Chapters 1.
Like most disasters, Mayor Mayor Mayor started out by being born.
Mayor Mayor Mayor probably didn't deserve the flack she got for being born. If it'd been up to her she would've avoided the whole messy affair and just never bothered existing in the first place. Such was the early life of Mayor Mayor, everyone in her extended family (excepting her father, who never resented anything) resented her for being born in the first place. But really, who could blame them? Mayor Mayor didn't.
In the first place, it really wasn't a fair trade. Unlike her mother, at first Mayor Mayor couldn't talk, or walk, or even reason. She needed tending to and fed, and worst, cleaned. She made messes of the most odious and horrible variety. Her mother could've done all those things for herself and more, and would have cared for Mayor Mayor herself if she hadn't been permanently excused by Mayor Mayor. Instead it fell to Mayor Mayor's uncles and aunts and cousins to care for the child.
Most heinous of her crimes was that she forced them to put up with Mayor Mayor's father. Mayor Mayor's father was a nutter, professionally. He raised trees for nuts. He was also a complete lunatic: a unicorn who believed he could farm as well as any earth pony when his cutie mark displayed sheets of legal tax forms. He also named Mayor Mayor, after discerning with a keen and mad eye that the name of a pony often corresponded to their lot in life.
"Who knows? You could even be the Mayor of Canterlot!" Mayor Mayor's father told her, when she had complained of not yet having her cutie mark. He concluded the obvious: The reason she didn't have her cutie mark was that she hadn't tried Mayoring yet.
"Just remember, you're just as good as any unicorn, just as any unicorn is just as good as any earth pony!"
Mayor Mayor Mayor's father's name was Quill Filing, but that didn't put him off the business of farming nuts. The only time Mayor Mayor Mayor's father's business actually turned a profit was after Mayor Mayor was born. The surge of magic caused by the newborn earth pony caused the nuts to grow massive and break the limbs of the trees they hung from. Such nuts were a delicacy to dragons, and were quickly sold on the open market. For the most part though, they survived off the grass of the land, and the charity of their relatives and neighbors, and most of all almonds. Lots and lots of almonds.
"You can do anything you put your mind to! The only limit is your imagination!" Mayor Mayor's father told her, as he shook some nuts down from a tree. For a long time, Mayor Mayor managed to fool herself into believing this madness.
After Mayor Mayor was old enough to work the almond farm and go to school, her extended family moved out of Ponyville with no forwarding address. About that time was when Mayor Mayor began to think about what she wanted to do with her life.
"Mayor of Canterlot?" Her teacher guffawed. "There is no Mayor of Canterlot. The entire city is controlled by Princess Celestia herself."
Mayor Mayor looked down in shame.
2.
Mayor Mayor Mayor didn't want to be disaster, or even a mayor! She definitely didn't want to be an almond farmer. What Mayor Mayor really wanted to be was a librarian. Her dream was to be the head librarian of the royal library of Canterlot. Often she would imagine herself pawing through the ratted scrolls and ancient tomes of knowledge, only to be whisked away by some long forgotten spell to a land more exotic and interesting then boring old Equestria.
"What?!" Said her father, when she told him that's what she wanted to do with her life.
"What?!" Said the her teacher, who'd already appointed Mayor Mayor to be class president, as well as adjusted the curriculum to include more civics lessons.
"What?!" Said the pony who was interviewing her for the position of Canterlot Royal Librarian. "You're an Earth Pony?"
"What!?" Said Mayor Mayor, who had applied to the job under the name of Scroll Binding. It'd never occurred to her that this might be a problem.
Mayor Mayor decided to become a librarian on account of the local Ponyville library had been the only place she could reliably get away from her father and her classmates. No one ever wanted to go to the damp dilapidated hut that served as Ponyville's library but the Librarian, an old mare who was hard of hearing, and Mayor Mayor.
Her classmates resented her for being named Mayor Mayor, and the fact that she was appointed to class presidency without an election. Mayor Mayor never wanted to be class president, and in fact hated the job, which mostly involved doing boring, menial chores for the teacher. They mostly resented that she was destined for the greatness of mayoralty while they all had farming cutie marks.
Several of her classmates did in fact go on to be Mayors in other, better country towns, spurred by their distaste of Mayor Mayor and the increased civics curriculum, as well as their natural knowledge of farming. All of them went on to be successful Mayors of minor note in their town's histories, unlike the disaster Mayor Mayor would inevitably become.
Her classmates also hated Mayor Mayor because Mayor Mayor's father was a nutter and a lunatic, who gave them free almonds when picking up Mayor Mayor from school. The first time it'd been a pleasant surprise. By the five hundredth time everyone in the school was sick to death of almonds, Mayor Mayor's father, and Mayor Mayor.
"Almonds suck, and so do you." One colt put it succinctly.
Mayor Mayor tried to explain that she also hated almonds, but none of her classmates believed her on account of their natural distrust of politicians.
"It's just a campaign promise. She'll start shoving almonds off on us again as soon as she becomes class president again."
After a while, Mayor Mayor succeeded in convincing her father to let her bring the nuts with her to class in the morning. Then she began dumping them in the Ponyville stream, resulting in her popularity to also start plummeting among the fish. Her popularity amongst her peers was unaffected.
Since Mayor Mayor hated her school life and her home life, she found the library a natural retreat. Since she had nothing else to excel in, she excelled in school. She graduated with honors and after a lot of needling and more then a few tears, managed to convince her father to enroll her in a correspondence courses for a degree in library sciences. She'd successfully earned her masters through the correspondence courses, and even gotten her cutie mark handling spell scrolls while volunteering at the Ponyville library. Everything seemed to point to a bright future as a librarian.
Which is why Mayor Mayor was now trying to salvage her bright future before it could even begin. A creeping sense of unreality seeped over her as she stared at the interviewer, who still had the gall to stare at Mayor Mayor with a look of incredulity. It was as though the interviewer thought Mayor Mayor was being the absurd one, which was in itself absurd.
"You're an earth pony!" Mayor Mayor said.
The interviewer was indeed an earth pony, female, with mint green fur and long, luxurious purple hair. The beauty, however, was marred by the scowl she gave Mayor Mayor from behind her desk. It was like she was looking down at the mare, even though they were about the same height.
"It's different. I'm an Administrative Assistant. You're applying to be a Librarian."
The name on her desk said Wintergreen, but the mare never bothered to introduce herself. Her last name was indeed Wintergreen, and she didn't like being an administrative assistant, and she didn't like Mayor Mayor much either. She liked sweet things and socks and not much else. Very few ponies liked Wintergreen, but she was alright with that, she didn't like most ponies. So long as they didn't become problems, Wintergreen was content to leave most ponies alone. She was pretty sure Mayor Mayor was going to be a problem.
By now, Mayor Mayor had worked up the will to be indignant. She sat down in front of the desk, not willing to move until she got the interview she felt she deserved. "I am a very capable Librarian with good credentials and plenty of experience. I can manage a library as well as any unicorn or pegasus. I will bring this to Celestia herself if I have too."
Mayor Mayor was bluffing on that last part, she wasn't sure how long she could afford to stay in the city. No doubt the wait list to appear in court before Celestia was longer then she could manage, but everything was riding on this job.
Wintergreen was undisturbed. In fact, a slight smile ticked at her lips. "Can you cast Dispel?"
"What?"
"I said, can you cast dispel? I know of at least one earth pony who's natural ability is an anti-magic field. He could get a job here, pretty easy. So, Ms... Binding was it? Does your cutie mark imply the ability to close spell scrolls before they can be used?"
Mayor Mayor didn't know what to think of this. While the possibility of lying occurred to her, she was pretty sure that the other mare would force her to demonstrate the talent. Mayor Mayor spluttered. "No. I-"
Wintergreen raised a hoof to silence the mare. "Now, suppose a foolish unicorn student picks out to read, I don't know, the incantation to summon Erebus, or cast greater firestorm, or open gate to Tartarus, what would you do?"
"W-well, um, I'd make sure that they couldn't even get access to those kind of scrolls!" Mayor Mayor managed.
It was at this that Wintergreen smiled, a hidden glee coming to fruition. "Are you really suggesting that we don't allow people to read things... at a library?"
Mayor Mayor felt red hot frustration flow into her cheeks. "There's no reason the average pony would need those kind of scrolls!"
"Are you sure? I mean, what if a pony really needs to talk to Erebus, in order to, say, complete a thesis, or prevent some disaster, or merely to have a friendly chat?"
"Then perhaps something could be arranged, if they had good reason-"
"As judged by you? Is that what Scroll Binding means? Are you going to bind shut all the scrolls of equestria?" Wintergreen laughed. "Suppose someone did convince you that they had good reason, the fate of equestria or something silly like that, and then things got out of hand? What would you do then?"
"I'm not a wizard!"
"Exactly."
The room lapsed into silence. Wintergreen continued to smile, a hint of triumph infiltrating it's malice. Mayor Mayor's mind was preoccupied with the notion of her dream, the little story in her head she'd told herself since she was little. It was as if someone committed the dream to paper, enclosed it in a tome, canonized it, and then here was this Wintergreen who was tearing out the pages and declaring it to be the sloppy romance fiction it really was. "So. There's no way that I, as an earth pony, can become a Librarian. In Canterlot."
"No."
"Are there any openings for any other positions. More-" Ugh, the words felt distasteful on Mayor Mayor's lips."-Administrative Assistants?"
"Full up at the moment." Wintergreen's smile had gone from menacing to false cheer, the kind of smile one wore during route, routine business meetings. She'd won already. "We will accept future applications, feel free to try again at a later date."
The rest of the exchange was a blur to Mayor Mayor. Things must have been said, but they existed as individual flashes in Mayor Mayor's memory, like a photo album that had been jumbled up so that there was no story, no continuity behind the rapid fire images of people and places. There was her shouting, or was it pleading? The desk. Her hooves on the desk. The green mare shoving her towards the exit.
All that Mayor Mayor could recall with clarity was the horrible, empty, cheerful smile of Wintergreen as she ushered Mayor Mayor outside the office, perfectly content with the crushing of the other mares dream.
"Don't come back," Wintergreen said, and slammed the door to the office shut behind her.
Mayor Mayor applied for most of the libraries in the towns surrounding Canterlot before her bits finally ran out. Most of them had heard what she'd done on the interview, and as such turned her down. Mayor Mayor suspected Wintergreen had made certain that they knew. They wouldn't tell Mayor Mayor what'd she'd done so wrong, even when she'd asked, even though she suspected she already knew the answer. She could try again in Manehatten or Fillydelphia, but she would have to save some more bits first, but most of all, she'd wanted to be a Canterlot Librarian.
Dejected and defeated, Mayor Mayor returned to Ponyville to become the Librarian there, because nobody else wanted the job.
1.
Mayor Mayor wasn't the only one cursed with the misfortune of having to work in Ponyville. In fact, many ponies worked in Ponyville, although Mayor Mayor suspected that they were all secretly as miserable as her. One pony who did work in Ponyville who wasn't miserable was Solid Wall, who's cutie mark was as his name described and who often explained to any reasonably attractive mare passing by that it represented his sturdy dependableness, among other things.
Solid Wall spent most of his days not inspecting buildings. His monthly stipend came in whether or not he actually ever inspected the buildings he was supposed to, so he never bothered. The secret to his success was not doing anything even remotely laborious, and generally just cheating and lying as best he could. It was a good life he had in Ponyville, waking up, drinking as much cider as he could manage, hitting on as many mares as he could manage, and not inspecting as many buildings as he could manage. He really didn't want to screw it up by finding out that one of the buildings he was responsible for was dilapidated. For one thing that meant he would have to stop drinking cider and being a lecher, and instead start inspecting buildings. Worse, he would have to start fixing buildings. Such a horrible fate was not meant for good men such as himself.
Unfortunately, a beam had snapped off the town hall and had come inches from bludgeoning some poor foal who was playing near the building, and now he had to inspect it. From an outside glance, undisturbed by the presence of cider-goggles, it didn't take long for him to come to the sad, but logical conclusion about the state of the building, and he knew that in his future, the long blade of the specter of work hung over him. Since the mayor and his assistant were usually the only ones to ever used the building, it was his duty to inform the Mayor of the news.
There'd only ever been two mayors in Ponyville. The first mayor, Pilgrim Heart, won the election simply because none of the Apple family wanted the job. Pilgrim Heart had built much of the structure of the current town, the dam, the town hall, and even most of the dirt roads had been built under her administration,. She was often regarded as the founder of Ponyville despite the Apples actual claim to the title, and it was her statue that stood near the center of town, reminding everypony of her ever watchful iron gaze. After she retired, the development of Ponyville ebbed to a halt and for the most part the town just chugged along in the absence of government. The next mayor to be elected was Mayor Strawpony, who was continually reelected because neither the Apple family nor the Rich family wanted the job. In fact, he'd run unopposed every election he'd ever been in.
Like Solid Wall, the mayor seemed to be in the habit of doing nothing. The real power in Ponyville lay within the hands of the Apple Family and the Rich Family. The Apples had Zap Apple Jam. The Riches had fooled the Apples into selling them Zap Apple Jam at honest prices, which they then proceeded to sell on the open market for dishonest prices. Everybody was happy, and anything the Apples or the Riches wanted, they usually got, and Ponyville continued it's slow, ragged upward climb into middling levels of prosperity.
The town hall had been built to be a community center, but since Ponyville weather was almost always mild even in the dead of summer, most events just took place outside. It didn't help that the town hall had an unsavory reputation for being dilapidated. Solid Wall had supervised the last work done to the building personally. He had watched with a wise and proud eye as the carpenters and builders he'd hired built the little office inside that now separated the entrance of the building from the large and formerly lavish interior, and did everything in his power not to help. The town hall had been in moderate repair back then, now the little annex was presumably the only thing in good condition. He couldn't be sure because, like everyone else, he hadn't seen the interior of the building since the construction of the office. The mayor didn't like to be disturbed.
Solid Wall entered the building with the sort of swagger that could only be achieved by a man who didn't know what he was up against. He'd seen the mayor's current assistant a few times, but since he avoided town hall as though it were a dragon that may be tempted to gobble him if he got too close, he'd not gotten many chances to speak with the pretty young mare.
The pretty young mare didn't even bother to look up at him as he entered, preferring instead to stare at a clothing catalogue on her desk. Solid Wall was not deterred, he cleared his throat and waited.
The pretty young mare turned a page.
Solid Wall was not used to being ignored by mares, or at least, not used to being ignored without a glare and some rolled eyes. That said, he knew exactly what to do in a situation like this. Solid Wall leapt into action by coughing, but not too loud.
The mayor's assistant continued to ignore him.
Solid Wall was flummoxed. For a moment, he considered just leaving and coming back later, but that would not do at all. He was good at avoiding work at all cost, but he didn't want to be responsible for the injury of other ponies. It was only a matter of time before the town hall came crumbling down on the mayors assistant and the mayor, and he didn't really want that on his conscience, or else he might have to start drinking cider for reasons other than fun.
"Uh," Solid Wall said.
"Yes?" The mayor's assistant said, not looking up from her book.
"I need to see the mayor."
The assistant looked up. She inspected the colt with the sort of wide eyed empty gaze that meant that she was immediately forgetting his every feature as soon as she saw them. She looked back down at her catalogue. "The mayor is not to be disturbed. Come back in a couple hours."
"Oh, okay. Thanks," Solid Wall said, and left. The assistant flipped another page of her catalogue.
A couple hours and a couple cold ciders later, Solid wall returned to the office. The assistant had moved on to another catalogue and continued to blithely ignore him. For the first time he noticed something peculiar about the otherwise barren room.
"Socks," he said.
The assistant started, she hadn't heard him come in. Then she glared at him, eyes slanted in distrust and suspicion. "What?"
"Socks." Solid Wall repeated, his voice a little slurred. "The walls. You nailed socks on the walls."
"Oh," the assistant said, she seemed almost disappointed, but also relaxed. Her inspection turned from memorizing a hostile intruder to merely observing an unintentional intruder. "And you are?"
Solid Wall had all the answers at his disposal. "I'm Solid Wall. I'm the town inspector. I need to see the mayor."
The interest the mare had waned at the mention of the mayor, and she looked back down at her catalogue. "The mayor is not to be disturbed. Come back in a couple hours."
"You said that last time."
"Those are my instructions." Each word she spoke was filled with the passion of a schoolchild reciting times tables. "If you have issues with them, take them up with the mayor."
"I will, can I see him now?"
"In a couple hours."
"It's important that I see him."
"In a couple hours."
"When exactly? Do you have a specific time he'll be available?"
"In a couple hours."
Solid Wall stopped and rubbed his temple with his hoof. They could've replaced the girl with a parrot from out of the everfree, or even a simple blackboard with 'in a couple hours' repeated over and over on it. It was time to try another approach.
"It's about the building. This building. The building you're sitting in looking pretty, girl. It's rotten, no good, needs to be condemned. It'll join the great building heap in gehenna soon enough, and if I don't see the mayor-"
"In a couple hours," the mare said, flipping another page in her catalogue. She hadn't listened to a word he'd said.
Solid Wall gave up. What else could he do? He left defeated, and returned to the relative safety and sanity of the salt bar. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, and he was at a loss as to how to proceed. For the first time in his career, he was trying to do his job, only to find his job was impossible to do in the first place. Also for the first time, he found the bar brought no comfort to his turmoil. The cider tasted stale, and he could taste its inferiority in comparison to Apple family cider. He several all the same, but they didn't bring him much joy.
It was late evening when he limped from the bar to try one more time at getting through to the mayor. The town hall was not far, and he found his way with relative ease. No one was about on the streets of Ponyville that night, although he kind of half expected something strange to happen, like having that old ghoul Madam Pie lurch out of the darkness to startle him once again. Nothing happened, and he arrived at the town hall without incident, only to find that the front door was locked.
For a moment, Solid Wall just stood there, his hoof pressing against the door over and over as if somehow it might be unlocked the next time he pushed it. His inebriated mind eventually caught on, and he stood there for another moment, trying to figure out what to do.
"Would either of you have a quill I could borrow?" He asked the two mail ponies, who were struggling with a large crate nearby. They'd been whispering to themselves for several moments as he worked at the door, and he felt like they should at least try to help him.
The mail ponies lapsed into silence, and one produced a quill. "We were never here, understand?"
"Uh-huh," said Solid Wall, taking the quill and ignoring them completely. He had a solution for this problem. On the doors to the town hall he wrote in a large, bold, shaky hand:
CONTEMD
Content with his handiwork, he gave the quill back to the mailpony and left, heading for the comfort of his home and his bed. It was the middle of the night when he woke up, still somewhat drunk, and realized he hadn't actually accomplished anything. He supposed this was all in a good days work, and went back to sleep. He woke up again in the morning with a splitting hangover.
1.
A hangover is also what Mayor Mayor had the morning she returned from Canterlot. Somehow she survived the thrum of the train engine, the shrill scream of the whistle, and the squeal of the brakes, though it was a mystery to her how her head didn't explode at the combination of all three. She landed on the station platform with wobbly legs and a parched throat, her head throbbing from the aftermath of the ride. No one was waiting for her.
Mayor Mayor was the only passenger that arrived that morning. Ponyville had yet to turn into the burgeoning metropolis it would become, and most ponies avoided the town. For one thing, it was close to the everfree forest, which everyone was certain was filled with monsters that nobody ever saw. For another, all the town's water had the unmistakable bittersweet tinge of almonds, and no amount of filtering by the pegasi ever managed to get rid of the taste.
Mayor Mayor had a problem, and the headache that drummed in her head wasn't helping her solve it. She wanted to be a Canterlot librarian, and now she knew this was the equivalent to a unicorn wanting to be a weather pony. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't burned her bridges and her checkbook in the process. She was almost desperate enough to consult Madam Pie.
"You don't understand!" Mayor Mayor had shouted, slamming her hooves on the desk before her. "I'm going to die of almond poisoning!"
Wintergreen's smile had grown broader.
After picking up some apple juice, Mayor Mayor parked herself under the shade of the old oak tree. There was no rush to return to the farm just yet, and she could use the time to dull her headache before her father gave her another one. The day was pleasant if nothing else. Ponies milled about the nearby marketplace, trying to shove off the excess food they didn't ship to Canterlot or Fillydelphia on their neighbors. Spring was in the air, and a few couples strolled by in gay ignorance of Mayor Mayors plight.
The oak was one of the sole survivors of Pilgrim Heart's maniacal urbanization campaign, and it was where Mayor Mayor spent much of her time reading when outside the library. The old librarian used to come around there too, from time to time, and they would sit together in the shade and not say anything. A comfortable silence between friends.
It was also where Mayor Mayor failed to have her first romance.
There'd been a lot of romance books at the library, and even a few of them that hadn't been ruined by the leaky roof. Mayor Mayor had read all of them, even the worst ones and the ones that went all unreadable and soggy halfway through. It really didn't matter if they were ruined, since she could always pick up one that had the first half ruined and read the second half of that instead and feel almost no sense of discontinuity. The characters were always almost exactly the same, and all she had to do was adjust the names in her head, and everything would work out perfectly
The only other person who came to the library with any regularity at that time was a wiry colt name Carrot Cake. Neither of them had their cutie marks yet, but Carrot was nibbling around the edges of his. He spent most of his time looking at cookbooks, and checked them out regularly and renewed them and returned them on time. He wasn't attractive by any means, but neither was Mayor Mayor.
The most endearing quality about Carrot Cake, other then the fact that at the time he was a nervous wreck, all jutting bones and hormones, was that he never actually made fun of Mayor Mayor for her name. He was polite and milquetoast. He liked baking and boring jokes, like the ones found on popsicle sticks. Sometimes he brought some of his creations with him to the library to give to Mayor Mayor and the old librarian, and Mayor Mayor would blush and go stupid whenever he gave her a cupcake or muffin or some other confectionery.
Things came to a head one afternoon when Mayor Mayor finally worked up the courage to invite him to sit with her outside by the tree. They sat in silence for a bit, as Mayor Mayor munched on the cupcake he'd made, and Carrot leafed through a cook book. He was trying, and failing, to figure out the recipes. Water from the leaky roof had run through the book, causing the words to go all runny, wiping out entire measurements on some pages and whole ingredients on others. It was a testament to his skill that he ever produced anything worthwhile from the books at the library.
"So," Mayor Mayor said, after she'd finished her cupcake. She'd done her best to pretty herself up today, but she was keenly aware of her ridiculous pink mane and tail. "Why do you come around the library so often?"
"Oh. Well, I thought you knew." Carrot said, looking up from his book. "I want to be a cook."
"Is there no other reason?" Mayor Mayor asked, batting her eyelashes.
"Well, there is sort of something else." Carrot buried his face in his book, as though he were a turtle hiding in its shell for protection. "But you can't tell anyone."
"Oh?" Mayor Mayor moved closer to Carrot. "Your secret is safe with me. I promise."
"You're teasing me." Carrot accused. "Anyways, it's not really that much of a secret. Um, there's this girl I like."
Mayor Mayor quivered in anticipation. Here it was, just like in the romance novels. A quiet place, a confession. No conflict or drama, just the power of romance, just two souls intertwining. "Go on."
"Well, I think she really likes sweets, so I've been practicing making them for her. Once I have the perfect cupcake, she's certain to go steady with me."
"Oh, your cupcakes are perfect already, Carrot." Mayor Mayor gushed. "I'm certain she'd go steady with you, if you just asked."
"Really? You think so?" Carrot Cake's face raised from behind the book. "I'm glad I've been testing them out on you then. They're really that good?"
"Like I said, perfect." Mayors Mayors eyes were wide, she drew closer and closer.
Carrot Cake tossed the book from where it had been propped between his crossed hooves and stood up. The book slammed Mayor Mayor in the face, but Carrot Cake didn't even notice. He was straight and confidant. "Great! I can't wait to give Cup O'Sugar one then!"
Mayor Mayor's face stung. "Who?"
"Cup O'Sugar." Carrot Cake said. "The girl I like."
"Oh."
That ended Mayor Mayor's fascination with romance stories. It occurred to her later she'd started in one romance story and ended in another with the names changed, and the thought left a bad taste in her mouth. Mayor Mayor only dated one colt in the intervening years. She saw Davenport of Davenport's Quills and Sofas. The romance was one of convenience. The relationship ended in an argument over something insignificant.
Davenport was one of the first ponies to denounce Mayor Mayor when it was learned she was running for office.
"She only dated me for my quills. She hated my sofas." He explained.
2.
Most ponies didn't believe almond poisoning was a real thing, no matter how much Mayor Mayor tried to convince them otherwise. It was only a matter of time, she knew, before some bitter, wild almonds would sneak into her food supply and be the end of her. She was in a race against time, and knew it. The meager pay she would earn from being the Ponyville librarian wouldn't be enough to feed her without supplementing her diet with the almonds she could get for free.
Not to mention all the madcap schemes her father used to try to sneak almonds into the other farmers products. Almonds and carrots, Zap Apple and almond jam, almond pesticide. These were the sort of thing that would be the end of Mayor Mayor. Particularly the almond pesticide, since it meant Mayor Mayor's father was growing wild almonds.
"You're nuts!" Mayor Mayor told him, after she'd come back from Canterlot.
"No, Mayor Mayor," Mayor Mayor's father said, with the patient tone of a parent explaining something simple to a child, "these are nuts. I'm Quill Filing."
"Nuts." Mayor Mayor's father pointed at the warm almonds with ketchup he had served her, then he pointed at himself. "Quill Filing."
"For the last time, dad, I'm not stupid! I just don't want to be a mayor."
"Of course dear." He said, then leaned over to the girl he'd shacked up with while Mayor Mayor was away. "She's sensitive about it. Don't bring it up if you can avoid it."
The mare nodded and continued to eat Mayor Mayor's father's almonds.
"She's almost my age, dad!" Mayor Mayor shouted.
The mare Quill Filing had shacked up with was about five years older the Mayor Mayor, and they were both well into their adulthood. It was still off-putting.
"You'll understand when you're older dear." He said, not really paying attention to her. "Darling, would you like some more nuts?"
The mare nodded and attempted to say yes, but her mouth was full of almonds. The mare was almost as nutty as Mayor Mayor's father. She loved almonds for one thing, and she seemed to at least like Quill Filing. Neither of these things made any sense, and Mayor Mayor was at a loss as to what to do with these sudden changes in her life.
They sat in silence for several moments, Mayor Mayor's father and the mare continued to eat. Mayor Mayor wasn't hungry anymore, and shoved her plate away.
"You didn't have to put her stuff in my room!" Mayor Mayor exploded.
"I didn't think you'd be coming back. You were off to start a new life in Canterlot." Mayor Mayor's father shrugged. "Oh well, you can stay here until you get back on your feet, since that's what you seem to want. You'll just have to sleep on the floor until we can clear out your room."
"What do you mean 'I can stay?'" Mayor Mayor was flabbergasted. "I live here already!"
For the first time, the mare who Mayor Mayor's father had shacked up with stopped eating and spoke. "Your father can't coddle you forever. You're almost as old as me, remember? It's past time to move on."
Mayor Mayor's father nodded in agreement.
Mayor Mayor looked back and forth between the two of them. She stood, and walked out. This is how Mayor Mayor, well beyond the cusp of adulthood, ran away from home.
Unbeknownst to her, the mare Mayor Mayor's father shacked up with was in fact a changeling, feeding on his love of almonds. It was a feast, and she slowly savored it for years. Sucking the love of nuts out of him, driving him slowly sane. By the time Mayor Mayor was on speaking terms with him again he was once again at his real work, filing income taxes for Ponyville residents. It was hard to say whether it was improvement or not. He was less happy, but he also had quit almonds before they killed him and probably most of Ponyville.
The changeling went on to her next victim, but never could quite quit her almond eating habit.
1.
At first nobody knew that Mayor Mayor was even in the election. Not even Mayor Mayor, who'd sequestered herself inside the library until she could fix her hair. Nobody noticed because nobody ever went to the library except for the strange pony with the indistinct cutie mark. In order to ward off all the ponies who didn't want to go to the library, Mayor Mayor had put up a sign that read, 'closed for renovations.'
When the pony with the indistinct cutie mark barreled his way past this, Mayor Mayor came up with a better idea and wrote another sign. This one read: 'The building is on fire, run away!' This sign was so effective it managed to fool the strange pony with the indistinct cutie mark, who didn't bother her until after the rain made the sign soggy and unreadable. It also managed to fool the pegasi weather patrol fire brigade, who dumped a large rain cloud on the building to put out the fire. This made the roof leak even worse, and soaked Mayor Mayor and almost all of the books in the library.
The roof of the library always leaked, even when it was sunny outside and not a cloud in the sky. Back in the day when a droplet of water would land on her head, she would go outside and look to see if some pegasus was playing pranks on her, but nowadays she couldn't be bothered. She waited in the library and let the rhythmic drops of water from nowhere drop on her head. It was certain at some point to drive her completely mad. In order to stay sane, she kept reminding herself how much she hated almonds. She knew the instant she felt any sort of affection or appetite for the food, she'd have to see a psychiatrist immediately.
If the water droplets didn't drive her mad, the strange pony with the indistinct cutie mark would. He or she would often barrel in during the middle of the afternoon, just as Mayor Mayor was beginning to relax. It was hard to tell if the strange pony with the indistinct cutie mark was a stallion or a mare. Its features were androgynous, its cutie mark was several indistinct shapes that were almost real ones. There was almost a triangle, but not quite, almost a circle, but it was a little off, and so on and so on. It was as though a demented child had taken a crayon to the pony's flank and failed at drawing all the shapes it knew.
"A glocklim!" The pony with the indistinct cutie mark shouted.
"What?" Asked Mayor Mayor. "Glocklim?"
"I need a glocklim," the pony with the indistinct mark said.
"We don't have any books or authors with that name on file," Mayor Mayor said, "I told you that last time."
"It's not a book! I need a glocklim. Don't you have one?" The pony with the indistinct cutie mark was pleading with her, frustration and need all mixed up in its features. Mayor Mayor wanted to help him or her, she just didn't know how.
"What's a glocklim, do you mean a clock-" Mayor Mayor paused to think, she couldn't think of many things that could sound like glocklim. "-lens?
"No! A glocklim! Every library should have a glocklim!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Mayor Mayor confessed.
The pony with the indistinct cutie mark threw up his or her hooves and let out a long frustrated moan. It stomped off, slamming the rickety door behind it, giving up until the next day where the entire exchange would happen again. Mayor Mayor wished she could do something to help him or her, but nobody she asked knew what a glocklim was. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn't just hallucinating the whole thing.
The problem of the pony with the strange cutie mark and the fire brigade was solved when the vandal finally got around to writing CONDEMNED over the top of Mayor Mayor's sign. Neither showed up to bother her ever again after that.
2.
The vandal was one of the numerous problems that faced Ponyville that would've been a hot button issue in the election if anyone had known it was going on. One of the few people who did know it was going on was Granny Smith, who had many connections in the town that kept her informed of community developments. After learning that Mayor Mayor was running for mayor, Granny Smith swore to do everything in her power to stop Mayor Mayor from being elected.
"Mayor Strawpony has been a darn good mayor to Ponyville," Granny Smith told her family, who were all given explicit instructions to vote for Mayor Strawpony if things came to that. "I don't agree with some young upstart tryin' to sneak into the job."
In truth, Granny Smith had her own, completely non-nefarious reasons for wanting Strawpony to remain the mayor. In order to destroy Mayor Mayor and prevent her from becoming the mayor, she first went about trying to figure out what could drive a person to want to become the mayor of Ponyville.
First things first, she went to see Mayor Mayor herself at the library. Granny Smith was more spry in those days, but her gait was still slow, and her hip often hurt when she went long distances. The library was closed though, and a sign claimed that it was on fire. Mayor Mayor was still in hiding because she'd bleached her hair white by accident. Granny Smith hadn't been born yesterday, she didn't see any smoke and suspected foul play right away. She knocked on the door. No one answered
"I know you're in there," she said. When no one answered again, Granny Smith decided to take matters into her own hooves and show her what even an old Apple could do. She bucked the door open, and immediately regretted it, howling in pain as her hip, worn from years of bucking apple trees, protested at such strenuous abuse.
No one was inside the library. Mayor Mayor was at the post office, head wrapped in a bonnet and her tail hidden under a cape. She was being paid to forge and modify shipping documents for the mailponies so that their late night shipments to the town hall wouldn't be found out about. Everybody knew about the late night shipments to the town hall because Mr. McFeely, the mailpony in charge, kept bumping into everyone at night.
"She's running for mayor?" Quill Filing was overjoyed to hear the news. His new companion was also overjoyed to learn about it, but she wouldn't stop eating almonds long enough to say so.
"That's what I said," Granny Smith said, she'd had to rest for a few hours after bucking open the library door. Her hip still twanged in protest, but this matter was important to the survival of Ponyville, the community she'd practically founded. "Do you reckon you know why?"
Quill Filing was surprised that anyone even had to ask. He looked as his hoof, as if making sure he was well groomed. Perhaps he expected to play some pivotal part in the upcoming campaign. "Why, it's her destiny of course. One just doesn't have the name Mayor Mayor by accident you know."
Granny Smith gave the mad pony a skeptical look. She didn't believe in monikerology. For one thing, she was certain that not one of the Apple family was ever effected by such nonsense. For another, it sounded like something Madam Pie would believe in. Granny Smith disapproved of Madam Pie, and wanted nothing to do with her flim flam philosophies. One of Granny Smith's few remaining ambitions in life was outliving Madam Pie. Her other ambition was to destroy Mayor Mayor, which took precedence.
"Mayor Mayor?" Asked Carrot Cake, who was busy trying to run a fledgling business. "I haven't seen her in years. Didn't she move to Canterlot? Honey-bun, didn't Mayor Mayor move to Canterlot? I remember we invited her to the wedding, but she didn't attend."
Cup O'Sugar, now Cup Cake, finished shoving a fresh batch of her new namesake into an oven. She turned to regard her husband and the matron Apple, her face was covered in flour. "Let me think. Well, yes, she sent a card wishing us well, but saying she was going to Canterlot. I don't remember why."
"There you go, moved to Canterlot. Can I interest you in a cupcake?"
After Granny Smith bought a dozen cupcakes from Sugarcube corner, she checked with Davenport. Davenport didn't know much more then the Cakes, he did however, have a sofa that was just right for Granny Smith. He even let her sit in it and eat a cupcake, taking a load off her weary hooves and letting her smarting hip rest. He did mention that he knew Mayor Mayor was working at the library, but he'd never seen her there because he bought all his books brand new.
Granny Smith didn't buy a sofa. Celestia's sun was beginning to droop when she came to her final destination. The house that belonged to Riches was large, fenced, and grandiose. She disapproved of the Riches style of living, but by allowing them to handle all the selling of the bulk quantity of Sweet Apple Acres product, she was able to allow her family to continue to live the simple, settler life that she approved of. It was a natural alliance.
In truth, it was the Riches who were beholden to the Apples. If the product dried up, the Riches would crumble back into poverty within a generation.
3.
It didn't take long at all for Granny Smith to convince Filthy Rich to agree to finance Mayor Strawpony's campaign. All the same, the sun had set by the time she left. The offer had been extended for her to stay the night, but she turned it down. The idea of sleeping in gaudy silk sheets made her fur crawl along her wrinkles.
A lazy darkness had settled around Ponyville, and anyone else would be paranoid of bumping into the monsters of the everfree that might come out at night. Granny Smith was not, because she'd personally bucked many a monster of the everfree right in the jaw in her youth. None of those monsters ever came back for another licking. She was a little concerned about running into Madam Pie, but that had more to do with dislike then fear.
Granny Smith didn't run into a monster or Madam Pie on her way back to Sweet Apple Acres. Instead she ran into McFeely, who bumped into her and dropped the large crate he was helping to carry on his young apprentice, who yelped in audible pain.
For a moment they just stared at each other, and then Granny Smith blinked. "What're..."
"Ooo! I am Madam Pie! I have bumped into you to scare you! Oooo! Run away! Ooo!" McFeely said, shaking his front hooves at her as if casting a curse.
"My eyes ain't so old as that. I can see you right there. You're the mailpony," Granny smith said.
McFeely had assumed since that he couldn't see anyone distinctly, nobody could see him. His clever plan to pretend to be Madam Pie to the people he inevitably bumped into rested on that idea. Since Granny Smith could see him, this situation presented a problem. He paused in his hoof shaking for a moment to try to figure out how to solve it. A clever idea occurred to him. "I am Madam Pie! I transformed into the mailpony to confuse and frighten you! Run away!"
Granny Smith walked away, having used up her patience for nonsense earlier in the day.
Relieved that had worked, McFeely set his hooves down. It might have been extra awkward if he'd run into Madam Pie herself. He let the tension blow out in a deep exhale. He was especially relieved it hadn't been that creepy vandal who'd accosted him. Every once in awhile they'd bump into each other, and the vandal would stare at him with wild, bloodshot eyes.
"In a couple hours," the vandal would mutter, over and over. "In a couple hours."
McFeely shuddered at the memory. No, he didn't enjoy the idea of running into the vandal again at all. He looked at the clock tower to catch the time, since he had a nagging feeling he was forgetting something. He couldn't see the hands, so he took off his thick round glasses, rubbed them, then looked again. He still couldn't see the hands. There was something important he was forgetting. Very important.
"H-help."
Oh, yeah, that was it.
4.
With the money she'd earned from forging documents for the mailponies, Mayor Mayor finally had enough for a trip to Manehattan. Manehatten was the place for her, where she'd finally get a job at a respectable library and live a cosmopolitan life. She'd even bleached her hair in preparation. There was only one problem: her hair had gone white instead of blonde.
For a long time she hid in the library, embarrassed by the flowing white locks that poofed from her head. She wasn't sure it was an improvement from pink. It clashed less, but it made her seem older. Her work in the mailroom to hide the packages of whatever the mailponies were sending to town hall at night was done with her hair hidden quite well. Nobody ever asked why she'd taken to wearing clothes and hats, but it was just because nobody cared.
With her bits beginning to build, and her patience with Ponyville beginning to wane, she began to consider the possibilities of white hair. Perhaps she was looking at it all the wrong way. Mayor Mayor looked ridiculous with white hair, but she was not going to be Mayor Mayor in Manehattan. No, she would move on and become a whole new pony, one far better then the child of an almond grubbing nut. Someone who hadn't excused her mother from the scene just for having the temerity to be born. Someone important, someone intelligent, someone who had lots of friends.
She would be Scroll Binding, and Scroll Binding wouldn't look ridiculous with white hair. Mayor Mayor looked at her mirror and imagined herself as Scroll Binding. Scroll Binding looked mature and wise. She looked like the old librarian.
Mayor Mayor was happy with herself, and though she wore her bonnet and cape while doing so, she booked the train for Manehattan the next day.
Manehattan Library, unlike the one in Canterlot, did background checks on the ponies applying to become librarians. They found out that Scroll Binding didn't exist, and Mayor Mayor was nobody important.
She was back in Ponyville a week later.
1.
By the time Mayor Mayor got back from Manehattan she was desperate enough to see Madam Pie. There seemed to be ever growing chasm between Mayor Mayor and her dream, and she needed some bad advice. The list of large city libraries that had kicked her out was growing at an alarming rate, and Ponyville's library had crumbled into rubble during the protest against her.
Madam Pie's tent was large, squat, and gloomy. It dominated a corner of the town square with its absurd, gaudy decorations. Gilded chains draped down the tent flaps, and standards with the ever-watchful eye of the mare on the moon atop them marked the path that lead to the tent's entrance. Everyone who had problems in Ponyville inevitably went to Madam Pie, excluding Granny Smith, Madam Pie's best friend who hated her. Granny Smith hated Madam Pie because she was a lunatic, and also because she worshiped the ancient moon goddess Luna, of whom nobody in Ponyville had ever heard.
Ponies went to Madam Pie because she gave the best worst advice in all of Equestria. Behind her mumbo-jumbo she was actually a very shrewd and wise woman with a good business sense, or so everybody assumed. When faced with impossible problems, ponies inevitably had to go through the dreaded necessity of getting advice. If a pony got advice from someone reliable, they might find that they were the cause of their own problems. Since nobody wanted to believe they were the cause of their own problems, it was much easier to get advice from Madam Pie. A potion or a charm would never bruise the ego, and when Madam Pie's advice failed like all advice does, all anyone lost out on was a few bits. Nobody actually believed in Madam Pie's mumbo-jumbo except for Quill Filing and Mayor Mayor.
Mayor Mayor told herself that she was also a very shrewd and wise woman. She was a mare of science, and didn't believe in moon goddesses or nightmares or even that Celestia was anything more than an old and powerful wizard. All the same, she believed in Madam Pie, because the old woman scared her half to death.
"Boo!" Madam Pie had said.
Mayor Mayor, still a filly, had wandered home late from the library one evening. She jumped a mile and whirled around to see Madam Pie's ancient and folded face glowing in the moonlight. Her features had the texture of rumpled paper as her mouth turned into a demented grin. Madam Pie loved to laugh.
Mayor Mayor had run away before the old woman could utter another word. She'd cowered in her room that night, her mind filled with the notion that the old mare had afflicted her with some secret and terrible curse. Time washed away the terror, but the fear of Madam Pie remained, a deep stripe of strong, pulsating fear and superstition beneath Mayor Mayor's rational exterior.
As such it was with some trepidation that Mayor Mayor entered Madam Pie's tent. The tent was musty and warm, the firefly lamps gave off a dim, finicky light, causing shadows to flicker and move. Odd art pieces littered the entrance, and the many eyes of the mare on the moon stared at her, painted on more than one surface. Mayor Mayor walked as though she were entering a sleeping manticore's den. In fact, her hoofsteps went unheard, it was her breathing, loud and sharp, that gave her away.
"Come in, come in," said the voice of the medium, "come in and let Madam Pie cure what ails you."
Mayor Mayor steeled herself and forced her way into the main body of the tent. There was nothing that could have prepared her for the truly bizarre sight that she was about to experience, but she did her best.
Madam Pie smiled up at Mayor Mayor from the table. The room was cluttered with lit candles and other gaudy decorations. On the table sat a pot of tea and two cups, one already filled.
"Would you like some tea?" Madam Pie asked. She was old. Her hooves quaked a little with age and arthritis. Her smile was pleasant and without malice. The turban that sat atop her dainty head failed to hide the bushels of curly white hair beneath. She was pleasantly ridiculous, and Mayor Mayor stared and wondered if this might all be a trick.
"Sit down, dearie, something's troubling you. Well, let old Madam Pinkie sort it out, come, come."
Mayor Mayor cleared her throat and tried to force her rapid heartbeat to calm itself. "Yes, um, I'd like some tea. Thanks."
She sat as the old woman poured tea in the other cup. It occurred to her that it might be the same cup that everyone else who came to see her drank out of, but it was too late now. It would be impolite to refuse a drink after she asked for it. No matter how much Mayor Mayor squirmed, there was no escaping this any longer. The only person who could help her was Madam Pie, of that she was certain. The tea was tepid and bitter. Mayor Mayor took a polite sip and then put it back down, keeping herself from making a face.
"So, dearie, what seems to be the trouble?" Madam Pie asked.
"Well." Now that she was actually here, it was hard to put in a way that didn't sound ridiculous. The trouble at the moment seemed to be that the tip of her tongue was busy trying tie itself into a loopty-loop.
"Come now dearie, you can trust old Madam Pie."
"I-"
"Well, if you're going to be that way, let me consult the spirits and see if I can divine your trouble," Madam Pie raised her front hooves to her head, closed her eyes, and began to hum. She continued for several moments, muttering to herself before she came to a conclusion. "Yes, yes, no. Ah, I see. Your grandchildren. You're frightened for your-"
"I'm not old!" Mayor Mayor snapped.
Madam Pie opened a single eye, her wrinkled eyelids giving the impression of some ancient mausoleum opening. "None of us are, dearie, we're all young in spirit."
"No! I mean my hair, it's just bleached! I'm middle aged. I'm not old." Mayor Mayor explained.
"Oh," Madam Pie said, as her other eye opened and her hooves lowered back to the floor, "What is it then? Marriage troubles?"
"I need-"
"Yes?"
"I need to-"
"Yes?"
"I need to be someone else. Anyone else."
Madam Pie broke into a grin. "Oh, well that's easy."
"What? Really?"
"Yes," Madam Pie said, "here, you can be me."
In one swift and well practiced motion, Madam Pie pulled off her turban and slammed it down on Mayor Mayor's head. Mayor Mayor jumped back, afraid that this was part of some bizarre body-stealing ritual of magic and that Madam Pie was about to possess her. She was ready to bolt when she noticed there was no ritualistic chanting, just Madam Pie looking up at her with expectant eyes. Mayor Mayor waited, just in case it wasn't a trap.
"Oh, wait, I made a mistake, silly old me." Madam Pie said, "I forgot, if you're me, who will I be? There can't be two of me, that would be silly. I guess this means I'll have to be you. Hold on a moment."
She straightened herself up and placed her front hooves together, giving her best attempt at looking pathetic and bedraggled. "Madam Pie! I need to be someone else! Anyone else. Please, help me!"
Mayor Mayor stared at the madwoman, her jaw worked at words but nothing came out, just empty vowels of shock, like spittle.
"Please, I need to be someone else, Madam Pie!" Madam Pie said, as she tried her best to be Mayor Mayor.
"I can't be you!" Mayor Mayor snapped. "I don't know anything about being a medium!"
"You mean you can't help me?"
Mayor Mayor slammed her hooves on the table. "Of course I can't!"
"Oh, I guess I'll just be going then." Madam Pie began to slink out of the hut, defeated.
"Wait! No!" Mayor Mayor chased her down, " I don't want to be you! Here, take yourself back!"
The motion Mayor Mayor used was less practiced, and the turban got a little unwound when she slammed it on Madam Pie's head. They made their way back to the table and took up their respective positions again. There was quiet as Mayor Mayor sulked over nearly losing her identity to an old lunatic.
"So, you do want to be someone specific," Madam Pie said.
Mayor Mayor glared at her. "I want to be Scroll Binding, Librarian."
"Okay, dearie," Madam Pie was smiling again, "you're Scroll Binding, Librarian."
"That's not how it works!"
Madam Pie was the picture of innocence. "Why not?"
Mayor Mayor lapsed into frustrated silence. This wasn't how she imagined this going at all. Then again, she'd imagined it involving curses and monsters, so this was still better than that. It was just frustrating to be so close and yet so far from her goal. "It just doesn't, okay? I tried it. It didn't work."
"Why not?" Madam Pie asked. "You're the librarian, aren't you?"
"I want to be someone else somewhere else, and I need to be someone else first in order to get away. Me, I just keep screwing up being someone else and end up right back here."
Madam Pie's ears perked up, a sign that she was finally becoming interested. "Who would you like to be like? Do you have someone you admire?"
"The old librarian."
"Oh, I remember her. We knew each other when the town was still young. Her, me and the Apple girl." For a moment, Madam Pie's gaze turned inward and she seemed to be revelling in the memory. Then she paused as something occurred to her. "But girl, how can you be her and not be here? She loved this town. Let's see, she loved the library, the way it was like it was always raining inside. She loved the dusty old roads and the old oak tree. I remember when she wouldn't let Pilgrim Heart tear it down. Nobody ever stood up to Pilgrim Heart but her and the Apple girl."
There was an awkward silence, and Mayor Mayor looked away from Madam Pie. Her eyes locked on the floor as she thought about what to say next.
"I don't have to have everything of hers do I? Just the good parts," Mayor Mayor said.
It was at this point that Madam Pie realized there was nothing she could do to actually help Mayor Mayor. It was disappointing, because Madam Pie couldn't actually help most of her clientele, even the ones she wanted to help. She thought there was a ray of hope here, but Mayor Mayor clearly wasn't interested in rays of hope, she probably pulled the curtains closed whenever they dared to shine in.
"Very well, I have just the thing for you," Madam Pie lied. She turned and rummaged through the many piles of junk in the room. She produced a small flask filled with a transparent liquid, "Drink it the whole thing before bedtime and you will wake up as the very paragon of library matrons. They'll practically beg you to run any library you like."
"Really?" Mayor Mayor asked, wide-eyed and wary.
"Really."
Mayor Mayor left satisfied. Madam Pie was dissatisfied but had a fresh set of bits to soothe her conscience. The flask, like all of Madam Pie's potions, magic, and mumbo-jumbo, wouldn't work. It was actually just water from one of Ponyville's numerous fountains, but Mayor Mayor hadn't asked, and Madam Pie didn't tell.
2.
After Madam Pie's potion failed to work, there was only one recourse left for Mayor Mayor. She needed to see the mayor about getting the library rebuilt and getting herself removed from the ballot in the upcoming election. Nobody had seen Strawpony (except for his assistants) in a long time, but nobody really paid it much heed. After all, what did a mayor do but cut ribbons and make speeches? As it turned out, just about anyone could cut ribbons, and speeches really weren't that important to country folk like the ones who resided in Ponyville.
The summer was rolling in, and the heat of the day pounded down on Mayor Mayor. The gazebo was little shelter, and she knew she'd be run off by the Apples land once they figured out she was sleeping there and stealing their apples. She was too proud to go home to her father, and more than a little wary of having to go back to work on the farm. It hadn't occurred to her yet that she was still drawing pay for her library work, despite the fact that there wasn't a library anymore.
Town hall was beginning to crumble. Flitters of paint chips fell like leaves in an autumn breeze. Support columns were snapped and others were buckling. The door had CONTEMNED written on it, then marked out, and then CONDEMNED written below it. The local drunk, Solid Wall, was collapsed outside the door. He'd decided to make sure nobody entered the disintegrating building but the mayor's assistant, who he hated and in his weakest moments wanted dead. The only problem was that he spent almost all his time drinking, and heavily, so that he was unconscious and unable to stop her when Mayor Mayor went inside to confront Strawpony.
Inside, the configuration of the office that separated the doors from the rest of town hall reminded Mayor Mayor of Madam Pie's tent. Instead of eyes and candles it was socks and bowls of sweets. A twinge of something horrible ran up Mayor Mayor's spine, a cold sensation of creeping realization. She'd seen something like this before.
Sitting behind the desk that barred the rest of Ponyville from town hall was a mint green colored earth pony with purple hair, who didn't even bother to look at Mayor Mayor when she entered.
"The mayor will be available in a couple hours," the assistant said, in an automatic drone.
"You!" Mayor Mayor cried.
1.
The protest at the library consisted of half a dozen retirement age ponies. They milled about outside the library, and a few even sat in lawn chairs. There was a halfhearted sign set up that stated 'Support Mayor Stra.' Granny Smith provided apple juice and sweet tea as refreshments. She smiled and thanked everybody for showing up. Nobody in town even bothered to look twice at the event, because nobody in town ever wanted to look at the library: the building was a tremendous eye sore.
All in all, it was the most pathetic protest Mayor Mayor had ever seen. She was curious but not threatened by the group hanging around the library, it was public property after all. Without knowing the protest was about her, she trotted right up to the group. They didn't recognize her as their antagonist, none of them had ever been in the library during her tenure as Ponyville librarian.
The group paid her no heed, but Granny Smith smelled relatively fresh blood in the form of the only mildly old looking librarian. She popped right up beside Mayor Mayor, all howdy-doody's and simple country hospitality. Free apple juice and sweet tea, just please, sign our petition to get the local librarian removed from the ballot in the upcoming mayoral election.
"There's a new librarian?" Mayor Mayor was shocked and alarmed to learn that she'd been replaced during her short trip to Manehattan, from which she'd just returned.
Since Mayor Mayor looked about two decades older then she actually was, thanks to her bleached white hair and stodgy manner of dress, Granny Smith assumed that she was referring to the librarian who'd replaced the old librarian, namely Mayor Mayor.
"Yep, and she's running for mayor. Wants to undo all the proud traditions of Ponyville and plans to raise taxes, the good-fer-nothin'-" The rest of Granny Smith's tirade was lost in the indistinct rumblings of her Ponyville drawl.
"Well!" Mayor Mayor managed. This was a betrayal of the highest caliber, and she signed the petition without any further prodding. She joined the protest against herself readily and took sweet tea and chatted with the ponies who didn't know that they already hated her and wanted her gone. The fragile and shaky grip of the matron Apple as she poured more sweet tea caused Mayor Mayor's cup to overfill, spilling some of the precious liquid on the ground.
It took some time for Granny Smith to realize that the enemy was in their midst. It was just like how Wintergreen had failed completely to recognize Mayor Mayor, the girl who's career she'd ruined for no apparent reason, other then perhaps for a lark.
"You!" Wintergreen cried, in reciprocation of Mayor Mayor's exclamation. "Who're you again?"
The office slipped into a tense silence, as Mayor Mayor glared at Wintergreen, the mayor's assistant, and Wintergreen looked back at her in an opaque lack of recognition. Mayor Mayor wasn't buying it: this was the pony who'd singularly ruined her life. There was no way that her being here was a coincidence. Clearly, Wintergreen was out to get her. Perhaps she'd been following her all along, somehow slipping into the ranks of various libraries to deny her applications.
"You! You followed me here! You're behind all of this, aren't you?" Mayor Mayor slammed front her hooves on Wintergreen's desk. "You put me in the election, didn't you?"
Despite the sharp reminder of the madwoman who she'd once interviewed, Wintergreen still didn't recognize Mayor Mayor. She did however, seem to show some glint of understanding at the mention of the election. "Oh, oh. You're that Mayor girl. The one with the funny name. Yes, I know of you."
"Then you admit it!" Mayor Mayor cried, a vicious sort of pleasure running through her as she finally had someone to blame for her failure. Someone she could take it all out on. "You were behind everything!"
"Your addition was caused by a clerical error," Wintergreen had regained her composure, and was shelling herself back behind cold formality.
"And who was the clerk who committed the error?"
There was a beat, and it was clear that Mayor Mayor had won a minor victory over Wintergreen. The green pony looked away, "I was."
"Ah-hah!" Mayor Mayor really had her now. Everything was coming together. Now she could unravel this whole conspiracy against her and finally earn her deserved spot as the head librarian of the Canterlot library. "You were behind everything! Admit it! Admit it!"
"Well, I did mess up and add your name to the election, I wasn't paying attention while I was writing and, well, the first mayor I wrote didn't look quite neat enough, so I tried again. That one didn't look good either, I'm kind of clumsy, even with a pen. I had it by the third one but-"
"- But what about my job?"
"What about it? You're still the librarian."
"Canterlot. You. Me." Mayor Mayor felt her body shake with strange convulsions. Her chest was taut, her heart thundering within her ears. The person most responsible for her sorry state was right in front of her and didn't even recognize her. Every failure and humiliation Mayor Mayor experienced since returning to Canterlot could be laid at Wintergreen's hooves, and the other pony didn't even care that she existed. It was all too much. The girl hadn't recognized her, just as the protesters hadn't recognized her up until she'd tried to walk right into the library. It was her idea to give whoever had replaced her a piece of her mind.
It was about that time that Granny Smith actually looked at the petition Mayor Mayor had signed and saw her name. Mayor Mayor hadn't had the guile or presence of mind to sign her name as Scroll Binding.
"You!" Granny Smith cried. "You're the new librarian, aren't you?"
Mayor Mayor dropped her sweet tea and froze in mid-step. Sudden realization crept up her back. She could feel a dozen elderly eyes staring at her backside with level hatred. She stood stock still, hoping that if she didn't move, their poor elderly eyesight would fail them and they would be unable to see her.
Granny Smith did see her and was properly steamed. Not only had the librarian snuck past them, but she'd done so while partaking in their hospitality under false pretences. "She's the librarian! She's the next Pilgrim Heart!"
The matron Apple hadn't said to get her, but she might as well have, evoking the memory of the tyrannical mayor in the presence of those who'd lived through her reign. The pathetic protest devolved into a pathetic mob. There is nothing more terrifying in life then a gang of old ponies creaking up on you at the breakneck speed of a few paces per minute. Mayor Mayor bolted, deciding to skip the library and just put as much ground between herself and the protestors.
The protestors gave as much chase as they could, which was not much. By the time they made it the few yards to the library, they were all winded. Their canes and walkers weren't supplying enough support, so the turned to the closest thing they had to prop themselves up against: the library. The old unfortunate hut groaned under their collective weights. The wood was all rotted from the roof that leaked constantly, even when it wasn't raining. It had survived merely by no one bothering to touch it much, but the abuse of half a dozen ponies leaning against it was too much. The building lurched backwards, teetered in on itself for a few seconds, and then finally crumbled into rubble, a cloud of paper and dust rising from its funereal pile.
The protestors, for their part, tumbled forward in their attempt to get away from the falling building. Their old bodies failing them, they were unable to get back up, much less give further chase. The protest ended in failure.
Mayor Mayor returned later that evening, after the emergency medical teams and relatives had finished collecting their elderly. There she discovered she had no home to run back to, and nowhere to run and hide in anymore.
2.
Running and hiding was exactly what Mayor Mayor wanted to do after she learned that Wintergreen was the mayor's assistant. Her breath was ragged, her thoughts wild and incoherent. They jumped from one thing to the next, trying to form connections between Wintergreen and all that had happened. Where did the green earth pony lurk in her life? Had she always been there, just behind the scenes? These were paranoid thoughts, crazy thoughts, she was probably going to start craving almonds. She had to focus, she had to focus on what was really important.
Wintergreen, who was all too used to ponies going nuts around her, ignored Mayor Mayor. She looked back down at her catalogue. A new one had just arrived, and there were plenty of new socks to look at and order. She didn't have time to deal with whatever delusions of some prior relationship this madmare had between them in Canterlot.
"I have to see the mayor," Mayor Mayor said, at last.
It didn't take long for Wintergreen to explain with terse and automatic boredom that the mayor could not, and would not be disturbed for at least a few hours more. Not willing to accept this as an answer, Mayor Mayor barrelled past her and tried to open the door leading out of the annex and into town hall. It was pointless, the door was locked. Mayor Mayor slammed her hooves against the door in a repeated, fruitless, frustrated flurry. She knew it wouldn't open the door. It didn't matter.
The page turned on the catalogue as Wintergreen waited out the storm. This wasn't the first time she'd seen a pony cracked up around her, and it wouldn't be the last. "It's pointless, the mayor doesn't see anypony. Ever. He's a recluse."
The ruckus of Mayor Mayor's hooves died down gradually, as she ran out of breath and hate. She rested her head against the door, the desperation leaking out of her and leaving empty numbness in its wake. "I need to see the mayor. I need to get off the ballot. I need to tell him that the library is gone."
Wintergreen looked up with sudden interest, her catalogue forgotten for the moment. "The library is gone?"
Mayor Mayor nodded, her head sunk down the door as she did. Her mane was wild from sleeping beneath the gazebo. She really didn't have anywhere else to go now. There was nothing left to do but throw herself before the mercy of Wintergreen.
Wintergreen was overjoyed to hear the news. "This is great! You're fired!"
"What!?" Mayor Mayor whirled around in surprise and alarm. "You can't just decide that!"
"I can and I did," Wintergreen shrugged, going back to her catalogue. Not having to pay a librarian would open whole new vistas in the town budget, and she was eager to start applying this newfound knowledge. "I'm certain the mayor will agree. What's the point of paying a librarian if there's no library?"
Time seemed to stop for Mayor Mayor, as she watched with mounting horror as Wintergreen casually destroyed her everything once again. There was nothing left. She had nothing. She was nothing, not even a librarian anymore.
"I will destroy you." Mayor Mayor informed Wintergreen, for the second time in her life. This time she actually meant it.
Wintergreen didn't even look up to consider the threat. She wasn't even paying attention. "Yeah, okay."
3.
In truth, Mayor Mayor didn't have to raise a hoof to destroy Wintergreen, because Wintergreen was so good at destroying herself. In many ways the two ponies were similar. Wintergreen was a grand administrative assistant who'd started at the top and worked her way down. She'd been fired from every job she ever had. Her proudest achievement was being fired by Celestia herself.
During her higher education she'd had an internship at the palace, where she'd worked as part of Celestia's staff. Wintergreen was no fool, and knew that the real job of any good administrative assistant was to keep everyone away from important people. Therefore she lost, destroyed, and otherwise got rid of any correspondence the Princess wouldn't want. Wintergreen was fired after she'd started losing, destroying and otherwise getting rid of the correspondence that the Princess did want. Still, being fired by the Princess herself was high praise, and Wintergreen had her choice of jobs afterward. Eventually she ended up at the royal library, where she was fired for not hiring Mayor Mayor. From there, she lost dozen of jobs, until there was nowhere left to go but Ponyville. Ponyville was the only place where there was no one to fire her, since Mayor Strawpony never fired anyone. As such she kept her job, but it was only a matter of time before this too blew up in her face.
Town hall was crumbling around her, soon it would collapse and let her secret out for everyone to see. Everyone knew about the shipments to town hall at night, all of which had been arranged by Wintergreen. Every misappropriate fund, every abuse of power and every stolen dollar would fall squarely on her shoulders. The whole thing would come crashing down that much sooner if Mayor Mayor was elected and decided to do something about the renegade assistant, which she most certainly would.
It didn't help that it looked like Mayor Mayor was going to be elected through no fault of her own. For one thing, Quill Filing was doing a much better job of campaigning for Mayor Mayor than Granny Smith was doing for Strawpony. Since Strawpony continued his tried and true practice of doing absolutely nothing, and Mayor Mayor told anyone who asked that she didn't want the job, it fell to their irrational supporters to campaign in their absence.
"Mayor Mayor promises that if elected, there will be a drastic reduction in almonds in Ponyville," Quill Filing promised. It was easy to make this promise because he was already starting to feel less passionate about almonds. These days he could hardly recall his wife's face when she told him of her dream of becoming a nut farmer. It no longer bothered him that there might not be enough almonds in Ponyville for anyone who might want one. In fact, he was starting to consider going back into taxes once Mayor Mayor was elected. He could help a great deal with Mayor Mayor's budget, and make certain she was successful; Celestia knew she was too dense to succeed on her own. Besides him, his changeling companion smiled and nodded at everything he said, and scarfed down more almonds.
(Nobody had noticed that his companion was the spitting image of his departed wife. None of her relatives lived in Ponyville, having been chased off by Quill Filing's madness, and Mayor Mayor had never seen her mother.)
Granny Smith in comparison had to take regular breaks to rest her hip, and could not quite explain why Strawpony deserved to be elected. 'He's not Pilgrim Heart' failed to resonate with everyone who didn't know that Pilgrim Heart was anything but a statue. The withering weight of her eternal stone gaze had long ceased to have any effect. Years of ineffectual government had made everyone forget. Granny Smith was aghast, and so would've been Pilgrim Heart, who had enjoyed the terror she inspired and erected the statue in the hope of terrifying future generations. Pilgrim Heart was gone, and while her works remained her legacy was forgotten.
It didn't help that Granny Smith and her supporters were old. No one listened to old people, not even other old people. Granny Smith's campaign verged on collapse, because everyone involved thought they knew what they were doing better than everyone else, even when they didn't. Everyone did every ineffective thing they wanted, and nobody listened.
Madam Pie made grim predictions of a future filled with disaster if Mayor Mayor was elected, which failed to have any effect. Incidentally, this prediction was the one and only time Madam Pie's predictions were correct. Her other predictions, such as an uprising by the sheep in the near future, failed to materialize.
McFeely distributed pro-Mayor Mayor leaflets to the wrong addresses. He thought he was distributing leaflets supporting Strawpony. Quill Filing had swapped the leaflets when McFeely wasn't looking, and since McFeely couldn't see the leaflets distinctly, he never noticed. Granny Smith's orders to stop distributing the leaflets fell on deaf ears.
With election day looming, it fell to Wintergreen to salvage the situation and save herself and Mayor Strawpony's campaign. In order to manage it, she'd have to use every trick she had at her disposal. Wintergreen didn't have many tricks. Her special talent was being sickeningly sweet (a skill she'd grown sick of), and the only thing she was good at was being an administrative assistant, which basically meant doing busy, unimportant work that anyone could do.
4.
Wintergreen's solution to the problem of Mayor Mayor was elegant. It was simple: she held an debate before election day. The stage was the wide verandah that surrounded town hall, where Pilgrim Heart used to make her decrees. Ponies from all over town turned out to attend the debate, intrigued by the fact that something was actually happening in the usually quaint and boring town of Ponyville. Most hadn't heard of Mayor Mayor before this, and they were only dimly aware of Mayor Strawpony. Unbiased by prior political opinions, the debate was likely to decide the election, which was exactly according to Wintergreen's plan.
After triple checking that it was time for the debate to start, Mayor Mayor got on the verandah first. Strawpony had yet to show, but it didn't matter. Her message was short and to the point, and Strawpony could say whatever he wanted after she left. It didn't matter.
"Ladies and gentlecolts, please, lend me your ears," Mayor Mayor stated in a loud, clear voice, her inflection perfect for reaching across the large crowd, "What I need from all of you is simple: I don't want to be mayor, don't vote for me."
"Such modesty!" Quill Filling declared, trying to spur a murmur of agreement and support within the crowd. "Truly, a great leader must be a mare of modesty."
"Look at her! She's the very model of a mayor. Age, elegance, experience." Solid Wall agreed, spying an opportunity to get rid of Wintergreen and getting his warnings to someone who would listen to them.
"Oh, it's Mayor Mayor," Carrot Cake said, as he decided to throw his vote to his old friend, "I thought she moved to Canterlot."
Everything settled, Mayor Mayor began to climb down from the verandah, unaware of the damage she'd done in favor of her own election. It was then that Wintergreen rushed out from within town hall. The crowd was larger than expected, Wintergreen had expected to have to work through word of mouth, but this worked out even better.
"I'm sorry everypony, but the debate is cancelled," Wintergreen informed the crowd, "It seems Mayor Stawpony had to attend an emergency ribbon cutting at the new ward at Stinking Rich Memorial Hospital."
The disappointment was audible; there weren't many distractions in ponyville. The loss of a debate to argue over was felt sorely across the crowd. The ponies murmured and groaned amongst one another until Wintergreen stamped her hooves against the wooden floor of the verandah. The sound of her hooves stamping wasn't what got their attention, it was the sound of the entire building rumbling at the slight tremor.
"Hold on everypony," Wintergreen said, "There's something more. In place of the debate we will have a special guest. It is my great honor to introduce to all of you, the most wise and wonderful pony in all of Equestria, Princess Celestia!"
The town drew its collective breath, and Mayor Mayor paused on the final step off the verandah, unconvinced that she'd heard that correctly. Celestia? Here? Absurd. She almost started laughing at the very idea when the sound of flapping wings stopped her. She looked up.
Celestia's chariot swooped out of the sky like a deus ex machina. It landed right in front of Mayor Mayor, who fell backwards onto the steps and stared wide eyed as the royal figure marched past her. No one in Ponyville, excluding Wintergreen, had ever seen Celestia in person. All eyes were upon the Princess as she ascended the stairs. In Mayor Mayor's humble opinion Celestia was as majestic as the art of her promised, although a little shorter than expected.
The Princess exchanged smiles with Wintergreen, and then turned to address the crowd. "I endorse Strawpony."
With those three words, the election was over and done with. No one, not even Quill Filing, would vote for anyone but Strawpony now. Mayor Mayor sighed a breath of relief. Celestia gave a short speech about the importance of small, agricultural towns such as Ponyville, and what a joy it was to visit them on occasion. In particular she mentioned Ponyville's strong almond export market, and even made passing reference to Sweet Apple Acres. It was all a blur to Mayor Mayor, who escaped the verandah and took refuge under the old oak. With the election out of the way, she could get back to her plot to destroy Wintergreen.
Chapter 7: The Old Librarian
1.
The crowd dispersed at the conclusion of Celestia's speech with only a little prodding from the royal guard. Celestia stayed, speaking with Wintergreen for a few moments before descending back down the town hall steps. The field around town hall wasn't barren, many ponies still lingered, curious about the Princess but knowing better than to approach. The Princess herself walked undisturbed, looking over the town with curious eyes. She didn't find her target before her guards did, one came up to her and whispered something in her ear, then pointed to the old oak. Celestia nodded and moved towards the tree, still pretending to look as though she were just a tourist enjoying the sight of the country town.
Mayor Mayor for her part didn't even notice the Princess. She chewed at the snack she'd picked up and contemplated how best to carry out her vengeance. None of the hexes or curses she'd bought from Madam Pie had worked yet, and she couldn't figure out how to get the mare fired when she couldn't see the mayor. The Princess came up and sat beside her, wings folded against her sides. Mayor Mayor didn't pay the pony who sat beside her any heed. She just assumed it was some other Ponyville pony wanting to get out of the heat of the day, the idea that the Princess would want to talk to her was beyond her.
"Pardon me, but may I have some of that? I'm a little peckish," Princess Celestia asked.
Mayor Mayor started and stared at the mare besides her. The Princess smiled down at her with radiant warmth. Gaping, she offered the bag she'd been snacking out of without a word.
A few pieces levitated from the bag, and Celestia ate them one at a time, with small, elegant bites. After she finished, she looked up, ignoring Mayor Mayor's astonishment. She smiled at the large branches of the old oak. "This is a good tree. I like it. There's nothing like this in Canterlot."
"I see," Mayor Mayor muttered. She was at a loss for words. Why was the Princess here? Why was she sitting next to her? Would it be imprudent to ask? How did one talk to a princess? She'd read books with princesses in them, but sitting next to one was another matter entirely. "I uh, guess I should thank you, your highness?"
"What for? Is this your tree?"
"No, no, of course not," There was a lot of uncertainty and nerves in Mayor Mayor's voice, the more she failed to clamp down on it, the more apparent it became. "I uh, I mean for endorsing Mayor Strawpony."
"Oh? Why do you have to thank me for that? It was a favor for a subject of mine, nothing more." Celestia's eyes were on her now, and Mayor Mayor tried to shrink into herself to escape from the heavy gaze of the nation's leader. It didn't work.
"Well, I really, really, really don't want to be mayor, you see. I was added to the ballot by accident, but since you endorsed Strawpony, there's no chance I'll become mayor... right?"
Celestia's face was grave. "My little pony, with an attitude like that, I'm afraid you're destined to become a mayor."
"What?"
"You hate the idea of becoming mayor, right?"
"Of course!"
"You want nothing to do government or administration whatsoever?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
"You brood over the possibility over becoming a mayor. You wonder why any sane person would want to be a mayor."
Mayor Mayor was overjoyed. The Princess understood her completely, and would soon correct her erroneous statement about her destiny. It was clear that anyone who hated the idea of being a mayor that much could never become one.
Celestia didn't correct herself, she just nodded and kept her grave, knowing expression. "Then I'm afraid you're doomed. You'll be a mayor."
"What? Why?"
"Everyone becomes what they hate, eventually."
There was only one hitch, and there it was plain as day. The hitch was simple, really: what one obsessed and brooded over with hateful intent inevitably dominated one's life. It was why Madam Pie had a secret shrine to Celestia hidden in the back of her hut, it was why Granny Smith, who'd made it her mission in life to keep Ponyville free from tyranny ruled the community with an iron hoof, it was why Davenport of Davenport Quills and Sofas secretly kept a pen in his desk and only kept loveseats in his own home, and it was why Mayor Mayor was doomed to become a mayor.
It all was quite simple really, Celestia explained, take herself as an example: she wanted nothing more than to be just a regular pony. She hated the pomp and ceremony that surrounded and restricted her. Yet the more she obsessed about it, the more she seemed to struggle against it, the more it consumed her life. Making rules against ceremony just created new ceremonies against the typical ceremonies, and Celestia despaired for ever having a moment being normal.
"Of course, do you know what the real horrible truth is?"
Mayor Mayor shook her head.
"There's got to be a part of me that enjoys it, even if it's just enjoying being annoyed by it. Although I suspect it's more than that. I think there's a part of me who likes being pampered, who enjoys the silly little ceremonies and the funny way ponies gape and grovel. It's awful to think about, because that means there's a part of me which thinks I deserve it all, but doesn't want to admit it. I suppose I'm terrible at being honest with myself. You'd think something like that would come with age."
"I can't see it. You either dislike something or you like something, don't you?" Mayor Mayor asked.
"Well, what do you hate, Mayor Mayor?"
"Other than the idea of being mayor? Well, let's see." She really couldn't think of much, she even only mostly really, really, really disliked Wintergreen. There was something though, a taste in her mouth she could never quite get rid of. "Almonds. I hate almonds. Can't stand them. Never want to look at another one as long as I live."
Princess Celestia laughed. "Dear, what do you think you've been snacking on all this time?"
Mayor Mayor screamed and hurled the bag in her hooves away from her in fear and disgust. They spilled into the grass in front of her, disgorging the horrible truth of its contents: Almonds. Hot, salted almonds. She'd picked them up from the market on her way to the old oak, still in a haze over her deliverance from her doom. She'd enjoyed them as she plotted her revenge, barely even aware of what they were. Some part of her must have been aware, some unconscious part that was hidden within her, secretly working away within the depths of her heart, pulling her towards the intoxicating, disgusting taste of almonds.
Celestia just smiled, for the most part it was an attempt at comfort, but a hint of mischievousness pulled at the edges of the smile.
"But my cutie mark! I'm a librarian! It's my calling!" Mayor Mayor said. She had to prove Celestia wrong. Celestia had to be wrong. There had to be a way out of this. She had just narrowly escaped becoming a mayor, and here was her very deliverance from that wicked fate telling her that it was only a temporary reprieve.
"A bound scroll. It's an interesting cutie mark, to be sure," Celestia said, looking at the emblem that marked Mayor Mayor's thigh, "How'd you get it?"
"The library. Ponyville's library," Mayor Mayor said, remembering back, proud of what she'd accomplished and what it meant about her future, "I got it when the old librarian let me run it for a day. I ran it much better then she ever did. I reorganized all the scrolls, and scheduled everything for the next several weeks. I even wrote some letters to get books replaced and some transfers done."
"Administration."
"What?"
"Your special talent is administration, then, isn't it?"
Mayor Mayor gaped. No, no. That was impossible. She couldn't be wrong about her own cutie mark, her own purpose. She was a librarian. She was going to be- well, she'd been planning to be, the head librarian of-
"Let me guess, you wanted to be the head librarian somewhere?" Celestia asked, as if predicting Mayor Mayor's very thoughts.
"Canterlot." Mayor Mayor wilted. She gave up, as she often did, and waited for the Princess to finish her horrible onslaught, finish systematically picking apart her life and showing her the unfortunate truths behind it. She could ignore it, refute it in herself, if only the Princess would shut up and go away.
Celestia's smile was definitely michevous now. "What do you think a head librarian does?"
"I don't-"
"Organizes. Leads meetings. Balances budgets. Approves new rules. Disciplines junior staff."
"So what?" Mayor Mayor glared up at the Princess, who didn't seemed at all phased by her defiance.
"What do you think a mayor does?" Celestia questioned in an almost singsong voice, the trap was closing, and there was no escape for Mayor Mayor anymore. She looked up, her eyes once again on the branches.
"Cuts ribbons! Makes speeches!"
"What do you think leading a meeting is? A head librarian makes speeches, and cutting ribbons is a very small part of the job. The reality is that everything I just said about being a head librarian applies to being a mayor. In fact, the Canterlot royal library is almost a city in itself, with the amount of staff it employs."
"What are you saying?"
"What I'm saying, Mayor Mayor, is that if you really didn't want to be mayor, you wouldn't have even shown up at that debate. If you really hadn't cared, nothing in the world could've made you a mayor, even if they had elected you in a landslide. What I'm saying, Mayor Mayor, is even what you wanted to be was a just a mayor, albeit with a different title."
Mayor Mayor sat in stunned silence. Celestia watched the way the leaves swayed in the breeze of the tree. Then, when it became clear there was nothing left to say, the Princess stood. "I hope you find your way in life, Mayor Mayor."
The Princess walked away in her usual graceful stride. The Pegasus guards who accompanied her appeared from nowhere to flank her as she made her way back to the chariot. Mayor Mayor watched, her mind caught up in itself like a broken motor. No one dared to approach the Princess as she left, except for Wintergreen, who walked close enough to the Princess to wink at her. Celestia winked back.
Mayor Mayor saw this and realized that she'd never told Celestia her name. The Princess just knew it, and spoke it as though it were familiar to her. Mayor Mayor started screaming, trapped in the horror of the idea that the Princess of Equestria herself was out to get her. She didn't stop screaming until everyone else started screaming several minutes later when town hall finally collapsed.
2.
Mayor Mayor had never met her mother, but she imagined the departed mare was something like the old librarian. The old librarian had always been pleased to see Mayor Mayor when she came to the library. At first the filly had paid the old mare little heed. The library was just a place to escape to where none of her classmates ever dared to chase her with their jeers. It was some time before she discovered the warmth of the old mare, who always smiled at her when she arrived, and always asked her how she was doing, and actually listened and cared about her answer.
It wasn't always a perfect relationship; Mayor Mayor often grew frustrated when the old librarian couldn't hear her when she requested some book or other. It was the same frustration she imagined the strange pony with the indistinct cutie mark felt when questing for his or her unknown glocklim, whatever that was. Once she'd spent ten minutes trying to explain that she needed a book for her correspondence course, and her father couldn't afford to pay for it. Could she please, please put in for a transfer from another library? That was towards the end though, when the old librarian was starting to forget things, and wouldn't let Mayor Mayor do any of the tasks around the library that she used to.
Most of the memories were good ones though. One afternoon, after class, Mayor Mayor found her outside the library, huddled down underneath the old oak, a book between her hooves. When she noticed Mayor Mayor, she invited the filly to sit besides her. The two ponies sat for a time, and the old librarian began to read from the book, a story about a pony far away from home, searching for a place to bury her mother's ashes. She found a place, besides a tree within the Everfree.
The story morphed at some point as the old mare stopped reading from the book and began to tell another story. This one was about a tyrannical mayor, who became mayor of the town through virtue of bullying everyone into voting for her. Once she was mayor, she would gang-press ponies into working on her projects for her free of charge, by threat of raising taxes beyond what the poor ponies could afford. Under her orders they cut into the Forest of the Everfree. Taming it. Tearing it down. They took the valley that was now the center of Ponyville and made it into something different, something new. They stopped up the river and cut away the trees.
It wasn't what the mayor was doing that was bad, not really, it was the just way of things. It was how she did it that was bad. The threats, the bullying, the continual postponement of elections. She built a town, but she built it on the misery of others. No one stood up to her until the town reached the tree where the mother's ashes were buried. The mare who'd buried them there stood before the tree and refused to let anyone touch the tree, and bucked off anyone who tried. Soon, some friends came to join her, other mares who were tired of the way the mayor did things, and the mayor was turned away. The tree survived. The town continued to grow, but it moved around the tree, rather then destroying it. The power of the mayor waned, and she was forced to hold an election that she lost.
Mayor Mayor, still a little filly at the time, had drifted into half-aware sleep as the story continued. Her head had slumped against the side of the old mare, and her drifting mind made the imaginings of the story into a dream with movement and weight. She would never be a mayor like that, she told herself, as her eyes fluttered shut.
The old librarian smiled down at the girl. If she'd lived, perhaps she could've convinced Granny Smith that the girl wouldn't make such a bad mayor after all. Instead she'd passed away, unceremoniously, and without much comment. No one in the town remembered her but Granny Smith, Madam Pie, and Mayor Mayor. Carrot Cake could've told you there was an old librarian, but he couldn't have told you her name or what she looked like.
Her name was Book Binding, and her ashes were buried besides the old oak, without a tombstone, at her own request
3.
Town hall opened with a horrible groan, splitting right down the middle. Celestia was gone, and there was no one to protect Ponyville from the weight of its own incompetence. The pillars that held the building up tumbled, and everyone in the field around the hall scrambled to get out of the way.
"I warned you!" Solid Wall cried. "I warned you, I warned you I-"
He was silenced when the building began to disgorge its horrible hidden contents out of its growing orifice. A stream of cloth poured from the whole and just kept coming, creating a tidal wave that swept Solid Wall away. Waves and waves of socks swept of out the building. More socks than anyone could ever possibly need. More socks than anyone could ever wear in a Celestia span-lifetime.
Atop the wave of cloth rode Mayor Strawpony, who took the whole affair with solid indifference. In fact, he barely seemed to move at all. Everyone else moved, everyone screamed and ran and tumbled. The only sound besides screaming that could be heard was the sound of Wintergreen's hysterical laughter, a strange, desperate, choking laughter that was more terror and desperation than it was amusement.
The surge of socks didn't end for some time, but it did turn out to be a good cushion against the falling debris that rained from town hall. The field around town hall was covered in socks, and the ponies buried in it took some time to extricate themselves. When they did, they came out to discovered Mayor Mayor and Mayor Strawpony staring at each other. Mayor Mayor's expression was of shock and dismay. Mayor Strawpony's expression was a dopey smile that had been painted on and was beginning to fade.
Mayor Strawpony's name was descriptive: he was a scarecrow.
He wasn't an animated scarecrow, or a magical scarecrow, or anything like that. He was just a scarecrow. His purpose was to scare crows. He hadn't been doing a terribly good job of scaring crows, since he'd spent decades stuffed away in town hall.
"Strawpony is a straw pony," Mayor Mayor said, her mind working through this fact. Now she was certain she was going mad. There was no other alternative.
"Of course he's a straw pony," Granny Smith explained, trotting up from behind her, "He's a scarecrow, he's supposed to scare away good'fer'nothin' politicians like you. Politicians ain't good for this town, or any town, I reckon."
Madam Pie, McFeely, and the dozen other elderly ponies who'd also been in on this terrible secret, kept their silence. Mostly because half of them were still buried beneath all the socks.
Carrot Cake extracted his lower half from the sea of socks. Cup Cake had managed to bolt, but he had frozen in fear and let himself get swept away in the torrent. After spitting out the socks that'd lodged themselves in his mouth, Carrot Cake looked at the scarecrow, then at Granny Smith, then back at the scarecrow. "But, uh, we can't have a scarecrow as a mayor, can we?"
"And why the hay not?" Granny Smith challenged.
"Town hall. Socks." Mayor Mayor replied, looking up at the building. It was in tatters. The roof was gone, and a massive cracks ran down both sides. It was doubtful it would ever be salvaged.
"Er, right," Granny Smith was chagrined. "That reminds me! Minty!"
Minty Wintergreen, who'd been trying to sneak away while everyone was distracted, froze. She turned around and gave the most sickeningly sweet and innocent smile any pony could ever give. "Who, me?"
"You're fired."
"Aww," Wintergreen groaned, "Can I at least keep the socks?"
"No."
"Aww."
Mayor Mayor grinned as she realized that Wintergreen had been destroyed, and she hadn't had to raise a single hoof to manage it. Well, maybe those hexes from Madam Pie had worked after all. She reminded herself to consult Madam Pie on all her future vengeance missions.
"So, uh, I'm confused. You've been the mayor all along?" Carrot Cake asked Granny Smith.
"'Course not! And don't call me such a thing ever again. I'll pretend you didn't say that this once. Strawpony was the mayor, and his assistants did the job of mayorin' without being politicians. Means they had to do their job well, instead of bein' slimy and underhanded."
"But, now we don't have a mayor, or a mayor's assistant. Who's going to organize this clean up?" Carrot Cake asked, and pointed to the pond of socks and cedar surrounding town hall.
Quill Filing popped up from underneath the socks, a few of them still draped upon his head like the silly decorations of a court jester. His companion was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't matter at all. His moment had now arrived. His grand plan was about to bear fruit. "Ah! But you do have a mayor!"
Carrot Cake was confused. "Huh? Who?"
"Well, we can't have a scarecrow as a mayor obviously, which means he's disqualified from the election." Quill Filing explained, not bothering to pull himself from the pile of socks that held him. "Which means there's only one pony on the ballot for this year's election."
There was a pause as Quill Filing's idea spread. Realization crept up the faces of all the ponies surrounding him, except for Mayor Mayor, who ignored her father at any cost. Her eyes had returned to her political rival, the straw pony, as she tried to determine how much of this was real and how much was insanity. She touched it, it felt real, it looked real. How many diseases of the mind did she now have?
Meanwhile, the cost of ignoring her father piled up, as he worked his machinations, and brought to fruition his plan for his daughter. Mayor Mayor would never want for anything, and she wouldn't even have to eat almonds if she didn't want to. She would be mayor, and even if she was a terrible one that would be alright. There was no way she couldn't be an improvement over a scarecrow.
"Makes sense to me," Carrot Cake agreed, "I mean, if it doesn't work out, we can always elect someone else next year."
"I don't like it." Granny Smit objected.
"Do you have an alternative?"
"Yep. No mayors."
Carrot Cake shook his head. "I don't think that'll work. I'm not voting for a scarecrow, no matter what Celestia says."
"So. We're electing her then?" Granny Smith pointed at Mayor Mayor, who'd managed to knock off Strawpony's straw hat, and was now trying and failing to put it back on. "I don't trust her. She's a politician."
"She's fine. I'd vote for her, in fact, I was planning on it before things got all strange," Carrot Cake shrugged. "She seems harmless enough."
"Harmless as a fly, and far too stupid to do any lasting damage," Quill Filing promised. "But why bother with an election at all? Does anyone else want the job?"
Nobody wanted the job. Not the Apples, not the Riches, not the Cakes, nor anyone else who was about. In fact, nobody in Ponyville wanted the job, not even Mayor Mayor, who was given it without her will or consent. Somebody had to have the job, after all, and she was just standing right there and really didn't have anything else to do. What was the point of having a librarian when there was no library? A mayor was almost the same thing anyways, or close enough, at least so everyone agreed.
"Then, I suppose it's decided then. You're the new mayor," Carrot Cake said, and patted Mayor Mayor on the back, "Congratulations."
"Wait. What? You mean me?" Mayor Mayor asked, she turned to look at the group of people who were now staring at her expectantly. "Wait. You're making me the mayor?"
"I suppose we'll just have to accept it." Madam Pie lamented, leaning against Granny Smith who glared at her. "C'mon, Granny, let's get something to eat."
Granny Smith stopped glaring at Madam Pie for a moment to turn her ire on Mayor Mayor. "Bah! Take your ponyfeather mayoralty if'n you want it so bad. We'll get along just fine."
"I'm- the mayor?" Mayor Mayor said, her mind still whirling through everything that had happened. What fresh insanity was this? Why was she the mayor? What in Equestria was going on?
"Good luck with this mess," Carrot Cake said, indicating the ruins of town hall and its socks, before taking his leave.
"Congratulations!" Quill Filing beamed, trying and failing to extricate himself from the socks. "You'll be the best mayor Ponyville has ever had, of that I'm sure!"
"Wait. Stop. You can't do this to me!" Mayor Mayor cried, whirling around at all the departing ponies. They ignored her, they had homes and shops and fields to check to make sure they hadn't been destroyed by an onslaught of socks. They hadn't time for unimportant things like politics "Stop! Everyone, wait! I don't want to be the mayor! Stop!"
It was too late. Everybody left.
Mayor Mayor Mayor was alone.
Epilogue: Mayor Mayor Mayor
1.
At first, Mayor Mayor refused to have anything to do with her new job. They couldn't make her do it if she didn't want to. Well, she did give Solid Wall permission to hire some workers to starting cleaning up around town hall, giving away the socks for free and clearing out all the debris, but that hardly counted. Solid Wall had asked her and it wasn't like that it mattered whether or not she allowed him, since he probably would've just done it anyways. It definitely didn't matter that people commented that this was good 'delegation of responsibility,' because she didn't have any responsibilities, because she didn't accept that she was the mayor.
She didn't care that everyone who'd lived in the era of Pilgrim Heart was now a little afraid of her. She certainly didn't care about the little bribes they kept trying to give her in order to placate her. She only took the lavish apartment the Riches furnished her with because it was better than the gazebo, and she only attended the delicious and filling dinners the Apple family regularly invited her to because it would be severely rude to ignore their invitations. It wasn't that she was enjoying the newfound wealth that political power gave her. It was just accepting proper hospitality from others.
The dinners that the Apples put on for her were many and good, and she was always invited to sit at the head of the table, where Granny Smith usually sat. Granny Smith would glare at her throughout the entire meal, while her daughter and son-in-law nervously explained how grateful they were that taxes remained low in Ponyville, and what an honor it was to have her to dinner with them. She didn't really like them, but did enjoy the company of the young colt that was currently their only child, although it was clear that there was another one on the way. He didn't speak much, but he would smile and look down whenever she talked to him about books. Once he'd let slip that he liked the Little Mare on the Prairie books, and then looked death stricken before clamping up into silence one again.
He called her Mayor Mare, respectfully, which was a much better name then Mayor Mayor Mayor, and Mayor Mayor used her much expanded paycheck to send the child a brand new set of the Little Mare on the Prairie books as a gift. It was not long after that regular dinners ended. Perhaps Granny Smith's curiosity about the mare was sated, or perhaps her daughter and son-in-law were adequately reassured that she was a good pony and wouldn't tax their business to death.
Once the socks were cleared and town hall was in something resembling a state of repair, Mayor Mayor asked Solid Wall to have the annex taken down. It was only a request of course, not an order from a mayor, but it was nice to see things getting done. She also started signing legislation in, because otherwise it didn't get enacted and nothing got done. It was only a temporary thing though. She was most definitely not a mayor, and she most definitely didn't enjoy being a mayor.
2.
It was several years later that Mayor Mayor came to the horrible, life-shattering realization that she enjoyed being mayor. It happened one afternoon in her office, when she was signing legislation because she had nothing better to do. She'd just finished signing her name to a new budget when it occurred to her that she could abuse her power, like Wintergreen had. She could play with some numbers and fish out room in the budget and she could finally build a new library.
A good library.
A much better library then Ponyville had ever had. The type of library that would rival Manehattan Central Library. The kind of library that might one day even rival Canterlot Royal Library. Something to really put Ponyville on the map. With the power of her mayoralty, she could finally make her dream come true. She could become the head librarian of a magnificent library. It was only possible because she was the mayor. She couldn't have done it as librarian, she wouldn't have had a chance, but with the power and money that came with her horrible unwanted job, she could make everything she dreamed of happen. It was awful. She loved it.
(She even, in her most horrible, secret moments, knew that she liked making speeches and cutting ribbons. It was always a thrill to see some new part of the poor and broken town expand under her leadership.)
It didn't take her long to draft the orders, the only thing that she needed was an idea. Something to make a truly unique and amazing library. She looked out the gaping chasm in town hall that once was a wall with a window. There she saw an ancient oak tree, it's branches hanging just above the squat skyline of Ponyville.
There was her idea. There was her library, there was her magnum opus, the thing that would make her remembered throughout all the future generations of Ponyville. It wouldn't just be a library, either, it would be her home, and she would have all the books she ever wanted, all the books she could ever ask for. Just as Wintergreen could have as many socks as she wanted. Of course, Mayor Mayor would be more reasonable in her demands. Obviously, she would never ask more than was possible for any pony to get done on their own. She was a benevolent mayor.
"How in the name of Celestia am I going to turn a tree into a library?" Solid Wall asked himself, staring at the old oak. He was flummoxed.
3.
In the end, most historians agreed Mayor Mayor was the worst mayor in the history of Ponyville. It was largely agreed that her early success in expanding the town was largely thanks to Mayor Strawpony's policies, in particular his 'free socks for everypony' policy, which was his last act in office. The massive influx of cotton was sold off at a large profit on the open market by Filthy Rich, and the taxes from those sales were what largely spurred the urban renewal process that launched Ponyville into notoriety.
When neighsayers pointed out that Strawpony was not in fact a pony at all, and therefore describing his administration as having policies at all was absurd, the historians balked. Just because Strawpony was a scarecrow didn't mean his contributions meant nothing. To be ignorant of the contributions of other species other then ponies to greater society was to discount much of important history, and the historians wouldn't stand for that kind of nonsense.
The real reason Mayor Mayor was considered the worst mayor in ponyville's history was because of the sheer amount of disasters that occurred during her administration. The town was attacked, destroyed, turned into the chaos capital of the world, and many other horrible things before she was through. Of course, none of these things were Mayor Mayor's fault, and she dealt with all of them with level-headedness and a degree of competence, which was all anyone could really ask for. The truth was that this was the real job of any mayor. Not cutting ribbons, or making speeches, or signing legislation or disciplining junior staff or anything like that. The real job of any mayor was to take the blame when things went wrong, and Mayor Mayor excelled at this above all else. She truly was the best worst mayor ponyville ever had.
Of course, by the time the new library was finished, it really didn't matter what history would say about Mayor Mayor. She was happy, she was surrounded by the books that she loved in a large library with an endless selection. The bedroom on the second level was decorated just to her liking and she reveled in it. Everything was wonderful. She was a head librarian at last. Once there was room in the budget, she would expand the library even further by expanding the basement, and then she would have junior librarians to order around. Soon, Ponyville library would be the envy of all the libraries in Equestria- No! The world!
Less than a year after the Ponyville Library was completed, Mayor Mayor was kicked out to make room for Celestia's prized student, who took it as her permanent residence. She also took the title of head librarian, and she even brought with her a junior librarian, a little dragon, who she could order around to her heart's content. The library, which Mayor Mayor had built as a labor of love, would forever be associated by future generations with Twilight Sparkle, who'd had nothing to do with its construction.
Sometimes, you're just fated to lose, no matter what.
