This was awkward. This was so awkward.
Apple Bloom looked back and forth between the ponies at the table. Nopony was speaking. They were long, long past eating. The filly herself had finished her pancakes soon after they invited Flim in. She'd wanted to have a free, available, and empty mouth with which to pepper their guest with questions- not that the food didn't stop her from asking several anyways.
The other Apples had collectively decided not to finish their own plates. Applejack didn't even take a bite of hers; the whole, uneaten, glorious flapjacks sat there, getting soggy in syrup, while she glared daggers at the cream pony sitting across from her. Big Mac took a few bites of his, swallowed uncomfortably, then joined in looking at Flim, albeit less intensely. Granny Smith licked all the toppings off of her pancakes and tried to look cheerful, but it was obvious she was very aware of the elephant in the room.
Flim had started in on his own food with a gusto, eating like there was no tomorrow, while somehow keeping a moderate air of neatness and dignity about him. He answered Apple Bloom's questions only quickly and politely, halfheartedly, not really paying attention or putting in an effort to be showy with his replies. This confused the filly a bit, since it seemed out-of-character for him, but she at least knew enough to let the older ponies ask about that, specifically. It was only when two-thirds of his plate was gone that he suddenly realized everypony was staring at him.
That's when things skyrocketed from quiet discomfort to shift-in-your-seat awkwardness. Flim glanced down longingly at his plate, then looked back up at everypony else. They stared back at him. He glanced at his plate again, obviously wanting to finish his flapjacks, but a peculiar look- something almost like guilt- flickered across his muzzle, and he finally pushed the plate away.
Apple Bloom tilted her head at this. She decided she might as well be the one to break the silence; she felt like more of a neutral party than the others did at the moment, anyways. "Hey, Mister Flim, is there somethin' wrong with the flapjacks?"
Flim jumped a little, startled at the sound of her voice. Again, this was funny, considering she had been talking a few minutes ago. What in the hay had him so jittery and unfocused?
"I... uh... no, Miss Apple Bloom," he finally replied. "No, the pancakes were wonderful. I just... felt it might be appropriate to get down to business, as it is..."
There was a loud scraping noise, and Flim jumped again. Apple Bloom cringed and looked over at her sister. Applejack was standing up now, her front hooves balanced on the table. The scraping had come from her both sliding her chair back and pushing her plate at the same time. Without removing her burning gaze from its subject of destruction, she began silently stacking plates and taking them to the sink. Apple Bloom thought it was kind of creepy how she deliberately walked backwards to the faucet in order to keep glaring at Flim. Geez, Louise...
Applejack clacked the last rinsed plate down onto the counter and took a deep breath. Then she said, "Alright, get to the living room. You better have a very good reason for being in my house right now."
"The living room?" Flim repeated, looking somewhat bewildered.
Granny Smith let out a short chuckle. "Well, do you wanna have us all just sit around the table staring at you like this while you talk?"
A light smattering of red coated the cream pony's cheeks at the suggestion. "Oh. Yes, I suppose it would be better to get a little more comfortable, then." He slid off his seat and started to head for the living room. After a second, he stopped and turned to look back at them, shuffling his hooves.
Apple Bloom sighed and rolled her eyes. Obviously, he wanted someone to lead the way instead of him, seeing as this wasn't his own house, but none of the other Apples were decent enough to do so for him. Well, she'd just have to be the... watchamahoozit,,, Miss Cheerily just taught them this in class... medilator? Medigator? Mentanator? Mediator? That was it! She'd be the mediator. Yeah.
The little pony hopped off her seat and walked to the living room ahead of Flim. "Right this way, Mister Flim! Once you're settled and stuff, you can tell us what's got you all in a tizzy!" Flim laughed uncertainly, but nodded gratefully at Apple Bloom before following her in. The other Apples drifted along behind, seeming both curious about and dreading what Flim might have to say.
The pony in question halted in the center of the living room, glancing around. The Apple Family home was quaint, cozy, and proud of it. The room was small and somewhat sparse, but Apple Bloom loved the homey feeling in it all the same. There was a warm pumpkin-orange round rug in the center, with a daisy in the middle and little apples patterned around the edges. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had slept there in a pile of blankets many a night, flashlights and hot-cocoa near at hoof. In the corner by the door was a lavender curve-back couch with soft cushions. The little group liked to sit there when they went through scrap-books and story-books and the like. On the other side of the door was a small blue table with a picture of the Apple foals' late parents. Behind the table was a larger framed picture of the orchard, a small bookshelf set in the wall, and a little stool with a pillow, considered Apple Bloom's personal seat. This was where she headed upon entering the room.
Granny Smith went to her rocking chair, which was on the other side, by the stairs. Flim took in the available options and chose the couch, slowly sitting himself down in the middle. Applejack and Big Mac noted this and silently filed to the foot of the stairs, sitting side-by-side facing the couch. As everypony got themselves situated, Apple Bloom expected there to be another uncomfortable silence. To her surprise, Applejack got right to talking.
"Let's get one thing straight," she declared, her eyeballs still burning into poor Flim's skull. "I don't like you. I ain't never liked you, and I doubt I ever will. And I know for sure you don't like me, or you wouldn't'a gone through so much trouble to pester my family and friends with your dirty money-grubbin' schemes. I know all you care about is your bit count, and maybe your brother. Maybe. So, we're going to make this quick, and straight. Since you look like a tornado ran you over twice with a truck, and since you were willin' to come in here and spoil our breakfast all by yourself, I'm guessing this is about Flam, ain't it?"
Flim blinked at her in surprise. It was hard to tell if he was taken aback by how quick Applejack spoke when they sat down, or by how quick she'd cut to the chase. Apple Bloom sure as hay hoped he wasn't surprised by her intelligence; that was something none of the Apples would take lightly, least of all Applejack herself.
Thankfully, he quickly collected himself and didn't say anything that would've gotten his head bucked in. "Yes," he replied. "Yes, he's-"
"Waitin' outside the door to enact the next part of your scheme?" Applejack asked. "Or has he gone off and done his own get-rich-quick plan, and you feel all left out? Well, I have news for you! We're not helpin', whatever it is!"
"Hey!" Apple Bloom cut in. "At least let him talk! I don't like him much, neither, but I wanna know what he's doing here! We'll never find out if he doesn't tell us."
"But-" Applejack started, looking about ready to shoot steam out her nostrils.
"Aw, let him spit it out, Applejack," Granny Smith insisted with a wave of her hoof, lazily rocking back and forth in her chair.
The furious mare opened her mouth again, but was silenced with a dark look from her brother. She cringed slightly and sighed. It was enough to make her wonder sometimes if Big Mac had a Stare of his own. She looked back at Flim and growled, "Fine. Spit."
"Flam's been kidnapped!" Flim shot out quickly, as if he'd get cut off again if he didn't say it fast enough. When everypony else stared at him with something like shock, he bolstered some confidence and continued, "He got kidnapped last night, on the main road between Manehattan and Trottingham. We were on the end of the road closest to Ponyville. I spent all last night running here after it happened."
The other ponies continued to stare unblinkingly. It was clear this response was the last thing they expected. Apple Bloom saw the flash of hope that crossed Flim's muzzle, before he smoothed his look over. He was getting a little calmer, and better at covering his emotions. He clearly thought he was getting through to them. Well, maybe not so much...
"Kidnapped?" Apple Bloom exclaimed incredulously, unable to hold back. "Are you serious?"
"You really expect us to believe that malarkey?" Applejack added. "That there's the darnedest thing I've ever heard. It's so obvious it's a trick, it's painful."
"No, I-" Flim started, but was once again cut off.
"You just want us to use up our resources helping you with a wild goose chase!" Applejack went on. "And then Flam will just pretend to be rescued, or escaped, or whatever, and you'll have all our time and money, and what to we get? Just a bunch'a trouble!"
All at once Flim jumped off the couch, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. "Now, see here!" He erupted. "I come to you for help, indeed, I run for six hours to get here in the middle of the night, suck in my pride, and show up at your doorstep, and all I've gotten is a load of insults and accusations that I've done nothing to deserve!"
"Nothing to deserve?!" Now Applejack was on her hooves, too, stepping towards her opponent. "Nothing to deserve?! What the hay did you expect, coming here? That we'd take you in with open hooves, 'Oh, of course we'll help you, you didn't really mean to try and steal our land or run off our business or sell a fake medicine that nearly made our granny get herself killed!" We-he-heeell, you've got another thing coming, pardner. You can just take yourself and your lies out the door this instant before my back hooves escort you out personally!"
Flim advanced equally, teeth barred and grinding. "I would love to! Do you know that? You were never my first choice for help in this matter, why in Equestria would I ask for help from some country bumpkin with no business sense? You wouldn't know a good deal if it bit you in the tail!"
"Country bumpkin?!?!" Applejack screamed, blind with rage. Big Mac had to hold her back as she prepared to charge.
Flim continued, speaking rapidly, like he wanted to just get this over with already. "But, you know what? I don't have a choice! Because some darned magic black horse ran off with my brother, and he told me to find the most trustworthy person I know to lead me to the Celestia-forsaken Mordant Phooka, Canterlot knows what that is. And my first choice would have been my brother, he's the only person I trust, but, oh, look at that. He's not here! So what would be my second option? I just so happen to know the Element of Honesty by name!" The other ponies seemed to have frozen for some reason; Apple Bloom was sitting in the corner wondering what the hay was going on, and Granny Smith, Applejack, and Big Mac just looked flabbergasted about something. Flim was breathing heavily, and struggling to calm down. "And..." he was trailing off now. "And, even if we dislike, dare I say hate, each other, at least I know you won't lie to me, or deceive me like others would. I don't have a choice. I...." his voice became much quieter now, a barely audible whisper. "I just want my brother back..."
Apple Bloom looked from him to her family, trying to figure out what brought on the silence this time. "Er... can someone tell me what just happened?"
Granny Smith didn't say anything at first, and when she did she still didn't directly answer. "Did you just say you gotta find a phooka? Did my old ears here that right?"
"Eeyup." Big Mac nodded solemnly. He let go of his sister, but continued to scowl back and forth between her and Flim, trying to decide if one of them needed a bucking.
Applekack looked purely gobsmacked. "A... a... uh... a phooka?"
Flim's face contorted in confusion. "A phooka. Yes, that's what I said. The Mordant Phooka. I have to find him. Why is that so shocking?"
"Because phookas are right special critters-" Granny Smith started.
"And I think one snuck onto the farm last night..." Applejack confessed.
Now it was her turn to be stared at. Apple Bloom sighed in frustration. Great, what the hay was she missing this time?