//------------------------------// // Chapter 10 - Flashbulbs And Front Pages // Story: Bug In The City // by PointlessGizmo //------------------------------// The next morning, Canterlot's streets were as busy as ever, with the various members of Equestria's upper classes hustling and bustling around the city, going about their usual daily business. Amid the sea of ponies, many clothed in the very finest quality garments at the cutting edge of fashion, a solitary figure darted through the crowds wearing nothing but a simple black cloak and hood. Its form entirely obscured, save for four ultramarine hooves at the bottom, it weaved and ducked down Canterlot's main street as though it were trying not to be seen. Peering from beneath the hood, Trixie was careful not to allow anypony else to lock eyes with her, lest her distinctive iris color give away her true identity. Fame had brought with it certain side effects that Trixie had neither wanted nor anticipated, not least a seeming inability to exit her home without attracting a heaving mob of fans asking for autographs or a magic demonstration. Three times she'd attempted to set off for Photo Finish's studio, and three times she'd been forced to retreat back into the apartment complex, hotly pursued by a throng of screaming fans. Only when she'd dyed one of her bedsheets black using her magic and then fashioned it into an all-concealing hood and cloak get-up had she been able to take to the streets unhindered. "Now Trixie is running late for her photo shoot!" she thought sulkily. "I hope Photo Finish isn't too cross with me! I hear she's NOT a good pony to get on the bad side of!" Shaking this dreadful thought from her mind, Trixie continued to somewhat shiftily make her way past the packed bistros and busy stores, frequently stopping to take cover behind conveniently placed fences or benches. During these covert stops, she flicked back the hood to allow some of the accumulated heat to dissipate. It was far too hot a day for wearing a full-body hood, and Trixie's nervousness at being discovered only served to increase her body temperature further. Stealthily crouching down behind a small wall surrounding an al fresco diner's garden, Trixie jerked her head back and allowed the head covering to slip down and rest upon her withers. She wiped her brow using the front of the cloak wrapped around a shaky forehoof, as the nervous tingles that permeated her entire body became more intense the further into the city she delved. If she were to be discovered here, she'd be swamped for the rest of the day - there were simply far too many ponies here for her to handle at once. "Come on Trixie, focus! The studio's just one block away, and if you hurry you won't be that late!" she told herself, raising her hood once more using her magic. Her identity safely concealed beneath the dark cloth once again, Trixie rose from her hiding place and strode quickly yet cautiously toward her intended destination. ---------- At the Canterlot Chronicle offices, Leech stood next to Snap Happy's desk. He watched intently as his pegasus employer deftly tapped away at his typewriter using nothing but his hooves. Leech had initially assumed that typewriters would require unicorn magic to type effectively, and was very surprised to witness the ease with which a sufficiently-practiced Earth or pegasus pony could operate one. Of course, typewriters intended for Earth ponies and pegasi were wider, with more sparsely-set keys, but the little changeling nevertheless found Snap's skill both impressive and quite mesmerizing. "There!" said Snap Happy proudly, finishing his typing. "Today's Chronicle headline story is all done! You did well to find it, Leech. A daring daylight raid in Canterlot's jewellery district... you got an excellent shot of the three culprits shortly before they were caught!" "Culpritzz?" buzzed Leech, looking confused. "Leech thought he wazz taking picture of zzsilly poniezz drezzed azz zzebrazz, not criminalzz!" "They were wearing masks and striped sweaters, Leech!" replied Snap Happy with a laugh. "I honestly didn't think crooks were stupid enough to wear those things anymore! Either way, accident or not, it was a great photograph. Well done!" Leech's chest puffed with pride at being congratulated. It was such an unfamiliar feeling to him, he eagerly savored it whenever it occurred. Studying the first draft of the evening edition's front cover, Leech noticed Fancy Pants among the crowd of shocked onlookers in the background of his photograph. With him, wearing an equally stunned expression, was his wife, Fleur. "Zzstrange!" muttered Leech thoughtfully, "Fanzzy pony izz with different lady pony than Leech zzsaw him with on Leech'zz firzzt day at work! Leech thought poniezz uzzually only had one companion!" Snap Happy glanced at the picture, then at Leech, before sighing heavily and reclining back into his seat, closing his eyes as he did so. "That's correct, Leech." he explained, wearily. "That pony is Fleur, Fancy Pants' wife. The pegasus you saw Fancy with the other day - I've no idea who she was, but Fancy was clearly cheating on his wife with her." Leech pondered hard - if a stethoscope had been held to his head at that point, the sound of rusted gears squeaking and rattling followed by the gentle tinkle of a five-watt light bulb flickering into illumination would have been heard. "Izz that why Zzsnap Happy wanted photo of Fanzzy pony with other lady pony?" he asked at last. "Yes. Yes it was." Snap Happy responded after an awkward pause, his head hanging as he answered. "Izzn't that a zzscandal like Tattle pony likezz to report on?" Leech enquired, curiously cocking his head as he looked towards Snap Happy. "Leech thought Zzsnap Happy didn't like zzscandalzz." "I don't!" Snap Happy replied sharply, his tone becoming increasingly defensive. "They're a crass invasion of ponies' privacy! And in the case of Tattle-Tale, they're usually a load of made-up horseapples! At least this one would have been based on truth." "Izzn't that zzstill..." Leech began. "Yes, it's still an invasion of privacy and it's still something I'd rather not publish. But... you must understand Leech, my return to this company hasn't been a smooth one. As you know, I've been away for an entire year. Everypony here thought I was dead, and in a sense I was, until you and Trixie rescued me and the others." Snap Happy interrupted, as he poured himself a fresh, steaming mug of coffee. ---------- Leech looked around the room and noted that the other journalists had finished their shifts and had left the office, leaving just him and Snap Happy alone. Satisfied that his employer - and friend - wasn't about to publicly demean himself, he resumed listening as Snap Happy continued his tale. "Before my capture and transformation at the hooves of Switcher, Tattle-Tale's gossip section was a minority interest. A small column tucked away in the back pages, where few read it and even fewer took heed. After my disappearance, the 'news' aspect of the paper took a nosedive in terms of quality and quantity. To help keep the publication afloat, the publishers turned to Tattle, giving him greater freedoms and more column inches, until eventually he had his own supplement. As his column grew, more and more ponies paid attention to it, and its popularity exploded. Now ponies across Equestria can't get enough of his sleaze and lies - gossip has always been prevalent in pony populations, Canterlot in particular, but Tattle's bile has kicked the whole thing up several notches." Snap Happy explained, followed by yet another heavy sigh and a mournful shake of his head. "But how doezz printing zzscandal help Zzsnap Happy?" asked Leech. "I just thought if I could print one decent scandal, something truthful, yet something that could best Tattle and his endless parade of half-truths and blatant lies, the focus would be back on the newspaper rather than the gossip supplement. With the spotlight once again on my side of the publication, I could then set about making the Chronicle all about news once again, and push Tattle's nonsense back into the minority interest, where it belongs." answered Snap Happy in a melancholy tone, opening a drawer in his desk and taking out his trusty bottle of DeGroot-brand rum. "But... I guess going down to Tattle's level will just make me as bad as him, truth or no truth. I guess I'll have to find another way of preventing the Chronicle turning into a vapid gossip magazine." As if by magic, Tattle-Tale stormed into the room, as though the mere mention of his name had summoned him. However, he had heard nothing of Snap and Leech's conversation, instead fuming to himself as he glared at a scroll he held in front of his eyes with his magic. "Wouldya believe it?" he announced, to nopony in particular. "Da publishers just sent me a copy a' dis new royal decree about standards a' journalism. Da overall jist a' it is, any stories 'bout other ponies hafta be based on 'substantial evidence' now! What kinda mooks came up wid dis loada nonsense?" "Most likely the Princesses, so I'd watch who you're calling 'mooks' if I were you, Tattle." Snap Happy answered, a hint of snarkiness present in his voice. Tattle-Tale looked shocked for a few seconds, before quickly shaking it off and giving Snap Happy a narrow-eyed glare. "Whatever. Da long an' short a' it is, I'm freakin' ruined if I can't substantiate my works a' genius!" Tattle-Tale snorted. His eyes turned to Leech, staying there for an uncomfortably long time before he suddenly turned on his hooves and bolted back to his office, leaving a bewildered Leech and Snap Happy behind. "That wazz... different." Leech said at last, finding his voice. "Well, Leech - looks as if my little problem just solved itself!" Snap Happy said brightly, putting the bottle of rum back into its drawer without opening it, and merrily guzzling his coffee. "Looks like my letter to the Wisdom brothers paid off! They must have raised the issue with the Princesses during one of their advisory meetings. I genuinely wasn't expecting anything to come of it - now it has, I reckon that's shut old Tattle down on a permanent basis!" Leech said nothing, instead silently contemplating the way in which Tattle-Tale had looked at him. Somehow, Leech wasn't entirely convinced that this new ruling would mean the end of Tattle-Tale's schemes. ---------- Meanwhile, Trixie's day wasn't going quite as well as she'd hoped. Sure, she'd reached Photo Finish's studio without attracting any undue attention, and Photo Finish herself hadn't been angry about her slight lateness. It had all gone downhill from there, however. From the moment she set hoof into the studio, she had been practically pounced upon by Photo Finish's ever-present army of stylists, designers and make-up artists. Sprays had been sprayed into her mane and combs had whipped it into many strange styles and permutations that Trixie didn't even think were possible. Make-up had been slathered onto her face, then removed, then re-added at Photo Finish's whim. The blusher was definitely Trixie's least favorite experience of all the cosmetics - the assistant who applied it was far too heavy-snouted with the brush. After the third or fourth application, Trixie began to feel as if she'd been beaten up, not partaken in a supposedly glamorous photoshoot! Her face and jaw ached from both the repeated make-up applications and the ridiculous facial expressions that Photo Finish demanded of her, including some frankly unnaturally wide smiles. Her limbs ached from being repeatedly dressed and undressed in various garish and uncomfortable outfits that no sane pony would actually consider wearing on a day-to-day basis. Worse yet, the shoot was overrunning, and Trixie wondered if she'd get home in time to prepare for Fancy Pants' arrival that evening. Her worrying session was interrupted by yet another blinding flash of the camera, a sight that Trixie was rapidly becoming tired of. As she rubbed at her increasingly sore eyes, the bold, brash, dominating voice of Photo Finish harshly invaded her ears once more. "Good, good!" Photo Finish said to Trixie. "Ve haf time for von more costume change! Zis vill be ze greatest of zem all! Somepony fetch me ze all-black ensemble zat she arrived in! Quickly!" she demanded. "Wait a mome-" Trixie began to protest, before being cut off by two of Photo Finish's assistants pulling the black hood and cloak over her head. "Yes!" Photo Finish said approvingly. "Now, it's really time to make... ze magicks!" "Great." thought Trixie despairingly. "An all-black cloak under baking hot studio lights... I'm definitely going to have to add a shower to my preparations for this evening. And now I'm going to need a new disguise - when these photos are published everypony's going to recognize me in my cloak!" Photo Finish was oblivious to Trixie's plight however, as she excitedly raced about the studio, rapidly photographing Trixie from every conceivable angle. After what felt to Trixie like an eternity, Photo Finish finally put the camera down and signaled to her assistants to begin packing the studio equipment away. "Ze magicks, ve haf made zem today my friend!" she gasped dramatically, throwing a hoof around Trixie's withers. "Ve must do zis again soon, ve vill go far together!" At that particular moment in time, Trixie definitely wanted to go far - as far from the studio as possible! Quickly bidding Photo Finish farewell, she hurriedly trotted towards the exit. Such was her rush to get back and get ready for the coming evening, she wasn't fully paying attention to what she was doing. As she exited the studio, the cool late afternoon air rapidly clearing her lungs of the hairspray and make-up dust that clogged them, Trixie didn't notice the back left corner of her cloak get caught in the studio's exit door. Only when she felt the tug of the fabric as it reached its maximum stretch did she realize what was happening, and by then it was too late too do anything about it. The thin cloth very quickly gave up its struggle to stay on Trixie's body and, with an attention-drawing ripping sound, the fabric around Trixie's chest tore. The entire cloak flew backwards off of Trixie as the stretched fibers returned to their original length, unveiling the startled showmare beneath. As the entire street momentarily became silent, Trixie had time to utter a mere two words before the inevitable stampede began: "Oh buck...!"