//------------------------------// // The South Rises for Like Seventeen Minutes // Story: Beer and a Knife Fight 3: Beer Hard With a Vengeance // by PresentPerfect //------------------------------// Beer and a Knife Fight 3: Beer Hard With a Vengeance by Present Perfect Chapter 3: The South Rises for Like Seventeen Minutes Keep them mem'ries close at hoof, and keep yer guns a-shine. Soon that blessed day will come: retake the Ponyville Line! Having recited their sacred oath, the crowd stomped, hooted and hollered in front of the stage in Sweet Apple Acres' barn. Up on the recently erected stage, in front of the curtains swiped from Granny's stockpile, Applejack was feeling good. She'd gotten them riled up and reminded them of their sworn duties as True Ponies of South Equestria. Now all she had to do was turn that energy toward their mutual, sworn enemy, and the uprising would be a success. That said, the lack of certain familial faces saddened her. Big Mac had had a point that they couldn't both lead the revolt; cider season was coming up and there were trees that needed bucking. And Granny Smith got a pass for being too old to fight, though her claim that "Y'all're fixin' t' get yer hides tanned" concerned AJ just a bit. Granny wasn't too old for reconditioning, but that would have to wait until after the uprising was successful. It was her sister's absence that hit her harder than anything else. Apple Bloom's complete lack of interest in revolution had cut Applejack to her Apple core. Hadn't she raised that filly right? Who could grow up on a farm like theirs and be content with being the slave of the ruling class? She never should have let that girl graduate the second grade. At least her cousin and numerous other Apples from Appleloosa and elsewhere had made it. Though she wished Braeburn hadn't worn those earrings. They clashed horribly with his dress. He always had been a disappointment. "All right," she said, turning back to the assembled mob, "listen up, y'all! The Royals're infightin' somethin' fierce over Canterlot, so our time has come at long last! The plan was made long enough ago that y'all oughta know it by heart now." The crowd hooted and grunted in agreement, except for Ma Hooffield and Big Daddy McColt, who were necking loudly off to the side. Applejack suppressed a shudder; there were not enough teeth between the pair to fill one mouth, let alone two. "What we're fixin' t'do today is a short inventory," she continued. "Once we're sure we got everythin' we need, it'll be time..." She paused, not only for dramatic effect, but also because she was starting to feel the crowd's excitement herself. "To retake the Ponyville line!" Hats were thrown in the air. Do-si-dos broke out among the gathered revolutionaries. Applejack couldn't have been prouder. "So, first order o' business: how many guns we got?" More than a dozen stallions raised their hooves. AJ grinned. "Now, are all y'all sure about that?" A stallion in the front row scoffed. "Tuh! Sure am, Miss Applejack! Why, my little Potato Sprout--" he nodded to a tan colt standing beside him-- "was called a son of a gun just last Thursday! I done kept track, and I been shinin' myself ever since!" The other stallions who had identified themselves nodded agreement. A mare behind him coughed and murmured, "You'd better believe he has." "Well done, then," Applejack said, striding along the stage. "We're off to a great start. Now, all our guns need bullets t' work right, and as y'all know, bullets go fast. So how many fast things did y'all bring?" Shouts of "I got birds!" and "I brought my wagon!" filled the air. Applejack was happy to note Spoiled Rich, of all ponies, striding forward, her usual smug uppitiness replaced with a smug grin. The presence of the Riches had really surprised her at first. She never would have considered Ponyville's wealthiest family ripe for revolution; they tended to have ponies that did that kind of thing for them. Maybe their long history with the Apple Family had been what convinced Filthy Rich of the need for the hooves-on approach. "My husband," said Spoiled as she reached the stage, "is the fastest pony I know. He should suffice, I think." A slew of low guffaws broke out around the crowd as Filthy Rich's face turned a deep shade of crimson. Applejack chuckled. "Thank ya kindly, Missus Rich, an' mighty pleased to have yer assistance, too." Catching sight of a waving hoof, she looked up. "Yeah, Cousin Braeburn?" "I brought Rainbow Dash!" Applejack was taken aback by that. "Rainbow Dash?" Braeburn nodded earnestly, earrings jingling. "She's the fastest thing in Equestria!" Applejack frowned. A disappointment indeed. "Braeburn, Rainbow Dash is a pegasus. She ain't exactly gonna understand the struggles of our pro-lah-tay-riot." She scanned the skies quickly. "And where is she, anyway?" "Uhh." Braeburn turned his eyes skyward as well. Soon, everypony present had their nose pointed up. Shouts of "Is it the North a-comin'?" started up. The crowd was getting antsy; Applejack didn't like where this was going. "Look," she said, waving her hooves to get everypony's attention, "we got plenty of bullets, we don't need Rainbow Dash. Even if she would be the sexiest-- err, best bullet. Let's just focus on the task at hoof." She gave Braeburn a withering glare. "And go fix yer mascara, Braeburn. If'n ya can't be useful to the cause, ya can at least look pretty fer the revolution." Braeburn ran off to the little fillies' room, tears streaming down his face. Shaking her head, Applejack did her best to smile. "Well, that's guns and bullets covered, so we just need one more thing! Cousin Apple Fritter?" Nodding, the green and yellow mare trotted up on the stage, pulling back the curtain to reveal a stack of dozens of cider crates. Apple Fritter grabbed a crowbar and pried one of them open. Hundreds upon hundreds of glossy pages tumbled out. "Magazines!" Applejack cheered, and the crowd gave a loud hurrah. She stepped over to the pile and picked a few up, holding them up for the crowd to better see. "I been collectin' these outta Rarity's trash for the last year! It's a wonder and a shame what them snooty unicorn types'll just throw away." She shook her head sadly. "That's why, when we've finally retaken the Ponyville Line, there'll be rules about needless waste!" Heads nodded seriously. Of course, these weren't all the magazines Applejack had found. She knew ahead of time there would be foals present, after all, so she'd kept the more unseemly ones to the side. Under her bed. For, uh, personal research. Especially the swimsuit editions. Rarity would suffer in the uprising for tearing out all the centerfolds; Applejack would make sure of it. "The time is nigh!" she shouted, taking a moment to look each of her followers in the eye. "What I'm askin' y'all to do ain't no small task. There's every chance some o' y'all won't make it back. So hug yer foals, kiss yer wives, an' grab as many bullets and magazines as you can carry. Come this day, we retake the Ponyville Line! Yee-haw!" She reared up on her hind legs, and the mob went crazy, shouting and cheering and rushing the stage to gather magazines as the crates were pried open. The time had come at long last. Later that day, an angry mob found itself stymied at the Canterlot City gates. The City Watch gazed down at them warily from atop the parapets, but no hostile action was taken by either side while the assembly tried to make heads or tails of the situation. They had at last called forth a younger member of their number, who could actually read, and she had delivered the fatal news. "Are ya completely sure?" The filly nodded. "Yeth, Mith Applejack! It thayth 'No trethpathin''!" Applejack was crestfallen. She removed her hat and held it over her heart for a moment. Steeling herself, she turned to her assembled followers, giving them a sober look. "Mares and gentlecolts," she began, "I thank y'all for all yer hard work, but I'm afraid this is the end." A chorus of awws and boos ran through the crowd. "Fact is, as True Ponies of South Equestria, we simply can't disrespect property rights. Think o' how you'd feel if'n some Northerner trespassed on your land!" The disappointment and sadness turned into nods of solemn understanding and more than a few disappointed sniffles. Applejack put her hat back on. "All right, pack it up. We got refreshments, at least." She sighed. "We'll just have to overthrow Celestia another day, Celestia bless."