Sour Apples

by Atreyu

Rating: everyone
Tags: Applejack, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Pinkie Pie
Length: 2082

Applejack is having a dismal week, when a friend gives her some illuminating advice

For Applejack, everyday has turned out to be "just one'a those days".
She finds herself in a despairing rut --when a friend gives her some illuminating advice...
-----------------------
Cover image: Applejack, Why so serious? by KurosakiSoarin @ DeviantArt
http://th08.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/031/8/9/applejack__why_so_serious__by_kurosakisoarin-d4o9nin.png

Published 2015-02-09 16:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-09 16:30:02 UTC

Pony Feathers

Applejack had delighted in a majority of the mechanics of Sweet Apple Acres for a long time now.
Since she had first learnt the universal and time-honoured lesson of: ‘not to touch the hot stove’, her fluency in the kitchen and with baking had only improved. Her skills extended even further, as she became quite the salespony with the baked goods and crisp apple ciders she had made in the kitchen with her Granny Smith.
And sure enough, one day, she was finally old enough to help her big brother out in the fields!
Near every day o' the week, she’d go out with her brother in the cool sparkling mornings to “git th’ apples outta bed”, and once again in the radiant evenings to “tuck ‘em in together” inside the bushel carts.

Yes, Applejack delighted in a majority of the mechanics of Sweet Apple Acres.
...Although, it was impossible to tell that from looking upon the stoic image of her and Big Macintosh staring nonchalantly down at the: 'fruits of their labour'.
The first tree Applejack had bucked for the week yielded a crop of: rotten, blemished, sour apples—with familiar looking bite marks in them.
Applejack, eyes half-closed, continued to stare at the smooshed apples, “Fruit Bats?” she sighed.

Big Macintosh turned the strand of wheat he was chewing on to the other side of his mouth, “Eeyup.”

“...pony feathers” Applejack replied with calloused irritation.

***

The lack of usable apples, leaked trouble into the kitchen: reduced quantities made for smaller servings.
Smaller servings lead to changed ratios.
Changed ratios lead to the incorporation of ‘fancy mathematics’.
‘Fancy mathematics’ lead to overcooked pies, and overcooked pies lead to a disappointed baker.
“Pony feathers”

Applejack’s draining schedule would reach the end of its cycle with her tendering the—slightly overcooked, or “extra crispy”—baked goods at the Sweet Apple Acres Family market stall.
Unlike Sugarcube Corner, the Apple’s treats were specialties that were only available every other day-- due to their emphasis on quality...and of course, significant lack of ponypower.

Today, however, Applejack rested discontentedly on the counter of the family’s market stall, hoof buried in her cheek, head sloped lazily, eyes half-lidded.
She had passed the last few hours waiting, in vain hope, that Twilight and the gang would heroically come bounding along to recruit her for their next exciting new mission from the Princess...
“...ahhh, pony feathers” she sighed.

Applejack attempted to shift her focus from her bored suffering “...Sure is quiet without Applebloom... Hope her cold cures soon.” She gazed lazily across the quiet marketplace “...for both our sakes” she sighed, dropping her chin to the counter.

Applejack’s weary mopping was interrupted by Pinkie Pie, sliding her head up from the other side of the counter, slithering across to meet Applejack nose to nose.
Applejack jolted upright “Wah! Pinkie? Where’dijya—How did...”

Applejack’s bewildered questions were met with a question from Pinkie Pie.
“Heya, Applejack! What do you get when you cross a Suri Alpaca with a Poodle?” her eyes beamed intently as she quizzed her friend.
Applejack tapped her hoof to her chin for a few moments. Partly to humour her friend’s whimsy, partly because this was the first conversation she’d had since with Big Macintosh this morning.
She concluded with a shrug of her shoulders.

“An Apple Stroodle!” Pinkie exploded, bouncing into the air like fireworks.
After an unnatural amount of hangtime, she returned to solid ground and stood upright, her hind legs crossed, casually leaning an elbow on the counter with one foreleg. She slid a gold bit across the counter.

Applejack chuckled at her friend’s jolliness as she produced an apple strudel from her stall and passed it over to Pinkie.

Pinkie Pie eagerly chomped into the delicious pastry. “So, how’ya been?” she asked, mouth still full of strudel.

“Ehh, alright...” Applejack sighed, rubbing her neck with her hoof.
She dropped her hoof; banging it down on the counter “Cept those darnded fruit bats h’been stealing all our crops again!” she scowled, shaking her head in frustration.

Pinkie swallowed, “Oh no! Is the sanctuary not working?”

Applejack batted a hoof, “Naw, the sanctuary’s been a life saver.”
“It’s just—” She leaned closer to Pinkie Pie, continuing in a hush tone “the bats just came outta...that season and so they got a whole heap more mouths ta feed.”
Pinkie covered her mouth with a hoof as she couldn’t help but slip a giggle.
Applejack returned to her side of the counter “Which shouldn’t be a problem—that is if they’d stick to the sanctuary like they’re spous’ta!” she added spitefully.

“Those naughty newborns!” Pinkie Pie scolded playfully.

“Speakin’ of younger kin, Apple Bloom’s been a mite sick as o late, so, mannin’ the fort s’been... kinda dull” Applejack rolled her eyes down and scuffed the dirt with her hoof.

“Aw, poor Applebloom” Pinkie frowned in sympathy. “Ah well, she’s a fresh, young, whipper-snapper, so I’m sure she’ll come around in a jiffy—or in a snap!” she added with a wink and a hearty swing of her hoof.
Applejack remained staring wearily at the ground. She chuckled quietly as an absent-minded grin slowly formed, “Heh. Yeah...”

She snapped back to reality and looked up to Pinkie with a smile, “So, how bout’chu Pinkie Pie? How’re ya’ll travelling?”
“Super-ific!” Pinkie threw her head back in zest. “Though, lately I’ve been busier than a one-legged horse at a butt-kicking contest!” she explained, throwing her hooves into the air and dropping them down onto the counter.

“Is that right?” Applejack laughed.

“Yeah, Sugarcube Corner’s been a mad-house lately!” Pinkie pulled her cheeks down.
It was all Applejack could do to limit her sniggering at Pinkie’s capriciousness.

“The cakes have to renew their business licence—or something, big and serious-businessy like that-- I forget” Pinkie flapped a hoof in disinterest, before she did yet another emotional three-sixty “Of course Pound and Pumpkin can’t come, so they left them with: meeeeeeee!” she sung with glee.

Applejack chuckled and shook her head in delight. She let out a cheer of relief, before a thought suddenly struck her, “--Uhhh, Pinkie Pie?" Applejack's eyes darted curiously, she cast a quick few glances over the counter "Where are they?”

Pinkie moved her mane to reveal a baby monitor taped to her ear, “They’re still napping.”

Applejack squinted and angled back, unsure of whether she was relieved or slightly more concerned.

“But, I should be going” Pinkie concluded regrettably. “I just ducked out to pick up some more flour. You know how those kids can be” she rolled her eyes with a smile.
“Alrighty then, I won’t keep ya” Applejack dismissed with a smile.

“Thanks for stoppin’ by!” she called, waving to Pinkie as she skipped back home.
Pinkie turned and smiled, cheerfully waving back.

***

Applejack’s draining cycle repeated.
Each day, she got herself up and out of bed, quietly made her way to the kitchen-- due to Apple Bloom’s ailments, the communal ritual of a warm family breakfast, was reduced to Applejack having cereal with herself-- she would then set out to work with her brother, collected the sparse few good apples left in the trees and then baking them, before heading out to the marketplace.
Where she would stand on her lonesome until evening.

***

By Friday, the déjà vu of her week was wearing thin.

Applejack muttered begrudgingly as she attached herself to her apple-cart “Stupid fruit bats, stealing our livelihood...”
The sun slowly breathed life into the landscape with its glorious, morning rays.
Applejack continued her grumblings, making her way out to the orchard.

The more she dissected her recent misfortunes, the greater her scowl became “I can’t believe I’m going to all this trouble--" she vented her frustrations with a brutal thump to the quivering apple-tree, collecting the fruit almost as an afterthought.
Her bloodshot, baggy eyes observed the fallen crop "--to be collecting rotten apples!”
She had contracted Apple Bloom’s head-cold and the cold morning air had her nose running like a tap, her head throbbed with each step. “Can’t wait for today to be over” she sighed crabbily.

***
Applejack was struggling to stay awake as her ailing body ached and begged to lie down and rest. She hadn’t been this exhausted since last Applebuck season. She looked to the marketplace's clock, “Just...halv’an hour t’go” she said to herself.
Literally sick and tired, she splayed the front half of herself onto the counter in defeat, “What’s the point?” she found herself entertaining the notion of generous self-pity and hopelessness.
“Now, come on, Applejack” she reasoned to herself hysterically “Jus’ another half hour an’ we’re home free! We’ll take a nice little nap and rest up over the weekend”
Her exhausted mind, found it less of a workout to focus on the negatives as the little voice on her shoulder rebutted, “eeyup, then come Monday, we’ll be right back where we started! And ya, jus’ know it’s going to be just as bad as this week has been!”
She pulled her hat down over her face letting out a long, shuddering, miserable groan.

“Applejack, are you ok?”

Applejack lethargically tilted her hat so she could peek at who had come to intrude on session of self-pity.
Her heart lurched a little at the sight of Pinkie Pie’s puppy-eyed concern.
She breathed deeply as she scooped herself up off the counter, “Yeah, I’m fine” she grimaced, the blood rushing to her already throbbing head.
“Are you sure? You don’t look too well?” Pinkie Pie replied as her friend struggled to keep from keeling over.

“I told y’all: I’m fine!” she asserted cantankerously.

Pinkie flinched. “I just want to know what’s up?” she replied leaning back towards her friend. “You seem a little overworked-- I understand if you don’t want to talk about it...”

Applejack looked down and sighed remorsefully. “I, don’t know, Pinkie Pie” she scrunched her face and took off her hat, placing it on the counter. She put a hoof to her blocked sinuses. “Lately, with the bats, the treats, the trees, Apple Bloom-- it’s all just been—so...exhausting!” she confessed, dropping herself down to sit on the ground.
Her eyes glazed over staring at the dirt as she sullenly stroked her mane “The same old thing day after day, after day...” She shook her head gently, “Now I know how it goes! Ya gotta push on through the bad seasons, to truly enjoy the good ones-- no use cryin’ over spilled milk, after all.” She stopped stroking her mane and sighed “And I know a good season will come, in due time-- but, until then...” she looked up to Pinkie with desperate, sleep-hungry, bloodshot eyes.
She was in every sense: exhausted.

Pinkie Pie simply hugged her friend.

She kept a friendly foreleg around Applejack's shoulders, “Everyday might not be good” she looked Applejack in the eye with a gentle and sympathetic smile “...but there’s something good in everyday.”

Applejack took a moment to admire her friend’s wisdom.
Applejack's week had been rough and undesirable, but as she turned the words over in her mind, she realised that the days all had their moments: the quiet one-on-ones she got to have with her brother in the mornings, the family of newborn ducklings that had distracted her from her baking, the warm rays of the magnificent sunrise massaging her sickly skin as she set out to work, and of course, the reprieves Pinkie had given her.
“Thanks, Pinkie—for everything" Applejack sniffed sickly "...I needed to hear that.”
Applejack smiled gratefully at her kaleidoscopic friend, “I’ve just been run so ragged lately-- and, nothing seemed to be goin’ ma way” she flustered sheepishly “an—uh, I just—well -- ”

“What are friends are for!?” Pinkie Pie beamed humbly. “Now, come on! Let’s go see Fluttershy, see if she can’t give those delinquent bats: The Stare!”

Applejack giggled as she put her hat back on and turned to face Pinkie with a warm grin, “I’d like that, Pinkie Pie. 'I really would.”
Pinkie grinned back, before bubbling over with giggles. Applejack wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation or just Pinkie’s infectious joy, but sure enough, she dissolved into laughter as well.
In the amber glow of the evening's light, the pair made their way to Fluttershy’s cottage, giggling at nothing and everything as they went.

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed the story and I also hope you'll enjoy my other works too =)

Rarity Gets Mugged
Lyra's Pants
Pinkie's Sweet Tooth