Humility Counseling

by Marozia

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Comedy, Rarity, Prince Blueblood, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life
Length: 7944

Celestia decides she has had enough of Prince Blueblood's arrogance and enlists the help of a noted counselor to provide guidance to her wayward nephew.

The Princess of the Sun believed that she had gotten used to pompous aristocrats over the course of her centuries-long reign. Unfortunately, she was wrong, and now Prince Blueblood has finally exhausted the last of her patience.

At her wits' end, and to get him out of her mane as much as anything else, Celestia orders him to see a hoof-picked counselor, Bertram Shrink, with whom she has entrusted the seemingly impossible task of hammering some decency into the haughty young stallion. It doesn't take long, however, for Shrink to find himself in need of some outside help to tackle his greatest challenge yet...

Published 2015-11-26 00:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-12-06 03:41:44 UTC

Shrink the Shrink

Prince Blueblood sat in a very dull waiting room, staring firmly at the opposite wall as he tried to avoid looking at the filthy peasants who shared the room with him. Inwardly, he was seething.

"I cannot believe that she would stoop so low. To threaten my very good name? This is a crime of incomparable magnitude! I swear, I will make that savage of a Caliph pay dearly for crossing me..."

A light nudge against his leg tore him from his internal monologue. Looking down, he saw a small filly with a bright mane and equally bright eyes. She looked at up at him with curiosity.

"Hey there! Why are you staring at the wall like that? Is everything okay?"

Blueblood, irritated at the interruption, snarled at the poor child.

"I did not come here to have my time wasted by foolish peasants. Get out of my face."

The filly's eyes openly displayed her shock and sadness.

"Y-you... you're mean! I hate you!"

Before the Prince could react, he felt the unpleasant sensation of the filly's hind leg smacking into his side. Despite her young age and seeming lack of strength, it still hurt enough to make him visibly wince. He glared down at the filly with fearsome rage, causing her to begin backing away slowly.

"I should have you drawn and quartered for this! Begone!"

Suitably scared out of her wits, the filly ran for the safety of her mother on the other side of the room. Blueblood was briefly worried that the filly would tell her mother about the incident and he'd have to endure yet another unwanted interaction with the working class, but fortunately the older mare seemed to completely ignore her crying daughter in favor of playing on her mobile device.

Allowing a self-satisfied smile to slither across his face like an obese tapeworm, Blueblood leaned back in his chair. He spoke aloud to himself, too quiet for anyone around him to hear.

"Ahh, a filly with a mother too engrossed in the trappings of modernity to care for her child's woes. Fortune smiles upon me this day."

Not long afterwards, Blueblood heard his name being called. Leaping off his chair as if he had been waiting his whole life for the moment he'd no longer have to be in this awful waiting room, he rushed over to the reception desk. The mare behind the desk looked at the Prince, her scrutinizing eyes darting between his breathtakingly handsome features and a clipboard she held aloft with magic. Clearing her throat, she spoke in a high-pitched and somewhat nasally tone.

"Ah, Blueblood, is it? Says here the Princess herself scheduled some meetings with the big boss."

Blueblood snorted and held his head high in the air, offended.

"I beg your pardon! That is Prince Blueblood to you! Why, if I was the head of this kingdom, such lese majeste would be a capital offense!"

The receptionist looked confused more than anything.

"Less what now?"

Prince Blueblood rolled his eyes melodramatically.

"Oh, nevermind."

Shrugging, the mare looked back at her clipboard for a few moments before murmuring to herself.

"Well, the boss is ready to see you now. Go down the left hall until you get to the end. You should see a door that is painted bright pink. That's his room. Do have a fun time, dear."

Blueblood harrumphed in response before marching snottily out of the waiting room, following her directions until he reached a door at the the end of the hall that was, indeed, painted a garishly hideous pink. He entered the room without so much as a knock, quickly slamming the door behind him.

He was greeted by the sight of a mostly unremarkable office, the only notable feature of which was a rather comprehensive collection of novelty plushies that sat on a shelf near the door. Leaning back in a luxurious lounge chair, the stallion who was to be his counselor appraised him with interest, holding a notepad casually in his lap.

"Vladimir Blueblood. Prince of Equestria, Duke of Manechester, scion of the great line of Bucephalus, and the majority shareholder in the Equestrian sticky tape industry. It is an honor to make your acquaintance. Forgive me if I don't stand to greet you, though. My old bones are far too weak for that."

Prince Blueblood stared at him in shock, then anger.

"Never call me Vladimir again, old nag!"

The counselor seemed to take the insult in stride, shrugging.

"If you insist. I know we all have certain things we're ashamed of. We don't get to choose our names, now, do we? They are chosen for us, in an arbitrary process of childish nonsense that spits out ridiculous names like Sunshine Berrysparkle!"

The Prince cocked his head, taken aback by the strange old fellow.

"Come again?"

The counselor shook his head hurriedly.

"Oh, sorry, my mind wanders sometimes. Just a product of age, is all. Please, sit down and we'll get the rest of the formalities out of the way."

Blueblood slowly sat down in one of the chairs that were clearly reserved for the counselor's patients. Now, sitting directly across from him, he could see that the other stallion had not been exaggerating when he had referred to his bones. An earth pony, he looked to be about ninety years old. His saggy skin was largely devoid of fur, and what little remained of his tail and mane were bleached totally white with age. His cutie mark was rather underwhelming as well, being nothing more than a counselor's chair.

Despite all of this, however, there was something in his eyes that prevented the Prince from merely writing him off as an old coot; a hard, determined fire in them that gave Blueblood the very uneasy sensation that he might actually have to try and change his ways.

Clearing his throat, the counselor offered the Prince a friendly, if mostly toothless, smile.

"I believe an introduction is overdue here. My name is Bertram Shrink. I have been a counselor for sixty-eight years, and in Celestia's personal service for the last thirty. And yes, I'm really ninety years old. Ninety-five, actually."

Blueblood looked at him with the kind of half-pitying, half-morbidly curious expression normally reserved for watching animals at the zoo.

"Celestia's beard, you're bucking old!"

Bertram Shrink nodded sagely.

"That's what they all say. Minus the part about your aunt's facial hair, at least."

Shuffling a little in his chair, Shrink rubbed a sore on his cheek before continuing, preparing to scribble on his little notepad.

"Right, then, I'm sure you have lots of important things to pretend to do, so let's not waste any time. You're here because Princess Celestia was dissatisfied with your conduct during an important meeting with the Caliph of Mareocco. If I remember correctly, it involved a priceless Mareoccan relic that you were using in your... bathroom, was it?"

Blueblood nodded shamelessly.

"That is correct. The little ruffian almost turned me into a spit roast when I had the nerve to invoke Prince Kalita's timeless Law of Finder's Keepers! It's like those sand-nags know nothing of proper Equestrian jurisprudence!"

Shrink looked at his patient deliberately.

"Please, I would ask that you refrain from using such foul language in this room. This is a place of peace and meditation, and the use of slurs like that is highly inappropriate."

Blueblood waved a hoof dismissively at him.

"Bah. They are beneath my consideration. Not even worth being considered ponies, if you ask me."

Shrink shrugged his shoulders, scribbling some sentences on his sheet.

"Very well. Anyway, as I understand it, Her Highness has given you an ultimatum. Make a genuine effort towards improving as a pony, or be stripped of your rank and prestige. Certainly, a difficult situation for any member of the peerage."

Blueblood was briefly pleased by the seeming show of sympathy, raising his head in pride and smiling.

"Yes, it is a very difficult situation. Why, I have already suffered tremendously just-"

He stopped as he saw the teasing look in the counselor's eyes, and his smile flipped upside down instantly.

"Wait a minute. Are you mocking me?"

Shrink shrugged and smiled innocently, in much the same way as Blueblood had often seen Celestia do after pranking someone.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, my noble Prince. Please, you mustn't be so paranoid."

Blueblood half-heartedly opened his mouth to try and defend himself, before letting out a frustrated grumble.

"Oh, buck it, let's just move on."

Some time later, Shrink remained in his office, scribbling on his notepad. However, the Prince had long since departed, and now the figure standing before him was of Blueblood's not-particularly-close relative, Princess Celestia. She looked down at him, her eyes inquisitive.

"So, my friend, were you able to learn anything useful about the Prince and his... condition?"

Shrink chuckled quietly at that.

"Ah, yes, his condition. What the great physician Haylen once called affluenza. A mentality affecting those born into wealth and privilege, and who never had to work an honest day in their lives to earn any of it. Yes, indeed, he is a prime case of that. Quite sad, really. I'm sure he could have been a nice fellow if he hadn't been spoiled rotten."

Celestia shook her head, not entirely convinced.

"Possibly, but I don't think you should discount just how much he simply enjoys being cruel to other ponies. I've seen him threaten to throw little fillies in the dungeon just for bumping into him, you know. Empty threats, maybe, but he still seems to get a disturbing amount of enjoyment from bullying others. I suppose some ponies just never grow out of that mindset, do they?"

Shrink flicked his ear.

"You'd know that better than I, Tia. I may be old, but I've got nothing on you."

Celestia blushed sheepishly.

"You didn't have to remind me."

The counselor snorted a bit, leaning back in his chair.

"Why not? Every pony I talk to these days can't help but tell me how old I am. It's nice to have someone around who's even older than me, so I don't feel quite so bucking ancient."

Celestia smiled a little, but it was an expression that held extreme sadness behind it.

"Indeed. I wish I had the same luxury."

Shrink quickly frowned, realizing what he had accidentally just done.

"Oh, blast it all. I didn't mean to... you know..."

Celestia took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes.

"I know. Let's just get back on track."

Shrink nodded, not wishing to further aggravate her existential woes.

"Of course. As I said, Blueblood is spoiled so bad that he probably defecates loose change. The thing is, he's not stupid. I know stupid. No, as far as I can tell, he seems to be quite intelligent, but he's stuck in some pretty poor ways of thinking."

Celestia raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Do go on."

Shrink took a quick breath.

"For one, he is an unrepentant racist. I don't know why, but he has some serious issues with the Mareoccans. I wasn't able to get much else out of him about that, at least nothing that would be acceptable for fillies and colts to hear. Additionally, he seems to genuinely believe that the world revolves solely around him. In his present state of mind, I'd be surprised if he's even capable of considering what effects his actions will have on other ponies, much less caring about that."

Celestia rubbed her chin with a hoof, murmuring thoughtfully.

"I figured the second part out myself. But the first... are you sure? I thought he was just using those slurs to demean the Caliph out of spite."

Shrink sighed.

"Well, I'm sure spite did play a role. But... well, call it what you want. Intuition, Shrinky Sense, whatever. I think I've been in this profession long enough to know when there's something else at play. I don't believe that Blueblood developed those sentiments on his own, at least not entirely. Of course, he's not the type of stallion who is going to be opening up anytime soon, so I have to ask you a favor."

Celestia looked at him oddly.

"A favor? What exactly are you thinking, here?"

Shrink scratched his snout.

"Nothing too big. I just need you to get someone to delve into Blueblood's personal life and gather some details for me. Not just about what might be behind his hatred of the Mareoccans, but also anything that might help to explain why he is this much of a brat."

Celestia's ears flopped a little as she looked at him with an unamused expression.

"You have an interesting definition of 'nothing too big', Shrink. How exactly do you suppose we do this without him catching on?"

A thoughtful grin slowly stretched across the counselor's saggy lips.

"Well, if I know spoiled nobles, they usually have a soft spot for the mares. And I know spoiled nobles."

Celestia rolled her eyes.

"Oh, no, you're not suggesting we..."

Shrink nodded eagerly.

"Yes, I'm suggesting we honeypot him. Now who's the prettiest mare of them all, in your estimation? I don't get out much, myself."

Celestia closed her eyes, giving the question some thought.

"Well, I... I'm not quite sure. I can think of a few prominent beauty icons, but none that I would trust to keep this a secret. Except perhaps... Rarity?"

Shrink looked intrigued by the suggestion.

"Rarity, you say? The Element of Generosity? She is certainly easy on the eyes, I'll say that much. She's become quite successful in fashion circles, too, if I recall. Perhaps that will be enough to get Blueblood to acknowledge her existence."

Celestia nodded slowly.

"Yes, she would be an ideal candidate for this mission. The problem is that she and the Prince already met during the Grand Galloping Gala a few years ago. And... well, let's just say using your date as an unwilling pastry shield isn't the best way to leave a good impression."

Shrink winced.

"Oh, yuck. That's low, even for Blueblood."

Celestia turned around and walked up to the door, primarily in order to silently admire Shrink's truly quite excellent plushie collection. Sighing in contemplation as she stared into the expressive eyes of a plushie made in an almost frighteningly exact likeness of herself, she replied.

"It's all too normal in his relationships with mares, I'm afraid. And I believe that will be the hardest thing to do here. Rarity is rather stubborn, and it would likely be very difficult - perhaps even impossible - to convince her to spend time with the Prince, even if it was to spy on him."

Shrink shrugged his shoulders.

"I've never met her, so I can't offer any advice on that. But considering she's an Element of Harmony, and you're the Princess, I think you might have better luck than most with convincing her to help."

Celestia murmured in response, changing her focus from the plushie of herself to one of her protege, Twilight Sparkle. She guessed that it had been made before her ascension to alicornhood, as the plushie lacked any noticeable wings. Then again, it was also possible that the maker of the plushie had simply refused to include the wings out of spite. Some ponies were just stubborn like that.

"Yes, you may be right about that. I'll travel to Ponyville tomorrow and speak with her. In the meantime, continue these sessions. Everyday if possible, every three at the very least. Hopefully, the threat of losing his royal privileges will spur some change in him, even if it is purely out of self-interest."

Shrink dipped his head in the most significant form of bow his frail body could accomplish.

"As you say, Princess. I wish you the best of luck."

Celestia turned to face him briefly, her expression completely serious.

"No, keep it. You're going to need it a lot more than I will."

A Visit to Ponyville

The next day, shortly after raising the Sun, Celestia set out for Ponyville. As she sat on her flying chariot, with only a few hunky stallions of the Royal Guard to keep her company, she wondered why she rarely ever chose to simply teleport to her next destination.

"Oh, but then I'd never have an excuse for being late, now would I? Besides, the Equestrian Teamsters Union would have my rump if I dismissed all these guards."

Not long after, the chariot set down on the outskirts of Ponyville. Almost instantly, a small crowd of ponies surrounded the Princess, gazing at her with typical expressions of awe and admiration. Celestia smiled benevolently at all of them, but inwardly she had long gotten tired of the constant adoration she received for raising the Sun, an action that was as effortless and mundane for her as defecating.

"I can endure this. Just smile and wave, Tia. Smile and wave."

After a few minutes of fawning over their fearless leader, the ponies seemed to realize that she had business to attend to and slowly filed away, leaving her alone with her guards. She looked them over briefly before speaking, her tone commanding.

"I expect word of my arrival will reach Twilight Sparkle very soon. Do whatever you must to misdirect her, so that I may have enough time to do what we came here for."

Silently and in unison, the guards saluted. Celestia nodded to them before closing her eyes and casting a teleportation spell. When she opened her eyes, she now stood in the middle of Carousel Boutique.

Strangely, the clothing store seemed to be empty. Celestia briefly glanced around for Rarity or anyone else, before noticing that the Element of Generosity was quivering on the ground at her hooves. She felt a pang of guilt, realizing that she had accidentally teleported directly in front of the poor mare and given her the fright of her life.

"P-Princess... p-please... never do that again!"

Celestia frowned in remorse as she helped Rarity up.

"I am terribly sorry, my dear. I did not mean to scare you."

Rarity tried to brush it off, but the fear and adrenaline were still clearly present in her eyes as she backed away slightly from the Princess.

"Heh... it's fine, really. So, uh, what brings you to my boutique today?"

Celestia cleared her throat before responding, gazing at the fashionista seriously.

"I came here because I need your help, Rarity."

Rarity was visibly surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

"You need my help? I mean, of course I'd love to, but... um, what for?"

Celestia continued, preparing to drop the bombshell.

"I need you to seduce Prince Blueblood."

Due to her previous experiences with Rarity, Celestia half-expected her to faint from shock. Instead, however, her expression simply turned from one of surprise into one of disgust and anger.

"Never in a million years. I would rather kiss Discord!"

The Princess swore she heard the trickster god distantly cackling as she faced Rarity down, her tone sympathetic.

"Believe me, I understand your reservations, and I would not ask this of you lightly. The Prince has become more than just a nuisance of late, and I need somepony to get close to him and find out what makes him tick."

Rarity looked puzzled.

"Wait, you want me to spy on him? Is that what you're asking?"

When Celestia nodded in response, she let out a small huff. She turned around, her voice quiet as she replied.

"I would never have expected you to stoop to this level, Princess. I may not like Blueblood, but that doesn't mean I want to hurt him."

Celestia shook her head, even though Rarity couldn't see the gesture.

"No, you misunderstand me. I don't want to hurt him. I want to save him."

Rarity laughed humorlessly, not turning around.

"Oh, sure. And how exactly is gaining and then exploiting his trust supposed to save him?"

Celestia let out a deep sigh.

"If there was any other way, I might consider it. But the truth is, we don't have much time. There was a... diplomatic incident two days ago involving Blueblood and the Caliph of Mareocco. It ended very badly, and I expect the Prince is already concocting some foolhardy scheme to exact his revenge."

Although the Princess could not see it, Rarity's eyes softened slightly.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

Celestia looked at the floor, pawing at it with a hoof.

"Suffice it to say that Blueblood's disdain for others nearly got him killed."

After a long pause, Rarity finally turned around to face her again.

"...Oh, horsefeathers, fine. Let's just get this over with."

Celestia smiled gratefully.

"I'm glad you understand. Get your things in order first, and then meet me at the edge of town when you're ready. Don't take too long!"

Rarity opened her mouth to reply, but the Princess disappeared in a flash of magic before she could even get a single word out. Now alone once again, she grumbled to herself.

"I am so going to regret this..."

Prince Blueblood waited alone in the private meeting room of his ostentatious Canterlot mansion, tapping his hooves against the floor with rising impatience. It was supremely undignified for a stallion of his pedigree to be kept waiting for anyone, much less a lowly ruffian such as the one he was currently awaiting. He muttered irritably to himself as he paced around the room.

"Perhaps I should have threatened him more. Maybe then he wouldn't have been so willing to waste my time!"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to him - a whole ten minutes - a scraggly little stallion entered the room, quickly closing the door behind him. He walked slowly over to the Prince, his faded brown fur glistening with terrified sweat as he lowered his head in supplication.

"My Prince, I am so sorry. I did not mean to keep you waitin-"

Blueblood interrupted him with a painful smack across the face, leaving a noticeable red mark.

"Do not waste my time further with this pathetic sniveling, Swindle. I would have thought after I saved you from the prisons, you would show me the proper respect. Or do you not wish to be there when your little fillies grow up?"

Swindle whimpered a little as he shook his head, trying desperately to resist the urge to cry.

"N-no... of course I do. It will not happen again, I promise."

Blueblood snorted as he turned away, staring out through the large window that offered a panorama of the city. His city, at least as far as he was concerned.

"See to it that it doesn't. Now, as for why I called for you..."

Swindle swallowed, pawing anxiously at the ground.

"Y-yes, my Prince?"

An evil smirk grew on Blueblood's face as he replied.

"I have had... difficulties... of late, with the so-called Caliph of Mareocco. He has seen fit to cross me, and has my aunt's backing in this. I will not stand for such treachery, not from anyone. You shall travel to the Caliph's court and put the old cretin out of his misery, by any means necessary."

Swindle's eyes widened in shock, which was also evident in his stuttering tone.

"M-murder? But, Prince, you can't be serious!"

Blueblood turned around, glaring at Swindle with ferocity.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Swindle averted his eyes from the Prince as he shivered in terror.

"P-please, I'm not an assassin... they'll kill me for sure!"

Blueblood shrugged, entirely apathetic to his plight.

"In all likelihood, yes. But would you rather risk dying at the hands of the Caliph's guards, or have you and your family spend the rest of your miserable lives in the darkest dungeon I can find?"

Swindle moaned softly, choking out his response.

"O-okay... I'll do it... just please don't hurt them!"

Blueblood grinned.

"I'm glad you've seen reason. The preparations for your departure have already been made. The train to Mareocco leaves in fifteen minutes."

Swindle's features became even more colored with dismay.

"You mean... I don't even get to say goodbye? B-but-"

Blueblood smacked him across the face again. Swindle cried out in pain as he fell backwards onto the floor.

"Whine about your family one more time, peasant, and you won't have a family anymore. Now begone!"

Whimpering pitifully, Swindle quickly got to his hooves and ran out of the room. Alone once more, Blueblood returned to looking out the window at the bustling city below, his eyes vengeful and brooding as he smirked cruelly to himself.

"This is the last time anyone will doubt my resolve. I will make certain of it."

The Comedy Club

Later that day, as Canterlot basked in the slowly dimming glow of the afternoon sun, Blueblood slouched lazily in one of the armchairs in Bertram Shrink's office. He gazed at the ancient stallion, his face twisted in an expression of simultaneous boredom and contempt.

"Right. The second session of this abominable farce you call 'counseling'. I don't suppose you take bribes?"

Shrink smiled and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. You're just going to have to sit through these sessions like everypony else."

Blueblood snorted in derision as he glanced furtively behind the old counselor. Near the back of the room, he could see Shrink's desk, almost entirely covered in papers, coffee mugs, and other detritus. The thing that caught his eye, however, was a large blue book that seemed to be at least a thousand pages end to end. It was clear to Blueblood that this book was where Shrink kept records of his patients, and while that information wasn't useful now, the Prince filed it away for later, just in case he ever needed dirt on the old coot.

Returning his mind to the conversation at hand, he muttered in reply.

"Fine. Ask your blasted questions and be done with it."

Shrink nodded slowly and clasped his hooves together in his lap, pen and paper at the ready.

"Very well. I'd like to ask you a bit more about your family life. You were born in 974, correct? That would make you twenty-six."

Blueblood looked at him scornfully.

"No, you fool, I'm twenty-eight. Do you not know basic math, or is your mind so screwed up that you can't remember what year it is?"

Shrink exhaled deeply, clearly uncomfortable with having made such a glaring mistake.

"I apologize. My mind is... not quite what it used to be. Yes, it's 1002 now, isn't it? A mere two years since Celestia's sister returned from a millennium of banishment. Heh, and I still remember the legends from when I was a colt..."

The counselor started drifting off into a dreamy haze of reminiscence, causing Blueblood to roll his eyes.

"And you get paid for this? My father made more sense while licking salt than you do right now. Come on, I have better things to do than watch you drool on yourself."

Shrink shook his head vigorously, trying his best to resist the mental atrophy that almost inevitably came with old age.

"Gah. Again, sorry about that. I know you didn't come to see me wither away like a dehydrated plant. So yes, you're twenty-eight, then?"

Blueblood nodded curtly, clearly not eager about discussing his personal life. Clearing fluid from his throat with a loud cough, the counselor looked at the Prince expectantly.

"Please, continue. I can't be of much help if I don't know anything about you, now can I?"

Letting out an irritated sigh, Blueblood gave in, taking great care to avoid saying anything that was not already common knowledge.

"...Fine. I was born in Manechester during the reign of Hanoverian VIII, my esteemed uncle. He died shortly after my birth, leaving his domains to my father, Rhenish Warmblood. I was thus the heir presumptive from almost the day I was born, finally inheriting the lands of Manechester when my father died six years ago."

Shrink looked at Blueblood with genuine sympathy.

"Your father passed away? Celestia never told me that. I'm... sorry for your loss."

Blueblood bared his teeth, and for a moment the counselor could see a deep-seated fury burning in his eyes before it was hidden once again.

"Spare me your pity, fossil. I have no need of it."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a long time before Shrink asked another question.

"So, who raised you when you were a foal? Was it your father, or somepony else?"

Blueblood shrugged apathetically.

"I hardly see how it matters. I am who I am now, aren't I?"

Shrink opened his mouth to try and push the issue, but he could tell from simple intuition that the Prince would not give him a satisfactory answer. Not this time, at least. Adopting a polite smile, he instead took a different course.

"I see. Well, I know our sessions are supposed to run for longer, but I actually have some business to attend to before the night is young. I assume you don't mind an early release?"

Blueblood didn't even try to hide his grin.

"I think I might be starting to like you, old one."

Shrink chuckled.

"Now now, don't be trying to flatter me here. But do have a fun night, will you?"

Blueblood eagerly stood up.

"Oh, I shall. Today is open night at the Comedy Club, and I have a few crates of rotten tomatoes at my estate. It will be glorious!"

Shrink shook his head in a mixture of amusement and concern as Blueblood dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Oh sweet Celestia, that stallion is a character, alright."

As if on cue, the Princess of the Sun appeared in his office, accompanied by a bright flash of magic. A playful smile adorned her face as she spoke.

"You called?"

The old counselor didn't even flinch as he wrote a few more notes on his pad. Celestia's smile slowly faded, replaced with a more serious expression, before Shrink replied.

"No, but opportune timing nonetheless. I just sent Blueblood away early. We were talking a bit about his childhood, but it wasn't going anywhere. He didn't say anything that wasn't already in his file, and clammed up pretty quick when I tried to dig any deeper. If he's really as vengeful as they say, though, I doubt we'll have much longer before he does something we'll all regret."

Celestia murmured quietly to herself.

"Indeed. Hopefully, our new assistant will be able to speed things along."

Shrink's ears perked up.

"I take it you were successful, then? Rarity is on board?"

Celestia licked her lips.

"The prospect of revenge didn't appeal to her, but I was able to convince her of the high stakes involved. She's settling in as we speak. In fact, we might be able to start the operation tonight. Did Blueblood say where he was going?"

Shrink nodded excitably.

"He said he was going to the Comedy Club to-"

"-to throw rotten tomatoes on the actors. He's done it before."

Celestia finished his sentence, her eyes heavy with dreary frustration at her nephew's complete lack of maturity. Shrink snorted softly in response, rubbing his forehead with a hoof.

"For some reason that doesn't surprise me. Let's hope Rarity can stop him from engaging in any produce-related antics on this fine evening."

The Princess let out a deep sigh as she adjusted her crown.

"I would advise you not to hold your breath on that, Shrink. At this point, I don't know if even the aid of an Element of Harmony will do us any good..."

The city of Canterlot was one of the wealthiest in Equestria, maybe even the world. As such, most of its buildings were paragons of brilliant architecture, complemented by some of the best engineers, custodians, and police in the kingdom. One of the few notable exceptions was the Canterlot Comedy Club. Despite being a fairly new addition to the ancient city, it had already acquired both the look and reputation of a festering den of squalor.

Normally, a stallion as excellently bred and virtuous as Prince Blueblood would rather jump off the side of Mount Caelestis than set one hoof in such a filthy place. Yet, he found himself drawn to the club anyway, as it offered him a unique opportunity to humiliate ponies in public without any consequences.

Striding into the club like he owned the place, Blueblood paid no heed to the array of lower-class ponies who looked at him with surprise, mistrust, and envy. Following in his hoofsteps were three armored stallions of his personal guard, as well as a beleaguered servant mare who dragged two large produce crates behind her.

The inside of the Comedy Club served as something of a counterpoint to the old saying, 'don't judge a book by its cover'. It was even more fetid and revolting than the exterior would have suggested, with refuse piles and vagrants lining the dimly lit main chamber. A rickety, mold-flecked stage wobbled precariously in the center of it all, surrounded by a haphazard cluster of benches and chairs. Over half were already occupied with rowdy, inebriated peasants, shouting loudly amongst themselves as they waited impatiently for the show to begin.

As he looked over the mass of serfs, Blueblood noticed a familiar stallion who was sitting alone on a nearby bench. Dressed in an impeccable business suit and sporting a well-groomed beard, he was perhaps the only pony in the club who came close to looking as out of place as the Prince did.

Blueblood sat down next to the stallion, a smile growing subtly on his face. The servant mare dutifully set the two crates down at the Prince's side, while his guards took up defensive positions around both of them. The other stallion didn't notice at first, too engrossed in watching a young mare across the room as she argued with the club's manager.

Blueblood tapped him on the shoulder, finally getting his attention. Startled, the stallion turned to look at him with an expression of irritation, which evaporated as soon as he recognized the Prince.

"Prince Blueblood? It has certainly been a Diamond Dog's age since I last saw you. I must say, I never would have expected to find you in a place as... disreputable... as this."

Blueblood chuckled good-naturedly.

"I might say the same about you, you know. What could bring the venerable Boss Tawleed all the way from Manehattan, I wonder? I assume you didn't come just to watch a few bad comedians and ogle the fairer sex."

Tawleed laughed as he stroked his beard.

"Oh, no. That mare over there? She's beautiful, no doubt, but this is about business. That is none other than Helia the Corsair, terror of all ports from Trottingham to Los Pegasus. She made off with some very valuable cargo of mine a while back, and I'm here to, ahem... convince her to return it."

Blueblood nodded, eyeing the distant mare with mild interest.

"I've heard of her. Is it true that she takes no prisoners, and dines on the flesh of her enemies?"

Tawleed shrugged.

"Possibly, but I doubt it. Pirates are rather fond of embellishment, you know."

"Yes, indeed they are..."

A friendly silence developed between the two as Tawleed continued watching Helia and Blueblood hefted one of the rotten tomatoes in his hooves. Heckling comedians with expired produce and running into an old friend? It was going to be a good night, that was for sure.

The Last Straw

Princess Celestia awoke at an early hour, as per usual. Unlike all the other inhabitants of Equestria and the lands beyond, she did not have the luxury of relying on the Sun as an alarm clock. Still, enough riots and coup attempts in her younger years had long before established the necessity of awaking early.

That did not mean she enjoyed it, though.

Grumbling to herself as she shuffled out from under the covers of Her Most Royal Mattress, she irritably walked down the mostly deserted castle hallways until she came to her sister's personal quarters. She promptly trotted inside, brushing aside the half-open door.

Following her own schedule, Princess Luna busied herself with coaxing the Moon down from its daily period of dominance over the sky, humming the tune of a recent popular song as she did so. Celestia shook her head silently, smiling in amusement. It seemed that even the mighty Princess of the Night was not immune from the ear worms of the legendary Whinny Hendrix.

"Good morning, Luna."

It had been entirely - or rather, mostly - unintentional, but Celestia's greeting startled her sister considerably. She jumped a full two feet into the air, letting out an adorable 'Eep!' as she did so. She quickly turned around to face her older sister, glaring at her with a look that would have perhaps been fearsome if her cheeks hadn't been bright red with embarrassment.

"Tia!!! You know I don't like it when you sneak up on me! Gah, I swear sometimes that you do this kind of thing on purpose..."

Celestia gave an innocent shrug, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Oh, no. I would never do such a thing to my little Woomsies."

Celestia's use of the irritating pet name - one of many in her arsenal - caused Luna to snort with almost instinctive revulsion.

"Woomsies? WOOMSIES!? I am not some manner of small fluffy creature that you can call by cute names, Celestia!"

Realizing that Luna was actually getting angry at being played with, Celestia stopped her teasing in favor of giving her a sisterly nuzzle. Luna's indignation slowly melted away, until she looked up at her with a gentle smile.

"Hey, Tia?"

Celestia looked at her curiously.

"Yes?"

In an otherwise soft and friendly tone, and still smiling innocuously, Luna replied.

"I'm going to get you back someday, Sunbutt."

Several hours later, after Luna had retired for the day and Celestia had undertaken the now quite mundane labor of raising the Sun, the venerable Princess found herself sitting at the head of the castle's dinner table with only the most vague of memories as to how she had gotten there.

Shaking her head blearily, Celestia tried to guess from context as to what she was currently supposed to be doing. She noticed that there were several other guests at her table, presumably there for some kind of diplomatic meeting. She quickly recognized Fancypants and the magnificently bearded Caliph of Mareocco. To her dismay, she also recognized the petulant features of her most unfavored relative, Prince Blueblood, who sat across from the two.

Celestia rolled her eyes as she mused to herself.

"Why in my name is he here?"

It was only after Fancypants cleared his throat in a very deliberate manner that Celestia realized she had just been asked a question.

"Princess, did you hear me? I asked you about your take on the Caliph's concerns."

Celestia stared back at him with a dopey expression for a few moments before shaking her head profusely, as if trying to fight off a particularly stubborn infestation of mane lice.

"I am... terribly sorry. I must have drifted off there. Could you repeat the question?"

Fancypants seemed a little bemused by her lack of attentiveness, but carried on regardless.

"Very well. The Caliph is interested in an artifact called the Black Stone. It is greatly revered in his homeland, but has been lost to them for generations. Recently, however, his sources were able to discern the stone's location."

Celestia stifled a yawn.

"Yes? Where might it be?"

Fancypants exchanged an awkward glance with the Caliph, who quickly spoke up. His accent was heavy and somewhat difficult to understand, but the righteous indignation in his voice was nonetheless clearly evident.

"Your worthless nephew has used it to decorate his lavatory!"

Celestia's eyes widened in surprise. She had definitely not expected that. Before she could formulate an appropriate response, however, Prince Blueblood replied to the accusation, his tone laced with condescending pomposity.

"I beg your pardon? I am far from 'worthless'. I am one of the most important nobles in the entirety of Equestria, and you would do well to show me the respect I deserve! And besides, if you wanted to keep your precious stone so badly, perhaps you sand-nags shouldn't have lost it in the first place, hmm?"

The Caliph stood up from his chair, his beard swaying wildly as he pulled a jeweled scimitar out from under his robes and pointed it across the table at the offending stallion. The tip of the blade only avoided piercing Blueblood's arrogant neck by a few scant centimeters, but it was still enough to make him scream in girlish fear and fall back out of his chair, smacking into the wall behind him with an undignified clunk.

"You ignorant barbarian! I will not let you insult my people like this!"

The Caliph leaped across the dining table, displaying surprising agility for such an elderly stallion. He landed in front of Blueblood, hefting his scimitar in preparation to execute the sniveling prince. However, when he attempted to move his arm to deliver the killing blow, he found that he could no longer move at all. Instead, his entire body was encased in a thin, shimmering field of magic.

"That's quite enough."

Celestia's calm, motherly voice belied the deep sense of irritation she felt at having to play babysitter between two of the most powerful ponies in the land. Getting up from her seat and trotting over to the two, she suppressed the urge to sigh.

"My dear Caliph, while I sympathize with your grievances against my nephew, this is not the way to go about correcting them. We can, and we will, solve this dispute without bloodshed. Now please, calm yourself."

The old stallion cursed under his breath.

"Fine, we'll do this your way. Release me."

Celestia obliged, gently dropping the Caliph back onto the floor. He dutifully sheathed his blade, giving Blueblood an icy glare before sitting back down in his seat at the table.

Blueblood slowly got to his hooves, brushing himself off as he tried to hide just how humiliated he was. He and Celestia both returned to their seats, letting the table be overtaken by a brief silence before Blueblood awkwardly voiced a late reply to her previous statement.

"Uh, yes, of course. We must let cooler heads prevail, after all."

Celestia smiled at him politely.

"Blueblood? Shut up, please."

Shamed, the Prince wordlessly bowed his head. Meanwhile, Fancypants, who had remained a silent observer for most of the fracas, spoke up.

"Considering how much the Black Stone is clearly worth to the citizens of Mareocco, and... considering what exactly Blueblood has been using it for... I would suggest that Your Majesty consider removing the stone from the Prince's possession and granting it to the Caliph."

Celestia nodded.

"I agree. I will make the arrangements for the stone to be removed from Blueblood's lavatory and shipped to Mareocco at once."

Blueblood raised his head, clearly intent on trying to defend his property. However, thanks to Celestia's timely application of a magic field over his mouth, he was only able to make incoherent mumbling noises.

Ignoring Blueblood's struggles, the Caliph bowed his head graciously.

"I thank you, Princess. Your kindness will not be forgotten."

Celestia stood up from her chair, looking at both him and Fancypants.

"Now, I'm sure you both have many other important matters to attend to. And I must attend to my nephew."

The two stallions nodded, saying their goodbyes before leaving Celestia alone with Blueblood. She let out a deep, frustrated sigh as she appraised the Prince.

"I must admit, it confounds me that a descendant of Bucephalus could dishonor his legacy like this. You share your blood with one of the greatest warriors of all history, and this is what you have to show for it? Arrogance, spite, and no regard for the feelings of others?"

Blueblood tried to respond, but Celestia's magic still prevented him from doing so. Realizing this, she relented, allowing him to gasp for breath in a melodramatic fashion. She looked at him with bemusement.

"You are aware that my spell still allows you to breathe, right?"

Blueblood blushed awkwardly, scratching his mane with a hoof.

"Yes, of course I knew that! Why would you ever think I didn't?"

The Princess of the Sun strongly resisted the urge to smack her head into the dining table.

"Perish the thought. Now, we need to talk about your conduct in the meeting just now."

Blueblood made his trademark pouty face.

"It is not my fault that the Caliph acted like a complete barbarian. And I cannot believe you actually let that scruffy sand-nag run off with the stone! It was the centerpiece of my bathroom experience!"

Without uttering a word, Celestia slapped him across the face. It wasn't particularly painful, but being physically hit by one of the most powerful beings in the known world tended to have an effect regardless. Blueblood gaped at her in dumbfounded shock, barely able to comprehend what she had just done.

"Auntie... you... you hit me..."

Celestia recognized what was about to happen, and quickly turned away to avoid being blinded by the veritable geyser of tears that came pouring out of Blueblood's eyes, as if a Breezie had just pulled the fire alarm inside of his head.

Rolling her eyes and breathing in deeply, the Princess endured through her nephew's long and overblown sobbing fit, refusing to even look at him. Finally, seeming to realize that he wouldn't be able to manipulate her so easily, he stopped.

"Okay, fine, what do you want from me? What am I supposed to do to please you this time? Donate to charity? Kiss a few foals for the evening paper? Now that I can do."

Celestia slowly turned back to him, a disappointed frown creasing her face.

"I'm not interested in pointless publicity posturing, Prince. I want you to truly understand the error of your ways, and to change for the better. I want you to seek counseling."

Blueblood snickered, his reply laced with snide contempt.

"Of course, Auntie, I will do whatever you say. Send me to those six washed up sycophants you have instead of a proper army, and teach me the 'magic of friendship' so I can get back to my spa treatments."

Celestia moved in closer to him, gazing deeply into his eyes in a way that made him inwardly shudder.

"You will not get out of this, Blueblood. I have had far more than enough with your behavior. If you aren't able to shape up within a year's time, I am revoking your nobility status. You will be reduced to the rank of a commoner, with nothing to your name except the marks on your rump."

He gulped fearfully.

"You... you wouldn't!"

A glint of sadistic enjoyment flickered in her eyes as she responded.

"Oh, yes... yes, I would. And before you think you can simply lie your way out of this, keep in mind that I am no foal. I am not sending you to Twilight or her friends, nor am I going to entrust your treatment to just any mere counselor. No, such an advanced case requires a true expert."

Blueblood whimpered, his eyes quivering in terror.

"W-who?"

A grin slowly began creeping across Celestia's face.

"Oh, that's a surprise. Trust me, though, you won't soon forget him..."