Chapter 11: Accounting
Clean Slate
By Alaborn
Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.
Chapter 11: Accounting
“Now, get moving, you two!” Applejack ordered after knocking on our door. “Especially you, Diamond Tiara. There’s somepony I want you to meet.”
Apple Bloom and I were already awake. Getting up at dawn was surprisingly easy to get used to. However, the urgency was a bit unusual. We both knew that being too slow to finish morning chores meant those would become afternoon chores.
I glanced back at Apple Bloom as I headed to the bathroom. She was quiet. Whether that was tiredness or her being upset, I couldn’t tell.
Once I was ready, Applejack brought me to the entrance to the farm. Just like during cider season, there was a long line of ponies waiting. At the front was an older, heavyset earth pony stallion, with a cutie mark of three bit coins. Unusual for Ponyville, he wore a collar and tie.
“Diamond Tiara, this is Mr. Bottom Line. He’s running Rich’s Barnyard Bargains now,” Applejack said.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Miss Tiara,” he replied, shaking my hoof. “Your father had only good things to say about you. It’s a shame our meeting had to come under these circumstances.”
Bottom Line looked concerned, perhaps worried that mentioning my father would be upsetting. He probably didn’t know exactly what happened to me.
Regardless of how I should have felt, here was a pony that could help me. “Did you know my father well?” I asked.
“Not as well as I would have liked, I’m afraid,” he said. “I was the manager of the store in Whinnyapolis, and rose to be the manager of the north region. I might have been his right-hoof pony, but because of the distance, most of our interaction came over letters and telegrams.”
At this point, Big McIntosh approached, pulling a wagon filled with jars of zap apple jam. “Wonderful!” Bottom Line exclaimed.
“As promised, here are the first five hundred jars, for the store,” Applejack said. Big McIntosh set two crates in front of Bottom Line.
“Excellent! I’ve got a contract ready for the same amount, next year. And I’d also like to buy two jars myself, for personal consumption. Mr. Rich introduced me to zap apple jam, and let me tell you, it is the most wonderful jam I’ve ever tasted!”
“Well, thank you kindly,” Applejack replied. She checked the position of the sun in the sky. “Now, sales here don’t start for another fifteen minutes or so, but I suppose I could make an exception....”
“Nonsense. I can wait, and there’s a filly just aching to ask me some questions,” he replied. I jumped. He was right. I did have a bunch of questions. But I didn’t know I was being obvious about it.
I thought about asking him how he knew I wanted to ask questions, but instead went with my original query. “Why did you come all the way out here to pick up the jam yourself?” It takes an entire day to travel to Whinnyapolis.
“Running Rich’s Barnyard Bargains keeps me entirely too busy, Miss Tiara. A certain amount of travel is required,” he replied. “I still haven’t met with all my regional managers and store managers. So why not pay a visit to the Ponyville store while personally meeting the creators of the product that put Barnyard Bargains on the retail map?”
“What are your plans for the future?” I asked.
“I plan on continuing your father’s vision, to bring quality goods at discount prices to all the ponies of Equestria.”
“How did you get started? As a store manager?”
“Actually, I started as a buyer, searching the Whinnyapolis area for the kinds of quality products shoppers at Barnyard Bargains would like to buy.” The stallion looked quite happy as he related the story of his rise to the top. I stood in rapt attention as I learned about his biggest deals and even a couple of his mistakes. I felt bad when Applejack announced that they were now open for business, as that meant Bottom Line would be completing his own transaction.
Sure enough, Bottom Line paid for two jars of zap apple jam, adding them to his saddlebags, before balancing the crates on his back. He nodded to me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Diamond Tiara,” he said before turning to leave.
“Likewise, Mr. Bottom Line,” I replied.
That evening, I had the chance to ask Applejack a question that had been lingering in my mind. “A while back, before zap apple harvest, you had mentioned somepony I could talk to, to learn more about my father’s business. Was Bottom Line that pony?”
“Actually, no,” Applejack replied. “It was just coincidence that Bottom Line decided he wanted to meet the makers of zap apple jam. I was actually thinking of your father’s lawyer, Legal Plan. I gather he’s the closest thing your father had to a confidant.”
“He knows the business?” I asked.
“Probably better than most, though I didn’t talk to him much about it,” Applejack admitted. “He’s the pony we talked to about the custody deal and the trust fund and all that. I reckon he’d be willing to spend some time talking to you.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He has an office in the Ponyville Professional Building, just east of town center.”
After school, I went to find Legal Plan. The buildings in the center of Ponyville, those closest to the town hall, are fairly distinct. It’s hard to miss the confection-shaped Sugarcube Corner or the carousel-shaped Carousel Boutique. But the buildings further away looked a lot more normal. Many were shops with living quarters above them.
The Ponyville Professional Building was a small, two-story building, white with brown trim. From the outside, it looked like a number of offices of similar size. The sign outside indicated that the building housed a dentist, an optometrist, and a chiropractor, among others. And sure enough, the law practice of Legal Plan was listed as well.
I found Legal Plan’s office, on the second floor, and walked through the door, finding myself in a waiting room. Along the wall were four chairs, all unoccupied, and two potted plants. A light blue unicorn mare was seated behind a desk, near another door. Her horn glowed with a faint yellow radiance; she read from one paper as the quill in her magical grip wrote on another.
The secretary looked up at me, setting her quill down. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking at me with a curious expression on her face.
I froze. I hadn’t thought this through. I was thinking Legal Plan would see me and recognize me, and take the lead. But it would make sense he could be busy, busy enough to employ a secretary.
“Do you have an appointment?” she continued.
I felt a warm feeling flow over me. I strode forward and looked her in the eye. “I have no appointment now. I have no particular business now, though I expect to have significant dealings with him in the future, as he manages my finances,” I stated confidently. “I wish to find a time to meet with Legal Plan. My name is Diamond Tiara. He knows about my situation, and I’m sure he will understand the reason for my request.”
“Very well. I will speak with Legal Plan and see about an appointment,” the secretary replied. She left her desk and walked through the door, and the room fell quiet. I took a seat and waited, alone with my thoughts. Speaking to her felt... natural, or if not natural, practiced. Was it my words, or my tone of voice, that spurred her to action? Or did she actually know me, or know of me? Or, just maybe, Legal Plan wasn’t as busy as I first guessed.
Two minutes later, the secretary returned. “Legal Plan does wish to meet with you, Miss Tiara,” she said. “He suggests an appointment for Friday.”
”Um, do you have something after school hours?” I asked sheepishly.
After a check of his appointment book, I had a meeting with the lawyer scheduled for four o’clock Friday afternoon.
“You’ve got a letter,” Applejack told me over dinner. “From the doctor.”
“A checkup?” I wondered. Sure enough, the envelope contained a simple form, scheduling me for a two-hour appointment Friday morning. But there was also a personalized letter from Doctor Heart, mentioning that Doctor Mind Spring would be in town that morning, and that this appointment would allow me to speak with him again.
He also mentioned that Muscle Memory would be there. I was not looking forward to seeing that mare again.
“Why don’t I accompany you to the doctor?” Applejack suggested. “This time, there’s not any pressing work you have to worry about me missing.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Come Friday, our first stop was at the schoolhouse. Applejack spoke to Miss Cheerilee about excusing my absence for the morning. Meanwhile, I dropped off my homework with Apple Bloom, so that it could be turned in.
At the hospital, the first thing that struck me was the antiseptic smell. It brought back bad memories, those feelings of frustration at not being able to do anything. But seeing Doctor Heart improved my mood. “I’ll be talking to you later,” he informed me. “First, the nurse will take you to meet Doctor Mind Spring.” I nodded, following the nurse.
The scene before me was very familiar. I was brought to the same room where I had met with Doctor Mind Spring previously, although this time, it was just the two of us. He was referring to notes collected in his folio.
“Diamond Tiara? How are you feeling?” he started.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Have you had any success in recovering your lost memories?”
“No, I still can’t remember anything from before waking up in the hospital,” I answered. “The only thing is....” I paused.
The doctor leaned forward. “Yes?”
“I’ve sometimes had feelings. Impressions. Maybe, like, déjà vu?”
“Can you give me an example?” he asked.
“I went to school. On several occasions, I found myself looking over at a particular desk. The teacher told me my best friend used to sit in that desk.”
“What do you remember about that friend?”
“That’s just it, I can’t remember anything,” I replied, feeling a bit frustrated. “Miss Cheerilee said her name was Silver Spoon. I didn’t recognize the name. I couldn’t remember anything about her. I couldn’t even tell you if she’s an earth pony, pegasus, or unicorn.”
The room was silent. “Is there something wrong with me?” I whispered.
“Please don’t feel like there’s something wrong with you,” he replied reassuringly. “I can comment only on your condition, and cases of long-term amnesia are rare enough that I am largely restricted to speculating. Perhaps these feelings are in another, less damaged part of your mind. Or perhaps they are part of the memories you’re trying to unlock. Tell me, do you have any other impressions like that?”
I thought for a minute. “There was something, recently. I was helping with the zap apple harvest. There was this step, involving wearing costumes and singing while jumping over watering cans.” Mind Spring raised an eyebrow. “I know it’s silly. It’s magic. It doesn’t have to make sense. Anyway, even though what I remember now is how silly it was, at the time, I had a really bad reaction.”
“Reaction? What do you mean?”
“I remember feeling hot. I started screaming.”
“What were you feeling?”
I thought back to the bad feelings. Heat. Feeling flushed. The eyes of everypony on me. “I was humiliated.”
“Do you think you were remembering a feeling from your past?”
“I don’t think so. Apple Bloom said I had done that exercise the previous year. She described it like I found it to be a chore, one I was only doing because my father was making me.”
Mind Spring scratched out a few notes. “Apple Bloom described how you acted that day. Only you would know how you felt,” he stated.
The doctor let that statement sink in for a moment before continuing his interview. I didn’t have much else to talk about. The other impressions I recalled experiencing were a lot less vivid. I wasn’t sure if they were tied to my memories.
The hour ended, and Mind Spring started to put away his notes. “Will I ever get my memories back?” I asked.
“At this point, it is unlikely. But the mind is an incredible thing, and we are far from understanding it perfectly. Recovery is always possible,” he said.
I parsed his statement. The first part was the answer. The second part was softening the blow. “I understand,” I said.
“I’ll be speaking to your doctor and your guardian,” Mind Spring said. “In the meantime, there’s somepony I’m sure you’re eager to meet.”
The door to the room opened, revealing the muscle-bound figure of the physical therapist, Muscle Memory. I groaned.
The room with the physical therapy equipment was prepped, but Muscle Memory didn’t direct me to any of them. Instead, she referred to her own clipboard.
“How do you judge your stamina?” she started.
“I think it’s fine. I haven’t been doing anything strenuous, but I’m able to walk from the farm to town without feeling tired at all.”
“That’s good,” she replied. “Have you tried any running?”
“Just a little around the playground. Nothing formal,” I said, thinking about the Running of the Leaves.
“How about your fine motor skills?”
“I still feel like I need work there,” I said. “I’ve seen my family do some amazing things with manipulating apples, but that might just be experience. I still have trouble gripping small items.”
“Strength?”
“Applejack has kept me away from anything tough like that.” Muscle Memory nodded as I said that. “I don’t have any way to judge how I’m doing in terms of strength.”
“Well, that’s what all this is for,” she replied, smiling.
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“Yes. We’re going to start with strength exercises, testing the strength in your legs. I’ll add weight until you can’t lift anymore.”
Muscle Memory helped me into the machine, securing my front hooves. After hearing the sound of weights being positioned, she had me pull with my forelegs. I completed five lifts. She added more weight, and I tried again. It took four iterations to find my limit.
I switched positions, getting ready to lift with my hind legs. However, I couldn’t lift the weight at which Muscle Memory started me out. A minute later, and I was struggling to lift a smaller mass. I lifted once, but couldn’t finish all five lifts.
“I think I need more practice,” I said, huffing. That’s not a bad idea, actually. “Can someone who’s not a patient use this equipment?” I asked.
“Sorry, but this equipment is only for patients or those undergoing physical therapy,” Muscle Memory replied. “But there’s a gymnasium in town, with equipment a lot like this. Look up Snowflake’s Gym.”
I smiled. But then, Muscle Memory directed me to the treadmill.
After Muscle Memory’s torture, Doctor Heart gave me a normal physical exam. It didn’t take long. I realized that other than the recovery from my accident, I had been perfectly healthy, without even one cold.
I was left waiting on the examination table briefly as the doctor departed. He soon returned with Applejack, who took a seat.
“Let’s talk about the results of your checkup, Diamond Tiara,” Doctor Heart began. “Your general health is good. Your accident shouldn’t have any impact on your growth and continued development.”
“That’s good to hear,” Applejack said.
“Doctor Mind Spring found nothing wrong with your current memories. You should be able to continue your education and function normally, though he cautions against expecting any recovery of your past memories.”
“I asked him about it. He was pretty clear that I shouldn’t expect a recovery,” I said.
“Finally, Muscle Memory has given me an assessment of your physical recovery. Stamina is somewhat below average. Your strength in your forelegs is about 80% of normal for your age, while strength in your hind legs is about 55%. With work over the next year, you should be able to improve your overall strength and conditioning, but the differential here suggests some degree of permanent damage in your hind legs.”
I stared at my hooves. The doctor just gave me a sentence. I wouldn’t be good enough to buck an apple tree.
I felt a strong foreleg pull me into a hug. “Don’t you fret none,” Applejack said warmly. “We’ll help you get as strong as you can.”
“I think that’s everything,” Doctor Heart said. “If you experience any unusual symptoms, or if you recover a significant part of your memories, please contact me right away. Otherwise, I think we’re good to move to a normal schedule of annual physicals.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Applejack said, shaking his hoof.
“You’re welcome. Please stop by the receptionist to settle the bill. And good luck, Diamond Tiara.”
After school, I walked back to the lawyer’s office. The doctor’s words weighed on my mind. Weakness, permanent damage in my hind legs. I didn’t feel anything as I walked. Was I walking slower? Was I walking different than other ponies?
I didn’t learn the answer to those questions. I did learn that trying to watch the movement of one’s hind legs at the same time as one is walking forward is a recipe for tripping and getting a mouth full of dirt.
At the lawyer’s office, Legal Plan’s secretary recognized me, and buzzed me into his office. Legal Plan was a middle-aged earth pony stallion with a beige coat, his neatly-trimmed dark red mane turning gray near the temples. He set down his reading glasses and smiled, rising to his hooves. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was surprised to see such an avuncular pony.
“And a good afternoon to you, Miss Tiara. Would you like some tea?”
Tea didn’t strike me as appealing, but I did want something to drink, and a warm beverage would counteract the chilly autumn weather. “Sure,” I replied.
Legal Plan poured two cups of tea from a steaming kettle, placing one in front of me. “I understand this is a personal meeting?” he asked. “I do hope you don’t have need for legal services.”
“Yes, it’s mostly personal,” I replied. “Do you... do you know everything that happened with me?”
“I know about your father’s passing, that you were in a coma, and that you awoke with memory loss, if that’s what you mean.”
I nodded. “I have lots of questions. About Barnyard Bargains, about my trust fund, about my future. But for now, I just want to learn more about my father. You knew him well?”
“I did. I’ve provided him advice on both family and business legal matters, and have always been there to give an outsider’s perspective on his ideas. He loved Barnyard Bargains, and knew everything about it, from how long it takes to sweep the floor to how to introduce the store to a brand new market. And he was just as passionate about you, Diamond Tiara. You were the most precious thing in the world to him.”
I just wish I could remember him. “Did you know the rest of my family?” I asked.
“I knew your mother. A fine mare with discerning tastes. She left this world far too soon. I only knew your grandfather by reputation.”
I frowned. “What about other family? I wonder why my father placed me in the care of the Apples, rather than my extended family.”
Legal Plan tapped his hooves together. “Your mother had one sister, and she spoke highly of her. But her stories always talked about her adventures in foreign lands. I think she was a gem hunter of some sort. So I can understand why she wouldn’t be your guardian.
“I know your father was not in contact with his brother and sister. I never asked about the rift that drove them apart. I know he left them nothing in his will. I wasn’t even able to inform them about the funeral.”
I gasped. “They don’t know their brother died?”
Legal Plan shook his head. “They know. The company announced Filthy Rich’s passing. They would have heard because they both have a sizable stake in the company, maybe 5% each.”
“That’s kind of... an impersonal way for them to find out.”
“I agree, but it’s not my place to try to fix familial relations. In any case, Filthy Rich was adamant in having the Apple family serve as your guardian. And I think that’s the right decision. I have never met a family so unwilling to spend money that they are free to use.”
It still bothered me that they seemed willing to hurt themselves before taking money out of my trust fund. But I didn’t have time to worry about that right now. “What can you tell me about Barnyard Bargains?” I asked.
Legal Plan chuckled. “I think your father would be proud to hear you ask that question. I’m afraid I don’t have that much time, however. Why don’t I give you a copy of the company’s annual report?” He didn’t wait for my response. Instead, he pulled something resembling a magazine from the drawer of a filing cabinet, and passed it to me. “That’s from March of this year.”
I quickly flipped through the annual report. It looked like it included a summary of the year’s events, biographies of top officers, and tables of numbers. Financial statements, I remembered. I suspected my father taught me that, because that didn’t seem like a topic covered in school.
“Really, if you want to learn more about your father’s company, the best place to learn is the store right here in Ponyville,” Legal Plan mentioned.
I nodded. “I shouldn’t take up any more of your time, Mr. Legal Plan.”
“It was my pleasure. Would you like to talk again, perhaps once a month?” he offered.
“I would like that very much. Thank you.”
I read through the annual report several times. I learned that Barnyard Bargains had been founded just seventy years ago by my great-grandfather, and over the last forty years, had expanded across Equestria. By all accounts, the business was doing well, with still more room to expand.
Late Saturday evening, I got to learn about another business that was doing well.
I headed downstairs to get a glass of apple juice. In the kitchen, I saw something I hadn’t seen before. Big McIntosh was seated at the kitchen table, a pencil in his mouth, the light from the lamp illuminating numerous books and papers.
“What are you working on?” I asked.
“I’m doing the books,” he replied.
“Could you teach me?”
“I reckon I could,” Big McIntosh replied. “I suspect you’d be able to pick this up quickly.” He slid over a ledger, with a long list of transactions, dated and with numbers in two columns.
“It’s a simple single-entry bookkeeping system,” I said.
“Eeyup. We don’t need anything fancier here. Pa taught me all about it when I was about your age.”
I saw a very large number in the October entry. “That’s cider sales?” I asked. Big McIntosh nodded.
I compared the income to the costs incurred that month. “That’s a lot of profit.”
“Eeyup. And once I tally up all these bills, you’ll see something similar from zap apple jam sales,” Big McIntosh said. “But we need that money. Take a look at the beginning of the year, Diamond Tiara.”
January, February, March... it looked like the farm had very little income. On the other side of the ledger, there were regular outgoes, and then, one huge number. “Tax?”
“Gotta pay taxes on the land every year,” Big McIntosh said, chewing on his pencil.
As Big McIntosh summarized numbers from the various receipts in front of him, I continued to review the farm’s finances. Starting in spring and lasting until fall, apple sales provided a fairly constant income, though the varietals changed with the seasons. Then I noticed a number of paired entries starting in May. A quick check of the previous year showed these entries were new.
“That’s for me, isn’t it?”
Big McIntosh checked the entries my hoof was pointing to. “Eeyup. We had to pay the hospital, and then when you woke up, we needed to get you set up here.”
The books showed the funds coming in, from my trust fund, matched the funds outgoing, paying these bills, to the bit.
“Would you pass the ledger here, Diamond Tiara?” Big McIntosh asked. I complied.
I watched as Big McIntosh started writing new entries into the ledger. The quiet was interrupted when he spoke. “Apple Bloom said she found you touching her ribbon.”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“It made her upset.” Big McIntosh spoke in a very even tone, very matter-of-fact, but it was perfectly clear to me that this was a lecture.
“I just wanted to see if I could tie the ribbon in a bow. And I was wondering how I would look.” Big McIntosh raised an eyebrow at my excuses. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the pony you should be apologizing to. Do you know why the ribbon means so much to Apple Bloom?”
“No.”
“It’s just a normal ribbon, one you could buy in the store. But it was her mother’s ribbon. Apple Bloom was very young when she passed, too young to have memories of her. The ribbon is all she has to remember her mother.”
I hung my head.
“Next time, promise you’ll ask.”
I lifted my head. Big McIntosh continued. “I’m sure Apple Bloom would let you try out her ribbon if you just asked.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Now you need to run off to bed, little filly,” Big McIntosh ordered. “Sweet dreams, and always remember what’s important.”
I did need to apologize to Apple Bloom. While the balance sheet is important, Big McIntosh reminded me of the importance of accounting for everything.
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So, Equestria doesn't have universal health care. Shamefur dispray!
“Your father had only good things to say about you.
He's either being polite, or love is blind.
While Diamond tiara showing concern for wanting to know more about her father is good. I'm curious why she's showing no curiosity about her mother.
I stood in rapt attention as I learned about his biggest deals and even a couple of his mistakes.
I guess she's held onto some of her traits as her father's child.
I'm happy the story has remained character focused.
A bit of plot inconsistency is that Twilight said the 'No Unicorn magic' tradition had in place for Ponyville for 'centuries' implying the town (and Grannysmith) were at least 200 years old.
“Gotta pay taxes on the land every year,” Big McIntosh said, chewing on his pencil.
I'm actually surprised to hear that, since the land the farm is on was a gift from Princess Celestia herself.
The books showed the funds coming in, from my trust fund, matched the funds outgoing, paying these bills, to the bit.
0-0
They were seriously about not touching Diamond Tiara's inheritance to the point of damaging themselves. :-(
But it was her mother’s ribbon.
I had a feeling it was something like that.
2463953 "He's either being polite, or love is blind." Polite. I don't think many fathers would announce "My daughter is turning into a fine bully."
2462828
More like the author probably lives in the USA, land of privatization.
2464460 My headcanon places the technology level of Equestria as late 19th century/early 20th century. In that time frame, nations didn't generally have some form of universal government-paid health care. But how Diamond Tiara's health care was paid for isn't relevant to the story, except to demonstrate the Apples' honesty.
FAIL
This is a very cute story. MOAR!
Seeing Diamond upset abot hurting someones feelings is odd.
The Ponyville Professional Building reminds me a lot about any doctor's office or small legal firm in Germany. Each floor of a building would have 1-2 offices.
Also,
8069768 There are a lot of buildings like that in the United States as well, and I was thinking of them when I wrote the chapter.
Oh, and I better get on this year's income taxes.