As was their habit at the end of the day, Big Macintosh and Peppermill made their respective ways to a small hillock on Sweet Apple Acres property that gave a spectacular view of the setting sun. Underneath an old apple tree was where the stallion and colt would sit, watch the sky dot itself with stars and discuss all sorts of topics important to male ponies.
“So…a tail flick is a…good thing?” asked a skeptical Peppermill.
“Reckon so, ifin the number of tahms I got one of those from a gal…” rumbled Big Macintosh. The little chef sniffed, but decided to accept his more…experienced brother’s knowledge as truth. The colt gave another sniff, this time closing his eyes and frowning softly at the unpleasant (to him, at least) chill the night was forming in the air.
“Ah reckon we’ll hafta break out the parka fer yah…” grinned the stallion, watching his adopted kin shiver slightly.
“If only…you weren’t joking…” grumbled the colt. ”By the way…what is your opinion…on pumpkins?”
“Ah ain’t got a problem eatin’ them, if that’s wut yer askin’. While I lahk AJ’s apple pies ah won’t say no to a nice piece of pumpkin pie…”
“Have you ever…tried pumpkin soup?”
“Didn’t know you could make soup from a pumpkin…”
“It will…be something to look forward…to then. Speaking of…looking forward to things…” While the grey colt knew his elder brother would never do so, Peppermill felt a bit sheepish about having to admit his lack of experience in regards to Nightmare Night and all the activities involved. While he was sure he could have asked just about any pony in town, he much preferred to question the red stallion.
“Oh? You expecting something to happen?” asked the stallion. Truthfully, Big Mac also was hoping to broach the subject of the upcoming festivities. He figured the clever little colt would have a wagon-full of ideas about costumes to wear for Nightmare Night. Granted, it might be a bit tricky to convince the cook that a full-grown stallion wanted nothing more in the immediate future than to ‘dress up’.
“You do know…what big yearly event…is coming in…a few weeks?” asked the colt of the stallion.
“Hmmm…well…” The stallion rubbed his chin with a massive hoof, looking thoughtful but amused. The two Apple boys enjoyed bantering and teasing each other, both of them remarkably good at wordplay. The longer Big Macintosh held off from answering, the more ‘annoyed’ Peppermill became.
“Do I have to…spell it out for you?” Peppermill asked sweetly. Even before getting an answer, the colt began to poke at his brother’s rock-hard chest. “N…I…G…H…T…”
“I hope that ain’t yer strrin’ hoof yer using.”
“Would you rather…I use my hind legs?’ grunted Peppermill.
“Well. Ah reckon yer tryin’ to tell me that Nightmare Night is commin’ up.”
“Yes…it is…” panted Peppermill, ignoring the throb in his hoof. It’s like…poking a mountain…
“Believe me, ah know all too well that there celebration is coming up. The Apple clan plays a mighty big part in makin’ everything right. Who do ya think provides all the food fer the party?”
“For…the whole town?” The colt suddenly found his train of thought switching tracks, the chef in him pondering the logistics of providing party food for an entire town. So caught up in his sudden change of topic, he missed the next few things his brother spoke of with a wistful glimmer in his eyes.
“An’ of course there will be the annual costume contest. Everypony in town wants nothin’ more than to get their hooves on that there trophy…”
“If the normal…serving is for four…and taking into account the…differences in appetite of….foals and grown ponies…”
“And seein’ that you have probably seen and worn all sort of fancy costumes in Canterlot trick or treatin’…”
“…and of course, there…are allergies and…the tendency for ponies to…get pumpkin seeds…stuck in their teeth…and that they never can tell…that all pumpkins are gourds…but not all gourds are pumpkins…”
“Now ah know some folks think that only a youngun’ should be part of that contest, but ah ain’t never seen any rule about that. And don’t think ah am gonna take all the credit fer winnin’. Ah would consider it an honor fer the two of us to share that trophy…”
“…um…I think I can manage making the food.”
“I knew you’d see it mah way! Thanks fer helping me with mah costume!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Big Mac…did you say costume?”
“Of course ah did. Wut are you going on about food?”
“I’ve never worn…a Nightmare Night costume…in my life…as short…as it is…”
“Never worn a costume…”
“I was hoping…you would help me…with a costume…”
“I wuz hoping you could help me with a costume…”
“Do you know…anything about Nightmare Night…costumes?”
“Ah ain’t got the faintest idea…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…oh horseapples…”
“Oh…bother…”