Forcedby LeslichuChapters1. Friends of the Family2. You know what they say about first impressions...3. Filthy's Problem4. My name is....1. Friends of the Family"Now-" Filthy paused to take another drag of the cigarette hanging from his mouth, "you can have the next order of red delicious done by Tuesday?" Granny Smith shooed away a chicken that had busied itself at her hooves. "Like always Filthy, Macintosh'll meet your cargo-ponies that mornin'. But enough bout' all that now, would you and yer daughter care fer lunch?" Filthy smiled despite the repeated use of his first name. The old mare had a very special place in his heart, which was only natural as his grandfather had built his business with the Apple family's help. "I'd be delighted Granny." Filthy took the cigarette from his mouth with his hoof and turned to call to his daughter. "Diamond!" Diamond Tiara, the only daughter of the recently widowed Filthy Rich, was playing hopscotch alone when she heard her fathers call. She obediently jumped from the third square she had drawn in the dirt and trotted up to the tired looking stallion. "Yes daddy?" Diamond took extra care to be nice to her father these days. "Are you hungry sweetheart? Granny Smith has lunch cooked." Filthy bent down to nuzzle his daughter, taking care to keep the cigarette away from her. "No daddy, I'm still full from breakfast." Diamond returned the nuzzle in earnest. "All right. Go play with Apple Bloom and her friends then, I'll be inside if you need me." Filthy turned and walked back to his old friend, the touch of his daughter calming him and warranting a growl from his stomach. Diamond didn't argue. As much as she despised the Cutie Mark Losers, she knew better than to argue with her father right now. She hadn't seen him eat in days. Filthy Rich followed Granny up the steps of the porch and through the screen door to the kitchen, pausing only to snuff his cigarette in an old coffee can. The wooden floorboards, peeling wallpaper and assorted knickknacks were a welcome change to the dullness of his own home. Here the home smelled of old furniture and the lingering scents of food; in his house the immaculate white floors smelled of cleaning chemicals, new plastic, and air fresheners. He decided he much preferred the Apple family home to the loneliness of his own. "Take a seat dear, I'll whip ya up some of the cassaroule." Granny set about pulling a pan from the oven, where the dish was kept warm. Filthy eased himself into a chair, feeling his fatigue for the first time that day. "Thank you Granny, would you happen to have any coffee left?" Filthy rubbed at his eyes with a hoof, feeling a bit of crust scrape about in the corner of his left. "Just made a batch an hour ago, it's still warm if you want it," "Yes ma'am, I'd appreciate it." Filthy waited until Granny slid a plate in front of him where a particularly appetizing looking green bean casserole caused his stomach to growl again. Granny smiled sadly at the poor stallion, knowing full well he had forgotten to eat that day. "How are you Filthy?" The old mare asked softly. Filthy swallowed a bite of the casserole, his stomach instantly hushing as it attacked his first meal in two days. "I'm surviving Granny," he answered back with a sigh. He knew she knew he was lying. The proof was in the bags under his eyes. "You've never smoked before Filthy, neither did your father." Granny poured a cup of black coffee for her guest, adding just the touch of sugar she knew he liked. "My father never drank either," Filthy gave a long, tired sigh and ran a hoof through his mane. "And a stallion can't run on a bottle alone." Granny sat down in front of the stallion, a cup of sweetened coffee to compliment Filthy's held in her hoof. "It tastes worse than grandpa said it did." Filthy took another bite, all the while keeping his head low. Admitting he drank heavily was not something he thought he'd ever tell the mare. "It's not good fer yer kidneys, the Tarts could tell ya that much," Granny took a slow sip from her mug, careful not to scald her tongue on the hot sweetened liquid. "Yeah, my wife said that too when I went out to Baltimare a years back with an old friend." Filthy did his best to hide a grimace. "You should listen to her, she was a smart mare." It took a few seconds for a reaction to come out of the stallion, his mind seeming to stumble and hang at "was". Filthy forced a quick "yeah", managing to form the word without the choking sensation in his throat cutting it short. "Well yer' a grown stallion Filthy so I can't tell ya how ta live," Was. "And I'm sure yer pa would have told me the same thing, knowin' how stubborn he was," Was. "And I'm.....Filthy? Are ya alri-" Oh god. She "was". Filthy dropped his head further, desperately fighting against the wheezes and sobs his lungs begged for. The old mare, however, noticed the light reflecting from the tiny pearls running down the bridge of the stallions nose. Soon his lungs managed to push a crack into the stallion's resolve, his shoulders rising and falling with the rapid intake of air. "What am I going to do without her?" Filthy bit down on his hoof as she sobbed, his body shaking with his inhales. The old mare smiled sadly and rested a hoof over Filthy's, the same hoof that still held onto the fork like it could save his life. "She--was the one who c-c-" Filthy stopped talking altogether as a fresh wave of sobs took his breath away again, his emotions robbing him of his dignity. "It's alright dear, your take yer time." Granny Smith understood this pain quite well. There were three places at the table that her grandchildren had only recently been able to fill. Filthy's breathing eventually calmed as his head sunk down onto the table, his cries now quiet and even. Granny smoothed down his mane gently, her own motherly instincts kicking in to comfort the broken stallion she had come to see as a close friend. "....she was the one who convinced me to stay." Filthy wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his business coat, sniffing to keep his nose from running. "I wanted Diamond to be born in Manehattan. Give her more opportunities growing up. But....Penny." Filthy paused to rub his nose with his sleeve. "She said she wanted to stay in Ponyville. Bring up Diamond away from the city, where the air was cleaner. So I gave up trying to write and asked father if I could work for him." "You know Penny wouldn't wanna see ya this way Filthy. 'specially when you've come so far ," Filthy just sniffed and wiped his eyes harshly against his business jacket. "And I'm sure Diamond needs her daddy more than ever," "Ugh, Diamond Tiara why do ya always hafta be such a spoil-sport!?" Applebloom flung the blueprint Sweetie Belle had painstakingly mapped out in crayon. Diamond Tiara snagged it with her hoof and kicked it away in disgust. "What? I'm just saying this idea is dumb. Who ever heard of a Cutie Mark in tactical whoopy-cushion drops?" "What? It's like combining a spy movie with comedy! It'd be cool and funny at the same time!" Scootaloo reasoned, devastated that her idea wasn't considered absolute gold. "Pfft yeah maybe if your an immature lunkhead. I'm doing you blank flanks a favor, try something more realistic." "But we've tried durn' near everythin'! What else could we do ta get a Cutie Mark?" Applebloom sat heavily down in the grass on her haunches, the blueprint now sailing away in the summer breeze. "Hey wait a minute," Sweetie Belle trotted up to Diamond Tiara, stopping to balance on her front hooves to lean into the bully's face. "Why are you trying to help us today? Are you trying to make us do something silly?" Sweetie's stern gaze contracted as Diamond pushed her back with one hoof, sending the fillies weight back onto her rear legs. "Just because I don't like socializing with you losers doesn't mean I can't be charitable every now and again." Diamond's eyes darted back to the house for a second before they locked back sternly on the fillies in front of her. 'And maybe Daddy would feel better,' a small voice in her head spoke. "Well ya could at least make a suggestion instead a' just pickin' on everypony!" Applebloom flung a crayon at Diamond Tiara's hooves, silently wishing the spoiled filly would share at least a few secrets with them as to how a Cutie Mark could be obtained. "Welding pays a lot in certain places." Diamond said simply. She crossed her hooves and said nothing further to the Cutie Mark Crusader. Applebloom blinked. Welding. Practicality served up on a plate. "How much are we talking here?" Sweetie Belle asked in a rare show of business oriented thought. Diamond however hadn't the chance to answer as Sweetie was swiftly grabbed by the other two and dragged back towards the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Diamond heard a "thank you!" shouted in the distance from the dust cloud that was kicked up by the Crusaders. She rolled her eyes and checked her hooves for scuffs. 'Those three blank flanks probably haven't tried ANYTHING realistic since they had gotten together' she thought. Diamond might have considered feeling proud of her good deed had it not been so dirt simple. She simply didn't understand what was so wrong with being paid for one's talents. Perhaps it was her daddy's blood in her. She sighed, losing interest in the two hoofs that had been painstakingly polished to a sheen. A scuff or two wouldn't kill her she supposed, so instead of chasing after the fillies that were rapidly becoming a blur in the distance Diamond decided upon touring the crop fields. Autumn had been setting in and the Apple family had been busy harvesting what crops they could in preparation for winter. Dead leaves that had been particularly adventurous had flown far from their trees to land in the lush dirt of the carrot and cabbage patches. It was here that Diamond, having immersed herself in the rich scent of the earth and not paying attention, had happened across a large red stallion. She couldn't believe she had missed somepony of his size from the road, and in broad daylight to boot! Quickly ducking behind a bale of hay kept to the edges of the cabbage rows, she watched as the massive figure set about his work. From what she could tell from her pokey and scratchy hiding spot, the stallion in question was a good foot taller than her father. And her father was already quite the tall pony (or so her small frame would tell her in comparison) as it was. He wore a thick plow collar about his neck, which was currently bound to a rather rusty looking plow. The stallion dug his hooves into the dirt and lurched forward, veins jutting from his thick neck as the nose of the plow forced its way into the earth. His legs seemed to transform their shape as large muscles expressed themselves under the bright red fur. The plow, in turn, resembled almost a piece of driftwood in the ocean, the dirt parting smoothly around the nose as the stallion drug it onward. Diamond watching awe as the large stallion worked, having never actually seen manual labor performed before. Of course the old mare who brought her and Silver Spoon's lunches had mentioned once or twice that her husband hauled trains for a living, so she had some concept of the working class. However she was having a hard time believing that the stallion in front of her was dragging quite a weight through solid ground with what seemed to be the greatest of ease; the stallion hadn't once made a sound beyond chewing on the wheat stalk in his mouth. The filly settled down behind the bale to watch as the stallion pulled the plow several yards away and stopped. She scooted a bit farther back behind her hiding spot as the stallion shrugged off the plow collar and turned around. He had short locks of blonde for a mane that seemed to be wet with sweat, yet his face betrayed no fatigue he might have been feeling. In the sunlight she noticed his fur had a bit of a shine to it and seem ruffled in places, obviously having been subject to sweat from the labor. This stallion began a light trot, keeping his half lidded eyes unfocused. Diamond panicked as she realized the oblivious stallion was headed straight for her sanctuary, though perhaps not at an angle that he might see her. She watched as his oddly unfurred hooves drew closer and closer to the hay bale, before finally dropping back to huddle herself into a ball. A few seconds passed before she heard rustling sounds from above her, a sound that seemed not unlike the hot friction of a small rope being pulled untied. Then everything went silent for a few seconds; the only sound to grace Diamond's ears was what was perhaps a squirrel or a rabbit scampering about in the tall unkempt fields of grass beyond Sweet Apple Acres. "Ma'am?" 2. You know what they say about first impressions..."Little lady, you okay? Hey!" Diamond Tiara blinked a few times, trying to find focus after her mind had blanked out from the image in front of her. The pony was TALL. Astoundingly so now that he stood in front of her. Truth be told he would have been frightening, leaning down into her face as he was, had it not been for his bored and almost sleepy looking facial expression. Close up, the giant red pony smelled of fresh grains, the sweat that saturated his fur, and hints of something that reminded Diamond of trees and all things that grew upon the ground. "Uh...you one o' Applebloom's friends?" Diamond blinked again, this time in surprise as the name brought her back to her senses. Ugh. Applebloom. "Yeah...I guess." The red pony either didn't pick up on the sarcasm in Diamond's voice or he didn't care enough to question it. What he did notice was the tiara tucked neatly into Diamond's mane. "Are ya' here with Mister Rich?" Macintosh straightened his back a little with the question, careful to make a good impression on even the youngest member of the Rich family. Diamond fell into place with the question like the most brilliant of actors. "I'm here on business with my father." Diamond stood stiffly on her legs and adopted the poker face she always watched her dear Daddy slip on when dealing with business partners. "I'm here to quality test the apples we'll be buying." Macintosh opened his mouth to speak but he could not muster any words. The Rich family employed their members this young? "Uhm...isn't your father supposta...yunno?" Macintosh sat back on his haunches and lifted a hoof over his face. Sure it was unlikely that this filly was here to test the apples on her father's order, but that didn't change the effect her steely authoritative voice had on him. "Oh I'm sorry!" Diamond Tiara said in a mockingly cute voice, holding a hoof to her mouth. "I didn't realize I had such a problem with stuttering!" "...u-uh.." The red pony's mouth gaped open a bit. "My Daddy says stuttering can hinder employer-to-employee communication, so let me try again ok?" Diamond inhaled and fixed Macintosh with the cutest face she felt she could muster. "If you want money, get your flank in gear." Diamond smiled widely at the stunned stallion, who stuttered an answer back quickly. "Y-yes ma'am!" Macintosh hopped to his feet and power walked back out of the fields. "They're in tha barn....miss!" He quickly added the last word with a smile from over his shoulder. Diamond Tiara smirked at the naivity of the adult stallion, so easily manipulated by a firm voice and the threat of unpaid labor. The two didn't speak during the march to the centerpiece of Sweet Apple Acres. For every two strides from Macintosh Diamond made four or five, but was sure not to show her fatigue to the farm pony. Looking weak at this point wouldn't bode well for her little game. Macintosh took the latch to the barn door in his teeth and pulled. A single ray of sunshine snaked its way past Macintosh through the the door, where it decided to rest itself on a large barrel. From the opening in the top, the sunbeam reflected off the skins of the fresh apples. "Somepony has been busy." Diamond masked her awe at the sheer size of the barrel with the simple appreciative tone her father used. Macintosh let a small smile cross his lips as he poked his head inside the barn. "Got the first four barrels mahself ma'am." Macintosh said proudly, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. Four!? Diamond Tiara's brow raising broke her poker face. The barrels were HUGE. A full grown stallion with help might could handle one, maybe two of these barrels. Diamond Tiara shoved past the stallion's leg as she let herself into the Apple family's barn. Sure enough, there in the thin beams of light trickling from between the cracks in the boards that made up the walls stood six industrial sized barrels full of apples. Each one was roughly the height of Diamond's bedroom closet (which was spacious to begin with) with a width to match. "Well." Diamond turned back to smile at the stallion. "You gonna give me a boost?" "U-uh sure," Macintosh scrambled up to Diamond Tiara and kindly held his head down for her to climb upon his neck. The filly positioned her front hooves on the red stallion's head and swung her back legs over his neck. She smirked as she felt the sweat from the poor fellow's mane on the inside of her legs; her father's checks were made out to only the finest of laborers. Diamond's grip tightened about the muscular neck as she was lifted up from the group, her stomach making little flips as she adjusted to the new, unstable height. Fortunately Macintosh paid no heed to the ever tightening grip and waited for her to reach a hoof out to a rather fine looking fruit poking out just at the rim of the barrel. Diamond's hoof tipped the apple over the rim and into her grasp, where the apple made a healthy thunk. Macintosh lowered her slowly back down to the ground where she nearly tripped crawling back off of his neck. "You know your pay depends on this one apple right?" Diamond asked with a smirk. She waited for a response from Macintosh, but he simply gulped and sat with his back straight. She smoothed back her mane with her free hoof and casually took a bite from the delicate skin of the apple. "Yes Granny I should come visit more often, get my mind off of things." Filthy smiled a rather small smile, but a smile nonetheless. It looked rather out of place among the baggy eyes and dried tears on his fur, but the smile hung there stubbornly. "Well anytime you're in tha neighborhood Filthy, ya could use some fattenin' up." Granny poked at Filthy's stomach with an outstretched hoof and chuckled at Filthy's ticklish squirming before he scrambled away. "Diamond?" Filthy called out from the porch. He shielded his eyes with a hoof as he watched for his daughter. "Wasn't she runnin' with Applebloom?" Granny stepped up beside Filthy, a hoof coming to rest on the old wooden ledge of the porch. "I assume so." He said before he called for his daughter again, this time cupping a hoof about his mouth. Nothing moved in the fields surrounding the Apple family farm, save for Winona chasing what looked like a mouse. "I suppose she went followed the girls someplace-" "Hey Daddy!" A pink filly poked her head outside the doors of the barn, she shoved the door open to reveal Granny Smith's grandson standing aside the six barrels of apples. He had an odd expression on his face, like as if he had just relieved himself of a bad stomach ache. Diamond sprinted up to her father, nimbly jumping several of the porch steps to to stand just underneath her father. "Did you eat?" Diamond Tiara asked as if addressing a foal younger than herself. "Yeah, yeah I did sweetheart." Filthy gave the filly a tired smile and ran a hoof over her hair. "There is still some casserole left if you've gotten hungry." "Nope, this stallion let me eat one of the apples you're ordering." Diamond swept a hoof over to Macintosh, who's wheat stalk dropped from his mouth. "I-I thought-" Macintosh cut himself off as the smile crossed Filthy's face. "Did he now? Well that was very kind of you Macintosh." Filthy stepped down from the porch and reached out to shake the stallion's hoof. Macintosh sighed and reached forward to meet his employer. "It's no trouble sir, and it's jes Big Mac by the way." Macintosh sent a half-hearted smile down to the filly standing next to Filthy, who returned a rather toothy one of her own. "Well Diamond I think we ought to be going, don't you think?" Filthy stepped back from the present Apple family and looked down at his daughter. "Can we still go by the Carousel Boutique?" the filly's tail arched in excitement, eager to see the new sets of clothing she knew her father would not approve of but would buy for her anyway. Filthy sighed and rolled his eyes up, abandoning hope that his daughter had forgotten all about those particularly lacy garments they had seen just yesterday. "I suppose, but you had better be on your best behavior there." "Aren't I always?" Diamond trotted down the dirt road leading out of Sweet Apple Acres. Filthy nodded apologetically to Granny and smiled, turning to follow his daughter down the long dirt road. Big Macintosh sighed and spat out his wheat stalk, suddenly feeling quite thirsty now that the filthy had left his presence. Thirsty for something particularly alcoholic. "Oh and Big Mac!?" The filly shouted back at him. Macintosh turned to see the filly wagging her tail at him. "Thanks for the taste test!" And with that the filly ran back to her now chuckling father. Macintosh snorted and marched past Granny, into the house and straight into the wine cellar. 3. Filthy's Problem".......you should have seen him, big dumb -and- gullible." Diamond Tiara giggled and tipped a plastic teapot over an empty coffee mug. The imaginary steam rolled up under the chin of her favorite doll, Molly, and up and around her long bunny ears. "Of course I messed with him! I had him saying 'yes ma'am'." Diamond Tiara answered one of Molly numerous silent questions. "Well yeah he was cute, but I wouldn't bank on him having much in the brains department." Diamond giggled at her own imagination. "Daddy says I don't have to marry for money, but I can't marry a lunkhead." Diamond's little game of tea went on well into the night, making her blissfully oblivious to her own bedtime. Thank goodness it was the weekend, or the desk in the second row of Ms. Cheerilee's classroom would have been little more than a very uncomfortable mattress come morning. Unbeknownst to the filly, her curious game of imaginary socializing being as engrossing as it was, her father slunk down the white carpeted hallways towards his study. His breath reeked of the whiskey he had been pouring down his throat since he had awoken from his short, restless nap in the cushions of his home theater. He had awoken to the bright blues of his flat screen's idle animation, the light managing to tickle his eyeballs through the veil of their lids. Filthy rolled himself off of the sofa and walked out of the room, not bothering to switch off the electronics on his way out. Outside in the immaculate hallway of the Filthy estate, no maids were present nor butlers to ask him if he was hungry; Filthy had offered the house-care staff a paid vacation in order for proper grieving with his daughter. The silence struck him harshly, more so than the glaring sterile white of the walls and carpet. His hoofs barely even made a sound as he whisked himself away to the parlor, an urgency rooted in the newly acquired monophobia giving a panicked speed to his hoofs. Thoughts of his wife were rushing back. Red soaked through her clothes as he drug her up out of the street. Filthy's shaking hooves turned the knob of his study door, a room filled with bits and bobs of fiction, charters, trade regulations, the occasional naughty magazine, and of course the halfway drained bottle of whiskey hidden just behind the first bookshelf. He slid open the first drawer in his desk, viciously rooting about for the shot glass he knew was there. Filthy eventually grew tired of the search, concluding that perhaps a maid had taken it to the kitchen to be washed, and hefted the bottle out of it's hiding place. After crashing down roughly in a chair in front of his desk, Filthy spent the next hour of wakefulness pushing himself further and further into a drunken haze. Soon he had forgotten the pained expression on Penny's face, not remembering her last agonized moments. But rather, he simply remembered that he missed her. "You know Filthy, you oughta stay here. You don't wanna swing hammers for a living son." Filthy didn't open his eyes, he just answered back while rubbing a temple with his hoof. "It's not like I'm going empty-hooved Dad, I've got a publisher interested in my idea." "And then what? You write a string of best-seller's while trying to raise a foal in a single-bedroom?" "That's the plan, until I can afford a bigger apartment." Filthy answered back calmly, despite his bottom hoof tapping impatiently against the wooden floor. "So let me get this straight, you're gonna write books all day long and only have a fifty-fifty chance of getting them published while your marefriend supports you and the baby by working at the piggly-wiggly?" "That's not how it's gonna be!" Filthy's eyes snapped open with the intensity of his shout. And there was his father. Clear as day, lighting a cigar in the brown leather armchair behind his desk. "I thought you told me you quit?" Filthy slumped further down into his chair, the empty bottle of whiskey resting under one hoof in his lap. His father exhaled the sweet smelling smoke out of his nostrils. "No I'm just a good actor. Can't have anyone but my replacement knowing about these habits." "Dad I don't wanna run the business. I told you, I'm leaving with Penny next week." "Yeah I heard you the first time Filthy." His father took another puff, holding the smoke in for a few seconds while he riffled through a stack of papers on his desk. "It's not like I need you to take over Filthy. There's plenty of stallions working in the marketing division right now doing good work," Filthy watched with intrigue as each word was accented by a wisp of smoke, each smokey tail seeming to hang onto vowels. "There's a few mares too, but you know how they can be." "What's that supposed to mean?" Filthy asked, rubbed his brow and stirred the last remaining drops in his bottle. "Well...I guess you're old enough to know that you old man gets a lot of attention from the younger mares. Especially now that I'm thinking of retiring. It'd be nice if they'd stop throwing themselves on my desk when your mother isn't here though." "Dad. Don't tell me--" "No, no, son I'm much too old to be fooling around behind your mother's back anymore." His father shook his head, jostling his tidy mane as he took another deep inhale. "Look, Dad I don't want to argue about this again. I can do this, and Penny isn't helpless." "Oh I know she isn't helpless. Pincher's rarely are, assuming the apple didn't fall far from the tree. But she IS pregnant Filthy. And much too early if you want my honest opinion. "I don't." "Well be that as it may, why not just spend a few more years here until you save up enough money for a nice little fixer-upper instead of those dingy apartments." His father set the cigar down and folded his hooves on the desk. "Dad...I'd just rather the baby grow up normal. Have a normal name for fuck's sake." Filthy expected his father to cross the room and slap him, but nothing came. "So poverty is normal to you. To my son." The old stallion raised his brow. "And what if it is? You think I like the idea of putting ponies out of business?" Filthy spread his front hooves wide, the liquid in his bottle making hollow splashes against the thick glass. "I hired each one of those ponies I put out of business." The old stallion thumped his hoof against the desk with "each" and "one". "But not before they lost their lives' savings pouring their ambitions into a waste paper basket." At this point Filthy had leaned forward for his wording between his bared teeth to be heard, hoping his father felt every bit of contempt he had inside of him. "And how did this affect you hmm? Those new toys and games too good for you?" His father was bordering upon hysterics, throwing his hooves up as he lost his normally vast amount of patience. "The ponies at school sure thought so." "And here we are Filthy." His father spoke as if he had just solved the million dollar question. "This is all about your boo-hoo-ing about how you didn't have any friends at school. How your only friend was the daughter of an employee I hired out of pity." Filthy stood and slung the bottle as hard as he could, hoping this time it would collide with his father rather than the wall as it did so many years ago. He barely registered the breaking glass against the bookshelf beyond the liquid that had just splashed against his copy of "The City Beneath the Sea". His breathing had reached the point where his body shook, the needless adrenaline coursing through his veins like a sick drug and making him feel the need to vomit in his current state of inebriation. But his father had gone. That night had already been lived. And here he was. Almost a decade later in the very place he swore he would never be. Only this time, he was alone. "Daddy." As if on cue, a scared but determined voice sounded from behind him. Filthy turned with some drunken difficulty to the door to see his daughter. She was sitting back on her haunches with her jaw set stiff, trying her best to look stern although her eyes had welled up. "You need to go to sleep." She said simply, holding a hoof out for Filthy to take. He didn't say a word as he crossed the room toward her. It was as if the filly had spoken a magic word that existed in her storybooks, her guidance seeming to be unquestionable and her logic the finest. He followed the filly like a catatonic patient, allowing her to lead him to the bathroom and all. They walked together down the now haunting white hallways towards the upstairs living room. Even now in the dead of night it seemed cosy with its myriad of paperback novels and soft sofas. Diamond led Filthy toward one just near the cold fireplace, and pushed him into a comfortable position on it. Filthy watched wordlessly as Diamond crawled onto the sofa next to him, keeping a fair amount of space before Filthy put his hoof around her. He pulled the filly close and leaned his head into her stomach, where he took a deep reassuring breath from her fur. Be it the dim lights and the comfortable rise and fall of his daughters stomach, or the weight of the alcohol in his own, Filthy fell into a rather deep sleep. That night he did not awaken from the dreams of his wife. 4. My name is...."So how'd you like not getting fired the other day?" Diamond rested her hooves under her chin as she watched the red pony wrestle with the pitchfork in his teeth, only for him to drop it with a sigh. "Very funny." Macintosh chose not to look at the little filly as he crossed the barn. Late afternoon sunlight shown just between the wooden board walls of the barn, a thin stream of light resting upon a sack of sunflower seeds. Macintosh ducked his head into it, filling one side of his mouth before he returned to work. "Ooo is that grouchiness I'm hearing" Diamond pushed herself up from the grain sack she was laying on in order to rest her front hooves on her hips. "What're ya doin' here anyway?" Macintosh said around his mouth full of seeds, taking care not to spit as he addressed the filly. Diamond settled back down on the grain sacks with a small smirk on her face. "I came to play to with Applebloom." she said as she crossed her back legs, her fronts resting under her chin again. "An' why exactly did ya not leave with her to Scootaloo's?" Macintosh paused his rummaging through the toolbox he had picked up. It had seemed he had misplaced several flathead screwdrivers. "Cause I've already got my Cutie Mark, therefore I wouldn't need to go with them to try weightlifting." She paused and inspected the scuffed corner of one hoof. "I doubt Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo will keep up with Applebloom though." "Pickin' favorites?" Where exactly did the brand new screw boxes go? "Pssh...it's called biology." Diamond Tiara asked back, buffing the scuff out against her chest fur. "Scootaloo don't seem tough to ya?" He made a mental note to pick up more lumber from town later, the stock in the barn was awfully low. Diamond dropped the hoof she was polishing and emphasized her reply by starting it off with a scoff. "Does Rainbow Dash seem very tough to you?" Macintosh spit a number of empty seeds out through the barn door and answered without looking at the filly. "Seems like a lot o' hot air to me." "Exactly. I feel like puking every time she talks about 'saving Ponyville from evil!'." She deepened her voice a bit in her best imitation of the resident Element of Harmony, even going as far as flapping her hooves in placement of the mare's wings. "An' that's how you see Scootaloo?" The stallion tried not to picture Scootaloo, her tiny wings buzzing about, "saving the day" and bragging about it to anypony that would listen. "That's how I call it." The filly answered with a nod. "You almost done in here by the way? I'm bored." "Not sure why ya came in here in tha first place." Macintosh smirked as the filly jumped up, an expression on her face like somepony had told her she was tubby. "Well EXCUSE me! I'm just trying to be nice and talk to a pony that spends all his time in an hayfield." The filly jumped down from her grain sacks and stood waiting for a response from Macintosh. "Well?" She asked, after no sound but the clinking of nails met her question. "Well what?" The stallion asked, again not bothering to look at her as he rooted through his toolboxes again. "...You're not as fun as Applebloom." She marched up to Macintosh before he could question her statement and held out her hoof. "My name is Diamond Tiara by the way, I don't think I introduced myself the other day." Macintosh fidgeted with the seeds in his mouth before he held out a hoof to shake the filly's. She had a weak shake, but it was a good try for a filly of her age. "Macintosh Apple. Um...Big Mac, fer short." "Mhm. Big Macintosh." She said with a wry smile. "Yeah I know." Macintosh replied with a sigh, the gimmick of his name having lost its charm many many years ago. He took his hoof back with a small smile, perhaps now thinking a bit more highly of the filly who had pulled a fast one on him only days before. "Ya plan on getting out of this barn anytime soon though?" Diamond kicked at the dirt floor, now not caring that she was probably scuffing her hooves again. "Suppose I could have a bite ta eat. I'm supposin' you wanna come too?" "About time don't you think?" She led the way through the barn doors into the late afternoon sun. It was rapidly sinking on the horizon, painting shadows here and there along the fence-line. An hour ago, when Diamond had first walked into the barn, the heat had been doing its best to slow her trot. Now it seemed to caress her muscles and tickle the fur with occasional breezes. "You don't talk much do you?" Diamond asked the towering figure next to her. He spit the remaining seeds out into the tall grass near the fence and shook his head. "Nope." Diamond cocked a smile and trotted faster to keep up with the slow yet large strides the stallion was taking. "I wish I had more friends like that." She said simply, not actually expecting Macintosh to reply. And of course the pony did not, but rather simply smiled. The two were met with supple aromas wafting about when they entered the Apple family home. Granny Smith had apparently just prepared dinner for her grandchildren, two hungry from working the farm and another from what had probably turned out to be a life or death situation. Typical Applebloom. "Granny ya mind settin' up for one more? Ms. Diamond's gonna be joinin' us." Big Macintosh motioned for Diamond to join Granny in the kitchen. "And whatta about you? Yer lookin' a bit thin lately Macintosh Apple." Granny shook her ladle at him, one end slick with soup broth. "Gonna bathe first." Macintosh motioned with his neck towards the stairs. Indeed, accumulated mud and sweat didn't seem very comfortable to wear needlessly. "Well, come on young un', let's get ya fed. Where's yer pa by the way?" the old mare asked, leaning upon the stove where a pot of vegetable soup sat in wait. "He's at home. He was sick this morning when I woke him up." Her Daddy had indeed fell ill that morning, as evidenced by the gagging and chokes she had heard beyond the bathroom door. Granny sighed as she ladled out the thick soup. The poor stallion seemed like he had been doing better by the end of his last visit, but she was no fool. "How bout' I just put some for you an' your pa in somethin' ta carry home?" Granny asked, already reaching for a large plastic container on the dish shelf above the sink. "Well...he probably did forget to eat again." Diamond, having already pulled a chair back at the kitchen table to sit in, pushed it back in politely with the top of her head. "Macintoooosh? Macintosh Apple!" Granny did not wait between her fussy calls for the stallion to answer back. There was a commotion heard just above the kitchen, on the second floor where Macintosh's room was. A few seconds later found the pony trudging back down the stairs with a towel slung about his neck where his plow collar had previously been. "Granny?" He asked, standing just on the last stair in case he was allowed to return to his business. "Walk this young un' home," Granny hobbled over to Macintosh, carrying the nearly the thick vegetable soup in a red topped plastic container, "and be careful not ta spill this on yer way. It's for Filthy and the lil' missus." Macintosh sighed and rubbed a hoof over his eyes. The bathwater that was waiting for him would surely be cold once he returned, and he simply didn't have it in him to waste the water by draining it. Slinging his towel over the railing of the stairs, Macintosh descended the rest of the stairs. As Granny balanced the container on the lower portion of his back he nearly asked where Applejack was and if by chance she was not busy. But, with a glance at the filly in the kitchen, he supposed that Diamond was no more AJ's responsibility than she was his. "Alrighty then Miss Diamond, tell your pa I said hi." "Mhm." Diamond nodded at the elderly mare as she went to sit down in her rocker, forgetting entirely that she had been preparing dinner for her grandson and her soon to be arriving granddaughters. Big Macintosh held the screen door open for the filly as she pranced out into the rapidly dying sunlight. Crickets and all sorts of insect life were already chirping loudly in the tall grasses of Sweet Apple Acres (thank goodness Twilight had figured out a way to implement magic to replace pesticides). A slight breeze had picked up, a welcome change from the heat of the day. The two made their way down from the porch and onto the dirt road back to Ponyville. Aside from the drone of the insects, no sounds were exchanged. The two simply walked casually away down the road, Diamond every once in a while sneaking peeks at the stallion next to her. "You look weird without that collar thing." Diamond said suddenly, her voice breaking through the white noise of the insect chirps. "How?" Macintosh said with his usual bored voice, although he was actually a bit curious. "Ya look lopsided." She said simply. Her eyes darted away from Macintosh and back again as the silence went on, like he was expecting more of an answer. "That's it." Big Macintosh scratched at his neck with the back of a hoof, suddenly feeling quite naked on the dirt road. He didn't usually think much of what other ponies thought of his appearance, but his collar was quite nearly a second skin. And for a filly to point it out, somepony he couldn't truly argue with.... "It's too hot to be wearin' it anyway." Macintosh said, hoping she'd drop the subject. "It's always too hot here. Ponyville weather is the pits." She grumbled back darkly. "Ya like it cold?" "I like the weather being NORMAL. The weather team here is always doing something stupid." Diamond paused and added with a frown, "But then I guess that IS normal here." "What do ya mean? Ya don't like Ponyville?" He looked down at her this time, watching the frown deepen just a bit. "Don't even get me started." She said, and even though Macintosh said nothing in response, she "started" anyway. "School is lame, the ponies there are stupid, except Silver Spoon of course, there's no place any good to shop, everypony can't keep themselves out of MY business." She adjusted her tiara with a hoof as she went on, trying to keep her voice cool about the content. "I just wish I was in Canterlot. At least there would be something to do everyday." Macintosh thought about this for a moment. What WAS there to do for fun? Well there was Sugarcube Corner of course, what with Pinkie Pie there. That was one thing, but past that Macintosh found himself racking his brain for an answer. Ponyville simply wasn't that interesting of a place when it wasn't being attacked by a giant monster of some sort, which actually wasn't all that exciting as it was traumatic. "Uuuuhhh what about Applebloom and her friends? Ya gettin' along with em'? Ya should bring round that Silver Spoon pony." "Yeah..." Diamond huffed and replied in a voice barely higher than a whisper. Had Silver Spoon not been busy with her (pointless) piano lessons, her and Diamond would probably be eating ice cream in her room right now. She already had some serious damage control coming her way when Silver found out she'd been giving the Cutie Mark losers ideas. "I'll talk ta Applebloom later. I imagine ya lied ta cover up for those three ditchin' ya." Diamond's brow raised and she turned to look at Macintosh's thoughtful expression. "I don't really care--" "No Miss Diamond I'm thinkin' I understand right well what's goin' on. I know Granny told her ta be nicer to ya--well ...yeah." Macintosh trailed off, realizing his mistake. He snuck a glance at the filly, hoping she didn't realize the Apple family pitied her. Pitied her loss. Thankfully, she didn't retaliate at Macintosh's words. But she understood what Macintosh meant, evident my her firmly closed jaw and her eyes that trailed the rocks and gravel at her hooves. "I didn't mean ta..." Macintosh began softly. "No, it's fine." Diamond quickly cut him off and raised her head with a curt sniff. "I just try not to think about it." Macintosh was not naive enough to believe that though, but he did have to commend her performance as an actor. Her father, perhaps because of his business savvy nature, had taught her how to make a lie believable. "Well...I mean uh...you're more n' welcome ta talk to me, if ya need to." Macintosh kept his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. In his mind, doing so made him feel less awkward about the sincere offer to the filly. "Yeah well don't bank on it," Diamond said, but added a few seconds later, "thank you though." "Mhm." The stallion nodded and remained silent as they reached the main streets of Ponyville, where several ponies were locking up for the evening.
1. Friends of the Family"Now-" Filthy paused to take another drag of the cigarette hanging from his mouth, "you can have the next order of red delicious done by Tuesday?" Granny Smith shooed away a chicken that had busied itself at her hooves. "Like always Filthy, Macintosh'll meet your cargo-ponies that mornin'. But enough bout' all that now, would you and yer daughter care fer lunch?" Filthy smiled despite the repeated use of his first name. The old mare had a very special place in his heart, which was only natural as his grandfather had built his business with the Apple family's help. "I'd be delighted Granny." Filthy took the cigarette from his mouth with his hoof and turned to call to his daughter. "Diamond!" Diamond Tiara, the only daughter of the recently widowed Filthy Rich, was playing hopscotch alone when she heard her fathers call. She obediently jumped from the third square she had drawn in the dirt and trotted up to the tired looking stallion. "Yes daddy?" Diamond took extra care to be nice to her father these days. "Are you hungry sweetheart? Granny Smith has lunch cooked." Filthy bent down to nuzzle his daughter, taking care to keep the cigarette away from her. "No daddy, I'm still full from breakfast." Diamond returned the nuzzle in earnest. "All right. Go play with Apple Bloom and her friends then, I'll be inside if you need me." Filthy turned and walked back to his old friend, the touch of his daughter calming him and warranting a growl from his stomach. Diamond didn't argue. As much as she despised the Cutie Mark Losers, she knew better than to argue with her father right now. She hadn't seen him eat in days. Filthy Rich followed Granny up the steps of the porch and through the screen door to the kitchen, pausing only to snuff his cigarette in an old coffee can. The wooden floorboards, peeling wallpaper and assorted knickknacks were a welcome change to the dullness of his own home. Here the home smelled of old furniture and the lingering scents of food; in his house the immaculate white floors smelled of cleaning chemicals, new plastic, and air fresheners. He decided he much preferred the Apple family home to the loneliness of his own. "Take a seat dear, I'll whip ya up some of the cassaroule." Granny set about pulling a pan from the oven, where the dish was kept warm. Filthy eased himself into a chair, feeling his fatigue for the first time that day. "Thank you Granny, would you happen to have any coffee left?" Filthy rubbed at his eyes with a hoof, feeling a bit of crust scrape about in the corner of his left. "Just made a batch an hour ago, it's still warm if you want it," "Yes ma'am, I'd appreciate it." Filthy waited until Granny slid a plate in front of him where a particularly appetizing looking green bean casserole caused his stomach to growl again. Granny smiled sadly at the poor stallion, knowing full well he had forgotten to eat that day. "How are you Filthy?" The old mare asked softly. Filthy swallowed a bite of the casserole, his stomach instantly hushing as it attacked his first meal in two days. "I'm surviving Granny," he answered back with a sigh. He knew she knew he was lying. The proof was in the bags under his eyes. "You've never smoked before Filthy, neither did your father." Granny poured a cup of black coffee for her guest, adding just the touch of sugar she knew he liked. "My father never drank either," Filthy gave a long, tired sigh and ran a hoof through his mane. "And a stallion can't run on a bottle alone." Granny sat down in front of the stallion, a cup of sweetened coffee to compliment Filthy's held in her hoof. "It tastes worse than grandpa said it did." Filthy took another bite, all the while keeping his head low. Admitting he drank heavily was not something he thought he'd ever tell the mare. "It's not good fer yer kidneys, the Tarts could tell ya that much," Granny took a slow sip from her mug, careful not to scald her tongue on the hot sweetened liquid. "Yeah, my wife said that too when I went out to Baltimare a years back with an old friend." Filthy did his best to hide a grimace. "You should listen to her, she was a smart mare." It took a few seconds for a reaction to come out of the stallion, his mind seeming to stumble and hang at "was". Filthy forced a quick "yeah", managing to form the word without the choking sensation in his throat cutting it short. "Well yer' a grown stallion Filthy so I can't tell ya how ta live," Was. "And I'm sure yer pa would have told me the same thing, knowin' how stubborn he was," Was. "And I'm.....Filthy? Are ya alri-" Oh god. She "was". Filthy dropped his head further, desperately fighting against the wheezes and sobs his lungs begged for. The old mare, however, noticed the light reflecting from the tiny pearls running down the bridge of the stallions nose. Soon his lungs managed to push a crack into the stallion's resolve, his shoulders rising and falling with the rapid intake of air. "What am I going to do without her?" Filthy bit down on his hoof as she sobbed, his body shaking with his inhales. The old mare smiled sadly and rested a hoof over Filthy's, the same hoof that still held onto the fork like it could save his life. "She--was the one who c-c-" Filthy stopped talking altogether as a fresh wave of sobs took his breath away again, his emotions robbing him of his dignity. "It's alright dear, your take yer time." Granny Smith understood this pain quite well. There were three places at the table that her grandchildren had only recently been able to fill. Filthy's breathing eventually calmed as his head sunk down onto the table, his cries now quiet and even. Granny smoothed down his mane gently, her own motherly instincts kicking in to comfort the broken stallion she had come to see as a close friend. "....she was the one who convinced me to stay." Filthy wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his business coat, sniffing to keep his nose from running. "I wanted Diamond to be born in Manehattan. Give her more opportunities growing up. But....Penny." Filthy paused to rub his nose with his sleeve. "She said she wanted to stay in Ponyville. Bring up Diamond away from the city, where the air was cleaner. So I gave up trying to write and asked father if I could work for him." "You know Penny wouldn't wanna see ya this way Filthy. 'specially when you've come so far ," Filthy just sniffed and wiped his eyes harshly against his business jacket. "And I'm sure Diamond needs her daddy more than ever," "Ugh, Diamond Tiara why do ya always hafta be such a spoil-sport!?" Applebloom flung the blueprint Sweetie Belle had painstakingly mapped out in crayon. Diamond Tiara snagged it with her hoof and kicked it away in disgust. "What? I'm just saying this idea is dumb. Who ever heard of a Cutie Mark in tactical whoopy-cushion drops?" "What? It's like combining a spy movie with comedy! It'd be cool and funny at the same time!" Scootaloo reasoned, devastated that her idea wasn't considered absolute gold. "Pfft yeah maybe if your an immature lunkhead. I'm doing you blank flanks a favor, try something more realistic." "But we've tried durn' near everythin'! What else could we do ta get a Cutie Mark?" Applebloom sat heavily down in the grass on her haunches, the blueprint now sailing away in the summer breeze. "Hey wait a minute," Sweetie Belle trotted up to Diamond Tiara, stopping to balance on her front hooves to lean into the bully's face. "Why are you trying to help us today? Are you trying to make us do something silly?" Sweetie's stern gaze contracted as Diamond pushed her back with one hoof, sending the fillies weight back onto her rear legs. "Just because I don't like socializing with you losers doesn't mean I can't be charitable every now and again." Diamond's eyes darted back to the house for a second before they locked back sternly on the fillies in front of her. 'And maybe Daddy would feel better,' a small voice in her head spoke. "Well ya could at least make a suggestion instead a' just pickin' on everypony!" Applebloom flung a crayon at Diamond Tiara's hooves, silently wishing the spoiled filly would share at least a few secrets with them as to how a Cutie Mark could be obtained. "Welding pays a lot in certain places." Diamond said simply. She crossed her hooves and said nothing further to the Cutie Mark Crusader. Applebloom blinked. Welding. Practicality served up on a plate. "How much are we talking here?" Sweetie Belle asked in a rare show of business oriented thought. Diamond however hadn't the chance to answer as Sweetie was swiftly grabbed by the other two and dragged back towards the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Diamond heard a "thank you!" shouted in the distance from the dust cloud that was kicked up by the Crusaders. She rolled her eyes and checked her hooves for scuffs. 'Those three blank flanks probably haven't tried ANYTHING realistic since they had gotten together' she thought. Diamond might have considered feeling proud of her good deed had it not been so dirt simple. She simply didn't understand what was so wrong with being paid for one's talents. Perhaps it was her daddy's blood in her. She sighed, losing interest in the two hoofs that had been painstakingly polished to a sheen. A scuff or two wouldn't kill her she supposed, so instead of chasing after the fillies that were rapidly becoming a blur in the distance Diamond decided upon touring the crop fields. Autumn had been setting in and the Apple family had been busy harvesting what crops they could in preparation for winter. Dead leaves that had been particularly adventurous had flown far from their trees to land in the lush dirt of the carrot and cabbage patches. It was here that Diamond, having immersed herself in the rich scent of the earth and not paying attention, had happened across a large red stallion. She couldn't believe she had missed somepony of his size from the road, and in broad daylight to boot! Quickly ducking behind a bale of hay kept to the edges of the cabbage rows, she watched as the massive figure set about his work. From what she could tell from her pokey and scratchy hiding spot, the stallion in question was a good foot taller than her father. And her father was already quite the tall pony (or so her small frame would tell her in comparison) as it was. He wore a thick plow collar about his neck, which was currently bound to a rather rusty looking plow. The stallion dug his hooves into the dirt and lurched forward, veins jutting from his thick neck as the nose of the plow forced its way into the earth. His legs seemed to transform their shape as large muscles expressed themselves under the bright red fur. The plow, in turn, resembled almost a piece of driftwood in the ocean, the dirt parting smoothly around the nose as the stallion drug it onward. Diamond watching awe as the large stallion worked, having never actually seen manual labor performed before. Of course the old mare who brought her and Silver Spoon's lunches had mentioned once or twice that her husband hauled trains for a living, so she had some concept of the working class. However she was having a hard time believing that the stallion in front of her was dragging quite a weight through solid ground with what seemed to be the greatest of ease; the stallion hadn't once made a sound beyond chewing on the wheat stalk in his mouth. The filly settled down behind the bale to watch as the stallion pulled the plow several yards away and stopped. She scooted a bit farther back behind her hiding spot as the stallion shrugged off the plow collar and turned around. He had short locks of blonde for a mane that seemed to be wet with sweat, yet his face betrayed no fatigue he might have been feeling. In the sunlight she noticed his fur had a bit of a shine to it and seem ruffled in places, obviously having been subject to sweat from the labor. This stallion began a light trot, keeping his half lidded eyes unfocused. Diamond panicked as she realized the oblivious stallion was headed straight for her sanctuary, though perhaps not at an angle that he might see her. She watched as his oddly unfurred hooves drew closer and closer to the hay bale, before finally dropping back to huddle herself into a ball. A few seconds passed before she heard rustling sounds from above her, a sound that seemed not unlike the hot friction of a small rope being pulled untied. Then everything went silent for a few seconds; the only sound to grace Diamond's ears was what was perhaps a squirrel or a rabbit scampering about in the tall unkempt fields of grass beyond Sweet Apple Acres. "Ma'am?"
2. You know what they say about first impressions..."Little lady, you okay? Hey!" Diamond Tiara blinked a few times, trying to find focus after her mind had blanked out from the image in front of her. The pony was TALL. Astoundingly so now that he stood in front of her. Truth be told he would have been frightening, leaning down into her face as he was, had it not been for his bored and almost sleepy looking facial expression. Close up, the giant red pony smelled of fresh grains, the sweat that saturated his fur, and hints of something that reminded Diamond of trees and all things that grew upon the ground. "Uh...you one o' Applebloom's friends?" Diamond blinked again, this time in surprise as the name brought her back to her senses. Ugh. Applebloom. "Yeah...I guess." The red pony either didn't pick up on the sarcasm in Diamond's voice or he didn't care enough to question it. What he did notice was the tiara tucked neatly into Diamond's mane. "Are ya' here with Mister Rich?" Macintosh straightened his back a little with the question, careful to make a good impression on even the youngest member of the Rich family. Diamond fell into place with the question like the most brilliant of actors. "I'm here on business with my father." Diamond stood stiffly on her legs and adopted the poker face she always watched her dear Daddy slip on when dealing with business partners. "I'm here to quality test the apples we'll be buying." Macintosh opened his mouth to speak but he could not muster any words. The Rich family employed their members this young? "Uhm...isn't your father supposta...yunno?" Macintosh sat back on his haunches and lifted a hoof over his face. Sure it was unlikely that this filly was here to test the apples on her father's order, but that didn't change the effect her steely authoritative voice had on him. "Oh I'm sorry!" Diamond Tiara said in a mockingly cute voice, holding a hoof to her mouth. "I didn't realize I had such a problem with stuttering!" "...u-uh.." The red pony's mouth gaped open a bit. "My Daddy says stuttering can hinder employer-to-employee communication, so let me try again ok?" Diamond inhaled and fixed Macintosh with the cutest face she felt she could muster. "If you want money, get your flank in gear." Diamond smiled widely at the stunned stallion, who stuttered an answer back quickly. "Y-yes ma'am!" Macintosh hopped to his feet and power walked back out of the fields. "They're in tha barn....miss!" He quickly added the last word with a smile from over his shoulder. Diamond Tiara smirked at the naivity of the adult stallion, so easily manipulated by a firm voice and the threat of unpaid labor. The two didn't speak during the march to the centerpiece of Sweet Apple Acres. For every two strides from Macintosh Diamond made four or five, but was sure not to show her fatigue to the farm pony. Looking weak at this point wouldn't bode well for her little game. Macintosh took the latch to the barn door in his teeth and pulled. A single ray of sunshine snaked its way past Macintosh through the the door, where it decided to rest itself on a large barrel. From the opening in the top, the sunbeam reflected off the skins of the fresh apples. "Somepony has been busy." Diamond masked her awe at the sheer size of the barrel with the simple appreciative tone her father used. Macintosh let a small smile cross his lips as he poked his head inside the barn. "Got the first four barrels mahself ma'am." Macintosh said proudly, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. Four!? Diamond Tiara's brow raising broke her poker face. The barrels were HUGE. A full grown stallion with help might could handle one, maybe two of these barrels. Diamond Tiara shoved past the stallion's leg as she let herself into the Apple family's barn. Sure enough, there in the thin beams of light trickling from between the cracks in the boards that made up the walls stood six industrial sized barrels full of apples. Each one was roughly the height of Diamond's bedroom closet (which was spacious to begin with) with a width to match. "Well." Diamond turned back to smile at the stallion. "You gonna give me a boost?" "U-uh sure," Macintosh scrambled up to Diamond Tiara and kindly held his head down for her to climb upon his neck. The filly positioned her front hooves on the red stallion's head and swung her back legs over his neck. She smirked as she felt the sweat from the poor fellow's mane on the inside of her legs; her father's checks were made out to only the finest of laborers. Diamond's grip tightened about the muscular neck as she was lifted up from the group, her stomach making little flips as she adjusted to the new, unstable height. Fortunately Macintosh paid no heed to the ever tightening grip and waited for her to reach a hoof out to a rather fine looking fruit poking out just at the rim of the barrel. Diamond's hoof tipped the apple over the rim and into her grasp, where the apple made a healthy thunk. Macintosh lowered her slowly back down to the ground where she nearly tripped crawling back off of his neck. "You know your pay depends on this one apple right?" Diamond asked with a smirk. She waited for a response from Macintosh, but he simply gulped and sat with his back straight. She smoothed back her mane with her free hoof and casually took a bite from the delicate skin of the apple. "Yes Granny I should come visit more often, get my mind off of things." Filthy smiled a rather small smile, but a smile nonetheless. It looked rather out of place among the baggy eyes and dried tears on his fur, but the smile hung there stubbornly. "Well anytime you're in tha neighborhood Filthy, ya could use some fattenin' up." Granny poked at Filthy's stomach with an outstretched hoof and chuckled at Filthy's ticklish squirming before he scrambled away. "Diamond?" Filthy called out from the porch. He shielded his eyes with a hoof as he watched for his daughter. "Wasn't she runnin' with Applebloom?" Granny stepped up beside Filthy, a hoof coming to rest on the old wooden ledge of the porch. "I assume so." He said before he called for his daughter again, this time cupping a hoof about his mouth. Nothing moved in the fields surrounding the Apple family farm, save for Winona chasing what looked like a mouse. "I suppose she went followed the girls someplace-" "Hey Daddy!" A pink filly poked her head outside the doors of the barn, she shoved the door open to reveal Granny Smith's grandson standing aside the six barrels of apples. He had an odd expression on his face, like as if he had just relieved himself of a bad stomach ache. Diamond sprinted up to her father, nimbly jumping several of the porch steps to to stand just underneath her father. "Did you eat?" Diamond Tiara asked as if addressing a foal younger than herself. "Yeah, yeah I did sweetheart." Filthy gave the filly a tired smile and ran a hoof over her hair. "There is still some casserole left if you've gotten hungry." "Nope, this stallion let me eat one of the apples you're ordering." Diamond swept a hoof over to Macintosh, who's wheat stalk dropped from his mouth. "I-I thought-" Macintosh cut himself off as the smile crossed Filthy's face. "Did he now? Well that was very kind of you Macintosh." Filthy stepped down from the porch and reached out to shake the stallion's hoof. Macintosh sighed and reached forward to meet his employer. "It's no trouble sir, and it's jes Big Mac by the way." Macintosh sent a half-hearted smile down to the filly standing next to Filthy, who returned a rather toothy one of her own. "Well Diamond I think we ought to be going, don't you think?" Filthy stepped back from the present Apple family and looked down at his daughter. "Can we still go by the Carousel Boutique?" the filly's tail arched in excitement, eager to see the new sets of clothing she knew her father would not approve of but would buy for her anyway. Filthy sighed and rolled his eyes up, abandoning hope that his daughter had forgotten all about those particularly lacy garments they had seen just yesterday. "I suppose, but you had better be on your best behavior there." "Aren't I always?" Diamond trotted down the dirt road leading out of Sweet Apple Acres. Filthy nodded apologetically to Granny and smiled, turning to follow his daughter down the long dirt road. Big Macintosh sighed and spat out his wheat stalk, suddenly feeling quite thirsty now that the filthy had left his presence. Thirsty for something particularly alcoholic. "Oh and Big Mac!?" The filly shouted back at him. Macintosh turned to see the filly wagging her tail at him. "Thanks for the taste test!" And with that the filly ran back to her now chuckling father. Macintosh snorted and marched past Granny, into the house and straight into the wine cellar.
3. Filthy's Problem".......you should have seen him, big dumb -and- gullible." Diamond Tiara giggled and tipped a plastic teapot over an empty coffee mug. The imaginary steam rolled up under the chin of her favorite doll, Molly, and up and around her long bunny ears. "Of course I messed with him! I had him saying 'yes ma'am'." Diamond Tiara answered one of Molly numerous silent questions. "Well yeah he was cute, but I wouldn't bank on him having much in the brains department." Diamond giggled at her own imagination. "Daddy says I don't have to marry for money, but I can't marry a lunkhead." Diamond's little game of tea went on well into the night, making her blissfully oblivious to her own bedtime. Thank goodness it was the weekend, or the desk in the second row of Ms. Cheerilee's classroom would have been little more than a very uncomfortable mattress come morning. Unbeknownst to the filly, her curious game of imaginary socializing being as engrossing as it was, her father slunk down the white carpeted hallways towards his study. His breath reeked of the whiskey he had been pouring down his throat since he had awoken from his short, restless nap in the cushions of his home theater. He had awoken to the bright blues of his flat screen's idle animation, the light managing to tickle his eyeballs through the veil of their lids. Filthy rolled himself off of the sofa and walked out of the room, not bothering to switch off the electronics on his way out. Outside in the immaculate hallway of the Filthy estate, no maids were present nor butlers to ask him if he was hungry; Filthy had offered the house-care staff a paid vacation in order for proper grieving with his daughter. The silence struck him harshly, more so than the glaring sterile white of the walls and carpet. His hoofs barely even made a sound as he whisked himself away to the parlor, an urgency rooted in the newly acquired monophobia giving a panicked speed to his hoofs. Thoughts of his wife were rushing back. Red soaked through her clothes as he drug her up out of the street. Filthy's shaking hooves turned the knob of his study door, a room filled with bits and bobs of fiction, charters, trade regulations, the occasional naughty magazine, and of course the halfway drained bottle of whiskey hidden just behind the first bookshelf. He slid open the first drawer in his desk, viciously rooting about for the shot glass he knew was there. Filthy eventually grew tired of the search, concluding that perhaps a maid had taken it to the kitchen to be washed, and hefted the bottle out of it's hiding place. After crashing down roughly in a chair in front of his desk, Filthy spent the next hour of wakefulness pushing himself further and further into a drunken haze. Soon he had forgotten the pained expression on Penny's face, not remembering her last agonized moments. But rather, he simply remembered that he missed her. "You know Filthy, you oughta stay here. You don't wanna swing hammers for a living son." Filthy didn't open his eyes, he just answered back while rubbing a temple with his hoof. "It's not like I'm going empty-hooved Dad, I've got a publisher interested in my idea." "And then what? You write a string of best-seller's while trying to raise a foal in a single-bedroom?" "That's the plan, until I can afford a bigger apartment." Filthy answered back calmly, despite his bottom hoof tapping impatiently against the wooden floor. "So let me get this straight, you're gonna write books all day long and only have a fifty-fifty chance of getting them published while your marefriend supports you and the baby by working at the piggly-wiggly?" "That's not how it's gonna be!" Filthy's eyes snapped open with the intensity of his shout. And there was his father. Clear as day, lighting a cigar in the brown leather armchair behind his desk. "I thought you told me you quit?" Filthy slumped further down into his chair, the empty bottle of whiskey resting under one hoof in his lap. His father exhaled the sweet smelling smoke out of his nostrils. "No I'm just a good actor. Can't have anyone but my replacement knowing about these habits." "Dad I don't wanna run the business. I told you, I'm leaving with Penny next week." "Yeah I heard you the first time Filthy." His father took another puff, holding the smoke in for a few seconds while he riffled through a stack of papers on his desk. "It's not like I need you to take over Filthy. There's plenty of stallions working in the marketing division right now doing good work," Filthy watched with intrigue as each word was accented by a wisp of smoke, each smokey tail seeming to hang onto vowels. "There's a few mares too, but you know how they can be." "What's that supposed to mean?" Filthy asked, rubbed his brow and stirred the last remaining drops in his bottle. "Well...I guess you're old enough to know that you old man gets a lot of attention from the younger mares. Especially now that I'm thinking of retiring. It'd be nice if they'd stop throwing themselves on my desk when your mother isn't here though." "Dad. Don't tell me--" "No, no, son I'm much too old to be fooling around behind your mother's back anymore." His father shook his head, jostling his tidy mane as he took another deep inhale. "Look, Dad I don't want to argue about this again. I can do this, and Penny isn't helpless." "Oh I know she isn't helpless. Pincher's rarely are, assuming the apple didn't fall far from the tree. But she IS pregnant Filthy. And much too early if you want my honest opinion. "I don't." "Well be that as it may, why not just spend a few more years here until you save up enough money for a nice little fixer-upper instead of those dingy apartments." His father set the cigar down and folded his hooves on the desk. "Dad...I'd just rather the baby grow up normal. Have a normal name for fuck's sake." Filthy expected his father to cross the room and slap him, but nothing came. "So poverty is normal to you. To my son." The old stallion raised his brow. "And what if it is? You think I like the idea of putting ponies out of business?" Filthy spread his front hooves wide, the liquid in his bottle making hollow splashes against the thick glass. "I hired each one of those ponies I put out of business." The old stallion thumped his hoof against the desk with "each" and "one". "But not before they lost their lives' savings pouring their ambitions into a waste paper basket." At this point Filthy had leaned forward for his wording between his bared teeth to be heard, hoping his father felt every bit of contempt he had inside of him. "And how did this affect you hmm? Those new toys and games too good for you?" His father was bordering upon hysterics, throwing his hooves up as he lost his normally vast amount of patience. "The ponies at school sure thought so." "And here we are Filthy." His father spoke as if he had just solved the million dollar question. "This is all about your boo-hoo-ing about how you didn't have any friends at school. How your only friend was the daughter of an employee I hired out of pity." Filthy stood and slung the bottle as hard as he could, hoping this time it would collide with his father rather than the wall as it did so many years ago. He barely registered the breaking glass against the bookshelf beyond the liquid that had just splashed against his copy of "The City Beneath the Sea". His breathing had reached the point where his body shook, the needless adrenaline coursing through his veins like a sick drug and making him feel the need to vomit in his current state of inebriation. But his father had gone. That night had already been lived. And here he was. Almost a decade later in the very place he swore he would never be. Only this time, he was alone. "Daddy." As if on cue, a scared but determined voice sounded from behind him. Filthy turned with some drunken difficulty to the door to see his daughter. She was sitting back on her haunches with her jaw set stiff, trying her best to look stern although her eyes had welled up. "You need to go to sleep." She said simply, holding a hoof out for Filthy to take. He didn't say a word as he crossed the room toward her. It was as if the filly had spoken a magic word that existed in her storybooks, her guidance seeming to be unquestionable and her logic the finest. He followed the filly like a catatonic patient, allowing her to lead him to the bathroom and all. They walked together down the now haunting white hallways towards the upstairs living room. Even now in the dead of night it seemed cosy with its myriad of paperback novels and soft sofas. Diamond led Filthy toward one just near the cold fireplace, and pushed him into a comfortable position on it. Filthy watched wordlessly as Diamond crawled onto the sofa next to him, keeping a fair amount of space before Filthy put his hoof around her. He pulled the filly close and leaned his head into her stomach, where he took a deep reassuring breath from her fur. Be it the dim lights and the comfortable rise and fall of his daughters stomach, or the weight of the alcohol in his own, Filthy fell into a rather deep sleep. That night he did not awaken from the dreams of his wife.
4. My name is...."So how'd you like not getting fired the other day?" Diamond rested her hooves under her chin as she watched the red pony wrestle with the pitchfork in his teeth, only for him to drop it with a sigh. "Very funny." Macintosh chose not to look at the little filly as he crossed the barn. Late afternoon sunlight shown just between the wooden board walls of the barn, a thin stream of light resting upon a sack of sunflower seeds. Macintosh ducked his head into it, filling one side of his mouth before he returned to work. "Ooo is that grouchiness I'm hearing" Diamond pushed herself up from the grain sack she was laying on in order to rest her front hooves on her hips. "What're ya doin' here anyway?" Macintosh said around his mouth full of seeds, taking care not to spit as he addressed the filly. Diamond settled back down on the grain sacks with a small smirk on her face. "I came to play to with Applebloom." she said as she crossed her back legs, her fronts resting under her chin again. "An' why exactly did ya not leave with her to Scootaloo's?" Macintosh paused his rummaging through the toolbox he had picked up. It had seemed he had misplaced several flathead screwdrivers. "Cause I've already got my Cutie Mark, therefore I wouldn't need to go with them to try weightlifting." She paused and inspected the scuffed corner of one hoof. "I doubt Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo will keep up with Applebloom though." "Pickin' favorites?" Where exactly did the brand new screw boxes go? "Pssh...it's called biology." Diamond Tiara asked back, buffing the scuff out against her chest fur. "Scootaloo don't seem tough to ya?" He made a mental note to pick up more lumber from town later, the stock in the barn was awfully low. Diamond dropped the hoof she was polishing and emphasized her reply by starting it off with a scoff. "Does Rainbow Dash seem very tough to you?" Macintosh spit a number of empty seeds out through the barn door and answered without looking at the filly. "Seems like a lot o' hot air to me." "Exactly. I feel like puking every time she talks about 'saving Ponyville from evil!'." She deepened her voice a bit in her best imitation of the resident Element of Harmony, even going as far as flapping her hooves in placement of the mare's wings. "An' that's how you see Scootaloo?" The stallion tried not to picture Scootaloo, her tiny wings buzzing about, "saving the day" and bragging about it to anypony that would listen. "That's how I call it." The filly answered with a nod. "You almost done in here by the way? I'm bored." "Not sure why ya came in here in tha first place." Macintosh smirked as the filly jumped up, an expression on her face like somepony had told her she was tubby. "Well EXCUSE me! I'm just trying to be nice and talk to a pony that spends all his time in an hayfield." The filly jumped down from her grain sacks and stood waiting for a response from Macintosh. "Well?" She asked, after no sound but the clinking of nails met her question. "Well what?" The stallion asked, again not bothering to look at her as he rooted through his toolboxes again. "...You're not as fun as Applebloom." She marched up to Macintosh before he could question her statement and held out her hoof. "My name is Diamond Tiara by the way, I don't think I introduced myself the other day." Macintosh fidgeted with the seeds in his mouth before he held out a hoof to shake the filly's. She had a weak shake, but it was a good try for a filly of her age. "Macintosh Apple. Um...Big Mac, fer short." "Mhm. Big Macintosh." She said with a wry smile. "Yeah I know." Macintosh replied with a sigh, the gimmick of his name having lost its charm many many years ago. He took his hoof back with a small smile, perhaps now thinking a bit more highly of the filly who had pulled a fast one on him only days before. "Ya plan on getting out of this barn anytime soon though?" Diamond kicked at the dirt floor, now not caring that she was probably scuffing her hooves again. "Suppose I could have a bite ta eat. I'm supposin' you wanna come too?" "About time don't you think?" She led the way through the barn doors into the late afternoon sun. It was rapidly sinking on the horizon, painting shadows here and there along the fence-line. An hour ago, when Diamond had first walked into the barn, the heat had been doing its best to slow her trot. Now it seemed to caress her muscles and tickle the fur with occasional breezes. "You don't talk much do you?" Diamond asked the towering figure next to her. He spit the remaining seeds out into the tall grass near the fence and shook his head. "Nope." Diamond cocked a smile and trotted faster to keep up with the slow yet large strides the stallion was taking. "I wish I had more friends like that." She said simply, not actually expecting Macintosh to reply. And of course the pony did not, but rather simply smiled. The two were met with supple aromas wafting about when they entered the Apple family home. Granny Smith had apparently just prepared dinner for her grandchildren, two hungry from working the farm and another from what had probably turned out to be a life or death situation. Typical Applebloom. "Granny ya mind settin' up for one more? Ms. Diamond's gonna be joinin' us." Big Macintosh motioned for Diamond to join Granny in the kitchen. "And whatta about you? Yer lookin' a bit thin lately Macintosh Apple." Granny shook her ladle at him, one end slick with soup broth. "Gonna bathe first." Macintosh motioned with his neck towards the stairs. Indeed, accumulated mud and sweat didn't seem very comfortable to wear needlessly. "Well, come on young un', let's get ya fed. Where's yer pa by the way?" the old mare asked, leaning upon the stove where a pot of vegetable soup sat in wait. "He's at home. He was sick this morning when I woke him up." Her Daddy had indeed fell ill that morning, as evidenced by the gagging and chokes she had heard beyond the bathroom door. Granny sighed as she ladled out the thick soup. The poor stallion seemed like he had been doing better by the end of his last visit, but she was no fool. "How bout' I just put some for you an' your pa in somethin' ta carry home?" Granny asked, already reaching for a large plastic container on the dish shelf above the sink. "Well...he probably did forget to eat again." Diamond, having already pulled a chair back at the kitchen table to sit in, pushed it back in politely with the top of her head. "Macintoooosh? Macintosh Apple!" Granny did not wait between her fussy calls for the stallion to answer back. There was a commotion heard just above the kitchen, on the second floor where Macintosh's room was. A few seconds later found the pony trudging back down the stairs with a towel slung about his neck where his plow collar had previously been. "Granny?" He asked, standing just on the last stair in case he was allowed to return to his business. "Walk this young un' home," Granny hobbled over to Macintosh, carrying the nearly the thick vegetable soup in a red topped plastic container, "and be careful not ta spill this on yer way. It's for Filthy and the lil' missus." Macintosh sighed and rubbed a hoof over his eyes. The bathwater that was waiting for him would surely be cold once he returned, and he simply didn't have it in him to waste the water by draining it. Slinging his towel over the railing of the stairs, Macintosh descended the rest of the stairs. As Granny balanced the container on the lower portion of his back he nearly asked where Applejack was and if by chance she was not busy. But, with a glance at the filly in the kitchen, he supposed that Diamond was no more AJ's responsibility than she was his. "Alrighty then Miss Diamond, tell your pa I said hi." "Mhm." Diamond nodded at the elderly mare as she went to sit down in her rocker, forgetting entirely that she had been preparing dinner for her grandson and her soon to be arriving granddaughters. Big Macintosh held the screen door open for the filly as she pranced out into the rapidly dying sunlight. Crickets and all sorts of insect life were already chirping loudly in the tall grasses of Sweet Apple Acres (thank goodness Twilight had figured out a way to implement magic to replace pesticides). A slight breeze had picked up, a welcome change from the heat of the day. The two made their way down from the porch and onto the dirt road back to Ponyville. Aside from the drone of the insects, no sounds were exchanged. The two simply walked casually away down the road, Diamond every once in a while sneaking peeks at the stallion next to her. "You look weird without that collar thing." Diamond said suddenly, her voice breaking through the white noise of the insect chirps. "How?" Macintosh said with his usual bored voice, although he was actually a bit curious. "Ya look lopsided." She said simply. Her eyes darted away from Macintosh and back again as the silence went on, like he was expecting more of an answer. "That's it." Big Macintosh scratched at his neck with the back of a hoof, suddenly feeling quite naked on the dirt road. He didn't usually think much of what other ponies thought of his appearance, but his collar was quite nearly a second skin. And for a filly to point it out, somepony he couldn't truly argue with.... "It's too hot to be wearin' it anyway." Macintosh said, hoping she'd drop the subject. "It's always too hot here. Ponyville weather is the pits." She grumbled back darkly. "Ya like it cold?" "I like the weather being NORMAL. The weather team here is always doing something stupid." Diamond paused and added with a frown, "But then I guess that IS normal here." "What do ya mean? Ya don't like Ponyville?" He looked down at her this time, watching the frown deepen just a bit. "Don't even get me started." She said, and even though Macintosh said nothing in response, she "started" anyway. "School is lame, the ponies there are stupid, except Silver Spoon of course, there's no place any good to shop, everypony can't keep themselves out of MY business." She adjusted her tiara with a hoof as she went on, trying to keep her voice cool about the content. "I just wish I was in Canterlot. At least there would be something to do everyday." Macintosh thought about this for a moment. What WAS there to do for fun? Well there was Sugarcube Corner of course, what with Pinkie Pie there. That was one thing, but past that Macintosh found himself racking his brain for an answer. Ponyville simply wasn't that interesting of a place when it wasn't being attacked by a giant monster of some sort, which actually wasn't all that exciting as it was traumatic. "Uuuuhhh what about Applebloom and her friends? Ya gettin' along with em'? Ya should bring round that Silver Spoon pony." "Yeah..." Diamond huffed and replied in a voice barely higher than a whisper. Had Silver Spoon not been busy with her (pointless) piano lessons, her and Diamond would probably be eating ice cream in her room right now. She already had some serious damage control coming her way when Silver found out she'd been giving the Cutie Mark losers ideas. "I'll talk ta Applebloom later. I imagine ya lied ta cover up for those three ditchin' ya." Diamond's brow raised and she turned to look at Macintosh's thoughtful expression. "I don't really care--" "No Miss Diamond I'm thinkin' I understand right well what's goin' on. I know Granny told her ta be nicer to ya--well ...yeah." Macintosh trailed off, realizing his mistake. He snuck a glance at the filly, hoping she didn't realize the Apple family pitied her. Pitied her loss. Thankfully, she didn't retaliate at Macintosh's words. But she understood what Macintosh meant, evident my her firmly closed jaw and her eyes that trailed the rocks and gravel at her hooves. "I didn't mean ta..." Macintosh began softly. "No, it's fine." Diamond quickly cut him off and raised her head with a curt sniff. "I just try not to think about it." Macintosh was not naive enough to believe that though, but he did have to commend her performance as an actor. Her father, perhaps because of his business savvy nature, had taught her how to make a lie believable. "Well...I mean uh...you're more n' welcome ta talk to me, if ya need to." Macintosh kept his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. In his mind, doing so made him feel less awkward about the sincere offer to the filly. "Yeah well don't bank on it," Diamond said, but added a few seconds later, "thank you though." "Mhm." The stallion nodded and remained silent as they reached the main streets of Ponyville, where several ponies were locking up for the evening.
