//------------------------------// // The Comfy Chair // Story: Nopony Expects the Spanish Inquisition // by BrownDog77 //------------------------------// “Granny~ how many pictures did ya take at the reunion?” an exasperated Applejack asked her grandmother. The elderly green mare just looked at her granddaughter with a thoughtful look. “Ohhh…ah’d say about….2,563,” said Granny Smith to the shock on Applejack. “Why? Was it not enough?” Applejack looked at the living room table where if Granny Smith’s calculations were correct then over two and a half thousand photos sat, with some stacks going as high as the ceiling. “No Granny”, replied Applejack, “if anything, ah’d say it was overkill.” Today was going to be the day that both of them put together the latest Apple Family Reunion photo album. At the reunion, where they had raised the barn (1, 2, 3, 4,), each of the Apple siblings along with Granny Smith had been given a camera to capture all the moments they could. But it appeared that the old mare had outshined them all. “How’d you even manage to take all these here photos?” she asked in shock and amazement. “Well~ I put that camera do-hickey in front of mah face, then ah hit the button what captures the scene,” Granny replied matter-of-factly. Applejack rolled her eyes, she had walked right into that one. Regardless, the amount of photos was ginormous, and it didn’t even include the ones she, Big McIntosh and Applebloom had taken. “Shoot, we’re probably gonna need a bigger album…and the whole family to sort through this mess,” she said aloud to her grandma. “Aaahh Horse-Apples! You and me can get this done ourselves sugar cube with just one book,” she said with confidence, “let Bloom and Mac go play with their friends, this is our job.” “Wait, who’s Big Mac hanging around with? All his buddies are still at work,” she asked curiously. “Oh some mare or another, picnic ah think, but that’s his business, and this album is ours. Let’s get to it girl!,” she said with enthusiasm and ran, or rather hobbled over to the couch and sat down. As Applejack joined her on the couch with the stacks of pictures she let herself wonder who Big Mac’s special lady was. She decided to ask him later. “Good on him finding somepony,” she thought, “just as long as it ain’t one mah friends, else I’ll kill'em both.” She put these thoughts aside as the daunting task of sorting the army of pictures in front of her became her sole focus. Applejack grabbed about a hundred and sat them in her lap as Granny Smith did the same. The empty photo album sat between them waiting to be filled. “Alright let’s see here…” AJ mumbled as she picked up the first photo. “Here’s one of Uncle Apple Strudel,” she told her Granny. “Oh that’s nice, always good to see him,” the old mare smiled, “which one is it?” “Huh?” asked Applejack. “Which picture of Uncle Strudel is it?” Granny repeated. “Oh, well he’s standing in front of the barn,” replied AJ. “Oh that’s nice, put it in the album,” she commanded. Applejack placed said picture in a slot then moved onto her next photo which was…another picture of Uncle Apple Strudel standing in front of the barn. “Heh, must be a double print,” she thought to herself before looking at the next print which again showed Uncle Strudel in front of the barn, “What the?” The confused Applejack began flipping through her 100 stack and every single photo was of Apple Strudel in front of different portions of the barn. It was as if the photos were a film strip of Strudel slowly making progress. She turned to her elder, “Granny, all of these photos are just of Uncle Strudel in front of the barn!” “Well of course dearie,” Granny replied, “you picked up from the ‘Uncle Strudel in front of the barn’ stack.” Applejack turned from her Granny and started flipping through the stack where she had gotten the one hundred pictures from, and sure enough each one was of Strudel. The next stack over showed him in front of the roadside fence, and another around their biggest tree, and still another showed him in front of Applebloom’s clubhouse. She then looked at the pictures in Granny’s lap and saw that they too were of Uncle Strudel only the house was behind him. “Granny, did you only take photos of Uncle Strudel?” she asked frustratingly. “No don’t be silly Applejack, that stack there is of the barn raising,” she pointed to a stack of ten pictures on the corner of the table. Applejack facehoofed. All that film wasted just to chronicle Strudel’s very slow journey around Sweet Apple Acres. She sighed, “Granny, we only need one photo from each of these stacks, but the rest have got to go.” “Oh that’s a shame, Uncle Strudel sure did love posing for the camera,” Granny Smith said a bit sadly, “But if it’s only one picture from each stack, then we’ve got to find the best one, let’s start with the house first.” Applejack sighed once more in frustration. Before she sat down, she grabbed the kitchen wastebasket which was thankfully empty. There was gonna be a lot of paper filling it pretty soon. Applejack thought that perhaps they could use the discards as kindling for the fireplace so that they wouldn’t be a total waste of money. She sat down next to her grandmother once more. She noticed that Granny had already placed one photo of Strudel in front of the house in the album, so they were set. So that left all the other hundreds of photos, which her grandma decided to go through one at a time. “This is gonna be a long~ day,” Applejack thought to herself. Granny Smith then held up the first photo. “This is Uncle Strudel in front of the house,” she said as she handed the photo to Applejack her gaze still on the photos in her lap. Applejack tore the picture up and threw it in the basket. “This is Uncle Strudel at the back of the house,” again she handed the photo to Applejack who promptly tore it up before discarding it. “This is Uncle Strudel at the side of the house,” the picture was handed off, and was torn. “This is Uncle Strudel, back again in front of the house, but you can see the side of the house,” the oblivious mare continued on while Applejack repeated her process. “And this is Uncle Strudel even nearer to the side of the house, but you can still see the front,” hand off, tear, discard. “This is the back of the house, with Uncle Strudel coming around the side to the front,” second verse same as the first. “And this is the Spanish Inquisition hiding behind the Tool Shed,” Applejack was about to tear then realized what Granny Smith had said. She looked at the photo and Uncle Strudel was nowhere in sight, instead there were three stallions in red robes and strange hats peaking around the corner of their tool shed as the barn was being raised. “Oh, ah didn’t expect the Spanish Inquisition,” Applejack replied honestly. With this summoning call, the front door was thrown open, an ominous music tone was played, and the three red robed stallions ran into their living room stopping before them. “NOPONY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!!!” Applejack both startled and confused just shouted “What in Tarnation?!” “Ehhh, Whazat?” the elderly mare asked confusedly, though not startled at all. The leader in the big red hat spoke up to the two mares on the couch. “Old woman, you are accused of heresy and you must come with us for confession.” “What was that sonny? You’ll have to speak up, hearings gone south on me,” the old mare rubbed her ear trying to get sound into it, where had that deafening tone come from, “Dang kids and their music.” Applejack was just confused by the whole situation and just stared at them slack jawed. “Right, we will explain it to you later, now,” he turned to the one in the aviator helmet, “Cardinal Biggles,” he then turned to the one in the red hood, “Cardinal Fang, take the old woman.” The two then picked up Granny Smith and placed her on both of their backs. “Whoa, watch it there young man, my hip ain’t what she used to be,” the old pony scolded. Applejack broke out of her confused daze when they grabbed her grandma and she stood up to them. “Hey now, you put my Granny down this instant before I buck y’all where the sun don’t shine!” She shouted in anger. The Spanish Inquisition responded by pushing the many photos of Uncle Strudel onto Applejack who became buried immediately. “Right, that’s enough, quickly, let’s go!” Shouted the leader, and the three zealots with the old mare in tow fled the house. “Oh and clean up that mess Applejack,” Granny Smith called back. Applejack stuck her head out of the mountain of pictures with fury in her eyes. “Get back here with my Grandma!,” she shouted as she burst through the photos, scattering them everywhere and ran out the door. They were nowhere in sight. She saw hoof prints leading off into the orchard, so she followed them with speed that would make Rainbow Dash jealous. As she ran off into the sea of apple trees, the Spanish Inquisition stuck their heads out of the tool shed and sneered, they had doubled back, but they needed to do their business without that mare interfering. The leader in the hat turned toward Granny Smith who was now just being held up by her arms. “Right, Old Woman, we need a more secluded and quiet spot, preferable underground, where we may torture a confession out of you. Do you happen to have a dungeon nearby?” “Hmmmm…..,” she thought aloud, oblivious to the fact that the stallion had said torture, “Well we do have an apple cellar around by the barn, will that do?” “Yes perfect thank you.” the leader said sincerely before shouting, “To the cellar!” With this, the other two carried Granny Smith as they followed him to the apple cellar, cackling evilly the whole way. As they descended the stairs into the cellar, they took in their surroundings. There were barrels and barrels of apples and apple accessories. Against one of the walls were hooks which held chains neatly, and in the corner was a writing desk, most likely used for inventory, with a nice comfy looking chair in front of it. The three ponies smiled, this was a perfect room to get a confession in. They then “shackled” Granny Smith to the wall with the chains. If she wanted to she could easily get out of her “bonds” as all they did was wrap her two forelegs with a different chain three times. She wasn’t even hanging from the wall. “Now what’s going on here young man?” she asked the head zealot, the strangeness of the situation finally dawning on her. He in turn replied “Ha! Now old woman, you are accused of heresy on three counts. Heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action…,” he realized his mistake and added “Four counts. Do you confess?” Granny Smith was clearly confused by the stallion’s question, and the whole situation for that matter. “I don’t understand what ah’m accused of,” she replied. This caused the three fanatics to begin laughing in their Diabolical Laughter, before the leader spoke again. “Then we will make you understand!” He looked to the pony in the aviator helmet. “Biggles…Fetch…THE CUSHIONS!!!” An ominous tone followed this declaration and Granny Smith looked around for the source. Biggles then produced the two cushions from Rarity’s couch. This confused Granny Smith even more. “What they gonna do with them fancy pillows?” She thought to herself. “Here they are lord,” Biggles proclaimed. The leader then looked back at Granny Smith. “Now!..Old Lady, you have one last chance. Confess to the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the uncelestially,*two* last chances. And you shall be free, *three* last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.” Granny Smith didn’t understand a single word the stallion in the red hat said. It didn’t help that he spoke fast and kept correcting himself. “Ah don’t know what yer talking about dagnabit, slow down and say it again,” she replied frustrated. “Right! If that’s the way you want it…Cardinals! Poke her with the soft cushions!” Biggles handed a cushion to Fang and both took them in their mouths, all the while still sneering, and they began to poke Granny Smith with them. She just looked at them, she was now more confused than ever. “CONFESS!!! CONFESS!!! CONFESS!!!!” shouted the chief cardinal as they poked her. “Ummm…What the hay you colts doing?” she asked. “It doesn’t seem to be hurting her lord,” Biggles suddenly said and stopped his prodding. “Have you got all the stuffing up on one end?” asked the leader. “Yes Lord,” Biggles responded. The Cardinal leader then took Fang’s cushion and examined it in his hooves. He then looked at a confused Granny Smith again. “Hm!” He threw the cushion away and Biggles did the same. “She’s made of harder stuff. Cardinal Fang!” he said turning to the hooded pony, “Fetch…THE COMFY CHAIR!” The jarring music played again as a look of pure horror came over Fang’s face. “The…Comfy Chair?” he said in a terrified voice. Granny Smith couldn’t understand it, why would a pony be scared of something that sounded great for her aching legs? Despite his fear, the stallion grabbed the comfy chair by the desk and wheeled it over while Biggles “unchained” her. “Careful now, that’s my Grandson’s seat you got there,” the elderly mare scolded. “So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions?” he asked with malice. “Well, we shall see. Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair!” The helmeted stallion then pushed Granny Smith into the chair in a sitting position, much to the relief of her aching hooves. She sighed in relaxation a bit before the cardinal continued. “Now…You will stay in the comfy chair until lunch time, with only a cup of coffee at eleven!” “Well that sounds lovely, glad to see you boys finally gettin some manners aboutcha,” Granny Smith began to relax more. “This won’t be half bad, even with you brain damaged idjits here.” Sensing that this torture was a bit off, the leader turned to Biggles. “Is that really all it is?” he asked. “Yes Lord,” Biggles responded. “I see, I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, don’t we?” he said contemplatively. He then returned his attention back to Granny Smith. “Confess Woman,” he said calmly. She looked back up at him in exasperation. “What now?” she asked. He raised his voice. “Confess!” Granny Smith shrank into the couch a little scrunching her face at how loud he was yelling. “CONFESS!!! CONFESS!!! CONFESS!!!” “I Confess!” Biggles exclaimed in sorrow kneeling before both Granny Smith and his boss. “NOT YOU!!!” the leader said in anger and frustration. “Ah Confess!” A voiced shouted behind them, startling the Chief Cardinal. “Who Said That?” He shouted as he turned around. “Ah Confess…That I’m gonna kick all y’all’s skinny flanks down to Tartarus and back,” said Applejack as she stepped out of the darkness of the cellar with an evil grin on her face. “Oh Dear,” said the chief cardinal in fear. ONE INCREDIBLY BRUTAL FLANK KICKING LATER The bruised and battered stallions were all thrown in the dirt past the entrance to Sweet Apple Acres. “And ah don’t want to see either of y’all ever again near mah property or mah family! If ah do, then I won’t go so easy on ya next time,” Applejack snorted at them. “And stop playing your music so loud ya dang kids!” Granny Smith added for extra emphasis. Both Grandmother and Granddaughter walked back to the house. The events that transpired didn’t need analyzing by the two because A. They were still really weird and confusing, and they hurt just thinking about them, and B. Some Tail Whooping solved the whole problem in their opinion. “Let’s get back to the photo album Granny,” Applejack said with a smile. “Sounds good sugar cube,” Granny Smith replied cheerfully, “we still have to go through the stack of photos showing Uncle Strudel in front of the cow stables,” she added. Applejack rolled her eyes and just sighed. ______________________________________________________________________________________________ Out on the road the Spanish Inquisition began walking back into town, where they passed a confused Big McIntosh and Cheerilee who just stared at their strange clothes and bruised faces. “Let us go for some Spam, it’s always best for injuries,” said the leader in the hat. “But my lord, what if someone else says the line while we’re eating?” asked Biggles. “Come now, the episode is almost over, and we did our two bits, we can relax now,” their leader responded. “But supposing they do? We’d have to run real fast to get to them before the episode time slot ran out,” Fang added. “Nonsense, the only being that would do such a cruel thing would be a massive troll. And who could possibly be that trollific?” IN CANTERLOT “Hello my most faithful student, it’s a surprise seeing you here,” Celestia smiled at the entrance of the nervous looking Twilight Sparkle...