I stared down the line of ponies as they walked up, bought apples or cider and moved along as the next pony repeated what they did.
Easy enough to just manage the bits as they paid me. Drop ‘em in a bag, hoof them the apples, repeat.
Then stuff got mighty weird as the clouds changed color, turning pink and raining down chocolate on everything.
This weren’t nothing exciting to Ponyville, an’ I just shrugged it off and continued moving the line along, though maybe I shoulda payed more attention to it.
Next thing I knew, next customer had leaves in their coat as they took root in front’ of the farm, an’ the rest in line started changing too, from turning ‘ta Zebras, to popping off limbs.
Things got fuzzy af’er that, but I remember a lott’a barking.
But that’s jus’ life on a Ponyville farm, I guess. Eeeyup.