Naughty Farmer

The hallway was dark, not too dark that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, but still dark enough to make your eyes dilate. Big McIntosh sighed as he sat in the back stage area. His eyes remained fixated on the floor as he sat on the stool. His blonde bangs shielded his face from any passer by from seeing the look of self loathing on his face. He hated what he was about to do. He hated what he had been doing for the past few months. He let out a low groan as he finally picked his head up. His forest green eyes looking towards the stage as he felt heart begin to pound in his chest. Even though he hated this new moonlight gig, even though he felt it degrading, and even though he prayed to Celestia and Luna above that no one he knew would ever catch him doing this degrading line of work, he loved it. It was so outside of his preconceived routines that it was fun. He thought back about how this all started.

A few months ago

A few months back, McIntosh was out working the field. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his glove covered hand. Gazing over the orchid, he let a smile form on his face. He was proud of the work he had done. The fields were a lush green filled to the brim with juicy ripe apples just waiting to be bucked out of them. As he moved towards his next tree, he let released the rope of the cart he had been hauling along with him. His muscles relaxed as he gave them a much needed moment of reprieve from pulling apples all day. After securing the cart and grabbing a few empty crates from the cart, the young man set them in several places around the tree. The tree itself was old, clear dents and forced groves were plastered all over its barked surface. Spotting a particular groove, he smiled. His knees bent as he assumed a type of fighting stance. Truth be told, the Apple family had spent decades crafting a very interesting way of harvesting apples. In one fluid flowing motion, McIntosh pivoted his hips and preformed a snap kick into the groove. The force of impact sent shock waves through his well sculpted legs. shook the great tree to its foundation and caused a rain of apples to fill the crates. He kicked again with just as much power as the last, getting the same result as before. Satisfied with his handy work, and a great deal of trees now removed from the tree, the farmer hoisted two full crates of apples onto his shoulders and proceeded back to his cart.

Loading his cargo, and gathering up the rope up for his cart in his hands, he set back to the barn. A nice breeze blew through the trees as he approached the house. The barn stood tall and proud as it always had, it's red planks freshly painted, doors refit or replaced entirely, and the shingles replaced after the last big storm. All done at his own speed and patience. Though one thing did strike him as odd as he approached. There was a unfamiliar car sitting next to the house, and the faint sound of his younger sister screaming at the top of her lungs. As he neared, the screaming began to quell to a stop. Putting the cart away in the barn, McIntosh headed to the house to see what had gotten his sister so wound his sister uptight. A rather slim man exited their home; a slick looking man in a suit and tie holding a briefcase looked at the farmer and smirked before heading over to the car. McIntosh looked back at the man and then to the door. Upon entering he noticed the sun-kissed woman sitting at the table. Her usual stetson was sitting in front of her, blonde locks covered her face as she rested her forehead on her hands with fingers laced. McIntosh let the door go slowly, but it was still enough to rouse his sister's attention. Her head snapped up, bright green gems gazed at the well toned man, and then dropped back down to their original position.

“Hey big brother,” she called out. Her voice sounded strained from prolong screams of anger and frustration. Her body heaved up as she took a long drawn breath and then slowly released it. He watched as she pushed herself from her seat and stood up. She wore a orange flannel shirt, which she usually tied the ends together to shorten the hand-me-down fabric. A pair of very worn out blue jeans that had been cut at the thigh to re-purpose them as shorts. Under the flannel was a white tank top, which must have just been put on since it was still crisp and bleach white. The sound of her boots echoed through the silent room as she approached her brother. “How went the harvestin'?” she asked. He looked down at her face, doing a quick read of her emotions to see what words to use. Her nose was lightly scrunched up. Her eyebrows knitted close, eyes oddly aggressive as she shifted them lightly towards a random direction. Something was wrong. Big time.

“A.J, what ain't cha' tellin' me?” he asked in his usual monotone baritone. The girl flinched at the question. She looked into his eyes. Those strong eyes that could always pull the truth from her no matter how bad it was. She shut her eyes tightly and turned away from his so her eyes could not plead for his help. Damn that girl's pride sometimes.

“It ain't nothin' ah can't handle Mac,” she said. There was a slight quiver in her voice. That was always a sure sign she was not telling him something. To which, the elder of the two walked up to the table, and took the stetson from it. Placing it on A. J’s head, he said the one phrase that would always make her confess.

“Swear on Pa's hat, you ain't keepin' nothin' from me,” he said gently. The girl's body visibly flinched and recoiled. Two things would happen; the first and most likely, she would cave and tell him what was wrong. The second; only held for matters involving finances, the farm, the family, or all of the above. She would rip the hat off and shout that there was nothing wrong. To his shock, the latter happened. Whipping on her brother, A.J glared at him and reached for the hat. With just enough time, he lifted it from her head before her fingers could touch the rim. One look into her eyes said all that he needed to know. Tears ran down her freckled cheeks as she glared at her brother with such an intense feeling of anger.

“Ain't nothin' ah can't handle,” she said coldly. Her words felt laced with venom as she stormed out of the room. Left alone, McIntosh let out a light sigh. He dusted the old stetson off gently before placing it on the table from wince it came. Looking over the table, he saw a letter. The seal ripped open, and it's contents spilled from it like an gaping wound. Taking the slips of paper into his hand, he examined them. Final notices, and quite a few of them. The farm had to be refinanced because of much needed repairs. The bank offered to help out with a few loans here and there. Usually they were always prompt and on time with their payments. But in the past few months, what with A.J becoming a hero of the land and wielding the Element of Honesty, multiple events being held in the barn, and the constant repairs that needed to be done, their revenue had to be redirected to other places. In Mac's opinion, it would have been less cost effective to just build a new barn. Looking at the table again, he found the ledger of all the Apple Family transactions. Apple sales were down, or at least on paper they were. Sitting down, McIntosh began thumbing through their profits and losses, seeing what had changed. It was fairly recent, just a few months back. A large buyer of apples, Barnyard Bargains, was paying a much lesser amount for Zap Apple Jam and other apple goods. True, the original agreement was fair to both parties, but not since Mr. Rich got a new business partner with his cousin D. Money(Dirty Money), had their cut of profits drop. With a groan McIntosh let out a held breath.

“No wonder she's so mad,” he said low. Wasn't much that he could do about this one. This was a legal matter now, based on a very old contract that was created two generations ago. The family could sue, present the ledger and documentation as evidence and try and get compensation for their losses. However, knowing the lawyers of the family were all very adept at pulling legal bull remained wedged in the farmer's mind. He placed a hand on his forehead and rested his elbow on the table. The hardened wooden surface didn't even budge at the pressure of his new found burden. “What am ah gonna do?” he asked himself lightly. His mind couldn't really process this at the moment. He was getting screwed by one of the family's oldest business partners. Wasn't right in the slightest. Sadly though, his schedule would not dictate too much time for worrying about this. Apples need to get to the market and be sold. And with A.J clearly in no real mood to do any type of apple bartering, the responsibility fell onto him.

Ascending the stairs, McIntosh walked into his room. It was always a convenience having his room to the left of the stair well. He pushed the door open and looked over his room. It was mildly plain. A bed sat at the furthest wall next to a large open window that let in the breeze. Curtains open to let in the beautiful sun and moon light depending on the time. His dresser sat opposite his bed. On top of the smooth surface of his dresser, were several picture frames, each holding precious memories. He closet was next to the dresser, which made it very easy to grab the essentials at the beginning of his day. He approached the closet and opened it slowly. He was greeted with several shirts that he kept hung up just in case he had to sell apples. Figures today would be a day he'd have to. His eyes scanned his shirts until they reached a desirable one. It was a green and white short sleeve flannel with a pocket on the left breast. His hands snatched the shirt out and then closed the door behind him. Tossing the shirt to the bed, he opened the top dresser drawer and glanced around inside it for a few seconds. He found a nice, fresh, white undershirt he could wear under it. With another toss, it too was now on the bed. Replacing the open drawer with one from the bottom of the dresser, he acquired a new pair of navy blue boot cut jeans. With fresh clothing chosen, he set about undressing.

First was his work shirt, which was a solid red short sleeve button up shirt made of a very sturdy fabric to keep from ripping. With practiced hands, he unfastened each button with a quick succession of movements. His hands gripped the front of his shirt and peeled it off of his chest and let it slack off his arms. His body was muscular to say the least. Muscles bulged under his lightly tanned skin. Along his stomach, a set of well worked abdominal muscles that could even make a Greek gladiator envious. As the shirt slipped off of his arms, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He was clearly a product of his life style. A very well oiled machine purposed for hard work. Next to go were his faded blue work jeans. Those let out a rather audible thud as they were loosed from his belt's grip. His legs were just as honed as the rest of him, able to fell an apple tree in a single kick. With the old off, it was time to put the new on. He took the undershirt first, pushing his head up through the bottom of it through the neck and then wrestled his arms through the arm holes where sleeves should be. Next came the jeans. Taking them from the bed, he stepped into them and pulled them up his legs. They were a bit form fitting, but other than that, they severed their purpose well enough. Last and most important was the new shirt. In a rather lazy motion, he threw his arms through the sleeves and pulled the front up so it clung to his back snugly. For now, he decided to just leave the front open until he got to the market. Fully dressed, and ready to make some apple sales, McIntosh was ready to go.

~

Ponyville. There was always something going on in this quiet little town. Ether some form of celebration from the party planner in Pinkie Pie, or some kind of disaster that needed to be stopped by the Bearers of Harmony, or just some other random happenstance that required everyone to run screaming in fear or panic. McIntosh quietly strolled into town, which was always rare for him. He loved his home town dearly, but he would take the peace and quiet of the farm any day of the week. He found himself looking about the town, just to make sure everything was still where it was suppose to be. The local sweets shop, Sugarcube Corner, was still just as busy with people coming in and out with big grins on their faces, and some coming out laughing with streamers and confetti in their hair. McIntosh chuckled lightly seeing people in such a festive mood. His ears twitched lightly as the sound of wheels snuck up on him. A very familiar scooter shot past him. Scootaloo, one of Applebloom's friends, rode past him while doing an assortment of tricks on her scooter. He pondered what kind of trouble this girl was gonna get into today. Shaking his head lightly, he slowly let the atmosphere of the town wash away his troubles with the bank and his business partner. He found his way to the marketplace and set up shop with the cart of goods he had been lugging with him since he left the farm.

The family stall was recently repaired, with most of it being done by little Applebloom. It was simple, yet got across what they sold. Apples and apple based products. Once around back, he started unloading his goods and setting up the pies and fritters first. Placing them gently on the shelves and counter top. Next he lugged over a few buckets of apples and set them down, setting the sale sign which read “1 pound = 5 bits”. With that done, he flipped the sign under the stall from closed to open, and began his sales day. It didn't take too long for his first sale to come by in the form of the town librarian, Twilight Sparkle. Her attire was as uniform as it had always been. A black sweater vest over top a tucked in white long sleeve button up, a black school uniform skirt, and her usual causal shoes.

“Good afternoon Big Mac,” she called to him as she approached. McIntosh gave her a nice smile and straightened up a bit before addressing her.

“Afternoon Ms. Twilight,” he said back. “What can ah do ya for?” he asked showing her his goods.

“Let's see. I need about 3 pounds of apples, and an apple pie for Spike,” she said. McIntosh had already set to work gathering up the apples. He loaded the small batch into a bag and tested its weight a bit to make sure he was fairly accurate with the amount. Satisfied after adding an apple or two, he placed the bag onto the counter top. Next he reached up and grabbed one of the pies he had just set out. They kept pie boxes in the stall, curtsy of Ms. Pie, and wrapped the bundle up to go.

“Here ya are Ms. Twilight. That'll run ya about 20 bits,” he said with a smile.

“A fair price as usual Mr. Mac,” Twilight said with a light chuckle. She always did enjoy his southern comfort style and manners when he spoke. She reached into her coin purse and handed the man the bits she owed. Taking the bag of apples and pie, she waved him a good bye. Before she walked away though, something did strike her as a bit odd. “Say Big Mac, where's Applejack?” she asked. To this McIntosh only closed his eyes for a moment and then give her his usual smile.

“She wasn't feelin' to up fer sellin' today. So I took up the reigns fer a change,” he said with a light shrug. Twilight studied his expression for a few moments before giving him a nod and a smile.

“Alright, well tell her I hope she feels better,” Twilight said with a kind and caring smile. McIntosh waved back at her as his next sale walked up. Apple sales were good. By the end of his second hour, he had sold out on fritters and pies, and was down to only about 3 pounds of apples. Looking over his product, he'd have to turn the remaining apples to pies and then head back home to get more apples. With a solid nod, he switched the sign to closed once more and gathered up the remaining apples and loaded them into his cart. There was a handful of places he could go to make pies. All of which were owned or lived in by A. J’s friends. Thinking on which places would have the supplies he needed, the only clear option was the Corner. He was friends with the Cake family that runs it. Hell, they've done business in the past when they wanted to make pies. So with a clear destination in mind, McIntosh headed for Sugarcube Corner

~

The bell above the door jingled loudly and annoyingly as McIntosh entered the store. He had already situated his cart in the back of the store, now he just needed permission. A rather lanky man at the counter turned to see the farmer. He smiled and removed his bakers hat for a moment as he ran a hand over his messy orange hair, effectively pushing it out of his face.

“Hey there Big Mac,” the man called out. McIntosh gave him a warm smile as he approached and leaned against the counter top.

“Afternoon Carrot. Ah got a proposition for ya,” McIntosh said as he leaned in. Carrot shook his head lightly and then leaned in as well.

“Alright, shoot. What ya got for me?” Carrot asked.

“Well, ah need to borrow yer oven and some bakin' goods to make up some more fritters and pies. Now ah know y'all got some spare flower n' what nots. So iffin' ah cut ya in on mah sales fer the day, how would that wet yer whistle?” McIntosh said laying down the deal. Carrot took a few moments to consider the proposal.

“Hmmm, that is quite the deal you'd be askin' of me Mac. What's the split?” he asked. He locked eyes with the farmer, searching for anything that could tip him off. With a smile, McIntosh knew a sure fire way to make the deal go his way.

“60-40 in mah favor, and ah'd buy ya a couple rounds at the bar,” McIntosh said. He made a gun using his index finger and thumb and shot it at Carrot after explaining the drinks end of the deal. Carrot, playing along, put his hands over his heart and made a mock death gurgle as he fell to the counter top. The two quickly exchanged laughs as Carrot righted himself back to a standing position.

“You got yourself a deal there Mac, supplies are in the back. And don't mind Pinkie too much,” Carrot said pointing to the kitchen area with his thumb.

“Much appreciated there Carrot,” McIntosh said as he walked on past the counter. The two gave each other a light high five as the farmer headed into the kitchen area. Opening the back door, he walked out to his cart and pulled it in close. Taking about a pound or so of apples, he brought the batch in and closed the door behind him, not seeing the mass of pink hair that was now standing behind the door he had just closed. The ball of pink, was dressed in a light blue shorts that went to about her mid thigh, a pink over shirt that hung off her shoulders, and blue and white stripped socks that were tucked into blue and white converse sneakers. Her hair was a puffed up mess of tangled curls and her baby blue eyes were wide with excitement.

“Hiya Macky!!!” she shouted as she bounced around McIntosh. He gave her a smile and watched as she bounced.

“Afternoon Ms. Pie,” he said as he set the apples down on the kitchen counter. Pinkie frowned for a second before smiling again.

“Macky, I told you. We're friends! You can just call me Pinkie!” she shouted jumping around him. McIntosh simply rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly at her antics.

“Ms. Pie, y'all know mah granny ain't raise no upstart. Ah use mah manners with all womenfolk. No exceptions unless we kin,” he add. Pinkie deflated slightly at the statement, but was instantly brought back to life with his next statement. “An' seein' as we're cousins, Ah think it's time I started callin' ya such Pinkie,” he said with a grin. Pinkie's smile was a mile wide as she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.

“AWWWWWW!” she cooed in delight. She blinked a few times before giving his neck another light squeeze. Letting him go as he mashed cut up the apples, she examined his physique. Lightly touching his biceps, shoulders, back and abs. This investigation required more information on her part. Looking at the oven, she got an idea. “I've gotta put some pies in the oven, you don't mind do you?” she asked. McIntosh looked over to the oven than back to her. With a shake of his head he answered.

“Nope,” he said simply. Pinkie smiled and flicked on the oven. She went to the fridge and took out a couple pies that were ready to be baked. Than she played the waiting game. The two made idle conversation. Mainly McIntosh explaining some of the ends and outs of philosophy that he had read from a book, and his own take on it. These kinds of talks were what he and Pinkie usually did when together. Every so often she would ask a question, and he would explain it in a rather simple way.

“So what your saying is, nice guys finish last on purpose?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

“Eeyup. A nice fella has the same chance of winnin' as the competitive fella. Heck, nice fella may even be better than the other fella, but the nice fella can tell it means more to the other to win. So he pulls back for the happiness of another,” he said. Pinkie looked like her mind had just been blown clean out of her head.

“Woah....I never thought about it like that?” she said aloud. She took the back of her hand and wiped some of the sweat that had been forming there for a while now. She smiled as her plan was now taking shape. She looked over to McIntosh, who sure enough, was also feeling the effects of the oven.

“Ya'll mind iffin' ah take this off?” he asked looking up at Pinkie. He had the collar of his shirt in his hand and tugged at it to show he meant the whole shirt.

“Go right ahead,” she said with a grin. She watched with captured attention as he undid each button to the bottom of the shirt. Taking the fronts into his hands, he pulled the garment off in his usual practiced motion, now revealing his still but barely covered chest, arms, and neck. With a light toss, he flung the shirt onto the back of a chair. At this point, Pinkie's eyes were roaming his body. Drinking in how his undershirt clung tightly to his chest and abs, how his arms flexed and moved as he made delicious pies and fritters. He caught her staring once. She recoiled not too noticeably and tried to play it off. Though that didn't stop the little trail of drool that leaked from the corner of her mouth. Wiping the drool from her mouth, she allowed herself a moment to try and gather herself up. She did realize that she had pies to bake. Hopping down from her perch on the counter top, she quickly opened the door and slide her pies into the oven and shut it once they were in.

“Hold on there missy,” McIntosh called out, just as Pinkie was about to close up the oven. He brought over a tray of fritters and pies and did like she had done in putting them into the oven. At this point, the farmer was dotted with beads of sweat . His skin lightly glistening, giving a fine sheen to him. Pinkie really couldn't hold back her blush as she looked at his arms as they moved the tray into the oven. As Pinkie observed him, she noticed the look on his face. It was a look of a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes seemed distant and far seeing, and what he saw troubled him.

“Is everything ok Macky?” Pinkie asked getting his attention. McIntosh turned his head to the side, and was greeted with a look of great concern on Pinkie's face. He let out a soft sigh and started debating if he should tell her. It would no doubt irk A.J to no end seein' as how it was a family matter, but seein' as how Pinkie was family, maybe it was ok. He needed someone to confide in.

“Farm is in danger,” he said standing up straight. Pinkie gasped loudly and covered her mouth. He let out a soft chuckle at her over reaction. “One of our long time partners has been skimmin' off us for a while now. And because of it, we've haven't been makin' payments like we should to the bank,” he explained. He took a light breath and continued. “So we're in a fix, an' A.J is bein' stubburn again and won't ask fer help about it. Ah don' know what to do about it aside from get a part time job or somethin',” he said with a groan. Pinkie listened rather intently. She wore a sorrowful expression, feeling her heart go out to the apple family.

“I'm sorry Macky. I wish I could help,” Pinkie said gently before leaning into the farmer. McIntosh gave her a light hug. As he embraced her, her eyes snapped open and she let out a gasp. “WAIT!! I know someone who could help you out!!” she shouted. McIntosh had to physically back her up, as she shouted into his ear. With her at a good distance, he looked at her.

“What are y'all talkin' about Pinkie?” he asked.

“I know someone in Ponyville who is looking for some guys to work late at night,” she shouted with a big grin. McIntosh raised an eyebrow at the bouncing ball of smiles.

“Ah don' know Pinkie. Ah ain' much good at nothin' aside from apples and apple related stuffs,” he retorted. He suddenly felt self conscious about his limited skill pool. It was all geared towards farm related things, like apple buckin' and repair work. Not much else other than that. He felt Pinkie put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a mile wide grin and a wink.

“Trust me Macky, you'll do just fine at it,” she said with a reassuring nod. McIntosh sighed gently and gave her a defeated smile.

“Alright Pinkie, you win. Where is this place at?” he asked. Pinkie reached into her plentiful curls and pulled forth a pen and paper. She scribbled down a few words and handed it to McIntosh. He examined the address. It wasn't too far from Sugarcube Corner. There was a time listed on the paper as well. Looking up, Pinkie answered the question that was now on his mind.

“That's the time I'll meet you there so you won't feel so out of place when you talk to the lady in charge,” Pinkie said with a smile. McIntosh was starting to have second thoughts about this, but if it could pay enough to help get the bank off the family's back, than it was worth a shot.

~

The rest of the day just seemed to go by in a blur. McIntosh and Pinkie successfully finished their respective baking projects, McIntosh had gone back to selling apples, and the day was nearly done. Packed up, McIntosh took the cart back home. Along the way, he passed by Sugarcube Corner again, this time casting a glance much longer than he normally did. Pinkie's plan was still at the forefront of his mind. Well, if anything there would be no real lose in checking it out. With that thought in mind, he headed for home. He wondered if A.J was in the same mood as when he had left. He sighed gently, not really wanting to deal with a disgruntled and clearly upset younger sister after a long day of buckin' and sellin' apples. His walk was undisturbed, save for the wind blowing through the trees. The light rustling helped set the calm of the orange painted evening sky. Clouds now bore the light orange of the setting sun and deep purple for their shadows. McIntosh was always amazed by the vast colors that the world around had to offer. With a light smile, he approached the farm house. He hitched the cart up and stretched his arms out wide. He let out a rather loud yawn as he scratched his head. It had been a long day, and the night only seemed to be just as long.

“HIYA MAC!!” a young voice called out. Turning around, he saw his kid sister. She was wearing her usual blue overalls, a yellow shirt, and her hair tied back with a large pink bow. Applebloom smiled running up to her brother, jumping at him. With a fluid motion, he scooped the girl up and set her up on his shoulder, where he normally perched her.

“Hey there Bloom,” he said with a light laugh. She smiled down at him and hugged his head tightly.

“Where ya been all day? Ah ain' seen ya since ah went tah school?” she asked.

“Well, A.J wasn't feelin' too hot to do some apple sellin' so ah stepped in,” he said with a light laugh.

“And Ah'm glad ya did,” came another voice. McIntosh and Applebloom turned their heads to see Applejack standing on the porch of the house. She was leaning against the support beam, her hat still missing, but her attitude clearly changed for the better. She had a warm smile and gentle look on her face as she walked over to her siblings. “Mac, Ah wanna apologize about how ah acted earlier,” she said looking away from his general direction. The eldest apple smiled gently and looked to his little sister.

“Hang on fer a sec,” he said to her. Applebloom nodded and clutched onto his head again. With a swoop, he knelt down, and scooped Applejack up into the same seated position as Applebloom on his free shoulder.

“Woah nelly!!” Applejack shouted out. With her weight now on his shoulders, McIntosh effortlessly lifted himself to a standing position.

“Ain' no need to be apologizin' there sugarcube,” he said up to her. With both sisters now secure, he started to walk away from the farm house and to an apple tree. The Applejack smiled gently and let out a long relieved sigh. Now in easy picking distance, the two sister Apples plucked fruit from the tree. One for Bloom, and two for A.J. McIntosh smiled and let the two down, sharing a hug with them tightly. “There ain' nothin we can't do so long as we make the effort tah do it,” he said to Applejack. She simply laughed and handed him the apple she plucked for him. As if making a toast, the three pressed their apples together and said in unison “Apples to the core” before taking large chomps. They smiled all around until they heard a very familiar sound.

“SOUPS ON EVERYBODY!!!” Granny Smith called out from the kitchen. Immediately the three siblings faces lit up with joy and made a almost mad dash for the house. Dinner time.