Chapter 9: Call A Spade A Trowel

Applejack was hard at work again, bucking her way through the orchard. Stopping for a momentary break to wipe sweat off of her brow, Applejack cracked a few joints. She turned back to her work, only to find-

“Best Pony.” Applejack sighed. “How can I help you?”

“I just need the barn.” Best Pony stated.

“That all?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“Yup.” Best Pony nodded.

“You won't come out here and ask me for anything else?” Applejack shook her head.

“Nope.” Best Pony nodded. “Or, yup? I'm not sure which makes a positive-er negative?”

“Just nod.” Applejack groaned.

Best Pony nodded.

“Good.” Applejack looked over her shoulder. “Because I've got a lot of work to get done around here, and I can't deal with a lot of interruptions. So unless you really need something, I'll be out here bucking 'til my heart gives out.” With that, Applejack adjusted her hat and went back into the orchard.

The work was hard and demanding. But, somehow, it was also very relaxing for Applejack. It was the only time she really had to herself because most often ponies don't really volunteer for that kind of work, which was okay by AJ. When she thought she had cleared a particular area, she looked around just to be sure. Good thing she did, too. There was one tree she had almost missed, just on the other side of the pathway.

“How could I have missed you?” Applejack asked the tree as she started galloping towards it. Just as she was about to buck it, Best Pony came out of nowhere right behind her. Applejack froze, not wanting to buck the Alicorn in the face, but also not wanting to fall flat on hers. She teetered for a moment on her forelegs before losing her balance and landing flat on her rear.

“Plot twist!” Best Pony declared. “Turns out, there's all of this farm equipment in the barn. What do I do with this?” Best Pony held out a couple tools.

“Whenever we throw shindigs in the barn, we either move all of the equipment outside, or just off to either side of the barn.” Applejack explained, peeking over Best Pony's shoulder to see the glistening apples on the tree behind her.

“Okay!” Best Pony squealed as she shot away.

Applejack sighed. “Round two.” She backed away from the tree and got a running start again, the wind blowing through her mane. She raised her forelegs to buck-

“What's this?” Best Pony appeared again, right in front of the tree. Applejack fell as she had before, making a loud thump.

“What's what?” Applejack groaned, rubbing her backside.

“This.” Best Pony held out a gardening tool with a long pole with several teeth at one end.

“That's a rake.” Applejack stated flatly, standing back up to buck.

“Okay!” Best Pony galloped away in a flash of colour.

“Round three.” Applejack backed away, pausing to be sure that no pony was coming from any direction to get in the way. She charged at the tree, but before she could even raise a hoof to buck, Best Pony was in her path, and Applejack tripped over her own forelegs and fell flat on her face.

“What's this?” Best Pony asked, now holding a small shovel.

“Mph.” Applejack grunted, her face still buried in the dirt.

Best Pony tapped Applejack on the head. “Need a hand, cousin?”

Applejack raised her head, spat out some dirt and finally answered. “It's a spade.”

“Are you sure?” Best Pony looked the tool over. “It looks like a small shovel.”

“That's what a spade is.” Applejack sighed, wiping her face off and standing up again.

“Why don't we just call it a small shovel?” Best Pony shook the spade, as if something would fall out of it or rattle around inside.

“Because it's a spade.” Applejack spat more dirt out. “We call a spade a spade around here. Y'know, element of honesty and all that?”

“Oh! I get it now! Thanks!” Best Pony charged back to the barn.

“Round-ah, forget it.” Applejack gave up on apple-bucking for the day and made her way to the barn where she knew Best Pony would be looking for more tools to ask about.

When she arrived at the barn, the doors were wide open, and tools had been thrown haphazardly onto the lawn. There was no visible order to any of it. Some piles were big, others were small. In some places, she had just stabbed a tool into the ground so it stood on end.

“Best Pony?” Applejack cautiously made her way to the barn. “What're you doing with all the tools?”

“Clearing up.” Best Pony stated from the hay loft where she was about to throw a pitch fork down from.

Applejack quickly ducked away with a small gasp. “I can see that. But how are we supposed to get everything back in if it's all out of sorts?”

“What?” Best Pony raised an eyebrow.

“How are we supposed to rearrange everything if you just have it all randomly thrown out on the lawn?” Applejack pointed a hoof at the outside.

“They are organized.” Best Pony nodded. “Better than before, in fact.”

“How?” Applejack eyed a stack of hay bales and chicken wire on top of buckets.

“Well.” Best Pony jumped down from the loft and landed softly and perfectly on the ground. “There's the pile of things that hold things.” Best Pony pointed to the pile Applejack had been looking at. “There's the pile of things that taste funny.” She pointed to a pile of bags, fertilizer, lawn mowers and rusty toolboxes. She went through several more strange and unnecessary stacks before arriving at a pile of shovels, trowels, hoes, and other similar tools.

“This seems to be the only one that kind of fits.” Applejack noted.

“This is the pile of things that look like other things.” Best Pony picked up a shovel and a trowel. “These look like spades. I call them big spade and little spade.”

“That's a shovel and a trowel.” Applejack groaned.

“But you said we call them spades here.” Best Pony whined.

“A spade's a spade, a shovel's a shovel, and a trowel's a trowel.” Applejack face-hoofed. “Look. You set up for the party, and I'll worry about keeping the tools organized. Okay?”

“Cool!” Best Pony squealed and gave Applejack her first Best Pony back-shattering hug. “It'll be just like the old days when I was teaching you to apple-buck.” Best Pony sighed. “Ah, the good old days.”

“Can we get back to work here?” Applejack looked towards the sky. “We're burning daylight.”

“Silly Applejack.” Best Pony giggled. “You don't burn daylight. Daylight burns you. Then you get an awful tan which becomes a sunburn and hurts a lot! Then, for the next week, you're sitting in bed and trying not to touch it, but it's just so hard not too, and it hurts even more!”

“Hold up, sugar cube.” Applejack put a hoof on Best Pony's mouth. “Less gab, more work, okay? We need to get this party together, don't we.”

“Of course!” Best Pony cheered. “But all work and no play makes Applejack a dull mare.” Applejack didn't get the reference, but Best Pony did, and started howling with laughter as her pink wings carried her back to the barn.

“This'll be a long one.” Applejack groaned as she got to work sorting out the various tools.

Author's Note

This wasn't a very long one as far as I can tell, but there is still more to come, so I hope you enjoy this chapter.
-Cog out.