Chapter 3:
Panic Nonpareil
Braeburn awoke at the crack of dawn bright eyed and bushy tailed. He got up off of the couch and stretched himself out.
"Mmm~! Nothing like a good night's sleep," he said to himself. "I wonder what shenanigans those young'uns will get up to today."
He then marched upstairs and opened the door. "Alright, y'all! Up an'... At 'em?"
When he turned on the light, he was perplexed to discover that the Cutie Mark Crusaders were not in bed. His confused frown slowly turned into a knowing smirk.
"Looks like Hide 'n Seek is the first order of business today," he said. "Alright, young'uns! I'm game! Ready or not, here I come!"
He then proceeded to look around the bedroom for the missing fillies. He looked under the bed, in the closet, and even in all of Sweetie Belle's suitcases. However, he couldn't find any of them.
"Huh. I guess they snuck somewhere else," he mused. "Well, they couldn't 'ave left the house, so I reckon this won't take long."
Alas, he couldn't be more wrong. He scoured the entire house from top to bottom, but didn't see hide nor hair of the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
"Apple Bloom? Sweetie Belle? Scootaloo? Babs?" he called out as he checked different parts of the house. "Alright, y'all. This ain't funny anymore..."
Once he finished searching the house, he noticed that his door was left ajar. His eyes went wide.
"Oh no," he said with a sense of dread. "They didn't. They couldn't have."
He cautiously opened the door and peeked outside. Running across the ground were several sets of tracks made by wheels. He then remembered what Scootaloo said about her scooter and wagon the night before, and his eye twitched.
"Aw, horse apples on toast!" he cried, smacking his forehead with his hoof. "I didn't think they'd be this much trouble! What in tarnation were they thinkin'?!"
With a strained sigh, he took a look at the tracks and saw that they led to the apple orchard.
"I guess I'll have to ask 'em when I find 'em," he said, running off at full gallop. "Consarnit, Apple Bloom. Didn't ya promise me and Applejack that you'd be on your best behavior? Ugh..."
***
The trail led straight into the orchard, following the trail that the buffalo usually took. In his haste, Braeburn didn't notice that Little Strongheart was running up beside him.
"Good morning, Braeburn!" she said cheerfully, straining her voice over the thundering of hooves. "Out for a morning run?!"
"Sorry, Little Strongheart! No time to chat!" said Braeburn.
Little Strongheart tilted her head. "Is something the matter?" she asked.
"I already told ya, Little Strongheart! I can't talk right now!" said Braeburn, increasing his speed.
Little Strongheart increased her speed and easily matched him. "Is this about those salesponies that just arrived today?!"
"Little Strongheart, I said not—"
Braeburn suddenly stopped dead in his tracks at the end of the orchard. He saw that the wheel tracks were heading off into the desert. His eye twitched again.
"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me!" he exclaimed.
"Kidding you?" inquired Little Strongheart, slowing down herself. "Braeburn, what's going on?"
Braeburn sighed. "Well, remember those fillies I was lookin' after yesterday?"
"Yes?"
"Well, they're gone!"
Little Strongheart gasped. "Goodness! What could've happened to them?"
"I don't know!" Braeburn growled in frustration. "They must've gotten some wild idea in their heads an' run off somewheres! Trouble is I don't know where!"
"Well, maybe I can help you look for them," said Little Strongheart. "Do you think they're here in the orchard?"
"Not anymore they ain't," said Braeburn with a snort. "Look here."
He pointed to the wheel tracks in the ground. Little Strongheart looked where he pointed and furrowed her brow.
"Hmm," she said, kneeling down close to the tracks and observing them from every angle.
"What the hay are you doin'?" Braeburn asked.
"Shh," Little Strongheart hissed tersely. "I'm trying to figure something out."
"Well, don't take too long!" yelled Braeburn. "Do ya know what my cousin Applejack's gonna do to me if she finds out I let her little sister and all her friends run off into the desert?! I gotta go after them!"
"I would not recommend that," said Little Strongheart, her attention still fixated on the ground.
Braeburn stared at Little Strongheart as if she had three heads. "Why the hay not?!" he screamed.
"These tracks aren't fresh," said Little Strongheart, standing up. "They passed this spot well before sunrise. Seeing as they have a massive head start, even the fastest of buffalo would have difficulty catching up to them on hoof."
Braeburn obscured his eyes with his hat. "Well, that's just peachy. What are we supposed to do now?!"
Little Strongheart raised an eyebrow. "We? Braeburn, I'd love to help you, but I actually have a busy day today. These salesponies just came into town, and..."
"We've got four fillies runnin' off into the desert, gettin' themselves lost no doubt, an' you're worried about salesponies?!" Braeburn roared.
"Braeburn, calm down," Little Strongheart said sternly. "You know I have a duty to my tribe, and Chief Thunderhooves especially. I can't just ignore that."
The name of Chief Thunderhooves made something click in Braeburn's brain. His eyes then narrowed.
"All the more reason you're helpin' me, Little Strongheart," he snarled, staring Little Strongheart in the eye. "I reckon those fillies ran off because Chief Thunderhooves filled their heads with that Dragon Magi nonsense."
Little Strongheart snorted. "Don't blame this on the Chief, Braeburn," she said firmly, standing her ground. "There's no way he could've known this would happen. Besides, it's just a story. No one actually believes it anymore."
"Well, my cousin apparently does, an' so do her little friends," Braeburn retorted. "Listen, you know the desert better than I do, an' I'm not all that familiar with anyone else in your tribe. I could really use your help on this one."
"And like I said, I'd really like to help you," said Little Strongheart. "But I still have to help with the negotiations between the buffalo tribe and those salesponies."
"Would you shut up about the salesponies for a second?!" Braeburn groaned. "What's so special 'bout them, anyways?!"
"Well, from what I understand, they came into town just before dawn riding this odd, contraption," said Little Strongheart. "I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. Anyway, they said they want access to the apple orchard, and..."
"Hold on there, Little Strongheart," interrupted Braeburn. "What's this 'bout a contraption?"
"Again, I'm not sure how to describe it. It's like nothing I've ever seen before," said Little Strongheart. "It's almost like a train without tracks."
Braeburn's eyes lit up. "Where are these salesponies now?"
"They're meeting with Sheriff Silverstar in the town square. After that, I'm supposed to take them to Chief Thunderhooves." said Little Strongheart. "Why?"
"'Cause I reckon they're gonna be takin' a little detour," said Braeburn. "C'mon!"
Before Little Strongheart could protest, Braeburn galloped away. She sighed.
"The Chief is not going to like this," she muttered before chasing after Braeburn.
***
"I'm telling you, Mr. Silverstar, this is the deal of a lifetime! If you allow us to set up shop here, Appleloosa is sure to profit immensely!"
When Braeburn arrived at the town square, he was astonished by what he saw. Towering over Sheriff Silverstar was a large transport that was as radiant as a red delicious apple in the noonday sun. It had a cowcatcher in the front, a platform just behind the cowcatcher, some sort of glass dome in the middle, and several other mechanical parts that he couldn't really describe. Standing on the platform were a pair of unicorns dressed in blue-and-white striped suits and straw hats. One of the unicorns had a mustache and a Cutie Mark depicting an apple with a missing slice. The other was clean-shaven, and had a Cutie Mark that appeared to be the missing slice of the aforementioned apple.
"I still don't know, fellas," said Sheriff Silverstar, stroking his chin. "Our orchard is very important to the town. We can't let jus' anypony have access to it."
"You're missing out on a fine opportunity, Mr. Silverstar," said the mustachioed salespony. "Our apple cider is the best in Equestria, and we can produce it faster than anypony else."
"But we don't seem to be gettn' much out of this deal," said Silverstar skeptically.
"Besides an increase in tourism?" said the clean-shaven salespony.
"And twenty five percent of the profits," the mustachioed salespony added.
"Why only twenty five percent? You're usin' our apples, which, by the way, we need to live."
"Well, we're entitled to some form of compensation," said the clean-shaven salespony with a sly smirk.
Braeburn snorted in disgust just as Little Strongheart caught up to him.
"These two the salesponies you were talkin' about?" he asked.
"Well, yes," said Little Strongheart. "Why?"
"These two are the shadiest characters I've ever laid eye on. They jus' said they wanted to use our apples jus' to rake in most of the profits," Braeburn growled. "I don't trust these ponies any farther than I can throw 'em."
Little Strongheart knitted her brow. "Maybe we'd be saving them by asking for their help. If they tried that on Chief Thunderhooves, he'd have the entire tribe trample their contraption until it was nothing but scrap."
Braeburn sighed. "I don't like it, but they've got the only mode of transport that can possibly catch up to the fillies. We don't have any other options at this point."
"I suppose not," said Little Strongheart.
The two then shared a nod and trotted up to the salesponies. Braeburn cleared his throat.
"Um, excuse me..."
"Ah, perfect! Seems we have a a couple of volunteers for a little demonstration," said the mustachioed salespony.
"What? No, you don't understand. I..."
"Oh, don't be so modest," said the clean-shaven pony with a chuckle. "I'm sure you want to show the fine Sherif here what a valuable asset we would be to the town of Appleloosa. Here, our card."
He then reached into his pocket and gave Braeburn a little business card.
"'FlimFlam Brothers: Traveling Salesponies Non-par-eel?'" he said, trying to read the card.
"Nonpareil," the clean-shaven salespony corrected. "It means without compare. And I'm assure you that we live up to that name. Isn't that right, Flam?"
"Indeed it is, Flim," said Flam. "Now then, how would you like to try a sample of our one-of-a-kind cider?"
"Actually, we have a problem that only you two can solve," said Little Strongheart.
Flim smiled. "Ah, yes. Well, we know what'll fix up that dry throat of yours."
"It ain't a dry throat, ya drips," Braeburn snapped. "Listen, a few young fillies have gotten themselves lost in the desert, and..."
"Oh, kids these days. Tsk tsk," said Flam, shaking his head. "They just go running off, thinking they can do just about anything."
"It's sad indeed, dear brother," said Flim, taking off his hat in reverence. "Very sad indeed. You have our deepest sympathies, good stallion."
"Look, would you two just listen?" Braeburn growled. "Those fillies are out there somewhere, an' we need that fancy-shmacy transport of yours to catch up to 'em."
Flam raised an eyebrow. "Now look here, my good stallion. The Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 is not a rescue vehicle. It is meant for creating tasty, refreshing cider for everypony in Equestria."
"Hold on there, brother of mine," said Flim, stroking his chin. "I think we can turn this into a golden opportunity."
"Are you sure, Flim?" asked Flam. "What about our deal with the Appleloosans?"
"I'm, not sure we're winning them over, brother," said Flim. "Then again, maybe they heard about what happened in Ponyville."
"What? What happened in Ponyville?" asked Sheriff Silverstar.
"Um, nothing! Nothing at all!" said Flam with a nervous laugh. He then drew his brother in close. "Careful, Flim! We promised ourselves never to bring that up!"
"So sorry, Flam. Slip of the tongue," said Flim. "Still, I think we can help this stallion find his fillies. We are businessponies after all, and he's offering us his business."
Flam's lips curled into a small smile. "You are a genius, brother of mine!" he said excitedly. The two of them then straightened up and addressed Braeburn.
"After much discussion, my brother and I have decided to give you a lift on the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000," said Flam.
Braeburn breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank ya kindly, gentlecolts. Boy, I guess I misjudged you," he said as he made his way towards the transport. "Alright, let's..."
"Hold your horses, good stallion," said Flim, raising his hoof. "The ride will cost you one hundred bits."
"ONE HUNDRED BITS?!" Braeburn exclaimed, his hat flying off his head as he recoiled in shock. "That's robbery!"
"No, my friend. It's simply business," said Flam with a shrug. "We are businessponies, after all."
"But I don't have that kind of money!" Braeburn shouted.
"Well, your loss then," said Flim. "Good day, sir." They then began to turn back to Silverstar.
"Wait!" said Braeburn. "How 'bout fifty bits now, an' fifty when we get back?"
"You're in no position to haggle, good stallion," said Flam. "One hundred bits, take it or leave it."
Little Strongheart placed a hoof to her chin and pondered for a moment. "Wait," she said. "You said you made apple cider, correct?"
"The best in Equestria, good madam," gushed Flim. "Of course, we can't make it without any apples."
"Then how about fifty bits now, and five bushels of apples when we get back?" said Little Strongheart. "Courtesy of Chief Thunderhooves, if that's alright with you, Sherif Silverstar."
"If you can convince the Chief, I'm certainly not against it," said Silverstar with a shrug. "Though I still think those two should be helpin' ya out free of charge."
"You'll get no argument from me," said Little Strongheart. "But, we'll work with what we have." She then turned back to the FlimFlam Brothers. "So, what is your answer?"
The FlimFlam Brothers huddled together and whispered to each other for a time. Finally, they turned back.
"You've got yourself a deal, madam," said Flam. "Hop aboard."
"You're a real lifesaver, Little Strongheart," said Braeburn, paying Flim the fifty bits as he and Little Strongheart got onto the platform.
"We must be off, good Sheriff. No hard feelings," said Flam. "Perhaps we can do business another time. For now, consider this a missed opportunity on your part. Let's go, Flim!"
"Let's go, Flam!" said Flim.
With that, they used their magic to power up the engine of their transport, and it began to move.
"I hope they haven't gotten too far," Braeburn mumbled, obscuring his eyes with his hat. "Applejack's gonna kill me..."