“Well I’ll be a hellhound’s fuck toy, Point! Look what the wastes dragged in,” a scarred mess of a pony chortled as we approached.

He, and his partner, sat outside a grand double doorway surrounded by sandbags and ancient signs. A collection of empty bottles told me just how valued this job was, and how long they had been sat there. A newly emptied one was launched to the side and tinkled into shards against something unseen. Overhead, Pinkie loomed in her eternal grin.

The other pony poked her head out from a magazine and joined in the laughter. “Well, well, Clean Sweep. I’d think I was hallucinating you if it weren’t for Scabs here, he doesn’t let me take the good stuff when I’m on duty. You’ve some nerve coming here again, murdering cunt.”

“Careful now Point Blank, might start thinkin’ ya’ll worth the ammo,” Clean said, his smirk appearing. “That time was business, your ponies knew that, and ain’t we supposed to let bygones be bygones?”

“Those are fancy words for a cleaner. I’m feeling generous tonight, Squeaky. Fuck off before I give you a new hole, and take the walking talking corpse with you,” Point flicked the small trail of mane out of her eye, sending me a wicked grin of filed teeth.

“That mouth’ll be the death of you one day. Must say, Devil’s hospitality needs some workin’ on,” Clean shifted his weight.

“Better watch your fucking mouth, bad talking the boss like that. Nopony’s gonna miss you,” Scabs spat back, squaring himself to match Clean.

“You’re not serious, right? One shot and the whole place comes down on you,” Point’s smile faltered. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“How much?” I strode forwards, carefully looking the two over. Clean snorted his disapproval but kept silent.

“How much for what?” Scabs replied.

“How much are you making tonight?”

“What does that-“

The pouch made a distinct clink on the pavement, “That’s two hundred caps. I’m certain that you could take a break for that much.”

Point looked to her companion. I could almost see smoke coming from their ears as they tried to work out what to do. Eventually, their baser natures took over, and the pouch ended up in their hooves. Clean and I strode through with all the grace we could muster, the two guards looking the other way but matching our smiles.

“I’ll give you a fair warning though, Squeaky. You won’t be walking out of here!”

The doors swung inside and led into a carpeted hallway. Luxurious red carpeting, laced with golden swirling inscriptions, lined the floor to match the bottom half of the walls. Parts showed the rot of years had sunk in, edges fraying and places darker with damp. Yellowed lamps hiding behind cracked glass covers buzzed with a dangerous sound. The walls held ancient posters of acts long since gone: death defying feats of acrobats, Filly Valli and the Four Seasons, as well as one particular blue magician that caught my eye.

“Huh, didn’t expect to see her advertised here,” I half-said to myself. “Thought her touring days were long gone after Ponyville…”

“Zombie, focus,” Clean motioned for me to catch up. “Not here for sight-seein’. Yet.”

“Yes sir, my master. Can Igor do anything else for you?”

“Igor can shut the fuck up,” Clean opened a door at the end of the hallway. “This way.”

Time had certainly damped the luxury of the Golden Gallop Casino, tarnishing the edges, but it could not kill what was once a beacon of class and grace. I had only seen the photos of the original, though I did visit the sister building in Las Pegasus with Gadget and Gentle Giant. It dawned on me that perhaps that was when they tied the knot. One of our last missions away from Manehatten: back up for the local teams as faceless noponies.

This hallway was populated with several ponies in zoot suits of all things, casually laughing and joking with one another. All of them had weapons clearly on display ranging from small arms to a fully kitted battle saddle or two. I tried to not let the sinking feeling show on my face as they turned and smirked at Clean. A few jeered about having a deathwish.

A larger mare, easily twice as bulky as me, stood in front of Clean and snorted at him. “Turn around. Now.”

“That any way to speak to a patron?” Clean said, cooler than a frozen cucumber.

“Patron? You’re dead meat, Sweep. Get the fuck out before I put two holes in you. I’d rather not stain the carpet any more.”

“By the Sisters, what is this?” I rolled my eyes, stepping between the two.

Clean began to retort before I caught him mid-sentence.

“I don’t want to hear excuses! A century and half, a century. And a half. My life savings on one holiday, and you’re causing troubles from the beginning! Do you have any idea how much work I’ve put in over these years? How long it took me to finally come here? Do you even know how much money I’m carrying right now?” I may have poured a little too much anger into my voice as Clean’s ears flipped back. Even the suited ponies had stopped their conversation and started to listen in.

“Look, ghoul, just because-” the mare began, only to have my wonderful visage shoved into her face.

“TEN THOUSAND CAPS. Ten thousand! And that’s just physical! Not even talking about the inventory of drugs and other things I have access to, the recipes, the equipment, everything you need to make a pony rich for months, no, decades to come. Do you even know why I came here?”

“N-no, but-”

“I won my first million here! Repeat, my first million! Back before this,” I gestured wildly to my body. “Now I come back to kick back and relax, maybe make some small talk with this Devil Luck my bodyguard mentioned, and you’re harassing me before I even have a drink. Unbelievable! Insane! Perhaps I should take this business elsewhere, I’ve heard about a small gang of ponies on the other side of this Luna-forsaken city that would be very interested in what I could produce.”

I waited for the words to sink through the skull of the mare, her ears pinned back as I now stood taller than her. Not physically, unfortunately, but an angry rich ghoul threating to take a goldmine to a rival gang would certainly alter your standing. I snorted and began to walk away when the bit dropped.

“OK, OK!” the mare shouted, moving to cut me off and guide me back towards the doors. “The Jackels are hardly worth your time, Mr…”

“Copy.”

“Mr Copy, but I’m certain the boss would love to talk business with you.”

“After a few games. Vacation first.”

“Of course, of course.”

“And he’s coming with me. Paid good money for him, bad blood can take a seat,” I pointed to Clean. “If he stirs anything up, he’s all yours, but otherwise you leave us alone, got it?”

The ponies reluctantly nodded but still glared at Clean as his face turned the crowning jewel of smug.

“Good. Tell your boss that I want to meet later, and have this for your troubles,” I threw another pouch of caps on the floor. The suits quickly opened up the pouch and began squabbling over the contents, leaving us to our own devices.

We entered the casino floor, several patrons recoiling at my presence. I sneered at them, trying not to let the action get to me too much. Yes, I’m a mutated freak, but some common courtesy wouldn’t go amiss. This was the first taste of post-apocalypse pony civilisation and, so far, Tarlung’s assertion about non-ghouls was right. It also showed just how accepting Two Tone and Domino were of my condition.

The set up was a casino standard: tables as far as the eye could see, booze flowing freely, plenty of wealth and weapons on display. The patrons were an odd mix of surly, rough, and ‘I’m going to stab you, then screw your corpse’. All the charming kinds of pony.

“Colour me impressed, ghoul,” Clean whispered as we picked our way through. “Even shook me up, almost enough to forget we’re four-hundred caps down. Before we even reached the tables.”

“You’ll be surprised how many doors money can open. The right bits in the right hoof, and the world’s your oyster,” I replied, carefully dodging a disgusted mare in rotting clothes.

“Wasn’t my point.”

“I know.”

On the stage, Two Tone put his finishing touches on his instruments. He trotted to one side of the stage, poking a head around the back. After a few moments, he moved up to the mic, giving it an experimental tap. The speakers boomed, a slight whine of feedback bleeding in.

“Woah, there we go. Fillies and gentlecolts, stallions and mares, swingers and shakers, patrons of the Golden Gallop Casino, your attention please. This is the King of Swing, callin’ all to get your hooves ready for a night of revelry, debauchery and downright dastardly deeds. Two Tone is talking about lettin’ yourselves loose tonight, tellin’ that mare you love her, punchin’ her stallion and drinkin’ more than you can handle.”

Some of the crowd had turned to listen, more as the wolf whistles began. As Two continued his spiel, Domino entered the stage. To say that she was wearing a dress would be wrong. There wasn’t enough fabric on it to be called a dress, but enough to leave certain details to the imagination. As she struck an equally scandalous pose, it dawned on me that I had never really seen much of Domino’s body at all. Not even her cutie mark, which was still hidden by the midnight fabric.

Then again, if I had seen more of it, I’m certain my nose wouldn’t be the same shape.

A kiss was blown to the crowd, drawing more whistles and thumps on tables. It was chased by a small smile, which seemed to be for every individual there, but I saw who she looked at most intently. He swallowed and nudged me to move along.

“Yeah, she’s a real looker, swingers. Welcome Miss Domino to the stage,” Two Tone paused as the howls grew, a few patrons going into worrying detail about what they would do to Domino. “She’s the real magic, ain’t she? Not about the horns on our heads, no sir. All natural, know what I’m sayin’? Even then, there were some folks waaay back who could weave magic like that. You know what sweet flanks, you remind of somepony.”

“And who’s that, darling?” Sweet Celestia, that smoulder.

Two Tone grinned as his horn lit up, several instruments giving an experimental toot, strum, and tap. “Why baby, you remind me of a mare.”

“What mare?” Domino replied huskily into the mic. A few stallions howled in reply.

“I think you know little miss, the mare with the power.”

“What poooow-uh?”

“That old zebra magic, the power of voodoo,” Two Tone rolled on his ‘r’s, giving a wink to passing waitress. I’m not sure what surprised me more: there were waitresses there, or how she had lost all ability to move from a wink.

“Who do-oo?” Domino trilled, her voice nowhere near the power or ability that Two Tone had but nopony seemed to care.

“Yeah, you do, you do!” Two Tone bounced to a piano that had seen better days several decades ago.

“Do what?” the drums kicked in with a heavy beat, not unlike the jungle pounding of zebra tribes.

“You remind me of a mare!”
“What mare?”
“The mare with pow-uh!”
“What power?”
“Yeeaaaah, the power of voodoo!”
“Who do?”
“Oh, you do, you do.”
“Do what?”

“Let’s kick it!” Two Tone shouted as the whole stage erupted into sound, the air filling with sweet soul of swing. As he worked magic on the instruments, hoofs expertly playing the piano and eyes working the crowd, Domino kept the wandering eyes on her. She bounced and swayed to the beat, moving just enough flank to keep attention focused on the performance than the games they were playing. Made me want to know what special talent lurked beneath it all.

Clean tapped my side, pointing to the cards in front of me.

“Your play, boss.”

This new ‘Caravan’ game made no sense to me at all. I nodded and tried to remember the rules taught a few hours before.

“This is possibly the stupidest idea Two Tone has ever heard, and he’s Two Tone.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Two, but this is dictatorship, not a democracy,” Clean replied as he carefully studied his cards, chewing on radhog.

“You’re mad, swinger, barkin’ up the wrong tree, hangin’ with the pink one!”

My ears perked at the last one in the list. “What does that mean? I used the hang with the pink one!”

“Turn of phrase swinger, Two Tone means nothin’ by it. ‘cept that this here pony’s gonna get us all killed!” Two snorted as Clean threw his cards down, ruining another game of Caravan.

We had set up camp just on the inside of Fillydelphia, the ruins providing plenty of hiding places from the slaving community and the other nasty surprises that lurked in the city’s husk. Clean had spent the last hour trying to teach me some of the card games that had grown in Equestria. Many were unnecessarily complex and required your own deck.

Cheating is magic.

During dinner, or rather me watching the others eat dinner, Clean had laid out the plans for the heist on the Golden Gallop. Between the gulps of food and vaguely described layouts of the casino, he managed to form a half decent plan. Two Tone was thoroughly against it.

“So, to recap,” Clean said through a full mouth. “Two and Domino, you’re goin’ in ahead of us. Scout the place, see what’s what. Earn their trust, get yourself a job.”

Two Tone scoffed at the last part, wrinkling his nose. “Get a job, Two Tone has had more jobs than you can count, swinger.”

“How many of them have you managed to keep?” Domino asked politely. She gave Two a smug smile as he coughed on his drink, taking another bite of her food.

“That’s beside the point, swinger. Last run in he had with Devil Luck wasn’t exactly pleasant, know what I’m sayin’?”

“More pleasant than mine, I reckon,” Clean said to his meat, catching my eye. “Last time I was here, was for merc work. Ended up killin’ a few of his employees.”

“I guess he’s holding a grudge?” I looked to Domino as she lectured Two Tone on his inability to keep a job down.

“And then some. Ain’t one to go fussin’ the ferals, but we pull this off I can find a way to make it up to him,” Clean swiped his cards back up. “Course, that’s dependent on you doin’ y’thing.”

“Sneak into the offices, find out where the orbs are kept, collect orbs with Domino, get out of dodge, your turn.”

“Makin’ sound far easier than it is, don’t get cocky,” Clean frowned at my play. “Eight, not bad.”

“Not cocky, I’ve done tougher missions than this while hungover. King doubles, right?”

“Yeah,” Clean set his next card down. “I mean it though, ghoul. You fuck this up and it all comes down on us. I ain’t dyin’ now, you hear?”

I set my cards down, meeting Clean’s stare. “You trusted me enough to take on slavers, show some faith in me now. The hardass act is getting old now, Clean.”

“Ain’t an act. I ain’t lettin’ you get me, or anypony here, killed ‘cause you can’t take shit seriously. I am puttin’ faith in you. A whole lot of it. So you’d better deliver.”

“Does Two Tone need to give you two some time to fuck?” the singer’s comment, and Domino’s subsequent giggle, broke the tension in the air. I smiled against Clean’s cold smirk and we threw whatever rubbish we could get our hooves on at Two Tone.

Our camp filled with the sounds of laughter and joking at the friendly fight, ending in a cautious cheer as Two put his hooves up and took out his flask. We each took a sip from the metal container, enjoying the warmth that blossomed from within, toasting to the hopes of a mission well done. Even faint gunshots in the distance weren’t enough to dampen our spirits.

“Leaves one question though, Clean,” I said. “What happens while I’m away? What do you do?”

Clean smacked his lips after takin a decent pull from the flask. “Two Tone’s distracting the patrons, I’m off to get the attention of the boss. Devil Luck’s gonna know I’m there sooner or later, may as well speak to him face to face.”

“You’re going to talk with a pony who outright wants you dead? Are you sure that’s the best move?”

“Better to face it head on than a knife in the back,” Domino answered for Clean. “Devil would at least want to speak to Clean before killing him.”

“Worst happens, I’ve got Lock and Stock lookin’ out for me,” Clean tapped his weapons and took another drink.

Two Tone sighed. “Did Two Tone mention how stupid an idea this is?”

“Your drinks,” the mare placed two filthy glasses down between us, giving Clean a dirty look and me a cautious one.

The unicorn grunted his thanks, sipped at the drink, and called for another card. We were forty minutes in and on to the second table, I had more experience with blackjack. Ponies had stopped caring about Clean’s reputation and my appearance after we blew two thousand caps at Caravan. We were two suckers with bad cards: everypony’s best friend.

I looked to mine, the ace of spades and the queen. I took my drink in one go, as whiskey is supposed to. My hooves returned to the table, along with the note slipped under my glass.

Vault is in the basement floor. Unlock with the terminal. East staircase, third door on left. Love, TT. PS, tip her well swinger.

I nodded to the dealer. “Stick. Last play for me. Hey, smoothflanks, what I win on this is yours.”

The waitress did her best to hide her disgust, using her smile at my cards to help. As the cards flipped, I passed the impressive collection of caps to the mare.

“And there you go, never let the looks fool you folks. Here’s the rest, Clean. Try not to blow it all at once.”

“Givin’ up already? Thought you’d have more life in you,” Clean smirked.

“Original joke, smoothcoat, what next, something about beating a dead horse?” I shot him a venomous look. “Don’t forget who’s paying you, wash-up.”

“Fuck’s sake, if you two are throwing down do it somewhere else,” the third player, an earth pony with an interesting collection of axes, growled as she took another drag of her cigarette. “Not looking for a scrap tonight.”

“Mare’s got a point, boys. Play nice or get out,” our dealer added, speaking softly for such a muscled creature. “Shouldn’t have to warn you, Clean Sweep.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just play already.”

“Bring it home girl!” Two roared, hooves sliding down the piano and holding the note. The crowd fell silent. Nopony dared to speak, though thankfully our game of blackjack didn’t require much in the way of communication.

“Someone call a doctor,
Got a lovesick sweet filly,
One second I’m thinking it’s enough,
But my heart just disagrees!”

I heard Clean take a sharp breath as his attention changed from the card game to Domino. I would have pointed for him to continue, but every set of eyes were on the mare. She slinked her way over to the closest table, giving the front row seats a view they’ll never forget. To his credit, Clean knew how to set up a decent distraction. Even if it distracted him as well.

“Holy shit,” the smoking mare whispered to my right.

“Oooh my heart is still aflame,
And oooh that colt plays me like a game!
My only sin is I can’t win
Oooh I wanna love that colt!”

With a single spin, Domino kicked the mic away and pulled it back to her as she brought out the fire for the finale. The poor stallion she had picked out could nothing more than drool as she weaved her magic.

“Oooh that colt is on my list
Ooooh, sweet Luna, I just want a kiss
Yeah, my only sin is I can’t win
Oooh, I’m gonna have that, I’m gonna get that colt!”

Two Tone’s trumpet was drowned out by the raucous cheer from the crowd. Her voice wasn’t bad, but she couldn’t hold a candle to the singers in Equestria’s peak. Not that it mattered to the crowd of gangers and other scum, some even crying over the performance.

With one last refrain, and the one pony band wrapping the song in a neat blast, Two Tone and Domino took their bows at the stage. The unicorn flashed his grin, gesturing to the mare to send the crowd even higher. I made my excuses and slipped out in the commotion, ducking into a set of doors now unguarded.

Time for my solo.

The doors opened up to two staircases, one leading up to the second floor while the other was the ultimate goal. A hall continued to my right, signs pointing me to backstage and the cinema. I would need to go that way to meet up with Domino for the grand finale. First came the fun part, finding the office.

The staircase led me to a level overlooking the gambling hall. I stuck to the far wall, belly almost touching the wine-red carpet as I sneaked along. I paused at the first door to listen in the conversation behind it. Harsh hushed voices came from within, slipping out of earshot as I moved past. The second door swung open as I approached, my heart leaping into my throat.

The door opened outwards, blocking me from sight, and closed on the laughter inside. A mare walked away from me with a tray of empty glasses on her back. Quiet as a mouse I stalked after her, checking behind me once I passed the door. Nopony had come up behind me and the doors remained shut. My luck continued to hold as I saw the mare walk onwards and through another set of doors.

I took once last look around before opening the door to Devil Luck’s office. The unlocked door swung inwards in completely silence, despite the age of the hinges. The post-apocalypse had been kind to the office itself as well, almost making me feel like I had just jumped back in time. The only things stopping me was common sense and the rot in the carpet. Nopony back in my day would allow that kind of disrepair.

The door clicked shut as I locked it behind me. Every bit of warning I could get would help me, especially with everyone downstairs being as well armed as they were. First port of call was the humming terminal sat on a mahogany desk. My luck ran short as the terminal demanded a password to be accessed.

I let the DC-pad do its work and began to nose through the contents of Devil Luck’s office. I mimed a whistle at the impressive collection of alcohol, though did question how good century aged whiskey could taste. The sheer variety of spirits would have given Hoofbeats a run for its money on a good night. It made me realise just how powerful and rich this pony was.

Over an ornate, but completely unused, fireplace sat a display cabinet. A finely made magical energy pistol sat cradled in a velvet cushion, complete with a small card that once detailed why it was there. Most of the quillwork had faded away yet one detail had withstood the test of time.

“Huh, the Shadowbolts,” I thought aloud, smirking a little at the weird ways fate can twist and turn. “How did this get here?”

My pondering on the legendary pegasi agents was short lived when something truly unexpected sat beside it. A small figurine stood inside a sealed glass case, looking untouched after so many years. I ended up double taking just to make sure what I saw was real.

A cyan coat stood as bright as it was in life with wings poised ready for lift off. Her cocky grin matched the life-like pose, filled to the brim with confidence and the power to back every boast up. The figurine stood on a small disk, inscribed with the only words I felt could completely sum up the Mare.

Be Awesome.

The Rainbow Dash statuette sat behind the glass, the slight warping of light showing me just how thick the case was. There was no visible lock nor way of moving the casing and smashing it would ruin the whole stealth operation I had going on. I was hedging my bets on there being a way to open the case from the terminal.

I had so many questions. Who made this? Why did they make it? How did it end up here? Was it related to the energy pistol?

It then dawned on me that I had just planned how I was going to burgle the item.

On the one hoof, I was no thief. Whenever I performed a snatch mission, it was with the greater good in mind. Doesn’t excuse my sin but it did show a justification for the action. To take the statuette would be purely for self-gain, not a greater cause. On the other side, a pony like Devil Luck did not deserve to have such an item. The Ministry Mares weren’t perfect by any means, but they deserved better than this.

Morals slipping, check.

I heard the trill of the DC-pad finishing its work and bounced back to the terminal. The home page splashed up and my hooves instantly moved to the vault opening instructions. With a message appearing confirming that the vault had indeed been unlocked, I scanned quickly through the rest of the options. Another few clicks and the glass case gave a small hiss as it opened.

With my goodies ready, it was time for the real work to begin. I began the fun job of careful reading, working my way through all the folders listed. Most of the information had been corrupted or deleted, leading me to dead ends. What remained was lists of items moving in and out of the Golden Gallop. Most of it was alcohol or drug related with little listing items inside the vault, most of which added in recent years. I grumbled at the lack of information, grinding my teeth as I continued to search.

I only realised that my angry searching had clouded my hearing when I heard conversation from outside the door. I snatched the pad out of the terminal socket and skidded across the floor to the fireplace. The door rattled for a moment, the handle fighting the lock for entry. I locked my eyes on the door as I drew my pistol. My hoof reached out for the statuette, tucking it inside my suit pocket.

I don’t think I could fully describe how I felt once it rested inside. I felt sharper, quicker in thought and lighter in body. Something inside me had just flicked a switch and I was wired. It was almost like being back at Craterside but without the tingle of radiation. Whatever this feeling was, it was all internal.

The door flew open, spraying a few splinters where the lock had been kicked in. I tucked myself into a corner as two suited ponies stormed in. I silently slid behind them, trying to hold the door open as I snuck out. It was, of course, that moment when they decided to look behind them.

We froze long enough for me to sheepishly grin. Then the fighting started. The goon on my right came at me first, diving at me and trying to pin me down. With a flick of my hoof I closed the door and span out of her reach. There was a dull thud as she went head first into the wall and collapsed in a heap.

The other bucked me into the desk, the furniture protesting as much as my bones from the blow. I had no time to recover as he followed up with another two blows to my stomach. My back rammed against solid wood and drove the wind out of me. There was no time to draw in a new breath, the goon pulled me into a lock and began to choke me from behind.

I slammed a hoof against his stomach, trying to get him to loosen his grip even a tiny bit. Two Tone and Domino’s music filled the air as the door swung open, covering the sounds of our struggle and my gurgling. Not that somepony would come to my rescue.

As I struggled, all I could think of was how irritating it is: being strangled twice in a month. I was thankful I had already tested that side of things, else it may have awoken something in me. The edges of my vision started to darken, and it became harder to move my hoof. The goon gave another sharp squeeze on my neck bringing another gurgle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shape swoop over head and kick the goon off me. We hit the ground hard, his head giving a worrying crack against the floor. I looked around during my coughing fit, my throat sore from the sudden intake of air, hunting for my saviour but found no-one new in the room. Just two ponies out cold.

I waited to catch my breath, trying to piece together what just happened. Maybe I managed to get a lucky hit in with an involuntary headbutt. Maybe something had startled my attacker. Or maybe somepony had just appeared from nowhere, knocked out the silent stallion, then vanished into thin air. I caught sight of myself, panting, in the glass of the alcohol cabinet.

The harlequin waved from the chair and went back to playing house with two crudely made ponies.

“Thank you, thank you very much, fillies and gentlecolts. Let’s hear it for the wonderful, the stupendous, and the downright gorgeous, Domino!” Two Tone led the building in applause as I pulled the door to. “She’ll be takin’ a well-deserved rest, and Two Tone will be back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere, swingers.”

I shook away a shiver of worry and put myself together, checking that seat was empty behind me. I dragged the unconscious ponies out of immediate sight and closed the door behind me as I walked back out onto the balcony. Radio music filled the air as I moved away from the offices and towards the stairs, moving faster to compensate my lack of careful sneaking. If two ponies had come knocking for me, others knew something was happening. Speed was more important than anything right now.

My hooves barely made a tap as they moved down the staircase. I kept the swift, silent movement across the hall to backstage, ducking through the doors. Two Tone drank heavily from a bottle while Domino stripped behind a fancy dresser. The unicorn waved me over, patting my shoulder as I approached. Despite all his hard work, he was barely sweating.

“Hey swinger, all fine?”

“Yeah, need to take care of something first though. Domino, I’ll be ten minutes tops. Vault’s already open, meet you down there.”

Domino gave a stressed grunt in response. I took it as a yes and bounded back through the doors and towards the cinema.

The cinema is a magical place.

Or, rather, was a magical place. Just like books and comics could take you to other worlds, movies transported you there. You stood on the same ground as Daring Do, cheered along with Sword Mare, and booed the villains along with every other pony in the room. You knew it was all flash and trickery, but it didn’t matter.

Breaking this illusion was hard - mostly because there was a locked door in the way. With a lot of cursing, I managed to break the lock open with sheer force. Inside, my prize of a projector and a whole host of film reels. I moved quickly, grabbing whatever I could from the room. My luck renewed from earlier, finding a projector in the process of being repaired in another room.

My saddlebags now filled to the brim with enough wartime entertainment to satisfy ponies for years to come, I made my way towards the door. A voice in my head told me to drop to floor and remain as quiet as a corpse. Surprisingly easy, that.

In the theatre, I could hear voices chattering back and forth. My ears swivelled to pick out the conversation, stomach churning as I did.

“You’re a long way from home,” a stallion remarked, voice tinged with the rasp of a long time smoker. “Why’re you here? What does Snake want with me now?”

“Snake Eyes,” my blood ran cold.

“What?”

“His name is Snake Eyes, use the whole name. Please,” Septic Shock replied.

My mind raced as I heard his carefully placed hoofsteps. How did he get here already? Who told him we were coming here? Did he get to Craterside? Does he know we’re here?

“You don’t scare me, Septic. None of Snake’s colts do. All hot air, no substance,” a chair squeaked as the speaker sat down. “Get on with it, why’re you here?”

“I’m after somepony, heard he’ll be here soon enough.”

“Cleaning up your boss’s messes again? Sounds ‘bout right, who’re you after?”

I could hear Septic’s smile, “A certain unicorn, you’ll be pleased to hear.”

The other pony burst out in a laugh, slapping something as he chortled into a cough. “Well, well, ain’t this your lucky day! Before you strolled on in, the boys just let me know he wants to speak to me. Face to face, all alone! Wondered in with some corpse, tried to pull the wool over my eyes. Already saw the ghoul go into my office, the sleaseball.”

Seven circles!

“You don’t say! That is very lucky of me, mind if I drop in on the meeting?”

“My dear boy, it would be my pleasure! Imagine that, just what you came to do landing on your lap like that. Somepony up there likes you, colt,” I heard the chair squeak again as the speaker stood up. “Before we get to business, there isn’t anything that Snake Eyes needs, is there? Just to be sure.”

“Other than that, it’s just personal business,” I could feel his eyes piercing through the solid wall, staring straight at me. I could see his twisted grin as he licked his lips. I could smell the scent of Priouette’s blood on his knife.

“I was wondering if somepony managed to see the balloons.”

“Hard! What’s wrong? You’re late and you look like shit, everything ok?”

I nodded blankly, trying to work out the shakes that had overtaken me.

“Vault’s open, but we’ve got bigger problems. Septic’s here, and he knows we are too,” I motioned for her to follow, leading us down the stairs. “We need to grab what we can and fast, before anypony realises what we’re here to steal...”

Timing is everything in comedy. Fate is a master of that art and loves to remind us when it is tempted. Naturally, it was at that moment we walked into three zoot suit wearing ponies. The tension swelled in an instant, both sides unsure what to do.

Domino solved that problem with a knife.

In a single bound, she pulled the blade out of a sheath and drove it into the neck of one of the guards. The others recoiled long enough for me to tackle one to the floor and stomp on his windpipe. He began to gasp, eyes bugging and watering from the effort. My attention turned to the last opponent but found that she now had a knife stuck in her eye. Strange sounds came from her as she twitched, Domino finishing her off with a quick shove of the blade.

I panted as my own opponent flailed at me, his hooves dragging on my suit. We locked eyes, which was a mistake. I closed mine and let Domino finish the job, busying myself with moving the corpses out of view. After stuffing them inside a closet we moved on, silent and serious.

Ahead loomed the vault door. It was far less imposing that I would have thought, my impressions coming from old comic books. You know the kind: massive cog shaped door with a concerning number of locks on it. This was just an ordinary metal door with a green light above it. Inside, however, met all expectations.

My whistle was loud and clear this time, covered by the nearly closed door. Rows upon rows of heavy safes sat waiting to be opened, all with every possibly form of lock on it. Several had thick layers of dust, others had been forced open long ago or had the remains of lockpicks stuck inside. Piles of rotting notes sat waiting to be claimed, while dulled Bits lay strewn across the counting desks.

We moved over to the cage in the back, Domino fishing out a set of keys and testing each one. I gave her a quizzical look.

“Two Tone. I’ll give it to him, he’s damn resourceful when it comes to this sort of thing.”

We left any further discussion unsaid, not wanting to pry into the methods he used. I picked through the few safes that had been forced open for anything that may have been overlooked. My hunch was rewarded with a beaten up, dusty, but intact copy of Martial Arts of the Zebras. My eyes bulged when I saw it was the unedited version as well. It slid neatly beside the film reels.

Domino gave a quiet cheer. The cage clicked open and we swarmed the small space. My eyes ignored the rows of memory orbs as they were drawn to a briefcase. Black metal, with a golden trim. The side facing up had the, now ancient, flag of Equestria in gold, surrounded by the emblems of the six ministries.

I popped the case open, feeling a hiss as the air pressure changed. Inside lay six memory orbs with a golden ticket and another indent underneath each one. The shapes had little uniformity, only that two appeared long and thin, while the other four were significantly smaller. Stuck to the underside of the top case, a written note.

Mysteries to be solved, but we had what we came for. Domino placed the case into her saddlebags and we made a swift exit from the vault.

We rounded the corner back to the performance hall, watching Two Tone as he led the crowd in a frenzied song. Whole tables of drunken gamblers, gangsters and raiders swung in time to the song. Drinks, drugs, guns and caps were flung everywhere as glasses were raised to the stage drunk stallion. With a practiced flourish, he flashed a smile to the room, raising his hoof to the roof.

“Sing it ponies, Oh tell me quick
Oooooh, ain’t that a kick
Tell me quick, ain’t that a kick,
In the heeeeeeeeead!”

I grinned to Domino, pointing at the singing stallion, “See, culture!”

The smile cut short as there was a yell from the second floor, a very familiar unicorn flying off the edge and bouncing onto the stage. Two Tone managed an exclamation before being slammed into his enchanted instruments. Rolling onto his hooves, Clean Sweep glared at the direction he flew from. He shouted something inaudible over the grumbles and complaints of the watching patrons, before saying something to Two Tone.

“What do you mean the plan’s gone to hell? Two Tone ain’t bailin’ now, these pricks are putty in these hooves. That just doesn’t fly, swinger,” Two Tone blurted, suddenly remembering his magically enhanced voice. “Huh. And with that, Two Tone has left the building!”

The room fell silent at the sound of a gunshot, all eyes moving upwards. Except for Clean, he buried his face in his hooves and recounted every swear under the sun, while Two Tone tried to sneak away behind the curtains. I tapped Domino’s shoulder, gesturing to the small number of goons that were advancing towards us. We moved back to back, looking around at the smartly dressed ponies.

“Evening folks, Devil Luck here with a fantastic new game for you all,” Our gracious host’s voice called out from above us. “This here unicorn, one Clean Sweep, is wanted by our good friends in Manehatten. Now, while his bounty is already claimed by Mr Shock over here, his companions have yet to have one placed! Two Tone, his mare Domino, and the ghoul: five thousand caps for each of their heads, extra ten thousand for the set. Have fun folks!”

I readied into a low stance, glaring at the nearest goon, “Fantastic.”

The goon smirked as his horn glowed, magic feeling for his weapon. I got ready to leap out of the way of bullets only to hesitate as he pulled out an evil looking device. The unholy offspring of heavy duty construction equipment and a circular saw, complete with wasteland-yellow paint job and a sign reminding us of ‘Safety First!’

The machine gave a deep grumble as the goon revved it twice, turning into a high pitch whine that blocked out the new chaos in the room. The weapon moved with all the grace of a brick house as the spinning end was thrust at me. I easily side stepped the attack, straight into the swing of a baton. I twisted my head to grab the object from the teeth of the wielder and we locked into a struggle for the weapon.

The struggle came short as the whining blade came back, taking half of my ear as I rolled away. With blood oozing down the side of my face, and the realisation that I almost lost my head, I turned tail from the fight. I ran for the staircase, weaving as shots rang across the gambling hall. There were a few screams as patrons where hit, coupled with the distinct shouts of Devil Luck as he roared orders to his goons. From the corner of my eye, I could see Clean Sweep in the middle of melee as he cracked the head of a ganger with his shotgun, firing the other into the face of Devil Luck’s goon.

The whine chased me up the stairs, as did several shouts for me to just off myself to save them the effort. Splinters flew into the air as the machine took another swipe and embedded itself into the staircase. The goon grunted as he pulled it back out with his hooves, the weapon too stuck for just magic, while his companion bounded past him.

We locked hooves once again, kicking at one another as she tried to bring the baton down on me once more. I tucked a hoof in the soft underside of her jaw and locked her head away. She managed to get two strikes to my face as a reward for the effort, making a gurgling sound as I pressed against her windpipe.

I caught the fear in her eyes just in time, spinning us around as the blade came in for another attack. The whine changed pitch as it bit into her leg and jets of warm blood shot across the staircase. The baton fell to the ground in a clatter as the goon screamed. I took the opportunity to throw her into the other, sending them both tumbling down the stairs. The whine stopped as the magic was released.

Safety first indeed.

My relief was short lived as I joined them at the bottom, the wind driven out of me as I heard the distinct sound of small arms fire. I groaned from the throbbing ache in my back and shakily stood back up. Without the whine, I could hear the battle raging in the gambling hall. It seemed that the announcement had set the fuse on the powder keg: everyone was fighting one another, bounty or no.

My attention rushed back to my own situation when I felt a piercing pain in my shoulder, blood slowly seeping down my leg. I looked over and saw a familiar claw-knife sticking out of my back. The owner took his time descending the stairs.

“Well looky here! Didn’t I kill you already?” Septic Shock grinned at my despairing look, his magic wiggling the knife until it touched a nerve. The grin grew at my shriek of agony.

“Oi, fuck face,” the uninjured unicorn grumbled beneath me. “This one’s our kill, seeing as the boss said Squeaky’s off limits. Go get your own prize.”

Septic looked around for a moment before pointing a hoof at himself, “Oh, me. I’m sorry, mind saying that again?”

The goon just managed to move his head out of the way as the knife flew at him. I dived forwards as the mare rolled to her hooves and leapt at Septic with a pained shriek. Her body slid down the stairs as Septic casually blew a sizeable hole in her head and cackled.

“Wow, what was that about? Hey zombie, don’t go too far now! I’ve got special treatment for liars!” he giggled again as the remaining goon attacked Septic with a scream of rage. The two entered a dance of death to the sound of the whining saw, doors swinging shut on them.

A few patrons had gone for Clean, but most of them were either full of buckshot or hiding behind cover, nursing their wounds. The wounded unicorn had taken a position on the stage with Two Tone, the pair repelling any attempts behind the cover of instruments and heavy curtains. Two kept most at bay, using his shield where he could, and attracting attention towards him as Clean attempted to stem the trickles of blood from under his own clothes. Domino lay behind them, drinking from a healing potion.

I turned and ran into the hall, dodging and ducking under the tables as I went. The axe wielding mare came at from nowhere, blood streaming from a nasty cut over one eye, only to be batted out of the way by a frothing unicorn. My saviour turned to killer, as she rounded on me with her weapon: a sledgehammer with a particularly bright gem worked into the metal. A very small voice in the back of my head informed me it was probably a super sledge, and I was about to feel what ‘up to three tonnes’ of force felt like.

Then her body caught fire. As she ran screaming, I picked out a sharp whistle and saw Two Tone waving to me behind the makeshift barricade of card tables and instruments. I raced to the stage, leaping as the piano was pulled out of the way. A few shots slammed into the cover.

I panted as Two looked over my wounds, assuring me that they weren’t serious. Given the empty bottles around us, it looked like Domino had taken the worst of the fight. She sat with pupils dilated, swaying a little as the magic put her back together.

“Two Tone hates to say he told you so, swinger, but he-”

“Luna alive, Two, shut the fuck up,” Domino screamed at him, one eye blackened. “Just shut the fuck up for the next ten minutes.”

Two Tone cowered, ears dropping as he did as he was told. I even felt a little guilty, despite not having done anything wrong. As far as I knew. Clean grunted a greeting to me, firing a shot into the crowd and getting an oddly familiar scream in return.

“Good shot!” I shouted to him. “You have more of those shells?”

“Yeah, they just ain’t enough for this. You get everythin’?” he shouted over the din, lining up another shot. I checked my saddlebags and found the film reels and projector parts miraculously unharmed.

“Domino picked up the most important parts. We need to get out of here!” I yelled, stuffing my gun into my mouth and firing a few shots off.

“Workin’ on it. Two, remember the Fetlock thing? Let’s try that again.”

We did little to assist the battle, conserving ammo for the patrons who were money hungry enough to go for us. Two Tone used his shield and instruments as reactive cover, moving it to block the stray bullets and other projectiles. There’s something amazing in seeing a guitar bat a stick of dynamite away.

The fighting came to a halt with a roar of synchronised gunfire. On the other side of the hall stood a sharply dressed unicorn, five goons all in battle saddles beside him. Each saddle had two nasty looking rifles attached, while the unicorn simply sipped from a cocktail glass. Clean swore as he ducked back behind cover.

“Ok, ok, think we’ve all had our fun, agreed?” Devil shouted out. “Think we can all just calm down now, hmm?”

He flicked his glass to one side and started to comb his quiff. “Now, that bounty is still up, but before I start charging for damages to my fine establishment, I think we should stop shooting at each other and at the pricks we should be shooting at, you fucking idiots. Clean Sweep! Get your ass out here before I blow all of you to kingdom come, you sorry sack of shit!”

“Two seconds, my shotgun ain’t loaded,” Clean yelled, his weapons clacking shut with fresh shells. “Now, I know we ain’t seein’ eye to eye recently, but I’m doin’ what I can to make it up to you. Your folk shouldn’t have been there in the first place, even came here to apologise and make amends for my wrongs. Callin’ for every lowlife in this bar for me an’ my friends’ heads just ain’t hospitable of you, frankly.”

“Make amends?! Your previous exploits are just the beginning, colt. You show up at my door, threaten my staff, and personally insult me? Next, you send the fucking corpse skulking around doing who knows what in my office!” Devil’s rage was punctuated with the sounds of rifles shuffling. “Cream of the crop, you send this sex-fuelled performer into my home, he drinks my booze, fucks my mares, takes my things! Colt, you get out here and make up for this now!”

Clean frowned at the charges, looking to Domino then Two Tone. The singer shrugged in response.

“Said to blend in swinger, so Two Tone did just that. Three waitresses and one guard, one evening.”

“You work fast,” I said, not hiding how impressed I was. Two winked and mouthed a thank you, despite the disapproving looks from the others.

“Perhaps we could strike a deal,” Domino shouted back, voice slurring slightly.

“I’m not interested in talking to no-ponies, sweetheart.”

“I’m sure we can work this out like civilised ponies.”

“Civilised? You think that raider wannabe is a civilised pony? You even know what he’s done?”

“Devil!” Clean roared, all of us flinching from the sudden rage. And fear.

“He ain’t told you? My, my, Clean Sweep what a bad pony you’ve been. Getting a little hot under the collar for you?” Devil Luck chuckled. I looked to Two Tone, who was as clueless as me, while Clean began to stare into nothingness, his eyes glazing over. “This little pony has done more than shoot up some two-bit gangers, things that’ll make it a damn pleasure to see him off. Little Squeaky here’s all grown up, done some real killing now.”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!” Domino near enough screamed. “I don’t care what he’s done, it’s nothing compared to the sick fuck behind you.”

“I might’ve taken offense to that, if it weren’t true,” Septic replied to howls of laughter.

“Dom…” Clean said in a quiet voice, pulling her close to him. Two met my uncertain gaze and nodded slowly. Devil continued his monologue, but we tuned him out as we looked to Clean.

“Hey, swingers, Two Tone may not know what’s goin’ on right now, but he thinks that you need to snap out of it,” his voice cut across Clean, who weakly nodded. “We’re flank deep in it, and we need somepony who can get us out, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Two’s right,” I said. “Pull yourself together, boss. To use your words, we ain’t dying here.”

Devil calmed the crowd down, chuckling himself. “Hoo, well that was interesting. The time for talk is all over now, little miss. Don’t know how you got wrapped up in all this, but you’re sure not walking away from it. Don’t think you’ll be missed much either. I’m giving you five.”

Clean gave Domino a quick kiss, a farewell for the worst, and passed her knife. Her teeth chomped down on it and she nodded firmly, despite being barely stable.

“Four.”

He then sighed as he brought up his two shotguns.

“Three.”

Two Tone fidgeted, looking for something to grab in his magic, and whispered what sounded like a prayer.

“Two.”

I checked my ammo. Five more shots before I needed to reload.

“One.”

Two things happened at the same time. First, the central piece of cover, a roulette table, was flung into the air by Septic Shock’s magic. Second, Devil Luck’s cronies opened fire in near perfect synchronisation.

Two Tone swung the piano across the room to block the wall of bullets. At least, it’s what he attempted to do. The piano overshot and sailed towards me after catching most of the shots. I let fight and flight take control, and they decided to kick the instrument instead of getting me out of the way. Something whispered in the back of my mind about being Awesome and I obeyed.

The Datplacers activated as they struck the wood, sending the piano flying in a new direction. The only thing standing between it and the nearest wall was a rather bemused, quickly changed to terrified, Devil Luck. He managed a squeak of fear before eight-hundred pounds of wooden instrument smashed into him and then the wall.

It even managed a “bong” as the dust and paste settled.

Those who still lived stared at the wall, watching a hoof slowly flop to the floor. Stillness filled the air as nopony knew how to react. The goons had just lost their source of income in an accident, the hopeful bounty hunters had just lost their payout, and the remaining raiders no longer had an authority figure to fear. Septic looked on, shrugged at us, hollered like a pony possessed, and fired a shot into a random mare.

Chaos took hold once again.

I dived behind cover, looking at the paled faces of the others. Two Tone looked the worst of all, slightly greenish in his face. Domino rubbed her face as more splinters flew from stray shots. Clean busied himself with reloading, having fired all shots at once. Despite the earlier reaction, he seemed almost back to normal. Almost.

“Ghoul!” Clean roared at me. “Cover Two while he gets ready.”

I poked my head over the cover, tongue pulling the trigger as quick as I could. Most of the automatic wielding ponies had ran out of ammo far earlier on, the smarter ones having conserved ammo in shorter bursts. Of course, with our luck, Septic Shock was among them. The mad-pony now swung the whining saw into any pony he saw. Most of the damage was from the sheer weight of the device, though I could see that he had made short work of the battle-saddled goons.

Spinning back under cover, I busied with reloading. The stage filled with light as Two Tone’s horn began to glow with an aura. He was blocked from view with the stage curtain, Clean gritting his teeth as he fired away. Domino slumped against him, shaking her head as she fought off the wooziness from the painkillers.

Two Tone’s horn added another aura as he focused, sweat beading on his brow. We scurried to the back of the stage, hiding behind what cover we could find and screwed our eyes tight. I heard Clean whip the curtain away.

“Bang.”

To us, it sounded like Two Tone had just said the word. No louder than he spoke normally. To everypony else in the room, he had turned a single word into a wave of unhearable sound. Pure force smacked into their eardrums as the room filled with a light brighter than the sun.

I waited a second before poking my head over the cover. Ponies staggered around, pawing at their eyes and making strange noises as they tried to gauge what they could hear. Two Tone stood woozy at the front of the stage before falling to one side. I managed to prop him up until Domino came to join us, Clean covering our exit.

We made our way past the groaning ponies, my remaining skin crawling as I saw Septic laughing in his dazed state. Two Tone started to become more confident in his steps and let me scout on ahead. Most of the goons we had passed on our entrance had rushed in to join the fight earlier, leaving a few dead in the hallway. At the other end, I could see two very confused guards.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

I saw Point Blank and Scabs looking in at the chaos, both too distracted to see the rushing ghoul coming towards them. The door slammed into their faces. Then it slammed on their heads again to be sure. I opened it after I heard groaning and swiped back my pouch of caps from them.

“Great place, you get five stars from me.”

“Wh-what?” Point mumbled before curling up to massage the bump on her head.

“Never you mind, let’s go!” I turned as I heard fighting break out again, rushing back to help.

The others galloped towards me, Clean spinning around to fire off a shot as I caught up. I joined in with the covering fire, hearing Two and Domino make their excuses as they stepped over the guards. We spun back around to join them only for Clean to stumble.

I then realised the last shot wasn’t ours. Septic leaned drunkenly against the doorframe with a wicked grin and blew on the tip of his gun. Clean gave a fearful cry as I shouted for him to move.

I grabbed his hoof, pulling him to stand back up when he fell again. His face turned nearly white as he looked up at me, the shock taking away his power to speak. His legs failed a third time when I saw the problem. I threw him onto my back and moved as fast as I could, praying that Septic’s aim hadn’t recovered any further.

We burst into the cold night’s air and took off after Domino and Two into the darkness.

Dear Hard,

I found this the other day during the weekly check up on the police reports, I was wondering about some of the details that night!

Hope

Manehatten Police Department Report No.20557#A-1110

Night of the 11^th of the 10^th Moon

Address: Flat 7, Saddle Suites, 42^nd Street.

House call at 2am regarding a noise disturbance, called in by a Miss Honey Dream, coming from an apartment below her own. Officer Iron Nails responded to the dispatch. Upon arrival, Officer Nails could hear the mentioned disturbance. Rather than being that of “somepony being murdered”, he commented that it appeared to be the opposite. Officer Nails proceeded to knock on the door.

After the third attempt, the door opened. Officer Nails greeted the resident, one Hard Copy [Earth Pony, male] and checked with the resident that everything was well. Officer Nails noted that the resident appeared to be under the influence of Party-Time Mint-Als, and potentially other substances, but could find no evidence beyond the disposition of Mr Hard Copy. Officer Nails was not equipped with a drug testing kit at this time.

After reassuring Officer Nails that he was fine, Mr Copy attempted to close the door. Officer Nails spotted another pony in the apartment and requested to speak to her. Mr Copy initially refused but agreed on the condition that the nature of the situation is not in the report. As compliance, the report will not go into detail about how Miss Hope (pegasus, female) was tied up, nor about the various objects in the room.

Miss Hope confirmed that the situation was consensual.

Officer Iron Nails then requested the two keep noise within a respectable level as the other residents have complained. Mr Copy agreed, and Officer Nails left the scene.

Actions taken: One (1) Verbal Warning. No further action required.

End of Report

PS: Still up for drinks at mine? Think it’s your turn next!

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