[AiE] Anon the Judge

>Day Nightmare Night in Equestria
>It was that time of the year again.
>The time of year when small horses of all shapes and sizes dressed themselves up as the first thing to pop into mind.
>Normally this was one of those nights you would simply ‘go camping’ in your attic, but before you had a chance to disappear there was a knock at the door.
>Sighing, you made your way over, opening it up.
>You expected it would be Pinkie, or maybe Twilight, trying to egg you on about joining the festivities.
>But to your surprise, it was the mayor.
“Uh, good evening. Can I help you?”
>She smiles warmly, though she seems to be a bit stressed. “Hello Anonymous. I was wondering, will you be in town this evening? I know you usually go camping and all of that…”
>The mayor’s eyes look about the room behind you. Unfortunately, you haven’t had a chance to pile up a bunch of camping supplies as an alibi.
>That’s what you get for sleeping in…
“Uh… probably. Why?”
>”Well, I was wondering if you wanted to help judge the costumes everypony will be wearing tonight? You see, we have a bunch of, let’s just say prestigious guests coming by and—“
“Why are you asking me of all people to do this?”
>The mayor gulps. “Would you believe me if I said everyone else cancelled?”
>Of fucking course they did.
“Seriously?”
>She nods slowly. “They all want to be in the contest…”
>Sighing, you figure it’s better than just loitering upstairs.
“Fine.”
>You would come to regret that.

>That night, you head to the town hall to try and meet up with the mayor so you know what you’re even supposed to do.
>On arrival you spot a table with a few chairs behind it and a few signs, one of which has ‘Anon’ poorly scribbled onto it.
>The other ones are blank.
“Hello? Mayor Mare are you here?”
>The aforementioned official pops her head out of the front door. “Oh, Anon! You’re here, good, good.”
>You notice she’s wearing what seems to be a judge’s outfit, complete with curled hair.
“Yeah well, I need to know what to do…”
>She lets out a bit of an awkward laugh, “Oh, yes, right. Well, uh…”
>The mayor walks over to you on the stage and gestures to the table.
>”It’s simple really. You sit there, and then ponies will come to you in costumes and ask you to judge them. Just ask them what they are and tell them what you think.”
“Okay…?”
>She smiles. “You’ll be fine. Just be honest and write down the ones you like, and then figure out what’s the best one and announce it at the end of the night.”
>You frown and cross your arms.
“What, am I the only one judging this shit? Where are you going to be?”
>”Oh, uh… you know. Mayor things. Remember to be objective, there’s a very big prize of bits to the winner.”
>You roll your eyes. That explains why no one else is judging it; they all want to win the money.
“Yeah, sure. Also, you might want to work on that hair of yours. I can see some pink leaching through.”
>The mayor’s eyes dilute. “What!? Oh, no, no, no, that’s—I need to go, bye!”
>She runs off, panicked.
>Groaning, you take a seat at the table a flip up the sign. This should be good.

>It doesn’t take long for a bunch of ponies to begin funneling into the town’s main square, all seeking the wise advice of Judge Anon.
>You sighed, watching as they began lining up on the other side of the platform.
>They just sort of stood there, chatting each other up, though, the head of the line not actually coming to see you.
“Anytime now…”
>Blinking, the pony, a cerise of moderate intensity mare you recognized to be the school teacher walked up.
>She smiles at you as you look over her outfit. “Good evening, Anon. Are you tonight’s judge?”
“Yeah. What are you supposed to be?”
>Cheerilee frowns, surprised by your inability to discern her strange outfit.
>”Er, I’m a cat. See?” She raises a hoof, which is inside of a paw glove, or perhaps boot?
“I didn’t know cats had floppy ears.”
>She smiles awkwardly, try to push her oversized cat ears back up as you jot down some notes.
>Eventually you determine she’s idling a bit too long, and ask her to leave.
>It takes another five minutes for the next pony in the lineup to bother coming on stage.
“This is going to be a long night… What is your costume?”
>”I am a lobster,” declares the exceedingly nerdy pony.
“You know lobsters are only red when cooked, right?”
>The gangly colt abruptly turns green. “You eat lobsters? I think I’m going to be sick!”
>Wobbly, he makes his way off the stage. As you turn to watch his retreat, he makes it about half way to the nearest building before opting to hurl into one of the buckets attached to another pony’s costume.
>Looking back, a very tall blue stallion you recognize from a local singing group, is dressed as a trumpet. Sort of.
>“…What did you say to him?”
“That your costume is bad.”

>Time went by, with more and more absolutely fucking disgusting costumes coming with it.
>Silver Spoon dressed as a spoon, made from tin. Diamond Tiara as a queen, but no diamonds in her tiara.
>It’s like they weren’t even trying.
>Next up was the CMC, who had combined their powers by building some sort of bug horse thing from wood, though it had some metal parts too.
>Apple Bloom was at the head, and poked her head out of the fanged maw when they finally managed to get in front of you, which only took a good five minutes.
“Hi. What is your costume”
>Apple Bloom grins. “We’re a changeling! We spent all week putting this outfit togeth—Ow! Sweetie Belle, watch your horn!”
>A muffled ‘Sorry’ comes from the upper torso.
>Apple Bloom attempts to continue, only for the voice Scootaloo to pop out, “I still don’t get why Sweetie is in the middle. I’m the Pegasus, I should be handling the wings…”
>Applejack’s sister groans. ”Can we not do this now? We’re supposed to be getting judged!”
>You stare intently at the yellow filly, slowly raising up your pen and making notes, jotting them down slowly.
>The smaller horse begins to visible sweat as you do so, clearly losing faith in their costume’s capabilities.
>Eventually Apple Bloom gives the signal to her friends that they need to head off stage so the next pony can get judged.
>But before they can so much as take a step, a pair of royal guard crash down in front of them. “Halt!”
>Apple Bloom lets out an eep, thoroughly spooked, the costume’s maw closing down with a clank.
>”We had received word that a changeling had been spotted in Ponyville! We have you now, shapeshifter scum!”
>The other guard nods. “Yes! We have you now. You are under arrest!”
>The costume’s head moves about awkwardly as Apple Bloom tries and fails to reopen it; the hinge is probably stuck.
>”N-No you’ve got it all wrong!”
>”Yeah, we’re just in a costume!”
>”I knew I should’ve been in the middle...”
>The guards ignore them, quickly hoofcuffing the costume and dragging it away.

>Who would’ve guessed the CMC were a changeling the whole time?
>Not you. That’s for sure.
>Next up came the oh-so-mystical Princess Twilight Sparkle, her coat and mane seemingly magically hue shifted to be more a purplish red.
“Hi. What’s your costume.”
>Twilight smiles. “Glad you asked. This year, I wanted to pick out another noted historical figure in magic, since I’ve been Starswirl already. I wasn’t quite sure who to pick, but then I realized, a perfect choice, and, after some extensive research—“
“Was your historical figure an Alicorn?”
>Purplesmart starts, taken off guard. “Er, no, but most ponies aren’t Alicorns. Vladimare of Bitaly was a key figure in Unicornia’s history though, and I’ve made sure every detail is correct! I even went to an auction in Canterbury to get his original brooch from the second revolt’s—“
“Gee, Twi, and a stallion too? You’ve got to try harder with your costumes.”
>The mare frowns. “Anon, you’re not even judging my costume.”
“Of course I am, Twilight. Vladimare wore his brooch on the other side, his jacket was embroidered with Mustangian designs, not Canterbury ones, and he had an orange coat with no stripes in his mane. I expected better from you, for shame.”
>The mare is taken aback. “…How did you know that?”
>You smile at her.
“You just told me.”
>Thoroughly buttblasted, the purple alicorn storms off the stage, retreating to her gaudy fortress of angular dimensions.
>Still a fair 7/10, though. Well-tailored, probably Rarity’s work. Good effort.
>A few more ponies of non-importance like Apple Bloom’s sister and Prismatic Run came by with more stupid costumes.
>You could only guess what convinced them to dress up as a carpet muncher and an apple farmer.
>It was at this point that you noticed a pair of very tall Alicorns appear and attempt to get in line.
>A blue one, with pastel rainbow hair and golden swag found herself quite surprised when other ponies let her cut in line.
>While the white one, with a dark blue mane and obsidian regalia was promptly stuck at the end of the crowd.

>Eventually, more costumes came and went, and the pair of Alicorns came up on stage together, Luna waiting for her sister to actually catch up in the line.
>The sun speaks. ”Good evening, Anonymous. I see they’ve made you judge?”
“How do you know I’m Anonymous? For all you know I’m the mayor in a costume.”
>The two Alicorns give you a look.
“Right. So care to explain what I’m seriously looking at?”
>Celestia opens her mouth to respond but her sister cuts her off. “WE, are Princess Celestia.” She points to her sister, “This is Luna, the blue one.”
>”Sister, I do not sound like that all.”
>”And we do not sound like that.”
>Sunbutt rolls her eyes. “I told you this was a horrible idea. You can’t even pull off my look anyway.”
>The moon princess scoffs. ”HA! And you can pull off ours?”
>”Yes, I can. And I don’t look as dumb as you do wearing it too.”
>”Dumb!? I do not look dumb.”
>You roll your eyes at the childish display. Siblings will sib.
>Suddenly, eyes were on you. “Anonymous, do tell, whose costume is the dumbest?”
>Luna steps forward. “Indeed. Please inform my sister of her dumb outfit.”
“You both look pretty dumb, ladies. You realize you’re supposed to dress up in a costume, right, not switch clothes?”
>They blink, going silent.
“That’s what I thought.”
>Dejected, the two Alicorns make their way off the stage, still muttering to each other about their outfits being dumber.
>Time went by, and soon the moon was at its highest point in the sky.
>”Hello, Anon.”
“Hi, Mayor Mare. Did you fix your costume?”
>She smiles. “Of course. What do you think?”
“It’s okay.”
>She frowns, probably hoping you would be more impressed by it.
>Sighing, she continues as you write some more notes. “Well, do you have ideas on who will be the winner?”

>You just sort of grunt, thinking it over as the mayor walks over.
>The pony peeks at your notes, and raises an eyebrow.
>”These uh… aren’t notes, Anonymous.”
“Very true. They’re butts.”
>”Yes, but why have you been drawing butts? I don’t see how this is going to help you judge—Is that supposed to be mine?”
>You chuckle as she just groans.
>Rising from your seat, your legs a bit stiff from sitting for so long, you snatch up the rather neglected microphone and prepare to announce the winner.
>The ponies take note of such, and quickly gather round, some giddy with excitement on who the winner is going to be.
>You look over the crowd. Celestia and Luna seemed to still be having an amicable debate over whose outfit was least intelligent, and Twilight had seemingly been dragged into it.
>Other small horses were doing small horse things.
“Hello, ponies. Not ponies.”
>All eyes are on you.
“I’m here to announce the winner of tonight’s costume contest… thing. And the bits. Yes.”
>The ponies continue eyeing attentively.
“Well, after much deliberation, the winner is…”
>You look to the mayor, hoping for a drumroll that never comes. Eventually, figuring you’ve waited long enough, you point into the crowd.
“You! The changeling guy back there.”
>The crowd parts around where you’ve pointed, to reveal a rather surprised and small changeling trying and failing to eat a candied apple whole.
>”What?”
>The crowd promptly ferried the confused not-pony forward, and within a few moments he was before you on the stage.
>But before he could waddle over to you, one of the royal guard from earlier landed in front of him.
>”Congratulations on winning, kid! Great costume you’ve got here; so realistic.”
>He outstretches a hoof, which the colt cautiously shakes. “Uhm… thank you?”
>As soon as the guard had come, he was off, back to patrolling some donuts elsewhere.
>”So, uh… what do I win?”
“The love an adoration of the ponies of Ponyville of course.”
>The bugpony beams. “Really?”
>The mayor, very much disapproving of your choice, shakes her head as she pushes a large bag of coins toward the lone changeling. “No. Just 10,000 bits.” She turns to you. “Really, Anonymous?”
“He’s got a pretty convincing disguise, what can I say?”
>”I will buy so much love with these yellow coins.”
>With your task completed, you dropped the mic and began the trek home.
>Unfortunately the mic broke when it landed on the ground, and you had to pay for a replacement, but all’s well that ends well.