//------------------------------//
// Bonbon's Wager 
// Story: The Campaign for Extra Trixie, and other unlikely experiments 
// by Impossible Numbers 
//------------------------------//

	“I actually wanted to show you something up at Sweet Apple Acres,” said Lyra, while they both were walking along. Bonbon nodded, while her eyes frantically darted between the horizon and the sun, triangulating the angles, and therefore the time. It couldn’t be that late, could it?
“Iz Applejack havink a bet viz her bruder again?” she said, when she felt she could concentrate fully on her speech once more.
“Not exactly. Why are you speaking in that funny accent now?” said Bonbon’s friend.
“I told you this before,” she replied. “Weren’t you listening?”
“I don’t remember it.”
Bonbon sighed. “It’s for a comedy routine at Sugar Cube Corner. Pinkie's tutorials, because she needs them like Fluttershy needs a spine. I’ve got to get into character, and a little practice each day stops you going astray – I mean, shtops you goink ash-tray. You shee?” Just to be on the safe side, she threw in a rough “eins, zwei, drei” under her breath.
“But this one sounds funny,” said the mare, chuckling. “It sounds like your voicebox is sore.”
“Zat's the idea. To be frank, it shounds like my voicebox ish lozing a bar fight viz my nose und mein lungs, but if I vant dat role, zen I can talk like ziz ‘til I get ze paycheck, OK?”
The turnout along the south field fence was impressive – most of the town had turned up to watch. Lyra and Bonbon squeezed through the crowd and placed their hooves on the white fence.
“Listen,” said Bonbon. “Iz ziz going… iz ziz goink… oh, forget it, is this going to take long?”
“Oh, no, it won’t take long. Watch.”
Bonbon followed her friend’s pointed hoof, but she was distinctly unimpressed. There were two rows of apple trees, like you would expect to find on any respectable orchard. There were two rows of buckets, one beneath each tree, like you would expect to find during any respectable applebuck season. There were two Apple ponies pawing the ground at one end of the rows, like you would expect to find if you shouted out the names “Granny Smith” and “Big Macintosh” and waited for them to come see what you wanted.
The crash helmets were kind of new, though. And so were the goggles. And the two cannons.
Bonbon wasn’t usually one for seeing ponies inflict grievous bodily harm upon each other – it made her feel guilty watching them – but ponies inflicting the same upon their own hides was a little more justifiable, and in any case too hilarious to pass up.
“Ah challenge you, Big Macintosh,” cried Granny Smith, adjusting her helmet and preparing to climb into the barrel, “to knock through as many trunks as you can.”
“So who do you think I should bet on?” Lyra whispered into Bonbon’s ear.
“Eh?”
“The bet. We’re all having bets. Should I bet on Granny Smith, or Big Macintosh?”
“Alright,” said Granny Smith in her wizened voice. “We’re getting’ in! Then we’ll see who has the hard head! Last chance to back out now! Do yer accept mah challenge?”
Big Macintosh’s response was to let go of his goggles, letting them snap over his eyes. “Eeyup.”
As the two Apple ponies climbed into their respective barrels, Bonbon turned to face Lyra. “You brought me out here to help you with a bet?”
“Well, it is a close one. Carrot Top’s got odds of 3 to 1 in favour of Granny Smith, but Berry Punch says Big Macintosh will win easily.”
“Just–” Bonbon waved a hoof irritably. “Just pick one. Er, Big Macintosh. Pick him. Pick him.”
“Granny Smith it is, then.” Lyra turned round to face another pony, and dropped three bits into Berry Punch’s hoof. “Good turn out, isn’t it?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for all the punch in Ponyville,” said Berry.
Bonbon gaped. "What? Who did you just bet on?"
`	“Are you going to place a bet too, Bonbon?” said Berry.
“What? No. Can’t. Don’t have any money on me.”
“Oh, too bad. So far, it’s been an even split of fifty-fifty. I was hoping you could tip the balance.”
“I could sabotage one of the cannons, if you want.” Bonbon fumed. “That would tip the balance pretty darn dramatically, I should think.”
A fanfare sprang up, hushing the last of the crowd’s chatter. Somewhere off to the right, Spike the dragon began drumming, an important component in building up suspense – and particularly impressive, as he was using two drumsticks on a couple of pony heads. Their vibrating owners looked less than amused.
"Granny Smith?" said Bonbon to Lyra. "Granny Smith?"
The cannons were ready – only the two helmets and the goggles could be seen poking out of the barrels. Behind them, Pinkie Pie and Applejack seized a fuse each and took three steps back, ready to pull at any moment.
On the side, Spike was approaching the climax of his solo when the two ponies decided to lodge a formal complaint, the essence of which involved bucking him off their backs and delivering a joint-kick that sent him flying into a bell. It dinged.
Both fuses were pulled, and a double blast sent the Apple ponies flying out of a vast plume of smoke.
Everypony's head traced the trajectory, which was accompanied by a series of crunching noises. The noises, and the pony heads, stopped within seconds.
The row of trees now had perfect circles bored cleanly through each one. Apples were raining down from those branches that were still shaking, and soon every bucket was full to the brim. A lot of mental arithmetic followed as the ponies fell into concentrated silence.
“Big Macintosh, twelve. Granny Smith, seventeen.”
“YES!” shrieked Lyra, turning around to face Berry. Berry groaned and handed over the bits, which Lyra quickly counted out. “Nine bits! Woohoo!”
The crowd began cheering. After they pulled the stunned Big Macintosh and Granny Smith out of the last trees, the two ponies moved aside. Granny Smith stumbled and muttered something incoherent, but she looked dizzily pleased at herself. She turned to Big Macintosh. They shook hooves, before beaming at the applause.
Bonbon pursed her lips as Lyra jumped up and down, cheering.
"That wasn't a fair contest," she said stubbornly. "Didn't anypony notice her helmet fell off?"