Chapter 2 - Even the Soap Tastes Like Apples
I must not have been out for very long. I came to with Applejack’s worried muzzle pressed close enough to mine that I had to wonder if my dreams had taken a turn for the better. “Apple Bloom, are you alright?” she demanded as she gripped my shoulders, her frightened voice snapping me out of my dirty pony fantasies. That was right – I’m supposed to be a horse now.
“Now now, sugarplum, everythin’ is going to be just fine.” Despite my assumptions to the contrary, Applejack’s calm words and loving tone had a positive effect on my fragile state of mind. She pulled me into a warm hug and nuzzled my cheeks, which made me tingle and smile in ways that were embarrassing to admit as a twenty-six year old man, but didn’t seem out of place for a little prepubescent mare.
Still, it wasn’t that much help, all things considered. I was trapped in the small, feeble body of a redneck pony with a speech impediment. It wasn’t bad enough that whatever had sent me here had stripped me of my humanity – it had stripped me of my masculinity as well. No amount of strangely comforting hugs was going to make that any more tolerable.
Especially when everything still smelled of fucking apples! Jesus Christ, it’s like they bathed in the stuff. The scent poured off of Applejack’s mane in waves, almost enough to make me gag. I pushed back against the older mare, trying to put some room between us.
“Okay, fine! Just please, git off me!” I gasped, desperate to fill my lungs with air not tainted with the nauseating aroma of fruit.
She must have mistaken my desire for fresh air for the protests of a child uncomfortable with familial affection. Taking a few steps back she grinned down at me. “You had me scared there, Apple Bloom. Are you feelin’ better?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” I grumbled as I attempted to stand. It wasn’t really a lie – I didn’t feel like I was about to pass out again, although my headache was back in full pulsating glory – but the less I argued with her, the better. I needed to find a way out of here – fast. And my first choice of just sleeping until things stopped bothering me wasn’t going to work. Rising on my unsteady feet... hooves... whatever, I glanced up at Applejack. “So, uh, what are we supposed to do now?”
She gave me another appraising look. “Well, as long as you’re sure you’re okay, we’re gonna go have breakfast.”
My stomach rumbled at the mentioning of food. A good greasy meal usually did wonders for my hangovers – or at least, that’s the excuse I gave myself whenever I went to go pig out on fast food. “That sounds fine. Just please tell me that bacon’s on the menu.”
Applejack blinked. “What’s bacon?”
I groaned. That’s right; they’re a bunch of hippy vegetarians. “Nothin’. It’s... nothin’. Just show me to the bathroom, ’cause ah have t’ piss like a racehorse,” I stated as I clumsily made my way forward, my eyes locked firmly on each hoof as I tried to walk. Still, no point in getting them too worked up now. I might still need their help. I could have my fun telling them how to make sausages after I found out what I’d need to get home.
My unsteady steps were interrupted when my head smacked into Applejack’s chest. I glanced up to tell her off for getting in my way, but I wilted beneath her furious glare. “Apple Bloom!” she declared, sounding impossibly maternal to my young – and disgustingly flexible – ears, which involuntarily flattened against my head. I took a step back, my eyes widened in alarm.
“I... uh...”
“We do not use such language in this house, missy!”
I blinked. “What, piss?” Her eyes narrowed, and I winced. “Uh, ah mean, sure, ah won’t say it again.” She continued to stare expectantly at me. “What?”
“And what do we say when we say something naughty?” she prompted me, reminding me too much of my mother for comfort’s sake.
“Uh...” I glanced around. “Ahm... sorry?”
She nodded, her anger evaporating. “Good girl. Now, ah know you had a bit of a bad dream, but ah think it’s best if you get washed up before breakfast. A good hearty meal will get you feelin’ right as rain.”
I couldn’t argue with that – I really did have to take a piss. What’s that old joke: you don’t buy beer, you only rent it? Either way, I slowly made my way after the larger horse, more than a little surprised at how easily I was handling the whole ‘walk on four legs’ routine. It was coming quite naturally to me, which was a relief. I really didn’t want to have to spend my first day in Equestria falling flat on my face.
I rubbed my sore and bloody nose. Well, falling flat on my face again, at any rate.
Once out in the hallway Applejack turned to head down the stairs, flashing me a reassuring smile before descending. “Wait!” I called out. Something of my desperation must have come through as she jerked her head back to give me a worried look. “What? What’s wrong?”
I gestured at all the other doors around me. “Where’s the bathroom?” Her eyes narrowed. With a soft huff she turned back and vanished from sight again. “Fine, be a bitch,” I grumbled beneath my breath, turning to look at the other doors around me. Being a small child made them look positively intimidating, although I was at least old enough to reach the door handles on my own. Well, there wasn’t anything else I could do but try each of them.
The less I say about going to the bathroom as a mare, the better. Most of my life has been a series of terrible fates befalling an innocent man, so I shouldn’t have been surprised by the latest attempt to ruin what little life I had, but being forced to do my business not only as a girl, but as a horse, was the crowning moment of crap. It had lots of competition too: forgetting my first sexual experience’s name; being too fat to fit in a costume for a play right before going onstage; trying to pass my finals while stuck in an apartment with no internet or power; the list is near endless.
Fate is a cruel mistress, and I am her much abused gimp.
After managing to take care of my needs with a modicum of my dignity intact, I left the bathroom in a foul mood. Still, the time spent alone trying not to think about what I was doing had given me a chance to ponder the strange situation I found myself in. Most Bronies would have been shitting themselves in excitement if they had woken wearing a pony like a living suit.
I am not most Bronies.
Sure, I love the show, but I never spent much time fantasizing about what it would be like to live in Equestria. Especially not stuck in the body of a pint-sized mongoloid like Apple Bloom. Once I had found the bathroom, I had spent five minutes doing nothing but staring at myself in the mirror, examining my new form, and it had left me repulsed. Sure, Apple Bloom was cute – but cuteness is best approached from a distance, where you are free to d’aww at will. I didn’t get to enjoy looking at a cute filly; instead, I was stuck in the body of a tiny little short-limbed redneck pony who couldn’t say ‘Siamese’ without offending someone.
Being a pony is like being around young children. When they’re someone else's kids, you get to enjoy the adorable little shit-stains and their pointless frolicking, but you don’t have to put up with cleaning diapers or listening to them scream nine hours out of ten. Anyone who was watching me got to see a cute adorable little Apple Bloom; I was stuck with the short legs and lack of opposable thumbs. In fact, parents had it better, because at least they got to fuck someone once before they had their life turned to shit. I got nothing but a hangover and a bloody nose.
My life sucks, pony or not, but my current predicament only increased the suckage to levels previously unrecorded by man. Just about the only thing that has ever really made it more palatable was booze, and the odds of a young foal finding alcohol in Equestria was remote at best.
“God, ah could use a drink,” I told the disgruntled looking Apple Bloom in the mirror. I nodded in agreement before turning to leave. Part of me wanted to try and look on the bright side of things.
“It could be worse,” it said, desperate to turn my frown into a smile. “Sure, it might just be a dream, but then, why not enjoy it while you can? You can do all that fun stuff they always show in the... show. Like, why not go crusadin’ for a cutie mark? Or go to Sugarcube Corner and get Pinkie Pie to throw you a party? The sky’s the limit, Derek. Carpe diem; go out there and seize the day!”
At which point I throttled my optimism and beat him to death with my own burning hate.
Breakfast in the Apple family was a trial in itself. Knowing the show and its penchant for cliches and obvious jokes, I was prepared for a meal centered around that most obvious of fruits, the humble apple. What I wasn’t expecting was a meal consisting only of apples. Apple pies, apple flakes, apple crumbles, apple crisps, apple juice, and even – I shit you not – a salt-shaker like device filled with small bits of dried apples.
I’ll be the first to admit that I actually like apples. Apple pie is the best pie there is, bar none; you lemon meringue assholes don’t know what a real dessert should be! But even living on the diet of a proud bachelor – 50% beef jerky, 50% stale beer – I still expect some kind of variety in what I eat. Instead, I was presented with an explosion of apple-related foods that made my stomach grumble in protest.
“Come on, Apple Bloom,” said Applejack, gesturing at the table’s open seat. “Breakfast is gettin’ cold.”
“What a shame...” I grumbled as I stared up at my chair, trying to work out the mechanics of how, exactly, I was supposed to get up into a chair designed for people. Which was one of my biggest complaints about the show – everything being designed with humans in mind. It made sense for a cartoon, so everything was easily recognizable for their target demographic of ‘small children and retards’, but it didn’t make an ounce of sense in real life. And don’t get me started on doorknobs! The idea of all non-unicorns being forced to open doors with their mouths was so ri-god-damn-diculous that it honestly made me angry. Nothing like watching patients and doctors slobbering over the same doorknobs to make you wonder how ponykind didn’t perish at the hands of simple disease a long time ago.
“Apple Bloom, do you need any help?”
“No. Ah got this,” I retorted as I prepared myself for a jump. Like hell I was going to let my ego suffer any more at the hands of some multi-colored magical ponies. Shaking my rear a little bit to improve my aim, I made a blind leap of faith. The impact of my belly on the hard wooden chair was enough to knock the wind out of me, but my wildly flailing legs found purchase and I managed to pull myself up into the seat. “Ha!” I declared, giving the other ponies a victorious smirk.
Granny Smith evidently didn’t hear me, lost as she was in another impromptu nap, while Big Mac and Applejack just stared back at me. They tried to hide their amusement as they glanced at each other, which quickly soured my sense of success. “Yeah, well, ah can’t be amazin’ all the time,” I snapped as I eyed the food laid out on the table.
“Bloom had a nightmare and hit her head,” Applejack explained when Big Mac gave me an odd look. I ignored them as I tried to figure out which of the apple-related foods I could most stomach. I really couldn’t care less if they thought I was acting odd from a dream, or from head trauma. I didn’t plan on being here any longer than I had to. Deciding to settle on something that looked like a breakfast cereal, I poured myself a bowl and splashed milk all over the mix. I created a big milky mess, which Applejack told me off for, but I ignored her – something I planned on doing a lot of.
After getting over the surprise of being able to hold a spoon with a hoof – I couldn’t explain the mechanics of it if I tried – I took a big heaping spoonful and shoved it into my mouth. I chomped and crunched my way through the mess, letting out a groan when I finally made sense of the taste. Dried apple flakes – I figured as much.
I got another telling off for my rude behavior, but I ignored it as well, doing my best to polish off my bowl. It wasn’t that it was bad tasting – they were pretty good, for what they were – or that I was that hungry. But I know my body, and the best thing I can do for a hangover is feed my gut something. And the sooner I finished my meal, the sooner I could escape hillbilly hell. Apple Bloom might not be worst pony, but she was damned close. Hopefully I could find something remotely entertaining to do for the day. Well, as long as I avoided that other group of Down’s Syndrome dumbasses Apple Bloom routinely hung out with. If I were to milk any enjoyment out of my (hopefully brief) time in Equestria, I was going to have to avoid those two like the plague.
As I finished my breakfast, I was actually starting to look forward to the day – wondering where that mare Berry Punch was hanging out and hoping I could score some hooch from her – when fate once again reared its ugly head and decided to crush my fleeting moment of happiness. “So, Apple Bloom,” my ‘sister’ began, her artificially calm and level tone setting off alarm bells in my head, “ah was thinking that, since you had a rough start to the day ‘n all, why don’t you just go on and have a little fun while me an’ Mac take care of your chores?”
I nodded. “Sounds good t’ me,” I replied. It wasn’t like I was going to lift a fucking finger for these inbreds anyway, but now at least my laziness would be officially sanctioned. The less yelling at I had to put up with, the better.
“But since you’re feeling kinda down, ah was thinkin’ that perhaps you should head on over to go see your friends Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. You know, spend some time with your friends and take it easy, see if that don’t help you get back to bein’ yourself.”
And with those two sentences, my dreams of being left in glorious solitude were banished instantly. “Well, shit.”
“What did you just say?” Applejack exploded, her sudden outburst enough to wake Granny Smith out of her near-death catatonia. Even the normally stoic Big Mac was glaring at me, a look of intense displeasure etched into his features. In an instant I felt three inches tall.
“I, uh, um, uh...” My mouth worked uselessly as I tried to come up with some sort of excuse, but my glorious brain betrayed me. Part of me wondered why I was so upset about what I had said: what did I care what these ponies thought of my vocabulary? They’re fucking horses.
I smacked that part upside the head as I watched with naked fear as Applejack came stomping around the table with a look of grim reproach. Too late, my legs sprung to life, desperate to put some distance between me and the avatar of familial disapproval, but I was helpless as Applejack roughly yanked me out of my chair and pulled me to another bathroom by my fucking ear.
I’ve always prided myself on the ability to swear like a sailor and make a marine blush, and let me tell you; I think what I said then was hot enough to melt steel. Equestria had never known its like, before or since. I’m surprised the cartoon horses didn’t combust beneath its terrible onslaught. My litany of curses and expletives was only silenced when the furious Applejack roughly shoved a bar of soap into my mouth, a fate I had not suffered in two decades.
And the soap tasted like fucking apples.
Still, despite the shame of being treated like a little child and being at the mercy of rednecks less intelligent than my missing testicles, I managed to keep my cool and hold onto my masculinity. It probably didn’t help my case that I continued to swear at her throughout the proceedings which, in retrospect, only prolonged my suffering. Still, I stayed strong. After five minutes of sputtering and crying and begging for forgiveness and trying my hardest not to gag or vomit, Applejack finally gave in to the inevitable and removed the soap, allowing me to attack the faucet. Once I had finally managed to get the last of the harsh taste out of my mouth, she ushered me out of the bathroom.
“Now, ah know that was rough, but it hurt me as much as it hurt you,” she told me firmly, a hint of the love she felt for her sister leaking past her attempt to sound maternal. “But you’re not supposed to say things like that, Apple Bloom. You know that. Just because you had a bad dream don’t mean we can tolerate that kinda filth comin’ outa your mouth, you hear?”
I sniffled and hiccuped something that sounded vaguely like an agreement, staring at the floor and wiping away the not-tears. I must have presented an extremely pathetic sight because when I finally glanced up, her expression melted like butter. To my dread, she swooped me up into a tight hug. “Ah love ya, Apple Bloom,” she said as she squeezed me against her warm breast. “Don’t you ever forget that, okay?”
“O-Okay,” I managed, still scraping my tongue along my teeth to get rid of the aftertaste that hung in my mouth. Her expression fell when I didn’t respond how she would have liked. At that moment I would have said nearly anything to avoid another soapy encounter, but there was no way in hell I was going to pretend to love her back. Part of me objected to the thought of ruining her and Apple Bloom’s relationship, but I ignored the thought so hard that if it had been coal, I would have made diamonds. I was stuck in Apple Bloom’s body, and I couldn’t care less about how well the two got on as sisters once I got back home.
After being escorted from the bathroom, I wasn’t surprised to see that Big Mac had already left to go take care of more mindless menial labor. Granny Smith was busy cleaning the table, her soft snores a sign of a mare hard at work pulling her own weight. From the show, it seemed like Applejack was the brains of the outfit, which was a pretty condemning thing, really. As I stood by quietly, trying to forget how I had just been orally violated, Applejack continued to give me her spiel about needing to go see my friends, get myself back to normal, it would be good for me, yadda yadda bullshit.
I didn’t pay attention until she plopped a heavy basket on my back, the weight of the wicker anvil enough to force an “oof!” from my reluctant – and still soap-marred – lips. “Ah’ve got a picnic basket of treats for y’all to enjoy, so this way you can have somethin’ t’ eat while y’all are out an’ about enjoyin’ your day off.” Applejack gave me a weak smile. “Just don’t be eatin’ everything all on your lonesome!”
Fat chance, I thought back. I could already smell the nauseating scent of apple-related foodstuffs leaking out of the basket. I mumbled another noncommittal answer, and Applejack – looking somewhat remorseful about her actions – bought it. She tousled my disgustingly red hair in a disgustingly familiar way before frowning. “Wait, where’s your bow?”
I froze. “Bow?”
“Oh, you can’t be thinkin’ of going out without your bow!” she declared, sounding offended at the mere thought.
I nearly bit my tongue off keeping myself from telling her to fuck off. The desire was there, but the taste of soap still haunted my taste buds. Slowly I cracked a smile. “S-Sure. Can you, uh, tie it for me?”
Applejack seemed happy enough to indulge my request, which made it clear that following the show’s logic seemed the best way to keep from getting my new ‘sister’ from giving me crap for the rest of my time in Equestria.
Once the bow was tied I fled from the farmhouse, feeling Applejack’s eyes lingering on me as I made a straight line away from the rickety building. The sunlight was like a warm blanket, the temperature outside the definition of a perfect day. I hated it. I wasn’t a day person; I liked the night. Now I was stuck carrying food for some other little bastards instead of enjoying my recommended 10-14 hours of sleep. God, the last time I had been up before noon, I’d had a court date to make.
As soon as I was sure Applejack couldn’t see me anymore I roughly dumped the basket behind a nearby tree, taking satisfaction in the sight of flakey and slightly steaming baked goods crumbling and falling apart as they were tossed into the grass. Like hell I was going to do anything for anyone else here. I had a good thing going back home. I liked the show, sure, but I liked my own life better. Being stuck in the body of what was the equivalent of a disabled little girl was not my idea of a fantasy come true.
Leaving the basket hidden in some bushes, I altered course towards the Cutie Mark Crusader treehouse visible in the distance. It was a vain hope, I knew, but I could only hope that the foals had stashed something alcoholic away somewhere inside.
Because if I didn’t get blind-drunk soon, I was fairly confident I would end up killing the next pony I met.
I clicked my helmet on, tightened the straps, and stepped onto the scooter. I tightened my grip on the handlebars and my wings began to buzz. I’m not quite sure how, but my hooves had locked onto the bar steering the scooter as I flew down the road screaming in a wild panic. The wind made it feel like I was trying to walk into the center of a hurricane. My tail and mane whipped behind my buzzing wings as adrenaline coursed through my veins.
“Woohoo!”
I had always wondered what it’d be like to be a filly turned projectile, but actually getting to be Scootaloo was something else entirely. I didn’t know how I got here, but I knew it’s the best day I’ve ever had.
A small bump in the road nearly made me lose my balance. My wings seemed to keep me stable, and I swerved past a market stall. Dozens of cabbages spilt out of the stall when I bumped it, but I had gotten my balance back.
When wondering what the first thing I’d do in Equestria would be, I figured it’d be meet the mane six or something lame. Hurtling down the road propelled by hummingbird wings on a plank with wheels had not occurred to me. This was the kind of thrill money couldn’t buy—unless you had a really fast motorcycle, and wings. At this speed I was sure to find Sweet Apple Acres and the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I’d play it cool and hang out with the fillies until I woke up—or whatever force brought me here decided to send me back.
My memories were blurred of how I got here, or why. All I knew is that every opportunity I imagined was now possible: cupcakes, apple pie, learning to fly, crusading, and meeting the best pony. Having been new to the fandom, my list of desires was fairly short. I’m sure I could just race along in a random direction and end up on an adventure.
One desire stood above the rest: Rainbow Dash. She was the best pony, and anyone who said otherwise was just trying to be a hipster by denying it. Dash had it all going on: the sonic rainboom, the mane and tail, the attitude. . . It was much to my chagrin that I couldn’t convince the other marines to see things my way. On the other hand, they liked to get blackout drunk, and more than one of them has woken up with a Diamond Tiara or Celestia tattoo.
I didn’t let it get to me though, especially not now. I would get to meet Dash and I would be taken under her wing. Then she would teach me how to fly, and I would finally find my cutie mark. At least, I hoped I was here long enough for all that. Just in case, I wasn’t going to waste my time or do anything stupid that would let Twilight or Celestia figure out I’m a human. I’ve read enough fiction to know that I’m as good as magicked back to Earth once they caught wind of this.
I must have been focusing too firmly on fulfilling my every insane wish, because my grip slipped. My hooves jabbed the handlebars for purchase, causing the wheels to turn and the scooter to stop abruptly without me.
I hadn’t even begun to scream when I saw the nearby apple tree barreling towards me. I flailed my legs as my wings buzzed. What had started out as my own private Nascar race ended with my head colliding with an apple tree at what I can only assume was an unsafe velocity.
The world blurred and I thought I could see ducks. Something was definitely circling my head. Thank God—thank Celestia for helmets. I’d expected that to hurt much more. Apparently a pegasus is tougher than they look; aside from every muscle in my body being sore, I hadn’t snapped my spine, and for that I was thankful.
The best part of the whole ordeal was that ponies really do have rubber bodies. I’m no horse expert, but I know human anatomy and I could tell that my new legs shouldn’t be able to bend like this. My forelegs had crumpled into the shape of an ‘S’, and appeared to have a dozen joints in them. They felt like marshmallows, and I had to poke my leg to make sure there really was a bone in there somewhere. My hooves shouldn’t be able to lift or grip things, nor should my spine be this bendy.
Now that I really looked at it, this filly had an amazing body. No excess body fat, no blemishes, and she was well-defined. The wings were a tad small, as I had found out when I jumped from a second story window. I had some training to do before I’d be ready to fly.
Once the fascination with my seemingly invincible filly body faded, I dusted myself off and got back on my scooter. This time I’d take it a little slower, at least until I found Apple Bloom or the club house. From what I’ve gathered, I’m a rough and tumble tomboy orphan. I’d need a place to sleep at night until I found Rainbow Dash and convinced her to teach me to fly. Maybe she’d even adopt me. There were so many stories involving abuse I had read that I was sure I could come up with a sob story to convince her.
I never realized how big the apple farm was, nor how many roots those damn trees had. I must have spent an hour buzzing around the field looking for the barn, the clubhouse, a water tower... anything. There were millions of trees there, or was that the same tree I passed five minutes ago?
After a dozen crashes and a few scraped knees, I’d gotten good at piloting the pony-powered projectile that was my scooter. I was able to steer to avoid the trees, even hover for a couple seconds to get over roots.
It was so fun to screw around that I nearly passed the clubhouse completely. I carried my scooter up to the door and pushed it open. Inside were an assortment of items from blankets and sleeping bags to a podium with a cutie mark book on it. I set down my scooter and took off my helmet. Inside the red book was a complete checklist of every single cutie mark the fillies had tried to get.
I skimmed through it for a while thinking up what crusade I’d go on first. They’d never tried ‘stunt doubles’ so I made a mental note to borrow the party cannon, some spare helmets, and Sweetie Belle. Why her? I wasn’t about to shoot myself out of a cannon; I’m smarter than that. She could go first, and then I’d shoot myself out of the cannon.
My stomach rumbled and I looked around for some food. Various cabinets filled the club house. Half of them looked perfect, and half of them looked like Apple Bloom had built them drunk—or perhaps Sweetie and I had built the abortions you might loosely define as cabinets.
I was able to find more maps, knick knacks, rice paddies, even a bone to give a dog. I found the trademark crusader cape and decided to put it on. That was when I realized how hard things would be without fingers or thumbs. It hadn’t been much of an issue on the scooter; turns out muscle memory really does make it like “riding a bike.” Even though I’m fairly certain I’ve never rode a razor scooter as a three foot tall malnourished filly, it came naturally.
Finally I got something resembling a knot tied in it. I had learned early on in my career that if you can’t tie a knot, tie a lot. I was able to fumble it around over my head until it eventually slipped over my neck and draped down my back.
That was a piece of cake. Scootaloo: 1 Opposable thumbs: 0
I was making myself at home when I heard hooves on the ramp leading to the clubhouse. I went over to the door and opened it to find Apple Bloom staring at me with a look of disbelief.
“Apple Bloom!” I shouted. With a quick movement, I tackled her in the classic pony hug. To say she was unamused would be an understatement. No sooner had I started laughing and rolling across the ground on top of her, she punched me in the mouth and pushed me off. To be fair, she didn’t hit that hard, but apparently hugging like Pinkie Pie was more annoying then they let on in the show.
“Get offa me!” She stood up and began dusting herself off.
I took a couple steps back. “Oops, heh, I was a little excited. I was just so surprised to see you and I’ve always wanted to hug a pony. . . is that weird?”
“Yes, yes it is.” She closed her eyes and began to mumble softly under her breath.
“So. . . Apple Bloom, wanna go crusading?” I asked.
“Have ya tried Cutie Mark Crusader bartender?” Apple Bloom gestured into the clubhouse. “Mayba ya got a bottle of liquor around here to practice.”
“Afraid not. I already rummaged around and I couldn’t even find a snack. I’m starving.”
Apple Bloom shook her head and sighed. “Then ah ain’t in the mood.”
“For what?” I put my scooter in the club house, and stayed as close to her as felt safe. Something seemed off about Apple Bloom as we walked into the apple orchard. I’d never seen her act this way before. Imagining what Scootaloo would do, I decided it was my job to cheer the sad filly up.
She kicked an apple that had fallen to the ground, causing it to splatter open. “Crusadin’, you, apples. . . ah don’t wanna talk about it anyhow.”
“Whatever, let’s at least go get some cupcakes or something. I don’t have any bits. Did I mention I’m starving?”
“Don’t look at me,” Apple Bloom said.
“Why not? You got a sister and a house full of food—either get us some money for cupcakes or some apple pie!” I tried to picture myself making puppy-dog eyes. After a few seconds of using unfamiliar facial muscles, I’m fairly certain I had eyes as wide as dinner plates and a pathetic looking whimper.
She looked at me and was clenching her teeth. “Damn it, fine. Ah’ll get us some bits if ya stop beggin’.”
“Deal! This is going to be so awesome.”
Apple Bloom shook her head as she walked quickly back towards the house.
The crusaders had always looked like they had a lot of fun. Apple Bloom in particular seemed to always be upbeat. Right now she seemed to have a dark cloud over her head. She looked like she could use some cheering up, and I had a long list of things to try. I couldn’t let everypony see how sad she was and her not wanting to crusade with me. Perhaps she’d warm up and get back to the cheerful and naive pony I’d always imagined meeting.
“So, you want to get the wagon and some rope or something? We could go for a ride.”
“Sounds stupid, ah’d rather walk.”
“Oh.” I caught up and walked at her side. “You see Big Ma—wait, you do have apple pie, right?”
As soon as I asked she turned and glared at me. “Ah hate apples.”
I chuckled at the joke. “Yeah, Apple Bloom hates apples.”
“Ah think I hate you too.” She turned and resumed walking towards her house.
“Aww come on, you know you love me.” I bumped into her side to get her to look at me again. My smile was met by a cold calculating glare.
“We’re here.” Apple Bloom drew my attention forward to the house. It looked weathered but solid, with slightly faded red walls and a shingled roof. There was an apple pie cooling on the windowsill. Before I knew it, I was shuffling my hooves, hopping around as if I had to use the restroom really bad.
“Ohmygosh ohmygosh! Apple pie!” I knocked Apple Bloom to the ground and shoved my way through the door. My stomach was already rumbling. After sprinting to the windowsill I was reminded of how short I was now. Even with my wings flapping full speed, I couldn’t jump high enough to reach it.
“Unf! Hey, Apple Bloom! Give me a boost.” I turned around and saw her flop down on the couch and mutter something. “Apple Bloom?”
Using a trick I had seen before, I snuck up and took her tail in my mouth. It tasted a bit dusty and tickled my nose, nearly making me sneeze. With a firm tug I yanked her off the sofa. She landed on the floor with a thud and quickly got back on her hooves.
“Hey, pie now, sleep later, okay? Please?” I asked.
“Fine, but after ah get you some pie we’re havin’ a talk ‘bout personal space, because this,” she gestured between us, “just ain’t workin’.”
She went over to the windowsill and looked up at the pie above us. I walked up behind her and sized up the distance I’d have to jump.
“So how am ah supposed ta boost—ooph.” She was cut off as I leapt up onto her back. My hooves nearly slipped, but I adjusted them to stand closer to her spine for stability. I thought I heard her swear, but it was likely my ears playing tricks on me. The fillies around here don’t even use ponified swears.
“Okay, stand still, I’ve almost got it.” My hooves slid the pie off the ledge. Just as I started to wonder how I was supposed to get back down, I lost my footing and fell backwards. The pie I had worked so hard for fell, and I felt a sharp pain in my wings.
“Ugh, why?” I asked. The delicious pie had probably landed on the floor and been ruined.
“Here, ah got your pie,” Apple Bloom said.
I rolled over and stood up. Somehow, balanced on her back, was my apple pie. Despite a facial grimace that could be mistaken for contempt, she stood still so I could retrieve my prize.
“Thank you!” I wrapped both hooves around her neck and hugged her as hard as I could. “Let’s dig in!”
I took the pie in my mouth and set it on the ground. Without fingers, utensils, or even a napkin this would likely get messy.
“You don’t want any, do you? I don’t see a polite way to do this.”
She shook her head no. “Knock yourself out. Ah’m takin’ a nap.”
I jammed my muzzle into the pie, all pretense of subtlety gone. I’d always heard the theories, that Apple family apples were the best in all of Equestria. Let me be the first to confirm it is true. The apples were sweet, the cinnamon divine, the golden flakey crust... if I could have eaten nothing but apples for the rest of my life, I would have done it in a heartbeat.
“Apple Bloom! Ah told ya not to get any pie ‘til after lunch!” Applejack shouted.
I pulled my face out of the pie and frowned. Over half of it was still sitting in the pie tin, taunting me. My surprisingly long and wide tongue was able to round up every crumb on my muzzle in one smooth motion. For the first time, I actually understood how Spike and Pinkie did it.
I looked between the two earth ponies. Apple Bloom wasn’t making eye contact and Applejack didn’t seem certain if she was upset or worried. Her furrowed brow didn’t match the concerned look she was giving her. Maybe they were having issues just like Rarity and Sweetie always did, though I found that pretty tough to believe.
“Sorry, Applejack. You just make the best pie I’ve ever tasted. It was my fault,” I said.
Applejack smiled when she turned to face me, a knowing look in her eye. “Thanks, sugarcube, but Apple Bloom still knew better.” She turned back to Apple Bloom. “Ah thought ya’d learned your lesson earlier, sis. At least tell me y’all are feelin’ better now?” Applejack asked.
“Yeah, a little,” she replied.
“Just leave it to me, AJ. I’ll cheer her up for you,” I said.
“Alright, you two stay outta trouble—ah who am ah kiddin’. Just try not to burn down the day spa again. We can’t afford any more fires bein’ started from tryin’ to fill up a sauna with hot rocks.”
After Applejack had left and I had finished the pie, I went to sit down next to Apple Bloom. She was lying on her back, massaging her temples. Both eyes were clenched shut and she seemed to be enjoying the quiet.
I climbed up on the couch and sat down next to her. It was softer than any blanket I had owned, and very fluffy. The animation doesn’t capture exactly how wonderful everything is.
“Thanks,” Apple Bloom said.
“Huh, for what?”
“For gettin’ rid of AJ, and for bein’ quiet for a change.”
“Heh, you're welcome then. If you would smile a little more I wouldn’t have to try so hard, you know.”
“Please, just shut up and don’t ruin the moment.” Apple Bloom curled up on the sofa and yawned.
“Eh, sure. I suddenly feel like I need a nap anyway.”
I curled up on the other side of the couch and waited a couple minutes. Apple Bloom began to snore softly, and I couldn’t resist. I gently made my way over and cuddled up against her side, pulling the crusader cape over us as a blanket.
I had to stifle my giddiness at the thought of the two of us napping together. Hey, everyone likes to cuddle, especially when you’re a cute filly with the chance to nap next to another cute filly. Given the uncertain length of time I would be here, it seemed only fair to take advantage of every opportunity to relax. So far it seemed like this was a place where nothing could possibly go wrong.
I yawned and closed my eyes, falling asleep with an arm over Apple Bloom’s shoulder. Equestria was going to be awesome!