Renaming Starlight's Village

by Brass Polish

11. The Future Looks Fattening

Author's Note:

A frustrated psychic opted for Starlight’s village because too many ponies had the wrong idea about his parlour trick.

The Crusaders were anxiously awaiting replies from home regarding whether or not they’d be allowed to stay in Starlight’s Village after summer came to an end. Scootaloo in particular was having a hard time dealing with her impatience. For a couple days now, she’d spent most of her energy driving her scooter up and down the road.

“Hey, watch out!” shouted Party Favour.

Scootaloo braked, but too late; her scooter’s front tire hit the balloon basset hound/german shepherd mix Party Favour was walking, bursting it.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo grimaced as she and Party Favour looked down at the red rubber roadkill.

Party Favour sighed. “Don’t you and your friends think you could use your time more productively? Like, doing what you came to this Village for in the first place?”

“I can’t help it,” Scootaloo said, unable to keep still. “The suspense is killing me.”

“Well…” Party Favour scratched his head. “Why not go see the town psychic?”

*****

Party Favour pointed the way to Mancy’s cottage. Scootaloo scooted straight there and knocked on the door.

“Oh, hello,” said the purple earth pony upon answering the door. “Dreading having to return to school?”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo grinned. “Wow, Party Favour wasn’t kidding.”

Impressed, Scootaloo went on to explain why she was dreading going back to school.

“Me and my two friends want to carry on helping Villagers with cutie mark crises. We’re waiting to hear back from home to see if they’ll let us stay.”

Mancy stared into space for a moment.

“I see…” he said, his eyes still unfocused, “A sheet of paper… with a stamp on it.”

Scootaloo blinked. “...Huh.”

Mancy looked at Scootaloo as if to say “Why are you still here?” Scootaloo, starting to feel a little awkward, turned away. Mancy went back into his cottage. Scootaloo scooted back to the Cafe, not nearly as impressed as earlier.

*****

The Crusaders hovered around Sugar Belle’s mailbox the next morning.

“I dreamed I got a letter from Rarity last night,” sighed Sweetie Belle.

“Funny. So did I,” said Apple Bloom.

The Crusaders chuckled.

“Do you think we’re getting obsessed?” asked Apple Bloom.

“If we were,” said Sweetie Belle, “Queen Luna would have showed up in our dreams to give us a pep talk. And maybe show us bits of what the future would be like if we get too impatient.”

“That reminds me,” siad Scootaloo. “Yesterday, Party Favour introduced me to the town psychic.”

“Mancy?” came Night Glider’s voice.

The Crusaders turned and were delighted to see Night Glider fly up to the mailbox with a mail bag.

“Don’t bother with him, you three,” she chuckled. “Psychics are all frauds. They use parlor tricks and cold reading to fool simpletons into believing everything they say.”

*****

The Crusaders weren’t really listening.

“Any letters for us?”

Night Glider reached into her mail bag.

“Just one,” she said.

She placed a rolled up scroll into the mailbox and flew off down the street.

“Only one of us got a reply?” Apple Bloom frowned.

She opened the mailbox and took the scroll out.

“Who’s it for?” bounced Sweetie.

“Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo yanked the scroll out of Apple Bloom’s hooves, unrolled it, and read it. Her face fell. She threw the letter to the ground and stomped on it. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle gulped.

“So…” said Sweetie hastily, “what did that psychic pony say when you talked to him?”

Scootaloo’s face relaxed a little, but she still didn’t look up.

“He said he could see a sheet of paper with a stamp on it,” she recalled. “I guess he wasn’t wrong.”

*****

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Sounds like Night Glider’s right,” Sweetie grinned. “I mean, that does sound like a pretty vague prediction.”

“I remember Granny Smith telling me that ponies who believe everything a psychic predicts end up superstitious and become putty in the psychic’s hooves,” said Apple Bloom.

Having never met Mancy themselves, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle didn’t know that the purple stallion standing close by at the grocery stall was him.

Scootaloo looked up, and grinned. “Well, he did say he saw one sheet of paper. And I’m the only one who’s got a letter from home.”

“Oh, that doesn’t mean anything,” scoffed Apple Bloom. “Me and Sweetie’ll get letters from home too… eventually.”

“I don’t think so,” grinned Scootaloo. “Look who’s coming into town.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle turned and jumped in surprise. There, entering the threshold to the Village, were their sisters Applejack and Rarity.

*****

“We decided to come and tell y’all in person,” Applejack said after greetings were exchanged, “that we both want you to come back home and back to school.”

Apple Bloom’s and Sweetie Belle’s faces were as downcast as Scootaloo’s had been when she’d read her letter from home.

“But we want to clarify,” said Rarity, “that we have no objections if you want to move here after you’ve graduated. From what we’ve heard about your stay here, you’ve done a marvelous job helping former cultists.”

“And guess who their next customer is.” Mancy trotted up to the outdoor Cafe table the Crusaders and their sisters were sitting at.

*****

Sugar Belle came out to take brunch orders, and Mancy began to tell the Cutie Mark Crusaders about his problem.

“I got my cutie mark…” he showed them the image of three crystal balls on his flank, “after finding my talent for cold reading and predicting some upcoming events by starting with something vague or small.”

Scootaloo nodded. “So what went wrong? What drove you to this Village?”

“Smart-alecs,” scowled Mancy. “One day, about a year after I got my cutie mark, I broke my leg. And one of my old friends says ‘How did you not see that coming? You’re supposed to be psychic.”

He spat on the ground.

“What a stupid thing to say,” he went on. “Think about it. If psychic abilities really existed, what makes you think somepony would spend all his time predicting the future? That’d be insane.”

“Why?” asked Applejack. “That’s all I’d do.”

“You’d be in for a miserable existence then,” Mancy frowned. “If I had predicted that I’d break my leg, then why would I try to prevent it? If I saw the future, I’d know there’s nothing I can do about it. Some psychics are stupid and claim that visions of the futrue just come to them. A sensible psychic has a process. Some use cards, others read frogs, and for some, the process can be as simple as staring into space.”

*****

“But…” said Rarity, trying to force back a grin, “psychic abilities are not real, right? It is only a parlour trick.”

“Oh, yes, predicting the future and speaking to the dead is a parlour trick,” Mancy nodded. “But it’s a good parlour trick, is it not?”

He smiled a little at the murmurs of agreement from the Crusaders and their sisters.

“But nopony has any respect for psychics. For years, I had customers who were condescending and clueless. Some punk colt kicked me once and then called me a fraud and walked away. This one customer I had later had her house burn down, and she hunted me down and demanded to know why I never told her. And some of the idiots I’ve done readings on have zero imagination. They’re not like you, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo gave a start. “Wait a minute, I never told you my name.”

“We live in a society of nominative determinism,” said Mancy flatly. “You showed up at my cottage riding a scooter.”

Impressed murmurs wafted over the table.

“I don’t know if she’s told you about our little meeting yesterday…” Mancy said.

“Don’t you?” chuckled Night Glider as she passed by delivering mail along the other side of the street. “And you’re supposed to be…”

“I can see you in goggles and a blue and cream one-piece uniform!” barked Mancy.

Night Glider glared and carried on with her deliveries.

*****

“So what did y’all tell Scootaloo yesterday?” pressed Applejack.

“I could tell as soon as I saw her that she was dreading the prospect of going back to school,” Mancy said. “And let’s face it; anypony could tell that. Summer’s nearly over. Every youngster dreads going back to school. Especially in this town.”

“Because there’s no schoolhouse here in the Village and they have to leave their families to go to boarding school?” asked Scootaloo.

Mancy nodded. At that moment, Sugar Belle came back out with most of their brunch orders.

“Sorry Rarity, but I haven’t got any butter tarts ready to go right now,” she said. “I’ve got some in the oven. It’ll be a little while.”

“That’s quite alright, darling,” Rarity insisted.

*****

“What my psychic parlour trick is supposed to do,” Mancy went on, “is to set ponies imaginations to work. Lots of ponies' imaginations run wild when they’re excited…”

The Crusaders tried not to make eye contact with Applejack and Rarity.

“So if I were to start with something vague, or to expand on a tiny detail, I can satisfy a broad range of imaginative minds. I’ll give you an example.”

Mancy looked at Scootaloo, then stared off into space.

“I see… you are festooned with unwarranted wounds.”

Scootaloo shuffled in her seat.

“You did just say she had her scooter with her yesterday,” said Sweetie in an unimpressed tone. “Live by the sword, die by the sword. It… kind of is only a matter of time before you have some kind of accident on your scooter.”

Scootaloo shrugged; she’d always been aware of this.

“But what about the ‘unwarranted’ part?” asked Apple Bloom. “I mean, does somepony sabotage her?”

“I don’t know,” said Sweetie. “But if I were Scootaloo, and somepony told me this, I’d try to be more careful on my scooter. And if one day I have an accident and get injured… it’d likely not be my fault, as I was being careful.”

“Hey, maybe it doesn’t even have anything to do with her scooter,” suggested Apple Bloom. “Like you said; live by the sword, die by the sword. No matter what a pony does, no matter what a pony gets a cutie mark for, there’s always a risk of harm and damage and hardship…”

“I think you can see my point,” said Mancy. “I make a small observation and I say something vague yet stimulating to give a small amount of focus to an otherwise anxious mind.”

*****

Applejack and Rarity were getting into this whole cold-reading thing.

“I can quite agree, it is a good parlour trick,” said Rarity.

“Could y’all do one on us?” asked Applejack.

Mancy stared off into space for a moment.

“I see two containers…” he said, as Sugar Belle came back out with a fresh butter tart for Rarity. “One empty, one full.”

Applejack and Rarity pondered this.

“That might be about the work you’ve left behind to come here,” Sugar Belle interjected. “The empty container is an apple basket at Sweet Apple Acres, and the full on is the in-tray at Carousel Boutique.”

“If you like,” shrugged Mancy. “I just pulled that out of thin air.”

*****

“You’re lazy!” snapped Night Glider, trotting back to her cottage having finished her mail rounds. “Other ponies do all the work for you.”

Mancy said nothing until Night Glider had gone into her house.

“We got on quite well when Starlight was in charge,” he sighed. “Can you three help me?”

Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle looked at each other, each hoping one of the other two would say something.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Rarity, “if the Cutie Map back in Twilight's Castle were to deem this a friendship problem rather than a cutie mark problem.”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” shrugged Applejack. “Unless y’all can see anything that’ll tell us.”

Mancy glanced at Night Glider’s cottage and scowled. “I’ve had enough for now. Take your time, Crusaders. If you don’t come up with anything before summer ends, you can always send me a letter.”

With that, he stood up from the table, left some money for his share of the bill, and walked back home.

*****

Despite the tricky problem hanging over them, the Cutie Mark Crusaders still had an enjoyable rest of their day, talking and playing with Applejack and Rarity. The next day, after their sisters had left, the Crusaders consulted together on how to try and help Mancy overcome smart-alec remarks and accusations of fraud. It didn’t take long for them to agree on what their biggest obstacle; or rather, who was their biggest obstacle.

*****

They invited Night Glider to the Cafe that afternoon.

“You came to this Village to get away from ponies who were always telling you that you’re talented enough to be a Wonderbolt, right?” Sweetie Belle asked her.

“Yeah,” said Night Glider.

“Well Mancy came to this Village to get away from ponies who take his parlour trick too seriously,” said Apple Bloom.

Night Glider sniffed. “These so-called psychics feed on ponies’ fear and uncertainty.”

“Mancy doesn’t,” insisted Scootaloo. “He doesn’t seek out ponies who are dying to know something. He only does readings on anypony, anypony at all, who goes up to him. He’s not a show-off. He just wants to entertain. Just like you.”

Night Glider scowled. “I don’t do aerial acrobatics to entertain. It’s my exercise. That’s all. I wish I could do it where nopony could see me. But… well it’s too cold for me up in the mountains.”

“Oh,” frowned Scootaloo. “But when ponies watch you flying around, it makes them happy. And Mancy makes ponies happy by…”

“By giving them false hope and a belief in something that isn’t there,” interrupted Night Glider. “That’s not happiness. That’s delusion. And we've had enough delusions in our cult days. I may not intend to entertain ponies with my aerial acrobatics, but at least there are no falsehoods in my… performances. Ponies see me fly around and think ‘Oh, she’s got strong wings and is athletic’. And they’re right. Ponies listen to the garbage that Mancy pulls out of nowhere and think ‘Oh, he’s got some supernatural power, I’d better hang on his every word’. And they’re wrong.”

*****

“Well that’s on them,” said Scootaloo bluntly. “Not on Mancy. Just like with any performance. He’s just doing what he knows he’s good at; like any pony would. Your cutie mark tells you you’re good at flying, and his tells him he’s good at predicting the future.”

“Without trying,” Night Glider pressed. “Anypony could do what he does.”

“Yes,” said Scootaloo impatiently, “but not just anypony gets a cutie mark for it.”

There was silence for a little while.

*****

“It’s dinner time,” Sugar Belle announced. “Are you staying, Night Glider?”

Night Glider shook her head. “I’m going home.”

Scootaloo sighed. So did Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle when they saw what was for dinner that night; left-over baked goods that nopony had ordered or purchased at the Cafe that day.

“It feels like it’s left-overs for dinner every night,” sighed Apple Bloom.

“I just don’t want it all to go to waste,” insisted Sugar Belle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t predict what customers will order and not order. Even in a tightly-knit community like this, it’s impossible to know who will order what and how much of it.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Night Glider as she was about to exit the Cafe. “There you go, fillies!”

And she left without elaborating. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were puzzled, but Scootaloo quickly realised what she meant.

*****

Early the next morning, Scootaloo invited Mancy to the Cafe. Sugar Belle was about to start baking. Scootaloo asked Mancy to instruct Sugar Belle on what to make and how much of it. At first, Mancy didn’t say much. But within an hour, he had told Sugar Belle not to bother making any chocolate-glazed donuts.

“But those always sell well,” Sugar Belle said.

“Don’t bother with them,” insisted Mancy.

So Sugar Belle didn’t, and moved on to making cherry-chip cupcakes.

“No need to fill that last hole,” Mancy said as she was loading the cupcake tray.

“Oh… okay,” said Sugar Belle.

She went on to mix up a batch of macadamia cookies.

“Better make more of those,” Mancy said.

So Sugar Belle made another batch.

“Still more,” Mancy said.

*****

At first, Sugar Belle was nervous about Mancy’s predictions. As the day went on, however, she found she was able to satisfy every customer’s order, and towards the end of the day, the amount of left-over baked goods was dropping by the minute.

“It looks like I’ll be able to make a fresh dinner tonight,” Sugar Belle smiled to Mancy and the Cutie Mark Crusaders when closing time was a few minutes away. “All that’s left is…”

The Cafe door opened. Night Glider staggered in; she was covering her eyes with one of her wings.

“Okay Mancy, here’s the deal,” she said, walking blindly into the Cafe. “I’m gonna order some stuff, and if it’s all there, and there’s nothing left over, then I promise to never call you a fraud or lazy again. I’ll have…”

She thought about what she’d like to snack on.

“Two yeast rings, one peanut butter brownie, and a toasted all-grain bagel with cream cheese.”

She uncovered her eyes. There on the counter were two yeast rings, one peanut butter brownie, and a toasted all-grain bagel, which Sugar Belle was spreading the last of her day’s supply of cream cheese on.

*****

Night Glider paid for her food and walked up to Mancy and the Crusaders.

“You were right, kids,” she said. “He is good at what his cutie mark tells him.”

She held her hoof out to Mancy.

“You came to this Village to escape from irritating comments, just like me,” she said apologetically. “I should have respected that.”

Satisfied, Mancy shook Night Glider’s hoof, and Night Glider left with her food.

“Okay, I’ll just get dinner started,” smiled Sugar Belle. “I’m thinking fresh cream cake and cheddar biscuits.”

The Crusaders were excited.

“Thanks for your help today, Mancy,” said Sugar Belle. “Want to stay for dinner?”

“No thanks, Sugar Belle,” said Mancy. “I think I need to get to sleep. I’ve never worked a full day before. Maybe Night Glider was right. Maybe I was lazy.”

Everypony chuckled.

“Bye. And thanks,” Mancy said to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. “This was a great start.”

“You’re welcome,” smiled Scootaloo. “We’ll let you know if we think of anything else.”

Mancy stared off into space. “I see… a setting sun… and a rising sun of a smaller size than the one that set.”

And Mancy walked out of the Cafe.

Comments

[PonyofEntropy]

Nice update.

[Yoshifan30]

So basically he wants to get away from everything because people thinks hes a fraud Which I'm sure that would frustrate him so much hes just good at it But he has a pretty good guess how much amount of sweets to sell and left over so that's actually pretty cool