The ponies were at an impasse.
Ms. Harshwhinny groaned. ''Ms. Apple, you have made no appearances at state-sanctioned bucking competitions. How am I to trust that you really can buck all these apples trees?''
Applejack leaned in, her taut, sweaty muscles brushing against the inspector's equally toned form. ''If you find evidence of my prowess lacking, perhaps I could give a personal demonstation. Shall I buck your apple trees?''
Lovingcup's heart fluttered in her chest, and a tingling shot through her nethers. She gruffly whispered back: ''Yes you can buck my trees, but can you do it... professionally?''