Apples Of Inspiration, And Their Effects On Time And Relative Dimensions In Space
Toon Physics; Not just for Pinkie anymore?
Pinkie Pie was working the counter at Sugarcube Corner when the bells over the front door jingled. She looked up from her cash register to see who was there.
It was Dr. Time Turner. Pinkie cringed inside and hoped Doc didn’t notice. She really liked Doc, but he asked too many questions.
Doc possessed possibly the most brilliant and inventive mind in all of Equestria. He’d figured out more about the nature of time than anypony, including unicorns who had actually used time travel spells. Unfortunately, he’d recently come to suspect that time wasn’t the fourth dimension after all. Even more unfortunate was that Doc now suspected Pinkie secretly knew something about this.
Doc was thinking all the time. He had a wry wit that Pinkie found irresistible, and she was sure that the wit she heard aloud was a small fraction of the wit occuring inside his head. Pinkie wasn’t the only one who thought this - Applejack had once described Doc’s personality as “frisky,” then added that if Doc acted as frisky as a colt at play then his thoughts had to be more like a herd of them just let out of school.
It was wonderful, but it was also terrifying. What would happen if Doc, with his unique and powerful mind, discovered the Fourth Wall and the secrets of what hid behind it? Pinkie didn’t want to find out. Doc wouldn’t necessarily use the knowledge to accidentally build a doomsday device then get distracted and leave it someplace where anypony could get their hooves on it; but Pinkie wouldn’t bet any bits against this.
There were some secrets most of ponykind were not meant to know, this included macro-scale quantum phenomena. And Pinkie did not believe Doc would act responsibly to that causey-wausey effecty-wecty stuff.
Doc had been pumping Pinkie for information for almost a week, and she didn’t think she could continue to evade and deflect much longer. She was, after all, a complete blabbermouth.
Doc began to approach Pinkie, but he suddenly noticed something and he stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes grew wide with excitement. Whatever it was it made Doc forget all about Pinkie. She followed Doc’s gaze to see what it was.
It was just Big Mac delivering a load of apples.
Doc ran to the huge stallion’s side. “I say, Mr. MacIntosh, could I ask you a few questions?”
“Um...sure…” answered Big Mac uncertainly.
“It’s just that I’ve heard of the legendary ability of apple orchards to provide inspiration, and this fascinates me.” Doc was so excited he was speaking so swiftly he was barely intelligible. “It’s a phenomenon I would dearly love to experience. Inventors, creators, even poets have all had their greatest moments of brilliance while strolling through the fruit trees. Clover the Clever even formulated her first theories on the nature of gravity after a falling apple struck her on the head. Could you tell me of any similar experiences you’ve had personally?”
“Um...maybe…” Big Mac began to edge his way towards the door.
“Excellent!” cried Doc, following Big Mac uncomfortably closely. “I expect you have many fine stories to tell. Please do proceed, and spare no details!”
“Well..I’ve had a few notions….” If Big Mac thought he would escape from Doc by being non committal he was sadly mistaken.
“Yes, yes, do begin your story now; begin at the beginning and straight on to the end…” At this point the front door closed and Pinkie heard no more of the conversation, but she was certain that Doc would follow Big Mac all the way home.
So, thought Pinkie, wringing her front hooves, Doc finds the Apple family more fascinating than me.
And Pinkie got an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea.
“I don’t understands it,” declared Granny Smith, the next day. “Weekly deliveries have worked just fine for Sugarcube Corner for years. Why change your order now? There ain’t no reason to switch to daily deliveries.”
“Oh, I have my reasons,” said Pinkie Pie, innocently.
“Mrs. Smith!” cried Dr. Time Turner, coming seemingly out of nowhere. “I am so pleased to see you, and so very excited to have a word with you!”
“Um...yeah,” drawled Granny Smith. “My grandson did mention that you might be seeking an interview. So, what is it you want to know, young feller?”
“Well, as your grandson, Mr. MacIntosh, no doubt told you, I’ve become convinced that the inspirational properties of apple orchards are not merely a poetic allusion. It must be a real phenomenon! I was hoping you could offer some evidence to support my hypothesis.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” said Granny, because she only understood a third of what Doc was saying at best. “But I won’t say it doesn’t happen. Not that it can’t happen anywhere at any time. Inspiration’s like that, ya see…”
Doc heard what he wanted to hear. “When you say you won’t say it doesn’t happen, aren’t you really saying that it does happen?”
Granny heaved a sigh, and decided to just give Doc what he wanted, “Let me tell you a story. We built an earth berm just in case those varmint beavers on the edge of our property ever got frisky and decided to dam one of the cricks again. Let me tell you, from sittin’ atop that levy you got just about the most beautiful view of our land you could want. And on occasion it did inspire you. I came up with my most innovative spice combinations while sittin’ atop that levy. I also crafted the recipe for right-side-up cake....”
“‘Right-side-up cake’” Doc interrupted. “Isn’t that just ‘cake’?”
Granny shot him a warning look. “Don’t you sass me, Boy.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Smith,”
“Anyhow,” continued Granny, after a moment to consider whether to continue. “Most times when I go to the levy....well, all the time lately...um. Well, have you ever heard the saying ‘Sometimes I just sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits’?”
“Well, no,” said Doc. “And frankly I don’t understand.”
“Of course you’d say that, you being you,” replied Granny. “But I’ll tell you that I only go to the levy to sit these days. As far as inspiration goes, the levy has run dry.”
“Oh, dear,” cried Doc. “How tragic! To lose your source of inspiration! Were it to happen to me, I think I would weep. I would weep bitter tears.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s just because you’re young and dumb,” said Granny. “You are a few years from appreciating the joys of just sitting.”
“I don’t understand, Mrs. Smith.”
“Of course you don’t. And with that I beg your leave as it is time for me to return home for my mid afternoon nap.”
“Yes, certainly Mrs. Smith. But, if you would allow me to walk you out, could you tell me of these spice combinations you alluded to…”
From behind her counter, as she watched them leave, Pinkie chortled.
“Oh, hello, Dr. Turner,” said Apple Bloom, as she emerged from Sugarcube Corner’s storeroom. She had been putting away a day’s supply of apples and apple products, and on her way out she found herself cornered by Doc. “I suppose you want to ask me about finding inspiration out in our orchard.”
“Yes,” answered Doc. “Why, yes, indeed I do.”
“Well, I do have one story to share, since you asked.” Apple Bloom paused to collect her thoughts. “It was just before our annual Applewood Derby. I took my notebook out to the orchard, picked a tree at random, and began to plan that year’s build. And sitting there under that tree I designed the best kart racer ever! I even got all fancy and named her Chevalier, though nopony ever called her that, they all just called her Chevy. But you know about that, don’t you Doc? Right after I won that race you bought the Chevalier.”
“Yes, I did,” answered Doc. “And I still have her. Whenever I feel the need to feel the wind in my mane I take her out for a spin.”
“Well that’s all I have to tell you, Doc,” said Apple Bloom. “It was just a one time thing. Nothing the like of that ever happened to me out the orchards again.”
“Oh, dear,” gasped Doc. “How tragic! To experience grand inspiration, then to never feel that again...if that happened to me it would break my heart.”
“Oh, don’t cry for me, Doc. As part of the CMC I get inspiration all the time. It just doesn’t have anything to do with the orchard.”
“Perhaps,” mused Doc. “But it did happen that one time. If I could figure out how and why that happened possibly I could recreate the experience for myself. I could experience the equivalent of Clover the Clever discovering gravity.”
“Ok,” said Apple Bloom. “Well, I have chores and homework and such, and I have to get along. I wish you well with your quest, Doc.”
“Yes, thank you, Little One,” said Doc, as he wandered off in another direction, lost in thought.
Watching from behind her counter, Pinkie didn’t chortle this time. But she did heave a sigh of relief. She’d kept Doc distracted for another day.
“Pinkie! I know what you’re doing and it just ain’t right!”
“Uh, oh,” muttered Pinkie. When suddenly facing Applejack wearing her angry face it was the only thing a pony could say.
“You got poor Doc chasing his own tail, hunting for magic inspiration where it don’t exist! And when he finds out he’s been on a wild goose chase he’ll be crushed! He’s too nice a guy to treat that way. I know you need him distracted, but this just ain’t right!”
“But Applejack, it’s working!” exclaimed Pinkie. “An Apple a day keeps the Doctor away.”
Applejack shook her head disapprovingly at Pinkie. “He’ll say ‘Bye, bye, Miss Pinkie Pie,’ then drive his Chevy to the levy, but the levy is dry. He’s a good old boy, thinking frisky and wry, and he’ll say ‘This will be the day that I cry!’”