Heat-Stir-Serve

by Mr Merritt

Chapter Five

Even after purging his soul to his pretty filly friend, Peppermill still found he was unable to focus on anything but his uncertainty about his father. He managed, with great effort, to put on a brave face for his family and friends. But the fact that he seemed to be spending more and more time in his private place in the hay loft was not missed.

Early one evening, just after supper and just over a week since the debacle at the Golden Horseshoe, Peppermill was back in the loft. He lay on his back on the couch cushion, staring blankly at the rafters above him. He found that his heart and soul ached from all the dark thoughts that flitted through his head like the fruit bats just outside in the orchard. Nothing seemed to make sense, and what little did only served to bring more doubt and uncertainty to him.

Is this…what they call a…mid-life crisis? How can I…have one of those…when I am so…young? Peppermill was so engrossed in his misery that he never heard the sound of yet another pony apparently climbing up the ladder to his domain. It wasn’t until his vision of the ceiling was blocked by one of orange, yellow and a splash of brown that he seemed to come out of his mental fog.

“Did somepony…nail a sign…to the barn door saying…’Colt in Existential Distress Inside – Come Right In’?”

“Ah ain’t ashamed ta say I don’t rightly know wut that word means. Though I reckon ya must have got it from Twi.” Applejack looked down upon her little brother, her green eyes looking as sad as he felt.

“It means I am…questioning everything…I thought I knew…about my life.” sighed Peppermill. “To put it…another way…I’m beginning to think…my whole life…has been a lie.”

“Well, I reckon I know a thing or two about lyin’.” replied Applejack with a nod. “Come on an’ scoot over. Ahm pretty sure we ken both fit on this here cushion.” Much to Peppermill’s annoyance the mare didn’t wait for a response from him, and soon the two ponies were more or less balanced on the couch cushion.

“Though I ken figure out wut yer gonna say, ahm gonna ask anyways: are ya willing to talk about wut is botherin’ you sugar cube? I reckon there’s more to it that yer tellin’ me…”

“I can’t…”

“And why the hay not?”

“You said…I wasn’t to talk…about ‘that pony’…or ‘that place’…remember?”

“You know something sugar cube? Ahm grateful you decided to be a cook and not one of them fancy lawyer types. Ahd hate to hafta deal with you and yer tongue…”

“I’m…sorry Applejack…”

“I reckon you don’t hafta apologize sugar cube. It sounds lahk ya got a lot on yer mind.” The mare fell silent, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. The colt continued to lie there, trying hard not to think about just how little personal space he was experiencing with his oldest sister crowded on the cushion with him (which was a whole different issue, one in which he had no desire to deal with at the moment).

“Ya know, there wuz a tahm I didn’t spend all mah hours at Sweet Apple Acres as I do now. I used ta spend a lot o’ time out and about, a real mare on the town as they say…”

“Really?” While she would never be mistaken for a wallflower, the idea of Applejack being ‘a mare on the town’ seemed odd to Peppermill.

“In fact, and I know yer gonna try an’ call me out on this, ah…even had wut I thought wuz a coltfriend.” Peppermill had to actually bite his tongue to keep from responding to this statement. The idea of Applejack being devoted to anything other than the apple orchard was totally alien to him. And the idea that Applejack actually had any interest in stallions and things of that nature was hard to fathom as well.

“Oh, he pretty much swept me off of mah hooves. He told me all the things I reckon a gal lahked ta hear: that I wuz purty, that I wuz smart, that I wuz the only mare he wanted to be with.” Applejack’s tone was both longing and pleasant, and the grey colt began to wonder why he hadn’t heard about this pony before then.

“You know who that fella wuz?”

“Who?”

“…Horte Cusine.”

“WHAT?!?” Peppermill scrambled to his hooves, a look of horror and rage on his face. Applejack and…and…him?!?

“Now jus’ hold yer horses sugar cube. This here is mah story and I would appreciate you waitin’ fer me ta finish.” The sharp order sent Peppermill onto his rump, a look of disbelief and hurt on his face.

“Ah reckon it had ta do with mah time in Manehatten. As homesick as I wuz, ah admit I found myself…interested in some of the ways the stallions carried themselves. All fancy and such, ah mean. And I reckon that Horte Cuisine wuz about as high class a fella as you were gonna see round these parts. I found mahself…attracted to him.” Peppermill felt sick to his stomach, the thought of his sister and that…pony actually a couple. But he kept his thoughts to himself, as requested.

“We had a few dates. We did all things you tended to see mares an’ stallions thinkin’ they were in love doin’. Then came the day when Horte wanted to talk to me…alone.”

Celestia…I beg you…don’t make me…lose my supper all…over the floor…

“At first ah thought he wuz gonna ask me to go steady with him. But he had…other things in mind. He tol’ me he wanted to expand his restauarant. He wanted to start using apples from Sweet Apple Acres exclusively in darn near everything. Of course I wuz thrilled, thinking that he liked apples as much as ah did. He told me he didn’t expect to get them fer free, and wanted to make an offer. Now, while I might be happy to leave all the financial stuff to Big Macintosh I ain’t no slouch when it comes to hagglin’. I wuz ready to be a bit generous in our deal, seeing as though we seemed to lahk each other so much…”

“And?” Peppermill felt like he was going to burst. While a small part of him recognized the hint of sadness from the mare, the hope that Applejack did something…anything to the smug stallion was almost more than he could bear.

“Well, I swear even in mah lovey-dovey state…”

“Snnkk…lovey-dovey…I never thought I’d…hear you say that…to describe yourself.”

“Ya mean,” replied Applejack with a wicked smile, “lahk the way you sometimes get around Silver Spoon?” It was now the apple mare’s turn to laugh as the colt’s face went beet red in embarrassment. While he knew that nothing other than Silver Spoon patting him on the back was the extent of their interaction the day before, his family seemed quite happy to needle him about ‘you an’ a young innocent filly up in the hay loft’.

“Anyways,” continued the Element of Honesty, “the ‘deal’ Horte Cuisine wanted from me was wrong in so many ways it still ain’t funny after all this tahm. He dang near expected us to pay him to take our best apples…”

“It is…always about money…” muttered Peppermill darkly. To this the mare nodded sadly, and then followed it up with glinting green anger in her eyes.

“As much as I lahked him, there was no way I wuz gonna accept an offer lahk that. And do you know wut that…”

“Rattlesnake?” quipped the colt with an ominous grin.

“Heh, ah reckon you got the right word.” laughed Applejack. “That rattlesnake told me I should have been grateful that any fella would give me the tahm of day. He told me no stallion would be interested in some…farm filly.” All the colt could do was sit there, contemplating how it could be possible that the same stallion could have caused so much hurt to two ponies.

“Well, you ken imagine how bad ah felt. That stallion durn near tore mah heart out and stomped on it. He went on ta tell me I had one chance an’ one chance only to not end up alone as an old mare by given him wut he wanted.”

“If the next words…out of your mouth…do not include…’bucked his head off’…I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, ahm going to say it anyways so shush. It’s mah story after all.” Peppermill sank back onto his belly sulking as the mare finished. “Ah asked him if that wuz how he really thought of me, as a means to an end. He tol’ me no pony would ever get between him and profit. So I told him no deal, and ah walked away. From that day on ah devoted mahself heart an’ soul to tha farm. Ah reckon I ain’t done anything resembling going out with a stallion since…”

“Please tell me…you didn’t actually believe…what he told you…”

“Well…” Applejack left that single word hanging heavy in the emotionally charge air. She didn’t have to say anything more, if the pained expression on her face said anything. Peppermill simply stared at the floor of the hay loft, watching a single straw roll by.

“Horte Cuisine told me…that he thought my father…had wasted his energy…all these years by not…trying to make as…much profit from the ponies…who ate his food…as he could. He told me…that real respect…and power came…from having money. He considered overcharging…and mediocre food to be…acceptable practises. He actually…said he thought…my brother had the right idea…about using me as…a cash cow.” The words came in a rush, the purity of the colt’s anger and pain pushing them out of his mouth. Peppermill looked up, to see the same hurt reflected in his elder sister’s green eyes.

“Aren’t we a sorry pair.” spoke Applejack finally with a bitter laugh. “We both have had our hearts and spirits broken by the same fella…”

“It is hard…to imagine how…one pony could be so…hurtful.”

“Well, if it makes ya feel any better sugar cube, it turns out ya got at least one other pony agreeing with ya.”

“What do…you mean?”

“You know how Twilight Sparkle is about her research. Apparently she went and looked into yer comment about the food at the Golden Horseshoe being overpriced. Turns out some of the ponies she knows in Canterlot and some of the other big cities in Equestria were more than happy to give her the information she wanted.” Applejack explained with a firm nod. “She, and a lot of our other friends, ain’t going to be goin’ there any tahm soon. And I know that the news will spread lahk wildfahr to the rest of the town. I reckon some might not care, but there will be those who will be keeping their hard earned bits outta Horte’s hooves.

“Do you know…the two most…common questions I…get asked on any…given day are?” Applejack blinked at this rather abrupt change of subject. But she was willing to give the colt the benefit of the doubt.

“Hmm…well I reckon yer asked about how ta make one of them fancy meals of yers. That, an’ how you can do all them fancy tricks with that chef’s knife and not lose a hoof in the process.” The corners of the mare’s eyes crinkled in amusement at the slow blink the colt made in response. The honest truth was she suspected that wasn’t the answer he was wanting, but she couldn’t resist missing a chance to get one over on him. Celestia knew how many times his sharp tongue scored hits on her…

“Let me…rephrase that:” intoned Peppermill. “What are the…two most common…non-food related…question I get asked?”

“Ah haven’t a clue sugar cube.” The colt lifted one forehoof and responded.

“Does Big Macintosh have a special somepony?” He followed this by lifting the second forehoof. “Does Applejack have a special somepony?” The first question didn’t come at all as a surprise to the mare. She knew just how popular her older brother was among the mares in town, and she sometimes wondered what it would take to get the red draft horse to open up a bit more. The second question was enough to make her jaw drop to the floor, followed by a furious blush that made her freckles stand out on her face. She wanted in the worst way to claim that Peppermill was teasing her, but she knew in her heart the colt was being serious in his claim.

“You can’t begin…to imagine how many…stallions in town would…love for you to…be more approachable. I just wish…I could understand…why they seem to think…Big Macintosh would…be so angry about…them talking to you. From what…Big Mac tells me…he’d love to see…you enjoying more…time outside of the farm…with some pony…other than your…mare friends.”

“Ah…ah guess I just thought Horte Cuisine wuz right about no boy being interested in a cowgirl lahk me.”

“Just like…I’ve let him…convince me that…my father and his…generosity was…a sign of weakness.” The colt and the mare went silent once again, as the gravity of the realizations weighted on their respective hearts. Finally Applejack got up onto her feet and closed the gap between herself and the colt. She lowered her head so she could keep her green gaze on his dark one.

“I’ll tell ya wut sugar cube. Ah’ll make you a deal: ifin you promise to never doubt yerself, or anything your parents ever taught you, again…ah’ll…ah’ll try and be a little more…”

“Confident that…you are actually a…beautiful mare?” The colt grinned at Applejack, and the mare found herself unable to keep a grin of her own from spreading across her face.

“Did anypony ever tell you that you got a good way with words sugar cube?”

“I’ve heard that…once or twice.” The two ponies began to chuckle at their private joke. When the laughter subsided, Applejack gave a rare pout.

“Ah know it won’t sound all that nice, but ah sure would lahk to get back at that no-good Horte Cuisine fer all this. But ah ain’t all that good at stuff like that. I wonder if Pinkie or RD might know how ta put him in his place…”

“Well, while I…wouldn’t mind being involved in…that, I…think I might know a better way to make Horte…change his tune…or at least swallow his tongue.”

“Ahm listening…”

“I don’t suppose you…have anything like…a dress or something…really nice to wear?”

“Well, I reckon I ken dig out that dress Rarity made for me fer the Great Galloping Gala…”

“You were to…the Great Galloping Gala?”

“Heck ya! I reckon that was one gala no pony round those parts will soon ferget. Ain’t I ever told you about that?”

“No, you haven’t…”

“Well, come over here and settle down by me sugar cube. Let me tell you about one of the most…interesting nights I ever had. Then you ken tell me this big plan of yers…” Peppermill gladly snuggled back onto the couch cushion beside Applejack as she wove her tale of six mares and the premier event of the Equestrian year. All the while the colt began to brew what he thought would be an appropriate way to really stick it to Horte Cuisine.

Comments

[-Brutus]

I would love to see what Peppermill have stirred up and possibly help Applejack to get that special somepony in process, beautiful and likeable OC.

I applaud you once again good sir.