Zap Apple Speakeasy

by UnweptSchlipps

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Comedy, Random
Length: 1607

Granny Smith's got a few surprises left in her, like the stories of how a little old granny was once the owner of the best darn speakeasy south of Canterlot.

“Did I ever tell y’all about the time…?”

It’s one of the most oft-repeated phrases in Sweet Apple Acres. And frankly, it can get quite on Applebloom's nerves, especially when it's the same story over and over again. But as it turns out, sweet ol’ Granny Smith still has a few surprises left in her arsenal of tales.

This time around, it’s the story of how a little old granny was once the proud owner of the best speakeasy south of Canterlot.

A collection of stories about Granny Smith’s adventures in Prohibitionist Equestria.

*Cover pic by the-only-halo on DeviantArt!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-27 22:57:19 UTC

Welcome to 'The Zap'

“Did I ever tell y’all about the time…?”

“Yes, Granny. Ya probably told me about a bajillion times.”

The sweltering heat beat down mercilessly on Sweet Apple Acres. The sun hung high in the sky with not a cloud in sight, and there no weather ponies either to relieve the farmers from the heat. But there was still work to be done on the hottest day of the summer. Cows to milk, trees to trim, and barns to repair.

Of course, that didn’t stop Applebloom from complaining. And the heat certainly didn’t help her mood one bit.

The filly stood under the shade of an apple tree, stacking baskets of fruit into a cart. Sweat coated her forehead, dampening her fur. Her movements were slow and creaky, much like the joints of the old mare supervising her. After putting the last bushel on the cart, the filly slumped down next to the tree, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

“It’s soooo hot, Granny. I think I’m gonna die!” the young pony whined, wiping the sweat off her brow.

“Yer just exaggeratin’, Applebloom. I’ve been doin this fer a hundred years, and obviously I ain’t dead yet!” Granny Smith called from her spot by the fence, underneath the shade of an umbrella. “Why, have I ever told you the time…”

“…it was a hundred an’ twenty degrees and all you had was an ice cube and a bag of frozen peas, yes Granny. I’ve heard that one too.”

“Well now, what’s gotten you so antsy today?”

Letting out a sigh, the filly answered, “Sorry Granny, I’m just…I’m not in the mood right now, okay? An' with this heat an' all...I think I should just rest. Alone.” Applebloom quickly stood up and scampered up to the farmhouse, shielding her face from both the heat and her granny.

The old mare watched with a furrowed brow as her granddaughter fled into the house. Putting a crooked hoof up to her mouth, she began to mumble to herself. Suddenly, a smile spread across her wrinkled lips, and with a glint in her eye, she began to creep toward the barn.

An hour later, Applebloom sat on the porch with a grimace, sweat still visible on her face. “Dumb heat. Dumb sun. Dumb…everythin’,” she murmured to herself, passing the time by blowing a roly-poly across the wood.

A voice called out from the steps, breaking the filly’s bored trance. She found her older sister clambering up the hill, stiff and sore from the day’s hard work. “Howdy, Bloom!” she called, straining to get a crick out of her back.

“Hey sis,” Applebloom replied quietly.

Applejack stepped into the shade, and taking off her hat to wipe her forehead, she asked, “Why the long face? Besides the usual 'pony' thing a'course, heh.”

The joke didn't do much to wipe the grimace off Applebloom's face. “It’s jus’ the heat is all," she replied despondently.

Playfully poking her sister’s bow, Applejack answered, “Well, a little heat never hurt anypony. Besides, I think it ain’t just the heat that’s puttin’ yer panties in a bunch.”

Groaning, Applebloom replied, “It’s not…sometimes I just wanna be alone, okay? Granny Smith…she keeps tellin’ me all these stories that I’ve heard millions of times before. It…it gets annoyin’ after a while!”

The older sister gave a light-hearted chuckle, sitting down next to the little filly. “Now Applebloom,” she began, putting a hoof around her sister’s shoulder. “Believe me, I understand how yer feelin’. I’ve certainly heard my share of Granny’s stories. But all she’s trying to do is help you learn something, not annoy you. So do your best to humor her, ‘kay? Who knows? She’s got a lotta stories in her. Maybe one day she’ll come out and surprise y—.”

Applejack was interrupted by a shrill voice calling out from the barn. “Applebloom! Could you come in here, please?”

“Well speak a’ the devil. Looks like she needs you, sis!” Patting her on the back, Applejack sent the filly down the steps. “Remember what I said, okay?”

“Okay, sis.”

Despite her sister’s advice, Applebloom couldn’t help but be just a tad bit irritated, wondering what inane task Granny had in store this time. But that feeling soon faded away as she approached the barn, where creaking and clicking sounds could be heard from inside. A loud bump caused the filly to jump and let out a small peep. She made her way to the barn door, her wide eyes scanning the red exterior. Placing a slightly trembling hoof on the wood, she timidly pushed in and stuck her head inside.

“H-hello? Granny? Granny Smith?” The barn was extremely dim, and for some reason, a frosty breeze flowed from inside, sending a chill down the filly’s back. Applebloom crept into the eerie barn, letting a sliver of light stream inside. With it, she could faintly make out a dark figure in the corner of the building, standing next to what looked to be a trap door. “G-Granny? Is that you?”

The figure responded with a gleeful, “YEE HAW!”, waving her walker in the air before plunging into the dark hole.

Letting out a gasp, Applebloom frantically clambered over to the passageway. “Granny, Granny!” she yelled, before tripping over her own hooves and falling into a haystack next to the trap door. Popping out of the hay, she leaned over the edge to see the old pony a couple of feet down, holding a lantern in her hooves. Relieved, the filly called out, “Granny, what the hay was that?”

“Testin’ out the new hip, little missy!” she replied with a hearty chuckle, tapping on her hindleg. “Come on down, Applebloom. I wanna show you somethin’!”

“What is it?”

“Well you gotta come along an’ see fer yourself!”

With a curious grin, the filly shot out of the haystack and leapt into the hole, plopping down next to the elder mare.  Her skin pricked from a cold breeze, another shiver running through her body. Rubbing her hoofs together, Applebloom commented, “Wow, it’s so cold down here!”

“Of course it is. Gotta keep the drinks nice an’ cold!”

“Drinks?”

Without further explanation, Granny Smith started to stroll forward, leaving a mightily confused filly in her wake. As her eyes wandering through the mysterious passage, Applebloom’s mouth switched to autopilot, “What are we doing? Where are we going? What’s this passage for? Why is it so cold? What do ya mean by drinks?”

The filly suddenly crashed into her granny’s flank, falling back on her haunches. In front was a steel door with a little slot at about eye-level, and multiple padlocks attached to the side. To Applebloom’s wonder, the old mare slipped out a ring of keys, and as if by routine, she unlocked each of the locks on the first try. Swinging the door inward, Granny Smith whispered with a mischievous grin, “We’re here.”

When Applebloom witnessed the scene before her, her legs remained stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging agape. She found herself in a room that seemed bigger than the barn itself. Tables and chair were set up like a restaurant, cobwebs and dust covering them like a veil. A long wooden counter spanned one side of the room, with shelves of empty bottles and mugs jutting out from the wall. At the far end was a raised platform, where a large bass and a fiddle sat, gathering more cobwebs. Dartboards hung on the walls, some still having darts stuck to them. As she took in the underground sight, she was reminded of a small tavern Applejack would often take her to for dinner.

Then the lanterns flickered on, giving the place a warm glow, almost as if the place had just been open yesterday. That cold, uneasy feeling Applebloom had felt in the pit her stomach soon faded away. For some reason, she felt like she was home.

“Hey Applebloom, catch!” With surprising dexterity, Granny Smith leaned over the counter and tossed a bottle behind her back. The throw was perfect, landing right in the filly’s waiting hooves. “Heh. I still got it.” The young pony looked questioningly at the glass bottle, so Granny Smith assured her, “Don’t worry. It’s just regular ol’ apple juice. Fer a parched throat on a hot day!”

Applebloom took a sip and gave a huge smile, the familiar tangy taste of Granny’s famous apple cider tickling her tongue. Walking up to the old mare with the bottle pressed to her warm cheek, she asked, “Granny? What is this place? It’s…it’s amazing!”

“Back in my day, we called it the Zap Apple Speakeasy. ‘Course, we never called it that upside. In public, it was only known as ‘The Zap’.”

“What’s a speakeasy?”

“Back then, they had this thing called Prohibition, where they outlawed…well, actually, this is a looooong story, and I don’t wanna bore you or anything,” Granny Smith said, slowly turning around, giving a fake frown.

“No! Wait! I…I wanna know!”

With a sly grin, the old mare slid out a stool from underneath the counter, while the filly slid onto one of the dusty chairs. Cleaning out an old mug with a rag, Granny Smith began, “Did I ever tell you about the time yer granny was one of the slyest young lawbreakers in Equestria?”

“No way!”

Nodding her head, she continued, “Oh yes. In fact, I’ve got a lot of stories about it, stories I’ve never told nopony. Not Applejack, not Big Mac, nopony!”

“Tell all of ‘em! All of ‘em!”

“Well…I suppose it all started with me, my brother Melrose, and my cousin Honeycrisp…”