"Death-Defying Stunts Aren't Exactly Deadly."
It had been far too long since Ponyville went without a breathtaking performance that reduced the entire population to clapping, stomping, whooping and hollering. Like, at least a week. The triumphant return of former pariah, the Great and Powerful Trixie, was just what the doctor ordered. Well, actually, Doctor Stable was a hardcore Hoofdini purist, and the veterinarian was on vacation that week, but it's just an expression, okay?
Anyway, the townsfolk couldn't have asked for a better piece of quality entertainment, and Trixie couldn't have asked for a better comeback. The show had definitely gotten off to what she would call a rocky start, but with every trick she and Starlight grew more confident, more bold, and just generally more amazing. Far from the illusion-shattering show of humility she had planned for the tour, it had mutated into a two-mare show of stupendous magical ability, transforming parlor tricks into true magic and making illusions more convincing than reality.
After hours of awe-inducing performances, the two unicorns finally stumbled off of the stage. Trixie managed to just barely walk straight, the result of years of performing endless encores in the desperate hope of more bits, but Starlight was not so lucky. She had poured so much magic into every trick, it was a wonder her horn was even still attached to her head, much less that her legs could even pretend to work.
Depending on your side of the conflict, it was either the best of times or the worst of times for Equestria's latest dynamic duo to be ambushed by reporters for a local newspaper.
As Starlight began to lurch into a particularly nasty fall, there was the sudden flash of a camera. She jolted back, and the two sudden motions cancelled out and left her standing stiff in the middle of the road. Unfortunately the same burst of light made Trixie spring to the side, sending both mares tumbling to the dirt.
The camera flashed again, and they tried to blink away the glare long enough to get a bead on who it was that was snapping the pictures.
"Evening, ladies! Name's Featherweight, of the Foal Free Press! Think you could spare some time for a quick interview about your spectacular debut?"
It was the sort of voice that sounded like it could be punted over the horizon, a thin, reedy and altogether weak voice that reached deep down inside most ponies and flipped that switch labelled 'Disdain'. As some of the blurs faded from Trixie's vision, she noticed that the colt's body looked just as easy to abuse, as though the space between his front and back legs was perfectly designed to nestle her hoof as she punched him into the sky.
As she had been doing with most of Ponyville's residents, she tried desperately to remember if she had done anything horrible to him personally. He didn't look like he harbored a grudge, but then again, he was a child. Children were stupid and quick to forgive.
Meanwhile, Starlight hauled herself up into something resembling a sitting position, and gave her best tired impression of a smile. "Sure, we can answer a few questions."
Featherweight gave an eager smile that begged for its dreams to be crushed, and swung his camera over his shoulder while pulling out a notepad with his wing. "Well, first off, we've all been hearing a lot of different things about this tour you're going on. From hour to hour, nearly every word of the title has been swapped out for something else, and there've been a lot of ponies who interpret that as changes in motive. Now, we've all heard you go on about it being a working title, so instead I wanted to ask: What do you hope to accomplish with this tour?"
Trixie smiled faintly. "Well, my dear, the idea for this tour came about after a lot of my performances in other cities got... shall we say, lukewarm reception. No matter how many times I told ponies about my repentance, the best I could hope for was that they stopped throwing tomatoes at me. And while word of mouth may travel fast, bad news can get up to a full gallop before good news has woken up." Trixie managed to stand up, and she put a little more oomph into her smile. "A nation-wide tour explicitly dedicated to showcasing how humble and penitent I have become seemed like a much better idea than just waiting for the bad press to blow over."
"And so far, it looks like it's paying off." Featherweight stopped scribbling in his notebook and seemed to take one second too long to think of his next question. "So, uh, I don't know much about stage magic myself, but from what I hear, the Moonshot Manticore Mouth-Dive is usually reserved for a finale. Of course, you ladies were more than able to carry the performance, but it seems a bit of an unnecessary risk to open with such a showstopper. Could you maybe clue us in on why you decided to open with something that could so easily have made the rest of the show fall utterly flat?"
Trixie shivered a little at the reminder. The dive had been planned as a finale, and moving it up in the schedule wasn't something she wanted to be talking about right now. She took a deep breath, and was about to try and make something up when Starlight cut in.
"Well, the Moonshot Manticore Mouth-Dive is a trick usually performed by two ponies, and almost impossible to solo. Since we wanted my role as Trixie's assistant to come as a surprise," Starlight gave Trixie the most subtle wink she could give under the circumstances, "it was the obvious choice for our opener. Like most of my friend's performances, the stunt at first comes off as a very prideful move, almost like claiming she could do the impossible. But the panicked reaction, the brief moment of uncertainty, and the obvious battle damage as she emerged from the cabinet..." Starlight raised her hoof to her lips and blew a kiss to the sky, the way those annoying Prench always did when they wanted to be especially stuck up. "What better way to show the flawed nature of the Humble and Apologetic Trixie?"
Featherweight's fevered transcription seemed to be throwing up smoke from the notepad, but that was probably just the blurriness in Trixie's vision. She leaned into Starlight, giving her a brief nuzzle of appreciation. A crisis had been averted, and spun into good PR at that.
"It's interesting that you mention the panic." The colt's pencil scratching to a stop may as well have been a needle on a record player. "Now, since the whole Gabby Gums scandal, our paper isn't officially allowed to dabble in gossip." Featherweight grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "But then again, we're a paper exclusively staffed with impressionable kids with no adult supervision."
"What's your point, Featherweight?" There was an edge to Starlight's words there, a venom that Trixie found herself leaning away from just a little.
"It's right there in all the buzz. Everyone who's chattering about your return to form and your glorious show of growth is also talking about your opening act. An opening act where a sad, passionless pony whom the world at large has treated like dirt, tells the entire crowd that this trick was meant to be performed with an assistant they no longer have, and then shoots themselves at a hungry manticore, screaming in fear halfway through as they realize their mistake." The look he gave her was a strange breed of a glare and a leer. "What about it, Trixie? Was it an attempt to take your own life? There's a lot of ponies who'd really like some closure on that little detail."
Why did journalists always have to ask such loaded questions? Just once, Trixie would have loved to spend an interview answering banal questions about smoke and mirrors, or why it was rabbits that magicians were always pulling out of hats. She turned to Starlight for help, but whimpered a little as she saw questioning concern on the mare's face. This wasn't a question she could dodge easily, and she definitely didn't want to give a straight answer.
"I can assure you, young one, my partner was not in any danger."
Trixie turned to look at the new voice, and dared to smile in relief. The same horned manticore from the show had just wandered up behind them, dragging along a very bored-looking handler on the other end of a dangerously thin string. At least, that was what it looked like.
"Really?" Featherweight stared incredulously at the handler. "And what would you know about Trixie's emotional state tonight?"
"I didn't say anything about emotions," the manticore drawled. "I said she wasn't in danger, and that I know for a fact."
Featherweight stopped, and stared agog at the manticore. "But I... wait, you... what?"
The manticore chuckled, the way that a thunderstorm chuckles as it rolls into a valley. "Merlin the Marvelous Manticore, at your service." With a flick of his barbed tail, he produced a business card. "And speaking as the metaphorical knife onto which your readers believe my partner intended to throw herself, I can state without hesitation, deviation or exaggeration that there was no possibility of the Great and Powerful Trixie dying tonight."
Featherweight was still stumbling over his initial reaction, too dumbfounded to even be taking notes. "How are you talking?"
"With my mouth." Merlin grinned, his serrated teeth eliciting a giggle of mock terror from Starlight. "Listen, kid, you don't spend five years taking unicorn magic to the face without picking up a few mutations. And we're not here to talk about a glorified stagehand, are we? We're here to talk about Trixie."
"Uh, yes, right, of course." Featherweight recovered, and readied his pencil. "So, could you please elaborate on how there was no danger in being fired into your mouth?"
"I assume you were in the audience, small one."
"Well, yeah."
"Tell me, did I chew before swallowing?"
The colt's jaw dropped.
"In fact, and I'll tell you this one for free, I didn't even really swallow. Just a sleight of tongue, if you will. One good cough and she would have popped right back out. The biggest danger that would have been posed to Trixie might have been passing out, and even that would just be a massive anticlimax as I had to cough her out and call a medic."
Trixie made a mental note that she owed Merlin a stiff drink when this was over.
"But that doesn't really answer my original question," Featherweight countered. "You've said nothing that suggests Trixie was aware of these safety measures."
"Do you take me for a fool?" Trixie actually found herself grabbing the precocious child in her magic. "Are you really so hung up on how mopey I was that you'll assume I didn't triple-check all the safety procedures of the most dangerous stunt a stage magician can legally perform? I mean, I know you're just a kid, but you can't be this stupid."
Featherweight shrugged, and put on a smile so dopey that it was physically painful. "Like you said, just a kid. Guess I made a mistake. Misread the situation. My bad, ladies."
"Um, I'm a dude." Merlin just grinned when Trixie spun around to glare at him.
Once he managed to talk his way out of a magical death-grip, Featherweight disappeared over the hill in record time. Trixie slumped against Starlight, and tears started to well up behind her eyes.
"If I were you," she heard Merlin stage-whisper to Starlight, "I'd hold off on asking her about the truth. I think we all need some time to think this over."
Trixie felt Starlight nod, and smiled, just a little. "Thanks for the save, Merlin."
"Any time, Trixie."
Author's Note
Please tell me I'm not the only one who can just taste the quality gap between this topical view-grab and my usual fare.
My sincere apologies if you came into this hoping for something of substance.
