//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Idol Daydreams 
// by Caffeinated Pinkie 
//------------------------------//

Wind shrieked through the streets of Canterlot, carrying with it a blanket of snow. Visibility was cut to mere meters and a terrible biting cold whipped against anypony unfortunate or foalish enough to be caught outside. It would have looked no more than a dead city, if it weren’t for the sparkling lights filling the night sky and emanating from every window and door. It was a brilliant spectacle from above, if anypony were high-up enough to see it.

By the wall of the great city was an unassuming house. A house that was properly infested by bugs. Big pony-shaped ones. Every door, window, and crack in the house was stuffed tight with blankets and pillows. Idol and Thorax were platonically cuddling atop a worn red couch, wearing heavy matching scarves and holding steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Directly before them roared a fireplace, staving off the cold. Shining sat to their right in a newer forelegchair of the same color, a cup of iced tea next to him.

“Well, we’re not heretics, we just have a different view on matters of religion and leadership,” Thorax replied.

Idol sat up straight, puffing out his chest. “I vote we gift-wrap Shining Armor and present him as a peace offering to the Queen,” he said imperiously. He raised an empty foreleg in the air, taking a sip from his mug with the other. Thorax did the same.

Shining glared at Idol while taking a long sip. “A few problems with that,” he began and put down his cup. “One: ponies don’t vote. Two: changelings don’t vote. And three: we’re not doing that.” For each point, he mimed counting on his hoof.

Thorax perked up from his slight sulking. “Actually, the changelings are attempting to institute a true democratic—”

“See?” Idol interrupted and pointed at the other guard. “Shining, I can have an angry mob here in two minutes. Three at most.” Shining scoffed and raised his nose into the air. He continued, “I have a petition asking Princess Celestia to ban the cold. It has five thousand unique signatures.” He began rummaging through a saddlebag leaning against the couch.

“And how many of them are from real ponies?” Shining asked, rolling his eyes.

Idol paused and looked up. “A pony hoof signed each line.”

“A real pony’s hoof or a shapeshifted one?”

Idol glared at his friend and responded, “How dare you be so accurate?”