//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Addressed to the Public // Story: The Long Nightmare // by The Sonic Mage //------------------------------// (Still in the past. About two days after chapter 3) “No.” “Prince Blueblood, I insist.” “No.” “It would look absolutely fabulous-” “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but my answer is still no.” Whenever Blueblood wasn’t out aiding the police, on study sessions on how to be a prince or in his office working on profiles and financials, he found himself in disagreement with certain members of the castle staff. At this moment it was the Royal wardrobe maker that he was debating with. “I’m not going to wear my finest suit to this,” the Prince reiterated, “It’s an interview for The Canterlot Town-Crier, not a party.” “True, but one should always look their best when in the public eye.” Blueblood knew that Godfreed meant well, but sometimes he couldn’t help but shake his head. “The point of this isn’t to show off my clothes. The point is to answer any questions that the public may have.”  “But surely that doesn’t mean you have to go to it in a regular dress shirt and blazer jacket.” What Blueblood wanted to wear to the interview was a simple white dress shirt, black necktie, and a dark blue blazer.  What Godfreed wanted him to wear was a very expensive, fancy tuxedo. It wasn’t a bad tuxedo by any means, it was just that… “I just think it’s too fancy for what I’m doing,” Blueblood knew this would go on for a long time, so he quickly came up with a compromise. “Look, Godfreed, if you will let me wear this blazer to the interview, I will wear the tuxedo to the next big event. Sound fair?” The Royal fashion expert sighed, but accepted. “Very well, Prince, I will lay the matter to rest. But you will have to consider the option of a formal cape in the future as well!” He lays a condition with finality with Blueblood although not liking the idea too much ultimately relinquish and nod  “Thank you, Godfreed.” With that matter settled, he put on the shirt, tie, and blazer, as Godfreed dusted his shoulders.  “How do I look?” The Prince asked. “Marvelous, Sir.” “Well, I best be off,” Blueblood walked over to the door and opened it, “Wish me-oh!” He almost ended up bumping into a short, marble colored, unicorn mare wearing glasses with her mane done up in a bun, holding a clipboard. She was a character he was all too familiar with “Clean Speech.” “Prince Blueblood.” Clean Speech was the chief royal press secretary. She wasn’t keen on a lot of things: Late reports, off-script responses and questions, all the things that any press secretary would dislike. But if there was one thing that drove her up the wall, it would be Blueblood’s recent antics in city areas. They caused such a buzz, that it made her job more complicated than it needed to be, in her opinion. “What can I do for you, Speech?” “What’s this I hear about an interview?” The press secretary asked. “Well,” the Prince said, “I’m going to a newspaper interview.” “Really?,” Clean Speech responded sarcastically with a raised eyebrow, “You don’t say? This is the first I’ve heard about it.” Speech looked over the notes on her clipboard. “Nope, nothing here about Prince Blueblood having an interview. Which can mean only one thing…” ‘Here we go,’ Blueblood thought. “...You didn’t tell me about it.” Speech moved the clipboard to her side, looking up at the Prince with an annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” “I went into your department to do just that, but you were busy with other matters,” Blueblood explained, “Matters that seemed more important than me and an interview. So I gave it to your second-in-command, Spell Check.” “You should have told me about it, and let me handle it, because this is a scheduled media appearance by a prominent member of The Royal Family, so therefore it falls well within my purview.” “Okay, Speech, I’m sorry I didn’t go to you directly,” Blueblood said, “I promise, next time I will leave it on your desk with a detailed note, all inside an envelope.” There was a moment of silent consideration on Clean Speech’s part “Very well.” She said matter-of-factly. “Thank you,” Blueblood said, levitating a stack of notes, papers, and a saddle bag over from his dresser. He slipped the papers into the bag and rested it over his shoulders.  “Wish me luck!” the Prince said to Clean Speech as he began to walk down the hall. He didn’t get far before he stopped and looked next to him. Clean Speech was walking right beside him, flipping through the pages on her clipboard.  “Are you…coming with me?”  “Yes.” The press secretary didn’t look up from her clipboard. “Spell Check is already there.” “I know,” she said, “I’m going to relieve her of this assignment when we get there.” This made Blueblood stop in his tracks and whirl around to face Clean Speech “What, why?” “Because I refuse to let anything involving you be handled by anyone in a secondary position,” Clean Speech explained. Blueblood arched an eyebrow, “Sounds more like you don’t trust in the abilities of your subordinates.” “Do you expect me to not come?” “No, I expect you to let Spell Check stay on this assignment,” Blueblood explained, “Rather than making them feel inadequate unnecessarily.” Clean Speech groaned and massaged the bridge of her muzzle behind her glasses. “Very well, I won’t take them off the assignment, but I am still going to come to ensure that this goes right.” “Thank you, Clean Speech.” “You’re welcome.” The two resumed walking to the press room where the reporter was waiting.  Upon opening the door, they found Spell Check and the reporter having a rather…interesting discussion. “That question is entirely off topic, and it sounds like an attack.” “I’m a reporter, do you expect me to not ask hard hitting questions?” “I expect you ask questions that remain on topic for an article in a credible newspaper,” Spell Check said, “Not intrusive, personal inquiries for a tabloid magazine!” “*Ahem*” The two stopped bickering the moment Blueblood made his presence known, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The reporter, a brown pegasus mare with a yellow mane, fluttered over to the Prince and Chief Press Secretary. “Prince Blueblood, Your Majesty, It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” The Prince shook the reporter’s hoof. “It’s nice to meet you to.” The reporter motioned over to the table in the room, “Shall we begin the interview?” “By all means.” The Prince and reporter walked over to the table, while Clean Speech and Spell Check stood off to the side, both ready to pounce if they had to. The reporter placed a blue enchanted crystal on the table and tapped it, triggering the auto-scribe spell it contained. “So, Your Majesty,” the reporter began, “For the sake of pleasantries, how are you doing today?” “I’m doing well. And please, just ‘Blueblood’ will do.” The response made the pegasus pause for a moment, but she carried on. “So, if I may Blueblood, could you shed some light on your recent activities in the metropolitan areas of Equestreia?” The two press secretaries glared at the reporter. “Uh…pardon?” Blueblood asked. “Your active role with the police forces and guard. Could you elaborate on that?” “That is not the subject of the interview,” Spell Check said, “You are supposed to stay on topic.” “Do you expect no one to ask about this?” the reporter asked, “A ‘one-on-one’ opportunity like this doesn’t come often.” “Then you should have made that the subject of your interview.” Clean Speech responded.  The three probably would have started attacking each other, had Blueblood not let out a whistle. “Now that I have your attention,” the Prince looked to the secretaries, “I will answer the question,” then back at the reporter, “Provided that all other questions are about the updated trade policies my aunts have handed down.” There was a silence that hung in the air for a brief period.  Blueblood looked between the two parties. “Sound fair?” The conflicting trio quietly agreed. “Good,” Blueblood looked back to the reporter. “I suggest you choose your question wisely.” “Well…You’ve been running all about Equestreia: Manehattan, Trottingham, Canterlot, etc. And in all those areas you’ve taken quite an active role in the arrest of several criminal figures.  “You also engaged in similar activities during your exile. So I suppose the question on everypony’s mind is, to put it simply: Why?” Blueblood took a moment to consider his words before speaking. “Because it’s my responsibility.” He said plainly. Sensing the need for elaboration, Blueblood continued. “Sure, all those places might have looked nice and pretty at first glance, but you take away the veil and you see a deep network of corruption, crime and misery…and even unconsciously, I was the one that let it get that far. Even with my first arrest of Fort Knox, by cleaning my first mess I only left a vacuum of power for others to try to become the next kingpin, that is why I needed to help. All those criminals were created because of me, so it my responsibility to end their reign of terror and return Equestria to its former glory, before my mistakes “Several of the crime lords that were in power in the past such as Fort Knox, and the ones in power now, got that power because of my actions, whether I was aware of it or not. And seeing as how it was my actions that lead to the current mess, it’s necessary that I clean it up. “It may take a while, as many great efforts do, but it will happen. And should anypony who is criminally involved read this, then I can tell them this: ‘You are not needed. There are better ways to gain money and power. Crime will not pay.” There was a silence in the room for a moment. The reporter was entranced by Blueblood’s words. Clean speech quietly rolled her eyes at the Prince’s monologue. “Did you get all that?” Blueblood asked. The reporter blinked, bringing herself back. “Every word, Your Majesty.” “Good,” Blueblood straightened his tie and cleared his throat, “Now how about we discuss what this interview was supposed to focus on.” “Of course.” “Can I trust that you will publish this before you write an article on my escapades?” “Absolutely,” the reporter assured the Prince, “Now, about these new trade policies…” The reporter kept her word. Blueblood’s response to her question regarding his anti-criminal activities wasn’t published until the following week.  Reactions were mixed. Some saw it as a grand thing to be celebrated that somepony was out to help them, and that their Prince was trying to change for the better. Others saw it only as an elaborate ruse for the Prince to gain popularity. Some just didn’t care. Low rent criminals felt uneasy or unsafe. High-rise gangsters either ripped up the paper, broke something in their room, or shrugged it off. While one pony, in an old crummy apartment somewhere in the city, sat in a busted-up armchair, laughing hysterically. Just… …Laughing