"So you burn one." Applebloom tossed a card facedown on the grass. "And then you send off the flop."
"Do you really have to burn it?" Sweetie Belle asked. "That seems like a waste."
"She just means we don't use it," Scootaloo explained, "But could we burn it? That would be cool."
"No, not unless you want to buy your own cards," Applebloom peaked at her two cards, "Sweetie, it's your bet."
"Uhm," Sweetie Belle rubbed her leg, "I don't actually have any money."
"Seriously?" Scootaloo yelled, "That was the whole point of this game. How did you not know that?"
"I did." Sweetie frowned, "But do either of you have money?"
Applebloom and Scootaloo were silent. Sweetie Belle sighed and placed a hard candy between the three of them. Scootaloo matched and thumped her hoof on the grass.
"That's how you do it, right?" Scootaloo asked.
Applebloom nodded and tossed in a candy as well.
"Now, burn and turn." Applebloom discarded one card and placed another by the flop. She turned to Sweetie Belle "Your bet again."
Sweetie Belle looked at her cards, back up at the candy, back to her cards, and frowned.
"I fold," She said.
"No," Applebloom objected, "You don't have to fold or raise, just thump your hoof on the ground and pass the bet to Scootaloo."
"But I don't have anything good." Sweetie Belle held up her cards.
"No!" Applebloom covered her eyes, "Don't show me your cards."
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo's eyes narrowed, and they looked up behind Applebloom.
"Class started half an hour ago," Cheerilee fumed.
"Hey, sis," Applebloom slid beside her Applejack, "You know how you said that if I got in trouble I could always talk to you about it? No matter what."
"Yeah." Applejack flattened a pie crust on the countertop with a rolling pin.
"Well you see," Applebloom muttered, "I got into a bit of trouble at school, and I need you to sign a note."
"Uh-huh." Applejack pressed a tear in the dough back together.
"No questions asked?" Applebloom placed the note on the counter.
"That's nice." Applejack continued rolling out the dough.
"So, if it's allright with you, here's a pen," Applebloom handed her a pen.
"All right," Applejack took the pen, and her eyes widened when she saw the paper.
"Something wrong?" Applebloom asked.
"What the hay is this?" Applejack yelled, "Who even taught you to play poker?"
"Big Mac," Applebloom answered.
"Big Macintosh!" Applejack grabbed the note and stomped into the living room. "Did you teach Applebloom how to play poker?"
"Eeyup." Big Mac unfolded his newspaper.
"Do you want to explain yourself?" Applejack tossed the note down on the coffee table.
"Nope." Big Mac flipped to the next page.
Applejack stared at him a while. Big Mac continued reading his paper. Applejack tapped her hoof on the wooden floor. Big Mac flipped to the next page. An orange foreleg erupted through it and stopped just short of his face. He put the ruined paper down.
"What do you think ma and pa would say about this?" Applejack tapped him on the head with the rolling pin.
"Not much." Big Mac winced and rubbed his forehead, "On account of being dead."
"Do you want to go the schoolhouse and explain this to Cheerilee?" Applejack raised the rolling pin again.
"Nope." Big Mac stood up.
"Where are you going?" Applejack yelled.
"Out." He opened the front door.
"Big Macintosh," Applejack warned, "Do you think we're done talking?"
"Eeyup." He slammed the door behind him.
Applejack grit her teeth, and crushed the note.
"So, um." Applebloom looked at her from the kitchen door, "Are you gonna sign that?"
The schoolchildren waited for their parents to come pick them up. Filthy Rich wrapped a foreleg around Diamond Tiara.
"Hi, Daddy." She returned his embrace, "What happened to your tie?"
Rich rubbed his bare neck. "Daddy had a bad day at work."
"Ok," She smiled and walked with him, "Can we go to the toy store?"
"Daddy had a really bad day at work," Filthy Rich admitted.
Applejack arrived shortly after, she looked at Applebloom from the doorway, and stepped into the schoolhouse.
"Have a seat." Cheerilee did not look up from her papers. "I'll be with you in a moment."
"Um," Applejack looked at the tiny desks.
"I said have a seat," Cheerilee snapped.
"I don't quite think I'll fit," Applejack said.
"Oh." Cheerilee looked up. "I am so sorry, I thought you were one of the children."
"Do you normally talk to the children like that?" Applejack teased.
"No, not normally." Cheerilee stood up. "You must be Applebloom's mother."
"No," Applejack denied, "I'm her sister, you know how it is."
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Just, I'm here to talk about Applebloom."
"I don't think I can allow that."
"Why not?"
"I can only talk to her guardian."
"Do you really want to talk to Granny Smith?"
Cheerilee thought for a moment.
"Would you like some coffee?" She asked.
"None for me thanks." Applejack sat her hat on a desk, "Now, I've already had a talk with her about the gambling."
"This isn't about gambling." Cheerilee pulled out a calender covered in frowny faces, "I took the time to create a visual aide showing Applebloom's attendance."
"That's a lot of frowny faces," Applejack nodded, "I'm guessing those are bad?"
"Yes." Cheerilee rolled up the calender, "So bad that I have to hold her back a grade."
"Ok, how many frowny faces bad?" Applejack asked, "Just so I have some scale to work with."
"Enough to make her the subject of ridicule for an entire school year," Cheerilee answered.
"That's bad," Applejack admitted, "What can I do to help her?"
"Nothing," Cheerilee scoffed, "I'm amazed that you've all ignored my letters on the subject."
"Did you address them to Granny Smith?"
"Yes."
"So, you want to blame us when you addressed important letters to a senile old mare?"
Cheerilee scratched her head.
"So." Applejack donned her hat. "What can I do to make some frowny faces disappear?"
Cheerilee rested her head back on the pillow, a mad grin on her face.
"That was amazing," She panted, "All right, you don't have to worry about your sister." Cheerilee wiped the sweat from her brow. "I mean, I could lose my job over this, but it's worth it." She smiled again. "Keep this up, and I'll give her an attendance award." Cheerilee paused for a moment and sighed. "No, that won't do." She propped her head up on her forelegs, relaxing across her bed. "What I mean to say is; We can do this again sometime, right?"
"Eeyup." Big Macintosh looked into the bedside mirror, straightening his new tie, a nice red one with a gold dollar sign.
