It's Not Easy Being Pink

>Day Hardboiled Noir Film Recognition on Earth

>Be Anon

 

        It was a typical day, at least, as typical as it gets here in Yonkers. I was minding my nose as I tapped aimlessly on a website. Thread by thread, I went through the content. Slack-jawed trolls, inept artists, and those filthy hippies who dodge taxes. They were the worst offenders of them all. I was interrupted for a moment and stopped scrolling to see an image calling out to me. A small duck, "they" call them "ducklings", was being swept away by an unseen gust of wind. I chuckled as I often do in the face of this cruel, twisted world. Ducks are for hippies and ponds, I thought. My door burst open and a young filly stood across from me. Of all the investigation offices she could have walked into, she walked into mine. I knew from the smell of candy and gunpowder that she was here on business.

        "Detective Anon!" the curly-haired dame exclaimed, "It's awful, it's terrible, it's... it's just the worst!"

        I could see she was overcome with emotion, as ponies are wont to do, "Slow down and tell me... what is bothering you?"

        "It's my bakery!" she continued yelling at pointblank range, "Some goons are threatening me. They say if I don't pay'em, I'll be baking with the fishes!"

        I never cared for baked goods or fish for that matter. Still, I could not let some ugly mugs cause petty arson and threaten ponies in my town.

        "Tell me your name" I said as smoothly as I could, "And I'll see what I can do"

        The little filly bounced around my desk, "My name's Pinkamena Diane Pie. I run the bakery over on New Mane Street."

        "You're not involved with the three mooks who are bothering you, right?" I pressed her for an answer.

        She turned her nose up and batted her eyes, "Why, detective, I would never be friends with such mean-meanie-mean-faces."

        I could tell she was telling me the truth by her use of such language. I grabbed my note pad and started getting the straight facts. I made a column beside it for crooked facts and margin notes. This filly could talk and, before I realized, I had written out six pages of names, birth dates and party plans she kept in her personal circle of friends. "Friends", the word made my blood run cold. Even so long after the hippy invasion was curved, we still used the phrase. With this filly, any one of these contacts could be secretly plotting against her. Just like New Hampshire and Leipzig, I imagined. Pinkamena stopped speaking long enough for me to tell her I was on the case.

        "Just lay low" I turned my collar up even though it wasn't raining, "I'll find these three... and bring them to justice."

        Pinkamena sprang to her heels, "Oh, thank you, Anon! I knew coming to you was a good idea!"

The cotton-candy pony skipped from my office. The air smelled of sugar and cheap, plastic gag toys. I knew where I was heading, the criminals wouldn't smell as nice. Criminals, almost as unwashed as hippies... almost.

        It was half-past the last time I checked my watch when I arrived at the docks to meet her. While she was a good contact for criminal activity in the area, she was always horrible at making dinner arrangements. I hate fish and she knew it would make our meeting brief. A creep around the docks asked me for some change. Yeah, "change", couldn't we all use a little? Suddenly, she was standing there by our table. Her mane was long and curled at the edges. Her eye-shadow accented her dress perfectly in the dim lighting. Almost too perfectly.

        "Detective Anonymous, we meet again" she grinned with her wicked marshmallow mouth.

        "Save it, toots, we know what this is really about" I scowled.

        "Toots?" she said bewildered, "Address me as the lady I am or you'll be leaving this case rather cold."

        I hated when I needed help, "Lady Rarity, lovely to see you this evening."

        "There, was that so hard?" Rarity mocked.

        I grimaced, "It was harder than being rude... you know I'm too hardboiled for these pleasantries. Now, do you have the goods?"

        Rarity presented a small folder from her dress and tucked it back between her gown, "Did you fulfill your end of the deal?"

        I brandished a large, white diamond. I have these things laying all around my office, it was an odd request. I never look a horse's gift in the mouth though, all information is good.

        "Oh, Anon, you do know how to treat a lady!" Rarity approached with the documents.

        The exchange went well, despite the smell of fish permeating my trench coat. I looked over my information to find that a new group of mobsters had moved into the city. I blamed the hippies for allowing low-income housing and free library memberships. They called themselves the, "Legion of Donuts". Not exactly catchy, but I am sure copyrighting permits are filling up with new organization names everyday. I at least had a solid lead from this information and decided it was time to get detective-brand tough.

        I followed some rookies I had been following for a previously unrelated case. This guy was just really easy to shadow. I heard him discussing something about joining a new evil society of bakers. The pieces were falling into place now. Trailing them a bit longer took me the an entrance to their hideout. The building was massive and was strategically guarded by a large, angry man at the front door. Clever, but I bet they never thought of someone coming in from the roof.

After trying to climb the building for a for minutes, I gave up and realized that spider who had bit me early was not radioactive. Incredible superpowers aside, I was determined on gaining entry to this den of devils. I drew my press-on moustache from my coat and got into character.

        "Hello, sir" I said to the guard, "I would like to join your fine establishment of "bakers" and such fellows who "bake" things."

        The guard looked at me with scrutinizing eyes, "Do you have a recommendation from the school?"

        "Why yes, my good man" I said quickly, "Let me just retrieve it from my car."

        I ran around the opposite side of the building. Easily fooled guards are a breeze for me. After all, I don't even drive! If he couldn't see through my little ruse, then this masterfully crafted recommendation would get me in with ease. I returned to the guard, walking boldly to show I was not a spy.

        "Here you are, my gentle-sir" I handed him my ticket.

        He looked it over once, then to me, "This isn't a recommendation. It's written in blue crayon."

        "I do apologize, sir, but my school was low on funding and could not afford green and red crayons as well" I was sweating bullets at this point.

The guard raised an eye-brow at me, "Oh, well, sorry. I know how rough school can be these days. Please, go on it inside."

        Anon, you clever scamp, you. I thought I should treat myself to some ice-cream once this case was solved. I entered the building to see a very sophisticated looking workshop. Trying to hide all the illegal dough they had was not my concern. I was here to deal with their policy on extortion. I grabbed a nearby worker and pressed his body against a nearby mixer.

        "W-who are you" he shook with fright.

        "Not important" I held him tightly down, "What is important is you tell me where your boss is."

        "B-b-boss?" the man stuttered.

        "Yeah, so don't get cute with me and start singing" I narrowed my eyes.

        The man looked up nervously, "I don't have a boss, t-this is a school for bakers."

        I could see that playing the "good" cop wasn't going to work here. I flipped a switch on the mixer and saw its beaters spring to life.

        "Frosting, eh?" I said with a smirk, "Would be a shame if something happened to it."

        "W-what are you doing?" the man watched the beaters whirl.

        I slowly moved his head towards the mixing bowl, "Tell me where your underground hive is so I can take out your boss and save the town."

        "Y-you're crazy! There's no underground hive of bakers! This is a school!"

        I knew it wouldn't be easy, "You leave me no choice then..."

        I pressed another button and the beaters spun faster and faster.

        "NO!" shouted the worker, "If you overbeat the frosting, it'll crack and flake from the cakes!"

        "Then you better talk fast!" I yelled at him.

        Sweat was building on his brow and he looked around in confusion, "OK! The boss is downstairs! He's at the very bottom floor! There's an elevator switch behind a poster on the wall over there! Just please, stop beating the frosting!"

        I killed the power on the mixer. Nothing like a good beating to get the information you want. I followed the directions of the worker-mook and headed over to the wall. Sure enough, there was a secret switch which lead to a secret elevator. I proceeded to the last floor I could via elevator and stepped out into an odd warehouse. After some time skulking around, I came upon a door that read, "Employees Only". Clearly, these thugs were crafty. I entered the room to find a shipping bay that met up with the dockyard. It all started to make sense.

        "You there! Pick up the pace!" a worker yelled, "You know she wants all this flour out by morning!"

        "I know, I know. Yeesh, you would think a chef of her status would just send things by truck."

        A slap rang out in the warehouse, "You know she doesn't trust wheels, dumb-dumb."

        "Oww, alright, boss, I got it!"

        The gears in my head started turning from this cheap slapstick. Who was this mysterious "she" and what did she have against wheels? Well, it was time to find out who was running this operation. I sneaked around a bit before coming upon another door. It was a nice door, with gold trimming and a plate glass  square in the center. I took note that it was a swing door. This wasn't the work of somebody... no, this was the work of somepony! My epiphany did not get too much celebration before a unicorn came out of the room. She stood before me with her chef hat and apron smartly parted.

        "Who dares interrupt the great and powerful chef Trixie!" the unicorn posed for dramatic effect.

        I clapped slowly for a moment, "Bravo, Trixie, but I found you out before you could hurt anyone else. Unless you are currently hurting someone, I can't stop that at this current time."

        Trixie looked back at me with apprehension, "What are you talking about? The great and powerful chef Trixie hasn't hurt anyone."

        "Save it for the courts, doll-face. We both know you are guilty" I smiled and produced my hand-cuffs.

        Trixie backed away slowly, "Guilty? Me? I haven't done anything to anypony!"

        "Come off it" I said as grammatically as possible, "We both know you are running an undercover organization of evil and trying to monopolize all the baking in this city and maybe even the entire world. We both know you had to take out the competition, make it look like an accident so no one would get wise to your plan. Well, the jig is up!"

        I imagined I sounded pretty handsome during that exposition.

        "You crazy fool! Trixie has been running her bakery under fair market practices since it began! Trixie has even invented a gluten-free, butter-free, peanut-free super dough for delicious muffins that anypony can eat regardless of allergies!"

        "Oh yeah?" I wasn't having that sob story, "Then how do you explain the underground factory filled with hundreds of workers?"

        "You just did" Trixie smiled.

        "Oh, yeah, ok, well! How about the weird shipping using only boats?" I had her now.

        "The great and powerful chef Trixie doesn't trust wheels..." she claimed.

        I put my hand-cuffs away... for the moment, "So, I am confused now. If you didn't threaten Pinkie Pie, who did?"

        "Threaten Pinkie? No, I don't even associate with her. What makes you think I, the great and powerful chef Trixie, would try to ruin her store?"

        "Well, I got this intelligence on this place that you were having an, "Evil Baker" day and assumed this was your headquarters for corruptions."

        Trixie assured me that I was delusional and looking for someone else. I hate to admit it, but she must have used hippy-magic to dissuade me from arresting her and I fell for it. I left through the shipping port and stood on the docks.

        The moon was out already and the stars shined in the sky. I felt small and helpless, like a daffodil crying for its mother. If I couldn't bring this case to light, if I couldn't help Pinkamena, then I would have failed my Private Investigator's oath. No, I won't let that happen. I could never fail the client. I shouted to the heavens so they would know that not even divine intervention would stop me in my dismal time. It was time to pay Pinkie a visit.

        The next morning, after a quick jog and a hot-dog with extra mayo, I stopped in to Pinkie's bakery. The door swung open as I entered, but no one was working from what I could see.

        "Hello there, Pinkamena!" I shouted, "I just came by to see what you're up to!"

        There was no response. I worried that I was too late, that perhaps something terrible had happened. I walked around the counter and entered the kitchen. Flour was poured across a table, dishes were in the sink, and a stove nearby was still hot. All these clues lead me to one belief. Pinkie Pie had been pony-napped by the three thugs and was now a prisoner. This theory didn't hold as much water as Pinkie Pie walked back into the building.

        "Oh, hi, Anon!" she blasted, "How are you?"

        I stumbled from around the counter, "Oh, I am fine, Pinkie... where were you?"

        "I was dropping off cupcakes across the street for the foals at the daycare" she bounced.

        "I see, Pinkamena, I have bad news" I frowned.

She listened very well, for the first time, as I told her all the grueling work I had done thus far with no real outcome.

        "Oh my, Anon, I am sorry this is so hard" she frowned with me, "But, maybe if you just wait here until about two o'clock, you can catch the bullies yourself?"

        Wait, what? That was such a genius idea that I hardly believe Pinkie came up with it. I looked at my watch to find it still not having batteries. I really need to fix this thing someday. A clock on the all rang out two chimes. The timing couldn't be better if some godlike being was writing this while I spoke! The three perpetrators I have heard so much about fumbled into the bakery. It was a fairly ordinary looking bunch with two humans and one pegasus making up the group. The pegasus was wearing a fedora, but I think that was not as menacing as she might have thought.

        "Hey, Pinkamena" the pegasus began, "Do you have the dough for today? I can't keep "protecting" your shop from "unforeseen" acts of "nature" if you don't pay up."

        The two humans cracked their knuckles and laughed at the gross amount of air quotes the pegasus was doing. I instantly recognized the pegasus from a file I received earlier in the week about a pegasus who was committing petty theft in the area. As you may have figured, I don't tackle petty cases of theft, so I threw that file away.

        "Rainbow Dash" I started, "Or do you still go by the "Candy Kid", you criminal?"

        Rainbow Dash laughed, causing a chain reaction of half-laughter in her goons, "Detective Anon, don't you remember the courts cleared my case on account of your poor investigating skills and lack of hard evidence?"

        "Remember?" my eyes were misty, "How could I forget my back-story and my heart wrenching tale of what made me a hardboiled private investigator?"

        "You always were a softy. I am here entirely on legitimate business" Rainbow Dash smirked and licked her lips.

        "Extortion is still illegal in this state, last I checked!" I announced proudly, "If you don't leave this bakery alone, I'll be forced to file a restraining order!"

        Rainbow grit her teeth, "I won't have you meddle in my affairs anymore! Butch, Cud! Make sure this guy doesn't interrupt another cupcake score on our turf."

        I watched the two minions approach me from either side. What they didn't know, however, is that I was a four-time world champion golden-gloves boxers. I threw a hard right at one and connected with his jaw. He went down like a sack of imitation prop rocks. The other goon was faster. He swung and hit my side. I stifled a girlish scream in the presence of so many... girls. I was practiced at being hit by now. I weakly punched into the gut of the mook as he came around me. It was far from effective. He laughed for a moment before a cake hit his face. Pinkie was behind me now, lobbing small cakes at the assailants.

        "I fight for my friends!" Pinkie yelled between blows.

        I smiled at her for a moment. In all the chaos we were causing, the local police were called in to assess what was happening in the bakery. It was at this time that I knew my work was done and that Pinkamena would be safe from the dastardly Candy Kid forever more.

 

>Be Pinkie Pie

PP: Oh, that was a good story, Anon! I liked the part when you pretended to be a private investigator

>Anon sure does tell funny stories

>Even if they have no base in reality

>You hear a ding from the kitchen

PP: Oh! My cupcakes are done~!

A: Oh boy!

>Anon hops to his feet and you both prance to the kitchen

PP: Careful, they're hot

>Grab the pan carefully with your mouth

PP: Ohhh~, look how pretty they turned out. You are so nice for getting me cake mix!

A: Any time, Pinkie, anytime

>Anon rummages through the refrigerator

A: And I saved the best for last...

>Anon cackles a little

>You look up from your cupcakes

PP: Oh?

>Anon places a large pitcher on the table

PP: O~h my gosh, is that...?

A: You bet your tail it is!

PP+A: Chocolate milk with squiggly straws!

>You hug Anon

PP: Oh, Anon, you're every girl's dream

>Anon suddenly has a trench coat on and lowers his voice to sound gruff

A: I know it, toots

>You exchange looks for a minute

>You both burst into laughing

PP: Anon *snort* you're ridiculous!

A: No you!

PP+A: Hahahahaha!

>I am gonna have so much fun having a sleepover with Anon

>I wonder what we'll do tomorrow!?