A Busman's Holiday

by Parchment_Scroll

Merry and Meanie

Author's Note: Your enjoyment of this chapter does not hinge upon watching the following video, but if you're going to watch it, please do so before reading the chapter. There will be a quiz. (The quiz is in the video itself.) If you're familiar with the video, then feel free to skip it. If you're not familiar with the video, feel free to skip it, but know that once you've read the chapter, your answers to the quiz are likely to change.

Canterlot (Lost Town)
Lost Town is a hub of activity most days, as Lost Colts filter in and out, dropping off the coin purses, handkerchiefs, and such that they pick up in the course of their daily activities. But today, in addition to all of that normal activity, the Colts stop to chatter away at each other. There is an air of excitement about the dilapidated textile-mill-turned-hideout, of the new and interesting.

By the end of the day, Shanks realizes, he could have his hoof on the pulse of Canterlot in exactly the way that Deft Hoof always strove for. And all it took was a little trust. He grins, knowing that even if Deft Hoof is upset, the results will speak for themselves.

Memories, unbidden but not unprompted, took the place of dreams. A big family reunion - right here in Ponyville, as I recalled, at Sweet Apple Acres - where a frightened young colt met and befriended a distant cousin, and started to get the ideas that would later form the foundation for his core philosophy.

And then, just two weeks later, another family reunion, for another family, and the rest of his philosophy would take form.

"That's a silly name," the colt said, giggling. "You have a silly name!"

"I know I do!" said the filly. "I love love love silly things, don't you?"

"I'm not gonna call you by that silly name," the colt said. "I'm gonna call you 'Meanie', 'cause you're not!"

The filly giggled. "Well, then, I'm gonna call you 'Merry' 'cause you're so silly!"

I didn't want to wake up. If I woke up, I would have to rejoin the world where that pounding, throbbing pain in my head would be a real, immediate concern. If I woke up, I would have to feel it. If I woke up, I would have to acknowledge that I had been knocked out.

Tentatively, I cracked open an eye. I was in a bedroom, alone. Night hadn't yet fallen, but the angle of the sunlight filtering through the curtains indicated it was at most a couple of hours away. I sighed. If the whole trip was like this room, I would return to Canterlot fully relaxed. Unfortunately, I knew better.

I had recognized the voice calling out from behind me. I knew that nickname. Only one pony ever called me Merry. Only Meanie. But what was Meanie doing here? Could the Princesses have missed that, or was this one of their little gags? Dear Luna, if Meanie was in Ponyville I would never get a moment's peace.

But boy would I have fun!

I pondered getting up, but I was so comfortable. I had been sent here to relax, after all, I rationalized. While I debated this with myself, I heard talking coming from the hall.

"Oh my gosh," said the cheerful voice I was sure was Meanie's, "I am soooooo sorry! I should go in and tell him I'm sorry!"

"Come on now, Sugarcube, Ah think he needs ta rest a bit afore y'all go in thar."

"Awww," said Meanie, and I could easily picture her expressive little face (she'd been just a little filly the last time I'd seen her, just weeks after I'd last seen A.J., in fact) drooping. I couldn't bear to think of little Meanie all sad like that, so I crawled out of bed.

Okay, I catapulted out of bed, quivering with excitement. Where I'd been convinced a trip to Ponyville would be dull, dull, dull, it was turning into just one unexpected treat after another. I burst through the bedroom door just as she had perked up, too, which was great. A happy Meanie is the bestest Meanie ever. "Oooh!" she was saying. "I should totally make him a big welcome cake!"

"MEANIE!" I shouted cheerfully, and A.J. started and whinnied.

"MERRY!" she shouted back, bouncing happily in front of me. Ah, little Meanie, my favoritest cou--

I stopped short. It just wasn't fair. Tiny little Meanie had grown up, fine, I get that. It had been years after all. But must everypony be taller than me?

"Whoa up, thar, Sugarcubes," said Applejack. "Are you sayin' y'all two know each other?"

Meanie nodded, grinning maniacally. "Yupper-duppers!" she chirped. "But I haven't seen him in years and years and years and years!"

I laughed. "This is the greatest vacation ever!" I said. "Wow! I didn't know you were in Ponyville! I mean, yeah, I knew there was a Pie in Ponyville, but I didn't know you were here, too!"

Meanie giggled. "Whaddaya mean 'too', silly billy? I'm the only Pie in Ponyville!"

I blinked. "Wait, you didn't know?"

"Know what?"

I laughed. "Only the bestest news ever!" I crowed. "Only the most famousest Pie ever, and you didn't know she lives in Ponyville too?"

Applejack looked back and forth between us. "Whut in tarnation are yuh yammerin' on about, Orange Meringue?"

I stared at her. "Oh, come on," I said. "I mean, I can kind of understand Meanie not knowing, but you have to know what I'm talking about, A.J.!"

Merry grinned. "Oooh! Is it Punkin? Punkin Pie's moving to Ponyville? Wait, no. Blueberry! Blueberry Pie is way more famous than Punkin Pie! No! Cherry Pie!" She started rattling off names... I had forgotten just how many Pies there are in Equestria. There are a lot. Like a lot a lot. And apparently, Meanie's standards for "famous" are... well... inscrutable.

"No, silly!" I said. "Pinkie Pie!"

"Well, who?" she said, tilting her head at me.

"I just said! Pinkie Pie!"

"What?"

"Pink. Eee. Piiiiieeeeee."

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"

I blinked.

"Oh, you're kidding."

"I dunno," she said. "Am I? You're the one who keeps not telling me who else lives in Ponyville!"

I facehoofed. "Meanie, what does everypony here call you?"

"Pinkie Pie, duh!"

Of course she was. And I had just stood there yammering away at her without even thinking "could Pinkie Pie and Pinkamina Diane Pie possibly be the same pony?" and made a complete fool of myself. As usual.

"Nevermind," I said. "There's no other pies in Ponyville, I'm just a silly-billy."

"Pinkie, would you mind tellin' me how y'all know each other, and just why mah cousin's callin' one o' the nicest ponies in Equestria a meanie?"

Pinkie giggled. "Oh, Applejack," she said patronizingly, "I think you're confused. How are you confused? Merry and I are the ones who hit our heads! Your head shouldn't be all wobbly inside like ours are! This is my favoritest fifth cousin Merry! And he's not calling me mean, he's calling me Meanie! He says he calls me Meanie 'cause I'm not, which is just the silliest thing ever, and I love silly things because they're so much fun, and--"

"Whut? Naw, Pinkie Pie, this's mah fifth cousin Orange Meringue. Ah think y'all are the one's confused!"

I laughed. "This is the bestest vacation ever!" I said. "I get to spend it with my two favoritest fifth cousins!"

"Whut?" Applejack stared at me in confusion.

Meanie just got even more excited. "Oh? Who? Who who who tell me tell me! I need to know who else is coming so I can bake a really big cake! Oh! We should have a family reunion!"

I couldn't stop laughing. I needed to know whose idea this had been - Celestia's or Luna's - so that I could thank them properly. Preferably with a magic marker while they were sleeping, but it would be out of gratitude, not spite.

"You two, silly!" I said. "A.J. my favorite cousin on my mom's side, and Meanie, my favorite cousin on my dad's side! Wow!"

"Wait," said Applejack, putting it together. "Y'all two are related?"

I grinned and nodded. "My full name, which nopony ever calls me by" -- true, that -- "is Orange Meringue Pie. Meanie here is my fifth cousin on my dad's side."

"Ooh! How is Uncle Key Lime?"

I grinned. "He's great! He's just loving the real estate business, since Mom's so good at it and all."

"And Ah'm yer cousin on yer maw's side," Applejack said. "Well don't that beat all! Ah never realized!"

"Realized what?" Meanie frowned, then pulled out a large piece of paper, on which was a simplified version of my family tree. "Waaaaaiiiit a minute," she said. "If you're my fifth cousin on your daddy's side..." She drew her hoof along the paper from a picture of her grinning face to mine. "And you're Applejack's fifth cousin on your mommy's side..." She continued the line past me to a grinning A.J. head. "...then that means Applejack is my fifth cousin on my your side!"

I facehoofed. "Close enough," I said. It made them ninth cousins, but I wasn't about to stop her when she was on a roll, even if I wanted to and put forth my best effort. After all these years, I remembered that much about her.

"Well shucks," said A.J. "Now y'all really are Apple family, Ah reckon!"

Meanie grinned. "I guess so, Applejack!" she said. "Oooh!"

"What?" I asked.

"Do you know what this calls for?" Before either of us could answer, the pink bundle of energy leapt into the air, explosions of confetti from... somewhere... flourishing behind her. "A PARTY!"

Meanie was gone in a blur of pink, leaving A.J. and me blinking in her wake.

"Well," the farmpony drawled, "y'all gone and done it now. We ain't gettin' outta this one without a party, an' given jest how excited Pinkie wuz, it's gonna be a doozy!"

I grinned. "Great!" I said. "I love a good party!"

"Well, that thar Pinkie Pie throws the best in Equestria," said A.J. "Shoot, Ah reckon yer plum tuckered out after alla that excitement, an' you jest now gettin' inta Ponyville an' all."

I laughed. "Who, me? Nah, I got plenty of sleep on the train. Not to mention however long I was out after Meanie clonked me. I'm good to go!"

A.J. grinned. "Well shucks," she said. "How's about Ah go ahead an' give y'all the five bit tour o' the farm afore supper?"

Sweet Apple Acres was (and still is) pretty darn appropriately named. The place was huge -- massive orchards of apple trees ranging from little tart apples to big juicy sweet ones. A field of barren trees caught my eye, and I remembered that same field from my foalhood visit.

A.J. noticed where I was looking and cracked a grin. "Yup!" she said. "Y'all done missed zap apple season agin."

"I swear," I said. "One of these days I have got to see that for myself. Magic rainbow apple trees... I'm still not sure I believe it."

"Shucks, Orange Meringue, if it wasn't fer that there field o' zap apples, there wouldn't even be a Ponyville," A.J. said. "Y'all tellin' me ya ain't never had none o' our Sweet Apple Acres Zap Apple Jam?"

"Well, back when we had that big double family reunion," I said, "but it sells out pretty quick up in Canterlot. Limited supply, high demand... Stuff ain't cheap up there, you know?"

A.J. snorted. "Well, that just ain't right," she said. "Grown stallion like yerself, and ya ain't had zap apple jam but the one time? T'ain't natural!"

"Well, hay," I said. "We can't have every little thing we want in life, now can we?"

"Shucks, naw," said A.J., "but this ain't no 'little thang', pardner, and y'all bein' family an' all. Why, Granny Smith'd buck me straight inta next week if'n Ah didn't do nothin' ta remedy that thar situation proper-like."

I grinned. "Well," I said, "we can't have that now, can we?"

"Shoot, naw," A.J. agreed. "Ah'll jest hafta make sure y'all git a couple jars next zap apple season." She nudged me in the ribs. "'Course Ah'll need yer address so's Ah kin ship 'em to ya."

Ooh. That wouldn't do. My home in Canterlot was kind of a dive, and under an assumed name to boot. And my quarters in the Palace, well... First, I hardly ever touched them - they were more of a courtesy, a privilege of office that almost never got used in the history of the post - and second, I couldn't exactly tell her about them without going into why I had them in the first place. "I dunno," I prevaricated, "I travel a lot. Out and about, you know" -- amongst the street ponies, beggars, and thieves of Canterlot, mostly -- "but I'll tell you what. Just let me know next time zap apple season rolls around and I'll come see it for myself, and get my jam then!"

"Even better!" A.J. said. I'd learned a long time ago that the best way to lie to an honest pony (like an Apple) is to tell them just a part of the truth and let them fill in the blanks with what makes sense to them. "Um... how?"

I laughed. "Well, I do a lot of work for Princess Luna," I admitted, not that she needed to know what sort of work. "So she always knows how to reach me."

"Ain't that a mite presumptuous? Ah mean, Ah cain't jest write ta the Princess an' say 'Howdy, Ah know y'all're busy runnin the country an' all, but kin ya take tahm outta yer busy day ta pass a message ta mah cousin?' now can Ah?"

I laughed. "No, of course not," I said. "Princess Luna is busy at night."

She rolled her eyes. "Y'all know whut Ah mean," she said with a glare.

"Trust me," I said. "The Princess would love to hear from you. She loves hearing from all her little ponies. Especially Ponyville ponies. And most especially," I said, tapping her lightly on the nose with a hoof, "you and your friends."

A.J. looked unconvinced. "Ya sure?"

I grinned. "Sure as sunset," I said -- a bit of a mistake, that. It's a night pony expression; a thief's expression. I hoped she wouldn't catch it. "Heck, she told me herself!"

A.J. laughed. "Y'all're pullin' mah leg!" she protested.

"Come on, A.J.," I said. "Who do you think ordered me to take a vacation? Twilight Sparkle?"

"Dang it," A.J. swore -- or came as close as a pony like her does to swearing. "Now why didn't she tell me y'all was an important political-type pony? An' here Ah jest put y'all in the spare room!"

I grinned. "I am emphatically not a political pony," I said, "and that room is a darn sight better than--" I trailed off. Partly because I really didn't want her to know about the time spent living rough among the street ponies, but mostly because of what I saw. Our tour had just taken us around the southern end of the farm, which was... just devastated. "What in the name of Tartarus happened here?"

She grimaced. "Couple o' yahoos come ta town with a big ole cider squeezin' machine," she grumbled. "Done bet us they could make more cider'n we could."

"And, what, tore up your field?"

"Sorta," she said. "We was all about ta tell 'em nothin' doin', but Apple Bloom got herself all worked up, an' then they gone and had ta call Granny Smith chicken..."

"Ouch," I said. "I thought everypony in Equestria knew better than to call an Apple chicken."

"Well, that got Granny Smith all het up, an' the bet wuz on."

I nodded. That sounded about right for a true-bred Apple like Granny Smith. It also sounded like a story I'd heard in Canterlot about a couple of unicorn ponies with a juice pressing machine and a local vineyard. "What were the stakes?"

"Cider-sellin' rights in Ponyville."

Bingo. That was Flim and Flam, definitely. "I can't believe they tried the same scam again," I mutttered.

"Ya heard of 'em?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Nearly drove a good family to bankruptcy in Canterlot. Shining Armor was furious, ran 'em out of town on a rail as soon as he got word of their stupid bet." He'd actually heard about it from a guard while I was trying to track him down. Sometimes, I wonder if he really needs my input to do his job.

"Why?" said A.J. "Ah mean, a deal's a deal, right?"

I snorted. "A.J.," I said, "Equestria's a free market economy. Princess Celestia worked darned hard to make it so that everypony has the right to do business. Anypony can sell anything, so long as it's legal. On top of that, she's made it illegal to try to deny somepony that right for any reason." I snorted. "Flim and Flam weren't the first to try that particular dodge by a long shot, and they probably won't be the last."

"But we agreed to it, fair 'n' square," A.J. said. "T'ain't their fault we didn't know the law."

"Con ponies like Flim and Flam rely on honest ponies thinking like that," I said. I rolled my eyes, not at the way the Apples had been taken in, but at the fact that ponies like Flim and Flam would think to in the first place. "The worst part," I said, "is that a con pony will get you so focused on what you think he wants, you completely miss what he's actually after. It's the old invisible manticore at work."

"The what now?"

"A few years ago, some ponies did a test. They had a filmstrip of some ponies passing balls around, and told the ponies watching it to keep track of how many times the balls were passed between the unicorn ponies. All the ponies were moving around, but it wasn't too difficult a task, really."

"What in the hay does this have ta do with manticores?"

"I'm getting there," I said. "Keep your Stetson on. Anyway, they got just dozens of ponies to watch the film, one at a time, and all of them were given the same instructions. Afterward, they asked them about the film. Pretty much all of them got the number of passes right, but less than one in ten noticed that about halfway through this film, a pony in a manticore costume trotted out into the middle of the group, waved, and trotted off again."

A.J. laughed. "Yer kiddin'," she said.

I raised a hoof. "Orange's honor," I said, "I'm not. Ponies get so used to looking at one kind of thing, they often don't notice another. Con ponies use that, keep you off balance, concentrating on one thing, so they can slip another one by right under your nose. It's kind of like the way a good magician will use a little misdirection so you're watching their on hoof while they do something shady with the off one."

"So where's the invisible manticore in mah story?" said A.J., starting to get the point.

I frowned. "Hard to believe you still haven't seen it, considering that same manticore went and tore up your south orchard."

"We done let 'em use the south orchard."

"And how much did you charge them per bushel of your cash crop?"

"Um..."

"And what about the damage they did to the field? Did they reimburse you for that?"

"Well, we was just so relieved that nopony wanted their cider..."

"Bet they didn't stick around after that," I said.

"No bet," said A.J. "So they was after free apples?"

"Well," I said, "did they leave behind any of the cider they made?"

"Jest the spoiled barrels," she replied. "Which was a lot, but nowhere near all they made."

"You know what really burns me about this?"

"Burns you?!" A.J. was mad. Apple mad, which is about as mad as righteous indignation can make a pony.

"The waste," I said. "Anypony knows cider costs more than the apples it's made from. Those two could make a legitimate killing just selling their stuff a little cheaper. I mean, sure, it's not as good as hoof-made, but I tried the juice they made at that vineyard in Canterlot, and it's not bad. And old-fashioned orchards like Sweet Apple Acres could bump up their prices the tiniest bit to make up for the loss of business, and that way ponies can choose the bulk cheap stuff or the good, slightly more expensive stuff, and everypony wins!"

She frowned. "Well shoot," she said, "Ah don't know if Ah'd be comfortable raisin' prices none."

"Heck," I said, "sprinkle a little clover or rose petals in it and it's not just hoof made, it's a special blend. Canterlot ponies will pay almost twice as much for a good special blend cider."

"Yeah, well, thar's a bit o' additional expense, seein' as how we'd have ta clean off the millstone every time we wanted ta change blends," said A.J., "but Ah see whut yer gettin' at here. Still, twice as much?" She whistled.

"Darn near," I said. "And that's just one possibility for how they could make a legitimate living off their contraption. They could make and sell the machines themselves if they really wanted to strike it rich. But ponies like that have always got their eye on the quick score, rather than the big one."

A.J. grinned cockily. "Well, well, well," she said. "Sounds like they've got an invisible manticore o' their own ta worry about."

I laughed. It was true: some ponies get so focused on the game that they forget there are other ways to make money. It was definitely something to consider during this vacation.

"Y'all seem ta know a lot about this sort o' thing," she said. "Fer a city pony, ya got a pretty good grasp on how the cider business works."

"Business is business," I said. "I couldn't run Sweet Apple Acres by any stretch of the imagination, but I've always got my eye out for possibilities. And for ponies like Flim and Flam," I grumbled. "A.J., I'm sorry you guys got stung by those two yahoos."

"Well, shoot," A.J. said, "Ah'll jest chalk it up ta a learnin' experience an' be grateful it only cost one field ta learnOH SHOOT!"

I jumped back a couple of inches. "What? What?"

"Ah done tole Princess C'lestia Ah didn't learn nothin' 'cause Ah already knew mah friends was as good as fam'ly." She frowned. "Now Ah gotta write a whole 'nother letter an' tell 'er Ah wuz wrong."

I laughed. "Oh, wow, did you really write that?"

A.J. grinned sheepishly. "Eeyup," she drawled, sounding for a moment just like her big brother. "Ah wuz all 'Dear Princess Celestia, Ah didn't learn nothin'!' an' now Ah gotta eat crow."

"She'll get a kick out of that," I said.

"Ah don't git y'all, Orange Meringue," she said. "One minute yer goin' on about con ponies an' magicians an' invisible manticores an' all, an' the next yer talkin' about the Princesses like yer best buddies with 'em."

Wow, I was just slipping up all over the place, and not realizing it. Speaking of invisible manticores. I had to be more careful. Applejack, for all her country charm and apparent simplicity, was not stupid. "No, just... You go in and out of the Palace on business as much as I do, you hear things, you know? And the Princesses, apparently, look for the humor in things. At least, that's the scuttlebutt around the Palace."

A.J. nodded, taking that in. "Ah guess that makes--"

A loud, metallic ringing broke through the air, followed by the deep voice of Big Macintosh bellowing across the farm. "Sooooooup's on, y'all!"

I'll give you three guesses what the primary ingredient for dinner at Sweet Apple Acres was, and the first two don't count. I'm not complaining, mind. Apples are pretty hard to come by on the streets of Canterlot, as pretty much everypony likes them. Oranges, with their thick rinds and sour taste, are a lot easier to get hold of, and last a bit longer too.

But there at Sweet Apple Acres, the apples were nothing if not plentiful, and varied as well. Also, the Apple family know enough ways to prepare apples so that the meal doesn't get monotonous. And believe me, there are a lot of ways to prepare apples.

All in all, I filled up pretty quickly, and everypony went to bed not long after that.

Well, almost everypony. I slipped out into the darkness as quietly as I could, only to discover I wasn't the only pony sneaking around Sweet Apple Acres in the middle of the night.