Apples to the Corps.
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The Applemancer's Apprentice

Apples to the Corps.

"Why, Miss Scootaloo!" Apple Bloom bats her eyelashes and tips a brown stetson that's four sizes too big for her red head. "Yer lookin' mighty agreeable this evenin'."

"Mmmff..." Across the green lawn from her, an orange filly in a pink dress squirms and frowns. "Thanks. Apple Bloom. You're too kind. N'stuff."

"Are y'all out'n'about, doin' groceries?" Apple Bloom trots up, smiling wide. The hat slumps down and she fusses with it, tilting the article back so she can see again. "Reckon I can lend ya a kindly hoof with that!"

"Why. I do declare." Scootaloo drones. "What ever would I do without the kindness of strangers. Apple Bloom. You are so polite. And helpful."

"Well, it's my pleasure, ma'am," Apple Bloom bows again. "Allow me to assist you while you go to the market."

"Psssst!" A voice hisses from nearby. "Scootaloo! You're not curtseying enough!"

Scootaloo growls, turning to frown over her ruffled shoulder. "Why do I have to curtsey?" She points a hoof at Apple Bloom. "She's the one trying to get the cutie mark!"

"Yeah! But it takes the two of you to make this scene work!" Sweetie Belle scoots up, grasping a clipboard draped over with scribbled notes. Her eyes dart across the pages. "If Apple Bloom's gonna be helpful and debonair, then you've gotta have a reason for her to be of assistance!"

"Unnnngh..."

"Come on, girls, we planned this!" Sweetie Belle's voice cracks.

"You mean you planned this!" Scootaloo growls. "The whole idea was stupid from the start! And this dress itches!"

"No it does not!" Sweetie Belle frowns in response, hugging the clipboard tight, pale cheeks puffy. "My sister made it!"

"If y'all dun mind, I'd really like to get this over with," Apple Bloom says. She turns and glances anxiously across Apple Family Acres, her amber eyes locked on the second story bedroom window. "Rarity might have given us the dress, but I didn't get no permission for this here hat."

"Okay. Okay." Sweetie Belle flips a page and squints her eyes at the words. "Alright, next... the stallion—Apple Bloom, that's you—kindly takes the lady's hoof. Oooh! But don't forget to ask for permission first!" She looks up, smiling. "Make it super sweet and neighborly, mmmmkay?"

"Ahem." Apple Bloom bows and extends a leg. "Yer hoof, milady?"

"Nnnnnghhhhhhh..." Scootaloo rolls her eyes again.

Applejack's hat slumps over Apple Bloom's brow, and she tilts it back again. "Scoots! Dag nabbit! C'mon!"

With a sigh, Scootaloo does a dinky curtsey and takes Apple Bloom's hoof.

"Much obliged." Apple Bloom tilts the hat again. "Shall we skedaddle on to the general store?"

"Meh. Whatever."

"Okay! Good!" Sweetie Belle trots over. "Next, Apple Bloom, you gotta help Scootaloo over the deep puddle in the road."

"Huh?" Scootaloo blinks.

"Erm... Sweetie Belle?" Apple Bloom squints at her friend. "What puddle?"

"You know... the deep one that the lady can't cross on her own without getting mud splotches all over Rarity's pretty pink dress!"

"There's no puddle, Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo declares, eyes like daggers.

"Oh! Uhm..." Sweetie Belle taps her chin in thought, then smiles wide. "No sweat!" She drops the clipboard and gallops towards the barn. "Be right back!"

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo crane their necks to stare, their hooves joined the entire time.

Finally, Sweetie Belle backtrots into proximity, dragging a hose with her mouth. "Mmmmfff... ptooie!" She grasps the nozzle of the thing, twists it, then sprays a fountain of water over the exposed dirt behind the two fillies. Once a rippling puddle of liquid has formed, she twists the nozzle again, wipes her brow, and points straight into the drink. "Okay! Now, Apple Bloom, lay out your coat so that the lady can cross! There's a good boy!"

"Uhhhhh..." Apple Bloom cocks her head to the side. "What coat?"

Sweetie Belle blinks. Then she blinks again. "Y'know... the coat! You place it over the puddle so Scootaloo can trot over the water without getting wet!"

"But I ain't got no coat!"

"You mean..." Sweetie Belle leans back, flabbergasted. "You didn't borrow Big Mac's working coat for our latest crusade?"

"H-huh?!" Apple Bloom grimaces. "Sweetie Belle, I don't even know where Big Mac even keeps his coat! And even if I did—" Applejack's hat falls forward and she tilts it back again. "—I sure as heck wouldn't be layin' it across no puddles for nopony! I dun care how pretty and ladylike they could be!"

"Huh... well, then..." Sweetie Belle stares deep into the mud. She focuses, contemplates, philosophizes. Finally, she smiles at the other Crusaders. "Maybe one of Granny Smith's bonnets will do?!"

"Sweetie Belle, just forget it," Apple Bloom grunts, yanking Applejack's hat off. "I dun think any of us has got what it takes to earn a cutie mark in bein' gentlecoltly."

"Well... it c-could happen, right?" Sweetie Belle gulps, fiddling with her clipboard. "I mean, we've just about tried everything else!"

"Sweetie, I ain't even a colt!" Apple Bloom declares. "None of us are! Havin' a talent in bein' gentle is one thang, but this is just askin' too much! I mean, who's cotton-pickin' idea was this anyways?"

"I've got an even better question!" Scootaloo practically snarls, fighting with the laced sleeves of her gown. "How come I'm the one who has to be in a prissy dress?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sweetie Belle shrugs. "You're girlier!"

"I am?" Scootaloo blinks.

"She is?" Apple Bloom adds.

"Yeah! I mean..." Sweetie Belle points at Scootaloo's head, fumbles, then motions over her own scalp. "Her mane is—like—fwoofier! Y'know?"

Scootaloo frowns. "If we're judging by fwoofiness, shouldn't you be the one dressed like a lady in this scene?"

"Nuh huh!" Sweetie Belle shakes her head. "Rarity would kill me if I wore her old priceless hoof-stitched cute-ceañera gown!"

"Huh?! Wh-what?!" Scootaloo instantly pales, white as a sheet. She stands back on her rear haunches, suddenly afraid to touch the ground, the skirts, or anything. "Sweetie Belllllle...!"

"Don't panic! It's okay! Honest!" Sweetie Belle trots over. "Here, I can even help you out of it—"

"No. No thank you!" Scootaloo waves a hoof, then proceeds to tip-trot her way delicately into the nearby barn. "I'm gonna slip out of this darn thing before I accidentally sneeze and burst it to bits! The last thing I need is to start a feud between my family and Rarity's."

"Careful!" Sweetie Belle frantically scampers after her. "Don't pop any of the buttons loose! A pretty young foal could accidentally choke on those things! Trust me!"

"Have fun with that, y'all," Apple Bloom says. "I'm... uh... gonna slip back into Applejack's room and drop this here hat by her bedside." She winces slightly, throwing the farm house's second story another nervous glance. "She's about done with her nap, and I can't have her wakin' up and noticin' that her favorite hat is gone."

"Okay, Apple Bloom!" Sweetie Belle's voice calls out from inside the barn. "Don't worry about the cutie mark, though! There's always Plan B!"

"Ya mean where we get hoofballs on our flanks by makin' Winona do arena battles with every other dog in town?" When there's no immediate response, the farm filly rolls her eyes and trots off for the house, balancing the hat on her fluffy head. "A cutie mark in bein' gentlecoltly. Hmmmf... Can't believe I nearly fell for that hogwash." Her muzzle scrunches. "I dun even know a colt who's 'gentle!' I mean... do I?" She squints up at the sky, and soon a dumb smile crosses her yellow face. "Well... there is Rumble." A dreamy sigh. "Heeeeeeee... Rumble—"

The hat slumps over her face again.

"Mmmmf! Land's sakes!" Apple Bloom nearly trips, fumbles, and finally uprights herself again. She takes a while lifting the hat off her skull this time, almost as if there's a vacuum effect that's sucking her cranium inside. At last, she lifts the article completely off. Panting breaths issue from her mouth while her mane settles. "Well, that was... different."

The filly casually looks beneath the lid of the stetson, and that's when an enormous, squeaking gasp escapes her lips.

"Oh no! The tag! Where did the tag go?!" Panicking slightly, the pony reaches her hoof forward and fishes around the inside of the hat's brim. "I could have sworn there was a tag around here somewhere! Wasn't there?! Did it come off during all of that needless gentlecoltin'? Oh, applesauce! My big sis is gonna kill me! She's gonna—"

Vrommmmmm! A red beam of light emanates from around the outer lid of the hat. Shortly thereafter, a digitized voice crackles through the country air: "APPLESAUCE. PASSWORD ACCEPTED."

"Huh?!" Apple Bloom leans back, doing a double-take. "What the? Say..." She squints suddenly, peering deep into the dark black recesses of the hat. "Just where are the insides of this thang anyway?" She reaches her hoof into the hat... and reaches and reaches and reaches some more. To her numb shock, the brim of the hat is up to her elbow, but somehow she is impossibly stretching her leg through the thing. "What."

VROMMMMM! The lid glows again. "INCOMING MESSAGE. PRIORITY ONE. PYRUS AGENCY INFILTRATION DETECTED. APPLEMANCER'S INTERCESSION REQUESTED IMMEDIATELY."

"What." Apple Bloom's pupils shrink inside the middle of two wide saucers, especially now that the red glow of the hat has intensified. All of the sudden, gravity shifts. Apple Bloom falls forward and inside the hat, where a deep black void waits. "What."

After several loopty seconds, Apple Bloom plops down onto a plush pilot's chair. Two hoof consoles flicker to life on either side of her.

"WHAT."

Diiiing!

A panoramic array of monitors flicker to life, displaying camera feeds from all over Equestria. A three dimensional map zeroes in on Ponyville before illuminating the downtown district with strobing red markers. Exclamation points zoom across the plasma screens, and soon a robotic arm has extended from the mainframe, projecting a giant holographic apple right in front of Apple Bloom's gawking muzzle.

"WHAT."

"Scrkkkkk!" A rippling sound wave flashes to life across the bottom half of the floating apple, moving like a mouth in sync with the audio broadcast. "Agent Jacks! Thank the Cosmic Goddess we've made contact with you at last! This is a moment of grave urgency! The pre-industrialized planetoid that you've been stationed on is in danger! As a secret member of the Apple Galactic Guardian Corps, it is imperative that you intervene right away! This is no time for undercover negotiations or secret duck blind espionage! The ponies of Apple Sector 1679 need you out in the field and they need you right now! This is a job for none other than the Applemancer!"

"Uhhhhhhhh..." Apple Bloom shrinks back into the plush cushions of the seat, her body palpitating. Wild frightened eyes dart left, right, up, down. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... uhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!"

"What is the matter, Agent Jacks?! Oh no! Please don't let this mean that the evil zombifying juice from the Pyrus Agents' ovipositors have taken over your mind and compromised your security, thus causing you to abandon all of the Galactic Apple Tenets that you've so bravely sworn to uphold in any apple crisis or apple emergency!"

"Hello? Uhm..." Apple Bloom bites her lip, whimpering slightly. "I-I think I may have fallen into the wrong hat!"

"Agent Jacks! Agent Jacks! Please, respond!"

"Wait..." The filly leans forward, blinking. "Are... are y'all askin' for Applejack?"

The holographic apple fluctuates with fuchsia joy. "Oh! By Andromeda's Dust Trail! Agent Jacks, you live! Excelsior! Here's the mission briefing!"

"No! No! NO!" Apple Bloom furiously waves her hooves. "I'm not—"

FL-FLASH! The hologram magnifies the computer monitor's map of central Ponyville. The image zooms in on the street, while two apple-shaped icons highlight a pair of figures situated around an outdoor cafe.

"Agent Jacks! Our upper atmospheric satellites have detected the signatures of two pyrusmorphs! They are posing as two regular ponies under your protection! I think you'll know precisely who."

"No! I don't!" Apple Bloom yelps. "I don't know anypony! I just—"

"Initiate Applemancer protocol! Engage the pyrusmorphs! Eliminate all threats by any means necessary! Wipe out both physical and mental traces of your righteous intervention! And, above all, ensure the safety of all civilians! Collateral damage must be kept at a minimum!"

"But I-I don't even know what 'cola adderall damage' means!" Apple Bloom looks all around the gigantic cockpit. "Helllllloooo? Can somepony help me out of this here hat?!"

Beep! Boop! Her fetlocks brush over glowing hoof consoles.

"Ohhhh Applesauce—" The filly immediately gasps, slapping two hooves over her big fat muzzle.

But it's far too late. VROMMMMM! The entire cockpit glows. "PASSWORD ACCEPTED. INITIATING APPLEMANCER PROTOCOL!"

"No!" Apple Bloom cries, teeth rattling as the entire compartment shakes and rumbles around her. "Please! Don't 'ignus eight apple manson protocol!' I didn't mean it! Honest! That's my least favorite protocol!"

"So long and Goddess Speed, Agent Jacks!" The floating fruit flickers with digital vigor. "You are the pride of the A.G.G.C.! May the Apple be with you!"

"No! I have enough apples as it is! Stop this crazy thing, ya rusty varmint!" Apple Bloom angrily kicks the computer console.

BEEEP! A green light strobes. "TRANSFORMATION INITIATED!"

Apple Bloom's ears droop. "Awwwwwwwww snap—" FWUMP! A safety harness clasps over her—only it doesn't. The thing is built for an adult pony, and the filly rattles around loosely. "Guu-uu-uu-uu-uuuh!" A red-tinted visor lowers above her face. "Oh, hello."

Outside, Applejack hat lifts up off the dirt floor like a demon-possessed saucer.

VROMMM-VROMMM-VROMMM-VROMMM!

Its wide brim strobes faster, faster, fasterfasterfasterfaster—!!!—until a bright pulse of cosmic energy billows out from underneath. With a brilliant flash of translucent apples, the thing sprouts a metallic spine, a double-pair of legs, and a lashing tail made out of brimming electrical energy. At last, a pair of glowing green eyes completes the look, and a steaming apple horse golem stands in the middle of the farm. The resonating heat causes the nearby blades of grass to curl like melted wax. Then—with a deathly neighing sound—the automaton thrashes its forward legs, fires rocket exhaust out of its fetlocks, and zooms east over the orchards.

Meanwhile...

In the quiet, serene center of downtown Ponyville...

Two mares sit at an outdoor cafe table, ordering their food. They fold up their menus, hand it to the waiter, and proceed to stare into each other's eyes.

"Mmmmmmm... you are such a good friend, my friend," drips Lyra.

"Mmmm-hmmm-hmmm-hmmm..." Bon Bon coos in return. "But you are such a better friend, best friend."

"One cannot be better than that which is best," Lyra sing-songs. "It makes no grammatical or logical sense."

"It helps to have a basic grasp of elementary hyperbole," Bon Bon purrs. "Especially when dealing with—" Her head snaps to the side, eyes crossing. "—crkkkk.ignorantwaterymeatbags.crkkkk—" Her head snaps back into a perfect smile. "—like these subjects all around us."

"Shhhh..." Lyra bites her lip, glancing nervously over her shoulder. "...you really need to work on that, she-who-would-be-called Bon Bon. The ponies of this planet will see right through you."

"I do apologize—crkkkk.myamorousfriendwithabirthcanal.crkkkk—but this speech modulation gland has taken my hormones a great deal to get used to."

"It's alright, darling." Lyra reaches across and caresses Bon Bon's cheek. "You can let slip all of the speech impediments you want." She adds with a wink. "Tonight in bed."

"Heeheehee!" Bon Bon blushes, waving a hoof. "Oh Lyra, you are so silly—crkkkk.beforemoistcopulationwemustregenerate.crkkkk!"

"Awwww..." Lyra pouts. "Can't we do both at once?"

THUDDDDD! The Applemancer golem slams through a two-story apartment across the street. Ponies shriek, galloping everywhere and flailing in horror. The restaurant empties in seconds from terrified ponies evacuating.

Gasping, Lyra and Bon Bon stand up.

"The Applemancer!" Lyra gnashes her teeth. "Those A.G.G.C. scum have found us!"

Bon Bon jerks in place. "CRKKKK—.fecalmatterbelongingtoasteroidslugs.CRKKKK!" She grimaces, her head even again. "I mean... crud!"

Inside the golem's hat, the tiny pilot is a tiny panting mess.

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" She wheezes and whimpers. With little hops, she catches glimpses through the red visor at two mares glaring at her from across the street. "Ohhhhh! How do you even pilot this thing?"

"BEEP! ENGAGE AUTOPILOT???"

Apple Bloom blinks, one ear twitching. Then the other.

"Uhhhh..."

"Why is it simply standing there?" Lyra remarks.

Bon Bon's nostrils flare. "Remember, Lyra, we have seen this—scrkkkk.twobitspacewhore.scrkkkk—Agent Jacks in action. She is the finest Guardian the Apple Corps has. A veritable freckled princess of Applemancers!"

"I know..." Lyra sighs. "So I suppose we can no longer use our disguises. What a shame." She turns towards Bon Bon with a limp smile. "Well, my love, I suppose good things can't last forever."

"Affirmative." Bon Bon leans in to nuzzle her. "We will just have to share our affections in the—scrkkkk.FRUITAFTERLIFE!"

"On three..." Lyra grabs her by the hoof and both mares frown up at the robot. "One... two... threeee-scrkkk-hrkkkkkkk!"

"Raaughlaaaughllraughhhll!" Bon Bon foams at the mouth.

"HRAAAA-AAA-ARKKKKK-SKKKKT-SKKKT-KKKT-KKKT!" Lyra's body balloons outward, bursting at the seams. Her eyes roll back, congealing to green goo.

Soon hers and Bon Bon's skin have completely melted away, exposing claws, jagged verterbral spines, and no small amount of razor sharp phallic mutations from every insectoid joint imaginable.

Deep inside the hat, Apple Bloom shrinks away from the console. She watches with a pale expression as the computer broadcasts an image of two semi-arthropodic abominations with drooling mandibles, pulsating husks, and whip-like tails armed with glistening keratin.

But... worst of all...

Their exoskeletons are see-through... and where there should be internal organs, all the two creatures have is pears... lots and lots of pears.

"BEEP! ENGAGE AUTOPILOT???"

Apple Bloom curls up into a little ball, shivering.

"... ... ... ... ... ...applesauce?"

VROMMMMMM! "AUTOPILOT ENGAGED! INITIATING COMBAT IN T-MINUS FIVE... ... FOUR... THREE..."

Green lasers shoot out from the Applemancer golem's eyes, burning a red-hot path towards the cafe. The patio explodes in a brilliant fireball.

Unaffected, the two pyrusmorphs leap through the flames, perching on opposite sides of the quadruped android.

"PEARSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" One claws all over the brim of the stetson.

"PEARSSSSS-SSSKKKK-SKKKKTT!" The other bites hard over the golem's metal flank.

The robot lets loose a digital whinny before savagely bucking the biting pyrusmorph off of it.

The alien monstrosity goes flying through a hay cart, smashing it to brittle pieces. Ponies run every which way—screaming—as it stands straight up, opens its jaws wide, and launches flaming pears in the guardian's direction. PFTOOM! PFTOOM! PFTOOM!

The robot spins, deflects two of the projectiles with its lightning-whip-tail, then twirls again so that the other pyrusmorph's spine is impacted by the last burning fruit.

"SKREEEEEEE!" the beast skree's, before secreting two acidic pears that it then shoves straight into the automaton's green glowing eyes.

"Ooomf! Augh!" Apple Bloom jolts and jostles inside the shaking cockpit.

"WARNING! WARNING! PEAR CORROSION APPROACHING CRITICAL LEVELS!"

"Then do somethin' about it!" Apple Bloom whimpers. "Beat up them bad guys n'stuff!"

"PYRUSMORPHS ARE UTILIZING INCALCULABLY ERRATIC TACTICS!"

"Then beat 'em up harder, ya dang talkin' washing machine—!" Apple Bloom yelps as she's flung forward. "Whoah—!"

WHURRRRRR! The golem headbutts the acid-spewing pyrusmorph. Then, as it reels, the robot grabs the creature around its translucent wasp-waist.

The two struggle and wrestle in the middle of the street, shattering fences, knocking over trees, and dragging huge trenches through the earth.

"SKREEEEE!" The pyrus morph wriggles halfway out of the guardian's grip. It leers before the golem's eyes, then opens its jaw wide. A phallic tongue sticks out with a razor-toothed pear chomping at the end of it. "PEARRRSSSSSKKKKT!"

Scrkk-crkkkk-stkkkttt! Apple Bloom sees the ravenous pear-tongue as it lunges closer and closer towards the viewscreen.

"Eeeeeeughhh!" Grimacing, she kicks at the computer console. "Finish the dang scrap already!"

VROMMMM! "COMMENCING WITH SMACKDOWN.EXE!"

"Commencin' with what-now?"

CL-CLAMP! The left rear fetlocks of the android extend steel barbs that embed deep into the soil. CLAMP! Followed by the right, anchoring the mobile machine into place. Gusts of steam vent from the robot's midsection as it bends impossibly backward, still gripping the insectoid pear-beast by its waist.

"HRESSHAAAA!" the pyrusmorph hresha's in protest. Unbeknownst to the creature, it's being flung violently towards its partner.

The other alien shrieks before clambering in futility to dash out of the way.

But it's far too late. With the mighty force of a freckled goddess, the golem suplexes one beast into the other. WHUDDDD! The two cause the front of a hotel to cave-in, and soon both monsters have been reduced to squirming, bleeding limbs. They vomit and defecate rotten pears in every direction until an acidic pool has begun to consume their own exoskeletons.

VROMMMM!

But the Applemancer's robot isn't done.

"ARMING THE APPLE LANCE!"

SCHIIIIIING! Part of the automaton's spine pops loose, forming a gigantic spear. The robot spins around, twirls the pole, then grips it in two front hooves with the barbed end facing down.

"FOR GALACTIC APPLE JUSTICCCCE!"

The robot lifts up high with the aid of apple rockets. The air above Ponyville is split by a high-pitched scream—that may or may not belong to an adrenalized little filly. Then—with a crack of righteous thunder—the golem comes straight down, plunging its full weight through the lance, impaling both pyrusmorphs ("PEARRRSS-GURKKK!") in a single blow.

POWWWWW!

There is a brief scream, and then both aliens burst into inert ash and silicon... because why not.

Then, at last, all is quiet.

Apple Bloom slumps forward in the cockpit seat, heaving, panting.

She looks up, tired eyes peering over the chair's "safety" harness.

The computer screens display a pile of black dust where the pyrusmorphs used to be.

With a breath of relief, Apple Bloom leans back. "Ohhhhhhh Celestia..."

Then, right at that moment, a familiar... sisterly voice drawls from outside the vehicle completely.

"Disengage Applemancer Protocol. Password: Applesauce. Authority: Agent Jacks of Apple Sector 1679 of the Apple Galactic Guardian Corps. Initiate lockdown procedure. End of line."

VROMMMMM! "AFFIRMATIVE, AGENT JACKS. INITIATING LOCKDOWN!"

"H-huh?!" Apple Bloom blinks. The computer monitors vanish, and the seat falls out from underneath her. "OH CELESTIA!" She flails, falls...

...and flies out the hat with a splash of translucent apples.

"Ooomf!" She lands hard on the floor, wincing. Before she can even look up—"Whoah!"—she's yanked up by a strong, orange hoof.

"... ... ..." Applejack squints into the sunlight, a tight, stern expression carved over her freckled face. She twirls the hat with expert precision and slaps it over her blonde head. Hisssssssss!—steam vents out from all sides while a dim red glow fades away.

By now, the streets of Ponyville has filled with a nervous commotion. Anxious ponies trot back into the downtown district, shivering, gawking at the rubble-strewn intersection.

Applejack turns around, staring blankly at the ponies. Thwkk! She flicks open a pair of black shades out of nowhere and slaps them over Apple Bloom's eyes.

"Applejack?!" Apple Bloom squirms. "What—?" A strong hoof grips her shoulder.

Thwkkk! Applejack produces a bigger pair of shades and puts them over her own eyes. "Ahem..." She holds up a glistening red fruit. "Everypony... look into the apple."

The crowd pivots and looks, staring dumbly.

FLASSSSSSH!!!!!

Within seconds, they are all... blinking dumbly.

"Hmmmf..." Applejack lowers the apple, then lowers her shades. "Nothin' to worry 'bout, y'all! The coast is clear! The cyclone made its way through the town and won't hurt anypony no more!"

"... ... ..." The crowd exchanges blank expressions, then stares back at Applejack.

Applejack stares back. She leans her head forward, clearing her throat yet again. "The... uh... cyclone that just tore its breezy way through this here district of Ponyville?"

More silence.

At last, the ponies smile and nod at one another.

"Oh!"

"Oh yeah!"

"Right!"

"Whew, that was a close one!"

"Crazy weather!"

"Heh heh! Pegasi! Am I right?"

Meanwhile, Apple Bloom lowers her goggles, muzzle agape. "Wait... they... that... it... the apple..."

"And if y'all smell pears..." Applejack forces the filly around and marches the two of them west, back home. "...that's 'cuz the cyclone tore through the produce section of the marketplace! All the fresh pears are smashed to bits!" She grumbles out the side of her muzzle. "As they should be."

The two sisters rush out of town while the remaining citizens gather together to clean up the damage.

Apple Bloom sits at the kitchen room table of their home, her legs dangling off her chair.

After much liberal lip-biting, she finally summons the courage to look up.

Across from her, Applejack sits down. She pulls out a tall bottle of apple cider and starts pouring... pouring... pouring into a glass.

The lone brown stetson rests on the table between them.

Apple Bloom stares up at her older sister.

Applejack pours... pours... pauses... ... ... then looks across the table at the little filly.

Apple Bloom blinks.

Applejack's nostrils flare... and she pours some more. At last, she places the bottle away, then takes a long... long... long swig of the cider.

Apple Bloom watches, silent as stone.

The room is dead quiet, save for the glugging sounds emanating from the farm mare's gullet.

At last, after a full long drunk minute.

"Ahhhhhh..." Applejack brings the glass down onto the tabletop with a hard thump. She sits there, resting, her eyes closed tensely shut. "... ... ..." A stifled belch, and she shuffles out of the chair with a scraping sound. Next thing Apple Bloom knows, Applejack is slapping four golden tickets onto the filly's side of the table. Th-Thrump! "Buck it. I'm takin' you and yer friends to Whinny World."

"...!!!!!" Apple Bloom almost falls out of her seat. "Whinny World?!?" She grins so wide that her jaw nearly pops out of her skull. "Omigoshomigoshomigosh!" With a delighted squeal, the filly forgets all about the hat—or that day, even—and she scampers off with an extra bounce to her step. "Wow, I can't wait to tell Scoots and Sweetie Belle! AJ, you're the best sister ever!"

As the screen door opens and slaps shut, Applejack slouches back in her seat. She smiles lazily, sliding the hat over her eyes while kicking her rear hooves onto the table's edge.

"Mmmmmmmhmm."

Three Days Later...

"Sweetie Belllllle!" Rarity's voice travels up the second floor of the Carousel Boutique and wafts into Sweetie Belle's room. "You'd better hurry up! It's nearly sunrise and Applejack's promised to take you and your friends to Whinny World today!"

"I know, Rarity! That's why I'm still up here!" Sweetie Belle poses before the mirror of her vanity, applying silver blue eyeshadow. "I wanna look my most magical!"

An airy laugh echoes across the hall, followed by Rarity's amused voice: "Ah well. Fillies will be fillies!"

Sweetie Belle snickers evilly, all the while smiling at her reflection. "Then I hope you don't mind your little filly sister borrowing your 'precious' eyeshadow." She applies the last few touches, then flutters her eyelids, pleased with the sky-colored dust casting a subtle glimmer across her face. "Hmmmmm-heeheehee... now who is best and most marketable princess?"

Just then, the applied eyeshadow glows with ethereal magic.

Sweetie Belle leans back from the mirror, ears drooping. "What."

TING! The eyeshadow strobes in time with a magical, disembodied voice: "AGENT RARE! THE EMPIRE OF ELEGANCE NEEDS YOUR EXPERTISE TO DISPOSE OF A MOST GARISH THREAT TO THE TRANS-DIMENSIONAL PETTICOAT ALLIANCE!"

A sparkly column of magical smoke surrounds Sweetie Belle like pixie dust.

"What."

"WE SHAN'T TARRY! TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE, AND THE MORTALS OF UNIVERSE DELTA, WHOM YOU'VE SWORN TO PROTECT, NEED THE DRESSMANCER'S IMMEDIATE HELP!"

And—with the sound of chiming bells—the gasping filly is whisked away through an otherworldly portal.

"WHAT—"