1.
A hangover is also what Mayor Mayor had the morning she returned from Canterlot. Somehow she survived the thrum of the train engine, the shrill scream of the whistle, and the squeal of the brakes, though it was a mystery to her how her head didn't explode at the combination of all three. She landed on the station platform with wobbly legs and a parched throat, her head throbbing from the aftermath of the ride. No one was waiting for her.
Mayor Mayor was the only passenger that arrived that morning. Ponyville had yet to turn into the burgeoning metropolis it would become, and most ponies avoided the town. For one thing, it was close to the everfree forest, which everyone was certain was filled with monsters that nobody ever saw. For another, all the town's water had the unmistakable bittersweet tinge of almonds, and no amount of filtering by the pegasi ever managed to get rid of the taste.
Mayor Mayor had a problem, and the headache that drummed in her head wasn't helping her solve it. She wanted to be a Canterlot librarian, and now she knew this was the equivalent to a unicorn wanting to be a weather pony. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't burned her bridges and her checkbook in the process. She was almost desperate enough to consult Madam Pie.
"You don't understand!" Mayor Mayor had shouted, slamming her hooves on the desk before her. "I'm going to die of almond poisoning!"
Wintergreen's smile had grown broader.
After picking up some apple juice, Mayor Mayor parked herself under the shade of the old oak tree. There was no rush to return to the farm just yet, and she could use the time to dull her headache before her father gave her another one. The day was pleasant if nothing else. Ponies milled about the nearby marketplace, trying to shove off the excess food they didn't ship to Canterlot or Fillydelphia on their neighbors. Spring was in the air, and a few couples strolled by in gay ignorance of Mayor Mayors plight.
The oak was one of the sole survivors of Pilgrim Heart's maniacal urbanization campaign, and it was where Mayor Mayor spent much of her time reading when outside the library. The old librarian used to come around there too, from time to time, and they would sit together in the shade and not say anything. A comfortable silence between friends.
It was also where Mayor Mayor failed to have her first romance.
There'd been a lot of romance books at the library, and even a few of them that hadn't been ruined by the leaky roof. Mayor Mayor had read all of them, even the worst ones and the ones that went all unreadable and soggy halfway through. It really didn't matter if they were ruined, since she could always pick up one that had the first half ruined and read the second half of that instead and feel almost no sense of discontinuity. The characters were always almost exactly the same, and all she had to do was adjust the names in her head, and everything would work out perfectly
The only other person who came to the library with any regularity at that time was a wiry colt name Carrot Cake. Neither of them had their cutie marks yet, but Carrot was nibbling around the edges of his. He spent most of his time looking at cookbooks, and checked them out regularly and renewed them and returned them on time. He wasn't attractive by any means, but neither was Mayor Mayor.
The most endearing quality about Carrot Cake, other then the fact that at the time he was a nervous wreck, all jutting bones and hormones, was that he never actually made fun of Mayor Mayor for her name. He was polite and milquetoast. He liked baking and boring jokes, like the ones found on popsicle sticks. Sometimes he brought some of his creations with him to the library to give to Mayor Mayor and the old librarian, and Mayor Mayor would blush and go stupid whenever he gave her a cupcake or muffin or some other confectionery.
Things came to a head one afternoon when Mayor Mayor finally worked up the courage to invite him to sit with her outside by the tree. They sat in silence for a bit, as Mayor Mayor munched on the cupcake he'd made, and Carrot leafed through a cook book. He was trying, and failing, to figure out the recipes. Water from the leaky roof had run through the book, causing the words to go all runny, wiping out entire measurements on some pages and whole ingredients on others. It was a testament to his skill that he ever produced anything worthwhile from the books at the library.
"So," Mayor Mayor said, after she'd finished her cupcake. She'd done her best to pretty herself up today, but she was keenly aware of her ridiculous pink mane and tail. "Why do you come around the library so often?"
"Oh. Well, I thought you knew." Carrot said, looking up from his book. "I want to be a cook."
"Is there no other reason?" Mayor Mayor asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Well, there is sort of something else." Carrot buried his face in his book, as though he were a turtle hiding in its shell for protection. "But you can't tell anyone."
"Oh?" Mayor Mayor moved closer to Carrot. "Your secret is safe with me. I promise."
"You're teasing me." Carrot accused. "Anyways, it's not really that much of a secret. Um, there's this girl I like."
Mayor Mayor quivered in anticipation. Here it was, just like in the romance novels. A quiet place, a confession. No conflict or drama, just the power of romance, just two souls intertwining. "Go on."
"Well, I think she really likes sweets, so I've been practicing making them for her. Once I have the perfect cupcake, she's certain to go steady with me."
"Oh, your cupcakes are perfect already, Carrot." Mayor Mayor gushed. "I'm certain she'd go steady with you, if you just asked."
"Really? You think so?" Carrot Cake's face raised from behind the book. "I'm glad I've been testing them out on you then. They're really that good?"
"Like I said, perfect." Mayors Mayors eyes were wide, she drew closer and closer.
Carrot Cake tossed the book from where it had been propped between his crossed hooves and stood up. The book slammed Mayor Mayor in the face, but Carrot Cake didn't even notice. He was straight and confidant. "Great! I can't wait to give Cup O'Sugar one then!"
Mayor Mayor's face stung. "Who?"
"Cup O'Sugar." Carrot Cake said. "The girl I like."
"Oh."
That ended Mayor Mayor's fascination with romance stories. It occurred to her later she'd started in one romance story and ended in another with the names changed, and the thought left a bad taste in her mouth. Mayor Mayor only dated one colt in the intervening years. She saw Davenport of Davenport's Quills and Sofas. The romance was one of convenience. The relationship ended in an argument over something insignificant.
Davenport was one of the first ponies to denounce Mayor Mayor when it was learned she was running for office.
"She only dated me for my quills. She hated my sofas." He explained.
2.
Most ponies didn't believe almond poisoning was a real thing, no matter how much Mayor Mayor tried to convince them otherwise. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before some bitter, wild almonds would sneak into her food supply and be the end of her. She was in a race against time, and knew it. The meager pay she would earn from being the Ponyville librarian wouldn't be enough to feed her without supplementing her diet with the almonds she could get for free.
Not to mention all the madcap schemes her father used to try to sneak almonds into the other farmers products. Almonds and carrots, Zap Apple and almond jam, almond pesticide. These were the sort of thing that would be the end of Mayor Mayor. Particularly the almond pesticide, since it meant Mayor Mayor's father was growing wild almonds.
"You're nuts!" Mayor Mayor told him, after she'd come back from Canterlot.
"No, Mayor Mayor," Mayor Mayor's father said, with the patient tone of a parent explaining something simple to a child, "these are nuts. I'm Quill Filing."
"Nuts." Mayor Mayor's father pointed at the warm almonds with ketchup he had served her, then he pointed at himself. "Quill Filing."
"For the last time, dad, I'm not stupid! I just don't want to be a mayor."
"Of course dear." He said, then leaned over to the girl he'd shacked up with while Mayor Mayor was away. "She's sensitive about it. Don't bring it up if you can avoid it."
The mare nodded and continued to eat Mayor Mayor's father's almonds.
"She's almost my age, dad!" Mayor Mayor shouted.
The mare Quill Filing had shacked up with was about five years older the Mayor Mayor, and they were both well into their adulthood. It was still off-putting.
"You'll understand when you're older dear." He said, not really paying attention to her. "Darling, would you like some more nuts?"
The mare nodded and attempted to say yes, but her mouth was full of almonds. The mare was almost as nutty as Mayor Mayor's father. She loved almonds for one thing, and she seemed to at least like Quill Filing. Neither of these things made any sense, and Mayor Mayor was at a loss as to what to do with these sudden changes in her life.
They sat in silence for several moments, Mayor Mayor's father and the mare continued to eat. Mayor Mayor wasn't hungry anymore, and shoved her plate away.
"You didn't have to put her stuff in my room!" Mayor Mayor exploded.
"I didn't think you'd be coming back. You were off to start a new life in Canterlot." Mayor Mayor's father shrugged. "Oh well, you can stay here until you get back on your feet, since that's what you seem to want. You'll just have to sleep on the floor until we can clear out your room."
"What do you mean 'I can stay?'" Mayor Mayor was flabbergasted. "I live here already!"
For the first time, the mare who Mayor Mayor's father had shacked up with stopped eating and spoke. "Your father can't coddle you forever. You're almost as old as me, remember? It's past time to move on."
Mayor Mayor's father nodded in agreement.
Mayor Mayor looked back and forth between the two of them. She stood, and walked out. This is how Mayor Mayor, well beyond the cusp of adulthood, ran away from home.
Unbeknownst to her, the mare Mayor Mayor's father shacked up with was in fact a changeling, feeding on his love of almonds. It was a feast, and she slowly savored it for years. Sucking the love of nuts out of him, driving him slowly sane. By the time Mayor Mayor was on speaking terms with him again he was once again at his real work, filing income taxes for Ponyville residents. It was hard to say whether it was improvement or not. He was less happy, but he also had quit almonds before they killed him and probably most of Ponyville.
The changeling went on to her next victim, but never could quite quit her almond eating habit.