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Applejack: Private Investigator

by Superbaka45

Chapter 2: Two ponies walk into a bar.....

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Two ponies walk into a bar.....

Applejack woke with a start.  She looked out the window, checking for daylight.  The bird was gone, and the sun was setting.  It was late March, and the days were starting to get longer.  She tried to remember what it was she had been doing before she took her nap.  Then the memory of the case came rushing back.  She was still in a sleepy, trance-like state, but the harsh facts  of the day jolted her back into reality against her will.  Then, a decision was to be made.  She could fall back asleep, (the most appealing option.) perhaps go to the bar down the street, or continue to work on the case.  After only turning up an unrelated hushed romance that day, she figured she'd better hurry up and finish this so she could get her money and save Pinkie from an untimely heart attack.  Mayor Mare was proably on her way out of her office by now, so Applejack began running to the town hall.  It was nice to have a few minutes of freedom, with the wind in her mane, no such case to worry about at just that moment.  After finally approaching the building, she walked in only to find that Mayor Mare herself had gone, and the only pony remaining was her secretary.  

     "Howdy, ma'am."

     "Good evening."  The secretary responded with a dull clatter.

     "I'm Applejack, and I've come here to do some fact-checking for a certain case I'm workin' on, I'm a private investigator, ya see, an' I need some information about a certain somepony."

     "What?  Some kind of record?"  The secretary replied rudely.

     "Yes, exactly, is there some kinda Ponyville archives I can look at or somethin'?"

     "Well it's not like everything is in the archives or anything, ponies have their own personal secrets, and it depends on who you're talking about.  Some information is restricted."

     "I understand that and all, but I'm an investigator and I need information to solve my case."

     "Hmmm, I see.  Whose file do you want?"

     "A colt named Candy Cake."

     "What a redundant, silly name....." the secretary muttered under her breath.  "His info is right here."  Applejack searched the piece of paper for knowledge.  It had his birth date, mother's name, other irrelevancies.  After scanning through those useless details, she found that the father's name wasn't listed.  Then another detail hit her: the mother's name was Pinkie Pie.  Applejack had hit paydirt.  Now she knew why this pony was so special to Pinkie.  But who could the father possibly be?  She doubted it was Doctor Hooves, it was probably just a fling between those two.  Heck, Pinkie had probably dated every pony in Ponyville.  The picture used in the file was the same as Pinkie had showed in her office.  Interesting to note, but not a significant detail

     "There any criminal or medical records in this file?"

     "Why don't you check for yourself?" the secretary responded sharply.

And yes, there were criminal and medical records in the file.  Not that the secretary cared, apparently.  According to the medical records, he was a small colt for his age, even though he'd already earned his cutie mark.  So in that case, he's probably done growing.  And at that realization, Applejack could safely assume that the father was probably a pretty small stallion.  Or that the child was stunted.  Now I wonder if emotional or mental stunting could have anything to do with that?  The things one can learn about a colt with just the medical record!   The criminal record contained nothing, although Applejack figured that like any young pony, he'd played a few tricks on his teacher.  Perhaps if she talked to Cheerilee, she could learn more about Candy Cake's demeanor.  But it was Pinkie's file she really wanted to see.

     "I'm done with this file.  Could I get Pinkie Pie's file from ya now?"

     "Are you sure Pinkie's file is impertinent to your case?"  What Applejack wanted to say was "What do you care, b****?", but she could see that fighting rudeness with rudeness wasn't gonna win out in this situation.  So she replied politely,

     "Yes, I am sure.  Pinkie's the one that came to me with the case, ya see."

     "Uh-hmmmm........."  After a graceful moment of contemplation, the secretary regretfully handed over the document.  Because the previous file had hardly contained any information, Applejack was overwhelmed with the amount of data contained in Pinkie's.  Though the file wasn't as relevant this time, she was still curious about what Pinkie had done in her life.  Apparently, she had ADHD and kidney stones.  But it was her criminal record that surprised Applejack the most: Pinkie had been arrested two times for smuggling guns illegally and once for a DUI after a crazy party she'd thrown.  Pinkie?  Smuggling guns?  There's no way I'm going down gettin' shot up by Pinkie Pie, especially over a silly case like this!  Now Applejack had gotten somwhere.  This called for a celebration down at the bar.

               * * *

Applejack walked into the bar and sat down quickly, her sore muscles taking a rest on the hard barstool.  The bartender was looking shifty, as bartenders do, but his shiftiness was accompanied by a twinge of fear, making Applejack nervous.  Then he revealed the reason for his fear himself.  

     "You might want to clear out of here, miss."

     "Well why would that be, huh?"

     "I know this sounds crazy, but I heard that Ponyville's two undercover mafia bosses are meeting in this bar tonight."

     "Actually, I'm a private investigator, and this sort of business might be good for my case."

     "It's your funeral."

     "I'll take a drink anyhow.  Appletini, shaken, not stirred."

     "You tryin' to be Pony Bond or something?"

     "Can I retain my suave image for a few seconds without you interrupting me?  Farmgirls don't get that chance!"

     "Geez, just take the drink."

Applejack took a sip of the drink.  Applelicious.  It reminded her of the farm, what this was really about.  Not getting to be a cool detective.

     "Listen, Mr. Bartender, I'm sorry about my outburst."

     "I'm a bartender.  I've seen worse."

Some shady looking ponies started to walk into the bar.  It looked as if the bartender's tip had turned out to be true.  She recognized Octavia, a known cello dealer, a few others as well.  But she wasn't expecting Pinkie to show up beside her.  How the hell did Pinkie become the head of the Ponyville mafia?  I s'pose I've figured out now why Pinkie's been smuggling those guns.  I can't let her see me!  Applejack tried to hide, but her orange colour wasn't exactly ideal for that purpose.  Pinkie's gaze met hers.  Crap!  If Pinkie finds out I turned up nothin', she'll probably shoot me to death!  Applejack was starting to get just a bit paranoid now.  But then Pinkie only went to her seat at the head of a nearby table.  Applejack could hear most of the conversation, but only sat there, pretending not to be listening.  If Pinkie's the mob boss, some ponies have got to be holding grudges against her.  Grudges make fine ponies do bad things.  Like kidnapping your enemy's son.  Pinkie began speaking.

     "What do you think you're playing at, Octavia?  You want your gun supply, then you're gonna have to spill the beans!"

     "I don't know what you're talking about, Pinkie.  Interactions have gone off without a hitch.  Nothing's wrong."

     "You know what's wrong!  You did it!  I know you did!"  Pinkie's voice rose into a scream.  Octavia responded to this coolly.

     "I'm sorry, one of our legitimate businessponies has gotten a bit upset, pay no heed."  The patrons of the bar returned to their chatter.  Pinkie fumed in silence.

     "I'm not doing any more business with you until you give him back."

     "Then it looks like our business is over." Octavia and her entourage discreetly left.  Then Pinkie began to approach Applejack.  Her countenance was one of total hatred.  After staring at Applejack for a few minutes, she clapped her hooves.  Bodyguards began dragging Applejack towards the door.  On the way out, she hit her head on several barstools and a doorframe, eventually blacking out.

     Next Chapter: The line is crossed. Estimated time remaining: 2 Minutes

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