One Flu Over The Cuckoo's Nest
Roseluck considered herself to be a fortunate pony, for she was one of the very few who understood the nature of Truth. It didn't come from Facts, because those were lies created by those who wished to force you into false beliefs. There was no validity to be found in what was so often presented as Evidence: that was just a hoax which was trying to use props. No, Truth was simply what you knew in your heart, because the mind (the free mind!) of a pony who had escaped what others so dearly wished for her to think... why, that mind could surely conceive of nothing else!
Truth was that which Roseluck told herself. This was occasionally assisted by helpful articles which were... well, on the most technical level, they were written down and she was paying for them, so it was possible to describe them as 'published'. The same generous allotment of qualifier would allow a neutral observer who wasn't choking on the word to label the barely-bound results as 'magazines', although just about all of them had been printed in a basement. Those editors whose parents weren't willing to put up with the stamping noises from below had to go with mouthwriting and in Roseluck's opinion, the less legible the writing, the more intelligent the author. It just made sense. Geniuses didn't slow down for calligraphy.
She was a truly fortunate mare, because she also understood the nature of the world. To wit, she recognized that it was run by a giant Conspiracy, one so far-reaching that it had somehow arranged for Sun and Moon to require direct control, thus guaranteeing that there could never be a change in leadership and, incidentally, providing the Conspiracy with something they could quite literally hold over everypony's heads. Roseluck knew that the Conspiracy did its best to dictate every part of a pony's life. It had the power to do that, because it was big enough to control everything while manipulating nearly everypony. It could alter nations, silence voices, make dissidents vanish, and the fact that a Conspiracy which could do all of that never seemed to get around to invading the dark, lonely basements of those who understood Truth was just one of those things which proved that free minds still had a chance to win.
How blessed was Roseluck? Most of those who Understood were alone, connected only by a network of shoddy publications and bleeding ink.
Roseluck had friends.
She'd met them soon after moving for the eighth time, because those who Understood usually wound up drawing the attention of police departments which didn't. (Seriously: everypony who Knew recognized that the charge called Riot: Attempting To Induce was actually just a way of shutting down Public Education: Soapbox-Hosted Lectures Regarding.) It had just been the purest of great fortune, having that lone ray of Sun show her just enough of the familiar cover, and after that... she'd had to go into the alley, tell her new allies that there was no need to keep their reading confined to the shadows. Not when there was a friend waiting to escort them into the light.
So Truth had become what three mares believed, because a Trio of hearts was that much more True than one. Truth was something you could say and hear repeated back to you with the perfection of an echo. And the world had a way of reacting to such perfect alliances of Love and Thought: namely, by labeling everypony within the Flower Trio as barely-functional paranoids who were addicted to the rush they gained from fear, and so spent their lives looking for both more things to be afraid of and false reasons to justify the fear. The soapbox lectures were supposedly just their way of spreading that fear around, trying to make everypony just as frightened as they were: this just-as-supposedly allowed them the chance to create their own herd structure and if they could just make enough other ponies go through the same perpetual rush of adrenaline and terror, there would be so many shielding bodies around them that... they would just blend in. They would be normal.
This was, of course, a lie, because that was the Conspiracy's favorite way of discrediting Thinkers. Roseluck wasn't paranoid, nor was she addicted to the wonderful feeling of insight which came from a pounding heart and trembling limbs, something so essential to turning insight into Truth that she sought it out at every opportunity.
She was free. So were her friends. The Conspiracy hadn't gotten to any of them yet and as long as they remained united against things like repeatedly-suggested psychiatric evaluations, they never would. And in Ponyville, which offered a never-ending parade of chances to make the population understand... that was where she'd finally found her final home.
Ponyville had monsters. (One of them worked in the library.) It had wild magic, chaos which dropped by without appointment because schedules were boring, and things which gave ponies endless reasons for being afraid. For some reason, it was a place where the Conspiracy sometimes cracked, and that was why it had placed six of its agents into positions of power within the town. (The bakery was regarded as being the strongest of those, because it was possible to do a lot with food additives.) And where there were cracks... ponies could start to doubt, when caught up in the heart of fear. Doubting ponies could be educated.
They were just like sheep, really, at least when they were young: it was one of the reasons the Trio so often felt sorry for them. Young ponies believed what they were told, schools told them the wrong things, and... they just never grew up enough to ask the right questions. But ponies could be shocked out of that state: Roseluck and her friends were the truest Proof! With ponies, it was possible to win!
Unlike sheep, who just spent their entire lives believing the last thing they were told, regardless of how it sounded compared to what they'd been told before, as long as it was said by somepony who spoke with authority.
The newest restraining order said the Trio weren't allowed to go near Applejack's ovine tenants any more.
(It had been such a good plan. They'd just never found anypony who could provide a sufficient supply of earplugs enchanted to let through Our Voices Only.)
The sheep misadventure had kept them all out of the loop for several days, because Daisy's father was recognized as one of the best lawyers on the continent and so there were times when he had to do things other than keeping his daughter and her friends out of prison. Daisy often claimed that he was just a few moments of vital Thought away from coming around to their side, but Roseluck felt that just being part of the legal system could reinforce the corruption... well, at any rate, they might not have gotten him to try working from within, but she was grateful that his interventions allowed them to continue operating from without. He'd even arranged a special holding cell for them (with attached dedication plaque), which was big enough for three mares to wait in comfort until he could free them yet again and, unknown to the Trio, have one more weary discussion with police chief Miranda Rights about just how difficult it was to legally force an adult mare into therapy.
It had been rather late at night when they'd been released, after several days when just about all they'd had for company was each other: they were certainly the only ponies whom each cared to speak with. It had left them heading home under Moon, at an hour when they were the only ponies traveling through those parts of town. They didn't see or talk to anypony, none of them could be bothered to check a notice board, and each came across enough rustling leaves and wind-swayed branches to make them jump. (It had been a few days, and so getting enough branches required a few detours.) They didn't have the strength to start going through piled-up newspapers and magazines: the former told you what the latest lies were, the latter helped you to see through them and in order to prevent such things from becoming confused, it was really best to get a good night's sleep.
So they slept. And after her morning toiletries were followed by the usual post-hold check to make sure no mysterious books had been placed on her shelves and verifying that the birds outside weren't singing anything subliminal, Roseluck mournfully counted the amount of food which had spoiled during their latest unwarranted incarceration. It was just one of the ways in which the Conspiracy tried to get back at them, and it meant she had to go shopping.
But that turned out to be the best thing. Because if she'd stayed in her home, none of it would have happened.
The general rule was that if multiple ponies were doing something, the Conspiracy was behind it. This naturally meant the Conspiracy had arranged for things like school, marriage, child-raising, and allowing your money to be held hostage by a bank: Roseluck did her best to avoid all of it. (Excepting those holidays where not going along with things made you look too suspicious, plus then you didn't get any candy. And Nightmare Night offered so many chances for insight!) But you needed groups to be taking part in the activity, and so the first masked pony didn't really register.
Neither did the second.
Or the third.
The existence of the tenth on up, however, showed her the Truth.
Everypony on and above the streets -- somewhat less ponies than usual for an early morning on a weekday -- was wearing a partial mask.
They were nowhere near as elaborate as the typical Nightmare Night construct: it was always possible to tell that you were looking at a pony and for the most part, identification of individuals could be made long before her stare reached anypony's mark. The majority of the masks took the form of cloth which covered the end of the snout. They arced over the nostrils and curved under the chin, like undersized cheap feedbags which had been jammed onto the wearer. A single large, thin loop of stretchy fabric went over the mane, anchoring the entire thing against the back of the neck.
They were colorful: most wearers had chosen masks to compliment their own hues. (A few had gem chips in strategic locations.) They were a little bit loose at the sides: Roseluck could see the edges shift a little as ponies moved, breathed, and cheerfully greeted each other. Each possessed a little extra fabric at the front, so that talking could take place with normal jaw movements. And they were universal. Mares, stallions, fillies and colts on their way to school... there was nopony who had chosen to appear in public without a mask.
Nopony except Roseluck.
And so she became aware that they were -- looking at her. At fully-exposed features, ones which were just attractive enough to get her occasional interest from new arrivals in town: she typically used the opportunity for evaluating which part of the Conspiracy had sent them, and they would conclude the encounter by inquiring about the closest escape route.
Something had happened. The Conspiracy was trying something new and somehow, Roseluck had missed the opening stage. There were ponies noticing her...
She lowered her head, trotted all the faster (which brought fear, and so truly started the day), and felt the stares driving into her mane.
Roseluck's house was fairly close to Barnyard Bargains. It was convenient for shopping and when just about every bit you spent fed some part of the Conspiracy, there was a natural tendency to go looking for low prices.
Masked ponies were going into the store. Others were coming out with purchases. Still more masks could be seen through the huge front windows, adorning the half-hidden features of cashiers.
Roseluck took a breath. Headed through the doors, and found herself the instant target of what felt like several dozen stares as ponies instinctively turned towards the different.
She held her ground. (Her knees were beginning to tremble: the hind part had started first. That was one of the best feelings.) And a middle-aged brown earth pony who'd been speaking to somepony near the checkout counters glanced in her direction, softly sighed to himself, and reluctantly trotted over to greet her.
Roseluck waited for him, because she needed to hear what he had to say. Wealth was one of the surest signs that somepony ranked high in the Conspiracy: it took care of its own, and the Trio knew that the library's basement was filled with piles of bits. Twilight claiming the doors were locked to keep ponies from being injured by the lab equipment? An obvious coverup, as was the group Bearer inability to demonstrate any personal wealth at all. They were just that good.
But this pony was openly wealthy -- well, he had an estate, and enough stores to indicate he was one of those used to exert national control, and... his daughter always got the birthday present she wanted most. When it came to displays of that wealth, that was it.
That was one of the reasons he was so highly-ranked. Restraint.
"I'm sorry, Roseluck," he sighed with what sounded to her like well-practiced patience and, to everypony else, came across as the natural weariness of anypony who had to deal with the Trio more than once in their lifetime. "But you can't shop unless you're wearing a mask. Temporary palace orders."
He'd just told her that the palace was openly involved. In full public hearing...
Mr. Rich gently smiled. It was just possible to make out the movement of his lips behind the blue fabric.
"But I have a few for ponies in your situation," he offered as he momentarily inclined his head to the left, indicating a box near the doors. "Never previously worn, of course. We heated them before sealing the bags." With another, smaller sigh, "I really don't want to see anypony in a situation where they need a mask just to be capable of buying a mask. You can keep it. Just make sure you arrange for some extras, because you really shouldn't be relying on one --"
"-- the palace," she starkly said.
It was a rather interesting sort of expression. There was exhaustion buried in the deeper layers, with resignation near the surface and a sort of dogged determination serving as the glue. Roseluck usually interpreted it as something which went with the Conspiracy and in the case of Mr. Rich, it was just the sign of somepony whose store was her usual first shopping resort and therefore had some idea of how the conversation was about to go.
"Yes," he valiantly began. "A couple of days ago. It's in every newspaper. And all over the town's bulletin boards. You've just been --" he hesitated "-- inside?"
"I haven't talked to anypony for a few days," she tightly declared.
Mr. Rich had a lot of experience with Roseluck and in this case, that included having had a few soapboxes assembled in front of the store. (Watching the fallout then became a reluctant spectator sport.) "Didn't they tell you anything before they let you out?"
There had been papers passed into the cell for the Trio's consideration, and they had naturally considered that anything the Conspiracy was delivering through the police wasn't worth reading. "No. What's going on?"
The stallion's tail swayed a little. The tip was already beginning to fray.
"It's some new strain of flu," he told her. "Not fatal, but... harsh enough that most of the ponies who get it wind up asking why death is supposed to be bad. And the palace physicians think it's extremely contagious. But they noticed that medical teams who had normal surgical masks on when they were around patients... those doctors weren't getting sick. So their theory is that it might be transmitted by something that's carried in the breath. Wearing a mask can help to stop it. And this is spreading so fast, with so many ponies falling ill, that the hospitals are having a hard time keeping up. So to keep some space open for other patients, and to protect everypony else until a cure can be found -- everypony has to wear masks when they're out in public. For a little while."
The gentle smile also had a sort of valiance about it. You needed a certain degree of valiance to go into battle when you were going to spend the entire fight kicking at a steel wall.
"So let's just pick one out for you --"
"-- no."
"...no," Mr. Rich carefully repeated.
Roseluck was thinking fast, and most of those thoughts were wishes to think faster. The situation was frightening: being caught up in something the Conspiracy wanted, something new... it couldn't be anything but scary. But it currently wasn't scary enough to speed her thoughts, to have her reacting at the full gallop of terror as a mind operating at its peak found a way to perceive Truth. All she currently knew was that the palace wanted everypony to wear masks and therefore, that was the thing she shouldn't do. She just had to find a way around it.
"I have a medical condition," Roseluck declared, "which keeps me from wearing masks. They're not healthy for me. So I can't wear one. Are the avocados on sale? I missed the circular."
There had been ponies who'd turned to look at her when she'd entered the store, through instinctive recognition of the different. Some of them were now moving subtly closer, because in the presence of this level of opportunity for theater, there was also an equally-instinctive need for the audience to get there early and pick a good seat.
"A medical condition," Mr. Rich tried, which really wasn't the kind of echo Roseluck liked.
"Yes."
Rather naturally, "What is it?"
"The state of my health," Roseluck triumphantly stated, "is subject to privacy laws. Only my doctor is allowed to know, and without my giving direct permission, she's only going to tell me." Not that she trusted anypony enough to look after her medically, especially when half of all known diseases were faked, the rest were just excuses to get more money from ponies through the sale of non-home remedies, and most of her post-faint examinations were conducted by the same loathed nurse -- but the law which had prevented her from discovering just how mentally ill the so-called Bearers truly were had just been turned against the Conspiracy! That was what a free mind could do! "So you'll just have to let me shop, won't you?"
He looked at her for a few seconds. All around them, curious tails arranged themselves for the long haul.
"The law," Mr. Rich carefully said, "tells me that I can't let anypony shop without a mask. A lot of ponies haven't been developing symptoms immediately: it's generally been at least two days after exposure before anything feels wrong. But the doctors have been tracking the spread, and they're sure that ponies who still feel all right can be sick enough to give this flu to somepony else. I know you wouldn't want to infect your friends --"
"If everypony else is wearing a mask, then they're all protecting me!" It had been a leap of logic, and her ears perked with open self-pride. "I don't have to wear one, because I'm already safe!"
He hesitated again.
"Masks slip," he tried. "Or somepony takes it off for a second, thinking they're alone --"
"-- then why bother wearing one at all?"
"Because we're trying." There was an increasing, fully familiar note of desperation in his words. "It's not perfect, and we're just working with a theory to begin with. We think this can help keep ponies safe. We hope. But it takes all of us, Roseluck, because what you just said about everypony else... maybe it's true. Maybe if everypony else wears one, you're okay."
She began to take a single step forward. Moving past him, into the store --
"-- but every last one of us is 'somepony else' to everypony else," he softly said. "Your idea protects one pony. If another pony decides that means her, there's two. The numbers go up fast when it's a continent of ponies thinking that way. Eventually, one of them is going to be sick, and they're going to meet 'somepony else'. I'm sorry, Roseluck." Brown shoulders squared. "There's a law, because the palace is doing what it can to keep ponies safe. If you don't want to wear a mask, then you're welcome to not wear one -- in your own home. Not here."
Her right foreleg froze, with her hoof still a few tail strands away from the floor. She stared at him.
"I'll get you some paper," Mr. Rich quietly added. "You step outside, write out the list of what you needed, and I'll shop for you. It'll be delivered to your home. You can send back a voucher. Or if you don't have any at home, just pay me when things are normal again. Because you won't be able to get into the bank either. But I'm not going to let you go hungry."
There was a reason why he had so many stores, and the ponies gathered in the audience were beginning to recognize it. Roseluck, however, was merely at the point of almost respecting her opponent.
"I won't write it down."
With the curiosity inherent to the doomed, "Why?"
"My purchases are private. What I want to buy is my business. Nopony else needs to know that."
Most of the tail was frayed now. "My cashiers," Mr. Rich patiently said, "need to see what you're buying. In order to get a total. So you can pay for it."
She thought about that.
"Did you ever consider running a self-checkout on the honor system --"
"-- inventory," the businesspony wearily replied, "needs replacing. Roseluck..." and the little pause told her that he'd just experienced the delusion of having thought of something "...you wear Hoovmat suits."
Roseluck hesitated.
"Yes..." she reluctantly admitted, because that was public knowledge. "Which you refuse to sell --"
"I don't like carrying things which can't be put on racks. Or shelves. Or, for that matter, fur, without falling apart," Mr. Rich politely countered. "Hoovmat suits are sold as protective clothing, aren't they?"
"Yes..." she repeated as her ears began to go back. She didn't know where he was going with this: she just suspected she wasn't going to like it.
"Protection from what?"
"Wild zones," she immediately replied. "This town is practically an extension of the Everfree, everypony knows that! The color tells everything that I'm a pony, because it doesn't occur in nature and so that means I'm not something to be attacked." He was silent, and so she pushed on. "Oh, and they're good against insects. And Cutie Pox, because they stop the transmission of up to one percent of magical illnesses. And wrackspurts."
The audience was now confused, which just proved how much they need the precious protective suits. (Roseluck currently ordered ten every moon, and the latest shipment had been embroidered with her name. The suits seemed to hold together a little better around the embroidery.)
"Wrackspurts," said a random pony in the audience, mostly so nopony else would need to.
"They're invisible," Roseluck stated, because no opportunity for Education should be missed. "So no one's ever seen or cataloged one, not in a way which ponies will allow in so-called nature books. And they're also mostly intangible, except to Hoovmat suits, which stop them cold. They fly into your ears and make you think strangely. So if you find yourself confused a lot, you should get a suit. And keep your ears down as much as possible."
This produced one of the more frequent responses to Knowledge: a moment of total silence.
"So if you accept that the suits protect you against some things," Mr. Rich tried, "why not let a mask protect you from the flu?"
"Because wrackspurts are real," Roseluck told the most local part of the world. "I haven't seen or heard anything which proves there's any flu! And how could a disease travel on somepony's breath? Breath is just air! What's in air which a disease could live on? This supposed theory is just stupid, and if anypony really Thought about it --"
Which was when she heard her salvation, and it came in the form of a monster. A menace which both lived and worked in town, under the complete lack-of-control provided by the most insane of the Bearers. It had nearly destroyed the town, and everypony else had made the mistake of forgiving it. Roseluck hadn't. She knew it was dangerous, and she told everypony who would listen. Her friends were always smart enough to nod.
But in this case, her ears had picked up on the unnatural sound of claws moving across a floor, and then salvation walked past her using the sickening warp which was a mere two legs, scales glittering slightly as they passed beneath the store's lighting.
"-- he's not wearing a mask! Why didn't you stop him?"
The monster didn't even glance back at those words. It knew who was talking, and so made the very sensible decision to get out of sight, quickly pushing its smaller body through the forest of surrounding pony legs.
"Because," Mr. Rich heroically stated, drawing the attention of those who hadn't known it was vocally possible to do that, "he's a dragon. He can't catch or carry a pony illness. He offered to make deliveries to the homes of those who are sickest. He's been in and out for days --"
But something else had just occurred to her. "The masks cover our mouths! I'm an earth pony --"
"-- so am I --"
"-- and my mouth would be covered! How am I supposed to pick things up?"
"There's some flexibility around the jaw," Mr. Rich answered. "You can't get as good a tooth grip as usual, but --"
Thinking faster than ever, as the fear of losing to the Conspiracy continued to build, "Dragons don't have to wear masks! Unicorns can do perfectly well with one on, and how are you even supposed to get the things on, anyway? Pegasi can at least use wings for basic leverage..."
And she had it.
"SPECIES DISCRIMINATION!" What else would she expect from a policy created by alicorns? (Who weren't necessarily at the head of the Conspiracy. There were some theories that Cadance was just being used.) They were using the masks to drive a wedge between the pony races! It was all so obvious, at least for those who could Think! "NOPONY HERE SHOULD EVER STAND QUIETLY AND ALLOW --"
It went on for a while, and meant she completely missed his final sigh. Because kicking a wall was good exercise. You could get a workout in that way, and it was certainly a means of practicing your skills.
"Security?" Mr. Rich quietly requested, and three of the watching ponies closed in.
But the wall always won.
He'd had an order form sent to her house. It was currently resting in the center of the three mares, where it was serving as Exhibit C.
They'd assembled on the floor of the deeply-shadowed living room as quickly as possible, because it was easier for free minds to find Truth when they worked in groups. Roseluck needed the wisdom which came from having her own perspective repeated back at her. It was easy to tell when somepony was truly thinking for themselves, and the surest sign of that precious state was agreeing with everything Roseluck said.
The Trio was together again, although Daisy and Lily had reported encountering some difficulties along the way. They had each come across the newest Conspiracy plot in their own way, the initial post-reunion time had been spent in updating each other, and Lily had just wrapped up her portion.
She'd been the last to arrive. Ponies had kept stopping her on the street.
"To freely offer you a mask," Roseluck darkly said.
"Yes," Lily nodded, and her tail protectively curled in against her body. "They said I shouldn't be without one, until I could get more."
"So they really want us wearing them..." Daisy considered. "Badly enough that they want us to have the first one for free."
They all nodded. Nothing was more suspicious than free.
"Is there even a disease at all?" Roseluck asked. "Maybe the Conspiracy is taking ponies away for a while. To do something to them. And the disease is the cover. Did you see anypony who was sick?"
"If you're sick enough to have symptoms," Daisy assisted, "and it's not bad enough for the hospital, then you're supposed to stay home. Somepony told me that. And those houses have Quarantine signs on the doors."
"So you can't look in to see if there's anypony home," Roseluck darkly observed. "And most ponies would be scared off. That's clever of them. We should try to get inside..."
It was a scary thought, and the resulting shiver felt wonderful.
"Eventually," Daisy replied. "But we need to figure out what's really happening first."
"I don't even understand the masks," Lily admitted as her ears protectively dropped back against her skull: it was a bad time for confusion, and her shipment was still in transit. (Roseluck was wearing her Hoovmat suit. It was just common sense.) "They leak at the sides, don't they? And through the fabric. So air gets in. Doesn't that mean something which rides air could get in? The Conspiracy must have decided nopony would think of that."
And her friend had. Roseluck smiled, and vowed to spend some time cuddling with both mares as soon as it was over. She was so fortunate...
"And you're breathing your own air," Lily added, trembling enough to vibrate the nearby fully-drawn curtains. "All the time."
Grey-gold eyes brightened. Roseluck and Daisy arced their necks forward.
"You just Thought of something," Daisy breathlessly said. "I heard it."
"Keep going!" Roseluck encouraged. "Find Truth!"
"...air goes bad in the lungs," Lily breathed. "Or you wouldn't breathe it out again. You push the bad air out, and some of it gets trapped in the mask. So you're always breathing a little bad air, maybe more. Not enough to die, but enough to be a different kind of sick. Like you're a little drunk, and stupid..."
"So that's part of the plan!" Daisy decided as her tail thumped a nearby lamp stand. "To make ponies dumber than they already are! Brilliant, Lily!"
The addressed mare blushed. Roseluck decided not to postpone the cuddling.
"But I don't think that's the whole of it," she said after they'd separated a little and most of her suit had fallen apart under the pressure of nuzzling. "More of a side effect. It's just a good one for them. Why masks?"
"Sales?" Daisy proposed. "Ponies have to buy them."
"They're mostly making their own at home," Lily said, because their designated scout had been careful in gathering information. "But Rarity's making them for anypony who doesn't have the skills. You just bring in your own fabric and she only charges you for the time it takes to make one. Which is supposed to be about a minute, unless you want her to decorate a little."
"That's what she claims for the price," Roseluck darkly reminded them. "We don't know what her real cost is. And it means there's at least one Bearer involved as a direct distribution vector. Follow the bits, everypony. Who else is making money off this?"
"The stores, I guess," Daisy decided after a quick (and entirely wise) check of the curtains. "I heard there's been a run on hoof sanitizer. Prices are going up all over the place. Except at Barnyard Bargains."
"Well, he owns a bunch of smaller shops under a shadow umbrella," Roseluck reminded them. "That way, he gets to look good while he's still scooping in bits. They need their enforcers to be publicly acceptable..."
"I think he sent me an order form," Lily said. "I saw the monster going towards my door just before I turned off my street."
"Because they know we're friends," Roseluck reminded her. "They probably decided you wouldn't be going in either."
"It makes you wonder," Daisy shivered, "how much else They know."
The shivering tripled.
"Not enough," Roseluck firmly stated. "Never enough. Because we're still free. Lily, where else did you go?"
"Well, not the library. Obviously."
They all nodded. The Trio got their fiction from the tree -- Roseluck had a passion for a certain kind of mass-produced romance added to an inability to spot when the same plot had been replicated sixteen times -- but that was it. The library was the domain of two monsters, and the one which wore a pony's skin had been known to openly use emotion-manipulating spells: the palace's excuse of post-Discord PTSD had been readily seen by the mares as just that. They didn't risk being around Twilight any more than they had to, and that was without factoring in the direct flame-produced literal hotline to the Princesses.
(Additionally, when it came to non-fiction, books were collections of things which the Conspiracy wanted ponies to believe. The entire publishing industry served as the disinformation foreleg, and that meant learning from readily-available books was something best avoided. In the Trio's experience, the lower the print run, the more reliable the source. Self-published was best, because writing which no professional would touch had to include things which They didn't want you to know. And when it came to magazines printed on cheap paper where spellchecking was an unnecessary expenditure of time because a Conspiracy which wanted all ponies to think the same way naturally wished for words to come out identically... well, that was perfect.)
"Just around town," Lily added. "But I couldn't go into any stores, and ponies kept looking at me. Before offering masks."
"That has to be the key," Daisy said. "The masks. Making them mandatory. Why? They say it's for disease..."
"Where would a new flu strain even come from?" Roseluck questioned. "How can there just be a new disease out of nowhere?" A little more quickly, "If there's a disease at all, of course."
"It could be an attack," Daisy proposed. "One part of the Conspiracy making a move on another. Like the griffon part!"
"I don't think griffon magic can create diseases," Lily replied. "At least not the magic they let us see. That's mostly about making knees tremble." They all nodded. The Trio occasionally took weekends in Canterlot so they could go around the Aviary and Embassy Row, hoping to find a member of the capital's griffon minority who would glare at them. "Zebras?"
"Zecora could be brewing anything," Roseluck considered. "Those fumes..."
"What about ibex?" Daisy asked.
Both of the other mares looked at her.
As a chorus, because echoes were so welcoming: "What's an ibex?"
"Something in the mountains. They left Equestria decades ago. That's what my latest issue of TrueThought said." She spread her forehooves. "That they were forced out because their magic was too great a threat to the Conspiracy. But the Conspiracy covered up all traces of what that magic is."
Which meant it could be ibex. "We'll look into it," Roseluck offered: the lack of effort required made more pieces of suit fall away. That meant a back issue hunt. And possibly ordering some Collector's Editions, which were the ones with the two-color covers. "But it'll take time to get the materials. Time Ponyville may not have. Go back to the starting gate. Is the disease even real?"
"I think it could be," Daisy considered, with her tail twitching accordingly. "It's a good excuse, but it's also a lot of ponies to make vanish at once."
"So how is it spread?" Lily asked. "Since it's not breath. All we know is that they want us wearing --"
All three momentarily stopped breathing at the exact same instant. That was how they knew they were friends.
"-- the masks," the Trio chorused.
And so Truth was found.
It was so obvious. The masks were the vector. Everypony had to wear one, by palace order. This meant everypony who'd gotten sick had clearly been wearing a mask. Additionally, some of the masks were going through Rarity, who was a unicorn. She could enchant those masks, and then there was something called The Law Of Similarity in magic which generally meant whatever the Trio needed it to. In this context, it obviously meant that coating a few masks in glow was good enough to enchant them all.
After they Thought about it for a while, even more became clear. The story was that you wore masks to keep from infecting others. So anypony who was visibly ill had to just keep wearing it, and that meant the cure was simple. But when it came to demonstrating it... that would require opportunity, and so the planning session had turned towards arranging the best chance to encounter one.
The palace wanted ponies to be sick. They had yet to work out why: a weapon against any possible Thinker rebellion felt like one possibility, although they hadn't ruled out an upcoming attack on Prance. But they had the core of it, and that meant it was nearly time to move.
"Got the collapsible soapboxes?" Roseluck asked.
"Outside in my cart," Daisy confirmed. "I got a new shipment to replace the ones that last crowd kicked apart." She paused, and her voice acquired a teasing lilt. "That's not all I got."
"Something came in from a magazine ad?" Lily excitedly asked, because any company which would pay to advertise in their favorite publications was worthy of their money. "What did you get?"
"The emergency hideout!" Daisy proudly announced as she moved towards the curtains: opening them back up before leaving was crucial for Appearances. "It's just like they said it would be! Big enough for three ponies to shelter in during a crisis!"
"How long did it take to put together?" Roseluck checked. "After you got it out of the box."
"No time at all!" Daisy smiled. "Because it was the box!"
They blinked at her.
"That's perfect!" Lily declared. "It's a stealth shipment! The Conspiracy can't intercept the contents because there aren't any! And nopony recognizes it as a hideout because it looks like a box!"
"Exactly!" Daisy grinned. "It took me a few seconds to figure it out. But that's why it only cost ninety bits. That's not even for shipping weight, it's the protective enchantments which have to be on it! And it can't be easy to enchant cardboard."
They all nodded. Sellers who advertised in their magazines were known to be generous with their products, and sold them at much less than what the Trio saw as the true cost. It was just a shame that the Conspiracy kept finding ways to sabotage things.
"We'll test it during the next storm," Roseluck decided. "Almost ready?"
"Yeah. Oh, I almost forgot. TrueThought had a retraction."
The other two paused.
"Really?" Roseluck asked.
"Right next to the copy of the lawsuit."
All three mares smiled at each other.
"I knew it," Roseluck breathed, and the echoes made her content. Because as all readers of basement publications knew, They would never go so far as to force a retraction unless they knew that story had been absolutely True. "Let's go."
There wasn't a lot of traffic in front of Ponyville's little hospital. Traffic was generally defined as something which was moving.
There had been traffic over the last few days: rather a lot of it. The flu strain wasn't fatal, but fighting it off could make a pony think of death as a preferable alternative. Some of those checked themselves into the hospital, just in case. And with others... well, with those who were elderly or already lived with some degree of illness, you could never be too careful. It was best to watch out for them, and so those sickened ponies claimed beds accordingly. An entire nation had covered their snouts just to make sure that none of the vulnerable discovered things were worse than had been suspected, in a rather final way.
But there wasn't any traffic or rather, there wouldn't be any for a few more minutes. The masked ponies who had been passing by the hospital were standing completely still, watching the Trio of mares who were standing on reassembled soapboxes, with the slightly elevated line about a body length away from the doors. For a few members of the audience, it even counted as a surprise encore.
"You have to understand!" Roseluck called out as she reared up onto her hind legs, giving her the momentary freedom to gesture with the fore. "It's about freedom! Freedom from Their thoughts! Don't you want to be free?"
"But we are free," a new arrival in town protested, mostly because the seagreen pegasus didn't know any better: several long-timers glared at her accordingly.
"Are you?" Daisy quickly asked. "You're obviously not free to be sick, if that's what the government is trying to prevent!"
The newcomer blinked.
"Why would I want to be sick?" she repeated her mistake.
"To stay home from school! So They can't fool you with their lies!" Daisy beamed. "I stayed home all the time!"
Much of the audience found their faith in public education reinforced.
"True freedom is doing whatever you need to!" Lily called out. "The palace doesn't give you freedom! It tells you that you've got rights! Freedom is better than rights!" And out of nowhere, "So the freedom to make somepony sick is stronger than the right to be healthy!"
Everypony looked at her, Roseluck and Daisy included. But Lily was prone to Thought, educating directly in front of the hospital was producing fear, and so it was possible that she'd just experienced insight. And regardless, they had to support their friend.
"You heard her!" Roseluck exclaimed. "What kind of world is it when you can't even make somepony sick! And you can't! The disease is real! But --"
"-- oh, good," sounded the voice of a very tired mare from behind them, close to the hospital doors. "You're letting the disease be real. I'd usually call that an improvement. Is there any chance that you'll move before I send somepony to get Miranda?"
The Trio turned, and found that exhausted light blue eyes had somehow found the strength to glare.
"We have the right to protest," Lily stated, immediately taking the legal position which was most convenient to their needs.
"To peacefully protest," Redheart countered as the pink tail continued to lash. "I don't think this qualifies. You're also close to the doors. I'm not sure a cart can get through and for some reason, lately, we've had a lot of ponies who needed to get in."
"Because of Them!" Roseluck hissed. "They're the ones doing that! You just have to listen --"
"-- is that a right, listening?" the white mare questioned. "Or a freedom?" And with a surge of fury. "Because I have the right to ignore your lunacy, and I'd love to be free of it. But I also have an oath, and that means somepony has to keep picking you all up after the faints. You're maskless, all of you, probably the only three ponies in public without them in the whole town, and that means you're vulnerable. We don't have that many beds left. We need them for the worst cases."
Her voice dropped to a hiss, and yet everypony still heard her.
"Try to care about other ponies, try to care about anypony who isn't one of you. Just try --"
"We wouldn't be doing this if we didn't care!" Roseluck screamed (and even her friends looked at her, while multiple audience tails collapsed in shock). "We're trying to protect you! We figured out the cure, Redheart, the Sun-struck cure!"
Which was when she gained the complete attention of just about the entire street, because there was a fine line between genius and lunacy. It could take close scrutiny to tell which side a pony was standing on, and a lot of time to convince yourself that even in the best case, the mare currently in question wasn't doing a lot of vaulting.
"And we can prove it!" the wail continued, almost completely drowning out the approaching patter of multiple hoofsteps. "All we need is --"
Conspiracies didn't listen. Ponies usually refused to be Educated. But the world was there, and sometimes the world provided.
Opportunity arrived.
The hoofsteps slowed, then stopped, because the soapboxes were too close to the doors and there was no room for the ambulance cart to get through. The adolescent unicorn mare riding on the back weakly looked up, slowly forced a breath through an emerald-chipped mask.
"Move!" the lead puller bellowed. "She's sick, she's as sick as anypony we've seen, we have to get her inside --"
They moved. The entire Trio, all at once, because they understood Opportunity. They each knew how the others thought: exactly as they should, in the True way. They were friends.
They also moved because they had the answer, and so before anypony could do anything, before pullers could unhitch, the audience could think about becoming participants, or Redheart could line up the first of the kicks she'd been holding back for years... before any of that could happen, all three of them were on the cart.
"The masks make you sick!" Roseluck shouted.
"The cure is taking them off!" Daisy screamed.
"We'll show you!" Lily wailed, and became the first to go for the adolescent's snout.
Which was how she discovered that a mask which nopony had told them how to put on wasn't all that easy to remove.
"Help me!" she cried as stretchy fabric didn't stretch enough, with the young mare too weak to kick her away. "Help me save her!"
Her friends pushed in. And there wasn't a lot of room, with three of them there. They kept bumping into each other, as well as the unicorn. There were several occasions when they all wound up breathing into each other's snouts, which very much included the unicorn. Repeated close contact occurred, along with some accidental nuzzles and what almost turned into what would have been one of history's worst first kisses. They struggled, they fought against the strap, they mostly got in each other's way and at the moment before Redheart jumped into the cart, they got the mask off.
"BEHOLD!" Roseluck screamed, and did so at a single hoofwidth away from the girl's face. "THE CURE!"
The unicorn blearily blinked. And then she coughed directly into Roseluck's nostrils.
Moisture flew, along with quite a bit of phlegm. Something green and half-congealed also made the journey, and the portion which landed on Roseluck's tongue felt as if it would be rather chewy.
"...oh," Roseluck said in the final instant when the white mare was still lining up the kick. "That's.... terrifying."
And then she fainted.
There was a certain need for extra beds, and that was something a holding cell already had. Besides, the dedication plaque had their names on it.
"I've been thinking," Roseluck said between hacking coughs. "The Conspiracy wouldn't want to get too many ponies sick at once. They'd lose a lot of work time. And profit."
Lily nodded, at least on the third attempt: the muscle aches were giving her that much trouble. "Too much profit."
"So the disease is real," Daisy considered, and then twisted her head to rest on the last bit of pillow which hadn't been saturated with sweat. "And the masks aren't to blame, because we never wore one."
"Right."
They looked at each other. They were free to do that, when they shared a cell. It was the sort of freedom which was important.
"So I think... that we didn't Think enough," Roseluck weakly decided. "We haven't found the right angle..."
"Hoofsteps," Lily weakly cautioned. "Hold the thought."
They all went silent and after a few seconds, Nurse Redheart was in front of the bars.
"There's been a cure found," the mare curtly announced. "I'm using the only twenty minutes I've had off in the last week to tell you that. The palace physicians have a cure, and it also acts as a vaccine against future illness. Everypony in Equestria's going to receive the injection, by Princess order. It'll stop this strain and prevent all future outbreaks. It's going to take a few days to make enough for everypony, but Ponyville should be in the first wave."
No response.
"Anything to say about that?"
The Trio was silent.
"Good. Let me know when you need more water."
She furiously trotted away, and they waited until the echoes of her hoofsteps faded before they spoke again.
"A cure," Lily weakly said. "That's good."
"That's very good," Daisy agreed. "Health is good."
But Roseluck, who'd always been afraid of needles, had just been through a Thought.
"A cure," she considered, "and a vaccine."
"That's what she said," Lily confirmed.
"Which is going to be injected into everypony in the nation," the True Thinker continued. "By Princess order."
Her perfect friends looked at her.
"It's in the injection..." Daisy breathed. "Of course..."
"Call for water," Roseluck smiled as the arriving tide of fresh terror licked at her hooves. "We need to be hydrated if we're going to Think about what this could mean. Oh, and ask for some paper. We need to work on what we're going to say in front of the palace."
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You can write 8k words in ONE DAY?
She's trying to suggest carbon monoxide poisoning? This is the closest to a real thing they've come.
So they aren't actually insane, just selfish emotional jerks? That's nice.
Not bad. It must be nice to have such an efficient medical system. Hopefully the trio will learn from this and hopefully they could get some help.
Rather like fed-up griffons trying to make their own dominance chains, or humans who...
Well, goodness knows we have enough examples of those.
I have to love the mental image of the Trio mixing up which is which and accidentally trying to warn ponies about the actual truth. The sheer confusion that would ensue would do Discord proud.
Well, if nothing else, Equestria gets germ theory out of this mess.
Hmm. Do ponies even have toilet paper? Almost certainly not; the logistics for earth ponies... Changing diapers is bad enough. Plus, I doubt it works well with the local toilets.
That is Ankh-Morpork-level street agitation right there.
A terrifying glimpse into the mind (deliberate singular) of adrenaline junkies even more strung out than Rainbow Dash. At least she actually performs some acts of heroism. Thank you for the insight.
You know what the real question is? Where can I find that mask, I want one.
10244203
Here you go. Other MLP masks are available at the main Etsy link in the long description.
10244209
Thank you, now I can go shopping in style.
10244199
Dang unicorns and their fancy-schmancy toilet paper. We scoot on our butts over the grass like proper earth ponies!
As for pegasi... beware clouds with brown streaks on em...
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10244217
I go with actual horse anatomy: no toilet paper is needed and locally, ponies use trenches. Bidets with scent-neutralizing water are occasionally called into action, but that means using a fur dryer after.
10244166
Anyone can... But doing 8k words of finely crafted prose, in, actually about half a day, if the blog post was before it's actual start, takes focus and a clear mind.
Or something. Whatever, this is good!
10244182
Adrenaline addicted, and got a lawyer to save them. And it's hard to get them into therapy.
Wondering about Daisy's mother...
They're also a mini-herd... Hmm... Developments in other stories...
----
WOW. Sooo close!
And soo close to getting to something about cutie marks! Oooh, that dramatic irony!
----
Well, they're in love, or lust... 'Cause this sure isn't just friendship!
----
Hmm... Hoovmat hasn't went out of business yet...
I wonder if I've ever wondered what they think about the Secret...
As with seeing every downvote on Lootspheres as representing an EA employee, every red thumb on this story will be regarded as having come from someone who tried to inject themselves with bleach. And to quote my own recent tweet:
Oooo... I didn’t expect this so soon. We’ll have to check it out tomorrow.
With ponies this prone to conspiracy, it's a wonder that nobody has tried to convince them that there's actually a conspiracy to make them seem like loons in public. This conspiracy is naturally to cover up a different conspiracy, and is used to discredit anyone who knows about it.
I felt rage reading this. Well done.
This was a scary look into the thought of those idiots we see on TV. The chain of thoughts that leads to the unfortunate conclusion, it's very disheartening that there are people who do think like that.
And I like your explanation for why the trio act like they are, an addiction of the adrenaline caused by fear combined with a good mix of bad education and a heavy diet of underground conspiracy reading, making the brain go in circles...
There is no hope for them isn't it?
And a thumbs up for Spike being a good soul and helping out like that.
So, they paid 90 bits for a cardboard box. And when it fails to protect them through the next rainstorm it will be because They got to it while it was in the post. Because They obviously run the post offices.
Do Film and Flam have a new business going? One they don’t even have to go out in public for?
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One would expect that the Bidet was created long ago in pony culture, if only for the reason that there cant be enough clean green areas in a city to drag ones butt on, nor enough soft trees.
I just spent last night learning about the rabbit hole of madness that is QAnon. And now you drop this in front of me.
So here. Allow me to drop this in front of you.
imgs.xkcd.com/comics/conspiracy_theories.png
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10244222
Department Of
Could
Be Worse
*I* go with "They DO need someone to wipe their ass when they take a dump"
https://www.fimfiction.net/group/214857/triptych-continuum-rebooted
Estee, you never fail to please me. Another excellent work. <3
10244182
Carbon dioxide. CO2, not CO.
I think the terms to describe the flower trio are "conspiratorial psychopathology" and "delusional ideation".
I had a good laugh when I realized the scene between Roseluck and Rich was a recreation of that viral video. The rest, unfortunately, was a bit hard to handle. I had to skim about 50% of this.
I read Pony for escapism. The very special mindset you've depicted between the flower trio is a very real Problem with a capital P in the real world. Reading that thought process spelled out like this keeps reminding me of the Problem this represents in the real world, so it just ends up being painful. It could still be worth it if there was a payoff at the end, but alas...
When I saw you wrote a fic about Pandumbic, I stopped everything to read this right away. I've read about your thoughts on the human condition through your fics and I know you have a lot of good things to say. I had hoped the flower trio would go through a short character arc to be knocked out of their special mindset, but alas... this was just a spotlight on a cracked egg on the floor. 'Here be a terrible situation; let's gawk.'
This fic is a seed you just planted in very fertile soil. There's a lot to be said about this topic. Would you consider extending this story to give the flower trio the help they desperately need? Or, to shine a spotlight on not just THAT they are wrong, but WHY they are wrong? Your words might help break someone in the real world out of the mindset.
Let's hope Ponies never invent the Internet, or Equestria is doomed.
There is one thing that the Flower Ponies reminded me of: don't do intense physical exercise while wearing masks, as it can actually restrict breathing.
Great story! Always love your stories Estee.
A couple years ago, I had the odd displeasure of encountering someone who truly believed the moon landing was a hoax. I was dumbstruck, and I mean that in the sense that I felt as though the dumb leapt out and smacked me. I didn't think I would ever meet one of them.
I almost asked the woman if she believed the Earth was flat, too, but by the time my brain had unscrambled, she was far enough away that I'd have been shouting for everyone nearby to hear.
Meanwhile, where I live, almost nobody is following CDC guidelines.
Keep it clean, folks.
This didn't upset me as much as I thought it would, even though I'd seen the video of that Karen telling the store manager she couldn't wear a mask because of "medical reasons." I guess I'm just numb.
I used to run a homeless shelter, and we had a woman there who seemed normal, but just talking to her for five minutes let you know she Wasn't. Quite. Right. She was convinced that anyone who whistled within her earshot was insulting her because she's Jewish, as well as any store that sold anything vaguely hexagonal. (Don't ask me to explain.) The fact that she wasn't Jewish never interrupted her conviction, and the last I saw her (We had to have her removed after she kicked another tenant) she was trying to arrange a lawsuit with the local grocery store for selling "hexagonal-shaped doughnuts." She told me with great pride she was going to get a settlement in the "trillions," so if I wanted my share I wouldn't kick her out. I had no choice.
So I've met people just as delusional as the Flower Trio. As long as I don't have to directly interact with people like that, it just makes me sad.
I feel kind of sorry for the Flower Trio here. They're somehow despicable yet distinctly pitiable.
So even the nut jobs have a soft spot for Cadance?
And the Flower Trio do have a point about a government were the top two positions can literally never be changed ....
The sad thing is, they put a lot of genuine effort into trying to figure this out, but with their logic pathways so corrupted they are fundamentally unable to conceive of a benign situation. They're capable of logic and critical thought, they came up with two real problems with the masks even, but their fundamental paradigms are so horrifically distorted.
10244294
Honestly, I'm not even sure F&F would go to this level. I mean, they'd sell them telepathy-proof hats or summat, absolutely. But 90 bits for a cardboard box? That feels like too much even for them.
What a delightful piece of complete fiction that surely bears no resemblance to reality. Right? ...Right?
(...Well, I enjoyed the story, at least.)
10244234
Or they could just not like this style of writing and want the site to know without a giant conspiracy being needed.
Wait a minute...
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I really don't consider my Hatedom to be a giant conspiracy. It's more of an outlier cult.
But I'm told the ceremonial sacrifices are to die for.
Or from.
One of those.
How in the world did they managed to get a subscription to the The Quibbler? (or more likely, three subscriptions). I suppose it makes a certain amount of sense, if only the small publications made in some ponies basement can be trusted, then a publication made by a mythical creature that they have been told doesn't exist must be even more trustworthy. The fact that it comes by owl instead of the post office just means it's harder for the conspiracy to intercept.
I do feel a little bit of sympathy for the trio, I used to be a conspiracy nut when I was younger (mostly dealing with aliens and the JFK assassination). They clearly can think logically, it's just that if you start with bad data, you can logically come up with a horribly wrong answer.
10244199 https://mlp.fandom.com/wiki/Scare_Master/Gallery?file=Tree_covered_in_toilet_paper_S5E21.png
I like to think that Discord produces each and every one of the Trio's magazines, and he amuses himself by trying to top himself every issue with a more absurd lie for them to come up with.
"Alright, let's see here. Hats are... no, wait, SCARVES are a Minotaur Conspiracy to make Ponies targets for charging at, because of the Waving-A-Cloth thing. And, let's see, Macaroni is now the larval form of... Invisible Hornswoggle Worms. All written out by mouth on, I don't know, banana leaves held together with dental floss."
This hurt to read.
Thanks. I think.
I just love the way you phrase things.
btw
warp?
You know, I can't help but think of Star Trek TNG where everybody is playing these addictive little handheld games that actually turned out to be mind control devices. In Equestria, there actually *could* be a mind-control device as a mask distributed by a-certain-unicorn-who-shall-remain-unspoken in order to put everybody under her command. It's a lot less work than the cutie-mark removal spell, after all. Then an injected potion to make the effect permanent.
Could it be we are finally seeing the effect of The Unicorn Who Shall Remain Unnamed?
(On the serious side, I find it terribly believable that the Flower Trio who believe so many other things spread through the air, so much so that they are the Hoovemat company's biggest
suckerscustomers, will then invert that belief when coming nose-to-literal-nose with a serious threat. Worse, because there are humans who parallel that anti-belief to the point where they think the current virus pandemic is a 'fake moon landing' kind of scam, and others on the other end of the spectrum who have happily built their own political power into mini-fiefdoms by fear over the possibility of mass death and catastrophe. Yes, I have several governors in mind there.)10244984
Policy of the trio: Four legs good, two legs bad.
This was definitely below your average. I think the problem is that you mostly referenced to real events rather than focusing on the characters, but if you just wrote this to get your frustration out that’s understandable. You are still a talented author. This was just a miss.
You know, a thought occurs: The Trio are already part of a conspiracy. After all, they're earth ponies. I can only assume that that only adds to their willing credulity. After all, if they've maintained the Secret for this long without the help of Scary Capital Letters, who knows what the SCL can do!?
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"Experimental megastreamers!"
"I didn't have time to color them before Nightmare Night."
Ah, a better case for Darwinism is rather hard to find.
I think it says something about the state of the world, though, that the Trio have failed to rile the usual level of soul-charring ire a they normally would inctie in me due to wilful stupidity; perhaps because there's just so much of it going around at the moment I'm just too tired to manage it.
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i mean... I can think of at least four unicorns that could refer to, so...
Outstanding work. Keep it up!
So, quick question. I remember in the another of your stories with sick ponies (the anthology) the Trio temporarily were a quartet. Whatever happened to her?
Estee, I hope this wasn't as painful to internalize and express for you as it was for me to read. Because wow, this was very painful to read. Nice work.
Also, is this not a part of the Triptych Continuum? It seems to have all of the elements.
A thought, the bit of the Equestrian prison system we saw A Duet For Land And Sky implied that it's an excellent therapy and rehabilitation focused program. How they grabbed the filly and forcibly ripped her mask off could be legally considered a form of assault. It's entirely possible that the best outcome for the Flower Trio is to have the book thrown at them to get them the help they need.
groan.
every time i read "conspiracy" i can't help but think of "the flat earth society org" and how they CONSTANTLY babble about a super-secret organization absolutely no one suspects the existence of that is officially named "The Conspiracy" that they claim has faked EVERYTHING...
but their babbling is SO obviously self-contradictory it's beyond pathetic!
a few examples: (get your face-palm protection ready)
"every book ever written has been faked by The Conspiracy this book proves earth is flat."
-the book is "Zetetic Astronomy" by Robotham, a psycho who made death threats against someone who PROVED him wrong.
"every photograph ever taken has been faked by The Conspiracy this photo proves earth flat."
-the photo was similar to this:
https://media1.s-nbcnews.com/i/newscms/2019_18/2844736/190503-ross-ice-shelf-al-1034_093f1bca4dcadc459bb2e69ded7ee157.jpg
"everything on the Internet has been faked by The Conspiracy."
-that's VERBATIM from their WEBSITE.
don't visit that site unless you have a strong stomach, the OTHER HALF of the website is pure profanity!
This was quite unsatisfying to read.
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Conspiracy used to actually mean something, sadly. MK Ultra is probably one of the bigger ones that was proven true, it used to require lots of digging and research too, now anything is a conspiracy.