Dueling Granjos

by TheDriderPony

First published

At the Apple Family Reunion, a reluctant participant takes the opportunity to boast about how rich she is and how accomplished her children are. She should have kept up with the family newsletter.

While most Apples fall somewhat close to the tree, this is not universally true.
Some Apples land on a hillside and try to roll away from the Tree as far and fast as they can.
This is the story of Lady Alice Careen (née Apple), who thought that distance made her better, when really it only left her ignorant.


An entry for Bicyclette's 1000 words contest (group / info) in the "Humo(u)r" category.

There's No Managers Among Family

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Lady Alice cringed at the sound of jaunty banjos drifting through the air like some woefully misinformed siren trying to beckon her home. The noise held no charm for her; it only further served to remind her why she'd left the day she turned thirteen.

Now she was back. Older, wiser, richer, better than all of them.

Unwillingly back, of course. She’d forgotten the date and strayed close enough to her backwater hometown that some erstwhile relative managed to detect her Apple heritage with their sixth sense and dragged her back to the dreaded Reunion.

And that was how she ended up, for the first time in forty years, imprisoned in a quilting circle by her inane hillbilly relatives.

“Ken you believe it?” Smith guffawed, her spindly limbs flailing like a spider.. “Lil’ Cousin Lady Alice, home at last!

"Who?" asked another fossil, somehow her cousin despite being decades older.

"Lady Alice. You know, Empire's girl."

"Who?"

"Empire. Uncle Cider's second wife."

"Cider? Cider's dead."

"Ah know, but his filly's here. Cousin Ally's finally come home to roost!"

It was torture. Unlawful detainment and unethical treatment of prisoners. She only wished she could just make a scene and storm off... but that'd be playing right into their hooves. Proof that she was no more refined or cultured than her ignoble origins. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

In fact, perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. A golden opportunity to show these bumpkins just how much better she was without them.

"Back?” she scoffed. “Hardly. I’ll be leaving as soon as my carriage arrives."

One of them gave her a gummy smile. “Well we best be makin’ up for lost time! You got yerself a husband yet?”

Yet?! How dare— "Yes. Twenty-three years now. He just made partner at his law firm in Phillydelphia."

Smith sucked on her teeth. Disgusting. "Sounds fancy. He make good money? Provide for ya?”

More than they’d ever see. “Plenty.”

“Well, you give him our best. Bring him next year so he ken meet the family!”

Ha! As if she was even going to tell him about this. “He’s much to busy to come somewhere so… ramshackle.”

"Ramshackle? We ain’t got no sheep or chains here." Smith swept her foreleg out. "That there's five hundred acres of the best farmland in Equestria! Course, that'll be changing soon."

Alice grinned as she smelled blood in the water. "Oh? Money troubles? Going to have to parcel and sell it off?"

"Nope! Jus' the opposite! Me an' Granpear buried the hatchet an' he wrote my three youngins inta his will. When the old coot finally kicks it, they'll be gettin' another thousand acres each!"

Alice caught her jaw before it could drop. Three thousand acres. She might be rich, but if the hicks had the sense to sell even half of that they'd be Canterlot rich.

Wealth was clearly not going to be a battle she could win, so she chose a new arena. The one thing they valued over dirt and apples. Family. No doubt her children were far superior for having been properly raised, and their successes were her successes.

"You know, my eldest son got married recently. Fine mare, her father's in oil."

"Sounds slippery. Shame we missed it. Ah musta misplaced the invitation." Smith’s face brightened. "They ken be guests of honor at Big Mac's wedding. It's his third wife."

"What happened to the other two? Infidelity? Sickness? Dead?"

"Naw, they'll be there too. The three of them worked it out and decided Marble and 'Shy got ta go first cause they knew him longer."

Impossible! A three-way marriage? It was indecent! It was immoral! It was... a way their kid had beat hers.

New strategy!

“My daughter, Ambrosia, recently graduated from Princesston University. With highest honors.” See the hayseeds top that!

“Issat a fact? Good on her. A young mare needs a good head on her shoulders.”

One of the other dinosaurs chimed in. "Didn't your Applejack's get one of those?"

"What, a degree?" Alice smirked.

"No, a highest honor. Aha! That's it! She got a Medal of Honor from Princess Celestia."

Alice nearly choked on her veneers. "A Medal of Honor!? For what!?"

"Meritorious and valorous service to ponykind," Smith recited. "Ah got it framed next ta her rodeo ribbons. Ah'll send Caramel to go fetch it—”

"No. No need." She didn't need it rubbed in her face. It had to be a fluke. The filly probably threw herself over a mud puddle so the princess wouldn't step in it or something.

She gnashed her teeth. No! She was supposed to be better than these yokels, otherwise what was the point?! At least she still had one child left in the chamber.

"My son! Wine Sip! He has a part-time job and he's only thirteen." No need to mention he was working for his father as a glorified coffee fetcher.

“Ha! Must run in the family. My Applebloom's barely thirteen herself and she's started ger own company.”

"She what?!"

"Oh yes, with a coupla her friends. Some kinda fancy consultancy-whachamacallit. Most of it goes right over my head."

A company? At that age?

“Gonna open up a branch in Griffonstone, t'boot.”

With an international branch?!

Lady Alice saw white. A piercing whine cut through the air, rising in pitch till it was a voiceless wall of pressure squeezing out her thoughts. She was supposed to be better than them. Richer. More educated. Happier.

And yet… and yet…

What did they still have that she didn’t?!

The pressure reached a climax and the whiteness abruptly turned black.


Granny Smith looked over the collapsed form of her cousin. "Huh. Heat musta got to her head. Always was a fragile one. Weak constitution. S’why they had to send her off to the city where life's cushy and easy. Can’t handle country livin'.” She whistled sharply and a dozen heads turned her way. “Somepony get some cold cider! We got a cousin down for the count!”