“Applejack, you got three minutes! I don’t know why the fuck you haven’t been answering the headset, but bitch, you need to hurry your ass up! The deal is in three minutes, and if you aren’t here, we’re gonna get our hands dirty, so please hurry the fuck up and get to me!” Pinkie Pie frustratedly whispered through her phone.

Applejack hadn’t been answering her headset, so Pinkie had figured she might’ve damaged it or dropped it, and so she had called her.

“W-what? W-w-we don’t got t-time for that, Pinks! We’re gonna fuckin fall and die! Or these colors gonna eat our ass, you gotta-,!” Applejack began, but her voice faded as an impact was heard.

Pinkie heard fumbled franticness over the phone, which rushed her heart into fear. She didn’t know what Applejack was talking about, but she was sure she had heard her say that she would die.

“What the fuck, is she doing!? I thought this woman ran a gang!?” Pinkie Pie thought, annoyed they would lose progress by having to go and find her.

Pinkie Pie sat, looking at her phone, thinking. She’d have to either kill whoever was in this building, and go get Applejack, while leaving the operation to her boys, or she would have to send one of them after Applejack.

Pinkie Pie pinched the bridge of her nose, stressed.

“Applejack… You’ll fuck us up if we fuck up, huh…?” Pinkie Pie thought, as her fists tightened greatly, to the point where veins bulged over her fist.

“Cay. Cay, pick up the fucking headset!” Pinkie whispered harshly into the headset.

“Yeah? Wassup?” Cay responded.

“Kill them. Kill all of them, and try to keep the dealers in the area. If things get hot or too suspicious, pick them off one-by-one. Applejack’s in trouble, I’m going to save her.” Pinkie Pie explained.

“W-huh-freal!?” a multitude of their voices collided over the headset.

“Calm the fuck down! Be quiet, be cautious, and follow what I say! Remember what Applejack said!” Pinkie Pie said, her whispering becoming harsher. She was visibly infuriated with the hinge in their plan that would ultimately slow down their time to save Rainbow Dash.

“I’m gonna say it again. Kill the people in the buildings, and if things get too suspicious, start killing off the dealers immediately. Make sure they can’t call for back up, and don’t let things get too loud. I’ll update you guys, keep in touch, understood?” Pinkie Pie asked, as she flicked out a blade from her pocket, walking to the room where she smelled the cigarette-smoke from.

“Gotcha.” They replied, before it went quiet.

Pinkie got up with ferocity. She walked into the room, not caring for how loud her foot-steps were.

As she stepped into the door-way, she saw a young-girl smoking a cigarette, and as they made eye-contact, the girl’s cigarette dropped.

Both Pinkie’s and her eyes set onto the rifle sitting by the window. Pinkie Pie was already closer to it than she was.

Drawing her gun quickly, Pinkie aimed at the girl’s forehead.

“Hands up. Way up.” Pinkie said simply. “And I’m not in the mood for the bullshit. Make this easy for the both of us.” Pinkie Pie warned.

The girl’s hands trembled. In the second of shock that she had, Pinkie took advantage and closed the distance, equipping her knife once more, holding it to her throat.

“They call you often?” Pinkie Pie asked, pushing the girl to the wall, her knife pressing against her throat.

“N-no…! Yeah…? I-I dunno!” The girl said, as tears began to well up in her eyes.

“Fucking feelings…” Pinkie Pie thought, a tinge of guilt arising.

“It’s for Rainbow Dash!” Pinkie Pie reminded herself, steeling her mind against the guilt of murder.

With a powerful grip, and a swift slice of the skin, the girl dropped, blood exiting in great volume from her neck, as she choked and bled to death.

Pinkie Pie grabbed the phone from her pocket, put it to silent, and placed it into her own back pocket.

“I need to find Applejack, ASAP…” Pinkie Pie thought, cleaning her blade with the girl’s clothing, and sheathing it once more, as she sped off…

“Oh, my, fuck! Brae, it’s fuckin eating me alive!” Applejack screamed in agony, as the different rainbows viciously tore the flesh off of Applejack’s abdomen.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about? Those things ain’t doin’ ya no harm.” Braeburn said, giggling as he feverishly rubbed his wrists.

As Applejack looked again, she realized that the rainbows were much softer and fluffy, and were now tickling her sides.

“G-goddammit, quit it!” Applejack giggled, before getting serious.

“Fuck, we don’t got time for this shit! Pinks gon’ be mad if we don’t get there on time.” Applejack said, shoving the rainbows off of her. Her abdomen seemed healed, and she wondered if she was ever injured in the first place.

“Bro, is it just me, or my wrists look funny to you?” Braeburn asked. As both stared at his wrists, they could see red slashes opening and closing on them.

“Holy shit, your arms breathe now? Bro, that’s pretty fuckin dope.” Applejack said, placing her finger on one of his wrists. The slit stayed closed. She lifted her finger, and it started its cycle of ‘breathing’, once more.

“Maaaan, we smoked some good shit.” Braeburn laughed.

“Yeah, but hangover and withdrawal is gonna be a bitch. I hate fuckin with hard drugs.” Applejack said, shaking her head in attempt to focus.

“I remember when my man’s introduced me to some new shit. Cocaine. Had me fucked up for a few months, and those withdrawals, are… They stay with you for months, Brae. We can’t do this shit again, you understand? We gotta resist it after this, you promise?” Applejack asked.

“I… I understand. I promise.” Braeburn said, as both, in their small moment of right-mindedness, connected their pinkies and hugged. Pulling back, Applejack became serious again.

“Look, Brae… We’re not far from where we need to be. We should go, shouldn’t we?” Applejack stated, realizing that they were well overdue on their arrival time.

“Should we?” Braeburn said.

“I said, no, you shouldn’t!” a voice was heard yelling, obviously exasperated.

As both turned, they saw a pink, oddly shaped, divine mass standing over the both of them.

“Bro, they wasn’t lyin’... God is real.” Applejack trailed, staring up at the tall figure standing over, who’s hair and clothes seemed to flutter in the wind.

The pink, divine mass seemed displeased with Applejack’s mutterings.

Rainbow Dash and Twilight looked between each other with great intensity. They then turned back to Big Mac.

“Applejack? Your little sister? She did all that to you?” Rainbow Dash asked with total urgency.

“Eeyup.” Big Mac said simply. Silence followed again. Rainbow Dash looked crazily between Twilight and Big Mac.

“I gotta hear this shit.” Rainbow Dash said, walking up to Big Mac and sitting in front of his bed.

“It all starts when I had just become a teen. Little ‘Jack was maybe seven or eight at the time…” Big Mac began.

“Back when my parents were alive, there were no Bloods or Pirus. There was no such thing as Crips. We were all still a gang, but it wasn’t explicitly stated as a gang. It was simply an organized syndicate of all our Apple-relatives and friends who just happened to be involved in shady business together. If you had asked what was the name of the gang we rep back then, we wouldn’t be able to give you one. Due to my mom’s love for the color, though, purple was our decided rep-color, and for business reasons, we were simply known as ‘The Apple Family’, or TAF, as we most commonly referred to ourselves by.”

“We were happy in the rural parts of this town, way south. I’m sure you know of Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack, Applebloom, who was recently born, Granny Smith, our parents, and I, lived in total harmony. Well, as harmonious as a family of criminals could live. But, it was good. Father was the brains of TAF, and Mom was the brawn. The rest of us did whatever we could to help, save for ‘Bloom. We got along well. And then, on that day, when important foreign affairs-”

“Foreign affairs? I thought we didn’t have the technological advancement required to communicate with the outside world? You mean someone from outside visited?” Rainbow Dash interrupted.

Twilight seemed to urgently notice Rainbow Dash’s confusion.

“Yes, foreigners visited here personally.” Big Mac clarified.

“Foreigners… Some shit went down back then, huh?” Rainbow Dash mused. Apparently, foreign contact was unheard of.

“Ahem, continuing…” Big Mac said. Twilight seemed to shift uncomfortably.

“Long story short, foreign affairs happened, and a new mayor of our town was appointed. A new man to run the island. And this guy, he meant business. His first task was to wipe out gang activity on Anthroville, beginning with, what he described as an organized syndicate, our TAF. Saving a bunch of bullshit, the motherfucker did his job well. He killed our trades, punished our extortions, and busted our deals. He was fucking us mercilessly. Eventually, we got ran into a corner, and, well…”

…

A young Big Mac appeared within his thoughts. This young Big Mac had just arrived home, and seemed to be the first one home. As he walked in, he immediately observed that the house was a mess. Smashed liquor bottles all over, and things were destroyed.

As he walked into the living room, he saw his father, a joint in one hand and liquor bottle in the other, standing and looking out the window behind the TV.

…

“I asked what the hell was wrong with the place, and as my father turned to me… I could see that something was severely different, y’know? His eyes, the color had faded. His face was ghastly, and pale. His lips seemed to implode, and they were dry. He seemed desperate to wet his mouth with that nasty ass liquor. Something was really off. So, obviously, I asked.”

…

“Big Mac. I have some very important knowledge in this brain. Knowledge, that if I were to give out to the wrong people, would literally allow the DL to erase us from existence.” Big Mac’s father stated.

“I… I follow ya. I think.” young Big Mac replied, confused.

“Today… Today, our farmhouse was raided. By the police.” Big Mac’s father spoke slowly.

“Yeah? Did you kill ‘em and bury the bodies, or did they run?” young Big Mac asked excitedly, knowing what his father was capable of.

“Son…” his father began, taking the final swig from the bottle, dropping it on the ground as it broke. He pulled hard from the joint, blowing the smoke into young Big Mac’s face.

“Do you still have that gun I gave you for your first clean-up a few days back?” Big Mac’s father asked, very seriously.

“Y-yeah, I do. Why, you want me to go get it?” young Big Mac asked.

His father nodded, turning back to the window, smoking.

…

“So I went. I went upstairs, and grabbed the gun that got me my first ever kill. It was the only kill I had under my belt at the time, so that gun held value to me. I treasured it. It was still loaded with the very same clip I had used for the job. As I walked back downstairs, I wondered: what the hell could my father want me to have the gun for? I just got back from school, and was pretty tired, so I wasn’t really feeling up to any jobs, even if the feeling of taking a life was, admittedly, a pretty damn good rush. I thought, he’d have to wait if he wanted me to run a job now. But then, I shook my head. Why the hell was he so fucked up, I thought. Whatever he wanted that gun for, it wasn’t just another job. He needed something serious done, and I wasn’t sure I could handle serious. But either ways, I went.”

…

“I got it, pops!” young Big Mac yelled, descending the stairs. His father hadn’t moved from the window. Before he turned to face his son once more, he flicked the now clipped joint out the window.

Young Big Mac noticed that his father was shivering. It was nearly Summer vacation, so it definitely wasn’t cold.

“Dad? You alright? Why’re you shaking?” young Big Mac asked.

His father turned, sighing. He ran a hand through his hair, taking off his hat.

“Son, do you know what’ll happen, if those Orange bastards get their hands on me?” Big Mac’s father asked.

Young Big Mac shook his head.

“That special knowledge in my brain will be translated to paper. And that paper will give them the knowledge to take down our TAF forever. Completely erase us. You think we can let that happen?” Big Mac’s father asked, staring into young Big Mac’s eyes.

“Fuck no! Not on my life!” young Big Mac said adamantly, wanting to show his passion for his father, who basically ran the gang.

“Good, good. Now, son, are you brave? Real brave? Brave enough to protect this family?” Big Mac’s father asked. His shivering intensified, worrying young Big Mac slightly.

“Y-yeah… Why?” young Big Mac replied.

“I need you to shoot me. Right between the eyes, son.” Big Mac’s father said suddenly, with no transition. He was a man who got to the point. Young Big Mac froze, the gun still in his hand. He was stunned.

“W-w-what? D-Dad, stop joking! What is it?!” young Big Mac said, his voice raising, due to his rising anxiety on the matter.

“This is far from humor, son. After you do it, I need you to go to my room and burn all the plastic bags I have in there. I’ve already sent my contacts important info to keep you relatively clean, so don’t worry, just put ‘er there and-”

“Dad, I’m not shooting you, I don’t want to do it!” young Big Mac interrupted. Suddenly, the father kicked the television out the way, and grabbed young Big Mac, staring him in the face.

“This isn’t about what you want, Big Mac! This is what the family needs! My existence is dangerous, and, goddammit, I won’t let us just be erased like this! Now you are going to shoot me and dispose of the bags, are we understood!?” Big Mac’s father barked.

Young Big Mac could feel his body shaking, but it wasn’t because of his emotions, no; Big Mac’s father was shaking. Uncontrollably, at this point. His legs even seemed to quiver.

“D-Dad, you can’t just expect me to… I… I need a minute, please…” young Big Mac said, tears beginning to sting his eyes.

“Son, there is no time… It won’t be long before they’re back, don’t you understand? There won’t be a second chance to save what we built. Don’t you care any bit at all we worked for?” Big Mac’s father asked.

“Dad…” young Big Mac sniffed, the tears falling slowly down his cheeks.

“Son, listen… You have to think of Granny Smith. Applejack. If you don’t do this, nobody will be there to even protect little Applebloom. You’re gonna toss this all away?” Big Mac’s father asked.

“I just don’t understand-”

“I don’t need you to understand, I need you to shoot me!” Big Mac’s father yelled again, this time more ferociously.

With no words, young Big Mac simply backed away, his hands and body limp. He knew it had been rough recently, but he never expected that it would come to this.

“Did you understand that?” Big Mac’s father asked, sternly, as he picked up another joint from the windowsill, lighting it and popping it into his mouth, taking a long pull. His body still shivered uncontrollably.

Young Big Mac only nodded, his hand suddenly tightening.

“And what are you gonna do after you shoot me?” Big Mac’s father asked.

“B-b-b-burn the… B-burn the…” young Big Mac tried to speak, but found himself choking up, and his lips twisting in on themselves, cramping; his vision blurred with tears.

Big Mac’s father simply put a hand onto young Big Mac’s head, ruffling his hair.

“That’ll do, son. I’m sorry I was so reckless. I’m sorry it came to this.” Big Mac’s father said, pulling from his blunt once more.

Young Big Mac could only nod. Suddenly, his father hugged him.

“Son. You know that I love you, right? And always will?” Big Mac’s father asked.

Young Big Mac nodded his chin into his father’s shoulder.

“And I know you love me, too. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Big Mac’s father said.

“I… I l-love you, too…” young Big Mac said, anyway, sniffling.

Pulling back, Big Mac’s father nodded.

“Ready the weapon.” Big Mac’s father stated, as Big Mac obeyed, already regretting his actions.

Big Mac’s father returned to looking out the window. He let out his smoke, breathing out onto the pane. Big Mac watched him shiver, looking out that window.

“On three, I want you to hit the back of my sk-skull, underst-stand? And… Let everyone know, especially your Mother, that… that I love them all. I always have, and always will.” Big Mac’s father instructed, not facing Big Mac. His shivering intensified…

It was easier for both of them this way.

“One…” He began, after a long pause, as his shivering only got worse.

“Tw-”

*BANG!*

…

“And just like that, the bravest man I ever knew was gone. My second ever kill, was my own father. I killed one of our parents, with my own hands-,”

“Wait, wait, wait, so you didn’t even let your pops get to three? That’s fucked up.” Twilight asked. Big Mac turned to Twilight with an intense glare.

“His biggest fear was death. What’s really more fucked up, letting him actually get to three, or making it unexpected?” Big Mac said, his voice sounding a little scratchy.

Big Mac wouldn’t openly admit it, but the way in which he witnessed his father die -- how he played such a hand in it -- contributed greatly to his habit of silence.

“For the love of god, can we skip the emotional shit, huh? Please?” Rainbow Dash asked. She was clearly agitated by this part of the story.

“Alright, well…” Big Mac stated, continuing.

…

Big Mac picked up the half-smoked blunt, still lit, and put it in his mouth, taking one long, hard, pull. He kept it in his lungs for nearly 3 whole seconds, before he went into a coughing fit.

He took another few strong pulls like that, as his tears mixed with the blood of his father. Finishing the blunt, he outed it in the blood of his father, as some sort of respects. Grabbing a bottle of liquor off the counter, he then emptied it onto the blood, as the volume of his tears increased.

He then rushed upstairs, tossed all the bags out of the window, grabbed a fair bit of gasoline from a garage, soaked the bags, and watched them burn, as his father instructed, the image of his father on the ground burned into his head.

As he watched the fire, the marijuana began to alter his reality, and slightly calm him. It wasn’t his first time, but more than half a blunt was more than he was used to.

…

“To skip the boring parts, I waited and waited, deciding of how to bury my father, when suddenly, cops showed up to the door. They swiftly arrested me, but here’s the kicker: as I was escorted to the car, I saw Applejack walking just down the street. She rushed up to me, and she’s goin’ crazy: asking why I’m arrested, physically assaulting officers, the works. Then, one officer says to her, ‘this boy is under arrest as the prime suspect in the death of Bright Mac’. As that was said, Applejack just stopped, and rushed inside of the house. They put me in the car, and that was the last interaction I had with her for a while.”

“A few days later, one of my father’s most trusted allies attempted to bail me out, and failed. Some days after that, he simply broke me out on his own. When I got out, my first thought was to immediately see my family again. However, my ally made it very clear that I shouldn’t interact right away. He needed time to make them understand the situation, and to keep me safe. So I waited. And I waited for days, homesick, day after day, doing nothing in one boring room.”

“To shorten this, once the documents were properly analyzed, spread out among our ranks, and explained, it was denied and accepted. Those who accepted them as truth, supported me. Those who denied it, hated me. My mom was undecided. She was never entrusted with any overly-sensitive information from my father, due to her constant involvement on the physical field, so her guess to the truth was as good as everyone else’s. But I knew what my father said, how he looked, and who he was. He wouldn’t’ve told me to do it if he didn’t think it had to be done. Especially not when that was his greatest fear -- death.”

“And then, that bitch, Applejack… She had the nerve to instill these -- these lies and shit into her head. Into everyone’s heads. And it would’ve been fine if… If I hadn’t decided to return home on such a bad day…”

…

Big Mac had finally returned to see his home. As far as he knew, his mother would be the only one home for at least the next 2 hours. He would have to be in and out.

He planned to give his mother the firsthand account on her lover’s death. He owed it to her, he knew she was going through a literal hell. He needed to give her some kind of closure, and she needed the truth. All of it.

Steeling himself, Big Mac knocked on the door. Thirty seconds passed. He knocked again, harder this time.

“Fuck off, I’m hungover! Go talk to uh… Go find Braeburn or something!” Big Mac’s mother yelled from behind the door.

“Mom!” Big Mac yelled, pounding on the door this time.

Silence inside. Suddenly, frantic shuffling was heard, as several latches on the door were heard being undone.

The door finally opened, and Big Mac saw her: his mother. She was an absolute mess. Her hair was covered by the signature hat, but Big Mac could see that her hair was severely unkempt beneath it; she obviously had no bra on as her nipples poked through her T-shirt. It was Winter now, after all. Her shirt and shorts were littered with stains, and she reeked of liquor and marijuana.

“Mac…” Big Mac’s mother started, her eyes immediately becoming teary.

“Oh goodness Ma… I’m so sorry…!” Big Mac said, his own eyes becoming teary. He had somehow felt like this was all his fault. Like he made her this, sad excuse of existence.

He ran up to hug her, but was surprised when he found himself flat on the ground, blood dripping from his nose.

He looked up with a fearful face. He looked at his mother, her knuckle out towards him.

“You have some fucking nerve, kiddo. I’ll give it that. You got some real fucking nerve.” Big Mac’s mother said, as she walked and picked Big Mac up by his collar, glaring into his face.

“Tell me, ‘Mac. Tell me why I shouldn’t bury you next to your Father right now.” Big Mac’s mother asked, slightly choking him.

Big Mac forcefully grabbed her wrist, squeezing hard.

“Because, I’m your fucking son, and I know the truth. Only one person watched him die!” Big Mac said. Those words angered his mother, as she turned around and tackled him through the wooden door.

Big Mac writhed in pain on the ground, feeling several bruises and relatively big splinters lodged into his back.

“Really now? Funny enough that that person killed him, right!? Funny, ain’t it? Ain’t it, you little fucking runt?!” Big Mac’s mother yelled, stomping through the house towards Big Mac.

“Mom, please! I came here for you! To let you know the truth! Who else are you gonna hear it from…?” Big Mac asked, preparing to defend himself.

“Oh, I don’t know, the person who found you being arrested for murdering my husband? Applejack was there, you fucking weasel!” Big Mac’s mother yelled, throwing forward a punch.

Big Mac ducked beneath it, but was immediately met by a powerful knee to the stomach that knocked the wind out of him. He was totally outmatched by the appointed strongest member of TAF.

If Big Mac didn’t think quick, she would beat the life out of him before he had a chance to amend things.

“Mom, what did she tell you? Did she tell you anything? I mean, you’ve seen the documents!” Big Mac creeped out from his gut, the wind still missing.

“The documents? Do you think my husband was a fucking coward? That he would think the only solution is to have himself killed!? How fucking gullible do you think I am, you little shit!?” Big Mac’s mother barked, delivering the side of her ankle to the recovering Big Mac, who slammed into the marble floor, creating a bruise on his forehead, and one on his mouth.

“Coward? Mom, do you even know your own husband anymore? Your own son?” Big Mac asked, trying to get up.

Suddenly, Big Mac was picked up by his hair. Centimeters from his face, was his own mother’s distraught, red-hot, teary-eyed face.

“Excuse me?” Big Mac’s mother asked, about ready to smash his skull into the marble kitchen floor that they found themselves into.

“What was his biggest fear? You, of all people, had to know.” Big Mac said, feeling blood ooze from wounds on his face and body. He spat, as blood leaked and dripped down his chin.

Big Mac’s mother’s grip on his hair released, as Big Mac fell onto his butt.

“You realize, now? Telling me to kill him. That was the bravest thing he did, and we both know it. He wouldn’t ever tell me to do such a thing unless it was totally needed.” Big Mac said, finally relaxing a bit now that his mother wasn’t pummeling him to death.

“Oh my god… Oh, goodness gracious…” Big Mac’s mother muttered to herself. She suddenly became fidgety, and rushed over to a table. She picked up a lit blunt from the ash tray, and pulled. After she pulled, she took 3 long gulps from a bottle of apple-flavored vodka on the counter.

Finally, she breathed out, as a cloud of smoke overtook the room.

…

“After that, she calmed enough for me to explain my story. I’ll never forget how satisfied she was to hear exactly how he died, what he said, and how he acted before it happened. She made it clear, however, that she would still never forgive me for killing her husband: her lover. But, of course, shit just couldn’t ever go smoothly.”

…

As Big Mac and his mother spoke, they heard sirens begin to blare across the streets. Both immediately rose and tensed up at the sound of sirens.

“You were followed?” Big Mac’s mother asked.

“What? I was alone, locked in a room for a near-consecutive six months! I didn’t think they’d have any leads on me!” Big Mac said, frantic.

“Maybe they don’t. If they don’t know you’re here, you have to leave, now. You know you’re my son, so if they capture you again-,”

“They won’t be imprisoning me this time, I know.” Big Mac said.

“But mom, we’re a family. Family do things togeth-,”

“Mac, this is not the fucking time. Your father tasked you with protecting the family, and you and Applejack are all that’s left that can possibly keep the Death Lotus from winning. You, have, to, go.” Big Mac’s mother stated sternly.

“Besides, you know the truth. Somebody has to live with it.” Big Mac’s mother stated, as she grabbed a rifle on top the kitchen’s cupboard. She readied it, and shoved 2 extra mags into her the side of her pants.

“What? Don’t talk like that, it’s just some cops! They’ll probably just arrest you again, won’t they? You guys have the power to talk this out in court.” Big Mac said, in a near-pleading voice.

“We’re beyond the talking stage, ‘Mac. I don’t know how up-to-speed you are, but this confrontation was overdue. They are here to kill. And this time, they mean business, so I don’t think-”

“What? Don’t fuckin’ talk like that mom, you’re not gonna die to some pigs, are you?” Big Mac said, holding his hand out to her. The sounds of sirens not only increased in number, but seemed to be closing in even faster.

“No… I guess I won’t.” Big Mac’s mother stated, as she flicked the safety off of her gun.

“Now go. I’ll um… No, you call me, when this is all over. From an untraceable line, too. If I don’t pick up-,”

“You’ll pick up, Mom!” Big Mac said, his voice rising and becoming a little stern. She chuckled lowly.

“Just like your father, huh? Look, all I’m saying is, if things go south, take care of your sisters, okay? Please, son.” Big Mac’s mother asked. From outside the window, both could see several trucks and cars stop in front of the Acres. They were all highlighted with Orange.

“I promise. I’ll um…” Big Mac trailed, pointing to the back-door.

Big Mac’s mother only nodded, as she walked out to the front door.

“Hey, ‘Mac?” Big Mac’s mother called, one last time.

As Big Mac turned around, her hat hit him in his face. He picked it up, looking at her. He knew what the hat meant: it was the last thing that his mother had from his father. With shaky lips, he simply nodded, walking out.

As soon as Big Mac landed into the large backyard orchard of apple trees, he already heard wood and stone splintering off from contact with the projectiles, and he tried his best to avoid any places where police might be infiltrating from.

He squeezed his fists hard, and ran as fast as he could throughout the trees, and into some backwash of the land, where he thought he could lay low for a while.

…

“I… I always felt like I should’ve said more to her, maybe even an ‘I love you’, before she was gone forever. I didn’t want to believe it, but part of me knew that I wouldn’t be seeing my mother again. The only hope I had was that I hadn’t seen or heard anything about her in the news. So, I hoped that maybe, she had fought her way out of that mess, somehow, someway. But, then, Applejack called me. My personal cell-phone, something that only one person had access to: the ally that Father appointed me.”

…

“How’d you get this number?” Big Mac asked, immediately tensing up, and preparing for the worst. He reached under his bed, and grabbed his fully loaded glock. He checked the cartridge, and assured that all 15 bullets were inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Guess Dad couldn’t protect you enough, could he?” a premature voice said through the line.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Big Mac asked, angry. He knew Applejack would try to hurt him. She had been stuck on vengeance for their father for quite some time.

“Dad? I loved him unconditionally, unlike you, you sick fuck.” Applejack said, her words seeping with venom. Big Mac gritted his teeth, and punched his wall, caving the paint in, as a bit of the wall crumbled. His knuckles bled.

“I mean B-,”

“Obviously you mean him, you fucking idiot. How about you come over to Sugarcube Corner and find out. Or, are you gonna run away, just like you did with Mom, too?” Applejack said, emphasizing the last bit, as she hung up.

Big Mac froze. Coldness. He felt guilt. Shame. Was he a coward? Could he have prevented his mother’s dea-, no! She wasn’t dead, and he knew it. She wasn’t dead.

But then, a boiling fury. He wasn’t going to let his little sister play games with his head like this. Grabbing his coat and hat, he stomped out of the apartment building he was staying at, on his way to Sugarcube Corner.

When he had finally arrived, he realized that Sugarcube Corner was closed, as the Cakes were on their honeymoon.

“So you showed up?” A voice called. Big Mac turned, and there, he saw her. The young Applejack, no hat, and short hair. She walked towards him with a glare, and her small muscles flexed in the tank-top she wore.

“You got some nerve, kid.” Big Mac said, crossing his arms.

“I got nerve? You,!” Applejack began, shoving Big Mac hard in his chest, as Big Mac stumbled back onto his butt.

“Got some fucking nerve, pulling this shit not once, but twice!” Applejack yelled into Big Mac’s face. Her face was wrenched in pain. Big Mac felt his own heart wrench in pain: the face reminded him of his mother’s.

“Twice?” Big Mac asked.

“I came home, for the second time in the same year, to one of my parents’ brains painting our fucking house! Care to explain that!?” Applejack asked.

“‘Jack-,”

“And don’t even say it wasn’t on you! I spoke to a lot of people! I know you were there shortly before those fucking pigs arrived. You, have no, fucking, shame. Leading them right to her? You may as well have killed her yourself!” Applejack yelled into his face, her fists balled, and her muscles flexing with rage. Big Mac sympathized with her pain.

“‘Jack, once again, you’re misinterpreting the-,”

*tchk!*

Big Mac stood there, feeling his nose drip. He wanted to retaliate, but he couldn’t. As he watched her walk to him once more, he could only see both of their parents in her face. The same pain wrenched into each one’s face.

*Dik!*

Big Mac felt his cheek bruise. His father’s hat -- his hat, flew off of his head, as he laid on his back.

“You are pathetic. Of course you won’t fight back, you know you’re wrong! C’mere!” Applejack yelled, picking Big Mac up and setting him on his feet.

“Fight back, you fucking pussy!” Applejack yelled, punching him in his nose. Big Mac only stumbled back, looking into her eyes, which began to become teary.

“I said, fight back, you fucking pussy! You got no fuckin’ shame!” Applejack yelled, as her tears fell. Big Mac blocked this punch, hearing Applejack’s soft sobs.

He brought her in for a hug, forcibly.

“I know it hurts, sis, but we’re only here now because of sacrifices. I didn’t just kill them. They sacrificed themselves, for u-agchk!” Big Mac was interrupted by Applejack’s knuckle to his throat.

As he choked on the ground, Applejack mercilessly delivered the tip of her boot to the side of his head, and then several to his stomach, further severing his ability to breathe.

Big Mac felt the blood leak from his forehead.

“If Applebloom didn’t wanna see you one last time, I’d fucking kill you. Right here, right now. You were the third name she learned, and the only name that she won’t stop repeating at night.” Applejack said, wiping her tears.

She knelt next to the befallen Big Mac.

“Must make even a piece of shit like you feel even a morsel of happiness, doesn’t it?” Applejack asked, feigning a smile.

“You wanna know how I got your number?” Applejack asked. Big Mac was still, too much in pain to respond appropriately.

Applejack gestured to someone, and as Big Mac looked up, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There he was, standing there.

“Surprised? Not even his most trusted brainiac could possibly believe that those documents were true. Not even his greatest ally, that he assigned to protect you, could possibly believe that bullshit.” Applejack stated, crossing her arms.

“Blueblood, go start the car. I think we’re done here.” Applejack stated.

Blueblood only nodded, as he walked off, not taking another look at Big Mac.

“If Granny Smith didn’t insist that I don’t kill you, for Applebloom’s sake, you’d be dead tonight, do you understand me?” Applejack asked, as her hand reached inside of her coat pocket.

Big Mac’s eyes expanded slightly, as he felt the cold, metal barrel press against the skin of his forehead.

“You’d be bleeding out, right here, right now. You understand me, Big McIntosh?” Applejack asked, using his full name to indicate their cut off as relatives.

“You love this family too much to pull that trigger. Even in a decade from now, you wouldn’t pull that trigger.” Big Mac stated, beginning to pick himself up.

Suddenly, he was felled again by a powerful kick to the stomach once more.

“Don’t fucking test me, understand? Granny Smith wants you to call her sometime within the next year to see Applebloom. It will be the last safe interaction you have with us, so she wants to make sure you have time to decide the best time for you. I delivered my message.” Applejack stated, as she walked away swiftly.

However, she stopped, and walked back to the recovering Big Mac. She punched him in the face one last time, and as Big Mac fell, he saw her orange hand envelop the top of the straw hat that their mother gave to him.

“You’re the last person who deserved to be left with this. I’ll be taking that.” Applejack stated, as she finally left.

…

“And just like that, we split. Applejack reformed the gang, and made it totally devoted to crippling the Death Lotus, who started the deterioration of the family, as she saw. She appropriately renamed the gang as Crip. She changed the color’s gang to blue, in order to commemorate the change. But I knew, she had it backwards. The Death Lotus didn’t dissolve us, misunderstanding did.”

“So, I made a gang called Piru. It was Crip backwards, but because I still held a level of hostility towards her, I put the ‘C’ on it’s back to make a ‘U’, just like I wanted to lay her out flat the next time I saw her. I made the color red, because -- and I know it sound silly, but -- I made it red, because I knew, that if we just made up and reconnected… That things would go back to the way they were. Our color would be purple once more.”

“Heh… Hehehehe…” Rainbow Dash chuckled to herself, before bursting into a boisterous laugh.

“Dash??” Twilight asked, confused at her laughter.

“Twi. We made a good decision recruiting Applejack.” Rainbow Dash said, standing, as she smirked into Big Mac’s face. He glared back at her, feeling as if Rainbow Dash said this just to oppose him.

“Did we?” Twilight inquired.

“Anybody who has that much love and devotion and loyalty to their family -- to their parents -- is someone I’d love to have in my gang.” Rainbow Dash said, her eyes not leaving Big Mac’s.

“On the other hand, Big Mac. The fuck did you do? For your parents’ vengeance?” Rainbow Dash asked, fearless.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight said in a low, harsh voice.

“I’ve done a lot more than you did for yours, little lady.” Big Mac replied, his eyes not leaving Rainbow Dash’s. Both tensed up.

Zecora cautioned herself, preparing to hold Big Mac back.

“With all due respect-” Twilight began, but then shook her head.

“Actually, fuck the respect, I forgot we’re rivals. All things considered, however, how do you expect us to believe you? You’re a high-rolling rival of hers. Generally, you’re meant to have the worst views of each other. How can we take this to heart?” Twilight interrogated, desperate to divert the attention.

“Have you heard Applejack mention me even once?” Big Mac asked, his attention being driven off of Rainbow Dash.

“... We haven’t had the chance to formally hang out yet.” Twilight stated.

“When you get out of here, keep that question in mind. It’ll give you the answer you’re looking for.” Big Mac stated.

“You said you named your gang Piru, because you knew the Crips ran on backwards ideals. Why is it that they’re known mainly as Bloods, today?” Twilight asked.

“We are the most brutal, bloodlusting gang to have ever existed after TAF. That nickname, Bloods, came when Filthy Rich himself acknowledged our red color and profound violence.” Big Mac said, a proud smile on his face.

“Hm, I see. So, what're you planning to do about Applejack now, then?" Twilight asked.

"The goal has never changed. However, before I reunite us, I am going to make her acknowledge her mistakes. Whether she likes it or not, and..." Big Mac began, standing up.

“Unfortunately for her, that mistake is coming to chew her ass up.” Big Mac said lowly, as he walked toward the cell door, shoving past Rainbow Dash forcefully.

“You know what, girls?” Big Mac said, turning back. His muscular, heavy-set body gleamed in the bright prison lighting.

“Sup?” Rainbow Dash asked, turning to face him with a small, challenging smile.

“For a couple of pussies, you ain’t fight too bad.” Big Mac said, holding his hand out for a handshake with a genuine smile.

Rainbow Dash stared at him, and then walked right up to his face. She stared down at his hand, back to his face, and then spit on his hand.

“For a burly ass hillbilly-redneck, you speak pretty proper.” Rainbow Dash said, smirking up to him.

Big Mac sighed, wiping his hand on his pants. The two stood across from each other, silence filling the room once more.

In an instant, it seemed that Big Mac’s fist had connected with Rainbow Dash’s jaw.

However, as the scenery cleared up, Rainbow Dash was seen holding Big Mac’s fist in both hands, the back of her own hands squishing her face. She had mostly blocked the impact.

“Hm.” Big Mac grinned.

“Hmph.” Rainbow Dash replied, her grin synonymous with his.

“Zeek, I like these two. Show ‘em around, I think I’ll train them for the project.” Big Mac said, turning and walking out of the cell with a bang on the bars.

“Oh, fuck…” Rainbow Dash muttered, falling onto her front, barely shielding her head from damage.

Twilight immediately rushed over to her care.

“Remember, Dash: you took a lot of head trauma. Might wanna take it easy for a bit.” Twilight stated. However, Rainbow Dash simply sat up, a wide grin on her face.

“He makes me excited.” Rainbow Dash said simply, cracking her knuckles.

“I gotta get stronger. I gotta get better.” Rainbow Dash spoke with a sort of bold desire.

Twilight admired Rainbow Dash’s ability to stay confident, despite making such a fierce rival.

“You’re strong, Rainbow Dash. Real strong. Stronger than your muscles will ever show.” Twilight thought, unconsciously studying Rainbow Dash underneath her gaze.

Pinkie Pie stood above both Applejack and Braeburn. They were clearly beyond gone, as they chuckled to each other, looking up to Pinkie Pie as some sort of god.

“You’re both high off your asses, aren’t you?” Pinkie Pie asked.

“What? N-naaaahh…..” Applejack trailed off. Suddenly, Braeburn violently slapped her shoulder.

“The fuck, Brae…?” Applejack groaned, rolling onto the hit area.

“Are you crazy!? You can’t lie to God!” Braeburn whispered harshly.

“Oh, shit… Right, right, sorry. Yes, my Lord, I’m high as fuck.” Applejack admitted, as she began to giggle uncontrollably.

“I can’t fucking believe this… I can’t fucking believe you, Applejack!” Pinkie Pie yelled. She turned on her headset.

“Somebody come to the fucking corner we got dropped on, I don’t know the name of the street. Pick these two fucking dopefiends up, and get them somewhere to recover. The rest of us, we’re finishing this.” Pinkie Pie instructed, as her eyes went cold once more, unsheathing her gun, and walking forward.

“Got it. Everybody else, y’all got this, Ray’s goin’ over to take ‘em home.” a voice said in the headsets.

Pinkie Pie took one last look at Applejack, and said one final thing, before walking off to finish the job that they started.

“With, or without you, Applejack, I am going to save Rainbow Dash. I only need your gang.”

Author's Note

I am seriously confused at my inability to be consistent with writing. It's like, in one night, I can finish 75% of my chapter, and other times, I'll be out of motivation for weeks on end!

Anyways, self-evaluation aside, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and if you see any continuity errors, or just anything about the story you'd like to discuss in general, please do not hesitate to let me know! And as always, feel free to refer to me for any misunderstood, or totally non-understood, vocabluary! Toodles, love you all! ^.^