Another Wednesday, another lunch date.
Date.
Heck of a word, that. With perhaps uncharacteristic exactitude, Applejack mused over the meaning of the d-word as she munched on her salad. Did it still count as a date if it were routine? For months now, Applejack and Rarity had met at the same table, at the same cafe, on the same day of the week (excepting those days when one or the other was out of town, or when the fate of Equestria hung in the balance, which was an alarmingly common occurrence).
Still, despite the regularity of it all, Applejack found her lunch time with Rarity to be a much-needed respite from the bustle and stress of the working week. Applejack knew the lunch date was even more important to Rarity, as the unicorn told her. Repeatedly.
“You wouldn't believe how busy I've been, darling.” Rarity said.
“Reckon I would.” Applejack said with a wry grin. “I mean, I'd be worried if you didn't have a whole passel of stuff to work on.”
“I know, I know, I'm a workaholic. Which is something of a matter of the pot calling the kettle black, you know. Applebucking season is coming up, isn't it? You're just waiting for the chance to run yourself ragged. Again.” Rarity said with pointed concern.
“Hey now, this frog ain't gotta get thrown in the same pond twice.”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“What I mean is I learned my lesson a long while back.” Applejack smiled anyway. “Trust me, Rarity. You'll be the first pony I ask for help if I need it.”
“You'll ask me before you need help.” Rarity huffed, and set her now-empty wineglass back on the table. “I will be more than happy to help in any way I can, even if things get ... messy. No buts, dearest. I insist. Once the harvest's done, I'll have to find ... some way for you to make it up to me.” Rarity fluttered her eyelashes.
Applejack unconsciously recalled the memory of a perfumed white coat beneath her hooves, between her--
“Um.” She shook her head. Not that the memories weren't pleasant ones, but there was a time and place for that sort of thing. A time and place other than the most popular cafe in Ponyville during the lunch rush. “ANYWAY.” Applejack drained her pilsner, hoping the cool liquid could somehow quench the blush rising on her face. “Weren't you talkin' 'bout how busy you were? Lotsa ... sewin' and stitchin', right?”
“Like you wouldn't believe!” Rarity said, always eager to talk about her business. “Why, I probably got more commissions last night during the soiree at Twilight's Castle than I did during the last month prior! Pity you couldn't make it.”
“Sorry.” Applejack said, splaying her ears back. “If I'd known it was so important to ya--”
“Pish posh!” Rarity waved one hoof, dismissively. “As lovely as your company would have been, I fear you might have been ... distracting. I was busy enough as is. All those foreign dignitaries were quite eager to see my work, you know. There was even a dragon there! Surprisingly talkative fellow-- not at all like Spike, but then again, who is? Still, between Twilight's school, and my own growing business, Ponyville is becoming a destination. Which isn't to say that Sweet Apple Acres isn't charming in its own right, mind you-- why, you're the economic backbone of the town! Not to mention the gastronomic one. But I'm rambling! The important part is that I ran into none other than Silver Lining!”
“She sounds kinda familiar. What's she famous for?”
“Being famous.”
“Say what now?”
“It's ... complicated. But you'd like her! Silver Lining's quite the optimist, you know. Perhaps ... too optimistic. As she offered me a rather ... large amount of money to make her a custom gown. Which normally wouldn't be much trouble, but Silver Lining has very ... specific requirements. Why, she was very insistent on the construction of her ... flappy bit.”
“Her what?” Applejack blinked, unsure if she should have been scandalized or not.
Rarity blinked, just as puzzled as the cowpony. “Oh, you know. The ... flappy ... bit.” As the words left her lips, Rarity blanched, as if she'd bitten into an enticing-but-rotten piece of fruit. “I mean, er ... the ... little bit of cloth that you fasten over your tail?”
“Oh! That thing! Why didn't you say so?”
“I ... tried to.” Rarity murmured, and looked down into her wineglass. “But for the life of me I can't ... remember the proper term.”
“Now who's burnin' the candle at both ends?” Applejack said. “You gotta get more sleep, darlin'. You're gettin' loopy.”
“I know, I know.” Rarity's shoulders slumped. “It's just that things have been so busy ... “
“That's life for ya.” Applejack leaned across the table to put a hoof onto Rarity's. “Tell ya what, go on n' finish your story. I know you love talkin' 'bout your work even iffin' I don't know half of what you're talkin' 'bout.”
“Thank you, Applejack. I think.” Rarity smiled anyway. “But, well, to make a long story short, the construction of Silver Lining's dress is going to be quite the challenge. She was very insistent on the number of ... “
“Number of what?”
Rarity's smile faltered. “The number of ... round ... thingies. The round thingies for the flappy bit.”
“You mean a button?”
“Yes.” Rarity said, seizing on the word like a life jacket. “Exactly! A ... round thingie.” She blinked, then shook her head. “I meant a round thingie. No! A round thingie.” The unicorn grew more and more frantic with each repitition, tears of frustration welling up at the corners of her eyes.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa-- slow down, Rarity!” Applejack circled around the table and put a comforting (or at least she hoped it'd be comforting) hoof upon the designer's shoulder. “It's going to be alright.”
“No, it won't!” Rarity wailed, even as she flopped onto Applejack. “I can't ... I can't think of the words, Applejack. Or when you correct me it's like ... it's like I can't even say them. If I can't use the proper terms, how will anyone ever take me seriously as a ... as a ... pony-pants maker?”
Rarity's eyes went horror-wide, and she broke down into incoherent sobs.
“It's alright!” Applejack said, mostly by reflex. “You're just tired, is all. All you need's a good nap and you'll be right as rain, lemme tell you.”
“No!” Rarity snapped her head up. “I'm not tired, Applejack. I ... it's ... it's like there's a hole in my ... in my head-organ. And every time I open my mouth it gets bigger!”
Applejack put a hoof to Rarity's lips. “Then don't say a damn thing. Just calm down, and then both of us can go see Twilight-- I'm sure she's got a book somewhere that says exactly what's wrong with ya, an exactly how to fix it.”
Rarity smiled, if weakly, and nodded.
Applejack didn't bother knocking on the door to Twilight's crystal castle-- even if it wasn't an emergency, she'd passed the 'drop in anytime!' level of friendship years ago. Rarity followed close alongside, keeping her lips resolutely sealed.
“Twilight?” Applejack's voice echoed through the high-vaulted halls. “You home? We got a situation, here.”
“Uh, hi.” Spike poked his head out from around a corner. “Funny that you mention that, because, um, we ... kind of have a situation here, too.”
“You do?” Applejack said. “What happened?”
“Brain problem situation!” Twilight nearly trampled Spike as she rushed towards her friends. Applejack recognized the wild-maned, eye-twitching expression on Twilight's face as the princess verged on breakdown.
“No can word right!” Twilight said, and grimaced at the butchered syntax.
“Me do word bad too!” Rarity wailed, and set to sobbing anew.
“Oh no!” Twilight said. “Brain problem situation go to other pony! What if whole town am head-sick?”
“How long has she been like this?” Applejack said.
“Since just after breakfast.” Spike said. “It all started when she couldn't remember the word “refrigerator” and it all went downhill from there.”
“Huh.” Applejack rubbed at her chin, looking between Twilight and Rarity. “So it ain't just Rarity. But you n' me are talkin' just fine. Maybe it's a unicorn thing?”
“Maybe?” Spike shrugged. “Twilight and I have been digging through the library for hours, and we haven't found anything.”
“Doctor book no help!” Twilight's voice wavered at the betrayal.
“Welp.” Applejack said. “Ain't like this is our first rodeo. C'mon, let's go see Zecora.”
“You cannot find the right word? This is a problem, of which I've heard.”
Zecora circled around Twilight, regarding her with a critical eye. She put a hoof to the princess' mouth and gently guided it open, squinting a bit to peer down her throat.
“Whew!” Applejack smiled, and looked over at Twilight and Rarity. “See? I toldja Zecora would know what's goin' on.”
“Make talk work better now please?” Rarity said-- the first words she'd let slip from her lips since leaving Twilight's palace. Spike had stayed behind to keep at his research, leaving the three ponies to make their way down the now-familiar path to Zecora's arcane-yet-cozy hut.
“As much as I would like to help you, dear-- things will be harder than that, I fear. The problem that lays before us, is that you have been struck by a Thesaurus.”
“You sayin' somebody threw a book at them two?” Applejack said. “That's what knocked 'em silly?”
“Not a book, but a creature. One with quite a fearsome feature. This beast's favorite source of nutrition, is to feed on others' erudition.”
Applejack blinked. “Do what now?”
“It eat word!” Twilight said, both horrified and fascinated. “How do?”
“The reptile gets inside your head-- and that is how it gets fed. Once it makes a psychic link, of your thoughts, it does drink.”
“Hold up-- where'd this Thesaurus feller come from!”
“Fancy party!” Rarity blurted in terrible realization. “Big lizard at fancy party!”
“Her am right!” Twilight nodded. “Big lizard talk lots!”
“Once the psychic link is made, your words and thoughts begin to fade. If the Thesaurus feeds too long, then your power of speech will be gone.”
Twilight and Rarity whimpered in unison.
Applejack narrowed her eyes. “That ain't happenin'.” She paced back and forth, brow furrowed in thought. “Y'all know what this thing is, Zecora-- y'all know how to stop it?”
“The Thesaurus is the reason I speak in rhyme-- it protects a pony, at least sometimes. The couplets give my words a flavor, that Thesaureses do not favor.
“So we just gotta talk poetry at it?”
Zecora shook her head, sadly.
“The rhyming only keeps the beast away-- to fix our friends, we need a different way.”
“So ... lemme get this straight. We got some kinda magic brain-lizard that's slurpin' up Rarity n' Twilight's vocabulizin' like a strawberry milkshake, right?”
Zecora nodded.
“And I bet he's happier than a pig in slop right now, 'cause there ain't anypony in town who likes usin' ten-dollar words more than them two.” Applejack nodded over at Rarity and Twilight-- and then blinked as the epiphany hit her. “And that's it!”
“What it?” Twilight turned her head to the side.
“I think I've got a way to fix this.”
“Sexy pony save us brains?” Rarity blurted-- and then immediately started blushing (either from the oversharing or the butchered grammar, depending on one's perspective).
“But first, we gotta get back to Ponyville.” Applejack said, and tried to ignore the blush threatening to rise in her own cheeks.
“Why us go back town-place?” Twilight said.
“Because, Twilight, I need you to give me a dictionary, and I need Rarity to give me a makeover.”
Applejack had set hoof in the untamed wilds of the Everfree Forest many times before, and she imagined she'd brave the dark wilderness for many times to come.
She'd never forayed into the Everfree wearing an evening gown, however.
Applejack stumbled a half-step as she got one of her hind legs caught up in her skirts. Rough and rocky dirt trails were a far cry from a ballroom's dance floor, after all. Applejack had at least drawn the line at high heels-- and for once, Rarity hadn't argued.
Applejack wished she had.
Of course, assuming everything went to plan, Rarity would be back to her typical eloquence in no time. If it didn't ...
Applejack shook her head, and then took a moment to push a curl of blonde hair back into her meticulously coiffured hairdo. Apart from the lack of heels, Applejack looked every inch the Manehattan socialite. She wore a sleek, shimmery-black dress, a tasteful silver necklace, and her mane swept and twisted up into a style that added several inches to her already not-inconsiderable height. The necklace was the most important part of her outfit, pulsing faintly with magical energy, leading Applejack deeper and deeper into the forest.
While Twilight's vocabulary diminished with every word she spoke, her magical skills were as potent as ever, which had allowed her to enchant the jewelry. “Neck-shiny say where big lizard am!” Twilight had explained (or at least tried to).
As far as Twilight's magical lecturing went, it was downright straightforward. Applejack had been kind enough not to mention this at the time.
And so, guided by the magicked necklace, Applejack went further and further into the Everfree. As she expected, she didn't have to go far to find the Thesaurus-- after gorging itself on Rarity and Twilight's respective lexicons, the draconian creature had settled down to nap in a secluded meadow.
Applejack stared at the slumbering creature for a long moment; for something that had caused so much trouble, it looked frankly ridiculous. If Applejack didn't know any better, she would've mistaken the Thesaurus for a particularly skinny dragon. Bigger than a pony, yet shorter than Discord, the serpentine creature lay curled up in a ball, snoring a content snore.
Unlike most dragons she'd met, however, the Thesaurus wore clothing: a tweed jacket, a mortarboard hat (complete with tassel), and a set of pince-nez spectacles perched at the end of its snout. Its scales were a of a yellowed white, the color of aged paper. No wonder Twilight had talked to it.
“Welp.” Applejack murmured to herself, “Here goes nothin'.”
And she stepped on the Thesaurus' tail.
Immediately, the reptile reared up, sputtering and flailing. “Assault! Battery! What kind of ruffian dares assail me while I take my sylvan reprieve!?” It's-- no, his voice was deep and refined-- at least, as deep and refined as one could be after being rudely awoken.
Applejack neatly stepped backwards, avoiding the Thesaurus' whipping tail, and affected an expression of shocked ignorance. “Oh, bother.” She said.
This, Applejack knew, would be the hard part. For as much as she'd love to simply knock the stuffing out of the Thesaurus for what he had done, she knew that wouldn't help her friends get their voices back. Instead, she dredged up every memory she could of her time staying with the Orange family in Manehattan, as well as every conversation she'd had with Rarity (not to mention the arguments, though the lines there tended to blur more often than not), in order to put on the poshest, most refined accent she possibly could.
“My apologies, good sir.” Applejack said, even as the words felt strange and alien in her mouth. “It was my fault entirely-- I was merely admiring the pastoral tableau, when I happened to tread upon your appendage.”
The Thesaurus clutched the end of his tail and peered at Applejack, curious-- and intrigued. “Ah. My apologies, miss. I wouldn't have raised such a hue and cry if I'd known it was an ingenue such as yourself disturbing my momentary dormancy. Though I suppose one can forgive my consternation, as one would hardly expect such a thing in the middle of untrammeled wilderness.”
“Oh, you must forgive me, dear sir. As I ... may have endeavored to seek you out specifically.”
“Specifically, you say? Whatever for?”
Applejack smiled her most vapid smile, and launched into a speech she'd been practicing in her head for the last few hours. She spoke slowly, carefully, over-enunciating each syllable, tortuously twisting her tongue in ways antithetical to her normal habits of speech.
“I fear I was unable to attend a soiree at the Princess' castle last night-- prior obligations, you understand –but no sooner had the party ended, that Princess Twilight herself sent me a missive-- she's quite the advocate of epistolary correspondence, you know-- informing me that she had met quite the scintillating conversationalist.” Applejack paused for breath, and tried to remember the rest of the words she'd picked out of Twilight's dictionary, based on length. “Once I read what Twilight had to say, I knew I just had to meet such a fascinating being for myself. It's so very rare to meet someone with such a level of refinement in a backwater such as Ponyville, after all.”
The Thesaurus blinked, smiled, and with the briefest flicker of a forked tongue, wet his lips. “You are correct in that assertation, yes. It is rare-- especially given the fact that I myself am a rare, singular creature-- quite far from my normal habitat, I might add. But, I long ago came to the conclusion that my life was to be one of transient meanderings, so I might best share my particular gift of erudition with the world. But, lest I prattle on for too long, let's talk about you, my lovely little poppet.”
The Thesaurus uncoiled itself, looming over Applejack. She grit her teeth through her vapid smile, doing her best to ignore the way her skin crawled under the Thesaurus' hungry gaze.
“Oh, me?” Applejack said, “I'm nopony of particular interest, I'm afraid. Just another young socialite without the proper outlets to ... socialize.” Applejack cleared her throat. “But, if nothing else, I suppose Ponyville's relative obscurity is something of an upside-- gives one plenty of time to read, you know. Princess Twilight has made it a point to stock her library in a most comprehensive manner. Does wonders for one's vocabulary, if nothing else.”
“Ah.” The Thesaurus shuddered, in barely-contained-pleasure. “Elucidate. Please.”
“Well, Princess Twilight is quite proud of her reading, especially in the realm of certain rare and esoteric texts. Why, one can barely associate with her for any period of time before one begins to pick up a veritable cornucopia of new words--” As Applejack spoke, she felt the Thesaurus' presence grow heavier, as if his shadow somehow had weight. If she didn't know what to look for, she would've just put it off as a passing feeling of unease, but Zecora's tales of how the Thesaurus fed told her just what she needed to look for. She prattled on, and with each multi-syllabic word, the Thesaurus edged closer. Applejack felt as if a long, slimy tongue had curled itself around her brain, constricting it, forcing her to keep talking, squeezing the very words out of her--
Finally.
“--but sometimes I ain't got the faintest idear of what she's talkin' bout.” Applejack let her aristocratic affectations fall away, and she instantly felt much, much lighter.
The Thesaurus blinked. “Beg pardon?”
“I said, sometimes I ain't got the faintest idear of what Twilight's talkin' 'bout. When it comes to fancified speechifyin', that gal likes givin' out big words like they're gonna spoil by the end of the week.”
The Thesaurus blanched. “What ... what are you doing?”
“What am I doin'? I'm conversatin', that's what. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?”
The Thesaurus clutched at its belly, and let out a gassy, uncomfortable belch. “Stop it! Stop this preposterous dialect!”
“Why should I? This is how I like to talk. Nice and straightforward-- none of this highfalutin' nonsense.” Applejack grinned, and took a step forward. “I mean, sure, some folks just got to be fancy, sometimes-- Twilight's got her magic, Rarity's got her fashion, and I reckon there's plenty of ... special words that ya gotta use then. But you? Way I figure, y'all just like to talk fancy to make yourself feel important, don'tcha?”
The Thesaurus backpedaled, hissing and glaring. “You shall cease this chicanery this instant, or else the consequences shall be dire!”
“Uh huh.” Applejack said with a wry smirk. “You're bluffin', and you know it. 'cause right now, you're lookin' sicker than a sailor's dog on shore leave. Just the way I figured you would.”
“Explain yourself!”
“Oh, ain't much explainin' to be done. Way I figure, it's just like mixin' cheap whiskey n' fine champagne-- either one's fine on its own, but if you try drinkin' 'em together, that's a one-way ticket to sickville. I mean, you are what you eat, right? So with you tryin' to eat my brain or whatever, I figured I'd just give ya more down-home cookin' than you could handle. A lot more.”
“I ain't—” The Thesaurus' eyes went wide in horror, and it clapped its claws to its muzzle. “I ... I'm not--”
“Well, shoot!” Applejack yokeled. “Lookit you! At this rate, y'all gonna be talkin' like a good ol' pony in no time at all! Yes sirree. Y'all ever been to a hoedown? I bet you'll fit right in. Might have to get you a different hat, though.”
The Thesaurus staggered backwards as if he had been struck, then braced one claw against a tree. He opened his mouth to reply, but only a sick, retching sound came out.
“'Course, it don't have to be this way. All you gotta do is give my friends their words back, and promise to never set foot in Equestria again, and I won't have to keep crammin' country wisdom down your ... aw shoot, what's the word?” Applejack said, surprising herself.
“Gullet?” The Thesaurus said, weakly.
“That's it!” Applejack said, albeit with forced confidence. “Shoot, y'all's scarfin' down my words already, ain't ya? You're like ... like a ... “
“Like Granny Smith at the early-bird buffet?” The Thesaurus gave a queasy groan.
“Exactly!”
“Fine! Whatever you want! Anything to make it stop!” The Thesaurus reeled again, and Applejack felt the slimy, hungry tendril wrapped around her brain slither away. The tweed-clad reptile then bent over double, opened its fanged mouth, and puked on the forest floor. The Thesaurus' sides heaved and heaved as it vomited up a steady stream of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and entirely too many adverbs.
Applejack blinked at the surreal display-- she almost felt sorry for the Thesaurus as it choked out polysyllabic words (including, ironically, the word polysyllabic itself). The words splattered onto the grass, lingering there like the world's grossest learning aid before they dissolved away, leaving little but foul-smelling puddles in their wake.
Some time later, the stream of words ended with a splatter of conjugations. The Thesaurus dry heaved a few times, then finally looked up at Applejack with bleary, defeated eyes.
“That all of it?”
The Thesaurus nodded, shoulders slumping in nauseous defeat.
“Alright then, git.” Applejack said. “But remember, iffin' you're lyin', or iffin my friends ain't back to normal next time I see 'em, I'm comin' for you. And next time, I'm bringin' my friend Pinkie.”
And that was that.
By the time Applejack got back to Ponyville, it was getting dark. She still wore her fancy gown, though the forest itself did quite a number on it with various pointy twigs and spatters of mud. Zecora, Twilight, and Rarity waited for Applejack on the edge of the forest.
As soon as Applejack emerged from the treeline, Twilight spoke. “Did it work? Wait-- I can speak properly again! I think it worked!” She laughed, triumphantly.
“Applejack!” Rarity cried out a moment later, flinging herself onto the surprised cowpony. “You beautiful, marvelous, courageous pony! You're a hero! A champion! A veritable legend amongst ponies!” She savored the words as she spoke them, and pulled Applejack into a more-than-friendly hug.
“I am sure the conflict was heated, but I assume the beast's defeated?” Zecora said.
Applejack looked over Rarity's shoulder and nodded to the zebra.
“Darling?” Rarity paused. “You're not saying anything-- unless –no! No! That foul creature hasn't stolen your voice now, has it? Oh, I knew we shouldn't have let you go out all alone! Oh, Applejack, whatever have you--”
“I'm fine, Rarity.” Applejack said with a rueful grin. “And trust me, that Thesaurus feller ain't gonna show his scaly face 'round here anytime soon.”
“But however did you do it? You must tell us-- you must!”
“And I will. Eventually. But right now, I think I've done more than enough talkin' for one day already.”
