Big Mac, or Macintosh Apple the Third, watched as Dash flew away from the farm at high speed. “Well ah’ll be, ain’t that confusin’. Why was Dash hidin’ in a tree?”
He head back towards the barn and Applejack. The two of them would have a long day ahead of them if they couldn't find Twilight and get their orchard fixed. The south field was now an orange grove and the farm was in disarray.
Applebloom was sent to check on the other fields, finding the whole situation funny. She hoped to get a cutie mark in ‘orange extermination.’ Meanwhile Granny was gathering up as many oranges as she could. It turns out she loves orange marmalade, and wanted to make some before the fields reverted to apples.
Applejack paced around the barn kicking rocks around and muttering under her breath. "Of all the no good low down things. . . Why if ah find out who's behind this ah'm gonna buck 'em clear to Canterlot!" She was ready to go to war with the ponies responsible, leaving her big brother to calm her down.
"Deep breaths, sis," Mac spoke softly. "Don't need ya losing control of your temper when we do find 'em. Ah figure having 'em help harvest the field is punishment enough."
"When have ah ever lost control of my temper—" She spun to face Mac. "Wait, don't answer that. Gah. Ah swear ever since Twilight moved to town ah can't have a single day without somethin' crazy happening."
"Ya got to admit, it makes life a lot more interestin'. " Mac flashed a weak smile in response to her glare.
"Ah suppose we weren't really livin' an excitin’ life until Nightmare Moon returned. Ah just wish the excitement weren’t interfering with running the farm." She stopped marching around and glanced at Mac. "So who'd ya think cursed our fields?"
"Ah was goin' to tell ya that I saw Dash fly outta one of the trees, but ah don't see how she could turn apples to oranges," Mac stated as a matter of fact.
"Ah wouldn't put it past her to be the mastermind. Ever sense the prank with her mane; she's had it in for me."
"Why do you two always hafta prove who's the best?" Mac paused for a moment to ask the question he really wanted to know. "Is it something 'bout her personality? She's around this farm more than Applebloom and has never said a word to me."
"Heh," she laughed. "That'd be 'cuz you're always hard at work. Work's the last thing on her mind. If it doesn't have to do with partyin', braggin', or nappin' then Dash wants none of it."
Mac pondered her sentiments. It was a start, but didn't really tell him much about Dash. She was an attractive mare. He couldn’t decide if she might be hanging around the farm to get to know him, or if he was reading too much into it. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had jumped to conclusions.
He decided to push his luck a little further. "She can't be all bad, seems to be the only pony other than your brother that can best ya in a competition."
"Careful there, last time ya tried to prove you were still stronger ah hurt ya and you missed an applebuck season."
A deep laugh resonated from Big Mac. "Ah told ya ah would have snapped ya like a twig but ah hesitated. You ever want a rematch, let me know."
"Bah, you're bad as Dash. Sure, she's fast in the air, and sly as a fox. Ain't no way she's stronger though, just finds ways to bend the rules."
"You're mighty harsh considerin' she's one of your five closest friends," Mad added. "If she's all bad, why'd you two hang out so much? You aren't fillyfooli—" Mac jumped aside as two apples screamed past his head.
"You're insufferable sometimes, Mac." Applejack laughed at him. "Almost as bad as Dash. Sure she's brash and boastful, but ah suppose she makes up for it with loyalty. Still doesn't mean she ain't as annoyin' as an angry rodeo clown. And if any pony is fillyfoolin' it ain't me or Dash. She's out with Vinyl picking up stallions all the time."
Mac hid a frown at the last bit, preferring to think Dash wasn't that kind of mare. Deciding he'd gotten about as much useful information from his sister as possible, he came up with a reason to head into town. "Well then, ah'll go get Twilight to come fix the farm." Mac flashed a look back at his sister. "And ya should consider fillyfoolin; looks like you need to blow off some steam."
He laughed and ducked a few more apples flung at him. "This ain't over, I know where ya’ll live!" Applejack shouted.
Macintosh continued towards town, pondering the odd behavior of Dash. Mac spent so much time working on the farm that he rarely had time to hang out with friends, not to mention consider a relationship. He decided he was thinking too much into it, like the time he ran into Trixie in Canterlot. If Dash was interested in him, surely she would have said something after all the time she spent on the farm.
Mac nearly passed the library on his way towards Sugarcube Corner. He stopped briefly to knock at the door. After a minute of trying to pick a small rock out of his hoof, he knocked again.
"Hurry up Spike!" a voice inside shouted. "I'm in the middle of an experiment!"
"I'm going, I'm going." Spike opened up the door and had to tilt his head far back to see Mac's face. "Oh hey Big Red, how's it going?"
"Not bad, short stuff. Ah need Twilight's help, some pony has gone and turned all our apples into oranges in the south field."
"Oh, I'll go get her." Spike walked over to the basement door. "Twilight, it's for you!"
"I'll be right up," Twilight shouted. There was a slight rumbling sound and a few wisps of acrid smoke from downstairs. "I'll be up eventually," she added.
"So Mac, you still reading the Age of Dragons graphic novels?" Spike hopped up onto the sofa, and pointed to the half-read novel.
"Eeyup," Mac said. "Ah just finished that one, great book. Never expected Artemis to kill the last emerald dragon." Mac put on his best poker face.
"What?!" Spike tossed the book aside. "Really? How could you spoil it like that?" Spike flopped back onto the couch.
Mac let out a deep laugh that echoed off the wooden walls of the library. "You're too easy to trick.”
Spike let out a nervous laugh and sighed. "Alright, you had your fun. So, we still on for poker with Cake, Whooves, and Braeburn?"
"Sure, Sugarcube corner Thursday. Be sure to bring plenty of baked goods, and try not to hiccup and mail Braeburn's hand of cards to Celestia again."
"Hi Mac, what brings you to the library?" Twilight walked out of the basement, straightening her hair with magic. It wasn't visible, but the smell of burnt hair lingered on her.
"Somepony turned all of his apples into oranges. He needs you to fix his orchard,” Spike explained.
“Eeyup,” Mac chimed.
"Good job Spike, you sure got a lot of information out of him. Maybe it was a transmutation spell. . ." Twilight walked over to the nearby bookshelf. "Spike, where's the book on Organic Chemistry, Transmutation, and Alchemical Science?"
Spike jumped up and walked over to the section labeled 'O.' "Here you go, Twilight." He knew from experience not to bother handing it to her. As soon as he found a book she needed, a purple aura would whisk it away to her. It was best to let go, or he'd find himself hovering in mid-air with the book in question.
"Hmm, yes. . ." Twilight flipped through pages and continued to voice half the conversation she was having with herself. "Fruit bats, fruit transformations, advanced illusions. . . No I think it's simpler, sounds more like a high school prank. . . Well, it still takes a degree of skill. . ."
"So Mac, any idea who cast a spell on your farm?" Spike asked.
"Nope.”
After ten seconds, the name of the only other skilled magician with a possible grudge surfaced in her consciousness. "Trixie! Of course, have you seen her? She must be back in town, she has the skill to cast the spell. . . Oh, this is not good, I wonder if she's here for another duel? I thought we parted on good terms, then this!"
Spike walked over to interject before Twilight had another episode. "Twilight, calm down. It's not that bad, at least, I think it isn't. Let's just go check out the farm nice and calmly."
Mac watched as Twilight practiced a breathing exercise. "Ah’m getting’ back to work.” He excused himself from the house as Spike talked sense into Twilight. He often wondered what she would do without Spike to be her voice of reason.
Macintosh walked towards Sugarcube Corner to talk to one of the few other stallions in town. Twilight had once tried to explain to Mac why the ratio of mares to stallions was nearly 10 to 1. He wasn't slow by any means, but Twilight's lectures were renowned for causing many ponies to wind up stuck at the library for hours. For once, his ability to just say 'Nope' and walk away had saved him from a lecture on the genetic composition and mating habits of ponies following the great famine of 1812.
The door to the cupcake factory opened with a jingle. He had walked in so many times that Pinkie appearing out of nowhere did not shock him anymore. "Pinkie," he stated.
"Oh Big Mac! So good of you to drop by. I was just telling Gummy how strong you were, but he thinks adult alligators are stronger. I don't know any adult alligators, do you? Braeburn says I wouldn't like them if I met any, because they have lots of teeth. You think Celestia would remove all their teeth for me?"
"Nope." Mac continued on towards the counter.
"It was super nice talking to you Big Mac! Braeburn is taking me out to the Everfree Café. It's this wonderful new restaurant with all the fun of the Everfree, without the constant threat of death!"
"Eeyup."
"Okie dokie lokie." Pinkie bounced over towards the stairs, sailing four feet in the air with each leap. To this day, Mac didn't understand how it was physically possible for a pony to get around town by only bouncing. Her calf muscles must have the strength and size of a Minotaur's by now. Despite having no visible calf muscles, Pinkie continued to favor jumping as a mode of locomotion. Mac dismissed it as her and physics having a special agreement.
Mr. Cake smiled and spoke up once Pinkie was gone. "You're the only pony in town that can end a conversation with Pinkie in less than 10 seconds."
"Eeyup," he chuckled. "You shoulda seen her last time she popped outta a keg of apple cider. She is gettin' more and more desperate to surprise me. Celestia forbid she figures out I'm not the shy type, ah'd have more parties than apples on the farm."
"I can see why you play it safe, so what brings you into town this evening?"
"Well, ah got a question to ask one stallion to another." Big Mac smiled. "You uh. . . how do ya know if a mare likes ya?"
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd finally return a mare's attention. Why don't we head out and get a drink?" Mr. Cake began to remove his apron.
"Ain't it a mite early?" Big Mac asked.
"Nope. It's five o'clock somewhere, in fact, it's five o'clock here." Cake pointed up to the clock above the register.
"Ah guess so, well, after you." Mac followed Cake out of the store.
The duo headed for the edge of town. While Sugarcube Corner was near the central town square, the bar was a family owned business near the road to Canterlot. It occasionally doubled as an inn, providing beds to weary travelers. With so many ponies moving to Ponyville, new houses were finally being built and this sort of establishment was becoming less common.
Taking two seats at the bar, they were pleased to see only half a dozen ponies wandering around.
"Looks like a busy night, what can I get you two?" The bartender inquired.
"Colt Daniels," Mac responded.
"Apple martini," Cake added.
"We need ta get ya on the stronger stuff," Mac joked, throwing a quick elbow into his side.
"Last thing I need is to come home drunk with two babies waiting to be changed and a wife eager for my affections." Cake relaxed himself and took a deep breath. "So, let me guess. You finally like a mare and you're too shy to ask them out?"
"Sorta, but ah don't know if they like me, or even where they came from." Mac may not have been the shy pony the town thought he was, however he did have trouble expressing feelings. How would he describe to his friend the bit of joy he felt knowing Dash was on the farm? How would he put into words that one smile from her could wash away the aches from plowing soil and ripping out tree stumps for ten hours? The two had barely spoken to each other, yet he found these alien feelings in the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored.
Cake chuckled. "Here I have a wife, two kids, and my niece Pinkie. You, on the other hoof, are the most eligible bachelor in town. Everytime a mare goes into heat they come poking round the farm and flirting with you. And you're still nervous to ask one out? You're exactly like your father."
"Ah've been told ah'm like him in a lot of ways." He took a drink as soon as the bartender returned.
"And it's a compliment, isn't the anniversary coming up?"
"Eeyup."
"If you want me to go with you to pay respects let me know." Cake smiled and pushed the straw around his martini. "Now, who might this lucky mare be?"
"The competition with the Flim Flam brothers was the first time ah noticed her. Rainbow Dash, figured an athletic and attractive mare like her would be seein’ somepony. She spends a lot o’ time with AJ on the farm, and ah reckon ah’ve caught her starin’ a few times. Ah didn’t think much of it, then ah find her hidin’ from me in a tree."
"Makes sense," he decided. "A strong, shy stallion like you and a beautiful, nervous mare in heat—"
Mac's red face turned a few shades darker as he blushed. "She's in heat?" Most mares would get a tad crazy when their drive to reproduce kicked in.
"Oh my, I thought you knew. Well, I only knew from Ms. Cake and Pinkie. . . Oh I'm never going to hear the end of this now." Mr. Cake rested his head on his hoof.
"Ya make married life seem so wonderful. Anyway, ah assume you might be able to fill me in on some o' the details about Dash? Ah'd like to know this is more than hormones, and asking Applejack for advice for dating her rival would be foolish.”
"You're smarter than you look, Mac. Mares are complicated, got to watch what you say, though I'd love to see you and AJ in another tussle. If I'd known your friendly wager before applebuck season was going to get violent, I'd have sold tickets." Cake laughed, causing Mac to blush again.
"Still haven't heard the end o' that one," he griped.
"Well, I'll tell you what I know of Dash. To be fair, it's mostly from Pinkie, Ms. Cake, and newspaper headlines. I think she'd be great for you, world famous superhero and all."
"Dash is a superhero?" Mac turned to face his friend and pay closer attention.
"Oh sure, not just saving the world from the likes of Discord, or bragging like the time with the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well. That's just a cover story for her real superhero activities. Why'd you think she has the only cloud house in Ponyville? It's full of expensive gadgets."
"Uh oh, you're 'bout to tell me the whole story about when she moved to Ponyville? Will ya at least end it with a little practical advice?"
"Sure thing, Shyguy," Cake quipped. "By day, she naps and delegates jobs to the weather team, but by night—"
======================================================================
"Dash's journal, March 15th, 1997. Found the remains of a diamond dog near the edge of town. This town is afraid of me, for I have seen it's true face. The homes of Ponyville cover up the illegal gambling, foalnapping, and dog fights in the basements. Cruel ponies, bend the law for personal gain and drench the soil on blood. When it finally scabs over, all those vermin will drown. The filth of all their law-breaking will bring the wrath of Celestia upon them. All the charlatans, royal families, and politicians will look up and shout 'Save us!' . . . and I'll whisper 'no.' "
"Ah'm pretty sure ya just quoted one of Spike's graphic novels," Mac accused.
"Well it's better than 'she moved to Ponyville and started fighting crime.' Come on, I got three kids and a wife at home, let me have this," Cake begged."
"Carry on."
“Dash’s journal. Tonight I patrolled the slums, a blotch of filth on the south side of Ponyville. Clad in my catsuit and an assortment of weapons, I became a creature of the night. The filth prowling the streets had a name for me, I never took much of a liking to it. Usually they’d cry it out when they were done screaming for mercy.
“I have tracked down the pony trafficking ring to the east end of south street and third avenue. A dozen low-income houses are squished against one another, almost like a tumor interrupting the straight row of buildings. Ran into Cherry Jubilee again, looks like more mares have taken to selling their body to make a living in this rough town. ‘Give a stallion a carrot, he’ll give you ten bits and his stick’ she always told me.
“Unfortunately for Cherry, she wasn’t in a talking mood tonight. I found the corpse crammed under a porch. Decent mares fighting to survive in a depraved world, she didn’t deserve this. I followed her blood trail across the street to another house. The diamond dogs were getting complacent, stupid, they had led me straight to their hideout. I would make them pay in kind for the suffering they had wrought.
“I took one last look around at the town I grew up in with a sweet yellow mare. Berry Punch and Cloud Kicker’s houses were boarded up, covered in grime from disuse. They were two of the first to vanish. I had no evidence back then, had to bash in several skulls to get to the truth of the foalnappings.
“I checked the door. Locked, would have been too easy. I used a second story window to get in. I found the remnants of the Diamond Dog’s depravity. Soiled bed sheets, signs of struggle, a tuft of hair. The poignant odor of urine and feces assaulted me. The mutts were a cancer to our way of life, tonight I would excise them. They would beg for mercy, just like the ponies they have harmed, and I shall not give it to them.
“The house was full of locked doors. I headed downstairs, past the sounds of chains and moaning and towards the voices of the dogs. I hovered down into the basement to see what they were up to. Five of the dogs were playing poker. Funny, one of them had a royal flush. He seemed quite pleased until my hoof caved in his skull. The other dogs didn’t seem so pleased.
“I began the familiar dance. The vile, sinful members of society would attack me to defend their way of life. I would purge their wicked ways as they screamed in agony. After all these years it was too easy to deflect their punches and snap their bones until one dog remained. Had another funny idea, I found a leash and hooked it to his collar. Made him walk me down into the mines. I don’t think he liked it, then again he’s not around anymore to complain.
“I still dream of what I saw down in those mines. A dozen ponies, skin and bone, clinging to life and pulling carts of gems. Fillies and colts put to work digging into the ground with bare hooves. What bothered me most was the ones I didn’t get there in time to help.
“Scootaloo, I took that filly under my wing. The town knows her parents were killed by the Diamond Dogs in that cave. They don’t know how, and I still can’t put the horrors into words. They had even snapped Scootaloo’s wings to keep her from flying off. Filly is still trying to learn to fly. I knew then what had to be done, for every filly, colt, and mare that had died by the vermin’s hands.
“I emptied out the caves that night. Not a single pony nor Diamond Dog remained when I was finished. I carried back every weak pony to town, took every cold body to the mortuary. No dogs left the caves that night. I haven’t seen a Diamond Dog within fifty miles of Ponyville since. I think they’re not as stupid as they look.
“Ponyville may not want a hero who brags in broad daylight. Perhaps I have more to learn. I can’t be the hero in the public eye that the town wants to inspire them. Instead I have become the silent protector of the night, who does what even Celestia fears to do, in order to protect Equestria.”
======================================================================
"So, if I want to get her alone in an underground room, in chains as my slave, you're telling me I should start a crime syndicate?" Mac asked.
Cake choked briefly on his martini, turning red. "What? . . . No."
Mac chuckled softly. "Well, that was certainly a grim story. While ah don't doubt Dash is a hero, heck all the elements are, ah'm a bit suspicious of your version. Ah never heard of no ponies being stolen at night, nor a bunch of Diamond Dogs bein' killed." Big Mac had finished his drink and noticed the bar had filled up to near capacity.
"The Mayor covered up the story. Ponyville is having a growth spurt, she doesn't want any bad publicity. Plus, she has a deal with Dash. Mayor turns a blind eye, Dash keeps the crime rate down." Mr. Cake had only finished half of his martini. "Well, I think I've had enough to drink."
"Well ah'll be," Mac spat. "It's Trixie, she cast a spell on our farm and was hidin' right here, in the bar. Ah'm gonna go have words with her, Cake. If she uses her magic, ah need you to sneak up behind her with a bottle—" Cake cut him off.
"Oh no, last time you dragged me into a bar fight, my Wife wouldn't let me go to 'stallion's night out' for three weeks. You're on your own, pal."
Mac grunted, and stood up from the bar. He took a few steps towards Trixie when something nailed him right below the ribs. A wave of pain radiated from his kidney, and he momentarily lost his breath. He quickly turned to face the attacker, only to see a bit of rainbow hair follow a speeding blur out the door.
Pinkie tripped on Big Mac, rolling over once. She hopped to her feet. "Hi Mac! Great night for DJ Pon3, right? Was nice running into you! Ha, Running into you! Haha."
The pink mare was out the door in pursuit of what he now assumed was Rainbow Dash. He then remembered Trixie, the trouble maker and last mare he had tried to be friendly too. Their romance was. . . brief. The showmare was no longer in sight, having slipped out of the bar during the commotion.
Mac ran out of the bar in pursuit of Dash and Pinkie. They would know what the hay was going on, and he might even have a good icebreaker to introduce himself to Dash. "Hey Dash, I'm the stallion you knocked the wind out of. Nice head-butt! Want to go back to my place and clop?—" Mac shook his head, quickly pulling his brain out of the gutter. His Pa had taught him to treat women with respect, but being a lonely bachelor for 25 years often caused his mind to wander to such places.
Not sure where the mares went, he settled for zigzagging through the streets at full speed. His search pattern ended when he heard a loud boom, as if from a cannon. Rounding two more corners he found them.
Before him stood Pinkie Pie, jubilantly dancing around. Next to the party cannon, was a mare covered head to toe in yellow cake batter. As Mac got closer, he saw that Pinkie's dancing was really her throwing sprinkles on the mare. No fur nor mane were visible from the blob of cake mix.
Pinkie's mane was slowly curling back up as she danced around and flung sprinkles.
"Dash, that you?" Big Mac spoke loudly. Pinkie froze in shock as her jaw dropped. She was convinced Mac only knew two words. The mare coated in yellow paste seemed to tense up. Two mushy wings shot out and she made it about four feet off the ground before landing in the dirt. The mare, now two parts batter and one part dirt, fled like a bat out of Tartarus.
Mac had half a mind to follow, but the mare was ridiculously fast despite Pinkie's assault.
"Pinkamena Diane Pie! What do ya think you're doin'? Assaultin' mares at night with cake mix, really?" Big Mac stomped towards her, upset that she might have just assaulted a mare he had wanted to get to know.
"What . . . you . . .speak? . . . but she. . . you're talk—" Pinkie's mind was racing in circles. Something finally brought it to a screeching halt as she regained composure. "Big Mac! Oh I'm so glad to see you, Dash broke a Pinkie Promise and I had to make sure she'd never do it again! I was going to cover her in batter at the bar in front of everypony, I was even thinking of throwing her in an oven—no not like that! I wouldn't turn it on—I just needed to let her know that nopony breaks a Pinkie Promise!"
Big Mac was shocked now, the mare had managed to give him the whole spiel in about 8 seconds. He began to understand what it must be like for Mr. Cake to be around the town's most talkative mare and two babies who were up all night needing fed and changed. It must have been a minor miracle he didn't favor hard liquor to apple martinis.
Big Mac spoke calmly and evenly. "Pinkie, ah know you take your Pinkie Promises seriously, but this is too much. Couldn't ya just talk to her? Ah bet lots of ponies have accidently broke a Pinkie Promise."
"Oh, but breaking a promise is the fastest way to lose a friend! I never want to lose a friend, that's why I'd never tell you Dash likes yo—" Pinkie froze, her mane instantly flattening out. She shrank until she was two feet shorter, and her pupils dilated wide in terror.
Mac felt two emotions simultaneously. First was the ecstasy at the thought that Dash had liked him this whole time. The second was fear that he had misheard Pinkie. "Dash likes me?"
"What? No, of course not silly fill—stallion! Oh dear, I've never broken a Pinkie Promise. What do I do Mac? Do I fire myself out of the cannon? Do I make everypony in town "I'm super-duper sorry" cupcakes?" Pinkie continued to shrink as a wild grin spread across her face. Her eyes began to spread apart, and Mac took a step back. He recalled Pinkie's birthday surprise party, and Applejack warning him to find cover if this happened.
"Uh Pinkie, it's fine, you didn't break it alright? Why don't ya just head home, Braeburn is probably worried. Ain't fair to have a special somepony and run off into the night, he must be worried." Mac smiled nervously; confident he could overpower Pinkie, but scared of her unnatural dexterity and speed.
"Braeburn! That's it, he'll know what to do! He always knows what to do when the voice starts talking!" Pinkie's hair curled back up, and she dashed home with the party cannon in tow.
"Celestia have mercy, and ah thought ah had issues." Mac frowned and headed home to go to bed. Tomorrow he would have to do two days' work in one, assuming the oranges had reverted to apples. This was no time to unravel the enigma of mares.