• Published 28th Apr 2013
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Spike on Strike - Sarcasmo



Spike has had it. It's not his fault the library is a shambles. But he's not gonna take the blame. Until Twilight starts appreciating him, he goes on strike.

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3rd Act

Drawing attention to the case of Ponyville's neglected dragon assistant had been a tremendous success. If by the passionate appeals of Rainbow Dash, the accounts of the dragon in question himself, or simply through the grapevine, by the end of the day all of Ponyville had learned of the strike taking place in front of the Ponyville Library.

And many had joined the picket line. They had grabbed their tents and sleeping bags (or more accurately, bought them on the spot) and set up camp right next to Spike's. When Tent Peg's Camping Emporium had reopened the day after, it had been spitting out customers by the minute.

While Spike and Rainbow Dash had been busy recruiting new members, Pinkie Pie had felt responsible for keeping up the camp's morale. She was able to provide the protesters with a supply of signs, paints, and string instruments as endless as her own cheerfulness. On top of that, she also catered to the needs of the proverbial stomach any army is bound to march on.

“...And I made sure everypony got at least a muffin or a donut or a slice of cake or a treat of the same level of sugary goodness,” she proudly reported to Spike once she had finished her round.

“Did you save any for me?” Spike asked worriedly.

“Of course I did, you silly-nilly. I even prepared a cupcake especially for you.” She grabbed the very last treat from the tray behind her. “It's a chocolate-strawberry-vanilla cupcake sprinkled with diamond dust and baked with a blue topaz inside.”

Spike's eyes sparkled as much as the pastry. “And it's just for me?”

Pinkie nodded. “It's your special you're-leading-a-terrific-strike cupcake. Enjoy!”

He took it from her hooves and swallowed the entire thing in a single bite. “It's amazing! Thanks, Pinkie Pie,” he said with his mouth full.

“And you've earned it,” Rainbow Dash said. “Look at what you managed to achieve in a single day.”

Spike waved his hand dismissively. “I didn't really do much,” he said. “And what I did, I could have never done without you.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Rainbow agreed. “We were pretty amazing.” She laid her hoof on his shoulder. “And you just wait and see: with support like this, we'll win in no time. Rarity will be sorry for calling this strike silly and meaningless.” She grabbed him more tightly. “Oh, we're so gonna show her.”

“And then Twilight will take me back and treat me with more respect?” Spike asked.

“Huh?” For half a second, Rainbow merely looked at him quizzically. “Oh, sure. She's gotta crack any minute now. I mean, can you really imagine her running the whole library by herself? I bet she doesn't even know how to do half the stuff you usually do for her.”

“Well, I was always the one to keep track of all the books on reshelving day. And re-reshelving day. And re-re-reshelving day. And I-can't-believe-I've-been-rearranging-these-books-so-many-times-what-was-I-thinking day.” He took a long look at the library. “Come to think of it, I'm the one who always has to get the books for the customers.”

“That's because she can't even do it. She needs you. She depends on you. She can't even last a minute without you.” Rainbow Dash grinned maliciously. “Without you, I bet she's going crazy in there.”

Spike's gaze swayed downward for a moment, and when he looked back up at Rainbow, tears were dwelling in the corners of his eyes. “But not the bad kind of crazy,” she quickly added. “The good kind. The kind that makes you apologize to your friends.”

Her words were about as convincing as the sales pitch of a door-to-door peddler.

Lucky for her, they were distracted by the approach of an unfamiliar pony looking like a door-to-door peddler. “Excuse me,” the stranger said, “mind if I ask you a question?”

“Of course not,” Pinkie chirped. “Shoot!”

With a face as straight as a piece of duct tape right from the roll he said: “Is this the protest against the tyrant Celestia, demanding her immediate resignation from office, freeing ponykind from her shackles once and for all?”

The question left all three of them flabbergasted. “What in Equestria are you talking about?” Rainbow asked. “Why would there ever be something like that.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie added. “What could anypony possibly have against Celestia?”

“I have my reasons,” the stranger simply said. “But I don't know you well enough to tell you. So I presume this squabble is about something completely different?”

“You bet it is!” Rainbow answered. “This is the strike of my good friend Spike. To get some respect as an employee of the Ponyville Library.”

“Oh,” the stranger said. “I guess I was just a little confused, because of the sign.”

“What sign?” they all asked.

“That sign over there,” the stranger pointed out.

Pinkie might have provided the wood and the paint, but not the words for the protesters. Those ultimately chosen by them were, to all three of them, very unexpected.

Many of the signs were indeed expressing their support for Spike, with lines like 'All work deserves respect!' and 'Hang in there, Spike!'. Others like 'Stop the destruction of the environment! Ponykind must learn!' and 'Smash the apple monopoly! Buy carrots!' seemed to miss the point entirely, or even stir up unwanted controversy regarding the strike. In this regard, the particular sign the stranger was referring to couldn't be merely called inappropriate, it was more of a deliberate attempt to light a match next to a powder keg. It read, 'Down with Celestia, down with fascist oppression!'. It left all three with only more flabbergasted.

“Dashie?” Pinkie Pie whispered to Rainbow Dash once she had regained her tongue.

“Yes, Pinkie?”

“I think there's something wrong with the strike, but I can't quite put my hoof on it.”

Rainbow took a step forward. “There definitely is,” she admitted. “But it's nothing I couldn't fix.”

She leapt off the ground and hovered at an altitude that allowed the entire camp to see her. “Excuse me, everypony!” she shouted across. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding. This is a strike to get Twilight Sparkle, the head of the Ponyville Library, to pay my friend Spike more respect. To anypony who isn't here for that: I appreciate your time and effort, but would you be so kind to just scram?”

An elderly stallion from the back spoke up: “I thought this was a protest against those ludicrous licorice prices!”

Rainbow flew back down. “Well, it's not,” she told him. “So if you could just...”

The stallion didn't care. “Those darn licorice makers! They think they can charge whatever they want. Who's supposed to pay for all that!?” He flailed his hoof about while he spoke. “Why, when I was a colt, you could walk to the store and buy a hoofful of licorice wheels for a penny! And a pack of gummi bears! And you'd even get money back!”

Rainbow Dash tried giving him the sternest expression she had in her repertoire, which was somewhat ineffective, as she tried addressing the camp as a whole. “Look, it doesn't matter what you think or what you want or what else is wrong with this world. Either you're here to support Spike, or this is the wrong place and the wrong time, and you should get lost.”

A stallion stepped up to Rainbow Dash, his headband unable to keep strains of his long, unkempt green mane from flying all over his face like the chains of a starting swing ride. He looked at her with eyes red beyond his irises. “But there are things that totally need to be said; things, like, that need to be changed. Like the destruction of mother nature by ponies all around Equestria. Every day the Clousdale weather factory is totally polluting the ocean and corporations are cutting down thousands of acres of trees. Like, nopony ever asked the trees if they wanted to be cut down.”

“What does that have to do with anything!?” Rainbow yelled at him furiously. “If you wanna save trees, fine. But why don't you do it somewhere else; somewhere where ponies actually cut down some trees.”

“But this is, like, a library,” the Headband defended himself. “They're, like, cutting down hundreds of trees to make these books. Nopony ever asked the trees if they wanted to be turned into books.”

Rainbow ground her teeth at him and made no effort to hide it. This had reached a level of pointlessness far exceeding a discussion about licorice prices. “The paper for the books doesn't come from the library itself,” she said, very slowly. “Additionally, you may have noticed that this library is built into a tree. An actual live tree, which it saved from being cut down this way. You can't possibly have a problem with that.”

The Headband didn't move. “Nopony ever, like, asked this tree if it wanted to have a library built into it,” he said.

Before Rainbow could do anything foolish, a mare approached her from the midst of the camp. “He might be brisk about his position, but he definitely has an important point, my rainbow-hued comrade.” Her left hoof pulled Rainbow into a tight embrace, which gave her an uncomfortable taste of the former's bright red coat. “This is about far more than just the injustices a local librarian imposes on her assistant. This is about standing united against the iron hoof of the bourgeoisie trying to crush the working class and enslave us all like a bunch of mangy dogs.”

Rainbow Dash successfully slipped from under her arm. “Look...” she started, but could not think of a proper response.

This the Red Coat knew how to capitalize. “Do you now see, comrade?” she asked. “Have the scales finally fallen from your eyes? How we must defend ourselves against the fascist, oppressive plutocracy enforced by the head of the snake itself, the ruthless and undisputed despot called Celestia?”

“Um, I don't really understand what's going on,” Spike piped up, looking as lost as a coin behind a sofa cushion, “but I don't think we need to defend ourselves against Celestia. I never heard her do anything to anypony.”

The Red Coat shot him a belittling smile. “Oh my little friend, you're still so young and still so gullible.” She pulled him into the same one-armed bear hug Rainbow had been caught in. “One day you will grow up to realize that the Royal Guards are just a cover up for a humongous surveillance apparatus, monitoring our every move and manipulating our every thought with their propaganda.”

“They are?” Spike asked, eyes full of wonder and worry.

“They most certainly are, comrade. And whenever they spot the slightest signs of opposition, they stomp it into the ground with the full force the military can provide.”

“They do?” Spike said, fighting for air. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but the Red Coat managed to hold him even tighter.

“Sure they do,” the Red Coat said, letting Spike back down. “They want you to believe that they're your guardians and protectors, but in truth it's all just a conspiracy to keep the public in the dark about the fascist atrocities the so called 'Princess' Celestia commits every day.”

“Wow!”

Spike was still marveling at these revelations when Rainbow yanked him out of the Red Coat's grip. “Spike, can I talk to you?” She didn't wait for a response and started dragging him towards the other side of the lawn.

“Listen,” she began once they were out of earshot from the others, “this is your strike and you're in charge, but if you ask me, you should get rid of these wackos as soon as possible.”

Spike raised an irritated brow at her. “But didn't you say I should get all the help I can? Didn't you talk about strength in numbers? Shouldn't that number be as high as possible?”

Rainbow bit her stuck-out tongue, but that didn't hurt as much as the words it would have to form. “Yes, I did say that,” she said. “But I was wrong. It's not about just getting as many ponies on your side as you can. You only want those that care for what you're doing.”

Spike scratched his head “They seem to be caring plenty about what I do. They're even supporting some of my claims I never even heard about.” Spike raised his arms as if trying to hold the entire world. “And they're teaching me so much. I didn't know anything about the pollution by the Cloudsdale weather factory. Or Princess Celestia's fascist atrocities. I still don't even know what these words mean.”

“They mean that they don't know what they're talking about,” Rainbow replied. “That's why you shouldn't listen to them. And that's why you shouldn't let them join your strike. With those... It may look like they're helping, but they're really just helping themselves.”

“But they are helping,” Spike defended. “They wrote all those signs and they set up all those tents and they even helped me write a protest song. You wanna hear?”

“Do I?” a pink bolt of lightning, formerly known as Pinkie Pie, said, with a grin that wouldn't take no for an answer.

He ran over to his tent as fast as he could, his friends following close behind, and grabbed a guitar (courtesy of Pinkie Pie) from the inside. Since his arms where much too short to properly reach most of the guitar's neck, he applied a capo about halfway down the strings, which gave the instrument more of a ukulele sound than anything else. He struck his claws down the strings, and satisfied with the tuning, started to sing with a voice that carried over the passion from his heart:

“Come gather round fillies, it's high time ye learn

'bout a dragon on strike with a valid concern.

I can tell that I'm worth so much more than I earn,

for I earn only blame and neglect.

Here I stand and demand for the tables to turn

to a side that provides some respect.

Now hear me you ponies of unwritten name.

There are plenty of you who have suffered the same.

At times you may feel like we're losing the game

and you feel like our foe is too tough.

But united we stand, still defending our claim,

and we'll win, for we're calling their bluff.

So we'll march day and night, every minute and hour.

They have the books, but we have the power.

So we'll march day and night, every minute and hour.

They have the books, but we have the power.”

As his fingers struck the final chord, he reopened his eyes and looked up expectantly at the judgment of Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.

The latter eyed him carefully, like an art critic checking a masterpiece for signs of forgery. “That,” she deemed with small pauses between every word for dramatic effect, “was fantastic! I absolutely loved it! And I think it would be even better with some maracas and some...”

Above their heads, a window to the library rapidly swung open. “Will you shut up!” the voice of Twilight Sparkle roared down to the camp below.

“Never!” the entire camp shouted back up in return.

The window shut once again, and on the other side, Twilight returned to her writing desk, looking through a stack of papers right away. “They're always doing something,” she complained. “If it's not singing, then it's dancing, or yelling their slogans, or something equally noisy. How's a pony supposed to think with all that racket!?” A strand of hair above her right eye popped out of her mane like a jack in the box, and many others looked ready to follow. “I swear, they're doing all of this just to irritate me!”

Standing behind her, Applejack and Rarity exchanged a worried look, uncertain if Twilight had been addressing them or talking to herself.

“Twi,” Applejack said, “you feeling alright?”

Twilight turned to her friends, her left eye twitching like the lights of a cheap Las Pegasus neon sign. “Of course I'm feeling alright! Why wouldn't I!?” she said, her words twisted by the sarcasm oozing off her lips. “Because I'm looking for my copy of The Grand Theory of Thermodynamics in Enchantments and have no idea where I put it!? Because I can't send this letter to Princess Celestia, since not even the snail mail comes around here anymore to pick it up!? Or because I've run out of quills and whenever I try to carve one of Owloysius's shed feathers into shape, they just break off!?” To demonstrate her point, she took one of the previously broken off feathers and broke it a second time in a different place.

It was awful. Every word she said, every move she made, only made Twilight look even more exhausted. The bags under her eyes were big enough to be rented out as birthday bouncing castles. Applejack couldn't take it anymore. “You don't look too right to me. I think you should take a break,” she suggested.

Twilight rummaged around her desk. “I can't! There's too much stuff to do. I still have to sort my papers for the essay Princess Celestia is waiting for, I have to go through the outdated books in the basement, and I still haven't compiled the list for the pending late fees for this month. And on top of that, it's like cleaning this place takes all day alone.”

Rarity walked over and placed a comforting hoof on her friend's shoulder. “I know it's hard, darling,” she said, “but you must persevere. You mustn't let them get to you like that.”

Twilight didn't even bother to turn around at that.

Rarity retracted her hoof. “And we'll be here for you every step of the way,” she said. “If we can hold out just a little longer, this affair will dissolve into nothingness, and Rainbow Dash will have to admit once and for all how silly her idea was in the first place.”

Again, there was no visible reaction from Twilight.

Rarity attempted to lead the way with a smile of her own. “Of course once this strike business is behind us, I'm sure Spike will forget all about it and everything will go back to the way things were.”

At these words,Twilight turned around and was able to almost, but not quite, wipe the frown off her face. At least a little bit of her stress seemed to slowly evaporate.

But every inch Twilight's frown lost, its cousin on Applejack's face recompensed. “Rarity, can we talk in the kitchen? Now!?” she said, already leading the way while making sure to hide her face from Twilight. Rarity had no choice but to obey.

Once Rarity had followed behind her and she had made sure the door was closed, Applejack decided to give it to Rarity straight. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Rarity answered innocently. “I'm trying my very best to comfort her and lift her spirits.”

“But look at her!” Applejack almost shouted, but managed to restrain herself. “She can't keep it together as is, and you're telling her to go through with this!?”

“Of course I do. By showing her as much support as we can, I'm certain she can hold out much longer than they can, and we will emerge victorious from this. There's no need to worry about Twilight. Why, it's only been one measly day and...”

“Exactly!” Applejack interrupted. “It's been one day and she's already looking like this! What'll she look like tomorrow? Or the day after that? Or next week? She needs to end this, right now!”

“And what are we supposed to do?” Rarity bit back. “Just give up? Just let Rainbow Dash get away with this? No, we need to hold out and teach her a lesson. We need to...”

“I can't believe this!” At this point, Applejack didn't bother to keep her voice down anymore. “You hearing yourself!? Twilight's a nervous wreck and you're only talking about Rainbow Dash! Are you really willing to risk her health over some stupid argument you had!?”

Rarity blew out her cheeks. She looked at Applejack with a look that could kill, ready to jump down her throat in an instant. Applejack's allegations had been as infuriating as they were insulting. She couldn't let something like that go, and although it left her temporarily speechless, she prepared to fight back, to defend her actions, and to argue Applejack's accusations into the ground.

But she never did. Because she couldn't. Applejack's allegations might have been infuriating and insulting, but they had to be, because one thing they were not: false. Just getting a single second to think about it, she knew her friend was right. She had been advising Twilight for all the wrong reasons and the strike had to stop.

“I'm sorry,” Rarity said, facing the ground. “I don't know what I was thinking. This isn't doing anypony any good, most of all Twilight. We must end this before it's too late.”

Applejack smiled at her. “Glad you're back to common sense.”

Rarity lifted her head back up. “I think it's best if we go talk to her right away,” she said.

“Alright,” Applejack said, opening the kitchen door. “I bet if she hears from both of us, she'll be back to normal in a snap.”

But coming back to the writing desk and seeing a frustrated Twilight scribbling away at her notes with the repeatedly broken quill didn't make her so sure anymore.

“Twi,” Applejack began,” we talked and...”

“Yes, I heard,” Twilight hissed. “And just as loud as those protester down there. Thank you so much for that!”

Applejack didn't react. “Sugarcube, we're really worried about you. We don't think you can take much more of this strike.”

“What!?” Twilight spun around as quickly as the throwing arm of a catapult. “So this is how it's going to be? When times get hard and things get tough, you just turn your tail and run? And not only that, you try to take me with you? You try to stab me in the back and turn me into a coward?”

“Twilight, please! It's nothing like that!” Rarity chimed in. “But this whole ordeal is turning you into a mess. Have you looked into a mirror lately? Your once neat and plain, yet somewhat charming coiffure has turned into something I couldn't fix in a day-long make over session.”

Twilight didn't need to look. She could feel the tangled ends of her mane all over her head. She could figure that it was in as much disarray as her brain below. Any thought she was trying to form went all over the place, eventually generating nothing but a headache. She rubbed her head to make it go away.

“I... I... I...” she said, but the next 'I' didn't make what she was trying to say any clearer than the previous one, neither to her nor the others.

“Alright,” she began after a while, “I'll admit I have been feeling a little stressed lately, but it's nothing to worry about. All I have to do is finish my chores, and you'll see, I'll be feeling much better.”

“No, you won't!” Applejack reckoned. “The state you're in, you won't get anything done. You'll be all stubborn and reckless, and you'll only get more and more angry and frustrated. I beg you, sugarcube, just stop now. It ain't worth it.”

“I'll be fine!” Twilight assured. “I appreciate the concern, but I know what I can handle. I can see that I should be careful not to work myself into the ground, but I'm sure I'm not in over my head on this one.”

Twilight tried to comfort her friends with a forced smile, which only made things worse. But still, when Twilight didn't want to see reason, there was little her friends could do about it.

“You sure?” Applejack asked.

“I'm sure.”

“Are you really sure,” Rarity pressed.

“Yes I am.”

“Are you absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent—”

“Yes, I am one-hundred percent certain I'll be fine,” Twilight said, and she really meant it. In her lifetime, she had dealt with much more stressful situations than this one and had always prevailed, one way or another. She was sure this time would be no exception, and she wanted her friends to realize that.

But her legs betrayed her. They started to shake violently, like a jackhammer on the loose, and just like a jackhammer on the loose, that wasn't a state they could sustain for an extended period of time. Applejack caught her before she could fall.

“Thanks,” Twilight said as she regained her footing.

“Don't mention it,” Applejack replied as she let go of her friend.

Rarity had stared at the situation worriedly “Will you now consider?” she asked.

Twilight took a good look into the pleading eyes of both her friends and they helped her form a decision. “I can't,” she said. “If I quit now, Spike would pick up all the wrong signals from this. I can't have him think you can run away when dealing with a problem. I can't have him think this is the way grown ups are supposed to handle their disputes instead of talking about them. If I quit now, what would stop him from trying this again and again and again?”

“If that's your decision, we'll support you all the way,” Rarity replied. It was at least a somewhat reasonable course of action for Twilight, but it still left a very sour aftertaste in Rarity's and Applejack's mouth.

“But you're right about one thing,” Twilight began, sending at least some relief their way. “I really do need to take a break. I think I'll lie down for an hour or two.”

“Good call,” Applejack said. “We'll stay here and take care of the library for you. And if you need anything, you just call us.”

“I will. Thanks,” Twilight said already moving towards her bed. Once she had gotten some sleep, things would surely look much less bleak.

* * *

Meanwhile on the front lawn, Rainbow Dash had been unable to effectively argue her case to Spike.

“I'm not telling you to abandon the whole thing and send everypony home,” she told him. “But those nut jobs – you have to get rid of them. They're no good for you. I can feel that.”

Spike chewed on his knuckle. “I don't know,” he said. “It doesn't feel right to only send them home and keep everypony else. And besides, wouldn't they get mad? Wouldn't they tell their friends to leave as well? Wouldn't the others see and think they're next? Or that I don't appreciate their support and hard work? Wouldn't the others leave as well and leave me all by myself?” In hypotheticals the young dragon proved once more to be second not even to Twilight.

“They won't leave you,” Rainbow assured. “And even if, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe this strike was a little rash. Maybe we should go back to square one and try talking to Twilight again. I bet she's cooled off by now. What do you think?” she asked hopefully.

“No!” Spike said, without taking a second to consider. He crossed his arms, but quickly released them again. “I can't quit now. If I do, I won't have gained anything and everything will be just like before.”

“But Spike—”

He stopped her with the palm of his claw. “I know. Stopping the strike doesn't mean things will go back to the way they were. We can still talk to Twilight and maybe she did change her mind.

“But maybe she didn't. And if that's the case, what am I supposed to do? I can't just call off the strike and call it back on again whenever I feel like it.” He looked at Rainbow Dash with the determination of a mountaineer starting his ascent. “I have to go through with this.”

“No you don't,” Rainbow said. “I can tell you: no matter what happens, Pinkie and I will always stick by your side. Somehow we'll find a way.” Her earnest expression left no doubt about the sincerity of that statement.

“If you go on with this strike, something bad will happen,” she continued. “I just know it. Those crazy protesters – they're trouble. And they're gonna get you in trouble.” She walked a step closer to him. “And trust me, I know a thing or two about trouble.”

But it was too late; something wicked was already on its way in the guise of an angry mob of smaller, yet comparable size realtive to the picket. At its head marched Mayor Mare with two other town officials and two Royal Guards. It was the corresponding warm front to Spike's cold front and their imminent collision would resolve the only way it could.

“Who's the one responsible for all this?” Mayor Mare asked once she and the others had reached the center of the camp.

In an instant, Spike could feel a thousand hooves pointing his way, with Mayor Mare following the lead.

“So you're the one in charge,” she pointed out. She looked back to the official to her left, who stopped adjusting her pince-nez and gave the mayor a scroll.

Mayor Mare unfolded the scroll and began to read: “It has come to my attention that, on the lawn in front of the Ponyville Library, there is an assembly of demonstrating nature that, under city ordnance, paragraph seventy-three, section eleven, subsection two, has not been registered in town hall a week prior to the gathering, and is therefore illegitimate. It is to be countermanded, and all participants are to disperse immediately.” Over the scroll, she demandingly looked into Spike's eyes.

And she wasn't the only one. Every hoof pointing had been replaced by two eyes looking. They all awaited the decree of their king and his, essentially, life or death decision for the strike.

He looked around for anything that could help him or anypony with a piece of advise and, pushed aside by the incoming mob, he found Rainbow Dash. She didn't say anything and she didn't need to. He could easily read her mind. It read, do it.

She definitely had a point. What she had said had come true. It might not have been the fault of those protesters in particular, but the appearance of Mayor Mare with two Royal Guards in tow definitely meant he was in trouble and it was likely to get worse from there. He didn't even know what they would do if he resisted. The guards might even throw him in jail. It was a completely needless risk. And yet...

“No!” he declared.

An incredulous silence befell the entire lawn. Nopony could believe his ears.

“What did you say?” Mayor Mare asked. The entire mob as well as the camp leaned in to listen more closely, almost certain they had misheard him before.

“I said no!”

Their king had spoken and his subjects met him with exuberant jubilation. They gathered around him, lifted him up in the air, and carried him shoulder high. Many expressed their acclaim with exclamations like 'That's right', 'Stick it to her', and 'United we stand'; a couple of protesters in the back could even be heard shouting 'Down with licorice prices!' over and over again. All in all, the camp made one thing very clear: all of it wouldn't budge even an inch.

From the midst of the mob, a stallion in a suit stepped forward, his overly gelled mane bouncing back and forth like a bowl of jello. “Ha!” he announced. “You asked for it. Guards, go ahead and seize them. All of them!”

The guards exchanged a brief awkward look. “We can't,” one of them said.

“What do you mean, you can't?” the Gel-Mane asked. “They're breaking the law! Just lock them up!”

“We can't,” the guard repeated, “because, while municipal law applies, we actually do not have the authority to execute it. All we can do is tell them to stop. If they don't obey...” He rubbed his hoof awkwardly, which looked pathetic for a guard.

The Gel-Mane angrily threw a hoof in the air. “That's just typical for Celestia's socialist secret police; overruling laws whenever they feel like it and protecting defiant, ungrateful whelps from the righteous indignation of ponies with common sense.”

He stepped forward and looked at the protesters like one would observe plants in a horticultural show. “I could buy and sell all of them,” he yelled. “Why, they should be grateful I don't decide on taking a crossbow to hunt them down for sports like the primitive animals that they are!”

The guard stepped and held the Gel-Mane by his shoulder. “Sir, what you just said can easily be interpreted as a threat, for which I would have to arrest you. I therefore must ask you to retract that statement.”

The Gel-Mane was beside himself. He muttered various demeaning comments about Celestia's socialist police into his boots before eventually giving it a rest. “Fine!” he agreed as he walked back into the mob without ever actually retracting anything.

Now Mayor Mare's assistant with the pince-nez piped up: “But we can't let them get away with this. Otherwise ponies will stop abiding whatever law they feel like and we'll descend into a world of chaos and anarchy, with ponies locking themselves in their basement, attacking all travelers who try to seek shelter from the storm, as they roam the streets and rummage the garbage cans for food, fending of ferocious animals for a single scrap of bread.” She brought her hooves to her head suppressing a scream. “Can't you imagine the horror!?”

“But what can we do?” the guard asked into the crowd.

That was indeed a good question which was met by much murmuring all around.

“I know,” a voice emerged from the mob's midst, “we should go to Tent Peg's Camping Emporium and set up our own camp, protesting their protest.”

More murmuring went through the crowd, which quickly dissolved into approval. The entire mob, including Mayor Mare and her officials, turned around and rapidly moved towards the Camping Emporium. One pony in the middle of the crowd seemed particularly eager, pushing and shoving all others aside, eventually making its way to the top. He was the first to enter the store and immediately took his rightful place behind the counter, ready and eager to serve his first customer.