//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Over a Thousand Barrels // by WiseFireCracker //------------------------------// Now, he wasn’t a coward by any stretch of the imagination, but that one had him fighting back a terrified neigh. His hooves were set firmly against the ground, which was good for his reputation at least, as he would have stumble over had he been moving. There was no strength left in his lower appendages. In fact, Braeburn felt rather cold, as if the sun had stopped working properly and needed a good buck from the Princess to get it back to optimal service. The others were eying him with suspicion or horror. The one seemingly the worst off was of course his kin. Her hat had even started falling out of place, as she had reeled back at his reaction. “Y-yer not pulling mah leg this time, are ye, Braeburn?” She asked faintly. “What are you talking about, Applejack?!” Rainbow Dash groaned. “A pony that repeats the same days over and over? That’s impossible.” “As impossible as pulling off a Sonic Rainboom, dear?” Rarity raised an eyebrow at her. With her posh friend’s words, the pegasus seemed properly chastised, landing on the ground and trying to divert attention from herself. Luckily for her, Twilight was sensible to her friend’s predicament as much as she was for what might be a strange magical phenomenon. “As much as I want to dismiss Pinkie’s theory as nonsense…” “Heeeeey!” Said pink mare protested indignantly. “She is usually right about this sort of thing,” Celestia’s student in all things magical admitted, albeit with gritted teeth and a very sore grimace. Her reaction got a chuckle out of her friends. “Hum… Mister Braeburn.” The former supermodel – he was sure now, her cute attitude was just unmistakable! – surprisingly trotted forward. “I-is there anything we can help you with?” Taken aback, still struggling with digesting the news he had been given, Braeburn stared at the mares assembled. “I… I have no idea. Can you?” His heart sank further when none of the mares stepped forward, instead glancing at one another with hesitation. Not even Pinkie Pie seemed to know what to do, when she had been the one to offer an explanation! “Alright, we need to get organized,” Twilight declared, which was followed by an eager nod from the little purple dragon guy and a snicker from Rainbow Dash. “Otherwise we will not solve that problem. Since the apparent solution to the loop would be to change something that went wrong, we should find what needs to be resolved. Now… you were saying you dreamt of the future? What did you see?” For a moment, Braeburn grew uncomfortable. He remembered… he remembered seeing the look on their faces as the conflict had escalated. There had been anger, frustration… and pure dejection. Here they were, still trying to find the peaceful solution when most other players were on the verge of fighting… it seemed plain mean to dash their hopes like that. What was his problem in comparison to these ladies’ hopes? “Haha… well…” He started, looking everywhere but toward them. “After you bravely helped prevent armed conflict, the town suddenly discovered it was… huh…” Sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He was such a terrible liar! Dancing around them, his eyesight went to every possible explanation, from the train’s track, to his beloved town, to the river, to the… orchard… “Short on apples!” He shouted suddenly. “No conflict or battle with pies whatsoever!” Their faces all fell, though only Pinkie and Fluttershy for the reasons he was gunning for. Applejack in particular didn’t appear to believe him in the slightest. In terms of bad liar, he was probably only second to her. “Braeburn.” She gave him a flat look. “…Okay, yeah, that’s really what I meant…” He grimaced, lowering his head. “How did it happen?” Rarity asked, sounding both horrified and scandalized. Letting out a sigh, Braeburn felt like he had no other choice but to tell the good ol’ truth. “Well, for starters, Pinkie Pie’s singing will cause the Sheriff and the Chief to agree that war is the only way to solve the conflict.” “What?!” She screamed in dismay, her jaw dropping to the floor and her mane looking dangerously close to deflating completely. At that, he just felt like he had to say something to make her feel better. She was such a nice bubbly mare after all. “B-but it wasn’t because they didn’t like it…” The stallion ran to her side to pat her on the back. “They… huh… they just thought it was not lively enough! Their spirits weren’t raised to their limits, y’know? So there was still… war… with apple pies…” He finished dejectedly. “Oooooh, I see. A difficult public, eeeeeeh?” He didn’t like the smile on her face. Not one measly bit. “This just means I have to bring out my A-game.” If he could have, he would have blanched. And he did; under his fur, his face was a particularly pale shade of white. This couldn’t be good. -- They all had to hand it to her. When Pinkie Pie said she went all out, she went all out! “YOU GOTTA SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE!” He had gone deaf in the first few seconds of the show. Now he was fighting for his life, blinded by seven rays of colored lights, trying not to be blown away by the sound produced by the irresponsibly large speakers. But it was all in vain, his hooves were scraping against the ground at best, and his whole body felt ready to be sent flying. “She’s taking a deep breath!” A valiant fool took his hooves off his ears to warn the others. However, even in that small moment of respite, the earth shattering bass and piano were covering any and all other sounds. “COVER YOUR EARS!” “YOOOOOOU GOOOOOTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAA CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAaAaaAaaaaaaaaAAAAaaAAaaaaAAAAAAA-” Frrizt. Schtink. Thank Celestia’s spankable rump! The mic had exploded! They were saved! Their eardrums were the only casualties so far. But not even the blood tickling down from his ears could stop Braeburn from kissing the blessed ground of Appleloosa for letting him live to see another day. On stage, the pink disaster in scandalously thigh leather and white facial make-up seemed to just now realized that she had almost caused a few hundred heart attacks. As opposed, of course, to when she was singing so loudly windows were exploding. Hay, not a pony or buffalo could even stand! Just like before however, the leaders of the buffalos and the Appleloosans were in agreement on the worst performance ever. Probably as a nod to the effort put behind the preparations though, they did add that it was without a doubt the most audibly impressive thing they had ever heard in their entire lives. “Now, about those apple trees and how fast you’re going to remove them from our sacred stampeding grounds…” Chief Thunderhooves started, crawling toward his appleloosan counterpart. “Well, you see, Chief, I don’t think anypony here can really stand or fight.” “Same time in four days from now?” “Four days?” The sheriff scoffed behind his moustache. “So that you can stumble your way to our town and say it wasn’t fair? No way, we’ll meet up to massacre each other in six days.” “Oh now who’s stumbling everywhere crying because their ears hurt?” The dark buffalo tried to butt head with him, but fell out of balance mid-movement. “One week and a half!” “Two weeks!” “A month!” “DEAL!” They shouted simultaneously. -- Cock-a-doodle-doo! Braeburn did not need to stand up to know it was the day of his cousin’s arrival all over again. He had been able to hear the rooster after all. Distantly, he was surprised that Miss Pie’s efforts had been for naught. There certainly hadn’t been any conflict from the villagers or the buffalos. No one really felt up to the task, not even AJ or himself, with their legendary Apple clan work ethic. Then again, Pinkie Pie had deafened a town, a tribe of buffalo and five out of six bearers of the Elements of Harmony. …Quite a pyrrhic victory when he thought about it. Now that he thought about it in fact, he was quite glad that, after a day of suffering in bed with only Pinkie Pie as a nurse for the whole town, his injuries were a thing of the past. Well, she had said to find a key to this… loop stuff? He could scrub out “Let Pinkie change her song herself” off the list, and perhaps add a big note saying that whoever tried deserved to be kicked where Celestia’s sun don’t shine. -- “Hey Braeburn! Why don’t you tell us more about that marefriend that lives in Saddle Arabia?” Urgh, seriously, how had he gotten so unlucky as to fall in love with a mare that he had met in Manehattan, before she left for Saddle Arabia? It was like the setting of a joke! Which it was! Now pretty much half the town thought he was a coltcuddler. If only he had learned to lay off the salt when nursing his heartbreaks! Or alternatively, if old Salt Lick could learn not to get wasted before noon, it would be nice too. -- “Well, I’ll be! How’d yah know they’d be here, Braeburn?” “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing sinister and ominous,” Pinkie Pie said innocently, winking at him. He bit down a scathing remark and promptly chastised himself for even thinking it. What was wrong with him? That was not a proper stallion’s behavior at all. Oh sweet apple acres. This weirdy stuff was having an effect on his manners. Dang… -- “Now… you were saying you dreamt of the future? What did you see?” Twilight Sparkle – he had heard the name a few times already – was looking at him with the same curiosity and concern as before. “Well, after a certain… event that I must not name in fear of destroying the future or some whacky doodlehickey time thingy, the Sheriff and the Chief will challenge each other and there’s that big fight, but it didn’t end with the whole town razed or the buffalos sent packing.” “How did it end then?” She asked, leaning forward with a hopeful smile. “Well, y’see, I kinda threw an apple pie in the chief’s face…” -- The Plan, as his cuz’s companions had described, was perfect. By using his knowledge of the future, combined with their understanding of friendship, they would be able to skip over the whole fight entirely. “Chief, before the performance begins, we would like to offer you an Appleloosan pie as a token of appreciation for you and your warriors,” Rarity had said respectfully, bowing with elegance in front of the dark brown buffalo. A light of curiosity lit up in the chief’s eyes as he turned toward the white mare. The pie she was holding was Braeburn’s masterpiece. Its golden crusted circled around the crispy top, pierced in four spot to let only the most enticing aroma of apple out. After just a sniff, Chief Thunderhooves’s tongue had subconsciously gone over his lips, his eyes still carefully going over the local delicacy with interest. Despite himself, Braeburn could not keep a grin off his face as the buffalo leaned closer and closer… He would taste it! The battle wouldn’t need to happen after all! “Alright, guys, let’s get this party started!” A young boyish voice swiftly captured their focus. On stage, the little dragon bowed, unaware of what he had done. Instantly, as if an illusion or a charm had been broken, the chief’s attention returned to the soon-to-start musical number, as was his duty as leader of his tribe. “Later, young mare,” he said, his eyes lingering for a split second over the pie. “I shall taste this pie of yours once the conference put together by your friend is over.” Hearing this, Braeburn felt his eye start to twitch. So much for that! -- Of course he didn’t pause his declaration of war to taste the pie… Because why make things easy for them?! Even thinking back on his Pa’s sayings didn’t help him squash this bubble of frustration growing in his chest. At the very least, the chief tasted the pie later, after Braeburn had savagely thrown it in his face during the first seconds of the battle, so there was that... “How do you like them apples, Chief?!” He had shouted with way too much anger, but, maybe, just a little, this whole ‘repeat the previous day’ was pissing him off. Still, that time had been completely lost, it felt. It disappeared behind him in a blink. The fact that the orchard was back the next morning had finally convinced him that Miss Pie had been correct. He was in a loop. For further proof, he let things happen just like the last time, without changing a single word. And it all unfolded in the exact same way. The kidnapping, the song number, the war preparations, the song reprise… and the pie in the chief’s face. Everything had fallen into place as if nothing had ever changed. So far… he hadn’t withheld the pie throw that had stopped the whole battle. The very next morning, they tried again, with the same foolproof Plan they had put together. ‘It could not fail,’ they said. ‘Why hadn’t they thought of that before?’ They also said. Braeburn had to recite his Pa’s sayings not to correct them on their very wrong perception. Still, this time, he had made sure they were ten minutes early. “Chief, before the performance begins, we would like to offer you an Appleloosan pie as a token of appreciation for you and your warriors,” Rarity had said respectfully, bowing with elegance in front of the dark brown buffalo. A light of curiosity lit up in the chief’s eyes as he turned toward the white mare. The pie she was holding was Braeburn’s masterpiece. Its golden crusted circled around the crispy top, pierced in four spot to let only the most enticing aroma of apple out. After just a sniff, Chief Thunderhooves’s tongue had subconsciously gone over his lips, his eyes still carefully going over the local delicacy with interest. Despite himself, Braeburn could not keep a grin off his face as the buffalo leaned closer and closer… He would taste it this time! The battle wouldn’t need to happen after all! At least, unless they were interrupted again, which wouldn’t happen because the pink mare in the sexy dancer dress behind the curtain was not ready ye-! “Alright, guys.” No, no, no, no, no! “I know this is a little early, but our main singer said that if she didn’t start now, it would be useless, so… we’ll just go right away!” On stage, the little dragon bowed, unaware of what he had done. Instantly, as if an illusion or a charm had been broken, the chief’s attention returned to the soon-to-start musical number, as was his duty as leader of his tribe. “Later, young mare. I shall taste this pie of yours once the conference put together by your friend is over.” It was a good thing nopony had looked his way. His grin turned disbelieving wide open mouth had opted for a final metamorphosis into a superbly murderous snarl. And on top of everything, her performance was even worse than usual! -- Cock-a-doodle-doo! “G’d m’rning Applelooooosa…”He grumbled into his pillow. There had to be something he was missing. Something really really important. Obviously, if it had been just stopping the war, then the eardrums explosion event should have been enough on its own. No, there had to be a detail he was missing. It wasn’t just stopping the war. After all, the original chain of events led to a peaceful arrangement, even if their apples supplies were stretched thinner than a rattlesnake on a diet… “Oh listen to yourself, Braeburn,” the stallion said to himself. “It’s a beautiful day, a brand new day with a brand new chance to better your neighbors relations with the buffalos. Nothing to be upset about!” Satisfied by his own pep talk, the energetic Appleloosan grinned, trotting in his kitchen with gusto. Hay, there was this song bubbling down his throat. Holding nothing back, he hummed, before stopping dead in his track. ~You gotta shaaaaaare… you gotta caaaaaaare…~ Oh no… the song was stuck in his head! “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!” -- “Miss Pie, would you mind coming here for just a few minutes?” “Sure thing, Braeburn,” she replied, rapidly batting her eyelashes innocently. “But you must be quick about it! My musical number will start in about forty-two seconds.” “Oh, it won’t take long,” he said with a touch of steel in his voice. “Okay, then I’ll follow you in this dark alley far away from the stage where nopony will be able to see what you’re doing.” She giggled, as if in on a joke nopony could possibly get. “Or even hear me scream.” His eye twitch, but that didn’t stop him from following her into the shade of the buildings. Conspicuously, he glanced at the rope he had hidden there. -- “There you go! No musical number to piss them both off!” Braeburn said joyfully. “Now, the chief won’t get enraged tomorrow!” Wasn’t the world a wonderful place? Ah, he could hear the little scorpions and all the good ol’ rattlesnakes making their beautiful music. “Ain’t the desert sky just beautiful, Salt Lick?” He shouted to the drunken old stallion. Said old fart simply looked at him as if he was off his rocker. Which he was, with joy! Ah, now that the main obstacle was gone, they could finally get to an understanding! There would be peaceful negociations, everyone would be reasonable and ponies and buffalos alike would be able to go on their merry ways as if they hadn’t been on the verge of armed conflict. It would be great! Braeburn was feeling so joyful, in fact, that he was trotting at a slow pace, taking in the beautiful scenery offered by his favorite town in the whole Equestria. Ah, nothing could quite get a smile like the one he got every time he looked at the sunny sky, or the peaceful whistle of the wind as sole background noise. Hay, even if he strained his earing, there was nothing else for him to hear but th- ~ You gotta shaaaaare…~ Eenope! Eenope, nope, nope, noooooooooooooope, nope. Nope. His ears were playing a trick on him. Pinkie Pie was solidly tied up in a dark alley and officially unable to perform! He had heard the song enough times now that he was just imagining it! ~You gotta caaaare… ~ No! Lalalalala! That was impossible! He had tied her up to a bunch of anvils from the blacksmith’s place (which he really had to remember to thank for the rent)! Panicked, the earth pony put his all into a breathtaking sprint toward the stage, where he could heard Pinkie’s singing voice… and something else… Boink. Crash. Boink. Crash. ~ You gotta shaaaaaare… you gotta caaaaare… ~ Boink. Boink. Boink. Crash. Crash. Crash. Wait… Even when Braeburn arrived at the scene for the negotiations, his brain cells chose mass suicide rather than try to comprehend the strange spectacle in front of him. He wasn’t dreaming. Behind her springing, bouncing, elastic body, she dragged around five black anvils, which reflected the desert’s sunlight harshly into the audience’s eyes. Some of her friends, the white unicorn, in particular, seemed displeased with this magnifying item sending more light and heat her way. Her lips were glued together in a displeased pout that reminded Braeburn of his cuz’s face when she ate any fruit that wasn’t an apple. Even with this kind of glare aimed at her, Pinkie Pie’s energy was inexhaustible. On a single leg, she cartwheeled mid note, her troop of dancers immediately jumping back to dodge the incoming anvils. “You know…” Someone said to his left, and he thought the voice might belong to Little Strongheart. “At first, I was appalled… but it’s kinda impressive when you look at her jump all tied up like that…” Looking closer, he managed to catch a glimpse of the calf, as she looked up to one of her older compatriot. Said warrior was eying the stage with an air of respect. “That pink mare is strong. And dedicated.” “Yeah, that was not a bad musical number.” The young buffalo nodded, with the tone of someone that had actually appreciated the experience. For some reason, even if that was a total failure, he still felt like smiling. -- Cock-a-doodle-doo! “YOU GOTTA SHARE, APPLELOOOOOSA!” -- It now seemed evident that the pink mare was more of an unstoppable force of nature than a pony, so his new plan would have to involve working around the song of war rather than stopping it from coming into existence. The only question was… how should he do it?