The Liar

by ChoppersTopHat

Rating: everyone
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Trixie, Adventure
Length: 5534

Who IS Trixie? A marvelous mare of mysterious magic? Or a flippant, flimflamming, fantastic fraud?

The magician's art lies in the act of misdirection. This is true even in a world where magic exists. Trixie has mastered the art, but how much of her act is true magic, and how much is an illusion? And what if that same question applies to her entire life?

Discover the truth about Equestria's most Great and Powerful showpony, in a story told in a most unconventional manner...

Published 2012-02-14 14:14:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-14 14:14:01 UTC

The Liar

As the town vanished in the distance behind her, Twilight Sparkle's voice echoed in the back of Trixie's mind. "Just let her go. Maybe someday she'll learn her lesson." Trixie chuckled to herself. It had worked. She had seen what she needed to see. Now all she had to do was report back...to her.

"Damn!" she thought. "I set off the smoke bomb too early. They'll see me running away now." It was too late to stop now, so she continued to gallop. It would only be a minute before she was outside Ponyville. The mistake with the smoke bomb didn't matter, she decided. The townies were all so mad at her. There was no way they could have suspected.

It was an astounding display of magical power. Perhaps only one unicorn of her age in a thousand could vanquish an Usra Minor, yet there stood Twilight Sparkle, on the cusp of doing just that. Well, "vanquish" was probably the wrong word. "Placate" was more like it. This, Trixie realized, was Twilight's true power. Who else would have thought of that? Who else would have used kindness and understanding to stop a rampaging beast? She remembered the words she had heard years earlier: "the center gem of the Elements has no power on its own. Only where the other five meet, can the element of Magic thrive." Now she understood why she was here.

An Ursa. Those two morons had brought an Ursa here. Trixie had to think fast. Maybe there was someone in town who could take care of the creature? Maybe if she stalled the creature...There were still some residual fumes in the air from the afternoon; not a lot, but maybe enough to produce some sort of effect, something that could stall it until help arrived. Trixie concentrated. Her horn lit up.

The evening brought with it the usual calm, so Trixie set down her wagon somewhere near the middle of Ponyville and prepared for bed. As she thought back on her performance, Trixie was at a loss to figure out why her master had sent her here. Her explanation, while pacifying, had been vague at best. It had been a typical small-town crowd. They oohed and ahhed, and then booed and hissed, just as well as anypony else. Sure, that rainbow-haired pegasus had impressed her with that windmill trick of hers. But flying of that caliber, while impressive, was far from unheard of. What made Ponyville such a big deal? Trixie finished brushing her mane. She had to look her best for the next day, and the second half of her act. She'd learned years earlier that looks were key to the second half: the prettier you are, the more they pity you.

Everything was in place. The fireworks were on a slow-burn fuse and should go off right as she announced her name. The colored smoke would soon follow. The flowers were already ground up, and the vents were running. None of the assembled rubes had any idea what was in the air they were breathing. Somehow that little fact always amused her the most. She pressed the switch to collapse the stage, and began her usual spiel. The colored smoke went off right on cue, making it appear as though she had magically appeared on stage. But the fireworks were late this time (she'd been meaning to have a talk with her supplier) forcing Trixie to improvise some brainless patter about how her feats were the greatest ever witnessed by pony eyes. "My my my!" she heard a prissy unicorn in the audience say. "Such boasting!" Trixie did her best to contain her amusement. They were making this far too easy.

"I was on my way to Whinneysota," Trixie said. "And now you want me to go to Ponyville? That nowhere town? What's in there that's so important? It's completely out of my way!" Trixie's master was not one to tolerate defiance. In all the years since Trixie had begun her act, she had never once questioned an order. But she saw Trixie's display for what it was: a simple act of curiosity, not insubordination. Trixie would do as she was told –she always did-- but for the first time, she wanted to know why. So she told her.

"I'm so sorry! I've acted so arrogantly toward you all! Thank you, Azure Charm, for showing me the error of my ways!" Trixie looked at the unicorn who had just bested her with tearful eyes. "I just...ever since I was little, I had to brag and boast just to scare away those who..who wanted to hurt me. It's the only way I've gotten by in this lonely world..." Trixie hung her head low. On the outside, she was crying. On the inside, she was laughing; but a part of her genuinely hurt, too. This was, she found, the secret to the art of lying: always mix in a little bit of the truth. As she kept her eyes closed in a display of mock shame, she heard a pony in the crowd whimper sympathetically, and then the jingle of coins. Success.

"Ah, yes, that," said Trixie, flattered that her master approved of her. "It's simple, really. Before every performance, I take a small batch of Poison Joke, burn it, and vent the fumes outward, so the crowd is breathing it in. The fumes are colorless and odorless, so they don't even know that it's there. They have no idea that it's the prank-playing flower that's messing up their attempts to upstage me. I just wave my hooves when the Poison Joke begins to kick in, light up my horn, and they all think I did it. It's clever, is it not?" Her master disagreed: she insisted that it wasn't just clever, it was brilliant. Trixie's heart soared. At that moment, she wanted more than anything to hug her...if only that were possible.

"Trixie? I've been watching your progress, my dear." The unmistakable voice of Trixie's master– barely louder than a whisper, yet capable of echoing for miles – filled the blue unicorn's cart. That dark, moonless night was the first time Trixie had spoken to her master since she had begun performing. It had been half a year; Trixie was overjoyed to hear from her again. "This little game you have going is indeed clever. There is one thing I have been wondering, however...how do you defeat the townsfolk who step onstage to challenge you?"

This was it. All the months of planning, of rehearsing, of perfecting her caricatured "great and powerful" stage persona: all of them would have been for nothing if she couldn't pull this off. It was her very first performance. Trixie took a deep breath and began her introduction. "PRESENTING...THE INCREDIBLE MAGICAL FEATS OF...THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!" The curtain opened to reveal Trixie, draped in the finery of her newly-purchased robe and hat. Her appearance was heralded by...somepony in the audience coughing. From the others, dead silence. Trixie made a mental note: she needed to work on her entrance. Perhaps something with fireworks?

"I CAN do this!" said Trixie, more determined than she'd ever been in her life. "Listen, you know me: I'm not exactly talented. I'm weak, even for a unicorn. I'm not particularly bright. I'm, frankly, more than a bit lazy. And my magic...well, we both know about my magic. But there's one thing I can do better than anypony in all of Equestria: I can lie." Once again, Trixie's master laughed: but this time, it was a laugh of approval, the type one shared with a respected student. She knew then that she had chosen well.

"THIS is your plan? Oh, Trixie, you know I never expected much from you, but..Do you really think you can do this?" asked the master. "Just because I have taken you as my own does not mean I think you talented or clever. On the contrary: it is your pathetic despair which interests me. But you knew that when you agreed to be mine. So I ask you: of all ponies, what makes you think YOU can do this?"

Trixie was thrilled. Finally, she was going to go out and may her way in the world. After all these years, her master had given her permission. Assuming, of course, that Trixie could convince her that her plan was a sound one. Trixie began to explain. "It's actually quite simple, mistress. I will pose as a wandering magician, going from town to town. In each town I will issue a challenge to the locals, asking them to come onstage and try to outperform me. After I defeat them -- and don't worry, I have a plan for that -- I will insult and mock them all before ending the show. Then I do another show in the same town the following day, letting the rubes stew in their juices for a night. In the meantime, the ponies will have rounded up the local magic master to show me up. She'll challenge me. We'll 'fight.' I'll 'lose,' and then I'll tearfully apologize for my arrogance, pouring my heart out over how very, very sorry I am to have been so mean, and how sad and pathetic my childhood was, and how much I appreciate those local ponies for bringing me to my senses. And then, when they think I'm at my lowest point, I'll hold out my hat. And the tips will fall like rain. No one gives to performers out of respect, after all. They do it out of pity, and to feel the sense of superiority that comes with it. That's what I'll do, mistress. I'll exploit their arrogance, by pretending to embody it myself. So....what do you think?" For a moment, her mistress said nothing. And then, finally, she let out a cruel, derisive laugh. Trixie's heart sank.

"Very well, then. I...acknowledge this failing in you." Trixie beamed at her master's words. "Now, since this is your last day with me, you shall tell me of your future plans."

"Love is an alien concept to me, child," said the mistress. "I cannot feel it. And for that I am quite grateful. It is a mental illness you ponies have been afflicted with for far too long. One day, I shall destroy it. It will be torn from the heart of every pony. Even you." Trixie did not reply, and did not need to, for her eyes spoke volumes. They said clearly: I don't care. I stand by my words.

"Before I tell you my plan," said Trixie, after getting back to her legs, "I have to say something. I feel that, since I'm leaving after all these years, it's appropriate I tell you how I feel. Every day, you mock me. You insult me. You work me until I am ready to pass out. You treat me as a disgusting animal. But...but you took me in, and you acknowledged me, and gave me a home. A real home, when all I'd ever known were false ones. You alone have never lied to me. And that is more kindness than anyone has ever shown me. To me, you are like a mother." As she spoke these words, Trixie felt as if she was speaking with total honesty for the first time in many years. "I love you."

"So we have an agreement," said the master. "You shall be free to roam the world as you wish, living by your wits once more. But, you are forever mine, and when called upon, you will do what I ask of you, no matter what it may be, no matter what terrible ends it may lead to." Trixie bowed, a gesture of full agreement. The master had never doubted her response.

Years passed. The little blue unicorn grew. She went from ragged and frumpy to beautiful. She was never paid for her work, but managed to con travelers who passed by out of enough coins to afford a comb for her mane and the occasional good meal outside the castle. Her master rarely spoke to her, but she was always nearby. Always watching, as Trixie worked her hooves to the bone scrubbing the castle's thousand rooms. Some ponies would consider this level of supervision to be highly uncomfortable. Trixie loved it. It meant she was never alone.

"What? I didn't see any liv-" Trixie thought back on the poor, emaciated ponies she had seen chained up in the castle dungeons. The ones who carried the look in their eyes of total despair, of ruined dreams and dead hopes. "Oh. Yes, of course."

"This is your home now, until such time as I decide it is not," said the master. "You shall clean this place. You shall watch for intruders. When told to, you shall feed the livestock."

The building standing before Trixie looked like a mountain made of polished obsidian. Her master had told her that it was three times the size of Princess Celestia's castle, yet hidden by powerful magics so that no pony could perceive it unless the master wished it. "To the extent that I have one...this is my home," said the master. "Welcome to the Midnight Castle."

"Yes," said Trixie. There was no hesitation in her voice. "From this day forward, I will serve you."

"Kind? You think I did this out of kindness? Do you honestly think I care if you live or die? I have watched over you for one reason only: Suffering. You have endured it all your life, and that naturally drew me to you. You understand it as few ponies do, and I have fed off your pain for almost as long. I wish to continue doing so. Your misery, combined with your stubborn pride, make for a most refreshing concoction." The voice paused, as if savoring Trixie's sudden fear. "I offer you a choice: I shall become your master. You shall serve me. You shall know safety and sanctuary. You shall know what it is to eat every day. But you shall never know friendship, and you shall never know happiness. Not that you have much chance of finding those now. Refuse, and I shall leave you to the mercy of the world. I shall never trouble you again; such is my mercy. Well then, Trixie, are you willing to become my servant?"

The rain was pouring harder now. Trixie opened her eyes. Before her lay the corpses of the four ponies who moments before seemed intent on trampling her to death. Their shouts of 'no more lies' and 'get the thief' had gone silent. The anger in their eyes had been replaced by a profound emptiness. They looked like they had died of pure fear. Small drops of water slid down their motionless faces. And then from their bodies rose the black, shining mist. She recognized it instantly. "Th...thank you!" Trixie said, once she got over her shock. It occurred to her that she had never thanked anyone before. No one had ever given her a reason to. "You...you saved me! It was so kind of you to..thank you! Thank you..." It felt oddly good to say those words.

So she stole. An apple here. A carrot there. Never enough that anypony would notice, so so she hoped. And she lied. She told ponies she was the daughter of one of Equestria's richest nobles, and if they just gave her a little money to take the ferry home they would be rewarded ten times over. She told ponies about "amazing investment opportunities" which she made up on-the-fly. Sometimes, she would simply go up to a strange pony, look them in the eye, and say "I saw what you did." It was amazing how often that resulted in quick money. Trixie began to think she could handle life on the streets. Hoofington was a big city, after all; certainly no one would ever catch on to her little scams as long as she kept moving. She began to see other ponies as more than just tormentors and cruel bullies: they were means to an end. They were gullible sources of money and food. They were marks.

It been a week since she had eaten. Living on the streets was tougher than she'd thought. But being alone was worse. It was strange; Trixie thought she had been alone before. But she had no idea. At least in the orphanage, where the daily mockery and insults had driven her to misery, there had been ponies who had noticed her. Out here in the streets, she had no one. Nothing but crowded walkways full of ponies she didn't know. The faces, manes, cutie marks, may as well have all been the same. Yes...they were all the same. Not one could be trusted. She had learned that lesson well, after Snowbank. If she was to survive, she would have to take from them, just like they would take from her if given the chance. In that moment, Trixie saw a small wisp of dark mist fly by for just a moment. She had seen it before.

She understood now what her cutie mark meant. The magic wand, and the crescent moon shape...such a strange combination. Wands were the stuff of folklore and pony tales...no real magician used them. Why would they, when they had their horns? And the moon...a crescent. A beautiful shape, which the moon never actually took. Crescent moons were just a trick of the light, after all. An illusion. A lie. Once she realized that, she understood her cutie mark, and herself, perfectly.

She got up on her own, turned away from the small crowd, and walked into the city alone. She left with her head held high. "A liar to the end," she thought to herself.

Just then, her eyes met those of another unicorn. Alone among the hateful crowd, this pony seemed sad to see Trixie go. Trixie looked into the pony's eyes and saw the depth of her pity. It then occurred to her: this one alone had never teased her, never tried to hurt her. She had always left Trixie by herself, and, in fact, both of them were always by themselves. The others never made fun of this other lonely mare, but they never spoke to her, either. They were both outcasts...the other unicorn took a step toward Trixie. She reached down, perhaps to help her up...and Trixie spit in her face. The unicorn stepped back, as if something inside her had just broken. She shook her head in disbelief, and ran back into the orphanage, crying. "Good," thought Trixie. "Don't trust. Never again. Friendship is weakness."

"Trash!" shouted Trixie as the small crowd of ponies stared down at her. "You're all trash! Every last one of you! I'm...I'm glad you threw me out! I was sick of that dump anyway! I don't need you! I don't need anyone!"

"Even after all this, you still have the audacity to lie to us," said the headmistress. "This is the end, Trixie. I'm sorry but you've left me no choice. You are hereby expelled from Mercy Mane House." Trixie didn't look at her. She looked at Snowbank. But the moment she did, he turned away, feigning disgust. It was then that Trixie began to scream.

The ponies gathered around her as she lay there on the ground. A circle of ponies stood before her, their gaze stabbing like countless tiny needles. They had never liked her. But this was the first time she saw real hatred in their eyes. "I didn't...I didn't do anything. I swear! I promise I didn't hurt her! I...I don't have any magic! I'm completely powerless! All I can do is make my horn glow for a second! Please..." she could already tell it wouldn't work. The other ponies scoffed and shook their heads. Just another lie, they were no doubt thinking. Trixie kept trying anyway, her voice trailing away... "please...I didn't...I promise I didn't....they're just trying to frame me, to get me kicked out of here....I never...I know I'm no good, but I would never hurt...please...I didn't..." It took her a moment to realize she was talking in circles. Just then, the crowd parted, and the headmistress stepped forward.

The word spread throughout the orphanage as fast as lightning...someone had beat up Peach Blossom. The fun, sociable pony who was everyone's favorite. Some of the boys found her unconscious, covered in wounds and bruises. And the strangest part? Peach, an Earth Pony, was hovering ten feet above the ground when they found her. The chatter spread further: who would do such a thing? Someone who was jealous of her popularity, no doubt. And someone with enough magic to set up a self-repeating hovering spell. That's serious magic. Naturally, only a unicorn could have done it. And who's that little unicorn who nobody likes, and who's always going on about how amazing her magic is? Of course. Of course it was her! Where is she? By herself again, of course. Find her. Make her sorry. Make her pay. This is the last straw.

Trixie nestled down in her bed, happier than she'd ever been. For the first time in her life, she had somepony to look forward to seeing the next day. She'd always admired Snowbank from afar, but she never imagined the handsome, pure white unicorn would actually come up and talk to her. And tell her she was pretty. And spend time listening to her. He was the most gorgeous pony in the entire orphanage, and today, he had spent time with her. She giggled into her pillow.

"Wow!" said Peach Blossom as the false bruises appeared magically all over her body. "You're so talented! I had no idea you could do magic like this!" Snowbank said nothing; he needed to concentrate so he could lift her up into the air. This was working out better than he'd hoped. The other ponies would see him as a hero for getting that annoying little bragger kicked out, and he'd finally be the most powerful unicorn in the orphanage. Pretending to like Trixie for all that time would be worth it. Snowbank smiled at Peach Blossom. She blushed.

Trixie was the probably the last of the orphans to notice that she had gotten her cutie mark. She certainly hadn't been concerned with getting one. But there it was: a magic wand in front of a crescent moon. For a fleeting moment, she thought this might make her more popular with the others. Of course, it did just the opposite; only one other pony at the orphanage had a cutie mark, and the jealousy of the others made the teasing even worse. Suddenly "cast-off" and "reject" weren't good enough insults anymore. "Moon butt," despite its redundancy, became a favorite insult. The children would find excuses to trip her, or to take her food and play innocent. Trixie would retaliate in her typical manner, with boasts, stories, and con games. The usual back and forth swiftly escalated into something approaching a war. Then one day, while Trixie was reading alone, another unicorn approached her. "Hi!" said the only other orphan with a cutie mark. "I'm Snowbank!"

Trixie's solitude left her with a lot of free time, so she would read books on magic, for all the good it did her. It was less out of intellectual curiosity and more to fill the time, but it did produce some interesting information. And when she was sure no one was looking, she would scour the orphanage library -- tiny though it was -- for any mention of a sparkling black mist. She had seen it, she knew she had. She had to know what it was. During her years at Mercy Mane House, she read every book they had three times over. And yet she still found herself checking, over and over again, looking for any information on the black mist. Maybe she had missed something. She must have. It couldn't have been her imagination.

Days blended into weeks, which vanished into months, and then years. Life in the orphanage settled into a somewhat comfortable rhythm. Trixie kept her distance from the other ponies, kept to herself. She rarely spoke to anyone unless spoken to. When someone did speak to her, it was almost always to make her a target. The usual insults rained down upon her, but she would retaliate in her own way: by telling tales of her own amazing accomplishments as a magician. Nopony believed her, of course, but that was fine. They didn't need to believe the parts about taming a chimera or traveling through time. They just had to believe her when she said she was the most powerful unicorn they had ever seen, and if they pushed her too far, one day she would wreak a terrible magical vengeance. It was usually enough to get them to leave her alone. But each time she had to make the tales taller, and the deeds grander. Each time the lie got a little bigger. Each time the other ponies grew less and less patient with her. Each time, Trixie became a little more afraid of them.

The orphans stared down the newcomer. The headmistress introduced her, and explained Trixie's situation to the group, then left them alone to get aquainted. Trixie, having lost so much in so little time, didn't feel like making new friends. When they asked questions, she looked away and spoke softly. Finally, one of them asked how her parents died. "Oh, my parents are still alive," she answered truthfully. "Well, my dad any-" A moment later she felt a powerful kick to her chest and was on the ground. The other ponies just walked away, with looks of contempt on their faces. She realized her mistake: every other pony there had lost their parents. That trauma united them. But Trixie had never experienced that loss, at least not the way they had. She knew even then, deep down, that she would never be one of them. The next day, the teasing began. The headmistress, who had seemed so kind the night before, never even tried to intervene. She saw it all as kids being kids. Trixie realized the mistake she had made in trusting her.

The dark mist swirled all around her then, as she sat there all alone on the doorstep of the orphanage. In her utter despair, she almost felt like she had called it somehow. It seemed to whisper her name to her, laugh cruelly, and envelop her, both physically and spiritually. For the first time, Trixie looked directly into it, and what she saw was blinding. Logically, the concept of blinding darkness made no sense, yet there was no other way to describe it: it was darkness so profound, so substantial, that it physically hurt her eyes. Yet Trixie couldn't look away. And she didn't want to. Suddenly, the mist vanished as the door to the orphnage sung open, and Trixie turned to see the headmistress, and suddenly Trixie was begging her to let her stay there, and the headmistress was moved to tears, and Trixie was let in where it was warm, and deep down, she felt a strange feeling of pride. She had never told a lie before. But when the headmistress asked where her parents were, she had told her they had abandoned her. The lie had saved her.

That night, Trixie left. She packed no food or money, brought nothing with her. She was far too angry to do any planning. Enough was enough. She would not tell her father goodbye. She would not write him a letter or leave any sign of her departure. He wouldn't care anyway. She would simply leave. She waited until everyone was asleep. Then she simply walked out the door, as if she were going for a walk. No one was awake to try and stop her. She wondered if anyone would have bothered anyway.

The wisp of dark mist danced through the air, unseen by anyone, even Trixie. As the shouting continued, the mist laughed soundlessly to herself. This room was a veritable feast. The anger, the misery, the sadness which filled the air...it fed her, kept her strong and alive, as it had for millenia. She had been watching this little unicorn for some time, as she had watched many, but she had not seen one with such potential for corruption in a thousand years. Not since she had possessed Luna. Perhaps, one day soon, she would give Luna the power to break free, but that was for another day. For now, she was content to cultivate the sadness within this child's heart. She might just make a suitable protege, a fitting pawn to prepare for the day when all of Equestria lay steeped in the depths of total misery and hopelessness. The day the land became an eternal feast for her, the entity known as Night Mare. The bodiless creature cackled at the thought. Trixie had just run into her room sobbing. Her despair was like fine wine.

"A WASTE! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE!" shouted Trixie's father, more angry than she had ever seen him. "A WASTE OF YEARS OF MY LIFE! A WASTE OF THE MARELIN FAMILY NAME! A WASTE OF A UNICORN!" Every word stabbed Trixie in the heart, but what was worse was what towered behind him. The portrait of Trixie's mother, those ice-cold blue eyes looking right into her from someplace beyond the living world. And then, as if to punctuate things, her father said exactly what Trixie had been thinking. "Your mother died for NOTHING! She died giving birth to a piece of TRASH!" Trixie had thought this horrible thought herself dozens of times. But to hear it coming from him...without a single word, she turned and ran into her room sobbing. She had made up her mind. Enough was enough.

"We've concluded the tests, and, well...." the unicorn wizard shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Marelin. I truly am. But your daughter does not have a shred of true magical talent. The extent of her ability is to make her horn light up, and even that takes her a great deal of strain. Perhaps, if she practices for years, she might be able to lift small objects, but she'll never be able to do anything beyond that. It's no fault of yours, of course. She is simply the one unicorn in ten thousand born without any real magic. Sheer bad luck, nothing more..." Trixie's father did not raise his voice. He thanked the specialist for his time, paid him, and showed him out. Only after the wizard left did it begin. Mr. Marelin called for his daughter.

There had to be a reason, her father kept saying. Year after year, ever since she was a little foal, he had tried to get her to display some amount of magical power, no matter how small. And year after year, she had disappointed him. There had to be a reason why her magic didn't work. Something Trixie was doing wrong. Yes, it had to be her fault. The Marelin family was the most prestigious family of magicians in the entire city of Hoofington. Their magic was always exceptionally powerful. No, said Trixie's father, this had to be Trixie's fault. She was lazy, shiftless, stupid. She had to try harder. She had to honor her mother, who died to give birth to the most powerful magician in Equestria. "Are you going to make it all for nothing, Trixie?" he would say. "Are you going to let her down?"

Trixie, the only daughter of the Marelin family of unicorn wizards, sat alone in her room, pouring over books of magic. The little unicorn had failed again today. It was her third test of basic magic, and she'd failed to even make a feather levitate. Her father was beginning to think something was wrong with her. No, she thought, I'll show him... For a moment, she let doubt enter her mind, and in that instance, she could have sworn she saw a dark..something...just out of her field of vision. Something like a puff of smoke or a cloud...this was the third time she had seen it. No, it was nothing, she told herself. And even if it was, there was no time to worry about that. She had to study. She would show her father, show everyone, how talented she was. She would pass her next test, and then her father would be proud of her, and he'd let her go to a normal school, and she'd make friends, many, many friends, and they would all love her. She was sure of it. Everyone in Equestria would say, "there goes Trixie! Everyone loves her and everyone wants to be her friend, and she's never lonely and no one ever calls her a disappointment, and her mommy in Pony Heaven is proud of her, and she's not sorry she had her! She's not! Because Trixie is so great! So great and powerful!"

THE LIAR

By: Chopper's Top Hat