//------------------------------//
// Useful Collar 
// Story: The Composer 
// by Smug Anime Girl 
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It had been some time since Andante had returned from his trip, and he had more or less caught up with the recent events. A record of Vivid Shining Sky lay on piano, scratched and broken already.

Andante was sitting on his couch eating stale biscuits and drinking tea. A red collar with golden studs attached rested on the coffee table, a clip where the Bewitching Bell once hung was set off to the side, smashed and worthless. He felt like a child waiting to open a Hearths Warming Eve present, and the snow drifting down outside certainly added to his bottled up excitement.

"I suppose now is a good time as any." Andante sighed. "New Years is right around the corner, and the Grand Galloping Gala..."

With a grunt, he heaved himself onto his hooves and slowly slipped on a coat. After pausing a moment, he shoved the collar into his coat. It bulged out a little, but not enough to be instantly noticeable.

With everything ready, Andante stepped outside. A blast of cold wind hit his face. The snow was deep, and grumbling, he pushed a path to the main road with his magic. It didn't bother him that the snow he cleared from his walkway was now blocking the main road.

He set off towards the center of Canterlot. A coffee shop had recently re-opened nearby. The few times he gone past, he could see young mares socializing and writers with greater opinions of themselves milling about, trying to appear more cultured than they really were.

In fact, a lot more ponies were there than what he viewed as the scum of society. A group of carolers bundled in thick winter clothing were waiting in line, and several families and couples were sat around tables. The cold weather was a good incentive for warm drinks.

It didn't take long for Andante to reach the front of the line. A small problem hit him; he didn't know a single thing about coffee.

"Hello, what would you like, sir?" The attendant asked.

His eyes scanned the menu on the counter. He picked a random option. "An espresso please...T."

"One tall espresso. Would you like anything else?"

Tall? Tall?! What did tall mean? Andante rubbed his face. "I uh, want the small please."

"One short espresso?" She offered.

Andante blinked. "A short small?"

"Uuuh..." The mare blinked. "Do you...want it hot or iced?"

"Hot, please." Andante said quickly. So there's how they get business during the summer.

"The hot comes in sizes, solo and doppio." The mare began reaching for the cups. "Which will it be?"

What the hay is a doppio?! This is a cup of coffee, why is it so complicated?! Andante stared at her with his mouth slightly open. He suddenly had an idea. "Can I just have the coffee of the day?"

"The coffee of the day is an espresso, sir."

Andante felt like he had been shot by a crossbow.

"So uh, solo or doppio?"

"Just...just make anything." Andante gave up. After taking a number marker, he left the counter and found a place to sit down.

The collar shifted inside his coat. He concentrated some magical energy into the object and directed it at the barista. To see if it worked, he would have the pony make him a cup of tea exactly the way he wanted it. The mare was rushing back and fourth, going through all the counters.

There's no tea, master. A voice suddenly said in his mind. Andante jumped a little from suprise, but nopony noticed.

What? This is a cafe! He responded.

This is a coffee shop. There's no tea. She was looking right at him.

Andante felt like crying. Fine, get yourself fired. He stood up and left, not even bothering to replace his table number card. Before he even gone a block, the mare was thrown out of the shop.





The successful test of the collar was wonderful news. He planned several meetings for the afternoon, but first on his list was Prince Blueblood.

He had been booked behind a banker. Blueblood came out of his office to welcome the stallion.

"...Well don't you read the Financial Times?" The Prince asked mid-conversation, gesturing at the newspaper tucked under Overdraft's leg.

The gentlecolt shook his head. "Never do."

"You're a banker." Blueblood frowned. "Surely you read it."

Overdraft shrugged. "I can't understand it. It's filled with economic theory."

"Why do you subscribe to it then, sir?" Blueblood's blood drained from his face.

"Oh, part of the uniform and all that." Overdraft chuckled. "Took me about three decades to wrap my head around Cane's theories. Then ponies got hooked on Capital ideals. Demand and...provisions, I think? 'I Want to be Free,' by Silver Freepony."

"You mean Silver Stocks?" Blueblood corrected.

Overdraft nodded. "They're all called Silver, aren't they? Anyways I'll be having a chat with Silver Shores later."

"Sapphire Shores?"

"I'm sure there's a Silver Shores." The banker frowned.

"Well yes there is bu...but..." Blueblood half-heartedly pointed off to the side. "Come into my office, please."

Andante raised an eyebrow at this. He overheard them discussing issues with building a new skyscraper office in Manehattan, but his thoughts lingered on the collar tucked in his jacket. If it failed, things would get awkward quickly.

Blueblood was concluding his suprisingly short meeting with the banker. "Before you go, my good sir, I'd like to remind you of something. There's an implicit pact offered to every Princess offered by her senior officials. If the Princess will help us impliment the opposite policy to the one she's pedged to, where once she comes to power, will see is clearly wrong, we will help her pretend that she is doing what she said she would do in her manifesto."

"Very well, Prince." Overdraft nodded and patted Blueblood's shoulder. "I'll be seeing you in a month."

"Now, Andante." Blueblood raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, looking for art subsidy again." Andante got up. "Oh, I won't be here for long."

"Another trip to the Royal Opera House after this?" Blueblood chuckled. "May I take your coat?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, and it's fine." Andante held up a hoof. "You'll see in these records that I took a trip to the Far East on a culture gathering expedition. I belive we could propel our own cultural development by borrowing from others." He began to concentrate on his collar.

"That's quite interesting, quite interesting indeed." Blueblood rubbed his chin. "How much would you like?"

"Oh, half a million bits?" Andante purposely threw out an exorbitant amount.

Blueblood went into his office. "The funds should be transferred to your account within a few minutes, Andante."

"Thank you." Andante smiled and practically glided out of the office. He made a beeline for the Royal Opera House, only stopping by the National Bank to withdraw the bits.

A group of old ponies was waiting for him in one of the performance halls, sitting on the stage in a tight circle. Andante greeted them with a tight lipped smile. "Sorry for being late."

"It's alright." A stallion wearing a powdered wig waved at him dismissively. "We're just planning the Galloping Gala right now. Turca and Seville are here to help us select musical pieces."

Andante knew these two stallions well. They were two of the most renowned music critics in Canterlot, and the main reason he was there. A quick thought to his collar, and his job was done. He stayed, though, party to not raise suspicion and partly to see about the Gala.

"Some of you may have heard about my trip." Andante jumped in. "I know the deadline is tight, but I have no doubt that I could scrap something new together."

The wig pony spoke up. "We already have music selected, why would we need new pieces?"

"It's Princess Twilight's first year hosting the Gala. Gentlecolts, you need to stop thinking so small." Andante pressed the play button on an old cassette player, starting the Ursa Major Concerto. "We have the chance to do something big."

"What are you thinking?" Turca tapped his quill.

Andante smiled. "We start with something new. Once Twilight sees how wonderful music is, she'll have to increase our subsidy. And if not, the nobles and ministers at the party will hear the music and lobby for more. A new monarch means a new administration."

"You're still trying to push the whole subsidy thing?" Seville groaned. "I doubt Sir Blueblood could tell the difference between the song you're playing right now from Hoofel's 8th Concerto."

Andante frowned. "What? It gives us more wiggle room, financially."

"Andante, if we need more funding, we shall go ask for a loan from Sir Overdraft." The wig pony shut down the conversation.

The group of ponies had a good chuckle at Andante's expense.

"Though," Turca tapped his quill again. "I wouldn't mind seeing what options you have."

Andante pulled out some sheet music. "This is a sample, I'm far from finishing it."

"I see. Well, if you don't come up with anything, we'll have backups ready." Turca neatly returned the small packet. "Seville and I shall be picking musicians next week, we expect you to be ready by then."

"Of course." Andante bowed out. He decided to loiter a bit in the great halls of the building, looking up at the oil paintings on the ceiling. His livelihood was tied to that filly, and now, more than ever, he needed her.

"Celestia may have won the last battle, but I will win..." Andante cackled. "The next battle!"