Pinkie Pie aggressively opens a can of one of Trixie's energy drinks and chugs it down, ignoring the fizzy stream that flows down her hand, arm and chin. The fizzy fluid dribbles on her chest and she wipes her mouth with her arm, burping. Next to her, Applejack finishes putting on her gauntlets and gives them a quick cock, smiling when they hum and glow. Rarity quietly tests her blades and looks at Pinkie Pie when she snaps her hammer to a scabbard on her back.

“You girls ready to go?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Eeyup,” says Applejack.

“Whoa, what the heck?” says Flash.

Team PART(ie) looks at their doorway and sees Team FORT standing there, dressed casually with their team leader balking.

“I thought we were looking for Trixie, not a fight,” says Flash.

“It is just in case we run into that jerk that electrocuted us,” says Pinkie Pie. She grins and flexes her hand and her body shimmers with aura. “Besides, it is better safe than sorry. You don't know what kind of creeps you'll run into at this time.”

Flash rubs the back of his neck. “I guess you're right.”

“I was already prepared,” says Octavia, smiling thinly with her violin-rifle seemingly appearing out of nowhere and pointed at the ceiling.

Flash sighs and pinches his brow. “Why am I not surprised?”

Trixie slams Thunderlane into a grated door and presses her wand against his back. The thief winces and Trixie digs her fingers into his shoulder while looking around the desolate area hawkishly. She does not see anything out of the ordinary for the ghetto. Graffiti here and there, cracked roads and sidewalks, rampant garbage and a car with missing tires propped up on cinder blocks. Off in the distance a metallic clang echoes and cat yowls, and Trixie swallows and tries to hold back her shaking, really wishing she brought her aura booster.

“You sure this is the place?” asks Trixie.

“Yes, this is the place. I was just here,” says Thunderlane sourly. “And I really don't want to be here so can you let me go?”

“No, you're getting me inside or else you're losing a liver.”

Thunderlane glances at her. “That is a bit extreme, don't you think?”

“You electrocuted me.” Her eyes snap down the road when she hears a rumbling engine approaching and lights shining on a brick wall. “Now open the stupid door right now or I'll cut you and it open!”

“All right, all right, jeeze.”

Thunderlane takes a shaky breath and presses a buzzer on the wall, and when a neon green, bulbous car dotted with hippie flowers comes around the corner, Trixie slinks her arm around his and flashes a cheeky smile and wave. The car keeps going and once it is out of sight, she presses her wand into his side, forcing a wince out of him.

“What's taking so long?” says Trixie.

“It is four in the morning, the guy is probably asleep,” says Thunderlane.

“Buzz him again.”

Thunderlane reluctantly hits the buzzer again, and this time there is a crackle and pop from an old speaker above the buzzer.

“Thunderlane, we already did business. You know the rules,” says a tired man on the other end.

“This girl wants to do business,” says Thunderlane, jabbing his thumb to Trixie.

“Is that why she has a weapon pressed into your liver?”

“What? Oh, no. No, it is not what it looks like. This is actually how we play around.”

Trixie's hand whips the back of Thunderlane's skull, causing him to lurch forward and growl in pain as he glares at her. In turn, she raises both of her eyebrows and jerks her head to the door, and he lifts his hand up, returning the scorching glare.

“Woman, stop it,” mouths Thunderlane.

“Open the fricken door,” says Trixie, her harsh voice barely a whisper through her gritted teeth.

“I'm trying to open the door, but these guys aren't exactly the nicest bunch around,” says Thunderlane, also speaking through his teeth.

“You open it or I open it. Either way that door is opening.”

“Do you two need a room?” says the man.

Thunderlane turns to the buzzer and slams his palm against it. “No. We're actually going to take a long break after tonight. Can you please let us in so she'll leave me alone?”

“And have her cause problems inside? No. Besides, we have rules and you will abide by those rules or else there will be consequences, are we clear, Tsunnie?”

“That's it!” growls Trixie. “Move!”

Trixie throws Thunderlane aside, activates her blade and stabs the lock. Sparks fly, the lock glows red, and chunks of metal fall off, and after Trixie pulls out her energy blade she yanks open the door and storms inside the dark hallway, ignoring Thunderlane's shouts for her to stop.

A random guy comes out of a room cocking a shotgun, but Trixie grabs the weapon's grip and rams the barrel into the guy's face. He crumbles to the floor and clutches his nose, cursing up a storm as blood pours past his fingers. Trixie keeps on marching, eyes zeroes in on the lit up room at the end of the hall directly in front of her, and Thunderlane apologizes to the wounded man as he passes.

When Trixie reaches her destination she sees nothing but an empty metal desk and locked cabinets. She looks around for any signs of anybody, but once again comes up empty. That is, until a door off to her side slides open.

Trixie jumps and aims her blade at the doorway and has to squint her eyes to dull the effects of the ridiculously bright light bursting from the doorway. However, when the lighting dies down and the floating blotches are blinked away, Trixie sees a tall, lanky man hastily approaching the desk, adjusting the sleeve buttons on his white dress shirt. His green eyes are baggy, his red and white striped hair is a mess and his red mustache is hooked down from his frown.

“Forgive me if I don't look at all charming, miss, but you did come by unexpected and at a terrible time,” says the mustachioed menace as he takes a seat behind his desk. He takes a moment to adjust himself, and then flashes any easygoing smile while placing his hands on the desk. “But now that we are here, what can I do for you?” The man extends his hands. “My name is Flam Sham, by the way. Who might you be?”

“I don't care who you are. You have something that does not belong to you and we want it back,” says Trixie.

“Actually, I don't want it back. I'm just here because she threatened to cut out my liver,” says Thunderlane. “Can I please go?”

“No,” says Flam, his hand retreating and his frown returning. “We're actually going to have a chat when my brother comes back from his errand. He is more diplomatic about these contract violations than I am.”

Trixie looks at Thunderlane and sees him paling and swallowing as he retreats into the wall, and she looks back at Flam when yawns obnoxiously.

“As for you, little lady, you're going to have to be more specific with your request,” says Flam. “We get all kinds of merchandise and sometimes stolen items slip through. So, help me help you. What do you seek in my humble shop.”

Trixie aims her blade at Flam's throat, which does nothing to faze him in any observational way, much to her disappointment.

“Where do you keep your stolen phones?” says Trixie.

“Is there something peculiar about this phone?” says Flam.

“Aside from it being not yours, no.”

Flam hums and drums his fingers together. “Okay, I'll play along. What does it look like?”

“It is... a phone.”

Flam cocks a brow and Thunderlane paces in circles, groaning and rubbing his face.

“Like its... its kinda rectangular...ly,” continues Trixie. “Um, I think its a touch screen, or maybe part touch screen part button pushing.”

“The phone has a keypad?” asks Flam.

Trixie points at Flam. “Yes!” She retracts her hand and taps her chin. “Only, I'm not sure if it was like that. I think it might have been a full touch screen. It probably had a purple case. Or maybe it was indigo. Or what's that weird color that's like blue and purple combined?”

“I'm pretty sure that's indigo.”

“...No~”

“Are you kidding me!” yells Thunderlane.

Trixie looks over her shoulder and sees Thunderlane's dark face has reddened and his eyes are crazy while his hair is ruffled from his fingers clawing at them.

“You held me hostage and almost stabbed me over a phone and you don't know what it looks like? What is wrong with you?” scolds Thunderlane.

Trixie stomps her foot, vein throbbing and face red as she points at herself. “Hey, Trixie is tired and working, so shut it!”

A BANG, followed by a hot, sharp pain suddenly pierces Trixie's side and she collapses to her hands and knees, wheezing and clutching her smoking side while her aura crackles and sheds. Thunderlane curses and his hands snap towards his rod, but Flam jerks up with one hand on a small button and the other clutching a glowing flintlock styled pistol with a red glow in the barrel. The pistol is aimed right at Thunderlane's forehead and at the table is a smoking and glowing hole that is leveled with where Trixie was shot.

Thunderlane's hands slowly lift up and Flam tuts as Trixie pulls her hand away, gasping at the sight of her palm being red and dripping. Her body shakes and her vision blurs as tears drip down her cheeks. A moment later, a set of footsteps enter and she looks up to a group of five more come in behind Thunderlane. One is tall and lanky with the same stripped hair and a weapon as the mustache man, but he has no mustache and has a bright smile, and the other four have no distinguishing features about them.

“So nice to see you, Flim.” says Flam.

“Likewise, Flam. I feel lonely when we part, but everything is set with our clients,” says the look-a-like. He then taps the back of Thunderlane's skull. “Toss your weapon in the far corner, big guy.”

Thunderlane begrudgingly tosses his weapon away, and one of the goons is quick to leave Flim's side to grab it. As this happens, Trixie's breathing becomes heavier and her vision begins to fade in and out while her elbows buckle and blood from her wound patters to the floor. This brings Flim to look at her, in which she returns with a weak glare past her hanging locks.

“Flam, did you shoot another girl?” asks Flim with disappointment lacing his tone.

Flam shrugs nonchalantly. “Who else was going to shoot her? Soda Pop didn't show up.”

“That's because he is laying in the hallway with a broken nose.”

“Who broke his nose?”

Flim nods to Trixie, and Flam and Trixie look at each other for a fraction of a second before Trixie's eyes widen and Flam's face reddens and contorts. In a flash, he kicks Trixie's wound with his sharp tipped shoe and she jerks and buckles down, crying in agony as she curls and clutches her wound, feeling colder. Her side is throbbing, her hands shake and her throat hurts from her crying, and the growing red has stained much of her shirt and pants and now spreading to the floor.

“Hey, cut it out!” says Thunderlane.

“You hear that Tsuinnie, brother? Cut it out, he says,” says Flam. He stomps over to Thunderlane and presses his pistol underneath Thunderlane's chin, glaring deep into his eyes while Thunderlane swallows and trembles. “He brings a nasty skirt in here, violates the contract and he tells me to cut it out.”

“Yes, yes, I know he broke the rules,” says Flam. He forces Thunderlane on his knees and presses his pistol on top of his skull, ignoring his shaky begs of mercy. “And he will be punished just like the others.”

“Shall we kill him?”

“No, don't be silly. What kind of punishment is a punishment if the punishment is-”

“Short lived? You're right.” Flam turns his pistol to Trixie, who is now shifting weakly on the floor and coughing little specks of blood. “Should we kill her? I really want to kill her.”

“Don't waste your ammo. She looks like she is about to die any minute, so let's try something a bit more-”

“Profitable?”

“Yes.”

Flim digs into his pocket and pulls out a cellphone, does a quick speed dial and presses it against his ear, humming patiently. Meanwhile, Trixie whimpers and tries to drag herself to her wand using her free hand, but stops when she hears a weapon click, and she looks up to see Flam pointing his pistol at her, but with her vision mostly shrouded in black she has a hard time seeing him and Thunderlane.

“Do you really want to test your luck with a second shot?” says Flam grimly.

“Its ringing,” says Flim. “And still ringing... And ringing... And ringing...”

Flam looks at Flim and Thunderlane puts his eyes on Trixie, who is having trouble keeping her eyes open.

“Trixie, keep your eyes on me,” says Thunderlane gently.

Trixie's eyes meet Thunderlane's, her heart thumping slowly and her breath short and jagged, and Thunderlane smiles and nods at her, despite the shimmering in his eyes.

“That's it. You're doing good. Keep them open. You got this,” says Thunderlane.

“The phone is still ringing. Faust, doesn't he hear it?” complains Flim.

“He's probably sleeping,” says Flam. “I know I was until these degenerates came buzzing along.”

Flim shakes his head. “No, I just sent Party Favor to him with all those phones. I swear, you can't rely on anybody these days.”

“Thanks for the ride!” says Pinkie Pie as she hops off the bus to join the two teams, who are all equipped with their weapons and armor and waiting for her underneath the light of the bus stop.

The bus driver, meanwhile, shakes his head and silently closes the door, then speeds off. With the bus getting smaller from distance, Pinkie Pie sighs, shakes her arms and looks at her team.

“Applejack, are you okay?” asks Pinkie Pie.

“Fine and dandy,” grumbles Applejack wearily.

“Rarity?”

Rarity quietly nods, and Pinkie Pie looks at Team FORT.

“Flash, you ready to roll?” asks Pinkie Pie.

Flash nods. “Yes, I am.”

“How about you, Octavia?”

Octavia cocks her rifle and looks at Pinkie Pie with a neutral expression, and she smiles nervously and flashes a smile and thumbs up.

“Coolio.” Pinkie Pie looks at Rainbow Dash. “How about you, Dash Attack?”

“I've been ready,” says Rainbow Dash impatiently.

“And what about you, Twilight? Are you ready to rumble?”

Twilight looks up from her pendant, her thumb freezing over a lightning bolt and her eyes wide from confusion and worry. “Wait, what? Are we fighting?”

Rainbow Dash chuckles. “Heh, I wouldn't mind a cat fight.”

“I can give you one,” blurts Octavia.

Rainbow Dash's smile fades and she looks at Octavia with a twisted lip while the others slowly look at her strangely, and the Mafiosa looks at all of them curiously.

“Was that inappropriate?” asks Octavia.

“It was weird,” says Rainbow Dash.

“I would be interested in seeing a cat fight,” says Pinprick from right next to Dash.

Rainbow Dash yelps and leaps away almost into Octavia's arms, and the rest of the group also retreats with surprised yells of their own. Save for the every quiet and bemused Octavia and Pinkie Pie squealing joyously and jumps into the man's super arms.

“Yay, you came!” says Pinkie Pie, her embrace tight, her face buried in his manly chest and one leg kicked up. She takes a long, deep, whimsical sniff of his cologne and looks up at him with a glitter in her eyes. “You smell like bacon.”

“I wanted to smell manly to attract the appropriate mate,” says Pinprick proudly.

“And its working!”

Flash furrows his brows and jabs his thumb at Pinprick as he leans close to a very disgruntled Applejack. “Who's that guy?”

“Trouble,” replies Applejack sharply.

“Oh~” Flash looks him over. “He's kind of mediocre.”

Meanwhile, Pinprick digs into his pocket and gives seventy five cents to Pinkie Pie. “Here you go.”

Pinkie Pie snatches the change. “Thanks, Pin.” She turns to Applejack and puts the seventy five cents in her hand. “Here you go.”

Applejack scowls. “Did I just seriously see this?”

In a blatant move to ignore Applejack, Pinkie Pie turns to Octavia. “All right, Octavia. We got some more help, so where is the guy that can help us find Trixie?”

Octavia walks through the group and waves them forward. “Follow me. They are not far.”

Flim's foot taps anxiously on the floor with the phone pressed against his ear and his pistol tapping irritably against Thunderlane's skull. Every tap pushes a cringe from Thunderlane, and his throat has dried and sealed, and his glazed eyes focus on Trixie. He tries calling her, but he can barely speak, and he gets no response for his raspy calls, for she is laying motionless on the dirty floor, eyes closed and body limp with a pool of red seeping from under her.

“You know, Flim, I am tempted to just kill them now,” says Flam.

“Remember what the old man said, Flam? Patience is a virtue,” says Flim.

“And the old lady.”

“Right. Can't forget the old lady.” Flim suddenly perks and he pulls his pistol away from Thunderlane's head. “Oh, good. It is about time you answered your phone. What took so long, Double? … Oh, yes that can be problematic. Anyway, I have a quick question for you. Do you still have the kid?”

Thunderlane stiffens and looks at Flim, short of breath and eyes wide. “What?”

“Excellent. Keep him there just a little bit longer. We got a surprise for him ... Right … Uh huh, buh-bye.” Flim hangs up and hoists Thunderlane to his feet. “Time to go.”

“What are you doing? What's going on?” asks Thunderlane, his voice quivering.

“If you walk you'll find out,” says Flam.

Flim tugs on Thunderlane's shoulder and forces him to walk while pressing his pistol against the back of his skull and-

A metal door with a broken lock is yanked open by Flash Sentry, and Octavia pivots inside, weapon at the ready with Pinkie Pie and Pinprick following close behind. Pinkie Pie has her hammer out, but Pinprick has nothing but his bare hands and sharp eyes, much to the disdain of everyone. However, no protest goes beyond condemning gazes and both quietly teams file in, with each one keeping their weapon out, auras boosted and scanning the derelict hallway intently while making their way to a lit up room at the end.

The group is quiet in their trek, and Octavia leads the way with her rifle still ready to cut down anyone she desires and Pinkie Pie keeps a short distance between herself and the mob girl. Every step is like two beats of a heart for Pinkie Pie, and her gut has twisted to a knot and she can barely breath from the nausea plaguing her.

“So, what are we going to do with her?” says one voice from the room.

“The incinerator. Such a shame, too. She was good looking,” says another.

Pinkie Pie's chest tightens and her throat dries as she hurries past Octavia, towards the room where a man casually holding an energy pistol casually paces into view, completely oblivious to er group.

“Don't make it weird,” says the pistol man. “Just get her out of here so we can get this place cleaned up before the bosses come back.”

“Right, right,” says the other.

Three more step into view with two carrying a body and the third holding a set of keys, and when Pinkie Pie sees the body she skids to a stop, eyes bulged, throat tight and all air gone from her lungs. Sagging unceromoniously in their grip, covered in blood and pale is none other than Trixie Lulamoon.

The criminals stop in their spot and stare at her, and the rest of Team PART(ie) and FORT and Pinprick come up behind her, all with slack jaws and expressions twisted to horror. All but Applejack, who is growling viciously and flexing her fists with a feiry glow around her gauntlets.

“What did you do?” growls Applejack.

One of the holders looks at Trixie and then back at Applejack, balking. “Uh... Oh, uh... um. Nothing. She was like this when we got here.”

Red bleeds into Pinkie Pie's eyes and her breathing becomes ragged as her hands and pupils tremble with tears streaming down her cheeks. The crooks stare at her and the group, with the ones carrying Trixie's body looking at each other nervously and the other two raising their weapons at them.

“You... You....” chokes Pinkie Pie.

The structure rumbles and cracks pop from underneath Pinkie Pie's feet and go along the wall, causing the two groups to recoil as dust swirls in the hall. Pinkie Pie's close for just moment, and when they open after a sharp breath they are pure blue and bright like an exploding star.

Flash curses and leaps towards Octavia, his outstretched hand tugging on her jacket's collar. “Octavia, get back!”

“YOU JERKS!” screams Pinkie Pie.