• Published 16th Dec 2012
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Thirty-Minute Pony Stories - Silvernis



Stuff I wrote for Thirty-Minute Pony Stories.

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297: Honesty

297: HONESTY


Applejack is an honest pony. She knows that honesty is always the best policy. She knows it’s better to be straight-up and direct and one-hundred-percent truthful all the time, even if it hurts, because in the end, being dishonest hurts more. She knows that even well-intentioned little white lies can grow into uncontrollable monsters that gnaw at a pony’s life until there’s nothing left but emptiness and pain.

Applejack is an honest pony. She always has been. It’s how she’s kept Sweet Apple Acres afloat over the years. Pa always said that an honest day’s work was something to be proud of, that if a pony could look back and see that he’d built something strong and solid and true, then he could count himself successful. Ma always said that it was better to be honest even if it meant being poor, because ponies who lied to better their business poisoned themselves on the inside. Ever since they—well, Applejack has kept them close, and she’s kept the farm going. She knows it could be bigger and the coffers deeper if she was a little less scrupulous and a little more sly, but that’s not the Apple way. It’s not Applejack’s way.

Applejack is an honest pony. She calls things the way she sees them. Sometimes her friends might frown and tell her she could ease up a little, but she knows they appreciate her candor. She knows they can count on dependable old Applejack to give them the unvarnished truth, no matter what. She won’t hide behind niceties and half-truths, because a half-truth is sort of like a half-lie when you think about it, and Applejack doesn’t lie.

So when Rarity takes her aside after the ceremony and asks, “Applejack, darling, are you all right? I’ve never seen you cry so much,” Applejack thinks for a moment. To be honest—and she is; she’s Applejack—she’s very far from all right. Right here, right now, she hates Rarity. She hates this prissy little unicorn for leaving and getting herself hitched to some big-wig from Canterlot. She hates those ridiculous sapphire eyes she’ll never quite be able to look at the same way again. She hates that pretty violet mane and tail, with their funny little curls. She hates those blue diamonds on those sleek alabaster flanks that she’s always longed to run her hooves over—not that she can see them now beneath that amazing gown. She hates that she’ll never have any it, that she’ll never have her, and she’s going to tell her that because even if it hurts them both it’s the honest truth and Applejack is an honest pony so she opens her mouth and speaks and she hears: “Aw, shucks, Rarity. Ah’m just happy fer ya. Can’t blame a gal fer gettin’ a mite teary-eyed at her best friend’s weddin’, right?”

Applejack is an honest pony, but sometimes the truth hurts a little too much.

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