I'm sorry for writing this.
The morning sun gradually rose over the vast rows of trees in Sweet Apple Acres, painting a cliché, picturesque light on a canvas of land. Streaks of gold, orange, and pink littered the sky, and the trees glowed in colorful vibrancy. Everything was just waking up in Ponyville; the roosters were squawking obnoxiously, birds were chirping giddily, and an annoyed old mare was emerging from a comically cutesy red barn on the crest of a hill. Two ponies in particular, however, had been up for a while.
The two cartoon horses stood in the middle of a denser part of the apple orchard forest. Thick underbrush and shrubs surrounded them, accompanied by the gnarled bark-coated trees that rose above the sisters, their canopies providing shade as they gazed down at the strange device that had brought them there in the first place. It was like an 'L', with the longest rod being brown with a small point sticking out from the top and a small trigger between them.
The eldest (and grumpiest) of the two, a topaz orange mare with a blond mane and tail that were kept together with thick red scrunchies, had a picture of three ripe apples printed onto her flank, and on the top of her head lied a roughed-up brown cowpony hat. She stood, an annoyed pout and a dull, flat look plastered over her face, alongside her younger, blank-flank sister, a yellow filly donning an obscenely large pink bow atop her rose-red mane. There was a pregnant silence before the younger one spoke up.
"What is it, sis?" she asked in a curious tone, her country accent thick as she eyed the object in question with interest. At this, her sister scoffed.
"What are ya, Apple Bloom, stupid?" she asked the yellow filly, throwing a hoof in the air to accentuate her question.
Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin, seemingly deep in thought, before answering abruptly with an ear to ear grin. "Yes!"
The orange mare's frown deepened and she sighed, facehoofing. "'Course ya are." Without a moment's hesitation, she wrapped a hoof around the item that lied on the smooth dirt and pointed the end of it to the sky. Apple Bloom's curious expression lit up as it transformed into one of joy and remembrance.
"Oh, Ah've seen these in TV!" she stated, not to any of her sister's interest. Of course, she continued talking. "Them ponies on the movies and shows are always usin' 'em! You pull the trigger and it goes kablam!" To act it out, she ducked behind a tree and held her hooves up beside her head, as though she was actually holding it.
"Since when does a gun go kablam?" the older asked her sister, eyes barely open. She quickly realized that Apple Bloom would actually answer the rhetorical question, so she hastily crammed a hoof up to her muzzle.
"Mmmph!" she said through her sister's muzzle, vibrating like a soda that had just been shook up. After it stopped, the orange mare removed her hoof. Much to her chagrin, Apple Bloom immediately started talking, again.
"But AJ, where'd the gun even come from? The sky?" she asked, pouting and looking up at the sky questioningly. A grin spread across her face and she piped up, "Oh, do you think aliens dropped it!?"
"No, and where it came from is obsolete," AJ, or Applejack, told her smaller sister. "And this ain't just any normal gun, sis. This is a nine-millimeter Glock," she specified, closing her eyes and speaking as though she was a teacher talking to a toddler. For once that morning, she was slightly smiling as she explained it. "With a nice and thick, rectangular barrel and comfortable grip, it's the perfect pistol. An' gettin' one for free is even better!"
Almost immediately, her spreading grin turned back to its natural frown. Apple Bloom put her hoof up to her chin again and told her sister "Wow. You sure know a lot about guns."
"A' 'course Ah do, we're the redneck stereotype of the show, remember?" she asked, incredulous that Apple Bloom didn't know. Then again, Apple Bloom didn't know anything, so it made sense.
"We are?" she asked stupidly.
"Well, duh, yeah! Big Mac's the burly, likable stallion, Granny's the crazy old hillbilly, and Ah'm the sexy farmer gal."
"Oh." Apple Bloom paused, looking up at her sister. "Wait a second, where do Ah fit in?"
Applejack threw a hoof into the air again, though this time it was a shrug. "Ah dunno, you're just an annoying little sister. Maybe you'd fit in as the inbred cousin."
At this, Apple Bloom let out a sigh of relief and wiped her brow. "Phew, so I'm not an orphan like Scootaloo."
"But you talk even more than Sweetie Belle," Applejack pointed out.
Before she could respond, Apple Bloom's face scrunched up as a thought came to her. "Sis, why are you bein' so grumpy today?"
Applejack rose an eyebrow. "Ah'm always annoyed by all you idiots. Ah just put up with it, besides with that crazy bitch, Pinkie Pie."
The filly was about to yell at her sister, but she lost her chance when Applejack started towards the direction of the barn, leaving her. "Hey, where are ya' goin, sis?"
She looked back, her top eyelids so lazily slumped that she looked like she was asleep. "Ta' show it to the girls, o' course," she said, as though it was obvious.
"Why?"
"Plot convenience," she responded simply before leaving Apple Bloom by her lonesome.
In which one clinically retarded horse (and one midget-overweight dragon) go 'hay'wire over a gun.
Applejack stood in front of Ponyville's main attraction, glistening, oversized candy canes and multi-colored gumdrops littering the gingerbread-house-like bakery's entrance. Painted in uncomfortably intense pinks and bland beiges, the building stuck out like a sore thumb — most ponies would make up some stupid pun about a 'sore hoof', but Applejack couldn't care less if she was held at gunpoint — though, that would be insinuating that the rest of the town wasn't already enough to make your eyes bleed. It was all just so bright and cheerful... it made the orange mare want to shoot herself, and she did have the means to do so. Hell, even her own barn had been painted a repulsively-bright red by Pinkie Pie, with its own little mural on the side that reminded Applejack of just how depressing the town was. In retrospect, Starlight's village seemed like a treat.
She shook her head, not wanting to think anymore of the aggravating town. Rather, she pondered on who she should show the gun to. Rarity would probably faint on a lush love seat, and Fluttershy would probably whisper some stupid shit about non-violence or some other retardation. There was nothing too bad about showing it to Pinkie Pie, which was what she was doing now, and Twilight would probably want to document it or some other egg-head matter. She wouldn't give it to Rainbow, though; she'd probably try to rob a bank with it.
Before she could even raise a hoof to knock the door, the (disgustingly) pink panel of wood swung open, an even pinker pony who looked as though she'd done a kilo of cocaine standing where it originally was. Applejack stopped herself from plugging her ears for the shrill, squeal voice that was to come, if only to be polite.
"Hiya AJ!" she practically screamed, immediately pulling her forward in the warm embrace of a hug, much to the victim of this assault's vexation. Still holding her, Pinkie Pie began talking (and talking and talking).
"I've been wondering when you'd show up because I saw earlier at the barn and so I thought to myself, 'hey Pinkie, she should come over', and so I said back to myself, 'hey, that's a good idea,' and so then I began cooking and I baked a couple dozen cupcakes for us to share but then it turned out that I accidentally ate them all, so I ran over to Twilight to see if she'd open a portal to the depths of Tartarus so I can use the Well of Ever-Coming, but she said that it was 'immoral', and so I said-"
"Pinkie," Applejack cut her off, breathing deeply and slowly, keeping a straight face. "I swear to fucking God, I will shoot you if you don't shut up."
"Oh silly, you mean Celestia!" she said, letting her go.
"No, I meant God," she said, brushing herself off from the speckles of glitter, flour, and strange white powder that clung to her chest from the ill-received hug. "Besides, Celestia doesn't even rise the sun. It's just plain damn science."
Pinkie's mouth opened in a silent 'O' before she began talking again. "Well, yeah, I know that, but what if she heard you? And also," she said, pointing a hoof at the camera shot and whispering, "you should probably keep the profanity to a low. What if our ratings go down for this?!"
"Oh, fuck the ratings." Applejack said, frown deepening. At this point, it had extended from her muzzle and off her face. She supposed that there was at least one good thing about Pinkie Pie, and that was how she was actually easy to speak to, surprisingly.
Unlike the other girls, she didn't make as many cringey puns and didn't go about their messed-up logic. She was somewhat tolerable. That didn't stop her from trying to be funny, however. Applejack had tried to explain to her numerous times that random doesn't equal funny, but Pinkie Pie keeps telling her that her randomness has context to it.
"Welp, Ah'll be seein' you then," Applejack said, trotting towards the door.
Behind her, Pinkie cocked her head. "Why leave so soon? We haven't even done anything fun!"
"Because the budget of the show can't afford to continue this scene for any long-
*** *** ***
"Applejack, you're here!" Twilight exclaimed, flashing into existence before the orange mare could even knock on the door of her crystal castle, the sun sending horrible glints off of every single jagged edge of its walls, much to her annoyance.
"How did ya even know Ah was here?" Applejack asked, her frown skeptical.
She grinned, pointing a hoof at one of the tower's balconies. "Well, I was watching for when Rarity would come over — we were supposed to share some spells together — until I saw you in the telescope! And in your hoof...?" she asked, neck unnaturally extending so that her head was level with Applejack's hooves. Indeed, she still clutched the Glock. She looked up and bit her lip, making it obvious that she wanted to know what it was.
"Ugh," Applejack groaned, "this is a nine-millimeter Glock that-"
"Wonderful!" Twilight cut in, snatching the thing in a field of levitation and galloping through the door, dragging Applejack along in a field of levitation. Her vision had become a hazy purple because of Twilight's magic to her dismay.
"Twilight, put me down..." she growled. Twilight looked up at her, paused, and her face went blank before lighting up again.
"Oh, I forgot! We can just teleport!" she stated. Before Applejack could tell her otherwise or resist, there was a blinding flash of light, and then blackness. Panicked, she looked around, but it was all just solid black. She could feel it engulfing her, pricking at her skin, a burning sensation. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help, or at least save herself, but there was nothing to buck at. She tried to yell, but her throat seemed like it had been tarnished with sandpaper, and-
Everything returned back to normal, and she was now surrounded by five-story-tall book shelves, all of them stocked. She stumbled momentarily, but quickly regained herself. "Woah..." She'd never been teleported before, and she couldn't say that she'd want to again.
That fear quickly turned to anger as she lashed out at Twilight, going muzzle-to-muzzle with the giddy, grinning mare. "Don't you ever do that again, Twahlight," she warned. The purple horse's eyes only went slightly apart before blinking. Then, as though someone had turned her back on, she jolted upwards and turned around, the Glock flashing into existence.
"Just give it back," Applejack said, her natural frown returning. Twilight, however, didn't look like she'd be doing this any time soon.
"Wow, I'm going to have to document this! Oh, Spiiiiiiike!" she called out. She turned to Applejack. "How does it work?"
As Applejack explained for the second time, the camera angle comically changed to where it was in the bottom of the weapon's barrel, Twilight's eye looking every which way. Applejack, noticing this, snatched the item before she could hurt herself.
"You dumb bitch, yer gonna shoot ya eye out!" she shouted at her. In response, Twilight just sat down on her flanks and did that weird, sleep-mode thing again, this time a fly landing on one of her eyes. Applejack was poking her before Twilight's dragon-slave appeared, wheezing from running all over the castle.
Only meeting up to the farmer's shoulders, the foolish purple dragon had to tilt his head up to look at the Glock that Applejack now held. Gasping, his eyes sparkled in awe as he squished his cheeks together with his claws.
"Sweet Celestia, is that-?" he asked, pointing at it with one stubby finger.
Applejack sighed. "Yes, Spike, its a gun."
"Aw, sweet!" he said, running over to get a closer look at it. "I've seen these in my comic books! The good guys will use them against the bad guys, and duck between covers, and go like-" he clasped his hands together in an imaginary gun "- pew, pew pew!"
Applejack's muzzle crinkled up in cringe from the little midget. Breathing in deeply to keep herself from laughing at him, she simply asked, "Since when does a gun go pew?"
"It does in the comic books!" he told her, jumping up and down trying to grab it.
Repulsed, Applejack shoved him away. "Get your grubby fucking claws away from me."
"C'mon, just lemme see it!" he said, grunting in exertion as he nearly touched it before gravity pulled him back down. Applejack just looked at the scene. Twilight sat on her flanks like a filly, now two flies on her eyes, and a midget-dragon was reaching for a pistol that Applejack was dangling over him.
She put a hoof to her face. "Jesus Christ, this show is getting more and more autistic with each season."
