“More tea Mr. Peppermill?” Pinkie Pie, in a top hat and monocle, waved the teapot in front of the sullen colt. Peppermill, in a derby (not by his own choice, but having to follow the apparent formal dress rule enforced by the Element of Laughter) sighed.
“Yes…please…” The grey chef watched as the pink mare poured him a measure of green tea into his cup. He glanced around Pinkie’s bedroom, the place he had been spending a considerable amount of time lately. This was due to the fact that it proved to be the one place where Applebloom could not seem to find him. Whether it was because she didn’t think Peppermill would hide in such a random place or that she simply wasn’t trying that hard was unimportant. All Peppermill needed right now was time to think about the problem at hoof.
Of course when you found yourself surrounded by inanimate objects plus one baby alligator having green tea and ginger snap cookies with a certified party animal, trying to focus was rather trying…
“Was it…something I said? I’m positive I…didn’t say anything…like I was better than her…” Peppermill had found that for the last few days he had been spending with Pinkie Pie that she seemed content to let him vent his frustrations rather than offer advice. In truth, the mare seemed more interested in having small talk with the other ‘guests’ around the table.
“It’s always sad when brothers and sister fight, isn’t it Rocky?” questioned Pinkie of a small pile of stones with a party hat on top.
“Yeah, it’s a cryin’ shame.” The fact that Pinkie was nudging the pile, performing a rather questionable ventriloquist act and using an accent that reminded the colt of his cousin Babs Seed was devoutly ignored. Peppermill had seen and heard enough about his eccentric friend not to be completely freaked out by it. At least her…mane isn’t all flat like…how Rainbow warned me about…
“It’s not my fault…I am used to…strange foods. Well, strange…for a pony at…any rate.”
“You mean like zee hot sauce on zee cupcakes mon petite?” questioned Madam Le Flour.
“No, I think…even I wouldn’t be able…to deal with that.” Peppermill took a half-hearted nibble of his cookie. Not even his favorite Pinkie Pie baked good could shake him from his gloom. Pinkie, who had been staring at the colt for a few moments, suddenly gave a big sigh. She removed her top hat and monocle, placed her forehooves onto either side of the colt’s face and stared hard into his face.
“Peppy, I know that there is nothing you could ever do to make Applebloom hate you.”
“Well, then…what exactly is making her…bring all this suffering…on herself?” demanded the colt.
“Hmm…” For a few seconds, Pinkie’s face went blank in thoughts. The fact that she continued to hold the colt’s face in a rather tight grip was unnerving, if not completely unexpected. In an attempt to break her out of her thoughts, the colt spoke up.
“Scootaloo mentioned…something to me…the other day about…it being about being…a big sister.”
“Of course!” The exclamation came so suddenly that Peppermill found himself knocked backwards onto the floor. Before he could regain his composure, the mare was looming over him with a triumphant grin. “It’s about being the absolute bestest big sister in the history of big sisters! It’s so obvious!”
“Obvious?” groaned the chef skeptically.
“Ever since you became the youngest Apple, Applebloom has wanted nothing more than to be as good of an older sister to you as Applejack, right?”
“Yes…”
“And whenever she does anything she can’t stand to lose or fail or anything like that, right?”
“She gets that…from Applejack…”
“And,” Pinkie’s face turned into a sad smile, “she does end up not succeeding she tends to get really, really unhappy. Kind of like a certain colt I know…”
“Oh…bother…” The realization of the truth hit the colt in the heart like a tenderizing mallet. He was well aware of his tendency to become upset with himself whenever he failed at something, and he also knew just how depressed Applebloom could get after a failed cutie mark crusade. “But…but she’s a great older sister. I mean…yes she can be…a bit over-protective at times…”
“She is like that because she doesn’t want to see you get hurt. But…”
“But…?”
“It can be kind of tough when your younger sibling seems to be so good and you aren’t, you know? Like, how the little sister gets her cutie mark for making ponies happy but your older ones can’t seem to find theirs and then they get all angry and…what’s the word, resentful?” There was a genuine hurt behind the mare’s baby blue eyes which surprised the colt. Maybe Pinkie…does understand more…than she lets on…
“I do know…how that is like. I know all…too well.” A sudden, horrifying thought caused the colt to throw off the mare and leap to his hooves. “No…no no no! I am not…going to have a…repeat of Saltpeter! I…I…” The colt’s frantic panic was silence emphatically by Pinkie pouncing on him once again, this time shoving a pink hoof firmly on his mouth.
“No! Bad Peppy! Sit! Heel!”
“Humph?”
“Applebloom will never, ever be like your Meany McMeanpants brother. But getting upset isn’t going to help. You have to be calm and, well…mature. You are really good at that, just like you are really good at cooking. You of all ponies know that there is nothing a young pony wants more than anything is to be treated like a mature adult.” The mare carefully removed her hoof, ready to practically lie on top of the colt to keep him from over-reacting again. But she didn’t need to worry, for Peppermill’s face took on a serious cast.
“I understand now…I know what I have…to do. Thank you Pinkie…”
“You are very welcome Peppy.” The colt picked himself up off of the floor, took a cleansing breath, and left the mare’s room. For a while there was silence as Pinkie seemingly stared off into space. Then she brightened up as she faced Gummy.
“That’s a super duper fabulous idea Gummy! I really should write a letter home and tell Inky and Blinky how much I appreciate them!”
***
Meanwhile…
“Are you really sure about this Applebloom? It would be a whole lot smarter to start off with something considerably less spicy…”
“Nothing doin’ Silver Spoon. Ah aims ta try the hottest ya got. Ahm gonna prove to Peppermill I ken take it.” The two very different young fillies sat in the extravagant bedroom of the daughter of the second richest family in Ponyville. Silver Spoon, having been enlisted against her better judgement into the Apple filly’s personal quest to toughen up her tummy, looked decidedly nervous.
The grey filly knew fully well why she had been approached by Applebloom, and it wasn’t entirely because it involved her close friend Peppermill. Silver Spoon was considered by more and more ponies as a gourmet prodigy, and her incredible sense of taste was steadily becoming more and more respected. She was probably the only other pony in the vicinity next to the Apple colt that had experience with more…exotic foods.
“I just want to be on record as saying I am totally against this.” reminded Silver Spoon of her friend for perhaps the sixth time that afternoon. Having spent most of her young life actively trying new and different foods, most not typically consumed by a herbivore, she knew fully well it took years to develop the stomach for them. But Applebloom, as always, had little patience for that sort of thing. And just because she had the prodigious strength to out-buck (and outfight) any other pony her age, colt or filly, didn’t acquaint to a strong constitution food-wise.
Even so, Applebloom had decided to try and deal with her food issues from a different direction, namely in regards to spice and heat. Most ponies tended to be adverse to hot and spicy foods, yet Peppermill and Silver Spoon (and even Pinkie Pie) seemed to be able to handle all sorts of fancy peppers that tended to be shipped from other parts of Equestria. And as much as Silver Spoon had begged and pleaded for the yellow filly to start off easy, the infamous Apple stubbornness and Applebloom`s natural impatience had her going to the top of the Scoville scale right off the bat.
“All right Applebloom. This is what we call a Serrano pepper. For all intents and purposes this is a middle-of-the-road hot pepper. This is the only one I am willing to let you try, and no amount of threats is going to change that.” The grey filly motioned to a mound of long, red peppers sitting on a expensive-looking (naturally) dish.
“Ah remember Peppermill telling me that the smaller the pepper, the hotter it is, right?”
“That is true. There are smaller and hotter peppers than this. You also have to understand that the heat comes from the white seeds and other stuff inside the pepper itself. The red part is actually quite tasty.”
“Ah ain’t here fer taste, ahm here fer heat. Hoof it over…” With a sigh, Silver Spoon gently pushed the plate of peppers to the yellow filly. For a long moment Applebloom studied her vegetable adversary. Then, to Silver’s surprise she grabbed one by its stem between her forehooves and held it over her head.
“I hope you don’t think that Peppermill’s sardine system is going to work with peppers.” the wealthy filly quipped.
“Shush! Ahm tryin’ to concentrate.” Silver clamped her mouth shut and watched at the pepper hung over Applebloom’s head almost ominously.
…and waited…
…and waited…
…
…
…
“It’s going to stay just as hot no matter how long you wait…”
“Ah…cain’t…do it.” With a growl the Apple filly slammed the pepper down onto the table. It wasn’t so much the pulped pepper that drew a bead of sweat down Silver’s neck as it was the very noticeable crack in the solid wooden surface of the table under the yellow filly’s hoof. I suppose I should be glad it was the pepper and not my head… she thought nervously. The silence in the room, as Applebloom trembled put Silver’s teeth on edge. It was only when Applebloom’s withers finally slumped down and a look of utter defeat on her face struck the filly hard.
“Ahm…ahm sorry fer getting’ you into this Silver. And, ahm sorry about the mess…and the table ah guess…” The sorrow in the filly’s eyes was far more distressing than any amount of rage, and Silver wanted in the worst way to try and comfort her friend. But before she could do so the apple pony trudged out of the room.
“Oh Applebloom…”