I am not Darth Faust, and I don't own My Little Pony. I am also definitely not Rowan Atkinson, and I don't own his Blackadder Christmas special, which this silly fic shamelessly borrows from, which in turn borrows from Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." Cover art is also not mine, since that belongs to SouthParkTaoist on DeviantArt.
Boy, I don't own a lot of things. How impoverished I am!
Hope you enjoy the first chapter of this silly story. Now, I better finish the next two before the 25th!
Chapter One: The Kind and Generous Trixie
“Isn’t it exciting, Luna?” Princess Celestia asked giddily. “We’re going to celebrate our first Hearth’s Warming Eve together since your long holiday.”
Princess Luna rolled her eyes (a strange body language expression she learned recently) at her sister’s choice of euphemism. “Verily, our enthusiasm is boundless. Pray tell, what activities shall we partake this merriest of nights?”
Celestia’s horn glowed, and she removed her tiara and collar with her magic. “You’ll join me in a little tradition I started a few hundred years ago. We’ll disguise ourselves as commoners and give gifts and honors to the virtuous. It’ll be fun.”
Luna thought for a moment, and she too removed her royal attire. “Very well. We shall join you, dear Sister. Have you in mind candidates of purity and merit to reward with our blessings?”
“Oh, I know of a very special pony…” Celestia slipped into her disguise.
At the end of snowy Lilac Lane, in humble Ponyville, was the magic shop of an azure unicorn named Trixie, the kindest and most generous pony in all of Equestria. Most ponies would be in their homes the wintry night of Hearth’s Warming Eve, but Trixie stood dutifully behind her counter. She occupied herself with charming more bottles of her famous magical mess remover as she waited for customers.
The bell tingled, and through the door entered two unicorn colts. “Hello Snips, Snails,” Trixie greeted her two young assistants. “Did you get the ingredients?”
“Yep,” affirmed the short, chubby one. He levitated a bucket over and behind the counter. “I got the uh… purple plants.”
“And I got the Helix pomatia, just like you asked,” said the lanky one slowly and absently. He too deposited his bucket of findings.
“Good, good. Just another hour before we close the store and then we can have own little Hearth’s Warming Eve celebration.” Trixie smiled at her two assistants who shared her home. They were like family to her, and in fact, they technically were. Trixie had taken them in ever since that tragic accident last year with the squirrels, a steamroller, and two tons of marbles. “Now, Trixie has gotten the presents.”
“And we made the cards!” Snips announced with pride. “I did the drawing.”
Snails magicked a card out of satchel and gave it to his employer. “And I wrote it. Took me all morning.”
Trixie opened the card. It was inexpertly decorated, but she knew it was a labor of love. “‘Have a happy Hearth’s Warming,’” she read. “Um, Snails? ‘Hearth’s Warming’ has an apostrophe.”
“Aw.”
“And an ‘H’… and an ‘E’… an ‘A’, an ‘R’, a ‘T’, another ‘H’, an ‘S’…” Trixie looked at the card again, and decided to stop there. Snails had somehow done the impossible and managed to write ‘Hearth’s Warming’ without getting any of the letters right at all. “Still, Trixie knows you worked really hard on it, and that is what matters.”
Snails stared off into space, as he was wont to do. “Thanks, Trixie.”
“Hey, what about a tree?” Snips said suddenly. “We can’t have a Hearth’s Warming without the tree!”
“Never fear, boys. Trixie has that covered,” Trixie assured. She opened a cupboard and levitated out a fir branch. “Trixie got this special discount Hearth’s Warming twig.”
“That doesn’t look like a tree, eh?” Snails observed keenly.
“Well yes, it is a bit small,” Trixie conceded. “But it is not the size that matters. It’s where you put it.” She inserted the branch into a candleholder and proudly set it on the shop counter. “Besides, with the money we saved, we have a whole year’s profits to spend on fun at tomorrow’s festival.”
Snips bounced excitedly. “Ooh! Ooh! How much?”
“Seventeen bits,” Trixie answered proudly.
Snails frowned. “We’d have more if you didn’t give away so much money to charities.”
Trixie sighed. “Yes, that is true. But in the measure of cheer and compassion, we are rich indeed.”
The bell chimed, and in stumbled a plum earth pony mare. “Hello Berry Punch,” greeted Trixie. “How might Trixie help you on this fine Hearth's Warming Eve?”
“Oh, it’s *hic* horrid!” the inebriated mare hiccupped. “I don’t have *hic* two bits to rub together. I’m broke! And I can’t afford *hic* to buy any food for me or my little Berry Pinch. The kind and generous Trixie must *hic* help me!” She put particular emphasis on the title the residents of Ponyville liked to call her.
“But what about the prize money you won at last month’s All Equestria Absinth Chugging Tournament?”
“New liver,” Punch hiccupped. She took a breath mint from her saddlebag and popped it into her mouth.
“Well, there must be something Trixie can do to help you…?” She spied the breath mints. “Ah! Those mints might be just what Trixie needs. How much did they cost you?”
“One *hic* bit each.”
Trixie did her best to be diplomatic. “Miss Punch, Trixie suspects that to be a… slight exaggeration.”
Berry Punch started wailing uncontrollably.
“Well, it is Hearth’s Warming Eve, so have ten bits,” Trixie conceded.
The plum pony went from distraught to indignant in an instant. “So you don’t *hic* want all them, then? There’s seventeen of them!”
“Miss Punch, you have the frail body of an alcohol-wreaked mare, but the mind of a criminal genius. Here, take seventeen bits.” Trixie exchanged her money for the mints, and Berry Punch quickly left without saying another word. “What a jolly mare.”
Snips sadly watched the earth pony mare disappear down the street through the window. “She looks like a drunken idiot to me.”
“Now, now, Snips. You shouldn’t judge other ponies by their recreational activities. Why, just remove the alcohol from that ‘drunken idiot’ and you have a–”
“Sober idiot?” Snails supplied, looking hopeful.
“Erm…” Trixie was spared having to answer by the doorbell. The door swung upon, and two very tall and imposing unicorn mares entered. The larger of the two’s coat was pure white and somehow seemed to glow, and her multicolored cyan, turquoise, azure, and purple mane and tail rippled in a phantom breeze. The slightly smaller mare’s dark coat had the opposite effect of her companion’s by making everything around her dimmer, and her flowing mane was an almost immaterial star field. Both tall unicorns wore monocles, black silk top hats, and suits that bulged strangely behind the shoulders. Snips and Snails gazed at the strangers in awe.
“Good evening,” Trixie greeted the strangely familiar newcomers. “May Trixie help you?”
“Good evening,” the white mare said sweetly. “We have come here on a mission to reward the virtuous this Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
“Oh Celestia,” Trixie said, slightly overwhelmed.
The dark unicorn projected an audio tsunami. “AND WE HAVE GLEANED GREAT TALES OF THY KINDNESS AND GENEROSITY!”
Trixie twitched her ears to make sure they were still working, and blushed. “Oh, one tries…”
“So please…”
“Yes?”
“Could you be a dear and give us ten bits for the virtuous old mare at Sweet Apple Acres?” the white unicorn concluded.
“Ah,” Trixie said, hiding her disappointment. “Well, Trixie would love to oblige, but she no longer has any money to give.”
“THEN PERHAPS THOU CANST BESTOW UNTO US WARM ATTIRE, SO THAT WE MAY NO LONGER BE ASSAILED OUTSIDE BY THE INCLEMENT WEATHER THAT RAPS THE WINDOWS AS WE SPEAK!” the dark unicorn suggested.
“Oh… well, you are in luck. Snips, Snails, please retrieve the two red packages from the back room.” Trixie’s two assistants glumly departed through the back door.
“Some wood for our fireplace would also be greatly appreciated,” said the tall, white unicorn. Trixie sighed and levitated her Hearth’s Warming twig out of the candleholder and gave it to the two strangers. They stood in silence…
Trixie attempted some conversation. To the dark unicorn, she asked, “Your manner of speech is quite intriguing. Say, are you… foreign?”
“NAY!” the mare replied after a slight pause. “WE ARE AN EQUESTRIAN SUBJECT, AS THOU ART! WE ARE BUT A HUMBLE ACTRESS AT THE GLOBE THEATER, WHERE WE NOW RECOUNT THE ANCIENT TRAGEDY OF THE LUNAR PRINCESS’ SEDITION!”
“Ah, Trixie understands. Your costume is commendable.”
Snips and Snails returned with the red presents, and Trixie levitated them behind the counter where the strangers couldn’t see. Wincing as if in physical pain, she removed the wrapping paper and the cards she had written, and surrendered the two scarves within to the two tall unicorn mares.
“Oh, they’re lovely,” the white pony said after she tried on the scarf that would have been Snail’s. “Thank you so much.”
“WE ARE MOST PLEASED BY THY OFFERING! THY KINDNESS AND GENEROSITY WOULD BE REPAID, WERE WE NOT A PAUPERIZED ENTERTAINER! WE THANK THEE!” The two imposing unicorn mares curtsied, and left the shop.
Snips scratched the floor with his hoof, eyes downcast. “So… were those our presents, Trixie?”
Trixie sighed. “Yes, yes they were. Trixie is sorry,” she answered sadly. “But those ponies were in need and… Trixie will make it up for you. That she promises.”
“There’s still Celestia,” Snails said brightly. “Since we’ve been so good, maybe she’ll come down our chim-in-ey and leave presents in our stockings tonight, eh?”
Trixie managed a weak smile. “Of course. Well, let’s not keep her waiting. I say it’s time for bed…”
The three unicorns closed down the shop and retired to their rooms in the back. Trixie went to bed hoping Hearth’s Warming Day would turn out better than its Eve.
High up in the sky outside, a blue police box materialized directly over Trixie’s home. Gravity, determined to prevent any more laws of physics from being broken, promptly let the box fall…