Hollow Shades was not necessarily spooky. Sure, it was always dark, always damp, and always quiet, but that came naturally through its location in the midst of the densest forest in the entirety of Equestria. The trees overhead were so thick with foliage that not an iota of sunlight, moonlight, or starlight ever pierced the canopy.
Not spooky at all.
Sure, it was only lit by a few lanterns that glowed a ghostly white. The pale lamps hung off of awnings and over the streets. Ponies could be found attending to them, protecting and sustaining the only source of light to be found. These ponies all wore grim, strained expressions, aware that should any light go out, it could mean danger for the whole town.
Yawn.
Sure, the local wildlife was nocturnal, phosphorescent, and carnivorous. More often than not, they exuded mystical attributes, such as the ability to disappear at will, or to siphon the souls of ponies to feed their demonic powers.
That last one is probably just an urban legend. Probably.
Take the will-o’-the-wisp, a sprite-like creature that likes to latch onto the hats of traveling salesponies and stay there, acting as a sort of bizarre headlamp that more likely than not wants to eat said pony’s brain.
Um. Huh. Okay, maybe a little spooky.
Only a little.
At least, that’s what Flim Flimflam thought when a particularly friendly will-o’-the-wisp settled down on his straw boater hat. His tail straightened in a rush of adrenalin as he jumped in his seat. “Lookee what we got here, oh Brother of Mine, it’s the same in every tree!”
Flam Flimflam twirled his moustache as he drove their giant mobile cider-maker towards Hollow Shades. “Sprites flying through the air, and not a single drop of sunlight to be seen.”
Flim removed his hat and flapped it, driving the glowing creature deep into the forest. “If we wish to make a profit in this dank and dark and dreary little town…”
“We’d better bring our A-game and spread our famous talent all around!” Flam finished for his brother.
“I hope you brew a better cider than you sing,” Flim said
“I sing better after a pint or two.” Flam threw the clutch, or some such vehicular nonsense, and rolled the vehicle into town. “That sugar really gets me rolling.”
Flim cocked an eyebrow. “Rolling right off the back of the wagon?”
Flam opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated mid-breath. He gave a snort of disregard. “Brother, you’re really somethin’ else.”
“It’s a gift,” Flim said with a bow.
Their mode of transportation, the much-lauded Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, entered town with a bang of its exhaust pipes. The apple-picking, quality-controlling, fruit-crushing, drink-mixing contraption was an odd combination of carriage and science laboratory. Powered by the brothers’ innate unicorn magic, it could mix a barrel of cider at the drop of a hat and the glow of a horn. The Flimflam siblings travelled from town-to-town in search of apples to harvest, and customers to entice.
Though, they weren’t adverse to other, more permanent, business opportunities.
“I still say we could have turned that situation around,” Flam grumbled. “We won the deed to the farm fair and square.”
“We also earned the ire of an entire small town,” Flim reminded him. “I don’t fancy going toe-to-toe with an angry mob.”
Flam’s moustache twitched. “What do the courts say about angry mobs?”
Flim shrugged. “‘Run like heck?’”
“Sounds about right,” Flam mused. “Though I remember reading about the case of Lulamoon vs. Fillydelphia, where it was ruled that defacing a public landmark with illusion spells was not sufficient cause for an angry mob to be formed.”
“Any rulings about cider-making or farm-winning?” They hit a pothole, causing Flim to fall out of his seat. He rubbed his rump ruefully and returned to his rest. “Maybe we can get that deed back if we play our cards right.”
“No such luck,” Flam sighed. “We won the deed to Sweet Apple Acres, sure, but then we promptly vacated the premises, leaving such legally binding documents behind!”
With their character arc properly recapped, the brothers parked their livelihood and disembarked. They walked up to the town hall and entered with smiles on their faces. Three pink-coated mares, a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony, sat behind a desk. They looked up at the visitors with a mild surprise.
“Hello,” said the unicorn. “Welcome to the town of Hollow Shades—”
“Where every day is a struggle—” continued the pegasus.
“Enjoy your stay,” finished the earth pony. “Is there anything—”
“That we can assist you with—” the pegasus progressed.
“Before your untimely deaths?” the unicorn concluded.
Flim Flimflam and Flam Flimflam exchanged a glance, a glance filled with equal portions fear and resolve. As it was a glance between two twins, it carried the impact of an entire conversation.
“Flam, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Flim asked.
“I think I am, Flim,” Flam replied. “I left the engine running. We can be out of here in two—”
“We’d like a permit to sell food!” Flim exclaimed. “Cider, actually. We’ve got the rip-roaringest cider-maker in the business, and we’d be happy to set up shop in your little town.” He leaned on the counter and grinned at the three mares. “May I ask your names?”
The mares looked at each other and nodded. The unicorn summoned a sheet of paper, which the pegasus stamped and the earth pony pushed up to Flim.
“Please fill out—”
“This form to—”
“Get your permit.”
The unicorn placed a hoof on her chest. “My name is Ribbon Wishes.”
The pegasus brushed her hair out of her face. “I’m Sky Wishes.”
The earth pony leaned on the counter. “I’m Flower Wishes.”
“Together we serve—”
“As the mayors, judges—”
“And police of Hollow Shades.”
Flim looked the form over; it seemed to be the usual indecipherable legal mumbo jumbo. “Pretty straightforward, actually. What do you say to setting up the SSCS 6000 outside, Flam?”
Flam brushed his expertly-waxed moustache. “I wouldn’t mind.” He looked to Flower Wishes. “Can you point me to the nearest apple orchard?”
The three mares blinked simultaneously. “I’m afraid—”
“There aren’t any orchards—”
“In Hollow Shades.”
It was the Flimflam Brothers’ turn to blink. “But,” Flam said, “But huh?”
Flim chewed his bottom lip. “Are there any apple trees at all?”
Ribbon Wishes shrugged. “Just wild ones—”
“Deep in the forest—” Sky Wishes added.
“Where nopony can survive for long,” Flower Wishes sighed.
Flam’s expertly-waxed moustache came unraveled. “W-what kind of… wild trees?”
Ribbon Wishes nodded towards the forest. “Zap Apple trees—”
“The type only found in the wild—”
“Except for in Ponyville.”
“Ah,” Flim muttered. “That crafty old coot of a granny tamed the wild Zap Apples, did she?”
“Yeah,” Flam grunted. “That would have been a spectacular farm.”
“Tell you what,” Flim said. “What if you tell us how to get to the Zap Apple trees, could you do that?”
Sky Wishes jumped back. “That’s a bad idea. You could get led astray by will-o’-the-wisps—”
“Or eaten by an orphiotaurus—”
“Or disemboweled by timberwolves.”
“Ha!” Flim removed his hat with a flourish. “We are Flim and Flam Flimflam, Travelling Sales-Ponies Nonpareil! I fully believe that we can do this. With your permission?”
The three Wishes looked at each other once again, conveying their consensus.
“You may—”
“But you might not—”
“Survive the night.”
“We recommend—”
“You get the local guide—”
“To show you the way.”
A quick walk down the street brought the brothers to a small house on the edge of town. Said house was darker than most, but compensated by having deadbolts on everything but the toilet seats.
There were time locks on those.
A small, slight earth pony mare, barely coming up to Flim’s shoulder, poked her head out of the door. She ran her eyes up and down Flim and Flam, as if sizing up a basket of apples. “Can I help you two?”
“We’d like to take a trip into the forest,” Flim said with a grin. “We’re told that you could lead the way.”
She squinted. “I can lead the way. Can you follow?”
Flim nodded, but his gesture was cut off by the diminutive mare shouting him down. “I don’t think so, Dobbin! You two skinny blokes don’t look like you could eat your way out of a three-layer cake!”
The brothers were taken aback by her vehemence. They shared a look, a look that was becoming more and more uncertain by the minute spent in Hollow Shades. “I think we can handle ourselves…”
“HA!” the mare laughed. “HA! HA! HA! You’d be dead before we met the first harpy!”
Flim coughed. “Listen, Miss—?”
“Gentle Showers,” she answered.
“Miss Gentle Showers,” Flim said. “We are fully capable of handling ourselves. You lead, we follow, you get your fee, and we get our tree.”
“You listen here, blokes,” she growled. “I spent three years in the service. Overseas, I seen things that would turn your stripy manes yellow. Nothin’, nothin’ compared to what I seen here.”
Flam tiptoed closer to his brother and whispered, “Are you sure we need to set up shop here? What’s Hollow Shades have that others don’t?”
Flim grinned, a predatory grin wholly foreign on an herbivore’s face. “Zap Apple cider, a brew never before attempted.” He flicked a bit in Gentle Shower's direction. “Here’s just a taste of what you’ll receive when we’ve returned.”
She caught the bit in midair. “‘If,’ you mean.”
The trek was fraught with peril. Flim and Flam barely escaped with their lives. They fought off will-o’-the-wisps by the thousands, they slayed orphiotauruses by the dozens, they ran from a harpy hungry for blood…
And that was before they left the town.
The trip through the forest was not quiet, in part because they drove their Cider-mobile, in part because of Gentle Shower’s shouted directions. They made good time to the Zap Apple grove.
Much to Flim and Flam’s delight, it was in the middle of Zap Apple Season, and the fruit was nearly ripe for harvest. A half-day’s wait was all that stood between them and Zap Apple cider.
That, plus the angry timberwolves that guarded the trees. They were pretty unhappy about the three ponies intruding on their life-source. A few rocks launched into strategic limbs kept them at bay.
At last, the apples appeared on the trees. They sprung to life in a rainbow of color, sending jolts of excitement down the spines of the ponies present. Flim reached for one with his hooves, not wishing his own unicorn magic to interfere with the magic of the tree. He really had no idea what such a mixture would do, and thus would not risk it.
He plucked the apple and took a bite. “Delicious, as I suspected! Flam, time to turn on the machine!”
Together, the two brothers launched a beam of magic into the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, bringing the apple-picker to life. A suction hose snaked its way out of the heart of the machine and began to take in apples.
“Sweet manna from Heaven!” Flam said, his moustache frizzing in surprise. “Every single Zap Apple is passing inspection! The entire tree is suitable for eating!”
“It’s the magic of the Zap Apple,” Flim explained. “The fruit is only good for one day, so it’s gotta count!”
The cider-squeezer sputtered as the first apple was crushed into juice. A flash came from the innards as the innate magic within the fruit released into the contraption. Unicorn magic and nature magic mixed and flowed as more apples were mashed. The SSCS 6000 rattled and lurched as the internal systems were clogged with snaking sparkles.
“Something’s wrong!” Flam shouted. “The magic build-up is overflowing our flux capacitor! She’s gonna blow!”
Flim narrowed his eyes. “Not today, it’s not.” He reached a hoof out to his brother. “Flam, give me the science goggles.”
Flam gasped. “Not the science goggles!”
“It’s the only way,” Flim said. “I’m not just gonna stand by and watch our livelihood burn itself to a crisp!”
He climbed his way up the buckling vehicle, searching for the apple masher. He found it smoking, letting loose the scent of apple pie baking. Since it was supposed to smell like apple cider, the Flimflam Brother took it as a sign of error. He opened the top of the crusher to get to the inner workings, only to be blasted away by a rainbow of magic.
“Great Scott!” he shouted as he sailed over the Cider Squeezy. He landed upside down in the driver seat, his feet near the controls. He scrambled upright and saw the bright rainbow of colors blasting out of the crusher, unimpeded by the casing.
He smiled as a thought came to him. “Flam, I think I’m brilliant!”
“I hope so,” Flam replied, “because our guide just ran off in fright.”
“To truly make Zap Apple cider,” Flim announced, “we’ve got to twist the magic right into the mixture itself!”
“What?” Flam cried out. “That would create magical cider! Who knows what kind of side-effects that might have!?”
“Time to find out!” Flim yelled.
He leaped into the stream of rainbow magic with a firm jaw and trembling lips. His horn glowed as he concentrated on the Zap Apples, sending the magic swirling deeper into the machine, where the drinks were being mixed. His feet tingled as the power flowed through him, and his mane stood on end. He grinned as the first barrel of cider leaped from the back of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, and the machine quieted.
Flim approached the barrel with a mixture of hesitance and enthusiasm. Hesi-thusiasm, if you will. He opened the top to be greeted by the shine of a barrel’s worth of rainbow drink.
“It’s beautiful!” he shouted. With that said, he disappeared in a flash of bright light.
“Flim?” Flam asked. He walked around and around the cider machine, finding no sign of his brother. As the sounds of the forest started to creep around him, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He quickly placed the cap on the barrel of cider and loaded it on the back of the vehicle. He started it up and set forth for town, moving as fast as the undergrowth would allow.
“Okay,” Flam muttered. “Okay, what just happened there?”
Flim awoke with a start, floating in a vast expanse of nothingness. He would have said that he was in outer space, for lack of a better descriptor, but the void lacked even a single star. He took a hesitant step into the limbo-like world, finding purchase for his fairly well-groomed hoof. A few steps forwards brought no sensation of progress; the empty space had no landmarks, no sense of up or down, absolutely nothing.
The sales-pony nonpareil sat, unnerved by an intense sense of loneliness. He looked around at the empty plane and was surprised to notice an entire crowd of ponies gathered behind him. Unicorns, earth ponies, and pegasi all stood in a single-file line, trailing a good few pony-lengths into the void-ishness.
“Davenport, because you created the world’s first self-adjusting magic cushion…”
As he looked around, he noticed rectangles floating by, containing moving pictures very much like movies. They contained scenes from the lives of the ponies beside him, no doubt showing a few highlights. He caught himself in one or two, but nothing too substantial.
“Minuette, in honor of your ‘Always Correct Clock’ spell…”
To his right stood Luna, the alicorn Princess of the Night. She held up a clipboard with her magic and was scribbling a few words down. “Name, please.”
Flim blinked. “Can I ask what’s—”
“You’ll figure it out on a moment,” she cut him off. “Name, please.”
“Donut Joe, for crafting the most excellent donuts this side of the moon…”
“Uh, Flim Flimflam, Travelling Sales-Pony Nonpareil,” he said.
The line moved forwards inch by inch. Flim tried to catch a glimpse of what waited at the end, but he was unable to see over the shoulder of a particularly-excited blonde pegasus mare half-way down the line. She floated in the void, carried aloft on grey wings. She made for a much better door than a window.
“Cup Dazzle Cake, after crafting the magical Easy-Bake oven…” (*)(1)
The pony in front of him grunted in frustration. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not have time for a mystical coffee-house line.”
Flim looked down at the blue unicorn mare, who wore a magician’s cape and hat. He might have described her as “captivating,” had he not been drooling over her inside his head. “Hello, there. Are you a street performer?” he asked.
“I was,” she said, “until I got a job in Applewood.” She produced a picture from beneath her cloak, hidden away for just such an opportunity to brag. “Here’s a picture of me with the director, Steven Spellbound.”
“Ooh, he’s a goody,” Flim grinned. “I especially liked his film about the dragon theme park. Are you an actress?”
“Hardly, one picture would be unable to contain my sheer awesome.” She chuckled at her own assertion. “I’m working with him on special effects for the new Daring Do movie.”
“Don’t those movies use practical special effects?” Flim asked, his mild familiarity with the filmmaking process fighting with his need to impress the mare.
“Most of the time,” she admitted. “But there are one or two things that need to be added to this film to fully get his vision across.”
Trixie adjusted her hat and smirked proudly. “In fact, before I was unceremoniously zapped here, I had invented a form of special effect that can be fully interacted with by the cast. I call it the “Corporeal Ghost Illusion,” or CGI for short.”
“Ooh…” Flim nodded appreciatively. “Care to show me how it works?”
“I already have,” she snickered. “You’ve been talking to an illusion for two minutes.”
He spun as the voice suddenly came from beside him. He laughed aloud as the mare’s horn glowed and the construct disappeared.
“I can see that being very fun,” he said with a chuckle.
She nodded. “Indeed, the Great and Powerful Trixie is pleased with her genius!” She gave his cutie mark a surreptitious glance. “Are you an apple farmer?”
“Cider-maker, actually,” Flim said. “Flim Flimflam at your service! My brother and I had just created the first batch of Zap Apple cider when I, too, was brought to this odd place.”
“Soarin, for your efforts to save an entire Cloudsdale orphanage from plummeting to its doom and fighting off the changeling swarm that attacked it…”
Trixie perked her head up. “Say, what do you suppose this line is for, anyhow?”
“I have absolutely no clue,” he mumbled. The line was shorter now, and he could see the end.
The Elder Diarch, the Princess of the Sun, the long-time ruler of Equestria, the Solar Sovereign, the Big Cheese herself was presiding over her little ponies. Princess Celestia sat in a large folding chair, a mug of coffee held in her grip. The list that sat beside her glowed each time a pony’s name was written on Luna’s list, adding the new name to both.
Flim looked behind himself and noted that two more ponies had appeared after him.
Celestia held back a yawn and rubbed at the bags under her eyes. “Ah, more of my little ponies have arrived. How unexpected.” Her normally serene mannerisms were falling apart as the hours dragged on. “Please come forth, Trixie Lulamoon.”
Trixie strode up to her and bowed. Celestia touched her horn to the blue unicorn’s forehead. “Trixie Lulamoon, for crafting an entire new branch of illusion magic, you are now the Princess of Illusions!”
“The Great and Powerful Princess Trixie!?” Trixie squealed. “Yes! Yesyesyesyesyes!”
She spun on the line behind her with a devilish grin, her cape flapping in the nonexistent wind. “Kneel before Trixie, my new peons! For the show… will last… FOREVER!”
Celestia ducked down to whisper in Trixie’s ear. “Dear, they are also becoming princes and princesses of Equestria.”
“Oh.” Trixie sat, mulling over the revelation. She had little time to wonder, however, because her eyes began to glow. The shine soon reached every corner of her body, morphing her into something greater. When the light faded, she stood tall as a new mare, an alicorn princess of Equestria.
“Oh yes,” she said, examining her wings. “That will do nicely.”
Celestia then looked to Flim. “Ah, Flim Flimflam, please step forwards.”
He did so, and Celestia touched her horn to his forehead. “In celebration of…” She blinked. “Zap Apple cider? That’s a thing now?”
He nodded vigorously. “Absolutely, your worshipfulness! My brother and I just squeezed our first batch this afternoon!”
“Please don’t call me that,” she said.
“Why, before you know it, we’ll have barrels and barrels to sell!” Flim practically bounced in place as his body glowed. “Barrels and barrels of magical, mystical, Zap Apple cider!”
Flam changed gears and revved the engine up to maximum RPM. He could see the pale lights of the town in the distance; not quite inviting, but moreso than the ghastly glimmer of will-o’the-wisps. His moustache flapped in the wind as he swerved twixt the trees, alert for any more monsters in his route.
He glanced back at the single barrel of Zap Apple cider they had produced before his brother disappeared. The top was secured, but a glow could still be seen seeping out. A trail of rainbows followed the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, attracting attention from all parts of the forest. A few colossal timberwolf golems in particular seemed attracted to its scent.
A shape leapt out of the woods and landed beside him in the cockpit thingy. Flam screeched a truly epic screech, one that he would later remember with pride. To his utter relief, the object was a fairly familiar pony: Gentle Showers.
She screamed at him to move his saggy rear end faster, and he replied that he was moving as fast as was pony-ly possible. The two watched the timber-hulks approach their rear bumper, and both gave an impressive scream.
Though the screams were hardly up to par with what was described previously.
“What if”—Gentle Showers gasped as the Squeezy hit a bump—“what if we used the magic cider as a fuel? It looks like it’s overflowing with power!”
“Like my horn isn’t?” Flam growled. He pulled the steering rod hard to the right, avoiding a pony-eating psychomore tree. “What good could a buncha apple juice do?”
He pulled the stick back to the left to avoid the jaws of death that belonged to a hungry timberwolfasaurus. The giant wooden creature snapped empty air with a growl, gazing hungrily after the fleeing vehicle.
“Got”—bump—“any”—bump—“better”—bumpitty—“ideas!?”—bumpitty bump.
“You pour it in, then!” he groused.
She stuck her tongue out and climbed over to the back of the contraption. Her gray mane blew in the wind as she grasped the barrel with her hooves. She lifted the container with a mighty roar and poured the liquid down the SSCS 6000’s magic receptor.
A sudden burst of speed was instantly felt. Flam gaped at his speedometer, his mind boggling as the numbers went up. Thirty-five miles per hour. Fifty. Seventy.
The yoke jerked in his grip, and the vehicle could be felt rattling under his hooves. It was as if the brothers’ livelihood was shaking itself apart even as it raced for the relative safety of Hollow Shades. Gentle Showers hollered as she held on for dear life, slipping bit-by-bit off of the back of the vehicle.
Once the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 reached eighty-eight miles per hour, the exhaust became a roaring flame. It rocketed forwards, leaving two rainbow trails of fire in the forest. The two ponies nearly topped the world record for screams, but there were no record-keepers present for verification.
They would have overshot the town had a nice, sturdy building not been in the way. The town hall slowed their acceleration to a halt, and reduced the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000 to an immobile pile of junk.
Ribbon, Sky, and Flower Wishes looked on as Flam Flimflam clawed his way out of the wreckage, an impressive feat considering his lack of claws. Gentle Showers popped out behind him, her mane a frizzy mess of burnt hair.
“Next time, let me drive,” she said. She punched Flam in the shoulder, knocking the dizzy stallion off of his feet. While he was incapacitated, she dug around his shirt pocket for his bag of bits, which she then acquisitioned. “That’ll be payment in full. Have a nice day!”
She waved goodbye to the three Wishes, and then proceeded to walk out of the story. Said pink-coated ponies trotted up to the fallen Flimflam brother and picked him up.
“Are you alright?”
“You don’t look so good.”
“Do you have insurance?”
Flam blinked owlishly at the three mares. “No, shut up, and yes.”
Flim Flimflam and Trixie were teleported to Canterlot Castle, where the mass coronations were taking place. They faced a line as long as the walkway to the dais, a line comprised exclusively of alicorns. Discord stood at the end, conjuring up crowns and outfits for the newly-appointed royalty.
His mouth opened wide in a yawn. “Good griefer, how many of you alicorns are there? It’s like somepony uncorked a bottle!”
Soarin, Wonderbolt Co-Captain and Prince of the Storm, bowed to receive his royal accessories. Discord dropped the crown upon his crown with a complete and total lack of ceremony.
“Next!” the confusingly-multifaceted draconequus called. He snapped his fingers and Soarin disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Keep the line moving, ponies!”
Trixie was a bundle of joy, her eyes all but sparkling at the grandeur around her. “At long last! Is this to by my destiny? Surrounded on all sides by the rich and mighty? To count myself among them? To spread my wisdom throughout the ages at Princess Celestia’s side!?”
“To join your fellow ponies up on the anointment alter?” Discord snapped. “Hurry it up, we haven’t got all millennium.” He tapped his cheek thoughtfully. Flakes of flaming dandruff tumbled from his beard. “Then again, I suppose we do…”
“Hey!” Donut Joe said. “I’m not gonna sit here and wait for a thousand years when there’s bigger and better donuts to make, let’s get cooking!”
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Discord chuckled. He snapped his fingers and the newly-crowned Prince of Pastry vanished.
Trixie Lulamoon stepped up to the dais beside Flim. She turned to him with a sudden thought. “Hey, you’re interested in making more Zap Apple cider, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am,” he answered. “It promises of great things to come!”
“I have this idea,” she said. “There’s a nice little town not far from here that has a few Zap Apple trees, you might be able to make a deal with the orchard owners. What if I took you there?”
“Let’s make a date of it!” Flim laughed. “Say, about two seconds from now?”
“Well, there is a coffee shop…” Trixie smiled and turned to Discord. “You know the town, right?”
“Indeed, Princess.” The draconequus bowed with some semblance of regality. “It is a place very near and dear to my heart.”
Crowns glowed and lowered themselves onto the two royals’ heads. Flim allowed himself a gigantic grin as he caught sight of his bedecked head in a mirror. Discord’s chaotic magic hoisted them like two sacks of potatoes and threw them out the window, off of Canterlot Mountain.
Trixie blinked as she soared. “I guess… I guess this is how they teach us to fly?”
Flim was unable to reply, his mouth being occupied with belting out the most colorful profanities the Equestrian language had to offer.
Trixie rolled her eyes and spread her wings, letting them catch the wind and slow her descent. Her inexperience with flight caused her a bit of pain as she stalled in midair and dropped like a rock. The ground rushed up to meet her like an enthusiastic quarterback clambering for a touchdown. (2)
Flim Flimflam was suddenly beside her, his horn glowing green. “Do as I do! We can teleport out of here!”
“I don’t know how to teleport!” she gasped. “I can’t teleport! I can’t!”
Flim chewed his lip. “Hold onto me, I’ll get us out if this!”
Trixie required no further prompting. She coiled her forelegs around his neck and squeezed tight. His airway constricted, Flim struggled to charge his horn enough to teleport. Within a moment they were gone, sparking out of existence.
They sparked back into existence a few feet above a convenient lake, cushioning their landing far more than solid stone was capable of. They swam out of the lake, gasping for each breath. Trixie reached land first and gave it a most enthusiastic kiss while Flim looked on jealously.
“Land!” she shouted. “Oh, how I love your sediment! Oh, how your grains of sand shine in the sunlight! You well and truly, that is, quite thoroughly and literally, rock!”
Flim coughed into his hoof. “Should I leave the two of you alone for a while?”
Trixie gave him a “Harrumph.” She pouted, her lips covered in sand. “I just got through a very stressful ordeal, thank you kindly. I think I have the right to pontificate a little bit on the virtues of solid ground.”
He walked past her, his eye catching on the damp impression of her lips in the sand. “You have won this round, dirt,” he mumbled. “But mark my words, there will be a reckoning.”
He raised his head and found himself not far from a small village. “Is this the place?”
“Certainly!” she announced. “Welcome to the little town of Ponyville!”
The name of the town made his blood run cold. “Ponyville, you say?”
“Indubitably!” she said. “Home of none other than Sweet Apple Acres! They’ll fulfill your Zap Apple needs!”
Flim’s mouth dropped open. He turned as if to bolt, but Trixie grabbed him.
“Hurry!” she said. “We can meet with the orchard’s caretakers and be in the coffee shop before dark!”
He was hoisted bodily into the air in a current of blue magic. Trixie trotted through town happily, waving to a few ponies. They responded with expressions ranging from surprise, to pleasant surprise, to unhappy surprise. One particular pair of unicorn colts gasped and hid themselves in a hay cart, shielding themselves from her presence.
They reached the dreaded farmland far sooner than Flim had anticipated. The apple trees ranged farther than the eye could see, a true testament to the family’s work ethic and physical strength. Flim was certain that even the youngest was capable of lifting twenty more pounds than he was.
His heart fell inside his chest as an orange mare with blonde hair trotted up to the fence to greet them. She smiled, her hat bobbing with each step she took. “Howdy there, how can ah help—”
She froze. Her glare was filled with surprise not entirely foreign in the eyes of the townsfolk. Her surprise turned to anger as she recognized Flim. “YOU!”
Trixie gasped as recognition reached her, also. “You!?”
The farmer gasped and turned to Trixie. “You, too!?”
Trixie shook her head. “You work here?”
“Well, the picture on mah butt isn’t a corncob, now, is it?” the farmer growled.
“Well, I just didn’t realize—” Trixie was cut off by the other mare.
“An’ now yer friends with him?” She pointed at Flim with a scowl. “Well ain’t you just a fine and dandy pony to know?”
Trixie sniffed. “I’ll have you know that he’s a perfect gentlepony.”
“Yeah, ’til he’s stealin’ yer farm out from under you!” the mare, who Flim now recognized as Applejack Apple, accused.
“I’d just like to mention,” Flim whispered, “that we won the farm fair and square.”
“Shut up, Huckster,” Applejack snapped. “Ah’ll deal with you in a minute.”
She whirled on Trixie. “Now what gave you the bright idea to mosey on over to mah farm an’ give ol’ Flimflammery here a grand tour?”
“Well…” Trixie shuffled her hooves. “I think he’s got a real nice business proposition for you…”
“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’.” Applejack grunted at the yellow-coated alicorn stallion, aka Flim Flimflam. “Yer bad news, the both of yah.”
Trixie worried her lower lip. “Well, we’re sorry for wasting your time.”
Applejack left without another word to them, though she did mumble something about “Hey, why isn’t Granny Smith an alicorn?” (3) Trixie and Flim watched her march away for a moment, before walking back into town.
“Well,” Trixie mumbled, “that didn’t go quite how I had planned.”
“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Flim said, “what happened between you two?”
Trixie sighed. “When I was a travelling performer, I spent most of my time belittling ponies in my show. Applejack hasn’t gotten over it, I think. What’s her beef with you?”
“Eaaaahhhh…” Flim rubbed his head, knocking his crown at a jaunty angle. “My brother and I won her farm in a cider-making contest that… may have been an unfair challenge.” At her odd look he shook his hooves explanatorily. “It was completely legal! I swear! I just sorta implied to her grandmother, the matriarch of the farm, that her cider-making skills were”—he shrugged—“old fashioned?”
“You called her lame, didn’t you?” Trixie asked pointedly.
“Not in so many words,” he said. He saw that they were approaching the coffee shop, the Keen Bean. The face of a particularly high-strung pony appeared in the window. Said pony leaped through said window and rearranged the letters on said shop’s sign.
The sign now read “Alicorns served: six.”
They entered the shop and took a seat at a small table. He shuffled his hooves, examining the floorboards with unhealthy interest. He chanced a glance at Trixie to see that she, too, was studying the floor with great intensity.
The shop’s proprietary, Doreen Bean, jumped into existence beside them. “H-hello, may I g-g-get you something to driiiink?” Flim could tell that the pony’s blood pressure was exceeding that of most oil reservoirs. “We have l-l-lots of coffeeee!”
“Caramel Mocha, please,” Trixie muttered. “A couple extra shots of coffee would do nicely.”
“Just a decaf, please,” Flim said. He prepared to assault his coffee with various packets of sugar and cream. “Thank you.”
Doreen pronked off to make the drinks, leaving the two alicorns alone in the shop. Trixie chanced a glance at Flim, who leaned upon his hooves dejectedly.
“We’re not exactly saints of Equestria, are we?” she asked.
“Not nearly,” he replied. “Though mine was not so much a sin of action as it was a sin of…” He circled a hoof in the air as he thought. “Jackamule-ishness?”
“I suppose we’re both jackamules,” she said. She laid her head on the table, her mane splaying out on its surface. “It’s a wonder Ponyville tolerates my presence.”
Flim was about to join her on the table when a thought sparkled in his brain. “But we are alicorns.” He turned to her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Heh, we must be doing something right.”
Her smile grew to match his as the coffee materialized on their table. “Something, for sure.” She lifted her cup in the air. “To innovation?”
He bumped his cup against hers. “To inspiration!”
Flam Flimflam dug through the wreckage of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000. He gave a cry of “Eureka!” as he unearthed the barrel of Zap Apple cider. He raised it over his head in a swath of green telekinesis. He gazed greedily inside the container, noting the roughly eight ounces of cider remaining.
He poured the leftover cider into a mug and marveled at its rainbow hue. He sniffed, his mouth watering at the tantalizing aroma of apple. His hair stood on end as the magical charge flowed through the air and tickled his horn. Without further ceremony, he tilted the cup to his lips and drank deeply.
He coughed. He sputtered. He gagged. The drink was not good. The drink was not apple. The drink was most certainly not cider.
It tasted like Everfree dirt and unicorn sweat. Nasty. (4)
He tossed the mug aside with a grunt. He glared as the last drops of liquid dissipated into the dirt, coloring it a muddy rainbow of browns. He sighed as he grumped at the wreckage of his vehicle, now nothing more than a pile of junk inside a place of justice.
His eyes lit up. “Huh,” he said. “Huh, now there’s an idea…”
And so, Flimflam Brothers’ Horseless Carriages (5) and Zap Apple Oil was open for business the following month.