Mayor Mare’s words echoed like a trombone, weaving in and out of topics that covered every subject. One moment it would be the weather, but the next second could be about prices. She would shout, soothe, and comfort, changing tones like an acrobat swinging from rope to rope.

Politics is just a performance. And I'm a professional actress

“Miss Mayor,” a straw hat farmer spoke, “with all due respect, mah’ squash were failin’ during that Cloudsdale weather crisis. Ah’ know we’re being a tad harsh on y’all but ya’ need to understan’ how hard it was on the squash…”

“Mister Greenhooves,” Mayor Mare replied in a measured tone, “I understand that the precipitation dilemma had a nasty effect on your crops, but Ponyville had no control over this matter.”

“Ah’ do know, ma’am, but yer’ overlookin’ my point. This town was founded on crops and culture. Ya’ can’t have one without the other. Crops should be the government’s first priority.”

Several members of the audience stood up.

“Hear, hear!”

“Darn’ tootin’”

Mayor Mare felt her stomach tie in a knot. The public was getting bolder.

Shuffling the stack of notecards in front of her, she silently chided herself for going first. If only she had let Golden Decree deliver the opening. After all, legislation made a great scapegoat.

“Look at this!” A pink mare held up a pair of brown, wilted flowers. “Your blunder cost me half a month’s work! I stayed up night and day growing these petunias! How on earth am I supposed to arrange a bouquet with this pile of twigs?”

Her declaration was met with little support from the stands.

After having been stuck in Town Hall for more than an hour, most of the audience was caught up in idle conversation or snoring in their seats. Even Mayor Mare herself desired the chance to take a rest in the blue armchair a few feet away from her.

“You must understand, Daisy, it wasn’t like we didn’t do anything. We appealed to Cloudsdale. We even sent weather teams to gather clouds in the wild.”

“And about that pegasi team. All they brought us was paltry clumps of water dust!”

“I’ve addressed Rainbow Dash on this.”

“And just where is she? She's in charge of this mess! ”

Like I know where the Element of Loyalty vanished.

The forum continued until Mayor Mare had fought, explained, and re-explained every single qualm directed her way. Eventually, the only noise she heard was of chairs creaking and ponies snoring.

“If there are no other questions,” Mayor Mare announced, “I’ll be giving the stage to Golden Decree, who will be glad to answer any legal questions pertaining to the Ponyville Municipal Code...”

She let her words trail away, backing away from the wooden podium as her grey-coated Head of Legislation strode towards the microphone.

At last, she could finally rest her rump and watch Golden Decree blabber nonsense that could put a hyperactive filly to sleep.

Well, Mayor Mare, you’ve done it yet again. And you didn’t screw anything–

She froze.

It started off as a rumble and grew into a roar as the sound of air escaping a bladder reverberated off the walls.

The creaking evidently stopped. Those who were snoring were now wide-awake. Even Golden Decree had paused to look back.

All eyes were now on her. Some faces were scowling. Others just scratched their forehead. A few had their hooves stifling the giggles that threatened to break the silence.

Her face glowing a bright pink, Mayor Mare slowly rose from her chair.

What…just…

The horrifying sound echoed throughout the hall once more. Mayor Mare yelped, her rump jamming back on the seat cushion. The audience flipped upside down.

The pervading silence lasted for just a few seconds.

Then came the thunderous roar of a million voices laughing. It penetrated the roof and amplified across the halls. They were cackling at her, the pinnacle of Ponyville. The representative of their town. Their leader!

Mayor Mare scrambled to her hooves, spectacles skewed over her snout. Several members of the audience rose out of their seats, applauding the stage.

“Hey everypony,” one colt shouted, gesturing towards Mayor Mare, “it’s the Fart Heard ‘Round the World!”

The crowd began to chant the phrase in a singsong manner.

Sweat beating down her forehead, the room began to spin as if she was riding a merry-go-round. This couldn’t be happening. This stuff happened to other ponies. But not her.

Stumbling to her hooves, the seat cushion clutched in her mouth, Mayor Mare backed away into the curtains.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

“Mayor Mare! What was that?” Golden Decree’s head popped out of the curtains like some demented jack in the box.

The sweat had now drenched her cushion. Oh no. Oh no. No. No. No. She began to rub her hoof fervently, trying to dry it.

“Mayor Mare, are you alright?” An olive green mare trudged through the curtains, her orange mane tied in a bun.

Why does this pillow feel deflated?

“Looks like somepony ate too many beans,” Golden Decree chuckled.

“Shut it, Legislation!” the mare quipped. “Mayor Mare, it’s me, Just Gavel—Your Horn of Jurisdiction?”

 “I…” Mayor Mare trailed off, "Wait a second.”

Tugging at the pillow, she saw the cover come loose to unveil a bright red rubber sac. Scrawled in bold black text, it read The Joke’s On You Whoo-Hoo Whoopee Cushion.

“Starswirl’s beard!” Just Gavel gasped.

Golden Decree rolled his eyes. "Oh no, somepony planted a whoopee cushion on the Mayor’s chair? Call the Royal Guard! This could only be the work of Discord.”

“Do you take anything seriously?” Just Gavel smacked her hoof over Decree’s forehead, eliciting a small cry of pain.

 Mayor Mare tried to give a hearty chuckle, but it came out as a stifled croak. “I think we’re being a little too rash. A harmless joke never hurt anypony.”

“Harmless joke? Are you hearing yourself?” Just Gavel shouted, the disbelief written all over her face.

 “Just Gavel, please, it’s just a whoopee cushion. Maybe some little foal trying to have some fun.”

“It was a deliberate attack! On you, of all ponies!”

Mayor Mare stared at the cushion like it was the final clue to a royal plot. Soon, the voices of her supervisors dissolved into muffled sounds in her head.

Nopony would ever want to harm me? Just a foal having fun. But there were no foals present tonight…

She could hear the muffled voices of her advisors bickering.

“Sabotage?” Golden Decree was shaking his head. “Mayor, are you hearing this?”

“I—“ Mayor Mare's mind was in a maelstrom of shock and confusion. Why would anypony do this to her? The town loved her!

You must stay in control, Mayor Mare. Stay. In. Control.

“I—I stand by my verdict, and I think both of you are overreacting. Besides, who would have the tenacity, the will power, or the energy to pull off something like this?”

“For Celestia's sake it isn't that hard to place a whoopee cushion,” Golden Decree muttered, before being smacked once again by Just Gavel.