//------------------------------// // A Christmas Mareol // Story: My British Pony: Stereotypes Are Magic // by CartsBeforeHorses //------------------------------// The mane six piled into a train as it carried them off towards Canterlot. “So, we’re going to be acting in a very special Christmas play today,” said Twilight Sparkle expositioningly. “Ooh, I can’t wait! I’ve been practicin’ me actin’ all year!” Pinkie exclaimed, jumping up and down in her seat, her crooked teeth showing as she grinned. “And I know that we’ll look just smashing in our costumes,” said Rarity, rubbing her hooves together expectantly. “I know that I’ve been gettin’ in character all week,” said Rainbow Chav. “Aye. Ye already fit the part so perfectly, no need to rehearse,” Applejack scoffed. “You wot mate?” asked Rainbow Chav, flying out of her seat and into Applejack’s face. “Are you saying that I’m normally an aggro tosser who don’t get along with nobody?” “Aye,” said Applejack, coughing as Rainbow blew smoke into her face. “Girls, please,” said Fluttershy, getting in between the two of them. “Applejack, you know what a huge complex Rainbow Chav has about taking off her burberry tracksuit trousers and hat even for just a moment. I think she’s very brave taking on this role. And Rainbow Chav, I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke on a train anymore.” “Wot?” asked Rainbow Chav, carelessly puffing away. “Yes, it’s quite illegal,” said Twilight, ripping the fag away with her magic. “Only the parliament, the royal family, and Sherclop Holmes can smoke indoors anymore since they’re better than us common proles and carved themselves an exemption in the law.” “Bollocks,” said Rainbow Chav, folding her arms begrudgingly as Pinkie Pie offered her a piece of nicotine Turkish delight to chew on. “I just hope that I don’t flub my lines. Oh, goodness, I’m so nervous!” exclaimed Fluttershy. “Ahem,” a certain purple dragon spoke. The six ponies turned towards him. “Why can’t I act in the play?” he whined. “Because you’re a lad, Simon. This is a traditional Shakesponean play, meaning that all parts must be played by mares. Even the stallions are played by mares in drag,” explained Twilight Sparkle. “And it’s utterly ridiculous,” Simon said. “Also because you’re a dragon,” said Rainbow Chav. “Cheer up, Simon. At least you get to narrate it,” said Fluttershy, patting Simon on the head consolingly. The train came to a stop at platform nine and three hindquarters in Canterlot, and the ponies plus Simon disembarked and headed for the theatre. All the ponies in the audience sat expectantly, chattering amongst themselves as the six ponies plus the other players all got into costume behind the curtain. Rarity meticulously fastened every button and smoothed out every wrinkle of the complicated costumes. She levitated them over to each of the players, and they each put them on. All except for Rainbow Chav, who couldn’t put on the overcoat, cane, and top hat which made up her costume. “Get on with it, then,” Twilight Sparkle groaned, glaring at Rainbow Chav. A single tear ran down Rainbow Chav’s face as she begrudgingly removed her burberry hat from atop her head. She hadn’t removed it even a single time for over three months. Her greasy, rainbow mane that she hadn’t washed in ages shimmered under the stage can lights, and the stench that arose from under her hat was so foul that ponies started falling to the floor around her left and right. “Good Celestia, Rainbow Chav! That smell is simply ghastly!” Rarity exclaimed, nearly fainting. Thankfully, she was a unicorn, so could pinch her nose with magic, but the others had only their hooves, so were out of luck and had to endure the stink. “Put your hat on at once!” Fluttershy cried, tears forming in her eyes. “Aye!” Applejack cried, taking her Tam o’ Shanter off her head and putting it over her nose as a makeshift gas mask. “Oh, come now, it’s not that bad,” said Rainbow Chav. She glanced down at the top hat. It was like something an old grey stallion would wear, and not at all something for a smashing, fashionable chav like herself-- “PUT YER ‘AT ON!” the players all commanded. Chav rolled her eyes, and begrudgingly donned the top hat. “Stage time, ladies,” said Simon. The ponies all assumed their positions as Simon walked outside of the curtain and addressed the crowd. “Fillies and gentlecolts. Today, we shall tell the story of how Equestria was first founded. Believe it or not, the three races of ponies didn’t always live in harmony. Our Kingdom was not always united. Instead, there were three smaller countries. “The unicorns had the nation of Spells.” The curtain rose to show a group of unicorns herding goats and casting ice spells against a raging cardboard dragon, then fell again. “The earth ponies had the nation of Scoffland.” The curtain rose to show a group of earth ponies playing bagpipes and farming the fields, and being overly dismissive towards everything in sight, then fell again. “And the pegasi had the nation of Wingland.” The curtain rose to show a bunch of Pegasi flying around in suits of armour attacking all of their neighbours, and then fell again. “Also, the crystal ponies had the nation of Northern Sapphireland, but that wasn’t part of Equestria until after this story. Anyway, all of these nations lived apart and had their own languages other than Winglish. That is, until they joined forces to stop a rather rude and impolite pony.” The curtain rose once more to show Rainbow Chav, who was wearing her top hat and overcoat. She sat inside of an office, holding a feather pen in her mouth as she worked on some paperwork. “Meet Featherneezer Coop. She was the meanest-spirited pony around, and made her employees work even on Christmas Eve.” “Uh, miss Coop? I know that we have a lot of work to do, but can I please go home and see my family and my crippled son?” asked Fluttershy, who was playing Cratchit. “Bah humbug!” said Rainbow Chav, glancing only briefly up from her paper as she returned to her writing. Suddenly, the tip of her feather pen snapped in half. “Cratchit! Get over here!” Featherneezer demanded. Cratchit obliged, and Featherneezer pulled out one of Cratchit’s feathers. “Ouch!” Fluttershy squealed. Coop frowned at her and she returned to her desk. “I never let ponies have the day off!” Featherneezer exclaimed, dipping the yellow feather into the ink and continuing to write. “But tomorrow is Christmas!” Cratchit implored. Coop rolled her eyes. “Fine. You can have tomorrow off, but I expect you to work double hours the day after to make up for it!” Cratchitt smiled. “Thank you so much, ma’am!” she said, hugging Coop. Coop pushed her away. “Get out of here before I change my mind!” “Right away, ma’am,” said Cratchitt, scurrying out the door. “Humbug,” said Featherneezer. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She walked over and answered to find some ponies collecting money for charity. “Charity? Are there no poorhouses?” Coop laughed, slamming the door shut as the curtain fell. “Little did Coop know that she was about to be in for a big surprise. Cratchitt was visiting with her family in Spells and had told them all about the situation.” Rarity, who was playing Cratchitt’s sister-in-law, sat at a table with Cratchitt and Applejack, who was playing Cratchitt’s other sister-in-law. “I say, Cratchitt. Why do we never get to visit you in Wingland?” asked Rarity. “Aye. We always have Christmas dinner in Scoffland or Spells, but nae ever in Wingland.” “Well, it’s because of my boss, Featherneezer Coop. She’s such a meanie! She only likes pegasi, and hates earth ponies and unicorns, so they could never set hoof in Wingland. Otherwise, she’d throw apples at them until they left. Also, she hates Christmas, so would probably rip down all my decorations. Actually, I think she just hates everything, full stop.” “Hah, I’d like to see her try to kick me out,” said Applejack. “Quite. You really shouldn’t put up with her, Cratchitt. We ought to teach her a lesson!” said Rarity. "And so it was that the three family members conspired to put the mean old Featherneezer Coop in her place. We join her on Christmas Eve in her flat as she is eating a bowl of goop.” Featherneezer was eating a bowl of goop, putting the spoon in her mouth with all the enthusiasm of a foal eating spinach. Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door. “Who is it?” No answer. “Who is it?” No answer again. “Cooooop…” a voice said. “If it’s carolers, I’m not amused!” she said. Suddenly, a glowing green pony floated right through the door, carrying chains. “Who are you?” asked Coop. It was Rarity, who was using magic to disguise herself as a ghost. “Coooop… It’s me, your old business partner.” “You wot, mate?” asked Featherneezer. “I never partnered with anypony else, particularly with a hornhead unicorn like you. Whatever this ruse is, it’s none too clever.” “Uh…” said the ghost. Then she muttered. “Bollocks. Cratchit said that you had a partner.” “Oh, did she?” asked Coop. “Well, I always talk about how I’m such a brilliant businessmare that I’m the equivalent of two ponies. My partner is me. "That featherbrain Cratchitt was probably confused.” She grabbed a mirror and stroked her rainbow mane in it, smiling at herself. Then, she put her two hooves together and shook them up and down. "It's a pleasure doing business with me!" Rarity rolled her eyes. “Well, regardless, you will be visited by three spirits this evening, just like me,” Rarity said. “Oh, you mean three ponies dressed up in costumes like yours, then? Ones that are about as convincing as a paper bag?” “Uh… I’m not a pony; I’m a ghooooost! Wooooo!” “Pfft,” said Coop. “Send your ponies already.” “Ghosts,” Rarity corrected. "And so it was that Coop’s old business partner left. The next day, Coop was visited by another 'ghost.'" Applejack walked over, dressed as a ghost. “I’m the ghost of Christmas Earth Pony,” said Applejack. “No, you’re just an earth pony wearing a white sheet,” said Coop, pulling the sheet off of Applejack. “Bloody hell,” Applejack said, her true identity revealed. “Listen, I don’t have all day,” Coop scoffed. “I already know what Cratchitt’s put you up to. You’re going to all come and try to convince me to keep the spirit of Christmas in me heart and to love all three races of ponies and not to litter and look both ways before I cross the street. Aren’t you?” “Aye,” said Applejack, looking down at the ground, embarrassed at her identity being revealed. “Well it’s not going to work!” Coop exclaimed, stomping her hoof into the ground. “I say bah humbug to Christmas. Christmas is an over-commercialized holiday that comes much too earlier and earlier every year, overstays its welcome for months and leaves neither pound nor pence in your pocket. The stores all crowd with masses of ponies and one has to wait in a queue for seven hours instead of the usual five just to buy some over-priced poppycock.” Applejack blinked, not saying anything. “Your in-laws all invite themselves to stay at your flat, and then you’re expected to take off work to go do things with them, as if you haven’t got a life of your own. And then they mooch off of you and ask you for money because they’re all worthless spendthrifts who never bothered to put a single pound in the bank, instead opting to spend it all at the pub.” Applejack stared down at the floor. “Also, there’s only about ten bloody Christmas songs that ever play on the radio, and by the time when December 25th rolls around you’re so sick and tired of them that you want to piece your own eardrums with a lightning bolt. And don’t get me started on picking out a ruddy tree. Sap gets everywhere, and the pine needles stay in your carpet for months. I’d get a plastic one but then I’m sure you do-gooder ‘ghosts’ would chide me when it inevitably ends up in a landfill somewhere.” Applejack opened her mouth to speak, but Coop continued, “I’m not finished! And that’s another thing. I know you 'ghost' types well enough. You were going to tell me that if I don’t play nice and kiss up to Christmas, I’m going to die and end up dead just like you pretend to be. What exactly was supposed to kill me, anyway? My black heart? Or were you going to off me yourselves? So being a murderer is preferable to not liking the worst holiday of them all?” "Nae, we were only gonnae--" "Shut your stupid Scoffish mouth. You want to know why I don't like earth ponies or unicorns? Because of your languages. Scoffish and Spelsh put far too many consonants together with not enough vowels. 'Wyn plngh dsarfgth eil plvawtfrn' is not a proper sentence. When earth ponies and unicorns all learn to speak Winglish, maybe I'll consider being polite towards you. Until then, bugger off!" “Sorry,” said Applejack, leaving the room. “And so it was that, their plans foiled, Cratchitt and her relatives had Christmas dinner in Spells after all.” “Well, that didn’t turn out all that well, did it?” said Rarity. “Nae,” said Applejack. “She saw right through us, she did.” “Well, at least we all got to spend time together as a family,” said Cratchitt. “And the three races being together is what Christmas is truly about,” said Rarity. “Celestia bless us, everypony!” said Tiny Tim. ”And so it was that this is the end of the story,” said Simon as the curtain fell. “Hang on a minute,” said a pony in the crowd. “How were the races united, then?” “Oh, that?” answered Simon. “Hundreds of years of relentless wars, thousands of deaths, and bitterness which lingers even to this day. And the languages of Spelsh and Scoffish are now almost entirely dead.” And that’s how the United Kingdom of Great Equestria and Northern Sapphireland was made.