Dusting Up...
Applejack ran her eyes across the card once more, making sure she had read it correctly. Much to her surprise, the wording on the page didn’t change whatsoever; it still showed the brief lines that led to her initial confusion.
A. Macintosh Apple
Care Apple Family Enterprises Ponyville Branch
COMING TO PONYVILLE SEMICOLON BE THERE AUGUST TWENTIETH FOR REUNION STOP SEE YOU KIDS SOON COMMA TELL MA SAID HELLO STOP
RED ROME APPLE
She read the name again. Red Rome. An enormous grin crept on her face as she dropped the telegram, galloping as fast as she could to the still-recovering south orchard. Her hooves pulverized the dust with every step as she called out at the top of her lungs, “Big Mac, Apple Bloom! They’re comin’ this time!”
A small yellow filly, perched above a truly massive red stallion, was just able to make out a cloud of dust heading towards them and shouting obscurely. Apple Bloom narrowly sidestepped a large baking apple her brother knocked from the tree he was kicking and stood on tip-hooves to make out the noise. All that could be heard was “…This time!” before the cloud reached them, colliding into the immovable side of Big Macintosh. The great red bulk turned slowly to see his younger sisters on the ground, eyes spinning comically in their heads. As the dust finally settled, he leaned his head toward them, flipping them up onto their hooves with a single jerk of his neck.“Y’aright there, AJ?”
She dusted her coat off and swung Apple Bloom onto her back, practically dancing with excitement.
“Oh, Ah’m better than alright, Mac, Ah’m full-on ecstatic!”
“Ah kin see that. What’s got you hoppin’ round like a bunny with a burned bobtail?”
Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow, moving slightly on Applejack’s back to look her sister in the eyes. “Yeah, you’re acting like, wull, like me!”
Applejack just laughed, throwing her hat in the air and prancing in a circle. “They’re comin’ home fer the reunion this time!”
Macintosh’s expression did not change whatsoever. “…Who?”
“Who d’ya think, you great big lummox? Who, aside from Uncle Strudel, does not show up at the annual reunion?”
The customary sprig of wheat fell from the finally-expressive mouth of Big Mac. His eyes were opened fully, and his normally boisterous voice fell hush. “Yer kidddin’ me.” Applejack shook her head smugly, tilting her body slightly and depositing an excited Apple Bloom on the ground. “Better get yer best bow, A.B., Pa’s gonna wanna see how much you’ve grown!”
Rotten To The Core
A title by Krushnazag, and a story by Blank Slate, who really oughta get back to his other works.
Chapter I: Dusting Up…
[Note: The telegram just above is set to olden-times style specifications. If it confuses you, it’s translated at the bottom of the chapter.]
“…And so, Ponyville, you have all heard the Apples’ proposition: In exchange for preparation of the town for the arrival of their parents, and in Granny Smith’s case, son, the Apple family will reward every single pony who helps with a cask of cider.”
Mayor Mare was in full stride today. Every word rang clearly over the audience and their murmuring, every pause was perfect in length and effect, and the bribing of cider certainly helped as well. “Due to the size of the intended reunion, and the arrival of two more guests, all of Ponyville’s east side needs to be scoured, particularly Sweet Apple Acres itself. The rest of the town, well, it needn’t be as clean, but for their sake, let’s tidy it up anyways. Anypony who’s considering volunteering, there’s a sign-up clipboard on the table beside me. Now, any questions?”
A cyan hoof shot into the air, almost twitching with anticipation. Mayor Mare waved the speaker to the floor.
“Thanks, Mayor. My question’s for Applejack, if she doesn’t mind.”
The orange pony nodded.
“So, anypony who helps out, even just a little gets their own little barrel. Right? If somepony helps out a lot, such as making sure your skies stay clear…”
“Rainbow, ain’t bribin’ nor threatenin’ to rain on our semi-proverbial parade gonna get you more than one cask. “
The pegasus in question flapped back to her seat dejectedly, allowing other hooves to rise and posit their questions. After running a veritable gauntlet of answer-hungry askers, Applejack pulled her friends and Mayor Mare aside while the crowd dispersed to gather supplies. The six other ponies formed a neat semi-circle around her. She tucked the tip of a hoof awkwardly between her teeth, whistling for Macintosh and Apple Bloom to come by as well. Once her family, friends, and locally elected government official were there, she took off her hat, wiping her brow with the brim.
“Whoo-eee! Ah dunno how you handle those big speeches and crowds, but we ain’t got time for practicin’ politics. Girls, we ain’t seen our parents in a few years, so this needs to go over smooth-like, ya know?”
“A few years!?” Twilight exclaimed, “A few years without seeing your own family? How do you get by?”
“Heck, Ah still got family here, and hardly a week goes by without us seein’ somepony from the reunions. What’s the big deal?”
Twilight raised a hoof to pontificate but was quickly drowned out by Pinkie Pie, who was jittering on her hooves and using it to great effect. “Th-th-the b-b-b-b-big de-e-eal is- Oh, there we go- the big deal is that each of us sees our family every once in a while, and you don’t! Going full years without the ponies you love is crazy! I mean, when was the last time you saw them?”
Apple Bloom raised a hoof, waggling it back and forth for emphasis. “Ooh! Ooh! It was, um, lessee here… When Ah turned six, so, um, two anna half years back!”
The party pony reared up, spreading her forelegs wide. “Nearly three years! I bet you hardly remember them! And think of everything that’s happened! Nightmare Moon! Discord! That time I found my paddleball! All that huge adventurey stuff we’ve done, and they don’t know about it at all. You’re gonna be like strangers to each other!”
“Pinkie Pie, we’ve kept in contact all these years; you really think any one group of the Apple family’s just gonna forget to write?”
“Well, no, but… um…”
“Exactly. Despite any outward appearances and stand-alone spirit, we stick together. Granny calls it the Apple Family Pie, seein’ as we’re all stuck together even through the fire an’ flames of the oven of life.”
Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes at the sentiment and slipped on a pair of goggles. “Yeah, yeah, enough sap. I want that cider ASAP, so if you need me, I’ll be smashing clouds above your barn.” Her wings beat slowly as she trotted, breaking into a quick canter and then into a full gallop, wheeling into the sky and bouncing off a passing cloud, aimed straight east for the Acres. Down below, Big Macintosh shook his head. Applejack picked up his subtle cue.
“Oh, don’t you start gripin’ ‘bout her. She’s Apple family too, honourary maybe, but she’s as good as an Apple, so don’t lemme catch you badmouthin’- er, badmutin’ her, okay?”
Mac saluted and went to cull the sign-up crowd, all incensed by the promise of cider. After a second, he called back to his sisters, “Next time, yer only givin’ ‘em half a barrel.” Applejack shrugged sheepishly before turning to the rest of her friends and the Mayor, leading them, along with Apple Bloom, to a small little hillock.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
On a slowly chugging steam train, powered unnecessarily by a team of conductors in front of the cowcatcher, an incredibly large Earth pony lay back with a battered straw hat over his eyes. His grizzly red fur was caked with dirt, an unintended side effect of having to take over for a herniated conductor. If anypony were to pass by him, the immediate impression was that he was no ordinary farmer, no; he was the indubitable king of crops.
Beside him, a creamy orange unicorn was fretting back and forth with an admittedly appetizing dish. Nerves, however, ruin one’s appetite immensely, and few could be more nervous than this particular unicorn at that specific moment. Eventually, the comfortable silence was broken with a frustrated sigh. “Rome, are you certain the kids won’t go overboard this time? Looking back at what happened the last time we visited…”
“Now, don’t you fret none, Clementine. Jackie sez she’s in charge o’ the farm there, an’ we both know she’s the best filly fer the job. Ah mean, Ma’s getting’ on in years, and her numberin’ skills weren’t ever the best. Lil’ Mac, well, he may be the smart one, but that boy ain’t got a lick o’ marketin’ sense in him. Fancy seein’ him on a print ad. And Apple Bloom, heck, she ain’t even ten yet.”
“Not just that, but she’s still not even nine!”
“My point exactly. Jackie’s the only pony with the right mixture of smart, savvy, and sensible that makes for a fine farmer.”
A brief laugh. “Oh, please, you’re saying that just because she wanted to be just like you.”
“And a mighty fine goal that is!”
The duo broke into laughter before scooching closer together, with Rome straightening and padding his fur for use as a pillow. “All joking aside, she’s just the only pony Ah know who could live up to the expectations Equestria’s set fer the Apple family. Now, no more discussion, everythin’ will be fine. Get a nap while ya can, Ah’ll wake ya when we get to the next station.”
Clementine Orange, of the Manehattan Oranges, took the hat off Red Rome’s head, using it to block out the bright lights from the windows. “Thanks, hon. Nighty night.”
“It’s the afternoon, you ditz. Aw, heck, g’night, sugarcube.”
The train rattled on through the tunnels and passes of western Equestria, drawing closer to Ponyville with each passing minute.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Underneath the shade of a great oak tree, Applejack, Twilight, and the Mayor handled the organization of the volunteer clean-up crews. The plan was decided thusly: Applejack would head to the Acres and manage that with her siblings. Twilight would handle the scenery around the town, accompanied by Rarity and a hooffull of unicorn designers. Mayor Mare, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy would take the main area of the town, using all the villagers who had signed on. With Rainbow Dash handling the weather, there was little that could go wrong.
And so, naturally, it all went horribly wrong. Rainbow swerved at the wrong time, careening into a thundercloud and causing a massive thunderclap. In town, Fluttershy squealed and quickly backpedalled, upending a cart of tools she’d been put in charge of dispersing. Pinkie’s infamous Pinkie Sense shivered her on top of a rake, with gravity reinforcing its dominion over her at just the wrong time. As she landed on the metal spikes, her eyes shot wide with pain. She leapt up, screaming wildly and running around the entire town at speeds most pegasi couldn’t reach. She collided with Rarity, who at that moment was gently trimming a bush with her sharpest pair of shears. On contact, she shrieked and lost control of her magic. The shears now flew much like Pinkie had, aiming straight for the fashionista’s head. She ducked at the last second, losing half of her mane as the shears embedded themselves in a building behind her. On a hill with the Mayor, Twilight groaned, slapping herself in the face with a hoof.
“Ten minutes into clean-up, and we’ve already screwed up…”
“Now, Twilight,” Mayor Mare pushed her glasses further up her nose, as though giving another speech. “We still have two more days until the reunion. If we can clean up the town in one day like we did for the Princess, surely we can just tidy up for a pair of apple farmers. Here, I’ll take over downtown, you organize a plan for the main road in. Sound fair?”
The lavender unicorn perked up at the word organize, and called for her friends. Fluttershy flew in bashfully, looking everywhere for something not to bump into. A comically bandaged Pinkie Pie trotted by a few seconds later, making sure no farming implements were around. Rainbow Dash, who was tackling the last cloud in the sky above the Acres, grabbed hold of the pillowy mass and flew it into town like a cushion. Rarity, however, was locked in her shop, screaming and raving about her missing mane. Judging that she was unreachable, Twilight turned to her mangled crew.
“Alright, girls, we have three hours ‘til sundown. With… what’s left of our team, I’m sure we can finish this before tomorrow. Rainbow, is that cloud loaded?”
Rainbow jammed a hoof into the cloud and shivered. “Y-y-yeah, chock full of rain and icy cold, too.”
“Good. Pinkie Pie, gather brooms, anypony not doing anything, and your record player. I have a plan.”
She hopped off towards the overturned cart, piling brooms on her back and whistling a tune. Next, Twilight turned to Fluttershy.
“Fluttershy, I need you to trim up the grass growing along the roadsides. Gather your animal friends and march down the roads. Mooriella and the Cow family can probably help you with that too. Once you’re done with that, see if you can’t help Rainbow.”
Fluttershy nodded and spread her wings to fly, but Rainbow cut her off. “Whoa, hold on. Help me what?”
“This cloud’s a rain cloud, right? Well, I was thinking you two could wash the houses on Mane Street with it. All you need is some water and sponges, right?”
“I guess it’ll work. Fluttershy, grab some sponges while you get your critters, okay?”
The butter Pegasus began a protestation, but gave up and winged towards her house. It would be easier, she thought, if Rainbow had to do less work. She’d surely appreciate another pony doing a job clearly intended for her. But she kept these thoughts inside and resumed her sunny disposition. Twilight began rounding off on Rainbow for shirking her load when a thought came to her. In a blast of pink light, she vanished, leaving Rainbow alone with the cloud.
“Washing’ll probably come last anyways.” She said, before fluffing part of the cloud up for a nap. As she snuggled down, she reflected on how easy her “hard work” that day had been.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Clementine?”
“Mmm… wha?”
“Wake up, sugarcube, we’re at the station.”
Clementine shook awake, rolling to the side with an undignified gasp of surprise. Rome laughed, his voice booming loud and deep enough to shake the support poles of the seat they had taken. He lifted Clementine up easily as they trotted to the front of the train.
“Remind me not to let you sleep on the train no more.”
“Oh, shush! You and I both know that was an accident!”
“Yeah, but a funny accident.”
“That’s it. When we get to the hotel, you’re sleeping on the floor.”
“The floor? Heck, Ah can sleep on the dirt back home.”
“Okay then, you can just sleep outside.”
Rome rolled his eyes, grabbing their luggage off of a cart and piling it on top of himself. “If Ah’m sleepin’ outside, yer walkin’ to Ponyville.”
Clementine pretended to be wounded by these words, miming an arrow through the chest. “Oh! You wouldn’t leave your beloved waiting at the station! Well, ‘twould seem I misjudged you at the altar then. I expect half your profits from the farm as rec-“
Rome had pulled an apple from one of his bags, stuffing it in between Clementine’s lips. “Awright, Ah apologize. Let’s just get to the hotel, fluff up the bed, and Ah’ll go find me a nice floor to lay down on.”
Clementine levitated the apple, taking bites as they walked. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic!”
“S’cuse me? Yer callin’ me dramatic after that little song an’ dance? Ain’t that just the pot callin’ the kettle black!”
“Where did that saying ever come from, anyhow? Our cookware’s gray.”
“Don’t you try to muddy the issue with yer fancy knowledge o’ colours.”
“Oh, fine, I’m sorry. You can share the bed tonight.”
“’Fraid not. The largest bed they’d offer was a queen-size. Floor’s the only place large enough fer me.”
“So you just let us argue like an old couple for… what?”
“’Cuz it’s funny watchin’ you act all dignified and dramatic.”
“…Okay, I’ll give you that one. Now, let’s head in, shall we?”
“Right. One more day o’ trains and then it’s reunion time.”
Rome smiled, opening the door to the hotel for Clementine and accidentally spilling their luggage across the foyer. The bellhop at the counter rolled his eyes, “Oy vey” stamped across his features.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Dawn broke at Sweet Apple Acres, but the residents were already hard at work. Granny Smith had been in the kitchen for hours now, churning pie after pie from the oven. Applejack and Apple Bloom were scouring the small country house’s guest quarters, and Big Macintosh was patrolling the orchards, mending fences or pulling stumps when necessary.
“Twenty-nine hours to go, everypony!” Applejack called out as she dusted a truly gargantuan bed’s headboard. Beside her, little Apple Bloom pulled the hose end of a battered old vacuum cleaner from under the bed, accompanied by a generous cloud of dust. “Wahchoo! Applejack, Ah think we’re done in here now. We gotta get back to town to see how the town’s doin’!”
Her older sister pointed out of a thin circular window. Far off in the distance, the sun had only just crested the highest tower of Canterlot Castle. “See, A.B.? The only ponies up around this time are us, the Princess, the weather team, and the mail service. There’s gonna be no one doin’ any work out there. Oh, speakin’ of the mail…”
A single gray speck out the window was growing as it flew towards the house. The Apple sisters both stepped outside, gratefully breathing the dust-free air while the mailmare drew closer. Eventually, the pegasus in the blue uniform landed, using her hooves to brake and slide right beside a rusted mailbox. Applejack and Apple Bloom came up beside her, with Applejack lifting her hat a bit higher up.
“Mornin’ Mrs. Hooves. Any mail?”
The gray mailmare shook her head, but retrieved a folded paper card from her saddlebag. “Nofe, but fyou hoh a felegram!”
“Er, come again?”
She took the envelope from her mouth. “I said, you’ve got a telegram. Here ya go!” She inserted the card not into Applejack’s extended hoof, but into the mailbox instead. As she flew off again, Applejack put it down to regulations and retrieved the envelope.
“Who’s it from, who’s it from?” Apple Bloom was bouncing up and down in a way reminiscent of Pinkie Pie on a sugar high. Applejack stuck her free hoof through a loop in Apple Bloom’s bow, suspending her an inch above the ground.
“Hold on there, Ah just got it. Here we go. Ahem:
“’Macintosh Apple, care of Apple Family Enterprises, yadda yadda yadda. Will be in town one day early. Your father bought express tickets. By time telegram reaches you, should be three hours away. C. Orange.’ Whoa, nelly! Apple Bloom, run and get Big Mac!”
“Whaddya mean?”
“They’re gonna be here today! We got three hours to finish up! Y’all stay here and tidy up the barn and house, Ah’ll do what Ah can fer the town. Once y”all finish that, get Granny an’ meet me at the station!”
“But-“
“No time! Hustle them hooves and get goin’!”
Apple Bloom sped off to the orchards, leaving a massive trail of dust behind. Applejack would have commented on her sister’s enthusiasm, but had more pressing matters, rushing off to the centre of Ponyville.
Inside Sugarcube Corner’s kitchens, Pinkie Pie examined her tools. A cake rack many times larger than standard. An oven. Two wooden spoons. Gummy the Alligator. A sewing machine. She grinned and began making her costume, cracking eggs and pouring flour, measuring milk and so on. On a table beside her were the schematics for a cake like no other. Strings would be baked in to hold it together, and leg holes would have to be cut, but Pinkie would have her cake and wear it too, even for such a small party as the pre-reunion.
The next step called for the gentle addition of three droplets of red food dye. Pinkie bent her back legs, getting as close as she could to the bowl. She carefully wedged the dropper between her forehooves, and gently depressed it. One droplet. Two droplets. Thr-
“Pinkie Pie!” Applejack kicked the door open dramatically, storming into the kitchen. Pinkie Pie was unfazed.
“Oh, hey Applejack! I should’ve known it would be you.”
“Shoulda known?”
“My back went all crackly. That means somepony I know is about to burst in with big news, usually when I’m doing something delicate like this. Annnnd three droplets! Now that that’s over, what’s up?”
“My parents! They’ll be here in just a few hours! Ya gotta help me!”
“Okey-dokey-lokey! Whatcha need?”
Applejack drew a map of the town in the air, circling a massive square on the east side and a small rectangle on the north end. “Ah need yer party cannon pronto! Ah need reunion-grade decorations up at the Acres, but that’ll come later. What’s really important now is settin’ up the station. Balloons, streamers, those cherry-chawhatchamacallits!”
“Chimi-Cherries? Or do you mean Cherry-Changas? There’s a difference, you know.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The name, you silly!”
“Rrr… Ah don’t have time fer jokes now, Pinkie, we gotta hurry!”
Pinkie Pie grabbed her mixing bowl, flipping it upside down into the sink. Once the mixture was gone, she scrubbed it. The flour coating the bowl washed off, revealing large splotches of olive, tan, and black.
“Mr. Cake lets me use his old army helmet as a bowl!” She explained before strapping it under her chin. She then splashed the green food dye on her hoof, drawing dark lines under her eyes and saluting.
“Admiral General Corporal Commodore Sixty-Four Pinkie ready for action!”
“Pinkie, Ah do apologize fer this, but get goin’!”
Pinkie yelped and ran to the back of the shop, opening the garage door hidden in the building’s gingerbread layout. The large metal shutter pulled up, disturbing dust which rained upon a tarp-shrouded mass. She got behind the object, yanking the sheet away and wheeling it out towards the train station.
“I’ll go on ahead, you get the girls!”
Applejack tipped her hat in mock respect. “As y’say, General!”
“That’s ‘Admiral General Corporal Commodore!’”
“Whatever it was, Ah’ll address you as such later. Know where Twi is right now?”
Pinkie swiveled her cannon so the barrel pointed at the ground. She pulled the ripcord and the cannon sailed skyward like a rocket. Another yank and she launched northward, calling out “Try Quills and Sofaaaaas!” as she blasted out of sight. Applejack snickered to herself.
“That girl ain’t right.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Ooh, Rome!”
“Yeah?”
“Look, a shooting star, and so early in the day, too!”
“No way, lemme see.”
Clementine shifted from the window, enabling a small portion of Rome to look out and into the sky. “Well, how about that? Shootin’ stars, an’ ‘taint even brekkist time. Er, sugarcube, Ah think that’s not a star…”
“What? What do you mean, ‘not a star?’”
“It’s wavin’ to the train.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The owner of Quills and Sofas had never enjoyed his job. As if by some whim of the Princesses, some client always came by right when his stock ran low.
“But the name is ‘Quills and Sofas!’ You only sell two things!”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sparkle, but the fact is we are entirely devoid of sofas for the time being. I don’t suppose you need any quills this time?”
“Thanks, but that last bulk order’s still holding up. Know any other places one can get a sofa? Preferably fireproof?”
Behind her, Spike drew circles on his knee nervously. “I apologized! Besides, it’s not like I knew the Princess was at sea! I mean, we could have recovered it otherwise…” He trailed off before being silenced with a glare. Grumbling, he shifted in the little stool he usually occupied, his eye settling on an orange blur running toward them.
“Hey, Twilight, I think you have a message.”
“Unravel it for me, would you?”
“No, no, I mean-“
“Twilight!”
Twilight turned from a collection of phoenix-feather quills to greet her friend. “Applejack? What’s got you in such a hurry?”
“Parents! Express train! Three hours!”
“Huh?”
Applejack paused, panting for breath. The owner of the shop offered her a glass of water. “No… no thanks, Ah’m good for now. Twi, we need to speed the clean-up along. My parents took the express train at the last station; we’ve got less than three hours to get ready!”
Pink light enveloped both mares and Spike, and then the universe collapsed around Applejack. Colours her mind couldn’t comprehend flew past her in streaks. Pictures and shapes that could not exist fought for her vision against a platoon of existentialist penguins, each mimicking her friends’ voices in their attempts to question life. On her left, what looked like a giant cauldron made of ribbon turned over, drawing thousands of gallons of water up from the ground and into its bowl. Just as quickly as logic and reason were blown out of the water, the world around her reformed to look like Fluttershy’s cottage. Applejack fought to keep her breakfast down, but Spike and Twilight merely approached the front door.
“Urrghh… nex… next time yer gonna teleport, warn me!”
“Sorry, Applejack. I forgot you’re not used to it.”
A triplet of gentle knocks brought Fluttershy’s visage around to the window. On seeing who her visitors were, she swung the door open wide.
“Oh, hello girls, hello Spike. What can I help you with?”
“Good, you’re up. We need to get the town ready soon; the train is coming today!”
“Today? My goodness, I guess we’d better get going then.”
Fluttershy turned back to her house, instructing Angel Bunny on what to do while she was gone. After a minute, the quartet was running, galloping, and flying at full speed to the Carousel Boutique. With a few minutes’ journey ahead of them, Spike struck up a conversation.
“So Fluttershy? What’re you doing up so early?”
“My pet rooster fell sick before, and Zecora fixed him up a little too well. He nearly deafens all the rabbits at dawn, and I guess I just wake up with them. Come to that, what are you two doing up so early?”
“I accidentally burned our couch, and then sorta sent it to the bottom of the ocean, so Twilight and I set out to get a new one. And they were already sold out.”
“That’s too bad. I have one you guys can borrow.”
Up ahead of them, but still behind the frantic Applejack, Twilight levitated Spike onto her back. “Thanks for the offer, Fluttershy, but we’ll have to talk about it later. Here’s the Boutique; Applejack, you get Rarity, we’ll go find Rainbow Dash.”
“Wait, Twi, you get Rarity, Ah’ll go check on my family, and ‘Shy? Can you get Rainbow fer us? She's probably nappin' on a cloud right now, an' we can't exactly reach her at present.”
Fluttershy nodded slowly, diverting her path at an angle and soaring into the sky. Twilight and a now much happier Spike curved to the front door of Carousel Boutique, with Spike leaping to the door and Twilight wishing Applejack luck on her return home.
“An’ meet up at the station!” Applejack called as her friends grew out of sight. Her eyes followed from Fluttershy’s rapidly vanishing form to the Ponyville clock tower. Two hours to go. She gulped and threw herself forward, dashing at rodeo speeds back home.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hey, Rome?”
“Yup?”
“Look over there, in those woods. There’s a little magic show going on.”
Rome took his hat off of his dozing eyes, looking out the window. Surely enough, a blue unicorn in a cape was struggling to amuse a crowd of assorted small children. The showmare on the stage leapt back and clapped her hooves together, prompting lights, smoke, and fanfare from her stage. Clementine looked on thoughtfully.
“Remember when Macintosh said he wanted to be a magician when he grew up?”
“Heh, shore do. That boy been a unicorn, he’d have five, no, ten times the crowd that liddle showboat there’s got right now.”
“Ha ha, he sure would. I wonder how the kids have turned out since we saw them last. Gosh, I just thought of something!”
“Whazzat?”
“Apple Bloom’s probably got her cutie mark by now! Now we can settle that bet.”
“Ah’m tellin’ you, she’s an Apple girl, through an’ through.”
“And my forty bits said she’ll have orange on her flank, and I intend to see that through!”
They both glowered at each other for a second before breaking into laughter at the memory of the bet. As the laughter subsided, Rome left a remark hanging in the air.
“So, who wins if’n it’s a pear?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Time passed, as time usually does. The Apple family was waiting at the station, just as Apple Bloom had said they would be. A massive picnic table took up a section of the station’s unloading platform, adorned all over with gooey cinnamon apples, tray after tray heaped with roast apples, apple slices, and other such fare. In the center of the table, a massive ratatouille of, aptly enough, Red Delicious, Granny Smith, Golden Delicious, and McIntosh apples sat steaming under a towel.
Along the tablesides, six seats were left open, two for the fillies on the hill beside the station, and four left open beside the Apple sisters, which Applejack assured the others would be needed. On the left side of the table, five of the Element Bearers sat hungrily. Spike was sitting beside Rarity, who struggled to keep her shorn mane hidden under a ridiculous sun hat, much to Rainbow’s amusement. Mayor Mare, seated beside Twilight, claimed to be there to officially greet the new arrivals. Off the record, she was a complete glutton for pies and cider, and was only there to stuff her face.
On the opposite end, Applejack and Apple Bloom sat side by side. At each end of the table, Granny Smith and Big Macintosh knelt their heads forward, endlessly repeating their grace to the Princesses in order to stave off the desire to attack the feast. A stray balloon wafted across the table, almost as if tempting Pinkie Pie to reach forward and play with it. But, she persevered, instead draining her tankard of cider and refilling it from a massive tun vat beside her. The tension was nigh tangible, and the ticking of the clock tower didn’t help the anticipation wane.
Up on the hilltop, Scootaloo’s wings kicked her up a few inches, but she saw nothing. She slumped down beside Sweetie Belle, who was whistling to pass the time. The tune began to grate on Scootaloo’s ears, and she made no bones about stating so.
“Grr… Sweetie, that song’s stuck in my head now!”
“Oh, sorry!”
“It’s fine, just… think of something else to do while we wait. I mean, what’s got you so happy, anyways?”
“We finally get to meet Apple Bloom’s parents! I mean, we never go see my parents, or yours either!”
“Your parents live in Manetana, Apple Bloom has farmer parents, and mine are just boring old Wonderbolts. There’s no reason to get so excited about any of our families.”
Before Sweetie could question what Scootaloo had mentioned about her parentage, her ear pricked up. A subtle, almost inaudible noise crept up on her. She swiveled around and saw the famous headlamp of the Friendship Express (named so due to ownership by Friendship Industries, not because of any particular goodwill on part of the conductor.) The tiny unicorn skipped down the hill, shouting “The train! The train!”
The two fillies dashed and slid into their seats beside Apple Bloom, pulling bibs around their neck as the train wooshed into the station and creaked to a halt. Applejack and Big Macintosh glanced at each other and rose from their seats, standing on either side of the train door.
Clack! The door creaked open. All that could be seen in the frame was a deep red stallion at least forty percent larger than Big Macintosh obscuring the doorway. His short brown mane was tied behind him, covered by a torn straw hat, and the pointed billy-goat beard gave the image of a stallion many times his age. He ducked low, barely scraping through the doorway and spilling onto the platform before scrutinizing everything with a well trained eye. At long last, he spoke, sending tremors through the ground with sheer volume.
“Well, shoot, y’all got this all gussied up right quick, now didn’t you?”
Applejack grinned ear to ear, but Big Mac provided the answer. “Eeyessir.”
Rome Apple wrapped his ridiculously large hooves around them, pulling them close for a rib-cracking hug.
“Y’know, we missed you kids more’n you could know.”
“Missed you too, Pa.” Applejack sniffled quietly.
As if punctuating the hug, a hoof jabbed Rome twice in the back, and a high cultured voice cut in. “Er, Rome, you don’t mind if I see the kids too, do you?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry Clementine!”
Red Rome heaved his massive bulk to the side, pulling his children along with him. A collective gasp rose from everypony present, to the exclusion of Pinkie Pie, Mayor Mare, and the Apples. There beside Rome was a slender unicorn of creamy orange fur and a long, somewhat curly green mane that seemed designed to hide two long-lashed yellow eyes. A small sliced orange adorned both flanks, making any family affiliations quite clear. Clementine squeezed Applejack in a big hug after prying her loose from Rome, and couldn’t resist a refined laugh upon seeing Big Mac.
“I’m guessing somepony hasn’t been getting his vitamins? You’ve hardly grown a foot since I last saw you!” He pretended not to have heard, applying himself in the task of chewing his sprig of wheat.
At the table, everypony excluding Pinkie Pie and the Mayor had their own variation on a similar question, all aimed towards Applejack.
Twilight asked, “You’re related to unicorns?”
Two of the Cutie Mark Crusaders shouted, “Your dad’s a giant!?”
Fluttershy tried to raise her voice, but whatever she said was lost in the clamor.
Rarity wondered, “You’re half Manehattanite?”
Rainbow, however, tackled the elephant in the corner with a truly timeless, “Your parents are both guys!?”
Clementine shrugged sheepishly, pulling his mane from his eyes and glancing from the Apples to the feast and back to Rome. The titanic stallion coughed nervously, pulling his hat a bit lower over his eyes. The awkward moment was compounded further by Clementine’s next words.
“What? Nopony knew?”
End of Part I
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Telegrams: What I envision as the perfect method for communication in Equestria. For those unfamiliar with how they work, the first message, “A. Macintosh Apple
Care Apple Family Enterprises Ponyville Branch
COMING TO PONYVILLE SEMICOLON BE THERE AUGUST TWENTIETH FOR REUNION STOP SEE YOU KIDS SOON COMMA TELL MA SAID HELLO STOP
RED ROME APPLE”
Translates to “To the attention of Macintosh Apple, by care of Apple Family Enterprises, Ponyville Branch:
We’re coming to Ponyville; we’ll be there August 20th for the reunion. See you kids soon, tell Ma (Granny Smith) we said hello.”
This was done in order to save words and therefore money during the twenties. Text was always cheaper than adding characters such as : or ; or % and so came the practice of spelling the characters out. The more you know…
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Comments, questions, and critiques are encouraged, but take care not to spoil any surprises! If you have a pressing question that might spoil in the comments bin, send me a PM if you don’t mind.
Slate.