//------------------------------//
// Chapter 11: Democracy Inaction 
// Story: Dragonfall 
// by DannyJ 
//------------------------------//

>Send Redwood off to the East Side Orphanage as a peace offering.

"You know, I just don't get impregnation fetishists," I say, my hoofsteps echoing off the stone floors of the fortress as we walk to the lieutenants' meeting.

"Um... what?" says a small voice beside me.

"Now, far be it from somepony who gets as much action as me to read porn, but I see these things being sold everywhere, these penny dreadfuls revolving entirely around the act of impregnating a mare. Sometimes it's a stallion doing it. Sometimes a male of another species using conception magic. Sometimes it's another mare with a dick, and that's a whole other topic of discussion. But I've read a few of these now – y'know, out of morbid curiosity – and the whole impregnation thing just weirds me out."

"Uh... Mister?"

"Like, okay, a pregnancy fetish is one thing. That's just attraction to a specific body type. Mostly. And at their core, I suppose these stories are just about fairly vanilla sex with a mare in heat, which is perfectly normal. Hell, I've seen shitloads of weirder stuff. Sometimes literal shitloads. Yet another whole different topic. But I still don't get the obsession with the impregnation part. It mostly just seems to boil down to the mare describing her internal biological processes in unnecessary detail. And not like in a 'fill me with your cum' way, either. Like in a 'I can feel your sperm fertilising my eggs!' way. It's so weirdly stilted and clinical, as if all these stories were written by the same elderly biology professor."

"...Sir?"

"And don't get me started on all the long-term implications. So many of these books have the couple decide on having a foal as a spur of the moment thing, but it'd never be a spur of the moment thing! That's a huge decision that totally changes your life! No matter how heat-addled her brain is, no mare wants to be a single mother, so there's no way she'd ask some stranger to knock her up. And if the story is about an established couple, then surely this is something they'd want to have a serious discussion about? And none of this is even mentioning the fact that foals are horrible, and mostly just prevent you from having sex. Seriously, I just don't get the appeal."

"Agony."

"Now, autoerotic asphyxiation? There's a quality fetish."

"Dad!"

"What, girl?" I snap at my nine-year-old daughter.

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

The two of us come to a stop in the middle of the long, empty stone corridor. I open my mouth to shout at her, and then close it again when I realise I have nothing to say. I furrow my brow, run a hoof along my chin, tap my other hoof on the stone floor, and finally just give up and shrug.

"...I don't know," I admit. "But at least it got you to stop crying."

I resume my brisk trot, Redwood falling into line behind me.

"Um... what was that you said about mares with... colt thingies?" Her face reddens, and I find myself wondering how I could ever have sired a foal who blushes at the mention of genitals. "How does that even work?"

"I think the concept should be pretty self-explanatory. Unicorn magic can do some weird stuff."

She persists, her tone growing obstinate. "Okay, but... why would anypony do that?"

"...For sexual purposes?" I say, annoyed that I have to point out the obvious. "You do know what sex is, right? You've had around seventy partners; your mother or fake father must have given you the talk."

"What talk?" Redwood asks.

"...Evidently not," I grumble, running a hoof down my face. "All this time I've been ranting, and you don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"I know some of it!" Redwood says defensively. "I-I know what... parts are, and I know... uh..."

"What? Go on. Lecture me, child."

Redwood puffs her cheeks up and spreads her wings. "I know enough to know that what you're talking about is weird and gross and... and not the sort of stuff that adults talk about with kids!"

"You're right! It's not! I'm clearly terrible father material, aren't I? Nice to see that we're on the same page about that." I stop again and lean down, nose-to-nose with my bastard. "So what's it say about your mother that she left you with me? In Dragonfall? Either she's worse than I am, or she wants to get rid of you, which, frankly, is the most that she and I ever had in common!"

I turn away, satisfied, and take another step down the hall. A sniffle from behind makes me look back over my shoulder. She isn't bawling like before, but her eyes are still welling up. Through her tears, she gives me a transparently hateful look. Clearly, she's seconds away from breaking into heaving, foalish sobs once more.

I sigh. "Are you seriously going to start this again?" 

She does. Louder than before. In the open, in the city, it wasn't so bad, but in the enclosed stone corridor, it's a thousand times worse. Celestia, that echo...

"Alright, that's... that's enough of that now," I say, fluttering closer while also covering both ears with my hooves. "Come on, this isn't going to get you anywhere. You can cry and cry all you like, but you're still stuck in Dragonfall with me, and there's nothing either of us can do about that."

If anything, her cries grow louder. My teeth start to rattle in my skull.

Since talking hasn't done the trick, I dart forward, and clamp her jaws shut with my hooves. Her cries are muffled, and her body still heaves from the force of her sobbing, but I can at least hear myself speak now.

"Listen to me," I hiss. "I understand that you're going through a lot right now. I know this must be a turbulent time in your life, and you're feeling a lot of conflicting emotions. Your whole world is being turned upside down, and you probably hate your mother because she's an overbearing bitch who won't stop offering to make you cookies, and embarrassing you, and calling you by the wrong name! But... But..."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath to collect myself. When I open them again, Redwood's sobs have slowed somewhat. She now seems more confused than sad.

"But..." I say more calmly, "I have problems of my own. A lot of problems. And right now, I really can't afford to care about any of your issues. You are a complicating factor that I do not need." 

Her cries have died down a bit, though her breathing is still sharp and staggered. I release my grip on her jaws; thankfully, she doesn't cry again.

"...You're a terrible dad," she whimpers.

"Yes. We have established that." I roll my eyes. "Look, I get that yours is the short end of the stick here, what with having Cash and I for parents, but it is what it is. I can't put your safety and wellbeing first because I've got bigger problems, and neither can she, because she's a bitch. So, as soon I'm done at this meeting, I'm taking you over to the East Side Orphanage and leaving you there. I can't guarantee that the other orphans won't stab you, but at least there you probably won't be molested."

Redwood's pupils shrink. 

"Oh, good. You know what that word means, at least." I back away and let her free. "Now, come on. We're late enough as it is."

"...Hate this place," Redwood mumbles.

"And now we have something in common."

Hard Cash didn't seem to have any awareness about what Dragonfall is like, otherwise I doubt even she would have brought her daughter here. Redwood at least seems to be getting the picture. Still, I doubt she fully realises just how bad her situation really is. She'll learn, though. Oh, will she ever learn...





"Don't start without me, you bastards!"

I push past the Sunheart guards posted outside the meeting room and kick down the door, storming inside. I had expected to find the lieutenants' meeting already underway, but instead I just find them all sitting on plush velvet cushions around a long wooden table, while a young mare serves beer in several mugs which look like pewter, but are more likely zinc given our budget. They all look my way as I enter, except for Free Candy, who instead fixes his eyes on Redwood slinking in behind me. None of them seem particularly surprised to see me.

There are eight of them around the table – the seven other lieutenants plus one boring pony whose name I don't remember. A teenaged earth colt stands behind the boring one, totalling twelve of us in the room including the serving mare.

"Don't worry, Ags, you ain't missed nothing," says Lieutenant Killjoy, giving me a wry smile. "Dude here was just about to say something. Come on, I saved you a seat."

I smile back and take the place beside her, while the serving mare pours me a beer.

Killjoy, despite the name, is the only other lieutenant who's actually fun to be around, and thus the only other lieutenant that I actually like. To this day, she's the only mare I've ever met who could drink me under the table. She's a cool and easygoing conversationalist, and reliable in combat. She doesn't like the responsibility of her position, but she deals with it and takes care of her troops as best she can, which I can respect. And she's easy on the eyes, too, her understated off-white coat drawing attention to her amber eyes and fiery mane, orange with a single streak of yellow. Easily an eight out of ten if she brushed her teeth more often.

"Glad you're not dead, by the way," she says, leaning over to whisper into my ear.

"Thanks. I'm glad you're not dead, too."

"Hey, who's the filly?" Killjoy asks, nodding in Redwood's direction.

"Ahem."

I look to the end of the long table, where the boring stallion stands. Not Peacemaker. The other boring stallion. Though, it's easy to confuse the two, since they're both grey unicorns.

"I'll tell you later," I mutter.

"If you're all ready?" says Boring Pony. "I have an announcement to make."

I raise my hoof, making him sigh.

"Yes, Lieutenant Agony?"

"Not to be rude, but who the hell are you?"

Boring Pony slowly blinks, holding a steadfastly neutral expression.

"What a perfect segue into my speech," he says, looking around to the rest of the table. "Hello, everyone. My name's Tax Day. You know me. I'm the financial guy. I've sat in these meetings for thirty years now, and apparently some of you still don't know my name. But that's okay! It doesn't matter anymore, because I am announcing my retirement."

There's silence at the table.

"...Is that it?" I ask.

"No," Boring Pony says, mouth twisting into a frown as he turns to me. "That is not it, Agony, you enormous tool. I've put up with you people for thirty damned years, and before I'm out of here, I am going to have my say."

"Seriously, does anyone know who this guy is?" I ask the table.

"I've been maintaining this company's finances since Captain Coldheart's day," he continues, ignoring me. "And since that time, I have watched the steady degradation of the Sunhearts from a band of proud warriors to... well, to what we are today. To the late Captain Blackheart, I want to say, you could've stopped this if only you'd had a spine, but I guess that's expecting too much of someone who's more worm than pony."

Lieutenant Ulysses, a teal-blue earth stallion with a golden mane, stands up and slams his hooves on the table.

"How dare you?!" he demands. "Blackheart was—"

"And speaking of worms, you, Ulysses, are a tapeworm. At least, I assume you must be, from how far you crawled up Captain Blackheart's ass, and how much your obvious toadying seemed to suck the life out of him. Nobody likes you. Do you know that? Nobody. Because nobody likes a teacher's pet. You should have been bullied more in school. And your name is dumb."

A round of snickering passes the table as Lieutenant Ulysses Throatfuck III, heir to the ancient and noble House of Throatfuck, sinks back into his seat with a look of burning shame. I even laugh a little myself, but Boring Pony isn't done.

"Hoofler," he says, turning the spotlight on the navy-green stallion next. "Never in all my years have I met a pony so morally repugnant, and yet so pitiable. Your many stupid and often disturbing ideas about species and race would be dangerous if it weren't for the fact that they will never, ever catch on because of how pathetic you are. You're a whiny little bitch with an emo haircut, who literally wrote a book called My Struggle and stuck a picture of yourself pouting on the cover. You never shut up about being vegan, and you kill people for a living because you couldn't hack it as an artist. For Celestia's sake, you're a pony supremacist who talks in a thick south Griffonian accent, and you seemingly see no irony in this. You're a joke, Hoofler."

Hoofler blinks, stunned into silence by his tirade.

Boring Pony turns to the other side of the table. "Bonepick, Free Candy."

He gestures to the two indicated lieutenants, both sitting side by side. One is a grey and black griffon, more osprey than eagle, and the other is a pink stallion with a poofy, candy cane mane of red and white stripes. The latter snaps his head around suddenly when his name is called. I frown when I realise that he had been staring in Redwood's direction.

"You two are just something else," Boring Pony says. "Whenever I walk into a room, and either of you are there, I feel a coldness in my soul. The fact that Blackheart let either of you, much less both of you rise to the rank of lieutenant in this company is completely baffling to me. You'd think eating people or being a sex offender would be a barrier to career advancement, but not in the Sunhearts, I guess! You two are the primary reason I lost faith in Blackheart's leadership, and I sincerely hope that whoever the next captain is, they have decency and good sense to have you both shot."

"Here, here!" says Peacemaker, raising his beer.

A rousing round of whoops and cheers, mugs clanking, and hooves banging on the table follows.

"Dynamite," says Boring Pony.

Lieutenant Dynamite, a white unicorn with a blond mane just like the many ponies who make up Hoofler's platoon, grins widely and waves his hoof.

"Ooh, yes! Do me! Do me!"

"Dynamite, I've got nothing. I have no opinion on you. You're just a bogstandard hyperactive sugar addict. You're annoying, don't get me wrong, but you're just not interesting enough for anypony to bother expending thought on you. Except maybe Free Candy, because even though you might look like a stallion, most days I could swear to Celestia that you must be a seven-year-old colt."

Myself and the other lieutenants laugh, Dynamite included. Boring Pony doesn't laugh, instead turning towards me and Killjoy next.

"Killjoy, I've been expecting you to hang yourself for years now, and the fact that you still haven't done it yet amazes me, given what an utter basket case you are. You try to hide it, but you're probably one of the most messed up ponies I know, and considering that I know Lieutenant Agony, that's saying something. For your own sake, either see a therapist and fix your shit, or get it over with already, because the anticipation is killing me."

There are no jeers and laughter after that one. Killjoy looks quite taken aback by the stallion's words. Myself, I just glare at him.

"Lieutenant Agony," he finally says, through gritted teeth. "I knew a filly in my youth, who stayed at the local hospital in my hometown for all the time that I lived there. She was a blind-deaf burn victim with fragile bones that constantly broke, and an inability to digest solid foods. Healing magic gave her seizures, and she was somehow allergic to literally all medicine, but painkillers most especially. All she did, all day every day, was repeatedly chant 'please kill me,' and whenever they monitored her dreams, she always had the same persistent recurring nightmare about being eaten alive by demons. I don't even know where those came from. I bring her up because I bet she didn't pity herself as much as you do."

The table stomps in applause again while I seethe.

"You are, without a doubt, the most self-centred, callous, egotistical, cruel, hateful, and all-around horrible pony I know. It's a shame that vampires are extinct, because you would have made a fantastic one. You contribute nothing to the world but pain, misery, and probably several hundred bastard children, and the sooner you die of a horrible wasting illness that leaves you shitting blood and coughing up your own lungs, the better. You utterly deserve to be in Dragonfall, you miserable son of a bitch. Also, I have no idea why everyone thinks you're such a good lay; your ass is so loose I could build a railway through it."

I was about to make a snappy comeback after he finished, but that last jab throws me completely off-balance, and leaves me staring dumbly at the grey stallion while the rest of the table minus Killjoy and Hoofler laughs at my expense. He snorts and turns away from me.

"Peacemaker."

Peacemaker sits up and meets the stallion's gaze.

"...You're alright, I guess," Boring Pony says lamely.

Peacemaker only gives a curt nod of acknowledgement. I grumble and down my drink while Boring Pony clears his throat and beckons the colt behind him to come up to the table.

"All that said, I'm done here. I quit. I'm leaving, and I'm never coming back. As a final gesture of spite, I wanted to burn this whole company to the ground and make off with all the cash, but unfortunately, we're in the Equestrian Heartland, and out here they actually enforce their laws. I know, crazy, right? Celestia only knows how you people will survive in such conditions, but I at least can roll with the punches, and I figure that if I have to do things the legal way, I may as well be a professional about it. To that end, I took on an apprentice a few months ago, so my replacement is already trained. This here is Gold Coin. Say hello, Gold Coin."

The colt, a yellow earth pony with a pale white mane who can't be older than sixteen, steps forward.

"Umm... Hello?" he says, waving a hoof uncertainly.

"Hello," Free Candy says in a breathy voice, leaning over the table and leering at him.

Gold Coin takes a careful step backward.

"He's your finance guy from now on," Boring Pony continues, unperturbed. "Let him do his thing and don't abuse him, and maybe this shitty company won't go bankrupt. I hope you all treat him better than you did me, but I know better than to expect decency from you people by this point."

He abruptly turns around, takes a hat off a nearby stand, and places it atop his head.

"Gold Coin, I wish I could say it's been a pleasure, but it hasn't," he says, grasping the yellow colt's hoof and shaking it. "Don't feel too bad about that. It's not your fault; it's theirs. Anyway, good luck, and goodbye."

And with that, he skips out of the meeting room, slamming the door behind him as he goes. The other lieutenants, the new kid, Redwood, the serving mare, and myself all stare at the exit for a while, half of us in disbelief, and the other half just confused.

"...Who was that guy again?" I ask.





It doesn't take long after that strange diversion for the meeting to finally get on track. Once everyone is good and drunk, Peacemaker, as the only sober one, takes a stand and tries to call us to order, slamming his hoof on the table.

"Okay, everybody, we all know why we're here. It's been two days now since our beloved captain disappeared, and given that this is Dragonfall, I think it's safe to assume he's dead. First order of business is selecting a replacement from one of our number. I suggest we put it to a vote. Since there are eight of us, the new captain will need a clear majority in their favour, so we'll keep on voting until we have one. All that said, anypony who wants to run for the captaincy should make their case right now."

He sits back down on his cushion, and before I can speak, Ulysses rises.

"This is ridiculous!" he says. "Captain Blackheart made very clear before his demise that I was his favoured—"

"Boooooo!" I yell over him. "Boo this stallion!"

Killjoy joins me, the rest of the table following. Somepony (I'm not sure who) throws a rotten tomato at him, which splatters over his face and knocks him to the floor. While the table laughs and applauds, I stand up.

"Alright, listen," I say, trying not to sway too much from the alcohol. "Boring Pony was right. None of us here like Ulysses. I don't think any of us here liked Blackheart, either. Or each other, for that matter. But I think it's clear that our options are limited. Bonepick and Free Candy will never be elected for obvious reasons, Ulysses is a loser, and Dynamite, no offense, but you're a little too unstable to be captain."

Dynamite smiles and waves his hoof dismissively. "None taken!"

"With all that in mind, I think it's obvious who the next captain should be."

Hoofler suddenly guffaws, drawing all eyes to him.

"Ach, Agony, mein ballbruder, you flatter me so." He stands up. "I vas not expecting such a ready endorsement before even nominating myself, but ja, I vould be honoured to serve as ze Sunheart Company's fourth captain. As captain, I promise I vill exterminate ze degenerate filth, Free Candy und Bonepick, as vell as all zheir troops who engage in similar practices."

The two named lieutenants squawk in protest, literally in Bonepick's case, but are ignored. I notice Redwood grinning.

"Wha—" I splutter. "No, I meant me! I should be captain!"

Hoofler's eyes widen. He recoils from the sting of my betrayal, before straightening up and clearing his throat.

"...I... see."

I look around to the rest of the table, now watching me.

"Look, I promise I'll also have Bonepick and Free Candy killed," I say, drawing more cries of protest from both of them. "But consider my goals compared to Hoofler's. Last month, all of us met just like this, and voted on whether or not we would come to Dragonfall. The pro-Dragonfall side won by a single vote, and one of them died within a week of coming here. And let's examine just who else voted in favour of Dragonfall, shall we? Lieutenant Throatfuck, out of blind loyalty to our idiot captain. Bonepick, so that he could eat hobos. Free Candy, because he thought Dragonfall would be full of unattended orphans he could molest—"

"Actually, I regret my vote now," Free Candy mutters, hanging his head. "My platoon's casualty rate since our first encounter with the East Side Orphanage has been staggering."

"...And Hoofler, who literally just came here to kill minorities." I let the brief silence hang in the air, while Hoofler gives me a dirty look. "In short, why would you vote for Hoofler when he's partially to blame for all of this, along with Ulysses and the two degenerates? Elect me as your captain, and I will get us out of Dragonfall, one way or another. Elect Hoofler, and the nightmare of our own lives will only continue."

"Huh," says Dynamite, shrugging. "Sounds good to me. I vote Agony."

"Yup," Killjoy says with a grin. "Same here."

"Hmm." Peacemaker nods. "Very well."

"I personally would like to revisit the topic of our execution first," says Free Candy, meekly raising a hoof.

Everypony ignores him.

I smile. Including myself, I have four votes already. I've got this in the bag.

"Now hold the hell up," says Ulysses, finally dragging himself up from beneath the table, tomato still running down his face. "Why in Equestria should we ever vote for Agony? Are you all forgetting who he is? He probably killed Blackheart himself just to take over! He is an outspoken fascist! If we let him be captain, we'll probably never have a meaningful say in things again!

"A... vhat?" says Hoofler, squinting. "Faa... scist? Vhat is a fascist?"

"Fascism is a system of authoritarian nationalistic autocracy," Peacemaker explains. "Instead of having a democracy, the state is ruled by a dictator with total, unchecked power. Like if Princess Celestia didn't have to listen to Congress."

"Oh." Hoofler blinks. "Zat sounds... very efficient... You're full of interesting ideas today, Agony."

"I vote for Hoofler," says Ulysses.

"What! As if Hoofler wouldn't do the exact same thing!" I shout, before noticing some of the others giving me weird looks. "U-Um... I mean, I would never do something like that! And even if I was going to, which I'm not, I should still be the clear choice here."

Hoofler frowns at me. "Warum, Agony?"

"Yeah, why, Agony?" asks Ulysses. "Because comparing the two of you, I think you're far and away the worse choice."

"How? How can you possibly conclude that?"

"Okay, let's review. In the past few days, what have you done? The northwest barracks turn out to be shit, like they all are. Instead of settling in and making the best of it, like all the rest of us did, you ran off to berate the Captain in the middle of the night and accomplished nothing. Bad decision. When one of your sergeants was trapped in the mines and you had troops being stabbed, did you try to manage the situation and help? No, you ran off to the prison to berate the Captain again about the Mayor's murder, and probably got him killed too. Bad decision. Then when a monster appeared and brought down the wall, did you rally your troops, try to fight back, try to contact us? No. You went gallivanting off into the woods to have an adventure with bandits, and let us all think you'd died. Bad. Decision.

"Agony, you have been criminally irresponsible since arriving in this city, and I fully believe that most of the reasons why you hate Dragonfall so much are actually your own fault. In contrast, look at what Hoofler has done. He set up camps in the outlands, he captured bandits, and he imprisoned them. There's already been less raids on the local farms. Yeah, he's a horrible racist, but at least Hoofler does his job. At least Hoofler can paint. What can you do? What do you have to offer? Nothing but bitching, as far as I can see."

"Hoofler once sent half his troops all the way to Stalliongrad in the dead of winter, and they all froze to death! He is not a better or more responsible leader than me!"

"I disagree," Ulysses says coolly. "I think the weight of the evidence suggests that you, Agony, are definitely worse than Hoofler. In several respects. Most by a fairly significant margin."

"H-He... He's a racist!" I shout desperately, pointing an accusing hoof at Hoofler. "I'm sorry, Hoofler, but seriously, Ulysses, are you actually going to vote for a guy who believes race-mixing should be illegal?"

Hoofler glares at me. "Vhat, exactly, is wrong vith believing zat, Agony?"

"It just is, Hoofler! It's wrong! It's immoral! Harmony between races and species is one of the founding principles of Equestria! How can you be an Equestrian nationalist and a racist? The two don't go together, Hoofler! They don't make sense!"

"Oh, Agony arguing on moral grounds," says Ulysses, rolling his eyes. "That's rich."

"Maultiere," Hoofler says simply.

I stop, and tilt my head.

"What?" I ask.

"Mules, Agony," Hoofler clarifies. "If a pony und a donkey breed, ze result is a mule. Zat is vhat zat union produces. Vould you ever be okay vith siring a mule?"

I freeze. The rest of the table looks at me. I stand there, carefully considering his words, staring at the floor. The other lieutenants, Redwood, and even the serving mare and the new financial guy, lean closer in anticipation of my answer.

"...He's got me there," I mutter.

A round of groans pass the table.

"What?" cries Dynamite.

"Seriously, Ags?" says Killjoy.

"For Celestia's sake..." Peacemaker mutters, shaking his head.

"What? What?" I protest. "He's right! Mules are disgusting!"

"Would anypony like to retract their vote for Agony now?" Ulysses asks with an insufferably smug grin on his face. "I don't know about you guys, but given a choice between two racists, I'd rather vote for the one who's at least honest about it."

"I am sorely tempted," says Peacemaker, levelling a disapproving look my way. "But as many good points as you make, Ulysses, I still want out of Dragonfall, and a garden variety racist is still better than an outright pony supremacist."

Killjoy and Dynamite murmur their assent, making a vein pop on Ulysses's forehead.

"Fuck it," says Bonepick, clutching his mug in a talon and downing a gulp of beer. "I'm voting for Hoofler. You with me, Candy?"

"Sure," Free Candy says with a shrug, picking up his own mug and taking a drink as well.

Bonepick slams his down again and belches. "Here's the deal. Since both major candidates want us dead, we're forcing a tie. Anypony else changes their votes to break it, we'll change ours to unbreak it. Like it or not, we hold the power here. So whoever caters to us wins the election."

Me and Hoofler look to each other, and we share a smile.

"Go ahead," says Hoofler. "Vhatever you do, everypony else is united against you. Whoever vins vill get rid of you degenerates somehow."

"Okay, I promise you can both live," I say suddenly.

"WHAT?!" the entire room shouts in unison.

"But no more eating people or molesting foals," I say.

"Wait," says Free Candy, holding up a hoof. "Foals. So... griffon hatchlings, let's say? That's still free game?"

Bonepick glares at him. So do I.

"No molesting in general," I say.

Free Candy deflates slightly. "Okay... But so we're clear, we both get to live and stay employed, right?"

"...Yyyyyyyeah, sure."

"Cool," says Bonepick, smiling. "I vote for Agony."

"I also vote for Agony," says Free Candy.

"I don't vote for Agony," Peacemaker snaps. "I find Agony quite deplorable right now, and I'm changing to Hoofler."

"Yeah... same," says Dynamite. "Sorry, Agony, but I'm mostly in this to see those two dead, and you've really disappointed me on that front."

I frantically turn to Killjoy, grabbing her shoulders and staring into her eyes with a silent, pleading desperation. She sighs and rolls her eyes, patting my head.

"You owe me one, Ags."

Okay, we're back to a stalemate. I can work with that. I can still win this.

I turn back to the rest of the table, and take in the looks they're all giving me. Ulysses with his smug grin. Peacemaker with his disdainful sneer. Hoofler and Dynamite, both clearly disappointed in me. The new guy, Gold Coin, staring in open-mouthed shock. Even Redwood is giving me a pleading, worried look. The only ones who actually seem happy with this arrangement are the cannibal and the foal-fiddler.

Maybe there's a reason most ponies don't like me...

"Well," Peacemaker grumbles. "It's down to an even split again. I'm not changing my vote, and I don't think anypony else is either. Unless one of you wants to concede to the other, it looks like we're stuck here."

See, this is why democracy doesn't work.

WHAT NEXT?:
1. Gracefully concede the captaincy to Hoofler. What could possibly go wrong?
2. Maintain the stalemate for now, and work out a way to win later.
3. A vote for Killjoy is a vote against awful two-party systems.