It was a scheduled rainy Thursday. A small group of ponies gathered together on the hilltop cemetery near Canterlot.
"Thanks for coming, everypony," said Twilight Sparkle, standing at a small covered podium with a set of note cards. Conversations died down as ponies took their seats, umbrellas open. Most of the chairs were empty. Aside from her six dearest friends, Twilight didn't recognize anypony. The crowd probably just wanted to witness a princess giving a eulogy.
She cleared her throat and flipped through her notes: once, twice, three times. The herd waited patiently while the princess fidgeted.
I have to do her justice, thought Twilight. Everypony deserves to be remembered.
Twilight took the microphone in one hoof. The speakers at the base of the podium crackled and whined, and then she spoke. "We are gathered here together to remember The Great and Powerful Trixie, a showpony and mage of incredible talent—"
"Wait!" shouted a voice from halfway down the hill. "Trixie is not yet prepared to receive your adoration!" Ponies turned and stared as The Great and Powerful Trixie herself came galloping through the rain, dressed in her magician's hat and cape.
Rainbow Dash stood up and groaned. "Leave it to Trixie to fake her own death for attention," she said. "Do you have any idea how much you upset Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie?"
Trixie gasped. "How dare you! The Great and Powerful Trixie would never fake her own death! That kind of stunt is beneath a pony of Trixie's stature," she stated, her head held high. Upon reaching the podium overhang, Trixie removed her hat and wrung the water out of it, then placed it back upon her head.
Twilight Sparkle sighed as Trixie approached her. "I assume you can explain, Trixie?"
Trixie sauntered up to Twilight and pushed her aside. "Thank you, Twilight Sparkle. The Great and Powerful Trixie will hear your touching eulogy after she has given her own."
"See ya," said Applejack as she placed her own hat back on her head and stood to walk away. The crowd began to disperse.
"No, wait! The Great and Powerful Trixie is indeed, tragically no more! She has travelled from the past to visit her own funeral!" Trixie shouted into the microphone. "Please, do not leave!"
"You must be joking," said Rarity, wearing a scowl.
Twilight took the microphone from Trixie. "I don't think she's kidding, everypony. I performed the autopsy myself."
Exchanging confused glances, ponies returned to their seats.
"I have to admit, this is a really good trick!" said Pinkie Pie with a bright smile, her eyes still red from a previous bout of crying.
"Do you really think it's wise to speak at your own funeral?" Twilight whispered. Trixie rolled her eyes and took back the microphone.
"This funeral is a complete injustice to The Great and Powerful Trixie! Why are there so few ponies present? Where are the banners? Where are the hundred-hoof high statues?" she demanded. "Surely, there will be a second, larger funeral?"
Ponies in the crowd made faces ranging from embarrassment to contempt. Fluttershy squeaked and hid her face in her hooves.
"Trixie, nopony has seen you in over twenty years," Twilight said, very gently. "Your body was found unresponsive in a Canterlot alleyway two days ago."
Trixie gasped and made tiny choking sounds. "But, but how? You must find the monster responsible for the most treasonous crime of robbing Equestria of a pony so wonderful as The Great and Powerful Trixie, and bring them to justice! Immediately!" Trixie grabbed Twilight by the shoulders and shook her violently.
"We're looking into it," Twilight said, peeling Trixie's hooves off of her. "But you appear to have died of natural causes. Simple heart failure. I'm very sorry."
Sadness briefly cloaked Trixie's face, only to be replaced by angry resolve. "Twilight, Trixie demands you turn these speakers up loud enough that everypony in Canterlot may hear what Trixie has to say."
"Oh dear Celestia no," Spike whispered to Rarity, who huddled beside him.
"But we can't turn them up louder without—" said Twilight.
"Fine! Then the Great and Powerful Trixie shall do it herself!" she announced, and jumped down off the podium into a large mud puddle between the speakers.
"Trixie, NO!" shouted Twilight, as The Great and Powerful Trixie reached for an exposed speaker wire.
"Chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk," said Trixie, her body spasming in place. Then she collapsed into the mud, dead.
"I cannot believe you are actually going through with this, sister!" said Princess Luna, a look of frustration decorating her muzzle.
"I'll only be gone for a month, Luna. I'm sure you can manage." With the patience of a true artist, Princess Celestia airbrushed the finishing touches of her cutie mark onto the life-sized figurine.
Luna huffed. "It matters not how perfect a replica it is, Celie. The ceremony shall be a waste of millions of bits, not to mention the emotional turmoil you are causing to your citizens!"
Celestia turned to her sister and gently cupped a hoof beneath her chin. "You'll be fine. My little ponies should learn to deal with loss, and it's worth a few million bits if I get to have a vacation for the first time in a millennium."
"But what of your friends, Celie? How are they expected to handle this tragedy?" asked Luna.
"It's been taken care of," said Celestia, with a soft smile. "Twilight and her friends already know, as does Cadance. My senior staff have been briefed, and they are prepared for every contingency. If dignitaries from foreign lands decide to visit, they will enjoy the ceremonies and our kingdom will grow stronger."
Luna reached out and experimentally moved one of the figurine's seamless articulated joints. "And when the public learns of this ruse, after the most expensive funeral in the history of our great nation?" said Luna. "What then, oh dear sister?"
"Luna, we've already gone over this," said Celestia, frowning. "We'll just say I came back to life. Most of them think I'm some sort of goddess. They'll buy practically anything we tell them. When I return, we'll all have a grand celebration. You'll see."
"If they believe anything we say, surely you have the authority to demand a vacation," said Luna.
"Don't you think I've tried?" asked Celestia, as she leaned with her front hooves against her sturdy doppelgänger. "Unlike you, I can't set hoof outside the castle without an escort. Most of the royal guard were hired before your return. They have been specifically and rigorously trained to prevent me from shirking my responsibilities, which was a necessary check in the time before Cadance became an alicorn."
"Will the guard not listen to reason?" asked Luna, furrowing her brow.
Princess Celestia took a deep, cleansing breath. "The guard are changing, but it takes time. It will be at least thirty years before my bonds loosen and I am tired of waiting. I am doing this now, and that is final," said Celestia, and then the gentle smile returned to her face. "For the coming month, you will get to see firsthoof just how annoying it is."
Luna sighed dejectedly. "I fear neither annoyance nor toil, but I do not look forward to eulogizing my sister, whom I love so dearly. Worse yet, I do not believe my attempts will be believable. I know you yet to be among the living, and I am not so gifted an actress as you are. This burden you are placing upon my withers pains me, Celie."
"Okay, fine. Maybe your performance won't be realistic," said Celestia, with a shrug. "No matter. You're a powerful alicorn under great stress. For royalty, any behavior short of actual crime can be justified, no matter how queer."
"Any behavior?" said Luna, the muscles at one corner of her muzzle twitching. "Perhaps. We shall see what our citizens can swallow."
"That's the spirit!" said Celestia, smiling broadly. "Have fun with it."
Thousands of ponies gathered below the stage, politely gasping and whining as everypony struggled admirably to avoid committing open treason. The sea of faces squirmed, bodies tensing and jaws gnashing as though each pony in attendance desperately needed to pee.
At the front of the crowd, the table of dignitaries showed remarkable restraint. Most of them planted one hoof or set of talons directly in their mouth and covered their eyes with the other. Only the emissary from Yakyakistan seemed completely unaffected.
In the first row of the audience, Pinkie Pie clearly fared worst. Her cheeks bulged out from holding her breath as her face turned a multifarious array of colors, while she simultaneously and repeatedly punched herself in the side of the head. Rainbow Dash sat right beside her, eyes clenched tightly and whining through her nose as though in great pain. Twilight's other friends hid their faces in their hooves and desperately gasped for breath every minute or so.
On Luna's right flank stood Princess Twilight Sparkle, blushing furiously. On her left stood Princess Cadance, hiding her face in her hoof. In front of the alicorns lay the coffin on a shining golden pedestal, from which Princess Celestia's unmistakable, royal Sun-emblazoned hindquarters emerged like a hillock of smooth ivory. Far overhead, the Equestrian flag flapped gently in the breeze. Yet nopony dared look toward it, for the shiny metal pole stretched toward the Heavens at an unseemly angle.
"...and neigh, though we may never know the full reason why my sister saw fit to shove a flagpole so far up her own royal posterior as to take her dearly beloved spirit from this world, I am certain we can all rest assured she died doing that which she loved most. And for that, we are grateful."
Pinkie collapsed onto the ground, pounding her hooves mightily against the stone flooring as a high-pitched whine gurgled in her throat.
"Lulu, why did you do this," mumbled Cadance, wincing as she bit her tongue.
Twilight Sparkle sighed. "She's going to kill you," she whispered. "Certainly, you realize this."
Luna smirked and whispered back. "Acceptable. I am prepared to fake it."
Applejack looked into the storefront window and sighed. Granny was getting so old now, it'd be foalish not to prepare. Even with that spring in her step, she could pass away any year. The mare took a deep breath and trotted inside.
A bell tinkled overhead. "Coming!" called a perky stallion's voice.
Now where have I heard that voice before, wondered Applejack?
She turned to examine one of the caskets: a fancy-looking polished walnut coffin with bedding that looked softer than anything she'd ever sat on in her life. "Like a skeleton needs a mattress," she scoffed.
"Well, some ponies only want the best for their loved ones," chided that familiar voice, now standing right beside her. Applejack turned and snorted.
"Flam!" she said, as Flam stepped back a pace.
"Applejack! So nice to see you," said Flim, emerging from the back room.
Applejack glared at the brothers. "Of all the lowdown, dishonest career choices—fleecing families in a time of grief takes some nerve, even for the two of you!"
"My word, Applejack! We're not 'fleecing' anypony," said Flam, raising a hoof. "Unless a sheep has made such a bequest, of course."
"That's right," said Flim, flanking her. "We are but humble businessponies, offering comfort to loved ones in need."
"Like wet horse apples you are," spat Applejack, and both brothers blushed. "Pardon my fancy. No, on second thought, don't."
"Now Applejack, don't judge us until you've examined the quality of our merchandise," said Flim. "Our caskets are on the expensive side, but they're worth every bit."
"See here," said Flam, opening a nearby casket. "Solid mahogany, lined with the finest silk."
Applejack turned around, and both brothers ducked. She gently bucked the side of the casket, echoing a pleasant knock.
"Huh. That there's some solid craftsponyship," she said. "Where's the catch?"
"No catch!" promised Flim, with a grin. "We can make a killing these days with the population boom."
"Our supplier does all the work. We control the shipping, and mark up prices accordingly," said Flam.
"How much?" asked Applejack.
"That one is fifty-thousand," said Flim, smiling wide.
"Well, it's like we said. Some ponies only want the best for their loved ones," said Flam, gently placing a leg around Applejack's withers.
Applejack bucked the leg off her back. "When Granny kicks the bucket someday, her corpse ain't gonna feel nothin'. I just need somethin' solid that'll decompose nice, so she can feed the orchard like she wants. We can rent a show casket for the viewin'."
"We do rentals too!" said Flim. "One-thousand for this one, and it's guaranteed to be completely cleaned between showings."
"Hmm. That's a lot of bits, but ain't bad in this market," admitted Applejack. "I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I'll get back to you."
Flam and Flim beamed with pride.
"And you said this was for... Smith, wasn't that her name?" asked Flim.
"I certainly hope your grandmother hasn't taken ill," said Flam, wearing an exaggerated pout as both brothers held their hats to their chests.
"Granny's just fine," said Applejack. "I'm only plannin' ahead. If'n we're lucky, she might even hold out another couple decades. Longevity's an Apple trait, y'know."
"Ah. Well, you are so thoughtful to plan for her," said Flam, flatly.
Flim's eyes lit up. "Oh! Wait just a moment!" he said. Dashing into the back room, he promptly returned with a wrapped present. "A gift for your grandmother," he offered, floating it over to Applejack with a respectful nod.
Applejack plucked the gift from the air and began tearing through the paper.
"Don't you want it to be a surprise for your dear granny?" Flam said, nervously.
"Nnope," said Applejack. Inside the box was an unlabeled glass jar filled with what looked like peanut butter.
"Luxury-quality peanut spread," said Flim, wearing a plastic grin. "For a mare with a sweet tooth."
Applejack unscrewed the lid, tapped her hoof into the confectionery, and licked. Her eyes narrowed and she growled like a timber wolf.
Flim and Flam backed up as Applejack stomped forward. "N-not a fan?" asked Flam.
"We have other—" began Flim.
"This spread's got hazelnuts. Granny's deathly allergic," said Applejack.
Flim gasped and held his hooves to his face. "Oh my goodness! Why, we had no idea!" he said.
"She listed her allergies when you peddled her that 'miracle tonic' last year!" snarled Applejack.
"Oops?" whimpered Flam.
Flam lit his horn, illuminating the cramped space that he and his brother now occupied.
"We'll be fine, brother. It's not like she can prove it was intentional," said Flam.
"Yes, but—you don't suppose she would leave us nailed in here forever, do you?" asked Flim.
"I doubt it," said Flam, sounding wholly uncertain.
"Either way, a customer is bound to walk in and discover us soon," reassured Flim.
"Although, the caskets are nearly soundproof," noted Flam.
"But it's a good thing they're so soft inside, isn't it!" said Flim.
Flam squirmed in place. "Oh dear. Perhaps we should have washed out the maggots from the previous rental."
Out on the abandoned showroom floor, if you listened very closely, you could almost hear the cries for help.
