The Final Accusation: A Legal Comedy

by Kwakerjak


Chapter 2: St. Tiara of Ponyville

House Divided sighed deeply as he began pacing around the room. “In order to fully explain the logic behind Equestrian legal procedures, it is necessary to explain the history of the judiciary. Before the establishment of official courts, disputes between ponies tended to be settled by duels, whether in the form of races, jousting, or magical confrontations. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that stronger ponies tended to get their way in these sorts of squabbles. Similarly, crimes against the community tended to be handled by angry mobs, as many strong ponies eventually learned to their dismay.

“However, as most ponies felt that the resulting anarchy was a rather undesirable state of affairs, ponies contrived judicial systems in order to settle disputes and mete out justice against the wicked. Each of the three pony races had their own unique quirks and variations in their courtroom procedures, but all three relied heavily on the process of accusation.”

Applejack—or Princess Mara, as her tutor preferred to call her—nodded in comprehension. “Okay, I was followin’ ya up to the part about accusin’. What is that?”

“At that time, all trials, whether civil or criminal, involved two ponies: the accuser, and the accused. At the trial, the former would implicate the latter in some manner of wrongdoing or mischief. Then, both parties would bring forth witnesses who could vouch for their personal character. Finally, either a judge or a jury would decide which pony was more trustworthy.”

“And then what?”

“And then the trial was over. If the accuser was found to be more trustworthy, the accused would be found guilty and sentenced accordingly. If the accused was found more trustworthy, they would be declared innocent, and the accuser would be required to pay all court costs as punishment for bringing forth a false accusation.”

“What?! But what about the evidence?”

“Why would they take that into account? After all, they’d already determined which pony was more trustworthy, so it would be insulting not to take them at their word.”

“But... but that would mean you could get away with anythin’, as long as ya did it ta somepony with a worse reputation than you.”

“Or if you were rich enough to bribe witnesses to lie for you,” the unicorn scholar pointed out. “It was, at best, a highly flawed process, but it was still much better than what had existed before, and it wasn’t until after the three races united to form a single nation that a potential alternative was devised. In this process, known as inquisition, the judge or jury would conduct an inquiry into the matter at hoof, examining the evidence, and hearing testimony from witnesses who had some firsthoof knowledge of the incident, rather than ones who simply vouched for a pony’s moral character. The idea was that the losing party would be the one who couldn’t prove their claims.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yes, but attempts to implement it ran into some problems. How could a verdict be reached in those cases where neither party could prove their claims? Or where both parties could present a convincing argument? In short, what was lacking was a way to determine who should have the burden of proof in any given trial. Fortunately, somepony—tradition holds that it was Chancellor Puddinghead, but there isn’t much evidence for it—had the idea of using the accusatorial process to determine where the burden of proof lay. It was at this point that the Equestrian judicial system began to resemble the courtrooms of today.”

“Whoa, hang on a second! I’ve seen plenty of courtroom scenes in plays n’ such, but they never do any of that accusin’ business.”

“That’s because most legal dramas are about criminal trials, which, conveniently enough, leads me to the most recent major development in modern legal theory.”

“Go on,” Applejack said, waving a hoof as she beckoned her teacher to continue.

“Just before Nightmare Moon’s appearance, there were many who sought to take advantage of the recently acquired notoriety of those nobles who had expressed loyalty to Luna, whose popularity had nearly reached its nadir.”

“What’s a nader?”

“Rock bottom, more or less,” House Divided explained. “By bringing forth trumped up charges that couldn’t be disproven, these ponies eroded her already small support base, unknowingly driving her further down the path of madness.”

“Hang on, that sounds familiar. Is this that Sun Cult y’all mentioned before?”

“The very same. When the dust had settled after Nightmare Moon’s banishment, these ponies came forward and admitted what they had done, apparently expecting Celestia to reward them for helping her consolidate her power.”

Applejack winced. “Hoo boy, I wouldn’t wanna be in their horseshoes.”

“Nor would I. Throughout her conflict with Luna, Princess Celestia could not be described as ‘angry’ towards her sister, but rather disappointed. When she banished her to the moon, nopony could say that there was any malice in the act. What these alleged ‘loyalists’ received from her, on the other hoof, was full-blown fury, the likes of which have yet to be repeated.”

“Somethin’ tells me I don’t wanna see that happen.”

“That ‘something’ is called common sense. Most historians of the time refused to go into full detail when describing Princess Celestia’s wrath, because they were worried that doing so would instill an undesirable level of fear in the hearts of their readers. In any case, the first thing she did was to declare that the prosecutor would forevermore have the burden of proof in criminal trials to prevent such abuses from recurring. The second thing she did was to have these ponies tried for corruption under her newly established system. Given that they’d all publicly admitted what they’d done, they all soon found themselves serving sentences in the Canterlot dungeons.”

“Served ’em right,” Applejack said. “But why only criminal trials?”

“In civil trials, all ponies must either pay for their own lawyers, or argue their case themselves. There were concerns that virtuous but poor ponies would otherwise be unable to find justice under this system, as a result of substandard representation. The accusatorial process gives these ponies the opportunity to avoid having to shoulder the burden of proof, which makes for a fairer courtroom.”

“You sure ’bout that? Somethin’ don’t add up there.”

“Princess Mara, no judiciary will ever be perfect. This system has, for the most part, been working well for one thousand years. If you want to change it, I daresay you’ll need to come up with a better idea.”

—————

Applejack sighed as her memories of that lesson faded into the present. She’d been trying to come up with that “better idea” for twelve years now, and had very little to show for it. Coming up with a solution that would be fair to ponies from all walks of life was maddeningly difficult, if only because it seemed like every pony had their own definition of “fairness.”  But there was little point in dwelling on this at the moment; she had more unpleasant matters to attend to.

—————

The spectators in Mara’s throne room quieted down as the Princess rapped her hoof on her armrest. “Be seated. Our Court will now begin the process of determining the burden of proof in the dispute between Diamond Tiara and FlimFlam Brothers, Inc. Today, we shall hear from witnesses who will vouch for the moral character of the plaintiff.” She made eye contact with Silver Spoon. “Are there witnesses prepared to offer such testimony present in this room?”

“There are, Your Majesty.”

“And have they agreed to testify of their own volition and without compensation?”

“They have.”

“Then you may call your first witness.” Applejack sighed softly as she finished this statement; the case had left the comfort of rote ceremony and was now entering the unpredictability of an actual trial.

Silver Spoon stood up and said, “The plaintiff requests the presence of Redheart before this Court.”

There was a small murmur from the spectators as a white earth pony with a pink mane rose from her seat and walked towards Mara’s throne, but this wasn’t particularly unusual. Spectators were generally not told who would be testifying in any given trial in order to prevent harassment and other forms of interference, and as a result, most witnesses tended to invoke a mildly surprised reaction at least. The mare walked behind a wooden partition to Mara’s left and sat down on the padded wooden chair provided.

Merry May, still acting as the Court’s marshall, walked over to her. “Please state your name and occupation for the Court.”

“My name is Redheart, and I am a registered nurse and the chief administrator of Ponyville Hospital.”

“And do you promise to tell the truth to the best of your ability?”

“I do.”

Merry May nodded perfunctorily and walked back to her station. “You may proceed,” she said to Silver Spoon with a second nod.

The grey attorney walked out from behind the table and began her questioning: “Redheart, do you know my client?”

“Yes, she has visited the hospital on numerous occasions since I began working there.”

“How often?”

“Well, until recently her visits were no more frequent than most ponies. Yearly checkups, occasional injuries, that sort of thing. There was also one instance where she had to stay in the hospital for nearly a week for reasons I can’t reveal due to patient confidentiality.”

“Of course,” Silver Spoon replied. She began pacing back and forth as she continued her questioning. “Now, you said that my client’s visits were not particularly frequent until recently, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Would you care to expand on that?”

“Certainly. You see, her interaction with the hospital was fairly typical until about three years ago.”

“And what happened to change her relationship with the hospital?”

“Her father, Filthy Rich, was admitted to the hospital late one night after going into cardiac arrest. He... he didn’t make it.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“It’s always disappointing when you can’t save a life, but this was especially painful. Mr. Rich had been a friend of the hospital for years. He was one of our most prominent donors, and he even organized the occasional fundraiser to help us update our equipment.”

“I’m sure you and the other staff did everything you could to save him.”

“Of course. Common decency dictates that we do everything we can for every pony that comes through our doors. But... as I said, this was particularly emotional for the whole staff.”

Silver Spoon nodded. “When did my client learn what had happened?”

“I told her the next morning.”

“How did she react?”

“Ms. Tiara was quite upset, initially. She seemed quite shocked at her father’s passing, and she rather loudly threatened the hospital with legal action. It’s not an uncommon reaction, though—many ponies are emotional when a loved one dies unexpectedly. She mentioned several recent breakthroughs in medical technology that should have allowed us to save Mr. Rich’s life.”

Princess Mara did her best to hide her emotions as she listened to this. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her that Diamond Tiara would react to her father’s death by throwing a tantrum. Even as a full-grown mare, she never reacted well when she didn’t get exactly what she wanted, and her father’s survival would no doubt have been extremely high on her “want” list.

“Would these breakthroughs have helped?” Silver Spoon asked the nurse.

“No two patients are the same—I can’t say with certainty that they would have.”

“But would his chances for success have been increased?”

“In all likelihood, yes, but these technologies weren’t available to us.”

“And why is that?”

“Quite simply, we lacked the funding to acquire such cutting-edge equipment, as well as the facilities to properly use them.”

“Is that what you told my client?”

“More or less.”

“And how did she react?”

“She seemed to calm down after this. She agreed to file some paperwork, after which she left to ‘think things over,’ as she put it.”

“When did you next hear from her?”

“It was about six months later. Out of the blue, she barged into my office and told me that she wanted to build a new emergency wing for the hospital, with all the latest technology to give other ponies the best possible chance at survival. She also made it clear that money was no object. I was... well, rather stunned, but once I made certain that she was quite serious, I had her present the proposal to Ponyville Hospital’s board of trustees. From there, things progressed quite rapidly; it wasn’t long before we broke ground on the new wing, and last year we completed construction and opened the Rich Memorial Emergency Wing for the public.”

“And has this new facility benefited the public?”

“Oh, yes. Several dozen ponies have been saved due to the new equipment, and countless more have been able to rehabilitate from serious injuries with greater ease thanks to improvements in their initial care.”

“So, would you say that this speaks well of Diamond Tiara’s character, then?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you, Ms. Redheart. I have no further questions.” Silver Spoon returned to her seat next to her client.

“Your witness,” Mara said to Slim, who flashed a broad grin at the Princess as she rose to cross-examine the nurse.

“Ms. Redheart,” the nattily-dressed attorney began, “I must first congratulate you on your hospital’s recent prosperity, and thank you for the goodwill you and your staff have been generating for all of ponykind.”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome, I suppose.”

“Out of curiosity, just how sizable was the investment in this new wing?”

“I believe that that information is publicly available....”

“Perhaps, but as you just intimated to Ms. Spoon, this reflects on the vastness of the plaintiff’s moral character, so I would think it bears repeating it for all to hear.”

“Well, I don’t have the exact figures, but the wing cost about three million bits to construct.”

“Three million bits! My goodness! Does that also include the cost of the new equipment?”

“Er, no. That cost an additional million.”

“Sun, Moon, and Soil! My friends, we are surely in the presence of a true paragon of magnanimity! Four million bits out of her own personal fortune, all to assist fellow ponies in their time of greatest need! Why, one suspects that she will be considered for the position of the next Bearer of Generosity!”

Mara raised an eyebrow suspiciously. She wasn’t certain why the lawyer was calling attention to her adversary’s largesse, but she doubted it was straightforward praise.

“Um, actually...” Redheart said, speaking up.

“What is it, my good mare?” Slim asked genially.

“Ms. Tiara didn’t provide the money directly. The donation actually came from her company—though I understand that she was the driving force behind this.”

Slim smirked, leading the Princess to believe that the lawyer had jumped over a major hurdle in her strategy. “Is that so? Then, am I correct in saying that this captain of industry’s metaphorical ship brandishes the moniker ‘Rich Enterprises, Inc.’?”

“I believe so.”

“Am I also correct in my assumption that this exemplary illustration of generosity afforded the aforementioned benefactor the opportunity to attenuate their annual assessments to the Crown?”

“Huh?”

“Was the donation tax-deductible?” Mara asked, barely managing to keep her eyes from rolling.

“Oh, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Slim, however, was under no obligation to answer any questions posed by the witness, and continued on. “Once the construction of monument to modern medicine was complete, did that constitute the extent of the hospital’s relationship with the plaintiff’s company?”

“Ah, no, as a matter of fact. They also own and operate the hospital’s gift shop.”

“A gift shop?”

“Yes. Visitors often wish to bring gifts to patients, but sometimes they’re in such a hurry to get to the hospital that they don’t have time to purchase one on the way. Ms. Tiara came up with the idea of establishing a small Rich’s Barnyard Bargains franchise on the hospital grounds for their convenience. The board of trustees figured that it was the least they could do after their act of charity.”

“Indeed. And I assume, of course, that they don’t charge any more than is necessary to cover operating costs at this franchise.”

“Um, actually, no. The manager on site explained that if they reduced their prices, everypony would simply shop at the hospital, and they’d soon have to raise prices in order to keep turning a profit.”

“Ah... that’s perfectly understandable. So, they charge the same prices as they do at their regular stores, then?”

“Um, no, actually. You see, apparently, the operating costs at the hospital are considerably higher...”

“Your Majesty,” Silver Spoon interjected with some annoyance, “is there a point to this line of questioning?”

Slim didn’t even wait for Mara’s response. “Naturally, there is, Your Most Royal Majesty,” she said as she nonchalantly strolled back to her table and picked up a stack of papers with her magic. “May it please the Court, I would like to submit the quarterly reports for Rich Enterprises as evidence, as well as their publicly available tax returns.”

“Objection, Your Majesty,” Silver Spoon said rather firmly. “There is no reason for the defense to be submitting evidence at this point in the trial.”

Mara turned back towards Slim. “Well?”

“Very well, I shall cease beating around the bush and say it outright: In the first year of this franchise’s operation, Rich Enterprises garnered nearly 100,000 bits in sales in a facility whose costs of construction were written of as a tax deduction and thus indirectly relegated to the Equestrian taxpayer. Thus, over the next decade, this alleged ‘act of charity’ could very well leave the plaintiff’s company with one million bits in the black.”

At this, Diamond Tiara jumped to her feet with pure hatred flashing across her eyes. “How dare you—”

May it please the Court, I would like to submit the quarterly reports for Rich Enterprises as evidence, as well as their publicly available tax returns,” Slim repeated, her voice managing to drown out the remainder of the plaintiff’s tirade.

“Order! Order!” The Princess shouted as she rapped her hoof on the armrest. Once the assembled ponies had quieted down, she spoke up again. “The Court will accept the defense’s evidence,” she said, taking the papers from the unicorn lawyer, “and I would like to remind the plaintiff that if she doesn’t have the self-control to restrain herself from outbursts, she risks being cited for contempt, which will be factored into my decision if it occurs before the accusation phase is completed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Silver Spoon answered for her client.

Mara turned her glare over to the other attorney in the room. “I would also like to remind the defense that there is a rather significant difference between gross sales and net profits, and that they would be wise to keep that in mind if they wish to impugn the plaintiff’s financial integrity.”

Slim said nothing, but she looked mildly chastened, as though she hadn’t expected this distinction to be noticed. Apparently, her brothers had given her the impression that Applejack had only a tenuous grasp of basic economics—as if she wouldn’t have learned anything after a dozen years on the throne.

“Ms. Slim, do you have any more questions for Ms. Redheart?”

“I have no further questions, Your Majesty.” the lawyer replied, her mouth turning up once again into a slight smirk. She walked back to her table, where her brothers had equally smug looks plastered on their faces.

“You are dismissed, Ms. Redheart,” Mara told the nurse. When the mare had returned to her seat, the Princess spoke once again to Silver Spoon. “You may call your next witness.”

Silver Spoon sighed as she rose again. “The plaintiff requests the presence of Time Turner before this Court.”

One minute later, a brown earth pony stallion with a green necktie was sitting by Mara’s side, and Merry May had once again walked forward to perform her ceremonial duty.

“Please state your name and occupation for the Court.”

“I am Time Turner, and I am the incumbent mayor of Ponyville.”

“And do you promise to tell the truth to the best of your ability?”

“I do.”

Merry May turned back to Silver Spoon. “You may proceed.”

Even though her client was still visibly seething, it appeared that the grey attorney had already put the previous disruption behind her as she began questioning her new witness. “Mayor Turner, how well would you say you know my client?”

“I wouldn’t say that I know her on a personal level,” the official replied in a smooth, even tenor, “but I’ve gotten to know her in a professional context as a result of her activities in the community.”

“And what would the nature of these activities?”

“Ms. Tiara chairs the Ponyville Restoration Committee, which is coordinating the restoration of Ponyville’s historic market district.”

“And what, exactly, are her responsibilities?”

“Essentially, she and the other committee members identify buildings and landmarks in the area that are in need of refurbishing, and, if necessary, help the owners deal with the paperwork needed to request public funding to cover the expenses. You see, ever since Princess Mara’s coronation, Ponyville’s population has been growing quite rapidly—so rapidly, in fact, that the market district wasn’t big enough for all of the new businesses that were being set up. This led to the establishment of new commercial districts, but ironically also resulted in the original market district becoming somewhat run-down as customers began patronizing the new businesses. The Committee was set up so the place could get spruced up a bit, making it a bit more attractive to customers and keeping several of the town’s beloved institutions from going under.”

“And has this effort been effective?”

“Oh, yes. Collectively, the stores in the district have had their revenues increase nearly twenty-five percent, and one of the most well-known bakeries in town, Sugarcube Corner, was rescued from near-bankruptcy.”

“And has my client received any compensation for her service to the community?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Time Turner replied.

“Thank you, Mayor Turner. I have no further questions.” As Silver Spoon returned to her seat, her eyes darted between her client and the opposing counsel, as if she couldn’t decide which of the two posed a greater threat to her case.

Slim cranked up the charm once again as she approached Time Turner, flashing the most winning smile she could manage at him. To her mild consternation, the mayor returned the favor with a practiced, confident smile of his own—he was a politician, after all. “Mayor Turner,” she began, shrugging off her apparent slip-up, “where exactly in this fair town might one find the historical market district?”

“It’s in the center of town, near the mayoral offices and the town’s library.”

“Indeed? And would you care to explain how this specific locality acquired the honorific adjective of ‘historical’?”

Time Turner nodded. “It was the town’s first commercial district, consisting of the businesses that grew around the Rich family’s first store.”

“And that emporium still stands today, serving as a beacon of savings to bargain-hunters throughout the region, under the name ‘Rich’s Barnyard Bargains,’ correct?”

“Yes... and before you ask, Rich Enterprises has not applied for any public assistance in refurbishing their store.”

“I... uh... the thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” Slim replied, though it was obvious from the look on her face that that had been precisely what she’d planned to ask next. The attorney took a half-second to regain her composure, running a hoof through her lavender mane before continuing her cross-examination. “Now, I would imagine that all of this additional beautification would create a corresponding increase in property values for all of the buildings in the area, irregardless of whether or not the owners had directly participated in this program.”

Mara rolled her eyes when the lawyer said “irregardless.” She’d never liked the meaningless prefix, as it usually meant that somepony was trying to sound more intelligent than they actually were by using an impressively multisyllabic word—although in this case, Slim had probably used it because her vaguely singsong cadence required her to fill that space with some sort of noise. The mayor, meanwhile, hadn’t seemed to notice anything odd. “Naturally,” he answered.

“And of course, the owners of these properties will be able to take advantage their newfound fortune when applying for loans at financial institutions.”

Time Turner nodded. “It is true that having more valuable property to offer as collateral would make it easier for them to get loans...” Slim grinned smugly, but before she could move in for the kill, the mayor finished his sentence: “...but I think that is more than balanced out by the fact that they also have to pay higher property taxes.”

There were several seconds of silence as Slim stood before the witness with a confused look on her face. Applejack somehow managed to suppress a smirk; there were few things more gratifying than watching a hotshot attorney get thrown off her game. “Are you alright, Ms. Slim?” she asked, letting the barest hint of her native accent slip into her question.

“I’m fine, Your Majesty,” the mare said.

“Do you have any more questions for Mayor Turner?”

“Um... no, I have no further questions.” She walked back to her table, where her two brothers seemed quite agitated. Slim started whispering barely audible reassurances to her clients as she sat down.

“You are dismissed, Mayor Turner,” Mara told the stallion, who smiled politely as he left the stand. Once again, she made eye contact with Silver Spoon. “You may call your next witness.”

The grey attorney’s confidence had obviously been buoyed by her counterpart’s crash and subsequent burn, as she allowed herself to smile when she said, “The plaintiff requests the presence of her final witness, Dominick the Donkey, before this Court.”

Mara was stunned to see a small, nervous-looking donkey step before her throne. This was extremely unusual—not because he was a donkey (non-pony testimony had been accepted in Equestrian courts for more than a millennium), but because he was obviously still a child. Asking a juvenile of any species to be a character witness was risky, because many of them weren’t mature enough to properly evaluate a pony’s character. The Princess fully expected the defense to raise an objection on these grounds... but it never came.

It certainly wasn’t because Slim was still shaken up. In fact, her smug grin was now glowing more triumphantly than ever. If anypony was rattled, it was Silver Spoon, who had no doubt prepared an argument for why the young jack should be allowed to testify. Instead, it appeared that Slim had not only anticipated Dominick’s testimony, but was glad that it would be taking place.

For his part, Dominick had sat down on the seat and was now looking around the cavernous room apprehensively. Merry May didn’t bother walking over to meet him, since she knew that the Princess preferred to handle underaged witnesses herself. “Howdy there. What’s yer name?” Applejack asked the little donkey, giving him a reassuring smile as she reverted to her folksy native accent.

“Um, D-Dominick, Princess.”

“And where’re ya from, Dominick?”

“I, um, I’m from Ponyville.”

“Ya goin’ ta school here?”

“Uh huh...”

With the witness’ name and occupation taken care of, it was time to get to the topic of honesty. “A’right, Dominick. Now, these folks are gonna ask you a few questions. I want you ta answer ’em as best ya can. It’s real important that ya tell the truth, though, so if ya don’t know the answer to any question, just say ya don’t know. Same thing if ya don’t feel comfortable answerin’ a question. It’s better ta not give any answer than ta make somethin’ up. You understand?”

“Um, I think so.”

“Well, alright then.” Mara looked over at Silver Spoon, and, switching back to her Manehattan accent, said, “You may proceed.”

The silver mare walked up to her witness and tried to give an encouraging smile of her own to the little jack, but whatever encouragement Dominick might have received was canceled out by the self-satisfied smirk that was still plastered on Slim’s face. “Dominick, when did you first meet Ms. Tiara?”

“Um, it was two years ago, just before Hearth’s Warming.”

“Where did you meet her?”

“In the store.”

“Rich’s Barnyard Bargains?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why did you go there?”

“To get something.”

“For yourself, or for someone else?”

“It was for my Mama.”

“A Hearth’s Warming gift?”

“Yeah...”

“You wanted to give her something special, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Would you mind telling us why?”

“Well, Mama was always there for me. Every day, she’d make me lunch before I went to school, and when I got home, there was always dinner there, too. And then at night, she’d tuck me into bed. When I was little she’d read bedtime stories to me, but I’m older now. We didn’t have a lot of money, but Mama always made Hearth’s Warming good at our house, though most years she just did without. Except that year...” The young donkey trailed off.

“What happened?”

“Well, around the end of summer, Mama started getting really bad headaches. She wasn’t able to make lunch for me as often, so Daddy had to help her out. He was okay at it, but he always forgot to cut the crusts off my sandwiches. Then Mama started getting really skinny, even though she was eating normal just like me and Daddy. Daddy took Mama to the doctor, and the doctor said that Mama was really really sick. Like, the kind of sick that can’t be fixed with vegetable soup. The doctor said Mama needed lots of rest to get better, so Mama started spending a lot of time in bed. But... but she wasn’t getting better. Soon, clumps of her fur were falling out. Daddy said that Mama might not be around much longer, and Mama was really sad, because she wasn’t going to be able to make Hearth’s Warming special.

“So, I thought, maybe I could make Hearth’s Warming special for her this year. I’d been saving up my money all year to buy a train set, but making Mama happy seemed to be a lot more important. I got all my money out of my piggy bank, and I went to the store to find something for Mama. At first, I was going to get her this really pretty scarf, but then I saw these shoes. They were like the kind that the Princesses wear, all shiny and pretty. I looked at the box, and they were Mama’s size! I knew I had to get them, because then Mama could feel like she was a Princess, and lots of girls like feeling like they’re a Princess, and Mama was basically a really big girl, right? I took the box to the cash register pony, and I gave the cash register pony my money, but he said there wasn’t enough. I was really sad, because Mama wasn’t going to get to feel like a Princess.”

Silver Spoon smiled. “So, what happened next?”

“Well, then I saw Miss Tiara. I told her about Mama, and how she was sick, and how I wanted to get her the shoes, and how I didn’t have enough money, and I asked her for help. And she helped me! She paid the rest of the money for the shoes, and she gave me the train set I wanted!”

“And did your mother like your gift?”

“Uh huh. She said it was the best gift ever. She was crying when she said it, but she said they weren’t sad tears.”

“Did they make her feel like a Princess?”

“Yeah... they really did.”

“So, would you say Ms. Tiara is a nice pony?”

“Definitely! She’s one of the nicest ponies I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you, Dominick. I have no further questions, Your Majesty.” Silver Spoon walked back to her client and sat down.

Mara couldn’t believe her ears; it almost sounded like Diamond Tiara was actually capable of genuine empathy. Not only that, it seemed that she’d actually acted on those feelings in a positive way! Perhaps she’d misjudged the standoffish mare....

As Slim rose to begin her cross-examination, Mara shot out a warning glare at her. The message couldn’t have been clearer: Do not make this child upset. The unicorn attorney seemed to acknowledge this, nodding briefly before turning her attention to the witness. “That must have been a very memorable experience, Mr. Dominick,” she began. Her voice had none of its usual “traveling salespony” cadence, which surprised Mara. She’d been certain that the defendants’ lawyer would be just as aggressive with this witness as she’d been with the other two. “I bet you can recall every detail of what happened that night.”

“Uh huh,” Dominick said, his wary tone conveying his distrust of the pony who’d been saying mean things about Miss Tiara all day.

“Tell me,” Slim continued, “were you aware that somepony wrote a song about what happened that night?”

“They did?”

Slim nodded. “Ms. Tiara’s company asked a musician to write a song. Have you heard it?”

“Nuh uh.”

Slim looked at the Princess. “May it please the Court, I would like to submit a performance of the chorus of the aforementioned song as evidence.”

Mara didn’t know what to make of this... and apparently, neither did the plaintiff or her attorney, if the looks on their faces were any indication. “Um, I guess the Court will accept the defense’s evidence.”

Slim glanced back at her clients. “Boys, if you would be so kind...”

Flim extracted a pitch pipe from his pocket, blew a note to get his vocal bearings, and then began singing in a soft, melodious tenor:

Miss, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please.
It’s Hearth’s Warming Eve and these shoes are just her size.

Flam now joined his brother, singing in unison with him at first, before gradually beginning to harmonize with him:

Can you hurry, ma’am? Daddy says there’s not much time.
You see, she’s been sick for quite a while
And I know these shoes will make her smile
And I want her to look beautiful if she leaves for the Pasture tonight.

It was a beautiful performance, and Princess Mara might have been touched by it were the song itself not so cloying and saccharine that it would make Pinkie Pie nauseous.

Slim returned her attention to Dominick. “How close was that to what you actually told Ms. Tiara?”

“Uh, pretty close, I think. Um I mean... well... I didn’t mention my Daddy or that part about a Pasture the first time I asked her.”

Slim’s eyebrow cocked upward inquisitively as Diamond Tiara simultaneously slunk lower in her chair. “The first time? You had to ask her more than once before she agreed to help?”

“No, she said she’d help out when I first asked her, but she told me that she’d buy me my train set if we went back to the cash register pony where all the other customers were and I asked her again, and included the parts about Daddy and the Pasture.”

“I see. Did you know that her company hired ponies to play this song in their stores for Hearth’s Warming shoppers last year?”

“Um, no, but that sounds really nice of her. Music makes things better, most of the time.”

“That’s certainly true, Dominick. I have one more question for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What do you think your mother would think about this song?”

“I dunno. Why don’t you ask her? She’s sitting right over there.” The young jack pointed towards a row of spectators near the front of the courtroom, and sure enough, there was frail, matronly jenny, waving to her son. “She got better soon after I met Miss Tiara. I think the shoes did it,” Dominick ended with a smile, confident that he’d proven that Miss Tiara was the best pony ever.

“Thank you, Dominick. Your Most Royal Majesty, I have no further questions.” Slim returned to her seat, her smile looking more victorious than ever.

“Y’all can go back to yer Mama, Dominick,” Applejack told the little donkey, who practically galloped back to his mother. The Princess looked at Silver Spoon, who was pressing a hoof against her temple. “Does the plaintiff have any more character witnesses to present?”

“No, Your Majesty,” the grey mare said in a tone that managed to hide most of her frustration.

“Then this Court will reconvene tomorrow, and the defendants will be granted liberty to demonstrate their moral character. Our Court is adjourned.”

—————

“If you’re going to drink it that fast, you might as well not bother with the glass.”

Applejack stared over her third glass of applejack at her seneschal, who was watching her Princess drown her irritations with a bemused look on her face. “Care to join me?”

“You know I don’t drink on the job.”

“Then find somepony else to stand around and take the rest of the night off.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yer darn tootin’ it is.”

It took Merry May a few minutes to find a replacement, but she soon found herself partaking in the distilled cider beverage with her employer. “Today was... interesting,” she said, unable to think of a better adjective.

“Ya got that right. We’re dealin’ with two really good lawyers here.”

“Really? It seemed like they made a lot of mistakes.”

“Eh, somethin’ tells me that’s just what happens when they don’t got too much to work with. I mean, usually, somepony would use better examples than what Silver Spoon came up with, but, well, with Diamond Tiara, those are slim pickings. And Slim probably wouldn’t have spent so much effort tearin’ those testimonies apart if her brothers had anything decent to counter it with. Then again, they really don’t seem to like each other very much, so maybe she was just bein’ a jerk. Still, I gotta admit, my opinion of Diamond Tiara has improved today.”

“The bar was that low, huh?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack replied before knocking back a fourth glass.

“And, if you don’t mind my asking, what do you think of the FlimFlam brothers?”

“I’m tryin’ not to. Least not ’til I have to.”

Merry May smiled. “Well, I can’t exactly argue with that.”