> Rainbow Apple Pie > by Brony_Fife > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > In Which Applejack Has A Real Time of It > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It's a sunny Monday afternoon. Inviting sunlight caresses Applejack's body as she makes her way through the busy marketplace. Ponies trading. Talking. Bartering. Arguing. The whole place is alive with events and sound. She walks eagerly, with a spring to her step, as she makes her way to Sugarcube Corner, where her friends Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie currently are. The chatter in the marketplace gradually fades away as the sound of clopping makes its way to Applejack's virgin ears. It's almost invasive now. Applejack stops to look at her hooves. Why's mah hooves makin' such a racket all'a sudden? As she continues, the clopping becomes louder. Clopping from other ponies as they pass by seem to intermingle with the clopping she's got going on. The clops all seems to be making brisk conversations with each other as ponies pass her by, the topics short and fluid, going from hello to goodbye in the span of a few hoofsteps. It's scary, actually. Suddenly, Applejack feels as though she has become aware of something that has existed long before she did, and will continue to exist long after she does not. Something ancient and incomprehensible by the equine mind, something that is needed by the very universe itself. As it continues, the clopping scares Applejack in ways she isn't sure she can describe. Applejack adjusts her stetson as Sugarcube Corner comes into view. Soon, she'll be with her friends, and the clopping will cease. She hopes. As Applejack walks into Sugarcube Corner, all the warm and comforting smells hug her at once. The vanilla and cinnamon and custard and cake all make Applejack feel less like she is in a bakery and more like she just came home. At the counter is Mrs. Cake, who waves her over. "Applejack, so good to see you!" she chirps as she throws a foreleg around the farmgirl. Applejack returns the hug. "It's mighty good t'be here, Mrs. Cake. Where's Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie? They both had sum'n they wannit t'show me." "Oh, they're just in the kitchen, making Rainbow Pie." Applejack nods approvingly. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie had always been rambunctious around each other, so it came as no surprise that the two eventually decided to get together. They bake together just as often as they play pranks together. Applejack couldn't be happier for them. She makes her way to the kitchen, and on her way, she hears the two converse. "Oh, Dashie!" says Pinkie. "I think we might be doing it wrong!" "I don't think so," Dash returns. "I like it this way." "But it's too rough!" "I like it rough." "Well, I don't! You're just being a meanie-McMeaniepants." A pensive pause. "... Pinkie." "What?" "Why do you keep calling everypony names that end in 'pants'? Nopony wears pants. Fancypants has 'pants' IN HIS NAME, and HE doesn't even wear pants!" "That's because nopony NEEDS pants for this." "I hear that." Applejack fights a snort. At it again. There's just no separating the two once they get started. She hates having to interrupt, but after all, they DID invite her to join in. Although she was never one for grand entrances, something grips Applejack. Something that said "Make a splash!" had sunken its claws deep into her soul, and with all the giddiness of a child, Applejack burst into the room. "HEY Y'ALL!" she shouts. And there on the table are Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, beneath them the beauty of the Rainbow Pie. A confection of their invention, the Rainbow Pie is a combination of several different fillings (strawberry, blueberry, cherry, vanilla custard) layered one over the other to form a spectrum of flavors. Pinkie Pie places her hoof on the crust. "Hey Applejack. We need a third opinion. I swear this crust is just too rough. Come over here and feel it." Applejack, disappointed that her big entrance is nearly ignored (merely casually acknowledged), trots over. The linoleum on the floor causes the clopping sound to return. It rings in her ears with every step she takes. She stops for a second. "Something wrong, AJ?" asks Rainbow Dash. Applejack purses her lips. "No, nothin's wrong 'r anything." "...So... why'd you stop?" She shakes her head. "Never mind. Anyway, Ah broughtcha the apples y'all needed." The missing layer to the Rainbow Pie is placed onto the table. Pinkie Pie grins like a foal on Hearth's-Warming Morning. "This... is... therearenowords! Rainbow Dash, our pie is going to be a reality!" "Y'mean that place where your head isn't?" Rainbow Dash mutters as she adds more cherries to the layer she is working on. "Rainbow Dash!" Applejack growls. "That ain't right! You apologize!" "Yeah, you're right, AJ. I'm sorry, Pinks. We've just been together in this kitchen, for hours trying to get this pie JUST RIGHT... and..." Pinkie seems to have not noticed her friends' little quabble as she has quickly reduced the apples to the filling needed. All the while, she sings a chirpy ditty about baking and how much fun it is. The lyrics go by so quickly, her voice becomes a shrill series of beeps. All the while, her hooves dance upon the linoleum, giving a rhythmic clopping that assaults Applejack's ears from nearly every direction. Clop, clop, clop, clop. "P-Pinkie." Clop, clop, clop, clop. "Hey, Pinkie, 'kin ya juss..." Clop, clop, clop, clop. Applejack clenches her teeth so hard, so becomes afraid that she may bite her own head in half. She squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears to block out the clopping. Her mind's eye becomes wide, as the invasive clopping (breaking through even the hooves blocking her ears) and although Applejack screaming as worms climb all over her she tries her hardest not to Pinkie Pie coloring all over Rainbow Dash's face with a red crayon focus on the clopping, RAISE THIS BARN RAISE THIS BARN ONE TWO THREE FOUR Applejack must fight Granny Apple Bloom cradles baby Granny Smith while the house around them burns the urge Pinkie Pie coloring all over Rainbow Dash's face with a knife to scream RACIST BARN RACIST BARN WON TWO FREE WHORES her head off. Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie chasing baby Applejack through a maze of eyes RAZE THIS BARN RAZE THIS BARN WHEN YOU SCREAM MORE The Rainbow Pie eating Applejack alive while worms dance and chant around them CHASE THIS BARN CHASE THIS BARN INTO SEYMOUR The Rainbow Pie gives birth to millions of baby Applejacks that in turn eat their mother CRAZY'S BARN CRAZY'S BARN WHEN YOU SEE DOORS When she comes to, Applejack is lying on her back in her bed. Outside, the sun shines proudly down on Equestria, the apple orchard practically greeting the sun with a glow. She takes a deep breath, and looks around her room. Everything is as it should be. A knock comes at the door. "Come in," says Applejack. Her visitor enters. Big Macintosh, ever the feisty one, sports a fancy pink dress and has his hair done up in the usual beehive style he favors. His makeup was applied haphazardly this morning, but the sunlight nonetheless makes him seem radiant. "How are you doing?" he asks in that falsetto Applejack had come to love. "Jess fine," Applejack responds. "What in the hay happened?" "You had a nasty spill," Big Macintosh says. "Hit your head on several flights of stairs. Then on a hammer. And then on a tree. You were moaning in your sleep. Were you having a bad dream?" Applejack scratches the thick fur on her chin, trying to remember what exactly she was dreaming about. "Ah cain't recall it that good... somethin' about a pie." Big Macintosh runs a hoof over his sister's hairy ear. "Well, don't worry about it too much. I'm just glad you're OK." He turns to leave. "Breakfast is on the table. Come on down once you're ready." And with that, he leaves. Applejack jumps out of her bed and stretches. She looks around again, and her eyes land on her mirror. While she has never been one to fuss over her own appearance, that never meant Applejack preferred to look like the living dead. She takes her hairbrush and goes right to work getting her brown and white fur to look just right. Afterwards, she grabs her red collar off the mantelpiece, puts it on, and heads down to breakfast. On her way there, she pets Winona, whose golden orange coat and blonde mane are looking especially vibrant today. At the table are Big Macintosh and Granny Smith, who is still stuck in that painting like she has been for four hundred years. Unable to reach over the table, Granny Smith settles for just having her grandchildren throw the food at her. She is usually quick enough to grab it just as it hits her face. "Where's Apple Bloom?" asks Applejack inquisitively. "Up here," comes a voice from the ceiling. Looking up, Applejack finds her sister sitting down (or is it "up"?) on the ceiling. She has a fishing line, the same one she uses to grab food from the table, and is noshing on an apple she'd fished from the bowl. She waves to her sister below. Applejack nods and sits down to eat. Whatever the dream was, she has forgotten about it by now. As she eats the apples in the bowl before her, Applejack hums a little song about raising barns. Everything is turning out to be the perfect morning. Everything is perfectly normal. Perfectly. Normal.