//------------------------------//
// 4. Apple 
// Story: Twist 
// by pinklover12 
//------------------------------//

Worst dinner party ever.

So many judgy eyes - but none more critical than the four on either of my sides.

When I left my childhood home, I didn't think I could possibly find anything more boring and more... harder than a farmer's life, but I must have found it.

This hairstyle is all too stuffy, and I've worn it all day. The drink is all too fizzy, yet it's all I've had to drink.

O, the life of the Manehattan upper crust! Such tedious work every day, and only one day I have lived! How dull, how monotonous, how stripe and insipid! How mundane and yet still how volatile the lifestyle of the high-class Manehattanite!

Ugh, now I'm even startin' to talk like them.

Finally - here the waiter comes with some food.

A long day of bein' fancy sure leaves me with an appetite...

What?

It's nothin' but a clover and and a lump of carrot!

As the others of the high-class blabbered on around me, I simply gazed out of the huge glass window, searching for the tiny speck of the town I once called home.

I sighed. No Ponyville in sight. Manehattan is not a city of regrets.

Might as well dig into the dinner.

I tentatively reached my nose towards the food and poked at it.

Smells good, might as well give it a try.

I hesitantly opened my mouth and bit down on the orange lump.

My eyes grew wide.

I have never tasted anything so delicious.

What words, even those of eloquence, can describe tasting a rainbow soaked in delight and sprinkled with sunshine? What divine celestial miracle of the stars and the heavens above might grace my taste buds so? What inspiration to create words and poetry and imagery alike might match or even capture my inspiration to create something so divine, so holy, so unmatchedly stupendous, so delicate yet so sure, so miraculous yet so desirable, so awesome, so incredible, so... so delicious as this?

"Applejack, close your mouth." My aunt Orange snapped from my right.

I readily closed my gaping maw, and swallowed my supper as well as a great half of my questions. Even through, I was still stunned with the absolute beauty of the dish I had just tasted.

"Aunt Orange, how do you make this food?"

Little did I know, yet at that very moment something had appeared on my bright orange flank. A gleaming white chef's hat, shaded with soft grey. A cutie mark. My cutie mark.