I will admit- getting stabbed was not part of the plan. That being said, it somewhat worked to my advantage. After all- a high profile temperance movement leader getting shanked while shopping is sure to generate media outrage. At least, that’s the narrative that I’m gonna push.

I plan to have one of my enforcers either bribe or intimidate the employees at the store to help support my narrative; I wasn’t working there, I was just shopping and happened to run into the wrong guy.

The reasoning is simple- to protect my wife. If that guy happened to run into me, imagine if people like him knew that they could find my wife at that same store 5 days a week? Coupled with the fact that I’m having her bodyguards stay close to her at all times, I’m hoping that she’ll be well protected.

That said- I need to figure out a way to arm my wife with at least a pistol. The problem is, how do you make a gun which could be fired by hooves? They’re dexterous enough to grab things and hold them, but not capable of pulling a trigger one-handed… er, one-hooved. Hoofed? I don’t friggin’ know.

I have a couple ideas, but it definitely needs work. One option I’m thinking of pursuing is a “glove gun” of sorts where it’s worn around her hoof like a sock or a glove and secured with straps. The problem with that design, however, is the fact that she would constantly have to wear it, and my utilitarian firearm designs aren’t really conducive to high fashion. Not to mention, I would have to create a mechanism which would bring the barrel forward enough as to not allow the muzzle blast to burn her hoof. I wonder if I could create a mechanism which would do that, and use the movement to spark the powder, somehow?

Actually… you ever seen one of those basket-hilt swords which completely cover the hand? Imagine that, but instead of a sword, it’s a firearm? That would solve the problem of the muzzle blast, and it would allow it to be holstered to her side. The basket would surround her hoof for maximum grip, and I wouldn’t have to make a special mechanism for it- I could just use a standard flintlock modified to be more compact.

For both types of firearms, I’m thinking of using a “fan trigger”- that is, you ever seen how cowboys would fan revolvers? Perhaps I could put the trigger on top, like a revolver hammer; the idea being that she could whip out her pistol, and use her off-hoof to fire it from a trigger on the top. But just like fanning a real revolver- it would be inaccurate as all hell due to the lack of sights. Perhaps making it a shotgun would work better? Like a lupara for ponies, basically.

If I smoked a bunch of crack, I would also consider a design that’s reminiscent of two rifles mounted to a saddle and fired by biting on a bridle. That’s stupid for several reasons; One, how do you aim that? Just point at the enemy and hope for the best? Two, it would basically be a crew operated weapon, where someone else would have to reload. Even if they were magazine fed, how the hell is an earth pony, or a pegasi for that matter, gonna reach all the way back to reload and recock the gun? I feel like I saw that one in a dream, and the only reason I remember it is because I thought “wow, that would never fucking work in any situation.”

But that’s enough nerding out over hypothetical firearm designs. Back to the here-and-now.

Last thing I remember last night is being carted off to a hospital while some paramedic injected me with something against my wishes. The last thing I need is a morphine addiction- but mercifully, it did make the hurting stop.

Once again, I woke up in a hospital to the sound of a heartbeat monitor near my head and a blood bag attached to my wrist. I tried to get up, and instead winced out loud. Fuck, it hurts! Nevermind, guess I’m not getting up. I felt out my left side where I got stabbed and felt several stitches. Bastard cut me up pretty good- I just hope none of my organs got too fucked up. It was quite tender to the touch- even my light grazes caused me to cringe terribly.

“God, this fucking sucks.” But still- definitely not my first rodeo. It was much preferable to getting shot, that’s for sure. But given the choice, I’d rather have neither happen to me.

The doctor slowly opened the door and greeted me with a smile. “Glad to see you’re awake.” He said, and I nodded. “You feeling alright?”

I just snorted. “Yeah, just peachy. Not like there’s a hole in my side held together by string. Am I gonna be alright?” The doctor just chuckled.

“You’ll be just fine, Mrs. Grimfeather.” He came over and began undoing all the IV’s and the heartbeat… what you call’ems. “You’ll recover quickly, as long as you take plenty of rest. The same, however, can’t be said for your assailant.”

I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. “Yeah, I figured as much. How bad was the damage, if I might ask?” The doctor looked up and glanced from side to side.

“I shouldn’t tell you this… but that piece of lead shattered his sternum and went right through his heart. He was dead on the scene.” I nodded in satisfaction. That’s the .45 stoppin’ powah, baybeee!

With that, the doctor helped me out of bed, and I winced in pain the whole way to the floor. We walked to the lobby and I was using my wing to prop myself against him. He offered to get me a wheelchair at some point, but I respectfully declined. Like I said- I’ve dealt with worse pain before. He also offered to prescribe me pain meds, but I declined less respectfully. Again- I’ve seen plenty of opium junkies to know where that path would lead.

When we reached the lobby, my wife and her bodyguards were waiting for me. Dee wrapped me in a hug and I kissed her on the cheek.

“Mrs. Grimfeather?” I looked towards where the desk clerk was, “Would you mind signing something before you leave?” I nodded and went to do that, and once I was finished, I saw that there was almost a convoy of carriages waiting on us. One was a private closed carriage for us and the other would be full of our bodyguards.

It’s nice being rich.

Dee helped me into my seat and we were on our way. I breathed a sigh of relief with a weary smile on my face.

“Well, that could’ve gone better, huh?” I asked Dee- and she sniffled in response. I immediately pulled her into a hug.

“I-it’s all my fault…” she buried her face in my shoulder, and I said-

“No the fuck it is not your fault! If I ran into that guy in any other context, the same thing would’ve happened. If anything, it was my fault for letting my guard down.”

“Leona, you could’ve been killed there!” she was beginning to get hysterical, and I held her close.

“Baby, please. It’ll take a lot more than that to kill me. I knew the risks when I decided to support that movement, even if it was just for my own political and financial gain.”

“I-I know, but… It just hurts, you know?” She said, and I almost snorted aloud. Bitch, you weren’t the one who got stabbed here.

“I understand, baby. I’ll be more careful, I promise.” I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, “And I want you to do the same. Always keep your bodyguards close.” She gave me a weary smile and nodded.

Once she calmed herself down, she sniffed and asked, “So how did it go, aside from that?” I couldn’t help but give her a laugh.

“It was fucked! I can’t believe you put up with fucks like that all day!” She snorted, and I continued ranting- “First thing I go to do is sit down and have a cigarette, and this bitch calls me up front! Says we overcharged her five fucking bits for potatoes! Then once the cashier fixed it, she had the audacity to complain to me!” I was going off, and Dee was laughing her ass off.

“Like, can you fuckin’ believe it!? There’s people the world over, griffons especially, dying in the street because they can’t even afford food! And that small inconvenience is so terrible, you have to bitch to someone about it!?” I groaned in annoyance and Dee was holding her side from laughing.

“Glad I taught that bitch a lesson.” I gave a dark chuckle.

“Hehe, yeah- wait, what?” Dee stopped her laughter and a dark grin formed on my face.

“Kyeh, yeah! Held a knife to her throat and had the cashier charge her double. Wasn’t so smug after that, I’ll tell ya.” After a few seconds, I heard my wife facepalm.

“Isn’t threatening my customers the one thing I told you not to do?” I spread my arms out and said,

“Well, she deserved it!” She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“What… dare I ask, what else happened?” Let me see- I almost pissed myself after being held hostage for an hour by an old man, almost strangled a newlywed couple, idly fucked around for awhile…

“Not anything, really.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“If you say so.” Finally, she began to giggle. “I told you it was a whole ‘nother world.” I gave her a smile.

Aside from discussing the narrative I wanted to push, the rest of the ride home was uneventful. Thankfully, Dee said she was more than happy to handle all that stuff- which left me with plenty of time to rest at home. She helped me up to our penthouse, which thank fuck had an elevator, and I was just chilling on the couch.

“Alright, honey… see you later?” She said, and I smiled and nodded, kissing her on the cheek.

“Stay safe out there! Love ya.” She smiled, and soon, I was left to my own devices. With nothing better to do- I decided to start drawing up plans for that hoofgun.

---

Honestly? Being stabbed is hardly the worst thing to happen to me, in this life or the last. Nowhere near as difficult as dealing with the revelation that there was a louse living in my mouth, I’ll tell you that for free.

Given time to ponder- I began to wonder why- Why I was brought here, why it wasn’t anyone else, what my purpose was… Well, that’s not entirely correct. The way I see it, life has whatever meaning you assign to it, and your purpose is whatever you want it to be.

In my past life, I was just another degenerate gangster. It was difficult being the only woman in the organization- and I had to work three times as hard to keep proving my worth. In a way, it felt as though my life and destiny were in the hands of others, and it’s not wrong at all to say that. I really did owe a lifetime debt to my boss for when he got me out of my first death sentence.

I was 17 at the time. I’d dropped out of school at 15 and decided to make a name for myself. This was in the middle of the 60s- so there were plenty of opportunities to make a name for yourself and even more if you happened to be a man. That’s why I always hung out with “The Boys”- because they had the skills, and I had the ambition.

We wasted no time- within a few years, we had most of the New York waterfront in our back pocket at the time. It was small pennies compared to what the Mob itself were making- but it was still good for kids our age. At that point, I had no problems with taking out my rivals.

Ah, to be young and dumb- while I was good at killing, I didn’t quite learn how to cover my tracks at the time- so me and a couple friends of mine were arrested and slapped with life sentences.

Naturally, I survived prison by doing what I did best- being a violent maniac. My friends were doing the same in the male ward, and caught the attention of some prominent gangsters. They promised my friends that they would get them out of jail- but my friends refused unless they managed to bail me out, too. So, one retrial later; one in which all the witnesses either didn’t show up or changed their stories, and I was free.

That’s right- I was saved from being killed the first time by sheer, dumb luck. After that, I rose in the ranks and eventually was in charge of the hit team- but the fact that I was a woman still made things difficult. I was working three times as hard as these fucks, yet a bunch of them didn’t see me as anything more than “That broad on the hit squad.”

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job and I loved doing what I did- but fuck it was exhausting. And the more I think about it- I feel as though my past life only served the purpose of preparing me for this one. When I was born here- I knew what I was doing. I knew how to survive, how to fight, how to manipulate- and how to kill.

But yet, I also experienced so much more while I was here, things I never had the time to learn or experience back then- how to love and how to be loved. I feel as though that’s a far more precious thing than any survival skill. Hell, in retrospect, were my “friends” in the organization even real friends? I don’t feel the same way for any of them like the way I feel for Emmie. I don’t know.

But at the end of the day- it is what it is, I suppose.

Eventually, I was brought out of my idle wanderings by my wife entering the penthouse. I smelled something wonderful- Chineighse takeout. My stomach rumbled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. I greeted my wife with a kiss and we began to dig in.

“Figured you’d be hungry.” She said with a giggle, and I was too busy shoveling food into my mouth to grace her with an answer. I finally stopped to take a breath and chuckled.

“You know me so well. How’d it go?” I asked her in between mouthfuls of beef lo-mane.

“Quite well, actually. The media’s going wild with the story about the local temperance hero getting shanked in a Barnyard Bargains.” I smiled and nodded in satisfaction. “I even got you a radio interview in a couple days.”

I paused briefly, slurping up some noodles. “You did vet the questions first, right?” I asked and she nodded. “Good.”

“Yeah, there shouldn’t be anything too personal in there. And even if there is, you’re the best bullshitter I know.” I snorted in response.

“True that.”

---

Just as I expected, media support for the temperance movement was unanimous- although for me, it was more of a bootlegging movement. Pedantics, though. Thankfully, the wound had been healing quite nicely- as I found out, the guy cut me long, but not too terribly deep- so it would heal rather quickly. Especially since I found out that the ambient magic of Equestria actually has a positive effect on healing. I won’t pretend to know how it works.

Within these few days, I was back to walking on my own and I’m sure within a couple weeks, I’m sure Dee and I will be back to fucking up the bedframe. But until then- I still had that radio interview to do. I was wearing my normal gear and took a carriage.

I was instructed to take the elevator to the penthouse of the tower- which is where the studio was. When I got to the top, I decided to play up my injuries by limping around.

“Oh, goodness! Can I assist you?” The desk clerk came up to greet me, and I waved her off.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just get me a chair.” I was ushered into the recording studio and greeted the presenter with a nod.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Grimfeather! My name’s Radio Wave- but you can call me Rose.” She almost looked like she was monochrome, with a dark gray coat and a black mane, with light gray eyes. I gave her a smile,

“Pleasure’s all mine. And please, call me Leona.” She smiled and nodded, shuffling some papers. The studio was a simple setup, with a large panel full of doo-dads and devices, and one microphone between us.

“Well, Leona, I just wanna go over a few things before we start. First thing is basic rules- No swearing, no saying inappropriate things, the basic stuff.” I nodded simply. “But of course, I’m sure you already knew that. This interview is gonna be a casual ordeal- I’m gonna be asking you about yourself, your involvement with the temperance movement, that sort of stuff.”

“Sounds easy enough. When we goin’ live?” I asked, and she checked her watch.

“Right… now.” She said, leaning into the mic and hitting a switch.

“Good afternoon, Manehattan! This is Radio Rose coming live from The Downtown Rook Studios. Today, I’ll be interviewing a special guest!” She gave a brief pause for dramatic effect. “You may know her as an avid supporter of the temperance movement, and I’m sure that more of you have heard of the recent tragedy which has befallen her! But did you know? She also invented and patented the Grimfeather-Eye method of ammonia production, which is predicted to increase the world's farming output by 100 fold! Introducing our guest- Leona Grimfeather.” I was a little impressed, actually- she did her homework, evidently.

“How’s it goin’? Name’s Leona.” Rose just gave a giggle in response.

“So let’s start with that whole ‘ammonia’ thing- Leona, what inspired you to invent such a process?” She asked, and I figured I could use this opportunity to make some good publicity for myself.

“Well, as you know, the world's population has increased dramatically in the last 100 years. I was doing research and realized a troubling fact- despite earth pony magic feeding the ground, the production of crops has stayed largely the same, and has stagnated. Eventually, I believed that the world's population could potentially exceed the crop output- leading to needless suffering and starvation.” While this was very much true- it was far, far from the main reason. Now I know how Haber felt.

“Oh, wow.” She said, and I chuckled.

“Yeah! It’s a long process, but the short of it is that ammonia gets turned to fertilizer. My hope with this is that large surpluses of crops will go to the needy and the destitute- especially back home in The Confederacy.” She hummed in response.

“Really? How noble of you. I’m surprised the crown hasn’t recognized such a great achievement- I know medals of goodwill and friendship have been granted for less.”

“Well, I didn’t do it for a medal, you know? Princess Twilight actually did offer to grant me that medal- but I turned it down… Plus- it wasn’t just my invention. My good friend, Mind’s Eye, was also a key player in its creation. Ah, but that’s enough about that- I never really liked bragging about my accomplishments, you know?” That’s a fuckin’ lie.

“And she’s humble, too!” Rose said with a giggle. “But enough of that- tell me, what are your thoughts on the temperance movement… as well as the incident, if you’re willing to talk about it.”

“Well, like I said- I’m not doing it for the recognition, I’m doing it because it’s a cause in which I believe in. And the fact that some people would resort to violence as a means to revenge tells me that I’m doing the right thing. It’s a shame, really! That stallion was gravely injured because my hand was forced when I had to defend myself.” I did my best to exaggerate the sadness in my voice. “It’s a tragedy- if he never even had the opportunity to start drinking, he may very well still be alive.”

Rose looked at me somberly. “It must have been difficult to go through that.”

“Absolutely, it was! But if anything, it’s made me double down on my efforts to remove this poison from our society. If we keep up at this rate- half the nation will be in straitjackets while the other half is tying them up.”

“Let me tell you, Leona- you’re far more noble than any of those stuffy elites in Canterlot. You’re doing good work- you’re doing Celestia’s work. Keep fighting the good fight, sis!” She said, checking her pocket watch. “But there’s one more thing I wanted to address before we ran out of time.”

“Spill it.” I said.

“There have been… rumors. Hearsay, really- of you doing some… dodgy stuff.” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“What you talkin’ bout?”

“Well, for example- one mare told us that you hired a gang of griffons to destroy her shop to coerce her into paying you protection money. I’m not accusing you, of course- I just wanna hear your thoughts.” I scoffed at her, giving her a mock look of offense.

“That’s all lies and slander!” I said, “I would never do such a thing. You know what it is? It’s probably anti-temperance folks trying to drag my name through the mud. Let me tell you- I’ve been kicked out of establishments before because of my support for the movement.”

“That’s a darn shame!” She said, and I nodded.

“Yeah! Not only that- I’ve been refused service before, just because I’m a griffon! The fact that such discrimination still exists in this city is just heartbreaking.”

“I agree wholeheartedly, Leona. It’s a terrible shame that our nation, which was built on the principles of love and tolerance, still allows such hatred and ignorance to flourish.”

“Isn’t it? While I can’t solve all of society’s problems- I fully intend on stamping out the alcohol problem, you mark my words.” I gave her a smirk, and she smiled and nodded.

“Well, folks- I hate to say it, but that’s all the time I have today. Tune in next week, where we’ll be interviewing the Mayor on these issues. As always- thank you for tuning in! We appreciate ya’s!”

She pressed a button and the music resumed playing. She gave me a smile and held out a hoof, which I grabbed to shake.

“Thanks so much, Leona. It was wonderful having you here.” I just shrugged.

“Eh, don’t mention it. I’m always happy to spread the good word, ya know?”

And on that note, I said my goodbyes and parted ways. I think it went well, all things considered. Hopefully the mounting pressure will force the mayor to enact the new temperance policies sooner.

Sooner that happens, the sooner I become richer than Croesus.

I love it when a plan comes together. Even better- more backstory for Leona! And can you believe all those people trying to drag Leona's good name through the mud?

Also- if you couldn't tell by now, I'm a bit of a gun nerd and probably put more thought into how a fictional pony would utilize a firearm than most normal people have :P

On an unrelated note, I hope the early industrial 1920s vibe I'm going for is coming across well in this story :3

As always- thanks for reading! Likes and comments are appreciated greatly :3