Mule: The Untold Story

Chapter 1: This is My Life

In the land of Equestria there was one group of equine that dominated the land. This group was known as the ponies. Now, they themselves were divided into three different groups --one being earth ponies. A group that tends to the soil, and are usually the most physically dominant of the three. Pegasi are the second group. These ponies dictate the weather as a job. Finally, we have the unicorns. With magic enabling them to do almost anything, it really isn’t a shock when they are referred to, by some, as “the master race”.

This story isn’t about any of them.

There are more than just those three groups in Equestria. Everything from buffalo to zebra, griffons to changeling, and many other different creatures occupy the continent. One kind in particular are overlooked often. Scratch that, they are referred to a lot. These references usually pertain to the subject being: stubborn, boring, lame, uncouth, or posses a general status of unworthiness. These equines are not ponies, but they do share some relationship with them. I am of course talking about . . .

The Mules.

‘Was I really expecting anything different?’ the lone male thought as he strolled down the streets of Ponyville, ignoring the biting cold from the surrounding snow .

‘They didn’t even reference me by name. Why did I think they even cared?’ he continued to think as his sour disposition was blatantly written on his face.

It felt like an eternity just getting through the introduction. Twilight Sparkle had insisted upon going through all of her notecards. The note cards had numbered, from what the stack implied, in the thousands.Twilight had to fill in because Mayor Mare fell ill the night before, and they needed someone to take over tonight's proceedings. It made sense why she was chosen, she was student of Celestia and the most professional substitute. The tediousness of the proceedings didn’t help the nerves of one particular audience member.

       “Mule” as everyone called him, joined the meeting because of a specific legislative piece. The bill would dictate that non-pony residents could not lose consideration for a job because a pony competing for the same job has a cutie mark that demonstrates their profession in the field. To the outsider, this seems like a no brainer. However, it was a much different story for those on the inside.

For years non-pony citizens had been, reportedly, denied positions of employment.This was the case, according to the employers, because they didn’t exemplify the standards it took to be hired. While this would be understandable after most interviews; a result of in-depth research by a concerned citizen discredited this explanation. It turned out, that in most cases, the pony that was hired due to their possession of a cutie mark. Thus the issue had been brought up to the city, and is about to come up for a vote. The vote would decide whether or not this action would be punishable by law. Allowing the plaintiff to sue the employer for discrimination.

When the town found out about this, there definitely wasn’t a parade held for the historic legislation. Someponies were so brazen that they would call Mule a mooch. They believed that all he wanted was to take their bits without contributing anything. What they didn’t know is that he already had a job. Mule acted as a taxi service for elderly ponies that couldn’t get a around town. He really did enjoy his job, even if he didn’t get much recognition for it. The problem was that he made friends with a lot of his passengers.

The elderly ponies did grant Mule great company. They would talk to him as an equal and without a hint condescension. They gave him some light in his dim life, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t take it away. These ponies were elderly, and they were at the point where their bodies broke down to the point they couldn’t get around, that’s why they hired Mule. Needless to say the ponies predicament meant they didn’t have long left. So whenever he made a new friend, it was only for a little while. He honestly enjoyed the company, but the repeated drops of his clients took it’s toll. His heart just couldn’t take anymore hurt like that.

Shaking his head clear of those thoughts he returned his attention to the meeting. Mule was cautious about how his proposition would go. He did believe that ponies would listen to his grievances. Despite the tone of the contention of the legislation, he didn’t harbor hate for ponies. They were the only family he’s ever had. He didn’t want them to feel attacked, but they needed to be aware of the situation. If it was incredibly unpopular to begin with he was prepared with a written out speech in his saddle bag. He prepared years for this day, and he would be damned if he was going to make a mistake. That thought calmed him as the moment he waited for arrived. . .

“Now we move on to the motion of purposed by Mr. Mule.” Twilight Sparkle spoke professionally.

‘I have a name you know.’

“A bill to make the act of deciding employment based on cutie mark status is on the floor.” Twilight announced. “To begin, I ask that the Author of the bill ri. . .”

“I motion to lay the bill on the table.” a mare from the crowd said rather quickly.

‘What you’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t believe that they would try to postpone this! Can’t they at least her me out?' the mule thought as he physically flinched at the motion.

“Ok then. I ask for an ‘Aye’ vote in affirmative and negative when I call out for that specific vote. First, all in affirmative say ‘Aye’.”

“Aye.”

A resounding echo rang out through the town hall.

To say the mule was shocked would be incorrect. Along with the echo, he felt the negation of his goals resonate in his bones. He couldn’t fathom why this was happening. It was then that he got a good look at everyone in the hall. Most of them were business owners in town. He could tell because a lot of them had rejected his application before.

‘They must of heard about the bill being up for vote today.’ He thought as his head started to hang in depression. However he wouldn’t go down silently.

“All those in negation?”

“Aye!” he responded with resounding passion.

It was like a warrior’s battle cry. But unlike the warrior, the mule didn’t have a legion of troops behind him. His voice sounded off alone. He was all alone.

“And all of those abstaining.”

Not a peep.

“Well, if that’s the case the bill has been tabled, next: The resolution is to . . .”

Twilight’s voice had trailed off in the mind of the defeated equine.

Mule hung his head and he turned around and made his way for the door. The audience was seemingly engrossed by the proceedings, so they paid him no attention. Turning his gaze to the garbage can, the saddened mule opened his saddle bag and dumped his speech in the trash. He knew that they wouldn’t vote on the bill at the end of the session. They only did so when there was very little on the docket and according to Twilight’s note cards, there was enough that was going to be discussed.

‘Everything I’ve worked for blowing up in my face. What’s the point anymore? It’s like the harder I push for change, the harder they push back to keep everything the same. Love, kindness, and harmony is what we’re all about. Yeah right, Celestia.’ Mule thought as he entered the night while mocking the tone of the sun goddess.

‘Bunch of no good rotten greedy business ponies. How was that vote even fair? All of ponies who were at fault got the majority vote! Years of hard work and convincing, down the drain without a struggle.’

The mule walked down the road, growing progressively angrier with each step. His only goal was to make it back to his house to calm down. He also figured it would be a good place to have a healthy sulk for a little while. Luckily, there was nothing that could stop him from doing that.

“Ugh, you’re as stubborn as a mule!” a voice said very close by.

‘Horseapples.’

“Oh, no offense.” The voice, who had been a mare, turned and said to the mule.

“None tak-” Before he could finish she turned back to the friend she was upset with.

‘Why bother?’

There was no way he could manage an angry response. Depressed enough as it is, the mule quickly trotted his way back home.  Moonlight reflecting off the snow acted as the guide.

It took only five minutes to reach his destination, but it felt so much longer. He wasn’t tired by the run -- not by a longshot. His mule genetics granted him a few benefits. While he couldn’t get a pretty tattoo on his flank, he did have stronger natural muscles than any pony. Moreover, he would be able survive in harsh conditions longer than his pony counterparts.

‘I’m pretty sure that’s another way nature is kicking me in the flank.’ The mule thought cynically as he entered his humble abode.

It was not much to look at. A two room cottage made up of one old bed, a bathroom without the bath, a few bookshelves filled to the with fewer books, and a simple wooden table with an unlit candle on it . Mule moved his way over to the bookshelf and removed a textbook. Expertly moving his head, the mule launched the book and it landed perfectly on his bed.

“Nailed it!”

A tiny bit of happiness floated the mule over to the table so he could light his candle, and then to his bed. Lying down he opened the book to the middle. He fiddled with the page numbers until he was able to find where he had left off. The subject of the book dealt with Equestrian history, specifically he was on the chapter that had to do with his branch of the equine family tree. This information was not easy to come by though. Living in a society dominated by three groups of ponies, other races tended to get swept under the rug. And while he was more of an economics buff; history is worth the time to study.

Despite his efforts in retrieving the book, it seemed to be in vain. The book had a total of three pages dedicated to the history of mules. Even with the three pages, no new information was revealed. Under candlelight he read several reiterations of “They were created, they lived, and they’re mostly gone now”. The latter thought was the most depressing. He hadn’t even seen another mule until fairly recently.

Mulia Mild, a mule from a higher class family, decided to show off some of her new recipes in town. She didn’t receive any negative attention, in fact she was the talk of the town. Figuring he could make a connection with someone like him, Mule took his chances at a conversation.

It didn’t go as planned.

Apparently he was of too low class to be talked to. She had also thrown in comments about his appearance. Everything from his buck teeth to his heavier stature was touched upon in the one sided conversation. There is one thing that the ponies have over mules, at least they feigned compassion.

No longer being able to focus on his book, Mule fell into dark thoughts about his life.

He never had an immediate family. To his knowledge he was dropped off in Ponyville the day he was born. No one knew where he came from, but there was one interesting thing about him. You see, mules that are descendants of other mules have an overall shorter stature, about the size of a young mare. Also they tend to have a bit of a drawl. He had neither of these qualities.

This could only mean he was a first generation mule. These are created by a female pony and a male donkey reproducing. His mother could very well be any pony in Equestria. And it’s not like this is a secret around ponyville. His status was deduced by nurses and doctors that were easily able to decipher his genetics. As for the rest of the ponies, they were well versed.  In fact, when he was in school . . .

‘Oh Celestia, *SCHOOL*!’ he thought frustrated by the very notion.

Long before the days of the benevolent Ms. Cheerilee, an old crone by the name Ms. Zeeloate ruled over the class. It’s not to be misunderstood though. She was a good teacher, to anyone who wasn’t “The Mule”. It was never found out why she dislike him so. Although he gathered hints when she would make incredibly subtle jabs about his looks.

His class wasn’t much help either. With no friends to lean on or defend him, the badgering was brutal. But the topping on the messed up cake was that the education system seemed to want to screw him over too. He was always last receiving textbooks (which were always in the worst condition) and obviously never received aid from the teacher or peers. He wasn’t able to participate in extracurricular activities, that mostly pertaining to his desire to be in school plays. Whoever happened to run the events would give Mule a myriad of different reasons as to why he can’t participate.

“This play is about pony history. It wouldn’t be fair to exclude a pony from it.”

“Can’t you just be happy for your classmates?”

“We already picked out a job for you to do backstage.”

“Your classmates say that you’re being mean to them. We cannot have that kind of attitude in the production.’”

‘That last one doesn’t even make sense! How can one mule pick on everypony by himself?’ the mule thought angrily.

Mule was so into his thoughts that he didn’t realize exactly how dark it was outside, after the moon had been obstructed by a thick blanket of clouds. Figuring he could calm down by getting some sleep, he put out the candle and started to drift off to sleep.

‘Got to be ready for the winter wrap-up tomorrow. Applejack is expecting me at her farm.’