My day at Canterlot High is a pretty standard fanfare, and by that I mean boring as hell! It's almost exhausting to pretend to have as much enthusiasm for the work as the other students.

Sometimes I envy idiots. It would be nice if my experience could be as genuinely positive as theirs is.

But, alas, it just isn't challenging enough for me to get a kick out of it. Not even close. I know this stuff already. Why do I have to repeat it? I feel like an old lady who got youthened to a teenager again and has to repeat that which she’s already experienced.

Many times I also have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from correcting the so-called “teachers.”

But what else can I expect? When the blind lead the blind, straight-forward progress is very unlikely, and it is exhausting (not to mention unpopular) to correct humanity's every mistake so I learn to wave it off. That's just how the world works and I need to get used to it.

Sunset Shimmer's classes are a rare exception to this rule. Not only is her subject matter pretty interesting, but she presents it in a very engaging way. She actually challenges her students' perspective by showing them there are different ways of looking at things. Her science classes are especially interesting to me. What she shows and how she shows it is borderline magical.

There is no doubt in my mind that she would have been accused of witchcraft two centuries ago (with good cause in this case, I might add), but that would be such a shame. If they had burned her at the stake, then they would have missed out on the overwhelming value she had to offer to society.

We are so lucky to have a Professor like her working on our campus.

I notice, as I look around at my other fellow students in her classes, that they are often leaning forward in their seats as they eagerly learn what she has to offer.

While most of my academic pursuits are so easy that they are a yawn-fest, I really do fall into a typical category of nerdy-girl syndrome when it comes to physical education. I may not find them too engaging, but at least they are a challenge for me.

Indeed, too challenging.

That likely has to do with my struggle to control my blood sugar level and my asthma. When my heart rate increases too much due to physical stress, my body goes haywire in multiple ways. After having a seizure twice because of it, the doctors finally decided to give me a note to waive my academic credit for physical education entirely.

But I was not quite ready to give up on physical education, at least not certain components of it.

In fact, it was my idea to approach the Cheerleading squad during my freshman year. I was interested at the time because it seemed like a girly thing to do and it seemed like fun physical exercise.

My biggest motive for trying out for the squad was because they were popular and they knew how to manipulate a crowd. I thought they might have something to teach me on that regard so that I could get even better at it, but one look at their acrobatic flips I saw them do during tryouts left me thinking, “Nope! Not happening! I am outta here! See ya never!”

They didn't even get to my turn before I walked out on them.

Lesson learned. There are just some things I cannot do.

I did, however, apply and successfully attended the swimming classes. I already had my permission to waive physical education in my hands so nobody was forcing me to do this, but I applied for this class anyway because I wanted to. Even then I tend to keep my physical activity on the down-low and nobody complains about that since they are aware of my physical handicaps.

Although some of the girls in class had made fun of me about my physical handicaps behind my back. It wasn't a complaint, it was simply a source of amusement for them.

But that's okay! I don't get mad. I get even, and boy did I ever!

The best part of it is, they don't even know it was me. I have a reputation to protect, after all. I can't afford my perception of being sweet and cuddly to be damaged.

Nevertheless, the lesson they had learned probably traumatizes them to even think about making fun of me anymore or anyone else in a similar situation.

But I digress.

Since I have much less weight in the water, it's easier to push myself to greater extremes than I normally would.

In retrospect, now that I'm aware that my pony counterpart is a pegasus, I wonder if that's another reason I enjoy swimming so much. That's one of the few places in the world where I can kind of give gravity the middle finger.

I'm really proud of my contribution to the swim classes as well because I was the main one pushing for the installation of the pool into the school. I was the one who started a giant fund-raising campaign to help pay for the project.

I even went to City Hall to petition my case there, and I was successful. I raised a lot of money on the side to help fund the project.

Obviously I was not alone in this. My mother and many of her friends helped out as well, and they did it with their typical song and dance that helped sway the crowd like a bunch of mindless sheep, but hey! I won't argue with the results.

Actually, I loved them for it.

A lot of people who followed me on that project were excited about that. That was because I was showing them exactly how to make big dreams come true.

There is a process to it, like fine art. It mostly has to do with being charismatic enough to sway the opinions of a mass amount of people, but it also has to do with being smart and approaching the right people, in the smart kind of way, who know how to open doors for me.

Once we got started on the actual construction of the pool, it took three months. There were a lot of volunteers for the project, too, who donated labor and/or resources to help make this dream project a reality.

Once it was done, the whole town had a big celebration about it. There was a great big feast, bands playing, big clouds of party confetti covered all over town. Most of the festivities occurred in Central Park and the school itself, but several streets got closed that day due to marching bands.

Let's just say that I wasn't the only one grinning from ear to ear. That day was a big accomplishment for me and all those who chose to follow me.

I probably would have gotten my cutie mark on that day if I was a pony in Horse-Land.

During lunch and after school I attend a few meetings where I participate in my official duties as Student Council President, and that's the only part of my day that is less than ordinary. The reason being is two of my senior staff members, the Secretary of Record Keeping (Scribble Dee) and the Secretary of Treasury (Diamond Tiara) are both absent today. Not only that, but my Secretary of Public Relations, Silver Spoon, is also quite absent-minded today. During our meetings, I catch her quite a number of times just typing away on her cellphone and not paying heed to anything else the rest of us are saying at the table.

I made a mental note to myself to check on those messages of hers later on in order to find out why my staff meetings are less important to her.

The reason I can do that is because I got her phone bugged with a virus that clones most of her cellphone information to a mirror database I have in the cloud. As to the reason that virus is there, it came with a certain text message I sent to her, and many others, a long time ago.

I'm pretty proud of it, too, because it hardly takes up any data or battery energy to maintain itself because that program only activates once a day for a few seconds to two minutes in order to update the mirror database. As a result, it's very hard to discover. It's like a secret digital ninja hiding in the shadows for me and occasionally sending me information with a messenger hawk.

Once that information is copied to the cloud, I can sift through her personal information at my leisure.

Tactics like this are very useful for me to gather intel on others so that I can use that information to manipulate or outright blackmail people into servitude, willing or not.

And that is why I have spies and servants everywhere. Not just in this school, but in many places in town.

I learned, on that day, that Scribble Dee is actually sick, but she wisely delegates some of her workload to others and she also has us record our meetings using one of our cellphones so we can send it to her later. After that, she will type up all the important stuff. I could tell that Scribble Dee is indeed trying the best she can under the circumstance so I don't fault her at all.

As for Little Miss Prissy, this isn't the first meeting she's been absent from. In fact, she's been missing a bunch of classes and entire days at school lately. The reason seems to be building anxiety and depression, and a pretty severe case of it at that. To my knowledge, she is not getting the help she needs with that, not even with her so-called “friend”.

I ask Silver Spoon what is eating Diamond Tiara lately while simultaneously making it very clear that her negligence of school and duties is not acceptable behavior for a senior member of my staff.

In response, Silver Spoon looks up at me from her cellphone, gives a careless shrug, and said, “I don't know. I'm not her babysitter.”

I sigh as I realize that, once again, there is Trouble in Paradise between these two.

At first I am tempted to call it a fight between them, but I gradually realize, as I continue to monitor Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara in various ways (not all of which are legal), that Silver Spoon truly doesn't know what is wrong with her former friend. Silver tries to act careless about it, but the truth is the exact opposite, in my estimation.

I calculate a sixty-seven percent chance that Diamond Tiara yelled at Silver at some recent point that she wants to be left alone and for everyone else to get OUT OF HER BUSINESS!

Secretly, the sadistic side of me that loathes Diamond Tiara partially enjoys the misery she is suffering from lately, but most of me feels empty about it because I had no hand in this whole affair.

Whatever Diamond Tiara's current problem is, it's stemming from something other than me, and that bothers me a lot.

I realize, as I sit alone in my private office at the end of the day in my swivel chair (rank has its privileges) while looking out the open window on my wall, that I am facing a very strong ironic situation here. I want Diamond Tiara's soul to be crushed into dust, but I want it to be done by my hands and I want her to know that it is me who will ruin her life.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this situation? I got half of my wish. Diamond Tiara's soul is crushed right now, but my current problem is the fact I can’t take credit for it. This is not the perfect revenge that I’ve been building up to and it’s pissing me off!

Lately I have read the secret text messages, sent to me via multiple spies I have on campus, that say Little Miss Prissy is a practicing member of bulimia nervosa in the girl's bathroom. On my command, some of them even took videos or pictures of her in the act, so I know for a fact that the rumors are true. Little Miss Prissy is having psychological issues that at least partially stems from low self-esteem and body image.

I sigh as I steeple my fingers and press them close to my lips.

What the hell am I going to do with you, Little Miss Prissy? Your behavior lately in my office would be grounds enough to fire you if this was an actual work environment, but I want you close so I can monitor you. As the old saying goes, keep your “friends” close and your enemies closer.

But, at this rate, you are liable to quit on your own accord. It may not be official, but that's the way you are already acting.

I can see the trends. I've studied you for years, though I doubt you know it.

Grrrr! I fucking HATE you, Little Miss Prissy! I've spent years accumulating my resources just so that I could smite you with all the fury and power of Hell. So many years I spent dreaming and savoring your inevitable destruction, but then you went ahead and pulled the trigger on yourself.

What am I supposed to do now? I had BIG plans for you, and you all but ruined it without even realizing it.

Must I hold your hand and build you back up again just to get the opportunity to tear you down? Really?! Is that what our lives have come to?

You’re such a pain in my ass, but I suppose that isn’t really something new to me.

It makes me sick to my stomach how nice I had to pretend to be to you in all the time we have known each other, but now it seems you're starting to force my hand one step further.

It's true that I am legally obligated to render assistance if a member of my staff starts suffering medical problems, but the problem is the method I used to attain that information must be kept secret. You don't know that I know what's going on with you, or at least I possess partial knowledge of your situation. Better to say I have evidence of your problems but without knowing why you have these problems.

When I find out who has been causing you misery, I don't know if I'm going to want to shake their hands or fucking strangle them.

Silver has been off her game as well lately, but I have a partial understanding of her situation. She's concerned for her “friend” but Diamond is pushing Silver back for some reason, perhaps out of fear of Silver was getting too close to the truth. Maybe Diamond is also trying to protect her “friend” from the tragedies that she's suffering from.

That's a common symptom of depression, the belief that it must be faced alone. That suggests some level of humiliation, but I can't quite put my finger on that yet.

What the hell is your problem, Little Miss Prissy? You can have anything you ever want handed to you on a silver platter and served to you with a literal and figurative silver spoon. You never had to fight to earn anything in all of your goddamn life! I, meanwhile, had to struggle to climb myself out of the gutters. How you make me sick!

I am interrupted from my train of thought by a knock on my door. In response, I swivel my chair to face the door. I pause for a brief moment to regather my composure. I'm the leader of these people, so I can't let them see the storm cloud above my head. Besides, I can't afford to reveal any evidence of my true agendas either.

“Come in!” I bade when I repaired my bright, happy, and innocent mask.

I learned that I have to deal with a meeting of a girl named Sunflower Seeds because Silver Spoon, who should have handled this meeting instead, just up and left without saying a word. Now I'm down three staff members today, goddamn it, so I'm one of the few left who can address Sunflower's issues.

When Sunflower steps into my office, it takes me all of two seconds to size her up and realize, with an inward groan, what this is all about. Clearly, judging from her attire, poise, decorations, and mannerism, I'm going to have to deal with some hippy-dippy bullshit!

For the record, I have no problem with environmental activists. The planet is important, and we should do our part to take care of it.

The problem here comes when these people just whine and complain about how much life sucks, as if I didn't know that already, while not proposing any viable solution to fix it. She does have a few ideas how to handle it to her very thin credit but, unfortunately, they are retarded ideas that did nothing to realistically weigh the cost/benefit analysis in her favor. Instead, she drones on and on about why I should care and proposes a few ideas that could have a chance to work but it requires a vast expenditure of resources with the promise of very little return.

And this bitch just doesn't shut up! While she rambles on with a bunch of worthless babble, I keep nodding and smiling. I lean forward on my seat and do my best to pretend to be interested. She bought my performance so I personally thought I should win an Academy Award for my act considering how disinterested I actually am.

I keep checking the time on the upper corner of my augmented reality glasses as the prattle continues. After five minutes of this, I finally decide that enough is enough! If I don't do something to shut her up, then this might continue for half an hour.

I can respect her passion at least. I know it comes from the heart, but I really do hate wasting my time with meaningless chatter.

Sunflower Seeds, is it? Hmm. I'll do some digging to see what her weaknesses are.

Under my desk, I secretly twist my right wrist sharply to the right. The very same wrist that wore a bracelet that is designed to monitor muscle movement of my wrist and hand via electrical impulses. Because of that, a virtual hand secretly materializes in the perception of my augment reality glasses. Using that, I navigate and type information as long as that hand happens to be free. This greatly accelerates my digital management process without having to rely on the limited function of eye movement tracking all the time. Besides, Sunflower is openly observing my eyes right now. She'd notice if my eyes started looking all over the place for apparently no reason, but I maintain solid eye contact with her while typing away at an invisible keyboard with my hidden free hand.

While I continue to sit there and nod like an idiot, I secretly look her up on the internet. I check Facebook first and cross-reference it with any address local to this town. Within six seconds I got a hit. I compare her profile picture on Facebook with her face right in front of me and discover that they match.

Bingo!

So for the next several minutes I sift through her blogs and posts.

It turns out I was right about her hobbies as an “active” environmentalist, but what catches my interest is her Facebook status on relationships which read, “Complicated”. That piques my interest, so I did some checking and discovered that “Captain Planet” here had herself a boyfriend that she later broke up with fairly recently because she suspected him of cheating on her.

At first I respect her for making that decision, thinking to myself, “Good for you, Missy! You don't need some man in your life to be strong and validated. You can be perfectly happy on your own.”

But, as I read on, I later discover she got back together with him even more recently but she is still concerned that he might cheat on her again.

I feel like rolling my eyes as I think to myself, “Of course. Silly me for underestimating human stupidity yet again.”

Still, my research gives me an idea. I look for her phone number on her Facebook profile and, sure enough, the bitch lists it in public view of the whole goddamn world.

Well great! That just makes my job easier, you stupid cunt! You could have given me an actual challenge, but nooooooooooo. You had to just give it all away.

I am a cracker. I would have found a way through your defenses eventually, but this just means I can get you out of my way all the sooner. Thank badness!

Using the information I have collected on her, I decide to send her an anonymous text message which warns her that her boyfriend has been caught cheating on her right now. I even sent her his correct location, which is information I manage to gain when comparing his name with my secret records of student profiles on campus and discover which classroom he's in right now.

I didn't specify which girl he is cheating with. I'll leave that to Sunflower's overly active imagination. That will cover my bases better rather than giving any specific and potentially suspicious details, which is also why I give her my message anonymously. If she discovers this information is false, she won't know who to blame.

On the other hand, if she accepts it as true, then I might have done her a favor by helping her to terminate (again) a toxic relationship for her.

She should thank me. I’m probably doing her a favor right now.

But either way, I'll finally get her out of my hair.

I narrow my eyes at her slightly in smug victory when I observe her noticing the vibration on her cellphone.

She checks the message on her phone and, sure enough, that shut her up. She looks up at me as if silently debating something. The reason for this meeting is important to her, but I calculate an escalating odds that the message on her phone is something that would bother her more the longer she tries to deny it.

“Um . . .” Sunflower said in an uncomfortable voice. I also notice her fidgeting. I know she can't get it out of her mind. My spark has been set in her flammable mind and it's spreading like wildfire. Oh, it's so beautiful to behold! I know that she knows that if her boyfriend is cheating on her right now, she has a limited opportunity to verify it. She can't afford to waste her time with me, nor my time with her, if she has a limited opportunity to confirm her worst fears.

“Is something wrong?” I ask oh so sweetly. “I'm here for you if you need me. I care about every one of the students here in Canterlot High.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said with a bit of a smile but it is short lived.

I continue to smile at her sweetly while secretly thinking, Buh-bye, bitch! See you next never.

“I, um . . .” She gets up. “I'm sorry. I . . . I have to go.” She starts to turn to leave.

“Wait!” I call out to her in fake concern. “You waited months to get this meeting. Are you sure you want to leave so soon? You may not get another chance for several months because my staff and I are so busy helping out so many other students. I know how important this project is to you, and I want to prove to you that my campaign promises are not a lie. When I said I'd be here for the students, I really meant it. Please sit down again and share with me all of your problems and concerns. I want to help. That's what I'm here for.”

She looks back at me, clearly torn. For a brief moment I grow nervous that I miscalculated and that she would actually sit back down again. Despite my clandestine attempts to get rid of her, I want to look like a hero while doing it, but if my words actually manage to persuade her to stay then my devious plan has backfired on me. Maybe I did go too far to convince her to stay. Perhaps I shouldn't have underestimated how important these issues are to her.

“I, um . . .” She turns to face me again. For a brief moment I almost panic inwardly.

Then she bows to me, Japanese style.

“I'm so sorry for wasting your time. Thank you for this wonderful opportunity.”

I inwardly sigh in relief.

“Well, if you insist.” I shrug at her. “It seems to me that, whatever that text message was, is very important. If this is a family emergency or anything like that then you absolutely have my permission to pursue it. Do whatever you feel is important.

“It seems obvious to me that you will always live by that dedication and passion. Maybe this meeting is mostly fruitless, but don't give up! Keep at it. Follow your dreams. With the level of dedication I see in you, I'm sure you can make any dream of yours a reality eventually.”

“I thank you most sincerely for your kind words,” Sunflower said as she rose from her bow.

“You’re welcome!” I say with a bright smile. “Now run along, Simba,” I say outwardly, then think inwardly, “and never return!”

“I will.” She leaves for the door. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.” I continue to hold my happy, fake smile until she closes the door, then I drop my eyelids halfway as I regard the door drolly.

Baka.

I swipe two baoding balls off of my desk as I twist my chair about towards my window again. I lean back in my seat a bit. I rest my right elbow on the right arm of my chair and place my pointer finger on my chin and my thumb gently below the right side of my jaw. Meanwhile I shift the two baoding balls on my left hand round and round to help me think.

I really am cursed to be surrounded by such idiots. Man oh man, that was aggravating!

I receive a digital text message in my glasses that reports that Sunflower Seeds's cellphone has just had my digital virus successfully planted in it as an additional consequence of opening my anonymous text message a moment ago. I get another message that asks where I would like to put her name. Using my right hand, I hover my virtual hand on her name then drag it to a folder called “Idiots.”

After I deposit her name there, it dawns on me that I may need to start organizing the “Idiots” folder soon because it's getting pretty crowded in there, and there are plenty of ways to do it.

One thing I have learned while growing up as a member of this repulsive species is that there are many types, depths, and combinations of stupidity. Each is fairly unique in it’s own way, but that does not mean I can't organize it into subfolders. I just need to take the time to do it eventually, but right now I don't have the patience. That encounter literally gave me a headache.

In an attempt to recover from this trying ordeal, I try to think about the two most important people in my life that I have very different problems with: Diamond Tiara and my mother.

Little Miss Prissy has been just . . . broken lately. I don't know why she is that way, but it bothers me. I spent too long struggling to craft my perfect revenge for her, and if there's one thing I can say about myself, it's that I'm a natural perfectionist. I really take the time and effort to get things just right.

My mother can well sympathize with that too, although she has been much more patient with that lately. I guess that just comes with the territory of being a mother.

Speaking of my mother, I have her to deal with as well or, more specifically, her pony counterpart.

Between these two issues, I'm far more concerned with this Princess Twilight Sparkle anomaly because this can have far reaching consequences. If I had to choose between my plans for revenge and protecting my relationship with my mother then I'd choose my mother every single time. Without mother, I'd lose my most valuable resources I've gathered to use against Little Miss Prissy anyway.

I'd rather protect what I have now instead of avenging the loss I suffered before. As much as it pains me to admit this, the past is in the past. The future, however, is ahead of me. I need to make sure that it is as bright as possible.

Just then I get a text message from one of my many informants on campus. This informant is responding to my Shadow Queen persona, not Cozy Glow. I keep those two identities separate in order to keep Cozy's reputation spotless.

I use my virtual hand to point at the message then click it. The message then opens and displays in front of me.

I read it, then I become intrigued.

Really? Sweetie Belle has been asking around about Diamond Tiara's fate lately? Why? What's her stake in this? From the intel I have gathered so far, Sweetie Belle should be relieved that Diamond has been absent lately. It means one less bully is around for Sweetie to suffer.

I swipe a finger across the message in order to close it. The baoding balls in my left hand rotate faster. I think harder.

This is a very unexpected development, and potentially quite fortuitous for me. I've been debating how to handle Little Miss Prissy's problem, but Sweetie might just do it for me.

If Sweetie continues to investigate this issue, then I'm going to have to monitor her progress much more carefully. I might even send a drone or two out to her house to plant bugs in it so I can eavesdrop on her future conversations. I certainly need to monitor Sweetie's text messages for the next few days at least.

But the part I don't get is . . . why? Why does Sweetie care? What's in it for her?

Hmm. Maybe the answer is staring me right in the face. From what I can tell of Sweetie, she lives up to her name quite well. By all trustworthy accounts, she really is quite the sweetheart. That makes me feel all gushy inside . . . if it's true.

Some people are just naturally like that. Some want to watch the world burn, like me, and others just want to help because they genuinely care for people.

Their reasons are irrelevant.

Nice people are very easy to exploit. They practically hand themselves out on a silver platter.

“Well . . . this is unexpected,” I say aloud. “But not wholly unwelcome. Find out everything you can, Sweetie Belle, then report it back to me. One way or another, I shall know what you know.”

I rock back and forth in my chair idly.

Thanks to this unexpected development, my problems on this front might be temporarily solved. All I have to do is monitor Sweetie's progress. I can't plan on my next move until I gather more intel, and naive little Sweetie might unwittingly do my work for me.

God bless you, Sweetie Belle! You're doing a good thing, and there is a seventy-five percent chance that you are doing it for good reasons. I may not care much for your motives at this time and I certainly despise your target, but you . . . I may have to think of a suitable reward for you if you manage to help me uncover some information on my nemesis. I can be a very strict Shadow Queen when I have to be, but I also always keep an eye on useful pawns. Mark my words, if they serve me well, I shall reward useful assets. Perhaps I'll upgrade you to a Knight if you make it to the other end of the chessboard.

In the meantime, while you take care of that for me, I can fully turn my attention to my Horse-Land problem.