Twilight Sparkle burst through the door to the mayor’s office. “Mayor Mare, I must insist that you reconsider making opposite day an officially regulated holiday.”

Mayor Mare sat in her office chair, reclined and spinning on the swivel. Whereas various papers were normally strewn across the busy mayor’s office, her office was spotless today, the desk completely cleared off and polished. The mayor eventually slowed down her rotation enough to stop, facing away from Twilight. “Why?” she asked.

“Ma’am, it’s a nightmare out there,” Twilight said. “The weather team is scrambling. Nopony’s sure if it should be raining or sunny today. Ponies in the marketplace are bickering over prices, and whether or not anything actually costs money. Some ponies have begun to protest by rioting and not destroying city property. It’s complete chaos right now!”

“That’s terrible news.” The mayor turned around and leaned back in her chair, setting her legs up on the desk and folding her hooves behind her head.

“Ms. Mayor, I think it would be best if you repealed opposite day.”

The mayor nodded. “As do I.”

Twilight looked around the empty room, disappointed that nopony else was in the room to tell her whether or not she was going crazy. “So, are you going to do something about it, or what?”

“Of course, dear, right away,” the mayor said, not moving from her chair, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Twilight then understood. Mayor Mare was in full-fledged opposite day mode, which meant that by what she had just said, she was going to do nothing about it. Twilight fumbled for a moment, realizing that if she was going to get through to the mayor, she’d have to play along as well. She licked her lips, choosing her words carefully. “Ponyville is completely normal right now, and… it’s not because of opposite day.”

Mayor Mare looked out the window at the town square, observing some of the protesting ponies. “You mean to say it was a complete success.”

“No, that’s not—I mean, yes!” Twilight shut her eyes, frustrated. Straining her brain, she searched for the right words to make sure that she conveyed what she wanted to say. She spoke slowly. “I believe your decision to make opposite day official was a great idea.”

Mayor Mare turned and leaned forward in her chair, placing her hooves on the desk. She squinted as she looked over the princess, her brows furrowed. “Do you mean to say that you trust my judgement?”

“Yes—no.” Twilight groaned, the logicistics of this argument taking its toll. The words felt so strange coming out of her mouth. “I don’t trust you.”

“How awful,” the mayor said, relaxing her features and smiling. “You’re the worst community member I’ve ever consulted, and I don’t value your input. However, I must insist on repealing opposite day.”

Twilight’s ears perked up, hopeful for a few seconds, then realized the mayor was still speaking in opposites. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good.” Mayor Mare said, reassuming her original position, leaning back and folding her arms behind her head.

Twilight stood in the doorway, paralyzed. Mayor Mare seemed so secure in her decision to keep opposite day. Was there anything to gain in trying to convince her otherwise? Annoyed, Twilight turned around to leave, determined to fix this problem without the mayor’s help for now. “Have a horrible day,” she said before closing the door behind her.

Mayor Mare swiveled a bit more in her chair, smirking, letting the disguise dissipate. His body stretched as he reverted to his normal self, his beige front hooves poofing back into his lion paw and eagle talon. Discord allowed himself a hushed cackle.

He spun in his chair as he surveyed the streets, watching ponies march this way and that through the town square with their fire extinguishers and pitchspoons, chanting about how much they wanted to keep the holiday.

Discord stroked his beard, as proud as he was amused. “I must say, playing mayor has been the least fun I’ve had in years.”