The Working World

"Do you need any help around the farm?" Sunset asked Applejack.

"I'm fine Sunset," Applejack said with a forced smile. Sunset and Applejack sat the latter's bedroom doing homework together. The two were working on trigonometry homework when Sunset suddenly offered, or more specifically begged, to do chores for Applejack and help out on the farm.

"I could clean your gutters, mow your lawn-,"

"Sunset," Applejack said with a frustrated frown, "Big Mac and Apple Bloom already do those things! You don't have to-" Sunset looked downcast. "Sunset, what's wrong?" Sunset became even more morose. "Sunset, what's-,"

"My community service ended last week," Sunset recounted with despair, much to Applejack's confusion.

"So?"

"Now that my weekends are free, I wanted to spend more time with Twinkle and his teammates." Sunset's expression became more downcast. "But...Twinkle and his friends are doing extra training, which means they don't have time for me this month, which means my schedule is clear, which means I got nothing to do, and no where to go."

"Go join a club," Applejack said. Sunset's frown became even more bitter.

"Every time I try to join a club," Sunset said with frustration, "they all get up and leave."

"It can't be that bad," Applejack said with a reassuring smile. Sunset looked at her knees.

Sunset was excited. She was going to indulge in a long forgotten pastime of hers: sword fighting. She had practiced sword fighting back in Equestria, and she was eager to pick up the next best thing.

Fencing.

She walked to the fencing club, sabre at the hand, her white uniform pristine and new, and her face covered in the black mask. With an optimistic smile, she entered the fencing club at room 137. Her optimism faded as everyone in the room stopped talking and turned to look at her with apprehension.

"Sunset," Cloud Kicker, the head of the fencing club, said skittishly, "what are you-,"

"Look, I know what I did to that poor girl was terrible," Sunset said in desperation, "and none of you want to see me. But I just want a chance to prove myself. I'm just asking for one day to prove I'm not that horrible person anymore. I'd love fencing and I feel I'd have a lot to contribute. Just give me one day to prove I'm in a better place." The group chatted among themselves in a huddle, the conversation too unintelligible for Sunset to hear. When the huddle ended, Cloud Kicker approached Sunset with a warm smile.

"OK Sunset," Cloud said, "We'll give you a chance."

"Really?" Sunset said. Cloud held up a cardboard box

"Just take that box of masks up to room 302," the blond girl said, "and we'll be good." The other members also gave her an odd smile.

"That's it?"

"That's it," one other member with red hair uttered.

"Alright," Sunset said carrying the box underneath her armpit, "I'll see you guys later."

"Sure," one guy said with a strained smile.

Sunset went to the third floor, dropped off the box, and came back to the room after a few minutes.

"So," Sunset said happily as she came through the door, "who's up for some-," Sunset paused. The entire room was darkened and empty.

"Oh Sunset," Applejack uttered sympathetically, putting a warm hand on Sunset's shoulder.

"And then I tried to give those freshman a tour," Sunset said, almost on the verge of tears ,"and I hoped that I could make a good impression there...but,".

"And this is the music room, which you can use to practice in, as long as you ask for permission in advance," Sunset said with a professional smile to the assembled freshmen who were following her around. "Any questions?" Sunset tried to hide her excitement. This was her first day as the school's tour guide. The perfect chance to meet new people before they could learn about her bad reputation.

"Yeah," one prospective freshman said, "it is true you put a machine gun in a girl's purse because you wanted to buy a discount designer bag?" Sunset forced a patient smile to her face.

"No," Sunset said, forcing the kindness through gritted teeth, "that's not what happened."

For a couple of weeks, Sunset had been the object of public ridicule after the "revelation" that she got someone sent to juvie because she wanted to become a prom queen, as far as the public knew. Her infamy was so great that Laugh Out Loud, a popular sketch comedy show on channel four, portrayed her as some vapid bimbo who planted machine guns on people out of materialistic jealousy. The sketch was so popular, some people still believed that she was guilty of that.

She was frustrated. Not at the derision. She deserved that for what she had done to Muharib. What angered her was being portrayed in the media as some stereotypical teenaged floozy who maxed out her credit cards and threw hissy fits over not getting the right clothing. It was beyond insulting to her intelligence.

But she had to put up with it. The truth, that she was some magical being who brainwashed minors and blew up the school, would lead to her getting locked up as a terrorist. Or worse, being dissected in some secret government lab.

"No," said one other girl, holding up her smartphone, "she planted a bloody knife on someone because she wanted to be a prom queen." Sunset glanced at the story in the Canterlot Post-Gazzette and frowned. The writer in that newspaper had been the one to promote that demeaning narrative of her. It enraged her so much.

Sunset realized her jealous rage was becoming visible, if the fearful looks of the freshmen were any indication. The one at the head of the tour, a tall girl with long blond hair and tan skin, was taken aback by it.

"Thanks for the tour," the tall blond uttered with a nervous smile, "but I think we can...finish it ourselves."

"Look," Sunset said, trying to hide the desperation in her voice, "I know what you of think of me, but I'm not that girl-,"

"No this isn't about you." The girl argued unconvincingly, her eyes darting back and forth. "We've just got-,"

"Things," another girl chimed in with a nervous smile.

"Yeah things," the tall blond girl parroted.

"I'm not gonna frame you," Sunset pleaded as the group began walking away from her. "I'm in a much better place."

"Have a good day," another boy said like he was talking to a violent mental patient. The group stormed away from her like she was going to attack them. Sunset leaned against the locker, fell to the floor, and let her face fall into her hand.

Sunset felt her eyes becoming increasingly wet.

"It feels like my reputation is even worse than it was when my first suspension ended," Sunset said with some despair. "Sure no one's beating me up, but almost everyone's avoiding me even more now." Sunset clenched her fists. "If it wasn't for little bastard Quick-,"

"Don't bring him up," Applejack said forcefully, nervously rubbing her somewhat scarred cheek. Sunset felt deep pity for Applejack, remembering that the farm girl still hadn't fully recovered from Quick's attack. The stammering creep scarred Applejack in more ways that one, and left a deep scar on Sunset's reputation that also hadn't fully recovered.

Sunset could forgive Quick for attacking her, and getting a second round of community service, but she would never forgive him for damaging her image even more, for hurting Applejack, and for attacking Principal Luna. All that made Quick the subject of Sunset's revenge fantasies.

However, her hand was stayed by Twinkle and Rainbow, who still wanted to be friends with the dwarf. Which she could respect. It was their right. But that didn't fully get rid of her hatred for the pale shrimp. Sunset could only take comfort in the fact that he was doing community service and was also a pariah, outside of his teammates and Rainbow.

"Sunset you still got us," Applejack said sympathetically. "Why don't you join their-

"I'm too much of a social liability," Sunset lamented. "I can't latch on to them and join their clubs."

"Well you sure as heck can't latch on to me," Applejack said with stern voice. "I didn't give you a chance just so you could use me to hide from the world. You have to put yourself out there, sugar cube."

"But where? A lot of people still remember me as the horrible brat who got someone sent to juvie for a stupid reason."

"Maybe you can try to find a job outside school," Applejack offered. "The world isn't just Canterlot High, you know."

"Who's gonna hire me?" Sunset said with some frustration. "Again, everyone knows-,"

"There's a friend of my Granny's who can help ya," Applejack offered.

"Really?" Sunset said, a touch of optimism in your voice. "Who?"

"Ms. Shimmer," Joan Search said with a warm smile after looking at her computer for a few moments. Joan was a bespectacled woman who was almost retirement age. She had a stout build, pink skin, purple curly hair, and green eyes. She wore a tacky orange sweater that looked bigger than the planet. Not that Sunset would utter that out loud. "I believe that I can find you a job."

"Really?" Sunset said. The amber-skinned former unicorn arrived at Trouble Teen Services, a non-profit that claimed to help juvenile delinquents build a future. She met with the rotund woman in a small office near the school, somewhat skeptical that she could find any kind of work.

"Ms. Smith vouched for you," the woman said encouragingly, "anyone who the Smith family vouches for is not only a good person in my book, but has a good reference."

"Really?"

"The Apple Family are very prominent in the area," the woman said with a sly smile, "even though they don't appear to be. Their word is pretty mighty, because they're both honest and smart enough to catch snakes."

"Yeah," Sunset said with a small grin, "I agree with you on that."

"And I have connections within the business community in Canterlot. I've always set them up with kids who want to work hard for a second chance. They'll believe me when I say you're not the person you used to be."

"But I got someone framed," Sunset lamented, "on top of everything-,"

"Oh please," Alicia said with a roll of her eyes. "I helped a girl who was a pyromaniac make something of herself."

"Really?" Sunset said. "What does she do now?"

"Firewoman."

"What?!" Sunset began only for Joan to start laughing. "I'm kidding," the woman said with a sly smile, "she's a masseuse." Joan typed something into a keyboard. "I have some positions here for you. Menial jobs, but that's just fine for someone your age, and all you have to do is walk in." Joan printed up a list and handed it to Sunset.

Sunset looked at the list. It showed the jobs and the hours available. One position in the middle suited her, meeting both her skill set and hours.

"I'll take this one," Sunset said, pointing to it with a hopeful smile.

Sunset walked to the food court at the mall with trepidation. She was nervous. This would be her first real job, outside the labor she did for the Apple Family and her two rounds of community service. The interview had been professional, and the manager had been surprisingly accepting of her, but she was still afraid.

Afraid she'd screw up, afraid she'd be unable to handle the work, afraid no one would eat where she would work. But then she remembered Applejack's kind and stern words, urging her not to give up. She looked up and saw the place.

A Taste of Neighpon it was called. The owner wanted to create traditional Neighponese culture in the middle of Canterlot Mall. The exterior had oriental aesthetics. A wooden arch thing covered much of the entrance. Below the arch was a blue curtain that stood in place of actual doors. Above it was a silly illustration: a puffer fish lying contentedly on a bowl of rice. Pushing away her anxieties, Sunset marched through the curtain, ready to begin her first day of work.

Labor Pains

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"You come in 5PM on Monday through Thursday," the Neighponese manager, Mr. Ranchitaimu [1], said in a thick accent. He was a stout and short man with a pink kimono on his body, purple slacks, and traditional sandals on his feet. His skin was green, his hair was dark and tied into a topknot haircut, and his eyes were the color of cherry blossoms. He and Sunset sat at a table near the entrance, where the man was patiently explaining to Sunset the rules she had to follow. "And you come in Saturday at 10 AM, or I dock you."

"OK."

"You come in with uniform ironed and clean," the man paused to hand her the uniform in a plastic bag. It was a blue kimono and similar sandals "or I dock you."

"OK."

"You wash your hands and don't touch food or I dock you."

"OK."

"You must always polite to customers," the man said, "or...I dock you."

"OK."

"The tables and chairs must always be straight or..." the man paused, seemingly for dramatic effect.

"You dock me?"

"No, no," the man said with a wry grin, "I fire you!" His expression became stern again.

"Oh," Sunset lamented.

"Zecora-san," the man shouted. A girl wearing a similar blue kimono approached him. Based off the stripes on her body, grey skin, and checkered hair, this girl (who was about Sunset's age) was of Zebrican descent. She had blue eyes, hair styled into a mohawk, and was a head taller than Sunset. She wore golden rings around her neck, a golden bracelet, and a large golden earing on the right ear. The girl had a face that both solemn and dignified. She approached Mr. Ranchitaimu and gave him a respectful bow.

"Bucho-san[2]," the teenager said as she stood straight, "how may I assist? And who is this young miss?" Sunset was impressed with how Zecora seemed to adopt Neighponese honorifics and customs.

"This is Sunset," the stern man said uttered, "your new co-worker. You will instruct her as to the daily duties." The girl gave him a solemn nod.

"Sunset-san," the man said, "Zecora will teach you your duties. You will follow her words, or you will be docked."

"Yes sir," Sunset said, awkwardly getting into a bow herself before following the Zebrican teenager into the kitchen.

"So, ever been to Canterlot High?" Sunset asked the Zebrican girl in an attempt to break the ice.

"I have not, I go to school in South Canterlot," Zecora said in a calm but somewhat chilly voice without even looking at Sunset. Sunset remembered hearing that South Canterlot was the poor part of the town, but decided not to bring it up.

"So what's that like?" Sunset said, trying again to be friendly, only to be ignored by the Zebrican girl. This girl must've heard about Sunset's duplicitous past. Sunset sighed, frustrated that she lost another chance to make a new first impression. Sunset dropped the small talk and resolved to accept her training. Zecora took her to a massive commerical scale dishwasher that was being set up by some teenaged boy who wasn't wearing the traditional uniform. Instead, he wore jeans, red shoes, and a mauve polo shirt. He had purple skin, red hair, and a wispy mustache.

"Hey Z," the boy said with a flamboyant voice, "who's-," he paused as he saw Sunset approach him. "It's the Shimmer girl." Sunset frowned, expecting more condemnation to be thrown at her face. "Welcome to A Taste of Neighpon," the guy said in an unusually friendly tone. "Name's Steven Magnet."

Sunset was confused by the guy's kindness, but returned the greeting with a smile of her own. "Nice to meet you."

"To work here like you wish," Zecora began, "you must wash the dish."

"Wanna help me load up the dishwasher?" Steven asked Sunset.

"Sure." Zecora wandered off to care of some business while Sunset and Stephen loaded up the dishwasher.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Sunset asked once the dishes were almost done. Stephen seemed offended by the question.

"Honey, why are you questioning kindness?" Stephen responded.

"Well," Sunset said, "you probably heard about...what I did to someone."

"Honey," the purple-skinned boy said with a wave of his hand, "that was a long time ago. My mother taught me that holding onto a grudge is like wearing last season's clothing: a burden you shouldn't be forced to carry." Sunset snickered, thinking that was the kind of thing Rarity said.

"And Zecora doesn't like me," Sunset said.

"Z's always a grumpy gus," Stephen said with a reassuring grin, "that's nothing new. Anyways, I don't hold anything against you." With a smile, the two started loading up the dishwater. Zecora returned just as the dishwasher was loaded up and turned on.

"The dishes are done at last," Zecora said with a neutral expression, "come Sunset, you have a new task." Sunset approached the girl. Realizing her aloofness wasn't personal made Sunset feel a weight was being lifted off her shoulders.

"Konnichi wa," Sunset said to her first customer with a saleswoman's smile, "and welcome to A Taste of Neighpon." Sunset was acting as the maître'd and was dressed in the kimono and sandals. To make an effort for her new job, she styled her hair into a more Neighponese style, tying it together with a barrette shaped like a puffer fish. She also picked up some Neighponese phrases.

"Table for one," the customer, an old lady, said with a polite smile. Sunset gave the woman a menu and led her to her table where Zecora was ready to take her order. Sunset smiled. That woman didn't seem to judge her, or even know who she was. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Sunset returned to the podium just as a new customer came in through the door.

"Konnichi wa," Sunset repeated, "and welcome to-," Sunset's cheer died down as she saw who came through the door.

"Shimmer," Bon Bon said with an unpleasant expression, "what are doing here?" While most students disliked Sunset, Bon Bon was one of the few students who went out of her way to talk down to her. Sunset noticed that Bon Bon only did this when Rainbow or Twinkle weren't around to tell her off. Sunset thus had little respect for anything the candy lover said to her.

"Doing what you've never done before," Sunset said with a smirk, "something useful."

"To think you're working here," Bon Bon said with a stern glare, "I never knew this place also offered prostitution and sushi."

"Well why don't you apply," Sunset said with a frown, "you're mouth is so big, you must be using it for something other than sucking-,"

"Sunset-san." Sunset turned around and saw her boss looking at her sternly. "What did I say?" Sunset remembered how according to Neighponese tradition, she had to be polite to everyone, even to people she disliked. With a sigh, reluctantly led Bon Bon to her table, who reveled in forcing Sunset to be polite to her. Before Sunset could walk away, Bon Bon called her over.

"Yes ma'am," Sunset said. Bon Bon saw some soy sauce spilled on the table.

"Clean it up," Bon Bon said with a nasty grin. With a sigh, Sunset wiped it up. Before Sunset could walk away, Bon Bon called her over. She saw an even bigger soy sauce spill. "Sorry," Bon Bon said with an even nastier grin, "made another mess."

"I'm not cleaning it up," Sunset growled.

"Do it, criminal," Bon Bon gloated, "or I'll tell your boss." Sunset felt her teeth clench, realizing with pent up rage that as someone with her bad reputation, it was Bon Bon's word against hers. She fantasized about smashing the candy lover's teeth, but remembered she didn't have that luxury. If she acted out, she'd lose her job, and any chances of finding other employment. With a tired sigh, Sunset bent down, and wiped up the bigger stain, ignoring Bon Bon's smug grin.

"Personally, I think this job suits you," Bon Bon gloated, "with your ass bent over for everyone to look at." Sunset grit her teeth again. Once the mess was clean, she stormed away from the nasty little witch to the podium. She struggled to get her temper under control before the next customer came. She had to be polite, no matter the situation.

"Konnichi wa," Sunset said as a group came in, "welcome to-," Sunset's mood brightened when she saw who came in.

"Hey Sunspot," Twinkle said with a bright smile that made Sunset feel like there were butterflies in her stomach. Behind him were his teammates, who also looked at Sunset with warm smiles.

"Twinkle, Sprint," Sunset said with a happy voice, "what are you guys?"

"Our meet ended early," Sprint said, "so we decided to stop by."

"Plus we heard that some hot babe got a job here," Ozone said with a sly smile. Twinkle just rolled his eyes, which showed how secure he was, and how much he trusted Ozone.

"Anyways," Sunset said with happy, "let me get you guys a table." Sunset let her boyfriend and his friends to a booth near the back.

"How's the work treating you," Zip asked Sunset.

"Great."

"Anyone giving you trouble?" Ozone asked with a stern voice. Sunset smiled at how the blue-skinned athlete went from hating Sunset to wanting to protect her. Sunset glanced at Bon Bon, who's face was very, very close to the menu. Bon Bon glanced at Sunset and hid her entire face behind the menu out of fear. Sunset briefly considered siccing Twinkle and his friends on the brat.

"Nope," Sunset said with a wry grin. Sunset realized that sometimes rising above was much sweeter than petty revenge. The group took their seats.

"Do you think we can get a discount," Twinkle said with a seductive smile, "being your boyfriend and all."

"How about an extra kiss every time we go out." Sunset said with a smile. The team let out a playful and teasing 'oohs'.

"Sold," Twinkle said with a wry grin. Sunset walked back to the podium, allowing Zecora to take their orders.

"Konnichi wa". Three male teenagers came to the podium. All of them wore identical purple dress shirts with dark blue pants. One guy had grey skin, blue eyes, and well-groomed dark hair. He wore glasses and looked at Sunset with an aloof expression. Another guy had blue skin, poofy white and grey hair, and orange eyes who looked a little snide. The tallest one had white skin, blond hair, and blue eyes. His build was pretty muscular. Almost as muscular as Twinkle's.

"Table for three, pronto," the white skinned guy asked in a somewhat lordly way. To Sunset's discomfort, the blue skinned guy seemed to leer at her.

"Sure," Sunset said with forced politeness, getting a bad feeling about these three. The fire-haired girl led them to a booth and walked away, letting the Zebrican girl serve them.

"What would you like to eat?" Zecora asked the three teenagers as she came to take their orders. "Our special today is quite a feat." The three boys looked at her with a smirk.

"As if this place wasn't so lower class," the white skinned boy said with some disdain, "they would hire a Stripe Head." Zecora felt an uncomfortable frown form on her face.

"I can't believe it either Blueblood," the grey-skinned boy mused, "I pictured her kind hunting antelope, not eating among civilized people."

"Yeah Jet Set," the blue-skinned boy said with childish disdain, "why doesn't she go back to the jungle like the little ape you are?"

The three let out a disdainful laugh. "Good one Pierce," the white kid cackled.

Sunset overheard the conversation and became increasingly enraged. Her rage grew at seeing Zecora put up with this abuse. The way Twinkle was looking at the three punks, he overheard the conversation and was not amused.

"I am a person same as you." Zecora said stoically, brushing off those slurs. "Now what would you like me to bring you." A brief flash of annoyance formed on their faces. Sunset realized these jerks were the kind of people who liked getting a rise out of others, and got annoyed when someone didn't take the bait.

"We'll have a bento," Blueblood said with disdain. Zecora turned to walk away. The blue kid, Pierce, took the soy sauce and poured it all over the floor with a nasty grin, to Sunset's outrage.

"Waitress," Blueblood said with a mocking smile, "clean up this mess." With either calm or resignation, Zecora bent down to clean it up. With a demented grin, Blueblood extended her hand and proceeded to pinch her butt.

Zecora jumped up with a nasty screech and turned to the three jerks with a saddened expression. Sunset felt her teeth grind together.

"Why did you-?"

"What are talking about?" Blueblood said with a mocking grin. "Now do what you your kind was created to do and serve us." The three boys let out another nasty laugh as Zecora bent over with a frustrated frown on her face.

Sunset felt bits of red cloud her vision. These idiots insulted Zecora for her heritage, treated her like a slave, and sexually assaulted her. But it was the resigned hopelessness on Zecora's face that set her over the edge. Sunset felt her desire to punch those clowns overwhelm her desire to keep her job.

However, she didn't have to, seeing as Twinkle, Sprint, and the rest of the team were thinking the same thing, if their glares were any indication.

The blue-skinned boy then slapped Zecora on the buttocks. Twinkle was about ready to rise out of her chair to beat those brutes up, but was stopped by someone else.

"Leave her alone!" Bon Bon stormed over to the table. To Sunset's surprise, the candy lover's jaw was clenched and her hands were balled up into fists. "Why don't you Crystal Creeps get lost!" The three boys looked at the tanned-skin girl like she was less than an ant.

"And who are you?" Blueblood said with disdain.

"Someone you don't want to mess with." Bon Bon said with a growl.

"Why don't you bend down," Pierce said like he was a petulant kindergartener, "and suck my big, fat-,"

A vicious hand slapped Pierce across the face. Pierce rubbed his sore cheek and cowered away from the angry girl. She then grabbed Blueblood by his collar.

"Last chance assholes," Bon Bon said. "Beat it or I'll beat you!" Sunset couldn't believe it, but she found herself smiling at Bon Bon. The track team were looking at her like proud parents. Mr. Ranchitaimu came over. much to Sunset's glee. These idiots were gonna get the boot.

Much to Sunset's confusion, Blueblood looked more annoyed than afraid as the owner came toward him.

"What is going on here?" Mr. Ranchitaimu asked.

"Mr. Ranchitaimu," Jet Set said with a tone of familiarity, "this brute attacked my friend for no reason."

"What?" Bon Bon said, releasing the white-skinned idiot, "sir, these three-."

"You must leave," Mr. Ranchitaimu said to Bon Bon. Sunset looked at this with disbelief, while Bon Bon looked outraged.

"Sir," Bon Bon protested, "I was-"

"Either that girl leaves," Blueblood said to the Neighponese man, "or I'll call my father to complain about the...deplorable conditions." The words made the usually serious man look nervous.

"Ms. you must leave." Bon Bon was about to object but saw the pleading in the man's eyes. She walked away with a look of pity toward the man and Zecora, who was standing with a hunch, and uncomfortably rubbing her arm. Sparky got up from the booth with an angry expression.

"Mr. Ranchitaimu," Sparky said with outrage, standing up with anger, "we saw those idiots-,"

"I suggest you hold your tongue," Jet Set said with disdain. The three boys rose from their tables. Sunset thought they were cowardly running away, but they showed almost no fear of the giant, yellow-skinned boy.

"Or this man will lose everything," Blueblood said as the three started to walk away from the restaurant. Sparky looked like he wanted to break the boy's neck, but didn't want to threaten to man's livelihood. He watched the three goons leave with a mixture of disgust and outrage. Twinkle and the rest of the track team felt the same way.

Mr. Ranchitaimu looked thoroughly ashamed and helpless, while Zecora looked down at the floor. Sparky, not knowing what else to do, walked up to Zecora to try and comfort her.

"Are you OK?" The yellow skinned runner asked in a soothing tone. Zecora ran out of the restaurant in tears, much to Sunset's pity and horror.

What Is Freedom

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"I can't believe this," Sunset muttered angrily. It was near the end of her shift, she was sweeping the floors alongside Stephen. Sunset was still enraged over how Zecora had been treated, complaining and shrieking about it, while Steven worked with a stoic expression.

"How could Mr. Ranchitaimu let Zecora be treated that way," Sunset whined, "it is not like that idiot owns the place."

"He does actually." Sunset dropped her broom, and looked at Stephen in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Sunset said.

"Blueblood, or more specifically, his father," Stephen said with some disdain, "owns the largest real estate firm in the province."

"Are you serious?" Sunset said.

Stephen looked at Sunset with disbelief. "What do you live under a rock?"

No. Sunset had lived in a bubble, imagining herself as a conqueror of Equestria. Human affairs and celebrity's head never been of an interest to her, since she never planned to actually put down roots in this world.

"I've never cared for...celebrity stuff," Sunset said evasively.

"Nor politics," Stephen replied, "because you would know that Blueblood's grandfather is a parliamentary leader. The Bluebloods are not a clan you can...mess with and not expect severe retaliation."

Sunset frowned deeply. She had seen this kind of behavior in Equestria: rich snobs getting away with horrible misdeeds because of family connections. Even when she was mean, Sunset disliked those who drifted through life through privilege rather than worked hard for everything like she had. Even Princess Celestia, despite her power and basic decency, had to work with those idiots to get anything done.

When Sunset arrived at the United Provinces, she did somewhat agree with the ideals of equality and meritocracy that were espoused.

"But I thought this place was about...equality," Sunset said. "They shouldn't be allowed to get away with stuff like that."

"Equality sure," Stephen parroted sarcastically, "if you can afford it." Stephen swept the floors, albeit with incredible bitterness on his face. "In our so-called democratic system, money can determine what really matters in life."

Sunset looked up at the flag of the United Provinces with more than a bit of disillusionment. The green and red stripes supposedly referred to values of equality and brotherhood. But Sunset witnessed the scion of a political dynasty show none of that.

"So what can we do for Zecora?" Sunset said.

"Nothing," Stephen said sadly, "I've tried to connect with Zecora, but she doesn't like charity. The best thing you can do is try and treat her with respect." Sunset let out a sad sigh as she returned to sweeping, thinking bitterly about how snobbery and hierarchy seemed to exist everywhere.

"What do you all think the UP stands for?" Mr. Overton asked his class.

"Can't you pee standing up?!"

Mr. Overton sighed as the chorus of laughter erupted over the overused, but still humorous, joke. The purple-skinned teacher struggled to control a class at the best of times, but the week before a holiday were a special kind of nightmare, since these kids were more invested in their time off than paying him any attention.

"Class," Mr. Overton uttered, "I know you all vacation coming, but you still have to participate. Even when I'm on vacation, I still have to grade your papers and do your lesson plans." A couple of students still kept talking over him. "The next person who speaks out of turn will have to take notes out of the entire textbook for the entire vacation." Mr. Overton suppressed as smirk as everyone clammed up. No kid wanted to work on the holiday.

"Now," he began, walking over to the whiteboard with a green marker, "what does the United Provinces stand for?" Someone raised their hand.

"Yes Mr. Sandalwood?"

"Uh," the nature boy droned, "freedom?"

"Very good," Mr. Overton said, jotting Sandalwood's contribution down, "but what do you mean by 'freedom'?"

"Uh," Sandalwood droned on, his mind clearly in space. "Dunno?"

"Very eloquent answer," Mr. Overton said with a sly grin. "Can someone else take a stab at it?"

"Uh," Fluttershy tried, "doing whatever you want?"

"OK."

"Not letting anyone else tell you what to do?" Flash Sentry said.

"OK."

"Bombing the crap out of everyone else because UPNT Number One!" Gilda said excitedly with raised fists. Everyone snickered at Gilda' remarks. Mr. Overton wasn't annoyed, actually finding some amusement in Gilda's enthusiasm.

"Gilda actually raised a good point," Mr. Overton said with an interested smile.

"I did?" The tall brawler said with confusion.

"One of the debates of warfare is whether or not it is right to bomb civilians as part of military strategy," Mr. Overton lectured, "in order to preserve liberty, as we are often told, we need an army to fight for us. But is the death of civilians in the name of liberty justifiable? Does protecting liberty require you to infringe upon the life of civilians in an enemy population who are not armed?" A wonderful silence came over his class. It meant they seriously considered his question. Even the military brat was left speechless.

"Our nation was founded on the ideal of freedom," Mr. Overton said with a smirk, "but many of us have different ideas about what freedom is. Let me ask another question. What is a country that is not free?"

"The Changeling Alliance," Gilda said with a stern frown. Everyone in class new about their geopolitical enemy, but the military enthusiast, adopted into a military background, would have a special hatred for the Alliance.

"And what makes them 'not free'?" Mr. Overton asked with a smile.

"I don't know," Gilda mumbled, "the...executions, and secret police, and labor camps, and....stuff."

"The Changeling Alliance certainly does all those things," Mr. Overton said, "The ideology of the alliance, since its founding 70 years ago is Hivism. Can anyone tell me what that is?" A muscular arm raised its hand. "Yes Mr. Biceps!"

"Hivism is a totalitarian ideology that promotes the notion that human beings must be obedient to a central authority," Bulk repeated from memory, "the same way that bees must be obedient to a queen. They promote this as a means to exert societal control over a large population, and to suppress dissent and attempts at overthrowing the elite."

"Well put, Mr. Biceps," Mr. Overton said proudly. The brawny teen let out a bashful smile. "Since the Chrysalis Dynasty took over the Changeling Kingdom, each Empress Chrysalis has declared that subversion, individualism, and any form of dissent are a threat to societal harmony." Everyone chuckled at that. "To that end, all facets of Changeling society, from television, to education, to journalism, promote Empress Chrysalis as an infallible god who can do no wrong. That any dissent against her is a threat to the Alliance as a whole." A stern frown came on his face. "And what happens when you step out of line?" Some raised their hand.

"Yes, Ms. Heartstrings?"

"Execution?" She said.

"Sometimes," Mr. Overton said with a stern frown. "Other times, you can be imprisoned for years, tortured, brutalized, enslaved in a labor camp, along with your significant other, and three generations of family that follow you." Mr. Overton let out another frown. "I met a Changeling refugee. He told me he had been given a 20 year sentence for the crime of not praising the Empress three times a day." Everyone was shocked at that.

"Really?" Someone said with horror.

"Yes," Mr. Overton replied with a stern frown. "That is what life is like without legal rights or freedom. That is what happens when society does not grant you legal protections. You can be imprisoned, mistreated, or even killed at the whim of a corrupt official. That is what freedom is not." Overton's smile returned to his face. "But we have some difficulty deciding what freedom is." Mr. Overton pulled out a poster with different icons. "There are the five political parties we all know about. Each of them has different ideas on what freedom is and isn't." Mr. Overton pointed to the icon of a gear. "Can anyone tell me what the Workers' Party defines as freedom?" A blue arm raised its hand. "Yes, Ms. Dash."

"Freedom means standing up to rich jerks who want to control our lives," Rainbow said enthusiastically. "My great-grandpa fought against scabs and crooks at the Pegasapolis Motor Strike!"

"And how do they create freedom in that regard?"

"Um," Rainbow muttered, "letting us...have unions and stuff, and giving us...stuff."

"Since the founding of the Workers' Party over 100 years ago," Mr. Overton began, "the party has claimed to be the party of the people. In the first Workers' Era, the party promoted collective bargaining rights, the right to a shorter work week, and the right to strike. In the second Workers' Era, after the Great Crash, the party promoted positive rights. The idea that government shouldn't just safeguard natural rights, but provide us with things people couldn't obtain themselves. Like health care, education, and housing." He looked back at Rainbow Dash. "Do you think government services are freedom?"

"Yeah," Rainbow replied.

"But why?"

"Because we'd...all be poor," Rainbow stammered, "how can we be free if we don't get enough to eat."

"Gear Shift, the founder of the Worker's Party, said roughly the exact same thing about 100 years ago," Mr. Overton commented, " 'Man cannot be free if he is confined to a cold room, and must sleep with an empty stomach.' ".

"Yeah, that's what I meant to say," Rainbow said with an uneasy smile.

"But the Workers' Party also believes in tariffs," the purple-skinned man commented with a sly grin, "to keep foreign cars from places like Neighpon off the market in order to protect industries. Why?"

"To ensure that people like my dad can keep their factory jobs," Rainbow Dash said.

"But does protect jobs mean we can't be allowed to purchase the things we want," Mr. Overton said. "Does your father's right to his job come before my right as a consumer to buy the things I want to buy?" Rainbow Dash didn't respond, instead silently mulling over the question.

"Now let's move on to the Family and Law Party." Mr. Overton pointed to the picture of a silhouette of a nuclear family embracing one another.

"The party of rich snobs," Rainbow muttered under her breath.

"What does the Family and Law Party define as freedom?" A white arm was raised. "Yes, Mrs. Rarity."

"The party believes that we should be protected against obscenity and perversion," the white-skinned girl muttered.

"Why?"

"Because filth and nonsense should not be allowed to contaminate the airwaves or the Internet," Rarity said.

"So we should be free of things like naughty language?"

"Yes," Rarity replied.

"Currently, the Family and Law Party is the one in power," Mr. Overton discussed, "and Chief Minister Fancypants has often gone on about the need to protect the family from perversion."

"And he's so handsome too," Rarity drooled. She blushed when she realized what she was saying and saw everyone was snickering. "I mean," she said with a blush, "his grooming is...excellent."

"Rarity's thirsty for an old man," Gilda mocked. Everyone laughed, while Rarity felt her face fall into her hands out of embarrassment.

"Yes it is true," Mr. Overton replied, "we shouldn't have perversion on the TV. But perhaps perversion is...subjective isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Rarity replied.

"In a 1938 debate in the Assembly about foul language," Mr. Overton said, "a comedian who was known for his profane statements said this: 'the Great Text [1] is full of violence and death, and yet I'm being mocked for saying the ten dirty words'." He paused for a moment. "The Family and Law Party promotes living according to Ameliorist Values, and abiding by the Great Text. But there are stories of violence and murder in it. So should we censor it, Ms. Rarity? Stories of torture sound like perversions."

Rarity mulled over the question, and found herself unable to respond easily.

"Now we move on to the Plains Party." Mr. Overton gestured to a picture of a pitchfork. "What is freedom for the Plains Party?" A tan armed raised its hand. "Yes, Ms. Smith."

"The Plains Party ensures that family farms can survive," Applejack drawled, "and that everybody has enough to eat."

"How?"

"Providing subsidies for farms," Applejack said.

"And your family's farm gets subsidies, correct?"

"Yep."

"But many people argue that subsidies takes taxpayer money and gives to farmers so they grow food no one wants," Mr. Overton replied, "if I was someone who didn't like apples, shouldn't I be upset that my taxes are going to apple farms?"

"I'd say you need to get yer head checked," Applejack snarked. Everyone chuckled.

"Now we move on the Chaos Party." Mr. Overton pointed to an insignia of a tornado. "Who can-,"

"OH! ME! ME! ME!" Pinkie Pie got in front of the class, and started jumping up and down. "The Chaos Party says everybody should have fun and not let meanies tell us what to do.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mr. Overton, like everyone else, was taken aback by Pinkie's...Pinkie-ness.

"Well, I wanted to host the best party EVER in the park," Pinkie Pie began, "but the stupid zoning board wouldn't let me!"

"Why?"

"Because of some dumb noise law and environmental law," Pinkie complained with a moan. "How unfair is that? But the Chaos Party agreed with me, which is why I joined."

"You make an astounding point," Mr. Overton bellowed to the hyperactive girl who kept jumping up and down. "You were being denied freedom to throw a party." A smirk formed on his face. "But does your right to party mean you can infringe upon the happiness of others?"

The pink-skinned girl suddenly froze in mid-air, her face speechless.

"But, aren't parties...fun?!"

"But some people don't like noise, and your party would make a lot of it." Mr. Overton smirked. "That's why noise pollution laws exist."

"Really?" Pinkie Pie said uneasily, as if unable to comprehend the idea of her party hurting other people.

"And your party would create a lot of trash that hurts the environment," Mr. Overton continued, "is your right to have fun mean you can pollute the park that everyone enjoys."

"I guess not," Pinkie Pie muttered.

"The Chaos Party, as some of you know, believes that all laws and regulations should be abolished, and that personal freedom is the ultimate right. The founder, Mr. Discord, has denounced everything from the draft to laws against narcotics and drunk driving." A small frown appeared on his face. "But Mr. Discord, shall we say, has been a lightning rod of controversy."

"He has like 3 DUIs, doesn't he?" Flash said.

"He was caught in bed with several whores," Rarity bemoaned.

"Mr. Discord's ideology is one that only rejects laws, but personal responsibility," Mr. Overton opined. "He believes that personal joy is the only thing that matters. But he is guilty of infringing upon the well being of others. In exchange for rights, we all have certain duties to society, and the laws that Mr. Discord opposes ensure that we remember our duty to not hurt others. Does personal pleasure give you a right to endanger or disturb others." Pinkie Pie became unusually thoughtful.

"Now we move on to the Green Leaf Party." Mr. Overton pointed to an insignia that looked like an olive branch. "What do they believe is freedom?" A yellow arm uneasily rose. "Yes, Ms. Fluttershy."

"Tree Hugger says we should all live in harmony with nature," the pink-girl muttered, not liking the attention.

"And how?"

"By protecting the Earth?"

"But how?"

"By stopping pollution, and not eating meat anymore." Fluttershy looked down her knees for a moment.

"In order to be free, we do need clean air and water," Mr. Overton agreed. "But isn't it unfair to tell me what I can and can't eat." Fluttershy's eyes fell to her knees again.

"But...cows are innocent creatures," Fluttershy said with dismay, "why would anyone want to eat something so cute?"

"And what if I'm dying of hunger," Mr. Overton said with a wry grin. "The only thing I have to eat is cow. It is fair to let me starve?"

"You could...drink the milk," Fluttershy whimpered.

"But what if I'm lactose intolerant?" Mr. Overton said dramatically. Fluttershy wept bitterly, unable to face such a wrenching choice, much to the amusement of everyone else.

"But Tree Hugger isn't just an enviromentalist." Mr. Overton's face became more professional. "She's also a pacifist. She says that the military draft is slavery, and we shouldn't have an army anymore. Do you agree with her that a military is against freedom?"

"Yes."

"Why is war against freedom?"

"Because we should all live in peace, and no one should have to do anything they don't want to."

"Coward." Gilda snorted.

"Our military draft has long been controversial since its inception after the Second Meridian War." Mr. Overton's face became more grave. "How did that war start again?" A purple arm was raised.

"Yes Mr. Chips?"

"Well," the geek said nervously, "Emperor Sombra of the Kristall Empire believed the...Krajian people [2], and especially the Yehuvian [3] people...we're an inferior race that needed to be exterminated, and their lands given to the people of the Kristall Empire, and so he invaded..." Micro Chips frowned as he remembered unpleasant family history. He relaxed when Gilda put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"And what did Emperor Sombra do to invade?" A white arm rose. "Yes, Ms. Griffon?"

"He tricked the Krajian people into disarming, claiming he wanted peace," Gilda said. Her tone was full of disgust. "Once the Krajian people let their guard down, he invaded, the monster."

"Yes, it was horrible," Mr. Overton said with some sadness. "Almost all of us agree that Emperor Sombra's policies were beyond evil. But Sombra never thought he was a monster. He believed with every fiber of his being that people should be like crystals: pure and flawless. And that impure people, like impure crystals, should be...destroyed." Everyone's faced turned with disgust at that.

"If you don't have an army, Ms. Fluttershy," Mr. Overton lectured, "how do you defend against an enemy that believes that your destruction is a righteous cause?" Fluttershy was speechless, unable to respond.

"There are some who argue if the Yehuvian people had not been disarmed, a genocide wouldn't have occurred." Mr. Overton said. "And the Changeling Alliance is not a society that seeks to live within its borders. Whenever it is has had the opportunity, it has spread its ideology and control to its weaker neighbors. If we abolished our military, what would we do if they decided to invade us and our allies?" A question hung over everyone like a scary storm. "Is the time we give to the draft an excuse for social control, or a necessary sacrifice to ensure liberty?" No one answered.

"In conclusion, freedom is rarely simple," Mr. Overton concluded. "One's own freedom could potentially infringe upon the well-being of others, while certain collective responsibilities may be an unfair demand placed on us. These debates have existed since the United Provinces were founded. And they'll continue long after we're gone. Because as society has changed, so has our understanding of freedom, and the changes we may see in our lifetimes will force into us new debates." He glanced at the clock. "Since we're about out of time, I shall give you your assignment. You must write a one page paper, in which you give your own definition of what freedom is. Due Friday." Someone raised their hands.

"What is your definition of freedom Mr. Overton?" Flash Sentry asked. The blue-haired guitarist and others were keenly interested in what he thought was freedom.

"I believe the fact that we can have these discussions is what makes our society free," Mr. Overton said with some pride. The bell rang.

"Remember, you still have to do your homework," the purple man called out to the students getting their books and leaving the room.

Sunset said nothing as she walked out of the classroom, reconciling the treatment of Zecora with the supposed ideals Mr. Overton droned on about.

Working Girl Sunny

by redandready45

The Working World

Labor Pains

What Is Freedom