Big Mac's Guilty Little Pleasure
By Richtus
Big Mac smiled and waved a hoof from the porch of his house as he watched his sister Applejack trot off to the fields. The big red stallion had been pushed himself very hard for the past couple of weeks, it was Applebucking season after all. Applejack insisted that he took today off to relax and unwind as a small reward for such hard work. He tried to argue, he told her that he was just fine, but she wouldn't hear a word against it. She was always the most stubborn of the family. They were nearly done with the harvest, and she could easily finish what was left on her own. Finally he relented and Applejack gave a big grin of triumph, then gave him a pat on the shoulder before she headed out the door.
As Applejack disappeared into the distance, Big Mac couldn't help but grin widely.
All according to plan.
He looked forward to this every year. A little private ritual that he performed annually for the past several years. However, he was always a little embarrased by it, so he kept it private and did his best to create an opportunity such as this.
He turned around to head back inside and stepped as quietly as he could so as not to wake Granny Smith, who napped in her rocking chair. He closed the door behind him and headed towards his bedroom while he went over his mental checklist.
Granny was asleep on the porch, Applebloom was off at school, and Applejack would be out in the orchard all day. Nothing could be more perfect.
He stepped into his bedroom, then closed and locked the door behind him. He went to the window and peered out of it. He could have no interruptions. He saw that nopony was around then drew the curtains shut. He turned back to scan over his room. It was a simple setup. Bed, small desk with chair, closet. A simple room for a simple stallion.
With a nod of satisfaction that everything was in order, Big Mac stepped over to his closet and pulled it open. He nudged aside the rows of yokes that hung there, then dug into the closet for his prize buried deep in the back. His hooves came into contact with the object in question and eagerly pulled it out.
He set down a large cardboard box in front of the closet and opened up the flaps. He quickly surveyed the contents before he lifted out a smaller black box, about half the size of the cardboard one. He set it on the floor for the time being, against the same wall as the door, then dug down into the box again. This time he pulled out a large set of denim overalls that looked worn but comfortable. He grinned widely, eyes bright.
He struggled a bit to get those overalls on. It was a full body model, as opposed to the half body version of clothing that most ponies pick when ever they decide to wear clothes at all. Several minutes of grunts and silently muttered curses later, he finally got them on. The denim covered him all over, which left his tail, hooves, head and shoulders free. He lifted a hoof up to adjust the shoulder straps before he looked down and over himself. A little tight, but it looked good!
He stepped over towards the little black box, but paused briefly at the cardboard box. He looked down at the little cloth wrapped bundle at the bottom of the box and bit his lip briefly. He shook his head and moved on. All in due time.
Big Mac came to a stop at the little black box. He reached a hoof down to flip up the lid, which revealed a well cared for record player. The vinyl disc was already in place. It only waited for somepony to broadcast its voice. The stallion turned on the player, then nudged the needle into place. He stepped to the center of his room as the record spun up to speed. A few brief crackles could be heard before the music began.
It began with a low and steady rumbling noise, like a distant roll of thunder. After a few moments a peppy guitar tune began to play. The big stallion started to tap a hoof along with it, then bounced his body slightly with the beat. As the music started to pick up, his eyes drifted across the collage of photos that were nailed, taped, and pasted to the wall above the record player. He crouched down on all four hooves, then pushed himself up, chest first, as the first words of the song came through, sang by a slightly effeminate voice.
"When you grow up, livin' like a good colt oughta," Big Mac thrust his chest forward, head held high as though he were presented to someone, "And your mama, takes a shine to her best son." As Big Mac turned in place, his body dipped deeper with each beat, his eyes once more passed over the collection of color and black and white photos.
The first photo he focused on showed a much younger Big Mac. He looked more like a red twig that had just begun to fill out, rather than the solid piece of pony that he is today. He was dressed in a blue robe with a tasseled hat on his head, a big grin on his face as he clutched a rolled up piece of paper in his teeth. He stood in the same pose he briefly held at the start of the song. Next to him was an older mare, also with a wide grin on her muzzle. Her coat was the same dark orange of a sun. Her mane was grey and white like a cloud and her bright eyes were the same emerald as his sisters, which peered out behind a small pair of spectacles. Her flank was adorned with a single large and whole red apple.
A brief sigh escapes the stallion as he shook his head, and brought his attention back to the song. "Something different, all the girls seem to like you," He couldn't hold back a smile as he spun around again, and lifted his hooves a little higher with each step. "Cause you're handsome," He came to a stop and faced the mirror that was nailed to one of the doors of his still open closet. A foreleg lifted up as he flashed a grin at his reflection and narrowed his eyes, then wiggled his brow comically. "Like to talk and a whole lot of fun."
He turned once again towards the door and the photos as he let his head lead each time his body swayed back and forth to the music. "But now your girl's gone a missin', and your house has got an empty bed." His attention drifted to another picture on the other side of the collection, close to the center. It was a head shot of that same sunset orange mare, who still smiled serenely behind those spectacles, but this photo had a small black ribbon attached to the top corner.
Big Mac grunted and turned away. He attempted to get back into the tune. "The folks'll wonder 'bout the wedding, they won't listen to a word you said." He paused again as more memories flooded in.
Her name was Rosie Bell. The prettiest filly in school, with a powder blue coat and blonde mane, her cutie mark a pair of roses twisted around a golden bell. Every colt wanted her, but she only had eyes for the then awkward and quiet red and orange stallion to be.
Theirs was a romance right out of a fairy tale. They spent nearly every waking moment together, rarely out of each others sight. They were to be married shortly after they graduated from school, much to the delight of each of their parents. Both families were on friendly terms, and this bond could only strengthen that friendship.
Rosie Bell's father, who owned a shipping company, had a job on hold just for Big Mac after the wedding. This would greatly benefit both families. The best apples of Ponyville could become the best apples of all of Equestria! But he would have to move away to Manehattan for that, which he was reluctant about. But with his mother's blessing and the encouragement of Rosie and her family, he agreed to it.
Then the accident happened.
It was a couple weeks after graduation. The night of the wedding. Big Mac had finished his final preparations, dressed in his suit, nervous about the ceremony that was minutes away and the big move the next day.
Suddenly a young nurse burst into the house, which startled everypony that was there. She spoke frantically to Granny Smith. Her eyes, and the eyes of those around her widened. She rushed upstairs and told Big Mac. His jaw dropped, stunned for several moments before he took off past her, down the stairs and out the door. Granny gathered up Applejack and Applebloom as quickly as her old bones would let her before they followed after Big Mac.
He galloped as fast as he could for the hospital. A tear slid down his face as Granny's words whirled in his head.
It was dark.
A runaway cart.
No chance.
The only blessing was that it was instant.
She was already gone by the time he got there. He barely heard a word as the doctor with him explained the situation. He could only stare at the sheet covered body on the hospital bed. He numbly walked over and sat down on his haunches next to the bed. He laid his head down on the bed, then gave her side a gentle nuzzle before he closed his eyes.
The service was nicely performed, kind words from Mr. Wattle. The four Apples of Sweet Apple Acres stood quietly by the grave that had just been covered. They acceped greetings and consolations from family, friends and other guests as they filed past.
After the last of the guests had left, Big Mac left to meet with Rosie and her family. He had thought a great deal of things before and during the service and had come to a decision.
He had decided to stay at the farm and help the family. Applebloom was still practically a baby, Applejack could barely buck a tree, and Granny already felt the consequences of getting to her age.
Rosie's parents were not happy about this. They told him he chose to throw away his future. They said Rosie wouldn't want to stay with him on a dusty farm in a backwater little town. He looked at her, about to ask if she would come back with him , but her eyes wouldn't meet his own. He scowled and turned to leave, then bucked the door shut behind him, which brokeoff its hinges.
The memory of the last time he saw Rosie ened as a heavy hoof stomped down in frustration. It made every piece of furniture in the room shudder and even made the record player skip and knock the needle off.
He blinked and looked around the room as he came back to reality. His chest heaved, his mind whirled with emotion. He quickly calmed himself down and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He wiped his face dry with a hoof as he walked over to the record player and set the needle back where it was. He quickly jumped back to the middle of the room and picked up where he left off.
"Gonna take your mama out all night, yeah we'll show her what it's all about." His eyes were closed as he smiled. He quickly got into the music again and strut across his room, one hoof at a time, as he thought back to his graduation night. His family, along with many visiting cousins, all went for a night on the town in Canterlot. "We'll get her jacked up on some cheap champagne, we'll let the good times all roll out." He grinned more at that and let his shoulders shimmy and shake as he lowered and raised the front of his body.
He opened his eyes again and focused on the center of the photos, an image of one of his happiest memories. It was a picture from one of the clubs that night. Big Mac and his mother were front and center, along with Applejack who carried tiny Applebloom on her back. She stood next to them on one side while Granny stood on the other side. Even cousin Braeburn and many other branches of the Apple clan were there. They all surrounded the farmers as they smiled brightly and held up drinks in a toast to the camera.
"And if the music ain't good, well it's just too bad, we're gonna sing along no matter what." He chuckled to himself as he saw the other picture right next to that. Both Granny and his mother were seen grinning widely as they clutched bits in their teeth. Both of them were eagerly leaned towards some stallion dancers on a stage who wore only bow ties. Big Mac could also be seen. He had covered his eyes with one hoof while he covered Applejack's eyes with the other hoof. She in turn covered Applebloom's eyes. "Because the dancers don't mind at the Neigh Orleans, if you tip'em and they make a cut."
A quick jump and turn in place got Big Mac back into his groove, tail trailing behind as he whipped his head back and forth with the song, "Do it! Take your mama out all night. So she'll have no doubt that we're doing oh the best we can." He felt a bit bolder now, and worked to get the bitter memories out. Big Mac reared up on his hind legs, a little wobbly as he continued bob his head while he thrust his forelegs in and out, one at a time with the beat. "We're gonna do it! Take your mama out all night. You can stay up late 'cause baby you're a full grown stud!"
He dropped down again as the song calmed down a touch. He walked in slow circles and bobbed his head, still smiling as the music carried on pleasantly for a few bars. He caught sight of another photo, one of his younger self, hard at work in the fields. He wore his signature yoke which was attached to a plow. The image had caught him in mid-pull, teeth bared as he tugged the heavy weight through the soil, "It's a struggle, living like a good boy oughta, in the summer, watchin' all the fillies pass by." He thought back to the many months that followed that awful night.
Big Mac and the rest of the family had gotten over most of their grief after a few weeks and got themselves back into their farm work routine. It was nearly harvest time again, and several of their cousins offered to help out, offers which were gladly accepted.
Big Mac had quickly grown and rapidly gained size and power due to his hard work. This made him one of the most eligible bachelors of Ponyville, much to his slight discomfort whenever he took a brief trip into town to sell apples. Many filly eyes fluttered his way as he easily towed the apple cart into town. Just as many offers and propositions were politely turned down, which were the cause of multiple pouty faces and the occasional tear filled eye.
"When your mama, heard the way that you'd been talking, I tried to tell you, that all she'd want to do is cry."
It became a routine over the many months. He would drag his cart into to town to sell apples while he fended off offers of dinner or dates. There were even a couple of brash requests for a little "heavy hoofing" behind a nearby building, which made the red stallion go even redder.
It was all a routine that he quickly got used to, until one day a particularly persistent young unicorn mare came along. She was a looker alright, he had to admit to himself. A pristine ivory coat, and a delicately curled, purple mane and tail. Cap that off with a cutie mark of three bright blue diamonds. It must have taken hours to look as immaculate as she did, he thought.
It started off normally. Batted eyelids, coy looks, and sweet words, quickly followed by a well mannered refusal and a return to business. She was not one to take no for an answer. She more and more obvious. She further exaggerated her mannerisms, even 'innocently' brushed her mane and tail against him multiple times. She practically hung off of him throughout most of the day. She got in the way, interrupted transactions with customers and was a general nuisance. His jaw tightened more and more as the day wore on while she wore on his nerves. He eventually tightened to the point that he finally bit through his piece of straw.
A loud snort of frustration followed by a heavy thud of his hoof was enough to break her out of her little lovesick trance and pay full attention to the angry young stallion. After several brief but harsh words, she had galloped away and tears fell freely. He grunted and nodded in satisfaction as he turned his attention back to his cart. The young mares that had floated nearby and hoped for a chance to try their luck had all disappeared. Funny enough, so had the potential customers. Any other ponies that were still nearby either avoided eye contact, or steered well clear. He stayed for a while longer and hoped to get another customer or two. He soon realized that no more would visit that day and finally gave up with a sigh. He packed up and worked his way back to the farm.
Word travels fast in a small community such as Ponyville. Big Mac had barely pulled the cart past the main gate of the farm before he was set upon by an angry Applejack. She berated him for being so nasty to the young mare, which caused him to stop and glare back at her. But it was how she reminded him of how their mother taught them better that caused him to lose the anger in his face and sit on his haunches. He thought of how disappointed she would be if she saw what he did. He hung his head in shame as several tears fell from his eyes and onto the dusty ground. Those tears were soon joined by Applejack's as she hugged him tightly. The red stallion squeezed her in return as the siblings shared those painful memories again.
Big Mac sniffled as he stood there in his room, that memory still in his mind. A couple days after that event he found and apologized to that young mare. She gracefully accepted his apology after he briefly told her his reasons for his behavior. They became polite acquaintances after that, and even became a little closer several years later as a result of the event that brought his sister close those five remarkable mares.
"Now we end up takin' the long way home, lookin' overdressed wearin' buckets of stale cologne." The words brought him back into the present. He chuckled again at another happy memory as he moved towards the big cardboard box.
He remembered, barely, the early morning walk him from his graduation celebration. He, his mother, and Granny had quite a few drinks that night and unsteadily walked home. They were gently herded along by young Applejack, who still carried Applebloom on her back. The little one was sound asleep after such a long and eventful day. "It's so hard to see streets on a country road, when your yoke is in the garbage and your apple cart has just been towed!" Luckily they had no reason to bring the apple cart along to the party, but Big Mac had indeed somehow lost his yoke during the festivities. Good thing they were cheap.
He looked down into the box where he saw the cloth covered bundle. The big moment had arrived. Eagerly, he dipped his muzzle down and gripped the cloth in his teeth and whipped his head straight up, sending the package into the air. It almost seemed to unravel in slow motion to his eyes as the chorus came on again.
"Gonna take your mama out all night, yeah we'll show her what it's all about..."
The cloth fell to the ground and revealed a small raggedy doll that seemed to hang forever in the air. It's a doll that may seem familiar to some ponies, a doll from a certain magical mishap that occurred several years ago. But it had been modified. The body had been dyed to a sunset orange color, the yarn that made up the hair had been replaced with white yard, and a small felt apple had been crudely stitched to the flanks of the doll.
Big Mac leapt up onto his hind legs again and caught the doll in his front hooves as he spun around to the song. Tears now flowed freely down his muzzle, but he still held a wide and happy smile on his face. He danced like he did with his mother and all the others that night.
"Do it! Take your mama out all night..."
He spun around the room as he danced, practically waltzed with the doll. He landed down on his hooves again as the song began to wind down and cradled the doll to his chest with a foreleg. He settled on his haunches as he held the doll on his hoof and gazed into its green button eyes and bent wire glasses. He slowly brought the doll up to his muzzle and kissed its forehead, then hugged it tightly to his chest, his head bowed down. He let a long sigh as the last few notes of the song played out.
There was only one other witness to this private ritual. One in the shape of a little yellow filly with a bright red bow in her mane. She managed to get a peek in from outside through the curtains which did not get fully closed. With a soft smile and a quiet little giggle, she wiped a tear from her eye, then turned to trotted away. A gentle breeze ruffled her mane, the sweet scent of apples carried with it. She looked up at the sky and trees and smiled happily as she quietly sang to herself.
"So she'll have no doubt that we're doin' oh the best we can..."
