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Urgh, mornings... So many questions: Why was Otto sleeping on his dining table? Why was he wearing a pizza box, impaled upon his horn, for a hat? Why was Starlight fast asleep on top of him, face first in the fur of his chest? The answer, as was so often the case, lay in the excruciating hangover which intended to split his skull in half, the smell of alcohol which hung on their breath, and the pile of bottles which lay around them like a solid, clattering sea. He groaned, sitting up; he couldn't blame Paver for his drinking habits, but he could blame her for spoiling his day.
He yawned a bit as he finished spraying disinfectant on the dining table, scrubbing down its surface with a sponge and hot water: Yes, this table should be clean enough to eat off of again. With that, he took up the bottles with his magic and dumping them and the pizza box (which he'd now removed from his horn) into the recycling bin, and then picking out the bits of hay bacon strips, which had somehow escaped being eaten, and threw them in the bin: By the time he'd finished, Starlight had returned from her shower, having been in there far longer than normal.
"Good morning, Starshine." Otto teased. "The Earth says hello."
"Oh, don't start." She gave him the eye. "Oh, sweet Celestia, last night was insane, we were only meant to be having pizza and a few drinks... Oh, wow..." She winced. "...Oh, we're out of mouthwash, by the way."
"Yeah, and I'm out of disinfectant... That was some pizza, right?
"Yeah, right..."
"Sorry, that thing wasn't as good as I'd hoped... I shan't be buying from them again."
"Yeah, right..." She looked away for a moment, before trotting over to sit at the dining table she'd formerly been sleeping on. "You really did clean this place up quite quickly."
"Thanks. I like to keep a clean house, and that's not really an easy job if I keep getting drunk..." He sighed. "It's getting a bit crazy again lately. That is to say, not quite as bad as when I was a student, but things have been quite difficult lately. Especially now my predecessor's back on the scene."
"So... What do we do now?"
"What do you suggest?"
Satarlight rubbed her head with her hoof, her face furrowed to a point. "...We spin this." Starlight spoke at last. "...We call her bluff, and we pin her down, make her stay hidden." Before adding. "Without using the Alicorn Amulet. You're smarter than that."
He gave her a look, running his eyes up and down her mane, rigorously brushed and tied back, her fur equally well maintained to a point where one would never have guessed the extent of their actions the night before: Otto had yet to lean himself up so extensively. "...Of course..." He quickly jumped to his hooves, hugging the unicorn mare and retreating to the door. "Make some calls for me while I get myself presentable, I need to get on the air. Radio, television, whatever you can get. I need to make a speech." With that, he ran upstairs...
Otto was better than this, better than getting drunk, eating pizza and spending the night on his dinner table enjoying the company of a sympathetic mare. They were all comfortable distractions, and he had to return to what was important: Being the mayor, and then with hard work and the masterful wrangling of Politics, becoming The Prince. If there was anything Otto was good at, it was wrangling Politics.
...Ponies were inherently peaceful, most of the time; they had their squabbles and their scraps, of course, but most of this only came out of fear, or out of broken friendships or, in the most potent of cases, hate. Otto didn't hate anybody: Hate made ponies stupid, short-sighted and prone to acting in a way they wouldn't normally act. After the Canterlot Wedding, many ponies hated, and feared, Changelings. With that, and the careful application of touched nerves and frightful insinuation, Otto could do exactly what he wanted.
Otto couldn't help but flinch as the makeup-mare added the finishing touches to his face, making him ready to wheel out onto television for the city to see. Otto wasn't young. He had bags under his eyes, and his fur was not as silky and soft like a younger stallion; it didn't shine in the light as though it were slick with rainwater. For that reason, he found himself having makeup applied to his face, and liner to the undersides of his eyelids, in order to make himself more presentable for the cameras: He hated this, but it was a necessary part of Politics, apparently. It was why he did most of his speeches on the radio, he knew that in an hour, his eyes were going to be itchy red from the eyeliner. It happened every time, and he could only conclude that he had some kind of allergy to the stuff in facial cosmetics, although he used to love face painting as a foal, which ultimately just left him confused. Confusion, however, had to wait, he had a speech to make.
A podium was set up in front of the city hall, flags (both of which were the flag of Manehatten: The flag of the Royal Sisters was strangely absent) set upon poles at each side of a podium upon which Otto would make his speech. At his right was Starlight, all signs of her hangover contained saved for some a mild case of bloodshot eyes; she'd distracted the much more sober eyes of the press with a long, black dress quickly made for her by one of the up-and-coming designers in the city.
Cameras in the hooves and magic of photographers and journalists flickered and flashed as the TV broadcasters quietly looked on. He coughed slightly to clear his throat, blinking a little as he already started to feel the tickling under his eyes, he did his best not to let it distract him as he laid down some place notes on his podium to make his speech.
"Citizens of Manehatten." He started. "Today, I've learned something very... Mixed. You see, what I must tell you is this: Our beloved former mayor, Paver Goldstreets, is alive." He paused, as the mass of people below exploded into a sea of chatter, questions and all manner of confusion and shock, he hammered his hoof into the podium to silence them. "...Yes, she lives, and many of you naturally would want her to return to power. So do I, she still has two years of her term left to serve. But you see, our mayor was cursed! In yet another insult to our proud city, and a direct attack on good, hardworking Manehattenites, we have reason to believe that a Changeling infiltrator sneaked aboard her yacht, and planted cursed shoes within her chambers..." His face was a scowl as he leaned on the podium. "My fellow Manehattenites, Paver did not fall from her ship that night, lost in the moment of a passionate dance... Instead, she was thrown, forced to dance against her will, and nearly murdered as a result!"
His hoof banged against the podium, taking a swig of water from a glass, captured in the glow of his magic, before setting down the glass again. He sighed: "My friends, what do the Changelings seek to gain with this terrorism? What does this senseless evil prove? The answer is simple... Once again, this is yet another case of the rampant threats which blight Equestria, and yet another failure on the part of Princess Celestia and the lazy, self-serving fools in her capital! Don't you see?! The Changelings have already beaten her once before! And we have to put our faith in her?! Don't you see?! It's either incompetence, or she simply doesn't care about us. Now, which of those is the better reality? Because they both seem pretty awful deals for us Manehattenites! We are hardworking, we are strong, we are clever and we are good. Manehattenites are some of the best ponies in Equestria, and we are being failed! Princess Celestia has failed us! Canterlot has failed us! Equestria has failed us!"
The crowd had turned increasingly rabid at Otto's speaking, he'd made sure to gather as many of the more chest-thumping Manehattenites as he could to hear his speech, purely for this moment. "Well, I say, NO MORE! From this point, my friends, I shall ceaselessly strive to do what Princess Celestia clearly can't: Protect and serve the good, brave, hardworking citizens of our great city! Whatever must be done for the good of you and our city, it shall be done! Celestia will rue the day she let Changelings and tyrants stand on us Manehattenites! I promise you! She and her useless Canterlot elite will regret their incompetence!"
Otto's throat was painfully raw as he sat down with Starlight in a nearby cafe. It had been an hour since the speech ended, and while he could barely speak after his shouting, coupled with the heavy drinking from the night before, he was happy: Even now, he could feel a change in the air: The citizens here were angry, but thankfully, they weren't angry at him. Fact suddenly became less and less relevant in the face of growing emotion. He and Starlight could see it in the faces of many of the other ponies in the cafe; a collective sense that, somehow, they'd been wronged.
...In truth, they had been. They were being used, as much by Otto as by Canterlot, but Otto couldn't afford to think like that. He wanted to give as much as he took, and while he took advantage of them, he was to give them something Canterlot never had given them, and never could: Cultural Pride. By the time he was crowned, the Manehattenites would not only want to see themselves as their own country, with their own culture, but would cheer and bow before Otto as their liberator. He'd didn't enjoy the abuse of his people in this way, but he held his resolve as he always did: If he could save even a comparably small hoofful of his fellow ponies by this campaign, he knew it was something he had to do, and would lose no sleep over it.