Chapters

Scissors and Escargot
You Are What You Eat Pt. 1
You Are What You Eat Pt. II
If You Can't Stand The Heat...
A Spoonful Of Forgiveness
Heat, Simmer, Serve
Centerfold

Scissors and Escargot
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

Scissors and Escargot

I think…I need…to get in…better shape… This was the silent lament of the grey-coated, black-maned earth colt as he struggled under the weight of a large picnic basket balanced precariously across his back. He panted as he trudged step by step in the general direction of what he assumed was the one and only schoolhouse in Ponyville.

In hindsight, Peppermill admitted he might of gone just a tad overboard in filling the basket with all sorts of sandwiches, salads and a massive thermos of iced tea. While he knew fully well that he was going to feed, at the very least, four hungry young ponies he knew his cooking tended to result in seconds and thirds more often than not. But in making sure everypony would have their fill, he did not take into account the logistics of weight. Nor did he allow himself to think about how…out of shape he really was.

I guess…strength…doesn’t get…absorbed. Peppermill had been the guest-slash-honorary kinfolk to the Apple clan of Ponyville for a few months now. While the young colt was sensible enough to know that just because a city-bred pony found himself on a farm did not equate to a sudden increase in strength and stamina, he didn’t stop him from wishing for a few extra muscles.

Eventually he reached the point of no returns, or at the very least the point where his body got to out-vote his mind and good intentions. With comical slowness his legs slowly spread out at four separate angles and he found himself laying in the dust on the edge of the path he was on. He lay on the ground like this for a few minutes, trying hard not to cry out in frustration. Peppermill disliked showing too much emotion nowadays, but even he had his limits.

“B-bother…” he grumbled as he shrugged the basket off of his back. No longer pinned down, he got upright on shaky legs and gave the current source of his annoyance a dark glare. Once he was satisfied the inanimate object had absorbed enough of his wrath, he then turned to the task of deciding what options he had available to him.

He certainly was not the type to waste food, so simply emptying the basket was out, as was eating some of it himself. While few ponies would of looked down upon the colt feasting on his own food, Peppermill was firm in his belief that the cook did not eat until everypony else had been satiated. If…I only knew…how far I am…away from…the school. he thought. Then I…could decided…whether to go on…or head home.

rustle…rustle…rustle…

The grey colt’s ears perked up, and he gazed back behind his shoulder. There was nothing behind him but bushes.

rustle…rustle…

But it was clear something was moving around over there. Peppermill was not frightened, mainly because he lived by the belief that after having to deal with fire, the destruction of his home, the death of his parents and a mentally shattered older brother, there wasn’t much more left on Equstria that could faze him.

“You and your shortcuts…”

“It looked like a path…”

Colts? Peppermill did not doubt for a moment that there were young ponies on the other side of the bushes. But why would there be ponies there, when he himself was standing near a perfectly good path? His pondering on the situation was ended quickly when a head poked out from the bushes.

“Uh, Snips? There’s somepony here.” The unicorn colt, his aquamarine mane hanging over his eyes, spoke with a drawl that Peppermill couldn’t place.

“Don’t just stand there, hide!” A scratchy, high-pitched voice squawked out the command.

“Why?” questioned the orange unicorn.

“I was…wondering that too…” admitted Peppermill.

“Wait, do we know this guy?” Another head popped out of the shrubbery, somewhat chubbier in the cheeks but just as messy in the mane.

“No…” drawled the first colt.

“Well…I don’t…know either…one of you.” offered the grey earth colt. “So…we are…even.” The two unicorns took a bit of time to digest this reasoning, and Peppermill could only wait patiently until a decision was made. Finally, the shorter of the two pushed through the bushes and stood before Peppermill.

“You must be new to town. My names Snips, and this is my pal Snails.”

“Hiya…” chirped the taller unicorn as he stepped into view.

“I’m…Peppermill. How…do you do…”

“That name sounds familiar. Are you sure we haven’t met before?” questioned the one named Snips.

“No…we haven’t…”

“Uh…” Snips turned to his friend, a patient look on his face. Peppermill found himself looking at the taller colt in genuine fascination. Finally…

“Didn’t Applebloom say something about a guy named Peppermill?”

“Oh yeah…she did, didn’t she?”

“You…guys know…Applebloom?” A idea began to blossom in the grey colt’s mind, but he had more blanks to fill. The two unicorns seemed decent enough: the one called Snails seemed to be a bit…slow on the uptake (not that anything was wrong with that), and he found himself feeling a sort of kinship with Snips and his interesting voice.

“Yeah…we go to school with her.” answered Snails.

“Really?”

“Uh…yeah…” Snips was beginning to feel a bit conspicuous at this point, as if he was expecting somepony to suddenly appear. His fidgeting and furtive looks around further convinced Peppermill he might be onto something. The fact that he had a year or more on the two of them in age might of sent the wrong message.

But Peppermill could use this to his advantage.

“Speaking…of school…” began Peppermill carefully, taking note of the wince from Snips at the offending word. “Shouldn’t…you two…be there…right now?”

“Yeah, about that…” began Snips, refusing to look the older colt in the face.

“We’re playing hooky.” announced Snails.

“Snails!” The long, drawn-out growl of his friend’s name indicated this wasn’t the first time this sort of thing must of happened.

“Well, we are…” responded Snails, sounding and feeling put upon.

“I…see…” intoned Peppermill.

“We have a really good reason!” insisted Snips. “Miss Cheerilee was going do make us do…ugh…division.”

“Ouch…” Peppermill suspected these two were not fans of schoolwork, but chose to show sympathy to them. He also chose not to mention he himself didn’t have nearly as much dread of this subject as they did. Most, if not all, of his learning came from his mother who taught him the basics herself. He knew some ponies frowned on home schooling, but his mother was quite insistent on it. She handled the basics while his father handled the specifics, in his case the art of cooking.

“Can’t do it if we aren’t there.” concluded the stubby unicorn, with a hint of pride at his cleverness.

“But…” began Peppermill carefully.

“But?” Snips gave the grey colt a wary look.

“What…about…tomorrow?” The unicorn colts looked blankly at him. “I’m…sure this…Miss Cheerilee…won’t be…pleased…with you two…when you go…back tomorrow. You…are going back…tomorrow, I mean?”

“Oh…yeah…” mumbled Snails.

“Oh man!” Snips was now in full panic mode. He grabbed at his friend by his long neck and shook it hard (Peppermill could of swore he heard the sound of something small rattling inside an empty space just then, but shrugged it off as hearing things) “We can’t play hooky twice in a row. I mean once is sort of ok, but twice! We’re doomed!”

“W-w-what d-do we d-d-d-do?” stammered a now dizzy Snails, his eyes rolling in their sockets as his friend threw himself onto the ground in defeat.

“A…last…meal.” answered Peppermill solemnly.

“What?” squeaked Snips, looking up from the ground at the grey colt. Peppermill motioned to the picnic basket beside him.

“Or…perhaps…a peace offering…”

***

“Geeze, what did you put in this thing anyways? Bricks?” complained Snips loudly as he struggled with the picnic basket on his back.

“I don’t think bricks are supposed to smell that yummy.” intoned Snails, keeping watch on one side of his friend to prevent the basket from slipping.

“No…just food. But…I may have…overdid it.” admitted Peppermill, walking on the other side of the short unicorn.

“You think?” muttered Snips.

“It’s…usually better…to have too…much than…too little…when it comes…to food.”

“Did you really make all of that yourself?” asked Snails for what might have been the sixth or seventh time. It seemed the two colts were not entirely convinced that all the food was a result of their new friend.

“Everything…in that…basket was made…by me.” repeated Peppermill calmly.

“Wow, that’s cool!” gushed Snails.

“Cool, but way too heavy. Come on Snails, it’s your turn!” demanded Snips. The orange colt gamely took the basket’s handle in his mouth and lifted it off of his friend’s back. Peppermill noted that the taller colt didn’t seem to have nearly as much trouble with the weight as he or Snips did. The three continued to walk in silence, until a red building could be seen growing on the horizon.

“Are you sure about this Peppermill? I mean, you don’t know Miss Cheerilee like we do.” Snips had been not nearly as accepting of Peppermill’s plan as Snails was. Peppermill highly suspected that he was exaggerating just a bit, given that his depiction of the school teacher contradicted with that of Applebloom and the other Cutie Mark Crusaders. Of course mused the colt these two probably spend a lot of time on her bad side.

But Peppermill had faith in his cooking and faith in the teachings he received from his late parents. Food, they told him, was a great tool. A well-crafted meal, presented with humility and sincerity, could work wonders even a herd of alicorns could not dream to achieve. He also liked to think that he had picked up (admittedly with great chagrin) certain…tricks from his lamentable older brother when it came to charm and manipulation.

Of course, he never had to deal with a strict teacher before…

As the three colts got closer to the building, the bell in the tower above rang out.

“It’s not…that late…is it?”

“Mmmph mmph mm…” mumbled Snails unsuccessfully around the handle of the basket.

“Naw, that’s just the first recess bell.” explained Snips. Sure enough, the bell had barely finished ringing before a gaggle of young ponies piled out of the school and spread out across the playground. It didn’t take long for him to spot a familiar red mane topped with a pink bow among the throng of ponies. But before he could call out, he suddenly felt Snips and Snails suddenly tense up and shuffle behind him.

“Miss Cheerilee…” moaned Snips. Indeed, steeping out of the doorway was an older mare that had to be the teacher he had been told about. Peppermill was about to remind the colts behind him to leave everything to him, when the teacher’s gaze fell upon the group and her initial smile was replaced by a mix of disappointment and anger.

“Snips! Snails!” she announced as she trotted over. “Where have you two been? You’ve missed the math lesson I had this morning…”

“Um…” squeaked Snips.

“Er…” moaned Snails.

“Good day…Miss Cheerilee…it is…a pleasure…to finally meet you.” Peppermill took a step towards the mare, and gave a small bob of his head. “My name…is Peppermill.”

“Oh yes. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Big Macintosh and Applebloom, for that matter.”

“I’m…honoured. And I…would like to…offer my most…sincerely apologies.”

“Apologies?” The mare tilted her head puzzled.

“I…am afraid…I am…responsible for…Snips and Snails…being unable…to attend classes…this morning.” The two colts in question gave each other nervous glances, while Cherrilee gave Peppermill an unconvinced look.

“I…had fully intended…to come here today…with a surprise for…Applebloom and…her friends.” began the grey colt, motioning to the picnic basket before him. “A little…lunch…for later today. But I…didn’t count…on the basket…to be so heavy. So…I had to…ask for some help.” By this time, Peppermill could see that Applebloom and the other Crusaders had noticed the commotion and were watching and listening from a discreet distance.

“Fortunately these two…” Peppermill had to give a small kick to Snips’ ample rump to get the two unicorns to stand up to attention. “…offered to help me out. Despite…knowing they…could get in trouble…for not being…in class…they selflessly…helped a stranger. You should…be very proud…of them.”

“So, your telling me that Snips and Snails offered to help you bring this picnic basket here, without needing to be bribed or anything?” Snails almost spoke up at this, until Snips had to forcefully jump on top of him to keep him silent.

“Well, I couldn’t…expect such…help without…payment. Believe me…there is plenty…of food for them…as well.”

“Hmmm…” The teacher eyed the collection of colts, then gave a nudge to the basket with a fore hoof. She frowned when she realized just how weighty the container was. She stared hard at the two unicorns, her expression unchanged despite the trickles of sweat and the silent pleas to Celestia to end the torment. She finally looked down upon Peppermill, who looked up at her with a sweet smile.

…

“Well, I must admit I am surprised…” started Cheerilee. Snips and Snails looked ready to burst into tears. “but very, very proud of you boys.” Snips and Snails could of melted into two puddles of relief, and Peppermill felt that niggling note of worry that his plan wouldn’t work evaporate.

“Of course…they have promised me…they will…do any homework…needed to make up…for what they missed.” The unicorns behind Peppermill flinched, but a quick glance from the grey Earth colt spoke volumes.

“Yeah, homework. No problem.” sighed Snips, deciding to cut his losses.

“Um…” The expectant noise from Snails drew the attention for the gathered ponies. For a few agonizing moments, they waited for whatever comment was coming. “Do we have to wait until lunch? Carrying that basket made me hungry…” This caused Cheerilee and Peppermill to laugh, while Snips only rolled his eyes.

“Unfortunately no. But I promise that I’ll make the rest of the morning easy for you two.” chuckled Cheerilee. She then turned to Peppermill. “Would you care to join us in class Peppermill? I’m sure we can spare a desk…”

“Well, I had…planned on…joining my friends…for lunch. But…this morning has…been so hectic…I think I’ll pass. I’m sure…that Applebloom…will return…the basket…at the end…of the day.”

“Very well. I’ll let you three say your goodbyes. But I expect Snips and Snails to come into the school immediately afterwards so I can get their homework assignments dealt with.” With that announcement, Cheerilee walked back to the school as Applebloom approached the colts.

“Wut in tarnation jes happened?” she demanded. “How come yer with these two Peppermill?”

“I…was bringing you…a little gift.” explained Peppermill. “But…it was…not as little…as I planned it to be.” The grey colt quickly explained what had happened with him and the unicorns, all the while Applebloom giving them a unreadable look.

“Well,” she said once Peppermill was finished. “I guess it was nice of you to bring us something’. And I guess it was nice of you two to help him.”

“Of course we helped him! He’s our pal!” replied Snips defensively. Peppermill blinked, and turned to the two colts.

“Really?” he said.

“Sure! You helped us out of a big mess. Or at least kept it from becoming a really big one. We owe you.”

“It’s nice to have another guy around…too many fillies…” This rather frank comment from Snails caused Peppermill and Snips to snicker and Applebloom to glare.

“Well…thank you. Now…I have…one more…thing I need…from you two.”

“Uh, we promise to do our homework.” drawled Snails.

“I…know you will. What I need…is to make sure…Applebloom…doesn’t hog…the cake. Her…sweet tooth…is as bad…as Applejack’s”

“What?!” bellowed Applebloom as Peppermill began a mad dash out of the schoolyard, leaving her fuming and his new friends trying to keep from laughing out loud.

Laughing out loud was something Peppermill had no issue in doing, all the way back to Sweet Apple Acres.

You Are What You Eat Pt. 1
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

You Are What You Eat Pt. 1

Sweet Apple Acres lived and breathed on routine. Normally should something unexpected force a change to that routine, the Apple clan could work around it. But there were a few things that would never be compromised.

One of those set-in-stone rules was cooking duty.

If Peppermill, the grey colt who was a proverbial wizard in the kitchen, had his way he would be head chef of the farmhouse. But it took some firm words and at least one solid smack across the hooves from a wooden spoon wielded by the elderly yet still capable Granny Smith to tear him away from the stove every once and awhile.

One of these rare events occurred one early afternoon as Granny Smith pondered what to make her hungry grandchildren (she willingly and happily included the black-maned colt as an honorary member of that group). Peppermill sat at his usual spot at the kitchen table watching and waiting, always intrigued by the elderly mare. Having no other blood relations to speak of, the idea of a “granny” amused him.

“One thing you’ll learn soon enough sonny,” warbled Granny Smith as she peering in the pantry, “on a farm you tend to go for amount of vittles rather than the kind. A good thing the younguns’ round here ain’t picky.”

“Yes…Granny” rasped Peppermill. The green mare hobbled to the cold box, and peered inside, muttering to herself. Meanwhile it was taking Peppermill a bit of self-control not to offer up meal ideas, lest he get another lecture about ‘respecting your elders’.

“Hmmm…a nice cream soup. Maybe with them potaters’ and some of them nice green onions AJ got from the market…” Granny Smith pulled out a bottle of milk with her two fore hooves and placed it carefully on the counter.

“Are you…sure that…is enough…milk?” queried Peppermill.

“Enough milk? Of course there’s enough milk…” Granny did a double, then triple-take at the glass bottle before her. She then leaned in so close that her snout nudged the bottle, peering into it’s milky depths. “Hmm…then again…” she grumbled.

“Maybe…some biscuits?”

“Nope, I’m fixin’ for cream soup and that’s what it gonna be. But it might hafta wait till tomorrow. I think Applejack is supposed to be checkin’ in with the herd in the mornin’ anyways.”

“Um…couldn’t you…just send…somepony to buy…some?”

“Ha, why bother goin’ to town when we can get it fresher and faster here?” cackled Granny Smith as she dug into the icebox again. Peppermill digested this statement for a moment or two. Then a look of wonder came across his face.

“You mean…from cows? Actual…cows?”

“Where else would you get milk sonny?” laughed the elder mare. When she turned to face the colt, her amusement faltered slightly. “Hold on. I suppose a city boy like yerself probably though you got milk from a store…”

“No…I know…about where…milk comes from.” responded Peppermill, slightly put-upon. “But I’ve…never seen…or met…an actual cow…before.”

“I guess you don’t get many cows in the big city huh?”

“My parents…believed very…strongly…that a good cook…should respect…where his ingredients…came from. They talked…about us all…taking a family…vacation to the country…to see a farm…that one of…Mom’s friends owned. It…never happened though…”

“Well, I ain’t about to let some youngun’ under mah roof go around not knowin’ where his food comes from. Ain’t right.” announced the green mare firmly. “First thing tomorrow yer going with AJ to meet the ladies. I expect you to be on yer best behaviour.”

“Really? Oh…of course…I will.” Peppermill was thrilled at the thought, so much so he was quiet through the entire process of making supper, much to Granny Smith’s relief. While she valued the occasional suggestion, she preferred to cook her way.

***

As promised, Applejack was more than happy to let Peppermill accompany her to where the cows stayed on the acreage. The orange mare had never seen the colt this excited before, though Peppermill was not one for exuberance. But despite his usual calm demeanour there was an unmistakable bounce in his step and a cheerfulness in his raspy voice.

“What…is the…proper…etiquette…for greeting…cows?” he asked as the two ponies made their way out of the farmhouse. “I…want to…make a…good impression.”

“Etiquette? I reckon’ that must be yer Canterlot upraising coming out.” chuckled Applejack. “As long as yer polite you’ll be fine. The only thing I ought at warn you about: whatever you do, don’t mention snakes.”

“Snakes?”

“Just mentionin’ the ‘s’ word is enough to send them ladies a’runnin’. And believe me sugarcube a cattle stampede is something you don’t want to be in the middle of.” Applejack noticed the look of uncertainty crossing the colt’s face, then gave him a kind nuzzle. “Don’t fret none sugarcube. The ladies are a decent bunch, and ah know you’ll charm them off their hooves.” Despite giving the mare a weak grin, Peppermill still felt anxious, more so when an unfamiliar building came into view.

Tucked away in one corner of Sweet Apple Acres sat the cow shed, where ‘the ladies’ (as they apparently preferred to be called) stayed when not grazing. The two ponies approached the wide open double doors, and Applejack called out.

“Howdy!” Peppermill winced at the loud yell, but then felt a tingle of excitement when a number of low voices from inside the barn responded.

“Howdy AJ!” Peppermill could sense movement in the dark building, and was rewarded when a large white and brown cow came sauntering out.

“It’s always goo-ood to see you AJ.” drawled the cow, smiling. “And whoo-oo is this handsome little fellow?”

“This here is Peppermill. Peppermill, this is Daisy Jo.”

“Good day…to you…Miss Daisy.” murmured the colt. He normally wasn’t as shy as this, but he was not expecting a cow to be this…big. She didn’t have the height like Big Macintosh did, but she was clearly twice as wide or more than an grown pony. Fortunately the cow was clearly amused by the colt, for she gave him a warm smile.

“Well aren’t you a sweet little thing. No need to be nervous deary, I don’t bite.”

“This is the first time he’s ever met a cow.” explained Applejack quickly. “He’s originally from Canterlot…”

“Oh, I see. Well, I hope to have met your expectations sweetie.” Peppermill seemed to relax slightly, but a nagging question kept wanting to force it’s way out. It was something he had always wanted to know, but he felt foolish and just a bit flustered to ask. But it bubbled inside until it burst.

“Does it…hurt…to give…milk?” It was the loudest volume Applejack had ever heard out of the grey colt, though it made her think inadvertently of Fluttershy. Despite herself she could not hold back a laugh, as did Daisy Jo. Peppermill sat there looking embarrassed and cross, staring down at the ground willing the red on his cheeks to fade.

“What’s all the commotion about Daisy?” A few more of the cattle poured out of the barn, and soon the mare and colt were facing a genuine herd of friendly bovine. It didn’t take long for a number of them to start oohing and ahhing over Peppermill. It made him think about how some of his older brother’s mare fiends tended to act whenever he was introduced to them.

It was one thing to have a pretty pony gush over you, but another to have some hefty yet pleasant cows that acted more like great aunts trying to pinch your cheeks with a cloven hoof.

…

And all Peppermill had wanted was to learn where milk came from…

***

Once the herd had gotten over their collective adoration of the colt, things went far more smoother. Questions were answered and Peppermill felt a certain amount of pride than he had succeeded in learning something. He also felt that his parents, had they been there, would have been proud of him. He even told Applejack this as the two had waved their goodbyes and headed back to the farmhouse.

“Well, ahm glad you learned somethin’ sugarcube. I guess I never thought about how somepony from the big city wouldn’t know about where their food comes from.”

“They…seemed nice. The cows…I mean. But…my cheeks…are so…sore.” Peppermill rubbed one of said cheeks with a fore hoof, while Applejack grinned.

“Heh, I guess them more…mature types tend to do that.”

“Huh…I don’t remember you…doing that.”

“Hey! I ain’t that old!” The orange mare glanced at the colt, but realized that she had been caught once again by Peppermill’s quick wit.

“In…any event…it was…definitely…an experience.”

“Say,” said Applejack, “do you know where eggs come from?”

“Um…chickens…I think…why?”

“Oh, just thinking out loud…”

To Be Continued…?

Mr. Merritt Sez: I fully admit this is a fluff piece and nothing more. But the next chapter to this saga will be better...promise.

You Are What You Eat Pt. II
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

You Are What You Eat Pt. II

One major advantage, Peppermill would admit if asked, about pretty much having nothing but the cutie mark on your flank to your name was it made moving around simple. As a result being given a rather nice offer to stay somewhere else required little to no advance preparation. This was what allowed the grey colt the chance to experience something far different than living on a farm (or a restaurant, for that matter).

“Are you…sure Fluttershy…is okay with…this?” he questioned Applejack for the seemingly millionth time that morning. He and the mare were inside one of the upstairs bedrooms of Sweet Apple Acres, once a guest room but now his official bedroom, as the colt brushed aside some loose strands of black mane over his eyes.

“Yes sugarcube. She is more than happy to let you stay with her for a few days.” answered Applejack. “I reckon a city colt like you might learn something, being around all of them critters she has.”

“And…chickens.”

“Yes, and chickens…” chuckled Applejack. This flightless fowl was, for all purposes, the main reason for this change of scenery for the colt. It had only been a week ago that Peppermill had the opportunity to meet his very first cow. This had started a crusade of sorts for Peppermill, who was determined to fill in the gaps in his knowledge of food and cuisine. If not for himself, then in memory of his late parents, for whom he gained his love of cooking.

It was Applejack that had approached him and explained about Fluttershy and her unofficial sanctuary for animals, domestic and wild. She had also added the tantalizing fact that the yellow Pegasus was one of the few ponies in the immediate area who owned chickens. Mind you, Fluttershy insisted that it wasn’t a case of ownership and more of a mutual arrangement. Either way, it would prove to be a major learning experience for the young chef.

Of course, one might argue that it could be a learning experience of another sort for Fluttershy.

***

“Oh dear…I’m positive I put it here.” This was the muffled comment coming from a closet in Fluttershy’s cozy cottage. The front half of her body was deep inside the space, while her rear stuck out into the living room. An occasional flick of her tail and flutter of her yellow wings betrayed her frustration to the numerous small animals gathered in the room. Most, if not all, of them were busy doing their own thing and paying little attention to their guardian. The only creature showing anything resembling interest was the white rabbit known as Angel.

The bunny in question sat in the middle of the room, thumping a foot impatiently on the floor. Fluttershy had been spending far too much time fretting over this coming visitor and not nearly enough on him, as far as he was concerned.

“Did I put it under here…or maybe…ah!” The rare exclamation from the soft-spoken mare was enough for some of the gather critters to faintly glance in her direction, but not much else. After a momentary struggle, the mare dragged a small box out of the closet by one flap in her mouth. One pulled into the center of the room, she opened it up fully revealing a large folded quilt. She removed the quilt and spread it over the floor. It was rather plain, being a deep blue rectangle of fabric and stuffing. But as far as the mare was concerned, it’s color was the only important factor.

“Blue is good for colts, right?” she asked out loud.

She got no answer, unless you counted the face palm from Angel.

***

The walk to Fluttershy’s cottage from Sweet Apple Acres was rather lengthy, given they were literally on opposite sides of Ponyville. This gave Applejack the time she desired to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. Ever since Peppermill had appeared in her life, she had developed a incredibly deep bond with him. She felt a connection to the colt, recognizing a parallel in their lives: the loss of parents. But the painful fact that Peppermill had no pony while she still had a strong family to rely on made her heart ache.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were getting motherly with him. This was a comment from, of all ponies, Big Macintosh that had struck the mare like a thunderbolt. Applejack was far too invested in the running of Sweet Apple Acres to concern herself at this time of her life for a relationship and all the things it could lead to. But she also could not deny that the desire to protect and care for this colt was powerful. So powerful, in fact, that it made the very idea of letting him go even into the care of a trusted friend make her stomach churn.

“…and make sure you are on yer best behaviour. Fluttershy ain’t much for loud noises and excitement, so don’t go botherin’ her with musical numbers and such.”

“I…don’t sing.” Applejack had been talking almost non-stop for the entire trip, laying down a rather impressive list of ‘do this, don’t do that”. Peppermill found himself a but annoyed at this, feeling that the orange mare seemed not to have much faith in his behaviour. He suspected it had to do with a story he had been told by the Cutie Mark Crusaders involving a previous sleepover that had resulted in chicken chasing and ponies being turned to stone. While he certainly was not the adventurous type, he still was not impressed by the silent implications.

“Well, I reckon as long as you listen to Fluttershy you’ll be just fine.”

“I…know I’ll be…fine. But…what about Fluttershy?”

“What do ya mean sugarcube?”

“Well…she didn’t…seem all…that sure…about this. I…don’t want…to make her…do something…she doesn’t want to.”

“In all due respect sugarcube, sometimes you shouldn’t take ‘um…maybe…ifin that’s okay with you’ too serious-like with that gal. She’s might sound like she’s not sure, but I know she will be happy to have ya.”

“I…guess so.” Not completely convinced, but not willing to set Applejack back onto a rant, the colt remained silent for the remained of the trip. Fortunately having to endure the constant orders from the orange mare made time go by quickly, and soon they reached their destination. Sitting just outside of the Everfree Forest was a cozy cottage surrounded by all sorts of gambolling and flitting critters.

“Wow…I’ve never seen…so many…animals…in one…place.”

“Eyup.” grinned Applejack as she and the colt approached the door to the cottage. Applejack knocked with a forehoof. “Fluttershy? It’s me an’ Peppermill…” The door swung open, revealing a bored looking Angel holding it open. Beyond him was a rather puzzling sight.

“Oh, um…just a minute…” In the middle of the room was Fluttershy, hovering over a large box trying (and failing) to stuff a large blue quilt into it. The yellow mare had been trying for the last half an hour to stuff the blanket into the box, but was having no luck. She was now pouncing on top of it with all four hooves, but it always managed to spill out over the sides. For some reason Peppermill had a vivid memory of watching a pot of pasta sauce boiling over onto the stove back in the kitchens of his home in what seemed ages ago.

“Um, would you believe I pulled this quilt out of this box a few minute ago?” asked Fluttershy sheepishly. All Applejack could do was put a hoof to her face, while Peppermill cocked his head in puzzlement.

***

“I…think you’ll…like this. Fresh herbs…always make…a big difference.” Once the initial awkwardness had passed, and Applejack had finally tore herself away from his side, Peppermill had settled into the familiar role of ‘guest with benefits’. In his mind, it was fundamentally wrong to accept the generosity of another without reciprocating in kind. And since the colt’s bread and butter (and Celestia only knew how much amusement he got out of that particular figure of speech) was cooking, it was pretty much a given he would be making dinner for the two of them.

“This is very kind of you Peppermill.” admitted Fluttershy, watching the colt move about the kitchen with a grace and confidence that she envied. “But you don’t have to go to all this trouble. After all, you are only staying here for a few days.”

“Just saying…’thank you…for letting me…meet your chickens’…won’t cut it. Besides, if I didn’t…get a chance…to cook…at least once…I’d go…batty. Um…no offence.” This comment was directs to a small house-like contraction in a darker corner of the kitchen where three big eared bats peered sniffing at the smells coming from the stove.

“The chickens, yes…” Peppermill had been stirring a pot of what was to be a sauce for a plate of pasta (the image of the boiling sauce from earlier in the day having brought on a craving) when his brain registered the hitch in Fluttershy’s already halting speech. He slowly turned to face her, the wooden spoon still clenched in his mouth. Whether it was the questioning look or the tomato red drips falling onto her clean kitchen floor, the yellow Pegasus gave one of her normal squeaks and shrank away. But she did manage to pull herself together enough to explain.

“Well, you see a couple of days before Applejack came to me about all this I got…well, more like I was given…a rooster.”

“A…rooster. That’s…a male chicken, right?”

“Yes. Well, this rooster wasn’t given to me because I needed one. He was given…well, because…”

“Yes?”

“Because…”

“Yes?”

“Well, he seems to have a little bit of a problem with…um…males.”

“Roosters…are…territorial?”

“No, well yes a little, but that’s not what I mean…” squirmed Fluttershy. “It seems Alphonse, the rooster that is, used to belong to another farm in the area. But then he started acting out and they asked me to see if I could help.”

“I’m…not sure…I follow. Besides, I’m…just a kid. I…doubt a rooster…would see me…as a threat.”

“I really hope so. But just to make sure I am going to have to ask that you do everything I say when we see the brood tomorrow.” The pastel Pegasus tried to sound firm, but it was clear she needed a bit more practise. Fortunately Peppermill was far more relieved that she wasn’t going to change their plans too dramatically. He gave a nod and went back to his sauce, while Fluttershy silently scolded herself. Nothing will go wrong, nothing will go wrong, dear Celestia I hope nothing goes wrong.

***

The next morning came, and Fluttershy woke up from a reasonably sound sleep. Reasonable, until she heard the unmistakable crow of the rooster outside her cottage. Her blue eyes snapped open as a stab of panic pierced her brain. It took a few minutes of deep breathing to focus herself enough to crawl out of her bed. The fact that she was in her own bed and not on the small couch downstairs was part of the trouble. Her mind went back a few hours…

“So…where am I…going to…sleep, Fluttershy?” The evening meal had come and gone and the grey colt had watched with genuine fascination as the yellow Pegasus had tended to the soon-to-be-sleeping and nocturnal critters with equal care and attention. The most the city-born pony knew of animals was dogs, cats, the occasional squirrel and the dreaded crows that his father would curse about when they got into the garbage bins outside the back of the restaurant. But the sheer variety of creatures that seemed to go in and out of Fluttershy’s cottage amazed him. Add to this the fact that all of them clearly held the shy pony in high regard made him feel rather proud to know her.

“Oh, you’ll be sleeping in my bed.” explained the mare as she waved goodbye to some small birds as they flew out the window.

“Your…bed?”

“I’ll be sleeping on that, down here.” She motioned to a small couch where Angel was currently holding court over some other small animals. The colt peered at the couch, then glanced upwards seemingly through the ceiling to where he vaguely assumed the bed was.

“Hmm…no, I…don’t think so.”

“Pardon?” blinked Fluttershy.

“Fluttershy…there is…no way…I am going…to make you…give up your…own bed…just for me.” Peppermill approached the couch and once Angel grudgingly hopped off, hopped onto it himself. “I fit…just fine…here.”

“Um…” Fluttershy bit her bottom lip unhappily, seemingly torn between wanting to extend her famous kindness regardless and bending to the will of yet another pony.

“Fluttershy…it’ll be…fine. I…promise.” insisted Peppermill. “Besides…being this…close to the…kitchen…will make it…that much easier…come the morning. I can…get a head start…on breakfast.”

“Breakfast…” murmured Fluttershy. While she wasn’t the type to gush, she had thoroughly enjoyed having somepony make her a meal for once, and Peppermill’s cooking was on a level beyond anything she could do herself. As selfish as it appeared, she had been looking forward to a few high class meals without having to lift a hoof. Now fully awake, and her trepidation of dealing with the colt’s chicken fixation momentarily forgotten, she crept downstairs.

The first thing she noticed was the silence. Sure, it tended to be rather quiet in her abode at the best of times but she would of expected some sort of noise of the colt being in her modest kitchen. Instead, it was silence that met her as she carefully went down the stairs. Not to mention the lack of delicious aromas wafting through the house. Willing herself not to be overly concerned, she crept towards the couch where Peppermill had spent the night.

She found herself smiling softly at the sight of a colt-sized lump under a small blanket on the couch (she had decided to give the large blue blanket from earlier as a gift, and Peppermill had settled on the simple yellow sheet that rested over the back of it). She stepped lightly to one end of the couch and whispered.

“Peppermill? It’s morning.” When she got no real response, she frown and peered harder. She gave a small knicker at the realization that hit her. What she had assumed was Peppermill dark mane sticking out from one end of the couch was, in fact, his tail. She crossed around to the opposite side of the make-shift bed, and her smile widened. Just peeking out from under the blanket was a grey snout, snoring softly. The mare gently lifted the blanket a little bit and murmured in his ear. “Peppermill?”

The colt gave a mumble, and his dark eyes blinked awake. Waking up to a pretty blue-eyed mare was not something the young colt was familiar with (green eyes and freckles was something else entirely). So one could reasonably forgive Peppermill for being a little confused.

“…Applejack?”

“No, it’s Fluttershy.”

“Fluttershy…right…” The colt blinked a few more times. “Wait…is it…morning?”

“Yes, it is.”

“…”

“…?”

“Huh…I…rarely…sleep in. This couch…is surprisingly…comfy.” Peppermill yawned and rolled over, managing not to fall in a heap on the floor. “I’m sorry…about that. I was planning…on breakfast.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I usually tend to make sure all my little friends are ok before I eat in the morning. As soon as I finish in here we can go out to the henhouse.” Peppermill, still half-asleep merely nodded his agreement. It was rather impressive to watch the yellow Pegasus work her own special magic: it made the colt think back to some of the fairy tale stories his mother would read to him way back when.

The various critters that tended to use Fluttershy’s living room for their own use all began to stir, and the Pegasus tended to each and every one of them. She was so kind, so caring, so motherly…

…

Peppermill was grateful that her attention was elsewhere, because she probably would of been concerned by the sudden paling of the colt’s cheeks as a powerful flood of memories began to overwhelm him. The overpowering urge to get out of the house grew too much, and he quickly but silently crept into the kitchen and into the backyard.

Once outside in the crisp morning air, Peppermill felt better. He hadn’t felt this emotional in a long time and it bothered him. He silently made a note to look into this at a later date, for at present he had something far more interesting to deal with. Sitting before him was a chicken coop (he knew this was the right term for it because he had researched it with Twilight Sparkle) Essentially a specifically chosen area of space enclosed in a wire fence just high enough to keep the fowl it was intended to contain from escaping. A long wooden water trough sat along one side of the square area, but the dominating feature was the coop itself.

Huh…I guess…Applejack was right…about chickens…not needing…anything fancy. It appeared to be a small, squat building with a ramp leading into a chicken-sized doorway. It wasn’t until he heard the soft clucking from inside that his expression brightened. The problem was that he could clearly hear his goal, but he couldn’t see any chickens in the yard.

“No…rooster…” he rasped quietly, looking all around. Deciding that he could afford to try and get a closer look without Fluttershy around, he carefully approached the locked gate to the yard. He pulled open the latch with his mouth, opened the gate just enough to squeeze in and locked it behind him. Applejack…would be proud.

As the colt pondered his next move, a feathery figure perched on top of the coop stirred. It’s black feathers allowed it to blend in just enough the roof of the structure that only somepony actually looking for it would of seen it. It peered down at the intruder with beady eyes and an expression of distaste and hatred that only an avian could manage with a beak.

“I think…I can fit…my head…in there.” announced Peppermill to the empty air. He took a step towards the coop.

There was a squawk…

…a sudden chill up the colt’s spine…

…a cloud of black feathers…

…a silent scream…

***

“There you go Mr and Mrs Sparrow, this should fill you little one’s tummies…” Fluttershy had placed a small amount of cooked, un-sauced pasta onto the window sill. While it was not worms, she knew that it would do just as well for the growing chicks that nested just outside the cottage.

The fact that she had never been able to stomach the thought of handling worms in her mouth notwithstanding.

“Ok Peppermill, I’m finished.” she announced. But when she turned around, she discovered she was the only pony in the room. She was about to consider a search when she felt a tug at her mane. Looking down she found Angel emphatically pointing to the kitchen. Raising an eyebrow, she went inside the kitchen to find…nothing. She was about to politely thank Angel for his ‘help’ when he tugged harder and began to thump on the back door with a foot.

“He went outside? Oh dear…” Fluttershy’s initial panic was heightened when the unmistakable crowing of a rooster erupted from outside. With a yelp of distress the Pegasus bolted out the door. She raced straight for the chicken coop, but stopped suddenly in utter confusion at the sight before her.

A few of her hens were peeking out of the henhouse, while two familiar members of her flock were outside. Her best egg producer Elizabeak stood clucking crossly at a mid-sized black rooster. Alphonse, the rooster, strutted up and down the length of the overturned water trough radiating smugness. There was no sign of Peppermill, which was enough to add another layer of panic to the mare. It was only when she got closer that she spotted something familiar peeking out from under the wooden trough.

It was the tip of a black pony’s tail.

With a quick flap of her wings the mare hopped over the fence towards the gathering brood. Alphonse immediately took off to one corner of the yard while Elizabeak tilted her head Fluttershy and clucked softly. The mare carefully pushed at the upturned trough with a fore hoof.

“Peppermill?” Sure enough, huddled under the trough was a very wet colt. She slowly pulled himself out into the open, his legs and belly covered in mud and shivering. Fluttershy was about to embrace him and apologize profusely when she noticed something…off. It took only a moment for her to realize that the trembling from Peppermill was not from the chilly water. It was the shaking of anger. The colt’s dark eyes blazed as he glared at the rooster across the yard.

“Stupid…rooster…” snarled the colt.

“Buc-kaw!” replied Alphonse. Before Fluttershy (or Elizabeak, for that matter) could respond, pony and chicken charged one another and began to wrestle. The chickens in the coop immediately ducked back inside while Elizabeak huffed in exasperation. Fluttershy was still as a stone, watching the two animals battle it out. A slow build up of annoyance grew in her as colt and rooster brawled in front of her. Finally, her last nerve frayed, she spoke.

“Enough!”

To any other pony or critter, it was a normal speaking voice. But to those who knew Fluttershy, it was the equivalent of a scream. Peppermill and Alphonse, who second ago were locked in a angry clutch, now held each other in shock as the mare loomed over them. Her blue eyes blazed down on them, and it felt like it was piercing straight through them.

“The…Stare?” whimpered Peppermill (he had heard stories from Applebloom and her friends about this ability the shy Pegasus mare used in situations like this, but words did not give it justice when you were on the receiving end of it).

“Cluck…” squeaked Alphonse, pretty much the same thoughts running through his head with Applebloom being replaced by Elizabeak.

“I am ashamed at both of you! Alphonse, you know fully well you can’t just go after someone just because they are male. You don’t have to constantly try to prove yourself, and you don’t need top protect your hens from threats that aren’t there. If you keep this up no chicken is going to want to be around you and you’ll be lonely.” The rooster in question could only give a tiny chirp, unable to tear his gaze off of the blue eyes burning into him.

“And you!” Fluttershy now turned her attention onto Peppermill, who blanched. “I told you very clearly that you were not to go to the chicken coop without me. I know you were anxious and wanted to see them, but that is now excuse to disobey. You wouldn’t be all muddy and scratched up if you had listened.” peppermill didn’t dare take his gaze away from the mare, so he assumed that she was being honest about the scratches.

“Now, I want you two to apologize to each other right now!” Colt and rooster pried each other off of themselves, and stood morosely before each other. Finally Alphonse gave a series of clucks that Peppermill assumed was the chicken version of ‘I’m sorry’.

“I’m…sorry.” conceded Peppermill, kicking at some gravel in the yard.

“Now…” Fluttershy’s voice returned to it’s normal soft self. “I suppose it wasn’t the best of introductions, but I guess it’s better late than never. Peppermill, this is Elizabeak. She is the best egg layer I know.”

***

The rest of the day went remarkably smooth as Fluttershy allowed Peppermill to ask her anything he wanted to know about chickens and their eggs. It seemed rather straight forward and not as fascinating as it as seemed at first glance. It wasn’t that the colt was ignorant; he knew that eggs were the way chickens were born and that it usually took a male and a female to get to the end result. Still, it might have been a bit better if there was more to it.

Still, he was satisfied with the answers he got. Plus he had some fun letting a number of fluffy balls of feathers crawl around and on him. Even a solemn colt like him was unable to stop smiling as he and the little chicks romped around the yard under the watchful eyes of Elizabeak and Fluttershy. Even Alphonse, who after have the Stare burned into him, managed to be sociable. Eventually the time came when the growling of empty bellies brought the playing to a close.

“I hope this helped you with your questions.” murmured Fluttershy as she escorted the colt back to her cottage.

“Yes…I can…honestly say…I learned something…new.” admitted Peppermill. “And…I’m very…appreciative…of everything…you’ve done for me.”

“Well, I’m very happy. I do have to ask though, what do you plan on doing next? I mean, surely you must have other questions about food to ask.”

“Hmmm…no. I think…I’m good…for now. I’d rather…think about…what I am…going to make…us for lunch. Anything…without eggs though. At least…for a little while.”

If You Can't Stand The Heat...
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

If You Can't Stand The Heat...

“…again.”

BURP!

WHOOSH!

“Gah!”

…

“…again!”

BURP!

WHOOSH!

“Nngg…”

…

“…again.”

“Ugh…I’m all burped out.” The purple baby dragon groaned as he slumped forward, his cheeks taking on the same green hue as his spines. He couldn’t bring himself to look over at the three large bottles of ginger beer he had consumed earlier. In fact, he silently promised not to look at another carbonated beverage for a long, long time.

“This…isn’t working…” groaned an equally miserable young colt, for slightly different reasons. He was sprawled flat on the ground, his ears flat against his skull and his teeth showing in a grimace of fear.

The idea on paper seemed sensible, downright scientific even. What better way to get over one’s fear than to face it. And for Peppermill the chef, what better way to get over his aversion to fire than facing down a fire-breathing dragon? Of course, the dragon in question was Spike; and his flames, while not nearly the same as the raging inferno that haunted Peppermill’s dreams, was still enough to put the colt into a panic.

“I need a break Peppermill. And water. I think I can taste my breakfast…” The two young males trudged over to some trees that surrounded the open clearing they had been using for the ‘treatment’ (Peppermill’s choice of words, not Spike’s). Spike flopped down, leaning against a tree and rubbing his sore throat. Peppermill paced back and forth, his mind racing.

“Whoever…heard of…a cook that…is afraid…of fire?”” growled the colt. He had been spitting out this bitter mantra for a full week, and Spike was understandably concerned.

“Maybe this isn’t the right way to go about this. I really think we should talk to someone. Like, a professional. Or at least Twilight. You’d be surprised what she knows about phobias and stuff like that…”

“That…would take…too long.”

“Why are you in such a hurry about this? There‘s more to this than just cooking, isn’t it?” Spike asked, frowning, The colt came to a stop, and gazed at the dragon with dark, flashing eyes.

“The…Ponyville…Annual Campout.”

“Oh yeah, that’s coming up isn’t it? I just about forgot…”

“It’s…the only thing…Applebloom…and her friends…have been talking…about lately.” Peppermill sat down on the ground, his mouth a grim line. “This is…some sort…of sleepover…?”

“Calling the Annual Campout a sleepover is like calling a Pinkie Pie party a small get-together.” laughed Spike. “Every filly and colt in town looks forward to it. It’s a big all-day celebration capped off with a cookout and sleeping under the stars. It…is…awesome!”

“Cookout…” That single word, spoken with such dark emotion brought Spike out of his euphoria in a hurry. “As in…cooking over…a campfire.”

“Well yeah, I…oh…right…” It finally dawned on the dragon what was truly bothering Peppermill. The colt had been working on widening his “culinary scope” (once again, his words) in recent months, and he had taken every opportunity he could to try new foods. It seemed the young colt had a metabolism to rival Pinkie Pie, for no matter how much he seemed to consume he never seemed to gain an ounce.

However, one rather critical cooking method and it’s respective dishes had been steadily yet regrettably avoided. Ever since Peppermill’s life had been turned upside-down, inside-out and heaved out a bucking window (another example of Peppermill’s vocabulary, one that he now only used mentally ever since he got his mouth washed out with soap when Applejack had eavesdropped on a rant) by his older brother using fire as his medium, it had been a uphill struggle. Even lighting a match to light one of the older style stoves common in Ponyville was enough to send the colt into a panic.

And Dear Celestia, how he loathed himself after he regained his composure after each and every breakdown…

“Seriously Peppermill, you starting to scare me. Usually when Twi gets that twitch in her eye it’s enough to give me the shivers. And I know that being this hard on yourself isn’t healthy…” Peppermill blinked once, shaking himself out of his inner monologue-slash-tirade. He managed a apologetic look to his scaly friend before sinking into depression once again.

“I bet…he’s laughing…at me…right now.”

“Come on.” Spike stood up and began to jog towards town. When he noted Peppermill was eyeing him critically, the dragon motioned with a claw.

“Where…are we…going?”

“We are getting you proper help, whether you like it or not.”

***

The fact that Twilight Sparkle seemed suspiciously prepared for the arrival of her number one assistant and the young cook never entered Peppermill’s mind. The fact that she had her mane tied in a tight bun, sporting a pair of studious glasses, levitating a clipboard and wearing a happy grin did stick rather firmly however. She…looks…nice…with her mane…like that. he thought, mentally making note of the odd feeling he got upon seeing her like that for later study.

“You…planned this, didn’t you?” he said out loud, looking at Spike with a dark look.

“No, I just was able to manage one last message to Twi while we were on our way here.” replied Spike innocently. “Now, if you excuse me I have a date with some stomach medicine.” As Spike trudged his way to the medicine cabinet Peppermill suddenly felt himself enveloped in a violet-hued aura. He was lifted off the floor and neatly deposited onto a couch that he was certain had not been there when he came into the library a few moments earlier. When the aura faded he was laying on his back looking up at Twilight, who looked down at him with a mix of concern and excitement.

“There is no shame in admitting you are afraid of something Peppermill. In fact, you’d be amazed at just how many ponies suffer from pyrophobia. Of course in your case you have a legitimate fear thanks to what your brother did…” The grey colt wondered if Twilight had been spending a bit too much time studying Pinkie Pie, for she had seemingly developed the party pony’s rapid-fire speech style.

“Twilight…what exactly…is going on here?” While he might have been appreciative of the unicorn’s willingness to help, she seemed just a bit too…prepared for his liking. He accepted that organization was one of Twilight’s major skills, but this flew a red flag rather high in the colt’s mind. Sure enough, his reluctance to having his head shrunk threw a proverbial wrench into Twilight’s prattle.

“Well, you need some help and I’m…um…”

“How…did you know…I needed…or wanted…any help?”

“Err…magic?” The mare’s panicked glances towards the kitchen where Spike was frantically waving her into silence said volumes. Not bothering to hide his annoyance, the colt slid off the couch and stormed to the door. As he left he looked back over his shoulder at the mare and dragon.

“I…don’t want…any help. I can…do this…myself. I…have…to do this myself. I‘m not…going to let…him win!” And with that he slammed the door behind him. Silence followed once the reverberations of the door faded, and both Twilight and Spike sighed.

“Is that natural stubbornness, or did he pick that up from Applejack?” questioned Spike out loud.

“I think it might be a bit of both.” conceded the Element of Magic. “Either way, we need a new plan. I’m going to find Rarity, you see if Pinkie has any ideas.”

***

His mood as dark as his mane, Peppermill stomped down the street near the shopping district of Ponyville.

“Why couldn’t…Spike keep…his mouth….shut?” he grumbled. In the back of his mind he knew he had been short with Twilight and Spike. But he fully believed that this particular situation was something that he had to handle on his own. While he loved the Apple clan as his own surrogate family, and appreciated his new friends’ concern he felt this was something they shouldn’t get involved in.

Peppermill would admit afterwards that he did have an independent streak bred from learning his trade from his parents. For Peppermill, the idea of ‘too many cooks spoiled the broth’ were words to live by. Cooking didn’t work when everypony tried to offer their two bits on every single detail. A certain element of faith in the cook made things go smoothly, regardless of age or maturity.

“Just…because I’m…a colt…doesn’t mean…I need to…be babied.” Peppermill scowled at the ground as he stalked onwards, not realizing where he was going. It was only when he heard the noise that he stopped and looked up. He cocked his head, trying to track the source of what sounded like a high buzzing coming closer and closer. He turned his head slightly, noting that he had found himself just outside Sugarcube Corner. Before the gingerbread building could come fully into his vision, the sound raised in pitch and clearly was coming closer. A sudden, overpowering urge to run managed to get one foreleg to lift, before…

eeeeEEEEEEEEEEWHAM!!!

Peppermill had half expecting a snootful of dirt, after having been tackled into the ground by a pink blur. But somehow in mid-pounce he had been positioned in such a way that he instead had a faceful of pink, cotton candy scented mane. The fact that the mane was attached to a face that currently held a pair of baby blue eyes that were generating enough tears to spout twin waterfalls filled the colt with mixed emotions.

“Oh poor little Peppy! It’s so sad, all the wonderful, scrumptious fire-kissed treats you are missing out on!” The colt struggled fruitlessly in the grasp of the bubblegum pink mare as she wailed. “It’s all that meany mean pants Saltpeter’s fault! He turned you against toasted marshmallows…”

…

“…and?” prodded Peppermill through gritted teeth.

“And?” repeated Pinkie, the very slightest hint of a frown on her face.

“Just…marshmallows?”

“Um…drat…” The colt plopped with a damp splat onto the ground as Pinkie frantically peered at her outstretched forelegs. He noted that there were blue smears all over them, and the realization clicked in his head.

“You had…to write…it down?!”

“Well you got here so fast and I was in the middle of making cupcakes. I didn’t have a pen so I had to use food coloring. But give me a minute and I can…hey!” Peppermill had managed to pull himself out of the muddy ground’s grip and took off at a rage-fuelled gallop. Pinkie Pie watched him go, gave a half-hearted lick of her forearm, then brightened.

“DASHIE!” she yelled, racing off in a random direction.

***

Somehow Peppermill’s haze of anger had sent him back to the clearing where he and Spike had been earlier that day. The memory of that debacle only pushed the colt over the edge, and he took out his frustration of some trees. While not nearly as athletic as any of the Apple clan, he was pleased to see the amount of leaves and twigs raining down as he viciously kicked out with his hind legs.

The fact that he imagined his older brother’s evil grin on every trunk helped considerably.

He was so engrossed in his attack that he never noticed, for the second time that day, the sound of something coming at him high and fast. And instead of being slammed into the ground he found himself carried up so high so quickly it took his breath away. He was immensely glad that he recognized the strong forelegs of light blue holding him tight and a rainbow mane fluttering out of the corner of his eye.

“Rainbow…Dash?” he rasped, his voice lost in the wind. He realized that she was more intent on reaching her destination than conversation, so all he could do was enjoy the ride. Given Dash’s tendency to speed at the best of times it didn’t take long to arrive at her apparent destination. He made out a darker section of woodland, and a familiar yellow filly with a bright red mane and saddlebag standing on the path leading into the forest proper.

With a flick of her wings, the Pegasus slowed their advance and lowered their altitude until she could release the colt safely. Both Peppermill and Rainbow Dash touched down onto solid earth at the same time, though she did it with a bit more grace than the Earth pony. Once he had picked himself out of the dirt, he gazed at Applebloom evenly.

“A simple…’come meet…me here’…would of…worked.”

“Oh please,” came the answer from Rainbow Dash. “This way is much cooler.”

“Besides,” drawled Applebloom, “getting you here quick gives you less time to come up with a reason to go.”

“Your logic…is flawless…” muttered Peppermill sarcastically.

“Look, ‘ answered the filly, “first off I wanna apologize fer not realizin’ you might be afraid of fahr…”

“I’m…already not…liking where…this conversation…is going.”

“Second, ah think you’re making a big mistake trying to do this all on yer own…”

“It…doesn’t concern…anypony but me…”

“Uh, wrong…” quipped Rainbow. “Your friends are going to get involved whether you like it or not…”

“You need help Peppermill.” Applebloom held the colt’s gaze.

“I’m not…going to give…him the satisfaction…” began Peppermill crossly. But he found himself being cut off by Rainbow, who leapt up and over him to look him square in the eye.

“He who?”

“Yeah, Twilight said you were talking about a ‘him’…” agreed Applebloom. The colt glared at the two female ponies.

“I’ll only…answer if…you do the…same for me. How…in the heck…did you…hear about this…so quickly?”

“Heh, news gets around fast when it’s a small town.” grinned Rainbow. “Plus being the fastest flier in Equestria makes passing along messages a snap.” The grey colt grumbled for a moment or two, then gave a defeated sigh.

“I always…have the same…vision whenever…I see a flame: my…my brother standing…over me as…the restaurant burns. And…laughing…” Peppermill stared at his hooves, his heart heavy. He suspected that one day he might have to make this painful admittance, though perhaps not out in the middle of no where in front of a rather creepy look forest with a brash Pegasus and a filly only a year or two younger than him.

Within moments his misery turned to slight embarrassment as he found himself sandwiched in a hug between the mare and the filly. He gruffly squirmed out of their collective grasp, resulting in a slight chuckle from the mare and a full giggle from the filly.

“Like you didn’t enjoy that just a little…” snickered Rainbow in his ear, much to his mortification.

“All right,” Applebloom cleared her throat. “Enough of this. It’s time ah gave you this.” The filly reached into he saddlebag and removed a small bottle with her teeth. She set it upon the ground with great reverence and looked at Peppermill expectantly.

“Okay…I’ll bite…what is it?”

“I told Zecora about you and yer troubles. She would of come and given this to you herself but she was busy. She told me this here potion can take even the greatest of fears and wipe them clean from yer mahnd.”

“She actually came through? Twilight was going on about how a potion couldn’t do that.”

“It’s funny. I kinda thought that too. But Zecora said this would do the trick. Well, come on Peppermill, try it…”

“A potion…that can cure…fears…” The grey colt was not sure what to think of this statement. He grabbed at the bottle between his fore hooves and pulled the stopper with his teeth. A potent aroma wafted from the tiny vial, which made the mare and filly blink in surprise.

“Geeze, what the heck is in that?” demanded Rainbow.

“Dunno.” admitted Applebloom wrinkling her nose. Mare and filly both cringed ever so slightly when Peppermill tipped the vial and let it’s contents slide down his throat. His mouth twitched, then he glanced at his friends.

“I don’t…feel any…different.”

“Maybe it’s one of them slow-actin’ potions.” offered Applebloom.

“Should we…I dunno…test it or something?” questioned Rainbow Dash.

“Hmmm…I think…I know….just the place…to test this…” Peppermill said, his expression unreadable.

***

Somehow the fact that the Ponyville Annual Campout was the very next day after Peppermill had received and imbibed the healing draught never entered Applebloom’s mind. All that really mattered was that she was going to enjoy the day with all of her friends, including her honorary brother Peppermill.

Despite her asking on a constant basis throughout the day in between all of the various activities, Peppermill continued to give her the same answer: ‘we’ll wait…until suppertime’. Until then she, the other Crusaders and the colt enjoyed the day. But the yellow filly couldn’t stop the nagging concern as the sun began to set late in the day.

As the voracious colts and fillies piled into the virtual banquet prepared by the older volunteers, Applebloom lost track of Peppermill in the mob. More than once she almost upset her plate of food trying to spot the colt. Eventually she resigned to her meal, sitting with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo where two tents were set up. As she ate she kept herself amused by watching the unicorn and Pegasus debate (or argue, to be perfectly frank) how the sleeping arrangements would be set.

“Look, it really simple. There are two tents and four of us. Two to a tent.” explained Scootaloo.

“But…it’s three girls and a boy. That…that can’t be right…” mumbled Sweetie, squirming.

“We out number him. And besides I highly doubt Peppermill would try anything. Seriously, I think you’ve been reading too many of those novels you sneak out of Rarity’s room. I’m pretty sure they are made up anyways…” grumbled Scootaloo.

“So who is gonna share a tent with Peppermill?” asked Applebloom.

“Me!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle.

“No, me!” snapped Scootaloo.

“Me!”

“Me!!”

“Me!!!”

“Listen girls, have any of you actually seen Peppermill lately? I didn’t see him when everypony was dishing up.”

“Um…I think he was one of the first to get something to eat.” admitted Sweetie.

“I’m pretty sure I saw him over by the big firepit they were using. Whatever that stuff he got from Zecora must of worked.” piped up Scootaloo.

“Hmm…” Applebloom set her plate aside and headed in the direction indicated. But she then stopped, went back to where her friends were about to go back into their shouting match, leaned in and spoke in a firm tone.

“And fer the record Peppermill is sharing mah tent…got it?”

“Um…right.” managed Scootaloo, who had made the mistake of looking the filly in the eye when she spoke. The Pegasus might have been the tomcolt of the group, but even she knew better than to cross the apple filly when she used that tone of voice. Sweetie Belle simply nodded frantically. Satisfied, Applebloom went in search of the colt.

***

Night came rather quickly during this time of year, and it wasn’t long before Applebloom could see more and more small fires being lit in the field where the campout was held. While there was still enough sunlight to see by, she managed to reach where one of the main campfires was situated, where any of the ponies taking part in the campout could commune and enjoy a toasted marshmallow or five. And sure enough, kneeling in the grass staring into the flickering flames was Peppermill.

“There you are…” said Applebloom as she knelt down beside the colt, who gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “How are ya doing?”

“Well…the tremors…aren’t so bad…” he began, but he clamped his mouth shut in a grin at the dark look he received. “I’m kidding…”

“You ain’t nearly as funny as you think you are…” grumbled Applebloom.

“In all seriousness…it’s not nearly…as bad…as I’ve been. The urge…to run…is there but…not enough…to overwhelm me.”

“Maybe that potion is one of them ‘take it every time’ sort of things, like medicine…”

“It’s not…bad…for…clove oil.”

“Reckon so…wait, what?”

“Clove oil…you know…oil made from cloves. They use…it in…breath fresheners.”

“What in tarnation are you talkin’ about?”

“The potion…that Zecora made. It’s nothing but…clove oil.” Applebloom puzzled over this for a moment, then gave a look of alarm at her friend.

“But, if that potion didn’t do anything, then how…?”

“First off…I knew it…was just…clove oil…the moment I…opened the bottle. I…drank it…just to keep you…and Dash from…getting upset. I admit…I was puzzled…why your friend…would give me…clove oil, but…I think I know…why.” Peppermill placed a hoof on Applebloom’s shoulder, seeing she was getting more and more agitated.

“Surely…you must of…heard stories…about supposed…magic potions…that turned out…to be fake. It always…turned out….the potion…was never needed. That the….bravery or…whatever was…inside them…the whole time. Well, I think…that was…the case…with me.” Peppermill looked into the fire as the flamed dances and sparked.

“I told…you about the…nightmares…about my brother. Well, I…didn’t mention…how he also…claimed no pony…would help me…unless they…wanted something from me. That they…only would help…me for what…I could give them, not…out of…kindness.”

“Horseapples!” snapped Applebloom. “That’s a lie!”

“I know…at least…I know now.” sighed Peppermill. “I guess…I should of…know better to…believe my brother…even in a dream. But I did…until it finally…hit me after you…gave me…the ‘potion’.”

“Ah still don’t get it…”

“A perfect stranger…willing to…give me help. Even if…the help…was nothing more…than a subtle…hint to…have some…faith in…my friends. You wanted…to help me…because you cared…and not…because…you wanted something…from me. I…apologize…for thinking…that way.” Peppermill put on his best apologetic face, and was rewarded by a tight hug from the filly.

CRACK!

“Gah!” yelped Peppermill as a log settled into the flames, making him jump. Applebloom looked at him in concern.

“I’m…fine. I’m not…completely cured. But…I’ll get better.”

“Well, you’ll have a whole year to get better.” smiled Applebloom. “Come on, we should head to our tents while we can still see our hooves in front of our faces.”

“Sure…” responded the colt, but once he was on his hooves he looked thoughtful. “One thing…”

“Hmm?”

“Who…am I sharing…a tent with?”

FIN

A Spoonful Of Forgiveness
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

A Spoonful Of Forgiveness

Three months.

Ninety days.

It was a time period that almost every school-aged foal in Ponyville waited with baited breath every year.

The summer holiday.

No more lessons, no more books, no more Miss Cheerilee’s dirty looks

But for one particular filly, this time frame was going to be the changing point in her young life.

Silver Spoon, heir to the second biggest fortune in Ponyville, would have been willing to trade her sizable weekly allowance for those precious three months to come sooner. It wasn’t because she was one of the type that dreaded the perceived tedium of education. In fact, few of the other fillies and colts knew that she was academically one of the top students only matched by the budding candy maker Twist.

It was, she would admit sadly, because of her ‘best’ friend.

Yes, she was the best (and only) friend to Diamond Tiara who herself was heir to the largest fortune in town. Yes, the two seemed attached to the hip especially when it came to lording over the ‘common’ ponies Diamond Tiara seemed to loath. But even the grey filly with the long white braided mane had to admit that there was only so much of her friend’s grating personally she could take before it drove her round the bend.

Silver Spoon, contrary to popular belief, was not a bad pony. She certainly wasn’t a natural bully, unlike Diamond Tiara who seemed to revel in the claim. But it was an impossible task to say no to her only friend when she got it into her head to prove yet again her superiority. And despite claims made, she hated the fact that she more often than not was seen as a ‘yes mare.’ or ‘Diamond Tiara’s sidekick’.

But the summer holiday, or to be specific this summer holiday things would change.

And it would all start on the day Diamond Tiara, as she did every summer holiday, said her goodbyes.

Every summer Diamond Tiara would go with her parents to their holiday home practically on the other side of Equestria. As a result it meant that for ninety precious days Diamond Tiara could not dictate what Silver Spoon should do on a almost daily basis. It also meant that she was no longer expected to agree with everything Diamond said or did with blind loyalty, especially when she disagreed it with immensely. In short, she could be her own filly for once.

And she had a lot of fences to mend and bridges to rebuild after being burned to ashes by Diamond.

She went through the motions of seeing her friend off and being grateful for whatever little trinket that Diamond would get her as a souvenir of her trip. She waved as the train pulled away, with Diamond waving from her family’s personal car. She even squeezed out a tear or two for extra oomph, just to placate Diamond’s sizable ego.

And she left a sizable dust cloud the second the train was out of sight…

***

Silver Spoon’s eyes sparkled and her mind was bursting with ideas on how to improve her tarnished image with her school mates. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, given that some were just as good as Diamond was at holding grudges. But she had a plan, and that plan centered around the blank flanks…

…

“Ugh!” The grey filly winced and gave herself a solid smack in the forehead. This was exactly the sort of thing that she had been dreading. She had been playing the part of the bully for so long she sometimes couldn’t get out of the mindset. If she wanted to prove that she was not Diamond’s shadow, she needed to start getting her mind in the game.

And if she was going to make a life-altering change, she was going to go full throttle and take the bull by the horns.

Or perhaps a Pegasus by the wings.

Silver Spoon wandered along the various carts that made up the Farmer’s Market in Ponyville. During the same summer months when school was out, the various producers in and around the town would set up carts of their goods for purchase. The filly, if given half the chance, would of camped out at the market every day savouring the smells and tastes the market offered.

Some ponies seemed to think that the filly’s cutie mark, an actual silver spoon, was related to her financial position. It usually took her an immense amount of self-control not to scream Being rich isn’t a talent! whenever this happened. The symbol of an exquisite eating utensil actually referred to the filly’s rather impressive gourmet tastes. She was a food connoisseur of high rank, though few knew of it. While her parents might not of had a problem with it, she knew she could never tell Diamond Tiara her goal in life was to be the greatest food critic in Equestria.

She always shook her head (in private, of course) at how Diamond could be so narrow minded sometimes. To her, farm fresh produce beat out all of the expensive cuisine that was shipped to her mansion on a daily basis. There was only so much decadence a pony ought to stomach before getting bored, if they were lucky. There was just so many amazing flavours and tastes to enjoy to settle for the supposed ‘best’.

Of course, Silver Spoon would admit that sometimes you had to watch yourself when dealing with some of the food growers that came to town during these months. There were always some ponies that considered the Farmer’s Market to be a quick source of bits, and had little problem with being less than honest about their wares. The though that some pony would willingly fib about the quality of their food just to pry a few more bits from another annoyed the filly immensely.

But she wasn’t going to dwell on that. She was on a mission, and she was going to succeed come heck or high water. This detour through the market was nothing if not a boost to her spirits and a sure fire way to ’accidentally’ bump into any number of colts or fillies she needed to make amends with.

The irony that the last coherent thought she would have for a considerably long time would be ‘bumping into some pony’ was lost to time.

A basket of impressive beet greens had caught the young filly’s eye as she trotted along the path between the stalls. That moment of attention taken off the path was all that was needed for her to bump solidly into something. He glasses were knocked askew on her face and she staggered back in mild panic at all the fuzzy blobs in her vision. She had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping out a Diamond Tiara-esque comment about ponies not getting out of her way. Instead, she decided this could be as good of any time to start making proper friends.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where…I…was…going…?”

The first thought that came to the filly was I don’t recognize this colt. The next was Wow, I`ve never seen a colt quite like this before…

“That’s…quite all right. I…should of…made room…for passing ponies…”

The third thought that lodged itself quite firmly into Silver Spoon’s mind was quite simple:

Wow…

***

Sunsets tended to be quite impressive at Sweet Apple Acres. They also provided the perfect opportunity for reflection on the simple things in life.

Sunsets also were one of the few times of the day when Big Macintosh could afford a few minutes of rest for the daily grind that made up his life. Of course, in recent times it also gave him the opportunity to bond with the young colt that had become as close to an actual little brother to him. And so the red stallion and the grey colt sat under one of the larger trees, watching as Celestia’s orb pushed past the horizon.

“I…met a…new filly today.”

“Hmm…”

“…”

“She has three wings…”

“…”

“…wut?”

“I…knew it.” snickered Peppermill. “You…weren’t paying…attention.” Big Mac gave a harumph, and nudged the colt with a fore hoof hard enough to knock him over. Peppermill immediately sat back up, still chuckling.

“Seriously though…I did…meet one. But…there might…be a problem.”

“Since when is meeting somepony new a problem?” rumbled the red pony.

“Well…her name is…Silver Spoon.”

“Hmmm…that name does sound familiar…”

“As in…’Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon’…” Peppermill carefully watched the stallion’s face. Sure enough after a moment a small frown crossed Big Mac’s face.

“Reckon I get it now…they’re the ones Applebloom goes on about. You’d think those two were the second comin’ of Nightmare Moon.”

“I know…Applebloom would…have a fit…if she found out. Especially since…”

“Since?” prodded Big Mac.

“Well…I enjoyed…meeting Silver Spoon. She…didn’t act…at all like…how Applebloom…said she might. She’s smart…funny…and she knows…a lot about…cuisine.” Peppermill decided to not mention that he thought the filly was quite pretty, since he suspected it would make it sound like he was a bit too into her.

“And being an Apple, mah littlest sis is too stubborn to start thinking otherwise about one of her worst enemies…”

“So…what do…I do?” Colt and stallion sat there in their thoughts after this question. Big Mac found himself completely lost in how to handle this delicate situation. His experience as an elder sibling extended solely to dealing with female relations. The concept of having to offer sage advice to a colt about male things went over his head, no matter how tall he stood. Meanwhile Peppermill felt a mix of regret and uncertainty. It didn’t feel right having to spring such a tricky question onto the draft horse. And for all of his talk of independence, Peppermill knew he was in dire need of advice in how to handle the situation he found himself in.

“Big Mac! Peppermill!” Both male ponies jumped in surprise as their thoughts were stopped cold by a familiar youthful twang coming towards them.

“Applebloom…” announced the grey colt carefully, trying to convince himself that the yellow filly hadn’t developed a mind-reading cutie mark.

“Watcha two doing out here?” Applebloom promptly plopped herself in between her brother and her friend. The two males shared a surprised lifting of an eyebrow at this, but didn’t press.

“Just…enjoying the…sunset.” admitted Peppermill.

“Eyup.”

“Heh…ya mean I didn’t interrupt some sort of boy talk or nuttin’?”

“And why…would a filly…care about…’boy talk’?” questioned the colt.

“I’m jus’ joshin’ ya.” grinned Applebloom. “Actually, I came up here to ask iffin you got any plans tomorrow Peppermill.”

“Plans?”

“Well,” began the yellow filly, “seeing that Sweetie Belle is gone to visit her parents for the next week and Scootaloo is at Young Junior Flyers I’m kinda on mah own for the first part of the school holiday. I hoped maybe you an’ me could do something…” Peppermill mind raced, torn between what could be the two most important fillies in his young life. Fortunately Big Mac threw him a much needed lifeline.

“I got Peppermill runnin’ errands fer me tomorrow. Means I can get more work done here while I let him handle the stuff in town.”

“Oh…” murmured the youngest Apple, slightly mollified. “Well, I guess if you need him to help ya…”

“Don’t worry…Applebloom. I’m sure…I’ll have time…the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s okay. I reckon I can find something to do.”

“Come on, time to head in.” announced Big Mac. He led the two younger ponies back to the farmhouse, all the while wondering just what the grey colt was going to do to get himself out of the predicament he was in.

***

Silver Spoon couldn’t remember if she ever experienced such a massive swing of emotions in such a short time. What had began as a well-thought out plan to get out of Diamond Tiara’s looming shadow had become full of…complications.

But as complications went, being around such an incredible colt was pretty acceptable.

His knowledge of food was incredible, a far cry from a lot of the ponies that she knew. He also didn’t openly dislike her, another notable difference from the norm. And while she liked to think she was above such thinking (despite giving in to Diamond’s tendency to pour over magazines and drooling over stallions in them) Peppermill didn’t look at all like the other colts in town. And his voice, dear Celestia, that voice! That rasp just sounded so…so…

“Snap out of it!” scolded the filly to herself, glancing around in case somepony had overheard her exclamation. She was waiting near Carrot Top’s stand, as Peppermill had asked her to when they left each other’s company the day before. Every moment she waited her mind would push unpleasant thoughts into her mind. What if he changed his mind…what if he doesn’t come…what if he tricked me…

“Silver…Spoon!” The masculine rasp of Peppermill cut into her thoughts, and she felt herself relax. She looked up to flash him a winning smile when she felt him race by, grabbing her tail in his mouth, and drag her around the back of the carrot stand. The next thing she knew he had a hoof pressed firmly to her mouth, and he was peeking around the corner.

“Hmm…humph?” she managed weakly.

“Shh!” hissed the colt, as much to the filly as to Carrot Top herself, who stood beside them with a puzzled look on her face. Silver Spoon felt a flicker of anger surge through her, and was about to give the colt a piece of her mind when…

“Peppermill? Where are you?”

Silver Spoon felt her heart freeze at the familiar feminine drawl of Applebloom calling out. Meanwhile, the colt in question was giving a desperate look to Carrot Top at the same time as he spied the yellow filly approach. Before he could plead his case, the youngest Apple sibling was at the stand.

“Hey Carrot Top, you haven’t seen Peppermill around here today?” The golden yellow mare’s attention was torn between the double shot of puppy dog eyes from both Peppermill and Silver Spoon and the questioning amber glitter from Applebloom.

“You just missed them…er, him.” managed the mare. “He was…heading to Sugarcube Corner.”

“Huh, I jes came from there. Oh well, thanks…” The two grey ponies held their breath through the entire exchange, and only released it when Carrot Top spoke.

“She’s gone.”

“That was close…” squeaked Silver Spoon.

“Stubborn…” was Peppermill’s only comment. He addressed Carrot Top. “Thank you…Carrot Top. I…owe you…”

“No, no. You two kids just go and have fun.” Carrot Top could tell the two younger ponies were grateful, but the mare also sensed that the two were just as glad to still be together. Without another word the two grey ponies went on their way, making sure to go the complete opposite way Applebloom had. Carrot Top couldn’t help but smile at the two.

“Heh…young love…” she chuckled as she tended to her wares.

***

“I swear…she must be…taking lessons…from Pinkie.” grumbled Peppermill. It seemed as though Applebloom showed up at every place they went that day. No matter how hard they tried, that red mane a bobbing pink bow was everywhere. It was reaching a point that Peppermill was beginning to think somepony was conspiring against him and Silver Spoon. Even Silver Spoon’s heroic efforts at keeping her temper in check were starting to fail.

“This is getting ridiculous!” grumbled the filly as her and the colt took refuge inside the ice cream parlour. They had a window seat, but sat on the edges of their respective seats ready to dive for cover should their huntress appear. She couldn’t even enjoy the strawberry sorbet that the grey colt had suggested for her.

“I’m wondering…if it might…be better…in the long run…just to…take the chance…that she…might accept our friendship.” sighed Peppermill, stirring his dish of mint chip ice cream.

“I’d like to not spend the rest of summer vacation in traction, thank you very much.” snapped Silver.

“Applebloom is not…like that.”

“Peppermill, do you know why there aren’t any colt bullies around here? That’s because every one that tried ended up on the wrong end of a buck from her. Why she hasn’t tried to take a round out of Diamond Tiara is beyond me…”

“Would it…make you feel…any better if…I was willing…to take a hit…for you?”

“You don’t have to do that…for me, I mean…” answered Silver, flustered. It was just like Peppermill to let loose a noble sentiment that would make her like him even more. Still, she didn’t like the idea of having some pony else defending her. Celestia knew Silver Spoon probably deserved a buck or two after the way she had treated Applebloom in the past.

“I think…I have…an idea…” murmured the grey colt. “We…are going to…have to make…a run for it.”

“Where?!” moaned the grey filly. “There is no where to go.”

“There is…one place…we can go. One place…we can find…some help…in handling her. Come on!” Silver Spoon managed to take a quick spoonful of sorbet before making a run for it with the colt. The moment they stepped outside however, things went wahoonie-shaped. As if by magic the yellow filly rounded the corner just as the grey ponies went around the other. Applebloom caught a glimpse of familiar black mane and immediate sped up her pace. When she reached the corner she saw, in the distance Peppermill and…

“Silver Spoon?!?” The howl of outrage caused the filly in question to yelp and bolt ahead of Peppermill.

“This way…hurry!” cried the colt, leading his friend towards the outskirts of town to what he felt would be the safest haven.

He just hoped Applebloom’s hatred didn’t overflow onto the other Apples.

***

Applejack and Big Macintosh were in the process of loading some baskets of apples into a cart when they first heard the calls.

”Get back here!”

“Applebloom?” said Applejack, puzzled.

”Over there…by the cart…quick!”

“Peppermill?” rumbled Big Mac.

“We’ll never make it!” This third voice was unfamiliar to the elder Apple ponies, but the tone of panic was enough to make them look at the source. The sight of two madly running ponies being pursued by a furious Applebloom made the decision to act easy. Applejack raced ahead to cut off her little sister, just as Peppermill grabbed Silver Spoon to dive between the tree trunk legs of Big Mac. With two full grown ponies between them and their red-maned pursuer, they could finally catch their breath.

“Applebloom! Wut in tarnation is goin on?” demanded the orange mare.

“AJ! You gotta get her away from him!” demanded the yellow filly, her amber eyes blazing. “That’s Silver Spoon! She’s the worst…”

“You ok?” This was the question from Big Mac to Peppermill, as he gazed down at him and the grey filly. Judging from the panting they gave, he decided to wait for an answer.

“Ah think you need to calm down sis.” intoned Applejack. “Ahm sure there is a good explanation for this…”

“Explanation nuttin’! She’s gonna ruin everything!”

“Ruin *pant* what?” mumbled Silver Spoon, trying not to cringe at the layer of dust she seemed to be generating on her body.

“I ain’t gonna let you turn him against me! I’m sick of you and Diamond always making fun of me for not having a cutie mark! Peppermill is mah friend I ah ain’t gonna let you take him from me!” Applebloom juked and managed to get around her sister, attempting to get at Silver Spoon. Silver gave a squeak and braced herself for impact.

“I can’t let you do that Applebloom.” This simple statement from the red stallion was like a bucket of cold water dropped onto the filly. She might be willing to face down Applejack, but Applebloom wasn’t about to push her luck with her big brother. She came to a screeching halt, mere feet away from a trembling Silver Spoon. Before she could respond, Peppermill ducked under the stallion’s body and advanced angrily on the filly.

“What…is your…problem?” demanded Peppermill. “I know…Silver hasn’t…endeared herself…to you in…the past…but…your acting…like me and her friendship…is the end…of the world.”

“But…”

“Look,” said Silver, pulling herself to her hooves and addressing the filly. “I know you won’t believe this but I’m…sorry.”

“Wut?”

“I know that I haven’t…well, me and Diamond haven’t been the nicest of ponies to you. But I don’t want to be like that anymore. I’m not like that, really.” Silver approached Applebloom, who was virtually vibrating with rage. “I’m sorry for making fun of you. It wasn’t right of me to do that. I had every intention on spending this summer holiday making it up to you, without having to worry about Diamond Tiara. But then, I met Peppermill…”

“Silver…knows as much…about food and cuisine…as I do. It’s…nice…to be able…to talk about…that.” piped in the colt.

“I like Peppermill. He wasn’t immediately ready to hate me like the other colts and fillies in town. He’s smart, he’s…cool. And he’s surprisingly loyal to you. If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew you’d act exactly how you are now, I would of taken his advice and tried to befriend you days ago…”

“So, when you would call me a ‘blank flank’ all those times…?”

“I was just following Diamond Tiara’s lead. Believe me, if I had even considered defending you I’d be in the same boat.” Applebloom stared at the grey filly, then to Peppermill and back again. For a moment it looked as if she might be willing to accept this explanation. But foal hood cruelty can run very, very deep.

“No! No, no, no! It’s lies, all lies! You ain’t ever gonna be mah friend, and I ain’t gonna let you take one on mine!” With that, Applebloom almost did the unthinkable. She reared up angry and jabbed at Silver Spoon’s face. She might of made contact if it weren’t for Peppermill diving in the way.

POW!

“Ouch!”

“Peppermill!” gasped Silver Spoon.

“No! I didn’t…augh!” Horrified and hurt emotionally at the sight of Peppermill staggering back from her blow, Applebloom raced off in the direction of the farmhouse. The grey colt sat upon the ground, rubbing his cheek and wincing. Silver Spoon looked almost sick with worry, as did Applejack. Big Macintosh could only sigh and shake his head. He suspected that this situation could have been handled better, and he suspected that his plan to keep Applebloom out of the proverbial loop was entirely his fault.

“This…this is my fault.” whimpered Silver Spoon. “Why did I ever think everything could just change? No one is ever going to be my friend…”

“I’m…ouch…your friend.” grunted Peppermill, trying to convince himself he hadn’t lost a tooth.

“It seems our family stubbornness has caused more harm than good this time.” sighed Applejack.

“I’m not completely innocent. I did everything she accused me of.” remarked Silver sadly.

“But yer trying to make amends. That’s important.” insisted the orange mare.

“Forgiveness ain’t always easy.” rumbled Big Mac.

“But how do I prove to her that I can change?” sighed Silver Spoon.

“I…might have…an idea.” admitted Peppermill, picking himself off the ground. “But I’ll…need every ponies…help.” Needless to say his adoptive family were all ears for whatever plan the colt had in mind.

***

Applebloom was not the violent type. Sure, having been born and raised on a farm meant that she had to toughen up in a hurry to be able to follow along with the daily chores required to keep the farm running smoothly. But that didn’t mean she considered strength to be her only tool. While she was happy to offer her muscle to deal with the rare uprising from a colt who thought he could physically intimidate a classmate, the idea of raising a hoof to anypony bothered her.

And yet she had just tried to strike another pony.

No, she had struck another pony. Not just any pony, but one that she considered as close to a brother as her own flesh and blood. One who, she would admit, she genuinely loved.

And she thought her heart would break as she laid in her bed, clutching a pillow so hard it looked ready to burst and dampening the sheets with her tears.

As she sniffed back fat tears, something began to tickle her nose. For a moment, she was afraid she had actually managed to burst open her pillow. The idea that she would cause a cloud of feathers to wreck her normally tidy room only served to deepen her misery. But after a few moments it became apparent that it was not feathers that were reaching her snout, it was…

…

“…apple soup?” It was a dish that had one time been rarely seen on the Sweet Apple Acres dining table. But when Peppermill had came into their lives, it became a welcome staple. It proved to be one of the grey colt’s best dishes and he only made it on special occasions. It was one of Applebloom’s favourite meals, and she always felt that Peppermill put a lot of care, effort and himself into it.

But why would he be making it now?

He couldn’t possibly be trying to apologize to her?

Maybe he was trying to lure her out to talk…

Whatever the case, Applebloom felt the need to answer the siren call of the savoury soup and trudge down the stairs with red-rimmed eyes. As she entered the kitchen, she saw the back of grey fur standing at the stove. She almost called out to the cook, when something registered in her mind. Instead of black mane, a long grey braid hung down the back of the pony before her. There was only one pony she knew like that.

“Silver Spoon?” she gasped. At the sound of her name, the filly in question turned to face the yellow filly. Applebloom gave another gasp at the sight of the dirt and dust all over the filly’s face. She looked tired, but happy.

“Are you feeling better Applebloom?” she asked.

“Yer…yer making apple soup?”

“Not with out some help…” She tossed her head back towards the kitchen table, where Peppermill sat with an approving smile. Before Applebloom could respond, the colt motioned her to take a seat. As the yellow filly obeyed Silver Spoon began to carefully ladle three bowls of soup and placed them at the table. As much as she wanted to dig in and drian the bowl, Applebloom was wary.

“Are you tryin’ to get back on mah good side Peppermill?” she demanded.

“No, that would be me.” admitted Silver Spoon as she stiffly took a seat.

“Wuts with you?” asked the Apple filly.

“She’s…sore from…trying to…buck apples. Believe me…I know…what that’s like.”

“Did you just say Silver Spoon was buckin’ apples?!”

“Trying to buck, at any rate.” sighed the grey filly, “I’m going to be sore for the rest of the week. I honestly don’t know how your family does it.”

“And not…just apples. She gathered…all the ingredients…all on her own. Well…with a bit of…supervision from me.”

“And I pretty much did this all on my own. I really should ask my mom and dad to give our cook a raise. Peppermill makes it sound so easy, but it’s not…”

“Jus wait a second! Yer…yer telling’ me Silver Spoon made all this…fer…us?”

“Well, mostly for you. But I have to admit I’d really like to try this.” conceded the grey filly.

“Why?!” The question came out louder and more hotly than Applebloom would of liked, but Silver chose not to comment.

“Peppermill seems to have this theory that food is the penultimate way to solve anything. In this case, it’s how I can prove to your that I truly want to change. Would the old Silver Spoon actually buck apples and work over a hot stove?”

“Ah…guess not. But wut about Diamond Tiara? How do I know you two ain’t got something planned to trick me?”

“Diamond Tiara isn’t even in Ponyville right now. She never is during the summer holidays. Normally I keep to myself because…well, because I know if I went out alone there are some ponies that might try to take advantage. There are a lot of hooves I’ve stepped on being with Diamond.” The realization that Silver Spoon would literally have to go into hiding for months at a time hit Applebloom hard. While she might of wished ill of her, this was a bit much.

“I’m ah blank flank.” she stated flatly, grasping at straws at this point. She wanted to hate the filly in the worst way, but it was getting hard to do. “And Peppermill is from Canterlot. His family…well, it sounds like they were popular…”

“As far as cutie marks go I know, unlike Diamond Tiara, that it doesn’t change who you are. And to be honest I never thought about what money or fame Peppermill‘s family had”

“That’s…not the point. The point…is that we…three are here now.” intoned the colt quickly. He placed a hoof onto Applebloom’s. “Applebloom…I think…of you…like the…little sister…I never had. And while…I know you…want to…protect me, you can’t…choose my…friends for me. I know…you and Silver…have had issues. But…things change…ponies change. I would…love it…if you two…could just…let bygones be…bygones.”

“Besides,” sighed Silver, “things are bound to get ugly when Diamond comes back when the holiday is over. It will break her heart, but I can’t let her boss me around anymore. I want real friends like Peppermill…and you?” Applebloom looked at Peppermill, then to Silver Spoon, then back to the colt.

“Silver Spoon might be able to do that puppy dog look, but you look like you got somethin’ in yer eye…” The was a minute of silence, then Silver Spoon began to giggle.

“She’s right. You need to pout more…”

“Humph…colts don’t…do ‘puppy eyes’. I was…going…for charming.”

“Well, whatever it was it worked.” laughed Applebloom. “I can’t promise anything, but I’m willing to try.” With that the yellow filly offered a hoof to Silver Spoon. The grey filly beamed and shook on it.

“Of course,” added Applebloom, “we got something to deal with before Diamond Tiara comes back.”

“Oh?” questioned Peppermill.

“How in Equestria are we gonna explain this to Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?” Silver Spoon and Peppermill ‘s faces went blank.

“Oh…bother…”

FIN

Heat, Simmer, Serve
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

Heat, Simmer, Serve

Early mornings were one of Scootaloo’s favourite times of the day. It probably was a Pegasus thing; the rising sun and clear skies called to her, even if she was still in the process of actually learning how to get off the ground. And during the summer holidays when school didn’t get in the way she could really enjoy those precious moments. Those same early mornings also proved to be the best time for the purple-maned filly to indulge in her second favourite activity next to trying to earn her cutie mark: spend as much time as possible with Rainbow Dash.

Today the filly found herself making use of a cloud personally delivered to ground level by the cyan mare to get used to the sensation of it. Rainbow Dash insisted that this was something that the filly needed to get used to once she finally had the ability to fly. Rainbow Dash could of told the filly to stick her head in a bucket and cluck like a chicken, and Scootaloo would have been off looking for a suitable container in a buzz of wings.

As Scootaloo tested her legs on the rather…spongy surface Rainbow Dash hovered nearby with a watchful eye.

“Heh, I bet there are a lot of earth ponies and unicorns that would love to be in your position. Clouds are like…the ultimate bed, and make pretty good building materials.” grinned Rainbow.

“I know! I mean, your house is so cool! When I can fly, I’m going to make one just like yours!” exclaimed the filly.

“Yeah, it’s only fitting for the best flyer in Equestria..” smirked Rainbow. She watched the filly test her footing for a few moments more, then cocked her head in puzzlement. “Hey, I never noticed those goggles before. Aren’t those…?”

“The newest official Wonderbolts Spitfire Goggles? Oh yeah!” Scootaloo beamed with pride as Rainbow admired the merchandise.

“Pretty cool…but pretty pricy too. How did you afford those anyways?”

“Afford?” The orange filly faltered for a moment. Her eyes grew distant as her mind went back to a few days ago…

***

There was only one shop in Ponyville that sold official Wonderbolt merchandise. That made it a magnet for every young Pegasus filly and colt in the vicinity. Whenever a new shipment of product got displayed in the front window, the store owners made sure to have plenty of window cleaner and rags handy. After all, they couldn’t close down for the day without wiping off the myriad of nose prints on the glass.

And only when there was no other school pony around did Scootaloo add her ’mark’, so to speak.

Her tendency to wait until no other young pony was around to look longingly at the pricy items stemmed from her fierce independence. Plus, the idea of being caught acting like some girly filly after a dress or other things like that mortified her. But when it came to the Wonderbolts she was willing to look the other way, in a manner of speaking.

She was about head back to her parked scooter when a voice piped up from behind her.

“Scootaloo? Is that you?” The filly in question flinched and pulled back her face from the window with an audible pop. There, standing behind her was…

“Silver Spoon.” Scootaloo grumbled, silently cursing Applebloom and Peppermill (but mostly Peppermill) for apparently ‘befriending’ the grey filly. Despite their insistence that Silver Spoon had turned over a new leaf and was genuinely wanting to make up for her bullying ways, she found it hard to believe. She might not of been as bad as Diamond Tiara, but the taunts of ‘blank flank’ still caused her to flare her tiny wings angrily.

“What’s got your attention?” asked Silver Spoon pleasantly.

“Nothing you’d be interested in…” snorted Scootaloo.

“Try me.” The rather emphatic statement made Scootaloo frown. While it seemed that the grey filly was trying to be nice, the Pegasus filly wasn’t buying into it. But, she didn’t want to risk having Applebloom or Peppermill become cross with her. With forced politeness, she responded.

“I was just…admiring the new Wonderbolt goggles they have here.” She motioned with a fore hoof to the window where the display sat. “They have Spitfire’s colors and signature and everything. They would be so cool to have…”

“Well, why don’t you go and buy a pair?”

“Huh, some of us don’t get huge allowances…” explained Scootaloo flatly. Silver Spoon’s face fell, resulting in some mixed emotions from the Pegasus. But just as quickly a determined glimmer shone in Silver’s grey-violet eyes made Scootaloo blink.

“Wait right here…please.” begged Silver Spoon. Scootaloo could only manage a small nod before the grey filly spun around and entered the shop. A minute or two passed, then Silver returned with a small bag. She dropped it before the Pegasus and then, with a grin, pulled out it’s contents.

“You bought… the goggles?” gasped Scootaloo. The orange filly immediately felt a surge of fury build in her. She was utter convinced that the grey filly was going to mock her with them. She was building up a head of steam to really let her have it when Silver put the goggles around Scootaloo’s neck.

“A gift…and they do look good on you. I don’t know if they are just for show or if they really work, but I bet when you finally figure out this whole flying thing they’ll come in handy.” Scootaloo was speechless, and could only manage some silent opening and closing of her mouth.

“Don forget that you and Sweetie Belle are invited to my house later today. See you!” And with that Scootaloo found herself alone in front of the shop, trying to restart her thought processes.

***

“I guess that’s one advantage to having a rich friend.” laughed Rainbow Dash once Scootaloo had finished her story.

“I wanted so badly to see this as nothing more than her trying to buy my friendship. But…I couldn’t. She seemed to really consider it a gift and nothing more…”

“Well, sometimes a gift is nothing but a gift. Did you thank her for it?’

“Did I thank her?” echoed Scootaloo.

“Well duh. You don’t go accepting gifts without a thank you. Totally not cool. She’s going out of her way to be friends and you brush her off?”

“Oh geeze…” Scootaloo hopped off the cloud and began to race over where she had stashed her scooter, calling over her shoulder. “IgottagoRainbowDashseeyoutomorrow!”

“Whatever squirt!” laughed the cyan Pegasus as the filly raced off in a buzz of wings towards where Silver Spoon’s mansion sat.

***

Scootaloo drove around to the back gate of the large house with the equally large grounds. Silver Spoon had explained that it was far easier to do this than to go through the routine of addressing the servant at the front and then being escorted around. She leaned her scooter and helmet along the stone wall and peered around. Thankfully her friends were not that far away. She trotted towards a small gazebo set up among some flower beds where Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, Peppermill and Silver Spoon were gathered.

As she approached she noticed something odd seemed to be going on between Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. The two fillies seemed to be covered in a sticky yet familiar substance dotted with colourful petals. Fighting a groan of understanding she quickly crossed the rest of the distance to the group.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.” she said, shaking her head.

“No, it ain’t…” muttered Applebloom.

“It’s…nectar and…flower petals.” rasped Peppermill.

“Well, that’s new at least.” admitted Scootaloo.

“I’m still trying to figure out how you two managed to do that…” Silver Spoon quipped.

“Well, it’s certainly not a talent that can get you a cutie mark.” sighed the white unicorn filly, trying to pry some yellow petals off of a hoof.

“You might as well come inside and get cleaned up.” offered Silver.

“Um…I dunno…” mumbled Applebloom. Sweetie didn’t speak, but the expression on her face indicated she was in agreement with the yellow filly.

“What?” asked Silver with a frown.

“Well, it ain’t that we aren’t grateful or nuttin’…” began Applebloom.

“But that butler is scary!” squeaked Sweetie.

“She…has a point…Silver.” agreed Peppermill grimly.

“What butler?” asked Scootaloo.

“I guess you didn’t have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Cufflink yet.” sighed Silver.

“Mister Cufflink? Since when do you call butlers mister?”

“You’ll…see…”

***

Scootaloo and Peppermill waited in Silver Spoon’s impressive bedroom while the remaining three fillies quickly made for the bathroom. The grey colt raised an eyebrow at the hardware adorning the Pegasus’ neck.

“Where…did you…get the…goggles?”

“Oh…um…Silver Spoon bought them for me.” explained Scootaloo.

“She bought…them for you…huh.” Peppermill hid a smile by looking away. Scootaloo noticed though, and frowned.

“What?”

“I…already knew…about it. I just…wanted to hear…you admit it.” Scootaloo scowled and poked at the colt, who merely grinned. This was a typical exchange between the two, a unique way of showing their bond of friendship. “She was…really happy…about it. She was…convinced you’d throw it…in her face…or accuse her…of bribery.”

“Yeah, I…almost did. But…” managed Scootaloo. But before she could continue there was a small commotion outside as three filly came racing into the room. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle dove for cover behind Peppermill and Scootaloo while Silver stayed at the door.

“He’s coming…” she whispered fiercely from her post.

“Oh…bother…” mumbled the colt. He looked about ready to say something to Scootaloo when…

“Miss Silver Spoon?” It was a masculine voice to be sure, but it sent a shiver up and down Scootaloo’s back, and her wings flared in surprise.

“Yes Mr. Cufflink?” replied Silver pleasantly.

“I trust that you and your companions are doing well at this moment in time?”

“Of course we are. Thank you for asking Mr. Cufflink.” Scootaloo couldn’t make out the pony on the other side of the door from the angle she was sitting at, but she was beginning to think that was a good thing. There was just something about that voice. It reminded her of when the Cutie Mark Crusaders had stayed up late in their clubhouse using Sweetie Belle’s radio to listen to some old-fashioned radio programs. They would huddle together as the narrator would spin a creepy tale and tremble whenever the villain (usually some sort of mad scientist-type) would speak.

“I hate having to interrupt your…ahem…play date but I have a urgent message addressed to you.” The young ponies in the room could hear the sound of paper being passed along, and strained to listen as the butler took his leave. So focused were they on his departure that they all gave a yelp of surprise when Silver Spoon closed the door firmly.

“It’s those eyebrows.” pouted Applebloom.

“Yeah, they’re huge! And his expression never changes. It’s like he’s waiting for you do something wrong…” added Sweetie.

“I think he practises that look in the mirror every morning.” admitted Silver. “He might be a bit creepy, but Daddy says he one of Equestria‘s best butlers.”

“Anyways…” began Peppermill, trying to change the subject, “what is so…urgent about this…message?”

“Beats me.” shrugged Silver. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it is one of Diamond Tiara’s famous ‘wish you were here’ messages. Every year she writes the same thing: blah blah wonderful place blah blah so many rich ponies blah blah too bad you couldn’t come. I think she has these things made up ahead of time and just sends them out randomly, since they never change.” As Silver Spoon began to read the paper, the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Peppermill started to quietly discuss what the plans for that day would be. But before they could get anywhere a rather unnerving sound seemed to escape from Silver Spoon’s throat.

“Nnngghh…”

“Um, are you alright Silver?” questioned the white unicorn filly.

“No…no, no, no!” Silver’s voice went from a moan to a shriek, and her friends looked at one another in concern. Peppermill carefully approached the filly (who looked to be in full meltdown mode) and carefully picked up the now discarded letter. He read it out loud, trying to be heard over the frantic Silver Spoon.

“SS…Returning to…Ponyville at…end of week…have important news…Mr. Rich…” The colt looked up puzzled. “Who is…Mr. Rich?”

“That’s Filthy Rich. He’s Diamond Tiara’s dad, remember I told you about him and our zap apple jam?” explained Applebloom, watching Silver Spoon’s breakdown with equal parts concern and awe.

“She’s coming back early!” wailed the grey filly, throwing her head back in a howl.

“You mean, Diamond Tiara? But, there’s still two weeks before school starts again.” exclaimed Scootaloo, first to pick up on the reality of the situation.

“Mr. Rich wouldn’t be coming home without Diamond. I…I haven’t prepared. I…I needed those weeks to figure out to explain to Diamond about you guys…oh no!” Silver began to prance in place, looking around frantically. It wasn’t until Peppermill approached her and placed his fore hooves on either side of her face to wrench her gaze to him that she stopped.

“Silver Spoon…get a grip…on yourself!” Colt and filly held the pose for a few seconds until a slightly annoyed Applebloom inserted herself between the two of them.

“This ain’t no time to panic. If we don’t want to spend our next school year being terrorized by Diamond Tiara lookin’ fer revenge, we need to think! You said you had some sorta plan Silver?”

“Well, kind of…you have to know exactly what Diamond wants to hear. The slightest miscue and she’ll be at your throat. And…well…” The grey filly faltered, looking unhappy. But then she looked up to see the anxious faces of her new friends. There was no doubt in her young mind that they wanted to help her in her time of need as much as they wanted to save themselves the ongoing agony Diamond Tiara could create. Even Peppermill, who by proxy of not being a student could of avoided all of the imminent danger, seemed eager to help. At that moment a rare warm feeling flooded the filly. It was something she never felt for all of her years in Diamond Tiara’s shadow…genuine friendship.

“I…need your help. Please.” she pleaded at last. “I…as much as Diamond has been part of my life I…I can’t deal with her anymore. These last few months have been more fun than any I can remember. I’m not mean, I’m not a bully, I’m…I’m…”

“Your…ok?” This comment came from Scootaloo, who was surprised by her response. Silver Spoon blinked, fighting tears, and manage a small smile.

“I can live with that…” Silver agreed.

“All right, it’s time we got to work. We don’t have much time…” Applebloom announced. “Ifin we are gonna have to deal with an angry Diamond Tiara we need to get organized!” Within moments the young ponies huddled together with a single goal in mind.

***

The end of that week came so quickly that the Cutie Mark Crusaders wondered if somepony had pulled a nasty prank on them. Was it possible that Diamond Tiara had paid someone to speed up all the clocks in Ponyville? Or maybe she had somehow convinced Celestia and Luna to subtly speed up time itself?

“Why would Princess Celestia take money to do something like that? She doesn’t need the money.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes at Sweetie Belle’s incredible story, wondering not for the first time what exactly went on inside her unicorn friend’s mind.

“Well, do you have an explanation?” demanded the white filly.

“No, but if I did it would be a lot better than that!”

“Girls!” snapped Applebloom. “This ain’t the time or the place.”

“Definitely not the place…” The Cutie Mark Crusaders, as agreed upon days earlier, waited in the massive foyer of the mansion Silver Spoon lived the morning of D Day (‘D’, of course, for Diamond Tiara). The plan, such as it was, was for the girls to all go to the train station together with Peppermill waiting for them there. Of course, the fact that the intimidating Mr. Cufflink just happened to have had the day off helped immensely. Otherwise the three fillies would never of willingly waited.

“Miss Silver Spoon wishes to apologize for her tardiness. She should be down momentarily.” This was the explanation given by the teenaged mare in the maid’s uniform that greeted the girls at the door. With that the girls waited…and waited…and waited some more.

“You don’t suppose Silver took off in the middle of the night?” asked Sweetie.

“You haven’t been getting into Rarity’s romance novels again, have you?” questioned Scootaloo.

“…maybe.” said the unicorn in a small voice.

“Ugh…” That rather painful sound came from the grey filly at the top of the huge central staircase. As she minced her way down the steps, the Crusaders shared a worried look. Silver Spoon, to be brutally honest, looked awful. Her normally well-styled mane and braid looked unkempt. There were unmistakable dark rings around her bleary eyes. Her head and ears were drooped low and she continually stifled yawn the entire trip to the ground floor.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” asked Sweetie Belle with concern.

“No. I spent half the night going over the script we had come up with do deal with anything Diamond might throw at me. Then I spent the rest of the night worried it wasn’t going to work.”

“Maybe she’ll feel sorry for you. Couldn’t you just send a message sayin’ yer sick?” offered the apple filly.

“Nopony brushes off Diamond Tiara.” The mocking tone of Silver’s voice indicated this was something the filly had heard more than once. In her normal, albeit tired tone she added. “If I didn’t show up she’d go looking for me.”

“That’s it!” This furious exclamation came from Scootaloo. Her patience had been worn through and she was sick of the suffocating despair the rest of her friends were giving off, especially Silver Spoon. “She’s just one pony. I don’t care how bad she is, she isn’t going to stand up to all of us. We are going to the train station, meet Peppermill there, and if Diamond Tiara can’t handle it then too bad!”

Silver sat hard onto the floor, blinking at the three fillies before her. There were times in the past where a scene like this, with the Cutie Mark Crusaders standing before her and Diamond Tiara nowhere to be seen would have been the beginning of a doozy of a nightmare. But instead of vengeance, righteous indignation and hatred directed at her, she felt nothing but kindness. It would have been even better, she would muse, if Peppermill had been there. But she wasn’t about to complain.

“I guess…I guess I just have face the music. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this for longer than you might think. Thank you…for helping me.”

“Right! Now, let’s get going to the train station!” crowed Scootaloo.

“Yeah, before Peppermill starts getting ponies all askin’ for him to come an’ cook fer them. You’d be amazed at how often that happens.” agreed Applebloom.

***

“I’m sorry…Ditzy…but I’m…not catering for…anypony right now. Wait until…school starts…again and ask me.” The grey mail mare fluttered dejectedly away, leaving Peppermill to sigh. “Note to self…talk to…Pinkie Pie about…working on…my baking skills.” The colt had been waiting for the four fillies at the train station, mulling over last minute advice and potential escape routes were things to turn ugly. He was mentally measuring how many young ponies could squeeze through an alley behind the station itself when the Crusaders and Silver Spoon arrived.

“Are you…ok Silver?” asked the colt, approaching the filly with a look of concern. The separate reactions of the young ponies were noteworthy: Silver Spoon gave a wan smile, but she couldn’t stop the hint of blush on her cheeks, Applebloom frowned ever so slightly at the attention the grey filly received, Sweetie Belle looked at both Silver and Peppermill with a look of confusion and Scootaloo simply rolled her eyes.

“She didn’t sleep well last night.” explained Scootaloo quickly. “She’s worried about Diamond Tiara.”

“But I’m ready as I’ll ever be.” conceded the grey filly, lifting her chin and steadying her posture. Other than a few stray strands of grey mane she looked like she was ready to face the world…

…until the whistle of the approaching train made her (and the rest of the group) jump and wince.

The young ponies watched as the train pulled into the station. Their focus was not on the normal passenger cars but the car just prior to the caboose. This car was reserved for the personal use of Filthy Rich and his family. A few of the family’s personal servants were already hard at work unloading baggage as the stallion himself stepped out of the car.

“He seems…familiar…” murmured Peppermill.

“Reckon he might have been to yer family’s restaurant in Canterlot?” whispered Applebloom, to which the colt answered with a shrug. Colt and fillies sat on the platform and watched…and waited…and waited…and waited…

“Is this…one of those…fashionably late…things?” asked Peppermill.

“How can you be fashionably late getting off a train?” pondered Sweetie out loud.

“Sumthins’ wrong…” stated Applebloom flatly. Silver Spoon said nothing, but approached the stallion as he barked out the last of his orders.

“Excuse me, Mr. Rich?” The tall stallion turned to see Silver Spoon before him, and a rather peculiar expression crossed his face. If the gathered ponies didn’t know better, he seemed reluctant to talk to her.

“Oh, Silver Spoon. I wasn’t expecting you. I thought I would see you at your home.”

“I…got your message sir. Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? No, it’s just…” The stallion definitely seemed ill at ease, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders shared a puzzled look. Eventually the stallion sighed. “I guess there is nothing for it but to tell you.”

“Is it about Diamond Tiara? Did…something happen to her?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. As you may or may not know, one of the reasons why our family leaves Ponyville during the summer break is to go and visit my wife’s family. This year we were introduced to some of their friends. Old money, as you probably could guess.” Silver simply nodded, clearly wanting Filthy Rich to continue.

“Anyways, my wife and them began to talk and the subject of private schooling came up. It seems these friends had children who attended and they talked quite highly of it. They even had a brochure, if you can believe it. Well, the more they talked the more excited both my wife and daughter became. Eventually we were invited to the school just to tour it, and they fell in love with it.”

“A private school? Full of Diamond Tiaras? Ugh…” muttered Scootaloo under her breath.

“And to make a long story short we decided that, for just this following school year, Diamond would be enrolled at this private school. She’ll be staying with her aunt and uncle while she attends.” Oddly, the stallion seemed very apologetic at this point. Silver Spoon, on the other hoof, seemed stunned.

“Listen, I know that you and my daughter were…are friends. And I know that Diamond…well, she hasn’t always been the nicest of ponies.” The Crusaders and Peppermill caught the older pony glancing at them at this comment. “I was quite shocked when she agreed so quickly to this. I even pointed out that it would mean leaving you behind, as it were.” Filthy Rich faltered for a moment, then sighed. “She said, and I quote: Silver Spoon can take care of things in Ponyville on her own. She doesn’t need me to keep the…commoners in line.”

“Commoners?” responded Peppermill with a raised eyebrow. Filthy Rich leaned down to the filly, and spoke softly.

“I am sorry about this. You were always far too good to my daughter, given how poorly she treated you. And everypony else, to be honest. I thought you would take it rather badly, but…” He looked over at the fillies and colt, and gave a small nod. “But I think you’ll do just fine.” The stallion straightened up tall, and spoke up. “I’m sure that there are probably all sorts of things that Diamond has borrowed from you and left in her room. You’re welcome to come and get those things whenever you want. Good day.” And with that Filthy led his porters away with the baggage.

“Isn’t that jus lahk Diamond Tiara?” growled Applebloom. “Dumps the only friend she had in the world jus so she could spend time with a bunch of snooty brats lahk her. Honestly…”

“Um…Silver, are you ok?” questioned Sweetie. The filly in question had slowly turned around on stiff legs and walked with a bit of wobble right past her new friends. Silver’s face held a unnerving expression, her eyes distant and glazed over slightly. She was silent as she walked on, her friends looking on worriedly two at either side of her. Eventually they reached the small park in town where the fountain stood, and Silver came to an abrupt halt underneath a tree.

“Silver Spoon?” asked Scootaloo, waving a forehoof in front of the filly’s face.

“Ah remember Granny Smith talkin’ about this once. I think she called it catty-tonic?” said the Apple filly.

“Silver?” This was the plea from Peppermill, who was genuinely beginning to worry about his new friend. He noticed that her lips were moving, but couldn’t make out what she was trying to convey. He strained hard, then frowned. “I’m…free?”

“I’m free…” agreed the filly, startling the others around her. “I’m…I’m free…”

…

”I’M FREE!!!!!”

Silver Spoon reared up onto her hind legs, flinging her forelegs out and throwing her head back in apparent ecstasy. She then began to bounce around the gathered ponies giggling madly.

“I think she has gone crazy.” exclaimed Scootaloo in alarm.

“But she seems so…happy.” added Sweetie Belle.

“Would ya rather she be barkin’ lahk Winona?” snapped Applebloom. Her comment was cut off when Silver suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth.

“I’m free Applebloom! I’m free! She’s not coming back!”

“Uh, do you mean Diamond Tiara? She’s only going to be gone for a school year…” began Scootaloo.

“But a school year without having to be a spoiled bully is a lifetime! It’s like…a huge weight is off of my back!” trilled Silver Spoon, prancing in place, her face flushed with joy. “I can be me! I can be with…my friends. My real friends.” A sudden realization seemed to hit the filly, and she calmed down. “I mean, that is, if you all will still be my friends…”

“Why…would we…stop being…your friends?” asked Peppermill, looking hurt by the insinuation.

“Well…” squirmed the grey filly. “You could be waiting until school starts to get back at me for everything me and Diamond did to you…”

“We ain’t lahk Diamond Tiara. It hasn’t been easy fer us to accept, but you are a decent pony Silver Spoon. And…and I’m willing to still be yer friend.” It was a rather hard thing for the Apple filly to say, given her family’s infamous stubbornness, but she meant it from the bottom of her heart.

“Yeah, I guess you are cool…when you’re not being a snob…” agreed Scootaloo, nudging the goggles around her neck with a hoof.

“You are very nice Silver. I much prefer you this way.” nodded Sweetie Belle enthusiastically.

“What about you Peppermill?” asked Silver of the colt, her eyes shimmering with hope.

“I don’t think…I could not like…any pony…who knows as much…about food as you. Besides…us grey ponies…have to stick…together.” grinned the colt. Silver Spoon looked at her new friends, feeling ready to burst in genuine happiness, something she was not used to.

Then, the unthinkable happened…

Silver Spoon might of gotten away with flinging her forelegs around Peppermill’s neck and hugging him…

…but when she went ahead and planted a kiss on his cheek, all heck broke loose.

Scootaloo’s face twisted in disgust.

Sweetie Bell tried (and failed) to hide a blush on her face by covering it with her hooves.

Peppermill sat there with a shocked expression on his face.

And Applebloom exploded, and exploded again…

”SILVER SPOON!” roared the yellow filly. The pony in question, realizing what she had done, immediately took off in a run.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I lost my head for a second! Nooooo!!!” wailed Silver as she ran with Applebloom in hot pursuit.

“School is going to be really weird this year…” sighed Scootaloo, rolling her eyes. Sweetie Belle nodded, then frowned as she examined the frozen form of Peppermill.

“Um, does being ‘catty-tonic’ spread? Because I think Peppermill caught it from Silver Spoon.”

FIN

Centerfold
View Online

The Spice of Life - Peppermill's Stories

Centerfold

It was as typical of a day as one might expect in Ponyville. The sun was shining, everypony was in a good mood, and there seemed to be little chance of adventure and/or chaos to occur.

And five little colts were bored to tears because of it.

Usually Snips, Snails, Peppermill, Pipsqueak and Featherweight (and the absent Rumble) could be found having all sorts of fun in and around the town. The bond of friendship between the six young ponies was compared by some to that of the famous Elements of Harmony, also citizens of the small town. But over the last few days the well of ideas had been running dry, to the point not one of them could come up with a single good idea of what to do with themselves.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” muttered the chubby unicorn colt as he lay on his generous belly on the grass. “But I’m actually thinking practising magic would be better than this.”

“I’ve taken pictures of just about everything I can think of…twice.” agreed Featherweight, who absently cleaned the lens of his famous camera around his neck. The others merely gave various nods and grunts of agreement. Peppermill was tempted to mention something about idle hooves being Discord`s workshop (something he had heard his birth mother mention from time to time), but knew better. A discussion-bordering-on-a-hooffight about the semantics of the phrase would only alleviate the boredom for so long.

“I wish Rumble was here. He usually has good ideas for stuff to do.” This was the lament from Snails, to which the others nodded in agreement. The rough and tumble Pegasus colt was the unofficial, but accepted leader of their little troupe. More often than not, he was the one that would take charge of the situation and lead the colts to all sorts of adventures. Of course, this usually led to a group effort to get out of the circumstances which didn’t always work out in the end.

“Where is…Rumble anyways?” quiered Peppermill.

“He said something about seeing his brother off…” answered Pipsqueak, doodling pirate ships with crescent moon flags in the dirt.

“Oh yeah. There is some sort of big weather conference in Cloudsdale this weekend. Apparently any and all Pegasi with time off were expected to go. I know Uncle Heavyweight is there.” explained Featherweight.

“Maybe we should have gone with him.” remarked Snails in his slow drawl. “It would have been better than just sitting here…”

“HEY!!!” A loud but familiar call from high above made all the colts jump and gaze into the sky. Sure enough, the Pegasus colt in question was coming in fast towards them. One could almost make out what appeared to be a package of some sort clutched tight to his chest.

“Um, should he be flying that fast?” asked Pip warily.

“Something has got him excited.” agreed Featherweight.

“I think…we should move.” Peppermill’s gravelly announcement sent the ponies scattering, preparing themselves for an uncharacteristically rough landing. But Rumble was a strong flyer, and the cargo he was carrying in his forehooves was far too precious to risk a crash landing. With a mid-air maneuver that would have impressed Rainbow Dash (or Scootaloo, though she would rip her own wings off before ever admitting Rumble being superior to her in anything) the colt managed to slow down just enough for a near-perfect four point landing…

…perfect, except that he hadn’t completely removed his forward momentum, which resulted in a face plant into the dirt.

“Nice one!” laughed Snips. “That one was better than your usual landings.”

“It could have been worse. Remember when he clotheslined himself with an actual clothesline?” snickered Featherweight. By this point Rumble had popped back onto his hooves, looking frantically around oblivious to the jokes at his expense.

“Is this…what you arte…looking for Rumble?” asked Peppermill. The grey colt pointed to the brown paper package on the ground, one that Pipsqueak was poking at with interest. In response, the Pegasus colt leapt upon the object in question, sending the pinto colt tumbling backwards.

“Thank Celestia it is okay!” exclaimed Rumble in obvious relief.

“Oy! What’s the big deal?” demanded Pipsqueak, righting himself and glaring crossly at the older colt.

“Sorry about that Pip, guys. But believe me,” announced the colt, his eyes sparkling. “This is going to make up for everything.”

“What is it?” sang out the chorus of puzzlement from the other ponies.

“As soon as Thunderlane was out of sight I snuck into his room and got…It!”

“It?”

“It!” Rumble opened the top of the package just enough to give the colts surrounding him a glimpse inside. The only thing they could make out was the top half of a single word. But it was a word that was nothing short of a Holy Grail for any red-blooded colt.

Playcolt.
***

Later that day, when pressed, some of the townsponies would admit that the six young colts had been acting very odd as they walked with a purpose through town. One would assume they were trying to act nonchalantly as possible, with little actual success. This, it would be agreed, was due to the nervous energy that poured off of the group. Clearly they were trying to get somewhere while trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Regardless, the odd behavior was quickly forgotten and considered nothing more than ‘colts being colts’.

As quickly as the colts passed through town, they arrived at their chosen destination. By the fact that his parents were the only ones not in the town at that moment in time, it was Snail’s home that was where the colts decided to examine their treasure. They quickly gathered into the basement of the house, closing the door to the underground space behind them. The last thing any of them wanted was to risk any adult ponies stumbling across them and their forbidden treasure.

“I can’t believe you actually went into his room and got it!” gushed Snips.

“Guys, this is a big moment for us. Thunderlane says this is better than any amount of Sex Ed classes he ever took in school.” said Rumble in a hushed tone. The two Pegasi and two unicorns could only nod in solemn agreement. Pipsqueak, a bit too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation, simply sat there. Peppermill sat beside the pinto colt, feeling…well, slightly out of the loop.

He had heard plenty of stories from his friends about this supposed class that was required learning at the big red schoolhouse the rest of his friends went to. Due to the home schooling he had received at the hooves of his worldly mother Crème Brule, it had been determined that the little cook was advanced enough not to have to partake. While some of his friends were jealous of his apparent ‘get out of school free’ condition, the grey pony sometimes wished he could join them. At the very least he could get a better understanding of why Sex Ed seemed to fill his colt pals with such mixed feelings.

But even Peppermill was familiar with the forbidden allure of Playcolt.

Not unlike Rumble, Peppermill’s knowledge of the periodical was due to his elder sibling though in the cook’s case it was Saltpeter and not Big Macintosh that partook in the literature. There had been only a small hoofful of times when Peppermill had debated whether he could get away with sneaking out a copy of the magazine from his sinister sibling’s grasp. But a solid spanking and threats that should have hinted to the stallion’s true nature put that idea firmly out of the colt’s head. At least, until now…

“And you are…sure Thunderlane won’t find out…about this?” questioned the adopted Apple pony.

“Hey, we’ll have this thing back in his room long before he comes back from Cloudsdale.” remarked Featherweight with a wave of a hoof. “Besides, it’s not like we need to keep it for that long.”

“Exactly. If what my brother says is true, the real prize is what he called ‘The Playmate of the Month Centerfold’”

“What’s a ‘playmate’?” asked Snails in his typical slow-on-the-uptake drawl.

“As I hear it,” explained Rumble with shining eyes and fluttering wings, “every month they get a really really, really pretty mare to pose for pictures.”

“Pictures of a pretty mare?” remarked Pipsqueak skeptically.

“Not just any pictures. Pictures of…everything!” said Snips in a low, hushed voice.

“Everything?”

“Everything!”

“…blimey.”
***

Approximately fifteen pony minutes later which as we can establish is considerably longer than human minutes…

Six rather confused colts sat around a large unfolded poster, gazing with various degrees of intensity at the rather…interesting image. There was no doubt it was a mare, with a dirty rose colored coat and dark maroon mane spilling over her withers. She appeared to be lying on her back with an expression on her face that they all assumed was meant to be alluring (they knew this solely because they had enough experience watching certain white unicorn mares use that same look to get stallions from the town to help her with heavy loads of material for her dresses).

She was undeniably fit and shapely, her curves quite pleasant to look at. But it was the lower half of the image that the colts suspected was the more important part, though for the life of them they weren’t sure why. The mare’s hind legs were spread out enough to reveal a pair of large, firm teats just above a slit of pink flesh topped by what looked like a small pink pearl of flesh. All of them, save one, knew exactly what they were looking at but none of them had the faintest idea what the big deal was.

“Is that all there is then?” asked Pipsqueak uncertainly.

“It does seem…rather anti-climactic, doesn’t it?” agreed Peppermill.

“She’s pretty.” murmured Snails, though in his defense he seemed more content to look at the unnamed mare’s face that he…other bits.

“It’s…a nice picture. Very professional…” conceded Featherweight.

“Is something supposed to happen? Are we…I don’t know…supposed to feel something?” asked Snips desperately. He was probably the one who was most looking forward to ‘becoming a stallion’, and the disappointment made his already annoying nasal whine more pronounced.

“Quiet, I’m thinking.” snapped Rumble, forelegs folded tight against his chest and deep in thought. He was disappointed as well, but not prone to whining like the chubby unicorn colt was. He thought back to any of the times his older brother got a new copy of the magazine and what he did with it. “I’m pretty sure…we have to do something.”

“Something?” questioned Snails.

“Well,” huffed the dark maned colt, “Thunderlane always locks the door to his room whenever the newest issue comes out. But since his room is right next to mine I can hear him if I press my ear against the wall. I’m sure he’s doing…something while he’s looking at it, but I can’t tell what exactly. But when he’s done he always heads for the bathroom and has a shower. Then he usually either tosses his bed sheet into the laundry or takes a rag from closet and does something with it in his room…”

“He has to shower and clean up after he looks at that?” asked Featherweight doubtfully. “If that is what it takes to grow up I’ll pass thanks.”

“There has to be more to it than that. I mean, does he seem happy or what when he does…whatever?” demanded Snips, begging for anything to justify all the secrecy they had gone through to get the prize.

“I guess he sounds happy. It sounds like ‘oh baby’ and ‘you’re so hot’ and things like that.” shrugged Rumble. The colts digested this information for a moment or two. Then Snails stretched his long neck down towards the image and spoke loudly.

“You’re very pretty.”

…

“I don’t think she heard me…”

“Does the picture talk? I remember my auntie showing me this book made by unicorns that read itself.” piped up Pipsqueak.

“No, I know the picture doesn’t talk. I think I would have heard something from my brother’s room.” answered Rumble firmly.

“Besides Snails,” added Peppermill, patting his lanky friend on the back. “I’m sure…she gets told she’s…pretty by all…sorts of ponies.” Snails just gave a sad frown and continued to look at the picture.

“Ugh. To hay with this. I’m out of here…” growled Snips. The chubby colt stomped up the stairs grumbling to himself.

“Erm, Rumble?” asked Pip softly.

“Yeah?”

“Do all mares and fillies have all those…bits down there? They aren’t like the ones on…um…me…”

“I suppose they don’t have the same classes in our grade like they do with you huh? I think I still have a copy of that Sexual Education textbook at home.” said Rumble.

“I don’t know…if that is…a good idea.” spoke up Peppermill. “Maybe he should…wait until…he gets into…your grade.”

“That’s okay, I don’t need it.” The pinto colt bobbed his head, and then turned to Snails with a grin. “She is pretty, isn’t she?”

“Yeah…” agreed Snails with his goofy grin.

“Hmm, I wonder…”

“Wonder what FW?” asked Rumble.

“I bet I could take a picture like that…”

“Yeah but what mare or filly would let you?” laughed the Pegasus colt.

“Hey, lots of ponies like my pictures…”

“But would any of them let you take a picture of them doing that?” Rumble pointed emphatically at the image. Featherweight’s face went red, and he grumbled under his breath. With a smirk of triumph, followed by a resigned sigh, Rumble carefully folded the image and set it back into its place among the magazine’s pages. “I guess I had better take this back home.”

“Oh well…I guess this didn’t…make it a totally…boring day.” sighed Peppermill.

“I have cookies.” blurted out Snails. The other colts looked at one another, surprised by this rare outburst.

“What about Snips? He already left.” exclaimed Pip.

“He probably took some from the jar before he left. He always does.” Snails said this with such a dead-pan inflection, that the rest of his friends couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“I can probably manage a few before I go.” chuckled Rumble. With a happy smile, the lanky unicorn led his friends up the stairs.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note

The description of the centerfold is an amalgamation of serveral mature images I've seen on Derpibooru

And I guess I'll have to flag the series as 'mature' for this...and other possible sequals *hint hint*