Chapter the first, also the only
It was a bright and sunny day on Sweet Apple Acres. The chores were nearly done and a soft summer breeze was blowing through the orchard. Applejack wiped the sweat from her brow and beamed with pride at a hard day's work. She fished an apple from the bucket of those deemed unfit for sale. Not that they were bad apples, of course. There were precious few truly bad apples on the farm. These just possessed minor imperfections. The skin might be too glossy, or not glossy enough. There might not be two perfect green leaves sprouting from the stem. Perhaps the shape wasn't quite right or the juiciness quotient too low. If you were to ask any Apple family member how they knew of these seemingly invisible imperfections, they would simply shrug. It was an earth pony thing, but more than that it was an Apple thing.
She looked at the apple in her hoof and whispered a faint prayer, not to Celestia, as many ponies did, but to an older deity. The grand progenitor of all apples, who had bestowed His divine blessing on the Apple family in days long past, and had even seen fit to grant a lesser blessing to the Orange family when they joined the Apples by marriage, lest their own deity of citrus forsake them. The Pantheon of Fruits is a strange bunch, at times vindictive but always kind to those with their blessing. Orange and Apple, thankfully, enjoyed a fairly peaceful relationship. Not like a certain OTHER fruit. A certain fruit who's blasphemous Patron had been warring with the Apple for eons. A certain fruit who's very EXISTANCE IS AN AFFRONT TO ALL THINGS.........Ahem, sorry about that.
Anyway, that is of little importance. Applejack finished her prayer, and the Apple of Apples was pleased, and she bit into the fruit she held. The crisp flesh crunched between her teeth, and the sweet juice rushed across her tongue. She chewed, savoring the taste and swearing not to let the imperfection taint the Apple Family wares. It was an Apple's duty to only sell the best of the best, apples without peer in the produce market. Anything less was sacrilege.
As she ate, she saw a pony stumbling up the road. Wrapped in tattered cloth, it trudged and limped along slowly. The kindness and generosity in Applejack's heart, left their by the influence of certain friends of hers, rose up and forced her to act. She galloped over to the pony's side just as its legs failed and it stumbled to its side in the dust.
“Whoa there pardner.” She drawled, catching the pony before they fell. “You alright?”
An eye, its color between pale green and gold, rolled to look at her. The pony staggered to its feet and nodded. It raised one pale yellow-green hoof and lowered its hood. A stallion with a ragged brown mane, he was breathing heavily.
“I'm fine.” He rasped. “Just lost my balance.”
He began to walk again, hooves dragging on the dirt road.
“You ain't fine pardner.” Applejack said, blocking his progress. “And Ah won't hear nothin' to the contrary. Yer stayin' with mah family tonight. Then, if yer better tomorrow, you can go.”
“I couldn't, I don't want to impose.” The stallion said, managing a weak smile. “I'll just find a bench or a soft bush somewhere to lay my head.”
“T'ain't no imposition, and Ah won't hear no fer an answer.” She said, stomping as she did so. “We Apples're known for our hospitality.”
The stallion sighed, adjusting his rags. He met Applejack's stare, but try as he might he could not make her back down. Not with the pride of the Apple family at stake, he couldn't.
“Fine.” He said, lowering his head. “I'll stay one night. But I'm moving on tomorrow, and nothing you say will stop me.”
Applejack grinned, tossing the core of her apple over her shoulder and grabbing the stallion's. She half led, half dragged him up the road and onto the porch.
“I knew you'd see sense.” She said, leading him into the house. As the door shut behind him, she hollered, “Applebloom! Set another seat at the table, we've got a guest fer supper!”
“Sure sis!” A voice called from the other end of the house, followed by the sound of a dish and silverware hitting a table at reasonable speed.
“Macintosh,” Applejack called, “Air out the guest room, we got comp'ny!”
“Eeyup!” A deep voice rang out.
Applejack took the stallion around the farmhouse on a tour as supper cooked. She showed him the guest room he would be staying in, showed him the outhouse, showed him the bathroom, failed completely to explain why exactly they had both, and finally led him into the kitchen. A large pot of hearty vegetable stew sat on the table, and three ponies sat around it. A large brick red stallion, a small yellow filly with a large red bow in her hair, and an elderly mare with a yellow-green coat only a few shades off from the stallion's own.
“Pardner, this here's mah brother Big Macintosh, mah sister Applebloom, and mah grandma Granny Smith.” Applejack said as she sat down and motioned for the stallion to do the same. “Folks, this here's....” She trailed off, a confused look in her eyes. “Land sakes pardner! I plum forgot to ask yer name!”
The stallion laughed, hanging his ragged coat on the chair back. Beneath it he wore a simple white shirt that was oddly clean considering his condition when Applejack had found him. The shirt-tails neatly covered most of his cutie mark, revealing only a yellow blotch.
“The name's Bartlett, my friend.” He said, his voice no longer so raspy as it had been. “I do hope you don't mind me calling you that. My mother always taught me that if someone invites you into their home out of the goodness of their hearts, without even knowing you, they're a true friend.”
“Pleased to meetcha Bartlett!” Applejack said, vigorously shaking his hoof. The other Apples gave their greetings as well, and they all began to eat.
The meal was delicious, the stew rich and thick with chunks of vegetable. It was accompanied by freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven, and what was clearly home-churned butter. Dessert was, predictably, apple pie. After the meal, they sat around the fireplace drinking mugs of cider. Bartlett entertained the family with tales of his travels, until at long last they realized the time. The stallion wrapped up his tale with a flourish.
“And that, my friends, is how I learned NEVER to insult the size of a pegasus' wings. I think I still have the bruises!” He said, tossing back the last of his cider. Applebloom gathered the mugs and returned them to the kitchen, and the ponies all headed upstairs to go to bed.
Applejack was just about to lay down when a thought crossed her mind, something that had been nagging at her for hours. She made her way to the guest room and knocked.
“One moment, if you please!” Bartlett called out.
Applejack opened the door. Bartlett was climbing into bed, his shirt hanging in a corner. His flank was bared, exposing his cutie mark completely. The yellow blotch she'd seen earlier, that she'd thought nothing of, was in fact a pair of PEARS! The abominable fruit were visible, clear as day. The stallion grinned sheepishly and threw the blanket at Applejack and bolted.
“GIT BACK HERE YOU VARMINT!” Applejack shouted as she disentangled herself from the blanket. Bartlett Pear was almost at the window, his hooves slamming the floor. He paused, his hooves on the sill, and looked back at her.
“VENGEANCE IS OURS SPAWN OF THE APPLE!” He cried, breaking out in laughter.
Without another word, he lept out the window and landed in a roll. Applejack shouted after him, a volley of profanity that would make the saltiest sailor blush, as he galloped down the road and out of sight.
“What's wrong sis?” Applebloom asked, standing in the doorway and rubbing her eyes. “Why're you yelling?”
“We've been had Applebloom.” She said, taking off her hat. “We gave hospitality to a member of the Pear family.”
At that moment, Apples all across Equestria felt a collective shudder of unease. An ancient covenant had been broken, the fires of an ancient war had been stoked once more, a tentative peace that had lasted centuries had been dashed apart.
The fury of the Apple had been aroused. The Pear would pay, no matter what the cost. The Pear would PAY.
Author's Note
This is nothing more or less than a silly one shot written out of boredom.
I have no regrets.