Applejack and Rarity tell stories of everyday life in Ponyville before their friends moved in.
The girls have run out of interesting stories to tell. Each one is either an adventure they've all heard or one they helped to make. In an effort to avoid a boring afternoon, Applejack and Rarity decide to tell a few tales of life in Ponyville before they all became a group of friends. After all, the two of them were born and raised in this town, so who better to tell stories?
The group of friends found a pair of round tables, each one equipped with three seats. They set down their trays of snacks and drinks, then set themselves down wherever they found comfort. Twilight, Applejack, and Fluttershy were at one table; Rarity, Pinkie, and Rainbow were at the other. The tables were close enough for them all to keep talking, which was good since Rarity hadn't once paused with telling her story.
"And that's when I said to her: 'Puh-lease, that isn't a hat, darling! That's a natural disaster that somehow landed atop your head!'"
Pinkie Pie laughed, as they all knew she would, spraying bits of half-chewed peanuts into her tray in the process. "Nice one, Rarity! Heehee!"
One spot over, Rainbow Dash flared her wings and lifted her own tray just in time to avoid the peanut missiles. She swept her area clear with a wingtip before setting her tray back down, then scowled at the two around her. "C'mon, Rarity," she said. "We've heard that one before."
Rarity paused and let her smile fade. "Really?"
"Uh, yeah! Don't you have anything new? What about any stories from your other shops?"
Rarity cast her gaze skyward for several aggravating seconds. "Hmm, I wonder...well, there was that time that you and I attended the opening banquet for Princess Celestia's royal garden..."
"Ugh! No, not that one! I was there for pony's sake!"
"Yes, but the others weren't! Perhaps they'd like to hear that story instead?"
At the other table, Applejack chuckled loud enough for them to hear, as they all knew she would. "Yeah, we've heard it too. Y'all got involved in a crafty little investigation that involved an ol' Wonderbolt veteran."
"And it wasn't all that fun, either!" Rainbow Dash added. "It never is when you're accused of something you didn't do!"
Defeated, Rarity gave a mighty grunt. "Harrumph! Well then, perhaps you should tell a story we haven't heard before."
"Heh, me?" the pegasus asked with a brash smile. "You girls are usually there in any of my stories, and you've seen enough of my Wonderbolt shows to know what happens in those..."
"I've got one," Twilight said. Rainbow Dash instantly popped some fries into her mouth, relieved to have somepony else speak instead of her. "It's a pretty short story, but it's where I went back to Canterlot for a few days, to reconnect with my old friends there..."
Pinkie Pie shook her head, or maybe just buzzed. They could never tell. "Wasn't that the one where you brought me along for an emergency 'feel better' party?"
Twilight instantly clammed up. Rainbow suppressed a groan, then spoke with her mouth full. "Don't we have any new stories?"
With another small chuckle, Applejack set her hoof on her table. "Nah. Looks like we've run dry on that faucet."
"Ugh! If I wanted to eat lunch in silence, I would just go home! Somepony, please, think of something new before boredom joins us."
"Well," the farmer went on, "does it need to be somethin' new? 'Cause Ah reckon some of y'all haven't heard a few of the older tales that found their way around these parts."
Intrigued, the group collectively stopped snacking. All except Rarity, who took the opportunity to sip from her straw. "What do you mean?" Twilight eventually asked.
"Ah mean...well, look. We've all been a part of each other's lives for a long time now, right? It makes sense that a lot of our stories were made with us in 'em, and even those that weren't have been told a hundred times over." Suddenly, she looked Rarity square in the eye. "But Ah'm willin' to bet all the bits in my top drawer that some of us know a few older stories that the rest of y'all haven't heard before."
A few seconds of silence followed. During that time, Rarity smiled. "I know exactly what you mean, darling."
"What?" Rainbow demanded.
Rarity pushed her drink aside so she could lean forward. "Local stories," she began. "Applejack means local stories, the ones that have been here in Ponyville for longer than any of you girls have. Stories that pre-date when all of you moved here. Stories that—" she pointed at Applejack, who wore a similar smile, "—she and I are familiar with, but the rest of you likely are not."
"Are they fun stories?" Pinkie asked with another buzz.
Applejack chuckled for a third time. "Definitely! Why, there's the time a storm blew through here from the Everfree Forest that kept us all cooped up for a week...or that one weekend in the summer when everypony's roofs started to sag for a mysterious reason!"
"It was a series of shoddy repair jobs," Rarity said, "but indeed stories like those. The kinds of miniature adventures that happened here before any of you happened here!"
The remaining friends needed no further convincing. They each stared between the two locals, idly chewing and swallowing without breaking their gazes. It was almost disturbing, but both Rarity and Applejack took pride in it. After all, they both knew that the best kind of customer was one who could listen.
Rarity glanced to her friend. "I think we've won them over."
"No kiddin'," Applejack agreed. "Well, lemme start off with somethin' easy. Didja ever hear the one about..."
It was a hot summer day on the orchard. Applejack was outside with her brother and her granny, trying to ignore the sweat tickling her nose as they waited near the gates to their home. It didn't help that there hadn't been any rain in the last several days, so all of the dirt and dust on the road leading up to them would kick up at the first touch of a breeze. Usually, she would be able to work the orchard for hours before calling it quits; now, though, with the heat and the dust and the gol-darn waiting, she felt ready for a bath and a snack. And it wasn't even time for lunch!
"It wasn't always like this!" Granny Smith declared. "Back in my day, we met indoors when discussin' new business deals! Ponies back then knew enough about hard work to know that ya can't always make it on time, so where's the point of wastin' time anywhere 'cept where it's comfortable?"
Her brother nodded, but he frowned as he did so, almost as if the simple act of nodding rubbed the dust on his body in a gross way.
Applejack shuffled on her hooves. "Ah can run back and get somethin' cool to drink, if y'all like!"
"Bah! And stand out here in the sun waitin' fer ya to fetch something from the nice cool celler? Why y'all'd probably just lollygag around down there for minutes more'n necessary! No can do, sugar seed, if we gotta burn up, you gotta burn up too!"
"But it ain't fair!" she protested. "Why should we wait out here in this blasting heat when our home is just a few minutes ahead? Can't we wait for them indoors? You just said..."
"Ayh know what Ayh said, Applejack!" her granny snapped. "It don't matter none! This trader said he wanted to meet the whole fam'ly, and Sweet Apple Acres is a fam'ly affair! We do this together, or not at all...and if we miss this trade, then we miss the harvests for the next two moons! So plant yer roots in the dirt and wait!"
Applejack turned to face the road, grumbling for a moment afterward. She didn't realize at the time, but her granny had totally missed her point. The trader could have met the whole family indoors just as easily as outdoors.
For several minutes, the three of them stood and waited. It eventually got so bad that Applejack began to see the waves of heat coming off of the road before them. She looked desperately at the sky for any patch of cloud. If only the local weather team would get its act together, they could enjoy just a little bit of shade.
To her side, Big Macintosh sneezed. "Eeyup," he said in defeat.
"Ayh think yer right, Big Mac," their granny said. "Somethin's gone sour. This is takin' too long."
Applejack took a step and scowled. "You're kiddin'! How can you tell that from him just sayin' one little word?"
Granny Smith shook her head, her graying mane bobbing with the motion. "Now, now, sugar seed, you'll learn all about it in due time. But fer now, we've got to change plans. Big Mac," she said with a tap on his shoulder, "grab yer tool bag. Ayh get the feelin' there's a problem down this road that can only be solved by a good whack!"
Great. The only thing worse than waiting in the heat was walking in the heat. Applejack had heard stories about ponies getting lost in deserts, and today felt like nothing less. Big Macintosh turned and began to trot back up the path to their home. She scowled some more, then started to pace back and forth as she waited again, this time for her brother to return. She couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy: he would get some shade, at least for a minute.
"They'd better have a darn good reason for this!" she said with a firm kick to the dirt. Applejack instantly regretted that, as the dirt only flew around her and stuck to the sweat on her nose.
After a few minutes that might as well have been hours, Big Mac returned with his heaviest saddlebags. With barely a word, he started down the road at a steady pace. Applejack noticed that the sweat on his brow had lessened. The big red traitor probably grabbed a drink of water while he was there. She kept her thoughts to herself though, as she and her granny followed at his heels.
Turned out Granny Smith was right. It was a busted wagon wheel.
As soon as they saw the wagon, Big Mac put on a burst of speed. He closed the distance in a little over ten seconds, kicking up a bunch of fresh road dust for Applejack to breathe in. "Oh, horseapples!" she cried before sneezing.
Her granny walked up without so much as a sniffle. "Hellooooo?" she called. "Anypony 'round here? We can help y'all!"
"Nnnope," Big Mac answered. He gestured to the other side of the wagon, where—wouldn't ya know it?—an unmistakable trail of hoofprints was seen headed the other direction, back into town. They were alongside the ruts left by the wagon itself, where they all saw the point of failure. There were even some splinters from the spokes lodged in the dirt. In spite of losing a wheel, the wagon didn't suffer much damage at all. It just titled to one corner and rested there.
Applejack finished catching up. She stood next to her brother as he got to work. "Well ain't this peachy," she grumbled.
"Applejack!" her granny hissed. "Don't go 'round sayin' such vile things!"
She grimaced. In her family, the word 'peach' was something of a curse. It was a strange thing that she didn't understand, but she had stopped arguing about it years ago. "Sorry, Granny."
"Don't bother with bein' sorry. Make yerself useful and help yer brother, why don'cha?"
"But Granny! The ponies who were here went into town! Shouldn't one of us go an' try to find 'em?"
"Nnnope," came a deep answer next to her.
Granny Smith nodded. "He's right. There ain't no point in goin' to town, not to find two ponies. We don't know how long it's been since this wheel broke, an' we don't know where they would go! Better to stick around and wait for 'em to come on back."
"Ugh! And how long will that take?"
"Reckon we'll only find out by waitin'! Now plant yer roots, missy! The best trees are strong an' quiet!"
Applejack wasn't sure how it was possible, but waiting next to a broken cart was somehow even worse than waiting on an empty road. Maybe it was the fact that she now knew that the ponies they were waiting for were not around. Maybe it was just the occasional grunt from her brother asking her for help. Or, hay, maybe it was just because she was eager to be done with all of this wasted time. What did these new ponies have that they needed so bad after all?
Then she took a look inside their wagon, and she got her answer. "Are you pullin' mah leg??"
"What's got you all tangled up now?" Granny Smith called from the other side of the wagon.
Applejack stormed over with one of the wagon's contents slung across her back. She bucked it off and watched with satisfaction as it landed in a heap at her granny's hooves. "Seeds."
"Yup."
"Seeds."
"Yup."
"We've spent all mornin' out in this overbearin' sunlight, getting sweat and dirt on us without even workin' for it, and all just for bags of apple seeds."
"Yup."
Applejack broke. "Why, Granny? We live on an apple orchard! We have plenty of seeds! Why do we gotta have more?"
Granny Smith tittered. "Settle down, sour apple. Why don'cha take a look at what kind of seeds those are?"
She looked down and read the label aloud. "'Mixed braeburn, cortland, and red rome apple seeds.' What the hay are those kinds, and why are we sufferin' so much for 'em?"
"Oh dear," her granny said. "Mixed? That's unfortunate. We'll have to separate 'em before we plant 'em."
"Granny!"
"Yup."
A loud crack made Applejack jump in her skin. Behind her, apparently uninterrupted by the news, Big Mac had finished his repairs. He stood up with a roll of tape still between his teeth, then patted himself along the sides to knock off a new layer of dust. Without a word, he put the tape back into his saddlebags. In the same motion, he bent his head, took the bag of seeds, and casually tossed them back inside the wagon.
No sooner had he closed his mouth than the ponies they were waiting for returned. Like her granny had said, there were two of them: one with a bag of tools held in his mouth, and the other with a fresh wheel balanced on her back. When they saw the family, they each broke out into sheepish grins.
Applejack later learned that the seeds they were buying were bred to do well in the late-season harvest. Each of them grew better in the cold than many of their current varieties, which went a long way to keeping the family farm afloat when their stores ran low. It was still a long and aggravating task to separate each one into their own bins, and she swore she could feel a few that she had swallowed starting to sprout. Nonetheless, the seeds were planted the following day, and the Ponyville weather team brought in a summer storm that evening.
She never got to enjoy it, though. She was grounded for her outbursts.
It was the silliest thing, really. Something as small and forgettable as a house key shouldn't have felt so heavy. Even held up in a soft magical bubble didn't really relieve its weight. Rarity lay on her back and stared at the key for several minutes, lost in the reality that it represented. It had been a long and grueling process, but finally it was hers...and the house it unlocked.
Granted, it was a bit of a fixer-upper. The previous owners had decided to skip town following last year's pumpkin epidemic. But all the better for Rarity, fashionista extraordinaire! With a little time, a little patience, and a little bit of sweeping, her new home would become the envy of all of Ponyville!
In fact, she could do more. With a silly grin that matched the silly feeling, she fantasized her perfect home: great stone columns, an archway the same color as her new cutie mark, and a small spiral slope that was surrounded by glass panels, behind which her newest designs would be displayed. She could even work the dresses to rest atop a moving carousel, giving potential buyers every angle as they marveled over her work! It would be perfect!
A small spider ran along her wall. She instantly shrieked and ran for the other room.
Well, one thing at a time. Where was that broom?
'One thing' evidently involved more 'small things' than she would have ever expected.
A small spider on the wall revealed a small nest just outside her door. The nest was part of a larger network of webs all along her new home's foundation. As she studied the sheer terrible beauty of the network, she spotted alarmingly large cracks in the foundation. The damaged foundation was just enough to cause a second-story window to crack in its pane. That window's design had been discontinued several years ago.
She blew a raspberry at her new key. "I know I'll grow to love you," she said to it, "but right now I sure don't like you."
It took almost a week to hire all of the right ponies for the various jobs she found, but by that time her 'small things' had ballooned into 'big things.' A kind old mare offered to redo all of her windows for a modest price, in exchange for a custom order when Rarity opened her own shop. A suspicious, gruffy stallion told her that the foundation damage wasn't all that bad, but repairing it would take time and bits she hadn't yet earned. She kept his card all the same. She also found a local pest control service who promised to deal with the spider webbing. However, the one she spoke with was apparently arachnophobic. The controller offered to take the job only if Rarity gave up her own—and only—broom. "For self-defense," the pony had assured her.
So when Rarity came home one afternoon with a brand new broom, she got to work as well. "Icky dust can cause a fuss," she sang above the sounds of the working ponies outside.
It took longer than she would have liked (and she incurred a sizeable debt to that gruffy stallion, though he did do good work), but it eventually all came together. Spiders were removed, concrete was supported, and every window in her house was round and so modern! She did her part as well, sweeping up piles upon piles of dust mites. It was lucky that the window ponies were there the same day, or else she would have needed to leave her door open for ventilation. And goodness knows that was too risky, what with all those spiders out there.
Days later, Rarity's savings ran dry. Not too long after that, the money that her parents had gifted to her was gone as well. She took her key and hurled it against her walls, chipping the paint that had only just dried. "Stupid, silly pony!" she cursed herself. "You're too close to the sun now! Do you enjoy falling, Rarity? Is that it?"
One night, she stayed at her parent's house instead. She just couldn't bear to sleep inside of her own. The knowledge of what it was costing her was suffocating, and she swore that she still saw a spider darting up her bedposts. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the spider was made out of money, and it was always running just out of reach. Worse, it was forming a new web to keep her trapped there.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rainbow Dash cut in.
Rarity looked up from the dramatic pose she had struck. "What? Is my hair out of place?"
The pegasus shook her head in disbelief. "Forget your hair, what's this about you going broke?"
"And what happened to the spiders?" Fluttershy asked.
Applejack casually tossed a piece of honeyed fruit into her mouth and swallowed it whole. "Ah've heard this one. She's tellin' the truth, or at least she thinks she is."
"You don't know what it was like!" Rarity said with conviction. "I was at my lowest point, darlings! No savings, no business, and nopony to turn to in my hour of need!"
"Eeyup," Applejack said. "There's the little white lie. You had plenty of help, drama queen. Didn't you say that your parents took out a loan for you so you could make ends meet?"
Unexpectedly, Rarity's face flushed red. "Ha! As if I'd ever need to bother my family with my problems!"
"Suuuure. All right, then...how'd ya get out of that pit you spent so much money to dig?"
"Ahem!"
As it happened, Rarity's parents had indeed taken out a small, simple loan in order to help her. They also reached out to some of their relatives in the capital, who were kind and generous enough to give her only a few extra bits. Put together, it was enough to keep Rarity stable until she managed to open her shop. ("Told ya.")
When she finally did have enough dresses to sell, she opened her doors to a collection of ponies. She saw a lot of familiar faces there, two of whom were her own parents. They held her newborn sister between them, who looked at all the new colors and delicate fabric as though it were part of another world. Rarity spared a moment to ruffle Sweetie Belle's mane before addressing the crowd.
"Welcome, everypony! Thank you for allowing me the honor of hosting you tonight. I'm confident that I have something that will make your dreams come true, so please join me!"
She never got her stone columns. Well, not like she had pictured them at any rate. Neither did she get that fancy archway or that spiral ramp with the displays. Instead, what she got was a showroom floor that was able to host upwards of twenty ponies, each of them showing signs of approval with her craft. While it was true that some of her visitors were her own family, many were faces she had only seen around town. As the night went on, she wrote down their names in her ledger—not that she remembered any of them yet.
That night was a huge success. It seemed that everypony had a need for one of her designs. Better still, they all had bits to spend. She sold dresses, ties, hats, dusters, and even one of her more extravagant headdresses, on top of all the custom order requests she was given. Unsurprisingly, the kind old mare who had helped her with the windows was among those to commission her. By the time the fancy cheese and juice was served, half of her showroom had been purchased. Two hours later, all that remained were the most expensive of jewel-lined gowns.
Rarity found out later (much later, as in years) that her parents had arranged for most of the ponies to be there that night. It was a gamble that had insulted her at first, but she came to realize the necessity of it all. And besides, even if the purchases were made at their request, the custom orders were not. Rarity had a business! It took her all of two seasons to pay back her debts, and she went on to recommend that gruffy foundation stallion when others in town had similar problems. She was nothing if not generous.
Oddly enough, she never had that chip in her wall painted over. She kept it at it was, just like she kept the same key. It served as a reminder to herself, to take her time when chasing her dreams. Above all, though, it was a mark of struggle that turned into success, and honestly she liked looking at it every time she walked into her home. It was a denial of perfection, just like her first few weeks starting out on her own. But it was that same imperfection that made it real. Made it heavy. Just like her house key.
It was time for breakfast on the Apple Family farm, which usually meant somepony was about to cry.
Apple Bloom, who had just started to wear a bow, was trying her hardest to get under her sister's hooves. Apparently, it was a new game the yearling had invented: see how often she could get her big sister to shout before she got bored. Yesterday's record was set at four times in five minutes. Today had surpassed that, but purely for the reason that hot oil was in use and Applejack was trying to be extra careful.
"Big Mac!" Applejack cried, right on schedule. "Can Ah get a little crowd control in here?"
Big Macintosh stuck his head around the kitchen door, his mane still limp from his bath. He fixed her with a confused stare, unable to see the youngest in their family from his angle.
"A little crowd control, big brother?" Applejack repeated. She gestured to the front of the stove with one gloved hoof.
He nodded, shook a few stubborn water droplets from his head, then stepped inside. He didn't want to walk in with soaking hair again, not after last week when water from his mane had landed in the oil. He scooped up Apple Bloom, which seemed to flip her 'cry' switch, also right on schedule. Applejack smiled with relief as they exited, but thought to herself, Whew, if there's one thing we can count on now, it's an adventure every mornin'.
Now free to move, Applejack tried her best to tune out the cries of the foal as she carefully pulled out freshly fried fritters. Two for her, two for Big Mac, and one for Apple Bloom, which she cut into pieces. With a sprinkle of spices and a single pass with a honey-soaked brush, she decided they were ready. She moved to the counter so she could cover the batter she had used. On her way back, she set each of the plates on a large tray, then added her granny's favorite bowl of grits. A few paper-thin slices of apples atop each dish pulled it all together. Her momma would have been proud.
With practiced ease, Applejack slid the tray onto her back and stepped out of the kitchen. Apple Bloom was back under her hooves within seconds. "Whoa, ahh! Big Mac!! Crowd control, crowd controoOOOOAAH NO!"
Apple Bloom had decided that it would be fun to latch onto her sister's hind leg and be carried the rest of the way. The added weight, not to mention stepping on the foal's tail and slipping on the hairs, caused Applejack to lose her balance. As she went down, her last thoughts on the world were Ah never saw Canterlot.
She hit the floor. Stars danced in front of her eyes. Her ears twitched and swiveled with the sounds of the baby laughing, then the unmistakable crashes and bangs of falling plates...
Wait. Nope. No crashes, no broken plates. Big Mac was standing over her, balancing the tray on a single hoof. He stared at it with an intense focus, careful not to drop it—he had needed to over-extend himself to make the catch, and was now about four seconds away from falling as well.
"Whoa, nelly," Applejack moaned.
"Gyah-hah-hah!" Apple Bloom cheered.
"Er..." Big Mac said.
With the excitement behind them, Big Macintosh had the sense to carefully pull himself back and set the tray down at the family table. Applejack shook her head, shook off her sister, and wobbled to all fours. Little Apple Bloom proceeded to pull herself along the floor using just her forelegs, apparently now bored with the old game and eager for something new. Granny Smith was seated at the head of the table, and through some miracle had dozed through the entire ordeal.
Applejack took a breath and composed herself. "All righty, as interestin' as that could'a been, let's not make it a routine."
Over the following weeks, the family fell into a new routine. Applejack would prepare breakfast for the household, usually fritters with the occasional stack of pancakes for the really busy days. She would learn to step around her baby sister until Big Mac came down and separated them. They set the table, woke up their granny, and enjoyed a proper meal before the day's work truly began.
As the weeks turned into years, the rhythm changed but the routine stayed the same. Apple Bloom would learn to help her sister with breakfast, even going so far as to mix in berries with some pancakes. Big Mac would sometimes need to skip a meal in order to get started on a particularly large length of the orchard; on those days, one of the sisters would take out fresh biscuits to him. Granny Smith would always be napping at the table (she swore it was because she woke up during the night and couldn't go back to sleep until an hour later), so they would always shake her awake before they all ate.
But one day, after Applejack had grown into a mare, she came downstairs to see both of her siblings working together in the kitchen. Well, they were more like...accomplices. Apple Bloom would dart from one counter to the next, mixing ingredients and asking questions. Big Mac, meanwhile, managed the stove and oven, giving one-word replies and pointing out where the filly needed to go. All around them was their field of battle: flour and cornmeal spread over every surface, too-thin batter edging over the top of a mixing bowl, whisks and spatulas and spoons resting everywhere except in the sink, and feathers had gotten involved at some point but were now sticking out from random spots in their manes.
Applejack stood there in the doorway, trying to take it all in. She remained there for a good twenty seconds before her family noticed her. Both Big Mac and Apple Bloom instantly blushed, one more obvious than the other, then broke out into embarrassed smiles. "H-hey...good mornin', sis!" the filly said. "Uh, if ya don't mind...can you help us...find a rag?"
She tried to be mad at them, honest. She really tried, looking at the utter chaos they had created and thinking up one snappy remark after another. Instead, the more she looked, the more she ended up smiling too. And eventually, earlier than usual, she started to cry.
They told her what the plan was supposed to be. Apple Bloom had the idea in the first place. She and Big Mac would get up earlier than everypony else, sneak down to the kitchen, and try to make the same kind of breakfast that Applejack had done for years. The feathers had simply come from their pillows, thank goodness. However, they quickly learned that sneaking through a house before the sun had risen was a painful game, to say nothing of trying to navigate the kitchen itself. It wasn't until they decided that fritters were the right choice that they realized neither of them knew how to make the batter just right. And besides, Apple Bloom explained, they were never allowed near the oil when it was hot, so they never learned how to tell when it was hot.
Of course, it was at that moment that the oil on the stove started to smoke.
Applejack clapped her hooves together, sending puffs of flour into the air. She looked at the family table with a silly grin.
Before her was quite possibly the worst breakfast spread she had ever seen. They had fallen back to pancakes, but there wasn't enough flour, so each batch was either slightly runny or very, very small. (Apple Bloom offered to take the small stack.) To make up for it, they had brought out a bushel of apples and sliced them into everything, resulting in tiny pools of juice on every plate and parts of the tablecloth. There hadn't been any time to squeeze juice to drink, so they opted for water instead. The only pony who hadn't been affected was Granny Smith, still sleeping in her seat, unaware of the perfect bowl of grits awaiting her.
Each of the siblings would be hungry much earlier in the day because of this, and yet none of them cared. It was a morning that they would all remember for a very long time. But even so, as they sat down to eat, Applejack gave them a stern but fair warning:
"All righty, as interestin' as that could'a been, let's not make it a routine."
Four of the six friends remained at the rounded tables. Of the two who were missing, one had needed to excuse herself for nature's demands, and the other simply went back for a second helping of everything on the menu. As the group waited, they chatted among themselves about the new stories they were just told.
"Broke?" Rainbow Dash asked. "You seriously went broke for a while?"
Rarity nodded, but looked away as she did. "It wasn't exactly one of my proudest moments. But it did lead up to one!"
"Y'all should'a heard her when she told that story the first time," Applejack said. "It took me almost ten minutes to get the truth outta her, and all the while it was nothin' but darlin' this, darlin' that."
Both Twilight and Rainbow laughed aloud. Twilight had the good sense to give Rarity an apologetic look, which Rarity accepted beneath Rainbow's continued chuckling. Twilight repeated the look for her sake.
"I wish I had known it would get so bad," Rarity explained. "But, as I said, I don't regret any of it. Struggle leads to success!"
"Or a messy kitchen," Applejack said.
"Was it true that your sister was wearing a bow at only a year old?"
"Younger. Ah think we actually got the first one from you."
Rarity paused, her mouth dropping. "Really?"
"Sure! It would'a been the winter after that one strange pony visited...what was his name? Doorknob?"
Twilight swallowed too much of her drink in surprise. She banged on her chest to help ease the pressure of so much juice going down at once. Rainbow Dash helped by reaching over from her table and banging on her back at the same time. As Twilight fought against a coughing fit, Rainbow looked to her other friends. "Doorknob?"
"Er, yes," Rarity answered. "That's not his real name, but I don't know if anypony knows him by a different name."
"I think I've heard that story. Earth pony, wore a big hat, was a huge hit with the schoolponies?"
"The very same."
Twilight recovered enough to speak. "W-what kind of silly name is that?"
Both Applejack and Rarity shrugged. "Beats me," said the former, "but everypony in town knows that name. It was a really interestin' festival, lemme tell ya."
Rarity sat up straight. "I want to be the one to tell it!"
"Aw, c'mon, Rarity. You wanna waste your turn on that story?"
"Who better to tell it? I can get all of the details right. You weren't even working at the festival."
"O' course Ah was! Where do ya think all the snacks and cider came from?"
"Oh! Oh, ahahaha!" Rarity laughed. "Darling, you don't honestly think that all of the ponies there only ate apples, do you?"
Applejack wasn't disturbed. "All that Ah honestly know is that somepony had to stick around and clean up after your little disaster on the stage."
Her friend flushed red for the second time that day. "Don't say a word!"
Applejack grinned in victory. She turned and glanced to Rainbow and Twilight. "Lemme tell ya—"
"Not a word, Applejack!"
At that moment, Pinkie Pie returned, partially hidden behind the mountain of treats she held with one hoof. "Not a word?" she asked from behind the pile. "Is it a sound instead? Wooo! Wooo!"
Fluttershy returned as well. She didn't say anything, she simply nodded to her friends and took her seat again.
"Wait a moment," Twilight said. "All of these stories so far have been about each of you."
"Eeyup."
"That's correct."
"Right. But they've been about each of you separately. When did the two of you meet and become friends?"
"The festival," they answered in unison.
"And we weren't friends," Applejack added. "Not at that point, anyway. In fact, Ah'm pretty sure we did everythin' we could to become enemies."
"You started it."
"Ah finished it, ya mean."
Rainbow Dash rapped on her table for attention. Pinkie Pie didn't seem to notice, preoccupied as she was by diving neck-deep into cotton candy. "That's it! One of you has gotta spill the beans. What happened at this festival? Which festival was it, anyway?"
"Was it fun?" came Pinkie's voice from within her mountain.
"I think we're all curious by now," Twilight said for the group. She looked at each of the locals in turn. "What happened?"
Applejack sat back in her seat. "It was a festival for Ponyville Days. Some of us wanted a simple night of fun. Some others wanted to make a spectacle of it."
"Harrumph. Look, if you insist on dragging my efforts through the dirt—"
"How funny you should say that!" Applejack said in high-pitched sarcasm. "Ah guess you remember the details after all!"
"Well, I never!"
Twilight leaned forward and waved her hooves in a downward motion. "Easy now, girls. It's just a story, right?"
Both Applejack and Rarity relaxed in their seats a little bit. Even with the space between them, everypony saw the sparks fly between their glares. Neither of them spoke; they seemed to have made a contest over who would be the first to blink.
Rainbow Dash eventually ruined that contest. "I'm getting bored, here! Somepony, hurry up and spill!"
