//------------------------------//
// Just Eat Some Dirt 
// Story: My Little Pony, My Little Pony, and Me 317: Hello, Humans! 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

“Alright, fine, next question,” Juice said.


	Dear brothers,
My husband and I have made plans to visit some relatives in the country next month for an extended stay while our apartment is fumigated. All of us are earth ponies, but my husband and I have spent our entire lives in Manehattan. I want for the two of us to be able to connect with our rural relatives, as well as our earth pony roots. What should we do?
Sincerely,
V. Orange.


“Now -- boys, for the new listeners, I feel like we should say that all three of us are, in fact, earth ponies,” Ditto said. “Which, I will say this, does make it a little harder to advise the other pony races on certain matters of wing and horn, as well as advising nonpony species on certain other traits which the three of us do not share with them.”
“Yeah, we’re considering maybe franchising,” Juice said. “Getting a few more locations to send specific queries to. Interested parties of brothers can send their applications to P.O. box 153 in Hoofington, Equestria.”
“Yeah,” Ditto said. “But--”
“Parties of sisters can also apply,” Scraps added. “Or siblings that are of other genders, or mixed-gender sets.”
“Yeah, we don’t discriminate based on gender. You just have to be siblings, and there have to be three of you, and you have to be all one-hundo percent ridiculous goof-clowns,” Ditto said. “But as I was saying, although we aren’t qualified to answer all questions for all species, I can say that we try our best to avoid bias by answering all questions in the dumbest possible way. Now, with that in mind. Boys. We were raised in the Appalachians. We’re good ol’ country boys.”
“Ditto, you and Juice are video game journalists --” Scraps said. 
Ditto frowned at him. “Scraaaaps. You gotta come and play with me in this question. You gotta come play in this space!”
“Well, okay, I was just pointing out --”
“No!” Ditto said. “No, it’s rude to point, Scrapsy. It’s rude. Come play with me in this space and tell me what you, as a good ol’ country boy think that this, uh, city slicker, should do to get back in touch with her roots!” 
Scraps exhaled through his nostrils. “Well,” he said. “I think the first thing you really gotta do is eat some dirt.”
“Okay,” Ditto said.
“Oh-kay,” Juice agreed, nodding. “Now, Scraps, what’s your favorite way to eat some of that dirt?”
“Well, Juice, I’m very glad you asked,” Scraps said. “Obviously, you can’t go wrong with a good old-fashioned mud pie.”
“Obviously.”
“Of course, yes.”
“Now, having said that, my personal preference runs more toward dirt cakes,” Scraps continued. “These are easily distinguished, as they are drier than mud pies, and more sweet, not quite as savory. They’re best when accompanied by some fresh grass, and maybe a dandelion. Overall though, I don’t think I can say more for a good, simple taste of country livin’ than a nice, fresh spoonful of loose soil, eaten straight.”
“Hey, uh, opinions on worms in your dirt, boys?” Juice asked.
“Love ‘em,” Ditto said immediately. “Mama Nature’s Spaghetti, that’s what I call dirt -- shit, I meant worms. I call dirt The Good Brown Stuff.”
“Mm, I can take ‘em or leave em,” Scraps said. “Like I said, I go for sweet over savory.”
“It’s interesting that you mention worms in the context of spaghetti, Ditto, because that is exactly where I was going with that,” Juice said. “A nice plate of worms served al dente in a nice brown sauce, served with dirtballs and topped with shaved tree bark.”
“Oh yeah, gotta love that bark,” Scraps agreed.
“Now, boys, I love what you’re doing with this bit, but we gotta consider, this question asker has spent her entire life in the city. She’s upper-crust. She’s highfalutin.”
“Sure as shootin', she’s highfalutin!” Scraps threw in.
“Exactly what a pony like this would never say, thank you for that excellent example.”
Juice tilted his head back. “So what exactly are you proposing, Dit?”
“We gotta think a little bit higher class in our recipes! We gotta shoot for the upper crust instead of just the crumbs!”
“Moonshine champagne,” Scraps said immediately.
“Well, that’s good,” Ditto allowed. “Not a lot of dirt in that one, though.”
“Oh, you can put dirt in moonshine,” Scraps said. “Worms, too. Anything can go in moonshine if you try hard enough.”
“What about crawdads?” Juice proposed. “They’re like a fancy lobster dinner, but smaller and dirtier.”
“Again, not a lot of dirt in that one!” Ditto said, shaking his head.
“Au contraire, oh brother my brother!” Scraps said. “By certain ponies in this country, including my own daughter, crawdaddies are known as ‘mudbugs’.”
“That’s mud and bugs,” Juice said, raising a hoof in vindication.
“Well. It’s not. It’s not actually either of those things,” Ditto said.
“Y’know, I had never really thought about lobsters in the terms of them just being big crawdaddies before, but now that I am? Really kinda weird that ponies eat them,” Scraps said, rubbing his chin.
“Well, most ponies don’t,” Juice said. “Only the fancy ponies, which, now that I say that? Makes it kinda even weirder. It’s like… eating a fish dinner. That’s normal. That’s protein. But now the fish has armor and it crawls around and looks basically like a big sea bug, and I’m supposed to believe that’s more fancy?”
“I think it’s from Griffonstan,” Scraps mused. “So maybe eating crawdads is a better way to get back in touch with your roots as a griffon.”
“Well, let’s keep it in anyway,” Juice said. “This is about baby steps for fancy city ponies.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“So that’s the seafood course and the booze taken care of,” Ditto said. “Soup can be a nice, uh, soupe de saleté avec des morceaux --”
“Sorry?” Juice asked. “Come again?”
“Dirt soup with chunks.”
“How the fuck did you know that off the top of your head?”
“While you two were busy talking about dumb stuff that wasn’t even relevant to our menu plan, I got up, checked the Equestrian to Fancy dictionary, and sat back down again.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Salad course?” Scraps put in. “I mean, that practically takes care of itself, you just don’t wash your veggies.”
“Yeah,” Ditto said. “Uh, you don’t wanna do too many courses, this is about simplifying all your shit.”
“We do still need a main course, though,” Juice said.
“Oh, yeah.”
All three considered that for a long moment. “Worm pasta,” Scraps said at last. “Not worm spaghetti. Maybe um…”
“Wormicelli,” Juice said.
“Wormicelli! In a, uh… green sauce.”
Ditto grimaced. “What - what’s the green sauce made of, Scrappy?”
“...Lichen,” Scraps decided. “You still got the shredded bark on top, though.”
“Yeah, some things transcend class,” Ditto agreed. “I think that just leaves dessert.”
“Mud petit-fours,” Juice said firmly. “Gotta be.”
Scraps nodded. “Alright! I think that’s our menu, then!”
“Yeah, eat that for dinner for a few weeks, and then maybe you can move onto step two,” Ditto said.
“Which is?” Juice asked.
Ditto laughed, just once. “Oh. They’ll know, when the time is right.”
“Yeah, Juice, we can’t just give away the Great Earth Pony rituals live on air,” Scraps said, disapproving.
“Oh -- no, no, of course, you’re right,” Juice said. “Yeah. Don’t wanna tell just anypony about the Order of Bud and Branch--”
“Juice!” Ditto said.
“Oh, yup, right, I’m sorry, not a single word more about the Gaean Mysteries will pass my lips --”
“Juice, no!” Scraps said. “I’ll take away your mike!”
“Okay, okay.”
Juice lapsed into silence for several seconds. “C’mon baby,” Ditto muttered. “Comedy rule of threes.”
“I know, I know, I’m thinking,” Juice muttered back. “Gah, all I can think of is how weird the Tree Altar looks --”
“JUICE, NO!”
Both Scraps and Ditto tackled their eldest brother. "Scraps! Scraps, I'll hold him down, you take us--"
"Yup! Yup!" Scraps hauled himself back up to the microphones. "Let's go to the Money Zone!"