I continue to follow Scootaloo, mostly because she mentioned something about apples and a farm full of them, and at this point, food is about the only thing motivating me to keep going. I’m half-starved, and while I’d prefer a burger, I didn’t have burger money, so I had a better chance of getting a single apple for free, than a burger.

As we walk, my new cat “companion,” Lord Whisker-whatever, struts along beside us like he owns the place. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mildly amused at first—after all, who doesn’t love a fluffy talking cat?

Turns out the answer to that question is… me, after ten minutes of this damn furball and his non-stop self-important monologues about how fancy he is.

I used to love cats.

I loved them so… so very much that I was willing to overlook the obvious Isekai cliche of the talking magical companion that he was filling.

He ruined cats for me.

“Ah, yes, my dear servant,” the cat purrs, looking at me like I should be groveling at his paws. “It’s quite fortunate for you that I’ve selected you as my pony. Others could only dream of such an honor. Now, if you could just fetch me a pillow, or perhaps carry me on your back—I do so loathe getting my paws dirty.”

I grit my teeth and keep walking. I’ve been here for less than a day. And this acid dream-like world went from a crayon-colored hell, to me being bossed around by a cat with a name longer than a shopping receipt.

“And another thing, that I have to make sure you understand,” Lord Whisker-corporate-tax-return continues, “I do require a diet of only the finest cuisine. Fresh fish, naturally. None of this common fare—what do you ponies eat again? Grass? Hay? Truly barbaric. But such is the fate of peasants I suppose.”

Scootaloo, walking a few paces ahead, snickers as the cat continues his regal rant. I shoot her an annoyed look, but she’s too busy finding this whole thing hilarious.

I try to ignore him, I really do… but Lord Whiskers just keeps going on and on and on, repeating the same thing. “Again, peasant. It is also essential that my fur remains in peak condition, so I expect daily grooming, two to three times a day. And none of that inferior horse hair brush nonsense—silk brushes with the finest gems only. My delicate fur must be treated with the utmost care, each strand of hair is worth more than all the gold you have seen in your entire life, after all.”

This cat is too much. It’s like having the world’s most obnoxious aristocrat on your back, constantly reminding you how lucky you are to be in his presence, while you fantasize about choking them.

“Let’s not forget, my dear pony, that you are to address me as ‘My Lord’ at all times,” he adds, swishing his tail like he’s the king of everything. “It’s only proper, for I am your superior in every conceivable way.”

I’m starting to wonder if I could find a way to smother myself with apples at the farm. Or maybe the cat. Or both.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Sure thing, Your Fluffiness.”

He sniffs. “Fluffiness? Please. You’ve not yet earned the right to use such familiar terms with me.”

Scootaloo glances back at me, stifling another giggle. “I think Lord Whiskerington likes you, Jax.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” I grumble, glaring at the cat. “I love him as well.”

The cat, completely oblivious to my growing frustration, continues prattling on about his “refined tastes” and how I, as his new servant, should feel honored. The more he talks, the more I start to seriously consider throwing him into a tree and pretending it was an accident.

Though I have a few… conflicted feelings about making a bloody mess in front of a kid.

As I continue to grit my teeth, Lord Annoying, strolls ahead a bit, his nose held high. “You see, I’ve always been quite the connoisseur of fine arts. Paintings, sculptures, the like. My previous... ‘pet’—well, let’s just say he was not nearly as cultured as I am. He had no appreciation for my level of sophistication.”

“I’m sure you’re a real joy to be around,” I mutter under my breath. “Bet you’re the life of the party.”

As we near the edge of some farm, which I assume is the apple place Scootaloo was talking about, the cat finally pushes me over the edge.

“And naturally,” he says, his voice dripping with arrogance, “you will be expected to cater to my every whim. Day or night. I’m quite demanding, you see, but I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion. After all, it’s not every day a mere pony gets to serve a being as regal as myself.”

That’s it. I’ve had enough. I stop in my tracks, take a deep breath, and turn to the cat. He looks up at me, clearly expecting more groveling.

“Listen here you little shit,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “I’ve got a better idea.”

His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh? And what, pray tell, is that?”

Without missing a beat, I reach down with my hoof and grab him by the scruff of his ridiculously fluffy neck. He lets out an indignant yowl, his paws flailing in the air.

“Ah! What are you doing?! You’ve not earned the right to pet—”

“I know, I know,” I say, cutting him off. “I haven’t earned the right to pet you yet. That’s not what this is.”

He blinks, confused. “It’s not?”

“Nope. It’s something way better.”

With a flick of my hoof, I toss him into the air. Not just a light toss either—I use that Rock-Throwing skill I got from the stupid gachapon system. The moment he leaves my hoof, the cat flies into the sky like a rocket, soaring higher and higher until he’s nothing more than a tiny speck against the horizon.

Scootaloo watches, her mouth hanging open in shock, as Lord Whiskers disappears into the distance, his voice fading into the wind. “How dareee youuu filthy peasaaaant!”

There’s a beat of silence as we both stare at the empty sky where the cat used to be.

Ahh, that felt good.

Scootaloo turns to me, her eyes wide. “Did you just...”

“Yep.”

“Into the sky.”

“Yep.”

She stares at me for another second before bursting into laughter. “That was awesome!”

I sigh, rubbing a hoof over my face. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

I follow Scootaloo as we enter the apple farm—Sweet Apple Acres, as she called it. Rows and rows of apple trees stretch out in every direction, and the smell of fresh apples hits me immediately. It's actually kind of nice.

I like farms, they had a certain rugged charm that made me feel at ease. Nature always had a way to amaze me.

As we walk further in, we’re greeted by a big red pony with a workhorse build. He’s got a yoke around his neck, like he's about to plow a field or something. He looks at us, calm and steady, chewing on a piece of straw like it’s his only mission in life.

“Hey, Big Mac!” Scootaloo calls out, waving at him.

The massive pony nods, giving a slow, measured “Eeyup.”

I don’t know why, but I have a feeling this guy communicates like a pokemon.

Scootaloo nudges me with her hoof. “Big Mac, this is Jax! He’s new in Ponyville, and I figured the first thing he should do is try an apple from the best farm there is!”

Big Mac looks me over, nods again, and responds with his deep, gravelly voice. “Eeyup.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s... efficient communication,” I mutter, crossing my hooves. “You sure know how to keep the conversation going.”

Scootaloo giggles while Big Mac just stares at me with his calm, unbothered expression, like he’s completely comfortable with saying nothing.

I’m still half-starved, so I jump at the chance. “So, uh, any chance I could sample one of those apples? You know, just to get a taste.” I have no money, and judging by how cartoonishly cheerful this place is, maybe getting free samples is something within the realm of possibilities.

Big Mac stares at me for a second, then smiles. He turns to a barrel nearby and picks up an apple with his hoof like it weighs nothing. With one smooth motion, he tosses it toward me. I somehow manage to catch it, though I’m still getting used to using hooves instead of hands.

I glance down at the apple in my hoof. It looks like a regular apple, but knowing this place, I wouldn’t be surprised if it exploded into glitter or started singing a song about friendship.

“Thanks,” I mutter, bringing the apple to my mouth. I take a bite... and immediately freeze. My eyes widen as the flavor hits me like a freight train.

“What the...?” I mutter, my mouth full of apple. This isn’t just good—it’s ridiculously good. Like, if you took every apple I’ve ever eaten in my entire life, and put them all together, they wouldn’t come close to this. It’s sweet, crisp, and somehow... perfect? Is that even possible? Am I really eating an apple right now?

I take another bite, and for a moment, everything else fades away, there’s no Isekai hell, no pony body. Just me and the apple. If this is what apples taste like here, things might not be so bad.

“You alright there, partner?” a new voice cuts in, snapping me back to reality. I look up and see an orange pony with a blonde mane trotting toward us. She’s got a cowboy hat perched on her head and a friendly smile on her face.

Scootaloo waves excitedly. “Hey, Applejack!”

The pony, Applejack, I guess, grins and tips her hat. “Howdy, Scootaloo!” She glances at me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Well, I see y’all got one o’ our apples! Ain’t nothin’ quite like that first bite, huh?”

I nod slowly, still chewing. “Yeah... this is... really good.” I’m not even sure how to describe it. It’s like the apple version of a gourmet meal. The WAGYU of apples!

Applejack chuckles. “Reckon it’d be the best apple ya ever had, huh? Sweet Apple Acres grows the finest apples in all o’ Equestria, bar none. Every apple’s got that special somethin’.” She pauses, looking me over. “You must be new ’round these parts.”

“Yeah,” I say between bites, finally swallowing. “Just... got here.” Not that I had a choice. “And if every apple here tastes like this, I might stick around just for the food.”

She laughs, a hearty, genuine sound. “Well, shoot, we’d be happy to have ya stay. Name’s Applejack, by the way. This here’s my brother, Big Mac.” She gestures to the red pony, who gives his signature “Eeyup” without missing a beat.

“Let me guess,” I say, glancing between them, “you’re the ones who run this place?”

Applejack nods. “Sure do! Been in the family for generations. We work hard to keep Sweet Apple Acres runnin’ smooth.” She tips her hat again, pride evident in her voice. “Ain’t no better apples in all o’ Ponyville—heck, all o’ Equestria.”

I glance at the apple in my hoof, now just a core. “Yeah, I can see why. This thing’s dangerous. You could sell it on the black market or something.”

Applejack blinks, looking confused for a second. “Uh, well, we don’t really mess with no markets like that. We just sell ’em straight up, honest-like.” She flashes another smile. “But I appreciate the compliment!”

Scootaloo chimes in, bouncing a little. “See, Jax? I told you they had the best apples!”

I give her a nod, trying to think of a polite way to ask for more apples without coming across like a total freeloader. “So, uh, any chance I could grab a few more? You know, for... research purposes.”

Applejack raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I reckon we can spare a couple more for ya. But if ya like ’em that much, feel free to come back anytime. We’re always sellin’.”

Big Mac nods. “Eeyup.”

I’m about to ask for a second apple when Applejack turns to Scootaloo. “What brings y’all out here anyhow, Scootaloo? Just showin’ your new friend ’round town?”

Scootaloo grins. “Yeah! I figured Jax should try the best food in Ponyville before anything else.”

Applejack chuckles. “Good call. Can’t go wrong with apples. Though, if you’re stickin’ around, you’ll have to try the pies, too. Granny Smith makes the best apple pie this side o’ Equestria.”

Hmm, apple pie…. that sounds like the best news I’ve heard since I got here. “Apple pie, huh? Yeah, I could go for that.”

“Y’all are welcome to join us for dinner sometime,” Applejack offers, smiling warmly. “Ain’t no better way to get acquainted with Ponyville than a good ol’-fashioned meal.”

I glance at Scootaloo, who’s practically bouncing with excitement, then back at Applejack. “Dinner sounds good,” I say, not wanting to pass up a chance for more food. Free food was the best kind of food.

Applejack beams. “Well, then, it’s settled. Y’all come by anytime, and we’ll fix ya up somethin’ real nice.” She nods toward the barn. “In fact, why don’tcha take a few apples with ya for the road?”

Big Mac moves over to a barrel and rolls a couple of apples my way. I manage to catch them, still trying to get used to this whole hoof thing. But I have found out that it works best when you don’t question it.

I nod in thanks, a faint smile on my face. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to... savor these.”

Author's Note

Note: This is all set before the events of the first season. So, Scootaloo hasn't befriended Applebloom and Sweetie Belle, they are just classmates that ignore each other for the time being.