Desperate Attention Seeker Attempts Murder of Twilight Sparkle!

Our trusted sources in Ponyville have reported to us the attempts of Trixie Lulamoon to murder the Element of Magic, and destroy the Elements of Harmony!

Yesterday, Trixie arrived in Ponyville wearing the powerful evil amulet, once worn by Nightmare Moon herself, and attempted to murder Twilight Sparkle! Spectators report her challenging Celestia’s pupil to a magic duel. Before she could respond, Trixie attacked with a cheap shot, nearly killing the mare!

“She just showed up out of nowhere and flung a bladed weapon at her,” an unnamed member of the Ponyville weather team, who asked to remain anonymous, stated. “It caught Twilight off guard, slicing her leg open. I’d have knocked Trixie out myself in ten seconds flat but she cursed my wings!”

After the short duel, Twilight surrendered to her mercy to save the town of Ponyville. With the Element of Magic grovelling at her feet, she prepared to murder her before a heroic nearby unicorn teleported Twilight out of town! Trixie lowered a dome of the town and swore to kill one unicorn every hour until Twilight returned to face death by hanging!

Trixie threw the newspaper onto the ground and fired up her horn, incinerating it. This wasn’t the first time the Equestrian News had slandered her. She had filed complaints against the newspaper before, but the princesses had ignored her requests.

“This one is on the house,” Donut Joe stated. He set down a cup of coffee and took away the empty cup.

“Thanks,” she mumbled under her breath. There was half a glazed donut left and it was ten in the morning on a Tuesday. Most ponies were at work. Most ponies still had a job, and hadn’t been laughed out of their hometown. She laid her head down on the table with a thump and groaned. Part of the reason she couldn’t find work, let alone pursue her dreams of being a stage musician, was due to the constant personal attacks on her character.

Joe walked back over. “You okay Trixie? I hate to see a pony like this. You want me to keep ya company while you wait to lodge another complaint?”

“No, what’s the use?” she asked. “If Celestia could have done something she would have. Freedom of the press and all that jazz.”

“Then at least accept my offer, you can run the shop for me part time until this all blows over.”

Without lifting her head off the table she gave a short, cruel laugh. “Blow over? First it was Trixie Sends her Pet Ursa Major to Destroy Ponyville! It was an Ursa Minor, but regardless, that was two colts! Then, Trixie Helps Flim and Flam Scam Dodge Junction! Or, my personal favorite, The Trixie & Iron Will Love Affair, and how They Turned Fluttershy Into Their Latest Victim!”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Joe offered. He put a hoof on her shoulder when he saw her trembling.

“No!” Trixie sat upright and shouted. “No matter how hard I try, they just assume I’m a horrible mare without getting to know me! One entity shouldn’t have so much power to decide who is right and who is wrong, to judge a pony based on third-hoof accounts and rumors!”

Trixie levitated a flask out of her saddlebag and unscrewed the lid. She upturned the bottle, pouring a strong Griffin whiskey into the coffee.

Joe stepped back and looked on in shock. “Come on, it’s only ten in the morning, Trixie.”

Trixie grunted. “Don’t remind me.” She upturned the cup of coffee, letting it burn on the way down her throat. Sometimes it seemed like pain was the only emotion she could still feel, the only one she could control. The words of others continued to cut her deeply in a vicious cycle that left her unwilling to venture further than a block from her apartment on a good day.

Joe shook his head and went back towards his kitchen to check on the next batch of donuts. Once he was out of sight, Trixie took a deep breath and held it. She drank the rest of the whiskey in a few gulps. She choked back her reflex to vomit as the burning liquid spread through her stomach.

Trixie flung two bits on the table and trotted out towards her apartment. Already her anger and rage were being soothed by the alcohol, but she knew it was only temporary. A few hours from now she’d be back at Donut Joe’s for lunch. Once again, he’d insist on returning her two bits, and she’d insist on paying for her meals.

The sun was blistering hot today and there were no clouds scheduled today. It was a good day to fall asleep for a day or two in the hopes tomorrow would be better. Fate had different plans for Trixie, who found herself stumbling into an alleyway to vomit. Her stomach contracted, spewing out the whiskey she had drank too quickly.

She slumped down in the shade to escape the heat and began to cry. Whiskey, unlike donuts, were something she actually had to pay for. If she could afford whiskey without Donut Joe’s charity, she wouldn’t be crying over a little spilt liquor. “Another day of sobriety to look forward to, yay,” she droned.

“Here’s your table, sir,” a waiter said.

Trixie turned her head towards the entrance to the alleyway. There was a small potted plant and a cafe, the wall of which she was now leaning against.

“So, you heard about the front page tomorrow?” a woman asked.

“Of course, it’s been a slow news week so the Daily News for tomorrow has already been chosen,” he replied.

“Slow news week? So what is it this time? The conspiracy theories that Celestia is grooming unicorns to turn into Alicorns? That Fluttershy is euthanizing sick fillies in the Ponyville cancer ward?” she asked.

“I wish,” he said. “We’re running another story on Trixie.”

This caused both ears on Trixie’s head to stand up, swiveling to listen to the stallions voice.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. You’re just one pony, let the reporters worry about the quality of the article.”

“That’s just it,” he replied. “They’ve sent me to several of her shows for research. I’ve never seen such a talentless unicorn. You know she had at least a dozen fillies as fans in Ponyville? I don’t know how they could be that stupid! An Earth Pony could do half her tricks.”

Trixie found herself repressing the urge to jump out and cast a spell to cause all his hair to fall out. Her heart began to beat quickly as she felt anger and the leftovers of her Griffish Whiskey rising in the back of her throat.

“Don’t beat yourself up honey, I’m sure she tries hard,” she said.

“That’s just it, though. She is constantly boasting and bragging, wanting everyone to believe she’s the end-all of everything magical. It’s our job as a respected newspaper to report the news, unbiased, and we have to let everypony know what a fraud she is.”

“You make it sound like a tabloid, but I suppose if it keeps anymore Buffalo falling for her Instant Apple Pie in a Can scam, it’s worth it. I can’t believe they let the Flim Flam brothers and her off so easy.”

Trixie felt something crack and realized she had been digging her hoof into the ground, to the point the nail had split. The twinge of pain traveled up her leg, the sharp needle of sensation burrowing into the soft frog at the bottom of her hoof. She pushed on it harder and whimpered.

“It’s a full time job, that’s for sure. Just last week we ran that article on Rarity sleeping with Filthy Rich to get a new store opened.”

Trixie tuned them out now that they had finally changed the subject. It made her so angry that a so called news organization would play god to slander and discourage honest ponies working hard to make a life for themselves.

It wasn’t just about her career, which had been dead for months now. This had become about ponies like Fluttershy, who had offered her a place to stay even if she had denied it. Rarity, who after the alicorn amulet offered to replace her tattered cape and hat. Even Twilight had been understanding that the amulet was cursed, and that Trixie had let jealousy lead her such a despicable means of revenge.

Somepony needed to do something about the Equestrian News before they slandered more ponies. A message needed to be sent, a line drawn; this far, no further.

Trixie waited patiently until the couple finished their brunch and got up to leave. She lifted her splintered hoof off the ground, grimacing at the pain. A few drops of blood trickled out before she had fused the hoof back together with her magic.

The couple got up to leave, and with her sore hoof Trixie got up and followed them. She grabbed their tip in her magic and slid the four bits into her saddlebag. It was enough for another flask of whiskey, or a couple meals from Joe.

The stallion was a pegasus and though she did not know his name, she found herself thinking of ways to intimidate him. She could cast a spell gluing his wings to his side. It would cause him to require his feathers be plucked, or his skin removed, to fix. She could easily tie him up and rob him to send a message. The main problem, though, was he would see her face.

What good was threatening a newspaper to stop their slander, if everypony would immediately know it was her? Any attempt to expose their hypocrisy would just lead all ponies eyes back to Trixie, validating all the hateful things they wrote about.

There was only one way to send them a clear message. It would require modifying some of her stage spells, and she swore to herself it would only happen once. The newspaper would be sure to step down from their soap box.

* * * * * * * *

Night had fallen and Trixie had prepared everything she would need in her saddlebags. She had used her magic to change her tail and mane color, and was wearing a black jogging suit as if it were not ninety degrees outside. Trixie had returned to the apartment of the pegasus who was helping spread slander and hatred.

His apartment was four stories, and she found his name on the intercom downstairs. It only took a couple minutes to get up to his floor of the apartment. She stopped in the stairwell to catch her breath.

Are we really doing this?

“It needs to be done,” Trixie said.

What if we get caught? Maybe we can just light the newspaper building on fire?

“No, Trixie is here now. Trixie wants justice.”

Justice or gratification? Please, if we do this we can’t go back.

“And if we don’t do this, Trixie will never perform on stage again! I’m tired of stealing bits and living on a donut diet.”

Just. . . be careful, make it quick? If we have to . . .

Trixie felt her heart racing, adrenaline flowing through her veins. There was another feeling that she had not felt in a long time. A mix of fear and anxiety, yet confidence and courage too.

Arousal, excitement, a challenge fit to test our skills, to make us grow as a magician.

“Yes, we certainly will learn from this. So will they.”

Trixie crept out into the hallway and over to apartment 82. Her magic quickly lifted the pins and rotated the tumbler, unlocking his front door. Her hooves silently trot through the entryway, closing the door behind her. A faint click signaled the door locking behind her.

The one room apartment was much larger than the hovel Trixie lived in. There was a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedroom. He was living like royalty, being revered, while Trixie worked hard and got only scorn. Her rage began to blind her as she trot into his room.

There he lay, Quick Read the pegasus. Trixie grinned while mentally searching through her many spells. His girlfriend was nowhere in sight which means she had him all to herself.

She started by levitating out a bit and bridle she had “borrowed” from a local shop. His lying tongue would be the first thing to come out. Quietly, she levitated the leather straps over his head. With her remaining reserves, she pulled the comforter down tight, pinning the pegasus into bed.

Trixie began strapping the bridle in place, complete with blinders, as he woke up. Two of the four needed straps were in place when he moaned and became fully awake. Trixie slammed the bit in, cracking a couple teeth, before yanking the straps and forcing it back behind his last molars.

Quick started struggling against the sheets pinning him down and screaming for help. He choked on the bit, and his muffled protests were easily silenced by Trixie’s magic. Both of his eyes went wide as he saw this mare in disguise in front of him. With a quick flourish, she reverted to her normal mane color. It took him a moment, before he realized who she was.

He began thrashing against the sheets pinning him down, and Trixie could see his wings fluttering under the comforter. “So, you recognize Trixie? I hear she likes to murder ponies, just like she tried to murder the Element of Magic. I heard, it had nothing to do with the alicorn amulet and everything to do with her personality flaws.”

Quick made some muffled sounds that could have been an apology, or profanity, before Trixie slammed her hoof down on his nose. His eyes watered and his nose began to trickle blood. She brought her hoof down again, reveling in the crunching sound it made as she bashed him.

Next she dealt with his wings. As he lay there struggling, she levitated out two knives and began stabbing into the comforter. His wings beat like a hummingbird against the sheets, and with each stab they began to slow down. The first dozen or so did little more than clip his feathers. Quick screamed when a knife hit its mark, severing his wing at the joint nearest his shoulder. His legs began to kick through the comforter, which she had torn to shreds while stabbing at his wings.

Soon, his wings and flailing legs were in plain view. She levitated the knife against his wing, drawing blood, and silencing him. He lay there with a pleading look in his eyes—wide, teary, and begging for mercy. Quick dared not move knowing she was poised to chop off the other wing.

“What do you call a pegasus with no wings and no legs?” Trixie asked.

Quick could only mumble and sob in response.

“Wrong!” She spat on him and chopped his other wing off.

The newly minted Earth Pony kicked wildly and screamed, still pinned to the bed by half a comforter around his neck. Blood was squirting out of the stumps left of his wings, staining the padding from the torn comforter red.

Trixie hadn’t planned much farther ahead than this. She knew it was time to end it and leave her message, and head home. Still, it was far too enjoyable not to take a momento. She slid the knife across his throat slowly, cutting deeply down into his trachea and carefully avoiding his arteries.

Quick began to choke on the blood flowing out of the many smaller veins in his neck. He didn’t bleed out, not yet, as she had deliberately missed the larger vessels. He began spitting out a mist of blood from his throat, as his lungs contracted violently to expel the fluid. It was getting harder and harder for him to breath as his lungs filled with blood.

Trixie smiled. “I guess you were right. Except, I don’t try to murder mean ponies. I kill mean ponies.”

Quick was taking quick, shallow breaths. Air was bubbling through the pool of dark red blood slowly leaking from the gash in his neck. He had closed his eyes and stopped kicking as he lost consciousness. His body made a few more attempts to expel the blood from his lungs, before giving up.

With a final shudder he lay still, and Trixie released her grip on the blanket. His head fell to the side onto a crimson stained pillow. His tongue was visible through the bit and bridle. Trixie levitated through her saddlebag until she found her pliers. She pulled out his tongue and sliced it off, deciding it would make an excellent memento.

Using the stumps of one of the severed wings, she began dipping it into his throat like a quill and ink. On the wall in bright red letters, she wrote a message before leaving the apartment.

Trixie trotted home with Quick’s severed tongue and her murderous tools safely stowed in her saddlebags. For the first night since the curse of the alicorn amulet had been lifted, she slept soundly through the entire night.

Once she awoke the next morning, she cleaned her apartment, washed the dishes, and took out the trash for the first time in weeks. Trixie scrubbed the soda stains from the kitchen floor, rounded up the cockroaches with a broom, and cleaned out the pantry. Once her one room apartment—which consisted of a living/kitchen room, and a bedroom/bathroom, totalling 400 square feet—she felt much better.

Despite it being a lovely day outside, she didn’t mind staying in doors and eating nothing but oatmeal. She even took a bath—the first time she’d done so in four days—and refilled the tub three times, enjoying the hot soapy water. Trixie knew that everything would be all right, and soon found herself going to bed. Tomorrow, she was sure there would be something good to read about in the newspaper.

* * * * * * * *

“You look a lot better today, Trixie,” Joe observed.

“Yes, Trixie is feeling much better today. We think that it is time to look on the bright side,” she explained.

Joe placed a coffee and a glazed donut on her usual table. “Well, I’ll let you enjoy your newspaper.”

Brutal Murder in Canterlot - First in Over 80 Years. Equestrian News Employee Slain in Sleep.

Police have been tight lipped about the recent homicide in Canterlot. What we can report is that one of our employees was found brutally murdered. He had his wings stabbed multiple times while he lay in bed, while he was gagged by a bit and bridle sex toy.

Our sympathies go out to his girlfriend, and parents. We wish everypony to know that Equestrian News is co-operating fully with the police to apprehend this vile murderer.

Trixie slammed her hoof on the table so hard that her coffee bounced and fell over. She felt the patch-job she had done on her hoof with magic split back open, tearing at the soft flesh beneath the nail.

“Whoa, Trixie, what’s wrong?” Joe said. He rushed over with genuine concern.

She gathered herself, not wanting to upset the one pony she had left who cared whether she lived or died. “Sorry, Trixie just read there is a murderer on the loose, it’s horrible!”

And they didn’t mention my message. “Speak No Evil” written in his own fucking blood! Or, how I slit his throat and watched him drown in his own blood. What the hell is wrong with them? When it’s a slow news week they just make shit up and ruin my life. When real news happens, they spin it to protect the guilty!

“Trixie? I said, are you okay?” Joe asked.

She looked up at him, realizing she had zoned out, and that her hoof was dripping blood onto his table. “Oh, this?” She asked. Trixie lifted her hoof before casting the spell to mend the nail back together. It was not a true healing spell; it was more akin to using some superglue to hold a damaged porcelain vase together.

Joe wiped up the coffee before heading off to get her another cup. Trixie eagerly scanned through the newspaper, looking for more details on the murder.

Cheerilee Caught Molesting Filly!

Mayor Mare Skimming Money From Operations Accounts!

Rainbow Dash Comes Out of the Stable! Lesbian Lover Tells All!

Applejack Used Steroids to Win Equestrian Rodeo! All Trophies Retroactively Revoked!

She nearly slammed her hoof back into the table. Donut Joe was in the process of refilling her coffee and she stopped her hoof midair. “Hehe, Trixie is still a little upset to be living on the charity of others. It is also horrible a pony is out there murdering others, of course.”

“It sure is,” Joe replied. “I wonder who would be mad enough to hurt one of their employees. Sure, their management posts some mean articles, but they only post what sells.”

Trixie’s eyes went wide in shock. “What do you mean? They only post mean articles! I had my stage license revoked, the Mayor of Manehatten evicted me from my apartment, stating I was a public danger! I can’t even perform on the side of the street without a one-hundred bit permit!”

Joe frowned. “Look, I know that newspaper did wrong by you, and I know you’d never hurt anypony. It’s just—well, it isn’t us working folk who decide what’s news. That responsibility rests with the management, like owners or nobles. This here guy was probably little more than a cog in the machine. I doubt the quality of their paper is like to improve because of one murder.”

He’s right. I thought one would cut it, but now I know it won’t. They didn’t even report it properly. I’ll have to check some other papers, or leave a larger note next time. I’ll have to work my way up until I find out who selects which stories to run.

And then I’ll kill them.

* * * * * * * *

“You may give your report,” Celestia said.

Two police officers were flanked by Shining Armor, who had brought them to let her know about the recent murder. “Well, we uh—you know there hasn’t been a murder in so long we did the best we could. We couldn’t find any hair or hoof-prints. The killer didn’t leave any weapons behind, and the door wasn’t forced.”

Shining spoke up for the two nervous officers. “They located a single message: Speak No Evil. The killer also had his tongue removed, likely after his throat was slit and his wings severed. He was found in a pool of his own blood. Judging by the fact it had all dried out, he likely died a day or two ago.”

“Yes,” one of the officers stated, glancing quickly to Celestia. “The killer, they uh—We think it must be someone who has a grudge with Equestrian News.”

“They’re the paper that’s always posting sensational stories, exaggerating the truth?” Celestia asked.

“One and the same, Celestia.” Shining shook his head and look at the floor. “They’ve said cruel things about everypony from Granny Smith to Fancy Pants, Blue Blood to Twilight. Some were true, others not so much. . .”

Shining looked at Celestia, who knew exactly where he was headed before he trailed off. “And you do not wish to tell me I told you so? I can not impede freedom of speech, not because a newspaper is making a few outrageous claims.”

“I counted the number of petitions you’ve received about them, it’s not a few claims.”

“And if I revoke their freedom of expression now, what message does that send? If someone says something you don’t agree with, kill them? No. I’m appointing you to investigate it, Shining. Find out who the killer is, and have a little chat with the owner of the paper.”

Shining mumbled something and an officer laughed.

Celestia frowned slightly. “Something to add?”

“Oh, apologies,” he said. “I was just mentioning how I owe Cadance dinner. She told me that every time I come to Canterlot to inspect the guard, you find a reason to keep me around a few extra months.”

Celestia chuckled softly. “Perhaps you should have brought her with you.”

Author's Note

Here's another story I've been sitting on, unsure if I should make a long story out of it. Let me know what you think (grammatical errors aside, I normally have an editor but he had to be lame and start editing for other people.)