The Catastrophic Case of the Cutie Mark Crusaders

by Squeak-anon

Sour Apples

The Catastrophic Case of the Cutiemark Crusaders.

Chapter 2

Sour Apples

Apple Bloom opened her eyes, in the normal fashion one does upon waking up. The sunlight streamed in through the window in the corner. It made the dust floating in the air look rather pretty, which was good because there was quite a lot of it.

Apple Bloom’s room was a small affair on the second floor of Sweet Apple Acres, a house placed squarely in the center of the farmland her grandmother owned. It shone a bright red, as did everything, it was an apple farm after all. It only made sense for things to look apple-ish, otherwise they’d look like some other fruit, perhaps a pear and that simply wouldn’t do.

The small filly got up and walked blearily over to the small mirror Big Mac had attempted to nail to the wall upon her request. Most of the wall was still being repaired, but the mirror seemed to work fine, despite his best efforts. She placed her mane, un-ironically, in a ponytail behind her head with a ribbon, tying it into a bow. This is a very hard thing to do with hooves, but somehow she managed. She always wore the same red ribbon in her mane, without fail. It was a special ribbon, one of the few things Big Mac had been able to save from the fire that destroyed their home. She was too little at the time to have any proper memory of the night it’d happened, but memory is a funny thing. She could recall no images, yet if she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the heat and smell the smoke.

It smelled of burning apples.

She was told the ribbon was her mother’s, a mare she had never met. It was the only thing she had, they each had one, a tiny memento from the house. Whenever the story was told they would say Big Mac almost died trying to get them out. It was too late for her parents, but if the Apple Family wasn’t stubborn they wouldn’t be the Apple Family, they’d be some other family, perhaps the Pear Family and that simply wouldn’t do. They couldn’t just walk away from their home with nothing.

Applejack had gotten a hat, a wide brimmed Stetson, it had once been her father’s. In the old pictures her Grandmother kept under the cabinet that they were never to open under any circumstance -which she had on good authority contained salt-licks- he wore it in every frame. He was always smiling, a strong orange stallion, hard at work in the fields, or sitting at a table in good humor. Applejack almost never removed it. They’d gotten the scorch marks repaired, but I can attest to the fact that on hot days it still smelled like smoke, among other things.

Big Mac got the last thing he was able to drag from the flames, a yoke, a word which here means ‘That weird thing he always wears around his neck’. For those that are unaware it is a device meant to attach a plow to a work pony. Sadly there are no pictures of Mr.Apple wearing this device, all of them were either lost to the fire, time, or a badly placed coffee mug. Still, one can only assume he spent many hours plowing the field before the harvest in that very same collar. Which is why Big Mac insisted on wearing it, even in the winter, when there is in fact nothing to plow.

Apple Bloom yawned, examining her work in the mirror. A perfect bow as always. She shook the sleep away and did a quick spin, examining her flank. Much like two other rather unfortunate fillies, it was blank. She sighed, she was more than old enough to have found a talent by this point, but it remained elusive. Still, there was little to be done about such things, she’d tried to force it, but the issue would not be rushed.

“Apple Bloom!” Called her sister from the kitchen. “Soup’s on!”

She quickly made her bed, straightened her room and made her way down stairs. The kitchen smelled lovely as it always did. Apple pancakes sat steaming on the table next to various other apple themed foods, one of which was a plate of apple brownies, which I shall not go into. Let us simply say that the Apple Family was very efficient in the use of the apples nopony bought. The smell of the fruit, cooked in a hundred different ways, filled the small room completely. It was a quaint dining area, once again apple themed, to go with the spread of food: Apple napkin holders, apple salt and pepper shakers -containing apple and pepper salt-, apple bowls, apple plates and apple chairs. The window in the corner, apple shaped of course, was open to let the sunlight in and the heat of the kitchen out. Apple Bloom briefly noted a small pear shaped spice rack jutting out the bin in the corner, barely out of it’s packaging.

Granny Smith sat in a rocking chair in the corner. Apple Bloom couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not, as the wrinkles around her eyes made her look as though she were napping all the time regardless of what she was doing. Wrinkles are often not considerate of such things.

“Granny?” she hazarded.

There was a general mumbling reply. Something about the fillies these days, as far as Apple Bloom could tell.

“Granny? Breakfast is ready, come to the table.” She shook the old mare with her forelegs.

“Huh? What? Tell him I don’t want any.” Granny mumbled, stirring slightly.

“No, Granny, it’s breakfast time, come on now, get up!” Apple Bloom urged, shaking her a bit more.

Applejack came in, carrying a tray of apple juice. She stepped around Apple Bloom, careful not to spill anything. She sat it on the table and looked questioningly at her grandmother.

“She won’t get up again.” said Apple Bloom.

“Oh just leave her, she needs her sleep I reckon.” Applejack picked up a blanket from behind the chair and draped it over the old mare. “She’ll eat when she gets up, I’ll save her somethin’”

Granny began to mumble again. “Mmmmh, yes Mr.Breezy I li-”

Apple Bloom was unable to hear the rest of that sentence, as Applejack quickly placed her hooves over over her ears.

“Big Macintosh!” she called. “Get in here and move your Granny! She’s startin’ to talk in her sleep again!”

The large stallion poked his head in through the window, almost blocking out the sunlight with his massive frame. “What’s that?” he asked.

Still covering Apple Bloom’s ears, Applejack nodded over to Granny Smith, who was till mumbling things small fillies ought not to hear.

Big Mac nodded back. He quickly trotted over to the door and walked inside. He hefted Granny, chair and all, onto his back as though they weighed nothing and walked up the stairs to deliver the sleeping mare to her bedroom.

Applejack went back to preparing the food as usual. Apple Bloom stood, unsure what to do with herself and wondering what Mr.Breezy had to do with anything.

Big Mac reappeared shortly and they sat down to eat. This wasn’t the first time they’d eaten alone, it seemed to happen more often than not. While their grandmother meant well, she wasn’t the mare she once was. They ate in silence, pondering, as young ponies in such a situation are prone to ponder, what it might be like if things were different.

I can attest to the fact that this is a rather bad habit. I’ve found that pondering what might happen if one’s life was different hardly ever helps matters and can in fact make things worse. This is more so if you find yourself pondering how life might be different if you hadn’t poked that manticore. Though the answer is rather obvious in that you probably wouldn’t be screaming something along the lines of “Oh Celestia help me I’m being eaten by a manticore.” and that the life you would be pondering would be a lot longer.

In anycase, as the Apple children sat around their breakfast, they were quite unaware that their lives were about to became very much different, more so for Apple Bloom than the others. They were also unaware that this would not be a good thing. In fact, it would be a very bad thing, a very bad thing indeed.

Apple Bloom sat, picking at her apple pancakes. Wondering what breakfast had been like at her parents’ farm. She was the only one of the three who had never seen her parents when they were alive. She only had pictures and her imagination.

“Hey Applejack?” she asked softly.

“Yes Apple Bloom?”

“Can you tell me what mama was like?”

Apple Bloom often asked this question, and Applejack’s reply was always the same. She’d smile a kind of far away smile and say, “Why your mama was the kindest pony in all of Equestria. She had mane, just like this,” then she’d ruffle Apple Bloom’s mane.”and a coat just like this,” then she’d tickle Apple Bloom’s sides. “and eyes just like those.” then she’d point to Applbloom’s big brown eyes. The little filly would laugh, and Big Mac would look on with that same far away smile.

Then Applejack would go on. “She was a hard worker too.” she’d say. “Never went a day

without doin’ a bit of work. She’d run circles around your Daddy sometimes, always giving him a run for his money.” Then her sister’s voice would go soft. “They loved each other very much Apple Bloom, your Mama and Daddy. But they loved you even more. Don’t you ever forget that.”

I can say with surety that Apple Bloom never would forget this. Through all the trials and

tribulations that would befall her, she would never forget that simple fact. Sadly I can also say that there would indeed be trials and tribulations for her to remember this through, and it was at this point one of them chose to ring the doorbell.

“Who could that be?” asked Applejack.

The doorbell rang again.

“Okay I’m coming, I’m coming! Keep your horseshoes on.” she walked over to the door and opened it to find three ponies standing there.

The one in the middle was a fancy looking grey mare. Her mane reached all the way down to her hooves and her cutie mark was a bass cleft. She leered into the Apple home the same way one might leer into a dumpster when they’ve dropped something valuable inside and are contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to go in to get it.

“Hello, sir.” she said with forced happiness. She looked Applejack up and down. “Or madam. My name is Crescendo, can I have a moment of your time?”

The other two who’d come with her leaned in greedily. I’m sorry to say their names are lost to the records. We shall simply refer to them the pony who was far too big and the pony who was far too small. This may be confusing for some, as the pony who was far too big was only a little taller than Apple Bloom, while the pony who was far too small stretched lankily over big Mac’s head. We describe them this way because it seemed to Apple Bloom that they looked as though they had had gotten each other’s body parts.

The pony that was far too big opened his rather small mouth to reveal a set of teeth the size of fence posts. His large eyes focused on Applejack “Yes, we have a few few questions regarding miss....uh...” he drawled.

The pony who was far too small opened his rather large mouth to reveal a set of teeth the size of tooth picks. “Apple Bloom” he said quickly, his beady little eyes swinging every which way.

The grey mare, Crescendo, shushed them.

“Yes, I’m happy to report that your sister has received a full scholarship to the Blueblood Academy of Music for Fillies.”

Applejack eyed the strangers warily. “Apple Bloom never applied for no Academy.”

Crecendo smiled a plastic smile. “But this is a high honor. One need not apply, we only select the most musically talented fillies in Equestria for this Academy.”

“But Apple Bloom’s never played in instrument in her life.” said Applejack resolutely. “I’m sorry, but I think ya’ll got the wrong address.”

She tried to close the door, only to find the pony who was far too small had stuck his hoof in the doorframe.

“I assure you sir or madam,” Crescendo continued. “That this is no mistake. Why don’t we just come in for a moment and talk this over with a nice cup of tea?”

Applejack grunted, trying harder to close the door. “No thank you...Miss...I tell ya we ain’t interested.”

“But, sir or madam, this is a great opportunity for Applebuck.”

“That’s Apple Bloom!” Applejack pushed even harder against the door. The pony who was far too small began to whimper slightly. “And how many times do I have to say it!? She ain’t never played no instruments and she ain’t going off to your academy, you hear!?” With a great shove the door finally closed. Behind it Applejack could hear the pony who was far too small cursing and grunting as he nursed his injured hoof. “Good riddance.”

She walked back into the kitchen.

“Who was that? asked Apple Bloom.

“No one you need to worry about.” said Applejack, taking a bite of her pancakes. “Just someponies’ workin’ a scam I’m sure. ‘ Blueblood Academy of Music for Fillies’ my hoof.”

The three young ponies jumped as Crescendo’s head popped through the window. “At the Blueblood Academy of Music for Fillies we’ll train young Apple Bloom’s hooves in the finest of musical skills! Please reconsider, sir or madam.”

“You hard of hearing?” asked Applejack. “I said no!” she slammed the window.

A pamphlet worked it’s way underneath. “Are you sure? Have some literature, I assure you we will take the up most care of your young filly and or colt. Applecore will only have the finest of room and board, the best food Equestria has to offer and the most renowned teachers in academia.”

“I don’t care if you’re going to teach her to turn pennies to peaches, I don’t want your fancy pamphlet and she ain’t going!” Applejack shoved the paper back outside.

“What’s she talking about sis?” asked Apple Bloom.

“It’s a couple of city ponies, come down here out of the blue talking about some fancy music school. It don’t sit right with me.” Applejack said resolutely.

“Music school? But I don’t know the first thing about music.” said Apple Bloom confused.

“That’s what I told’m. They ain’t taking you Apple Bloom, that’s that.”

Granny Smith, who had an excellent sense of bad timing, chose this time to walk down the stairs. “What’s, what?” she asked sleepily.

“It’s nothing to concern yourself with Granny.” said Applejack.

“Sir, or madam! I beg you to reconsider!” called Crescendo from outside.

“What’s that!?” asked Granny Smith, looking suspiciously at the three young ponies eating dinner. “Are you ignoring someone at the door? Well that ain’t no Apple hospitality I ever heard of. I taught ya’ll better than that!” she hobbled shakily over to the door and opened it. “Yes, who is it?”

Crescendo looked Granny Smith over in a lion-y sort of way. “Oh hello Mr. or Mrs. Apple. I was jus-”

The pony who was far too small cut her off, shoving a clipboard towards Granny Smith and a pen into her mouth. “Sign here please.”

“Oh, sure.” she said around the pen. “Have I won something?”

Crescendo stared at the old mare in disbelief, but quickly hid it. “Um...Oh yes! Apple Bloom has won an all expense paid trip to Cantorlot!”

“Hot dog!” yelled Granny, signing the paper. “Apple Bloom, did you hear that? You lucky filly! I can see you already, hob-knobing with the city folk.”

Applejack looked around frantically. “I thought you said it was a music academy!?”

“That would be silly.” said Crescendo. “You yourself said Applebomb doesn’t play any instruments.”

The orange mare looked at her Grandmother imploringly.

“That’s just silly Applejack,” said Granny “she’s right, Apple Bloom doesn’t play any instruments.” she turned to the small Filly, who was trying to hide behind Big Macintosh. “Apple Bloom, go up and pack your things,” she smiled. “You’re going on vacation!”

“That won’t be necessary.” said Crescendo quickly. “Everything she needs will be provided for her.” she nodded to the pony who was far too small.

He walked into the house to get Apple Bloom, Big Mac and Applejack hopped in front of their little sister defensively.

Granny Smith frowned. “Now you two let our little Apple Bloom have her fun. I know you’re worried, and that’s all well and good. But she needs to get out and see the world to grow up proper. Now go on, scoot!”

“But Granny!!

“I said scoot!”

So, Applejack and Big Mac moved away and allowed the pony who was far too small to lead Apple Bloom to the door. She looked back at her Grandmother, who was beaming proudly. I feel I must defend her in saying that she thought she was doing the right thing at the time. Unfortunately for Apple Bloom she was not. And the poor old mare would regret this decision for the rest of her days.

Applejack followed her to the carriage that lay waiting, looking fiercely at three ponies who were taking her away. Applebloom could see the fire in her sister’s eyes. She knew Applejack wanted to give each one of them a buck in the teeth, and take her sister back into the house herself, but their grandmother stood smiling and waving right behind her. Bucking guests in the teeth would be far from ‘Apple Hospitality’.

So, her only possession being her mother’s bow, tied tightly into her mane. Apple Bloom was taken from her home and into the beginning of her own very sad story.

Comments

[Sweetie_Belle_Derelle]

he pony that was far too big opened his rather small mouth to reveal a set of teeth the size of fence posts.

A Kennedy pony?

[Festus]

Granny Smith... I seriously hate you.

Nice story, by the way! I like the writing style, I'm sure I've read this style before! Ugh, what was it?! Can anyone name me the book series this writing style was used with?!

[Maera Fey]

Mr.Breezy and Granny Smith must've been very close friends once, I assume.

[pinkis cupcake]

if i was there id kick those fucking bitches asses to the mother fucking moon!

[VenusSpring]

"It only made sense for things to look apple-ish, otherwise they’d look like some other fruit, perhaps a pear and that simply wouldn’t do."
This simply isn't true anymore.