The Sour Grapes Chronicles

by The Incredible Werekitty

Of Ponies and Pomace*

*pomace: the unfermented skins, seeds and cluster stems that are produced from pressing grapes

It was about a week after the Summer Sun festival, and Sour Grapes was standing at the gate of the vineyard. It was bright and early, and she was expecting the cart from Ponyville with the temporary farmhooves to arrive at any time. She had paid Big Macintosh to haul the workers here. This way it was the large farmpony who had to wait for stragglers, and not Grapes herself. Grapes hated repeating herself, especially to the temporary help. The rule she left on the job notice was be on the wagon or go home, so it was clear that if you wanted to work you had to arrive by wagon. Of course the large red pony was under no obligation to hurry either, so no doubt there might be a few last minute ponies who would run and jump in. She heard some faint laughter, singing and clowning about accompanied with a slow and steady Clip-Clop she recognized as Big Macintosh's patient gait.

Grapes had worn her pruning vest, and was determined to be as imposing as she possibly could. She wasn't going to take any guff, or accept any laziness. This was her chance to prove to her father that her way of doing things, and not being so willing to let slackers stay on, would be more profitable. It would be better if she could find good steady full-time, or full-time-ish help, but nopony nowadays wanted to be a farmhoof. The Wagon turned down the road leading to the main house and she tried her best not to look too disappointed. The Majority of these ponies looked... well some were too skinny, some too heavy, and in general most looked like they had never done an honest day's work yet. there were a few who looked decent, some that looked strong or tough enough for the job. One pony looked like he had just escaped from Ardennes-traz Prison, what with his stubble, scars and black oilskin vest with metal rivets. Still she TRIED not to jump to conclusions and trotted forth to the group in the most authoritarian manner she could.

"Good morning, fillies and gentlecolts. My name is Sour Grapes. You will address me as 'ma'am', or 'Miss Grapes'," she said crisply. "You are here to work. Not slack off, not eat grapes, not fool around among the frames. You will not be wine tasting, stomping grapes for wine, or any of the other things you were imagining on the wagon-ride up here. You are here to pick grapes. You will work hard, I WILL check up on you, and if you are caught slacking you will feel my hooves on your hindquarters kicking you out the gate. Any questions?" A green Pony with a shockingly purple POOF of a mane raised his hoof. It was like seeing a thistle trying to get her attention. "What is your question?"

"Yes Ma'am... So where's the real boss of the Vineyard, or is he just busy right now?" The pony asked, his voice lacking even a tinge of irony that would allow her to assume he was suggesting that a Filly couldn't handle the task she was. His eyes twinked under the mop of hair on his head, suggesting a mischievous air about him, but he wasn't about to give her an excuse to fire him before he earned it.

"My father is refurbishing the barn, this season," Grapes answered with supreme calm, gazing at the green pony with her most authoritative air. "Father left keeping you farmhooves in line in MY capable hooves." She lowered her voice into a very deadly tone, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Do you have a... problem... with that?"

"Who, me? Not at all Ma'am... you just don't look much older than me. Can't see you running a farm at this stage unless it's in someone's stead... or inherited."

"I grew up on this farm. I learned everything I know at my father's hooves," Grapes said proudly. "I have no intention of disgracing his legacy. Nor do I have any intention of allowing anypony else do so either. Now are there any other questions?"

A cloud-gray hoof went up at the back, the pony it belonged to eclipsed by the huge burly brown pony she noticed earlier. "I have one question."

"And that would be?"

The massive pony stepped to the side to take a look at the pony behind him, and revealed him to grapes. He was maybe the second-largest pony here, his body covered in sleek cloud-gray hair while his mane was neatly trimmed and the darker color of a raincloud. He had a decent amount of muscle, especially across his shoulders and back... at least as far as she could tell with the Quarter-sheet saddle blanket he wore. His legs looked pretty strong and his eyes... well okay she wasn't about to go goo-goo over some pony just because he had nice Sky-blue eyes but they really did look nice. He seemed a little uncertain for someone his size and he pawed the ground a little. "On the notice it mentioned the offered Salary but you neglected to say when payment is. Are we looking at, at the end of the job or in smaller installments as we go along... Miss Grapes?"

"It's a daily salary," she said looking up at him. "You are paid by the poundage of grapes you harvest a day. If you're a steady worker, and do not muck about, you can net yourself a decent amount of bits, every day." The ponies relaxed, grinning and nodding to one another. She had seen their type before. Work all day, then into town to dance and carouse at the Wild Mustang Cafe... lose their Bits, then crawl back to the Vineyard to start it all over again. Grapes sighed, then looked back up at the gray stallion. "Was that all? Any other questions? If not, we will take the tour, and show you the common house, where you will be staying, then we can get a good start on the day's work."

Nopony seemed to object and so she led them about the property, showing them the various buildings, the property boundaries and everything else they should know immediately. Like the location of the baskets and the scale that would be their lives for the next few weeks. She instructed them on what they were to do, and set them up in the ripest field. She walked the frames, keeping an eye on everypony, checking on their work, and oh-so-casually reminding them that the pay is by the weight not by the hour. After a few hours, she had then take a break, get some water, and stretch out the kinks in their necks. By the time she had them grab their baskets it was nearing noon, and many took her notice of 'by weight' to heart, really tearing into their work. She knew the burst of enthusiasm wouldn't last long, but she could dream. She did notice the pony with the blanket wasn't rushing, nor was he slow. He seemed to have found his pace and was sticking to it. It was a little strange to see a pony who caught on that quickly.

They stopped for lunch, soon after, a grazing table having been set up, earlier, with an array of succulent grasses, hay, and other tasty food. Grapes went inside to eat, keeping to the rule of not eating with the farmhooves. If they were permanent, the bonds that could be formed over a meal would be vital, but... Well at this stage it was better to stay "Friendly but never familliar", otherwise they would think they could get away with blue fodder.

Still she kept an eye on them through the window and watched to see how they interacted on their lunch break. It was a good way to see who might 'play nice with others' and who wasn't about to. Oddly enough one she mentally called "Oilskin vest Guy" seemed to be the most talkative and friendly... almost as if compensating for something. The Purple-maned pony easily bantered with everyone else and the gray Pony seemed to be happy to just listen to everypony else. Some of the others, though, she was sure were going to be tossed out on their flanks, soon enough. The overweight pony was causing her some suspicion, but she was not sure, just yet.

Still she gave them till the end of the day and the final weigh in. She eyed the fat pony suspiciously, and the suspiciously not-as-heavy-as-it-should-be baskets of grapes. She couldn't prove anything but she made a mental note to keep an eye on him. The others came in with decent or half-assed quantities. The one in the blanket had a very good haul, only a couple had more than him, but they looked exhausted... she suspected that if they went out dancing tonight they wouldn't be waking up bright eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.

"Now, I noticed that your baskets wasn't as heavy as they really should be," Grapes said, as she took aside the two ponies who had half-assed quantities in their baskets. "That one," she added, pointing to the gray colt's basket, "Is a good example of what I was expecting, and you couldn't even get that amount. What did you call yourselves DOING!?"

They looked at one another nervously when one started to puff himself up. She recognized the sight of a Pony about to try to push attitude back on her to save face in front of the others, and she steeled herself for it. "Hey, Excuuuuuse me, PRINCESS but we've never done this work before, it's hot out there and we've been feeling your breath on our necks the whole time making this a VERY hostile workplace."

"It's a little thing called 'supervision', little foal," Grapes uttered, in that steely tone from earlier. "It's my way of keeping up with what you're doing, making sure you're not mucking about, being sure you're getting plenty of water, and multitude of other things to keep this harvest on track. If you do not like it, you are more than welcome to leave."

"Well... Well... " he stuttered, trying to look in control in front of the other 'colts' before giving a large huff in her face. "Then I quit... pay me for what I did and I am out of this filly fest."

"Very well. You and your little foalish friends can run home to mommie," Grapes said intimidatingly, "and get a job at the local fast food joint, because you will NOT get a job at ANY of the farms, out here. And if I see any of your sorry tails again, I'll personally buck you back to town." She doled out the few bits they had earned, then watched them go with a frown on her face. It wasn't easy to watch as several of her workers left on account of their pride... it was such a STUPID reason to leave a perfectly fine job. But good riddance to those who couldn't handle taking orders from a Mare.

Grapes finished paying off the other ponies and put the undistributed bits back into the bag and looked them all in the eye. Something had to be said... she needed to remind them that she wasn't doing this to be a royal pain in the flank but out of fairness to the rest of them who WERE willing to work hard. She just wasn't going to take any roadapples from any pony who worked for her.

"I want to thank you all. You, who remain, had the tenacity and gumption to actually do the job laid before you, do it well, and it would not have been fair to you to allow shirkers to stay," Grapes said, looking from pony to pony, studiously avoiding the eyes of the chubby one she had her suspicions about. "The rest of the day is yours to do with as you see fit. Dinner will be served at six. Thank you, again." Snapping the carpetbag shut she picked it up by the handle with her teeth and trotted up the stairs of her home. She could have lifted it by hornpower but it did a lot of good to show the workers she wasn't above physical acts. She shut the door behind her and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She was ready for that pony's words but they still stung. 'Filly-Fest'? As if being a female was a crime, nopony ever brought that sort of thing up, especially when they've had a FEMALE alicorn in charge for more than a thousand years. She wished she could ask the workers opinions on if she came across too... biting. She wanted them to think of her authority.. not some Biter of a Mare. Then she heard something through the door. The ponies were talking. She strained to hear when a deep, rough voice silence the others "WOOOAH."

"What? What's 'Woah?"

"That. What she did... That was SO hot."

"Really?"

"Hey, man, when a filly takes charge like that, stamps her hoof down and sends the little colts scampering home to momma? I don't care who you are... that's HOT."

"Hmm. This might not be so bad, after all," Grapes chuckled to herself, then went to see about fixing a good dinner for those who stayed. The chocolate brown unicorn was in a considerably more cheerful mood, after hearing the burly stallion's declaration. After all it wasn't every day she was called 'hot' for being herself.

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Sour Grapes had set up the soup to slow cook, then hoofed over to the common house to see if the dining room, there, needed to be cleaned up, when it hit her. Well it wasn't an 'it', but a 'she'. Applejack had come barreling up the drive to catch Grapes in a tackle, that sent them both rolling. When they stopped, Grapes glared up at her cousin, breathing hard from the impact.

"What the HAY has gotten into you, Applejack?" she asked, angrily.

"Ah jus' got the BEST news, Cuz! Twilight got herself invited ta tha Grand Gallopin' Gala, an' she's got tickets for ALLA us!"

"What?" Grapes uttered, as she got to her hooves, and shook herself off. "You were invited to the Grand Galloping Gala? I thought you HATED fancy parties..."

"Well can't say I'll fit in too well, but I think ah can win em over with some down home charm while I bust out my Apple Stall," Applejack said proudly.

"You're going so you can sell apple treats?" the chocolate brown unicorn asked, sounding a bit uneasy.

"Sure as sugar, Sour. Ah figgure they've been livin on the fancy stuff for too long and might jest be lining up to sink their teeth into my apple pie."

"But..."

"Oh it ain't gonna be like I'll be setting up shop in her highness' throne room. I'll find me a nice quiet stretch of property... but not TOO quiet if you get my meaning, and set up there," the orange farmpony uttered, reassuringly.

"They have their own caterers..." Grapes finally said. "I should know. I sell them wine."

"And that's why Ah'll be sticking to the outside of the party. Ah doubt that there'll be fellas walkin about with silver trays there," Applejack insisted, sounding perfectly reasonable.

"And it's a free buffet..."

"Now don't you be usin' your fancy logic on me, cousin. Ah'm set on doin' this," Applejack said determinedly.

"I'm just worried you'll be doing all that for nothing... At least you've got until next spring to plan the whole thing," Grapes said, still uneasy about the whole thing. There were just SO many ways it could possibly go wrong it wasn't funny, and Grapes was in a position to know far better than anypony.

"Yep... and it won't be like I'll be missin' much. The other gals all got their own plans for the party," Applejack uttered with a grin.

"Really? What could they all be possibly planning to do there?" Grapes asked with a laugh. "Little miss bookworm can't possibly be planning on ditching for the Royal Canterlot Library, can she? She's probably read every book in the place."

"I bet she lived in there during her days at that fancy Unicorn Magic School... Come to think of it, I don't remember her ever saying when she graduated. Eh probably never thought it was important to mention," Applejack observed, musingly.

"Do you know what they're intending to do?" Grapes asked.

"I ain't exactly sure, but knowing the gals it'll probably involve Animals, Parties, Magic, Socializin' and Showin' off," she said nudging Grapes. Grapes mentally checked off the five ponies that Applejack had practically dragged out to the vineyard to formally meet her favorite cousin. Twilight turned out to be somepony Grapes could actually talk to, Grapes herself being rather well read. Fluttershy certainly lived up to her name, and it took all of Grapes' listening and observation skills to understand what the timid pony said, without constantly asking her to repeat herself. Rarity and Pinkie, she knew from before, but this was the first time that Grapes had seen Rainbow Dash up close.

"Okay... Just hope all of you aren't going to be disappointed. It seems like you're putting a lot of hope into that one night," Grapes said, shaking her head. "Anyway... Know where I could get a new vest?"

"Jest the usual place... " Applejack said rolling her eyes. "Rarity's place. I told her I was just planning on wearin' my duds there but she insisted on sprucing them up for me."

"Seriously? THIS I've got to see!" Grapes laughed. "You, in fancy duds."

"Well it ain't like I'll be in some old frumpy frou-frou frilly Filly dress. But if'n I know Rarity..." she trailed off and giggled. "Well we know what she's like."

"Heh. Yeah. Well, I guess I should go and pay her a visit. My pruning vest has seen many better days, and it's practically coming apart at the seams," Grapes uttered. "I just hope I can get out of there, without her turning it into some kind of new fashion or something."

"Or gluin' all kinds of rubies and diamonds to it."

"What use would gemstones be on a pruning vest?" Grapes uttered. "Oh. Right. Ask HER that."

"Yep... If she starts doin' that you may be able to get her to change to some kind of purple gem... Might look purty if she can make it look like grapes," Applejack mused.

"It's a pruning vest. To carry pruning tools. It does NOT need gemstones," Grapes groused.

Sour Grapes could not get away from the vineyard before the weekend, when pretty much everybody got a respite from the hard work of harvesting. And Grapes herself got a respite from the hard work of supervising. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but so far it's been proving worthwhile. Even after she discovered that Fritter, the chubby pony temp, was eating more grapes than he was harvesting. Thanks to clever use of the scales, she was able to prove her accusations, properly fire the annoying little hay bale, and be sure to tell all the farmers in the area about him. The last thing that the farmponies around here needed was a greedy little goit who would eat their profits. She reached Rarity's shop in good time, and stood outside, as she listened to Rarity singing.

"There must be something in the water," Grapes mused. "'Cause practically everypony I know has a good singing voice." Grapes, herself, could sing reasonably well, and often sang while she worked. She waited until the song came to an end, then knocked on the door, just to make sure it was safe.

"Ah... one moment please," came Rarity's voice from inside. Grapes heard Rarity drop the volume of her voice and sing the last line of her song before the door opened wide revealing gleaming white unicorn beaming at her. No doubt she could NOT leave a song unfinished.

"Hi, Rarity. I was wondering..." Grapes started to say, before the exuberant unicorn pulled her into the shop.

"Oh, Sour Grapes, I've had the most astonishing BURST of inspiration lately," She GUSHED as she swept the other unicorn past six rather astonishing dresses. "I feel so giddy with it I haven't even slept for more than a few hours at a time these past few days." Grapes had to stop, and stare.

"Wow, Rarity, those are amazing! Is that one Applejack's? It's fantastic."

"Why thank you... I've worked so hard on them why I haven't even gotten past the design phase of my OWN dress. I am pleased to have captured the essence of my closest friends... So much in fact I may even make a gift of them."

"That's incredibly generous of you, Rarity," Grapes said, tilting her head. "I know I couldn't afford anything like this, myself. Seriously, though, you outdid yourself with all of these. That blue one's obviously Twilight's. I love your use of impressionism, and the clever visual pun on her name. And Applejack's has got an air of elegant simplicity."

"I tried to keep a sense of... sensibility in it. And something that would be perfect to advertise Sweet Apple Acres to the upper class," Rarity said as she pranced about, still aglow with her success, and the praise that Grapes had given her. "Oh! And what about YOU?"

"What about me?" Grapes asked, bewildered by the sudden change in subject.

"Surely you would need a dress too. A unicorn of your stature would naturally have an invite," Rarity said clopping her forehooves together and quickly bringing out fabric samples.

"But I don't have any kind of..." Grapes began, only to be interrupted.

"Oh come now... I know of these sorts of things, and it's not a dark secret that your mother, father and you have an open invitation to the Gala." She started draping bolts of cloth across Grapes' form, looking at how they hung and what colors seemed to work with the earthy brown of her coat. "You may show up at any time you wish and no guard may bar your entry... Unless of course you're a recognized troublemaker, but beyond that... Hmm. Purple seems ironically to NOT be your color, dear." Grapes had to chuckle at that, then looked back at her flank.

"It works just fine on my cutie mark," she uttered drolly. "But, seriously, Rarity, you don't have to do this. I couldn't possibly afford..."

"Please, you may not be able to afford this but I can. Remember that wine-colored fabric you helped me find? The pony that purchased that practically paid for ALL my spa sessions, this year."

"NO way of talking you out of this, is there?"

"Probably not," Rarity said as a glowing measuring tape SWOOPED in to start taking some very invasive measurements. "Back, Shoulders, forelegs, Hind-legs, inseam..."

"HEY! Watch where you levitate that thing!" Grapes yelped.

"Sorry, dear, I DO get so carried away. Oooooh I HOPE the others love the works I created for them. Mmm... Yes. I can see sedate yellows are more your speed. You really should get your colors done one day. It speeds things up."

"What do you mean by 'get my colors done'?" Grapes said sounding perplexed. "I doubt I'm going to come here often, for anything more than, oh, say, a new pruning vest."

"Well everypony has certain colors that work well with them. Some it's warm colors, some cool, and they're organised to match the four seasons. For example your cousin, Applejack, is an autumn," Rarity said, offhoofedly.

"Oh... So you've done Applejack's colors, hm? It's not exactly like she comes here a lot, either... Except, maybe, for un-gussied-up work duds," Grapes asked oh so innocently. "One would simply have to wonder why you'd go through so much trouble."

"Actually she seldom comes around here. Poor thing seems content to buy off the rack but in our time together I have done my best to figure out all my friends' colors." Rarity cinched some fabric about Grapes' waist and 'Hmmed' "Why all the inquiry about 'duds' anyways? Are you trying to ask me something?"

"Just what you're intending to do at the Gala," Grapes said, with a shrug. "I know that Applejack's going to set up a booth, to try and compete with a catered buffet."

She giggled in a conspiratorial tone. "Oh I have my plans... You know how much of a social rogue I pride myself on being? Well... While there I intend to cozy up to a certain gorgeous Prince."

"Oh no, not Blue Dor-... Uh... Blue Blood."

"Oh yes. Distant relation to Princess Celestia herself. Oh if I can make a good impression on him, prove to him I am a lady of refinement... and he chooses to ask me to marry him... Well, then I will be elevated in status and prestige to a level no other pony there that could match," Rarity gushed, enthusiastically.

"You've got to be able to STAND him, first, Rarity," Grapes uttered, deadpan. "Him, and his Equestria-sized ego." Unfortunately Rarity seemed unable to hear Grapes, lost in her own little world which probably included Expensive fabrics, exclusive clientele and unrestricted access to the Royal Jewelry Vault. "RARITY! I've got to be able to BREATHE!"

"Oh... sorry. Corsets are in this year... Silly things really but they are popular," the purple-maned unicorn said as she made notes and measurements.

"Why in Equestria would a PONY need a corset?" Grapes uttered, looking back a the contraption in obvious annoyance. While Rarity was flitting from fabrics, to desk, a pencil flying via ponykenesis to draw on a piece of parchment, Sour Grapes struggled to get out of the confining piece of lingerie. Then all of the sudden TWANG! Grapes yelped in utter surprise.

"Oh, for star's sake!" Rarity looked over at her fitting stand, and saw that Grapes had, somehow, ended up hog-tied by the corset, and was obviously laughing at herself.

The fashonista began to giggle. "Oh dear.... Oh dear oh dear oh dear. On my dear Sour grapes... how did you accomplish this?"

"I was trying to get OUT of this ridiculous thing... I'm not sure this qualifies as an accomplishment, or a mistake..." Grapes replied, still laughing. "But I look positively silly. Corsets. On PONIES! WHO thought this was a wonderful idea?"

The marshmallow white pony got to her feet and began to laugh as she trotted over to help the hapless Grapes. "I wish I knew, darling. Now let me help you out of that thing."

"Please do, the blood's rushing to my head..."

Grapes did her best to get a new pruning vest included into her dressmaking but she feared that Rarity was too... artistic to get it right. Still by the time she left she almost was considering going to the Gala... Almost. Rarity seemed to make it sound fresh and exciting... Not filled with Old Bits and self-importance. Sour Grapes, however, remembered all too well how high society ponies were, and what an completely horrible time she had when SHE went to the Gala at her Grandmother Diamond's behest. She was, once again, afraid that yet another mare was setting herself up for disaster.

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Sour Grapes made her way back to the vineyard, pensively, her mind on the possibility of the disappointment that Applejack and Rarity would eventually face, that spring. She loved Applejack dearly, and hated to see the possibility of her having difficulties, but still she was competing with a catered buffet, that was offered as a part of the Gala itself. Sour Grapes, surprisingly enough, liked Rarity, bless her little artistic heart. Grapes still knew that the high society ponies at the Gala would think of her as nothing more than a common tradespony, and a social climber. And to be blatantly honest, Sour Grapes would never wish the arrogant "Blue Dork" on anypony. Still, after the fitting session with Rarity, she was VERY glad to get back to the farm.

Comments

[Arn]

Who dresses the vines? Does she, her parents or does a professional dresser come by?