Trixie Gets Slandered for the Last Time.

Content Advisory: The gore has been doubled.

Celestia was invited into a large conference room. Several ponies from news companies, particularly those working for Equestrian News, were present.

“Thank you, please have a seat,” Celestia said.

All of the assembled ponies sat down and began whispering amongst themselves.

“There has been a murder, the first in nearly a century. I’ve called you here today to review the libel laws, and ensure you comply with them,” she explained.

“Princess, the government has no right to impede on our free speech! You said so yourself when you wrote the Proclamation of Equestria,” a brown stallion stated.

“You work for the Inquisitor, right? Look, I didn’t come here to take away free speech. It’s come to my attention, however, you are spreading rumors and lies about ponies. If that’s true, and there is a pony out there now that has murdered because of it, then clearly the law needs to be revisited.”

“I have a question then—on behalf of Equestrian News. If you change the law now, won’t that send the message that killing ponies will get you what you want?”

Celestia rubbed her temples. “No, because when we catch this killer and put them on trial, it will send a clear message not to kill ponies.”

An orange mare stood up. “You can’t just run around deciding what is libel and what is truth! That’s up to us as reporters. Anything I’ve printed about the conspiracy to coronate Twilight as an alicorn princess was based on hard evidence!”

The brown stallion hit a hoof on the table. “That’s investigative journalism! Just a week later you did make Twilight a princess. And you expect us to believe it would have been libel and not diligence had she failed your test?”

“Indeed! We can’t let bullies determine how we run the news! I say that we band together. They can’t stop us all from exercising freedom of the press!”

“Ponies,” Celestia said, “Please. If I must pass new laws to protect my citizens, I will. You must be willing to help me strengthen the libel laws, and agree to abide by them. I understand sensational stories sell papers, but you could cause far more harm than good.”

The unicorn at the far end of the table stood up. “Thanks for coming by, Celestia. We will continue to run the news as we see fit, until such a time as you abolish our freedom of speech.”

The princess stood up and bit her tongue. She did not want to yell at them for being obstinate, or foalish. Celestia would have to convene the solar court, send legislation to the Equestrian senate, and hope that the press could be reined in before something else bad happened.

Celestia Attacks Freedom of Speech!

Trixie laughed as she read her morning paper. She was having salad with diced eggs for breakfast. It was the first time in a month she had something other than stale donuts and old coffee for breakfast. Trixie owed it all to the stallion she had killed.

It was risky to kill that stallion, andthe newspaper doesn’t seem to have raised its standards at all.

“That’s true,” she said softly. “If this article is correct, they told Celestia to get lost. Perhaps we can find some other pony to make an example of.”

Maybe you should just try a peaceful protest? Those stallions over there are doing it!

“Stallions on strike? That’s ridiculous, why would they go on strike? Everypony knows a stallion’s place is at work, earning bits for his family, while the mare stays home in the kitchen.”

Exactly! But, what do you think that photographer is going to say about them?

Trixie cast a spell to amplify her hearing, and angled her ears towards the photographer.

“Perfect, hold still. This will make great front-page news! Sexism in Canterlot, or maybe Dicks With Sticks! I better get over to Planned Marehood and get photos of that strike too. Murder always sells, and I’d love to get promoted at Equestrian News!”

She growled and canceled the spell. “He works for them. He dies tonight.”

All he’s doing it taking pictures, he didn’t do anything wrong.

“You heard him. He wants to sell murder, make fun of protesters, get promoted. He’s part of the problem.”

“Who is part of the problem?” the waitress asked.

Trixie tapped a hoof on the paper. “The reporter here, claiming Celestia is attacking free speech. Clearly she is just trying to protect ponies from libel and slander.”

The waitress nodded. “It’s a sad thing when they use cheap tricks to sell papers. I just feel sorry for the poor pony that got murdered. It’s never us little ponies that make the big decisions.”

“He decided to work for them, shouldn’t he be responsible for helping them print lies?”

“Well, we don’t always get to work at our perfect job. I don’t think so.”

“Interesting. Well, thanks for breakfast.” Trixie tossed a three bit tip on the table in addition to paying the bill. She trotted off after the photographer to see where he lived.

Polo Roid was an up and coming photographer for Equestrian News. As he closed the door behind him, he entered his apartment and took off his saddlebags. He went over to his fish tank and fed his Zebraharian Cichlids.

“Hey there, daddy’s is home,” he said to his fish.

The red and black striped one he had named Sombra swam up and began to eat the bloodworms. Soon, a purple fish he called Sparkle came up; nipping at his tail, then stealing his food.

“Heh, who says you need a girlfriend when you’ve got fish?”

Polo went into his dark room to develop his photos. He had taken dozens today, of everything from the new soup kitchen, the fundraiser for orphans, the protesters in front of several establishments, and a cute mint blue mare that seemed to be following him.

“Hmm, I think I’ll develop this one first. I wonder if I should ask this mare out. I kept running into her all day long.” Polo grinned and stared at his camera. “Such a shapely flank, I’d love to get here in here alone with me. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been with a mare, especially one with such a tight plot.”

Polo squinted as he lifted the freshly soaked roll of photos out of the water. He submerged them into the developing chemicals, using his magic gently so he wouldn’t damage them.

Trixie was skipping down the street with full saddlebags. She had spent most of her bits on supplies to take care of her newest friend, the photographer. Not paying attention to where she was going, Trixie collided with Shining Armor.

“Excuse me,” Shining said. “I didn’t see you coming.”

“Oh my, I’m very sorry—” Trixie paused for his name.

“Shining Armor.”

Trixie gasped. “Captain of the Royal guard? Brother of Twilight Sparkle, the mare who ruin—I mean, had a minor altercation with me and destroyed my trailer?”

He laughed. “Sounds like her, you aren’t still holding a grudge are you?”

Yes. “No, why would I do that? Things are all better now. I can even afford groceries!” Trixie nodded at her bulging saddlebags.

“Well, until we meet again, Trixie.” Shining nodded, and continued walking down the street.

She sighed in relief and began walking normally the last two blocks to the photographer’s apartment.

I’m not sure a kill in broad daylight is a good idea.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t be predictable now can I?”

You shouldn’t be killing in the first place! I’m sure they’ll drop the investigation, and you proved your point.

“Oh really?” Trixie trotted over to a nearby newsstand. “Excuse me, sir, do you have any copies of this morning’s paper left?”

“Certainly do.” The stallion handed her a paper and she paid a bit for it.

Trixie unfolded the paper and began to skim through the headlines and their matching photographs. “Look at this! They managed to find a photo of Big Mac glancing at Braeburn at a county fair. Why would they run an article claiming he’s homosexual?”

“Because he’s the brother of the Element of Honesty, and sex sells?” the stallion offered.

She lowered the paper, having forgotten he was there. “Hehe, I guess so.”

You don’t even know this is the same photographer. Sure, those revealing photos of us drunk—

“What the fuck?!” Trixie shouted, dropping the paper.

The stallion’s eyes went wide in shock. “What? Are you okay, lady?” He leaned over the counter to look at the photo on page four of the paper. “Oh, my.”

In the center of the photo was Trixie Lulamoon, getting out of her carriage at a recent party. It had taken her every bit she had earned, every favor she was owed, and a couple of happy endings for the bouncers to get her into the Up and Coming Magicians Ball.

That was a week ago, when she had spent the last of her money on one last shot at becoming a stage magician again. The photo on the ground was of her after the party. Trixie had a little too much to drink after being rejected.

As Trixie had stepped out of the carriage, her cloak had blown aside in the wind. When the camera went off, it got an unobstructed picture of her mare parts. It almost looked like she was winking at the camera, and it was vile.

“How can they print this?!” She turned to the stallion and used her magic to fling the paper in his face. “How can you sell this?! Trixie demands answers!”

“Whoa, lady, calm down!” The stallion pulled out a magazine called The Inquirer. “Look! It’s part of their new initiative! Equestrian News is reporting the news from other papers and magazines!”

Trixie picked up the magazine and read the title. Trixie Lulamoon too Drunk to Walk? “What? They just repeat what other news companies have already reported? That’s not even journalism! That’s just plain lazy!”

“Look, I’m sorry but that’s the way the news works! And now that one of their employees was killed, I bet they’re even more determined to push the limits of free speech.”

“Pfft, we’ll see about that.” Trixie tossed her last two bits onto the newsstand. “Sorry for losing my temper.”

“Sure thing.”

She trotted off and rounded the corner, heading towards the apartment. This street was full of one story apartments with narrow front sides, they ran perpendicular to the street. They likely had no back yard, since they were squished together like a foal’s colt-o bricks.

“Apartment 13, how fitting. It’s just like that one horror movie.”

Wednesday the thirteenth?

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Thursday the thirteenth,” Trixie said to herself.

She glanced up and down the street, then used her magic to open the lock. Trixie let herself into the apartment as if she owned the place. She quietly levitated a bottle of chloroform out of her bag and a washcloth. Dousing the cloth thoroughly, she began to stalk through the apartment looking for her prey.

Trixie saw the fish tank and poured some chloroform in it. Moments later, the fish went belly-up. She smiled at her two first victims. Across the room was a red light above a door. Trixie went over and could hear a pony inside.

She kicked the door open and ran in, quickly jamming the chloroform covered cloth into his muzzle.

“Whammpppy mmph?” Polo mumbled. He collapsed on the ground, and Trixie got to work.

Polo Roid woke up with a horrible headache. He felt a splitting pain radiating down into his forehead. He opened his eyes to a pitch black room. Trying to get up, he found that his legs were stuck in an unnatural position.

A red light flickered on. A unicorn stepped out of the shadows to greet him.

“Who are you?” Polo asked.

She grinned. “I’m Trixie Lulamoon, and you must be Polo Roid, photographer for the news. I understand you used to be part of the paparazzi until you scored a photo and hit it big.”

He struggled against the bars holding his hooves spread eagle. “Uh, yeah, it was just some drunk celebrity. Why did you tie me up?”

“Oh, so you don’t recognize me without my pussy on display?” Trixie flicked another lightswitch, bathing the room in bright white light.

“No, the photos!” Polo shouted. After his eyes adjusted he gasped. “No! Trixie?! You were the drunk celebrity? Is this why you were following me all day? Are you going to rape me?”

Trixie laughed, not stopping for a couple of minutes. “Wow, you know I didn’t think anything would surprise me at this point, but seriously? You think I did all this just to rape you?”

He looked at his hooves. He had two spreader bars between his forelegs and hindlegs, holding them apart. He could not bring them close enough together to walk, and could not move them enough to do anything useful. His stallion hood was exposed and erect above his belly.

“No, I think not. In fact, why don’t we do something about that unruly appendage?” Trixie levitated a knife out and slid the flat edge of it against his dick.

“No! Please, no! Anything but that!” Polo shouted.

“Well, then it’s in your best interest to shut up and only speak when spoken to. Otherwise, I’ll chop off your dick and feed it to you. Understood?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

Trixie smiled. “Good boy. Now, to start I’m going to use this to scoop your eyes out.” She pulled an ice cream scooper out of her saddlebag.

“What the fuck? No! HELP!” Polo shouted. “Somepon—”

With one deft motion, Trixie stabbed the knife in into the ground between his legs, silencing him. She then levitated a hacksaw out of her bag. Holding his dick with her magic, she began sawing through it slowly.

“GAHHHHHHHH! CELESTIA FUCKING SOL!!!! MY FUCKING DICK!!!” Polo shouted. The rest of his screaming was gibberish.

The last bits of flesh tore off as she finished sawing his cock off. His dick rolled to the floor as blood spurted all over his abdomen.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! OOOOOOOOOOHHHH FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!”

Trixie grimaced, tired of his incessant whining. She picked up his cock and rammed it deep into his throat, causing him to choke. She levitated out a roll of duct tape and taped the severed appendage into place as a gag.

Her next step was to run her blade through a small lighter she had bought. Using her magic to help, she had the blade glowing red hot in about ten seconds. She then cauterized Polo’s dick stump to stop the bleeding.

To say Polo was thrashing and screaming into his gag wildly would be a discredit to the amount of pain he was in. He looked like he was having a seizure, and flailed about like his hoof was stuck in an electrical outlet. His muffled screams were still loud enough to be heard across the street. Luckily, Trixie had put a dampening spell around the dark room.

As his eyes slowly started to roll back into his skull, he felt a sharp pain in his thigh.

“Now, Polo, I can’t have you passing out and missing all the fun!” Trixie levitated an epi-pen, designed for allergies, away from his thigh. The epinephrine would keep him wide awake for the best part.

Awake, in pain, and too exhausted to struggle, Polo began to cry.

“I suppose it’s bad luck. After all, I was going to kill you just for working for Equestrian News. Then, I find out you took a photo of my cooch to show all of Equestria? No, you deserve far worse than this, but I have a dinner date tonight.”

Trixie levitated the ice cream scoop over to his eye. He thrashed his head to the side, trying to avoid it. She held his head steady with her hooves, and bit her lip as she steadied her magic.

The metal scoop had a pointed round edge at the tip. She slid it between the outside of his eyeball and the corner of his eyelid. He renewed his shouting as a new wave of pain hit him. In his panic, he began to choke on his dick. Trixie waited for him to recover, then pushed the scooper in further.

There was a wet popping noise as the scoop severed the lateral tendons of his eyeball. He went cross-eyed as the medial tendons pulled his eyeball to the side. The white sclera of his eye was bleeding where the tendon had been ripped out, and Polo had started whimpering softly.

Trixie curved the scoop, grinding it against the bone in the back of his eye socket. Polo could feel the tough tendons squished between his skull and the ice cream scoop.

Then he felt the scoop hit his optic nerve. He lost all vision in his left eye, tensing up every muscle in his body and screaming. A pain like a white hot fiery poker pushed down through his eye socket directly into his brain. He could feel millions of little stabbing sensations as the blunt scooper tore through the optic nerve. It wasn’t until the entire nerve was severed that he relaxed.

Polo fell to the ground panting, his muscles finally releasing their grip on him. He caught his breath and was granted a short reprieve from the pain.

“That was incredible. It is a shame about your dick, because this is actually making me pretty horny.” Trixie laughed and dangled the eyeball in front of Polo’s one good eye. “Like what you see?”

Polo closed his eyelid after seeing his bloody eyeball.

How pathetic, he can’t even look. I think he’s learned his lesson.

“Don’t be ridiculous! He knows my name, I have to kill him. Come on, what can I do to make you enjoy this too?”

Well. . . I’ve always wondered what is inside an eye. Why don’t we find out?

“Excellent idea!” Trixie giggled as she levitated the knife over.

“Open your eye, or I’ll make your final moments more painful then you can ever imagine,” Trixie said.

Polo opened his eye. He saw Trixie slide the knife blade along his extracted eye, cutting the pupil in half. She squeezed, and out from between the iris popped a small clear lens. She squeezed it in her magic, marveling at the rubber-like texture of it.

Trixie then squeezed the eyeball, causing a thick, clear goop to squirt out.

Polo felt his heart beating fast and began to pass out at the sight. He felt another sharp sting in his thigh, and found himself waking back up.

“Not yet, there’s something else you forgot about,” Trixie said.

She tapped on his horn. Polo bit down on his dick in response to the pain. He tried to fire up his magic, and was rewarded with crushing agony assaulting his brain.

“Oh, I wouldn’t try to cast anything. I fractured your horn so you couldn’t use magic to escape. Now comes the best part!”

Trixie levitated out a nutcracker. The two slender metal rods had a textured groove near the joint in the middle. She held it over his horn, and tightened her grip.

“Tell me, have you ever broken your horn before? They say it’s the closest a stallion can ever get to child birth. I don’t buy it. You try pushing a baby pony out such a magnificent tight flank like mine. That’s why I never married.”

Polo glared at her with his one good eye.

“Oh, don’t give me that look.”

Do it!

Trixie tightened the nutcracker, causing a crunching sound. Chips of keratin splintered off his horn, and golden magic matching his yellow fur began to fizzle and spark from the horn.

Polo began to seize, trembling violently on the floor, as his brain was assaulted by the pain. Millions of nerves connected directly to his frontal cortex were being slowly crushed by jagged bits of his horn.

Trixie finished closing the nutcracker, then opened it to examine her handiwork. The horn had a full inch missing where it had been crushed and ground to dust. There was a pink mass of nerve tissue oozing blood holding the tip of his horn on.

“Oh, not a clean cut. Let me help you with that.”

Polo was still seizing and couldn’t even grunt in response. Trixie grabbed his horn with her mouth, and tore it off his forehead.

Polo slumped to the ground, unmoving. It wasn’t until Trixie had scooped out his other eyeball that the pain began to rouse him from his slumber.

“Thanks, Polo, you’ve been great fun to torture! Now, I just need to kill you.”

He sobbed as she lifted him up by the spreader bar between his hooves. He then felt his face splash into the developing bin. The chemicals burned his eye sockets, nose, and the stump where his horn had been. The way Trixie was holding his muzzle below the surface, he ended up inhaling a lung full of the fluid.

Polo choked and sputtered, kicking weakly, until he finally died.

Equestrian News Photographer Murderer! Do we Have a New Serial Killer? Sources Say Yes!

Trixie sat reading her special edition of the EQ Newspaper. It had been rushed out when a photographer had failed to report back to his boss with photos at three p.m. It was now seven p.m., and she was eating donuts with Joe.

“Horrible, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Absolutely dreadful,” Trixie replied.

Yet again they skipped all the best details. Hopefully the Inquirer or one of those other tabloids will have the juicy details for me tomorrow.

Celestia walked up to the crime scene where Shining and Luna were waiting. “How bad is it?” she asked.

Luna frowned. “Tia, I have never seen anything like it.”

Shining looked like he was having difficulty not vomiting. Celestia noticed he was standing with his hind legs crossed, and seemed to be cowering a little.

“Shining?” Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“I uh—no, but I will be. Permission to go home and see Cadance?” he asked.

“Granted.”

Celestia walked into the dark room and saw the writing on the wall. Underneath the glow of the lights was a familiar message. This one read “See No Evil”.

On the floor was the rigid corpse of a unicorn stallion. His eyeballs had been torn out of his skull, and were floating in the vat of chemicals. His severed dick was taped into his mouth, and his horn had been crushed and torn off.

Celestia understood now the reason Shining looked uncomfortable. This was more than a murder, this was a brutal torture. She looked in the developing solution and saw a strip of photos.

Pulling them out, she held them in front of the light. “Luna, were these photos visible when the police arrived?” Celestia asked.

“No, they had been in the solution too long. Those silhouettes are the only thing left.”

“Find out what he was photographing today, and ask for a list of every published photo he has ever sold Equestrian News. I want to know every pony he has photographed. This kill was too brutal to be the work of a methodical killer. Clearly, whoever killed him had a personal vendetta.”