Chapters Dedicated to Sir Barton, and to all who have given me cunning plans and support for this endeavor.
History has known many great liars...Starswirl the Bearded IV, who could never grow a full-length beard; Gobbles, a turkey who created propaganda for Rudolf Bitler; St. Ralph the Liar, who was known to attempt to pass himself as other Saints merely to show how good a liar he was (and St. Ralph is the patron saint of gamblers and children who go on forums without their parents' permission)....but none were quite so vile as Princess Celestia, for it was she who re-wrote history to generate a a web of deceit to prevent disaster befalling Equestria, which sadly only happened because the truth never came out. What little she allowed to slip made her wicked sister Luna look far better than she really was, a change Celestia made out of sheer guilt of tossing her sister into the moon for being a snotty tyrant, and out of hopes that detailing the truth would prevent disaster. The future only proved her to be horribly mistaken. Again, Celestia also claimed that our hero's ancestor, Edmundo, also known as "El Víboro Negro", was a respectable stallion, whilst leaving out important details such as how he was also the same pony as King Sombra. Again, this was a change she hoped would prevent any future disaster. Again, she was wrong. Because of her severe miscalculations, it is up to us to tell the truth:
Long ago, there was a successful conquerer who made a lasting impact all over Equestria. He was a fearsome warrior, a great poet, and a mad lover. He was admired by all, even his enemies. As one who was obsessed with the battlefield, he died a violent death, as many warriors do, but he was well-respected long after his death, due to his vision and talent...
...But let's stop talking about Sukhbataar's ancestors and talk about Blackadder's instead.
Now, after the botched attempt to conquer Equestria, which was of course held by the aforementioned warrior, Equestria was weakened, and so it was a ripe opportunity for what little harmony was left to go to shit when Princess Luna turned rebel because she was butthurt about her (justified) unpopularity, and ended up getting sent to the moon. This made a lot of confused American fans upset, but it was most pleasing to most of Equestria, as they gladly forgot a princess who would execute people for not telling enough dick jokes to amuse her, and thus purged her from their histories and never spoke of her again.
Meanwhile, there was a very naughty boy who took over a fine place call the Crystal Empire, and he extended slavery to all who didn't have knighthood. He was originally called "El Víboro Negro", but as this upset too many white people on Tumblr either due to the use of the word "negro" (in spite of the fact that it's the spanish word for "black" and was being used as such in that context) or the "cultural appropriation" of an English-speaker using a Spanish phrase, he was often alternatively called "Sombra"; even dictators must bend their wills to that of the Warriors of the Tumblr Order.
Now was this "El Víboro Negro" a dictatorial git? You bet he was! At least the Khan had some sense of fair play and style (Sombra was notorious for being the worst-dressed stallion in all of Equestria). But Sombra still left a gift to Equestria: He had many children, and from them, and many descendents, and even one thousand years after he was last seen, his descendants did many great things, and provided only the best for Equestria. Two of his descendants in particular were crucial to helping shape Equestria, and completely changed it for the better, and thus not only indirectly conquered Equestria, but also conquered our hearts!
But let's stop talking about Rarity and Sweetie Belle for a second and get back to Blackadder and Baldrick.
Now before shortly before she was banished, Luna was revealed to be useful for something after all, and Celestia and Luna together sent this rather bad boy to his room (a euphemism for saying they tried to kill him, and apparently half-succeeded, as somehow he lived on). However, Luna thought she covered everything, but she forgot something important: Sombra's only loyal mate, his beautiful-but-eccentric last wife and strangely was both his favorite and least favorite wife at the same time, Baldrice (she was famous for somehow managing to be both one of the smartest and one of the stupidest members of the entire kingdom; a remarkable feat), who escaped during the siege. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except she was with child. Twins, in fact. One was a handsome colt who definitely took on after his father, and she gave him a royal name, Edmund. The other was an ugly git who only vaguely resembled his mother (though he may have got his ultra-intelligent/ultra-unintelligent brains from her), and he was named Baldrick, somewhat after his mother. Interestingly, baby Baldrick's first words, likely learned from his mother, were "I haf a cunnie pwan!", and baby Edmund's response to this declaration was bawling. Loudly.
Eventually, Baldrice died, leaving Edmund and Baldrick to be raised by the Shetland ponies of Dunny-on-Pone, and they had children by these Shetland ponies. Princess Celestia, after a long hard search, eventually found out what happened to Baldrice, and about Dunny-on-Pone and the Shetland ponies. She learned, however, that the Shetland ponies were a peaceful bunch, and felt that they may raise the sons of Sombra to be the same. So with this in mind, she simply haggled some Shetland territory into Equestria's rule so she could keep an eye on it. Centuries passed, and though from Dunny-on-Pone Clan Blackadder rose, it never became a huge threat, and to prevent it from ever becoming one, Celestia fully acknowledged Clan Blackadder as nobility and gave its family some power and prestige throughout Equestria. More centuries passed, and she completely forgot about the threat that Clan Blackadder could be under some circumstances, she casually handed over rule over Shetlandshire to Prince Blueblood, a distant descendant of Princess Luna.
And that's when all the chaos began.
Now it must be remembered that apparently, 1000 years is enough time for ponies to lose track of their heritage, perhaps intentionally so because barely a millennium ago, Equestria was nothing to be proud of. So not only were Blackadder and Baldrick unaware that they were the direct descendants of Sombra through all-male lines, they also were not aware that they shared the same heritage. The original Edmund was made Thain of Dunny-on-Pone, in charge through birthright, and Baldrick, the slightly younger and more socially awkward of the twins was the Mayor, an elected official, and that meant that his position could not easily be passed down. So it was that all of Edmund's children, the Blackadder family, kept their rank, and the Baldricks never did, eventually ending up as the ill-treated civilians of the town. And so our story begins, 1000 years after Luna and el Víboro Negro, or King Sombra if you prefer, were banished from Equestria, and once again, a Black Adder must fall from grace and into greed. And it is here, that our story begins...
My Little Plague: Infection is Magic
"Baldrick! Baldrick!"
A short painted Earth Pony of Shetland pony descent (meaning he was actually shorter than most Equestria ponies and was also shaggier) with a white coat and many large, natural (and some smaller poo-induced) brown stains of varying dark shades all over the sea of white, and eyes and a mane of the same dark shades, causing him to resemble an adult version of a certain little colt who is perhaps shipped a little too often with Princess Luna, ran down the spiral stairs. He had a turnip cutie mark and wore a funny brown skullcap with long straps. "Here I am Lord Blackadder, what you ask of me?"
There he was, a tall but gaunt Unicorn; he had a dark grey coat that looked nearly black, a wild black mane, piercing emerald eyes, and a black adder wrapped around a dagger for a cutie mark; indeed Lord Saddlemund Blackadder, like many of his forefathers, looked like a spitting image of the original el Víboro Negro before experiments with sorcery caused el Víbor Negro to be warped in body, mind and heard. As a matter of fact, it was hard to tell he was basically a Shetland pony who just happened to have some Equestria pony in him, save that his hair was shaggier than almost any Equestria pony. He was generous to a fault but paradoxically was also greedy to a fault, often entering vicious cycles of gain and loss. He also had little patience for stupidity and because of this, he sighed and facehoofed at Baldrick; he wanted him to do a census of Dunny-on-Pone, but something else on Baldrick now seemed like a bigger priority. "Baldrick, what is that?"
Baldrick indeed was smothered in something most horrible. Baldrick looked around at himself, getting a glimpse of each of his sides. "Not sure m'Lord, 'tis probably seagull droppings." Seagulls were a huge problem in their hometown, for nothing else seemed to enjoy living there, save perhaps for vultures, slugs, flies, and other nasty creatures, all drawn the excess of garbage, sewage, and overall decay.
Blackadder seemed to look simultaneously concerned and annoyed, as he often did: "Baldrick, how did you get seagull droppings all over you?" Baldrick simply looked around at himself again. "I don't know sire." Blackadder rolled his eyes and groaned: "Fine, let's go upstairs to your room and investigate." Blackadder grumpily trudged upstairs to Baldrick's room in the stuffy attic.
There was a pause. And a gasp that was none other than Blackadder's. He called from upstairs: "Baldrick, I think I know what's wrong."
Baldrick simply looked quite stupidly upwards "What is it my lord?"
"Come upstairs and see." Baldrick cheerfully obeyed by trotting upstairs to the attic, and the usual site greeted him: What was once a dark and dusty old room was now a light and dusty old room filled with seagull poop.
Something sure was different alright, but he wasn't sure what..."What is different Baldrick?" Blackadder asked with a scowl.
Baldrick studied the room very carefully, and stated the first thing that came to his mind: "It's got lots of seagull poop my Lord."
"Well, yes, it is in fact filled with seagull poop, but why do you suppose it's filled with seagull poop?" Blackadder asked.
Baldrick just shrugged and said "Just bad luck m'Lord?"
Blackadder's patience faltered for a moment: "Well, if by 'bad luck', you mean 'there's no bloody roof anymore', then yes, I suppose we can say that it's 'bad luck'."
Baldrick only caught a bit of that: "Oh yeah, it does looks like the roof is gone."
Blackadder recovered a smidgen of patience, enough to ask "Baldrick, is there any reason why the roof might be gone?" though Blackadder suspected he already knew the answer.
"Yeah me Lord, it's 'cos I had to take some of it apart, and sell the tiles" Baldrick explained.
Blackadder was troubled in his heart: His province was in such poor shape, that the citizens of Dunny-on-Pone would go to any extreme to make money. He sighed and said "It seems like you overdid it."
"Oh no, when I took down about four of them, everybody took down the rest" Baldrick said.
This news worried Blackadder: "Baldrick, how much did you make?" Baldrick shrugged: "About four bits. Why?" Blackadder replied "Because I and every decent sentient being in Equestria would have paid you twice as much...at least ."
Baldrick just shrugged: "Well, Prince Blueblood lowered the value of everything."
"Why?" Blackadder asked.
Baldrick shrugged again: "To make us less poor."
Blackadder shook his head. "How would lowering the value of everything make you less poor?"
Baldrick shrugged once more "Because then the rich won't be as rich, and if they aren't as rich, then we won't be as poor, he figures."
"And how would that make you less poor? Does any of the money go to you?" Blackadder asked
Baldrick was quite simply confused: "Wha?"
Blackadder sighed and sat down on a poop-smothered chair. "Baldrick, let's get something clear: First of all, usually, laws that apply to the wealthy affect the poor as well. Secondly, Blueblood is apparently is not giving the poor the support he promised, although I doubt it's possible any idea of his would in the first place. Now, can anyone in the town afford a thing?"
Baldrick took a minute to think about this: "Well, no, we can't keep the pence we make from sellin' our stuff."
"And why not?" Blackadder replied.
"Well, we gotta buy ourselves food, cost a lot don't it? And no matter how low prices for things are, we don't usually afford it none anyway, so no loss."
Blackadder wore his "I'm forcing myself to be patient with you" face as he said: "Yes, but why not your own food? Grow your own food, make it one less thing to buy, aid your own economy? I mean, all that dung, I'm sure vegetables can thrive...."
And then he turned to Baldrick and said "...actually, judging from your presence here, vegetables are thriving! I'm talking to one right now!"
Blackadder couldn't tell if Baldrick understood him or not, because Baldrick gave no acknowledgement to this harsh remark of his. All Baldrick said was: "We can't sir, it all got sick and died; health inspector declared it the only town in which a vegetable can get syphilis."
Blackadder was getting fed up with this: "So what your saying is that you're throwing a lot of money at places I'm assuming are not under the care of Blueblood, like Ponyville, and getting almost nothing in return? And you can't grow a thing because only this town is that rotten? I'm still not entirely sure how that works, I have a feeling I've only got half the story. Well, I'm sure you can establish firm trades with Ponyville, when I get to the bottom of things."
"Yeah, but we're running out of things to market to them, and the tax collectors take their share, don't they?" Baldrick answered.
Blackadder's ears lowered in frustration: "I see."
Blackadder decided that he wanted to see if this was a common phenomenon, so he walked outside, remembering to take his umbrella to guard against seagull droppings and vulture vomit. The buildings, once painted a fantastic beige over dark wood, had aged so much that they turned a weird mix of white and grey. He walked outside the door, to be greeted by vulture vomit on his umbrella "good morning Baldrick."
Baldric was thoroughly confused: "Huh?"
Blackadder explained: "I named the vulture who lives over our porch after you, and-" he then checked his umbrella, " he's apparently a better shot than you." As they squelched there way through the miles of mud and refuse towards town hall, Blackadder was most displeased with a sign he saw, which he read aloud "Welcome to Dunny-on-Pone, condemned by over 50 million health organizations world wide. " He then turned around and glared at Baldrick.
"Is something wrong sir?" Baldrick asked.
Blackadder sighed: "Baldrick, what is this?"
Baldrick helped make the sign, and he was very proud of it, so he answered with a big grin: "A sign, giving our best boast, just like you said my Lord."
Blackadder did not share Baldrick's enthusiasm: "Well, that would explain part of the reason why you're having trouble doing business with other provinces."
Then some foals ran by, their little hooves splashing squelchily in the mud as they trotted by "hello Blackadder!"
Blackadder smiled gently "Hello children, what have you come to pester me with?"
They all responded "We don't know what our Cutie Marks are, can you help us?"
This Blackadder, unlike many, had a soft spot for (good) children (bad ones got shot with arrows though). "I shall try," he smiled warmly. "Let's see...I believe your Cutie Mark is a Syphilis bacterium. Alright...your Cutie Mark is an Ebola virus. That one is a Bubonic plague baterium. This marvelous one is a malaria virus. And that one appears to be an HIV virus."
The kids got excited and insistent: "What do they mean Sir?"
Now this posed a dilemma for Blackadder: It was bad to tell this truth to children, but lying to children at all would have been bad too, so he told the truth with as much enthusiasm as possible, to lessen the impact: "It means you're all probably going to die a lot sooner than you probably planned!" However, the children's faces suddenly became absolutely devoid of enthusiasm. Now they had faces that were somewhere between indignant, angry, and blank at this news. Blackadder tried very hard to save his plot: "It's funny how some things sound funny in your head, but when you say them out loud, they sound rather terrible, don't they?"
Silent and stone-cold, the foals turned away, saying nothing. "Kids are getting lots of these Cutie Marks these days m'Lord!" Baldrick said with a grin.
Blackadder shook his head and sighed: "Getting that for a Cutie Mark is like getting a box full of letters from first the tax colllectors and later your local executioner, for Christmas." "What do it really mean?" Baldick asked.
Blackadder looked really upset: "that their special talent is picking up diseases and spreading them, before they perish."
"What you gonna do about that m'Lord?" Baldrick asked.
Blackadder looked and felt very defeated: "Well, these aren't diseases you pick up from seagull droppings. Cleaning up the town won't fix a thing, except probably the aesthetics."
Blackadder then paused and began to think aloud: "Another reason why we can't do business with Ponyville, most probably. Can we afford a doctor?"
Baldrick shook his head: "No my Lord, we don't got the bits."
Blackadder decided he had about enough of this, so he began to trot back to his house to begin business: "Fine, I shall spare you my wallet. I'm normally against this, but I shall just hire a doctor and try to do something about these rotten plagues. I'll pull out what's left of the family fortune and handle this myself."
Baldrick thought that this was far more than he deserved! "Oh, well, that's just too generous. Literally, too generous. Wait a minute! I have a cunning plan!"
Blackadder turned around like a shot: "Baldrick, need I remind you that the last time you had a cunning plan, you tried to solve the problem of your mother's new ceiling being too low by cutting her head off?! Alright, fine, what is it?"
Baldrick's idea made a rather grim amount of sense: "You can always just kill the kiddies and burn their bodies-" "Baldrick!!" "Just a suggestion m'Lord."
Blackadder sighed and gave him "the glare" while he instructed: "Baldrick, if you really want to help, bring me my strong box."
"Right away Sir!" Baldrick replied with a quick salute.
Blackadder, outside his home, decided to begin what he intended this morning: The census. Since Baldrick couldn't find his way out of an empty room, he figured he had the time. He stood at the podium in front of the empty town hall, just right around the corner from his house, and pulled out a parchment from one of his pockets. He then got an airtight ink container, and a quill, ready to write.
"I would like to do a census on the town! Bring forth the names of all who currently live!"
This was his friendly way of figuring out who died lately.
A clever colt figured it out and began "Here sir!"
"Your name?" Blackadder asked with a friendly voice.
"Baldrick" he cheerfully answered.
Blackadder did recall there were lots of Baldicks. "Okay, do I have-"
An older stallion chirped "Baldrick!"
Blackadder then jotted down a note: "Right, two Baldricks, now, who else-"
A little girl squeaked "Baldrick!"
"Baldrick!" This Baldrick was a granny.
Blackadder knew there was a whole family named Baldrick, but he was surprised that he was all that was left. "Another Baldrick? Riiiiiight....come on, yes you, come on up here!"
A most salacious lady pegasus, uncommon the largely Earth Pony population of Baldricks, with the most gorgeous curves, trotted up to Blackadder. Blackadder exclaimed: "Oh Sunflare, not another Baldrick-"
From her mouth a sultry voice spoke out: "No, my name's Ted."
Of course there were more Baldricks to go through, many, many more Baldricks. Nobody figured out how Ted was related, which caused Blackadder to suspect that she was the only non-Baldrick family member left, since all the girls and boys of the Baldrick family were indeed named Baldrick. Ted's family probably died from the numerous plagues. Usually spread by Baldricks. After going through through all the Baldricks (and Ted), this was Dunny-on-Pone's population:
Three rather mangy heifers.
Other than Ted and Colin, there was nobody else left who wasn't named Baldrick.
Blackadder recalled in the last census, more ponies were around, and more animals. There was Millicent the baker, apparently dead, probably from plague. There was Beatrix Lulamoon the Illusionist, left Dunny-on-Pone for bigger achievements, there was also her mother Bellatrix, dead from plague. There was Baldrick the Prostitute, and Baldrick her boy, gone for Trottingham. The population dropped greatly, which caused Blackadder to realize that it this rate, it would go from what was only literally a rotten Burroughs to what was officially a rotten Burroughs.
Blackadder left his podium, and aware that Baldrick hadn't found his strongbox yet, he went back to his house, sat down on a love-seat and relaxed...until he heard some powerful rumbles. It was not a steady quake, but one great boom followed by another, and each one shook the house each time it rang out, like a giant's footsteps. "Baldrick? Is that a thunderstorm?"
However, he was proven wrong when a big, fat pegasus that Blackadder was sure must have been incapable of flight burst through his house door...or tried to, but he got stuck. "Right, first things first!" he shouted with a wet roar "Where's your shitter?! I got a turtle-head poking out!"
Blackadder hid his disgust well, "That's...charming. This is Dunny-on-Pone, you can just do your business right there. It won't be any more messy than the usual vulture vomit."
"Ah, yer a kind sir. The epitome of Galaxia's good grace. I got a crap on deck that can choke a donkey! Aw, it's Squidgy! I'm starting to get all emotional about it, you know?"
"Riiight. I know what's it like to get...all...'choked up' about your shit" Blackadder then stifled a giggle, for he thought that this too was a good joke.
The Fat Bastard, however, thought nothing of it but the best: "Aw, yer a kind and understanding gent, ye are! But pray tell, why aren't you as diseased as the rest?"
"Oh, because in this town, either you die from our plagues, or you become immune to virtually every disease."
There was an uncomfortable pause, as his face shifted to dump the contents of his body, perhaps. He looked more comfortable, and breathed a sigh of relief. Now, time to get to questions. "Are ye a Lord?" the fat bastard tried to shout with a voice that was swallowed up with his own saliva and his fat. Blackadder simply stated "Are ye a Lard?" with the best impression of that fat stallion's voice in response, thinking it a rather good joke.
The obese pegasus gave a profound answer of confusion: "Eh?"
Blackadder gave his charming smile: "Forget about it. Why do you ask?"
The Fat Bastard answered "Prince Blueblood demands a tax from all the nobles!"
Blackadder's mind quickly worked things: "Well, Lord Blackadder is not present at the moment. He is away with his relatives, the Whiteadders."
"When can I meet him again?"
"Um, about ten years from now."
Just when Blackadder had hoped it would work, Baldrick walked in: "Here is your strongbox Lord Blackadder!"
The corpulent pegasus heard this, and his mind quickly worked things: "So, gone with yer nuncle and naunt ain't ye? Heheheheheheh!"
"Oh, yes, yes, you er, solved my riddle! Now if you shall kindly sod off-"
"Not so fast Blackadder! Ye have to pay yer taxes!"
"And, how much does Blueblood demand?"
"Oh, not much, just about, 10,000 bits!"
Blackadder was aghast: "10,000 bits?! Why does he charge so much?!"
"Prince Blueblood says nobody should be rich, my Lord. Making everybody poor will bring social equality! And then he'll give all that money to the poor!"
"Then why don't the poor have more money themselves?" Blackadder inquired. The plump tax collector was at a loss of words, but Blackadder was not, and so he kept talking:really benefit the poor in any way?"
Thinking about this, the Fat Bastard responded "Um, well, uh, it goes things that Prince Blueblood manages, I'll wager."
"Right, I'll tell you what: You can tell Prince Blueblood that he can have his bits, but that's not all, because he can have free 'fuck you' from me! Good day sir!"
The almost-certainly diabetic tax collector processed this, and answered "I'm sorry sir, I don't swing that way. Would a kiss on his cheek do?"
Blackadder was now completely and totally defeated. "No, that's not what I meant...you know what? Just take the money and go." Blackadder reluctantly gave him most of his family's fortune, leaving him with only 2000 bits left. "Be sure not to eat the bits I'm giving you."
The Fat Bastard was most enthusiastic: "Oh no sir, I got out of that habit years ago!" Blackadder suddenly felt "mysteriously" disareassured about this. He helped get the Tax collector out of his doorway, but it left a huge chubby pegasus-shaped indent on the sides of the doorway, as some wood broke off in the process. Now there would always be a draft from that door.
After the fat bastard left, Baldrick had this to say: "He looked like a fat git to me." Blackadder tried the muster the last vestige of Galaxian charity he had left in his soul: "I know, but deep down, I'm sure he is a-" "-thin git?" Baldrick finished with a question.
Blackadder struggled to smile: "Well, yes. You know, I came to realize that in a town full of Baldricks, I never got your first name. What is it?"
Baldrick paused to think for a minute: "Not sure m'Lord, I think it may be 'Sodoff'."
"And why do you think that?" Blackadder asked.
"Because when I'd play in the gutter with the rest of the foals, they always told me 'Sod off Baldrick'."
Blackadder was now hardly in the mood to keep talking: "Baldrick, I think I've had just about enough of this nonsense. You burst in when I was just about to send that tax collector away. For that, you leave me no choice but to practice archery!!" Blackadder then pinned Baldrick to the door, and tied his hooves to a knob attached to each end, and placed on his head a tall hat with an archery target on top...and all the while, Baldrick did not complain. Blackadder always did this when things were going a little too wrong.
That was also pretty much every morning, meaning that his friend, Lord Percy Darling of Trottingham, a slightly less dumpy burgh than Dunny-on-Pone (which Lord Darling would inherit once his father had croacked), could come pretty much every morning with bow and arrow in hand, and partake in archery himself. As un-luck would have it, Percy Darling walked in. He taller than Blackadder, but far more awkwardly built. He had a perpetual stupid grin on his face, a bowl-cut mane, and a penchent for silly clothes like tights and poofy shorts. This all seemed to serve to conceal his Cutie Mark, and none knew what it was nor was anyone allowed to discuss it. "Hello Blackadder! Sorry I'm late!"
However, Blackadder's day had been so bad that he never really felt that any arrival from Lord Percy would have been during a bad time. "It's okay Percy, I'm sorry you've been born."
Lord Percy Darling nervously at this and then suddenly went cheerful again: "Ah, I see the target's ready (hello Baldrick)!" He now got his arrows ready as he prattled on: "I'd like to see the Andalusian who'd make his way past me; why, I just want to go to sock each Andalusian in the in the schnozzer!"
"Well, go to Andalusia, there are millions of them" Blackadder replied.
Percy felt that this endeavor was a little scary, so he decided to settle for this condition: "Well, I suppose I can spare them so long as they stay there and leave alone our mares!"
Blackadder immediately put two and two together: "Oh Sunflare, who is she this time?"
Lord Percy Darling knew enough about Blackadder to not reveal too much, lest Blackadder somehow ruin his ability to see the good in his latest flame: "I don't know what you're talking about" Lord Darling lied.
Blackadder however, saw a pink note peeking from Percy's pocket and swiped it. Percy tried to get it back, but Blackadder kicked him in the shins, giving him a chance to read the letter. "Ah, and who is Flagrantly?" Blackadder asked.
Lord Percy Darling was a romantic and hopelessly moral and so he insisted "I won't say! I'm sworn to secrecy! Torture me! Kill me! You shall never know!!"
Blackadder was not a romantic and though moral to his people, around most nobles or even commoners who were not from Dunny-on-Pone, Blackadder had as much morality as any politician: None at all. He bopped Lord Percy Darling in the thingy between his legs, and left Lord Darling weakened and defeated; "Flagrantly....Accessible..." Lord Darling rasped. He recovered, unhurt, and went on to explain: "We're very much in love, my Lord!"
Blackadder had his concerns: "This is the Flagrantly Accessible?"
"Yes!" enthusiastically confirmed Lord Darling; "she is truly worthy of her title as Lady!"
Blackadder was astounded: "Lady Flagrantly Accessible? Not Flagrantly 'bury me in a Y-shaped coffin' Flagrantly Accessible?"
Lord Percy Darling hoped it wasn't true: "Um, I'm sure there are at least two Lady Flagrantly Accessibles."
"No?" Blackadder tried to confirm. "Tall, elegant, curvaceous, brown coat?"
"Yes!" happily agreed Lord Darling.
"Goes like a privy door when the plague is in town?" Lord Percy Darling suddenly took on a far more disappointed face. In response to this, Blackadder took on a more sympathetic tone: "Don't worry...you'll get over her... ...I did... ....and so did Baldrick actually-" This caused the enraged Percy to miss his target, and he hit Baldrick in the lower half of the body. He saw his mistake and tried to get the better of himself. Blackadder decided to explain more: "She's got a thing for facial fuzz and hairy fetlocks, apparently."
Lord Percy Darling was most indignant at this! Almost at the point of tears! "Well in that case, I'm going to shave!!" and with this, he stormed off.
Blackadder shook his head and sighed, observing the arrow in Baldrick's body. "Bad luck, Baldrick."
"It's alright sir, it didn't contact my flesh! As it so happens, my willy got in the way! I'm going to tell all my grandchildren about it, and call it my lucky willy."
Baldrick looked shocked, disgusted, in a state of pity for Baldrick, and utterly concerned. "It didn't hit the things behind the willy did it?"
Baldrick was surprised about Blackadder's concern and wondered if he should be concerned himself: "What things? I don't think so."
"That's what I thought. Well in that case, a little magic from my horn might make grandchildren a possibility, or it was out of the question beforehand." He used some magic in his horn to fix Baldrick's willy, but after he did this, his mind went into a dark state: He spent most of his life trying to be generous to the sick and poor, but things have gotten to the point where not only everybody was sick and poor, he no longer had any money either, and now he was poor himself. All because of that damned Prince Blueblood he thought.
"I'm going to Prince Blueblood and talking sense into him" Blackadder thought aloud.
Author's Note
I noticed that for some reason, monarchy, a trivial subject in the USA, is apparently important among the British circles of FIMFiction, so let me explain this: Like many Americans, I'm neither pro-monarchy, nor anti-monarchy. I'm rather neutral in that area. Basically, Equestria is an autocratical theocracy that rotates around Galaxism, the worship of Tau Sunflare, King Cosmos, and Galaxia (Galaxism named after Galaxia in particular because it's the only Sunflaric religion that acknowledges her as a God roughly on par with Tau Sunflare), so like most theocracies, it's naturally going to be a little collectivist, which would explain the shitty economies in realms directly under the influence of the high priests, like the corrupt Prince Blueblood. I'm no economics expert, so I just made the worst economy imaginable, and we'll figure out what Prince Blueblood does with the money soon enough (hint: Being based off of Prince Regent of Wales, George the Fourth, Prince Blueblood spends it all on something that you put on your feet...). As I implied, this isn't going to be always going political commentary,, a lot of the time it's just Blackadder silliness without factual historical significance, like in this chapter, meaning you don't need to worry too much about learning things and I don't have to worry about research too often. But every now and then, you're going to see some references to social problems that were or still are.
Blackadder here is mostly based off of his Second series depiction with some MLP and plot-convenient softening. However, you're beginning to see his fall from grace, into a far more sinister version over time...
Also, "el Víboro Negro" means "the Black Adder" in Spanish, masculinized since it's a guy.
I do not own Blackadder, Blackadder, Baldrick, and Lord Percy/Darling are owned by the BBC.
The Archery scene among other things are directly from the series, due to a guy on DeviantArt wanting a bit from the series as proof that I've actually watched it. Future chapters will either be far more original or would only have one bit lifted from the series.
More entries to come probably within the next two weeks!
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My Little Modest Proposal: Friendship is Cannibalism
"Wot?" Baldrick was surprised; few ever had the guts to question the authority of George Blueblood, their Bishop-Prince.
Blackadder went into a deep and dark part of his mind: "I went to school with Blueblood. I think I know how to deal with him" Blackadder thought out loud. His hooves were together, his eyebrows furrowed, as they often were when in deep thought. “Blueblood, as I recall, can be stubborn, unless sufficiently bribed, or is in a relationship with somebody more intelligent than himself, which is usually the case anyway when he actually is in a relationship...” Then, breaking out of his own meditation, be declared with confidence: "Baldrick, I have a cunning plan of my own" Blackadder explained. "I'm going to Prince Blueblood myself and give him a piece of my mind."
Baldrick was touched: "Awwww, you're very generous sir, 'cos he don't got any!"
Blackadder turned to Baldrick, an eyebrow cocked high: "Baldrick, I applaud your kind heart, I really do, but I did not mean that literally. If I could literally give people small slices of my mind to others for thinking power, then we wouldn't be a theocracy and you would never say 'I have a cunning plan' and give me the equivalent of a swine-trollop of an idea." Only in Equestria could a pig be considered suitable for prostitution.
Baldrick sounded a little disappointed: "Well, thas' too bad, 'cos I got a cunning plan of me own, actually."
Blackadder rolled his eyes: "Oh dear. Fine, fine, do tell."
"Well, I figured that if we just used magic to get a fragment of your mind, and give it to our dear George Blueblood-" Baldrick was cut off by Blackadder using magic to toss a shoe at him.
Baldrick was indeed rather sad that Blackadder would do this; after all, he was only trying to help! "But he don't got a mind and I figgered that if we'd give him just a piece of yours, then he'd be all better!"
"Baldrick, I function at the level I do because I have all my mind in my head. Frankly, that's one thing you can't expect me to be generous about."
Baldrick began to sputter in protest: "Well we have to do somethin'! This town's a wreck and you got no money!"
Blackadder gave a defeated nod and sigh. "Yes Baldrick. I mean, look at us! Look at our city! Look at me! Once we had money and diseases. Now we just have diseases."
"So how do we break up your mind-"
"WE ARE NOT MESSING WITH MY MIND!!" Blackadder shouted. "But I went to school with Blueblood; I could probably convince him that there might be something 'cool' about making it easier to live in Equestria. He might claim it as his idea, with one of his 'tally-hos' and make it so"
"Where does he reside m'Lord?"
"I don't know Baldrick, you tell me!"
Baldrick shrugged "Blueblood lives just about wherever he wants, but he's often sighted at the Lunar Castle."
"Good, we shall go there....wait a minute" Blackadder stated with a cock of his eyebrow.
"What is it m'Lord?" Baldrick asked.
Blackadder pointed at him accusingly with a single hoof: "You yourself said you didn't know!"
Baldrick shrugged "Sometimes I know sir, and sometimes I don't."
Baldrick however, after an extremely awkward pause, gave him a reminder, a reminder that would create more than enough problems and chaos to his plans.
"C'mon Baldrick, you know perfectly well how the mail comes to us." Blackadder said with a reluctantly accepting sigh, looking towards the roof.
Baldrick's memory seemed to fail him. "How's that m'Lord?"
Suddenly, from the window on the roof, the closest thing to a sunroof Blackadder ever truly had (but almost useless, as the sun seldom shined over Dunny-on-Pone), something crashed downwards, and the falling of numerous pieces of glass on the floor could be heard.
From the shattered rubble, a scratched and cut, but surprisingly healthy mare, rose. Her coat was grey, her mane and tail were as golden as her eyes, which were turning away from each other, a clear case of strabismus.
Blackadder sighed "Hello Derpy."
Derpy grinned: "Hello Mister Blackadder!"
With a roll of his eyes, Blackadder asked: "How many times do I have to warn you about my sunroof?"
"This is the first time you've had one!" she pouted.
Blackadder shook his head "No it isn't; it just seems that way to you because you break it every time."
Derpy, however, wasn't listening. She could only stare at Baldrick and giggle. Baldrick seemed to blush and grin sheepishly, with a feeble wave of his hoof.
Blackadder rolled his eyes up to his skull and moaned. "Oh dear, a match made in Hell."
Derpy heard this, and began to sputter: "Um, yeah, uh, I really should be g-going!" She tried to wobble her way out of the house, but couldn't stop looking at Baldrick, and bumped into a wall. Baldrick immediately became deeply concerned! "Mistress Derpy! Are you okay!!"
Derpy could only give a wall-eyed stare at Baldrick: "I'm always okay when you're around."
Blackadder was studying the contents of the mail bag, as Derpy was just about to leave it behind again. "Oh great, just what Equestria needs; another fish-eyed, fish-brained, flying little mule flitting about dropping fertilizer everywhere while braying ‘special delivery’."
"Derpy?" Blackadder inquired.
"W-what?" Derpy asked almost tearfully, wondering if she could take any more of this.
Blackadder held up the mailbag with a most exasperated expression. "You forgot your mailbag again."
Derpy was almost relieved that was all Blackadder had to say. "O-oh! Yeah, yes, I, um, need that."
Baldrick gently shut the door with his muzzle, not that there was much reason too, for other than the door hinges, a lot of the doorway was smashed by the Fat Bastard, and so the door hardly stayed in place. Then he turned around angrily at Blackadder: "How come you always spoil it! Every time I get to meet a nice filly? Why do you ruin my life?"
Blackadder sighed. "Baldrick, the day you learned that ponies don't reproduce asexually ruined my life."
Baldrick kept scowling: “Yeah, I nearly cut myself in two to create another Baldrick!”
“I know, a shame you didn’t, isn’t it? We’d be one Baldrick short, and nothing of value would be lost” Blackadder began to read the same letter he helped himself to from the bag. "Ah! It's from Princess Celestia!" he chirruped happily. However, as he kept reading, his expression changed into a most distressed face. "Baldrick, she wants me to come to Canterlot posthaste" he declared in a grim tone. Baldrick already protested this: "But you can't go to Canterlot now!! You promised all those ponies that you would fix their lives!"
Blackadder nodded grimly. "Yes Baldrick, I know. I can't let whatever Princess Sunbutt wants distract me from my mission! This is a crisis, a large crisis...in fact, if you've got a moment, it's a twelve-story crisis with a magnificent entrance hall carpeting throughout 24-hour portage and an enormous sign on the roof saying 'This is a Large Crisis'. A large crisis requires a large plan....
....Now get me two pencils, and a pair of underpants."
Baldrick's face morphed into one that seemed to say "I thought I was the weird one." Blackadder, however, spat out "Do it man!" So Baldrick rummaged through the drawers
When Baldrick presented the pencils and briefs, he had to sigh, shrug, and ask: "I still don't get it though; why'd you wanna do this?"
"Thinking of Blueblood reminded me of an idea of his: This is an old trick I picked up in when I was in boarding school in Canterlot to get away with late homework, and to get to see my...oh, never mind, we'll talk about it later."
"Who gave you that idea anyway? Wait...you said 'Blueblood,' right? Did my ears deceive me?"
Blackadder was more sheepish. "Well, uh, yes, you did hear it right. It was Blueblood's, actually."
"And what makes you think any idea of Blueblood’s, even from when he was a foal, is going to work?" Baldrick had a point: Virtually any and every idea of George Blueblood's ended in catastrophe. Hence the current state of Dunny-on-Pone.
"Look Baldrick, just roll with it! Anyway, we tell Celestia that I've gone insane, and she will probably ask somebody else to do her dirty work, and thus I can go on my quest to reason with Blueblood without any interference, we'll arrange things so that it seemed like I got invalided before you can say 'ab-wooble', just like any other gormless idiot!"
Baldrick took on a sad, concerned, and protesting tone. "Well, I'm a gormless idiot sir, and I've never been invalided once!"
Blackadder took on a more patient and teacherly tone than Baldrick's: "Ah, yes my dear Baldrick, but you've never said 'ab-wooble'!"
Baldrick was thoroughly confused, but he decided to try this out: "Your name sir?"
With enthusiasm, Blackadder declared: "Wibble!"
Baldrick's expression never lost any skepticism. "What is two plus two?"
Almost as a scoff, Blackadder said "Wubble-wubble!"
Baldrick had a little more confidence in him now: "Where do you live?"
Blackadder forced as much confidence as he could muster in his answer: "Canterlot, which is a small village outside the capital of Mars...which is named Wooble."
Baldrick took it in and shrugged: "Seems insane enough to me...I guess."
Blackadder gave a sniff of overwhelming confidence. "Trust me, it always works! Now, I shall write a letter!"
“Well without Derpy, how are you to send it!”
Blackadder took on a more sinister tone “The way I prefer to do it…”
“Oh no, not frobbscrottle!” Frobscrottle was drink that was originally a soft drink gone horribly wrong, but it miraculously had some usefulness, because it now became a way of turning a pony into a substitute for a dragon; one was to write a letter, use a spell to convert it into a magical self-rebuilding powder, and then mix it with the frobbscrottle. Once swallowed, the frobbscrottle would cause a pony to pass the letter, by passing gas, to the intended destination. However, the process was extremely painful. That’s why Baldrick did it.
And so he did:
Dear Mommy #2.
Bad newooble. I have gone blinking mad. I can't seem towable get these pencils out of my nose.
With lots of love,
Wibble.
Blackadder then magically converted the letter to powder form, mixed it with the frobbscrottle and then he shoved it down Baldrick's throat; poor Baldrick felt a pain in his guts; eventually, out of the other end, Baldrick's flatuence carried the sparkling dust to Canterlot. Now came the tension. Baldrick knew that the responding letter would come out the same way. It felt like forever...Baldrick almost had a hope that he could fart another day instead but - the pain in his guts again, the excruciating pain! He then gave out flatulence that produced a bound letter, and Blackadder began to read it out loud:
"My dearest Saddlemund,
Get those pencils out of your nose! You're going to suffocate!! Take those underpants off of your head! You look ridiculous, and you're not fooling anypony. It was cute when you were a foal, but as an adult, you just look silly! Now you are going straight to Canterlot young man!
With many hugs and kisses,
Celestia
P.S.
No amounts of "wooble" or any variation of such will save you.
P.P.S.
Next time, if you're going to put men's underwear on your head, better make it boxers; briefs make really stupid headwear and I like a man in boxers."
When Blackadder finished reading it, he was looking very grim indeed.
Baldrick just looked pleased and smug: "There it is sir! Proof that our divine child of Galaxia herself is telepathic and therefore a goddess!" He had many arguments with heretics who questioned the divinity of their Princess; he was now so smug, because he officially had proof that their Princess as truly descended from the gods.
Blackadder sulkily shook his head: "No, it's just proof I used it too many times as a colt. Blast! That trick always seemed to work in school!"
And it didn't work without reason, but not for the reason that Blackadder believed.
***
Blackadder learned that trick from his boarding school, from his own roommate Blueblood, in fact, just as he told it. However, he was wrong about one thing:
It never actually worked. Celestia simply found it too cute to stop that behavior, and she also perfectly understood why: Blackadder only wanted to see his parents again. Celestia remembered one day that she was informed that Blackadder had gone insane, and could no longer attend school. Curious about the subject, she trotted straight to his room, and was greeted by little Blueblood: "Come quickly!" he shouted. "He's gone blarming mad!"
Celestia opened the door, and by the window, there he was, the cute, scruffy-looking gray colt with two pencils in his nose and a pair of tighty-whities on his head. Celestia already tried to stifle a giggle: "Saddlemund, I've been informed that you're not feeling well; can you tell me what's wrong?"
Little Blackadder was at a loss of words: "Uh...Winky wonkey namby pamby wish wosh pish posh wot wot wot!!"
There was a pause. Blackadder tried to think of something to fully convince her that he was mentally unstable, and came up with the most random sound he could think of:
Celestia covered her mouth at this to hide her grin and suppress her laughter: "Oh my, you are insane indeed ! I fear I have little choice on the matter: I shall send you back home at once!"
Now tremendously excited, little Blackadder tried to find the right words. "Oh yes! -Uh, oh wooble!! WOOOOBLE!!!!"
As soon as Celestia shut the door, she found it almost impossible not to chuckle when she heard him shout to Blueblood: “You were right George! It does work!”
“Now I shall use it to get out of homework! Tally-ho!!” Blueblood’s voice chimed.
Celestia trotted away quickly enough to keep them from hearing her melodious laughter.
Celestia discussed things with the same teacher, the potions master, who told her about this:
Wolfsbane the potions master considered this for a moment, and then she asked: "Why are you letting him go? Wouldn't it hurt less if you just told him the truth as soon as possible?"
Celestia sadly sighed and shook her head, not sure how to handle children from a background like Blackadder's. "Maybe, but I don't want to loose his trust; should he be told this; he may refuse to believe me, and then...he’ll never listen to me again." And that thought troubled Celestia more than any.
***
Baldrick remembered what was in the letter, and he decided to give his own opinion on it. "I don't know about you, but I don't think she really bought it even back then. Musta been too cute to discourage."
"How would you know?" Blackadder asked with an eyebrow cocked upwards.
Baldrick then paused, and he seemed to look around, as if he was searching for the right words. "There is a faint chance of a small possibility that I almost could be some colt's father through a prostitute!"
Blackadder smiled warmly, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "I hate to say this Baldrick, but I think you're right; so, who is this hapless spawn of yours? Baldrick son of Baldrick the prostitute?"
Baldrick, having got that off his chest, was now more open about this kind of thing: "He could be...or my brother's. Hard to say."
"I see...and what's your brother's name?"
"Baldrick" Baldrick answered simply.
Blackadder replied "Oh yes, I might have known" speaking with an unsurprised tone. He mused at this moment, thinking about his father, and Baldrick's possible fatherhood. "Baldrick?"
"Yes m'Lord?"
Blackadder was thinking about his childhood. "What was your father like?"
Baldrick thought long and hard to give a good answer to his question. "He was a nun sir!"
Blackadder cocked an eyebrow again: "He could not have been a nun!"
"He was too a nun!" Baldrick protested with a childlike tone. "I know 'cos the bailiff always asked him what his job was, and he'd always say 'none'!"
Blackadder knew better than to argue with Baldrick. "Well, I fear that I'll have to tell the truth to the rest of the town."
He opened the door, taking his steps hesitantly, because he feared to disappoint his own people. Already outside, he could hear the forecast from Baldrick the town cry-colt:
Hearing this was even harder still for Blackadder; it would break his hardened, brittle heart, to be the one to tell them that they were to continue their lives in misery. Mustering his courage, Blackadder decided to hop back onto the podium: "I'm afraid that I already have bad news! Princess Celestia has decided that I must assist her for the Summer Solstice! I'm afraid my plans with Prince Blueblood will be delayed, until some time after the Summer Solstice is over!"
He expected an angry mob, but they seemed nothing of the sort: Rather, they seemed grimly acceptant, willing to bear their fates just a little bit longer, perhaps because they lived like this for decades, and were in no hurry for improvement. Baldrick the eldest, the oldest living Baldrick besides Baldrick the Batshit, raised his hoof.
"Yes, what is it?" Blackadder asked.
"I have a cunning plan" Baldrick the elder said.
Blackadder groaned "A Baldrick with a cunning plan. Who knew? Do tell."
"Get two pencils, and a pair of underpants-" he was cut off by a green magic laser from Blackadder's horn.
***
In the Lunar Castle, Prince Blueblood stirred and yawned in that mess he called his bed. He awoke most sickly, for he drank himself out of his mind again. His butler stood by, holding a round tin tray with one hoof, and like Blueblood he was a Unicorn, and he said: "I took the liberty to anticipate your condition, and have brought you orange juice and aspirin...but do please regurgitate first." Blueblood simply stretched and whimpered: "My tummie aches."
The Butler also planned for this: "I also have got you your washbasin: Fear not, it's empty. You can blow chunks there as much as you like." Blueblood was indeed grateful for this: "Thank you my Butler. Ah! I look forward to the banquet of the Summer Solstice! Did you know that this castle once belonged to the Great Nightmare Moon, or so they say?"
"I thought you, like all nobles, were a Galaxian priest, and you fully believed it" the Butler pointed out, scarcely surprised at all.
Blueblood spoke with the enthusiasm of a magician impressing an audience. "Butler what's-your-name, the first thing you have to know is that when you're a priest, you don't need to always believe it! You can take it seriously on Mondays when it is not our custom to have sex, and you can forsake it all on Saturdays when it is our custom to have sex!"
"That is very liberating my liege" the butler replied. "Why not tell this new form of hypocrisy to your subjects?"
Blueblood scoffed and gave a dismissive gesture: "Oh, those horny buggers need to keep it in their pants! The economic plans I set up don't seem to be working-”
“-You mean make everybody equally miserable?” the Butler cut in.
“Yes, something like that!” Blueblood affirmed. “By making the rich less rich, obviously, the poor should be rich instead, but this isn’t happening, so the only obvious solution to my problem is that there's too many of them!"
"What do you propose to do about it?" The Butler almost eagerly anticipated the inevitable stupidity behind the answer.
Blueblood was almost disgusted that anybody had to ask such a question. "Simple! We give them a modest proposal and advise them all to sell their children below age nine as pricy goods fit for the Galaxian church!"
"You know, you may have forgotten my Lord, but they did away with equine slavery over 200 years ago, though some provinces have made 'lesser citizens' of true ungulates such as pigs, cows, and sheep." Indeed, Ponyville was famous for lesser citizenship to anything with two or four hooves instead of one or three. It was said that if a bull looked upon a mare for even a little while, he'd be accused of planning on defiling her, and all the stallions would go punish him for his evil thoughts, for a union of bull and mare was, according to them, against Tau Sunflare's plan. So they'd proceed to put on some bed sheets that made them look like retarded ghosts, tar and feather him, mutiliate the thingies behind his thingie, hang him, and then stick the body to a cross and burn it, as a warning to the only thing they hated as much as bulls, the Lunar denomination of the Galaxic Church (most Equestrians were of the Celestial denomination of the Galaxic church).
The next day, prime rib would be on the menus, though it might sometimes be a bit burnt. And it would taste a bit of tar.
Blueblood however was not thinking of anything of the sort: "Oh pooh! Who said anything about slavery? I was proposing using children for vendoring as groceries! Give the butchers something new to give!"
"Are you suggesting that we...eat ...the children, sir?" he heard many strange things from the Prince's mouth; this was the strangest one since he tried gargling cola to the tune of Yankee Doodle on an airplane while suffering mild throat cancer. As a result he sounded like Batmane.
There was no end to the Prince's enthusiasm "Oh now butler, you make it sound so...so...barbaric !" His tone changed back to his usual cheery tone: "But absolutely! It's far less mouths to feed, and the poor make money selling them!"
"You know, the funny thing is, cannibalism is frowned upon in most societies" the Butler said, clearly annoyed.
"And that's what makes Equestria stand out! We believe in the things the rest of the world daren't!"
The Butler then tried not to laugh. "Is that why the rest of the world hates us?"
"Yes, because they're jealous!"
The Butler was hesitant: "Well, with the Changeling Empire, that may be, but I'm not so sure about-"
"Oh come on! They're all jealous! And because of this, my economic policies will surely work!"
"Are you sure they don't work simply because they aren't good ideas under even the most Apocalyptic circumstances?" Blueblood glared at him, so the butler whose name Blueblood could never remember did a swift save: "Well, in theory." Blueblood's fragile ego was partly saved, and he confirmed: "Well, if they aren't good ideas, then obviously, we shall make them good ideas!"
"And how do you propose that? I wasn't aware you had reality-shaping powers" the butler grumbled.
Blueblood had no shortage of enthusiasm. "Why, we write about it in a book! If it's in a book, many good professors will consider it worth citing, many masses will consider it true, and the media will spread all the ideas!"
"If writing random lunacies in a book somehow automatically makes it true, then I'm glad you're the first to have thought of it" the Butler sighed.
Blueblood was almost oblivious to the Butler's suppressed wrath. "Oh trust me, as soon as it's on a book, any bullshit becomes a widely cited fact! Das Capital ! Thus Spoke Zarathrustra , Mein Kempf ! On Practice and Contradiction ! Scientology: The History of Man ! Dreams of my Father ! The Dictionary! It's like I said! As soon as it's in a book, any bullshit is considered fact!"
The Butler admitted to himself, with a fading faith in ponykind, that Blublood almost had a pount. "Sadly sir, this is very, very true. However, I think many might point out that most of these books only exist in the silly fictional universe in the show My Little Human: Friendship is Bullshit , and that there might be some proof behind the 'bullshit' that you claim the dictionary is."
"Haha! See how well it works?" Blueblood asked with a scoff.
The Butler suffered from what he feared would prove a most unhealthy curiosity. "What do you suppose your book shall be called?"
"I was thinking something along the lines of...Tally-Ho, my Good Arseheads! I was Right and You were Wrong! Haha! "
"I hope you were merely foretelling the future and not stating the title of your book."
Blueblood got a little pouty: "Should I remove the 'Haha'?"
"Perhaps, my liege."
The Bishop-Prince officially produced the Royal Pout: "But I can keep the 'Tally-Ho'?"
His butler sighed: "Sure, if you wish. That book shall certainly be a Manehatten Times best-seller!"
Blueblood knew insincerity when he heard it, though at least if it was from somepony who made it no secret he was being insincere; however (which from him, was a first): "I may need a new butler" he concluded to himself.
Author's Note
For ranks and dream-casting, here's the foundation:
Lord-Archdeacon Saddlemund Blackadder: Voice by Rowan Atkinson
Also, I have to thank Sir Barton for some scanning and editing of this chapter.
Also, some may misconstrue this chapter as anti-American, even though I'm a dedicated American patriot. It's actually just a harsh parody of problems that were or are in general, and I took some time to refer to a few problems Americans had in the southeast up until rather recent times.
"The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him. "
"Men are so simple and yield so readily to the desires of the moment that he who will trick will always find another who will suffer to be tricked. "
"The fact is that a man who wants to act virtuously in every way necessarily comes to grief among so many who are not virtuous. "
-Niccolo Machiavelli
"Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her: but once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game. "
"To learn who rules over you, simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize. "
-Voltaire
"I have a Cunning Plan. "
-Baldrick