Not a Princess

by Soitanly Soix

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Comedy, Thriller
Length: 2412

A recounting of Princess Celestia's life, straight from her flesh-mouth to a Royal Bureau of Investigation agent's tape recorder.

Takes place shortly after Season 3.

When you get caught killing several ponies in cold blood, it doesn't matter if you're the god emperor of ponykind. No amount of political immunity and 'I swear, they're just Nightmare Night props!' can save you when you're caught with a wheelbarrow full of pony corpses, a scalpel, and a sizable amount of bloody surgical gloves. You're going to be in ultimate jail for awhile, and you're probably going to get the chair/guillotine/noose/injection after a short visit to the royal courtroom.

This is the case with Princess Celestia. After a series of PR disasters involving a magazine exposing her rather scandalous lifestyle, she attempts to cover everything up through a series of well-placed murders. This doesn't work out so well in her favor, as she is caught trying to get rid of the corpses with a wheelbarrow, a scalpal, and a sizable amount of bloody surgical gloves.

This is more than enough for the Royal Bureau of Investigation to get her tried and legally killed in front of her loved ones, but Commissioner Blue Fury wants to see if she can pry a motive out of her. Not many ponies were expecting their fair leader to be a serial murderist, and even fewer know why. Obviously, she sends her husband Clippy Bottoms to do everything for her, because she has more important things to do, like watching reruns of Game of Game of Thrones Horse Puns and rubbing herself to that time she agreed to larping as furniture with her friends from Law School. Hey, don't judge, everypony's got their kinks!

Since Clippy's last meeting with the Royal Stabbiness went all kinds of horrible, he decides to remove more of the polite words from his tried and tested nonexistant-psychotic-princess-god-interrogation phrases and replace them with rude ones. After some rather rough exchanges and a tramautizing medical emergency, he not only gets a reason for everything that led to her getting caught with the bodies and a confession of literally every crime she's ever commited ever, he gets an extraordinary entertaining recounting of Sunbutt's entire immortal life. There's actually a lot more stabbing, profanity, and explosions in Celestia's past than most Haystory Channel documentaries would have you believe.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-22 01:50:01 UTC

The Part where Bad Things Happen

No sudden movements. Just keep calm and she won't notice you. Everything's fine, Clippy Bottoms. If you can just make it to your office you can-

"Ayyyy, Clippy!"

This is the part where bad things happened. Internally screaming all the way, I turned to greet my boss. My amber-maned, terrifying, Pegasi wife-boss. She had the kind of smirk you'd see on the face of a mugger after you step into his or her alleyway.

"Hey, Fury! Good to see you on this fine eternal night!" I replied. It’s kind of difficult for Celestia to magically raise the sun when she's in an indestructible cell with an anti-magically-raise-the-sun-horn-ring attached to her horn, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that I hadn’t seen daylight in a week. Kind of invalidates that whole Nightmare Moon adventure those six ponies had, come to think about it. The planet hasn't exploded though, at least not yet.

"I'm doing fine, thanks for asking. Hey Clip, do you think you could try grilling some information out of Celestia for me again? I'd really appreciate it," she said politely. I really wanted to say no in response to this.

"No."

"Oh, but Clippy, I was really looking forward to our date tonight. I guess I'll just have to cancel the reservations. You, see they charge extra gratuity fees for parties of one bitch or more," she said patronizingly. "Tsk tsk. How disappointing. Oh, and you're going to interrogate Celestia anyways. Because I told you to." I ought to mention, it's required by law that every stallion partake in polygamous marriage because of gender ratios. If you don't do this eventually, you'll be forced to pick a mare on the spot.

I chose the pony who came to arrest me. I'm not sure I've made a bigger mistake in my entire life.

"Can I just not do that and say I did?"

"If you kiss my hoof and say you love me," she said, mugger smirk intensifying.

"What?"

"I didn't stutter Clippy. My hoof's getting more and more kissless by the second!" She raised her hoof out directly in front of herself.

"With all due respect ma-am, I'm not kissing your hoof after you had just used it to touch yourself four and a half minutes ago," I said without any hint of respect for her in my voice.

"Come on! You know you want to! I ate pomegranates for breakfast, so it might actually taste sweet!" I'm not sure if she was joking or if she specifically bought and ate pomergranates this morning for this sort of occasion.

"I'd rather get crushed by a trash compactor and pull the fragments of my spine out of my disfigured rectum at ninth the speed of time than make any sort of physical contact with you."

"If you do this for me, I promise you won't ever have to sit behind a table in the same room as Celestia ever again. I swear on me mum. This is not a trick." Fury's terrifying grin almost looked like it had a sense of genuine assurance at this point.

Now, I don't condone degrading yourself in order to avoid work.

But I did it anyways. I really, really did not want to talk to Celestia again.

"And that," I explained to Celestia, "is why she removed my chair from the room and why the table I laid my paperwork on is now my second wife's arguably medium sized nightstand."

"Wow," she said quietly through the microphone built into her hardglass cell wall, "savage."

"Savage as in the way you mutilated those innocent ponies, or savage as in when you called me a shit-devouring brick sucker?" I asked, glancing over the report on the nightstand. Gosh, there was a lot of gum sticking to the bottom of that thing.

"The latter. That hollow reaper of suffering you call your wife is a true legend. Can you call her over here?" I pinched my forehead. The best I could at least, what with my hooves being hooves and there being an ivory appendage attached to my noggin.

"For the last time Celestia, we're not taking off the negative magic inductor on your horn. She probably accidentally lost the key to it on purpose anyways. Stop asking." I wonder if my second wife talks to a therapist. I should ask her, I'm in desperate need of a shrink to explain to me why I hate existing so much.

"Oh, no, I don't need it removed. I do want somepony to take it off so I can disintergrate you at the speed of pain, but my interest in her being a part of this whole shibang is scientific. I want to see if you have a mental breakdown faster if we're all in the same area when I'm talking. Then I'll compare the data to the first test and see if the addition of another independent variable, your wife, has any effect on the controlled variables, you flipping the table and yelling. It's for a lesson in pony psychology I'll be presenting to Sparklebutt. Really, it has nothing to do with entertainment!" Celestia was biting her lips trying to hold back her own laughter.

"You're such a funny fucker, you know that? I'm practically busting my gut in response to your witty humor. You should quit being a princess and get a job where you're payed to be a cunt, you'd earn a fortune in no time," I replied.

"You should get a job where you're payed to be smarter than a doorstop with fecal matter stuck to it. You'd be fired instantaneously."

At this point I have had enough of her shit. I get enough stress from everything else in my life, I didn’t need the god-emperor of ponykind adding insult to brain aneurysm. It was time to negotiate, and stop dealing with the issue head on.

"Listen, Celestia, you know I really want you out of my life. I know you want me and all the other R.B.I. agents here out of your life as well," I said, placing my clipboard on what little space is left of the nightstand, "How about you confess to your incredibly long list of felonies and tell me why you committed them? I'll see if I can convince a few of my partners not to join the angry mob destined to surround this building and lynch you while you're being escorted to the courtroom. Maybe I'll even let you gallop around this excessively large room containing your cell for a few minutes on their way over, let ya stretch your legs a little before we put steel cuffs on them again. It'll give you a few more minutes to reflect on your past mistakes. Could ya do me a solid and confess? Confess so we can get on with our fucking lives? Please?"

"I could do that, sure." I breathed an audible sigh of relief. "But I require something in return. I still feel like I'm getting a raw deal, especially since I'm not gonna live to see the end of this week. You scratch my unmentionables, I'll scratch yours, eh?"

"I'll humor you by considering the offer that's about to come out of your mouth. But I'm gonna say no anyways,” I said dryly. Celestia looked a bit miffed by this retort.

“Do you want this over or not? For all you know I could of been framed by one of those Changeling fuckers. Maybe the Alicorn that’s standing in this indestructible glass holding cell in front of you isn’t even the real Princess Celestia, ever though of that? Maybe the real one's stuck in a gooey pod, decomposing in the mines underneath her own castle.”

My first wife described me as a stallion allergic to bullshit. Maybe allergic isn’t the right word, but I was quite tickled when Celestia herself gets desperate enough to pull the old 'I was framed by a Changeling card'.

“I mean maybe, yeah. I don't know for sure if you're Princess Celestia. We have the full signed reports from your bodyguards, both of whom take turns doing twenty-four hour shifts, follow you everywhere you go and sleep in the same room as you. We have samples of your bodily fluids that prove you're an Alicorn and not a Changeling. You also are talking like a coward who'll say and do whatever it takes to avoid her impending status as a member of death row. You’re also making my life a living hell, and I don’t have any reason to provide whatever asinine request you desire!” I felt a migraine coming on, which is pretty much how I feel every waking moment of my life, but this one was worse than usual.

"Look, shit stain!" Celestia eyes suddenly started glowing. The entirety of her eyes, they were fucking glowing. "I don't wanna be here any more than you do!" she screamed. I kinda figured she was unstable, but this took me by surprise.

"At least you get to eat dinner with your shrewd boss, go back to your lower middle-class house, relax and eat a meal that doesn't visinly move, and maybe, just maybe, you'll get to be on top for the first time in your dead marriage for getting me to admit to murder, destruction of government property, possession of illegal substances, treason, grand larceny, conspiring to murder my sister, committing a dine and dash at a five star restaurant, and many, many, many other crimes committed before this city was even built by slaves! Me? Me? Fuckin me!?”

I reeled back, as one might expect when you're faced with a godlike pony hovering a foot off the ground that's really, really pissed off.

"I'm gonna die. Fuckin. Die! Do you have any idea how I feel! Are you so blinded by your own ignorance that you can’t see the events that are occurring! A fucking god being executed by her own believers!”

I probably should of called the handlers at this point.

"I’m gonna be remembered as a serial killer, not a princess! I'm gonna be hung by my own subjects and buried in an unmarked grave in the artic so nopony can be reminded that I ever existed! I don't... I don't want that!" She was hyperventilating and starting to look a bit dizzy, either from exertion of magical powers or loss of carbon dioxide. I had to act, fast. I had to keep her from imploding or something disastrous like that.

"Celestia, calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself!" was the best effort I could put forth. Which never works by the way, don't tell ponies to calm down when they're pissed off.

"D-don't tell me to c-c-calm down you f-fucking piece of shit, you fucking little... little fucking..." Her eyes stopped glowing. She stumbled back onto the floor, nearly tripping onto the sink. "Oh, oh dear." She looked like she was spun around twelve times and asphyxiated till the color of her skin changed. "Oh, dear me. Shit." She dropped onto her side in the middle of her room, spasming on the floor. The convict that was just talking shit about me and my wife mere moments ago was having a stroke on the floor of her cell.

And the pony who called her a career cunt mere moments ago was rushing to get the door open and make sure she didn't die.

"Shit shit shit! Come on come on, where's the fucking key!?" I fumbled with the key ring a few times trying to get the door open. Hooves were getting sweaty. The third key worked. I pulled the bar over and slammed the door open. Celestia was still convulsing on the floor, so that meant she wasn't dead, at least not yet. I sprinted over to her. She was already on her side, so she wouldn't suffocate on the fluids.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much else I could do to help. There was nopony around for me to run to for help, no guards just outside the room. I just had to stand there and make sure she didn't get hurt anymore than she was. It was the only thing I could do as everything ran its course.

While this was all going on, I heard her slur some phrases out. Some odd things. Something about opulence, illustrations or something. I didn't make anything of it at the time, and was just hoping that the stroke would end soon.

God, this got dark as shit all of a sudden. Wow.

Eventually, after about a minute, Celestia stopped twitching. Her breathing slowed down to normal levels. She didn't die or anything, thank... Luna, I guess. I leaned down and checked her eyes. They were less hazy than they were before, and they were following my movement.

"Princess, I think you just had a stroke," I said to her. "Now, I'm not a doctor by any stretch, but I think I ought to check to see if you're paralyzed or something. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm gonna try my best. Don't try to talk. We'll communicate through me talking and you blinking. Blink twice if you can hear me."

She blinked twice.

"Do you feel numbness or pain in any part of your body? Blink three times if you do."

She blinked three times.

"Alright, fuck." I wiped the sweat from my forehead. Diagnosing Princess Celestia's physical condition just after she had a medical emergency is the opposite of what I wanted to spend my Tuesday doing. "Okay, so I'm gonna touch different parts of your body. Don't take that the wrong way; I just need to know if you can move something other than your face. Your head and everything up top feels fine, right? You can talk now."

"Get away from me." Her face was expressionless.

"Celestia I know this must be difficult--"

"Leave me alone." I continued talking.

"but I really need you to trust me right now because--"

"Fuck off."

"Stop it! You're acting like a foal! I know I'm the last damn pony you want to see after what just happened but I'm the only pony on this side of the building. I'm not gonna leave you here alone, so could you please just cooperate with me?"

"Okay. Fine." I sighed.

"Do any parts of your body feel numb?" She cleared her throat.

"Yes."