On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

Seid bereit! Immer bereit!

Pioniere aus der DDR.

My phone is shaking. — Hello, — Valentine said neutrally. The night and the day before had been good. Like a sea of shit. — Belkin, you? Alive? — Petrovich’s voice did not bode well. — With your prayers and medical qualifications... — No kidding, Valentine. To be honest, — Sergey Petrovich spoke tiredly and tensely. — I need you. — Diving? — Yes, but not immediately. You'll practice for a couple of weeks! Although, you don't have these weeks. And we don't have them. — And what is required? — Valentine has been feeling a little shitty lately, so that he can get pumped up with strange secret drugs once again. — Not on the phone. You do it... call your... you never know. «Bitch!» — said Valentin to the disconnected smartphone, and not to the address of Petrovich, but in general. Yes, Belkin flew nobly. Dialed Maryska. He thought for a while that she wouldn't answer. She answered. — I'm in touch. — Hi, Rysenok. It's me. — Belk, is that what you need? I'm at work, actually! — We know your job! He-he… But seriously, I have three pieces of news. — Is it good, so-so and bad? — Yeah. Good, good, and even better. In the first lines of my letter, I inform you that I am on an unlimited vacation. However, they didn't give much vacation time. — Is your office falling apart there, by any chance? Otherwise you'll be jumping up trees with squirrels in the park. — Lynx, everything is normal. Our company «Horns — computers — hooves» lives and thrives. At us our beloved state even bought a couple of my developments. For decent money, by the way! — And where does Bakunin's sarcasm come from? — Well, I was counting on indecent... — Belkin, close one eye. — No, Rysenok, «dreaming, one-eyed!» will not work. — Then why do you need such a vacation? By winter? — Well, I would remember the joke about warm beer and sweaty women, but everything is not quite rosy here. I'm going to run to the doctors and... — And? — I got a part-time job. — That's what you said, as if you had something in between a sarcoma and a mummy lover. — I appreciate your humor! But I'm serious. The part-time job is official, you have no idea how much. But in the process, I can merge into a business trip. For a long time. — Is this all the news? Belkin, my superiors are jumping down the corridor! — Well, that's it. Simply… Well, because of my head problems, these are... not good business trips. But very official! Lynx? — What, Valentine? — You remember what we talked about, don't you? I love you. — And I love you... stupid Belkin! Maryska switched off. Should I go and have tea? To open a homemade toy on a computer and at least finish something? Or, after all, go to the doctor?

***

The tests were normal. It pleases me. Lynx didn't come to me, she referred to magnetic storms and a square head. A couple of seizures. It throws you into heat, then into cold, dizziness... I would advise her to measure her blood sugar, but Lynx doesn't have any diabetics. I called Petrovich. Well, what's the point of putting the body on the back burner once again, when this box won't bury itself? They sent a car. I am never happy about their efficiency. Something obviously serious is afoot. Petrovich first sent him to the gym. They chased me there, tried to kick my ass with a plastic gymnastic stick again and plowed me to the arrangement of plywood boards on wheels from office chairs. — Now, — says the coach, — We will do new gymnastics with you. Combined with sports dancing and drill. Fuck it, applications! Remembering how it dawned on me last time that bullfighting with garden tools is the acquisition of skills to severely injure four-legged creatures, I don't know what to think at all now! Well, let's get started. Nothing serious yet. Spin on the spot, abruptly sit down, then on one knee, then squatting (as if you need to shit yourself in a millisecond, according to the coach), stand up with a step back, sit down again, stand up again, but with a step forward or to the side... Nonsense. But our business is veal. Then I began to retreat behind the shields. Also, with elements of masturbation in a squat. The next day, the interesting thing began: I had to walk around the circle of shields from inside and outside with my eyes closed. At first, I just walked around, then I tried to turn around three hundred and sixty degrees at the command in a step. I stumbled, started over. The coach allowed me to peek at the moment of the U-turn. Nonsense! It was still necessary to wave your hands, then forward, then sideways. The pace was fast, but not very much. Some suspicions started when the characteristic cues with the gym mace started. And, I until the last moment did not understand whether prepare me to wave off «in ballet» by cutting a pipe or something. It's just some things were yanking out the «Mako» I have a lot of fucking intimacy with. It's as fake as a porn movie compared to sex, but... Unfortunate comparison. It's like a genius horror movie and meeting a monster in your own doorway. The only difference is that in the latter case, you really die, surprised beforehand. But the fear is real in both cases! Okay, I digress. They didn't drive for a long time, they protected them from some kind of «burnout» or something else. In sessions with a kind hypnotist doctor and magic pills, he taught the device of a homemade grenade. No normal RGN or RGO, just a cast iron pipe with picric acid! By the way, the acid in some kind of package is not pure, but with additives. The fuse is stupid, on an already familiar cartridge, but without gunpowder and with some kind of artisanal retarder, at the same time warming up the contents of the grenade a little. And instead of a detonator, just pyrotechnic composition and cartridge caps. Stupidity? But the thing explodes quite well, as shown in the video. This «learning bad» did not end. Homemade pipe bombs, petrol bombs based on kerosene or dirty alcohol, shotgun mines and «fun rides» from the set of Vietnamese partisans. Here, I almost got hurt. Some things were not just cruel, but some savage. However, it is no more disgusting than napalm tanks and phosphorus bombs flying at the village. In general, rumors that the special services may supervise, if not terrorists, then rebels, are not rumors. Something like that.

***

Damn, the coach just walks around me and sometimes points at me with his finger. I have to point the finger at him at this moment. Naturally, with all sorts of dances and lap dances. I can't imagine what they're trying to put in my head yet.

***

They brought toy pistols with plastic balls. Not airsoft, but real toys with a relatively tight descent. But I had to put on a mask. It's unpleasant when it hits your face, even a tiny bruise can remain. While he was loading six balls into the clips, the coach suddenly asked: — Valentin, have you watched «Equilibrium»? — I watched it. Don't tell me that gan-kata has anything to do with the reality of shootings outside the cinema. — If specialists with assault shields and machine guns are coming at you, then no. And for the capture groups running into the house, this is also utter stupidity... — Then why? — This, if I may say so, «martial art» helps not to be caught. You're either going to run away or you're going to get killed. It is simply unrealistic to take such a «spinner» with pistols alive without special equipment. There is no time to aim his limbs, as he shoots back and spins. You have to hit the silhouette. Accordingly, the probability of a serious or fatal injury goes to a single one. But that's all the lyrics. And now there will be physics. Are you ready? A pioneer with a pistol is like a pioneer without a pistol, but with a pistol. Also always ready.

***

— Twi, what have you decided? — Rarity lost her deliberate mannerisms. Some unicorn baroness of antiquity, upon learning that her husband remained on the battlefield, and the castle had to be prepared for a siege, most likely also stopped turning up her nose and began to order with cold, unyielding politeness. — We're moving on. We must. — Commendable perseverance, — Rarity didn't even allow a hint of a smile. — So, we go out, you destroy the remains of this steamer and all the bones around... Do I understand correctly so far? — Yes. We must definitely... Otherwise... — And then you get hit in the head again by all this magic-shmagic, — Pinkie giggled, — And your head turns into a pumpkin! — And since there's nowhere to hide, we get an unconscious Rarity and a half-dead princess, — Apple Jack added. — Sugar, it affects me too, and I would not like to try to hide somewhere in the middle of the desert in this state, and even with you on my back! I think Flatty is also not eager to choose which of her horny friends to save first. — But... But what makes you think that these phenomena will happen again? Yes, I admit it happened twice, but that doesn't mean anything. — Three, — Fluttershy said. — I went to see the animals, when suddenly it started. You were inside, so you didn't notice. And I had to climb into the ship on foot, the wings didn't work. — Indeed! Even Flatty got a kick out of it while she was... went to see the animals! — Applejack adjusted her hat, which she seemed to take off only before going to bed. Or was it an instinctive desire to protect his head with something? — The piece of iron really protects, — Dash decided, — I overslept this release too. I wake up, and it's already letting go! — I'm really glad he's letting go, — Rarity said. — At least sometimes. But what should we do? If this continues... — Let's think about it... We need a mobile shelter, — The yellow earthling decided to take off her hat, but changed her mind. — Twilight will drag this tub with magic! — Pinkie suggested, jumping up. The deck echoed with a hum. — Outside the locus she has in the Tree, — Rarity said skeptically. — Will the navel not come loose? But the idea is interesting. You can build an iron-sheathed caravan out of various junk and our cart. Enchant the crystals to reduce weight, glue... — It's going to be hard anyway, — Sighed Applejack and shrugged her tired and aching shoulders. — The speed will drop, and we will not have enough water for the return trip. And taking more water would mean making the cart even heavier. This is an option if we go back. — I can't believe that some giant sandbox is beating us! — Rainbow Dash muttered. — If I was properly prepared, I'd be there in a day! — And what would you do there? — Applejack asked. — Well, I would have scouted everything... It was one of the unfunny jokes. — Let's do it, since her stubborn highness doesn't like life without a brain hemorrhage, — Rarity decided. — We will not destroy anything. Thread-needles, Twilight! No-thing! Then tell Celestia about the find and let her figure it out for herself! And we are looking for water and creating a reserve. Yes, in this thrice-decked steamer! Or does this Year's Miss Magic know how to create a glass tank out of sand? One that doesn't burst and leak? No? Then let's all listen further. The cart must be reinforced and sheathed with iron. We will look for suitable materials. Yes, Twi? — Rarity, I appreciate you all, but Princess Celestia... — Has certain desires that are even more valuable. I see, — Rarity rubbed her nose tiredly, not at all aristocratic. — As much as I'd like to spit at your feet and head north, honey, we're in the same boat. Even if this boat can't move at all. Therefore, I will continue. We take our available water with us. Not only did we take an insufficient amount, but we also spent money with this magic storm. You, Twilight Sparkle, by the way, were drunk off. So, after the revision and division of products, we are moving forward. — Why should we divide them? To make me feel better? — Applejack asked. — Almost. We leave here what we won't really need. Let's go, apparently, that's it. We've walked about thirty miles now. There are about sixty-five left to reach the estimated point. We also pass thirty or a little more. Twi is riding in the cart, and we're helping Jackie. The cart will have to be suspended in the air again. As I said, there are large crystals here. Dash will have to remember everything she was taught in the Weather Patrol. It was not enough to overlook the sandstorm. — And then? — Dash was glad she wasn't in danger of the cart. — And then I'm going to look for fabric and sew. Am I a fashion designer or who? — A strappy suit? — I decided to defuse the situation with Pinkie. — Exactly! Rarity thanked the pink ponka with a mannered nod. — For Dash. — What? What's that for? — Well, sugar, your Wonderbolts are in these gon... con... contr... Well, do they fly in tight suits? What makes you worse? — Yes, I am!.. Yes it is!.. These are special costumes! — Dash realized that she had been fucked, but did not understand the way. — And it's going to be a special costume, — Rarity closed her eyes wearily. — You will fly at night, otherwise I have a suspicion that all the horror is happening only during the day. At night, if there is anything, it is weak. So, Dash, you take water and a search crystal with you, put on a suit and a parachute and fly away along the Highway. You fly about thirty or thirty–five miles... — Why does pegasus need this umbrella? — If the wings fail at altitude and at night, you can hit hard on landing and break your leg, — Fluttershy whispered. — It's going to be a little umbrella, Patrolgirl Rainbow Dash, — Rarity unsuccessfully parodied the commanding voice. — Count on the wings! — Ha! I am fourty miles... — No. Thirty-five and you sit down. And you're waiting for the dawn. During this time, you will rest and refresh yourself. In the morning you will start to turn the spiral. And now Twilight will tell you what to look for and what to be afraid of. Twi, ow! — But I'm not sure I can... — We're looking for ruins, — Apple Jack handed over the princess. — Then we need this, what's her name... Last Cent... Light Sand! In! In short, she told me that there was some kind of fortress in the center of Badlands. And there, most likely, lies the reason for this outrage with magic. — Gre-at! — Rarity shifted from one front foot to the other several times, indicating applause. — So Rainbow discovers the ruins, remembers where and how to turn to them from the Highway, and hurries to us! We approach, Twi conjures, and everything is fine. If something nasty comes out of the ruins, we apply the Elements, and everything is fine again. The way back is a well — known thing, and Dash will bring us some water, if anything. — Am I a water carrier for you? — Well, don't bring it. You will explain to the princesses yourself how you left your friends without water in the desert. Dash shuddered and muttered something. — So? — Rarity looked around at everyone with such an expressive look that four out of six wondered if the unicorn had caught something from Fluttershy. — Well, that's fine. Pinkie, who was sitting on some piece of unknown mechanism, looked at the support-grasping surfaces of the hoofs of the front legs. She put one hoof to the other, as if she was doing it for the first time. Ladushki. Where did she get the wrong translation into Stalliongrad in her head? But these are Pinkie!

***

Rer has never sewed parachutes before. Since the pony tent was not needed due to its planned replacement with an iron yurt on wheels, a lightweight and durable tent fabric was used to make a rescue vehicle. Moreover, the inserts made of thick fabric straps had to withstand the weight of the rarity itself. So pegasus will do too. — Oh! — Pinkie, who ran into the wrecked ship's cabin (the only room where there was enough light to work), was scared. — What are you doing?! — I'm checking to see if this thing can withstand our arrogance champion, — Rarity threw another belt over some pipe and tried to hang on to a pair of fabric ribbons. — I was already thinking... — What? — Nothing, I'm sorry. Can I get you something to chew? — Have some sweets and drink, otherwise the horn is already falling off, I'm clacking my scissors experimentally, — The unicorn grinned and quietly added after the pink spot that galloped away. — You won't wait. The desert was definitely a bad influence on everyone. An Applejack was rattling its hardware downstairs. Twilight was also there. Apparently, she connected different-sized sheets of metal from the cladding and equipment with magical diffusion. It is interesting, how then all the earth ponies ships are covered with metal? Moreover, sometimes the frame of the ship is also made of metal... Rarity saw in the harbour and in the open gates of the railway workshops this painful eye and horn noise bright shivering glow, but never interested in different «prostheses of horns and crutches of possibilities» for any earthly and limited by birth. As it turns out now, in vain. The fashion designer sighed. She remembered that she had a unicorn sewing machine at home. But the basis of the unit was not made by unicorns, judging by the brand. Wheels, shafts, drive from pedals to springs, transmission of rotation from the storage mechanism to the machine through a long flexible spring, different seams. The sophistication of mechanics. And Rarity hardly used this miracle anymore. She used another machine, a primitive, with a couple of operating modes, but an insanely convenient electric drive. And in the new typewriter was this: the evidence of the work of the earth’s ponies. The testimony of their minds, which none of the unicorns could see beyond simplicity of manners. Rarity suddenly thought that magic could somehow cover the wizard’s eyes. The unicorn sighed and picked up the needle again with telekinesis.

***

Sandy was looking at Belkin's gun. At the opened cannon. A drop of sweat slid down his cheek, tickling his thin fur. The problem was not to disassemble the murderous unit, but to put everything back together. And smart pony Light Sand doubted that she wouldn't spoil anything. After all, she would have to confess to Belkin, this strange creature, if she met him again. If. «I'm sorry, I hit your shooter, which you saved me, for half a thousand bits». Awesome. Squirrel dog will appreciate. Or break it trying to collect, and then it's stupid to smile and bat your eyes when Valentine with no words, with one glance, asks her, and who, in fact, Discord? Well, it's a little different, but it doesn't matter. Some other pony would have gotten away with something she didn't want, and you can't shoot things like that... Especially those who stunned you, tied you up, then tore you out like an inflatable pony, and in the end also cut your vein, intending to watch you die. How do you change the color and get blown away. You definitely can't shoot at them! So, the trunks came off easily. The closing bracket also gave in perfectly. Sandy even sketched everything. Now... Aha! Thick lid… Pony jumped and was scared when, along with the lid, a wheel with six hammers came loose and crashed onto the table. «How am I going to put this back in?! Belkin will kill me! And he will do the right thing!» — Panic began to beat in Sandy's head. Okay, calm down! And don't even think about the pills. Enough! Try to collect? No, draw it first. The thing is stupider than a revolver, and when fired, it does not hit the leg holding it with gases. The wheel didn't want to fall into place. To pull it off? Turn it off and press it with a lid? And put the bracket back in place! So… There is! And the effort was not excessive, which is an indicator. Does it work? Sandy tried to pull the trigger with the handle of a table knife. Ugh, it won't take long to cut yourself! The butt of the blade? Your Celestia! Mare, take at least a spoon already! Tight. Click! Sandy was delighted. Click-click-click! It's working! Take turns! The drummers beat so sharply that it was almost invisible. Pony let out a sigh of relief. Well, of course, if you don't know that clicking idly can ruin the mechanism... however, not this one. In the manual, it was allowed to flip the barrels and click the trigger to the desired chamber. On the next hammer-trigger, the indented figure of the next barrel was visible through the window in the lid. Sandy understood these numbers, but did not understand what the typically Equestrian markings on the side of the receiver unit were doing. — Wow! Just like real bullets! — Ha! They are the real ones! — Kid, don't talk nonsense! No one would give you the real ones. But they would have given me a grain once. For prevention. — They're real! It's just that they've already fired... — Uh-uh... Can I take a look? Well, to know that you don't have to yell at the whole street, calling for the Guard and your parents? Yeah. But what are these from? — From a g-g-gun! — And these smaller ones? — From le... levover! — Stud... you'd hide these things, wouldn't you? I heard that revolvers are only allowed for the Legion and the Night Watch! I'm serious! Put it in a box and shove it away, just so you know! Come on!.. I think I'll go before I get arrested here with you! — Ha ha ha! You're funny, miss! And you were making history in high school! I saw you at school! — Yes, just once!!! And anyway, they threw paper pigeons at me! — Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!! «Revolvers, then», — Sandy told herself. Now it remains to find these same cartridges. Remember the markings? And then? Light Sand wasn't the stupidest pony and didn't want to go to jail.

***

The next day, the smart pony, who did not want to go to prison, went to a pegasus. He was from the land, did not like the Cloudsdale brotherhood (or was so jealous), but had a shop selling pyrotechnics. For a town where people used to live from mining ores (few), gems suitable for magic (even fewer) and coal (a lot of the same quality that so angered Chrysalis), the presence of all sorts of well-burning and exploding materials was justified. Eventually, diamond dogs appeared here, although no one had ever seen local diamonds. The dogs were hired to dig something up, or they hired ponies themselves to do some work upstairs. In different ways. And the relative friendliness of the underground inhabitants, instead of digging under the bank, post office and warehouses with subsequent looting, was explained by just enough nitroglycerin and gunpowder in total in the city, and not by the Magic of Friendship. Naturally, in such towns, squeezed to a relatively close border with the desert, there was an understanding of what the law says about arms trafficking. Many had it, but no one confessed. There was, of course, the possibility of falling asleep in a dream, but Princess Luna had not yet thought to consistently check each pony from the next horse variant of Ust-Zazhopinsk. And the ponies tried so that the Night Princess did not have to guess to rebuild the mode of the dream walking location. Plus, Her Highness Luna condescended to the unauthorized production of... hmm... «tractor fuel», as long as the «manufacturers» knew a certain measure. And since the measure was set by a rather angry princess according to the scientific principle of visual measurements and metaphysical-theological weighting, it was better to be a little modest with the volumes produced and realized. Including inside. And do not forget to praise Her Darkest Nature while drinking. Sandy was just thinking about the idea that ponies know that princesses know that... yes. And guns. And revolvers. Especially revolvers. But only under a short cartridge. — Good morning, Mr. Strong Cloud! — It's already day, city girl! — Pegasus stubbornly continued not to notice that Dodge City had been a city for a long time. Even before the birth of the winged one himself. But now, he did not notice and divided the inhabitants into real, that is, «village», and «urban» upstarts and idlers. — Okay. Good afternoon, — Sandy didn't argue. — Here's the deal... — Hmm? — The indistinct sound could mean anything from interest to pointing at the door. — You know what I do, right? — Naively smiled at the indeterminate sandy shade of the pony and, without giving pegasus time to come up with an answer that would bury further conversation, explained. — Interesting places from the point of view of archeology for some reason are very far from pony housing and are teeming with various filth. And even other «archaeologists» go there. And I would like to continue writing boring reports after sending another batch of antique junk to the museum. — And what do you want? — I was told that you can help legally get gunpowder weapons. — Are you an archaeologist here? Go on, how does a musket work, you figure it out... — I think attaching a shovel to a musket instead of a bayonet is a so-so idea. And even once may not be enough. — I don't sell revolvers. — And I don't even know if I need a revolver, Mr. Cloud, — Sandy looked into pegasus's eyes. — Can you advise me? — On what subject, o, young miss, is that about to break the law? — I will try not to transgress. Moreover, it is better to be «buried» at the trial, and not in the cemetery, — Sandy grinned. — And the theme is simple: I want to know what is shooting and what I can buy from it. — Wait a minute... — Strong Cloud looked around, but realized that he forced himself to bring the boxes behind the counter while he was distracted by this Light Sand. Pegasus jumped up on the table and planned for the door with a single flap of his wings, only to have the newspaper, which had been forgotten by someone, snatched in the air with a huge butterfly. Strong Cloud looked out the door, locked it, and flipped the tablet. He walked back, remembered the boxes and groaned: — What are you standing for? Come on, help me! The boxes had to be shelved according to a system known only to Mr. Cloud. Various coils of wires in shaggy fabric or crisp lacquer-paper insulation, wooden boxes hiding certain mechanisms, with the exception of a lever sticking out like a Stalliongrad «T», and so on, were extracted from part of the boxes. — I'll get it out of the basement now, — Pegasus muttered, but he didn't invite Sandy with him. Sandy exhaled. — Here! — Pegasus was holding a monumental leather folder and some kind of catalog in his hooves. — My mother is a mare! Do I have to walk up these stairs on my hind legs? Or will you help me? Sandy gasped and helped. The catalog was called «The All-Equestrian collection of fire-fighting and other shooting weapons, available to ordinary ponies». — That's it! — A gray-blue and some kind of steel-colored pegasus with a dirty gray mane and tail and a stylized cloud on the Mark, as in the engravings depicting the battles of sailing ships of the time when griffins roamed the Equestrian shores, flying from their vessels, put the objects on the table and looked sternly at Sandy. — Yes? — Bollocks! — The pony smiled wryly and shouted somewhere behind the counter. — Meg! Give us some tea! The pegasus couple's name was Magic Cloud, which spoke of old-fashioned. No, well, who's going to take part of her husband's name now? Nonsense from the time of Strife! Someone tried to say that Strong married his cousin, but quietly, otherwise Strong Cloud had already promised the jokers that he would blow them up at the funniest moment, and do whatever you want with him, Celestia! To be honest, Meg looked like her husband like Discord looked like kirin. Golden-pink-peach, with a delicate purple mane and tail, she evoked the image of a sunset cumulus cloud. One of those that are not accelerated by pegasus magic, with a flat «sole» and dazzlingly outlined on top, like shining cotton candy. — What, an old, new girlfriend? — Meg stepped out on three legs holding a teapot and winked at Sandy. — It's a possible client! — Strong grew wearily indignant, taking from his wife the cups she had brought on her back one at a time, holding them with her wings raised a little and banging them with spoons. — Yeah, yeah... Sandy was surprised that there were two cups. Previously, she would have asked why the hostess did not want to drink tea with the guests. But after meeting with a squirrel dog... And who told you that the owners will not tea? It's you, girlfriend, will not! — Okay, figure it out here, — It turns out that Meg also hid a sugar bowl under her wing. — Pour it, — Strong said to the earth pony, glancing at his departing wife. — All right... The available cartridges in Equestria did not differ in variety. The ponies didn't have much to shoot at. — This is a revolver, — Strong Cloud deftly tossed a small neat paper cartridge of a frivolous delicate shade, as if it were a fungus, one of those that earth ponies store in brine for the winter. And the dark gray lead-colored oil cap of the bullet sticks out. — Is there a similar one, but longer? — Sandy asked. — Yes, but... here, look for yourself: a sleeve with a noticeable cone, reinforced inside with a copper or brass tube, and the bullet is long. There is a rounded nose, and there is a spindle. This one doesn't lose speed any longer. I will not sell them, because there is a Legion. — And this? — Sandy poked a hoof into a bulging pocket in an open folder. — The jaeger's patron. «A short-sighted monster». For double-barreled rifles. As the next trash from Everfree climbs, so does... — In general, on what principle are they allowed or prohibited? — Anything that can kill a unicorn through a standard shield spell at a hundred jumps or near a guardsman's cuirass is illegal. Here, you see this weighty «pencil» with a thin bronze casing and a sharp bullet? Gryphonium. A rarity. Called «Death of Alicorn». If I lose it, my shop will go to the treasury, and I will be deprived of the right to work with gunpowder! And if they find him at your place, then... They say ponies don't last long in the swamps south of Horseshoe Bay. — And you're not afraid that... — No. This is a sample! They're all here with sand instead of gunpowder. Not stallions, but geldings. Moreover, in a real griffin cartridge, it's all about gunpowder. — And which ones are marked with the letter «otl»? — Sandy remembered a strange icon on the stem block. — How? Oh, these... there is such a thing, — Cloud rummaged in the folder and pulled out a strange cartridge, — On the very, very line, which I would not recommend crossing. — What's wrong with them? — They pierce the unicorn shield half the time when equipped with a special bullet, and at a shorter distance they do it with a regular one. They also carry not enough shot for hunting, but enough to shoot at a drunken jerk climbing through your window. And the result will be with an orchestra, flowers and black veils. And they are also under a smooth trunk. — It? — Sandy pulled a couple of bullets out of the hat next to her. — Like Celestia the Princess! Only... What is this stuff? — Listen to me, Mr. Cloud, — The earth pony looked at Pegasus from under her bangs. — Come on, you won't ask where this comes from in general and me in particular. I'll leave you these... samples. Gut, study, look at the device before these things fall apart. Ideally, if you patent for an assumed name. And I need such cartridges. At least two dozen. And a revolver, but under the usual ones that you can. — Did you dig up something? Sandy nodded: — I found it by accident in the desert. Menya zovut Valentin Belkin! — Okay... Let's take a look at the catalog... The catalog was printed on photographic paper, which not every expensive magazine could afford. The contents were also a match. Felladi revolver, small, five rounds. Inlay. Next... revolver «Colonel Foal», a long barrel (apparently, the other «barrel» is too short, mares squeamish), polishing (exactly!), an amazing fight! Double-barrel pistol (agha, a little griffin «pistol» as they call such things!) rifle manner... What does it mean «for connoisseurs»? For perverts? Next... Some guns. No, cumbersome. Oh! Experimental revolver under a familiar ammunition. Only for those in the service of Their Highnesses or persons assimilated to them. Sandy sighed. The gun was good. — Pick up the drool, — Strong Cloud advised without malice. — I knew you'd get hooked on this. But — no. — Yes, I understand, — Sandy sighed again. — So what should I take to be ready for various surprises? — Head. That's the first thing. And in general, you have enough of that little mare, I just do not know if they make only self-plating, licked and without various engraving-polishing, just crowned. I think if you don't mind shooting some Canterlot official, I'll know in a week if there are any. In extreme cases, you will order a redo. A month or two, and the bullet will be ready. Eight hundred bits. — How much?! — Sandy gasped. — This is a rework, not an invention! — Eight hundred, dear Miss Sand. And I'll have to sort things out with the regularity. As for the bullets, it's... Sixty bits. — And nothing less at all? — The earth pony made a sweet face. — Somehow I wasn't ready... — Bring something else, — Cloud chuckled, — And maybe I'll be ready to cut the price. — All right, — Sandy got up off the couch and put her hat on her head like a rag. — It's sixty now, and then... when I'm ready. Thanks for the tea. — Thanks for the purchase, — Pegasus replied in Sandy's tone. — I'll wrap it up now. And try to be prepared... for your surprises.

***

The bullets came. Amazing. It made me wonder how powerful those behind Belkin were. Sandy was about to put the gun in the bucket, and all of a sudden... the backyard was being picked up by birds. Sandy didn’t spill the beans or build any feeders, but like in the evening, there’s another raging flock falling on the grass, jumping and voting. Sandy spent a day writing an article... The cartridges came up. Surprisingly. It made you think about how powerful those behind Belkin are. Sandy was about to put the gun in the bucket when suddenly... In general, the backyard was chosen by birds from some kind of fright. Sandy did not spill grain there, did not build feeders, but as the evening progresses, some kind of another frantic flock falls on the grass, jumps and screams, it reverberates inside. Sandy spent the day preparing the article... Yes, you cooked it at the gun store! And on the market. And the bangs ran to trim. ...and decided to deal with the patronage issue in the evening. And birds. They interfere. They're talking and shitting. Almost at the place where Sandy... Don't think about it! «I buried the remains of some unfortunate animal», — Said earth pony, convincing herself. Click! A strange sound, as if the unicorn had failed to teleport an object. A bird's desperate hubbub. Sandy shuddered, pulled back the barrels and loaded the cartridges. She snapped it shut. Convulsively, she threaded the rope from the cartridge packaging into the weapon to cover the descent. It is necessary to shoot standing on the hind legs or sitting. She will need two hoofs to shoot while pulling the rope. That was the idea to adapt a thick bent steel wire! She's always running out of time! Sandy quietly opened the door and slipped out. She didn't go through the back door. Scary. She walked three-legged around a house with a tiny palisade, looked around the corner. And she almost screamed. A dark silhouette smeared with blood among the swirling feathers turned to the pony. — Telefrag! Wow! — The creature tilted its head. — Hi, Sandy. Is there any way you can wash and get dressed here? Or are you again?.. — Ah? — Sandy looked at the gun with fright. — Oh... Come inside, I'm going to... He appeared again, fearful and graceful in his bipedal absurdity. And he killed again, barely appearing. An indeterminate mixture of squirrels and a diamond dog, he went into the house and picked up bloody feathers on the floor. Valentine Belkin.