> I Was Once a Fool But Then the Communism Bus Came and Drove Me to Salvation > by GermanBrony_12 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Conference > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sun shone brightly on the great Crystal Union, illuminating the chaos within its borders. Day and night, ponies hurried about in a desperate search for Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, who, just a few days prior, had vanished from the palace.  Far from the reaches of the sun, however, a conference was being held in the Assembly Hall of the Equestrian Populace, where high-ranking unicorns of the Friendship Council of Parity, often abbreviated as simply “FCP”,  would convene every so often to alleviate the suffering of everypony in the nation.  Now, a catastrophe had come about, terrifying all and decimating their will to continue in life, a thing few wished to do sans Cadance. It was imperative that action be taken to return her to safety. After a brief clopping of hooves, the unicorns had settled down in their assigned seats, which formed a perfect semicircle around the seat of the council’s head, Chancellor Neighsay. As was the tradition, he raised a diamond mallet via levitation, and, with a single, solid strike, silence was brought to the hall.  The conference began with the usual introduction of issues, of which only one was to be discussed: the presently fruitless search for Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence. As of yet, only earth ponies and pegasi had been drafted for the search, as all unicorns held the collective belief that it was unethical to force creatures of extraordinary elegance to participate in labour-intensive endeavours, making conscription of unicorns against their  morals and thus inconceivable. However, the searches had revealed nothing so far, and all but a small group of eligible ponies had already been conscripted, making every attempt seem more and more futile. At this point, the only viable solution was to institute conscription of unicorns. The mere suggestion of this was entirely outrageous, as was evidenced by the violent cries of the unicorns as they began to assault anypony that seemed to hold a differing opinion. In but a moment, the council had descended into a mad brawl, each unicorn desperate to ensure that the ponies of the Crystal Union kept their rightful liberty, but at last, the assembly returned nearly to order after Chancellor Neighsay had defeated a dangerous tyrant amid the group and frozen time to call the others back to their initial state.  With the session resumed, the unicorns finally held a civilised debate, though unfortunately a few members were a bit too quiet, and their friends sometimes found themselves having to shout to remind them what level of volume was necessary. In the end, the committee reluctantly decided that it was best for the nation that all ponies, unicorns included, be made eligible for conscription.  In addition to this, one member suggested that instead of aimlessly thrusting ponies into the wilderness to perform solitary searches, they be collected and placed together in groups for a more effective search. The others were quick to agree, however, now there came a new question: should unicorns be grouped with only unicorns, or should other ponies search alongside them? The council switched sides in its unanimous support of one option several times before finally agreeing that the other ponies would be able to investigate more effectively with the assistance of unicorns by their side, resulting in the closing of the meeting. Chancellor Neighsay sent off the members of the council with the final task of finding unicorns to replace those that had been lost during the recent discussion, and in another moment, the great chamber was empty. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The FCP was quite quick to act when it wanted to be, and as it was an emergency, the latest decisions were almost immediately enacted, roughly two thousand ponies being selected by raffle for the search. By the end of the day, everypony chosen had been gathered at the city centre and organised into search parties of three ponies each: one unicorn, one earth pony, and one pegasus. Each group was sent to search a different region of Equestria, some sent to locations beyond Equestria to ensure that Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, would be found. One of such groups was a set of friends from a central province of the Crystal Union: Hoofheim. The three comrades had been united on this team by chance and ordered to investigate the Tenochtitlan Basin in hopes of finding their leader. As were the other groups, the three were supplied with equipment fitting their mission and sent on their way the following morning. > On the Way > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tizzy Humbug tightened the straps of her saddlebags. It was time to head to the great Tenochtitlan Basin to aid in the national effort to retrieve the lost leader. So long a journey, of course, would require a few train rides, and even after that there would still be several kilometres of walking before they could even begin to scan the area. Just the thought of it was exhausting, not to mention the concept of travelling with Quip Pundit. She shuddered, rapidly shifting her mind to a more pleasing topic. At the very least, the Tenochtitlan Basin was a beautiful area, with massive trees nourished by frequent showers and complex networks of fungi. Perhaps the journey would end up being more like a vacation. Then, she grew nervous. The region was known for having many fierce predators and dangerous flora, all of which could injure or kill her during her expedition. Gah! Having anxiety really ruins things, making it impossible to enjoy life-threatening situations like everyone else. Why must she be tortured by such dreadful misfortune? Glancing around to see the ponies around her, she began to hyperventilate. Luckily, her comrades should either already be at the train station or close enough that they would see her soon. She took a swig of water from her canteen to calm herself. A great blast from the train called her to its doors. As she approached, she met the eyes of her dear friend, Mort Swain, her saddle bags precariously placed upon her back. She smiled and waved at Tizzy Humbug, still using her other hoof to support the baggage she carried, and immediately fell face-first into the wooden boards beneath her. “Morty! Are you okay?” she asked, obstructing the path of everypony around as she rushed to her side and stood nearby as she gathered her items. “The world is so cruel; you don’t deserve to be dropped on the ground, yet it seems to happen quite often.” “The world owes me nothing. It came first,” said Mort Swain, finally rising to enter the train. She chuckled a bit as they walked to their designated cabin together, carrying her bags in the same way she had previously. The two sat down across from each other and chatted for a while about unique and intriguing philosophical theories relating to the complex concepts of favoured colours and children’s media. After an hour of such conversation, a waiter approached the table, prepared to take their order. Tizzy Humbug turned to speak to him and let out a deafening squeal. “What the heck Quip Pundit?! How long have you been sitting there?!” she asked, barely breathing after coming dangerously close to cardiac arrest.  “I see your eyesight has worsened since I last saw you. I’ve been by you since we arrived at the train station! I even helped you carry your bags!” he said, tragically dropping her belongings as the train experienced an especially prominent rumble.  “Wh- Why?! You know what, nevermind,” she said, turning her attention to the waiter. The pony cleared his throat before offering the group a vast selection of cheese-related dishes. Each pony took their turn ordering; for Quip Pundit, a grilled cheese sandwich, made from camembert cheese bread and a melted provolone cheese centre, with a side of ripple-cut gouda fries, for Mort Swain, a mix of edam cheese-berries dipped in mascarpone cheese and medium-rare havarti cheese-fish, and for Tizzy Humbug, a two-layered cheese cake, the specialty of the cheese chef, which consisted of a base layer of muenster cheese and a top layer of taleggio cheese, fully frosted with a creamy chevre cheese frosting. Five minutes later, the glorious feast of cheese arrived at their table. Luckily, Tizzy Humbug’s seemingly constant depression was easily swept aside by the magnificence of cheese. She quickly unpacked her colourful collection of cheese knives and began to cut her cheese cake, the moist chevre frosting smearing across the muenster and taleggio as she sliced through it. The cake, of course, was delicious, however that did not prevent her from trying the perfectly cooked havarti fish and mouth-wateringly cheesy grilled cheese which Quip Pundit, an obnoxiously picky eater, refused to eat. In the end, the whole meal turned into almost a brawl between Tizzy Humbug and Mort Swain, who continuously stole the cheese from each other’s cheese-plates. When all had run out of the gourmet cheese dishes, the two resorted to eating the delectable manchego cheese plates, claiming that if they did not, they would likely be unable to survive the search for Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence. Quip Pundit merely nodded, looking on with disdain at the unholy quantities of cheese which had come and gone before his eyes and preparing to sleep in the cabin’s bunk bed. After a thorough, perhaps even excessive, night of cheese, the three settled down for the night. Thankfully, the FCP spared no bits in making sure that every drafted pony would have everything they could possibly need, including two beds for the group of three. Having two ponies in the same bed was out of the question, so the only logical option at this point was to have Quip Pundit sleep on the floor, as he had been through worse in the past, whereas Tizzy Humbug, being the unicorn that she was, required a high quality resting place to ensure that her magic would function well in case of emergency. Quip Pundit flopped down on the floor and quickly fell asleep, as did the others in the bunks, enjoying the peaceful night on the train. > Visitor > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- All of a sudden, the train shook as though bombarded by artillery fire. A dark red and yellow bus had slammed into the train, tossing it onto its side. Tizzy Humbug and Mort Swain were thrust against the wall while Quip Pundit was thrown across the room, barely catching himself with his wings before he hit the wall. The three were in a panic, rushing out the emergency exit to see what had happened.  As they exited the train, the bus backed up and parked next to it, the smiling face painted on its bonnet now frowning from the bend of the crushed metal. Two ponies, wearing the military green garments of the proletariat, burst out of the vehicle.  “Our scanners picked up powerful class struggle signals from this time period. We’re here to lead your revolution!” cried Doughnut Joe, holding out his hoof to the group.  Quip Pundit looked at him, eyes glistening at the prospects of revolution. Big Macintosh stood by his side, examining the damaged bus.  Tizzy Humbug looked irritated, “Your device must be malfunctioning. Ever since Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, came, we’ve had perfect equality amongst all ponies.” “Well, we’re using the ‘Horse Inequality Probe,’ which has proven to be incredibly accurate. HIPs don’t lie. We can see that only that which benefits unicorns gets done here, and that must end. Your civilisation may not have been blessed with a pony like Mane Zedong, but that does not mean you cannot fight back! Follow us, we must overthrow the unicorns!” Quip Pundit took one look at his friends and walked away to join Big Macintosh and Doughnut Joe. Mort Swain grabbed him by the shoulder to pull him back. “We already have equality, Quip. I’m all for murder and overthrowing governments, but not if they’re innocent. Life is meaningless anyway since we’ll all be gone in the end, so why work toward improvement at all?” Tizzy Humbug stepped in, “What did the unicorns ever do to you? We have a stable government where you are represented by intelligent, upper-class unicorns who regularly fight for your well-being. And now what, do you plan to throw them out for trying to help you? Do you think you’re the only one suffering? I have to deal with constant anxiety, and I can barely get more than seven hours of sleep each night. What happened to you?” Quip Pundit laughed at this, “Ha! Of course you, a unicorn, would think that you know suffering. You were too elegant to fight in the war. You never had to live in the trenches. You didn’t murder your own parents at the command of a unicorn who hadn’t even seen the outside of their palace! The only thing that could possibly stop me from joining the revolution is the fact that you might benefit from it. Good luck.” He trotted into the bus with Big Macintosh and Doughnut Joe, and after a brief period of sputtering, they drove off toward Crystal City. > The Jungle > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Betrayed by their partner and left in the wreckage of the train, Tizzy Humbug and Mort Swain returned to the cabin to collect their belongings. The Tenochtitlan Basin was only a few kilometres away now, and whether they had Quip Pundit or not, they still had to find their leader.  The two ponies set off at a steady pace of 7.402982 kilometres per hour, not stopping until they had reached the edge of the forest just 96.31304347826088 minutes later. The sun was just above the horizon now, the shadows of the trees dashing away from it in long dark pillars. Dust-like water droplets filled the air in a gentle mist which obscured the ancient structures of Tenochtitlan as a gentle breeze whistled through the crevices of eroded crags. Echoing through the vast rainforest was the call of exotic birds, welcoming the new day in a delightful symphony known by all that lived there. If this was where the sought one lay, it was doubtful that she would wish to return, for who could bring themself to leave an immaculate paradise such as this one? Much as they desired to, there was no time to admire, for they had only enough cheese in their bags to last a few days, and staying beyond that point would require them to hunt for food. Tizzy Humbug was quickly reminded of the many things she had forgotten to pack for her journey. Although she had an exceptional array of cheese knives, she had forgotten to bring any for herself, a tragedy which could evidently be felt by every creature nearby. Not a single beast could be seen, not only from the thick fog which enveloped them, but also from their lack of existence in the first place. Aside from the few birds still singing in the light of dawn, the forest was entirely devoid of life.  The two crept forward with great caution, or at least, Tizzy Humbug did; considering her nonchalant attitude toward life, it was nigh impossible to tell for certain whether Mort Twain truly took anything seriously, and at this moment, she appeared to waltz about the eerily quiet forest carefree. Irritated by her actions, Tizzy Humbug called out to her, “Be careful, Morty! You’ll get killed if you keep carelessly strutting through the fog like that!” “Why should I fear death? I was dead for billions of years before I was born; I’m still fine.” Lo and behold, her warning was immediately succeeded by a shrill cry as Mort Swain fell into a deep ditch. Tizzy Humbug rushed to where she had last seen her companion and peered down into the great trench which now confined her.  “I can’t help but feel like this was easily avoidable,” said Tizzy Humbug, visibly frustrated by her foolishness. “Well, there’s no way you slept well enough last night to be able to help me out with magic, so how am  I supposed to get out?”  Tizzy Humbug hesitated for a moment, deciding at last to use her magic to lift Mort Swain from the muddy trench. However, just as she began to raise her, Mort Swain shouted at her to stop. She, of course, followed this order instantly, violently dumping her friend back into the sordid hole. She began to dig around in the dirt there, scraping away the earth to remove a small, crusty clue. It was a pink and purple feather, caked in mud, yet still without a doubt belonging to Our Friend and Liberator Cadance. She must be in the area. Mort Swain called her down to search with her, but unfortunately, she could not come for a number of reasons, too many to list here, so she sent her friend along to search on her own while she remained at the cleaner, drier surface. Mort Swain worked her way through the maze of tunnels that followed from her location, diligently examining every crevice which could hold some form of clue. Tizzy Humbug, too, inspected the dirt beneath and upon her hooves, in case some microscopic trace of their leader had manifested itself within the dirt that lightly coated a portion of her leg. Her exhaustive search was then interrupted by a cry in the distance. It was Mort Swain, calling for her to help. Carefully avoiding the perilous  pits of mud, Tizzy Humbug made her way into the trench to meet her friend.  It was a miracle! Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, was tightly bound to a boulder, deep within the corridors of the abandoned bunker. They rushed to help her, chewing through the sturdy cords which ensnared their beloved leader, and removed the mass of moss melding the muscles  of her maw together. With a great gasp, she thanked them emphatically and implored them to help her return to their homeland. The two nodded and dragged her out of the pit to begin the journey home. Before exiting, though, Mort Twain’s boundless curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but ask: “Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, what happened? Were you kidnapped by an evil possessed murderer trying to throw our glorious union into total anarchy?” She was eager to find out, but her leader simply turned her head and changed the subject to how unbefitting of a unicorn those old trenches were, later correcting herself to “pony,” as she had originally intended to say. This reply disappointed her immensely, but she ignored this overwhelming sensation and conversed as she wished her to.  The road ahead was long, and with no train to carry them to and fro, it would surely take them several days and nights to return to their dwelling in the Frozen North. There was no time to waste, and thus they set out once more, this time having to carefully ration their cheese, now distributing it to Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, as well. Marching forward along the path, the mist cleared to reveal the vast expanse of kasaya-orange sand that lay just beyond the paradisiacal jungle which once housed them; it would be a long journey. Onwards they marched for hours upon hours, out of the desert and into the swamps ahead; Forwards they advanced, through woods, and fields, and woods again. Quickly, the days seemed to pass them by, the sun making great leaps from horizon to horizon in its circadian journey, not once looking back toward the day before. Indeed, the journey was long and tiresome, and none could deny the constant sensation of hunger and nothing more. Towering above them with colossal grace, the mountain ahead proved too daunting a task for the starving ponies, and the journey had been extended yet again in their choice to venture around it, but in the end, the three arrived at the gates of the Frozen North.  The final stretch awaited them, and into the infinite storm they trekked, now used to the constant aching of hunger, and with a full day of icy winds and layers of snow, they arrived at the shining towers of Crystal City. At long last, they had made it. > Ashes > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- For once in its history, a light flurry had come to the city, betraying its ancient shield of warmth which denied the Frozen North beyond its entrance. It was beautiful, decorating the city in soft white specks, descending in great chunks which drifted by in the wind. The ponies couldn’t help but reach out to touch a bit, but it seems the snow was too cold, for it burnt their hooves to touch it. It was good to be home, away from the struggles of their journey. A blast erupted from the centre of the city. Fire! Fire! The Crystal Palace had turned to magnesium and was alight with a fiery inferno! The dazzling snow about them had been naught but ashes all along!  Unicorns ran in all directions, fleeing the glowing haze which met them at every turn. The palace was too bright to look at, but its heavenly light made a perfect frame for the revolutionaries outside it, flags high in the sky. The city was burning. Our Friend and Liberator, Cadence, was quick to abandon her saviours, and Tizzy Humbug and Mort Swain were left staring in awe at the blaze. Out from the Smoke leapt Quip Pundit, followed by Big Macintosh, both dressed in military fatigues.  “The unicorns are no more!” he shouted. “They who once preached equality, yet placed themselves above the rest, have been overthrown. All that’s left of the FCP is the ashes you see now! Join us, Mort Swain, we shall found a new group, the EPC, Equal Pony Council!” “I- uh…” began Mort Twain, but before she could answer, Quip Pundit swept her up, for really, she had already agreed; no one had resisted so far. At this, Tizzy Humbug was angered, “She never agreed to that! The only thing ponies have agreed to without asking is the instalment of a unicorn council. There’s a reason that unicorns got special treatment here, though really, it was hardly better than what you received, and that was because they needed to be able to perform magic! I was barely able to lift Mort Swain earlier after I got hit by your guys’ bus earlier.” Just then, Doughnut Joe leapt forward from behind a burning building. He, despite his sleep-deprived state, froze Tizzy Humbug in a block of cheese. “We can’t let the unicorns continue to corrupt the minds of the masses. Mort Swain, grab her! We have to finish them off.” The group sprinted through the streets. Ponies all around were dressed in military fatigues, burning the city to the ground. It was chaos, but it would surely bring about a greater peace. Once they reached the centre, Quip Pundit, stopping to kiss his boyfriend, Big Macintosh, grabbed the block of cheese and tossed it into the flames, which glowed a delightful red and yellow, showing that it was pleased by the cheese. Mort Swain screamed at the sight of the sacrifice, or perhaps at the fiery demon which crawled out of the ashes behind Quip Pundit; either way, she was terrified.  “It’s fine, Mort Swain; think nothing of it. What has been thrown into the flames was merely a block of cheese and nothing more,” cried Quip Pundit, desperately trying to be heard over the shrieks of the fire god.  Big Macintosh held him tightly as the great beast towered over them. With a final request through the infinite heat, the creature raised its embers to the sky and destroyed the unicorn race, all but one: Donut Joe, who, unlike the others, had only good intentions with his being a unicorn. At last, Equestria, in its new form of: “The Ponies’ Republic of Equestria,” had come to peace. The great nation lived on in perfect unity under the careful guidance of Doughnut Joe and the EPC, and Big Macintosh followed his dream, spreading the blessings of the revolution across all time periods. Equestria had been purged of the unicorns.