Author's Note
Mango Leaf's Character Bio:
OC's Name: Mango Leaf
Pony Species: Male Unicorn
Appearance: Coat color: Sunshine Mane Color: Tumeric w/Clementine highlights
Cutie Mark: Split Mango (showing the seed) in a stripped red/white cup. Travels around with an enchanted-to-cool wagon (a-la-Trixie), spreading the wonders of frozen yogurt to Equestria and beyond.
History: Mango Leaf's family moved to warmer weathers from Glaice, a northern city always covered in snow and ice, since his parents hated the cold. He was their first born in their new lives in Hoofululu and was named thus due to the warm weather and the color of his coat. They tried to encourage him to do something warm. Like become a fire-breather at a local luau place. However, Mango Leaf loved playing with frozen things, and one day, while making some mango nectar, he decided to mix it with some yogurt and hide it in the freezer. The rest, as they say, is history. Ever since, he's perfected Frozen Yogurt to an art, and his specialty, The BSM (Banana Strawberry Mango) Fro-yo is an experience onto itself.
Personality: Mango Leaf is generally affable, but due in part to his parental history, he has strong feelings against warm drinks and certain warm foods that could otherwise be consumed cold. Especially desserts. He enjoys selling Fro-yo to first-timers and watching their faces of delight when they discover just how amazing it is. He is very unhappy with winter since it makes ponies not want to consume frozen products and gets pretty defensive of them. He has a troublesome tendency to trying to freeze foods to 'improve' their flavor without asking. Sometimes successfully (such as the time he froze an apple pie with some vanilla ice cream and created a Canterlot delicacy) and some other times with regrettable results (like that one time he flash-froze a griffon's steak dinner.)
As of this writing, Mango Leaf is still a contender in the contest, so his author remains anonymous. Once I find out who it is, I'll post that here.
I lost this round more because of my too-bold creative decisions than anything else. People liked the poem and the alternate universe, but it didn't fit the parameters of the contest well enough. Oh well.
Round 2 - Mango Leaf
---------(-<@>-)---------
Gather around, little zebras, and I'll tell you a story.
It's time to learn history, your ancestors’ glory!
-----<@>-----
You all know the tale of the Dark Thousandth Year,
When Kingdom and Princess were bested by fear.
---<>---
For two decades more the Sun hid her face,
Until the six Elements restored her to place.
---<>---
But the story I tell you today is more common.
I speak of a zebra, Zecora the Shaman.
---<>---
One night the Moon said she was guilty of crime,
The details of which have been long lost to time.
---<>---
The dungeons of Nightmare were dark and quite cold,
And too many ponies within it grew old.
---<>---
But she did not complain and she did not despair,
Zecora brought comfort to cold prison air.
---<>---
She helped the poor inmates, gave them sound, good advice,
And helped them feel happy as they payed out their price.
---<>---
Two such poor souls came together one night,
Servants the Queen had sent out of her sight.
-----<@>-----
One was named Mango Leaf, a preparer of treats,
Who so loved to freeze things he hated hot sweets.
---<>---
His passion was Yogurt, a more recent invention
For which the Dark Queen would spare no attention.
---<>---
Her passion was Coffee, served fresh every night,
Which Mango thought wasn’t entirely right.
---<>---
Weary grew Mango of serving drinks hot,
So one night he concocted a drink-cooling plot.
---<>---
Unfortunately he forgot his Empress required
Her coffee be warm, and fresh from the fire.
---<>---
But on Mango went, chilled the drink with a smile.
“Iced Coffee!” he called it, with flourish and style.
---<>---
Needless to say, Nightmare Moon was fair cross!
Poor Mango straight into the dungeons was tossed!
-----<@>-----
The other new inmate had once served his Queen
By using his magic to keep her wings clean.
---<>---
This poor unicorn’s name was Rachis Barbule,
And he’d gone to great lengths to procure the best tools.
---<>---
He had combs, he had brushes, and spells well-prepared.
Her wings were his life, no expense had been spared.
---<>---
But one day, after applying perhaps too much oil,
The Queen met a spark, and his career met a foil.
---<>---
The Moon’s flaming wings were a breathtaking sight,
But in truth they caused Nightmare no lack of sheer fright!
---<>---
A charge of high treason found Rachis thereafter,
And he thought he had met with the end of his laughter.
---<>---
But his hope was rekindled, alongside Mango Leaf.
The kind words of a zebra put an end to their grief.
-----<@>-----
One night both woke sweating, and sat up in their beds.
Both had had Nightmares, dark dreams in their heads.
---<>---
They went to Zecora, who was known to make sense
When the Empress of Dreams a message dispensed.
---<>---
The Nightmare was wont to create fearful dreams
For her prisoners, for she loved the sound of their screams.
---<>---
But Zecora had found that much could be gleaned
From the nature and features of every such dream.
---<>---
To some the Queen gloated, and laughed at their luck.
Others she yelled at and tortured and struck.
---<>---
But in dreams, it would seem, you meet the true pony,
And the Queen of the Dreamworld could sort true from phony.
---<>---
These she would pity, it seemed from their visions,
As soon after waking they were frankly forgiven.
---<>---
And Zecora could tell, once a dream had been told,
If the dream was a pardon, a mock, or a scold.
---<>---
So when the moon rose up high and the inmates awoke,
To Zecora the two disgraced serving staff spoke:
---<>---
“Dear zebra, please help us and give our minds peace.
Are the two of us fated for early release?”
---<>---
“Calm yourselves, ponies! Speak one at a time,”
Zecora began, unerring in rhyme.
---<>---
“Tell me your dreams, but first tell me your crimes.
Your fortune may sink, but let’s see if it climbs.”
-----<@>-----
Rachis went first, telling tale of his life,
And how his profession was the cause of much strife.
---<>---
“The Queen was to meet with a King, old and grand,
The ruler of Haissan, a large far-off land.
---<>---
Now the preenist before me was jailed just as I.
His only crime? Failure! I just had to try!
---<>---
It was a special occasion, so I pulled all the stops.
I used my best oil, and squeezed six extra drops!
---<>---
By the end of my session, the Queen’s feathers shined!
The light off her wings near left me half-blind!
---<>---
It was really quite something, the best I could do,
And though I shook in my horseshoes, I hoped that she knew.
---<>---
But she sat at the head of the table that night,
A little too close to the hearth’s heat and light!
---<>---
Or maybe a candle she carelessly brushed
That took issue with oil that made her wings lush.
---<>---
Regardless of cause, her wings took to flame!
An assassin's attack? Was poor Rachis to blame?
---<>---
She accused me of treason, enchanting the oil,
To dethrone the tyrant, or bring war to boil!
---<>---
I should have plead innocent, it was none of it right!
But fear of the Empress kept my mouth shut tight."
-----<@>-----
"That's how I got here, now on to my dream.
In my sleep, wings of pegasi did I preen.
---<>---
How they shined! How we laughed! Oh, this had I missed!
I’d forgot just how much my old job brought me bliss.
---<>---
These years have I served her, and no one but her,
How I hate her black feathers, black hooves and black fur!
---<>---
In my dream I was free to serve whom I chose!
To my shop came the Wonderbolts, standing in pose!
---<>---
They promised me bits, and I sat them all down,
But behind them came Nightmare, through Canterlot town.
---<>---
She asked me to serve her, so I gave her a chair,
And told her that once I was done, I’d be there.
---<>---
But she would not wait! It had to be then!
She told me to abandon the Wonderbolt Ten!
---<>---
I told her I couldn’t, their business was good.
She ordered my service, but her voice I withstood.
---<>---
I helped all the Wonderbolts, no feather astray,
But to my sheer amazement, they flew off without pay!
---<>---
The Queen sat there waiting, as upwards they flew.
They gathered an army, a great bloody coup!
---<>---
I sobbed as I watched my dear Canterlot burn,
And the whole while the Nightmare watched beside me, astern.
---<>---
‘This whole thing might just not have happened, you know,’
She whispered as ash fell from high, just like snow.
---<>---
‘If you had just served me, and never looked back,
Your world would have order, and your life stayed on track.’
---<>---
I whimpered and groveled, as flames swept around me,
And promised I’d serve her my whole life, quite gladly.
---<>---
It was then I awoke, and I came when I could.
Now tell me please, zebra, does my outlook look good?”
---<>---
Zecora sat silent, and watched him with pity.
Too many, she thought, like him in this city.
---<>---
“I would not fear too much, my dear humble stylist.
Of the dreams I have heard, yours is by far not the vilest.
---<>---
In your case, you may have a pardon in store,
If you question the Empress’s rule here no more.
---<>---
I may not agree with the choice that you made,
But it may be what causes her anger to fade.”
---<>---
Rachis hugged Mango, and started to cry,
And from that moment onward did his spirits fly.
-----<@>-----
Then Mango Leaf turned to the kind, wise Zecora,
Still beaming from sharing in Rachis’s aura.
---<>---
“Oh zebra, please tell me my fate is the same!
My crime was much milder, involving no flame.
---<>---
I served the Queen coffee, night in and night out,
I spent all my time pouring it black from the spout.
---<>---
The kitchen staff is prone to Her Majesty’s vex,
And we all questioned constantly whom we would lose next.
---<>---
We worked very hard to keep the Queen’s favor.
In case we might bore her, we’d try out new flavors.
---<>---
My coffee was average, I feared, not the best,
And only got worse as my nights there progressed.
---<>---
My own little changes were met with distaste,
And Nightmare Moon told me ‘Improve it, posthaste!’”
---<>---
I despaired for my life, and my poor coffee skill,
And I longed for my old job, of making things chilled.
---<>---
My talent was wasted on brewing hot coffee!
I’m born for froze yogurt, iced tea, and cold toffee!
---<>---
I needed a way to twist talent to need.
In desperation, I followed my one simple lead.
---<>---
I’d serve her cold coffee, though my life might be ended!
It’d taste beyond better, be beverage transcended!
---<>---
My powers with cold stuff left other cooks wanting.
I knew if she’d try it, the Queen would be fawning!
---<>---
But that was the trick, as my shaking attested,
When I knocked on her door, my hope in hoof rested.
---<>---
She stared at the mug, and its sad lack of steam,
The ice cubes held within, and the layer of whipped cream.
---<>---
‘What callest thou this?’ she asked, o’er my tray,
And I felt all my confidence melting away.
---<>---
‘Iced coffee, Your Highness,’ I stammered in fear.
‘I’ll gladly explain, if you’ll lend me your ear.
---<>---
‘The coffee I make, as you surely have noted,
Is hardly redeemed by the stuff in it floated.
---<>---
‘My talent, you see, is more suited to freezing.
When I’m forced to brew hot, my skill is left wheezing.
---<>---
‘But when left to brew cold, as you’ll see if you taste,
My talent can shine through, and not go to waste!
---<>---
‘I promise this coffee, though cold and on ice,
Is the best that you’ve tasted, and brings out the spice!
---<>---
Well, that’s what I would say, if only I could,
But I was arrested as soon as she stood.
---<>---
So that’s how I got here, now on to my dream.
Dear zebra, please tell me, am I also redeemed?"
-----<@>-----
"In my dream I was home, Hoofolulu restored!
The sun shone down brightly, and I was happy once more.
---<>---
I sold treats from my cart, to the young and the old,
Gave relief from the heat with a snack that was cold.
---<>---
My family was there, and my friends all as well,
All the faces I think of as I sit in my cell.
---<>---
I cried as I served them, for I knew in my heart
That in the waking world Nightmare Moon kept us apart.
---<>---
And just as I thought this, the Sun sank down low,
and the Moon took its place with a far colder glow.
---<>---
A chill filled my bones that did not come from ice,
And my loved ones all scrambled, like cat-fleeing mice.
---<>---
I followed, not wanting to be left alone,
And we locked ourselves into my old family home.
---<>---
We waited together, our spirits quite dire,
And tried to keep cheer as we sat round the fire.
---<>---
I tried to serve yogurt, but no one was willing.
Without the sun, no one had want for my chilling.
---<>---
I went into the kitchen to clean up my mess,
And cried by myself for unbearable stress.
---<>---
When I came back to the fire, to my outrage and anger,
My family was gone! In their place sat a stranger!
---<>---
An old nag, as dark as the space between stars,
Who gave out a sad wheezing that rattles and jars.
---<>---
She cackled at my protests and grinned at my scowls,
And I gagged at the spittle that flew from her jowls.
---<>---
‘What’s wrong, boy?’ she asked me. ‘Do you not like the night?
Do you not love the respite from the sun shining bright?’
---<>---
‘Not really,’ I answered. ‘Each night it grows colder.
Can we not have it back, ere I grow too much older?’
---<>---
‘I’m afraid we cannot,’ the nag said with a leer.
‘You’ll learn not to miss it, inside of a year.’
---<>---
‘But my friends and my family have all gone away,
And my home is now darkened and cold without day.’
---<>---
‘If it’s home that you want, I think I can find
A place you’ll be useful, with others of kind.’
---<>---
‘Oh please, not to coffee,’ I begged the old housewife.
‘A life without passion is not hardly a life.’
---<>---
‘Are you sure you’ll not do it, and give it your best?
I promise you good work, you’ve not failed your test.’
---<>---
I stood there and pondered, my hoof to my chin,
Of chances and changes, and favors to win.
---<>---
Suddenly on top of the mantle I saw
In a mirror, a cup with a mango and straw.
---<>---
My Cutie Mark! My very own talent and passion!
My whole reason for living! My soul, in a fashion.
---<>---
I turned away from the Nightmare, for Nightmare she was,
And bucked her right out of my dream, just because.
---<>---
I woke straight away, and I came straight to you.
Now tell me please, zebra, will I go free too?”
-----<@>-----
Zecora was crying, as all free folk should,
When they meet such a pony, so valiant and good.
---<>---
But her crying was bitter along with the sweet,
The air grew so tense, she could hear her heartbeat.
---<>---
She smiled and she sniffed, and she rubbed at her eye,
For she knew she would soon have to bid him goodbye.
---<>---
This wasn’t the first time she’d heard such a dream,
With such courage and passion and love in its theme,
---<>---
And every last pony a dream like this had
Was gone the next day, to a fate that was bad.
---<>---
The Moon would not stand for defiance, not a bit.
Not even in prison, in the darkest of pits.
---<>---
In court, she passed sentence, or so it was claimed,
But true judgment came after, in the dreamscape she tamed.
---<>---
The Nightmares decided the fate of each soul,
From the most hardened criminal to the freshly-born foal.
---<>---
The nighttime brought darkness, o’er land and o’er life.
And under, dark feelings in the world had grown rife.
---<>---
Zecora knew, more than most, what was wrong with the world.
That is why she could tell how these things would unfurl.
-----<@>-----
She told Mango his fate, but she told him with pride,
For no matter his end, he stayed on the right side.
---------(-<@>-)---------
Round 1 - Obvious Question
Author's Note
Obvious Question's Character Bio:
OC's Name: Obvious Question
Pony Species: Unicorn
Appearance: His coat is a medium gray and his mane and tail are a darker gray that's close to black. He keeps his mane and tail fairly close-cropped, if a bit unruly. His cutie mark is a highlighter-green interrobang (one of these: !?) Inside a circular outline. His eyes are much the same color as his cutie mark. Most of his body is the size and shape of an average stallion, except for his horn: it's abnormally small and sharp, or, as he prefers to think of it, short and to the point.
History: His parents were fairly well-off. His mother is the prosecutor Leading Question, a unicorn with a dark gray coat and silver mane. His dad is the investigative journalist Followup Question, a pegasus with a (nearly white) gray coat and pink mane. When his parents were asked what they would name their firstborn, they said they had an obvious answer to an obvious question. He wasn't amused to find out the story behind his name. He also has two little sisters he has good relationships with, both pegasi.
At first, he'd wanted to be an investigative journalist like his dad, but nopony really appreciated his talent for asking the questions that were on everypony's minds. Eventually, he found his calling as an odd sort of consultant. When everypony around the table is getting excited about an idea and jumping to conclusions about how wonderful it will turn out, he'll pull the room back down to earth by asking the obvious questions that needed to be asked but nobody else had bothered to ask. As he'd say, "Sure, anypony could do what I do. But how many do it well enough to make a living out of it?"
Personality: What makes Obvious Question happy is seeing that he's making ponies' lives run more smoothly. Some think he takes glee in crushing ponies dreams, but really he just wants to ground ponies's dreams in reality so they have a better chance of succeeding. He also enjoys spending time with his family, particularly his younger sisters, and hearing about their accomplishments.
What gets him angry, or more really, frustrated, is having arguments with ponies who refuse to consider the questions he raises. It's partly an ego thing, but it also feels to him like he can't stop them from charging headlong off a cliff, and that pains him. He's also a bit sensitive about his short horn. He does magic about as well as the next vanilla stallion (that is to say he does basic telekinesis and some minor memory magic well enough), but it was something the other colts and fillies would tease him about while he was growing up.
What gets him into trouble the most is that he has a hard time turning off his talent or leaving his job at work. Because of this, he can often come across as abrasive. It's also led to trouble on the dating scene, as he has a tendency to bring up practical problems that shut down romance. He'll probably find a special somepony someday.
I still don't know who the author was behind Obvious Question, but he did a good job and I wouldn't have been upset if I had lost to him. When I find out who it is, I'll post that here.
What the heck kind of name is "Makepiece?"
Round 1 - Obvious Question
“Mark my words, my lord butler, it shan’t be too long before the master is up to his ears in debt to these hawks he calls ‘associates.’ I tell you I live in constant fear these days that my paychecks will peter out and die on a whimper, like one of my poor tomato plants in this dreadful cold.”
“I grant you that fear, Miss Trowell, but mine is rather based on past evidence: that our incomes will die rather more like a drowning goldfish.”
The ancient theater hall rattled with the roaring laughter of four hundred and ninety-nine Canterlot unicorns, as the stage lights faded and the two actors trotted offstage for the intermission. The hall was capable of seating twice as large an audience, but for a matinee performance of last week’s satiric folly, five hundred was a good turnout.
The five-hundredth unicorn, a grey stallion named Obvious Question, wearing a dark formal business suit, didn’t get the joke, and he said so as soon as the laughing died down enough that he could be heard.
“I don’t get it,” he complained as the curtains closed, to no one in particular. “Goldfish don’t drown. That would be stupid.”
The only pony who heard him was the brown stallion in a tailored grey tuxedo who sat next to him, a stylist by the name of Rachis Barbule. Once he had wiped the tears from his eyes, Rachis leaned over to his neighbor to make himself heard over the noise of the jostling audience. “It’s a jab at Higher Learning’s goldfish story.”
“Higher Learning?” Obvious Question repeated. “Who’s that? It’s not a name I’ve heard yet in the play.”
Rachis Barbule blinked at him. “Well of course not. It’s all good fun until you say their name out loud. Then we’re just being mean. Not to mention, of course, all the legal trouble that would come with using a good citizen’s name and likeness without permission.”
Obvious Question pursed his lips at the stage as a stallion in a white vest and top hat slipped through the curtains to step into a spotlight. The audience cheered and stomped enthusiastically, and he grinned and waved a hoof in return. Obvious frowned and opened his playbill. “Wasn’t this supposed to be an intermission?” he asked himself.
Rachis answered anyway. “It is. You can leave the theater now if you want to. I’m staying here, though. Wouldn’t miss this for anything.” The stallion on the stage began speaking to the crowd, drawing an occasional laugh. A thought suddenly occurred to Rachis and he looked at his neighbor in concern. “Is this your first time here?”
Obvious Question slouched in his seat and scowled at the theater in general, as if it had promised him something and then cheated him out of it. “It’s not my first play, but it’s definitely the strangest.”
Rachis raised his head up and nodded slowly, still frowning. His worry was confirmed. “So this is your first Folly,” he said.
“Is that why the jokes aren’t funny and there’s a guy talking to us during the intermission?”
Rachis grimaced and turned to answer the question, but he stopped when he noticed several dozen ponies in the audience around them turn in their seats to face the two of them. Obvious Question looked around in annoyed bemusement, but Rachis looked up to the stallion on the stage, who was pointing a hoof at them and smiling expectantly. Rachis’s stomach froze and his ears fell flat. He knew what was happening.
Obvious, however, had no clue. “What’s going on? Did I offend everyone or something?”
The stallion on stage beckoned with his outstretched hoof. “Come on, you two! No need to be shy! Well, I guess there might be, but just ignore that feeling!” The audience laughed, and Rachis fought down the beginnings of panic.
He stood up from his seat and used a hoof to pull his companion up with him. “Come on, he’s talking to us!”
Obvious was not happy about being pulled out of his seat, or about being the center of attention of a theater hall. “What are you doing?” he hissed at Rachis, trying to sit back down.
“The writer called us up! You’re making a scene! Come on!”
Obvious looked up to the stage, and finally gave in to the encouragements of the stallion Rachis called ‘the writer.’ The writer beamed and stomped his hooves in applause, followed by the stomping of the rest of the ponies in the hal. “There you go! Get on up here!”
Rachis and Obvious shuffled their way past the other theatergoers in their row to get to the aisle. “What’s going on?” Obvious asked Rachis.
Rachis smiled in gratitude to a large mare who did her best to pull herself out of their way. “That’s–” the two of them stumbled out into the aisle, and Rachis turned to Obvious with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, no time to explain.”
The writer led the audience in applause as his two volunteers made their way on to the stage, then stopped. The stomping lingered on for a moment, then died down just as Obvious caught back up to Rachis, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You tell me what’s going on, or so help me, I will trip you right now.”
The four hundred and ninety-nine Canterlot socialites in the audience roared with laughter, and Obvious froze in horror as he heard his “whisper” echo around the room. Rachis halted as well in mid-step, wincing painfully and scrunching his face.
The writer was brimming with mirth. “Gotta love those sound-amplifying enchantments, right? You two are my volunteers for my intermission address. I would say it’s the best part of the evening, but this is all improv and the rest I spent hours and hours slaving over.” The audience laughed and he lit his horn and floated three wooden chairs over to him from offstage, gesturing for his volunteers to sit down. Rachis pursed his lips and didn’t look up as he took his seat, and Obvious trembled and blushed furiously, looking at something only he could see.
“So,” said the writer from his chair, cutting off the last lingering laughs from the audience, “Why don’t you introduce yourselves for us?”
Neither Rachis nor Obvious were eager to speak first, or at all. After a moment of them exchanging glances with each other, the writer made the decision for them. “Why don’t you go first, with the grey mane,” he suggested, gesturing to Obvious Question, whose eyes went even wider. He waved a hoof dismissively at the crowd. “Just pretend they aren’t here. Just you and me.” His horn lit up again, and everything outside the stage seemed to fade out of Obvious’s vision. The writer winked at him, and Obvious began to feel a little more confident.
“My name’s Obvious Question. What’s yours?” The sound of more laughter reached Obvious’s ears, but it seemed to come from a great distance. He looked around in confusion.
The writer chuckled a bit himself. “I think I can guess what your talent is. Like I said before, and like it says on the playbill, and on the sign outside…” He smiled sidelong in the direction the audience had been, and there was more distant laughter. Rachis shrank further into his seat, but Obvious just looked at the writer intently. “My name is Makepiece. What do you think of my play so far?” Rachis forgot all pretence and buried his face in his hooves. Neither of his companions on the stage paid him any mind, but the audience, beyond the perception of the three of them, did, and leaned forward to hear what he was so afraid of.
“Your play? Did you write it or direct it?”
Makepiece looked away and smiled again. “Both. Do you like it?”
“Not really, it’s really weird and doesn’t make much sense.”
A distant sound reached them, like four hundred and ninety-nine ponies saying “oooh” all at once in the next building over. Makepiece pouted dramatically, and was rewarded with more laughter. “Ouch,” he said, triggering even more laughter. “You really don’t like it? Well please, share with me what I can do to improve it!” Rachis shifted in his seat again.
“Well,” Obvious began, all of his earlier intimidation forgotten, “half of the jokes weren’t funny at all. I don’t know why everyone laughed so much.”
Makepiece tilted his head. “Really?” he asked. “Which ones? Can you give me some examples?”
“Like that last one,” Obvious said, glancing offstage to indicate the actors who had played the two servants right before the intermission. “Why would a drowning goldfish be any funnier than a dying tomato plant? The only difference is that a goldfish can’t really drown, but it’s not that much funnier than a plant dying to be worth making the last joke about it.”
The very faintest hint of booing could just be heard on the stage through Makepiece’s soundproofing enchantment. Makepiece himself raised a hoof towards where he knew the audience was to quiet them down, and then pursed his lips at Obvious. “You put me in a difficult position here, Mister Question. Theater etiquette prevents me from explaining that particular joke to you more fully, but I can assure you there’s a bit more to it than what you said.”
“Mister Makepiece?” Rachis interrupted, raising a hoof. The writer nodded and waved a hoof for him to speak. Rachis gave a nervous glance to where the audience had been a minute ago, then took a deep breath. “Obvious was just telling me before we came up here that this is his first Folly. He doesn’t know what it’s about.”
Obvious looked at him in confusion. “What? Of course I know what the play’s about. Why wouldn’t I?”
Rachis and Makepiece exchanged a quick glance, then turned back to Obvious Question. “Alright then, what’s it about?” Makepiece asked. “Without names, of course,” he added with a smile and a wink to the audience.
“No names?” Obvious shrugged. “Okay. It’s about a professor with a gambling problem. And no one likes him.” The hidden audience burst into laughter again, and Rachis laughed with them.
Makepiece grinned widely. “Remind you of anyone? And don’t say their name! He might be in the building! Oops!” He raised a hoof to cover his mouth and turned theatrically to the audience with wide eyes as they laughed even more. He leaned forward and shushed conspiratorily.
He turned back to Obvious Question with a smile, but Obvious was staring at him through narrowed eyes. A moment passed, and some chuckles came from the audience. Finally Obvious said something. “Is there something I’m not getting here?” The dam broke and the audience roared with laughter again.
Makepiece choked on a laugh and shook his head with mirth. “As a short answer, Obvious Question, yes, there is. We’re running out of time for the intermission, though, so let’s move on to our other volunteer. What’s your name, sir?”
Rachis introduced himself, wiping a tear from his eye. “Rachis Barbule. And I love the play so far.”
Makepiece nodded deeply. “That’s a relief. I was afraid for a moment there.”
Rachis smiled with him. “Yeah, I once took a class from a certain unnamed professor at Celestia’s, so I’m loving this.” His words were met with enthusiastic cheering and applause from the unseen audience.
“I’m so confused,” Obvious Question commented, causing more laughter.
“Don’t worry, Mister Question. I’m sure after the play is over Mister Barbule here can sit down with you and explain everything.”
“Definitely, you should come down to the salon. You deserve a free manecut.” Rachis raised a hoof and flicked one of Obvious’s unruly bangs. “Not to mention how much you need one.” More chuckles from the crowd.
“Oh, you’re a stylist?” Makepiece asked in interest as Obvious patted down his bangs defensively.
Rachis nodded. “To pay the bills, mostly. I’m really a preenist.”
“No kidding,” Obvious said. The crowd burst out laughing again.
“Come again?” Makepiece asked through his chuckling.
Rachis smiled patiently. “I clean and style pegasus wings. I’m the only preenist in Canterlot.”
“Oh I know that’s not true,” Obvious said with a smile to the audience, who returned his amusement with more laughter. He seemed to be loving this as much as they were.
Makepiece rolled his eyes and shook his head. “So while you’ve got our attention here, since you’ve been so supportive of my play–” he turned in his seat and looked pointedly at Obvious, who recoiled and frowned. “Why don’t you plug your business for us? Where can we find you?”
Rachis’s face lit up. “Thank you!” He turned to where he knew the audience was. “Come down to Gillette and Barbule, on Beta and Elysium above Newton and Mulberry Law Firm! Our primary focus is stallions’ manes, coats, and tails, but we are also the premiere preening salon in Equestria, as voted by Primary and Covert wing care magazine two years running! Come in for a trim yourself, and tell all the pegasi you know about us!”
Rachis looked back at Makepiece, who turned back to the audience. “Well, the actors are getting antsy, so–”
“Hang on,” Obvious Question interrupted, looking at Rachis in puzzlement.
“Yes, Obvious?” Makepiece asked, looking nervously offstage.
“You’re a unicorn,” Obvious stated, nodding at Rachis.
Rachis turned slowly to regard him, blinking at him with a straight face. “Yes.” The audience laughed and Makepiece bit his lip.
Obvious blinked back, his expression frozen in deep thought. “But… your talent is taking care of pegasus wings? How in Equestria did you end up with a talent like that as a unicorn?”
Makepiece frowned in thought. “He raises a good point, Rachis. Now I’m curious. I’d love to hear your Cutie Mark story, if you’re willing to share.” The audience cheered.
Rachis raised his eyebrows and pointedly looked away from the wall of nothingness that was cheering. “Oh believe me, you would, but I’d be too afraid of next week’s show involving a certain unnamed wing stylist, if you know what I mean. I’ve already gotten my share of the public spotlight here, thank you very much. Sorry, I’m not telling my story now.”
Makepiece and Obvious Question both slumped in disappointment, but the writer shrugged it off. “Oh well, we’re out of time anyway. Thank you, Obvious Question and Rachis Barbule. I think this has been the most interesting intermission I’ve been a part of for a long time. But hey, it is only an intermission after all! We still have half a play to enjoy! Or not enjoy, as the case may be. Let the show go on!”
Makepiece rushed offstage to thunderous applause, and Rachis and Obvious went back to their seats still the object of everyone’s attention. Obvious Question still didn’t get any of the jokes in the second act, but afterward the two of them were swarmed by Canterlot elite, who gleefully explained the idea of a satiric folly to Obvious, who didn’t much appreciate knowing.
Over the next few months business boomed for both of them as word spread, and though the Follies never performed a play with a wing stylist or a straightforward unicorn as the protagonists, every script Makepiece wrote after that night featured a very familiar comedic duo as recurring cameo characters. They were crowd favorites, and the two actors who played them went on to do their own travelling vaudeville show years later. Rachis and Obvious both received VIP tickets to Makepiece’s next play, but neither of them ever attended the Follies again.
Obvious Question never took Rachis Barbule up on his offer of a free haircut.
