That Play

by Owlor

Act 1.

Maybe the fancy theater was actually just the barn at Sweet Apple Acres decorated with colorful banners and maybe the curtain was a bit tattered, resembling more of a quilt than the elegant silk curtain that hung in Canterlots Royal Center for the Performing Arts but still, the Hearth's Warming eve spirit was high amongst the crowd.

The good mood did take a bit of a toll, however, when the overture started playing and the audience got assaulted by the sound of twelve inexpertly handled brass instruments being played out of tune in unison. The curtain quickly rose, as if attempting to make the audience forget about the torturous opening.

As the lights slowly dimmed, the mayor of Ponyville, dressed in an elegant robe appeared on stage and a bright spotlight chased after her. She noticed this and helpfully slowed down so that the chaotic ray of light could find her properly. As the clumsily-maneuvered spotlight finally found its target and basked her in its light, the mayor kept walking slowly towards the crowd, who were now hushing and shushing each other.

“Once upon a time,” she said, signaling the start off the play. “Long before the peaceful rule of Celestia....” only the most observant ponies could pick up the slightly sarcastic tone she gave the word ‘peaceful’.

”...and before ponies discovered our beautiful land of Equestria, ponies did not know harmony-”

A dissonant chord echoed from the orchestral pit, interrupting the narration. The conductor, a posh mare with an out-of-place elegance about her sighed and threw her hooves up in the air.

“Not that that they are all that great at harmony nowadays. Seriously, do they even teach music theory in school around here?” the gray mare uttered in frustration.

“We've been trough this, Octavia. These are students, not professional musicians. Their music teacher fled... I mean, had other business to attend to, just make sure they do the best they can," the mayor reprimanded, seemingly forgetful that the entire crowd was focused on the two ponies.

Octavia sat back and buried her face in both her hooves. ‘I’m a respected musician, I’ve played at the palace,’ she lamented to herself. ‘Why did I accept this assignment?’

A memory from a week ago entered her mind, one of the grayed mare pleading her with desperate, moist eyes to act as a replacement conductor for her amateur theatre production. Then realization hit her as she gazed up on the mayor and she couldn’t help but blush. ‘Oh, that’s right,’ she reminded herself. ‘I have a thing for older mares.’

“Anyway,” the mayor continued from up on stage. “It was a strange and dark time. A time when ponies were torn apart, by hatred.” She put all the feeling she could muster into an overacted dramatic outburst, but the audience remained cold at her performance.

“Y'know, I was expecting more of a reaction...” The mayor said, trying to guide the audience response.

Some members of the audience gasped politely and the mayor continued. As she spoke, a pair of actors came out from each side of the stage to illustrate her narration.

“During this frightful age, each of the three tribes, the Pegasi, the unicorns, and the Earth ponies, cared not for what befell the other tribes, but only for their own welfare. In those troubled times, as now, the Pegasi were the stewards of the weather. But, they demanded something in return. Food that could only be grown by the Earth ponies.”

One of the actors carried a ridiculously exaggerated cardboard cutout of a carrot which he gave over to the winged pony. The mayor had tried to get real vegetables, but the orange earth pony who grew them had refused to lend any after several of her vegetables ‘mysteriously’ disappeared during last year's pageant.

“The unicorns demanded the same, in return for magically bringing forth day and night.”

The ropes used to hoist the celestial bodies creaked loudly, which did nothing to distract the audience from the very ill-advised cardboard cutouts that served as the sun and moon. The sun was painted bright pink, evidently the paint used had looked much more yellowish when wet. And while the moon had a more down-to-earth color, its shape only vaguely resembled a sickle, if anything, it looked more like a big yellow banana.

When the giant fruit reached its apex, the old rope holding it up finally gave up and snapped. Rather than a spectacular crash, the ‘moon-ana’ hit the ground with a pathetic ‘thump’.

“And so, mistrust between the tribes festered, until one fateful day, it came to a boil. And what prompted the ponies to clash?” the mayor asked rhetorically. To her confusion, a hoof was raised from the audience.

“Uhm, yes?”

“Oooh ah know!” Snails exclaimed from the audience, then he looked like the cogs in his head had just ground to a halt. “Gosh, ah dunno, what prompted tha’ ponies to clash?”

The mayor continued, but couldn’t help but notice that a mulberry-colored pony sitting in the back row had just buried her head in her hooves.

“'Twas a mysterious blizzard that overtook the land, and toppled the tribes' precarious peace.”

The mayor paused, but nothing seemed to happen. Snails still looked like he was trying to process the information given to him.

“I said: a mysterious blizzard,” the mayor said in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Oooh, now ah get it!” Snails exclaimed, but the mayor ignored him, only to focus her gaze upwards.

High above the stage, the other driving force between this year’s pageant, the Cutie Mark Crusaders where balancing dangerously, disregarding completely the safety lines — which lay scattered somewhere backstage — provided by the mayor. They had been the one insisting on the more extravagant attempts at special effects, remembering how awesome the pageant looked in Canterlot last year.

Applebloom was leaning out towards the center of the stage and Scootaloo was standing on top of her with a sack of feathers in her hooves, painfully grimacing as Sweetie Belle pulled her tail to create a counterweight.

With her front hooves, the young Pegasus tried to fumble the bag open. The impatience of the crowd could be felt from all the way up there, and eventually, Sweetie Belle’s patience failed her.

“Are you done yet? This is not very comfortable!” she remarked, letting go of Scootaloo’s tail for a couple of seconds. That was enough for Applebloom to loose balance, prompting her to jerk backwards, nearly shaking Scootaloo off in the process. The Pegasus managed to save herself, but dropped the whole sack of feathers. The bag flopped onto the stage dishearteningly and left only a sorry pile of feathers in the middle of the stage.

“Twist! It’s your turn!” Applebloom shouted loud enough for the audience to hear. The red-headed pony woke up from her daydreams and started trotting on a treadmill that drove a large makeshift fan. Even with the device turned on, the pile of feather refused to move; only the top layer danced around in place, creating a miniature whirlwind. The mayor continued her narration, trying to ignore the special effects failure.

“The normally industrious Earth ponies were... unable to farm their land... ahem...” her speech stalled, as tough she was waiting for a cue.

From up above, the three crusaders watched the play, puzzled by her strange way of speaking.
“You think she’s trying to tell any pony something?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Wait,” Scootaloo said, climbing down from Applebloom’s back and turning to face Sweetie Belle. “Weren’t we supposed to be in charge of the sound effects as well?” The ivory filly's eyes widened for a brief moment before she hastily grabbed a copy of the script and started browsing through it.

“Oh right, we’re in charge of the sound effects too, I forgot.” Sweetie Belle desperately looked around in search for something, anything they could use to create the spooky whiny sound that the needed at this point in the story.

“Don’t worry,” Applebloom said, brimming with confidence. “I Got this! AOOOIIII!” She started yowling loudly and the two other ponies nearly fell of the ledge at this sudden noise.

The mayor sighed loudly from the stage, but she kept on reciting her lines.

“The Earth ponies were freezing. The home of the Pegasi fared no better. The Pegasi were hungry. And the unicorns were freezing and hungry. Even the unicorns' magic was powerless against the storm.”

The script called for more snow, and a secondary bag of feathers came crashing down onto the stage, much like the first one. One of the actors broke down laughing and had to be brought off the stage.

"What am I supposed to do, Octavia?" the mayor asked after quickly galloping towards the gray conductor. "We've managed to completely mess up the play, and we've barely started on the first act! You must help me!" Ivory pleaded, but Octavia merely dismissed her with an elegant gesture.

“Sorry ma’am, you’re on your own, I’m only here to make sure you can hear the actors over the music, its your job to make sure you actually want to hear them.”

“Thanks a lot.” The mayor pouted and Octavia couldn’t help but melt, just a little.

“Hey, don’t fret, trust me, I’ve seen more disastrous beginnings of a theatre production in Canterlot. Once your leading mare’s appear on stage, everypony will forget about these little mishaps.”

The mayors wrinkles multiplied by a factor of ten, and each locked themselves into a worried grimace.

“You haven’t seen my leading mares, have you?”

All the background actors left the stage and it was once again the mayor’s cue to do the narration. She left the orchestra pit where Octavia was currently trying to dislodge a small colt from a tuba, wondering to herself how in Equestria he had managed to get himself in that situation in the first place. The filly owning the tuba came with a few helpful suggestions, but none of them met with approval.

“No, you’re NOT allowed to use your classmate as a mute, it will sound terrible! Oh, and you might also damage the hearing of your dear classmate,” Octavia said, halting her attempts to help the little colt when she decided that the town’s firefighting brigade would probably be more qualified for such job.

"Each tribe blamed the others for their suffering," the mayor continued, striking an elegant pose. "... and the angrier everypony grew, the worse the blizzard became."

This time, the sack of feathers managed to hit one of the extras’ who staggered drunkenly around for a while, then promptly fell into the makeshift orchestra pit. This noise startled the colt in the tuba enough for him to somehow manage to dislodge himself.

Octavia, though famous for her ability to keep the music going trough all kinds of disasters, had to signal for the band to stop in order to remove the unconscious visitor from the box.

"And so it was decided that a grand summit would be held to figure out a way to cope with the blizzard."

“Well, here goes nothing,” Ivory muttered to herself as her mind repeated ‘everything is going to be fine’ over and over again like a mantra.

Miraculously, Octavia managed to reassemble the orchestra right on cue and they played a dignified fanfare... then the music got accompanied by strange raspy noise, as if somepony was rocking the record back and forward on a turntable. A second record started playing and instead of the dignified fanfare, the audience got treated to an energetic techno remix.

“Daughter of the unicorn king, Princess- what the hay is going on?!” the mayor blurted out.

Somebody had evidently stolen a smoke machine, because a white cloud was forming from backstage. Out of the cloud a lightly yellow unicorn pony appeared, her hair glistening with neon highlights under the stage lights. ‘I specifically told Vinyl notto take liberties with her own entrance, does nothing get trough to that mare?’ the mayor thought to herself as she buried her face in her hooves. Again.

“AWWW YEAH! What's up party ponies?” Vinyl Scratch announced as the sub-woofers she had brought on stage bombarded the audience with her obnoxious music.. “DJ- I mean, Princess Platinum is in DA HOUSE!”

Her small, but devoted fanbase in the audience cheered, but the rest of the crowd just looked dumbfounded at the strange choice of actress.

Thankfully for the mayor, the bass quickly died and the classroom band began playing another round of fanfares, prompting Ivory to carry on with the introductions.

“Ruler of the Pegasi, Commander Hurricane.”

Above the stage, the cutie mark crusaders found a shivering gray ball with wings. Scootaloo climbed closer, not sure who — or what — was hiding up in the rafters, but eager to investigate.

“Derpy! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on stage!” Derpy unfolded herself from her crouching position and looked over to Scootaloo with wide eyes.

“St-t-tage f-fright,” Derpy blurted out. "I d-d-don't think I c-can do this..." She hastily looked around, giving a little yelp as her gaze fell over the crowd. The other two cutie mark crusaders inched closer.

“Aww, don't be like that,” Applebloom said. “We've seen you at rehearsals, you were pretty good.”

"Really?" Derpy asked the trio, a trace of faint hope glimmering on her eyes. To this, the three fillies exchanged glances; neither of them wanted to tell the truth.

“Yeah...” Sweetie Belle said. “Or at least not worse than the other actors. So put your helmet on and get down there!”

“You're right!” Derpy said with new-found courage. She took the costume helmet she had been hugging and, with a very determined look, put it on her head... backwards. She staggered for a while and then promptly fell down onto the stage.

“First we dropped the bags, now we're dropping the actors!” Applebloom remarked.

“At least it's a somewhat fitting entrance for Commander Hurricane,” Sweetie Belle said to Scootaloo, but she just made a dismissive gesture in reply.

“Meh, Rainbow Dash was better,” she opined smugly.

The three fillies' ears perked up when a deafening noise was heard from the orchestra pit, like somepony was doing unspeakable things to an entire flock of ducks.

“I don't get it!” Octavia exclaimed to the little colt before her. “How do you manage to play a frigging kazoo out of tune?!”

“... leader of the Earth ponies, Chancellor Puddinghead!” the mayor blurted out, accepting the fact that the play couldn't possibly get any worse than the disaster it already was.

From behind the stage, Mr. and Mrs. Cake were whispering softly to each other.

“... you'll do fine dear,” Mr. Cake said, placing a comforting hoof on his wife’s shoulder. “Just remember to be careful with the pudding.”

“Alright if you say so,” Mrs. Cake replied as she nervously trotted up the scene.

Ivory Scroll waited until all three main actors were on stage before continuing.

“Perhaps the three tribes could finally settle their differences, and agree on a way to get through this disaster, and perhaps the three actors will stick to the script!!” The mayor added under her breath.

The three ponies sat down around a table and almost immediately the ponies began to argue. Derpy had apparently overcome her stage fright, or maybe her natural sense of imagination took over as she allowed herself to immerse into the role.

“All I wanna know is why the Earth ponies ate all the muffins!” she shouted while stomping on the oak table with a forehoof.

“Food,” the mayor helpfully whispered.

“Oh. All I wanna know is why the food ate all the muffins!” she corrected herself.

“No, hogged all the food.”

“All I wanna know is why the hogs ponied all the food!”

“Close enough,” the mayor decided.

“We're not hogs!” Mrs. Cake exclaimed. “I mean, we're not hogging all the food! We are just keeping it because you Pegasi keep making it snow.”

“It wasn't us, I swear! It was the unicorns with their magic, please give us the muffins!”

“How dare you!” Vinyl shouted, stomping hard with both forehooves on the table. “This is a drug-free establishment, I'd never... oh, you're talking about the freaky blizzard thing?”

“Yes!” Mrs. Cake and Derpy said in unison. The former had her eyes wide in surprise, unable to process what Vinyl has just mentioned, whilst the latter kept her innocent smile, oblivious to the glaring mistake.

“Oh yeah, that wasn't us," Vinyl said before shrugging.

“Well, if nopony wants to tell who made the blizzard,” Mrs Cake said with a sneaky tone, “Then neither of you get any pie!”

“Me! It was the Pegasus ponies that made it!” Derpy confessed.

“Don't listen to her, this is clearly unicorn magic,” Vinyl Scratch admitted. “Oh, and do you have any custard?”

The Mayor nudged Cup Cake slightly.

“Stick to the script, Mrs. Cake,” she demanded. Cup Cake smiled sheepishly towards her.

“Oh right, well, if the non-earths won't stop freezing us with this blizzard, then I'm out of ideas-”

“So,” Derpy said, gleaming with anticipation, “when will we get the pie?”

“They didn't let me bring it on stage,” Mrs. Cake admitted. “Not after what happened at the rehearsal.”

“Hey, featherduster, stop insulting the fair lady!” Vinyl Scratch roared.

“I never insulted anyone you... you... narwhal!” Derpy shot back, scrunching her muzzle.

“Chillax, missy, I'm just trying to stick to the script.”

The mayor stood by the sidelines, holding up a neatly typewritten page.

“Vinyl, the word 'featherduster' isn't in the script, and neither is the word 'chillax'.”

“Ever heard of ad-libbing?”

“Ever heard of 'acting'?”

Derpy had obviously picked up on the fact that they where supposed to argue, but the script failed to mention what they where supposed to argue about, and she stumbled trough her improvised lines.

“You... your hair is weird, your music is dumb and your sunglasses look stupid.” That last insult apparently struck a nerve.

“Hey, nopony disses the shades!”

“Well, nopony disses my muffins!” Derpy muttered, folding her forehooves and giving out a mock ‘harrumph’.

“Nopony is dissing your muffins, Derpy,” Mrs. Cake said in a reassuring tone. “Uhm, Commander Hurricane, I mean.”

“Exactly! You hear that, Princess Patina, nopony disses my muffins!” Derpy continued and the conversation went the way of a train derailed by a quarter. The mayor’s left eye was starting to twitch uncontrollably and she had to stop herself from simply shouting at the top of her lungs.

“That's it,” she announced, throwing the script page up in the air. “I'm out of here!”

“Wait, you can't leave,” Mrs. Cake said, sticking a forehoof out to her. “You're the narrator!”

This apparently reminded Vinyl of their place in the script and she got up from the ground with a snooty expression on her face.

“That's right, I'm leaving! This meeting isn't going well at all.”

“Hey, ladies first you know!” Mrs. Cake said, finally channeling Chancellor Puddinghead.

“I am a lady!” Vinyl reminded her.

“MAKE WAY!” Derpy declared and sped towards the door at full tilt, promptly crashing into the other two actors, sending them hurling trough the prop door. The crowd laughed uproariously, surprised how quickly the somewhat dry play had turned into a pantomime. The mayor was left alone on stage, hastily signaling for the curtain with a circling motion of her hoof.

“Fine, the blizzard rages on, yadda yadda, next scene!”

The curtains came down and the band played a lighthearted jazzy tune for the intermission. The tune suddenly stopped however as Octavia had to stop one of the fillies from using her violin as a slingshot. As the music died out, the audience was able to hear some sounds coming from the backstage.

“Get away from me! I gotta get away from here!”

“Ivory, get a grip on yourself! We can't do this without a narrator and it's too late to back out now.”

A few incoherent screams were heard, then a new voice entered the conversation.

“If it's strength you need, I can provide. I have potions in which strength reside. If you apply this soothing balm, I guarantee it'll make you calm.

“Gimme that!” The sound of a cork coming lose was heard, followed by a quick succession of clunking sounds

“Don't be so careless with the medicine that you get,” the rhyming voice scolded. “It’s liniment, you're not supposed to drink it!”

The curtain rose again and the mayor returned on stage with a new-found positive disposition, courtesy of Zecora's anti-anxiety potion. She beamed a drunken smile to the audience before Octavia reminded her of her line. The mayor quickly became serious and coughed lightly.

“Where was I... oh! So the summit of the tribes did not turn out as well as hoped, and the three leaders returned to their homes... where they read the script and decided to be serious for once.”

“We did?” Derpy asked Vinyl from behind the stage.

“I made no such promise,” the DJ replied.

“There you are, Derpy!” A voice called out from behind her. “Come on, we're supposed to be on stage.”

“I'm coming, Cloudchaser!” Derpy replied and they both trotted up on stage, only to find that it was still dressed up as the great hall.

“We forgot the clouds!” Scootaloo lamented from above the stage. “Sweetie Belle, weren't you supposed to bring those?”

“Do I look like a pegasus to you?” Sweetie Belle protested, gesturing to Scootaloo’s small wings.

“Oh, right...”

“Don't worry,” Applebloom replied. “We still have a bag of feathers!”

“Close enough, I guess.” Scootaloo said and flopped the content of the bag onto the stage.

Down below, Derpy was getting into character, or rather, into her over-the-top interpretation of the character.

“Ten-hut, forward march, about step, one two three four one two free four sugarplum fairy sugarplum fairy...”

“Derpy!” Cloudchaser shouted.

“Oh, that's right, my line! Attention soldier!”

Cloudchaser sighed and reluctantly went into character herself.

“Hi, Commander Hurricane....”

“Is that the way to talk to your superior, soldier?”

Cloudchaser groaned.

“No, Commander Hurricane...”

“Aren't you curious to know how the summit went?” Derpy asked. Cloudchaser snorted sarcastically.

“Lemme guess, you rambled incoherently about muffins throughout the whole meeting and nopony got anything resolved?”

“NO! Well, yes, but that's beside the point! Those other tribe leaders are foals! Don't they realize that we are mighty tribe warriors? READY THE BATTLE MUFFINS!”

Cloudchaser ignored her co-star and muttered to herself.

“I was supposed to play Commander Hurricane, what the hay happened?”

“Maybe they just found a better actor,” Derpy replied smugly.

“Maybe they just found somepony willing to sleep with the mayor for the role...” Cloudchaser remarked, giving Derpy a cruel glance. Derpy's simulated fighting spirit turned into quite real anger towards the white-haired Pegasus.

“You take that back!” she yelled.

“Make me!”

The curtain fell down prematurely and the audience was able to see the blurry shadows of a pair ponies trying to separate the two actors.

When the curtain rose again, they had moved on in the story. Vinyl Scratch was standing on stage together with Lyra Heartstrings. The background was at least completely changed this time, showing a cheap approximation of Princess Platinum's lavish palace. Lyra was standing at something that looked surprisingly like a bar disk.

“Clover the Clever! Come over here, I need you!” Vinyl called out to her.

Lyra took out a bottle from underneath the desk along with a metal shaker and a soda can.

“One ciderbomb coming right up, miss!” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Thank you...” Vinyl began, but then stopped herself. “On second thought, no, we don't need another drunk pony in this show.”

Lyra put the drink material back under the desk and turned towards Vinyl.

“Did the other pony tribes see reason as I predicted?” she asked the DJ, playing her role with a casual naturalness.

“If by 'reason' you mean 'incoherency and baked goods', then yes. How do you argue against somepony who's completely insane?”

“I ask myself the same question every day, your highness,” Lyra said as the curtain fell on the scene.

Mrs. Cake looked worriedly at her co-star, who had discovered the liquor under the bar disk.

“Uhm, Berry, do you really think its a good idea to drink...”

“Shaddap, I told you, I get shtage frights,” Berry Punch said in between chugs. “Thish helpsh!”

She leaned back to take another swig off the bottle, but lost balance and fell backwards onto a prop table. Ivory came out from behind the stage, wearing a pitiful expression.

“Ladies and gentlecolts, she said to the audience. “We interrupt this pageant for a brief public service announcement. Alcohol is is harmful to your health and can seriously impair your judgment, like making you think you can act.”

“You're the one th'talk,” Berry Punch remarked, trying to point a hoof towards the blurry, duplicated mayor. “Not even I drink Zecora's liniment.”

“It was an accident!” the mayor shouted, then she gestured to the burly stagehoofs. “Get her off the stage, and try to get her to sober up, I'll fill in for her for this scene,” she said as the two ponies carried the drunken mare away.

Ivory Scroll waited for Berry to leave the stage completely before she turned towards Mrs. Cake. “So Chancellor, how did the meeting go? Chancellor?”

Mrs. Cake looked around hesitantly, not knowing what to do with the situation.

“You told us not to argue with the narrator,” she said weakly.

“I'm not the narrator, I'm Smart Cookie, your secretary.”

“Oh, alright then,” Cake said and perked up. “The meeting didn't go well, but I have an idea. We'll just go somewhere where we can grow food and don't have to worry about blizzards or meddling non-earths.”

“Sounds like an-”

“Hey, that'sh not me,” Berry Punch shouted as she galloped onto the stage, having evidently escaped the grip of the stagehoofs. “Thatsh an imposhtor!”

“What?” the mayor exclaimed. “No, for this scene, I am you.”

“Balderdash, you're a changeling!” Berry accused, having a hard time standing on her hind legs to point at the mayor.

Nopony could fault Berry’s talent for improvisation at least, and Ivory decided to resign.

“Oh I might as well just play along,” she muttered to herself. “No, youare the changeling, or possibly a spysent by the other tribes.”

“No, you're the spy!”

“Am I a spy or a changeling?” the mayor asked, unimpressed by Berry’s drunken logic. “Make up your mind!”

Mrs. Cake looked from one pony to the other, utterly confused by the new direction the scene took. She decided to try and end this as quickly as possible and from underneath her hat, she took the pie she had smuggled in for Derpy and Vinyl and held up like a weapon.

“Alright, who's the real smart Cookie?” Cup Cake demanded. “Speak up!”

“I AM!” Berry and Ivory yelled in unison.

The two Cookies exchanged glances. Berry Punch had a dangerous look in her eyes.

“Blast us both,” she demanded. “It's the only way!”

“No, wait, I was just-” Ivory protested, but before she got finished, Cake had already thrown the pie and she got drenched in chopped apples and crust.

“Alright that's enough, the two ponies go on to find a new land, next scene!” Ivory screamed in annoyance.

“Hey, that was supposed to be our pie!” Derpy protested form behind the scenes.

“Hey, that whole idea of trying to find a new land was a pretty awesome idea, why didn't we think about that?” Vinyl commented.

“We did think about that, we're supposed to have the same idea,” Derpy explained.

“Whoa, spoiler alert!”

“Didn't you read the script?” Derpy asked her.

“I read it before each scene, I don't wanna spoil the ending!”

Derpy gave the unicorn a quizzical look, but before she could say anything, she was interrupted by the mayor.

“Derpy, it's your scene!” she called out from the stage. “I hope you've apologized and made peace with Cloudchaser.”