The Melancholy Death of Apple Bloom
The Melancholy Death of Apple Bloom
“I…I just don’t get it Sis…how did Scootaloo just disappear? Why would she leave us?” Apple Bloom lamented as she carried another basket of her family’s eponymous fruit into the barn.
“Now remember what I told you Apple Bloom, shut up and let your sister relax,” Applejack admonished, “and don’t worry about yer little friend, I’m sure she’s fine…it’s not like she got exactly what she deserved or anything…” the mare had to suppress a small smile.
“But you’ve been drinkin’ all day Sis, and my back is starting to hurt again! You promised you’d help with chores for once!”
“I will, just as soons as I finish this mug o’ cider,”
“But you said that eight mugs ago!”
“Now sugar cube, what happens when Apple Bloom doesn’t shut her mouth and do as she’s told?”
“Apple Bloom gets a beatin’,” the filly sighed, looking down dejectedly.
“Exactly!” Her sister declared emphatically. “I guess there is somethin’ in that misshapen little skull of yours.”
“My head’s funny lookin?”
“Eeyup!” said Big Macintosh as he joined his sisters, sitting down next to Applejack, bottle of apple whiskey in hoof, giving her a wink. Just the other day Rarity had coached them in the art of working insults into every day conversation.
“It’s quite easy you see,” she’d explained as they sipped their drinks, lounging in the unicorn’s boutique, “just watch. Ahem. SWEETIE BELLE! GET YOUR HIDEOUS FACE IN HERE AND BRING ME ANOTHER SCOTCH!”
Applejack was hoping that if she made her sister hate herself enough she’d hang herself before her overworked body gave out and had to be disposed of. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to put a load of buckshot in the little filly’s face, it was simply a question of effort…if the kid killed herself then that would be that. If she suddenly disappeared a lot of awkward explanations would be required. Unlike Scootaloo, some ponies actually gave a fuck about Apple Bloom.
“Applejack…I’m startin’ to get a little sore!” the filly’s words betrayed excruciating pain, but she was as much a stubborn ass as her sister and would never let on that she was on the verge of collapsing. A.J. hoped this wouldn’t be the day that…
CRACK
Apple Bloom’s little leg snapped like a twig. Consarinit, thought Applejack, It had to be today…
“Um…oh no little sis are you okay?” A.J. wasn’t a very good actor. Big Mac wasn’t even trying, laughing hysterically as his sister writhed in pain.
“I think my leg’s busted!” Apple Bloom said through clenched teeth. Great. It had finally happened.
“Welp,” Big Macintosh said, “I’ll go get the shotg…”
“You mean the camera?” A.J. cut him off loudly, “yeah go get the camera Big Mac, and make sure it’s loaded.” She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Dammit, she ain’t as stupid as she looks!”
“Why a camera?” Apple Bloom’s pain was now muddled with confusion, “I need a doctor!”
“Er…um…of course, but first we gotta take your picture. Gotta have a picture of your first horrible accident…yup…it’s uh…an Apple family tradition!”
“Urgh…I didn’t know about that one…” the filly grunted, trying to stand. She managed to get up on three feet and hobble over to her sister.
“I’ve got the camera,” Big Mac said upon his return, “Er…we only had one roll of film so we have to make sure we get it right on the first shot, If you catch my drift.”
“Alright, well, why don’t we go and find a nice pretty spot in the woods…” A.J. picked Apple Bloom up by the scruff of her neck and the three inbreds headed off toward the forest.
“I think right here’s good enough…” Big Macintosh looked toward his sister. She nodded in assent and dropped Apple Bloom. They had made their way far enough into the trees that nopony would hear the gunshot. The little pony grunted as she hit the ground.
“C…can we j…just get this over with? I think I should go to the hospital.”
“Sure thing kid. Big Mac, could ya hand me the camera?”
“Nope, not yet, there’s something I gotta do first!” The stallion approached his younger sibling, who was now shuddering from shock and pain, but A.J. stopped him with a hoof to the chest.
“Oh no you randy jackass, this has to look like an accident,” she hissed.
“How’s a gunshot to the head gonna look like an accident,” Big Mac whispered.
“I was just gonna say we were a’huntin’ and I mistook her for a wild boar.”
“At point blank range?” Big Mac facehoofed, “that’s the worst cover story I ever heard…”
“Well in any case you ain’t rapin’ her. Now gimme the gun,” Applejack Muttered.
“That’s a b…big c…camera,” Apple Bloom remarked as her brother handed the shotgun to her sister, a hint of confusion flashing across her already contorted face.
“SAY CHEESE!”
“Ch…CHEESE!”
Two things happened at once. Applejack experienced what was probably the most violent drunken hiccup of her life, and the gun discharged. The shot was completely off. Apple Bloom squealed as the buckshot grazed the side of her skull, taking off one of her soft little ears. She fell to the ground, clutching her head and screaming in agony.
“CONSARNIT! And we ain’t got another cartridge, do we?” A.J. stomped a hoof in frustration.
“Nope.”
“Alright, now I gotta think…I hate doin’ that…” The cowpony stroked her chin, face screwed up, trying to get the neurons firing in her tiny redneck brain. Suddenly, she had an idea. “Hey Mac, you got your whiskey on ya?” A.J. had to raise her voice over the sound of her younger sister’s wailing.
“Eeyup”
“Give it here…”
Big Macintosh opened his saddle bag and pulled out the jug of apple whiskey and offered it to Applejack. She uncorked it and emptied the contents onto Apple Bloom. She screamed louder when the alcohol seeped into her gunshot wound.
“Now hold on just one second,” Big Mac said angrily, “I thought you needed to do some thinkin’ drinkin’! What’re you playin’ at? That stuff’s hard to make you know!”
“Got a match?” Applejack grinned.
“Oooooooh,” her brother finally comprehended the plan of action. He produced from his bag a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. He lit a smoke and then tossed the still burning match onto the booze-soaked filly, who erupted into flames.
“Big Macintosh!” A.J. Punched him in the shoulder, ignoring her flaming sister’s screams, “I thought you quit!”
“HELP ME OH CELESTIA MAKE THE HURT STOP!” Apple Bloom howled.
“Nope”
“HELP ME A.J. PLEASE!”
“Well, ya should quit, I get to worryin’ about yer health sometimes…”
Suddenly Apple Bloom got up and darted off toward Ponyville, pain and adrenaline allowing the burning filly to ignore her broken leg.
“Aww son of a bitch,” said Applejack.
Bon Bon and Lyra were sitting on their favorite bench on the edge of town, engaged in a platonic conversation that had nothing to do with humans or sitting posture. They were interrupted by a steadily growing noise.
“…aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
The blazing foal went streaking past them.
“See? PERFECT example!” Lyra said.
Apple Bloom had almost made it to the fountain in Ponyville square before she finally expired, her scorched lungs giving out.
“…so you see,” Applejack explained to the sheriff, “the little punk was makin’ drugs right under our noses, that’s how the explosion happened. We tried to save her but we just didn’t make it in time…”
“Kids these days!” The sheriff huffed. “Well, thank you Miss Applejack. I’ll be sending some officers over to Sweet Apple Acres to investigate. We can’t have this sort of thing catching on in our little town.”
“Sure thing!” Applejack grinned nervously. After the Sheriff left she took off running toward home.
“Where ya goin’ in such a hurry sis?” Big Macintosh ran after her.
“Shit I gotta go blow up my meth lab before the cops get there!”
