//------------------------------// // Sic Semper Butt Trumpets // Story: The Silver Standard // by PatchworkPoltergeist //------------------------------// Silver Spoon took the old route back: a straight shot from school to home. No meanderings. No pit stops. No shortcuts. No temptations to stop and chat, and no real place to see or be seen. Aside from an appealing nap under an almond tree, the path held no distractions. Despite weary hooves and the tired ache in her chest—the result of a long day’s work and nothing more—Silver slipped into a trot. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could lie down. Ahead, glimpses of Davenport’s Quills and Sofas poked through the trees. How in Equestria had Silver Spoon ever been so silly, taking that meander all over town every day? Maybe there’d been a point to it once upon a time, when she needed to find her bearings around town, but not now. “Dumb waste of time, that’s all it ever was. I was right all along; my old route is perfect.” Silver brushed off the memory with a flick of the tail. “Perfect if somepony doesn’t want to be a tacky little showhorse waving her dumb tiara all over the place.” Silver rounded Davenport’s, smiling at the sight of home and her lovely little tea roses in the garden. She paused at the gate. They had a visitor. A slender unicorn with the softest white coat Silver had ever seen laughed with Brass Tacks in the gazebo. If memory served, this unicorn traveled with significant company. Company the Silvers couldn’t afford to ignore, regardless of how much one would rather shelter in one’s room wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of tea. Even tired young ladies had their duties. She owed it to Auntie to say hello, at the very least. “Welcome home, Miss Silver Spoon.” Brass Tacks opened the gate with his magic. “You’re home a bit early today.” Was she? Silver supposed that added up, since they spent half the school day with the election, and the results couldn’t have taken more than a half-hour. The mare smiled, kind but a little too coy for comfort. Silver couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been watching her. “Good afternoon, Silver Spoon. Brass Tacks here tells me you’re the one who grew these beautiful roses.” Her magic twirled a pink tea rose that matched the color of her mane. “You’ve done a magnificent job with them. Well done.” Well done. Two words—not much to ask, not much to give, and all she’d wanted to hear today. “Thank you.” Silver’s shoulders sagged with her smile. “Thank you very much.” Indeed, despite the early autumn frost last week, the roses still had a full blush in their petals. They’d last the winter with little trouble and flourish next spring. Silver had succeeded on that front, if nothing else. Under better circumstances, Silver would have offered a cup of tea. A curtsey and a hoofshake would have to do. “It’s nice to meet you again, Miss…” She glanced at Brass Tacks, who mouthed a name. “…Fleur de Lis. I saw you at my cuteceañera, didn’t I? With Mister Fancy Pants?” At the name, Miss Fleur turned toward the house, where Father and Mr. Pants held a discussion on the upstairs balcony. The coy socialite smile returned, and the toned muscles in her neck tightened. “Yes, that’s right, but I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” The unicorn curtseyed low enough for her horn to tap Silver’s shoulder. “Belated congratulations on your cutie mark, Miss Silver Spoon. May you always bear it in health.” “And you as well, ma’am.” Silver examined Miss Fleur’s elegantly muscled frame, then turned to Brass Tacks. They had a similar body type, though she stood a couple inches shorter than Tacks. Her longer horn made up for it. “How do you two know each other? Are you related?” He’d never mentioned any cousins or sisters, but Brass Tacks never talked about himself much. To the extent of Silver’s knowledge, he favored jazz music, wore flat caps on his days off, and owned a trumpet, although she’d never heard him play it. Brass Tacks tossed his head with a laugh. “We are thankfully unrelated, young miss. My word, I’d have torn my mane out decades ago.” He cheerfully ignored Fleur’s eye roll. “No, we went to school together. She was a pain then and she’s a pain now. How Fancy Pants tolerates her company all day, I’ll never know.” Above them, Mr. Fancy Pants appreciated the balcony’s view. He caught Fleur watching him and lifted his glass to her. She waved back. Tacks clicked his tongue. “Though I’ve got a few ideas.” Silver Spoon looked between the three unicorns. “Miss Fleur, are you…” She checked the perimeters and reconsidered her phrasing in case ears might be listening. “Are you Fancy Pants’ companion the same way that Brass Tacks is my butler?” “Something like that, yes.” Fleur winked and whispered, “Your butler’s still jealous he never made valedictorian at the guard’s academy. Sad, really.” Her pink eyes snapped to Tacks. “And I don’t see what you’re smirking about; I’m doing my job, thanks.” “Yes, that’s certainly one way of putting it.” Brass Tacks innocently coughed into his hoof. “One could say you’re married to your work, as it were.” “In any case, Silver Spoon, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Silver Frames has told us so much about you—oh, but she never mentioned your impeccable taste!” A glow of pink magic lifted Silver’s pearls. “Goodness, are these Aquastrian? You can’t even get these anymore! Wherever did you find them?” “They’re a cuteceañera present. I got them from…” Silver’s polite smile lost its luster. She swallowed hard. “…uh, from a friend. So, what brings you to Ponyville? We don’t get many Canterlotters in town.” Miss Fleur pricked her ears. “You mean you don’t know? The Riches invited us to some sort of party, a… victory party, I think?” Somehow, she even managed to make furrowing her brow elegant. “Oh, I do hope I haven’t confused our appointments. You know the Riches’ daughter, don’t you?” Silver dropped her smile entirely. “Yeah. I know her.” Did Spoiled Rich plan a surprise party, or had she simply “forgotten” to extend an invitation to the Silvers? Either way, dozens of social resources and favors must have gone down the drain getting somepony like Fancy Pants all the way to Ponyville. I bet Diamond’s getting the riot act right about now. Silver Spoon curled her tail with a disdainful sniff. “I’m sorry to say you’ve wasted a trip, Miss Fleur de Lis. There won’t be a party this afternoon.” The casual amusement faded from Brass Tacks’ face. He and Fleur traded a frown. “What makes you say that, Silver Spoon?” Fleur’s tone softened to the patronizing brand of concern adults only used for stupid foals who’d tumbled down the stairs and hurt themselves. There were no such foals here. “Oh, it’s quite simple: there can’t be a victory party without a victory. Miss Diamond Tiara ran for student pony president today, but instead of campaigning she decided that the best course of action would be to stuff all four hooves in her mouth, ignore her campaign manager, and go down in flames.” Silver idly investigated her hoof polish. Not a scratch. “You know, like she always does.” “Ooh.” Fleur gave a sympathetic flinch. “Somepony’s had a fight,” she whispered. Brass Tacks nodded. “Hmph. I wouldn’t call it a fight. Diamond got eviscerated by the election results and decided to throw a tantrum about it, that’s all.” Silver shrugged. “I’m too old for tantrums. Anyway, that’s why there won’t be a party.” “That is a pity. Still, I wouldn’t call it a waste.” Tacks gave a meaningful glance toward the house. “At least Fleur and Fancy Pants still have a chance to take in the country air, yes?” “Oh, yes! In fact, this is the perfect time of day for it. I think I’ll suggest it right now.” Fleur bowed to them both and took her leave. “Lovely seeing you, Miss Silver Spoon.” Tacks cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “Would you care for a cup of emergency tea, Young Miss Silver?” “Thank you for offering, but it won’t be necessary because there’s no emergency. Diamond’s not my problem.” She rolled her stiff shoulders and remembered her sore hooves. “But if it’s not too much trouble, I wouldn’t mind a rosewater bath. And maybe early dinner?” “Of course, Silver Spoon.” He waited for her to join him on the lawn and the two of them made their way across the garden. “Would you like to talk about it?” “No.” Pip’s scrambling hooves slipped short of the edge. “Whoa—oof!” He plopped into the grass with a wet splash. Silver Spoon popped open her umbrella and peered over the edge of Bon Bon’s porch. “You know there’s stairs, right? You don’t need to jump up here.” “No, no, I’ve got it. Stand back—I’m gonna give it another go.” Pipsqueak shook the rain off his coat and took a running leap. All four hooves landed clean on the porch. “Ha! Easy as pie, what’d I tell you?” He beamed with all his teeth and way too much enthusiasm for somepony who’d fallen in a puddle three times. “G’morning, Silver Spoon! Sorry you had to come out so early.” “No problem. Seven in the morning’s still better than six.” Compared to Diamond’s usual hours, Silver had practically slept in. “I wish we had better weather, though.” Rain pattered against the dripping awning of Bon Bon’s Sugar Shack. Hooves stomped and ponies fussed inside while furniture scraped against the floor. From what Silver could gather, somepony had left their dirty dishes all over the couch last night and the whole living room still had to be dusted. “By the way, why are we doing this here and not at, like, your house?” Silver paused, remembering what Pip’s room looked like. “Actually, this is fine.” “Twist says her house is too little for comp’ny, and Truff’s is too far away.” Pip leaned against the house, smiling at nothing in particular. In the gray morning, his spotted coat gleamed, and the mud stains blended in with his natural markings. He faintly smelled of the pomade that slicked back his mane. “I like your hair,” said Silver Spoon. “Very presidential.” Too bad the rain would wash the pomade out before lunchtime. “Do you know if Truffle Shuffle’s coming today?” “Depends how he’s feeling. I asked Twist to tell his grandma that it’s very, very import for him to come to school, but with all this rain I dunno if—oh! Oh, there they are!” Pip waved both hooves over his head at the pair of raincoats headed up the path. “Hullo, guys!” “Hiya!” Twist slung her foreleg around her companion. “Lookit who I brought!” The round yellow raincoat looked up, and a round muzzle poked out from under the bucket hat. A muddy rainboot waved to them. Silver Spoon wiped the fog off her lenses. “A mushroom with feet?” The mushroom with feet stuck its tongue out at her. “Manners, Mr. Truffle Shuffle.” Silver winked at him. “That’s not very becoming of a vice president.” The bucket hat popped up to reveal a pair of wide eyes. Truffle squinted at Secretary Silver, then at President Pipsqueak and Councilpony Twist. His brow furrowed in confusion. Slowly, he pointed to himself. “Yeah, mate, it’s you!” Pipsqueak laughed and shook Truffle’s withers. “Assuming that is you under all that rubber. You look like you’re about to go on one of The Dink’s lake monsta hunts.” The front door swung open. “There is not now, nor has there ever been a monster living in Sweetshine Lake. I don’t know where you foals get these crazy ideas.” Bon Bon smiled down at them, mane bouncing on her shoulders, fresh from their curlers. “Come on in, the living room’s all set up for you. Wipe your hooves, please.” She bent down to give Twist a nuzzle. “Morning, Twist-a-loo.” “Hiya Auntie Bonnie! Thorry we’re late, but Truff couldn’t find hith left rainboot, tho we had to look all over…” Twist and Pip headed for the living room while Silver Spoon shook the rain off her umbrella and Truffle stayed behind to get rid of their rain gear. The cool air of the house hit Truffle Shuffle’s bare fur and his shoulders slacked with relief. He kicked off his last rainboot with a snort. “I’m glad you came,” Silver told him. “We really missed you yesterday.” She pointed to the tartan scarf double-looped around his neck. “Isn’t that kind of hot under your raincoat?” “Mm-hm.” An ultimatum from his grandma, judging by the face Truffle pulled. He cleared his throat and motioned Silver Spoon closer. “How?” The sandpaper croak gave Silver goosebumps. That voice didn’t sound close to healed. “How what?” “The election,” he rasped. “How am I vice president again?” “You came in second, of course.” She shrugged off Truffle’s skeptical expression. “Okay, fine, not by a lot. Three votes, counting yourself, but it’s still two more votes than Diamond got. A win’s a win.” Truffle Shuffle mouthed a silent “oh.” After a moment of thought, he pointed a questioning hoof at Silver. “Excuse you, it’s supposed to be a secret ballot.” Considerably less secret after bad losers had rooted through it, but still. Silver examined the paisley wallpaper, the tip of her tail swishing against the welcome mat. “I chose the best pony for the job, Truff; that’s you. It always was. If you want, next year I can help you run a campaign—a real one.” Truffle smothered her in a bear hug. “Uh.” Silver blinked. Were politicians allowed to hug on the clock? She settled for a pat on the back. “You’re welcome?” The grin faded. “Hey, Sil—” Truffle winced, massaging his throat. He pulled a notepad out of his coat pocket and wrote, “Twist told me what happened with Diamond Tiara at the election.” Silver drew back. “Lots of things happened at the election, you’ll have to be more specific.” Not in the mood for games, Truffle sighed and added to the paper, “You know what I mean, Silver Spoon.” He underlined “know” twice. “You ok?” “More or less.” Last night’s bath lasted an hour and a half. Silver Spoon spent the better part of twelve hours drifting in and out of a (mostly) peaceful and dreamless sleep. Neither had especially helped. The exhaustion had faded, but her withers still ached, and sometimes she felt a phantom tug at the base of her braid. The tartar of I didn’t ask you to speak still coated her ribs, and if Silver Spoon thought about it too long, her chest felt tight and waterlogged all over again. She’d tried herbal teas to perk her up, but tea only went so far. There was only one real remedy for an earth pony in pain. “Alright.” Silver narrowed her eyes. “Let’s go to work.” Two halves of a circular couch dominated Bon Bon’s living room, with a round coffee table centered in the middle. The area more resembled a fire pit than a lounge area, perfect for groups of ponies to gather and talk. Everypony could see and hear each other without stretching their necks or reaching across the world to get something on the opposite end of the table. Silver could see why Twist insisted on this spot; Bon Bon’s living room could support a council meeting twice this size. A smaller table sat in the far corner, where Lyra struggled with a bottle of ketchup and a small pile of pancakes. “Hi, kids. Don’t mind me, I’ll be out of your hair in a sec.” Ketchup spluttered and coughed over the short stack. Silver Spoon turned grayer than usual. Another note slipped into Silver’s hoof: “I know. I saw it, too.” Truffle gave her a sympathetic pat and joined Twist on the left side of the couch. The notebook flipped to a fresh page, and he switched to a marker to write with. “Can’t talk at the school board meeting, but Gran says I can still come.” Pipsqueak took the opportunity to sample the butterscotch while Silver joined him on the right half of the couch. Hopefully he didn’t count this bowl of candy as his breakfast. “That’s great, Truffle. With the whole council together, we match the board’s numbers four to four. Maybe we’ll even outnumber ‘em if we can get some more ponies to sign up before class ends today.” Even numbers or not, Silver still didn’t like those odds. Still, a fuller council would look better, if nothing else. “Can foals really walk in and get a council seat? Just like that?” “Yup, if there’th thtill a theat open for ‘em.” Twist leaned on the edge of the couch, waving her hooves over the side. “That’th how we got you, remember?” “Huh. So does that mean we could get more council officers?” Silver’s back sank into the soft upholstery as she thought. “We could use a treasurer, or a… what do you call it, a sergeant at hoof. I know it’s last second, and they’d have to learn everything fast, but Pip’s still learning this stuff too, so maybe they can learn together. It’s tough, but still possible.” Silver smiled at the room, but only Pipsqueak smiled back. “Isn’t it?” Truffle Shuffle rubbed the back of his neck with one hoof, and gave her a wobbly sorta-kinda-not-really hoof gesture with the other. “Ehhhh…” He thought about it a few more seconds, then shook his head. “Not in nine hourth. You chose to be thtudent thecretary, remember? We didn’t have to come looking for you. We could athk Cheerilee, but even if we found a foal, it’d be kinda awkward, ‘cause, uh…” A thunderhead of red tangles sagged over Twist’s glasses. She twiddled her hooves and looked down. “Technically we, um… already have a treasurer?” Silver Spoon pieced it together. She scowled. “Ohhh, right—Diamond Tiara came in third, so she gets the next seat down, after Silver Spoon.” Pip smiled atop his small mountain of accent pillows, proud of himself for remembering. “But she never claimed it, right? Does that even count?” “Hm.” Truffle flipped open the council rulebook and searched for an answer. In the meantime he wrote, “What do you think Diamond will do when she shows up?” “That’s IF she shows up,” said Silver Spoon, “and it’s a pretty big ‘if’. When Diamond Tiara loses this hard she usually sulks in a corner somewhere to lick her wounds for a couple of days. She doesn’t start plotting vengeance for, like, a week, at least. Usually.” But this hadn’t been a usual loss. Before yesterday, her defeats were mostly private affairs—even if she’d lost the prize in public, Diamond vented behind closed doors. Opportunities for a solid counterattack normally didn’t surface for days, if not weeks, but today it sat square in her lap. Then, there’s the biggest missing factor: me. Without Silver for moral support and a grounding tether, who knew what to expect? Considering how unhinged Diamond had been yesterday, that didn’t bode well. Silver Spoon flattened her ears. Sun above, I hate wild cards! Regardless, Silver knew one thing for sure: either nothing would happen at all, or they’d see a maelstrom to shame Commander Hurricane himself. “Diamond Dazzle Tiara doesn’t do fourth place. If she does show up, she won’t come to be treasurer.” She leveled her gaze at the president. “She’ll be after you, Pip.” Pipsqueak shrugged. “I already got elected, what else could she even do?” “Plenty.” In fact, with Diamond’s stepmom leading the school board and a special talent tailor-made for verbal teardowns, nopony held a secure seat in the council. If it were Silver, she’d accept the treasurer position, rot Pip’s administration from the inside out, and stage a takeover come next spring’s school board meeting. Thank goodness Di didn’t have that kind of patience. “Look, I don’t know what Diamond Tiara will do this afternoon.” Last night’s headache came roaring back for round two. Silver rubbed her temples. “I do know that she’s not the pony we need to worry about, though.” Truffle nodded with a frown. With his hooves full cross-referencing the rulebook, he rasped, “Mrs. Rich is rough, and the budget’s—” Flinching, he rubbed his throat. “—still tight.” Silver shuddered. “Okay, new rule: you don’t get to talk until you quit sounding like you swallowed a cactus farm. Here.” She slid a thermos across the table. Grinning, Truffle Shuffle unscrewed the cap and sniffed the iced tea inside. “We thought of trying to get a look at what the thchool’th money lookth like ahead of time—to figure out thome kinda budget plan, you know?—but Mith Cheerilee thaid it’th over our headth. We’d have to go to town hall for that, I think.” Twist cuddled against the sofa, chewing a stray strand of hair as she thought it over. “We’ve got all the bake thale money we never uthed. That oughta help a lot!” Miss Cheerilee kept the council record books at a cabinet at school, but Silver still remembered most of the numbers. “We raised around five hundred, counting the gourmet bake sale and the talent show, right? Why don’t we suggest another school activity and pool the bits with whatever we make from that?” A grimace twisted the vice president’s face. He glared at Silver Spoon, who motioned him to keep drinking. If the herbal blend didn’t agree with Truffle Shuffle, too bad. If he wanted his throat to heal faster, he’d have to deal with it. After another dirty look in Silver’s direction, he wrote, “Could work with support. Council gets to sit in on school board meetings, but we don’t say much.” “But last year, only you two sat on council,” President Pipsqueak pointed out. “It probably looked like nopony cared about stuff that ‘appened with the school, so maybe…” As he glanced between the other foals, a smile dawned across his face. “If everypony shows how much we all want a new playground, the school board will have to see how important it is!” “Yeah!” Twist banged her hoof on the table. “Power to the ponieth—that’th what democrathy ith all about!” That sounded more like what mob rule was all about, but Silver conceded Twist’s point. “Even if Mrs. Rich heads the board, the other members could still outvote her. I’m sure we can guarantee Miss Cheerilee’s vote, so we’ll need to convince the other two.” Truffle nodded without enthusiasm and slid his notepad across the table. “Better than nothing. Let’s try it.” The eyeball cracked between The Dink’s teeth. Gum oozed from the pupil and mashed into a sticky red pulp. “Mm, raspberry. You bet I can, Spoons.” Her hoof toyed with the bag of novelty gumballs Silver had slipped under the desk. “In fact, I’ll do you one better—yo, Shades! Heads up!” The Dink magicked a paper bird over the rows and onto Shady Daze’s desk. “He can run off a flyer or two, I bet.” “Thanks.” Silver Spoon motioned towards the desk next to her, where Pip chatted up Rumble, Snips, and Snails. “Our president thanks you, too.” Last year’s seating rearrangement had been a blessing in disguise. Silver sat adjacent to two of the most popular fillies in school and beside the new student pony president. A web of acquaintances and friends-of-friends rippled from here to every desk in the classroom. If needed, Silver could ferry notes across the aisles in seconds. Just like real estate. Silver waved at Shady’s nod of acknowledgment. Location, location, location. Beside Shady’s desk, a pair of pink ears twitched and perked. Diamond Tiara lifted her head from her desk, following the trajectory of Dinky’s paper glider. The two fillies made eye contact. Diamond shifted higher in her seat, chewing her bottom lip and tapping her polished forehooves together. Silver stared back. Diamond’s ears drooped. She attempted a smile. Without breaking the stare, Silver Spoon opened her notebook and pulled her textbook out of her desk. She felt the eyes of the classroom upon them. The stare went arctic. Diamond Tiara folded first. Her eyes darted down and across the rows, scouting a path to Silver’s desk. No deal; other foals walled her from all sides. If she wanted to talk, Diamond either had to talk over somepony’s head or squeeze behind Berry Pinch. Indeed, Silver couldn’t have picked a better location. A pencil bounced between Diamond’s teeth while she ripped a sheet of paper from her notebook. Did she plan a paper glider of her own, or expect the class to pass it along? No. Silver Spoon narrowed her eyes with an unmistakable frown. Whatever it is, the answer is no. “Hey, Spoons.” A red bubble ballooned and popped by Silver’s ear. “How you holding up over there?” “Never better.” Silver didn’t break the stare until Diamond Tiara flattened her ears and turned away. “But I’d keep that gum out of sight if I were you; Miss Cheerilee will be here any second. The gumballs quietly slipped into Dinky’s giant coat pocket. “Hm.” She scratched a sweaty spot under her collar, glancing between the front and middle rows and never lingering on anypony too long. “Good call.” Whispers wriggled through the rows. Foals shifted in their seats for a glimpse at two halves of a cracked friendship, armed with “looking for my pencil” or some other excuse in case anypony called them out on their rubbernecking. If she didn’t need the student body’s goodwill today, Silver Spoon would have done exactly that. Ponies needed to mind their own stupid business and do their schoolwork. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle either didn’t have the tact or the subtlety to pretend not to stare. Scootaloo seemed too busy whispering in their ears to stare at anypony. Didn’t those three have better things to do, like getting their cutie marks in lava surfing? Berry Pinch turned around, one hoof lazily dangling over the back of her chair. A peppermint stick—one of Twist’s incentives—bounced between her teeth. “Silver Spoon.” When Silver doubled down on skimming her geography notes, Pinch knocked on the desk. “Hey. I’m talkin’ to you. Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore ponies?” “What is it, Pinch? I’m trying to study.” “Yeah, I know. That’s last week’s Badlands notes, right?” “Oh!” Silver blinked a couple of times. “Um, yes—yes, it is.” She flipped her notebook around to show bullet points from Cheerilee’s lecture. A map of the scarce landmarks in San Palomino Desert decorated the margins, complete with cacti, coyotes, and mysterious temples. “I guess you want to copy them for next week’s test?” Though Silver had no clue why Pinch wanted Silver’s help, of all foals. “Hey Pinchers, check it out!” The Dink pulled a grapefruit-sized parasprite made entirely of chewed gum out of her pocket. She spat out her fresh red wad of gum and added it to the pile. “The eyes are almost done, see?” …Okay, maybe Silver had some idea why. Dinky’s findings on local monsters, magical anomalies, and Twist’s auntie left no room in her notebook for schoolwork. “Aw, that’s radical, Dinkster!” The unicorns bumped hooves. “At this rate, you’ll get the wings done before the new moon.” Turning back to Silver’s notes, Berry Pinch pulled out her own. “Nah, I wanted to double-check my stuff is all.” Silver slid the notebook with a shrug. “Knock yourself out.” “Good morning, class!” On the doormat, Miss Cheerilee wrung the water out of her mane. The ceiling hissed and rattled under a cloudburst of rain and hail. “Ha, that’s one good reason to get to school on time, right? I hope any tardy ponies know how to swim to class.” Only Truffle Shuffle chuckled at Cheerilee’s little joke. “Rumble? Cotton Cloudy?” Their teacher smiled at the two damp pegasi. They’d probably helped herd the clouds in this morning. “Thank you again for asking the weather team to postpone the storm until after the election.” Cotton’s feathers fluffed until she looked like a happy, soggy cauliflower. “You’re welcome!” “Y-yeah…” Rumble sank into his chair with a shy little smile. Thunder clapped hard. He gripped the edge of his desk for dear life. “No p-problem, Miss Cheerilee.” “Speaking of which, we had an amazing turnout yesterday—the biggest I’ve seen since…” Cheerilee tapped her chin. “Well, I can’t even remember! For those of you who couldn’t join us on Thursday, I would like to introduce you all to our newest Student Pony President, Pipsqueak!” Pip stood atop his booster and waved to the applauding classroom. “I jus’ want to say thanks again to the Cutie Mark Crusaders for helping me with my campaign.” “YAY PIPSQUEAK!” Somepony really needed to explain the concept of indoor voices to those three. “And let’s hear it for our two runners-up, who ran a great race and held an exciting and unique debate!” One had to admire Cheerilee’s skill for lying through her teeth in the name of her students’ egos. Certain incumbents’ bloated selfish egos didn’t need a boost, but whatever. “Truffle Shuffle and Diamond Tiara really gave it their all.” Cheerilee’s applause echoed alone in the schoolhouse. After a moment, the weak patter of student applause joined it, along with murmurs of “Did you know the tattletale was even running?” and “Still can’t believe she did that,” and “Did you see the way Silver Spoon looked at her?” In the top corner of the class, a little tiara sank behind an open textbook with an audible groan. Silver folded her hooves and gave the teacher her full attention as any good little student ought. Everypony who voted yesterday, it turned out, would get extra credit to bump up their lowest test grade. Even better, the candidates and their campaign runners received an additional ten-point boost on the upcoming social studies exam. Nice. Silver Spoon preened. It’s been a while since I got a hundred-and-ten to show off. “With that settled,” said Miss Cheerilee, “let’s get to today’s lesson, shall we? Yesterday, we talked about the cities of southwestern Equestria, which includes…?” Peachy Pie raised her hoof. “Dodge City?” “That’s southeast, Peachy, but good try. Anypony else?” Cheerilee nodded. “Silver Spoon?” “Las Pegasus floats fifty miles north and two miles high of San Palomino Desert.” Silver flipped her braid with a prim little smile. “It’s a tourist city, and they have more imports than exports.” “Yeah,” added Pip, “’cause whatever happens in Pegasus stays in Pegasus!” The class laughed. “Oh! Oh!” Apple Bloom waved both hooves in the air. “Applewood’s in the southwest, too; it’s a little ways outside Las Pegasus, nestled right in the big hills.” At the mention of Applewood, Diamond Tiara gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. If she kept that up, Cheerilee would get on her case for sleeping in class. “Wonderful, Apple Bloom—you too, Silver Spoon. I’m glad to see you all turning into such talented geographers. Let’s see how all of this looks on the map, shall we?” Without looking, Cheerilee pulled down the scroll behind her. Instead of the usual map of Equestria, there was only a blank white sheet. “As you can see, plenty of landmarks can be found—oh, yes, Tornado Bolt?” “I think you forgot to put the map up, Miss Cheerilee.” “Oh? Did I?” Cheerilee tilted her head with a perplexed squint. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound right. Are you sure?” “Yes!” cried the class. Foals pointed at the wall calling, “It’s gone!” and “Look behind you, don’t you see it?” and “I bet burglars stole it!” and “Mith Cheerilee, maybe you should think about getting thome glatheth?” Their teacher turned with a fake gasp of surprise. “You’re right, class! The map’s completely disappeared. Huh, whadda you know?” She put a hoof on her hip, tisking as if somepony had left their wet towels on the sink. “Well, I suppose we’ll just need to draw a new one!” Silver didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded suspiciously like they’d have to— “Pair up, everypony!” Cheerilee did a quick head count. “Featherweight’s not here, so we’ll need one group of three—” The Crusaders pushed their desks together. “—but I don’t think that’ll be a problem. Let’s get to it, everypony!” Crud. Silver scanned the foals adjacent to her: The Dink and Berry Pinch, Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie, Cotton and Tornado Bolt, Pip and Shady Daze. All sets of besties and guaranteed partners. That cut more than half of Silver’s options. Diamond Tiara rose from her desk. She’d be at Silver’s in seconds. Truffle Shuffle and Twist had already paired up—not that Silver could have reached them in time anyway. Okay… okay, other options? She could flee all the way to Rumble’s desk up front, but that would be too obvious. Plus, he sat dangerously close to Diamond who’d be here any moment and then Silver really couldn’t avoid talking to her anymore and she couldn’t even say no because it’d be rude and not many partners were left, and besides, Silver Spoon didn’t even really know if she really wanted to say no or what to say at all. “Hey, you got a partner yet, Silver?” Berry Pinch snapped off her peppermint stick and stuck the rest behind her ear for later. “You can work with me if you wanna. The Dink’s already decided to work with Rumble, right Dink?” This was clearly news to Dinky Doo, but she took it in stride. “Sure have.” “Sounds good, Berry Pinch.” Silver Spoon made a point of not listening to the pause of polished hoofsteps, nor their slow retreat back to the front row. She didn’t look up when Diamond asked if she could work without a partner, and Silver certainly didn’t care how sad she sounded. “Hmph. I don’t know what she’s moping about. As I recall, Diamond Tiara would rather ignore everypony and do it all herself anyway.” Silver’s muzzle curled into a sneer. “What’s she need a partner for?” Berry Pinch aligned their desks together with a satisfying clack. “I dunno. Helps to have another set of hooves to draw stuff, I guess?” Her magic flipped Silver’s notes to the page with the San Palomino map. She stared at it and clicked her tongue. “I’m doing that part, by the way, ‘cause you draw about as good as you throw a hoofball.” “I do not!” “I dunno if you think being from the big city gives you some kinda edge in the art world, but we ain’t doing abstract Coltlocks or Pinto Picasso over here.” Her hoof swept the desert border. “This looks like an amoeba pooping another amoeba—and what’s up with this fountain in the corner? Fountains don’t belong in the desert.” “It is a cactus, thank you.” Silver Spoon snorted at Pinch’s snickering. “Oh, like you can do so much better.” A hoard of stubby crayons, faded markers, and smudged inkwells clacked on Berry’s desk while Silver arranged the poster paper Cheerilee had given them. “Uh, yeah I can—that’s why I’m doing it.” Teeth gleamed in Pinch's playful smirk. “I thought you could’ve figured that out on your own, Little Miss Smarty Smart Let’s-Name-All-The-Imports-Of-Las-Pegasus Smarty-pants.” “Whatever, less work for me. I’d rather plot out the cities and write the information, anyway.” They’d been assigned the mid-north, along with the mountains and city-states clustered within it. Silver rooted through her notebook for the Neighagara Falls page. If she remembered right, Cloudsdale parked itself mid-north of the Falls when not delivering winter or gathering reservoir water. Hollow Shades tucked itself in the mountains south of that. However, she couldn’t do much of anything until Berry Pinch finished drawing the borders, so Silver Spoon rested her head in her hooves and watched. “Not bad.” Excellent, actually, but Canterlot would crumble before Silver admitted it. Pinch grinned. “Told ya. I draw all the comics and illustrations in the paper, too.” “Aren’t those, like, literally stick figures?” “It’s called having a style. Try it sometime.” It must have been hard to talk and steady a pencil with magic at the same time. Sweat beaded on Berry Pinch’s neck, and she squinted with effort. “I used to draw all the posters and blueprints and stuff for Diamond, too, before she decided to be the biggest butt in the universe blowing her butt trumpet all over the place.” The landmark waterfalls rippled under her sigh. “That’s the thing about butts: you get close to them, you try to help and then the butt does what it’s meant to do and then you’re sitting in the middle of an outhouse without an umbrella.” Silver Spoon wrinkled her nose. “Ew.” “You’re telling me.” Berry Pinch paused. The metaphor seemed to have gotten away from her. “Anyway, that’s sorta why I didn’t get mad at you about the Press thing. The filly’s stubborn and mean, and sometimes she gets madder than the drunks Mom kicks out. But Diamond Tiara’s not dumb. I knew she’d accept the truth eventually, and then you’d get as good as I got.” She lashed her raggedy tail and shot a glance at Diamond working alone on the Griffish Isles. “My mom says it’s not worth it to get mad about this kind of stuff, cause everypony gets what they deserve in the end.” “Do they?” asked Silver Spoon. “I dunno, but that’s what she says.” Pinch wiped her forehead and set the pencil down. “I hope she doesn’t screw up your student council thingy. I really want my swings back.” “Yeah, but if I know Di, she’s got a full schedule of moping this afternoon. I’m not worried. Are you finished drawing?” Berry Pinch nodded. “Still needs to be inked, but we can do that part together. You can draw the rivers, too, if you want. Here’s some blue.” The stub of cerulean crayon barely fit in Silver’s mouth, much less left anything to draw with. “That’s okay, you can do it. Pip thinks we’ll be okay if we can get at least half the class to show up to the school board meeting.” Silver glanced at Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle working on the Ponyville and Canterlot section of the map. “Although we don’t need everypony to show up.” Following Silver’s line of sight, Pinch raised an eyebrow. “So, what the hay’s your deal with the Crusaders, Silver Snob? They didn’t do nothing to you, and besides, Shady says that Rumble says that Scootaloo says that you guys have a truce going on.” She nudged the inkwell in Silver’s direction. “Yes, but that has nothing to do with liking them.” Besides, Apple Bloom had all but disintegrated the truce in yesterday’s debate. “Some ponies get under your coat, that’s all. Sweetie Belle’s okay, but the other two are so… so…” Silver stamped her little hoof. “Rude!” Berry Pinch stared. “Well, they are.” Silver Spoon dipped her calligraphy pen and began labeling Cloudsdale’s imports. “Silver, The Dink put an entire tarantula in her mouth once.” Berry Pinch nodded at Silver’s skeptical expression. “I saw it. The spider freaked out and shedded all these weird hairs in her mouth and she had to go to the hospital and Fluttershy got real mad at us.” Dinky Doo punched the air. “Worth it!” “That’s different. Dink’s not rude, she’s…” The calligraphy pen rolled between Silver’s teeth. “…eccentric.” And way, way less annoying. Dinky never went out of her way to throw a wrench in Silver’s plans. The pen went limp in her jaw. Silver set it down and rubbed her withers. They felt sore again. “Okay, look. Maybe the Crusaders aren’t the worst ponies in the world—or even the school—but I’d rather not deal with them. When they’re not stirring up trouble, then they’re dragging me into Diamond’s trouble and right now, I’d rather…” For some stupid reason, Silver’s throat grew tight and her breath drew short and that didn’t even make sense because Diamond’s trouble wasn’t Silver’s problem anymore. She didn’t care at all—at ALL—about Diamond Tiara or whatever stupid quagmire she’d pushed herself into. She didn’t. “Pinch, I’d just rather not, okay?” “M’kay.” When Silver Spoon finished labeling Cloudsdale’s exports, Berry Pinch dipped her own quill and went to work inking the map. For a scruffy little jerk with no manners, she drew beautifully clean lines. “So, I’ve got a dentist appointment, and I can’t get to the board meeting today, but I’ve been wondering.” Silver pricked her ears. “What are you going to do about Spoiled Rich?” The fountain pen balanced precariously between Silver’s teeth as she traced the border of Hollow Shades. Little flecks of ink smudged her nose. “My best,” she said. “Who speaks first?” Silver pulled a comb from her saddlebag, along with a miniature bottle of dry conditioner and the pomade Tacks delivered at recess. She caught Pip’s mane before he ducked away from her again. “Come here and stay still! You look more like a hobo than the president. Presidents don’t squirm.” “A sergeant at hoof talks, but we don’t have one, so—ow—I’m the one that’s going t’do that instead, and I’m not—OW!” Pipsqueak wriggled out of Silver’s hooves, his ears flat against his head. “I’m not squirming, you’re pulling ‘alf my mane out by the roots!” The comb ripped through the tangles to part the president’s mane. “That is not my fault. You’ve got like a billion knots in here because somepony decided to mess up his mane playing hoofball at recess—” “The rain messed it up.” “—and now I need to sort it out again.” Silver spread pomade over the colt’s mane until it smoothed. Inside, the clock read a quarter after three. Fifteen minutes left. “Who’s the foal allowed to speak, Pip?” “Whoever’s holding the white stick.” Pipsqueak flattened himself against the ground. What, did he want grass stains on his belly, too? “Silver Spoon, is all this really necessary? It’s only hair; it’s got nothing to do with the playground plan.” On the sidelines, somepony snickered. Silver spared a glance towards the broken merry-go-round, where Snips, Snails, and Button Mash watched them. She rolled her eyes. Colts. “It’s got everything to do with it, Pip. How can anypony believe you’ve got your plan straight if you can’t even keep your mane together? Appearances matter, Mister President. A lot.” “Well, I think that’s stupid.” Pip crossed his forelegs, twitching his tail while the other colts kept snickering. “Good hair doesn’t fix roundabouts. It shouldn’t matter at all.” “Maybe not,” Silver said, “but it does, so we have to accommodate like ladies and gentlecolts.” “Blech, you sound like my sister.” “Good.” Against Mrs. Rich, a handsome figure could be Pip’s only shot. If she didn’t approve of Berry Pinch—who had scruffy split ends and dirty hooves at worst—then she surely wouldn’t approve of Pip’s mane. Silver Spoon stepped back to look him over. “Better. Could use some flair.” She cupped her hooves around her muzzle and called, “Anypony have a spare bow tie?” Nopony did, of course. “Yeah, Pip. Bow ties look great on puppets.” Diamond stalked past without looking at them. “You’ll be so handsome when Silver cuts your strings.” “Oh. Did somepony say something?” Silver Spoon smoothed Pip’s mane around his ears and glanced at the sky. “Must’ve been the wind. Or some other blowhard.” Diamond stomped off with a halfhearted snort. Twist came to join them, Truffle Shuffle following close behind. “Tho, uh. Should we be worried about her?” From a distance, Silver caught the weak anger flaring from Diamond’s voice; flames with no heat. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had caught her by the schoolhouse fence. “No. Diamond Tiara has enough to deal with. She’ll leave us alone.” A twinge of sympathy nipped at Silver Spoon. She didn’t know what Apple Bloom’s crew had planned, but it had to boil down to either vengeance or pity. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. For Di’s sake and the shreds of dignity she had left, Silver hoped it was vengeance. Forget it. It’s not your problem. Silver Soon adjusted her pearls, polished her glasses, and swallowed the lump bubbling up her throat. Inside Ponyville Schoolhouse, wood creaked and scraped and groaned across the floor. Voices mumbled amongst themselves. The school board had arrived. A healthy sample of foals hung around what remained of the playground, with no sign of leaving soon. “Look at all the thupport we got!” Twist waved at Tornado Bolt sitting on the roof. The president and vice president exchanged hopeful looks. Secretary Silver smoothed Pipsqueak’s mane again and peeked through the window. School desks lined along the wall to form a bullpen in the center. The council’s four small desks stood opposite of two long ones. Tall Order spoke with Miss Cheerilee beside the left table while she set up a water pitcher and a plate of crackers. A yellow unicorn stallion with a sensible haircut—Pencil Pusher, Truffle had called him—had already seated himself at the far right of the desks. He flipped through a novel and looked like he’d rather be rearranging his socks. Mrs. Spoiled Rich took a seat beside him. Ears twitching, she turned her head towards the window. Silver Spoon gulped and ducked out of sight. “O-kay!” Miss Cheerilee stepped out of the schoolhouse, smiling the same up-and-at-‘em-try-not-to-die smile from standardized test week. “We’re all ready for you, student council.” She smiled at the massing crowd. “Goodness, I didn’t think there’d be so many of you here. You know, only the student government is allowed to attend the meeting.” “We know, Miss Cheerilee, but everypony felt so strongly about the playground, they all wanted to come out and show their support.” Pip grinned to his classmates. “Right, guys?” “Yeah!” the crowd roared back. With a crisp new manecut and optimism practically radiating off of his coat, Pipsqueak looked every bit the students’ president. There could be no doubt he had total faith in his proposal, his council, and the knowledge that everything would work out in the end. Watching him, Silver’s jittery nerves settled and steeled. She grinned back. “Let’s go get our playground.” It became devastatingly clear they were not going to get their playground. Not a full one, at least. Silver Spoon ran both hooves through her mane, staring into the budget book’s wasteland of figures, footnotes, and technical jargon. Truffle Shuffle squinted at it as if his eyelids could squeeze sense out of numbers like juice from a grapefruit. Pipsqueak’s mane clung to his neck in sticky strings. He stank of sweated-out pomade. Chewing his bottom lip, he turned to the class secretary. “Well? Find anything?” “No,” Silver whispered. Lines upon lines upon lines of microscopic text tangled together in a mass of black and white. She couldn’t find a single context clue to get bearings. Numbers—dates, money, populations, taxes, and Luna knew what else—blurred until her head hurt. “I mean, maybe… maybe I could, but I don’t understand any of this.” At best, she recognized a word or two from Diamond Tiara’s pep talks. “I’m sorry, Pip. Maybe if we could’ve seen it before the meeting I could have gotten a dictionary and worked something out, but…” Silver rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. “That’s alright, Silver Spoon, I know you tried.” Pip looked to Councilpony Twist. “How ‘bout you?” Twist pushed her glasses up and wrinkled her muzzle. “I think I kiiiiiinda get it?” She tapped the rightmost column on the left page. “If we thretch a little bit, the thchool budget’th a little under forty thouthand?” Frowning, she checked the work in her head. “Thirty foalth attending, twelve hundred for each… yup, forty. Right?” Truffle Shuffle nodded with a “close enough” gesture. Mrs. Spoiled Rich watched from her bench. “You wanted to see the Ponyville Schoolhouse Budget; there it is in black and white.” She shrugged. “If you can find room for new playground equipment in there, be my guest.” The president lifted the birch. “Excuse me, but there wouldn’t be a simpler version of this for us to read, would there?” Tall Order shook his head. “I’m afraid not, son.” He didn’t speak unkindly, but a dash of patronization peppered his voice. “It’s been written specifically for the school board and town legislation. Nopony quite expected children to be reading this material, you understand.” Truffle slid his notepad over: “Children, nothing. I don’t think most adults understand this stuff.” Silver agreed. Even if they’d gotten the budget book early, nothing would have come of it. Not without a prerequisite in legalese or number jargon. “I don’t see a reason why we couldn’t write a simplified version of the budget book.” Miss Cheerilee examined her own copy, though she didn’t seem especially encouraged with the contents. “If I put one together tonight, we could reconvene on the issue?” Pencil Pusher sighed. “Cheerilee, we don’t need to schedule a new meeting out of rotation just for a couple of swings we already know we can’t afford.” He tapped his watch to check if it worked properly. “Honestly, I don’t know why this is even a discussion.” Pip reviewed Truffle’s notes and lifted the birch to speak. “But don’t we ‘ave over thirty thousand in the budget as is? Couldn’t that at least buy a new slide and swing set? Maybe some new balls?” “New balls, maybe.” Tall Order pushed his spectacles higher on his face. “But I’m afraid your calculations are a little off, son. Thirty-eight thousand was the original budget at the start of the schoolyear, but we’re now approaching the mid-point. In a good year, at least third of the budget’s gone by now.” His shoulders sagged. “Moneywise, it has not been a good year. The Tirek incident also meant repairs to the roof, the siding, the fences…” “Exactly,” said Mrs. Rich. “Not to mention the cost of the usual necessities: updated textbooks, salaries, groundskeeping, art materials, school supplies for foals who can’t afford their own, transportation fees for field trips, and a debt we still need to pay off.” She shrugged off the council’s visible despair. “You asked a grown-up question and got a grown-up answer. That, Mister President, is the simplified budget. Take it or leave it.” Something tapped Silver under the desk. Watching from the corner of his eye, Truffle pressed a note in the frog of her hoof. One word unfolded in Silver Spoon’s lap: “FILIBUSTER.” “What?” Silver pressed both hooves to her chest. “But—you don’t mean me?” Twist and Truffle Shuffle nodded grimly. “Pip’s the president, why can’t he do it?” As one, the secretary and vice president turned towards Pipsqueak. The poor colt trembled so hard Silver thought she heard bones rattling. “Point taken, but what’s a filibuster supposed to do? Let us die slower?” Truffle snorted in frustration and flipped the note over. “We need outside help. Get Crusaders. NOW.” The note slid across Silver’s desk to Pip’s. Pipsqueak blinked at him, more than a little lost, but he settled himself and gave a wobbly nod. Truffle nodded back sharp. What on Celestia’s yellow sun can the Crusaders do to save the playground proposal? Give moral support? Rally the foals outside? Burn down the school? Silver Spoon stared at the twenty pages of bureaucratic red tape on her desk. Whatever it is, it’ll be big. Normally, Silver fine-toothed these issues with diplomacy and tact, but she couldn’t get traction in this jungle of policy and numbers. Jungles needed a machete. And we need extra time to fetch one. “I’m on it,” she whispered. “Go, Pip.” “Right!” He hit the ground running. Pencil Pusher raised his eyebrows—the most engaged he’d been all day—at the fleeing president. “Seems we’re ending our meeting early.” “He’th taking a quick bathroom break,” Twist explained. “He’ll be back in no time if we wait a little bit.” “No need for that, I think.” Spoiled Rich eyed the meeting’s minutes. "We’ve covered all points of the matter, so if nopony has anything further to add—” Silver Spoon raised the white birch. “Ah. The school board recognizes Class Secretary Sterling Silver Spoon.” Mrs. Rich turned to her, the portrait of glacial professionalism. Danger lurked beneath that stare, immeasurable and impassable. “You may proceed.” A sweaty coat itched under Silver’s pearls. “Um.” Miss Cheerilee smiled at her. “Did you have another idea for the budget problem, perhaps?” Bless that mare. “Yes, ma’am, we did.” Breathe and plow through it. Buy time. Don’t change the world, just buy time. “The student council discussed this issue at length earlier today, and we believe that we may have arrived at a solution. Due to current and unforeseen circumstances, as the pony next in rank, I will be speaking on the council’s behalf.” Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of Tall Order leaning forward on the bench. Bigger words always got adults’ attention, and more importantly, stretched minutes. “Our vice president, you see, is currently recovering from a tonsil removal and cannot speak for any substantial length of time, and our standing president has taken a… temporary leave. Under normal circumstances, it would be the duty of the student treasurer to cover issues of bits and budgets.” Silver Spoon met Spoiled Rich’s gaze head on. “However, she has declined to attend.” The head of the school board flicked an ear. “Has she?” “I don’t see her here, ma’am.” Silver blinked first. “Do you?” Spoiled Rich slightly narrowed her eyes, watching Silver Spoon the way one would watch a viper in a crib. Father held the same expression when he spoke of Manehattan’s crime rings and the importance of not talking to strangers. A line had been crossed. Maybe several lines. Yet, Mrs. Rich had never looked more relaxed. Not happy, but wholly unsurprised. She’d expected this. No fixing it now. Silver could only push forward. “The Student Council of Ponyville Schoolhouse, District Four-Seven-Four-Two-Eight proposes another fundraiser to...” She pawed through her mental thesaurus. “…to support expenditures for new playground equipment.” She turned to her fellow council ponies, hoping she’d used “expenditures” the right way. “If we use the—five hundred?” Twist nodded. “Five hundred and thixty-five altogether.” “If we combine the five hundred sixty-five bits from last year’s fundraisers with the, um, proceeds from a new fundraiser, we, the students, could provide the bits to help pay for replacement equipment.” Silver grinned to drive the point home. “After all, it’s our playground; who better to fund it than us?” The members of the school board looked at each other, tugging at their collars and clearing their throats. “I’m not saying it would be easy, of course,” Silver quickly added, “and maybe we’d need two or three events to pull it off, but we could do it. We did it for the window repairs, after all.” “No doubt you could, Madam Secretary,” said Mrs. Rich. “You were the one who championed the bake sale last year. To great success, as I recall.” Her face stayed placid, and Silver swore the temperature dropped two degrees. “Even more successful than The Foal Free Press that year, in fact.” The tip of Cheerilee’s tail tapped against the floor. Her eyes wandered between the class secretary and the head of the school board. She frowned. Tall Order cleared his throat. “Young lady, I know you have good intentions—we all want to help this schoolhouse, believe me—but you really have to understand.” He unfolded his hooves with a sigh. “Student councils simply aren’t responsible for these sorts of projects. Dances and field trips, sure, but… Do you realize how many bits it takes to order and install a brand new playground?” “No, sir.” Silver tapped her forehooves together. “Not exactly.” Tall Order wrote down two numbers. He passed it to Cheerilee, who delivered it to the student council. “An estimate range,” he gently told them. “Rounded down.” The council looked at it. Truffle Shuffle’s ears went completely flat. “That,” Twist whispered, “ith a lot more than five hundred.” Silver put a hoof to her mouth and nodded. “I’m sorry, children, but with the current budget, it’s not feasible to—” “Tall Order, don’t be so discouraging. If the student council really wants to try and raise the money, I think we should let them.” Mrs. Rich’s smile bordered on pleasant. “It would be a good learning experience.” The five digit numbers turned Silver’s stomach. “We couldn’t.” Even if they held fundraisers every month and pulled in five hundred every time, it would take six years to meet their goal. They’d all graduate before anypony saw a new slide. Best case scenario, they could get the equipment piece by piece, but Pip promised a whole playground, not just one teeter-totter. That would mean everypony shared one thing, and under constant strain, that thing would wear out within the semester. Silver Spoon didn’t even want to consider the fights over who got to play on what in their small amount of recess time. It could be worse than getting nothing at all. Either way, their playground plan nosedived into a volcano. True to Diamond’s word, the president’s check had bounced into the stratosphere. Silver’s own words echoed with a bitter aftertaste: This kind of thing is way over any foal’s head. At least, any foal who didn’t already know how to budget big numbers, spoke fluent business jargon, and studied under Tall Order all summer. The branch strained in Silver’s grip. “We can’t raise that kind of money by ourselves—nopony can!” Young ladies didn’t raise their voices to their elders, especially not when one’s success entirely depended on said elders. But Spoiled Rich wouldn’t and couldn’t be convinced, no matter how politely Silver spoke. “This is impossible, and you know it! I-I mean, we—” Despairing, she spread her hooves to her fellow council ponies. “We’re eleven, for Celestia’s sake! I don’t understand, Mrs. Rich. Why did you let us try when you knew we couldn’t do it?” She sniffed back tears of frustration. “Why are you doing this to us?” Spoiled Rich rolled her eyes with a put-upon sigh. “Children. They think everything is always about them.” Cheerilee’s hooves dug into the desk and she pushed herself up with a glare to melt the Frozen North to puddles. “Let me remind you, Mrs. Rich, that this board meeting determines the fate of the school and the quality of education—including the emotional and physical education—these foals receive.” The water jug shook with the force of her hoof upon the table. “It has everything to do with them.” “True, but that doesn’t mean anything about this is, you know, personal.” Pencil Pusher folded his supplies into his attaché case. “Look, the budget is what it is. The emotional kid with the glasses has a point: this was a waste of everypony’s time.” He flicked his short tail and checked his watch again. “Don’t know why we let foals in a board meeting in the first place. You kids should be out playing or something.” “We might be if we had a playground,” Twist shot back. Truffle Shuffle swallowed a snicker. Mrs. Rich regarded them both with mild irritation. “If I remember right, the student pony president—who’s run out of his own meeting and still hasn’t returned—was the one who insisted upon approaching the school board with his playground idea. Furthermore, it was his class secretary who insisted on arguing a budget we already explained was unworkable. We didn’t do a thing to you. However.” She cast a venomous glance. “If Secretary Silver feels so strongly about a new playground, she is more than welcome to fund it.” Silver’s eyes fell to the floor. “In that case, I don’t know what else can be done. I think it’s time to call it, don’t you?” Mrs. Rich shrugged. “All those in favor of the new Ponyville Schoolhouse playground equipment?” One single, firm “Aye” from Miss Cheerilee. She offered the council a soft, consoling smile. “All opposed?” A round of neighs from Tall Order, Pencil Pusher, and Mrs. Spoiled Rich. The meeting adjourned. Sometime within the past two hours, the crowd of supportive students had all but evaporated. Perhaps asking everypony to sit through a bunch of dull legislation before anypony breathed the word “playground” had been asking too much. Looking over the ponies who had remained—Snips, Snails, Button Mash, and a few low-tier newbies with nowhere better to be—Silver Spoon didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. They swarmed the council ponies as they exited the schoolhouse. “So, um, uh…” Snails searched the crowd, waiting for somepony else to take the lead instead. Nopony did. “What happened?” Snips tried to look over Silver’s withers. “Yeah and where’d Pip go?” “Here! I’m right here!” Pipsqueak stumbled onto school grounds, gasping for breath and sweat steaming off his spotted coat. “Am I back in time?” They had to hear it sometime. “I stretched as long as I could, Pip, but… no. The meeting ended a few seconds ago.” They could have stretched a few minutes longer if Silver hadn’t gotten so upset. Why hadn’t she done a regular filibuster and talked about the inferiority of teabags over tea leaves for an hour? “We didn’t get it.” A collective groan sagged through the small crowd. “I’m sorry, Pip. Sorry, everypony.” “Oh. Well, you all did your best, I’ll bet.” Pip rubbed the back of his neck with another little sigh. “But we knew it’d be a long shot; you lot told me so.” He perked up a little. “Good try anyway, yeah?” About as good as a bunch of eleven-year-olds without any real power could do. Silver pursed her lips. Might as well thank a bug for trying to lift a castle. The colt meant well, she supposed. “Thanks. What happened with the Crusaders?” Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. The president suddenly took keen interest in the topography of the clouds. “Yeeeaaaaaaaahhhhh, about that…” Twist tilted her head. “Couldn’t you find ‘em at their clubhouth?” “No, they were there.” The hoofbeats got louder. “But they weren’t exactly alone.” Diamond Tiara came plowing into the schoolyard like somepony lit her tail on fire. Sheens of sweat glistened on her flanks, but she didn’t look half the mess Pip did. Her hocks trembled beneath her; had she run all the way from Sweet Apple Acres? She glanced at Silver Spoon, then the schoolhouse, Pip, and back at Silver again. “Everypony, I have an announcement.” Silver wheeled on Pip with clenched teeth. “What is she doing here?” Truthfully, she didn’t think Diamond knew the answer to that either. For somepony who’d stormed in with an announcement, the filly ran awfully low on words. “It’s not my fault!” Pipsqueak slid between Silver Spoon and Cheerilee, watching Diamond as if she’d bite him any moment. “She overheard the budget problem and ran on ahead of the Crusaders. I only even beat her here myself ‘cause I hitched a ride from Rumble’s brother.” He shot Silver a defensive frown. “How’s I supposed to know she’d be at the clubhouse?” Fair enough; even at the peak of Diamond’s anti-Crusader stints, she never stepped on their turf. The one time she did, it had been Babs Seed’s idea. “I guess it’s not really your fault, Pip.” Silver sighed and side-eyed Diamond hovering in the background. “You’re here to finish us off, I guess?” Diamond lashed her tail close and didn’t answer. “You might as well go ahead. Your mother already did most of the work for you, Madame President.” The whole thing tied up in a neat little package. It wouldn’t surprise Silver Spoon in the least if the two of them planned the school board fiasco from the start. “Easy win, like she said.” Diamond Tiara’s ears shot up twitching. “What?” Staring Silver in the face, she drew herself up and took a small step forward. For a quiet moment, she scanned the schoolyard, the paltry number of classmates, the crestfallen student council, and an oddly un-perky Miss Cheerilee. Her eyes narrowed and she twitched her ears again. “What do you mean ‘did most of the work for—” “DIAMOND TIARA!” Apple Bloom’s cry rocked the schoolyard. She caught up on Diamond’s shoulder, with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle right behind. “Think hard about the choice you’re makin’ right now!” The volume was hardly necessary, but it caught the attention of everypony on school grounds who hadn’t already been listening. Truffle poked his head out of a window, sipping the tea from this morning. “We know you’re better than this, Diamond Tiara,” said Scootaloo. “You can be a better pony.” Silver tensed. Something’s weird here. She might have expected this busybodying from Sweetie Belle, maybe even Apple Bloom, but since when did Scootaloo give half a horse apple about Diamond Tiara? “What in Equestria happened at that clubhouse?” Twist scratched her head. “No idea. Lookit Apple Bloom, though. She lookth real worried.” “Not surprised. They managed Pip’s campaign, remember?” That explained it. They had the biggest stakes in the playground plan aside from the council ponies. Silver couldn’t blame them for trying to stop Diamond from kicking over the board meeting’s rubble, but it was still only rubble. “I don’t think there’s much they can do at this point, th—” “Diamond Tiara.” Two words from Spoiled Rich split the crowd in half. The scent of groundings and lectures drifted through the air. The student council shrank against Cheerilee’s legs, but Mrs. Rich hardly noticed them. “I just happened to be here for the school board meeting, and this is what I see when we adjourn?” She tipped her nose in the air and passed the Crusaders with the barest minimum of her attention. The three fillies blinked back at her, perplexed. “My daughter associating with confused, insignificant, lowlifes?” A thoughtful frown crossed Diamond Tiara’s face. Her eyes fixed upon Spoiled Rich before wandering to the student council, the Cutie Mark Crusaders, back to Spoiled, and then down, down to Diamond’s hooves. They stayed at her hooves. Mrs. Rich led the way to the fence, with Diamond trailing several steps behind. “Socializing with their kind is not how you move up in Equestria.” At “their kind,” all three Crusaders turned to look at their bare flanks. Their confusion vanished. Sweetie Belle’s head snapped around as if she’d been struck and Scootaloo’s stink eye could sour a dairy farm. Apple Bloom stared hard at Diamond Tiara, who still hadn’t stopped looking at her hooves. Mrs. Rich ignored all three of them and turned toward the road. “Come, Diamond Tiara.” The frown crystallized. Diamond Tiara raised her head with all the regality of an eight-time national pageant champion. An old, familiar flame flickered in her eyes. Not a wildfire, but a controlled burn. “No, Mother.” Silver Spoon raised her eyebrows. “Whoa.” “I know, right?” Pipsqueak balanced on his hind legs to see better. “I can’t imagine talking to a grownup that way.” “Especially not in public,” Silver agreed. Her ears twitched at Spoiled’s indignant shock and Diamond’s smooth dovetail into calling out her own elitism. No pause, no hesitation. No hurricane blusters. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.” The power didn't lie in Diamond’s words, but in how she said them. This was not the frothing, helpless rage of a filly who’d lost a competition. It didn’t quite sound like rebellion, either. Silver couldn’t name the steadied force rooting Diamond Tiara’s hooves to the ground, but she knew it won debates. “I finally realized I wanted something you don’t have.” For a split second, Diamond and Silver locked eyes. “Friends.” Silver Spoon’s eyebrows lifted higher. She smiled. A crack ripped through Mrs. Rich’s armor. The arctic poker face crashed into what could have been doubt or confusion or hurt—who could honestly tell with her?—before she regrouped. “That’s enough, Diamond Tiara.” Too little, too late. The damage had been done, and everypony had seen. “Get away from those blank flanks.” Pipsqueak blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know grownups used that word.” After an hour of getting roasted over the school board’s coals, Silver couldn’t help but smile wider. A young lady deserved her moments of catharsis, after all. “They usually don’t, Pip.” Anypony who resorted to baseline insults had already lost. “These are the Cutie Mark Crusaders.” Diamond Tiara turned to Apple Bloom and her friends with a smile. A smile sweeter, softer, and more genuine than anything Silver had seen from Diamond in weeks. Months, even. “And they are my friends.” Silver Spoon’s grin collapsed. “What.” Friends? Since when, five minutes ago? “She can’t be serious…” “Why not?” asked Twist. “They’re really nice and helpful. Maybe they helped her out the way they helped Pip?” “It—” Silver reined her volume and flattened her ears. “It’s different, Twist.” “How?” “It just is.” “They’re working harder to get their cutie marks than anypony I’ve ever seen!” Diamond marched up to her stepmother in her trademark showmare’s trot. “And they will get them exactly when they discover their true talent, which I guarantee will be amazing!” The meaningful look between (apparently) former rivals turned Silver’s stomach. They’ve been friends for what, an hour, and suddenly they get a passionate defense? In front of the whole school? Memories of Mrs. Rich’s glacial stare burned under Silver’s coat. And I never even got an apology! Not even an attempt! Some stupid, sensible part of her argued that she’d never given Diamond the chance. Silver ignored it because that wasn’t even the point and this whole day was dumb and stupid anyway. Watching the student council’s main roadblock crumble should have brought some satisfaction. If the sight of a humbled Spoiled Rich slinking into the sunset didn’t bring Silver’s smile back, then Diamond’s motion to donate funds for playground equipment should have. The Ponyville Schoolhouse Student Council got to keep their positions and President Pipsqueak successfully instated his first order of business. They’d won. Winners were supposed to smile. So that’s what Silver Spoon did. Proper young ladies did not let personal resentments impede everypony else’s good day. Never one to neglect an audience, Diamond Tiara turned and approached the student council. “You were worried for a second, weren’t you?” She brushed off Pip’s instinctive flinch with flash of dazzling teeth and a salesmare’s wink. “Well, I think it’s all gonna work out just fine, Mister President.” Pip blinked. He blinked couple more times at his fellow council ponies. “Well!” A startled laugh popped under the word. “That’s one way to do it, I guess!” “Goodness, I’ll say.” Miss Cheerilee smiled back at Truffle, who stared gobsmacked in the window. “I suppose we got our class treasurer after all!” Which meant avoiding Diamond Tiara would be next to impossible. “Yeah, we really lucked out.” Equestrians, by nature, favored forgiveness, but rolling up with five figures to spare didn’t hurt, either. Neither did a talent for getting other ponies to follow one’s lead. In two minutes everypony forgot the past five months ever happened. Diamond included. “Okay, so I hope nopony minds, but I already have a couple ideas for a new playground. I brought sketches!” Everypony circled around the treasurer apparent while she whipped out her notebook and a clutter of messy notes from last Tuesday’s impromptu planning session. “I’m thinking, new jungle gym?” “Say, is that a spy tower up there?” Snails breathed over Silver’s head, mussing her hair. “Oooh and check out those bridges connecting all the stuff!” “I really like it, but…” Twist pushed her glasses higher on her muzzle, squinting. “Can we really afford all of thith? I know you’re rich and all, but…” Diamond shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. We can work out the details later; these are only a few ideas me and Silver Spoon were spitballing a few…” Her eyes trailed up to meet Silver’s. “Uh… a few days ago.” Silver looked away and pulled out of the circle. “I’m… going to go get Truffle Shuffle. The vice president should be here for this. Excuse me.” She turned for the stairs at a canter. “I’ll be right back, you guys.” Diamond never could leave well enough alone, could she? “Wait—hold on a second, Silver Spoon.” Silver paused on the top stair. She blinked slowly and waited. “Um. Silver, I just wanted to say—like, I mean, I wanted to tell you that you were right, before. About a lot of stuff. And I’m… I’m sorry I said that you weren’t allowed to speak.” She crept up the stairs until she stood just below eye level. Diamond gently smiled up at her, droopy-eared, remorseful, and sincere. “I’m really sorry.” Silver Spoon ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth. The tip of her tail twitched. She didn’t smile back. “I—” Diamond’s façade shattered. “Silvie I can’t stand this, talk to me! If you hate me forever, that’s fine, but for Celestia’s sake, just tell me so.” She shrank back with large eyes. “Please don’t hate me?” “I don’t.” Silver adjusted her glasses with a sigh. “Look, I’m happy you showed up, Diamond Tiara. I really am. We needed a class treasurer, and even if the budget could handle a new playground, I’m not so sure Pip could. You messed up—and messed up super hard—but you also cleaned up your mess. So, good work with that.” “Oh.” Whatever response Diamond had expected, this hadn’t been it. “Thank you.” Silver smiled at her. “You’re welcome. And I acknowledge your apology, Diamond Tiara.” They hadn’t spoken loud enough to be overheard, but everypony in a five yard radius felt the pressure pulsing from their conversation. The best course of action would be to drop the whole thing, but if Silver did that, it would follow her all the way home and into bed for the next two months. “I do not accept.”