A Hearth's Warming Eve Tale: Celestia the Bully
by Avatar of Madness
First published
A heart warming Hearth's Warming Eve tale of little Skidder, whose only wish is for Princess Celestia to stop bullying him!
It's Hearth's Warming Eve for little Skidder and his father, and Skidder couldn't be happier! Really! He can't get happier at all! Princess Celestia has been bullying him for almost a year, but nopony believes him! Ain't that a hoot and a holler?
Skidder doesn't know why, but the Princess has been making fun of him, stalking him, and above all, stealing from him with no rhyme or reason! Everypony just thinks Skidder is joking or lying, and won't do a thing about his stolen Joyboys and bike. This time, this Hearth's Warming Eve, things are gonna be different. This bullying ends now.
Celestia Steals a Bike
A navy blue colt with a disheveled black mane scanned the final bend leading to his home. Convinced that the area was clear, he cycled from his hiding place. Things were lucky for Skidder on this snowy night. If he kept his stealthy streak going, he might slip by unnoticed. He might not have to face.... her.
Skidder spots his house, twenty or thirty away, and happily pedals to the finish. He was so close, so close to a night without harassment! This would have certainly completed his day; he received an A+ on all his tests, played at the arcade with Featherweight, and finally, he used his bits that he was saving all summer to buy a shiny, new, red bike! Of course, his perfect day was shattered as Skidder saw what awaited him at his home's door. The visitor spotted Skidder and smirked with satisfaction.
There was no point in hiding now. Skidder grumpily pedaled his bike to the front door and addressed the visitor with downcast eyes, "Hey, Princess Celestia..."
The Princess in question was standing on her hindlegs, and leaning on the house with her forelegs crossed. She regards Skidder with a motherly tone, "Why, hello little Skidder! What brings you here?"
"It's my house..." Skidder mumbles whilst avoiding eye contact.
Princess Celestia chuckled, "I would imagine so, my little pony. What I mean is," her voice suddenly assumes a gruff note, akin to a 70s era Greaser gang, "what brings you here, squirming like a pathetic worm trying to escape an unstoppable predator? You think you could hide from me?" Celestia's horn briefly glows, grabbing Skidder's bike in a golden veil, before sharply pulling it out from under him.
Skidder falls and hits the dirt road on his back, sending starbursts swimming through his vision as his brain recoiled from the rattle. Princess Celestia picks the disoriented colt up in a grip of magic, and proceeds to shake him down, quite literally. "How many bits you got for me today?"
"N-n-none!" Skidder stammered as the Princess shook him from side to side. She probably could have grabbed his saddlebags and looked for colt-cash efficiently, but this was much more fun. "Y-you already t-t-took it all!"
It was at this time, that a photo slipped from the confines of Skidder's Daring Do saddlebag. Celestia grabs the photo with a separate curtain of magic, while she was still shaking Skidder of course. The photo held a picture of a yellow filly with a deep-red mane, tied in a pink bow, standing in front of the schoolhouse next to Skidder. The both of them were grinning widely.
Celestia spits on the ground, "I've seen better." and promptly tucks the photo into her voluminous, ethereal tail.
Skidder snorts in contempt as she finally releases her hold on him. "Fine! Take it! Will you leave me alone now?"
"I still don't have my bits, Skidmark." she plainly states.
Skidder sighs and rolls his eyes, "I already told you that you took it all!"
Celestia nods understandingly, "Alright, then I guess..." but she snatches Skidder's brand new bike in her magic, much to his horror, "...that this'll have to do." Celestia takes the handles in her two front hooves, places herself on the seat, and begins to pedal around the stricken colt in circles. The bike, however, was made for colts of Skidder's size, so it was quite small. This meant that the tall alicorn was seated in a very hunched and uncomfortable position with her head hanging far past the front wheel. While this sight would have been utterly hilarious in any other situation, it was an absolute nightmare for Skidder. He had spent ages hoarding the few bits that he earned to get that bicycle!
"Please!" Skidder pleads, "I used up all the bits I had on that bike!"
Celestia abruptly stops, and shoots him a menacing leer, "Wanna scrap about it...?"
Skidder immediately cringes, attempting to avoid the princess's glare. "N...no... just take it."
"That's what I thought. See you around, Skidmark!" With those final words, Princess Celestia swiftly cycles out of sight to who knows where.
Skidder suddenly calls out to the riding Princess, "You can fly, you don't even NEED a bike!" then he was graced by the sight of the alicorn cycling towards Canterlot in the sky, flapping her wings as she pedaled.
Skidder sighs again, this time, in grim acceptance. He turned back to his house, opened the front door, and dragged his hooves to his room upstairs. His father had already fallen asleep, his strenuous work schedule requiring him to do so in order to wake up in the early hours.
Skidder slung himself onto his plain bed, bedecked in only a simply blue comforter and a single pillow. The colt glazed himself into slumber, as the thoughts of future altercations only quickened his somber slumber.
Skidder awoke the next morning to the ring of an alarm clock with a feeling that he had grown familiar with: reluctance and resentment. He squirmed out of the comforter, and onto the hardwood floor. He groggily marched himself to the bathroom to accomplish the duties that his self-hygiene demanded.
After a thorough brush and a quick shower, Skidder made his refreshed trot downstairs, beckoned by the sweet scent of breakfast. Skidder stepped into the kitchen to see that his father was stationed at the stove, nearly done producing the morning victuals that gave Skidder the will to drag himself further.
His father was a lanky unicorn stallion with a charcoal coat and white mane. His tail and mane's style looked similar to his offspring's: medium in length and disheveled in appearance. His cutie mark was a precision knife crossed over a chisel, and he was aptly name was Cutter. Cutter was a sculptor, who worked well with hewing large rocky structures into detailed pieces of art. Unfortunately, Cutter is what is known as, a starving artist. He did not procure much artistic work, despite his amazing talent, and he was mainly hired for clearing trees or simple construction work. Although Cutter did not care for artistic work right now, so he did not look for it anyways. Cutter did not make much in Ponyville, but he was happy. After all, he had a son to make it all worthwhile, and that is all he wanted for Hearth's Warming Eve.
"Mornin', Dad..." Skidder mumbled as he took a chair at the table. A plate had already been set, along with a glass of milk. Cutter floated the sizzling skillet in the hold of his soft gray magic, walked to Skidder's plate, and deposited a serving of steaming hash browns.
"What's up Skids'?" Cutter asked in a gentle and concerned voice.
Skidder groaned as he recalled last night's events. "You know what."
Cutter grimaces, "Skids'... this again?"
Skidder blankly glances at his father, "I'm telling the truth, Dad. Princess Celestia was bullying me... again."
Cutter sighs, "Just eat your breakfast, son. I'm sure that the kind ruler of Equestria wouldn't single you out, a colt in Ponyville, for random harassment. I'm getting tired of hearing this..."
"It's different this time," Skidder protests with rising volume, "she stole my bike!"
Cutter freezes at the crime's mention, "Someone stole your bike?!"
Skidder nods furiously, "Yes! So do—"
"I'll put up a notice at the mayor's office," Cutter cuts in as he proceeds to clean the skillet in the sink, "crime doesn't happen too often here, so it should turn up soon if we look for it. Don't worry, we'll find your bike as soon as possible."
Skidder opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it, and focused on demolishing the hash browns before him. As he munched, he thought of his situation, causing more thoughts of hatred to arise. It was a directionless hatred now. It had a focal point earlier in his life, but the anger slowly infected everything he saw.
He was not always so hateful, he was actually quite the happy colt at a time in his life. The harsh feelings he had now were probably begotten by the events in his earlier years.
Namely, the death of his mother. She had perished protecting a lost filly from a massive avalanche while on a walk with Skidder and Cutter. Horribly enough, it was Hearth's Warming Eve.
The sudden demise had robbed Cutter of his passion for sculpting, and left Skidder with a dismal relic that evolved into latent rancor. Skidder's constant smile was gone, replaced with a tired expression of reluctant compliance. This is not to say he never grinned, it is just that the smiles were much harder to extract than before, even for the town's party mare, Pinkie Pie. Cutter, on the other hand, eventually took the passing with peace, but still had little desire to practice his art. Cutter always assumed a happy face, but it was hard to tell if it was forced or not. Perhaps he did it for his son, hoping that the disposition would rub off on him. So far, it seems that it has not.
Skidder finished his breakfast with a long gulp of milk, and grabbed his Daring Do saddlebag lying on top of the table. He deftly latched it on with a swing of his neck, and calls to Cutter, "Dad, I'm going to school now! And Is it alright if I hang out with Featherweight afterwards?"
"It's fine," Cutter complies, "just don't stay out too long!"
Skidder briskly trots out the door, and heads for the Ponyville Schoolhouse. The sun shines brightly through a thin layer of clouds, giving his back a respite from the chill and liquefying a small layer of frost on Ponyville's grass. As Skidder ambled along the road to the schoolhouse, he noticed the other schoolfoals enjoying the brief appearance of the sun. It may have been a symbol of warmth and love to everypony else, but to him, it was only a memento of the royal pain in his plot. Then an irksome voice reminded him of another pain in his plot.
"Hey, Blank-Flank! Why so down in the dumps?" This voice belonged to—surprise-surprise—the ever irritable Diamond Tiara, flanked by her henchfilly, Silver Spoon.
The two fillies surround him in a quick pincer movement, and give him a jostle, "Aren't you gonna say anything?" Silver Spoon asks, slightly annoyed by his lack of a reaction.
Over the years he has been here in Ponyville, he has learned that the best way to withstand the dastardly duo, was to act is if he were a stone. Giving no response tended to irritate them, much to Skidder's pleasure. Skidder did not even care that he had no cutie mark, it would come when it comes. However, there was one thing that he just could not ignore.
Diamond Tiara sneers, and leans in close, "Why don't you tell some more fibs about the Princess?"
Skidder stops in his tracks, and yells. "It's not a lie! She even stole my bike last night!"
The two freeze upon his exclamation, and burst into a fit of laughter. "Bwahahahahaha!"
Diamond Tiara reins her giggling to loose a quip, "Why would she even want your bike? She can fly, remember?"
"Yeah, you can come up with a better lie than that, can't you?" Silver Spoon agrees while chuckling.
The two laugh again, then proceed to execute their horribly cringe-worthy hoofshake before dashing ahead. "Bump, bump, sugar-lump, rump!"
Skidder scowls, growls, and shouts an ultimatum to the skies, garnering much attention from the surrounding foals, "CELESTIA, YOU THIEVING HAG, THIS STOPS NOW!!!!!!!!"
Author's Notes:
Yup, second story. I thought I wasn't gonna make another one, buuuut then a contest in one of the groups i partake in came up for a festive story. Sooo yeah.
Skidder Strikes Back!
"This is dumb...!"
The other schoolfoals only giggled at Skidder's complaint. The colt of the story was seated on a stool, in the far corner of the classroom, and was accompanied by a dunce cap on his head. He sat, facing the wall, with a sour expression on his face.
The teacher, Miss Cheerilee, sighed, and trotted to his prison. This was the third time Skidder interrupted her lesson. "What did you expect, Skidder? You can't just scream to the school that the Princess is a thieving hag!"
"What happened to free speech?" Skidder argues over his shoulder, "Are you some sort of communist? Is that what you are, Miss Cheerilee, a no-good communist? Huh?!"
Cheerilee facehoofs at the foal's accusations. "No, Skidder, I am not a communist. And you didn't make it much better for yourself when you ranted for twenty minutes about the false stories of Princess Celestia's abuse!"
"They. Aren't. Stories." Skidder stolidly states.
"Then tell me!" Cheerilee demands, "Why, oh why, would Princess Celestia steal a bike when she can fly?!"
"Because she's a jerk!"
Cheerilee takes a deep breath to retain any composure she had left, "Skidder. I do not have time to listen to anymore of this nonsense. I have a class to teach. Will you stop your interruptions for the remainder of the day, or do I have to talk to your father?"
Skidder bites back a response regarding fascism, and reins in his bubbling resentment with obedience. Bothering his father at work was one thing Skidder did NOT want to do. "I will not interrupt the class anymore, Mam."
"Thank you." Cheerilee responds with a smile, remaining oblivious to his disposition. "Now, class, I believe it is time for lunch... and I broooooouuuught cupcakes for everypony!" The sweet revelation was met with joyful shouts of gratitude from the hungry class.
Cheerilee proceeded to lead the class out the door while balancing a box of cupcakes she procured from her desk. When the final foals walked out the door, Cheerilee stuck her head back in, "That means cupcakes for you too, Skidder!"
Skidder shoved himself off of his jail-stool, removed his Humiliation-Hat, and shuffled towards the open door. Even an angry colt like Skidder liked cupcakes.
"I'm telling you, Featherweight, Princess Celestia is a big, communist, fascist, bully!" Skidder spat on the ground in contempt as he walked Ponyville's dirt path. School was over for the day, and our colt had decided to spend his time with his best friend, Featherweight the pegasus.
"I'm not saying that I don't believe you," Featherweight hurriedly assured, "I just find it a little hard to see that Equestria's nicest pony would WANT to mess with you... or steal your bike."
"C'mon, Feather, you know how long I've been saving up for that bike! And that means you know I wouldn't lie about it!" Skidder lowered his head as he began to shake with rage, "Dear sweet Luna, I hate that princess...!"
"Calm down, bro, you've been really angry lately." Featherweight says with a frown and drooped ears, but then a thought suddenly squirms its way into Featherweight head, and he perks up, "Some shakes at Sugarcube Corner oughta change that!"
Skidder snorts, "Stopping that stupid princess is the only thing that would anything..." he notices his friend's falling face, and quickly changes the pace of tone, "... but a shake always helps!"
Coincidentally enough, the two had already reached Sugarcube Corner. The gingerbread-like building gave off a mixture of delicious scents, but they all had that distinct sweetness everypony loved so much. Skidder and Featherweight entered the sweet shop, to be immediately pounced upon by the premiere-party-pony-of-Ponyville who had an aptitude for appearing out of nowhere: Pinkie Pie. Of course, she had, without warning, let loose a seemingly unintelligible stream of dialogue.
"HEY! Skidder and Featherweight! Ohmigosh, I don't see you here too often, Skidder, it's so nice to have you! I just hope it's nice for you to have me here—wait, I'm doing that rambling thing the Cakes asked me not to do... Agh! I did it again, oh I hope they aren't mad. I'll ask them when I'm done with your order. What would you two like to munch on this super-duper-extra-fantabulous-day?"
The two colts could only ignore the insensible gibberish, as they were accustomed to. Featherweight held up his hoof, "One strawberry milkshake, and one chocolate, please!"
Pinkie salutes, "Yessir!" and bounced off with the same enthusiasm she had greeted them with. Featherweight snickered at her smile-charged antics, whereas Skidder only rolled his eyes.
Skidder and Featherweight took their places at a nearby table. As if on cue, Pinkie zipped to their sides with two milkshakes in tow. "That'll be three bits for each, please!" Before Skidder could say anything regarding his stolen cash, Featherweight had fished the required coinage out of his saddlebag, and paid the mare.
Featherweight chuckles, and leans in to whisper. "You already told me that Celestia took all your bits, remember?"
Skidder pauses in apparent surprise, and smiles.
Pinkie nudges Skidder's hoof. Skidder looks up to her with a raised eyebrow, and Pinkie winks. "How 'bout a smile for Aunt Pinkie? You don't need any bits to give those!" Skidder lowered his eyebrow, and only returned a shrug.
Pinkie Pie's mane slightly deflated, and her smile faltered. "Uh, that's alright! Maybe next time...?... or the next." she bounds away, with a little less spring in each hop.
Skidder paid no attention to the effects of his frown, and set upon slurping the chocolate shake before him. Featherweight had noticed, however. His eyebrows furrow as he examines Skidder's expression. Being the school's paper's photographer and editor, he was able to pick up on the little things. Skidder seemed placid, but the slight squint and faint hint of a frown were signs of the hate he constantly bore.
Skidder notices Featherweights examination. He ceases slurping to question his friend's behavior, "What's up?"
Featherweight tentatively opens his mouth, as if he were unsure about asking, but he asked anyways, "Skids', you alright? You look... angry."
Skidder sighs, and pushes his milkshake aside. He rubs his temples with his hooves. "I am angry. Angry, and tired. I'm so tired of walking alone, knowing that stupid princess could be there to harass me again. I'm angry because I know that no one will believe me, and that she isn't gonna stop."
"... so you swear that all the times you said Princess Celestia was bullying you were not stories...?"
Skidder's eyes squint, unsure of where this was going, "... yeah... it's no lie."
"Then I believe you."
Skidder's ears flop up, and his eyes widen, "Seriously?"
"Yup, that's what friends are for! But..." Featherweight quickly interjects, "...if you want Celestia to stop, I suggest this..." Featherweight rummages through his saddlebag and pulls out his prized possession: his camera.
Skidder immediately shakes his head, "No, no way, I can't use your camera!"
Featherweight places it on the table, "Yes you can, it's pretty simple actually. Since you can't exactly fight an alicorn, blackmail is the only way. Take a picture of her stealing something of yours the next time you see her. If you're lucky, you can get a picture of her on your bike!"
Skidder begins to put the pieces together as a plan formulates in his mind. He slams a hoof on the table, "Of course! That way, the other ponies will have to believe she's acting like a jerk! Then I could threaten to show the photo to the rest of the world, and then she's gotta stop!" Skidder smiles, and directs his gratitude back to his friend, "Thanks, Feather, this means a whole lot to me."
Featherweight waved the matter aside with a hoof, "Don't worry about it. Anyways, let's finish up here, and go to the park later." Skidder nods in approval. The two pals hoofbump, and divert their attention back to their milkshakes.
Skidder confidently sauntered the path back to his house. It was nightfall, and Celestia almost always harassed him in the night since he was usually alone then (Featherweight had to be home before then too), which he needed for his plan to work. Of course, Skidder didn't keep Featherweight's camera in his saddlebags, otherwise, Celestia could find it. He had kept the camera stashed in the bushes next to his house, that way, he could easily retrieve it when he caught her red-hoofed.
Skidder finally reached his home, and to his delight, saw that Celestia was already there... with his bike too! However, he had to wait for the picture. It was too risky now. He marched closer, and saw that Celestia was spraying slanderous graffiti on his home. It was a caricature of Skidder himself, with accentuated, dopey eyes and buck teeth, along with crude male genitalia outlined over his feature.
Celestia drops the cans, and turns to face the colt. "Hey, Skidmark. Thanks for the bike, it's totally lame, but it'll have to do." she approaches him, and her wings flared dramatically. She sweeps him up with one wing, and painfully noogies him with her free hoof.
Pain flowered in Skidder's sore head as she ground her hard hoof into his skull, "Agh! Agh! Stop it!"
Celestia releases him, letting Skidder hit the ground. She looms over him with a sadistic smirk, the shadows adding a menacing leer over her face "Then you better pay up. Let's see what you got for me tonight."
The Princess committed to the same routine of magically shaking him down. His saddlebag flopped open, and a Joyboy, a miniature gaming device popular among the colts, fell from its confines.
She whistles appreciatively, and lifts the game machine to her eye's view. "Oh-ho-ho, I knew you've been holding out on me, Skidmark. This'll do nicely... I oughta thank you." Celestia quickly grabs Skidder in a magic hold, brings him inches to her face, and releases a noisy burp filled with smelly miasma.
Skidder squirms to run away from the Princess's noxious breath as she blew more of the foul air over him, "Gross! Let me go! Let me go!"
Celestia cackles at his pain, and complies with his demands. "Gotta run, dinner is waitin' for me. Later, Skidmark!" She heads back for the stolen bike, and proceeds to ride away with the paint cans in her magic's grasp.
Once she is a good distance away, Skidder grabs the camera in the bushes behind him. He quickly works the controls, and captures a perfect image of the riding princess. Skidder silently cheered. This was it! All his troubles were over. Well, he would have thought that had Princess Celestia not suddenly blinked behind him.
Before Skidder could react, she kicks the camera away, and slams it to itty-bitty pieces with her gilded hoof shoes. Skidder could only watch in horror as his best friend's utmost treasure was destroyed before his very eyes.
She glowers over her shoulder and rasps, "Next time I catch you doing something stupid like this, I'll go after whoever had it before." she snorts, "I know it ain't yours, otherwise I'd have stolen it already. See ya, Skidmark." with that haunting threat, she teleports away.
Skidder stared down at his friend's utterly ruined camera, and felt hot tears drip from his eyes, splashing onto the remains. Skidder gritted his teeth, trembled with hatred, screwed his eyes shut, and roared to the heavens, "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CELESTIAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"
The following three snowy weeks were hellish for little Skidder. Featherweight was devastated at Skidder's account of his camera's demise, that camera had been a gift from his passed grandfather. His trademark cheerfulness had slowly waned away, and failed to support Skidder's further descent into hatred.
Cutter began to take notice of his son's darkening disposition, but nothing he did seemed to help, causing his everyday smile to erode in a matter of days. The rising bills did not help either, and he could do nothing but work his tail off to keep the tax-collectors at bay.
Skidder himself grew more and more bitter, and more and more sad. Princess Celestia's "visits" had grown increasingly frequent and increasingly aggressive. Once, she hocked a smelly loogie in his muzzle, and another time, she broke his bedroom window with his body. What made these visits worse, was that Skidder could do absolutely nothing about it. Ever since she destroyed Featherweight's camera and left behind a threat, he had no room to stop any of her bully tactics. It was done, he lost, and that just made him angrier. Skidder only hoped that she would leave him alone on Hearth's Warming Eve. He had enough to deal with on that holiday.
Skidder and Featherweight happened to be partaking in the school's recess. Skidder grumpily kicked at the sand while Featherweight lazily fluttered around a nearby tree.
Skidder rubbed a bandaged spot on his flank, "She's starting to get worse Feather."
Featherweight lightly flapped down next to him, "What do you mean?"
"She's getting more and more violent! Look!" Skidder got to his hooves, and displayed the bandaged area to his friend, "Last night, before she left, she shanked me! She stole my dad's chisel, and shanked me! Look at it!"
The demands to eyeball his rump appeared to have extended beyond Featherweight's ears. A nearby Apple Bloom glanced in his direction, met his eyes, furiously blushed, and shuffled away.
Skidder grimaces and curses, "Well, shi—"
"—nice flank, Blank-Flank! I think I liked your lies better though." Diamond Tiara snarks as she walks by with Silver-Crony. She stops for another shot at the colt whose mounting rage she was clearly oblivious to, "You know, your stories are so hilarious, that you should have a little puppet show! Maybe I can get my dad to finance it, and you'll be seen aaaaalll over Eques—eep!" Her quips were quickly cut off by an enraged Skidder who decided to bowl her over in the sandpit.
He snarled and stood over her, nostrils flaring. "Listen, you stupid twit! Since your mind is obviously too small to tell, I haven't been in the best of moods lately."
"Hey," Silver Spoon cried, "Get off of..." She was quickly shot down by a murderous glare from Skidder. He was going to finish his monologue, and no one would interrupt.
He turns back to the trembling filly beneath him, "Like I said, I do not want to be messed with... now, grab your only 'friend', and get your prissy-perfect attitude the BUCK out of here, because Luna knows I'm not the only one who wants it gone! Make it fast, before I have to DO SOMETHING! Do you HEAR ME?!"
The terrified filly shakily nodded, "Y-y-yes! P-p-please, let me go!"
Skidder feels a hoof on his shoulder. He looks up to see Featherweight frowning and shakes his head disapprovingly. He looks back to the now-crying Diamond Tiara and came upon a startling realization. The situation he placed himself in looked very familiar to one Skidder had been in many times before this past year. Except this time, he was seeing it through the other pony's eyes.
Skidder gave a gargled gasp, and scrambled to get off of Diamond Tiara. She immediately rose to her hooves. Skidder raised a hoof, and attempted to utter, "I-I'm...!" but it was too late. She had already galloped off with Silver Spoon, tears streaming behind her as she wailed. It was also at this time that Skidder noticed the sizable crowd of foals congregating around the spectacle. Skidder also noticed the furious teacher pushing her way through the crowd.
Ms. Cheerilee calls to the horrified colt with a volume that could have split marble, "SKIDDER CARVER, COME HERE THIS INSTANT!"
This was the first time someone had used Skidder's full name in a while, and it usually meant he was in serious trouble. However, the only thing that his mind kept returning to, was the words he couldn't finish. "Sorry..."
Author's Notes:
Well this chapter was a bit heavy, but it was still very fun to write. Anyways, the next and final chapter should be about tomorrow. Don't worry, it will end humorously.
Hope everyone's enjoying it!
A Final Confrontation: Happy Hearth's Warming Eve!
"Skidder Carver, we do not tolerate physically harming, or threatening, other students in any way."
"Yes, Miss Cheerilee, Mam... it won't happen again." the navy blue colt drolly replies.
Cheerilee assumed her position behind her desk, and took a deep breath, "I would imagine so! Anyways, I had Featherweight contact your father... he should be here soon." Skidder's heart sunk in his chest upon the mention of Cutter being dragged from work to deal with an idiotic colt. He is not going to be happy.
Skidder is in a lot of trouble on this particular day. His little altercation with Diamond Tiara during recess had drawn much attention. She ran off crying with Silver Spoon, and Miss Cheerilee had happened to witness the entire spectacle. Skidder had unwittingly found himself in Princess Celestia's place, and he could not have been more sorry for it... but he could not deny that it had felt good at first. After the incident had occurred, Cheerilee sat him in the corner for the remainder of the day, deciding to deal with him after everypony had left.
A few dreary minutes passed, and knocking was finally heard at the schoolhouse's door. Cheerilee straightens up, and calls to the visitor, "Come in, please."
The door creaked open, and in walked a concerned Cutter, still wearing an orange vest that denoted a construction job. Featherweight silently fluttered behind him, apprehension in his wide eyes. He flied outside to give the father, son, and teacher privacy... before assuming a spot in front of the window to spy.
Cutter spotted Skidder avoiding his face, yet Cheerilee had met his eyes. Cutter approaches the teacher with a wide-eyed look at his son, "What happened, Miss Cheerilee? Did my son do something wrong...?"
Cheerilee nodded, "Please, take a seat, Mr. Carver."
Cutter obeys, and tentatively lowers himself into a desk next to Skidder. "What happened?"
"Your son was caught bullying his fellow classmate, Diamond Tiara, in recess today." Cheerilee reveals with a strangely placid expression, as if she were unsure how to proceed with such a situation. It would not be surprising if that were true, considering that Ponyville's schoolhouse is such a tame place. Then again, it is also surprising that nopony has not physically harmed or threatened this particular pink filly as of yet. Either way, the revelation was still quite a shock for Cutter.
Cutter's pupils dilated, and his mouth slowly opened to take a sharp breath, depicting his disbelief. He gaped at his son, "Is this true?"
Skidder looks away, "Yes, Dad."
Cutter closes his mouth, swallows, assumes a stern expression, and looks back at the waiting teacher, "What exactly happened?"
"From what Skidder told me," Cheerilee begins to explain, "Diamond Tiara had been mocking him... again... and that he simply lost control. Skidder knocked her onto the ground, and told her to never make fun of him again or he would, do something." Cutter slowly shook his head, and shot a tired glance at Skidder. "It also seems like he insulted her, to the point of tears, if I might add. Diamond Tiara may have had a bit of history with running her mouth as well, but physical threats are not so easily allowed."
Cutter slumps back into the desk, and rubs his temples with his fetlocks. "Skidder, I know I raised you better than this, and I know, that you know that. So..." Cutter removed his hooves from his face, and delivered a stern gaze towards the cringing son. "...what do you have to say for yourself?"
Skidder did not have to say anything. The tears rolling from his eyes and the whimpers told enough. He spoke after wiping his eyes, nonetheless. "I'm so sorry, D-D-Dad, Miss Cheerilee. I-I-I didn't know what I w-w-was doing! It just... happened. I'm really sorry, I didn't want to h-hurt her!" Then the dam broke, the hair-line fissures spontaneously burst, eliciting a hacking, sobbing flood from the sorrowful colt. Skidder buried his face into his Father's comforting shoulder. Cutter's face barely showed sign of softening as he stroked his son's mane in an attempt to soothe him.
Cheerilee closed her eyes, waiting for the crying to disperese. After a minute or two of thinking, she opened them. "Now... there is the matter of punishment. Skidder had used aggressive, harmful behavior, but since he did not really harm Diamond Tiara, he will be suspended from school tomorrow. Is that understood?"
Cutter nods his head once, and gets up from the desk. Skidder sniffles, and follows suit. "Yes, Mam. I am sorry for Skidder's behavior... and he obviously is too. Have a good afternoon, Miss Cheerilee."
Skidder weakly waves a hoof, "Bye, Miss Cheerilee. I'm sorry...
Cheerilee smiles back and rises to all four hooves, "Thank you, Mr. Carver, and you are forgiven Skidder. Just makes sure you properly apologize to Diamond Tiara." Cheerilee leads the two to the door and opens it for them, letting in the cool blast of winter air. She suddenly straightens up, remembering something. "Oh! Although it's not until tomorrow, Happy Hearth's Warming Eve to the both of you!"
The two immediately sieze in the doorway, similar to the way one would respond if an old, sensitive wound was poked or prodded. Cutter quickly amended this with an, "Mhm, sure." before sharply trotting off through the lightly whipping snow with his son.
Just as Cutter and Skidder passed the frost-covered school fence, a deep voice halted them in their tracks. "Wait! Are you Skidder's father?"
Cutter peered at the voice's owner bound in a luxurious earth-brown snow vest. A light-brown earth pony stallion with a slicked-back dark-brown mane. A pony by the name of Filthy Rich, also known as, Diamond Tiara's father.
Cutter approached the stallion and addressed him respectfully. It tended to be a good idea to address your employer with dignity, he even made sure to use the stallion's preferred name. "Yes, Mr. Rich, I am."
Filthy Rich briefly regarded the apprehensive Skidder, but turned his attention back to Cutter. "Then we need to talk of the matter that transpired between our children. Namely, how to address the repercussions."
Cutter's face showed fleeting dread, but quickly hid it with a grimace. "Yes, sir, I believe that would be most necessary."
"I suppose you have a punishment in mind? I know I plan on one." Skidder felt a sinking feeling in his gut upon overhearing this. His father's job could be gone, all because of him.
Cutter's ears perked up, and an imperceptible look passed over his eyes. "Actually, I do. It's what my father used to do whenever I was in a... similar situation."
Cutter glances at Skidder, before leaning into Filthy Rich's ear to whisper some diabolical plan regarding Skidder's consequences. Filthy Rich nods and smiles after Cutter finishes his explanation. He holds out a hoof to shake, "Very good! That'll do perfectly, Mr. Carver! And once again, I am sorry for my daughter's behavior, I already told her to watch that lip of hers numerous times."
"It's quite alright, Mr. Rich, Skidder knows better than to push or threaten a filly." Cutter returned the hoofshake with vigor, waved, and briskly trotted back towards the snow-covered road that led home. "Come along, Skidder!"
Skidder scrambled to keep pace with his father. Once he reached Cutter, Skidder raised an eyebrow, "So... what happened, Dad?"
"Wash up once we get home," Cutter cryptically replied while keeping his light pace. "we'll be having dinner at Filthy Rich's at six."
"So... you're having dinner with Diamond Tiara's family?" Featherweight asked the prepped Skidder with the slightest bit of nervousness as he hovered over his bed.
Skidder straightened the little crimson tie his dad forced him to wear, making sure it was in line with the white collar. "Yup."
"After you threatened her the very same day..."
Skidder cringed, "Yup."
"I'm not exactly finding the trail of logic here."
"I don't think there is one, Feather."
"Are you done in there?" Cutter called from the ground floor, "We gotta get going soon!"
Skidder galloped down the stairs, followed by Featherweight. He showed himself off to his father who was waiting in a black coat and navy blue tie. Although the only thing Skidder really had to show off was a white collar and tie attachment.
Cutter groaned, "Couldn't you have at least brushed your mane and tail? It looks like a tangled bird's nest!"
Skidder shrugged, "I tried. And look at yours!"
Cutter glanced upwards to see that his carefully brushed mane had returned to a very similar state. Cutter grunted, "Buck it, let's go."
The three walked out the open front door, ready to enjoy a dinner with the Rich's. Featherweight flitted before them, "I gotta get home anyways, good luck with your... punishment? Bye!" and then he buzzed off.
Skidder looks to his father, following the same train of thought his best friend had, "Dad, how exactly is this going to punish me. I'm not saying that it isn't bad to eat an expensive dinner with your capitalist boss for my punishment... it's fine, it's fine... I just don't see the effectiveness of this... so, no manual labor or pain?"
Cutter laughed loudly to his confused son, "Oh, son... the awkwardness will be enough to kill."
"Wut?"
Since Cutter's house was one of the cheapest and least extravagant, it only made sense that his boss, the richest pony in town, had the most expensive and most frivolous. That logic had not failed upon reaching the home of Filthy Rich, who possessed one of the only mansions in Ponyville. Ginormous heights, red bricked columns, and classical architecture were the key features to the abode.
They were immediately greeted upon entering by a handful of butlers and maids. Filthy Rich had waved them all aside, and welcomed the two visitors himself. Behind him stood a frilly-pink-dressed Diamond Tiara that did her best to avoid existing at that particular point in space and time. It was at that moment, where Skidder truly understood the ultimate weapon named Awkwardness, as he felt it ravage any shred of confidence he had before.
It seemed that Filthy Rich understood it as well, judging from the fact that he urged the two foals to, go play nice while the grownups talk about business. The first thought that fired through Skidder's head upon learning he could not avoid the situation was something along the lines of, "Damn you. Damn you all and your fascist regimes."
Diamond Tiara and Skidder were now left alone at the bottom of the staircase, awkwardness freezing them stock-still. The pink filly cleared her throat in an attempt to cut the atmosphere, "So... um, I guess I'll, like, show you my room... or something."
Skidder stolidly replied, "Uh huh." but realized that his father probably would not be too happy if he did not attempt to make any conversation work. "I..!.. uh... bet your room must be huge, I mean, just look at your house. Very, ehm, big..?"
The possible compliment seemed to direct the dialogue towards a better course, judging from the mounds of confidence that placed itself upon the filly from hearing it. Diamond Tiara led Skidder up the staircase with her nose stuck high into the air, "Yes, of course! My room is reaally big, probably bigger and better than any room you'll ever have."
Skidder, however, was focused on something else, "You sure it's a good idea to walk with your head and nose up like that? That doesn't look like an easy way of seeing where you're—"
WHUMP!
As Skidder predicted, she overshot the last step, and fell flat onto her face.
Skidder tutted disapprovingly, "See what you did there? That's why you should look where your hooves are going. And to answer your previous statement, yes, it probably is bigger and better than any room I'll ever have. I'm poor, born poor, probably will stay poor, can't help it right now."
Diamond Tiara blushed in shame at her blunder, but was happy enough that Skidder did not laugh. Although Skidder's answer made her feel a pang of something she felt a long time ago for regarding the low class as she did... guilt... is what it was, she believes.
She traversed the vast, tastefully carpeted hallway lit by crystalline chandeliers with the awed Skidder in tow, and reached a gigantic set of maple double doors emblazoned with her tiara cutie mark. Before Diamond Tiara opened it, she decided to ask a question that she felt no need to ask in a long time. A question regarding empathy. "So... what is it like, being poor?"
Skidder grimaced at the odd question, "I was sorta calling it 'poor' ironically, I don't like to call my life that, because it makes it sound really bad. What it's like...? Uh... it's more like instead of worrying which fancy, rocket-powered-107-speed-bike to get next, you have to worry about whether you can even get a bike in the first place. That analogy sucked, but it works, I guess. I don't know that much anyways, my dad is the one who does all the taxes and political junk. I hear jury duty is blegh, so I'm probably not gonna get involved. I still support this country's democracy, of course."
The pampered filly blinked widely, in mild understanding. Although she seemed to take no notice of his political comments. "Doesn't that... suck?"
Skidder grunts, "Not really. I still eat, I still have a home, I'm still alive. And that's more than enough. That's what my dad always told me when I was an itty-bitty foal. Only real difference between you and me is that you have more expensive versions of those essentials. I suppose you got a cutie mark too, but I don't care much for that. I'll get it when I get it, when I do doesn't matter."
"Never thought about it that way." Diamond Tiara admitted, "Wow. Even the Blank-Flank thing seems lame now."
Skidder yawned and stretched. "Anyways, I'll get right down to it. I'm sorry about what I did in recess. I shouldn't have pushed you... or threatened you... or made you cry."
"Well, I did keep making fun of you," Diamond Tiara muttered, "and you didn't make me cry..! That was... uh.."
Skidder snorted, "No shame in crying. I've cried lots of times when Celestia first started bullying me. Like when she shanked me with my dad's chisel. I cried like a newborn when she left."
Diamond Tiara raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Yeaaahh... about that... why do you keep saying those stories about Princess Celestia? It's gotten really old. I mean, it's been, like, an entire year!"
"Because they aren't stories. Believe me or not, it doesn't matter."
"Okay, because I don't," Diamond Tiara shrugged, "but... I guess you aren't bad... for a Blank—ah, never mind. It always sounded stupid anyways. And... sorry for the way I've been acting. I've been lame."
"Whatever." Skidder replies lackadaisically, "You're not bad either. Again, sorry for doing all that jazz. We all can be stupid, sometimes."
The two laughed, and decided to use the voluminous abode as a setting for a traditional game of hide and seek. It seems that Diamond Tiara decided to forget about awing Skidder with her wealth today, and thought that fun was better.
The father and son were home now. Skidder was resting in his bed, attempting to enter sleep. The rest of the dinner was uneventful, but still incredibly delicious. The entire night was nice though. Skidder may have become Celestia today, but he learned a lot from the pink filly who constantly harassed him. Diamond Tiara seemed to be acting like a prissy, high-class annoyance because she simply knew no other way. It was all she knew, saw, acted, and breathed. While that does not excuse her behavior, it provides a cushioning for an excuse.
However, this still left him with a problem that he had no idea of how to solve. The Princess Celestia issue. She had not been able to make it to the past couple of nights to terrorize him due to diplomatic duties Equestria called for, but she would still come. Skidder needed to find a solution fast, Princess Celestia was tearing his very being apart. Because of her, Skidder nearly bucked a girl in his class simply because of stupid-snarky words.
This was a dangerous path he was being dragged on, and it would only get worse. It's all or nothing, now. The next time Skidder encounters her would be the last. But how would he make it the last.....
Wait!
Yes! This self-ultimatum had inspired a plan of action. To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy! Luckily enough, Skidder had an entire suspended school day to research the copious amounts of history on the Princess. Yes... this is what Skidder thought to himself, he would end it all with knowledge starting tomorrow morning. Oh, and funnily enough, tomorrow was Hearth's Warming Eve.
"So... on your suspended day off that I am deciding to not ground you on... you want to study?" Cutter skeptically asks his son who had an empty Daring Do saddlebag, hungry for books.
"Yup! I'm putting this Celestia junk to rest!"
Cutter exhales and grins, "So you're finally cleaning yourself of these stories?"
"Mhm, sure!" with that, Skidder rushed through the doors, and rushed to the Ponyville library, Golden Oaks Library.
Skidder returned home hours later with a veritable mountain of books on Princess Celestia. He spilled the flood of words upon the dining table, summoning a gasp of horror from the father as the son cackled madly at his literary haul. Skidder stops laughing, sits down, and opens the first book, A General Guide to Your Sun Princess!.
"I have a feeling, that I'm gonna find everything I need here."
Cutter shook his head, and pulled on his hard hat as he began to head out for work, "Just don't burn the house down while I'm gone."
"I'll try!"
2 BOOKS LATER.
Skidder closed the book. "Ok, from what I gathered she's old. Let's see what these other pieces of knowledge have to say about my mortal enemy!"
5 BOOKS LATER.
"Beat up a bunch of monsters... ok."
8 BOOKS LATER.
"Fought in some old war... and she's old."
22.5 BOOKS LATER.
"I don't even know how that Celestia-Vampire-Romance Fanfiction got in there. Oh, and she's old."
30 BOOKS LATER.
CRRRRRRAAAAAASSSSSH!!!! boomed the sound of sixty-six books through a glass window.
"SHE'S OLD, BEATS UP MONSTERS, AND FIGHTS WARS, I GET IT!!!!! The only original thing you stupid books had to offer was the fanfic. THE FANFIC!!! Princess Twilight lied, books aren't your friends, THEY'RE COMMUNIST JERKS!!!"
Skidder trotted back to his station at the dining table and pouted. His entire day was wasted. Again, Hearth's Warming Eve proved awful. These angry thoughts regarding Hearth's Warming Eve slowly glazed his thoughts, until he descended into fitful slumber, with the hateful holiday in mind.
He was having a dream. Well, it was not exactly a dream, more of a memory than anything. It was the same day, except Skidder was with his father in a snowy, wooded area in the mountains. Someone else was there too. A petite mare with a royal blue coat and black mane. A dripping paintbrush on her flanks marked her special talent. Oh, that's right, this was his mother. And this was the day she died.
Skidder saw it all again, the delightful walk. The perfect day. The perfect snow. The perfect parents. And the perfect time to take it all away.
There was the rumble. The great, thunderous rumble that shook the very snow off of the fir trees. The couple have been in the mountains long enough in the years to know what this meant. They all could escape the avalanche on the nearby jutting rock cliff that cut through the snow. With quick movements and Cutter's horn to part the charging snow, they made it to safety. The only cost was the temporarily overheated horn, which would repair itself in a matter of hours.
The family was safe and sound until the mother's superior earth pony ears first heard the wail of a filly. A pink filly was hanging on the end of a tree branch for dear life.
Skidder saw it all in slow motion. Her mother jumped from impossibly small boulder to the next, with the speed and grace of a pegasus. She brought the filly nearly all the way back by the nape of her neck, but she could not stop the wall of snow that had burst over the treetops. She had thrown the filly to safety, using the energy she could have conserved to save herself, on some strange filly.
Finally, he saw her die again. The whole experience returned, but this time, he felt something different instead of rage. Something he had been missing his entire life. Something his mother had felt for everyone. Something he found and needed in the depths of despair: Love. And he found his answer.
That was it! The answer... it was so simple! The solution had been in front of his eyes the entire time! In Featherweight, in his father, and his mother. It's the answer that ponykind has known since the dawn of time, yet the hardest one to follow.
Skidder opened his eyes, satisfied that his search was over. Skidder looked outside the frosted windowpanes to see that it was quite dark now. The enlightened colt then heard the scratching of somepony landing on his rooftop. The colt smiled, and stepped outside. It's time.
"How ya hanging, Skidmark?"
"Celestia, this is it." The Princess put her weight off the chimney to regard Skidder's statement.
The two were on the roof of Skidder's home. It was still a very snowy and bracing Hearth's Warming Eve, but this one would be different for little Skidder. Instead of a night where a wound reopened itself to burn, it would be a night where all hurts would finally heal.
Princess Celestia chuckles, "You mean we finally gonna scrap? I've been waiting for this."
"No," Skidmark firmly denies, "I'll never throw down with you. One reason is obviously because you're a thousand-year-old alicorn who has the power to move the sun whenever she wants, but I'm about to tell you why I won't fight in a long monologue."
"Really?" Celestia saunters to Skidder, and lightly kicks him with her gilded shoe, nearly knocking him off the slippery roof tiles. "Then shoot."
Skidder finds his balance quickly, remembering his mother's incredibly stability, and braces himself against the chimney to prevent any more falls. "Dear Princess Celestia,—"
Celestia did a double-take, "—Wut?"
"Today, I decided this was gonna be the last day I'd let you harass me. So, what I did was get a buttload of books on you to find anything I could use as a weakness against you... you know what I found? That you've fought a lot of wars, monsters, and that you're really old. That gave me nothing. But... I still had to find a way to stop you. Everyday, you take a little piece of me, and leave a gaping hole that fills itself with... something else. I actually ended up acting like you yesterday. I almost beat up a filly that made fun of me.... I made her feel small, and I even made her run off crying like a little foal. I'll be completely honest, that felt really good... having complete power over someone for a little time.."
Celestia smirks, "So even you get it, Skid—"
"—but then... I had a weird empty feeling, that made me wanna hurt again, and for a second I thought the only way to stop it was to keep going, be like you... but I cried instead. After all this, and a dream, I learned something. It wasn't you that did that to me. It was me. My hate. My hate for you, for my mom dying, for Diamond Tiara, for everything! I let it take over everything... and eventually, I almost became you. A—"
"—Shut up." Celestia demands in a nervous, gargleds tone.
"—Monster. Hate makes ponies into monsters. The only way to carry on in life without being a monster is to let all the hate go, and replace it with love, like how my mom loved some random filly enough to die for her. I know you must have a lot of hate built up over the 1000 years you've lived and fought, and that means you've got that weird empty feeling all the time. You've had to lose dozens of ponies you've loved, and it's gonna happen again and again... so that love you had for them became hate... And you use me..."
"—SHUT UP!" Celestia commands in a high-strung panic, nickering back and forth on the roof tiles.
"—so that everypony else doesn't see the monster, only the princess. Why choose me? I don't know. All I know is that I'm going to let go of the hate, and love instead, like my mom and dad want me to. You can mock me, beat me, burn me, kill me, but all you'll have done is hurt a colt who loved you, and I gained it all by lettin' it go. So, go ahead, do what you will. Because in the end—"
"—SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!" the fierce Canterlot Voice parts the clouds and shatters the heavens. Her front hooves rise, and slam down, cracking the the roof's tiles in mere seconds, but non of it can stop Skidder.
"—I'll just keep on loving you. Your Faithful Punching Bag, Skidder Carver."
The Princess froze in place. Princess Celestia's face was a strange mix of many emotions manifest through confused eyes. Understanding, hatred, pain, despair, shame, awe, grim acceptance, and finally, mulling silence that stretched for quite a long time.
When Celestia finally moved, it was to lower her horn towards him, charging an ominous spell... and conjure up a shiny new bicycle, a photo of Applebloom, a Joyboy Advance, and what looked like a large bag of bits, all packaged in a clear glass box. Silent tears ran down the Princess's face like rivers. She stood there, mutely crying, for several minutes.
She sniffs, and tosses her mane. Finally, she breaks the quiet, "You've broken me. You found me, accepted me, and broke me. You understood what nopony could possibly understand. It's going to take some time to let go of the hate... but you're right, and the sad thing is that I've know this my whole life... I just needed somepony... some little colt... to tell me anyways. Thank you... Skidder." The Princess ran forward and swept Skidder up in a large embrace, which he happily returned. Celestia released him, and flew off into the night.
As Princess Celestia soared through the blizzards in the sky, she felt many things. Happiness, empathy, love... and a sharp pain in her sunny flank. She craned her long neck to find that the source of the twinge was a chisel jabbed deep into her plot. She teared and chuckled, "He shanked me! The colt actually bucking shanked me...!... that's wonderful!"
Then a young colt's voice, whose body probably possesses a disheveled black mane and navy blue coat, called over the winds, "HOPE YOU LIKED MY HEARTH'S WARMING EVE GIFT!"
Cutter Carver's boss, Filthy Rich, forced him to take a vacation for work, meaning he returned home early to witness an unbelievable spectacle. Cutter's jaw dropped when he saw the Princess on the roof with Skidder. It dropped even farther when he saw Celestia kicking Skidder. His jaw slowly closed, however, when Skidder's monologue rung true within his heart. Even Cutter had some hatred in his heart towards his beloved wife's death. But... he can let go now, and it took his son for him to realize that.
Maybe he was—scratch that—he was sure that he could go back to his true passion: sculpting. The other artist in his life is gone, but he needs to keep chipping at that marble canvas, with the Skidder she left behind.
Cutter entered the house, and made a beeline for his room. He needed to change out of the frostbitten construction uniform. However... he nearly failed to noticed the midnight blue stranger lying on his bed.
She spat on the floor, ran a hoof through her ethereal mane filled with stars, looked Cutter up and down, and said, "Where you headin' off to, Cut Up?"
,
Author's Notes:
Finished. Finally. Done with my first story, while my long story still has a looong time left. However, I loved Celestia the Bully. It was fun to write, and it was a nice moral which I learned not too long ago. There are some purposefully vague parts, to give room for imagination and thought, I believe it was a good idea.
Hope y'all like the ending! If you thought it was rushed... it wasn't supposed to be long. This is perfect length to me, honestly. BTW, this is for a contest in Christian Bronies.
Happy Hearth's Warming Eve, and Merry Christmas!
(Check out my ONE OTHER STORY :DDD, it's pretty good!)