An infamous propaganda poster designed and produced by the Equestrian Office of War Information (OWI) during the late stages of the Equestro-Changeling War.
The poster utilized sexualized imagery of a handsome, overmuscled unicorn soldier carrying an embarrassed, large-bottomed changeling female over his shoulder, whisking her away from the burning Changeling Kingdom in the background as war plunder.
The poster’s purpose was twofold: to further encourage stallion recruitment with the promise of a beautiful changeling bride as a reward and the dismantling of changeling matriarchy through a sustained propaganda campaign depicting females as overly sexualized, hapless beauties.
Upon its publication and distribution, the poster drew widespread controversy amongst the Equestrian public for its overly sexist tone.
Princess Cadence is the new queen of the changelings. Since her husband is the new king, it would make sense for her to share the with him. And she doesn’t mind about Shining Armor and Chrysalis together
(Celestia, stonefaced, pushed her floral reading specs up her bridge as she studied the photostatic copy of the now infamous poster atop her desktop. The same government-issued poster that had been dominating the news cycle for two days and had given her government a needless headache.
It wasn’t hard to see why. The imagery was beyond ludicrous: the stallion’s comically overdeveloped musculature literally busting out of his solid gold armor, the changeling dam’s bountiful, exposed derriere, and her humiliated, conquered expression. The testosterone was practically perspiring off the page.
It certainly achieved its desired effect. Celestia was actually getting a little hot under the collar.
Luna, her co-ruler and director of the OWI, and Equestria’s Prime Minister sat opposite her desk. The two mares’ demeanors were, to forgive a cliche saying, night and day. The night princess, seemingly untouched by the situation, reclined in her chair with a cocktail in hand, twirling her shoe on the tip of her hoof. In stark contrast, the Prime Minister, a middle-aged unicorn mare, was sitting upright, arms crossed like there was a stick up her rump, clearly not looking happy to be attending this meeting today.
The tension in the Sun Princess’ warm, dimly lit office was thicker than the bilious smoke from a munition factory’s smokestack.
Removing her glasses and sinking back into her chair, Celestia let out a world-weary sigh.)
Celestia: “Luna… what exactly was the train of thought here? How did this get out of committee stage, let alone green-lit?”
Luna: (shrugs) “What can one say? Sex sells.”
(The Prime Minister scoffs in disbelief and shakes her head, which earned a dirty look from Luna in turn.)
Celestia: “Sister, please.”
Luna: (sighing, twirling her drink) “Look, we’re at a crucial point in the war, and recruitment, well, has never been lower. Unless we want to dust off the old landmine of conscription, we need to get more stallions—and mares—lining up to go to the Badlands. So my top ponies in the agency sat down together, and all agreed to target the full male demographic.” (sips from her glass) “It’s basic marketing, Tia.”
Prime Minister: (wry) “So you went for the heavy metal band aesthetic?”
Luna: “Stallions responded most positively during our research, unsurprisingly.” (She runs her finger along the glass edge.) “You’ve got to get your head into a male’s simple testosterone-addled brain, Madam Prime Minister, and what they’re looking for.”
Prime Minister: “I’m married–”
Luna: “They want to be the stallion in that poster.” (She starts flexing her own toned muscle demonstratively.) “Going to war for your motherland, becoming a conquering hero, and bringing back home a savage yet beautiful bride.” (She rests her cheek in her open palm, gazing dreamily into the air.) “Muscles upon muscles upon muscles…”
(The Prime Minister looks like she’s about to facepalm herself into a coma when she sees Celestia also caught up in the romantic daydreaming. She claps her hands loudly, snapping both mares out of it.)
Celestia: (a little embarrassed) “I-I-I’m not denying it’s effective, Luna. Certainly taps into the male… fantasy…” (She trails off a bit, her eyes falling on the stud muffin of a stallion who looked like he was carved from solid rock) “But the problem is it comes off to many of our subjects as pretty, well… lowbrow?”
Prime Minister: “I think ‘sexist’ is the more apt term, Princess.”
(At this point, Luna can only throw her now empty glass over her shoulder and snort contemptuously with barely restrained laughter.)
Luna: “‘Sexism’. You are joking, right??”
Prime Minister: “Are you going to seriously tell me it isn’t?! It’s utterly demeaning to mares!”
Luna: “Correction: it’s sexist and utterly demeaning to changeling females. Last I checked, undermining their matriarchy was part of our mission statement over there. Was it not, sister?”
Celestia: “I mean, technically…”
Luna: “Technically correct is the best kind of correct, thank you. And I’m sorry, but we’ve been rightly portraying these creatures as savage, love-thirsty beasts for years, and nopony has said a word. I find it rich that somehow it’s portraying one of their females as buxom where everypony and their grandmother suddenly discovers where their line is!”
Prime Minister: (exasperated) “You cannot compare the two!”
(As the two continue to argue, Celestia kept quiet, not taking her eyes off the other mares in the room as she discreetly slid the poster into her desk drawers.)
has the big prize