I had a free afternoon to myself this Tuesday. The farm was actually pretty quiet for a change. Applejack wasn’t teaching at the school today, we were ahead on all our chores, Apple Bloom and her friends even found their own workload lighter than usual this week. We all just had time for once to relax. It was as if all of Equestria was taking a couple days off. In Ponyville, the mayoral elections had finished, with Mayor Mare winning once again by a fairly hefty landslide. In Canterlot, the court had risen and a blue green lantern now hung from the highest tower, indicating as such. The weather for the next week was clear skies, leaving the weather factory in Cloudsdale and the local patrol with little to do. All in all, things were quiet.
I actually found myself feeling a little bored and had gone to borrow a few books from Twilight’s library. As a princess and scholar, she’s first to get her hooves on anything new in print. She actually had something rather interesting for me.
Remember Stygian? He was one of the former Pillars of Equestria. While not a pillar in the true sense of the word, he was a very important member of their group, coming up with plans to help defeat the foes the ancient heroes faced. He’d made an ill-fated attempt to augment his magic, which had set in motion a series of events that resulted in him being almost entirely consumed by the Pony of Shadows.
However, that was all behind him now. He had reconciled with his old friends, having been freed from the entity by the combined efforts of the elements and the pillars. As is the case with most ex-villains, he’d reformed and had like the other pillars, done his best to reintegrate into society a thousand years later. To his credit, he’d actually been quite successful, and had become a published author. Written partly as an autobiography, partly as a history text, and partly as a study of almost forgotten magic, Stygian had created a best selling book that had positively flown off the shelves.
I could identify with Stygian quite a bit. I too had made attempts to meddle in things that ought not to be meddled with. And while my heart may have been in the right place, it had ultimately threatened to lead me down the same dark path. He was an intellectual, not physically strong or imposing, nor particularly gifted when it came to magic, but a genius nonetheless. The Pillars of Equestria would certainly have been lost without him.
It was this account that I now found myself reading as I sat on a sofa in the Apples’ front room. He certainly had some interesting ideas, several of which had actually grown from theory to fact in his absence. Chief among these was the use of certain artifacts to augment one’s own magic.
Now, you might think ‘Alicorn Amulet’ upon reading that. But not all artifacts are evil with potentially world ending properties. The theory itself is quite useful. An object can be imbued with magic to act as a sort of battery, storing magic in the same way a living being does. You see, a unicorn’s power is determined by how much magic they can hold in their reserves, as well as their skill in using it. For an alicorn, this reserve is extremely large, allowing them to cast spells that would completely exhaust a normal unicorn. In unicorns like Stygian or Sunburst, this reserve was much smaller, meaning that while they may understand the theory of casting a spell, they lacked the raw power to do it.
To offset that disadvantage, Stygian proposed this idea of using certain objects as a battery. A more modern example of this would be the Equestrian Education Association medallion. Chancellor Neighsay may be many things, but at the end of the day, he is just a unicorn, and does not have enough power in his own right to frequently cast portal spells. So instead, he uses his EEA amulet to cast high level spells, occasionally topping it up with his own reserves, which regenerate over time. Think of it like a savings account, with you putting a portion of your pay packet in each month.
It was a fascinating idea, and reading on, it didn’t seem that difficult either. More times that I’ve cared to admit, my research has been hindered by a lack of power on my part. While I may have slightly above average magical power, I’m a long way from Starlight or Twilight. As a result, there are plenty of perfectly benign spells that I would love to try out that are entirely beyond my reach. This however would help overcome that.
It also could potentially help with an issue I’ve been wrestling with for an age, overcoming the effect of something or someone draining magic. It has happened twice now; once when Tirek got loose, and again during the Storm King’s invasion of Canterlot. Neither time was there a way to counter or overcome the spell. Having a magically charged object however, could offer some form of protection, like hiding some extra cash off shore to dodge taxes.
So, seeing as I had little else to do today, I decided to set myself the creation of a magical object as my newest project.
Applejack, having heard my idea, and being equally bored given how quiet everything was today, decided to follow me upstairs to see me work on my latest project. Obviously, the first thing I needed was an object to use. It needed to be something fairly small to be practical, and the size of the object had little bearing on how much magic it could hold; that was determined by its composition. According to Stygian’s own research metals such as brass and silver were the most suitable, while still being easy enough to acquire.
I had a good idea of what I could use, and saw it as being quite apt too. You see, when the rift opened up for the last time, before it was sealed off a couple of years ago, all sorts of stuff from Earth came flying through. Because it was so unstable, and the exit point wasn’t fixed, it picked up all sorts. On the one hoof it picked up a few of our personal possessions, one of which I would be using in a moment, it also picked up all sorts of flotsam and jetsam, most of which had been given to Twilight and then sold off to anypony who was interested.
Walking upstairs, with Applejack following, I made my way into my room. The things I was looking for was kept in its case in my desk, under lock and key due to its sentimental and very tangible value.
Fishing out the key, I opened up the desk and took out a small box; the sort of thing you might have kept a pocket watch in in days gone by. Setting it on the desk, I opened it up for AJ to see.
It was a medal; my grandfather’s to be precise. Most of the family on my mother’s side served during the last world war. My one great uncle was in the South Staffs, that is, the South Staffordshire Regiment, the other had been what we’d now call a Para and had been one of the few men to escape from Arnhem during Operation Market Garden when the Yanks bottled it and left both the British and their Polish allies high and dry.
My grandfather though, had been too young when the war started, and only came of age after the end of hostilities, doing his national service in the peacetime British Army of the Rhine at Hanover with the Royal Engineers. But while he was too young to go into the army, he was eligible in 1941 to join what was originally called the Local Defence Volunteers, more commonly known, with great affection, as the Home Guard, in reality a laughable ragtag group of old men and young boys who would form the last desperate defence of the mother country, had the church bells ever started ringing.
Anyway, the point of all that is that, after the war, he and his fellow volunteers were all given a special medal for their services; the Defence Medal, which was awarded to all sorts of people who served on the home front, Home Guard, ARP, ambulance drivers and so on. When he’d died a few years before we came to Equestria, he’d bequeathed it to me, and I was very glad to find it that day when the rift reopened. It was my one reminder of him.
Picking it up, I showed the medal, or gong, to AJ, and explained what it was for. The medal itself was silver, with an image of King George VI on one side and on the other was a crown guarded by two lions, with the words ‘The Defence Medal’ embossed on. The ribbon meanwhile was a mixture of green, black and red stripes.
“So, what, you’re gonna fill this up with magic?” Applejack asked. I nodded. AJ may not know too much about magic, but she’s picked up a fair bit from me, just as I’ve learnt quite a bit about farming from her.
“Yep,” I replied. “From what Stygian wrote here.” I held up the book in question in my magic. “Silver is great for holding magical energy without it depleting too much over time.”
Like any battery, this wouldn’t store magic indefinitely. Outside of a pony or other magical creature, magic naturally dissipates back into the environment. However, silver was supposed to last anywhere from six months to a year without too much drop off, and it was easy enough to top up. The hard part would be this; charging it up for the first time. It would take a fair chunk of my magic to do that. Still, I could then use it whenever I needed it, be that for research, or in time of emergency. I turned to my marefriend.
“Okay, AJ,” I said, preparing myself. “Just hold it up for me, and Ah’ll see about chargin’ it up.”
Applejack complied, holding the medal by its ribbon in her hoof, the silver medallion dangling down, glinting in the sunlight. It had seen better days, but I’d done my best to keep the decoration in decent condition.
Charging up my magic, I prepared the first part of the spell. You couldn’t just hit any random object with magic. All that would accomplish is that you would eventually destroy it. Before the medal could actually store magic, never mind direct it in any meaningful way, it needed to be set up as such. Think of it like making a USB bootable instead of just having it hold data.
Double checking the glyphs in Stygian’s book to be sure, I set to work, firing a brief blast of magic at the medal. I didn’t expect there to be much effect, but to my surprise, in contrast to its earlier appearance, it now shone and sparkled as if it had been struck only the day before. Every now and again, small arcs of magical energy flittered across the silver surface, making it glisten even more. Evidently the first part of the spell had worked.
“Wow! Nice work, Bones,” Applejack exclaimed in amazement. “The thing looks almost brand new.” I nodded in agreement.
“Must be somethin’ to do with the magical energy, Ah guess,” I replied.
Now came the more difficult part, actually putting magic into the medal. The act would leave me feeling pretty drained for at least a day or so while my natural reserves recovered. Strictly speaking, you can’t ‘run out’ of magic, in that it isn’t a finite resource. However, excessive use, such as the Unicorn Council raising the sun and moon, could leave a pony’s reserves so exhausted that they would never recover. So I planned on being very careful. After this, it would just be a case of topping it up every now and then as needed.
“Okay, AJ,” I said as I readied myself. “Ah’m gonna start puttin’ magic in now. So hold on.”
Planting my hooves squarely on the ground, I powered up my horn and began to pour magic into the medal. Sending magic somewhere isn’t painful at all, as long as it is done willingly. Taking magic from a pony is a particularly painful experience, and not one I care to repeat. I kept the flow of magic fairly steady, but could nonetheless feel my strength ebbing away. All in all, I probably only kept up for about fifteen seconds, but that’s a long time when it comes to something like that.
When I was finished, I felt tired. It wasn’t too bad, but I figured I’d probably gone through about three quarters of what I had. I felt a lot like what Twilight probably felt after her long fight with Starlight through time and space. Still, it wasn’t too bad. I was still steady on my hooves, and I still had enough magic to work with. The only real issue was the feeling of tiredness.
Now all that remained was to test it out. Sitting down on my rump, since standing was actually now a little difficult, I motioned for AJ to come over, and I took the medal from her hooves, using my own instead of my magic. I’d need to ration my usage for the next day or so.
All that remained now was to test it. A simple levitation spell would suffice as a first test. Activating my magic, I focused not on myself, but on the medal that now rested on my hoof. After a moment of concentration, it began to glow with the same blue aura that would surround my horn. The rest was simple. I was able to easily levitated the book I’d been reading just as easily as I would normally, albeit with some small delay. I smiled.
“Well, it works, AJ,” I said proudly. “And once Ah get my strength back, Ah should be able to cast spells that used to be out of reach. Looks like Stygian was really onto something.”
“So now what?” Applejack asked curiously. I shrugged my withers.
“Ah’ll go and see Twilight tomorrow,” I explained. “She might be interested in this. Heck, in theory, this magic could help protect us in the future; stopping or at least limiting anycreature that tries to steal magic from ponies.”
There was one last thing I did though, before I put my grandfather’s medal away again. Unlike the Storm King’s staff, this could only be used by a unicorn, alicorn or other creature with the ability to directly project magic. That still meant a lot of ponies and other creatures, if they got their hooves on this, could end up doing some real damage, potentially augmenting my magic with their own. So, just to be safe, I applied a spell similar to the identification spell I’d applied to FOXDIE. It would only work for me, and nopony else.
The next day, I planned to go and visit Twilight to show her what I’d managed to accomplish. However, before I could get to that, there was work to do. Yesterday might have been quiet enough, but today was just the opposite, and it was a case of all hooves on deck.
Sweet Apple Acres has many crops besides apples. In addition to its namesake, the farm has peach trees, cherry trees, corn fields, carrots, potatoes and other root vegetables, as well as pasture used for grazing by the local cattle, who also provided us with milk in exchange.
Today though didn’t involve any of those. Instead, I found myself working on the chicken coop, with the unenviable task of cleaning it out. People say pigs are filthy animals, but they at least have the decency to go and do their business in the corner, chickens are in no such way inclined. As a result, the coop now absolutely stank something terrible, and I was stuck scraping it all out, before putting in fresh bedding into the nest boxes. For once in my life, I regretted have my improved equine sense of smell. The heat didn’t help either, while flies buzzed around my head, occasionally landing on my back until I shooed them away with a flick of my tail. Still, at least I had the luxury of using my magic to hold the trowel instead of my hooves.
As I leaned in to get the the nest boxes right at the back, I felt my hat snag on something. I tried to be careful, but to my dismay, as I backed out into the sunlight again, I heard something rip. Scowling, I took of my treasured headgear and took a look. My dark brown stetson, a gift from AJ that is slightly darker than her own, holds a great deal of sentimental value, and the idea of it being damaged was actually a little upsetting.
“Dagnabbit,” I exclaimed crossly as I turned the hat over in my hooves.
Luckily, the damage was minor enough. The felt of the hat was undamaged. The ripping I’d heard was actually the stitching of the faux leather band partly coming away. Inspecting the chicken coop, I found a protruding nail head; the most likely culprit. It must have snagged on the hat as I leaned in.
Satisfied that it was nothing serious, I still decided that I ought to get it fixed. Little damages like that can easily turn into major problems quite easily, and I would hate to loose this hat. As I said, I treasure it almost as much as AJ cherishes her late father’s hat, which she’s worn almost all her life.
There was one obvious solution, and that was to pay call on Ponyville’s resident seamstress; Rarity. She may be well on her way to being a fashion magnate these days, with stores in both Canterlot and Manehattan, but she’s almost always willing to take on little repair jobs. Between you and me, I know for a fact she’s even repaired Smartie Pants for Big Mac once or twice. So I would drop by Carousel Boutique on my way to see Twilight.
Of course, before I did that, I headed back to the farmhouse and took a brief shower. Rarity may be the Element of Generosity, but I think I’d rather be pushing my luck if I turned up in her store smelling chicken guano. So, after I’d finished my work and put down fresh straw in all the nest boxes, I headed back inside the farmhouse and took a short shower. My mane was getting a little long too I noticed. Maybe I should head to the spa sometime next week for a spot of general maintenance?
With that done, I quickly dried myself off, threw on my damaged stetson hat and headed out to Ponyville. AJ was looking after the market stall today, so maybe I could go and say hi to her on my way back.
I don’t go to Carousel Boutique all that often. Actually, as I walked down the road, it dawned on me that it had been an age since I’d seen Rarity. While our interests may not always line up, we are fairly good friends. I even ended up taking her up to Canterlot once and ended up as her plus one at a swanky black tie reception. And, if nothing else, she was the one who first prodded me with the idea that Applejack might like me.
Well, actually, as I recall, she smacked my across the face and called me an idiot. But hey, she did sort of have a point.
Reaching the familiar store, I pushed open the door, causing the bell above to jingle slightly as it opened and closed. Inside, I found pretty much what you’d expect from somepony in Rarity’s line of work. I felt just a touch out of place in my old stetson. While Rarity has never forgotten her Ponyville roots, she does now rub shoulders with more than a few ponies in high society. I on the other hoof, hail decidedly from working class, with my parents being the first to move up the chain a little.
“Hello? Rarity?” I called out. Curiously, there was no sign of her. Usually, when a customer walked into the shop, she’d come trotting out of her work room to greet them and introduce herself.
On this occasion though, I got no response. So, I went in search of her. I may be a customer, but as Rarity’s friend, I felt I had a small amount of leeway when it came to wandering into the back areas of the shop. I figured she was most likely in her work room, engrossed in some new design for the latest season.
I was just about to open the door when it flew open and Rarity herself came trotting out. At first I assumed she had heard me come in, but had just been busy in the back or something. That assessment lasted right up until she started speaking. Well, when I say speaking…
“Darling!” she exclaimed in a voice that almost rivalled the Royal Canterlot Voice. “It’s so lovely to see you again!” Slightly taken aback by her bellowing, I waited for the ringing in my ears to stop before replying.
“Er, thanks, Rarity,” I said, at a more normal volume. “It’s nice to see y’all too.” Rarity however, tilted her head in confusion.
“Why in Equestria are you muttering, Blade Star?!” she asked, still screeching like a banshee. “Really, a gentlecolt like yourself should know how to speak properly.” Slightly annoyed by the jab, I upped my volume.
“Ah’m not mutterin’, Rarity!” I shot back. “Y’all are then one shoutin’ like an Englishman trying to talk to somepony from Europe!”
“Whatever do you mean?!” I rolled my eyes.
“Ah mean you’re shoutin’ something fierce!” I exclaimed. “Are y’all okay?” Rarity waved a hoof but didn’t lower the volume.
“Oh absolutely fabulous, darling!” she replied. “I’ve spent all morning working on this new design incorporating phoenix feathers.” Ah, that might explain things.
“Did ya wear gloves when ya touched them?” I asked, still shouting so she could hear me.
“No! Why?!” she hollered back. I let out a, to her, quiet laugh.
“Contact with phoenix feathers can make a pony temporarily deaf!” I explained.
“I’m not deaf, darling!” Rarity retorted hotly. “My hearing’s just fine! Anyway, what is it you wanted?!” Oh for the love of Celestia! Better to just get my order in and hope I don’t end up with repairs done to a mat.
“Can ya mend the stitching on my stetson?” I asked, holding up the hat for emphasis. Rarity activated her magic and quickly took if off me to examine.
“Of course, darling!” she replied. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
You know, I’m honestly not sure if I prefer this, or sitting through taking high tea with her. Still, at least her lack of hearing wouldn’t stop her from doing her work. I made a mental note to stop in to see Zecora if she had her stall set up in the market. She probably had some cure for Rarity’s ailment. I left the fashionista to her work, saying I’d stop by tomorrow to pick it up.
Leaving Rarity’s store, I found myself feeling a little uncomfortable. I’d worn that Stetson day in and day out for a couple years now. I’d gotten used to it sitting on top of my heat, feeling the felt brushing against my ears, and looking up and seeing the brim cut off the skyline. Now, I felt...almost naked I suppose, without it. It felt weird, like having your braces taken off for the first time, or riding your bike without stabilisers. There was nothing inherently wrong, it just felt different.
Shaking my head, I did my best to set aside the odd emotions that seemed to be connected to my hat and headed for Twilight’s castle. I was rather keen to show her magical artifact that I’d managed to create in my grandfather’s old medal, and I was planning on encouraging her to do the same. It certainly would have paid dividends when she was stuck in that cage, courtesy of the Storm King, and it might have saved everypony a lot of bother a few months in the future too. But hey, hindsight is twenty twenty as I always say.
Leaving Carousel Boutique behind, I followed the familiar path to Twilight’s castle. Ponyville was a little busier these days, what with the school and everything. The school in particular has brought in its fair share of tourists from all over the shop. There was supposedly a group going around the school right now. It certainly explained the increased foot traffic.
Heading for the castle, I took a moment to take a look at the latest addition to Ponyville’s skyline. It was as if Harry Potter and MLP had been involved in a car crash, but in a good way. The building was a lot like the castle, mainly due to the entity that played a part in building it. Heading up the steps, I opened the front door and stepped into the map room. Honestly, Shining’s told her, I’ve told her, and even Spike has told her; Twilight needs to remember to lock the front doors of this place. She’s just as bad with the school. I couldn’t help but worry when I heard that a bunch of important magical objects were being imported from the Canterlot archives either.
The low security however, was the least of my worries, as I found out about one nanosecond after I stepped inside.
“Gah! Sweet Celestia!” I exclaimed, putting a hoof to my nose to try and block it off.
Twilight has many faults, but poor personal hygiene is not among them. Even in her most intense study sessions, she usually remembers to take a bath one in a while. But at the moment, the castle stank something horrid. It was like somepony had mixed all the worst smells in the world together. There was B.O, sour milk, rotten eggs, burnt hair, decomposition, and I think a slight whiff of a bad yeast infection. Long story short, it took all my sheer force of will not to chuck my guts up all over the alicorn’s nice crystal floor (although I suppose easier clean up is an advantage of crystal over carpet, still I don’t think it justifies the price). Staggering back outside, I got a lungful of fresh, clean air before trying again. Even breathing through my mouth didn’t take away the awful stench. Despite that though, I wanted to find Twilight. If anything, I needed to see if she was still with us or if she’d finally snapped and started chopping ponies up in her basement.
So, doing my best not to breathe any more than I needed to stay conscious, I made my way further into the castle. If anything, as I made my way toward the library, the stench became even worse. I was seriously contemplating turning around and calling in a Hazmat team. Eventually, I reached the library door. Pushing it open, I was hit with a fresh wave of stink and once again nearly lost my lunch. Still, I managed to keep the British end up and kept everything down.
“Urgh! Twilight?” I called out, instantly regretting my action as the foul smell hit my tongue. “Are you in here?” I heard the patter of feet on the crystal floor, and a moment later, Spike appeared.
“Oh, hi there, Blade Star,” he said. The little dragon was seemingly unaffected, but took note when he saw my green face. Curiously, he blushed.
“Erm...sorry,” he said meekly. My eyes now streaming, I replied.
“Sorry for what?” I was then briefly overcome with a coughing fit.
“The smell,” he explained. “It’s...well...me.”
“You?” I exclaimed. “How? What did you do, roll around in a dump or somethin’?” Spike shook his head.
It was then that I noticed it. Spike seemed to be covered in small blotches. Some had scabbed over with scales a shade darker than his usual ones, others were still ugly, puss filled boils. He certainly didn’t look comfortable.
“I’m moulting,” he explained. “I’ve got stone scales all over me, I can’t always control how loud my voice gets, and I smell like changeling goo mixed with swamp water.” Irritably, he scratched at his cheek.
My initial disgust softened. While the smell was still vile, I couldn’t really be mad at Spike. Obviously it wasn’t something he could readily control. I figured this moult was something along the lines of puberty for dragons. While we may be more friendly with our fire breathing cousins now, thanks to Dragon Lord Ember, there’s still quite a bit we don’t know about them, certainly in terms of physiology.
As he tried to get the itching under control, Spike passed me a face mask to put on. I gratefully took it. While it didn’t block the stench out entirely, it went a long way to making it bearable.
“Oh, Ah’m sorry, Spike,” I said as I fasted the mask to my face. “If it’s any consolation, Ah kinda know how ya feel. Ah went through somethin’ similar myself not so long ago.” Spike looked at me curiously.
“What, do humans moult?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Sort of, although we call it puberty. Some of it’s similar though. Ah remember when Ah was in school Ah ended up with my face covered in zits, kinda like those stone scales, and just as embarrassing too. My voice got deeper eventually, but for weeks I sounded really dumb and it kept cracking all the time like Sweetie Belle’s does when she gets mad. And, while it ain’t got nothin’ on your particular...erm...musk, if Ah didn’t keep on top of it, Ah ended up smelling something foul as well.”
“What did you do about it?” Spike asked, as he went back to shelving books in an effort to keep his mind off the itching.
“Not much ya can do Spike, except wait for it to be over. It’s only temporary. Eventually your scales will heal up, your voice will stabilise and you should stop smelling so much. It’s an important part of growin’ up.”
“So what, I’m stuck like this for ages?” Spike asked forlornly. I shook my head.
“Actually, probably not as long as Ah was, Spike,” I replied encouragingly. “Ah don’t know loads about dragons, but your reptiles, and they tend to go through these things pretty quick like.” Strangely, instead of making him feel better, Spike seemed to become even more despondent, letting out a sad sigh.
“What’s wrong, Spike?” I asked. “Ah figured you’d be happy that this thing will be over soon enough.” Spike looked up at me sadly.
“I talked to Smoulder about it, what with her being a dragon and all. And she says that when a dragon moults, their family kicks them out to start life on their own.” I tried not to roll my eyes. Trust Spike to make a mountain out of a molehill.
“Spike,” I said kindly. “Do y’all honestly think that Twilight, in a million years, would kick you out of the castle?” Spike thought. “Trust me, buddy, ya ain’t goin’ anywhere unless ya want to.” Still, Spike seemed a little lost in thought.
I considered pressing on further, but soon realised that it probably wouldn’t do any good. This was something Spike needed to figure out on his own. Plus, as I said before, I’m not exactly an expert on dragons, and the last thing I wanted to do was give him bad or wrong advice. The little drake obviously needed to do some soul searching. He’s spent his whole life living among ponies, but now his dragon nature was asserting itself. And the last time that happened the results had been decidedly unfortunate.
This was something for him to work out on his own, with maybe some support from Twilight. As Luna has told me time and time again, I am not the centre of the universe, and it isn’t my job to fix every issue and save the day. Still, that didn’t stop me from being Spike’s friend.
Steeling myself and holding my breath, I leaned down and briefly hugged the little dragon, who quickly hugged back.
“It’ll all come right in the end, Spike,” I said quietly. “Just y’all wait and see.”
I turned to leave, briefly forgetting the original purpose of my visit. Luckily, it jumped back into my mind as I reached the doorway.
“Oh, Spike,” I said. “Could ya let Twilight know Ah stopped by. Ah’ve got an idea Ah’d like to show her.”
Spike promised to let Twilight know when she got back. Unsurprisingly, she was looking for ways to help her adoptive little brother/son too. With that, I headed back outside.
The town was quieter on my way back. In hindsight, I think that was rather fortunate. You see, I made the unfortunate mistake of forgetting Locard’s principle; every contact leaves a trace. I guess I’d been in there long enough to get vaguely acclimatised to the smell. When I got back to Sweet Apple Acres I was in for a nasty shock.
Opening the door, I found Applejack and Big Mac in the kitchen, doing a spot of cleaning. As soon as I walked in, both their faces went green.
“Aww land sakes, Bones!” Applejack exclaimed, her voice a little higher as she covered her nose. “Ah know y’all have been cleanin’ out the hen house, but please, for pony’s sake, go and take a bath!”