• Published 19th May 2014
  • 6,063 Views, 193 Comments

A Roll in the Hay - Shahrazad



The Apple family farm is in trouble, and Big Mac has only one day to get three hundred and fifty bits together. He’s only got one chance. It’s just a roll in the hay— it doesn’t mean anything…

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Mrs. Cake

Big Mac sat on the pile of hay, watching her set up the camera. He thought any “clients” that might come by would want discretion as much as he did. He never expected a client to do this! “Uhhh,” he started, but didn’t know what to say.

She stopped for the moment and turned to him. The tripod pieces lay scattered over the floor and the camera sat alone on the workbench. “What? You don’t want to be on film? Well, too bad!” she growled, unrestrained fury making her movements sharp and violent. “I’m not in the mood to take pity on a stallion— not right now. Are you going to help me or not?” she almost shouted at him.

“E-eyup,” Big Mac stammered. His drew in a breath to steel himself for the task. He slowly walked to the workbench and held up one of the poles. She held another pole, trying without success to get them to stand upright by leaning them against each other. Big Mac raised an eyebrow while she furiously slammed the offending object onto the workbench.

She jabbed a hoof at him and shouted, “AHHH BUCK THIS! YOU DO IT!” She swiped the camera off the workbench and stalked several strides away. She sat and fiddled with it. “Dammit, how do you work this thing? Carrot always does this... It’s nothing like an oven,” she mumbled.

Big Mac searched her saddlebag and found the missing bolts. He slipped them into the proper flanges and locked them in place. The tripod stood proudly, waiting for the crowning device. He walked up behind her and watched as she tried, and failed, to get the camera to work. She managed to get the film into it, but she couldn’t get the lens attached. Instead, she managed to get the little pictures that were still in the slot on the back of the camera to pop out. Big Mac watched over her shoulder as they spilled onto the ground.

Scattered all around her were the results of the last roll of film. The first picture was of Pound, flying around her as she held a freshly baked cookie away from him. There was another picture of Pumpkin and Pinkie Pie playing with wooden blocks with letters on them; Pumpkin had better spelling than Pinkie. Another picture showed her pushing her children in a stroller. The next picture had a laughing Carrot running around, holding Pumpkin aloft, chasing after Pound. Another picture of Carrot trying to feed pound— there was plenty of food in this one, but it was all over Carrot’s face. The last picture in the set showed the four of them, Carrot and Cup hugging each other and smiling, with the sleeping foals held in their forelegs.

“Huh-huh-huh,” Cup sobbed, not forming any real words. Her entire body heaved with the force of her tears. “Why?” she groaned, her voice creaky and wet. “W-why d-did you d-hoo it, C-carrot-t?” Big Mac didn’t know exactly what to do, so he put a hoof on her shoulder to comfort her.

It would have been less violent if she had detonated.

She whirled on him, screaming, “WHY DO YOU STALLIONS JUST THROW THIS AWAY! WHY? AREN’T THEY WORTH SOMETHING?”

Big Mac leaned away from the mare who was little more than half his height and double his body mass index. How he longed for whips and chains now. “Uhhh… eeeyup?”

“THEN WHY? WHY WOULD YOU CHEAT ON YOUR SPECIAL SOMEPONY?” She screamed at him, as if he, personally, were responsible for the entire stallion race. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to speak, but she cut him off. “DO YOU JUST CHASE ANY PIECE OF FLANK THAT COMES YOUR WAY, OR DO YOU ONLY LIKE THE PRETTY ONES?”

“Uhhhh...” Big Mac felt like any real response would be dangerous.

“Just tell me,” she breathed, her voice falling to a raspy tone barely above a whisper, “am I a fool? Have I wasted my life, trying to raise a family?”

“Nnnope!” Big Mac answered with more force than he intended. It came out with a growl.

“Then why did he cheat on me? Why would he throw it all away?”

Big Mac raised an eyebrow at her, then looked at the pictures. He couldn’t imagine the stallion in those pictures cheating on his special somepony.

“Oh, you don’t believe me?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Nnnope,” Big Mac said as he collected the pictures and put them in her saddlebag.

She stalked after him, ranting, “Well, I watched that blond hussy, with her pretty pale blue coat and fluttery wings, follow him into the kitchen. Carrot has a thing for mares with a blue coat, so I was worried that something fishy was going on, but Pumpkin had spilled frosting on the floor, Pound was flying around trying to catch a fly, and Pinkie was nowhere to be found. The store was packed with customers, and it was at least an hour before I had a chance to find Carrot. I tried to get into the kitchen, but he comes out right in front of me holding a tray with hay fries, carrot juice, and a cupcake with strawberry frosting. STRAWBERRY! Don’t you get it?”

Big Mac blinked, raised one eyebrow, and said, “Uhhh… nnnope?”

She scoffed, “Strawberry cupcakes are my favorite. Carrot only makes them for our anniversary, or when he’s done something wrong and doesn’t want to go into the dog house! Well, he says, ‘Honeybun, you’ve been working so hard today, I decided to make your favorite!’ Now, I know that... pegasus, that… flying jezebel, is still in there. Carrot is just smiling, looking sooo pleased with himself. Well, I marched right into the kitchen and do you know what I found?”

“Nnnope.”

“A mess, a complete and utter mess. Like two ponies had been wrestling around in there. And the window was open. Just like a winged lolita to fly out the window, probably out of habit. So you tell me, why would a married stallion be giving his wife, his special somepony, a special gift, if it isn’t their anniversary?! HUH? WHY?”

Big Mac stopped to think. He glanced at the door set high above in the barn, the hay loft door that Cloudkicker had flown out of hours ago. He put it together, and smiled. Hmmm… but how do Ah convince her everything is okay? Big Mac took a deep breath, and spoke from the heart:

“You know, there’s a million fine-looking stallions in the world, girl. But they don’t all bring you lunch at work. Most of ‘em just cheat on you.” He spat out the stalk of hay and ground it into the dirt with a hoof.

Her lower lip quivered, and she sobbed, “H-how c-can you be s-sure?” He just smiled, and she smiled back, wiping a tear from her eye. “You… you could be right. I want to believe it, but I just don’t know. When I look into his eyes, I…” Big Mac quirked a brow. She continued, “I… I haven’t looked him in the eye since yesterday. What should I do?”

Big Mac had her sit down on the pile of hay. He retrieved the pictures and curled up with her. He flipped through the pictures with her, not letting her turn away until she really looked at each one in turn. When he reached the final picture, she snatched it from him and sprang up. She just stared at it for several moments, before she sniffed and closed her eyes. “You’re right, oh goddess, what was I thinking? I... I have to get back to Sugarcube Corner, right now!” She repacked her saddlebag in record time. Before he could catch his breath, she had already left, galloping down the road with a smile on her face.

Whew. Big Mac wiped the sweat from his brow and collapsed into the pile of hay. It was getting a bit lumpy after so many ponies had lain on it. He tore off another half of a bale and added it to his pile, trying to rearrange it and make it more comfortable. He flopped onto it again. Ahh, that’s better.

The barn door creaked. Oh c’mon, how many ponies coulda seen that sign? My hoof size ain’t THAT famous… is it? Two mares trotted inside. Not again! Ah almost had a Li’l Mac running around ‘cause of the last pair!

Big Mac blinked and rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing double? The mares were blue and pink. Or was it pink and blue? “Hello,” the one on the left said, “I’m Aloe.”

“And I’m Lotus,” said the other.

“We’ve got fifty bits for the two of us.”

“We’re confident we can come to an equitable arrangement.”

They drew closer, circling him like he was the center of a merry-go-round. “We’d like to procure your services.”

Big Mac’s eyes would have spun in circles around in his skull if they were able to do so. “And we’d like it if you would provide the complete range of services available.”

“Yes, everything you are willing and able to do.”

“We’d like to experience everything.”

“It’s just business.”

“Nothing personal.”

“That is what a roll in the hay means, right?”

“No strings attached?”

“And satisfaction is guaranteed.”

“Shall we begin?”

Big Mac’s eyes spun, trying to follow them. He became dizzy, and felt sure he would throw up.