//------------------------------// // S1E18: The Show Stoppers // Story: My Little Pony: Bureaucracy is Politic // by swirlstar //------------------------------// Season 1 Episode 18 - The Show Stoppers The Mayor's Office, Ponyville The Agenda: 1. Arranging Lunch with Filthy Rich [ ] 2. LONG TERM - Break the Power of the Apple Family Win Election! [ ] "So," Secretary for Administration Crimson Ribbon mentioned, as Mayor Mare made a few ancillary notes to the agenda in front of her. "You've buried the hatchet with the Apples." "Well," the Mayor responded off the cuff. "Seeing that I've broken their nefarious monopoly over Ponyville's land, obviously we don't have much cause for argument any longer." "Indeed," the gray stallion replied diplomatically, even though he already knew the real behind-the-scenes story. "It is quite interesting how eager the Appaloosans were to snap up land in Ponyville. You'd have thought that they would be more interested in their new town... " "Whatever floats their boat, I guess." Mayor Mare brushed her subordinate's challenge aside. "In any case, election times are near, and we need to start thinking about getting re-elected." "You mean, you have to start thinking about getting re-elected," Crimson Ribbon corrected the tan mare, not without an air of smug superiority. The politician shot him a displeased glare. "I'm still a bit hurt over how you continued to help Mr. Side while I was in jail." "But Ma'am," the bureaucrat gave a semi-apologetic bow. "We're the bureaucracy. We are not a political organization. You must have read the Constitutional Codex by now... " "I'm in no mood for this pedantry," the tan mare huffed. "Anyway, as I was saying, I need to raise election funds in order to win. So arrange a meeting with Filthy Rich, please." Crimson Ribbon shook his head. "Ma'am, that's a political matter. I can't- " "No no no," the Mayor quickly interrupted. "Those were two separate sentences: I need to raise election funds. I need to arrange a meeting with Filthy Rich. Obviously, we won't be discussing anything election-related. For sure." The bureaucrat broke out into an understanding smile. "In that case, I shall do your will at once," he bowed. * Ponyville Schoolhouse, Ponyville Overtime again at the schoolhouse. Cheerilee eyed the pile of paper in front of her with unabashed irritation, unwilling to begin this sadistic task. Like I could give a flying flank about Equestrian geography, myself. She thought of bringing the whole load back home. Perhaps she would be more motivated there than in this silent, empty room, warm rays from the setting Sun speaking softly to her: come on... it's so comfortable... just a little shut-eye... juuust a little... come on... "Shut up," the schoolteacher scolded herself. There was nothing left to it: flicking her cherry blossom mane to one side, clearing her throat loudly and clearly, Cheerilee, in one well-practiced move, slickly drew the top paper from her pile and smoothed it onto the desk surface. How Rock are foRmde Snails This is going to be a looong evening. Quill in one hand, geography textbook in another - surely nopony could expect her to know everything she had to teach! - the violet pony began this arduous journey. Why do I have to learn this How Weather Works in Equestria by Scootaloo Where do Trees Grow Good Applebloom Zonal Distribution in Cities According to the Hooft Model by TutoringFillies Silver Spoon Ponyville's educator scribbled down yet another set of comments in red ink, silently fuming at the futility of her work. Who reads this stuff anyway? But, at least, another piece of paper could be carelessly shunted to one side. Cheerilee drew another essay from the stack, cursing as she did so. Is this supposed to be bottomless? A couple of hoofsteps loudly announced their entry into the schoolroom. "Thank you, Mr. Broom," the schoolteacher addressed the cleaner in monotone, head still buried in pure tedium. "What, so you think I'm the garbagepony now?" a shrill, annoying voice reared its head in response. Cheerilee's ears twitched. She had long since run out of mental editing equipment. Instinctively, the normally gentle teacher slammed her hoof on the table, fast flying into a stressed-out tantrum. "Now just who the hay do you think you- " She turned and saw two ponies at the door. Diamond Tiara and Filthy Rich. Her temper suddenly dissipated. "-are... oh, Mr. Rich, I truly apologize!" she scrambled to her hooves to meet the parent. The industry magnate imperiously swept past the pink-maned teacher. Two bodyguards followed behind him and his daughter, drawing two chairs out from the neatly-arranged schooldesks and placing them in front of the teacher's table. Thanks for asking, the violet pony thought acidly. Cheerilee nevertheless broke out into a forced smile. "How can I help you or Diamond Tiara today, Mr. Rich?" The tan stallion's eyes narrowed. "Diamond here tells me that she didn't win 'Best Comedy' at the Show." Uh oh. "Um... Mr. Rich, the- " "Why didn't she win." The oligarch wasn't really interested in explanations. "Perhaps, Mr. Rich, the judges-" - meaning me - "thought that the Crusaders were better... " "They couldn't have!" Diamond Tiara wailed. "I got Mane Hook to write my stuff!" You mean, he allowed you to reuse those same-old gags for your performance. "I apologize, but- " "Look here, Miss," the moneybags leant in as the violet mare leant out. He smelt of expensive cigars and even more expensive champagne. "My daughter needs to get into Foxtrot Academy. The other ponies don't." Cheerilee squeezed her legs together, bidding herself not to do or say anything rash. "The award's already been given, Mr. Rich- " "Don't make this difficult," Filthy warned. Diamond Tiara followed it up with a pained and guilt-inducing sniffle. Don't force my hoof, Filthy! The violet pony lowered her head menacingly. "I've already given the award, Mr. Rich." "I'm giving you the chance to end this painlessly," the magnate warned. "Diamond's my baby, and I'll do anything to make sure she gets the best start in life." The schoolteacher knew all the tales and legends about Filthy's hold on Ponyville. But her mom, at least, had the excuse of being Mayor of Ponyville. Cheerilee herself, a public-sector employee, had little reason to surrender to his dark powers. "I'm sorry," the pink-maned pony repeated again, hours of frustration boiling up within her. "But Ms. Tiara here simply wasn't good enough." The two adults glared at each other, speechless. Cheerilee prayed that the legends about his death squads weren't true. The wealthy pony perceived that he was stalemated. The schoolteacher's position, however, could be easily flanked. "You'll regret this, Cheerilee," he said, kicking back his chair and storming out of the room, hoof firmly grasping onto his little crybaby's. * The Mayor's House, Ponyville Cheerilee decided to bring her work back home the next day. But, as she had predicted, curling up in the couch with a copy of Seabiscuit: An Equestrian Legend turned out to be a more tantalizing proposal. Besides, her mom was nagging her. "I can't believe you refused to give the award to him!" Mayor Mare chided from the upstairs bathroom. "Filthy kept on droning about it for the entire meeting!" The violet pony flipped through the pages, seeking out the exciting bits. "I don't get it. Can't he just buy his way into Foxtrot?" The politician wasn't listening. "Argh, darn hairs, just turn gray already! ...look, Cheerie, just give him the award! How hard can it- " "No, mom," the teacher looked up the staircase. "The whole of Ponyville may be used to his flank-smell, but I'm not giving him anything." "Urgh!" the (currently) pink-maned matriarch grumbled in defeat. "You and your liberal ideas... should never have sent you to Phalia State... " Cheerilee engrossed herself in Seabiscuit's epic struggle against War Admiral. "Look, Cheerie." Mayor Mare eventually tried another tack. "If Filthy's filly doesn't get the award, he's not going to give any money to my campaign! Do you really want to hurt your poor mom like that?" No response. "Lyra's not good for Ponyville at all," the tan mare continued. "You think we'd have lived through all those disasters under her mayorship?" "You have the Apples on your side!" the educator was getting fed up with the incessant buzz. "You'll definitely be voted back in!" "No, because Lyra's going to have all the money and all the resources!" the Mayor stomped the floor impatiently. "They're going to try all sorts of stupid tricks and gimmicks to wipe dirt all over me!" No response. "Cheerie?" Still no response. The politician opened the door, staring down the landing. "Cheerilee!" "I'm going to bed," a voice behind her declared. "Night." The door shut, the lock uncharacteristically clicking into place. The Mayor let out a loud snort of annoyance, determined to find a way to sidestep the teacher's petty antics. "That little horse." * The rays of Celestia's sun streamed in through the open windows. Creaking and stretching her limbs, the Mayor shook her dreams away, sliding gently onto the ground. Another day in Ponyville. First things first. The tan mare put on her glasses and trotted to the mirror. Alright, the hair dye's stayed on. Now a brief shower and some brushing. A few words, a few brief sentences, just to make sure she was in top oratorical form. Check that the collar was in quality condition. And finally, with the basics all done, it was now time to get down to some real work- Mayor Mare stopped in a still-groggy stupor, as she surveyed her workspace in front of her. There had been a piece of parchment on its surface when she went to bed, to be sure. But it wasn't that piece of parchment, and it certainly didn't have Cheerilee's writing on it: Dear Mom, Had to go back to school early (marking) when I suddenly thought you could be up to something. Turns out I was right (again!). So let me tell you two things here: 1) If you EVER try and forge my signature again, I'm telling the Express on you. 2) Don't even DARE think of ordering me to hand the award over, unless you want me to lodge a complaint with the ETU (Equestrian Teacher's Union, in case you don't know). Again, I'm fine with you kissing Filthy Rich's flank. But don't make ME do it as well. You'll win the election anyway (and I'll vote for you, I promise!). And I'll pay the rent for the next year, OK? Hugs and kisses forever, Cheerilee There was only one word the Mayor could verbalize. "Darned horse." * The Cabinet Room, Ponyville "Well, it's been nice knowing you all," the Mayor looked at her subordinates. "Now that an elementary school teacher has seen fit to turn Filthy against me, I guess the outcome of this election isn't really in any doubt." Finance Secretary Bit Coin scribbled down the crestfallen pony's words, ostensibly for the minutes, but really for Lyra's perusal. "Well, you still have the Apples and Fancy Pants," the chestnut pony suggested. "Great." The politician rolled her eyes. "I've just destroyed the Apples, and Fancy Pants probably doesn't care either way." "Now now, Mayor," Crimson Ribbon motioned gently. "Election Day is still quite far off. You still have plenty of time to persuade - or manipulate - your electorate." "Don't you understand!?" the tan mare paced back and forth. "I need money to win. I need money for the advertisements, I need money for the election manpower, I need money for the gifts and mementos. I need Filthy's money." The gray stallion smiled. "Ah, Mayor, I see. But what you mean, surely, is that you need advertisements, you need election manpower, and you need gifts and mementos." The Mayor thought about it for a little bit. "Yes... I suppose... but that's the point! I need the money to have those things!" The bureaucrat's smile grew even wider. "No Ma'am, you don't necessarily need money." "Wha- what are you talking about! I don't have money, I can't get any of those! You think ponies are going to give this stuff for free?" the politician, stressing her point waved her forelegs wildly. Crimson Ribbon sagely shook his lead, like some mystical master schooling his inexperienced disciple. "Now, Ma'am... there is an organization that can give you your advertisements, your manpower, and your gifts, without a bit of your cash spent." Mayor Mare couldn't believe her luck. "What? What organization is this- I've never heard of it!" Silence. Security Chief Delta Force politely cleared his throat. Crimson Ribbon continued with his winning smile. Bit Coin scribbled more warning notes to her mint-coated friend. It took a while for the implications to sink in. "You mean- " the Mayor began warily. "you surely mean... b-but that... this... what? I can't use the government for my own election campaign uses!" "Well of course not," Crimson Ribbon asserted matter-of-factly. "The civil service is a politically neutral organization, from top to bottom." "Then what are you talking about?" Mayor Mare made a mental note to have a think about this at home. The Secretary for Administration shrugged. "I don't know, Ma'am."