In theory, ‘not a cloud in the sky’ is generally considered picture postcard weather. The kind of thing the right bribes to the right weatherponies on the right days make your town a tourist destination. But clouds also bring shade and rain. And some relief to stifling hot temperatures.
The past few days had been unseasonably warm, but this day had dawned absolutely sweltering. Mayor Mare wiped her brow as she finished the last of the morning’s paperwork. Once she completed it she and her assistant could grab some lunch.
“And lastly, a formal complaint from Sweet Apple Acres.” Raven Inkwell hoofed the mayor a letter in a barely legible scrawl. It was short and to the point.
Where’s the rain?
“That’s a good question.” The mayor turned to the calendar next to her desk. The rain showers she’d requested last week hadn’t materialized. It was barely past Winter Wrap-Up – there was no precedent at all for the heat wave Ponyville had been suffering through the past few days. “Raven, how about we mosey on down to the Weather Bureau and see what’s going on.” She grabbed a hat to keep the sun out of her eyes and Raven followed suit.
Locking Town Hall behind them, the two mares trotted to the local weather team’s office. Neither of them was particularly happy to see a bunch of pegasi lounging around doing nothing.
“Ahem.”
“Oh, hi mayor.” Rainbow Dash got up to greet them. “Anything we can for you?”
“Nothing much. Just wondering if you could you turn the heat down? And maybe a doozie of a downpour to make up for the three showers that you’ve missed so far this week.”
“No can do.”
“Why not?”
Rainbow Dash pointed to the bulletin board. “Orders from high up.”
Mayor Mare and Raven Inkwell looked at the solitary word emblazoned on the paper with the official Weather Bureau seal.
Drought.
“Drought?”
“Drought.” Rainbow nodded. “It’s official. I flew up to the home office in Cloudsdale to confirm it, personally.”
“Why?” The mayor was stunned. Droughts were rare in Equestria, considering the pegasi controlled the weather. Usually a drought was intended as a punishment. A severe punishment doled out so infrequently nopony was entirely certain such a thing had ever actually happened.
Rainbow Dash ran a hoof through her mane. “Yeah, about that. Ponyville hasn’t paid the water bill in two years. You got a six-month credit for the water taken from the reservoir when we got selected for tornado duty. That’s actually why we were chosen for that. They thought maybe we were having fiscal problems and wanted to help us out a bit.”
“The water bill?”
“The water bill. You know, the monthly statement we send you to cover our costs of manufacturing and delivering rain.” She motioned a hoof to her weather team. “We like getting paychecks for the work we do. No payment, no rain.”
“Well, if you can’t do rain, what about some clouds?” Raven asked. “A little shade would be nice right about now.”
“Clouds are water vapor.” Flitter hoofed her a pamphlet meant for foals, detailing how clouds were made and what purposes they served. “As for the sun, we don’t control that. You’ll have to talk to Princess Celestia if you want her to turn the heat down.”
“Water bill?” Mayor Mare turned these words over in her head again. “What water bill? I’ve been mayor for almost two decades and I’ve never once heard of a town having to pay a water bill just to get some rain.”
The various pegasus ponies in the room all looked to one another and then back to the mayor. “Well, somepony was paying it until two years ago.” Rainbow Dash frowned as she looked at the numbers scrawled in the ledger. “Flitter, you’re better with the whole math thing. Can you explain?”
The orchid mare rolled her eyes and took the offered ledger. The mayor recognized this pony as one the volunteers helping during her last campaign. “These invoices are from three years ago. You can see clearly that Ponyville was making regular payments. Some months are a little higher than others, December, for example, due to the constant snowfall to set the mood for Hearth’s Warming. And of course all those April showers lead to a hefty bill too. But that gets offset by the relatively dry months of October and November. Crops are in, and it’s too early for snow. And not a single missed payment until right here. And no payments at all since.”
“And no payment means no rain.” Rainbow Dash stomped a hoof. “My boss was adamant about that.”
“But no rain means all our crops will wither. Including the apples your friends at Sweet Apple Acres rely on for their income. And the town’s sole source of cider.” The mayor pressed her point. Logically, the weather team would see how the town needed rain and they couldn’t withhold it from them.
Rainbow Dash frowned. “I know, mayor, but my wings are tied. If you make a payment, we can get some rain this afternoon. I’ll zip on over to Cloudsdale and pick up a few storm clouds until we can get a full soaking thunderstorm scheduled for next week.”
Mayor Mare sighed. “All right, how much do we owe?”
Rainbow Dash shuffled her hooves nervously. “Flitter?”
“Oh hay no. You can ‘math’ enough to read this figure to her.” She pointed to a number in the ledger.
Rainbow Dash gulped and took the ledger from Flitter. “So, uh, two years of weather, minus a six-month credit for providing reservoir water, plus late fees and interest… you’re looking at 213,079 bits total.”
“How much?” Raven almost fainted, while the mayor dropped back on her haunches.
“213,079 bits. The entire back due balance up front.” Thunderlane moved to stand behind Rainbow and Flitter. The stallion was more imposing than the two petite mares, and served to punctuate the point that a payment needed to be made.
“We don’t have 213,079 bits.”
Raven shook her head, agreeing with the mayor. “It’s the beginning of April. We’ve already budgeted everything for the year.”
“You could raise taxes.” The rest of the gathered pegasi booed Cloudchaser’s suggestion.
“Even if I could do that on a whim, the tax hike wouldn’t go into effect until January. We can’t go nine months with no rain. The soil would be dust.”
“This is extortion,” Raven whispered to the mayor. “We should take this to Princess Celestia.”
“You should do that,” agreed Cloudchaser. “And while you’re at it, see if she’ll dial the heat back a notch.” She fanned herself with a wing.
“Fine. If that’s the way it’s going to be, then I have no choice but to write to the princess to end this nonsense once and for all.” She and Raven turned and trotted out the door. Their trot slowed to a lope as they walked back into the heat. “We’ll ask Twilight to send a letter on our behalf.”
They never made it to Twilight’s. As they approached Carousel Boutique, the door opened and Spike stepped out, completely unaffected by the heat. “Hi Mayor, Raven.”
“Spike! Just the dragon we were looking for.”
Spike’s eyes darted around nervously. “I don’t know what you may have heard, but I had absolutely nothing to do with the Cutie Mark Crusaders using all of the town’s water supply to host a massive pool party to beat the heat! Nor do I know how the fire at Sweet Apple Acres started. That could’ve been um… er… uh… any dragon.”
Raven and the Mayor exchanged a look. This had all the makings of a crisis. Most ponies would say ‘to err is equine, but to really mess up you need a government bureaucracy.’ Those ponies had never met the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
“We were just hoping you could send a letter to Princess Celestia asking her to maybe ease this awful heatwave a bit.”
“Oh! I can do that!” Spike pulled out a quill and piece of parchment… from somewhere.
The mayor blinked. Spike had just pulled a Pinkie Pie. The possibility that Pinkie Pie’s antics might be contagious was only slightly less troubling than the current water crisis, but more worrisome than the fire of unknown intensity, but likely draconic origin, at Sweet Apple Acres. She’d been in politics a long time. This was merely a misunderstanding. A letter to the princess might not straighten everything out, but it would certainly get the ball rolling. Perhaps they could arrange a royal loan to be paid back from next year’s budget. All in all, a few days of excessive heat wouldn’t be a major disaster. This still didn’t even crack her top ten worst days in office… But it was knocking on the door of tenth place. Waiting for the fourth horseshoe to drop would only ensure that it would bump out ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders Police Officers, YAY!’ from that final spot. Mayor Mare had no intention whatsoever of letting that happen. She prided herself on being proactive. She’d been mayor of Ponyville long enough to know when to head off a disaster before it could start. “Spike, take a letter.”
Dear Princess Celestia,
Ponyville is currently suffering through both a heatwave and a water shortage. Due to an oversight on our part, it appears the Cloudsdale Water Bureau hasn’t received payment for services rendered for approximately two years. We’re in arrears more than our budget will allow us to pay, and no water is forthcoming without a full payment.
I seek your wisdom and insight in resolving this matter before it reaches crisis status. And while my constituents (not to mention myself) dearly love your sun; without water to keep ourselves and our crops hydrated, we humbly request an end to the heatwave while we work with the CWB to get the clouds raining again.
Your faithful representative of the 116th District,
Mayor Mare
“Thank you Spike. With your help, we should get this little issue resolved before the end of the business day. Raven and I are going to grab a bite to eat, but if you receive a reply from the princess, please seek us out immediately. We’ll be…” She trailed off as Spike started hacking up a scroll. “That was fast.”
Spike unfurled it and started reading.
Dear Mayor Mare,
It is with regret that I inform you that not only is Ponyville woefully behind on their water bill, but they’re also in arrears on their heating bill. So now that winter has wrapped up, the heat’s been turned up, and will remain turned up until a full payment for the back due amount of 84,185 bits is paid. I’ll continue working in conjunction with the Weather Bureau until such time as all debts are paid.
Sincerely,
Princess Celestia
It was official – this day had cracked the top ten and firmly slotted itself into eight place, behind ‘every single structure in Ponyville suffering damage from a sonic rainboom’ but ahead of ‘Pinkie Pie discovers the Macarena’.
“The Disaster Relief Fund.”
“Huh?” Raven’s words shook the mayor from her internal crisis rankings. All ten of which, she took note, had happened in the past few years since Twilight Sparkle moved to town.
“We could move some funds from the Disaster Relief Fund to cover this. We’ll come up short the next time there’s a monster attack or unexpected ‘they’ve already got their cutie marks, why are they still crusading for them?’ escapade, but the money’s there.”
“We could, but that’s just kicking the can down the road. You know as well as I do that long before summer starts there’ll be a random bugbear or ursa encounter, or some ill-fated revenge scheme from the latest villain to be foiled by Twilight and her friends. And then what?”
“We’ll cope somehow. We’ll ask for volunteers. We’ll request emergency funds from the royal treasury. We’ll explain there have been too many disasters. The ponies in this town can certainly understand that. At this point I have no idea why anypony chooses to live at ground zero.”
“Hey, you’re still here too.” The mayor sighed. “But you’re right. We can’t live without water. A drought can be considered a disaster, albeit a completely preventable one. But if we don’t have water, we don’t have a town.”
“Exactly.” Raven nodded. “Let’s get through this crisis before we start planning for the next one. Nopony’s hurt, and that’s the important part.”
“Yet.” Sudden realization dawned on the mayor. “The young and the elderly are both vulnerable in extreme heat. We’re going to have to find temporary accommodations for the town’s foals and senior citizens in another town.”
“Lovely. Screaming foals who don’t want to leave their parents and elderly ponies who don’t want to leave their homes. Fun times.”
“Some of the parents might choose to go with their foals. We can delegate that task to Cheerilee. She knows the town’s foals better than anypony. We’ll take care of the seniors.”
“Cantankerous beats crying. Barely.” Raven sighed and resigned herself to her fate. She’d turn it into a game by keeping a mental tally of how many times she was called ‘whippersnapper’ as opposed to ‘punk’.
The mayor looked around. The town’s market was almost deserted. Applejack and Golden Harvest were the only two vendors hardy enough to open. And customers for the two were almost nonexistent. Commerce in town had effectively slid to near zero. No commerce meant no tax revenue.
This day had just moved up to fifth, easily blowing past ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders Medical Examiners, YAY!’ and was quite close to passing ‘Trixie returns to Ponyville with the Alicorn Amulet’ for fourth. The townsponies were so used to disasters they didn’t stop shopping just because Trixie was taking her revenge on the citizens of town one at a time.
They stopped by the bank and withdrew the needed funds from the relief fund, draining it to a precariously low balance that likely wouldn’t be enough to cover the next disaster. But there was no other choice. They trudged the rest of the way to the weather office, hampered by the heat and the wheelbarrow full of bits they were pushing, not to mention their reluctance to part with said bits.
Sunshower cracked an eye open as the door to the weather team’s office creaked open. Most of the pegasi were exactly where there they’d been laying just a few hours earlier. The heat and quantity of ponies in a relatively small space made for an olfactory assault. The mayor and Raven wrinkled their noses as they entered.
“Your payment.”
“Oh, good, you paid in cash. We won’t have to wait for a check to clear. As soon as Flitter finishes counting out the bits I’ll grab some rainclouds and we can put this whole drought thing behind us.” Rainbow Dash smiled and offered the two mares seats as Flitter made her way towards the wheelbarrow.
“How about my bits?”
Flitter paused, and all of the ponies in the room turned to look at the pony standing in the doorway. They quickly dropped into bows at the sight of Princess Celestia.
“We, uh, we don’t have them. Well, not with us. We were just going to mail you a check.” Princess Celestia was in Ponyville and she wasn’t happy. Sure, Celestia had come to Ponyville before. Sometimes she was even angry while she was in town. But until now that wrath had always been directed away from the town as a whole, and specifically at ponies other than herself. But now the princess was glaring directly at her.
In one fell swoop the day had now passed ‘Discord reforms’ and ‘Discord escapes’ for third and second, respectively, as it continued its climb up the charts. Still, almost nothing could pass the unspeakable horror of ‘enchanted crystal tree castle sprouts up in the middle of town and I can’t do anything about it because the inhabitant of said castle, despite residing in my jurisdiction, outranks me’ for first. The only scenario she’d managed to think of that could possibly top that was if Pinkie Pie and/or Minty ascended to alicorn princess. And even that might not be as bad. But it was also highly unlikely. She hoped.
Celestia switched to the Royal Canterlot Voice and the mayor cringed as her ears flattened. This was it. Her political career was over. She’d be lucky to escape total banishment. “If you don’t make a payment immediately, I’ll be forced to shout April Foal’s!”
“April Foal’s! We so totally got you!” Rainbow Dash hoofbumped the princess.
“April Foal’s? This is an April Foal’s Day prank?!?” Suddenly relief washed over the mayor. The day immediately fell out of the top ten worst days she’d had in office, thought it went straight to number one on a new list she was compiling: most annoying days she’d had since taking office.
Celestia’s horn glowed and the temperature started dropping to something more appropriate for spring. The rest of the weather team sprang into action to gather rain for the town. And Raven pushed the wheelbarrow out of the weather team’s office and back towards the bank.
“Of course it is.” Celestia smiled that patient, understanding smile she used when explaining something to foals. “The Crown, of course, covers the expenses of all weather in Equestria. Paid for by your tax bits.” She booped the mayor’s nose. “Gotcha!”
“Yes. Yes, you certainly did. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go have a nervous breakdown. As for you…” She pointed a hoof at Rainbow Dash. “I’m naming my first ulcer after you.” She closed the door behind her more forcefully than necessary to express her displeasure, without outright slamming it so as not to have a temper tantrum in front of the princess.
“Best April Foal’s Day prank ever.”
