Blueblooded Torture

by Cytotoxin


Mayor Witness

Applejack stepped up, glaring at the Class Action balefully. Attorney harrumphed at the glare and returned with her own. Which had no effect on Applejack in the slightest. Disregarding the glaring contest, Blueblood announced - "Specifically, miss Applejack, I`d like to hear about your first meeting with them."

"Yup." - she proffered grimly - "As a matter of fact, Ah met them two at the gates of mah farm. They rode up on that thar contraption of theirs an` went into sale pitch right off the bat."

Of course, Class Action could not miss such an opportunity. "Sales pitch? Really?" - she inquired acerbically - "I can hardly think they`d expect to advertise a machine to a pony who asked them to build it in the first place. Perhaps you`d like to word it better?"

Applejack shrugged, offering simple - "Nope." She shrugged off the intensifying glare of opposing lawyer nonchalantly, and continued - "As a matter o`fact, them fancy-pants inventors done knocked over mah fence post an` broke into a song, as if this here were a vaudeville or summat like. Ah can hardly call it anything other then sales pitch. Hey, iffen yer think ah`m embellishin`, why doncha ask other ponies? Half a town saw `em doin` their little number, or prit`near so."

Book Thrower harumphed. "I get the picture." - he quipped tersely, his irate composure leaving no room for further stalling - "What happened after that?"

Applejack shrugged slightly. "Ah`m sorry, yer honor, but you ain`t gettin` it yet. Yah see, them, whatchacallem.... plaintiffs, right? Well, they weren`t tryin` ta sell me that there machine, nope. Them`s been tryin` ta sell cider ta the town. Except they`ve had no apples an` were lookin` ta use mine." - she proffered, and shook her head, as if in disbelief somepony would actually do all that.

Of course, Class Action could not let this go unchallenged. "I OBJECT!" - she screeched, her hooves slamming into the table as she leaned over it, - "My clients have had just testified they were in the town for the express purpose of selling the machine, NOT the cider."

Blueblood snorted. "You are quite a maverick, miss Action. One more cautious would think long and hard before dismissing a testimony of the Element of Honesty." - he quipped - "As it so happened, I`ve asked around the town to verify. Cider season is an important time in Ponyville - most adults that were not engaged otherwise were present for the event and could corroborate the testimony if necessary." He lifted both of his hooves in a bemused shrug and gestured around vaguely - "Be my guest, your honor. Pull in any adult from the street and ask them to testify." He paused to smile at Class Action - "Yes, I`m actually that confident in my position, miss Action. Want to try me?"

"This is an outrage! You`re treating this hearing like a... like a stand-up comedy! Your honor, this is entirely unacceptable. Am I to understand that defence based their strategy on publicity stunts in it`s entirety?" - she screeched indignantly, - "Should we invite the rest of town to witness the preceedings while at it?"

Blueblood shrugged. "I have no objection to that." - he proffered nonchalantly, flashing his best "I`m so gonna screw you over and there`s nothing you can do about it" smile. Book Thrower gave him the gimlet eye, but then snorted. "Very well. On the authority of the court, I summon mayor Mayor Mare to testify about the event in question."

It took a few minutes to fetch Mayor Mare and have her sworn in as a witness - a process that didn`t fill Class Action with confidence, given that neither the darn hick nor her blasted attorney shown any worry at the fact. Actually, the only thing they shown were seething disdain and bored condescension, respectively. Still... She cleared her throat.

"Would you please state your name and occupation for the court, please?" - Class Action inquired, taking charge quickly to head this testimony in the right direction. Worryingly, this Civil Act pony made no attempt to stop her. Which meant that he was confident mayor could not possibly say anything damaging to his position. At least, as far as he could tell, obviously. Class Action did have a trick or three in her sleeve, still.

"Ah, yes. I am the mayor of this fine town, and my name is Mayor Mare." - the witness in question offered, adjusting her glasses with a hoof - "So, what exactly do you need my testimony on?"

- Miss Mare, where exactly were you during the opening of cider season in Ponyville last year?
- Oh? That`s easy. I was queuing at the gates of Sweet Apple Acres to get some fresh cider.
- Queuing, is that it? Strange, I would have thought the owner of the farm would have good graces not to make a mayor wait in line.
- Ah. You see, miss Action, I also pride myself on having good graces, in particular as it pertains to not misusing my civic position. If everypony else had to queue, then it was good enough for me as well.
- How... commendable. Regardless of that, how far were you from the gates?
- At which hour?
- Excuse me?
- The queue, it moves, miss Action. When the sun rose, I was twenty fifth in line. When the plaintiffs arrived, I was thirteenth, which puts me about five yards from the gate, give or take.
- Which means you saw the arrival of my clients well, haven`t you? Please describe what happened.
- Ah. Well, your clients have had arrived on some kind of motorized chariot. It didn`t function particularly well, I would say, as they plowed into the fence before coming to stop. I was about to leave the line to inquire about their health, when the both of them broke into a song about the benefits of automated cider production. I`ve made an educated guess that neither of the two was particularly in need of help after seeing them dance around and sing about their cider-making contraption.
- What happened after that?
- Your clients had a brief discussion with members of Apple family, then returned to their device and drove away on it. I couldn`t hear the whole discussion, but I distinctly remember Big Macnitosh saying "No deal." just before the discussion ended.
- How convenient. You couldn`t hear the discussion except for this one line? Any particular reason why?
- Big Macintosh haven`t said anything else, and the rest of ponies spoke too quietly to overhear. Big Mac is, well... named big for a reason, and he`s got a voice to match.

"Ayup." made everypony`s teeth reverberate for a moment, causing all of them to turn and stare at the stallion, who merely shrugged and gave a sheepish smile in return. Class Action seethed quietly. That, again, was bringing undesirable comedy into preceedings, and trying to go after stallion would lose whatever tenuous support she still had from Book Thrower. She was well aware that Big Macintosh was not prone to talking, and for that reason resolved not to summon him as witness if at all possible, lest he irritate Book Thrower into throwing the case out with his monosyllabillic answers.

- Going back to the event in question, when did the promotion start?
- ...What promotion?
- Miss Mare, must I remind you that lying to court is a serious offense? Surely, as a mayor, you should be well aware of that.
- Miss Action, the song was the entirety of promotion your clients had given. After the unsuccessful discussion with Apples, they left the farm entirely.
- And when did they produce the cider, then?
- That would be the next day. They arrived roughly at the same time, just as Apples run out of cider for the day, and attempted to sell their own...
- OBJECTION! My clients had no intention of selling cider!
- Would you like to interview the entirety of my town to verify my version of events? I can arrange an interview with every person. By the last census, Ponyville counted two thousand thirty seven adult ponies. I`m confident that if we start right now, we will be able to finish by the next Sunday. By Friday, even, if we agree to ten-hour workdays and skip dinner breaks.

Class Action slammed her hoof down on the table angrily. "Miss Mare!" - she screeched - "We are discussing the promotion given by my clients to Sweet Apple Acres! Nothing more. Now, please, testify about the promotion and nothing else!" Grey mare simply shrugged.

- I`m afraid I don`t understand what do you expect to hear, then. To give you a synopsis of what I know about the events... Your clients arrived to the farm with the tall tales about the quality of their cider. After apparently failing to arrive to any agreement with Apples, they came back next day and attempted to sell their own cider, which they made on the spot with the help of their cider machine. Applejack questioned the quality of their cider, to which they responded with the challenge for the ownership of the farm. The ones producing the most cider would win. The contest itself have had been judged by me, and all requisite paperwork filled in at the town hall. It`s worth to mention that contest was not billed as promotional, and I have had inquired both participating sides about their goal. So any promotion to take place have had to happen before the contest.
- Please testify about the contest then. What happened, who won and why?
- The rules of contest have had been simple. Whoever produced more cider during the day would receive the ownership of Sweet Apple Acres...
- And the cider machine, right?
- ...No, the stakes were solely the farm ownership. Machine was cited only as a preferred mean of production on Flim-Flam side. There was no arrangement to transfer the ownership of machine in any way, shape or form.
- Very well. What happened during the contest?
- Well, at first, your clients have had a definite lead. Apples have had inquired about being allowed to bring in honorary family members, to which your clients agreed, citing the confidence in their machine. By the end of the contest, your clients have had outproduced Apples by a tangible margin and would have received the ownership of the farm, if the taste test hadn`t revealed that majority of the produced cider have had been contaminated with dirt and splinters to the point of being entirely unsuitable for drinking. After removing the contaminated barrels from the count and confirming every single remaining barrel on both sides was drinkable, the victory have had been awarded to Apples due to having thrice the number of barrels produced. At this point your clients left, since their lackluster performance had soured the whole town on machine-made cider.
- Soured, eh? And why is that?
- Well, cider is a rare treat, you see. It can only be made during cider season, and the supply of apples at the farm is not unlimited. Given that their machine outright uprooted several trees during contest only to produce something entirely undrinkable, ponies have had been understandably disappointed at the wasting of so much apples that could`ve been made into cider otherwise.
- Which surely promoted the product made by defendant, no?
- As much as your current performance is promoting mister Act as a master attorney, I suppose.

Class Action snorted furiously, as the line was met with stifled giggles from the assorted hicks in the hall. And, what`s much worse, a snicker from judge. Which was not good for her at all. "I have no further questions." - she gritted out angrily - "Defence may cross-examine the witness."

Blueblood shrugged dismissively. "I`m entirely satisfied with testimony as is. Defence has no further questions, your honor." - he proffered - "Instead, I would like to resume the testimony of defendant as it pertains to agreements brokered or not brokered with plaintiffs."