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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Cold Case
It was a snatch-and-grab, if I had ever seen one. Where there had once been one ruby-encrusted, jalapeno-iced strawberry-lemon cake for a chubby little dragon’s birthday party, there were now only crumbs and the occasional gem shard.
I took a deep drag from my pipe and blew the bubbles out of my nose.
“Pinkie, dear, what have we told you about blowing bubbles and talking? You’re going to get soap in your throat.”
The dame, fussy as she was, made a good point. She’s run this joint since I was in diapers, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her.
“Thank you, dearie. Now put that pipe away.”
I hand over my pipe to Gummy and get myself thinking.
Besides the birthday boy himself, only five other mares knew about that cake. Logic insisted that one of those mares must have stolen that cake. And as hard as it was to think that there could be a mole in my circle, the facts were staring me right in my pretty pink face.
Stop number one was the library. The gal who ran it was a little goody two-shoes—the last person I’d think would do the dirty, so it’d be best to get her out of the way early. Before things got messy.
“Messy? Pinkie, what are you talking about?”
While I gave her pad the sweep, I told her not to worry her cute little head about it. Leave this sort of thing to the professionals. We’re not gonna lose any more sleep over things we’ve already seen.
As I suspected, not a trace of chili frosting was in the main floor. I’m about to check upstairs when the girl grabs my hoof.
“Spike’s got a belly-ache right now. Could you leave him alone?”
I looked into those big, round, innocent eyes, and I knew I wasn’t going to find any crumbs upstairs either. This gal hadn’t done a dirty thing in her life. She was probably the kind of girl who learned about the birds and bees from a book.
“W-Wh-Whaa? Pinkie, that’s hardly appropriate! And entirely untrue!”
The poor thing was blushing and sputtering. I knew I was a hell of a charmer, but this is a bit too much. I slip through the door just before books start getting thrown.
After five hours of scouring every inch of Sweet Apple Acres, I set my sights on the Ponyville spa, where a certain pair of broads were having their weekly spa session.
I slammed the door to the hooficure room open, and all the conversation in it grinds to a halt.
“Pinkie, dear, why in Equestria are you wearing a trenchcoat? And are you muttering to yourself again?”
The first broad’s real pretty, in a cheap sort of way. She’s got curves that most mares would kill for, and makeup caked a mile thick.
“Excuse me?!”
The second’s a real beaut. Former model, if my sources weren’t exaggerating things. But I believed them. She’s got a face that’s cuter than a foal, a tail that goes on forever, and legs that just don’t quit.
“Eep!”
She was even cuter when she’s embarrassed.
“Oh my goodness…”
But I cut right down to the chase. After all, a very special cake got nabbed this morning, and the trail wasn’t getting any warmer.
“Is that what this is all about?” The first broad huffs and tosses back her hair. “Well, Fluttershy and I have been here since the crack of dawn, getting a full makeover. The both of us were in the mud pit all morning.”
A nod from the spa ponies confirms their alibi. Which means only one pony could have done this. I race out of the spa, with a rainbow-colored figure in my head.
“You know that I friggin’ hate spicy food.”
… The girl had a point...
I’ve gone full circle, and it got me nowhere. Each visit replays in my mind, but I can’t put anything together that makes sense.
… Then it hits me. A little detail from my library visit that went under my radar. Until now.
I kick open the door of my room and I race down the street.
Pushing aside a fuming librarian, I trample into the second floor. And my nose is immediately assaulted by the smell of chili sauce.
The little dragon is in his basket, clutching his belly. He even still has ruby sprinkles around his lips.
Case closed!
I took a deep drag from my pipe and blew the bubbles out of my nose.
“Pinkie, dear, what have we told you about blowing bubbles and talking? You’re going to get soap in your throat.”
The dame, fussy as she was, made a good point. She’s run this joint since I was in diapers, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her.
“Thank you, dearie. Now put that pipe away.”
I hand over my pipe to Gummy and get myself thinking.
Besides the birthday boy himself, only five other mares knew about that cake. Logic insisted that one of those mares must have stolen that cake. And as hard as it was to think that there could be a mole in my circle, the facts were staring me right in my pretty pink face.
Stop number one was the library. The gal who ran it was a little goody two-shoes—the last person I’d think would do the dirty, so it’d be best to get her out of the way early. Before things got messy.
“Messy? Pinkie, what are you talking about?”
While I gave her pad the sweep, I told her not to worry her cute little head about it. Leave this sort of thing to the professionals. We’re not gonna lose any more sleep over things we’ve already seen.
As I suspected, not a trace of chili frosting was in the main floor. I’m about to check upstairs when the girl grabs my hoof.
“Spike’s got a belly-ache right now. Could you leave him alone?”
I looked into those big, round, innocent eyes, and I knew I wasn’t going to find any crumbs upstairs either. This gal hadn’t done a dirty thing in her life. She was probably the kind of girl who learned about the birds and bees from a book.
“W-Wh-Whaa? Pinkie, that’s hardly appropriate! And entirely untrue!”
The poor thing was blushing and sputtering. I knew I was a hell of a charmer, but this is a bit too much. I slip through the door just before books start getting thrown.
After five hours of scouring every inch of Sweet Apple Acres, I set my sights on the Ponyville spa, where a certain pair of broads were having their weekly spa session.
I slammed the door to the hooficure room open, and all the conversation in it grinds to a halt.
“Pinkie, dear, why in Equestria are you wearing a trenchcoat? And are you muttering to yourself again?”
The first broad’s real pretty, in a cheap sort of way. She’s got curves that most mares would kill for, and makeup caked a mile thick.
“Excuse me?!”
The second’s a real beaut. Former model, if my sources weren’t exaggerating things. But I believed them. She’s got a face that’s cuter than a foal, a tail that goes on forever, and legs that just don’t quit.
“Eep!”
She was even cuter when she’s embarrassed.
“Oh my goodness…”
But I cut right down to the chase. After all, a very special cake got nabbed this morning, and the trail wasn’t getting any warmer.
“Is that what this is all about?” The first broad huffs and tosses back her hair. “Well, Fluttershy and I have been here since the crack of dawn, getting a full makeover. The both of us were in the mud pit all morning.”
A nod from the spa ponies confirms their alibi. Which means only one pony could have done this. I race out of the spa, with a rainbow-colored figure in my head.
“You know that I friggin’ hate spicy food.”
… The girl had a point...
I’ve gone full circle, and it got me nowhere. Each visit replays in my mind, but I can’t put anything together that makes sense.
… Then it hits me. A little detail from my library visit that went under my radar. Until now.
I kick open the door of my room and I race down the street.
Pushing aside a fuming librarian, I trample into the second floor. And my nose is immediately assaulted by the smell of chili sauce.
The little dragon is in his basket, clutching his belly. He even still has ruby sprinkles around his lips.
Case closed!