Detective Anon


                                            Originally Published February 16th, 2020


                                            Zigzag made a discord request and I felt a need to shit on both it and myself. Mostly myself


                                            https://youtu.be/TZ0FyBGVdu8 (embed)

                                            >Grey skies blot out the Ponyville sun as you slink into Sugarcube Corner

                                            >You take up your usual booth in the corner, and the waitress sighs when she sees you

                                            >You’re Anon, P.I.

                                            >”More like P.I.M.A.”

                                            Pinkie. You eat so many sweets and yet all that I see from your mouth are sour barbs.

                                            >”Yeah, yeah. What do you want, Nonny.” She’s curter than normal today

                                            The usual.

                                            >She sighs again. “Coming up.”

                                            >You always come to Sugarcube Corner when you’re on a case. The sugar gets the gears turning, and the loneliness helps you think. Used to be a lively place, apparently, though no one knows why that changed

                                            >”Here.” The pink dame slams a tray on your table: two candy bars, and a tall glass of Nesquik

                                            >“Enjoy.” The words ooze through her clenched teeth like Komodo venom, and she leaves you to head back behind the counter

                                            Always a pleasure, Pink.

                                            >Grabbing a candy bar, you unwrap it and start to break it into pieces while ruminate on the case you were assigned

                                            ”Two murders, hours apart, in the local gay bathhouse.”

                                            >The chocolate bar breaks between words

                                            “The victims were entirely unrelated. Neither friends, coworkers, nor lovers.”

                                            >You grab the second candy bar and begin to work on it as well

                                            “According to staff, it was the first time either stallion had visited the place. And yet, no other new customers met their demise that day.”

                                            “So why them?”, you murmur as you flick a candy piece across the room

                                            1/2


                                            >”Ow! Damnit Anon, again?!”

                                            >Her rump, firm but yielding, jiggles as the chocolate square bounces off and away into some far corner of the room

                                            >”Why do I even bother anymore…ow!” Another jiggle

                                            >The door opens, but you’re too deep in thought to notice

                                            >”Hiya, ma’am! Welcome to Sugarc-ow! Anon, I swear-No please don’t leave! Damnit…Ow!”

                                            >Minutes and candy pieces pass with no breakthroughs

                                            >It begins to rain outside, a gentle pattering against the windowpane

                                            >On the tray sit empty wrappers, so you heave your briefcase onto the table and open it

                                            Time to get serious.

                                            >”whirrrrrrrrr”, the rotor on your RC helicopter revs up, carrying itself from your briefcase and across the diner towards Pinkie

                                            >It rushes past her face as close and as fast as it can go, and the moll doesn’t so much as blink

                                            >You send it on another pass. Her eyes look like glass as it speeds past

                                            Wait a moment...the owner of the golf course played a game with the victims before they died.

                                            >You bring your helicopter rushing back, trimming the curl from Pinkie’s mane as it races back to your booth

                                            “Thanks Pink,” you scatter some change onto the table and drown your Quik, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

                                            >”Just get out.”, she growls

                                            >As you stand to leave, you spot a candy piece you missed earlier, hidden partially under one of the wrappers

                                            >Grabbing it, you flick it across the room like all the others

                                            >”AIE! Anon you bastard!”

                                            >Hole in one.