Darn it, Pavlov!

by The Gooey Center

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Pinkie Pie, Big Macintosh, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack
Length: 18118

Applejack awakes from the hospital to find that her body rejects apples with a vengence.

After awaking from the hospital, Applejack discovers that she can't even look at apples without nearly losing her lunch! The timing couldn't be any worse either, considering the large event the entire Apple Family is holding at Sweet Apple Acres in three days. Can Twilight help get Applejack over her issue before the event begins?

Update, May 11: Published the re-written chapter 2! Left certain parts out, put a few new parts in; it's more or less the same, but I'd like to think that I've ironed out the wrinkles enough to start up the final chapter!

Published 2012-03-26 14:14:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-05-31 20:48:24 UTC

Strange Conditions

“Nngh…”

She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes, even though she wanted to wake up; what she wanted was to get out of this uncomfortable bed.  The sheets draped over her were so thin she could feel a light breeze flowing right through it, and the mattress may as well have been made out of cardboard.  Upon making another small grumble, something on her right rustled next to the bed.

“Is she waking up, doc?!” she heard a nearby voice say.

“Mngh…” she managed to groan again, trying to muster the strength to fully wake up.  She felt tired, sore, and most of all…sick.  She felt so drained of energy; even trying to open her eyes felt like a challenge in and of itself.  Nonetheless, cracks of light began to form at the center of her vision as the muscles on her eyelids finally started to function.

“I think she’s coming to!” another voice said on her left, opposite the first voice.  Then she felt a nudge against the right side of her face; the voice on her right was apparently poking her with a hoof.  Her eyes may be open, but the images she could barely make out were still blurry, and she couldn't make out exactly who was being so intrusive upon her face.  Just as she wished in her head that the prodding would stop, another hoof was heard smacking the prodder away from her face.

“Ow!” the voice on her right yelled.  “The hay was that for?”

“Don’t do that, Rainbow!” the voice on her left said angrily.  Slowly shifting her eyes to the voice's source, she could make out through her slit-open eyes the purple figure glaring at the one on her right, speaking in a stern, but familiar, voice.  “She’s still bedridden!  She’s probably still sick!”

‘Sick?’  What in Equestria were they talking about?  Well, if she was in this crummy bed, and someone had said 'doctor'…why was she in the hospital just because of some sickness?  What the heck happened to her?

Finally mustering the strength to fully wake up, Applejack fully opened her eyes to see Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash sitting on either side of her hospital bed.  “Heya, girls…” the orange earth-pony said weakly.

“Oh thank goodness!” Rainbow said, throwing her arms around the farmer in joy.

Perhaps a little too happy, Rainbow was clenching Applejack's lightly-shuddering body a bit too hard.  Her arms were wrapped right around the earth-pony's torso, and the tight squeezing made, of all things, Applejack's stomach hurt the most.  “Ungh…Rainbow,” Applejack uttered, “you’re kinda crushing me…”

“Oh!” the cyan pegasus came out of her elated trance, opening her eyes and quickly releasing the earth-pony who took a deep breath of relief when Rainbow did.  “Sorry, AJ, we were just so worried.”  They still looked 'worried', actually; both Twilight and Rainbow were looking Applejack up and down, giving her a thorough examination with their eyes.  It made the farmer feel uncomfortable, to say the least.

Finished with regaining her breath, she looked up to the two ponies with her, rubbing a hoof against the back of her head as she tried hard, but unsuccessfully, to recall recent events.  “Um, what happened?  I can’t quite seem t’ remember…”

Twilight's face softened after hearing her friends speak a normal sentence, a lot of the initial worry washing away.  “We didn’t even know ourselves, at first,” the unicorn replied, “But after we rushed you here to the hospital, the doctor told us that it was apparently food poisoning.”

“Food poisoning?!” Applejack exclaimed.  It explained the stomach pain, but the answer left a lot more questions than it did answers.  “Whaddya mean, food poisoning?”

“What she means is that you ate a bad apple.”  Rainbow scorned Applejack like a mother would her guilty child.  “I told you that it looked funny, but you didn’t even give it a second thought before you shoveled down your throat.”  The pegasus was getting very animated as she recalled the incident, over-exaggerating her version of her bedridden friend gulping down a whole apple.  “And I thought I was the reckless one.”

Twilight turned away from watching Rainbow's performance to explain to Applejack in more detail.  “It only happened several hours ago.  You, me, and Rainbow were at Sweet Apple Acres talking about the upcoming…ah, 'Apple Family Bi-Annual Get-Together Celebration'.”

“If I were you, I’d choose a different name for the thing, but whatever,” Rainbow added backhandedly.  She had stopped her acting and reclined up against the wall of the hospital room a foot behind her, suddenly looking very bored with the situation.

“Don’t you remember any of this?” Twilight asked, concerned for her friend.

Applejack scrunched her eyebrows in thought, and she glanced up at the blindingly-white ceiling of her hospital room.  “…I s’pose it rings a bell,” Applejack replied, the memories beginning to return to her.

The doctor Rainbow had called for earlier came into the hospital room.  “Ah, good to see you awake, Applejack.”  The doctor smiled and walked over to the earth-pony's bed, holding a folder underneath one of his arms; he took up the folder and laid it against the foot of Applejack's thin mattress as he looked over the contents.  “It appears you’ve had a simple case of food poisoning, as I'm sure your friends have already told you about, judging by your expression.  Fortunately, we were able to quickly evacuate your stomach, and have been supplying a steady supply of nutrients with an IV,” he pointed a hoof to show Applejack the bag of fluid hanging on her right.  “We expect you to be ready to get back on your hooves within the next twelve to forty-eight hours.”

“What?  That won’t do,” Applejack argued, “mah family’s Get-Together is in three days—I don’t have time t’ lay around in bed!”

“Don’t worry AJ,” Twilight reassured her friend while placing a supportive hoof on her shoulder.  “We’ve helped you with time-dependent jobs before, and we can do it again!”

“Okay…jus’ please make sure that everything goes exactly th’ way it says on mah list.  I got it personally from mah uncle Apple Strudel, who’s headin’ the whole thing with Granny Smith.  Th’ two of ‘em work really hard every time this event goes on; I'd hate to see somethin’ go wrong.”

“We’ll take care of everything ‘till you get better and back on your hooves!” Rainbow encouraged.  “Just don’t worry, and we’ll go get Pinkie and Rarity and Fluttershy and take care of everything on your list.”

“Oh, that reminds me!  We still haven’t told the others about Applejack!” Twilight exclaimed.  Rainbow's large smile immediately flipped upside-down, and she cocked an eyebrow at the unicorn.

“Weren’t you going to call them?” Rainbow said.

“I thought you were,” Twilight replied.

The two mares looked at one another, then back to Applejack.  “Sorry about that,” Twilight apologized, “The others should have been here when you awoke.”

“Aw, it’s alright Twi, it’s not like I’m goin’ anywhere.”

“Yeah, but now you’re gonna get hounded once they all come charging in here,” Rainbow said.  “It would've been better if they arrived when you were still unconscious.”

Applejack chuckled.  “Heh heh, yeah, I suppose th’ six of us can all be like that, huh?”

*The next day, morning*

The nurse opened the door with her rump, walking in backwards while holding a cart with several plates of food.  Applejack had been staring at her bottom hooves on the end of her bed for the past hour, so the sudden company was a nice change of pace.  “Time for breakfast, Applejack!  I’m sure after a day of not eating anything, you’re dying for something other than a bag strapped to your arm!”

“Darn tootin’ I am!” Applejack declared.  “So what’s the local cuisine?”

“Actually, your family back at Sweet Apple Acres was kind enough to send you their own complements!  We don’t usually do this, but since you’re recovery doesn’t require a specific diet, we’re letting it slide.”  She swung the cart around to reveal to Applejack several mouth-watering apple-theme morning meals.  Aromatic apple pancakes, apple waffles coated in apple jam, and an apple pie on the side with a hearty glass of apple cider.  “I almost took a bite of it myself, it smelled so good!”

But when the fragrance hit Applejack’s nose, something unexpected happened.  The earth-pony had to keep back the sudden upwelling of vomit shooting up her throat.  In seconds, she had gone from A-Okay to far beyond nauseous.  She swallowed hard to force the acid back down; the nurse easily noticed Applejack’s sudden distress.  “Applejack, are you alright?!”

Applejack felt about ready to keel over.  “Yeah…yeah, Ah’m fine, just some spontaneous nausea, that’s all.  Prob’ly a resulta not eatin’ for a day.  Here, hand me a piece of that pie, Ah need to get me something to eat.”

The nurse cautiously grabbed a piece of the pie and placed it on a pewter plate that was on the cart.  She handed it over to the earth-pony, and Applejack reached over to grab it, but when her eyes landed on the slices of fruit inside of the filling, the bile in her stomach made to heave itself out of her mouth again.

And unfortunately for the nurse standing right next to Applejack’s bed, the nausea won the second round with the apple-farmer, and spilled out all over the poor nurse’s front.

“Twilight, what the hay’s WRONG with me?!”

Applejack had grabbed the purple unicorn by the shoulders and shoved her friend’s face into hers.  She was at a complete loss at what to do.  “Every time Ah see an apple, or smell one—even the very thought of it righ’ now is making me sick t’ mah stomach!  I threw up on mah own nurse, fer Celestia's sake!”

Twilight pushed up against Applejack, putting some distance between her and the apprehensive earth-pony.  The unicorn seemed unusually calm, as apposed to the exasperated earth-pony lying in bed next to her.  “So you say that this nausea only begins once you realize apples are in the vicinity?”

“Like Ah said, even the thought of ‘em righ’ now is making me sick t’ mah stomach…”

Twilight scrunched her brow.  “I…I think I may know what’s going on here, but you’re not going to like it.”

“What?  What is it!?”

“It’s…” Twilight was hesitant to answer.

“Out with it, Twi!”

“I think it’s classical conditioning!” the unicorn yelled, then promptly covered her mouth with her hooves as if she’d just uttered a curse word.

“…You’re gonna hafta clarify,” Applejack said plainly.

Twilight faltered with her words again.  “Classical conditioning is a type of thing involved with psychology.  It’s when stimulus creates a response.  In your case, you got food poisoning from that bad apple you ate, but the poisoning was specifically caused by some bacteria or virus that was in the apple.  Unfortunately, your body is under the impression now that it’s apples that will cause such a sickness, not some germ.  As such, when you try to eat an apple, your body will try to counteract what it believes is something that’ll make you sick by inducing vomiting.”

“…You’re kiddin’, right?” Applejack asked.  “You’ve got t’be kiddin’, ther’s no way you’re right!  I—no, no!  Are you tryin’ to say that I CAN’T eat apples anymore!?  How does that even work?!”

Twilight looked at the ground and rubbed her shoulder.  “I…it’s hard to say for sure.  This kind of thing differs between everypony.  I actually have the same problem with macaroni and cheese—but not on your caliber.  I can stand around it—heck, I can even eat it without guaranteed vomiting, but I do feel pretty nauseous when I do.  With you, though…you can’t even be in the same room as an apple without feeling the effects.”

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me…there’s gotta be some kinda way to prevent it, right?  Somethin’ that can settle mah stomach before I get sick?”

“Well, with me, I just kind of stopped eating macaroni and cheese altogether.  It wasn’t like I needed the stuff to live, so quit it.  But with you…”

“Twi, I live and breathe apples!  You can’t just waddle on in here and tell me I can’t eat apples ever again!”

“Hey,” Twilight snapped back, “You’re the one that called ME in here.  I’m just telling you the facts.  I've never even seen such a problem present itself this badly—only a single bad apple, and that's all it took.  Usually with classical conditioning, one requires exposure over an extended time,” Twilight explained.  “That apple you ate had something really nasty in it, though; like I said yesterday, you were out cold for several hours.  Perhaps it's not all that hard to imagine that your body was shocked into treating it like poison…”

“But…but wha’ about the Apple Family Bi-Annual Get-Together Celebration?”

“Actually,” Twilight interrupted, “Rainbow and I went to the trouble of officially shortening the name to the acronym ‘AFBi’; though your family hasn't taken a liking to it, it is a shorter term that takes from the words—”

“Yeahyeahyeah that’s great an’ all, Twi,” Applejack rushed.  “What Ah’m sayin’ is that if I can’t even LOOK at an’ apple, how th’ hay am I s’posed to go the Celebration?”

“…”  Twilight didn’t know what to say.  She knew quite a bit about psychology, and she knew very well that not only would rehabilitating Applejack’s subconscious be a challenge, but she knew that trying to do so in only two and a half days would be near-impossible.  “…I’m sorry Applejack, but I don’t think there’s much we can do in only two and a half days…”

An angry Applejack threw the hospital bed covers off of herself and onto the ground, then yanked her IV right out of her arm; the doctor had said she no longer required it, but it had been placed back in after her little incident with the nurse and the apple breakfast earlier that morning.  The farmer leapt off the hospital bed and onto the white tile floor right next to Twilight.  Staring deep into the unicorn’s eyes, the earth-pony said, “I don’t care what it takes—we’re gonna do EVERYTHING POSSIBLE in these next ‘two and a half days’.”

“You sure about this?” Pinkie Pie asked hesitantly to the orange earth-pony at Sugar Cube Corner.  She was holding a golden-delicious apple behind her back, and Twilight was sitting a few yards away from the two, examining closely and holding a clipboard and pen close to her with her magic.

“Pinkie, I don’t have th’ TIME t’ argue,” Applejack replied, a white cloth blindfold over her eyes as she stood in front of Pinkie, “The Celebration is in two days—that only gives me a day, perhaps a day and a half at best to get over this dang apple-sickness.”

“Very well…” Pinkie replied.

“Remember, Pinkie,” Twilight added from the sidelines, “wait a little bit first—the point of this exercise is to have AJ not know when the apple is in front of her.”

“Yeah yeah, I know…” Pinkie replied, waving the hoof at Twilight that held the apple, accidentally hitting Applejack in the process.  “Oh!  Sorry, Applejack, that was the—”

“Huurg—” Applejack was reeling on the ground, trying to keep in her lunch.

“…apple,” Pinkie finished saying.

The infuriated farmer grabbed her blindfold and tossed it onto the ground in a rage.  “This is ridiculous!  I can’t even SMELL a dang apple without havin’ to lose mah lunch!  Twilight, ther’s gotta be some kinda magic spell that you can try out on me!”

“Sorry, but there’s not many magic spells pertaining to psychological things involving conditioning…and even then, I’m not the best at mind spells.”

“Well, let’s find somepony who can, then!”

“…Honestly, Applejack, I think it’d be easier if we continue your current…training.  Though perhaps we should try something a little less intense than smell.”  The unicorn turned to Pinkie.  “Do you happen to have any pictures of apples on-hoof?”

“Okay, now you’re just patronizin’ me,” Applejack barked.

“I’m trying to help you Applejack,” Twilight replied sternly.  “Now, if we want to get you over this, there are two ways of doing it: either shove a real apple into your face and hoping you get used to it—we already know how well that’s going to go over with your body—and then there’s the baby steps approach, where we start small and finish with the real deal.  Though, both take time to fully work, and I realize that time isn’t exactly on our side here,” Twilight quickly added, noting how Applejack was about to speak up, “but it’s the cold hard truth.”

Applejack stared at the ground, considering her options—not that she really had any good ones to choose from.  “Fine…go get a stinkin’ picture of an apple.”

“Great!” Twilight said as Applejack mumbled something underneath her breath.  “Pinkie, go fetch a picture of an apple!”

“Already got it, Twilight!” Pinkie said, pulling said picture out of nowhere.  The simple piece of printer paper depicted a shining red apple large and proud in the center.

“Um…great!”  Twilight levitated the paper out of Pinkie’s hoof and brought if over to Applejack.  “Now, how do you feel right now?”

Applejack stared hard at the picture.  “Not TOO bad…Ah mean, it’s just that this is still makin’ me a wee bit queasy…boy, that food poisonin’ really messed me up somethin’ bad, didn’t it?”

“Just keep at it, AJ,” Twilight encouraged, “if you really want to be ready by the time of your family’s celebration, then you’re going to have to train yourself nonstop.”

“Piece of cake,” Applejack said, staring harder and harder at the paper.  After having a ten-minute staring contest with the paper, the farmer’s look of queasiness had vanished completely, and she was practically glaring a hole into the paper.  “Ha!” she shouted suddenly at the picture, startling a bored Twilight and Pinkie, “Ah could do this all day long!”  Her face darted to the purple unicorn standing right behind the floating piece of paper.  “Ah think Ah’m ready for the next step, Twi!  We gotta keep th’ gears a-rollin’, so what’s next?” she said confidently.

“Pinkie,” Twilight said.

The pink earth-pony held up the same golden delicious apple from before, and when Applejack turned and looked at it, she started to dry-heave.

“I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with her being in my boutique, considering what you three want to do…” Rarity said uncomfortably.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Cake kicked us out of Sugar Cube Corner, since they didn’t want Applejack throwing up on their floor or anything,” Pinkie said nonchalantly.

“And so you decided to bring her HERE instead!?”

“C’mon Rarity,” Twilight pleaded, “We don’t really want to go to Fluttershy’s because of all the animals there,”

“We can’t even go to Dashie’s since her house is made up of clouds,” Pinkie added.

“And Sweet Apple Acres is a no-go,” Applejack finished.  “Considerin’ mah current problem, Ah’d probably lose it the minute I step into the apple orchard.”

“Why don’t you all just go over to Twilight’s library, then?” Rarity asked.

“I’ve been helping the Apple Family with the planning process of the Celebration in Applejack’s absence; half the family is over at the library right now,” Twilight replied.  “Applejack has gotten over the picture of an apple, but considering the Apple Family, you can’t except them NOT to have plenty of apples on-hoof in the library.  We need a place to train AJ, slowly.”

Rarity gave a half-grumble, half-whine.  “Hrm…I suppose, as long as you stay away from my dresses,” she said threateningly.  “At LEAST a ten-foot radius—no, twenty!  I need a twenty-foot radius between Applejack and my beautiful projects at all times!”

“How generous of you, Rarity…” Applejack said under her breath at the white unicorn.

“I’ll move some of my designs out of that corner over there, and then you three can train in that spot—and not move from it.”

After Rarity moved four pony-mannequins out of the corner in the right side of her boutique’s lobby, Pinkie, Twilight, and Applejack sat down and got to business.

“Okay, since a real apple turned out too strong for you,” Twilight said, “we’re going to have to start with a smaller ‘next step’.  Pinkie, if you would.”

Pinkie grabbed a sheet of stickers out from deep within her labyrinth of cotton-candy hair.  “Here you go, Twilight,” she said as the unicorn used her magic to grab the sticker sheet out of Pinkie’s hoof.

“Uh, so now since I can look at a pic of an apple, Ah’m gonna take a step up by lookin’ at a sticker of an apple?” Applejack asked sardonically.

“No, silly filly,” Pinkie teased, “It’s a scratch-and-sniff sticker!”

“Given how you’re so sickened by the smell of real apples,” Twilight elaborated, trying to explain their purpose to a confused Applejack, “we thought it’d be best if you were to first smell the artificial thing.”

“Ah kinda doubt that the difference ‘tween real and fake’ll make much difference to me, Twi,” the earth-pony said, just as Twilight glanced over to Pinkie and gave a nod, to which Pinkie held up a previously-unseen white tablecloth with something round underneath it, and the pink pony blew softly over the cloth to Applejack; the farmer got a single whiff of apples, and she began to taste acid in her mouth.  “Fine,” she snapped at the two ponies, “you win.  Gimme the gosh-darn sticker.”

Twilight held out the sticker sheet to Applejack, who swiped it out of her hoof.  Peeling off the one sticker on the sheet that depicted a green apple on it, Applejack glared at it and proceeded to scratch it, accepting its challenge.  After giving it a fair amount of rigorous scratching, the earth-pony brought the sticker close up to her nose and gave it a whiff.  Rarity was watching on the other side of the room worriedly, along with a more-enthusiastic Twilight and Pinkie.

The synthetic scent entered Applejack’s nose, and her tricked psychology immediately took notice.  She could feel her stomach already wanting to evacuate itself, but the taste of acid didn’t start.  She could actually keep back the nausea at this level.  “Hey—Ah’m not feelin’ too sick!” she cried eagerly.

“That’s great!” Twilight exclaimed.  “In only a matter of two hours, you’ve already beaten two steps—the velocity of your improvement is outstanding!”

“Perhaps Applejack’s body actually wants to get better as much as she does,” Pinkie chirped.

“Or perhaps her body knows deep down that the thing it’s been eating since birth isn’t really a threat,” Twilight replied, looking over confidently at the orange earth-pony.  “Though, considering that, one would think you wouldn’t have gotten so sick over them in the first place…”

“Yeah yeah, enough with th’ speculations and all,” Applejack rushed, “Let’s get back to our crash-course!  What’s the next step?”

“Don’t you think you should practice a bit more with the sticker?” Twilight asked nervously.

“You kiddin’?  After mah performance jus’ now, I’m ready for any—”

Pinkie blew another hard breeze into Applejack’s face from the ‘mystery object’ under the tablecloth, and the smell made Applejack dry-heave to the floor, prompting a hasty “OUTOUTOUT” by Rarity.

“Okay, your rate of improvement has proved to be shockingly fast,” Twilight mentioned as her, Applejack, and Pinkie all walked the dirt road of Ponyville’s outskirts, to the small hut that belonged to one Fluttershy.  “And I think we may already be ready to show you the real deal.”

“What’re ya talkin’ about?” Applejack said in a defeated tone.  “You saw back at Rarity’s bowteak jus’ how bad I still am—I still can’t even smell a real apple!”

“Actually, you can,” Twilight said with a smile on her face.

Applejack cocked an eyebrow at her unicorn friend.  Then Twilight pointed her eyes just above Applejack’s head, and the farmer looked up to see a golden delicious on a string of a makeshift fishing pole that had been hanging just out of her sight by Pinkie, who had been walking behind the two mares.  Applejack only just noticed that the smell of apples had been wafting into her nose the entire trip, but now that she was looking one of the forbidden fruits in the face, the nausea immediately hit her.  “Huagh…!” she uttered, having to kneel on the ground.

“Drat, I was hoping that’d shock you into step four,” Twilight said, patting the sick mare’s back.  “Don’t worry, AJ,” the unicorn reassured, “we’ll take care of this; your progress is a testament to that.  Now then, let’s hustle over to Fluttershy’s and nip this in the bud.”

“Yeah, let’s,” Applejack declared while getting back up, her nausea having left her surprisingly faster than it used to.

Objective Methods

Pinkie’s face lit up when she saw the yellow pegasus’s face slip just past the crack between Fluttershy’s cottage and its front door.  Cautious as always, Fluttershy was making sure it wasn’t a threat that had come around in the middle of the day and knocked on her front door.  “Hey there, Fluttershy!” Pinkie cried out, making the cowering pegasus yelp in surprise.  “How’s it goin’?”

Gaining her bearings, Fluttershy stiffened her back to stand up straight, and she opened up the door completely.  Before she could say ‘hello,’ her eyes landed on Applejack, who was standing behind the grinning Pinkie, next to a rather somber Twilight.  Applejack herself looked as grim as could be, making Fluttershy take an instinctive gasp as she held a hoof up to her mouth.

“Oh—oh my,” the timid mare managed to utter, “Applejack, are you alright?”

Applejack’s lightly-glazed eyes had been absently staring at Fluttershy’s hooves on the ground.  Hearing her name being called was just enough to get the farmer’s mind off her cringing stomach.  “Eh?  Ah suppose Ah’ve had better days…”  She lowered her head and went back to staring at Fluttershy’s hooves.

Seeing how sorely confused the pegasus was, Twilight cut in.  “We were hoping we could use your cottage here as a place to help AJ get over her apple problem.  We’ve only got ourselves two days before that Celebration begins.”

Fluttershy’s inner nurse was already kicking in.  “What?  An apple problem?” she gasped, “What’s wrong?”

Applejack sniffed indifferently.  “T’ make a long story short, mah body wants t’ toss its cookies every time Ah see or even smell an apple.  Some kinda conditioner or something.”

Pinkie’s brow furrowed at the answer.  “Aren’t you suppose to use shampoo before the conditioner?” she asked to the other three ponies, who only looked back at her in disbelief.  “What?  That’s how I do my mane, I dunno about you three—”

“It’s because of conditioning,” Twilight interrupted with a huff, “not conditioner.”  She was half-correcting Applejack, half-rebutting Pinkie.  “Anyways, you don’t mind if we just worked on this here at your place, do you?”

“Oh, of course not!” Fluttershy exclaimed softly, ushering the three ponies into her animal-filled house.  “I’d rather you not do this in my house, though…if you don’t mind, that is; you don’t mind, do you?” she asked sheepishly.  “Perhaps you could practice in the backyard, maybe?”

“S’long as we ain’t around other ponies for them t’ watch me humiliate mahself,” Applejack replied with her head hung low.  Fluttershy nodded in reply and led the three ponies through her spacious living room, all the while shooing away her curious roommates as they tried to dive their noses into the strangers’ faces, all but an equally-curious Pinkie trying to ignore them.  After reaching the back door of the cottage, Fluttershy opened it up and showed the three out.

“Here we are, wide open ground for you to practice, um, getting better!” Fluttershy announced, spreading an arm wide to show off the span of land behind her house.  Thinking on her own words, Fluttershy became confused.  “…Actually, how do you do that, anyway?—getting Applejack to not be sick by apples, I mean.  …Actually, why is she getting sick by apples in the first place?”

“It’s like Twilight said earlier, Fluttershy,” Pinkie replied honestly.  “She used her conditioner before her shampoo.”

“Oh, um, okay.”  Fluttershy didn’t question Pinkie’s words, and unfortunately Twilight hadn’t overheard so that she could give the right response; the unicorn was already leading the ghastly apple-farmer out to the center of the fenced acre.  The pegasus called out, “So, uh, please, take as much time as you need, and I’m sure that perhaps maybe I could help out if you need it—”

Twilight chuckled at her friend’s burning desire to help.  “It’s quite alright Fluttershy; no need to get all riled up, but we’re just short on time and need this place to work.”  She ushered Pinkie over to join with her and Applejack.  Fluttershy was still standing in the middle of the doorway, watching on, feeling like she hadn’t done enough.

“Yes, yes, okay, you go ahead and work,” Fluttershy rushed.  “Please, I implore you.  Just tell me if you need anything!” she called out, gently, and closed the back door slowly; even as she closed the door, she continued to watch the three, waiting for them to suddenly say something to her, something they may have forgotten to mention; the girls only stood in the backyard and watched Fluttershy watch them, before she finally closed the door completely, ending with a slow CLICK.  Then top of a pink-maned head popped up from behind the window next to the door, the head continuing to watch its friends.

Twilight only looked away and smiled, shaking her head.  “Oh, Fluttershy…  Anyways, Applejack.”  The seriousness had returned to her voice, and the mood was becoming heavy again.  “We still need you to get used to smelling an apple.  Are you ready?”

Applejack braced herself on her four legs, locking her knees but still softly shaking; she felt like she was playing chicken with a speeding train.  The blonde mare stared into Twilight and Pinkie’s eyes with flaring determination, prepared to take on the world.  “Ah’m as ready as Ah’ll ever be,” the earth-pony replied confidently.

Despite the rapid progress they had been making before, getting Applejack used to the smell of a real apple was turning out to be quite the high hurdle.  Twilight knew that it wasn’t the actual smell of apples that set her friend off, but rather the fact that Applejack knew if she could smell an apple that it meant there was one in the vicinity.  Her body just couldn’t comply with being around apples, period.

Several hours had passed, and by now the sky was blending into a fantastic shade of orange-red over the horizon as the sun neared closer and closer to the edge of the visible earth.  During the time spent at Fluttershy’s cottage, the pale yellow pegasus had come out to give the three determined ponies a late lunch and glasses of lemonade.  Applejack had remarked then on how she could still eat every fruit, sans apples; in a snide insult to herself, prompting concern from her surrounding friends, she implied that she’ll have to return to work for Cherry Jubilee, or perhaps work on a lemon farm.  The acidic citrus from the lemonade was nothing compared to the stomach acid burning up her throat—by this point, the vomit counter had reached four.  Despite her harsh attitude, though, Applejack wasn’t ready to give up yet.  She couldn’t give up.

Fluttershy opened u the back door of the cottage and greeted Twilight and Pinkie, who were standing up against the back of the house as they watched the coming nightfall in the distance.

“How’s it going with Applejack?” the pegasus whispered just out of earshot of the farmer, her eyes landing on the blonde earth-pony slumped over the wooden fence on the other side of Fluttershy’s small ranch; Applejack’s back was facing the others, she herself grimacing at the beautiful sunset glowing over her.

Twilight shook her head slowly and sighed.  “Since the sticker, we’ve literally made no progress.  I don’t really think it’s so much the apples that are causing her to get sick—we’ve already seen how quickly she’s improved in the past—but the fact that she’s been having to basically swallow the same lunch over and over this entire day definitely hasn’t helped out with our training—well, MY training,” she added, glancing over at the Pinkie earth-pony on the other side of the door.  “…Pinkie’s been, well, she just kinda stood around and talked over me.”

“But I was trying to liven up the mood, Twilight!” Pinkie replied in defense.  “And how could I talk when you were always talking to Applejack?”

“YOU were being a distraction,” Twilight stated matter-of-factly and looked back out to the low-hanging sun in the distance.

“Twilight,” Pinkie announced, regaining the unicorn’s attention, “I think a doctor once said it best when she said that ‘laughter is the best medicine’?  And, well, I AM the element of laughter, after all!”

Twilight gave a huffy sigh.  “Please tell me you don’t seriously believe that, Pinkie.  And don’t even get me started on ‘a doctor.’  Anyways,” she turned back to Fluttershy, who had been silently listening to their back and forth, “tomorrow is the last day before the Apple Family’s Celebration, and the entire event only lasts the one day.”  She was only giving her friends a reminder about the event—they should know, since they had helped the previous two days in setting things up.  “Applejack is one of the most talented of her entire family; she was going to perform her athletic stunts, and it was going to be one of the highlights of the event.  Not only Applejack, but her entire family is going to be left feeling empty if we can’t fix this within the next day.”

“Perhaps they could just keep out any apples at the event…?” Fluttershy offered.

Twilight shook her head slowly.  “Not only would that be a near impossibility for the ‘Apple Family,’ but Applejack herself had forbade us from even suggesting the idea to Granny Smith, as Pinkie and I had considered the option earlier too.  She doesn’t want her problem to be a hindrance on the rest of her family, I suppose.”

“That’s good-ol’ Applejackie for you!” Pinkie cheered and relaxed flat against the cottage with a content sigh.

“Yeah…‘good old Applejack,’” Twilight repeated sarcastically.

“What she probably needs is some shut-eye,” Fluttershy said to the two, looking back at the orange mare still draped over the fence on the other side of the yard.  “Tomorrow you guys can restart the training, but I’m sure that after she gets some good rest, she’ll be more than ready to face an apple!”

“We can only hope so, Fluttershy…” Twilight replied unconfidently.

Applejack awoke to the sound of a rooster crowing in the distance, telling all within a mile’s radius that the morning had arrived.  The earth-pony was used to hearing as much—there were plenty of roosters back the farm; she couldn’t even consider going back home, given how sick apples made her, so she stuck around at Fluttershy’s place and slept in the guest room.  Fluttershy had a chicken coop herself, so it was no surprise that there were also roosters about.

But, something didn’t sit right with Applejack.  Rather, something felt wrong in that it felt so familiar.  If she was at Fluttershy’s, her bed shouldn’t feel so…right.

Except, this wasn’t Fluttershy’s bed.  This wasn’t even Fluttershy’s house.

Applejack’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets, her eyelids springing open to reveal that her worst nightmare was coming true.  She looked around and immediately recognized the room as her own bedroom—with the green walls, the hat and rope rack near her bed, the apple-themed pillow beneath her head and even the small floor-pillow on the opposite wall for Winona.

Applejack wouldn’t dare even look outside, except that she couldn’t help herself.  Turning to her right, her wide eyes met with the vast apple orchard outside, along with the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres.  Applejack caught a glimpse of the banners and decorations around the barn outside before she had to quickly turn away; with nothing else to do, she leapt out of bed in order to distance herself from her window.  She’d only just woken up, and already her mouth tasted of acid.

The poor earth-pony was on the verge of hyperventilating.  Now what was she going to do?!  She was stuck here—her own house, a prison!  It was an APPLE ORCHARD, for Celestia’s sake—the smell of the fruit was everywhere!  With no idea of what to do, Applejack simply looked up at the ceiling, took in a deep breath,

“AAAUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The sound of rushed hoofsteps from the outside hallway sounded, and got louder; Twilight slammed the bedroom door open with her back hooves and sprang inside to see what was wrong.  Though, all she was a sweaty, wide-eyed Applejack standing next to the bed, breathing hard and staring at Twilight with a combination of confusion, desperation, and rage.

Applejack leapt at the unicorn and grabbed her by the shoulders, shoving her face into Twilight’s to meet eye-to-eye.  “Wha’dya DO!?” she yelled in her friend’s face, “Why’d ya BRING me here?!”

Twilight only stared back at the panting earth-pony holding onto her.  Looking surprisingly calm, Twilight then tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes at Applejack, surveying the mare.  “…How do you feel?” she said carefully, levitating her pen and clipboard with yesterday’s notes in towards her.

Applejack, taken aback by the question, shoved herself off of Twilight and backed away from her like she was a hungry bear—or an apple.  “‘How do Ah’—YOU DRAGGED ME HERE IN MAH SLEEP!” she practically screamed at her friend.

“But…are you nauseated right now?” Twilight asked with another tilt of her head and a cocked eyebrow, completely waving away Applejack’s fury.

“How the heck’m Ah s’posed to LEAVE this place?” Applejack demanded, her anger not subsiding; she felt about ready to tear Twilight a new one.

Just then, a cotton-candy mane popped out from under Applejack’s bed.  “WhoawhoawhoawhoaWHOA, now.  Can everypony please be level-headed here?” Pinkie said as she clamored out from below Applejack’s mattress.

Applejack’s anger had suddenly vanished, if only for a moment, to stare blankly at Pinkie.  Then, she looked back down at the bottom of her bed, of which only stood six inches above the floor.  “P—what?  How’d you…?”

“You had a dust bunny hiding deep under your bed,” Pinkie stated casually as if it were a sufficient explanation.  She held up one of her pink hooves to show a lump of dust, strangely the size and shape of Fluttershy’s bunny Angel.  “See?”

“…aaanyway,” Twilight began, her head turning away slowly from the lump of dirt and back over to Applejack, “Back to the topic at hoof.  You certainly don’t LOOK all that sick, AJ.  Now, take a deep breath and get a level head.”  The unicorn waited as her friend closed her eyes and sighed after having taken a deep breath in through her nose.  “…Now then, are you feeling alright?”

Applejack took a moment to stop and think on Twilight’s words.  How was she feeling?  “…Surprising’ly, Ah feel pretty good,” the earth-pony admitted.  “An’—wait a minutes, Ah feel perfectly fine!”  She started to jump up and down in excitement, as she realized that, despite being in the middle of an apple orchard, she felt perfectly fine—she’d overcome the smell of apples!  Applejack continued to leap around her room with a loud whoop.

Twilight allowed a long-held breath to escape her lungs.  “Thank Celestia it worked, too,” the unicorn said with a sigh.  “I think your body really does want to get better just as much as you do, Applejack; Pinkie and I brought you here in the middle of the night, hoping that the smell of the Acres in your sleep would assist you, to give you the boost we couldn’t provide.”

Applejack paused form her hopping to look back at the grinning purple and pink ponies standing next to her.  “That was still a pretty nasty thing to do, Twi,” Applejack scolded, but she couldn’t keep the giddy smile off of ther face while she did.  “Imagine if your plan didn’t work.  I’da prob’ly keeled over right on the spot.”

“I took the necessary precautions and calculations, Applejack,” Twilight informed matter-of-factly.  “It’s not like we just went and said, ‘Hey, let’s go toss our friend into the fire and see what happens!’”

“Sure seems like tha’s what’cha did, but Ah suppose Ah trust ya enough,” the farmer replied, the smile still stuck on her face.  “Anyway, Ah’m still kinda stuck here in mah own house now, so what’s the next step?”

Twilight’s lips sealed tightly, and she turned to look at Pinkie, standing on her right.  Pinkie shrugged, but she had a smile of her own that rivaled that of Applejack’s in width and brightness.  “Let’s play some games to celebrate!” the party pony replied to both Twilight and Applejack.

“We can’t just stop, Pinkie,” Twilight rebuked, “Not when we’ve suddenly made so much headway.”  She turned back to Applejack, the smile of the farmer’s face dampened, but not completely lost.  “As far as making any new progress goes…we’re still working on that.”  Twilight rubbed the back of her neck with her hoof in embarrassment, trying to avoid her earth-pony friend’s gaze.

“But we shouldn’t worry so much anymore, right?” Pinkie shot in, trying liven up the mood, “Now that we’re here at Sweet Apple Acres, you’ve got your whole family to help you out, see?”  As Pinkie spoke, she reached out to the handle on Applejack’s bedroom door, opening it up to show Big Mac and Granny Smith standing in the hallway smiling at the farmer, along with an older brown stallion with a white handlebar moustache and goatee, and wearing a goofy green getup.

“Oi, if it ain’t lil’ Applejack!” Apple Strudel exclaimed when he saw the orange mare walk sheepishly towards her inviting family in the hallway.  He came up slowly and shakily to her, and when in arms distance, gave her blonde head a thorough rub-down with his hoof.  “Noogie-noogie-noogie!  Ahaha.”

“Hey, Uncle Strudel,” Applejack said enthusiastically while patting down her ruffled-up mane.  “How’s the setup for the Apple Family Bi-Annual Get-Together Celebration?”

“It’s been going wonderfully, dearie,” Granny Smith replied, “Your friends have been so much help, and now that some of the distant family is arriving, they’ve started helping out with the food, decorations, such-and-such.  Right, Big Mac?”

“Eeyup.”

“So,” Applejack began, addressing her biological family, “How much do y’all know about his little problem Ah’m havin’?”

“We’ve pretty much told them everything,” Twilight replied from behind the orange mare, grabbing her southern-style hat off the hat-rack near the inside of the door, and placing it atop the farmer’s head with her magic, “…at least, we tried to…”

“Yeah,” Strudel spoke up, “these friends uh yours’ve been talkin’ about how you’ve given up the apple business!”  Applejack cringed slightly at the allegation and averted her uncle’s gaze.  “What in Equestria made ya wanna stop with apples?”

“It’s not that Ah don’t want to, Uncle,” Applejack tried to explain, “It’s that Ah simply can’t.  Mah body won’t let me eat any apples without getting’ me all sick.”

“Feh,” Strudel replied, waving off what Applejack was saying, having heard the same thing from Twilight earlier and not giving any real thought into it, “You young’uns and yer fancy body-problems.  You wanna know the best way t’ remedy yer problem?  Just eat apples ‘till you can’t eat no more!  Here—Ah’ll help ya get started.”  The old pony took off the feathered green hat atop his scalp to reveal a fresh, shiny red apple, perfectly balanced on his head.

Applejack eyed the apple nervously, as her stomach was already starting to protest the fruit that wasn’t even in her mouth.  Big Mac noticed his sister’s anxiety and quickly jumped in.  “Ahm, Uncle Strudel?  Ah don’t think that’s th’ best of ideas—”

“Eat up!” Strudel shouted, and shoved the produce down Applejack’s gullet.

Everybody’s eyes grew wide with terror—sans Strudel, who looked rather aloof and pleased with himself as he stood back to rejoin Granny and Big Mac, watching Applejack as she stood perfectly still, the half-chewed apple plump in her cheeks.  Applejack didn’t move; she froze herself in place as if the smallest movement would set her stomach off, which wasn’t entirely far from the truth.  She just barely unclenched her jaw before her antagonist began to recognize the texture of the venom in her mouth.

The earth-pony’s vision began to blur.  She managed to shove the mashed apple out of her mouth with her tongue before her stomach started acting up.  ‘Dang it, body!’ Applejack yelled at herself in her head, ‘the heck’s wrong with you?!  Why can’t you just realize that an apple is an apple?!’  Applejack watcher her friends and family through glazed eyes as she could feel her abdomen rumble uncontrollably, ignoring her council.  ‘Oh no you don’t.  You’re not winning, not this time!’  With the apples out of her mouth, Applejack began to swallow whatever saliva she had; it was a far shot from a glass of water, but the nearest sink was downstairs, and she knew she didn’t have that kind of time to keep down the nausea.  Surprisingly enough, it was actually working, and the earth-pony steadied herself on four hooves spread out over the ground.

“She’s doing it…!” Twilight said, awestruck.  “On her own, she’s doing it!  She’s overcoming herself!”

“Sounds painful,” Strudel replied absentmindedly, not realizing how distraught his kin was, and was more concerned that she had just spat out the perfectly good apples he had given her.

‘Not this time…’ Applejack continued to repeat in her head, ‘Not this time…!  Not this—oh, confound it—’

Applejack turned to the hallway window next to her, and she clumsily opened it as she flung her head out over the window ledge.  Everybody cringed and looked away at the sound of the mare relieving herself of last night’s supper, even Strudel.

Pinkie watched, frowning and ears back, as Twilight continued to hose down the side of the Apples’ house that Applejack had hit.  “You’d think with so much throwing-up she’s been doing, she wouldn’t have any up left in her to throw…” Pinkie said sadly.

“Yeah…” Twilight replied automatically, focusing instead on washing the house.  “…Wait, what?”

“Huh?” Pinkie replied.  “Anyway, what’re we gonna do now, Twilight?  Do you think that whole incident helped Jackie, or did it make her worse?”

Twilight considered what had just happened.  Basic logic would say that it wasn’t a good thing that poor Applejack had just thrown up again, but at this point, Twilight didn’t know what to expect anymore.  “I don’t know, Pinkie.  I suppose only time will be able to tell.”

Applejack herself was back in bed, despite it being high noon.  Her family had insisted that she eat some kind of breakfast or brunch before returning to sleep, but upon finding out that there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the house that didn’t include apples in some way or another, they had to give up on feeding the mare.

“Was it a bad idea?—taking Applejack here to Sweet Apple Acres, I mean,” Pinkie asked again.

Twilight huffed a little, she herself feeling drained from the events going on with Applejack, and getting tired of her friend’s ranting of unanswerable questions.  “I don’t know, Pinkie.  Only time will tell.”

Pinkie’s cocked an eyebrow in Twilight’s direction.  “Well then, what’re we waiting for?  Let’s go find Time and demand that he tell us what we need to know!”

Before Twilight could make a remark about Pinkie’s idea, Big Mac came around the corner of the house and walked up to Twilight and Pinkie.  “So, uh,” he started, “Just how th’ heck did she get that bad?” he said, referring to his sister.  Big Mac didn’t always have something to say, but when he did, he got straight to the point.

“It’s as simple as I had said before to your Uncle Strudel,” Twilight explained, “AJ ate a bad apples.  That’s all there is to it.  Her body thinks apples will make her sick again if she eats them.”

“Then wouldn’t havin’ her eat an apple without her throwin’ up work just fine?” Big Mac questioned.  “If she ate one an’ didn’t puke, her body’d realize that there’s nothin’ wrong with apples, right?”

Twilight shook her head sadly, making both Big Mac and a hopeful Pinkie’s spirit’s drop.  “Not in my experience it won’t.  Like I mentioned yesterday to Applejack, I have a similar problem with macaroni and cheese.  Unlike Applejack, though, I can eat it and still keep it down, but no matter how many time I try to eat it, I never get any better.”  The unicorn looked down at the ground as she continued to explain.  “Her mind has been effectively tricked into crying ‘poison,’ and the only way to really fix it would to be re-tricking her brain, back to the ‘default,’ as it were.  Reversing an effect that wasn’t even intended in the first place is kind of a hard thing to do, though.”

“Well…” Pinkie started, “Isn’t there any nearby puh-sigh-cologists that we can talk to fix Jackie, you think?”

Twilight scrunched her brow at the question.  “Well…no, not really.  I mean, psychology is one of the things I’ve studied long and hard on—after all, I was the only one who even knew AJ’s problem was a psychological one in the first place.  Not many ponies look into these sorts of things.”

Big Mac spoke up.  “Now, Twah’light, I think it’s really best that we get an expert in here.  I know that yer intent on curin’ mah sister, but if we want her to be perfect before the Celebration tomorrow, we’re gonna need professional help.”

Twilight didn’t want to have to hear her friends tell her, but she knew deep down that there was no way she was going to do this on her own.  “I…I suppose.  I just wanted so badly to do this myself—heh, now that I think about it, I’m being as stubborn as Applejack was when she didn’t want help with applebucking season.”  Twilight was talking more to herself than Pinkie or Big Mac; turning off the hose and looking back at the spotless side of the house, she turned her attention back to the two ponies in front of her.  “I know of one, and only one pony that specializes in psychology.  The only problem is that she’s all the way up in Canterlot.”

“Is it Princess Celestia?” Pinkie asked, wide-eyed.

“Uh, no,” Twilight replied.  “Her name is Dreamcatcher; she’s a unicorn that works at Canterlot Castle itself, and as far as I know, always has a backed-up schedule.  Getting her to come all the way down here to help out AJ will be no easy feat.”

“Well, if this Dreamcatcher mare’s as good as you say she is,” Big Mac started, “then Ah say we leave for Canterlot this moment!”

“Oh, she’s well worth it,” Twilight assured.  “But like I said, I only know about her.  She works under the Princesses themselves because of her talent, which are memory and thought enchantments.  If anypony could cure Applejack, it’d be her.”

Big Mac tapped his hoof on the ground in agreement.  “We only got ourselves a day ‘fore the Get-Together begins.  If we’re gonna get somepony from Canterlot, it’s gotta happen today—and right now.”

Twilight nodded.  “Dreamcatcher’s a powerful unicorn.  If short on time, she could perhaps at least enchant Applejack’s mind to re-like apples.  I know that doesn’t sound like a permanent solution, but if she really can’t do anything else for us, it would at least serve as a temporary fix so that Applejack could attend the Celebration without any problems.”

“Then it’s settled,” Big Mac said, starting to make the walk from Sweet Apple Acres to the train station in Ponyville, “We’re goin’ to Canterlot for this ‘Dreamcatcher.’  Sure hope it’ll be worth the trip.”

“Wait—I wanna go too!” Pinkie cried enthusiastically while jumping up and down.  “Don’t go without me!”

“Sorry Pinkie,” Twilight replied, “but we need somepony to stay here with Applejack.”  She glanced into the kitchen window and saw Apple Strudel walking inside the house, looking at the few banners and decorations that were already set up outside.  “Especially considering the other ponies she’d be left with if you didn’t stay.”

“Aww,” Pinkie whined, “Why can’t Big Mac stay and look after her?”  She turned to the red stallion.  “She’s your sister, after all, Mackie.”

“Ah called dibs on second,” Big Mac replied nonchalantly.

“Fine,” Pinkie grumbled at first, but then her face lit up.  “Then that means I get to spend a bunch of time with Jackie while I wait for you guys!  Whee!”  Pinkie proceeded to dash into the house without a second thought.

Twilight reached out to try and stop Pinkie, to tell her that it probably wasn’t the best of ideas to disturb the mare that was trying to sleep, but she was too late.  Sighing and returning her attention to Big Mac, she said, “It’s ten after; we have just enough time to catch the next train to Canterlot.  C’mon Big Mac, we got a unicorn to talk to, and an earth-pony to save!”

“It’s not like her life’s in danger,” Big Mac replied as both he and Twilight started out for the front gates of the farm.

“No, but her livelihood is,” Twilight responded.  The stallion next to her nodded in agreement, and they both went out the gate and made for Ponyville Station, determined to bring back this ‘Dreamcatcher’ unicorn, for Applejack’s sake.

Positive Reinforcement

Applejack wanted nothing more than for this day to be over.  Granted, she’d probably wake up to a tomorrow where she’d still get sick from apples, but at least it would be a new day—anything than this nightmare of a morning she was experiencing.  Though morning wasn’t even over yet, she was tired.  The lull of sleep was assisting her, closing her eyes and making her warm and snug under her covers as a relaxing breeze drifted under the dense curtains that were keeping the sunlight out of her room.  As the thoughts and worries began to escape her without her even realizing, Applejack was almost under the calming spell…

“Soooo…” a high-pitched, feminine voice hummed loudly, only inches away from Applejack’s left ear, “What’re we gonna do today, Jackie?”

All of sleep’s hard work had just gone to waste, and the long and hard journey into a dreamland was abruptly stopped short and rewound back to square one as Pinkie had come into Applejack’s room to greet her.  Knowing already that ignoring the pink pony would be a lost battle before it started, Applejack opened up her eyes, but she didn’t look at the happy pony gawking at her on her left—instead, the farmer kept her eyes steadied on the ceiling, acknowledging Pinkie’s presence, but not welcoming her friend to more conversation.

Pinkie backed her outstretched neck from Applejack’s face and promptly tilted her head in confusion.  “You okay, Applejack?”  Her head slowly followed an imaginary line that went from Applejack’s eyes to the spot on the ceiling she was so focused on.  “What’re ya looking at?” she again, the same cheery tone not leaving her voice.

“Ah’m a little worse for wear, Pink,” Applejack admitted.  “If ya don’t mind, could ya please leave me alone for now?”  She tried to sound annoyed when she asked, but she felt so drained that it came out as a tired plea instead.  Her eyes hadn’t moved away from the ceiling, though now they were focused on a small divot in the drywall overhead that was casting a shadow in its crater.

“Jackie,” Pinkie began her sentence, the pet-name making Applejack cringe slightly, “I’m here to take care of you while Twilight and Big Mac go get that Dreamsnatcher or whatever her name was.  And you don’t have to worry about me not being a good caretaker,” Pinkie said, planting her rear onto the floor and holding her arm towards her chest, “I’ve proven myself to Mr. and Mrs. Cake,” she explained with a smile, continuing her pledge-like stance.  “If I can take care of two little babies, you should be no problem at all!”

Even though Applejack knew it wasn’t intended to be an insult, she couldn’t help but get irked by Pinkie’s remark.  “Ah don’t need anypony to take care of me, Pinkie.  Ah’m just feeling sick, alright?  Nothin’ a little sleep won’t handle.”  She took her attention off from the divot on her ceiling and closed her eyes, resuming what she knew was a futile battle to try and go to sleep.  For a moment, Applejack didn’t hear a peep from Pinkie; for a moment, she was foolish enough to think that Pinkie had actually given up.

“You haven’t eaten a single thing in since forever!” Pinkie scolded, though her discipline lost a lot of its effect when she spoke in such a happy manner.  “Every time you ate something, it only came back up later!  If you eat the food but don’t digest it, you aren’t absorbing any of the goody nutrients inside!”  As the pink pony continued to explain, she leaned in closer to her friend and rested her arms on the edge of the bed.

“Thanks for the medical lesson,” Applejack remarked.  “Ah’m not hungry at the moment, Pinkie.  If Ah’m not hungry, Ah’m not gonna eat.”  She took a deep breath, held it in for a second, and exhaled through her nose, trying to bring back the peace and tranquility Pinkie had so rudely interrupted.

Pinkie cocked an eyebrow at Applejack from what she had just said.  “I always eat when I’m not hungry!  If I ate whenever I was hungry, than I’d always eat too much food to fill me up; if I eat when I’m not hungry, I’ll never get hungry because I’m constantly full!”

For the first time since Pinkie entered the room, Applejack opened her eyes and leaned on her left side to look straight at the pink pony.  “How in tarnation is eating constantly better than eating only when you’re hungry?” she asked plainly.  “That would only make me fat.”

“I’m not fat, silly!” Pinkie retorted.  “If I were fat, then I’d go drifting off into the sky like one of my party balloons!”

“…what?”

To give a visual, Pinkie prodded the slight outward curve of her belly, and then squeezed her flexed forearm; “Fat’s lighter than muscle!” she explained.

“…But it ain’t lighter than air, Pinkie.”  Applejack had warmed up just slightly, and any hint of spite that was in her voice earlier was now gone.

“Wait!” Pinkie yelled suddenly, making Applejack jump, “I was wrong—it’s not lighter than air, it’s denser!”

The surprised expression on the orange pony’s face had already gone back to annoyed boredom, and it didn’t change after Pinkie finished her sentence.  “Amazing,” Applejack spoke sarcastically.

Pinkie’s face lit up as she recalled something she once heard.  “Hey!  Hey, Jackie, I got a puzzle for you!” she exclaimed while lightly bouncing up and down.

“Pinkie, Ah’m not really in the mood—”

“What weighs more: a thousand pounds of hay or a thousand pounds of rainbows?”  Pinkie shoved her face into Applejack’s while she waited, on-edge, for her friend to answer, making the tired earth-pony reel backwards from her leaning position.

Applejack had heard this one before…but not with the objects Pinkie was talking about; the blonde mare’s face scrunched as she thought about the question for a second.  “Uhm, Pinkie?  If Ah’m not mistaken, rainbows don’t weigh anything.  It’s just light.”

Pinkie cocked another eyebrow in Applejack’s face, though this time the party pony’s expression was much more amused.  “Jackie…if rainbows don’t weigh anything, then how come they don’t fly away into the air?”  Considering her own words, Pinkie’s sly smile became a stark frown.  “But—Dashie can fly, and she’s ‘Rainbow Dash,’ but that must mean she doesn’t weigh anything—but what if she eats something?  The food would be a big weight in her stomach!  No—I’m thinking about this all wrong…”  Pinkie got off the bed and turned away from Applejack and started to pace back and forth across the wooden floor.  “Are rainbows weightless because Dashie can fly, or can Dashie fly because rainbows are weightless?  But—not just her, all pegasi can fly!  Maybe they use fat to keep them afloat?  Are pegasi just fatter than regular ponies?”

Pinkie’s usual antics had finally drilled through the cold cobblestone that had crusted over Applejack’s heart over the past few days.  The farmer smiled and slowly shook her head in amusement over Pinkie’s dilemma—was that a high-pitched giggle that just came out of her mouth?  Applejack pushed away the covers of her bed and leapt off the mattress; Pinkie returned to the real world when she heard the clop of the hooves on the floor, and she looked up at Applejack.

“If Ah were you, Pinkie,” Applejack began, walking over to her friend and slinging an arm over Pinkie’s shoulder, “Ah wouldn’t ask or even mention that to Rainbow.  Not unless you wanna get yerself into a rumble, that is.”

“But they have to be fatter!” Pinkie exclaimed.  “It’s the only thing that makes any sense!  …But then where do they put all that extra fat…?”

Applejack made a snorting noise when her laugh half-escaped through her nose and sealed lips.  “Let’s talk about it over a meal, shall we?”  Pinkie’s look of pondering and philosophy wiped clean off at the word “meal,” and was replaced by her trademark smile and the rapid bobbing of her head in agreement.  Applejack took her arm off from around Pinkie and the two made their way downstairs to the kitchen.  “Ah could really go for somethin’ to eat right now…”

The view of Canterlot was becoming clearer and clearer as the Friendship Express continued its trek up the rails, placed smack between the broad face of the mountains on the right, and a deep crevasse on the left.  Twilight was sitting in the window seat of one of the passenger cars, staring intently on the city in the distance; Big Mac, on the other hand, was staring at the swirling circular patterns on the carpet placed in the middle of the car, trying his hardest not to look outside.

Twilight happened to glance to her right, and she noticed how intently Big Mac was watching the floor.  “Are you holding up alright, Big Mac?” Twilight asked, concerned.

“Eeyup,” the stallion replied.

Not convinced by his wavering tone, Twilight asked, “Have you ever ridden a train before?”

“Eeyup.”  He wasn’t taking his eyes off the floor.

Twilight realized immediately that he must have ridden a simple train at least once in his life.  It was the main way of getting around Equestria.  “Have you ever ridden a train through rough terrain?” she asked a third time, and being more specific.

The train hit a small bump, and the entire passenger car jerked; the large red stallion quivered slightly.  “Nnope,” he finally said after regaining his bearings.

Twilight decided to spare Big Mac the shame and looked back out the window to view the incoming city.  “We’ve just about arrived.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to contact Dreamcatcher quickly and we’ll bring her to Sweet Apple Acres without a hitch.  Like I said before, if anypony can fix Applejack, it’s her.”

“Hopefully she’s willin’ to help, though,” Big Mac said in a sigh as the train passed the gates into Canterlot and came to a slow stop as the brakes screeched against the tracks at the station.  “If not, then we’re pretty much outta luck.”

Twilight, trying to stay optimistic, suggested to the stallion, “If anything, maybe she could give us a few pointers on how to help out AJ.  Anything will be better than nothing, really.”

The two stepped out of the train car and took a quick glance of the surrounding area.  Big Mac, being a soft-spoken country-man, had never even seen Manehattan in his life, so the sight of Canterlot was quite a sight to behold for the stallion.  “Golly,” he said humbly, trying to take in the entire view.

Twilight wasn’t as enthusiastic, and she immediately started off into the streets.  “C’mon Big Mac,” she called behind her, “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to dilly-dally!  Even if we don’t make it to the Celebration in time, we need Dreamcatcher’s help!”  Twilight paused at the front gates of the train station for Big Mac to catch up to her.  As the stallion galloped quickly to her side, Twilight began to walk again, and continued to speak as she looked around at the different sights, if only for the sake of looking at something.  “I’ve tried everything I can think of for poor Applejack, and yet barely any progress was made.  It was my idea to drag her into Sweet Apple Acres…” the unicorn said guiltily, “I have to fix the mess I caused, for her sake.”

Big Mac was barely listening.  Had he not been such a large pony, one could have mistaken him for a young kid gawking at all the rides at a carnival; his eyes were sparkling, and he had a large open-mouthed smile as he continued to watch the entire city.  “Eeyup,” he answered to Twilight absent-mindedly.

Twilight glanced back at Big Mac and his goofy expression.  “Why did you come along, again?” she asked.

The stallion took his eyes off the sights for a moment and replied to Twilight, “Ah called dibs on second.”

Twilight shrugged at the response—a good an answer as any other, since the topic really wasn’t important now.  Returning her attention to the castle up ahead, Twilight spoke, more to herself than anyone else, “I have the clearance to go pretty much anywhere in Canterlot Castle that I want—found that out the hard way.  Getting to Dreamcatcher will be the easy part.  It’s convincing her to go out of her way for your sister that’ll be the hard part.”

“Eeyup.”

Applejack let out a relaxed sigh of content.  She was feeling better right now than she had for the past three days.  Probably because she had actually eaten food for once.  Or maybe because she wasn’t trying anymore psychological tests.

“That was absolutely delicious, Pinkie,” Applejack said to the pink pony cleaning their dishes in the sink; the orange mare was sitting back in her chair with her arm rested over her plumper-than-usual belly.  “What were those things, anyways?”

“A chimicherrychanga,” Pinkie replied casually in her jolly tone.  “After Rarity and I got back to Ponyville from trying to bring you back to Ponyville, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I went ahead and made one!  Though, this is the first time I didn’t end up cooking an ip-her-kack.”

“Ah think it’s pronounced, ‘ipecac’ Pinkie,” Applejack replied.  Her friend’s last comment had put her at unease, and Applejack’s casual pose in her chair, with her back hooves rested on top of the table, had stiffened up.  “Let’s just thank Celestia that this wasn’t the case this time…”

“I KNOW, right?” Pinkie replied as she wiped off her cleaned plate and placed it down on the kitchen counter.  Turning back to Applejack, she continued, “But I figured that this would be the best time to retry it, since you’ve been throwing up everything you eat anyways.”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed at the oblivious pink pony taking a seat at the kitchen table next to her.  “You sayin’ Ah was yer guinea pig?  Frankly, if Ah’ve been so sick lately, making somethin’ that’d make me more sick isn’t the best of ideas.”

Pinkie didn’t seem fazed by Applejack’s criticism.  “Well, since we’re both still alive, so I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?  Anyway, what’s next on the list of things to do?”

“Things to do?” Applejack questioned.  “There’s nothin’ left to do—not for me, anyway.  Ah can’t really help outside with the Celebration, since, y’know, mah sickness and all…”

Pinkie lightly slammed her hoof on the table in disbelief.  “You say that like there isn’t anything to do inside!” she exclaimed.

Applejack only shrugged at the gawking pink pony sitting on her right.  “Mah entire livelihood depends on me being outside to buck apples.  Ah rarely choose to stay inside the house.”

Pinkie thought on her friend’s words.  “Well then, what do you do on a rainy day—when you have to stay inside?”  She spoke like an interrogator that was already onto something.

“Ah usually just looked outside the window at the fields and the apples,” Applejack stated plainly, looking at a window on the adjacent wall as she spoke.  She could see that a few of her relatives had already arrived for the party that was tomorrow—the distant relatives that had to sleep at the farm overnight.  Some were helping with applying banners to high wooden posts, others were already mingling with friends they hadn’t spoken with for over a year.  While Applejack was happy to see all her relatives’ smiling faces outside, it also pained her to know that her chances of being outside with them tomorrow was a long shot.

A silence fell over Pinkie after Applejack’s answer; she was obviously trying to think of a counter to her friend’s apparent disregard for the indoors.  “What kinda board games do you like to play?” she asked half-heartedly with a shrug.

“Board games?” Applejack repeated.  The intrigued tone in the farmer’s voice had obviously piqued Pinkie’s enthusiasm, as she smiled broadly and nodded her head rapidly.  “Ah’ve never been all that good at board games, Pinkie.  Just never was mah thing.”

Pinkie’s smiling mouth opened and breathed in a small gasp of delight.  “Great, me neither!  C’mon, let’s go play a fun board game!”  She grabbed Applejack’s arm and dragged the blonde mare into the center of the living room; Pinkie sat the farmer down slowly and proceeded to dart around from room to room in the house.  Applejack was having a hard time keeping track of the pink blur zipping around her.

“What’re ya talking about?” Applejack asked the speedy pony cautiously.  “Ah’ve seen you play board games before—they’re practically your forte, what with it being part of yer parties an’ all.”  She heard a small clacking noise and looked down at the two die that had suddenly appeared before her—they landed next to several playing cards, a rubber bouncy-ball, an empty bottle of nasal spray and what appeared to be a small wooden mallet.  She became aware that a new set of items fell to her feet every time Pinkie zipped by her.  Finally—after the pink pony had added, among other things, twelve bottle caps and metal spoon—Pinkie stopped her marathon around the Apple Family house and sat perfectly still, opposite of Applejack on the round green carpet in the middle of the living room.

“I’m not good at every board game!” Pinkie exclaimed with a massive grin on her face.  “In fact, I’m absolutely no good at this one here!” she said, extending her hoof out to show off the pile of scrap in front of her and Applejack.

Applejack stared at the junk, trying to remember if she’d ever seen this game—or even anything REMOTELY similar—being played by Pinkie at any one time.  “You’ll have to jog mah memory, Ah’m afraid,” Applejack admitted.  “What exactly IS this game, Pink?”

Pinkie threw her arms into the air and proudly announced, “I have NO IDEA!”

“Wah?”

“That’s the idea of the game, Jackie!” Pinkie explained excitedly.  “Since I’m so good at board games, I got you all this stuff so you can make up one of your OWN!  Make up your own rules and everything—that way, you have a super-duper-huge chance of winning!”  Finished talking, Pinkie proceeded to bite her lower lip in anticipation, watching a confused Applejack with starry eyes as she waited for her friend to create a new fun game for her to play.

Applejack looked from Pinkie’s face, back down to the heap of junk at her feet.  “You…you don’t honestly expect me t’ make up a game on the spot, do you?”  Seeing that Pinkie’s giddy expression didn’t change, she realized her friend meant business.  “Uhm, okay…uh…”  She noticed a red circle jutting out from the bottom of the pile, and taking it out, saw it was an apple-themed fridge magnet.  “…First rule, uh: the object of the game is to finish while in possession of the apple.  If you finish the game without the apple, you don’t win.”

Pinkie bobbed her head in agreement, looking trance-like as she listened closely to Applejack’s every word about the game.  “How do you ‘finish’ the game, then?” she asked modestly.

Applejack hummed in thought and placed the apple magnet down to her side, examining the other items again for her next plan of action.  “Well…oh!  The game is finished after all twelve bottle caps are gone from the…” she paused in her directions to push the junk aside and align the bottle caps into a circle between her and Pinkie, “…from the circle.  And…each bottle cap leaves when you successfully land the spoon on the…”

Pinkie’s undivided attention was on Applejack and the game pieces, each one that Pinkie had brought becoming somehow significant in the confoundedly complicated game the orange mare was coming up with on the spot.

Twilight walked as casually as she could into Canterlot Castle’s Specialist Wing, where the “higher ups” resided.  While the tall ceiling and pale tile floor sung the same tune of royalty that the rest of the Castle did, there was a certain air professionalism to go along with the kingly feel.  The stained-glass windows lining the left side of the hallway were nowhere near as energetic, instead keeping simplistic patterns for the sunlight to shine through.  At the mouth of the long hallway was a middle-aged mare sitting at a wooden desk, wearing a pair of reading glasses so she could see the book sitting on the desk in front of her.

The mare didn’t notice Twilight and Big Mac as they entered the small room with the desk, the opposite wall lined up with cushions to act as a waiting room for other ponies; two were currently seated already.  Twilight lowered her head, trying to make eye contact with the mare looking down at the book she was reading.  After the attempt to get her attention failed, Twilight resorted to speaking up.  Abruptly clearing her throat, Twilight said, “Excuse me.”  The mare looked up from her book, bored.  “Would the unicorn Dreamcatcher happen to be here?”

“As far as I know,” she replied, looking slightly amused for a second after noticing the rural-looking Big Mac standing behind the unicorn.  “Do you two have an appointment with her?”

“Uh, no, actually,” Twilight stuttered, “But we were wondering if we could take a few minutes out of her time to speak with her.”  Twilight’s heart was propelling her blood throughout her body, it was pumping so fast.  The moment of truth—actually, Twilight was already going through plans ‘B’ through ‘H’ in her head, in case they were about to hit another wall.

“I don’t think she’s with anypony right now…but she might be,” the mare replied, looking down the hallway as if someone were to come out and confirm her suspicion.  “You should probably wait for her to come out if you wish to speak with her.  Don’t want to barge in on a patient now, would you?”  The mare looked back down at her book and waved her hoof towards the cushions on the other side of the room.  “Just take a seat for now.  If nopony comes out in twenty minutes, I suppose I can let you go ahead in.  Just as long as I’m not held responsible for any consequences.”

Twilight pouted at the answer; what she wanted was to get this done as soon as possible.  Sitting and doing nothing for twenty minutes would be torture for her.  She wanted to say something to the mare at the desk, but Twilight figured that since she was already being this lenient with her and Big Mac, it probably wasn’t best to provoke her.  “Okay,” Twilight replied, and trudged to the worn-out red pillows secured to a small wooden platform for elevation, “thanks.”  She plopped into a seat next to one of the ponies already seated; a seafoam-green unicorn mare that was sitting in her cushion in the strangest form Twilight had ever seen.  The unicorn was sitting on her upper flank—practically with her back laying flat on the cushion—and her legs were sticking out over the floor in front of her instead of tucked in on her sides behind her forelegs.  Twilight noticed the pony had a lyre depicted on her flank.

The mare noticed out the corner of her eye the purple pony staring at her, and she turned to see Twilight, who turned red from being caught.  “Oh!” Twilight exclaimed, “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you, it’s just…why are you sitting like that?”  Big Mac, who had sat on Twilight’s right, looked over her shoulder to see the pony she was talking to.

“I dunno,” the mare replied with a shrug, “It’s just one of the things I do.  A quirk of mine.  I’m quirky.”

Twilight still questioned the reasons for sitting with one's head up against the wall and belly sticking out.  “That certainly looks uncomfortable, though,” Twilight replied.

The mare only shrugged again.  “That’s what Dreamcatcher said the other day, too.  I overheard your conversation just now, and yes, she’s with somepony right now.  I’m next afterwards, though,” she quickly added for the sake of clarification.  She stuck out an arm towards Twilight, not moving from her awkward sit.  “I’m Lyra.  I go to Dreamcatcher sometimes to discuss my little ‘quirks.’  Nothing too bad, but Bon Bon has been complaining about how I do everything recently, so I decided I may as well try and do something about it.”

Twilight grabbed Lyra’s outstretched hoof with her own and gently shook with the mare.  “I’m Twilight Sparkle.  I came here with a friend of mine,” she leaned over to show to Big Mac to Lyra, to which she gave a wave of her arm, and a nod from the stallion, “because we need Dreamcatcher’s assistance with his sister,” she said, pointing back to Big Mac.

“Really?” Lyra asked, intrigued.  “What’s wrong?”  She scooted up a few inches into a more proper sit—considering how she was currently sitting, that is.

“To make a long story short, she’s an apple farmer that now gets sick to her stomach from anything involving apples.  An accidental conditioning that makes her body now think apples are poison.”  Twilight attempted to sound as defeated and heartbroken as she could while explaining their predicament; if she was lucky, Lyra would have the heart to let her and Big Mac talk with Dreamcatcher first.  Twilight didn’t want to be deceptive, but she really wanted to get this over with.  “I’ve already tried everything I could; if Dreamcatcher can’t fix her, I don’t know what the poor mare will have to do with her life…”  Her lip quivered slightly as she looked down at the floor with puppy eyes.

Lyra put a hoof over her mouth.  “An apple farmer that can’t work with apples?  That sounds terrible.”  The unicorn paused and thought for a moment.  “Y’know, why don’t you go ahead and head my session.  Just slip in first thing and hopefully do whatever you can.  Bon Bon’s been paying for these, so it doesn’t really matter to me if I don’t get the whole experience or not.”  She slumped back into her initial ‘sit.’  “I take it your friend's not here because she’s feeling sick?”

“That doesn’t even begin to explain it…” Twilight said, half to herself as she mentally hit herself on the head; bringing Applejack to Sweet Apple Acres was not one of her crowning moments of intelligence.

“…So, what exactly are you planning on doing, then?” Lyra asked quizzically.  “What can Dreamcatcher do other than give you advice?”

“Hopefully she can give me a spell I could use on my friend’s mind for the next few days,” Twilight answered.  “While it’s best that we fix the problem rather than cover it up, we need a quick fix for a family get-together she’s supposed to go to tomorrow.”

“I see,” Lyra said, nodding slowly.  She sighed loudly before rocking herself off the cushion and onto all four hooves.  “Make sure you tell Dreamcatcher that Lyra Heartstrings is alright with you coming in in my stead.”  She began for the door out, when Twilight called back to her.

“Wait!” the purple unicorn exclaimed.  “Where are you going?”

“Meh,” Lyra replied.  “I’ve lost the mood to go in that room anyways.  And all this talk about apples has made me hungry.”  Her horn glowed with magic, as did the door; she opened it and was almost through it when she paused and peeked from behind the doorway.  “Good luck with your friend, Twilight Sparkle,” she said and walked through the door, closing it behind her.

“Wow, Jackie!” Pinkie exclaimed from inside the small, cramped cabinet-space underneath the kitchen sink, “You found me AGAIN!”

Applejack chuckled at Pinkie’s gusto.  “Ah’d actually forgotten how fun hide-and-go-seek was.  Probably be better if it wasn’t just th’ two of us, though.  Ah spend prob’ly three times longer waitin’ for you to find me than Ah spend lookin’ for you!”

Pinkie slowly crawled out from the tight spot, her mane springing outward after breaking free from the sink over her head.  “You’re just better at using your senses than I am!  Oh, it’s your turn to hide now!”  Pinkie hadn’t closed the cabinet yet, and instead went into a physical rewind, going flank-first and head-last back into the cramped cabinet and closed the door behind her.  “You go find a hiding spot while I count to fifty—or until I get tired of counting!” her muffled voice said from inside the woodwork, echoing through the pipes and out the sink.

“Pinkie, we’ve hid in every dang nook an’ cranny in this house at least twice,” Applejack stated plainly.  “How’s about we find somethin’ else to do now?”

The farmer mare jumped when Pinkie popped out of a cabinet on the wall behind her, shouting “Okay!” and leaping out onto the kitchen floor next to Applejack.  Pinkie didn’t understand why her friend looked so dumbfounded at her.  “Something wrong, Jackie?  Feeling sick again?”

Applejack shook off her surprise and regained her composure.  “Uh, no, Ah’m fine, Pinkie.”  The two began to walk around the house together, trying to find something new to do to pass the time.  “Ah can’t believe you’re not good at hide-and-go-seek, though.”

Learned Behavior

The dark-green unicorn mare was sitting at her desk, hunched over the solid oak table, staring at the piles of documents and files scattered all around the entirety of the tabletop, along with several files jutting out from half-open drawers.  Her ear twitched lightly; she could hear her client’s light clopping of hooves as she approaching her room.  It surprised her that this client of hers in particular had decided to come into her room this quickly—usually, she had a couple of spare minutes before Lyra Heartstrings even rose from the cushion in the waiting room.  And yet, her previous client had left only fifteen seconds ago, and Lyra has already—wait.

She could hear two sets of hoofsteps, one light and fleet like Lyra’s, the other heavy, and somewhat clumsy-sounding even on the carpeting placed over the hard tile floor of the castle hallway.

‘Now what could this be about?’ the unicorn asked herself.  As the light hoofsteps stopped suddenly just outside her office door, Dreamcatcher retained her composure and said to the ponies on the other side, “Come in.”

Twilight stopped and blinked for a moment.  Her hoof was raised, just about to knock on the finely-varnished, natural oak door, set with but a single small golden nameplate that read to the squinting eye “Dreamcatcher.”  Since the voice inside had already invited Twilight in, she lowered her hoof without having knocked and instead turned the door’s handle to walk inside, Big Mac only a step behind.

As Twilight entered the office, she saw what could have been mistaken as an office for herself, if she’d had one.  The room was no larger than the average living room; three of the walls were completely made up of bookshelf that raised up to the ten-foot-high ceiling.  The only sources of light were the four bright candles situated at each corner of the room, and the currently-dimmed fireplace right behind the dark-green, black-haired unicorn sitting in her desk.

The mare was gazing into Twilight with curiosity in her light-purple eyes, making Twilight feel uneasy.  She swished away a piece of her jet-black mane that was in her face to get a better look at the two ponies entering her room.  “You…are not Lyra Heartstrings,” was the first thing she said to the two.

A lump formed in Twilight’s throat; even though she had no reason to be this nervous, the gaze from those purple eyes were making Twilight feel extremely on-edge.  “Uh—”  Her voice cracked when she first tried speaking.  “Yeah, uh, I know.  We—me and Big Mac here—and I’m Twilight Sparkle, we—”

“Oh, you do not need to introduce yourself to me, Twilight Sparkle,” Dreamcatcher stated, slowly scooting her chair back to get out from her desk and onto the floor, “I know all about you, you and your friends who’ve saved the land of Equestria, twice!”  She walked around her large, paper-filled desk to stand only a foot from Twilight.  She was only a few inches taller than the purple unicorn, and Twilight could now see the dreamcatcher cutie mark on her flank.  “What I want to know is, why are you here, and Lyra not?”

Twilight tried her best to swallow the lump in her throat, but it seemed to stick firmly in place.  Big Mac, seeing that the unicorn was in distress, quickly jumped in to explain.

“Mah sister Applejack has some kinda ‘conditioning’ problem.  A few days ago, she ate a bad apple that got her sick, an’ now she can barely look at one without tryin’ t’ puke.  Mah family has a big get-together thing goin’ on tomorrow, and we were hopin’ that you could take time outta yer busy schedule to help out AJ in getting over this problem of hers.”

Dreamcatcher took her eyes off of Twilight for a moment to look at Big Mac while he spoke; Twilight took a silent gasp for air when the unicorn did.  “You still haven’t told me what happened to Lyra,” Dreamcatcher stated plainly.  “She’s the one with an appointment for me.”

Twilight finally got the nerve to speak.  “She didn’t feel like coming today, and said we could come in in her stead, to ask for your help.”

Finally getting the answer she’d been waiting for, Dreamcatcher appeared to soften from her erect stance.  “I see.  Not surprised—I can tell she listens to me when I talk, but that doesn’t mean she cares to hear it.”  The unicorn quickly brushed back her mane and walked back to her seat on the other side of the desk.  “I’m sorry, Twilight Sparkle, but unless this ‘Applejack’ is here in Canterlot, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do.  And I can already tell that this pony you speak of isn’t here—had she been, she would have been with you, and her brother wouldn’t have arrived in her stead.”  She got back into her chair and returned to staring at her mass of papers.  “Lyra’s absence gives me the perfect opportunity to catch up on all this backup of documents.  So, please, excuse yourselves from my office.”

Now Twilight regained all of her confidence, and shot back at the unicorn.  “What?!  You can’t just do that, we need your help!”

“And as much as I’d like to assist the savers of Equestria,” Dreamcatcher said, not looking up from her papers as she lifted a pen with a white magic aura, signing the bottom line on several documents, “I simply don’t have the time.  Not to mention, you don’t even have an appointment with me, so you technically have no right to be in here in the first place.”

“I—but I—”

Big Mac patted Twilight’s shoulder to get her attention.  As she looked up to him, exasperation on her face, he gave a simple nod, telling her to leave the room so he could give his own persuasion a whirl.  He wanted Applejack cured as much—if not more so—than Twilight, and wasn’t leaving Canterlot without giving it all they had.  When the door closed behind him, Big Mac turned to face Dreamcatcher, who didn’t look up from her papers.

“I have nothing else to say,” the unicorn said before Big Mac could even open his mouth.  “Too much for me to do at the moment.”

Big Mac dropped his heavy front hooves on top of the mare’s desk, causing a loud rumble and making the annoyed Dreamcatcher look up to face the stallion.

“Look,” Big Mac started, his nostrils flaring, “Ah don’t think you realize how much more important mah sister is than your dang papers.”

Dreamcatcher brought herself into in erect sit in her chair; her unnerving stare made the earth-pony take his hooves off of her desk, mostly out of fear.  “If you’re really going to make this much of a fit about it, here.”  Her horn lit up with white, as did a small scroll off to Big Mac’s right, clamped between two loosely-placed books on the bookshelf.  The scroll was levitated towards the stallion and stopped in mid-air when it was right in front of his face.  “This here is a spell I created myself,” Dreamcatcher explained.  “The ‘System Restore,’ as I like to call it.  You can return a pony’s mind to a previous state, from up to a week before.  It’s a dangerous spell in the wrong hooves, but I trust Twilight Sparkle to keep it safe.”  Big Mac absentmindedly held out his hoof, to which the scroll’s white aura vanished and fell into his grasp.  The stallion opened his mouth to speak, to thank the mare, but he was cut off when Dreamcatcher spoke up again.  “Though keep in mind that I made this spell for myself—it’s custom-tailored to my magic, and nopony else’s.  Twilight Sparkle can try it out if she wants, but do not expect it to work on your sister.”  Dreamcatcher shuffled back into her chair, still looking at the silent red stallion.  “Consider it my parting gift with you and Twilight Sparkle.  Please now, I still have a lot of work to do.”  She fanned her hoof at Big Mac, shooing him away towards the door.

“Hope you weren’t going for a climactic battle of wits,” she said to herself, under her breath.

Without saying a word, Big Mac opened up the office door and walked into the hallway; the door promptly shut behind him.  Twilight, who had apparently been pacing back and forth in front of the door, jumped with a yelp from the loud slamming of the door.  She looked up to see Big Mac with a mysterious scroll now held in his mouth.  The unicorn’s eyes glimmered when she saw the piece of paper, and she leapt in front of him to see what it was.

“What’s that?” the starry-eyed unicorn asked, eyeing the paper.

Big Mac let the scroll out of his mouth to explain.  “That mare said that this is sum spell that’ll fix AJ, but it may not work fer ya.”

“Wow!” Twilight exclaimed, picking the scroll up with her magic and quickly opening it to examine its contents.  “How’d you get Dreamcatcher to give this to you?” she asked, enthralled.

Big Mac gave a loud sniff, erected his back and suddenly became a lot more triumphant–looking.  He said, in a casual tone, “It was no big deal.  Jus’ had to show th’ mare what’s what an’ then she got me what I was lookin’ for.”

Twilight caught on to the stallion’s façade, and she cocked a sly eyebrow at him.  “Yeah, sure thing Casanova.  Let’s just get this scroll on the next train to Ponyville—we’ve no time to waste!”

Apple Fritter opened the door to the Apple Family house and walked inside the living room; she was headed towards the kitchen for more napkins, when she stumbled across her cousin Applejack—playing the most contrived, odd-looking board-game she had ever seen.  Sitting across from orange mare was a bubbly-looking, pink-haired earth-pony.  Fritter had never seen this pink pony before—was she even a member of the Apple family?  What was she doing here?

Before Fritter could open her mouth—and before Applejack could give a wave and a “hi”—the pink mare turned around and suddenly became wide-eyed.

“OOH!” the ecstatic pony shouted, making Fritter flinch, “Who’s this pony, Jackie?!  I haven’t met her yet!”

Applejack stopped in mid-toss of a wooden mallet at a rubber duck, and turned to speak to the pink pony nonchalantly.  “Ah don’t think you’ve met a majority of mah family, Pink.  This here is Apple Fritter.  Apple Fritter, this is Pinkie Pie—a friend of mine’s.”

Fritter was too focused on trying to understand the confounded game Applejack and her friend were playing to remember to say “hello.”  Thankfully, Pinkie filled in the gaps for her, vigorously shaking her hoof.

“Hi, there!  I’m Pinkie Pie and I bet you’re good friends with Jackie, aren’t you?  Well, so am I!  This is so great, and we’re gonna have so much more fun—”

Apple Fritter’s green-streaked mane was bouncing in sync with Pinkie’s up-and-down motion of shaking her hoof, dizzying the mare.  Applejack tossed the wooden mallet at the duck from several feet across the room, toppling the yellow rubber duck with a loud squeak.

“How many points d’ya think that squeak was worth?” the farmer casually asked Pinkie.  Much to Fritter’s relief, the lively earth-pony stopped greeting her to consider the question for a moment.

“I’d say about three?” Pinkie half-answered, half-asked.  “I wasn’t really paying attention.  What about you, Apple Fritter?” Pinkie suddenly turned her attention back to the light-yellow mare.

“Huh?”

“How many points do you think that last squeak was worth?” the pink pony honestly asked, as if it were a serious question.

Fritter glanced at the duck lying next to the tossed mallet, then to the pink pony that was in her face, then over to Applejack, who only replied with a ‘just go with it’ shrug.  “Um…I suppose three sounds good?  I—I’m just here to get some napkins in the kitchen…”

“Top shelf, left-most cupboard from the sink-side,” Applejack replied, pointing a hoof to the kitchen doorway.  “So, how’s the party-planning going along?”

“Oh, it goes,” Fritter answered as casually as she could; after what she’d just experienced, she almost felt violated in a way.  “So what are you two doing?”

“Waitin’ on some friends,” Applejack answered to the mare entering the kitchen, as Pinkie wrote down a number on a pad of paper.  “Just killin’ time, fer now.”

Having grabbed the required napkins, Fritter was ready to go back outside and assist with decorating.  However, she held back as she reentered the kitchen, debating whether or not to ask her cousin something.  “…Is it true, AJ?  I’ve been hearing rumors…”

Applejack’s slack position suddenly straightened up, and she froze in place.  “Y-yah heard?”

“Well…”

The farmer mare groaned as if she were in pain, placing her hoof on her face.  “Lordy—Ah didn’t want anypony t’ find out!  This—this is so embarrassing!”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world, AJ,” Fritter tried to console her cousin.  She immediately regretted it, as Applejack suddenly became upset.

“‘Not the worst thing?’  Are you bucking kidding me!?  Ah’m a disgrace!  Ah can barely even look at an apple, for Celestia’s sake!”  As she yelled at Fritter, Applejack slammed her hoof on the floor for emphasis, making the bottle caps jump an inch into the air.  “You have no idea what it feels like, Fritter!  You—”

Pinkie didn’t like what was going on one bit.  In a desperate attempt to calm down both the Apple mares, Pinkie leapt in-between the two and began to dance a nervous jig and sing a tune.  “As a fil~ly on the farm, my sis and I ne~ver quite—”

“Ah’m outta here,” Applejack rudely interrupted.  She kicked the apple-themed magnet to the side as she stormed upstairs, a loud slam being heard a few seconds later.

“But,” Pinkie pleaded to the stairs with drooped ears, “I didn’t finish my song…”  Pinkie turned to look at Fritter, who looked even more emotionally ravaged than Pinkie did.

“I’m so sorry…I—I had no idea she’d react that way…”

Pinkie, realizing that Fritter needed more comfort than she did, walked up to the mare and gave a reassuring half-hug.  “It’s not your fault, Fritty.  You couldn’t have known she’d flip.”

“I shouldn’t have asked though!”

“Either way,” Pinkie said, “Right now we should focus on making Jackie feel better again, instead of thinking about what we’ve already done.  C’mon,” her face suddenly brightened, and her smile filled Fritter with newfound hope, “I have an idea for Jackie.”

“An idea?”  Fritter wasn’t sure if she liked the way Pinkie had said that.  “You sure it’ll work?”

Pinkie paused for a moment, a pause that made Fritter feel even less confident.  “Well, everything else has been going along just fine, so I don’t see why this won’t.”

“Ugh…” Twilight groaned, “I think some of that old stallion’s B.O. on the train has attached itself to me.  Here,” she shoved the top of her head into Big Mac’s face, “give me a whiff.”

“Uh, Ah’d rather not, Twi,” Big Mac nervously replied.  “Like you said, we don’t have time to waste.  Let’s just get over to the farm now and fix mah sis.”

The two ponies were walking down the central street of Ponyville, having taken the train ride back home without a hitch—sans the terrible smell of the stallion that sat across from the two.  Only a few hours had passed, too; the trip to Dreamcatcher’s might not have been a raging success, but it surprised Twilight just how well everything had been going for them.

“On the ride, I glanced over Dreamcatcher’s spell several times,” Twilight mentioned to Big Mac to break the silence between the two.  “In all honesty, it’s simple enough, but requires large amounts of magic at a single time.  I’m not sure if I have that kind of power to do it.  Also…”  Her tone changed, and the way she said the last word worried Big Mac, “…what if I do actually use the spell, but I mess it up?  The spell’s designed to basically wipe a section of her memory.  This isn’t something that has second chances—isn’t something that you can ‘redo.’  If I mess it up…”

“Now don’t talk like that, Twi,” Big Mac scolded the unicorn, “Yur extremely talented; if anypony can do it, it’s you.  Ah believe in ya, Twi.”

Twilight smiled a false smile in return.  The words of comfort did little for the increasingly-worried mare.

The apples trees were beginning to pop up on the horizon.  Thick clouds of green dotted with shades of red, the Apple Family Orchard slowly rose into view.  Neither Twilight nor Big Mac could see the house yet; they assumed that during their time gone more relatives had arrived and helped with the setting up.  Several straight lines were carved into the dirt road leading to the house, a sign that ponies had come through carrying carriages of food or whatnot.  Sure enough, once the winding dirt trail straightened out to reveal the family house, a couple of trailers were stationed to the side, and the area in front of the barn already oozed of the word ‘party.’

Twilight picked up her pace, going into a quick trot to get to the house as fast as possible.  She was only a few yards from the door when she heard a familiar pink pony calling out through a window on the other side of the house.

“Aaaapplejack!  Hello?  Where aaarrreee yooouuuu?”

Twilight stopped and looked to Big Mac, worried.  “Did Applejack leave?”

“Don’t see how she coulda,” the red stallion replied.  “Ah thought she couldn’t look at apples or anything.”

Twilight was about to reply, when her question was suddenly answered in the form of a cardboard box that rustled as it bumped into a tree on the edge of the clearing, followed by a hushed “ow” spoken inside in a feminine southern drawl.  All worry on Twilight’s face was immediately swept away and replaced with disappointed contempt; she looked at Big Mac, who shared her expression, before the two of them proceeded to confront the mystery box.

Apparently not hearing their approach, the box continued to shuffle slowly between the apple trees, getting farther and farther from the house.  The box didn’t even have any holes in it to see through, and whenever it lifted one would notice the four orange stubs taking baby steps forward.  Twilight bumped the box with her hoof, making it jump and let out a small yelp.

“Applejack,” Twilight scolded, “this is ridiculous.  Get out of there.”

“Twilight!” the box exclaimed in a muffled cry of joy, “Pinkie told me earlier that you were gonna get help—do you have somethin’ to help me?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute,” Twilight replied in a tone that made her sound like a mother telling off her son.  “What I want to know is why you’re trying to escape in a box.”  Another call from Pinkie was heard in the background.  “Pinkie’s looking for you, Applejack.  Care to tell me why?”

The box sighed and shuffled around to face Twilight with the ‘THIS SIDE UP’ icon looking at her.  “Ah just felt so terrible…Twi, imagine if you got horribly sick every time you tried to read a book!  That’s what it feels like for me!”

“That’s still no reason to abandon the friends that are trying to help you, AJ.  Now come on, let’s get you back inside—I have a spell that can hopefully help you.”

The box perked up at the mention, and a second later was tossed off and thrown to the side revealing the orange mare with her eyes closed.  “Could’ya guide me over back t’ the house then, Twi?”  Applejack held out her hoof, waving it around in the air trying to find something to hold on to.

The purple unicorn smiled and met her friend’s hoof with her own.  “I’d be happy to, Applejack.”  As Pinkie called out another time for the farmer, Twilight yelled out to Pinkie from the other side of the house, “We found her, Pinkie!  She’s just outside; we’re bringing her in!”

“Great!” the pink pony happily cried out.

The three ponies walked together to the house so Applejack could open her eyes without risk of seeing the thousands of apples around her.  With the mare’s eyes still closed, Twilight opened the front door; when Applejack opened her eyes, she suddenly saw all her family members inside, some of the party supplies strewn out in the living room, and bowls of fruit everywhere—none of which was an apple.  Applejack saw lemons, pineapples, bananas, pears…what was going on?

“SURPRISE!” everyone yelled in unison, headed by Pinkie, who was sitting in the front of the large group, right beneath a banner that said ‘Get Well Soon!’

Applejack was frozen from shock; she looked at Twilight, but the unicorn seemed just as surprised about the party as she was.

“Hey Twilight, hey Big Mac, hey Applejack!” Pinkie cheerily spoke as she skipped up to the three ponies.  “Isn’t this great?  I was so sad when you stormed off into your room, and that you might not even be able to go to your family’s own party tomorrow, so I went ahead and threw you a fruit party!—no apples included, of course!”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow as she continued to take in the view.  “What?”

Apple Fritter stepped up from the crowd, looking guilty and avoiding eye-contact with Applejack.  “Sorry I said anything earlier, cuz.  It wasn’t right of me to snoop in your business.”

Remembering her attitude earlier, Applejack felt a wave of her own guilt sweeping over her.  “No, it’s my fault.  I shouldn’t have overreacted like that, Fritter.”

Pinkie bit her lip to try and suppress her massive grin.  “I think hugs are in order!” she said, pulling the two ponies together; the two didn’t hesitate to take the advice, and promptly embraced, triggering a large ‘aww’ from everyone else.  Pinkie then inched closer to Twilight, and spoke in a whisper.  “Did you get anything from Dreamsnatcher?  I don’t see her here…wait—is she invisible!?”

“Uh, no, Pinkie,” Twilight replied.  “I did get a spell, but I’m not entirely sure if it’ll work.  Actually, I’m pretty worried about using it.”

Applejack, overhearing the two’s conversation, ceased the long hug, the happy draining out from her.  “Are you tryin’ t’ say that you don’t want to use the spell?”

Twilight didn’t say anything; she shuffled her front hooves and stared at the ground, all eyes on her.  “…I don’t feel safe trying it on you, AJ.  I don’t think I’m even going to try it.”

Everyone gave their own small versions of a gasp or gulp.  Some ponies began to murmur between each other, some others gave Twilight dirty looks, and others looked on sadly at the crushed Applejack.  Pinkie, however, grabbed a nearby pomegranate and took a large bite out of it casually.  “Darn,” the pony replied.

“Pinkie!” Twilight exclaimed, “You could at least act like you’re concerned about Applejack!  I’m far too worried that something bad might happen if I try the spell—it’s not worth the risk!”

“No, no, Ah understand, Twi,” Applejack said in the least reassuring voice Twilight had ever heard.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I helped!” Pinkie piped up as she consumed the rest of the juicy red fruit.  “No need to fear, Jackie—I have reason to believe that you aren’t allergic to apples anymore!”

“She’s not allergic, Pinkie,” Twilight retorted, “the problem is that she’s—”

“Yeahyeah, psherclogy and other mind-science,” Pinkie interrupted the unicorn.  “Either way, I’m pretty sure Jackie’s already fixed!  It was all in your head, anyway.”

“What in tarnation are you goin’ on about, Pink?” Applejack asked, saying what everyone else was thinking.

Pinkie put on a pair of thick, professor-like lenses that she had apparently pulled out of thin air.  “Well, my dear Jackie, the problem with your conditioner was that it made you think you were sick.  All I had to do was make you uh-soap-ciate—”

“Associate,” Twilight replied.

“Shh, Twilight!” Pinkie exclaimed.  “Not when I’m revealing my Batman Gambit!”

“Your…huh?”

“Anyway Applejack,” Pinkie continued, “Through the events of today I was able to flip your brain back to normal, by relying on one single thing—you.  You were under the impression that apples make you sick; while this was the case for a while, it soon became entirely your own fault that you would become sick.  All I have to do is convince you that you aren’t sick around apples, and you’ll be back to normal.”  She grabbed a pear, examined it, and took a quick bite.

Applejack and Twilight stared, dumbfounded, at the pink pony.  “Who are you and what have you done to Pinkie Pie,” Twilight flatly stated.

“And how’re you s’posed to convince me that my problem’s all in mah head?” Applejack rebutted.  “It’s not all in my head, Pinkie!”

“And that’s where you’re wrong, my little Jackie,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly.  “Apples are your life, and that’s how I knew your subconscious would still react normally!  What I did was assoshriate apples with happiness and fun!  The reason why my chimicherrychanga didn’t erupt in flames like previous times?  It was because I tried a new recipe—one that called for apples, not cherries.”

The news made Applejack flinch, but she didn’t feel sick to her stomach.  “You’re just pulling my chain, right?  You’re just jokin’ around.”

“And then, to a lesser extent,” Pinkie continued, “There was the shiny apple magnet that was the center point of our board game—which, by the way, I absolutely LOVE to play!”  Pinkie broke from her formal tone when she made the mention, but quickly regained herself.  “I didn’t choose the most important game piece to be an apple, Jackie—YOU did.”

Several, confused thoughts were going on in Applejack’s mind.  'Is she serious?  She can’t be…can she?'

“And FINALLY,” Pinkie suddenly spoke up, making everyone jump, “There was our game of hide-and-seek.”

“There were no apples in our game, Pink,” Applejack cockily replied.  “All we did was hide around the house.”

“…But didn’t you find it strange how good you were at finding me?” Pinkie asked, leaning in on Applejack, daring her to realize what she’d done.  As Applejack’s eyes widened, Pinkie elaborated.  “I heard once at Canterlot that some fancy ponies put cake frosting behind their ears.  I did that today, only with applesauce; you found me so well because you were using your nose!”

Everyone was speechless.  Pinkie consumed the rest of the pear—core and all—and rejoined the crowd of Apples, all of whom were staring at her with gaping mouths.  Everyone turned in unison from the once-again-giddy Pinkie Pie, to the astonished Applejack.

“Well, AJ?” Twilight asked cautiously.  “How do you feel?”

Applejack took a deep breath and looked at the closed front door behind her.  “Only one way to find out.”  She placed her hoof onto the face of the door, gave a firm push forward, and leapt to the outside like a pony plunging into a cold swimming pool.  The crowd gave a single, loud gasp inward.

The Apple Family Bi-Annual Get-Together Celebration was going without a hitch.  The entire Apple Family was already hyped up from yesterday, following Pinkie’s ‘Fruit Party’ for Applejack, and after the sick orange mare discovered that she was no longer sick.  Everyone was gathered, having a blast outside the house, surrounded by friends and family.  Applejack specifically couldn’t be happier, enjoying every activity outside in the orchard with all of her family members.  As Twilight watched on the sidelines at Applejack competing in a roping contest with some of her cousins, Pinkie popped up next to her.

“Hey Pinkie,” Twilight said happily, then cut right to the chase.  “I gotta admit, what you did yesterday…well, I’m still shocked.”

“You look a lot better than me when I’m shocked, then,” Pinkie replied.  “When I get shocked, my mane gets all frizzy and static-y.”

Twilight giggled at her friend’s obliviousness.  “Oh, Pinkie…  But, I have to ask: your plan, I mean, it was amazing.  Did you really plan all of that?”

Pinkie blew a raspberry in the air in disagreement.  “What, are you kidding?  I made all of that up!”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie hummed, “That thing about the apples in my changas and the sauce on my ears?  I made that up on the spot, right after you said you couldn’t perform the spell!  Remember when I said that all I needed to do was convince Jackie that apples didn’t get her sick?  That’s all I had to do, and that’s what I did!”  Pinkie beamed at the confused unicorn.  “Oh, but please Pinkie-Promise me you won’t ever tell anypony!  It’s bad enough that I had to lie to her!”

“Uh, y-your secret’s safe with me,” Twilight assured, and shook her head in disbelief.  “…Pinkie, sometimes I think that you’re honestly a genius, and don’t even realize it.  To trick Applejack into setting herself back to normal…that reverse psychology was brilliant.”

“That reminds me,” Pinkie added, getting Twilight’s attention.  “I was talking about this with Jackie yesterday: can pegasi fly because they’re really fat?  Because fat’s lighter than muscle, so that means that it floats, right?”

Dear Princess Celestia:

Today I’ve learned what “mind over matter” really means for me.  If you’re under the impression that you have a problem that you can’t fix yourself, it isn’t going to get fixed.  While a problem may not be entirely in your head, a large part of it can be, and it’s this state of mind that won’t allow you to make any progress.  I suppose what I’m trying to say is that, no matter how bad the situation, you should always enter it with a positive outlook, and if you think nothing good is going to happen, nothing good IS going to happen.

Your faithful subject,

Applejack