It was an afternoon like any other in Equestria, as Celestia’s sun was about to make way for Luna’s moon. Soon, the silence of the White Tail Woods was broken by the clacking sound of the Friendship Express making its way from Los Pegasus. Aboard the train were your typical passengers... travelers, businessponies, and the occasional pegasus who was too tired to fly. Also aboard the train were five ponies who were more unusual than the others. A blue pegasus was playing cards with a white Earth pony. They both just so happened to be stallions. The first of the two had a long, wavy green mane with yellow streaks, and the second had a spiked, green mane that, if it were made of, say, metal, could be quite a deadly weapon. Also, what wasn't mentioned before, is that an azure unicorn mare was also playing cards with them. Her mane looked quite like spun silver, draped upon her head. Beside their card game, in the top bunk of a bed, lie a purple unicorn in deep slumber, who, like the pegasus and the earth pony, was a stallion. His mane was the color of onyx, striped with gray, which belied his youthful appearance. A small, black goatee adorned this stallion's chin. A sea foam-green Earth stallion lie in the bottom bunk, his green and white mane a small disaster, tapping drumsticks on the woodwork of the bunk above him. Soon, the train started slowing down, coming to a stop by a small town. Some passengers left the train, but curiously, none came aboard, having been stopped by the train attendant. The spiky-maned stallion glanced out the window and lifted an eyebrow. “Seems the train has stopped moving,” he said with a rather thick Stalliongrad accent, “but I still hear engine.”
The pegasus motioned to the sleeping unicorn with a wing, saying “That’d be the snoring wonder over in the bunk.”
Sure enough, the sleeping stallion was snoring very loudly, practically shaking the windows. The stallion in the lower bunk kicked the upper bunk hard, but to no avail. “Well, that didn’t work,” he said, also with a Stalliongrad accent.
“We can put his hoof in warm water,” the pegasus said with a smirk.
“Nyet, remember what happen last time you do that,” the spiky-maned Earth pony said.
“Da,” the drumming pony agreed, “I don’t think they’ll let us stay at that hotel ever again.”
“Let me try something,” the unicorn mare spoke, breaking her silence.
She cantered to the sleeping stallion and whispered in his ear. He then bolted upright. “But we just met!!” he screamed before getting his horn stuck in the ceiling. “Ow!”
The rest of the ponies in that car erupted into raucous laughter at the stallion’s expense. The group was then interrupted by the sound of the mustached train attendant clearing his throat. “All right,” the surly stallion said gruffly, “everypony off.”
“But this isn’t Fillydelphia,” the spike-maned stallion said.
“Sure isn’t, and no pony’s going to Fillydelphia for a week. We’re in Ponyville.”
“A WEEK?!” the pegasus and spike-maned pony exclaimed.
“PONYVILLE?!” the two unicorns shouted.
The calmest of the five ponies got out of his bunk and approached the attendant. “But why for a week?”
“Seems a family of manticores wrecked the tracks passing Everfree,” the attendant replied, his tone unchanging. “Sorry folks.”
“But we had express tickets with no layovers,” the pegasus growled, his Bucklyn accent thickening with his increasing anger.
“Names, please,” the attendant said, unimpressed.
“Name’s Thunderwing,” the pegasus replied.
“Cacophony,” the unicorn stallion said after getting his horn unstuck. “Ouch.”
“Estringei,” the spike-maned stallion said, “and my brother Stikschev.”
“Okay,” the attendant said with a nod, “I have you two down as ‘Strings’ and ‘Sticks’. From Stalliongrad?”
“Da," Strings said, “you from Stalliongrad, too?"
“My grandma’s from Stalliongrad. Hated it there.” The attendant then turned to the mare. “Your name?”
“Trixie Lulamoon,” she mumbled.
“Trixie? As in ‘The Great & Powerful Trixie’?”
The mare nodded, looking uneasy. “I saw your performance in Hoofington a couple years back,” the stallion spoke, surly as ever, “good, clean, family fun. So what’s so danged important in Filly?”
“Our band has a gig there day after tomorrow,” Thunderwing replied.
“Oh, you’re that rock band, Unicorn McLain?”
“Alicorn Malign,” Cacophony corrected, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Whatever,” the attendant dismissed. “Best I can tell you folks is to send a letter to Filly and hope you can still perform when you get there.”
The purple unicorn nodded, then smoothed his goatee. “Sir, how well do you know Ponyville?”
“Stayed there a couple of times, nothing to write home about.”
“Is the Dewdrop Inn still there?”
“That place near that bakery? Should be,” the attendant replied with a nod.
“Come on, everypony,” Cacophony addressed his band-mates, “it’s getting dark soon, and we better get to the post office before it closes. Hopefully the Dewdrop still has rooms available.”
The four ponies nodded and followed the attendant off the train. The group was then greeted by three baggage handlers pulling wagons, containing the band’s instruments and other belongings. “Have a good week, folks,” the surly stallion said as Cacophony, Sticks, and Strings hitched themselves to their wagons.
“So, Cack," Strings said, addressing the bearded unicorn, “How well do you know Ponyville?"
“Pretty well, since I was born and raised here. Follow me, everypony.”
Although the town had changed considerably in the four years Cacophony had been away, they were able to find the Post Office fairly easily. They were greeted by a gray pegasus mare with the most peculiar yellow eyes the band had ever seen, and a cutie mark that resembled bubbles. “Sure thing,” the mare said after the band explained their situation, “I can get that letter to Fillydelphia no problem in three days tops! Throw in some muffins and I'll have it there by tomorrow!”
Thunderwing looked at Sticks and said, “Get this mare a dozen muffins STAT!”
“What kind?” Sticks asked the pegasus mare.
“Oh, I don't know,” the wall-eyed pegasus said, “I sure could go for apple cinnamon. Haven't had a good apple cinnamon muffin in a loooong time!”
The stallion saluted and said, “One dozen apple cinnamon muffins, coming right up!” and then bolted for the door. He then stopped suddenly, turned around, and asked, “Where can I get some decent muffins in this place?”
“Oh, for most muffins, I like to go to Sugar Cube Corner, although they're more known for their cupcakes. Some ponies like cupcakes better; I, for one, care less for them. But for apple cinnamon, the best come from Sweet Apple Acres!”
“That must be that huge apple orchard. On the way now!” Sticks said before bolting out the door.
* * * * *
Applejack was just finishing the last of the apple-bucking for the day when an earth pony stallion caught her attention. She could easily tell that this stallion wasn't from around here, given how she knew everypony in Ponyville, as well as how he looked over each of the trees almost as if he were a tourist. “Well, shoot, pardner,” she said as she trotted up to him, “you look like you ain't never seen an apple tree before!”
Sticks cleared his throat. “Actually, I haven't, to be honest”, he said, “at least, not up close. My name's Stikschev, but you can call me 'Sticks'. And yours?”
“Applejack's the name, apple-buckin's mah game!” the farm pony replied, shaking Sticks's extended hoof vigorously. “You don't sound like you're from around here, pardner. Where ya from?”
“Oh, I'm from Stalliongrad, originally. I live in Manehattan now with my brother, Estringei, and the rest of our band. My brother, we call him 'Strings', he plays the guitar.”
“Well, shoot, I stayed in Manehattan with my Auntie and Uncle Orange when I was just a little filly. Ain't never been to Stalliongrad, though. So, what can I do ya for, handsome?”
Sticks's sea-foam green coat turned a reddish tinge. He wasn't used to mares being nice to him, at least not before a show. “Actually,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat again, “I was told that I could get the best apple cinnamon muffins in town here. I need to get a dozen.”
“Shucks, sugarcube,” Applejack said with a grin, “I'd dare say our muffins are the best in all of Equestria! In fact, I think Granny Smith just took some out of the oven! Hold it right there, and I'll get 'em for ya!”
Before she galloped for the house, she took a good look at Sticks. Clearly, this stallion kept in shape, and she admired the way his muscles rippled beneath his green coat, and his accent was thick enough to make him a little more exotic to the country pony. His green and white mane was rather unkempt; in fact, it looked like he hadn't brushed it since he had gotten out of bed. A picture of a set of drums adorned his flank. When Sticks saw Applejack looking at his flank, he quickly turned so it was out of sight and blushed furiously. With a wink, she took off for the house and came right back clutching a paper sack in her teeth. The scent of freshly baked muffins reached his nostrils, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since he left their last gig at Birminghoof. “That'll be four bits, handsome,” Applejack said. “Hope y'all enjoy 'em!”
Sticks reached into his saddlebag and took out the requested amount. “Actually, these aren't for me. My band and I are on the way to Fillydelphia, but we're gonna be here for a week. We need to let the club know that there's going to be a delay, and the mail-mare said she'd get a letter there by tomorrow if-”
“Say no more, pardner,” the farm pony said, “I figured they might be for Derpy Hooves. She's just nutty about them muffins! Well, y'all come back and bring yer friends. The Apple family will make sure you get a decent meal in ya!”
Sticks picked up the bag in his teeth, and nodded his thanks. Immediately, he regretted doing that, since the scent of the muffins was torturing his hunger. He then galloped back to the post office, past his friends, and dropped the bag at the mail-mare's hooves. Panting, he said, “And you are darned lucky I didn't eat any of these!! I... am... STARVING!!!”
“Oh, goodie!” Derpy said with a grin. “They smell fresh, too!!” She then looked with her lazy eye at the five clearly ravenous ponies eying her newly procured bag of muffins. If possible, she smiled even wider. “You didn't think I wasn't gonna share these, did you? Sharing is caring, especially when muffins are involved! Actually, I didn't think you'd actually get me Sweet Apple Acres muffins. That really was awful nice of you guys.”
With that, she gave them each a muffin, which they quickly devoured. “Anyways, I'm off to send that letter! Thanks again for the muffins!” the mail-mare said as she flew off with the envelope in her teeth.
The five ponies stepped out of the post office, their hunger sated for the moment. “She's a nice pony,” Thunderwing said. “Odd, but very nice. And once you can get past the weird eyes, she's kinda cute.”
The unicorn stallion rolled his eyes and nudged his pegasus bandmate. “You'd go for any mare with wings, Thunders.”
“Not true,” the winged stallion said, raising his hoof, “what about that chubby earth pony that was at the Trottingham gig last month?”
“Actually,” Cacophony cut in, “I think you had been hitting the cider a little too hard that night, because she clearly had wings.”
Thunderwing opened and closed his mouth several times, hummed, then opened and closed his mouth a few more times. He then sighed and said, “Yeah, she did have wings. That's right. How many ciders did I have, anyway?”
“I think around 3... kegs,” the unicorn stallion said. “I was amazed that you could even canter for a few feet without falling over.”
“Yeah.... that was a great gig, though.”
The five musicians each nodded their agreement enthusiastically. “So Cacophony,” Thunderwing said, “you're from this place. Where can we get a decent bite to eat?”
Sticks cleared his throat and said, “We actually got a dinner invite from the pony who lives at the orchard. If those muffins are any indication of how good the rest of the food is, I vote we eat there.”
“Yeah, I remember Sweet Apple Acres,” Cacophony said, “best apples in all of Equestria. Actually, it's probably the thing I miss most about living here.”
“Well, it's decided then,” Thunderwing said. “Let's get going!”
“After we check in, of course,” Trixie added, “We’re gonna need a place to stay if we’re going to be here for a week.” She then turned to Cacophony, adding, “Unless your folks wouldn’t mind us staying at their place.”
“I seriously doubt they’d be okay with just me being there, let alone with my four friends,” the bearded stallion replied, his blue eyes downcast.
“It couldn’t have been that bad, could it?” Thunderwing asked, placing his hoof on his friend’s withers.
“My parents made their feelings pretty clear when I left,” Cacophony whispered, not looking up.
“Cacophony,” Strings said softly, “there is one thing I know is that, while parents don’t always approve of what their colts do, they always accept them. My mother and father, they weren’t too happy when Stikschev and I leave crafting business to make the metal, but they always be supportive and loving.”
“And at least you have parents,” Trixie added.
Cacophony raised his head, the expression across his muzzle serious. “Let’s get to the Dewdrop and check in before the Apple family gives up on us,” he said with a tone of finality.