Applejack was not, as some might have claimed her to be, a silly pony. She knew a lot of things. She knew that it was 12:06 PM. She knew for sure that the apple in her hoof was green. And she knew when there was something wrong with her.
Some ponies might have viewed her as simple. They may have heard her accent, taken into account her farming job, and assumed her to be a simpleton. It was a stereotype she neither enjoyed not exemplified, but it was a stereotype nonetheless, and she couldn't deny that.
The fact remained, though, that Applejack did not validate this stereotype. She was a smart, insightful pony. She loved her friends and valued their help when needed, but overall, she was an independent pony, capable of handling herself and her own business, as well as able to discern when something was wrong with her. And right now, something was wrong with her, although she was fairly certain it was something she could handle.
Her inability to lie to Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon on her way home from the picnic yesterday was disquieting. She certainly didn't enjoy lying as a normal practice; anypony who knew her knew this to be true. Honesty was a quality that she held near and dear to her heart. That did not mean, however, that she never lied. There were certain specialized situations where she felt a little white lie was better than the truth, few and far between as said situations might be. As far as she figured with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon yesterday, it was easier to try and tell them that she had no money on her, rather than to say she was intending to buy cookies from Apple Bloom. If the two really tormented her and her friends as much as she was led to believe, then doing so would have just added more fuel to the fire. Her intended decision, in her mind, was the easiest way to go about things without causing anypony any grief.
So why, then, had she found herself unable to lie to those two? It was clearly what she intended to do. It was clearly the best option of the ones she could think of. And it was clearly not what she ended up doing, as her saddlebag, now lighter by the weight of exactly eight bits which were supposed to be going to Apple Bloom, could prove. Or perhaps the added weight of the two boxes of cookies would make for better proof. Their weight was a little easier to measure than that of a few bits. Either way, all signs pointed to her intended decision being one of the best decisions she'd never made.
She'd ruminated (a fancy word she learned from Twilight, and certainly more proof that she was not a silly pony) over this upon arriving at home, once she'd finished enduring Bloom's complaints. Try as she might, she couldn't come up with a good reason for it, and entertained the idea that it could possibly have been a slip of the tongue and nothing more. This, of course, was all before the events of that evening's dinner.
Granny Smith had bought a new hat the previous weekend, and she had spent quite a bit of time talking about how stylish it was and how "hip and with the times" she was for making such a purchase. Neither Applejack nor Apple Bloom had the heart to tell her that it looked positively ridiculous. Or at least they hadn't before today, and Bloom's stranglehold on the truth's release was still strong. Applejack, however, was another story. As soon as Granny sat down at the table with the offending headwear securely in place atop her head, Applejack quickly let her know exactly what was wrong with the garment. For the second time that day, the words escaped her mouth before she even found the opportunity to try and stop them. This number quickly grew to three when she deftly deflected Granny's glare to Big Macintosh by admitting that he'd convinced Granny to purchase the hat for the sole purpose of chuckling at her. This made Big Mac a rightful target for Granny's frustrations, but somehow that fact was lost on him as he stared daggers at the sister who'd sold him out to save her own hide.
Applejack decided to head to bed early that night, having successfully upset all of her immediate family. By this point, she'd dismissed any prior notions that the incident with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon was a fluke. She was a very honest pony, sometimes to the point of bluntness, but she wasn't one to just blurt out insensitive truths without thinking her words over first. Talking without thinking was a Pinkie Pie thing; it often seemed like that mare was incapable of logical thought. She felt bad immediately upon thinking such a hurtful thing about a wonderful friend like Pinkie. It seemed that this whole unerring honesty thing was making its way into her active thought processes as well. Her frustrations with this odd affliction carried on well into the night.
By the time she woke up this morning, Applejack had decided that she knew pretty much what was going on. Something, although she didn't know what, was compelling her to tell the truth without fail. While telling the truth was a fine thing and typically nothing to be worried about, a complete inability to lie just wouldn't do, and any strange affliction like this needed to be taken care of regardless. She spent her morning work time thinking about exactly what was to be done about this, a process which was made easier by her family's general reluctance to talk much to her after last night's events.
Applejack eventually decided that she would have to power her way out of this mess. She was always a willful pony; sometimes a bit too willful, as her overly-honest mind reminded her. She had briefly considered going to Twilight for help, but decided against it in the long run. Twilight was very knowledgeable, always managed to figure out solutions for any problems that they or their friends came up upon, and was always happy to help. This didn't sway Applejack's decision in the least. She didn't want to bother Twilight with what she perceived to be such a silly thing. If she wanted to stop telling the truth, then by gosh, she would do just that. She was a strong, stubborn mare, and she would beat this herself without forcing her problems upon her friend. After all, how hard could it be to lie?
Applejack stared at the apple in her hooves. It was a beautiful pippin, a perfect specimen if ever there was one. The pippin apple, also known as Newtown pippin and Albemare pippin, was one of the oldest apple varieties to come out of Equestria. It was believed that there were both green and yellow varieties of pippin, though the differences between the two were very subtle and dependent upon growing conditions. This one, however, was quite decisively green, and thus made an ideal test subject to help overcome this affliction.
She stared the tart treat down. Her belly was rumbling; she hadn't even gone to have lunch yet, her mind too focused on dealing with her malady. Its greenness invaded her brain, stunning in its vibrancy. Truly, it was an exemplary fruit, worthy of the Sweet Apple Acres brand. Her concentration right now, though, was on its color. Or, rather, its not-color.
The farmer flooded her brain with images of juicy red apples, bright red wagons, and large, soft-spoken big brothers. She thought of her sister's mane, her own cutie mark, and the strawberry jam she'd put on her toast this morning (an image which did nothing to relieve her hunger). Anything she could think of with that particular coloration was allowed residency in her mind for the moment, for red was what she needed to concentrate on right now. She kept her eyes closed, visualizing all the reddest of the red things she could dream up. Then, with another breath, she opened her eyes, focusing on the apple. She spoke as immediately as she could, lest the images leave her head,
"This apple is green."
Applejack cursed under her breath. She knew the apple was green, but right now she needed to deny it. She was strong. She was stubborn. There was nothing that could beat her indomitable will. She was Applejack, who aided in the defeats of Nightmare Moon, Discord, Queen Chrysalis, King Sombra, and a bunch of vines. She would not be defeated by unrelenting honesty.
"This apple is green."
Darnit.
"This APPLE is GREEN."
Darnit.
"This apple is r...r...rrrrrr..."
Almost there...
"...Rrrrrreally green!"
Applejack bucked her chair into the wall, leaving a scuff on it. Granny Smith would be incensed when she saw the damage, but she couldn't worry about that now. She needed to beat this thing. She was determined to do it without getting anypony else involved, and each defeat only served to fuel her determination. She didn't need help from Twilight or anypony else. This was her problem, and she would deal with it.
She glared angrily at the delicious fruit, the delectable delight which did not deserve the rage she was exuding towards it. Her hoof shook as it held the treat whose flawless pigmentation mocked her so. She gritted her teeth, digging her rear hooves into the ground with relentless determination. It would work this time. She would accept nothing else.
"This...apple...is..."
She filled her lungs to capacity, then shouted, a yell that nearly shook Granny Smith's fine china from the kitchen shelves.
"...RED!"
Applejack opened her eyes, feeling all the tension melt away at the utterance of that marvelous word.
"Hah!" she laughed triumphantly. "Now that's what I'm talking-"
Her voice failed her as she looked at the apple in her hooves. Her mouth went dry as she watched its brilliant green skin shimmer and shift to a deep red.
There was a wet thud on the floor as the apple fell from its perch, followed by a frantic clip-clopping of hooves as Applejack galloped out of the farmhouse and towards the library.