//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4: The Grumbling Brothers 
// Story: A Dodgy Business 
// by MLP-Silver-Quill 
//------------------------------//

	“I take it back.” said Clutterstep while squeezing past two frontier ponies. “I totally launched that trunk on purpose, and I’m awesome.” 
“Now, don’t go counting your apples before they’re ripe.” Applejack ducked under a parasol that would have given her a black eye. The whole of Dodge Junction was out in force to see the wagon arrive. Her mane brushed against an earth pony still fresh from the barbershop and wiped a trail of shaving cream from his chin. 
Ms. Jubilee was somewhere ahead, having gone with the sheriff to identify the tree trunk. Big Macintosh didn’t want to force his way through the crowd, so he was stuck at the back while Applejack chased Clutterstep through the packed ponies. 
“We shouldn’t be wasting our time.” Applejack huffed. “Them cherry trees ain’t gonna pick themselves.”
“Oh, come on!” Clutterstep tried to dart around a mare from the dress shop and ended up plowing into a stagecoach stallion. The burlier pony shoved him away. “Sorry! Anyway, this could solve all our problems! 50,0000 bits isn’t chump change.”
Applejack shook her head while waiting for a pair of colts to dart past. “Hoping for a quick fix ain’t the earth pony way.”
Clutterstep stopped so fast Applejack had to rear back to avoid colliding.
“And I wouldn’t know anything about being an earth pony, would I?”
Applejack had to think a second to make sure she’d heard that tone from the same pony. Skirting around, she caught a glimpse of Clutterstep’s face. It was stone-hard, completely missing that goofy smile she’d seen when he stumbled out of that cherry tree. 
“Clutter?” He turned and vanished into the crowd. 
Suddenly on her own, Applejack felt like a right fool. Shoulda stayed on the farm. 
The crowd quieted at the creek of a wagon wheel. Sheriff Lucky Roll and his boys were coming up, six pulling the wagon with Ms. Jubilee keeping a healthy distance. Applejack couldn’t blame her, what with the wagon’s contents. 
The Grumble Brothers were as big as Manticores and muscled thick as apple trees. A pony could bind a dragon with the lengths of chain the sheriff’s deputies had wrapped around the pair. Even then, Applejack wasn’t sure it was enough. Their arms were bound behind their backs and thick logs wedged in their mouths. Their jutting tusks cut furrows in the bark. Still the Brothers surveyed the assembled ponies like they were choosing their next target. The ponies nearest Applejack shied back as the wagon lumbered in front of the Sheriff’s office.
“Which one’s which?” said a nearby mare. 
A stallion next to her pointed at the Brothers. “See that one on the right? With the black ponytail? That there’s Flick” 
“The one with the huge, rippling biceps?” 
“Yeah, that’s the—hey!” 
The mare didn’t miss a beat. “And I guess the squat one with the beer gut and bald head is Pick, right?” 
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Flick’s biceps!” 
“Oh, do you think they’d let me talk with him?” Applejack tuned the pair out. 
Behind the wagon, the chained cherry tree trunk dug a groove. There were two indents in the wood. Indents that were shaped exactly like the backs of the Grumble Brother’s heads. 
Sheriff Lucky Roll put himself between the towns ponies and the criminals, looking for all the world like he wanted to be somewhere safer. Like the other side of Equestria. 
“Right then!” He called out. “Let’s make this quick so we can ship these two off to the Canterlot Penitentiary.” The Grumble Brothers let out a snarl. Applejack could swear there was smoke coming from the edges of their mouths. “The town of Dodge Junction does hereby thank Ms. Cherry Jubilee for aiding in the capture of these here wanted fugitives.” More growling. The chains whined. “And I’m sure that the good folks of Dodge will sleep easier knowing these two are on the first train outta town.”
“A-hem.” 
All heads swiveled to the figure gliding away from the group. Penelope Preda approached the wagon like it was a flower stand. “I do beg your pardon for interrupting Sherriff, but pray tell, when is the next train out of Dodge?” 
The Sherriff scratched at his mane. “Uh... well, the Brothers were robbing the last one. Managed to push over a car before that there tree walloped ‘em. Gotta get the fallen car off the tracks and get the train patched up... then, guess we gotta reinforce the car to hold these two.” Sherriff deflated like a balloon come too close to Pokey Pierce. “I reckon we could have them shipped out tomorrow morning.” 
“I see.” Preda nodded somberly. “Well, I am sure we will all let out a breath of relief after tomorrow morning.” 
“Yes’m.” the Sherriff cleared his throat and looked at Ms. Jubilee, who’d been glaring hard enough to break stone. “Anyway, we got plenty of time to show our thanks to the folks up at Cherry Hill Ranch and-”
“A-hem.” Preda raised a talon. “I must, however, play Tartarus’ advocate in this matter. Y’see, I took the liberty of reviewing the town code as soon as I heard these brutes were under lock and key.” She cast a glance at the several padlocks that linked the chain around the Brother’s chests. Each big enough for cattle pens. “I realized that there are at least three conditions that must be met to claim a bounty.” 
She held up a talon, and one of them Varmin tykes appeared to give her a scroll before disappearing. The little one had a sheriff’s badge clutched in one paw. 
“In order to claim right of bounty, a pony must meet the following criteria: They must present the captured party to the local sheriff or mayor. Said captured party must be properly bound so as to confirm intent to capture. Finally, the delivery must be witnessed by a third party, preferably a resident of the town proper.” Preda rolled the scroll back up and held it out. The tall, lanky Varmin darted in and took it, then disappeared. He had on a wide-brim hat, and Applejack noticed that one of the Dodge ponies was looking around quizzically with bad case of what Rarity called “hat mane.”
Ms. Jubilee’s face was turning red as her namesake. “Now hold on one cherry-picking minute! Are you implying-”
“I am merely quoting the law, Ms. Jubilee.” Preda smiled, thin as a razor blade. “And I am afraid that the law says that this is not a legitimate bounty.” 
Cherry Jubilee pointed at the trunk and the line it cut through the town. “That is my cherry tree. Raised on my land by my own hooves.”
“And no doubt launched by that bumbler of a worker you keep.” The town ponies glanced around nervously, but Applejack couldn’t spot Clutterstep. “Regardless, are you saying that we should pay the bounty to a tree?” She giggled, and a faint ripple of laughs went through the crowd. 
Preda looked to the Sheriff. “I believe we should count our blessings and accept this as one of fate’s kind gestures. Far better that tree struck these brutes and not one of our townsfolk.” A murmur of agreement this time, much stronger than the laughter. 
“Lucky!” Ms. Jubilee looked at the gambler pony, imploring. “You know what this could do for me.” 
The Sheriff poked at the dirt as if looking for the answer. “I’m awful sorry, Ms. Jubilee. The law’s the law.” 
Ms. Jubilee opened and closed her mouth several times before spinning around and stomping through the crowd. Anypony with a lick of sense stayed out of her way. Applejack worked her way to the back of the crowd and found her brother. Big Macintosh just looked at her, all somber, and shook his head. 
“It ain’t right.” said Applejack.
“Nnope.”
“And their ain’t a thing we can do about it.” 
“Yep.” 
They fell in behind Ms. Jubilee, keeping back far enough that they couldn’t make out whatever she was muttering. 
Clutterstep slipped in with the group not long after. His expression had softened, but he looked as downcast as the rest of them. “That went over like a lead airship.” He sighed. “Still, did you hear the way those Grumble Brothers, well, grumbled? Couldn’t even talk back. Sherriff could have at least put in a jab about their smell.”
Big Macintosh nodded, “Eeyup.”
“Or their warts.” said Clutterstep.
“Eeyup.”
Applejack grinned. “How ‘bout them teeth? I reckon those logs were the closest thing to a toothbrush they ever done seen.” 
“Eeyup!” The three of them shared a quiet laugh. And just like that, whatever kind of argument she and Clutterstep had dissolved into the wind. 
“That sheriff.” Ms. Jubilee stopped and waited, trembling. “If Penelope Preda is a snake, then what does that make him? He has to look up just see a snake’s belly!” Applejack and Big Macintosh came up to her on either side. 
“It’s always like this.” Ms. Jubilee sobbed. “That witch has the town law memorized cover to cover. Ain’t no pony can oppose her without becoming a criminal, and the Sherriff ain’t opposed her once since the day she gave him that badge!” Ms. Jubilee looked to Applejack, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She going to take my livelihood, Applejack. And she’s gonna do it legally.” 
Applejack drew her friend into a hug, but couldn’t think on what to say. 
“Crafted by the noblest intent and tempered by time, we follow the word of the law even when our hearts cry out for fairness. For if we were to venture beyond its shelter, where would we turn when faced with life’s cruelties?” 
The three ponies turned to stare at Clutterstep, who was looking back towards the horizon. He realized they were watching and put on a sheepish grin. “Just... something I once heard. From a very wise and frustrated pony.” He walked up to Ms. Jubilee, wearing a gentle smile now. Seemed to have one for every occasion. “Ms. Feather Duster just kept us from one payday. We’re still going to make her choke on that bill of sale.” 
Ms. Jubilee nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes. You’re right. I’m sorry for blubbering, everypony. Let’s get back on the ranch and back to work.” 
The earth ponies nodded agreement, but Applejack kept an eye on Clutterstep the whole way back. 
When he’d talked about the law, he’d been looking to the northwest.
Towards Canterlot. 

XXXXXX

They worked past dusk, to when the first star and Princess Luna’s moon appeared. Applejack wanted to continue. To make up for time lost on the trip to town and all the crates Clutterstep knocked over and had to refill. Granny Smith would have had a conniption if Applejack had bruised that many apples during the harvest. 
All it took was one shake of the head from Big Macintosh to tell her she was pushing too hard. Harvesting an unfamiliar orchard and night was as good away to break a leg or neck as jumping off Ghastly Gorge. 
The ponies retired to Ms. Jubilee’s house for a supper of leftover goods. 
“I’m awful sorry I can’t offer you dears a proper meal.” Ms. Jubilee said as she set the plates in front of them. Salad with almonds and a light-cherry dressing, biscuits, and sweet mugs of cider. A cherry pie warmed in the oven. 
“If this is an improper meal,” Clutterstep said between mouthfuls, “then I’m the king of Equestria. Isn’t that right, Big M?”
“Eeyup.” Her brother was showing more restraint, but Applejack noticed that Ms. Jubilee had favored him with the largest servings. 
Applejack grinned at Clutterstep. “Big M?”
“Uh-huh.” Clutterstep popped a biscuit and chewed. “You not big on nicknames, Jack?” 
“Oh, land sakes!” Ms. Jubilee laughed. “Clutter, you could at least choose a more complimentary name.” 
“It’s all fine.” said Applejack. “My momma once told me that a pony knows they’re loved when they have lots of names.” 
Clutterstep started chewing more thoughtful-like. “You have a big family?” 
“Eeyup.” 
“Huge.” agreed Applejack. “Got cousins from Appleoosa all the way to Baltimare, Hoofington, and Manehattan. Me and Big Macintosh live with my little sister, Applebloom, and Granny Smith. We get together with the larger family every couple of moons at Sweet Apple Acres. Have a right good time.”
“Eeyup.”
“Unless of course, you know, stuff happens. Barns get knocked over and fruit-bats attack. That wasn’t so much fun.”
“Nnope.” 
Applejack took a swig of cider to clear the air. “And then there’s the times we have my friends over. Pinkie Pie throws the crazies parties and things just go from there. Big Bro, you remember that time you woke up and found out we’d styled your mane like Rarity’s?” 
Big Macintosh closed his eyes and gave a firm, “Nnope.” The table erupted with laughter. 
“That must be nice.” Clutterstep smiled at his plate. “Family dinners. Real nice.” 
“Sure is.” She wondered how everypony back in Ponyville was doing. Granny was likely tucking Applebloom into bed, reading her a bedtime story. She hoped Granny could do the funny voices. Applejack was still practicing those with her little sister. Big Macintosh nudged her under the table. “Uh, how ‘bout you, Clutterstep?” 
The blue earth pony wiped his mouth. “Never really fit the whole ‘family dynamic.’ It’s no biggie.” He was still smiling, but it was the kind a smile a pony wore when they were the only ones not in on a joke, and were just trying to keep up appearances.
The cherry pie was a welcome distraction. Ms. Jubilee even added a dollop of vanilla ice cream. A la mort, or something like that. 
Ms. Jubilee covered a yawn. “I am sorry dears, but I’m going to turn in. Lots to do, lots.” She stood and went to the door, then paused and glanced back at Applejack’s brother. “My room’s the last door on the left.” 
“Eeyup.” 
“Can’t miss it. Cherry emblem on the frame.” 
“Eeyup.” 
“I never lock it.” 
Applejack covered her eyes with one hoof. “Ms. Jubilee!” 
“I’m sorry, dear. It’s just nice to know that there’s a big, strong stallion nearby. Make a lady feel right secure.” 
Clutterstep muttered, “Huuuurt.” But he grinned the minute Ms. Jubilee was out of hearing. “Dude, you should go for it.” 
“Huh?” Big Macintosh stared at him. 
“I mean... you know.”
“Nnope?” 
“Open door policy? Invitation?” The two stallions stared at each other. “For the love of testosterone, Big M! Am I gonna have to bring out flash cards?” 
A light went off in Big Macintosh’s head, and his mouth dropped. “Oh!” Applejack didn’t need to see past his red coat to know he was blushing something awful. 
“Yes! ‘Oh!’ That’s usually a sound-”
“Clutterstep!” Applejack brought her hooves down on the table. “None of that!” 
“Fine. Fine.” Clutterstep waved a hoof. “Still say you should go for it.” 
“N-nnope!” 
The smaller stallion laughed. “You are a kick, Big M.” He stood and took his plate towards the sink. He tripped on the rug, and the plates went flying out the window. A half-second later, a crash. Clutterstep stood and sighed. “And that’s why she served me with the cheap plates. Smart mare, that Ms. Jubilee.” He headed for the door. 
“Just leave it, Clutter. We’ll clean it up come daylight.” 
Clutterstep rested a hoof on the door. “Oh, I sleep out in the orchard, in the south field. Got a hammock set up.” 
“Outside?” Applejack glanced out the window. “In the cold?” 
“It’s not cold this time of year. Besides, I don’t usually go indoors. Not safe to for me to be in a house, apartment, condo, castle, cave, outhouse. Last one’s a real mess to clean up. I barely ever go indoors. That’s why... well, this was fun.” He smiled at the Apple siblings. “Thanks. Goodnight, guys.” And then he left without another word. 
Applejack sat in the quiet for a moment, nursing the mug of cider some more. “Sure stepped into a hornet’s nest, didn’t we?” 
“Eeyup.” said Big Macintosh. 
“You reckon we did the right thing?”
“Eeyup.” He had a way of saying that “eeyup” that was so full of certainty that it couldn’t be better coming from Celestia herself. 
Applejack just nodded. Three days. Not a lot of time to save a ranch. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Big Macintosh.” 
Her brother stood and walked over to give her a nuzzle. “Lil’ Jack.” 
She laughed, “You ain’t called me that in ages.” 
“Always think of you like that.” He smiled. “Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight, big bro.” She nuzzled her brother before he trotted off to bed. Just to be safe, she made sure he went into the right room. 
Applejack sat alone for a spell. She didn’t think she could sleep if the Sandmare herself was tossing a desert’s worth of sleep dust. Dodge was broken. A sheriff that wouldn’t fight for the ponies. A ranch worker who didn’t know one bit about farming. Varmin. Trolls. A lot to lose, and so little time to save it. 
An Apple honors her friends.
She’d faced Diamond Dogs, Changelings, dragons, hydras, and a chaos spirit and managed to come home every time. There weren’t no reason she couldn’t do it again. 

XXXXXX

“Bloody pony!” Whiskers picked another shard of porcelain from his fur. Given them a right scare, it had. “He nearly took out me eye!” he cast a glare at Rawley. “You could have warned me.”
Rawley shrugged from his hiding place behind the tool shed while that blue earth pony made his way to the southern fields hammock. “You gotta know when to duck, m’lad. Now keep your voice down!” 
He’d recruited Whiskers from the group to make another run on the Cherry Hill Ranch and see if they couldn’t nip some of them documents Ms. Preda had been wanting. Get a hold of a few bank account numbers and they’d have this place by the tail. 
Was all set to swipe in and out before them ponies was the wiser. Only problem was sudden flying plates that struck a bloke outta nowhere. Now their fight or flight urges were all worked up. Now wasn’t the time for sneaking. It was time to bugger off. 
Yet the cautious Varmin moved when no pony was looking. So Rawley forced himself against the shed and waited for that blue disaster to vanish into the orchard. 
Every other pony had shoved off after a little persuasion or an unfortunate accident. That one went through accidents without any help from Rawley or his mates. Had a skull like diamond, he did. Was near impossible to put the fear of Tartarus in him. Rawley would’ve loved to arrange for some disaster to take him that night, but being near him triggered the instincts that had kept the Varmin going well past slower and more edible races.
Smeghead was untouchable in the same way as a bomb. You could do it, but what happened next wasn’t worth the risk. 
Once the pony was out of sight, Rawley waved Whiskers onward and they darted through the shadows to a low point in the ranch fence. 
Scamp, Scrap, and Twitch were waiting for them at the boundary. Hiding in semi-plain sight. Rawley wanted to sigh, but any frustration got blasted away when he saw what Twitch held. 
“Who gave him a saw?” 
“Tsh-sh-sh-sh-sh!” Twitch was either trying to cut through air or show how they’d finished their task. 
“Was his idea, you see?” Scamp pointed to Scrap.
“Was not! You said we should give him the bloody thing!” 
“All right!” Rawley caught them both by the scruff before they could have another go. “Does this mean you got it done?” 
“Yessir!” said Scrap. 
Scamp nodded eagerly. “Got a dozen tree limbs just a-waiting to come crashing down, you see?” 
Rawley set the tykes loose and they darted behind Whiskers. Rawley turned to Twitch, who had stopped having a go at the air and looked to be taking a shot at the fence. “Oy! None of that.”
“Hssss!”
“Did you cut the branches just so? None of them ponies will see it coming?”
“Tsh!” Twich’s head bobbed while his left eye couldn’t decide if it should open or close. Rawley resolved to nip the saw away at the first chance. Couldn’t totally blame the lads for giving it over. Twitch was scary-good at this sort of thing. Come tomorrow, there’d be a few new patients for the Dr. Hacksaw. 
If they were lucky. 
“Let’s be off then. Gotta see how Harumphery’s cleaning’s gone.” The shared a snicker and bounded over the fence into the night. 
Whiskers pulled up alongside Rawley, matching his pace despite his size. “Booby traps are all well and good, but we didn’t get nothing! Ms. Preda ain’t gonna like us coming home with empty paws.” 
“Let me worry about that, old bean.” said Rawley. ‘cause I understand that what’s in the paw ain’t half as worthwhile as what’s in your noggin. He went over the list in his head. 
Granny Smith. Applebloom. Sweet Apple Acres.