Ponyville Millionaire's Club

Chapters

I Have Several Questions
The Invitation
The Trial of the Cyphers

I Have Several Questions

Rarity almost didn’t recognize Filthy Rich. He wasn’t wearing his usual vest and tie, and his slick black hair was still covered by his cypher hat. However, there was nopony else Rarity knew of who had three moneybags for a cutie mark. In his present state, he looked positively ridiculous. He must take the Millionaire’s Club very seriously, if he’s willing to look like this. Next to him was Copper Coin, manager of the Ponyville Savings and Loan. She was a yellowish-brown unicorn with a curly brown mane. Rarity remembered Copper congratulating her on the day she deposited her millionth bit. Wait, was that how the club found out about her new status? That was disturbing. Big Macintosh played Cypher the Thousand. Rainbow Dash played Cypher the Hundred. Royal Pin was Cypher the Ten. And although she recognized Cypher the Unit’s voice, Rarity was still honestly shocked to see Miss Cheerilee inside the clubhouse. Before anypony could say anything, Rarity trotted up to her.

“Miss Cheerilee, I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Rarity said, “but what are you doing here? This is the Millionaire’s Club, right?”

“Oh, it’s not like that,” Cheerilee said. “I may not be a millionaire any more, but that doesn’t mean I’m no longer a Member. Once a Member, always a Member.”

Rarity grimaced. “That’s sweet, but that actually raises more questions than it answers. How did you become a millionaire in the first place, and where did all that money go?”

“Where the money came from is kind of a long story, I’ll tell you all about it some other time,” Cheerilee said. “As for where it went, I used most of it to help the Club fulfill its monthly charitable obligation.”

“Charitable obligation?”

“Of course,” said Copper Coin. She walked up beside Rarity, without her cypher hat. “The Ponyville Millionaire’s Club has always been a charitable organization. Each month, we make a donation of twenty-five thousand bits or more, to help improve and uplift our community. And we expect our members to donate from their vast wealth. Now, you’re a new member, so we don’t expect you to start donating right away, because we want you to feel comfortable with our club before you start contributing. Here, come join me on the sofa. I’ll be happy to answer any other questions you may have.”

Rarity followed Copper to the couch, while the rest of the millionaires began to mingle. Rarity recognized a few of the other members, and was surprised to see many of them. Of course, Bronze Serpent was there, as expected. And since Big Mac was already a member, it followed that Granny Smith and Applejack were present as well, though Rarity couldn’t figure out why. Rarity also recognized Davenport, Mason Dixon, the town surveyor, and Vinyl Scratch, aka DJ-Pon3. There were also four other ponies, two earth, a unicorn, and a pegasus, whom Rarity had seen around town, but whose names escaped her at the moment. That made a total of seventeen members, including herself.

“I must admit,” Rarity began, “this clubhouse is not at all what I was expecting.”

“Newbies always say that,” Copper said. “They expect something fancy, elegant, and sophisticated. Something like what Bronzy and I have back at home, I imagine. But for those of us who live in that kind of opulence, it’s nice to get away from that every once in a while. Plus, I think the relaxed and casual atmosphere of this place is actually quite charming in its own right, don’t you?”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with elegant simplicity,” Rarity said, “but if we’re going to discuss our charitable work in a common and casual environment, we could do that in any building in Ponyville. Why have an entire secret clubhouse if we don’t decorate it in a style that suits our station?”

“Because that’s not what our club is about. The mission of the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club is to use our great wealth to make Ponyville a better place to live for the rich and the poor alike. Creating a den of massive luxury for ourselves to enjoy exclusively runs counter to that mission. It also flies in the face of the club motto: Multum Datum, Multum Sperandum.”

“From those to whom much has been given, much is expected,” Rarity translated.

“Yeah, how’d you know that?”

“It was one of my grandmare’s favorite expressions. She said it to me all the time whenever she visited from Whinnyapolis.”

“She sounds like she’d fit right in with our club. Speaking of which…” Copper reached into her fluffy mane with her magic and pulled out a small brass key. “This is your key to the clubhouse. The house is yours as much as it is everypony else’s. Feel free to come and go as you please, but always keep that front door locked. And don’t lose your key. These are a pain in the rump to replace.”

Rarity nodded, and took the key from Copper.

“Now, this is a secret society, so you can’t tell anypony you’re a member. If anypony asks, deny, deny, deny. You also can’t tell anypony who the other members are, where we met, what we discuss, or anything that happens inside the clubhouse walls. The only exception to this rule is if one of our members does something illegal in the clubhouse; if that happens, we report him to the police, and we also kick him out of the club. This hasn’t actually happened yet, but the rule is in place just in case it does.

“We don’t charge money for membership dues, because we prefer to use our money for our charity work. However, you will be paying dues in the form of household chores here at the clubhouse. Cypher the Thousand is our majordomo; he’ll help you find a way to pitch in around here. Aside from that, just keep doing whatever it was that made you a millionaire in the first place. Like Cheerilee said, we won’t kick you out if your bank balance drops back down to six figures. But we can, will, and have kicked members out for violating our code of conduct. Just ask Spoiled Rich. Questions?”

Rarity huffed. “Would it really be too much trouble to redecorate this place? I know it’s really not my place to say anything about how the club works, but you did say you wanted me to be comfortable here. And I’m not asking for all that much to change, really. Maybe we could start with getting this furniture reupholstered? Something in velvet, perhaps?”

“That does sound nice,” Copper admitted, “but it’s really not my decision to make. Big Macintosh is in charge of the clubhouse, you’d have to ask him before you go around changing anything.”

Rarity grimaced. “Of all ponies, how did he get to be in charge of the décor? More’s the question, how did he become a member of the Millionaire’s Club in the first place?” Both Granny Smith and Applejack were present in the clubhouse as well. Though Rarity didn’t specify, Copper assumed her question extended to them as well.

“Rarity, are you honestly surprised that the Apple Family is well-off? Between the three of them, they are the majority shareholders of Sweet Apple Acres, Inc., a nationwide business worth tens of millions! I assume you’ve had their Zap-Apple jam?”

“Of course I have.”

“Then you don’t need to ask how the Apples became millionaires.”

“But, they always fret over making enough money from cider sales to support themselves during the winter. Why would they depend on that money so much when they’re allegedly so wealthy?”

“I’m not really sure, but to hear Applejack tell it, most of the money they make goes right back into repairs and maintenance on their land and equipment. But if you ask me, I’d say it’s because they’re all too stubborn to sell their stock in the company to outside investors, lest the farm’s operations be taken over by somepony who isn’t an Apple.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Applejack,” Rarity agreed. “Now, what about Royal Pin over there? I doubt there’s any money to be made in popping party balloons.”

“No, but there is plenty of money at the blackjack tables in Las Pegasus.”

“You’re kidding! He made a million bits by gambling?”

“He doesn’t call it gambling, he says he has a fool-proof system for beating the odds. I never much cared for the practice myself, and I wasn’t too thrilled about him joining. But he’s the best treasurer we’ve had since Granny Smith and Stinkin’ Rich founded this club all those years ago.”

“I see. Now, what about Rainbow Dash?”

“Well, it turns out her great-grandfather was the inventor of the cloud brick, which was instrumental in the development of cloud-based infrastructure. Without him, Cloudsdale simply would not exist. And he left 500 shares of his old company to Dash in his will. And, thanks to the advice of the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club, she was able to parlay that money into one of the most successful investment funds this town has ever seen. Of course, when I say the advice came from the club, I mean it mostly came from me.” Copper chuckled to herself.

“Astounding,” Rarity said, shaking her head. “I’ve been friends with her for years and never knew that. This club really is one of Ponyville’s best kept secrets.”

“And it’s a good thing too.”

Rarity turned and found Rainbow Dash standing over her shoulder. “Dashie, what are you doing, sneaking up on me like that? Is this part of the club initiation or something?”

“Sorry, Rares, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rainbow said. “I just overheard you two talking about me, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t think any differently about me.”

“Why would I think any differently about you?” Rarity said. “Just because I found out you’re rich? What, are you worried I’m going to start hitting you up for money all the time?”

“You don’t understand. When ponies find out you come from money, it changes everything about the way they see you. Asking for loans is just a small part of it. For some ponies, they think that having as much money as we do changes your personality; that it makes you less considerate, less friendly, not to mention lazy. That’s what I love about the Millionaire’s Club; even though everypony here knows I’m rich, nopony judges me for it.”

“Rainbow Dash,” Rarity said, “I am insulted that you would think me so shallow as to judge you for your bank balance. We’ve been friends for too long for something like that. Ooh, speaking of friends, I’m glad you came by here, Rainbow. I was hoping you would know where Twilight disappeared to. Is she upstairs?”

“Twilight Sparkle?” Rainbow confirmed. “She’s not here. She’s not a member.”

“Not for lack of trying on our part,” said Copper Coin. “We did send her at least two invitations to join us, but she never responded. It’s a shame, but it’s her loss in the end.”

“Oh, dear,” Rarity said. “Rainbow, you heard what she said about us last night. If she was actually serious, this could be a major problem for the club.”

“What’s the harm?” Rainbow asked. “So what if somepony gets the wrong idea about us? It’s not like there’s anything she can do about it.”

“Maybe for an everyday run-of-the-mill pony,” said Rarity, “but this is no run-of-the-mill pony we’re talking about. This is Twilight-freaking-Sparkle. Not only is she the Princess of Friendship, but she has a prowess for magic to rival Starswirl the Bearded. With that much power and clout, she could destroy the club if she felt so inclined. And given her disfavor of secrecy in general, I’d say she’s tilting that way already.”

“You make a good point,” said Copper Coin, “but what can we do about it? We’re a secret society, and we have to maintain club confidence. The only way we can tell her the truth is if we make her a member, and that can only happen if she accepts our invitation. But it’s clear from her past interactions with our organization that she wants nothing to do with us.”

“Perhaps…what she needs is a little persuasion,” said Rarity with a smirk. “And I think I know just what to say to her.”

Author's Note

Okay, this last exchange between Rarity and Rainbow Dash is just a set up for the real reason I started writing this story in the first place. I wanted to set up a conflict between a secretive but completely harmless social club (the PMC), and an overly suspicious outsider who assumes the worst about the society by virtue of its secrecy (in this case, Twilight). I wanted to see if it was possible to dissuade such an outsider from investigating harmless social clubs without breaching the club's confidence, and to what degree a benign secret society like this should be transparent with the surrounding community. I'm telling you all this right now because I want to know if this is a topic you guys want me to explore. I'm willing to see this story through to its conclusion, if you want me to. But, I could just as easily give up and move on to something else, if you feel I'm wasting my time. Please let me know, because I want to entertain you as best I can. Thank you.

The Invitation

“Rainbow, take it easy!” Starlight Glimmer said with a scowl. “Those cupcakes cost money, after all. Don’t you think you’ve had quite enough?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes as she bit into the eleventh red velvet cupcake she would have that evening. “Chillax, Star. Rarity’s covering for all of us, so we can have as much as we want!”

“I don’t care how generous you say she is,” Starlight retorted, “it’s not right to blow through somepony else’s money the way you are!”

“Yes, I can see your heart is in the right place,” came a familiar voice. Starlight turned to find Rarity walking up to the counter behind her. “But you are making a fuss over a trifle, really. What’s a couple of bits among friends?”

“I know,” Starlight said, “but a couple of bits, times about three dozen ponies, times multiple rounds, that adds up to more than just a trifle. I mean, just look at this place!” Starlight swept her hoof around Sugarcube Corner. The tiny bakery was packed pretty tightly, with customers at every table, and about as many more standing around mingling. All of Rarity’s dearest friends and family were in attendance, as well as some ponies she didn’t know all that well, but who decided to turn up anyway when they heard what she was planning.

“Starlight, I think you’re missing the point. Again.” said Pinkie Pie, who had been working the counter for the past three hours non-stop. “Did you forget why Rarity said she was throwing this party? We are celebrating the fiscal achievement of Equestria’s newest millionaire! She’ll never miss a measly eight hundred bits.”

“You see,” Rarity said, cool as ice. “It’s no big…wait, how much?”

“Hang on, let me see,” said Pinkie, grabbing the register tape, and scanning it with her eyes. “Uh-huh. So far, you’ve run up a tab of eight hundred twenty-nine bits and forty-six cents.”

Rarity’s eyes froze in an unblinking stare. “Oh, dear. That’s a bit more than I expected.”

“See, Rainbow?” Starlight seethed. “I told you to slow down!”

Rainbow shook her head as she wiped the frosting from her muzzle. “If Rarity wants me to stop, she can tell me herself.” She turned back to the counter. “Yo, Pinkie! Hit me again!”

Pinkie handed Rainbow another cupcake. Then she punched a few buttons on the cash register. The tape grew a little bit. “You’re up to eight thirty-one, nineteen,” she announced.

“Are you sure you can afford that?” Starlight asked, tentatively.

Rarity brought a hoof to her chin. “If this keeps up, I may have to let Sweetie Belle go without her favorite cereal for the next month. Or any food at all, for that matter.”

For a single, terrifying second, Starlight thought Rarity was actually serious. Then she noticed the mischievous twinkle in Rarity’s eye. Starlight grimaced, and lightly shoved her friend in the shoulder.

“Oh, come now, Starlight, don’t be like that,” Rarity said. “You’re so serious all the time. You’ve got to learn to lighten up. Enjoy yourself. It’s a party, for pony’s sake! Ooh, I think I know what will help.” She turned to the counter. “Pinkie, dear, bring our friend Starlight my usual, if you please.”

“Coming right up!” said Pinkie. She reached behind the counter, and produced what appeared to be an ordinary yellow cupcake, with a rosette of white icing. She put it on the counter in front of Starlight, then punched its price into the register. “Eight thirty-four, fifty-nine,” she said.

Even though Starlight couldn’t quite do the arithmetic in her head, she knew that jump meant this cupcake was quite pricey. Clearly, Rarity had expensive tastes, much more expensive than hers. Still, it would be rude not to at least try it. Starlight floated it up to her mouth, and nibbled just a small piece of the cupcake, close to the edge.

“I don’t get it,” Starlight said aloud. “It tastes like one of those Bargain Batch cupcakes that they sell in boxes of sixty. You pay three bits and change for this?”

“Take a bigger bite,” Rarity insisted. “You’ll get it.”

Starlight opened her mouth wide and bit the cupcake in half. She was greeted by a sudden juicy flavor. It teased her tongue with a tangy taste, yet its sweet sensation left her salivating with satisfaction. Pulling back, she saw that hidden within the cupcake was a core of raspberry filling. Starlight usually didn’t like raspberries, but the soft cake and creamy icing muted the more potent parts of the filling while enhancing the sweet flavor. She happily chomped the rest of the treat, letting the tastes and textures swirl and swim in her mouth. She moaned softly.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” Rarity said wryly.

“Worth. Every. Cent.” Starlight said.

“Rarity, there you are!” Rarity turned to see Twilight Sparkle approaching the counter. She waved her over. “I was beginning to wonder if I would see you here. I wanted to congratulate you. I know how hard you’ve worked over these many years, and reaching a milestone like this is a major accomplishment. I’m certain you feel really proud.”

“Oh, stop it, Twilight,” Rarity said, turning away. “You’ll embarrass me.”

“I know, I know, you weren’t doing it for the money,” Twilight said, “You were just doing what you love. But you wouldn’t be where you are today if ponies all across Equestria didn’t love what you do. You have to take pride in that!”

“You’re absolutely right, Twilight. I would not be where I am today without the love and support of all my dear friends. And I hope you and everypony else understand how deeply and truly grateful I am for all your love and support!”

“I’ll say we do!” Rainbow Dash piped in. “With a bash like this, I’d say you’ve become the toast of the town! Hey, Pinkie! Slide me one of those peanut butter ones!”

“Make it two!” said Starlight Glimmer. Pinkie pulled two cupcakes from behind the counter, then rang them up on the cash register. “Here’s to Rarity, the nicest, kindest, sweetest member of the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club!” She and Rainbow snickered to each other, before bumping cupcakes, and eating.

“Oh, I’m not a member yet,” Rarity said. “But, I expect I’ll be getting an invitation soon enough.”

“Starlight!” Twilight hissed. “Don’t give Rarity any ideas about joining those creeps!”

“Ideas?” Starlight said, bewildered. “Those creeps? Twilight, I was just talking abstractly.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.”

“Wait, wait, wait a minute! Are you telling me that the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club is actually a thing?”

“Oh, right, you haven’t been here that long,” Twilight said. “Well, the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club is a secret society that only invites millionaires to join, because…I guess they just don’t like the poor and working class ponies in this town.”

“That sounds oddly specific,” said Starlight. “Hang on, if they’re a secret society, how did you find out that they exist?”

“Everypony knows the club exists, Starlight,” said Rainbow Dash. “What we don’t know which ponies are members of the club, because nopony will admit to being a member of the club.”

“And we don’t know what those ponies do when they meet in their secret hideout,” Twilight added. “But if they’re going to all that trouble to hide it from the rest of Ponyville, it can’t be anything wholesome, I can tell you that much.”

“How do you know they have a secret hideout?” Starlight asked.

Twilight shot Starlight a “don’t be dense” look.

Starlight gasped. “Are you a member?”

Twilight covered her eyes with her hoof. “No, Starlight.”

Rainbow Dash scoffed. “That’s exactly what a member of a secret society would say if they were asked, Twilight.”

“Okay, you want full disclosure? Here it is: I received an invitation to join when I first moved to Ponyville. I don’t know why, maybe they thought I had a secret trust fund from my parents or something. Either way, I threw the invitation out, and never gave it a second thought. I got another invitation right after my coronation, and I threw that one away too. I haven’t heard a word from them since. And if I never hear from them again for the rest of my life, it will be too soon. I may be a princess, but that doesn’t mean I’m better than anypony else. The last thing I should be doing is joining some exclusive club of self-absorbed ponies who think that they are. Does that convince you?”

“Yeah, yeah I should say so,” Starlight said, clearly taken aback.

“I understand you have strong feelings about them, but let’s not go painting these ponies with too broad a brush,” Rarity said. “Don’t forget, it was the Millionaire’s Club that donated seventy-five thousand bits to help rebuild town hall after Applejack came home without any rodeo prize money.”

“Rarity’s right,” said Pinkie Pie. “They also paid to help restore the damage to the landscape after your super-mega-ultra-magic-exploding-battle with Tirek.”

“Yeah,” said Rainbow. “And they helped cover the damage I caused in Cloudsdale that one time I tried to sabotage winter.”

“Wait, you did what?” Starlight asked.

Rainbow stroked the back of her head. “It’s kind of a long story, I really don’t want to get into it. Short version; I’m not proud of myself, I learned my lesson, I’m never going to try that again.”

“I don’t care about their acts of largesse,” Twilight said, stomping her hoof. “They only make huge donations like that to make themselves look good. They figure if they dump bushels of money on the citizens of Ponyville, nopony will question where it comes from, or what those ponies are doing in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t know,” Pinkie Pie interjected. “If you listen to what Granny Smith says, the Millionaire’s Club has been around just about as long as Ponyville itself.”

“So? What does that prove?”

“Well, if those fancy-pants types were really up to something evil and sinister, wouldn’t somepony have noticed it a long time ago?”

“That’s a good point,” Starlight said. “Ponyville is a small town, where everypony knows everypony else. Especially pink earth ponies with unruly curly manes. Not that I mean anypony in particular, mind you. But at any rate, dark and sinister secrets are like germinating seeds in topsoil. They always manage to find their way to the surface.”

“Starlight,” Twilight moaned, massaging her muzzle, “nopony puts this much effort into covering up something that’s completely innocuous. You of all ponies should know that better than anyone.”

At this, Starlight’s ears drooped. She looked away shamefully.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Twilight said. “That came out way worse than I meant it, I swear.”

Starlight huffed. “I am never going to live that down, am I?”

“Ladies, ladies,” Rarity said, stepping in between Twilight and Starlight. “We can speculate about the motives of a secret club of wealthy ponies until the cows come home, but speculation is all we will have! These ponies have a right to their own privacy, and we should respect that. Now, I do not want to hear any more talk about secret societies of any stripe at my celebration! Pinkie, dear, a round of chocolate milkshakes for the four of us, if you please?”

Pinkie slid four frosty glasses down the counter to four waiting hooves. She rang up the prices on the cash register. “That brings you eight sixty-four, even.”

“I didn’t ask for the running total,” Rarity grumbled.

The party ran a bit longer than Rarity expected. Although Sugarcube Corner closed at ten-thirty, stragglers were still ordering sweets until seven minutes past eleven. Mr. and Mrs. Cake had to threaten the patrons with mandatory foal-sitting duties in order to get them to leave. Rarity was the last pony out the door, thrilled that her generosity had brightened so many of her friends’ faces. Even if it did set her back nine hundred fifty-seven bits and two cents. The Cakes just had to put their two cents in, didn’t they?

Even though it was dark, the moon was full, so Rarity had no trouble making it back to Carousel Boutique. She was still a good four meters away when she noticed the moonlight reflecting brightly of something rectangular that was attached to her front door. Wondering what it was, she kept her eyes fixed on it until she got close enough to see it clearly. It seemed silver at first, but as it came into focus, she saw gold on it as well, and later some green.

Finally, she could make out what it was. It was a silvery reflective envelope, adorned with six golden rings interlocked with one another in an intricate weaving pattern. Rarity grabbed the envelope in her magic, and peeled away the tape that held it to the door. She turned it over, and saw that her name was written across the seal, along with the words “for your eyes only.” Rarity smirked. She knew exactly what was in this envelope. Her party at Sugarcube Corner had served its second, secret purpose. She didn’t tell anypony this, not even her closest friends, but Rarity had been looking forward to joining the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club since the day she opened Carousel Boutique.

Like most native Ponyvillians, she first heard of the club’s charitable work when she was just a foal. After her next door neighbor’s house was accidentally struck by lightning, and the insurance company refused to authorize payment, the Millionaire’s Club cut the poor family a check for eighty thousand bits, enough to restore their house to its former glory, and then some. That magnanimous act of kindness inspired Rarity, and drew her to try and find out more about the club. Of course, all her detective work only yielded one definitive fact: the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club was in fact a thing. With no information to go on, her imagination started crafting some wild fantasies.

Rarity would often imagine some random, non-descript pony trotting down Main Street, acting perfectly normal, waiting patiently for those around him to avert their gaze, at which point he would disappear down a blind alley. He’d tap a specific combination of short and long taps in key locations on what looked like an ordinary wall, causing it to swing open and reveal a secret passage to an underground bunker. Once inside, a well-dressed, well-spoken servant would greet him with a jacket and pipe, pre-loaded with the finest tobacco, of course. Then this normal, run of the mill pony would enter a grand hall, decorated with opulence and grandeur to rival the Royal Palace, and finally let his guard down. He’d rub elbows with his fellow millionaires, and they’d engage in the kind of pleasures and frivolities that can only be truly appreciated by the well-to-do. Oh, if only she could see what the Ponyville Millionaires see…

And now, a quarter of a century later, that dream was finally going to become a reality. This silver envelope held her official invitation to the secret clubhouse. She’d have to pass some kind of initiation test, of course, but that small hurdle cleared, she’d finally take her place among the wealthy elite of her hometown. The excitement made her entire body shiver with anticipation. She quickly took the envelope inside and shut the door. She ran upstairs to her bedroom, closed all the blinds, flicked on her bedside lamp, and then finally opened the envelope. Inside was a type-written letter on an ordinary sheet of white paper. That struck Rarity as surprisingly commonplace. Wouldn’t a club of rich ponies put a little more effort into their clandestine communication? Such as some custom stationary, or calligraphic text? Maybe even some special perfume, to give the future members both a figurative and literal whiff of what was to come? Perhaps the money they save on invitations goes toward improvements to the clubhouse, Rarity thought.

“Greetings and congratulations on your financial success, Miss Rarity, from the esteemed Members of the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club,” the letter began. “By virtue of your improved station, we hereby extend to you an Invitation to partake in the Initiation Ritual that, if completed, will confer upon you the rights and privileges of Membership in our club. On the seventh day of November, make your way to the Club’s headquarters at 385 Viking Street. Make sure you arrive no earlier than 7:00 pm, but no later than 7:10 pm. We are expecting you, and our time is quite valuable. Good luck, Miss Rarity.”

Rarity chewed on her lip to keep herself from squealing with delight. She didn’t want to wake her sister, or anypony else, as they might ask what she was so giddy about. She couldn’t risk telling anypony she was invited to join the most exclusive, most mysterious, most secret of secret societies in Ponyville. If she broke their confidence before she even passed the initiation test, they’d never let her in. Rarity reigned in her emotions, and made a plan for her arrival at the clubhouse. November seventh, that was tomorrow. She’d try to arrive at 7:05 pm. Where’d they say the clubhouse was again? She looked back at the letter.

385 Viking Street? That can’t be right! That would mean the Ponyville Millionaire’s Clubhouse is…literally three doors down from my parents’ house?

First her invitation was written from a common typewriter, now the clubhouse was an ordinary cottage in the heart of the middle-income neighborhood? Where was the luxury? Where was the finery? What was this, a millionaire’s club, or a college fraternity? No, Rarity told herself. This had to be part of the initiation ritual. Any pony that wasn’t willing to face the seemingly paltry offering by the club was clearly some kind of ultra-snob who wasn’t worthy of the mantle of membership. Yes, the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club was like Pinkie’s Cinnamon Surprise cupcake: it only looked ordinary on the outside, but it was so much sweeter on the inside. Once Rarity proved herself worthy, they’d show her the secret knock that opened up the raspberry filling that was the real clubhouse. Yeah, that had to be it. Or was it?

The only way she was going to find out for certain was if she followed the instructions she was given. And she had to wait until tomorrow to do that. There was nothing left for her to do now but go to sleep. She folded the letter back up, and slid it back into the envelope. She hid it away in her nightstand, and retrived her sleep mask. She slid it over her eyes, then flicked her lamp off, and let her tired mind carry her away to the Plane of Dreams.

The Trial of the Cyphers

“Are you sure you should be telling me this?” Applejack said, adjusting the towel she had wrapped around her hair. “I thought the Millionaire’s Club was all a hush-hush, cloak-and-dagger, I-would-love-to-tell-you-but-then-I-would-have-to-kill-you type of operation?”

“It certainly is that,” Rarity said, wiping the sweat from her brow. “But, like I said, I’m not a member yet, so I don’t think I’m bound by the same rules as them. And I simply had to tell somepony I was invited to join!” Rarity tittered excitedly at the mere mention of her invitation. “That’s why I asked you to join me at the spa, so I could share it with you privately. If I end up joining, it cannot get out that I was ever invited. You won’t say a word, will you?”

“Your secret is safe with me, Rarity,” Applejack responded.

“Oh, I can’t wait until tonight!” Rarity gushed. “I wonder who I’ll get to meet when I finally join the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club?”

“There’s no way to tell,” said Applejack. “Nopony will admit to being a member. That’s why it’s a secret society, remember?”

“Yes, but the club clearly only invites those residents of Ponyville who are millionaires, hence the name,” Rarity said. “So, I expect the Riches to be there, not to mention Bronze Serpent and Copper Coin.”

“Who?” asked Applejack.

“Silver Spoon’s parents,” Rarity explained. “Mr. Serpent is a doctor at Ponyville General Hospital, and you know how much doctors get paid.” She winked at her friend.

“Oh, yeah,” said Applejack. “I think I met them at some sort of parent-teacher conference, or something.” Applejack rewrapped her towel to cover her face.

“But beyond them, I don’t really know of many ponies who are so public about their finances,” Rarity admitted. “I suppose Davenport might be, though one must wonder how many quills and sofas it takes to earn one million bits. I’m sure Mayor Mare is paid pretty well. Then again, she’s only a local politician, so not exactly millionaire potential there.” Suddenly, Rarity gasped. “Of course! All that suspicious talk about secret ponies only ever being up to no good? Saying she got invited, but threw her invitations away? It was all a part of the act, to keep it a secret, that little minx! Can you believe her?” Rarity waited patiently for Applejack to answer her. But the orange earth pony didn’t even acknowledge that she had been spoken to. So, Rarity tore the towel away from her face with her magic.

“What?” Applejack said, annoyed.

“I am talking about Twilight Sparkle being a member of the Millionaire’s Club!” Rarity said. “It makes perfect sense! She’s a princess, she owns that massive crystal castle, she gets a handsome stipend from the Royal Treasury, and she hardly spends any of it. Not only that, but her royal duty is to spread the magic of friendship across the land, so it would only make sense to join a secret society to make new friends! Obviously, she only pretended to be paranoid about secret ponies doing secret things at secret times to throw us all off the scent. Understandable, of course, this is a ‘secret’ society after all.” She looked back and saw that Applejack had replaced the towel over her face. She yanked it away again. “Applejack, are you even paying attention?”

Applejack huffed. “Look, I get that you’re excited about being a member of this club, and you want to find out who’ll be there. I’m happy for you, I am. But I’m a working pony, and I don’t much care for gossip besides. So, as far as I’m concerned, the membership roster and the secret meetings of some fancy club of millionaires is none of my business. And I really don’t feel like talking about it while I’m trying to relax.” With that, she took her towel back, and wrapped it around her face once more.

Rarity didn’t blame her. The main reason she chose to spill her guts to Applejack was that she knew the farm pony was like a levee to the flow of gossip. Maybe she should have invited Fluttershy instead. Fluttershy would have played her guessing game. But Applejack was right. As much as she would have loved to figure out who was and wasn’t in the club before finding out herself, it was a waste of effort. Whether she was right or wrong, she couldn’t share that information with her friends. After all, once she was a member, she’d have to keep their confidence and not reveal any of the club members’ names. With a sigh, Rarity pushed the thought from her mind. She’d just have to wait until tonight.

Whether it was the cool autumn air, or the thrill of what she was about to do, Rarity wasn’t sure. But something was giving her a terrible chill than ran from her snout to her tail. She left the boutique at 6:45 that evening, and started trotting a familiar path that led into town. Along the way, she passed by the floating cloud house that belonged to Rainbow Dash. Seeing a friend’s house made Rarity tense; she didn’t want to be forced to explain where she was going. Thankfully, Rainbow didn’t think to poke her head out the window at just that moment. Get a hold of yourself, mare! Rarity chided herself. You don’t want the millionaires to think you’re a total basket case, do you?

Rarity kept going, taking the long worn route that led back to her parents’ house. She found Viking Street easily enough, though it had seen better days. The cobblestones had come loose in many places, leaving a constellation of potholes. She looked nostalgically at her next door neighbor’s house, trying to find the spot where the lightning had hit it. But the remodelers had done such a fine job of covering it up, the only way anypony would know it had been hit is if somepony witnessed it firsthand. Those Millionaires sure knew how to pick ‘em. When she came to her parents’ house, Rarity quietly tiptoed past. Rainbow was one thing, but how was she supposed to explain this to her parents? And Sweetie Belle? No, she had to keep them in the dark. She had to press on.

House number 385 looked exactly the same as it did when she was a filly; wooden walls, thatched roof, overhanging second floor, just like every other house on the block, and most of the houses in Ponyville. She passed this house on her way to school every morning. All that time, she thought this secret club met in a dark alleyway, when they were right under her noses the whole time. It made sense, now that she thought about it. The best place to hide something is right in plain sight, after all. She trotted up to the door, and checked her pocket watch. 7:02 pm, it read. She was right on schedule. She knocked on the door.

“We are not expecting company.”

A chorus of voices echoed from behind the door. Male and female alike, they spoke neither harmoniously nor discordantly. However, they spoke in perfect unison, thus amplifying their volume. It startled Rarity at first. Then the voices spoke again.

“This is a private matter, outsider. Unless you are the one we want, go away!”

How many voices were there? Five? Six? Seven? More? Whoever these ponies were, and however many of them there were, it was clear they had rehearsed this. Behind that door was a group of ponies who knew each other well enough to plan something in secret. But they were so hostile, and they said they weren’t expecting anyone. Did Rarity stumble upon another secret society by mistake? She double checked the number on the house, to make sure she had the right address. Nope, this was where the invitation sent her. She knocked again, and the voices came back.

“Are you the one we are expecting, intruder? State your name!”

At last, an invitation to begin a dialogue. “I am Rarity, owner of Carousel Boutique. I was invited here tonight by the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club. May I please come in? It is dreadfully cold out here.”

After a moment, the door swung open, revealing a small foyer. Beyond that, Rarity could scarcely make out a dimly-lit living room. There was nopony inside that she could see. Were they hiding from her? She stepped inside to get a better look. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her in complete darkness. She froze. If these ponies were trying to put the fear of Celestia in her, it was working. She fired up her horn with a small light spell.

“Douse your horn at once, outsider!” screamed the voices. “You have not yet earned the right to see the inside of this house!”

Rarity did as she was told. While her light was only on for a few seconds, she did manage to glimpse the muzzles of three of the ponies in the room as they were talking. They stood in a line, one yellowish-brown, one bright red, and the last a light blue. She understood now why they were speaking in unison, to merge their individual voices into a new one, so their identities would remain concealed as they spoke to her. It worked, at first. But now that she didn’t have the door in her way, Rarity could pick up a few distinct vocal patterns she recognized.

“I understand and respect the need to keep your secrets,” Rarity said, “but you have no right to treat me like an intruder. Need I remind you that you ponies invited me here? I am speaking with the members of the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club, am I not?”

“You were invited here to face a trial. A trial that will determine your worth as a member of our ranks,” said the voices. “Unless and until you prove yourself to us, you shall remain an outsider. Now, are you ready to face your trial?”

“What exactly do you plan to do to me?” Rarity asked.

“That is for us to know, and for you to find out,” said the voices. “Now, step forward.”

Rarity hesitated, but took a trembling step forward when she heard the muffled sound of hoofsteps milling about around her. She moved very slowly at first, wondering if each next step would be one she regretted. Would there be floor under her? Would there be something gross or painful she could step on? Would she bump into something? There was no way for her to tell in the darkness. How were all these other ponies able to move around so easily?

“Stop there, that’s far enough,” said the voices. Rarity sighed with relief. Nothing bad happened at all. “Now, Miss Rarity, if you wish to join the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club, you must face the Trial of the Cyphers!”

At this, the room was lit up with an unsettling yellow light. Rarity look up, and saw six glowing yellow rings above her head, similar to the rings on the invitation she received. At first, she thought the rings were meant to be circles, and were shrunk horizontally to fit on the envelope. But these rings were also taller than they were wide, and appeared to have the same proportions. Also, these rings weren’t linked; they stood separately, side by side in a row. That’s when it clicked in Rarity’s mind. They weren’t golden rings at all, they were zeroes. The six zeroes used to make up the numeral 1,000,000. It was a little clever, and kind of cute and charming. Rarity couldn’t help but chortle at them.

“Silence, infidel!” screamed the voices, which appeared to be coming from the golden cyphers. “You will not speak during this trial, unless you are first spoken to. Each of us will have our turn to interrogate you. You must answer our questions honestly, if you expect to receive that which you deserve. If you lie to us, you will face terrible consequences. Once the six of us are satisfied, will shall render our judgement, which will result in either Membership or Banishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” was all Rarity said. She dared not say anything else. Who knew what sort of wrath awaited her if she angered the cyphers again?

“Then, let us begin!”

Rarity heard the distinct sound of a magic spell being dismissed. She reasoned that was what enabled the ponies in the shadows to speak with one voice. But the time for that was past. The glowing zero on the far right moved slightly toward Rarity, and she fought the urge to step back.

“I am Cypher the Unit,” said a mare’s voice, soft and even-toned with the wisdom of age. Although she tried to speak sternly, Rarity could hear a smile hiding in the back of her throat. She knew this pony would rather speak happily, and felt uncomfortable trying to be menacing. “I am always watching, for I am ever-present. Even the absence of worth is marked by my presence. This is my question: Are you proud of what you’ve done?”

Rarity’s voice seized in her throat. What did she mean by that? It sounded like she was accusing her of something terrible, but she couldn’t tell what? It seemed logical to say no. But then again, maybe it was something positive? So, she should say yes, right?

“Miss Rarity, I asked you a question,” said Cypher the Unit, “and I expect an answer.”

“I’m sorry,” Rarity said. “But I don’t understand the question.”

“Think, mare! Does a pony become a millionaire through inaction?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then your fortune is a result of something you’ve done, right?”

“Well, yes, naturally…”

“Then you do understand my question. I’ll ask again: Are you proud of what you’ve done?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Rarity said, her voice fresh with enthusiasm, now that she understood what the Cypher meant. “Because of my creative efforts, ponies across Equestria are discovering their most fabulous selves, which brightens up everypony’s life. Who wouldn’t be proud of that?”

“Thank you, I am satisfied.” The cypher stayed in its place, while the next cypher to the left stepped forward.

“I am Cypher the Ten,” said a stallion, his voice a high tenor, but with an unusual huskiness to it. It almost sounded like he was trying to mask his natural voice. “I am the foundation of the tower that stretches to infinity. This is my question: If you love what you do so much, why do you charge other ponies money for it?”

“Well, that’s a silly question,” Rarity said. “I have to make a living somehow. I need food, I need shelter, and these things cost money, darling. Oh, not to mention the supplies I need to keep my business running, which costs money too.”

“That answer rings hollow,” said Cypher the Ten. “While it’s true that you need these things, and these things cost money, you have so much money already. Surely, you could use some of your massive wealth to pay for the things you need?”

“For a little while, I suppose I could. But that money would be used up eventually, and when it did, I’d still need to eat. So, yeah, I do require a steady stream of income, so I can keep going.”

“Thank you, I am satisfied.” The next cypher to the left stepped forward, joining the other two.

“I am Cypher the Hundred,” said a very raspy voice, likely a mare’s, by its pitch. Unlike Cypher the Unit, this mare’s voice had a very hard edge to it. Rarity could tell this one enjoyed being intimidating. “By compounding the efforts of my brethren, I increase our territory exponentially, and set the example for my brothers to follow. This is my question: Why do you rely on other ponies to feed you?”

Rarity scoffed at that question. “What would you have me do instead? Grow vegetables in my own backyard?”

“Why not? You’d have the food you need, without the risk of the supply being interrupted by unreliable individuals.”

“Because it would be too much work for me. It’s easier to get my food from the kind of ponies who spend their whole day growing food, while I spend my time on what I do best.”

“So you admit that you lack the skill to make your own food, which you need to survive,” said Cypher the Hundred. “Doesn’t that make you less of a pony?”

“No more so than anypony else, I imagine,” said Rarity. “We all have our own unique skills and talents, and no one talent is more or less valuable than any other.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t you be better off if you had your sewing skills and food-growing skills? Why not teach yourself to be skilled at everything?”

“Because the jack-of-all-trades is a master of none,” Rarity answered. “By focusing my time and energy on fashion design, I can make the very best clothes around, which I can then sell to everypony else, so everypony can have the very best.”

“Interesting,” said the cypher. “It’s not the answer I was looking for, but I am satisfied. However, my brother cypher is bound to have a field day with the missing parts of your answer. Heh, heh, heh.” Rarity’s legs twitched as the next cypher stepped forward.

“I am Cypher the Thousand.” This cypher was obviously a stallion. His voice boomed in a low bass, which made the very air quake. This was his natural voice, no question about that. He didn’t even have to try to be intimidating. “I am the pioneer that straddles the boundary between values and statistics. This is my question: Every single bit you have was given to you by somepony else. How dare you call this fortune your own?”

“Because I earned it,” said Rarity. “I provided these ponies with my own unique couture, and they gave me money in exchange for it. They did so of their own free will, nopony forced them to give me their business.”

“So, you admit you took their money,” said the cypher. “Did it ever occur to you that they might be able to use that money for other things, like medicine, or repairs for their home?”

“Perhaps they could. However, I doubt a pony who is in such dire need of medical attention would even think of spending money on my clothing in the first place.” Rarity sensed the cypher was about to speak again. “And just in case your next question is the one I think it is, no, I do not believe it is my place to question the priorities of my customers. Each pony has the right to determine for herself what she will and will not spend her money on.”

“Still, in making yourself more wealthy, you are making your customers less wealthy. Does that not give you pause?”

“Balderdash!” said Rarity. “Buying from my shops does not impoverish my customers. If it did, then I wouldn’t have any repeat business. And if they didn’t value my product more than their own money, they wouldn’t make the exchange at all. Every bit I’ve earned was earned fair and square, and I do not appreciate you insinuating otherwise!”

“My sincere apologies,” said the cypher, “but I had to utilize disparaging words to elicit the answer I sought. I am satisfied.” The next cypher stepped forward.

“I am Cypher the Ten Thousand,” said a mare, her voice elegantly smooth. She sounded like a millionaire, much more so than the other cyphers. Were all the cyphers club members, or were a few of them actors? “In my dominion, the values are of ambiguous magnitude. Depending on the scope and scale, they can be grand, or miniscule. This is my question: You depend on other ponies for most of the things you need. How do you assert your dominance over those who serve you?”

Rarity scoffed once again. “Really, that’s your question? I thought these questions were supposed to get harder the higher up we got. Clearly, you are expecting me to say that I don’t, that I treat everypony with the utmost respect, because they are my equals, and not beneath me at all.”

“Never you mind what I expect you to say,” said the cypher. “Answer the question honestly.”

“I can’t,” said Rarity. “I don’t seek dominance over anypony. That’s my honest answer.”

“I do not believe you. You’ve worked hard to amass a great fortune. That wealth carries a lot of power and clout with it. Do you agree or disagree?”

“I agree, but it’s not like…”

“So, by your own admission, you have power over the poorer ponies. Now tell me how you use that power to exploit the lesser classes.”

“I do no such thing,” Rarity said, stamping her hoof. “Just because other ponies are not as rich as I am, that doesn’t give me license to mistreat them. And I am insulted that you would suggest otherwise!”

“Very well, I am satisfied.” That’s when the sixth and final cypher stepped forward.

“Wait, wait, don’t tell me,” Rarity said. “Cypher the Hundred Thousand, I presume?”

“That I am,” said a stallion, his voice a suave baritone, with a hidden smile not unlike Cypher the Unit’s. If Rarity had to guess, this pony was their club president or something. He had a confidence about him that made his voice magnetic. “I stand at the precipice of greatness. Though my value is high indeed, there is another world just beyond my horizons. My question is this: As my brother before me has said, your great wealth gives you great power. But power that is never utilized might as well not exist. What do you plan to do with your wealth now that you have it?”

“Ah, I was right, you really did save the hardest question for last,” Rarity noted. “I must confess, I did not have a plan for how to spend one million bits. In fact, I never planned on earning one million bits, it just sort of happened.” Rarity chuckled slightly, before letting the silence hang limply.

“I appreciate your candor, Miss Rarity,” said the cypher, “but I still need an answer.”

“I don’t know, I guess I ought to hold onto it, if I am to stay a millionaire.”

“Why would you need to stay a millionaire?”

“So I don’t get ejected from the Ponyville Millionaire’s Club?”

The cypher chuckled quietly. “Never mind that, it’s your money, you can do as you like with it. Let me put it to you this way, what would you like to do with your money?”

“There are many things I would like to do,” Rarity answered. “I could grow my business more, I could donate to worthy causes, I could lend my friends a helping hand when they need it, and maybe indulge myself a little bit as well.”

“Do any of these things take precedence over any other?”

“I don’t see why they have to, I’m a millionaire, for pony’s sake! I have enough money that I can do all of these things, and still have plenty left over!”

“I must admit, your answer was unusual,” said Cypher the Hundred Thousand, “but I am satisfied. So now, we must vote. In order to become a Member, you must receive unanimous approval from the six Cyphers. One vote against, and you’ll be banished from our clubhouse, never to return as long as you live.” The severity of that last statement made Rarity twinge. “Brother Cyphers, what say you?”

“By taking pride in the work she does over the money she makes, Rarity exhibits the virtue of Work Ethic. I, Cypher the Unit, approve her Membership.”

“By continuing to rise each morning, and fulfill the demand for her work, Rarity exhibits the virtue of Perseverance. I, Cypher the Ten, approve her Membership.”

“By focusing on her own unique talents, and relying on others to do what she can’t, Rarity exhibits the virtue of Specialization. I, Cypher the Hundred, approve her Membership.”

“By seeing the increase in value in the eyes of her customers, Rarity exhibits the virtue of Wealth Creation. I, Cypher the Thousand, approve her Membership.”

“By understanding that what she had done, other ponies may yet be able to do, Rarity exhibits the virtue of Humility. I, Cypher the Ten Thousand, approve her Membership.”

“I have a confession to make, my brothers,” said Cypher the Hundred Thousand. “I was merely going through the motions with respect to this ceremony. I had made my decision even before we gave her the invitation. This mare’s acts of generosity have reached beyond the limits of our small town. She once was the bearer of the Element of Generosity, for pony’s sake. I doubt there’s a pony in all of Equestria who doesn’t already know that Rarity exhibits the virtue of Charity. Therefore, I, Cypher the Hundred Thousand, approve her Membership.”

Rarity grinned from ear to ear. She rapidly tapped all four hooves on the floor. She “oooohed” with excitement. She was in, she was really in, she couldn’t believe it!

“Whoa, there, my little pony,” said Cypher the Hundred Thousand. “There’s one more thing we need you to do before you become one of us. You must accept your Membership.”

“I accept!” Rarity was quick to say.

“Not like that, we have a ritual. Now, take your position at my right hoof.”

Although it wasn’t easy to navigate in the dark, Rarity managed to position herself beside the glowing floating zero. She was instructed to turn around, so she did so. When she did, she felt a hat being placed on top of her head. It was off-balance to the right, so she wrapped it in her magical aura to adjust it. Through her invisible touch, she found out that the extra weight came from a large piece of plywood, cut into the shape of a number 1. Then she saw the same yellow light glowing from her hat. She, together with the six cyphers, formed the numeral 1,000,000.

“My fellow millionaires,” said Cypher the Hundred Thousand, “let it be known that Miss Rarity is now and forever our sister. We shall confer upon her all the rights and duties that we confer upon ourselves.” Once again, the cyphers spoke in unison, though without the aid of a spell this time.

“So say the Cyphers, so say we all!”

“So say we all!” said another group of ponies, whom Rarity could not see.

“Okay, let’s get these lights turned on,” said Cypher the Ten Thousand. “It’s time we introduced ourselves to our new sister.”

A flood of fluorescent light filled the space so suddenly, Rarity had to shield her eyes. She found herself in a rather ordinary looking living room, with an old sofa and two easy chairs. She turned around, and saw that all the windows had thick black blinds that were drawn shut, so no light from outside could get in. Through a smallish entryway, she could see the standard suburban kitchen. So far, this didn’t look like the Millionaire’s Club she had always imagined.

Rarity turned her eyes to the living room, and saw a group of about nine or ten ponies facing her and the Cyphers. She turned, and saw six ponies wearing hats with glowing gold zeroes on them. Rarity smiled; they were exactly who she thought they were.