//------------------------------//
// Brumby_Run's Scavenger Chic (Estee's "Discontinued") 
// Story: Never the Final Word (Vol. 2) 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

Applejack took a deep breath, knowing she'd dread the answer. Still, the question had to be asked. “Rarity, what are you doing in my barn?”

Rarity looked up from a collection of tools and supplies Applejack had never expected to see her anywhere near. “Oh, darling. It’s amazing. I have devised a three step process to replicate my missing hoof polish! You see, as you use your spinning whetstone it grinds away the iron of your tools. But your tools also wear at the stone. Combined with the water used to keep the stone and tool cool, it forms a slurry of the most fabulous consistency. It is nearly ideal for removing  imperfections in the keratin of my hooves!”

“Uh-huh...”

“The problem is that the particles of iron rust." Rarity pouted at the general idea of metal oxidation. "Any that are left behind leave an unpleasant discolouration. So they have to be removed." She hefted a familiar can in her magic. "Your axle grease not only provides mechanical lubrication, but will trap the fine rust particles in itself. The tiniest smear is enough to remove them all.”

Applejack kept nodding. She wasn't sure what she might do if she stopped. “... Right.”

“All that is left to do is remove the grease." Up went a pail. "Darling, limestone has been an additive to soap for as long as there has been soap. It is also in those tins of whitewash. Dabbing it on lifts the grease, for easy removal with a plain water rinse before it has the opportunity to dry." Rarity all but pranced up to Applejack, beaming. "The results are truly marvelous. I don’t recall my hooves ever  looking so good. See for yourself!” She held out a forehoof for inspection.

Applejack shrugged. It looked normal to her. Normal for Rarity, which she supposed meant this was about the right amount of effort to get there. “Ah guess ‘ah can’t argue with the results." She narrowed her eyes. "So, are ya willing to trade for the stuff you’ve used?”

Rarity tossed her mane, taking visible pleasure in doing so. “But of course, dear. Just name your price!”

“Well, you can start by sharpening the blade of the plough. Then the market cart needs the axles greasin'. And finally, the window trims on the ground floor of the homestead need a lick of whitewash." Applejack shrugged and smiled. "Seems fair ta me...”

“But, darling," said Rarity, drawing back in horror. "All that manual labour will ruin the finish on my hooves!”

Not for the first time or the last, Applejack envied Spike's ability to pinch the bridge of his snout. “Rarity? I love you like kin. An’ that’s the only reason I ain’t kicking you in the snout right now. Get outta my barn.”