>>41057802
>Be Anon
>Be listening to this shit
>Kid's a pretty good raconteur, if you do say so yourself
>'specially since he's managed to keep talking coherently while you're whupping him with your great grandma's flip flop
"Okay, so, you had to get outta Ponyville, dodged some mobs, almost had a villain breakdown, kinda fought it off yourself (good on you, kid)"
>"Yep- OW- Uh huh- OW"
"So, I'm assuming it was the dragon sitting on you plus the sandblasting that whitewashed my GOT-dang tanktrucktank?"
>"Ye- uh, nope!"
>Lord help you, this kid's trying your patience
>He might as well be t-posing
"So WHAT in the hell did!?"
>"We're not sure! We have it narrowed down to like, two things maybe?"
>Grrrrrrrrrr
>"Ha ha, uh, it was probably either us crashing into the Pensacolta paint thinner factory.... orrrrrrr..... uh...."
>His eyes are drawn to a river of digicam sludge pouring down the drain
>"Heh... ok it was DEFINITELY us crashing into the moonshine shed right before you started yelling about your truck."
>Moonshine shed? In this county?
>You grin like the Grinch for a moment
>Heh, maybe that's why he's called the GRINch

>Where the hell were those two glowmares? Ever Accurate and..... fucking Extreme Doormat?
>Seriously?
"Hey! Eve, Doormat!"
>"That's LIEUTENANT MAT to you, boy."
"Whatever- go check out the backyard, guy was probably making some crazy illegal-ass hooch!"
>Doormat sighs the sigh of a pony who knows she's about to have more work but has to try to get out of it anyway
>"How much, and how illegal, in your estimate?"
"Uhhhh.... my trucktanktruck was painted like a kickass forest green tiger before they smashed into one of the buildings. Now it's blindingly white... which is weird because that is NOT what the base material looks like."

>Be Doormat
>You and Eve share a positively Discordian grin as you turn your gaze upon the Burlap Bag Containing Bastard Beauregard
>"Oh, that is VERY interesting!"
"Very noteworthy indeed, I'm curious as to how that could be here, this close to a commercial food-packaging facility, without any safety installations!"
>"Not to mention licenses!"
"Indeed, Eve. You know, I was wondering how we'd actually keep him down despite the city's notoriously riotous character."
>"Yesyes! Luna was breathing down my PLOT for this, I was not looking forward to telling her how many loopholes I couldn't close!"
"Oh, I think she will be quite forgiving, especially since we might deliver unto her the thing she most wants: to Do Stuff."
>Beauregard screams in his usual burlap-stuffed, garbled manner
"One might assume that was a tirade of insults directed at thy sovereign, Sir. Yet, I am in a charitable mood, and will instead interpret your idiocy as a relevant question: what?"
>"Hehe I can answer that! Most ponies don't know this, but Princess Luna's technically the princess of weird ancient magical crud and adult drinks!"
"Technically, the title is "Stewardess of Old, Unhappy, Far Away Things and Bulwark Against All-Shaking Thunder"- it's a very, as in pre-Equestrian, old position- but one that still carries weight when it must."
>MMMMMMMMMPH!(What the buck does that have to do with me?)
>Evie gets the same Look as dame Twilight when the opportunity for a lecture arises
>Could they be related? No, never! Unless....
>"Quite simple, actually. You're illegally producing massive quantities of intense mind-altering substances and consuming them outside of a therapeutic context! The kind of hooch you're making here is...
>She sniffs the river of modern art and reels back with a squeal
>"HOOOOIE! I bet that stuff's harder than what Luna drank when she got all mopey and turned into Nightmare Moon!"

>"Oh I know how this ends, HA HA! Gonna get the mob bastard on tax law, ain't ya?"
"Ah, Anon, you're rather insightful, but not quite there. Evie, you're correct- even after Molly left us, I didn't need something half as strong as this to get through the day."
>"Ha! Wait-"
"Nopony cares about hard cider, nor those delightful brainmelter soda bottles we sometimes fish up from a Broken Bridge- this stuff, however?"
>You punctuate the statement with a hard look at Beauregard
"To answer your unspoken question, Anondiah, tis not a tax technicality I'll be getting him on- rather, Consorting with Demon-"
>"RUN, BEAU! I HATE YER GUTS BUT I DON'T CONSORT WITH THE AY-TEE-EFF!"
>You're interrupted by the sound of several bones cracking against your helmet, followed by an old green primate falling over
>Would've been a better show if he'd cut Beau's binds BEFORE he crippled himself
>At least he knows when he's bucked up- he's not trying to run, now, and has the good sense to look contrite
>Ah, Tartarus, you can't blame him for the same free spirit that burns within you
"Relax, citizen- nopony cares about the still or the.... I don't even know what that contraption is but it smells like a stolen star, yet no Constellation is missing a child. Serious, throat-burning hooch however... THAT is quite literally an alchemical method to summon demons."
>"What."
>You let him stew in your gaze for an appropriately embarrassing time before continuing
"It's poison water made of mold (the simplest form of entropy spirit) that either deadens your emotions or outright exacerbates negative emotions. A little demonology never hurt anypony, mind you- but this? What did you think severe alcoholism is?"
>MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!(I consume that recreationally and for the Southern Communion on holy days! You can't prove crap!)
"We do not need to. Even without a technicality, I have sufficient powers to-"
>"No, seriously, what?"
"-To carry out any orders I deem necessary, now that I have my proverbial hoof in the door from the owner's gross negligence in obtaining a demonologists' safety certification."
>Pause for effect
>Yes, she definitely gets it from somewhere
"For WE. ARE. PRINCESS LUNA."


>Be Doormat
>Actually, Be LUNA, the LEAST doormat of all ponies!
>You perform the Royal Magical Filly Transformation, as is tradition, and upon regaining thine royal countenance, smack thine hoof upon the ground thrice, also as is tradition
>Gazing down upon a now wet and smelly old blaggard, an awestruck civil servant, three very tired foals, a.... CANINUS LIBRARIUM? Does that mean-
>SWEET MEGAN, THAT GREEN FELLOW IS A HUMAN?
>You wrote it off as a linguistic coincidence, like how no matter where any alien is from, your nation somehow sounds like it's built upon puns related to beasts of burden!
>You must go see the Tree! She needs to know Her people didn't die out, post ha-
>You see Trixie, trying her very hardest to hide behind the massive wheel of this most glorious roving fortress
>Your.... descendant
>Your only flesh and blood
>Sorry Celestia, but you both know you're technically adopted
>All else can wait. Honestly, Megan most likely knew- that dog certainly wouldn't be smarter than most foals if he weren't under Her grace
>Not to mention alive at all, if the relevant census documents are accurate
>This matter must be dealt with. Now.

"Now, 'master' Beauregard-"
"Regarding the matters of your consorting with demons of Nightmare and Entropy, of leaving such libations in a dangerously accessible location, of leaving CONFLAGERANTS and NIGHTMAREIFYERS right next to a FOOD FACTORY for that matter! Of the accusations of arranging a fishing accident, of the suspicious circumstances regarding your regency of MY descendant's estate-"
>"Trixie say WHAAAAAAAAAT?"
"Have you anything to say in your defense, or will you simply take the dunce chair?"
>"The stills were Trixie's idea! I tried to stop her!"
>You facehoof
>With your fully-shod, Night Witch guard-armored leg
>Fortunately, a blue-black coat tends to hide black eyes
>Finally, with a sigh, you can respond:
"First: if they were Trixie's idea, that would prove her being unable to manage this estate-"
>"HA HA HA HA HA HA I GOT YOU NOW!"
"Finished? I wasn't- 'which means it's your fault still, for not stopping a legally incompetent mare.' You can't have it both ways. Also, we have the tax logs, pay stubs and testimony of your valet proving she absolutely was not managing the estate and was in fact convinced of her entire family being hangers-on of yours, so let's add 'giving false testimony' and 'lying to royalty.' Yes, that is a specific crime that can be added on top of lying to an officer, and yes, you really are that predictable."
>You wait a bit, letting him start to say something, before continuing
>The classic Big Sister power move, oh how you've longed to wield it!
"Second, if it were Trixie's doing, it would not be a crime. Yes, because she was born special you ninny- do you not understand what a KNIGHT is? Nor why it rhymes with NIGHT?"
>"Trixie is still caught up on the whole BEING FRIGGIN ROYALTY thing!?"

>>41092435
>Continue to be Luna
"Mm, no, not yet, not by a mile. You're barely seventeen, dear."
>Trixie stares at you, mouth primed for catching flies, then:
>"Trixie thought hereditary nobles were born noble?"
>What
>OH
>Right
"No, you ARE royalty. It's the, ah, 'frigging' aspect that must wait. And besides that, your suitor would be the one who is 'frigging royalty'"
>"Trixie still does not understand."
>Stars help you
>This mare is going to drive you straight back to the mooooooooon
>Wait
>Oh... Right....
>Ponies really don't know about that anymore
>There was an entire Arduous Quest about it
>Thinking of which, there was that LIVING RELIC, MASTER OF A MOVING FORTRESS, OWNER OF A COOL DOG you needed to look into
"N-nevermind. I fear I have taken literally what was meant as an expletive. Fear not, you are mine granddaughter, nothing shall change that."
>With that, you take your leave...
>Well, more of a turning around and bumping into the fellow you were looking for
>"Sorry, ma'am. Forgive me, not used to talking to folks in your position. Should, uh, probably finalize a few things so we can get to solving the famine?"
>Is he really one of them?
>You don't remember them having green skin, or a face that looks like..... nothing? A question mark?
>"Ma'am?"
>Take it all in- then look for breaks in the pattern, mayhap?
>Yes.
>Your sight does not fail you now
>You still can't *see* it, but some other sense hints at what this glamour is trying to hide
>A cross around his neck, the grip of that pistol, the Presence that is both comforting and unsettling
>He's in his golden years, too
>You can't let him work to death
>Shit. Say something!
"Sir, you need not trouble yourself any longer, providing the Crown may have access to your fields."
>"Buh-"
"Your wisdom and forbearance have put Equestria on the road to salvation- I will not have you harm yourself doing work best saved for the young."
>"But I-"
"No buts. Consider yourself appointed the Minister of Agriculture. You'll have plenty to do, if idleness be your fear?"
>He considers this, a long while
>"Well, alright- but to start off with, I can drive that command center better than a bunch of foals. Gonna need something for long-hauls while we're short on flyers, right?"
"A sound plan, I suppose. I suspect we all could do with a smooth ride to Ponyville?"
>The Fat One raiseth his hoof!
"Yes, Snips?"
>"Uh... Isn't Ponyville currently going gonzo-bonkers under the reign of a cheesed off teacher drunk on dark magic?"
".....nnnnnno?"
>"What?"
"What dost thou mean, 'what?' Did you not- ah, right, no mail means no papers. Ponyville is fine."
>"WHAT!? HOW?"
"Dame Derpy got into a sack of red sugar left on the ground, then pummeled Cheerilee into taco sauce demanding to know where Dinky was."
>"Huh. Yeah, that sounds like Miss Derpy alright... wait how do you know that? Your guys have been here for days, you were in Canterlot then flew straight here..."
>Really?
***
"I'm psychic. LITERALLY psychic. Plus the Elements tell me things sometimes."
>"What, like Twilight?"
"No, I mean the Elements themselves, it's- nevermind. Things of a princessly bearing, nothing with which you need concern yourself."

>Enough dawdling!
>Somehow sensing your need, Ever Accurate deploys a tactical soapbox for your use
"Hear me! Get those beets into the refinery! Master Miller, ensure your conveyance is fit for the journey home! Trixie!"
>"Yes?"
"Come and sit with grandma! I shall show you THINGS!"
>She seems uncertain- for the first time in your experience, her facade is gone
>"If it's all the same to you, granny, I'd rather get this done faster. We can talk on the way back."
>A single tear of Mare Pride falls from your left eye
>That filly's alright


>Afewdayslater.ogg
>Be Trixie
>Be hoofing out emergency rations in Ponyville
>Ponies are distrustful of you, even with Luna's advocacy
>Honestly, it's kind of refreshing?
>Be really weird and hurtful if they were all suddenly kissing your plot in the hopes of free stuff or tax breaks
>The line moves slowly throughout the day
>Sometimes a pegasus gets pulled aside by Derpy, a fancy postal hat shoved onto their head
>Meanwhile Anon pulls aside any earth pony without too many visible ribs, to learn the magic of corn spinning or whatever he called it
>Quite often he has to flash his spiffy Ministry badge, but they listen eventually
>Eventually, an Applejack!
>"TRIXIE! AH FOUIND IT!"
"Hu- Oh, yes, Trixie thanks you but-"
>"But what? Ya don't get it- this goes deeper than jus' you an' us!"
"Trixie already knows. It was her uncle, he had manipulated events to his own gain, not hard to assume he also spread those rumors."
>"What? No! It was Spike!"
>What.
"What."
>"Yep! Turns out, HE was the one who was REALLY set on you punching a bear! Guess he started slanderin' yer name to protect his own. Woulda worked too, if not fer yer surprising ability to be civil once in your life!"
"Hey!"
>"Hay's for breakfast. Look, let's not beat around the bush: you're a pill to most folks. An' not the chewable vitamin kind, no ma'am, you're the big kinda pill what goes in the wrong end. BUT, you're alright where it counts.....
"So alright that Trixie won't have you publicly smacked with a clown shoe for mean mean words against a new princess?"
>Jack of Apples's face does a scrunch
>"Ah. Heh... heh.... I was hoping?"
"So, what are they gonna do to Spike?"
>"Five minutes trapped in a room with a dozen Pinkie Pie clones. And a nu-metal polka record."
>Eugh. Even at your worst, you'd never-
>Curse your bleeding heart! You feel... THE SYMPATHY!
"Take over for Trixie. She has a gross overreach of noble privilege to prevent."
>"Sure."

Da End? Maybe.