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Post by Jewel on Mar 31, 2005 22:22:15 GMT -5
The bulky blue police pony proudly led in his newest (and one of his only) criminal in custody. The gray masculine mare was shackled around all the ankles, and able to walk at a slow, ambling pace. Perfect for keeping up with an out-of-shape Moe.
Whistling the theme to "Gilligan's Island," the stallion swung open one of the only two cell doors, and escorted Coon into it. He clanked the door back in place, locking it with one of only a few keys on a metal ring. He then nodded with a smile and moseyed over to his clutter of a desk. Mostly, it was bowling magazines, or memorobilia from one of his favorite ancient TV shows.
After a moment of basically looking busy, Moe finally found the item he had been adamantly searching for all along. Flipping open the white lid of the box, Moe licked his lips at the prospect of the contents. Cotton Candy Cafe's pastries were not to be challenged!
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Mar 31, 2005 22:27:35 GMT -5
Coon Skin was all smiles and grins all the way on the trip 'down town'. Once out of the public eye, here face more or less dropped to one of indifference. For a time, that even fell into boredom, at least until she engaged in the sport of Moe watching. Once he'd descovered his box of pasteries, Coon couldn't contain her laughter.
It was just so freaking stupid. Her jailor was a complete moron! She would be busting out of this joing in no time with high ho silver over there. With a content, smug grin, she made herself comfortable on the stiff cott in her cell. All she had to do was be patient...
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Post by Jewel on Apr 2, 2005 1:46:40 GMT -5
Once a few choice pastries had been devoured, Moe licked the remaining sugar from his lips and sighed contentedly. Then he faced a familiar problem: his white-blazed hooves were covered in powdered sugar and a few sprinkles.
For a moment, the stallion looked from side to side, debating what to do about this predicament. Maybe if he wiped them on his flanks...
When he was sure his prisoner wasn't looking, Moe tried to rub off some of the excess on his flanks as he sat, whistling innocently. White hoofprints now dotted his legs. Great.
By now he'd have to make a dash for the restroom. But his stash would be left in the open! That wouldn't do. Eagerly watching Coon's every move, for she might very well try to steal these lovely pastries!, Moe reached around his desk blindly, looking for a hiding place. He found the potential spot in a drawer that was supposed to contain important documents, but only held Cafe menus at this time. With a few rushed, awkward and clumsy movements, the pastries were well hidden, the stash safe.
Now the restroom. Moe quietly picked up the ring of keys in his mouth, and glanced at Coon. He inched his chair close to the far end of his desk, then, in as fluid a movement as a pony such as Moe could make, he ran for the restroom, promptly shutting the door behind him.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Apr 2, 2005 20:28:21 GMT -5
Coon continued to watch intently through the corner of her naturally masked eyes. It was amusing. Truly amusing. Originally Coon Skin assumed that they day she finally would be caught (as it was probably and certainly not impossible to be) that she would feel deminished, hollow, angry. Currently it was exactly the oposite. Perhaps it was denail, thought Coon strongly believed Moe had a big hoof in that.
Tell my this guy is not for real. As he began to wipe absently on his flanks. Coon clicked her tongue silently to the roof of her mouth in an attempt to contain a snicker. And I thought I'd never like a cop...maybe there is a cure for this phobia thieves have of them.
Just as Moe was taking his leave, Coon dropped up from the cott the moment the door was shut behind him. Instantly she lifted her left back leg and reached under the hoof. With a quick pull, and ahesive strip of duck tape came off, and concealed on it's sticky side was a professional lockpick. Silently, and with speed, the thief began to pressure herself to hit the lock trigger.
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Post by Jewel on Apr 11, 2005 20:42:39 GMT -5
As Coon was doing her best to break out of the cell, Moe emerged from the restroom, clean and powder-less.
With barely a glance at Coon, he sauntered back over to his desk and sat down, causing the chair to creak. After clearing his through audibly, he proped up his legs and looked over at the thief.
"So.. how does one go about being a raccoon-pony anyways?"
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Apr 11, 2005 20:59:38 GMT -5
Coon looked up, frozen and tense as Moe came in, sat down, and COMPLETELY ignored the fact she was in the middle of busting herself out. She was certain she'd suffer some form of punishment, at least him swiping away her lock picking set. This...this was certainly something new.
"Well...," Coon Skin tested the waters with a slightly cautious voice. Her hoof began ti juggle again at the tools in the lock. "First you need to make sure you have the look down. The mask, the monochromatic color scheme. You know."
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Post by Jewel on Apr 11, 2005 21:39:09 GMT -5
"Interesting," Moe nodded, rubbing his chin. "So, you dye yourself like a raccoon?" He asked, curious yet skeptical. "I thought you said your father was a racoon?"
And so Moe contined, ever confused..
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Apr 11, 2005 21:59:00 GMT -5
Coon forced herself with practiced, professional restraint not to jiggle her lock pick, or to try and do everything as fast as she could. Fast movements attracted the eye, and if she could unlock the door, she could merely let it sit long enough until Moe left or fell asleep to make her escape. She was almost scotch free...
"Correct, good sir," a little flattery couldn't hurt, "My father looked very much like a raccoon, you see. I take after my father quite a bit." A pleasent, proud grin.
It was on a hair trigger. Coon could feel it in her bones. Just a little more...
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Post by Jewel on May 9, 2005 19:11:40 GMT -5
"Was he a criminal too?" asked the blue police pony, though not in a way one might expect. While it may have easily been said in a sarcastic, condescending tone, Moe's was simply of naive curiosity.
Walking closer to the door of the cell, the blue pony sighed. "I haven't seen my parents in months, "And even then, they sometimes call me Skipper, and I don't know why," the heavy blue stallion for whatever reason never made the connection to the show he was well, obsessed with. Moe continued to drone on about parents and Gilligan and such, leaning heavily on the cell's door, forcing the lock back in place and otherwise, inadvertently ruining Coon's work.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on May 9, 2005 19:28:59 GMT -5
It took all of Coon's will power not to utter the loudest curse she could at the idiot's luck Moe just had. Breathing deeply, and trying to remain as calm she could in the situation she was in, tried her best to answer the other's question.
"My father's one of the best," she boasted. He had taught her everything she knew. It was just an ironic shame that he was in jail as well. At least he got caught for a being heist and I'm in here for just petty theft. What sort of a legacy am I leaving my family?
"Well, Skipper, I don't suppose you'd mind sharing one of those pastries you got there?," Coon replaced her dark thoughts with her usual charming self. She may as well schmooze off as much free food as she could.
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Post by Jewel on Jun 23, 2005 21:49:08 GMT -5
"Well, Skipper, I don't suppose you'd mind sharing one of those pastries you got there?,"
It was at this point that Moe realized just how dangerous a criminal he really was dealing with here. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he stared wide-eyed at Coon. He took a step back, large behind bumping into his desk. He known she'd stolen, probably committed even worse crimes, but now..
She wanted his pastries.
"Y-you stay right there!" Moe stuttered, as if Coon could move about as she pleased.
"Don't.... Move...."
The large blue pony hunched behind his desk, blue eyes peering over the top. One ear flicked at a time as he watched her intently, waiting for her move. After a few seconds, a feathered white-splashed hoof reached up and seized the box of pastries, hiding them from the convict's sight.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Jun 23, 2005 21:57:34 GMT -5
You have gotta be... Coon's mind trailed at just the enormity of Moe's...well, Coon Skin just couldn't think of the word to accurately describe his behaviorisms (she did live her life in the woods of a valley, not much but a bit of ignorant hics there).
Hell, she may as well get some kicks out of it. Menacingly she stretched her hooved through the bars of her door as far as they could go. "Ooooh I'm comin' to get you and you're jelly filled doughnuts, too!"
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Post by Roxanne on Aug 10, 2005 17:38:44 GMT -5
(Oh my god, you guys, I can't believe I didn't read this until now!
This is freaking HILARIOUS... oh my god.)
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