Mayor Mare short


                                            "I'm sorry, Anon, but I simply can't approve this."

                                            >"And why the fuck not? What stupid reason did you bureaucratic fucks come up with this time?"

                                            >Be Mayor Mare

                                            >Also be fed up with the screeching harpy of a stallion before you

                                            >But which of them isn't, am I right?

                                            "Mr.Anonymous, according to Section 8, Paragraph 3 of the Ponyville property ownership legislation, a stallion is not allowed to purchase real estate property within city limits without the approval and notarized signature of his herd alpha. And seeing as-"

                                            >"So what, single stallions can't buy shit?"

                                            >Breath in

                                            >Remember that you can't hit a stallion

                                            >Breath out

                                            "Mr.Anonymous. Single stallions are more than welcome to purchase property, should they have the funds and desire to do so. But you are not a single stallion. Legally, at least." You explain in a calm, direct manner.

                                            >"Well, that's news to me. Where's this chick that I'm supposedly with and why am I not currently balls deep in her Crayola-colored pussy right now?" Anon asked, gesturing around as if searching for someone

                                            >You open a desk drawer and pull out a form you just knew you'd need quick access to

                                            >You spin it on your desk to face the colt before you

                                            >After staring at it for a solid five minutes - you timed it - Anon looks up at you

                                            >"What the fuck is this?"

                                            "This, Mr.Anonymous, is a decree of herdship. If you look closely, you'll notice that in the space labeled 'Stallion' is your name. And over here, under 'Primary Mare' is one Ms.Twilight Sparkle." You inform him, pointing at different areas of the form. "And here at the bottom, is both your signatures, notarized by yours truly."

                                            >"Waitwaitwait, hold on. Are you saying Sporkle and I are horsemarried?" Anon asked in disbelief

                                            >You sigh again

                                            >You always needed to explain this to stallions, yet the process never got any less grueling

                                            "No, Mr.Anonymous. A decree of herdship and a marriage certificate are two completely different things. Herdship is for census data and matters of property ownership. A marriage certificate is a legal union of two individuals. Technically, if you and Ms.Sparkle WERE married, you would be allowed to purchase property without her approval. But seeing as you are not, I cannot approve your land purchase proposal."

                                            >Anon picked up the form and stared at it in stern concentration for another - you timed it - five minutes straight

                                            >His attempts at understanding such basic legal jargon would be adorable if he weren't so sundamned whimsical

                                            >"Looks like I'm gonna have to have a very long talk with Twigpig regarding the ethics of nonconsensual marriage." Anon stated before he turned and began walking to your office door

                                            >Before exiting, he turned back to you and pointed a finger at you with squinted eyes

                                            >"And then I'll be back to deal with the rest of your Kafkaesque bullshit." He promised before finally slipping out

                                            >You deflated as you let out a long exhale

                                            >Great, now you have another waste of time to add to your bloated schedule

                                            >As you pulled out your trusty cider and glass from your desk, you once again considered hiring a secretary.

                                            >Taking a sip from your drink, you chuckle to yourself

                                            >You bet that silly colt hasn't even read any Pranz Kalfka