Back for more, I see.
"So, what have I got to write next?" I ask.
"Ooh! This one looks cool!" Pinkie says, bouncing up and down.
"And... what is it?
"It's so awesome!"
"Pinkie," I say, unamused. "Might you tell me exactly WHAT it is that's so awesome?"
"Oh! Yeah!" she giggles. "It's Crime!"
"Um... how exactly is Crime cool?"
"Because it is!" She defended. "Trust me!"
A dark night, in a city that knows how to keep its secrets. But, on the fifteenth floor of the Flim-Flam building, one stallion is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions. He is... Mac Noir, Private Investigator.
It was Tuesday. My office space was crowded by a visitor. A dame. She was a tall one, standin' about a head taller than myself. She had a white coat, a crown, and a horn longer 'n my leg.
"Eh, whatcha' want, miss?" I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Excuse me?" the tall mare replied. She looked a bit shocked. "I am Princess Celestia! I wish to be addressed as such!"
"You come into my office fer a reason, so what is it, miss?"
"Hmph!" She said. "My sister has been acting strangely. She does not come out of her bedroom anymore, she simply calls for food and raises the moon from inside the room. I was hoping you'd be able to figure out what has been going on, but I may as well go elsewhere."
"Now, ma'am, hold yer horses," I stopped her. A case meant a job. A job meant money. And money meant I could pay my phone bill. "I'll take yer case."
"Well, Pinkie, how was that?" I asked.
"That was great! Where'd you come up with an idea like that?
"It's on my favorite radio program, Prairie Home Companion."
"I wanna listen to that!" she said, pulling a radio out of the vast reaches of hammerspace.
"Aagh!" I scream. "Will you stop that?"
"Stop what?"
Hello loyal readers! All six of you! May I present the 1,000th word in this fic! I never thought I would make it this far! And... that's kinda depressing. But it's here! And that's all that matters!