The Interview of a Questionable Mare
“Ok, everything’s set up.” said a portly, male zebra as he looked over the room he rented for the evening.
The room was held within the city of Manehattan, inside one of its four star hotels. The zebra had requested one furnished with a table, a chair, and a couch, with a separate bedroom, so that the bed wouldn’t get in the way of his intentions for the room. Having gotten what he asked for, he set up the table in the center area, placing the chair on one side of it, and the couch on the other side, a small assortment of refreshments placed on top to ease the tense atmosphere that was sure to come. He had created this layout several times before, and always for the same reason.
Tonight was going to be no different than any other such encounter for the zebra, of which he had done many, but each time made him nervous. Usually, at this time, mere minutes before the confrontation, he was pacing the room, thinking about how he would start the conversation, but this time he found himself standing still as he contemplated what was to come. This was because those he invited to meet with him where always ‘pony supremacists’, stallions and mares who viewed all creatures who were not ponies as inferior. The one being invited tonight wasn’t just a typical bigoted pony though; not some unicorn with paranoia about race or earth pony who had never met a zebra first hand before. What he was about to confront was the pinnacle of the racist ideal. He was about to confront an actual Nazi.
For some time, there had been word of some mare going around Equestria, spreading the word of Nazi Regime, an orginization founded on the principles of pony supremacy, believing that all other races were inferior and should serve at the hooves of their might. This order was destroyed long ago, but some to this day still practice what they believed, and today the zebra was going to be face to face with one. It was only a matter of time before there would be a knock at the door, and he would see what would come of what he had arranged.
*Knock, knock, knock*
As if he thought it into existence, three taps came to the door. He had asked the hotel desk not to disturb him, so there was only one pony it could have been.
“The door’s open!” the zebra said as he faced the entrance, trying to remain calm while sweat formed on his brow.
A second later, the door cracked open, and a pegasus poked his head inside - one of the zebra’s pony confidants who helped him to set up these meetings, and stuck around to make sure the invited pony didn’t get violent.
“She’s here,” the pegasus said somberly.
“Let her come in,” the zebra replied, as prepared as he was ever going to be.
The pegasus gave a nod, then opened the door, letting in a pure white, blonde-maned, blue-eyed earth pony mare with a heart cutie mark bearing swastika in the center of it.
“Guten tag,” the mare said in a thick accent that only those from Germaneigh spoke with, walking into the room with no hesitation, “I vas told that somepony wanted to conduct an interview with me. I take it that vould be you?”
The zebra was a little surprised as he watched the German pony trot herself into the room, no indication that she was put off by a zebra being the one waiting for her. He always invited his guests through a second-hand source, and in a majority of his prior confrontations, they would freeze the moment they realized they had been tricked into being in the same room with a zebra, yet this mare held zero shock at his presence.
“Uh, yes. Please, come in.” said the zebra, gesturing with his hoof towards the couch, “And help yourself to any refreshments.”
“Oh, danke,” said the mare, making her way to her arranged seating space, taking a can of soda off the table.
The zebra was a bit confused at her lack of apparent reprehension, but decided it wasn’t worth dwelling on. He quickly surmised that she didn’t care he was a zebra simply due to her believing she was so superior that he posed no threat, which in a way would make the upcoming discussion much easier. Creatures were often more willing to speak when they didn’t feel intimidated.
“Thank you for coming today,” the zebra said, going to the chair across from the mare as the pegasus closed the door and stood at it to keep watch over the two equines. “ Miss…”
“Aryanne” the mare stated, taking a sip from her can.
“Right, Aryanne. I hope this wasn’t inconvenient for your schedule.” asked the zebra, trying to seem considerate.
“Not at all,” Aryanne replied, “But I have to say, zis is a first for me. Of all the ponies to schedule a meet up with me, it has never been for an interview.”
“I’m sure lots of ponies have problems speaking to you, seeing your views.” the zebra commented.
“My views?” the white mare thought for a moment, and then it hit her, “Ah! You mean my loyalty to ze fuhrer and ze advancement of Germaneigh, the greatest nation in zhe world.”
“So, it is true that you follow the ideals of pony supremacy, and act in the name of nazi regime and Neighdolf Hitler?”
“Of course,” Aryanne replied, a determined smile going across her face, “It is ze duty of all German mares and stallions to serve leader and country, and display ze might of our superior genes.”
What Aryanne had to say was disturbing, but the zebra wanted to make sure he had the right pony. Not that he had a reason not to believe that Aryanne wasn’t who she said she was, but something about this felt off. Her behavior was much different from any racist pony he had encountered prior, but that must have come from her pride towards her ideals.
“Aryanne, are you aware why you were invited here today?” Deyrl asked, trying to see if the nazi mare understood by now what was happening.
“You mean ze interview?” she replied, “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what it is for. I can’t think of anything I’ve done to make somepony want to hear what I have to say about anything.”
“Do you happen to know who I am?” the zebra asked as a follow up, thinking that Aryanne might be able to put two and two together if she recognized him, she may have some clue as to what was about to happen.
Aryanne, confused as to why the zebra would ask the last two questions, took a moment to look at the zebra intently. If there was a reason for the interview, then the zebra should have come out and said it and not put her into a guessing game. Still, she did her best to search her mind for a face that matched, a zebra that worked for news media, or perhaps just one she had spoken to in the past in offhanded conversation. Nothing came to mind, so she was stumped as to who he was, but now becoming a bit uneasy by this odd question.
“No, I don’t know how you are,” Aryanne said, “Is there a reason I should?”
“Then let me be transparent,” the zebra said, “My name is Daryl Hayvis. I’m what you might call a zebra activist, though I’m not the kind who goes out in front of Canterlot Castle with picket signs or protests. My methods are more direct. I bring in ponies who outwardly express their hatred for striped folks like myself, speak to them one on one in order to get the reason for their hatred, and try to convince them away from it. Most of the ponies I do this with are members of the Neigh Neigh Neigh, and in some cases I’ve been able to convince a few enough that they quit the organization altogether.”
Aryanne, in a gesture that surprised both the stallions in the room, didn’t express fear or disgust at this revolation, but instead a large display of relief, her body untensing and while she released a bit of held breath from her lungs.
“Oh good,” she said, a large portion of her accent suddenly slipping away as she spoke, “For a minute I thought you were with the IRS, and I was being audited. My mind was racing to think if I forgot to do my taxes this year.”
That was not the response that Daryl expected from the mare, not at all. He expected mocking, or distaste, or anger for him turning ponies against the ideals of pony supremacy. Not that she’d be relieved to find out he wasn’t a tax collector.
“So you do work for the zebra community by talking to racist ponies and reasoning with them that zebras aren’t inferior creatures?” Aryanne continued, “That’s pretty impressive. Now I wish I did know about you before, cause it sounds like what you do is really interesting.”
“Umm… Excuse me?” Daryl said, once more not understanding the nazi mare’s approach to this conversation.
“I’m just saying that it’s good that somepony is out there setting things straight,” Aryanne added, “Too many young ponies are taught to hate things that they don’t know or understand these days, and it’s amazing that you took it upon yourself to speak to these ponies, especially since I’d assume that you’re putting yourself at risk to do so.”
Aryanne’s praise of his actions didn’t come off as sarcasm or disingenuous, and felt very sincere as she casually took a bag of chips off the table. If this was a tactic of hers to throw the zebra off guard, it was working, because this was a response that Daryl never anticipated from a racist pony.
“But all that aside,” Aryanne went on to say, “If that’s what you do, why did you ask me.. to.. meet…” Aryanne froze mid opening her chip bag, a recognition coming to her as if a ton of bricks had fallen from Cloudsdale, right on top of her, “Oh dear…”
“Is something wrong?” Daryl asked, wondering if she finally understood the purpose of the meeting, but having himself become lost as to where this conversation was heading.
Aryanne set the bag of chips aside, and groaned as she covered her face with her front hooves. “You think I’m a literal Nazi, don’t you?”
“Umm… well yes,” Daryl replied, “Didn’t you just say you were?”
“Well… yes,” Aryanne replied, “But I thought you wanted a conversation with Aryanne, not me.”
“Wait a second, aren’t you Aryanne?” Daryl asked, bewildered beyond limit.
“Yes, I am.” the white mare answered, “Or at least, she is the character I play.”
“A… ‘character’?” the zebra replied, trying to piece together what he was hearing, “Are you saying… you’re an actress.”
“Actress, cosplayer, fetish model, there are a few titles for what I do.”
The whole room went silent for a moment, both sides trying to make sense of the situation, and slowly recomposing themselves. “So you aren’t actually a German mare who believes in pony supremacy?” Daryl asked, wanting to get his facts straight.
“I’m of German descent,” Aryanne stated, “My grandfather moved his family to Equestria prior to the Nazi party taking over Germaneigh, and beginning World War 2, or at least that is what I’ve been told. And no, I don’t believe that ponies are inherently better than any other species.”
“You don’t believe in a master race?” Daryl said, wanting to make sure of the mare’s stance on the subject.
“Well, yeah, I believe in that.” Aryanne replied, “I mean among ponies that is.”
“Could you clarify?” Daryl asked, not understanding what the earth mare was getting at.
“Well, you see them.” Aryanne explained, “Alicorns are the pinnacle of what it is to be a pony, with the best attributes of earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns put into one pony. They’re also the pinnacle of ponykind’s moral values, as it is said that only ponies who perform extraordinary feats of Friendship become alicorns. On that same note though, we also see that alicorns aren’t really perfect creatures. How many times did an alicorn get defeated by a threat to Equestria, only to have a normal pony come in and fix everything? Just because somepony is blessed with better genes doesn’t make them automatically better than any other creature, be they zebra, changelings, other ponies, or anything else.”
“Hmm…” Daryl hummed aloud. He couldn’t find a legitimate argument in how she had phrased that, as when it came strictly to ponies, Alicorns were heralded to be the best of their breed, while likewise proving that they were as fallible as any other pony beneath their status.
The way she put it, it didn’t really seem like she believe in pony supremacy, nor did she truly believe in what the Nazis would have considered a master race. Her statement also showed something else, and that was that she didn’t understand what the term ‘master race’ entailed to those who actually followed the nazi ideal, as a true nazi would have noted on how inferior races were supposed to be subservient to their betters. On top of that, alicorns weren’t really race by any definition of the term. Biologically, there were only five of them, all of them female, and only one of them was a born alicorn. They also weren’t a racialized ethnic or cultural minority, but he didn’t expect Aryanne to use the term in its sociological meaning anyway. Aryanne’s viewpoint of the subject was watered down, like the base explanation one would get if they asked what the Nazis were all about.
“I’m sorry,” Aryanne said, making a motion to leave her seat and head for the door, “I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time.”
“Wait!” Daryl said before the mare could leave her seat, becoming very intrigued with the mare in front of him. “Before you go, would you mind if we continued this interview? I’m kinda baffled as to why a pony would want to pretend to be a Nazi.”
“Ummm… Ok, I did open up a bit of my schedule for this meeting, so I have nothing better to do.” Aryanne slipped back into her spot on the couch. “But there isn’t much about me that’s all that interesting.”
“Thank you,” Daryl said, while wondering where exactly to start his questions. He was prepared to ask a pony supremacist their ideals and had things planned for counterpoints to possible answers he believed he might receive, but the zebra had not intended to interview a pony that was a self proclaimed actress. “How about we start with some basic questions. Do you mind telling me your real name?”
“I’d rather not.” the white mare replied, “My real name is kinda embarrassing. Besides, ‘Aryanne’ is the name I would rather be known by in the public.”
“If that’s what you want, ‘Aryanne’ it is.” Daryl said in compliance, “So what about your cutie mark? If you’re not a Nazi, why does it look like that?”
“You mean the swastika?” asked Aryanne, “It’s not real. Just a bit of makeup on my flank.”
The pure white mare put a hoof to her mouth, gave it a good lick, then rubbed it against her cutie mark. As she had said, the mark was proven to not be real as the swastika and the pink coloration of the heart it was within lifted off to reveal a deep purple underneath.
“This isn’t even my real eye color,” Aryanne said, putting her other hoof to her eye to remove a colored contact lens she was wearing, revealing that her irises were actually green underneath the blue, before placing the lens back into her eye.
“So you’re not a blonde or a white mare either?” Daryl asked, wondering how deep the disguise went.
“No, that’s real.” Aryanne said, “It’s actually part of the reason I took up the Aryanne persona.”
“Now there’s something to ask.” said Daryl, getting an idea where to direct this conversation, “What made you take up acting like a Nazi? How did you become ‘Aryanne’?”
“Well, I wasn’t always the ‘actress’ I am today.” Aryanne said, reminiscing on how her career started, “When I was younger, I was really into war reenactments. You know, those play fights where they show onlookers what happened in battles during big wars. Well, I managed to get in one once.”
“One for World War II, I take it,” Daryl said, seeing that as the only logical conclusion.
Aryanne nodded her head, “I was really excited, even thought out a character I wanted to play as an Equestrian soldier named ‘Stars and Stripes’. I was downright giddy when standing in line to get my role assignment. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that everypony who was playing an extra was going to be assigned roles randomly, and when I got to the front of the line, I was handed a German soldier’s outfit instead of one for the Equestrian Army.”
“And that’s when you were assigned that role, you created the Aryanne persona?” Daryl asked?
“The first version of it, yes.” Aryanne stated, “I was kinda disappointed that I couldn’t do what I had originally planned, but I was determined to do my best to play the role given, and reminded myself that somepony did have to play the bad guys. So a few days later, I donned my uniform, and got inside a makeshift pillbox behind a prop gun turret.”
“What was the battle you were reenacting?” Daryl asked, legitimately curious.
“You ever watched ‘Saving Private Reigns’?” Aryanne asked back, “If you did, it was the big battle at the start of the movie. Normanedy, D-day. It was an impressive reenactment, if a bit low-budget: Equestrian soldiers storming the beach we made out of a small lake, being picked off by turret fire by the German soldiers advantageously stationed above. We were firing paint rounds at one another, and if you got hit, it was your job to roll over and play dead, though for a bit of consistency, the Equestrian Soldiers were allowed to ‘reset’ themselves, and after a set time they gained immunity so they could take the beach. Still, I was able to rack up my fair share of kills that battle, before taking a sniper round to the shoulder.”
“Sounds thrilling,” Daryl said, believing any war fanatic would relish the idea of being able to play-act a battle of that magnitude, pretending they were present at the actual skirmish as bullets whizzed by their head.
“It was, very much so,” Aryanne confirmed, “And after it was done, the others praised me for my performance. It made me all the more willing to play the role of the dutiful soldier from Germaneigh next time. Good thing too, as after a few more reenactments, I kinda got typecasted. Not only that, but I got promoted. I went from nameless trooper in the battle of Normanedy, to German Officer at the Battle of Stalliongrad. I even got a proper uniform that would have been worn by a mare of that rank. It was amazing, so amazing that just like I had intended for my Equestrian role, I created a character for my later performances, even if it was only for my own amusement. When I put that on that uniform I was no longer myself, but Aryanne, Sixth Army of the Wehrmacht, IV. Army Corps. Later on, I added the cutie mark makeup and contacts to complete my look, and worked on making my accent thicker to complete the persona.”
“So that explains how ‘Aryanne’ came to be,” Daryl said, now understanding how such a character could be created in the first place, “But you’re a fairly notable pony. Lots of ponies seem to know who you are, and particularly for that persona. Could you explain to me how that came to be?”
“Sure,” Aryanne said, in between taking a few potato chips and stuffing them into her mouth.”As you might’ve assumed, it’s not something that just ‘happened’ one day. My popularity came about through prolonged exposure all around the pony community. You see, some people would see my performances in the war reenactments, and afterwards would come to see me after the show was finished. Now I was never the only one, but I did get my fair share of people wanting me to sign something for them, or to get a picture with me, or just of me. It became fairly routine, and one day a ponies who took a photo with me suggested I go to an upcoming war memorial convention.”
“You mean one of those gatherings where ponies get together and dress up in costumes?” Daryl asked, having heard of them, but never having gone to one himself.
“Yeah, and I, of course, went as Aryanne. I figured it was what that fan was expecting, and I was pretty used to the character at that point.” Aryanne said, recounting her time at the convention, “When I got there, I was excited to see all the war memorabilia and ponies walking about in uniforms from different branches of military from all sorts of countries. Some of my favorite were the flyer outfits from the Bitish Special Pegasus Forces. ‘Who Dares, Wins’.”
“And no one was offended that you came dressed as a Nazi officer?” Daryl asked.
“Of course not,” Aryanne assured, “No one there thought that I was there to support the Nazis. If anything, they just assumed I picked a costume that related to what they assumed was my nationality. I wasn’t even the only one in SS Uniform either, and I was able to purchase some improvements for my costume there too. I still have the replica Iron Cross medal I bought from there.”
“But surely one convention can’t account for the notoriety you’ve gotten for yourself.”
“No, but it was what started it all. You see, one of the convention’s organizers was so impressed with my costume and enthusiasm for the event, as well as the attention I was getting from the other ponies attending, that they approached me and offered a paid position at another one being held a few months later. I was more than happy to take up the offer, and as he expected, I was a hit there too. The creatures attending flocked to see what was the closest thing to an authentic Nazi officer they would ever see. They’d have me do the salute, or say something in German. This lead to even more invites, and even a few times that I was given a seat at one of their panels, where every pony present answered questions in character. Aryanne was always one of the ones who got the most questions, because creatures got a laugh hearing the exaggerated opinions I gave on what a Nazi officer would think on any given topic.”
“So it was a joke to them?” Daryl questioned.
“Very much so,” the earth mare replied, “And rightfully so, because ‘Aryanne’ was never supposed to be taken seriously. I was just playing my part, and usually to comedic effect, trying to be entertaining in my role as ‘the bad guy’. To pretty much everypony, I was no more supporting Nazi than somepony who plays Hitler in a movie. Anyways, going to these conventions eventually lead to Aryanne being introduced to another culture I had never considered being a part of before then.”
“That being?”
“Well, one day I was asked to attend another convention, but this time for foriegn cartoons.” Aryanne’s statement brought up odd looks from both Daryl and his pegasus associate. “Believe me, I was just as confused as you at first. At places occupied by creatures that were fascinated with the history of war, Aryanne fit right in. I voiced my concerns, but the pony assured me that nopony would think it was weird I came dressed uniform.”
“And?”
“And they were right. When I went there, nopony looked at my costume and saw it as offensive. In fact, I was complimented several times for being so accurate, just like at the war conventions. Thing was, practically every creature there wore some sort of strange outfit from different cultures across the world. I learned very quickly that the ponies thought that I was just cosplaying as a character from one cartoon or another, as it seemed that Nazis were the subject of a whole bunch of them. After I explained several times that I had never actually seen any of the shows they mentioned, I got sat down to watch a few. The first one I ever saw of that nature was about an immortal bat pony who had to fight against remnants of the Nazi regime. I really liked it, and after asking to see a few more shows, I came to see this as another thing that interested me. Thus, I started attending these conventions as well, often as an invited guest since I because so well known, and very often being paid for my appearances. They’d even request that I come in some other outfits, but still as Aryanne.”
“What kind of outfits?”
“Ones that showed off my mare-ish features. As good as I look in uniform, ponies wanted to see me in dresses from their favorite shows. I’ve been in things ranging from the German barmaid outfits, to school filly uniforms, to costumes from their favorite cartoon characters. Once I went out as a cyborg version of Aryanne, which was a reference to one of the more popular cartoons.”
“So that’s how you became famous as Equestria’s most notable Nazi pony.” Daryl stated, having gotten what he believed was the whole story, “Amazing that your character leaked so far into public knowledge with you just attending conventions like that.”
“Well, as you might expect, going to these kinds of places gets you a lot of attention, and some of the creatures who go to these places end up being really important. I think I’ve even seen one of the Elements of Harmony attend a Daring Doo convention I went to once.” Aryanne smiled, remembering how a rainbow colored mare had to contain a squeal as she passed by her booth. “And attendees tend to remember ponies who stick out in the crowd. Thing was, I since I often got paid for my appearances to these places, I never turned one down, and thus I became a constant presence in the minds of the convention goers, even more so when… Actually, you might not want to know about that.”
“No, please, go on,” Daryl insisted, wanting to know everything about the mare’s activities as Aryanne.
“Well, after a while,” the mare said with slight hesitation, “Ponies who liked to take pictures started asking me if I would attend some private photoshoots. They were willing to pay for me to pose in sets they created, and act as a private model for a scrapbook they were making. Or course, the sets often had a nazi theme to them, like one that was supposed to be Neighdolf’s office for example, and they’d have me pose provocatively. I had no problem doing it, as I’ve never been bashful about such stuff, and it went off without a hitch. Then…”
Aryanne pause for a little longer, and Daryl could see the game she was playing, “Please Miss Aryanne, don’t make me beg.”
Aryanne gave a small chuckle, “Ok, ok, But you were warned. You see, after a few shoots one of the ponies asked me if I’d do something more revealing, something… I suppose ‘lewd’ is the right word.”
“A stallion ask you to do something like that?”
“A mare actually,” Aryanne corrected, “She said that if I was willing to expose myself, she’d make it worth my while. Luckily for her, I have never been that big a prude, and the number of bits she was offering was enough for me to show a little skin. I got undressed, she snapped her shots, and I walked out with my next month’s rent and then some. It was pretty great, and then word got out that I was willing to pose nude.”
“Oh boy, I’m sure that got you really popular,” Daryl said, unable to contain himself as he gave a few snickers.
“You bet,” Aryanne answered, “Suddenly I was getting all sorts of request to cosplay as Aryanne in more risque poses, sometimes nude and sometimes just posing provocatively like before. Not everypony requested that though, and some just wanted a picture of their favorite Nazi pony. However, as time went on the requests got more and more extreme, but as long at the client, as they had become at this point, was willing to pay extra I didn’t mind. That’s how I got into BDSM professionally.”
“You let them take images of you tied up?”
“It’s not something I personally find appealing, but some ponies like the idea of dominating Aryanne, and allowing them to do so has been very lucrative, and of course one thing led to another until I finally reached the point that I’ve been ask to perform in pornographic material, and… I’ve accepted it several times. Aryanne has been depicted in quite a few adult photos, appealing to many different fetishes. I’ve even done raceplay before, since some ponies thought it would fit the theme for the character.”
“Raceplay?” Daryl questioned, not familiar with the term.
“That when the subject of a pornographic material is racial dominance. Believe it or not, some ponies are turned on by a fantasy of being at the mercy of a mare dressed in an SS uniform, even some Haybrew stallions, strangely enough. On the other hand, some like having Aryanne ‘put in her place’, like when I’ve posed in images where zebra are taking advantage of me. Actually, when I first saw you, I thought you were going to ask if you could take a picture of me in something of that nature.”
“Wait a minute, could you repeat that?” Daryl asked, surprised to learn that some ponies, zebra, and supposedly other creatures, found the idea of racism sexy.
“It’s really not that strange,” Aryanne said, “Some ponies just enjoy a little dark fantasy. I’ve heard before that a large portions of mares find the fantasy of being raped sexually appealing, and plenty of ponies enjoy adding pain to sex because of the thrill it brings. There is very little in the world that can't be turned into a fetish, so I’ve learned, but I’ve also learned that most creatures don’t often take what they’d do in the bedroom outside of it. Those zebra who wanted pictures of Aryanne being humiliated, for example, were very respectful to me both before and after the shoot.”
“I see, I suppose that makes sense. Do you accept requests from anypony who asks you to come to a convention, or pose for a picture?” Daryl asked, having not heard the mare say that she rejected any of her clients thus far.
“I do have a policy to accept any request, but depending on what they have me do, it can become rather costly.”
“Then,” Daryl said with a pause, knowing this next question would be touchy, “Have you ever been approached by actual racists?”
Aryanne gave a small shake of her head, not to say that she hadn’t, but as if the question had physically impacted her. “There have been a few times I’ve encountered what some might call ‘Neo-Nazis’. They would work their way to me somehow, ask for a photo, for me to do my salute, or something else related to my character, and then spout off some nonsense about their ideals. When that happens, I try to get away from them as soon as I can, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that those kinds of ponies have tried to use me to endorse their offensive beliefs about other creatures.”
“This actually does beg a question though, an important one actually.” asked the zebra, “How do you feel when ponies like that use you as a tool to spread racism?”
“Well… it never feels good,” Aryanne admitted, “Because it’s certainly something that I’m against. Some ponies, when they look at Aryanne, see her… see me, and think that just cause I cosplay as a Nazi that I’m supporting any bad thought they have. They don’t take a minute to learn anything about me, about what I stand for, or the things I’ve done as this character. They just project their own ideas on me, without even asking me if that’s how I truly feel. Luckily, I have lots of fans who do know me, have seen how I’ve used Aryanne, and will often tell off anyone who thinks that I am doing this to support fascism.”
“Have you ever had problems with ponies who believed you were doing this in poor taste?” Daryl asked, thinking that had to have happened at least once, “Or to put it in other words, do you think that doing these things; acting like a Nazi, walking around in public places in your uniform, posing in photographs that seem to endorse racism… Do you not think that creatures will be offended seeing you do this stuff?”
“Well, of course,” Aryanne said, “I’ve had complaints in the past from a few ponies about my Aryanne persona. Some ponies don’t get the joke, or some ponies don’t like the joke, even if lots of other ponies do. Those ponies have even tried to have me removed from places that have accepted me for years, with varying success. The thing I’ve learned, though, is that some ponies will always try to find a reason to complain about something, and no matter what you do it will never please them. If I did what they wanted, retired the Aryanne persona, stopped going places where creatures appreciate my gag character, just because it upsets somepony to see me, then all that would do is fuel their resolve on the next pony that does something that offends them, and trust me, there will be a next thing, and then a next thing after that.”
“But, and pardon me asking, but wouldn’t it be a good thing to get rid of everything that could be offensive?”
“No,” Aryanne said bluntly, “Because if you look at it that way, then you’d have to get rid of everything, as there is nothing in this world that somepony couldn’t find offensive for some reason or another. Besides, there was a group of ponies that existed a while back who tried to get rid of everything that offended them, and that group was called ‘The Nazis’. We can both agree that they had the wrong idea, and when it comes down to it ponies need to have things in their lives that challenge their point of view, even if it offends them. Especially if it offends them. It’s the only way we can grow as individuals, and a pony who tries to shove what they don’t like into a box where they can’t see it will never learn from it, and eventually you tend to forget about it, and I think it would be the worst thing if ponies eventually forgot the atrocities the Nazis did. Aryanne exists not as a means to promote the Nazis, but as a means to remind ponies that they existed, and to openly mock what they stood for.”
“And what about the ponies who only see you as a Nazi, and hate you for it?” Daryl asked, knowing that if he could make the mistake, then anypony else could too.
“Sir, I’m a bisexual mare who sells her body to any creature, from alicorn to zebra, enjoys cultures that were reviled by the regime, and takes every opertunity to poke fun the things they supported. If anything, I would be executed for treason if the Nazis still existed.” Aryanne took a deep breath, and sighed, “As for the hate, people hate things for the stupidest reasons, sometimes for no reason, and will often try to destroy it before they even try to understand the true meaning of it. The words that come to mind with that behavior are ‘bigotry’ and ‘ignorance’, and I think we can both agree that those two things are the cornerstone of both fascism and racism.”
“I suppose so,” Daryl agreed.
“And really, how can these ponies hate me? They clearly don’t even know me.”
The zebra’s eyes widened a little at those words, not expecting something so familiar to come from the mare’s mouth. “Are you sure you’ve never seen one of my seminars before?”
“I’m sorry, but no.” Aryanne replied, “LIke I said before, I’ve never heard of you. Did I say something odd?”
“No,” Daryl replied, “Nothing at all.”
Daryl had no more questions to ask. He had learned what ‘Aryanne’ was, and was satisfied with the answers the mare that played her had given.
“Thank you for coming,” the zebra said, escorting the pure white mare to the door, “And I’m sorry I made you come all this way only to be told I this wasn’t for a job offer. Here, let me at least pay for your cab.”
Daryl tried to hand the earth mare some bits, but she lifted a hoof and shook her head. “Please, there’s no need for that. I make enough bits to not care about the cost of a cab ride, and it was fun talking out of character for once.”
“And it was fun listening,” Daryl said, “Shame all the racists I talk to aren’t just acting like yourself.”
“Well unfortunately Equestria still has those who would rather look at all the things that make us different than notice the things that make us the same,” Aryanne commented, “But I believe that someday we’ll reach a point where we won’t need zebra like yourself to convince ponies not to be racist.”
“That would be one hobby I’d be happy to lose.” Daryl replied, the two having a small laugh over it.
Aryanne turned to the door, and Daryl’s pegasus associate opened it for her. Before she could leave though, the mare turned back to say “Auf Wiedersehen”, then left without another word. Daryl didn’t know what it meant, but even without fully understanding, he knew it wasn’t something he should be offended by.