The 'Collection'
Trixie hurriedly trotted back towards the town of Ponyville, her face drawn in an expression of severe worry. Accompanying her nervous hoof steps was the faint screech of a squeaky wheel. The unicorn had been ignoring it for some time, but now that she was arriving back into town she realized that it might wake somepony up. Trixie came to an abrupt stop and turned around. Behind her was a foal’s Radio Flyer wagon, slightly dented from hours of play. Trixie had stolen it from an unlocked shed from a farm on the outskirts of town. Ordinarily she would have felt at least a twinge of remorse for stealing a foal’s toy, but she was much too worried about herself.
The magician quietly turned it upside down and looked at the back left wheel, which was in bad need of grease. Not having any grease, Trixie resorted to doing the only thing she could think of. She snorted and hocked, and moments later a large gob of spit fell on the axel. Trixie hastily rubbed it in, righted the wagon and then wiped her hoof off on the grass. The unicorn then continued towards the town of Ponyville, trotting twice as fast as she had before. It was only a matter of minutes before she reached Mane Street. The mare jarred up as she heard the wagon clatter noisily as it rolled over the cobblestones. She looked back at it with a grimace, which quickly vanished as she had an idea.
A strange, hunchbacked shadow could be seen against the wall of Bonbon’s sweet shop, shuffling down Mane Street with as much haste as it could. Casting this shadow was Trixie, who was now carrying the wagon on her back. It wasn’t overly heavy, but it was difficult to balance. Levitating it had been out of the question, as that required some level of concentration. Trixie was unable to concentrate on anything except her troubles, which to be fair were very great at the moment.
Her mind was in turmoil. She had left everything when she had fled, not bothering to even grab her hat and cape. But despite how attached she was to them, her clothes weren’t what she was after. She was after something that had kept her company during her long nights on the road, something that she loved almost as much as life itself. If it hadn’t been for that something, the unicorn didn’t know how she’d survive by herself. She just hoped that it had survived the destructive paw of the Ursa minor. If not, Trixie figured she had at least ten minutes to get out of town before she lost her mind.
By now she could see the shattered remains of her cart beneath the faint glow of the streetlights, which had been relit after the Ursa had rampaged through town only hours earlier. Trixie gave a relieved smile. The light would make it somewhat easier to search through the broken boards and splintered panels. Maybe she was finally catching a break tonight. She had no doubt that it had been the worst night of her life, as she had simultaneously lost her home and been humiliated. Though Trixie was a clever mare, it had never crossed her mind that perhaps it was her bragging that had brought her this misfortune. Rather, she placed the blame on the two colts who had worshipped her despite her obvious contempt for them.
Therefore, she was all the more dumbfounded when she heard their prepubescent voices coming from the town square.
“Hey,” came the voice of the mustard-colored unicorn known as Snails, “What should we do with this picture frame?”
“Is it wood, glass, or metal?” said the lisping voice of Snips, the pale blue unicorn.
“Well, it’s got a glass part,” said Snails, “And the back of it’s made of wood, and I think it’s held together by screws…So I guess it’s all three.” Trixie looked ahead to see the two colts staring at a framed photograph of herself. It was only one of the many portraits she had adorned the living space of her cart with.
“Do you think we should try taking it apart, or just put it with the garbage?” said the bucktoothed Snips. Trixie grimaced as she saw the love-struck grin Snails gave the picture.
“I kinda wanna keep it,” he said.
“Well,” added Snips as he moved beside his friend to look at the image of the fraudulent magician, “I guess we could keep this one. Put it with the others.” Trixie shuddered as she saw them place it in a small pile with the other numerous framed pictures of herself.
By now Trixie was on the verge of panicking. It was obvious that the two mentally impaired colts were cleaning up the pieces of her once-magnificent cart as if it were nothing but garbage. To add insult to injury, it appeared that they were sorting some of it down into recyclables. Trixie would have been enraged, but she was just too concerned with what was to become of her precious collection. The thought of it being recycled; shredded down and liquefied to be made into new paper, almost made the unicorn crumple into a palled heap of misery. But it would be even worse for her secret to be exposed. If word got out about her collection, Trixie would be ruined.
Therefore, Trixie wracked her brain to come up with a way to retrieve her property without alerting her presence to the two colts who were cleaning up the streets. Her unnerved mind raced through countless ideas, but each one was met with rejection. Just as she was contemplating murder by asphyxiation, it suddenly occurred to her that she was making it far more complicated than it needed to be. It was obvious that if Snips and Snails willingly sought out an Ursa to wake up, they weren’t overly intelligent. And because Trixie worked in show business, she knew that simple minds were entertained by simple things.
“Hey, Snails, what’s that?” Snails looked up to see his friend pointing a hoof at a small, glowing green orb that came hovering into the square.
“…A firefly from Tartarus?” suggested the teal-maned pony. It could have been, for all he knew, as the orb began to gently zigzag around the street. Snips and Snails watched with wide eyes, transfixed by the pulsating light. The sphere continued to duck, dive, and dodge with an effortless grace attributed to a butterfly. It suddenly flittered around a corner and began dipping down the street.
“Hey, where’s it going?” cried Snips, already running after the beautiful light.
“Wait up!” called Snails as he dashed after him.
Once they were gone, Trixie frantically rushed out to the pile of wood that had been her cart only hours earlier. The spell she’d used to draw there attention was a simple one, and would only last for a few minutes. The magician set right to work digging through the wreckage, keeping her wagon nearby so she could make a quick getaway once she reclaimed her collection. But as she began, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. The mess was so jumbled and scattered that she couldn’t even tell what had been stage and what had been wall. There were a few chunks of what had been the roof frame to give her some reference, but other than that she could hardly discern what the layout of her living area.
“Where is it?” she muttered through clenched teeth as she wildly shoved a pile of boards aside, “Where is it?!” She searched rabidly through the tangled heap, at one point even lifting up cracked dresser to see what was underneath. Inevitably she found the marker she was looking for, as there was only a certain amount of room in a traveling cart. Trixie grinned wildly as she spotted a scrap of blue fabric protruding from a toppled pile of wood. The unicorn dug through the boards until she came across her bed, its frame now bent and crooked. With a twinkle of madness in her eyes, she flipped it over, not noticing the loud crunch it made as the heavy mattress crushed a portion of the roof. Trixie looked at the spot where it had been, instinctively reaching out for her collection.
But it wasn’t there. The unicorn stood still for a moment, still smiling as she looked over the cluster of crushed cardboard boxes that held various items Trixie had stored under her bed. However, the green trunk in which she kept her collection was not among them. This did not compute right away for Trixie. Slowly her smile morphed into a shocked, open-mouthed frown. The unicorn pawed at the empty space where the trunk should have been, half-hoping that it would reappear.
“No…” she murmured, “No, no, no, no, no…” For a minute she sat staring at the empty space, her mind empty of any emotion whatsoever. She was so utterly stunned that she failed to notice the return of Snips and Snails, even when they were only a few steps away. The two colts looked upon the magician with confusion, which was typically what they expressed when confronted with most things.
“Trixie?” cried Snips, “What are you doing here?” Both he and his comrade jumped when Trixie turned to address them. On her face was a demented, desperate look, the kind of look that most would associate with someone who was the victim of a mind-shattering tragedy. It suddenly disappeared as the mare vigorously shook her head. Now she wore an expression of deep concern and nervousness, but the two colts had trouble unseeing the maniacal grimace she had donned moments earlier.
“There…there was a green trunk underneath this bed,” she breathed, her voice cracking uncontrollably, “Wha--…what happened to it?” Both Snips and Snails looked very uncomfortable upon hearing this. They looked at each other and gulped, then turned back to the distraught mare.
“Um…” began Snails, “Do you mean the one with…with…uh…”
“…Those magazines?” finished Snips.
“Yeah, those,” added Snails. Both colts suddenly felt Trixie’s hooves around their necks, dragging them forward into her once again deranged face.
“Yes!” she hissed through her teeth, “Where are they?! What did you do with them?! Trixie needs her magazines!” The terrified colts trembled violently in the magician’s grasp. Snips finally managed to choke out an answer.
“Twilight Sparkle took them,” he sputtered. Trixie’s grasp tightened, causing their faces to change colors.
“Where does she live?” she murmured in a terrifying whisper.
“The…library…” wheezed Snails. An instant later the two imbeciles were released, and they turned around just in time to see Trixie sprinting into the night. As the color returned to their faces, Snails smiled dumbly.
“Hey, Snips…” he sighed, “She touched us…”
“But she tried to kill us,” said the orange-maned Unicorn.
“My dad says they all do that,” replied Snails. Snips began to smile, as he realized that Snails was probably right.
Trixie came to a screeching halt just outside of the library’s door. Light poured out of every window, indicating that the owner was very much awake. This foiled Trixie’s plan before she could even put it into action, as she had intended to break in and steal back her property while Twilight was sleeping. Now she had no idea how to reclaim what was hers, and silently sat outside on the doorstep as she tried to rethink her plan. But in the silence, she began to hear voices from the inside.
“My, my, my,” chimed a classy mare’s voice, “Who would have known?”
“I coulda guessed it,” came a southern drawl, “You know the sorta ponies who hoard these aren’t right in the head to begin with.”
“Hey, guys, check this out!” said a tomboyish voice, “This guy is ripped!” Trixie’s heart skipped a beat as she heard a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’.
“Oh dear…” swooned the classy voice, “I think I’m in love.”
“That’s enough, girls,” huffed a voice that belonged to somepony Trixie had grown to loathe in the last few hours. The magician’s eyes went wide with horror, rage, and a multitude of other emotions. Without thinking she rammed into the door with adrenaline fueled strength, knocking it from its hinges. Inside she saw a sight that made her spirits sink in shame.
Four ponies were crowded around a massive trunk surrounded by stacks and stacks of Playmare magazine, each issue’s cover adorned with handsome, incredibly muscled stallions gazing out at the world seductively.
“GIVE THOSE BACK!” roared the manic magician as she charged forward, her horn glowing menacingly. She only managed to get two steps into the room before she slammed into a purple force field created by her nemesis. The blue unicorn snorted and tried five more times to ram her way into the dome of energy, nearly giving herself a concussion with each attack. At last she crumpled to the floor, exhausted.
“Trixie…” Twilight said sheepishly, as she trotted over to the edge of the dome, “…Um…well, hello.” In a second Trixie was back on her hooves, pressed close against the surface of the transparent barrier.
“Thieves!” she screeched as she pounded her hooves against the force field, “Dirty, rotten, evil thieves!”
“Dirty?” Rarity said incredulously, “I am not dirty!”
“If anypony’s dirty, it’s you,” Rainbow Dash snickered as she pointed a hoof at Trixie, “You’re the one with the trunk full of smut.” The other ponies in the room giggled, prompting Trixie to blush despite her fury.
“We didn’t exactly mean to steal from you,” Twilight said, trying to avoid the threatening stare of the disgruntled unicorn, “We didn’t think you were coming back.”
“Well here I am,” bellowed Trixie, “And now you have to give them back!”
“Well, we don’t have to,” quipped Dash as she cantered over beside Twilight, “I mean, we could always keep them here and start an adult section. Of course, we'd give you credit for the donation, seeing as you've written your name in all of them." Trixie turned an interesting shade of scarlet as the pegasus gave her a snide grin. "By the way, pretty cool how you dot your I's with stars.” Trixie screamed in frustration as she began to beat against the force field again.
“Give them back!” she bawled, “Give them back!” Twilight watched as the mare dejectedly slumped to the floor, her body sliding along the dome as she went.
“Trixie, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” said the purple unicorn, her voice full of genuine concern, “Your, um, collection seems a bit--”
“You want them for yourself!” raged the magician, “You want them because you’re a lonely, depraved loser who can’t get anypony to like her!” Offended and hurt, Twilight was about to interject, but before she could Trixie continued on her tirade.
“I see how you are!” Trixie spat venomously, “Oh, you act all high and mighty, but you’re really all dead inside; just a scared little idiot who can’t please the crowds no matter what she does!” Twilight raised an eyebrow at this comment.
“Crowds…?” murmured the perplexed unicorn. For a moment Trixie looked as though she said something she shouldn’t have, then became angry again.
“Erm…Yes, the crowds!” she tried to rant, “The crowds that come to your library!” The attempt at covering her words failed, as Twilight was already recalling something she’d read about psychotherapy patients projecting their problems on others.
“Trixie, I think you need to see a--”
“I don’t need to see anypony!” roared the unicorn, “All I need is my magazines back!” By now all four ponies within the energy dome looked upon the magician with pity. Even Dash, who undoubtedly disliked the boastful unicorn the most, felt bad for the wretched creature.
“You don’t need the magazines,” Twilight said, trying her best to speak in a warm, gentle tone similar to her mentor, “Trixie, I think what you really need are some friends.” Trixie gave the smiling unicorn a haughty glare, and once again began to slam her hooves against the force field.
“I don’t need your friendship!” she barked, “I need my magazines!”
“Just slow down for a moment,” Twilight said, “Just think about it. Why do you need them so badly?” Trixie paused in her assault, and became very quiet. There was the obvious reason for her interest in the highly graphic material, as she frequently ogled the featured stallions. But the unicorn had no idea as to why she was so obsessed with them. She had nearly strangled two colts, and had broken a door in her mad pursuit to reclaim them.
“I…uh…They have…a lot of sentimental value,” she lied.
“How so?” replied Twilight.
“My…” for a minute Trixie’s mind stalled, but quickly recuperated. “My grandmother gave them to me.” The four ponies stared at her as a nervous grin spread across her manic features.
“Your grandmother gave you pornography?” Twilight echoed, her voice expressing her blatant disbelief. Trixie nodded. Though she was aware of how ridiculous her claim sounded, she was not ashamed to stick with it. She had abandoned feeling any shame whatsoever the moment she’d burst into the library.
“Well…alright,” sighed Twilight as she turned to her friends. “Let’s pack it up. Her three friends looked at her with uncertainty.
“Twilight,” breathed Rarity, “Are you sure about this?” It was evident by her expression that she did not think that returning the magazines to their unstable owner was a good idea.
“I’m sure,” replied Twilight as she began to magick the Playmare collection back into the trunk. Once it was back inside, the purple mare undid the force field and shoved the trunk towards Trixie, who was fixated on it with a demented smile. Without so much as a thank you, the unicorn loaded the trunk onto the tiny wagon and raced out the doorway, leaving Applejack, Dash, and Rarity giving confused looks to Twilight.
“Twi,” murmured Dash, “What have you done? She obviously has a problem.”
“She’s not ready to come to terms with herself,” Twilight said sadly, as she watched the blue figure disappear down the street, “We can't help her if she's not ready.”
"Any idea when she will be ready?" asked Applejack.
"Once she's hit rock bottom," said Twilight, "But given how fast she's falling, I don't think that will take too long."
Trixie sat beneath the moon in the middle of a meadow, alone with her wagon. The unicorn stared at it with a satisfied smile. Though she appeared happy, her eyes were the eyes of somepony who was completely aware of how infinitely pathetic they were.
"I got it back," she said in half-hearted sing song as she began to do a flimsy dance around the trunk, "I got it back!" She stopped circling and gave the night sky a prideful look.
"I did it all by myself! Trixie is not a loser!" she called out triumphantly to nopony. Though she continued to smile, tears were welling up in the edges of her eyes. "Yes...Trixie got back all of her Playmare! She may be homeless, but she has her Playmare! And that's all she really needs!" She let out a victorious laugh that slowly began to change into heavy sobbing.
