Maybe It Would Have Worked In Prance
As a mare of what she personally believed to be rare intelligence, Victoria Park (or rather, the blackened gold earth pony who was currently calling herself that) felt she understood something about ponies. How they thought or, better yet, how they didn't think. She could not only recognize those moments when herd instinct began to take over, but had thought of ways to take advantage. And there were better things than that deepest of drives. There was competitiveness. Unwarranted self-confidence. It also helped that as far as Victoria was concerned, the main intellectual difference between the average pony and a blade of grass was that the grass expressed somewhat fewer opinions.
She often described herself as a professional investor, which she generally interpreted as a proven means of getting ponies to give her their money. Unfortunately, there was a flaw built into her declared occupation: the rather unreasonable expectation that every so often, she would have to give some back. It was something every investor had to deal with: the money wasn't technically hers. (Emotionally, yes. Technically, no. 'Legally' was a dance she was used to performing.) Bits could be pulled back. Ponies would go through emergencies which, in their opinion, required them to sell off stocks, and Victoria would then have to find some way of explaining why the company's need was greater than theirs: something which was doubly true when she was the entire company. But it was a sad truth: if you were going to sell shares, then you had to accept that shares could be sold back, and it wasn't always possible to reach border or fur dye in time.
Victoria had been thinking about that. Mostly because she truly loved money, but in small part because she was sick of fur dye. That there had to be a way of parting ponies from bits which they would never expect back. And then she'd had an idea, one which had placed her in Canterlot under a new name in a rented third-floor office, while sporting her own colors for the first time since puberty because nopony was looking for those. She'd crashed a few parties and dropped the right words into twitching ears, then listened to their echoes as they bounced inside hollow skulls. In a way, she'd advertised, mostly through letting the distortions which built up in the flow of rumor work for her. And now, as pony after pony came up to her dimly-lit desk (because renting such a huge space for the sake of appearances hadn't left much for lighting devices), she was beginning to reap the rewards.
"Tontine," the latest unicorn egotistically declared from his side of the desk. (Victoria knew three things about him: his name was Jet Set, he had money, and he was wondrously stupid.) "I've heard all about it, of course. I consider myself an expert. But -- just for the sake of comparison -- let me hear how you describe it."
He was already looking at the bottle of sherry she'd placed on her side. (She'd gone through a lot of sherry.)
She smiled.
"It's a simple concept, really," she said. "You buy shares in a common pot." There was an actual pot, at the back of the office. It was large. It was black. It was already half-full. "This money is non-refundable." She'd found it best to get that part out of the way immediately.
"Non-refundable," he carefully repeated. There was an exceptional lack of speed to the words, as if he was trying to work them out between syllables.
"That means you don't get it back," Victoria clarified. "Under any circumstances."
Jet Set rather visibly thought about that for a while. It was possible to see the gears moving behind his eyes, and thus it was equally possible to see when they skipped.
"Then what do I get?" he finally tried. "Although this is really so I can hear how you perceive --"
"-- the money is sensibly invested," Victoria politely interrupted. "You receive an initial annual dividend based on how many shares you purchased."
The stallion squinted, focused through the little lenses which were precariously balanced on his snout. Victoria could tell it was meant to make him look intelligent, if 'intelligent' could be swapped in for 'constipated.' "And how is that different from putting the money into a bank? I can take my money out of a bank."
Which was why she'd abandoned banking, especially after having taken the money out first. "There are a limited number of shares," Victoria clarified, and that was true: the limit was whatever she was going to sell before the initial deadline. "But the final pot remains constant. So does the interest it earns. However -- other ponies only collect their dividends for as long as they're alive."
He blinked.
"Dead ponies," Jet Set decided, "seldom have much need for money. So what happens to their dividends?" With a snort, "You keep them, I suppose?"
"No," Victoria smiled. "You do."
Two more blinks. She wondered how much of his mind had been dedicated to powering the movements.
"Explain," he finally said.
"The interest earned by a tontine," she told him, subtly nudging the bottle towards him, "is divided between all living investors. As investors pass into the shadowlands, the number of ponies collecting drops. But their interest still has to be distributed. So if a thousand ponies join and enough time passes for a hundred to die... you gain some part of what they would have earned." She allowed herself to rather visibly inspect his body. "And you, sir..." are using minor illusion spells because exercise would require effort "...if I may say so, are such a healthy specimen! I can see you enjoy sports! And win at most of them."
"Nearly all," Jet Set declared, puffing out what little chest there was. "In fact, if not for a certain interruption at croquet --"
"-- and as a healthy stallion, when so many others around you aren't taking care of themselves..."
This time, she saw the dim light go on behind his eyes. She wondered if it was the first one.
"I would like you to think of this, sir," she softly said, "as a wager. To see your state of glowing health --" although the actual glow was sparking a little and so mostly suggested the illusions were faulty "-- is to know you have decades ahead of you. In the race of years, I would personally bet on you to go a very long way. Possibly ahead of the entire herd. And given the price of a share, the eventual size of the pot... well, if you glance a little to your left --" her foreleg nudged the bottle in that direction "-- you will see a charted projection for what the last pony would earn annually. Just in interest."
He looked.
He kept looking.
Eventually, he began to lightly drool.
Victoria used the opportunity to offer sherry. After all, fluids had to be replaced, and it helped if that replacement encouraged investor brain cells to die.
There were, of course, a few basic rules.
Children weren't allowed to purchase shares: a pony had to be a legal adult in order to join the tontine. Shares also couldn't be given away to friends (although you could purchase for one as a gift, or several, because buying your friends into a tontine showed how much you loved them) or passed on in wills. Once the original owner died, that was it.
The investment manager had permanent custody of the pot and as Victoria was the investment manager, she considered this to be a very good rule indeed. Several ponies had asked what would happen to the pot after the last shareholder died, and Victoria had told them it would be donated to charity. She had no issues with donating the pot to charity, especially since the money would have been removed.
And of course, annuity dividends would be paid on schedule. That was the hard part. Earning the interest was easy, as Victoria was actually a rather talented investor. It was just... giving ponies money. It hurt her soul. It made her mark ache, and having an icon (forelegs scooping piles of money inwards) experience pain was something of a feat. But it had to be done, because the tontine needed to be successful. As Victoria's schemes went, this one was rather long-term. Because if she reliably paid out the interest on the first tontine, ponies would be willing to invest in a second. Then a third...
Victoria understood something about how ponies thought, and also how they didn't think. And she'd made her charts show honest math (which had also hurt). Take the duration of a pony lifespan, then see every investor as a runner in the ultimate race -- because that was how they saw it.
An accident here. An illness there. One by one, ponies would drop out, falling into their graves. The interest would be split up among a steadily-dwindling number. But the investors never believed they would be the first to go. They would feel they had entered a competition, and that unwarranted self-confidence would insist that they, and only they, would be the last across the line. And she'd shown them the numbers. The last dozen runners (although by that age, it would be more of a stagger) would never need to worry about money again. The final pony limping (or being pushed) would be wealthy on a level which barely existed in dreams.
She'd seen their eyes. Pony after pony deciding that the mere act of entering the race meant they had already won it. And she had answered their questions, queries which meant that in their hearts, they'd already committed. The level of gold in the pot was rising by the hour.
Admittedly, some of the questions were... worrisome.
They tended to share a theme.
"You know," the stallion proposed, "this would be an interesting sort of wager for other things."
"Really?" She was always willing to listen to new ideas, especially when they had the potential to give her money.
"For example," the stallion proudly went on, "I have a bottle of wine. Two hundred years old. I keep meaning to open it on a special occasion, but nothing's ever been good enough. So what if I made this form of wager with my friends? We all put some money in a new pot. And the last one not only enjoys our dividends, but gets to open the bottle and toast to the memory of the others."
"That's interesting," Victoria said, and meant it: not only would she have an extra pot, but with the clearly-valuable wine in play --
"Of course," the stallion decided, "there would need to be a Clover Clause."
"Clover?"
"Yes." An annoyed snort. "Clover doesn't deserve that good a bottle. He's completely incapable of appreciating it."
Which was followed by a very long pause.
"There would need to be," the stallion finally concluded, "a second bottle." And with the thinnest smile Victoria had ever seen, "In a way, it's a pity I'm going to miss his reaction..."
"So if it's down to just myself and Duchess..."
Victoria nodded to the With Two Remaining line on the chart.
The mare looked thoughtful.
"Duchess already bought in, didn't she?"
"Six shares," Victoria truthfully said.
A puce foreleg thoughtfully rubbed the underside of the elevated chin.
"I," the mare considered, "never really liked Duchess..."
"So when you die," the wife said, "I'll get your dividend. And you know I'll be taken care of."
"What if I don't go first?" the husband naturally asked.
"Don't be silly!" the wife laughed. "I'm a little younger than you, and everypony knows mares live longer! I'll be fine!"
"But what if --"
"It'll be you, dear. I just know it. It's a mare's intuition."
Reluctantly, "I suppose, statistically..."
"In fact," the wife whispered, her tones only truly audible to Victoria, "if you fail to clean the restroom trench one more time, I can just about guarantee --"
"-- what was that?"
"Oh, nothing," the wife brightly said. "So. Ten shares, then?"
She'd stayed open late: the sheer flow of traffic had kept her active well after Sun had been lowered. But as far as Victoria was concerned, it was just about time to close the office or, at the very least, to buy a larger pot. The current one was threatening to overflow.
Victoria looked at the gold glinting in the dim light, and smiled.
The initial concept had required some refinement. Finding ways to make it truly work and when she'd decided she'd had it right, she'd quite naturally gone to where the money was. That money had just come to her.
She would pay out the dividends reliably, because that was what would encourage ponies to join the next tontine. She would run it under the rules as she'd written them, because those rules were hers: something so new had no regulations to follow, nothing in the way of government oversight. The only pony watching Victoria was Victoria, and she trusted herself to do the right thing for herself.
She would issue interest vouchers, and ponies would be happy. She would watch a few naturally drop out of the race. And then... well, the other thing about a tontine -- the personal thing -- was that you had a huge pot of money sitting around, and the investment manager was the only pony who had access to it. In time, there would be multiple pots.
Pots could be moved.
She had, by her estimates, a minimum of five years before she would even need to think about fur dye. But it wasn't so long to wait. Nopony truly watching her, no employers or overseers or authorities or police. Fraud charges were impossible with something so new, not for the mere concept. Nopony could do anything until the day after she vanished, and then it would be too late to do anything at all...
There was a solid knock at the door, one which possessed a degree of echo.
Well, it was never too late to make a little more money. "I'm still open!" Victoria merrily called out. "And I have a few shares left! Come in!"
The door opened. The mare on the other side took a single measured step forward, and Victoria's heart found itself locked in ice.
"An interesting concept," that rather large mare declared. "I have been reviewing the tales for some time. And as somepony with an interest in mathematics, I believe myself to have fully recognized all the implications of your unique idea. They were well worth considering. And, in my opinion, also worth... watching. Which, of course, would currently require participation."
She couldn't move. The window was right there, she was sure she could survive the jump, and she couldn't move...
"The last pony surviving collects all of the dividends?" the mare asked, and stars softly twinkled in the semi-tangible mane as dark energy deposited a bag of bits next to the final bottle of sherry. "Do tell me more."
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Author's Public Note: Yes, this is real. Legality varies by region, and a lot of areas have outlawed them. If you're thinking about starting one, investigate your local statutes carefully. And of course, only go into tontines with friends.
You'd better hope they stay your friends.
Haha holy shit, that ending. I seriously expected this one to end with our hapless protagonist hanging tail-side out of the windowsill.
I'm liking how these greedy types aren't always so stupid as to not light themselves on fire in your oneshots lately, as opposed to some earlier works. She almost pulled it off. Too bad there's that small issue of the immortal beings running the country and all. If it weren't for those darn alicorns, she would have definitely made an obscene amount of money. I liked that she used and showed to the shareholders (the real important part) real math. Helps sell the idea.
Well, somepony is planning for the future. And somehow I think having this particular investor means the probability of sincere audits just went up to 100%.
Of course, Celestias shares bits are at the bottom of the pot.
Ah, that’s more like it. She may be crooked, but she’s clever.
You obviously love Luna, and I love how you write her. That combination of ancient gravitas, wide eyed wonder at the modern world, and her unique sensitivity.
wow, what a brilliant ending!
Had she only thought it through, she would be safe by the terms of the contract.
You have to have a recognized mortality rate on the actuarial tables. Since Alicorns (and Draquonis and some other beings) don't have a recognized mortality rate, on any of the major actuarial tables that are considered the standard for use in Equestria, Prance, and the Griffin Kingdoms, to accept her into the tontine would constitute fraud on the basis that all the participants are expecting morality to happen-just to other ponies first.
But, these sorts of people don't think things through, do they?
Oh no. "Princess Spike" actually happened in this universe? Or at least a similar event. Poor little guy.
In any case, I saw where this was going from the chapter title, but I still greatly enjoyed the trip. Though the investor pony paints a stark image; how can there be hope for redemption when doing the right thing pains you on a metaphysical level? That may be one of the darkest things you've come up with, especially in the context of pony.
Still, thank you for the story.
That was clever. For the fraudulent investor and from Luna to the story itself.
And yeah, a tontine sounds like the linchpin of a murder novel...
The fine print is glorious. I think our poor mare is going to wish she had thought to exclude alicorns or anyone who becam one in the future from collecting. I do think the Sisters both have seen this scam before and knew how to counter it.
9475611
I like to think that in Estee's universe, that while there are evil ponies, there aren't evil cutie marks. Her mark reflects the fact that she was a greedy, self-centered female Diamond Dog before it came in. She feels that it hurts in her Cutie Mark when she gives other ponies money, but it's essentially just the same thing any real miser would experience under the circumstances. Or to put it another way, any Pony with a hockey mask and chainsaw cutie mark was a monster well before it appeared.
9475585
...but then you have dragons. Which may well be mortal (and therefore can be put in actuary tables) but do live a lot longer than ponies. And they love themselves some treasure.
That was not the ending I was expecting, actually, but it was definitely the more enjoyable one. Long live the Princesses.
9475521
That wikipedia page points out that tontines are starting to make a comeback in the USA as people look for alternate ways to fund their retirement.
This economy, amirite?
I feel like "there's just this one minor flaw" could be applied to the descriptions of most of your stories, with varying degrees of irony.
Long live the Sisters.
9475676
If there's a magic thing that actively hurts her when she does something nice, that's pretty darn creepy. Her whole life shouldn't be determined by the person she was when she was a kid; imagine of Scrooge had a mark like that, and his generosity caused him pain?
Though it could just be a throwaway line, I guess...
9475738
Well, we already had an example of a pony who went against their mark in Triptych: Doctor Gentle. And while he was messed up in a LOT of ways, his mark didn't actually hurt him for it.
Of course a tontine *can* be developed ethically. Set it up like any annuity; i this case, it's a perpetuity instead which is a real thing. That's really all it is. A non-refundable, non-transferable perpetuity purchased with a common pool of money the returns divided up amongst all the survivors.
Then you the investor, claim everything above and beyond the basic investment and guaranteed income.
BOOm. Perfectly on the up and up, perfectly ethical. Up until the market crashes again...
9475815
Of course, FRIGGING ANONYMITY WOUD BE A GOOD IDEA!!!
9475733
That IS the most probable outcome.
I love these stories built on solid economics. XD Congrats on breaking it down in a way I can understand that is also entertainjng. And I just KNEW one of the princesses would get involved, HA! Figured it would be Celestia, but Luna is not a dosappointment!
Ah Luna, never change.
9475818
though.
I think our dear last investor is going to get very richer very quick... As is our main character, as having the last investor is going to make her have to actually put her talent to work.
It'll still hurt like
9475815 Market wobbles up and down are a fact of life, but in the long-term, they go up. A small amount put into a tax-deferred no-load index mutual fund every year and left alone until retirement will get you more return on your investment than practically any other move, other than marrying a sick old rich person. Where people get into trouble is shorting the amount going in during their early earning years, 'borrowing' out of that tempting pile of money for stupid crap, cashing it in, trying to 'play the market' with it, or getting divorced. (Because one of my friends found out the hard way that every penny he had put away and his house went poof.)
9475896
Of course. Index funds are just depressingly stable and unfun, without that deliriouspunch people get hooked on.
9475923 (and without the broker taking a massive chomp out of your principal every time you get fidgety)
What I know about tontines comes from reading the novel The Tontine by Thomas Costain.
They usually had age groups. You wouldn't expect a 50 year old to think that they could outlive a 20 year old, for example
It was usually several years (even decades) before the younger groups started paying off
9475611
That was polo. Jet Set might be referring to the game at the garden party in "Sweet and Elite".
The funny thing is, she'll still make money off of this, even if she has to play it fair and square. Well, depending on how well she invests.
I like to point out that public retirement programs like Social Security in the U.S. have a tontine-like element. Social Security pays more than would a universal retirement program with individual accounts because of the taxes paid by anyone who works, but doesn't live to retirement--they get nothing from [the retirement benefit portion of] Social Security.
Well, technically that statement contains no lies. Just relies on ponies assuming things.
Rather large mare that puts fear into ponies ok the shady side of things?
Princess Celestia.The Royal Sisters. Haha, I certainly didn't forget about Princess Luna nope not at all.Forgive me.
Checkmate.
9476170
Nah, its worse because the polititions never sabed any money. Every dime going in just flows right out again for roads and welfare and such.
The term your looking for is ponzi scheme.
9475754
You may want to reread the Symposium chapter of Triptych a little more closely.
Nothing more perfectly illustrates the danger of engaging in a long-con in a world where immortals exist.
Hehehe I love these mini fics.
9475957
Ah, confused my affluent mallet sports. Thanks.
9475626
There have been several, with the most notable being Agatha Christie's "4.50 from Paddington". With the caveat that while referred to as a tontine throughout the story, the scheme there was not technically one.
And this is where you put in a "No Immortals Allowed" clause.
Or, better yet, require all participants to have a life expectancy roughly equal to or less than the average pony, thereby disqualifying alicorns, draconequui, dragons, and whatever else is out there that lives for a ridiculously long time.
9476424
Almost sad that Luna nipped that one in the bud, because we could had Detective Luna cracking the case of the mysterious murder surrounding the tontine.
I was wondering at what point this plan would go badly.
The moment I looked the scheme up, I realized the Equestrian problem.
Silly ponies and their cheats.
9476265
The term is pay-as-you-go, which one can argue is an appropriate funding method for a government that is presumed never to go out of business. But like a Ponzi scheme, this kind of funding leads to intergenerational inequity. I expect to get less than previous generations.
9476275
My point was that it's doubtful that the Mark was literally making her ache just for giving money away.
9476623 I mean, considering that actions that directly defy or so much as subvert a mark tend to have negative mental/emotional effects on the pony, it probably does literally make her mark ache.
I'd like to learn who/what created marks in the first place, because they're pretty screwed up if you think about it.
9476612
I expect to see none.
9475676
but what about someone trying to stop being like that, so A serial killer with a serial killer mark can't go through rehabilitation(because as a child they were a monster) but if they had a mark for growing flowers(and where a monster as a child) they could?
Excellent, as always. You always manage that extra little twist at the end.
The punchline was hilarious, but I was a bit curious; was the "scheme" aspect of it solely that she could easily defraud everyone before they noticed?