The Crossest Man in Equestria 3

>Sunlight streams through the trains windows.

>You quite like trains, usually. They’re cosy, you can get a great view of the countryside, and it’s nice just to relax and daydream about what you’ll do when you get there

>It’s been a few years since your last time on one, for  a holiday in Manehattan with your friends. You were just out of college then.

>Those were good times! You wish you could have more good times

>Instead you were here

>About to have a one on one with Anon, who almost certainly hates you now.

>Hoo boy. Deep breathes now.

>The princess asked for your help, remember. She trusts you.

>Just remember: Anon is a misunderstood tragic hero with a heart of gold.

>Definitely not a butt-hole. Nope.

>Your hoof has been hovering over the door to his private car for five minutes now.

>Stealing yourself, you boldly hesitate some more.

>I mean, misunderstood or not, that guy’s still scary as heck.

>You swear you feel the sun on your face intensify slightly.

>Ok, time to be a hero. Into the dragons layer!

>You knock on the door.

>No one answers. With unprecedented bravery, you open the door.

>Anon is sitting with his back to you on the left side of the car. His suit jacket is off, draped over his chair. He is reading what looks like files from the open briefcase on the seat across from him.

>To the right, on the other table, you see a copy of the Canterlot Express, one of the most powerful papers in the city

>You read the headline: “MYSTERIOUS “ANON” OUSTED FROM POWER?”

>There was a blurry picture of Anon entering the Palace, labelling him as a “feared hooman”

>You move closer, curious to see if you get a mention

“You’re not in it love, don’t bother checking”

>Oh Celestia, you forgot he was there! He was as quiet as a monk when he wanted to be.

“The hacks smell blood. They’ve been waiting for this day for quite a wee while, I reckon.  You should see what the Saddle wrote.”

>He indicates another paper lying underneath the Express. You pull it out.

>It reads: “MONKEY BUSINESS!! CELESTIA SLIPS ON BANANON-SKIN”

>They didn’t even bother with a photo of Anon. It’s just Celestia with some bananas thrown in.

“Hi-fucking-larious, yeah? Thought I’d buy some copies, and take some names down. Just for future reference. I do like a bit of…revenge”

>There’s an unbearable, awkward pause as you try to figure out how to play this.

>You were expecting something like a Sonic Rainboom, only with swear words instead of colours. Not small-talk about the morning papers.

>Eventually Anon does something unexpected. He smiles.

“Well come on, sit. Lots to talk about!”

>He pats the seat next to him. Having no real option, you comply.

“Sleep well? Everything ok?”

>”Uh, yes, everything’s fine, and you?” You reply.

>The moment you finish speaking, you cringe. His eyes twitch.

“Me? Never better. Tippity top. Why, did something happen? You concerned about me?”

>“Well, it’s just…” You sigh. “Look, I know that you’re mad at me, and I just want to say-“

“Mad at you? No, no! Perish the thought! Last night, with the princess-well, that’s just politics, isn’t it?”

>He laughs, which means you have to laugh too. Anything to keep this newer, happy-if-vaguely-threatening Anon going.

>While you laugh, he slips an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sure you realize that I’m as nice a guy as you could ever hope to meet. And that, for as long as we’re going to be here, in fucking Fuckknows Where, we need to be a team, ok? We’re like Lennon-McCartney, and I’m Lennon. No fuck that, I’m Lennon and McCartney, and you’re fucking Ringo. You get me?”

>”Well, not really if I’m being honest-“

“It means I need you. As in, I need you to do exactly what I tell you to do. Celestia will be watching this, and if you shit yourself again then I’ll be out on my arse. So we’re going to play this cool. As far as the Mayor is concerned, we’re bosom buds. The best of chums. We’re Noam fucking Chumsky. Ok?”

>Well, it’s a start, you suppose. Pretending to be friends is better than nothing, right? You can work with this.      

>Suddenly: an idea

>”In a way, I’d be…your PR mare, right?” You say hopefully

“I suppose. Usually I couldn’t give a badger’s arse what people thought of me, ‘cause usually it’s some other poor sod coping the flak. But the situation’s a little more sensitive right now…”

>He nods approvingly

“Aye, go for it. Smile in public, give it big licks about how I’m really a “sensitive soul”. That sort of bullshit.”

>”Yeah, that sort of…bull…poop. Haha”

“Good to know you’re on-board. Now fuck off and let me read these files. I only got them this morning.”

>You glance at his notes. The one in his spare hand has a picture of a grey-maned earth pony, with little spectacles perched on her muzzle. She was giving a speech of some sort.

>”Is that the mayor of Ponyville?”

“Yeah. Mayor Mare, I shit you not. No wonder she’s panicking, if she loses she’ll have to get a fucking name change.”

>You notice that he’s been drawing on the file with a black pen. Some of the new additions, such as those in the margins, seem to be written in some kind of strange foreign script. Was this his native language?

>He’s also just finished off drawing a little toothbrush moustache onto the Mayor’s picture.

>He notices you looking, and glares.

“I’m sorry, but did I not tell you to fuck off?”

>”Well…I’m your closest, bested friend now, remember?”

“Only in public. Don’t push your luck, my BFFF” growls Anon.

>”What does the other F stand for?”

“Take a fucking guess”

>You decide to try your luck anyway. You always were an optimist

>”But I’m still your assistant, remember? I should be learning this stuff too!”

>Anon stares at you for a moment, and then rolls his eyes.

“Ok, fine, I’ll tell you what you need to know. Take notes if you want to.”

>You eagerly open your bag and produce a pen and paper.

“You listening?”

>You nod.

“Great. Well, first of all, there’s this thing called “coffee”. It’s like wee brown beans, you’ll find them in the kitchen. Take a spoonful of those, put it in a cup, then get some hot water-“

>“Yy wnt mmh o mk uu cffe?” You splutter.

“Come again?”

>You spit out the pen

>“You want me to make you coffee? I’m not an idiot Anon, I was in the Royal Council-

“You were in the Council for about half an hour! And you still made an arse of it! You think because we’re doing the whole fucking “Hey look, Anon’s not a wanker, honest” thing,  I’m going to let you have a say in the actual politics part of this? I still remember last week, you’ll have the Mayor goose-stepping down the road singing “Ponyville Uber Alles”!

>You blush with embarrassment, and just a little frustration.

“You’re here, as far as I can tell, to learn. So shut your fucking mouth and listen, and maybe you will. Or maybe you won’t, I don’t really give a fuck to be perfectly honest. Just do your job.”

>After a week of stress, you finally feel yourself go a little crazy

>”Do you enjoy being like…this?” You snap. Anon’s eyes narrow.

“Like what? Being like what?” he asks, goading you.

“Being such a…”

“Oh come on Mother Theresa, lay it on me! Go on, impress me for fuck sake-

>“-SUCH A PRICK!” You blurt out.

>You cover your mouth with your hooves.

>You’ve never sworn before, never mind shout it out. You pray that nopony else heard you somehow.

>Anon, after a flash of initial surprise, studies you cooly.

>Terror seizes you, but defiance keeps you starting right back at him.

>It’s getting getting hard to match his gaze. You have a strange urge to apologize, but you fight against it.

“Feel better now?” Anon asks quietly.

>”A little” It’s true, you’re a little ashamed to admit.

“I know”

>There’s a strange, pensive look on his flat face. He doesn’t say anymore, but somehow you feel like he wants to tell you something

>Then his eyes shift to the window behind you.

“Oh for fucks sake, is that it?”

>You turn your head. Ponyville had sprung up into view.

 “That’s not a village. That’s not even a hamlet. It’s a fucking Polonius!

>Shaking yourself out of your semi-stupor, you slide over to the window

>You’ve never been to Ponyville before. It’s not THAT small. Anon is probably just used to cities like Canterlot and Manehattan.

>He checks his watch, and looks out the window again.

“There’s no clouds, either.”

>”Well, that’s nice. I think good weather always helps with the mood-“

“No, I asked the weather-team for a big fuck-off bit of rain. It’s practically summer out there!”

>It actually was summer, but you chose to keep that remark to yourself. You’d already pushed your luck today.

>”I…don’t understand.  Why is the weather important?”

“More rain means less ponies milling about the streets, which means less ponies gawking at the big monkey in a suit. Every time I go somewhere new it’s the same, so I sent a letter down asking for a bit of rain.”

 >He bangs his first on the wall in frustration.

“Someone’s fucked up. We’re going to have a little “chat” with the weather team later on. And maybe do little taxidermy afterwards”

>Fantastic. More shouting to look forward too.

>There’s not a cloud in the sky as the train pulls up at the station. You can see pegasi buzzing around the town.

>Anon has his hands on his chin, deep in thought. Eventually he stands up, and turns to you.

“Right then, my little PR expert. Consider this an exam. Time to impress me.”

>”You want me to swear again?”

“The exact fucking opposite. Besides, you’re a shite swearer. Now get up and put on your public face, it’s showtime.” ¬¬

>You nod, and walk with the gangly human towards the door.

>You actually feel a little nervous. Like you’re about to go on stage. Which you were, in a way.

>Anon leads the way as you both walk out into Ponyville