Season 2 Episode 23 – Ponyville Confidential
Ponyville Schoolhouse, Ponyville
GALLOP POLL: HEARTSTRINGS (EQE) 71%/MARE (IND) 23% (±2%)
Featherweight’s reign as Editor lasted a single day.
Councilor Twilight Sparkle put down the latest edition of the Ponyville Express: REVEALED: THE SNOOP-IN-CHIEF OF THE SHAMEFUL FOAL FREE PRESS!, her hooves shuddering with barely-suppressed anger.
“He’s just a foal,” she whispered menacingly. “He’s just… a foal.”
Cheerilee put a consoling foreleg around the weedy ex-Editor. “I’m so, so sorry you had to be put through this, Featherweight,” she consoled. “I’ll make sure nopony thinks less of you for it- ”
The whole gathering suddenly jumped as Twilight brought her hoof down onto the table. “Enough is enough!” the lavender pony declared. “I won't let Filthy Rich run this entire town!”
The tan pony shifted uneasily. “What do you mean?”
The magical pony didn’t offer a direct response. “Ms. Cheerilee,” she gestured to Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, still working on the team though not as Gabby Gums. “Don’t you think these three fillies here would make fine editors?”
An exasperated huff. “I’m just happy that their dirty laundry has already been exposed.” The schoolteacher turned and posed one simple question to the trio. “So, wanna be editors?”
For the first time in their lives, the Cutie Mark Crusader Prospective Editors responded with some reluctance. “Well… ” Scootaloo began uneasily. “I don’t really feel like running the Foal Free Press… ”
“Oh come on!” the bookish mare protested. “Don’t you feel bad that Rainbow had an election victory stolen from her?”
“Well of course!” the orange pegasus filly jumped up into the air, momentarily buoyed by her indignation. “Lyra was being totally unfair on Rainbow and she should’ve-“ her eyes abruptly brightened with realization. “Oh, I do think I want to run the Foal Free Press, Twilight!”
“But Scoots, we don’t know how,” Applebloom kindly reminded.
“Well don’t you worry about that!” the unicorn giggled maniacally. “I know how!”
The gray/pink-maned politician glanced at Cheerilee. The teacher shook her head and shrugged. No other option for this poisoned chalice. “Well, girls. You listen to what Ms. Sparkle here has to teach you about editing, alright?”
The three energized fillies nodded with enthusiasm. “Sure, Miss Cheerilee! YAY! CUTIE MARK CRUSADER NEWSPAPER EDITORS!”
“Great, great!” Twilight grinned at the Mayor, a few hairs hanging loose off her mane. “Oh, we’ll take Filthy on a ride he’ll never forget!”
The bespectacled pony pretended to smile, suspicion gnawing that whatever cure her political protégé was planning to administer, it was likely worse than the disease.
“Ponyfeathers,” Cheerilee shared similar sentiments. “But I can’t care about this anymore.”
*
Chairpony’s Room, Filthy Rich Industries, Ponyville
Filthy Rich was going to have to learn to be a gentlecolt pretty darn fast. “Ma’am,” the stallion greeted sweetly, rising up to draw out a chair for his political pawn- no, political partner! – Councilor Lyra Heartstrings.
“Mr. Rich.” The lime-green pony returned the gesture a faint smile of superiority. Back in control now – just the way it should have been.
“So glad that we are working together again, Councilor,” the industrial baron chatted as he poured out two glasses of fine Henneighsy. “To a long and lasting partnership, Ma’am.”
Clink. “A long and lasting partnership.”
Filthy Rich resumed once the liquor had gone. “Anyway. To business. So, the Foal Free Press.”
The unicorn gazed into the distance. “Getting rid of Featherweight was a bad move.”
“My Baby Tia needed it,” the manufacturing magnate explained. “I get rid of him, she continues with the painting masterclasses. Have to start padding out her CV if she’s going to enter Pranceton.”
“I see. Well good luck.” Lyra rummaged around in her saddlebags. “Although with the way the FFP is going, you may you may want to start looking for a ticket out of Equestria.”
The industrial baron raised an eyebrow.
A copy of the day’s Foal Free Press slid over to him, a very different animal compared with its predecessors. “’SUPPRESSION OF THE PROLETARIAT: POLITICIANS AND CAPITALISTS IGNORE THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE’... what kind of bunk is this?!” The rotund stallion looked up, somewhat baffled by the words.
“It's angry about Rainbow Dash,” Lyra Heartstrings clarified. “You know, the totally legal disqualification of her election victory.”
“Ok…?” Filthy Rich passed back the offending paper. “So the FFP’s now rooting for the Mayor. Buy them out!”
“It’s not that simple,” Lyra began as she traced out an offending paragraph. “’Citizens of Ponyville, unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains! Filthy Rich and his political pawns seek to dominate Ponyville and exploit it for their own selfish gain! The current crisis can only continue until either the citizenry or the moneyed class gives way! If we desire a better world, we MUST overthrow the burden that oppresses us!’”
The industrial baron was unimpressed.
The unicorn sighed. “Mr. Rich, Ponyville’s in chaos right now and the street is looking for someone to blame. And under the FFP’s new management-“ she glanced at the author’s name: Dull Sunrise (by Celestia, somepony needs to learn subtlety), “ –they have decided to pin it all on you. Me too, but mainly you.”
Filthy Rich threw his head back, not giving one whit in the world. “Come on, Lyra. Everypony’s still going about their normal business. Nopony’s angry enough to believe in these conspiracies. We’ll take the steps to suppress the FFP and everything will be fine.”
Lyra lowered her voice to a murmur. “This is a dangerous gamble, Mr. Rich.”
The industrial magnate waved his hoof dismissively. “Any casino in Las Pegasus will tell you that I am rather acquainted with Filly Luck.”
Filthy’s mind was set, and Lyra knew that there were limits to her power. Yet she was certain the millionaire had misjudged the municipal mood: in the restaurants, the market, at home, ponies were now on edge more than ever, utterly frustrated at their political system, painfully sensitive to even the slightest hint of crisis.
Ponyville was becoming a giant tinderbox, and Filthy seemed content to play with fire until – BANG!
Perhaps the unicorn needed to start believing in Filly Luck too.
*
Mayor Mare’s House, Ponyville
The roar of several hundred hooves, slowly but surely reaching its crescendo as it neared, rattling the windows and doors of the little abode.
Mayor Mare awoke with a start. “Wh- wha-?”
The tan pony stumbled towards the window, gasping at the sight. Ponies filling up the avenue in front of her house; old, young, mare, stallion – all of them cantering towards Market Square with seeming abandon, wild with panic, squealing and neighing – was it another disaster? Oh, by Celestia, we do not need another disaster!
“Mom!” Groggy-eyed Cheerilee was at the door. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know, Cheerie; but we need to find out!” Mayor Mare replied as she quickly galloped down the stairs and out into the street.
*
Mane Street, Ponyville
Mane Street was an absolute mess. Ponies packed into every available space, pushing and shoving each other in their attempts to get ahead. Even worse, more were galloping in, contorting the Mayor and Cheerilee into shapes that they previously had not thought possible. The noise around was deafening: ponies shouting and screaming and yelling in confusion, frustration, anger. “Get out! Get out!” “I need to get in there; shove off!” “Ow! Stop pushing!”…
“W-what is going on!” the schoolteacher wheezed, buffeted amongst the masses like a leaf in a storm.
“If – I – knew,” came the politician's gasping response, insides ready to turn themselves inside-out, “I – wouldn’t – be here- “
“NO!” An angry shout – sounded like it was coming from Quills and Sofas – roiled up the crowd. “You can’t be out of stock already! You’re hiding the stuff from us so you can make even more profit!”
“Boo! Op-en Up! Op-en Up!”
Mayor Mare would have traded anything to not be the pony who now had to face down the horde. “Sorry, ponies: we’re really out, we’re really out! There’s nothing left in our store!”
“Boo!” “You’re lying!” “Stop treating us like criminals!”
“P-ponies!” the tan pony wheezed weakly. “I’m the – Mayor and can somepony- “
“Well, if you’re not letting us pay for your quills, then we’ll take them from you!” a stallion threatened belligerently
“No – ponies!” the Mayor’s voice was utterly lost within the insurgent battle-cry. “Rioting is – against- “
“RAH!” the mass of equines lurched abruptly forward as the crowd poured into Quills and Sofas, quickly sweepting aside any resistance in the way.
Mayor Mare and Cheerilee were flung to one side, haplessly watching in stricken disbelief as group after group of ponies charged into the poor furniture- oh, by Celestia, it was all the shops now, the uncontrollable rioters breaking down anything that stood in their way, going in and-
“Ranger Fluttershy!” Mayor Mare caught a glimpse of gently-cruising yellow amid the streaks of color zooming past it. “Fluttershy, you come here and you tell me what the hay is going on!”
“Oh! Oh Mayor, this is terrifying!” Fluttershy whined as she quickly obeyed, glancing nervously at the ponydom cantering past.
“What is going on, Fluttershy?” Cheerilee repeated.
“Oh… didn’t you hear?” the timid pegasus said. “The price for ink and paper tripled this morning! A few ponies went to the stationers' only to find out that the day's delivery was cancelled! And now, who knows what else is going to run out – oh, I need to buy cat food, I really need to buy cat food!”
“No delivery?” Mayor Mare asked anxiously. “But why- “
Too late. Fluttershy wasn't there.
“Ink and paper. It must be Filthy Rich,” Cheerilee surmised, voice revealing unconcealed disgust. "He supplies all of the stuff."
“But why…” the tan pony answered her own question. “The Foal Free Press.”
And in one fell swoop, her body was suddenly convulsed with an eerie feeling… one of absolute rage. How dare Filthy do this. How dare Filthy do this! It was one thing to take revenge on a school paper… but to start a riot because of that? How sick could a pony be?
“Cheerilee,” the Mayor growled. “I’m heading to the Library now.”
“Mom… ”
“You just stay put and look for me if anything’s- “
A hysterical voice suddenly pierced through the raging storm of sound. “Ponies! Ponies!” a pegasus suddenly squealed, madly brandishing her copy of the Foal Free Press. “This is what the Press said would happen! Filthy Rich is the one behind all this trouble! Ponies, we need to do something now! Ponies... !”
The rioters needed little encouragement to pin the blame. “Down with Filthy Rich! Down with Filthy Rich!”
Oh, by Celestia… Mayor Mare turned tail and fled the scene as fast as her legs would carry her.
*
Ponyville Library, Ponyville
Contrary to usual practice – but then, this was definitely not a usual time – Mayor Mare burst into the Library without knocking. “Twilight, the ponies are- “
Too late, the lavender pony looked back, just in the process of rolling another barrel into the storeroom.
...unbelievable. Mayor Mare silently, slowly approached her protégé, her head feeling lighter and lighter. No. No. This has to be a misunderstanding. There’s no way these barrels-
On the sides were stamped the indelible words: “INK”.
Mayor Mare stumbled towards the wall and leant shakily on it. “T…Twilight!” she stammered. “W-what in Celestia's name are you d-doing?!”
The unicorn, at first too stunned to speak, then bit her lip, swallowed some saliva and firmly decided to come clean.
“I’m getting the ponies here to change the system. And by the looks of it, I’m succeeding.”
“What… change the system?” No. This has to be some terrible dream. Twilight… she couldn’t have done this… “What would the ponies say if they ever found out? Darn it, what would the Princesses say?”
The magical pony narrowed her eyes. “Can’t you see, Mayor?” she gestured angrily. “Ponies like Filthy and Tiara own everything in Ponyville! They’ve done all they can in this term to create more and more disharmony! And every time we challenge them through the rules, they still somehow manage to win!”
She resumed rolling barrels into the storeroom. “But if I could get ordinary ponies angry enough, they’d realize what was wrong with Ponyville!” she muttered ,increasingly to herself. “And then things would change! We’d be able to get over this stupid shutdown and these stupid arguments! Ponyville's democracy would work!”
The gray-maned mare couldn’t possibly stomach any of this.
“Twilight Sparkle!” Mayor Mare stepped forward and yanked the purple mare away from her task, vaguely feeling the tingle of magic operating on her body – but the magical mare merely cast a half-hurt, half-insulted look back at her mentor. “You can’t do this!”
“It’s for your benefit too, Mayor,” the lavender pony calmly reminded as the tan pony pinned her against the wall.
“No it isn’t… no it isn’t!” the bespectacled pony desperately denied. “Twilight, you won’t fix anything through violence! So we get rid of Filthy Rich… then what? Another millionaire to take his place?”
Twilight pouted. The Mayor had a point.
“I know you hate Filthy Rich for everything he's done,” Mayor Mare stated. “But you can’t let your emotions get the better of you - especially not for a pony of your power and influence! Twilight, protect you from yourself!”
The magical pony remained unconvinced.
“Councilor Sparkle,” the Mayor let the pony go. “Princess Celestia has given me the ultimate authority within Ponyville. I order you to teleport all this ink and paper over to the Ponyville Bridge, let me sort it out from there, and we’ll pretend this episode never happened.”
The bookish pony tried again. “But I’m trying to help, May- “
“No you're not, Twilight. Now do as I tell you.”
The would-be revolutionary leered long and hard. “Fine,” she grumbled, the barrels and papers vanishing in a purple pop. “Don’t say I didn’t do anything, Mayor.”
Revolt averted by the skin of my teeth. The tan pony heaved the biggest sigh of relief she had ever heaved. “Thank you, Twilight.”
The magical pony turned away in a huff.
Better take more precautions, Mayor Mare thought. “I think a little holiday might work wonders for you, Councilor Sparkle. The atmosphere in Ponyville is getting very toxic.”
“Uh-huh,” the purple pony said, opening the door in a clear indication for the gray-maned pony to leave. “I’ll take the next opportunity out.”