I woke up with the start of a headache, which I swiftly stiffened with a mouthful of aspirin. And a side order of cough syrup too, sure, why not.

I ah, I sang. Yesterday evening, I mean. I sang. Joyfully and without a care for my social game. It’s not like anypony was going to take the reins and tell me to pipe down. I was still in my work uniform, after all. Canterlot wasn’t blind to what an ERB agent looked like, and the last thing a commoner wished for was to end up on our bad side. Thus, patrons left me to my own devices, with me drunkenly singing the mesmerizing love songs played by the band on stage.

This, shortly before staggering home and passing the heck out face first on my bed, sheets still in place. I had hoped my dreamless night was going to revitalize me back into my proper self, but nope, I still felt somewhat nauseous, bleh. My tongue felt like a dry sponge, as if I shoveled a bucketful of sand into my cakehole overnight. And as if that wasn’t enough, my joints were also giving me pain. What was I, a fifty-something impotent geezer? Last I’ve heard, I was still in the prime years of my life; you’d think, then, that I’d be able to handle my booze better, right?

Look. Mrs. Amphora wanted to see me this morning. If I couldn’t show her my best, if I couldn’t give her the apex of Lucky Coin’s enticing charisma, then it was game over for me. My boss has put a lot of trust in me, and the last thing I wanted was to turn her investment into a waste of her valuable time. If I was predisposed to botch that important meeting, then I might as well not show my hangover mug at all.

...

Wait, what was I even saying!? Was I going absolutely cuckoo or what? Today wasn’t skippable, no Sire! Everything hinged on this Friday. I had to look ready and pretty if I wanted my boss to go through with whatever she had in store for me.

Thus, with a new blade retrieved from the medical cabinet, I got rid of my five o’clock shadow. Cleaned and perfumed, I became the poster child of immaculate hygiene. Doped up on regrowing confidence, I smiled at my mirrored self, trying different angles to catch my good side (they were all good)!

But, um... After looking at the reflective glass for perhaps a bit too long, my jovial expression sagged a bit. I even saw my eyebrows twitch and contract just enough to raise concern. If I was showing my teeth with a smug grin seconds ago, now, they were concealed behind pouting lips.

A thought had tickled my overthinking brain. Not a particularly good one.

As I went downstairs on my way to swallow a couple of buttered toast, I just couldn’t get rid of that nagging sentence echoing in the depth of my meninges. It had Java’s timbre, it didn’t sound all too friendly, and it kept repeating: “You’ll find that it’s very lonely at the top.”

I mean, really now? Come on! What right did that ignoramus have to corrupt my routine this early in the morning? Before breakfast too? Ugh. I was already dealing with the fallout of my alcoholic binge; I didn’t need to get scolded by his holier-than-thou drivel on top of that.

You’ll find that it’s very lonely.

Lonely.

Tch, yeah right...

I looked around my kitchen. I could see the living room, the entry hall, and the staircase leading up. Everything was squeaky clean. Not a speck of dust desecrated the floor and the furniture, down to the very last lint deposit.

Quite obviously, I loved my house. Very open, very modern, very spacious, very... empty.

Huh.

I controlled my breathing for a moment, keeping the air in my lungs.

Nothing. Not a sound. Nada. My living quarters were so devoid of life. So lacking in company. I had a big residence for me to bask in my acquired luxuries, but nopony to share them with. I’ve told you about papa and mama already. How both of them got their light put out pre-emptively due to mechanical circumstances I’d rather not talk about. Point is though, they weren’t here anymore. They never saw what I had accomplished, what I had managed to build for myself. We never got the chance to sit around my dinner table, uncork a finely aged bottle of wine, and enjoy a riveting game of cards, or something.

“But Lucky, what about your siblings? Your grandparents?” Yeah, I had none of those. Bummer, eh? And don’t even pull the uncles and aunts card; these were also inexistant in my family tree, which, of course, voided any opportunities for cousins. Made for some pretty quiet Hearth’s Warming feasts, lemme tell you. Which was fine, it was all so fine. Why wouldn’t I think it was fine? Because it was! Fine that is – it was fine. Good even. And dare I say, pretty dang superb!

Hrmm? What’s this you say? That I should think about building myself a new family to make up for my lack of living relatives?

Pardon my Prench, but are you nuts!? If that’s your cure to loneliness, then that’s a hard pass for me. I’ve never dated, and wasn’t about to revise the policies governing my love life. I’ve had a couple of cheeky coworkers trying to coax me into meeting a few mares before, and every time without fault, I had to insist that, to me, romantic escapades were the antithesis of living a prosperous life.

Before you accuse me of endorsing chastity, or worse, being a loser who couldn’t score, lemme assert that this was a conscious choice. I didn’t need to allocate a good chunk of my drive toward satisfying another pony, and divide it further when a bunch of little monsters would inevitably challenge the tranquility of my status quo. Diners, movies, days out, family vacations, bleh. What a waste of your hard-earned cash. Seemed like a hindrance to your ability to progress from where I stood. Nah, truly, what was the need for love if only to make you stray from bigger goals, huh?

...

But boy oh boy, that house sure was quiet, haha... Guess I had my own echo to entertain me, at least. Made for some very, err, one-sided conversations, but y’know. I liked my voice, so there. Another win for Lucky Coin, yup yup!

Lonely.

...

Wait a minute, was I being sooky right now? I totally was, wasn’t I? Why? Today was the day! There was no reason to feel sorry for myself. Besides, I had all the satisfaction I yearned for through my work. The Bureau gave me a purpose, a lifelong project. That, to me, substituted any need for trivial company. So long as I had my dream job, I was golden.

Who said a pony needed friends and family to thrive? A fat paycheck was all the dopamine one needed; the rest was just childish clichés propagated by the mainstream. Some derived happiness from a table surrounded by foals, but me? Applying myself at work was what made life worthwhile.

I was happy, and I was getting promoted. Truly, I hadn’t plateaued yet. Here’s one for Lucky Coin, that handsome yuppie every pony in Canterlot strived to be!

Regaining my typical nonchalant smile, I chomped on a few plain old slices of bread (so much for the butter) and emptied a tall glass of orange juice. The acidity of a citrus was the best wake-up drug my body could ask for, packing an even stronger punch than a double shot of espresso.

Back into the game, I tossed my ERB saddlebag onto my withers and left my dwelling to seize the day. Hopefully, this little bump in my morning schedule wasn’t going to make me late.

“You are seven minutes late, Lucky Coin.”

Welp, so much for that.

As far as introductory words go, I’ve heard more optimistic openings from Mrs. Amphora. She didn’t say hi, as per tradition, but she could’ve at least asked me to sit down before telling me off. But nope, she immediately tore into me, which didn’t bode well for my subservient ass.

I didn’t dare to mutter a reply; it’s not like it would’ve saved face anyway. Instead, I gently closed the door of her prestigious office, and approached her desk. And what a desk it was! That semi-circle monstrosity must’ve been at least four meters long. Maybe five? Oh, and did I mention it was made out of freakin’ gold? Now there’s a factoid and a half for you. The burnt yellow shine of this hunk of gold was oddly fitting with Mrs. Amphora’s own colors, almost as if these two were made for each other. Not that I was particularly spiritual or anything, but maybe it’s been her destiny all along to bark orders at lesser ponies?

Let’s see, what else... Oh! You know how I was being all boastful about my office window and stuff yesterday? Well check this out: Hers took almost the entirety of the wall behind her, and was protruding out like some kind of balcony. She had the perfect vantage point to scrutinize those pesky pedestrians from above, as the money tycoon that she was.

She also had a few potted plants scattered across her office. Cool beans.

...

Nope, I totally wasn’t busy focusing on unimportant details because I was scared out of my wits, hahaha! Haha... ha...

“For a worker who sold himself as ‘punctual,’ you sure are off to a rocky start,” she eventually added whilst pushing her glasses back into place.

“Sorry miss- It won’t happen again, I promise.”

She didn’t even look up from the papers scattered on her workspace to see how bad I was squirming. She had all the experience in the world when it came to ponies sucking up to her, so my bootlicking apology held very little value. I knew this, she knew this, everypony knew this. Still, formalities were the founding principles of our company, the building blocks of the corporate world, so, y’know. I had to do what I had to do.

“If you are quite done, Lucky Coin, I’d like to get started. I have as much time on my hooves as I have patience.”

I nodded. What for, I didn’t know; she still refused to acknowledge my presence, heh. What she did do, though, was opening up a large folder filled up with paperwork I had no chance of recognizing. I did see a couple of ‘confidential’ stamps overlayed on the forms, and, more to the point, a big bold title on the first page that spelled the name of-

“Ponyville. Our latest acquisition. You’ll be happy to know that after countless hard-fought battles, we now have complete control over this small suburb.”

I swallowed wrongly, which forced me to try to stiffen a cough. Emphasis on the word ‘try.’ Yeah, I choked a bit there. But I mean... dang. Straight into it, eh? No sugar-coating her pitch, no in-depth summary of the situation, no preparatory steps paving the way for her big announcement, no nothing. Obviously, this left me with more than a few questions I simply had to elucidate.

“W-when did this happen? I’ve been trying to stay on top of this dossier, but, ah-”

“Two weeks ago. That’s when Princess Celestia decided to move onto the next phase. She greenlit the project and hereby put us in charge.” She flipped two or three pages. “Since then, I’ve been drowning in work, coordinating the transfer of Ponyville’s files from their backward system to ours. Before you ask, yes, this is why I haven’t been all too present with my periodic checkups lately.”

Having found the right place, she stopped skimming through her document and slid it with her magic on my side of the desk. She also floated an expensive looking quill into an equally as expensive ink pot, and invited me to grip it with magic of my own.

“Speaking of which, I’d like you to sign all of these,” she added with the same bored tone. “Put your name on each line with a red ‘x’ next to them, if you please.”

“Huh? I mean, sure, I’ll sign ‘em. But what are these? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. Amphora.”

“You were on the lookout for new available administrative spots, yes? You wanted to act as the intermediary between this neighbouring town and us, did you not?”

“Well, of course I did, but-”

“Then let’s make it official. Enjoy your promotion. Please keep your cheers for yourself.”

Ha!

Ha!!

And just like that, a new chapter of my life was about to be written! Or signed, rather!

Told ya I’d make it! To tell the truth, I had expected champagne and cigars, or at the very least, a couple of balloons, but sure, whatever, this’ll do. I didn’t need an ultra super duper mega party to commemorate this pivotal point in my career. Signing my name seven times – wait no, eight times, sorry – was already an award of its own. Who needed cake when you had your boss’ trust?

Hrmmm, m’yesyesyes. Let’s see here.

I squinted to look at what I was about to agree to. I wasn’t born yesterday: I knew signing contracts mindlessly was the number one scam simple-minded ponies kept falling for. But me, I’ve been trained to avoid such traps. N-not that I expected any dirty tricks from Mrs. Amphora, of course! She was an honest administrator in an honest firm, rewarding an honest worker with an honest offer. Still, call it the accountant’s itch if you will, but I simply had to at least quickly go through all of this legal salad. Doing it any other way felt wrong on so many levels.

And wowza did they cram a lot of characters on these pages! I saw a few normative clauses: Worker identification with all of my credentials, description of the new post and what the job entailed, a list of responsibilities I had to agree to, legal procedures in case of work injury (those darn papercuts), number of vacation days I was owed, and a bunch of other uninteresting stuff.

Signed, signed, signed, signed.

Piece of cake. Four down, four more to go.

Here, we had... huh. Now what was all that? A NDA pursuant to our firm’s policies on data leakage? A legally-binding vow of loyalty? A document exempting the ERB from any legal recourse if I was caught breaking Equestria’s code of laws, down to the most innocuous offense? Heck, a whole section was dedicated to informing the signatory of their immediate termination if they ever found themselves under suspicion of participating in whistle-blowing activities?

Whistle-blowing? What the hay was this all about? I had nothing but praise to give to the ERB, so were these precautionary measures really necessary? Like, on the one hoof, the ERB asked – nay, demanded my total and complete fidelity, but on the other, they were making darn sure to keep their hooves clean if I ever did something that displeased them. They were protecting themselves, but where was my protection? Seemed like a pretty one-sided partnership any way you cut it.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually reading all of this,” grumbled my boss. “Bad enough you show up late, but now, you decide to squander more of my precious time?”

I looked up from these documents chock full of red flags. Now Mrs. Amphora was fully staring at me, front legs crossed, a skeptical eyebrow raised. I’ve seen that look before. It was the “get the hay out of my office” look. Clock was ticking!

“I mean, uh, I just didn’t expect all of this to be this... I dunno, out there?” I timidly protested, exposing the bit about my agreement to never, under any circumstances, sue the ERB.

“Standard procedure, Lucky Coin. You need not to worry about the intent behind these fine prints; they’re mostly meaningless. I had to abide by similar restrictions myself years ago, and nothing came of it. Now sign, please, or kindly take the door.”

Um. Well, if these aggressive contracts truly did not hold any purpose, if they truly were harmless, then why were we even bothering doing this whole song and dance? What was the catch here? Because there had to be a catch, right?

Or maybe not. Probably not.

The Bureau was just. The Bureau was good. Trust the system, Lucky. Have some faith in the process. There were no double-entendres behind these papers. Just some hollow paragraphs to be stuffed in a file cabinet far and deep within the confines of our archives, never to be retrieved. Who’s worried? I wasn’t worried!

Signed, signed, signed...

...

Signed.

There. Whatever concerns I had now lingered in the past. No point dwelling on that anymore. Let us refocus on the positives instead! Why imagine the worst when I was getting promoted? When I was finally obtaining that which I’ve been dreaming about for several months? I had every reason to rejoice!!

“Thought we’d never get there,” Mrs. Amphora complained, gathering everything into a neat pile.

Well, every reason, save for my boss’ nonplussed attitude. Kind of a downer, not gonna lie. But ah well. She was who she was; there was no changing her nature. I could deal with her surliness, as I had done for years now. Some things will forever stay the same, alas.

Being appointed to oversee Ponyville’s activities, though, now THAT was different! This was all fine and dandy – hunky dory even – but it did beg the question:

What now?

“You may be asking yourself, ‘what now,’ Lucky Coin. Well, let’s go through what’s around the corner for you, my loyal subordinate.”

Always one step ahead, this lady, heh.

She encapsulated in a red aura a stack of files neatly wrapped by two strings and levitated the whole pile next to me. When she dropped it, it did this loud thud, testifying the hefty amount of lecture within.

“First of all, as the ERB’s first liaison between us and Ponyville, you will take the rest of the day to become familiar with your new obligations; they’re all clearly laid out in these files. I do not want you to take this key position lightly, so please, do try to cram as much as you can in that gray matter of yours.”

“Oh uh... Sure! I can do that,” I certified, unsure if I could actually do that. “But what about my normal work? I still had a few things to take care of before the week-end.”

“Delegate them to somepony else on this floor. You have the authority to do so.”

Did I now? Delicious. Absolutely delicious!

“I’m being quite serious, Lucky Coin. Do learn your new duties by heart. If you had any plans this week-end, cancel them. Instead, really take some time to sink your teeth into those files I just gave you, because next week, you can already expect to have some Ponyville material on your desk.”

“So soon?”

“The sooner, the better. Fortunately, we’re expecting to receive our first batch of resident records sometime around Wednesday. Until then, I want you to assemble a team and figure out how the upcoming workload will be distributed amongst them. Anypony on this floor is at your disposal, save for those who are working on Project Chameleon. I do not want to catch you distracting those who are affiliated with Dev Co. However, do try to learn from them if you have some spare time.”

She inched closer onto her deck, front hooves linked together.

“To make a long story short,” Mrs. Amphora calmly reassessed, “it is up to you to demonstrate proper leadership for this project. Remember: You are in charge.”

I was in charge.

Lucky Coin was in charge.

Sweet Celestia did that roll off the tongue so naturally! After all, I’ve been perfectly tailored for this kind of job, and I wasn’t going to disappoint anypony. This was my purpose, my calling. My four-leaf clover cutie mark bootstrapped my journey into becoming the pony that I was today. I ended up in the exact seat my studies paved the way for. All I really needed was a little bit of discipline, and my career-focused aptitudes would eventually pay off. And they did! They totally did!

Here’s a life lesson for you, kids: Work hard, never give up, and don’t sell yourself short. There was nothing more important in life than reaching the top. Fake it ‘til you make it if you must, so long as you keep your eyes on the prize. You owe it to yourself to claim what’s respectfully yours.

And never, ever let anypony get in your way. For any reason whatsoever.

“One more thing, Lucky Coin,” Amphora warned, bringing me back to Equus. “Should one of your agents stumble upon something... abnormal with their findings, please, have them report directly to you. Have a good look at the discrepancies, and if they really require my attention, then forward them to me. But always get your colleagues to talk to you first; you’ll be the bridge between them and I. Understood?”

I nodded. “Understood.”

“Good, because this is really important. I won’t tolerate any mishaps on that front. Be smart. Be efficient.”

I was smart. I was efficient. No problem there, miss!

Although, uh, was it just me, or did this chain of commands seem needlessly contrived, maybe? I wondered why she was putting so much emphasis on this particular point. So what if an overzealous agent bypassed my authority and went directly to her? We were all working together as a single unit, were we not?

Eh, who was I to question our esoteric methodology. Maybe Mrs. Amphora didn’t like to be distracted for trivial matters, I dunno. To a certain extent, I kiiind of shared the sentiment, though maybe not as viciously as she did. Well, if it was a pet peeve of hers, I certainly wasn’t going to rock the boat. She wanted me and only me to give her the big scoops? That’s exactly what she was going to get.

In the meantime, Mrs. Amphora saw me doing a whole lot of nothing on the other side of her desk, and aptly responded with a stern cough.

“You may now go,” she instructed.

No proper ‘hellos’ implied no warm ‘goodbyes’ either. Trust me, this was the most polite way she could’ve dismissed me.

I stood up from my haunches, and with a flick of the horn, used telekinesis to place the humongous pile full of charts and figures onto my back. It’s at a time like this that I almost, almost wished I was an earth pony, because my oh my, was that papery tower heavy! My spine was bending inward, and my poor feeble unicorn legs trembled under the weighty payload.

B-but don’t tell my boss that! I offered her a sheepish smile, which she then whooshed away with her hoof, really inviting me to get out of her mane already. Eh. So long as she didn’t notice my struggle, my pride stayed in pristine condition.

Even though my lumbar region was in agony, as I was crossing the large double doors of her luxurious office, I had to remind myself that the real challenge hadn’t even begun. Reading all of those rules, guidelines, and instructions without having my brain melt out of my ears? Now that will require a damn miracle!

Good news! Five days later, and my brain still hadn’t crapped out on me! I managed to make it all the way to Wednesday afternoon; the assigned deadline was fast approaching. I could practically smell it! And what a delicious smell it had!

Now, for the curious, yes, I’ve been busy. Incredibly busy, in fact. I’ll spare you the details, because the life of a bureaucrat was hardly exciting (I mean, it was, but). All in all, I’ve managed to power through my stack of doom, AKA the reading assignment Mrs. Amphora bestowed upon me. Every definition, every chapter, every subsection, every annex... everything had found a vacant plot in the wrinkles of my brain. Granted, I wasn’t quite the expert yet, but I had a pretty solid idea of what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Sure, I’ll learn most of my craft on the field – everypony did – but at least, I wasn’t going to jump into the fray like an unprepared buffoon.

The team building exercise has been surprisingly fun. I can’t say I had the same chemistry with every number cruncher of the thirteenth floor as the one I shared with Smith and Jones, but we still managed to come to an understanding.

Oh hey, speaking of S&J, I haven’t seen them at all this week. Even on the day of my promotion, they were nowhere to be found. Odd. Usually, they’d invite themselves into my office for a little bit of morning banter, chatting about how bad the cafeteria slop was, how bloody disorganized the royal guard battalions were, and- ponyfeathers! I really wanted to tell them about my new Ponyville gig!! What good were acquaintances for if not to flaunt in their faces?

C’mon on now! Who else was I supposed to put down to feel better about myself? I had no family and barely any friends, so who did that leave me with?

Java?

Oh, please.

Haven’t seen the boy since we were at each other’s throats back at the Barley Parlor. So far, neither of us have tried to contact the other party and negotiate peace. Well, it certainly wasn’t my fault! He was the perpetrator, the instigator of this stupid conflict, so it was up to him – not me – to make it right. I still expected his apology, by the way, and I was going to die on that hill waiting for it. No way would I submit to his stubbornness and be the first one to crack. I’d rather be smitten than admit defeat, or worse, that I was... urk... that I was wrong!

I mean, we’ve been pals for what, more than a decade? He should be well-versed with the rules about repenting by now! That’s how friendship worked, right? You break something: You fix it. Simple as. Anything short of that was downright illogical, and dare I say, incredibly primitive. After all, wasn’t it common knowledge that being right was more desirable than being happy?

Want my advice? Never try to be the better pony: Always, and I mean, always stand your ground until those who slighted you realize just how much of a pain in the neck they’ve been! Never yield, never surrender!!

...

But never mind all that! I was currently enjoying a daisy sandwich (not from the cafeteria) while revising for the third time the archaic system Ponyville implemented for their city taxes. I was in the midst of something that required a lot of mental calculations, so I simply could not afford to be distracted by something as frivolous as keeping your friends pleased.

But of course, when I overheard some ruckus coming from the corridor, keeping my concentration in check became painfully futile. My ears lifted up and picked up on a few ruffled voices, plus the sound of a cart, or some kind of heavy object, rolling toward my office. The voices were steadily getting louder, as well as growing more and more discontent.

A couple of clients coming back to congratulate me for my services, perhaps? Gosh, I wish I’d be so lucky!

Nah, in lieu of returning customers, a large trolley bumped my door from ajar to fully opened. Said trolley was jam-packed with overflowing boxes, with a few stray papers floating out of the cargo, almost in a cartoony way. I saw a wide array of folders crammed between elastics, and a few large blue binders to add a bit of color to this whimsical contraption.

Now, of course, this trolley wasn’t moving under its own volition. By the end of the handle, a mare had assumed control of the File Express™. A mare who looked rather peeved, should I say. And old. Definitely old. I mean, the gray mane/tail paired with the lil’ reading glasses spoke for themselves. The puffy forest green cravat wasn’t doing her any favors either. And can we talk about how passé that manecut was?

My my, just who was this specimen, mmmh?

“Mayor Mare, I must insist, you are not allowed in this sector!” yelled an unseen security officer whose name I haven’t bothered to learn two years after being relocated to this floor.

Mmmh, Mayor Mare, eh? Her name did appear in a few places in my allocated documents. That’s too bad: I had imagined someone a little bit more... I dunno. Glamorous? Distinguished? Definitely taller, at least. But nope. Cravat it was.

“Do not tell me where I can and cannot tread, guardian!” the mayor barked back. “Bad enough you force the rest of my travelling coworkers to wait on the porch, but now, you’re also trying to restrain me!?”

“Ma’am, I’m not trying to-”

“No, no! I don’t want to hear it, you hear me? I simply have to take a good gander at the swindler who will inherit-”

Well, took her long enough, but she finally did it: She turned to face me. What manners! If you’re going to barge into somepony’s office, the least you could do is acknowledge who it is you’re disturbing.

“Ah,” she squinted, “and you must be this Lucky Coin fellow I’ve heard so much about, eh? I suppose that makes you the charlatan to whom I will entrust the security of my beloved citizens?”

... And a hello to you too, dearest lady.

It’s at this point that security Mc. Dude finally caught up with his stubborn runaway. And look at that, he even looked a bit exhausted. At least, that’s what I gathered from his sweaty brow and his tongue dangling out of his maw. Stellar warding, I must say! Losing track of a middle-aged mare hauling a heavy load in an environment unknown to her? Somepony sure was earning their pay!

“S-sorry Lucky!” apologized the generic, if a bit portly, unnamed guard. “I-I was napping, and I didn’t see her coming through, b-but I will escort her out, now that I have-”

I finished my meal in one big bite and lifted my hoof. “No. No it’s quite alright, uh... big guy. Leave us alone for a bit. After all, the good mayor is only here to chat, is she not?”

I waggled my eyebrows at her. She squinted even harder, as if such a feat was even possible.

The guard scratched his hat, somewhat confused. “Uh... O-okay then. Come get me if it gets heated. You know where to find me.”

To the mercy of my nerves, he thankfully withdrew from the scene, probably to doze off again or whatever.

With the mayor and I now unbothered, I took this occasion to haphazardly rearrange my messy desk, put my front hooves on the freed space, and offer her the best customer service smile I could give. My guest, however, was waiting for me to actually say something, probably to seize the kind of pony I was. Well, who was I to deny her the satisfaction of getting to know me better?

I gave a polite cough. “So, my good mayor, it is my understanding that you came all the way here just to meet me? I am flattered; that’s quite the honor!”

“Do not play coy with me, shark! I want to make it clear that I am not happy with the current deal that’s been imposed upon me. The interests of Ponyville’s inhabitants are of the utmost importance to me, and I do not appreciate how Canterlot decided to interfere with matters that do not even concern them in the slightest!”

Yikes, feisty! A challenging opponent for sure, wonderful! Let’s see what she was really made of.

“Oh? Is that what you believe?” I baited, hoping she’d bite.

“Yes! Yes, that is what I believe! You pen pushers do not give an ounce of care about the wellbeing of my little ponies, and I have this foreboding feeling that money grubbers of your notoriety will only make it significantly harder for everypony involved! My team has done a wonderful job overseeing Ponyville’s tax collection for years – even going back further than your own birth – and I cannot comprehend why we’re losing control of what is rightfully ours! This is total nonsense!”

As she was saying this, she started pacing in circles, looking down on the floor, almost as if she was too flabbergasted to face her new reality.

Well, let’s help her out then, shall we?

“Ms. Mayor Mare, I can assure you that our level of professionalism in the domain is unmatched, and I will personally see that everything stays in order. After all, we stand at the dawn of a new era, and obsolete practices that refused to adapt with the modernization of Equestria must be culled away. Thus, the Bureau will monitor Ponyville’s denizens and succeed where you have failed.”

“Excuse me!?” she recoiled. “Are you implying we were not doing a decent job?”

“I’m not implying, I’m telling you: Mayor Mare, you are WAY past your halcyon days.”

She gasped in an overly theatrical way, completely offended. Somepony had to break it to her, and it looks like the burden fell on me. But fear not: I was just getting warmed up! Doubling down, I picked up a pad with horn magic and waved it next to me.

“Don’t believe me? Well here’s one for you: Statistics clearly stipulate that every year, as per our taxation laws, Ponyville, alongside many other small-fry boroughs, always comes a little short. This malpractice has been ongoing for far too long now, and princess Celestia has had enough. I don’t know how you ran things in your city, but this kind of abhorrent negligence is absolutely inexcusable, and not to be tolerated!”

I stood up from my desk, dropping the pad in the process. I took a couple of steps toward the mayor who hadn’t stopped gunning me down with her stare. My ego was building up her ire, which in turn stroked my ego some more, ad infinitum.

“You know what I think?” I rhetorically asked with a patronizing flair in my tone. “I think you served Ponyville well for years. But face it, grams: You are out of your league. Old has-beens shouldn’t be in control of money affairs anyway; it’s too precarious of a responsibility to be mishandled. So please, do not make this difficult and step aside, because from now on? I am the one in charge.”

...

“Why, you little weasel!” she scoffed, stomping a defiant hoof. “First of all, I’m not even that old! My mane and tail are merely dyed in gray to instill respect – something you’re clearly lacking! Secondly, how dare you talk down to me like this!? All you care about is how much you can syphon out of my electorate, but I’m telling you, there are more factors at play here! Taxation isn’t just about bleeding ponies dry; it’s a multi-layered conundrum, something young punks like you do not have the expertise to fully comprehend! If you think I’m just going to passively hoof over-”

Blah blah blah. I think I’ve been sufficiently patient with her, yes? Because I was growing insanely bored of her whiney spiel. She just went on, and on, and on!! Older ponies stuck in their antiquated ways and spitting down at the next generation? Pfeh. In other news, the sky was blue.

“-and moreover, you medley Canterlotians have no idea what goes on in Ponyville. Our quiet and peaceful lifestyle is not for sale, for we are a nice retreat happy to welcome all kinds of families, tourists, and anypony else who-”

“I’ve heard enough,” I interrupted her, my hoof raised. “You’ve said your piece, and while this is certainly an invigorating conversation, I’d appreciate it if you left my office now. I have a metric ton of work to tackle, and you’re currently preventing me from doing just that. That sounds an awful lot like trespassing to me. You do not want us to have to use force, don’t you?”

“You’re kicking me out?” she scoffed.

“That’s more or less what I’m trying to do, yes.”

She took a few seconds, and then flared up her nostrils, doing a one-eighty toward my door. On the way there, she took a quick glance at the cart full of classified material she brought in, a sneaky glint shining in her eyes and-

Oh no.

No no no no!! Don’t you dare! Don’t do it, you hag!

Bump. CRASSSH.

Aaaaaaah nuts, she did the thing. As the devious earth pony that she was, she put all of her weight on her front hooves, and used her back ones to majestically buck the cart. Needless to say, it toppled, and spilled everything it held in a blizzard of papers.

“Oops,” she sassed, unapologetic, before making her way out.

Welp, her cool now joined Ponyville in an exclusive list of things she had lost control of.

Ugh. Would you look at this mess? A mess was a mess, but a bureaucratic mess, now that was something! I’ll have to place everything back in the right order, a task that would take me hours upon hours, as if I even had any spare... uh...

Hang on a minute, what was I talking about here? I could just appoint another pony to clean everything up for me! I had that power now, fantastic!

Still. I could do my part too. I wasn’t exactly a neat freak, but a cart laying on its papery grave in the middle of my office didn’t really do it for me. Thus, with a bit of struggle, I pushed it back onto its four wheels. I then quickly gathered the papers into a disorderly mound with my telekinesis. Finally, I floated a couple of binders to put them back onto-

Oh?

Well well well, what did we have here? Loosely wedged between two pages of the largest binder, a red portfolio fell on the floor. It was quite vibrant compared to the rest of its monochrome brethren. Suffice to say, my curiosity was getting quite piqued. Without a minute to spare, I decided to float that mystery package onto my desk, and excitedly sat on my wheely chair.

What? I’ll tidy up later! This was far too intriguing of a puzzle to simply gloss over, and I couldn’t resist a good challenge, y’know?

Aaaanyway. Examining my discovery like a fascinated foal, it dawned on me that I stumbled upon a literal gold mine! The first sign of my good fortune were the logos creased onto the cover of the portfolio. Six icons I initially did not pay much attention to, but that tripled in relevance when juxtaposed to the files held within.

Here’s what they depicted: A six pointed star, a cloud shooting a jagged bolt, and then four trios: One of apples, one of butterflies, one of gems, and one of balloons.

Startin’ to get the picture?

I had, in my hooves, the financial portrait of the Element bearers.

All of their secrets. All of their assets. Everything that catered to their privacy, on my desk. It was right there, ripe for me to scrounge through. This was the exact kind of intel any villain worth their name would kill to put their grubby hooves onto. A means to blackmail and spy on those who thwarted them so often, bundled in a 210mm × 297mm booklet? I'm sure queen Chrysalis would've traded her failed invasion for that power.

Make no mistake: Having access to the “behind-the-scenes” of six national heroes was an immense responsibility! I had in my possession critical data nopony had seen before. Well, save for those who handled the Element bearers’ economic profile back in Ponyville, but shush, they didn’t count!

How incredible that I had the opportunity to delve into the life of a hero and analyse the purchase habits of those who repeatedly saved Equestria’s bacon. Did they have extravagant tastes, or were they more ascetic with their budget? Did they buy the same food as us, or were they operating on a different diet? Were they careless spendthrifts, or did they prefer playing the long game by cautiously saving their bits?

And most importantly, were their taxes correctly paid?

Were our ragtag team of saviors goodie-two-horseshoes when it came to giving back to their government, or was there something more ominous hidden in this portfolio? Were they, in fact, acting unlawfully under the protection of Mayor Mare, explaining why she tossed a big fuss over me having access to such sensitive information?

Ack, too many what-ifs!

I had to find out. I couldn’t bear living without finding out.

I opened the portfolio and read the preface. The scribe who had written it was verbose and eloquent; props to them. Not all too succinct, however. Overall, I’ll give his effort a solid B+. Decent preface.

Snark aside, said preface did highlight an interesting tidbit: Apparently, Twilight and the rest of the gang had access to a basic income funded by the Crown due to their special status. From what I’ve gathered, this was done to ensure that Equestria’s cherished superstars wouldn’t end up as low-life vagrants, unable to protect the kingdom anymore. That sounded extremely unfair to me, but whatever, I didn’t make the rules. Though, hypothetically, if I was one of princess Celestia’s advisors, I’d push to nullify that sleazy deal ASAP, ha!

So yeah. Six ponies enjoying free bits taken directly from the taxpayers’ pockets. Good to be them and sucks to be us, I guess.

But that was just the surface stuff. What I strived for were the juicy details partaking to each individual of our power sextet. To have a semblance of order in the process, let us begin our journey with the Element bearers who were, for all intents and purposes, considered “unemployed.”

The first pick was a no brainer. I was talking about none other than Ms. Kindness herself: Fluttershy. Her record clearly stipulated that she held no official form of employment. Instead, her primary occupation seemed to be tending to animals in some kind of sanctuary, which she held on her property. Her expenses were few and far between, thankfully. Most of her bits went into supplying food, medicine, and everything else to ensure the wellbeing of her pets. She definitely had a strict budget, only really spending for those around her who needed it the most. According to this table, she was running her allowance thin, but that’s okay, because she was enjoying hearty donations from her friends, preventing her from going bankrupt. This was especially prevalent with the Element of Generosity, but we’ll get to her case later.

For now, let us focus on the leader of the group, the one who could bend Equestria’s magic to her will, the one and only: Twilight Sparkle. Says here she was in charge of a library in Ponyville. This made her situation a bit nebulous, because while this profession could be considered a legitimate one, this library was part of a non-profit organization. Luckily, the town hall was more than happy to compensate her for her volunteering, almost as if renting books for free was considered a form of social program in Ponyville. Moreover, she was on the receiving end of many generous grants dealt by the Crown itself, as a means to fund her research. I could see why this was necessary: The scientific equipment she had acquired certainly came with a greasy price tag!

Okay, now onto the actual contributing and productive members of society. Let’s see what this portfolio has to say about Applejack. She was a devout farmer – not unlike the rest of her family – with borderline workaholic tendencies, so it was written. Well, that was definitely something I could commend! Still, the poor lassie was living by the skin of her teeth, money wise. She had a lot of farm equipment to pay for, a lot of cattle to support, and many construction projects her and her peers had to take care of. Thus, she had a lot of crops to sell to overcome that heavy financial upkeep. This report showed that they had managed to make due over the years, but they didn’t exactly have a safety cushion to fall back onto.

Pinkie Pie, the number one party pony (dunno why the portfolio needed to precise that), was next on the list. Now this one was surprising! She had a pretty standard job, working in a bakery. A small part of her salary was allocated to pay for the utilities and ingredients bought by her workplace, seeing as the owners rented her a living space in the very same establishment. Otherwise, Pinkie seemed to spend most of her bits on food and party supplies. But you know what the kicker was? Of every Element bearer, she was the only one who had been smart enough to place her money in investment funds! She was even honoring her RRSP account with regular biweekly payments! I hadn’t expected a pony as erratic as her to be responsible with her wallet.

The last two members were the big earners of the group. First, we had Rainbow Dash. This pegasus was working in the weather factory, and her high ambitions awarded her multiple promotions over the years. Atta girl! You and I knew what was up, ha! So yeah, her salary obviously benefited from said promotions. Now, where she and I disagreed was the way we used our paychecks. Unlike Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash was more of a “spend first, think later” kind of gal. And sweet Celestia, was she buying impractical stuff! Mostly Wonderbolts merchandise, for some reason. Like, look at this: A seven hundred bits poster signed by Spitfire herself? Talk about useless!

This left us with Rarity. The sole pony in the gang part of a higher tax bracket. Yeah, I won’t sugarcoat it: Lady was loaded. She had the most lavish tastes in her group and it wasn’t even close. However, her job as a fashionista provided her with the financial means to get there. To make it even better, being quite the entrepreneur, her business was thriving. She sat on a steady flow of orders, so much so that her backlog was stretching for months ahead. Her job security was unprecedented, and she was well aware of this. This obviously shaped her to be an exorbitant spender. I mean, these numbers didn’t lie! Expensive furniture for her Carousel Boutique, weekly spa treatments, exotic satin and silk imported from Saddle Arabia for her many creations, fancy restaurant bills, touristic trips to Canterlot, and, uh...

Um...

Hang on, this wasn’t- Something wasn’t adding up here. Did I make a mistake, or...? Maybe I should double check, just to make sure that...

...

Oh wow, okay. Now THAT was rather amusing! If what I was seeing truly meant what I thought it did, then there was not a single second to lose!

Dissonantly exhilarated, I stuffed everything back into the red portfolio, floated it on my back, dodged the landfill still present on the floor, and bolted out of my office.

“-And so, after doing a lil’ more digging, I confirmed that yes, there was indeed an incongruity that slid into her report!”

I was breathing in and out, exhausted to have run my mouth nonstop for a good five minutes without so much as pausing for air. My heavy respiration was cutting through the silence, an exercise that became increasingly awkward when no proper follow-ups ensued.

On the other side of the golden desk, Mrs. Amphora looked rather aloof. She took her glasses off, wiped the lenses with a lavender cloth retrieved from a small posh box, and re-accessorized her face with them. Then, I saw her horn glow, and without turning to look at her target, a magical amoeba had formed around the rope dangling by the big bay window of her office. With a mental tug, zviiiit, the blinds closed themselves.

Now obtaining the privacy she apparently sought, my poker-faced boss cleared her throat, thankfully putting my undying anticipation out of its misery.

“You’re going to have to run that by me one more time, Lucky Coin,” she declared in earnest. “This time, do try to articulate a bit more clearly. Be concise, but be precise.”

I pouted with an audible moan, a desperate gaze toward the ceiling. I mean, give me a break, here! I couldn’t be faulted for being a teensy bit excited over unearthing something that could potentially topple the fine balance of Equestria in over its head!

Alright alright! She wanted a rerun? Well here we go again, then. Lucky’s essay, take two:

“Okay. So, here we have Ms. Rarity, Element of Generosity, renowned fashion designer, and licensed world saver. I received her file today and decided to explore what it had to say about her. Everything initially seemed in order, until I did a thorough survey of the declarations she filed for the previous years.”

I flipped back a couple of pages to pinpoint the year in question that had attracted my suspicion.

“So, as you can see, for each passing year, the total gross income Rarity has received is tallied on the bottom, over here. Now, compare this number with the ones written for the few previous and following years. Anything strikes you as unusual?”

I moved more pages and looked up. Mrs. Amphora wasn’t interested in giving me the satisfaction of a reply. Eesh, tough crowd. Guess I was on my own during this sales pitch, then.

“Hum, well, it’s unusually low is what it is,” I eventually answered myself. “If we take a look at her table of commissions, it appears that her shop was in a bit of a tough spot at the time, with lower demand for costumes, apparels, and other miscellaneous fashion products. On the other hoof, these purchase orders tell us that around the same period, the Carousel Boutique was in the middle of heavy renovations, which, according to the quoted amounts over there, had begun several months back.

“Here’s the rub, though. All of these expenses piled up to become greater than the profit she was making back then. Yet nowhere do I see that Rarity took a loan from the bank, or sold personal assets to make up for that difference. Likewise, her savings remained untouched; it’s all written here! Look at that: No changes! I even checked other potential income sources, such as monetary transfers from family or friends, but have come up empty hoofed as well.”

This was it, the big twist! The culmination of my private investigation! I was so eager to get to the end of my speech, I was hardly able to contain myself.

“Since the Carousel Boutique went on to stay in business,” I continued, my composure hanging by a thread, “something must’ve compensated for this loss. Yet I’ve found nothing to prove that her deficit has been reimbursed over the years. This leaves us with two possible conclusions: Either Rarity has lied about how much she actually earned in that fiscal year, or she’s hiding an extra, undeclared source of revenue. If this is the case, then we’re talking about taxable money that should’ve been collected by the Bureau!”

Bada bing bada boom! Now there’s a bombshell – and I wasn’t talking about Rarity, here!

I think I did a pretty good job explaining myself this time. Made me wonder if my boss was going to make me repeat for a third time, or if she was going to spare my salivary glands. Fortunately, she seemed rather satisfied for the time being. It took her a bit, but when she saw I had nothing else to add, she grinned from cheek to cheek.

“Excellent work.”

Hear that? Two words that held all the meaning in Equus! Yup, my boss just praised my efforts! She was putting so much trust in my judgement that she didn’t even bother double checking if I wasn’t completely off with my accusations! Nor did she ask additional questions to further clarify this case! Almost as if she had expected me to stumble upon this discrepancy in the first place, hahaha!!

Haha... ha?

Wait what? Being railroaded into pre-made verdicts?

Pffft, no way! I was just, uh, imagining things. Yeah that’s right! What would be the point of being roped into discovering a violation of this magnitude anyway? After all, wasn’t it my job to do precisely that? Besides, my superior could be proud of me every now and then – nothing unusual about that!

I think...

“Somehow, I always had an inkling that something was not right with this town,” Mrs. Amphora said with a honeyed voice. “How telling that my hypothesis would be proven true on the very first day of the transfer.”

She stood up in a jiffy, leaving her velvety chair spinning. She slowly approached her wall of diplomas, facing away from me. I guess now was the right time to take a nostalgic trip down memory lane?

“Looks like you shed light on a delicious little nugget of information with your auditing, Lucky Coin,” she reiterated, straightening a frame. “It disappoints me to hear that Equestia’s Big Six are not all they seem. As the saying goes, a bad apple spoils the bunch, wouldn’t you agree?”

I agreed! I agreed a hundred times over! I shook my head like a bobblehead to prove how much I agreed!

Like, seriously, who were they to use their fame and prestige to bypass the rules everypony else had to adhere to? Weren’t they supposed to be role models and what not? Talk about failing to show the example!

You know what they say: Never meet your heroes. Otherwise, you might get severely burned. There was no guarantee that celebrities who appeared like saints in front of the cameras weren’t, in fact, concealing undercover lives brimming with vices and unethical activities. I had learned this the hard way, and it would behoove you to exert caution on the matter.

“Leave this incriminating portfolio on my desk and meet me tomorrow before lunch, my obedient employee. Until then, I'll devise a plan to see what can be done about Rarity’s fraudulent behavior.”

She craned her neck to lock her eyes into mine, which, between you and I, made me jolt just a smidge. It’s as if she was holding my soul hostage with her piercing red irises.

“For the time being, keep this under drapes: This is a you and me problem. Do not involve anypony else in this debacle, lest it gets blown out of proportions and. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes ma’am! Crystal clear!”

“Excellent. I’d like for you to go home now. Remember: Tomorrow before lunch, and keep your lips sealed.”

I bowed, aimed for the door, and-

“Oh, and Lucky Coin?”

-turned my head to see the cocky expression on my boss’ face.

“There’s a good chance that you’ll be on the road tomorrow. Do wear something nice; you’ll be the first ERB representative to officially set hooves in Ponyville. We ought to leave a mark.”

Oh, no worries there.

A mark we shall leave.

Author's Note

This isn’t a fake update this time! Hurray!

Seriously though. Sorry about my mishap last time. I think I’ve said my piece in the comments of the last chapter. Tl;dr, I hit submit for this chapter when it was still incomplete, because I wanted to test some formatting stuff and yadda yadda yadda. It’s all in the past now.

I’d like to say that it won’t happen again, but I’m well too versed with my general dumbassery. I mean no harm, though!

Anyway. So here, we have a semblance of a plot thickening. Not the most exciting chapter by any means, but I’m setting up stuff for the next one. In chapter 3, we’ll have a bit more action (relatively speaking; we’re still talking about the life of a piece of shit white collar worker, here). In the meantime, Rarity is in trouble with the law, oh no, would you look at that. I wonder how a lady of her stature will react after being put on the spot? Will LC send her crying on her sofa, or is he going to be bucked all the way to the moon? We shall find out next time.

Added Mayor Mare as a tag for this story, just because I could. Her characterization was a fun thing to do, btw. Yes, she’s super aggro here, a sharp contrast with her more caring and somewhat clumsy demeanor portrayed by the show, but that’s only because deep down, she cares a lot about the citizens of Ponyville. Intruding the sanctity of her governance is definitely not a button of hers you want to push.

Oh, and finally, I decided to use the RRSP model instead of the 401(k) American equivalent, because the show is Canadian, is it not? Oh well, you get the idea.