The top floor of Ponyville City Hall was bustling, as it typically is on a weekday afternoon. Career bureaucrats power-walked down the hall, shuffling reports between offices. A clerk from the ground floor brought a stack of tax receipts to the filing room where she ran into Silver-Tongue, Ponyville’s general counsel, who was looking for information so he could rebuff yet another of Filthy Rich’s frivolous lawsuits – Mister Rich (as he insisted on being called) complained he was being charged a higher tax rate than other ponies, to which the town’s assessor replied that of course that was the case since he used more resources and owned more valuable properties.
Suddenly, the door at the end of the hall burst open, a mocha-and-grey blur zipping through, nearly knocking everyone down as it made a beeline for the mares’ toilet.
A few yards away, Spike had reached the writing desk situated on the large landing at the top of the stairs. Using what little strength he had (due to his being a baby dragon), he pulled himself up above the desk’s surface-level so he could be seen by the serious-faced grey-toned secretary, Raven Inkwell.
“Hi, Raven,” Spike said to the as cheerily as he could through his straining. “Is the Mayor in today?”
Raven peered at Spike over her black half-rim glasses, which she had bought for the sole purpose of being able to peer over them at visitors disapprovingly, and adjusted the bun holding her dark brown mane. “I think she’s…” she briefly turned to glance at the toilet, “…indisposed. Do you have an appointment?”
Spike tilted his head. “Do I need one?”
“Typically yes,” Raven replied. “The Mayor is very busy ensuring this town runs as efficiently as possible.”
“That’s a lie,” Spike shot back before his brain got a chance to stop him. “This is the day after the Mayor’s weekly freeform question session, right? She always needs at least 36 hours to recover from that.”
Raven nodded, impressed. “How did you…?”
“I do Twilight Sparkle’s schedule. Compared to her, learning how the Mayor operates was a piece of cake,” he answered bluntly.
“Fine. Go wait in her office. If you’re lucky, she’ll be coherent enough to notice you when she returns,” Raven said with a tone that suggested defeat as she waved him through.
Spike entered Mayor Meyer Mare’s office, giving a surprised whistle upon seeing how quickly and thoroughly it had been repaired following the alcohol fire incident. As before, the decor was rather sparse. The same wooden desk and chairs – now with scorch marks – sat towards the back of the room, situated such that a mayor could easily peer out either of the corner windows onto the bustling streets below. Aside from a repaired ceiling and walls, the only difference Spike could notice was that one section of an interior wall not covered by a scroll-shelf – filled with two hundred years worth of decrees both local and Imperial, shielded by a protection spell whose amber aura occasionally glistened – was now adorned with dartboards. One had its bullseye spot covered with a photo of Filthy Rich; another had a photo of Twilight Sparkle; a third had a photo of the Apple Family, though youngest member Apple Bloom had been carefully cut out; a fourth had a photo of Rarity – Spike convinced himself he hadn’t seen that one. All the boards had at least one dart in them, though Filthy Rich’s had at least three.
As Spike sat in the chair opposite Mayor Mare’s unoccupied desk, he wondered how an Earth-pony like her would be able to pick up a dart, much less throw it. Fortunately for the collective sanity of the entire universe, the mayor returned from her intestinal sojourn, instantly causing Spike’s mind to jump elsewhere. Mayor Mare sat down and stared at the large disorganized pile of nothing before her, blinking slowly as she attempted to process it.
Eventually, she allowed her glazed-over bloodshot eyes to wander, finally resting them upon the form of the small dragon sitting opposite her. “Purple,” she thought aloud. She gradually cocked her head, squinting her eyes before speaking again. “Green,” she said flatly.
Spike wanted to say something, but remembered what happened the last time he disturbed Twilight when she had been barely coherent – he would have burned to a crisp were it not for his thick dragon scales. So he waited patiently for the mayor to regain a grasp on her surroundings.
“Spike,” she said with little affect. Then her deep blue eyes lit up in recognition as her brain finally registered what her eyes and mouth told her. “Oh! Spike. What brings you to my office?”
Spike barely managed to suppress a chuckle. “You sent me a certified letter this morning, rambling about how much you hated this week’s weekly town hall meeting. I figured you needed someone to talk to who wasn’t upset about something. Also, I needed to get out of the library for a while. Twilight’s kind of been on the warpath. She’s still mad at me and you for the fire thing and said I wasn’t allowed near here for the next ever. Then she got upset that your letter wasn’t for her. The mailmare refused to let her sign for it, and I wouldn’t let her read it. She tried to magic it away from me but I burned it before she could. Then she said I was grounded for the next month. *heh* Like that matters. I’m a growing dragon; I can’t stay cooped up in a library all day!”
Mayor Mare furrowed her brow. “I thought your dragon’s-breath functioned as a direct line to Princess Celestia.”
“Well, yeah it does. I just—” then Spike realized. “Oh, horse apples.”
The door burst open, revealing an utterly terrified, out-of-breath Raven. “Mayor… it’s…”
“Send her in,” the Mayor said calmly, her head downcast. “No point delaying the inevitable.”
Five seconds later, Princess Celestia strutted into the room. Her regal bearing standing out in stark contrast to the simple office. She towered over the Mayor and the baby dragon. From their vantage point, it appeared that the princess was glaring at them. Mayor Mare gulped and pushed a crystal glass and carafe full of rank clear liquid towards her ruler. “W-would you care for a drink, Your Highness?”
Celestia slowly blinked, then cracked a slight smile.
As City Hall began to shut down for the evening, Raven returned to the Mayor’s office to gauge how long it might take to clean up what was left of her former boss. Much to her surprise, she found Mayor Mare alive and not in shackles, as the Princess sat next to Spike, chuckling about something.
“Yes, she can be overly serious. Twilight is at once the best student I have ever had and the worst,” mused Princess Celestia.
“So… yeah,” Spike said. “I never meant to send you that letter. I blame Twilight! She says I don’t get the right to open my own mail? I’da left her already if you hadn’t made me stay.” He burped, releasing a massive burst of green fire. A propeller-beanie swirled into existence in front of the three, causing them to burst out laughing.
“It would seem Princess Luna is awake and has figured out how to utilize flame-transport,” Celestia concluded. “Perhaps we should send her some of these libations?”
“NO!” Mayor Mare and Spike both screamed, causing the eavesdropping Raven to flinch.
Spike continued, “Sorry, Princess, but the last time I used my breath on this stuff, well, it kinda blew up this room.”
“It took weeks and several thousand Bits to fix the damage,” the Mayor chimed in. “Do you really want to get another emergency budget request from Ponyville?”
“I suppose not. But, this… what-did-you-call-it?” Celestia tried and failed to name the liquid that had clearly had some effect on her cognition.
“Crusaders’ Brew, courtesy of Apple Bloom,” the Mayor said, “I managed to save some after the last time it caught on fire. Too precious to waste.”
Princess Celestia smiled. “Well, you must tell Apple Bloom that it is wonderful. I have not had such fine spirituous liquid in many centuries. Indeed, I had assumed such knowledge was lost. I fear sometimes that I have overly infantilized my subjects in some areas.”
“That’s not for us to say. The peon— uh, I mean the rabble—” the Mayor said, attempting to find the right word yet not irritate. “Some ponies just don’t get how difficult it can be to run things, and I have it super easy compared to you, Princess.”
“Yes,” Celestia replied, “but I have a Senate and Court to deal with most of that work, plus Luna – she wishes so badly to be helpful. You have your staff, including that charming secretary. Rarely these days do I grant audience to petitioners. When one has been around for as long as I have, one hears the same complaints over and over again. Meyer, there is no shame in becoming frustrated with such things, so long as nothing keeps you from performing your job to the best of your abilities, in the best interests of those who you serve.”
At that point, everyone was startled by a shrill voice from outside: “SPIKE! Where are you? How dare you ignore me when I said you were grounded! Did you go to City Hall like I ordered you not to?? I swear if you don’t come out right now, Princess Celestia will hear about this!!”
Princess Celestia stared at Spike, mock-concerned. “I think we might be in trouble.”