Title: WIP2 Author: NIANIA Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/1trW3aL1 First Edit: Tuesday 5th of March 2013 07:18:08 PM CDT Last Edit: Tuesday 5th of March 2013 07:18:08 PM CDT The scent of sweet smoke and ash filled the air as you took another drag. Warm smoke filled your lungs in harsh contrast to the nights chill air, and what a night it was. Crisp mountain air and an open sky, dirtied only by the lights of Canterlot...this small clearing was perfect.   Perfectly boring maybe. A small flick of your hoof sends a spiral of ash to the ground, dancing in the breeze. But maybe boring was what you wanted, after all exciting hadn't seemed that much better these last few months dodging from town to town, through places and by places. Maybe you didn't know what you wanted, at least you had stuck through it because today you could say you were ready to die. Well that was the point of a bucket list right? Live it, do it, die. Or maybe life was more complicated than a list could ever capture, whatever. Taking one last drag, you exhale slowly savoring the moment.   What do I do now.   Leaning against this tree will have to do for now. Looking at stars is nice too.   Today you had finished your bucket list. Well your realistic bucket list anyhow, sword fighting on a train in Camelon Daring Doo style wasn't possible nor practical under any circumstances, and sneaking a kiss on Celestia? Death sentence at least.  Boring was how most ponies lived, do what your cutie mark tells you to do, find a mare and start a family, have three or four grandfoals and then you realize the cigarette is burning your hoof, BUCK that stings. A quick stomp of your hoof extinguishes it.   Ow. I do know one thing though, I am far too sober today. I wonder if that bar on Mane and 5th is still open. Enough bits? Check. Enough intelligence for moderation?   --- The grey stallion shuffled a stack of papers and began to eye once more the defendant's list of infractions. His hoof ran down the crinkling page as he measured mentally, six...maybe seven inches at least? The youth these days. A quick swipe of his hoof and his glasses were readjusted. So much wasted potential...hurmph...   "By the order of the Equestrian Judiciary Department and in accordance with her highnesses' laws and statutes, and given the fair and just trial rendered by a jury of one's peers, this court finds the defendant guilty on the follow counts in order of increasing severity."     "Public drunkenness on the streets of Canterlot, four counts".   "Petty theft and theft for the appropriation of the following items: a pair of stockings, one garden watering can, one pie, theft of services from three establishments names omitted, and the misappropriation of public resources such as a public water fountain."   "Public indecency, three counts, for vulgar streaking and inappropriate relations with a post office mailbox, disturbing  the peace with lewd gestures of a sexual nature, and graphic profanity." At this the judge grimaced a little, the reports of ruffled house mares and nosy ninnies had been insufferable these last few days. But the next charge was why a bench judgment had come down so quickly...this insect...this vile "thing" that called itself a pony had done the unthinkable. Just the thought of the vulgar defilement that had been perpetrated in these streets filled him with rage. With neck veins bulging ever so visibly he began to speak of the most vile act.   "Daring to grope our goddess Celestia in a drunken stupor - INSOLENT worm you should be drawn and quartered!" The was judge visibly frothing now. "May your groveling self be ever thankful this charge has been given amnesty by the light and grace of our dear princess." At this utterance the tired grey stallion had to take a moment to compose himself.   The crowd was incensed now at the benches calls of beatings, public shaming, and a return to gallows era justice were thrown about a few times. But the judge had been tasked to remain order and order there shall be.   Slamming his gavel down "Order!"A thunderous crack had silenced them. "There shall be observance of the majesty's mercy and laws in this court." Finally turning to the defendant; the judge said informally.   "Young colt, what were you even thinking?!"   "It was just a spot of youthful whimsy, your honor." you sputter out that line as a tired refrain, frankly you don't believe it yourself.   "Youthful whimsy...hmm hmm hmm...is that what we call stupidity these days?"   "But..."   The clang of a gavel cuts you off. "Be silent, I am already tired of you speaking. You should be thankful our dear princess has made such a push for the reformation of petty criminals these days. Jail is too harsh a sentence for a first act of...youthful whimsy, no matter the severity. You are hereby ordered to make reparations of all damages caused: a sum of nearly a thousand bits, and perform no less than one thousand hours of community service or service for a year's time whichever is longer." A final clang of the gavel seals your fate.   Enough intelligence for moderation? Negative.