Pinkie Pie leaned down, her chef hat somehow not dislodging even though her head had disappeared completely into the oven. “Applejack is going to loooooove this apple spice cake. Because apples. I can’t wait to take this over to Sweet Apple Acres, where Applejack will tell me this story that’s happening now!”
And so she went over to Sweet Apple Acres to hang out with Applejack.
Applejack opened the door when Pinkie knocked. “I’m so excited you’re here, I can’t wait to tell you this story!”
They sat down on opposite sides of the kitchen table, and Pinkie cut into the cake with a knife she pulled out of her mane along with two plates. Applejack took a big bite of the cake and said with her mouth full, “You know what would go great with this cake? Apple cider.”
Pinkie winked and said, “Because apples!”
“Besides,” Applejack said, “I’m gonna need to wet my whistle if’n I’m gonna tell you this craaaaazy story!”
Applejack jumped to her hooves and filled two wooden mugs with cider from a keg she kept on the counter. She balanced them on her back as she trotted back to the table. “It starts with me collecting a bunch of rattlesnakes.”
Applejack looked at the gold pocketwatch, then back at the map. With a nod, she put them both back in her saddlebags and squinted into the setting sun. She grabbed her two bags of snakes and dumped one into the middle of the road, then took off at a gallop for the other location marked on her map.
By the time she’d reached the other ‘X’ she could hear a stagecoach rumbling its way across the unpaved road. She quickly looked around for a hiding spot, and dumped the second bag of snakes before diving behind a strange-looking bush that seemed like a hybrid between cactus and tumbleweed.
Applejack watched intently as the pair of stallions pulling the stagecoach neared the pile of rattlesnakes. They suddenly saw the ridiculous quantity of snakes in front of them, and whinnied in panic, galloping also in panic.
As they galloped away, they were paying more attention to where the snakes were than where they were, and ran into the other stallions pulling the other stagecoach who were doing the same thing.
The stagecoaches collided, and a wheel on each stagecoach broke with a pair of resounding cracks.
As the sun set, all four stallions looked around, and came to the realization that the entire area was infested with rattlesnakes. Each set of stallions turned to their respective stagecoach to inform the occupants of the situation.
Braeburn stuck his head out of one stagecoach, and Cherry Jubilee stuck her head out of the other one. They saw the snakes. They saw each other. Braeburn cleared his throat. “How about I stay in here until you guys start a fire.”
Cherry Jubilee shouted, “That sounds good to me!” and went back into her coach.
Once a pair of fires were roaring, the four stallions who had been pulling the stagecoaches gathered around one of the fires and started eating beans and chilling, cowboy-style. Cherry Jubilee and Braeburn sat on opposite sides of the other fire.
Cherry Jubilee nodded toward Braeburn. “So, what do you do?”
“With a name like Braeburn, I’d think you’d know I grow apples. Like I assume you grow cherries.”
Cherry laughed. “Haha, I guess so.”
“Ummm, so, orchard stuff. Because we both grow trees.”
Cherry giggled.
Pinkie says, “How did you convince all those rattlesnakes to stick around? Did you feed them?”
Applejack tilted her head and looked sideways at Pinkie.
“I wonder what a rattlesnake’s favorite dessert is?”
Applejack peeked out of the cactus-tumbleweed bush and listened to the ponies talking. Whenever there was a lull in the conversation, she whispered “cherry apple cider.”
After a few times of this, Cherry Jubilee said to Braeburn, “Hey, what do you think about making some cherry apple cider? You know, you grow apples, I grow cherries, let’s do this!”
Applejack laughed maniacally. “It was the perfect plan to bring my cousin and my friend together!”
Pinkie squinted and said, “I question the validity of this story.”
Braeburn and Cherry Jubilee sat next to each other in front of the fire, and spoke through the night about what the best cherries and apples would be to go into a cider. They settled on sweet apples and tart cherries.
Then Braeburn winked at her and said, “I bet your cherries are tart.”
She blushed and pushed him over.
He fell onto a snake.
The snake made snake noises (like rattling) and slunk away. Braeburn made horse noises and jumped into Cherry Jubilee’s forehooves.
Pinkie’s ears perked up as her eyes widened. “Did they look deeply into each others’ eyes?”
Applejack said, “I’m tellin’ this story!”
Then they looked deeply into each others’ eyes.
Pinkie held her hooves to her cheeks and said, “Did they then dramatically look away”—she tossed her head dramatically, her hair whipping across her face—“because it was just too much?”
Applejack tugged her hat tighter onto her head. “I thought I said I was the one tellin’ this story!”
And then they looked away (dramatically) because it was just too much.
When dawn came, Applejack stretched behind her bush and looked over at the stagecoaches. Both wheels were fixed, and Braeburn and Cherry Jubilee were talking.
Applejack watched as Braeburn helped Cherry Jubilee into her stagecoach and looked up into her eyes. He smiled and asked her, “So, how about I ride with you to Dodge Junction? I reckon if we’re gonna make this cider, I’d like to taste your cherries. But literally, not dirty like it sounds”
Pinkie asked, “Are you suuuuuure it wasn’t dirty?”
