The moonlight illuminates the path to the front door of your humble abode. Its presence alone welcomes you as you lug your travel gear on your back. The train trip back felt longer than when you had went to Dodge Junction and, as usual, you didn’t get a wink of sleep either. That was okay, though: there was a warm, comfy bed waiting inside for you.

The tumblers click as you turn the key in the lock, echoing out into the quiet streets. Not a single soul aside from yourself was out at this time in this area. Entering the house, you immediately throw all your bags and goods on the foyer floor and walk into the kitchen. Flicking the switch, you give your eyes a second to adjust as the blinding light attacks them. Everything was how you left it; not a hair out of place. Digging into the freezer, you grab the bottle of vodka, pop off the cap, and take a swig.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t drink this unless it was for a celebration, but to be blunt, living to see another day in this line of work was a good enough reason. Closing the bottle, you place it back in the freezer and turn around. A small pile of letters lay on your table, waiting for you to open them. It was a good idea to have Zecora watch the place while you were gone, not that you really needed her to. Ponyville isn’t exactly prone to many burglaries. Maybe the occasional dragon or evil spirit, but not burglary, unless you counted Lucy.

Looking over the letters, you begin tossing the junk mail aside, trying your best to find anything that was actually important. One, however, does. Written in an almost ornate writing is your name, alongside what seems like a lipstick stained kiss mark. Opening the letter, you begin reading it as a cherry scent washes through your nostrils.

Dearest Anonymous,

I apologize for not telling you about the true intention of that package, but I needed a backup in case you didn’t capture the Flim Flam Brothers. I couldn’t be too sure, so I asked Bruce for assistance as well. I was amazed when I caught news that you had caught the two before Bruce did. I’ll have you know that I called Bruce off the job and he will no longer be going after the two brothers. Think of his hiring as a boost to help you catch the scoundrels.

Don’t forget to drop by if you’re ever in town again. I would love if you swung by and stayed for the night once more. ♥


Sincerely,
Cherry “Pit” Jubilee

Crumpling up the letter in your hand, you toss it in the trash. Who the hell does she think she is? “Boost to help you,” your ass. She was just upset that you beat Bruce to them. Digging through the rest of you mail, you find nothing but junk like, “Enhance your stallionhood!” or “Neigherian prince” scams in the pile. Leaving the kitchen, you shut the light off and head straight for your bed. The single-floor home was small, but cozy. It was also great for those nights when you couldn’t be bothered with stairs after drinking enough to kill a full grown stallion. Sprawling out on top of the bed, you place your head on the pillow and fall asleep.

A heavy knocking booms throughout the house, cutting you off from your slumber. Opening your weary eyes, you look around the dimly lit room, trying to figure out what time it is. The sun barely peeks over the mountain tops, so it had to be no later than five in the morning.

“I’m coming,” you grunt, leaving the comfort of your bed to inspect the reason for this rude awakening. As if it was really a question; there was only one being who would be up this early to bother you. Swinging open the door, you look down at the zebra who is impatiently tapping her hoof on the ground.

“I apologize for not giving you a warning, but I just couldn’t wait for later this morning.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shake your head and let out a disgruntled sigh before moving over to allow her in. Stretching your arms and legs, you close the door behind her as she makes her way into the kitchen. It was way too early in the morning for this.

“I’m gonna brew up some coffee. You want anything?” you ask as you enter the room. She gives a subtle nod and takes a seat at your table.

“If you don’t mind, a cup of tea. I find it will be quite fine just for me.” After filling the kettle with water, you place it on the stove and turn on the flame.

“So, what brings you to this part of town?” you joke, taking a sip of your coffee. Zecora gives you a deadpan look as she eyes you from head to toe.

“You know why, the question is simply so: How exactly did your bounty go?” Placing your cup down on the counter, you tell her of your little adventure, making sure to leave out the details about what had happened between you and Cherry. Zecora merely nods as you continue on and pour her a cup of tea, telling her about Bruce and the two brothers.

“It seems your training has done well for you, but there’s much more training for you to do.” Giving her a small shrug, you nod your head in agreement.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind learning a bit more. Oh! I almost forgot.” You walk back into the main foyer and dig through your duffle bag to grab your slingshot. Zecora looks at it and giggles.

“You would spend money on such a simple, mindless toy? Oh, Anonymous, you may be grown, but you have the heart of a small boy.” You give her a scowl place it on the table.

“It may be a toy to you, but this saved my ass a couple of times already.” Zecora lets out a huff, staring deeply at the device. Her eyes widen a bit as if an idea just popped in head.

“With your help, and a bit of purple oak, we can make pellets out of poison joke,” she mutters, pulling back on the elastic with her hoof. Downing the rest of your coffee, you glance at her with a furrowed brow.

“And what will that do exactly?” you question. She stands up and makes her way out of the kitchen.

“Meet me at my home around two. We will discuss there what it will do.” She takes her leave as you roll your eyes and pick up the slingshot. Poison joke was something that you shouldn’t play with; Twilight told you stories of what it did to ponies. It raised an interesting question, however: What would it do to humans? To be honest, that question was to go unanswered. There was no way you would even consider testing it out.

But, right now, that didn’t matter. All that mattered to you as you drag your heavy feet around the house is getting back to bed. Entering the room, you instantly plop down onto the mattress and pass out.

Opening your eyes, you wake up for the second time today. With a quick stretch of the joints, you rise from your bed and look at the clock. It was already one in the afternoon. Grabbing a fresh batch of clothes, you head to the bathroom to perform your usual morning rituals, even if it was the afternoon. After a quick shower and shave, you get dressed and grab your weapons. You cover your eyes as you open the front door and head out towards the Everfree Forest. No matter what training or experience you’ve been through, this place still creeped you out. The sounds were foreign and sinister sounding, sending a shiver down your spine. The damp soil beneath your feet left an unsettling, cautious feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to sink at any time. Zecora had told you to always stick to the path and you would be fine, but that still didn’t make you feel any better.

Once you reach the clearing, you look around. Nothing has really changed since your last visit. The little hut emits smoke profusely from its small chimney, which was rather strange. Sure, Zecora usually had something brewing, but it never smoked like that before. Knocking on the door, you wait as the usual clip clopping of hooves makes its way towards the door. Zecora looks up at you from the doorway, sporting a saddlebag and her staff.

“It’s about time; you’re late. Hurry, we mustn't hesitate,” she says with a scowl. She slams the door shut and begins making her way into the forest. Following right behind, you push through the branches and brush. Her height was rather convenient for this: all of the obstacles were right above her head. As you continue your venture into the forest, your line of sight is dimmed by the dark forest. The trees and vegetation were getting taller the further you walked in. Something brings you to halt as you enter another small clearing. Zecora put a hoof to her muzzle, giving you a very low, “Shh!” sound.

“Why are we stopping?” you whisper, kneeling down to her level. She points to the center of the clearing. A single, large tree stands in the middle, bearing a liquorice-like coloring, covered from top to bottom in vines and moss. She digs into her bag and gives you a knife, sharpened and ready to go.

“We must be careful. That tree’s bark is what we need. But those vines are made to mislead,” she murmurs. “You must get the bark. I will deal with the vine. If need be, you might have to jump in at any time.”

Giving her a nod, you glance at the vines cautiously. What could these things possibly do? Zecora slowly approaches the tree, making sure only to step on the soft ground to muffle her hoofsteps. Taking small steps, you follow her lead and stand before the towering plant.

“Slowly, scrape the bark off the side. After we have it, we must run, not stride,” she mutters in a barely audible tone. Zecora pulls out a tiny jar from her saddlebag and gives it to you before standing up on her back hooves, staff ready. Placing the knife against the tree’s side, you begin scratching at the surface, catching the small bits of bark in the jar. The only noise that you hear is your knife and breathing. You stop for a moment as something catches your eye. One of the vines definitely just moved. Turning to Zecora, she waves her hoof as a signal to continue. The jar is now halfway filled. Sweat begins to bead on your brow, slowly trailing down the tip of your nose. There was no time to clean it off; you had to be quick.

Like a whip, one of the vines wraps around your wrist, gripping so tight that you drop the knife in pain. With your other hand, you drop the jar and catch the knife by the handle. The vine begins to slowly drag you up the tree as you slash at it repeatedly. It lets out a tiny shriek as it releases its deathly grip and retracts. Turning around, you see why Zecora hasn’t helped you at all: She was dealing with her own problems right now. Three vines lash at her with quick strikes, trying their best to grab hold of her. Her eyes give off a faint glow as she smacks them aside with her staff. You attempt to dash to her aid, but feel something tug at your ankle, flipping you on your back. A vine has wrapped itself around your ankle, dragging you up the tree again. Multiple vines emerge from the branches above, slowly descending towards you.

“I’ve seen enough hentai to know where this is going!” you bellow. Bending upwards, you grab the vine and begin chopping away at it. It lets out a scream as you sever it from your leg and fall back down to the ground, landing on your feet. The pain surges throughout your entire lower body; you had to have fallen at least six feet.

“Anon, don’t forget the jar! We cannot fail after coming this far!” she shouts, smacking aside vines with her staff. Scooping up the jar and cap, you close the jar, pocket it, and bolt off to assist Zecora. One vine grabs her staff and pulls it from her grip as the other two quickly jolt forward. One latches onto her back leg, sweeping her off her hooves. Sprinting at a breakneck speed, you jump up and catch the other vine, stopping it short from grabbing her, making sure to stab it. It jerks from your grip as the others retract back into the branches, dropping Zecora and her staff. She grabs it as you land, running off with you right behind her. After two or three minutes of running, you both stop and take a moment to catch your breath.

“Damn it, that was insane,” you breathe, panting heavily. Zecora nods in agreement and puts out her hoof. Digging into your pocket, you pull out the jar and hand it over. She places it in her bag and resumes walking back with you in tow. After a little while, you finally reach the small hut and let out a sigh of relief. The smell of incense consumes your nose as you enter, almost making your eyes tear. Zecora empties her bag, placing a few small sacks and the jar on her table. She digs into her cabinets, grabbing assortments of powders and plants.

“Anon, please, will you be a dear? Grind the bark until it’s a pasty smear,” she asks, pushing a pestle and mortar over with her muzzle. You proceed to dump the small jar of bark into the ceramic bowl and pound away at it. Sure enough, it begins turning into a paste like substance as you mash it. Zecora digs into one of the sacks and pulls out a bright blue flower with her teeth, placing it into a separate bowl.

“I’m guessing that’s poison joke?” you ask, pointing at the flower. She nods and continues filling the bowl with more flowers. “Why are you picking it up? Aren’t you supposed to avoid touching it?” Her facial expression completely changes, going from indifferent to depressed.

“Yes, you should avoid any contact with this plant at any rate. I now suffer because of I could not avoid that fate.” She turns her head away, pretending to look for more supplies. It takes a moment, but the realization finally sets in.

“That’s the reason you rhyme when you talk, isn’t it?” you blurt, not realizing you just thought aloud. Her entire body freezes for moment before slowly turning to you. She gives you a single nod and looks back to the plant.

“I once...” She hesitates for a moment, before turning back to you. “...Ate the plant, not knowing what it was. I quickly realized just what it does.” Biting your lower lip, you try your hardest not to laugh. Just the thought of a zebra eating a plant and rhyming against their will was freaking hilarious.

“Isn’t the antidote simple to make? Why don’t you just drink it?” She rubs her hoof against her foreleg uncomfortably and shrugs.

“The antidote is for if the plant touches the skin, not if you take ingest it or take it in,” she says in a quiet tone. She waves her hoof in the air, trying to redirect the conversation. “Enough about that; there’s work to do! This mixture is not exactly easy to brew.” Grabbing the pestle and mortar, you continue grinding the bark into thick paste-like substance as Zecora begins the same procedure with the poison joke. Once completed, you give her the purple oak and watch her do her magic. She begins mixing the two pastes which slowly become a fine blue powder.

“How...?” You stop yourself from finishing that statement. This was a world filled with talking equines and magic: There wasn’t much logic that applied here. After adding some strange smelling orange powder to the concoction, Zecora opens a cabinet and gives you a heavy container filled with soft clay.

“Roll that out and make it thin. We’ll then make a ball to put the powder in,” Zecora states, pointing at the mold. Grabbing a chunk of the clay, you roll it into a small ball and push your thumb into the center to create a small well. Zecora fills it with the mixture, which you proceed to cover up. After making about twenty or so pellets, you place them on a tray, which you then bring outside.

“We must let these dry in the sun. Then they will be ready and completely done.” You place them in a small pocket of sunlight right outside the house. “Come back tomorrow and they should be done. Then we will try them out and give them a test run.”

Grabbing one of the pellets, you look at Zecora with a question fresh in your mind.

“I’m curious to know how this will break. I mean, they are fragile enough to crack, but how will I be sure that it’ll do so when it hits the target?” you question. Zecora takes one of the pellets and slams it on the ground away from you. It pops as it collides with the soil, leaving a splash of paste in its place.

“The orange powder that I added to the mix is the key to this particular fix,” she answers with a sly smile.

“So basically, the orange powder has some kind of reaction if hits something hard while going really fast?” She nods.

“The explosion works with great haste and will turn the powder into a fine paste. The purple oak makes the poison joke’s effect work fast, and it is very potent, so it’ll surely last.” Zecora give you a small bottle filled with what looks like soapy water. “This is the antidote. Just rub it on the skin and the effect should wear off as fast as it can begin.”

Pocketing the small bottle, you thank her for the help and head out into town. Looking into your rucksack, you grab the Marelock Holmes book and enter Twilight’s library.

“Hey, Twilight, I’m back from my tr—” You cut yourself short as you suppress a laugh. Twilight hangs on a wall, held together by duct tape. She kicks her legs in attempt to free herself from the accursed trap.

“Thank Celestia you’re here, Anon! I need your help!” You don’t know why, but you can’t help yourself. You just have to say it.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out today, but it seems you’ve got that covered.” She glares daggers at you as you fall to the ground, laughing at your own stupid joke.

“Haha, real funny. Now do you mind getting me out of this stuff?” Wiping the tears from your eyes, you stand back up and look closely at the mess of tape. It wraps around her entire torso and horn. Removing the tape from her horn, she lets out a yelp and puts her hoof to it.

“Alright, there you go,” you say, standing back. Twilight tries to use her magic, but nothing comes out. “Crap, I must have messed with it when I ripped the tape off.” You look down at the tape around her torso uncomfortably.

“Uh, you might want to bite down on this,” you suggest, handing her a handkerchief. She looks at you with a confused expression but complies with your suggestion. Grabbing the edge of the tape, you rip it off in one fluid motion. Twilight’s eyes widen as the pain begins to settle, her scream muffled by the cloth. You look at her and try your hardest not to laugh. A large section of chest, sides, and back are missing fur, leaving her completely bare. She continues to scream obscenities into the handkerchief. After a few minutes, she calms down and looks down at herself.

“How did you get yourself up there?” you ask, still holding in your laugh. She lets out an annoyed sigh before her eyes widen to the size of plates.

“Pinkie.” You raise an eyebrow as she begins pacing back and forth. “It’s that time of the month for her.” Your heart sinks. Looking over at the calendar, you check the date. Sure enough, it was her time.

“Estrus,” you mutter under your breath. Twilight gives you a worried nod as she rubs at the hairless spot on her body. The thing about Pinkie’s estrus cycle is that she becomes bat shit insane like an Italian grandmother being told that her grandson isn't hungry. Throwing the tape aside, you place the Marelock book on a table and begin searching the room.

"She isn't here, is she?" you whisper to Twilight, checking under tables and inside chests. Twilight shakes her head as you let out a sigh of relief.

"No, she left, but not before taping me to the wall!" she grunts, gritting her teeth. "That mare gets more and more insane each month! I told her that there was no way to get past her estrus cycle with magic, so she said she’d go ‘use’ you. I tried to stop her and then the next thing I know, I'm taped to wall without even knowing how!"

“Well, in any case, I need to avoid her at al—” A faint whisper cuts you off. Entering your focus state, you close your eyes and ask your staff, “What’s up?”

“Pinkie is near. Something about her seems almost sinister.” Exiting the state, you look around for anywhere that she could pop up.

“She’s nearby,” you mutter. Twilight begins looking around the room, her eyes filled with terror. A low rumbling sound begins to echo throughout the small room, sending you and Twilight into a petrified state. No matter what you do, you can’t move. The bookshelf ahead of you begins to violently shake, sending books falling to ground. The bookcase breaks open as a straight haired Pinkie lunges at you, fore legs spread wide, trying to wrap around you.

“It’s Pinkie time!” she bellows. Stepping to the side, she misses completely and smacks into the wall head first. Twilight grabs Pinkie with her magic and lifts her into the air.

“How do you deal with this every month, Anon?” Twilight asks, watching Pinkie struggle to remove herself from the magical aura.

“I have no idea. I’m usually busy training with Zecora when she’s going through Estrus,” you answer with a shrug. “I say we just take her back to Sugarcube Corner and lock her in her room until she gets better. Do you have any rope?”

“There should be some in my storage chest upstairs. It’s the one at the end of my bed,” Twilight says, pointing up the stairs. Pinkie stops her struggling and half lids her eyes.

“Anon, how kinky! Can’t have me fight back as you dominate me, huh? And Twilight, having a rope at the end of your bed? How lewd.” You both glare at her as her smirk grows wider. Grabbing the rope, you head back downstairs and begin tying Pinkie up.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Say, are you going to use a ball gag too?” she asks, eyes wide with excitement. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration before stuffing a piece of cloth in her mouth.

“I’m gonna take her back to Sugarcube Corner.”

Author's Notes:

I don't even. Jack, why do you do this?!