“Welcome one and all, to this glorious show! Prepare to be amazed by the wonderful powers and magic of the one, the only, the Great and Powerful…”

Hobo.

There wasn’t much else you could call Trixie now as she sat outside her small, magically-assembled shack built out of scrap wood she found. The shack, poor in design and weak in materials, constantly required Trixie to rebuild on a regular basis, gathering spare sticks lying about finish assembling her makeshift, but functional, twig-built housing. This was obviously below her, but despite her boasting she honestly had no choice anymore; after about five months of travelling around from town to town she realized that nobody wanted to see her spectacles anymore.

“You’re not the kind of mare we want in our show tonight.”

“We don’t have room for your act.”

“Go. Just go.”

The memories danced like mocking parasprites in her head, laughing at her misfortune and misery; rejection after rejection, obviously influenced by her show in Ponyville. Her hooves stomped, venting her frustration on what could have been valuable twigs for her new home.

Nearby the hut lay her hat and cape, torn and dirty. The large rip down the side of the cape told a story of a weary unicorn fighting a tall oak tree, unwilling to divulge its newfound treasure. Wind and rain had assaulted her throughout her endeavor. The sound of ripping cloth had not been pleasing to Trixie’s ears as she made one final pull to release her precious cloak.

The holes in the hat told a different tale; a tale of thorns and, for Trixie, many cuts. While the cape had suffered a branch, the hat found perched just out of reach atop a taunting thorn bush. Dealing with this had taken much longer for her, time appearing to slow down in her fight with the beast of a plant.

“Give Trixie her hat, you ugly bush!” she cried, pulling against the thorn bush with her levitation spell, her efforts being halted by the tight grip the bush had on it. It seemed like forever until she had been able to retrieve it.

The road beside her remained barren and dark, the night rapidly approaching. Only the light of her magic kept her vision from going black. The shadows before her waved limply with the fluctuating brightness coming from her horn, pulling strings tighter and boards into their proper arrangement. Her eyes were in a tight squint, fatigue and the cold eating away at her magic. She watched as the ropes fell into perfect knots, and smiled at the extending shadows and increase in light.

Wait, more light?

Trixie’s first thought was that her magnificence as a magician was glowing, but even she couldn’t keep up that level of ego for long. Her curiosity besting her, the showmare spun on her heels into a combat pose, only to find a single stallion standing before her.

“What do you want with The Great and Powerful Trixie? Can you not see that I am completing my… sleeping arrangements?” she blared towards the lamp-holding stallion before her. It probably wasn’t that great an idea to be threatening him as she was, but Trixie’s pride didn’t allow her to come to any other conclusions.

The stallion set his lamp down and smirked. A small chuckle escaped his lips, which sent Trixie into an inner rage. Her supply of common sense was strong enough to prevent her from attacking her new acquaintance, but it didn’t prevent her from yelling more.

“You… you’re laughing? And for what reason? Are the shadows of the trees making puppet shows for you? Well, even if they were they fail in comparison to the shadow puppet show that The Great and Powerful Trixie could perform, but that is the only possibility that comes to her mind. Stop your chuckling and explain your reasoning for hovering over Trixie. Are you a fan of her or something? If you are, I am not signing anything for…”

“You really don’t know when to shut up, now do ya?”

What? But… what? How dare he be so abrasive and speak to her in such a tone! Nopony should have the guts, neigh, the gall to perform such a heinous act to her greatness.

“Look here, miss Trixie, I’m not going to repeat myself. You are on my property; these woods are not public land. If you’d like to sleep here, you’d better have something to offer, or I’m going to have you dragged out of here.”

“Your land? But Trixie has seen no stakes for property lines, no signs, no…”

At this, the stallion stamped his hoof to garner her attention and, after acquiring it, directed it towards a sign hanging nearly of view. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a glare at the stallion, Trixie walked over to stand before it. The colt shuffled behind her, gripping the lantern in his teeth again. As the light covered the sign, Trixie could make out red-painted letters.

Cash Crop’s Private Property; No Trespassing.

“Now, who’s been trespassing on my land?” asked the stallion, who Trixie assumed was Cash Crop.

“Hmmph. You should feel honored that The Great and Powerful Trixie even set foot upon your farmland. You should thank her.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know who you think YOU are, but I’m well aware of who I happen to be. I’m Cash Crop, a farmer, and I don’t enjoy having people trespass on my property. Now, why don’t you do yourself a favor and scamper off before this conversation goes south?”

Trixie was tempted to protest more, as she always was, but his size, and the fact that he was scraping the dirt menacingly with his hoof told her that would be unwise. With this, the unicorn let him have one last dirty glare before wandering into the pitch black, putting the last of her magic into making a brighter light with her horn.

It was time for Trixie to find another stage.