//------------------------------// // 5. Coming Up Short // Story: Flim, Flam, and the Little Lost Apple Scam // by Georg //------------------------------// Flim, Flam, and the Little Lost Apple Scam Coming Up Short Appleloosa may not have been the center of the Equestrian social world, or even a little off-center, but it had a small library with space to grow as the tiny town turned into a much larger town. It could not compare with Ponyville’s castle and public book collection, of course, but the hallowed hall of knowledge was reigned over by a fearsome elderly librarian just as dominating with the rules as Princess Twilight in her own lair. Applejack had been the recipient of Twilight’s quiet hushed shushes far more than once or twice, because the young farmpony always had difficulties restraining her natural enthusiasm inside the library tree. After all, a clever periodical with an article on the treatment of apple scab or a new process for preventing lesser violet spotted stem blight was worth calling out to other patrons for their perusal, even if they pretended it was not that big of a deal. That blanket of implied quiet worked to her advantage today while Applejack talked one-on-one with the angry investors, whittling down their protests and complaints to simple statements they were willing to swear to on penalty of perjury. They oughta be glad I don’t swear them with Pinkie Promises. It was amazing how quiet a loud pony got when they began to write numbers down on paper for a princess to use in a trial. More than a few of them had to go back and make minor corrections for hundreds of bits in their original complaint before they felt comfortable letting Cherry Jubilee notarize their statements under Applejack’s hoof-stamp. Twilight would probably go through the whole collection on the way back to Ponyville and generate some sort of color-coded table with charts and graphs out of it all, but Applejack was content just to add up all the numbers when she was done. Then after a short period of staring, she added them up again, just in case there had been some sort of mathematical error. “With this kinda money, they shoulda showed up in a solid-gold air chariot pulled by Princess Celestia herself,” muttered Applejack. She scooped the statements into Twilight’s folder and gave it a good thump to settle all the papers down before looking around the library meeting room for any leftover trash that needed to be thrown away. It was only then that she saw the last earth pony Applejack wanted to see, standing in the meeting room doorway, just glaring at her. From the brothers’ descriptions, she could only have been Marian, with that pale pink coat seeming faded and dusty from her trip and a similarly pale cream mane tied up in a tight bun. The events of the last year had taken more out of her than a foal and some time, but there was a bumper crop of fire burning behind those golden eyes that bespoke of a lot of pent-up anger, just looking for a pony to take it out on. And she was looking at Applejack. “Uh… Hello?” Applejack picked up the folder of statements and stuffed it quickly into her saddle bag. “I’m… ah… didn’t expect to see you here. I’m sorry for taking up so much of the library’s time,” she added. There was a long pause where Marian just stood there, not moving. Then she spoke in a flat voice seeming to seethe with acid. “Rumor has it those two… creatures have been given shelter at your home,” said Marian. Her eyes flashed, and she lifted up her chin in defiance. “I thought you were the Element of Honesty.” “Ah am! Honesty, that is,” said Applejack with one hoof over her chest. “An’ I’m not giving them no shelter, except what they got out at the barn, really. Just keepin’ them in one place while we unwind whatever scheme they were up to.” “They will lie to you with every word they say,” growled Marian, still standing in the meeting room doorway as if she were glued there. “They will say the nicest things and sound oh-so honest. As they go on, everypony will start to trust them and let their guard down.” She paused to take a breath, and Applejack could see the tremor in her chest as she breathed out. “Then they will hurt you, far worse than you have ever been hurt before. Please, turn these two criminals in to the authorities and let them face justice.” The last word came out of Marian’s mouth in a near-hiss, and she stood for a long while before turning abruptly on one hoof to leave. “Wait a sec,” said Applejack almost out of reflex. “Ah know they hurt you and everypony in this town, but they deserve—” “They deserve far more than to go to jail for the rest of their natural lives,” snapped Marian, still looking away and not meeting Applejack’s eyes. “You’re one of the princess’ friends. Talk to her and have them sent away forever, far from here.” Marian strode away deeper into the library, and as much as Applejack wanted to follow her and explain, she knew that would only tear open her wounds and pour salt into them. It was a very long trip back to Ponyville. “Ah don’t know, Twi.” It had been a tiring day sitting in the train car both ways, and now that they were back in Ponyville, all Applejack wanted to do was collapse back into her bed instead of having a ‘friendship discussion’ at Twilight’s castle with Rarity and Pinkie Pie. After a stretch, she tried to get comfortable in the big crystal chair despite the razor-sharp edges and points that prodded at her backside. The Castle of Friendship needed a nice, comfortable den with a fireplace and a couple of fluffy cushions to have these friendship discussions instead of a cold, bright room made of glass and rocks. Pinkie Pie looked comfortable, and Rarity could probably look comfy if she were sitting on a pitchfork, but Applejack was sorely tempted to just bring in a cushion for her chair someday regardless of the consequences. Applejack had wondered why Pinkie Pie was at the meeting at first, but she supposed that if their trip had gone well and by some miracle, Marian had returned to patch things up with the brothers and reunite with her foal, there would have been a party. That happy occasion certainly did not seem like it was going to happen soon, if at all. “Really, I’m certain you did all you could, Applejack.” Rarity sighed and shook her head. “Some scars take longer to heal than others.” “Marian ain’t healin’ nothing, Rarity. It’s like there’s this big hole in her heart, all full of anger.” Applejack put her head down on the table and bonked it several times. “I wanted so much to tell her all about her foal, but that would just hurt her more. The two stallions she hates the most with her own flesh and blood? She’d pop a blood vessel for sure. Is there anything in those papers that can help, Twilight?” “I’m afraid not.” Twilight placed the stack of papers to one side with a faint grimace, most probably because of having to make a report on her investigations without enough time to make charts or graphs. “It actually looks like their design was… possible, if very difficult. They seemed to be trying to do what they said, but there’s just too many variables.” Applejack snorted. “Some widget what tries to do everything for everypony ends up doin’ nuttin’ for nopony. Even I know that.” “It’s quite a problem in the fashion world too,” said Rarity. “You try to do as much as you can with what you have, and stop before you ruin everything.” “Like the Gala dresses,” said Applejack. “Well…” Rarity hesitated. “Yes.” Applejack sat back up in her chair and yawned. “Not a bad day’s work, but not too good a one neither. At least we can see about selling off that hunk of junk they were building and pay the ponies back, right Twilight?” Twilight did not say anything other than to flip beads on her abacus with a frown of concentration. “Oh, come on, Twi.” Applejack huffed. “There was a heap of bits what went into making that huge machine.” “Mostly custom thaumaturgical constructs and specialized parts,” said Twilight. “If broken down and sold, I don’t think the investors would get back much more than thirty percent of their investment, at best.” “Better’n zero,” said Applejack. “Ah plan on making up the difference out of Sweet Apple Acres’ emergency fund.” “Just a moment, Applejack.” Twilight Sparkle flipped several more beads on her abacus and looked up. “We still don’t know for certain if the Flim-Flam brothers are even related to you. Don’t you think it’s premature to pledge your family’s savings to make up for their misdeeds?” “Don’t matter,” said Applejack. “It’s the right thing to do, since we took in those scoundrels. The farm will get by just fine, if we scrimp real careful for a few years.” “Wait just one minute,” declared Rarity. “You’re not doing this without our assistance. What kind of a friend would we be if we did not help out our friends? I know you want to protect those two handsome young—” She paused, looking conflicted for a moment until Pinkie Pie popped up. “What Rarity is trying to say is we’re with you all the way, Applejack, from the party planning to the cleanup, and this is one big mess to clean up, like the time—” The fortuitous insertion of Twilight Sparkle’s hoof into Pinkie Pie’s mouth let the Princess of Friendship get a word in edgewise. “You don’t have any legal liability to Flim and Flam’s debts, Applejack. It’s been almost a year since they originally defrauded the town, so another few days won’t make too much of a difference anyway.” Twilight Sparkle tapped the stack of claims in front of her. “I’m sure the greater portion of the townsponies’ losses can be quickly reimbursed by the Royal Contingency Fund, even though it was fairly well hit by the Braynard Neighdoff pyramid scheme that just blew up in Manehattan last month. In the end, Flim and Flam will still have to stand trial for criminal fraud before their prototype can be dismantled and sold to cover a portion of the rest. It’s evidence for the trial, after all.” “We can all chip in to cover what’s left,” said Rarity. “Certainly, if the brothers are thrown into jail, they’re not going to be able to contribute to reimbursing the victims of their deceit.” “In a way, they are now,” said Applejack. “With them workin’ out at the farm, the bits they earn can go to all them ponies they cheated. I figure it won’t take more than…” She stopped and thought for a while, but with a clatter of abacus beads, Twilight Sparkle reached the answer first. “At the earliest, seventeen years,” she said with a flick of one last bead. “Not counting any interest or penalties.” * ♥ * While Applejack got ready for bed that evening by giving Apple Sprout a bubblebath in the family tub, she had to consider the wet and playful focus of the way life had changed around her with one simple addition. Serious Applejack, Determined Applejack, and Angry Applejack had all taken a step backwards to allow Mommy… No, she was not a mother to the little unicorn who was playing in the bubbles in the bottom of the tub instead of being scrubbed clean. Aunt Applejack maybe, at best. Maybe just a tiny bit of Mommy Applejack around the corners, which was all she really wanted to admit to, despite it feeling as if she were lying to herself. And durned if it don’t feel good. She picked up the scrub brush in her teeth and gave Sprout a farm-quality sudsing, then ducking and weaving in a short game before rinsing out most of the bubbles with a slosh from the rinse bucket. Well, all of the bubbles except for a couple that the foal was having too much fun playing with. “Your pa and your uncle is in a heap of trouble, squirt. At least they’ll be outta jail by the time you’re ready to go off on your own. Mebbie you can make them into honest salesponies, once they’ve served their time.” The unicorn sneezed around a soap bubble, and her horn gave off a brief flash of light. It made the whole room smell of elderberries and smoke for a moment, and signaled the end of bathtime and silly daydreams for the evening. Applejack finished the rinsing and pulled the foal up out of the tub for a vigorous rub-down and quick nose-booping round of play before getting a fresh diaper out and trying to incarcerate Sprout into it. “You don’t want to go to bed yet, do ya? I woulda thought you playing with your papa all day would wear you out. You know, all good Apples head off to sleep early as they can to get a head start on the morning, right?” Apple Sprout reacted to this sage advice with a splutter and giggle before sprinting for naked freedom. Once she had gotten the youngest Apple cornered and diapered after a romp through the house, complicated by Apple Bloom spotting an opportunity to get out of her bed and ‘help’ with the chase, Applejack scooped the unicorn foal up and gave her a hug. “You are such a night owl. Maybe Twilight would like to watch you in the castle for a few evenings to keep herself awake while she studies. At least your pappa and your uncle know enough to go to sleep when they can. See?” Applejack opened the window curtains and pointed out to the barn, which had an unexpected light on in the back room. “Huh, that’s odd. Well, maybe they just can’t sleep neither, like you. Come on, Sprout. I’ll read ya my copy of Rooty the Rootabaga an’ see if that’ll put you to sleep. If’n that don’t work, we’ll take a walk.” The old book was frayed and tattered with several generations of Apple tooth marks and nose prints, but Applejack treated the simple pasteboard pages like they were made of gold. She settled down in bed and arranged the bassinet beside her before holding the book in the lamplight and showing it to Apple Sprout. “See here, little filly. Them tooth marks there was made by my pappy, when he was carrying the book upstairs to read to me and tripped on one of Big Mac’s toys. He made such a racket, all whining and cuttin’ off his curses short as not to harm our delicate young ears. Mama laughed and called him a silly pony, but Big Mac didn’t leave no more toys scattered around after that.” The book reading went on for a long time that evening until the foal finally slipped off to slumber, but after all of the lights in the Apple household had gone out, the light out in the barn continued to glow.