I had never seen Ponyville Town Hall so packed. Even the airspace in the high-roofed hall was filled with eager pegasi hungry for justice. As I entered the courtroom, I was met with sneers and mocking whistles.
A harsh old colt near the entrance waved a wrapped-up newspaper at me and grumbled, "Now wait just one dang-gum minute there, young'un, you'll be taking wooden nickels if you support 'er in this here case.”
I snatched his paper with my green magic and examined the front page. It read:
LAST PIE IN PONYVILLE SELFISHLY DEVOURED: MINT ON TRIAL
PONYVILLE--A local earth pony, Alpine Mint, stands accused of eating the last pie in Ponyville.
The night guard at the local bakery spotted Mint exiting the premises with remnants of crust on her snout. Upon searching for the pie, he found that it had disappeared. Only a few crumbs remained--some on Mint's snout, others in the empty pie pan.
At this time of year, the remaining apples are saved for emergency rations throughout the coming winter. Only the most lustrous and delicious of this season's apples are selected to be made into pies. They are reserved for special occasions and are often given as a symbolic gift to the ruler of Equestria. Thus, the pies are under the legal ownership of the Town of Ponyville and the baker who made the pie, which makes Mint's greediness a crime against all of Ponyville.
She was taken into custody without hassle. As is to be expected, she has made up fantastic stories in her defense.
She is to be officially charged at a hearing in Ponyville Town Hall this Thursday. Presiding over the court will be Judge Lawn Order, who expects the trial will be a quick one.
Recent Hayvard graduate Notarize has been assigned as the obligatory, but hardly necessary, defense appony in this case.
Staff Writer Namby-Pamby
The accompanying picture was of Alpine Mint outside the bakery, sporting tiny pupils and bits of pie crust on her muzzle. I sorted the paper to its appropriate place, that being the rubbish bin.
To the old colt I said, “You shouldn't believe everything you read.” I adjusted my bright red bow tie and collar, then made my way towards Judge Lawn Order's pedestal.
The Judge gazed down at me. His pastel blue mane and gray coat complimented his bleached eyes that were the same tone as the mid-day Ponyville sky.
“Ah, Notarize. It's good to see you back again...” he gave his microphone a dainty tap. He continued in hushed tones, “though I'm very disappointed this has to be your first case.”
“Thanks for your sympathy, sir.”
He nodded and I made my way to the defendant’s table. I glanced over at the plaintiff’s side. A lawyer mare with a brown mane and creamy tan coat like a lightly mixed cup of espresso glanced over at me, grinning. Beside her stood the accuser—and I knew who he was.
Everypony knew who he was. He was the most magnificent baker in all of Ponyville and his masterpiece had been ruined. With a muzzle held high and an expertly groomed purple mane, he opened his eyes only slightly to peer across at me.
My mentor and law school professor, Mare Librum, sat beside me at the defendant's table. She let out a scoff and said, “Purée Bread ain't be'in fair bringing Mint to court. We all know he's a very wealthy pony and that Mint barely gets by selling flowers.”
Alpine Mint sat beside me, her gentle sobs nearly blocking out my reply to Professor Librum. “I don't think it's about fair, Professor, I think it's about law.”
“No pony broke the law.” She told me abruptly, her curly yellow mane bouncing as she turned her head.
I glanced over at the light-green pony crying her pretty little emerald eyes out.
“It looks like Mint did.” I told Librum.
Judge Order suddenly spoke, “Court is now in session! Please, take your seats and prepare to hear the prosecution give their side of the case.”
A smooth mare's voice swept the courtroom. It was Purée Bread's appony, Coffee Cake. “ I would like to open with a simple request to the eternally fair jury of Ponyville--” she stood up briskly and directed her hoof at Mint “--that you find this pony, Alpine Mint, guilty of the truth!”
Her lips formed into a sneer and announced to the jury, judge, and audience, “You all know the crime. Now let's hear it from someone who was there. The persecution calls its first witness, Mr. Sentry, the night guard who was on duty at the time of the pie theft and says that it was that pony” she pointed at Alpine Mint again, “who ate that delectable pie.”
“Objection!” I called out, “Haysay.”
“Sustained.” Judge Order said, “Safe Sentry is called to provide a witness's account.”
Safe Sentry, a bulky orange pony with bright green hair, made his way to the stand.
Coffee Cake paced, penetrating the tense air with the sound of her hooves. She had him explain that he had seen Mint leaving the bakery with pie on her mouth.
Coffee suddenly burst with energy, “And there you have it, my little ponies! The word of a town-appointed guard against the pie-stained lips of a mediocre salespony!”
Mint sobbed, the crowd whinnied and I rolled my eyes again. “Objection!” I announced, “Irrelevant. Privilege.”
“Sustained.” said Judge Order, “Keep your words under control, Miss Coffee. This is a court of law, not a stage.”
She abruptly stood on her hoof tips and said, “Yes sir. I'd like to call the second witness. Miss Alpine Mint.”
Boos and a slam of the gavel. I put my hoof on Mints shoulder and whispered to her, “Don't worry, just tell the truth and everything will be fine.”
In the back of my mind I hoped she'd confess right there.
She sniffled, brushed her huge aquamarine mane aside and made her way to the stand.
“Miss Mint,” Cake began, “were you at the bakery the night that Mr. Sentry says he saw you?”
“Yes...yes mam.”
“Did you eat the pie in question, Miss Mint?”
“No! It fell from the sky!”
A storm of laughter broke out. Even Purée Bread chuckled.
“Quiet!” yelled Judge Order, slamming his gavel and stomping his hooves. “Please, Miss Mint. Feel free to speak openly.”
She sighed and began, “I was walking home late at night after delivering my last flower order of the day. When I made my way past the bakery, I heard a swoosh noise and was hit with a pie that fell from the sky! I looked around for the pegasus who did it, but it was too dark to see. I cleaned myself up because I didn't want any in my mouth. I went into the bakery to see if someone else had seen the pegasus that stole it, but I couldn't find anyone. As I left, I saw that guard and he took a picture of me by surprise. Then I went home.”
Coffee Cake grinned, “That's the truth, then?”
“Yes, mam.”
“So you think an unnamed pegasus threw the pie at you?”
“Yes mam.”
“Where is this pegasus?”
Mint lowered her eyes and sighed, “I don't know.”
Coffee Cake stared directly at the jury. “I rest my case, good ponies of Ponyville.”
Grumbles rippled throughout the audience and the jury. Judge Order announced, “Court is adjourned. After a short break, we will hear the defense.”
I munched on a dandelion sandwich, leaning on the town hall platform. Mare Liberum sat beside me, her autumn orange coat glinting in the sunlight, highlighting her scroll cutie mark. “Mint has committed no crime.” She said.
I gulped down some dry crust. “I'm not sure. She’s obviously guilty.”
Librum raised her eyebrow. “Yes, but you've got to be smarter than that. You're a clever student and I know you can figure this out.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, “Why don't you just tell me what happened?”
“Because I don't tell you things, I teach you things.”
I sighed. Llibrum had a tendency to see the best in everypony. We were about to continue the conversation when Coffee Cake and Purée Bread walked past us.
Purée sneered, “Hmm, Mr. Notarize, I certainly hope you have a back-up job. Neah-ha ha ha. A back up tailor wouldn’t be bad either. I think the Neighties want their tie back. Neah-ha ha ha.”
I frowned, glancing at the tie. “Bow ties are cool...” I said quietly.
He laughed and went back inside.
“Don't let ‘im bother you none.” Librum said, “He’s just prissy. Keep thinking about the case.”
I sighed, and re-entered the courtroom.
“The defense will now make their case.” Judge Order said.
I stood and addressed the jury. I quickly ran the case back through my mind, hoping to find anything to form an argument.
“Good mares and colts of Ponyville,” I began, “Allow me to call Miss Mint to the stand once again.”
Mint made her way to the stand, where she watched me patiently. Gently, I asked, “Miss Mint, please describe what it felt like when you were hit with the pie.”
“It was slimy, the crust was...well, crusty, and it didn’t smell very good.”
There it was. It made sense now. I looked over at Librum--she had been right! I asked, “What did it smell like?”
I noticed Purée Bread whisper to Coffee Cake. Mint said, “It smelled like rotten apples.”
A small gasp ran through the jury and the audience. I loosen my tie a little. “Good ponies of Ponyville, there you have it. I will explain to you why the culprit is not Mint, but Mr. Bread, that pony right there.” I pointed at him.
“But first, let me explain a simple concept. The truth may be different depending on anypony's point of view. Let's take this pie problem, for instance. Mr. Sentry saw Mint leave the premises with pie on her mouth. His truth is that she ate the pie. Miss Mint though she got hit by a pegasus. That is her truth. But Mr. Purée Bread has another truth.
We all know the ritual surrounding the presenting of the final pie of the season to the ruler of Equestria. We know it can make or break a baker's career. Of course...when Mr. Purée Bread makes a rotten pie, he seeks to protect his identity by getting rid of the evidence. That is the reality of this case. Isn't that true, Mr. Purée Bread?”
The Jury's mouths hung open, as did Cake's and Order's. Purée Bread cleared his throat and looked away from everypony, mumbling. I looked directly at him.
“And that, good ponies of Ponyville, is a lesson in truth. Mr. Bread here is ashamed to admit it, but he made a rotten decision.”
I watched his eyebrows shift into a cruel bend, his purple eyes glaring into mine.
“Hmm, fine. It was me. I tossed the cake out the window because I didn't want the ruler of Equestria to have to taste those rotten apples. My career would have been ruined.”
Judge Order banged his gavel. “That’s it!” he announced, “I believe Miss Mint shall be acquitted. What do you say, jury?”
The jury whispered amongst each other. Then their leader announced, “Miss Mint shall be acquitted!”
I smiled--my first case out of Law School was an impossible one, but through learning and quick thinking, I managed to bring out the truth, no matter how ridiculous it may be.
