//------------------------------// // Part 3: Applejack // Story: Which Pony Shall I Be Today? // by deadpansnarker //------------------------------// "...So, you were running around like a headless chicken. I think you saw a horsemeat salesman and panicked or something, and before you knew it you'd beaned your bonce on an low hanging pillar. That would explain the temporary amnesia, so we better go home and you can get some rest in your extra-large bed..." My off-the-cuff explanation as to why Big Mac had no prior recollection of his activities up to the point where he'd passed the mansion with the day's crop, pretty much sucked donkey balls. Fortunately, the scarlet behemoth was so bewildered at this stage, he might well have believed any old cobblers. Perhaps even... that he'd been abducted by sadistic extra-terrestrials to be placed in an observatory and studied at least one day a week by lower lifeforms. What are the chances, eh? Anyway, it was with a grunted, monosyllabic "Yup" (my God, is that the extent of his vocabulary, along with "Nope?" no wonder everypony was surprised by my verbosity earlier) we went off on our merry little way, with me insisting he take the lead back to the ol' homestead. After all, as they would say in what is clearly a matriarchal society, gentlecolts first... Real reason: I had no ****ing idea which direction to take, or even what our place of habitation looked like. If I had to guess, my bet would be some shabby little shack sitting in the middle of nowhere, with a banjo-strumming dungarees-clad redneck on the front porch. Aren't stereotypes amazing, and so convenient? You can probably evaluate my worldview by checking out my DVD collection. Who needs books and real life experiences, when you can rely on sensationalist Hollywood generalisations? I followed my much bigger brother as we weaved and wended our way through the busy morning crowd, all the while hoping and praying that we wouldn't encounter anypony present at the scene of his acrimonious break-up. If Big Mac were to discover the scandalous truth behind the loss of the apple of his eye, he'd have many questions I wouldn't have the answer to, and those hooves looked mighty powerful... Arrgh! Stay focused, man. You don't want to share a room with Diamond Tiara at the nut house, do you? That could never work... She'd play her music too loud, you'd complain too much and neither of us would be able to agree on who got the top bunk. It always happens. Another thing I noticed, as I persevered past the quaint cottages and unsuspecting ponies (I've also seen they have unicorns here, too. This joint has more equine varieties than M&M colours) I can only marvel at how graceful and lithe this new body of mine is. Also, it may belong to a girl (casual sexism alert) but I can feel the strength bulging in both the front and hind legs. The only downside is that something very important is missing down below, but even so: I want to know this mare's workout routine. I'd ask her myself, but her soul right now is probably trapped somewhere in limbo, and I do not have a map of the area. Ah well... My mind ceases wandering the same time my physical state does, as the stoppage of the giant figure in front signifies the end of our little journey. A large expanse of fertile land lay before us (no surprises there) surrounded by apple trees (that would explain the produce from earlier) and a ramshackle hut fit for the wrecker's ball (Yep, it looks like I got the hat-trick of predictions correct. Thank you, crystal ball.) What I didn't expect is for some little runt to come charging down the path, an oversized ribbon in her scarlet mane and covered in yellow fuzz like me when I haven't shaved. Ugh, I hate kids. "Applejack, ya back!" She exclaimed in a shrill rural accent that was becoming all-too-common to these pointy ears, including my own voice. I always skipped the Beverly Hillbillies reruns on my TV... and now it looked I was starring in a real-life version of their goonish escapades. Great. "You must be... Apple Bloom?" I remembered what Applejack had told me about the filly she raised single-hoofedly earlier, while I was still commandeering the big lug. Hopefully, this meant she was my honest-to-goodness sister, and not the tragic victim of generations of systematic inbreeding through the bumpkin program. I know... I'm a very prejudiced individual. You ought to hear my views on gypsies... "...And you 'must' be hungry..." Apple Bloom laughed, thinking that my discomfiture over her name was part of an elaborate joke. "Come on, Granny's cookin' up a storm in the kitchen. Guess what we're having for lunch... apple fritters and apple slices, with apple pie for dessert! All washed down with a nice glass of apple juice! Betcha can't wait, huh?" "Got anything non-fruit related...?" I couldn't help but ask. It's not like I hated apple, though this menu as presented erred a little on the repetitive side. It's just... most fruits have a strange effect on my digestive system. You see, they make me... "Oh, Applejack! You really are in a funny mood today!" Momentarily taken aback by my unenthusiastic response, Apple Bloom soon fancied that I was carrying on my bad gag from earlier. "Come on, before Granny rings the bell! Let's get to the table first... really freak her out!" "Y-yeah..." I stammered in earnest, as I was led away by my rambunctious escort. You wanna know 'freaked out', dear? Try waking up in an off-the-wall riding school where the horses are the people and the people... are nowhere to be seen. Yeah, I think I've conceived enough analogies to describe this whacked-out place. From now on, until I learn it's real name, I'll simply call this universe 'Neightopia'. DVD collection, anyone? Remember? Another troubling matter was Big Mac's consistently suspicious looks in my general direction. He hadn't stopped gawking at me since he regained his senses, casually observing my every move all the way here, especially when he thought my attention was elsewhere. It's obvious that he suspects something, but what can I do about it? I only had the briefest of conversations with Applejack... hardly enough material to base an entire performance off of for her character. Hey, you want improv, go to the actors studio. I'm just a simple English Lit student from Blighty, not a Oscar winner in the making. Sorry to be such a huge disappointment. Both to you, and my real parents. Meanwhile, the three of us proceeded inside the dilapidated cabin, to the annoying refrain of a dog barking, and a ceaseless jingling from somewhere else. "Oh darn it, she beat us to the mark again!" Apple Bloom lamented, frustrated that Granny had managed to peal the bell before the filly was seated... While I was just staggered, after examining the less-than-salubrious interior, the door didn't collapse as soon as I slammed it. Will wonders never cease. Although, my current situation is one 'wonder' I'd be more than pleased to see reach it's conclusion. .................................................................................................................. "Come on, dear. Yer barely touched yer meal, and yet here I am, ready to dish out seconds! I made all your favourites, special like! I swear, kids these days... so darn ungrateful...mutter... mumble" And so it was, that I found myself being lectured by some cantankerous old bore, having my hooves licked by a canine named after a notorious shoplifter, while my little 'sister' was stuffing her face with mush and my big 'brother' grew ever more wary of my incongruity, all in a noisy environment that absolutely reeked of animal dung. How's your life going? Great? Well, **** you, too. If I was more curious, I might have asked a few questions. Like: why are we keeping pigs, when ponies are vegetarian? (even I, as a non veterinarian, knows that much). What's with all the stupid apple-related names this family has (I facehoofed when I found out Granny's surname was 'Smith'. Ouch, that smarted.) ...Finally, what is this strange sensation I have in my midriff? It better not be what I think it is... I don't think I'm prepared for that particular experience yet. Presently, Apple Bloom was regaling us all with the 'fascinating' tale of her day so far. With her mouth full, of course. "...Me and the girls helped Sky Dive get her parachuting cutie mark, then we finished mending the hole which Bulk Biceps made in our hut a few months back..." I'm sure this all would have been absolutely captivating, if I could understand a word of it. At least now, I was beginning to appreciate the confusion that arose in this neighbourhood when I started waffling on about off-world trends. The last segment of Apple Bloom's comment caught my attention, though. "...And later on, we're off to visit Diamond Tiara at the psychiatric ward! Poor thing... I know she used to bully us, but she doesn't deserve to be stuck inside all day, wearing a jacket with no sleeves. I wonder what happened to her, anyway? I just heard the news from Sweetie Belle, who heard it from Rarity, who found out it from..." "Now, now Apple Bloom..." Granny Smith chastised the youngster. She seemed a kindly sort, if a little too bogey-green in hue for my liking. "It's not nice to spread rumours, even if they are about the young filly who disrespected our heritage. Big Mac, what did you do today? Did you get to market on time, and sell all the apples as you promised? A bit more elaboration in your speech would be appreciated, for once..." "I guess I did... though I can't really remember..." Big Mac spoke as if the simple art of talking was like scaling Mount Everest with one hoof, but his unwavering eyes never left mine for a second. "That don't matter, though. I gotta date tonight. I must say, I'm looking forward to that..." "Oh, yes!" Granny Smith smiled encouragingly, a clear sparkle glowing in her bleary old eyes. "You and that Miss Cheerilee have been stepping out quite a lot recently, haven't ya? Tell me, young stud, do ya think you'll be ready to 'pop the question' anytime soon? I'm not getting any younger ya know, and I'd sure like to see some baby apples before I pass onto the other side..." Big Mac blushed so hard, he turned an even brighter shade than normal. "G-Granny... it's early days yet. We're taking things slow. One step at a time, okay?" "Well, you just make sure you make an honest girl out of her soon. Ponies like that only come around once in a Zap Apple harvest... believe me, I know. Heed my advice: Take the plunge, before it's too late..." Granny Smith sighed in contemplation, while my conscience grappled with the fact that I'd not only destroyed the poor guy's love life, but his elder relation's chance of enjoying her 'golden years' with foals aplenty. Damn... where's Jiminy Cricket when you need him? "...So what did you do today, dear?" I snapped out of my self-loathing at the sound of Granny Smith's crinkled voice, with Apple Bloom's friendly face and Big Mac's not-quite-so-amiable countenance also hanging on my every word. "E-Erm..." I hesitated, trying to provide a viable schedule for what a strong female pony might do with her spare time. By the looks of this coat, I guess we can rule out 'takes a bath'. "Didn't you say earlier you had an urgent message to deliver to Princess Twilight?" Apple Bloom seemed surprised that I could forget such a pertinent detail. Like her brother, the first hints of distrust were starting to form, and I needed to think fast. "Y-Yeah... that." I exclaimed, my nervousness clear to all around me. I never was any good in high pressure situations. Play poker with me, and you go home with my shirt by the end of the night. "And also farmwork. Lots and lots of farmwork. Also, a walk. True story. What, you got a problem with that, bro?" "Oh, that's nice, dear..." Granny Smith seemed more than happy with my update, and returned to her liquidised apple chunks with relish. Apple Bloom and Big Mac though, on the other hoof, seemed less than convinced. Especially the latter, who was beginning to show signs of outright hostility towards me. It was Apple Bloom who piped up first, though. "Hey, sis... are you sure you're fine?" she inquired, clearly agitated. I was about to answer, but the build-up in my bladder had now reached cataclysmic proportions. You see, even though I'd barely eaten enough apple to feed a snail, it was still more than enough to send my metabolism into overdrive. And now, I really needed to go. Out of both ends. In front of my dumbfounded fake family, I flipped the table over in desperation, knocking over a whimpering mutt in the process. I was on my way outta there, in a frantic race for the bathroom. Wait a sec, do they even have bathrooms here? After all, back on sweet, sweet, Mother Earth, ponies just go wherever they please. What about toilet roll? Or washing your hooves? Or numbers one and two, or... Oops, no time to ponder the complexities of my predicament any further. I had to locate the possibly non-existent room, before I really blew a gasket. On a random whim, I ran upstairs, checking each room in turn to discover that most of them were simply bedrooms. Very useful if you want to take a nap, not so much for a diarrhea explosion. There was one closed door though. That had to be it. I quickly thrust it open, on the one hoof thankful to be free of this overwhelming urge, on the other, not so much looking forward to acquainting myself to an equine's lady parts... Only for my expectations to be dashed, as I was caught in the midst of an unforecast avalanche. Of apples, naturally. Sums up my luck, of late. I knew I shouldn't have jumped in front of that bloke who looked like a leprechaun in the queue for gas the other day... As I lay there dazed and regretful, my other fake family members artfully dodged the bruised fruit that were now cascading down the stairs, to gaze at me with unreadable expressions. "...Applejack, why did ya let all of our unsold stock out of the pantry?" Apple Bloom took a step forward, wanting to know the answer. "I just wanted... to find the bathroom... but I came unstuck... dealing with your sick apple fetish." I gasped in pain, counting the amount of fresh lumps on my head due to these rubes' carelessness. Around a dozen, was a decent estimate. "Applejack, you know we've been using the outhouse since you were a wee one... what's gotten into you today?!" Granny Smith wheezed from further down the steps, proving that Stannah didn't have a business in this world. If that senile old dear could critique me, I knew I was in trouble. "I-I..." Sadly, a combination of my incoming migraine and an inability to think of an excuse led to Big Mac to speak next, and that was my undoing. "I'll tell you what's 'gotten into her' " Big Mac exclaimed, his nostrils flared out in anger. "That imposter there ain't our Applejack!! She don't walk like my sister, she don't talk like my sister, and she don't even like apples! The final kicker is her not even knowing the layout of the house where she's lived her whole life! That tells me there's only one possible explanation for what this 'thing' is. And that would be..." "A changeling!" Apple Bloom gasped, her eyes widened in shock. "B-But I thought they were all good now, what with Thorax as their leader, and their new paint job 'n' all. U-unless, this fraud in front of us is..." "Queen Chrysalis!" All three exclaimed at once, and began to regard me with outright contempt, with even that damn dog baring it's teeth and snarling at me. I was beginning to think maybe I'd outstayed my welcome (Also, because I'd just relieved myself in fear on the wooden floor. Oops). "Let's get her, and make her tell us where the real Applejack is!" Granny Smith's battle cry was all the other two needed to charge forward, to smother me completely. Fortunately, I was way too fast for them, and I handily evaded their dive while running down to the ground floor, through the kitchen and back into the wilderness. I knocked something off the fireplace in my retreat, but who cares? Nice, try suckers! Unfortunately, in my rush to escape, I didn't quite get off scot-free. My joy was short lived when I discovered my new physique: Small body, yellow fur, massive ribbon... Basically a smaller, runtier version of the country pony I was before. Not exactly what I would call an upgrade. Fiddlesticks...