• Published 25th Aug 2013
  • 11,950 Views, 243 Comments

An Apple A Day - Esle Ynopemos



A collection of thirthy-minute short stories about the rootinest, tootinest farm-filly this side of the Everfree. There'll be a chapter a day for thirty days. I ain't no fancy arithmeticker, but that adds up to a whole month of good, health

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26: Gangs of Manehattan [Adventure] [Comedy]

((Prompt: Write a story where the very first line and the very last line of the story are both chosen from the following list:

"I knew you hadn’t changed, Discord, not really."
"And that’s how my trip to Manehattan went!"
"Oh, did you think that would stop the Great and Powerful Trixie?"
"Elementary, my dear Twilight!"
"Up, up! It’s time to get up, Rainbow Dash!"
"You know, things would have gone a lot better if you’d told me this before."))

“Y'know, things would've gone a lot better if you'd told me this before, hon.” Applejack ducked as a broken chair leg whipped past her head. Its wielder, a freckled little red filly no older than Apple Bloom, issued a ferocious war cry and charged forward, batting at Applejack's knees.

Babs Seed headbutted the filly in the side, sending her tumbling away. “What was I s'posed to write, huh? 'Dear cous', I accidentally started a gang war, please bring your war-hero friends?'”

“We ain't war-heroes!” Applejack sidestepped as a pie splattered on the ground next to her. “How's a filly like you start a gang war, anyway?”

A scrawny pegasus colt tackled Babs, biting at her ear. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders thing,” she grunted, fending off the assault. She plucked a feather out of his wing and tickled the bottoms of his hooves until he rolled off, giggling. “We were just s'posed to be a club, y'know, but it sorta turned into a gang.”

“It sorta turned into one?” Applejack repeated incredulously. “How's that even happen?”

Babs Seed shrugged. “That's the way things work around here, cous'. You got a group of ponies hangin' around doin' the same things, pretty soon they're a gang. That's how the 23rd Street Bowlers started.”

The red filly returned, howling with rage. Applejack hesitated to really fight back against a filly less than half her size... until she started biting. “That's it,” she said, “time out for you.” Applejack picked up her rope, dodged the filly's berserk charge, and lassoed her, hoisting the rope over a street lamp to suspend her above the fray.

“Nice job,” Babs said, picking up an empty pie tin and scraping mud into it. She heaved the projectile into the mass of warring fillies and colts around them, grinning as she heard it hit home on somepony's face with a wet splat. “See, I guess the Flankers didn't much like us comin' in with all our talk 'bout crusadin' for cutie marks. Blank-flanks was their turf, they said. They didn't want us musclin' in.”

Applejack rubbed her jaw. There was going to be a bruise there in the morning. “So wait. Y'all're warrin' over who gets to be the—” She was interrupted as an orange smacked her in the face. The peel ruptured, squirting juice all over her cheek and muzzle and soaking the brim of her hat. “All right, which one of y'all threw that?” she shouted.

Babs picked up a billy-club that had tumbled to the ground before them. “Well, I mean, we tried to talk it out, we really did. But, y'know, tempers flared, some ponies said a few things they shouldn't've...” She slung the club over her back. “So here we are.”

Applejack sighed. “Ain't there any way to stop this all before somepony gets hurt?”

Babs shook her head. “Not that I can think of. Not unless...”

A shriek rose from the middle of the melee. “I got a cutie mark!”

The fillies and colts suddenly stopped. All eyes in the street turned towards a young peach-maned filly who gasped in delight as she stared at her flank. A few magic sparkles remained in the air as three orange slices appeared there.

Regardless of their gang affiliation, all the fillies and colts in the area immediately crowded around her, chattering excitedly.

“Lemme see! I wanna see!”

“Oh wow, that's such a neat one! I hope I get a cutie mark like that!”

The red filly, still hanging from the street lamp, cheered. “Way to go, Marmalade!” Applejack could not reconcile the sweet voice she used now with the vicious snarls she had been issuing just moments ago.

“What were you doing when you got it?” somepony asked.

The newly marked filly smiled. “I don't know. I was just throwing oranges, when suddenly it happened!”

“Ooh, an orange-throwing cutie mark! Cool!”

*

“So, uh... that's about the point I got arrested for attackin' a minor.” Applejack rubbed the back of her neck, grinning sheepishly. Twilight and the gang sat before her, blinking. “Anyway, that's how my trip to Manehattan went.”