Trixie's First Performance
“This is more than a little last minute, Lulu. The talent show is tonight.”
The student shuffled her hooves, an anxious air surrounding her. Her light silver hair shimmered in the light of the setting sun, peeking through the classroom window.
“Mrs. Seastone let Pepper and Pennywise into the show, and they only applied this morning.”
“As creepy as Penny was in a clown suit, she and Pepper had an act prepared. Do you have something prepared, Lulu?” A young teacher bent at her knees and lowered herself to the filly’s level. “There will be other talent shows. If you’re patient, you can put on a much better show with some practice.”
Lulu’s expression only dimmed. “Please Miss B? It needs to be tonight. I have an act I can do.”
“Why does it need to be tonight?”
The filly mumbled for a bit, refusing to make eye contact before admitting, “My parents are coming tonight, and I kinda told them I would be doing a monolog I’ve been practicing.”
“Oh,” Miss B didn’t look surprised. “Well if you’ve been practicing a monolog at home, then you should be okay. Are you doing to do that?”
Lulu shook her head. “I want to do a magic show.”
This time, the young teacher smiled. “That sounds interesting,” she said, “you’re a very talented unicorn for your age. I think a magic show would be very popular with your classmates. Have you been practicing a magic act too?”
“Nope, but do you really think everypony would like to see one? The other kids are kind of jerks.”
Miss B frowned. “Don’t say that about our classmates, Lulu. You’re just having some trouble fitting in because you’re so smart. I’m sure you’ll find some friends soon.”
“I don’t need friends,” Lulu scoffed. As an afterthought, though, she giggled, “But some admirers would be nice.”
A tense moment followed, as the teacher scrutinized her increasingly embarrassed protege. “Alright,” she finally relented. “I think doing a magic act is actually a great idea. Do you have any idea what you might perform?”
Relieved, Lulu concentrated and filled the room with colorful sparks and sharp explosive pops. “Just enough to show everypony what a powerful unicorn I’ll grow up to be, and how great it would be to hang out with me.”
Chuckling, Miss B ruffled the filly’s mane. “A great and powerful filly, huh? At least you aren’t lacking in humility.”
“Yup,” Lulu smiled brightly.
“I got to thinking a few days ago on my way home from school,” a greasy haired student began as she stood rigidly under the stage lights. “Why do we even have door knobs? No, wait, before you dismiss me, let me frame my argument.”
“I like doors as much as the next filly. They’re like movable walls and just a ton of fun to play with. Now I know what you’re thinking, how could playing with a door be any fun? Don’t knock it until you try it.”
A deafening silence filled the theatre as the filly struggled with the microphone. She giggled uncertainly. “My love of doors really hinges on whether they're open or closed though. I like closed doors, but they're often a bit too wooden. Open doors are welcoming, like a nice little restaurant run by a sweet, older couple. A nice little hole in the wall.”
A couple of parents in the upper rows of the theater quietly stood and moved towards the exit.
“Well, there go my parents,” the onstage comedian sighed. “I just don’t know where I lost you all. Maybe it's because I was trying to save my best material for last. I had this really cool observation about how weird and useless doorknobs are, but I wanted to be sure you could handle it….really? Nothing at all? I know I'm a dork, but come on. You’re all here for a talent show put on by children, right? Come on, you could at least throw me a few pity laughs.”
As the adorable filly floundered onstage, Lulu sought out her homeroom teacher in the audience.
“Miss B?”
Startled, the teacher turned to the uncertain filly calling her name. “Lulu?” she whispered. “Is something wrong? You should be going on soon, right?”
“Can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” With a gentle guiding hoof, the two of them made their way outside. When they reached the cool outside air, Lulu quickly enlightened her teacher.
“I’m not sure I want to go out on stage anymore. My parents are here, but they aren't in a great mood. I don’t want them to get mad at me.”
“Do you want me to talk to your parents?” Miss B offered. When Lulu shook her head, she adjusted her approach. “Are you afraid of your parent’s, Lulu?” Lulu was silent for a moment.
She answered carefully. “I don’t want to disappoint them. They really want me to do that monolog.”
"If you're sure this is what you want to do, I could go talk to Mrs. Seastone for you, Lulu, but you were so eager this morning. Your parents may be disappointed in you for a magic show tonight, but wouldn't you be disappointed in yourself if you have up too quickly?"
"There will be other talent shows, right?" Lulu's face was glassy. "I can try again next year."
Miss B shook her head. "You won't always be able to please your parents. Some things you need to do for you. Running away is a bad habit to get into."
"My parents really want to see me show off my monolog, though."
"That's just because they don't know what a great magician you are." Miss B smiled, prodding her protégé. "Tonight you can show them how great you are."
"Do you really think I'm that good?"
"I've always had an eye for talent, and you are one of the most talented unicorns I've ever seen, Lulu."
"Really?" The filly began to glow hotly. "Didn't you go to the SGU?"
"Yeah," the mare started slightly. "For a little while. I'm surprised you remember."
"You don't really talk about it, but it's always been my dream to go."
"Well I believe you have the talent, Lulu. I'll bet if you study diligently enough, you could outpace any of the other students your age. Now you just need to learn to believe in yourself."
"I don’t know," Lulu hesitated.
"Trust me, Lulu. Don't let yourself get trapped by your insecurities or other people's expectations. If you want to really be great and powerful, all you have to do is believe it and keep practicing, and you'll get there eventually." Miss B paused briefly. "You have a very enviable talent."
Lulu had visibly brightened. "Thanks Miss B. I'll try to remember that."
Moving to reopen the door to the theatre, Miss B gestured encouragingly. "I look forward to you showing me what a confident filly can do, Lulu."
The aspiring magician smirked. "You know Lulu isn't my name, right? It doesn't sound like the name of a great and powerful wizard at all."
"I think it's a cute nickname, but you're right. It isn't very inspiring." The two of them sniggered. "Maybe you should try a new name for your act."
"Maybe I will." Lulu beamed. "Thanks Miss B."
"Good luck, Lulu."
As her student wandered off with her advice, the young mare made her way back inside to her seat. Sidling past the other parents and teachers, Miss B eased herself back into spectating, a tiny smile gracing her lips.
When Lulu’s turn finally came to perform, she couldn’t help but lean forward in anticipation.
No fireworks or mysterious smoke heralded the arrival of a filly wizard. The stage stood silent while Lulu slowly worked her way to the center, her eyes glued to one section of the audience, despite the bright lights that must have kept her from seeing her audience at all clearly.
When she spoke, her words were not those of a charismatic caster, but the carefully crafted words of a practiced monolog. Her horn did not alight and delight her peers, but when her cutie mark appeared, her smile was certainly bright enough to rival the spotlight that shone upon her.
Confused and just a bit disappointed, Miss B went to try to see her student after the show to see what had gone wrong. However, Luminescent’s parents turned her away. The filly, they explained, was busy celebrating the arrival of her destiny.
Lacking an answer to the outcome of the performance, Miss B left the school and made her way to the hospital for the evening.
“Miss Bea, Principal Greasy would like to see you in his office.” Looking up from her desk and at Candy Apple, the principal’s secretary, Miss B took a moment to respond.
“Did he say what about?”
Candy shook her head. “No.”
“Alright.” Gathering her wits and carefully arranging the papers on her desk, Miss B stood before repeating herself. “Alright.”
Following Candy out of her classroom, Miss B locked the door. The two mares trotted down the hallway to the stairwell. Neither said a word as they ascended to the topmost floor of the school and turned towards the principal’s office. Miss B took only a moment to look out the window at the sprawling town the school was a part of.
The ground far below only made her pause for a minute this time. Unicorns, she thought, were meant to stay on the ground. The sky was pegasus domain. Greased Wheels’ perch.
When she stepped into the principal’s office, the older pegasus ruffled his feathers impatiently. Despite his charisma and excellent pony skills, the athletic stallion had never had a nature suitable for a desk job.
But across from the fidgeting teacher he sat, his gaze dusting lightly over her.
Bea crossed her forelegs in front of her as she sat. Her eyes locked on her employer’s hooves as she waited, listening to the wind whistling by the slightly ajar windows.
Greased Wheels finally spoke, his even tone betraying nothing. “I received a visit yesterday from one of your student’s parents,” he began. “Our understanding was that you not cause a problem for this school, Bea.”
“I know.” Bea’s voice was thick with emotion.
“Luminescence’s parents spoke to me last night about how their daughter is being bullied in your class. Is she?”
Bea’s tone didn’t change. Her head only sagged lower as she hugged her forelegs even closer to her chest. “She is.”
“I know,” the principal continued, “that you don’t have the easiest class to handle. Still, I need reassurances that this isn’t a problem. Kids bully and fight and argue. That doesn’t worry me. What worries me is that Luminescence’s parents decided to come to me instead of you. They don’t trust you, and frankly I don’t blame them. You aren’t really qualified for this job, after all.”
“But I need it,” Bea croaked, her throat suddenly dry.
“I know. Your father, right? Something with his liver? I barely remember. But I do remember,” Greased Wheels grinned with a show of more teeth than a pony should bare, “how eager you were when you interviewed. You really managed to convince me you were the mare for the job.”
Bea’s face flushed and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She cast her eyes down and away from those teeth.
Principal Wheels stopped smiling. “You’ve been struggling. I like keeping things running smoothly, and having to field touchy parent questions is not smooth. I don’t like it, and you aren’t instilling me with the confidence you once did. I need reassurances that you’re still the mare you were last year, when you proved to me what you were willing to do for this job.”
Bea trembled and refused to raise her gaze. Greased Wheels was unimpressed.
“I can give you a week,” he pressed, “to either show me how much you need this job, or to find a job elsewhere that you’re actually qualified for with that unfinished degree of yours.” When Bea didn’t respond, he raised his wings in an impressive display of plummage before snapping them shut. “You can leave.”
Bea didn’t wait any longer to stumble out of the office and to the nearest bathroom stall to heave her small breakfast into the school plumbing. When she had finished, she had no other choice than to head back down to her classroom for the day. Miss B still had papers to grade before her classes began.
Bea sat alone in her classroom as the children in her class trickled in. As the beginning of the day drew nearer, the sounds of children excited to see their friends reached a crescendo. When at last the room was full, Bea lightly sniffled and pushed aside the untouched papers she had been staring blindly at.
The class gave no notice to their teacher as she stood before them and tried to begin the lesson.
“Good morning,” Miss B offered tentatively. When the class ignored her, she stood a little taller and tried again. “Are we ready to begin?”
“I don’t know,” one student replied with a lilt. “Are we?” The offending student sniggered and her friends joined in.
Miss B brushed it off, taking the ribbing in stride. “I certainly hope so. We have a lot to do today.”
The room quieted a bit. Another student spoke up. “Like what?” she smirked.
“Well,” Miss B answered with only slight hesitation, “as always we’re starting with magic class so we have yesterday’s material to finish.”
“You're going to make us do magic?” A unicorn filly asked, her tone betraying a childish sense of scorn. “Are we going to be tested?”
Miss B’s expression was bemused. “At the end of the week, every week.”
“I’m going to tell my parent’s that you’re making us do magic against our will.”
Bea’s blood ran cold. “You’re going to what?” The filly that had perpetrated the outburst looked her teacher boldly in the eye. “I’m going to tell my parents. You aren’t supposed to make us do magic if we don’t want to or you’ll get in trouble.” Several other fillies nodded along in agreement.
Bea swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but this is my job.”
“Nuh uh! Lulu’s parents-” a filly tripped over her words in her excitement, “Lulu’s parents said that we don’t have to do magic and that you’re just cursing us against our will.”
Bea scanned the crowd and found nary a single filly that seemed willing to let her continue her lesson. When her eyes tried to meet the instigating Lulu’s, the filly averted her gaze, rubbing her hoof absently against the new cutie mark on her flank.
“Luminescence? Lulu?” Bea asked with a quiet, stunned incredulosity, “Did you tell your parents that I coerced you into trying a magic show?”
Luminescence’s new cutie mark, a spotlight shining between open curtains, coincidentally matched the spotlight of warm, uncomfortable attention her classmates now shone upon her. She glanced up and around her, meeting the eyes of the other fillies who had, just the day previous, been among her tormentors. This time, their eyes radiated solidarity rather than of scorn.
When Luminescence finally met Bea’s eyes, she took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I had done a magic show instead of a monolog, like you wanted me to, I would never have gotten my cutie mark.” Her face was wooden. though the muscles in her neck were taught. “I’ll bet you just wanted me to stay a loser. Like you.” Luminescence leaned forward in her seat. “I didn’t listen to you, though, because I knew that advice from a loser could only make me a loser too.”
A single clap resounded through the room, bringing an oppressive silence in its wake. Bea stared at her outstretched hoof in uncomprehending horror as Luminescence clutched her swelling cheek.
The injured filly whimpered and her teacher opened her mouth.
No words came. Silence reigned in the classroom until the sound of Bea planting her hoof back on the ground was followed by the sound of the classroom door opening and then clicking shut.
Unsupervised, the students once again allowed the sound of their voices to explode and carry the silence away.
“Good morning,” the nurse at the front desk greeted. “Are you here to see your father? You’re a lot earlier today. Taking a holiday?”
“Yeah,” Bea lied. “Is he awake yet?”
“Of course. He’s taken to waking up earlier, lately. I think it was because Nurse Gale mentioned to him that she liked stopping by his room around daybreak. This last week he’s been calling for breakfast around that time.” The receptionist smiled warmly at Bea. “We’re all a little sweet on him. Your father is really very considerate.”
“I know.”
“Well visiting hours started a little while ago, so why don’t you go and say hi? I’m sure he’ll be surprised.”
Bea nodded and trotted the familiar path to her fathers hospital residence. She passed several other hospital staff on the way, many of whom offered a smile or greeting to the school teacher. Bea only absently replied to their friendly overtures.
When she arrived at her father’s room, the door was closed, and she hesitated a moment to open it. When she finally did, she opened the door slowly, its well oiled hinges making nary a sound to contrast the staccato clopping of her hooves on the smooth hospital floor.
A warm, cheerful voice welcomed her with a chuckle. “Is it time to check on me again already? I swear I haven’t gone anywhere. I just sit here and patiently await your return.”
Her father lay in his hospital bed in the center of the cool, empty room. His eyes were closed in a serene contentment that Bea hated to shatter again.
When he finally opened his eyes, Moonshiner’s entire demeanor tensed as he made eye contact with his daughter. “Oh,” he dismissed, “it’s you again B. Why are you here?”
Bea took a seat on the opposite side of the room, her usual spot as she observed her father. “I’m here to see you again, Dad.”
Moonshiner snorted. “You’re always here to see me in the evening. Why are you here now?”
“Day off.”
“You have a day off in the middle of the school week,” her father complained, “and you come to bother me? Don’t you have other things to do, other friends to visit?”
“Not really.” Bea swallowed. Her throat felt dryer than normal, and her stomach was churning.
“Of course not,” Moonshiner’s hooves flopped down beside him as he stared up at the ceiling, as if in silent worship. “Stuck at a dead end job, no social life and no hobbies. It isn’t a surprise you have nothing to do.”
“Teaching isn’t a dead end job,” Bea mumbled, quiet enough to be sure that her father wouldn’t be able to hear. He was aging, but he wasn’t deaf yet, so she made sure to be extra quiet. Even so, her voice lacked any conviction. It just felt like something she said nowadays.
“I wish your mother were here. She always had a way with words that I didn’t. She’d know how to straighten you out.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” he scoffed. “You don’t know nothing about your mother. You was too busy chasing her off to get to know her.”
Bea sat silently, her eyes glued to the window.
“B. Listen to me when I’m speaking to you. You know why your nickname is B, don’t you?”
B nodded. “It’s because I’m a B student, a bad daughter and I don’t deserve to do any better.”
“You should be doing better, though,” her father asserted. “I raised you, you should be better. You have your mother’s genes. Why can’t you live up to them?”
“I don’t know.”
Moonshiner scoffed. The two of them sat in silence for some time afterwards. Moonshiner’s silent fuming soon turned to exhaustion, as it did every other day.
B watched her father fall asleep in the middle of the day, his poor health and age made it difficult for him to entertain for long and he had been energetic today. He curled himself up in his bed, shivering, and as he drifted further from consciousness he began to quietly sob. A whispered name knocked at his lips, and B knew that should they part, her mother’s name would visit her again.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
B left the room, closing the door with a click. She plodded down the halls again, no faster or slower than she had when arriving. She stopped once again at the front desk.
“He’s asleep.” She paused before continuing. “Is there anypony in billing today? I won’t be able to make any payments for some time, so I’d like to make some upfront.”
The nurse on duty stared a moment before smiling. “You’re such a doting daughter. And there's always somepony in billing. I’ll see if they're available.”
B’s keys jingled as she gently unlocked the door to her father’s house. With a large heaving breath, she pushed the door open and collapsed just inside. As she lay in the entryway, she listened to the silence of the house. She didn’t move except to kick the door closed with her back hooves.
The house was silent.
After a time, B finally stood and made her way to her father’s old study. A small table sat, pushed in the corner of the room with a lamp and a glass terrarium. B rubbed her eyes as she lifted the lid to the terrarium, cooing softly.
“Come here, Leon.”
A small chameleon crawled out of the cage and onto her hoof. Its entire body blushed with the color of her coat upon contact. B waited patiently as her small friend crawled up her leg and onto her back before trotting into the kitchen.
Her stomach growled as she stared blindly at the stocked pantry. With a defeated sigh, she entered only to return with a jar of something for Leon. Opening the jar, B spoke.
“I’m so tired, Leon.”
Feeding the chameleon was quick and B replaced the jar in the pantry. With her stomach still complaining, she trotted back to the study and placed Leon back in his terrarium. Taking the small desk in a magical grip, B dragged the it to her father’s spartan bedroom. In the hallway, the desk bumped a wall and the lamp slid off and broke against the ground. B only hesitated a moment before continuing on her way to the master bedroom.
Inside Moonshiner’s room sat a single chest of drawers and a small cot. Sliding the desk up beside the cot, B mirthlessly whispered, “You get to sleep with me tonight.”
Collapsing into the cot, B turned on her side so she could stare at the terrarium. She then screwed her eyes shut and waited for her dreams to visit once more. Sleep eluded her for some time, but she waited patiently, without moving, and she at last slept.
The next morning she awoke with a grimace. Light from the window had yet to peek into the bedroom, but she stared out into the darkness at the out of place desk and its occupant. Leon sat still in his terrarium, asleep or simply unmoving. B lay longer than she should have that morning, staring out into the darkness before rousing.
Her preparations for the day were careful. She showered and vigorously scrubbed her body. She brushed the tangles out of her mane for the first time in a while and carefully continued onto her coat and brought it to a smooth luster. Finally, she trimmed her tail and styled her mane into a gentle waft that she had years ago felt made her look pretty.
When her stomach reminded her of the meal she had skipped the night previous, she went to the kitchen and found a pair of ice cream bars she had been saving for a celebration. The freezer had given them a slight burn, but she ate both anyways.
Trotting back to the study, she eyed her saddlebags, full of graded papers and lesson plans for the rest of the week. Nudging them aside, she went to the closet and removed a small can of chameleon treats. She wasn’t sure what was in them. but Leon seemed to like them so she returned to the bedroom and gently nudged her stoic pet awake.
Offering him a treat, B let Leon climb up onto her shoulder once more. Glancing around the room, she saw one of the drawers in the dresser was slightly ajar and nudged it closed. On her way to the door, she caught a look at herself in a hallway mirror and tried giving a smile.
She left the house, carefully locking the door behind her.
On her way to the school, she stopped in a nearby park and fed Leon another treat.
“Do you think you’ll be able to live out here?” she half asked her companion. "I really, really hope so.”
Placing a final treat into a low hanging branch of a tree, she coaxed the chameleon to the edge of her hoof and gently nudged him into the leafy sanctuary. She gave Leon a kiss and watched as he faded into his surroundings, her faint, baby blue kiss lingering in the air before it, too, dissolved into nothing.
B stared into the park and let the warm breeze try to comfort her. She then turned and continued her canter to school, her pace a little faster and her gaze less focused.
When B arrived back at her classroom, she found Luminescence sitting outside the locked door.
“Good morning, Lulu.” B’s voice was even. “I’m sorry I hit you yesterday. I was in the wrong.”
“I know,” Luminescence mumbled. “I’m not sorry, though.” She met her teacher’s eyes defiantly.
“I know.”
“I’m tired of being the outcast. My dad bought me ice cream last night, and Fairweather invited me to her house for a sleepover. I’m finally cool. I don’t think the other kids think you’re cool.”
“They don’t.”
“I want friends.”
“I hope you find some good ones.”
“I told my parents about you hitting me.”
“I’m very sorry, Lulu.”
“I don’t care if you’re mad at me,” Luminescence offered in a small voice.
“I’m not. You should be mad at me. I’ve been a horrible teacher.”
“No,” Luminescence immediately shot back. “No you haven’t.”
“But I have.” B’s voice was gentle. “I’m a second rate teacher for a second rate class at a second rate school in a second rate town.”
Luminescence mumbled something into her hooves.
“Oh sweetie.” Slowly, the older mare wrapped the her younger pupil in a gentle embrace, cooing softly. She whispered soothing words to the trembling filly.
“But,” the filly sniveled. “But I think you could be a good teacher.”
“Sweetie,” B rubbed the filly’s back. “I don’t want to be. I never wanted to be. And now I’m just too tired.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” B chuckled dryly as she stood and unlocked the classroom door. “I need to go now, though.” She trotted to the other side of the room and carefully shut the blinds. “If any of the other children show up this morning, I don’t care what you get up to but could you ask them to leave the blinds closed?”
“Umm, okay.”
B smiled. “Thank you. Good bye, Lulu. And for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay, Miss B. It really is.”
Bea smiled one more time before turning back to the hallway. She quickly made her way to a nearby staircase and proceeded up to the top floor, trotting up to the principal’s office door. Her eyes caught Candy Apple’s, who was talking on the phone.
B gave a small, solemn wave before turning and using her faculty keys to unlock the door to the roof access.
“Miss B.” Bea turned to Candy, who had cracked the door to the principal’s waiting room. “You have a phone call. It’s from the hospital. They say it’s very important. Do you want to take it now?”
B’s hoof trembled on the roof access door knob. When she finally turned, she had a large smile on her face. “Sure. I might not have time to call them back later.” She woodenly followed the secretary into the reception room and picked up the phone.
“Miss Beatrix Lulamoon?” A voice on the line asked.
“Yes?” B answered.
“I’m sorry, but we have some bad news. Your father passed away this morning.”
“I only got one wagon on the lot in that price range,” the old dealer sighed. “It’s a bit of a fixer upper, though. Probably won’t get you too far without needing some work done.”
“It’s okay,” Wrapped in a hooded purple sheet, the former teacher stared at the rickety old wagon trailer. “As long as 'not far' is not here.”
“Hey, we're a good town with good folk. We might’a grown in the last few decades, but this town has heart.”
“It doesn’t do a great job at taking care of the hearts that it has,” the customer mumbled. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry if you took offense, I grew up here. Can we make a deal?”
The salesmare stared at her patron. “I expect so. This cart used to belong to a stage magician. She ran it through its paces, so it’s pretty beat up and it doesn’t have much in the way of amenities.”
“I’m not really looking for comfort.”
“I hear ya, but it does have this pretty slick mechanism that causes a stage to pop out, all-”
“As long as it rolls. Please.”
“I can’t say I’ve had many customers so enthusiastic about so little.” Pinching her eyebrows in confusion, the salesmare asked point blank. “You in some kind of trouble?”
“No, just eager to get on the road.”
“Well, lemme go get you some papers to sign and you can get started on pounding that dirt.”
The now tentative wagon owner stared down the road out of town as she was left alone. If she were to glance behind her, she would be able to see the small town’s school in the distance. The tall building was a landmark in the region, a towering landmark despite its poor reputation. Behind the tower would sit the hospital she had spent so much time in. As she waited for the salesmare to return, she never once glanced behind her.
“I’ll just need you to sign here, Miss Lulamoon.”
The baby blue mare shrouded in purple started slightly, then turned, accepting the pen and paper into her magic. With great flourish, she signed the papers as “Trixie” and returned them with a tentative smile. “Is that it?”
“Just Trixie? Is it a nickname?”
“Kind of. It's a stage name. ”
“I guess that makes sense. Are you headed to perform anywhere in particular?”
“I’m thinking I’ll just head down the south road and go as far as this old wagon can take me.”
“I think the south road ends somewhere near Ponyville. You going to perform there?”
Trixie smiled. “Ponyville sounds like a great place to have my first performance. Trixie will shock and amaze them with feats of magnificent magical might.”
With nary a glance back at the town and life she was so abruptly leaving behind, Trixie shouldered the weight of her new wagon and began trotting down the road chanting to herself.
“Trixie is great. Trixie is powerful. Trixie is not second place in anything. I am Trixie, and I’m coming for you, Ponyville.”
Author's Note
I really want to put some author notes here, but I can't really think of anything relevant to write. Do you guys have any suggestions?
