Dolly Tribune's Big Scoop
It was nearly midnight by the time I had finally read through the entire manuscript and jotted down the last bit of info on the worksheet. It had been concerning zebras, how they were native to Zebrafrica, were mysterious in nature and skilled in herbal medicines and potion-brewing, just as Pinkie had told me about Zecora. I was just glancing at my watch to see what time it was, and when I found out, I just slapped my face down against the manuscript and fell asleep, my glasses slipping upwards.
***
When I woke up the next morning, the sun was shining oppressively through the window, blinding me even as I just barely opened my eyes. Groaning and shielding my face, I sat up. My back was aching from having slept slumped over like that, and my rear was numb from sitting so long.
“And this is only my first assignment,” I grumbled. “I can only imagine what he’s going to send me next time.”
I got up and stretched, though this made the pain in my back redouble. I shuffled to the door and opened it to get a breath of fresh air. This helped to wake me up slightly, and I was able to see the morning paper sitting out on the front step. Wincing as I bent over, I grabbed up the paper, went back inside, and stretched out on my bed to read.
The first words that caught my eye snapped me awake even more than plunging into an ice-cold bath. My breath seemed to catch in my throat, even though I should really have been expecting this.
Dolly Tribune had reared her head once again, and this was most likely the article she had been complaining had been held back. There, staring me in the face, was myself, looking rather dumbfounded. I didn’t doubt this was from Papa Razzo’s unexpected and altogether unwanted camerawork. They couldn’t have found a more flattering picture than that? The article below read as follows:
“The Ponyvillian Human: Innocent Visitor or Extra-Terrestrial?”
by Dolly Tribune
You may have seen him walking around Ponyville: an oddity amongst the populace, towering over even some of the largest ponies. I speak, of course, of the human among us. From the start, many have noted him as being in the constant company of Pinkie Pie, party planner and assistant at Sugarcube Corner, and testimony asserts that it was Miss Pie that discovered "Dave" outside Ponyville and brought him here. Since then, the two have been practically inseparable, and tongues have even begun to wag about the nature of their closeness: “They spend a lot of time with each other” said one anonymous pony. “It’s really cute, seeing them walking together,” said another. “I’ve seen her hug him a lot. She’s a frequent hugger, but I think she’s rather fond of him,” said yet another. These are things we've seen from him so far, but what do we really know about him? Star reporter Dolly Tribune conducted a brief interview with this enigmatic creature.
‘Shockingly, the first thing I learned from our talk was that he is not even of this world. “I come from another world entirely,” he said. “I live on Earth, but the Earth I come from doesn’t have talking ponies.” I am still unsure what this choice of words could mean, and whether or not our young friend is merely being witty. Either our dear human is a believer of alternate worlds or dimensions, something the brilliant but eccentric writings of Star Swirl the Bearded have touched upon, or he is, in fact, a being descended from another planet within, or even beyond, our galaxy, dumped off or beamed here by his kind. Word on the street corroborates this theory, as several accounts have him falling from the sky like a stone dropped by a pegasus. The evidence is, indeed, very striking, but without concrete proof, all we have to go on are Dave’s claims, and he has already given evidence to lacking proper remembrance of his arrival, casting the veracity of his claims into considerable doubt.
‘Wherever he comes from, it is plain that he has left his home and family behind in coming here to Ponyville. A tear glistened in his eye as he related his dilemma to me. “I miss them continuously,” he said. “I left so abruptly. I was, and still am, worried about how they think of what might have happened to me. I never even said goodbye.” Again, only guesswork may shed some light into the true meaning behind these words, but the possibility remains that he was part of some experiment of his kind to send a human into Equestria, for unknown purposes. Perhaps he was unceremoniously dumped off by his people, as a means of getting rid of him. It could be, perhaps, that he had done something to remove himself from his species’ favor, and so was subjected to exile in our world.
‘This does not seem entirely implausible, given his behavior only last week. During cider season at Sweet Apple Acres, run by the hardy Apple family, Dave took merely one mug of apple cider and went on an inebriated rampage. He put the ponies around him into considerable discomfort as he lurched and demonstrated his intoxicated stated through song. His mood even affected two nearby ponies, inducing them to join his indecent behavior: Rainbow Dash, chief weathermare of Ponyville, and Berry Punch, local brewer. The fact that Dave was reduced to drunkenness after only one mug is remarkable enough, but his exuberance appears quite contagious.
‘Even worse than knowing what a single mug can do to him, is the fact that he was allowed the freedom to live, however temporarily, under the same roof as two infant foals. Penniless and without a place to call home, Dave was encouraged by Ms. Pie, to take up a temporary residence within Sugarcube Corner, local bakery. The bakery, under the patronage of the Cake couple, kept him with a roof over his head until he could acquire his own home, but perhaps it was not the wisest decision in the world. It calls into question whether it is considered sound parenting to allow a creature, ponykind as a whole knows very little about, who has publicly demonstrated volatile and spontaneous behavior when exposed to mild cider, to sleep within the same home as two babies. The Cakes are unquestionably welcoming and good-hearted ponies, but recklessness such as this is tantamount to putting them in the den of a manticore. Local parents are in agreement with this. “It’s disgraceful!” said one mother, who wishes to remain anonymous. “Keeping a perfect stranger, and one who gets inebriated so easily, in their home, with two innocent, defenseless foals! Anything might have happened! My heart already skips a beat whenever I remember that Pinkie Pie keeps a pet alligator in the same home! It was a relief to know that that boy wasn’t staying in Sugarcube Corner anymore, and that those poor babies are safe from his bad influence.”
‘Lastly, I asked him, casually, if he would be willing to leave Equestria if it meant a chance to return back to his own kind. His answer? “I would, but not without saying goodbye to everypony. I already made that mistake once.” To my discomfort, he never added whether or not he would consider returning. One hopes that even if he did, Dave, an oddity on all accounts, and quite possibly even hazardous, will choose to stay where he can do the least damage.’
The paper trembled in my hands. It felt as if I could have squeezed the ink right out of it, the way I was gripping it. A burning heat seemed to emanate from my palms, and my brow and scalp felt as if they were heating up as well.
Anger: hot, boiling, furious anger, anger like that which I had never felt before, was rising up inside me as I read over the article again. The worst phrases jumped out at me.
“A being descended from another planet”
“Part of some experiment”
“Unceremoniously dumped off”
“Demonstrated volatile and spontaneous behavior when inebriated”
“A perfect stranger, one who gets inebriated so easily”
“Bad influence”
“An oddity on all accounts, and quite possibly even hazardous”
It was worse than I could have imagined. Even in spite of the warnings I’d been given, the assurances that it would have been nothing to worry about, it was still horrible to endure. That woman, that mare had made me sound like a dangerous, sketchy, alcoholic alien, an exile from my own world, a pawn in an experiment! More than that, she dared to insult the Cakes, calling them bad parents for letting me near the twins! I hadn’t laid one offending finger on Pound or Pumpkin! How dare she put blame on them! And she had the audacity to claim I was a bad influence to foals? If anything, she was the bad influence!
There was a sudden knocking on my door. Still feeling hot and furious, I got off my bed and marched over, throwing it open so suddenly that I almost hit the pony behind it. I felt a slight check in my wroth as I realized it was Derpy.
“Oh! Sorry, Derpy. I didn’t mean to swing the door open like that. I’m just in a really bad mood right now.” Remembering it reduced my last sentence into a growl.
“You’re not the only one,” said Derpy, in an icy tone I had never noticed in her before.
Now that I took a good look at her, I saw that her face was unusually stony, her wonky eyes glaring, the yellow irises like ovals of flame. Clutched in her wing was a newspaper, and it all made sense.
“You saw it too, huh?” I grunted.
“I did, and I thank Celestia Scootaloo didn’t,” said Derpy, her voice quavering slightly, as if she were about to burst into tears. “How dare she...how dare that Tribune cow write such rubbish! The very idea of calling you an alcoholic alien, and a bad influence to foals! It’s outrageous! You saved my little darling from the Everfree Forest. How could she possibly think I, anypony would swallow this tripe after knowing what you did?”
“Then why don’t the two of us do something about it?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“Like marching down to the Ponyville Express’s office and giving that acid-tongued unicorn a piece of our minds!”
I could see the resolution waver in Derpy’s eyes. Causing a public scene must not have been what she’d had in mind. However, her face hardened once again. She looked up at me and nodded. I shut the door behind me, and the two of us started marching toward Ponyville.
***
As we came upon the main street, I saw many ponies flocked together, having what looked like a heated argument. Many of them were brandishing newspapers, so I figured their topic was my article. I didn’t care about that, however. All I wanted was to get at Dolly.
Suddenly, many members of the crowd looked up and saw Derpy and me coming. The huddle broke apart and began crowding around us.
“It’s outrageous!” screamed Bon Bon. “How could she?!”
“Exiled alien, my flank!” growled Lyra.
“An alcoholic? You? You’re a total abstainer compared to somepony like me!” snapped Berry.
“A bad influence to foals? I invited you to lecture my class! Would I have if you were a bad influence?” shouted Cheerilee.
“Mah sisters wouldn’t be friends with you if you were a bad influence!” grumbled Big Macintosh.
I’d never seen many of these ponies so angry before, and all because of me, but, like I said, I didn’t care at that moment.
“Where are you going, Dave?” asked Caramel. “You’re not about to do something stupid, are you?”
“Derpy and I are going to have a little chat with Miss Tribune,” I growled through clenched teeth. “It’s time she got a few facts straight!”
This took many ponies aback, and a second later, a new tidal wave of shouting washed over us as we continued on.
“Don’t do that!” said Minuette. “It’s not worth making a scene over!”
“Yeah, you show that old liar!” roared Lyra.
“Do you want to give her something else to deface you with?” asked Bon Bon. “If you do this, she’ll call you a raving rabble-rouser or something!”
“She deserves it!” yelled Berry.
“Derpy, how can you let him do this?” asked Golden Harvest.
“My Scootaloo wouldn’t have been brought back safely if it weren’t for Dave,” said Derpy, coldly. “If you think I’m going to let Tribune get away with this, you’re out of your mind!”
“I’m with you, Mom!”
I turned. Sparkler had come to march along by my other side. Our eyes met, and we both exchanged nods of understanding.
The last to catch up to us were the Cakes themselves, as our path took us past Sugarcube Corner. I have to admit, I’d always thought of them as being some of the calmest, most peaceable ponies in Ponyville. Seeing them absolutely livid, at this moment, was therefore enough to make my heart jump, even in my furious resolution.
Before they could say anything, however, I said,
“I want the both of you to know, that I am not going to let her get off scot-free for implying that you’re bad parents. You’re great parents! You’re raising Pound and Pumpkin into healthy young foals, and you’re parental figures to Pinkie. If she thinks she can get away with such slander...”
“Thank you, Dave,” said Mr. Cake. “We knew you were nothing like what that Tribune mare said.”
Mrs. Cake merely nodded, and they joined the crowd.
Several of the ponies still tried to hold us back. Some were trying to placate me (“Come on, Dave, be reasonable. She’s written a lot worse. It’ll pass”), others were more critical (“Don’t be an idiot! Don’t rise to her bait! It’s what she wants: another excuse to slander you!”). Some of the unicorns actually tried that object manipulation thing with their magic by grabbing my wrists and trying to pull me away from my intended course. I strained against them, as if I were pulling weights behind me with iron manacles around my wrists.
“Let go of him!” I heard Lyra shout.
“He can’t! He shouldn’t!” I heard several ponies clamor disjointedly.
For a moment, I thought they were going to succeed, when, all of a sudden, I felt a pair of forelegs grip me from under my arms, and I felt myself being propelled forward. Looking up, I saw that Derpy was actually pushing my along, wings flapping furiously. I heard the strains of the unicorns as they still tried to hold me back. And then, something pressed against my back, and the force applied nearly lifted me off my feet. It was Big Macintosh, shunting me along with his workhorse muscle! These ponies really did have my back.
At last, we came to a low, white building where the words The Ponyville Express were advertised in enormous block letters stretching across the entrance. Dolly had to be inside.
“Still not too late to back out,” said Minuette.
“Not...a...chance!” I growled, helping Derpy and Big Mac along with her efforts.
I pushed the doors wide open and marched inside. With me went Derpy, Sparkler, Lyra, Bon Bon, and Berry. The rest hung outside, either yelling encouragement or bemoaning our apparent foolhardiness. From outside, Big Macintosh stood right in front of the doors as a kind of guard, preventing anypony who was against our mission from interfering. We strode straight up to the receptionist’s desk, where a bored-looking unicorn mare with a ponytail was sitting. She looked up at us, completely unperturbed by our flushed and angry countenances.
“Can I help you?” she asked, in a nasally voice.
“You most certainly can, ma’am,” I said, in a voice of deadly calm. “We want to have a word with Miss Dolly Tribune about the front page article in today’s paper.”
My entourage nodded in agreement.
“If you have any complaints, go to the editor-in-chief,” said the receptionist, still looking bored, and even beginning to file at her hooves with an emery board. “He’s the one who finalizes the stories for the paper.”
“Is that so?” I asked. “Well, then, which way is his office?”
“Straight down the hall, right at the end,” said the receptionist, not looking up.
“Thank you,” I said, tersely, and headed for the hallway, the others following.
Sure enough, right at the end of the hall was a door marked ‘Headliner: Editor-in-Chief’. I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came a young man’s voice.
I opened the door to find an Earth pony stallion sitting behind a desk. He was young and handsome, with sea-green eyes like Fluttershy’s, a pale cream coat, and a brown, short-cropped mane. His cutie mark, just visible over his desk from where I stood, resembled a piece of paper with a green check mark over it. Unlike the receptionist, however, he was caught off guard by our behavior.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“Very much the matter, sir,” I said, gruffly. I nodded to Derpy, who slapped her cover of today’s paper down on Headliner’s desk. “We wanted to have a word with you about Miss Tribune’s article.”
Unless it was my imagination, Dolly’s name seemed to make Headliner jump slightly.
“What about it?” he asked, rather sharply.
Then, as he looked me over, his eyes widened in sudden comprehension.
“Hang on...you’re the Ponyvillian Human!”
“I am,” I said, through gritted teeth, “and I’m also, according to Miss Tribune, an exiled alien, an alcoholic, and a bad influence on foals!”
“...Do you mean to imply that these claims aren’t true?” asked Headliner, in a level, yet slightly nervous tone.
“Of course I’m implying that!” I snapped, making him recoil. “You let this fraudulent scandal pass, sir, and we’re not leaving until we set things straight!”
There were murmurs of assent from my friends. Headliner stood up straight, clearly doing his best to remain calm under such pressure.
“That’s a very grave accusation to make to a pony of my title,” said Headliner, sternly. “As editor-in-chief, it is my job to inspect all news stories before they are put into the paper.”
“Which is why this is so much harder on you,” I said, grimly.
“What do you mean?” asked Headliner, sharply.
“Mr. Headliner, tell me: have you always approved of Dolly’s articles?”
Headliner looked slightly nervous again. His eyes flitted to the door, as if worried she was going to barge right in at that moment.
“Well, yes. Some sound quite outlandish, but she always assures me she had conducted considerable research in order to gain the information.”
“The only thing she’s gained,” said Derpy, “is a group of ponies who think she’s gone too far!”
“And about 10 pounds since last month!” chimed in Berry. Lyra snorted with laughter, but she was quelled by a glare from Bon Bon.
“W-Well, in that case, let’s go over the article, and you can tell me where the problems lie,” said Headliner, tenting his hooves together and giving me a scrutinizing look. He looked like he was trying to put on a brave face for us.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be too angry with this stallion. He wasn’t the one who wrote the article. Then again, he had passed the story, so he was partially responsible.
“First off, I’m not going to lie about Pinkie and me. We are good friends, though I personally have never heard these claims that there’s ‘more between us’. I owe a lot to her, and she’s always been there for me.”
“I see,” said Headliner, “so you have no complaints against that.”
“Not particularly, but where I do start to lose my temper,” I continued, anger rising again, “is where she actually starts her little testimony!”
I jabbed a finger at the paper.
“These claims that I come from an alien world, that I was dumped off by my people as a kind of exile, are ludicrous!”
“But you do admit that you have no memory of how you did get here?” asked Headliner, raising an eyebrow.
“...Well, no, I don’t have any memory of it,” I conceded, grudgingly.
“Then, for all we know, you could be from an alien world.”
“But-” Lyra tried to interrupt, but the others shook their heads, intimating to her that she should not butt in.
“It’s not too implausible,” I said, then added, in a heated tone, “but that doesn’t excuse what she wrote next!” I took another deep breath. “I know I may have gone a little nutty on the first day of cider season-”
“A little nutty?” asked Lyra. “You were full-blown singing and dancing!”
“Lyra!” chided Bon Bon.
“But it was only one mug, and I never went back for another all through the rest of cider season. Ask anypony, they’ll vouch for me.”
“He never did show up for more cider,” attested Sparkler.
“He must have thought one mug was enough,” said Berry.
“After what happened, I certainly did,” I said. “It’s a real shame, though. If it didn’t do that to me, I wouldn’t care. That stuff’s pretty dang delicious.”
“Yeah,” said Lyra, fondly. “That stuff’s golden heaven in a mug!”
She was leaning against Bon Bon as she reminisced, but she was brought back straight by an irritated nudge from her.
“Such a killjoy,” I heard her mutter.
“I myself enjoy a good mug every now and then...” said Headliner, fondly, but he seemed to catch himself, as he cleared his throat and said, “So this bit about going on a drunken rampage?”
“Is highly exaggerated,” I said. “Like I said, I did go a little crazy, going into a full song and dance routine, but I felt really euphoric at the moment, and Berry Punch and Rainbow Dash were sharing my enthusiasm.”
“It was like I knew his version by heart,” said Berry.
“And where is Miss Rainbow Dash?” asked Headliner. “Can she provide testimony?”
“She can, but only when she returns. She’s currently visiting the Pie family with her friends.”
“I see,” said Headliner. “Anything else?”
“That’s not even half of it,” I went on, glaring at him. “According to Miss Tribune, if I am an outsider with an affinity for inebriating myself, which I can certainly tell you I do not possess, then I am, therefore, not to be trusted around the foals of this town!”
“Well, you must understand how concerned parents might become about a case like yours,” said Headliner. “Given the height with which you took your cider-induced shenanigans-”
“I understand that!” I snapped. “What I don’t approve of is her bringing the Cakes into this!”
Headliner gave a sudden start.
“The Cakes? Mr. and Mrs. Cake of Sugarcube Corner?”
“Unless you know of any other Cakes, sir, then yes.”
“But-but I don’t remember reading about them when I reviewed Dolly’s piece!” he said, suddenly sounding panicky. “Did I just skim over it? Or-”
He suddenly paused, horrified comprehension on his face. What was he talking about? Was he implying that Dolly had somehow added that bit about the Cakes after her story was approved, without Headliner?
He leaned forward and asked, in a tremulous voice, “What did she say about them?”
“Oh, nothing too bad...” I began, in a sarcastically casual tone, before building up steam as I went. “She only implied that they were terrible parents for allowing me near their foals! It’s a load of bull-dung! The Cakes are wonderful parents! They’re bringing up two fine, happy foals, and they’ve been surrogate parents to Pinkie! If they’re bad parents, then I’m an Oompa Loompa! On top of that, that cider incident happened after I left Sugarcube Corner to move into my own house. You can ask Pinkie and Twilight Sparkle about that once they come back. They’ll tell you. During my entire time with the Cakes, I never laid one offending finger on their babies, and I certainly did not indulge in other alcoholic beverages.”
“It’s true!” said Berry. “I’d know! The town’s wine goes through me, and he never stopped into my shop to buy any. All he did was get rid of my empty bottles, which I’m still grateful about, by the way.”
I looked at her, and she gave me a smile, which I returned. Headliner looked flabbergasted.
“The Cakes; the most reputed bakers in Ponyville...She said that about them?”
“She even went so far as to get an ‘anonymous quote’ from a ‘concerned mother’,” I said.
“Goodness,” said Headliner, stunned.
“You want a concerned mother?” asked Derpy, suddenly. “Try me! Dave is one of my dear friends, and I cannot believe that Dolly Tribune would imply that he was a danger around my little muffins. Dinky and Scootaloo are on close terms with him. He’s a Cutie Mark Crusader!”
Headliner looked confused.
“A what?” he asked.
“It’ll take too long to explain,” I said. “The point is, Dolly’s making me out to be a danger to Ponyville’s children.”
“And she never even thought it worth it to write about something that happened to him during his first week!” said Sparkler, angrily.
“And that was?” asked Headliner, actually looking interested.
Before anyone else could speak, however, Derpy cut in, her voice quivering with emotion.
“Before Scootaloo became my daughter, she was being bullied about being an orphan...She went into the Everfree Forest by herself, but couldn’t get back out. Dave went into the forest with Fluttershy to save her, without even thinking about his own safety. All he cared about was getting her out again. They rescued her, and...and...”
She paused. Tears were glistening in her bright eyes. Sparkler came over and put a foreleg around her shoulders.
“And?” asked Headliner, leaning closer.
“Dave saw to it that Scootaloo was placed under my care,” she finished, thickly. “She’s only been my daughter for a few weeks, but I’ve known her even before then, when we’d meet to deliver the mail and newspapers. I always thought of her as family, and now she is, thanks to Dave...” She wiped her eyes with her hoof. “And I am not going to stand by and let that horrible mare neglect to inform the town about the truth! I’m not going to let Dave become a subject of public shame and ridicule because of her! None of us will!”
“No!” clamored Berry, Sparkler, Bon Bon, and Lyra together.
Headliner was looking aghast. His jaw was hanging open, his eyes wide and staring.
“You see, sir,” I said, levelly, “though you didn’t write that article, you still allowed it to pass. Its distribution falls upon your shoulders as much as hers. I have nothing against you, but the damage is done.”
Headliner blanched. His eyes flitted swiftly to a framed photograph on his wall of a bearded, stern-faced white stallion with a close-cropped mane. Was that his superior (did editors-in-chief have superiors?), or was it his father? He seemed to be fighting some internal struggle within himself. He closed his eyes and sighed.
“Mr. Dave,” he said, finally, looking at me, “I hope you will allow me to sincerely apologize for this gross mismanagement of information. If I had known that Dolly wasn’t telling the whole truth, neglecting to tell me about you rescuing that little filly, and what she said about the Cakes...” His face became set and stern. “It’s time I did something about this for a change.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I inherited this post from my father, Bulletin. Dolly was working here even during his time, and when he left, he put me in charge. He said he had complete confidence in me, and knew I would keep to the truth.”
His face fell.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to hold to that promise, it seems. Dolly knew she could push me around, and that if she said she got all the facts, I would approve. After all, how was I to know where she got her information? I merely thought she was being thorough. But this...”
His face became stern again.
“This is a crime against the truth, and the Express has always strived to keep to nothing but it. Mr. Dave, ladies, you have my assurance that I will be speaking to her about this. This will not pass!”
I looked at the others, who were looking cheerful at this news. I felt the last reserves of my rage ebbing away at the same time.
“Thank you, Headliner,” I said. “I’m sorry I had to storm at you like that.”
“I’m glad you did,” said Headliner, frankly. “It’s about time someone told me I needed to stop standing out of the way. With luck, we may be able to get the facts this time, if you’re willing.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” I said. “I’m not too keen about it right now.”
“Understandable,” said Headliner. “Now, I don’t want to be a bother, but I would appreciate it if you could all see yourselves out. I have a lot of work to do yet.”
“Of course, sir. Thank you for your time. Come on, everypony.”
And we left Headliner’s office, closing the door behind us.
***
“You were amazing, Dave!” squealed Lyra, as we trekked down the hallway. “You were so confident, so forceful!”
“Aw, shucks, Lyra,” I said, somewhat embarrassed. “I just let my anger do the talking. It’s not often I get so steamed.”
“Lucky, too,” said Sparkler. “You were looking pretty murderous.”
The girls all giggled, and even I laughed. Then, I said,
“Listen, gals, I really want to thank you for sticking up for me. I feel really lucky to know that you’re all on my side.”
“Of course we’re on your side,” said Bon Bon. “You’re a sweet, considerate friend, and we’d never let anypony make up such lies about you.”
“No way!” said Berry.
“And you, Derpy,” I said, turning my attention to the pegasus. “You were incredible with that speech of yours.”
“I meant every word of it,” she said, warmly. “You’ve done nothing but help me ever since we’ve met, and I wasn’t about to let anypony mess that up.”
I beamed down at her, and she smiled back up at me, warmth and kindness in those askew eyes of hers.
“Aww, come here, you,” I said, kneeling down, and she threw her hooves around me in a warm hug, which I reciprocated gladly.
We sprang apart, however, at the sound of an all-too familiar voice.
“Well! Mr. Dave! Fancy seeing you here!”
Standing at the entrance to the corridor was none other than Dolly Tribune herself, Papa Razzo tagging at her heels. I glanced at the others; their faces had become as icy as polar bear snot.
“I’m just heading in for a talk with Headliner, my boss,” she said, sweetly, “but I would like to know if you wouldn’t mind a quick word. Perhaps your pony friends can provide testimonial pieces.”
The nerve of her! She still had the audacity to try and suck more lies out of me?! Well, she’d hopefully be getting her comeuppance soon.
I straightened up, looked her straight in the eye, and said, sternly,
“Why, yes, Dolly, you can have a word. Two, even. GOOD DAY!”
And I strode past her without a second look, the others hurrying behind me, back towards the front doors, where the crowd outside was waiting to hear about what had gone down.
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That one moment when one of your favorite HiE fictions update when you're bored and you have a desire to glomp the author.
My method would involve a lot of guns and chemical weapons...
But this will also do
You go, Dave! Stick it to the mare!
Another amazing chapter. I applaud you god sir.
Yay! Stormy!
Someone's a wee angwy, awww yes he is!
GO DAVE!
Hmmm, this story sems interesting, sure I'll give it a read.
Let's see... 230,993 words
Holy shit...
-Kiryu
Fantastic update. This is a very well done and realistic portrayal of what would happen if someone were approached with a situation like this.
dashie.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw8176-1348957729003.png
2488519 I myself would go with ropes, wood, water and a nice bit of electricity. And a cloth.
2489112 Mine would require a soundproof room, a chair, some rope, 10-pounds of sugar, 1 pinkie pie eating said sugar, and some board and nails to barricade the door. I show no mercy.
And the worst of it, I'm sure that Iron"adolf"Mane is going to call him stupid and accuse him for soiling the princesses's and ponyvile citizen's honor
That bastard is going to give him more assignement work for that...
2490176
Oh, he won't be happy, trust me, but at least the article didn't mention that Dave has a job within the royal staff. That would have been disastrous.
The man can use words effectively. I how ever would have used a rat, steel bucket, and a blow torch. But it seems his way was much more effective.
2489112
Mine would involve pointing fingers, shouting "HOLD IT!" or "TAKE THAT!" a lot, and giving Headliner a whip.
My method of revenge would involve rope, a large firecracker, and an angle right to the sun.
Or possibly locking him in a shed full of explosives ready to blow.
Take your wash cloth, and apply it gently to the burned area.
2494187
They're mentioned in Chapter 2, when Pinkie tells Dave he has a 'nice guy' face
2493019or just making my target Wile E. Coyote's sidekick
2495551 Also several times when he was to fall asleep, 'taking off my glasses' if i'm not mistaken
On another note, I find this story quite entertaining. I can only hope it continues to be this good. Golden moments include, but are not limited to: Ironmane getting verbally flayed by Celestia, basically any scene with Vinyl, Cider Season, and much much more.
2522831
Don't worry, I really am a Christian.
Please deposit six million dollars for the first three minutes.
Wow, that must be pretty rough. No roof, just the rough.
2504454 Curios, how and where did you make that oc background, with your oc flyin past rainbow dash?
I hate paparazzi in the real world. As*holes. To have them in one of my favorite cartoony universes?
Well done, good author. You have come a long way from chapter one, and you've improved along the way. Good show, ol' chap!
2493019
's shed.
No, no. Just place him inside
There's murder in the air... and it smell divine!!!
2495510 2488967
Oh, that's awesome. Good on you, Dave.
2495510
Want some Aloe?
The moment when he brushes on past Dolly Tribune reminded me of this, 1:17 and 1:34 particularly:
Onward!
(Edit to add: Five bits says Ms. Tribune gets fired, btw...
)
*initiating slow clap* like...........a...............sir!
You're fired would also be two words for her. Lol
2489633
I like the way you think
.
Nyu~
I figured you meant wrath, though I see that wroth is actually a word, archaically meaning wrath, so if you meant to go with wroth, then all right.
A thought occurred to me... To write an article in response...
Only in a Death Note...
However we are more civil, than that, are we not?
Let us use an... Editorial Note instead...
Alternatively summoning the Daleks sounds... fitting...
"You will apologise! Apologise! You have twelve hours to comply! Otherwise they'll have to look for another reporter!"
"Allow me to be blunt: apologise in twelve hours!.. otherwise you will be exterminated!"
Fine way of demanding an apology, huh
?
"You have no other option! Resistance is futile!"
Someone, fetch the Doctor
...
(Why
? Is someone sick?)
No, the Doctor
!
"Doctor!.. Doctor! He is the enemy of the Daleks!!.. Exterminate! Exte-e-ermina-a-ate!!!"