With Varying Amounts Of Success
Discord trailed behind Princess Celestia only a few paces in the marketplace. It was early morning Sunday—their weekly “friendship session” together—and Celestia had decided to spend that time picking up a few things around Canterlot.
“Celestia? Ever thought about building a waterpark around here? I swear this heat—”
The air in Discord’s chest huffed out in a hurry as his torso collided with Celestia’s rump. She had suddenly come to a halt in the middle of the street while he hadn’t been looking.
A greasy grin formed on Discord’s lips. “My dear Celestia. You know you only had to ask.” He gave the cutie mark on her butt a quick flick with a finger. “But in front of so many ponies? All right. Have it your way. I’ve always been up for a challenge. Hope someone’s taking notes, though, because I do not do encores—”
Celestia kicked him square in the ribs with a back leg, sending him shooting across the marketplace and onto a fruit stand overloaded with blueberries and dark plums, effortlessly crushing them all.
Discord wheezed out a laugh, before snapping himself whole and uninjured beside her again. “Merely jesting, Celestia. Wouldn’t want to put all those guards of yours out a job, would I?”
Celestia stared daggers at him, then returned her attention to the stallion kneeling in front of her. She told him politely, “Thank you, Mr. Oats. I appreciate the beautiful gift and will share it with my sister as soon as I can. Of that, you have my word.”
Discord hooked a thumb toward the kneeling stallion. “What’s his problem? You been kicking ponies in the shins again, Celestia? I warned you about that.”
“Mr. Oats here was simply offering Luna and I a very nice fruit basket. He owns a stall here that specializes in fruits and vegetables and the like.”
Discord took a faint glance at the near-bursting fruit basket on the ground. “Oooooookay! So where’s mine?”
“Where’s your what?” Celestia asked.
“My fruit basket, of course! If you got one then I should get one, correct? Isn’t that how this works?”
Timidly, Mr. Oats looked up at him. “But why would you get one? I mean no offense, Mr. Discord, but… well… without Princess Celestia’s sun, we wouldn’t have the bountiful harvests like we do. And without Princess Luna’s serene night and stars, no pony would sleep and dream and gain the energy required to work the following day.”
Discord crossed both arms over his chest and tapped a single foot against the dirt. “So what are you saying? That I’m not good enough for one of your stupid gift baskets? I’m a Lord for Pete’s sake! Or a Spirit. I honestly can’t remember which one I’m going by at the moment, but regardless! I want to feel entitled, damn it! I want to feel appreciated! And most importantly: I want free stuff and I want it now!”
While Discord berated him, Mr. Oats covered his ears and shied away. When Discord finally shut his trap, Mr. Oats hurriedly trotted back to his market stall to grab the closest thing at hoof. Which ended up being a ripe tomato.
Discord inspected the offered gift in his paw and nodded a single time. “Yes, this will do nicely. I’ve always loved the standard tomato. Fruit? Vegetable? It’s very existence proves chaotic.” He grinned widely. “And you know what else I like?”
“What’s that, Mr. Discord?” Mr. Oats asked.
Discord lobbed the tomato high into the air. When it finally came down, it landed directly atop Mr. Oats’ stall, spraying juice and bits of skin all around.
“The splat sound they make!” Discord held his paw out to Mr. Oats. “Can I have another one, please?”
“But you’ll just throw it against my stall again.”
Discord grumbled. “Curses! He’s not a complete idiot.”
“And I think we’re just about done here.” Using her horn, Celestia grabbed a few rags and tidied up whatever mess Discord’s thrown tomato had caused. With that finished, she grabbed hold of her gift basket and continued up the street as if nothing was wrong… until another pony ran in front of her to bow gracefully.
“Thank you so much for such a wonderful day, Princess!” the mare exclaimed. “Would you care for some fresh roses for the castle? I picked them just for you this morning!”
Celestia’s shoulders slumped. “So close. And here it comes…”
“That’s it! That’s about all I can take!” Discord screamed, holding a rather important looking finger toward the sky. “Why should these Princesses get special treatment while no one else does? I like free stuff! I like being worshipped and groveled to! I like receiving humorous Heart’s Warming Eve cards around the holidays! Sure I do! Ask anyone!”
He narrowed his eyes toward Celestia. In return, she only sighed and muttered, “This won’t end until he gets a free fruit basket, will it?”
Discord ignored her and continued with his rant. “Let it be known that I’m mad as Tartarus, and I’m not going to take it anymore! Why, I’m gonna start a cult of my own! A Cult of Chaos! One with way bigger fruit baskets than Celestia’s! No cantaloupe allowed!”
And Discord knew exactly where to find the members to join.
***
“Name, please?”
“Mr. Good Pony.”
The receptionist stared at Discord blankly. The lobby of Ponyville’s only mental institution was kept humid and bright, making the seven-foot-long trench coat Discord wore than much weirder to behold. As did the fake mustache and sunglasses he had on.
“And you’re here to…?” the receptionist asked.
“Take some patients out for a leisurely stroll.”
The receptionist grabbed a clipboard. “Which patients? And are you related to them?”
Discord flashed her his sharp teeth. “I’ve come to collect all of them, actually. I’m their deadbeat father that left shortly after they were born. Repeatedly! Don’t see the family resemblance?”
Again, the receptionist stared at him deadpan. “Then I guess they got their looks from their mothers’ side.” She left her chair. “Hold on a moment. I’ll go unlock the doors.”
Discord had to hide a loud snort with a hand. “Seriously? No… papers I have to sign? No precautions at all?”
The receptionist cocked a brow. “You kidding me? With no patients here, that means I get to leave early.”
Ten minutes later, Discord finally got the thirty-one patients stationed at the mental institute on the lawn outside and formed more-or-less in a row. While some patients drooled where they stood, others pleasantly ate hooffuls of grass or attempted to climb the nearest tree with varied success. One of them picked a fight with a pink butterfly and lost.
“All right, ponies!” Discord announced. “You are all about to become the first privileged members of my cult! Meaning that from now on you don’t thank Celestia or Luna for working a full fifteen seconds a day. You will instead thank me for making your lives that much more chaotic and therefore interesting!” He paused, lowering his voice. “And, you know, tell your friends and the like. I’m a cool dude, all right?”
A unicorn filly from the row of patients trotted forth, a tattered bit of parchment in hoof. She asked him, “Are you really my daddy? Because you don’t look all that much like him.”
Discord rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly, little one. Of course I’m your dad! I just happened to get into an accident since the last time I saw you that made me ten times more handsome than before.”
The filly’s eyes went from Discord’s mismatched horns, down to his mismatched hands, and finally down to his mismatched bipedal legs. She nodded happily. “Okay. I drew you a picture, by the way. While you were getting everyone organized outside…”
“Let me see that!” Discord snatched the picture she held and studied it. “Let’s see here… tree… tree… bush… that might actually be a shrub now that I look at it closer… some weird squiggle monster—” He glanced at her. “That’s not supposed to be me, is it?”
She nodded.
“How in Equestria is that me? You didn’t even get my cheekbones right! And… and… what color did you use on my coat? Is that hazelnut brown?”
Again, she nodded.
“It’s chestnut brown, you moron! Everyone knows that!” He focused on another part of the drawing. “And why is the sun in the corner of the picture smiling down at me? Since when do suns even have faces? Happy faces with cool looking shades? What are you? Insane?”
“That what my doctor tells me.” She lightly tapped the bright smiling sun on her picture. “And the sun’s just happy to be there because it gets to warm everyone up and watch as they play!”
Discord held up his claws to count on. “First off: the sun doesn’t actually have a face. And I’m sure that even if it did, smiling would the last thing on its mind. Considering it’s on fire! Most likely it would spend all day screaming instead!” He shot out another claw. “Secondly: the sun is actually controlled by an overrated white alicorn. So not only would the sun be in terrible—horrifying—agony if it had a face, it would also be pissed off all the time because everyone was thanking Celestia for its warm rays and not it!”
The filly used her horn to snatch her picture back. “So you don’t want my picture? Not even to hang up on the fridge?”
Discord waved a hand. “I wouldn’t hang that on the side of an outhouse.”
The filly’s eyes began to shimmer as her lower lip jutted out. “You’re the worst imaginary friend I’ve ever had! Meanest, too!”
Angrily, Discord reached into a makeshift pocket on his leg, pulling out a giant golden sticker in the shape of a star. “Fine! Nice job! Good work! Best artwork I’ve seen since my morning bowl of cereal! Here: gold star! Ten out of ten! Fifteen out of fourteen! Whatever you want!”
Then he slapped the ginormous sticker over her drawing, completely covering ninety percent of it. The little filly seemed not to mind, though, as she quickly began jumping up and down on the spot.
Discord painfully raked his claws down his face. While he’d been busy conversing with the filly, another half-dozen prospective “members” of his cult had been properly spooked and/or beaten by the same pink butterfly from before. It was clear these ponies wouldn’t be up to the job at hoof.
“These ponies are all useless!” Discord trumpeted. “Time for Plan B!”
“Who’re you yelling at?” the filly asked him curiously.
Discord tapped at his chin. “No idea. But I really must depart before my good name is besmirched any further.”
With that said, Discord yanked out an empty balloon from his nose that he then filled up with his own burps, only after chugging down an entire two litre of soda. As the balloon rose up into the air, he held onto the attached string and went up, up, and away.
“Arrivederci, weirdos!” Discord called back.
Sadly, not a single pony would go on to believe any of the patients’ wild story involving an irritable, art-critiquing draconequus that traveled the skies with the aid of his belch-powered balloon.
***
“Is this the place?” the second stallion that arrived asked, after tentatively sticking his head into the room.
Discord, currently perched on his elaborate throne and lit by only a single harsh light from above, greeted him with a toothy sneer. “It is, my good stallion. It is indeed. A house of chaos and mischief aplenty.”
“Oh.” The stallion’s ears fell flat. “I guess this isn’t the right place, then. I was looking for free cake, actually. Some pony’s been sticking a bunch of flyers around town saying that if ponies attended some meeting of theirs, they’d get—”
“Free cake?” Discord finished for him snidely. “Yes, this is actually that place.”
The stallion viewed the throne underneath Discord made entirely out of bleached bones; the few slumbering bats that hung upside-down from the throne’s armrests. “If I’m being honest here, this doesn’t seem like the type of place that would be giving out free cake.”
“I assure you there will be cake.” Discord used a claw to motion to the table pushed against the wall loaded with numerous cakes and pastries. “But first you must join my Cult of Chaos and swear your life over to me! And then worship me like a Princess!”
“So you’re a Princess now?” the stallion asked. “I guess that would explain the wings and the horns—the weird hairdo, too.”
Discord stomped a hoof. “Like a Princess, you nitwit! To you, I will be Lord! Lord Discord! Ruler of all things chaotic and fun! And anything with marshmallow in the middle!”
The stallion by the door took a few cautious steps inside the room. “So if I join your group that means I get free cake?” He shrugged absently. “I’ve done a lot worse for less. Can’t be any worse than that timeshare I got tricked into.” He then scurried toward the table full of cakes.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Discord quickly snapped the stallion to the rickety chair before his throne. Next to him sat another young stallion that had come there in search of free cake.
Discord told them both, “We will only eat once our Cult of Chaos meeting has come to a close. So says Rule 34 in your Cult of Chaos Codebook.”
The second stallion nudged the first one in the ribs. “Awful lot of rules for a cult focused on chaos, wouldn’t you agree?”
Abruptly, Discord shot forward on his throne. “What was that? Care to share that little nugget of wisdom with the rest of us?”
“All I said was—”
Before he could say anymore, Discord snapped his fingers again, sealing the stallion’s mouth closed with a zipper. With that out of the way, Discord began marching across the room with both arms laced behind his back.
“It seems my suspicions have been realized; that only the nastiest of ponies would dare go searching for free cake without first knowing what flavor it would be. I knew using free cake as bait would work! But, before we get started, let this be understood. We shall not become friends here; we shall not become comrades. You will find no similarities to the Elements of Harmony inside my Cult of Chaos. Instead, we shall form a group of likeminded ponies; full of individuals with common interests and who enjoy spending time with one another and having fun together. Perhaps, even one-day learning to care about one another, and discovering what makes us special in our own unique ways.”
The stallion that had spoken earlier managed to unzip his lips. “That sounds an awful lot like friendship, bro!”
Again, Discord snapped his fingers, turning the zipper covering the stallion’s mouth into a yellow duck’s beak. “Cult of Chaos Codebook Rule 21: Raise your hoof before adding to the discussion.”
Begrudgingly, the stallion quacked a single time before becoming silent.
Discord cleared his throat. “As I was saying… Rule 11: If someone should happen to bring gum to a group meeting—”
The door to the room popped open again and a stallion in mid-whistle strolled inward. His merry tune died the moment he took notice of Discord and the others. “Oh, sorry. I thought this was the bathroom to the Vegetable Grill restaurant.”
Discord brightened at once and snapped himself next to his latest addition, wrapping an elastic arm around him. “And right you are! Because, technically, this is the bathroom to the Vegetable Grill.” He then said more to himself, “The only place anyone would even let me hold my chaos meetings!”
He plunked the third stallion on another rickety chair. “Someone get this pony a leaflet on the Cult of Chaos!”
The first stallion handed over a small booklet with the title “13 EASY STEPS TO PROPER CHAOS CREATION.” And below that: “Putting the U back in CULT since earlier this morning!”
“Thanks?” the last stallion said uneasily. “But I still need to use the bathroom.”
Discord snapped his claws. “Not anymore.”
The stallion shuddered on the spot. “Well, that was a weird sensation. What did you even do with it?”
“No idea!” Discord answered, choosing to ignore the sudden splash and accompanying shrieks from the street outside the window. He began marching across the cramped bathroom again. “First thing’s first. What makes each of you believe you are worthy of joining my cult? Of worshipping me day-in and day-out?” He pointed to the first stallion. “You! What interests do you hold?”
“I like watching buildings fall over,” the pony answered earnestly. “The rubble. The rising plumes of dirt. The seemingly endless sounds the buildings make as they come to rest.”
Discord smacked his cheeks with both hands. “Oh, yes! Yes! That’s more like it! Pray tell, my good pony. What was your former job before devoting your entire existence over to me?”
“I was a crane operator. I used to take down old dilapidated buildings ponies couldn’t live in anymore. I guess I should’ve said I like watching buildings safely fall over.”
“Yes, you should’ve.” Discord had to stop himself from biting his tongue in half. “Moving on. You! Duck lips! What do your hobbies include?”
Discord removed the duck beak so the stallion could speak. He wiped at his mouth before starting. “I know it might sound kinda odd, but I always enjoyed setting things on fire.”
“That doesn’t sound odd at all!” Discord reassured him happily. “Pyromania is completely normal! And cool, too! Not temperature wise, but… you know what I mean. What sorts of things do you like setting ablaze? Schools? Castles? Alicorn fruit baskets?”
The stallion shook his head. “Nothing like that. More… candles. Logs in fireplaces. Stoves. Bunsen burners. Incense sticks. Fireworks. Tobacco pipes if someone needs theirs lit. I don’t smoke, but I know it’s the polite thing to do.”
“So you only torch things that are meant to be on fire?”
“More or less.”
Discord forcefully slugged himself in the face, before he grabbed his own copy of the Cult of Chaos Codebook to hurriedly scribble in. “New rule! Every time your Lord and Ruler hits himself in the head due to complete stupidity, you’re all to do the same. Understand? I’m sure eventually I can slap the stupid out of you three. Might take an eternity or two, but I’m willing if you are.”
The second stallion raised a hoof. “Is it time for cake yet?”
Discord sighed miserably. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. Knock yourselves out.”
As his three disciples helped themselves to cake alongside some blood-red punch, Discord went completely limp on his throne and slid to the floor. This whole cult thing wasn’t working as smooth as he thought it might.
With a face covered in frosting, the crane operator pony asked him, “What do we call ourselves, by the way? Is there a group name I don’t know about?”
“The Followers of Discord, obviously,” Discord said tiredly.
The stallion scrunched his nose. “So we’d be FODs? Doesn’t really roll off the tongue. What else could we be called?”
It only took Discord a moment until it came to him.
***
Mary stood beside the window of her home, ushering her husband over to her with a hoof. “Barry, come quick! There’s a bunch of DICs on our lawn!”
Her husband did a double take. “A bunch of what?”
“Disciples In Chaos. It’s that new group Discord’s been putting together.”
Barry opened the curtains covering the window to look outside. Out on his lawn stood at least two dozen ponies clad in dirty brown cloaks, holding lit torches. Also several hundred leaflets on the Cult of Chaos.
One of them stood directly atop Barry’s favorite flower patch, smooshing them into the dirt.
“What a DIC!” Barry blurted out.
Another cloaked cult member randomly appeared in front of their window. He softly knocked on the glass. “Do you have time to talk about our Lord of Destruction Discord the draconequus? I’ll only need a few minutes of your time.”
Barry pulled his wife away from the window. “We’re surrounded, Mary! Whatever you do, don’t open the…” His words died in his throat as he noticed his son standing in their house’s foyer, the front door left wide open. He called to him, “Sugar Lump? What are you doing? Get away from there!”
The small colt remained fixed on the cloaked figures standing on the porch. “Daddy, these ponies say if I join them I’ll never have to do homework again! And that I could eat ice cream all day long and never be told when to go to bed!”
Barry rushed toward his son. “Don’t look at them, Sugar Lump! Don’t get influenced by their… oh my Celestia! Sugar Lump! No!”
But it was too late. Sugar Lump had already taken one of their leaflets and was busy listening intently to their spiel. He was wholly theirs the moment they mentioned the group’s chocolate milk waterfall.
***
It had taken over an hour, but Discord finally thought he had his new throne just where he wanted it; right where Celestia and Luna’s thrones used to be. He perched himself on his comfy chair and glared down at his two fallen enemies.
Surrounding both kneeling Princesses was a large and energetic gang of colts and fillies dressed in cloaks, some with forks and knives and a few (that Discord hadn’t trusted so much) given spoons instead.
“How long do you expect this to last, Discord?” Celestia asked him sharply. “Twilight and Cadence are already on their way, and when they arrive your game will be through. This cult of yours was never meant to last.”
Upon reflection, Discord should’ve gone the foal route from the very start. They did have a lot in common. An absurd love of all things sugary and sweet. A complete hatred in following the rules. And best of all? Not a single guard nor Princess would dare strike down such an innocent and adorable little foal.
That was how they took over the castle to begin with…
“These foals will need to sleep eventually,” Luna added beside her sister, “and after they are returned home, you will lose the only advantage you have. So stop this foolishness now!”
“Sleep?” Discord barked. “Bah! Sleep is for the weak! Who needs sleep when I have endless amounts of this?” He reached underneath his throne and returned with a large pull-string sack. From it he dumped out a handful of white powder which he promptly inhaled up his nose.
He ran a paw underneath his powder-caked snout and twitched. “Oh, yeah! That’s the stuff!”
Celestia looked aghast. “Discord! Is that what I think it is? You can’t give that to foals!”
Discord shrugged, then took another hit. “What? Powdered sugar?”
“Oh.” Celestia relaxed a tad. “Well, regardless, that still can’t be good for them.”
“Only you know how this ends, Celestia!” Discord roared. “Give me what I want and I will be on my way! I only did all this to prove a point, mind you!”
Luna turned to her sister. “What in Equestria does he mean? Does he want our magic, Celestia? Our crowns?”
Celestia gritted her teeth. “Something much stupider, I’m inclined to believe.” She stared at Discord humorlessly. “You want a free fruit basket, don’t you?”
“I want two free fruit baskets,” Discord corrected. “Every Sunday until the end of time.”
Celestia sighed. “Fine. But I can’t promise half of it won’t contain cantaloupe or honeydew.”
Discord snorted. “That’s fine. I don’t even like fruit.”
Author's Note
I have no explanation for this one. I've obviously been snorting too much powdered sugar lately. Or not nearly enough.
Next story should be weirder, so have no fears. 
