//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Macintosh Must Marry // by BillyColt //------------------------------// “Big Macintosh?” “Yeh?” “I was wonderin’...” Applejack was nearby, bucking the trees and letting the apples fall into the buckets. Her brother, Big Macintosh, was at work on another batch of trees, while Applebloom, too young to do the work herself, just watched. “What?” asked Big Macintosh, looking at the tiny filly. “Well, you’n Applejack both run Sweet Apple Acres, right?” Applebloom asked. “Eeyup.” “Well, it seems like Applejack does a whole lot more runnin’ than you do,” Applebloom said. “Ah guess she does,” Big Macintosh responded, “but she’s the eldest daughter, so Ah guess it’s more hers than mine.” “But...” Applebloom said, trying to work it out in her head, “you’re older.” “Eldest daughter, Applebloom,” sighed the stallion. “Ohhhh...” Big Macintosh left Applebloom to think over that, simply returning to his work. He was good at working, and he always prided himself on that. “‘ey, Mac!” called his sister, Applejack, “Coulja help me out here with these red galas?” “Sure thing, sis,” said Big Macintosh, taking a measured walk over to the tree. “Thanks,” said Applejack, setting up the buckets, “this one’s got a lotta apples on it, so it’ll need that much more buckin.’” Applebucking was simple, but there was more to it than most ponies gave credit for. Sure, you had to hit the trees to shake down the apples, but there had to be care taken. The trees were living things, themselves, and if they were bucked too hard they would hurt. Not a lot of ponies gave the Apple family a whole lot of credit when it came to intelligence, but they knew their job better than anypony around for miles. Big Macintosh never really minded anything. He did his work, he was good at it, and he was proud of it. It was quiet, steady, hard work that not a lot of ponies were willing to do. The two siblings carried on bucket apples from the trees while little Applebloom watched. Almost silently, old Granny Smith trudged up to them, supported by her walker. Her grandchildren didn’t really notice her, engrossed in their work as they were. “Apples are coming nicely,” she said after a break, in that just-loud-enough-that-it’s-conspicuous voice. “You betcha they are!” said Applejack, “Dunno about you, but I’d be darn shamed if they weren’t!” “Eeyup.” Granny Smith, however, made it clear that she was not actually interested in the apples. “I met a really nice young lady earlier today,” she said, looking at Big Macintosh, “I think you should meet her.” Macintosh sighed. He knew what this meant. “Don’t you sigh at me, young man!” Granny Smith snapped at him. “You’re in your prime, it’s best you start thinkin’ about marryin’ before it’s too late. She’s a respectable filly. She even has her own business, running a flower shop.” “I’ll think about it, Gran...” Big Macintosh said, really just wanting to get back to work. “Oh, it’s always think, think, think,” chirped Granny Smith, “you’re always thinking about it, but never doing it! You shouldn’t be on the farm, you should be married to some well-off young mare and making foals.” “Gran...” said Applejack, starting to feel a little embarrassed for her brother. “Don’t you ‘Gran’ me, young lady,” said Granny Smith, “why don’t you introduce your brother to some of your friends. That Rarity seems like a fine young lady...” “Oh, fine...” sighed Applejack. “That’s better,” said Granny Smith, and with a satisfied smile on her face, she walked off, slowly, but with an odd little spring in her step. “Sorry about that, Big Mac,” Applejack said. “‘Salright,” said Big Macintosh, “you didn’t do anything.” Applebloom, meanwhile, was confused. “Wait,” she said, “how does Big Macintosh make foals? I thought that was just mares.” Applejack ignored her. “If it means anything, I think we’d sorely miss ya if ya weren’t here on the farm and were just sitting at somepony’s house.” “I’d miss it, too,” said Big Macintosh. “Tell ya what,” said Applejack, “howabout sometime you come over with me while I’m visitin’ my friends. That might keep Granny offa yer back.” “I don’t know how much good that’ll do,” said he, “but thanks.” Macintosh Must Marry A superficial socio-political comedy-tary by BillyColt Pinkie Pie looked around at the park, not completely sure what she was looking at. “So... is this a party or a non-party?” She asked. “It’s a picnic, Pinkie,” said Twilight Sparkle. “We’ve been over this before.” Pinkie Pie let out a “hmm” as she inspected the wooden table, knocking on it with her hoof and then putting an ear to it. Twilight wasn’t even going to ask what she was listening for. Pinkie pie had to jump back, however, when a brightly-colored tablecloth was thrown in front of her. Twilight looked up, surprised, at Rarity, who was starting to set the table. “Rarity, what’re you–” “Now, really, Twilight, you can’t expect us to just eat off of that old table.” Rarity explained, fixing the tablecloth. “No, it has to be cleaner than that.” “Is there anything you’re not concerned with being ‘clean’ about?” groaned Rainbow Dash, who was sitting on a cloud above them. “Well,” said Rarity, “cleanliness is close to royalness.” “Iiiiiii don’t think that’s a word...” said Twilight Sparkle. “Well the suffixes have to match.” Rainbow Dash didn’t respond, as she was trying to figure out what “suffix” meant. She did, however, drop down from the cloud and sit down at the bench. “So,” she asked, looking around, “where’s Applejack and Fluttershy?” “Where are,” corrected Twilight. “Umm,” whispered Fluttershy, “I’ve been sitting here for the last five minutes.” “Wearer of what?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Well, howdy, gals,” called Applejack. “Sorry Ah’m late.” The other girls looked at her as she arrived, murmuring faint assurances. “I just wanted to get a little more applebuckin’ done before we came.” “‘We’?” asked Rainbow Dash, before she saw what Applejack was talking about. “Oh. ‘We.’” Big Macintosh followed behind his sister a short distance, not in any real enthusiastic rush. He didn’t see this as going anywhere. He could barely even call any of his sister’s friends “mild acquaintances.” Still, if it got Granny Smith to stop bugging him for a little while, it’d be worth it. He walked up to the edge of the table. The girls exchanged glances. He wasn’t part of their little group, so the whole thing was rather unexpected, awkward, and - worst of all - silent. “Weeeeeelllll...” started Applejack, “this is ma big bro, Big Macintosh. I believe we’ve all met.” “You took my doll, right?” asked Twilight. “Yyyy....” Fluttershy let out a startled squeak, which prompted Big Macintosh not to finish that word. “Do you...” Rarity mused, “do you always wear that harness?” “It’s reliable,” Big Macintosh said simply, before sitting down. His calm, unflappable expression didn’t betray his feeling that this was all futile. Pinkie Pie peered at him, tilting her head. “You’re a lot bigger than most of the other colts...” Twilight, meanwhile, started opening the picnic basket, while Rarity laid out paper plates. Rainbow Dash’s face alternated between a suspicious look at Big Macintosh and a general expression of boredom, while Fluttershy was, well, Fluttershy. “Applejack, did you bring the pie?” asked Twilight. “Aww...” groaned Applejack. “Dag-nabbit! I knew I forgot somethin’!” “I’ll get it,” offered Big Macintosh. The others watched as he turned to leave. “Not to be rude, Applejack dearest,” said Rarity, “but mightn’t you have... informed us ahead of time?” “Ahm sorry, Rarity,” said Applejack, “just wanted to get Granny Smith offa his back.” “What’s Granny Smith bugging him about?” Twilight Sparkle asked. “Uhh...” Applejack fumbled. She didn’t want to give an awkward explanation for anything. “Well, y’know... stuff.” “Oh, I hate that,” said Rainbow Dash. “Ponies bugging me about stuff. It’s like, ‘just leave me alone!’” “I hear ya!” concurred Pinkie Pie. Applejack let out a sigh of relief. Twilight Sparkle, however, was not satisfied with that answer. “What kind of stuff?” “Well... She wants ‘im to get married,” Applejack said, not seeing any point in putting it off. “Wait, what?” asked Twilight. “So, you’re trying to hook your big brother up with one of us?” Rainbow Dash asked incredulously. “Waaaaay not cool!” “He scares me...” “The very idea!” “I forgot the balloons!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed in despair. This managed to snap Applejack out of her horrible imagination. “It’s not a party without balloons!” “Pinkie, it’s a picnic, not a party,” said Twilight. “Oh. Then that’s okay.” *** Though Big Macintosh loved his Granny dearly, she was bugging him more and more frequently about getting married. She kept talking about how he should make himself “presentable” at all times so as to catch the eye of a well-to-do mare. Big Macintosh thought it was a silly effort for two reasons: first, being neat and tidy didn’t work very well when he was doing dirty work on the farm; second, he considered it highly unlikely that an upper-class mare would take to marrying a simple apple pony from Ponyville. Of course, actually telling this to Granny Smith was like talking to a brick wall. “Some high-tootin’-fancy not taking after my granson?” she would ask. “Nonsense! My Big Macintosh is worth any of them shiny horseshoe folks they got in Canterlot. My boy’s got integrity and heart!” At least the sentiment was nice. Big Macintosh sat down at a table under the shade of an umbrella. Today, at least, he was enjoying his time in Ponyville more than his time on Sweet Apple Acres, which was not a good thing. He sat down in a nice outdoor cafe, near the edge of Ponyville (taking his chances, it was the edge closest to Sweet Apple Acres). It was a pleasant establishment with umbrellas over the tables and a menu of familiar, comfortable food. It was also a nice place to meet with friends, such as the two mares at the nearby table waving to him. “Heya, Mac!” called one of them, a mint-green unicorn. “How’s it goin’?” “Same’s usual,” he said. “You two?” “Uh-huh,” said she. “Bon-Bon was a big hit over at improv night...” “Stop it, Lyra...” said her partner. “That went horribly.” “Oh, come on, it was hilarious.” “It wasn’t supposed to be!” cried Bon-Bon. “That was supposed to be very, very serious!” Big Macintosh smiled and looked back down at his menu. He considered having a sunflower pie. This establishment’s cooking wasn’t as good as Applejack’s, but it was still worth shelling a few bits if he could be free of Granny Smith’s prodding for an afternoon. “What night’s improv night again?” he asked. “Thursdays,” said Bon-Bon, still a little cranky with her smiling partner. “I’ll have to come see,” he said. “I haven’t attended in a while.” “Thank you,” said Bon-Bon. “I’ll bring popcorn,” said Lyra. Big Mac returned his attention back to his table, where he saw another stallion standing. It was Caramel. “Heya,” he said. “Mind if I join you?” “Nope.” “Thanks,” said Caramel. As he sat down, Macintosh noticed the other’s slouched posture and downcast expression. “Somethin’ wrong?” “What?” Caramel looked up, almost surprised. “No, no, everything’s fine. Totally fine... Why?” “Nothin’,” said Big Macintosh. If Caramel didn’t want to talk about it, he wouldn’t push it. Still... “How’s the new job goin’?” “Oh, it’s going okay,” said Caramel. “Simple stuff, pulling carts. You know the deal.” “Eeyup.” Caramel sighed. “Well...” Big Macintosh raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh?” “Earlier today, just before I got off my rounds, a mare walked up to me...” “Oh?” asked Big Macintosh. “She purty? Like what she see?” “Not exactly...” said Caramel, biting his lip. Macintosh put his menu down. “What happened?” “She said...” Caramel seemed uneasy, like it was hard for him to say it. “She told me...” “What did she say?” Caramel took a deep breath. “She told me that I shouldn’t have the job. She told me that the company only hired me so they could fill a quota, and because they did that, there’s a mare that can’t afford to feed her family.” He lowered his head. “And now I just feel awful.” “Hmmm...” Big Macintosh thought on it. “Do you know this mare?” “Huh?” Caramel asked. “No. Never seen her before. She just sorta... came out of nowhere.” “Well, I think it stands to reason that if you don’t know her, then she doesn’t know you.” Big Mac smiled at him. “And if she doesn’t know you, then I think anything she says about you doesn’t matter.” Caramel smiled weakly. “Thanks, Mac,” he said. “I think that helps.” “Don’t mention it.” And with that, Big Macintosh returned to his menu. After a few seconds of looking, he remembered that he’d already decided on a sunflower pie, but when he lowered the menu, he found that Caramel was gone. In his place was... Big Macintosh blinked. It was Applejack’s friend Pinkie Pie. Staring very expectantly at him. “...Hi...” “Hi!” said Pinkie Pie. “How ya doin’? Nice day?” Big Macintosh blinked again. “Eeyup.” “I just wanted to tell you I think it was super-duper of you to come to our picnic!” she asked, her seemingly perpetual yet oddly not-creepy smile still fixed to her face. “Um...” Big Macintosh had no idea if this was supposed to be the start of a conversation. Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie, there were numerous possibilities. Some of them were simple and innocent enough, and others were outright horrifying. “Thank y-” “And it got me thinking,” Pinkie Pie interrupted. “If you have to come along to our get-together, that might mean you didn’t have a get-together of your own, and if you don’t have a get-together of your own then you might not have a lot of friends!” Big Macintosh had by now spotted Caramel sitting at an adjacent table. The other stallion was looking around with a confused look on his face, as though he were trying to figure out how he had inexplicably come to his new seating arrangement. “Uhh...” said Big Macintosh. “So I was thinking,” continued Pinkie Pie, “we should be friends! Like, moreso! So tell ya what, why don’t you come over to Sugarcube Corner this Friday for a party!” “A... party?” “Well, sort of. You can have a party with only two ponies, right?” she asked. “Oh, silly me, I don’t need to ask! I know everything about parties!” She beamed. “So, what do you think? We could have a two-pony party?” Big Macintosh thought about it for a minute. As far as he’d attended them, Pinkie Pie’s parties were always fun, though there were usually plenty of other ponies there. Still, it gave him a chance to go out, and maybe it’d appease Granny Smith for the time being. “Eeyup.” “Fantastic!” cheered Pinkie Pie. “Well, see you on Friiidaaaay!” she sang as she bounded back off down the street. “Dude...” said Lyra, who had been staring at the whole proceeding. “You’re going on a date...” said Caramel. “With her.” “‘pparently...” said Big Macintosh.