Dead End
Sombra glared at the misbegotten cretin that dared stand before him, barely-contained loathing roiling beneath the surface of his expression.
Meaty chunks of demands flew from its mouth to splatter across his stalwart chest and face. In another time, in another place, he would already be rifling through his index of spells, debating the personal satisfaction factor of the wretch's death via exsanguination, liquidation, or disintegration. In truth, the thought still crossed his mind even now, though he refrained from acting on it.
(It would have been disintegration. Painless, unfortunately, but it left behind no mess. Blood, he had learned, was a much less enjoyable spectacle when he had to clean it up himself afterward.)
More demands flew at his face as he stoically weathered the storm. In time, the lesser being finally ceased its prattling and met his gaze; expectant and trollish in its idiocy.
How he hated it.
"So, in summary," His voice was thin and reedy —forced as it was through the windpipe of his unwilling host— and betraying none of his ire even as his pride cried out at the indignity of lowering himself to the level of such a creature. "You want a number five with no cheese, two number threes —one with no pickles and no mustard, one with extra pickles and extra mayo—, a junior princess meal with extra nuggets-"
"With the toy," the featherhead's brat interrupted.
"With the toy. Three large beverages and one small. Will that be all?"
"Yes," the mare replied stiffly, tilting up her pinched features in an effort to look down on him despite his height advantage. "And don't you dare get a single item wrong. Don't think I won't hesitate to call both your manager and the district coordinator; both close, personal friends of mine. My baby has a very delicate palate."
Oh, how he longed for the days when he could have laughed in her face, told her what he thought of her “delicate palate”, and sent her off to the mines (or worse) in chains. But without his throne, without his full magic, without even a body of his own through which to express his divine right to rule, all he could do was force the practised saccharine smile on his face and kowtow to the lying pony-shaped worm. He knew for a fact his crotchety old greybeard of a manager had no friends.
"Of course, ma'am. Your total is thirteen fifty." Bits were exchanged and he forced himself not to cringe as her filthy plebeian hooves brushed his. Just another drop in the ocean of indignities he was forced to suffer. "Thank you. Your order number is thirty-five. A server will bring it to your table when it's ready."
She turned on a bit and walked off, spawn in tow, before he was even finished. Done so, of course, without so much as a word of thanks or consideration. Not that he'd expected any less. Standards had fallen so far in his long absence.
The Manehattan Burger Princess (36th street location, across from the metro access) was not where Sombra had expected to spend his days after he and his Empire finally returned. But two failed takeovers and just as many vaporizations had a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans. Which was not to say he wasn't making the best of a bad situation.
Shielded from view beneath the greasy overgrown locks of the teenage body he'd stolen and possessed, his horn glowed with the anti-light of a dark spell. A few steps away, the impertinent mare stumbled over nothing, nearly knocking into a prodigiously fat stallion and his equally corpulent wife. She exchanged scowls with the couple before recovering and continuing on her way. Sombra allowed himself a grin as he felt the wisps of Will he’d siphoned off her slide down his horn and coalesce within him.
He wished he could take more —the mare was far too willful for her own good— but there was good reason to limit himself; stealing too much at once risked being noticed. His was a plan that required subtlety and patience. He took solace in the knowledge that every shred of Will he stole brought him one step closer to victory and revenge, no matter how many ponies he had to drain it from.
That was one of the few advantages of making his tactical retreat to such a greasy and ignoble hovel. The endless stream of customers. Such a dull and weak-minded lot; it was hard to believe they had any Will to steal. But they did, and one by one their hunger for cheap and greasy food fueled the furnaces of his resurrection.
That was not the only boon of the location, but the other was best left to its slumber in the back of the deep freezer where none ventured among its nest of cardboard and nuggets.
Tearing off the order as the ancient register finally finished spooling it out with its ear-grating mechanical whine, he turned and slapped it onto the wheel that crossed the divide between his counter and the kitchen. With a careless push, he sent it on its spinning journey across.
"Order up!" he called back to the chefs before leaning in and adding a hissed whisper. "And put some special sauce on it."
The order disappeared from the wheel with a flash of emerald magic, and was all too quickly replaced by the emaciated snarl of the Head Chef (as much as the term applied when her primary culinary techniques were defrost and deep fry).
"Don't tell me what to do!" she spat before disappearing once more. He stared impotently through the window that led to her domain. He knew that she'd probably have sauced the order anyway regardless of his instruction. Her vitriol was expected, though the insult still rankled.
Sombra steadied his flaring emotions and reeled in his anger, setting it to a low simmer of frustration in the back of his mind. Lowering himself to a mere servant of cheap snacks was infuriating enough, but suffering through day after day with the oh-so-strangelable ponies known as his coworkers was enough to make him question if it was all really worth it. It was hard to imagine a more insufferable cross-section of equinity.
*Ding!*
A tray of food appeared in the second window accompanied by another acerbic shout from within the greasy depths. "Order thirty-two ready for pick-up!"
"I'm on it, Miss Chef!" A small puce-colored ball of energy and saccharine sweetness appeared out of nowhere to pick up the tray. Overloaded as it was, the puny pegasus's wings buzzed like an insect to keep her aloft as she weaved over the crowd.
A tiny grin quirked at the edge of Sombra's mouth. His horn flickered—barely for a moment, barely time for a corona to even form—and then the little annoyance was head over hooves, tumbling through the air in a living firework of soda and hay fries.
It was beautiful, in a way. Enough to make him momentarily forget the drudgery of his new existence.
And then he heard the incessant tapping of someone mashing the broken counter bell.
"Excuse me." The mare could have been a color-corrected copy of the last one, bleached mane and all. "Some time today if you don't mind."
He imagined her dipped in boiling oil. Not unlike the hayfries she would doubtless order then complain about the greasiness of. It was the small things that kept him going.
Sombra straightened his apron and refixed his plastic smile. "Hello. Welcome to Burger Princess. How can I assist you today?"
This was not her place.
Making food. Cleaning grease traps. Serving ponies. It was all so far beneath her it should have been as dust.
The food service industry was a neophyte level infiltration. The kind of assignment given to infiltrators just out of basic training so they could get practical experience around real ponies.
And yet here she was; Chrysalis, Queen of the changelings and all the deep fryers she surveyed.
It was enough to make her Queen Mother roll in her grave, the conniving old toad.
Still, for a changeling who'd been abandoned and betrayed, it was one of the most reliable sources of energy she could access without bringing undue attention to herself. Ponies loved their fast food. It wasn't a deep love or a fulfilling one or even a healthy relationship by any means, but it was strong enough she could drain it away.
And if she ever got tired of the same greasy flavor, there was the occasional flash of stronger emotion to stimulate the palate. A foal’s excitement over receiving a shiny hunk of worthless plastic with their order. The teenaged joy of earning their first paycheck.
None of it was filling by any means —rare was the day that some simpleton brought a romantic date to a place where they could gorge themselves to an early grave for under twenty bits— but it was enough to survive with a little leftover to stockpile for her inevitable return to glory.
She slid another tray of hot trash across the divide. "Order thirty-two ready for pick-up!"
At least it was easy work. Keeping track of a dozen or so orders across just as many fryers, skillets, and temp workers was nothing compared to managing the logistics of a hive thousands of changelings strong. Or it would be, if ponies had any kind of changeling work ethic.
Rather than bred-warriors and lifelong-infiltrators, all she had to work with was...ugh…
...teenagers.
A loud crash from the dining floor deepened her scowl. There wasn’t any need to check; only one thing made that noise.
“Someone get me a redo of number thirty-two, Butterfeathers dropped another one.”
The responding groan of her cooking minions was not nearly as quiet as they thought they were being. She made a note of the most insubordinate ones to assign after-hours cleaning duties to. But despite the groaning they were quick to get back to work. That much she’d managed to drill into their puny minds.
She watched the kitchen with a critical eye as the machinations of food production stuttered along, putting out fires (all too many literal) as they cropped up.
“Stop, stop, stop! You incompetent fool! Preheat the oil, then add the hayfries. You’re going to ruin the whole batch!”
“Are you actually blind or just stupid? This order said no cheese! It was underlined three times! Eighty-six them and start again.”
“Get those tools out of your filthy mouth! Do you not see the sign? Hoof-mixing only. You learned this on your first day!”
It was like running a hive of nymphs. Nymphs that swung wildly between lackadaisical ineptitude and near-suicidal incompetence.
She never learned their names. She hadn’t needed names in the Hive, not when ‘You!’ would suffice, and she had no plans to change. Besides, they wouldn’t last long enough to be worth remembering. They never lasted. Even with only a light daily draining of ambient positivity they always wore out so fast. Honestly, if she’d just waited a generation or two to invade, she could have strolled into the Canterlot throne room through the crumbling remains of a nation filled with layabouts who had no motivation to do anything whatsoever.
By the Hive, it took constant supervision just to get them to put the bare minimum effort into jobs they themselves had applied for!
At least she didn’t have to try and manage Greaseball. That wasn’t his real name, of course, but while she couldn't be bothered to learn it he was infuriating enough to earn a mocking moniker. Especially with that mane.
If she dipped him headfirst into the deep fryer (as she’d often fantasized), he’d probably come out cleaner.
He was strangely void of joy, for a pony. Almost as regularly miserable as she was. Except when something bad happened to Butterfeathers, but who didn’t feel better seeing something happen to that freakish imp with her tasteless fake happiness?
“Order up!”
That sneering voice cut through her reflections. She could hear the implied demand. It oozed from his words like slime from a rotting fetid log. No matter that it was her job to take orders from him, she was a Queen! And she would have respect!
Even if she had to drain these nimrods dry one at a time!
In a cramped office that still sported the hooks and shelves of its days as a storage room, a scrawny figure that still somehow filled the room with presence grimaced as he heard the crash from outside.
The idiot child had probably tripped. Again. Which meant a mess. A comped meal. Taking someone out of the kitchen to clean it up. Another twist in the tally sheets at the day's end.
More paperwork.
He'd take it out of her pay. That would teach her to be so clumsy. How anyone could trip so frequently in the air was beyond him. Every day she made him question their alliance.
Sighing, he set down his quill and grabbed the wheels on either side of his chair. A few practiced twists maneuvered him around the desk and towards the door as he braced himself for the second-worst part of this job.
Dealing with ponies and their looks.
How he hated it. Oh, how he hated it. Hated their pitying stares. Hated their flat platitudes and rote offerings of help. Hated how they looked down on him out of the corner of their eyes when it was he, the strongest being in the world, who should be looking down on them like a god among ants!
To his eyes, he was a deity among mortals, merely at rest, biding his time before choosing to strike them down once more for their hubris in daring to defy him.
To the eyes of every pony on the street, he was nothing but a washed-up old minotaur; scrawny and pitiful and wheelchair bound.
But as much as he despised it, Tirek had to admit that it was a perfect disguise. Far better than any ratty old cloak. No one looked twice at an old cripple. Most preferred not to look once. Combined with the story of an adopted pony granddaughter, and no one questioned anything he did. It was a miracle to be able to move so freely through the world of ponies with only a smiling child and an enchanted chair as a disguise.
Even if his hidden back legs were constantly either numb or prickly from being trapped in magically expanded space.
And he couldn't go up stairs.
And the looks.
Peering through the little window in the swinging double doors that was lowered to his seated height revealed a scene just as he'd expected. A mess. With his pretend granddaughter in the middle of it, Greaseball snickering behind his counter, and the patrons split evenly between watching the little monster try and salvage the scattered remains of a triple hayburger, and ignoring her entirely.
He turned and wheeled back to his office. So long as no one was howling about lawsuits and the floor remained free of blood, he didn’t need to intervene personally. Let Greaseball deal with it, the freak.
He settled back in his desk behind bars of spreadsheets and ink. So different from his previous cage’s bars of anti-magic maudite, yet just as tight and restrictive. Even if he were to go on a rampage this very minute, drain the kitchen, the building, the whole city of magic… it’d pale in comparison to the force the Equestrian Bureau of Taxes and Revenue would send after him when the bills came due.
He added a few more numbers, the black ink totaling red on more lines than not. Maybe it was time to rework the wages again, recoup another few bits through “training programs” and “mandatory uniform updates”.
Input and output values swarmed like locusts. The shift chart was a mess of scribbled out old names.
He needed to post another help wanted ad. There had to be a reason why they couldn't keep any employee for more than a few weeks. Obviously it wasn't because he drained a little of their magic every day, he'd been very careful to just skim off the top and go unnoticed. That had been his mistake before. Too much, too fast caught the attention of those in power. But if it wasn't the drain that made them quit, then what?
The shapeless sound of an argument wormed its way into his paper prison.
Of course. It had to be the toxic work environment. Greaseball and Crystal Lace. The vilest ponies he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting. Riding himself of them would no doubt improve morale alone by leaps and bounds.
And yet...
No one could whip teenagers into an efficient kitchen staff like Crystal Lace could. Before she’d come onboard the kitchen staff was constant, but throughput was half of what she managed to squeeze out of their sorry hides. And Greaseball, for all his unpleasantness and poor hygiene, could handle the most irate customer like a trained diplomat or noble. That, and the snake had somehow weaseled a loophole into his contract that made him all but unfireable. That's why he no longer let new hires negotiate their contracts. If they weren’t willing to sign on as is, there was always another teenager eager to take their place.
Which was really saying something considering he had the highest employee turnover rate of any Burger Princess this side of Canterlot. Something that that insufferable district coordinator loved to ream him out over during his monthly inspections. That balding worm of a pony was more puffed up on his own ego and minor degree of power than the emperors he remembered from the Old Country.
He could feel another migraine on the horizon.
Perhaps it was time for another private employee “performance review”.
A quick snack always took the edge off.
‘Smile and laugh. Play it up like I’m trying to hide panic. Overstretch to reach that hayfry while stepping on the tomato and… pratfall. Excellent.’
Ponies laughed as once again she went tail over teakettle. It would make the mess worse, but if she was going to have to clean it up anyway, why not milk the bad luck for all it was worth?
That was supposed to be the easiest part of the job. Anything that got her right up close and cozy with ponies usually landed right in her pile of skills. Friendship —and all its lesser flavors— were just so easy once she learned the rules.
Talk like this, and ponies will do that. Make this face, and ponies will react. Act a certain way, be a certain way, and ponies will give you what you want. Pure transactional friendship as regular and repeatable as math.
So why in name of all of stupid Twilight’s stupid books did all the rules go out the window the minute she got a job serving food!?
It made absolutely no sense! She’d used every trick she knew just like she had done back in the School of Friendship, but they just didn’t work anymore. It was like waking up from a long nap to find that two plus two now equalled fish and rain fell up on Wednesdays.
Day one on the job she’d readopted her cute persona. She gave all the right cues, said all the right things, made all the right faces. She even invented a new adorable catchphrase!
According to all the Rules of Friendship, ponies should have fawned over her, loved her, given her whatever she asked for. Just like at the School. By her initial plan, she should have been the restaurant’s darling unofficial mascot within a week, an official one within a month, and (assuming Tirek managed to pull through on his half of the deal and eat his way up the corporate ladder) the new face of Equestrian advertising in a year or less!
But it just. Didn’t. Work.
As long as she wore an apron and carried a tray of food, it was like the Rules of Friendship didn’t apply to her. Like she didn’t exist beyond the function she served!
Blame rained down for things outside her control. Demands for things she couldn’t possibly deliver swarmed like bats. Messes like scenes from a horror movie were left for her to clean up like she was a personal maid.
But Cozy Glow was nothing if not determined.
She created a new persona. It was easy enough; a new manestyle and color, a new cutie mark (thank you very much Starlight’s private journals for that little trick), and then just take bits and pieces of other ponies she knew to make a personality. Her coworkers swapped out quickly enough the transition phase hardly even mattered. Her first was a rough and tough filly brimming with backchat (made from two parts Rainbow Dash and one part Gallus) to fit the vibe of Manehattan.
It failed. Ponies just got angry quicker than they got dismissive.
So she tried again. Styling herself as quiet and shy filly (three parts Fluttershy, one part Ocellus, dash of Smoulder) eager to please and do her best.
Apparently, showing weakness only made customers more demanding. So much for the “Inherent Charity of the Equestrian Spirit” that Celestia liked to stamp on her banks and coins.
She made a third try as a refined and snobby filly (one part Rarity, one part Trixie, heavy undertones of Diamond Tiara) who looked down on this job forced upon her by her grandfather.
That one hadn’t lasted a single shift.
In the end, she fell back on her most familiar self. The well-worn sock is always the easiest to pull on. Plus the cute act sometimes netted a bigger tip from old grannies (though more often than not it was in hard candy instead of bits).
Cozy Glow smiled awkwardly at the crowd as she gathered the last of the scattered bits of wrapping and smashed condiment packages. “S-Sorry.” The fake stutter usually soothed tempers a bit. Usually. Would tears be pushing it? “T-There may be a teensy delay on your orders.”
The frowns she saw appear on several faces were a clear enough sign that the stutter had not been enough. She beat a hasty retreat through the Employees Only door, tossed the ruined food in a bin, and locked herself in the restroom.
Once alone, she finally let her smile melt into a frown, one that flickered into a scowl as she felt a trickle of something icky run down the small of her neck. Working at Burger Princess was… slightly better than actually being in Tartarus. In Tartarus she had dreary stone walls, here she had cheap plastic and particle board. Tartarus was filled with the screams of tortured souls and the yowls of imprisoned beasts. Burger Princess was filled with the screeching of Crystal Lace at her underlings and Greaseball’s snide comments and barely contained loathing that he somehow thought he was being sneaky about.
Both places had Tirek.
All in all, not exactly the step up in the world she’d been hoping for. It was almost enough to make her discard the plan entirely and head back out on her own. But for all her clearly superior abilities to plan ahead and make her own way… a filly her age working for her adopted grandfather was a lot less suspicious than one wandering the countryside on her own. Especially a filly that may or may not match the hoofprints of an escaped Tartarus convict, something that would doubtless come up when well-meaning country guards tried to identify and return her to whatever parents they’d assume she ran away from.
Besides, there was one upside to sticking around the horrible, nasty place.
Behind the sink, at the height only a filly her size could reach, was a loose tile hiding a carefully carved out hidey-hole. Her most secret spot, where she kept her most precious possession.
If there was any time when she needed a pick-me-up, it was while covered in sauce and cola.
She reached inside the hole and withdrew a crystal... if you were willing to get really loose with what 'crystal' meant.
It was hard and had a lot of straight flat sides... sorta. She couldn't actually look at it directly without getting a headache, but they'd been all over the walls in Tartarus, so she had a thousand corner-of-her-eye glances at them. But this one was special because it was hers. Maybe it had chosen her or maybe it was because she'd bled on it during their escape, but the crystal was hers in a weird, probably magical way she didn't have the words to describe.
It was also the key to her super-secret back-up plan, the one that not even her reluctant partner Tirek knew about.
She ran her hooves over it without looking directly at it till she found the not-crystal's blunted base and pressed it against her heart. Immediately she felt the connection form, not just to the crystal itself, but also every broken shard of it she'd hidden around the building.
And she'd hidden a lot.
Inside seat cushions and hollow chair legs. In the handles of cooking utensils and the pump levers of ketchup dispensers. Above the ceiling panels and in the cracks of the linoleum. Within the doorknobs and toilet cisterns. She'd even snuck crystal dust beneath the lamination of the employee name tags.
And through each shard there was an awareness of the ponies near to it, like inverted shadows around a dark candle. A few ponies' light-shadows looked different from the rest —like Tirek's which was all fluid, and Greaseball who had a strange double one— but the connection formed just the same. A connection that she latched on to and pulled.
She sighed in relief as a soothing flow of something entered her chest and spread out from hoof to wingtip.
Cozy Glow had no idea just what she was taking and what the ponies were losing, but nothing that felt that good could possibly be bad. Besides, if they never seemed to notice and it made her feel like a million bits, who even cared what it was?
Though there was one teensy downside.
A hammering fist on the door to the bathroom broke her from her meditative trance. The yelling didn't help either.
"Girl! You've been in there half an hour already! I don't care if you look like you walked off the set of Carrneigh, get back on delivering orders before we have a riot!"
Cozy Glow took a deep breath and let the heady feeling fade. Mostly. "Just a sec! I'm almost decent."
"Decent, feh. Like that limpet's ever been decent." He probably hadn't meant for her to hear that, but her senses were always sharper after a hit.
They were supposed to have gotten revenge together with him as the muscle and her as the brains. So how had things ended up with him crunching numbers and balancing the budget in his cushy office while she flapped her wings off all day ferrying food from kitchen to table?
Sighing, she put her precious back in its nook and used a few paper towels to wipe the worst of the mush out of her mane. There was no saving the apron, but that was okay, she had a few bits to get another out of the dispenser. Another of her manager’s ‘money-saving’ ideas.
Just another seven hours till the end of her shift, then she could clean up fully, have a quick pull on the night crew, and finally rest. And then it would all start over tomorrow.
She passed Tirek’s office where she could just make out the sound of a snapping quill and muttered curses.
She passed the kitchen where she had no difficulty hearing Miss Chef ripping into one of her staff.
Fixing her best customer service smile, she emerged back onto the main floor just in time to hear Greaseball, in that dull nasal voice of his, recite the mantra that had burned itself into her mind hearing it repeated every five minutes for eight hours a day, six days a week.
"Hello. Welcome to Burger Princess. How can I assist you today?"
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That got a good chuckle out of me.
Also, wow, I can only imagine how this vicious cycle of theft ends. Overall, really enjoyable and interesting look into their punishment.
Can we get this as a real series, por favor?
It's like Devil is a Part Timer, but with Sombra, Chrysalis, Cozy and Tirek as Workmates.
Somehow, I wouldn't be surprised if even after getting used to the crazy chaos and workplace slander, Sombra probably wouldn't even try being evil again, if it means he can stay in one piece this time, and just live a normal life as a shadowy stallion working at The McHay Burger joint.
Cozy, what are you doing? The others I get, but what are you accomplishing with that Crystal from Tartarus?
If she grows a horn in this timeline, I’m getting the taser.
10864423
I second this.
Soooo… They’re all in a constant loop of draining each other, as well as all the ponies around them, possibly losing energy when they drain energy, leaving them all roughly at the same level of power as when they started working there, with barely noticeable gains produced from their efforts.
10864443
A taser, working on a false alicorn?
Oh who am I kidding, if a snow storm can incapacitate and overwhelm two NATURAL Alicorns, then a taser would technically be overkill.
Use a Baton instead, and aim for the base of the wings.
10864443
Taser...
Just get the shotgun out of its case.
Hmmm
Lol
Well, it could be worse. Pretty sure Celestia would make sure Equestria's minimum wage was a living wage, at least.
What’s hilarious is that some of the villains actually aren’t bad at this. Chrysalis in particular seems to almost be thriving here. She almost seems like a female Gordon Ramsey.
the devil, is indeed, a part timer...
The horror! A number three with mayo! They are indeed the crew of the damned.
more please!
10864887
Less Master Chef, and more master of mindless peons. Chrysalis pretty much desires obedient fools to do her bidding and the unmotivated teens of a fast food operation are pretty much the perfect stand-in for her former subjects.
Just smart enough to be somewhat autonomous.
Just dumb enough not to question her authority.
And always just barely coordinated enough to need her constant attention and scolding.
I am now imagining Chrysalis, ten years down the line and 150 lbs heavier, contentedly scolding her latest round of employees while looking at the foolish customers who wouldn't know a good burger if it came up and hit them with a ketchup packet... Partially the mastermind of the latest promotion.
"Queen-size it! Upgrade your Princess Patty Meal to a QUEEN for just two bits! A meal fit for Royalty. Comes with a double-hayburger, extra-large fries, and a new, Queen's Goblet super-sized drink! More bang for your bits!"
Finally -- an explanation for why I lost so much joy during the months I worked at a fast food place!
10864893
This is groovy. More would be appreciated.
And then Discord is turned into stone for forcing a minor to work
What can I say except I'm lovin'it
More
10866237
Being the Empress of Friendship is work too, so it's acceptable.
A paycheck which is likely bigger than mine, in all honesty...
Eh, sorry. I'm just griping to myself. This is the sort of material I like.
10866237
That minor also attempted to kill and trap the main 6 and drain all forms of magic from Equestria, and was also allied with Tirek before their official team up with Sombra, Chrysalis and 'Grogar'.
So I'd say financial labor and dealing with entitled customers and spoiled brats is par for the course.
10866854
That Minor also did not get a fair trial, and even if she was a terrorist, she was still a minor, so she should have been send to be reformed or to somewhere to be contained, not to face customers and eat burgers
10866549
That could be, if she got the job and stayed a week or two before leaving it to someone else
10866996
Pal, you underestimate how much of a worse hell or corner of Tartarus that working at a place like McDonald's or the Hay Burger joint is.
With Reformation or being contained, there would be positive reinforcement or nothing to be said at all for her crimes against her own species and one of the students of the Princesses (at the time).
Reformation my pale and faded yellow flank and contained my ass, especially if you don't make that room she's contained in made of the same stuff the villains used to negate their magic, otherwise, how she escapes, is on them, and what happens next is all understandable.
10867017
With ponies and Discord being stupid, it could not surprise me if one day she find the door not closed or manage to make a forgery of the key
10867157
Well, yeah, but let's discuss something you said.
Fair trial? She may be a filly, but she willingly made and acted on the subconscious choice to murder the soon to be new ruler of Equestria, and her most valued allies, and even when she's stripped of her alicorn magic, and returned to her pegasus form, she still stands with the other two with no rethinking or re-evaluation of the situation or the fact that she is on the outnumbered, outpowered, and outponied, also outcreatured side of a losing battle, and yet, she still stands against the heroes.
How do you defend a crazy entitled brat who had the powers of an ancient and rare breed of equestrian life, The Alicorn, who willingly tried to end the lives of many, and helped start a damn race war that could've ended with the eternal bitter permafrozen conclusion with the windigos freezing and inevitably killing off most of pony kind, and then spreading their frozen hell to the damned eternal chaos Tirek and/or Cozy Glow could've inevitably spread to the outskirts of Equestria, just to suddenly succumb to the bitter cold they helped unleash upon this world once again!?
10867836
How do you defend a lord of chaos that played with reality as Play-Doh? How do you defend a crazy unicorn that because a friend left her decided to play with souls and time? Or maybe another that decided to steal a artifact of power to another dimension that is important to save the world? Cozy Glow could be crazy but at the same time she should have the chance to be reformed and a trial, also, if we go to specify, being a minor it should be responsibility of the tutor in this case Twilight or Starlight (As we don't know about parents but they were the headmistress and counsellor) for not keeping an eye and not notice that there was something wrong.
We could even go to Tirek because it was him who give her the ritual for stealing magic, and did she even know that doing what she was doing with the ritual was that bad? We don't have a psych evaluation of her, and even if she was not crazy, other villains had the chance to be reformed, just like I commented before, instead of being send to be reformed or to check if something was wrong, what we see is that they put a kid or teenager in a cage and send her to a prison with monsters and the same adult that convinced her to do the bad thing.
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First off, just because A unicorn got a pardon from the Princess of Friendship, doesn't mean I condone her actions or think her crimes were excusable. Plus, do you really want to be the lone individual who tries to put Discord back on the rocks by standing against Celestia's orders? Plus, Sunset Shimmer's intentions were definitely not understood properly, as she thought she had to earn the right to become an Alicorn to ascend to royalhood, but Celestia was trying to instill that friendship is all she'd really need. By taking one of the elements of harmony to another universe, yes, she could've straight up endangered the entirety of Equestria's pony and non-pony inhabitants, but again, like you suggested, each of these 3 were reformed before we could've seen something much worse.
Second off, Cozy was a manipulative little filly before her chaotic nonsense. Especially since after the Main 6 learned the truth, and Twilight wanted to know why, I didn't see the princess make an attempt to get the filly to understand what she did was wrong, as she already knew that, and still went with being crazy as hell! For all we know, Tirek wasn't the main influence, just someone with the same ideals and the actual power to act on those ideals if it wasn't for the Main 6 stepping in. They put Cozy in a cage because they learned their lesson about what they do with villains or psychos like that. Think of this as Scared Straight Gone wrong: Equestria Edition. Trying to set Cozy back on the right path, but she's worse than the actual inmate, and her childish demeanor makes it far easier to get away with psychotic shit, especially if she manages to pin her crimes on someone else unsuspecting.
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And yet, that is all, for all we know, we don't know absolutely nothing of her, and if Starlight got a pardon from the Princess of Friendship, why could a pegasus not get one? We know shit about why Cozy wanted to it, how did she do it, or if she really understood what she was doing, but she is still a minor (unless she have some equestrian dwarfism), sure she did bad things but like we commented, others did bad things and they were forgiven.
Celestia seems to think about is "out of sight, out of mind" if there is a problem, let's banish it, or hide it somewhere, and then it return to bite them back after a thousand years. And with Twilight and Luna being 'Yes, Madam, if you say it, is right' then her word is holy. What if they tried to show Cozy that she was wrong just like Twilight tried with Starlight and Sunset? I don't know, but maybe she could be convinced to not play with a fake-Grogar and Chrysalis and Tirek. What if Celestia had gone after Sunset? Maybe she could have decided to not take the Element of Magic. What if Celestia decided to try to talk with Luna instead of banish her a thousand years? Or keep a b*cking pony guard around Tartarus that could tell if Tirek managed to get out.
She was manipulative? Of course she was manipulative, she was a villain, just like Starlight, just like Sunset Shimmer, just like Flim and Flam, Suri Palomare, etc. They need to be manipulative. Celestia is also manipulative, should she be send to Tartarus?. But if Starlight and Sunset could be reformed and they were also manipulative, why could they not do something instead of throwing her in a hole?
They put Cozy in a cage because they learned their lesson... What lesson is that? That there is no friendship? The show logo is supposed to be "Friendship is Magic", or maybe they were just lazy and they did not want the work of reforming a second filly
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Yeah, but think about this. Everyone in the fandom exploded like a firework when they saw Starlight switch the Royal sisters' cutie marks, it was assumed that all of Equestria was practically doomed right then and there. Assuming most ponies would not have had any restorative sleeping hours, being plagued by nightmares that Celestia denied the existence of, leading to most of Equestria's population being driven mad, paranoid or downright just too exhausted to do their designated jobs, essentially, leading to a similar situation from the Hearts and Hooves Day special, where an entire kingdom collapsed.
If this was just as dire, Starlight would be rightfully punished, but said punishment would've been softened as it would've also fixed the royal problem all the same.
In cozy's case, she's a first time offender for something like this, but something of this grand a scale shouldn't be the case of 'here's a warning' No, teach the kid what she did wrong, explain it to her on why that's wrong, and if she still doesn't get the message, get drastic.
If it is a case of Cozy being a full grown mare, and using her child-like stature and innocent demeanor as a front due to her dwarfism, then she pretty much deserves a proper grown up punishment, not some frilly ineffective slap on the wrist.
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They managed to deal without Luna for a thousand years, And with her trying to do something about the Tantabus, I could think they could deal for a time without Luna.
Starlight was not punished for stealing cutie marks, playing with time, or brainwashing Twilight friends for a time. And is not like there are not other horrible things, Rarity with 'Inspiration Manifestation' or Twilight with the 'Want It, Need It' or Rainbow Dash trying to stop winter. Sure, it's not that bad but they were forgiven.
And how it show the kid something is wrong sending the kid to Tartarus that is supposed to be for the worst of the worst like Tirek? Even if she have dwarfism, something we are only in theory and not sure there are still jails in Equestria, you don't throw a serial killer the same place you throw a bank robber, and they should also be looking the reason why she did it, and how she did it, because I don't think it could be common if someone manage to for example make a dirty bomb because s/he was mailing a terrorist from Al Kaeda that was already in one of the most horrible prisons. We don't even know if she was even understanding that 'taking all the magic' could be very bad
This hits so much harder at work.
I feel so bad for the author who clearly had experience in this kind of job.
Wish we can see more of these guys at Hayburger.
Fun little exercise in well-earned misery, though I think it could have used an actual appearance by the the mastermi... er, the just-about-functional-mind of this little operation - a bit of context as to how Discord's schemes got them all there. Though, admittedly, it'd be difficult to make convincing considering his astonishing idiocy, but hey, there's always his co-conspirator to help.
And when you think about it, that Whinndy's cashier is probably the greatest strategist of the whole bunch - sending these misfits to the competitor and letting their continual inter-scheme sabotages just whittle it down.
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That's what I figured, though I like to imagine that Discord fixed things so that whenever they try to drain anything from anyone it redirects to one of the other four. So every customer and lower worker goes out with exactly the energy they came in with and those four are locked into a perpetual game of Tail Tag, endlessly stealing the exact same energy from each other without any of them being the wiser. It's just that little touch of sisyphean cruelty that'd be the cherry on the schadenfreude sundae.
Don't remember this happening. Maybe one of your other works?
This does feel like something Discord would do, chatting up a fast food worker for advice. It's also arguably the funniest part of the story. This soul sucking, extremely depressing story.*
Wonder what the heck this is supposed to be.
I suspect special sauce is proberbly something fairly disturbing.
Possibly the result of the aforementioned thing at the back of the freezer?
I know where this is going!
I really can't picture Chrysalis's mom, I just can't.
Daww! It just isn't a party without Cozy Glow!
You perfectly capture the experience of a hapless dork being bulled by her peers. And people wonder why I think Cozy Glow needed no origin story.
If she really is that detrimental to the store's bottom line, why hasn't she been fired yet?
So Equestria doesn't have child labor laws, and Tirek insists on Cozy Glow working out in public, despite her many fowl ups? Why? Isn't that both bad publicity, and likely to draw the attentions of certain interested parties?
I mean Equestria has always been pretty lax when it comes to crime, but are you telling me that Tirek isn't worried about the possibility of Twilight and friends stopping by, on a trip to see Rarity's newest Manehatten Fashion Line, or manage one of her most frequently checked on boutiques?
Yeah I don't buy it. I'm pretty sure by the time Tirek drained Manehatten, Equetria would have bigger problems then worrying about Taxes.
It took Chrysalis feasting on one stout pony to bring down their ruler. Even if Manehatten is the most magically weak city in all of Equestria, in terms of sheer numbers alone, Tirek should have more than enough magic to fight off any foe we've seen in cannon, sans Discord himself.
Then again it would actually make a lot of sense if Celestia sprang Discord to collect taxes. He's a remorseless sadist, with no lasting respect or empathy for anyone but himself, and if you refuse to pay your utilities, he can functionally erase them from existence. He's perfect for someone like her.
The Storm King had always admired himself for a number of things, his remarkable sense of command, natural cunning, iron will, great strength, speed, agility, and remarkable fighting prowess on the battlefield.
Now trapped in the body of one of those ridiculous ponies (worse a elderly one) only three of those traits were available to him, and he was forced to milk them for all he was worth, in order to stay on top of the cooperate heap.
Still he would be running the show by now, if not for the daily headache that was The Manehattan Burger Princess on 36th street.
Whether lack luster profits, the frequent accidents, the dwindling number of employs who would willingly work there, there were always problems with that store.
He had tried gathering evidence in order to have the staff dismissed several times, but something always came up to prevent him from doing so, from splitting migraines, to a general sense of fatigue, to even lapses in memory.
If he wasn't so afraid of being dismissed, he would have had a full workup done, to try and determine how feeble this body really was.
As it was, the only thing to get back at the store which was so clearly detrimental to his health, was to find little ways to screw with it. A misplaced shipment that got sent to another store. A minor change in the bookkeeping, making it look like the old creep who ran the place had more then he actually did.
Until he found a more permanent way of dealing with 36th street (that didn't involve reveling any career destroying nuggets of information) it was the little things that made life worth living.
Because the writer wanted you to suffer.
Aww! I'm picturing Cozy Glow dressed up as a alicorn princess and it's adorable!
That being said, face of Equetrian advertising?
So Equestria Manehattenits are jerks. Good to know.
Poor Fluffy. Addicted to crystal! And so young too!
I do like how everyone is evenly balanced though, so no villain gains a advantage over the others. Even so, sooner or later one of them is going to gain enough power to be able to compensate.
Unless the customers themselves are also sucking down some of that sweet life force, or the idea is that as long as the villains are working, they're burning through magic faster then they can replenish it.
Neither of which would surprise me, but I'm not sure it would work in cannon.
But this isn't cannon.
I've got to say it. The person who clearly has it the worst in this story... is the poor sucker carrying Sombra around. Discord thinking that was fair, I'll put down to the fact that he's a jerk.
*Still characterizations across the board are pretty good and there were a few funny moments. I especially liked Chrysalis's angry rants and Cozy's turmoil's in her new job.
You really capture the angry/miserable/depressing state of man/pony well.
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Not unless the customers are also vampires, which I wouldn't put past Discord. More likely the extra workload leaves them so drained, that even if they do steal their customers life force, the sheer effort of the work they are forced to do leaves them unable to enjoy it, or something like that.
Most likely though (given the synapsis) one of them will simply emerge from the wreckage of The Burger Princess on Manehatten 36th street, stronger than ever before.
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Huh? The point of my hypothesis (and I emphasize that's what it is, purely my own headcanon, or whatever the term would be for an inherently non-canonical fanfic - I make no claims as to its veracity or even feasibility) is that the customers are never involved in the whole cycle in the first place. The villains all think they're draining them when, in fact, they're just draining each other and never getting anywhere.
Sorry if that was unclear... and further sorry I had to explain the joke, thus ruining what little comedy it probably had.
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True but energy is flowing into the villains from the customers, not vice versa.
Meaning that unless energy is lost some other way, either through a individual we haven't yet met, or through the repeated transfer processes itself bleeding energy, they'll eventually be able to accrue more power for themselves, even if it takes a good long while to do so.
When did she meet her?
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Cozy was a "normal" student at the School for some time, presumably at least several months, during which she had to live either in the dorms or within walking distance in Ponyville. It doesn't seem unreasonable that they may have interacted offscreen.
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Works for me.
Ah the Percy Jackson disguise for a centaur
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That brings back so many memories.