((Prompt: It should've been you!))
“It should be you.”
Applejack slowed her applause to cast a sidelong glance at her companion. “Beg yer pardon, Rarity?”
The white unicorn wore a paper-thin smile and pounded her hooves half-heartedly to match the crowd of ponies around them. “That should be you up there, accepting that trophy. I don't understand what the judges were thinking!”
Up on the stage ahead, Mayor Mare presented a trophy with a big golden turnip on top to this year's winner of Ponyville's Best Garden award. In a town that was mostly farmers, the title of Best Garden tended to be a hotly contested prize.
Applejack chuckled and shook her head. “Aw, we did well enough.” She waved the second-place ribbon in the air. “Second place ain't bad at all, with stiff competition like this. Golden Harvest worked her flank off, she deserved to win.”
An impatient huff erupted from Rarity. “Please, dear, don't give me that humble pony routine. You worked your flank off, darling. Miss Harvest clearly still has hers fully intact. Adding to it by the day, from the looks of it.”
Applejack sighed. “No reason to be catty, darlin'.”
“I am not being catty,” Rarity snapped. “I am simply pointing out an observable fact.”
Applejack glanced up at the stage. Maybe Golden Harvest was starting to put on a bit of pudge. Applejack quickly realized she was standing next to her marefriend while staring at her neighbor's flank, and coughed into her hoof. “Flanks notwithstandin', she put on a good show. She's got a mighty fine garden.”
“With all due respect to her,” Rarity said, “her garden was a patch of dirt with weeds sticking out. I am loath to even call it a garden! Your garden was art. Beauty itself, distilled into rows of cabbage and beets. I find it an utter disgrace that anypony could be so blind as to rate that mudhole of hers over the study in elegance that you presented!” She pawed at the ground, her nostrils flared.
Applejack pinched her brows. There would be no winning this argument. “Well, I guess there's always next year,” she said. “Besides, it ain't like Golden Harvest ever beat me for the Best Orchard... hey, where you goin'?”
Rarity was working her way through the crowds of ponies. “I simply cannot remain silent about this!” she cried, making for the stage.
“Oh, Celestia,” Applejack muttered. “Rarity, wait!” She tried to push her way through the crowds, but there was no way to reach the stage before Rarity did.
The fashionista climbed up on top of the platform, stepping in front of Golden Harvest. “Darling, I'm very happy for you, and I will let you finish,” she said, cutting off the carrot-farmer's acceptance speech, “but Applejack's garden is the number one garden of all time!”
An orange hoof snagged her and began dragging her off the stage. “Let's come on down, Rarity,” Applejack said as she pulled.
“Of all time!” Rarity repeated as she was taken off of the stage.
Applejack did not set her down until they were well clear of the crowd. “What the hay was that all about, Rarity?” she panted.
Rarity sat on the cobbles, staring at the ground. She mumbled something, too quiet for Applejack to hear.
Applejack knelt in closer. “Speak up, hon.”
“Our garden,” Rarity said, tears beading in her eyes. “I helped you grow this one. I put up with mud, and bugs, and weeds to help you with it.” She sniffled. “It is the very best garden of all time, Applejack. It's our garden.”
Applejack wrapped a hoof around her. “It surely is, sweethart. It surely is.”