“And don’t show your muzzle in here again!”

A mare was sent flying through the gates of Canterlot Castle by two sets of powerful hooves. The assailants were guards clad in golden armor, each wearing a frown on their face. She hit the cobblestone street and let out a yelp, watching as her meager luggage followed in suit. Said luggage consisted of a single suitcase and a sword that would have been best described as a metal rod. It had no sharp edge, no point, and nothing resembling the pride of a well-kept weapon.

In short, the sword resembled its owner.

The mare, whom we will now henceforth refer to as Short Fuse, was a rather ordinary looking mare, if you didn’t count her dark grey colored mane, which was uncut and unruly, just like her name suggested. It fell to her withers and pointed straight ahead from her forehead like a mane of a delinquent. Her coat was the color of queen blue, creating an illusion of a royal character. This could not have been farther from the truth. This mare was as royal as a national lottery was exciting.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Short Fuse groaned, wincing in pain. “What sort ‘a idiots get rid of their best guard, just like that!?”

At the moment we join this story, Short Fuse has just been kicked out of the Canterlot Royal Guard because of her violent temper, physical harm caused to both cadets as well as instructors, and explosive bouts of profanity. In order to keep this story accessible to younger readers, we shall not go into detail as to what exactly transpired, but let us simply conclude that the door of the castle’s mess hall needs to be replaced, Instructor Iron Mane has many years of extensive therapy and suspiciously long bills from a psychologist to look forward to, and instructor Whirlwind will, for the next two years, insist to anypony who listens that his mother was, and remains, a very classy mare.

“Good for nothin’ cowards. I’ll show ‘em, I’ll show ‘em all…” Short Fuse grumbled as she made her way into the city. “They’ll come runnin’ back ta me, I tell ya…”

As a young earth pony mare with nothing but a suitcase and a metal rod that could be barely called a sword, Short Fuse was fresh out of options. She had neither money nor a place to stay, since she had lived in the barracks of the castle during her service. Addressing all sorts of monetary problems blissfully ignored in Saturday Morning cartoons weighed heavily in Fuse’s mind.

“Ah, that reminds me. Emmermane starts at four. I hafta find a television, quick.”

Let me rectify: they didn’t weigh in her mind the slightest bit.

The winding streets of Canterlot spread ahead of Short Fuse, cutting into the sea of tall buildings that formed the greatest city of Equestria. White marble, grey stone, and blue glass created a tapestry of undeniable grace and beauty. Towers reaching for the skies stood side by side with small houses cozily snuggling with each other. Everywhere she looked, she saw ponies go about their daily business, each hurrying to get to the place where they were needed.

Amongst these ponies, Short Fuse, who simply wandered around aimlessly, stuck out like a sore thumb. And since ponies have no thumbs, that was saying something.

“All these stuck-up pompous city jackasses,” Short Fuse complained as she walked. “No matter where I go, they aim ta stop me.”

“Watch your language, girl! It’s not like this carriage broke down here because I wanted it to!”

Ignoring the donkey who had responded to her complaints, Short Fuse sighed and headed back to the main street. With the donkey’s carriage blocking the alley, she would have to go around the block if she wanted to get to the city centre. The mare deduced that if she wanted to get anything done, whether it was finding herself a new job or seeing this week’s episode of her favorite soap opera, it was the place to go. Not to mention that it was one of the safest places in Equestria, so she did not have to worry about getting into any more trouble.

“I’ll just hafta remember ta stay out ‘a there during season finales,” Short Fuse said to herself. “Otherwise all the destruction will be focused on Ponyville. How that town still has any ponies livin’ there is beyond me, but I’m glad it exists.”

Thinking thoughts that would have been best left not thought of, Short Fuse made her way down the street, eyeing for potential places to watch her show. If there were any hints of television or lodging possibilities with exploitable loopholes in the contract, Fuse was determined to spot them immediately. In the case there were promises of both, Fuse was even ready to sacrifice her treasure of a few measly coins in order to get that place in a vise grip.

… Or she would simply get the landlord’s nether regions in a vise grip, whichever was easier.

As Short Fuse walked around, pushing her way past the waxing and waning crowds of ponies, her eyes eventually fell upon a store that looked promising. Even in the soft morning light of the sun in the sky, the bright purple neon lights that kept flashing the word “Entertainment” told Fuse of the possibility of watching television. While the place otherwise looked a bit run-down, the small building at the unsuspicious corner of the street seemed quiet enough. Nopony would start picking a fight with her for switching the channel.

Of course, we know that a run-down place hidden in the corner of the street, with the word “Entertainment” flashing above its entrance, contains anything but a television. Short Fuse, however, was still quite inexperienced when it came to the ways of the world.

And sure enough, as Short Fuse approached the building, a stallion who had been lounging around the entrance of the building spotted her, and made his way towards her.

“Hello there, beauty. Looking to have a good time?” the stallion with a golden mane asked while flashing his best toothpaste commercial smile.

“Oh, the TV is just fine for me,” Short Fuse answered, completely disregarding the stallion’s attitude. “Though if ya can, get me some breakfast. Without Manehattan socialites ‘n romantic moments, thanks.”

“Don’t worry, Tiffany’s we ain’t,” the stallion answered before laughing awkwardly. “After all, we only serve drinks. Anything special you’d like? How about company? Got somepony specific on your mind? All the colts are free at the moment…”

“Mama always told me ta chew 20 times before I swallowed, an’ I can’t really do that with drinks, can I?” Short Fuse said with a frown. “If ya haven’t got anythin’ ta eat, just show me where the television is.”

“Just what sort of cooking Mama did you have? Just how fixated are you at that breakfast?” the stallion asked, growing more and more suspicious of the mare. “Now look, we’ve got plenty of entertainment here, no need for television. Here let me show you why we are the number one host club in Canterlot…”

To emphasize his words, the stallion put his front leg around Short Fuse’s shoulders, flashing yet another professional smile. With his golden mane and coffee-colored coat, he would have probably been able to sweep anypony off their hooves.

Unfortunately, the “customer” this time wasn’t just anypony.

“Don’t touch me ya piece of manure!” Short Fuse screamed from the top of her lungs while her hoof collided with the stallion’s head at what was probably hypersonic speed. “Anypony who gets in the way of my television ‘n me is gonna be destroyed, ya #¤&%@%!”

The stallion host was sent flying like a rocket, being only able to give one yell of surprise.

“Can’t touch this!?”

And thus, with the power of Short Fuse’s hoof behind it, the stallion’s face was quickly introduced to the wall of the host club behind him. That was only for a short while, though, as he just as quickly re-emerged on the other side, flying through the room in a manner not unlike a fighter jet. His violent trajectory finally made him end up embedded into the opposing wall, where he jutted out like a piece of art that was just ugly enough to end up in the collection of someone with too much money.

“W-what’s going on here!?” The group of dubious looking hosts shouted from inside the building.

With her hoof striking down on the floor with enough force to create a huge crack, Short Fuse stepped into the host club with her eyes darting here and there, looking for a television. However, what her eyes found were only stallions dressed up for their job, a counter full of liquors of various colors, and a few tables with even fewer customers, mostly in the form of a couple past-their-expiration-date mares.

“Oookay! The first one ta point me ta where the television is will get their muzzle smashed in! Ya have three seconds!” Short Fuse announced. “One, two…”

“What sort of prize is that!? What sort of Midnight Channel are you trying to make us watch!?” The leader host cried out. “The contents at least sound as black as your heart!”

The situation was getting rather volatile. A vein twitched in Short Fuse’s forehead, but the hosts weren’t exactly happy either. The one who seemed to be the leader, a stallion with purple coat and white mane, was confronting the mare while the rest of the hosts gathered at his flanks like an advance guard. With the idiocy of the mare in the blue corner, and the suspicious hostility of the hosts in the red corner, it seemed like a 12-round-slugfest was about to happen under the frightful eyes of the customers of the host club.

“Shaddap!” Fuse retorted, angrily pointing at the hosts. “I didn’t come here ta talk ta ya fancy pants! I just wanna watch television!”

“What’s wrong with talking to Fancypants? Fancypants will get really sad if you don’t talk to him! Heck, he’s nearly been forgotten in the official cartoon, so talk to Fancypants as much as you can. Your mom would say that too!” The host shouted.

“Nopony cares about Fancypants! Side characters can just go die in a recyclin’ bin for all I care!” Short Fuse answered, her face glowing with anger. “Just get me my television, right now!”

“There ain’t no television in here!” the same host shouted, adopting an angry expression like the rest of the hosts behind him. “If you just came here to wreck our place and spout nonsense, you’ve got another thing coming. We’re going to wreck you!”

“Aah, lame. That was seriously a lame line. Ya think ya can make yourselves believable bad guys with that?” Short Fuse asked, her eyebrows arching mockingly. “Or what, are ya gonna attack a single mare together?”

“You just destroyed part of our shop with your bare hooves! Like we’re going to play fair!” The host leader declared, and the other stallions around him nodded in unison. “We won’t be taking any chances with our revenge! Our formation shall be tighter than Yamanote Line!”

“Huh? That’s just odd,” Fuse said while frowning. “I just came here ta watch television, so why are ya gettin’ so uppity? It’s like you’re tryin’ ta cover for somethin’.”

For anypony else, such accusation would have been absurd. For Short Fuse, it was a typical interrogation.

“A-ah, no, no we aren’t,” the leader host said, his face freezing into an awkward expression. “Of course we aren’t. It’s not like we’re feeling threatened that your stupidity will expose our secret, a secret which we don’t have, of course. Why would we be thinking something like that, ahahahaha.”

The forced laugh echoed in the host club, but died rather quickly under the empty expressions of the customers and Short Fuse. Even without the input of this narrator, the group of hosts would have seemed suspicious.

“A~ah. Boss, you’re starting to spill the beans,” a sudden voice, muffled by the wall, called out to the leader host. “Have you checked your sacks lately? Judging from what I see, this is a clear case of cystitis. There’s medicine for that, you know?”

Now all the eyes were on the stallion with the golden mane, who had previously entered the club rather violently. It was not because they found what he was saying interesting; they simply found the sight of the pony, with his head completely buried into the wall, rather surreal.

“What are you talking about!?” the leader host demanded. “Just shut up, poster boy! You’re nothing but a washed up ex-host, unfit for the real work!”

“Sorry, boss, but that won’t cut it for me.” The golden-maned pony began to snicker. As he did, cracks started appearing in the wall. “If you have to call me something… at least call me a posterior booooooyyy!”

Accompanied by the yell of the stallion, the wall he was embedded in exploded outwards as the pressure put on it became too much. Pieces of concrete flew everywhere, thankfully missing all the ponies inside the building. As the stallion freed himself, rubble and dust was spread everywhere. But even amidst all the destruction, the ponies, both hosts and customers, had only one thought in their mind.

That’s even worse than a ‘poster boy’, you idioooot!

As the wall came crashing down, the stallion with the golden mane turned around, a grin spreading onto his face. His narrowed eyes were aimed straight at the host leader, and it soon became apparent why. As the wall behind the stallion crumbled down, it revealed another room right behind it; the room was not something anypony would have expected to see hidden inside a host club.

“T-that’s…” Short Fuse mumbled, her eyes widening. “That’s gotta be…”

Five large machines kept rumbling as pieces of worthless scrap metal were fed into them by conveyor belt. The large machines were full of tubes and turning wheels, and the amount of scrap metal fed into them was astonishing. The metal was pressed and molded into a round, circular shape. Finally, a spray of golden paint was applied, making the metal pieces shine, almost like real gold. Even for those ponies who had never seen these machines before, their job was clear: creating bits from scrap metal, thus making fake money at a fast rate.

In other words, it was a coining press.

“Just as I thought,” the golden maned stallion laughed. “There was no way a run-down host club like this could be making so much money, so I decided to investigate. Who would have thought that just by tearing down the props I could reveal such a goldmine.”

At this point it is probably best to mention that this grinning unicorn is named Fool’s Gold. As unbelievable as it sounds, he is supposed to be the hero of this story, despite being a good for nothing who spends most of his days in perpetual poverty and laziness. No brains, no skills, and no motivation to do anything, he is the type of protagonist most cartoons would kick out of the story at the planning stage. Alas, he is the only hero we could afford, so bear with him.

“Oi, Narrator! Just whose side are you on!?” Fool’s Gold shouted angrily.

Erm... let’s just continue, shall we?

“Well, enough about that,” Fool’s Gold chuckled menacingly and put his front hoof into his mane. “Now that I’ve busted your little illegal business, I don’t think it’s possible to get out of this without a fight. Therefore… I’ve prepared myself.”

With one swift move of his hoof, Fool’s Gold pulled something out of his mane and spun it around in the air before finally catching the handle with his mouth. The hosts around him took a step back, glaring at the foreign-looking weapon. It was rather exotic in design, nothing like the weapons seen in Equestria.

It was a jutte, a type of weapon used in Neighpon. It had a hilt like those of eastern swords, but no blade. Instead, it had an iron shaft and a hooklike guard protruding from the base. The hilt itself was covered with golden fabric, adorned with a strange flowerlike symbol. The shaft gleamed in the dim lighting of the club, as if it was trying to mimic a sword.

Brandishing the strange weapon between his teeth, Fool’s Gold sneered at the hosts.

“There may be lot of you idiots, but I think I can handle myself,” Gold said and chuckled. “After all, I’ve got my special fighting style…”

The air felt almost electrified. The hosts prepared for a brawl now that their illegal business had been exposed. Glares were thrown around like daggers, and even the tiniest spark could cause the situation to explode into an all-out fight.

However, Short Fuse was not troubled by this at all. Instead, her eyes were completely focused on Fool’s Gold as he confronted the hosts despite being vastly outnumbered.

Wow. I think I was wrong, Fuse mused. He acts like a thug, but has the eyes of a soldier. It’s like he’s the “honorable mobster type”. Almost like—

“That special fighting style being… running!”

Before any of the hosts could react to these absurd words, Fool’s Gold sprang into a gallop, and made a beeline straight out of the club. In just a span of two seconds, the stallion had fled from the fight, leaving behind nothing but an obscene, mocking laugh and a trail of dust.

Everypony else was left with their jaws open.

“Ahahahaha! Aren’t you just a bunch of nitwits!?” Fool’s Gold cackled as he charged down the streets of Canterlot’s downtown. “Like I’d stay in that rotten place! Dream on! I ain’t going to let myself be beaten up by a bunch of idiots like you! Didn’t Big Bird ever tell you to not trust adults!? Ahahaha!”

Unfortunately, Gold’s laugh was cut short, as another trail of dust started catching up to him. To his horror, he was soon muzzle to muzzle with Short Fuse, whose angry expression would have been enough to power the wave motion gun of Space Battleship Yamato. Letting out a scream that would not have been strange coming out of a mouth of a filly, Fool’s Gold tried to pick up his pace, but was unable to shake off Short Fuse.

“Oi, ya bastard! Just what do ya think you’re doin’, leavin’ me alone in there!?” Fuse growled. “I could’a been killed by those crooks, ya know!?”

“Not my problem! Musclebound idiots like you can go rot for all I care!” Gold retorted with a shout. “What I care about right now is my own hide! Just pray that those hosts didn’t start following you, and we’re safe.”

“Ah, I think it’s a bit late for that…”

Hearing the deadpan voice of Short Fuse, Fool’s Gold turned to look around over his shoulder. What he saw made him nearly trip in the middle of his run. A huge cloud of dust was chasing after them, and in it was an entire army of angry hosts, all wielding weapons and angry expressions. Gold admitted that it was the most surreal sight he had seen so far.

“Just what sort of Murder High School Host Club did you get after us!?” Gold shouted at Short Fuse. “Are you an idiot or something!?”

“You’re the idiot here, ya were the one ta reveal their dirty secrets!” Fuse shouted back. “So it’s your own fault they’re after ya!”

What transpired next was the oddest ‘parade’ that Canterlot had witnessed in some time. A huge mob of male hosts chased two ponies down the streets of Canterlot, moving closer and closer to the more populated areas. Because ponies are naturally curious creatures, the whole farce of a chase was soon joined by random citizens who wanted to see what the whole commotion was about. And so, what had started as a feud between hosts and two ponies, was turned into a citywide free-for-all run that got more chaotic with every passing minute.

“Their numbers are growing!” Gold shouted in panic, seeing the army of ponies after them. “Why are their numbers growing!?”

“I dunno,” Short Fuse grunted, and her eyes locked on to something in the distance. “But I know a way we can get rid of ‘em.”

Fool’s Gold followed Fuse’s line of sight, only to see a long and thick rope that suspended something black, white and heavy up in the air. In other words, it was the most clichéd scenario when it came to moving to a new apartment – that is, lifting the piano to the second floor.

Indeed. Short Fuse’s plan was to literally drop a piano on their chasers.

Putting two and two together, Gold was not surprised at all to see Fuse drawing her dull sword from its sheath, and aiming at the rope that suspended the piano mid-air. However, unlike Fuse, Gold had realized something very crucial about said piano.

“W-wait! Don’t cut the rope! The piano isn’t—“

The sword let out a whistling sound as it cut through the thick rope, despite the blade being absolutely dull. Gold’s pupils narrowed to pinpricks, and he cursed under his breath. Then, in a hasty move, he charged sideways, tackling Short Fuse to the side.

Just like that, the piano fell to the ground with a colossal crashing sound, right into the path that Fool’s Gold and Short Fuse had been running. In short, it would have dropped straight on top of them had they tried to continue running straight after cutting the rope.

“By Celestia, you’re too reckless,” Fool’s Gold sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. “At least nopony got hurt when that piano fell, you idiot.”

“Erm… I wouldn’t go celebratin’ yet, ya know?” Fuse said, gazing at the wreckage of the piano with a frozen expression.

Gold’s blood turned cold as he, like a clock, turned his gaze to the remnants of the piano. There, amongst the splinters of wood and destroyed metal, lay something that the stallion’s eyes did not want to recognize. There was something like a talon sticking out of the pile, reaching towards the skies. Something suspiciously censored and red seemed to seep from under the collapsed thing in the wreckage. Tufts of feathers had been scattered everywhere in a wide radius, creating a rather grim sight.

There was, simply put, a corpse of the small gryphon in the debris.

“W-what is this, Laurel and Hardy Murder!?” Fuse and Gold shouted in perfect unison.

In a total state of panic the two picked themselves up and ran up to the wreckage of the piano, looks of utter horror plastered on their faces.

“Why!? I thought this was supposed to be a feel-good comedy story!? Why is there an accidental homicide right in the first chapter!?” Gold shouted, trying to keep himself together. “Narrator, what’s going on!?”

Don’t ask me, I’m just narrating your inane adventures. Solve your own problems. Or wait for the late night forensic drama. I’m sure they’ll cover this case with pleasure for you.

“Oi, this is bad! Even the narration is against us!” Gold shouted, turning to Fuse. “What are we going to do!? That mob will catch up to us soon, too! And we seem like two total murderers here!”

“L-l-l-l-l-let’s not panic. Gotta stay calm,” Fuse said, sweating profusely. Her eyes darted everywhere, trying to find some sort of salvation. “That’s right! A doctor. We gotta find a doctor right now!”

Fool’s Gold clapped his hooves together, realizing what Short Fuse meant.

“Ooh, that’s right! We just need a doctor, and everything will be alright!” He said, looking around him. “Now, just help me find a blue police phone box and convince the pony living there that we need to go ten minutes back in time to stop—“

Gold’s ramblings were interrupted by a punch from Fuse.

“Calm down! We need ta think rationally now, don’t succumb ta delusions!” She said, grabbing the stallion by the shoulders. “I’ve got it. The best thing ta do here, in this situation, is ta…”

With a swift move, the body of the small gryphon was scooped up from the ground, thrown into the back of Short Fuse and secured with the remnants of the rope that had held the piano.

“… Get rid ’a the evidence!”

The two ponies, with the gryphon dangling from the back of Short Fuse, once again sped down the streets, galloping for their lives.

Eight hooves hit the cobblestone streets hard as the pair raced towards the city centre, hoping that they could somehow find a way to save their hides from the quickly approaching mob of hosts and various curious citizens. Buildings zoomed by as they tried to take a zig-zagging route through the many streets of Canterlot, in hopes of losing their pursuers. Unfortunately, the mob was unrelenting, and gained ground every second.

After yet another sharp turn, Fool’s Gold suddenly perked up, his eyes snapping forward in realization. Moving awkwardly, he turned to look at Short Fuse, sweating bullets as he did.

“Erm, there’s one thing I thought I should mention now,” Gold said, giving her a forced smile. “You remember those hosts chasing us?”

“How could I forget?” Short Fuse grunted. “It’s not like they’re tryin’ ta lynch us at this very moment.”

“Well, there was just something I forgot about them…” Fool’s Gold said. “… There were pegasi in that group.”

“Eh?”

As if summoned by the stallion’s words, there was suddenly the sound of angry shouts from straight above the two. The ponies stared at the sky in horror, seeing two male pegasi swooping down from the blue yonder, wearing tacky clothes that immediately revealed that they were part of the hosts. Brandishing swords in their hooves, they grinned menacingly as they approached the ponies.

“Armed pegasi hosts?” Short Fuse growled at the sight. “Just what sort ‘a seedy underbelly does Canterlot have!?”

“It’s like the underbelly of a stepfather. You know, the type that really doesn’t bother you until you go to a public spa with him, and realize just how rotten said underbelly is,” Gold answered, gulping hard at the sight of the pegasi.

“Just what sort ‘a sick underbelly is that!? Apologize ta stepfathers everywhere right now!” Fuse shouted in retort.

She might have meant to say more, but just at that moment, the pegasi swept in and closed the distance between them, their swords gleaming.

“You should have stayed out of our business, little ponies!” the other pegasus shouted. “Now you’ll pay the price! Prepare to die!”

Fool’s Gold screamed like a little filly as the host swung his sword. A clashing sound reverberated through the streets, and sparks scattered in the air. Short Fuse felt something squirm on her back, which added to the growing confusion. For a moment, the ponies could see and hear nothing but wild flailing and chaotic sounds. Nopony had any idea what was going on, as the supposed fight turned into a mess of limbs and pastel-colored fur.

The one to bring order to that situation was a completely new voice.

“… Are you trying to cut into my naptime?”

To everypony’s growing confusion, the feathered deadweight at Fuse’s back had suddenly moved, and was now talking. The small gryphon had extended her talon to catch the striking blade, completely stopping the attack in its tracks. Her red feathers fluttered in the wind, and a pair of yellow eyes were aimed straight at the pegasus who had attacked. It would have been menacing had the gryphon not looked like she was about to nod off at any second.

“… You’re not dead?” Fool’s Gold asked in confusion. The whole chase seemed to have come to an awkward stop for the moment. “H-how? We saw your blood and everything!?”

“My dad. He was a hippogriff. Means I’m strong. Kinda,” the gryphon spoke. “… and that red. It was my lunch. Lots of ketchup. Now, it’s gone.”

The mere mention of her destroyed lunch seemed to put the gryphon into a state of depression.

“W-what’s with this telegram speak?” Short Fuse asked, frowning confusedly at the gryphon on her back. “Just what sort ‘a weirdo did we pick up?”

Nopony answered her. Everypony was just as flabbergasted as she was. It was as if every one of them had received a simultaneous sucker punch in a form of a weird gryphon fledgling: one that seemed to be in a perpetual state of drowsiness, if anything could be judged by her half-closed eyes.

“Anyways. You were about to hit them. The two who saved me. I was hit by an out-of-bounds piano,” The gryphon said, looking at the two pegasi with something akin to a frown. “I’m Ambra. Of hippogriff lineage. I won’t let anypony hurt my saviors. Got that?”

At this point, both Short Fuse and Fool’s Gold were shaking like leaves in autumn. After all, if it was revealed that they were the ones who had dropped the piano in the first place, the situation would make a magnificent U-turn into awkward and nasty. The gryphon known as Ambra didn’t seem to be type to understand mistakes.

It should be noted at this point that Ambra is the third of the main characters of this story. A lazy to the bones gryphon who has been drifting from job to job for quite a while now. She is the enemy of narrators everywhere, thanks to the fact that characters like her never show very many emotions.

“—Problem?” Ambra asked, glaring at the sky.

L-Let’s focus back on the story. This narrator wants to keep his skin intact.

“In any case, you tried to hurt them,” Ambra murmured and switched her gaze back to the pegasi. “That means you need punishment. Here.”

Switching her position a little, Ambra brought forth a little mailbag that she had been carrying on a strap that went over her shoulder. She stuck her talon inside, and started rummaging through the contents, before finally fishing out a sizeable package. The brown paper on the package seemed rather dull, and there was nothing special about it. Still, the gryphon lazily threw the thing at the pegasi, who caught it while wearing confused expressions.

“That package was sent to the Canterlot Castle,” Ambra explained. “Today is Tuesday. Which means it must be ticking. It’s yours now.”

The two pegasi hosts looked at the package for a moment, before bursting into mocking laughter.

“What, are you saying this is a bomb? Nice try, kid!” one of the pegasi laughed and threw the package away. It landed far behind them, almost hitting a trash can. “As if in this modern world somepony would send mail bombs to Prin—“

The rest of the pegasus’ words were cut off by a huge explosion that shook the whole street.

While the faces of the ponies turned into those of shock and horror, Ambra seemed to remain calm. Finding a piece of steak from her lunch in her crest of feathers, she idly munched on the destroyed food while the ponies tried to come into grips with the fact that all this time, they had been in the vicinity of a bomb that could have blown them straight into the sky.

Out of the flabbergasted ponies, Fool’s Gold was the first one to speak.

“Oiiii! Why was there really a bomb there!? What sort of Bomberman are you supposed to be!?” he shouted at Ambra. “Unabomber!? Are you the Unabomber!?”

“No,” Ambra calmly retorted. “My friends call me Unobomber.”

“That just means you suck at card games, idiot!”

As Gold tried to make some sense out of the absurd situation, Short Fuse realized something. While they been frozen for some moments due to the bomb exploding near them, the pegasi who had been chasing them were now nowhere to be seen. There were only two vaguely pony-shaped figures in the distant sky, escaping from the scene as fast as they could.

“Hm. Looks like we don’t have ta worry about ‘em,” Fuse said and chuckled. “Ya two actually managed ta drive ‘em off. Not bad.”

“Not bad? Do I need to remind you we’ve got a whole mob still after us?” Fool’s Gold asked, frowning at the mare. “We need a place to hide, quick!”

“A warehouse. Over there,” Ambra suddenly said, and pointed at a building close by. “We can hide there.”

The ponies quickly saw what the gryphon had meant, and they raced towards the large building made out of white stone. It seemed unassuming enough, hidden in the plain sight. Hiding in a place that did not differ from its surroundings at all was the best choice they had at that moment. Thus, both Fool’s Gold and Short Fuse broke the 400 meter sprint record as they raced to the entrance of the warehouse. When they got there, they saw that the place had been locked up tighter than Russell Crowe’s when singing.

It was nothing a good kick couldn’t solve, however.

Only after they had made it to the darkness inside the building did the ponies calm down. Fuse started untying the ropes that held Ambra at her back while Gold quickly closed the doors to not leave marks of their presence.

“So, ya were Ambra, huh?” Short Fuse asked as she helped the gryphon fledgling down from her back. “I’m Short Fuse, a former Royal Guard. Nice ta meet ya, Ambra.”

“Former Royal Guard? Why am I not surprised?” Fool’s Gold asked with a deadpan expression, having finished his work with the doors. “What did you do? Beat your instructors for taping over the VHS of your favorite soap opera? Shake lunch money out of Guard Whimper, you delinquent?”

“As if! An’ who’s Guard Whimper!? An’ more than that, nopony uses VHS anymore!” Short Fuse shouted in anger. “It was a DVD, DVD! An’ what he recorded there was a nature documentary, about elephants! The regular Colonel Hathi type!”

“Eh, that’s the part you get angry about!?” Gold retorted in confusion.

There was an awkward moment as the yells of the two echoed in the dark warehouse. After taking few seconds to calm down, the two finally relaxed. Fool’s Gold, scratching the back of his head, put away the jutte he had been carrying, hiding it in his mane. Giving a rather awkward expression, Fool’s Gold finally offered his hoof to Short Fuse.

“Enough about that. Anyways, I’m Fool’s Gold. The former number one host of Manehattan, currently working as a freelancer,” he said, introducing himself. “I had been hired to look for the source of the strange money going around Canterlot, and I tracked it down to that rundown host club. Thanks to you, I finally found where they had hidden their illegal business.”

Short Fuse looked at the extended hoof for one confused moment, before finally taking it and shaking it. She flashed a rare smile, nodding to the stallion.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m just doin’ what I do best,” Fuse answered.

“What’s that? Practicing domestic violence on innocent ponies?” Fool’s Gold asked, having clearly not forgotten what had happened when they first met.

“Nooow, why would ya say somethin’ like that?” Short Fuse asked with a dangerously sweet smile, her hoof suddenly putting crushing pressure on Gold’s hoof. “Are ya tryin’ ta imply somethin’ unpleasant?”

“N-no, I’m not, no ma’am.”

“Hey, you two,” Ambra spoke up. “Problem. Big one.”

“Huh, what problem?” Gold asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, we’re well hidden in this warehouse. It’s not like they will find us here.”

“They don’t have to,” Ambra said with a deadpan expression, pointing to the other end of the warehouse. “It’s theirs.”

A surprised “Huh?” was the sound that came out of the mouths of the ponies.

Suddenly, bright lights flashed on all around the ceiling. The group was momentarily blinded by the sudden increase in lighting, coming from all sides. As their eyes started to adjust, they began to see what was truly around them. Rows upon rows of boxes were stacked up against the walls, throwing imposing shadows around the warehouse, thanks to the lights. There were also lots of open boxes scattered around, their contents shining with golden color as light was reflected from them. The smells of metal, oil and various paint fumes hung in the air, becoming a combination the group recognized too late.

What made the group of two ponies and one gryphon sweat in a horror of realization was the gigantic machine right in the middle of the warehouse. Huge tubes ran across its surface, while a ridiculously large conveyor belt fed wave after wave of scrap metal into its depths. The machine roared once and came to life. What followed was a wave of heat from the furnace inside it, the sound of the metal press that came afterwards, and clouds of golden color finished the job.

“… It might be foolish to hope that the thing I see is a real-life Anywhere Door,” Gold asked slowly while staring at the piece of machinery.

“The only Doraemon who would build somethin’ like that would have been created by Skynet,” Fuse answered. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“’Nobi Nobita. Come with me if you want to live’? Sounds good?” Ambra asked, tilting her head.

“No, it sounds horrifying,” Fool’s Gold concluded.

“Have you had quite enough? Your inane banter is starting to get boring,” a voice shouted from the edges of the warehouse. The group turned to face this new speaker. “To be honest, this whole incident you’ve created has been nothing but a bore.”

There, behind the gigantic machine, stood a group of ponies that could be only described with one word: crooks. While the majority of ponies, what with their scars, their suits, and their slicked back manes, looked just like normal thugs, their leader seemed different. He was an older stallion with a brown mane that had already started to turn gray, a receding maneline, and even his fancy pinstripe suit could not cover the fact that he had gathered quite the stomach during his years. His tiny eyes were locked on the group, and a menacing smile appeared on his face.

“To think you were fools enough to waltz right into our headquarters! How unlucky for you!” the fat stallion laughed. “My little ponies will take care of you, right here and now. Maybe in tomorrow’s news we will see a story about two ponies and a gryphon found sleeping with the fishes.”

“Scandal story?” Ambra asked, tilting her head.

“No! It means I’m going to kill you, you birdbrain!” the leader shouted. “I am, after all, Money Talks: the most famous crime lord in Canterlot.”

“Never heard of you,” Fool’s Gold immediately said.

“Me neither,” Fuse added. Right after her, Ambra nodded.

“Who?”

“By Celestia you’re an annoying bunch of ponies!” Money Talks said, grinding his teeth together. “But no matter! Once you’ve been dealt with, I can use this machine here to throw the economy of Equestria into total chaos. Then I can appear as a savior to the ponies of this kingdom, becoming a hero to everyone! I’ll be lorded, I’ll be lavished with praise, I’ll be surrounded by beautiful mares! And it’s all thanks to this piece of art right here: The Monetary Miracle~! The fastest counterfeiting machine there is!”

“Uah, he actually named it just like in Doraemon,” Short Fuse said, taking a step back. “Just what sort ‘a crime lord uses a children’s cartoon as a basis for his evil plans?”

“I didn’t use it as a basis for anything! I just like the series, that’s all!” Money Talks shouted. He took a few quick breaths, calming himself down, before looking at the thugs at his side. “Alright, this has gone on quite long enough. It’s time we got rid of these idiots.”

“An’ how are ya goin’ ta do that? Do ya really think we’ll go down without a fight?” Fuse growled, drawing her sword. “Ya bastard, your thugs are goin’ down.”

“Hah! As if!” Money Talks said and raised his eyebrows mockingly. “There is a small army of us here! No matter how powerful you are, you’re vastly outnumbered. And that’s why… huh? Wait. Where’s that golden-maned idiot?”

Both Short Fuse and Ambra looked around them, in confusion. Just like them, the thugs started scanning the warehouse for any signs of Fool’s Gold. However, it seemed like the stallion had completely disappeared from the place. The doors had not been opened, so he had not escaped outside. For one short-lived moment, everypony was completely focused on looking for the stallion that they forgot about something else in the room.

At least until they heard the sound of the flint wheel of a lighter.

Turning their gazes towards the source of the sound, the ponies ended up staring at the top of the huge machine in the center of the room. There, they saw the familiar golden-maned stallion lighting a cigarette and bringing it to his lips. The unicorn used his telekinesis to put away the gold colored lighter, hiding in it his mane. With his right hoof, he was grasping his jutte, twirling it around like it was a toy.

Realizing that all of the attention was on him now, Fool’s Gold grinned down at Money Talks and his thugs.

“You were taking your sweet time, so I thought I’d spice things up a bit, Doraemoney,” Gold said and snickered. Taking a drag off his cigarette, he blew a cloud of smoke in the air. “You said this was the greatest money counterfeiting machine in all of Equestria, right? Capable of producing fake bits at amazing speeds, right?”

“Of course!” Money Talks answered, frowning in anger. “It was created by me, after all! So get down here right now! I don’t want you breaking anything!”

“Now, now, don’t get your stomach upset because of me,” Fool’s Gold laughed, eyeing the machine under him.

While neither Short Fuse nor Ambra had any idea what the many levers, pipes, wheels and buttons on top of the machine did, it seemed that Gold knew what he was looking for.

“You see, I’m an aspiring business pony myself, and I’ve always wanted to start an economic boom,” Gold said, bringing forth his jutte, and aiming at a very specific part of the machine. “Not only that, but the words ‘stock market crash’ have this great ring to them, don’t they?”

At this point, it started to dawn upon Money Talks just what Fool’s Gold was about to do. The crime lord started sweating bullets, and his face was filled with panic. Waving his hooves, he tried to calm the stallion on the top of the machine down.

“No! No, no, no, no! Just calm down, calm down!” Money Talks shouted. “You don’t want to do that! You really don’t! If you do that, you’ll get yourself killed too, you know! So just step down from there. We can solve this like civilized ponies, right? Right!?”

What he got as an answer was the most ridiculous grin that the cigarette-smoking stallion could produce.

“Noooope!” Fool’s Gold laughed. “You see, I’m an excellent surfer. And more than that… you’re threatening the ponies of Canterlot with your twisted plans. No, not even that. You’re threatening those two who have nothing to do with this whole business.”

Fool’s Gold suddenly pointed at Short Fuse and Ambra. His eyes narrowed in anger as he gazed down at Money Talks.

“I don’t know how you scum of Canterlot do things around here, but let me tell you this!” Fool’s Gold shouted, and brought his jutte up high, ready to strike it down. “Us scum of Manehattan have honor!”

Accompanied by his yell, Gold brought his jutte down in a magnificent arc, striking straight into the controls of the gigantic money counterfeiting machine. The machine started crackling with electricity, short explosions happening everywhere. The conveyor belt began speeding up, and more and more of scrap metal was fed inside. Producing more and more fake bits, the inner chambers of the machine started swelling up like a balloon as the metal gave up under the pressure.

It was at that moment that Short Fuse realized something. When she had first seen Fool’s Gold, she had thought him to be more than a thug, but less than a soldier: something like a honorable mobster, or perhaps a vigilante. But now she started realizing that the stallion wasn’t any of those things. No, he was something far worse, something far better, and something far more dangerous to the evildoers around him. After all, he was…

“… A complete idiot,” Short Fuse whispered, and grinned.

With a whistling sound like that of a teapot, the machine announced that the pressure had become too much. Under the horrified gazes of Money Talks and his thugs, it exploded outwards with fury, spreading fake bits everywhere. Tidal waves of money spread out to all directions, filling the whole warehouse to the brim in the matter of seconds. Before the force of these metallic waves, the mobsters could not do anything but to scream in horror as they were swept away by the tides of currency and smashed against the walls of the warehouse.

Unfortunately, the amount of fake bits was too much for even the warehouse. With a thunderous sound, the warehouse exploded under the pressure, adding to the golden waves the bits that had already been prepared and packed into the crates.

In the span of few seconds, wave after wave of golden coins burst out of the warehouse, filling the nearby streets.

“Fuse! Ambra! Hold on tight!”

A shout from above caught the attention of Short Fuse and Ambra, who themselves were struggling to stay above the waves. Looking up, they saw something that made their jaws drop in amazement. Using one of the metal plates that had separated from the machine during the explosion, Fool’s Gold rode the tides of currency like a true surfer, rushing to rescue the two.

“Catch on!” Gold shouted, balancing himself with only his hind legs, and extending his free hooves to the two.

Sweeping past the two, the stallion caught ahold of the mare and the gryphon, pulling them above the waves. With a wild grin on his face, he then proceeded to surf out of the destroyed building and into the streets. The sunlight greeted them like an old friend, making the metallic waves under them sparkle like real gold. He took some speed by riding the side of the wave, before shooting up from the crest of golden tide, gaining amazing hang time.

“Hah! You’re not half bad, fool!” Short Fuse laughed. Ambra, hanging on to Gold’s other hoof, nodded.

“Regular Duke Kahanamoku,” the gryphon said.

“Heh. Don’t go celebrating just yet,” Fool’s Gold said. “There’s still one problem left.”

“Hmh? What’s that?” Short Fuse asked.

After a while of silence as they flew through the air, Fool’s Gold gave the two an awkward smile, a hint of apology shining on his face.

“… I have no idea how I’m holding on to you two with just my hooves.”

There was a great, long moment of silence. It was finally broken as the physics caught up to the trio, and both Short Fuse and Ambra fell down into the wave of fake bits, leaving Gold gliding through the air alone.

“You idioooooot!”

Short Fuse’s yell echoed in the streets, before the mare was swallowed up by the bits.

“I’m telling you, officer. It wasn’t my fault. I was simply stopping these crooks. I should be given a medal or something!”

“Tell that to the ponies whose house that tsunami of fake bits destroyed. There’s nopony to back your crazy tale, you know?”

Under the orange light of the descending sun, two figures could be seen arguing near the destroyed warehouse. One was Fool’s Gold, sucking on his cigarette in annoyance. The other was an equally-annoyed police officer, clearly itching to put cuffs on the golden-maned stallion and being done with the crazy case.

Nearby, the other officers were leading the arrested crooks, along with Money Talks, into an armored carriage. Apparently there had been enough evidence to prove that they had been behind everything, and thus justice had been served. That only left Fool’s Gold, who was blamed for the massive amounts of property damage that had been caused to the residential district of Canterlot.

Watching this chaotic epilogue to a crazy day from the sidelines were Short Fuse and Ambra. The pony and the gryphon were sitting on a big piece of debris that had fallen from a destroyed house. The light of the sun dyed them both orange, just like everything else it touched. The two of them looked roughed up, but just like the thugs, they had survived the tidal wave of fake bits, no thanks to Fool’s Gold.

“Ya know… This ain’t what I planned on doin’ today, after I was kicked out ‘a the Guard,” Short Fuse finally said, breaking the silence between the two. “I even missed the rerun of Emmermane. Just ‘cuz I got dragged along by that that crazy stallion, endin’ up in this whole mess. The only good thing is that we ain’t blamed for this.”

“Same. Didn’t want this,” Ambra answered, in her usual minimalistic style. “I was a letter carrier. Today, last chance. If I didn’t handle delivery good, they’d fire me. And they did. I didn’t deliver a single letter.”

“So, you’re in the same boat as me, huh?” Fuse asked, and sighed. “Sheez… all ‘cuz ‘a one idiotic stallion. Just how much trouble did he intend ta cause?”

To the mare’s surprise, Ambra suddenly chuckled a bit. It was a quiet, almost unnoticeable sound, but it definitely happened.

“I don’t mind,” the gryphon said, and flashed a smile. “It was fun. Really fun. Wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Ya know…” Short Fuse started, scratching the back of her head, before finally giving a wide, idiotic grin that echoed that which Fool’s Gold had shown earlier. “I feel the same way. Today was better than any day in the Guard. I’ve never had ‘dis much fun before.”

In a silent agreement, the two of them stood up and headed forward. They slowly walked over to the spot where the police carriage had been parked. Before said carriage, Fool’s Gold and the male officer were still arguing, though it started to look like the golden-maned stallion had no way out of this trouble. Chuckling a bit, Short Fuse snuck behind Gold, before putting her front leg around his shoulder, and smiling at the officer.

“Ah, don’t worry, officer,” Fuse said. “This guy is tellin’ the truth. He was just protectin’ the city, that’s all. He ain’t responsible for the damage that was caused.”

“—Mm. She’s right.” Ambra nodded. “We’re witnesses.”

“Is that so?” the officer asked, scratching his chin with his hoof. “Well, if you’re really vouching for his innocence, I guess I’ll believe it. But really, next time, stay out of trouble like this. If we see you involved in an incident with massive property damage again, you’ll be thrown in jail.”

“U-understood, officer,” Fool’s Gold answered, sweating bullets. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid.”

And with that, the officer heaved a sigh and left the trio. They watched him make his way to the carriage, where he started discussing with the other police officers about what to do with the arrested thugs. From the sound of it, it looked like they would not be even given a trial, given all of the evidence against them.

It was a moment of silence – a breather for the trio that had been through a lot that day. They could finally relax and not worry about what had transpired.

It was Short Fuse who finally broke that silence.

“Hah. Ya really think ya won’t be doin’ anythin’ stupid in the future?” she asked from Fool’s Gold. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Hey, it’s not like I look for trouble because I want to,” Gold answered, frowning at the mare. “I’m just trying to get by in the world, and make some money while I’m at it.”

“Oh, that reminds me: I’m unemployed at the moment,” Fuse said, before raising her eyebrows meaningfully at Ambra.

“Me too. I was fired,” Ambra said, looking far too happy to be saying those words.

“S-so? What does that have to do with me?” Gold asked, his eyes narrowing as the aim of the two began to dawn upon him.

“So, we were thinkin’… You’re a freelancer, right?” Fuse asked, grinning. “Do ya think ya have free spots in your team?”

There was a moment of silence that stretched for over ten seconds. Finally, heaving a big sigh, Fool’s Gold hung his head in defeat. Bracing himself, he lifted his head, giving one last look at the destroyed warehouse before looking back at the mare and the gryphon.

Finally, he returned the grin that Short Fuse had shown him.

“With your credentials? You bet.”

And so, under the setting sun, in the residential district of Canterlot, the unlikeliest of teams had been born. One was a former host down on his luck, another a former guard with anger management problems, and the third was a former letter carrier with the motivation of a sloth. All of them were unemployed, and all were in need of money.

And all idiots in one way or another.

So it is with these thoughts and these words that our first chapter ends. Not with heroic fanfare or tragic death, but with the realization that no matter how weird life gets, you can bet that you will find kindred spirits in the midst of all that chaos.

Then, till the next time.

This narrator is in a need of a drink.

In the seats of an otherwise empty movie theater, two mares stared at silver-screen. The story had just ended, and the whole place was now completely dark, with the exception of the single light in the corner where the “EXIT” sign was displayed. Giving an exaggerated sigh, the Maya Blue mare on the left stuck her hoof into the popcorn she had brought with her, before throwing some into her mouth. Her friend, a mare with ivory coat and pink mane mimicked her, and soon the both of them were munching on popcorn, their cheeks full.

“Well, just look at that,” Minuette said and pointed at the screen. “Seems like they really went far with the whole allusion to economic boom.”

“Fitting for something that was made in hopes of a few quick bits,” Twinkleshine agreed. “Shameful, shameful I say!”

“That’s what I keep telling you,” Minuette said, nodding vigorously. “Fanfiction nowadays is nothing but big words, violence, double entendre and poor jokes, topped with loud bangs, booms and crashes.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Twinkleshine said and smiled deviously. “I kinda like those crashes, Minuette. Do you know which one was my favorite?”

“Well?”

“The crash of Hasbro’s stock after this story was found by the public.”

The two mares bumped their hooves together and burst into bellowing laughter which echoed in the empty movie theater.

“Do-ho-ho-ho-hoh!”