The half-dozen gathered reporters sitting in wooden chairs murmured to each other nonchalantly. They were situated along with various cameramen, sound recorders, and random spectators at the very center of a wide public park. All chairs, cameras, and microphones faced in the same direction—a small wooden stage complete with a single podium and mic.
And on that stage stood the human known as Steve Stevenson.
He tapped the microphone. “Hello. Good afternoon everyone and thanks for coming. I trust everyone can hear me alright?” When no one objected, he continued. “What I’m about to announce here today—”
“I thought you said there’d be coffee and donuts!” a random spectator shouted. “I don’t see anything!”
Steve Stevenson answered calmly, “The email I’d sent out said there may be snacks and beverages… and since none of you bothered to bring any…” He shrugged it off. “Anywho, let’s cut to the chase since I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here. My name is Steve Stevenson and I am officially running for President of the United States.”
The silence that followed was immense. Only some dog across the park barked a single time.
“Wait. I’m confused,” said the Easily Confused Reporter. “Your name is…?”
“Steve Stevenson.”
“And you’re running for President?”
“Yes, indeed.”
The Easily Confused Reporter scratched at his chin. “Okay. Still a bit confused here. What’s your political background, exactly?”
Steve Stevenson flashed his pearly white teeth and held his hand out like he’d seen several politicians do on TV. “Okay. Yes, it may be true that I have absolutely zero political experience. Yes, it may even be true that my last job was at a Burger King I was terminated from for tardiness. But to that, I say ‘a little extra sleep goes a long way’. Has no one here ever heard of a powernap before?”
The Easily Annoyed Reporter in the audience shook his head from side to side. “This is ridiculous! What a complete waste of time.”
While the Easily Swayed Reporter halted him, “Hold on. We’re all already here anyways. Okay, Mr. Stevenson. Here’s a softball question for you. What’s your platform like?”
Steve Stevenson glanced at his wooden stage. “It’s not bad. Made of wood and nails. Someone else made it, obviously. I’m not very good at stuff like—”
“They meant your political platform!” Easily Annoyed Reporter snapped.
“Oh. That. I think I’ll keep it simple. More taxes. Less jobs.” Steve Stevenson then paused himself. “Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you.”
Easily Confused Reporter asked, “Did you just quote the ‘Willy Wonka’ movie?”
“That’ll more than likely be most of my political speeches. Random movie quotes.”
“That sounds terribly annoying and distracting.”
Steve Stevenson narrowed his eyes at that particular reporter. “You underestimate my power, sir. Or perhaps you underestimate the power of my presidential running mate!”
Harsh guesses from the crowd on who it might be included “sock puppet”, “invisible friend”, and “flying spaghetti monster”. Steve Stevenson was unperturbed, though. Everything rested on what came next.
“Rainbow Dash!” he called out. “Could you join us down here for a moment?”
Most reporters and camera operators scanned the wide park, but found no one in sight. Only a few spectators and the Easily Confused Reporter caught a glimpse of who was soaring on down towards the platform. That particular reporter was now more confused than ever.
Striking a hero’s pose, the small blue pegasus with rainbow-colored mane and tail faced the crowd with a smirk. She flung her wings out wide before folding them to her sides. The entire audience sat open-mouthed and silent. No even the dog across the park barked this time.
“Is that…?” the Easily Swayed Reporter began.
Steve Stevenson nodded. “A living, breathing pegasus from the land of Equestria. She even talks, too. Don’t you, Dash?”
Rainbow Dash happily waved a hoof. “What’s up, everyone!”
The Easily Swayed Reporter shook uncontrollably. “Well, now I have to hear what this is all about!”
The Easily Annoyed Reporter stood up to speak, “I think I’ve heard enough. Now say that colorful pony standing there is, in fact, real and not some robot or magic act or whatever… ponies cannot run for vice-president!”
Steve Stevenson remained confident. “I did the math, good sir. In horse years, she’s perfectly old enough and eligible. And even more qualified than me!”
“How so?”
“Please, one and all, direct your attention to the screen to my left.” To the left of Steve Stevenson sat a flatscreen TV, large enough to be seen even from the backrow. He pressed a button on his remote to start the presentation. “Here is Equestria.” Click! “And here are the proud Wonderbolts!” Click! “Just look how graceful they are!” Click! “Flying so fast and beautiful!”
Easily Confused Reporter asked, “And this has to do with politics how?”
Steve Stevenson could only chew on his tongue. “Because it’s kinda military looking?”
“I’ve heard plenty,” the Easily Annoyed Reporter said. “I’m done here.”
“But I still don’t even know why we’re here,” said the Easily Confused Reporter.
“Not gonna lie,” the Easily Swayed Reporter reported with a nod, “you kinda had me there for a second, Mr. Stevenson.”
As most spectators rose to walk away, Steve Stevenson turned to Rainbow Dash in clear desperation. “It’s time for operation Razzle-Dazzle.”
Rainbow Dash only stared back blankly.
“Operation Shatterhoof.”
Nothing. Nadda from Rainbow Dash.
“Do a Sonic Rainboom, Dash. Quick!”
“Oh. That. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Steve Stevenson had time to shield his eyes with sunglasses; the rest of the crowd and neighboring park goers did not. After all the dust had settled and the chairs were put back in place, more than a few tears had been shed from the Rainboom’s pure beauty—most tears coming from the Easily Swayed Reporter, who appeared to be swayed in Stevenson’s direction once again.
Steve Stevenson tapped on his microphone. “Do I have your attention now? Just imagine something like that at the start of each of my political rallies. Two heart attacks per speech, guaranteed!”
“So, you’d actually be willing to answer tough, political questions at these hypothetical rallies of yours?” Easily Confused Reporter asked. “You? The one with absolutely no political experience whatsoever?”
Steve Stevenson shook his head. “Not a chance. Most questions would go directly to Rainbow Dash here. Go ahead. Try me.”
“Fine. I’ll take the bait,” Easily Annoyed Reporter began. He then raised a hand. “How do you plan to handle the fight against global warming?”
“Rainbow Dash will answer that question for me,” Steve Stevenson said, before unveiling a much smaller podium he then placed in front of his much smaller running mate.
More than a few Awwws! escaped from the crowd. Exactly as planned.
Rainbow Dash shook out her cue cards and blew on her mic. “Let’s see here. Global warming… global warming… alright! Here it is. ‘Global warming needs to be at least twenty-percent cooler.’ Thank you very much for coming.”
Easily Confused Reporter pointed a finger at them both. “Wait a second! That sounded rehearsed!”
Steve Stevenson rolled his eyes. “This is all rehearsed!” He took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Look. I don’t think you’re all grasping the big picture here. I might be running for President, but the real story here is Rainbow Dash. I, Steve Stevenson, if elected to presidency, promise to stay inside the White House as much as possible and say as little as possible. Having seen the place from just the outside, I’m going to assume it’s a lot nicer than my current one-bedroom apartment is.”
“Then who will meet with foreign dignitaries? Visit factories? Hold press briefings?”
“Vice-president Rainbow Dash will. She’ll even fly there herself, saving the taxpayers oodles in private jet costs.”
Before another question could be lobbed his way, Steve Stevenson clicked his remote again and started yet another slideshow. This time only showing clearly photoshopped pictures of Rainbow Dash in various pony-sized garments and dresses and standing in numerous exotic locations from around the world.
Click! “Here she is in Texas with matching cowboy boots and hat.”
“That’s so adorable!” Easily Swayed Reporter exclaimed. “We must make that a reality! We must!”
Click! “And here’s Dash trading colorful socks with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.”
Click! “And here’s Rainbow Dash enjoying Octoberfest to the fullest.” He chuckled to himself softly. “Don’t drink too much, Miss Dash! You have work in the morning!”
Click! “And here she is exploring the great outdoors with none other than Vladimir Putin on horseback. Both shirtless, as you can clearly see.”
Easily Confused Reporter scoffed at that. “I highly doubt any of that actually happened.”
“And let’s not forget just how cute ponies look in hats!”
Click! “So!” Click! “Many!” Click! “Adorable hats!” Click!
The slideshow ended with a “Rarity Incorporated” logo.
“Need I go on?” Steve Stevenson asked the crowd with a grin.
“Nope!” Easily Swayed Reporter yelled. “Where do I sign? You have my vote!”
“I still think this is beyond ridiculous,” Easily Annoyed Reporter stated. “Convince me otherwise.”
“Will do!” Steve Stevenson happily announced. “With yet another slideshow!”
This time on the screen was the image of a bald eagle in front of an American flag.
“Now take the bald eagle for instance; America’s nation symbol. I plan to change all that. Just look how intimating this picture makes it look. Mean. Predatory. Bald.”
The Easily Annoyed Reporter harrumphed. He was also very bald.
“How can we change this harsh image?” Steve Stevenson asked the crowd. “I know! By changing it!” He then changed the image to a picture of a yellow-and-pink pegasus with a butterfly symbol on her flank. She also appeared to be stuck in mid-sneeze. “Here we have the pegasus pony. Cute. Huggable. Lots of hair! And loyal. Did I happen to mention Rainbow Dash here is the official element of loyalty?”
“What does that even mean!?” Easily Confused Reporter shouted.
Ignoring him, Steve Stevenson continued gamely, “Now look at the eagle’s claws. Terrifying, correct? Now look at a pony’s hooves. Perfect for fist-bumps. Perfect for picking up tea cups and the like.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Easily Swayed Reporter said.
“Trust me.”
“Alright, I guess I will.”
“And did I mention how my running mate Rainbow Dash will singlehandedly fix the economy?”
“Clearly you did not as you wouldn’t have asked that question if you had!” Easily Annoyed Reporter barked.
“Merchandizing!” Steve Stevenson exclaimed in return. “Ponies by themselves sell well enough. T-shirt. Lunchboxes. You name it. But a pony in politics? I can see the animated series already! Stores will run out of merchandize in seconds! Christmas will never be the same! Never! And did I mention how ten-percent of all Rainbow Dash-related sales goes to the Starving Stevens Foundation? Yes, indeed. An organization that locates Stevens from all over the world and gives them Hungry Man dinners whether they want them or not. A noble endeavor, without a doubt.”
A hand was raised; Easily Confused Reporter’s hand. “You honestly… seriously… believe that just by having a pony as a running mate, that will get you enough votes to become the next President?”
“Yes,” Steve Stevenson answer honestly. “But let me put it a different way. What decent parent in the United States will willingly deny their child the ability to watch a real-life pony talk on TV for years to come. It would be like denying them a colorful, magical dream come true. And, realistically here, how badly could we screw this up? Come on. I already told you: I’d leave all the big decisions to the professionals. Oh! And how could I forget my campaign slogan!”
“Let me guess,” Easily Annoyed Reporter asked. “Make America awesome again?”
“Nope. Much simpler than that.” Steve Stevenson flicked the TV on again, revealing a headshot of himself. The text over-top his face read: “STEVE STEVENSON. THAT GUY WITH THE TALKING PONY.”
“And did I mention,” Steve Stevenson began once again, “that at the beginning of each year in office, I will reveal a photo of one Miss Rainbow Dash as a foal? Here’s a sample picture.”
Another click of the remote. Another gasp from the audience. Far louder than any previously.
“Take my money!” Easily Swayed Reporter cried. “Take it all! Please!”
Easily Annoyed Reporter wiped away a single tear. “And just like that… I don’t feel annoyed anymore. Maybe I will join my brother at his ice cream shop!”
Easily Confused Reporter busied himself on his cellphone. “I’m confused. Does your campaign have anything to do with this other pony who’s running now?”
Steve Stevenson was just about to unleash his celebratory balloons when he heard that horrifying sentence. “Umm. What was that again?”
The reporter continued reading from his phone, “Some purple alicorn called Twilight Sparkle is now running. Says she has actual political experience and even helped save her universe more than a dozen times. She also has a bunch of school degrees. Bunch of bravery medals. It also says she likes blueberry muffins and reading before bed. Care to comment?”
Steve Stevenson tried laughing it off. It didn’t work. “Well, like, that’s all well and good, but a candidate is only as good as their running mate. Who could the good people of the United States possibly want to see on their TVs as much as Rainbow Dash here? In various costumes and meeting dignitaries from all around the world and the like?”
“Twilight Sparkle’s running mate is Scarlett Johansson.”
“Oh.” Steve Stevenson nodded to himself in overwhelming defeat. “That clearly changes things. Having learnt that information, I hereby stepdown as President—”
“That’s not how this works.”
“—I hereby leave this public park and will very shortly be begging for my Burger King gig again.” He turned to his running mate, still seated behind her makeshift podium. “Care for a milkshake and fries, RD?”
“Absolutely!”
So, with hoof in hand, Steve Stevenson left both the park and his negligent political dreams behind. But not before shouting at the press one final time.
“Jokes on you! I’m still friends with a talking pony and you’re not!”
Indeed, he was. Indeed.
Author's Note
ALTERNATE SCENE:
Steve Stevenson tried laughing it off. It didn’t work. “Well, like, that’s all well and good, but a candidate is only as good as their running mate. Who could the good people of the United States possibly want to see on their TVs as much as Rainbow Dash here?”
“Twilight Sparkle’s running mate is Samuel L. Jackson.”
Steve Stevenson sighed. "Motherf--"
