There were few ponies not named Apple who had seen Applejack’s morning face. The roosters were still crowing and, far away, Celestia was still snoring, when Applejack stumbled through the screen door of Sugarcube Corner and plodded up to the counter to add Pinkie Pie to their number.
“Hi, Applejack!” Pinkie said, bouncing up to the counter. “I had a counter-clockwise double-Axel tail twitch that told me you were coming! Did you come all the way from Sweet Apple Acres for one of my delicious new flugleberry-cinammon-raisin gobstoppers that I invented last night in my sleep?”
“No, Pinkie,” Applejack said.
“Well, did you come all the way from Sweet Apple Acres because you had a sudden premonition that it would rain chocolate rain today and you wanted to warn me so I could get in my swimsuit and put out an inflatable swimming pool?”
“No, Pinkie,” Applejack said.
“Hmm.” Pinkie scratched her chin. “Oooh! I know! Did you come all the way from Sweet Apple Acres to find out why your barn is upside-down?”
“Yes, Pinkie,” Applejack said.
“But Applejack, don’t you remember you said I could throw a party in your barn this afternoon?”
“Ah confess Ah did,” Applejack said. “But Ah expected the barn would stay upright at least until the party started.”
“Don’t be silly! Then all the water would run out!”
Applejack blinked.
“Pinkie. Is my barn upside-down and full of water?”
“Not yet!” Pinkie said.
Applejack blinked again. Her mind tried to cope with Pinkie at too-darn-early o’clock. Maybe that was why she said, “Wouldn’t it be easier to just take off the roof?”
Pinkie tilted her head. “Huh?”
“Ah mean, it’s a barn.” With this undeniable truth, Applejack felt her argument gain a little momentum, and decided to run with it. “It ain’t designed to be upside-down. And water’s heavy. Now, granted, you got it balanced and not collapsed right now, but are you sure it’ll stay that way when you turn the thing into a jumbo-sized elevated swimmin’ hole?”
“I’m not turning it into a swimming hole!” Pinkie leapt onto the counter and reared up, pointing a forehoof at the heavens. The rising sun shone through the front windows, painting her in golden light. “I’m turning it into the ultimate apple-bobbing experience!” She hopped back down, pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, and started wiping down the countertop, adding, “Service mark, all rights reserved, patent pending, some restrictions apply, cash value one one-hundredth of a cent.”
Applejack had a nice, long blink before shaking herself back to alertness. “Pinkie, you know how they say it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission?”
Pinkie nodded. “Uh huh.”
“They’re full o’ horseapples,” said Applejack. “Ah mean, even if you didn’t crush my barn with water weight or make it tip over, it ain’t exactly watertight. There’s a door.” She narrowed her eyes, though given their already half-lidded state, this left them nearly shut. “And where exactly were you plannin’ on gettin’ the apples for this ‘ultimate apple-bobbin’ experience’?”
“Well…” Pinkie glanced at the Corner’s kitchen. “Hey, I think the bagels just said that Mrs. Cake is done gotta go nice seeing you—“ She tried to zip off in midsentence. Instead, she bounced off of Applejack like a rubber band off of a marble column.
Pinkie blinked up at Applejack. “Whoa. Not bad. Didn’t see you move.”
Applejack helped Pinkie back to her hooves, then gave her a bleary but stern look. “Like Ah said, it’s just better to ask permission. You seem real intent on makin’ this happen, and Mac says we’re doin’ well enough that you can have the apples. Ah just don’t wanna have to raise a new barn so soon after giant migratory termites ate the last one.”
Pinkie tilted her head. “I thought you tore down the old barn because the support beams were developing dry rot.”
Applejack nodded. “Right. What did Ah say?”
“Basically the same thing.” Pinkie leaned in close. “So, favoritest maybe-cousin of mine, can I turn your barn into the,” she stabbed a forehoof skyward, “ultimate apple-bobbing experience!?”
“With help from us Apples, sure,” Applejack said with a smile.
Pinkie narrowed her eyes. “Pinkie Promise?”
Applejack yawned, chuckled, and went through the motions. “Sure. Pinkie Promise. Now, Ah know you got work, but so do Ah, and Ah need my barn back the way it’s supposed to be. How quick can you get it fixed?”
“In two shakes of a lamb’s tail!”
Applejack scowled. “Now you know how Lanolin feels about that.”
“A figurative lamb,” said Pinkie. “Or a laminated fig, though those don’t shake much.”
Applejack nodded. Made sense to her.
A few hours later, she was having second thoughts. ”Pinkie, Ah was barely awake enough to put one hoof in front o’ the others!”
“But you still Pinkie Promised!”
Applejack sighed and moved out to join Pinkie on the ranch’s front porch. “Ah know, but—“
“But nothing. You. Pinkie. Promised.” Pinkie poked a hoof into Applejack’s chest with every word. “I put the barn back right-side-up—“
Applejack quirked an eyebrow. “How’d you do that again?”
“Don’t change the subject. I put it right, and now I get to create the ultimate apple-bobbing experience with help from us Apples.” Pinkie scowled. “Or are you actually going to break this Pinkie Promise?” The earth began to shake, and Applejack felt rather than heard the next word.
WELL?
“Pinkie, Ah wanna keep that promise, but Ah don’t know if Ah can!” Applejack cried.
The tremors halted, but Pinkie still glowered at her. “Explain.”
Applejack adjusted her hat and frowned back. “First off, what the hay was that?”
Pinkie shrugged. “I know it isn’t much, but I never really got the knack for subsonics before I left home.” She resumed her scowl. “Back on topic. Explain.”
“Ah don’t know if you noticed, but Fall Finale’s in two weeks.”
Pinkie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Come on, AJ, since when have I ever forgotten a celebration?”
Applejack raised an eyebrow.
“My birthday doesn’t count. I don’t plan that party. Besides, of course I know Fall Finale is coming up. That’s the whole point of this party. I want fall to go out with a bob!”
“Well, we gotta get the farm ready for winter,” said Applejack. “That means cannin’, jammin’, wrappin’ th’ trees, makin’ sure th’ hogs’ll be warm enough… We ain’t got time to spare for this fool errand o’ yours, and we certainly can’t spare the barn either.”
“Sure we can.”
Both mares turned to see Apple Bloom, who continued, “The harvest is over. We can move the tools in the attic, and the apple cellar’s still got room in it after the last expansion. The cows may let us keep the hay in their barn, or you could just leave it out overnight. There ain’t no rain scheduled for tonight, and you can ask Fluttershy to make sure nothin’ nests in it.”
Pinkie grinned. “Apple Bloom, what are you doing to help winterize the farm?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “Not much. Helpin’ Granny with preserves, mostly.”
Pinkie and Applejack turned back to one another. Pinkie’s grin widened. “Applejack, I think we just found our chief of logistics.”
“There ain’t no ‘we’ here, Pinkie.” Applejack paused for a moment. “Well, there is, but it’s you an’ Bloom.”
Pinkie beamed and started vibrating slightly. Apple Bloom glanced at her and took a few steps back. “Uh, what’re we doin’?”
Pinkie leapt, leaving a trail of confetti. “We are turning that boring old barn into the best apple bob ever!”
“No, seriously, what’re we…” Apple Bloom trailed off. “Huh. Actually, Ah think that could work.”
Pinkie Pie and Apple Bloom stood in front of the barn, looking over a blueprint of it. Both were wearing hard hats from one of Pinkie’s emergency stockpiles. Crumpled pieces of paper surrounded the drawing board.
“How about hatches?” asked Apple Bloom. “A whole bunch of ‘em?”
Pinkie shook her head. “No, it’s no fun if you can’t see the whole apple-bobbing tub.”
“But if there ain’t some place for ponies to stand, then this is gonna be pegasus-only. Besides, where’re we gonna put the roof?”
Pinkie tapped her chin for a bit, then gasped. “I’ve got it!” She sketched out a series of lines across the roof of the blueprint.
Apple Bloom tilted her head. “So…”
Pinkie beamed. “It’ll be like a pirate ship!”
“We’ll still probably need pegasi for gettin’ other ponies in place, but after that…” Apple Bloom nodded. “Yeah, secure ‘em in the rope harnesses, hook up some pulleys, put in some kinda counterweight system, and ponies’d be able to control their altitude real simple-like.” She frowned. “But that still don’t solve the roof problem.”
Pinkie bit her lower lip. “Yeah, it doesn’t.”
“It ain’t like makin’ the place watertight. That’s just sealin’ cracks. But Ah just don’ see what to do with that thing.” Apple Bloom’s head darted up, eyes unfocused. “Unless…”
“Unless?”
Apple Bloom flipped over the blueprint and started writing out equations. “Tensile strength of materials. Cost per pound. The ol’ forge should still have somethin’ useful in it. Can the wood handle the resultin’ torque? Not normally, no, but add in the good ol’ earth pony force multiplier…” Apple Bloom turned to Pinkie, a mad gleam in her eye and on her flanks. “Hinges.”
Pinkie tilted her head. “Hinges?”
“Hinges.”
”So,” said Twilight, taking in the scene. The barn’s roof laid open like a book’s covers, and a rope lattice suspended dozens of ponies above the apple-filled building. Splashing and cheers resounded across the farmstead as the sun set, and pegasi were already positioning specially made, cloud-hung firefly lamps over the barn.
“So,” said Applejack.
“Early morning Pinkie Promise?”
Applejack sighed. “Eeyup. Almost broke one. Wouldn’t do to risk another.”
“Well, some good came of it.” Twilight nodded towards the Crusaders. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were grinning like madmares, while Apple Bloom was hopping around like a tiny yellow Pinkie Pie. On her flank was a slide rule with an apple blossom for a cursor.
Applejack couldn’t help but smile. “You think Pinkie knew that’d happen?”
Twilight shrugged her wings. “This is Pinkie Pie we’re talking about. Every time I try to make a predictive model of her behavior, it’s less accurate than guessing.”
“So you don’t know.”
Twilight turned to Applejack. “Isn’t that what I said?”
“Ah suppose it is.” Applejack sighed. “At least now those three’ll settle down some.”
“Cutie Mark Crusader Siege Engineers! YAY!”
Both mares’ eyes bugged out, and they galloped towards the fillies.
Author's Note
As we've known since Season 1, Applejack is a silly pony when she isn't fully awake.
Subsonic resonance is an important part of rock farming. Maud can contact a pony as long they're both on the same tectonic plate.
Fall Finale is, naturally, the precursor to Winter Wrap-Up. It even has the same rhythm, so the song can use the same tune. (And there's obviously a song.)
Thanks go to Bad Horse for the intriguing prompt. I probably didn't take this where he expected—heck, I didn't take it where I expected at first—but it was very fun. It's always nice when an idea goes Athenean, springing out of my head fully formed.
