The Cutie Mark Crusaders
No.
Sweetie Bell circled around him and chirped, “Mmm-mmm, this looks good!”
No.
Scootaloo gamboled around to Big Mac’s other side. “Yeah, you’re right, it looks so tasty! Hey, are you gonna move, Mr. Apple?”
No.
Apple Bloom pointed right at the spot where Big Mac sat, directly where his flank met the hay. “I want me some o’ that!”
No no no no.
“Me first!” Sweetie Belle cried.
NO!
“What? Just cause you put in three bits? Your sister gives you lots of bits! That’s not fair— I wanna try first!” Scootaloo grumbled as she glared at Sweetie Belle.
NO!
“Uh, ‘scuse me, this here is mah farm, an’ mah big brother. AH git ta go first,” Apple Bloom said proudly.
NO NO NO NO—
“Are you okay?” Sweetie Belle put a hoof on Big Mac’s flank. It was all she could reach from her stature.
Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Big bro, yer white as a sheet. What’s wrong?” she asked.
Big Mac’s eyes rolled up into his head, and everything went black.
~~~~~
“WEEEE hee-hee-hee!” Big Mac woke to a little filly screaming. His head pounded— no wait, something was pounding on him. Something small and furry bounced on his chest.
Big Mac slowly opened his eyes with a grimace on his face and looked around, determined to face this new hell.
Instead, he found a mess. At least four bales of hay had been broken open and spilled onto the ground, along with the pile of hay he had been using all day. It covered an appreciable area of the barn. Sweetie Belle popped up out of a particularly large lump of hay, bits of straw sticking out of her mane, and smudges of dirt all over her face. “This is so much fun!”
Scootaloo appeared out of another lump of hay, this one behind Big Mac. Bits of straw stuck out of her mane and right wing. “Yeah, who knew it was so cool to roll in the hay? Why don’t you do this all the time, Apple Bloom?”
“Ah dunno, Ah never tried it before. Why don’t we do this all th’ time?” Apple Bloom stood right on top of Big Mac, staring him in the eye, hugging a wad of hay in her hooves. She tossed it into the air. As it rained down on Big Mac and Apple Bloom, she giggled, “WEEEE hee-hee-hee!”
Big Mac’s right eye twitched. He could feel his blood pressure slowly dropping. He breathed in and out in a slow, steady rhythm, trying to take it all in. When a bit of straw lodged itself in his mouth, he instinctively bit down. Apple Bloom tumbled off of his chest and disappeared into the straw when he sat up. “Uhhh,” he intoned. He sighed, but smiled anyway. Cleaning the barn was worth six bits.
Straws of hay had worked their way into everything— their manes, tails, Scootaloo’s wings, stuck to walls, on top of the work bench, and even on the stack of mail. Big Mac forgot about his day, the notice, the sign, everything, while he rolled in the hay with his little sister and her friends. She laughed like he wanted her to laugh, carefree and innocent. There would be plenty of time for her to learn all about a more mature “roll in the hay” later in her life. Right here, right now, she needed to be exactly who she was.
Big Mac rolled onto his back and sighed. This is why Ah put up that sign. This is why Ah need those bits… Bits! Crud! Where are they?
Big Mac frantically searched through the piles of hay. Apple Bloom stopped throwing hay at her friends for a moment, dry straw raining down all around them, and asked, “What’s wrong, big brother?”
“Ah can’t find th’ jar with th’ bits! Ah need it!” he called, still frantically flattening lumps of hay to find his missing cash.
“We’ll help ya!”
It took several dirty, sweaty minutes of searching, but eventually Scootaloo found it. It had rolled into the corner, and several bits had spilled out onto the floor. Big Mac shot across the room and snatched the jar. He hugged it to his chest and sighed. “Uh, yer welcome, Mister Apple,” Scootaloo said as she rolled her eyes.
Big Mac blinked and smiled sheepishly. “Thank ya, Scootaloo. It’s gettin’ a mite late. Shouldn’t y’all be gittin’ home?”
Sweetie Belle rolled over and sat up from the pile of hay. Her eyes lit up like she had won the lottery. “You mean we don’t have to clean this up?”
“Really, big brother? You’ll take care of it?”
“Eeeyup!”
“BEST BITS WE’VE EVER SPENT!” They all said in unison, with massive grins on their faces.
Looking thoroughly disheveled, the three of them trotted to the front barn door. “Uhhh,” Big Mac mumbled as he looked at the three of them. They had rolled around in hay for quite some time, making them sweaty, breathless, messy, and dirty. The cherry on top: the hay stuck to them in various places. “Maybe y’all should use the back door.”
“Why?” Apple Bloom asked, with one brow raised at her brother. “The farm is just up the road, this way,” she said, pointing at the front barn door.
“Jus’ do this fer me, please?” Big Mac pleaded with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. He felt silly begging foals, but if the wrong pony saw them…
“Okay, whatever,” Scootaloo said as she shrugged and plowed through the hay one last time. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom galloped after her. They filed out of the back barn door with satisfied grins on their flush faces.
Whew
Big Mac gathered up his bits and poured them into the jar. He smiled when he found that one of the “bits,” probably one given to him by the Cutie Mark Crusaders, turned out to be just a yellow button. It didn’t matter though. He had… three hundred and sixteen bits. He couldn’t believe it— he’d never made so much money in a single day. Or even a single week! Well, maybe during cider season, but that took months to prepare for. He placed the heavily laden jar on the work bench and started to clean the barn. He began to roll all the extra hay up in a pile so he could create new bales later.
Halfway through the first roll, the barn door creaked open behind him.
Big Mac froze. Buck me! Ah fergot the sign is still up! A set of hooves clopped into the barn, striking the ground with sharp notes. Big Mac swallowed, put a smile on his face and turned around.
His smile melted off of his face, and his ears fell to the sides of his head when he saw who stood in the entryway. He leaned back, as if the pony only a few strides away was on fire. His hind hooves quivered, and the disgusting, oily feeling in them slid up his spine. “Uhh… h-hello.”
The mare’s lower lip quivered. “How could you? HOW COULD YOU?!” she shouted. Tears welled up in her eyes, but still she glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns. “THOSE ARE MY STUDENTS, YOU DISGUSTING PIG! AND APPLE BLOOM IS YOUR SISTER!”
Cheerilee closed her eyes, tears squeezing out of them, as she turned away from him. “I can’t even look at you. I’m going to the police, so just… say goodbye to your family. I owe you that much.” She turned away from him and lifted a hoof to walk out the door.
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Holy crow. Geez.
You'd think Cheerilee would at least ask a few questions, but on the other hand . . .
--and in a real world that's a lot less nice than Equestria, she'd be a Mandatory Reporter, too, so she's only doing her job, poor thing.
...
...
Shit...
That was AMAZING, HILARIOUS, AND FREAKING SCREWED UP
And I love this story for that
Do something Big Mac?!!?!?!!!!
(snickering) use the back door.
You can save this Big Mac. Just explain what really happened. Cheerilee seems like a reasonable pony. Hopefully she will understand...and believe you.
Awkward
Saw that coming.
Now all he needs to do is murder her and hide the body...
Also, why was she at the farm?
But in all honesty, I can't blame someone for jumping to such conclusions - it's the safe thing to do in these situations.
= "Look on the bright side; she did say that she loved you."=
4549040
If you happen to see your precious students all dirty and covered in hay exiting a barn, wouldn't you be curious about their "extra curricular activities"?
If that isn't good enough...ummmm...Rule of Drama?
Welp
I love the blissful ignorance of the kids, it's so easy to set-up a punch line for the story.
4549244
Well, I don't want to sound like an egotist, but they probably looked a lot better than I did as a kid; I'd come home covered in cuts, bruises and blood (most of which wasn't mine) - I had a real bad problem of getting into extremely violent fights after school as a kid. It got to the point where I was breaking bones and getting broken bones in return - I lost at least 7 baby teeth on the streets of Oberwiessbach. I was a violent, temperamental little brat with a middle-child complex and an ego that had no justifiable reason to be as big as it was. Fortunately, I bit off more than I could chew when I joined the Bundeswehr at the age of 16 - the military beat the ever living shit out of me and I learned to be a man instead of a bratty little shit-headed kid. By 19 I was engaged, by 25 I was out of the DKO and living in America with a stable job, a house, and a wife. Now I'm 29, approaching 30, and I'm about to have my first kid; and I swear to God in heaven he will not turn out like I did - It'll be discipline with the end of a rod and open handed respect for both parties involved. My dad didn't have enough time to spend with me to instill those things in me, but I'm going to be there for my kid.
Lord above that was a hell of a pointless rant. It went from being somewhat related to the topic at hand and transformed into some sort of psychosomatic rant. Sorry about that; I had childhood issues. Anyways, I eagerly await the next chapter.
Oh no!
Quick Mac! This is your first, last, and only chance! Stop her and ask if she wants a go! The story is kind of ambiguous on whether or not you have enough to make the payment, so the only way to make sure is to talk Cheerilee into paying for a session!
I see what you did there.
͡° ͜ʖ ͡°
I suppose it makes sense that, in all the crazy crap that's happened to him that day, he would forget that Cheerilee said she'd be coming by.
...been waiting for this.
Well buck.
Shit just got real!