"Well, lead the way," giving Twilight a warm smile.
>"Let's start off with Rarity. Her boutique is just around the corner," Twilight explains.
>"Anyways, what brings you to Ponyville,Anon?" She asks.
"To visit a dear friend..and a little rest time for me I suppose," you say with a chuckle.
 
 
>"Come on, mang. A deal's a deal. Miss a payment, we get some quality funtime with you," a rather rough looking pony sneers.
>"I'll come up with the money next week, I swear! Just give me more time!" The kneeling pony pleads.
>"Time's over, bub! Now we make you squeal like a little piggy!" Another pony holding a baseball bat muses.
>"You! Mister! Please help me!" He shouts when he sees you at the end of the alley.
>The two thugs look at you menacingly. "What the fuck are you looking at, you fucking monkey? Get the fuck outta here!"
You just raise your arms and back away slowly. "Hey man, Sure. Jus' an innocent bystander."
>"Yeah that's right! Nothing to see here,pal." The pony with a baseball bat adds.
>"Hey! Wait! Please help me!"
 
>"Sorry sir, but the store is already closed. Just come back tomorrow, will you?" The stallion behind the counter says.
"I'd hate to bother you but," the commotion just beside the shop gets both your attention. "I kinda need it now," you add while motioning for the commotion outside.
>The stallion realizes what it's for and clucks. "For a little 'mergency,huh? Whaddaya need?"
"A crowbar if you have one,please."
>He smiles and takes one from the wall. "Now, that's a spare one we got here so...it's on the house," he adds with a grin.
>"Git those bastards real good,yeah? That pretty troublesome duo wouldn't be missed anyways."
 
"Excuse me sir," you say as you tap the thug pony lightly in the shoulder with the crowbar.
>"What the fu-." You cut him off with a backhand swing that connects with his face.
>The guy staggers sideways and falls at a pile of garbage.
>The other thug holding the pony shoves his victim aside and magically levitates a knife but steps back a bit.
"Heeeeey man, where are you going? Not up for a little fun?" You ask.
>"I don't know what you are or what your problem is but..take one more step closer and I'll slit your throat!" He stutters as he waves his knife at your face.
"With what, that piddly-ass cheap punk knife of yours? Get the fuck outta here before I carve your head up."
>He wavers a bit but drops his knife. He then breaks into a sprint while shouting profanities at you.
 
"Heya Bugsy," you say while taking a seat on one of the barstools.
>"Watcha having,bud? Good thing you swung by," he explains as he slides a rolled paper at you. "You got a telegram."
"Something light," you mutter while you unravel the message.