Equestrian PSAs and Ad spots

by Gabriel LaVedier

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Trixie, Spike, Gilda, Random
Length: 15445

The spaces between TV shows.

Even in a happy land like Equestria, there are a few small matters that must be handled. And of course, stuff needs to be said or sold. Whether it be talking of marginalized groups or selling cider, these are the spots between television programs.

Published 2012-11-23 20:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-23 22:15:00 UTC

... And I'm Roani

You idly watch a bit of mid-afternoon Equestrian television, half-heartedly paying attention to the cheery ads. Then something new comes on. It is preceded by the insignia of the Royal Sisters and the Ministry of Community Relations. That certainly draws the eye.

You see a cheery and bright day on the outskirts of Schwarzwald, a little town of Kleinpferd ponies closer to central Equestria than their region of origin. The camera pans in over a small two-story, a fixer-upper in the middle of being fixed. The exterior is a bit rough, with some evidence of cracks and small hints of warping. But there's a fresh coat of paint on everything, in many happy, bright colors. Wind chimes, in metal, glass, wood and stone, hang all around the house, tinkling, ringing, clattering, clacking as the breezes blow. The lawn is cut down to size, and is free of debris, though a full, professional grade, aerobatic course is set up, constructed from found materials and painted in the same cheery colors as the house.

The camera pans around again, to watch a light periwinkle unicorn mare, in a cape and wizard hat, doing magic. She is levitating various streamers while colorful lights pop behind her, seen to be small pebbles overloaded into creating colorful trails. She seems familiar, as if you've seen her before, maybe at a fair, or at some traveling show. A voice-over starts, probably her. The voice somehow seems to match.

“This is how I am most of the time during the day. Practice makes perfect after all. Oh certainly... the great and powerful Trrrrixie is perfect already. But it never hurts to be even MORE perfect. There's nothing odd about a unicorn practicing magic, is there?”

The mare turns quickly, in a flourish, her cape billowing out and a diaphanous ribbon marked with colorful images flowing under her tail, tied to it. Wait... that means she's a Roani. Or a Gypsy, to those that are especially old or not very enlightened. It at least marks the origin of the epithet “ribbontail.”

“I'm here, in my home, living my life. It's not like it used to be. I no longer roam free in a caravan. But there is a certain charm to a settled house. It's a lot like what the promises for my clan were like. Someday we would rest. And I have a wonderful place here. A house is just so big, and I can decorate it so wonderfully! Truly this is where the great and powerful Trixie belongs.”

She creates a blinding flash of golden light and smoke, and is gone! Or rather, can just be seen dashing off the screen. The camera moves across to catch her standing and smiling, looking as though she thought her little flash trick had worked out right. She takes a bow, cape billowing lightly.

Various props levitate out into view, flashing past the screen. Linking and unlinking rings, flower-sprouting wands, a newspaper cone with milk pouring into it. At the center of it all is the unicorn, her horn glowing brightly under her hat. She certainly seems to have a natural talent for it.

“So please, come and see a show. It will be DAZZLING. Like nothing else in Equestria. Count on it. No neiiiiiiighsayers need apply.”

The scene changes quickly, to something that looks like the inside of the average television studio. Trixie is sitting there, looking cool and casual. Across the bottom of the screen is a little blurb. Trixie Lulamoon, Magician/Entertainer. Trixie finally speaks for herself, looking just off from the camera like a pro. “My name is the great and powerful Trixie Lulamoon. I'm a magician of great skill, and I'm Roani.”

Before the PSA ends, a telephone number and address is put up at the bottom of the screen, along with the seal of the Ministry again.

It's later. The afternoon winds into early evening. The shows are nice, a good mix of comedy and drama. You're on a different channel than the one you had been watching. Naturally. It was the one with that great show. The commercials are on again. But as before, you see the Ministry seal and the royal seal.

The camera sweeps around a rather bustling and VERY nicely-decorated room. It's not really clear what it might be. A resort maybe. A fancy hotel. Some kind of mansion, though surely not the mere occupation of one rich family. There are travelers of all descriptions, walking behind luggage carts pulled by bellhops, and overseen by various other figures.

The camera swings through the lobby and along a path past many ponies and others, into a rather noisy space. A casino. The activity is brisk and the voices boisterous. All the normal games are in evidence. Indeed, while it lacks the pomp and pretension of a Las Pegasus casino, it appears fully-featured.

The focus of the lens comes around to focus on a unicorn mare passing along the tables, looking like she was overseeing everything. She is carnation in color, with a mane of orange and yellow, but tail of green and blue; she is wearing a nice outfit, a light purple blouse and matching skirt that covers her hindquarters, with a purple scarf tied around her head.

“It's all 'go' around here. Dawn to dusk. And that's only because I am not either princess. I need sleep now and then. It's still going on when I lie down with my husband, and waiting for me when we rise to face the day. Oh he helps. But I work as hard as him. Harder. I also must handle family matters.”

The mare is followed towards a quieter, private-looking area. As before, she wears a ribbon on her tail, outside of her dress. You see the camerapony pass between two stern-looking guards as the new room comes into view. It is a lounge, sparsely-populated, filled with octagonal tables with padded benches around them.

The fancy mare moves to the farthest table, which is raised over the others, though is of the exact same style. While the others are bare, this table has a bowl of candied nuts sitting in the center. She takes a seat and smiles into the camera.

“Of course, it's not all organizing and overseeing. That would burn me to a cinder, and in short order. I don't just take time off to sit and do nothing, of course. I keep working, but in a different capacity. Sometimes I hearken back to my old calling as a drabani, a fortune-teller.”

She takes a seat on the padded bench at the rear of the table, and takes out a deck of cards, which looks larger than a normal set, and also much taller. A few deft shuffles and she deals them out. You see the are not conventional at all. The pictures on them are ornate, rather than simple suited pips. There are also a few odd ones that are only images, like “The Fool” and “The Sun.”

The mare regards the cards and their positions, nodding her head as she takes it all in. After a short time she gives the camera a smile and taps one of the cards. The Wheel of Fortune. A golden wheel with a beautiful mare inside it.

“So do not be afraid, of myself OR my family. Come down to see us. Find your fortune in the casino, or learn your fortune from my cards. You will indeed be fortunate no matter what.”

The scene alters with a quick cut, back to the television studio, the mare sitting, calm and welcoming. She looks like the ideal image of a kind, sweet mare. Across the bottom of the screen is a blurb. Matron Aurelina LaRoulette, Casino Owner/Fortune-Teller/Roa Baro. Aurelina broadens her smile and says, “My name is Aurelina LaRoulette, matron of Chateau LaRoulette, and I am Roani.”

As before, the screen shows an address and phone number, together with the seal of the Ministry of Community Relations.

You're rather comfy now, in the late evening. That new show about the Diamond Dog nurse is very engaging. As has been the norm for the day, there comes a quick cut of official seals, and then the public service announcement begins in earnest.

There's something familiar about the setting of the latest PSA. It's hard to tell, really, because the camera is zipping and zooming around through what looks like a standard flight school course. Of course, it's more like a standard flight school course from Tartarus made of materials gathered from around various second-hoof shops.

A quick blur zips past the camera, a white-and-tawny flash. The figure zoomed around a few poles and through a series of rings, before finally ending up pausing with a spread of wings and a mighty screech. She was a bald eagle griffin hen, toned and very strong.

“It's not easy being me. Not just because I'm awesome, and a great flier, but because of what I am. Yea, yea, I'm totally an Egg Grabber. All you griffins know what that means. But naw, it's way more than that.”

The powerful griffin gives an acrobatic spin, a ribbon fluttering under tail, and marking her as a Roa. That seems wrong. Roa seem to be all ponies, mostly unicorns. A Roani griffin seems very odd and inexplicable. She zips away, the ribbon streaming behind her while she dodges around the poles again and through the rings. She takes a quick run around the course, streaking faster and faster, almost seeming to stretch out a bit in flight.

“I'm a Roa. Oh, what? You think I can't be because I'm a griffin? Well forget you! Dweebs. It's totally possible for anyone to be a Roa. My fiancee is one, and she taught me a lot. Enough to impress her family. That's the ticket.”

From the ground, a series of glowing projectiles streak up. The griffiness barely has to exert any effort at all to dodge them. She practically dances around them. That might even be the intent. They shoot up in an incandescent swarm, yet with a kind of pattern to them. They led the agile flier. Or perhaps something she did brought up the streaking colors. They acted in concert, as one. A symbiotic relationship.

The camera pans down to the ground. The source of the colorful streaks is seen to be... that unicorn from much earlier in the day. Trixie Lulamoon. It would explain how a griffin could be Roani. The unicorn's horn glows brightly, several stones levitating and then flying off, the stones glowing with the mana being pumped into them. She cheerfully provides an extra challenge for her fiancee and performing partner.

“They call it 'Roanipen', knowing about their culture and their language and all that stuff. Marrying one isn't good enough, but I'm doing that too. Beats the scrub out of what I had back in the Kingdom. The Roa love Egg Grabbers, and don't care what you are. I've got it made. Hot mare, great place, and a culture that actually wants me. Oh yea, life is sweet.”

Back in the studio, the griffiness is sitting down, proud and noble. Her head is slightly tilted up, her eagle eyes staring defiantly into the camera. She is either trying to intimidate those with prejudices against Roa, or perhaps even shooting defiance into the Griffin Kingdom for their stance on filly foolers. Across the bottom is her blurb. Gilda sen Electra O'Bald, Aerialist/Entertainer. “My name is Gilda sen Electra O'Bald, soon to be Lulamoon, and you'd better believe, I'm Roani.”

The ministry seal, phone number and address flash on the screen as the PSA ends.

The next day, on another channel, there's a short PSA. One of the smaller spots. It opens with the address and phone number, which stay on the screen.

Twilight Sparkle appears front and center in the same studio reserved for the ends of the other spots. She looks properly caring, looking into the camera in an awkward but sincere manner. Beneath her was the blurb, Twilight Sparkle-Pie, Researcher/Royal Scholar.

“Hello there. For centuries, during the banishment, Roa suffered persecution, derision and hate. They were hated for being Luna's chosen and her most loyal. Even after, when it was all a part of culture for them, they were still treated poorly, discriminated against, feared and lied about. They do not steal foals, they are not all criminals, and they are not plotting against Equestria. They are citizens, just as good as anyone else. They deserve your respect, not your scorn. So please, the next time you think of calling somepony a name like 'ribbontail' or 'gypsy', remember, they are just ponies like you. And words hurt. My name is Twilight Sparkle. And I am not Roani. But I care.”

It's okay to stray

The program you're watching isn't that great. But you heard the ending might be entertaining. It's one of those teen shows where the humor is surreal and sometimes dumb. But it passes the time. As you watch the notice for ads come up, you see the seal of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs, not one that comes up all that often, oddly enough.

Appleoosa appears in the focus of the camera. A standard frontier town. Pleasant enough to look at, with nice buildings kept up to the highest of Equestrian standards. The streets are dirt, but well-trampled, packed into something like a normal, solid road. Ponies pass in the background, in stetsons and bonnets, gingham dresses or vests as appropriate. Also in the background are buffalo, both cows and bulls, wearing their traditional feathered headbands.

The focus swings over to a beefy and powerful light-brown buffalo, with three feathers in his headband. He is casually strolling down the street, looking perfectly content with himself. That seems to be due to the unicorn mare snuggled up against his side. She is a dusty orange color, with a soft and puffy mane of dark lavender. She's showing off the greenest eyes anywhere in Equestria, and they are focused on that big lug of a buffalo. Oddly for a pony, she is also wearing a headband, with a single feather in it. And both of them are wearing matching gold rings on their left forelegs.

Across the screen, text flashes, imposed over the peaceful scene. “In Equestria and the near lands, 15% of all relationships lasting more than a year are between those of different species. The largest increase in interspecies relations are between ponies and Diamond Dogs, Changelings and buffalo.”

The scene abruptly cuts to the inside of a studio, featuring the mare. She is as elegant as she was strolling down the street, looking calm and professional. “Hello Equestria. My name is Clarion Bell, of the Hoofington Bells. Heiress, hobby farmer, Appleoosan citizen, and wife of the biggest bundle of muscle and heart that there could ever be. It wasn't easy, because our town used to be very separated. After one wedding, nopony wanted to be the next to blink.

“And that was wrong. Very wrong. We shouldn't have just assumed things would be fine with one token relationship. It never is. I did terrible things. I made him terribly sad. To love and hide is cowardice. It is only really love if you are out and open with it. It used to be I dreamed of screaming his name from the rooftops. Now I don't need to; walking down the street with him is enough.”

The scene shifts. It's the same studio but now you're looking at the buffalo bull. Seated before the camera in the studio his great, muscular bulk looks less grandly intimidating and more... awkwardly charming, like a good-natured goofball in a romantic comedy. “Hey there, uh... everyone, I guess. My name's Howling Gale-Bell. I'm a stampeder for Chief Thunderhooves, and assistant resource manager. Which means I check plants out. Don't tell the chief I said that.”

He awkwardly rubs his head and gives a pitch-perfect nice-guy smile. “So yea... I'm married to THE best mare in all of Equestria. I don't even need to go looking around to say that. She was the only mare that said hello to me, and then MORE than said hello, if you know what I mean. Don't tell my wife I said that. It was so hard keeping it a secret. I wanted to tell everyone about it. But that would have hurt her. And she was hurting enough just keeping us a secret. It's never right, hiding who you love. Especially if the only reason is they're not your species. That doesn't matter. What matters is you love them.”

Another quick cut and both are sitting in the studio, cuddled up good and close. Clarion speaks first, “Once more, I am Clarion Bell...”

Howling comes in right after, “And I'm Howling Gale-Bell...”

Then both at once, “And we say, it's okay to stray.”

The camera loses focus as text comes up on the screen. “It's Okay to Stray from your own species. For more information about interspecies love, hybrids and hybridization, or to report cases of discrimination, contact the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs.” A phone number and address come up as the spot ends.

You're flipping now. The guide was not promising and that pessimism is borne out by the dearth of programming capable of catching your attention. So many channels, even imports from the Griffin Kingdom, the United Colonies and the Grand Veldt. And there's nothing. As you flip by one station you catch the tail end of the seals of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs. That gets you to stop.

Rather than an external shot, this spot is inside of a home. It's very bright, the walls a lovely eggshell color, fully capable of reflecting the abundant sunlight streaming in from the many open windows. Judging by the view from out of them the place is either a small home or large apartment in Canterlot, at least fourth terrace, if not third. It is a standard living room, a dark wood floor mostly covered by a large and fluffy white rug. A glass coffee table forms the centerpiece of the room, which is also filled with nick-knack shelves, two sofas, an entertainment center, and a large, overstuffed chair, suitable for two if they snuggle.

Into the scene sashays a humming figure. She is all black, and slightly shiny, shaped like a pony with a curved, smooth horn, green wings, a green midsection and holes through all four legs and her wings. A Changeling. She's definitely female, judging by the subtle bodily hints that have been pointed out in the acclimation classes and in a few educational programs.

She's using her magic to swish a feather duster around, brushing dust off of the little figurines on the shelves and from the books artfully scattered over the coffee table. Suddenly, a shadow looms and tackles her, pinning her to the couch. He's a pegasus. All white, coat, mane and tail. He looks like a royal guard, but his mane is much less “buzz cut” than the standard. And he's no albino, his eyes are a soft brown color. He's snuggling with the Changeling, and kissing her up and down the neck, making her giggle loudly.

Text comes up over the scene. “According to the most recent figures, 10% of Equestrian citizens are hybrids of some variety, primarily hippogriffs, mules and zonies.”

The two are next seen in the studio, pegasus kissing the giggling Changeling under her ear-analogues over and over, while she tries to speak. “Hello, I am Ah! Ha ha ha! S-stop that, honey... I am Marianne, swarm defector and first recognized naturalized Changeling. I was a captive in the dungeons of Canterlot, an enemy, a beast, a monster. But not to Thunder.

“He saw straight through to me. The real me. He could see that the holes were in my legs and in my wings, not in my heart. He opened himself up to me and I to him. We didn't hide when our love created Ponylings. Our Ponylings. The first Ponylings, and certainly not the last.”

The pegasus finally manages to pull himself away from his wife's neck, looking into the camera with a grin. “My name is Thunder Crash, retired Miles Scutum of the Celestian corps, internal palace security, dungeon detail. I sure got lucky. The one captive of the invasion. I was down there, day after day. Getting to know her. Getting closer and closer. Learning she was just like us. These days I'd probably be guarding some stuck-up Randomoid. Guess I retired just in time.

“She really reached me. She told me what it was like for her in the swarm. Workers and drones are not allowed to be together. Under pain of death. And all she ever wanted to be was a mother. She wasn't so different from ponies. I saw it. And I was so lucky that she saw something in me, and let me be the father of her Ponylings. OUR Ponylings.”

Both of them look lovingly at each other, blue eyes to brown. “We say, it's okay to stray.”

As before, the screen blurs out to show the address and phone number, along with the note about what they are for.

News. News. News. Happy stories about fashion shows and pet expos, cut with some of the latest news of serious issues, such as the most recent arrests of still-active Randomoid sympathizers, including an actual Vault's Vale employee. Very intense and stirring stuff. The report ends with a bit of cheering for Equestria, and segues into the seals of the sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs.

The setting is unquestionably Canterlot. Second terrace, without a doubt. The beautiful ponies are very much out in force. They walk along with their snouts in the air and smug smiles on their faces. That all changes in an instant, a slight grimace crossing the visible features as a new couple comes along.

This one is a unicorn and a Diamond Dog. And not just a Diamond Dog, a Dig Dog, the biggest of the breeds. He lacks his helmet, showing off his jowly face and warm, kind eyes. He wears a tailored outfit, a perfectly-fitted white shirt and single-breasted jacket. His companion is a silvery-gray unicorn with pale-pink mane and tail, silver streaks shot through them. Her body is long and tall, though she is a bit thick in the body, both from the new style of natural heaviness, and from an obvious pregnancy. She wears an ornately jeweled saddle and a large, lovely hat that compliments her mane.

The Dog has his hand resting on the pony's back, occasionally sliding it down to stroke his huge, manicured fingers over the swollen belly. The motion brings a deep blush to the mare's face, and a tittering giggle. The other ponies around seem to have different takes on that. Some simply turn and walk away, some try to hide scowls after noticing the presence of the camera, and a very small number actually smile, including one well-dressed colt, who is quickly shuffled off by his parents.

Text comes up over the scene. “Hybrids, and interspecies daters, occupy all levels of pony society and are, in most respects, seamlessly integrated into their respective social strata.”

In the studio, the two figures look forward into the camera. The Diamond Dog sits on a provided divan, with his wife spreading across his lap in a posture that comfortably exposes her pregnant belly, which is being gently massaged by the Dog. She looks appropriately relaxed and comfortable, both with the situation and with being the direct focus of the camera. By way of contrast, the Dog looks completely lost, only his massaging keeping him mostly calm.

“Mmmmy apologies, but this massage is most delicious. Yes... our Diamond Ponies are mobile at this point in their development. Twins. But I digress... my name is Platinum Shine, model, socialite and VERY pleased mother of one. Soon to be three. I met my darling Basalt when he was up in Canterlot trying to find a buyer for his amazing crystal formation.

“He met only scorn and attempts at cheating him out of his glorious treasure. He truly opened my eyes to how base and coarse my fellow upper-terrace ponies are. After taking him in to warm him and give him a comfortable space, he offered to give me his wonder. If you wish to see it, it is right now in the Canterlot Institution of Natural Science, in the Museum of Thaumato-Geology. You may also find photographs of its successful prize-winning showing at the Ponyville County Fair. If you see it you will know a fraction of the beauty of his soul.”

Basalt was silent, looking into the camera like a deer caught in bright lights. Eventually he began talking, with a quaver in his voice. “N-name is Basalt. Used to dig. And sell gems. Then found beautiful gems in so many colors. Tried to sell to those in Canterlot. Make bits, have good house. Got better than bits, got beautiful wife. Platinum good to me. So good for big, ugly Dog.”

A silvery-gray aura envelopes Basalt's head, gentle strokes seen over his fur. “My handsome Dog. My wonderful powerful husband...” She smiled to the camera and said, “We're happily wedded and so much in love and we say... Basalt dear?”

Both spoke, their discordant voices soundly surprisingly good together, “It's okay to stray.”

The scene goes out of focus, to show the appropriate information as before.

There's been a marathon all day, movies of popular plays from the time of Princess Luna, from the classic black and white versions to the more modern productions, including the ones with avant-garde sensibilities in their design, though the text had been preserved. Over the past few years such program marathons have come to be a herald of a fast-approaching Nightmare Night. An emerging tradition.

As one concludes, there a shot of the seals of the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs and the Royal Pony Sisters, which fades into the background of the studio. At the center of the studio, sitting in a chair, is a slightly-elongated, approximately-pony-sized purple and green dragon. Spike, strongly associated with the Elements of Harmony. He sits stroking a mustache, with a pint-sized phoenix sitting on his shoulder.

“Ladies... hi there, my name is Spike Sparkle. Or Spike Sparkle-Pie I guess. She's pretty much my mom, I always thought of her like that. She hatched me and all. And she's married now, so Pinkie's my other mom. Woah... dude that's kinda creepy. She's all kinds of strange...”

“That's my wife you're talking about!” An angry voice cries out from off-camera. “AND your new mom! Have some respect. Just for that, no more mustache for a week, Romeo.”

“Wait!” With a violet flash the mustache vanished, leaving Spike's lip bare. “Man... fine. Anyway, hey Equestria. I'm here to say, I'm available...”

“Spike...”

“What I mean is, like many out there I, too, feel in my heart that I could truly fall in love with and make a life with someone not of my own species. And yes... maybe because of my being a dragon it might not be possible to actually have children with them. But hey, we can adopt. I'd love them all the same. So even if there aren't ideal solutions, there's still something. So... I'm Spike Sparkle-Pie, this is Peewee, and I say, it's okay to stray.” He smiles to the camera and gives a thumbs up. Then holds it by his head. “Seriously, call me. Mares, your perfect date is here...”

“Spike!”

The scene goes unfocused, to show the address and phone number. That hides the action in the background which seems to involve a chase and the wavering aura of magic being tossed around.

Cuddle up!

You never thought it was possible, but... a ten-part documentary about the history of the Griffin Kingdom has actually been very fascinating. They aren't even squeamish about the strife and fuss early in their history, including the complete obliteration of the Haast clan after the failed rebellion of Leoudicca Haast against the alliance headed by the griffin that would eventually become the High King Padraigh O'Bald the first.

They cut to the commercials after showing the statue to Leoudicca at the highest crest in the Kingdom. It's an interesting segue, moving from that to the seal of the Royal Pony Sisters and the seal of the Ministry of Community Relations.

The scene appears to be some kind of coffee shop or pastry-heavy restaurant. It has a bit of an unusual design, almost seeming to be divided in half. On one side it brings to mind some sort of Percheron cafe, with tablecloths on the tables, lace on many things, and a shelf of interesting little nick-knacks. On the other side, bare tables, and lithographs of famous nostalgic images, like a more classical center-Equestrian diner. At the front, cases filled with all kinds of pastries, from the fancy Percheron varieties to much more ordinary donuts. Over the counter, glowing above the line of coffee machines and a cappuccino maker, is the sign announcing the name of the place. 'Joe et Gustave's Patisserie et Cafe.'

Gustave LeGrand, Black-Verreaux griffin, steps out from the back, stroking his fine, curled mustache and smiling at the camera. He offers a small plate with a mille-feuille slice on it, and a small bowl of confiture de lait beside it. “Bonjour, mes amis! My name is Gustave LeGrand. Joe! Joe! Attends! We have new arrivals, mon amour.”

Out from the back emerges Donut Joe LeGrand. He and Gustave have been on the Cooking Channel fairly often, so the names are familiar. He is levitating a platter of fresh-fried donuts, glazed and chocolate frosted varieties. “Here I am, Gussy. Hey all, name's Donut Joe LeGrand. And I brought a plate of fresh donuts. Prize-winning! Won at that... cooking show contest. I don't remember. The one with that angry Wedgetail yelling his head off.”

“Ah, oui, oui. Gordon mac Gordon O'Wedgetail. Coo la la! He is zee fury in zee kitchen. But it proves just how good you really are. Ma petit plump brioche is tres bon.” Gustave gives a laugh and settles the plate down on the counter and turns to the cappuccino machine. “Zee time has come for some cappuccino. Or some espresso, a leetle demitasse to start zee day. Et mille-feuille. Zee petit déjeuner du champions, non?”

“What? Nah, nah, Gussy!” Joe sets the platter down, and uses his magical aura to take up a full-sized, classic coffee cup. “Ya gotta have a big ol' mug of coffee, with too many sugars and a little milk. And ya can't forget a nice, frosted donut!”

“Ha! Cafe au lait and a donut is no match for a foamy cappuccino and zee flaky layers of mille-feuille.” Gustave puffs his feathers up proudly and strokes his mustache.

“Why not both? Coffee and a... 'meel fweey' or maybe...”

“Cappuccino et one of your delicious donuts.” Gustave looks on Joe with more feather puffing and a smile. “Clever... No wonder I married you.”

Joe stands, looking proud, even a trifle smug. “Hey, I'm only half a stallion without you, Gussy. That's what a marriage is. That and a giant cake! That was a big job. But I wanted EVERYPONY to see just how I felt about ya.”

“Oh Joe... zee same for me. And in Equestria, we have no need for fear.” Gustave snuggles up against Joe, rubbing his beak to the stallion's cheek.

“Yea... no need to fear.” Joe lifts a foreleg and brings Gustave in for a tight, warm hug. “So remember!” Suddenly he cries out and looks to the camera.

“If zis is how you feel, do not be afraid to say so, and...”

“Cuddle up!” The cry is delivered by both of them, the scene pausing to allow information to pass on the screen, a special address and phone number for part of the Ministry of Community Relations.

A voice speaks over the frozen scene. “This message brought to you by the Cuddle Up! Campaign, a joint venture of the Royal Sisters and the Ministry of Community Relations. For information about starting a conversation, as a Colt Cuddler or with one, please write to the address below or call the provided number.”

It's a pretty good match so far. You bought the optional sports package for all the available inter-terrace jousting matches from Canterlot. Today is the fifth terrace Ironshods against the fourth terrace Hammers. As usual, the veteran starter Battering Ram has been leading the Ironshods with a mighty showing. A most impressive mare indeed.

The game goes to commercial, though not to an ad for sports drinks. It instead shows the seals of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Community Relations.

This time the scene is the royal palace. Deep inside the grand edifice, something seen often enough in specials and documentaries. This is not one of the more glamorous areas of the palace, but it still looks nice. It seems to be some kind of... small apartment. Or the living room of one, anyhow, with two doors leading off to other rooms. The space is fairly open, with a single, comfortable, two-pony couch, a large television, some electronics, and on one wall, a small kitchenette-like space, though not having more than an electronic kettle, and a microwave.

One door opens and unleashes a small cloud of steam as well as a white pegasus. Like most of the pegasus guards, he is all white, but he is a very slim, graceful figure, not the usual bulky fighter-type normally associated with royal guards. He notices the camera and gives a little gasp, a red blush springing up across his features. “Oh! Honey! We have guests.” He stands up straight and tries to look appropriately official. “Hello. My name is Miles Scutum Rosy Cranberry, Celestian corps, currently assigned to the day watch at the front gate and special events such as the Grand Galloping Gala.” He gives a short bow then looks to the closed door. “Honey!”

“I know, I know, guests.” The other door opens, to reveal a much more 'royal guard'-looking royal guard. Another white pegasus, but this one much meatier, a muscular, tall presence. He is also in possession of a set of piercing, entrancing golden eyes. He looks annoyed, but not at the smaller male. “Welcome to our home. I am Cavalier Golden Stare. Like my husband, I am a member of the Celestian corps, and I am always assigned to work with him. Previously I did squad organizing and leading, along with controlling sorties when needed. But now I am the head front gate guard, assisted by Rosy. It is a great honor from her majesty, and I am greatly appreciative.”

“Yea... as you can see, Golden wasn't really enthused about doing this spot...”

“It is not our job to do advertising or public awareness things. That is not our assignment. That is why Celestia invented Public Relations. Some Scutarius that washed out of basic guard training can earn a few bits talking to newspapers and such things. We are guards, we work.” Golden is over in the kitchenette area, using the electric kettle to heat water while measuring out coffee into a strainer.

“This is an honor, honey! Celestia herself asked us to do this! You know we are... uniquely qualified for it.” Rosy blushes even more deeply, and gives his husband a soft nuzzle. “You know they have free coffee in the mess hall.”

“But I like my own blend, which does not come out of a giant kettle.” He pours the hot water over the strainer and sighs. “I know. The highest ranked married Colt Cuddler in the service. It is important to show the Principality that we are ordinary folk, who work hard just like any other pony.” Golden adds milk to his coffee, a small amount of sugar, and a dash of cinnamon before giving it a stir. “But really... this should be unnecessary. This is an enlightened age.”

“There are still some places where there are problems. It's important that ponies know they are not alone, that they SHOULD be open, and that Colt Cuddlers are just ordinary ponies.” Rosy leans in, grabbing a quick sip from his husband's mug and smiling for the camera.

“Right as ever dear, right as ever...” Golden gives the mug a sip and sets it aside. “So remember, the law of the land is on your side...”

“And you should say what you feel. You're not alone. Don't ever, ever be afraid to...”

“Cuddle up!” Both males call out, Rosy in a high and enthusiastic tone, Golden in a deeper, sonorous one with a touch of mirth.

As before, the scene freezes, providing a space for the placement of an address, a phone number and text which is rapidly read off.

Late night. Three things primarily come on so late. Harlequine-like spicy programs, the better ones on the pay stations; reruns of classics and new fare; and, ever since the fuller integration of Luna, news, talk shows, and everything else usually reserved for the midday. Tonight, you opt for a late-night talk show.

The host is unnaturally bubbly. Never mind the hour, she is just CHEERY, and always seems to be dancing. At least it's an unobtrusive little distraction. She has promised to have on some popular singer when she returns from the ad break. The seals of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Community Relations come up as the show cuts.

The scene is a backyard, somewhere nice. From the view of Canterlot mountain, probably Ponyville. It's not like any ordinary back yard, though. Past a small grassy space is a tennis court, regulation sized, enclosed in a net. Inside is a pale cream earth pony with a brown mane, and a thick mustache that curled down and then up to attach to his sideburns. He had a tennis racquet in his teeth and was swatting at balls pitched at him by the magical aura of a unicorn.

That unicorn is a light blue in color, with a mane in two tones, white and a pale ice blue. He lobs the balls at various angles and speeds. “When did the mechanic say he was going to be done repairing the machine?”

“Just a few days. Something about the belt. Not surprising. I've been practicing a lot.” The earth pony answers after returning a few lobs. He sets the racquet down and turns to the camera. “Hi there, I'm Ace, local champion in the tennis circuit, with a few tournament wins up in Canterlot. That very, very kind and generous fellow is my coltfriend.”

The unicorn gathers up the balls and piles them in a basket. “Hello there. My name... my name is... Pokey Pierce, of Ponyville. And Gaskinwich.” Pokey blushes deeply and tries to hide his face behind the basket.

“Come on, Pokey, that's what this is for. You can feel free. Nopony can say anything about it. The law is very clear.”

“The law never met my mom!” Pokey looks up from behind the basket and then ducks back down.

Ace rolls his eyes for the camera and chuckles a bit. “Well, at least tell the nice folks what it is you do in Ponyville.”

“I do engraving, carving, precision puncturing for building and industrial purposes and make lace out of whole fabric.” Pokey shows his horn and lets a magic shimmer run along it.

“Come on, you promised. There's no need to be afraid of what might get said. You love me. Don't you?” Ace pulls a big-eyed face that the camera catches perfectly.

“Hey! No fair!” Pokey pops up from behind the basket and trots over to nuzzle at Ace's head, nearly dislodging the tennis pony's headband. “Don't play the 'love' card on me like that. It's not about love. It's because... I want my parents to keep thinking good things about me.”

“And they can! They just need to, you know, pull their heads out of the Discordian era. Colt Cuddlers are perfectly fine folks. I mean, I'm a sports star and you're an artist and industrial guy. That's something to be proud of.”

Pokey blushes, deeply. “My parents might see this! I can't believe you said that, and that I'm agreeing to this... But fine. Fine! For you, I'll be out in the open.” Pokey sucks in a breath and looks right into the camera, looking incredibly awkward and out of place. “I'm Pokey Pierce, I'm a Colt Cuddler and I don't just live with Ace to share the cost of a house, I do it because I love him.”

“That wasn't so bad, was it?”

“It kind of was.” Pokey laughs and noses under Ace's chin. “But I'm glad I did it. Very glad. Better get used to me complaining about my parents. I'm going to be here with you for a long, long time.”

“Promise?” Ace laughs a bit and kisses the top of Pokey's head. “Even if family can be a pain, and they don't always fit in with our new social structure, you have to be you and say what you feel.”

“Get past the uncertainty, the fear, the worry about what others will say. Find some support, some security and some cheer and...”

“Cuddle up!”

The scene freezes over their happy faces, then the information from the prior spots comes up and the voice reads it off in rapid fire once more.

The New Citizens

An early evening bit of television enjoyment. It's the sort of time when lots of Equestrians are tuned in, for the dramas and comedies. Your own selection is one of the light, multi-species comedies, with the mix of absurdity and cerebral humor. As ever, the dysfunctionally functional characters have managed to move their lives forward, with a lot of errors and idiocy along the way.

The credits conclude and sweep straight into the seals of the Royal Pony Sisters as the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs. Then it shows the words, “An important message from the minister of Inter-Sentient Affairs.”

The scene is a very nice office. The marble and gold in the background is very Canterlot, as are the touches that look like a modernized Equusian style. The only visible things are frosted glass windows, the top of a dark wood desk stacked with papers, and a fairly portly hippogriff. He has a serious look on his booted eagle face, but it still doesn't take away from his avuncular aura. Beneath him is the small blurb, Peppermint Pinfeather, Minister of Inter-Sentient Affairs.

“Hello to you, united citizens of Equestria and to all outlying lands which this program can reach. As you are aware, in the past decade new sentient species have come to clearer and more direct light. I mean, of course, Diamond Dogs and Changelings. They have become very apparent in the minds of Equestrians, through media depiction and educational supplements to try and normalize their presence.

“This is how it has always been, and indeed, the way it should be. What is the easiest way to make an utter stranger familiar? Normalizing them by making their presence ubiquitous. They appear all over, so there are no whispered mysteries and rumor-filled uncertainties. One can hardly hate a being with whom they are familiar. Like living among many different types of ponies makes disliking them all the harder, and makes it impossible to believe any strange or negative rumors.

“Admirably, the attitudes have been changed, by and large. From complete ignorance of their existence, quickly through fear and derision and into acceptance. And hybridization. Marriages, crossbreeds, all the hallmarks of accepted citizens in a stable, peaceful and harmonious society. It warms the heart and fills the soul with joy and pleasure.

“But still... there are pockets. Small pockets, true. But pockets of uncertainty, even backward-thinking revulsion and mistrust. This is a true tragedy. A terrible thing to happen in a wonderful place such as Equestria. But there is no denying it. It becomes our duty, as members of a ministry designed to eliminate conflicts and ensure peace and harmony, to change those negative minds. Some minds will never change, such as Randomoids. But I like to believe the best out of all sentient species. That we all can learn to love and accept all our citizens and all new species.

“I don't expect anyone to simply roll over and do as I say. I want you to see that, yes, it is entirely possible for these new species to become well-integrated and stable members of our society. You will see, perhaps, a familiar face, and also a very secret figure, given government dispensation to speak. For the good of the Principality, some secrets can be waived.

“I am Peppermint Pinfeather, Minister of Inter-Sentient Affairs, and I thank you for listening.”

The scene cuts to an interior space, a very bright interior space. Eggshell white walls in a place that gets lots of sunlight. It looks really nice, a nicely appointed upper middle class or even lower upper class home space, either an apartment or a house. The view from out of the numerous windows looks like Canterlot, obviously in a nice terrace. The furniture looks very nice, the collection of couches, shelves and electronics appropriate for a family.

The camera comes around to the overstuffed chair, the kind that can seat two, if they cuddle up nice and close. At present it houses only one occupant, a female Changeling, lounging comfortably on her belly. She regards the camera with a slight smile, and flutters her blue eyes.

“Hello there. My name is Marianne. Marianne Crash. I realize the last time I was asked to make one of these I left off my married name. It's strange, because I'm proud of that, as proud as I am of my beautiful Ponylings. But some things are just distracting. Exciting, in a way. For some poor worker, who never knew much more than basic education and a certain, repetitive future, all of this government activity is very unusual and unexpected.

“As a worker I was only ever expected to harvest love, and return. I had no aspirations. None were ever seen as realistic. I could never breed, ever. I was restricted, under pain of death. But I wanted it. I wanted it so badly. It was a drive in me, which I pushed down and away. It was a distraction to my mission. A mission that failed. And I am ever so grateful to Princess Cadence and her husband for making it fail.

“I was captured immediately afterward, the only one still inside of the palace. It was just a fluke of location. I hit a wall and didn't slide off to a window or door like the others. The captured me, chained me and threw me in the dungeon after a speech by Celestia about invasion and love. It was... oddly touching. She acted like an upset parent, disappointed in a wayward child. I learned about that in my lessons about how pony culture works. But I had never known a parent that cared enough to be that upset. Our lives were hard, and very unkind. It is no wonder we cannot make our own love there. But here, in Equestia, there is love everywhere. It is so wonderful, spilling over and permeating every inch.

“With my capture, you learned about us. With our defeat, we learned about you. This power in love and togetherness. So much stronger and more wonderful than the power of a swarm. As you later found, almost all of us snuck back to your lands, to surrender to you. When your enemies are defeated they become your friends. There is peace and plenty here, food for our stomachs and love for the organ that has not been given an official name yet. The second stomach. And love does not go away when it is given. It grows. As long as we have peace, we will never want for love.

“Grows... your scientists were so interested when my love combined with my guard's love and created our first twins. I went from anonymous captive, to strange celebrity. An... oddity, I suppose. The looks I got hurt so badly. The looks my husband got were worse. He was so strong... we never let it affect us. We lived under scrutiny, to make sure there wouldn't be any harm to me and that our children would be born fertile. And I found out later that doctors had advised not trying to breed with Changelings before the results came in. Equestria held its breath for us. Because you are, in the end, a place of love, and forgiveness.

“No matter how we look, when we do not look like you, we were accepted. We should be very welcome. We nurture love, support society and stable communities. Love is so much more abundant when there is peace and plenty. It is in our interest to be empathetic and to keep the nation strong. We are model citizens, because we know it is best that this land remain strong. Now that we know what real love is, we never want anything else. Now that we know that kindness is greater than fear, and freedom better than rigid obedience, we want only the same thing as all of you. We want to be here, in peace.

“Please... anyone out there that still does not like or trust us... look to your neighbors, your friends, the government. They won. The swarm was utterly defeated. Any forgiveness should speak well of us. And all we want is to be invisible in our own chitin. We want to melt into the background, no more special than a donkey or a griffin. Or even no more noticeable than a pegasus or unicorn might be to an earth pony. So integrated, so normal, we vanish while being here. Surely, that is not too much?

“Again, I am Marianne Crash. Wife, mother, homebody 'ling, and for the period of my pregnancy, political symbol. Today, at the behest of the government, I was the face and voice of Changelings of Equestria. Thank you for listening.”

The scene changes very abruptly, from the bright Canterlot home to a dark forest. The professional craft of lighting does what it can, but only so much can be done with an off-screen fire shining on a scene in a deep forest at night. Even night vision filters only go so far, but it is sufficient.

What it shows is a Diamond Dog, a female. She is a member of one of the middle-sized breeds, the kind whose male version lacks jowls. She wears light amounts of makeup, enough to enhance her lashes and sallow eyes, and give her lips some definition. On her upper body is a collar with a green gem, as well as a bark brown cloak, while on her lower body is a pair of brown trousers. Affixed to her cloak is a large, silver badge in the shape of a crescent moon, as well as several medals, including a large eight-pointed silver star with a diamond crescent moon in the center of it. She is standing up straight and proud, a proper constable stance.

She throws her right hand across her chest in a standard salute and lifts her head slightly towards the camera. When she speaks her voice is a high-toned, raspy kind associated with Diamond Dogs, “Hello Equestria. Name is Emerald Facet. Constable Emerald Facet of Nightwatch. I am married to strong, handsome pony, also Constable. We have many beautiful, strong puppies. Diamond Ponies cared for in nearest town. Am proud to be with my handsome pony, and proud to be in Equestria.

“I protect Equestria, from dangerous things. Could be digging. Parents would like me to dig. Bah! More to life than digging. No matter! Do many secret things. Must work in dark, keep close to others, fight dangerous things. Earned medals for being strong Dog. Cannot tell things I did. Most proud of biggest; husband admitted he loved me when I got it. Helped Equestria much AND got my pony. Is memory of happy time.

“Know that some ponies do not like Diamond Dogs. Very few, yes. Very, very few. Is good, says good things about land. Do not get bad looks when I am with husband, ponies say nice things about puppies. Understand why some do not trust. Dogs are very new and did not start out friends. Things were very hard. Had to learn more, change some, show we are friendly.

“Dogs joined schools, taught about gems, showed how society worked. Taught ponies many things, learned things too. Changed how were organized, became United Colonies and brought in technology to be better. Let ponies and others live in colonies if they wish, made cities on surface, and went to live with ponies. Worked with you, learned with you, loved you.

“Now we are here, working hard, your neighbors and part of families. Not enemies, not strangers. Part of Equestria. And many Dogs like me. Work as Constables. Prove we are brave and strong, and protect country from real bad things. If country is strong, we are strong. Can keep having nice things, can have peace, and those like me can protect pony families. We are stronger as family. Protect more, care more, do more. Would do anything to protect my puppies and my husband. Will do anything to protect you. You are family now. This my home now too.

“Not have to trust me, not have to believe me. I know some will not. But please remember, Dogs are here now, and want to help you. Know I will be loyal to Equestria, for husband and puppies. Thank you for listening. I am Constable Emerald Facet. Will protect you from things in the night. Thank you.”

The screen cuts to the seals seen at the beginning of the spot, with a voice saying, “This has been an important message from the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs, prepared under the auspices of and with full personal approval by the Royal Pony Sisters.

Afterschool Special: Call of the No-Cutie

There's no shame in watching programming for foals. A lot of it is actually rather cerebral with a good dose of consideration. There's nothing like a cold carrot soda, some nachos and learning vital life lessons about getting along with others from talking bears. It's not that odd, seeing bears talk; they look somewhat intelligent normally.

The program ends and the credits come by, but they are pushed aside by a second screen, marked with the seal of the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs and the logo of EBO. A voice speaks over the image. “The following is a special presentation of a joint production of the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs and the Equestrian Broadcasting Organization.” The seal changes to that of the Royal Pony Sisters. “The following was personally witnessed and approved by the Royal Pony Sisters.”

The scene opens on a small town, similar to Ponyville. There are any number throughout Equestria, making them an easy setting for such a thing. The focus is on one building in particular, an unremarkable two-story family home, white exterior with a thatched roof, stiff with weatherproofing. While the camera pans around, showing a standard small front yard and modest back yard, with scattered toys indicating a child lives there, words appear on the screen. The Equestrian Broadcasting Organization presents a Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs/Equestrian Broadcasting Organization production. Created with the explicit blessing of the Royal Pony Sisters. 'Call of the No-Cutie'.

There is a blur transition, from the exterior to the inside of a bedroom. A cozy one, painted pink. Low pink chest of drawers, partially-open closet showing off a small collection of clothes, an open toy chest with a few standard toys inside. The bed is sized for a foal, with a white lace canopy over it and a ruffled pink bedskirt. The covers are pulled up over the occupant, an earth pony head the only thing protruding. Her coat color is a pale blue, while her mane is a more sky blue shade.

A male voice comes from below, “Saffy! Saffy! Time to get up! It's a school day!”

The filly stirs and scrunches her eyes in defiance, as though intending to remain in bed all day. She eventually relents, however, and throws the covers off of herself. It is then revealed that she is, in fact, a Diamond Pony, with the long arms ending in large hands, pony-designed legs and a thick torso. She leaps out of the bed and hits the floor with a soft clop, calling down, “Okay, daddy! I'm coming.”

She heads over to the closet and begins her wardrobe selection. The scene cuts through several comedic outfit choices before she settles on a sparkly pink vest and a pink skirt, as well as a sapphire-encrusted bow placed behind her left ear. After regarding herself in the mirror she skips down the stairs and into a short hallway that leads to a kitchen/dining area.

There is a pony at the table, a unicorn. He is a light blue color with a short white mane. In his magical grip he holds a newspaper and is also eating from a plate of pancakes and fresh fruit in syrup. On the other side of the room is a Diamond Dog female, a Dig Dog type in sky blue, wearing an apron and something halter-like around her waist, the construction very like the kind of maternity halters worn by nursing mares. The unicorn looks over the top of the newspaper and smiles at the Diamond Pony. “'Morning, pup. You excited for your first day in the new school?”

The filly hops up onto a chair at the table and looks down nervously. “I-I guess so. But this town is different from the other one. We're not near the Colonies and there aren't even any Diamond Dogs or Diamond Ponies I can see.”

The female Dog saunters up and sets down a plate of pancakes in front of the filly. A smiley face has been made on the top pancake with strawberry eyes, an orange mouth and plenty of syrup; unlike the stallion's plate there is also a sprinkling of blue and clear granules. “Eat up, puppy! Made favorite. Added sapphires, make your eyes pretty. Added calcite to make bones strong. Not good have too many treats.”

“Thanks mom.” Saffy smiles and starts eating the pancakes, crunching loudly on crystals. “I wish we were still back in the old town. All my friends were there.”

“Mm, yes. But, new jobs here. Father and I both work better here. Make more money. Easier take care of both you and brother. Oh, must feed puppy too.” The mother moves to a high chair holding another sky blue Diamond Pony. She can be seen in the background pulling aside the halter to allow the small puppy to nurse.

“I know you and mom needed work. But I was fine not having as many things. I liked it over there.” Saffy continues to eat, working her way through the pancakes very quickly. “It was home...”

“I know, sweetie, I know. We would have liked to have stayed on the border too. But there's more jobs for ponies further in Equestria. I mean, being a househusband is very common and traditional for ponies. But I wanted to give your mother the chance to take it easy on the job and more easily care for your brother. I not only take up the slack as far as hours go, we get ahead.” The unicorn ruffles Saffy's head. “Now get ready for school, pup. I'll be walking you there.”

The scene cuts to a shot of a standard elementary school, with several foals milling about in the playground. Saffy and her father stroll up to the front, the stallion leaning in to kiss his daughter on the forehead. “Be good, pup. I'll pick you up after school.”

“Alright, daddy.” She sighs and kisses her father back, turning then to regard the school. It is a simple school with a few rooms and tall bell tower portion. The playground is well-populated with ponies, and only pones. She notices, and the camera highlights, a grayish earth filly wearing a pair of trousers and a sweater, along with a hat that covered the whole top of her head playing with a green pegasus colt, his mane and tail a very brilliant shade of red. A pair of unicorn fillies converse together, giggling and pointing, one a light orange the other a soft yellow. Before any other foals come into focus the bell rings and all the foals start trotting into the school.

After a sigh the Diamond Pony makes her way slowly and reluctantly into the schoolhouse. As is typical for the strange geometries of Equestria the inside of the school leads to a few different small rooms. They are all at least clearly labeled and she enters the one for her grade. All conversation stops and all eyes shoot to her immediately. Among the occupants are the four foals shown from the exterior shot.

The teacher, a middle-aged unicorn mare with a blue mane and white coat, smiles and trots up to the filly. “Well hello there, dear. You must be my new student. My name is Mrs. Sloe Comb. Call me Mrs. Comb. Please come up to the front and introduce yourself.” Mrs. Sloe trots to the front and lightly taps on her desk. “Class, class, settle down. We have a new arrival to our little school. Don't be shy, dear. Come up and introduce yourself. Tell us where you are from and something about you.”

Sapphire steps up to the front of the class, lightly nibbling on her lip and fidgeting her fingers. “Umm... ummm... m-my name... my name is Sapphire Gleam. I come from Canem Cove, a mining town by the border with the United Colonies. Umm... about me... I'm a really good digger and my favorite rocks are sapphires, calcite and all the flavors of quartz.”

“Thank you, Sapphire. You may find a seat now.” Mrs. Sloe gently nudges Sapphire to a seat in the middle of the room, in the center of the stares and at the nexus of all the whispers. The worst thing is, she is between the orange and yellow unicorn fillies.

“Psst.” While Sapphire tries to focus on the introduction to the class. But the yellow unicorn is leaning in. “Psst.”

“Psst.” The orange one starts in, sincerely trying to get the Diamond Pony's attention.

Sapphire attempts to keep her focus, then it finally breaks. She looks between the two, speaking aside to the yellow filly, “Hey, what? Why are you bothering me?”

The filly whispers aside, “You're a Diamond Pony, right?”

Sapphire nods, a small, relieved smile crossing her features. “Yea, I am. I didn't know anyone here would know...”

The orange filly cuts her off, leaning in a bit more, “So, when will you get your Cutie Mark?”

Sapphire's face falls and she slumps a little in her seat. “I've been told that Diamond Ponies don't ever get a Cutie Mark. It's some magic thing.”

The two fillies look across at each other and give cruel grins. The yellow one leans in even more and whispers, “So... you're going to be a Blank Flank forever? Ha! Blank Flank!”

The orange filly joins in, whispering just loudly enough to let the surrounding foals hear but not alert the teacher, who is at the board writing things down. “Blank Flank! Blank Flank! Blank Flank!”

“Stop it!” Sapphire suddenly cries out with a growl, and finishes the threat with a few high-pitched barks. She immediately clamps her huge hands over her muzzle and blushes deeply, as all eyes come to rest on her, the teacher's included.

“I don't know how things went by the United Colonies, but we save that sort of boisterousness for recess time. Please try to keep that in mind.”

“Yes Mrs. Comb. Sorry Mrs. Comb.” Sapphire looks down to her desk, where she finds two notes that had been placed there during her embarrassing outburst. Both are on pink, scented paper, and both simply say 'Blank Flank for life.' A pained look crosses her face as the scene blurs into a transition.

The blur resolves into the front of the schoolhouse, with the bell ringing in the background. All the other foals are skipping or running off. Sapphire is dejectedly plodding along while the two unicorns pass her, both chanting, “Blank Flank, Blank Flank.”

Sapphire reaches the end of the school path alone, and finds her father there waiting for her. “Hey there, pup.” He looks down at her dejected features and softly scratches the side of his neck with a hoof. “Had that good of a first day, did you?”

“Daddy... can't we move back home to Canem Cove? M-maybe mister Stonecutter will hire you for something magical like rock sorting or lifting!”

“Saffy... this is our home now. I know it's strange and you don't have any friends but... please try to make it work. Okay? Come on, for your mom and me? It can't stay bad forever.”

Sapphire attempts to protest but only looks down and slumps her shoulders. “Alright, daddy... I'll try.”

There is a quick cut to dinner. Sapphire, her father and her mother are all sitting at the table. Her mother is also using only one hand to eat, the other cradling the small Diamond Pony pup by one uncovered teat. The dinner spread is a selection of steamed vegetables, bread, a cake and a bowl of mixed stones. Sapphire and her mother are eating from all the dishes, while the father takes only the vegetables and cake. After pulling the pup up from her midsection, Sapphire's mother asks, “So, how was school? Is fun?”

“It was... there.” Sapphire picks at her plate of gem-sprinkled greenery. She turns to her father to ask, “Daddy... are you sure Diamond Ponies can't get Cutie Marks?”

Her father sighs a bit and gives a sad look to her mother, who also gives a small sigh. “Saffy... we've been over this. I know it's very unfair. But according to the way magical biology works Diamond Ponies can't get Cutie Marks. I know fillies your age usually get them or have them but... that's just the way the world works.”

Sapphire hangs her head and pushes her plate away from her. “I'm not hungry anymore.”

“Saffy... not be sad. Not need Cutie Mark to be happy. Need be you.” Sapphire's mother reaches out to stroke her daughter's head.

The Diamond Pony leans into the pet with a smile and wag of her tail. “Thanks mommy... I'm going to my room now. We got some homework.”

“Cheer up, pup. You'll figure out there are more important things in life than moping.”

Sapphire nods her head and puts on a big, fake smile. She pushes away from the table and dashes upstairs, to her room. Her pack is open, with some books scattered around, along with papers and graphite writing sticks. She takes up some of the papers and starts to write with the stick. As she writes, a voiceover comes up. 'Cutie Marks are not possible on Diamond Ponies. Or at least that's what they say. But maybe Diamond Ponies never tried before! I'll be the first ever to do it, and it will be great! Ideas for a way to get Cutie Mark. Zipline swinging, tennis, martial arts, swimming...'

The scene ripple dissolves into an outdoor scene, with Sapphire in a dusty, flat field by some low hills, with a cheery soundtrack taking over all sound. She cracks her fingers and starts to dig, tearing through the dirt and rock, sending them flying out in all directions as she vanishes beneath the surface.

She emerges a moment later with a large load of gems and smiles at herself. Then the camera pulls back to reveal other ponies digging for gems and a sign that says, 'Public Gem Field: Pick Your Own' along with hours and prices. The camera pulls in again to show Sapphire slumping a bit and dumping the gems back into the hole before covering them up, though keeping one sapphire for herself, lightly crunching on it as she moves away.

A fast cut shows her falling through the air, tucked into a tight ball. A moment later she hits water, creating quite a huge splash and tremendous shower of water. The camera pulls back to show a pool, surrounded by soaked ponies looking rather upset, and a lifeguard pointing to a sign saying, 'No attempting to get a highdiving or splashing Cutie Mark.'

Sapphire's disappointed face is conserved in the center of the screen as the rest ripple dissolves into a different scene. The camera reveal shows she is being ushered out of a porcelain shop, carrying a cape and being followed by a very contrite-looking bull.

After another wipe she is shown running away and silently screaming as she is pursued by an almost impossibly-huge cloud of bees, which are emerging from several hives beside a sign reading, Hunang Drekkasdóttir's Meadery Apiary, volunteer harvesting colonies.

A wipe shows the inside of Sapphire's room as she stumbles in, covered in bee stings, mud, scrapes, scuffs and tree sap. She falls onto her bed, lifting herself up just enough to see that she got the sheet dirty. She rolls and eyes and grunts, “Perfect. All that and now mom's going to be mad.”

“Why be mad at precious puppy?” All of a sudden her mother is there, sitting on the bed beside her. The older female strokes the puppy over the head with a huge hand and smiles. “Got dirt on bed? No need worry. Dirty in colonies. Can always wash away dirt. Not able wash away sadness. What wrong, puppy?”

Sapphire leans in against her mother, to drink in the warmth and security of the powerful Dog. “I kept trying to earn my Cutie Mark today. It... didn't go well. I tried everything I could think of but I wasn't any good at any of them. Or I just got in trouble.”

“Diamond Ponies not get...” Her mother begins, in a sage tone.

“Cutie Marks. I know, I know.” Sapphire sighs and looks away. “Like most of the other hybrids. But it's... it's not fair.”

“Lived whole life not having Cutie Mark. Not problem. Even with ponies, they not care. Something... happen?”

Sapphire looks as if she is preparing to lie, but nods her head instead. “There are these fillies in my class. They were making fun of me for not having a Cutie Mark. And they're never gonna stop because I'm never going to have one.”

“Fillies important? Give you grades or pay salary?”

“What?”

“Fillies not give you grade, not pay bills, not important. Not let them make you sad or mad.” The large female draws her daughter in for a giant hug, nearly crushing the puppy in her strong grip.

“Ah! Ah! Mom! Too tight!” She is released and falls to the bed in a panting heap. “I know. I know... but mom... they're popular girls. And that means if they don't like me nopony will. I... I want to make friends here. And a Cutie Mark is really, really important. I know I can't get one. But I have to try, otherwise...” Sapphire cannot continue, her words lost in a snorting, snuffling sob. She buries her face in her mother's fur, body wracked with her weeping.

Mother and daughter hug tightly as the scene dissolves like water, revealing rain splattering against the windows of the school. The camera pans in and focuses through the window of Sapphire's class before changing to a camera inside the class. The board has the words, Free Play Time written on it. Mrs. Sloe Comb, with a neon orange mane rather than the blue one last seen, is behind her desk, reading a magazine for cat lovers. The rest of the class is distributed around the room reading or playing with toys in their pre-made cliques.

Sapphire is reading, a picture book about the United Colonies. She seems very wistful, occasionally touching one page or another as she turns them. Her reverie is soon interrupted by the unicorn fillies. “Look, it's the Blank Flank. And she's got a book. Of course she'd be a nerd.” The yellow one speaks first, getting in Sapphire's face.

“Yea, nerd.” The orange one giggles and pushing the book down. “You're not getting a Cutie Mark in reading. You're not getting one in anything.”

“Come on, leave me alone! I just want to read.” Sapphire seems on the verge of tears, looking down at the images of familiar figures, Dogs and ponies and Diamond Ponies like herself.

“No way, loser. Don't you get it? You're a Blank Flank and you're going to stay one forever and ever.” The yellow filly presses her face in and sneers rudely.

“That's enough! Quit picking on the new kid.” The green pegasus colt with the red mane and tail is up in the yellow unicorn's face, glaring hotly at her.

“Yea, she can't help not having a Cutie Mark, it's just her nature!” The grayish earth filly is preemptively interrupting a response by the orange unicorn, her natural strength pushing the unicorn quite significantly.

“What does it matter to you? You always just kept quiet. You weren't worth bothering.” The yellow unicorn pushes back against the colt, snorting sharply.

“Because she's just like us.” The filly pulls off her hat, letting huge, soft ears drop down. Then she pulls up one sleeve to show a knobby knees. She is, in fact, a pony-looking mule. “She's a hybrid.”

“But... but you're not one! You even got your Cutie Mark.” After gaping in disbelief at the mule, the yellow unicorn peers at the collection of sweets on the pegasus' flank.

“As my dad explained it do me, my 'seeming' got a Cutie Mark. It's the only one I can ever have, on almost the only body I'll ever have.” With a green flash the pegasus changes. His form is chitinous, his shell the color of his former coat, while the membranous mane and tail analogues are the color of his mane and tail. His eyes are a single, solid color, the shade of his disguise's irises. He possesses both wings and a horn, though he lacks the holes through his legs of full-blooded Changelings. “Ponylings don't get Cutie Marks on our real bodies.”

“What!?” Both unicorns express their disbelief, the yellow one giving a dismissive hoof-wave. “Fine. So you're all Blank Flanks! Freaks!”

“We're not freaks. This is how we were born.” The Ponyling resumed his seeming and shook his head. “It's no stranger than being born a pony. We don't get Cutie Marks, you can't change your body. We all do different things.”

“There's nothing wrong with being a hybrid that can't get a Cutie Mark. Only zonies can and that's fine. But buffaponies, mules, Diamond Ponies, Ponylings and hippogriffs are still just regular folks.” The mule comes in to press close to Sapphire and the Ponyling, presenting a united front.

“Yea...” Sapphire looks up, eyes dry, and a bit of confidence in her voice. “Yea! Back in Canem Cove we had plenty of Diamond Ponies and mules. And they never got made fun of because they were ordinary. I'm an ordinary Diamond Pony. And not having a Cutie Mark is normal! So get out of here. You're not making me feel bad anymore.”

The fillies look prepared to unleash further abuse, when a shadow looms over them. The camera pans up to show a distinctly unhappy Mrs. Comb. “I think it's time you girls had a serious detention, and that I had a serious talk with your parents. And I am unanimous in that.”

The fillies are led away, protesting, while the three hybrid foals looked to one another, the Ponyling dropping his disguise again, and the mule removing her sweater and trousers to reveal her knobby knees and a tail that is bare save for the tip. No one speaks for a while, until Sapphire asks, “So... what are your names?”

The mule taps her chest softly and lifts her ears in cheerfulness. “My name is Molly O'Lea.”

“And I'm Sweets. My parents opted for the single name.” The Ponyling buzzes his wings and smiles.

“It's great to meet you two. I was worried when I didn't see any Diamond Dogs or Diamond Ponies here. But it's not so bad if there are at least other hybrids here. And hybrids without Cutie Marks.”

“We really did want to help you but... we've been hiding ourselves this long.” Molly blushes and looks down.

“There's three of us now. That can take us places.” Sweets buzzes his wings cheerfully. “We can watch each other's flanks and be friends. We all understand what it means to be hybrids.”

“It'll be nice to have friends again! You can come to my house and meet my parents and snack on gems!” The other foals give Sapphire and incredulous look, making her blush. “W-well... maybe that's something just for me. But you can still visit.”

All the foals laugh as the scene freezes and blurs, with the credits playing over it along with a cheerful pop song.

Ad Spots

Front and center on the screen is Rainbow Dash, striking her best 'awesome' pose and giving the camera a wink. "Hey there, Equestria, 'sup? I'm Rainbow Dash.” She pulls another pose that looks like she is flexing her wings. “Best Young Flier several years in a row, performer of the Sonic Rainboom and awesomest pony in all Equestria.”

From off screen comes a loud, questioning, countryfied voice, "Yer what?!"

"Co-awesomest pony in Equestria.” Dash says quickly, giving a strained smiled. “Co-awesomest pony in Equestria. Seriously. I mean it, honey.” She wipes at her brow and then turns to the camera again. “You should totally drink Sweet Apple Acres cider, even though they never have any for me and that sucks." Dash sticks her tongue out and blows a raspberry.

Applejack's voice takes on a very threatening tone, with the slightest trace of mirth at the bottom of it. "Ah'm gettin' mah rope, missy."

Dash clicks her tongue and gives a wink to the camera. "Promise?" She then zips off camera in the direction of AJ's voice.

The camera pans up to a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres Cider that had been behind Dash. It is the new label design, the slick, curved bottle contrasting with the very old-time lettering and simple agrarian iconography. A neutral-sounding male voice speaks over a slow rotation around the bottle. “Sweet Apple Acres genuine Ponyville apple cider. Now available for a limited time in major markets.”

A small hospital's urgent care is seen, with two stallions sitting on pads near the nurse's station. One is a blue-and-yellow earth pony and the other is a green-and-red unicorn in a pair of glasses. They look one another over and give simultaneous sheepish smirks. The camera turns and rises slightly to show the backs of both males. They are seen to have numerous shallow but raw claw marks on their backs running across and down.

The unicorn motions to the earth pony's back, and he responds, “Diamond Dog. Co-worker. Think it's goin' places.”

The unicorn nods a bit and adjusts his glasses with his horn. “Griffiness. We've been seeing each other for some time but this was the first time we...”

“Oh yea. Same here.”

There is a moment of silence between the two, when the unicorn says, “Protection?”

“Protection.” The earth pony gives a hoof-bump to the other stallion and laughs.

The scene blurs and over it is imposed an image of thick rubber gloves with smoothly rounded metal over the tips. Underneath is a small logo for the Interstate Protective Products company. A voiceover says, “Interstate Protective Products new prophylactic gloves for griffins and Diamond Dogs. Don't take risks with your health. Remember: No gloves, no love.”

The scene opens on a rather dingy basement office. A bald eagle griffin sits behind a desk, eating fried salmon pieces from a bag while the phone rings. After a few rings and the licking of his talons he picks up the receiver and says, “Hello, Tech Support, have you tried deactivating and reactivating it?” He has a heavy brogue, fresh out of the Kingdom's heart, very much recalling Capal.

The camera moves over to another desk. There sits a large-bodied dark greenish-brown Diamond Dog who is also on the phone. “Now need adjust mana flow through beryl-citrine nodes. Careful to not backflow through thaumatic reservoirs or cause mana stack overflow by wrong press of dongle... hello?” He shrugs and hangs up the phone. “Always hang up.”

“You're lucky, Corundum me friend.” The griffin has the phone down on his desk, while a small voice is barely heard from the earpiece. “I've gotta pretend to listen to them the whole time.”

From the side comes a white pegasus mare with a cornflower mane. She heads into a small private office screaming, “Don't look at my hooves!”

Corundum the Diamond Dog looks at that with a tilt of his head. “That seem strange?”

“Not for here, Cor. Not for here.”

A title card comes up, showing the trio in pixel-based video game form. Also in pixel form is the title, “Tech Supportive.” A voice with a slight Trotingham accent says, “Mondays at eight, Gem, Corundum and Rex will offer you all the support they think you deserve. Tech Supportive. Your call is important... to someone else.”

The camera shows an image of a light brown earth stallion with a salt-and-pepper mane and a beard and mustache, strolling casually through the Grand Veldt with zebras around him. He suddenly notices something the zebras miss and pulls up a particular odd-looking plant, and is praised by the zebras. A voice over the scene says, “He once walked across hot coals because he wanted to get to the buffet on the other side.”

The same stallion is seen throwing a long stick, the scene some kind of indistinct forest. The camera pulls back to show that he is repeatedly throwing a timberwolf's right foreleg, which the three-legged creature eagerly fetches and brings over, again and again. “He owns three airships, and uses them at once so he can carry his own amazing presence. He is the most interesting stallion in Equestria.”

The stallion is seen once again, sitting at a table. Beside him are a jenny and a griffin hen, pressing in securely. He is holding up a bottle of ale, looking quite smooth and cool. When he speaks it is with a slight Caballito accent, “I don't always drink ale. But when I do, I prefer Dos Equus.” The bottle is shown in closeup, showing the two stylized horse heads crossed at the necks. The stallion is highlighted again, giving the camera a sage gaze. “Keep wanting it, my friends.”

Brassy instrumental music plays over action-heavy scenes of animation. A buffalo bull, a Changeling male, a middle-sized Diamond Dog female, a gray donkey male, a booted eagle hen and a unicorn mare run through mountains and smash through robots. “Weekday afternoons at three, the galaxy cheers on the six brave cosmonauts whose discovery on an alien world has brought a way to oppose the Great Vault Empire.”

The characters are shown again wearing form-fitting colored jumpsuits and sitting in control stations filled with blinking lights. The scene cuts to show each one piloting a giant robot of their own species. With a flash and another cut the six robots have combined into a single giant bipedal robot, with the donkey and buffalo heads as feet, the Diamond Dog and Changeling heads as hands, the griffin head in the center of the chest, with the wings spread out in back, and the unicorn head topping it all.

That image becomes a white silhouette over which is placed a chrome-looking set of letters, which the announcer reads. “GoTron, Guardian of the Galaxy.”

“New on the Cooking Channel.” The cultured announcer's voice speaks over silent video of Donut Joe LeGrand and his husband Gustave LeGrand in the kitchen. They seem to be alternately narrating their activities and making comments to one another. “Celebrity chefs and restauranteurs Gustave LeGrand and Donut Joe LeGrand will take you behind the scenes, sharing favorite recipes and personal moments.”

The two are out of the kitchen, cuddled up together and gently rubbing their chubby cheeks together. Gustave is stroking along Joe's side, and Joe is using his magic to stroke Gustave's mustache. “Live, love, and cook on our latest, Cooking with Gustave and Joe. Premiering this Sunday evening at seven, on the Cooking Channel. Feed your soul.”

A black screen slowly fades into a silhouette of the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. “She saved the city of Detrot from the Trickster.” A black-and-white image of the Mare-Do-Well standing on a restrained stallion wearing tattered motley and wearing smeared clown makeup crosses the screen. “She returned Professor Frigid to the path of harmony.” Another image crosses the screen, the Mare-Do-Well bumping hooves with an ice-covered unicorn. “And now she faces her biggest challenge in Manehattan...”

An explosion rocks the screen, startling a group of well-dressed ponies. “Fillies and gentlecolts...” A rasping voice emerges from an ancient unicorn mare, with a black mane pulled back in a severe bun, and a white coat covered in bits of rubble. Over her mouth is some kind of mechanical device that rasps softly from within. “My name is Pain. Obey me and I will make you all unimaginably wealthy. All your wildest dreams of avarice will come true.”

“With the help of the Black Knight...” A stallion wrapped completely in black clothing save for an oily black mane sticking out of the back of his face wrappings appears on the screen with Mare-Do-Well, the two seeming to be sizing one another up, “The technological servant of justice will stand strong against the wild excesses of the monster mare, Pain.”

Quick cuts show riots in the streets, collapsing buildings, explosions and several scenes of the Mare-Do-Well and Black Knight fighting side by side. The stirring music swells to a crescendo and then bursts into a fading hum on a scene of the Mare-Do-Well with her artificial wings flying over Manehattan, with the Black Knight on her back, watching as a statue of unburdened Trotlas is raised. The screen then goes dark, white letters cutting through the gloom to announce, “The Mare-Do-Well Rises. Coming Summer, next year.”

Fluttershy stands in the center of the camera's view, mostly hiding her face behind her pink mane. She is standing in a beautiful Carousel Boutique original dress, in the middle of a modeling stage. She seems to be speaking, the area near her mouth is lightly moving as if breath is passing, but her hidden face and downcast eyes make it rather hard to tell.

Rarity comes up from the side and gives the reticent mare a kiss on the cheek. “It's alright, darling, don't worry about the camera. Just focus on me.”

Fluttershy smiles, lifts her head and squeaks out, in a just-audible voice, “Umm, my name is Fluttershy. And I think you really should buy your clothes at Carousel Boutique. Rarity is very kind and polite to all her customers. So please, come visit.” Then the pegasus mare clams up again and hides her face in her mane, while the logo for Carousel Boutique comes up.

Flim and Flam appear front and center in the middle of a plastic-looking kitchen set. “Hi, Flim and Flam here!” They say in unison, whipping off their hats and giving a short bow.

Flim settles his hat on his head and pulls over a wooden and metal device about the size of a bread machine, designed much like an electrical ice cream churner. “And we are presenting to you this fine and dandy little device. Care to tell them what it is, brother?”

“Brother it would be my pleasure.” Flam sets his hat on his head and miles to the camera. “Here we have our modernized, conceptualized and miniaturized grand electrothaumatic cider press, the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy One Thousand!”

“Indeed, indeed, brother!” Flim takes over again, using his horn to light up various features of the device. “Note the built-in quality-control device, a patented feature exclusive to this device. The processing matrix uses all available liquid without draining the seeds of harmful alkaloids. The convenient and easy-clean filtration system removes all traces of seeds, skin and stem while retaining all the pulpy goodness that the discriminating cider drinker demands, and not a bit more! Includes a pulp selector allowing for customization!”

Flam taps the device. “And if you call and order right now we will provide, at no extra charge, a coupon for one pound of mail-order Sweet Apple Acres cider apples!”

“Not good enough, brother of mine!” Flam shakes his head and taps to a second device. “Order now and get two of our remarkable devices, and two mail-order coupons, all for just three easy payments of nineteen bits, plus processing and handling!”

Flim nods to the camera. “And if you are not completely satisfied return it for a complete refund, less processing.”

The device is highlighted, and text crosses the screen showing a phone number, fine print, and credit card logos. Another announcer's voice come sup to say, “Order before the end of the commercial for our special double offer. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy One Thousand. Order today!”

“At Humblebees you're always treated right.” Various, generic scenes of happy diners of many species are shown inside a standard chain restaurant. “Good food, good friends, and a perfect atmosphere for a night on the town. We're your neighborhood restaurant, for all species.”

A duo of diners is shown, a griffin and a Diamond Dog, chowing down on the meals as they are decribed by the announcer. “Try our new herb-roasted salmon, sourced from the Griffin Kingdom, with a savory garlic-pepper sauce. And quartz-infused onion-dill sauce topping a plate of roasted potatoes and duck.”

The new specials are shown at the center of the screen, soon being surrounded by more standard all-vegetarian Equestrian fare. “Come on in to try all your favorites, and maybe find a new dish you'll love. Humblebees. Eating good never felt so great.”

The screen fizzles in while the sound whines, as if the line to the television is being jacked. Then the screen resolves itself there is only a dark, bare studio. In the center is Pricness Luna in her regal finery, as well as a black cloak. Her eyes are white and she is up on two hooves, her forehooves held up to the sky. She hovers lightly as lightning flashes behind her. She faces the camera and screams out in the Royal Canterlot Voice, “WE ARE THE ROYAL PRINCESS LUNA! THOU SHALT LOOK 'PON OUR NIGHT SKY OR SHALL THERE BE A POX 'PON THINE HOME AND THY FAMILY!”

From off camera and above comes the voice of Princess Celestia, speaking with a questioning tone, “Luna? What are you doing down there?”

Luna quickly returns to the ground, her eyes returning to normal. She turns in the direction of the voice and calls up, mildly, “I do naught, sister! Worry yourself not! Have I no designs for mischief this day.”

Celestia doesn't answer for a moment, and sounds just slightly disbelieving when she does. “Alright, Luna. Lunch is ready. Come on up before it gets cold.”

“Very well, sister. It shall not require much time.” Luna keeps an ear out, waiting for her sister to leave before she turns to the camera again, eyes glowing, rearing up and floating once more, voice back to the high volume, “RECALL! A POX!” The camera then cuts out with a burst of static and the screen goes dark.