Minutes after the Trixie fiasco, an elevator door on the Casino's very top floor dings and slides open, and out steps Monte and Hank, with Monte levitating an icepack to his jaw and Hank ready to murder someone.

“Holy crap, she punches hard,” says Monte as he briskly walks down the hall.

“You've been saying that for the past ten minutes and its starting to piss me off,” says Hank, his steps in tune with Monte's.

“Yeah, I know, but she punched me. I've been slapped, had drinks thrown in my face, a beehive tossed on my bed and I've been taken to court, but punched? That's a first.”

Hank rolls his eyes. “Surprisingly. I still think it is stupid that you didn't call the guards on her. Her tail should be in jail after that stunt. And I will be filing a complaint and have her fired.”

“Relax, Hank, it was just a misunderstanding, so no complaints or firings are necessary.”

“She nearly punched your jaw off.”

“Well... Yeah, you're right. But what was it that Dad always said?”

“You suck.”

“No, the other one.”

“You've got a mare's ass.”

“Definitely not that one. It was the one that was actually useful.”

“Three strikes and you're out.”

“Right. And Trixie has two, with the upstage and now the punch. One more and I'll have my buddies teach her a thing or two about manners.”

“You won't do that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you're you, and every time you say you're going to teach somepony a lesson or send one of your friends to teach them a lesson you never do and I end up being the one to break their legs in an alley.”

Monte stops and looks at Hank worryingly. “You're not going to break Trixie's legs in an alley are you?”

Hank stops and looks at Monte, eager for some brawling. “Do you want me to?”

Monte shakes his head and continues walking. “No. I still need to convince her to join me so my sales can go up, and you breaking her legs won't do me any good.”

“Fine. But if she touches you again, I will hurt her badly and I will have her ass in jail, with or without your approval.”

“Sure you will.”

Monte and Hank round a corner, and the very first thing Monte notices is what he is sure is a mare wearing an admittedly nice gray colored cloak. She has her head down and is sitting by his door, and she barely lifts her head, keeping her features hidden for the most part when the two stallions stop.

Seconds of awkwardness later, and the two walk forward, and Monte kneels down so he can look under her hood. When he sees who it is, he smiles, stands up and pats Hank on the shoulder.

“You better get back to work. I'm sure your crew misses you,” says Monte.

“I doubt it. Is that a friend of yours?” says Hank.

“She friend zoned me a while back and we've been acquaintances ever since.”

Hank stares at Monte skeptically, and in turn, Monte shoos him away.

“Get back to work, Hank. This is me time, now.”

Hank grumbles in protest, but leaves anyway, and once Hank rounds the corner, Monte takes a breath, unlocks the door and waves the cloaked mare inside, smiling brightly.

“After you, my dear,” he says.

The mare silently walks in, and after giving the hall one last look, he slides inside his abode and locks the door behind him.

His loft holds true to the theme of his casino. Everywhere there is space, there is something dedicated to the wonderful worlds of gambling or magic shows, whether it be posters or encased statuettes, and the top tier magician cannot help but smile smugly as his guest observes his expensive décor. Now, if only the visitor would take off her cloak then the retreating, natural lighting bathing his living room from his windows would make her look more stunning than she already is underneath that piece of cloth.

Monte's smug smile turns into a devious smirk and he walks towards the mare. “Relax a little. Take your cloak off. Curl up on my couch. Take it easy. I'll even make us some drinks.”

“Oh, Monte~” calls a mare.

Monte freezes, and with his head barely moving, he looks out of the corner of his eye and pales from the sight of an earth pony mare poking her head out of his room with a wanton smile.

“Are you coming back in for more fun?” she asks.

Before Monte can reply, a pegasus mare pokes her head out of his room and wraps the earth pony in her wing, bringing her to he side and giggling lewdly. “Yeah, we're waiting for you.”

“I'm sorry, I completely forgot about them,” says Monte to the cloaked mare, his face now turning red and his body feeling an uncomfortable combination of arousal and embarrassment from the different tones of stares he is getting. He looks at the pair in his bedroom doorway, straining his muzzle with his forced smile as they stare back at him, with the pegasus rubbing her wing along the side of the earth pony, getting her partner to shudder and bite her lip to stifle a moan. The scene sends his heart and temperature spiking, and he swallows his spit before holding up his hoof. “Ladies, I'm going to have to call this short. Some work came up and-”

A third mare appears, this one a unicorn, and with hungry eyes and a predatory lick of her lips, her horn glows and she starts to pull on Monte by his collar. “No excuses, Monte. We need you, my delicious hunk.”

The pull is just hard enough to force Monte's hooves in the carpet, and the unicorn's words bring nothing but pain to his ears and an inferno of embarrassment to his cheeks and ears. And he can hear his guest face hoof, too.

“Why'd you have to make things weirder than they already were?” says Monte. His horn glows and the magical grip on his clothing disappears in a pop, and he takes a breath before forcing an easygoing laugh. “Ladies, like I was trying to say before I was interrupted, you need to go. Like right now. I have work to do and I'd like to get it done pronto.”

“But we were just about to have a pillow fight,” pouts the earth pony.

“Yeah, that sounds really sexy, Cherry, but for the third time, some work came up and I really can't have call girls around. I'll get distracted too much to think.”

The earth pony frowns. “My name is Vanessa.”

“Oh.” Monte squints and studies each mare carefully. “Which one of you is Cherry?”

“None of us,” says the unicorn, now frowning, as well as the pegasus.

Monte seethes. “She must've been yesterday,” he says under his breath, and then he speed walks behind the mares and starts herding them to his door, trying with rapidly dwindling willpower to resist the three different pheromones assaulting on his scenes. “Okay, it was nice meeting all of you. We had a blast and call me sometime, but now you ladies need to get out.”

The mares all talk over each other, all various levels of red faced rage as their hooves dig into the carpet, much to his annoyance. They sound like angry hens clucking over each other, eager for overpriced corn, and when he manages to get them to the door, he uses his magic to open the door and a mix of magic and strained muscles to push them into the lobby.

All three stumble out and almost trip over each other, but when they regain their footing, they all turn and glare at Monte, with the pegasus snarling and expanding her wings.

“Where's our money!” demands the pegasus.

Monte groans loudly and throws out his bag of money at their hooves, spilling the bits all over the decorative floor like a water balloon filled with cash. “Here, take your money and let me work! Jeeze!”

Before any of the mares can respond, Monte slams and locks the door shut, and then he takes a deep breath, flashes a smile at his guest and trots to his room.

“I just have to check something really quick,” he says.

When he sees his room, his smile disappears. The sheets are all a mess, the drapes have been wrapped around his bedposts -which he remembers that scene being tied to something very uncomfortable- and there is spilled food and wine everywhere, staining his carpet and expensive sheets in an ugly assortment of colors. But the very worst part of it all leaves his jaw slack and his eyes wide, for on the collar of his twelve thousand bit casket jacket is a very ominous, dried up, white blotch.

Monte levitates the jacket and carefully sniffs the stain, hoping that it is a cinnamon roll and not what he thinks it is. When it turns out to be his worst fear, he groans and drops the jacket.

“Oh, man. That is not coming out,” he says to himself.

Monte sighs, shakes his head and throws the jacket in the bedroom garbage can on his way to his kitchen, begrudgingly thinking about the cleaning bill that will surely murder his bank account. As he goes to his kitchen, he uses his magic to close the bedroom door and a great deal of willpower to put on a friendly face.

“Have a seat. You're making me nervous,” says Monte while he walks over to his wine cooler.

The visitor sits on the couch and quickly removes her cloak, sighing with relief while doing so, and Monte carefully pours wine for of them in elegant glasses.

“It’s a little hot to be wearing cloaks, don’t you think?” teases Monte when he takes a seat next to his guest with the glasses floating beside him.

“I didn’t want anypony to see me,” says Octavia as she adjusts her mane.

Monte gives Octavia her wine glass. “So, what’s this visit about? Do you want to perform at one of my shows? Do you need a magic show at one of your shows? Or do you need some money?”

“I need to speak to Gilda about a job.”

Monte's face falls from disappointment. “Oh. What makes you think I know her?”

“Everypony knows you’re in with the griffins.”

“Speculates, Octavia. Everypony speculates that I’m in with the griffins. But its not my fault the griffins love this place. It is the haven of vice, after all, and everybody loves vice.”

Octavia sips her wine and her lower eyelid twitches slightly, but Monte takes a huge gulp of his drink without any visible effects.

“What if I told you that if the job is done right I’ll give you ten percent extra on top of what Gilda gives you,” says Octavia after she successfully suppresses the urge to hurl.

Monte’s ears perk up and he grins excitedly. “You know me well, Octavia.”

“So, will you tell Gilda my message?”

“I have to know what the message is first.”

“I want to her to grab a couple of ponies.”

Monte winces and leans back. “A double kidnapping? Octavia, that kind of job isn’t cheap. I mean to hold somepony ransom is loaded with all kinds of costs and logistics, and it is also very risky and fragile. Its not like locking your sibling in the bathroom over hoofball cards.”

Monte finishes with a sip of his drink, and Octavia shakes her head.

“I’m not interested in a ransom. I want Gilda to grab these ponies and bring her to me so I can kill them myself,” she says.

Monte is in the middle of finishing off his wine when Octavia tells him that, and he spits out his wine, leading him to painful coughing and hacking fit that leaves tears in his eyes. After that small show ends he manages to recollect himself.

“Okay, first off, who are these ponies, and what did they do to you to want them killed? Secondly, what you’re asking for is a very special order. It requires planning, lots of money, and you to have a steel gut to do a double murder,” says Monte.

“The first is Trixie Lulamoon, she murdered my sister, and the other is Minty Sprinkles, she allowed it to happen and is now chauffeuring her around,” says Octavia.

“Ah, well you see about Trixie, I kinda need her alive so she can help with my sales. Nostalgia value and all that.”

“She killed my sister!”

“Yeah, but... Wait, you had a sister?”

“Her name was Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

Monte puts his glass on the table and forces a chuckle. Then he mumbles gibberish under his breath and then looks at Octavia, still trying to keep his smile. But when Octavia’s stare becomes more stern his smile disappears.

“Are you serious?” asks Monte.

“Very,” replies Octavia.

“But you said your last name was Melody.”

“I know. But that's actually my second middle name. My real last name is Pie, and Pinkamena Pie was my sister, who was murdered by Trixie and Minty, and they need to die.”

“Okay, I get the kill part, but what you're saying is that you not only lied to me about your name, but you also lied about not having a sister that could have helped my sales with her parties or her very appearance.”

“I know, but-”

“Is there anything else you lied to me about? Like, I don't know, your gender or your distaste for the banjo?”

“Monte, you know first hoof that I'm a mare!”

Monte frowns and points at her. “You just admitted to lying to me about important details of your life, and you're expecting me to be cool about this? No, my mockery is fair game. You know, I could've had an Element trophy wife that would have guaranteed me a generous surplus of income if you've done your part like a good sister.”

Octavia bats Monte's hoof away and jabs him in the chest, her face getting red, her body shaking, and her teeth grinding against each other. “Trixie killed my sister and Minty was supposed to protect her, but she didn’t, and instead of helping me, you're making stupid comments and turning my dead sister into some kind of desired possession!”

Monte slides back and holds up his hooves defensively with his head down. “Okay, I'm sorry, but-” Monte grabs Octavia's hooves with his and looks into her eyes, watching his desperation reflect back to him from her angry eyes. “Maybe now would be a good time to implement the whole forgive and forget thing. I mean, I know you, Octavia, you're as sweet as you are beautiful and this business... well, this business gets ugly very fast and makes pretty ponies ugly even faster.”

Octavia pulls away from Monte. “You expect me to forgive and forget about the ones who killed Pinkamena? You might as well ask a fish to breath in the middle of the dessert.”

“Is there a pond in the middle of this dessert of yours?”

Octavia gets up and trots towards the door, growling. “Never mind. I'll just off them myself without any help. At least then I'll be saving myself some bits!”

Monte stammers idiotically and sloppily gets off of the couch, tripping over himself in the process, and he gallops in front of Octavia, stopping her when he puts his hoof out.

“Wait! No no no no no, don't do that. Don't do that,” he says. He takes a breath and places his hooves on her shoulders and looks into fiery eyes. “Listen, and listen good, Octavia. The life I got and the life you got don't mix well. You do not have the stomach to do this, and if you go at it alone you will hurt yourself and probably not get what you wanted done done in the first place.”

“Then get the griffins to help me.”

“Did you not hear the first part? You are not meant for this, and by contracting Gilda's help you are basically offering to dance with Tirek. She is not good. She is heartless. She will have no problem killing you if you do anything to threaten her business, which includes skipping out on bills and wasting her time.”

“They need to pay for what they did.”

“But you don't even care about your family.”

Octavia stomps her hoof. “I care, now!”

Monte jumps a little bit, but still keeps his eyes on Octavia as she looks him in the eyes with tears rolling down her face and her chest heaving from wanting her to scream again. A moment of silence passes, and Octavia looks down, whimpering and sniffling as tears patter to the carpet.

“I care, now.... Before, I wanted to erase them and pretend that my roots were different,” says Octavia shamefully. “I didn't want anything to do with my father or my sisters because I had a newer, better life than what they gave me and Canterlot made me special. But now that I know I will never see my sister again, I will only have vague memories of her to look at. I don't have any hope of seeing her again to make new ones. I don't have a chance to... to tell her how stupid and selfish I was for pretending she didn't exist! I have to do something to show that I cared about her... I have to make this right.”

Monte sighs and rubs his brow. “Wow. That was dramatic.” He lowers his hoof and shake his head. “I mean... wow. Is there any way I can change your mind?”

“No. There must be justice, and if I have to go to Gilda with or without you to see it done, then so be it.”

Author's Notes:

Added 26 Sep 2015