//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: Clean Slate // by Alaborn //------------------------------// Clean Slate By Alaborn Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein. Epilogue November 2, 1488 AC (Ten Years Later) North Fillydelphia, Principality of Equestria I prowled the aisles of the newest Rich’s Barnyard Bargains. Row upon row of quality goods, all awaiting the store’s first customers. I frowned as I spotted plaster dust coating one of the racks holding winter jackets. I grabbed a rag and wiped it down. Around me, ponies moved uncertainly in the tumult of a new store opening. I looked at one such group. “If you’re not otherwise engaged, grab a rag or broom and clean up! I don’t want any sawdust or scraps of paper littering this place when the customers arrive!” I don’t know if they recognized me, but they recognized that tone of voice, the one saying “I’m in charge.” Continuing my inspection, I spotted a display that looked off. I turned to the department manager. “This display of snow shovels needs to move. The model train display at the edge of the toy department is going to attract the attention of every colt and filly who steps in the store. I want a clean line of sight to it from all three of these angles!” I motioned with my hoof, and the department manager moved to correct the problem. I finished my tour of the facility, pleased to find almost everything in order. I strode up to the front office, ready to give my motivational speech. I heard “All managers to the front” announced over the store’s public address system. I paced back and forth as ponies assembled, ignoring the pain in my leg that was flaring up. I would not show weakness. “In two hours, we will open this store, the first Rich’s Barnyard Bargains in the greater Fillydelphia area. It won’t be the last, if I have my way, and when the next store opens, I want that manager to say, ‘I know how this is done. The North Fillydelphia store showed us how.’ “This store is the first exposure for most of the ponies here to the Rich’s Barnyard Bargains traditions of friendly service, wide selection, and bargain prices. Remember these principles in every interaction you have with your customers. “And speaking of selection, in this month, we anticipate stocking zap apple jam, rain drops, and cloud puffs. Each of these is one of the nearly thirty unique products that Rich’s has the exclusive right to distribute across Equestria. It is these products that bring new shoppers into the store. Make sure that everypony working here knows about the products and can describe them. That’s the best way to sell the unfamiliar and to win repeat customers. You’ll need to manage your supply of these products carefully, as once you run out, that’s it for the year. “I think that’s enough of my blathering. I’ll leave you in the capable hooves of Silver Market, the store manager. Good luck, everypony.” After accepting the polite applause, I headed outside. I thought about the store, the first store I opened as president and chief executive officer of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains. Facts from the executive summary filled my mind. The store was standard size. It was established in a growing and prosperous neighborhood. The nearby streetcar stop enabled even more ponies to be able to reach the store. And all around, neighborhoods were filled with ponies with busy schedules, an eye for value, and a desire for quick service. Our target market. And more importantly, we were located less than a mile from the border with Fillydelphia. I anticipated a lot of shoppers from the city would make the trip here. The exterior of the store would tomorrow look much like every other Rich’s Barnyard Bargains. Today, though, it was a miniature fair. I saw food vendors, balloons, face painters, even a Ferris wheel. I could smell the Filly cheese-hay sandwiches, but the butterflies in my stomach told me to pass. Instead, I went to check on the entertainment I had recruited. “I’m telling you, you don’t have anything to worry about!” Apple Bloom protested, pounding her hoof on a curved ramp. She carried her many tools in a workpony’s vest; I noted it was one of the brands carried by Barnyard Bargains. “And I’m telling you, I’m going to go finish my dive, pick up my scooter hidden in the cloud, and then I’ll be coming down this ramp at a super speed! I can’t risk it splitting!” Scootaloo said. She was dressed in her form-fitting bodysuit, the reverse color scheme of blue-trimmed yellow identifying her as a Wonderbolts stunt flier. I often suspect Rainbow Dash led the charge for the Wonderbolts to recognize fliers whose talents were in something other than speed. “I’m using a quadruple groove to join together the two pieces, and the whole thing is resin-coated for strength!” She pounded the ramp again. “I’d stake my right forehoof on this construction. That is, unless you’re planning on using my tree-bucket to launch yourself into the ramp.” “Definitely not!” Scootaloo responded. “But that would be awesome!” She pounded on the ramp, determined to see for herself that it was sturdy enough. “Would you two stop that?” a voice called out from behind the ramp. “I’m stressed enough as it is!” “Why don’t you two talk elsewhere?” I told Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. “I’ll check up on her.” On the side of the ramp, away from public view, was a makeshift door. I opened it and slipped inside. Underneath the ramp was a small stage, with magical lights and amplifiers ready for a concert. After Scootaloo’s performance, this ramp would slide open, revealing the stage and leading into a surprise concert. This part of the festivities had not been announced to anypony, and I was confident we had managed to keep it secret. The performer, Sweetie Belle, was seated in the corner, illuminated by the light of a single sungem. A cup of cold tea sat on a nearby table, untouched. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Nervous,” she replied. “And hearing those two talk about failure isn’t helping.” “I’m nervous too. But I’m not nervous about your performance, or Scootaloo’s. You’ve both proven yourselves in countless other shows. Me? This is my first store opening, the first major project I’ve led as head of Barnyard Bargains. The success of this store will reflect on everything I do for the rest of my life. I’ve staked my reputation on winning this market. “But there’s one thing I know about business, Sweetie Belle. Ponies like a bargain, and nothing’s better than getting something for free. Every pony out there is going to get a free concert from the greatest singer in Equestria, and I guarantee that as soon as you break into Mend This Crystal Heart, you will have the entire crowd cheering for you! And what’s better than making ponies happy?” “You’re right. I just don’t know why I’m feeling so bothered right now,” Sweetie Belle said. I think I had an idea. A failure here wouldn’t be letting down some concert promoter she’d never see again. It would mean letting down a friend. “As long as you get out there and do your best, I’ll be happy,” I said. “If you still feel nervous, just pretend it’s just you showing me how to sing again.” Sweetie Belle nodded and finally took a sip of her tea. “I’ll do that.” Stepping out from the stage, I spotted a silvery gray mare, and walked over to her. Silver Spoon nodded as I approached. While she didn’t have any role in this grand opening, I wanted my best friend to be here with me. “I bet this is nothing like those Canterlot parties,” I commented. “You’re right. This party is actually enjoyable,” Silver Spoon replied. I spent four years in Canterlot as Silver Spoon’s roommate while we both studied at Royal Canterlot University. I got dragged along to more than enough of those parties, so I knew what she was talking about. “Let’s just say that we’re never planning on opening a store in High Canterlot,” I said. We both laughed. “Say, did you see Apple Bloom earlier?” “No, I missed seeing her.” “She was wearing a silver bracelet, a gift from her coltfriend. I do believe it was an Argentia design, bought from Barnyard Bargains.” “Ah, yes, low class jewelry. Why, the kind of pony that would buy my hoofcrafted silverware and unique silver jewelry would never deign to associate themselves with the creator of such mass-market trash.” Silver Spoon stared at me, nodding seriously. I stared back, mimicking her seriousness. We lasted about five seconds before we broke out laughing. “You know, I hated being pressured by my parents to study at a top university, because that’s what I was supposed to do,” Silver Spoon said. “But it gave me the chance to study chemistry and alchemy, letting me learn ways of making silver alloys that were suitable for everyday wear and quick to produce. It gives my apprentices the opportunity to practice, and I certainly appreciate having a source of constant revenue.” “I can imagine your cash flow is otherwise rather uneven,” I said. “No doubt.” “What about the real reason your parents sent you to college? You have a coltfriend?” “Let’s see,” Silver Spoon said. “I’m looking for somepony in Canterlot that is of suitable station to make my parents happy, has a level head, and who is interested in a mare who works with her hooves and will get dirty every day.” She paused. “Yeah, I don’t see that happening.” “You’re getting more involved in the supply side of your family’s business, right? Use those trips outside of Canterlot for something productive.” “Not a bad idea. And how about you? Have your studies paid off?” “No coltfriend, of course. The business degree didn’t really teach me anything I didn’t already know, but it helps me in talking with investors, giving them information in the format they want to hear it. But the cultural studies degree has really helped.” “I’m guessing it doesn’t have anything to do with this store opening, right?” “Correct,” I replied. “I don’t know if you’ve ever sold anything to a donkey before, but they’re really stubborn negotiators. They’ll haggle over the simplest purchase. With a set price for everything, Barnyard Bargains is not the place they want to shop. “But now I have a better idea of why. They value that feeling of winning. And while I can’t change our set price policy, I have come up with an idea that will promote the store, will give them that feeling of victory, and can be used by all Equestrians.” Silver Spoon leaned in, intrigued. “What is it?” “A simple slip of paper, entitling its holder to an additional discount on an item we already sell. I call it a coupon.” “Interesting,” Silver Spoon said. “We’ll be rolling out the concept in Damver and Cheyjennet first, and I’ve instructed the stores to reach out to those cities’ large donkey populations. I’m hoping it will bring more donkeys into the store, but even if it doesn’t work, I think this promotion will be good for Rich’s Barnyard Bargains.” I noticed the position of the sun, and then checked my pocket watch. “I’ve got to go kick this off,” I said. I embraced Silver Spoon. “Thanks for coming to support me.” “And thank you for the invitation,” Silver Spoon replied. “Good afternoon, citizens of North Fillydelphia and visitors. I’d like to thank you all for coming to the grand opening of the first Rich’s Barnyard Bargains to open in the greater Fillydelphia area. In one hour’s time, you will be able to see first-hoof the selection, service, and bargain prices that ponies across Equestria have come to love. But for now, please turn your eyes to the sky, and watch the amazing acrobatics of the Wonderbolts’ own Scootaloo!” I did want to watch my friend perform, but I’ve seen her practice. Besides, there was one last detail to handle before the store opening, and somepony I wanted to see. I found Applejack and Big McIntosh out in front of the store. The sapling apple tree they brought from Ponyville was resting on the ground. Applejack wiped her brow and set down her shovel, happy with the hole she had just dug. The tiny pegasus filly perched on Big McIntosh’s head, cherry red with a pink mane, was the first to notice my approach. “Auntie Pinkie!” she squealed, bouncing on her father’s head. Big McIntosh flinched slightly, but he appeared to be used to this. “I’m not Auntie Pinkie,” I said. “I’m Diamond Tiara.” “Auntie Pinkie! Auntie Pinkie!” she continued ”I don’t think you’re going to win that argument with little Cinnamon,” Big McIntosh said. “It’s good practice for the Fillydelphia city council,” I replied, smiling. “So, is that why we’re in this North Fillydelphia place?” Applejack asked. I nodded. Even though I was no longer living with the Apples, I found myself at Sweet Apple Acres several times a month. Rarely were the visits just to talk about a contract. I could rely on them for advice about both life and business. The more I learned about my family business, the more parallels I saw in the way the Apples ran their farm. And they possessed something truly rare. Honesty. I could talk to Legal Plan about a proposed business transaction, and know he’d keep it secret because of confidentiality rules. But that still didn’t feel as safe as talking with Applejack and Big McIntosh. I could ask them to keep mum about some unannounced deal, and I knew they would. “I did make one attempt at building a store in Fillydelphia,” I said. “We have three good sites for a future store. But the mayor has been playing these games for twenty years. Negotiations go back and forth, sometimes looking like we’re close to agreement, but then something happens. Some citizens raise a ruckus, or they want some new study, or a law changes. I think the day my father died, he was heading to Fillydelphia to deal with one of these emergencies.” “You must not like this mayor,” Applejack said. “I won’t do anything but respect him as an adversary,” I replied. “The mayor is very good at talking about how he’s fighting for the citizens of Fillydelphia, even when all he’s doing is defending the interests of his cronies or political donors. And if that’s his motivation, then there’s no point in going back there until I have a stronger position to negotiate from. “So that’s what this store is?” Big McIntosh asked. “It’s a good place for a store, but it would have been even better about two miles south, within the Fillydelphia borders. But yes, there’s a strategy at work. The more ponies who shop at Barnyard Bargains, the more they’ll see the mayor’s fight for the politics it is. And the bits they spend here mean tax revenue for North Fillydelphia, not Fillydelphia. In a year’s time, I think the mayor will be ready to negotiate in earnest.” “Then how did you get this store open?” Applejack wondered. “I found the town council here to be more open to honest negotiation,” I said. “They shared a lot of the same attitudes at first. Fillydelphia is one of Equestria’s oldest cities, and they respect their home-grown institutions here. In that aspect, at least, the Fillydelphia mayor is being honest. But I won over the North Fillydelphia town council with a loaf of bread and jar of zap apple jam.” “Now this sounds like a good story,” Applejack interjected. “Indeed. The bread was a loaf of honey wheat bread from Golden Grain’s bakery in North Fillydelphia. It’s recognized as the town’s best bakery, but other bakeries in the area are just as good or better. Bringing in that bread symbolized several things. First, it showed I respected North Fillydelphia as its own town, not just an extension of Fillydelphia. Second, it pointed out the struggles the newer businesses in North Fillydelphia have experienced. Third, it was a product Barnyard Bargains didn’t sell, and reinforced the point I would make about how my store fit into the larger retail environment in cities across Equestria. And finally, it tastes really good with zap apple jam.” “Maybe we could ask Pinkie Pie to make some of that bread,” Big McIntosh said. “The zap apple jam was fresh from last year’s batch. As they savored one of the finest delicacies in the known world, I paced around the room and described how Rich’s Barnyard Bargains is the exclusive seller of dozens of unique products, and how one would have to cross Equestria seven times over the course of a year to buy them all direct. “I talked about the history of zap apple jam, how it is what founded my great-grandfather’s company. And then I talked about my own, personal connection to zap apple jam. I described the magic, I described making it. And then I recounted the story of how one year, I walked into the Everfree Forest by myself, facing down timber wolves, just so we could produce the jam. At that moment, I turned around, and they could see this.” I motioned to the jagged scar on my leg. The scar, my limp, and the pain I often felt would always be with me, a reminder of what I now understood to be one of my most foolish decisions, even though it worked. “I like to think my message was clear,” I concluded. “If I was willing to put my own life on the line, would I really be worried about their decision? Well, they approved the store plan, and a little less than a year later, here we are.” “I always knew this was your destiny,” Applejack said. “I know. But sometimes, I worry what would have happened if nothing had happened, and I didn’t live with you.” “Now, sugarcube, I’m sure you would have matured just fine. We all do. Well, most of us do,” Applejack said. I think we all immediately thought about Pinkie Pie. “It’s not that. Living with Silver Spoon, I finally learned about my past, and why I acted the way I did.” This conversation is one I hadn’t had before, but at this moment, I wanted to talk about it. The new store, the sapling apple tree, all these new beginnings made it feel like the right time. “It took nearly a year to get Silver Spoon to open up and be honest about who I was. And once we talked, I understood why she didn’t want to dredge up the past. She said she noticed a change in me after my mother passed. I started to become... I guess I’d describe it as self-focused. I began to see everything only as it related to myself. I don’t think my father noticed, and the way he helped me cope with the loss of my mother, by giving me anything I wanted, made matters worse. “Do you remember the time I tried preparing the watering cans for the zap apple harvest, and freaked out?” Applejack and Big McIntosh nodded. “I think I was remembering a feeling from the time my father made me help you, before my accident. What I internalized from that experience was not the wonder at watching wild magic at work, nor the silliness of the whole situation. I think I recorded that as your attempt to humiliate me.” “Now that doesn’t sound right,” Big McIntosh said. “It wasn’t right,” I affirmed. “I regret that I still don’t remember all the good things from my past, but I’m glad my accident cured me of this negative thought cycle. And if that didn’t happen, in some way, I would be a terrible leader.” “Is that why you were so hard on Apple Bloom? Because you thought her making friends at your cuteceañera was an attack on you?” Applejack asked. “I think it made me ramp up my bullying, but it actually started with Silver Spoon.” “What do you mean?” Applejack said. “One of the things that was hardest for Silver Spoon to talk with me about was her own influence on me. She picked up some attitudes from her parents and passed them on to me. One of them was that having money made us better. Everypony I’ve talked to said that was the opposite of what my father believed.” “That’s the truth,” Big McIntosh said. “Silver Spoon’s parents wanted their money to give her a better life. They didn’t always do the best things. But she’s turned into a wonderful mare, and I’m glad she’s again my best friend.” “What about Apple Bloom?” Applejack asked. “She’s my friend, but much more like a sister,” I replied. “Now let’s get this tree planted.” Big McIntosh lifted the sapling and placed it in the hole. “It’s not normal to put an apple tree in front of a store, is it?” he asked. “It isn’t usually done. Just put a normal tree, and you don’t have to tend to it all year. All you do is make sure it gets water and sun, and clean up the leaves one day each fall. Simple. But it means so much to me that you’re willing to let me tie our families together like this.” “My pleasure,” Applejack said as she packed dirt around the sapling’s root ball. “Now you remember Woodrow? Well, this sapling’s from one of his seeds.” I placed a hoof gently on the sapling. “It’s nice to meet you,” I thought. “Let’s get you settled into the ground, and then you can grow big and strong, just like your father.” I felt the warmth as my magic connected with the tree and the soil. “What are you going to do with the apples?” Big McIntosh asked. “I know you’re not going to sell them.” “I’m not sure. Give them away to foals? Donate them to the needy? I think I’ll let the store manager decide. And that reminds me, the offer still stands. I’d love to sell packaged dried apples in my store.” “Not going to happen, partner,” Applejack stated. “Sweet Apple Acres apples will be used fresh, or not at all.” Overhead, I saw Scootaloo’s routine reaching its exciting conclusion. “Let’s get over there,” I said to the Apples. “There’s a special treat in store for everypony, and you don’t want to miss it!”