Do You Like My Shorts? They're From Bermuda.
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Do You Like My Shorts? They're From Bermuda.
Do You Like My Shorts? They're From Bermuda.
Applejack furrowed her brow. “What did they sell again?”
Discord, at least, had the decency to look sheepish. Filthy just shrugged. “Flowers, mostly. And I believe they were planning to diversify into mulch and gardening tools.”
Fluttershy coughed faintly from under her respirator. Here on the hilltop overlooking the city, the smoke was nearly unbearable. At least a faint westerly breeze had started to blow. Rainbow tried to help out, fanning her wings, but quickly gave up.
Rarity poked Twilight again. “She’s still out of it, I’m afraid. Not surprising, considering all that’s happened.”
“Well, everypony got out in time,” said Discord, scratching the back of his neck with his lion paw. “I mean, it’s not like anyone was hurt. Just...”
“Homeless.” Applejack had progressed from “furrowed” to “glaring.”
Filthy harrumphed, and Rarity dimly realized she had never actually heard a pony do that before. He looked down his nose at them as he spoke. “A little adversity is to be expected in these troubled times. Not like they’re in dire straits just yet. I mean, there’s plenty of grass to eat. And bit-shortages aside, there's still the possibility of government help.”
Discord winced. In the distance, the last precarious remains of Canterlot Castle fell into the burning city.
Rarity levitated a collection of sewing needles. “How. Did. This. Happen.”
Filthy took a step back. “It was Discord’s idea!”
“My idea! What baloney. I’ll have you know....”
“I was just balancing ledgers, and the numbers moved, and he was in the books swapping things around and making suggestions...”
A sewing needle embedded itself in the ruined tree next to them. Filthy swallowed, and collected himself, restoring his haughty demeanor.
“I can’t expect common ponies such as yourselves to understand the details. This is high finance, after all.”
Applejack gritted her teeth. “Try us.”
“Very well. Consider... well, suppose you thought the price of flowers was going to go up, and wanted to use that knowledge to make money. What would you do?”
“Buy some flowers, and then later on, sell them?” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I mean, obviously.”
“Yes. But, and this is the tricky part... suppose you thought the price would go down? How would you make money then?”
That was a stumper. The assembled ponies looked at each other for a moment. Another sewing needle separated from the pack, quivering threateningly.
Filthy sighed. “Discord?”
Discord scowled. “Well obviously, you sell some flowers, and then later on, buy them.”
This took a couple of minutes to sink in. There was a faint thump as the Flim & Flam Chemical Works distantly burst into flames, burning fiercely with a brilliant green color.
Applejack wasn’t giving up. “How in Celestia’s name can you sell flowers before you buy them?”
Discord grinned wickedly. “That’s the clever part! You borrow them from somepony. For a small fee, of course. Then sell them, and when the price comes down, buy replacements to give back to the pony you borrowed from. Absolutely foolproof, and quite profitable. Unless.”
A flight of very sooty-looking pegasi flew overhead, dragging a scraggly collection of rain clouds. Rainbow jumped up to join them, but quickly fluttered back down to earth. It was really hopeless at this point. At least the river had stopped the fire for now.
She settled for poking Discord in the ribs instead. “Unless what?”
Filthy stared. “Go on. This was your brilliant scheme.”
“Unless... the price does not in fact go down,” Discord finished, shrugging. “But I mean, nine times out of ten, that’s what happens. And the rest of the time you just shrug and lose a little money. Really, it’s brilliant. Right up there with my idea for sugar-sweetened snorkeling equipment. Unless.”
Applejack put her hooves over her head, breathing deeply. “Discord, get to the point.”
“Unless... the price does in fact go up, and you happen to sell too many flowers.”
“How many flowers is too many?”
“I want you to understand, I was only trying to help. Filthy’s business was doing terribly this year, barely making 200% profit. It needed a real kick in the...”
“Discord,” said Fluttershy, taking off the respirator. “It’s late, and we still have to deal with the radiation problem. Can you just tell us how many flowers you sold? Maybe we can ask the zebras to help out. They have all kinds of lovely orchids and tulips.”
Fed up with Rainbow’s poking, Discord turned his midsection into jello, and his limbs into pastries. He scratched one of his horns with a lemon-meringue claw. “Er, all of them.”
“What do you mean, all?”
“All the flowers in Equestria,” chipped in Filthy, looking perversely proud of himself. “And Zebrica, and the griffin kingdom, and even all the snow-crocuses from Yakyakistan. Plus another forty percent or so. You can borrow flowers more than once, of course. No rule against that.”
Rarity gaped. “That’s insane! Why would you do such a thing!”
Filthy glowered back at her. “I’ll have you know, if it had worked, we’d have made a tremendous pile of bits. Which seemed very likely until word got out, and other ponies started buying up all the flowers. I mean, I don’t even know why we let common ponies buy them. All they’ll do with a flower is go plant it somewhere. Wasteful.”
“Ten years,” mumbled Twilight. Applejack and Rarity looked over with concern. “What was that, sugar cube? Glad you’re back with us.”
Twilight’s expression was unreadable, as she watched the flames. “Ten years,” she repeated.
None of the ponies, or the draconequus, know what to say to that. So they sat on the hilltop in silence for a while, watching the fire with her. Rainbow’s stomach rumbled.
“I don’t feel like eating grass,” muttered Fluttershy.
“That’s OK,” said Discord gently. “There are plenty of flowers to eat. They’re very cheap now.”
“Ten years,” said Twilight, still staring glassy-eyed into the flames, “is the minimum amount of time needed to rebuild after total economic collapse. And the law says it has to be personally directed by the Princess, to prevent conflicts of interest. Does anypony else want to be Princess?”
There was dead silence. Filthy shuffled back slightly, trying to seem inconspicuous. Discord looked thoughtful. “Not really, but hear me out on this. Maybe we could borrow a Princess...”
