Lame Duck

by Theblondeknight

The Election

The skies were bright and cheery that fine morning. No sense of dread overcame him as he waited patiently behind the curtain of the large stage. The votes had been tallied, and the public was about to see the face of their new mayor. He felt rather like an old war horse. Come to be remembered for the afternoon, maybe the weekend, then forgotten. At least forgotten as a politician.

He hadn't been dressed so fine and well in a long time. HIs usual black top had a polished glow to it and his red bow tie had been spiffed up by his secretary but a few days ago. He sat alone, in one of the darker areas behind the stage where the crew worked tirelessly in front of him, going back and forth and pulling the event smoothly onward.

He could see the three candidates, standing eagerly and chatting with one another just behind the large blue curtains. They seemed more bright and flourishing than he did. It was probably just their age, he told himself. They all got more tense as the announcer officially began the event.

"All citizens please rise for Princess Celestia!" She spoke as she walked up the stage, all the while a glorious ray of sunshine fell onto the opposite end of the stage and a chariot of splendor and fire landed there neatly. Applause and thunderous approval amidst gay cheering filled the air as The Princess' form took center stage. She smiled and let the cameras snap pictures of her for a moment, then she began to speak.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming out today and showing how much you all care about this fine capitol city and how it is governed. I look eagerly forward to working with our new mayor to keep this city in the great era of prosperity and advance it has seen. Now, let us welcome our three prospective candidates!"

Another round of applause rose from the audience as the two stallions and single mare came out from behind the curtain, waving and smiling and giving the public the whole show. That was his cue to rise and wait his turn to be called out.

"But before we all find out which one of these brilliant young politicians will inherent the position, we must first hear from the stallion that is vacating it; please give a very warm welcome to Canterlot's finest, most illustrious mayor to date, Fancy Pants!"

He went through the curtain, and he put on the whole show, but it wasn't forced. It was natural to him now, and inside, he didn't see it so much as a show as a suit. It wasn't a bad thing, it was expected of him, and in some ways, he was still happy to put it on. The Princess stepped away from the microphone and smiled at Fancy Pants as he took out his speech from his coat interior with a grip of orange magic.

The applause were no less rewarding for him than they were for the candidates, yet he felt they dragged on for an unnecessarily long time. He thanked them several times before they quieted down and he was allowed to go on.

"Thank you all, for showing me a splendid time as mayor of Canterlot. This position has taught me many things, and one of those many things is so simple, one might assume that everypony understands it. Yet, the more I thought on it, the more I felt that I had to make sure this point came across.

Everypony has a duty. We can't all be mayors or soldiers or Princesses, no matter how much we might fancy the idea," some of the crowd laughed and he paused for them with a smile until he could go on again, "but regardless, everypony must be expected to do something. Whether it is as simple as paying your taxes on time, starting a business to help promote the economy, or perhaps even going to the battlefields of war or, Celestia forbid, politics."

Another small laugh session occurred, spearheaded this time by Princess Celestia herself.

"We are all expected to live according to the standards set by our great leaders, and if you should become a leader yourself," he turned to the three prospective mayors-to-be, "then you had better make doubly sure that you not only know those standards, but that you're prepared to carry them out and, if possible, enhance them too.

I tried to do a lot for this town, once I realized how great of a position I had landed myself in around 20 years ago, and it is indeed with a sad heart I leave it. This city means so much to me, and I will never stop contributing my part to it, I only wish I could contribute as much as in the last couple decades.

I poured much of myself into the mayorship, and I frankly don't care if I sound bitter or over-embellishing of that office when I say this: It is a job not many can do, but it is a job that must be done. To work side-by-side with the other wonderful ponies that care deeply about the city and the people that make it a city, is an honor, but a tough burden too. To serve the Princess in such a way is a stressful position, but if you do so, you will find due reward in it.

I have no regrets."

Perhaps that was a lie. It fit right, though, and he wrote it down on the speech.

"I have no regrets whatsoever, because I know that my work will always mean something to those I was gladly able to benefit, so that they could in turn, benefit me. I look forward to more closely enjoying those benefits as I step down. You have been a splendid public, and I thank you for making me the first mayor to reach the absolute limit of terms available to any single pony. You are the present, you are the future. As the past, I look forward to seeing what you can all do without me. Thank you. Goodbye."

The audience seemed to be in a trance for a moment, totally in awe of his oration and perhaps unaware that it was over. He looked over to the candidates, who were taking in his words, or at least appeared to be. Fancy Pants didn't pay much mind to the mayor that he replaced, albeit foolishly.

Only Princess Celestia appeared wholly unaffected by his words. She walked back up to the microphone as Fancy Pants stepped backwards and waited beside the candidates. The Princess began to clap, and following her lead, the public once more roared out in celebration and, he hoped, appreciation for his efforts. He smiled, as was expected, but again, it was his delight.

"For your work, Fancy Pants, you have been awarded a royal honor, and, in one month's time, you will officially be dubbed as 'Sir Fancy Pants of the Equestrian Order'!"

The crowd went into cheers and applause and ceremonial jubilee again. He certainly hadn't been expecting it, and he could feel a single tear move down his cheek as the masses beheld their mayor for the last moments of his last term. It could have been just an act, put on for the Princess, but it could be genuine too. Fancy Pants preferred not to know the truth.

"And now," Celestia continued, "the moment we've all be waiting for. The new Mayor of Canterlot is...Summer Diadem!"

The candidate in the middle, the mare, stepped forward, a teary but proud smile for an expression. She shook Fancy Pant's hoof eagerly and bowed before Princess Celestia, who in turn, bowed her head back and clapped with the masses. Fancy Pants watched her go up and begin her speech, but, like the other two candidates, he went back behind the curtain to listen to the ceremony's conclusion.

After her speech and her swearing in as mayor, she would be subject to a Q&A session, then she would host a lunch over at town hall, and the festivities of the afternoon would begin as a day of fun and games and hope for good times would arise among the ponies.

Fancy Pants, however, left at the conclusion of her speech. The cameras hardly had time to capture him as he made his way to his carriage, waving a little and leaving with just enough grace and congratulation to Summer Diadem to get off without scorn or scrutiny to hang over his head.

"Do take me back to my estate, old sport," Fancy Pants told the driver as he road off into the day and the leaves rustled and fell in the wind overhead and the streets shimmered with the glow of a strong, fine sun high above them. In the mirror on the opposite end of the carriage, he saw the camera ponies and the crowds capture the final moments of his exit. They desperately tried to capture his leave, but he knew that in a moment, he would be forgotten by them.

21 years. He had a fine run. He smiled and gently chuckled to himself as he wondered what he would feel like tomorrow. His estate came into view in the far distance, and he sat back, eyes closed, as the clop of the drivers' hooves carried him away into retirement.