Crystal Pony Independence Referendum
A logo with black blocks and white letters flashed in front of a red background, as a handsome-looking stallion sat in front of a news desk.
“This is the EBC, and we now return to our ongoing coverage of the Rockish Independence Referendum,” he spoke in a deep voice and bold text that will be easy to recognise during the rest of this chapter.
The screen flashed to a stock scene of Rockland, or, as it used to be known, the Crystal Empire. Crystal buildings towered into the sky, the streets were made of crystal, and even the ponies shimmered like crystals.
“For hundreds of years, Rockland to the North has been an inseparable part of the Unified Kingdom. Well, save for that one unfortunate incident where it was buried underground for an eon after a unicorn from Equestria enslaved them all and turned it into the Crystal Empire… but other than that whole business, Rockland has been part of the Unified Kingdom for many years.”
The news footage cut to a picture of King Somber, a dark black stallion wearing red royal robes and smiling a brilliant yellow, terrible smile with crooked teeth. He had a red horn for some bizarre reason.
“However, tomorrow there will be a vote in Rockland about whether or not it will secede, and break the union of the Unified Kingdom. Right now, the vote is too close to call.”
The screen cut to footage of hundreds of crystal ponies waiting in a queue, around the block. It was recycled footage from the queue to the Equestria Games’ cricket match, however. The actual election hadn’t yet taken place, and Doctor Whooves wasn’t available to capture any footage from the future.
“The rolls of eligible voters have been expanded, and sixteen-year-olds, who have already been able to drive and buy fags for years, are now allowed to vote as well, thanks to the efforts of the Junior Suffragists.”
The screen cut to a group of crystal pony youths, who carried “yes” signs and all sang a song rather reminiscent of that song about women’s votes that was in Mary Poppins. It’s alright if you don’t recall it, and I’m dreadfully sorry for making such an obscure reference.
“Additionally, Equestrian citizens residing in Rockland will also be able to vote on this important issue.”
“Should Rockland be independent? How should I know? I’m originally from Marewood Forest in Equestria, and live here because of my work. I have three kids and I’m much too busy to focus on politics,” said a pegasus mare with a microphone up to her mouth.
“We need your opinion for this news broadcast,” said the interviewer.
“Well… you see…” she said, blushing slightly.
The reporter moved her microphone closer to the mare.
“You aren’t going to let me alone until I give an answer either way, are you?”
The camera swiveled from side to side.
“Oh, bother. Then my answer is ‘no,’ I suppose. Less thinking for me to have to do,” she said, shrugging, as she scratched the back of her head with her hoof.
“This mare isn’t the only pony who is vehemently against the separation of our longstanding union. The author of the beloved Daring Do series of books has thrown her weight and money behind the ‘no’ vote.”
Flashbulbs flashed as A. K. Yearling sat in front of a white background, behind a table, signing autographs, as reporters asked her question after question.
“Is it true that Cabalerron is gay?” asked one reporter.
“Why does Daring Do never reveal the identity of her father?” asked another.
“What is your opinion on the Rockish independence referendum?” asked the third.
“The Unified Kingdom should remain as one,” said Daring Do. “Do you lot have any idea how difficult it will be to re-write all of my books to ret-con it into being a separate country? The whole bundle of them will have to be parsed! Daring Do and the Unfortunate Queue, Daring Do and the Perilous Gambit, and most of all, Daring Do and the Chamber of Crystal, which takes place almost entirely in Rockland.”
The questions stopped for a moment. Finally, a single stallion raised his hand. A.K. Yearling pointed over to him.
“Uh, you do realize, Miss Yearling, that you don’t have to re-write your books, correct? If ‘yes’ wins, you can just have your old books be set before the date of the vote in time, and have the ones after be set--”
“My books are supposed to be timeless!” A.K. Yearling snapped. “Dating them would demean them.”
"Even louder and more famous voices than Miss Yearling have spoken up in favour of the ‘no’ side. Queen Celestia the Second has also weighed in on the subject, as have Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armour, the Equestrian-appointed royal governors of Rockland."
The three royal ponies all sat in a fancy room of a posh castle, with gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, mahogany panelling on all the walls, and priceless china to hold the tea.
“It would simply tear me apart to see my land simply torn apart,” said Queen Celestia II, as a single teardrop fell from her wrinkled old eye and landed in her teacup, making a dainty splash.
Her head jolted up. “Percival! A new cup of tea!” she shouted. A shimmering crystal butler galloped over, took the old cup of tea, and poured the Queen a new one.
“It would be especially dreadful if we lost Rockland, because Cadance has a new royal baby due,” said Shining Armour.
Cadance’s horn lit up, as her belly became invisible, and the viewers could all witness the foetus inside via magic. The young pup was silently sobbing, as it held a tiny little pennant which said “no” on it. Then, the baby kicked at Cadance’s womb in frustration.
“It’s a girl; her name is Skyla,” said Cadance. “While we’re on the subject, abortion should be illegal.”
“The tut-tutting and neigh-saying of the royals hasn’t stopped the Rockish premier, Igneous MacDunite, from expressing his desire for an independent Rockland.”
A shimmering gold stallion with a black mane and a kilt on his flank stood in front of the proud crystal city of Glasscow.
“Aye, vote aye. We musn’t let those bluudy Equestrians rool us ennah longah! We demand our independence! We’ll have free education, free healthcare--’
“Uh, the EHS is already free at point-of-service in Equestria,” the reporter cut in, moving her microphone in further towards him.
“Aye, but here, socialised medicine will be so free that we’re gunnah pay YOO to go to the doctah!” he said, stomping his hooves on the ground, which rumbled at his great strength.
“How do you propose to fund such a scheme?” said the reporter.
“Simple, lassie,” said the stallion. The camera panned out as he motioned with his hoof towards the crystal mountains beyond. “We have crystals a-plenty in the mountains! And all the revenue from ‘em is gunnah go straight to us and nae to Equestria!”
“The ‘yes’ campaigners have frequently cited the desire to run their own finances using money from the crystals in the crystal mines. They don’t want to pay their taxes to the crown, much like another certain rebellious former Equestrian territory-which-shall-not-be-named. But after hundreds of years of mismanagement and plunder by the late King Somber, the former Crystal Empire’s mines may be running lower than the analysts have predicted before, and outputs are slated to plunge by as much as fifty per cent over the next few decades.”
The scene shifted to a dark and dingy mine, lit only by gaslight. The reporter shined her light on a crystal pony who was so covered in black dust that one could not see his shimmering coat below.
“I cannah find any more crystals!” said the stallion, throwing his hooves in the air. “Vote no!”
“But economic reasons aren’t the only factor. Some crystal ponies are more concerned with culture. Here is our pony-on-the-street interview in Glasscow.”
On a grassy, green field full of frolicking sheeps and ewes, a bekilted crystal stallion stood, playing a crystal bagpipe. It sounded absolutely dreadful, since crystal is a terrible conductor of sound. The camera jolted up and down as the camerastallion tried to cover his ears with one hoof while holding the camera with the other.
The reporter asked, “So…. why do you…” she gritted her teeth as the terrible feedback from the microphone grazed her ears like hoofnails on a chalkboard.
The stallion quit playing. “Sorry aboot that, lassie. I was just playin’ a wee song on me bagpipe. And I’m gunnah eat me some haggis made’a crystal sheep stomach!”
The camera panned over to a long wooden picnic table, where a half dozen crystal ponies sat eating lunch. One mare brought a fork up to her mouth, eating the crunchy crystal stomach full of other crunchy, rock-hard crystals.
“Ah, I fink at is me last toof!” the mare exclaimed, giving a gummy smile like Pinkie Pie’s signature pet alligator.
Another mare at the table said, “Vote yes! We don’t wanna be part of NETO anymore, neither. Get those Equestrian megaspell bombs off of Rockish land!”
The reporter moved her microphone towards the mare. “How do you propose that you’ll defend your new country if ‘yes’ wins and they remove the bombs?”
“We’ll just join the Stirrupean Union,” said one of the crystal ponies.
“Nae, they’ll never take us,” said the bagpipe pony. “To defend our great land, we’d be better off throwin’ logs at our enemies!”
He grabbed a giant caber from the ground and heaved it over towards the reporter. It missed her, but it hit the camera, smashing it to pieces.
“We could nae even defend ourselves. It only took a single unicorn to enslave us all! We need Equestria to defend us. Vote ‘no!’” one of the crystal stallions said.
“Average citizens in Equestria are torn about this too. Here is our pony-upon-the-street interview in Ponyborough-upon-Everfree.”
In the centre of Ponyborough-upon-Everfree, there stood the mane six, giving interviews to the reporter.
“Oh, it would be dreadful if Rockland were to secede,” said Rarity, throwing her chin in the air and dramatically wiping her brow with her hoof. “They won’t be able to keep the Equestrian shilling as currency, you know. So how will I buy those gorgeous crystals for my dresses? I could always ask incredibly politely, I suppose.”
“As a party mare, I know when ponies have overstayed their welcome, and the Crystal Ponies certainly have. They should take their drunken selves home and vote ‘yes!’” Pinkie exclaimed.
“If Rockland seceded, then who will solve all six of our gun crimes? Rockland Hard is the best detective service in all the land. Vote ‘no’, Rockland, if that’s all the same with you,” said Fluttershy.
“Oy, those tossers had better not secede!” said Rainbow Chav, blowing a condescending smoke cloud towards the north. “I fly up to Glasscow on the weekends to load up on cheap fags! I’m not standin’ in a queue for hours just to get a passport stamped!”
“If I might suggest that you quit smoking,” said Fluttershy meekly.
“Yeah, and this is a children’s show, innit?” asked Pinkie Pie. “The censors must be awful lax.”
Rainbow Chav laughed. “You wot, mate? Only losers and Frenchmares quit! No, if ‘yes’ wins, I’m not quittin.’ I’d just pay more for fags over here and end up skint.”
She turned out her burberry trouser pockets, and a single fly flew out.
“No, Geordie Bob! Come back!” yelled Rainbow Chav, dashing after her pet fly.
“Course I support ‘yes!’ Aye, if ‘yes’ passes, I’m movin’ straight back in with me crystal clan!” said Applejack. “We can cook the best crystal meths known to ponykind! And then, we’re a gunnah brew a--”
The scene cut out, and somewhere at the EBC, a news producer found himself sacked for allowing such a dreadful mare-on-the-street interview to air. Then, it returned to the anchor at the EBC news desk.
“In conclusion, the Rockish independence referendum is a complex and emotionally-charged issue. Regardless of the outcome of the vote, hopefully the citizens of Equestria and Rockland can maintain their mutual tradition of politeness and respect.”
Simon the dragon flipped the telly remote, turning off the EBC as he turned over towards Owlowicious, who sat inside of his owl cage.
“I simply don’t understand it, Owlie. I just watched that entire program, and I still haven’t the slightest idea why they want to secede. They give conflicting answers. Will they be able to keep the Equestrian shilling, or not? Do they have enough crystals to sustain themselves, or don’t they? Is it cultural, or economic? Both? I don’t understand why!”
Owlowicious shrugged. “Who,” he hooted.
“Not who, Owlie, Why. Though I do agree with you that The Who was the greatest Equestrian invasion rock band of the last century, and Quadrophilomena was undoubtedly a masterpiece album. It still doesn’t answer my query.”
Simon sighed as he slouched back in his seat.
“Twilight!” he shouted.
With a flash, Twilight Sparkle teleported over to him. “What is it, Simon?”
“I watched a whole program but I still don’t understand why Rockland wants to secede, or even what any of it is about.”
Twilight Sparkle chuckled. “I don’t think anypony does, Simon.”
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This kinda sums up my thoughts..... I'm confused about this.
nice work of art you got here ...much like current ahem situation going on it doesnt explain anything
Aye, such is truth! Wee namblies you are, tryin'ta tell us wot we cannae do within our own borders!
The rferendum looks like a whole lot of emotions and not much planning. Kinna like a story with a Mary Sue OC... lots of talking-up, very little substance.
Pretty much Scotland Independance is predicated on wishful thinking and ideas about 'freedom'.
The whole oil argument is laughable. The oil doesn't belong to Scotland. It belongs to the oil companies. Unless Scotland nationalizes them then they won't see a penny.
5020820
And I'd like to see Salmond try and nationalise a company (BP) that's based in London!
Celestia save the queen!
And now with more on this story we go to the pony version of Jone Oliver.
This can be really offensive you know, us British people aren't that bad.. we ain't as Fancee Smansee as you picture us to be..
5020820 Thank fuck there are still some people with sense.
Still awesome.
5020820 Socialized oil
5020929 I'm dreadfully sorry my good chap, and I hope I haven't offended your sensibilities.
5020810 Mareigh MacSue
I know for sure that I'm gonna either cringe or laugh uncontrollably while reading this.
The upside of being a brit who spends too much time watching stuff made by Americans.
5020929
Well don't let on for god's sake, we managed to build an empire by terrifying everyone into thinking that we were that bad.
How to get 16 year olds to vote: "Dude! Vote my way and you can have pot and booze!"
Every 16 year old (except me, because I was 10 billion time smarter than the average 16 year old), "Yay! Pot and booze!"
And then they vote for Hitler.
5020959 I have 67 cents! But I detect some varied scents in the air. Does that make sense?
English is weird.
5021011 Socialized oil...
Well, clearly that means Scotland will be just as well off as Venezue... uhm... no, ok as well off as Mexic... huh.
5020748 You still won't be able to have machine gun peg-legs and fight robot armies. Sorry.
The whole vote is a fraud.
5020810 Raw emotions tend to be very poor foundations for important decisions.
That's kinda how we end up with the majority of marriages ending in divorce after a few years.
5021121 Too late. Enough of us saw "Black Adder". We know you're a bunch of sorry fops!
5021294 "Think of England as the cool kids' table. If this bill passes you never get to sit there again."
A well balanced view of the issues currently affecting out nation(s) (Maybe)
5021333
Maybe that's what we want you to think...
After all, we had leaders like this, and we still won.
5021333
Actually, I tell a lie, in that we aren't lying (except when we are). I also have evidence here as to exactly why we need Scotland. It's because they possess our greatest weapon. And I'm not talking about trident. Watch, and be educated:
Being a quarter Scot, I'm really hoping the best for them. On the other hand, I'm also quarter Irish, and can't find much of a reason to give a damn.
Also I forget, isn't the current English crown of Scottish decent, or did I fuck up the lineages again?
5021421 Who cares dude! We get pot and booze! And we'll never need a job! And we can party all day! And have lots of sex!
*3 years later, he dies from a mutant virus called Ebolaids.*
And the moral of this story is: Wear a condom.
5021535 Meh, that's because the Germans kept screaming at each other in their really angry language and gave themselves depression.
5021692 I already know about the greatest weapon of the Scotts.
i.gyazo.com/3d6c13e6f17fac79b2eb196a8deac48a.png
5021717
They're actually of GERMAN Descent. Hence the eternal line from Blackadder:
5021853
Yes, but this is what she looked like when she was younger. Where else would she learn to be so terrifying? She's the other hero of Mboto Gorge you know.
fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/097/1/6/join_the_3rd_foot_and_mouth_by_smaggers-d3dftox.jpg
This just proves no one, not even ponies, wants to listen to the drivel politicians spew out.
5020748 Yeah! Rockland for the Rocks!
5022699 I like rocks. They're hard. And rocky. And are rocks.
Where are all the Scousers?
Good thing I'm Welsh, because I'm not touching any of this with a 50-foot pole.
5021328 It is why we are told not to make major decisions within six months minimum after the death of someone close, etc. Need to think with your brain, not your heart.
5027394 Absolutely!
Unless we want ice cream.
I ain't puttin' that off for six months!
5033519 Pssh. Important decisions you can't put off have to be dealt with regardless, so yeah. I ain't waiting 6 months for ice cream and pizza!
5034536 And beer. We can't forget the beer. Microbrew only. I'd like a stout, porter, or India pale ale...
This....this is.....my sides....I can't.....
Well done and thank you, good sir. You may have just added ten more years to my life from the sheer non-stop laughter I've been experiencing throughout this fic. Here, have a Fine English rendition of Pinkie's Laughter Song and Chav Gilda in addition to the customary like and fav:
fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2012/212/a/2/kevo_the_chav_gilda___killing_floor_by_drakefire3k-d59cpj6.png
5458731 I'm glad you liked it!
Er... I am pleased that the words upon the computer screen were pleasing to you, sir
This story was too funny, and TOO short! Welcome to Tag-A-Long's Book Club
i.imgur.com/BF6x9JM.png
5020717
I hear ya, buddy, I hear ya.
Good old Amareica