Vee for Vendetta

by Melon Hunter

Vile Vying Vendor

“Now if that ain’t the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

Quango winced and tried to shield his ears from the verbal onslaught with his wings as best he could. The elderly golden stallion in front of him bristled with indignation, green eyes blazing and short cut orange mane bouncing in time to every syllable. “Sir, if I could just—”

“Now don’t you go trying to win me over with that sort of false subservience!”

“Golden Shred, then?”

“Who are you calling a ‘shred’?” Golden Shred bellowed. “You young whippersnapper! Trying to corral me like I’m a cow, then calling me names to boot?”

Quango nearly collapsed to the floor in despair. “Then what do you want me to call you?!” he wailed.

“Like I said before, use my trade name: Mister Marmalade!” Golden Shred said smugly, waving to the ornate, jar-filled cart hitched to him.

“Right…” Quango’s wings drooped to the ground and he rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t quite remember how long he’d been trapped in this personal hell, but it had to be upwards of half an hour. Worse still, this was the third time he’d had to ask this question, Golden Shred obviously revelling in his continuous abuse of his forced politeness.

Golden Shred rubbed his chin and pointed over Quango’s shoulder. “Now then, when are you going to let me into this special little area?”

A sigh escaped Quango’s mouth as he turned to see what Shred was referring to. Some of the market stalls now had a rope fence around them, with Sugar Watch agents standing at entrances. The Sugar-Absent Low-Tax Enrichment District: Veggie’s latest scheme, and possibly her most level-headed so far, seeing as it actually was in the remit of their original brief. She had dispatched some of the Sugar Watch earlier to divide the market up and create a zone where stall owners with healthy products could set up, allowing them to enjoy the tax cuts courtesy of the Royal Treasury, and allowing the customers to easily distinguish good food from bad. All well and good. In theory.

Of course, as with everything that sounded good on paper, it had gone spectacularly wrong almost as soon as it was created. Quango had to admire how even in a land ruled by the magic of friendship, creating haves and have-nots was a fast-track to naked hostility. Those inside the District went about their business with smug looks and snide remarks, making a show of adjusting their price signs to reflect their tax-free status. Those outside made do with toxic glares and vague resentful mutterings. His mouth twitched slightly as a grumbling pony with a triple-choc cookie cutie mark stomped past. This had all been part of the original plan, back from the halcyon pre-Sweet Tooth, pre-megalomanical-Veggie days, and even this was poisoning the mood of the town. Veggie would probably be satisfied no matter what happened on the way to cleansing Ponyville of its sugary vice, but Quango couldn’t help but feel a hint of despair at the damage that was being done. If this was causing all kinds of misery, what hope did they ever have of satisfying Red Tape?

He was jerked out of his melancholy by Golden Shred stamping a hoof in irritation. Oh yes, he was still there. Quite how Veggie had managed to overlook this, Quango had no idea, but the concept of an area that screamed ‘free money here’ had drawn the stall-owners like moths to a flame, and her haphazard rules on who got in weren’t helping. He’d heard every excuse in the book so far, from a mare who swore blind that her lamps emitted a special light that made you lose weight, to a couple of unicorns who claimed they were there to sell a bunch of invisi-berries and never mind the maple syrup they were also carrying. But then there was this larger-than-life pony, the one who was convinced that he was allowed in the District, and damn the consequences. Golden Shred was the untamed ocean to Quango’s pathetic rock outcrop; no matter how long he tried to hold out, he was eventually going to crumble into dust through sheer attrition.

“Si—” Quango began, before checking himself and beginning again. “Mister Marmalade.” He tried his best to ignore the chortling from the other market sellers. “While your interest in the Enrichment District is noted and appreciated, your products are ineligible for inclusion. As I have said, time and again, it is only for sellers with fruit or vegetable products.” He held a hoof up to stop the initial protest. “And besides, the market records do not seem to list you as a regular seller. Given that these tax cuts are marked out for Ponyville, I don’t see why a visiting seller should be initially included.”

“‘Fruit and vegetable products’?” Golden Shred boomed. “What d’ya think my marmalade is, boy? It’s packed full of oranges! Goodness!” He looked around the market. “And besides, I am a well-known fixture around Ponyville. Am I not, folks?” There were a series of triumphant whoops around him. “Just ‘cause I’m here every other month, doesn’t make me an opportunist. Just means I need to go to more than one town to sell my stock!”

Quango glared at him. “Regardless. This is marmalade. It’s a preserve, same as jam. And that means it’s shot through with sugar!” He made a show of tugging at the lapel of his jacket. “Now, as this District is run by the Sugar Watch, that’s an instant black mark!”

Shred gave another harsh, mocking wave of laughter, echoed by his cronies. He pulled a jar from his cart and unscrewed it, pressing it beneath Quango’s nose. The pegasus recoiled slightly, dazed by the overwhelming scent of citrus. “‘Full of sugar, huh? Maybe a little taste will change your mind!” Quick as a flash, the self-proclaimed ‘Mister Marmalade’ tossed a couple of bits to a stall owner making crêpes, whipping away one of the discs and spreading it with orange preserve. He rolled it up and pressed it into Quango’s mouth.

Quango nearly choked, not on any physical object, but on the sheer, offensive onslaught of concentrated orange. It blasted away at his taste buds and causing the back of his throat to burn, any sensation of sweetness lost in the cacophonies of sour and bitter aromas. He collapsed sideways, spluttering on his involuntary snack as a great cheer went up.

“See what I mean? Only thing my marmalade is shot through with is the shredded peel!” Golden Shred exclaimed. He turned about, revelling in his impromptu advertising. “It’s as bitter as Nightmare Moon’s hatred, sour as a spurned mare! And now only ten bits a jar, thanks to the Royal Treasury!” He chuckled as he walked past Quango into the District, leading a procession of other barred ponies in. “I knew you’d see sense in the end, boy.”

The disgusting crepe was spat out as Quango collapsed to the floor in defeat. He wanted to cry; all his sense of self-esteem and confidence having been worn away by Golden Shred’s cruel behaviour. Snivelling, he covered his face with his hooves, not wanting to be further humiliated by bursting into tears as a grown stallion in the middle of the street. He toyed with the idea of getting Veggie, half to see the devastating verbal broadsides each would inevitably send at the other, and half to get revenge and expose his superior to five minutes of the hellish half-hour he’d had. The rebellious thought soon faded, drowned out by apathy, and faint embarrassment at thinking of Veggie as some sort of big sister figure.

He rolled over on his back and stared at the sky with a groan. And then another, as his vision shifted slightly and he saw Big Macintosh selling apples. Applejack. He’d forgotten all about Applejack. He’d been shoved into keeping the ineligible sellers out of the market as soon as he’d arrived, shell-shocked Sugar Watch agents clinging to his higher rank as though it were a liferaft.

There had been three of them, but the bottom dropped out of his stomach as he realised that Cloudchaser and Flitter were nowhere to be seen. He snorted in disgust. Of course they weren’t. Probably some kind of petulant payback for overruling them in Sugarcube Corner the other day. Why in Equestria had Veggie paired him off with them again? In his mind, he tried to calculate the time it would take to flee to Manehattan and get a new identity. Probably preferable to going back to Vee, in any case. Then, his eyes widened as he saw his subordinates fluttering down from a cloud far above the market, yawning and stretching.

They landed in front of him, acting as though they hadn’t a care in the world. “Ahhh… did I ever need that nap,” Cloudchaser said. She smiled at Quango as he glared at her from the floor. “Wow, what happened to you?”

“Where is she?”

“Wha—” Cloudchaser squeaked in shock as Quango hauled her closer by the lapels of her jacket.

“Applejack! You know, the mare we were all supposed to accompany today?” His legs nearly collapsed underneath him as the two sisters gave him a blank look. “Please don’t tell me you were napping the whole time.”

Both sisters bit their lips and turned away. “Uh… okay. We won’t,” Flitter said uncomfortably.

“Great! Just great,” Quango snapped. That was that, then. Applejack had lost them, almost certainly to go and find Rarity and her other friends without the Sugar Watch breathing down her neck. He would be surprised if Veggie let him see the light of day again after this fiasco.

“Um… is there anything we can do?” Cloudchaser offered. “I mean, now we’re all rested and stuff.”

Quango took a breath to give his curt answer, but his attention was grabbed by a “Yoo hoo!” from behind him. His head whipped around, and he saw Pinkie Pie leaning out of an alleyway, waving and beckoning him over. “Hey, Quango! Can we talk?”

“Uh… just a second!” he called back. He turned his attention back to Cloudchaser and Flitter, noticing that the other Sugar Watch agents were apparently doing nothing to stop Golden Shred from practically claiming the District for himself. An idea suddenly came to him. “You see that pony selling marmalade?” The sisters nodded. “He shouldn’t be there, and neither should any of the other stall owners that followed him. You have my express permission to do anything to make him leave. And I mean anything. Shout, threaten, organise a militia, put a thundercloud over him and kick it repeatedly, I don’t care. Just make sure he’s gone.”

“But… but what if he complains? He looks pretty mean…” Flitter said trepidatiously.

Quango leaned in close, the last shreds of his politeness crumbling away. “Then you tell him ‘bite me’,” he growled.

Cloudchaser and Flitter took a step back, looked at each other and grinned at the carte blanche for mischief they’d been given. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this one sorted!” Cloudchaser exclaimed. “Do you mind if I get Thunderlane? He does a really good tough guy impression and I know he’s not technically part of the Watch but I’d—I mean, we’d—love to have him around and—”

“Fine! Fine!” Quango cut off Cloudchaser before she began to gush too much, Flitter already sniggering and nudging her. “Just get the job done.” The sisters nodded and dashed off.

He allowed himself to let out a deep sigh before mentally gearing up to face his next conversation. Quango trotted over to the alleyway, where Pinkie greeted him with a grin. “Pinkie! This literally couldn’t come at a worse time.”

“Really?” Pinkie rubbed her chin and looked skyward. “I mean, the moon could be falling, at least.”

“Well… uh…” He shook his head, suddenly remembering who Pinkie was friends with. “You haven’t seen Applejack around here, have you? I was supposed to be accompanying her today, but she’s, um, wandered off.”

“Applejack, huh?” Pinkie said slowly, shifting her weight from hoof to hoof. “Ehhh… I mean, I could give you a hint, but it’s kinda really secret.”

Quango raised an eyebrow. “Is it really,” he deadpanned.

“Uh huh!” Pinkie looked around conspiratorially, cupping a hoof over her mouth and leaning in. “We should probably talk in the back alleys so nopony overhears this,” she said in a low voice.

“Hears what?” Pinkie didn’t answer, instead spinning around and taking off into the alleyways. “Wait!” He hurried after her, desperately trying to keep track of her. He had trouble keeping up with Pinkie through the labyrinth of side streets, such was her pace. He skidded to a halt as he turned a corner and saw her stood stationary, smiling at him.

“Okay! This is just the spot!” Pinkie said. “Get ready for a big ol’ hint abou—wait, could you move about six inches forward?” Quango gave her a puzzled look, but obliged nonetheless, standing next to a crate. “Um… and move just a little bit left? While keeping right? Okay, hold it!” She took a deep breath and reared up on her hind legs, punching her forehooves back and forth. “Pew pew pew pew pew!”

“Pinkie, what is this?” Quango asked huffily, stepping back and half-unfurling his wings.

“The sign, silly! Dashie, go now!”

“Wh—” Quango’s question never left his mouth, as something suddenly shoved him sideways. He braced for impact with the crate, only for the spike of pain from his newly-found velocity to never come. Instead, the crate’s side fell inward, and then began to slide down a concealed tunnel as an impromptu sled, carrying one screaming pegasus atop it.

Quango clung to the wooden platform for dear life as he hurtled down the tunnel, descending into the bowels of Ponyville. His glasses spared his eyes the worst of the wind whipping past, but the fact it was going fast enough to cause that planted seeds of panic in his stomach.

Then, as abruptly as his sled ride started, it terminated. The wooden panel hit a lip on the floor of the tunnel, catapulting him forward. Quango tumbled end-over-end, before hitting a chair standing in the middle of the subterranean room. An unseen force pinned him to the furnishing and stopped him from falling over again. To his dismay, it also wrapped pieces of saltwater taffy around his forehooves, securing them to the arms of the chair. “Wh-where am I?” he asked, vision still blurred from his violent journey.

“Your worst nightmare,” a voice growled. Quango squeaked in fear as he saw an eerily-lit face appear in the gloom in front of him. He blinked a few times, realising that the face actually belonged to Spike, who was holding a torch beneath his chin. “Ha! Just kidding,” he continued. “This is Sugarcube Corner’s basement!”

“Right…” Quango looked around the room, eyes gradually adjusting to the low light. He blanched as he saw the other three ponies in the room. “Applejack! There you are!” he exclaimed, partially relieved that he’d at least found her, even if he was currently tied to a chair. She simply nodded curtly in reply. He looked over a timid-looking pegasus he couldn’t recall having talked to before, and finally set his sights on a rather familiar and extremely irate-looking unicorn. “Oh, and you must be Rarity…” he said weakly.

“Charmed.” Rarity’s voice held all the warmth of a glacier. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the tunnel exit as the noise of another sled began emanating from it.

A moment later, Pinkie leapt out into the room, closely followed by a rainbow-maned pegasus. “Alright! Best pranking team ever!” she exclaimed, exchanging a hoof bump with Pinkie.

“You bet, Dashie!”

Quango stared at the pair, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. “This was all a prank? Just to get me into this basement?”

“Heh, wouldn’t you know it?” the pegasus said. From Pinkie’s pet name of ‘Dashie’, Quango could only assume this was Rainbow Dash. Although from the look she was giving him, she would have more appropriately been Rainbow Death. “Guess that’s what happens when you go around snatching fillies.”

“Wait, you think I’m responsible for Sweetie Belle being taken away?” Quango asked incredulously. He looked up at Applejack. “Please, tell them the truth. Tell me you’re not in on all of this,” he pleaded.

“Pretty elaborate, huh?” Applejack said, grinning. “Took a mighty fine bit of effort to give you the slip earlier! Ah’m just glad Golden Shred was so good at keepin’ you occupied!”

Finally, awfully, the safety valve on Quango’s temper came flying off, possessing him with the sort of rage normally reserved for the monsters who stole lunches from the office fridge. “You what?” he growled. “Let me get this straight: in revenge for Veggie detaining Sweetie Belle, you constructed an elaborate plan to imprison me in Sugarcube Corner with equal illegitimacy, and blamed me for Veggie’s misdemeanors, and set upon me the rudest, most soul-crushingly awful pony I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet?”

“That’s right!” Pinkie chirped.

There was a moment’s silence, a terrible calm before the storm. And then, “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PONIES?!” Quango took a deep breath, and let out a scream of frustration that sounded as though it could split the earth by sheer force.

When he came to and his vision was no longer filled with blazing red, Quango was surprised to find he felt supremely mellow about the situation. So he was tied to a chair. So Applejack had gone to the dissidents’ side after all. So Golden Shred was still loose. It didn’t matter. He’d gotten all his frustration out, and said what he’d had to say. And said it at such a volume that the other occupants of the room were now pressed against the walls.

Pinkie had leapt into Rainbow Dash’s hooves, Applejack and Spike were clinging to one another, and Rarity was still wincing, hooves clapped over her ears. The already timid-looking pegasus, meanwhile, had somehow compacted herself into a tiny quivering ball of yellow feathers and pink hair.

“Uh… you, uh, you got it all out, sugarcube?” Applejack asked gently.

Quango sat back and sighed contentedly. “Yeah, I think so. I think so,” he said, dreamily imagining Cloudchaser and Flitter bringing the heavens down on Golden Shred. He tried to put his forelegs behind his head, only to be reminded of his restraints by the resistance he felt. “Do you mind if these come off?” he asked.

Rarity fixed him with a glare, before Applejack interjected, “If he tries to run, Rainbow’ll have him before he gets through the door. Take ‘em off.” The unicorn grumbled, but obliged, ripping the sticky taffy from Quango’s hooves.

He rubbed his forehooves together, trying to get something resembling a healthy blood flow running again. “So,” he began. “Given all the effort you went to, I guess you wanted to talk to me pretty badly, huh?” His captors all nodded. “What about?”

“Given Rarity and Ah are both here, sugarcube, Ah think you can probably put two and two together,” Applejack said, pursing her lips.

“You want Sweetie Belle back?” Quango raised his forelegs in a pacifying gesture. “I can do what I can, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do much more than try and appeal to Veggie’s better nature.” He looked up at Applejack and shrugged. “And when I tried that after she locked you up, and when she got me to tail you and force you to explain the abduction to Rarity, all I got was a pat on the head and a chuckle, every time.”

Rarity cleared her throat and rapped a hoof against the floor, eyes gleaming like shards of ice. “That’s the point. There is no better nature to appeal to. Ever since Veggie Vee has arrived here, all she has done is ruin this town and abuse her power!” She snorted and raised her snout with a harrumph. “There simply is no other option. Vee took my sister and attempted to sabotage the friendship between me and Applejack! She needs to go back to whatever filing cabinet she crawled out of and leave us well enough alone. She has no right to be here. I was hoping you’d be decent enough to aid us.”

Rarity’s rant struck a nerve inside Quango. He sat up, wings unfurling slightly, a scowl emerging on his face. “Now hang on a second! She does have a right to be here! What, did you think this is a holiday for her or something?” He crossed his forelegs, mildly incredulous that he was having to defend Veggie. “Do you have any idea what’s at stake here?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Some kind of bonus, presum—”

“Our jobs! Our livelihoods!” Quango exclaimed, flinging up his forelegs. “We bet the farm on this one, and now everything’s coming apart! Do you honestly think I’m going to commit career suicide by mounting a rebellion against a fellow member of the Civil Service? Let alone against my superior, who I will be the first to admit is not the most mentally stable of ponies.”

“Wait, wait,” Applejack interrupted. “‘Bet the farm’? Ah don’t get it. All Ah ever heard was that Ponyville was eatin’ too much sugar. Where did this big gamble come from?”

Quango sighed and stared at the ground. He’d hoped to keep the true details of the situation a secret, in a vain hope that keeping it simple would let them carry out their subsidy campaign without incident and report a quick turnaround to the Treasury. Then, as he saw his Sugar Watch jacket, and remembered the mechanical wonder calculating away in the Town Hall, he realised that not only had ‘simple’ gone out the window, it had run away and emigrated to the Crystal Empire to start a new life. The truth was the least painful thing he could tell now. “Alright,” he started. “I’ll tell you everything. Just try not to blab about it to anypony else, okay? I’d hate to think what Veggie might do if she realised the truth was out.”

He received nods from the set of oddly sympathetic faces in front of him. Quango took a deep breath and began, explaining the think tank he and Veggie comprised, their usual jobs, and the fateful dossier that had led them there.

“Wait, that amount went up by how much?” Rainbow asked, slack-jawed.

“Five thousand percent, give or take a couple of points,” Quango said. He rubbed the back of his head, a corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ve honestly never seen anything like it, but all the figures checked out. No massive population surges, no sudden import or export increases, no arithmetic errors… somehow, Ponyville was suddenly consuming more sugar than the five largest cities in Equestria combined.”

Pinkie bounced up and down excitedly. “Wowee! Then it must have been a bumper year for Sugarcube Corner! We should totally have a party to celebrate all those profits!” She arrested her motion and shrank back as she received glares from every part of the room. “Or I guess it can wait…”

Quango snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes. “In any case, it came in at the worst possible time. The day we came to Ponyville was the day all Civil Service departments signed off on their budgets, and this information came to me only a couple of hours before the deadline. I checked it as fast as I could, but due to a… communication error”—read, ‘extended lunch break’, his mind added—”Veggie didn’t receive it until after the budget for our think tank was sent off. So we were left looking at this disaster of a statistic, and no money to sort it out for a whole year.”

“But… but then how are you here?” asked Fluttershy. She’d extracted herself from her balled state and introduced herself to Quango earlier, and was now listening with rapt attention.

“Well, that’s where the gamble came from. Veggie and I went to our sponsor in the Treasury and begged a special case. He indulged us by paying us the budget for the year after next, there and then, to pay for the Ponyville operation.” He huffed, blowing his fringe upward slightly. “And therein lies the rub. Because the implication very much was that there was no option for failure.”

“Ah.” Rarity rested the tip of her forehoof on her lips, swaying slightly. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah. You know that manuscript written by an ancient Royal Guard commander on the art of war? ‘Do not press a desperate foe too hard’? Veggie came already fully desperate. Every action of dissent against her convinces her more strongly that you’re just ‘an uninformed rabble that needs to be shown the correct way to live.’” Quango shrugged and looked away, ears drooping. “Just the way she thinks, really.” He looked up at Pinkie and raised his eyebrows. “And the antics of your masked vigilante friend haven’t been helping, I might add.”

Pinkie’s head recoiled, and she scrunched her eyes shut and turned away. “Yeah, I think I worked that one out already,” she said quietly.

Before Quango could react to the uncharacteristically melancholic display, Rarity harrumphed again. “Well, that still doesn’t excuse her rampant abuses of power!” she exclaimed. “What in Equestria possessed a civil servant to try to emulate King Sombra?”

“I don’t know. There’s some feedback loop in Veggie’s mind that causes her to crave more power as soon as she’s granted it. First it was Mayor Mare’s approval, then Sugar Watch commander, and now she’s splashing her ‘emergency powers’ left, right and centre,” Quango said slowly. “I honestly have no idea how to break her out of it. Any criticism or dissent is answered by her ramping up further, an—” He suddenly stopped as a memory surfaced and hit him squarely with its revelation. His eyes flicked to Spike, who’d apparently had the same realisation. “Wait a second. You remember Veggie completely freaking out when Princess Twilight greeted us, right?”

“Do I ever!” Spike laughed. “That salute would have put Shining Armor to shame!”

“Exactly! Veggie will bend over backward for anypony in authority above her, just like she expects anypony beneath her to obey her,” Quango said excitedly. “There you go. I’m sure we can sort all of this out if we just go and explain the situation to the Princes—” He groaned as he saw the sea of doubtful faces in front of him. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

Rainbow was first to pipe up. “Eh… she did say she wouldn’t be around this week ‘cause of her experiment.” She looked at Spike in askance. “I guess you could go get her just for five minutes?”

Spike shook his head. “No, Twi won’t be back for a couple of days.” When everypony did a double-take, he sighed and threw his arms up. “Okay, she didn’t really want word getting out, but I guess it can’t do much harm now. She’s been studying the mirror she and I went through in the Crystal Empire. She managed to make some kind of replica with a bunch of magical machines and stuff in the library’s basement. It doesn’t go to the same place, but it’s got the same rules: no coming back for three days.”

Applejack gave a low whistle. “Wow. That girl’s sure somethin’ special, ain’t she?” she said, puffing out her chest and grinning. “Still, that does throw a spanner in the works.”

Quango simply stared. Princess Twilight had gone to… someplace else? Another world? Well, that was a turn-up for the books, never mind her having apparently created a replica portal. But, then again, she had created a spell powerful enough to turn her into an alicorn in the first place… He’d have to apologise for the mess that Veggie had made out of the town when she returned, he was sure. “Well, that rules that out. I guess we can’t do anything but wait for the Princess to return. Unless, of course, we go right to the top.” He laughed at his own nonsensical suggestion. “But seriously, who would have a mechanism by which they could send a letter direct to Princess Celestia for her immediate attention?” His smile faltered slightly as he saw everypony else look oddly uncomfortable. “Right?”

“Uh…”

“Well…”

“Spike can do that!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Can’t you Spike? Just set fire to a scroll and poof, off it goes!”

“Really?” Quango’s eyebrows went up as high as they could go. “Wow. Okay. Well, if you wanted Veggie to stop what she’s doing, there’s your answer.”

Spike folded his arms and glowered at the group of ponies. “Are you joking?” he asked. “Do you have any idea of how embarrassing that would be for Twi? Having to go running to Celestia to fix a problem in her hometown? Or worse, not even being there to sort the problem out and needing her to help out instead?”

“Oh, come on, Spikey-Wikey,” Rarity crooned. “I’m sure she’d understand this one tim—”

“No! Don’t ‘Spikey-Wikey’ me!” Spike jumped back. “It was bad enough when Celestia had to sort out her Want It, Need It spell. But now? When Twilight’s also a princess? No way. We are not going behind Twi’s back and making Celestia sort it out. We got into this mess in the first place, between the sugar and somepony dressing up as Sweet Tooth. And we’re going to get ourselves out of it, too.”

Quango threw his head back and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Oh, good plan, we hardly knew ye, he thought morosely. “Well, good luck with that,” he said. He pulled himself out of the chair and stood up, stretching. “I’ll see you in three days once Princess Twilight returns, I suppose…” He froze as he felt a hoof on his shoulder, and looked up into the eyes of Rainbow Dash. “Or not?”

“Siddown,” she said. “You’re going nowhere till we know you’re helping. Time for Plan B: we make as much noise as possible.”

“What?! No, no no no no no,” Quango insisted. “Don’t you get it? The harder you push Veggie, the more extreme she gets. She’s already locked Sweetie Belle away!” He jumped up in the air flapping his wings agitatedly to hover next to Rainbow Dash. “What, do you want to see how far she can go? Whether she can give Discord a run for his money?”

“I think it’s rather more the case that Veggie is already doomed, regardless of how she’s dealt with,” Rarity said, examining a hoof. “Even though bowing down to a princess would be a humiliation, it would be scant retribution for her actions so far. No, we want her to see how much she’s hurt the ponies of this town. And we want that to be her downfall. How can she have any power if everypony rises up against her?” Her eyes flicked up to him. “I’m sure you can include yourself in that number, can’t you?”

Quango looked away, thoughts churning in his head. This was… traitorous. There was no other word for it. As well-meaning as these ponies were, he would be engaging in an act of mutiny against another civil servant, an assault on the very foundations of bureaucracy. And yet… and yet, he remembered all the humiliations Veggie had meted out to both him and others, how much her madness had taken hold of the town. He shuddered to recall the Thinking Engine, now even now being programmed by Veggie’s own quirks and turning into an echo chamber for her megalomania. Maybe they didn’t have three days to wait for Twilight… “I suppose so,” he admitted.

“Goody!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing over. “I always knew you were a swell pony, Quango!” She threw her forelegs around him, which had the unfortunate effect of pinning his wings to his side and sending them both plummeting to the ground.

“Of course, you’ll keep this a secret from Veggie,” Rarity said, standing over him as he tried to extract himself from the tangle of limbs he and Pinkie had formed upon landing. “You need to be the poisonous voice that whispers in Veggie’s ear. You can make anypony doubt themselves, given enough encouragement. And once the ponies of this town rally against her, I’m sure you’ll be able to prove that you’re a far more reasonable civil servant and keep your job.”

“Rarity! Quit the ‘criminal mastermind’ speech,” Applejack chided. She walked over and helped Quango to his hooves. “So, if that’s settled, we need to work out what exactly we’re gonna do.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “First things first, we need to get Sweetie Belle outta there. And Ah reckon we need to take a closer look at this dossier of yours, too. Where could we find it?”

Quango stretched his wings out and rolled his eyes upward. “I’m pretty sure Veggie relocated most of the paperwork to her office in the Town Hall. And it’s strictly off-limits, even to me.”

“Hmm.” Applejack tapped a hoof against the floor, and her eyes lit up. “Well, we’re not expected back ‘til late this evening. Way Ah see it, we should drag it out as long as possible. Then we have cover of darkness to get inside.” She looked back at Pinkie. “Seein’ as we have the Sweet Tooth costume—”

“Huh?!” Quango gripped the arms of the chair. “How?”

“Uh… that would be me. Hi,” Pinkie said sheepishly, waving at him. “Sorry for slightly blowing you up.”

“Anyway,” Applejack continued, taking advantage of Quango’s stunned state. “What Ah’ll do instead is bring the costume to Veggie, but you won’t be with me. Ah’ll come up with some fantasy that you were captured while we ratted out Sweet Tooth, and I’ll take a fake prisoner”— she nodded to Rainbow Dash, who grinned back—“with me. While she’s distracted tryin’ to come up with a rescue mission for you, you and Spike can go on in and rescue Sweetie Belle—and the dossier.”

Quango rubbed his eyes with his hooves, then frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I went with you? I mean, I am still trusted by her.”

“Won’t help. If Ah know Veggie, she’ll have guards on the doors to her office and wherever she’s keepin’ Sweetie,” Applejack explained. “But if she thinks you’ve gone, then she’ll pull ‘em all downstairs while she’s panicking.” A grin chased across her face. “She loves her little role calls, doesn’t she? Then, once we have what we came for, you can just waltz on in and pretend you escaped, and we can make out that Sweetie slipped away while she had the chance. Vee thinks she’s done with Sweet Tooth, we get Sweetie back, and you and Ah get put in her good books permanently. Sound good?”

“I suppose so. I still think you’re playing with fire here, especially when Veggie finds out Sweetie Belle is gone”—he gulped as Rarity shot him a furious look—”but I suppose leaving her imprisoned is no option.” He nodded to himself, staring into the middle distance for a moment. “And with any luck, the dossier might help cool things off if I can re-analyse it… or doctor it. Perhaps we won’t need a Princess to shout Veggie down after all.”

“Awesome!” Pinkie exclaimed. “Well, we’re gonna head on upstairs. You probably want to plan your rescue mission with Spike!” She giggled to herself. “Don’t go outside, though! We’ll find you, no matter how far you run.”

Quango let out a squeak of terror as Pinkie’s voice sunk to a threatening growl, eliciting a wave of laughter. “O...kay?” The others nodded, and began to leave the basement. His heart sank as he looked at the retreating backs of the mares, suddenly realising he'd consented to being a prisoner in Sugarcube Corner for the rest of the day. He’d have to pray that nopony else came in and recognised him, lest they rat him out to Veggie. He jerked in surprise as he felt a claw poke his shoulder.

Spike nodded at him. “You up for this, then?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Heh, it’s alright. You’ll be trained by the best!” Spike struck a pose at a nonplussed Quango. “Don’t worry; I’ve done this before. I even managed to rescue those guys from the Mane-iac, and that was just as Humdrum!”

“Excuse me?” Quango bit his lip, trying to understand Spike’s boast. He thought that some comic book fantasy was proper training for this?

Spike grinned widely. “Oh yeah; it was incredible. You had to see it to believe it.”

“You’ll forgive me if I have some doubts about this mission.” Quango’s stomach suddenly twisted sharply. What would happen if Veggie caught him?

“C’mon!” Spike suddenly grabbed the lapels of Quango’s jacket, making him gasp in shock. “Sweetie Belle has been foalnapped by evil civil servants! Are you a bad enough dude to save her?!”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” Quango cried, backpedalling and falling on his rump. “Maybe?”

“It’ll be fine. Honest.” Spike let go of the jacket and put a claw on Quango’s shoulder, gripping it tightly. “You’re doing the right thing.” Before Quango had a chance to respond, he clasped his hands together and dreamily said, “Oh, and it had to be Sweetie we’re saving! I can’t believe of all the ponies’ younger sisters I could be rescuing, it’s dear, sweet Rarity!”

Great. So I’m going on a rescue mission with a baby dragon who got all his pointers from comic books and is only doing this to score brownie points with his crush, Quango thought. Out of the fire, into the blast furnace. “Right…”

“What, you never take risks?” Spike asked.

“I do!” Quango replied. “Like, uh… like…” He shrugged.

Spike rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Well, in any case, planning’s gonna be thirsty work. You want a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.” Wait, a risk! “With two—no, three sugars, Spike!” As Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise, Quango clasped his hooves together and grinned. What a rush.