Meanwhile, Twilight and her friends reconvened at the town square on the other side of town. "Have any of you found anything?" Twilight asked.

"Sorry, Twilight," Fluttershy shook her head. "Nopony's seen them."

"And we didn't find much at Fancy Pants' place," Applejack reported. "We did find this, though." She pulled out a rubber chicken wearing a bowler hat with a number 2 painted on it. "Must've dropped the poor fella."

"Yes, the case did seem hopeless. With little to go on, there didn't seem to be much hope of finding our strange ponies in a strange land..."

"Rarity, you do know you're doing that out loud, right?" Flash asked.

"Sorry," Rarity blushed. "However, I did find something of note. I—"

"Princess Twilight!" a voice shouted. Turning, the ponies saw Bumblebee sprinting up the street towards them. He skidded to a halt in front of them, panting heavily.

"Been looking for you..." he said in between gasps. "Your friends...sighted at a diner...got away..."

"Tell us on the way," Twilight said. "Come on everypony!" The group raced after Bumblebee, who hurried them across the Canterlot streets until they arrived at the diner. A pair of Guards was standing outside the diner, their polished armor reflecting the harsh colors of the flashing neon sign. Two more Guards were inside, questioning the diner staff and customers.

Prowl, one of the Guards standing post at the door, looked up at their approach. "There you are," he greeted them. "Pinkie Pie and Cheese Sandwich were recognized by the chef here, a Mr. Golden Batter, who called the City Guard. When we responded, Cheese and Pinkie chose to run and they..." He paused, his jaw grinding as if he would rather chew up his words and swallow them than speak, then continued, "...got away from us."

Twilight turned to her friends. "Everypony fan out. They can't have gotten too far away!" The others nodded and spread out to search.

"I want to talk to the chef," Flash said.

"Be my guest," Prowl said, gesturing them inside. Flash and Twilight entered the diner, which had been reduced to quiet chaos. Ponies sat or stood everywhere there was room, some chattering amongst themselves or demanding answers that could not be provided, or simply remained in still silence, unsure what to do or say.

"What are you doing?" Twilight asked Flash.

"The same thing Phillip would do if he were here," Flash answered, approaching the chef, who was mopping up the spilt batter behind the counter. "Mr. Batter?"

Golden Batter looked up briefly, then continued mopping. "What is it? I gotta get this cleaned up."

"Could you please tell us what happened?" Flash requested, pulling out a notebook and pencil.

Batter sighed—he had already told this tale three times before—then began to speak while continuing to mop. "Like I already told you guys, those two came in and ordered some pancakes. Triple-deckers with everything. I recognized them from the wanted posters and called the City Guard."

"When was this?" Twilight asked.

"Bout twenty minutes ago. Anyway, two City Guards got here about five minutes after I called and tried to arrest them. All of a sudden, we heard two gunshots right outside the diner. Everypony looked up, and those two ran off through the back door, leaving this mess." He paused, then reached inside his apron pocket, which jingled with bits. "Least they paid well."

"You didn't see which way they went?"

"Nah. I never had a chance to go after 'em."

Flash chewed the end of his pencil in thought. "You said the gunshots came from out front?" he asked, pointing out the front windows.

"Yeah, I think so," Batter said. "I didn't see where, though: lot going on."

"Did you see anything else odd? Maybe when they came in, you saw somepony following them?"

Batter paused, leaning against the mop as he thought. "Come to think of it, I did see somepony on the street opposite that arrived on a bike around the same time they did and was waiting outside the whole time they were there."

Flash's pencil hung eagerly over the notebook. "Can you describe this pony?"

Batter shrugged. "Short, fat unicorn on a bike. I never took a close look at him."

Flash wrote down some notes. "You've been a big help, Mr. Batter. If you think of anything else to tell us, please contact the City Guard."

"Will do," Batter grunted, resuming his cleaning.

Flash exited the diner, gesturing for Twilight to follow him. They proceeded to the other side of the street, where Flash bent over a patch of dirt at the end of the unfinished sidewalk.

"Look here," he said, pointing at some tracks. The distinct line of a bicycle track could be seen in the dirt. Next to it on one side was a hoofprint, clearly defined; on the other side were two bullet holes in the ground.

"So the pony on the bike was the one who fired the gunshots," Twilight concluded, while Flash pulled a measuring tape out of his saddlebags and began measuring the tracks.

"Short legs, right hoofed, .44 caliber gun, wearing old Quicksilver shoes. He tried to distract the Guards from taking Cheese and Pinkie," Flash added, starting to make a sketch of the bike tracks. "But why?"

"And where'd they go?" Twilight asked, looking up and down the darkening street.

"Let's make the situation clear here. I could care less about your health..."

"Couldn't! You couldn't care less! When you say you could care less, that means you do care!"

"Ah, shut up, you poofy-maned loudbox. What I do care about is this: we know who you were going to give the Falcon to—"

"Whom! Not who, whom!"

"If you don't shut up, I will literally jam this switchblade up your ass sideways!"

"You don't use literally if you mean figuratively! When you ponies use literally wrong, it makes me want to literally smack a crowbar upside your stupid heads!"

Burt let out a long sigh of frustration. He, Ernie and the rest of the Applewood Runners were gathered around the second story living room of a dingy house, facing Pinkie and Cheese, both of whom were tied to a rickety wooden chair.

"All right, everypony calm down and let's get this straight," Ernie said. "Now, listen, you two. We know Scarlet Letter hired you to steal the Muletese Falcon, and then hired you to get him out of jail."

"What're you talking about?" Pinkie protested, her chair creaking beneath her as she struggled. "He didn't steal that chicken, and nopony hired me! I got him out because he's my friend, and he's innocent!"

Every thug in the room snorted with laughter. "Heh, ain't that cute," a bearded unicorn chuckled through his teeth.

A snake-like smirk spread across Ernie's face. "Look, nopony here's that naive. Nopony ever does anything like that unless there's something in it for them. You—"

He was interrupted by a rumbling noise. The house began to shake from the foundation up, the dirty dishes in the sink rattling loudly as the rumbling grew closer and louder. Outside, there was a deafening whistle as an Underground train trundled slowly through the canal behind the house. After about a minute, the rumbling fell away.

"Jeez. No wonder nopony wanted this house, with all that noise," Burt muttered.

"As I was saying," Ernie picked up. "Scarlet Letter gave you a good offer. The Applewood Runners can give you a better one. You work for us, and we don't kill you." To emphasize his point, he pulled a switchblade knife out of his back pocket and flicked it open. The sharp blade shone in the dim light like fire. Pinkie went very still, staring at the blade in fear.

"Wait!" Cheese cried out. "You can do what you want with me, but leave her alone. Please, just let her go!"

Ernie looked between the two ponies for a few moments, then grinned. "Well, well. You actually do care about her." He stepped closer to Pinkie, leering viciously as he raised the blade. "Which means that you'd hate for her to get hurt."

The thug's sneering face sparked a wave of fury through Cheese Sandwich like he'd never felt before. His heart began to race, every muscle tensed, and his eyes narrowed to slits, blazing like fire as he glared at Ernie. "Leave...her...alone!" he shouted, straining with every ounce of force he could muster against his bonds in an attempt to reach him, to protect Pinkie Pie.

Unfortunately, he was tied too tightly, so all his struggles and grunting and growling succeeded in doing was making him look rather pathetic. The Applewood Runners laughed at him as he squirmed within his ropes. With a furious grunt, Cheese tried throwing all his weight to one side, then the other. To his surprise, this resulted in him losing his balance and falling towards Pinkie. He knocked her over, causing them both to fall to the ground. With a sudden crack, the chair that Pinkie was tied to broke into several pieces from the force of the fall. It took a moment for Pinkie to realize that she was no longer secured; when she did, she leapt up and started to hurry away.

"Hey, stop!" Ernie shouted, leaping after her. Cheese, still lying on the ground, jumped up and bit Ernie's leg, causing him to halt with a cry of pain. "Run, Pinkie, run!" Cheese yelled.

Pinkie did just that, bounding out of the living room and into the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her and pushing a heavy shelf of canned food over onto it. The door began to shake as the gangsters outside rammed into it. Running to the next door, Pinkie tried to open it, but found to her horror that it was locked. She had to find a place to hide! Looking around frantically, she spotted an old icebox and clambered into it, closing the top just as the door burst open. Ernie and two other thugs rushed into the room, blades at the ready, and spread out to search.

"Where'd you go?" one of them snarled, throwing open the pantry and peering inside.

"Come out, little filly," Ernie sneered, passing his knife from hoof to hoof as he wandered around the room. His eyes turned to the icebox and a smirk spread across his lips. Slowly, he started to walk towards the icebox. Watching him approach through the narrow slit of the top, Pinkie quailed in fear, her trembling amplified by the rumblings of another approaching train.

Suddenly, the opposite door was kicked open with an almighty crash. Everypony whirled around to see three ponies, all clad in black, rushing into the room. One of them immediately snapped his foreleg out, tossing a throwing knife directly into Ernie's chest. He grunted in pain, staring down at the weapon in shock for a moment before dropping to the ground. The other two intruders took down the other Applewood Runners before they had a chance to react. Moving right past Pinkie's hiding place, the black-clad ponies charged into the living room.

Burt and the two goons with him stood little chance. Burt tried to draw his revolver, but the lead intruder, a unicorn, hit him with a concussive spell that sent him flying out the window, crashing down onto the roof of the passing train. One of the other Applewoods reached for a knife on the table, but got beaten down with a crowbar for his trouble; the other Applewood immediately dropped to the ground, raising his hooves in surrender. One of the intruders glared down at him for a moment, then knocked him out with a stomp to the head.

Cheese watched all this helplessly, still lying on the ground, tied to the chair. "Who are you? What's going on?" he demanded.

Without a word, one of the black-clad ponies cut Cheese loose from the chair and immediately pinned him down the ground, binding his hooves behind his back. "Hey! What are you doing?!" Cheese protested.

"Quiet!" the kidnapper snapped, gagging Cheese with a length of cloth and placing a black hood over his head. Lifting Cheese up onto his back, he gestured to his two partners and hurried out the front door.

Hearing their retreating hoofsteps, Pinkie jumped out of her hiding place and hurried to a window just in time to see the three ponies tossing Cheese into the back of a box-shaped motorized carriage. Each of them jumped into the vehicle, which started up with a grinding noise and trundled away.

"No, no, no, no!" Pinkie cried, jumping out the window and hurrying after the carriage, but it was too fast: with a motorized grumble, the vehicle disappeared around the corner. "Cheese!" Pinkie screamed in desperation.

"Hey, keep it down!" a voice shouted back from a nearby window.

Pinkie simpered on the sidewalk. "What do I do now?" she asked quietly. Suddenly, fear and desperation turned into anger and she whirled around. "How could you do this?!"

Pinkie, calm down. It's part of the story. Everything's under control.

"Getting my friend kidnapped was part of the story?!"

Yes. And now it's time for your part.

"My part?" Pinkie straightened up. "Right! My part is to go after them and save Cheese!"

Uh, no, Pinkie. That's not your part. Your part is—

"You're not the boss of me!" Pinkie screeched. "I can't just stand here while those goons have Cheese!" She glared at the author, who cringed under her fury.

Pinkie, you'd be going up against an army by yourself. Worse, you'd be going into unscripted territory. If you got in trouble, I might not be able to help you! And besides, how are you going to find those guys?

"I..." Pinkie looked around helplessly. "I don't know." Suddenly, she brightened up as an idea struck her. "But you can! You can help me find them!"

No, Pinkie. I can't risk going off-script like that; it's too dangerous. I...Pinkie, no. Don't give me the puppy-dog eyes.

"Please?" Pinkie begged, jutting her lower lip out. "I have to help Cheese! He's my friend, and I...and I love him." The realization washed over like the oncoming tide. Her hooves tingled and her heart shivered in her chest. She remembered Cheese's warm touch, his smile, his infectious laugh. Every one of those things a precious aspect, like one of the many faces of a dazzling jewel. The thought of him hurt was more than she could bear.

"Josiah...please," she whispered, looking down at the ground as tears slowly dripped from her eyes.

...

All right. Take another look at the street.

Pinkie peered closely at the paved street and spotted something that made her heart leap. The motorized carriage that had taken Cheese away must have had an oil leak, for right there in the middle of the road was a trail of thick, black puddles.

"Thanks, Josiah," Pinkie said, standing up tall with a determined expression. "Now, come on! Let's write a story!" In a blur of pink, she hurried down the street, following the trail like a bloodhound on a hot scent for adventure.

"Don't worry, Cheese. I'm on my way!"

Author's Notes:

I hope Pinkie knows what she's doing.

Heck, I hope I know what I'm doing.

I really don't think I do.