//------------------------------// // Chapter 21 // Story: Down With the Pastryarchy // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Twilight, as was so often the case, was surrounded by an exceptional number of foals, as well as a few adults. The Princess of Friendship Story Hour was a mighty popular event and she had found a quiet corner for all to come and gather. Today’s story was a real favourite among foals and adults of all ages, Hitut the Unlikeable Elephant, a story about an elephant who had trouble making friends. This book had first come to Twilight’s attention when Sumac Apple had asked her to read it to him one day. She was soon to reach the part that was a crowd-favourite, the part with the crocodile witch doctor, one exceptionally gassy elephant who had trouble making friends, a cork, and a brave spider named Anansi who flew across the ocean while riding the previously mentioned cork. For some baffling reason, foals really, truly loved this part of the story. There were already giggles of anticipation and Twilight could not hold back her smile. The trick to reading to foals was to find a book they wanted to listen to. You couldn’t read them books about thaumaton agitation and expect to hold their attention for long. So, Twilight had exposed herself to quite a number of silly books during her many Princess of Friendship Story Hours. She had their rapt attention, their love, their worship and adoration. So many bright eyes looked up at her. Little ears were pricked and pivoted front-facing, to hear her every word. It was during these precious moments that Twilight most felt like both a librarian and a princess. She was living the dream. In this, there was both fulfillment and enrichment. “And so it came to pass, the brave, courageous little spider known as Anansi boarded the cork and prepared for his trans-oceanic flight…” With a sigh, Twilight Sparkle closed Hitut the Unlikeable Elephant and there was a soft, muted sound that was unique to well-loved books being shut. She looked at the crowd, trying to read their faces, trying to gage their moods, and noticed that there were a few more adults here than before. After a few moments, she determined that she still had their attention, and she saw an opportunity to teach. “Some friendships are more challenging than others. Like Hitut… he was an unlikeable elephant through no real fault of his own. But a zebra did what others had not, and tried to be Hitut’s friend. This led to a remarkable series of events that ultimately brought Anansi’s unique magic to Equestria. Anybody who has studied my friendship principles can see the similarities here.” “I study those in school,” a colt near the front row said. “Some of the best friendships you can have are the ones that challenge you. The ones that are not easy. Sometimes, you have to come out of your comfort zone, and when you do this, you have a chance to grow as a pony. We equines become stressed and have severe anxiety responses when we’re put in unfamiliar, uncomfortable situations. It is part of our nature as a species, but it is not impossible to overcome. There was a time in my life when I would have been absolutely paralysed trying to talk to a crowd of strangers… like all of you. But as the Princess of Friendship, I have no choice but to deal with crowds.” They were thinking. Most of them. Even some of the adults. She saw this as a good sign. “Do any of you have a tough friendship that takes some work? Raise those hooves!” Far fewer hooves raised than Twilight had hoped, had expected. Not many at all. But a few raised hooves were better than no raised hooves, so she forced her smile to stay right where it was. Scanning the crowd, she found an earth pony filly that seemed far more eager than the others, a foal just bursting to share. “You,” Twilight called out while pointing at the filly. “Me?” she (the filly) asked. “Yes, you.” Twilight nodded. “I made friends with the only pegasus in my school!” The filly’s natural exuberance left her voice rather shrill. “He’s a colt, and he’s kinda gross. But he’s smart! He’s an egghead, like me! In fact, he’s the only other egghead and we can be smart together, which is neat. He has a lizard cutie mark and he wants to study dragons and reptiles.” “Tell me,” Twilight said, taking in every spoken word of the filly, “What do you want to study? Do you know yet?” Put on the spot, the filly squirmed as many heads turned to look at her. “My cutie mark is three test tubes, which is kinda generic and science-y, which means I can be anything and do anything. It’s kinda gross and super yucky, but I want to study the reproductive sciences.” A long pause took place and the filly’s face darkened considerably. In a low, squeaky voice she added, “Sex science.” Twilight blinked. There would surely be some tense, uncomfortable study-buddy sessions later on, and she sympathised with the filly’s parents. Oh, that would get awkward soonish, if it wasn’t already. What a brave little filly, to share what she had shared. What a courageous friendship, becoming friends with the only pegasus in her school. And a colt, no less. Twilight had seen the great divide herself; little colts and little fillies tended to stay far, far apart, though there were exceptions. That is, until they hit a certain age and then keeping them apart became a challenge. The change was sudden, rather off-putting, and happened with no real warning. As a teacher, as an educator, she lived in fear of it. But as a scientist, she rather enjoyed observing it. “You”—she pointed at a colt and her sudden attention caused him a great deal of alarm—“tell us about your friendship challenge.” The colt’s ears pinned back, almost fearful, and his eyes darted around, meeting the gaze of the foals who now stared at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. His sheepish, fearful expression persisted for a time, but then Twilight saw courage creep into his expression. He sat on his haunches, rubbing his front hooves together, and after taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “My best friend is a burro.” The colt’s eyes opened in a cautious manner and he looked around. Much to Twilight’s dismay, she saw disgust in far too many faces—mostly adults. Perhaps her hopes best rested in the young. But the young learned these behaviours, these reactions from somewhere. Now, she saw anger in the little colt’s face, and this anger turned to outright defiance. Pride swelled in Twilight’s heart. “I don’t care what my mom says, or how she punishes me. Dad says I’m doing right.” “It can be very difficult to know that you are disappointing your mother.” Twilight’s sympathy caused her heart to ache for the colt. “Sometimes, doing right is very hard. Sometimes, it will get you punished. It is a difficult path to tread, because sometimes it is very difficult to know what is right. Especially when a parent, a teacher, or somepony that you trust a great deal tells you that what you are doing is wrong.” Everything was interrupted by a pegasus mare swooping in and coming to a hovering halt just in front of Twilight. “They’re shutting us down!” the mare hollered, almost breathless. “They’re shutting us down! Princess, save us!” “Who’s shutting what down?” Twilight demanded while she rose into a standing position. “The directors! Miss Blintz is gone! She left and took her organisation team with her! Now the directors are shutting us down! The bake-off has been cancelled! They’re gonna pull financing! Nopony will be paid!” Gasps could be heard in the crowd. “Do something!” Clutching her front hooves together, the pegasus mare cast a pleading stare upon Twilight. “Please, Princess, do something! It can’t end this way! This is the last one!” “I apologise for the unexpected interruption of our friendship lesson.” Twilight spread her wings and her horn ignited with a fierce glow. “If you will excuse me, I have to go and do some princessing. I really am sorry for cutting this short. Remember, kids… be good… and make friends!” Then, with a crackle and a flash of magenta light, Twilight departed for the command center. Twilight exploded into existence amongst a panicked herd of equines. There was outright hysteria going on—screaming, shouting, and sobbing. What little that Twilight could make out was about not getting paid. Her sudden appearance did nothing to help matters and many of the ponies fell to the ground in supplication. Papers swirled in the air like autumn leaves and folders were scattered all over the floor, their contents spilling out. “Where?” Twilight’s voice was a thunderclap that caused the structure around her to tremble, as if it too was also afraid of the angered alicorn. “Follow me,” a brave mare said and she gestured with her foreleg. After folding her wings against her sides, Twilight allowed herself to be led down a hall with opulent wainscotting and brass trim. Frightened, hysterical ponies scurried out of her way and a clear path opened up as if by magic. Panicked ponies prostrated, pleaing prone. She didn’t have time to comfort them, to explain to them that she was here to save them. For now, they had a role to play, with them as supplicants, and her as the princess. The hallway terminated in a pair of double doors, which did not budge when Twilight tried to open them. This was the doors’ mistake, being locked when an angry princess approached. She didn’t bother unlocking them, no, with a gentle telekinetic tap, she blasted the doors right off of their hinges and then stormed inside to the meeting beyond. Stepping over the felled doors, Twilight entered into the rather generic-but-opulent meeting room for executive types. A massive ornate table ran the length of the room, with plush, overstuffed chairs along each side. Making a split-second decision, Twilight chose the table, and with a single flap of her wings, lept up atop it. The doors, compelled by some unseen force, got up and put themselves back upon their hinges and with a click, locked themselves. There would be no escaping here… “This is a private meeting—” “Yes,” Twilight said, interrupting. “A private meeting. With me. Now tell me, what is going on. Why are you doing what you are doing?” “We owe you no explanation,” the one who had mentioned this was a private meeting replied. There was a dreadful tremour in his voice, a hint of the terror within. “That’s where you are wrong.” Twilight thumped her hoof against the table and sent ripples through the many water glasses. “I might not be Princess Celestia, or Princess Luna, but I am your princess. Refuse to answer me at your own peril.” “The rule of royalty is not what it once was. We owe you nothing.” In spite of herself, Twilight chuckled, rolled her eyes, and replied, “Fine. The hard way.” Swivelling her head about, she selected a pony at random, and cast a spell of Compelling Truth. For a second, the stallion glowed, illuminated by magic, and there was a gasp from the others. Nothing happened, not right away, but Twilight was a patient pony. Tapping one hoof upon the table, she waited. Then, the stallion blurted out, “I pay rent colts to spank me and I tell them about how much I hate the missus at home.” Startled, he covered his mouth with his hoof and there were alarmed gasps around the table. A battle took place as the stallion struggled to contain himself, but more came out: “I write my rent colt visits off as a business expense and I cheat on my taxes!” “Fascinating,” Twilight remarked with perfect deadpan delivery. “Anything else you wish to tell me?” “Yes!” the stallion nodded, while he had clearly tried to say, “No.” His face contorted in agony and though he kept trying to cram his hooves into his mouth, they kept pulling away. “I recently contracted genital warts! I think I might have given them to the missus. I really hate her, but her father is rich and all I have is because of him. And her! And oh, how I hate them both!” When she relaxed her magic to end the spell, the traumatised executive began sobbing. “Now,” she began again, “who wants to tell me what is going on?” “We’re cutting our losses,” a nervous mare replied. “Bourgogne Blintz cancelled all contracts and departed. With the contracts undone, we’re no longer under any obligation to continue financing.” “But it is more than just that,” a stallion said when the mare had finished speaking. “We’ve sunk assets into this bake-off. The ovens, the pots, the pans, the utensils, this is all advertising, really, for our products. With the contracts gone, now is the time to recover our assets, so we can sell them as ‘lightly used.’ Any further wear and tear is a detriment to our bottom lines. Please, show some understanding. We’re the victims here.” One of Twilight’s eyebrows arched in a manner truly Applejackian. “Bourgogne Blintz stiffed all of us,” another said, clearly seizing upon this opportunity for sympathy. “She even cancelled the payroll services and no doubt, some lawyer will come to us seeking payment. This isn’t fair to us.” “Yeah!” A hopeful looking mare nodded. “It’s not fair that she skipped town and we’re getting stuck with the bill.” “This isn’t over.” Twilight’s voice was icy with weird calm. “I’m not letting you end this for the sake of your bottom line. I will reimburse you for everything—” “You assume that we’ll sell to you. We have a right to choose our buyer!” One stallion made a bold stance. “We don’t owe you anything. We’re not obligated to surrender our goods to you. It’s about time that somepony stood up to the tyranny of the princesses. I almost went bankrupt when Princess Celestia ‘put her hoof down’ against Mariner and his ilk.” “Yeah,” another said, “I’d rather have buyers compete and see who will give me the best offer. No offense… but the Crown barely pays fair market value.” “There is the sentimental value to think of,” a mare interjected. “These goods were used in the last bake-off of its kind. Collectors will pay a premium to have them. We’ll get far better prices at auction than we will from the Crown.” “Sounds to me like you’ll be getting a significant amount of money.” Twilight glanced around, meeting what few eyes stared directly at her. She watched them squirm, realising their own admission and how it could be used against them. “Why not let the bake-off finish? Or do you want to cash in on victimhood so you can make out like bandits from what is sure to be scandal and outrage?” “I refuse to be bought out.” One stallion crossed his forelegs over his barrel and leaned back in his chair. “Equestria needs to progress beyond the antiquated trappings of royalty. Businesses and corporations cannot be bossed around like lowly peasants. We are the real wealth of Equestria, and it is about time that the Crown recognises who the real power is.” Hearing this caused Twilight to cluck her tongue, and she shook her head from side to side. When most of the rest of the gathered ponies began to nod in agreement, Twilight pitied them, but was also furious with them. So, it seemed, they were going to force her hoof. That was fine. She was a big girl and she could take a bit of roughing up. She felt no need to remind them that she, a princess, had defeated Tirek—an act that allowed civilisation to continue—which allowed them to have customers and consumers. Having the world end or to have civilisation collapse would be a real downer on the ol’ bottom line. Twilight realised that she was going to have to make a terrible choice.