//------------------------------//
// Intermission Six: Trixie the Powerful. 
// Story: No One For the Gallows But Me 
// by Coyote de La Mancha 
//------------------------------//

Juniper Montage made a sour face. “If I'd known you wanted to know about that stupid mirror, I'd never have agreed to meet.”
Trixie cocked her head as she sat down across the table from her, food-laden tray in hand. “Trixie never mentioned a mirror.”
“You didn't have to. You're dressed like the magician's apprentice from Fantasia. What else would you be looking for?”
As it happened, Trixie could think of quite a few things she might have been seeking, or had sought, at different times in her life. Not to mention a variety of differences between herself and the cartoon mouse with his magic brooms. But that was neither here nor there.
“Anyway, it doesn't matter,” Juniper shrugged. “It's broken to bits and thrown away. And good riddance.”
“Trixie doesn't want the mirror,” Trixie assured her. “The Great and Powerful Trixie only has a few questions. And besides, Trixie is buying lunch, is she not?”
“Sure, at the food court,” Juniper scoffed.
Trixie spared the bustling noontime crowd around them a glance, then turned back to Juniper, picking up a slice of her pizza as she did.
“You wanted to do this during your lunch break,” Trixie pointed out. “On your day off, we could have gone anywhere.”
“Well, I'm not going to have a day off for-- you know what, skip it,” Juniper cut herself off. Picking up a chicken nugget, she dipped it sullenly into her sweet'n'sour sauce and started munching.
For a few minutes, they ate in silence.
“So, what do you want to know?” Juniper asked at last.
“Where and when did you get the mirror?”
Juniper made a sour face.
“It was just a little after the movie shoot. And no,” she cut off Trixie's already open mouth, “I'm not going to talk about that. I've had better times. Let's leave it at that.  
“Anyway, after a while, I remembered some of the rumors I'd heard as a kid. I kept thinking about them, over and over again in my mind. Finally, one day I'd had enough. My dad constantly giving me his Look,  my stupid job at his theater, everything. I just got in my car and drove. It took a while, but I finally found where he was supposed to be. And sure enough, there he was.”
Trixie took out a folded piece of paper and slid it to her.
“Was this him?” she asked.
Juniper unfolded the photocopy, glanced at it, and handed it back while nodding and drinking her milkshake.
“That was him,” she said. “The place looked like Stephen King's props department, but it was his name on the door.”
“How did you get the mirror?”
“I bought it. Well, traded for it would be more accurate. He didn't even have a card reader. Who doesn't have a card reader?” she demanded, rolling her eyes.
“What did you trade?” Trixie pressed, determined to keep the conversation on-topic. “Did you promise him anything?”
“No, that was the weird part,” Juniper said. “It didn't have a set price. Nothing there did. He just wanted what was on me at the time. A ten and a one, and an old ticket stub.”
Trixie cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
Juniper nodded, taking another swig of milkshake.
“My aunt had gone to an I Blow Minds for a Living spoken word concert, when I was little. She'd gotten her stub autographed for me. She died a little while later, and I kept the stub until...”
Juniper swallowed, and looked down.
“The ticket was the clincher. The guy said that if I threw that in, we had a deal. He promised that I'd get back the opportunities I'd lost – adoring crowds, photo shoots, fame, everything – plus get my revenge, if I really wanted it. And, I said yes.
“But when I got the mirror home, all it did was look cheap. I tried to find the guy's shop again, but I never could. It was like it had just vanished. After a while I almost forgot about the stupid mirror and what it had cost me. It just stayed in my purse. I guess I just couldn't be bothered to take it out. I didn't want to think about it, so I didn't.”
She sighed. “I didn't even notice when I accidentally left it at the sunglasses kiosk. I forgot it for weeks, until... well, you probably know the rest. Everybody else seems to,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
For a few seconds, there was only the sound of the lunchtime crowd around them. Then, Juniper shook her head, adding, “None of it was how I'd wanted it to be. And none of it was worth it. None of it.”
“Where is his shop?” Trixie asked.
But Juniper shook her head.
“No. No way. I'm not helping you mess up your life the way I messed up mine.”
“Trixie is not looking to make a purchase.”
Juniper gave her a skeptical look.
“Promise.”
The other girl looked Trixie up and down, and then shook her head and began to rise.
“Thanks for lunch,” she said.
Trixie held up a hand, palm out, in a placating gesture. Then, she closed her hand and opened it again in a fluid motion. Now, there was a card between her index and middle fingers.
“This is the number for Vignette Valencia, the PR manager for Equestria Land Amusement Park,” she smiled. “Vignette is looking for models, and she was very interested when the Connected and Generous Trixie told her about your portfolio.”
Juniper frowned, still half-standing. “I... don't have a portfolio. I've never modeled in my life.”
Still smiling, Trixie again closed her hand. When she opened it again, she held two cards.
“The second number is for Trixie's friend, Photo Finish,” she said. “Photo has agreed to help you create your portfolio.”
Juniper stared.
“Many actresses began as models,” Trixie pointed out. “Trixie does not give you hollow promises. Only a foot in the door. But, it is a foot in the door. And Trixie will make all the arrangements. All that matters is if you are interested.”
“And if I tell you where he is.”
Trixie sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Trixie suspects that her friend, Sunset Shimmer, may be rubbing off on her.” she said. “Not to mention Fluttershy. And yes, there was a time when that would have been exactly the bargain Trixie would offer. But today, Trixie is giving these numbers freely.”  
Trixie passed the cards over. Juniper eyed the cards suspiciously, then Trixie.
“Just like that, huh?” she said.
“Just like that,” Trixie shrugged. “Of course, Trixie admits that she hopes you will return the favor with an address. But the numbers, and the opportunity they offer, are yours regardless.”
Juniper considered the cards she held carefully, leaning her elbow on the table as she did.
“You know what? Fine,” she decided, slipping the cards into her purse. “You know where the old Canterlot South Mall is?”
“Trixie has an idea,” Trixie said, her eyes narrowing in anticipation. “Do go on.”