[Pam] stopped and held up a hand. “Listen,” she said. “What’s that?” The girls stood still and listened. Anna heard a faint meow. “It’s a cat,” she whispered. [She smiled. Her smile was far redder than the blood, and far colder than the snow.] [——— “—while wearing a powdered wig. And finally, number six hundred and sixty six: embezzlement.” Dirk closed the book, tucked it into his back pocket, and looked at Acorn. “Truly, an impressive and intimidating list of sins.” Betancourt shook her head sadly. Minos looked solemn; he wasn’t even shitting, which is kind of his gimmick, so you could tell he meant business. “Are we ready to make a ruling?” Dirk asked. Acorn reared up on his hind legs and whinnied tempestuously at the three arbiters lined up in front of him. “One fucking moment, don’t I get to say anything in my defense?” “Weren’t you listening to my whole big thing about speech and writing?” Dirk asked, obviously annoyed. “‘Grapheme vs. phoneme’ and all that? Do you really think speech holds any power in the world of a text? What is written is; what is said vanishes instantly if there is no one to record it, like invisible water off the ass of an invisible duck. And we’re done recording you.” Acorn seemed ready to argue, but Minos held up one of his adorable little white paws to stop him. “Dirk is right,” Minos said. “He may be a pretentious douche, but he’s right. We, the three arbiters of the afterlife, have heard the evidence. And now we must decide what your fate shall be.” “Not so fucking fast!” a girl’s voice shouted from the distance. Acorn’s ears instantly twitched up. Could it be? It could in-goddamn-deed. The trees of the dead forest behind the arbiters shuddered. Dirk, Jeanne, and Minos turned around and nervously stepped back. The bone-white trees swayed wildly in the windless air, and then violently uprooted themselves, floated weightlessly in the air for a breathless moment, and hurtled to either side with savage force. Through the newly-parted pass, silhouetted by a blinding, otherworldly glow behind them, walked two girls and a town. Jeanne Betancourt squinted into the blinding light. “Are those…” “That’s right,” said the girl leading the way. The bright light faded and the three walked into view, posing like a team, and looking like complete badasses. Anna Harley stood at the mouth of the gorge she had just carved into hell and grinned triumphantly. “We’re the motherfucking Pony Pals. And we’re here to fuck. Shit. Up.”] #DetectivePony
Really hoping the Pony Pals get to hug or something before theyre ripped apart forever