Granny Smith Got Run Over By A Reindeer
Granny Smith Got Run Over By A Reindeer
“Jingle bells, Discord smells… hmm wait that ain’t right…” Granny Smith paused on the snow sprinkled road that led to Sweet Apple Acres. “Ah, fiddle sticks. Jingle bells, Discord smells, Celestia laid an egg!”
It was Christmas Eve in Equestria, and everypony was either out celebrating the holiday or spending time with their family. Granny Smith usually did the latter; making gingerbread cookies with Applejack and counting snowflakes with Apple Bloom were just a couple of her favorite Christmas traditions. This year, however, was different. Applejack had been called to Canterlot with the rest of her friends and they decided to take the Cutie Mark Crusaders with them. Big Macintosh mostly preferred solitude, so Granny Smith decided to spend the evening with some old friends from when she a filly.
“You know, Granny Smith,” said Sugar Plum earlier that evening, hiccuping slightly from the cider that Granny Smith had brought with her. “I can’t understand why we don’t do that more often.”
“Maybe because you can’t handle anything stronger than an oatshake,” Silver Song answered drily, causing Granny Smith to cackle with glee. “Besides, crazy nights aren’t really Granny’s thing anymore.”
Granny Smith stopped laughing immediately. “Now what the hay is that supposed t’mean?”
Silver Song sipped idly at her cider. “I can remember a time when Green Apple Smith would never say no to a spur of the moment trip to Manehattan or spending all night waiting for those Wonderbolts to fly by. Guess you’re too old for all that now,” she finished with a smirk.
“Ooooo!” Sugar Plum giggled.
Granny Smith’s nostrils flared. “Ya ain’t lookin’ so young an’ adventurous yourself.”
“Ooooo!”
“Oh, hush, Sugar Plum!”
Silver Song tossed her thick white mane over her shoulder. “Perhaps, but at least I don’t stay on farm all day, every day. You don’t even go by Green Apple anymore. It’s like your everypony’s granny now.”
Granny Smith stamped her hoof indignantly. “Ah’ll have ya’ll know that Ah am not too old t’have a good time, an’ Ah can still buck an apple from here t’Canterlot! G’night, ladies, an’ a Merry Christmas t’ya!”
“Wait,” Sugar Plum feebly called after Granny Smith as she stormed out. “I want some more cider…”
So here Granny Smith was, walking home alone on Christmas Eve night. She stopped, leaning against a fence post so she could give her hip a rest. She sighed. Silver Song was right; she was old. She didn’t know how many Christmas’ she had left, and she wasn’t even spending this one with her family.
There was a sound from above her, but before Granny Smith could look up to see what it was, something clipped her on the head. She must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing she saw were multiple sets of furry hooves right in front of her face. They were attached to large pony-like creatures with enormous antlers that were lined up in pairs. Granny Smith glared up at them. “What in tarnation d’ya think you’re doing?”
“Vatch your language, madame,” one of the lead creatures answered in a strong accent. “Do you not know to whom you are speaking?”
Granny Smith glanced up at the antlers adorning the head of her assailant. “Some hay brained unicorn that’s been chewin’ too many poppy seeds?”
His partner chuckled. “A unicorn? I believe you vere just insulted, comrade.”
Their companions laughed as the first one stamped his hoof in anger. “You dare, voman? You are speaking to The Reindeer Elite, the personal escort of-“
Granny Smith shoved her face into the reindeer’s furry muzzle. “Ah don’t give a rotten crab apple if’n you’re a reindeer or a mossy caterpillar; ya jus’ ran me over! Ah’ll buck your hide straight to the moon, so help me-“
A rich, velvet voice interrupted Granny Smith’s tirade. “Well, if it isn’t Green Apple Smith.”
A magnificent, snowy white alicorn emerged from the carriage that the reindeer were pulling. He wore a red coat, and a beard adorned his face. He spread his wings and smiled down at Granny Smith. “You’ve grown since last I saw you.”
Granny Smith squinted up at him. “An’ who the hay are you?”
“Don’t you remember me? You used to sit up waiting for me until you fell asleep and your father carried you off to bed. I am Santa Claus.”
To her credit, Granny Smith didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Uh huh. If ya got wings, why’d ya got the reindeer pullin’ ya ‘round?”
“A very good question,” one of the reindeer muttered.
Santa chuckled. “How else am I supposed to transport the gifts I have for all the little fillies and colts?”
“Speakin’ o’ presents, where’s that Wanderin’ Willow doll ya were supposed t’get me?”
“I believe that was the year you hung your mother’s girdles from the school flagpole.”
“An’ it was the year Ah stopped thinkin’ you was real,” Granny Smith countered.
Santa pawed the cold ground with his hoof and smiled up at the sky. “Yes, those things tend to happen, but as long as the spirit of Christmas continues to exist, I will continue to do my work. Surely you know better than most that the true magic of Christmas lies with the ones we love.”
Granny Smith was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, ya gotta point there.”
Santa glanced over his shoulder at his reindeer. “I’m afraid it is time for us to be going. I apologize for my, uh, comrades’ behavior. When they decide they want to take a break, there is very little I can do to stop them.”
“I vould like to see you try to carry us all over the vorld,” the leader mutter.
Granny Smith glared at him. “Will ya jus’ stop talkin’?”
“Do you vant to try to stop me?”
“All right, that’s enough.” Santa separated Granny Smith from his reindeer. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Green Apple. Oh, before I go…” Santa’s horn glowed and a pale green pony doll appeared out of thin air. “Here is your Wandering Willow doll. I hope you find the rest of your Christmas wishes at home. Merry Christmas.”
With that, Santa Claus boarded his sleigh and flew off into the night sky.
Apple Bloom flung her hooves around her grandmother as she walked through the door. “Merry Christmas, Granny!”
Granny Smith’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well, howdy there, filly! What’cha doin’ home?”
Applejack emerged from the kitchen. “We finished up in Canterlot sooner than we thought, so me an’ Apple Bloom hopped on the first train t’Ponyville an’ hightailed it back home so we could spend the holiday with our family.”
Apple Bloom dragged Granny Smith into the living room. “Come see what we did!” A tall pine tree stood in the corner, the limbs heavy with ornaments and sparkling with lights as Big Macintosh placed logs on the roaring fire. “Mac cut it down an’ me an’ Applejack decorated it.”
"Eeyup," Big Macintosh nodded proudly.
Applejack came up behind Granny Smith. “Do ya like it?”
Granny Smith hugged her granddaughters. “Like it? Why, it’s one o’ the purdiest things Ah’ve ever seen!” She handed Apple Bloom her Wandering Willow doll. “Now why dontcha get me some eggnog while Ah tell ya’ll what happened t’me…”
Later that evening, as Applejack was tucking her into bed, Apple Bloom asked, “Did Granny really get run over by a reindeer?”
Applejack chuckled. “Ya know how Granny is; always tellin’ some wild story. ‘Sides, Ah thought ya were too old for Santa Claus.”
“O’ course Ah am!” Apple Bloom said immediately. “Santa’s for babies.”
Applejack smiled and gave Apple Bloom a kiss. “G’night, Apple Bloom. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, AJ,” Apple Bloom murmured. She listened as Applejack walked down the hall to her room. Once she heard her door closed, Apple Bloom leapt out of bed and ran to her window. Leaning against the windowsill, Apple Bloom gazed up at the night sky. “Come whenever ya feel like it, Santa. Ah’ll be here waitin’.”
