A Short Tale of Fruit

by Back Door Mare

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 999

Twilight eats fruit

This was originally going to be a poem, but I decided to expand it to meet the min limit.

It's also an experiment with writing present tense. I guess Bon Appétit?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-09-08 02:00:02 UTC

A Short Tale of Fruit

On this typical autumn afternoon, an obscured sun rests over Apple Acres. Where the clouds break, airy blue sky provides the backdrop. On the ground, the wind relentlessly carries the abundant leaves dropped by rows upon rows of apple trees. It's here we find Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and rambunctious Pinkie Pie having a conversation beside the Apple family barn.

“I could use magic to focus the stream,” Twilight suggests.

Applejack removes her hat and lightly pats the inside.

“I appreciate it and all Twilight, but I still need to find that hose end-”

“Nozzle!” Pinkie Pie interjects.

“Right, nozzle– I can't expect ya to come over every time I need to spray the barn,” Applejack continues

“I understand. Any ideas where it might be?”

“Pinkie Pie can check the wagons, you can look in the kitchen, and I'll recheck the barn.”

The other two confirm the plan and Twilight heads toward the house.

She swings open the door and steps into the room. The wooden floor makes a satisfying click  with each step as she approaches a rustic table.

The tablecloth is red and white with a gingham pattern, reminiscent of a picnic blanket. A single apple sits atop near the center. Invisible sunlight shining through a nearby window gives the plump fruit a sheen. Twilight looks closely at the apple, admiring it's shapely robustness. It is a fine looking apple. Her salivary glands activate and bath her tongue.

Reminding herself of her objective, she beings opening cupboards and scans under the sink, with no luck. Her attention turns again to the table. She hadn't had lunch yet and was staring to feel hungry. Surely one apple on a farm with millions wouldn't be missed.

Satisfied with her initial inspection she raises the apple with her magic, as effortless as one moves their arm. She draws the apple toward her mouth. It casts a shadow as it hovers through space and closes in. Closer...closer...closer still. She takes a bite. A pleasing crunch partners the action.  The juiciness of this specimen is undeniable, and floods her mouth with sweet liquid. As she begins chewing the piece, the ease at which her teeth slide and separate are satisfying. Now mashed into a fine puree, she swallows and opens her mouth running her tongue along the roof, savoring the hints of spice and sugary nectar of the aftertaste.

Suddenly, she realizes her eyes are closed. She opens them bashfully, places the apple back on the table and wipes the corner of her mouth in a dignified manor.

Then something catches her eye. A yellow crescent laying upright on the dark wood end table four paces away. Curiosity being her preferred weakness, she clicks over for a better look.

A banana! She'd recently read a dissertation about the effects of moonlight on banana tree growth rates. She remembers that bananas usually have dark spots as they ripen, but these marks have little to do with the edibility of the fruit. This banana has virtually no markings, and glows vibrantly, indicating optimum ripeness. How unusual. It's pristine peel is a sharp contrast to the blackish wood. It's ends seem to tapper away, dissolving with the table, and leaving behind a golden arch.

She must try it. It was her duty as a scientist and knowledgeable princess to experience this unusual delicacy firsthoof. And besides, Rarity was always telling her to enjoy the luxuries afforded to royalty.

But first, how to open it? The banana is opaqued by a magenta glow and gently floats off the table. After a moment of internal reasoning She concentrates on each side of the top end and slowly pulls apart.  At first nothing happens. The tension rises with each millisecond. Slightly hysteric, she applies more force. Finally, success. The fleshy cover pulls back uniformly into three triangular petals, revealing a snow white oblong center. She admires it's curved body and blunted end.

A familiar saccharine aroma ceases her senses, causing her salivary ducts to fire wildly. She bites into the top. It's much softer than the apple. The decadent flavor isn't cloying like a cupcake, but fresh—oh so fresh and moist. With minimal girding, the warm bite is converted to mush. A tickling sensation envelopes her taste buds, now pushed to the limits of stimulation. After a quick gulp, it's gone. Her eyes are shut again but she doesn't care. She savors every moment as the taste fades and the sensation ceases.

“Uhh, Twilight?”

She jerks her head toward the voice and remains silent. Applejack is standing in the doorway with a bewildered expression.

“I was gonna make muffins with-”

Twilight's cheeks are utterly flushed as the bitten banana still floats beside her head. Her stare is wide eyed and fixed like an animal in a spotlight.

“Well it don't matter. Anyhow, Pinkie Pie found the nozzle so– I'll..see ya outside.”

As Applejack closes the door slowly, Twilight remains perfectly still. After a while she regains composure and drops the banana on the end table. She considers casting a restorative spell on the fruit, but realizes this would only worsen the situation. After a few steps she stops at the door, looking back longingly. Right as the door closes, the apple and banana are teleported into the Apple family pig trough.

Later that night Spike, having secretly stayed awake to read the latest issue of Aquamare begins to drift away when the sound of Twilight murmuring perks his interest. Without making a sound, Spike creeps out of his basket and stands beside the bed. He crosses his arms and shivers a little. Then Twilight starts to speak again.

“What do you mean too much cream? You can't have too much cream...Look how red and ripe they look.”

At this point, Twilight is making licking motions. Spike raises his eyebrow like a spear tip. Then he shrugs and returns to bed. He decides to forget the incident, for everypony dreams of sweet things now and then.