Ponyville Holds An Election

by Soufriere

Chapter 5 - Lincoln-Douglas This Is Not

The day of the Town Hall forum, all of Ponyville gathered in front of the old wooden landmark, where once again Raven had dutifully set up the collapsible stage and covered it in bunting. This time there were three podiums facing the crowd, arranged in a semicircle around a desk at which Twilight sat with a large stack of notecards.

By the time Berry Punch arrived after her latest blackout, the forum had already been in progress for nearly an hour.

“How goes it?” she asked Applejack

“It’s a mess,” Applejack admitted. “Filthy’s jus’ been goin’ at the mayor, accusin’ her of all sorts of things even I know she didn’t do. The Mayor’s tryin’ not to lose her cool. An’ Granny Smith… well, she’s just bein’ herself.”

From the stage, Twilight asked the latest question. “Okay, so, how do each of you propose to deal with Ponyville’s budget shortfall? Mayor Mare, you’re up first.”

“Well,” the Mayor began, “Since our requests for additional funds from Canterlot have thus far been ignored, I’m afraid we have no choice but to simultaneously raise taxes and cut back services. Once we get our town on a sound financial footing, we can restart projects. Until then, we must be frugal.”

“That’s a load of horse apples!” Filthy Rich interjected.

“Really?” both Twilight and the Mayor asked, flatly.

“Of course! The Mayor is presenting every pony here with a false choice! There’s nothing in Ponyville’s charter that keeps us from simply taking out a loan to pay for everything we need to do!”

“But loans come with interest rates,” Twilight reminded him, “How would you as mayor deal with that?”

“Simple! We cut taxes. That will put more ponies to work, which will raise our revenues, which will make us able to pay back our loans that much quicker. Besides, I know I can get a better rate than the Mayor could because, unlike her, I know how to talk to my friends in the banking industry.”

“I would rather not place this town in any more debt than it already has,” the Mayor said with minimal conviction. “Besides, if we sell off this town to the highest bidder, what do you think that would do to our quality of life?”

“It would improve it!” Filthy insisted. “Think about it: Ponies need to understand the value of a bit. Why not teach it to them from the moment they’re foaled? Everything has a cost, so I think we should force that cost out into the open. School should be pay to play. Same with our hospital. Ponies who can’t afford it should be turned away at the door.”

“Granny Smith, you’ve been awfully quiet for the past few minutes. Is there anything you would like to say?”

The ancient green Earth-pony cleared her throat and began her answer.

“Y’know, I’ve been around a long time. I remember back when they built the Municipal Building. They did it because they realized Town Hall here doesn’t have any space for offices or none o’ that. The mayor at the time was Hedley Spur, appointed by the Princess herself to try an’ bring this town into the modern age. Now, I ain’t gonna lie; I did fancy that boy somethin’ fierce – y’know I was quite a looker back in them days; couldn’t no pony turn me down if I asked – anyway, Spur (that’s what we all called him) told us that it was important he had his own office because he was tired of ponies comin’ to bug him at his house. Ya see, back then nearly every pony worked from home, because every pony worked a trade. We didn’t have none of these ‘useless’ cutie marks that don’t mean nothing like we got nowadays – no offense ta yer daughter, Filthy.

“Offense taken,” Filthy Rich seethed. Undaunted, Granny Smith continued.

“So we all chipped in to build a new city building. Y’know, that’s what we called it back then was the New Town Hall. But ponies were movin’ in from other places – even started getting Unicorns and Pegasuses (Pegases? Pegasi?) after awhile – and they didn’t know what we meant when we said ‘New’ Town Hall or ‘Old’ Town Hall. So we had to come up with a new name. Spur decided to call the new building ‘The Municipal Building’. Of course that’s a right big mouthful to say, so most of us just kept on callin’ it New Town Hall or City Hall. Well, that was the way it was for awhile. Still is, I guess.”

“So, uh,” Twilight was just as confused as the rest of the crowd, “Granny Smith, you run a business, or at least you did back in the day, yes? How do you think that experience makes you fit to be mayor of Ponyville?”

“It doesn’t!” snipped Filthy Rich.

“Shut yer pie-hole you dag-blamed whippersnapper!” Granny chastised him as a few ponies applauded. “Didn’t I tell you that makin’ Zap Apple Jam ain’t somethin’ ya can just jump into? It takes years of experience! Ah had to come up with all them rituals through trial and error. Even today, I been makin’ jam fer longer than most ever’pony here’s been alive, but I still care ‘bout the quality! If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be fit to call myself the best maker of Zap Apple Jam this side of the Brandywine. Well, I guess I’m the only one who makes Zap Apple Jam. Li’l Apple Bloom tried, but she just ain’t got it yet. No worries; she’ll figger it out eventually. In fact, she’s been doin’ some of that fancy book-learnin’ with that Zebra mare. What’s her name? Aw, I cain’t remember. Don’t matter. Apple Bloom likes her. May pick up some new tricks. Y’know, I didn’t used to like zebras none – with them weird accents and cutie marks that don’t stand fer nothin’. Worse than Unicorns from way back when. But I like to think I’ve mellowed out a little over the years. I even let Unicorns onto the farm nowadays.”

“Uh, Granny?” Twilight tried to interrupt, but she had neglected to inform any of the participants that she intended for there to be a time limit.

“Y’know, I remember when Spur retired. He’d been mayor for a long time by then. We didn’t want him to leave, but he told us how tired he was, an’ that bein’ the best hoof forward fer the city you love maybe oughta be a younger pony’s job. I dunno ‘bout that. With age comes experience, and I sure got both! I always thought Spur – we never stopped callin’ him that – just needed a change of scenery. Fortunately, the Princess picked a good replacement for him. Then, when that mayor retired, she picked another fine replacement, and so on and so on, fer I don’t know how long now. Mayor Mare ain’t no different. Well, except that she’s a lady. Tell y’all what, we’d never seen anything like it before: a lady mayor. She’s tryin’ her best in the face of a tough situation. I know from what all those stallions over the years told me, it ain’t easy runnin’ a city or a town or a village or whatever we call Ponyville these days, an’ I think our Mayor’s done a fine job. But if she wants to retire, then we should let her.”

“That’s all well and good,” Twilight finally got a word in edgewise, “But how would you propose to deal with the budget problem, Granny Smith?”

“Well, I’d just go up to any creditors or the Senate an’ try talkin’ to ‘em all nice-like. It’s amazin’ how persuasive you can be if’n ya extend a hoof of friendship.”

“That’s a load of horse apples!!” Filthy Rich roared.

“No it ain’t,” Granny countered before Twilight could, “You of all ponies should know that business is built on relationships an’ trust! So’s government. If two sides ain’t willing to talk to each other, then you cain’t build up trust and nothin’ gets done. I think the Nobles of the Celestial Senate might be more willing to listen to an old lady with a cart full of apple pies than some wet behind the ears business stallion who only knows how to make other ponies unemployed! You’ve never really talked with any ponies outside of yer fancy shmancy conferences. I have. An’ I can tell you they think about more than just numbers. I don’t like ‘em any further ‘n I can throw ‘em, but I’m willin’ to put aside my hangups ta try an’ get this town I helped build back on track.”

“Well, I…” Filthy Rich attempted to say, but Granny continued.

“It reminds of the time I went into town on Market Day to get me a new pot to make a batch of Zap Apple Jam. There was this new stallion runnin’ a booth, and he had all sorts of neat cookery he brought from Manehattan. But he kept barkin’ at us like a seller from the big city. Turned off all the other ponies. Well, he had what I wanted, so I said to him, I said, ‘Hun, this ain’t Manehattan. Ya gotta take a softer tone. Let ponies finagle with your pots. You’ll be more likely to make a sale that way.’ So he did, and he made probably twice as many bits as he would’ve. I bought one of his pots too. An’ lemme tell ya it’s the best dang thing in my kitchen. Of course that was a long time ago, so necessity meant I had ta start wearin’ it on my head, or else the Zap Apples won’t do up right. An’ that’s really what it’s all about. If stuff don’t work right, ya gotta keep experimentin’ for years ta find that perfect method. Then you’ll have perfect jam, and ponies’ll flock from all over the region to taste it. It’s the purest satisfaction, knowin’ somethin’ you’ve made makes ponies happy. Did I already say that? Oh, I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Twilight looked up to the sky and noticed the sun hanging lower on the horizon than she expected. “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for this forum,” she announced to the crowd. “Tomorrow, every pony in Ponyville who registered to take part in the referendum is encouraged to come vote here at Town Hall. We’ll start letting ponies in at sunrise and shut it down at sunset. To our three candidates, I wish you all the best of luck!”

Comments

[DarkDMan]

This is a fun story.