Contraband
“Youze look like youze could use some coffee.”
Turner offered a steaming mug to Soapy, who grunted in acceptance. Soapy joined him at the downstairs table in the inn’s lobby, rubbing his hangover from his eyes. Taking a quick, deep gulp, realizing that he was still slightly intoxicated, Soapy steadied himself in his chair and cast a sideways glance at his companion. “Ya could say that. Ah don’t remember much after that first glass o’ whiskey.”
“Oh, don’t youze worry. Youze were a pretty fun drunk,” Turner replied with a slight smirk. He raised his mug to his lips, chasing his own caffeine high. A long night of drinking and (with some coaxing from Babs and Bloom) dancing had left the grizzled stallion in need of a pick-me-up. He drained his cup and turned to get more. “Though youze singin’ leaves much ta be desired. Anyway, youze want any mo’?”
“Naw, Ah shouldn’t. Dyea’s gonna be wakin’ up soon, an’ then we’ll get goin’. Say, Turner—“
Turner glanced over his shoulder as he poured more coffee. “Yes, Soapy?”
“Ya know, our silver camp ain’t gonna be mo’ than a few miles from here. Ya wanna come ‘long? Ah need a few mo’ hooves fer sluicin’,” Soapy offered, passing the mug back and forth between his forehooves.
Retrieving a fresh cup, Turner trotted back to the table and chewed on the stallion’s words. His savings would only cover his stay for a few weeks. After that, he’d be forced to take whatever work he could find. Soapy and his crew could've traveled to the ends of Equestria by then. He contemplated the prospect, glancing up the stairs and towards the second level of the inn.
Soapy leaned in close to whisper, “Ah know what yer thinkin’. Don’t worry, Ah wouldn’t want ta come between a stallion an’ his family. We work sunup ‘til sundown, but after that, the day is yers. Jus’ give it a thought, alright?”
Turner conceded, “Alright, Soapy, I’ll think ‘bout it an’ let youze know.”
“Great! Now, Ah’d best be gettin’ back upstairs befo’ Dyea—“
“Before I what?” Dyea asked, standing right behind him and tapping a forehoof on the floorboards. Soapy's muzzle paled as he nearly choked on his words.
Turner snorted into his coffee.
~
Turn Key slipped inside the train seconds before it began to pull away from the Appleloosa station. Stumbling on his hooves, he kept the stolen whiskey bottle tucked close under his cloak and lurched forward. He peeked his muzzle out of his cowl as he searched within the rows of sleeper cabs. His Don had promised him that he would not be alone in this venture. Surely, there was another here, marked to him and indistinguishable to the others.
He strode past rows of unmarked cabs. The laughter of a foal in a nearby seat set his teeth on edge. Once a foal, Turn Key was now a stallion, and had left behind foalish things. He’d exchanged his colthood for a tattoo, and received all he’d ever wanted in return.
“Sir, please, find your seat!” called a disgruntled station-guard.
Turn Key merely snorted in reply and stomped his hooves down the aisle. Finally, near the very back of the train, he located his signal. An orange peel was stuck in the sliding-glass door of a sleeper cab. There.
Without hesitation, Turn Key pried the door open, sliding the peel into one of the pockets of his cloak. A beige-and-cream stallion sat on his haunches beside the window, staring out into the grey desert dawn. The flatlands swelled with a brimming sandstorm; Turn Key had been just in time.
“Youze the otha?” Turn Key asked, taking a seat beside him.
The strange stallion kept his eyes glued to the window and grunted, each word strained and slow, “Conceal your voice again. You don’t want them to know where we’re from.”
Clearing his throat, Turn Key shook his muzzle in apology. “Sorry.” Checking to ensure that the cab door was completely closed, he fished the bottle from his cloak and tapped his cab-mate on the shoulder with it. “Look what I got.” His wicked grin betrayed his practiced, stoic nature as he held out his discovery to his brother-in-arms.
The stallion, growing bored of the scenery, turned to face him. He wordlessly accepted the offering and rotated the bottle in his hooves, reading the label. “Applejack Daniel’s, huh? They have some of this at the Appleloosa saloon, too. The drink of choice here.”
“Were you able to get anything from there?”
“Nope. Saloon owner was passed out in the stockroom. Wasn’t willing to risk it. We can’t do anything more direct until the Master says so, anyway," he explained. He ran a forehoof through his mane and crossed them both across his chest. Yawning and closing his eyes, he warned, “Whatever. Gonna be a long ride, buddy, so don’t try anything funny.”
Ignoring his implications, Turn Key took the bottle away from the stallion and removed his cloak, wrapping it around the bottle. Making himself comfortable, he asked one more question. “So, you're Mafia, right?”
“Kings.”
Turn Key froze.
The stallion opened one eye and smirked. “And you’re Mafia, ain’t you, buddy?”
Stammering, feeling a wave of revulsion pass over him and settle in his stomach, Turn Key said, “I-I was t-told—“
“That only Mafia would be on this mission?” The stallion snickered. “Fool. Gullible fool. We're all Knights here.”
He rolled over to face him, getting up on his hooves. “But once we’re back in Manehatten, you’d better watch yourself. I’ve killed many of your brothers with a smile on my face, and I’ll do the same to you,” he vowed, his unshorn fetlock right in front of Turn Key’s eyes, steady, firm.
Turn Key glanced to the stallion’s flank. There, a liquor bottle declared his dubious special talent. In the back of his mind, he recalled a schoolyard bully, a crimson cape, a gang of four that he left for higher things. Once remembered, he shoved it away.
That was years ago. He was a Knight now, a Mafia member, serving Don and King. Poverty and weakness had been abandoned in the dust for glory and power.
Still, a name danced on the tip of his tongue; his cab-mate was no stranger. Try as he might in the seconds that passed, their soulless pupils exchanging daggers between each other, he could not put name to mane.
Losing the staring contest, Turn Key plopped down in the cab and snorted his derision. “Whatever.”
Boone pretended to sleep the rest of the journey back, watching the brainwashed stallion snoring beside him. King Orange was nopony's friend. This joker was a fool to believe him and to serve him.
Truthfully, Boone could've stolen from the Appleloosa saloon, but why bother? It was a worthless mission, a petty distraction from the real aim. In time enough, Bernie Madhoof would serve him, and, perhaps then, he would be the one sent on wild goose chases.
Nevertheless, Boone kept a keen eye on the slumbering stallion. That bottle, if broken, would make a fine knife.
~
“So, Soapy offered youze a minin’ job, eh?” Babs Seed twisted the cap off a bottle of Applejack Daniel’s and poured a double shot into a glass. The hands of the clock hadn't reached five, the sun still blazing in the sky, hours from sunset. However, the bartender made an exception for this customer.
Passing the drink to Turner, she inquired, slight hesitation in her voice, “Well... what did youze say?”
“Dat’s what I wanted ta talk ta youze ‘bout.” Sipping his drink, Turner said, “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout it all day. I really do wanna stay an’ get ta know youze an’ Bloom, but I really can’t stick around fo’ too long. Vagabonds ain’t exactly the best with bits, youze see,” he admitted, staring into his glass.
“Oh.” Babs placed the bottle on a shelf behind the bar and mustered a slight smile. “Well, dat’s alright. I understand. I’m sure I’ll see youze ‘round soon.” Iffa it’s anythin’ like what Bloom an’ I did, won’t see youze fo’ months. Aww, what’s it matta? Youze went youze whole life without—
Apple Bloom poked her muzzle out from the stockroom. “Um, Babs, could ya come back here fer a second, please?”
Sighing, Babs joked, “Iffa I’m not back in a few minutes, send the Guard afta me, alright?” Nudging him playfully in the shoulder, Babs trotted off after her mare, leaving the stallion to his thoughts.
Joining Apple Bloom in the stockroom, dim but for the light of one lamp burning in the center, Babs asked, “What is it?”
Apple Bloom stretched up on her hindhooves, running her forehooves along their liquor shelf. She struggled to reach the top and grumbled, “Ah thought we had at least one mo’… Ah swear we did…”
“What are youze talkin’ ‘bout?” The taller mare rose to her hindhooves and matched the level of the shelf. “What youze need? I think we’re all stocked up in the front.”
“Yes, Babs, but we’re all out o’ Daniel’s back here,” Apple Bloom explained. Giving up, she sat back down on her haunches and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Ah coulda sworn we had at least one mo’ bottle o’ whiskey ta hold us over. Ah think what ya jus’ opened fer Turner was the last one.”
Horseapples! Face-hoofing, Babs returned to her hooves and groaned. “Dammit. Dis place is gettin’ mo’ popular by the night. Gonna have ta steer lots o' ponies ta summat else.” She dug through a box on the floor, hoping it contained one more solitary bottle. It was to no avail, only kicking up more dust in the stockroom.
“Aw, don’t worry. Ah’ll jus’ get a letter ta Applejack an’ ask her ta send mo’ sooner. Hey, have you seen Pinkie Pie at all, by the way? Ah’m sure she wouldn’t mind deliverin’ it.”
“I did. She took off fo' Appleloosa earlier ta-day wit’ a bunch of minin’-ponies,” Babs answered, shoving the empty box away. "She looked pretty happy, though. Wearin' dat silly outfit an' singin' 'bout sharin' again."
"Oh. Ah see." Following behind Babs Seed as they returned from the stockroom, Apple Bloom felt compelled to raise more questions, but decided against it. After all, if anypony could find their way back through the desert plains to Appleloosa, it would be Pinkie Pie. That mare had far too many tricks up her... hooves.
"I was jus' 'bout ta call the Guard!" Turner teased, raising his glass. Finishing his drink, he wiped the back of his muzzle and said, "I s'pose I don't get seconds fo' delayin'?"
"Hmm, I dunno... What do youze think, Bloom? He deserves anotha drink?"
Apple Bloom laughed. "Ah dunno. This is our last bottle, after all," she replied, winking at the stallion. She nudged Babs and added gingerly, "But didn't Ah interrupt a mo' important discussion?"
Turner cleared his throat and forced a grin. "Ah heh heh, um, yes, I think youze did... Er... See, it's jus'..."
He paused, sighing, staring at the liquor shelf for a few seconds before turning back to Babs. "I really don't wanna jus' up an' leave youze so soon, 'specially afta... everythin'. But I need the work, an' Soapy says we won't be far away."
"Soapy's an honest foreman. Ah would trust him," Apple Bloom said, tilting the scales a bit. Although it had only been two days since their reunion, Apple Bloom knew that Babs and Turner both yearned to make up their lost time with as few interruptions as possible. Her mare hadn't explicitly said it, but she understood the reason Babs hadn't referred to the stallion as "father" quite yet. The definition, accurate as it was, couldn't bridge the gap between them. Only time could.
Babs Seed drummed a forehoof on the counter, lost in thought. True. He always did pay us, even when he hated me, an' things were bad. I don't think Soapy would lie. But I jus' don't know iffa I wanna say goodbye ta... him... so soon.
"I'll come back heeya every night, an' catch up wit' youze," Turner promised, placing one of his forehooves on top of Babs's own. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, "An' we can tell those stories we've been meanin' ta tell. I'm sure youze have a lot, as do I. Babs, I'm real sorry dat—"
"No, it's alright," Babs dismissed, although she did not brush him away. She smiled slightly in return. "Youze need the bits, an' youze won't be far from heeya. I think it's perfect. Jus' promise me one thing, alright?"
"O' course. Anythin'."
"Youze strike silver, youze splittin' wit' me, got it?" Flicking her right ear, Babs joked, "I need dis ear ta match the left one eventually!"
"Oh, no, you don't!" Apple Bloom chuckled into a forehoof, an impish grin on her muzzle. "Ah'm not gonna watch you pass out again."
"... Bloom!" Blushing, Babs glared at her mare, who merely threw up her forehooves in surrender.
"What? You don't remember, sugarcube? Why, ya were white as a ghost!"
"Oh, so she's a fainta," Turner deduced with a laugh. "Would've fooled me."
The other two joined him in his jest, and their little jokes and jabs at each other soon filled the gap between five o' clock somewhere and five o' clock in the saloon.
Once the sun began its descent, Apple Bloom flipped the sign on the bar, inviting the rest of the West to come and share in their merriment. The West responded as it always did, mares and stallions of all varieties filing in. Between the hustle and bustle of drink and serve and banter, the remaining tale of Babs Seed's and Apple Bloom's gold mining adventures in Yukon (as well as the piercing mishap) was retold, to the slight embarrassment of one mare and a stallion's amusement.
Despite all the fights she'd been in through the years with ponies and timberwolves and coyotes, it was the piercing on the nicked ear that hurt the most. The irony never failed to elude Babs Seed; the "first piercing" right above it had been far more cruel, though it, too, had stolen her consciousness.
For better or worse, the holes in her ear were a reminder of all she'd been through—what they had been through—and Babs vowed never to forget it.
On that night in the desert plains, the first night before Turner took to the mining game in the hoof-steps of his daughter, Manehatten seemed impossibly far away. A lifetime away.
~
“Where did you get this?”
“I-I-in a b-b-bar in the w-wasteland,” Turn Key mumbled, his entire body shaking as he lie prone on his Master’s carpet. His words melded with the thick, white fabric and shattered any illusion of courage or might. In the presence of his one and true Master—the only stallion he feared in the entire city—Turn Key was a cowering slave.
The Master tossed the whiskey bottle between his forehooves, back and forth, back and forth. “Wasteland,” he repeated grimly. “Wasteland.”
Rising from his chair, he left the bottle on his mahogany desk and studied his map intensely. “Waste… land…” His words circled around the circumference of his office, lingering in the ears of the guards and jester bowing before him. With a forehoof, he circled over the Equestrian map.
Silence filled the room, interrupted occasionally by the scratch of a fetlock rubbing its strands against parchment.
Then, there was a CRASH! of glass bottle striking the opposite wall of the office, narrowly missing the muzzle of a guard as it flew.
“WASTELAND?!”
Turn Key gasped as a pair of forehooves grabbed him by the collar of his cloak and lifted him into the air. He flailed his hindhooves uselessly. The Master surpassed him in wealth, health, intellect, and strength. And he knew it.
Turn Key whimpered pitifully, all four of his hooves trembling. “P-p-please…”
“What kind of IDIOT do you think I am?!” Madhoof pulled the fool up to meet his eyes. They were wild and empty in the same instance, cold fire burning in the blackness. “Wasteland! You come into my office, bring me this contraband, and tell me it’s from a bucking wasteland?!
“Deserts don’t have water, imbecile! How, tell me, would somepony open a bar in the middle of bucking nowhere?!” He covered his Knight in his spittle, muzzle-to-muzzle with him, observing the cowardly Mafia gangster devolve into a sniveling foal in his grasp. Violently he shook the jester, wiping that smug smirk off his face. “Answer me, nitwit!”
“I-I-I d-don’t know!” Turn Key cried, a shameful tear streaking down his cheek. Now he’d done it. In an instant, his Master’s rage dissipated, replaced with a growing, devilish smile. Chills froze his spine and all its matching limbs. “I-I went o-out, w-way out, fartha than A-Appleloosa… Dey got it there, too, sir! In th-the d-desert town…”
“Then, why didn’t your little coltfriend bring me anything? Or did you steal this from him?”
Madhoof kicked off his hindhooves and slammed the pitiful stallion into the wall, grinning when he groaned in pain. “All of you pithy little Knights are mere pawns to me, but I have more faith in that idiot than you! At least he can string a sentence together!”
“P-please,” whined Turn Key, his back throbbing with white-hot pain. “P-please, put me d-down, sir.”
“What did you say?!”
“I-I a-asked—“
“ENOUGH!”
With one quick motion, Bernie Madhoof flung the Knight across the room. The stallion landed against the map with a THUD! and slid down, tearing the parchment in the process.
Enraged, Bernie Madhoof clapped his forehooves together. Zebra and stallion guard jumped upon the jester, pressing the barrels of their rifles against his temples.
With nothing left to lose, Turn Key began to sob, flailing his limbs and whimpering in agony. He had done as he was told. He had broken into a bar in the West and retrieved the contraband, the proof that its owners were selling something other than his Master’s brew. He had survived the train ride with his enemy and returned to the Mansion, bearing gifts for his King. He had done everything right.
So, why, then, was the Master standing over him, laughing, rejoicing in his pain and misery?
“You want to know a secret, little Knight?”
“Y-y-yes, s-sir.” Turn Key sniffled as he peered up into his eyes.
Bernie Madhoof leaned down to whisper in his ear. “That whiskey you brought me is the work of clumsy, inferior hooves. Hooves that will soon come to know my wrath. I know not where you got it from, Appleloosa or beyond, but my Knights shall find and destroy the bar you burglarized.”
A flicker of hope surged through his heart. He raised his head up slightly, letting the hint of a smile grace his countenance. “S-so, I d-did good, Masta?”
“The best,” answered King Orange. And then, with a grin towards his guards, he ordered, “Kill him.”
With the squeeze of two triggers, the thief in the night had nothing to fear anymore.
Damn. Just... damn.
Wow. This story is a work of art
Whelp, I'm glad I don't work for Bernie.
alright, I'm finally back after my internet got a buck where the sun don't shine, it's fixed, but the connection is fragile and laggy, so much so i cant view pictures or play embedded videos, im so happy this is finally out, and give Lulu a hug for me for doing that badass cover
ONWARDS! when i get back from school (ps: i rewatched one bad apple, and I remember why we love babs so much, its definately dat accent or summat )
EDIT: damn... just damn, turn key got killed in cold blood by his own master...
well thats what you get for being a criminal and serving a scum sucking deucebag of a villianish king
I wonder if Babs and AB are going to try and start yet another CMC chapter in this town of vagabonds and miners, because the second one went soo well...
bernie....WHAT....THE....FUCK
2475607
he's lucky that he doesn't **** with a human
2475654
I'm not sure I agree with the claim that a pony is less dangerous than a person. I mean, have you read Fallout Equestria? That shit gets nuts.
Fuck...I knew it. The moment that Boone was there on the train, I knew. Poor Turn Key. He didn't even get a chance at redemption...
Madhoof, you fucking asshole. Just, what the fuck? That was completely senseless! There was no reason behind that. The poor colt did everything he was told, and he got blown to the afterlife. You deserve to rot in Hell.
The would could be ending, and Pinkie Pie would still be Pinkie Pie. I swear...
On a side note, my brain finally has it locked in that Babs and AB are no longer fillies.
Now if I could just get the voices fixed...
2476163
Remember who Chief Brutus is working for?
Also, other things than oranges are sold. Madhoof just doesn't want any...apples...around.
Bernie apparently never read the "Evil Overlord Top 100" because he's just digging his grave deeper with each passing moment and he doesn't even realize it.
Another excellent chapter and keep up the good work!
"There is a fine line between using fear as a tool instead of a crutch. The true mastermind uses absolute fear mixed with impossible kindness as a tool to keep both themselves and their minions in check. A coward uses fear as a crutch to mask their own cowardice and short-comings. The difference is that a tool is far more versatile than a crutch and lasts much longer."
I'm sure you know which way I see Bernie ^^
2475673
true you have a point
When I saw this story on the Featured list... I thought, Oh, a good three chapter story about Babs and AB, let's read it! That was yesterday morning at 8 AM. I have done nothing but read this story for the past day. I read the first story from 8AM - 9PM, with breaks for food and restroom, and from 9PM-4AM I read part of the second story. I skipped school today to finish reading the second story, and proceed to read this. And I find out there is a new chapter. Thank you for insomnia and failing grades, Bad_Seed_72. Thank you so much.
Hide in the shadows,
Let night blanket you,
And make no noise, less your sin
Be discovered,
Seek no treasure,
Only one objective,
And retreat into the darkness,
This is the art of shadowy wars.
Let night embrace you,
Flee from the truth-revealing light!
Hide your face, less your scars
Be seen,
Trust no being,
Only yourself,
Even brothers have killed,
Each other before
Choose your words carefully,
Lies are punished worse than truth,
And hold your tongue, less you rather
Have it cut,
Seek no reward,
Only mercy,
And with the crack of a gunshot,
You may hide no more.
2479091 oh my gosh.... Oh my gosh I didn't realize that until you and Robored pointed that out....I feel like something has shattered within me...
Innocence, yes I do believe that's what it was. The comforting illusion that blood is thicker than water.
Well, I'm all caught up now! Woo!
Nice way to make almost everything I said on the last chapter wrong. I mean, I still think that the bar will be destroyed, but now it seems more like an assault type situation will destroy it, rather than arson in the night. Although, the assault situation would give Babs the opportunity to see the tattoos... Hmm, that would kind of make sense.
Also, damn, only two of the Manehattan CMC left, counting Babs. That's pretty sad. I'll have to check whether or not this story has a sad tag, 'cause it certainly seems like it should at this point. Poor Turn Key...
Now I eagerly await more!
-RisingOne
EDIT: No sad tag, but I suppose the dark tag covers it. So, I'm good there.
2475335 2475652
Yup...
2475416
Thank you, my friend!
2475607
Agreed.
2475894
Thanks! That song definitely fits. And yes, she was in season (hence how she got pregnant) but there was emotion involved as well. Being married to Madhoof and all...
2475906
Madhoof's name is definitely deserved at this point.
Agreed, Pinkie Pie would just dance in the fires of the apocalypse, not a care in Equestria. She's one of my favorite characters.
Haha yup, they're full-grown mares now. Just curious, what do their voices sound like to you?
2476507
Thanks, Shadow_Wolf, and thank you for another excellent quote. We'll have to see if Bernie keeps on digging. I'm pretty sure I can take a stab at how you see ol' King Orange.
2477129
Wow! I'm extremely flattered you enjoyed my stories that much, though I do hope you get some sleep! And stay in school! LOL! But no seriously, thank you and I hope you enjoy the rest!
2477940
Perfect little ode to Turn Key, thank you, my friend.
2478401
Woohoo, it's good to have your reviews back! You brought up a valid point and criticism and I appreciate that. I do know that there were some readers who started with SAA instead of TR and had little trouble following what was going on; the first chapter of SAA (and TR of course) reads more like a first chapter of a story than this one, I agree. Technically, the Epilogue of TR is more of the first chapter, or part of it. This one is gonna be hard to follow if you haven't read either of the other stories, you're right. So thanks, my friend, I will keep that critique in mind for future works. :)
I'm glad you liked the rest of the chapter! Heh, I can relate to Turner too. And yup, she was wearing the "Over A Barrell" saloon outfit!
2479091
Yup, glad you caught that, tragic as it is...trust me, lots of subtleties in all three of these stories, some of which are yet to be revealed. Keep them keen reader's eyes open, my friend!
2479153
Indeed...shattered innocence...blood is not always thicker in water, not everywhere.
2479197 2479274
Thanks! We'll have to see how many of your predictions are correct. As far as the unicorn goes, he was either an investor or a speculator, checking out the lands of gold, oil, and silver. Expansion and all that. I left the "Sad" tag off this story (unlike the two others) because, similiar to what you said, it is more of a "Dark" story than a sad one. IMO, TR and SAA were sad because of family issues, hence why I put the tag on there. (There were other sad parts, of course, but I think you know what I mean.) But yes...prepare for feels, all kinds of feels.
2479313
Robo is correct, and yes, they were/are.
2479325
LOL, dat mental image! And now I want some chocolate milk. The reveal of him as her father is in the Epilogue, but not as in-depth as this chapter of course. Glad you enjoyed it, my friend!
2479970 yeah, Poor Turn Key, even if he did betray... He did everything he was supposed to do . Just another thing to add to the VERY long list of things I hate about Madhoof.
2479970
(Just looked back at my comment and realized I typed "would" instead of "world". Herpderp.)
I have the looks issue sorted out, but I keep hearing them as fillies in my head, and I'm certain that their voices should have changed by now.
I had a deeper voice with a thick, sterotypical Brooklyn accent for Turner back when he first appeared in Tangled Roots. But looking at the artwork of him now, that voice just doesn't seem to fit quite right. Need something a little gentler. Something not as brash.
On another note:
Methinks Turner's counting was off...
2479970
Your stories are sooo good man. Keep on writing!
And I'm still passing all my classes, so I don't care about school anyhow. XD
2480861
I'm gonna wager that list will get longer before the story's over.
2481070
LOL, yes, I'm thinking puberty changed their voices (or at least I hope so)! He's got the thick accent, but he's not as biting and brash as his daughter, heh. And yup, his counting was definitely off. He should've listened to his gut, no?
2481990
Thanks, my friend! LOL alrighty then, since you're passing all your classes, I will spare you a lecture! Kidding!
2484121
sounds about right.
Speaking of right--er... write, where's Wayword? I miss reading the poems he'd write for each chapter.
2484169
Mac is best stallion.
I'm not sure! Last time I talked to him was about a week ago, though I saw he was online today. I sent him a PM today, so he should see it next time he logs on. I agree, his poems are missed, but I'm sure he'll be back soon.
2484121
Aww... I love lectures so much though!!!
Especially from Trollestia. They tend to be most entertaining.
Honest opinion, I'll be shocked if anyone we like will make it out if this story alive.
oog, kinda zoned out when the anthology was going on. Real life and all that crab-apples. Honestly, I can't say I feel all too sorry for Turn Key, the traitor.
Dear gods.. Madhoof you HERETIC!
Madhoof isn't a complete fool. How come he hasn't attacked the source of the Applejack Daniel's? I'm not trying to get anypony hurt, just....going after the business that sell the product than the manufacturer is quite a bit more time- and resource-consuming.
Oh shit! That ending...
2500099 It's about control and revenge, he may be insane but Bernie's also a chess player a thinker. Instead of just destroying the farm directly, he's going to wring it dry. Make sure that not a single bit goes into Sweet Apple Acres, until the apple family goes bankrupt, Thus once in for all proving that apples are inferior to Oranges, and the best part he can't seriously be traced to it. If they really wanted to dig in and find out what happened they could but not without entering Manehatten which none of them want to go near. They'll think they failed. Crushing their spirits and proving his superiority.
Ok I'm gonna get back to reading this story now. I needed to get caught up on my others, and ended up trying some new ones, but decided this is still my favourite on fimfiction and that I need to finish it.
Anyway great chapter I feel the pacing was better in this one. Also I KNEW apple bloom or Babs seed would find out about the missing bottle. They're too clever for madhoof and his gang of apple haters
Madhoof has definitely moved further onto my hatred list, which I didn't think was possible. He is officially my most hated antagonist ever.
This story has moved Babs seed right up to #2 on my favourite character list, and I already loved her I was all when DHX said no more Babs seed in season 4. Anyways great chapter. I will read on tomorrow after I sleep thanks to summer holidays
I just remembered that Turn Key was a member of the Manehattan CMC.
Now he's dead.
Dayum, are there any Manehattan CMC members left? Bernie is a bitch! lol
Dang, Bernie. (I have the misfortune of remembering this guy and Boone has never left my mind although I wonder what Card Slinger has been up to?)
5992394 Only one and he's a MPD officer now.