The Great Tabloid Disaster

by Lupin

Gathering Clouds in a Gray Sky

Chapter 2: Gathering Clouds in a Gray Sky

“How did this happen?!”

Celestia watched as Constant Vigilance, her captain of the castle guard, flinched. Celestia rarely ever shouted, rarely ever raised her voice above a conversational level. But the proceedings of Day Court had strained the alicorn’s patience and temper to a breaking point.

In total, Celestia had been approached by five different manufacturers of dentures from all across Equestria, all of them trying to get her to endorse their products. Following close behind were ten other ponies trying to sell her whitening solution and other such things related to denture care. Celestia hadn’t thought there could be that many products, let alone that many businesses that traded in them.

After them came several other ponies offering to “fix her situation” either by experimental magic to regenerate her teeth, or surgery to implant prosthetics. Both options made her shudder.

Between them all, she’d barely gotten any legitimate work done, which would only compound her workload further down the line. But the problems hadn’t ended there. Oh, no. If that had been all there was, today would have merely been humiliating.

Now, Celestia had a lawsuit on her hooves. Baron Silverhoof, along with several prominent art collectors and gallery owners in the city, were suing the crown for the plummeting value of all the portraits featuring her smile. Altogether, the damages amounted to upwards of two-hundred thousand bits.

“Well?” snapped the princess. She threw the offending magazine down on the table in front of him. “Do you have an explanation for this or not?”

“My best guess is that a reporter must have been hiding in one of the trees beyond the castle perimeter,” said the unicorn.

“And how did he get close enough to take this picture?” A gold-covered hoof practically impaled the photo on the tabloid’s front cover. “Were your guards asleep?”

“N-No, ma’am!” protested Vigilance, seeming aghast at the very suggestion. “I can assure you, none of my stallions were sleeping on duty.”

“Then explain to me how this photograph,” she pressed even harder on the humiliating image, “was taken.”

“Perhaps,” ventured Constant slowly, “the photographer used a long-range lens? I’ve seen those in hobby stores.”

Celestia frowned. Hobby stores. Meaning there could be even more photographers beyond her sight, waiting to photograph her in anything remotely compromising.

“Expand the perimeter guard,” she commanded sharply. “I never want this to happen again, do you hear me?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” replied the stallion with a vigorous nod of his head. “I’ll get to it right away.” With that, he made a hasty exit out of the room.

The alicorn sighed, finally allowing her shoulders to droop. With her temper cooling, the full weight of the morning was finally hitting her. Most of Canterlot had seen that photograph. And what if the story spread beyond Canterlot? No doubt, if she made any visits anywhere across Equestria, she’d be assaulted by questions.

Celestia groaned. She’d seen ponies afflicted by Poison Joke before. Once, when she’d lived in the Castle of the Two Sisters, a guard regiment had fallen prey to the vile plant. As their guards were pranked one by one, Luna had solemnly suggested that they uproot every trace of Poison Joke and set it alight.

Celestia, however, had disagreed. What was the real harm in it, she’d said. It was only a small prank. After all, just because poison ivy gave you a rash didn’t mean you had to destroy an entire plant species.

Oh, how naïve she’d been. Now she understood the sentiment. And only now, of course, now that she herself had suffered its sense of humor, and her humiliation had been printed across the city for everypony to see. How did one even deal with these sorts of situations? For all her years, she’d never been the subject of a tabloid, and the alicorn found herself floundering on how best to approach it.

Yet, the day was far from done. She still had to consult with the royal attorneys with regards to the lawsuit. She’d have to speak to Supply Curve, her economic adviser, as well, in case worse came to worse and they were forced to pay the damages.

Two-hundred thousand bits. Minimum. Not counting court fees, it was already enough to put a not-insignificant dent in the treasury. It was even worse when you added on what they’d been forced to pay in repairs after Sunset’s disastrous first attempt at swimming this past summer. At this rate, Supply Curve was going to have an aneurysm before he even hit thirty.

Celestia trotted toward the door. No use in delaying it any further. It was time to start dealing with the fallout.

Surely, she decided, this day couldn’t get any worse.

---

“All done,” said the pegasus mare kindly.

“Can ah rinth out mah mouth now?” asked Sunset.

“Sure, you can,” said Doctor Pearly Whites, the royal dentist, and now, by extension, Sunset Shimmer’s dentist. Sitting up in the chair, the filly levitated up a cup of water and rinsed out her mouth. The ‘polish’, that’s what Pearly Whites had called it, tasted weird. But it was all part of regular cleaning, the doctor had told her.

“You’ve been such a good little filly—”

“I’m not little,” Sunset interjected. “I’m almost eight!”

“Oh, right,” smiled the blue-coated pegasus. “Your birthday’s coming up soon, isn’t it? September?”

Sunset nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, since you’ve been such a good big filly,” she said, drawing a giggle from Sunset. “I’m going to get you another sticker. Would you like that?”

Sunset beamed, nodding her head. “Can it be another sun-shaped one? Like Princess Celestia’s cutie mark.”

Pearly Whites nodded back. “Sure. Wait right here, and I’ll get it for you.”

Leaning back into the surprisingly comfy chair, Sunset Shimmer waited. Pearly Whites was a very nice dentist. Then again, she’d only ever been to a dentist once before, so her experience was rather limited. But the pegasus was always super gentle at her work.

Sunset had been so worried she’d get hurt when she saw the big hook-shaped pick, but under Pearly’s control, it had barely hurt at all. That, and Sunset brushed her teeth like the doctor told her to.

Doctor Whites even gave out stickers to the fillies and colts that were both the most well-behaved, and who took care of their teeth the best. She liked the stickers, they were shiny. Plus, they made her feel accomplished, sort of like when she passed one of the princess’s tests, only less so.

After a while, Sunset felt herself beginning to doze off. Was that a sign the chair was too comfy? Sleepily, her eyes drifted up to the wall clock. Ten minutes had gone by. The filly snapped back awake, her tiny brow furrowing in confusion.

Doctor Whites had never been gone that long to get stickers before. Worry crept into her stomach. She’d been told to wait here, but what if something had happened?

Thump.

The sound, incredibly faint as it was, made her ears twitch. What was that? It didn’t sound like a door closing. She strained her hearing, but could detect no other sounds from beyond, no sign of the pegasus’ return.

Her worries intensified, Sunset made a decision. Doctor Whites would understand, she knew.

Hopping down from the chair, she made her way out of the room into the main office. Her doctor was nowhere in sight. In fact, nopony seemed to be here. Had the secretary lady left on break or something? That was a thing secretaries did, right?

Suddenly, she picked up another sound. Voices in the distance, and the shuffling of papers. Sunset trotted in the direction of the noise, and found herself in front of a room labeled “Records.” The door was ever so slightly ajar, and the sound of a furtive argument drifted from within.

“Why’d you do that, Red Top? Now we’re in trouble!” hissed one pony angrily. A stallion, from what she could tell.

“I panicked!” stammered another stallion.

“Well, we’re never going to find anything for The Elite Inquirer if you keep panicking, so do me a favor and get back to looking through those records.”

Sunset stepped into the room, and immediately stopped dead at the sight of Doctor Pearly Whites sprawled out on the floor, groaning in pain. She gasped, rushing over to the mare’s side. “Doctor Whites!”

The two stallions spun around to face her. Both were unicorns. One was big with a brown coat, black mane, and an oversized nose, and the other was small and thin, with a white coat and a shock of red mane.

“We’ve been caught!” cried the smaller of the two.

Sunset glared at them both. “What did you do to Doctor Pearly Whites?!” she demanded.

The smaller stallion’s eyes darted around the room. “What are we going to do, Gossip Hound?”

The larger of the two, Gossip Hound, merely snorted dismissively. “Are you seriously telling me you’re scared of this little pipsqueak? She can’t be older than five.”

“I’m seven!” was Sunset’s affronted reply. Why did everypony think she was younger than she really was? “And you’re gonna stay here for the guard!”

“G-Guard?!” Red’s face went pale. “L-Look, uh, sweetie,” he said quickly. “This is all a big mistake. We were…uh, playing a game with the doctor. Yeah! We just had a little accident, that’s all.”

Sunset’s eyes went flat. “You’re lying.” Just because she was a kid didn’t mean she was stupid.

“Tell you what, kid,” cut in Hound. “We’ll give you twenty bits to keep your mouth shut and forget you saw us. How about it? You can get a lot of ice cream for that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” agreed the other stallion, nodding his head so vigorously that it seemed in danger of falling off his neck. “A whole lot of ice cream. Perfect treat after the dentist, right?”

Behind her, Doctor Whites let out a little groan, and Sunset’s body tensed in ever-rising anger. She stamped her hoof at the two ponies in open defiance. “NO!” she screamed. “You’re bad ponies! You’re gonna wait here for the guard so he can arrest you!”

“Hound…” whimpered the smaller of the two stallions.

Hound’s face darkened. “Nothing else for it. We’ll have to stuff both of them somewhere until we’re gone. Come on, lend me a hoof.” He took a menacing step forward.

Sunset positioned herself directly between the two ponies and the still unconscious doctor, lighting up her horn. “You take one more step and you’ll be sorry,” she warned them.

Hound smirked. “Is that a fact?”

Beside him, Red’s eyes darted around nervously. “Come on, kid, just come along quietly. That way you won’t get hurt.”

Sunset didn’t move an inch.

“You’ve got spunk, kid,” said Hound, sounding impressed. He lit his own horn. “But you’re way out of your league.” He glanced at Red, who reluctantly lit his own horn.

Despite it being two on one, Sunset didn’t back down. Her horn simply glowed brighter. “No, I’m not.”

Hound looked like he’d been slapped. “You’re…” The stallion let out a growl worthy of his name. “Come here, you little brat!”

The stallion made a wild lunge for her, magic still flaring. Instinct took over. Quickly, she hopped to the side, putting space between herself and her attackers. Her magic gathered together in a tiny sphere at the tip of her horn, the glow intensifying to an almost blinding luminosity.

And just as Hound turned to grab her, Sunset let loose.

The two stallions never knew what hit them.

---

“…so, I knocked them out with the stun spell and got Mister Guard to arrest them,” said Sunset Shimmer. She puffed out her chest. “Then Doctor Whites woke up, and she gave me two stickers!”

Looking her mentor in the eyes, she paused, deflated, and then shuffled a hoof against the carpet. “Are you...mad at me? You told me not to use that spell.”

Princess Celestia regarded her student. For the last ten minutes, Sunset and her escort, Broadsword, had been telling her about the rather shocking events that had taken place during Sunset’s dentist appointment. The alicorn decided, though it was too far late for it to be effective, that she shouldn’t have tempted fate.

Fate, she decided, did not do well with temptation. In fact, were fate a flesh and blood being, Celestia decided, it would most certainly be in some form of rehabilitation program or anonymous support group, eating doughnuts and drinking extremely black coffee.

“No, I’m not mad at you, Sunset,” she sighed. “In this case, you used that spell the way it was meant to be used, and I’m glad you came out safe.” She turned a much more critical eye to Broadsword. “You heard nothing of this commotion?” she asked pointedly.

The pegasus shook his head. “I only heard the boom, Your Highness,” he said, looking abashed. “I was going to investigate, when Miss Shimmer came walking down the hall with the, uh, criminals in tow.” The stallion glanced down at the filly, before inching ever so slightly away from her, as if she’d suddenly transformed into a ravenous cragadile. “Then she, uh…tossed them into the waiting room.”

Celestia frowned, spotting the unfortunately familiar body language, and seeing exactly where it was going. That made the tenth member of her guard to be intimidated by Sunset’s raw magical strength.

She could understand it, to a degree. The fact that her student had dragged two unconscious stallions in her magic, and even tossed them, was, truthfully, a terrifying display of power for one as young as her. But at the same time, Sunset was clearly a very kind-hearted filly, and was as likely to hurt them (intentionally, at least) as Celestia was to forsake sweets for a life of monastic piety.

Still, Broadsword would probably do what the other nine guards before him did, and volunteer for a job, any job, other than dealing with her student. At this rate, nopony was going to volunteer to escort her anywhere, a most impractical problem considering Celestia’s schedule.

The alicorn made a mental note to assign veterans to escort duty next time. They, she hoped, would be far less fazed by Sunset’s casual displays of magic.

Then another thought occurred to her. “You didn’t leave your post, did you, Broadsword?” she asked slowly. Her magenta eyes narrowed at the tiny traces of what appeared to be ketchup and mustard on the collar of his breastplate.

The guard pony shifted uncomfortably on his hooves. “Uh, no, Your Majesty! I never left the waiting room.” He turned quickly to Sunset. “Right, kid? You saw me, didn’t you? I was there the whole time.”

Sunset frowned. “But the glass was all wavy.” She paused, then added. “Hey, Mr. Guard, where did that big sandwich come from?”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Sandwich?” If she recalled correctly, there was a sandwich shop right across the street from the office.

“Uh-huh,” said the unicorn, nodding her head energetically. “When I tossed the pony with the big nose into the room,” as she said this, Broadsword inched further away from her, “it went all splat!”

“They must have brought it with them,” suggested the pegasus.

“But I don’t remember—”

“Was there anything else, ma’am?” asked Broadsword, quickly redirecting the conversation to the princess and silencing the little unicorn all in one go.

Celestia pursed her lips. She’d check into that later. “Has any progress been made to determine why they were there in the first place?” she inquired.

“No, Your Majesty,” answered Broadsword. “According to Sunset, their names are Red Top and Gossip Hound, and we know they gained access to the office via the back door. But as far as why they were there, they didn’t have any actual identification or anything that would suggest—”

“Ink!” Sunset piped up suddenly; then she shrunk in on herself when both Broadsword and Celestia turned to look at her.

“Sunset?” the princess started gently. “The adults are talking, but you have permission to speak.”

“Ink… ire…?” Sunset murmured, like she was trying to piece a word together. “Uh… Eh-late?” She frowned. “What do ponies call rich ponies?”

“Elite?” Celestia filled in.

“Yeah!” the filly chirped, nodding rapidly. “They said… something about The Elite… Ink-wire-er?”

Celestia’s eyebrows furrowed. “The Elite Inquirer?”

Sunset gave an energetic hop. “That was it! That was it!”

“That’s a tabloid, ma’am,” said Broadsword.

“I’m aware.” The solar princess leaned back on her throne. Two reporters of The Elite Inquirer caught searching through the records room of her dentist? Only one conclusion leapt to mind. “They must have been trying to one-up The Whisperer.”

From what she knew of the Canterlot tabloid scene, The Whisperer and The Elite Inquirer had often been in conflict with one another, a sort of unofficial rivalry to be the top dog of salacious gossip. Only a few years ago, their photographers had gotten into a full-on street fight just outside Sharp Suit’s family estate.

Discreet inquiries had told her that The Whisperer’s piece on her so-called “dentures” had caused their sales to skyrocket. It would only be natural that The Inquirer would try to outdo them. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if any of the city’s other tabloids threw their hats into the ring.

Celestia sighed. It was bad enough that one tabloid was causing her trouble, but two, or even more?

“Broadsword, see that those two ponies are fully prosecuted for trespassing, assault, and attempted kidnapping of a minor and ward of the Equestrian state,” she stated darkly. “And also send a warning to The Inquirer about the actions of their employees.”

“At once, Your Majesty.” With a final salute, Broadsword left the room.

For a moment, all was quiet.

At least, until Sunset spoke up again. “Princess, what did you mean about the ink... ink-wire-er trying to one-up The Whisperer?”

Celestia didn’t answer right away. After all, it was her problem, and her problem alone, and there was no reason to burden a filly like Sunset with such things. But then she remembered that some of the ponies at her school read the tabloids, and realized that Sunset was likely to hear about this entire mess anyway.

Celestia summoned the offending article in her magic, and presented it to Sunset. “This came out today.”

The unicorn took one look at the page, and then let out the loudest gasp her tiny throat was capable of. “But that was the Poison Joke!”

“We both know that, but they don’t.” said Celestia. “Regardless, quite a few ponies read this, so I want you to be aware in case you hear it at school. I don’t want you getting into any trouble over this.”

The little unicorn scowled at the tabloid. “This isn’t fair! Ponies shouldn’t be able to lie like this.”

“I know, Sunset, but as I said, it’s an unfortunate side effect of a free press.”

“You should have the other newspapers writing stuff about you,” said the unicorn angrily, looking up at her mentor with those big, cyan eyes. “I bet they wouldn’t lie.”

Celestia paused. Sunset had made a valid point. Perhaps it was, as the saying went, time to fight fire with fire.

“Princess?” Sunset questioned. “What is it?”

The alicorn smiled down at her. “My faithful student, I do believe you’ve given me an idea.”

---

“Do you have everything you need for your article, Mr. Byline?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” answered the unicorn as he scribbled in his notepad. “I have to say, it’s an...interesting story.”

Celestia raised a single, sculpted eyebrow as she looked down at the beige stallion before her.

Byline was, according to the editor of The Canterlot Times, their most respected and valued reporter. It had been a rather rushed proposal that she’d sent off to the editor of The Times, which wasn’t her usual style. Time was of the essence, however. The faster she fought back against this tabloid nonsense, the sooner it would be squelched.

After all, what better way to counter the negative press of a tabloid than with positive press from the most respectable reporter at the most respectable and trusted news outlet in the city?

“It’s the truth, Mr. Byline,” she insisted. “Or do you doubt me?”

“Oh, no, Your Majesty!” proclaimed Byline with a vigorous shake of his head. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. To think all of this was caused by a simple flower.” Hurriedly, he put away his notebook, before smiling up at the alicorn. “And I’m sure the rest of Canterlot will feel that way as well.” He straightened his tie. “If anypony can clear this mess up for you, it’s me. My word is as good as gold.”

Celestia nodded, pleased with his answer. “That’s very good. I will expect your work in tomorrow’s morning edition.”

With a bow, Byline left the throne room, leaving Celestia by herself. She smiled. This would most certainly put an end to this denture nonsense, and with it, clear up all the associated problems. She’d be able to dismiss the lawsuit, and she wouldn’t have Day Court clogged with ponies trying to sell her things, and could actually get work done.

Celestia was interrupted from her musings by a knock at the door. “Enter,” she said, not looking up from the stack of papers Kibitz had given her that morning. Considering the time, it was probably Sunset, searching for her mentor since she wasn’t in her usual place.

The doors swung open, and the solar alicorn found herself surprised when, rather than an amber unicorn filly, a green unicorn mare entered the room. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” greeted Jade Comb, otherwise known as the royal stylist, rubbing a hoof behind her head.

“Jade? What brings you here at this time of day?” asked Celestia, rising to her hooves. “Normally you’d be busy with clients right now.”

“Well,” laughed the unicorn weakly, “The thing is, I’m here because I seem to have lost my appointment book.” Red tinged her cheeks. “I’m not sure how it happened, but I can’t find it, and neither can any of my employees.”

The alicorn nodded in understanding. “I see. So now you’re visiting your clients to try and piece together any upcoming appointments, is that it?”

The unicorn nodded. “Yes. I can’t quite remember what day I had you scheduled for, Your Majesty. Was it...next week? Or the week after that?”

Before the princess could answer, there came another knock at the door, and this time, Sunset Shimmer trotted inside. “Hi, princess...oh!” Sunset stopped, noticing the other pony in the room. “Hi, Miss Comb. What are you doing here?”

“She lost her appointment book, Sunset, so she’s just here trying to figure out when I was supposed to visit her again,” explained Celestia.

“Actually,” said Jade, “I don’t remember when Sunset was supposed to come in, either.” Looking down at the filly, she gestured with a hoof. “No time like the present, though! Come here and let me have a look at you, honey.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sunset skipped over to the older unicorn, and Jade pulled out a comb from her saddlebags, gently running it through Sunset’s mane and tail.

Celestia rolled her eyes. Ever since Sunset had decided that nopony could touch her mane and tail except for “trained pro-fess-on-alls,” she’d taken to brushing them herself in the morning. Of course, considering she was only seven, her ability to discern what was presentable and what didn’t was severely lacking.

This deficiency had resulted in a number of mornings where she’d walked around the castle with some of the worst bedhead Celestia had ever seen. It was only through Jade’s gentle coaching that the problem had mercifully disappeared, and thankfully before the filly started school. The last thing Celestia would have wanted was her star pupil showing up on the first day with the messiest mane in Canterlot.

Celestia had started paying Jade extra after that.

“Nope, everything looks just as perfect as I left it,” smiled Jade. “Not that I had to do much. You won’t need to come in for another two or three weeks, I’d say.”

Sunset beamed up at the mare. “Thank you!”

“Jade,” interrupted Celestia. “If you still can’t remember the appointment date, I can call for Kibitz. He would most certainly have added it to his schedule.”

Within a few minutes, her majordomo was summoned, and Jade left, the forgotten appointment date now written down. Once everypony else had cleared out, Celestia turned to her student. “So, Sunset, how was school today?”

“It was okay,” replied the filly, her expression dropping. “Ponies were still talking about you, though.”

Celestia nodded. “I doubted they were going to stop. But you don’t have to worry about that for much longer. I’ve actually taken steps to end the problem.”

“Really?!” Sunset exclaimed excitedly. “What did you do, what did you do?”

The alicorn laughed. “Well, I decided to take your advice, my faithful student. Come.” She guided the filly with a wing. “Let’s get some tea, and you can tell me about how school went today.”

---

“Rejected?!”

Princess Celestia had been having a wonderful day. She’d slept especially well, the weather was bright and warm, she’d had a sumptuous breakfast, and her schedule was, relatively speaking, rather light. A wonderful day that was, until this very moment.

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty,” stuttered the cause of her morning’s ruination, a small white mare named Chalk Piece. “The Canterlot Teacher’s Association decided to, uh, re-reject your request to speak at this year’s dinner.”

Celestia’s serene face nearly fell into a scowl, but with years of training, she managed to keep it only to a highly disapproving frown. “May I ask why?” she said, her voice tight.

Chalk Piece shrank back. “W-Well, Your Majesty, given your recent, uh, problems in the tabloids, the association’s board felt it better to avoid getting tangled in any controversies that might drown out the discussion on education.”

Celestia repressed a sigh, annoyance surging up inside her. Of course, it was the tabloid nonsense that was responsible for this. But, she realized, this was precisely why she’d taken steps against it.

She gave the smaller mare her most pleasant smile. “Miss Chalk Piece, I’ve already cleared up that unfortunate misunderstanding. Did the association’s board not see the article in The Canterlot Times? It should have come out this morning.”

“They did,” answered the unicorn. “But most of them didn’t quite believe it.” She shook her head. “Not that I blame them,” she muttered, seeming momentarily distracted by her memories. “I mean, it sounded like…” Chalk Piece froze, craning her neck slowly upwards to meet Celestia’s inquiring gaze.

“You thought it sounded like what, my little pony?” Though the smile was still on her face, her words came out as stiff as a petrified tree.

“Nothing, Your Majesty,” said the unicorn, smiling in a way so forced that it was physically painful to look at.

Celestia stared her down. “Tell me,” she commanded.

“I-I…” Chalk Piece began to hyperventilate, and for a moment, Celestia thought she’d drop dead of a heart attack. The unicorn squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away like she was bracing for a mortal blow. “It sounded like something my ten-year-old daughter would come up with!” she blurted out.

Celestia’s jaw fell slack. “…What?”

Breathing heavily, and seeing the princess wasn’t going to respond any further, Chalk Piece continued. “Princess, I couldn’t find anything about Poison Joke in the Encyclopedia Equestria. I checked all the botany books I could find, and I still couldn’t find any references. As far as I could see, there was no proof that it exists at all.”

Chalk Piece sighed. “I understand if you were just trying to get the tabloid off your back. Really, I do. But, Your Majesty, you’re…you’re not doing a very good job of it.” She turned her head away again. “Please don’t punish me.”

If anypony had been in that room with a stopwatch, they would have realized that it took a total of thirty seconds before Celestia’s jaw snapped shut. No proof. Yes, Poison Joke was a rare flower that only existed in the Everfree Forest. Yes, very few ponies went in there these days. And yes, it was true that the manuscript detailing the cure was many centuries old.

But was Poison Joke really so obscure as to have gone undocumented in the modern field of botany? Professor Green Leaves knew of its existence. Had he never published any of his findings at all?

Not that she could get him to testify now. The day after Sunset’s fateful mix-up with his bottle of extract (something she was still going to discuss with him), he’d gone off on a research trip to the Forbidden Jungle for Mother only knew how long.

Securing Poison Joke wasn’t an option, either. From what she recalled of those long-ago days in the Castle of the Two Sisters, the flower was no longer in bloom at this time of year. Even if she dared to send a team into the Everfree Forest to find the buds, they would not possess the magical oil required to prove her point. Celestia wasn’t even sure the flower would grow outside the Everfree’s magic.

“But it does exist,” insisted the princess, seeing no alternative before her. “Miss Chalk Piece, you have my word as princess of Equestria that Poison Joke is indeed a real flower, and if you could simply speak to the board on my behalf, I would be most grateful.”

Chalk Piece shook her head. “I’m sorry, princess,” she sighed, looking at Celestia with something akin to pity. “But the CTA was quite firm in their decision.”

Celestia’s shoulders slumped. “I…see.”

“But don’t worry!” said Chalk Piece. “We all know how much you care about education, and your work with the CTA, so the board wanted me to assure you that we won’t go without a key speaker. In fact, they already lined up a replacement.”

“Oh?” said the princess, only half-interested. Her thoughts were too occupied with the horrible sensation of disbelief, and the growing worry that her efforts with The Times would amount to naught. “They managed to find somepony that quickly?”

“Yes,” smiled Chalk Piece. “Lady Blueblood was most gracious to step in.”

Celestia almost choked on her own saliva.

Lady Blueblood?! The Canterlot Teachers Association had replaced her as the key speaker with her of all ponies? That pompous windbag?! If they gave that mare the stage, she’d twist the event into a glorification of herself rather than the association. She wanted to tell Chalk Piece that, to tell her that, but already knew her arguments would fall on deaf ears.

So instead, the solar alicorn merely grit her teeth. “That’s…wonderful.”

Once Chalk Piece excused herself, Celestia slumped in her throne. What kind of insanity was this? The Canterlot Teachers Association invited her to be the guest speaker at their dinner every year. Sometimes she wasn’t able to make it, but Celestia had always made the effort to oblige them.

And now, not only did the CTA’s board think she was controversial and a liar, but they’d replaced her with Lady Blueblood, a pony who, in Celestia’s opinion, was a one mare case study for why the whole nobility system deserved to be dismantled.

Knowing her the way she did, Celestia was sure that the sudden replacement would have Lady Blueblood crowing for weeks, and make her even more insufferable than she was already, and that was quite a high bar to clear.

She sighed. Could this day get any worse?

As if in response to that highly dangerous, fate-tempting thought, it was then that Kibitz entered the room. “Your Majesty.” He stopped, noticing her posture. “Did something happen?”

“Bad news, Kibitz,” Celestia answered sullenly. “What is it? Is another meeting about to start?”

The stallion cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, Your Majesty. As you recall, you asked me to keep abreast of the,” he cleared his throat again, “tabloid situation.”

Dread settled in the pit of her ageless stomach. It couldn’t be.

Kibitz levitated up a newspaper. Even rolled up as it was, Celestia could still make out The Whisperer’s distinctive dark blue and pink feather logo.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but this came out earlier today.”

Celestia grabbed it in her magic, quickly unrolling it to reveal the front page.

“BAD MANE DAY! PRINCESS CELESTIA’S SECRET DYE JOBS!”

Fate it seemed, had relapsed into sadism.

For the second time in a week, Celestia let loose a scream to rival the force of the Royal Canterlot Voice, and every window in the throne room shattered into a thousand pieces.

Kibitz, who lay on his belly, covering his ears with his forehooves, could only lament at the destruction. “We just had those replaced…”

---

“Those scoundrels! Why, I should have them arrested for this!”

Those were the words of Jade Comb as she ranted in the once-again windowless throne room. She’d charged in not long after Kibitz, flames practically pouring from her ears as she proclaimed that the ponies at The Canterlot Whisperer must have stolen her appointment book.

As much as the thought of arresting the employees of The Whisperer pleased Celestia, she knew the chance was a slim one. According to Jade, her appointment book had been returned to her not long after her last visit to the palace, and even if one could prove it had been stolen and not misplaced, the charge would hardly be effective to curb the problem at hoof.

Speaking of which…

Celestia turned her gaze back down to the offending newspaper, reading the article again for the fourth time since Kibitz had presented it to her. It claimed that her mane and tail were not, in fact, the colors of the radiant dawn, but rather had gone completely gray, had done so fifteen years ago, and since then she’d been covering it up with the most frequent and meticulous applications of dye known to ponykind.

Scowling, also for the fourth time since being presented with the thing, her eyes traveled further downward to the tabloid’s source of “definitive proof.” There, in full color, was a picture of what appeared to be an appointment ledger with the words “Appointment for P.C. Dye job.” along with “get more pink dye” scribbled in the notes section.

“Who did you say this client was, Jade?”

The unicorn stopped her tracks, face still flush with rage as she turned to face her princess. “Petit Cheri, Your Majesty.”

“And do you think you could convince her to clear up this mess?”

Jade looked away. “Well, I, uh…I don’t think so. Not to speak ill of my clients, but Petit is a very vain mare. She already goes through a great deal of effort to hide the fact that she’s getting gray hairs, and to get her to reveal that to the public?”

“Of course,” grumbled Celestia, “that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

“B-But,” added Jade hesitantly, “that doesn’t mean I can’t try to convince her.”

“Could you?” asked Celestia, hoping against all odds that Jade could somehow perform this one little miracle. “You would be free to mention my eternal gratitude, if that helps.”

“Yes, ma’am!” The unicorn struck a salute before dashing out of the room at a frankly surprising speed for a pony that was, by all accounts, not terribly athletic. Celestia was suddenly reminded of how she’d been considering instituting a program to encourage mare recruitment in the guard.

Perhaps, she mused, she should ask Jade if she wanted to volunteer. And then, perhaps, she could unleash the furious stylist upon the offices of The Whisperer.

The only thing she could hope for at the moment was that this article didn’t do as much damage as the last one. It was not a totally unreasonable hope. After all, while this article had a picture, it was flimsier “evidence” than the Poison Joke photo had been. Ponies were smart enough to realize that “P.C.” could stand for ponies other than her.

“Princess,” said one of her guards. “The petitioners are here.”

Celestia set the newspaper down, steeling herself for the moment of truth. She waved a gold-clad hoof at the door “Send them in.”

The guard cleared his throat. “Princess, per your instructions, I vetted the crowd, and I should tell you that many of them seemed to be—”

He was cut off when the doors crashed open, and a deluge of ponies spilled forth into the room.

“Princess, my company’s willing to offer you a deal!”

“Our dye is permanent, Your Majesty!”

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, my spell is guaranteed to restore your colors!”

“Princess, what am I supposed to do with this painting?! It’s worthless now!”

As her guards scrambled to contain the crowd and force them into an orderly line, Celestia ground her teeth. Enough, she decided, was enough.

This meant war.

Comments

[sirenc0re]

HEEELP TELLING CELESTIA THAT SHES A WORST LIAR THAN A CHILD... i wouldnt recover. being pony princess is indeed pain

[Uz Naimat]

I love everything about this.

The best part was Sunset. I love the fact that sheʼs capable of extremely powerful magic, yet is unable to pronounce words like “elite” and “professional”. And I freaking love this little call forward to Sunsetʼs future as a villain:

The fact that her student had dragged two unconscious stallions in her magic, and even tossed them, was, truthfully, a terrifying display of power for one as young as her. But at the same time, Sunset was clearly a very kind-hearted filly, and was as likely to hurt them (intentionally, at least) as Celestia was to forsake sweets for a life of monastic piety.

[Lupin]

11649102
Thank you. I just personally loved the idea that Sunset was an adorable little Destructo Child. XD

[Stet709]

You know, When I saw Jade going through Sunset's hair, I'll admit I was a tad suspicious that she would take Sunset's hair for a DNA test (somehow), to see if she and Celestia were related. Glad to know it seems Jade Comb at least seems faithful enough to Celestia.

[Lupin]

11649186
Huh. You know, I don’t think that possibility occurred to me in all the years I tinkered with this on and off. I mean, I’m not going to use it since I’ve basically planned everything out, but still, an interesting alternative.

[red-sun]

This meant war.

And I hope Sunset helps.