//------------------------------//
// ... And That's How Equestria Was Made 
// Story: Mr. Rich, We Need to Talk 
// by TailsIsNotAlone 
//------------------------------//

"Oh, darn it!" Filthy Rich hurled his golden inkwell, golden phoenix feather quill and all, into the corner of the mayor's office.

His butler, Spitshine, blinked as the heavy bauble just missed his head and crashed into one of several bookshelves. "Is something troubling you, sir?"

"Sorry 'bout that, Shine," the tycoon said sheepishly. He gestured with one hoof to the sheaves of paperwork on his enormous mahogany desk. "I'll say something's bothering me. Just look at this tax code! It's such a mess, I doubt Princess Twilight herself could figure it out. I knew these blasted taxes were taking too much money out of my profits. It wasn't right for Mayor Mare to punish me just for being more successful than anypony else in this town. That's why I knew I made the right decision to run."

"I thought you decided that because of your wife, sir."

Filthy Rich looked upward and rubbed his chin. "Well, I reckon she did help to talk me into it. Haven't had a moment's peace ever since. Now I have to hand Barnyard Bargains over to my vice president and deal with this rigmarole all day long," the mayor-elect grabbed a hooffull of papers and threw them dramatically into the air. The last page of a new zoning proposal stuck, unnoticed, in his elegantly coiffed black hair.

Spitshine raised an eyebrow. In twenty years of service, he had never seen his boss so agitated. "Sir ... forgive me, but you weren't exactly prepared to win, were you?"

Filthy tapped his hooves together and frowned. "Shine, you've been with me a long time. Can I trust you to keep this between us?"

Spitshine nodded solemnly.

"No, I guess I wasn't. I just thought it would be something new to try. Shake Ponyville up and all that. Looking back, I might have gotten just a little bit carried away."

"That's possible, sir."

"But that campaign was one heck of a ride, I can tell you. Didn't matter what I said, didn't matter what information came out ... nopony trusted Mayor Mare anymore, and next thing I know, here I am. But it just ain't like I planned, you know what I mean? It's all 'write civic policy about this' and 'appoint a Cabinet member to do that' and 'apologize to somepony for saying this' and 'meet with the Town Council to discuss that'. I'm already dog-tired."

"You do look rather drawn, sir. You should get some rest before your inauguration tomorrow."

"The inauguration! That's another fine mess. Now there are some important ponies saying I'm totally unqualified and threatening to boycott the whole thing!" Filthy Rich finished, gesturing to the desk again. His voice grew quieter; he seemed to speak more to himself than to his servant. "I'm already counting the days until my first vacation. I need to take the family somewhere to relax, buy little Diamond something nice. Maybe then she'll start speaking to me again ... "

"Will there be anything else, sir?" Spitshine asked.

"Hmm?" Filthy distractedly took out a brush and started currying his already immaculate light brown coat. "No, that'll be all. Go on, go home. Spend some quality time with your family."

"Thank you. Good night then, sir," Spitshine finished polishing the globe and left the office. No sooner had he departed than Filthy's secretary, Holly Dash, poked her head in the door.

"Excuse me, Mr. Mayor? Your six o'clock appointment is here."

He looked up from his desk with a grouchy expression. "What in tarnation ... I don't even have six o'clock appointments. Are you sure you know how to keep a timetable, missy?"

Holly flinched. "Perhaps you don't remember making the appointment, Mr. Mayor, but I was told to pencil it in two weeks ago." She held up her ledger to show him. "'Friday afternoon, six-o-clock, Silver'."

"Silver?" A glimmer of recognition entered Filthy's tired blue eyes, and he relaxed on his luxurious chaise lounge. "Well, I'll be! Of course. My dear Silver Platter! It must have slipped my mind. All right, send her on in."

"Yes, Mr. Mayor," Holly said, relieved.

Filthy Rich rose from the lounge and sauntered over to the bar for a bottle of fermented cider. Normally he would settle for 'Flimflam Brothers' brand, but a special occasion like this called for 'Sweet Apple Acres'. Silver Platter was an old friend, from one of the most prestigious monied families in Canterlot. She and her husband Shoe Polish had moved to Ponyville around the same time as him and Spoiled, and their daughters got along famously. It was no surprise that she would want to catch up with him now that the whirlwind of the election had settled down.

He set out two glasses on top of Section 6A of the Ponyville Tax Code and filled them both, glancing around the spotless office and whistling tunelessly as he waited for the matriarch of the Spoon family. The last of Celestia's sunlight shone feebly through the window, and shadows crept in from the corners of the room. He really should turn on a light.

"Ahem."

Filthy looked up, but he didn't see anypony. He squinted in confusion. "Um ... hello? Where are you?"

"Like, I'm down here," the voice said. Definitely not Silver Platter. It was a foal's voice, and a familiar one at that.

He put his front hooves on top of the desk and leaned forward, peering over the piles of paper. Standing on the other side was a light gray schoolfilly with a silver and white mane in a single braid. Along with her large blue designer spectacles and genuine pearl necklace, she wore an expensive-looking light blue dress with a frilled skirt and matching shoes.

"Silver Spoon?" Filthy blinked in surprise. "I didn't think your mama was going to bring you along."

"As if!" The foal made a face and shook her head. "No, Mr. Rich. It's just me."

"You mean you made that appointment yourself? Now listen here, young filly," Filthy scolded her. "You know it's not right to pull pranks like that. I've had a very busy day, so why don't you head on home now?"

"Mr. Rich, we need to talk," Silver said flatly. "It's not a prank. This is a super-important tradition."

"What is? Bothering your best friend's daddy when he needs his sleep?"

"The Spoons are special ponies, Mr. Rich. We have money. Lots of money. Old money. And I'm not here to ask for favors," she held up a hoof as Filthy opened his mouth to speak. "I'm here to help."

"Honey, I appreciate your concern, but politickin' is my job, and I don't think you could really--"

"I like you. My family likes you. But let's face it: no pony expected you to be the mayor. You're not supposed to be the mayor. You said some really dumb things about mares and hired these totally lame ponies who don't know how to run things any better than you do. Princess Celestia is getting letters asking if this is the end of the world. That's not a good start, you know?"

Filthy watched, his face slightly red, as Silver trotted around his office like she owned it. She spun his globe with her hoof and smiled, as if enjoying some private joke.

"You're probably worried about what's next, huh? Well, that's totally where the Silver family tradition comes in. My grandfather talked to Kickback when he became mayor of Canterlot. My father talked to Square Deal when he was elected. My mother smartened up Mayor Mare when we moved to Ponyville, and now it's my turn."

"Is that a fact?" Filthy said skeptically. He'd never known Silver to be a liar. Her family was one of the most powerful in Equestria, and if she was speaking for them it might be best to listen. But that didn't make it any less embarrassing to be lectured by a youngster, even if she was at the top of her class.

"First, just what are you planning to do now that you've been elected?"

Despite his exhaustion, he reared up enthusiastically. The loose paper stuck in his mane finally came loose and fluttered to the floor behind him. "To help make Equestria great again!"

"This is gonna take a while," Silver Spoon sighed. She walked up to Filthy's chair and climbed up onto his desk. Then, as he watched incredulously, she grabbed one of the cider glasses and drank it in one gulp. Wincing slightly at the strong taste, she slammed the glass down and turned back to him. "Ugh. Don't you have any coffee?"

Filthy's eyes had nearly bugged out of his head. "Silver ... " 

"Miss Spoon, if you please."

"That ... that's not the kind of cider little ponies are supposed to -- "

"Let's get serious, Mr. Rich," she whipped a small notepad out of her dress pocket and examined it. "What did you say you wanted to do when you won the election? Deport all the Changelings? Abolish royally funded education and hospitals? Stop working with other cities on the environment and stuff? That's so not going to happen."

"Just in case you haven't learned civics in school, 'Miss Spoon', it is the mayor's job to set policy." Irritation and curiosity were slowly overcoming his outrage at this whole situation. He folded his hooves under his chin and glared. "And whether anypony else likes it or not, that's just what I'm going to do."

"Just in case you didn't learn about checks and balances, Mr. Rich, it's not that simple. I mean, you don't really think the Princesses and the Ponyville Town Council are just going to let you run wild for four years, right?"

"Council, schmouncil. I'm not worried about them. I'm Filthy Rich! I'm great. I'm the best businesspony in Equestria. They'll be dying to work with me."

"You're talking like the whole thing is just another business deal."

"Are you saying it isn't?" Filthy replied smugly. "If you want to talk about grownup things, you have to understand how they see the world, darlin'. And politics is business. Each pony has something the other wants or needs, even if they don't know it at the time. So you meet. You negotiate. You say what you have to in order to get the best deal you can. It's what makes Equestria go 'round and 'round!"

His voice rose with new energy as he warmed to his theme. He held out his hoof for Silver's notepad. She gave it over and watched him impassively.

"There are two parties in every business deal: a griffon and a breezy," the former CEO explained, drawing pictures on the notepad to illustrate. "One of these parties - through leverage, charisma, whatever it may be - takes control of the situation right away. That's the griffon. If you want your business to excel, then you've got to learn to be the griffon. You've got to bring that griffon out of you in every deal you make no matter how you're feeling that day, no matter what's going on at ... " He faltered slightly as his eye settled on a picture of his daughter, barely visible through the hill of paperwork. " ... At home. That's how I made Barnyard Bargains what it is today. I may not know much about municipal regulations and I may not be a career politician, but I darn sure know how to work and get things done."

She smiled and took the notepad back. "Oh, totally. You wouldn't have made it through the campaign if you were a slacker. You did a great job, Mr. Rich."

"Thank you kindly, Miss Spoon," he chuckled. "So you tell me: after all these years of dealing with other ponies and learning what makes 'em tick, after running that whole race saying whatever I had to say to get all the money and attention I needed to win, just why can't I work with them to accomplish what I promised?"

"That's easy. It's what you said before: leverage."

"Come again?"

Silver Spoon took out her pencil and drew a picture of a lopsided teeter-totter. "My family knows all about you, remember? Some ponies might call you a self-made stallion, but the reason you did so well was 'cause you had an edge." She drew a crude picture of her best friend's father standing on the long end of the seesaw. "You act like you did this stuff all by yourself, just like you said you could fix Ponyville all by yourself. No way! Your dad gave you money to start Barnyard Bargains. Your employees helped you do all the big stuff you were talking about. My mom and dad made friends with you so more ponies would respect you. And thanks to the Princess, you were free to make your business as big as you wanted, and when it got big, being the griffon was easy."

She turned the notepad to a new page and drew another picture, this time of a correct teeter-totter. 

"In politics, you're not free at all. All that leverage you were talking about? Poof! It's, like, totally gone."

"Nonsense! I'm the mayor, aren't I?"

"Just because you have a fancy job title doesn't mean you can go in and change whatever you want," Silver scoffed. She drew Filthy on one end of the seesaw, and dozens of ponies on the other end. "The sides are even now. Sure, the town council and everyone in Ponyville has to deal with you. But you have to deal with them, too. And that's where you're the breezy. Have you ever been able to stand up to Mrs. Rich? When Diamond wanted something, did you ever say no?"

Filthy Rich shifted his hooves uncomfortably. How much had her parents told her about him? How much had Diamond told her?

Silver Spoon closed the notepad firmly and put it away. "But that's not really what I'm here to tell you anyway. Do you know why Equestria is the way it is? Do you think it's all just a coincidence? Oh, I'm sure. It's all happening for a reason, you know? Maybe you don't get it, but we do. You might be the one out in front of all those ponies. But we're the ones behind them."

"What in the world are you talking about? Your family wouldn't touch politics with a thirty-foot pole!"

"Like, duh. We don't have to. We're the Silvers, Mr. Rich. We're not the griffon or the breezie. We are what we are. Before Ponyville and Canterlot, and before the three pony races even made peace, we were here. And Princess Celestia was, too." Silver Spoon walked confidently over to the window and looked out, watching idly as the town went about its business. She looked every bit the future socialite now, Filthy thought. The light from Luna's rising moon glared off her glasses. "We've been working a long time to straighten out Equestria and set an example for everypony else. We're not about to let one little election turn everything upside down. Everyone has limits. And you're going to learn yours."

"But I won," he said uncertainly.

"Oh, totally! And remember that, Mr. Rich: you wanted this. You won the title you wanted so much. But the rest of it ... "

She trotted over to the globe again, the same one Mayor Mare had used, and reached out to it with one hoof. Suddenly, as Filthy watched, its borders began to glow.

" ... That's out of your hooves."

Was the globe magic-powered? No, he didn't think so. Where could the strange light be coming from? Then his eye was drawn to Silver Spoon's cutie mark as it began to give off that same glow, pale and cold and languorous. It was not the light of unicorn magic. It was something much older, something visceral that did not merely appear and disappear, but lingered. He felt an icy prickle of unease. His whole body tensed, as though deciding whether to resist or flee the sight of it.

"It's all ours, Mr. Rich. It's ours so it can be theirs, too. Don't you get it? No matter what, some ponies can do things other ponies can't. Some are going to get a bad deal from start to finish; others are born with one of these in their mouth." Silver Spoon gestured to her cutie mark, and the spoon glowed brighter than ever. "We get that -- and we're making a world where they can be okay with it."

The globe responded, shining brightly enough to sting his eyes. The borders of islands and continents seemed to rise from the painted wood surface and twist into new shapes, some familiar, others so fantastic that they were beyond his comprehension. He saw a draconequus winking mischievously, a ruthless unicorn tyrant, a sinister pony with an equal sign on her flank. Then they all disappeared, replaced by six other unmistakable shapes: the Elements of Harmony.

"Equestria is already great. It's a world with no more Discords, King Sombras, or Starlight Glimmers. Sure, there are a lot more wrinkles to iron out. She knows that better than anypony. But still," Silver patted the globe gently with her hoof. Again it responded, glowing wherever she touched. An outer aura, so dark a violet as to be almost black -- was not there. Or if so, it was there and gone so quickly that one could not be sure they had ever seen it. She smiled. "This is what makes Equestria go around. Look at it. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Turn it off," he said in a strangled voice. He did not understand what was happening. "I ... I don't want to see. Turn it off, you hear me?!"

She looked at him irritably, rolled her eyes, and stepped back from the globe. The light was instantly gone, or at least no longer visible, and he had a feeling it was the latter.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Mr. Rich," the filly winked and immediately he knew that of all the things she had told him, this was a lie. He was already afraid. "Everything's under control. Sure, you went out there and made a foal of yourself and got everypony upset about problems you can't fix. But it doesn't matter what kind of silly things you say or how big a mess you make, you know? It won't change anything 'cause we'll be right here to clean it up, just like always. Ask Mayor Mare. I'm sure she could tell you."

Filthy Rich said nothing. He looked down at his paperwork again.

"See you next Friday. Six o'clock," Silver Spoon said cheerfully. "In the meantime, I'll do my best to cheer up Diamond at school. She's still feeling kind of lonely these days."

He nodded slowly.

"I look forward to working with you, Mr. Rich."

The door closed quietly behind her. Filthy Rich sat down and sank into the chaise lounge. He looked once more at his desk and the one glass of cider that remained. Trembling ever so slightly, he picked it up and drank it to the last drop.