Ever since her "defeat" many months ago, Trixie had been a laughingstock amongst showmares. She had been caught on her boasts, she had allowed her stage and traveling home to be destroyed, and most importantly she had broken character - a sure sign of any bad performer. At first she had tried to convince herself that it wasn't her fault, but the other unicorn, that Twilight Sparkle mare, that she had been shamed. But no, she was just doing what she had to do to save her home. For a while she had blamed those two other particularly dull unicorns, but they were children - their overactive imaginations probably hadn't known any better. No, what happened at Ponyville was her fault - as much as she hated to admit it. And even though it had caused her much grief and several months in financial peril, even driving her to consider jobs that weren't exactly... desirable... Trixie had finally recovered, at least to some extent. But this time around she would be more cautious. She had learned from her past mistakes, and she was determined not to make the same mistake that had caused her downfall. A different approach to life, if you will. First off, Trixie's show had been changed to appeal to children, and through the children she would draw in the older ponies. Second, she had done her research on several myths and legends of the past. She knew her strength lay in storytelling and performing it, but she had realized - boasts that she couldn't back up were never a good idea. After experiencing some much-needed success in other towns such as Hoofington and a small-scale show in Manehattan, she had finally set her sights on the place where her trials had begun. Ponyville. The name stung in her mind, still to this day, and for a moment she was uncertain. What could she do differently? What would she do differently, for a better reception? Would... they... be there? Of course they would, but the better question - would they accept her if she confronted them and talked? Or would they drive her out without hesitation? A lump rose in her throat, and she forced it down before continuing to walk forward. She had to try. The show had to go on.