Tugged Heartstrings and Ballot Drops
by R5h
Enterprise—Economy—Equestria
Polomare for Governor
The Honest Manehattanite’s Choice
Mosely Orange for Governor!
Bon Bon and Lyra—or rather, since they were on duty, Agent Drops and Agent Heartstrings of SMILE—stared at the dueling posters on the Manehattan alley wall.
Posters like this had sprung up all around Manehattan in the aftermath of Governor Crowhop’s resignation in the terrible Forty Cakes Scandal, but these two were by far the most common. They could hardly be more of a contrast. Suri Polomare, frozen in paper, stared out dramatically into the distance over a field of light pink, looking like a motivational poster. Mosely Orange, by contrast, was surrounded by warm orange tones, and smiling toward the viewer of the poster in a way that was probably supposed to be approachable.
Agent Drops, dressed in her agent tux, scrutinized them both with the kind of stare usually used in interrogations. I know what you are, that stare said, and you can’t fool me by playing nice—
“They seem nice!” Agent Heartstrings said, dressed in a matching tux.
Agent Drops startled, and looked toward her companion with a disbelieving expression. “No, Agent Heartstrings, we’ve been over this! Suri Polomare is only trying to become governor so she can dismiss the plagiarism charges against her fashion company! SMILE can’t allow her anywhere near the levers of power! She is not nice!”
Agent Heartstrings shrugged. “Could have fooled me.”
Agent Drops smacked her hoof against her face.
“So what about the other guy, the one we want to win?” Agent Heartstrings tilted her head to the side, looking at the poster. “Is he nice?”
“Well,” Agent Drops began, “Mosely Apple is a stand-up pony. He’s a generous donator to charity, he’s publicly agreed with some of Princess Twilight’s tax reform proposals, and he’s even related to an Element of Harmony. He would be an excellent fit for the job.”
“Oh.” Agent Heartstrings paused a moment. “But is he nice?”
“… he’s kind of a jerk,” Drops admitted. “Not on purpose or anything, he just has no idea how to talk to ponies without sounding really condescending. Which means he’s currently polling about twenty points behind Polomare, with the election two months away.”
“So we have to do something,” Heartstrings finished. “I propose we—”
“Infiltrate the Polomare campaign, hypnotize Suri into causing an even bigger cake scandal, and escape, mindwiping anyone who noticed us along the way?” Drops finished. “I like the way you think, Agent Heartstrings.”
“Uh,” Heartstrings said, peering over at her friend. “Or. We could. Talk to this Orange guy and maybe give him some tips on how to talk to ponies.”
Drops frowned, and rubbed her chin. “It’s so crazy, it might just work.”
–
“Tips on how to talk to ponies?” Mosely Orange chortled after he said it, cupping a hoof to his mouth (insofar as hooves could be cupped). “My dear mare, with all due respect, I don’t think you have your hoof on the pulse of the common pony as much as I do. They love detailed explanations about income brackets!”
Agents Drops and Heartstrings blinked in unison. “Well,” Agent Heartstrings said, “yes, that is a very interesting and important subject, but maybe you could talk about, like… where you’re from? Things you like? Anything that makes you seem more like the common pony?”
Another chortle. “Would you want any old regular pony from the street to be governor?” Mosely snorted, and gestured around at the penthouse they were all sitting in. “The whole point is that the position goes to the best pony for it, not just any old pony. And with my short twenty-nine point presentation on the tax code, I’m sure the common pony will see that I am that best pony.”
Agent Drops repressed a groan, barely. “What about attack ads? That weasel Polomare has been going after you like crazy, and you’re not even fighting back! Listen to this!”
She turned on the radio on the nearby coffee table with a smack of her hoof, and right on cue, the unctuous, friendly tones of Suri Polomare issued forth.
“And I gotta say, that Mosely Orange, where did he get his money, anyway? I hear he’s got ties to the Apple Family, he doesn’t even deny it, m’kay? Just another one of those elite snobs, looking down on us regular folk who, sure, maybe glanced at other fashion designers’ notes once or twice, and now they’re trying to tell us that’s illegal or something—”
Mosely reached over and switched the radio off with another tap, just as Polomare’s audience started to applaud. “I will not stoop to the level of such vulgarity. This will be an honest campaign, because honesty is what Manehattan wants for, now more than ever.” He stood, and a butler appeared to escort Heartstrings and Drops out. “Thank you for your time, my dears, but I’m confident that honest facts will win the day, with no need for dirty tricks.”
–
“Well, he’s screwed,” Agent Drops said, after the elevator ride down. There was a Polomare poster across from her in the penthouse elevator, and she stared at it like she was trying to set it on fire.
“It’s not looking great,” Agent Heartstrings admitted. “I think maybe we should—”
“Do the hypnosis plan right away,” Agent Drops finished, yanking Agent Heartstrings out of the elevator as the doors open. “Totally on board, bestie!”
–
“Hello!” Bon Bon said—it could be just ‘Bon Bon’ right now since this counted as undercover, they’d taken off the tuxedos and everything. “My bestie Lyra and I wanted to apply to knock on doors for the Polomare campaign!”
She had to speak up: the easiest way to find the Polomare campaign had been at a Polomare rally. Suri’s voice was the loudest thing there, and the cheering crowd was the second loudest thing.
“And let me tell you, those ponies from Ponyville, they think they know so much better than you just because the Princess thinks they’re special, m’kay? You can’t trust any of em. I hear they’ve even got changelings in Ponyville now, and that’s the kind of pony that Mosely Orange, I call him Only Mostly Orange, because he’s got a lot of yellow on him too—”
“Sounds good,” said the pony in front of Lyra and Bon Bon, wearing a ‘Polomare for Governor’ shirt. “Lemme just grab the campaign managers.”
Bon Bon snickered as he trotted away. “You’ve got the hypnosis device?” she whispered to Lyra.
Lyra reached into her saddlebag and levitated out the little cylinder. “I’m still not sure about this,” she muttered.
“What do you mean? It’ll be easy! We just hypnotize whoever these campaign managers are, and—”
“Good heavens, brother! Is that a genuine, bona fide SMILE hypnosis device?”
“Why yes it is indeed, brother! And that must be Agent Sweetie Drops, also from our erstwhile organization!”
Lyra jolted up at the two strongly accented voices—she wasn’t sure what the accent even was, just that it was strong—and dropped her magical hold on the device. Only for it to be picked up by another unicorn’s glowing blue aura—one of two unicorns, yellow ponies with flat hats, bowties, and suspenders.
“Well, Flim, isn’t this an intriguing situation!” said the smirking Flam.
“Two ponies from the secret service trying to sneak into our campaign, Flim, for doubtless nefarious purposes!” the grinning Flim agreed.
“Could be a scandal!”
“Could make headlines!”
“Could propel the Polomare campaign to a landslide victory!”
“What?” Lyra yanked the cylinder back with her magic. “No, uh, this is a prescription sleep aid, look—” She pointed the device at her face and turned it on. Her jaw went slack and her eyes unfocused. “I am getting very sleepy….”
The brothers Flim and Flam blinked. Bon Bon glared at them as politely as she could. “Well, lovely talking with you,” she forced out, biting back her venom at the two turncoat agents from years back. “Good luck with your campaign!” She took Lyra and guided her away from the two of them, without too much difficulty.
Flim snorted. “By the looks of things, Agent Drops, you’re the one who needs the luck!”
–
“Those utter weasels!” Agent Drops fumed, once Lyra had shaken off the effects of the device. “I should have known there was a reason SMILE couldn’t deal with the campaign earlier, it’s being run by a pair of ex-agents! We won’t get within a mile of them now!”
Agent Heartstrings frowned. “Well… I think we should still try my idea—”
“We tried the hypnosis thing!”
“My actual idea, which you haven’t heard yet,” Heartstrings continued testily, “which is that we try to help ponies understand that Mosely Orange is actually a nice guy and a really good choice? Show ponies a better version of him than the one Suri is telling them about?”
Drops’ eyes went wide. “That’s it!”
“Yes, that is it—”
–
“We just needed a better version of Mosely Orange!” Bon Bon declared proudly from behind the stage.
Agent Heartstrings facehooved. “Bon Bon, no….”
“I love apple pie and the Horse-Yankees!” declared the Mosely Orange on stage in front of them. “My political opinions are uncomplicated and agree with whatever you already believe! And I will happily kiss your baby and/or have an apple cider with you!”
The crowd cheered. Bon Bon let out a little groan of pleasure as, speech over, ‘Mosely Orange’ came backstage… and transformed back into her original changeling form.
“How’d I do?” she asked, eyes bright.
“I can feel the points coming in,” Agent Drops replied, beaming. “Good work, Deputized Agent Ocellus. This’ll change the polls for sure.”
“Thanks! I guess it’s just good they don’t know I’m a changeling impersonating the real candidate in a scheme to swing the election,” she said. “Anyway, totally unrelated where should I put this mini microphone?”
Heartstrings blinked. “What wire?”
“The one those two guys gave for me to wear!” Ocellus pulled it out of her carapcace and held it proudly aloft. “The guys with the hats and bowties. They said it would be better for the acoustics.”
Agent Drops blinked. Then she darted forward to peer out from behind the curtains.
The audience stared blankly at the podium.
“They worked for you, right?” said the loud voice of Ocellus over the speakers. “Anyway, where did you want me to put this?”
–
“We’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re so screwed,” Agent Drops sobbed.
It was the final town hall debate, a week before the election. Suri Polomare was tearing Mosely Orange so many new ones that he was starting to resemble a fishing net, and Agents Drops and Heartstrings were stuck in the audience watching it happen.
“You don’t even talk like a normal pony!” she was saying. “Say y’all.”
Mosely cleared his throat. “You all.”
“See!?” she exclaimed, as the crowd jeered.
“I’m out of dirty tricks,” Agent Drops sighed. “It’s all over.”
She felt a hoof on her shoulder, and looked up into Lyra’s face. “Not yet,” Agent Heartstrings said, eyes shining. She stood up and raised a hoof. “Excuse me! I have a question for the candidates!”
The spotlights focused on her. “Yes?” Suri asked.
“To both of you.”
[[Scene in which Lyra gets Mosely Orange to say something honest and stirring that gets the crowd on his side, and Polomare reveals herself to be a callous heartless capitalist, turning the crowd against her.]]
“Well?” Lyra said, sitting back down and grinning at Bon Bon. “Maybe we didn’t need dirty tricks after all, huh?”
Bon Bon stared at her, eyes wide. “It’s so crazy,” she said, “it might just work.”
They hugged.
–
TRIXIE LULAMOON DEFEATS POLOMARE, ORANGE
WRITE IN CAMPAIGN COMES OUT OF NOWHERE
Bon Bon and Lyra stared at the newspaper headlines. “We’re so fired,” Bon Bon said.
Polomare for Governor
The Honest Manehattanite’s Choice
Mosely Orange for Governor!
Bon Bon and Lyra—or rather, since they were on duty, Agent Drops and Agent Heartstrings of SMILE—stared at the dueling posters on the Manehattan alley wall.
Posters like this had sprung up all around Manehattan in the aftermath of Governor Crowhop’s resignation in the terrible Forty Cakes Scandal, but these two were by far the most common. They could hardly be more of a contrast. Suri Polomare, frozen in paper, stared out dramatically into the distance over a field of light pink, looking like a motivational poster. Mosely Orange, by contrast, was surrounded by warm orange tones, and smiling toward the viewer of the poster in a way that was probably supposed to be approachable.
Agent Drops, dressed in her agent tux, scrutinized them both with the kind of stare usually used in interrogations. I know what you are, that stare said, and you can’t fool me by playing nice—
“They seem nice!” Agent Heartstrings said, dressed in a matching tux.
Agent Drops startled, and looked toward her companion with a disbelieving expression. “No, Agent Heartstrings, we’ve been over this! Suri Polomare is only trying to become governor so she can dismiss the plagiarism charges against her fashion company! SMILE can’t allow her anywhere near the levers of power! She is not nice!”
Agent Heartstrings shrugged. “Could have fooled me.”
Agent Drops smacked her hoof against her face.
“So what about the other guy, the one we want to win?” Agent Heartstrings tilted her head to the side, looking at the poster. “Is he nice?”
“Well,” Agent Drops began, “Mosely Apple is a stand-up pony. He’s a generous donator to charity, he’s publicly agreed with some of Princess Twilight’s tax reform proposals, and he’s even related to an Element of Harmony. He would be an excellent fit for the job.”
“Oh.” Agent Heartstrings paused a moment. “But is he nice?”
“… he’s kind of a jerk,” Drops admitted. “Not on purpose or anything, he just has no idea how to talk to ponies without sounding really condescending. Which means he’s currently polling about twenty points behind Polomare, with the election two months away.”
“So we have to do something,” Heartstrings finished. “I propose we—”
“Infiltrate the Polomare campaign, hypnotize Suri into causing an even bigger cake scandal, and escape, mindwiping anyone who noticed us along the way?” Drops finished. “I like the way you think, Agent Heartstrings.”
“Uh,” Heartstrings said, peering over at her friend. “Or. We could. Talk to this Orange guy and maybe give him some tips on how to talk to ponies.”
Drops frowned, and rubbed her chin. “It’s so crazy, it might just work.”
–
“Tips on how to talk to ponies?” Mosely Orange chortled after he said it, cupping a hoof to his mouth (insofar as hooves could be cupped). “My dear mare, with all due respect, I don’t think you have your hoof on the pulse of the common pony as much as I do. They love detailed explanations about income brackets!”
Agents Drops and Heartstrings blinked in unison. “Well,” Agent Heartstrings said, “yes, that is a very interesting and important subject, but maybe you could talk about, like… where you’re from? Things you like? Anything that makes you seem more like the common pony?”
Another chortle. “Would you want any old regular pony from the street to be governor?” Mosely snorted, and gestured around at the penthouse they were all sitting in. “The whole point is that the position goes to the best pony for it, not just any old pony. And with my short twenty-nine point presentation on the tax code, I’m sure the common pony will see that I am that best pony.”
Agent Drops repressed a groan, barely. “What about attack ads? That weasel Polomare has been going after you like crazy, and you’re not even fighting back! Listen to this!”
She turned on the radio on the nearby coffee table with a smack of her hoof, and right on cue, the unctuous, friendly tones of Suri Polomare issued forth.
“And I gotta say, that Mosely Orange, where did he get his money, anyway? I hear he’s got ties to the Apple Family, he doesn’t even deny it, m’kay? Just another one of those elite snobs, looking down on us regular folk who, sure, maybe glanced at other fashion designers’ notes once or twice, and now they’re trying to tell us that’s illegal or something—”
Mosely reached over and switched the radio off with another tap, just as Polomare’s audience started to applaud. “I will not stoop to the level of such vulgarity. This will be an honest campaign, because honesty is what Manehattan wants for, now more than ever.” He stood, and a butler appeared to escort Heartstrings and Drops out. “Thank you for your time, my dears, but I’m confident that honest facts will win the day, with no need for dirty tricks.”
–
“Well, he’s screwed,” Agent Drops said, after the elevator ride down. There was a Polomare poster across from her in the penthouse elevator, and she stared at it like she was trying to set it on fire.
“It’s not looking great,” Agent Heartstrings admitted. “I think maybe we should—”
“Do the hypnosis plan right away,” Agent Drops finished, yanking Agent Heartstrings out of the elevator as the doors open. “Totally on board, bestie!”
–
“Hello!” Bon Bon said—it could be just ‘Bon Bon’ right now since this counted as undercover, they’d taken off the tuxedos and everything. “My bestie Lyra and I wanted to apply to knock on doors for the Polomare campaign!”
She had to speak up: the easiest way to find the Polomare campaign had been at a Polomare rally. Suri’s voice was the loudest thing there, and the cheering crowd was the second loudest thing.
“And let me tell you, those ponies from Ponyville, they think they know so much better than you just because the Princess thinks they’re special, m’kay? You can’t trust any of em. I hear they’ve even got changelings in Ponyville now, and that’s the kind of pony that Mosely Orange, I call him Only Mostly Orange, because he’s got a lot of yellow on him too—”
“Sounds good,” said the pony in front of Lyra and Bon Bon, wearing a ‘Polomare for Governor’ shirt. “Lemme just grab the campaign managers.”
Bon Bon snickered as he trotted away. “You’ve got the hypnosis device?” she whispered to Lyra.
Lyra reached into her saddlebag and levitated out the little cylinder. “I’m still not sure about this,” she muttered.
“What do you mean? It’ll be easy! We just hypnotize whoever these campaign managers are, and—”
“Good heavens, brother! Is that a genuine, bona fide SMILE hypnosis device?”
“Why yes it is indeed, brother! And that must be Agent Sweetie Drops, also from our erstwhile organization!”
Lyra jolted up at the two strongly accented voices—she wasn’t sure what the accent even was, just that it was strong—and dropped her magical hold on the device. Only for it to be picked up by another unicorn’s glowing blue aura—one of two unicorns, yellow ponies with flat hats, bowties, and suspenders.
“Well, Flim, isn’t this an intriguing situation!” said the smirking Flam.
“Two ponies from the secret service trying to sneak into our campaign, Flim, for doubtless nefarious purposes!” the grinning Flim agreed.
“Could be a scandal!”
“Could make headlines!”
“Could propel the Polomare campaign to a landslide victory!”
“What?” Lyra yanked the cylinder back with her magic. “No, uh, this is a prescription sleep aid, look—” She pointed the device at her face and turned it on. Her jaw went slack and her eyes unfocused. “I am getting very sleepy….”
The brothers Flim and Flam blinked. Bon Bon glared at them as politely as she could. “Well, lovely talking with you,” she forced out, biting back her venom at the two turncoat agents from years back. “Good luck with your campaign!” She took Lyra and guided her away from the two of them, without too much difficulty.
Flim snorted. “By the looks of things, Agent Drops, you’re the one who needs the luck!”
–
“Those utter weasels!” Agent Drops fumed, once Lyra had shaken off the effects of the device. “I should have known there was a reason SMILE couldn’t deal with the campaign earlier, it’s being run by a pair of ex-agents! We won’t get within a mile of them now!”
Agent Heartstrings frowned. “Well… I think we should still try my idea—”
“We tried the hypnosis thing!”
“My actual idea, which you haven’t heard yet,” Heartstrings continued testily, “which is that we try to help ponies understand that Mosely Orange is actually a nice guy and a really good choice? Show ponies a better version of him than the one Suri is telling them about?”
Drops’ eyes went wide. “That’s it!”
“Yes, that is it—”
–
“We just needed a better version of Mosely Orange!” Bon Bon declared proudly from behind the stage.
Agent Heartstrings facehooved. “Bon Bon, no….”
“I love apple pie and the Horse-Yankees!” declared the Mosely Orange on stage in front of them. “My political opinions are uncomplicated and agree with whatever you already believe! And I will happily kiss your baby and/or have an apple cider with you!”
The crowd cheered. Bon Bon let out a little groan of pleasure as, speech over, ‘Mosely Orange’ came backstage… and transformed back into her original changeling form.
“How’d I do?” she asked, eyes bright.
“I can feel the points coming in,” Agent Drops replied, beaming. “Good work, Deputized Agent Ocellus. This’ll change the polls for sure.”
“Thanks! I guess it’s just good they don’t know I’m a changeling impersonating the real candidate in a scheme to swing the election,” she said. “Anyway, totally unrelated where should I put this mini microphone?”
Heartstrings blinked. “What wire?”
“The one those two guys gave for me to wear!” Ocellus pulled it out of her carapcace and held it proudly aloft. “The guys with the hats and bowties. They said it would be better for the acoustics.”
Agent Drops blinked. Then she darted forward to peer out from behind the curtains.
The audience stared blankly at the podium.
“They worked for you, right?” said the loud voice of Ocellus over the speakers. “Anyway, where did you want me to put this?”
–
“We’re screwed, we’re screwed, we’re so screwed,” Agent Drops sobbed.
It was the final town hall debate, a week before the election. Suri Polomare was tearing Mosely Orange so many new ones that he was starting to resemble a fishing net, and Agents Drops and Heartstrings were stuck in the audience watching it happen.
“You don’t even talk like a normal pony!” she was saying. “Say y’all.”
Mosely cleared his throat. “You all.”
“See!?” she exclaimed, as the crowd jeered.
“I’m out of dirty tricks,” Agent Drops sighed. “It’s all over.”
She felt a hoof on her shoulder, and looked up into Lyra’s face. “Not yet,” Agent Heartstrings said, eyes shining. She stood up and raised a hoof. “Excuse me! I have a question for the candidates!”
The spotlights focused on her. “Yes?” Suri asked.
“To both of you.”
[[Scene in which Lyra gets Mosely Orange to say something honest and stirring that gets the crowd on his side, and Polomare reveals herself to be a callous heartless capitalist, turning the crowd against her.]]
“Well?” Lyra said, sitting back down and grinning at Bon Bon. “Maybe we didn’t need dirty tricks after all, huh?”
Bon Bon stared at her, eyes wide. “It’s so crazy,” she said, “it might just work.”
They hugged.
–
TRIXIE LULAMOON DEFEATS POLOMARE, ORANGE
WRITE IN CAMPAIGN COMES OUT OF NOWHERE
Bon Bon and Lyra stared at the newspaper headlines. “We’re so fired,” Bon Bon said.