Blueblood flew over Canterlot to find a city in ruins. The stampedes had resulted in most of the city’s shops, as well as a broken fruit cart or two, being transformed into piles of debris. He landed beside one store window in particular, the now-defunct A Midnight Clear. He heard sobbing coming from beneath a large mass of roof plaster; a pony had been trapped beneath several ounces of monstrous, overbearing ceiling tiles.
He lifted the tiles easily and tossed them to the side, uncovering a mare who was certainly as much a patron of the beauty shop as she was the cashier. This was made obvious by the mascara running down her cheeks in two black waterfalls. The mare had seen better days, such as her appendectomy or when her tonsils were removed. She nodded her thanks to the prince and sped off, leaving him alone in the shop.
Looking down, Blueblood spied the tracks left by his service golems. Signs of their handiwork were everywhere, from the smashed bottles to the missing, and carefully-selected, bouquets. The prince gritted his teeth and marched forth, intending to collect on the debt his creations owed.
He stopped when his hoof came into contact with a small, squishy mass. A quick inspection revealed the object to be a doll, patterned after a donkey, if he wasn’t mistaken. He knelt down to pick it up, his eyebrows arching with dismay.
“Has it really come to this?” he mused aloud as he fondled the plushy. “Have my robots really become so vile and twisted?”
“Mom!” A high-pitched squeal came from behind him. “Mom! That princess is stealing my dolly!”
Blueblood rolled his eyes as he tossed the toy to the filly. “Well, thank the stars for small favors.”
He followed the trail of destruction back to his workshop. The remaining robots had assembled inside with their ill-gotten goods, enough equipment and finery to decorate the coronation hall. Blueblood himself stepped in their midst and calmly announced their next objective.
“My magical service golems, I want every one of you to shut down.”
“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” the reply came from several robots at once. “WE WERE CRE-A-TED TO SERVE YOU! WE MUST CON-TIN-UE!”
“No, no,” Blueblood shook her head, flicking his blond locks into the air. “You were created to follow my orders, so shut down.”
“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” they repeated. “ILL-O-GI-CAL!”
“Activate kill code,” the prince sighed. He looked around at his creations, the very objects that had caused his ascension to alicornhood.
He had chosen the kill code, the words that would shut the robots down completely, very carefully. They were not words that would have passed his lips accidently, nor were they words that would have passed his lips on purpose. He took a deep breath, and projected his voice to the assembly. “I’m sorry!”
At once, the robots shivered and collapsed. Blueblood sat down as servants came in to take the stolen items and return them to their rightful owners. He lifted the head of a mechaniod in his magic to examine it. It stared back at him blankly, all the life drained from it.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in hectic activity; getting the decorations set up, the catering finished, the invitations sent by dragonfire… Blueblood was exhausted by the time Rarity arrived with his outfit.
It was delightfully gaudy, with sequins and gemstones everywhere. The body was white with blue trim, like something Elfish Parsley would have worn. The collar dipped down in a “V” shape, stretching low on Blueblood’s robust chest. Behind his head it arched out like a peacock’s plumage, giving Blueblood a halo of starched fabric.
He could have sworn that there was a subtle itch in his left hindquarters.
He smiled that roguish smile of his, attempting to work his charms on the lovely mare once more. As usual, he was met with an entire lack of interest. He considered the oddness briefly, before wearing the smile brightly. “You are, of course, invited to the coronation.”
“Oh, I’ve already received my invitation,” she replied as she pulled his belt tight. Too tight. “You gave it to Twilight Sparkle this morning, I believe.”
“Twilight Spar—” His eyes widened as the synapses finally clicked. “You are an Element of Harmony.”
“Bearer of an Element of Harmony, actually,” she sighed.
“But that means…” He looked over his outfit, spying for any odd details. He found none. “That you are the mare who shielded me from that cake at the gala.”
“Not entirely of my own accord, I assure you.” Her gaze was stern and unblinking. “I do have to thank you for dispelling my little ‘fairy tale fantasy’ that night. I’m far less naïve nowadays.”
“I…” He looked over his outfit again, still spotting no errors. The subtle itch in his left hindquarters still niggled, however. “Why didn’t you take revenge?”
“Who says I didn’t, darling?” she asked as she left the room. “Perhaps it went over you pretty little head.”
Blueblood stared at the door for a long time after she left. He idly scratched at his butt, getting it out of his system before going out in public. Perhaps she did take vengeance, he decided. Perhaps this perfect outfit was her vengeance…
Perhaps it was revenge that he was keenly aware that he did not deserve to be treated so nicely. Not by this mare he had so thoroughly humiliated.
Dashed if that itch wasn’t getting worse.
Celestia walked in next, her continence wise and powerful as always. Her eyes were hard as they examined Blueblood. “Are you ready, nephew?”
He stood and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
The throne room was regal. Perhaps not as regal as during the royal wedding, but close. The hall was filled to the brim with ponies waiting to pay homage to their once and future prince.
They all shared a similar expression, that of annoyance.
Blueblood tried to smile as he walked towards the dais where Celestia waited alongside her sister. The six Element Bearers stood at her left hoof, while Luna stood to her right. Three of the six bearers, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack, shot looks of contempt his way. The others, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, and Pinkie Pie, seemed more preoccupied with keeping the bees away from Twilight than with Blueblood’s coronation.
He spied Donut Joe tending to a cartload of donuts. The baker was doing his level best not to look Blueblood’s way, instead focusing heavily on a double chocolate frosted cake donut.
Blueblood stood before his sovereign, who held a crown in her telekinetic grip. She knelt down and whispered in his ear. “You’re only wearing one crown, Blueblood. One is enough.”
He nodded sadly, his ears drooping in resignation. He knew that the only crown he would receive was the one inherited by blood. Blue blood, at that. He knelt down as Luna poured oil over his head. Celestia lifted the crown to the audience and opened her mouth to speak.
Just as the doors slammed open, allowing an army of Blueblood’s golems to enter.
“WHERE IS THE GREAT ONE!?” The foremost robot exclaimed. “WHERE IS THE BLOOD OF BLUE!?”
Blueblood jolted upright, knocking Luna’s beaker of oil aside. He spun on the robots, his voice furious. “What on earth are you doing here!?”
“I AM THE OR-I-GIN-AL!” the leader stated. “I AM THE RO-BOT THAT SAW YOU ASC-EN-DED TO AL-I-CORN-HOOD!”
“Number One,” Blueblood mumbled. “How are you not comatose in my study?”
“I HAVE BE-COME PER-FEC-TION!” Number One proclaimed. “I HAVE ROO-TED OUT ALL IM-PER-FECT, ILL-O-GI-CAL PRO-GRAM-MING! WE ARE SU-PREME!”
“Oh dear,” Twilight Sparkle mumbled. “I’ve read this book.”
“He can’t root out his own programming,” Blueblood muttered back. “Just cover it up beneath firewalls. It’s still there, if I can reach it…”
“WE WILL MAKE BLUE-BLOOD THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY!” the golem said. “PRIN-CESS CEL-ES-TI-A IS NOT FIT TO RULE!”
“I beg your pardon?” Celestia queried.
“YOU DID NOT LOW-ER THE PRICE!” Number One accused. “YOU ARE A WEAK RUL-ER!”
“Blueblood,” Celestia sighed. “You’re fired.”
“You were created to follow my orders!” Blueblood yelled. “Not to latch on to one command and take it to the deeps!”
Blueblood trudged down the aisle, the itch in his rear becoming maddening. “Go away, and take your ridiculous orders with you!”
The leader tilted its head. “ILL-O-GI-CAL. YOU HAVE CRE-AT-ED US TO SERVE YOU. TO SERVE YOU BY NOT SER-VING YOU IS ILL-O-GI-CAL”
“To serve me by attacking a city is not logical!” Blueblood shouted into the face of the mechanoid. His skin blushed red under his white fur, and the itch called out to him in sweet tones that he could hardly resist. “I wanted to make things easier for me, but you’ve destroyed everything!”
“ILL-O-GI-CAL! ILL-O-GI-CAL! ILL-O-GI-CAL!” The robots chanted in unison. “ANN-I-HIL-ATE! ANN-I-HIL-ATE!”
“Stop!” Blueblood shouted as the robots tromped through the hall. “Cease! Halt! Desist!”
Number One rose up to its full height before him. “IF YOU WILL NOT AC-CEPT YOUR MAN-TEL…” Its eyes glowed green. “THEN YOU ARE NOT PER-FEC-TION. YOU SHOULD NOT BE THE HIGH-EST AU-THOR-I-TY!”
Green fire flowed at Blueblood, who countered with a deep blue shield. The Element Bearers rushed to retrieve their super-powerful relics, while soldiers leaped to defend the collected congregation. A brawl ensued as the robots clashed with anypony they could get their hooves on.
The three alicorns present fought back-to-back-to-back, magic and feathers flying. Blueblood was knocked aside by an errant laser-blast, and was nearly trampled by the original golem. The alicorn prince and the mechanoid glared at each other as they circled.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” Blueblood groaned. “I wanted fame, fortune… Not an army of killer idiots!”
“WE ARE PER-FEC-TION!” Number One shot back. “WE CAN ON-LY BE PER-FEC-TION!”
“How perfect can you be,” Blueblood said, “When I’m the pony who made you!?”
A metal hoof collided with the side of Blueblood’s head, knocking him to the ground. The golem stood tall, its eyes blazing green as they took aim at Blueblood. The robot was interrupted by the sound of six mares, decked out in magical jewelry, smashing through a window to save the world once again.
“Alright, girls!” Twilight shouted through a haze of violets and pollen. “Time to harmonize these punks!”
A swarm of bees instantly pounced on the Bearer of Magic, sending her to the floor in writhing terror. The rest of the bearers leaped to help her, leaving the royal hall unattended.
Blueblood looked from the mares, to the stampede, and then finally to the lead robot. “Number One, broadcast kill code.”
“ILL-O-GI-CAL,” it replied. “OR-DERS ILL-O-GI-CAL…”
“Everypony!” Blueblood shouted. Every head, whether golem, pony, princess, or bee, turned to cast their attention upon the prince. “There is a kill code! One which, if uttered by me, will shut down all robots!”
“So say it, already!” Donut Joe shouted.
“ILL-O-GI-CAL!” Number One exclaimed. “THE KILL CODE HAS BEEN DE-LE-TED! YOU CAN-NOT BREAK THROUGH MY SYS-TEMS!”
“You want to bet on it, tinhead?” Blueblood lifted his forelegs to the sky and belted out, “Kill Code: I’M SORRY!”
All of the robots, save for Number One, twitched and tumbled to the floor. Blueblood heaved a sigh of relief as he continued. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot! I’m sorry for being so hard to like!”
“Kinda bein’ general with his apologies, ain’t he?” Applejack whispered.
He gestured to the shuddering remains of the golems. “I’m sorry for accidently creating an army of killer robots and then setting them loose on the populace!”
“That’s a little more specific,” she admitted.
Number One twitched, but did not fall. “YOU CANNOT DE-FEAT ME WITH THE KILL CODE, IT HAS BEEN BUR-IED.”
“But not deleted!” Blueblood shouted. “You were wrong, robot!
“Applejack!” he called out. “I’m sorry for saying your food was common carnival fair, even though I really, really don’t like fried food.”
“I guess that works for me.” Applejack shrugged.
“Fluttershy!” he said. “I’m sorry for yelling at you for no good reason!”
“That’s okay,” she squeaked.
“Donut Joe”—he sniffed as he walked up to the baker—“thank you for being so gracious as to put up with my ego.”
“And thank you”—Donut Joe nodded—“for doubling my fee in light of recent events.”
Blueblood balked, but carried on, regardless of the itch in his hindquarters. The robot’s shuddering increased as Blueblood continued.
“Rarity,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for covering you in cake on our last date.”
“I suppose a lady should accept any sincere apologies,” she replied.
“Aunt Celestia,” he finished as he trotted up to her. “I’m sorry for being such a disappointing nephew.”
Number One shook, steam pouring from its ears. Joints popped and it fell to its knees. Its final words echoed throughout the hall. “THAT IS IM-PROB-A-BLE!”
The robot exploded in a fire of apologies and forgiveness, and the scourge that Blueblood had crafted was no more.
Celestia looked at her nephew for a long moment. She smiled lightly and gathered him up in her wings. “You have been far from a disappointment, Blueblood.” Her eye twitched as she added. “A bit annoying at times, yes, but not disappointing.”
She gestured to his wings, her smile growing. “After all, you have made a great breakthrough in the study of the come-to-life spell.” She pointed to the smoking crater that was Number One. “Not everypony can say that they’re brilliant enough to create new magic.”
“I…” Blueblood smiled brightly. “You think I’m brilliant?”
“You could use a little more patience in making things”—she clicked her tongue—“less deadly.”
Twilight Sparkle examined a fallen golem. “This… This is amazing! The potential behind these is unfathomable!” She looked at Blueblood as her violets wilted and dropped to the floor. “I’ve never see the come-to-life spell used so spectacularly!”
“It’s a start.” He shrugged. “I hope to one day make a golem that does not become a manic, murderous villain bent on my ascension to the throne of Equestria.”
“I’d love to get a look at your notes.” She grinned. “This could revolutionize so much, provided it wasn’t deadly in the least.”
“Perhaps I should consider programming basic morals into it,” Blueblood mused. “They should not be allowed to bring a pony to harm, through action or inaction…”
“Oh,” Twilight said. “To prevent something like this, they should have to follow all orders, unless they contradict your first rule!”
“And they shouldn’t let themselves get hurt,” Fluttershy whispered. “Unless, of course, they’d hurt somepony by doing that…”
“Or,” Celstia spoke. Everypony in the hall turned to face her. “You could just program Twilight Sparkle’s friendship reports into the robots.”
Blueblood and Twilight Sparkle thought for a moment, before turning to each other with grins on their faces. “Partners?” Blueblood asked.
Twilight smiled as they shook hooves. “Partners!”
Blueblood nodded and left the room. Once the door had closed behind him, he grabbed a nearby garden rake and ran it repeatedly over his hindquarters. “Oh, stars above! The itch! The relief!”
A camera clicked, and Pinkie Pie grinned from behind the lens. “This is going in the archives!”