It was another day in Klugetown, and, once more, Capper found himself stuck in his office. After the events of yesterday, he had slept the rest of it away before being “treated” to a surprise gathering in his home. And by surprise, he meant expected, as he had remembered too late that they were due for a discussion about the town initiatives for the upcoming term.
Those initiatives, of course, would never get finished with half of the discussed budgets to be squirreled away in various pockets.
Boredom was already tugging at the fringes of his consciousness as he stood within his overdone office. The room looked like what someone who had never actually been in a political office thought a political office looked like, all high-class furnishings with not a speck of personality between them. It wasn’t completely Capper’s fault, as he had only a few choices to choose from, and beige had somehow been the most colourful of them.
The other Aristocats gathered in tight pockets around the room, all Abyssinian, as they were the only ones that the Equestrians deemed “proper.” They were all dressed nearly identically, a suit to match the fake face they all had plastered over their true feelings.
They were at the social part of the meeting, mingling in the aftermath of the budget discussions. Three such members stood near Capper, carryovers from an era that had been gone for a number of years.
Vintage was on his left, a pen replacing his usual knife as he pointed out particularly poignant parts of the present meeting notes. Places he had merrily written down as the designated record keeper, eager to ink the lies everyone had proposed and schemed over.
Tilt was to his right. An enthusiastic fellow that had changed his obsession with binding his victims with straps to doing so metaphorically with his proposals in over taxation. Capper noticed the gleam in his eyes that he only had when a poor sap was bound to a chair before him, a sadistic glint that enjoyed the whole affair a little too much by envisioning the tightening that happened around the everyday citizen’s neck from his policies.
Opposite Capper was Velvet, the last cat with the old Klugetown spark. The gray around her face did nothing but accentuate her keen intelligence, a physical indicator of her cunning wit and sharper tongue. She enunciated every syllable carefully, smooth as the lightest touch of a lover before they stabbed their significant other in the back.
His companions laughed jovially around him, louder than the cacophony of meaningless drivel in the background.
“So, what do you think, Capper?” Vintage asked, “was the proposal for the new park good, or was it fantastic?”
The proposal was another meaningless pretty thing to build in town without addressing any of the real issues that continued to grow underneath their feet, quickly becoming an insurmountable gaping maw that would eventually devour them.
“It is, as always, a wonderful investment into the future of Klugetown,” Capper lied in a dull, tired monotone.
“I am looking forward to erecting the proposed statues,” Tilt snickered as he fiddled with a coin in his paw. “I’m sure the ponies will appreciate the subject we chose to feature there.”
The ponies. Not the Abyssinians or any other denizen of Klugetown. The ponies.
“A stroke of genius to have an Abyssinian stand next to our Princess alongside the other races,” Vintage added.
Alongside a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony. The pony races, and, more importantly, the Abyssinian was situated below them. Capper had genuinely been impressed with how they managed to angle it in such a way to make the genetically taller race look smaller.
“It will look beautiful once it's finished. A marvelous centerpiece for the market square.” Tilt grinned, the corners seeming sharper than usual.
“Will it, though?”
As one, Capper, Tilt, and Vintage turned to Velvet as she stared directly into the bored expression of Capper, a mischievous glint in her eye and a coy smile on her lips.
“What do you mean, Vel?” Vintage asked.
She frowned in distaste at the nickname she never agreed to. “Are we so certain this was the best use of funds? Adding some more pretty statues to the town doesn’t seem like the right thing to be spending our budget on. Perhaps our leader has a suggestion for something better?”
Annoyance flashed through Capper’s mind. She was clearly looking to play some sort of verbal game with him. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t feel like playing that day.
“Using the funds to improve goodwill between us and the ponies is always worth the expenditure.” Capper reflexively clenched his paw around the non-existent wine glass he wished he had in his paw. He instead settled for burying his claws in his palm. “Besides, it's a good selling point for potential new pony neighbours.”
“The rich ones,” Velvet stated.
“Yes,” Capper replied, already knowing the end goal of the conversation.
“Buying up all the old neighbourhoods?” Velvet continued, tilting her head to one side as a predator sizes up a snack.
“Indeed.”
“And remodeling them into expensive new homes designed specifically for other ponies?” Velvet rubbed a claw alongside the bottom of her chin, her eyes belying her mischievous intentions.
“That is correct,” Capper agreed. “The neighbourhood is getting a rather massive overhaul from the influx of purchases.”
“Probably to be used as vacation homes,” Vintage cheerily interjected, a claw raised to bring attention to himself. “I heard from Fancy that ponies love the sunny weather.”
“And to get away from the crowds,” Tilt added. “Many of them express how much they love the quietness of Klugetown.”
“They’re going to sell them,” Velvet bluntly stated in a tone that brokered no argument, “to the highest bidder.”
Capper crushed his claw tighter, drawing pinpricks of blood in his palm. This wasn’t a conversation he had wanted to have. The other two stared at Velvet in confusion, then looked to him for guidance. It was no surprise they didn’t understand. Vintage and Tilt had only ever been hired muscle before all of this.
Velvet and Capper, however, had been involved with much more.
“I wouldn’t put intentions to those you know nothing about,” Capper replied, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“Yes, it’s a little…” Vintage trailed off, waving a paw in a circular motion.
“Cutthroat,” Tilt finished, that same sharp smile on his face.
“Overdramatic but sufficient,” Vintage said, wincing.
“I’m simply voicing my thoughts aloud,” Velvet said, a playful drawl to her voice.
“Really?” Vintage asked, furrowing his brow. “It sounded more like a statement. Like you knew exactly what was happening.”
“And none of you do?” Velvet smirked directly at Capper. “Surely, one of you has heard a direct answer from our pony friends on their intentions?” Silence answered for all of them. “Well, then I suppose we had better move on.” She smiled in satisfaction. “How are the sales?”
“Oh, wonderfully!” Vintage enthused, his chipper attitude immediately returning. “We’re making great headway, breaking into the Minos market.”
“And my company is spreading further into Griffonstone,” Tilt added, “making record profits that we haven’t seen since the good days.”
“Delightful!” Velvet exclaimed, clapping her paws lightly together. “And what about you, Capper? How are your profit margins?”
“None in the field that any of you work in,” Capper replied.
“Have low inventory?” Vintage asked.
“I could give you some of my lesser stock if you need them,” Tilt added.
Capper waved a hand dismissively towards Tilt. “No, it's nothing like that. I’m just not in the business.”
His three companions looked between themselves for a moment. Velvet spoke for them. “I suppose, you wouldn’t mind letting us know if you’ve been in contact with anyone about our business?”
The room turned as one to stare at Capper, each with a beady-eyed expression that was eager to hear Capper’s response. Though, unlike before, it wasn’t out of deference, but rather as a threat.
“No, I haven’t,” Capper answered to the ravenous crowd.
“And how may we ascertain you haven’t?” Vintage asked. “You are regularly in contact with the crown.”
“I have told nothing to the royals, nor do I plan to,” Capper replied.
“But how can we know?” Tilt said, a glint in his eyes promising violence should Capper’s answer not be to his satisfaction.
“All my correspondence with the palace is in the desk just over there.” Capper indicated the noted area with a lazy wave of his paw. “I keep copies and time stamps of everything. So, if you’re worried about it, feel free to peruse at your leisure.”
A tense silence followed before breaking back into its normal background babbling. Vintage, Velvet, and Tilt were back to smiling again, chuckling lightly at Capper’s expense.
“No need for that Capper. We were just scratching your fur,” Velvet said. “Just remember to keep this between us.”
“Wouldn’t dream of telling anyone,” Capper replied. A true statement as he pointedly ensured no nosy Princess could unbury that particular piece of information.
After his final affirmation, the conversation carried on without him, he himself withdrawing his attention. He surveyed the room, not really feeling present, taking in all the occupants and various conversations flowing freely through the space. Everything was all vapid meaningless sentences, strung together with no purpose in mind for what was said.
It was all so—
“A letter for you, Sir.”
Capper snapped out of his internal musings and faced the Diamond Dog standing before him. The Dog in question held out a simple envelope stamped with a familiar red seal of a six-pointed star.
“Important message from the Princess,” the Diamond Dog continued.
All eyes were on him as he took the letter, ripped open the envelope, and unfolded the parchment tucked inside.
“Will you not read it in private, Sir?”
“Nothing written here that can’t be shared with the rest.” Capper waved a paw towards the door. “You may leave. Your duty is done.”
The Diamond Dog nodded before making their way out, purposefully not making eye contact with anyone on their way out.
Refocusing his attention on the letter in hand, Capper quickly scanned through the neatly worded script. A scowl appeared, then deepened with every new word he read.
Dear Capper,
It has come to my attention through visitors to Klugetown that you have not been performing your duties adequately as head Aristocat. Fancy has sent me a letter recently stating that you were absent for the majority of his party, which lines up with previous reports from other delegates.
You must be present at these gatherings, as they are key to developing relations between Klugetown and Equestria.
I hate to say this, but you have been acting foalishly ever since you obtained your position. Though harsh, on feedback from Princess Luna, I would say this to you:
Grow up. Perform your duties.
Princess Twilight
A tremor reverberated through his body in barely contained rage. His thoughts were a swirl of negative emotions and responses to the Princess’s claims, ranging from blatant insults to simply clocking her in the face.
He needed to grow up?
Him?
Trudging towards his office desk, barely keeping himself from stomping his feet on the way there, he placed the letter neatly on the table, tucking it back into its envelope. Afterwards, he continued his trek to a tucked-away cabinet in a corner of his office. Opening the door, he grabbed a bottle of champagne and popped the cork using his claw.
He tipped the champagne back, emptying the entire bottle, foam dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Once finished, he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, staining the material. He addressed the wide-eyed stares of his assembled guests.
“We are done for today,” Capper announced.
“Don’t we have—” one of the guests tried to interject.
“Leave,” Capper hissed.
With wary looks on their faces, they filtered out of the office one by one. The last was Velvet, who turned to look back at Capper with a distrustful gaze.
“It’s not in relation to anything we discussed,” Capper answered the unspoken question.
Seemingly satisfied by his response, Velvet closed the doors softly shut behind her.
Once more alone, Capper procured a second bottle from the same cabinet and downed a third of it in one go. He walked over to a nearby window and stared out at the square, watching the other Aristocats file out of the house. He glared down at them, his mood at an all-time low.
The words just wouldn’t stop swirling in his head.
Grow up.
It was infuriating.
Grow up.
From a new upstart Princess that didn’t understand how anything worked.
He thought back to the day he had sold out everyone he knew. How he had been told to take the deal. That she was on the way and if he didn’t accept it, he would be joining the rest.
His gaze drifted over to a nearby bookshelf, a bag of assorted golf clubs leaning against the wood. He smiled.
Capper knew exactly how to show how much he’d grown.