//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: The Cosby Show: Pudding is Magic // by neutralmilk //------------------------------// The Cosby Show: Pudding is Magic Chapter 4 by neutralmilk “`Ah never worked on a farm before!” Bill Cosby declared excitedly, crouching down to pick up a large barrel filled to the brim with shiny, red apples. Applejack turned her head and sighed, watching him wrap his arms around the barrel and lift it with little difficulty. Parts of his bizarre dark purple sweater complete with small, knitted apples on it stuck out from behind the wooden container. Bill teetered for a moment and stopped suddenly, the usual smile on his face fading quickly. Unexpectedly, he flopped backwards overdramatically, his arms flailing about as if made of noodles instead of muscle and bone. “Azip-zoppidy-Woooooooh!” he shouted out as he finally landed flat on his back, the apple barrel crashing behind him and sending its precious cargo rolling about the field. “That’s funny, Sugarcube.” Applejack grunted. “Cause you sure ain’t working on one now.” She trotted over to the downed human and offered him a hoof to which Bill Cosby accepted gratefully. He slowly rose to his feet. “Are y`all alright?” she asked kindly, noting a small rip in his sweater by his shoulder. Bill Cosby brushed his khakis off and nodded, his smile slowly returning. “Why, I’ve never felt better!” His eyes turned down toward the tear. “Oh, pay no mind to the sweater.” He waved his hand dismissingly. His smile was warm and genuine. “It was surely my own fault! Work is meant to be taken seriously, afterall!” The orange mare stood still, staring at the elder comedian as he hurriedly went about his immediate area picking up whatever apples he could reach. Effortlessly, Bill snatched his now half-full barrel and began his trek back toward the barn. “To make up for my foolishness, I’ll take your barrels as well, my next go around!” he shouted back over his shoulder. Applejack watched him walk off into the distance until he was unseen. Not once did he stop to dance, chuckle loudly at nothing, or distort his face into nightmarish images. “What in the hay?” she asked aloud to nopony in particular. A light breeze gently played with her mane, making her shiver momentarily. Her eyes scanned the ground for more loose apples, only spotting a few – most bruised and damaged enough that they were better off as fertilizer. She sighed and started toward her barrels. “Well, ain’t no use cryin’ over spilt apples.” Expertly, she lashed them to her sides and started her long walk back to the barn. “`Ah guess `ah’ll just hafta make him work twice as hard.” She had done this walk more times than she could count, for more years than she cared to remember. It came with the territory, she knew. Hard work had been a part of her life, and she loved every minute of it. She loved the sweat in her mane after a long day, the dirt and mud caked to her hooves. The overall feeling of satisfaction a day of labor gave her. Another breeze swept by, threatening to knock her trademark Stetson from her head. Instinctively, she froze, grabbed the brim and pulled down until it was secured once more. She took the moment to look at the barn in the distance, the bright red building standing in sharp contrast to the blue sky and its small, sporadically placed clouds. Bill Cosby was nowhere to be seen – hopefully indicating that he was inside and sorting the apples. A deep breath and Applejack was back marching in time to a silent beat toward the barn. A weary smile sat planted on her lips as her mind ran through the life she had lived thus far on Sweet Apple Acres – and the many more years she would spend walking down the same path to the same beat. “A-Floop!” Applejack paused and looked up, to be greeted again by the image of the barn surrounded by rows and rows of apple trees. Another gust of wind blew directly into her face, forcing her to look away momentarily. “That’s funny…” her voice trailed off. As the wind subsided, she looked around. “`Ah coulda’ sworn `ah heard somethin’...” Spotting nothing, she shrugged it off and continued walking, her mind starting to wander once more. “Zip-zip-azoop!” Applejack again looked up, expecting Bill Cosby to be blocking her path with a stupid look adorning his face. Yet, as before, she found herself alone – not a single Jell-o pudding cup or sweater in sight. “Is anypony there?” she called out into the wind. A minute passed without so much as a goofy laugh from the out-of-touch comedian. “Now this is just plain silly.” Applejack grumbled, picking up the barrels once again and walking. “Ya know! The dentists, they tell ya not to pick your teeth…” The orange mare had yet to step ten feet before the sudden outburst sent her jumping. A feeling of panic spread through her body as spun around in a full circle, desperately searching for Bill Cosby – even staring through the branches of nearby apple trees. She knew that she heard him, his voice and “jokes” were unmistakable. But he was nowhere to be seen. Applejack picked up her pace, trotting steadily toward the barn. “Hey hey hey! I’m here to play!” Bill’s voice called, seemingly from thin air. Applejack looked behind her, spotted nothing and continued forward, her tempo hastening. The barn was growing larger in her field of view. Her destination – her haven. “My daughter was so rude, in fact, that’s how she got her name! Rud-Eeeeeeee! Rud-Eeeeeeee!” Applejack was galloping at full speed now, desperately hoping to outrun the oncoming “jokes” and the mysterious appearance of canned laughter echoing from the heavens. “But where does the stork get the babies from?! A-zippity-zow-wow!” “Oh sweet Celestia, make it stop! Please?!” Applejack pleaded over the sounds of another “Fat Albert” joke. Her mad dash was just about finished when suddenly the skies above her were silent. No jokes or laughter. Not a single sound. Applejack slowed to a stop by the barn door, gasping for breath. She smiled, relieved. The feeling receded quickly, though, as she knew that inside the barn was the man himself, Bill Cosby. Had this all been an elaborate trick he’d been playing? Did Bill Cosby truly posses such immense power? Or was Applejack losing her mind – her long day with the comedian taking its toll. She was unsure, but knew deep in her gut that the answer had to be behind the door. Sweat dripped from her brow, and a feeling of dread washed over her. Slowly, she raised a hoof the door and nudged it open. There, showered in streaks of sunlight that broke through the barns many cracks, sat a large number of barrels, filled to the brim with bright red apples. Applejack slowly looked over the entirety of the barn, searching for any sign of Bill Cosby – and failing in the process. Carefully, she stepped inside. “A-are ya’ in here?” her voice faltered. She took a deep breath to regain her composure and continued further into her family’s barn. “Flibbity-zowie!” Applejack paused, hoping to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from. Silence. She turned back toward the entrance, wondering, perhaps, if Bill Cosby had ran outside. “Well if it isn’t the Cracklejack!” a voice started from behind her. “So I got the boy tube socks!” another, the same voice, cracked. Another voice started humming, while another started talking about his Hawaiian themed sweater – this in turn starting a chorus of other voices discussing their own sweaters. Applejack slowly turned to find the barrels full not with apples, but miniature Bill Cosby heads – each making its own face and shouting out “jokes” for cheap laughs. They spun around in their barrels, moving about to discuss sweaters, and attempting to dance – one of them succeeding in falling to ground and rolling over to Applejack. “A-woooh-woooh-woooooh! I think I’m getting’ dizzy, a-zoop!” it cried, before looking straight up and sucking its cheeks in as far as they could go. Applejack stood, scared stiff. Her mind was at a complete loss – nothing could have prepared her for this ultimate nightmare. Suddenly, she felt a hoof – no, a hand grip her shoulder. She turned to find the full-sized Bill Cosby standing behind her, his face hidden by sunlight, save for a huge smile tucked above his double-chin. He gradually leaned down, stopping next to Applejack’s face. He opened his eyelids wide, revealing to Applejack two miniature Bill Cosby heads implanted into his eye-sockets where his eyes once were. His smile remained static. “You got any jell-o pudding?” his eyes asked, simultaneously. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` Applejack let out a shout of terror as her eyes shot open, revealing what could only be described as the most perfect possible day in Ponyville. Her breathing rapid, Applejack jumped to her hooves and eyed her surroundings. Sweet Apple Acres looked exactly as it always did, and judging by the imprint in the grass, it looked like she had fallen asleep under the midday sun. Relieved, she wiped the sweat from her brow and stretched. “It wasn’t real.” She said aloud to herself, trying to push the image of the Bill Cosby heads out of her memory. “`Ah guess it’s time to git back to work.” Applejack gathered a few barrels of apples and slowly began lashing them. She remembered now that Bill was (supposed to be) hard at work in the barn, giving her plenty of free time to get some bucking done. And yet, as she readied herself for more work, her mind was still troubled – as if she had forgotten something. Or, somepony. “Oh my sweet Celestia!” Applejack shouted, suddenly. “Where in the hay is Apple Bloom?!” She thought back as hard as she could – Apple Bloom wasn’t in school today. She also hadn’t gone out crusading with her friends, as far as she knew. In fact the last time Applejack had seen Apple Bloom, the filly was walking toward the barn – the very place Bill Cosby was now. A twinge of panic came over Applejack at the thought of Bill Cosby alone with her sister – the most precious thing in her life. The feeling passed into guilt, however, after remembering how Princess Celestia herself expressed her faith in the tubby comedian. But still, something in her stomach didn’t quite sit right. A flash of the Bill Cosby heads in barrels passed into her mind. She shivered with fear. A good man or not, the thought of Apple Bloom alone with him was more than Applejack could handle. “`Ah guess it wouldn’t hurt to check up on the two of them.” Applejack said into the open air, justifying her paranoia. Leaving the apples behind, Applejack began the all too familiar trek. It was at that moment the sound of shrieking pierced her ears. Applejack picked up her head and listened closely, until another screech revealed her worst fears – the sound was coming directly from Sweet Apple Acres’ own barn. Her heart dropped, and her mouth went dry. “Apple Bloom!” Applejack cried. Not wasting a single second, the orange mare took off in a full gallop, her eyes fixed on the barn’s front doors. Another squeal rang out as she dashed closer and closer, panic in her chest. She could only imagine what horrors Bill Cosby was up to. Dancing stupidly to cheesy synth 80s songs? The thought made Applejack shiver. Perhaps making Apple Bloom eat too many pudding cups! Or what if he was cartoonishly chasing after Apple Bloom, with a large goofy grin on his face?! “AIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Apple Bloom’s voice rang out, sounding desperate. How could she have let her own sister alone with that madman? Applejack doubled her efforts toward the barn, her hooves tearing away at the grass and dirt. Guilt was eating away at her, sending tears to her eyes. If he was hurting her, she would never be able to forgive herself. At last, she had arrived, the doors cracked open. Applejack gasped for air, momentarily before bucking the door open, sending it flying off the hinges. “Apple Bloom! I’m here to save-” her voice dropped. “A-Apple Bloom!? What in the hay are you doin’?!” Applejack was taken aback at the sight before her. Bill Cosby lay on his back, his usual spaced out look with a goofy grin attached to his face. He seemed to hardly notice (or care for that matter) that just a foot or so down a cream coloured filly was jumping on his stomach, giggling madly. “How many times have `ah told you to not jump on the distended stomachs of our guests!” Apple Bloom stopped bouncing and stood still, pawing adorably, if somewhat awkwardly, on Bill’s belly. “But Applejaaaaack! It’s so squishy and bouncy! `Ah couldn’t help myself!” “`Ah don’t care if his stomach is made out of trampolines; you are not allowed to jump on Bill Cosby’s stomach! Now git down from there!” Applejack shouted, stomping a hoof firmly on the ground to emphasize her point. Apple Bloom sighed heavily and turned to face Bill Cosby. “Thanks a lot for letin’ me bounce on your belly, Mr. Cosby. You always were my favorite African American sitcom star slash comedian who peaked in the 80s and early 90s.” With that, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek which elicited a small gurgle from Bill Cosby. A small dribble of pudding oozed from his lower lip. The filly awkwardly clambered down Bill Cosby’s side and landed on the hard ground, missing the soft, comfortable feel of the man’s flabby gut. She turned her gaze one last time toward Bill Cosby and smiled, before finally disappearing through the barn door opening. Applejack sighed and stepped to the actor’s side, pulling him to his feet. She found it impossible to mince her words, instead coming out directly. “How could you let ma’ sister use you as a trampoline?” She eyed Bill Cosby sternly, waiting for a response. Instead she was greeted with silence and the same goofy grin he held on his face through the entire ordeal. No uttering’s of Jell-o pudding or Kodak cameras. “`Ah guess, honestly, `ah owe you an apology. `Ah knew the Princess Celestia gave you the ok, and hay, even though Pinkie Pie loves you, I didn’t trust ya. `Ah guess, I should’ve made the effort to get to know you before judging you.” Bill’s lips sputtered, a steady stream of pudding continuing to flow from his lips and dripping onto his mostly ruined sweater. “No, no, it’s not yer fault. It’s just that, well, ma’ family means so much to me. And the thought of something bad happenin’ to em is too much to bear.” A low groan emanated from Bill Cosby and after what seemed like a minute trailed off into silence, his mouth still hanging open awkwardly. “Ya know, `ah never thought of it like that. `Ah’m glad you agree. But `ah really ca’ expect you to forgive me. `Ah mean, you hardly even know me, and after all `ah’ve done -” The groan started up again, and slowly turned into a long, deep, (and ultimately impressive) burp. “D-do ya’ really mean it, Bill?” Applejack stuttered, a smile growing on her face. “Of course there’s always room in ma’ family for one more!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “A-And we - `ah’d - love to have you be a part of it!” The orange mare stepped forward and hugged Bill Cosby tightly. Rather than returning the affection, Bill stood still and solid. At last, gravity seemed to take over of the situation, knocking Bill Cosby back onto the ground. His belly jiggled at the impact of his fall. Applejack giggled. “Why it would be ma’ pleasure, Bill.” Slowly, carefully, Applejack stepped to the comedian’s side. She gently placed a hoof on his stomach, feeling it jiggle beneath her touch. The sweater rippled, giving the illusion of a pond disturbed by a single rock thrown in its center – a beautiful and hypnotizing sight. A feeling of warmth and love washed over the mare as she stepped onto his stomach entirely. All throughout Ponyville the sounds the laughter and squeals of happiness could be heard as Applejack jumped and played on top of Bill Cosby’s belly, without a care in the world. Next: Rainbow Dash