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In which Cranky Doodle doesn't shut up and Mayor Mare finds a bottle...2,260 words
In which Twilight has a plan and Colgate gets a new drinking buddy...2,765 words

In which Cranky Doodle doesn't shut up and Mayor Mare finds a bottle...

MAYOR MARE IS TOO OLD FOR THIS MAYORSHIP

By Einhander

Part One: In which Cranky Doodle doesn't shut up and Mayor Mare finds a bottle....

Time stood still in the town hall of Ponyville.

In her office, Mayor Mare stared at the citizen in front of her with a frozen grin. It was her second to last meeting of the day. It was supposed to only last five minutes. Ten, tops.

But her assistants had been called out of the room, and she was left on her own with one of the top talkers in Ponyville. One of the top complainers, anyway.

Cranky Doodle Donkey had walked into her office forty seven minutes ago.

And for forty-six minutes he had just… Not Shut. Up.

“So I says to Matilda I says…”

Mayor Mare stared at Cranky as he kept talking. Talking. And talking. He sat sprawled in the visitor’s chair, chewing gum and spitting (or was it drooling?) all over her chair and desk. It would be undignified pose for any pony, or donkey, or zebra, or really just any creature that had any self respect. The fact that he had a decaying off-black hair piece on top of his head helped nothing.

“…a good piece of pie, that goes for about three bits these days, that’s three times as many bits as I should be paying for pie, I tell ya…”

The hair piece. It bobbed up and down as he spoke. Many a pony had called the hair piece on top of his mug a dead cat, but Mayor Mare knew better. It wasn’t a dead cat. That was an insult to dead cats everywhere. She knew some cats, nice cats, that had died, and they would horrified at the comparison.

It did smell like a dead cat, but that was neither here nor there.

“But then you’re gonna what your ice cream. And what’s that gonna cost ya? Those Cakes are running a racket, I tell ya. Extra bits for frozen milk sugar water! Outrageous. Hey, you want any?”

He was offering his ‘gum’. She shook her head, a polite ‘no’. He shrugged. “Your loss. Finest tobacco in the region.”

The Mayor’s eyes went wide. Oh sweet Celestia no no no. Not tobacco juice. Not on-

Her eyes immediately went to the landing sites of his spittle. The prized mahogany desk. The upholstered chair. The handkerchief that Princess Luna had left behind when she was crying during Nightmare Night that the Mayor has discreetly hidden away, which was not creepy at all and in fact a tribute to the co-ruler of the land, that she had foolishly lent to Cranky… All of it. Covered in spit. Not just spit. Tobacco spit. The entire office would have to be quarantined and scrubbed. The handkerchief would need to be bleached, if it could be salvaged at all.

“And what’s the deal with sprinkles these days? They’re all the colors of the rainbow! When I was a young jack, chocolate was good enough for us!”

She considered what, exactly, the consequences would be if she threw the small Twilight alicorn statue on her desk right at his big fat head.

“I tell you, you just want a dessert, right? Just an old fashioned slice of pony-made pie. With free ice cream. And jimmies. For one bit, like they used to charge. And then you go to Sugarcube corner, and they give you this stuff, I swear they must have some funny ideas up in Canterlot…”

It would be a crime, for starters. Assault? Battery for sure. Although it would be her word against his, and she was a well respected public figure, and he was a well known crank. But certainly, there would be a scandal. Followed by an investigation. Outcry. Probably resignation. At the very least censure, and checking into a rehab facility. Not that she had a drinking problem. Not anymore.

But if meant this donkey would stop talking, she was willing to relapse.

“Hah! Canterlot, home of the best and brightest! You know, they got this prince up there, Blueblood, and this Princess, Cahooza, and riddle me this, Mayor- who are they related to? Not Celestia! She ain’t had no foals! And Luna just got outta the moon slammer, which don’t even get me started on that.”

Unless of course, if the paperweight went deep enough into his head…and he would probably be severely injured. Or dead.

On the other hoof- he would STOP TALKING.

“I’m being serious now, we got Princes and Princesses coming out our flanks, but who’s watching the money? Follow the money, you’ll find what’s what. Why, was I surprised to find that Twilight Sparkle, I’m sorry, Princess Twilight Sparkle, now an alicorn, was Celestia’s private student? Was I surprised to find that Cahooza, before she was Mi Amooza, was Twilight’s babysitter? AND Cahooza’s Celestia’s niece? Well tell me this, whose the father? Where’s the mother? I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”

Mayor Mare pondered the logistics of disposing of a dead body from her office. It would not be easy. Her assistants would know a donkey and a pony went in, and only a pony came out. But even if she could solve that problem, and she probably could with an order to go pick up something, how to get the body out of the office? She glanced at her window. It was only the second floor, a pony (or donkey) could survive that fall. Easy. No worries. But how to get a body out the window, onto the ground, and out of the city limits without anyone seeing? That would be a humdinger.

She would also need a shovel.

“And another thing. I think I should be grandfathered into the no tax provision. I’m aware I’m not a grandfather, but that’s just discrimination, if you ask me. And I’ve read your political party’s manifesto, mayor, and I strongly considered voting for you because of that anti-discrimination plank in your platform. Don’t make me take back that consideration.”

She blinked and shook her head. Her mind had gone to some very not good places. Plotting the murder and disposal of one of her annoying, but very innocent, citizens! How had it come to this?

“I was telling Twilight the other day, when she reminded me about Citizen Speak Up Day! I said to her-“

The Mayor’s eyes lit up with the fire of a thousand suns. She glanced at the statue on her desk.

Twilight Sparkle.

That meddling unicorn… alicorn…. Princess! Cock of the walk, flapper of wings and meddling of meddles! This was all her fault! Everything was fine in this many-horse town until that lavender terror showed up. True, she had done some good stuff… saving the world, organizing Winter Wrap Up, if you wanted to get technical about it.

But for every tri-color vest she had been awarded, there had been legendary screw ups. The Parasprite incident. That time the enchanted doll had driven the entire town mad. When she claimed her future self appeared to warn her about herself. When she had incurred the wrath of that travelling blue unicorn, what was her name, Twixie? And then she came back with that damn alicorn amulet and had gone buck wild.

And then Princess Twilight had the hooves to suggest ‘Citizen Speak Up Day.’ A day for any citizen to voice their concerns to the Mayor. Wonderful in theory, the Mayor thought.

Until she realized it meant that she, the Mayor, had to sit and listen to what they, the ponies had to say. The entire day. And this was just the first one of these. From now on, for one day a year, all the crazies would come out to play.

Twilight Sparkle, I am going to kill you.

“So that’s why, Mayor Mare, I demand you-“

“YES!” screamed the Mayor. “YES PLEASE SWEET ZOMBIE CELESTIA YES TELL ME WHAT DO YOU WANT, WHAT, FOR THE LOVE OF-“

After the outburst, there was a sudden calm. Cranky’s eyes were wide, his hairpiece had stopped wobbling and his jaw was dropped.

The Mayor cleared her throat.

“Mr. Donkey, we’ve been at this for… oh… fifty minutes now. What is it, exactly, that you want?”

Cranky coughed. “Er… I need a new parking permit for my cart.”

She stared at him.

Cranky was no coward. But when he saw the Mayor’s eyes twitch, he suddenly knew fear. “And I’d really appreciate it, ma’am. Sir. Um.”

“Of… course….” She said through gritted teeth. “Just… ask for an R-36 form on the way out.”

“R…”

“Thirty-six.”

“Thank you, uh, Mayor.” He tried to demurely spit up into the handkerchief, and succeeded in half his mission. He offered it to back to her.

“No. You keep that.”

Cranky nodded and hurried out, trying to put as much distance between himself and her stare as possible. The door shut behind him, and she breathed out a huge sigh.

Mayor Mare stared back up at the clock. Five minutes to go. That’s all that was left in the day. Then it would be over. Thank Celes-

“Excuse me, Mayor?” Senior Mint, a young stallion with a brown coat and black mane, poked his head in. “I’m so sorry, there’s just one more left…”

The Mayor groaned.

“I can tell her you’ve gone for the day?”

“No, no,” She shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s what I’m here for.”

Her assistant nodded. “I’ll send her in.”

“Who is it?”

“Twilight Sparkle?” There was a pause. “Sorry, Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

“Y-yes.” Her eye was twitching again “Did she say what about?”

“She said she has some suggestions on how to improve the town?”

A pause.

“She’s got charts and everything. And an easel. Looks like a big to do.”

The Mayor stared at Senior Mint, then out the window. “Give me five minutes.”

He nodded and shut the door.

The sun had set, and now Luna’s stars filled the sky. The Mayor looked at them longingly.

It’s just one meeting with Twilight. You don’t have to agree to anything. You don’t have to do anything at all. Just...

She picked up the alicorn statue, and slammed it into her desk. Her beautiful desk now covered in tobacco spit. She kept slamming it until it was nothing but broken pieces of wood.

The bottom drawer opened.

A bottle rolled out.

It went clink.

She stared at it. She stared at the door to her office, with that lavender alicorn on the other side. She stared at the window. Then back at the bottle.

It was Jameshoof blended whiskey. Her emergency reserve.

Just a sniff of it was like Hearts Warming Eve. Just a sniff…

Twilight paced in the reception area. Her charts were all primed and ready to go, along with copies of her reports and several visual aids. She was ready. She could do this. She just… needed permission to enter the room.

Mayor Mare’s assistant was quietly completing paperwork.

“Are you sure I can’t go in yet?”

“The mayor said she’d be ready for you in a few minutes.”

Twilight frowned. “How long has it been?”

“Not five minutes.”

“I thought I heard something breaking in there?”

“I’m sure the Mayor would have paged me if she needed something.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and went back to pacing. If only she had mastered that time travel spell, then she’d never have to wait for anything again.

Both ponies jumped at the sound of a glass breaking, followed by a thud. Twilight stared at the assistant, who was staring at the door.

“What was that?”

“Um… excuse me,” said Senior Mint, standing up and rushing to the door. He paused and turned to Twilight. “Wait here.”

He ducked into the mayor’s office. Twilight watched with concern, her speech to convince the mayor to build a second library evaporating in her head.

There was a scream from the Mayor’s office. Twilight rushed in. She found the Senior Mint on the ground, crying, clutching pieces of broken glass. The room smelled of booze. The window was wide open, and a cold breeze was blowing in.

“Oh no, not again!” wailed the assistant.

“What? What’s going on? Where’s the Mayor?”

Senior Mint looked at her through his tears. “The Mayor has… gone rogue.”

Twilight gasped, then blinked. “I actually don’t know what that means.”

“It means,” said the assistant with a sudden solemnity, “She has fallen off the wagon. “

“How much did she have?”

The assistant held up the fragment of the bottle. “This was full five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” said Twilight.

“Yes. ‘Oh.’” He shook his head.

The wind was picking up outside.They looked out the window.

Twilight cleared her throat, “She’ll be alright, I’m sure?”

In the distance, they heard the sound of glass breaking, and ponies fighting. And older mare’s voice could be heard above the din, screaming something to the effect of inquiring whether the other pony thought he or she was better than her.

Then there was the sound of more glass breaking and swearing.

Senior Mint shook his head, “Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.”

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