Getting the scoop [Private][Appleoosa]

[Bannhammer]

For the first time in a long while, Maximilian Rockefilly Jr had a visitor. Normally they arrived unannounced, much to his chagrin. Finally, he took the initiative and invited somepony over, a member of the press, no doubt! Well, he saw this stallion at the gala, and decided then and there to grant him an interview. It would do them both good. Positive publicity for Max, and this stallion would have an exclusive interview with Equestria’s wealthiest bachelor.

The train from Canterlot to Appleoosa steamed in; Max watched from his office window. While his estate lacked size when compared to his Manehattan mansion, the building in the frontier town certainly had its own charm. Three stories tall, with columns along the front, it resembled an old plantation estate in its design, a proper style for the western settlement.

Maximilian sipped his drink, watching as the train slowly rolled into the station. With the ring of a bell, he beckoned a pony into the room.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Send Fine Print down to the station to meet our guest, won’t you? Tell him to lead him straight here, no delay. Carry his things, if he has any.”

“Right away.” The staff bowed and quickly trotted out of the room.

Taking another sip, the wealthy stallion continued to stare out the window. Once the train finally stopped, there would be a pony in a nice suit holding a sign that read: “EARTH WRITER”.

[Blueblood]

Earth Writer was no stranger to travel, and this part of Equestria was fairly familiar to him. He'd been born in Dodge city, though his family had moved to Ponyville when he was very young. He was surprised at how much he recognized on the way out to Appleoosa; nothing major, a particular line of roofs visible through a train window, a glimpse of a sign down a dusty street...

But then the train pulled away towards Appleoosa, and the unicorn stallion was entering unfamiliar territory. He'd heard of the town before, and had meet his host at the Grand Galloping Gala at Canterlot. Apparently, the reporter had made a good enough impression for Max to grant an interview, which from what his colleagues had told him, was pretty rare. Apparently the tycoon and the journalistic profession had nursed a long-standing mutual antipathy. A little research had told him why, along with furnishing him material for questions.

The train pulled in on time, as expected, and Earth wondered if Max had some pull in assuring the rail line's efficiency. *Probably, especially if this is going to be a stop on the new trans-continental line.* Now there was another question.

He met the greeter sent to him with raised eyebrows. This was a novelty to a reporter on his traveling budget. "I don't suppose you could help me with my suitcase? I'd like to settle my rooms quickly before I go to see your boss."

[Bannhammer]

The pony waiting nodded, folding the sign up and tossing it into a recycling bin. “Of course, sir, though Mister Rockefilly would like to know if you would rather stay in one of his guest rooms, free of charge? You would be reimbursed for any bits you spent on a room in town. It would be no problem, he assures you.”

Motioning with a hoof, the pony signalled for Earth Writer to follow him. With their magic, the unicorn servant levitated the bags beside them as he set off towards Max’s estate.

“It is not often that Mister Maximilian has a guest, especially not the press. He is in his office most of the day, and doesn’t have much time for pleasantries.”

As they trotted along, the large house began to rise over the horizon. Architecturally, it stood out, mostly due to its size. Though the town had seen a boom in construction, nothing quite rivaled the estate, other than perhaps the new train station. Unlike his mansion in Manehattan, this house did not have a gate, or security surrounding it, mainly because he wanted to be more intimately involved with the ponies of Appleoosa. It would be counter productive to shut the nice ponies out of his life when he made such a fuss about moving in.

Soon enough they reached the front door, and the servant opened it wide. Inside lay a grand staircase, with an ornate chandelier floating up high.“Please, take the stairs up to the third floor, Max’s office is the first room you’ll see, with the large oak doors. Simply knock, he’s expecting you.”

[Blueblood]

The reporter fixed his welcomer with a long look. "I'm already on an expense account from my paper, sir. I don't take money from interviewees; it would compromise my journalistic integrity." He spoke seriously, like a knight on a point of honor. He lightened up a bit, though, upon reflection, "Tell him that I'm grateful for the kind thoughts though." Earth Writer felt that he was beginning to understand why Maximilian was having trouble improving his reputation in Fleet Street. *Not entirely his fault, I suppose, but it might prove awkward having to point out such things to him. Not to mention that it's not exactly my job to do so.*

Well, that could wait. In the meantime, the unicorn stallion was admiring the mansion's facade. It had to have been expensive to cart all that wood into the middle of a desert. He wondered, briefly, what the townsfolk actually thought of it. Another thing to ask, he supposed.

He passed over the threshold, thanking the servant for the directions before trotting briskly up to the doors and rapping three times with his forehoof.

[Bannhammer]

”Of course, sir, I’ll take your bags tot he hotel right away then.” The pony bowed before turning away to go to the hotel. His reservation info had already been shared as part of their correspondence, so the pony already knew where to take the bags.

As Earth Writer ascended the stairs, he would be able to see portraits on the wall. Each one depicted a unicorn stallion facing to the right. Underneath each a placard read their names, going from ‘Ezekiel Rockefilly’ to ‘Maximilian Rockefilly Sr.’. The current Rockefilly didn’t have his own portrait up yet, it seemed.

The door opened quickly after the knock. Maximilian Rockefilly Jr stood there, smiling. ”Ah, Mister Earth Writer, you’re right on time! Come in, come in! May I interest you in a drink, perhaps?”

Moving quickly, the white unicorn went to the other side of his desk, pulling out a decanter and two glasses. ”Please, take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” he motioned towards a large chair that sat in front of his desk.

”Will you be staying here, or was my little ‘bribe’ ineffective?” he joked, chuckling to himself as he poured a glass of scotch whisky. While he wasn’t used to having guests, he certainly understood the idea of professionalism and conflicts of interest.

”I trust your train ride went well?"

[Blueblood]

Earth entered with a polite and friendly smile, responding in kind to the greeting Max gave him. "Thank you, sir! Just some water please; it can be rather parching here." He took a seat and made himself comfortable, as directed. It was pretty easy; while the furniture wasn't ostentatiously plush, it supported a pony quite well, with no hard corners, edges, or surfaces. Yet, it was just firm enough that pony wouldn't easily go to sleep in it, which was a relief to Earth Writer, as long train journeys can be tiring.

The unicorn's lips curled slightly as the 'bribe' was mentioned. "Heh, that was your idea of a joke, was it? You really need to be careful about that; given... circumstances, there's many that would take that the wrong way, which is definitely inconvenient when they're the ones telling Equestria all about you." The journalist didn't have many illusions about being called for this interview; Maximilian clearly had a hard time finding a sympathetic ear among the reporters, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. Fleet Street was its own world, and he knew from experience how tough it could be for a novice to navigate it.

He took a sip of water, and drew out his notebook. Might as well begin. Earth opened with a tactic that had never failed to make an interviewee more open. "Well, if you're ready to start, I thought we'd begin with anything you really want to say to the public. A short statement for the lead, as it were." Not only would it get Max talking, but the stallion wouldn't be impatient with the rest of the questions, waiting for the one that would give him the opportunity to say what he really wanted to say.

[Bannhammer]

Max levitated the glass of scotch over towards himself, floating a glass of water over to Earth. The reporter seemed genuine, not the sort of muckraker that the Rockefilly tried to avoid. Hopefully this could serve as what he needed.

He nodded at the comment, fully aware that perhaps that sort of joke wasn’t in proper taste. Max hadn’t considered the consequences fully, something he rarely failed to do. Part of the reason he wanted this interview was to show the world what he was doing, and to let ponies get a peek past the veil of a ruthless business pony.

Maximilian inherited the mantle of the Rockefilly empire nearly a decade ago, and had worked himself nearly to death before having a revelation. He had the ability to do great good instead of working only to make money at the expense of others. Despite this change of heart, many ponies doubted his sincerity or accused him of lying in order to get himself off the hook for bad things he had done.

He understood their doubts, and maybe, just maybe, this interview could help clear his name.

“Well, Mister Writer, I appreciate you coming here, and I would like to thank you for giving me a chance to set things straight.”

The unicorn cleared his throat after taking a sip of his drink. After a moment of thought, he began to speak.

“I do not deny, nor do I fail to understand, that I have done bad things with my power and money. I have driven ponies out of business; I have landed ponies on the street, and overall I simply failed to serve the interests of my fellow pony. My father taught me to be ruthless, to do anything it took to not only get ahead, but make sure that nopony could catch up. From an early age, instead of teaching me to love, or to feel sympathy, I learned how to cheat and rob and lie.”

“I do not blame him for how he raised me, for it was how his father raised him, and how his father’s father raised him, and so on. It is no excuse, though. It took a rather strange time in my life to figure out that I was doing so much harm, and for what? For myself. To keep it simple, as I’m sure you’re next few questions will clarify this further, I have turned over a new leaf. Charities, ambitions development projects, and much more, are only my first steps towards repairing the damage I have caused.”

[Blueblood]

Earth Writer took down the statement. It wasn't bad, though the opening sounded a little too much like something out of a PR workshop; it sounded much more genuine if you just left the first sentence out. *Dunno if I ought to fudge it like that, but it's not as if I'm changing the meaning of what he's saying, just its impression.* It did clue the reporter in on how much trouble Max might be having in figuring out how other ponies actually saw him, but was it his place to correct the tycoon?

In any case, the next question naturally followed. "Ah, yes, these projects. Do you mind giving me a short list of your recent works?"

[Bannhammer]

While Earth Writer jotted down notes, Maximilian took another sip of scotch. He loved the smoky taste; it helped to clear his mind. While some of the statements had been prepared in advance, Max believed that making it up as he went along would make it more genuine.

“Well, let’s see... The trans-national railroad for starters, then there is the chain of soup kitchens opened in Manehattan, also some low rent housing in the slums to give ponies a place to stay. Then there’s all the charities I’ve made through partnerships. I don’t really start them; a pony will come to me with a cause and I’ll pledge funding to get it off the ground. I’m planning on overhauling Appleoosa’s infrastructure, make it into a modern, thriving city. Hopefully we can get the local GDP above national average, that’s my goal.”

He took another sip, thinking for a moment. “All that must sound awfully boring...”

[Blueblood]

Earth Writer shook his head. "No, no, I can follow you well enough without nodding off, don't worry." The unicorn jotted down the list of Max's developments, singling out the last one for further questions. He'd heard about the Appleoossan expansion before when they'd met at the Gala, and the reporter had had time to think about the implications a little more, as well as researching the area.

"I'm curious as to your plans for expanding Appleoosa into a metropolis. Have you discussed any of the implications with the local buffalo tribes? Expanding the town that lies on their traditional roaming grounds does carry some risk of infringement."

[Bannhammer]

Max poured himself another glass, taking it slow so that Earth Writer had the time to write everything down. He wanted this interview to go as smoothly as possible, and so he would be accommodating.

"Of course. When we were building the railroad, I went with some of the town folk to discuss land usage with the buffalo. Luckily the two groups had a history of working together, as is seen with the path cutting through the orchards."

He paused, looking out the window for a moment and taking another sip. Eventually he faced Earth Writer again, faintly smiling, before continuing.

"So it was not hard to strike a deal. The tribe receives a cut of the railroad's profits, and any further development will carry the same deal. Also, when buying the land, a clause is inserted that gives the buffalo 49% ownership, meaning that if they wish to buy it back, it would not cost very much. Of course, it is in their best interest not to buy, because of some other, very complicated deals we've made."

"Was that a satisfactory response?"

[Blueblood]

That sounded all right. Earth Writer's first impression had been that Max was genuine, and he hadn't had any indication otherwise. He was certainly trying to deal all ethcially and above-board. If he hadn't that huge shadow over his past, he'd have it smooth now. As it was, not even the reporter was immune to that soupcon of suspicion that lurked in the back of his mind, and he knew that he had to pursue anything that set it off. If it got him suspicious, it would get his readers suspicious, and that really wouldn't help Max recover a good name.

"Ah, these 'complicated deals' you mention," Earth Writer narrowed his eyes as he asked, the phrase had triggered him, "Do you mind going into detail about them? Don't worry about taking up my time, I have all day, and longer if necessary. You understand that it is important that all information is available in order for the public to make a proper judgment?"

[Bannhammer]

The stallion swished his glass around, levitating it near his head in a magical field. As Earth thought things over, Maximilian refilled his glass of water, keeping him topped off. Hopefully this gamble would pay off, and a good article would appear in the paper for once. Though, as he expected, Earth Writer wanted all of the facts.

“Good Question. I try to keep things simple, but I suppose I could explain the inner workings a little bit.”

Maximilian cleared his throat, giving time to the journalist to get himself ready to write everything down.

“The town council zoned the land for commercial use, which the buffalo have no need for. Also, the local corporate tax is rather high, something I lobbied for to prevent other rich investors from trying to buy up the land and ruin my plan. Now, the buffalo tribe is recognized by Equestria as a sovereign nation, and they also filed paperwork to establish a tribe limited liability corporation.”

“Therefore, if they were to purchase the land, they would be expected to pay the corporate income tax, along with maintenance fees for the land and any buildings. The tax rate itself is so high, though, that any returns they could make on the business there would be negligible. As a result, they stand to make the most money by simply collecting their share as promised to them by the town and myself.”

“Over time, a simple graph shows that long term gains far outweigh any short term benefits gained by buying the land back. I hope that all made sense, as I wasn’t really prepared to discuss policy in this way....”

[Blueblood]

"Right, could you hang on a second? I need to get that all down." Earth Writer's pencil scribbled furiously, drawing a chart as well as transcribing the words. After he had it all down, he stretched his neck, taking a look at it all. "I suppose that makes sense, I trust that the Buffalo were consulted at the zoning meeting, given Appleoosa's history, and have no pre-existing non-commericial uses for it." He left a pause for Max to correct him if he was wrong. As long as that was all above-board, the deal was good.

"I appreciate that you want to keep more rapacious hooves out of the operation, though the prohibitive costs of investment you lobbied for practically give you a financial monopoly in development here. Am I reading the situation right, or are you taking a loss on the expectation of future developments?"

[Bannhammer]

“Absolutely. The land we bought is right on the edge of the town, and apart from being a barren wasteland, serves no other purpose. Land that holds religious value, or that the buffalo do not want to sell, is off the table.”

The Rockefilly adjusted the sleeve of his suit jacket, hesitant to discuss his profit margin. Though, he asked for this interview, so he had to grin and bear it.

“Normally, I am opposed to monopolies. I believe that the free market is the best solution to our problems. And to a certain extent, that is true in Appleoosa. Ponies are free to start their own businesses and do what they will with their money. If you look at local industries and businesses, they’re rather competitive, and prices here are low for a city dependant upon imports.”

“For larger scale things, such as I am doing, I am afraid that leaving it up to chance could be disastrous. Simply put, I do not trust my fellow investors enough to take the risk. While your average pony is looking to secure a nice standard of living for themselves, ponies with millions of bits are looking for more profit.”

“I must admit that this operation makes me money; I am well in the black. But, if profits were my priority, I could make triple, easily. Anypony with a brain could see that my interest is not in squeezing bits out of Appleoosa. My cutie mark is a stack of bits, and I believe that it means I have the talent to use my fortune and wealth to improve the lives of the ponies around me, making money all the while.”

“Of course, that is the reason I asked you here. Ponies think that making a lot of money is bad; I wish to set them straight. My investment in Appleoosa is paying off tremendously, but it is not a parasitic relationship by any means.”

[Blueblood]

Again, Max was willing to clear things up, or at least he had an answer to the first really difficult question. The answers were noted, though Earth Writer's next remark was more commentary than question. "It's a lot of trust you're asking for, on the basis of your good character; will the townsfolk vouch for you if any anti-trust agents come calling?"

The reporter didn't want to be harsh, he really didn't; it really wasn't good manners to rake an interviewee over the coals (unless you were absolutely certain that you had to), but if Max couldn't face one rough interview in the face, he'd never manage the gauntlet that would occur once the operations kicked into high gear. "And speaking as a pony and for myself; it's not so much the making of money that we consider bad, per se, it's that if you never accept a loss, we start to wonder if you really value anything more than bits. There was a certain recent incident, as I recall, where a planned factory development you spearheaded came into conflict with a historical site...?"

[Bannhammer]

“Trust is earned, not demanded. If the ponies do not trust me, that is their decision. I merely wish to clear things up, and make it easier for ponies to place their trust in me. I believe that the ponies of Appleoosa would stand by me, as they have this last year. They gave me their support when I first arrived, and they have been kind enough to stand behind me as time goes on.”

Max understood why Earth Writer asked these things, though it didn’t prevent the Rockefilly form snorting a little in annoyance. It was to be expected of a journalist to dig up dirt looking for facts and stories to tell. This particular incident was one Max did not want to talk about, but he felt as though he had no choice.

“I shall keep it short and simple, Mister Earth Writer. A rural area desperately needed stimulus. A factory would provide jobs and give the local ponies a way to earn bits. Now the placement of this factory was of vital importance, as it was a mountainous area. After some surveying, it became clear that there was one spot, and one spot only, where the factory could go.”

“Of course, such a fine spot had been inhabited before. By ponies who died hundreds of years ago. So, considering that the land had no living owner, I bought it cheap. Only when I announced my plans to build, did any problem arise. Silly ponies with no grasp of progress protested the build, nevermind the starving locals who needed jobs.”

“Let me make this clear, and you can quote me on this. I will help ponies, at any cost. I do not give a **** about history, or tradition, or any of those idiotic ideas. If I can bring jobs to hundreds by chopping down a forest, I will do it. If damming a river can provide electricity to a region, I will do it. Of course, if consequences are potentially damaging, I will consider them. But do not mistake that for compassion or any other such nonsense. I am in the business of improving lives, by any means necessary.”

[Blueblood]

Ah, there it was. Earth Writer had been looking for it during the whole interview; the bone of contention. While it was true that journalists tended to find the more seamy side of Equestrian life, the unicorn wasn't quite so jaded as to think that a perfectly honest stallion trying to do good would really find himself hated. Of course, nopony was perfect, and Max had just revealed what it was that kept making him bump heads with journalists and the common pony.

He took the response, closed the notebook, and took a deep breath. "Necessity is a... strong word. Were the inhabitants of this community in actual danger of death by starvation and/or exposure? In any case, granting the need for economic stimulus, would it have been that painful to transition from an industrial development to a tourist one? Heck, granting the land as a park, and letting the locals take full profit from the tourists might have done a lot to redeem your name, at cheap cost for the land, as you said. As it was, with all due apologies to the pigs and donkeys I have known, you made yourself look like a frightful pigheaded ass."

Earth Writer sighed. He didn't like saying such things, but he knew right now this really was necessary. "And you know what? If I went to print with your remarks verbatim, it would happen again. 'Don't mistake that for compassion or any other such nonsense', really? Do you know what anypony who opened their morning paper and read that would think? Not only have you pretty much said that you were without compassion, sympathy, or any kind of fellow feeling, but that you think anypony who had them, up to and including the Princesses themselves, were either weak or stupid. It's exactly the sort of thing your father would say!"

The journalist sighed again, rubbing his temples before looking back up at the white unicorn. "Max, I like you; anypony who met you socially would. And I know that you really are making an honest attempt at being a good pony. But you have a long way to go and you need help."

[Bannhammer]

“For a pony who wasn’t in the situation, I can understand how easy it is to nitpick. I assure you, though, that those ponies needed immediate economic relief. Profits from some sort of nature park would not have been enough, and the costs of maintenance for a large tract of mountainous land would have been astronomical. The ability to create a tourist industry was discussed, but if any steps had been taken in that direction, it would have been turned into a national park, with only a small portion of the profits going to the community. You’re a journalist, don’t try to tell me how to do my job, and I’ll return the sentiment.”

With that out of his system, Max allowed Earth Writer to continue. He hoped that his next words would be an easier question, though they were something else entirely. Max wore a nonchalant look as Earth Spoke, underneath he could feel a slight anger boiling up. He’d learned how to keep a calm disposition, and the words of some unknown journalist weren’t going to phase him. Though, he could recognize that there was no malice behind what he said. He was right, despite the fact that Max didn’t want to hear it.

Instead of a shout, or some sort of mean remark, Max simply laughed. He motioned with his hoof, asking for a moment of time to collect himself. Once he gathered his thoughts and calmed down, he offered a small smile.

“Not many ponies would sit in my office and call me... what was it? Oh yes, a ‘pigheaded ass?’. Bravo, Mister Earth Writer. Now, I must thank you for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you didn’t march out on me after all of that. There is a bit of... passion, behind my words, a passion I sometimes fail to keep in check.”

“Though, I must give you fair warning.”

Maximilian cleared his throat after taking a quick sip of scotch. He leaned forward in his seat, forehooves resting on the mahogany desk. The smiles and warmth dropped from his face in an instant, and he gave Earth Writer the most powerful look he could muster, which could make a windigo’s blood run cold. He spoke in a low, and chilling voice, filled with years of experience in boardrooms.

“Never mention my father in my presence, do you understand me? I like you too, Mister Writer, but make that mistake again and I will find another pony to write this interview. I will answer any question you ask, with that one caveat, understand?”

He quickly leaned back, returning to the pleasant disposition from before.

“Now, what advice can you offer me? Smile more? Perhaps I should tone down the ‘helping at any cost’ spiel? Or maybe more questions are in order?”

[Blueblood]

Well, that was quite a torrent! Earth Writer brought a hoof up to his forehead, and wasn't really surprised to feel that he had been sweating. He brushed his now-slick mane out of his eyes, and opened his notebook again. These were all very useful responses, really, though now they weren't exactly speaking like mere business associates now.

Whatever. Rapport was rapport. "Speaking of being in the situation, have you ever had to live on ten bits a week? I did, for a little while, and I know more ponies who still do. One I know strains his living expenses so that he has enough time to go to the University Library, and study things like history and tradition. Such things are like bread and wine to him. There are all kinds of ponies, very different from you, but that doesn't make them in any was inferior. If you seem hostile to them, it makes little to no difference how much you say you've changed, you know?" His tone stayed gentle; he wasn't sure how well the words were coming out. The cold look had shaken him a bit, he had to admit, but the reporter had rallied upon seeing Max's nameplate on his desk.

"As for advice? Well, I've got quite bit, starting with this." Earth Writer levitated the nameplate, and turned it so the interviewee could see what was on it. "Maximilian. Rockefilly. Junior. We can't just stop being our father's sons, even if we spend the rest of our lives trying to prove them wrong. It is especially hard in your case, I know; but if you react like that every time he's so much as mentioned... I think some counseling to come to terms with your family life might be a good idea."

Okay, that just went clear past the barriers of professionalism. There was really no going back now, so the journalist went on. "Second, unless you are actually in the red for any particular venture, yeah, drop the whole 'help at any cost' spiel entirely. It looks really bad when you ask for sacrifices from everypony but yourself, no matter how well intentioned you are. Not every problem in the world can be solved by a profit making venture." Earth shrugged. "That's all I've got for now, but really I think you could use a friend who is, in fact, willing to tell you when you are running the risk of being or looking asinine. Preferably one who knows journalism and poor life from the inside."

[Bannhammer]

“I am not hostile to ponies who struggle, and I never implied that I was. Ponies who make the best of poor situations and succeed in spite of them are just the kinds of ponies the world needs. I applaud them! My goal is to give everypony that chance, and to ensure that no pony should be denied the opportunity to succeed because of where they were born.”

“I am hostile to ponies who get in my way. That does not mean that I am unwilling to compromise, or to listen to dissenting opinions. Only a fool considers himself to have a monopoly on truth, Mister Earth Writer.”

Max glowered when the name plate was turned around. He’d dealt with his family’s sordid legacy for far too long. The whole point of this interview was to prove that he was nothing like his father, and now Earth Writer wanted to bring him up?

“My family life is non existent, and therefore nothing for anypony to be concerned with. My father is dead, it is his legacy I am concerned with. My mother locked herself away, and to this day lives in a house she hasn’t left in ten years. I am lucky to have no ties, nothing to distract me from my goal. One day, if fate wills it, I may settle down, but today is not that day.”

“My father was a great stallion, his practices were awful, but he had a strength of character and a will that could move mountains. I do not wish to be like him in most aspects, but I will not let his name be sullied. Let the dead rest!”

The unicorn stallion filled his small glass to the brim, downing its contents in one fell swoop. Using his sleeve to wipe at his muzzle, he quickly continued.

“Just because I do not lose money does not mean that I am not sacrificing. I have lost countless connections, and I have turned away ponies with my mission. Do you know how many ponies I have working against me now? They have their own fortunes and empires, and see fit to tear mine down. Ponies who own newspapers sending rats and vermin to dig up dirt on me for their tabloids. These scum seek nothing more than to get in my way, because i turned on them. These are the *******s who grew fat from my family, receiving payoffs in return for their compliance. But I ended that horrible precedent, and now I pay the price.”

“And do you know what it is like, receiving letters everyday, from ponies across the country, each one begging for help, and unable to help them all? I get correspondence through my charities, or from word of mouth, every month. A stack of letters addressed to me, and I have to sift through the pile of pleas and dreams and pick out which ones can work, which ones I can make happen? I have to stay in the black, it is the only way to ensure that this all works out in the end. Do you realize how little sleep I get knowing that a pony’s future depends on my choice, and no matter what I do I cannot help everypony?”

“So do not tell me that I do not sacrifice. Perhaps I do not shed blood, or sweat, but there are tears, Mister Earth Writer.”

At this point, Max had returned to leaning on his desk. His chest heaved as he drew in large breaths, seemingly lost in his calm outburst. Eventually, he closed his eyes, gently lowering himself back into his seat.

“I must apologize. You are here to help, I understand that. Forgive me if I get... scurrilous.”

[Blueblood]

Earth Writer gave Max a wry smile over the top of notebook. "Oh, that's quite alright; I understand that you really have never given anypony your side of the story before, so I imagine it'd be pretty bottled up by now." He tapped his levitated pencil against his horn, deep in thought. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped to think some more, before finally asking, "Have you ever heard the saying, 'A pony's not dead while their name's still spoken?' I guess that ties back to what you were saying about legacy, I suppose. Another word for inheritance, really; and if I may say so, sir? It's not just the fortune you got, but a sort debt of honor, accrued over many generations. That's what this whole thing's about, isn't it? You're trying to pay it off, and I think you can do it; but being normally good will only make the interest payment; you'll have to be downright heroic in other ponies' eyes to reduce the principle. Speaking as one who has the public ear." The journalist spoke frankly, as one friend might do to another. He really was feeling quite friendly and sympathetic towards the stallion, and he knew enough about public opinion to perhaps do some good in this area, if Max would let him.

"No, I don't know what that's like. Neither does anypony else; they can't see your sacrifices, and you haven't really been open about them before now. You can see your actions in that context, but everypony else can't." He sighed, like one facing a desk full of paperwork. So much left to do, and so much that was already done. "It's going to hurt. I'm not going to lie; if want to be positively admired by most ponies, you're going to leave yourself open for a lot of hurt. I can at least attest to the fact that my fellow reporters will hound you for years, and you'll have to just smile pleasantly and refrain from snarking. That makes them look bad, and you like a martyr. I can help with public image; as they say in Germaney, 'Ich bin das Volk.' I know what the common pony is going to think when they read about you in the paper, and I know how that story is going to be printed."

He closed his notebook. "That being said, if you do accept my help, this will be the last story I can write about you objectively, you understand?"

[Bannhammer]

Max sighed, still a tiny bit uncomfortable with discussing his father in such a way. Though, Earth Writer seemed to be on to something, so he would let it pass. If there was one thing in the world that could unnerve Maximilian, it was talking about the senior Rockefilly. Normally he’d end the conversation here and walk out, but that wouldn’t be very constructive.

“But, if I open myself up, and let everypony know how much I’m sacrificing, wouldn’t that make me look even worse? The last thing I want is for ponies to think I have a messiah complex... ‘Do good for the sake of good, not because you expect it in return’, isn’t that right?”

The stallion sighed again, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

“I’ve been taking **** from the press for years, I think I can handle a few more. Though... your help would be appreciated. I never thought I’d need a PR man.”

Max chuckled, levitating the bottle up to get a better look at it.

“If you truly wish to help me, I won’t refuse. Though, please reconsider. Don’t put yourself in a tough position for my sake.”

[Blueblood]

Earth Writer grinned, leaning back in the chair. "Eh, don't worry about it. Weren't you just talking being good for the sake of it, anyway?" The stallion laughed, wishing to brighten the mood a bit. Max tried to keep a good front in public, but the reporter was willing to bet all of it was beginning to be a bit of a strain on him. The guy needed a friend who could help him with his public persona, pure and simple. And Earth was quite willing to be a friend, now that he'd gotten to know the unicorn.

"I mean, sure, don't be ostentatious, but don't try to keep it all secret, either. We can sense when ponies are hiding something, but most of us don't look for good things in you, so we keep digging for dirt and printing whatever scraps we find." He gave an apologetic smile. "If we journalists have one fault, it's not looking on the bright side."

Earth stretched, feeling a few joints pop from being in a sitting position so long in that train. "Whew, been sitting down too long. How about we take a walk around, and see the town? Always like seeing new places, you know; I was a Geographer by training before I joined the paper."

[Bannhammer]

Max nodded, smiling warmly. It seemed that the interview thus far had gone fairly well. Earth Writer’s attempt to lighten the mood worked, and the Rockefilly chuckled. The stallion took another swig from the bottle before levitating it back into his desk.

“I think I can do that. I’ll make the press’ job easier and just make the news for them. No sense in letting them dig around, eh?”

The stallion stretched his limbs, stepping out from behind his desk.

“Sounds like a lovely idea.First time in Appleoosa? If so, I can give you one heck of a tour. I learned from the best in town, Mister Braeburn.”