Discord pulled the curtain closed, put on his glasses, and activated the projector with the tip of his pointer. A slideshow played, clicking through grainy images as he spoke.
“That’s him,” said Discord. “I could hear the invisible horns and flutes out in the chaos between worlds. He's coming, ladies and gentlemen.”
A crowd sat before him in rows of folding chairs. Celestia, perched on her seat in the front row, raised her hoof. “I thought you said he’d be a problem?”
“I said he’d be a catastrophe, Celestia. A catastrophe.”
“He doesn’t look like a catastrophe. He doesn’t even look like a duck.”
“He’s not a duck,” Discord said very patiently. “He isn’t anything, really. This is just the form the madness takes. Look into his eyes, all—” He made inarticulate grasping motions at the air. “All narrow and merry. Blank like an empty sky.”
“All right, what are his powers?”
“Well…” Discord massaged his goatee. “You could say he’s wacky. Specifically, he can do anything wacky. Anything at all.”
“So, like you? Not to be rude, but you WERE defeated. A couple of times, actually.”
Discord scowled down at her, then sighed. “Well, between you and me, here and now, I have certain…”
“Yes?”
“Certain weaknesses. Even back then. I was wacky, but I was an artist. Everything I did had a spark of genius, if you didn’t notice.” He frowned. “I don’t think you noticed. Well, no accounting for et cetera, bygones be bygones and all that. Hmph.” He turned up his nose. “Nice dress, by the way. I’m sure it was very affordable.”
“Hey, I like this dress!”
Princess Twilight Sparkle patted Celestia on the back. “It’s a very nice dress.” She faced Discord. “Are you sure he has no weaknesses?”
“Maybe a few. Nazi goats, for instance, or particularly stubborn security officers. And other, more powerful things.” He shuddered. “That’s a conversation we don’t have to have. Oh, and you could also call him delusional, but his dreams are our reality, so I wouldn’t call that a weakness.”
“Huh,” said Pinkie Pie, perched on Discord’s head. “He sounds kinda fun. Are you sure we can’t let him into our reality for a little teensy bit?”
Discord raised his eyebrows to look up at Pinkie Pie, lifting her slightly. “Absolutely not, but nice beagle puss.”
Pinkie smiled proudly. “It’s not a beagle puss, it’s an authentic pair of glasses and mustache and big weird nose. Also is that what those things are called?”
“Anyway, we can’t let him in because there’s no getting rid of him. We wouldn’t be the first creatures to try. You can’t shoot him, a pie on a windowsill doesn’t fool him, and he WILL hit a man with glasses eventually.”
“Aw,” said Pinkie Pie.
Rainbow Dash, who’d been openly sleeping in the front row until two minutes ago, tilted back the bill of her hat. “Hey, so what’s a Nazi, anyway?”
“They—”
Pinkie sneezed.
“We’re getting off topic,” said Discord. “The point is, this is a catastrophic problem, I don’t have a solution, and I need you ponies to come up with one. Now: any ideas? You there, any ideas?”
Applejack looked behind her, then at Discord, then behind her other shoulder, then pointed at herself.
“Yes, you.”
“Oh. Uh. Well, to be honest, I don’t know what a solution’d look like. I guess you’re saying he’s funny?”
“He’s overrated. Hit or miss, really. And he’s not even a hundred years old, whereas I am an ancient chaos spirit, so obviously I’m NOT ripping off his so-called ‘character.’”
“Ah. I do see the problem. He’s funnier’n you, and you hate that.”
“Oh for—of course he’s funnier than me! I have limits. He doesn’t!” Discord towered over Applejack and her hat, waving his stick. “Little secret for you, Applejack. When one of my jokes involves a bone saw or a falling piano, I’m tasteful with it. Just a quick sight gag, a strictly hypothetical threat of violence, and then it’s on to something else. He—no, I will not say his name—he won’t let the joke end. If he replaces your parachute with an anvil, he’s going to let you hit the ground.”
“Well,” said Luna, three rows back, “in fairness, that does sound quite funny.”
“Yes! It is!” Discord slapped the canvas screen. A projection of white teeth rippled across his lion’s knuckles. “It’s very funny. He’ll laugh and laugh as you fall, and that’s the last thing you’ll ever hear. Luna, have you ever seen a duck eat a plate of roast duck? That’s the kind of comedic genius we’re dealing with. Think about that.”
Fluttershy hopped up. “Actually, many birds eat other birds! For instance, the Northern Shrike lives on a diet of songbirds as well as various rodents, arthropods, and lizards.”
“That’s nature,” Discord said with a dismissive wave. “It’s nothing to do with this. This ‘duck’ knows better.”
Twilight frowned. “Since you mention it, I don’t understand why you won’t say his name.”
“Put it this way. What happens when you say Pinkie Pie’s name?”
Pinkie, who’d been sniffing the projector, looked up. “Huh?”
“Exactly.”
Celestia’s voice was full of apology. “Well, Discord, I guess I just don’t see the threat.”
“Well—he’s racist too! Some of his stuff has NOT aged well. His hatred of Nazis rings a bit hollow when you look at the way—”
“Wait, rings a little hollow? What do you mean?”
“Well, Celestia, it’s just a little tough to believe, at least completely.” Discord sighed. "Fighting bloodthirsty ethno-nationalism with bloodth—"
“So some kinda traitor? Is that it?? Is that what you’re trying to say?!?”
The pointer broke in Discord’s paw. He whirled to face the room.
The duck had another trick, one Discord hadn’t bothered to mention, because there wasn’t much you could do about it. The rules changed for Daffy Duck. Disguises worked differently. A simple dress, a hat, a beagle puss. in this way a duck could disguise himself as a pony, just as he disguised himself as a duck. Or as a hundred ducks sitting in a hundred folding chairs, staring at you with merry eyes.
Discord tugged on his collar. “N-now, there’s no need to fly off the handle—”
A blizzard of feathers, hooting laughter, a careening madness that filled the room and shattered the windows. The smell of cigarettes and scrapyard dirt. What followed was very funny, Discord had to admit; even the slideshow laughed. Songs were sung, alien celebrities were imitated. At one point Discord realized he'd been convinced, genuinely convinced, to smoke an exploding cigar. It was a kind of relief to see a worst case scenario in action, in a way. There was also gratification to be found in the fact that Daffy could imitate Discord’s friends so well. It meant that he wasn’t the only one watching other people’s cartoons.
Author's Note
I always swore to myself I'd submit something to one of these contests one day. I like this contest because I don't feel like I'm taking anyone's grocery money if I win. On the other hand I can't be bothered to look up the submission guidelines, so, eh.
Plus this fic should have been about the length of a tweet, let's be honest.
