No Stalin For Time At Canterlot High

Chapters

The Upstart Revolutionary
It's Just Business
Cui Bono?

The Upstart Revolutionary

Wednesday, September 4, 2013:

I am Steel Cog, and tomorrow, I’m starting my first year at Canterlot High School. I recently transferred from the poorer Manehattan High School after my alcoholic father got into a higher-paying job in this part of town. He is a highly skilled welder, and my mother is a hotel maid.

Obviously, I have working class roots. I’ve seen how different these green lawns and two story houses with picket fences are from the cramped tenements that I am used to living in. I used to have to do petty crime just to get by, with both father and mother out of work since the 6th grade. Just a couple months ago, however, we finally attained the means to move to the more prosperous town of Canterlot after I got out of jail. I’ve done my share of juvenile hall (mostly for assault and petty theft), but I don’t think I need to do that anymore. I can focus all my attention on school.

Thursday, September 5, 2013:

I just started my first year. I had to spend first period with Principal Celestia’s secretary to get a copy of my schedule, locker, combination, planner, etc. I have Pre-Calculus, AP English Lit, AP World History, PE, Advanced Engineering and Chemistry. I saw some flyers for the debate team. I’ve never been very good at debate, so maybe I could sharpen my skills there.

First class was Pre-Calculus. Hardly any slackers. One should expect this from an advanced math class. I can tell by the looks in their eyes that they want to learn. The first thing I notice is that the teacher, Mr. Abacus Blue (a rather large man, probably middle aged) is on his computer. I went ahead and decided to take a quick glance on the screen. He was doing attendance, so I went up to him and introduced myself. He’s a man of few words. He looked at my schedule, nodded, and told me to take my seat. It’s in the middle of the second row. Not too bad. We spent the period learning about logarithmic functions. I’d never really had this sort of thing in my old school, so it was a bit difficult to follow in the beginning, but a quick skimming of my textbook got me up to speed.

Despite the much better behavior of these students compared to the ones in Manehattan, but I was still able to pick up on some gossip. Relationships, scandals, and all that shit. One thing that struck me as humorous is when some girl named Sunset Shimmer pulled down another girl’s pants during yesterday’s lunch period. They made such a big fucking deal about how the victim’s cheeks got flushed red as the crowd laughed at her. Shimmer didn’t get any trouble, either. Back in Manehattan, you could get into a fist fight for that. Stabbed if it was the wrong person. But in this upper middle class pansy fest, there’s not anything like this. It’s surreal.

Anyway, next, I had AP Lit. I was the only one who wasn’t wearing either thick-rimmed glasses or some edgy hairstyle. I fucking hate hipsters. They’re the worst. Anyway, the class was in the middle of reading 1984. I read that book several times already on my own accord, so I decided to talk it up with one of the other kids sitting next to me. Pretty girl with flowing pink hair and yellow skin. Calls herself Fluttershy. Her name definitely fits her demeanor; she hardly said a word unless I coaxed her into it! She got a little more comfortable with me as time went on, though. She talked about her friends, her volunteering at the animal shelter, how hard the homework was, and her recent run-in with Sunset Shimmer. “Who the hell is Sunset Shimmer?” I thought. So I asked. Apparently, she runs the whole show. Everyone’s afraid of her for some reason. I don’t know why. “Her dad might be a cop or something,” I thought. I know how much these rich fucks like their heroin. She never really said anything about her, however, other than that she was a real devil who liked to humiliate other students. She’s also the prom queen three years running, apparently. She must be hot.

Next class was just a lecture on the Second Punic War. I always liked Hannibal. The father of strategy, they call him. He really taught those Romans a good lesson. On their own soil, in fact! Ah, but I’m just letting my mind wander here. Some greaseball kept making faces and animal noises every time the teacher told us how many Romans got slaughtered. I never much liked Italians.

PE was just running around the track, so it was all about keeping up with the local news. Rumors spread, v cards getting turned in, all that. The one thing that I felt was missing was actual fights. Where are the fights? There was a fist fight at least twice a week at my old school. I even got into a few myself. This place is just so bourgeois. It’s sickening. There’s lax security, yet nobody does anything that’s really against the rules apart from the occasional locker theft by some poor fellow who lost his pencil and was in a pinch. You know what? I might use this to my advantage someday.

Lunchtime. Food is excellent. Today was taco day, except there weren’t beaners in the kitchen. Everything looked clean and fresh, even the lettuce. I was lucky not to get mold on the buns of my cheeseburger back in Manehattan. I took my tray and scanned the room for all the cliques. We’ve got nerds, jocks, weebs, hipsters, all that shit. No gangs, though. Anyway, I didn’t really want to try to force myself into anyone’s clique, so I just found some table with a few loners to sit with. Fluttershy was there, so we talked. I guess she’s a vegetarian considering how she got tofu in her taco. Tofu taco? Yuck. Anyway, we just decided to shoot the breeze for the whole period. She’s still pretty shy around me even if I did get her to be more comfortable around me. I asked for her number. “Maybe later,” she said.

After I finished lunch, I went to Engineering. A lot of those same guys who are in my math class are also in this class. Go figure. The class project is a robot that throws basketballs and gets it through the hoop. I think it’s a waste of time, but hey, I guess it’s a fun project. I heard more about the debate team. I was interested, so I approached a few nerds after class who were talking about it. They seemed to invite me with open arms. One of them even offered to take me to the club leader and introduce me after school. My time spent in juvy taught me never to rush into these kinds of things, so I politely declined.

Chemistry was pretty uneventful. We got into stoichiometry. It’s not an AP class; so naturally, I had to deal with a few losers. The classwork was shit, too. I got through it real quick, and then did all my homework for the day just in time for the bell.

I passed by the debate team’s room on the way to the bikes. I decided to take a look. Taking a quick glance around the room, and I saw nothing but a bunch of losers tapping at their smart phones with that glazed look in the eye that losers always have. I approached the club leader and asked him, “What do you guys even talk about, anyway?” Turns out they just talk about general issues like obesity and depression. I imagine the discourse isn’t all that intellectually stimulating. I decided that I might make some changes here, so I signed up. Besides, I’d do anything to get out of the monotony of home life.

I rode my bike back home. No parents around, they’re both at work, so I decided to get myself a snack and a bottle of my dad’s poorly hidden vodka. I kicked back when I heard a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole to find some lady with curly pink hair and balloons on her skirt. I grabbed my switchblade (you can never be too careful) and opened the door. She gave me the most wild, obnoxious introduction I’d ever heard. Her name was Pinkie Pie. I asked her how the hell she ever found out where I lived. She quickly changed the subject to the vodka in my hand. Fuck her. That’s none of her business. I pressed her until she told me that she followed me because I was talking to her friend, Fluttershy, and she wanted to see if she could try to hook me up with her to the fall formal. I jokingly asked if I could take her instead. Stupid bitch took it seriously! I just laughed and slammed the door in her face.

Thursday, September 5, 2013:

Today was my second day of school. It was pretty uneventful. Boring classes, boring gossip, boring everything. I might start bringing booze to this damned place.

The important thing for today was I officially signed up for debate team. I can put those worthless fools to work. Maybe I’ll get some influence in this school through them.

Friday, September 6, 2013:

Tomorrow’s the weekend. I’m piled with homework, though. Fucking AP classes. It’s a damn good thing they’ll get me scholarships, or else I wouldn’t even bother. I put some vodka in a flask (the biggest I could find) and drank it throughout the day. It definitely made school a little more tolerable.

Lunch was a highlight. Fluttershy introduced me to her pet bunny, Angel. Cute little thing. She got curious and asked me what was in the flask. Seeing as she might be a snitch, I told her it was grapefruit juice. I figured that way, she wouldn’t want any. Nobody likes grapefruit juice.

Saturday, September 7, 2013:

I was just staying in my room today reading Lenin. Rereading “What Is To Be Done?” Then, as I read a particular passage, something rang in my head. You know what? Maybe these are a bunch of rich assholes in this school, but I can still make them supporters of the working class. Of course, in Manehattan, there was an actual communist political group that had a leader and whatnot. This time, I can be the leader. The debate team is just what I need to really make my mark in this place.

Sunday, September 8, 2013:

Fluttershy decided to add me on Facebook. I still use Facebook to connect with some of my friends in Manehattan. I went ahead and took a look at her profile. Most of the people in her friends list are relatives and people who work in the animal shelter with her. We chatted for a little. She said that she didn’t want to come to school tomorrow because Sunset Shimmer had spread some nasty rumor about her being a dogfucker or something, with doctored photos to “prove” it. I looked at them and wondered how anyone in the world could think they’re real. Despite only having known her for a few days, I figured doing some heroic act against the school boogeyman would get me higher standing. Fluttershy told me not to do anything about it, though. She told me she has a lot of connections in the school that keep her out of trouble and the rest of the students under her thumb. I might get into trouble if I stand up to SS for her is what she told me. I’ve decided to trust her on this. It’s probably best not to directly challenge someone who can do this sort of thing with impunity. Not yet, anyway.

Monday, September 9, 2013:

Today was business as usual, save for debate hour. I decided to go with Saturday’s convictions and sow the seeds of communism into this school. I started by bringing up a common working class topic: minimum wage. As any good socialist would do, I argued for a livable wage. Most of them didn’t really give a shit in the beginning, and a few of them went ahead and towed the capitalist line. I’ve been reading Marx for years. I’ve read Capital twice. They really think they can beat me? Anyway, I pretty much wiped the floor with them, but I tried not to be too condescending. I’m trying to convert them, not piss them off. They seemed pretty impressed with my knowledge of socioeconomics. One of them was so impressed that after the hour was over, she came up to me personally. She was one of the brighter ones. Purple chick named Twilight Sparkle. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. She said that she still disagreed with me, but wanted to learn more about my particular brand of politics. I just told her to go through Marxists.org and look through some of the works of Marx, Engels, and Lenin.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013:

Pinkie Pie came up to me during lunch. She said that she told Fluttershy that I was in my house a few days ago drinking booze. I got pissed off, and I was a little drunk, so I pulled my knife on her and threatened her. Either she takes back what she said, or I cut her throat. She looked pretty fucking scared, too. It’s like she’s never had someone pull a knife on her before. She apologized and told me right away that she would apologize to Fluttershy for her slanderous lie. I followed her and made sure that happened. She did as she asked.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013:

I got in trouble with Principal Celestia for that little incident with Pinkie Pie yesterday. Pinkie didn’t snitch on me, though. Instead, it was some shit stain named Snips. Apparently, he had taken a picture of me holding a knife to her throat. I wanted to choke the bastard snitch right then and there. And I would’ve if there wasn’t a cop in the room with us. Back in Manehattan, and especially in juvy, snitches get stitches. Anyway, I guess the dumb fuck principal has never heard a lie in her life, because she seemed to buy the story that it was a prank with a toy knife pretty well. Instead of involving the law, Celestia just suspended me for a couple days. Pretty good deal, I say. I followed Snips to the bathroom and gave him a sound beating when nobody was watching. He definitely won’t fuck with me again.

Thursday, September 12, 2013:

Twilight Sparkle decided to add me on Facebook. It’s really boring here with no homework or any of that, so she and I had a long chat. I’d had more booze than usual, so I went on a drunken rant about how the rich are all shit (true) and how they do nothing for the poor except make them work for their own profit (also true). She started getting concerned after I told her I’d personally have bourgeoisie hung from lamp posts. But she did say that she understood. She read a few of Marx’s works over these few days, so she said she was starting to sympathize with me.

Friday, September 13, 2013:

Twilight and I decided to have another chat. I had to try real hard not to get drunk this time. But dammit, there’s nothing to do here but drink! Anyway, I apologized to her for saying those awful things about those parasites on Wall Street, told her I didn’t really mean it, and all that other garbage.

She’s pretty well-respected on the debate team, so she was able to convince most of them to read the Communist Manifesto. How she managed to make so many copies, I do not know, but I imagine I’ll have my own little group of followers in a couple weeks or so. Maybe even less.

Saturday 14, 2013:

I was in my room when Pinkie Pie knocked on the front door of my house. My drunkard of a father opened the door before I could. She claimed to be my friend and asked if she could come over for dinner. Why can’t she just stay the fuck out of my business?

Anyway, it was dinner. I normally just take whatever mom gets from McDonald’s and chow down in my room, but because I was having this “friend” over, mom and dad decided for us to have dinner in the kitchen. That means I get soda for the night. Pinkie asked me about how I was doing in the debate team, for one. How does she know I’m in the debate team? Hopefully, she doesn’t know about my plans, so I decided to stick to saying that it’s pretty boring and uneventful. She also brought up the fall formal, which is on the 30th. You know what? I think I’ll just bring Fluttershy or Twilight. Either of them seems nice. The rest of the conversation was pretty uneventful. I made sure of it. I’m convinced that Pinkie is a spy of some kind.

Sunday 15, 2013:

Fluttershy introduced me to one of her Facebook friends, Big Macintosh. Her boyfriend, apparently. I’m guessing he’s also her date to the fall formal. Oh, well. I might want to bag Twilight so I won’t have to ask a stranger. I haven’t gotten any action since my jail bitch sucked my dick as my going away present over the summer. I looked at Twilight’s status on Facebook. Looks like she’s single. Perfect.

Monday, September 16, 2013:

I just had my first run-in with Sunset Shimmer after math class. I was right about her being hot. She’s got an ass for days, and she’s not afraid to show it off in that little orange skirt of hers. She’s also got some attitude. She approached me while I was at my locker and knocked all the shit out of there. Then she told me not to fuck with her boy toys ever again. I just smiled and nodded, just slightly feeling the effects of the half-flask of hooch I’d drunk. She might be intimidating to some upper middle class wuss who’s never been in a fight in his life, but she has no chance against a guy like me. She turned back after she was done with her little tirade and walked away. I grabbed her tight ass just to measure her response. She just glared and mouthed “you’re dead” to me. I’d never been so turned on in my life. I took a swig of vodka after that and it was business as usual.

After several days of being without the debate team, I went back. I was met with applause. Twilight must’ve been real busy with these guys. However, I later found out that the applause was not only about introducing them to communism, but also because I showed bravery in facing Sunset Shimmer. She must’ve been a real bitch to everyone. Anyway, that entire hour was more like Marxism 101 than any debate hour. I just spent that hour giving them a Cliff’s Notes version of the whole thing. I even gave them homework. I’m having them read “Theses on Feuerbach” and “A Critique of the German Ideology”. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.

Oh, and I asked Twilight to the formal. She said she’d go with me. Things seem to be falling into place rather nicely.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013:

I walked into school to see a bunch of posters, each with a poorly doctored image of me kissing another guy. Cute. I’m guessing Sunset Shimmer is out to convince the school that I’m a faggot.

You learn right away in juvy that if you don’t react to this type of disrespect, then your entire manhood comes into question. That means that this is war. I’m not going to let some preppy bitch keep me from my goal of running this school. So I just had a couple of my debate team buddies distract her while I snuck behind her and gave her a wedgie in the commons. The slut was wearing a red thong (she must have a thing for warm colors). Then I slapped her ass so that everyone knew that I wasn’t a faggot. Her face got as red as her underwear as everyone who saw it laughed. They laughed harder than I’d heard anyone laugh in my life. I guess they felt like she deserved it.

That got me into trouble with Celestia real quick. Shimmer snitched on me. I had to spend the whole second period defending myself. My buddies were in on it, too, so they had to be in the office with me. We denied it, naturally. As much as Celestia distrusts me for my criminal record, she trusts my friends who don’t have rap sheets, so I was let go on the condition that I wouldn’t get into trouble like that again. Besides, it was the word of several people over the word of one.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013:

The school day was business as usual. I did bring some extra vodka, though. I drank to the point where I was in a slight stupor by noon. Shimmer was being facetious when she said during lunch period that I was slurring my words like a drunken fool. Despite her being factually correct, I flipped her the bird and moved on. My debate team friends covered for me, especially Twilight. I know I shouldn’t be drinking in school, but the work is so damned facile and so are all the students. I’m lucky I don’t get in trouble again.

Thursday, September 19, 2013:

I’ve resolved to wean off the booze until after school. Shimmer is going to use anything she can against me, so I need to stay on my toes. It’s hard, though. I get withdrawal real quick. I get irritable. I shout at Fluttershy sometimes, and she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s time I confide in her.

Friday, September 20, 2013:

Pretty uneventful day. I’m up to “The Eighteenth Brumaire of Napoleon Bonaparte” with the debate team. The questions they ask are getting noticeably more focused and less… well, stupid. Twilight, especially. She might just be my intellectual equal. Not only has she read all the stuff I’ve assigned her; she’s also read Volume 1 of “Capital”. She seems to understand it, too. Her questions were, indeed, the most insightful out of all of them. She very well could be my right hand gal.

Saturday, September 21, 2013:

I just took today to get piss stinking drunk. I disconnected the internet so I wouldn’t be tempted to go on drunken diatribes on Facebook. Sunset Shimmer might know where my Facebook account is. Even though I set it to “private” and I don’t accept random requests, you can never be too careful, especially with the internet. In any case, this was another uneventful day.

Sunday, September 22, 2013:

Hangovers are a real bitch. I can’t even complain about it lest my father find out why his vodka stash gets empty so quick. Talking to Twilight and Fluttershy really lifted my spirits, though. I know I can always turn to Fluttershy when I’m down, and Twilght is always good for discussion on Marxism.

Monday, September 23, 2013:

It’s a week until the fall formal. Twilight and I have decided on using the Fall Formal to spread propaganda. Fluttershy doesn’t know anything about it, though, and I intend on keeping it that way. I definitely can’t let Shimmer know about my plans, either. I’m the underdog, not an upstart. Certainly, trying to get her subjects involved in such a powerful ideology is going to incur more of her wrath. We’ve already approached a shaky truce; I don’t want to compromise that too quickly.

Twilight said over Facebook that one of the team’s members works at a printing shop where he can use a computer and copy machine for free. She also knows one who knows graphic design. With Twilight’s smarts and their technical skills, we could really do something meaningful.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013:

Sunset Shimmer just got transferred to my AP English class. This should be interesting. She came in late, so I just smiled and waved to her to try to embarrass her. She did give me quite the look in the eye. Did I ever tell you just how much she turns me on? Anyway, she’s proven herself to be pretty bright today. She gives some fairly insightful answers to the teacher’s questions. I’d be jealous if not for the wad of peppermint gum that I stuck into her bacon-colored hair. It’s so damn thick that she didn’t feel a thing.

Nobody in class really seems to like her, and it seems like their fear of her is starting to wane, so I just got a few smirks and nods from the classmates.

But I can’t just prove my superiority by playing cheap pranks on her. I need to show my intellectual dominance as well. I’ll admit, she didn’t really get a lot factually wrong with the answers that she gave to the teachers, but they did come up. I’d mostly just blurt out “WRONG!” or “IDIOT!” without bothering to raise my hand. The teacher would ask me that the real answer is. To nobody’s surprise, I’d get it right, and Shimmer would get embarrassed. This only happened once or twice, I think, and they were really minor things. Compare that to most of the troglodytes who attend this school who think WW2 ended at about the same time the Korean War was being fought.

I told Fluttershy during lunch that she was in my class now. She told me to be careful. Looks like she’s still afraid of her. To give her a little more perspective, I told her a story about when I and a bunch of other guys in jail cornered this one pretty boy in his own cell and gang raped him. That backfired real quick. She cried, called me a monster for having done such an awful thing to another person, and ran away. She might be afraid of ME now, too. I think I’ll just have to give her a few days to cool off. She’s one sensitive bitch.

Wednesday, September 25, 2013:

Sunset Shimmer tried really hard not to get anything wrong in class today. I could tell because she raised her hand less often and didn’t give me an opportunity to humiliate her. I guess this is good, too. The less outspoken she is because of me, the better.

Twilight also asked me out on a date for this Saturday. To the library. Really? The library? Who goes out on a date there? Twilight is a good friend, and she really isn’t that bad looking, so I figured, “Why not?” I did change it to my place. I’m not going to try anything lewd with her, though.

Thursday, September 26, 2013:

Debate team seems to be doing a good job of learning Marx’s word so far. I’m having all of them read Capital. It is imperative that they know capitalism’s true nature before they begin their righteous task of reshaping the conscious of the students. I will later have them read some of Marx’s later works, then on to the works of Lenin and, eventually, Stalin.

Things seem to be quiet so far. I’ve recently learned that Sunset Shimmer is taking out one of the football players. A running back named Flash Sentry. I don’t really know Flash Sentry, but I’ll be sure to spike the punch so he gets grabby with her. Any humiliation I can cause Sunset Shimmer is good for me.

Friday, September 27, 2013:

It’s the last school day before the fall formal. Homework is lax, and the students are deciding which unfortunate losers go dateless. Twilight showed me the dress that she’s going to wear. It’s purple, to match her hair, and it’s covered in glitter and all that other fru-fru crap. It’s too decadent for my tastes. I was planning on wearing something much simpler. Something Lenin would wear. I told her that I didn’t like the dress, and she told me that it belonged to her grandmother. I didn’t want to alienate her too bad, so I went ahead and let her wear this horrible bourgeois dress.

I’ve also decided to approach this Flash Sentry myself. After football practice, I went up to Flash Sentry and offered him some of my booze. He initially declined, but I was able to persuade him to try some. The vodka was a bit strong for him, I could tell. I doubt the guy has ever had any more than a glass of wine at dinner all his life. Still, we talked and we drank. He mostly just talked about how excited and honored he was to go out with the prom queen three years running. His comments got more lewd the more he drank. This guy gets tipsy way too quickly, I tell you. That’s a good thing. I got him a bottle of vodka and told him to drink it just before the fall formal to bring him good luck, in the hopes that he might get lucky. They don’t call it “liquid confidence” for nothing, you know.

Saturday, September 28, 2013:

Twilight’s sleeping in my bed naked and drunk. I’m pretty drunk, too. We both had a bottle of vodka each while we were together listening to Soviet war songs and playing cards. I swear, she just got so drunk that she started ripping off her clothes and trying to fuck, and I was too drunk to say no. I don’t remember it too clearly. She was flirting with me the whole time, more intensely as she drank more. I flirted back with her just for fun. She told me she’d never had booze before, so she didn’t know how it would affect her. She knew it would cloud her judgment, but she never quite knew the extent to which it would do so. I sure hope she wasn’t a virgin. She might get clingy.

Sunday, September 29, 2013:

Tomorrow’s the formal. Twilight called her parents and got the okay to stay over at my place for the night. She told me after she woke up that she was, indeed, a virgin. Fuck. She’s also bitching way too much about her hangover. I told her some common remedies like drinking orange juice and shit. I told her they’re not going to work right away. I know I’ve had more hangovers than I can count.

Still, I don’t really care how my date with Twilight to the formal is going to be. I just want to watch Flash Sentry turn into Grabby Sam with Sunset Shimmer after he gets stone cold drunk off that cheap vodka I gave him. It’s going to be sweet. She’s not going to be more embarrassed at any other point in her life.

Twilight agrees, too. She’s the only other person who knows what I did with Flash.

Anyway, we just spent the whole day together playing cards, eating our three square meals, and all that shit. I decided on not drinking any more booze with her for tonight. We both need to be sharp for the formal.

Monday, September 30, 2013:

The formal was even better than I expected. The music was complete shit, as you would expect from any school function, but the punch was nice and the entertainment was superb.

Ah, the entertainment. We watched Sunset Shimmer get all huffy as her date didn’t show up for over half an hour while we danced. We drank punch and laughed at her. 45 minutes in, Flash Sentry came in, stumbling and waddling in with the bottle of vodka empty but still in his hand, his pants wet and reeking of piss. He started groping Shimmer. After she slapped him and told him to fuck off, he smashed his bottle on the floor and tried to rape her on the spot. He was able to tear open the torso of her dress before the cops came in and apprehended him. Twilight and I just could not stop laughing. After Flash got hauled away, Shimmer pointed at me and shouted at the top of her lungs, “You’ll pay for this!” Of course, nobody could take her seriously with her pretty pink b cup bra revealed for the entire world to see. It was at that moment when the slow dance music came on. Twilight and I slow danced for the rest of the night as Shimmer ran away in tears.

Twilight also had dozens of flyers for us to distribute. I took a quick glance at them. They’ve got that good old hammer and sickle on the upper right corner and a few factoids about some issues facing students. It must’ve been hard for her to come up with something advocating class struggle to such a privileged group of kids, but she somehow pulled it off. She even came up with a slogan: “Power to the Students.” She must have read up a little bit on Lenin. The resemblance to the Bolshevik party slogan is uncanny. She also put an anonymous hotline number on the bottom of the flyer with hours that it’s available. No doubt this is the number to the debate team home room. That’s okay for starters, but we really need to get a bona fide hotline service that’s open for a decent amount of time for it to be really effective. Anyway, we just left stacks of flyers near the snacks and the punch bowl and all that, and handed some out to students.

All in all, it was a pretty good day.

It's Just Business

Tuesday, September 31, 2013:

Courtesy of Sunset Shimmer, I got backed up into a wall by two guys as I was walking to school. They were big guys, too. Football players. She was about ten feet behind them, just staring at me with this devilish look on her face, in front of a crowd surrounding us in a semicircle. I remember her words: “You’ll pay for what you did to me at the formal. These guys will see to it that you don’t ever mess with me again.” I wasn’t afraid, though. Not of these punks. I’ve faced worse odds back in juvy.

Yeah, I needed to draw on my memories if I wanted to come out on top. Jail is where I gained the skills and courage to fight. I was 15, in for robbing some 6 year old for his mom’s purse. These three niggers, much bigger and meaner than these jackasses, came over to beat the crap out of me because I stole a pair of shoes from one of them. Wanted to trade them for some pruno and maybe a bag of chocolate chip cookies. Anyway, I had no idea this guy had friends, and my own buddies were in their cells. I had no intention of being turned into some crow’s girlfriend, so I went in swinging. With all my might, I socked one of them right in the throat, causing him to go down and gasp for breath. Then I played it defensively, making as much noise as I could as I dodged and blocked as many hits as I could. I snuck in a few hits whenever I could since these guys didn’t even bother to use proper fighting stance, although I knew they could. I just stayed in that corner getting wailed on until a couple guards came in and broke the fight. I got a black eye, all kinds of bruises on my body and arms, and blood spewing out of my mouth and nose. Neither of those last two guys got much other than maybe a bloody nose, but I can proudly say that I sent that first guy to the hospital, and I got all kinds of respect from fellow inmates. I even got invited to join the Aryan Youth for that little scuffle. Of course I joined despite them mostly being a bunch of fascist pigs, since I really didn’t want to have to do that again, but it was honestly the first time I ever really stood up to adverse odds, even if it was likely that I’d lose. I’d been a real coward before my balls finally dropped that day. After that, I knew that as long as you didn’t show fear, you could do anything.

Anyway, back to these punks. I had my knife handy in my pocket, but I decided not to use it. I just smiled and winked at Sunset Shimmer, and then I started wailing on the guy to my right. I mean just fucking pounded him. I went for sensitive areas like the nose, the eyes, the temples, and the throat. I tell you, these rich bastards can’t fight for shit. It’s like these guys haven’t even seen a boxing match on TV or something. There were no guards to break the fight, but I could certainly put fear into this one guy by smashing him to pieces. After I had him on the ground, I kicked his head with the steel toe of one of my boots, making this cracking noise as the blow made him unconscious. His friend just looked in awe. I looked at the other guy and urged him to attack first. Instead, he walked away like a little bitch.

Sunset Shimmer just looked at me, her jaw dropped and her eyes wide open. I just smiled at her one more time, walked up to her, rubbed her head, and said “next time, don’t send girls to do a man’s job.” Then I walked back to my locker. I wanted to get my shit as quickly as possible, but a cop stopped me and dragged me to Celestia’s office.

She threatened to expel me. I told her it was all in self-defense, but she flat out told me that I went too far. Too far? Has this bitch ever been in any fight at all, let alone one where she’s outnumbered and outgunned? So I just played that card. I told her about how the more meek guys in jail would get ass fucked by niggers and how they’d gang up on you. In jail, you can just forget about a fair fight. You either grow a pair, or you get fucked. I told her all about how boys who got raped in jail had to service the inmates for the rest of their time in the system and how any of the pretty boys in Canterlot High would be prostituted by gangs. Apparently, that aroused her sympathies. She let me go with three days suspension just to save face. I can deal with more suspension. I don’t even need to be at school all the time with Twilight to help me.

I was walking back to my bike when Twilight ran up to me and asked me if I was okay. Told her I was fine. We talked a bit about what was going on. She told me about that kid whose head I bashed in. He got a concussion, so he had to be sent to the hospital. She suggested that I recruit a couple bodyguards from the biggest of the team. I think I’ll take her up on her offer. I got lucky this time around, but they could be carrying weapons next time, and I might be the one who gets carried off to the hospital. I told her I’d sleep on it. She told me she’d visit me in the evenings and buy me a webcam to I can teach lessons to the team from home. Wasn’t that nice of her? Turns out deflowering rich girls has its perks. Then she kissed me goodbye as I rode my bike back home.

I just drank the rest of the day and read a little bit of Machiavelli. I often sat there wondering if Sunset Shimmer has read Machiavelli. Then I’d get lost a little bit in sexual fantasies about her. I’d come back to my senses real quick, though. She’s my enemy, first and foremost.

I was about three quarters of the way through “Discourses on Livy” when I heard a knocking on my door. It was Twilight. She got this really nice webcam and a list of 22 prospective members who called the hotline asking to join. Not too bad for a fall formal of maybe about two hundred and fifty guests or so. I recognize a few of these names from the sports rosters in the school newspaper. Excellent. Jocktards will make fine bodyguards.

Now, I only need for the revolutionary vanguard to have intimate knowledge of Marxist-Leninist ideology, so I can just let Twilight give these guys the Cliff’s Notes version. I’ll have to personally teach them how to fight, though, and I’ll have to get them weapons and teach them how to keep them hidden. I’ve had to keep a few shanks hidden in my rectum back in juvy, but I won’t make them do that. I’ll also have all members of the party wear a uniform. They’ll wear something working class. A red t shirt, a pair of jeans, long socks, and steel toed boots with red laces. Actually, I might have members of the vanguard wear gold laces. All male members will also have to shave their heads. Mine’s already shaved so no skin off my teeth.

Anyway, back to Twilight’s visit. We just sat down and discussed the future of the party. I had a few hours to think about it before Twilight arrived, and I’d already decided on getting myself some bodyguards. I told Twilight my decision and I’m giving her the freedom to choose which three will protect me (I choose three because I need two to cover my flanks and one to cover my rear). I told her to base her decision not only on size, but also on character. I’d rather have a regular 150 lb guy with the heart of a lion on my side than a 250 lb gorilla with the heart of a rabbit. I’m guessing Sunset learned this lesson this morning. It would gravely disappoint me if she didn’t.

We spent the rest of the night just having some lighthearted fun with each other. Played some cards. She had dinner with me, too. She told me that I should come to her house one day so she could show me around. “Why not?” I asked to myself. So she’s going to come to my house tomorrow after school in her car so she could drive me to her place. It’ll be interesting seeing the inside of a rich girl’s house.

Wednesday, October 1, 2013:

I figured there’d be no booze at Twilight’s house, so I got buzzed ahead of time. I also got to reading some of the fiction that’s made the school newspaper’s “Must Read” section. A fantasy book called “Keepers of the Mythical Code”. It’s pretty light and fun reading compared to what I’m used to. It’s a book about this group of assassins who ally themselves with a dwarven kingdom to defend some ancient magical tome from a necromancer and his vast skeleton army. This is some pretty nerdy shit. Twilight would love it. She’s into this nerdy stuff. Fluttershy, on the other hand, still isn’t talking to me. She sent me a hate message, which really isn’t like her considering how docile she normally is. She’s really upset about what I did to Sunset Shimmer’s flunky. The bastard deserved it, but I don’t want to get into it with her.

The vanguard-in-training is already close to finishing the third volume of “Capital”. I’m proud of them. We’ll be moving on to Lenin within a couple weeks. Since there aren’t really any opposing communist sects as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think it’s really necessary to go over books like “Left Communism: An Infantile Disorder”, but I should definitely teach them Lenin’s vanguardism, his works on imperialism, and his contributions to dialectical materialism. They’re soaking it up like sponges at this point. Twilight is doing a really good job of making these ideas palatable to them.

She and I discussed this while we were at her house. She’s read far ahead of everyone else. I bet she gets good grades. She told me that she wants to start reading Trotsky. I told her to be careful when reading him, to think critically, and to pay attention to Stalin’s criticisms of him. I also told her about Trotsky’s unfortunate accident with an ice pick, just to make sure she stays in line.

She has a video game console and a wide screen TV in her room. It’s a PlayStation 3. She likes to play all those middle ages fantast setting games. I just smirked and shook my head at how much of a nerd she is when I saw that pile of game boxes next to that overpriced PlayStation. We played together until late at night. Naturally, she demolished me in that game every single time, but it was all in good fun. Her dad just told us to go to bed. She wants me to sleep in the bed with her. She’s pretty much my girlfriend anyway at this point, so why not?

Thursday, October 2, 2013:

I stayed at Twilight’s for the day. I went ahead and raided the fridge while her lawyer dad was at work and her mom was doing the laundry. There’s some booze, but nothing that’ll even give me a buzz. Just a lone six pack of beer. It’s some rich guy brand, an imported lager, so I decided to drink it anyway just to see how it tasted. This tasted much sharper and crisper than the swill my dad used to get before he switched to the good stuff. This is the first time I’ve ever actually enjoyed booze for anything other than just the alcohol content.

Twilight’s dad came home early. As in, before Twilight. When he saw his beer was gone, he immediately accused me. I gave him some snide comment after I admitted to drinking his beer. He swiftly kicked me out of the house, forcing me to walk something like six miles back home. I’d have beaten the shit out of him and stolen his car if he weren’t Twilight’s father. That means I had to meet up with the vanguard about 20 minutes late. Twilight later told me that she think her father is a dick, and I don’t blame her. I also asked her not to come visit me until next week lest her father become suspicious and look into what we’re doing.

Friday, October 3, 2013:

Twilight finally hand-picked some bodyguards for me. They came to my house after school, in uniform, during my session with the vanguard. These are some pretty muscular guys. I can tell they’re pretty sporty. Two of them are on the basketball team, and another one is a wrestler. To test their mettle, I had them punch each others’ abs multiple times. They were reluctant at first, but out of respect for me, they did what they were told. They punched each other until they were red in the belly, and they showed little sign of pain. That’s a good trait in a fighter. I also gave them a little quiz on the ideology. Simple stuff that every communist should know. They passed with flying colors.

I spent the rest of the day teaching them the hand to hand combat techniques that I learned in jail. I also gave them each flathead screwdrivers that I had them each sharpen with coarse rocks. Why not a knife like me? Because they’re not quite as experienced in keeping that shit hidden as I am. I don’t want them to get in trouble for bringing weapons to school since that would give me unwanted negative publicity.

Saturday, October 4, 2013:

Fluttershy finally got the nerve to message me on Facebook. She said she was sorry for saying nasty things to me, and she wanted to make it up to me today. I gave her my address and a message saying that we shouldn’t let shit like that compromise our friendship. We talked a little bit. She said that Sunset Shimmer has been a bit quieter since that incident with one of her thugs, and that she’s having a pretty hard time spreading nasty rumors about me. I guess the students respect me. Either that, or they fear me. She’s been attacking some other students, however, in an attempt at re-asserting her dominance in my absence. Fluttershy tells me that I’ve gained notoriety by having the party members wear a uniform, and that she didn’t even know about the party until she started seeing several guys and gals in red shirts and steel-toed boots. She also tells me that Shimmer is afraid to attack any student who wears the uniform. She wants to join the party for protection, although she claims not to be a supporter of communism. That can’t happen. I can’t have non-communists join the party

This did give me an idea, though. Sunset Shimmer is afraid of the unity and discipline of the party coupled by my personal reputation. Why not use this to accrue funds? We could use some money to buy more advanced recruitment techniques, and possibly better weapons. From Monday forward, the party will, for a small fee of $50 a week (the rich fucks can pay for it), provide protection for any non-party member. The cash will be rolling in. Of course, Fluttershy was the first to take this very special offer.

Sunday, October 5, 2013:

Twilight sent me a list of about 10 other recruits. I told her about my idea to charge students a weekly fee to keep Sunset Shimmer off their backs. She doesn’t like this business-like method of gathering funds, but she’s willing to make a compromise for the good of the party.

Just imagine what we could do with, say, 100 students giving us $50 each every week. That’s $5000 a week! $20000 a month! Imagine the kinds of things we can do with that money. We can actually set up a proper hotline service that caters to more than just recruitment. We can rent a music studio and make music CD’s for the party. We can get animators to make propaganda videos. We can bribe the cops to make them turn a blind eye to our less… lawful activities. The sky’s the limit. This time next week, the party will be one of the school’s most powerful forces.

To celebrate, I got piss stinking drunk. Someone knocked on my door as I was just finishing my third bottle of vodka. It was Fluttershy. I got pissed at her because she didn’t come yesterday like she said. Everything was really blurry at that time, but I remember grabbing at her titties and trying to take her clothes off in a drunken stupor, saying something about her making it up to me by letting me fuck her. She ran away in a fright, but not before she took a picture of my room on her phone.

Monday, October 6, 2013:

Just walking into the school, I could see the flyers everywhere. “Harassed by bullies? Donate a small fee of $50 every Friday to the Students’ Democratic Committee for our anti-bullying services! Contact us at our number to ask about us!” It also gives a PO box to what is apparently where we’re going to collect.

Of course, just having armed bodyguards and students in uniform who respect and follow me is a great feeling. Sunset Shimmer knows what it’s like to be feared. Now I know what it’s like to be both loved and feared. She’s losing power quickly. I can smell it.

Even in AP English, I get a sense of her newfound weakness. I make sure to smile and wave to her. She normally just gives me a rude look, which I just let slide because I get off on it, but no more. She doesn’t raise her hand up very often anymore. I tap her on the shoulder at random times in class to annoy her. She gets really angry. And when she gets angry, I get a stiffy. I’d keep doing it at certain points until the teacher catches me and tells me to quit it. Before I stop, I make sure I give the teacher a snarky comment.

The vanguard has been studying Lenin for quite some time. Since they’ve been reading his works, I’ve noticed more cohesiveness and discipline in the ranks. It is at this point I decided for the party to have a salute. I really like the Nazi salute, but that’s taken, and doing it with a closed fist is just cheap. I’ve come up with the following: extend the right arm forward, at chest level, with the arm bent at a 90 degree angle. I guess it’ll do. I’ve given the vanguard the task of teaching this new salute to the recruits.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. Did some homework and re-read some Marx and Engels. “Anti-During” is interesting as always.

Tuesday, October 7, 2013:

Some of the outer party members caught Snips and Snails, Sunset Shimmer’s closest lackeys and possible sex slaves, tearing down our posters. Snips? Didn’t I kick his ass last month? Whatever. From what I hear, the damage was pretty brutal. Some broken bones and skin. The two party members who beat them up brandished knuckle dusters. The police are still looking for the perpetrators. I know who did it, though, and I personally walked up to them between second and third period and shook their hands. Not many outer party members get to meet me personally, so I imagine it’s quite an honor for them.

Twilight told me during vanguard hour that too much of this sort of this violence could be bad for the party’s relations with the other students, though. I assured her that we wouldn’t touch any student who doesn’t directly oppose us.

Wednesday, October 8, 2013:

Twilight just introduced me to a most promising recruit. A top-grade year AP Advanced Chemistry student named Sweetie Belle. Ah, such things the party could do with such a comrade! And her knowledge of the ideology could rival some members of the vanguard! This is a good day for communism. This one is something special to be sure. The only problem is she’s really young, and her two less important friends, Applebloom and Scootaloo, also wanted to join. Scootaloo is in my Engineering class, but I hadn’t really noticed her up until now.

Twilight decided to come stay with me for the night, too. We were playing cards when she suddenly pulled my head to her lips and tuck her tongue in my mouth. I don’t really feel like writing smut at the moment, but one thing led to another, and we had passionate, non-drunken sex. I have no idea what made her do it. I guess she was just in the mood.

Thursday, October 9, 2013:

I saw one of the outer party members consoling a non-party member, a petite little girl, who was in some corner crying about something. This looked like something that concerned me (I have to make sure comrades aren’t arbitrarily attacking non-members), so I decided to go take a look.

The comrade told me that this little girl couldn’t afford the fee, so some of Sunset Shimmer and a couple of her lackeys stripped her to her underwear and tied her to a pole overnight, leaving her to freeze in the cold. Oh, that Sunset Shimmer. I swear she’s the sexiest girl alive.

Still, I know just how that little girl feels. Some of the local gangs at Manehattan Middle School would demand protection fees not unlike the party’s. I had to fight off bullies all the time because I barely made enough money by robbing wanderers into unsafe places to feed my family. Sometimes I got lucky, but I usually got my ass kicked. I hadn’t been given the inmate’s introduction to manhood at that time, so I was too afraid to fight back. To cope, I would sneak into my dad’s booze cabinet and help myself to his cheap vodka. It dulled the pain just enough for me to go on.

However, what I do know is that people like this girl don’t need money. They need camaraderie and a place where they belong. Besides, I just can’t start making these kinds of exceptions. It’s bad for business. So instead of giving this girl my blessing from the party, I gave her something better: a copy of the Communist Manifesto, a flyer with the party’s contact info, and some reassuring words. In return, she smiled and gave me a hug. I have to remember to keep doing these kinds of things. A reputation as a nice man will get me far. Plus, I’m fairly certain we got ourselves a zealous recruit today.

Friday, October 10, 2013:

Twilight just gave me a count of the number of students who are paying for protection. 103. Doing the math in my head, that’s a big wad of cash. She says we’ll have the money by tomorrow, each $50 in an envelope with the name and student number of each payer so we can keep track of who’s paying their full dues and who’s not. She also tells me that there are a fair amount of students who don’t really believe in the ideology and just pay lip service to join the party in an attempt at getting protection without having to pay dues. I told Twilight that these individuals will be allowed to join, but punishments for deriding party doctrine, defaming party individuals (especially members of the vanguard), and failing to carry out their duty in any capacity will be far more severe than ever before. Even a single infraction concerning these will result in eviction from the party and intense beating. Twilight was offended that I would let in such insincere non-ideologues, but I told her that these people would be in our ranks no matter what we do, so we should create certain rules to weed them out. I’m convinced that comrades who do these things neither in public nor private will come to believe in the ideology if they don’t already.

Saturday, October 11, 2013:

That wonderful comrade, Twilight Sparkle, came to my house personally with the full money count of $5150. We connected with the entire vanguard on Skype, and we talked about what we were going to do with the money. After some discussion, we decided to make propaganda in the form of music. What kind of music? We discussed the different cliques and their distinct tastes in music. We didn’t want to recruit any hipsters because they represent a pretty big portion of our protection money and they would make poor recruits. Loser and bums are… well, losers and bums. Not good party material. We really would like to appeal to jocks and the few students who come from proletarian background. Twilight and I are divided on whether or not we really want to target the nerdy kids. This division is pretty much based on how well we think they could apply their smarts for the good of the party (chemistry and engineering are a couple exceptions to my rule that nothing nerds like is useful). There are some other cliques, but they never really came up as important. So we’ve decided on focusing on two genres: rock, rap, and country. We’ll make CD’s for each genre. For this, we’ll dedicate a budget of $3000. There being five police officers, we will pay each of them $200 each week to turn a blind eye to any and all party activities within reason. The rest will be saved in a comrade’s personal safe.

Who would create such music for us? DJ-PON3 is a student at the school who pays us protection money. The vanguard seems to agree that she would be fairly cheap for the fairly decent skills she would employ. She is no sympathizer for the cause, so we have no choice but to pay her generously for her services. Her ability to synthesize certain sounds on sound generation programs and her connections in the music industry will ensure that she does a good job.

Sunday, October 12, 2013:

There is a comrade in the outer party who is a passing acquaintance of DJ-PON3. Luckily, he knows her address. Nobody asked how. He probably stalks her or something. Anyway, I had a group of three vanguard members go to her house in uniform and strike a deal with her. We’d give her the $3000. In return, she would give us 3 labeled CD’s, each representing one of the genres we chose, each with several pro-communist songs, giving her the ability to spend however much of the money she needs. Each song would have to be approved by these vanguard members. The way I hear it, she thought it a pretty lucrative deal. We’re giving her two weeks to make these songs and have them finished. If she doesn’t, then we’ll get our money back with or without the use of force, depending on the situation.

Monday, October 13, 2013:

I’m looking around the lunchroom and I see this group of clowns in costumes that resemble the uniforms of the party, except their shirts are black and their laces are white. They would give each other the Nazi salute as a greeting and a farewell while saying “hail the fuehrer”. The fuehrer? Who is the son of a bitch who is trying to get power in MY school? My first thought was that, maybe, Sunset Shimmer had something to do with this, and she might even be this “fuehrer” they’re talking about.

I commissioned Twilight to interrogate her personally. She tells me she took two female outer party comrades and dragged her into a stall in the girls’ bathroom during 4th period. Despite threats to torture her, she remained defiant. Twilight felt compelled to let one of the comrades who brandished a knuckle duster punch her just below the stomach (very sensitive area for a girl). After wailing in terrible pain, she said she had no clue who the fuehrer was. Twilight actually said that she was starting to feel sympathy for Shimmer, but her iron dedication to the cause allowed her to move forward. She and a comrade pinned Shimmer’s arms to one of the walls of the stall, making sure she couldn’t cover her sensitive area. However, before another punch could be made, she spilled the beans to Twilight. Twilight tells me that the ringleader is no student, but a teacher! My most dedicated comrade assured me that Sunset Shimmer has nothing to do with this fascist uprising. According to Sunset Shimmer, this blackshirt organization was created by an AP Economics teacher and staunch fascist named Bolt Rune with the aim of limiting communist power, and ultimately destroying the party.

I and the vanguard discussed this vigorously. This is a teacher, so no doubt he’s subjecting select students to his brand of mental illness four or five hours a day, and is actually gaining support. It’s mostly ex-flunkies of Sunset Shimmer who no longer fear or respect her seeing as she’s faced constant humiliation at the hands of the party. Shimmer, although not being nearly as strong as she was before I arrived, still has a handful of loyal followers (including Snips and Snails), and still presents a slight danger to some of the weaker students. Therefore, students are still willing to pay for protection, but the fascists are attempting to undersell us by 50%. We need to destroy this counterrevolutionary organization before our hegemony is compromised.

Cui Bono?

Tuesday, October 14, 2013:

Just today, when I was walking down the halls after 2nd period, I saw jackbooted fascists beating up a couple hipsters. I normally don’t give a shit when people get beat up (it happened in Manehattan High and in jail all the time), but I would later come to learn from one of the vanguard members that these people were paying for protection from us. If those idiots had read the fine print, then they would know that the deal only protects them from Sunset Shimmer and her lot, but apparently, they don’t think they’re getting their money’s worth for just that. Twilight tells me about dozens of our clients revoking their protection with us since this incident and going with the cheaper fascist protection, which, according to some members of the vanguard, protects them from all threats within the school. She says that we might have lost at least half of our clients. This is unacceptable. I’ve decided to give outer party members the go-ahead to attack anyone who is not under our protection. We’ll do this for the rest of the school week and see what happens.

Wednesday, October 15, 2013:

News from the vanguard. A couple outer party members who were harassing Sunset Shimmer (cat calls, lewd comments, etc.) during the lunch period were stabbed by a group of four fascists brandishing switchblades. Apparently, she’s buying fascist protection these days.

The fascists have fancied calling themselves the Canterlot Kings. Some of our party members have reacted to this, calling them the Canterlot Queens despite them being a mostly male group. We communists usually just refer to ourselves as the Party, although we don’t really have an official name.

Pinkie Pie came to my house with a fascist. A real gorilla of a man – enormous with a stupid-looking face – with a nailed two-by-four. She was also wearing the fascist uniform. Still, I didn’t want to pick a fight right there, so I decided to be polite to this pink bitch. She just wanted to tell me that the fascist leader, Bolt Rune, wanted to meet me face to face in the hallway of the third floor, west wing, thirty minutes after school, during vanguard time. I guess this is could be an opportunity for some diplomacy, so I told Pinkie that I’d be there tomorrow.

I talked it over with Twilight. She and I both suspect that this could be an ambush. I’ve decided to send an urgent email to all outer party members, telling them to spread themselves all around the third floor immediately after school in search of fascists. I told them to give any fascists they find a “wash” (our slang for intense beating).

Thursday, October 16, 2013:

The fascists were suspiciously quiet all throughout the school day. There were no harsh words, no beatings, and no extortion from the fascists today. Even in the lunch room, they were unusually well-behaved. We vanguard members sit in a separate table from the outer party (who mostly just sit and eat lunch with either their original friend groups mixed with members and non-members, or with smaller groups of outer party members, so we’re normally not part of whatever scuffles happen during lunchtime, although we do hear about them. There were no arguments or shouting matches between fascists and communists today despite some jeering from outer party members.

Twilight told me at lunch how happy she was that the fascists were finally getting quiet for a change. Snips and Snails even handed a letter to me, personally, saying that there would be a truce between communists and fascists for the week. Some of our less bright vanguard members even suggested that the fascists might be backing down. I almost believed this sort of thing myself, and I admit that I did let my guard down a little, but I know from experience and through knowledge of history that this sort of sudden, artificial peace is never genuine. As the great Stalin said, “If any foreign minister begins to defend to the death a ‘peace conference,’ you can be sure his government has already placed its orders for new battleships and aeroplanes. “ I was not alone in this. Several vanguard members shared my skepticism.

Turns out I was half right. Bolt Rune really did come as he promised, but he brought with him a pair of armed brutes about the same size and strength as my own, and he had fascists stationed in hidden places of the room, probably so he could coerce me to agree to deals that would benefit the fascists. Fascist and communist confrontations on the third floor proved to be a stalemate. Both sides were armed with switchblades and knuckle dusters, so I and Bolt Rune immediately made it known throughout the floor that neither fascist nor communist would attack one another for the time being, as neither of us wanted heavy casualties.

Bolt turned out to be a real snake of a man. Tall, but wiry and thin, and pale as the driven snow. He had steel blue eyes that could destroy a lesser man, but his voice was somewhat high-pitched, and he had a lisp.

We both came to a few agreements: that Sunset Shimmer was no longer a threat as long as either communist or fascist forces remain in the school; that what we both want is our respective ideologies to have total dominance in the school; that, in order for there to be peace, one must wipe out the other; and that police are not to be trusted.

He tells me that he and Sunset Shimmer have an alliance and that I should lay off my humiliation campaign against her or else face retribution. I suspect that, if they have any alliance at all, it is shaky. After all, how would she benefit from fascist alliance besides simple vengeance against me? And how would the fascists benefit from Sunset Shimmer, the powerless has-been of the school with nothing but her two boy toys? She would simply be a puppet of the fascists, and if I know Sunset Shimmer well at all, then I know that she would not want to be anyone’s puppet.

I’ve decided not to make any threats against the fascists for now. And even if it is unlikely, I still have to assume that they are allies, and that I should not trust her (as if I’d ever trust her to begin with!) I also cannot humiliate her anymore, and I must treat her with respect. That is going to be a real disappointment, especially since it would also reflect weakness on me. Of course, should she ever decide to get uppity and attack me, I’ll have no choice but to act swiftly and brutally regardless of fascist intentions.

In any case, we (Bolt and I) have decided that our ideologies must fight not only with steel and fists, but also with words. Therefore, on the second Monday of November, we will, with the approval of Principal Celestia, have a debate in the school auditorium, the subject being the role of the state. I agreed, and we shook hands on it. I am fairly certain that there is an unspoken agreement that we will have every communist and fascist in the school attend in order to protect ourselves. I cannot and will not trust Bolt, just as I suspect he does not trust me. We’ve also decided that, until the end of the debate, fascists will not attack communists, nor vice versa, but civilians are free game. Because the entireties of the communist and fascist forces were present, we will not have to send memos.

Friday, October 17, 2013:

A last-minute thought of mine dictated that I make a little change to the protection deal. The protection fee would be lowered to $35, would cover all threats, and they would be able to pay a simple fee to have someone they don’t like beaten up. $20 for a light beating, and $35 for an intense beating. The severity of each beating will depend on the implements used – a light beating will use no weapons, an intense beating will use steel implements such as switchblades and knuckle dusters.

A letter was sent to me by a fascist diplomat during lunch. It was from Bolt Rune. It said that he would get Celestia’s approval for the debate, and that he would send me an update on Monday. He says he figures that, in Celestia’s mind, victory from either party would beget an end to the violence. I don’t have any opinion of this, as I don’t know Celestia very well, but it does make sense.

Twilight wanted to stay with me for the weekend. She’s so damned clingy. I don’t like it. Still, she is my right-hand gal in the vanguard, and she’s zealously dedicated to the cause, so I don’t want to disappoint her.

She tells me that 84 students had paid for protection today. That means $4250 -- $1000 to bribe police, $500 to purchase weapons, and the rest to be saved. Simple enough, but I’d really like to break 100 again. We didn’t lose as many actual customers as I thought, but in reality, we’ve lost legions of potential clients who weren’t paying us for protection. We estimate that at least 150 students pay for fascist protection.

Saturday, October 18, 2013:

Twilight and I spent our time getting drunk and fooling around, mostly. She doesn’t get to drink booze at her house, and I’m not really supposed to be drinking either, so it’s a real treat for both of us. Nobody except us knows that we actually do this. Anyway, she brought us the money today. When she was particularly drunk (she gets drunk faster than I do), she said that she’d embezzle $1000 from the party bank so she could buy cocaine so we could have even more fun. Now, I’ve had my share of illegal drugs back in my jailbird days, so I wasn’t really offended by the fact that she’d want us to take drugs. However, I did take offense to her suggestion that she’d embezzle funds, so I gave her a swift punch in the face and gave her the silent treatment, forcing her to sleep on the hard wooden floor for the night.

Sunday, October 19, 2013:

I decided to check up on DJ PON-3. Or rather, check up on the vanguard members who keep tabs on her progress. They say that she’s making excellent progress, and should have a finished product by Wednesday. Ahead of schedule, I see. Unfortunately, I also learned that on Thursday last week, Sunset Shimmer forced herself into head of the school newspaper with backing from fascist muscle. I guess Bolt Rune wasn’t lying when he said that he and Shimmer were in bed with each other. I guess we can expect some real slander from Thursday’s newspaper.

Monday, October 20, 2013:

Back to school. I noticed that one of the fascists spray-painted a swastika on a row of lockers. He was caught by the school janitor and suspended for a week. I have to make sure no communist engages in vandalism.

There was a particularly ferocious beating perpetrated by members of the outer party today. It was that little girl that I personally recruited one or two weeks ago. I confronted her personally about it. Her friend (a big, fat bitch, she tells me) said something about the party being nothing but a bunch of no-good bullies who extort money from the students, no better than the fascists. She promptly got out her knuckle dusters and just wailed on her. She broke her nose, crushed her left eye, and broke several bones in the skull. She was unconscious and spitting out blood by the time this comrade was finished. There being lots of witnesses (unlike most other violence in this school), she naturally got in trouble with the staff. I really like this comrade, so I decided to go with her to Celestia’s office.

The little girl was almost expelled. Almost sent to jail, in fact. I lied to Celestia and said that I was there. I told her that I saw the whole thing and that her friend took the first swing and pinned her down, so she naturally had to defend herself. Through a little bit of intimidation (there was the implication that sending my comrade to jail would cause a communist outrage, and that she might be “caught in the crossfire”), my comrade was not punished for beating up her friend, but she was suspended for a week because she brought weapons to school.

Tuesday, October 21, 2013:

Things are tense in the vanguard lunch table. A few vanguard members recalled the Weimar Republic, and how Hitler ultimately put himself up at the head of the state by having Goebbels burn down the Reichstag and blame the communists. That, perhaps, this truce was meant to pacify us and focus our attention on civilians so that they could get enough resources to stage a similar black propaganda campaign. I let this swim in my mind for a while. What if they’re right? At perhaps more than twice our client number, they’re probably making more money than we are. They’re making more than enough money to; perhaps, sabotage some school sports game or some school formal and fund a propaganda campaign to blame it on us! No, that can’t happen. We need to break this truce at some point, but not now. The fascists are getting too cozy with it. We’ll let them have their money for now, because we’re going to take it later.

A member of the vanguard (not a member of the outer party since a vanguard member is less likely to become a double agent) will infiltrate the fascists by joining them. He will be wearing the uniform of the fascists, but in his heart, he will remain a communist. He will attempt to find out where their money is kept, and after they’ve collected for two weeks, he will steal the money and bring it to us. We will then break the truce by ambushing as many fascists as possible. This is an excellent plan in my opinion, and the vanguard agrees. I’ve already chosen someone who will go. She’s a real dark-skinned beauty, and her tongue is razor sharp. Comrade Chrysalis will go to infiltrate the fascists and transfer their funds to our account.

Wednesday, October 22, 2013:

At lunch, we had to deal with the fascists gloating about how they were able to “convert” a member of the infamous vanguard to their side. What fools. Don’t they know a Trojan horse when they see one? I guess the chance that it wasn’t a ruse was just too good for them to pass up. We were stifling laughs the whole time. Twilight couldn’t help but to smile, so she kept her head down while we covered her. Fascists got real uppity.

Regrettably, we cannot have comrade Chrysalis come to our vanguard hour because she needs to gain the trust of the fascists, and having that clutter up her schedule could arouse suspicion. Still, she is able to contact us over Skype, if only for 30 minutes or so at a time. She has not much to tell us about the fascists other than the rumors and the gossip that goes on in the lower ranks. She tells us that she is trying to arrange a meeting with Rune Bolt so that she can cozy up to him and beguile him to tell her the secrets of their worthless gang of thugs.

Thursday, October 23, 2013:

The school newspaper came out today. Aside from the usuals, we saw a special article on the party. What I saw was nothing but dishonest, vicious slander. She called us a violent gang that extorts money from students and promotes an ideology of hatred and death. Not true! Communism is an ideology of equality and brotherhood, and we do not extort money, we provide security services at a fair price! She also compared me to Stalin. I’m flattered, really, but that’s not good for PR. Fortunately, she also denounced the fascists. She called them hate-filled thugs that are no better than we are, and she compared Bolt Rune to Hitler. Hah! I guess she’s no puppet of the fascists after all. That’s my girl!

Otherwise, things are fairly stable today. The vanguard member that I put in charge of weapons was able to buy such wonderful things as spiked knuckle dusters, machetes, and zip guns. These being far too dangerous to keep on school grounds, I’ve decided to keep them at another comrade’s house, taking them out only for the debate. However, I’ve decided that the more subtle zip guns should be carried by me and my bodyguards at all times. We can never be too careful. We never know what the fascists will do, so we need to be prepared for anything.

Friday, October 24, 2013:

Comrade Chrysalis just met Bolt Rune today after she was able to convince some fascists that it was safe. She shook his hand and invited him to dinner tomorrow. I’ve decided that she was allowed to have $300 from the party’s safe to schmooze Bolt.

Saturday, October 25, 2013:

Got drunk again. I do this every weekend. I’m starting to wish Twilight were here, but I guess she can’t be with me every weekend. I didn’t do anything particularly productive for that time, not even meeting up with the vanguard like I was supposed to. I pretty much just played strategy games all day. Even drunk, the AI in these games is far too easy. That’s why I don’t really play them often. I tried to play multiplayer, but mods on every server kicked me for sexually harassing girl gamers. I swear a couple of them liked the attention.

Sunday, October 26, 2013:

I had someone knocking on my door. I decided not to answer, but as the knocks turned into bangs, my drunk ass father opened the door. It was the three members of the vanguard who paid DJ PON-3 all that money. They were carrying a bunch of CD cases, all sporting communist imagery. They assured me that the product was top notch. I didn’t really want to bother with listening to every song, so I had them come in my room and play a couple tracks from each song. Of course, that fucking retarded DJ couldn’t come up with something original. She really thought I wouldn’t see all those blatant rip-offs of music from the USSR and the DPRK? Still, she was able to remix the sounds and lyrics well enough, and I suppose I can respect the ability to roughly translate a text and still retain the canon and rhyme scheme. Plus, I doubt hardly anybody is going to notice. All in all, I think this worked out.

Monday, October 27, 2013:

A member of the vanguard told us of an outer party member who happened to be a computer whiz, and he wanted to create the official party website. I think it’s a good plan, and I’m putting him in charge of the project. He asks me if I should pay for a premium server that lots of people would find on a search engine. I declined since we really only need our high school students to know about it, so I’m having him go with a cheap one. By tomorrow, we’ll have new flyers advertising the new website. I reminded this comrade not to put anything incriminating in the website.

Tuesday, October 28, 2013:

This Friday should be the second collection week for the fascists. Comrade Chrysalis finally found out where the fascists keep their money, but she also tells me that to get this information, she had to give her body to Bolt Rune. All of us in the vanguard commended her on her valiant sacrifice for the cause. Apparently, it’s in Bolt Rune’s basement. She tells us that she will have their money secure for us by Sunday.

Wednesday, October 29, 2013:

Another quiet day of school. I witnessed the beating of a non-supporting civilian by three communists. One of them glanced at me; I gave her a thumb up and a grin. It’s nice giving moral support to your comrades on the ground once in a while. I was with Twilight at the time, and she wanted to talk to me personally. I gave her the time of my day in some corner of the hallway, and showed her disapproval of me encouraging violence against people who aren’t under our protection. However, once I reminded her of our cause and the plight of the proletariat, she reluctantly subdued her own sense of ethics for the good of the party and for the good of the proletariat.

Thursday, October 30, 2013:

Comrade Chrysalis just learned the combination to the safe from Bolt. She and Bolt are fucking every day at this point. She says he’s a terrible lay with breath that smells like ass. Of course, she knows that she won’t have to do this anymore once she gets the money, and she understands that she’ll be labeled a traitor by the fascists and made a target. I am proud of her. She is a shining example of a good communist.

Friday, October 31, 2013:

Collection day for both us and the fascists. Twilight says that 91 people have paid for protection this week. $3185, plus $340 for our punishment services. $1000 to the police, as usual. We’ll save the rest. Twilight decided to keep me company for the weekend.

Saturday, November 1, 2013:

Hah! Today should be the last day that the brave comrade Chrysalis has to suffer from fascist cock. Twilight and I estimate that we should have an excess of $3750 from the heist. With this money combined with what we have already, we could buy all kinds of guns, ammo, and propaganda! We wouldn’t even have to fire a single bullet. The fascists would be so scared of getting shot that they would shrivel up into little balls, and their clients would be mine! We would eventually be able to buy off the fascists and incorporate them into the party.

Sunday, November 2, 2013:

No word from comrade Chrysalis. This is disconcerting. She might just be laying low until Monday. She might also be trying to surprise me with a huge heist, but I don’t like surprises. I emailed her just today. No response. I talked about this to Twilight. She says that comrade Chrysalis can be a little weird sometimes. She used to brood a lot, she says. Fair enough, but I’ll be sure to give her the most scathing criticism come vanguard hour.

Monday, November 3, 2013:

It looks like my worst fears have been confirmed. I was in my locker getting books for English when I heard a scream from down the hall. It was Twilight. A large crowd had formed around her, so I went to investigate. Communist, civilian, and fascist alike were shocked at what they found. I had some of my comrades clear a path in the crowd for me to get past. I admit, I didn’t really expect the conflict to come to this, but history dictates that these things happen eventually. I saw comrade Chrysalis’ severed head with a couple bullet holes coming out the forehead. It looked and smelled like it had been there since yesterday. The only ones in the crowd who seemed relatively unphased were me and Sunset Shimmer. There was a note in the mouth. I removed and read it. It read in large print written in blood, “Steel Cog is next!”

Needless to say, the truce is over. In comrade Chrysalis’ honor, I ordered any and all communists to attack any fascist and non-supporting citizen possible. Due to this order, there was a brawl in the hallway which was stopped by police. By the time it was over, pools and stains of blood and the groans and moans of pain littered the halls. Due to our bribery of the police, no communist was punished. I don’t know about the fascists. They’re probably bribing the cops as well.

Twilight and I have decided to honor the memory of comrade Chrysalis by attending her funeral along with nine other comrades. Seven comrades, including myself and my three bodyguards, will bring our zip guns to fire in the air, and we will have the other two comrades learn how to fold the crimson flag in a triangle in proper military tradition. Her funeral is on Wednesday.

Tuesday, November 4, 2013:

It’s been a quiet day today. Many communists and fascists are in the hospital for now due to yesterday’s brawl (which is being called by students as the “Battle of the Black Head”), and those of us who remain do not want to fight anymore. Comrade Chrysalis’ death was officially part of the morning announcements. Lunch has been silent and solemn. At the end of school, there was little conversation among classmates. It looks like they’re still thinking about that severed head.

Wednesday, November 5, 2013:

Every comrade in the party decided to take off from school to attend comrade Chrysalis’ funeral. There were so many of us that the seats of the funeral house were full, so some of her family members had to stand. This is a funeral, so there wasn’t much to say about it, really. Her father had already died a couple years back, so her mother was a total wreck, flooding the room with tears and wails of sorrow. She had one brother, a member of the outer party, and a sister, a middle schooler, who also cried. I shook their hands and expressed my deepest condolences. I had comrades guard the perimeter of the funeral building to ensure that no fascist could intervene.

Everything proceeded normally, with as close to military honors as our comrades could get with this funeral. The seven of us brought a zip gun and two bullets each (one extra in case the first failed). Her mother would not take the folded crimson flag in its case as per military tradition, so we decided to display it in the vanguard room so that we may be inspired by her valiant sacrifice.

After the funeral, Twilight and I spent the rest of the day in my room where she cried on my shoulder for at least an hour. Then she got angry at me because I wasn’t crying with her. I had to tell her that a real communist celebrates death. The death of a man resolves the dialectic between the man and nature. That didn’t make her feel any better, so to make her feel better, I decided to make love to her tonight. She wasn’t initially in the mood, but I was able to schmooze my way into having her let me do it. She did feel a bit more relaxed afterwards, and went right to sleep.

Thursday, November 6, 2013:

Many of our comrades came back to school in casts, crutches, and stitches, as did many fascists. There is still much animosity between fascists and communists, but there is not quite so much violence since at least half of both sides are incapacitated. However, there is still the occasional scuffle, which happened between two communists and three fascists between 2nd and 3rd period today. Neither side was armed with any weapons, so nobody was seriously injured.

The vanguard is preparing a speech that one of our comrades will use to address the students during lunchtime. We even got him a megaphone so he can talk over the inevitable petulant jeering of the fascists.

Friday, November 7, 2013:

Lunch. We had prepared a speech of about fifteen minutes long for lunch about the departure of our dear comrade Chrysalis and, of course, the inevitable communist victory. However, about three minutes in, the fascists started throwing food at the speaker. Today was spaghetti and meatballs day, so it got pretty sloppy on the stage. I ordered every available outer party member to brandish a weapon and attack the fascists. Caught unprepared, the fascists surrendered. The speech was, after this brief interruption, finished.

Saturday, November 8, 2013:

Twilight and I spend all day helping me study for the debate. I’ve been studying a little bit since Bolt first set this up, but we’re going to go all out today. Not even any booze, not even any sex. We study until we sleep.

Sunday, November 9, 2013:

Tomorrow’s the debate. I’m just really tired. Too tired to write much here, actually. See you tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 11, 2013:

I’m writing this from the Canterlot hospital bed. Why? There’s a story behind it.

After 2nd period was the great debate. Every communist there was armed to the teeth with zip guns and machetes and spiked knuckle dusters, even the vanguard. Many fascists had fire axes and Glocks. Anyway, the debate seemed to go swimmingly. That intellectually dishonest bastard Bolt Rune was standing there dodging questions, misrepresenting my arguments, backpedaling, and generally being a dick. It was obvious that he didn’t prepare for this debate, seeing as he probably underestimated me for being young and having a criminal record. Through the words of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Stalin, I was able to not only hold my own against this so-called educated man, but show him off as the cowardly rat that he is.

This went on for about 45 minutes. When it was my turn to speak, I stood up. Just a split second later, I heard the crack of a gun, followed by a bullet going through my chest. I went down. As Twilight and another comrade went to drag me to safety, I heard two more gunshots. I have no idea who the assassin was aiming for beyond the point of my own injury, and I wasn’t really in the condition to wonder. Just as consciousness began to fade away from me, I heard several volleys of gunshots, followed by shouting and wails of pain. The last thing I remember of that last day was the quick glance I took at the audience. Fascists and communists were fighting with the very dangerous weapons. I’m sure many died on both sides.

So now I’m here, in the hospital, with a bullet wound in my chest. Several ribs are broken, and it hurts to breathe. X-ray scanning shows that the bullet is still inside me, just between my heart and my right lung. I’m lucky the would-be assassin missed my vitals.