Rarity has Dyed

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 5: Digging Holes

Applejack shivered. “Whoa,” she said to herself, setting down the several baskets of apples and various apple-like objects she was carrying. “Sompeony’s talking about me…and I don’t think I none too like what they’re sayin’, whatever it is…”

She shook her head and dismissed it, although she felt dirty for some reason. That in and of itself was not unusual; she worked on a farm and bathed only slightly more often than Rainbow Dash.

Fortunately, her day was not entirely ruined by it. The weather was excellent, and the numerous trees on her family’s seemingly endless orchard property were full of apples in need of harvesting. There was plenty of work to do, and the futility of it all brought Applejack some modicum of joy. Apples were literally her life; without them, she would only be named ‘Jack’, and that was not a good name for a female pony.

Still, a break was not out of the question. Applejack set her apples down in the barn and then went around to the back. A refrigeration unit had recently been installed there, thanks to increased demand from the international changeling market. They apparently demanded food that was prepared with love, and Applejack’s apples certainly met the qualifications.

Several hooks near the entrance to the unit held thermal jackets; one of the four was already missing. Applejack took one of the others and slid it on, and then opened the door with her teeth. Cold air blew by, and she shivered again before entering and closing the door behind her.

Two ponies stood inside. One, dressed in the missing jacket, was quite clearly Big Macintosh. The other was Rarity, dressed in a fluffy parka that only covered her upper body. She was examining several chilled apples on the walk-in’s table, comparing them carefully.

“Big Mac,” said Applejack. “What are you doing in here? Aren’t you supposed to be handling the deliveries today? Gosh darn it, do I have to do everything myself?”

“Eeeyup…I mean eeenope…I mean…”

“Darling, there’s no need to be so hard on him,” said Rarity, eying a particularly plump red delicious with a jewel’s loupe. “He’s helping me shop for produce.”

“So that’s what you’re calling it.” Applejack glared at Big Mac, who blushed slightly. “You know, Rarity, I’m not even supposed to let you in here for sake of liability issues. I could end up in pony court for this.”

“Darling, you’re overreacting. Besides, you could always elect for trial by ordeal. The last few times sompony did Twilight was very lenient.”

“Still. Why are you even in here, anyway? I’ve got thousands of apples outside.”

“Eeyup,” agreed Big Mac.

“Because I require a specimen that has been aged absolutely perfectly under just the right conditions.”

“Well I could get you for one. These are jam apples, I know them better than anypony.”

“No one doubts your unnervingly intimate knowledge of apples. But your knowledge of perfume is sorely lacking.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying I smell?”

“No, no, darling, certainly not! Well, not any worse than Big Macintosh. Or a very old cider press. Which isn’t a bad thing! Well, it you were a stallion it wouldn’t be…” Rarity paused. “Hmm…you actually wouldn’t make a bad stallion. Have you ever considered suit jackets? And maybe cravats…oh my, yes, cravats indeed…”

“When I wear clothes I wear dresses,” protested Applejack, putting her hoof down.

“Yes. As does Big Mac, apparently.”

“Eeeyu- -hey wait a minute- -”

“Applejack, I really am grateful. I just need a few more minutes. I absolutely NEED a correct perfume. And I need the perfect ingredients to finish the correct balance of the undernote!” Rarity’s voice rose to a whine as she finished her sentence. Applejack found it infuriating, but yet was unable to resist it every single time Rarity used that tone. She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t see why you just don’t use the apples whole. That’s what I do. Apples should be the overnote.”

“Because I don’t want to smell like a pie. Fruity balancing a light earthy musk beneath a complex spicy-floral overtone. ‘Overnote’ is not a thing. Here. This is what I have so far.” Rarity produced a vial from her parka and before Applejack could stop her she popped open the cork and held it under Applejack’s nose.

Applejack gagged at the smell and nearly spilled her applesauce.

“Sweet Celestia on a horse!” she gasped, covering her nose as her eyes started to water. “Why in the name of hot-buttered Cadence would you want to smell like THAT?!”

“Well. I assure you, this is a fashionable scent! I’m sure to turn heads at the ball with this!”

“More like turn stomachs! Close it, before you stink up my whole cold room.”

Rarity closed the bottle.

“I liked it,” said Big Mac.

“You would,” grumbled Applejack. She proceeded toward the door. “I’m going back to work. Hopefully apples make that actually smell, you know, good. Take as many as you need.”

“Thank you, Applejack. And they call me the Element of Generosity.”

Applejack reached for the handle to the room and paused. “And don’t stay in here too long! With your rump hanging out like that, you’ll get a cold for sure!”

“That isn’t how colds work, darling. I’ll be fine. And trust me, when the perfume is complete, I’ll be sure to share some.”

“Great. I go out of my way to help and you start threatening me.” Applejack opened the door and shut it behind her, closing out Rarity’s subtle and highly controlled laughter behind her. She then hung up her coat and went back to the fields, pausingfor a moment to smell under her front legs only to realize that she did in fact smell almost exactly like Big Mac.

As Applejack left the cold room on the western side her orchard, Starlight and Trixie had just crossed into the east. Starlight, who had the greater sense of direction of the two- -meaning at least ninety percent of it- -was leading the way. Trixie was following behind her, munching on an apple that she had levitated down from one of the trees.

“Trixie! Stop eating that!”

“Why?” Trixie looked at the apple, and then at Starlight. “Are you calling Trixie fat?”

“No, I’m saying that it’s not yours!”

“Oh. Well it is now. I even picked it! So much for customer service.”

“You have to pay for those!”

“No I don’t. I’m basically a member of the royal court. Because, you know, I live in Twilight’s yard. I think that makes me at least a duke…”

“It would be a duchess. And it doesn’t work that way.”

“Of course it does. And duchess makes me sound fat. I’m totally a duke.” She held up the apple. “So this is taxation.”

“In the court of an alicorn, it would technically be a tithe.”

“Wait, like the pointy communist thing?” Trixie looked at the apple again. She whispered to herself. “Am I a communist?”

“One, you’re thinking a scythe, and you’re confusing it with a sickle. Two, you’re not a communist.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I was one. Trust me, I can recognize them when I see them.”

“Oh. Well that’s a relief.” Trixie took another bite of the apple and, having finished it, threw the core away. She promptly picked another and began to munch it. “So. Where are we, anyway?”

“Sweet Apple Acres. It’s where Applejack lives?”

“Wait. Applejack lives on an apple farm?”

“Um…yes?”

“Well that’s just a weird coincidence. That would be like me being named Magic-y or something.”

“Your name is Trixie.”

“I am aware of this. So?”

Starlight shook her head. “Never mind. We need to find Applejack.”

“Why?”

“Because out of all of them she’s closest to Rarity. It’s like a weird love triangle with Rainbow Dash, but none of them actually know about it.”

“Trixie wants a love triangle. Do you think we could get Twilight in on this?”

“No. Because that would be weird.”

“Trixie would also settle for Fluttershy. Even if she kind of creeps me out.”

“Like I said. NO.”

“Fine,” groaned Trixie. She finished the apple and took another. “You know, speaking of kinky stuff, you know what I’ve heard about the Apple family?”

“Apparently not that they raise apples.”

“Trixie can’t be expected to remember everything! No. I’ve heard they come out here at night and…you know…buck the trees.”

“They do it during the day too. It’s how they get the apples down.”

Trixie looked at her apple aghast and then threw it away. “Eew.” She then looked around the orchard. “So, if I look hard enough, I could see Big Mac bucking trees?”’

“Probably.”

“Because he’s kind of hot.”

“He’s one of the only stallions in a fifty mile radius.”

“So?”

“So it’s an illusion. It’s relative.”

“Eew! So bucking trees wasn’t bad enough, now relatives, too? No wonder Applejack is always so angry around me…”

Applejack shivered again, this time harder. “Luna’s tiny hips,” she whispered. “What the buck is going on today?”

She paused from her work, setting down her shovel. Digging without magic or hands was extremely difficult, but it was absolutely necessary. Sweet Apple Acres would be receiving three rare heirloom trees from Appleoosa by the end of the week, and Applejack needed to prepare their new homes. She had picked a dry, brightly lit spot and had already managed to dig one large, deep hole for one of the new arrivals.

As Applejack took a step back to examine the depth and shape of the hole, she noticed two ponies coming up the path toward her. She squinted, and realized that the pair of them were Cheerilee and Mrs. Cake, the latter of whom seemed to have brought baked goods. This confused Applejack; Cheerilee’s presence usually indicated that Applebloom had probably done something unfortunate at school again- -likely due to Scootaloo’s bad influence- -but Mrs. Cake rarely came to visit, especially after her twins had been born. The pair of them seemed oddly somber.

“Hey there,” she said, approaching the pair of mares and suddenly becoming self-conscious of her odor. “I haven’t seen either of you in a while. What are you needing today?” Applejack looked at Cheerilee. “Did Applebloom do something again? Because if there’s one more fire- -”

“No, no, Applebloom is fine,” said Cheerilee quickly. She did not seem to have her usual cheer, and Applejack was beginning to grow suspicious. Her apple-sense was tingling, and she could not help but have a strange suspicion that somewhere, somehow, somepony was eating her apples without paying for them first.

“We came to see how you were doing,” said Mrs. Cake. “After…well…you know…”

Applejack paused again, then turned to Cheerilee again. “Are you sure there wasn’t a fire?”

“It’s about Rarity,” said Cheerilee. “We heard about how she had…died. And we wanted to check on you. We know you were close.”

“What? Close? I guess. Sure.” Applejack was somewhat confused, but instantly realized what they were talking about. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, how she dyed. I guess it’s a little severe, but it doesn’t bother me that much.” Applejack shrugged. “I mean, we all knew it was going to happen eventually. With her, sooner than later.”

Mrs. Cake and Cheerilee looked at each other. “That’s…one way to look at it,” said Mrs. Cake, trying to smile.

“A terrible way to look at it,” muttered Cheerilee, only to be elbowed by Mrs. Cake. She cleared her throat. “So…you read the paper?”

“What? No, I can’t afford it. Too busy. I was there.”

“Wait, what?” cried Cheerilee.

“Yeah. To be honest? I it was darn boring. I was sort of expecting it to be at least a little interesting. But nope. Just really slow and painful.”

“I- -I’m sorry, I didn’t know- -”

Applejack shrugged again. “It’s fine. Not like I could do anything. Rarity really had her mind set on dyeing, and who was I to stop her?”

Cheerilee and Mrs. Cake both gasped. “Wait- -you mean- -she did it to herself?!”

“Well I certainly didn’t do it if that’s what you mean!”

“No- -that isn’t what I meant- -it’s just that- -you didn’t try to stop her? You just sat there and…and watched?!”

“Pretty much. But like I said. Rarity dyeing doesn’t really bother me. If she wanted to, it’s her business. It was just inconvenient and all, waiting there for her to finish up. Like it was going to take here to Celestia Come. And worse, how darn messy it was…”

Mrs. Cake looked faint. “M…messy?”

“Yeah. I didn’t even notice it until I got home. She got some splatter on me.” Applejack pointed at her flank, where the orange of her coat had been stained dark red. On seeing the red flecks, Cheerilee went pale and took several steps back. Mrs. Cake just swooned, nearly dropping the confections she had brought.

“That’s…that’s…”

“Who knew dyeing was so darn messy,” sighed Applejack. “But oh well. I’m getting pretty dirty already today, diggin’ this here hole…” She gestured to the deep, rocky hole behind her. Cheerilee and Mrs. Cake stared at it aghast. Applejack supposed she understood; it was an excellent hole, if she did say so herself.

“You know what?” she said, picking up her shovel and taking several steps toward both of them as they took several steps back. “Do you want to see?”

“See what?” squeaked Cheerilee, weakly.

“Rarity. She’s out in my walk-in refrigerator. But you’ll have to hurry before she stinks the whole place up.”

“NO!” Mrs. Cake and Cheerilee both cried out in unison and looked around in panic.

“Suit yourselves,” said Applejack. “But if you want to talk, we can go back to the house. I have some apple juice. I’ll be there in a bit.” She looked over her shoulder. “It looks like I’ve got to dig another two holes…”

As she turned around, though, she found that both Cheerilee and Mrs. Cake had departed with extreme speed, the latter having left behind a cake. Applejack was somewhat surprised that Mrs. Cake could move so quickly, as she was comparatively short and squat.

“What the heck,” she said, lifting her hat and scratching her head. “What’s gotten into everypony? Dang it, if I dyed I don’t even think anypony would bother to notice.”

Applejack sighed and began digging the next hole, the whole while having a curious feeling that she was being watched.

Across the way, obscured by apple trees, Starlight was watching.

“Celestia’s solar rump,” she swore to herself. “Now it all makes sense. It’s all a pun. A really bad one, too.” She turned to Trixie. “Rarity must have dyed her mane. Whoever printed it in the paper spelled ‘died’ instead of ‘dyed’. It’s a homophone. Now everypony thinks she’s dead. This is just ridiculous. And I thought my followers were stupid…”

Starlight suddenly realized that she was talking to herself. She looked around and saw Trixie lying on the ground, holding her stomach and moaning.

“Ohhh….” she groaned. “The Slightly Gluttonous and Severely Nauseated Trixie ate too many apples…”

“I told you. How many did you have?”

“Five,” she said. Starlight raised an eyebrow. “…ty.”

Starlight’s eyes widened. “You ate fifty apples? Trixie, we’ve only been here less than fifteen minutes!”

“Trixie cannot help herself! You should have stopped me! Ohhh…the first sixty or so were really good, but the last few tasted really bad…”

Starlight looked at the ground beside Trixie and saw several red, half-eaten objects lying beside her. They were clearly not apples. “Trixie! Those are repellent balls! Applejack puts them in the trees to keep fruit flies away!”

“Well that explains why they tasted like foam rubber…and poison…”

“Trixie. Did you eat anything else that you shouldn’t have?”

“No. What do you take Trixie for, an idio- -” Trixie suddenly burped, and as she did a strawberry fruit bat flew out of her mouth and ascended into the trees above. Starlight and Trixie both watched it go.

“Right,” said Starlight. “We have to tell Twilight that Rarity’s not dead. But first we have to get to a hospital before you are. Come on. We’ve got to get your stomach pumped. Again.”

Trixie allowed Starlight to lift her up. “Ohhh…but Trixie doesn’t have insurance…or very much self-control…”

“I’ll comp it as a tithe. Can’t do anything about the self-control though. Come on.”

Comments

[Ri2]

The misunderstandings are great. As is Trixie's stupidity.

[ImMadScientist]

HAHA... CAN'T... HA... BREATHE. I'M DYEING!

[Tethered-Angel]

Love how Starlights just like oh, thats what happened.