Inoculationby TumbleweedChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 1“Just so you guys know,” said Twilight, “I've decided to turn evil.” As she watched open-mouthed expressions of bafflement cross the faces of her five best friends, Twilight began to wonder if weekly brunch was the best time to drop such momentous news. “I'm sorry, Twilight.” Rarity picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth, where crumbs of cinnamon roll certainly had not tumbled out when her jaw dropped. “I must be going deaf in my old age. It almost sounded like you said you were going to turn evil.” “That's what I said, yes.” Twilight nodded. “Hold on!” Pinkie Pie held one hoof up, and then used the other to pour the better part of a carafe of orange juice into her mouth. This done, she reared back and turned her head to spew the liquid out in a steady stream before she looked back at Twilight, wide-eyed. “WHAT?!” Rainbow Dash ducked beneath the spit-take (if barely) and then let out a titter of nervous laughter. “Ha ha. Good one, Twilight! Had us all going there for a sec. With your joke. Because that's just a joke. Right?” Her voice cracked. More than usual. “I'm deadly serious.” Twilight said. “Deadly?” Fluttershy murmured from where she took refuge behind her chair. “It's just a figure of speech.” Twilight said. “Turnin' evil is a figure of speech?” Applejack planted her front hooves on the table and tensed her shoulders for a brawl. “Ain't one I ever heard.” “Oh! No, it's not.” Twilight said. “I meant the 'deadly' part of deadly serious. In fact, I'm turning evil in order to make sure nopony dies, or even gets hurt!” Applejack squinted. “Now you're just talkin' nonsense.” “It makes sense, I swear!” Twilight said. She pulled in a steadying breath, and leaned back in her chair. “Just hear me out, okay?” “Oh man, supervillains love explaining their evil schemes!” Rainbow Dash squeaked. “Maybe Twilight really did turn evil!” Applejack facehooved. “Rainbow. Think. Twilight's always liked explainin' things.” Rainbow paled. “So you're saying she's been evil this whole time!?” “I'm not evil!” Twilight huffed. “Not yet, at least. That's the problem.” “How is that a problem?” Rarity said. “A dearth of villainy sounds like the exact opposite of a problem, from my point of view.” “That's what I thought, until recently.” Twilight nodded. “I mean, I've told you guys about Sunset Shimmer, right?” “Oh, oh, oh!” Pinkie Pie held one hoof straight in the air, as if she were in class. “I remember! She's the pony who stole your magic crown thingie and then went through that magic mirror to weirdo hu-maan land but then you chased her and stopped her and saved the day!” “That's right.” Twilight nodded, approvingly. “But that's not all of it. The important part is, even though Sunset Shimmer dabbled in dark magic, and nearly turned an entire school into her mind controlled minions, she got better after that, and went on to make friends and do a lot of good in that other dimension. She keeps me updated, through a magical diary that allows us to correspond across the planar barriers. And, y'know, for someone who once tried to take over the world, Sunset is actually doing really, really well. Also she may be dating the human dimension's version of me and I'm not sure how I feel about that.” Twilight furrowed her brow as she trailed off. “But that's beside the point.” “And the point is?” Rarity said as politely as she could. “In her last letter, Sunset mentioned getting a flu shot.” Twilight said. “Ugh. Needles.” Rainbow Dash shivered, and pulled her wings tighter around herself. “You really are turning evil.” “It wasn't the needle part that got me thinking.” Twilight's eyes took on a familiar, half-mad gleam. “It was the inoculation.” “Twilight said a dirty word!” Pinkie Pie said with a blush and a giggle. “Inoculation, Pinkie. Not … whatever you're thinking.” Twilight shook her head, and busied herself pouring a fresh cup of tea. “I'm talking about the practice of exposing someone to a weakened version of a disease, in order to grant them immunity from the greater form. It's actually a rather fascinating subject-- Princess Celestia herself made it a point to have herself immunized against ponypox when a scientist named Sawbones first developed the practice. Admittedly, Princess Celestia probably didn't need it, given her nigh-immortality, but she actually launched a fad amongst Canterlot's nobility where immunization became the most popular thing, to the point where ponies would wear the bandages over the needle-sticks as a sort of fashion accessory.” “Now that's just silly.” Rarity mused. “White gauze doesn't go with anything.” “Did everybody liquor up their mornin' coffee 'cept me?” Applejack looked down at her mug. “'cause none of this is makin' a lick of sense.” “It will make all the licks of sense!” Twilight pounded a hoof on the brunch table, hard enough to set plates and cutlery rattling. “Once I finish explaining, that is. Because the important part is, once I got to thinking about Sunset Shimmer and immunizations in the same context, I had an idea.” Twilight settled back in her chair, and lifted up her teacup with magic. “What if the same principles behind medical conditions could be applied to psycho-magical ones as well?” “Sorry Twi, that still sounds like crazy talk.” Applejack said. “That's what I thought at first.” Twilight took a prim sip of her tea. “Until I started to really mull it over. I mean, there's Sunset Shimmer … but there's also Princess Luna. Or even Discord! Each one of them has menaced the whole of Equestria, and each one of them has turned away from such a dark path, and proven themselves a better pony for it. Or, uh, a better Draconequus, in Discord's case.” “But that ain't everybody we've blastified.” Applejack said. “Whattabout that queen bug-lady? Or King Sombra? Or Tirek? Y'know, the big demon-centaur that blew up your house n' smashed you through a mountain n' tried to eat your soul? I don't see anypony invitin' any of them to Hearth's Warmin' Eve dinner anytime soon.” “Aha!” Twilight smiled, teacher-proud. “That's a very, very good point. One that I kept in mind when I started kicking this idea around. But when you think about it, they might actually support my theory. If Evil is a disease, then the likes of Queen Chrysalis are when it becomes terminal. Which makes building up a resistance all the more important!” “Resistance?” Pinkie Pie said. “So, uh. You guys know I don't like bragging or anything, but on an objective scale, I'm … pretty powerful. Magically speaking, that is.” Twilight flared her princessy wings out, as if to prove her point. “And, uh, with my current course of study and learning, it's only logical to assume that I'm going to keep amassing more and more magical potential for quite some time. I'm not saying I'm going to be as powerful Princess Celestia or anything, but … um, I definitely have the potential to at least make it within a tier or two of her level. So logically, it's better that I turn a little bit evil now, in order to immunize myself against it, instead of running the risk of an exponentially more powerful future version of myself really going bad and tearing the fabric of space-time apart or something.” Twilight drank the last of her tea, and then set her teacup down on its saucer. “Which is why I've decided to turn evil. Starting this afternoon, I think.” “And what, pray tell, has Spike said about this?” Rarity said. “He's actually all for it.” “Mwa ha ha ha ha!” Spike's laughed nearly drowned out the pitterpatter of his scaled feet as he dashed into the room. With his black top hat and cape, he looked as if he'd just come from the opera-- one where everyone died at the end, to judge by the way he twirled the ends of his glued-on mustache. “While you were having brunch, I rearranged the entire library! Now, everything is shelved by publication date, and not by subject or author's name! AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!” The little dragon swept his cape through the air, and dashed off, cackling. “See?” Twilight said. “It's better he get all this out of his system now, rather than in a century or two, when he's a couple stories tall. Can you imagine how much havoc he'd wreak if he were fully grown? If Spike really turned evil, he might forgo a cataloging system entirely!” “Question.” Rainbow Dash said. “If Spike's already evil, and you're gonna do the same thing, does that mean the rest of us should go evil too?” Applejack turned her ire onto the pegasus. “Rainbow, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said.” “Is not!” Rainbow Dash huffed. “Besides, there's no such thing as stupid questions. Twilight told me that.” “That's true.” Twilight said. “A healthy and unhindered sense of curiosity is essential to proper personal growth.” “Besides!” Rainbow Dash said, “I'm supposed to be the Element of Loyalty, right? There's no way I'm gonna let Twilight go through an evil phase all by herself!” “Thank you, Rainbow.” Twilight reached over and patted her friend on the shoulder. “I really appreciate that.” “And when I go evil, I get a cool costume, right?” Rainbow Dash grinned in eager anticipation. “Nevermind, that was officially the dumbest thing you've ever said.” Applejack grumbled. “Like, something really cool and scary! With skulls! And spikes! And skulls on spikes!” “Mmmm, I'm afraid I'll have to veto that, darling.” Rarity said. “Thanks, Rarity.” Applejack didn't bother hiding the relief in her voice. “You'd do much better with something clingy and form-fitting. Better range of movement, you know. Not to mention the sex appeal.” “What.” Applejack whipped her head around to glare at the white unicorn sitting beside her. “If she's going to do it, she might as well do it correctly.” Rarity flicked a meticulously curled lock of hair out of her eyes. “Besides, this could be a rather interesting opportunity. Black is 'in' this season, didn't you know?” “I didn't.” Applejack shook her head. “I can't believe y'all are just going along with this. I know I ain't the only one who thinks this is just a pile a' horsefeathers. Pinkie—” “What?” Pinkie Pie said from the other side of the room as she pushed a large cannon into place. Somewhere along the line, she'd donned a domino mask and a black shirt with 'HENCHMARE' printed across it in large block lettering. “Fluttershy.” Applejack looked over at the still-cowering pegasus. “C'mon. You're the nicest pony any of us know. Tell Twilight this is a bad idea.” “Oh. Um. Okay.” Fluttershy grabbed the back of her chair for support, and slowly peeked up over the top. “Twilight, all this talk about evil and stuff is really scary.” “See?” Applejack said. “Anythin' that's got Fluttershy that worked up has gotta be a bad idea.” “That doesn't mean anything!” Rainbow Dash pointed an accusatory hoof at Applejack. “Fluttershy's scared of everything! Like, one time I saw her hide under the table because of dessert!” “Only because it was on fire.” Fluttershy murmured. “It was supposed to be!” Rainbow said. “That's what makes Bananas Foster cool!” “Shouldn't that technically be hot?” Pinkie Pie scratched her head. “All I'm saying is just because Fluttershy's scared of something doesn't mean it's a bad idea.” Rainbow Dash zipped over to Fluttershy's hiding place, grabbed her, and plunked her back into her chair. “It might even mean it's an awesome idea.” “I don't think I wanna be evil.” Fluttershy said. “I knew I could count on you, Fluttershy.” Applejack tilted her hat back slightly. “But, um. If you need an army of animal minions, Twilight, I could help with that.” “What?” Applejack said. “Like, sharks? Every villain needs a bunch of sharks, right? Or how about weasels? I could get you a basket of flesh-tearing weasels in an hour, if you asked.” “That. Is. Awesome.” Rainbow Dash stared at her friend with newfound admiration. “You sure you're not good at this evil thing, Fluttershy? Because, like, what if you got a bunch of sharks, and then I got a tornado, and--” “And nothin'!” Applejack said. “I'm tellin' you, Twilight, this is a bad idea. You guys are the best friends a gal could ever have, 'cause you're all so nice n' stuff. Ain't right to just turn your backs on the things that make y'all such good ponies to begin with. I don't want anythin' to do with any of this.” “Oh, Applejack!” Rarity's eyes glittered. “This is even better!” “Huh?” Applejack peered at the unicorn sitting next to her. “It's just such a delicious narrative! You, betrayed, alone, forced to stand against your five best friends as we walk down the path of villainy!” “But only a little bit.” Twilight added on. “Yes, that.” Rarity noted, and then launched back into her rapturous debate. “But think, Applejack! It'll be like one of the great stories of old-- two ponies, their hearts entwined, separated by circumstance! Perhaps your inner goodness will shine through and redeem us all … or perhaps I may yet tempt you to the proverbial dark side?” “Tempt me.” Applejack said, deadpan. “You know.” Rarity made a weapons-grade flutter of her eyelashes. “Perhaps with my feminine wiles?” “That's it. I'm done.” Applejack shoved herself away from the table, and pulled her hat down over her eyes. “I'll be back at the farm. Y'all lemme know when you're done bein' dumb n' crazy.” She wasted little time in stomping out of the castle dining room, and slammed the door behind her. “Oh my.” Fluttershy stared at the door Applejack had stormed through. “We made her really mad. Does that mean we're evil now? “It's alright!” Twilight forced a smile. “I admit, this is one of my … wilder theories, which is saying something. And if Applejack doesn't want anything to do with it, that's her decision, which is perfectly acceptable. Plus, um, it gives us at least one data point towards a control group.” “So now what?” Pinkie Pie said from atop a pile of ominously blinking machinery with 'M.A.S.S. DEVICE' stenciled in a military font down one side. “Because seriously I've had a bunch of this mad scientist stuff laying around for a while now and I've been waiting for the chance to use it! Like, I'm pretty sure I have a mega-laser in the basement somewhere-- we could use it to draw our faces on the moon! Wouldn't that be fun?” “That's … tempting.” Twilight mused. “But remember Pinkie, we're only trying to be a little evil. So we should focus on something a little bit smaller.” “Like what?” “Well.” Twilight shrugged a little bit. “I thought we could start by taking over Ponyville.” Chapter 2“Mayor Mare!” Twilight pushed past a bewildered-looking earth pony at the door to the mayor's cramped but well-appointed office, and Fluttershy followed close behind. Both of them were attired in their villainous best: dark eyeshadow, billowing capes, and scandalously-cut evening gowns, all courtesy of Rarity. “Princess?” Mayor Mare looked up from a cluttered stack of paperwork. “I don't remember scheduling a meeting, unless-- oh no, is it an emergency?” She haphazardly stuffed her files into a desk drawer (albeit after a little bit of stomping to pack the other files down) and turned her full attention onto Twilight. “Oh, it's an emergency … “ Twilight smiled, and swished her cape through the air. However, given the size (or lack therof) of Mayor Mare's office, Twilight's cape tangled itself around a key-to-the-town plaque hanging on the wall. Twilight fumbled around and yanked at her cape, causing both the fabric to tear, and the plaque to clatter to the floor. She cleared her throat and focused on the mayor once again. “For you!” Mayor Mare blinked. “I … don't follow.” “Oh, you will follow! Me, that is. Follow me. Because Ponyville is now under my control, effective immediately! As we speak, my friends-- er, my minions are securing key points around town, and there's nothing you can do about it! Mwa ha ha!” Twilight tried for a properly nefarious laugh, but it came out more than a little forced. “You're kidding,” Mayor Mare said. “Oh no, I'm deadly serious.” Fluttershy made a little whimper from the back of the room. “Figuratively speaking.” Twilight added on. “You really mean it, don't you.” The realization finally began to set in across Mayor Mare's face. “You're taking over Ponyville.” “That's right. And there's nopony who can stop me!” Twilight flung her cape across her other shoulder, and wrenched a black and white photo of some old-timey ribbon cutting ceremony off the wall. Mayor Mare sat back in her chair, stunned. Tears welled up in her eyes, and soon started to dribble down both sides of her muzzle. “Oh.” Twilight held a hoof up to her mouth, and winced. “Don't cry? Please? I didn't mean to--” “No. No.” Mayor Mare wiped her cheeks with an errant sheet of legislation. “It's okay. I'm just so, so happy.” Twilight blinked. “Wait what.” “I always thought the whole 'Princess' thing was just an honorary title, but I'm glad to see you're really stepping up to that responsibility.” Mayor Mare gave a nervous, derisive laugh, and tossed the crumpled and tear-stained page over her shoulder. “I mean, I do what I can, but I've been hoping someone else would run this town for years now. Do you know the last time I was able to take a vacation?” “Er, no?” Twilight said. “That makes two of us!” Mayor Mare sprang out of her chair with renewed vigor. “But, this is even better than I could have hoped!” She immediately made a circuit of her office, collecting personal knick-knacks off the shelves and dumping them into a cardboard box. “If I hurry, I'm pretty sure I can make the next Train to Manehattan-- and from there I can jump on one of the cruise ships heading south. I've heard Zebrica's beaches are wonderful this time of year.” “Hold on--” Twilight tried not to trip over her cape as she followed Mayor Mare around the room. “This isn't exactly what I had in mind.” “Oh, you'll do fine!” Mayor Mare beamed. “Just remember, there's a school board meeting tonight at seven. I usually don't go to those, but someone's been making a stink over some of the books not being 'appropriate for young children' or something. Oh! Speaking of making a stink, some engineers from the sewage company are supposed to stop by in a couple of hours. Honestly most of what they say goes right over my head-- I'm a politician, not a plumber –but as long as they keep the toilets flushing, I say just let them do whatever they want to do.” “But I--” “That's about it!” Mayor Mare dumped her personal belongings into a saddlebag, and then neatly tossed the bag onto her back. “I've got the rest of the week scheduled in my files over there.” She pointed to a precariously leaning tower of battered notebooks, post-its, and the occasional cocktail napkin. Twilight Sparkle felt her stomach churn as she gazed upon the small monument to disorganization. She half expected tiny Discord-cultists to start dancing around it and making sacrifices at any moment. “Oh!” Mayor Mare caught herself before walking past Fluttershy, and out the door. “I almost forgot the most important part!” She dashed back to her desk, opened the bottommost drawer, and pulled out a half-empty bottle of amber liquid. She took a celebratory swig, and then thumped the bottle back down on one of the few uncovered spots on her desk. Without a coaster. “You'll need this.” “But I--” “Thank you, thank you, thank you Princess Twilight!” Mayor Mare pulled Twilight into a grateful hug (ruffling some of Twilight's black lace in the process), and then dashed out the door. Twilight stared after her. “Wow.” Fluttershy murmured. “Maybe being evil isn't so bad after all.” “The good news is, our takeover of Ponyville has gone off without a hitch.” Twilight Sparkle mused aloud. “The bad news, nobody's seemed to notice.” She sat at the head of the conference table, surrounded by her best friends turned conspirators. City Hall wasn't quite as regal or comfy as Twilight's castle, but it seemed only appropriate to make use of the meeting room by right of conquest. “Yeah, what gives?” Rainbow Dash said. “I spent all day rounding up thunderclouds to look all scary and stuff, and then Thunderlane thanked me for doing his weatherwork for him.” “That's okay, Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie Pie's eyes shone blue behind her domino mask. “Once the Weather Dominator's up and running, you'll have all the scary weather you could ever want! I just need to track down an ion correlator, and we'll be good to go!” “What's an ion correlator?” Rainbow Dash said. “It correlates ions!” Pinkie Pie said, cheery. “Duh!” “Let's not get sidetracked.” Twilight said. “Pinkie, the mad science stuff is good, but I think we might wanna save that for later. Besides, didn't you say you were working on a different evil scheme?” “I sure did!” Pinkie Pie said, cheery. “I did something totally, horribly, unspeakably evil!” “Oh dear.” Fluttershy started to tremble. “What did you do?” “I made cupcakes!” “That doesn't count!” Rainbow Dash said. “You do that all the time!” “Yeah, but this time I used a secret ingredient!” Pinkie Pie narrowed her eyes, and the shadows around her seemed to grow longer. “Artificially flavored frosting.” “That's bad?” Rainbow Dash said. “Very.” Pinkie Pie nodded gravely. “The additional preservatives in artificially flavored frosting aren't very healthy.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “So I guess that's a start. Good work, Pinkie. Or, uh, bad work? Good at being bad-work? This villain stuff is harder than I thought.” “You'd think that being evil would attract more attention.” Rarity pouted. “Would you believe that absolutely no one's commented on my new look?” She took a moment to fidget with her cloak. “Um,” Fluttershy said, “that's not entirely true. Didn't Roseluck say you looked nice?” “She did! That's the worst part!” Rarity rolled her eyes. “I'm not supposed to look nice, I'm supposed to look evil. All the visual cues are here! The darker color palate is a reflection of my troubled soul, the asymmetrical patterns show my disdain for the current social order, and the sharp edges of my lapels indicate just how dangerous I am.” “Oooh, what're the fancy stockings for?” Pinkie Pie chimed in. “They make me feel pretty.” Rarity noted, matter-of-factly. “But honestly, with all the effort I put into this, you'd think somepony would notice. I've pretty much done everything but stand in the middle of town yelling 'Look at me! I'm nefarious!'” “Rarity, you're a genius!” Twilight said. “I know, darling, but thank you all the same.” “All we have to do is call a town meeting, and then we can tell everyone how evil we are!” “Thanks for coming, everypony!” Twilight Sparkle put both hooves on the podium, and looked out over the crowd. Not every pony in town had made it to the meeting (one particular apple-farmer was notably absent), but it was close. Every seat in town hall was filled, and several more ponies stood (or hovered, in the case of the occasional pegasus) in the back. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity were all positioned at strategic locations across the room, ready to intervene in case things got … heated. Not that it seemed likely, but proper evil needed a proper contingency plan. “I know this is on short notice, but I've got some important announcements to make--” “It's about time someone did something about the filth in this town!” Spoiled Rich shrilled from the front row. “Beg your pardon?” Twilight furrowed her brow. “This!” Spoiled Rich waved a battered paperback in the air. “'The Adventures of Buckleberry Finn!' Would you believe that so-called teacher Cheerilee is corrupting our youth with such drivel? This so-called 'novel' only encourages youth delinquency and the improper use of language! Won't anyone think of the children?” “Corrupt--” Twilight sputtered, and shook her head. “Look, I know that Buck Finn can be a … problematic book, but that doesn't make it any less worthwhile. In fact, that almost makes it more important, as we should use this as an opportunity to examine prejudices from the past that have endured to the modern day, albeit in different forms.” She stood up taller at the podium, resolute and lecturing. “Not to mention the fact that Samolaco Clemens is one of the most brilliant satirists to ever put pen to paper. In fact, I promise each and every one of you, that for as long as I reign over Ponyville, no book will be banned! I say, let the colts and fillies read whatever they want-- our place is to guide them, not to put arbitrary barriers in their way! Because books like Buckleberry Finn aren't going to 'corrupt' our-- well, your, considering I don't have any kids and don't intend to have any anytime soon – children! In fact, reading this book could be the very thing that inspires some little filly or colt to become the next Samolaco Clemens! A little bit of rough language is a small price to pay for that, don't you think?” Spoiled Rich stared at Twilight, shocked. She began to fumble out a reply, but her words were soon drowned out by the eager applause from the rest of the crowd. Twilight basked in the attention, feeling the warm satisfaction of a good deed done. “Oh wait.” Twilight murmured under her breath, and shook her head. She held up a hoof for silence. “While the freedom of literacy is very important, that's not why I brought all of you here today. What I wanted to say is--” “BLARG!” The raspy, hungry roar was enough to shake the timbers of Ponyville Town Hall. Many of those timbers were then reduced to kindling as a monster smashed through the far wall. Slimy and reeking, the creature seemed to be mostly based around a cavernous, tooth-filled mouth. Two beady eyes swayed back and forth on snail-like stalks, and two long, muscular tentacles flailed through the air, grabbing bits of debris and furniture to shovel into its mouth. It shambled forward on three stumpy legs-- and as it got closer, the creature's horrid smell (a piquant bouquet of rotted eggs and old curry) wafted through town hall. Naturally, chaos broke out. The gathered ponies stumbled over each other as they stampeded away, some of the more desperate ones flinging themselves out of windows in order to escape. Acting on instinct, Rainbow Dash streaked across the room, scooping up a young filly moments before a flailing tentacle could wrap around her. “What … what is it?” Rarity stammered in nose-holding horror. “Otyugh!” Twilight blurted. “My sentiments exactly.” Rarity backed up a few paces. “That thing is positively nauseating! Eeeugh!” “Not 'eeeugh,' otyugh!” Twilight said. “That monster is called an otyugh!” “That's a stupid name.” Rainbow Dash said as she circled around the otyugh, weaving between its flailing tentacles. “Why don't they just call it a crap monster?” “Just because it lives in sewage and eats sewage and covers itself in sewage doesn't mean it's a--” Twilight cut herself short. “Okay, it's kind of a crap monster, but we should use still use the proper term.” “BLARG!” said the otyugh as it crammed a tangle of folding chairs into its mouth. Rarity turned a little greener at the display. “But what's it doing here?” “I don't know!” Twilight said. “I mean, otyughs are extreme omnivores, in that they'll eat anything … but they usually don't come to the surface!” She threw up a magical barrier to deflect errant bits of splinters and spittle. “Unless … none of you guys summoned it, did you?” “Actually, I might be able to explain that part.” An earth pony wearing a construction helmet and headlamp poked his head out from behind the pillar he'd been using as cover. “Who're you?” Twilight teleported over to the same hiding spot. “My name's Royal Flush-- I'm with the Ponyville Sanitation Department.” He looked around. “We were digging a little deeper to make room for the new water main, when … uh, we found that.” He winced as the otyugh started to chew on the corner of the stage. “I was going to tell Mayor Mare, but she wasn't in her office.” “Okay, so that's where it came from, but how do we stop it?” Twilight said. “I was kind of hoping you'd have that covered, Princess.” Twilight facehooved. “Okay. Fine. I can deal with this.” She shook her head. “Just go and get somewhere safe.” “Thanks, Princess Twilight!” And with that, Royal Flush dashed away. Twilight grit her teeth, and turned back to the otyugh, already summoning up her magical energy reserves. “It's just another giant monster everyone!” She called out. “Nothing we haven't dealt with before! We just need to stay calm and--” “My cape!” Rarity shrieked. She looked down at the brownish-greenish glob of … something that had splattered onto her outfit, and then glared daggers at the otyugh responsible. “Do you know how long it took me to make this?” Rarity's horn sent a blazing streak of magic across the room, into the otyugh's slimy bulk. “BLARG!” The otyugh lumbered forward, bearing down on Rarity. The unicorn leapt to the side, ballet-graceful, but the otyugh curled a tentacle into Rarity's cape, cutting her escape short. It hoisted her up into the air, dangling her above its toothy maw. Rarity flailed, desperate and terrified as the yellowed fangs grew closer and closer. She screamed. Her scream of horror turned to more of a confused squeak as a yellow and black blur zipped through the air, yanking Rarity out of harm's way. All that was left in the otyugh's tentacle was a scrap of dark silk (which it ate anyway). “Sorry I tore your outfit!” Fluttershy said, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. “Given the alternative, I'll manage.” Rarity tried to keep casual, despite her racing heart. “I'll just make another one. Designing outfits is only marginally more challenging than dealing with the occasional monster.” “You can't solve every problem with a makeover, Rarity!” Rainbow Dash yelled from across the room. “I can try!” “Wait, that's it!” Twilight beamed as the inspiration struck her. “Rarity, where do you keep your perfumes?” “The top-left drawer on my bedroom vanity.” Rarity said. “... why do you ask?” “I'll be right back! Don't get eaten while I'm gone!” Twilight disappeared in a burst of teleportation magic. A few chaotic, flailing-filled minutes later, Twilight returned, carrying a paper bag with her. “Alright, everypony! Arm up!” With that, she began tossing delicate-spray bottles of perfume to her friends (much to Rarity's chagrin). “Twilight, what're you doing? That's Eau de Canterlot-- it's a limited edition scent!” “Even better!” Twilight said, and held a couple spray-bottles in the air with her telekinesis. “The otyugh has a very sensitive olfactory system, like many subterranean species. It's used to living in filth, but if we present it with the opposite of that … “ Twilight strode fearlessly towards the slimy crap-monster, and sprayed it with a puff of Eau de Canterlot. “BLARG!?” The otyugh recoiled in horror, as if it had been scalded by hot water. Twilight smiled, and hit the otyugh again. And again. “C'mon girls! I'm going to need your help!” With that, the five of them converged on the otyugh, spraying away with their perfume bottles. With the otyugh-repellent properties of the fancy scents, it was a simple matter to herd the creature back into an open sewer drain, which the otyugh slipped through with a sickening 'splorp!' noise. “Alright!” Twilight Sparkle panted, and dumped the last of her Eau de Canterlot down the drain. “All we need to do is make sure all the major drains and sewer lines in town get lined with perfume, and that should keep the otyugh from getting out again.” No sooner had she outlined her plan and turned around, the citizens of Ponyville emerged from their hiding places and started talking amongst themselves. “They did it!” “She stopped the monster!” “They saved us all!” “She's a hero!” “Three cheers for Princess Twilight!” “And her friends!” Within moments, Twilight and company were hefted up onto the shoulders of an adoring, cheering crowd. Twilight blushed at the attention, trying to play it off. “Oh, just another Tuesday. You know how it is.” “Um. Twilight?” Fluttershy said, somehow managing to be heard over the din. “What's that?” “Aren't we still trying to be evil?” “Oh.” Twilight said. “Crap.” Chapter 3“I've got it figured out.” Twilight Sparkle dumped a load of books onto the round table in the center of her Imposing Doom Fortress (formerly Magical Friendship Castle). It'd taken her longer than she had planned to find the proper reference materials after Spike's villainous reorganization of her library, but such things were just the price of wickedness. “So, while it looked like we were doing good when we saved Ponyville from the cra-- from the otyugh, we were really just defending our conquest, so that means we're still bad guys.” “Whew!” Pinkie Pie took off her domino mask and wiped the nervous sweat from her face. “I'd hate to think I used artificially flavored frosting for nothing!” “But. Um. Does that mean we can stop being evil, then?” Fluttershy said. “I don't think so, no.” Twilight shook her head. “I've still got some more nefarious plans I'd like to implement.” “So do I!” Spike popped up from behind Twilight's chair, holding his cape up just below his fake moustache. “Behold, the fruits of evil!” With that, he tossed a handful of cloth scraps into the air, like monochrome confetti. The scraps floated down to land on the table, and the lettering on the tags could finally be seen. DO NOT REMOVE BY PENALTY OF LAW “I've already hit every mattress in the castle-- soon, I'll cut the tags off every mattress in all of ponyville! MWA HA HA HA!” Spike twirled his mustache with one hand, and snipped at the air with a pair of scissors in the other. “Good job! I'm very proud of you.” Twilight beamed. “Spike.” The corner of Rarity's eye began to twitch. “Are those my good fabric shears?” “Uh.” Spike's eyes went wide. “Evil awaits! Bye!” He dropped the scissors on the table, turned literal tail, and took off running. Rarity glared after him, but didn't pursue. Instead, she busied herself with picking up the scissors and examining the blades for any dulling or damage. Rainbow Dash facehooved. “I can't believe a baby dragon is better at being evil than we are.” “He does have a slightly different perspective on this than we do, I guess.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “Of course he's got a different perspective! He's short!” Rainbow said. “Not that-- I meant the fact that he's a dragon. There's still a lot of propaganda that stems from the centuries-old feud between the Chromatic and Metallic Dragons. It's ludicrous to assume that Spike's evil due to being a purple dragon, but rather, it's not unlikely that he's subconsciously internalized some of the stereotypes that he's read about over the years. Remind me to talk to him about that when this is all over.” “And just when will that be?” Fluttershy said. “I'm not sure yet. I'd at least like to unveil at least one evil plan.” Twilight opened up a book and began paging through it. “And I think I've got just the thing … “ “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Rainbow Dash leaned forward. “Are you gonna use dark magic to summon some big demon to blow up the world or something?” “I could do that.” Twilight didn't look up from her reading. “But I'm trying to be evil, not stupid. Heralding the way for an Elder One is honestly too time and resource intensive, not to mention counterproductive. I'd much rather conquer the world instead of feeding it to some ravenous hunger from beyond our comprehension of space-time.” “So what is your plan?” “I'm going to open a new wing of the Ponyville Hospital.” “Ooooh. I get it!” Pinkie Pie shivered in fear and also maybe anticipation. “You're going to give everypony better medical care so that way they live longer so that way they have more time to suffer from the inherent meaninglessness of existence! That's totally evil!” Pinkie Pie blinked her guileless blue eyes at the other four ponies at the table as they stared at her. “What? I've been reading Neightszche. That's what bad guys do, right?” “That's a little more … philosophical than what I had planned.” Twilight sat back in her chair. “I was just thinking we'd name it the 'Princess Twilight Sparkle Intensive Care Unit,' as a testament to my evil vanity. Or something. There's enough money for it in the 'discretionary spending' budget of the Mayor's office-- well, technically my office now, by right of conquest, but still. I'm pretty sure Mayor Mare just used this money for campaigning and direct-mailers and stuff, but if I misuse the funds for something else, I figure that's pretty evil. Not like there's anyone to stop me, anyway.” “Aha!” Rarity pointed her scissors at Twilight, quick enough to make the princess flinch. “That's it!” “You think taking advantage of poorly worded budget legislation is evil too?” “No, not that.” Rarity set her shears back down on the table, and everyone let out a breath. Uncaring, Rarity continued. “The reason we haven't been effective villains is because we don't have any opposition! We're nothing more than a quintet of fabulously dressed hooligans without anyone to properly oppose us. What we need, ladies, is a hero.” “You may have a point there.” Twilight said. “But it's not like we can put out an ad in the classifieds. 'Wanted: One Hero of Destiny. Magic Swords not provided.'” The corner of her lip turned up a little. “Or, I guess we could, but I doubt we'd get the caliber of hero necessary for our purposes.” “Oh! Oh! I know! I know!” Pinkie Pie waved a hoof in the air. “Why don't we just kidnap somepony? That's how it works in the fairy tales! The bad guys are always kidnapping Princesses and locking them in towers and stuff! And then a hero comes and lets them out!” “We've already got a Princess.” Rainbow Dash said. “Oh, right.” Pinkie screwed her face up in intense thought. “Then … what if we kidnap a Prince? Rarity sure scared Prince Blueblood back at the Grand Galloping Gala that one time-- it should be easy to catch him!” “NO.” Rarity snapped-- and then cleared her throat, playing off the sudden outburst. “I mean, ah, that's … a compelling idea, but we wouldn't want to get ahead of ourselves. Blueblood's in Canterlot, a place we decidedly haven't conquered.” “Yet.” Twilight said, absentmindedly. Rarity arched a brow. “Beg pardon?” “Oh, just planning ahead, that's all.” Twilight waved a hoof. “It's good to set your goals high, you know? But as is, we'd need to secure the geode mines of the Crystal Empire to ensure the materials needed to make the ether-batteries needed to feasibly mount a proper siege on Canterlot. Of course, if I were in Cadance's horseshoes, I'd probably find a way to backwards-engineer Sombra's dark magic to take the Crystal Empire out of phase with the primary timeline before letting that happen.” Twilight took a map of Equestria out of her pile of research materials and unfolded it over the table. She traced lines and borders with a hoof, lost in strategic thought. “And even if she didn't, we'd need to establish steady supply lines so we wouldn't freeze and starve in the winter like Gnollpoleon's army did. We'd probably have to annex every bit of arable land in the immediate area to make it work, including--” “Sweet Apple Acres!” Rarity said, with no small degree of enthusiasm. “Very good, Rarity.” Twilight smiled, teacherly. “The orchard is the cornerstone of local agriculture.” “Not to mention it's run by one of the most stubborn ponies I know!” Rarity sighed, dreamily. “If we start menacing Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack's sure to pay attention to me!” She blinked, and hastily added on. “Us. I meant us. Because we're evil now. Yes.” Twilight didn't look up from the map. “Whatever you say, Rarity. But we're going to have to be careful-- we don't want to damage the orchards, and we're going to need the Apple family's cooperation to make sure they're operating at peak efficiency.” “Darling.” Rarity steepled her hooves in front of her chin. “Just leave it all to me.” Applejack groaned as she walked into the kitchen. Honestly earned mud and sweat spattered her coat, and all four of her legs ached. She tossed her hat onto a hook by the door, and made a beeline for the refrigerator. She reached all the way to the back of the fridge, pulled out an earthenware jug, and uncorked it with her teeth. The cool, sweet cider didn't make Applejack's pains vanish, but it at least made them feel worthwhile. Applejack chugged down an unladylike swig of cider, gave an even more unladylike belch, and put the jug back in its proper place. It wasn't until she closed the refrigerator door that she noticed the wax-sealed envelope stuck to the front (with an apple-shaped magnet, naturally). Curious, Applejack pulled the letter off the fridge, and after a bit of fiddling (as well as the careful application of a paring knife) opened it. My Dearest Applejack, We have kidnapped your family. If you ever wish to see them again, you must come to Twilight's Magical Friendship Castle Imposing Doom Fortress and surrender yourself, as well as Sweet Apple Acres. You have until sunrise to make your decision. Choose wisely. R. P.S. If you would, wear something nice. “Huh.” Applejack glanced around the empty kitchen. “Thought it was quiet.” She bit the inside of her cheek, and re-read the letter, just to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her after a long day's work. Sure enough, the words remained the same, even if they didn't make any more sense on a second reading. Applejack got the cider out of the fridge again. Chapter 4The Imposing Doom Fortress wasn't any of those things. During the course of her villainous conquests, Twilight hadn't had any time to redecorate; Nightmare Night was a long way off, so it was impossible to acquire the requisite number of plastic skulls. The palace turned fortress looked as shiny and inviting as ever-- which would have been fine if it weren't for the fact that it was relatively indefensible. While the narrow means of entry around the tree-shaped castle's 'trunk' provided a bottleneck for potential invaders, no precautions had been made otherwise. There were no murder-holes, no trapdoors, no portcullises, not even so much as a bucket labeled 'war rocks' set conspicuously by the window. With an original design geared more towards comfort than combat, there wasn't anything to prevent somepony from walking right in. Which is what Applejack did. “You made it!” Rarity jumped out of her chair and hid the tawdry romance paperback she'd been reading in the folds of her glittering cape. “I mean, ah, you made it.” She put some sweet menace into her tone. “I knew you'd have to submit to our evil plan eventually. Because we're so evil.” “Uh-huh.” Applejack squinted at Rarity, unimpressed. “Mmm. Well.” Rarity raked her eyes up and down Applejack's form, appraising. “Sticking to just the hat, I see. Pity. I was rather hoping to see you in that green number I made for you last season.” “Let's just get this over with.” “Oh-ho-ho-ho!” Rarity's hooves clicked on the tiled floor as she swept across the room, stepping close enough for the cowpony to smell her perfume. “Not so fast, my darling! The sweet taste of victory is one that must be savored, like a fine wine. Or perhaps even a refreshing … cider?” “Ain't nobody getting any refreshing 'til I see my family.” “But of course!” Rarity said. “You require a sign of good faith. So follow me!” She flicked her billowing cape, and then headed deeper into Twilight's Imposing Doom Fortress. Again, with no evil décor, the halls were more inviting than intimidating-- though a crooked NO LOITERING sign had been hastily tacked up to one wall. Spike stood below said sign, chuckling to himself and twirling his mustache. Soon enough, Rarity led the cowpony to the central throne room, and rested a hoof on the closed door. “Brace yourself, sweet Applejack, for you are about to gaze upon the blackest heart of wickedness!” “Whatever you say.” “That is, in fact, what I say! Don't say I didn't warn you!” Rarity shoved the heavy doors open, revealing the tableau in the room beyond. “Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!” Pinkie Pie sing-songed the phrase as she bounced on her hooves from one end of the throne room to the other. “Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!” Apple Bloom clung to the back of Pinkie's neck, giggling the whole way. As soon as she saw Applejack, Pinkie Pie skidded to a halt (about six inches above the floor) and waved a hoof cheerily. “You made it!” “Hey Applejack! I got kidnapped!” Apple Bloom pushed her head up through Pinkie's poufy mane. “Innit that neat!” “No, it ain't.” Applejack grumbled. She strode past the pair, and deeper into the throne room. At one end, Granny Smith sat in a thoughtfully-provided rocking chair, where she had naturally lapsed into her typically loud variety of reminiscent storytelling, with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy sitting nearby as her obligatory audience. Neither looked too interested in the story, but Granny Smith went on anyway. “Back in my day, Ponyville was lawless, I tells ya. Lawless! Had all kinds of skullduggerin' goin' on! Why, weren't a week that went by without some feller in a top hat went up n' tied me to the train tracks! N' sure as clockwork, Grandpa Smith would show up in the nick a' time n' rescue me. 'Course, he weren't Grandpa Smith back then. Everybody just called him Goldie-- short for Goldspur, y'know. His pappy wanted him ta be a big fancy rodeo star, y'see, which is why they gave 'im that name. Made a heck of a row when ol' Goldie got his cutie mark with a an apple on it, instead of a lasso or a cowboy hat or somethin'. Or maybe he shoulda gotten his cutie mark in somethin' else, if ya know what I'm sayin'.” Granny Smith leaned forward to nudge Rainbow Dash, knowingly. “I mean, a gal has to show her 'preciation for bein' rescued, right? And there ain't nothin' to get your blood up like nearly bein' flattened by the Five-Ten to Canterlot, I tell you what.” “I'll take your word for it?” Rainbow Dash said. “Wait, hold on, that ain't right. Weren't the Five-Ten that nearly run me over, I think it was the Three Eighty Five. Had ta be, 'cause every week they'd take a shipment a' onions back to Canterlot. There was a shortage at the time, 'cause of the war rationing. They even put up posters! “Save your onions, save your tears.” Or somethin' like that. Each pony only got one onion a week-- a yellow one, too, 'cause all the red ones had to go to the front. I think it was 'cause they wanted to make sure all the drill sergeants for the army had bad breath when they yelled at new recruits. Very 'portant part of the war effort. 'Course, y'know who really had bad breath? Ol' Daisy Grace. Nice 'nuff pony, but hoo boy, you did not want to get paired up with her durin' Winter Wrap Up. That was back when we had a real Winter Wrap Up, none of this playin' n' singin' that you whippersnappers get up to nowadays. Back in my day, it was considered a good year iffin' nobody's hooves turned black from frostbite. Builds character, that sorta thing!” Twilight Sparkle presided over the chamber, sitting in her throne and wearing an outfit that was mostly cape and shoulderpads. She'd at least made some steps to make the throne more imposing by propping it up on a couple of old boxes. The books tucked away in the throne's cushions were to be expected, but there was one particular detail that stood out. “MacIntosh.” Applejack stared at her brother, who knelt at the foot of Twilight's throne of ostensible evil. “Why in Equestria are you dressed like that?” “The chains and loincloth were his idea, actually.” Twilight noted. MacIntosh blushed. “ … Eeeyup.” “Aaaaand there's somethin' I could have gone my whole life without knowin'.” “Aesthetics are a very important part of evildoing, you know.” Twilight nodded, smiling. “About that.” Applejack planted her hooves and glared at Twilight. “Oooooh, this is even better than I expected!” Rarity stamped at the floor in eager excitement. “Brave, dashing Applejack, standing alone against the forces of darkness!” Twilight leaned back in her throne (which wobbled precariously at the shifting weight) and smiled. “You were right, Rarity, Applejack does have a heroic streak. I'm just curious to see how she could possibly oppose the five of us all by herself.” Twilight signalled with one hoof, at which point Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash all closed in to surround Applejack in the middle of the room. “She's just one pony, after all.” “That's why I brought help.” With that, Applejack put a hoof to her lips and whistled, ear-searingly loud. At the whistle, a harried-looking earth pony with glasses and her brown mane turned up in a bun peeked nervously into the throne room. “Is it safe?” She asked in a very small voice. “It's always been safe. Now c'mon.” Applejack said with a roll of her eyes, and then waved the pony over. “Twilight, I'd like you to meet Manilla Folder.” “Hi there!” Twilight said with a cheeriness not usually seen in despotic tyrants. “Um. Hi?” Manilla Folder walked into the throne room-- slowly, on account of the heavy, bulging saddlebags she carried. “This is perfect!” Twilight said. “Are you a young but unsure student of magic who's setting out to prove herself worthy of her own destiny?” “No?” “Oh, I know! You're a psychologist who's going to teach me a very important lesson about friendship and how I'm only hurting my friends with my turn to the dark side!” “Not that, either.” “So you're … a master of escrima who's going to hit us with a stick until we stop being evil?” “Nope.” “Okay?” Twilight blinked. “If you don't mind my asking, what do you do?” “I'm an administrative assistant.” Manilla Folder said in a very small voice. “Mayor Mare's administrative assistant, to be specific. Or, uh, technically yours now, since you're in charge?” “Oh.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “I don't remember meeting you before?” “I … don't get out much, to tell the truth. Most of the time I just stay in my office in the basement and try to keep things running as best I can. Mayor Mare does the glad-hoofing and campaigning, and, uh … it's usually up to me to take care of everything else.” “I figured since you keep sayin' you took over Ponyville, ya might as well take care of that end of things.” Applejack nodded, a faint smirk crossing her face. “Oh! Applejack! You shouldn't have!” Twilight jumped down from her throne and swept the cowpony up in a hug. “You're helping me run my nascent empire more efficiently-- looks like you've turned evil after all!” “I dunno if I'd say that.” Applejack said, and pushed Twilight gently but firmly away. “It's just a little paperwork!” Twilight said, trotting happily over towards Manilla Folder. “There's nothing quite like proper and thorough organization. Taking care of this should be a cinch!” She beamed, and then used her magic to open up Manilla's saddlebags. “What's first on the checklist?” She asked, already beginning to cycle through the papers. “Well. Uh. There's not a 'checklist' so much as a list of deadlines.” Manilla Folder managed not to tremble in the presence of the great conquering princess, if barely. “Most of which we've actually missed by this point, so it's more a matter of which ones are the most overdue.” Twilight frowned, and looked up from her reading. “Alright then, what has the biggest priority?” “I … I guess the budget is the best place to start?” “Perfect!” Twilight shuffled through paperwork for a few minutes until she found the proper ledger. “It should be easy to--” She trailed off as she opened the accounting book up. “That … is a lot of red ink.” She sighed. “Okay, so, we just need to balance the town's checkbook, that's all. I mean, I'm an evil overlord, I can demand tribute, right?” “There is a tax structure in place.” Manilla Folder noted. “There's even talks to establish a local sales tax district.” “Oh! Perfect! See Applejack? This is easier than I thought!” Twilight grinned, and then pulled a map of Ponyville out of Manilla's saddlebag. The familiar layout of the town was there-- though with an amorphous, winding blob of red superimposed over it. Twilight studied the districting map for a few long moments, and frowned. “And you say this is the local sales tax district.” Manilla Folder nodded. “But … there aren't any stores in it.” “Well, yes.” Manilla Folder said. “In fact, it looks like someone took the time and effort to draw the lines specifically around every major business in Ponyville.” “The Chamber of Commerce can be, uh … persuasuve.” Manilla Folder murmured. “Oh good.” Rarity looked over Twilight's shoulder. “My boutique's outside of the zone, just like they said it'd be.” “You knew about this?” Twilight turned to her friend. “Not the exact details, but I was aware.” Rarity made an airy little wave of a hoof. “It's a good thing, too, as I expect I'll be getting a lot of orders for capes and such before long. Black is 'in' this season, you know.” “But … it's a tax district that doesn't collect any taxes!” Twilight sputtered. “That doesn't make any sense!” “It's not supposed to.” Manilla Folder added on. “It's politics.” “Don't tell me everything in your saddlebags is that bad.” Twilight rubbed at her eyes. “Of course not.” The harried looking administrative assistant shook her head. “Most of it gets more complicated. The weather contract from Cloudsdale needs re-negotiating, the Sanitation Workers Union is demanding hazard pay to deal with potentially otyugh-infested sewers, and Spoiled Rich has filed a formal complaint against every book in Cheerilee's curriculum.” “That's everything?” Twilight groaned. “Everything that came in this morning.” “Welp!” Applejack beamed. “I reckon I'll just take my folks n' head home now. Looks like you got plenty of work to do, what, with the evil overlordin' and all.” “Just a little paperwork.” Twilight forced a smile. “Nothing I can't deal with.” “That's right, Twilight.” Applejack nodded. “I mean, this is just one town ya gotta deal with. Ain't nothin' for somepony as smart as you are. I bet you could deal with a hundred towns worth a' bureaucratin'! Which you'll prolly have to, iffin' you go ahead and take over all of Equestria.” “Equestria has three hundred and fifty eight royally chartered cities, villages, and townships.” Twilight rattled the figure off with the memorized familiarity of a four-time quiz bowl champion. “Not to mention the various unincorporated municipalities and frontier settlements.” Applejack grinned. “Then again, Miss Folder here's just got the stuff from Ponyville. Can you imagine how much red tape they gotta go through in someplace big n' fancy like Manehattan or Canterlot?” Twilight pursed her suddenly dry lips, and then gathered up the floating paperwork with meticulous care before she slid it back into Manilla Folder's saddlebags. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Applejack.” She nodded primly, and then turned to Manilla Folder. Twilight drew herself up a little taller, and flared her wings out, for genuinely imposing effect. “Manilla Folder, I hearby order you to continue fulfilling your duties exactly as you would under Mayor Mare's administration.” “Exactly?” Twilight mused for a moment. “Well … not exactly. You can move out of the basement office, if you like?” Manilla managed a nervous smile, and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Um. Thank you, Your Highness.” “You're welcome. Go forth and spill red ink in my name.” Twilight folded her wings and smiled a decidedly non-tyrannical smile as Manilla Folder quickly trotted off. The Princess of Friendship (and ostensibly, of evil) turned back to Applejack, looking smug. “See? Delegation. It's a very important leadership skill. So, you see, I won't have to personally attend to an entire empire's worth of paperwork! Once I take over, I'll just allow the established bureaucracy to continue running as it had before.” Applejack facehooved. “If you're gonna do that, what's the point of takin' over anythin' to begin with?” “Oh.” Twilight gasped as the revelatory concept hit her. “You're … you're absolutely right, Applejack.” “I figured you'd say that.” “It would be much more evil to let things go on as they are now! So inefficient. So unorganized.” Twilight shivered in revulsion. “It's just like the old saying: 'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good ponies to do nothing.' But--” Twilight's words built up speed as the gears turned within her head. “Does that mean I'm a good pony? I mean, if I'm doing nothing, I let evil triumph. Ipso facto, that's an evil act in and of itself … which means that I'm not really good, which means my doing nothing doesn't mean I'm good or evil-- it just means I'm lazy. Doesn't it?” “Snap outta it, Twilight!” Applejack grabbed Twilight by the shoulders and shook her. Hard. “You're one of the best ponies I've ever met! Which is how I know you ain't any good at bein' evil. That goes for the rest of you, too!” Applejack looked over her shoulder at the rest of her friends-turned-henchmares. “Applejack's right, being evil is lame.” Rainbow Dash reached back with one hoof to scratch at herself impolitely. “I think my bad guy outfit is beginning to chafe.” “And these weasels don't really want to rip anypony's flesh, either.” Fluttershy murmured, and gently shut the lid of the basket she was carrying. “Oh, Applejack!” Rarity swooned, and draped herself against the cowpony's side. “You have saved us all, with your bravery and plain-spoken words and ... deliciously toned musculature.” She began to trace one hoof over the curve of Applejack's shoulder. “Rarity.” Applejack whispered. “Ah.” Rarity's cheeks flushed bright red. “Sorry. It's just that wearing all this black lace and silk can get a lady into a mood and--” “Not. Now.” “Later, then?” Rarity said, hopeful. “I guess that's it.” Twilight sat back on her throne, which tilted to the side as one of the boxes it'd been set on began to crumple. “The end of my evil reign. I … I tried so hard, too.” “Ya sure did.” Applejack said. “But tryin's one thing, and doin's another. I mean, I could try all I wanted, but I ain't ever gonna fly around like Rainbow Dash does.” “Whoa.” Rainbow Dash stopped struggling with her evil-suit's zipper for a moment. “That's the most profound thing you've ever said, Applejack. Say it again.” “Actually.” Twilight mused aloud. “There's that transmogrification spell I used on Rarity a few years ago. It might be possible to modify such a spell for speed. Rainbow Dash would still have the advantage of a lifetime's worth of training and instinct, however.” “Damn right I would.” Rainbow Dash kicked her clingy bodystocking of villainy off of her back hooves. “You're missin' the point. Even if you did gimme wings, I wouldn't want 'em.” Applejack shook her head. “I'm a down to earth pony. Literally. Flyin' ain't in my nature-- just like evil ain't in yours. So why don't you get back to doin' the things that you're actually good at?” “But I'm already over analyzing the situation!” Twilight threw her hooves up in the air, and the sudden movement made her throne topple over backwards. “I meant helpin' folk.” “Oh. Right.” Twilight struggled back to her hooves (a process made no easier by her voluminous cape) and managed a wan smile. “I guess I'm good at that too.” “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Pinkie Pie held up one hoof. “So we're all gonna be good guys again, right?” “That's right, Pinkie.” Twilight struggled out of her cape and draped it over her upended throne. “I don't know about you, but I've had enough villainy for a lifetime.” “Yay!” Pinkie Pie flung off her domino mask and black stocking cap. “But, um. One last question.” “What's that?” Twilight canted her head to the side. “If we're good guys now, what am I supposed to do with the moon laser?”
Chapter 1“Just so you guys know,” said Twilight, “I've decided to turn evil.” As she watched open-mouthed expressions of bafflement cross the faces of her five best friends, Twilight began to wonder if weekly brunch was the best time to drop such momentous news. “I'm sorry, Twilight.” Rarity picked up a napkin and dabbed at the corner of her mouth, where crumbs of cinnamon roll certainly had not tumbled out when her jaw dropped. “I must be going deaf in my old age. It almost sounded like you said you were going to turn evil.” “That's what I said, yes.” Twilight nodded. “Hold on!” Pinkie Pie held one hoof up, and then used the other to pour the better part of a carafe of orange juice into her mouth. This done, she reared back and turned her head to spew the liquid out in a steady stream before she looked back at Twilight, wide-eyed. “WHAT?!” Rainbow Dash ducked beneath the spit-take (if barely) and then let out a titter of nervous laughter. “Ha ha. Good one, Twilight! Had us all going there for a sec. With your joke. Because that's just a joke. Right?” Her voice cracked. More than usual. “I'm deadly serious.” Twilight said. “Deadly?” Fluttershy murmured from where she took refuge behind her chair. “It's just a figure of speech.” Twilight said. “Turnin' evil is a figure of speech?” Applejack planted her front hooves on the table and tensed her shoulders for a brawl. “Ain't one I ever heard.” “Oh! No, it's not.” Twilight said. “I meant the 'deadly' part of deadly serious. In fact, I'm turning evil in order to make sure nopony dies, or even gets hurt!” Applejack squinted. “Now you're just talkin' nonsense.” “It makes sense, I swear!” Twilight said. She pulled in a steadying breath, and leaned back in her chair. “Just hear me out, okay?” “Oh man, supervillains love explaining their evil schemes!” Rainbow Dash squeaked. “Maybe Twilight really did turn evil!” Applejack facehooved. “Rainbow. Think. Twilight's always liked explainin' things.” Rainbow paled. “So you're saying she's been evil this whole time!?” “I'm not evil!” Twilight huffed. “Not yet, at least. That's the problem.” “How is that a problem?” Rarity said. “A dearth of villainy sounds like the exact opposite of a problem, from my point of view.” “That's what I thought, until recently.” Twilight nodded. “I mean, I've told you guys about Sunset Shimmer, right?” “Oh, oh, oh!” Pinkie Pie held one hoof straight in the air, as if she were in class. “I remember! She's the pony who stole your magic crown thingie and then went through that magic mirror to weirdo hu-maan land but then you chased her and stopped her and saved the day!” “That's right.” Twilight nodded, approvingly. “But that's not all of it. The important part is, even though Sunset Shimmer dabbled in dark magic, and nearly turned an entire school into her mind controlled minions, she got better after that, and went on to make friends and do a lot of good in that other dimension. She keeps me updated, through a magical diary that allows us to correspond across the planar barriers. And, y'know, for someone who once tried to take over the world, Sunset is actually doing really, really well. Also she may be dating the human dimension's version of me and I'm not sure how I feel about that.” Twilight furrowed her brow as she trailed off. “But that's beside the point.” “And the point is?” Rarity said as politely as she could. “In her last letter, Sunset mentioned getting a flu shot.” Twilight said. “Ugh. Needles.” Rainbow Dash shivered, and pulled her wings tighter around herself. “You really are turning evil.” “It wasn't the needle part that got me thinking.” Twilight's eyes took on a familiar, half-mad gleam. “It was the inoculation.” “Twilight said a dirty word!” Pinkie Pie said with a blush and a giggle. “Inoculation, Pinkie. Not … whatever you're thinking.” Twilight shook her head, and busied herself pouring a fresh cup of tea. “I'm talking about the practice of exposing someone to a weakened version of a disease, in order to grant them immunity from the greater form. It's actually a rather fascinating subject-- Princess Celestia herself made it a point to have herself immunized against ponypox when a scientist named Sawbones first developed the practice. Admittedly, Princess Celestia probably didn't need it, given her nigh-immortality, but she actually launched a fad amongst Canterlot's nobility where immunization became the most popular thing, to the point where ponies would wear the bandages over the needle-sticks as a sort of fashion accessory.” “Now that's just silly.” Rarity mused. “White gauze doesn't go with anything.” “Did everybody liquor up their mornin' coffee 'cept me?” Applejack looked down at her mug. “'cause none of this is makin' a lick of sense.” “It will make all the licks of sense!” Twilight pounded a hoof on the brunch table, hard enough to set plates and cutlery rattling. “Once I finish explaining, that is. Because the important part is, once I got to thinking about Sunset Shimmer and immunizations in the same context, I had an idea.” Twilight settled back in her chair, and lifted up her teacup with magic. “What if the same principles behind medical conditions could be applied to psycho-magical ones as well?” “Sorry Twi, that still sounds like crazy talk.” Applejack said. “That's what I thought at first.” Twilight took a prim sip of her tea. “Until I started to really mull it over. I mean, there's Sunset Shimmer … but there's also Princess Luna. Or even Discord! Each one of them has menaced the whole of Equestria, and each one of them has turned away from such a dark path, and proven themselves a better pony for it. Or, uh, a better Draconequus, in Discord's case.” “But that ain't everybody we've blastified.” Applejack said. “Whattabout that queen bug-lady? Or King Sombra? Or Tirek? Y'know, the big demon-centaur that blew up your house n' smashed you through a mountain n' tried to eat your soul? I don't see anypony invitin' any of them to Hearth's Warmin' Eve dinner anytime soon.” “Aha!” Twilight smiled, teacher-proud. “That's a very, very good point. One that I kept in mind when I started kicking this idea around. But when you think about it, they might actually support my theory. If Evil is a disease, then the likes of Queen Chrysalis are when it becomes terminal. Which makes building up a resistance all the more important!” “Resistance?” Pinkie Pie said. “So, uh. You guys know I don't like bragging or anything, but on an objective scale, I'm … pretty powerful. Magically speaking, that is.” Twilight flared her princessy wings out, as if to prove her point. “And, uh, with my current course of study and learning, it's only logical to assume that I'm going to keep amassing more and more magical potential for quite some time. I'm not saying I'm going to be as powerful Princess Celestia or anything, but … um, I definitely have the potential to at least make it within a tier or two of her level. So logically, it's better that I turn a little bit evil now, in order to immunize myself against it, instead of running the risk of an exponentially more powerful future version of myself really going bad and tearing the fabric of space-time apart or something.” Twilight drank the last of her tea, and then set her teacup down on its saucer. “Which is why I've decided to turn evil. Starting this afternoon, I think.” “And what, pray tell, has Spike said about this?” Rarity said. “He's actually all for it.” “Mwa ha ha ha ha!” Spike's laughed nearly drowned out the pitterpatter of his scaled feet as he dashed into the room. With his black top hat and cape, he looked as if he'd just come from the opera-- one where everyone died at the end, to judge by the way he twirled the ends of his glued-on mustache. “While you were having brunch, I rearranged the entire library! Now, everything is shelved by publication date, and not by subject or author's name! AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!” The little dragon swept his cape through the air, and dashed off, cackling. “See?” Twilight said. “It's better he get all this out of his system now, rather than in a century or two, when he's a couple stories tall. Can you imagine how much havoc he'd wreak if he were fully grown? If Spike really turned evil, he might forgo a cataloging system entirely!” “Question.” Rainbow Dash said. “If Spike's already evil, and you're gonna do the same thing, does that mean the rest of us should go evil too?” Applejack turned her ire onto the pegasus. “Rainbow, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said.” “Is not!” Rainbow Dash huffed. “Besides, there's no such thing as stupid questions. Twilight told me that.” “That's true.” Twilight said. “A healthy and unhindered sense of curiosity is essential to proper personal growth.” “Besides!” Rainbow Dash said, “I'm supposed to be the Element of Loyalty, right? There's no way I'm gonna let Twilight go through an evil phase all by herself!” “Thank you, Rainbow.” Twilight reached over and patted her friend on the shoulder. “I really appreciate that.” “And when I go evil, I get a cool costume, right?” Rainbow Dash grinned in eager anticipation. “Nevermind, that was officially the dumbest thing you've ever said.” Applejack grumbled. “Like, something really cool and scary! With skulls! And spikes! And skulls on spikes!” “Mmmm, I'm afraid I'll have to veto that, darling.” Rarity said. “Thanks, Rarity.” Applejack didn't bother hiding the relief in her voice. “You'd do much better with something clingy and form-fitting. Better range of movement, you know. Not to mention the sex appeal.” “What.” Applejack whipped her head around to glare at the white unicorn sitting beside her. “If she's going to do it, she might as well do it correctly.” Rarity flicked a meticulously curled lock of hair out of her eyes. “Besides, this could be a rather interesting opportunity. Black is 'in' this season, didn't you know?” “I didn't.” Applejack shook her head. “I can't believe y'all are just going along with this. I know I ain't the only one who thinks this is just a pile a' horsefeathers. Pinkie—” “What?” Pinkie Pie said from the other side of the room as she pushed a large cannon into place. Somewhere along the line, she'd donned a domino mask and a black shirt with 'HENCHMARE' printed across it in large block lettering. “Fluttershy.” Applejack looked over at the still-cowering pegasus. “C'mon. You're the nicest pony any of us know. Tell Twilight this is a bad idea.” “Oh. Um. Okay.” Fluttershy grabbed the back of her chair for support, and slowly peeked up over the top. “Twilight, all this talk about evil and stuff is really scary.” “See?” Applejack said. “Anythin' that's got Fluttershy that worked up has gotta be a bad idea.” “That doesn't mean anything!” Rainbow Dash pointed an accusatory hoof at Applejack. “Fluttershy's scared of everything! Like, one time I saw her hide under the table because of dessert!” “Only because it was on fire.” Fluttershy murmured. “It was supposed to be!” Rainbow said. “That's what makes Bananas Foster cool!” “Shouldn't that technically be hot?” Pinkie Pie scratched her head. “All I'm saying is just because Fluttershy's scared of something doesn't mean it's a bad idea.” Rainbow Dash zipped over to Fluttershy's hiding place, grabbed her, and plunked her back into her chair. “It might even mean it's an awesome idea.” “I don't think I wanna be evil.” Fluttershy said. “I knew I could count on you, Fluttershy.” Applejack tilted her hat back slightly. “But, um. If you need an army of animal minions, Twilight, I could help with that.” “What?” Applejack said. “Like, sharks? Every villain needs a bunch of sharks, right? Or how about weasels? I could get you a basket of flesh-tearing weasels in an hour, if you asked.” “That. Is. Awesome.” Rainbow Dash stared at her friend with newfound admiration. “You sure you're not good at this evil thing, Fluttershy? Because, like, what if you got a bunch of sharks, and then I got a tornado, and--” “And nothin'!” Applejack said. “I'm tellin' you, Twilight, this is a bad idea. You guys are the best friends a gal could ever have, 'cause you're all so nice n' stuff. Ain't right to just turn your backs on the things that make y'all such good ponies to begin with. I don't want anythin' to do with any of this.” “Oh, Applejack!” Rarity's eyes glittered. “This is even better!” “Huh?” Applejack peered at the unicorn sitting next to her. “It's just such a delicious narrative! You, betrayed, alone, forced to stand against your five best friends as we walk down the path of villainy!” “But only a little bit.” Twilight added on. “Yes, that.” Rarity noted, and then launched back into her rapturous debate. “But think, Applejack! It'll be like one of the great stories of old-- two ponies, their hearts entwined, separated by circumstance! Perhaps your inner goodness will shine through and redeem us all … or perhaps I may yet tempt you to the proverbial dark side?” “Tempt me.” Applejack said, deadpan. “You know.” Rarity made a weapons-grade flutter of her eyelashes. “Perhaps with my feminine wiles?” “That's it. I'm done.” Applejack shoved herself away from the table, and pulled her hat down over her eyes. “I'll be back at the farm. Y'all lemme know when you're done bein' dumb n' crazy.” She wasted little time in stomping out of the castle dining room, and slammed the door behind her. “Oh my.” Fluttershy stared at the door Applejack had stormed through. “We made her really mad. Does that mean we're evil now? “It's alright!” Twilight forced a smile. “I admit, this is one of my … wilder theories, which is saying something. And if Applejack doesn't want anything to do with it, that's her decision, which is perfectly acceptable. Plus, um, it gives us at least one data point towards a control group.” “So now what?” Pinkie Pie said from atop a pile of ominously blinking machinery with 'M.A.S.S. DEVICE' stenciled in a military font down one side. “Because seriously I've had a bunch of this mad scientist stuff laying around for a while now and I've been waiting for the chance to use it! Like, I'm pretty sure I have a mega-laser in the basement somewhere-- we could use it to draw our faces on the moon! Wouldn't that be fun?” “That's … tempting.” Twilight mused. “But remember Pinkie, we're only trying to be a little evil. So we should focus on something a little bit smaller.” “Like what?” “Well.” Twilight shrugged a little bit. “I thought we could start by taking over Ponyville.”
Chapter 2“Mayor Mare!” Twilight pushed past a bewildered-looking earth pony at the door to the mayor's cramped but well-appointed office, and Fluttershy followed close behind. Both of them were attired in their villainous best: dark eyeshadow, billowing capes, and scandalously-cut evening gowns, all courtesy of Rarity. “Princess?” Mayor Mare looked up from a cluttered stack of paperwork. “I don't remember scheduling a meeting, unless-- oh no, is it an emergency?” She haphazardly stuffed her files into a desk drawer (albeit after a little bit of stomping to pack the other files down) and turned her full attention onto Twilight. “Oh, it's an emergency … “ Twilight smiled, and swished her cape through the air. However, given the size (or lack therof) of Mayor Mare's office, Twilight's cape tangled itself around a key-to-the-town plaque hanging on the wall. Twilight fumbled around and yanked at her cape, causing both the fabric to tear, and the plaque to clatter to the floor. She cleared her throat and focused on the mayor once again. “For you!” Mayor Mare blinked. “I … don't follow.” “Oh, you will follow! Me, that is. Follow me. Because Ponyville is now under my control, effective immediately! As we speak, my friends-- er, my minions are securing key points around town, and there's nothing you can do about it! Mwa ha ha!” Twilight tried for a properly nefarious laugh, but it came out more than a little forced. “You're kidding,” Mayor Mare said. “Oh no, I'm deadly serious.” Fluttershy made a little whimper from the back of the room. “Figuratively speaking.” Twilight added on. “You really mean it, don't you.” The realization finally began to set in across Mayor Mare's face. “You're taking over Ponyville.” “That's right. And there's nopony who can stop me!” Twilight flung her cape across her other shoulder, and wrenched a black and white photo of some old-timey ribbon cutting ceremony off the wall. Mayor Mare sat back in her chair, stunned. Tears welled up in her eyes, and soon started to dribble down both sides of her muzzle. “Oh.” Twilight held a hoof up to her mouth, and winced. “Don't cry? Please? I didn't mean to--” “No. No.” Mayor Mare wiped her cheeks with an errant sheet of legislation. “It's okay. I'm just so, so happy.” Twilight blinked. “Wait what.” “I always thought the whole 'Princess' thing was just an honorary title, but I'm glad to see you're really stepping up to that responsibility.” Mayor Mare gave a nervous, derisive laugh, and tossed the crumpled and tear-stained page over her shoulder. “I mean, I do what I can, but I've been hoping someone else would run this town for years now. Do you know the last time I was able to take a vacation?” “Er, no?” Twilight said. “That makes two of us!” Mayor Mare sprang out of her chair with renewed vigor. “But, this is even better than I could have hoped!” She immediately made a circuit of her office, collecting personal knick-knacks off the shelves and dumping them into a cardboard box. “If I hurry, I'm pretty sure I can make the next Train to Manehattan-- and from there I can jump on one of the cruise ships heading south. I've heard Zebrica's beaches are wonderful this time of year.” “Hold on--” Twilight tried not to trip over her cape as she followed Mayor Mare around the room. “This isn't exactly what I had in mind.” “Oh, you'll do fine!” Mayor Mare beamed. “Just remember, there's a school board meeting tonight at seven. I usually don't go to those, but someone's been making a stink over some of the books not being 'appropriate for young children' or something. Oh! Speaking of making a stink, some engineers from the sewage company are supposed to stop by in a couple of hours. Honestly most of what they say goes right over my head-- I'm a politician, not a plumber –but as long as they keep the toilets flushing, I say just let them do whatever they want to do.” “But I--” “That's about it!” Mayor Mare dumped her personal belongings into a saddlebag, and then neatly tossed the bag onto her back. “I've got the rest of the week scheduled in my files over there.” She pointed to a precariously leaning tower of battered notebooks, post-its, and the occasional cocktail napkin. Twilight Sparkle felt her stomach churn as she gazed upon the small monument to disorganization. She half expected tiny Discord-cultists to start dancing around it and making sacrifices at any moment. “Oh!” Mayor Mare caught herself before walking past Fluttershy, and out the door. “I almost forgot the most important part!” She dashed back to her desk, opened the bottommost drawer, and pulled out a half-empty bottle of amber liquid. She took a celebratory swig, and then thumped the bottle back down on one of the few uncovered spots on her desk. Without a coaster. “You'll need this.” “But I--” “Thank you, thank you, thank you Princess Twilight!” Mayor Mare pulled Twilight into a grateful hug (ruffling some of Twilight's black lace in the process), and then dashed out the door. Twilight stared after her. “Wow.” Fluttershy murmured. “Maybe being evil isn't so bad after all.” “The good news is, our takeover of Ponyville has gone off without a hitch.” Twilight Sparkle mused aloud. “The bad news, nobody's seemed to notice.” She sat at the head of the conference table, surrounded by her best friends turned conspirators. City Hall wasn't quite as regal or comfy as Twilight's castle, but it seemed only appropriate to make use of the meeting room by right of conquest. “Yeah, what gives?” Rainbow Dash said. “I spent all day rounding up thunderclouds to look all scary and stuff, and then Thunderlane thanked me for doing his weatherwork for him.” “That's okay, Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie Pie's eyes shone blue behind her domino mask. “Once the Weather Dominator's up and running, you'll have all the scary weather you could ever want! I just need to track down an ion correlator, and we'll be good to go!” “What's an ion correlator?” Rainbow Dash said. “It correlates ions!” Pinkie Pie said, cheery. “Duh!” “Let's not get sidetracked.” Twilight said. “Pinkie, the mad science stuff is good, but I think we might wanna save that for later. Besides, didn't you say you were working on a different evil scheme?” “I sure did!” Pinkie Pie said, cheery. “I did something totally, horribly, unspeakably evil!” “Oh dear.” Fluttershy started to tremble. “What did you do?” “I made cupcakes!” “That doesn't count!” Rainbow Dash said. “You do that all the time!” “Yeah, but this time I used a secret ingredient!” Pinkie Pie narrowed her eyes, and the shadows around her seemed to grow longer. “Artificially flavored frosting.” “That's bad?” Rainbow Dash said. “Very.” Pinkie Pie nodded gravely. “The additional preservatives in artificially flavored frosting aren't very healthy.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “So I guess that's a start. Good work, Pinkie. Or, uh, bad work? Good at being bad-work? This villain stuff is harder than I thought.” “You'd think that being evil would attract more attention.” Rarity pouted. “Would you believe that absolutely no one's commented on my new look?” She took a moment to fidget with her cloak. “Um,” Fluttershy said, “that's not entirely true. Didn't Roseluck say you looked nice?” “She did! That's the worst part!” Rarity rolled her eyes. “I'm not supposed to look nice, I'm supposed to look evil. All the visual cues are here! The darker color palate is a reflection of my troubled soul, the asymmetrical patterns show my disdain for the current social order, and the sharp edges of my lapels indicate just how dangerous I am.” “Oooh, what're the fancy stockings for?” Pinkie Pie chimed in. “They make me feel pretty.” Rarity noted, matter-of-factly. “But honestly, with all the effort I put into this, you'd think somepony would notice. I've pretty much done everything but stand in the middle of town yelling 'Look at me! I'm nefarious!'” “Rarity, you're a genius!” Twilight said. “I know, darling, but thank you all the same.” “All we have to do is call a town meeting, and then we can tell everyone how evil we are!” “Thanks for coming, everypony!” Twilight Sparkle put both hooves on the podium, and looked out over the crowd. Not every pony in town had made it to the meeting (one particular apple-farmer was notably absent), but it was close. Every seat in town hall was filled, and several more ponies stood (or hovered, in the case of the occasional pegasus) in the back. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity were all positioned at strategic locations across the room, ready to intervene in case things got … heated. Not that it seemed likely, but proper evil needed a proper contingency plan. “I know this is on short notice, but I've got some important announcements to make--” “It's about time someone did something about the filth in this town!” Spoiled Rich shrilled from the front row. “Beg your pardon?” Twilight furrowed her brow. “This!” Spoiled Rich waved a battered paperback in the air. “'The Adventures of Buckleberry Finn!' Would you believe that so-called teacher Cheerilee is corrupting our youth with such drivel? This so-called 'novel' only encourages youth delinquency and the improper use of language! Won't anyone think of the children?” “Corrupt--” Twilight sputtered, and shook her head. “Look, I know that Buck Finn can be a … problematic book, but that doesn't make it any less worthwhile. In fact, that almost makes it more important, as we should use this as an opportunity to examine prejudices from the past that have endured to the modern day, albeit in different forms.” She stood up taller at the podium, resolute and lecturing. “Not to mention the fact that Samolaco Clemens is one of the most brilliant satirists to ever put pen to paper. In fact, I promise each and every one of you, that for as long as I reign over Ponyville, no book will be banned! I say, let the colts and fillies read whatever they want-- our place is to guide them, not to put arbitrary barriers in their way! Because books like Buckleberry Finn aren't going to 'corrupt' our-- well, your, considering I don't have any kids and don't intend to have any anytime soon – children! In fact, reading this book could be the very thing that inspires some little filly or colt to become the next Samolaco Clemens! A little bit of rough language is a small price to pay for that, don't you think?” Spoiled Rich stared at Twilight, shocked. She began to fumble out a reply, but her words were soon drowned out by the eager applause from the rest of the crowd. Twilight basked in the attention, feeling the warm satisfaction of a good deed done. “Oh wait.” Twilight murmured under her breath, and shook her head. She held up a hoof for silence. “While the freedom of literacy is very important, that's not why I brought all of you here today. What I wanted to say is--” “BLARG!” The raspy, hungry roar was enough to shake the timbers of Ponyville Town Hall. Many of those timbers were then reduced to kindling as a monster smashed through the far wall. Slimy and reeking, the creature seemed to be mostly based around a cavernous, tooth-filled mouth. Two beady eyes swayed back and forth on snail-like stalks, and two long, muscular tentacles flailed through the air, grabbing bits of debris and furniture to shovel into its mouth. It shambled forward on three stumpy legs-- and as it got closer, the creature's horrid smell (a piquant bouquet of rotted eggs and old curry) wafted through town hall. Naturally, chaos broke out. The gathered ponies stumbled over each other as they stampeded away, some of the more desperate ones flinging themselves out of windows in order to escape. Acting on instinct, Rainbow Dash streaked across the room, scooping up a young filly moments before a flailing tentacle could wrap around her. “What … what is it?” Rarity stammered in nose-holding horror. “Otyugh!” Twilight blurted. “My sentiments exactly.” Rarity backed up a few paces. “That thing is positively nauseating! Eeeugh!” “Not 'eeeugh,' otyugh!” Twilight said. “That monster is called an otyugh!” “That's a stupid name.” Rainbow Dash said as she circled around the otyugh, weaving between its flailing tentacles. “Why don't they just call it a crap monster?” “Just because it lives in sewage and eats sewage and covers itself in sewage doesn't mean it's a--” Twilight cut herself short. “Okay, it's kind of a crap monster, but we should use still use the proper term.” “BLARG!” said the otyugh as it crammed a tangle of folding chairs into its mouth. Rarity turned a little greener at the display. “But what's it doing here?” “I don't know!” Twilight said. “I mean, otyughs are extreme omnivores, in that they'll eat anything … but they usually don't come to the surface!” She threw up a magical barrier to deflect errant bits of splinters and spittle. “Unless … none of you guys summoned it, did you?” “Actually, I might be able to explain that part.” An earth pony wearing a construction helmet and headlamp poked his head out from behind the pillar he'd been using as cover. “Who're you?” Twilight teleported over to the same hiding spot. “My name's Royal Flush-- I'm with the Ponyville Sanitation Department.” He looked around. “We were digging a little deeper to make room for the new water main, when … uh, we found that.” He winced as the otyugh started to chew on the corner of the stage. “I was going to tell Mayor Mare, but she wasn't in her office.” “Okay, so that's where it came from, but how do we stop it?” Twilight said. “I was kind of hoping you'd have that covered, Princess.” Twilight facehooved. “Okay. Fine. I can deal with this.” She shook her head. “Just go and get somewhere safe.” “Thanks, Princess Twilight!” And with that, Royal Flush dashed away. Twilight grit her teeth, and turned back to the otyugh, already summoning up her magical energy reserves. “It's just another giant monster everyone!” She called out. “Nothing we haven't dealt with before! We just need to stay calm and--” “My cape!” Rarity shrieked. She looked down at the brownish-greenish glob of … something that had splattered onto her outfit, and then glared daggers at the otyugh responsible. “Do you know how long it took me to make this?” Rarity's horn sent a blazing streak of magic across the room, into the otyugh's slimy bulk. “BLARG!” The otyugh lumbered forward, bearing down on Rarity. The unicorn leapt to the side, ballet-graceful, but the otyugh curled a tentacle into Rarity's cape, cutting her escape short. It hoisted her up into the air, dangling her above its toothy maw. Rarity flailed, desperate and terrified as the yellowed fangs grew closer and closer. She screamed. Her scream of horror turned to more of a confused squeak as a yellow and black blur zipped through the air, yanking Rarity out of harm's way. All that was left in the otyugh's tentacle was a scrap of dark silk (which it ate anyway). “Sorry I tore your outfit!” Fluttershy said, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. “Given the alternative, I'll manage.” Rarity tried to keep casual, despite her racing heart. “I'll just make another one. Designing outfits is only marginally more challenging than dealing with the occasional monster.” “You can't solve every problem with a makeover, Rarity!” Rainbow Dash yelled from across the room. “I can try!” “Wait, that's it!” Twilight beamed as the inspiration struck her. “Rarity, where do you keep your perfumes?” “The top-left drawer on my bedroom vanity.” Rarity said. “... why do you ask?” “I'll be right back! Don't get eaten while I'm gone!” Twilight disappeared in a burst of teleportation magic. A few chaotic, flailing-filled minutes later, Twilight returned, carrying a paper bag with her. “Alright, everypony! Arm up!” With that, she began tossing delicate-spray bottles of perfume to her friends (much to Rarity's chagrin). “Twilight, what're you doing? That's Eau de Canterlot-- it's a limited edition scent!” “Even better!” Twilight said, and held a couple spray-bottles in the air with her telekinesis. “The otyugh has a very sensitive olfactory system, like many subterranean species. It's used to living in filth, but if we present it with the opposite of that … “ Twilight strode fearlessly towards the slimy crap-monster, and sprayed it with a puff of Eau de Canterlot. “BLARG!?” The otyugh recoiled in horror, as if it had been scalded by hot water. Twilight smiled, and hit the otyugh again. And again. “C'mon girls! I'm going to need your help!” With that, the five of them converged on the otyugh, spraying away with their perfume bottles. With the otyugh-repellent properties of the fancy scents, it was a simple matter to herd the creature back into an open sewer drain, which the otyugh slipped through with a sickening 'splorp!' noise. “Alright!” Twilight Sparkle panted, and dumped the last of her Eau de Canterlot down the drain. “All we need to do is make sure all the major drains and sewer lines in town get lined with perfume, and that should keep the otyugh from getting out again.” No sooner had she outlined her plan and turned around, the citizens of Ponyville emerged from their hiding places and started talking amongst themselves. “They did it!” “She stopped the monster!” “They saved us all!” “She's a hero!” “Three cheers for Princess Twilight!” “And her friends!” Within moments, Twilight and company were hefted up onto the shoulders of an adoring, cheering crowd. Twilight blushed at the attention, trying to play it off. “Oh, just another Tuesday. You know how it is.” “Um. Twilight?” Fluttershy said, somehow managing to be heard over the din. “What's that?” “Aren't we still trying to be evil?” “Oh.” Twilight said. “Crap.”
Chapter 3“I've got it figured out.” Twilight Sparkle dumped a load of books onto the round table in the center of her Imposing Doom Fortress (formerly Magical Friendship Castle). It'd taken her longer than she had planned to find the proper reference materials after Spike's villainous reorganization of her library, but such things were just the price of wickedness. “So, while it looked like we were doing good when we saved Ponyville from the cra-- from the otyugh, we were really just defending our conquest, so that means we're still bad guys.” “Whew!” Pinkie Pie took off her domino mask and wiped the nervous sweat from her face. “I'd hate to think I used artificially flavored frosting for nothing!” “But. Um. Does that mean we can stop being evil, then?” Fluttershy said. “I don't think so, no.” Twilight shook her head. “I've still got some more nefarious plans I'd like to implement.” “So do I!” Spike popped up from behind Twilight's chair, holding his cape up just below his fake moustache. “Behold, the fruits of evil!” With that, he tossed a handful of cloth scraps into the air, like monochrome confetti. The scraps floated down to land on the table, and the lettering on the tags could finally be seen. DO NOT REMOVE BY PENALTY OF LAW “I've already hit every mattress in the castle-- soon, I'll cut the tags off every mattress in all of ponyville! MWA HA HA HA!” Spike twirled his mustache with one hand, and snipped at the air with a pair of scissors in the other. “Good job! I'm very proud of you.” Twilight beamed. “Spike.” The corner of Rarity's eye began to twitch. “Are those my good fabric shears?” “Uh.” Spike's eyes went wide. “Evil awaits! Bye!” He dropped the scissors on the table, turned literal tail, and took off running. Rarity glared after him, but didn't pursue. Instead, she busied herself with picking up the scissors and examining the blades for any dulling or damage. Rainbow Dash facehooved. “I can't believe a baby dragon is better at being evil than we are.” “He does have a slightly different perspective on this than we do, I guess.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “Of course he's got a different perspective! He's short!” Rainbow said. “Not that-- I meant the fact that he's a dragon. There's still a lot of propaganda that stems from the centuries-old feud between the Chromatic and Metallic Dragons. It's ludicrous to assume that Spike's evil due to being a purple dragon, but rather, it's not unlikely that he's subconsciously internalized some of the stereotypes that he's read about over the years. Remind me to talk to him about that when this is all over.” “And just when will that be?” Fluttershy said. “I'm not sure yet. I'd at least like to unveil at least one evil plan.” Twilight opened up a book and began paging through it. “And I think I've got just the thing … “ “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Rainbow Dash leaned forward. “Are you gonna use dark magic to summon some big demon to blow up the world or something?” “I could do that.” Twilight didn't look up from her reading. “But I'm trying to be evil, not stupid. Heralding the way for an Elder One is honestly too time and resource intensive, not to mention counterproductive. I'd much rather conquer the world instead of feeding it to some ravenous hunger from beyond our comprehension of space-time.” “So what is your plan?” “I'm going to open a new wing of the Ponyville Hospital.” “Ooooh. I get it!” Pinkie Pie shivered in fear and also maybe anticipation. “You're going to give everypony better medical care so that way they live longer so that way they have more time to suffer from the inherent meaninglessness of existence! That's totally evil!” Pinkie Pie blinked her guileless blue eyes at the other four ponies at the table as they stared at her. “What? I've been reading Neightszche. That's what bad guys do, right?” “That's a little more … philosophical than what I had planned.” Twilight sat back in her chair. “I was just thinking we'd name it the 'Princess Twilight Sparkle Intensive Care Unit,' as a testament to my evil vanity. Or something. There's enough money for it in the 'discretionary spending' budget of the Mayor's office-- well, technically my office now, by right of conquest, but still. I'm pretty sure Mayor Mare just used this money for campaigning and direct-mailers and stuff, but if I misuse the funds for something else, I figure that's pretty evil. Not like there's anyone to stop me, anyway.” “Aha!” Rarity pointed her scissors at Twilight, quick enough to make the princess flinch. “That's it!” “You think taking advantage of poorly worded budget legislation is evil too?” “No, not that.” Rarity set her shears back down on the table, and everyone let out a breath. Uncaring, Rarity continued. “The reason we haven't been effective villains is because we don't have any opposition! We're nothing more than a quintet of fabulously dressed hooligans without anyone to properly oppose us. What we need, ladies, is a hero.” “You may have a point there.” Twilight said. “But it's not like we can put out an ad in the classifieds. 'Wanted: One Hero of Destiny. Magic Swords not provided.'” The corner of her lip turned up a little. “Or, I guess we could, but I doubt we'd get the caliber of hero necessary for our purposes.” “Oh! Oh! I know! I know!” Pinkie Pie waved a hoof in the air. “Why don't we just kidnap somepony? That's how it works in the fairy tales! The bad guys are always kidnapping Princesses and locking them in towers and stuff! And then a hero comes and lets them out!” “We've already got a Princess.” Rainbow Dash said. “Oh, right.” Pinkie screwed her face up in intense thought. “Then … what if we kidnap a Prince? Rarity sure scared Prince Blueblood back at the Grand Galloping Gala that one time-- it should be easy to catch him!” “NO.” Rarity snapped-- and then cleared her throat, playing off the sudden outburst. “I mean, ah, that's … a compelling idea, but we wouldn't want to get ahead of ourselves. Blueblood's in Canterlot, a place we decidedly haven't conquered.” “Yet.” Twilight said, absentmindedly. Rarity arched a brow. “Beg pardon?” “Oh, just planning ahead, that's all.” Twilight waved a hoof. “It's good to set your goals high, you know? But as is, we'd need to secure the geode mines of the Crystal Empire to ensure the materials needed to make the ether-batteries needed to feasibly mount a proper siege on Canterlot. Of course, if I were in Cadance's horseshoes, I'd probably find a way to backwards-engineer Sombra's dark magic to take the Crystal Empire out of phase with the primary timeline before letting that happen.” Twilight took a map of Equestria out of her pile of research materials and unfolded it over the table. She traced lines and borders with a hoof, lost in strategic thought. “And even if she didn't, we'd need to establish steady supply lines so we wouldn't freeze and starve in the winter like Gnollpoleon's army did. We'd probably have to annex every bit of arable land in the immediate area to make it work, including--” “Sweet Apple Acres!” Rarity said, with no small degree of enthusiasm. “Very good, Rarity.” Twilight smiled, teacherly. “The orchard is the cornerstone of local agriculture.” “Not to mention it's run by one of the most stubborn ponies I know!” Rarity sighed, dreamily. “If we start menacing Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack's sure to pay attention to me!” She blinked, and hastily added on. “Us. I meant us. Because we're evil now. Yes.” Twilight didn't look up from the map. “Whatever you say, Rarity. But we're going to have to be careful-- we don't want to damage the orchards, and we're going to need the Apple family's cooperation to make sure they're operating at peak efficiency.” “Darling.” Rarity steepled her hooves in front of her chin. “Just leave it all to me.” Applejack groaned as she walked into the kitchen. Honestly earned mud and sweat spattered her coat, and all four of her legs ached. She tossed her hat onto a hook by the door, and made a beeline for the refrigerator. She reached all the way to the back of the fridge, pulled out an earthenware jug, and uncorked it with her teeth. The cool, sweet cider didn't make Applejack's pains vanish, but it at least made them feel worthwhile. Applejack chugged down an unladylike swig of cider, gave an even more unladylike belch, and put the jug back in its proper place. It wasn't until she closed the refrigerator door that she noticed the wax-sealed envelope stuck to the front (with an apple-shaped magnet, naturally). Curious, Applejack pulled the letter off the fridge, and after a bit of fiddling (as well as the careful application of a paring knife) opened it. My Dearest Applejack, We have kidnapped your family. If you ever wish to see them again, you must come to Twilight's Magical Friendship Castle Imposing Doom Fortress and surrender yourself, as well as Sweet Apple Acres. You have until sunrise to make your decision. Choose wisely. R. P.S. If you would, wear something nice. “Huh.” Applejack glanced around the empty kitchen. “Thought it was quiet.” She bit the inside of her cheek, and re-read the letter, just to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her after a long day's work. Sure enough, the words remained the same, even if they didn't make any more sense on a second reading. Applejack got the cider out of the fridge again.
Chapter 4The Imposing Doom Fortress wasn't any of those things. During the course of her villainous conquests, Twilight hadn't had any time to redecorate; Nightmare Night was a long way off, so it was impossible to acquire the requisite number of plastic skulls. The palace turned fortress looked as shiny and inviting as ever-- which would have been fine if it weren't for the fact that it was relatively indefensible. While the narrow means of entry around the tree-shaped castle's 'trunk' provided a bottleneck for potential invaders, no precautions had been made otherwise. There were no murder-holes, no trapdoors, no portcullises, not even so much as a bucket labeled 'war rocks' set conspicuously by the window. With an original design geared more towards comfort than combat, there wasn't anything to prevent somepony from walking right in. Which is what Applejack did. “You made it!” Rarity jumped out of her chair and hid the tawdry romance paperback she'd been reading in the folds of her glittering cape. “I mean, ah, you made it.” She put some sweet menace into her tone. “I knew you'd have to submit to our evil plan eventually. Because we're so evil.” “Uh-huh.” Applejack squinted at Rarity, unimpressed. “Mmm. Well.” Rarity raked her eyes up and down Applejack's form, appraising. “Sticking to just the hat, I see. Pity. I was rather hoping to see you in that green number I made for you last season.” “Let's just get this over with.” “Oh-ho-ho-ho!” Rarity's hooves clicked on the tiled floor as she swept across the room, stepping close enough for the cowpony to smell her perfume. “Not so fast, my darling! The sweet taste of victory is one that must be savored, like a fine wine. Or perhaps even a refreshing … cider?” “Ain't nobody getting any refreshing 'til I see my family.” “But of course!” Rarity said. “You require a sign of good faith. So follow me!” She flicked her billowing cape, and then headed deeper into Twilight's Imposing Doom Fortress. Again, with no evil décor, the halls were more inviting than intimidating-- though a crooked NO LOITERING sign had been hastily tacked up to one wall. Spike stood below said sign, chuckling to himself and twirling his mustache. Soon enough, Rarity led the cowpony to the central throne room, and rested a hoof on the closed door. “Brace yourself, sweet Applejack, for you are about to gaze upon the blackest heart of wickedness!” “Whatever you say.” “That is, in fact, what I say! Don't say I didn't warn you!” Rarity shoved the heavy doors open, revealing the tableau in the room beyond. “Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!” Pinkie Pie sing-songed the phrase as she bounced on her hooves from one end of the throne room to the other. “Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!” Apple Bloom clung to the back of Pinkie's neck, giggling the whole way. As soon as she saw Applejack, Pinkie Pie skidded to a halt (about six inches above the floor) and waved a hoof cheerily. “You made it!” “Hey Applejack! I got kidnapped!” Apple Bloom pushed her head up through Pinkie's poufy mane. “Innit that neat!” “No, it ain't.” Applejack grumbled. She strode past the pair, and deeper into the throne room. At one end, Granny Smith sat in a thoughtfully-provided rocking chair, where she had naturally lapsed into her typically loud variety of reminiscent storytelling, with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy sitting nearby as her obligatory audience. Neither looked too interested in the story, but Granny Smith went on anyway. “Back in my day, Ponyville was lawless, I tells ya. Lawless! Had all kinds of skullduggerin' goin' on! Why, weren't a week that went by without some feller in a top hat went up n' tied me to the train tracks! N' sure as clockwork, Grandpa Smith would show up in the nick a' time n' rescue me. 'Course, he weren't Grandpa Smith back then. Everybody just called him Goldie-- short for Goldspur, y'know. His pappy wanted him ta be a big fancy rodeo star, y'see, which is why they gave 'im that name. Made a heck of a row when ol' Goldie got his cutie mark with a an apple on it, instead of a lasso or a cowboy hat or somethin'. Or maybe he shoulda gotten his cutie mark in somethin' else, if ya know what I'm sayin'.” Granny Smith leaned forward to nudge Rainbow Dash, knowingly. “I mean, a gal has to show her 'preciation for bein' rescued, right? And there ain't nothin' to get your blood up like nearly bein' flattened by the Five-Ten to Canterlot, I tell you what.” “I'll take your word for it?” Rainbow Dash said. “Wait, hold on, that ain't right. Weren't the Five-Ten that nearly run me over, I think it was the Three Eighty Five. Had ta be, 'cause every week they'd take a shipment a' onions back to Canterlot. There was a shortage at the time, 'cause of the war rationing. They even put up posters! “Save your onions, save your tears.” Or somethin' like that. Each pony only got one onion a week-- a yellow one, too, 'cause all the red ones had to go to the front. I think it was 'cause they wanted to make sure all the drill sergeants for the army had bad breath when they yelled at new recruits. Very 'portant part of the war effort. 'Course, y'know who really had bad breath? Ol' Daisy Grace. Nice 'nuff pony, but hoo boy, you did not want to get paired up with her durin' Winter Wrap Up. That was back when we had a real Winter Wrap Up, none of this playin' n' singin' that you whippersnappers get up to nowadays. Back in my day, it was considered a good year iffin' nobody's hooves turned black from frostbite. Builds character, that sorta thing!” Twilight Sparkle presided over the chamber, sitting in her throne and wearing an outfit that was mostly cape and shoulderpads. She'd at least made some steps to make the throne more imposing by propping it up on a couple of old boxes. The books tucked away in the throne's cushions were to be expected, but there was one particular detail that stood out. “MacIntosh.” Applejack stared at her brother, who knelt at the foot of Twilight's throne of ostensible evil. “Why in Equestria are you dressed like that?” “The chains and loincloth were his idea, actually.” Twilight noted. MacIntosh blushed. “ … Eeeyup.” “Aaaaand there's somethin' I could have gone my whole life without knowin'.” “Aesthetics are a very important part of evildoing, you know.” Twilight nodded, smiling. “About that.” Applejack planted her hooves and glared at Twilight. “Oooooh, this is even better than I expected!” Rarity stamped at the floor in eager excitement. “Brave, dashing Applejack, standing alone against the forces of darkness!” Twilight leaned back in her throne (which wobbled precariously at the shifting weight) and smiled. “You were right, Rarity, Applejack does have a heroic streak. I'm just curious to see how she could possibly oppose the five of us all by herself.” Twilight signalled with one hoof, at which point Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash all closed in to surround Applejack in the middle of the room. “She's just one pony, after all.” “That's why I brought help.” With that, Applejack put a hoof to her lips and whistled, ear-searingly loud. At the whistle, a harried-looking earth pony with glasses and her brown mane turned up in a bun peeked nervously into the throne room. “Is it safe?” She asked in a very small voice. “It's always been safe. Now c'mon.” Applejack said with a roll of her eyes, and then waved the pony over. “Twilight, I'd like you to meet Manilla Folder.” “Hi there!” Twilight said with a cheeriness not usually seen in despotic tyrants. “Um. Hi?” Manilla Folder walked into the throne room-- slowly, on account of the heavy, bulging saddlebags she carried. “This is perfect!” Twilight said. “Are you a young but unsure student of magic who's setting out to prove herself worthy of her own destiny?” “No?” “Oh, I know! You're a psychologist who's going to teach me a very important lesson about friendship and how I'm only hurting my friends with my turn to the dark side!” “Not that, either.” “So you're … a master of escrima who's going to hit us with a stick until we stop being evil?” “Nope.” “Okay?” Twilight blinked. “If you don't mind my asking, what do you do?” “I'm an administrative assistant.” Manilla Folder said in a very small voice. “Mayor Mare's administrative assistant, to be specific. Or, uh, technically yours now, since you're in charge?” “Oh.” Twilight rubbed at her chin. “I don't remember meeting you before?” “I … don't get out much, to tell the truth. Most of the time I just stay in my office in the basement and try to keep things running as best I can. Mayor Mare does the glad-hoofing and campaigning, and, uh … it's usually up to me to take care of everything else.” “I figured since you keep sayin' you took over Ponyville, ya might as well take care of that end of things.” Applejack nodded, a faint smirk crossing her face. “Oh! Applejack! You shouldn't have!” Twilight jumped down from her throne and swept the cowpony up in a hug. “You're helping me run my nascent empire more efficiently-- looks like you've turned evil after all!” “I dunno if I'd say that.” Applejack said, and pushed Twilight gently but firmly away. “It's just a little paperwork!” Twilight said, trotting happily over towards Manilla Folder. “There's nothing quite like proper and thorough organization. Taking care of this should be a cinch!” She beamed, and then used her magic to open up Manilla's saddlebags. “What's first on the checklist?” She asked, already beginning to cycle through the papers. “Well. Uh. There's not a 'checklist' so much as a list of deadlines.” Manilla Folder managed not to tremble in the presence of the great conquering princess, if barely. “Most of which we've actually missed by this point, so it's more a matter of which ones are the most overdue.” Twilight frowned, and looked up from her reading. “Alright then, what has the biggest priority?” “I … I guess the budget is the best place to start?” “Perfect!” Twilight shuffled through paperwork for a few minutes until she found the proper ledger. “It should be easy to--” She trailed off as she opened the accounting book up. “That … is a lot of red ink.” She sighed. “Okay, so, we just need to balance the town's checkbook, that's all. I mean, I'm an evil overlord, I can demand tribute, right?” “There is a tax structure in place.” Manilla Folder noted. “There's even talks to establish a local sales tax district.” “Oh! Perfect! See Applejack? This is easier than I thought!” Twilight grinned, and then pulled a map of Ponyville out of Manilla's saddlebag. The familiar layout of the town was there-- though with an amorphous, winding blob of red superimposed over it. Twilight studied the districting map for a few long moments, and frowned. “And you say this is the local sales tax district.” Manilla Folder nodded. “But … there aren't any stores in it.” “Well, yes.” Manilla Folder said. “In fact, it looks like someone took the time and effort to draw the lines specifically around every major business in Ponyville.” “The Chamber of Commerce can be, uh … persuasuve.” Manilla Folder murmured. “Oh good.” Rarity looked over Twilight's shoulder. “My boutique's outside of the zone, just like they said it'd be.” “You knew about this?” Twilight turned to her friend. “Not the exact details, but I was aware.” Rarity made an airy little wave of a hoof. “It's a good thing, too, as I expect I'll be getting a lot of orders for capes and such before long. Black is 'in' this season, you know.” “But … it's a tax district that doesn't collect any taxes!” Twilight sputtered. “That doesn't make any sense!” “It's not supposed to.” Manilla Folder added on. “It's politics.” “Don't tell me everything in your saddlebags is that bad.” Twilight rubbed at her eyes. “Of course not.” The harried looking administrative assistant shook her head. “Most of it gets more complicated. The weather contract from Cloudsdale needs re-negotiating, the Sanitation Workers Union is demanding hazard pay to deal with potentially otyugh-infested sewers, and Spoiled Rich has filed a formal complaint against every book in Cheerilee's curriculum.” “That's everything?” Twilight groaned. “Everything that came in this morning.” “Welp!” Applejack beamed. “I reckon I'll just take my folks n' head home now. Looks like you got plenty of work to do, what, with the evil overlordin' and all.” “Just a little paperwork.” Twilight forced a smile. “Nothing I can't deal with.” “That's right, Twilight.” Applejack nodded. “I mean, this is just one town ya gotta deal with. Ain't nothin' for somepony as smart as you are. I bet you could deal with a hundred towns worth a' bureaucratin'! Which you'll prolly have to, iffin' you go ahead and take over all of Equestria.” “Equestria has three hundred and fifty eight royally chartered cities, villages, and townships.” Twilight rattled the figure off with the memorized familiarity of a four-time quiz bowl champion. “Not to mention the various unincorporated municipalities and frontier settlements.” Applejack grinned. “Then again, Miss Folder here's just got the stuff from Ponyville. Can you imagine how much red tape they gotta go through in someplace big n' fancy like Manehattan or Canterlot?” Twilight pursed her suddenly dry lips, and then gathered up the floating paperwork with meticulous care before she slid it back into Manilla Folder's saddlebags. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Applejack.” She nodded primly, and then turned to Manilla Folder. Twilight drew herself up a little taller, and flared her wings out, for genuinely imposing effect. “Manilla Folder, I hearby order you to continue fulfilling your duties exactly as you would under Mayor Mare's administration.” “Exactly?” Twilight mused for a moment. “Well … not exactly. You can move out of the basement office, if you like?” Manilla managed a nervous smile, and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Um. Thank you, Your Highness.” “You're welcome. Go forth and spill red ink in my name.” Twilight folded her wings and smiled a decidedly non-tyrannical smile as Manilla Folder quickly trotted off. The Princess of Friendship (and ostensibly, of evil) turned back to Applejack, looking smug. “See? Delegation. It's a very important leadership skill. So, you see, I won't have to personally attend to an entire empire's worth of paperwork! Once I take over, I'll just allow the established bureaucracy to continue running as it had before.” Applejack facehooved. “If you're gonna do that, what's the point of takin' over anythin' to begin with?” “Oh.” Twilight gasped as the revelatory concept hit her. “You're … you're absolutely right, Applejack.” “I figured you'd say that.” “It would be much more evil to let things go on as they are now! So inefficient. So unorganized.” Twilight shivered in revulsion. “It's just like the old saying: 'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good ponies to do nothing.' But--” Twilight's words built up speed as the gears turned within her head. “Does that mean I'm a good pony? I mean, if I'm doing nothing, I let evil triumph. Ipso facto, that's an evil act in and of itself … which means that I'm not really good, which means my doing nothing doesn't mean I'm good or evil-- it just means I'm lazy. Doesn't it?” “Snap outta it, Twilight!” Applejack grabbed Twilight by the shoulders and shook her. Hard. “You're one of the best ponies I've ever met! Which is how I know you ain't any good at bein' evil. That goes for the rest of you, too!” Applejack looked over her shoulder at the rest of her friends-turned-henchmares. “Applejack's right, being evil is lame.” Rainbow Dash reached back with one hoof to scratch at herself impolitely. “I think my bad guy outfit is beginning to chafe.” “And these weasels don't really want to rip anypony's flesh, either.” Fluttershy murmured, and gently shut the lid of the basket she was carrying. “Oh, Applejack!” Rarity swooned, and draped herself against the cowpony's side. “You have saved us all, with your bravery and plain-spoken words and ... deliciously toned musculature.” She began to trace one hoof over the curve of Applejack's shoulder. “Rarity.” Applejack whispered. “Ah.” Rarity's cheeks flushed bright red. “Sorry. It's just that wearing all this black lace and silk can get a lady into a mood and--” “Not. Now.” “Later, then?” Rarity said, hopeful. “I guess that's it.” Twilight sat back on her throne, which tilted to the side as one of the boxes it'd been set on began to crumple. “The end of my evil reign. I … I tried so hard, too.” “Ya sure did.” Applejack said. “But tryin's one thing, and doin's another. I mean, I could try all I wanted, but I ain't ever gonna fly around like Rainbow Dash does.” “Whoa.” Rainbow Dash stopped struggling with her evil-suit's zipper for a moment. “That's the most profound thing you've ever said, Applejack. Say it again.” “Actually.” Twilight mused aloud. “There's that transmogrification spell I used on Rarity a few years ago. It might be possible to modify such a spell for speed. Rainbow Dash would still have the advantage of a lifetime's worth of training and instinct, however.” “Damn right I would.” Rainbow Dash kicked her clingy bodystocking of villainy off of her back hooves. “You're missin' the point. Even if you did gimme wings, I wouldn't want 'em.” Applejack shook her head. “I'm a down to earth pony. Literally. Flyin' ain't in my nature-- just like evil ain't in yours. So why don't you get back to doin' the things that you're actually good at?” “But I'm already over analyzing the situation!” Twilight threw her hooves up in the air, and the sudden movement made her throne topple over backwards. “I meant helpin' folk.” “Oh. Right.” Twilight struggled back to her hooves (a process made no easier by her voluminous cape) and managed a wan smile. “I guess I'm good at that too.” “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Pinkie Pie held up one hoof. “So we're all gonna be good guys again, right?” “That's right, Pinkie.” Twilight struggled out of her cape and draped it over her upended throne. “I don't know about you, but I've had enough villainy for a lifetime.” “Yay!” Pinkie Pie flung off her domino mask and black stocking cap. “But, um. One last question.” “What's that?” Twilight canted her head to the side. “If we're good guys now, what am I supposed to do with the moon laser?”
