The sun beat down on Fluttershy’s back and face, and the heat only seemed to get worse by the minute. She felt the smile that had been so well-worn the day before starting to slip as she trotted alongside Rarity down cobblestone streets. When they’d arrived at the Flower Show, the flower arrangements, the intricate displays, and sheer volume of vendors hawking their wares had left her breathless. That was yesterday. Now that sense of wonder was melting under the Fillydelphia heat.
Overburdened saddlebags further compounded her discomfort. After an hour of walking through unfamiliar locales, it had become unbearable. “Um, Rarity, I don’t mean to be rude but, do you have any idea where we’re going?”
“Of course I do darling!” Rarity declared. “You’ll see shortly.”
Blocks of ivied buildings came into view as Fluttershy and Rarity continued over a bridge. Brick construction and eclectic styles stood out against the brutalist cityscape. Prominent among them was a stadium located at the district’s edge. Banners adorned with a key insignia were draped over its exterior.
Fluttershy cocked her head. Where have I seen that logo before? Upon passing the statue of a portly stallion in bifocals, the answer became clear. “Rarity, what are we doing at the Academy of Fillydelphia?”
“Oh, whatever do you mean?” Rarity turned to her with a puzzled expression. “They’re hosting the Wonderbolts show, and you wouldn’t want to miss it now, would you?”
Fluttershy scrunched her wings. “Um… well, you see…”
“If you’re worried about walking to another train station, there’s no need. There’s one located just across from the stadium.”
Fluttershy took a deep breath, her brows furrowing. “You never said anything about a Wonderbolts show.”
Rarity stopped dead in her tracks. “I didn’t?”
Fluttershy shook her head.
“Oh…oh, dear.” Rarity looked askance, then rubbed her foreleg. “Well…last week, I was having lunch with Fancy Pants when he offered me two VIP tickets. He told me there was an important meeting he couldn’t miss. I thought it would be such a shame to waste them.” She forced a smile.
Fluttershy sighed. After their trek through the city heat, she wanted nothing more than to return to her animals. Come on. Just say no. But she couldn’t. That word died in her throat at the thought of rebuking Rarity so harshly. “Oh fine…”
“Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rarity pulled her into a quick hug, then pulled away, trotting ahead. “I’ll make it up to you later. Now, let’s pick up the pace. We’re almost there!”
Fluttershy’s wings hung limp at her sides. She knew the stadium was only a few blocks away, but it felt like miles. Every minute out in the open, under the summer sun sapped her scarce remaining strength. Oh… Why didn’t I just say no? We could’ve just gone to the station. Each step was accompanied by a labored breath.
Approaching the stadium entrance, she felt a pleasant breeze wash over her. Startled, she looked up at the sky. A cloud burst into fluff without warning. Who would be flying in this weather? But the thought evaporated before she could examine it further. Focusing on anything in the oppressive heat proved impossible.
After navigating through the crowded hallways, Fluttershy and Rarity found themselves at a corridor blocked off by velvet rope. Portraits lined its walls, and scattered among the assorted faces were Fancy Pants and Spitfire. At the end of the corridor was an ornate door, guarded by a bald stallion wearing a black suit and sunglasses. Smiling, Rarity reached into her saddlebags and flashed a pair of gilded tickets. The stallion nodded then unhooked the rope. “Right this way, Miss. The elevator will take you the VIP level.”
The elevator doors opened on another empty portrait-lined hallway. Rarity harrumphed. “Well, this is hardly the view I was expecting.” She glanced over at Fluttershy. “But, of course, this is just the hallway to the box. I’m sure those accommodations will be much more inviting,” she quickly backpedaled.
After a quick and fruitful search, they arrived at the door indicated by the suite number on their ticket, and, entering, were met with a glass box, stylishly decorated. On one wall was the school crest, under which was a minibar well-stocked. Near the window was a sectional couch arranged in a semicircle. Just outside was also a row of private stands, although it appeared that at least on the VIP level, few ponies dared brave the heat.
Rarity flopped onto the couch and pulled out her sketchbook. Settling on a cushion next to her, Fluttershy’s eyes scanned the crowds. The stands were packed to capacity. Foals and fillies vibrated with excitement as parents returned bearing snacks. Vendors loaded with merchandise marched up and down the aisles. Newsponies leaned over the guardrail, their cameras trained on the player tunnel. Security monitored the crowds from their posts near the entrance. All the usual suspects that Fluttershy had come to know from a Wonderbolts show. She glanced up at the commentators’ box. That octopus looks really excited. She then looked down at the field as the groundskeeper completed his final inspection.
It took a minute for the realization to hit Fluttershy. Wait a minute! Octopus?! Her gaze snapped back to the commentator’s box. There was the octopus. She shook her head and blinked, hoping to dispel the obvious mirage.
However, the octopus was still there. It happily munched on a bag of popcorn, unnoticed by countless ponies milling about the stands. As she looked closer, its bizarre nature came to light. It sat upright and wore a graduation gown with a tiny cap atop its head. A backpack and several books laid by its right side. A mountain of stadium concessions rested on its left. Unease washed over Fluttershy. What even is that thing?
After flipping through one of its books, the octopus swept its gaze across the stadium. Fluttershy cocked her head. Huh, I wonder what its looking for? She received her answer when their eyes met. An eternity seemed to pass in that second. The octopus then waved to her. Fluttershy’s blood ran cold. She reached over and violently shook Rarity without losing sight of the octopus. “Um, Rarity, I think we might have a problem! It’s staring right at us!”
Rarity stifled a groan as her glasses clattered to the floor. She put down her sketchbook then scanned the stadium, her mouth curling into a frown. “Who are you talking about? I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
“What do you mean?!” Fluttershy shrieked, jabbing a hoof at the commentators’ box. “The octopus! It’s right there!”
“Fluttershy, are feeling alright?” Rarity asked in a slow, deliberate tone. Her eyes brimmed with concern.
Fluttershy felt her heart sink. I couldn’t be… Looking back across the stadium, her fears were confirmed. “H-How?” It had only been for a split-second yet, somehow, the octopus had vanished. In fact, all of its belongings were also gone. Try as she might, Fluttershy couldn’t find any trace of its presence left. It was like the octopus never existed at all. “B-But it was right there.” Fluttershy’s leg fell limply to her side. “You believe me, right, Rarity?”
“Oh, Fluttershy, your eyes just playing tricks on you. I mean, really, how would an octopus even get here?” Rarity placed a hoof on her forehead. “Fluttershy, you’re burning up. You probably dehydrated from the walk here,” she said, igniting her horn. A glass of water then floated across the room and set itself down on the table. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
As Fluttershy stared at the water, she was met by the crazed eyes of her reflection. The blood had drained from her face. Her legs trembled. Her mane dripped with sweat. Was I really just imagining things? It felt so real. Fluttershy closed her eyes, exhaled, then gulped down the water. The relief was instantaneous. A quick glance at the stadium brought a weak smile to her face. The octopus hadn’t returned. I guess it really was a mirage. As the anxiety faded, a new feeling surfaced. A deep red stained Fluttershy’s muzzle. “Rarity, I’m so sorry for making you worry like that! I just don’t know what came over me and-”
Rarity held out a hoof and smiled. “Fluttershy, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all have our…episodes,” she chuckled sheepishly. “I’ve certainly had my fair share.”
Fluttershy jumped in her seat as the stadium’s speakers hummed to life. A raspy voice spoke, “Ladies and Gentlecolts, thank you for joining us here in beautiful Fillydelphia! With no further ado, let’s start the show!” A bombastic tune filled the stadium, fueling the crowd’s anticipation. Hundreds of eyes were drawn to the player tunnel. Excitement was palpable in the air. Moments later, a fiery mane emerged from the darkness. Cheers and applause shook the stadium as Spitfire and the other Wonderbolts sauntered onto centerfield.
“See, Fluttershy. No need to worry.” Rarity gestured to the field. “Now, let’s relax and enjoy the show. We still have the long train ride to Ponyville ahead of us.”
“Right.” Fluttershy said, reclining against the backrest. The Wonderbolts began spiraling around the stadium’s edge. Half flew in the reverse direction. The formation gradually narrowed until mere inches separated them disaster. The crowd leaned forward with bated breath. When collision seemed inevitable, the Wonderbolts pulled up at the last instant to everypony’s delight and relief.
However, Fluttershy couldn’t fully lose herself in the aerial spectacle. A seed of doubt in the back of her mind began to germinate. The image of that octopus refused to vanish. She frowned. Something’s not right.
While the crowd was captivated by the show, Korosensei’s gaze scanned the city’s skyline, visible from the VIP boxes. A lone figure stood atop the city hall. He inhaled then waited for the inevitable muzzle flash. Minutes passed.
Perplexed, he reexamined the figure, then let out a chuckle. “Silly me, that’s just a statue.” He turned his attention to the Wonderbolts passing overhead. “It’s nice being able to watch something without worrying about snipers.”
A surge of wind buffeted Korosensei, knocking the bucket of popcorn out of his tentacles. He gathered up the loose kernels in time to catch the two fliers accelerating toward each other. Aileron rolls performed at the last instant prevented their crash. Korosensei then leaned back as whole team pulled into a steep climb. “It never occurred to me how much work went into flying,” Korosensei remarked, shielding his eyes from the sun. It was an odd paradox to ponder since flight was his primary travel method. Yet, it was rarely given much consideration until he witnessed the speed and finesse of their choreography. The crowd roared with delight as the fliers ascended above the stadium. Wings snapped shut as they reached their apex. They plummeted for a moment before transitioning into synchronous tail-slides.
In spite of the aerobatic prowess on display, Korosensei couldn’t ignore one particular bothersome thought. “How are they able to fly?”
That quandary had plagued Korosensei since arriving in Equestria. Magic was involved, that was clear from the books he’d read at Discord’s house, but they didn’t provide an answer for everything. How much of flying depended on magic? How much on physical strength? How could pegasi achieve lift without hollow bones? How do their bodies tolerate the forces active during flight? He munched the last of his popcorn while those questions bounced around his head.
Another cheer erupted from the crowd and Korosensei felt a rush of nostalgia, his mind drifting back to the first days of class. “Hard to believe the school year is almost done.” He sighed wistfully, “It feels like only yesterday that I was helping Sugino with baseball.” He then bolted upright. “Wait, that’s it! What better way to learn about pegasi flight than examining the best fliers in Equestria up close.”
Korosensei packed up his belongings and glided to the VIP box’s edge, peering down the field. A pair of Wonderbolts were catching their breaths while their teammates entertained the crowd. What fortuitous timing. Body tensed, Korosensei was prepared to swoop in when something caught his attention. Fillies clamored around the guardrail and waved at their idols, eyes shining with joy. Hesitation stabbed at Korosensei’s heart, forcing him to step back. The prospect of crashing the show suddenly lost its appeal. Still, when will I have a chance like this again? He rubbed his non-existent chin, vexed.
The loudspeaker’s squeaky hum interrupted Korosensei’s musing. “Ladies and gentlecolts, we hoped you enjoyed the show! Now, brace yourselves for the grand finale!” The music swelled and climbed to a crescendo, barely drowning out the crowd’s adulation. All eyes fell on the pair of Wonderbolts trotting to center field. They grinned, nodded to each other, then rocketed upward in a burst of azure smoke.
“I suppose I can wait a few more minutes,” Korosensei said, gazing on the ocean of joyous faces in the stands. “Besides, it would have been rude of me to interrupt.”
After pulling up out of their final trick, the Wonderbolts alighted on the field to thunderous adulation of their fans. Peals of cheering and applause shook the stadium down to its foundation. Fluttershy groaned, ears flattening against her head. She shut her eyes in anticipation of the impending wall of sound. It soon filtered into the room though not how she had expected it. Wait, that’s it? Instead of a deafening roar, all Fluttershy heard were the mini-bar’s contents clinking against each other. “Huh, I didn’t expect this place to be so…quiet.”
“The wonders of box seating, darling. I expected nothing less since Fancy Pants was involved.” Rarity took a sip of water then turned to Fluttershy, smiling. “Now, aren’t you glad we stayed for the show?”
That grin soon withered under Fluttershy’s humorless stare. Rarity squirmed in her seat until she noticed a tiny smirk upon Fluttershy’s face. She blinked then frowned as Fluttershy began to snicker. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. I can see that Discord is rubbing off on you.”
“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” Fluttershy said, wiping a tear away, “but I really did enjoy the show.” A smile crept onto her face. Without the cheer-induced migraine, she finally understood why Rainbow Dash had dragged her to so many shows. There was something about the aesthetic beauty of flight which transcended social boundaries and infused the air with an infectious glee. She let out a contented sigh as warmth washed over her.
That feeling lasted only for a few seconds before yellow tentacles sprouted from the ground. Fluttershy felt her legs go numb as the room crumbled away and fear swallowed her whole. It was impossible to deny what her eyes were witnessing. The octopus is real.
Its tentacles burst out of centerfield as the Wonderbolts waved to their fans, showering the stands with dirt. All cheering and jubilation died with a strangled croak. Concessions and fan memorabilia slipped out of their owners’ hoofs. The loudspeakers emitted a harsh screech before cutting out. The Wonderbolts blinked then glanced over their shoulders and froze. Everypony in the stadium held their collective breathes while tentacles stretched toward the sky.
Groping blindly around the stadium, the tentacles probed and inspected every piece of the stadium’s architecture. A miasma of fear and anticipation hung over the crowd. Ponies fidgeted in their seats and huddled together as the slimy appendages crept ever closer. Terror was evident on their faces yet nopony dared to attempt escape, lest it attract unwanted attention to themselves.
The dam finally broke when a tentacle slithered toward the private stands and a lone scream unleashed seven minutes of bottled-up dread. Terrified yells inundated the air as the once cheerful crowd devolved into a terrified mob.
The tentacles perked up before descending upon the crowd with blinding speed. The Wonderbolts scrambled to action, batting away the tentacles while their fans evacuated. Pegasi leapt from their seats and flew over stadium’s edge. Several unicorns vanished in bursts of light while others joined the earth ponies stampeding toward the nearest exit. Event staff tried to preserve some small degree of order, but were swiftly overrun and swept away by the panicked masses.
High above the stands, Fluttershy watched in horror as ponies scrambled over each other. All traces of that comfortable warmth had vanished. Every fiber of her being screamed for Fluttershy to escape yet she was unable to move her limbs. Fear anchored her to the couch. I knew it! It’s real! That octopus is real!. Those word bounced throughout her mind until a tiny detail jumped to the forefront. A pit formed in her stomach as images of the creature waving to her flashed before her eyes. Wait… It knows where I am! I have to get out of here! She mustered her strength and clapped a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder, her voice strained. “Rarity, we need to get out of here. Now.”
There was no response from Rarity, her gaze fixated on the tentacles. Crimson tinged her muzzle. A strand of drool hung from her slacken jaw. An expression that had become an infuriatingly recurrent sight to Fluttershy. “You cannot be serious.” She scowled, gripping Rarity’s other shoulder and shaking her. “Come on, snap out of it! Now’s not the time for one of your fantasies!”
“W-W-What?!” Rarity shrieked, recoiling from the accusation. “H-How can you say something like that, Fluttershy? I wasn’t fantasizing or anything of the sort. I was simply, uh-”
“Rarity, look!”
As quick as the tentacles had appeared, there too came a shadow intruding into their sanctum. Seconds felt like hours as Rarity and Fluttershy stared up at that thing in the window. But then Fluttershy’s vision focused. Wait… Is that…
“Soarin!” Rarity shouted, making the connection instantly.
The Wonderbolt vice-captain shot them a grin, “Don’t worry, ladies. I’ll have you out of there in a-“
THONK! A sudden impact rocked the box as Soarin collided with the plate glass window. Fluttershy nearly leapt out her skin as the structure around her shuddered. All of Rarity’s enthusiasm vanished, instantly replaced by dread as the glass cracked into spiderwebs.
You know, for all that flying prowess, those Wonderbolts sure are useless.
Soarin let out a groan. Peeling his body off the glass, he floundered in the air before regaining equilibrium. He massaged his head and looked around the stadium, settling on Fluttershy and Rarity’s deflated stares. His cheeks reddened and he began gesticulating at them, but his frantic attempt at a pantomimed explanation was cut short when a tentacle snared his hind leg. A shrill yelp escaped his throat in the split-second before he was yanked out of sight.
“So.” Rarity cleared her throat as she climbed off the couch. “We’d best be heading to the station. We, ah, wouldn’t want to miss our train, right?”
Fluttershy gave a wry smile. “Right.”
Spitfire’s eye twitched. Of all the days for something to happen, why did it have to be TODAY?. She sighed, slumping against the stadium wall. No point in getting angry. Nothing to be done. Deliberately averting her gaze from the madness that had descended upon the stadium, but her willful ignorance was broken as her vice-captain sped in front of her, pursued by tentacles.
“Bad Touch! BAD TOUCH!” Soarin screamed, flapping his wings with all his might. Not that it mattered to the tentacle which had snared his hind leg. It slowly reeled him in while the other tentacles lay in waiting.
As the tentacles descended upon Soarin, Spitfire’s mind wandered. And here I thought having the magic sucked out of us by a megalomaniacal centaur was the worst thing that ever happened to the Wonderbolts. She shrugged. Who among us knows what the future holds.
“There you are captain!” a voice called out, knocking Spitfire from her reverie. She straightened her posture as Fleetfoot landed nearby. “Here to report that the stadium has been successfully evacuated.”
A flurry of shutter clicks caught their attention. Spitfire and Fleetfoot peered over the guardrail to discover a small army of photographers occupying the stands. Oblivious to their presence, the paparazzi scurried about, searching for that perfect angle.
“I swear those guys weren’t there a minute ago!” Fleetfoot shouted over the din, “Want me to send these culture vultures packing?”
“Don’t bother,” Spitfire said with a dismissive wave. “Let them have their fun.” Besides, She thought, It’s not like they’d stay gone. Once they smell fresh kill, they’re hard to get rid of.
“Then I’ll go get the others so we can save Soarin.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Fleetfoot gasped. “What are you talking about Captain?”
Spitfire grimaced. “All we can do is stand here and wait this mess out.”
“What?! ” She stomped her hoof. “He’s our teammate! We pledged our loyalty to each other! We said we’d always have each others’ backs!”
Spitfire thought back to the numerous times she recited the pledge. Right. That stupid thing. “Yes, that’s true. However, there are a few exceptions.” Her grimace intensified. “And tentacles are one of them.”
“No offense Captain but what kind of bucking excuse is that?!”
Spitfire cocked an eyebrow.
“Our comrade is up there fighting against those tentacles and you expect me to just stand here and do nothing?!”
“Worse Touch! WORSE TOUCH!” Soarin blazed past them again, the tentacles now fully engulfing both hind legs.
Spitfire looked Fleetfoot dead in the eye. “Listen, I’ve read enough hentai to know where this is going and I want no part of it. But if you’re so gung-ho about saving him, be my guest! Just don’t come crying to me when pictures of you and those tentacles show up in every newspaper in Equestria.”
Fleetfoot opened her mouth but no words came out. She turned her head and froze. Her gaze darted between Soarin, the tentacles, and the paparazzi scurrying about the stands. “A-actually, you may have a point there,” she said, her fiery resolve reduced to embers.
“I’m glad you see it my way.” Spitfire breathed a sigh of relief. Then she smiled. “Besides, it’s Soarin. He’ll be fine.” She turned her head and shouted, “Right, Soarin?”
“WORST TOUCH!” Soarin was stopped in his tracks, his body fully engulfed in tentacles. “WORST TOUCH IMAGINABLE!” Without warning, the tentacles released their grip and vanished. Soarin hung in the air for a moment, then plummeted to the stadium floor. A dull thud resonated throughout stadium.
Groaning, he opened his eyes to see Fleetfoot and Spitfire standing over him. “C-captain,” he sighed. “Did I do good?”
“Sure,” she said, offering a helping hoof, “You did great. Thanks for taking one for the team.” She turned to Fleetfoot, “See? Everything sorted itself out and nopony else had to get felt up by tentacles.”
Suddenly, a pair of tentacles erupted out of the ground. All three ponies immediately leapt away. Soarin sprinted away only for the tentacles to cut him off at each turn, bursting out of the ground at each point. “What now?”
“I think they want your autograph!” Fleetfoot shouted from a safe distance.
Soarin stopped, as did the tentacles. His eye began to twitch. “Oh, is that so? Fine. I’ll give them an autograph alright,” he growled. Grabbing the pen with his teeth, he furiously scribbled something onto the page then spat it out. “How’s that for an autograph?!”
Spitfire craned her neck to the side and read the inscription aloud, “Buck you, Tentacles?”
Seemingly appeased, the tentacles retreated along with the autograph book. Soarin paused and scanned the area. His gaze darted between the numerous holes littering the field. After a minute, he relaxed then turned to the player tunnel. “Now, if you don’t mind Captain, I’ll be taking a long pie break.”
As Soarin began walking, the stadium manager bolted onto the field. He skidded to a halt in front of the assembled Wonderbolts, his eyes wild and frantic. Splotches of dirt marred his suit. Sweat dripped from his brow. “Captain Spitfire! Vice-Captain Soarin! Something terrible has happened!”
“Unless it has something to do with my pies, I don’t care,” Soarin said, pushing past the stallion without a second glance.
“Well, um, t-that’s the thing,” the manager stammered. “All of the pies are gone…”
Soarin whirled around and him eye-to-eye, a mere inch separating their faces. He loomed over the quivering unicorn, raising a hoof. “If this is a joke, I swear, I’ll-”
“I’m not! I swear it!” The manager squealed, shielding his face.
Spitfire jumped between the two and forced her vice-captain back. “Soarin! Have you lost your bucking mind?!” she hissed. “Think about your surroundings!” A second later and the manager’s bloody face would be all over the front page of every newspaper in Equestria.
“That’s impossible!” Soarin barked. “There were forty pies! Forty! That’s as many as four tens!”
“Yes, Soarin, we know basic multiplication.” She turned to the manager. “How is that even possible?”
“I-I don’t know. It all happened so quickly.” The manager wiped his face with a handkerchief. “I was in the cafeteria, chatting with security when a gust knocked us over. By the time we got up, everything was gone.”
“You’ve must have seen something! Did you check the cameras?”
“That’s when it gets strange. Looking back at the footage, the pies are there in one frame, then a yellow blur, and the pies are gone in the next.”
Soarin fell to his haunches. He threw back his head and howled, “NOOOOOOOOOOO!”
A fresh peal of shutter clicks echoed throughout the stadium. As Sptifire shook her head, something curious caught her attention. A yellow blip lanced across the sky, disrupting clouds in its wake. “Just what in Equestria is going on?” Spitfire muttered aloud.
She glanced back to Soarin who had collapsed to the ground, his vacant eyes staring into the distance. Fleetfoot poked him a few times but there was no visible response. Spitfire sighed and trudged back to the locker room. “The Princess should probably know about this.”
“I’m sorry could you repeat that?”
“It’s simple. We’re gonna build a wall. And the griffons are gonna pay for it,” Golden Towers declared, his mane stock still amid his wild gesticulations.
Princess Celestia stared back at orange stallion. No matter how much she listened, she couldn’t determine his motive. “How?”
“Tariffs.”
Celestia’s snout wrinkled as an acrid smell assailed her nostrils. “Does anypony else here smell burning toast?” Celestia scanned the debate hall. “No? Just me?” Noticing discomfort among the council members, she glanced over to the eastern window. Plumes of inky smoke billowed from a nearby building. Just another bakery fire in this burnt-out burg. She turned back to Golden Towers, her face setting into a scowl black as the smoke on the horizon. “Even if I were stroking out, which I definitely am not, I can say with diamond-clarity that is the single worst idea I’ve heard in my entire thousand year reign.”
Normally, that would have ended the debate. Innumerable ponies had stood before this throne and proposed ideas ranging from merely stupid to outright insane. All had been cut down by a few harsh words. While some had realized their mistake and other voiced their disagreement, they all would eventually acquiesce. It was inconceivable for anypony to question the wisdom of Celestia, Eternal Princess of the Iron Throne of Canterlot, Bringer of Peace and Harmony, Vanquisher of All Things Discordant.
However, Golden Towers seemed to hold all norms in utter contempt. He sneered, bared his teeth, then launched into another rant. “You’re obviously ignoring the caravans of pimps and drug dealers that came streaming over the Mexicoltan border in the last six months alone. Folks, I’ve seen ‘em. They’re bringing drugs, they’re bringing weapons. Some, I assume, are good ponies.”
Celestia blinked. “Caravans?” She thought a moment. What in Tartarus does he mean by Caravans? Then it dawned on her. She blinked. “You mean the traders?!” He grinned. “We give them our fruit crop and they bring us sugar!” Celestia pounded the throne’s armrest, her hoof crunching through the hardwood. “And cacao! And spices! And all the other things our entire cake-based economy needs in order to function!”
“Like it or not, Celestia, we will have our wall. Even if we have to shut down the government.” A chorus of elderly voices echoed that sentiment. Golden Towers’ smile only grew as he basked in their support.
Celestia flinched. Despair seeped into her bones. So he’s a moron…and others are actually supporting him…Why me? For the briefest moment, she considered just letting them have their stupid wall. Holding back the relentless march of idiocracy had proven agonizing over the centuries, especially for just one pony. Why should she suffer further? No! I did spend the last thousand years building this country from the ground up just to let these morons muck it up!
Mustering up her resolve, she exhaled sharply then turned to the assembly with her politest smile. “Do it. I dare you.”
Golden Towers smiled again. “All in favor?” A sea of raised hooves. “All opposed?” A single hoof shot up. An additional four joined with tepid enthusiasm.
Celestia smirked. “Alright, fine.” She removed her crown and flung it aside, eliciting a series of gasps. The pins and needles of long dormant hooves rushed into her limbs as she rose from the throne and stretched. The crushing weight of office was lifted from her shoulders. “I’ll just be taking my cakes and getting the buck out of here.”
As she skipped to the pedestal, the cakes vanished in a flash of yellow. Celestia paused, staring at empty plate. She slowly turned back to the assembly. “What did you do with my cakes?”
The crowd of legislators parted. Emerging from the shadows, an elderly unicorn shambled toward the lectern. Skin hung from his lanky frame like sodden cloth. The only part of him that was taut were his lips and his eyes shined like diamonds.
Celestia’s stomach lurched. “Legislative Block,” she growled under her breath.
“Princess Celestia,” he drawled. “According to our bylaws, you can’t have those cakes until the meeting is adjourned. And with the government shut down, none of us has the power to declare adjournment until we reconvene.”
Celestia’s smile faltered, albeit for a moment. “Well that’s fine. I’ll go the castle bakery and get something else then.”
“Not so fast!” Golden Towers shouted. “During a government shutdown, all non-essential functions within the castle also shut down.”
Block smirked. “That includes the castle bakery.”
Celestia shrugged, continuing toward the exit. “Okay then, it’s not like I have to go far to find another bakery. This is Canterlot after all. I’ll just leave the castle and-”
“Actually,” Legislative Block interjected, “It’s illegal for the princess to leave castle grounds during a shutdown.”
Celestia halted mid-stride, her hoof meeting the floor with a thunderous crack. Fissures radiated out across the marble surface. She slowly craned her neck around and glared at the old unicorn, eyes aglow with rage. “Since when?!”
Legislative Block blinked then reached into his suit and produced a stack of documents. “We approved this legislation three weeks ago. You signed off on it.”
Celestia tore the papers from his grasp and furiously poured over its contents. Her heart sunk upon reaching the seventh page. The clause was real, smuggled between some innocuous spending provisions. Bucking riders! Her seal and signature were undisputable on the final page. This is public health bill too. No way to have it voided without creating a PR nightmare.
Legislative Block’s jowls shook as his lips parted into a smile.
Hot acid filled her mouth and the flesh around her horn turned bright red. The vein on her forehead bulged as her blood pressure shot up several dozen points. Why you feckless, slimy mother- Celestia grit her teeth, then exhaled. “Fine then, let’s hash this out.”
“Sorry! No can do!” Golden Towers announced, barely disguised glee. “I’m going furniture shopping with Stormy Weather. It’s our monthly tradition and I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting. It’ll take all day so we’ll have resume tomorrow.” He shot Celestia a final smug grin before disappearing through the doorway.
When the last noble had shuffled out, Celestia let out an inarticulate howl. Her guards scrambled to the vestibule as she began to quake. A curtain of red bound her sight. She scanned the hall for an object sturdy enough to absorb her rage. A well-adorned Corinthian pillar imbedded in the back wall caught her eye, its granite masonry beckoning. Yes…That’ll have to do.
Rushing over, Celestia braced herself then slammed her head into the pillar. She struck it again and again and again. Stone fragments rained down with each blow. After a minute of bashing, the red had drained from her sight. She stepped back to assess the damage. A hole roughly the size of a volleyball now marred the pillar. A pang of regret stabbed at her heart. She personally knew the masons who built the debate hall, their descendants still lived in Canterlot. And she had just destroyed their artistry in a fit of anger. Placing a hoof on the wall, Celestia hung her head and sighed. What am I even doing anymore?
A hoof tapping on her shoulder disrupted her melancholy. Seized by anger, Celestia whirled around and shouted, “What?!”
Fancy Pants stood a mere foot away, unfazed by the outburst. He readjusted his monocle then held out a cushion with her crown resting atop it. “Even in trying times, it’s important that we maintain appearances,” he said with a wink.
Celestia begrudgingly accepted back her crown, but upon closer inspection the cushion was not in fact a cushion, but a velvet satchel. And inside of that was…
She looked back up to find Fancy Pants had already left. But why would he disobey the council?
A guard poked his head through the doorway. “Is it safe?”
Celestia hastily teleported the contraband-filled satchel to her chambers.
“Yes,” she sighed, “It’s safe.”
The guards resumed their posts at each flank. She smiled to herself. Perhaps Canterlot will burn another day.