It's What's For Breakfast.
Buckin Eggs
A good decade or so ago when The Apple Family was still reeling in the wake of the loss of Bright Mac and Pear Butter, Big Mac and Applejack happened to pick up a habit that was simply atrocious for ponies their age to have. It wasn’t chewing tobacco, smoking marijuana with those Unicorn stoners, or Celestia forbid having anything to do with salt, but it was a bad habit nonetheless, and it was one that wore on Granny Smith’s nerves on a daily basis. Apple Bloom was too young to care, but an old fashioned old woman such as Granny could only take so much before she finally snapped.
One morning Applejack and Big Mac woke up, did their morning routines as usual, then met up in the living room since Granny wasn’t up to cook breakfast. Applejack kicked up her hooves on the couch while Big Mac occupied a chair nearby. “Ya always take the buckin’ couch, ya nag.” Big Mac grumbled.
“Well maybe if ya didn’t spend so much Lunadamn time gruntin’ in the buckin’ shower, ya’d be done first.” Applejack countered. “What the buck are ya even doin’ in there anyway, pizzaface?”
Big Mac colored and coughed. “Don’t buckin’ worry about it, sploogerag.”
“You keep sayin this new shit like I’m supposed to buckin’ understand it.
“Maybe if ya weren’t stupid ya’d get it.”
“Are ya really talkin’ shit? We’re in the same buckin’ grade and you’re three years older than me!”
“Oh yeah? Well you done flashed half the fillies in your buckin’ class! They saw it all!”
Applejack blush bright red and scrambled over to pummel her brother, and while they were in the middle of their sibling skirmish, Granny Smith came from her room tiredly, her bones aching and that damn nerve in her hip giving her trouble certainly didn’t help. She could already hear the brother-sister duo squabbling from her room, so she figured that she’d better go separate them before getting Apple Bloom up and at the table for breakfast. After quickly dispelling the first squabble of the day with the threat of a few whacks from her switch, Applejack and Macintosh fell in line.
Granny Smith went back to Apple Bloom’s room to retrieve her and the siblings started at it all over again. “What do you think Miss Crab Apple is like away from Shithole? I can’t imagine she’s nice to her husband.” Applejack mused.
“I dunno. I bet she’s a nag to everyone though. She’s a real cunt, isn’t she?” Big Mac replied.
“I don’t know what crawled up her flank and died, but it musta been somethin’ big and smelly.” The orange filly giggled.
Big Mac chuckled, his voice cracking as he did so. “Huh. That was buckin’ weird.”
“Sure was. Any chance that stick in your flank scratched your throat?”
“Should I kick yours to see if I can bruise the apples?” Big Mac grumbled.
“Come at me, dummy! I’ll kick you between the legs and make you cry again!”
They started toward each other at the exact moment Granny Smith came back into view to see them. “Oh no you don’t! Y’all whippersnappers sit down and be quiet until I get little Apple Bloom saddled in for breakfast!”
“Yes Granny.” The troublesome pair murmured.
“Good.” The old mare sniffed. She took the time to get Apple Bloom seated and ready for the meal before getting into the kitchen. “Alright you two, what do ya want for breakfast?”
“Ooh, ooh! How about some buckin grits!” Applejack exclaimed.
Granny’s eye twitched at the dirty language. “Young filly, if I hear ya talk like that again, you’re grounded, got it?”
“Aw buck, really!?” Big Mac gasped. “That’s pretty shit, sis.”
“Hey! That goes for you too, colt!” Granny snapped.
Big Mac shut up and looked at the table. “Sorry Granny.”
The old woman sniffed. “I don’t see why y’all done taken to swearin’ like sailors all the time, but I ain’t havin’ it!”
“Yes ma’am.” The foul-mouthed duo said dutifully.
Granny nodded curtly. “Mmhmm! Now, what do ya want for breakfast?”
“Well, how about some flapjacks or some shit?” Big Mac suggested.
Granny Smith sighed. “You’re grounded for a week, Mac. Watch your mouth.”
Big Macintosh was confused since Granny had told him that he was ground for a week many times. She’d told him that he was ground yesterday and the day before that, and the da before that, but she never said which week he was supposed to be grounded. He didn’t think it mattered much since he could probably tell Granny that his week was up in a few days since she was starting to go a little batty, but it would only work if Applejack confirmed it. A quick glance out is sister told im that he was in the clear.
They hoof-bumped in the face of adversity like the troopers they were and Granny trotted back and forth in the kitchen for a while, occasionally grabbing things to make breakfast. “Alright. Ya got grits and flapjacks.”
“How ‘bout some buckin’ eggs?” Applejack asked.
Granny smith closed her eyes and counted to ten forward and backward before replying. “I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t think I heard ya quite right.”
“I said how about some buckin’ eggs?” Applejack repeated a little louder.
Granny came out of the kitchen and gave Applejack a smile that sent a chill down her spine and made her tail twitch when it reached the tip of her spine. It was an odd sensation coming from her grandmother and she rather hoped that she hadn’t just made a huge mistake. She didn’t know what she could possibly done. All she’d asked for was eggs; something they’d and a million and a half times before .
“I beg your pardon, sweetie?” Granny said, a smile creeping onto her face.
Applejack glanced at Big Mac, but all he offered her was a shrug and no hope of getting out of the situation, so she weakly answered her grandmother with, “I-Is somethin’ wrong Granny? We don’t gotta have no buckin’ eggs-”
“Ah!” Granny said sharply, coming close to Applejack. When she was close enough to touch her granddaughter wither her hoof, she gave her a stern look to beat all stern looks. “Alright, Applejack. I’m gonna ask ya one more time and I want ya ta pick your words real careful. Think a’ each letter, slot it into place, and then let it come to ya, ‘cause ya should know what you’re doin’ wrong by now.”
Applejack was a little terrified.
“Alright, Applejack.” Granny said slowly. “What do ya want for breakfast?”
Applejack thought hard about her response, brainstorming like never before on an impossible question for an answer she was still quite unsure of. She continued to think, but she couldn’t find anything wrong with her previous responses, so she tried a different avenue. “... I’d like some buckin’ eggs-”
Granny slapped her before she could get the ‘please’ out. “Alright. Next filly or colt that swears in my house is gettin’ slapped twice. Anymore cussin, swearin’, cursin’, or dirty language is gonna get ya slapped! Am I understood!?”
Applejack rubbed her aching cheek and Big Mac winced as they said, “Yes ma’am.”
Granny nodded. “That’s what I thought.” She looked at Big Mac. “Alright Mac. What do ya want.”
Big Mac looked at his grandmother with fear in his eyes. “Sure as Tartarus not no buckin’ eggs.”
Author's Note
A modified version of a story my Dad used to tell me as a kid. Props to my old man for letting me steal his ideas.
As Always, Stay Cool, Kids.
