We fade in to a lusciously upholstered apartment with wood paneling. On the wall, there's a clock built out of the mounted cross-section of an apple tree's trunk. Framed pictures of wagons and plows flank a window, through which we see a scenic beachfront with crashing waves.
An adorable blonde farm pony—about the size of a domestic cat—finishes dusting off a series of gold trophies... all shaped like apples. She wears a bright brown overcoat with a slate gray turtleneck underneath. About five seconds into the shot, she takes notice of us... and smiles.
“Howdy, y'all...!”
She puts the duster away, adjusts the sleeves of her coat, and trots gingerly towards us across the thick furry carpet.
“I am Professor Applejack of the Apple Technical University.” She smiles, face full of freckles and fuzz. “And thank you for joinin' us on this here exploration of the greatest subject to ever grace the collective consciousness of equine-kind. I speak—of course—of the very fruit of our existence. The only fruit that's ever plum mattered. Ahem... please. Listen closely.”
She approaches a pedestal, atop of which plainly rests a bright round sample of fruit. She picks the item up by its stem, then cradles it before us as the camera goes in slowly for a macro shot.
“Take a gander at that. This here. That's food. That's for us. With it, everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone y'all've ever heard of, every equine being who ever was, munched out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in lurve, every ma and pa, hopeful foal, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species has eaten this—this bright red dot suspended from an apple tree.”
Cut to an extreme close-up of the smiling pony, freckles and all. Her teeth glints as she drawls with sincere enthusiasm and undeniable horse wisdom.
“The apple tree—or as it's officially known in fancy as 'Malus pumila'—originated in the arid deserts east of Stirrup, and ever since then it has been domestically grown all around the globe. And why not?! Both the globe and the apple are round! Them's kissin' cousins, y'all! Heheh!”
Cut to a wide shot as Professor Applejack places the apple back on its stand and then proceeds to trot leisurely past scale models of apple trees bent side ways, apple trees brandishing spears, apple trees doing taxes.
“But there's somethin' extra special about this here spry sproutin' tree of goodness. Throughout the epochs of time, it's outlived its surly... nastier relatives. I speak—of course—of the long extinct Anti-Gravity Apple... the Neanderthal Apple... the Whinnystreet Apple... and the Abominable Snow Apple of the Dreaded Lurch Kingdom.”
She pauses in front of a model of a razor-backed apple tree with giant, gleaming tusks.
“These... were bad apples... and they all vanished from the food chain for one single reason. They refused to be food!”
Professor Applejack gestures towards a majestic painting of a regular apple tree with a halo, lovingly cradling two foals and a lamb in its branches while sunlight parts a storm over a valley in the background.
“But not our apple tree. No... our apple is an awesome apple. It reigns on heaven and earth with wisdom power and love. Our apple is an awesome apple!”
She holds two fetlocks together, gazing heavenward with an angelic expression.
“Yellow, brown, black or white—our appetites are quenched in its sight.”
She smiles at the camera again with a sagely smile.
“And the thing about apples is that they're delicious whether you believe in them or not!”
She holds a hoof out towards us.
“But I know that some of y'all... heck... a whole heck of a lot of y'all dun know a thang about apples. So it is the purpose of this program to educate you on all things to do with the greatest fruit that ever did descend from the loom!”
Her eyes take on a brief, vicious glint as her voice hisses through clenched teeth.
“Especially in such a dark political age full of backwards pomaceous-deniers...”
A twitch, and she springs back to a freckled smile. “...it's important for us to give back in respect tenfold what apples have given to our whizz-banger of a civilization all these years! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeehaaa! So!”
She approaches a desk and sits down in a bright brown upholstered chair, waving towards a stack of envelopes resting between her and the camera.
“I figured that the best way to do so would be to open discourse with y'all... the wonderful viewin' audience. We sent out a heapin' load of invitations... and already we've gotten a mighty fine bushel of honest questions to answer. So... without much further fritterin' around...”
A good-natured chuckle, and she hugs one knee to herself with a cheeky grin.
“Let's get to edumacatin' the whole lotta you. Startin' with...”