Of Barons and Queens
The Changeling and Jacob Rothschild were both seated on a private helicopter made of the highest quality steel and the tears of middle-class families across the globe (the tears were not the highest quality though, cause they are very rare, so you take what you can get). From out the window, he and the awe-struck Changeling could see the high-rise buildings of New York City, each of which only further amazed the latter of the two; his starry-eyed reflection having not the slightest effect on the dead silent Rothschild.
Despite that, for the banker, the flight from a [redacted] location in the United States to the Big Apple had been mostly fine.
“So, do all of your vehicles make this much noise?” the Changeling asked as it turned to face Jacob, a large, almost child-like smile on its face.
Keyword being mostly.
“No, they don't,” Jacob responded, venom filling his every word. “Now, shut your bloody mouth or I'll throw you into the rotary blades!”
“Yeesh, you were much more pleasant before you offered to help me,” the Changeling grumbled. It turned back around and peered back out the window. After a bit, it spotted something off in the distance that wasn't a skyscraper and gasped. “Hey, who's the big green lady?”
“A gift from a country where a good friend of mine lives,” Rothschild said as he resisted to the urge to throw the insectoid equine out of the helicopter. “Macaroni I think is his name.”
The Changeling snickered to himself. “You guys have funny names,” he said as he looked back at the expressionless banker. “Do you all pick names based on what your jobs are like the ponies do on my planet?”
Jacob raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Ponies? Your land has those things too?”
“Well, we have unicorns, pegasi, Minotaurs…”
Jacob shook his head in disbelief. “I hope George hasn't killed himself yet. I need him for when I try to build my bank in North Korea.”
The Changeling tilted his head. “Is that place anything like this place?”
Jacob shook his head again and let out a sinister chuckle. “Sure, little guy. It most certainly is.”
“Are there cool statues?”
Jacob raised his head and glared the Changeling in the eyes. “Ask another question and you'll find out yourself.”
The Changeling sunk down is its seat, opting to remain quiet for the rest of the flight (much to the delight of the Baron of Belligerence). After a short flight, the helicopter landed atop a building that, at first glance, could be taken for any other.
“Sir, we've arrived at the United Nations building.”
“Most excellent, Boris,” Jacob said as the helicopter door opened, revealing two tall men dressed in black suits. They ushered out the Baron and the Changeling, who couldn't have been more clueless as to what the hell the ‘United Nations’ was. (Well, he probably could have, because he figured out that due to its name, it was most likely a group of nations United, but that is not fun to read about, so we [redacted]) Regardless, he followed the men through a door and soon found himself in a building that, if he knew even a fraction of the history that had taken place there, he would've tried to burn it down.
“So, what's the purpose of this place?” the Changeling inquired as he and the three men walked down a long, hallway that had more than a dozen meeting rooms in it. “Do you guys just sit here and talk?”
“Not quite,” one of the men in black suits said, whose name tag simply had the letter L. “Here at the United Nations, we basically help prevent the world from obliterating itself with nuclear weapons.”
“That and we sanction other countries until they tear themselves apart!” the other man said, his name tag bearing the letter E. “Oh, and wait until the last second to intervene during horrific civil wars.” E turned to face L. “Wait, Syria still exists, right?”
L shrugged, at which point the Changeling turned to Jacob and asked, “What happened in Syria?”
“I dunno, want me to book you a flight to there before you go to North Korea?” Jacob asked, his face slowly forming an expression of malice.
“Um… I mean, if it's nice, I guess…”
“Your ignorance is beautiful, little creature,” Jacob said before he and the two men approached a large steel door. Rothschild slid a keycard into something and, after a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a room full of all sorts of high-class weaponry.
“Whoa.” The Changeling looked around at all of the fancy gadgets, gizmos, and Weapons of Mass Destruction. “What are these things?”
“This is where we keep all of the weapons seized from countries that shouldn't have them,” E said. “They're all extremely dangerous and could kill tens of thousands of innocent civilians.”
The Changeling's eyes shrunk. He slowly backed away from one of the chemical weapons and turned to face the trio. “A-and what happens if the countries somehow gets the weapons again?”
Rothschild chuckled. “Then we—or rather, I—just tell the US government that the country in question has oil,” he said with a smirk. “They take care of the rest.”
The Changeling opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short of asking yet another question. “Alrighty then,” he said after keeping his mouth open for a few seconds.
“Excellent,” the Baron said. He clasped his hands together and looked around. “Now, where's that teleportation device?”
“Well, sir, that's the thing…” L pulled a nearby lever, which caused a staircase to appear that went on for several floors. “The UN didn't bother telling us that their armory was nearly as large as Miami Beach.”
Jacob peered down and frowned. “Well, guess I'll have to reschedule my manicure…” He turned and faced the two men and the Changeling, who stared in at the enormous armory. “Let's get to work! I have dinner plans and the last thing I want to do is disappoint Angela Merkel, lest I have to listen to mad ravings of a drunk, German woman and her French marionette.”
The two men (and the Changeling) saluted Rothschild and began the task of a lifetime: searching an armory full of things that would be ranked above top secret.
Thankfully, there weren't any emails amongst the weapons.
The train ride to Appleloosa was, for the most part, uneventful. This was largely thanks to the fact that George Soros spent a majority of it asleep on the floor (a fact which made his back hurt something awful).
Eventually though he found it in himself to get up and take a seat next to a random stallion, at which point he listened to a bunch of random gossip, such as how two horses up north were getting married and something about some holiday called ‘Nightmare Night’ was fast approaching.
It wasn't as fun as when he listens to the conversations that go on inside the White House.
But, that was nearly an hour ago, and George now found himself in the middle of nowhere with a water bottle, a suit with blood stains and other, much more questionable stains, and a sandwich he took from a filly as it had cheese, to which he spit it out after taking a bite of it.
“Ew, it's Swiss cheese!” he whined. Evidently, the Hungarian with enough money to destabilize Ukraine disliked something from a country where he can store untold amounts of money. “Screw it, I'll just eat the bread.” Soros threw the cheese behind him and devoured the bread. He took a moment to admire his surroundings as he chewed, only to realize a slightly… bad detail.
He was in a desert. A very, very large desert.
“Uh… where am I?” he wondered aloud as he scanned his surroundings, a baffled look on his wrinkled face. “Is this Iraq?”
A deafening silence filled the air. For as far as the Destroyer of Lives could see, the land held nothing.
So, much like Iraq.
“Ah shit,” he grumbled to himself angrily. Although he didn't want to admit it, George had realized that he was lost in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. With a huff, he set off in a random direction. That didn't have footprints.
“Unbelievable. Those stupid horses and their sunshine princess have somehow gotten me lost,” the billionaire bemoaned. For the next several agonizing minutes, and with an endless amount of whining, Soros trudged through the sand, dirt, and whatever else one would find in the desert (or pre-Gulf War Iraq).
Eventually though, Georgie encountered something that wasn't beneath his foot (literally). Up ahead in the distance, just over the horizon of yet even more sand, was what appeared to be civilization!
A smile of sorts grew on George's face. Not because he was happy to see a place that could provide shelter, but because he was bored shitless and really wanted to cause some sort of chaos.
Somewhere far away, stone had begun to chip.
Regardless of that, George ran towards the peculiar looking town. From afar, it looked as though every building had the architecture of the Kremlin, only the roofs didn't appear smooth. Rather, they looked more patched on. As George got closer though, he realized the place he'd come across was most definitely not Russian.
“Halt, outsider!” A Changeling leaped down from atop a large wall that even Donald Trump would be proud of. It landed with a loud this and aimed a spear at George, who raised his hands, a look of terror on his face (not the least of which was caused by the dozens of others Changelings that were glaring down at him from atop the wall). “This is a Changeling hive and you most certainly don't look like a Changeling to me!”
“Well, aren't you guys just the most xenophobic horses,” George said as he backed away from the bug-horse. “Glad to know that I'm as welcome here as I was back in Ponyville.”
The Changeling drew his spear back and tilted his head. “Wait, you've come from Ponyville?”
George nodded, feeling rather relieved that he was no longer on the receiving end of something that wasn't money. “Yes, I came from there because I was driven out over some nonsense,” he said casually. “They apparently think that I, an elderly man, caused Celest… uh, the sun horse princess’s sister to go insane.”
The Changeling looked back up at the other drones, each of which shrugged. “Well, I'm the captain of the Changeling army here and, as it's my duty to protect the hive from any outsiders, I must request that you come with me to see our queen.”
George's eyes shot open. Before he could react, he found himself enveloped in a green aura and, against his will, he was dragged on the ground. “You bastards are worse than Putin's thugs!”
“Is that a compliment?” the captain asked.
“Depends on who you are,” George asked as his head struck a small rock.
The captain turned around and looked down at his prisoner. “What would you say it is?”
“I'd rather not say anything as dying at the hooves of magical bug equines isn't on my bucket list,” Soros responded indignantly. “Just know you've caused me much grief and you make me want to cry.”
“Well, I better tell my queen about this!” the captain said cheerfully as he resumed walking. He trotted happily through a cave and said, “Maybe I'll even get a promotion!”
“If you don't get a promotion for capturing me, I'd be even more insulted than I already am,” George growled. “This suit was made by Giorgio Armani and now it looks like it's been handled by a pack of wild dogs!”
The Changeling ignored the senile old man and continued towards the throne room. Eventually, he reached it and tossed George to the center of the room. “Your highness!” the captain said proudly. “This mysterious creature found its way to our wall and supposedly has come from Ponyville!”
Chrysalis looked down at George, who looked up at the Changeling queen unhappily. “Is this true?” the queen asked after a few seconds. “Have you come from that love infested land?”
George thought for a few moments before saying, “Yes, I have. I fled when they falsely accused me of corrupting their princess's sister. Me, a poor old man.” He wearily made his way closer to Chrysalis, who ordered the guards to stand down. “However, you mention that place is full of love?”
Chrysalis nodded. “It is what my Changelings consume to survive,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
George Soros approached the queen and smirked. “I have a proposition for you,” he said. “You and your Changelings overthrow the two wretches who have disgraced my name I will ensure that you and your Changelings have enough love for millennia.”
Chrysalis looked down at Soros skeptically. She folded her forelegs and asked, “Exactly how can you do that? I thought you were but a weary old man.”
George chuckled. “Now, now, your highness,” he said with a look of malice in his eyes. “Even weary old men have their secrets.”
“Alright,” Chrysalis said, still unsure if the man in front of her was an escapee from a mental institution or the world's worst spy. “How do you propose we overthrow Celestia and Luna?”
George thought for a moment. “Well… when I was on a train, I heard a few horses discussing the wedding of a princess,” he said. “Perhaps you could send an assassin there?”
Chrysalis's eyes lit up with delight. “That's perfect!” she said. “We shall disguise ourselves as guards and I as the bride!”
“Wait… you'll what?”
Chrysalis approached George and transformed herself into the Destabilizer of Anything and Everything. “We Changelings can become anyone and everyone, silly… thing.”
George took a step back, a frightened look on his face. That or he was taken aback by how good looking he was. Regardless, he eventually calmed down and nodded in approval at the queen's plan. “So, when shall you invade?”
“Very soon,” Chrysalis answered. “First, I must plan and train my drones.” She turned to face George and smiled. “You, meanwhile, will give me every bit of information you have.”
George frowned. “And if I don't?”
“I'll reduce you to ash.”
The billionaire sighed. “Fine,” he said as he took a seat on the ground. “So, first up…”
An insurmountable amount of time had past since Jacob, the Changeling, E and L had started searching through the UN’s stockpile of world ending weapons.
“Anything on floor seventy six?” L shouted up to the other three as he placed a pulse rifle back onto a rack.
“No, but I found a pretzel!” the Changeling said cheerfully. “Why's it attached to an arm though?”
Jacob snatched the item away from the bug-horse and threw it down to… someplace. “That was a Nazi Cyborg Arm you imbecile,” he snarled. “It should be in Antarctica, not in New York City!” He threw the arm behind him and continued to look along the shelves until his eyes landed on a peculiar looking rifle. “Finally!”
E and L looked to see the Baron holding something high into the air. Immediately, both men knew what it was. As quick as lightning, they ran to their boss man, both strangely ecstatic to see the gun which, at first glance, looked like nothing more than a relic of World War II.
“You sure this will work?” Jacob asked as he aimed it at the Changeling. “Last I heard, this has the same chance of working as Donald Trump had at becoming president…”
“Yeah, but that ended up working right?” L asked with a half-smile. “C'mon, just shoot the little guy and we can get back to working on ousting Vladimir Putin.” He turned to his partner and asked, “That's what we're currently working on, right?”
The Changeling shook as he stared down the barrel of the firearm. He gulped and, hesitantly, asked, “W-wait, can we just test it on something before we, uh, try it on me?”
Jacob waited a few seconds before he slowly lowered the gun. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a smart idea,” he said calmly. He turned to E and L and gestured to a nearby steel door. “Get to the testing chambers and set up the target dummies.”
The two men saluted Jacob and hastily made their way towards the door, much to the Baron's delight.
“Hey, I appreciate you not shooting me,” the Changeling said after the two men had exited the room entirely. “I'm glad that you like me enough to-”
Jacob turned around and glared down at the Changeling, which caused him to stop mid-sentence. “I didn't do it because we’re friends, bug-horse,” the Baron growled. “I just didn't want the thing to potentially backfire and end up leaving me in some desolate part of the world with your freakish ass. That's why I'm going to use those two imbeciles as guinea pigs.” He stood up and motioned for the Changeling to follow him.
Hesitantly, the Changeling followed Jacob through the door and down a long, dreary corridor. Eventually, they arrived at a chamber that had two test dummies made of plywood and nothing else.
“Okay, Mister Rothschild, we’ve set up the targets for you,” E said proudly.
“Wonderful.” Jacob raised the rifle and aimed it at one of the dummies. After a few seconds, he quickly shifted to face the two men and fired off two quick shots at them, striking both in the chest and reducing them to ashes.
The Changeling stared at the ashes, his mouth agape. “I… guess it doesn't work?” he asked softly.
“Guess not,” Jacob said as he tossed aside the gun. “Now I regret not using it on you.” With that, he made his way to the doorway. “C'mon,” he yelled to the Changeling. “This globalist sanctuary has less for us than the average blue collar worker.”
The Changeling turned around and ran up to Rothschild's side. “If that's the case, where are we headed?”
“A place I'd rather not go to.” Jacob grimaced at the mere thought of where he and his buggy companion were headed to next. It was a place that even the overlord of globalism couldn't bear to think about.
Not after last year.
“Uh, Jacob? Are you okay?” the Changeling asked with a concerned look. “You've been standing there for five minutes now… are you dead?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, I'm fine,” he said in a strangely soft voice. “C'mon, we've gotta go to Europe… sadly.”
Despite less than a day having past on Earth, it had been weeks on Equus. And in those weeks, Soros had given all he knew about Ponyville and her people to Chrysalis; about how they loathed the Changelings and their way of life. About how they wished to bury them all without firing off a single shot.
Unsurprisingly, Chrysalis had come to resent the ponies more than anything else. Her drones had been training around the clock. Others had been taking the forms of Canterlot guards as she and Soros has planned out an all-out invasion of the royal city on account of a wedding between two horses.
Chrysalis herself had demoted herself to the role of princess, a fact that made her feel dead on the inside.
Then, the big day came. The day in which all of that finally paid off in a nightmarish battle—one which would go down as a dark moment in Changeling history.
Hundreds of Changelings injured at the hooves of a purple unicorn and her five friends! Some even dead.
It was pure chaos. The likes of which one could only dream of after watching a Michael Bay movie.
However, for George Soros, it was the norm. Only, he wasn't on the winning side like normal.
Instead, he was staring at the battered and bruised queen of the Changelings; her normally sternly expression replaced with one of extreme anger.
Nowhere near as angry as the man who sat on her throne though.
Soros hurled the chalice across the room and stood up, looming over Chrysalis. “What do you mean you were defeated by a unicorn!?” he screamed, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
“I mean she and her babysitter kicked out flanks!”
Soros threw his arms into the air, turning away from the queen. “Oh, for the love of everything profitable!” he said. “You're more worthless than the fucking French!”
“The who?” Chrysalis asked, confused.
Soros turned back to face Chrysalis. “It matters not, you worthless bug!” he snapped. “You and your kind have failed me! Despite months of planning and training, you good-for-nothing freaks couldn't do something as simple as overthrow a primitive kingdom!”
With a ghastly green glow, Chrysalis pushed Soros up against a wall, the sole single guard in the room matching up to her side as she approached the decrepit old billionaire. “You dare speak to me like that?” she hissed. “Have you forgotten who's queen around here!?”
“And have you forgotten who has information that could reshape your entire kingdom?” Soros inquired with a smarmy grin. He patted Chrysalis on the cheek and chuckled. “Of course you do. So, let me down and I won't have my friends blow your entire empire up six ways from Sunday.”
Gritting her teeth, Chrysalis released the billionaire. “Fine, you no-good rat,” she snarled. “Though, do tell, what's Plan B now that we've had our flanks handed to us on a silver platter?”
Soros raised an eyebrow at the queen. “Plan B? You really think I have a use for failures like yourselves?”
Chrysalis stared blankly at George for a several seconds in shock as the words that had exited his mouth echoed in her head. Finally, she snapped out of her stupor. “I am not a failure!” She leaped atop the aging old rat and pinned him to the ground, her eyes filled with rage.
For the first time in his entire life, George felt powerless and hopeless. In the blink of an eye, the freakish bug-equine had gone from a mere pawn in his plan to establish a New World Order to something that he could easily mistake for one of Vladimir Putin's pet horses.
Only with magic.
Still, he knew that this false queen could be manipulated. So, with a confident smirk, he got to work. “Are you sure you want to do this, your majesty?”
“What do you mean?” Chrysalis asked angrily.
“Don't you remember what I said moments ago?”
“You're little more than a charlatan, George,” she growled. “Do you honestly think you're the first rat to threaten me with destruction?”
George chuckled. “Let me up and I'll show you that I don't lie, your majesty.”
Reluctantly, Chrysalis for off of Soros helped him up, at which point he gestured her over to the throne. He sat down on it and took out his phone and turned it on. After a few moments, he pulled up a folder that contained an insurmountable number of images.
“These are some of my favorite creations,” George said as he tapped a finger on one of the pictures. “Here's one I think you may like.”
Chrysalis levitated the phone over. On the screen was an image of numerous people rioting in the streets. Vehicles and other objects were on fire. Ahead of the large crowd was what looked like a barricade with shields in front of it.
Soros leaned over and tapped an arrow on the screen, which made an image of several dozen troops training come up.
“Had that bastard Trump not won, I could've sent them to overthrow that bastard Vladimir,” Soros said with an unnerving smile. “Alas, not everything in life is easy.” He tapped on the screen, which made an image of a several battleships out at sea come up.
Then an image of beautiful city with a large structure towering over it, which was immediately followed by the same one that looked like a mere shell of its former self; the large structure surrounded by an ugly wall.
Several more images followed; each showing a city in ruins, and each in worse condition than the last.
By the last one, it resembled something that looked as though it had been all but abandoned, had it not been for the grieving people out in the streets mourning over the lifeless husks that lay on it.
Chrysalis stared in horror as Soros leaned over and took his phone back. “That's small fry though,” he said as he pulled up a video. “Here. My magnum opus.”
Chrysalis took the phone back. Immediately, her eyes widened.
A video had begun to play. It showed a city in ruins. A seemingly endless amount of explosions going off and the sounds of jets flying over, only for another series of explosions to follow suit. Images that one would imagine could only be seen in dreams or in movies about historical wars flashed on the screen as the cries of innocents emitted from the phone.
It was chaos in its purest form.
“What are you trying to get at?” Chrysalis asked quietly as a tear rolled down her face.
Soros took his phone back and turned Chrysalis's head so she faced the now smiling billionaire. “Do you still take me for a charlatan, your majesty?”
Chrysalis grit her teeth as her horn began to glow a vibrant green. “No, but I do take you for a monster.”
Soros let out a laugh and patted Chrysalis on the head. “You're too kind.”
Without a word, the queen of the Changelings fired off a beam of energy, which enveloped Soros and, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
“Where'd he go, your majesty?” asked the sole single guard who'd been watching the entire time in awe.
Chrysalis let out a heavy sigh and turned to face the guard. “Somewhere up north,” she said, exhausted. “Now, go get me some wine and bread.”
The guard saluted his queen and ran out of the throne room.
Chrysalis, meanwhile, fell onto her throne and looked up at the ceiling, the images from before still clear as day in her mind. “How can someone be so… cruel?”
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hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!
Hi again downvotes.
To the Frozen North ! Does Al Gore make a cameo with a polar bear sex scene?
8208711 ... And now George is gonna reference it.
Thanks, Hillbe.
8208702 Downvotes say, "Hi, Skylarking!"
8208695 :D!
8208714
cool 
cold 
freezing
8208729 Have a mustache.
Seriously though, it never crossed my mind to make an Al Gore/climate change joke there (if for no other reason than to take a jab at Al.
)
I beg of you to make another story where Milo works for the Foal Free Press (the good Milo, to clarify).
8208777 Yiannopolus, right?
I... could try that sometime down the line if enough people like this one.
Mind you, there are other things I'm gonna do after this is finish.
Still, that's an idea I'll keep in mind. Thanks.
8208795
No, Stewart, you silly-goose bitch./s
8208801 I'm gonna admit, I legit have no fucking idea who the "bad" Milo is. My girlfriend mentioned another one said that he pissed her off.
So, yeah, that said, I'll keep that idea in mind.
If I do go through with it, I think it won't be until the end of the year/beginning of next year.
Der be great things on me mind. THEY'RE TREMENDOUS.
8208821 Mylo = Brightbart - pro free speech, Berkley = Communist satellite - freestuff, put the two together you get riots from the left gasps from the right and boned in the middle.
I would highly approve.
8208714 Me want a story on Geert Wilders, while on a bicycle.
8208935
I... might put that in as a gag in this story at a later point. I know extremely little about Geert sadly.
Mind explaining the bicycle thing?
8208960 Here is one particular interview, how... Interesting.
"The bicycle, the symbol of Dutch healthfulness is being polluted by Muslims. We must ban the Koran, close the mosques and destroy Muslim bicycles."
"Sir, how do we know it’s a Muslim bicycle?"
"That is a stupid question."
"Yes, maybe, but how do we know?"
"If it’s a female bicycle it wears a hijab."
"But what if it’s a male?"
"Another stupid question. It’s circum. circum … circumscribed, I mean circumcised you fool."
"We can take off the hijab and convert the female bicycle, but what do we do with the male bicycle."
"Do I have to tell you everything. Castrate it you fools. Castrate. It’s our new battle cry: Castrate! Castrate! Castrate Muslim bicycles. Castrate!"
"Is that too radical? What will all the bleeding heart liberals say?"
"Tell them we already do it to dogs."
"Question, sir. How do we castrate a bicycle?"
"Ach! God in de lucht! Cut off the front end."
"But then we can’t ride them."
"Yes, that is the sacrifice we must make. We have to. We must. We must all make sacrifices to get rid of the Muslim menace."
8208967
Holy shit, I thought you made that up. That's AWESOME! Really funny.
8209060 I laughed.
Well played...
One day, I am going to crack from editing your stuff. Then who will edit for you?
8208998 Eeyup!
What? The Illuminati, the UN, but no Lucis Trust? How could you!
Just want to let the author know that I am favoriting this before even reading it, because I just know it's gonna be lit.
Soros is a piece of shit. I hope the ponies see him for the evil he is. Look at the guy! He's a real evil emperor!
8208967
Gas the bikes race car now!
8209847 Ja!
8209580 I like you comment
8210374 Thank you. He is evil.
8210411 trump will take him down
8210447
8210411
I hope he freezes his assets too. I don't want his sons to take up where he leaves off. Wretched ass monster...
8210468 lets pray for people in London England right now and Manchester my thoughts and prays
8210491 True that.
8210468 Glad to know the feeling is mutual here.
Will Trump make an appearance?
8211722 Yes
8212806
Weird, I'm not getting notifications?
But anyway, will he save the day like a classic American icon? Superman
8212857
It'll be a cameo rather than a large role.
You'll see.
>canceled
DAMN YOU SOROS!
8700827 Haha. This was going to act as a surprise prequel to my Donald Trump story (it was marked as a sequel to it), but it didn't work out like I'd wanted it to, and with so many things on my table, I couldn't find the time for it.
That said, I am working on an official sequel to the Trump story. So, that's exciting.