Chaos, CHAOOOOS!
Princess Twilight Sparkle was in a bit of a bind. On the one hoof, from her seat behind a magical privacy barrier in the upper balcony, she could look out on her latest achievement. The new Equestrian Parliament House of Commons was meeting for the first time since her assumption to the throne of the nation. It would be the first time this body met at all since she’d ordered a total reorganization of the government as her first Official Act.
The system was clean, efficient, and would more accurately represent the ponies in her nation than the legislative bodies under her predecessors. She loved Celestia like a second mother, but e-gads, was she not a very good administrator. At least, in the bureaucratic sense. Her Solar Council was basically all unicorns, and most were distant relatives. That was no way to run a government!
Nevermind that Twilight’s five best friends and little brother were also part of her government, that was different! Completely.
“All rise for the Speaker of the House!” a voice called out.
All around the rectangular room were benches for the newly elected ministers, and a few balconies for observers like the Princess. Twilight was glad to see earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns in equal numbers spread out amongst the crowd. There were even a few batponies, at least one from each of their own tribes.
Twilight wondered, hopefully, if she would one day look out and see changelings, yaks, or even dragons out there, representing their - and by extension Twilight’s - people.
Then, the other hoof walked in. Or, sauntered, as the Lord of Chaos was wont to do. Discord was even wearing a black robe and ridiculous white wig for the occasion.
The Princess didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The Friendship Party had won big in the election, but it hadn’t won a majority of seats. So, in a mad scramble to form a coalition government, the FP had to bring in its typical allies, the Lunar and Solar Parties, but even their support wasn’t enough. They needed to go to one of the other groups who’d gained seats that year.
Nopony had wanted to approach Blueblood and his Grand Galloping Party, and for good reasons. They were all unicorns, all elected in Canterlot, and Blueblood, while not permitted to run himself as he was a Lord, was supporting it. But it also had seats they needed, so the GGP was in.
Next was the Apple Party. While personable and friendly, every single one of them voted as a block, and they wouldn’t budge from their platforms on privatization, government subsidies, and tax reform (tax removal, if Twilight had an opinion on the subject). Still, some promises were hinted at, usually with hooves crossed, and the Friendship Coalition was one seat away from attaining enough of a majority to rule.
And all Discord’s party, the Chaos Party, wanted in return for his support and his one seat, was a small, mostly ceremonial concession.
“Ah, cheer up, Twilight!” Spike patted her back, and spoke through a mouthful of gems and popcorn, “It could be worse. He could have asked to be Prime Minister, or something!”
Several of the aides and guards sitting with the Princess in her private observation room blanched at the thought, but said nothing. Twilight merely groaned, covering her eyes with her hooves.
She couldn’t watch, but she had no choice. Train wrecks were magnetic, it seemed.
Down at the Speaker’s chair, Discord pulled out his hammer… or in this case, Angel Bunny, and slapped it a few times against the desk in front of him. Twilight didn’t remember anything in the rules about hammers.
“Order!” he called, “ORRRDAAAHHH!”
The draconequus paused, to mop up the flopsweat with his wig.
“Phew! That word can really take it out of you! Alrighty then, shall we get started?”
The ponies of Parliament gave one another concerned glances, but decided to roll with it. If the Princess hadn’t stepped in to fix the problem, maybe there wasn’t a problem.
Prime Minister Fancy Pants, the well-liked compromise candidate, stood up, and began making his opening remarks to the House of Commons. It was a nice speech, praising the Equestrian character, lauding the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony for creating the modern, peaceful world all ponies and creatures could enjoy, and advocating for higher immigration, lower taxes, and subsidies for party planning jobs.
That last one got Twilight’s attention, but between the roaring applause, and the Speaker’s own strangled calls for order, or ‘Ordah’, there was far too much noise in the chamber to think.
“As I understand it, we have only one proposition for the day?” Discord lounged in his chair, practically coiling around its plush purple cushion.
“Ahkshually,” a green pegasus stallion with a curly red mane stood up from his seat, and said, in a thick, Edinburro accent, “Ah believe thar was thrrree…”
“Indeed there was!” the bushy-browed Lord of Chaos said as he slithered out of the stallion’s mane, “But, I do believe the Speaker decides which bills come up for consideration! So there’s only one today!”
Twilight leaned back, her hackles raising, and a scowl forming on her royal brow.
“He… he can’t do that! He’s changing the rules! He’s changing MY rules…!”
“Twi?” Spike asked, tiredly. When he seemed to get his seething sister’s attention, he merely popped another gem to the back of his throat, and said, “You won’t win.”
“What do you mean I won’t…!?”
“Come on, you of all ponies know how this would play out!” the little dragon waved one claw about, “Besides the fact that you’d be delegitimizing the whole election thing - which I know you don’t want to do - he’d probably just… I don’t know! Drop you in a pudding dimension! Or make every door out of the balcony lead somewhere else.”
“He’s right, you know...”
Princess Twilight was both too angry, and too familiar with the draconequus’ antics to jump as a second one of him popped into existence in the empty seat beside her. Empty, at least, with poor Quick Quill, her scribe-in-training, being popped out of existence at the same time.
They would find her three days later, lost in the Everfree, and covered in pudding.
“Discord…” the Princess snarled.
“I mean, doors that lead to the wrong place is a bit pedantic,” he sighed and rested his head in his claws, watching his other self continue to listen to ministers grumble, “But pudding dimensions? I tell you, young Spike here is as capable in coming up with new Chaos as he is at running a rousing game of O and O…”
Twilight was already pressing her nose up against Discord’s own, her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Discord, this is my baby,” her teeth scraped against one another as she spoke, slow, and rumbling, “It’s been my dream to create a better, more inclusive Equestria for a while now, and I worked too hard to give Equestrians a real voice in their own government for you to screw it up!”
The Spirit of Chaos frowned, a disappointed look settling onto his ancient features.
“Do you really think I’d muck something like this up for you?”
“Grogar.”
“Alright, fine!” he threw his claws up in the air, “We all make mistakes! But this time, I’m actually trying to help!”
“How could this nonsense possibly help!?” she slapped her seat’s arm with a bone crushing hoof-stamp, for emphasis, “You’re setting precedent! Precedent to screw up all my well-thought out rules!”
Here, a smirk came to Discord’s lips.
“Think of this, then… as a stress test. How can your system last if you don’t test it? Aren’t tests important to learning?”
Discord wondered, idly, if he was finally going to see Twilight combust. He’d heard the story, naturally, from Fluttershy over tea, and he was hoping today would finally be the day.
Still fixing him with a hard, murderous glare, Twilight said nothing, at first. Even Spike slowed down his snacking to glance between her and Discord, evidently gauging whether or not he needed to run yet, and how many of the nearby guards and servants he could save before the heat and pressure wave got them.
“If nothing else,” Discord offered, “You can always veto anything that’s too much fun, of course…”
Twilight’s voice came out, slow, and as cold as ice.
“I’ll allow it.”
Discord pretended not to notice the one unicorn guard in the back using a spell to check the Princess for mind control. Even he was a little surprised.
She turned towards the parliamentary proceedings, which seemed to be getting back underway.
“But… take the name of tests in vain again, and I’ll make you beg to be turned to stone. Let’s...” she breathed, slowly, through her nose, “Let’s see where this goes…”
Taking that most dire of threats seriously, Discord vanished from the private box, and undivided his attention from the affairs of state taking place below.
“Oh, very well!” he sighed, “I’ll allow all three bills to come forward, seeing as how this is the first session, and all.”
A notecard, and a pair of reading spectacles, drifted up to Discord’s face under their own power. He squinted to read what was there, before rolling his eyes, and tossing both away.
He looked back towards the green stallion.
“It would appear the first bill up for consideration is yours, Mr… hm,” he scratched at his beard with his paw, “I think I’ll call you Jerry. You look like a Jerry.”
“Mah name ain’t Jerry!” the stallion’s green coat began to turn red across his face as he snorted, “Ah’m Gale O’Way! From…”
“Yes, yes!” Discord waved down the enraged pony, “We all know where you’re from, judging by the accent. Fine then, New Rule:
“No names!” the Lord of Chaos suppressed his own chuckle, “While seated, everypony or creature will be referred to obliquely, by their constituency, or by whichever nickname the current Speaker finds most amusing at the time!”
Most of the ministers grumbled, a little, at this added bit of procedure. But, since none of them wanted to receive Discord’s trolling attention, and therefore an ‘amusing’ nickname that might stick, they kept their grumbling to an appropriate minimum.
A few of the batpony ministers, who were known for their exceptional hearing, could have sworn they heard a sigh come from the Royal Booth, up in the balcony, but since the magical glass partitioning it rendered anycreature within invisible, they couldn’t be sure if that was the Princess up there.
“The Speaker recognizes the Right Honorable Gentlecolt from Glasscow!”
Gale coughed, to clear his throat, and stood to speak. His voice, as heavily accented as it was, was as clear as a summer’s day, and almost musical in its tones. Even Discord had to admit, if politics didn’t work out, Gale O’Way would never go hungry as a singer.
“Ponies, Ladies an’ Gentlecolts,” he began, “As this is a momentous occasion, tha beginnin of a new democratic Equestria… Ah feel it is only nahtural that we give thanks an praise to one pony above all others…”
Two hours later, Twilight Sparkle was beating her head against the tempered, magical glass of her privacy booth. Down below, her subjects were still debating which honorific to award her, for her years of gallant heroism in the nation’s name.
They hadn’t voted yet, but “The Great” was beating out “All Wise Mother of the Nation” on the debate floor.
“It wasn’t…”
THWACK
“... supposed to be this way…”
THWACK
Spike, having long since moved on from gems and popcorn to a carrot-dog lined with the colorful stones, chuckled, but also tried to pat the Princess on her back again.
“I guess you owe me ten bits, right?”
“Not now, Spike…”
THWACK
“... If I manage to do enough damage…”
THWACK
“... perhaps I’ll learn…”
Another hour passed before Discord called for the vote.
“Alright!” he cracked his neck, and let out a yawn, “As exciting as watching paint dry is, I think that’s enough of that…”
At that, he pulled two strange items from his wig. One, to the instant discomfort of the ministers, appeared to be an equine eyeball. The other produced only confusion, as nopony could tell what the pink triangular thing with two holes in it could possibly be.
Except for Princess Twilight, who on more than a few occasions, found that particular appendage sticking out her own face. At least, in one particular dimension.
“There is a lot more space in this chamber than is strictly necessary,” Discord intoned, almost seriously, “Which is why, for voting, we shall pile up into three sections to vote!”
The draconequus tossed the eye over the heads of the ministers to his right, eliciting a shocked gasp from the chamber.
“All in favor of The Great and Purple… well, the Eyes to the right…” he said, similarly throwing the pink… thing off to the opposite observation area, “And the Nose to the left!”
As the MPs stared at one another, the flying body parts, and the mad creature that started throwing them around, one particular mare stood up from her seat, and coughed, politely.
“The Speaker recognizes the Left Odorous Gentlemare from Canterlot,” Discord nodded, “Oh… and I suppose you want to say something as well?”
Minuette nervously tapped her forehooves in place for a moment. She glanced around at her fellow ministers, before she took one deep breath, and faced the Speaker.
“Where do the Abstains go?”
“THAT’S YOUR QUESTION!?”
Out of politeness for the dignity of the Crown, the assembled ministers of said Crown choose to ignore their sovereign’s cries, up amidst the balconies. The one with magical, tempered glass panes.
Glass panes which bore a few dents by this point in the shape of the Crown’s horn...
Discord idly scratched at his beard… before a small lightbulb flickered into existence overhead. He promptly removed his own fang with a pop, and tossed it down the length of the room, where it landed by the main doors.
Promptly, the tooth flashed with Chaos magic, leaving behind… a fence post.
After growing a new tooth, Discord called out to the ministers again.
“Sit on it. Now… Clear the floor!”
In between the Eye and the Nose becoming lost, then found again, and the various ministers having to figure out if Discord had meant his right, or theirs, and how anypony was supposed to sit on the fence when it was so small, and Opinion Poll had such a fat flank… the vote was tallied, and delivered to Discord, who made the pronouncement.
“Princess Twilight, the Great and Purple, has two-hundred and thirty-eight votes in favor,” he checked the notecard handed to him, “And two-hundred and twenty-eight votes against, with thirty-five fence-sitters. The Eyes have it!”
The second issue up for debate was a bit of an odd one. The minister from Seasaddle, Rainy Days - or, Gloom Doom Bing Bam Boom, according to the Speaker once he got a look at her grey color palette - stood up, and delivered a short, punchy little speech on the importance of fiscal responsibility. Twilight was actually following along, smiling. After what her baby had turned into thus far, some good governance was needed.
And then, without a change in her flat inflection, Rainy Days apparently decided to throw a political bomb into the chamber.
“And that is why I am proposing that we ban ponies from grazing on public grass!”
Instantly, the members of the Apple Party began shouting bloody murder, arguing that public grass was necessary for poor, and underprivileged ponies, who otherwise would starve. This, naturally, incited the GGP, who began screaming about ‘lazy bums getting fat off the public dole’.
That little gem caused a general wave of scoffs and jeers from everypony. Especially anypony who knew Prince Blueblood, or his spending habits.
The debate went on from there, meandering a bit over whether or not public grass fell under the jurisdiction of the Park Service, Healthcare, or Agriculture. The Honorable (if rough and heavily bearded) Gentlepegasus, Swan Song, from Ponknee, Hinndiana, claimed that the Park Service was the thin line between Chaos and Order, which caused the Speaker to immediately try and start his own vote to abolish the department. Right Aide, a former nurse, and the Right Honorable Gentlemare from Las Pegasus, instead argued that food contributed positively to the continued life function of all ponies, and therefore grass - as well as food in general - belonged to Health.
Sap Apple, from Applelachia, called both of these Right Honorables downright foal-headed dunderheads, which the Speaker gave a 5-out-of-10, as far as insults went.
Eventually, after the addition of a tax break split the Apples, and a scuffle caused by a unicorn, the Right Dishonorable Pork Barrel of Chicoltgo, pocketing the Eye in an attempt to stall the vote, the proposal passed, three-hundred-and-one for, and one-hundred sixty-five against. Again, thirty-five abstentions.
“Final business!” Discord declared, as the ministers limped back to their seats, “We have one, final proposition for the day. A question of budgetary concern, apparently.”
The assembled members of Parliament politely averted their eyes from the royal booth overhead, as a low, mournful sigh escaped its confines.
But then, each and every member’s eyes swiveled around to watch the one amongst their number who was to speak to the next topic of debate rise from his seat. Partly, this was simply due to the blue pegasus’ surprisingly athletic physique, which was admittedly a scarce sight amidst a crowd of administrators and public speakers.
And partly, it was because every single pony there knew his name.
“The Speaker recognizes the Right Honorable Gentlesus from Cloudsdale!”
Soarin coughed, nervously, into one wing, before he pulled out a set of index cards from under his seat.
He coughed again.
“Uh, Good Evening, fellow… members of Parliament,” he muttered, “I, uh.. I am Soaring. Shoot! I meant Soarin! I… uh…”
Soarin wiped at his sweaty brow. Unfortunately, it was with his cards. Which left a black inky smear across his forehead.
Then, he dropped his cards. Which fluttered to the ground, and scattered across the floor.
“Um...:” was all Soarin said, in response.
It was the one and only time in all of recorded, un-recorded, and re-recorded history that Princess Twilight Sparkle and Discord shared the same expression.
“How in the wide, wide world of Equestria did you get elected!?”
No one batted an eye at the Speaker’s outburst. They also did not glance up to the privacy box, where the identical statement of shock had echoed. Politeness and deference to the Crown, after all.
“I told them they shouldn’t vote for celebrities!” Soarin cried out, before falling back into his seat, his eyes covered by his inky wings, “I told them it was a stupid idea, but Spitfire wanted an insider to quash any bills meant to cut our funding, and this pony in a black coat caught me with…!”
The Prime Minister, sitting a few feet away, stood up, and took hold of the microphone.
“Ah, my… fellow Parliamentarian appears to be having a moment,” Fancy Pants spoke with calm, poise, and a sense of self-confidence, “However, as I understand it, there is another pony here who can also speak to the subject at hoof.”
Near Fancy’s spot, an older scarlet pegasus stallion stood. This one had a gray mane in a crew cut, and a cutie mark that appeared to be an exploding watermelon beneath three chevrons.
Discord yawned, and lazily responded, “Yes, yes. The Speaker recognizes the lazy and dated reference.”
“Name’s Mail Call,” the stallion shouted in a loud, clear cry that could have sounded the Reveille on its own, “Gunnery Sergeant Mail Call, Equestrian Marine Corps. And though I am normally here to represent the great Molasses City and The Corps…”
Here, a number of ponies in and out of uniform gave a hearty ‘Oo-Rah!’, startling Princess Twilight in her booth.
“... Today I come before the Parliament to speak on a matter of great importance! I am here to speak to the ill-use and poor treatment of Equestria’s colts and fillies serving in uniform!”
Every member of Parliament stood up straight at the Gunney’s clarion call, even Discord, who found himself staring at the loud stallion with sudden, renewed interest in the proceedings.
“You wouldn’t happen to be a Drill Sergeant, would you?”
Mail Call simply nodded.
The Draconequus rolled his eyes and let his spine re-tangle itself. “Figures…”
“Now,” the Gunny cleared his throat, and continued in his exuberant expression, proving to many that the invention of the microphone and Maxi-Voice spell had been for nought, “As all of you may be aware, we here in Equestria have an armed forces, largely represented hereabouts by the Royal Guard.
“And that being the case,” his scowl deepened, “Y'all should be ashamed of yerselves!”
“I say,” Fancy started, “That’s a bit harsh…”
“That’s a bit hooey!” Mail Call shouted down the PM, “Celestia, bless her golden heart and her fat rump, always underfunded and under-supported our ponies in uniform, preferring to toss civilians and students at the problem!”
His eyes swiveled up to the Princess’ booth.
“No offense,” he added.
There was a wave of grumbles up and down the rows.
“Ah, you know I’m right!” Mail Call shouted down the grumblers, ignoring how the Speaker had brought out another box of popcorn, “Equestria’s annual budget for Entertainment, Sports, and Culture averages about a Billion Bits every year! The military gets one million, plus coupons for the recruits’ meals!
“You ever wonder how we lost so hard and so fast to the Storm King? Or whenever Chrysalis and her brood just farted in our general direction?” he snarled as a few hooves tried to raise themselves up to protest. None of them stayed up long.
He smirked, and added, “Here, watch this!”
All eyes turned towards the main doors, which creaked open at his signal. And then, every eye widened noticeably as a mammoth of a stallion entered. He was the ideal specimen of a Unicorn Guardpony, all rippling muscle, spiraling horn, and clean cut beneath gold and purple armor that screamed quality pony engineering.
Even Twilight, who pressed her nose up against the glass of the booth to see, had to admit that whoever that was, could probably have bench-pressed Big Mac without issue.
This Überstallion came to a stop before the assembled Parliament and saluted. He held that position as Mail Call quickly approached.
“Looking good, don’t he?” the Gunny asked with an amused smile, “The Lieutenant here is one a’ our fightinest soldiers. Top of his class, with 300 confirmed missions under his belt.
“He’s also a big sumbi--”
“Minister!”
“Right, fergot meself,” Mail Call grinned, sheepishly, then waved at the towering soldier before him, “But, anyway… it don’t really matter how big he is, or how many laps he runs around the trainin’ course.”
With that, the Gunny leaned over to the Lieutenant’s chest…
… and blew.
Every muzzle grimaced, and every ear turned down as the Ministers, Draconequus, and even the Princess and her entourage cringed at the sound of the aluminium foil bending and warping beneath Mail Call’s gentle breeze.
The large Lieutenant blushed hard beneath his armor, but managed to leave the room with some amount of dignity nonetheless. Though now with a few hundred ponies wondering if they could still hear the crinkling.
“All I ask for,” Mail Call returned to his seat, “Is to increase our budget to at least ten million bits. We could get some real armor then, and maybe save up for one tank, in about a decade. Don’t our soldiers deserve that much?”
A bright pink earth pony, who Twilight vaguely recalled seeing at Rarity’s boutique in Manehattan - at least once Vinyl Scratch and her dancers had come down from their own party upstairs - motioned to be heard.
“Speaker recognizes one of Pinkie’s mirror clones, from Manehattan!”
The mare in question glanced about the room with her oddly familiar bright blue eyes, a nervous grin cracking her otherwise serious expression.
“Fun!” she squeaked. Then, after a throat-clearing cough, she said, “Uh, I mean… thank you, Speaker.”
She winked up at the supposedly empty royal booth.
Nopony could help flinching at the sound of their sovereign's whinny of utter despair... but they tried very, very hard to not let it show.
“Sergeant Mail Call?” Pacific Glow - and certainly not Pinkie Clone #31 - asked, “With that sort of proposed budgetary increase, surely the bits will have to come from somewhere.”
“Of course they will,” the Gunny said, quickly, “In fact, since the Entertainment, or ‘Party’ budget is so bloated, why don’t we take the money from there? Surely Big Party can spare a few balloons this year for the good of Equestria?”
An accepting murmur passed through the ministers. Then, each and every one of them turned towards the Speaker.
Discord sighed, and began shaking the Eye and Nose like a pair of dice…
“I actually can’t believe the Military Budget lost!” Twilight planted her face into her forehooves, utter dismay practically dripping from her voice.
Spike, fresh out of snacks and ready to head out, had already sent the guards and servants away, once the vote had concluded. He, Discord, and Twilight were the very last to leave.
“Well,” the dragon shrugged, “I don’t know what you were expecting. Pinkie was right in front of the doors when we got here…”
“Bribing every minister who came in today,” Discord chuckled from the ceiling, where he was casually drifting by, “I gotta remember to stuff Bits into cupcakes. That’s a great little idea for Nightmare Night treats…”
“The Party Industrial Complex,” Spike tut-tutted, “Luna did warn you about them.”
Twilight shuddered, and collapsed further into her seat.
“It’s like we kept telling ya,” Spike patted her shoulder, comfortingly, “Democracy doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work.”
“... Yeah,” Twilight sighed, and slowly got back to her hooves, “Sunset said the same thing. I guess she’d know. I thought I could… I don’t know. The humans seem to do it alright, right?”
“Humans are overrated!” Discord laughed, “They don’t even have hooves!”
The Princess nodded, slowly, and began making her way towards the exit.
“So…?” Spike asked, following close behind, “What’s the next experiment?”
Twilight rolled her eyes, and tilted her head back towards the chamber they'd just left.
“For now? I’ll just veto everything and rule as an uncontested God-Empress.”
“Like Celestia, Luna, and Cadance told you?” Spike sang with a smirk.
“Yeah. I guess,” Twilight sighed as they finally left the building, and headed back towards the palace to get some actual work done.
Which left the Speaker, Discord, all alone again.
“Hrmph,” he pouted, before flying away, “I wanted to try an Anarchy next…”
Stats
Page generated in 0.029 seconds
Total duration
676 users online
727,788 hits today, 2,156,967 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
don't try anarchy. It blows up at a touch either into tribalism or tyranyy
I want to feel sorry for Twilight here, but I saw the ending coming. Not word for word of course. But any look at democracy as a whole, could tell you how this ended.
Of course what wasn't shown, was Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Flurry Heart, munching on a huge box of popcorn (provided by Discord of course), while watching all of this happen.
Twilight after she delcares herself Equestria's new, and immortal, God Empress.
It’s perfect, simply perfect, with one exception.
You know what you did...
Well, a Gunny reference. HOO-RAH!
Ha R Lee Ermey pony
I dont know what Twilight was complaining about. this looked perfectly normal to me.
They forgot that while all those who yell loudly that theyre in control are yelling loudly at each other to trying and get theirs to be the right way, most people who actually do things, are getting them done without having someone yelling at them that theyre not doing it profitably enough.
Poor Twilight... When is Celestia going to tell her that the sole purpose of the government is distract and direct attention from the real source of power?
Well, when you put it that way, the UK's parlement does look like it was made by Discord.
And yet that was still slightly more dignified than parliament discussing brexit negotiations.
My Little Pony: Nepotism is Magic!
Is this a John Bercow reference? Because this is perfect.
Although, to defend Democracy, it’s only as good as the people make it. Plus, at least when one person messes up, there’s less of a chance the whole country us screwed since others can pick up the slack.
Yeah! They were much less qualified to govern than the Solar Council!
Ooh. I rarely see unwinged nocturnal ponies.
Boooo.
He's not wrong.
The issue is less democracy and more the sudden shift to it from the aformentioned god-empire. Anyone can throw a coup and declare themselves a tyrant (Though good luck to them keeping that up for more than a few years,) but a functional democracy needs time to hash out the particulars and ease into the process. In any case, delightful stuff. Thank you as always.
It is the unequivocal sign of a tyrant, that they never have the patience to wait until the system works out its own kinks. Which is why I appreciate Princess Sunbutt so much. Say what you want about her inability to take action, she's always found a way to give her little ponies the opportunity to right their own mistakes.
Can we get a companion piece with running commentary from the former Diarchs?
10537096
That would only encourage him, you know.
10537127
10538831
Celestia was slightly embarassed at how much more efficiently Twilight was running things, despite the setbacks. Luna quietly marked down who would need to be bribed or disappeared to maintain her own shadowy control over Equestria. Cadance would start shipping random parliamentarians. And Flurry would try and chase after the Eye and Nose.
10537129
10537154
10537182
10538010
Yes! Yes! Your disapproval of puns and references fills me with POWAH!!!
10537383
10537768
10537849
10537898
Don't worry! I'm not actually calling for the violent overthrow of democracy! I just want more fistacuffs in the legislature. Keeps them honest.
10539422
Who said I disapproved?
10539637
Poor wording on my part. I put a lot of effort into punny pony names. And everyone else was disapproving. Sorry to lump you in.
10537768
He's had to have something to do post-show. I'm sure 2020 is just a few rough patches while he works things out here.
10538010
Well, he was going to go with the Boos and the Yays (and mehs) for voting, but it lost in the finals by a Nose.
Y'all
--
10540106
If only there were more Eyes in the audience. Sadly there were more lost faces than a manwha antagonist. So many lost eyes and noses.