MLP:FIM Fanfiction
When You Wish Upon a Sue - The Ballad of Mary Sue: Part One
Please Read the Author's Note before the chapter, it's got some useful information
"Week 5, Celestia, Luna and I have been traversing the endless abyss for over a month. The crushing monotony is getting to us all, I am afraid. I feel the hunger of weeks without nourishment, and I know my companions must too. They are Gods, there is no way I could overpower them, I suspect they will soon devour me, lest they succumb to starvation.

I feel insanity is setting in. What are these sensations that dance on the precipice of my unconscious, begging to be brought into corporeality? The sound of a foal's laughter, or the smell of baking bread taunt me so. I know in these brief moments of tranquility about my growing mental instability. However most of the time I am free to wade the waters of madness. How long will it be before my faculties are naught but a sea of worn down cogs and misfiring neurons in the infinite, microscopic complexity of the sentient mind?"

"Celly, do you know where the last piece of plastic is?" Spike was brought from his musings with a jolt as Luna called her sister.

"Of course Lulu, Spike has got it... in fact it looks like he's... OH SPIKE!" Celestia chided upon seeing Spike 'making a diary entry'. He had been scratching his memoirs onto a spare piece of plastic casing for a while now, and this seemed like it might be his last chance to record. As the two Alicorns galloped over, the dragon frantically scratched the words that he strongly suspected might be his last.

"They have turned, the end has arrived. I know not what will lie at the end of my tunnel. Do we not all hope for bright light and unlimited contentment? It is a shame that many of us never get what they are seeking. Death is simply another step in the great equine journey, but I can't help but wonder...will I dream?"

The plastic was wrenched from Spike's hands by a flare of golden sunlight, Spike looked up to see Celestia looming over him. He was ready, he knew the two monarchs would cannibalise him first, turning on their own kin may be too depraved a first step. Celestia began to read his work,

"Hmmm, five weeks...insanity...devour me? For God's sake Spike; we've been here for fourteen minutes," Celestia scoffed. Spike ceased covering his eyes and stood up,

“What…really?” he scoffed, unable to believe the alicorn,

"Yes Spike! Is this because I made you play I spy?" the Sun Goddess snapped,

"Well you can hardly blame me for going insane, you made me play 30 rounds and they were all the word 'Black!'," Spike retorted

"Well Spike I've not really got that much to work with have I?!" Celestia bit back,

"But we've been here sooooooooo loooooooong! It feels like weeeeeeeeks, I wanna go hooooooome!" Spike was still a baby dragon, and so he was occasionally wont to have a tantrum. He fell to the non-existant ground and started to roll like an evil dervish. His arms flailed to and fro, he kicked his legs and flapped his wings; conjuring images of a lobotomised fruit bat. The dragon didn't stop there though, he had to put the icing on the immaturity cake. Prepping his lungs like a reptilian Pavarotti, the drake let out...a noise.

It was a terrible noise, it was the worst noise you, or me, or anyone has ever heard in the history of ever. Some might call it complaining, but no, that doesn't cover even a fraction of the sheer force this noise had. Spike was whining, and oh boy was it annoying. He screeched and screamed and cried violently.

Spike hadn't really had a chance to vent, and, for a baby, the dragon had been remarkably mature about the entire world going spare. However the facade had to crumble at some point. Between Celestia's I-Spy decathlon of record breaking boredom, Luna's attempts to read Japonyese, and the fact that he had recently discovered 'The Ethereal Gateway to Eternity' was a dusty film projector held together with sellotape, he certainly had a lot to whine about.

So he whined, he whined and whined. Then, surprise-surprise, he whined again. This continued until Spike saw that the two princesses weren’t paying him any attention. Big mistake, that wasn’t the only trick Spike had up his sleeve. If they were going to drag him to oblivion only to spend all their time fixing an old film projector, then the dragon was going to make it as hard as possible for them.

So he revealed his secret weapon ...sulking. Spike was sick of everyone and everything, and so the only reasonable thing to do was go and sit in a corner until Celestia or Luna paid him some attention.

It didn't work.

Rather than buckle under the suddenly juvenile dragon's intensive mumbling and ability to sit in a way that was somehow childish, Celestia and Luna decided it was best just to let him stew. And stew he did. Spike remained in a state of suspended animation in the corner. Sort of like a massive white boulder, one that occasionally peeked at the two alicorn's behind him to check if they were paying him the attention he so craved.

"Sister," Luna piped up "We hope the Dragon is OK by himself." Celestia stopped reconnecting wires and pritt-sticking random pieces of plastic together into new, jagged structures to look at her sister.

"Oh Luna, Spike has been through a lot more than you think," Luna visibly relaxed at her sisters words, "I'm sure he's just getting bored. It'll do him good to have a bit of a tantrum anyway; he is a baby after all."

"Yes, you're right, we have no reason to worry," Luna grinned, "It's not like he's going mad over there."

"Day nine, my name is Spike, I think my captors want to eat my flesh, I've seen the white one eyeing my rump frequently..."

Pinkie Pie trotted down the dirt road, her hooves were getting dirty as she stepped in the dirty dirt in her effort to get to the dirt ridden farm of her dirty farmer friend.

Dirt.

Her usual bounce had been cast aside in favour of a more efficient trot. It was a humid day, the muggy weather made all of her moves feel sluggish. It was frustrating, the party-pony needed to get to Sweet Apple Acres and sort this mess out. The only problem was something that took Pinkie completely out of left field.

She had no idea how to get to her cow-pony friend's farm. When you go to a place almost every day, and then realise that you can’t even find it, it hits home pretty fast. Pinkie was no exception here. The party-pony’s mane was ready to deflate by the time she had passed the same building for a fifth time.

Pinkie was a bit like a mobile toy, like one of those annoying robot dog toys that 'dies' unless you feed it. The owner will just set the toy on walk mode and let it roam the house, bumping into everything and scaring the shit out of the family cat. The toy wanders the house aimlessly and cannot get to anywhere unless somepony forcefully directs it to.

That’s what Pinkie Pie was now, a directionless robot, Pinkie just set herself on walk mode every morning and just saw where she ended up. The only time she'd ever been anywhere deliberately, her friends had been with her. She'd just follow them and assume they had a sat-nav. Pinkie just ended up in places, the only way she ever found anywhere was just be walking and hoping she'd bump into the right building.

So to sum up, that's why she was currently freaking everypony out by trotting around in circles, and muttering incoherent, and quite possibly satanic phrases under her breath.

Eventually, after much head-scratching, Pinkie got to someplace useful. However, instead of Applejack’s farm, Pinkie had found the Ponyville Spa.

She immediately had to steady herself against a wall as a harsh wave of buzzing came upon her. Memories shifted rapidly, rearranging themselves over and over. Pinkie finally felt the sensation beginning to dull. The violent mental assault left her slightly disorientated. However she was able to recall one thing. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but for some reason, she had her friends had fought here.

Swaying gently, Pinkie walked to the scene of yesterday's unpleasantness. There was no yellow-tape, now chalk outlines of corpses, no overweight middle aged ponies clutching ‘Tree-Fiddy’ and shouting 'Oh mah Lawd, there were hawses fightin' and everything!'. Nothing to suggest anything other than the normal activities of a quiet village had occurred here earlier.

Well except one thing.

Rainbow Dash was propped up against a nearby tree, hidden from the view of the local markets. It was only Pinkie's keen eyes and creepy ability to smell out her friends which alerted her to the unconscious pegasus. Pinkie carefully began to make her way over to the twitching speedster. The earth pony racked her already warped brains in an attempt to recall why her friend was kind of half dead right now.

"Rainbow, Rainbow, Rainbow?" Pinkie decided that, instead of using her common sense, she would opt to jab her airbourne friend over and over until she woke up. Out of the all the things you want to see after recovering from serious head trauma, the perma-grinning visage of Pinkie rammed into your face probably wasn’t in the top ten. Rainbow Dash was not unusual in her desire not be greeted with a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame upon recovering from a head injury.

"Hmmm? Wha...who....PINKIEOHMYGOD!" Rainbow was brought back gently into our world, and was immediately almost taken right back out again, as her pink friend giggled inanely.

"Drake! Drake, we were able to return the cipher toward her former glory," Luna called out into the black expanse. On cue, a distant dot began to move toward them. Eventually, the bleach white dragon trudged into focus, groggily rubbing his eyes and muttering something presumably obscene.

"Of the many things that thing deserves, a gender is not one of them," Spike spat before unceremoniously plonking himself on the floor before the two princesses.

"Think what you will of her Spike," Celestia began, "But it is by the ethereal gateway's powers that we will show you the story of Mary Sue,"

"This better be good," Spike muttered venomously. The two royal ponies each lifted their heads skyward, summoning a large settee. Spike gave them a sour look.

“What?” Luna asked innocently, “You didn’t expect us to sit on the floor do you?”

“No but…do we really need a sofa?” he cried despairingly, “It just seems like you two aren’t even taking this seriously anymore.”

“Spike, Mary Sue’s story is a long and epic one. It is the story of a Mare’s life, or her rise and fall, or her trials and tribulations. This is no mere parable my friend, this is the very essence of another’s whole existence,” Celestia spoke sagely,

“So…how long is it?” Spike tentatively asked, almost afraid to know the answer now.

“Probably a good hour and a half,”

Spike almost screamed. Celestia’s annoying quips had worn him down so much. He was so tired of this futile banter that he was sorely tempted to play a game of ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with regicide’. But alas, it wasn’t worth it.

Luna patted a place on the settee for him. Even he had to admit, it was very comfortable. In fact, it was tremendously comfortable. The dragon even began to regret he had complained about the furniture’s creation. It was like someone had made a seat out of that one really comfortable hoodie you’ve had for ten years…you know the one…oh yeah.

The film projector, or ‘Shitty McDefective’ as Spike liked to call it, spluttered into life. The contraption wheezed unnervingly. Plumes of dust were sent this way and that, the whole machine shook violently. It sounded very much like it was in pain.

“Wow, this ethereal gateway is the best,” the dragon droned sarcastically.

Suddenly, without any warning, there was a tremendous cracking sound. Spike looked around frantically; the unending blackness around them was melting away, and in its place faint shapes began to appear. Everything was different shades of grey at first, but this began to change. Slowly but surely, the shapes gained colour and definition. The scene around them came into focus, and they were surrounded by a bustling medieval market place.

"Impressed with the Ethereal Gateway to Eternity yet Spike?" Celestia asked smugly.

"At least I don't have a fat, misshapen plot," Spike muttered acidly

"What was that," Celestia enquired absentmindedly

"Nothing my Queen," Spike trilled in response. Their back and forth, despite being rich in liquid comedy goodness, was interrupted by Luna.

"Shush! Look," the lunar alicorn thrust a silver clad hoof forward, gesturing to an unremarkable pony eyeing up a stall-owner's produce. She was an Earth pony, she looked a couple of years younger than Twilight. She had a bright red mane and a creme coloured coat. A parchment and quill cutie mark completed the mare's image, and there was nothing to say on top of that. She looked like the most average of the average, and if Luna hadn't pointed her out, Spike would have never paid her any attention.

The focus of the scene around them zoomed forward to focus on the mare. Spike almost leapt out of his seat, the sudden focus change was abrupt and disorientating to say the least. Luna patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, whilst Celestia unceremoniously snorted with laughter at his plight.

"I know which princess is getting some anthrax this hearth's warming eve," Spike thought to himself.

However all thoughts of malice were interrupted, as the unremarkable mare began to speak to stall owner.

"Your food is looking great today Mr. Shakesworthy,"

"Why thank-you Mary Sue, head of lettuce and two apples is it?" he asked in a pleasant voice.

"Just like always," Mary Sue beamed. She was in voice as she was in appearance, unremarkable. Aside from her noticeable cheerfulness her voice was really nothing to write home about, just the absolute average. Mary Sue handed over some bits and bode the merchant farewell.

"Oh and Mary," he called after her, she turned back "If your drunken father doesn't pay my family soon I'll be over to break his legs," Mary shuffled nervously,

"Hahaha," the stallion gave a hearty laugh, "No but seriously we'll kill him... bye Mary!"

"Bye...Mr Shakesworthy," Mary Sue sighed, and began to trudge away from the marketplace.

"What was that guy's problem?" Spike asked incredulously.

"If our memory serves correct, you'll see now," Luna replied, seeming suddenly displeased.

"Hello father," the scene had jumped forward, and Mary Sue arrived home. The state of housing must have been very shoddy over a thousand years ago, as Mary's 'House' was nothing more than a glorified hut. There was only one room, with a rudimentary kitchen, a couple of windows with no glass, and what one would hope was a toilet. The most striking thing about the residence was the fact that although there was two of everything, there was a stark contrast in quality.

There was a plush bed, and then next to it was a moth eaten rag with a wooden block in place of a pillow. There was an ornate writing desk, and a rubbish homemade one with at least fifteen exposed nails in it. There was a solid oak wardrobe and then a box with some clothes thrown into it. Finally there was a large, comfortable looking chair, and next to it was what looked like a piece of parchment with a childish drawing of a chair.

Sat on the more comfortable chair, although compared to the alternative it could justifiably be called a throne, was a shabby, unwashed stallion. He was balding, but what remained of his mane was brown, just like his coat. He was an earth pony just like Mary Sue. In his hoof was a tankard of ale, and surrounding him were numerous empty glass bottles.

"Mary Sue, where have you been?" he asked absentmindedly.

"I was out at the market father, I got us some tea," Mary made her way over to the table and emptied the contents of her basket. "Two apples and a nice large head of lettuce," she said with a forced smile. The mare suddenly realised that being on her feet all day had taken it out of her. With a stretch of her legs out and a sigh, she went to go and sit in her ‘Chair’. Her father got out of his seat with noticeable effort before going to inspect his daughter’s shopping at the table.

"Ah, good work my daughter, and what are you having?" Mary looked at him, and he looked back. This intense back and forth carried on for a few seconds before she spoke.

"Father, what do you mean?"

"Well," he began "I'm having two apples and some lettuce, so what are you having?" Mary Sue's shoulders slumped disappointedly.

"Father, I bought this for the both of us,"

"Oh, well that's a shame. By the way I need you to go out and get me some more ale except you have to buy it out your own money," Anyone would have thought he was joking by now, surely nopony could get away with being such a... well a dick for lack of a more elegant term. However Mary Sue just sighed,

"Okay father,"

"That a girl," he grinned and rubbed her mane affectionately. An act that only served to mess up her hair and strew it with dirt. "You look just like your mum, do you know that?" Mary smiled slightly at that sentiment. "Remember Mary, the mum that I cheat on, the one that left because I kept cheating on her? Remember, the cheating? Do you remember the cheating? Yeah you remember," Mary Sue did not smile at that sentiment. She sighed again and trotted morosely over to the wardrobe.

“Ahem, Mary use your wardrobe.” Her father called. Mary Sue’s shoulders slumped for the umpteenth time, and she walked over to the shabby box full of rags. After regarding her moth eaten scarf for a second, she turned to her overweight dad.

“Father, it’s ever so cold. Could I not wear your scarf? It is much better than mine,”

“Mary,” the stallion immediately cut her off, “Don’t be so selfish, what if I get cold in here? Try to think of others,” he gently reprimanded his daughter as one would a foal with a hoof in the biscuit tin.

The red maned mare’s eye twitched. For a moment it looked as if she was going to say something, but alas she did not. She turned to leave and her father blew her a kiss.

"Remember Mary, be quick,"

"Yes Father," Now alone, Mary's father smiled contentedly,

"She's a good kid, and I'm her whole world. God, imagine if she didn't have me, she'd fall to pieces." With a chuckle the stallion began to tuck into his meal, not paying any thought to his daughter; the pony who was now out by herself in the freezing medieval night.

Rarity had been sat for a good few minutes...just staring.

Not at nothing mind you, she hadn't gone completely crazy just yet, oh no, Rarity was looking at a drawing. It had seemed so right at the time, and now it was making her feel sick. It was a picture of all of her friends, beaten and bloodied and… just lying there. In the centre of that massive circle of death, stood Rarity. At least, a drawing of Rarity.

Next to her was a vacant spot, it was clear somepony was supposed to be standing there. That was the issue. When the fiercely salivating fashionista had finished her creepy, borderline-psychotic art, she had realised something.

Rarity had no idea why she was drawing something so awful. Everything had seemed so right when she started, she had been furious at her friends. She'd wanted them to get hurt.

She'd wanted to hurt them.

And then, when it came to add the final character to of Rarity's 'Ode to Murder' she had simply slumped, and realised nothing made sense. The purple-maned unicorn could only vaguely remember an argument outside the spa. She remembered shouting, screaming, shrieking, wailing, hollering, exclaiming, and at one point she could swear somepony had said something antisemitic.

However, no matter how many times she tried, how many times she banged her head against the wall or racked her brains, Rarity just couldn't remember. There was only a white blur, and the faint sound of buzzing.

The frustration got to her, with a surge of magic to her horn, the offending picture ignited in flames. The paper curled and its ends flickered, releasing simmering embers that died into ash before fluttering to the floor. Like they never existed at all.
Rarity turned away from the crackling art and suppressed a sob, she had been truly beastly to her friends. The unicorn didn't even want to consider the possibility that they wouldn't take her back. She'd have nopony, she'd have to leave Ponyville, she'd have to get a job in manual labour, she'd have to cease taking three baths a day.

"Fuck dat noise bro!" Rarity thought to herself, seriously she'd rather just put a bullet in her brain that go through any of that. With a new resolve, a steely determination and a hat that brought out the blue in her eyes like nobody's business, Rarity set out to make amends.

With a flare of sapphire tinted magic, the door to Carousel Boutique was opened and an elegant white pony pranced outside. Even when a cold sense of worry and dread was eating her up inside, Rarity still managed to look good.

"OK, now, first I shall find Twilight, then I'll..." the unicorn trailed off. It looked like this was going to be easier than she first thought. Because sat outside the carousel boutique, facing the wall with a cardboard box beside her was none other than Twilight Sparkle.

“Erm, hello there…Twilight?” Rarity approached tentatively, thoroughly ready for a tongue lashing. For her part, Twilight simply sat there still staring at a wall. The fashionista was suspicious her friend had slipped into a coma until a tiny voice was heard.

“I… I was so angry. I wanted to…I hated you all. And I don’t even remember why.” Twilight hung her head. Rarity was about to reassure the bookworm, but in an instant Twilight had teleported to Rarity’s hooves.

“I’m so sorry Rarity, I don’t remember why we argued but let’s never argue again and-”

“Twilight wait! You’re telling me you can’t remember why we fought?” Twilight considered what Rarity had said with a small sniffle.

“Yes, why?” the librarian queried.

“Darling, I’m exactly the same!” Rarity cried, upon hearing this Twilight’s mouth fell open. She jumped back onto her hooves and the two immediately began sharing their respective stories of amnesiac rage.

“I was so angry,” Twilight lamented, “I went to the shop, bought…some stuff, and went home. After that Rarity, I managed to come to my senses and came here to…erm…apologise.” Rarity listened sympathetically as Twilight explained.

“I came back to the boutique,” Rarity decided to confess also, “Drew a…well I did some things and then when I too came to my senses. I decided to apologise to you all dear. That is why I came out here, I was going to find you all” Her momentary slip didn’t go unnoticed by Twilight, who immediately leapt onto it and tore it apart like the ruthless pedant she was.

“Drew a what, Rarity?”

“Oh, it was… erm, well you know just…fashion and dresses. You really wouldn’t be interested,” The white pony tried to splutter out a believable excuse. Despite her best intentions though, Rarity came out as believable and trustworthy sounding as a serial killer trying to convince the police he’s innocent while carrying a Tesco bag full of his victim’s heads.

“Rarity,” Twilight chided sternly.

“OK! I drew a picture of you all lying bloodied, battered and broken while I stood amidst your bodies!” Rarity shouted out the confession and almost burst into tears. “I’m so sorry Twilight, I was just so angry and…I saw the paper and…” the desperate pony was interrupted by a lavender hoof on her shoulder.

“It’s OK Rarity, but you really shouldn’t deal with your anger so…unpleasantly,” Rarity failed to suppress a tear of relief this time. She threw her hooves around Twilight and scooped her up in a crushing hug.

“Oh thank-you dearest Twilight! I promise I won’t act so brutish in the future.” The seamstress was so relieved to get her feelings out. It was certainly better than the traditional pony way of just bottling your troubles up before finally necking back a bottle of whiskey and getting the noose out…God bless Equestria.

Rarity savoured the hug, the feeling of her friends coat against her face was comforting, and so Rarity snuggled deeper into Twilight’s neck in an affectionate nuzzle. The contact, coupled with Twilight’s forgiveness put Rarity’s wrought mind at rest. The two held the contact for a minute or so, before Twilight began to shuffle away tentatively.

“Do you think we should maybe find the others Rarity?” Twilight gently suggested, not wanting to further upset her friend.
“Oh, yes darling of course,” Rarity gave a small sniffle before summoning a handkerchief to dab her eyes slightly. “Forgive me dear, it’s been a positively wretched day,”

“You don’t have to say sorry Rarity,” Twilight reassured, before turning to go and seek out the rest of her friends. However, she was stopped dead in her tracks by the voice of the fashionista behind her.

“Say Twilight, whatever were you doing sat out here by yourself anyway? And what do you have in that box?” No sooner had the words left the white unicorn’s mouth had Twilight teleported behind her. Before she even knew what was happening; Rarity found herself being pushed up the road by a panicky looking bookworm.

“Twilight! What are you doing? This is not ladylike!” the seamstress cried.

“We don’t have time to stand around Rarity, we have to find the others!” Twilight exclaimed desperately,

“I only asked what was in the bo-"

“FORGET ABOUT THE BOX!” Twilight shrieked piercingly. The two unicorns continued this bizarre dance of push and shove up the road. Twilight didn’t listen to any of Rarity’s protests, she was just glad the white pony hadn’t discovered the box’s contents.

Twilight hadn’t dealt with her anger so well either. Rarity may have drawn something, but Twilight had taken things one step further. In fairness, after committing her deed, Twilight had realised her folly and was just about to knock and Rarity’s door to apologise.

Still, the librarian would much rather get everyone to make friends again before confessing her crime to Rarity. It would be hard to explain several cans of spray paint in the box, and even harder to explain the new addition of ‘Rarity is a whore’ that now adorned the carousel boutique.

“What the heck is this guy’s problem?” Spike roared whilst gesturing to the image of Mary Sue’s fat, unkempt father.

“This guy,” Luna began, “Is Mary Sue’s father Drake. He is called Chestnut Sue, and he was a chestnut mogul five years before the events we now witness.” Spike blinked,

“What is a chestnut mogul?” Spike asked after being baffled by the bizarre job description.

“To put it in laypony’s terms Spike, Mary Sue’s father was a very important pony in the chestnut business. He was bringing in close to 50 bits a year,”

“50 Bits?” Spike questioned, clearly unimpressed, “Just the other week Twilight spent fifty bits on a signed copy of Daring Do, 50 bits a year is not impressive,” Spike folded his arms across his rippling golden chest.

“Spike, in Mary Sue’s time, 50 bits was a phenomenal amount. That could let you live like a king for a year. With 50 bits you would want for nothing.” Said Celestia,

“Then why do they have a drawing in place of furniture?” the dragon queried,

“Well Drake,” Luna began, “The stallion was greedy and proud. One night, he lay with a lowly scullery maid. The mare became with foal, and the shame of the whole ordeal ended the father’s career. The mother tried her best to stay with the father to bring up their filly, however the stallion was frequently unfaithful. Eventually the mother could take it no more and left. The life you see now is a result of Chestnut losing his job and his partner. Mary Sue worked as a clerk to pay for her father’s alcoholism.

Instead of helping his daughter, Chestnut used his life savings to lavishly furnish their house. He bought himself an expensive chair, a beautiful writing desk and an luxurious bed. He did not buy anything for Mary Sue Spike, which is why she has a rag for her bed, and a drawing for her chair.”

“Wow,” Spike let out a shaky breath, “That’s a horrible story,”

“Indeed,” Luna muttered grimly.

“Do not begrudge him too much Spike,” Celestia added, “His actions are not born from a desire to hurt. Chestnut Sue is not an evil pony despite what we just saw. His problem is his utter stupidity. He simply can’t grasp that other ponies have troubles and that not everything is about him. Chestnut truly believes his daughter loves him more than anything, and he does love her back. I suppose, in his own tin-pot way, the stallion sought to do well. It’s just the good he meant to do was the polar opposite to what anypony would consider even remotely acceptable.” Spike blinked a couple of times,

“Yeah… but he’s still an arsehole,” the white dragon spat,

“That he is Spike,” Celestia agreed. Normally she would have chided the baby dragon for his use of coarse language. However, considering what the trio had just seen, the sun-goddess decided the term was more than acceptable, if not required.

Luna’s horn flared once again, and on cue images began to conjure in front of them. The pictures focused and unfocused sporadically until they all decided on a rhythm. The graphics all settled and formed a new scene; giving the trio, once again, a window to the past.

Mary Sue was being blasted with a fierce, frigid wind. Snow whipped around her mane, it stuck in her coat and dyed her body white. Every few seconds, the poor mare would have to stop and shake herself clean lest she become a snow-pony.

Mary Sue fought against the wind to get to the marketplace she had been only an hour ago. Once she arrived she found, to her dismay, each stall was closed for the night. A harsh sigh escaped Mary Sue’s lips, she’d have to go to the tavern.

She hated the tavern.

The tavern had a regular crowd of Mares and Stallions. You were either in or you were out, and Mary Sue was most definitely out. When you turn eighteen, you could either celebrate with your friends or at the tavern, if you didn’t go to the tavern then you weren’t one of them.

The Earth pony turned and began to walk towards the ramshackle building. Outside hung a sign that read ‘Ye Olde Pub’. The lights were on and there was a faint sound of music from inside. Mary got to the door before taking a deep breath. With a single, crème hoof, she pushed.

Immediately, all eyes fell on her. The musicians stopped playing, all activity ceased, and nopony made a sound. The drunken revelry that was happening but a second ago had been replaced by a sea of unfriendly glares directed squarely at Mary Sue. She nervously began to trot to the bar, the earth pony took great care in not bumping into anypony, and in not knocking over anyone's drinks. She came into this bar with all of her teeth, and leaving with them was her current plan.

“Erm…can I have some Ale please?” The landlord eyed her for a good few seconds, before grumbling,

“Sure, it’s two pence a bottle.” Mary Sue nodded and quickly fished around in her saddlebag. She felt her stomach drop when she only found four bronze coins.

“Okay…could I have two bottles?” The stallion nodded and grabbed two green glass bottles of ale. Mary Sue handed over the money, and began to trot out of the pub. The blizzard had intensified, and she now found herself almost toppling over in the harsh, winter winds.

The mare started the journey back home. Maybe the fact that she got him some ale would mean her father would be a bit more considerate, even if it was just for tonight.

The earth pony scoffed at the thought, Mary Sue had never been a very good liar.

“Father, I’m back,” the red-maned pony called out. The room was dark, and there was a sound of snoring.
“Oh thank Celest-” Mary Sue was immediately cut off by her father sitting bolt upright and turning to his daughter.

“Hahaha!” He cackled with uncontrollable laughter, “I got you Mary. God, I bet you were so disappointed thinking I was asleep. Well don’t worry, I’m wide awake which means you won’t have to get bored. You can listen to my drunken ramblings all night!”

Mary Sue listened to what her father had to say. When he was done, she forced a smile on her face. The action was so artificial it looked almost painful.

“So…did you get my ale?” Chestnut got straight to the point. He gave his daughter an intense glare while she shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes father but…I was only able to get two bottles,” Mary Sue’s father stopped in his tracks, he gave her a piercing glare. This carried on for a few seconds before he spoke.

“Are you joking, is this your idea of a joke Mary Sue? Because I can tell you now, it’s not very funny.” The stallion’s daughter kept her eyes on the ground.

“No father, it’s just…I buy you ale every night, as well as all of our food. I mean, it’s hard to pay for all of this on a clerk’s wage. Maybe if you wanted more ale, you could get a job and…” the mare trailed off when she saw her father’s disappointed face.

“Oh Mary,” he sighed, “I suppose it’s not all your fault. I mean it was I who raised you to be such a self-centred, prideful little mare. Actually on second thought it was your mother. So it is really yours and your mother’s fault. Oh Celestia why do I have to have it so hard?” Chestnut stopped his musings and trotted over to his daughter.

“Mary, I have a solution to our problems, and by that I mean your laziness, that I’ve been mulling over for a while,” Mary looked up at her dad, the mare’s eyes filled with a fleeting look of hope. It didn’t last long.

“I’ve decided you’re going to quit your job as a clerk and become either a thief, drug-dealer or a prostitute. And, being the generous, sexy and totally-not impotent stallion I am, I’ve decided to let you choose which.” The mare didn’t answer her father, her jaw had hit the floor. Oblivious to his daughter’s shock, Chestnut continued.

“I would personally suggest prostitute, I’ve heard it makes the most money…actually forget the whole choice thing…You’re going to be a prostitute Mary, aren’t you happy about that? Isn’t that great?!” Mary Sue was visibly shaking now, it seemed like her rage had become difficult to contain.

“Father…I don’t think-”

“Now before you say no, I want you to know the only alternative is for me to get a job. Is that really OK? I think that going to work the street corners to pay for my drinking habit is only fair Mary. I mean come on? I hope you don’t want me to get a job. God I knew you were selfish but come on Mary, that’s not fair on anypony. I’ll tell you, your mother was always telling me to get a job, remember the one that I cheat on Mary, do you remember Mary, the cheating that I did, on your Mother? Remember the cheating Mary?”

Mary had swallowed enough, she turned to her father and slapped him across the face…hard. Chestnut reeled for a moment before regaining his composure. His eyes slowly came up to meet his daughter’s, head on. He fixed her with a vehement glower while his breath quickened. A hoof tensed, as if ready to strike at any given moment. He clip-clopped slowly over to Mary Sue, drawing out the action and increasing the already oppressive tension in the room.

Finally, the two ponies were close enough together that their snouts were touching in a fiery display of mutual defiance. After what seemed like hours, the stallion opened his mouth, and said but a single sentence…

“Seriously though Mary do you remember the cheating?”

“AAAHHHHH!” Mary threw her hooves in the air and shouted. Her father’s eyes widened as he watched the volcanic display of a decade of oestrogen-soaked repression. The Mare finished her ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ battle cry and looked at her father, hoping the act had rattled some common sense into his thick, oblivious skull. The pony in question looked at his daughter with a wide-eyed mix of confusion and surprise.

“So is that a maybe on the whole prostitute thing?” Mary immediately turned and left, afraid that she may kill her father if left in that room for much longer. For his part, Chestnut merely chuckled,

“Hah, PMS is hilarious,” with a self-satisfied sigh, he went to root around in his daughter’s saddle bags to get his ale. Returning to his chair, Chestnut gave a tremendous yawn and began to sip his drink contentedly.

Mary Sue grumbled. Once again the wind was whipping at her mane. The hair was chewed on by the blizzard, with its strands being compacted and dampened by the harsh, white flakes. Her coat was also receiving its fair share of snow. Despite the numbing cold, Mary Sue did not shake the snow from her body. She did not shield her eyes against the wind, she did not try to find shelter. Mary Sue did none of these things, she did not know where she was going and she didn’t care.

In fact, the red-maned pony’s only aim was to drift until she was able to stomach the thought of going back home or found somewhere preferable. And with how Chestnut had been, Mary would have even taken an open sewer over another night with her self-obsessed lout of a father.

Unfortunately, one pony’s seething rage could never be hot enough to quell a blizzard, especially one of a strong as this. Mary trotted over to a house, it gave her no protection from the cold but it shielded her body from the freezing winds.
Mary Sue sat. There was a frozen puddle in front of her, and in it, was the image of a bedraggled earth pony. The pony in the ice had a crème coat and a red mane, and she was crying. Mary had never wanted to end up like this, she had wanted to go to grammar school, maybe she could have been a statesman, or a physician.

Anything would have been better than where she found herself now, working tirelessly to fund her father’s drinking habit, taking his verbal assaults, rolling his drunken body onto its side to prevent him from slipping away in the night. The mare’s face contorted in rage and she punched the frozen puddle as hard as she could.

A sharp pain shot up her foreleg and the ice smashed. She felt no better. Punching that puddle had served no purpose other than to harm her hoof.

“Stop! Stop thief!” a gruff voice brought her out of her self-pity/hate session. Mary cocked her head up and squinted against the hazy night. She could just about make out a mare running away from two royal guards, and they were all heading this way. The mare was carrying a small bag, and it was jingling.

She’d stolen somepony’s bits, somepony had worked for those and this mare had stolen them. Suddenly Mary just felt it all, the years of indignity and injustice. The raw unfairness of her situation, and now this mare had stolen something that wasn’t hers.

Whys should she? Why the hell should this pony get away with exploiting somepony? Why the bucking hell should this conceited thief be allowed to create yet another injustice in this world.

The short answer was, she shouldn't, and she wouldn't. Mary Sue wasn't going to let her.
The group were closer now, it was evident that they were going to pass her by, and it was also evident that they hadn’t noticed her. Mary Sue used this to her advantage. She coiled like a spring, every muscle and nerve was primed and ready, she would spring and attack within a second.

The mare ran past, and Mary Sue jumped her. Like a superhero, she stretched out both forelegs and leapt into the air in an antagonistic swan dive. The force and shock knocked the thieving pony right off her hooves. She and Mary Sue collapsed into a bundle. In the fracas, Mary was able to get on top of the criminal and pin her legs to the ground. The thief was a dark gray pegasus mare, she had a deep cobalt blue mane as well as striking red eyes. And speaking of her eyes, they were now locked with Mary Sue's. Each mare glared at the other, one looking triumphant, the other merely confused.

The guards came to a skidding halt a few metres behind them. Both stallions were totally dumbfounded by this new development in their chase. Mary turned to them,

“I’ve got her,” the earth pony managed to choke out in-between heavy breaths. The two stallions looked at each other, and then at Mary Sue again. There was one Lunar Guard, and one Solar one, and both looked quite perplexed at the sudden events. Finally, the Lunar Stallion looked at his comrade and let out a rich, hearty laugh.

“Well well well my friend. It seems this regular mare has caught the Blue-Tail Bandit,”

“Indeed,” the other pony agreed, “And to think, we’ve been trying for months.” The Lunar Stallion put a hoof on Mary Sue’s shoulder and gently guided her off her captive. His fellow guardspony put a pair of shining cuffs on the pegasus’ hooves and roughly dragged her to a standing position.

Mary Sue turned to leave but was stopped by the two stallions, they immediately rushed over and turned her around rather forcefully.

“Don’t go miss, you have just caught one of the most infamous thieves around. It has been said that ol’ Blue tail here can steal even the most closely guarded treasure…and you get her when she’s simply nicking a purse!” Both stallions began to laugh again.

For her part, Mary Sue simply looked around nervously. She still couldn’t tell whether the guards were happy or upset with her. The thief Mary had caught was glowering at her while grinding her teeth menacingly.
Hold on…Mary Sue had just caught a thief.

The red-maned pony suddenly had to process that information again. It was just a reckless act in the heat of the moment…and now she had caught an infamous crook? This was too much to handle. Mary Sue piped up meekly,

“Erm…I’m glad I could help…I’ll probably just be going home now-”

“Oh no miss!” the lunar stallion cried, “The princesses have been ordering us to catch this one for months, she managed to steal some of the royal jewellery,”

“You must have fallen far if you’ve resorted to purse napping,” The solar stallion jeered. The cuffed-criminal muttered something inaudible, however it seemed to have rhymed with ‘Mucking Hunt’.

“My point is,” the lunar guard continued, “The Princesses will want to see you personally,”

“The princesses?!” Mary Sue exclaimed, her pupils dilating with excitement at the prospect of meeting royalty.
“Oh yes,” said the guard, “In fact, I would wager they’d like to reward you personally,”

“What could the princesses give me? I’m just a simple clerk, I know nothing of culture or art or politics. Any great gift would be wasted on me,” Mary Sue explained, earning the insult of ‘suck-up’ from the thief pony.

“My dear miss,” The solar stallion sauntered up to Mary Sue and slung a hoof around one of her shoulders, “What do you know of boons?”

Author's Notes:

Right then, after a lukewarm response I decided to simply scrap the chapter and re-edit it. I have fixed it up as best as I can, and I hope that people enjoy it. However I would ask you two bear in mind that the next chapter is 'The Ballad of Mary Sue - Part Two'. If there's something that you don't understand in this chapter, chances are it will be explained in the next.
A lot of this chapter takes place in the past, and so I have put these flashbacks in italic.

Edits:
I've scrapped the more outlandish humour.
I've cut it down in various areas to make the story more concise and to limit the amount of needless prose.
Fixed some spelling/grammatical errors.