//------------------------------//
// Apples are Serious Business 
// Story: More Dreams 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	“…and we called it the Industrial Revolution,” I finished.  It had been another late night with Twilight.  She’d filled two notebooks this time.
“So if we set up these ‘factories,’ we’ll produce consumer goods at unheard of rates?” she asked.
“Yep.  As a side effect, prices will go down because of higher efficiencies and lower demand.  The manufacturing centers will also create lots of new jobs,” I replied.
“Interesting.  Is there a downside?” she asked.
“Sure,” I told her.  “Pollution is a big one.  We'll also be raping the soil of its natural resources.”
“We’re not doing it, then,” said Twilight flatly.
“But we have to,” I told her.  “If there’s any hope for Equestria’s future, you need to take baby steps.  You have to have dirty, dangerous factories before you can evolve into clean, green ones.”
I rolled my eyes and went on.  “Of course, labor unions will probably get involved at some point, but that’s small potatoes.  I wouldn’t agree to eight hour days, anyway.”
Before Twilight could ask “more or less than eight hours?” I walked out of the library.  I’d first started talking to her about industry when I’d mentioned that I needed to go have a face-to-face meeting with some investors up in Stalliongrad.  We’d been exchanging letters, and they were interested in my petroleum products.  
Once I told Twilight that someone was actually interested in buying my fuel, she’d wanted to know why.  That had progressed into the all-night lecture on industry.
First, though, it was time for something to eat.  I walked down to the Ponyville market.  I wasn’t quite so hungry to visit the café, but just a little snack would be good.
I spotted Applejack and Big Macintosh working at their apple stand.  “Hey, I’m glad I saw you,” I said, walking over.  “I’ve been working on a joke.”
“Let’s hear it,” said Applejack.
I gestured to her brother.  “You know what they say about stallions with big hooves?”
Applejack scratched her head.  “Well, Big Mac has his own special cider mug because his hooves are too big to fit inside the handle on a regular-sized one.”
I shook my head.  “No, that’s not what I…nevermind.”
“Oh,” said Applejack.  “Ah’ve been meanin’ to ask you somethin’.  Are you free right now?”
“Damn right I’m free.  I’m an American.”
Applejack shook her head, apparently unwilling to debate U.S. vs. Equestria civil rights at the moment.  “We were thinkin’ about branchin’ out our business a little.  Maybe you could handle transportation.”
“I’m going to Stalliongrad later today,” I said.
“Perfect.  Can you take Big Mac and a couple of bushels of apples with you?”
“Sure, but wouldn’t it be easier for me to just take the cargo?”
“We’re serious about our apples,” she said.  She looked serious.  “Anypony but an Apple Family pony sellin’ our apples would be a violation of the accepted order of life.  We don’t want to get out of tune with nature.”
“Why?” I asked.
Applejack shook her head.  “It’s just earth pony tradition.  It’s the way we’ve always done it, and why mess with success?”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said.  “But what’s in it for me?”
“Um, how about apples?” she suggested.
I nodded.  “Fair enough.”  I went to go prepare the Monstrosity aircraft.  The cargo bay in the back had recently been fitted with an experimental weaponized prototype of Pinkie’s party cannon.  It wasn’t good enough yet to shoot solid cannonballs without overpressurizing and exploding, but loosely-packed shot worked.  
Unfortunately, (Twilight would say fortunately) nothing bad had happened recently and the cannon had yet to see active service.  Just like the industrial revolution, it would take baby steps to work my way up to machine guns.
I collected Captain Falcon, and got the engines started.  We flew out to Sweet Apple Acres.  Big Mac had left the market shortly after I did and was waiting when we showed up.
When Applejack said “a couple of bushels of apples” I figured somewhere between two and four.  It turned out to be twenty-three.  Macintosh was unperturbed, and found places to stack them all in the back of the aircraft.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Eeyup.”  He climbed in and settled his considerable bulk into the seat beside me.  Being the asshole that I am, I twisted the throttles wide open before he had his seatbelt on.  He acted like he didn’t notice the fact that we were zooming into the air.  Once the belts were bucked, he leaned back and went to sleep.
“Seriously?” I muttered.  Out over the Everfree Forest, I put the aircraft into a tight spiral.  If I had a glass of water, it probably would have spilled.  Mac didn’t appear to notice, so I upped my game.
Pushing the nose down to gain airspeed, I jerked the stick back violently and hauled the craft skyward again.  I’d never done that maneuver before, because I wasn’t sure if I would crash and die if I tried.
At the top of the loop, my seatbelts were fighting gravity, and I distinctly heard a few apples thudding against the ceiling.  I got Monstrosity straightened out before we crashed.  Big Macintosh snoozed on.
I’d seen what the red stallion could do when properly motivated.  Things like moving Berry Punch’s house.  That’s why I didn’t resort to more direct methods of annoying him, such as poking with my switchblade.
I wished they’d sent Braeburn instead.  That guy was at least fun to antagonize.

As soon as the aircraft touched down in Stalliongrad, Mac was awake.  Without even pausing to yawn, he began pulling bushel baskets of apples out of the back.
“I’m going to go see some ponies about making a deal,” I said.  Macintosh didn’t give any indication that he had heard me, but I was reasonably sure that he did.  I walked away to the designated meeting place.
I kind of figured that I was dealing with shady characters.  The meeting place was supposed to be secret, and it just felt like some kind of organized crime to me.  I did take steps to protect myself, but I didn’t think that they were the type to kidnap me or something.
I was wrong.  They totally kidnapped me.
As I walked into the building where the meeting was supposed to be, a hood dropped over my head, and after struggling for a while I got tied up and carried somewhere.
My so-called business associates deposited me on a chair.  The hood was whipped off.  A dozen serious-looking ponies surrounded me.  A blue unicorn mare stood front and center.
“Plymouth Valiant,” she said.  “We meet again.”
I rolled my eyes.  Seriously?  Her?
She noticed my expression and apparently took it to mean something else.  “Why yes, it is me, the Great and Powerful Trixie!  Months ago, you tried to humiliate me!  Well, Trixie does not forget such acts.  I have lured you here to have my revenge, and I shall have it!”
About halfway through her little speech, I had started shaking my head in disbelief.  She walked closer.  “Oh, are you trembling in fear already?  Well, there’s much worse things in store for you!”
Just to throw her off, I looked her in the eye and smiled.  A trace of confusion flitted across her face before being replaced once more by overconfidence.  
“Do you have anything to say before we begin?” she asked.
I made a little motion with my head, and she came closer.
She certainly didn’t expect a knife blade to come shooting out from between my lips.  Yeah, I sometimes keep my switchblade in my mouth.  What else should I do with it?  I don’t have pockets.
My timing was off by just a little bit, and I failed to cut Trixie’s face off.  She still jumped back in surprise, which gave me room to slice at the ropes that held me.  I stood up from the chair.
“How’s that for a trick?  I call it the Cobra Steel Spit.  Like that?  I made the name up on the spot.  You wish you could be so cool.  Insane paranoid preparedness saves me again!”
I had no idea whether Trixie understood any of that, as my words were somewhat garbled by the knife in my mouth.  I spent a little too long saying it, however, and a couple of her goons piled on top of me.  I was forced to drop the switchblade, which stuck in the floor and stood straight up like a fence post.
“Your foolish tricks will not work!” shouted Trixie.  I noticed a tiny drop of blood on the end of her nose from an insignificant wound I had apparently inflicted.  I wished that I could have instead managed to surgically remove that smirk from her face, but such is life.
“Now, you were observed arriving with a load of cargo,” she said.  “Tell the Great and Powerful Trixie what it consisted of.”
“Apples.”  I didn’t see any harm in talking about it.  I mean, fruit isn’t exactly as valuable as gold.
“Apples?” she demanded.  “The Great and Powerful Trixie hates that fruit!  It should be banished from the land!”
Everything in the room suddenly went quiet.  The sound of slow, heavy hoofsteps had interrupted all conversation.  The door swung open.
“What did you say about apples?” rumbled a deep voice.
“Oh, hey Mac,” I said from beneath the pile of henchponies.
“Seize him!” shouted Trixie.  The eight or so goons who weren’t holding me down rushed forward.
I don’t exactly know what happened next.  Big Macintosh acted more quickly than I would have thought him capable of.  Some kind of red magic glow streamed from his hooves as he moved.  Bad guys went flying in all directions, one of them slamming into the pile of his buddies on top of me, scattering them like bowling pins.
Trixie’s face was blank with surprise.  I stood up and watched as she and Mac circled each other.  She tried a couple of small magic attacks that either missed or bounced off him.  She maintained a blue protective bubble of magic around herself the whole time.
At some point, Big Macintosh decided that there was no point in playing with Trixie any longer, and—holy shit, was that a Hadouken?  
Oh, no wait, it wasn’t.  He just hoofed her energy shield so hard that Trixie went skidding across the floor, his red aura knocking aside her blue one.  
Trixie was sent tumbling around the inside of her bubble.  She ended up near me, the magical protection dissolving.
She got up unsteadily, aiming her horn at Big Mac.  I smashed the chair over her head and she dropped like a rock.
Macintosh and I stood there for a few seconds in silence.  I noticed the glow from his hooves had faded.  
“Are you going to say it?” I asked him.  He looked at me quizzically.  
I sighed.  “Fine, I’ll say it.”  I turned to Trixie’s limp form.  “How do you like them apples?”
Big Macintosh shook his head and started for the door.  I picked up my switchblade and went after him.  “Hey, wait up,” I called.  “That red glowy stuff was awesome, how did you do that?”
“Earth pony magic,” he said.  “Weren’t nothin’.”
“Holy shit.”  I paused.  “Hey, I’m an earth pony.  Can I do that?”
He didn’t answer and I followed him all the way back to Monstrosity.
“Come on, tell me,” I said.  “Is this the ‘accepted order of life’ and ‘being in tune with nature’ that Applejack was talking about?   I want to learn this.”
I gestured to the cannon mounted on the aircraft.  “I can’t always rely on weapons.  Heck, I don’t even know what we could have loaded this thing with.  Apples, maybe.”
He gave me a sharp look.  “Sorry!” I said.  “Guess I can’t even joke about apples.”
Mac turned away, going about his business seriously.  He collected the load of apples and headed off to the Stalliongrad market to sell them.
I hung around the aircraft for a while with Captain. 
“It’s not fair,” I said.  “Just because I want to exploit the environment, mother nature won’t let me be all cool and tap into earth pony magic.”
The bird preened his feathers and did not reply.
“Screw this,” I said.  “I’m going to try and teach myself how to throw a fireball.”