Off the coast of Tall Tale: May 2023
“Brace for impact!”
General Soarin clutched a metal bar with his hooves as the deck shook violently, throwing officers across the room. The booming of the explosion resounded through the ship, and Soarin’s ears shrieked with a high-pitched ringing.
Grey smoke rose from several of the terminals and pipes as a red light blared and a screeching alarm sounded. Yet another explosion threw Soarin across the room. He flapped his wings and became airborne, just missing colliding with a wall.
Reorienting himself, he gazed out of the starboard window to see the zebra destroyer firing its cannons and guns at the HMS Starswirl. The windows shattered inward. Soarin winced and covered his eyes with his wings as glass shards flew everywhere.
He was unharmed, save for a few bits of glass in his mane. Soarin quickly returned to his hooves, rushing rushed back towards his post on the center of the bridge.
“Status report!”
“We’re receiving casualty reports throughout the ship, sir!” one of his officers reported.
“Heavy flooding reported on the engine deck!” another officer yelled, one of his ears pressed against a sound-powered phone. “They’re trying to bail the water, but it just keeps coming in, sir!”
Soarin narrowed his eyes. “Nav, evasive maneuvers!” he commanded.
The navigator wrestled with the wheel at the helm, the engine creaking and groaning under the pressure as the waterlogged ship struggled to turn. It inched along at a snail’s pace as Soarin gritted his teeth.
Another explosion shook the deck. Soarin felt the floor rumbling and slowly sinking below him. He instinctively took to his wings as it sunk slowly further, the floor slanting towards the aft.
“Bailing operations unsuccessful! The hull is breached! Sinking imminent, sir!”
“Order evacuation procedures!”
The second-in-command grabbed the microphone and spoke over the intercom, “Commence evacuation procedures. This is not a drill, repeat: this is not a drill.”
The officers poured through the exit doors of the bridge as the ship violently shook. Pegasi flew up to the top and escaped through a hatch door in the roof, and the unicorns teleported away. Some of the earth ponies slipped and slided on the now-inclined floor, but the pegasi helped them out and they all managed to escape.
Once outside, Soarin winced his eyes in the bright sunlight as he and his officers ran down a metal staircase towards the senior officers’ lifeboat stationed on the port deck. It was a small boat, containing six seats. The ponies piled into the boat. The water slowly inched further up as the deck itself became submerged. The lifeboat floated in the water, the waves surrounding it, as an officer cut the cable attaching the lifeboat to the carrier. Untethered, it floated in the waves.
Soarin glanced back at the ship just in time to see the bridge and upper decks became slowly submerged, and ponies all throughout rushing to escape.
“Let’s hope they remembered those evacuation drills that we practiced,” said the second-in-command.
“There’s no other option,” said Soarin.
A few minutes later, the ship was entirely submerged underwater. Some of the ponies who had still been trapped at the time of sinking came up to the surface of the sea, gasping for breath. The pegasi went to retrieve them and put them into some of the dozens of lifeboats.
Soarin’s eyes widened as he saw the Zebra destroyer closing in on the wreckage of the ship. The zebra deckhooves grabbed assault rifles and sniper rifles, and fired shots off at the survivors, hitting several of the wounded. The bow cannons fired into the water as explosions ripped apart a lifeboat, sanding screaming ponies flying into the water.
A bullet hit the engine on the officers’ lifeboat, and oil leaked out into the water. Soarin and his officers ducked as the wood and metal of the lifeboat was peppered with more bullets.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” one of the officers urged.
Another officer pulled the string on the engine. It merely sputtered and failed to start, instead spitting out more oil.
“It’s completely broken!” he exclaimed.
Soarin glanced at a lieutenant pegasus. “Lieutenant Fleetwing, you know what to do!”
Soarin flew up into the air and grabbed some rope attached to the bow. Of the two rope ends, he tossed one to Fleetwing, and tied the other around his torso. Fleetwing did the same.
“Let’s fly!”
They both flew off away from the zebra destroyer, dragging the crippled boat along with them as quickly as they could towards the shore. The other lifeboats followed them, though thankfully, the other boats still had intact engines.
Bullets splashed in the water behind the lifeboats as they outran the slower zebra destroyer. The towering, beige skyscrapers of Tall Tale were just barely visible off in the distance. Soarin’s heart skipped a beat. There was now nothing protecting the city from the Zebra destroyer fleet.
Once the survivors were a short distance from the city and could see the docks, Soarin took to the air, flying above the fleet of lifeboats, barking orders.
“Alright, troops, listen up! The H.M.S. Starswirl was the only thing standing in between the zebra fleet and Tall Tale. We can’t allow them to close in on the city! Pegasus fighters, you are to engage the enemy and prevent them from advancing for as long as possible, while the others are to continue in the lifeboats and retreat to the naval base in Tall Tale, where we will begin a counter-attack. Dismissed!”
The troops saluted. The pegasi took off from the lifeboats, grabbing assault rifles and flying off towards the zebra destroyers.
General Soarin sighed. He knew that the mission had little chance of success. The zebras had proven a formidable foe during the past few months. Their ships were heavily armored and their troops were fierce, and they had taken out pegasus carrier after carrier while suffering minimal losses of their own.
The Equestrian navy was woefully unprepared, equipped with a fleet of fifty-year-old ships. Many of them were still made of wood; the Starswirl had been one of the few newer steel battleships. Before the Second Kingdom and Zebra Empire attacked, Equestria had been at peace for centuries, so had little need for a large, modern blue water navy.The zebras, on the other hoof, had been fighting wars with the gryphons for years, and had the latest military technology.
Soarin and Fleetwing pulled their boat towards the dock in Tall Tale, flying as fast as they could and hoping that the pegasi could buy them enough time. General Soarin, his officers, and his earth pony and unicorn troops arrived on the Tall Tale naval dock in the next ten minutes. They piled out of their lifeboats and onto the docks, rushing into the barracks, preparing for the imminent onslaught.
Air raid sirens, normally reserved for dragon attacks, blared through the streets of downtown Tall Tale, and the residents scurried for cover in storm cellars and under benches. The ponies in the naval base scurried into the bomb shelter, closing the steel door behind them.
Soarin stayed above, gazing out the window of the barracks as he saw the destroyer within a few hundred meters of the port of Tall Tale. It turned to face its starboard side towards the city, and light flashed from its cannons as missiles flew towards the naval base.
Barrage after barrage of missile flew towards the city, knocking into skyscrapers and buildings as yet more Zebra ships arrived.
Downtown Manehattan: June 2023
On the opposite coast of Equestria, the bustling traffic on the streets of Manehattan moved to and fro through the cris-cross grid of the city. Taxi drivers yelled, street cart vendors shouted, and ponies chatted with each other as they trotted off to work, to lunch, home, or any number of other places. The midday sun shone high in the sky, reflecting off of dozens of skyscrapers across the skyline. Steam wafted off of clothes hung out to dry across clotheslines strung between tower windows.
It was Equestria’s most populous city, the city that never slept, and, as of few years ago, Equestria’s capital. The newly erected Equestrian Capitol Building looked more like a modern office complex than Celestia’s royal palace of old. It was a square building which rose ten stories high. Though overshadowed by some of the other buildings in the city, the Equestrian flag nevertheless flew proudly on a flagpole in front of the building, as well as one at the top.
In Celestia’s time, Canterlot had a local ordinance which banned the construction of any buildings higher than the castle spire, but Manehattan had been a city since before the capitol was relocated there. The older, taller skyscrapers were grandfathered in under the previous rules.
Rather than sitting at a throne room, which she found passé, Twilight Sparkle instead sat inside of a modestly-sized office on the top floor. She could gaze out the window and see most of the city, as well as the east coast of Equestria. Unlike her predecessor Celestia, and unlike King Blueblood, Princess Twilight didn’t much care for pomp and circumstance, preferring to conduct her royal duties in a routine office environment with file cabinets and desks for organizing business and affairs of the kingdom. She had no idea how the late Celestia had ever run a kingdom by sitting on a throne all day and listening to ponies’ complaints in her court.
Twilight levitated a metal ink pen in front of her as she wrote yet another letter on A4 white copy paper. Her old feather quills and parchment had gone the way of the candle light that she had used back in the Ponyville library when she used to live there. Gone, too, was the endless parade of ponies waiting for an audience with the princess in her royal court. Instead, Twilight had a new procedure to more efficiently address ponies’ concerns: all complaints were to be submitted in writing. With this, she was able to respond to far more ponies than Princess Celestia, and in half the time.
Though she was unelected, Twilight still felt the desire to be responsive to her subjects. Despite Blueblood’s self-proclaimed title as King, even he was elected, and with a high margin of victory at that. Though his more recent victories, Twilight suspected, were rigged. She had no idea how the leader of a starving and warmongering kingdom could maintain such high popular support and win election after election. Twilight was well aware that, if she failed in her duties as monarch, the ponies of Equestria would have absolutely no recourse short of open rebellion. So she determined not to fail.
Her horn strained as she put it down to rest for a moment. Perhaps she should’ve invested in a typewriter, but she had always found hornwritten letters to be more personal.
“Too bad that Spike is on vacation,” she sighed. She levitated a cup of tea up to her lips, taking a sip. She gazed out the window towards the ocean and the freighters and sailboats sailing in it. It was hard for her to believe that there was a war raging half a continent away.
She heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she said, setting down her tea.
General Spitfire walked through the door, saluting and removing her cap to reveal a sweaty orange mane.
“Have a seat, General Spitfire,” said Twilight. “You look exhausted.”
Spitfire nodded. “Sorry, I’ve been flying here all day from Tall Tale.”
“That’s alright,” said Twilight, offering a towel to Spitfire. The fiery pegasus graciously wiped her brow on it.
“News from the western front?” asked Twilight.
Spitfire sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not looking good, that’s for sure. We’ve had to divert resources away from containing the Second Kingdom in order to combat the zebras. We’ve been losing ponies left and right. They’ve been heavily shelling Tall Tale and Vanhoover; the cities have been under near-constant siege every day for a week. General Soarin’s navy is almost entirely gone. We need more ships and planes.”
Twilight nodded. “The factories in Fillydelphia are hard at work. In fact, I have a meeting coming up shortly to address just that.”
Spitfire sighed. “Though even if we get them, it might be too little, too late at this point. Ever since they overran our naval defenses at Tall Tale last month, the zebras have continued to land ground troops, and they now control vast swathes of the surrounding countryside, and have cut off many of our supply lines. They’re tough foes.”
Twilight Sparkle glanced behind Spitfire and noticed that Zecora stood in the doorway.
“Speaking of,” said Twilight. “Please, come in, Zecora.”
Zecora walked inside, bowing to Twilight Sparkle.
“Spitfire, I don’t think you and Zecora have ever met.” She motioned towards each of them. “Spitfire, Zecora. Zecora, Spitfire.”
Spitfire extended a hoof towards Zecora, smiling. “Twilight Sparkle has mentioned you before. So has Pound Cake. I was looking after him until the war started back up, and then I had to go to the front lines. But he’s a tough kid; he’ll make it on his own. Anyway, he sent me a letter a few weeks ago telling me all about how he was doing. He mentioned he was in Appleloosa, and he met you, and that you were looking after his sister in the Everfree. Nice to finally meet you in real life, Zecora.”
“What a small world, and the pleasure is mine as well!” she said, shaking Spitfire’s hoof. Then, she turned towards Twilight. “Princess Twilight, did you have something to tell?”
“Oh, right,” said Twilight Sparkle, clearing her throat. “Spitfire, I’ve told you about Zecora’s background in the Zebra Empire, and why she was forced to flee the country.”
“Yeah,” said Spitfire. “I think I remember that. I couldn’t really blame you, Zecora. That place sounds messed up.”
“It is ‘messed up’ in every way, this is true. If I never go back, it will be too soon,” Zecora shuddered.
Twilight blushed, and then sheepishly scratched her head with her hoof. “Well… you see…”
Zecora narrowed her eyes.
“Yeah, uh… I’m gonna need you to go ahead and go back to the Zebra Empire.”
Zecora raised an eyebrow. “What for? Have you not heard that there is a war?”
Twilight put up a hoof. “No. Wait, I mean, yes, there is a war. I’m well aware.”
“I’ve been telling Twilight all about it, in fact,” said Spitfire, turning to Zecora. “The Zebra Empire is making serious gains on the west coast of Equestria, shelling all of the major cities. They don’t even care if they kill civilians at all. In fact, I think that they try to. For all its faults, at least the Second Kingdom doesn’t recklessly fire into cities.”
Zecora shook her head, gazing at the floor.
Spitfire continued, “The Zebra Empire, along with the Second Kingdom, who have taken all of the Everfree River, have cut off the western part of Equestria by encircling it. Now it’s separated from the east, where Fillydelphia, Manehattan, and the other big cities are.”
Zecora nodded. “I have seen the unicorns come into the Everfree before. I wasn’t aware of my former nation’s role in the western theater of the war.”
Spitfire continued, “Since they’ve taken the Everfree River, the only good way to get reinforcements over to the west is to have pegasi fly the reinforcements from here and over the Second Kingdom, but that’s hostile territory, and we’re short on Pegasi, since so many of them defected to the Cloud Confederacy.”
“I see, and that is why I am speaking to you two,” said Zecora. “What is it that you want me to do?”
Twilight said, “I’m familiar with your past, and as I understand, you had access to Emperor Zaporizhia.”
Zecora nodded.
“Can you get access to him again?”
Zecora pursed her lips. “It would be very hard, I will not lie. But I believe that I can if I try.”
Twilight continued, “From what you’ve told me, and from the limited military intelligence we have on the Zebra Empire, the zebras worship Zaporizhia and believe him to be a physical manifestation of god, yes?”
“Most of them did, a few did not. They were foolish, for an atheist zebra will be shot. I never let them know my own nonbelief; if I had, I surely would now be six feet deep.”
“Well, if the Zebras were shown that Zaporizhia is just a mortal zebra, able to die...” Twilight started.
“...and if they were shown that the consequence of attacking our cities is for us to attack theirs…” Spitfire added.
Zecora pursed her lips. “I believe that I understand. You two have an assassination plan.”
“Actually,” Twilight said, pausing a moment, “it’s just theoretical at this point. There’s no actual plan to assassinate him, because we’re not sure of how it could be done. The pegasus scouts that we’ve sent over have either been shot out of the sky, or they couldn’t see inside of the Emperor’s palace. If, in fact, we even had the right building at all.”
Zecora nodded. “I could get inside. The question is, do you want only him to die? Or shall I take out others as well? Please, do tell.”
Spitfire said, “Well, take out as many as you can, obviously, but I really want to see something completely demoralizing done to them. Like, some sort of larger attack. Something that will discourage those zebra zealots in their army and give us the upper hoof.”
Zecora smiled. “Well, I believe that I have a hunch. But at the very least, it will take a few months. Perhaps even years, to be fair. But the damage I would do would put the Empire beyond repair.”
“Okay, but try to hurry,” said Spitfire, crossing her hooves. “Our troops are getting eaten alive out there.”
“As will the zebras, but in due time. You have my word that they will pay for their crimes.”
“Thank you, Zecora,” said Twilight. Then, her eyes widened as she gazed at the grandfather clock up on the wall.
“Look at the time! Zecora, I’d love to stop and talk, but I have another meeting to go to, so we’ll have to wait,” said Twilight, frantically rummaging through her desk with her magic.
Zecora chuckled. “It is quite alright, Princess Twilight.”
“I’ll see you both in a bit!” Twilight promised, gathering together some papers and rushing out the door.
In a conference table on a different floor of the same capitol building in Manehattan, a small group of ponies sat. The stallions wore nice suits and ties, and the mares wore fancy dresses.
A dark grey unicorn pony glanced at his watch, sighing as he tapped his foot.
“I have a factory to run,” he said. “I know that she’s the princess, but she should at least be on time!”
“Well, I have patients back at the hospital,” said a tan-coated, chocolate-maned stallion in a white lab coat.
“And ah have cherries to get to harvestin’,” said a cream-colored mare with a maroon mane.
“What are we all doing here, anyway?” asked the doctor.
The conference room door opened as Twilight rushed through, papers floating in her magic. She teleported over to the head of the table and set her papers down in front of her.
“Sorry that I’m late,” she said, catching her breath.
“It’s quite alright, Miss Twilight; we know that you have a kingdom to run,” said a beige pony with a sleek, jet-black mane and baggy eyes. An unlit cigar hung between his teeth, which spread wide in a grin.
“So, Filthy Rich, since this meeting was your idea, how about you fill everypony in on its purpose?” asked Twilight, motioning towards him with a hoof.
“Alright, then,” said Filthy Rich, slicking back his hair and sitting forward in his chair. “This is the first meeting of the Equestrian Economic Council. As some of you may know, the war isn’t exactly going in our favor. I believe it is because we aren’t promoting businesses and encouraging factories to make weapons and armor, farmers to grow food, and doctors to tend to the wounded.
“We’re here today to ensure that Equestria can win the war by getting our economy and industry running. So, I’ve picked out the best and brightest of Equestria’s business leaders to join us here, and make suggestions to Miss Sparkle here about what we can do to help the war effort by helping the economy.”
“We don’t want to be like the Second Kingdom, with all of their food shortages and bankrupt factories that are only kept running at gunpoint,” said Twilight Sparkle. “We want to have a healthy economy.”
“So,” Filthy Rich began, smiling. “Let’s start with you, Jet Set and Upper Crust.”
“Well,” said Jet Set, a steel grey unicorn with a charcoal mane, “I know a lot about the Second Kingdom, since my wife and I used to run an airplane and munitions factory there. At first, Blueblood was our best customer. But as the economy started to falter, he kept demanding steeper and steeper discounts, and told us that it was our ‘racial duty’ as unicorns to make his warplanes no matter the price he demanded. We were supposed to care more about the so-called master race than money, and being ‘liberated, racially-conscious unicorns’ was supposed to be payment enough.”
He scoffed, waving his hoof in the air mockingly.
“As much as Jet Set and I are proud to be unicorns, we weren’t proud to be running an unprofitable business that was hemorrhaging money,” said the azure-maned, lemon-coated Upper Crust, pausing for a moment as she levitated a cup of tea to her lips. “We fled for Fillydelphia and opened up a new war factory.”
“As for our suggestions,” said Jet Set, “we can start off with higher prices being paid for the products that we sell to the Equestrian government. Somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty thousand bits per plane and ten million bits per warship would be more than enough to grease the wheels.”
Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Twenty thousand? Ten million? Our treasury can’t afford that without deficit spending!”
Jet Set nodded. “If you have to go into deficit spending to buy our planes, that’s fine, because then you will make it all back when the economy starts growing, as it does in wars. Think of how much money that will pump back into the economy. Our fighters deserve only the best planes and warships, after all.”
Twilight scribbled this down. “I see.”
“We also could use some legal changes,” said Upper Crust. “For one, our workers aren’t willing to work as hard as we need them to. You want us to produce more airplanes, warships, and munitions, yes?”
Twilight nodded.
Upper Crust continued, “Well, you can start by assisting us in breaking a strike. You see, our employees have been striking over the past few weeks. We pay them plenty, but they insist that they should work fewer hours. We haven’t been able to get them back to work. Get them off the streets and back into the factory. Send the riot police in if you have to. And furthermore, collective bargaining is a waste of money. Help us disband the unions, outlaw exclusive union agreements, and we’ll be more profitable.”
Twilight started, “Well, I don’t know if I should allocate state resources to breaking a strike--”
“Trust us, you should,” Jet Set interrupted. “We’ve made millions of bits doing this; Upper Crust and I know what we’re doing.”
“We’ll gently nudge them in the right direction,” said Twilight Sparkle, writing it down.
“Good!” said both Jet Set and Upper Crust in unison.
The meeting continued in the same manner, with the other representatives of other sectors of the economy weighing in and giving their opinions. Twilight reassured them that she’d take all of the measures into careful consideration.
Appleloosa: August 2023
A soft breeze rustled through the apple trees in New Sweet Apple Acres as the sun has just barely begun to peek over the eastern horizon. The rooster crowed as the animals awoke from their slumber. Songbirds were whistling their morning tunes, and voles and jackrabbits were climbing out of their burrows. It was, by any account, a peaceful and serene morning.
But those never last for long.
“No way you win this, sis!”
The rabbits scurried back into their holes as a tan and brown blur whooshed by, shaking the apples and leaves from an entire row of trees. Birds scurried from the trees and flew off in all directions. Several of the apples on the trees fell to the ground, scattering all about.
“Pssh. Look at how many of those that you’re leaving on there. You’ll have to make several passes at those trees, and then you’ll have to come and pick every apple up from the ground and put them into the baskets. By then, I’ll have two entire rows done.”
A blue glow surrounded every single apple on one of the trees as they floated off and neatly piled into the baskets below.
“Slow and steady wins the race,” Pumpkin Cake added, heading off to the next tree and repeating the process over again, horn aglow.
Pound flew back, making another pass as yet more of the still lingering apples fell off the tree.
“Yeah, this isn’t a fairy tale,” said Pound, chuckling. “I’m already almost done with my row. And as I remember you saying, it’s not easy to grab so many objects with magic all at once.”
“I’ve been practicing my magic. As long as you don’t break my concentration by flying around all over the place, it’s a cinch,” said Pumpkin, narrowing her eyes as she completed tree number two and moved onto the third.
“This is a contest, Pumpkin! I’ll distract you all I want!”
Pound flew in front of Pumpkin, zipping around and around her head like a fly. Pumpkin sighed, her horn lighting up, and her brother found himself frozen in place.
“It’s no contest! We’re just helping out Applejack,” she reminded, as the third tree’s apples slowly but steadily floated off. “I mean, she’s been nice enough to let us stay here for the past three months for nothing in return. Don’t you think that we should contribute, that we shouldn’t freeload? We should do a good job no matter how long it takes.”
“Eh,” said Pound, shrugging. “I guess.”
Pumpkin nodded. “Then let’s get back to work and do a good job.”
Pound flew off and continued his method of zipping through the trees and forcing the apples off through shockwaves, and Pumpkin continued telekinetically grabbing many of them at a time.
Pound finished all of his rows a few hours later, and then flew off to Pumpkin to brag, as she still had an entire row to go. Though he insisted that he had finished before her, she walked over to his side of the orchard and inspected the trees, still finding a few apples either stuck on the trees or scattered on the ground, not in baskets like the others. She insisted that he hadn’t truly finished the job and that the race, if ever there was one, was actually still on. Pound begrudgingly combed his rows over again as Pumpkin worked on finishing hers.
In the end, they both finished at around the same time, but were on opposite ends of the orchard. They both rushed to the center of the field, each bragging at their accomplishment, but with no exact way to know who won. Who exactly finished first would remain a contentious debate for many minutes to come, at which point it would be promptly forgotten by the next bit of sibling rivalry to arise between the twins.
A short time after the twins finished, Applejack and Big Macintosh walked out of the sliding glass door and onto the back patio. Applejack’s mouth opened wide in a yawn; her felt white sleeping stetson still sat atop her head. Her eyes were still half closed, and she wiped the sleep from them as she struggled against the blinding sunlight to open them.
“Don’t y’all know it’s sunday? It’s a day of rest ‘round here…” her voice trailed off as she yawned again.
Big Macintosh interrupted, “Uh, AJ...”
Applejack looked out at the orchard and she blinked several times as she saw that every tree was bare, and all the apples were in baskets on the ground.
“What the hay? All the apples are harvested!” Applejack exclaimed.
“But who coulda…” Big Macintosh started, his voice trailing off.
Then Applejack exclaimed, “The apple elves! I knew they were real!”
But suddenly Pound flew over, while Pumpkin teleported in front of them in a flash of light.
“Surprise!” they both shouted in unison.
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Y’all did this?”
The twins nodded, grins on their faces.
“Land sakes! How?”
“We’re just quick,” said Pound.
“And where did y’all get all these baskets? We only have a dozen or so; but I see at least three baskets for each of the hundreds of trees,” said Applejack.
“Well…” Pumpkin started, but then raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I don’t know. Pound, how did we get all these baskets?”
“Oh, I just flew around before dawn and borrowed them from some nearby apple orchards. It’s Sunday anyway, like you said. I’ll have them back before they’re missed.”
Applejack chuckled. “Well, that ain’t exactly the most honest thing to do, but I know most of the neighbors ‘round here, and I don’t think they’ll mind.”
“Eeyup,” said Big Macintosh.
“I still can’t believe that y’all harvested all these apples in a single mornin’. It woulda taken Big Macintosh and I at least a few days. I mean, we had less baskets to work with and hafta make back and forth trips to the cellar, but even still!”
“Well,” Pumpkin started, “Blueblood does say that unicorns are the master race. Maybe he’s right.”
There was only silence at Pumpkin’s joke. She blushed slightly, shirking back. Then, all four ponies burst out laughing.
Ponyville, August 2023
A large crowd of ponies gathered in the town square of Ponyville, murmuring among each other. They had seen posters hung up all over the town the last few days, advertising an announcement to be made in the town square. The posters hadn’t been hung in the unicorn section of town, so the only unicorns who were present were those who had wandered over to see what the commotion was about.
A giant wooden stage had been set up in the town square, reminiscent of a certain great and powerful mare who had taken her stage show to Ponyville some fifteen years prior, only to be humiliated by an ursa minor. This stage, however, had red instead of blue curtains. And it was slightly taller. Also, it was guarded by two unicorns on either side, dressed in all black and levitating assault rifles in a threatening manner to keep the crowd in check.
“So when’s the announcement? You’re already twenty minutes late! Some master race you are, not even keeping track of the ti--”
One of the unicorns on stage pointed his assault rifle towards the recalcitrant earth pony, who got the message and quit speaking.
Meanwhile, the Second Kingdom ministers Flim and Flam stood backstage.
“Flim, you need to adjust your tie,” said Flam. His horn lit up as he adjusted his brother’s bow tie.
“Ah, thank you, Flam,” said Flim. “Your hat is on a little crooked.”
“Is it?” asked Flam. He gazed in the mirror. “By jove, you’re right! Good catch!” He straightened it.
“So, do you have our speech memorized at all?” asked Flim.
“Well, my portions of it, yes,” said Flam, nodding.
“Your portions?” Flim’s pupils dilated. “Flam, you were supposed to give the entire speech by yourself! Your voice is far more sultry and encouraging than mine!”
“We’re twin brothers. Twins do everything together, do they not? Harvest apples together? Fight wars together? Give speeches together?” asked Flam.
“Yes, but not this particular speech! Propaganda Minister Fancy Pants wrote it for us, and it’s a serious speech that’s meant to inspire calm before the bad news that we have to tell these ponies, that we’re going to be taking all of their apples for the winter!”
“Pfft,” Flam scoffed, waving his hoof in the air. “What does that old geezer know about putting on a good show? Did he ever sell a hundred bottles of worthless tonic in a single day? Did he ever scam an entire island town by closing down the only bridge and demanding gemstones to repair it?”
“Well, no, he didn’t,” said Flim. “But Fancy Pants did sell a lot of copies of Blueblood’s magic book and Blueblood’s autobiography…”
Flam took a step towards his brother. “Yes, and do you know why? Because Blueblood’s magic book is actually useful and contains real magic spells that ponies can actually use. Like it or not, we’re scam artists, Flim. Sure, we can engineer useful things too, but who wants to make a living that way? I mean, Blueblood still hasn’t even paid us for all of those mechanical tractors and combine harvesters that we made for those young unicorn fillies and colts to farm with.”
“Oh, of course he paid us,” said Flim, chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “You mean to say that being a proud member of the unicorn master race isn’t payment enough for you?”
“I already was a unicorn before!” exclaimed Flam, pointing towards his horn. “My point still remains, though. We’re about to scam this town out of all of its food. Should we use Fancy Pants’ reencouraging speaking technique, or our song and dance scamming technique?”
“Hmm…” said Flim, scratching his chin. “I see your point.”
The curtain rose, and the murmuring crowd became silent as Flim and Flam walked out onto the stage.
Flam put a record on a phonograph machine, lifted the needle, and a zippy tune began to play. Then, he sung.
“Welcome town of Ponyville to see our humble show.
My brother Flim and I have something we want you to know.
A terrible disaster has befallen ponykind
We need your help to make it well, so won’t you please be kind?”
Flim trotted up onto the stage and sang the next four lines.
“This little town of Ponyville, it has its rustic charm.
My brother Flam and I hope not to cause you false alarm.
You see all of the apples hanging all around the trees?
Such luscious harvest isn’t that way everywhere, you see.”
Flim and Flam pointed off into the distance where the apple orchards stood, including the former Sweet Apple Acres as well as other farms in Ponyville. All of the trees had plump, juicy apples ready for harvest.
“That’s right, Ponyville. Not all places in Equestria will have ripe, delicious apples to eat this winter,” spoke Flim.
“It’s a shame. There’s children starving in Zebrica, you know!” Flam exhorted.
“Not just Zebrica, my dear brother, but right here on the Equestrian continent itself!” Flim exclaimed, dramatically pointing with his hoof.
“You don’t say!” said Flam, putting his hooves up to his mouth in feigned shock. “Let’s enlighten everybody!”
They both sang.
“Yes everywhere you look you see far too much scarcity
We’re Flim and Flam, we’ve got a plan to run a charity.
How can you all eat oh so much when there’s others in need?
Please be kind and give a slice to your fellow pony!”
Unlike the previous times they had done their songs, nopony in the crowd sung along with them. Instead, they all stood silently, many of them with their arms crossed, most with frowns on their faces, some of them yawning.
Undeterred by this cold reception, Flam spoke, “Now, you see, in the town of Hollow Shades, there are plenty of bayou ponies with missing teeth, a third grade education, and not enough gumbo in their pot! And after the hurricane--”
“That’s right, the starving and famished town of Hoofington is--” Flim started. “Wait a minute. I thought we were doing Hoofington, Flam.”
“No, we’re doing Hollow Shades! It’s the perfect one to do! Even the name sounds depressing!”
“Well, alright,” Flim conceded. “This food will go to the starving residents of Hoofington!”
Their flubbing aside, everypony in the audience still knew full well that the food would go straight to the Second Kingdom.
Since the Flim Flam brothers had taken too long to remember the “correct” town, while they were still talking, the record had started to play the part where they were supposed to be singing the chorus. Realizing that they had to play catchup, they started hastily singing from the middle.
--all eat oh so much when there’s others in need?
Please be kind and give a slice to your fellow pony!”
Flam spoke, “Now, this terrible famine would be over in five minutes if you all would just each donate a thousand apples a piece, starting now...”
Unlike everything the brothers had said before, which had drawn little more than blank stares, this statement actually elicited a shocked gasp from the crowd.
“Scam artists!” one pony yelled.
“Liars and cheats!”
“Go back to the Second Kingdom and leave our town in peace! Ponyville is Equestria!” another yelled, getting applause.
“How about them apples?” said a pony, throwing an apple right at Flam, which was impaled on his horn.
He swatted it away with his hoof. “Get it off, Flim!”
Everypony laughed as they started grabbing rocks and bottles from the ground and throwing them up at the stage.
“Stupid unicorns!”
One of the guards fired off warning shots into the air. The other fired into the air as well, but was rushed by an earth pony who went to go knock over the phonograph and stop the annoying record. The guard, startled, turned his weapon on the earth pony, firing at him. The earth pony fell to the ground, bloodied.
The crowd screamed, with many of them running, and others jumping up onto the stage. The guards both turned their rifles into the crowd, unloading their magazines as several ponies fell to the ground. The rest of the crowd fled in terror, hiding in nearby alleys and backstreets. The guards simply stood their ground, holding their rifles at the ready.
“Well, this was a disaster,” said Flam, his freshly-pressed carnival shirt now covered in apple mush and blood spatters.
“Shall you tell them the truth, or should I?” asked Flam.
“You can, brother.”
Flam shouted into a megaphone so loudly that the whole town could hear.
“We’re taking all of the town’s food to give to the starving unicorns in the Second Kingdom! Deal with it and be shot!”
“Uh… don’t you mean, deal with it or be shot?” asked Flim, raising an eyebrow.
Flam glanced at the half dozen ponies lying on the ground, the trigger-happy guards standing cooly at attention as if nothing had happened, and at the now-empty town square in front of him.
“No, I meant what I said.”