The Wrong Equestria

by Silvertie

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Random, Alternate Universe
Length: 18190

Twilight clings tightly to the idiot ball as she and Applejack are flung into an alternate Equestria

Twilight is a bright and clever pony.

But not clever enough to think through the consequences of pumping a mysterious arrangement of crystals with magical power before actually doing so. As a result, her and Applejack are plucked quite neatly out of the Equestria they know and love, and pushed into an Equestria that definitely isn't theirs.

Oops.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-11 13:44:44 UTC

Blame the Pears

The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

Blame the Pears

“Thanks again, Twi, for givin’ me a hoof with this,” Applejack said, walking alongside the purple unicorn.

“No problem,” Twilight shook her head, easily keeping pace and carrying the three anvils floating above her head. “What do you want so many anvils for, anyway?”

“Aw,” Applejack adjusted her hat. “Spares. For some reason, our anvils keep goin’ walkabout, can’t find the darn thing half the time. Ah’ve had enough.”

Twilight had a brief flash of inspiration and the recollection of an orange projectile in the air that allowed her to guess just where and how that anvil might be going walkabout, but decided to stay silent about it - Applejack might not be so keen with the idea of the Crusaders using it as a counterweight for their homemade catapult.

The two mares were walking away from a farmhouse surrounded by tables covered in miscellaneous items on the outskirts of Ponyville, towards a waiting cart, where Big Macintosh was waiting for them. Twilight stopped next to the cart, and with deceptive ease, placed the anvils carefully on the back. The wooden vehicle creaked, but held the weight of the three anvils easily.

“Thanks again, Twi,” Applejack said. “Ah’d carry them myself, but we’d probably be here all day, what with these anvils bein’ made of meteoric iron and all. Hopefully they won’t go missin’ so easy in future.”

Twilight nodded. “It’s no problem, really. What is this place?”

“This?” Applejack looked around at the farmhouse and the fields and trees beyond. “Ol’ Pear Schnapps’ place. Poor stallion passed away not too long ago, his estate’s gettin’ sold off and the money’s goin’ towards charities and stuff, like he wanted.”

Twilight looked around, as Big Mac steeled himself, and began to pull the anvil-laden cart away. The farm was similar to Sweet Apple Acres, truth be told, only instead of apple trees, they were-

“Pear trees,” Twilight smiled. “Pears. I love pears!”

Applejack’s face was like granite. “Well, they won’t be here for long. They’re probably gonna get dug up, replaced with carrots; Ah think Golden Harvest’s got her eye on this land. Either way, good riddance.”

Twilight looked at Applejack. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’ against Pear Schnapps,” Applejack said, “But he’s a darn dirty pear farmer. Ah don’t care for pears, and we’ll just leave it at that.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. Applejack was a good pony, but she had some weird proclivities. Like this apparent hatred of pears. She looked back at the tables laden with old bric-a-brac, craning her neck, and Applejack spotted her.

“You know, you can walk over there and start nosin’,” Applejack said. “Ah think Schnapps was somethin’ of a sciency-type, with his brass tanks and distilling and all; he might have left somethin’ of interest to you.”

Twilight laughed. “I doubt it, but it couldn’t hurt to have a look. Do you have anywhere to be?”

Applejack looked back over her shoulder, at Big Mac, who was easily, but slowly, pulling the cart around the corner and down the road, about thirty seconds’ brisk trotting away. “Nah, not for a good time, Ah’d say. Let’s go have a look-see, huh?”

The two friends returned back to the extended yard sale, walking slowly as they looked at what remained of Pear Schnapps’ life in the mortal plane. Mostly whiteware, distilling equipment (which looked to be rapidly moving into the possession of Berry Punch, so forget even trying to get that) and enough glass jars to preserve half an orchard, it seemed.

Schnapps’ pear-product and alcohol-based equipment aside, he’d also left behind a great many books; some fiction, some non-fiction, and a fair few scientific texts. Twilight picked one up, scanning the book cursorily as she flicked through the pages at high speed. She closed the book, and looked at the cover.

“Was Pear Schnapps a unicorn?” She asked.

“Nah,” Applejack shook her head. “Earth pony. Last of quite a long line of ‘em, too, if Ah recall right. Why?”

Twilight tapped the front of the book. “What I want to know is why a pear farmer of all ponies would have a book on experimental thaumodynamics relative to spatial disruption.”

“Smaller words, please, Twi,” Applejack said, digging a hoof in her ear.

“Books on how to poke holes in reality with magic,” Twilight said. “Teleportation theory.”

“Oh,” Applejack nodded. “Why didn’t y’all just say so sooner?”

Twilight put the book down, and moved further down the table. The debris of research lay not far away; mostly broken or useless equipment, although Twilight thought she saw the makings of artificial magic emitters, powered by batteries filled with the magic of unicorns who had nothing better to do than shoot their magic into a cup all day long.

“What in the wide world of Equestria was he doing?” She  mused, poking through the dross. Most of it was junk, only really useful to non-unicorns with an obsessive interest in practical magic, not exactly the most usual hobby for a pony.

“Beats me, Twi,” Applejack said, nosing at what looked like a gold and silver wireframe horn. “Perhaps he was findin’ a way to teleport his dirty pears into baskets or somethin’.”

Twilight gave Applejack a look, and Applejack just pulled a “what do you expect me to do” face. Twilight turned back around, and her eyes fell on a large, ornate, wooden case. Curiosity seized her, and she popped it open with a pulse of magic. Inside, on a bed of velvet, six gems rested in little niches. Rough-cut gems, they were crystals of a roughly double-ended-cone shape, each one distinctly colored to set it apart from the rest. Red, green, blue, yellow, violet, orange. A veritable rainbow.

She noted a scrap of paper resting amongst them, and she fished it out.

1) Place gems in circle, according to colors of rainbow

2) Place pear in middle of circle, to power reaction (possibly get blast shields as well?)

3) Resonate all six gems simultaneously at 16k megathaums

4) ????

“What the hay is that?” Applejack asked. “Instructions? For these gem things?”

Twilight shrugged, and waved to one of the ponies running the sale. “Excuse me?”

A yellow stallion noticed, and in a blink, he was standing next to them. “Hi there! Short Change, how can I help?”

“What’s this?” Twilight asked, indicating the box of gems.

“Ah, that,” Change said, nodding. “Mr. Schnapps’ pet project, I think. His calendar had “use gems” marked on it - those are the gems he was talking about, I presume. It’s just a shame that he was bedridden with delirious dreams, and passed away before he actually got to use them.”

“So, nopony knows what they do?” Applejack asked.

“Nope!” Change grinned. “Could be something wonderful, could be something incredibly boring and broken, who knows?” The salespony turned to Twilight. “What could it be, that you hold in your hoof? Could it be... destiny?”

Twilight blew a raspberry. “Destiny. I don’t really believe in that mumbo-jumbo. Still...” Twilight looked at the gems. “How much?”

~~~~~~~

Twilight stood in the empty field not far from Schapps’ old farmhouse, and nodded in satisfaction. Before her, six gems glittered in the grass, poking up out of the ground, arranged in a perfect circle. Applejack had, unwillingly, placed a pear in what Twilight had judged to be the exact center of the circle.

“Ah don’t know about this, Twi,” Applejack said, wrinkling her nose. “Smells like trouble.”

“Oh, hush,” Twilight said. “You’ve been pulling faces all day. It’s the pears, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Applejack admitted. “So, now all you gotta do is resonate the gems, yeah?”

“Sounds like it,” Twilight looked at the paper again. “Yeah. Beyond that... not even Schnapps knew, it seems.”

“Can you do it?” Applejack asked, mildly concerned. “Sixteen thousand megawhatsits sounds like an awful lot.”

“It is,” Twilight admitted. “But then, talent for magic? Celestia’s personal student?” She pointed at her rump. “If anypony can get these gems going like that by touch alone, I can.”

“Alright,” Applejack said. “Be careful.”

“I will, sheesh,” Twilight smiled. “I’m only pumping gigathaums of power into a magical system that I know nothing about, what’s the worst that could happen?”

A small pony tapped on Applejack’s shoulder, and Applejack spared a manifestation of her own common sense a quick look, the miniature rendition of herself hovering in the air.

“This here’s a bad idea, and you know it,” Applejack’s conscience whispered.

“But... it’s Twi,” Applejack countered. “Ah’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

“Do you, really?” The mini-AJ crossed her forehooves. “Be honest.”

Applejack winced. It hurt to be chided by what amounted to herself, but that’s why she was the Element of Honesty, she guessed. She looked at Twilight, and saw the truth; a unicorn who wielded incredible magical power, with very little compunction regarding applying it in unknown and possibly dangerous ways. Not exactly survival traits.

“Twi,” she cleared her throat as Twilight’s horn began to glow, the gems humming quietly as they began to vibrate in their earthen cradles. “Ah’m thinkin’ this is a bad idea the more ah think about it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Twilight said, smiling as she finally found the right frequency. “See, look, I got the frequency spot-on!”

The gems had ceased vibrating to the visible eye. Instead, now they glowed with a radiant light, lines of magical light creeping towards the pear in the middle, each line perfectly equidistant. Applejack, from the relative safety of a few metres away from Twilight, watched as they drew closer to the hated pear. She took her hat off, and clutched it to her chest, along with her conscience.

The lines converged, and touched, directly underneath the pear. The pear began to thrum with power, and Applejack saw a future of horrible trouble and dire inconvenience in great proximity to herself.

“Aw, hayseeds,” she said, as the pear exploded in a ball of light. Twilight yelped in surprise, and the light engulfed them both.

If there had been anypony watching, by the time their eyes had adjusted from the bright flash of light, there would have been nothing left to see; just a shallow crater lined with gems, spattered with bits of burned pear. And the smell? What a smell.

It smelled like Adventure.

From Equestria, with Pears

The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

From Equestria, with Pears

The alleyway was a quiet, tidy and clean affair. Not like those filthy alleyways you found in places like Manehattan, no sir.

Clean Sweeps, a blue unicorn custodian clad in equally blue coveralls, looked at his work and took appropriate pride in it. A nice, clean alleyway. Not a flagstone out of place, no paint where it shouldn’t be. As befitting of the glorious, moonlit mountain-city that was Canterlot. A thin fog filled the streets, making the night one worthy of Her moon.

A point of pure light appeared before him, hovering in the air, and he blinked. He took a breath, and tasted...

“Pears?” he asked the air. “I like pears.”

There was a flash of light, and two shapes that were definitely not pears materialized before him. He stumbled backwards, and fell over into the street as he struggled to clear his vision.

The two shapes swam into focus, and he blinked.

“By the moon,” he muttered. “Twilight... Sparkle? The Twilight Sparkle?”

A purple unicorn got up, and shook her head. “Ugh. Yes. I am Twilight Sparkle.”

“Wow.” Sweeps patted himself down, and thanked his lucky stars when he found a pencil and paper. “Hey, Miss Sparkle, could you, like, sign this for me? It’d mean a lot to me.”

Twilight shook her head, and looked at him confused. “Uh, okay?”

The unicorn took the proffered pencil and paper, and after squinting at the paper in the light of the moon, scratched out a signature across it. Sweeps seemed on the verge of containing himself.

“It’s so great that you’re signing this,” he enthused. “A signature from a bona-fide national hero! Wow!”

“Uh, you’re welcome?” Twilight seemed confused as she handed the signed paper and pencil back. “Do you want Applejack’s signature as well? She’s probably more famous than me.”

“Apple-who?” Sweeps carefully folded the signature and tucked it away inside his overalls. “What brings you to Canterlot today, Miss Sparkle? Shouldn’t you be in Stalliongrad?”

This got a surprised snort from Twilight as she helped the orange Applejack up. “What? Why in Equestria would I be in Stalliongrad for?”

It was Sweeps’ turn to be confused. “Aren’t... aren’t you participating in the Bicentennial Winter Olympics this year? Like you always have, for the last three in a row? I heard you’re looking to flesh out your collection of gold medals, secure another four or five for your collection, get one for every year you’ve been alive.”

“Huh?” Twilight wasn’t following. “I’m nineteen. That... I don’t know a lot about the Winter Olympics, to tell you the truth, but nineteen medals in four olympiads, even bicentennial, sounds... really hard!”

“Hard?” Applejack coughed, trying to clear the taste of pears out of her mouth. “Try “impossible”, sugarcube. Y’all would have to compete in and win gold in at least five different disciplines. Most of ‘em don’t blend too good, so by becoming good at one, you lose ground in the other. ‘less you’re some sort of athletic legend that can somehow master five disciplines without losing touch in any of ‘em.”

“”Impossible is nothing!”” recited Sweeps, excitedly. “That’s what you said, Twilight! Remember? After you got your tenth medal, and everyone was calling you a cheater, saying it was impossible for somepony so young to do what you were doing?”

“I did?” Twilight shook her head.

“She did?” Applejack adjusted her hat in surprise.

“You did!” Sweeps repeated, looking at Twilight strangely. “Are... are you sure you’re okay? Have you hit your head?”

“Uh,” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Let’s say I have hit my head. Where are we?”

“Canterlot, Miss!” Sweeps said, proudly. “Capital of Equestria, home to the Queen of the Night herself, Nightmare Moon!”

Applejack and Twilight both coughed simultaneously, and dug a hoof in their ears in perfect synchronization.

“Queen of the what?!” Twilight exclaimed.

“Nightmare Moon?!” Applejack wheezed.

“That’s her,” Sweeps said, visibly concerned now. “I really think I should take you both to the hospital... something’s wrong, you’re not well. You must be suffering from some really, really bad amnesia...”

“Uh uh,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “No way. Nightmare Moon? Ah thought we dealt with that, Twi?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Twilight said, quietly. “We must have... somehow pushed our way into another Equestria, one where... Nightmare Moon won.”

“Consarnit, Twi,” Applejack stamped a hoof irritably. “Ah told you, this was a bad idea. But no, y’all just had to go and use those gems, and now here we are!”

“Alright, alright,” Twilight closed her eyes. “You can give me the “I told you so” lecture later, when we’re back in our world.”

“Your world?” Sweeps asked. “You mean... you’re not Twilight Sparkle, champion athlete?”

“Champion athlete?” Applejack snorted. “Ha! Ah’d pay good coin to see Twi qualify as any sort of athlete, let alone champion!”

“Hey!” Twilight frowned.

“Face it, sugarcube. You ain’t the most athletic of folks. Kinda like a pony-shaped marshmallow, only purple.”

Twilight frowned a little more, but conceded the point. Sweeps, for his part, blinked and examined the pony he’d mistaken for his personal hero. His face fell as he realized that the Twilight before him had little to no muscle definition, and that this was, in fact, not his Twilight. He looked like a foal who’d been told that Puddinghat wasn’t real and didn’t come down the chimney on hearth’s warming eve.

“Oh no,” Twilight reached out a hoof. “Are you okay? You’re crying.”

“Get away from me, impostor!” Sweeps cried out, batting the hoof aside with a burst of magic, before turning and running off into the night, his hooves on the flagstones rapidly echoing away, along with the echoes of his sobs.

Twilight slowly lowered her hoof, and looked hurt. Applejack looked out into the shadows, and tutted.

“Such a sensitive guy. Come on, Twi. Let’s git us some answers.”

~~~~~~~

The statue before them was tall. Twilight recalled it always being such, the Fountain of Celestia being a national landmark, along with the mountain city itself, the castle, and the Statue of Friendship, out Manehattan way.

Only, now the statue was not of Celestia, but somepony else. Somepony that had almost doomed Equestria twice before.

Nightmare Moon. Her visage had been well captured in the statue, and to be fair, without her armor, she did look like a proper queen - the slitted eyes and fangs hadn’t changed, though.

Twilight and Applejack looked up at the statue in disbelief, and looked around the plaza. Twilight knew it as the Solar Plaza; one of two, it sat on the exact opposite side of the castle from the Lunar Plaza.

“If this is now the Lunar Plaza,” Twilight muttered. “Then what’s at the other plaza?”

Applejack shrugged, uneasy. “Ah don’t know. How about we talk less about it and just go look?”

The two nodded, and slunk off down the streets of Canterlot, headed for the other plaza, Twilight leading the way. Applejack took the time to note the decor and theme of the buildings.

“Hey, Twi. Something seems really off. Ah remember that a lot of buildings in Canterlot used to have, like, pictures of the sun up top.” Applejack nodded at the top of the nearest building, where a mosaic was crowned with a carved cresent moon. “Now it’s all moons and purple.”

“Well, Nightmare Moon is in control,” Twilight said. “I don’t even know how that happened. Did I never go to Ponyville in this world? Was I out being... athletic?”

“Nah,” Applejack shook her head. “It ain’t that. These buildings... that statue... they’re all way older than us, Twi. Ah’m sure of it.”

The implications hit Twilight. “So... Nightmare Moon was never locked away in the first place?”

“Sounds an awful lot like it,” Applejack said.

Twilight steeled herself as she rounded another corner; up ahead was the plaza, concealed in the fog. “Well, we had better prepare for a fight, then.”

The ex-Lunar Plaza loomed out of the shadows, a tall statue cresting the fountain here; whereas the Celestia and Nightmare Moon fountains were designed to spout water from their horns, this statue seemed expressly built for being a fountain you simply could not take seriously, the individual depicted spouting water from perpetually puckered lips.

“Discord?!” Twilight exclaimed, sitting down heavily. “Not him, too!”

Applejack frowned. “Now, Twi, don’t go gettin’ all worked up, perhaps this is jus’ him in statue form. Ah’d think there’d be a little more chaos in the air, if he was free, and this place is just too tidy and neat. No way he’s free again.”

“Oh,” Twilight shook her head. “I hope you’re right, Applejack.”

There was a flap of wings on the air, and the two looked up. High in the sky, the moon shone down, full and luminescent. Framed by the moon, a quartet of winged individuals with bat-like wings slowly descended, and the two mares saw four pairs of yellow, slitted eyes regarding them, the glowing eyes marking the descent of the purple-armored individuals.

“Night Guard,” Twilight breathed, magic pulsing into her horn as she readied it for a spell. “I thought they were all disbanded after Celestia and Nightmare Moon fought!”

“Twilight Sparkle,” one of the Night Guard boomed, carefully using a dialed-down version of the Royal Canterlot Voice to ensure he was heard. “And Jappleack! Stay right where you are, do not move!”

“That’s “Applejack”!” corrected the farmpony, glaring up into the sky.

“Sorry, Applejack,” repeated the Night Guard, quieter now that he was drawing closer. “You two are being taken into custody by order of the Queen. Please don’t do anything silly like run or hit us, we don’t have time for that. And I don’t like getting hit, it hurts.”

“Miss Sparkle,” another guard said, cautiously. “Please warm down your horn. Somepony might get hurt.”

“You expect us to just... let you take us prisoner?” Twilight asked, wary.

The guards stopped descending, hovering at just above roof height, and quickly conferred in hurried whispers. Applejack and Twilight looked at each other, and back up at the guard, determined to give a good account of themselves.

“There, uh,” The first guard said. “There seems to be a misunderstanding. You’re not being arrested, you haven’t committed any crimes. You’re being taken into custody so we can escort you to the Queen.”

“So you can arrest us,” guessed Applejack.

“What? No!” The first guard was now gesticulating emphatically. “We are taking you,” the guard pointed at the two mares, as if talking to somepony slow, “to see the Queen. It is dark, you are probably cold, we have hot chocolate and blankets, and the Queen would like to have a word with you as soon as possible. Now, please, stop pointing that horn at us. You’re scaring poor Yarn.”

“Am not,” retorted the second guard. “Sarge, don’t say that.”

Twilight looked at Applejack. “What do you think?”

Applejack frowned. “There ain’t no way this can be on the level. And yet... Ah think he’s tellin’ the truth as he knows it. As far as he knows, he ain’t here to arrest us.”

“Can we trust him?”

Applejack shrugged. “You’re the one with the fancy teleport spell, Twi.”

Twilight looked back up at the expectant Night Guard, and let the magic fade from her horn.

“Very well,” she said, drawing as much dignity as she could. “Take us to your Queen.”

~~~~~~~

The chariot touched down at the palace steps, and the door swung open. Divesting themselves (somewhat reluctantly) of the (admittedly very warm and comfy) moon-monogrammed blankets and sipping hot drinks from thermos mugs, Twilight and Applejack emerged, escorted by the four Night Guard who had found them.

“Ah admit,” Applejack said, placing her cup back inside the chariot next to her folded blanket, empty, “That was some mighty fine hot cocoa.”

“It is, isn’t it?” The lead Night Guard said, nodding. “It’s a real treat after a patrol, it really is. Probably the best perk - the special Nightmare Brand cocoa and coffee, can’t find it anywhere else. The Queen knows how to look after her guard.”

“It’s why I do this job,” the second guard, Yarn, said. “Free coffee, and it’s as black as the armpit of the moon in an eclipse.”

“Ah’m pretty sure I don’t know what Queen y’all are talking about,” Applejack confessed, as they passed into the main hall of the castle, moon-themed regalia decorating the walls and windows liberally, to go with the rich, velvet-purple carpet that muffled their hooffalls. “Last mare I knew that called herself Queen of the night wasn’t exactly a nice pony.”

“Oh, the Queen sometimes gets a little upset,” Yarn agreed. “She can be really nasty when she’s upset. But that’s usually only around budgeting time, because she has to deal with the Cabinet Minister, and truth be told, I don’t blame her. The guy’s too much, I could never work with him.”

“Gotta be a madpony to work with the Cabinet,” muttered the Guard Sargeant. “If you aren’t... you’ll be one soon enough. Here we are.”

The party came to a halt outside two tall doors. The doors to the throne room, and just like everything else, they were different. Where Twilight remembered suns, depictions of sunlight, all done in gold; here was only pictures of moons, depictions of moonlight, embellished in the same purple-ish steel that armored the Night Guard.

Yarn stepped forward, and pushed the doors open with a creak. Within, the throne room was lined by statues and busts on pillars depicting heroes long past, well lit by torches and braziers of magical flame, with two more Night Guard standing to attention at the foot of the stairs that rose up to the thone above.

Sitting in the chair, chin resting on a hoof with a tiara of pure darkness atop her head, was the one alicorn goddess that Twilight and Applejack had hoped never to see again.

“Nightmare Moon,” the Guard Sergeant boomed loudly. “My Queen. We have brought you the two ponies you wished to see.”

“Very good,” the dark queen nodded. “You may go now, Sergeant. Same for you, two,” she said, addressing the guards at the foot of her throne. “Close the doors behind you, please. Twilight Sparkle, Applejack. Please step forward.”

Twilight and Applejack swallowed nervously, and did as they were bade, the Night Guard leaving their sides and bowing out of the room and closing the doors with a soft click behind them. The two guards at the foot of the stairs showed a little more class, throwing salutes to their Queen, before vanishing from the room in twin snaps of darkness, leaving only black smoke behind. Moonlight shone through the windows onto the cobblestoned floor of the throne room, stained glass images of fantastic beasts and villainous creatures being laid low by a single dark figure.

Nightmare Moon got up, and after rolling a hoof to restore circulation, descended the steps to meet them, timing it just right so that they were both standing at the foot of the stairs.

“So,” Nightmare Moon said. “Twilight Sparkle. Applejack. Twilight Sparkle, I know. You should be in Stalliongrad, preparing for the Games.”

“So I’ve been told,” Twilight said. “And I would be. If I was the Twilight Sparkle you’re talking about.”

“And clearly, you are not,” Nightmare Moon sighed. “I don’t need this. I really don’t. Somepony’s playing tricks on me, and I’m hoping like hay that it’s not who I think it is. Please tell me you’re a changeling. At least then, I can vent my rage by yelling at that two-timing witch, Chrysalis, for not keeping her swarm under control like we agreed.”

“I’m, uh, not a changeling,” Twilight said, uncertain. “And I’m sure I’m not some sort of prank.”

“Hmm,” Nightmare Moon tapped her chin. “He could have made you not self-aware. That’d be just like him.” Nightmare Moon turned to Applejack. “Who are you?”

“Applejack’s my name,” the farmpony said. “Sweet Apple Acres, just outside Ponyville.”

“Hmm...” Nightmare Moon closed her eyes in thought. “Never heard of it. Which just tells me more and more that you’re not from this world.”

“So...?” Twilight pressed.

“Well,” Nightmare Moon sighed. “We’ll send you back, of course. Only, I don’t know how. I know somepony who probably does know, but...” The queen closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Shining.”

“Yes, my Queen?” a male voice suddenly said, and Twilight and Applejack jumped in surprise as a cowled pony stepped out of the Queen’s shadow, his cowl casting so many shadows of his own that it was impossible to see inside the hood.

“Please take a message to the Cabinet Minister,” she said. “I would like him to come to the Throne Room as soon as possible, please.”

“As you wish, my Queen,” the cowled pony nodded. He walked towards the main doors, pausing next to Twilight. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yes?” Twilight asked. “Shining? Is... is that you?”

The cowled pony tilted his head, and the shadows lessened enough to reveal a familiar face hiding under them. “It is indeed,” Shining Armor said. “Since you recognize me, I can only guess that you do, in fact, have a brother in your world. I have... one question.”

“A question?” Twilight nodded. “Sure.”

Shining cleared his throat. “In your world, do I... have I ever found... a special somepony? I don’t need a name, I just need a yes or no.”

“What?” Twilight shook her head in confusion, caught out by the question. “Uh, yeah. You- I mean, other you - got married a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Shining seemed to relax. “Well, if he can find his special somepony, I’m sure I can. One day.”

“Shining?” Nightmare Moon said, pointedly. “Sometime soon, please. The night might be eternal, but it’s not getting any younger.”

“Right, sorry, my Queen.” Shining nodded to the Queen, and spared Twilight one last look. “Thanks, Twily.”

“Anytime, BBBFF.”

Shining smiled, and Twilight thought she saw the vaguest hint of a blush as the stallion trotted away, and with a puff of shadow, disintegrated and vanished.

Twilight shook her head. “That was weird.”

Applejack put a hoof up. “Nightmare Moon?”

“Yes, Applejack?” The queen sighed.

“Got a question. Why are you in charge ‘round here?”

“Because,” Nightmare Moon said, “I’m the only one fit to rule, right now. It’s been that way ever since Celestia decided to get snooty and... well. We had a falling out, and now I rule Equestria in eternal night.”

“You’re not doing much to make yourself not sound like the Dark Queen we know,” Twilight said.

“Oh?” Nightmare Moon looked at Twilight. “What is other me like?”

“Well,” Twilight tilted her head. “Other you is kinda evil. Sort of. We used the elements of Harmony to remove the evil influence and free Princess Luna.”

“Luna,” Nightmare Moon breathed. “Haven’t heard that name in centuries.”

“You’re Princess Luna, right?” Applejack guessed.

Nightmare Moon nodded. “That’s quite right. I am. But when I sat on the thone, I could no longer be a Princess. I needed to be a figure that commanded obedience through fear and respect, and nopony took me seriously when I called myself Queen Luna. What did other me do to be so evil?”

“She, uh,” Twilight coughed. “She raised the moon and refused to ever let the sun rise again.”

Nightmare Moon snorted. “Oh Me, the other me’s a moron.”

“What?” Applejack asked.

“The moon,” Nightmare Moon pointed out the window. “You can’t just raise that and never set it again, Me almighty. Crops’ll die. Bad for the country.”

“But,” Twilight pointed out. “You just said the night was eternal, didn’t you?”

“Not by choice,” Nightmare Moon said. “It’s not my fault I can’t get the sun to cooperate. And I can’t set the moon and leave nothing in the sky, that’s even worse. Total darkness! Nothing gets done! Instead, I just make the moon brighter or dimmer as needed. Speaking of which, if you’ll excuse me...”

Nightmare Moon walked over to the window, and looked up at the moon. With a pulse of magic through her horn, the dark alicorn focused on the moon. Like a lamp, the moon began to glow even brighter, sterile white light building rapidly, until all of Canterlot and beyond was brightly lit. Admittedly, in the false moon-sunlight, it was like everything was under a cold, white lamp,  but it was light. Enough to see quite comfortably by, at any rate.

As the new light washed through the windows, Twilight blinked and shook her head. Everything was so surreal. At this point, even Discord couldn’t make things more weird.

The doors to the throne room flew open with a bang and a fanfare of kazoos, confetti heralding the individuals on the other side. With a series of mismatched steps, a tall individual walked into the room, and Twilight decided that things might just get a little weirder.

Discord stood tall and confident, somehow fitting his mismatched body into a suit that was just as mismatched, made from enough different suits to give anypony a fashion headache. The Draconequus god of Chaos was flanked by a pair of ponies who were wearing equally agonizing suits, albeit more uniform. One of them was a yellow-pinstripe-suited purple pony blowing raspberries with one forehoof, and clutching a folder of paper to her chest with the other, while floating in the air thanks to a propeller cap. The other was a lighter blue unicorn clad in what looked like a plaid suit, simply making strange noises and frothing ever so slightly as she ground her teeth together and did her best to stand still, a small pile of paperwork stuffed into saddlebags that were strapped to her back with a six-point harness. A pot of ink was strapped to her head like a helmet.

“Ah,” Nightmare Moon said. “Cabinet Minister. I... see you’ve brought some of your Cabinet with you.”

“My dear Nightie,” Discord said breezily. “You know as well as I do that I am not the Cabinet alone. The cabinet is a close-knit team of ponies, and if you have something to say to me, you can say it to all of them. Well, you could, if the others didn’t have work to be doing. Screwloose and Screwball here won the game of Twister, so they got to come along.”

Twilight closed her eyes and kneaded her forehead with a hoof. “This is...”

“Unbelievable,” Applejack breathed. “Discord’s in charge of bureaucracy?”

“I... guess it makes sense,” Twilight admitted. “Sort of.”

The two had a brief moment where they visualized what kind of red tape or mayhem actually went on in the guts of this Equestria’s government, and shuddered as one. Truly, it would be a realm of madness best left undelved.

“Don’t call me “Nightie”,” groused Nightmare Moon. “And I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Ask away, Queenie!” Discord said, whipping out a quill and paper, dunking the quill in the pot of ink strapped to Screwloose’s head.

“These two,” Nightmare Moon said, indicating Twilight and Applejack, “Are not of this world. We need to send them back to where they came from. Any ideas?”

“Hmm,” Discord actually paused for a moment. “You two look familiar. Like, really familiar.”

“Uh, apple farmer from Ponyville?” Applejack asked.

“Hmm, no,” Discord rubbed his chin. “I’m thinking... pear.”

“What is it with pears?” Applejack asked, irritated.

“Pears are delicious!” Discord said, rearing up to his full height and producing one from a pocket to a sudden fanfare and glow of light. “And look! So funny looking! It’s weird!” Discord lowered his head. “Not like you, purple one. You still look really familiar. Without pear.”

“Uh,” Twilight pondered. “I’m... told the Twilight Sparkle in this world is a famous athlete?”

“Ah!” Discord clapped a claw and paw together excitedly. “I remember now! I gave you a medal to go with all your other medals! Made of banananium!”

“Banana... nium?” Twilight was starting to get a headache. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Of course not! Honk!” Discord slithered through the air to Nightmare Moon, who looked like she might be suffering like Twilight was. “So, Nightie-”

“Don’t.”

“-my little Moonie-”

“You’re pushing it, Discord.”

“-fine, Nightmare Moon,” Discord gave the four other ponies in the room a look as he rolled his eyes, “get a load of this mare” all but written over his face. (It literally was written on a sign hovering behind and above the pair, however.) “I have a solution. There are six crystals. Very pretty. Rainbow colors, except indigo, because who cares about indigo, right? Anyway. Six gems. Resonate ‘em, put a piece of fruit in the middle of the circle, and away they go! I’m thinking... an apple might send ‘em back where they belong.”

“Right,” Nightmare Moon seemed relieved, having gotten a straight answer for once. “So, where are the gems?”

“Scattered across the land in six deathtrap dungeons!” Discord proclaimed, waving his arms for a moment, before pausing. “Wait, no, tell a lie. Cabinet Minister of Custard, where are they?”

Screwball stopped blowing raspberries. “One moment!” She spun, and with an almost feral motion, dropped her own dossier and pounced on Screwloose’s back, standing with all the sturdiness of a mountain goat as she rifled through the saddlebags, even as the pony beneath her began to run and jump around the room at high speed, the pottle of ink on her head jerking and threatening to spill, but still not actually spilling a drop of ink.

Of course, Nightmare Moon and Twilight didn’t know that, and the Dark Queen and Order Enthusiast cringed violently, repeatedly for thirty seconds straight.

The show came to an abrupt end as Screwball thrust a triumphant hoof into the air, a piece of paper spit-licked to it.

“Got it!” Screwball crowed. “Six points to Hydrador!”

“King me!” lamented Screwloose, walking slowly back to where she’d started.

“What did we just see?” Applejack asked, somewhat shellshocked.

“Government,” sighed Nightmare Moon. “This is how the Cabinet works. Trust me. I don’t know exactly how it works, or what rules they play by, but it does. Ponies get paid on time, civil services are maintained, and turnaround on paperwork is usually half a day, plus mailing time.”

Discord reached over to the piece of paper that Screwball was waving around with an impossibly long arm, and plucked it out of her hoof, bringing it to his face, which suddenly sported oversized reading glasses with ludicrously ornate frames, diamond-studded wings framing the Draconeqqus’ mismatched eyes as he read it.

“Okay!” Discord snapped his fingers, and the piece of paper exploded into frogs. “The gems are all in one place, that’s the good news!”

“And what’s the bad news?” Applejack asked.

“The bad news?” Discord chuckled. “They’re with Celestia, in Celestia’s Citadel, deep within the Everfree Forest! Isn’t that a hoot?”

“C- Celestia?” Twilight did a double-take. “You mean to tell me Celestia is alive and free in this world?”

“Yes,” Nightmare Moon said. “Although we don’t exactly see eye-to- eye. I leave her alone, and she leaves me and mine alone. What did you expect?”

“Honestly?” Twilight gave the Queen a look. “Either she was evil for some reason, turned into a statue, or locked in the sun.”

“How horrid,” Discord said. “Being a statue? That’d be just... eugh.” The Cabinet Minister shook his head. “Imagine if your flank got itchy? Nightmaaare.”

“Ahem,” the Queen said.

“Yes?”

“Never mind.” The Queen closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So. Everfree Forest. Closest town, Ponyville. I’ll have my Guard take you there promptly.”

“What?” Twilight blinked. “You’re just letting us go like that?”

“Well, yeah,” Nightmare Moon rolled her eyes. “Honestly. I have a nation to run, I can’t foalsit you. I’m already foalsitting the demented stallion-foals we call “the nobility”.”

“Good point,” Twilight said, looking at the Cabinet, who seemed to have abandoned the conversation for a game of tag around the throne room. Nightmare Moon’s eyes went wide as the procession suddenly decided that “through six sets of armor on stands” was where it needed to go, and the room was filled with the sounds of rattling armor on flagstones as the exhibits were destroyed by the rampaging trio of government officials on their way out the door.

Nightmare Moon just walked back over to the steps, and sat down with a huff, eyelid twitching.

“Uh, good luck, Queen,” Applejack hazarded, to a tired look from Nightmare Moon.

“Thanks. Now get going, please, and tell the first Guard you see that the Queen would like a coffee, the usual, a jug of orange juice, a bagel, and some Aspirin.” The queen sighed. “It’s going to be a long day.”

A Pear, and Cents

The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

A pear, and cents

The chariot touched down on the dirt of a tall hill, and the door opened, allowing Twilight and Applejack to step out onto terra firma. Being creatures of the ground, flying was always, at least deep down, a harrowing experience. More so when it was in a strange land filled with odd ponies, under the variable light of a moon that never actually set for reasons that had never really been established or explained.

Surely the reasons had to be good, right? Twilight thought. Because everything, quite honestly, looked sickly under this disturbingly bright, white, day-time moonlight. Especially the village that lay before them, entirely visible from their elevated position atop the hill.

“Ponyville,” The Night Guard pulling the chariot announced, a tad unnecessarily. “Do you know where you’re going from here?”

“Tell us anyway,” Twilight sighed. “I don’t want to go by what I know, and find ourselves in Froggy Bottom Bog because everything’s all messed up in this world.”

If the very brief rant registered with the Guard, he didn’t show it. “Right, Everfree Forest is over that way, see it on the horizon, there?” The guard pointed with a blue-steel-shod hoof, and the two mares nodded. “And if you need more help, ask the residents of Ponyville. I’m sure they’ll oblige.”

“Uh-” Applejack began, but was cut off when the chariot lifted off into the air, the Night Guard waving at them cheerfully from the harness.

“Thanks for flying Nightmare Air!” He called out, before banking around and rapidly rising into the sky.

“Ah don’t even know what’s going on,” Applejack said, taking her hat off and rubbing her head. “This world’s doin’ my head in.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said, doing her best to soothe her friend’s nerves. “It’ll all be over soon. We just need to go and deal with Celestia, get the gems and go home.”

“It’s just...” Applejack looked at the town of Ponyville. “Ah’m worried about what Ah’ll find down there. Ah know Ponyville like the back of my hoof, an’ Ah can’t shake this feelin’ that something’s terribly wrong down there.”

“Well,” Twilight tilted her head. “Let’s not go to Ponyville, then. Let’s just go straight to the forest, that way we won’t have to see the town.”

“Good plan, Twi,” Applejack smiled. “Ah guess that’s why you’re the Princess’ protege, then. Let’s go straight to the forest.”

~~~~~~~

“You can’t go straight to the forest.”

“This is ridiculous,” Applejack complained. “You’re bein’ ridiculous, RD.”

Rainbow Dash lazed on a cloud at ground level, reclining on a fluffy white cloud and wearing sunglasses, even as she twirled her baton idly and the small badge of office hanging on a chain around her neck glinted in the sunlight. It was accordingly hard to take her seriously, even when the badge did proclaim her to be part of “Ponyville PD”; however, the wall of low-hanging stormclouds behind her, crackling with electricity was not. It was quite a long wall, easily stretching off for miles to either side of the road on which Rainbow Dash had parked her cloud.

“Sorry,” Rainbow Dash drawled. “Them’s the breaks. Gotta have a permit to get into the forest these days.”

“Okay, we need a permit. How do we get one?” Twilight asked.

“Get the permit card, of course,” Rainbow Dash answered, responding more readily to the calm Twilight than the increasingly irate Applejack. “You hold that permit card, you got a permit.”

“And how do we get the permit card?”

“Well,” Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her head. “Get it off the pony who currently has it, of course.”

“What?” Twilight blinked. “You mean there’s only one permit card for all of Ponyville?”

“Hah!” Rainbow Dash laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Good, because I-”

“There’s only one in all of Equestria! The Everfree’s a dangerous place, you know!”

Twilight took a deep breath, and pushed the urge to throttle her alternate universe friend with her magic deep down. Very deep down.

“Pray tell,” she said, eyes closed and doing her level best to keep her voice neutral, “Who has the card right now?”

“Uh,” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “I dunno. I think... Rarity? Yeah, Rarity. I think. Probably.”

“Why would Rarity...?” Twilight let the question trail off, and turned back to Rainbow Dash. “So, we won’t need anything else?”

“Nope, “Rainbow Dash said, “Just get that card, and you’re all set to do whatever it was that you wanted to do in the Everfree.”

“Fine.” Twilight nodded to Applejack and turned away. “Come on, let’s go pay Rarity a visit, and get that permit card thing.”

“Right behind ya, Twi,” Applejack nodded, adjusting her hat and turning her back on the pony who was, in another world, a friend.

“Hey,” Rainbow Dash perked up. “You’re Twilight Sparkle, right? Could I get your autograph?”

Twilight turned around. “Will you let us through if I give it to you?”

“Uh,” Rainbow Dash looked at the storm wall and Twilight. “Um, no.”

“Then no autograph.”

Twilight kept walking, hoping things would work the way she wanted. What she got was a disappointed “Oh” from Rainbow Dash, and not another sound.

Twilight and Applejack got out of earshot, and Twilight confided in Applejack. “I was so sure that would work.”

“I guess, even in this messed-up, filthy, pear-centric world, RD’s still the Element of Loyalty,” Applejack shrugged.

~~~~~~~

The two ponies walked through Ponyville. They’d expected the worst, for nothing to be familiar. Applejack had expected a running theme of pears.

To their surprise, there were very few surprises. A few new faces, but otherwise, if they didn’t know better, they’d say they were back home. And so far, no pears. All was well.

At least, until they were reminded just where they were, when they saw the town square. A familiar wooden carriage was parked there, with a familiar wooden stage protruding from the side, with an even more familiar light blue unicorn mare standing front and center. A mare that had made a fool of one of the pair, and been made a fool of by the other.

“Trixie,” Applejack growled. “What is that showboatin’ fraudster doin’ here...?”

“Come one, come all!” Trixie shouted, her voice easily carrying over the audience. “Witness feats beyond comprehension! Magical powers beyond knowing!”

The carriage was slowly being surrounded by a growing crowd of ponies, and Twilight groaned. “Not this again.”

“Behold,” Trixie cried, “The great, the powerful... FLUTTERSHY!”

Twilight and Applejack did a double-take.

“Did- Did she just say...?” Applejack’s voice came to a halt as she was lost for words.

“I think she did,” Twilight said, running to get closer to the stage, Applejack not far behind.

Up on the stage, with an explosion of smoke and fireworks, a pony appeared in a haze, and slowly materialized into the shape of a timid pegasus that Twilight and Applejack knew and loved. Only dressed in a purple cape and pointed hat, both articles bedecked with glittery stars.

“It is,” breathed Applejack. “Well, Ah’ll be.”

“Um, hello,” Fluttershy said, her voice struggling to carry over the audience as Trixie stepped back and vanished backstage. “Thank you for coming. I’ll be... performing some tricks today. Magic tricks. They’re pretty great. Um.”

The crowd was, surprisingly, silent, waiting for Fluttershy to keep going.

“Right,” The pegasus nodded. “So, um, for my first trick, I’ll be... um, sawing my lovely assistant in half. If that’s okay with you.”

“Trixie gettin’ sawed in half?” Applejack muttered, leaning over to Twilight. “This, Ah’d pay to see, magic or no.”

“Applejack!”

“Hey,” the farmpony countered. “You’re not the one she made a foal out of.”

There was a squeaking of wheels in the air, as Trixie re-emerged, pushing a long box borne on a simple metal frame with wheels, to the accompaniment of music from offstage. As the lid was popped open, and the box spun around to reveal a total lack of deceptions or tricks inside or underneath the box, the crowd’s excitement began to mount. With a sliding of steel, Trixie produced a pair of long, square blades, intended to separate the box quite neatly down the middle. Applejack perked up when an apple was produced, and the sharpness of the blades proved when Fluttershy threw the apple into the air, and with two swings of the blades, Trixie sliced the apple into four rough discs.

Trixie, with much posturing and fanfare, got into the box, and Fluttershy closed it, snapping it shut with a convenient padlock. She rattled it, and presented it to the audience to prove that the box was, in fact, sealed tight. No escape.

Fluttershy raised one of the blades between her hooves, and hovering over the box, placed the first blade quite firmly through the provided slit at the top of the box. With an audible shunk, the blade slid home, and the crowd oohed appropriately as Trixie didn’t seem to mind at all, still smiling and winking at members of the audience. Fluttershy repeated the feat, sliding blade number two home, and undid the latches on the sides of the box to separate the two halves.

The crowd began to clap and applaud loudly as the box separated without a problem, and Fluttershy seemed to look at the trick for the first time. Offstage, the music suddenly died as the needle jumped track and went silent.

“Oh my goodness!” She shrieked. “Oh my! Trixie! Oh no, this is all wrong! Oh my gosh! I’ve cut you in half!”

The applause rapidly died off as the audience sensed that something was not going as planned, and struggled to decide if they should be enjoying the show or calling an ambulance.

“Trixie is fine!” Trixie shouted. From the second half of the box, two hooves kicked to emphasize the point. “Totally fine! The Great and Powerful Fluttershy is so Great and Powerful that she simply doesn’t know her own power! Now,” Trixie said, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “Please, Fluttershy, stop panicking because this is how the trick is supposed to go, and finish it please!”

Fluttershy snapped out of her frantic panicking, and nodded. “Right, of course. Okay. Um, you can see that Trixie has been cut in half.”

Fluttershy carefully spun the two half-boxes around, and as she did, the music found its groove again, and the music resumed more or less where it left off.

The audience watched, enthralled, as the two boxes were brought together with a soft click. Fluttershy, hovering above the spinning boxes, threw a red cloth blanket over the top, concealing them completely, save for the obvious shape of Trixie’s head and hindlegs protruding from the box. With a flourish, Fluttershy pulled her hat off, and reached inside. With a tug, she pulled out a rabbit, and looked at it in surprise.

“A-Angel?”

The white rabbit drummed a foot instinctively in the air, and Fluttershy gave a smile that could thaw even the coldest heart. Those with already soft hearts had to drop to a knee and steady themselves. Only the deaf and blind were spared the merciless onslaught of adorableness, their ears unheeding of the faint squee that accompanied the smile.

The rabbit was returned to the hat, and after a more vigorous rummage, a wand was produced; nothing fancy, just a black affair with white tips. It was flourished, spun, and eventually tapped on the box.

With an explosion of pink smoke and a wet sound, the audience gasped as the box, Trixie and Fluttershy vanished inside an obscuring, gaseous cloud. The billowing cloud slowly thinned, and Fluttershy was left standing next to something out of a horror film.

The box had been ripped apart from the inside, red, organic material liberally coating the inside and stage surrounding the box, and hanging off the splinters and out of the holes in the box. Several members of the audience, as well as Fluttershy, looked at the vaguely pony-shaped lump of bright-red flesh inside the box.

“Oh my,” Fluttershy said, faintly. She dipped a hoof inside the box, and to loud noises of disgust, scooped out a lump of flesh and ate it, smacking her lips. “Tomato.”

The crowd relaxed a little as they realized that the box was not filled with ponyflesh, but with tomatoflesh, and began to chuckle as they discussed how they’d been had. Applejack leaned over to Twilight.

“What Ah wanna know is, where’s Trixie?”

“Trixie is right here,” a female voice said, on Applejack’s other side. The farmpony startled, to see a pony who had been nose-deep in a newspaper putting it down, revealing the blue showmare sitting quite calmly in a brown trenchcoat and fedora. She whipped the clothes off, and reared up as the audience turned around, and saw her.

The stomping of the audience filled the air, and Fluttershy and Trixie both took their bows, the audience genuinely mystified.

“Thank you for coming to today’s show,” Fluttershy declared, loudly. “We’ll be here all week! See you tomorrow!”

The crowd murmured in excitement, and began to disperse. Applejack looked at Twilight.

“Alright, how’d they do it, Twi? You gotta tell me.”

“How’d they do what?” Twilight asked, oblivious.

“Trixie,” Applejack said, nodding at the stage, where the tomato was being cleaned up. “How’d Trixie get down here so fast? And without me noticin’?”

“Trade secret,” a confident voice said. The pair looked up, and saw Fluttershy hovering in the air not far from them. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“That’s me,” Twilight nodded. “Fluttershy, you’re a stage magician?”

“The greatest stage magician in all of Equestria,” Fluttershy corrected. “It’s good to see you again, Twilight. I thought you were in Stalliongrad.”

“So everypony keeps telling me,” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Uh, where do I know you from, again? Refresh my memory.”

Fluttershy pouted as she touched down. “Well. That’s a little insulting, to be forgotten so quickly. And after I made a whole building vanish, just for you...”

“Oh,” Twilight shook her head. “It’s not that I forgot, I just... wasn’t here to see it. I’m from a parallel Equestria.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy pursed her lips. “Well, if that’s true, then I guess it’s less of an insult. It was your... fifteenth party? Quite an event, I think you were celebrating your ninth gold medal. Trixie?”

“Yes, Fluttershy?” The showmare asked from the stage.

“When did we do trick two-eighty-four for Twilight?”

“Her fifteenth birthday!” Trixie yelled back. “Eight gold medals celebration, as well!”

“Ponyfeathers,” Fluttershy kicked the ground softly. “Knew I got something wrong. Anyway. That’s how we met.”

“So you’re famous, then?” Applejack asked.

“Famous?” Fluttershy laughed, a gentle “ha”. “No, I’m not famous. I’m Legendary. I managed to perform a trick that even the Nightmare couldn’t guess as to how it was done!”

“So what brings you to Ponyville, then?” Twilight asked, looking around. “I mean, it’s hardly a famous location like Manehattan or Haygas, no offense, Applejack.”

“None taken,” Applejack said.

“Oh,” Fluttershy rocked back and forth a bit. “This is where I started my career. Felt like stopping back here for a bit, take a holiday. It’s a nice place.”

“It is,” Twilight agreed.

“Now,” Fluttershy turned back to Twilight. “What brings you here? By all accounts, I think it’s harder to travel here from a parallel Equestria than it is from Las Pegasus. Whatever it is, it must be important.”

“Oh,” Applejack nodded. “We came here to see Princess Celestia about some gems, so we can go home. But to get that, we need the permit, which Rarity has.”

“Oh, Rarity,” Fluttershy nodded. “I know her. In fact, I need to stop by at her place on business, even. Trixie?”

“Yes, Fluttershy?” Trixie called out.

“Can you take care of packing up alone?”

“Sure,” Trixie nodded. “But I get to pick dinner tonight!”

Fluttershy laughed. “You got it. See you later, Trixie. Don’t go riling up any more Ursas!”

Trixie blushed. “Come on, that was just one time. How’d I know the firework would go off like that?”

The two performers laughed a little more, made their goodbyes, and Fluttershy walked off, taking the lead.

“It’s odd how Trixie still managed to upset an Ursa in this world as well,” Twilight mused. “I wonder if there’s just some things that never change?”

“You know Trixie in your world?” Fluttershy asked. “What’s she like?”

“Arrogant as all-get-out,” Applejack muttered. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Fluttershy nodded. “She can be a bit... theatrical, at times. Hey. If you know her,” Fluttershy leaned in close. “What’s the other me like?”

“Not nearly as outgoing,” Twilight said, leaning back. “A bit... quiet. Timid, some would say.”

Fluttershy looked a little upset. “I can’t even imagine living like a doormat,” she muttered. “I mean, I was one when I was a little filly, but... really?”

“Yeah,” Applejack nodded. “She’s a bit more assertive these days, and you wouldn’t pick her to be the one that stared down a dragon, but knock me over with a feather if it ain’t been the longest thing coming.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I guess I can’t be Great and Powerful in all universes, then.”

The group broke left down a side street; well, to be accurate, Fluttershy did. Applejack and Twilight kept walking straight ahead.

“Uh, where are you going?” Fluttershy asked. “Rarity’s is this way. Or have I misremembered?”

Twilight shrugged. “Sorry. Force of habit, Rarity’s house is usually that way, Carousel Boutique.”

“Rarity?” Fluttershy giggled. “Rarity living in a fashion store?! That’s rich! Oh, pony alive, I can’t...”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so if Rarity don’t live in a fashion store... what does she do?”

~~~~~~~

“Rock farmin’,” Applejack said. “I don’t bucking believe it.”

The trio had come quite a way out of town, and found themselves in the gem-rich planes that Twilight recognized as the home of the Diamond Dogs who had kidnapped Rarity before. Only now there were fences and signs of obvious life, a small farmhouse sitting next to fields of boulders.

“Hey, Rarity!” Fluttershy called out. “Are you home?”

A grubby window popped as it was nudge open, and a blue eye looked out, widening when it saw her visitors.

“Be right there!” a familiar voice called out. The door was flung open, and Rarity ran out, a hat perched on her head.

It was something of a shock for Twilight and Applejack. Rarity, who didn’t care to get dirty at the best of times, and wouldn’t be seen in a hat that was actually practical or didn’t have six feathers in it, was what they were used to.

Today, they got a Rarity who wore a hat that looked like what Applejack would wear if she didn’t have her faithful stetson; and that was unusual enough, never mind that she wore a set of denim dungarees, and apparently hadn’t bathed in a length of time that could be estimated in weeks, if you were conservative with how you carbon-dated the grime stuck to her and her garment.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity exclaimed. “How have you been, it’s been too long!”

The two mares ran up to one another, and after a bit of awkward sizing up, embraced with a firm hug. Twilight and Applejack cantered to keep up, and Rarity broke the embrace, looking at them.

“I see you brought some friends. New stagehooves? Wait, no... that’s... is it?” Rarity fished out a monocle from her dungarees, the lens made from a single, brilliantly cut diamond. “It is! Twilight Sparkle, the Equestrian Wonder-Athlete! What brings a national hero like yourself to my humble rock farm?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Fluttershy said, before turning to Twilight. “Rarity is the best rock farmer this side of Trottingham, honestly. I came to her for my first gems to give my act some pizazz, and I’ve never shopped anywhere else since.”

“Oh, you,” Rarity blushed, waving a grubby, alabaster hoof at Fluttershy.

“And in any case,” Fluttershy continued, “This Twilight and Applejack are from another Equestria, apparently. They seem to know you from there.”

“Whaaa?” Rarity took a step back. “My reputation is heard of in other dimensions?!”

“Sort of,” Twilight said. “We know you as a dressmaker. A really good one, at that. You’ve designed dresses for the Grand Galloping Gala, and had your lines sold all over Canterlot. I think you started a fashion trend with the dress you made me for my birthday, even.”

“Dressmaking?!” Rarity seemed mortified. “Don’t tell me they’re frou-frou...”

“The frou-iest,” Applejack said. “The kind of thing you cain’t get a day’s work done in, to be honest.”

Rarity shuddered. “Ew. No thanks. I’ll stick to rock farming.”

Fluttershy looked out over the fields, and saw rocks turning in the distance, pushed by three large shapes. Rarity nodded approvingly.

“New workers. Diamond Dogs,” Rarity explained. “Told ‘em they’d be working for whatever gems I can’t sell, and they seemed ecstatic over that alone. Best hires ever. I’ve been able to spend more time on the cutting, got them shining so smooth now, I think I’m attracting the attention of Equestrian Innovations, some nonsense about resonance cascades or something.”

“Well,” Twilight said, “If it’s any consolation, you’ve still got that eye for detail and gems in our world, even if you do make dresses.”

Rarity nodded. “I suppose it will have to do. So, you’re from another world; if you are not here for my gems, then what are you here for?”

“We were told y’all had the permit to get into the Everfree Forest,” Applejack said. “If it wouldn’t trouble you... could we have it? Give it back when we’re done, honest.”

Rarity sighed. “I’m so sorry. You just missed it, somepony else picked it up yesterday.”

“What?!” Applejack exclaimed. “Who? Who did you give it to?”

“Hmm,” Rarity tapped her chin. “It was... uh... started with a P. They lived out at the Acres.”

“Sweet Apple Acres?” Applejack asked.

“Eeeh,” Rarity waggled a hoof. “Sounds about right. Gave it to a mare that looks not a lot unlike you, actually. Only she’s sorta lime-green. Braided mane.”

Twilight had a niggling sensation as to who had the permit now, but held her tongue. “Thank you, Rarity, for helping us.”

“Certainly!” Rarity said. “The least I can do.”

Twilight looked at Applejack, who nodded.

“Let’s get that permit.”

“Don’t wait up on my account,” Fluttershy said. “I think I’ll linger and catch up with Rarity, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Applejack nodded. “Thanks for walkin’ us here, we might have spent hours lookin’ for Rarity without you.”

“Are the Acres still located out that way?” Twilight asked, pointing through the town.

Fluttershy’s eyes rolled back for a bit as she recalled Ponyville’s layout. “Should be, unless they sold up or moved elsewhere, which I doubt. The Pears have been a part of Ponyville since it was founded.”

And that’s just gone and confirmed it, Twilight thought, as Applejack stiffened at the word “pear”. Pears. This is going to be... painful.

~~~~~~~

Applejack was hyperventilating, and looked ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Twilight, by comparison, appeared to be completely calm, and all in the face of imminent conflict.

As the pair walked along the country road, they passed by familiar landmarks; Twilight recognized Golden Harvest’s carrot farm, although in this world, it appeared to have become a potato farm.

Twilight chanced at her friend. It was truly a bizzare day when Applejack was the one worrying about things being slightly out of kilter and Twilight was the calm one.

“Everythin’s all wrong,” Applejack muttered. “Th’ carrot farm’s gone, an’-” The farmpony’s eyes went wide, and she galloped up to the bend in the path ahead of them, resting her forehooves on the fence palings. “-An’ what in the tarnation happened to the south field?! What’s all this?!”

Twilight galloped up after, puffing slightly, and spotted what Applejack had spotted.

“They’re just pear trees,” Twilight cajoled, gently pushing Applejack away from the fence and down the path with her magic. The farmpony resisted briefly, before snorting, adjusting her hat and going with it.

“Jus’ pear trees, my flank,” Applejack muttered.

“What is it with you and pears?!” Twilight demanded. “I have never, ever seen anypony get as flank-flustered as you are, over anything!”

“Twilight,” Applejack said, not looking away from the road ahead of them, “Y’all are my friend, but there’s questions even you shouldn’t be askin’ of me. This is one of ‘em.”

“Applejack,” Twilight countered. “It’s clear pe-” the purple unicorn paused. “It’s clear that p-e-a-r-s are causing you anguish. And since we’re going to be dealing with somepony whose name implies that they are to p-e-a-r-s as you are to apples, I think we need to have a talk about this, before somepony gets hurt.”

Applejack stopped walking, and sighed. “Ah suppose y’all are right. I’m gettin’ right riled up, ‘s only a matter o’ time before I haul off and break somepony. Ah got... history with pears.”

Twilight blinked. “I... think this is going to need some explaining.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah wouldn’t expect y’all to know. It was back when Ah was a little filly, long ‘afore I got my cutie mark...”

~~~~~~~

You know Zap Apples, right? ‘course you do. Best jam in town. But Zap apples ain’t the only magic fruit to come outta the Everfree, and Sweet Apple Acres didn’t always only grow apples.

We used t’ grow pears, too.

Ah was real little at the time. Big mac was just startin’ at school, and Granny Smith’s hip wasn’t bung, so she was still buckin’ like she was my age. My ma and pa’d bring me with ‘em out to the fields, let me play under the trees or whatever while they went and bucked the fruit right offa ‘em.

Ah think Ah inherited m’ pa’s legs, and m’ ma’s strength.

Anyway. Work as usual, whackity-crack, when suddenly, we get this storm all of a sudden, comin’ out from the Everfree. Swirlin’ somethin’ fierce, I tell you what, and headed straight for our farm.

M’ parents packed up right fast, and we got a move on for the farmhouse, but it was clear we weren’t gonna beat the storm there. Wind howled, and thunder crashed; Ah won’t lie, Ah started cryin’ and carryin’ on, wasn’t much help.

Funny thing, though, the storm only affected some things; ‘twas rainin, but we didn’t get wet. It was blowin’, but none of the apple trees were swayin’, it was as if the air was still for them.

Thunder struck. It didn’t hit a single apple tree or us; it hit the pear trees. The only trees gettin’ affected by this peculiar storm.

And like that, the storm was gone. We were standin’ in the middle of a pear orchard, and jus’ watchin those trees bloom; pears the size o’ foals started growin, and only got bigger; so big, they practically picked themselves, fallin’ off their stems with a thud.

Ma and Pa were amazed; nopony’d ever seen pears this big before. Magic is as magic does, Granny says, and I reckon she’s about right - t’weren’t no way to explain this’n, but those pears started movin’ on their own, like they was alive.

Now, Ah ain’t sayin’ this sorta thing is common, but it didn’t phase Ma and Pa none. And Ah gotta say, livin’ in Ponyville does that to you - wierd happens, it’s the forest. They wrangled up those pears lickety split, got ‘em all coralled up while we tried to work out what to do.

See, the pears had grown hooves. And mouths. No eyes, but they seemed to get by just fine without ‘em, perhaps some other senses. We watered ‘em, they seemed happy.

Only, that’s when it started. One night, we heard this rippin’ and tearin’ from the pen, and when we got out there, we were down a few pears, the others huddlin’ in the corner, spooked somethin’ fierce. Torn t’ bits.

Figured it was a timber wolf or somethin’, so we kept a watch out on ‘em. Nothin’ happened for the rest of the night, and come daytime, we went off and went about our day, thinkin’ that the giant pears’d be safe in the daytime.

We get back, another half dozen are torn up, about half of what was left. Baffled us somethin’ proper, how something like that happens. For safety’s sake, we moved ‘em inside the house proper, so whatever it was couldn’t finish ‘em off. Couldn’t fit ‘em anywhere else, so we put ‘em in the kitchen, and they seemed happy.

We got to dinner time, and it was a Sunday - that means apple pie for dessert, same as it always does, and Granny had her pies down pat by then. Granny went into the kitchen, and screeched like a... a... consarnit. A screechy thing. Kitchen was a mess, like somepony’d got in a tussle in there. One hay of a tussle. Me and Mac couldn’t produce a mess that big if we tried, Ah reckon.

Ah got to the kitchen, and you know what I saw? A pear, sittin’ in the middle of a pile of destroyed fruit.

The mongrel had eaten our apple pies. Ah didn’t stand for that, and Ah still don’t - do what you like, but Sunday Pie is sacred in the Apple household, and that’s why I hate pears.

~~~~~~~

Twilight’s brow creased as she tried to wrap her head around the anecdote.

“...So a magic storm turned your pears into walking pears?”

“Yup,” Applejack nodded.

“...And you hate them because one of them ate your dessert?”

“Y’ don’t buck with Sunday Pie in the Apple Homestead, Twi,” confirmed Applejack.

“So, no other reasons you might not like pears?”

“Twi,” Applejack rested a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Y’all are my friend, but if you ever cross me and ruin Sunday Pie, Ah will make a point of endin’ you.”

“Don’t you think you’re-”

“What do y’ think happened to the last town librarian?” Applejack said, in a low voice.

Twilight paled. “You don’t mean...?”

Applejack kept the malevolent look up for about three seconds, before brightening and jabbing Twilight in the shoulder. “Just yankin’ your chain, Twi. The old librarian just had to move to Manehattan, be with family. Nothin’ serious.” Applejack leaned in close. “But seriously, buck with m’ Sunday Pie, and ain’t nopony gonna find your body. ‘least, not in containers larger than an ice-cream container.”

Twilight looked at Applejack, alarmed, unsure whether to laugh or not, and the farmpony just smiled, and led the way forward.

~~~~~~~

Hoof hit dusty gravel with a definite crunch as the two mares stopped as one, and it was not unlike a decisive guitar strum in how the sound carried through the farmyard. The pear trees swayed gently in the breeze, and two sets of ears perked inside the farmhouse when they heard the distinct disruption of in the atmosphere.

The farmhouse door swung open, and a slender, red unicorn poked his head out, eyes growing wide as he saw the two mares standing in their front yard.

“Who is it?” a familiar, southern voice yelled out from within the farmhouse.

“Sis,” the stallion called back, dragging his eyes away from the pair, “Y’all probably don’t wanna see this.”

“What?” the voice called back. “Don’t be daft, Lil’ Nashi. Now I gotta see!”

“That you, Pearjack?” Applejack yelled.

There was a pause as Nashi blinked and the other voice comprehended that Applejack sounded almost exactly like her.

“...who’s askin’?” Pearjack responded. “Because if y’all are one of Discord’s taxponies, y’all can beat it. We’re up to date.”

“No,” Twilight denied. “We’re not tax ponies! I’m Twilight Sparkle!”

“And I’m Applejack,” the orange farmpony yelled, pointedly placing emphasis on the “Apple”. “Come out here so we can talk face-to-face, we got business with you!”

“APPLEjack?!” Pearjack screeched. Nashi looked behind him, and back at Applejack, worry over his face.

Twilight felt the ground tremble, and a quick look at Applejack revealed that she was feeling it, too.

“Earthquake?” she asked.

“No,” Nashi said, stepping out of the door way and off to the side of the porch, overhearing Twilight. “My big sister.”

The shaking intensified, and Applejack’s confidence dropped a few notches. “How big, exactly?”

“The biggest,” Nashi said, shrugging.

The door flew open, and Twilight’s jaw dropped when she saw the golden-yellow earth pony standing in the doorway.

“Sweet Celestia,” Twilight exclaimed, not quite believing her eyes.

Big Macintosh was widely regarded in Ponyville to be one of the biggest ponies around; Snowflake was a close second, but being a pegasus, he simply couldn’t hope to match the earth pony for sheer mass.

This golden-yellow pony looked like she could easily match and outclass Big Mac, with a body that looked to be made of ludicrously developed muscle. And the hat perched on her head and familiar mane-style that ended in a tidy, green scrunchie...

“Pearjack,” Applejack acknowledged.

“What is this sorry... thing sitting in our yard?” Pearjack said, voice still loud - it was apparent that she hadn’t been shouting from inside the farmhouse. “Because it smells like...” Pearjack sniffed the air, and snorted. “Apples. We got us a damn, dirty apple farmer.”

“Ah could say the same of you,” Applejack countered. “But Ah’m gonna leave off beatin’ on y’all for bein a filthy pear farmer, on account of us havin’ business.”

“We’re not from this world,” Twilight quickly interjected. “We’re on our way out, actually, just a bit of an accident. We’re from a parallel Equestria. But what we need to get home lies in the Everfree Forest, and we need a permit for that.”

“A permit which y’all have got,” Applejack said, pointing a hoof at Pearjack. “A permit which we’d like to take, if y’all don’t mind.”

“What if I’m not done with it yet?” Pearjack said, walking forward to stand in front of Applejack, forcing the smaller mare to look up at her alternate counterpart.

“Ah said, Ah’ll be takin’ it,” Applejack said, jabbing Pearjack in the chest with a hoof. Twilight winced with the motion, as did Nashi, back on the porch.

“What was that?” Pearjack said, quietly. “Did y’all just touch me, apple farmer?”

“Maybe Ah did,” Applejack said, repeating the action. “Whoops. Got my hoof dirty, touched a pear farmer.”

“Applejack...” Twilight muttered.

“You,” Pearjack said, drawing herself up to her full height. “You wanna do this? Look at you, y’all are tiny. Applejack? More like Appletini. Do you even lift?”

Applejack stiffened. “Say that again.”

Pearjack leaned in, until her snout was almost touching Applejack’s. “Apple. Teeny.”

“Twi?” Applejack said, not taking her eyes off Pearjack.

“Uh... yes, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Hold my hat.”

Twilight used her magic to levitate the hat off Applejack’s head swiftly, snatching it off with a telekinetic grip and holding it by her side.

“Nashi!” Pearjack called out.

“Yes, big sis?” the red unicorn asked.

“Git the scoopin’ shovel,” Pearjack said, adjusting her hat. “Th’ one for when Winona’s got the runs. This won’t take long.”

Pearjack was swift; like golden lightning, her hoof lashed out, crashing into Applejack. Applejack was just as fast, and brought her own hooves up to block the strike.

With a crack like thunder, Applejack flew backwards like a cannonball, dust and dirt kicking up in a rooster-tail of destruction, marking the progress of a shallow furrow in the ground, that ran all the way up to a pear tree that shook violently as something slammed into it.

Out from a rain of pears, and before the dust even cleared, Applejack pounced, briefly eclipsing the moon-sun as she launched a flying kick at Pearjack’s face.

The larger pony stumbled just one step as Applejack bounced off, and looked at the smaller mare, surprised.

“Ain’t many ponies can keep walkin’ after that’n,” she admitted, rubbing her jaw. “Much less kick back.”

“Most ponies ain’t me,” Applejack grinned.

Pearjack spun, and rather than lash out with a head-height buck like Applejack expected, instead dropped down low, her hind legs extended, to smash into the side of Applejack’s forehooves. The orange pony did an impromptu barrel roll, and landed on the ground face-down, tasting dirt.

With a scrape of hooves, Pearjack straightened up, and reared back to slam her hooves downward with lightning speed and relentless strength. The impact drove a crater in the ground as Applejack rolled and the attack missed, while the smaller pony went into a cartwheel, her hind hooves neatly clipping Pearjack in the jaw before she righted herself, once more on all fours.

“You ain’t got what it takes,” Applejack taunted. “Ain’t got the speed.”

“Y’all want speed?” Pearjack spat on the ground. “Ah’ll give you speed.”

Pearjack moved swifter still, and rearing up, began to jab at Applejack with her forehooves, sledgehammer hits flying like rain. Applejack wasn’t deterred, blocking and parrying with equal speed, face contorted in concentration as she began to return some shots of her own. The snap and crack of hooves making contact was a steady percussion, two strong earth ponies doing their best to put each other in the hospital.

“By Celestia,” Twilight muttered as Nashi walked over to stand next to her, holding the requested shovel and bucket. “They’re going to kill each other.”

“Ah dunno,” Nashi said, quietly. “Usually, if anypony steps to PJ, they wind up like that,” Nashi said, pointing at the crater on the ground. “If she survived this long... who knows?”

The two farmponies battled on, until Pearjack broke the rhythm by smashing Applejack’s hooves aside, and winding back her own. Applejack, caught by surprise, staggered as she tried to regain her standing, and realized that she’d left herself open for the hoof coming straight at her head.

She darted forward. Her scalp burned as a hoof screeched past, grazing the top of her head as she ducked under the blow, and slammed forward.

Pearjack’s eyes went wide as her attack went wide, and went even wider when she felt pressure on her gut, pushing up. She would have fallen over, if she wasn’t being lifted clear off the ground.

Beneath her, Applejack was puffing and sweating as she lifted the larger pony, eyes wide as veins bulged in her neck and shaking legs with the effort of holding a pony more than twice as heavy as she was over her head.

“Do Ah lift?” she spluttered. “Sugarcube, Ah lift.”

With a swinging motion, Applejack slammed the larger pony down onto the ground at speed, with an earthshakingly strong impact. The larger pony bounced just once, before landing on the ground again and sliding away. Applejack blew air out her mouth, sweat running off her as she strode after the large lump lying still on the ground, facing away from her.

As she got close and stood behind Pearjack, she poked the prone mare with a hoof. The mare began to laugh.

“Ah like you,” Pearjack said, not moving. “Y’all might be a dirty apple farmer, but y’all are alright in my book.”

Applejack extended a hoof, and Pearjack reached over and took it. With a grunt of effort, the two managed to get Pearjack back on her hooves, after which they dusted themselves off.

“Ah suppose I can forgive y’all your sins of farmin’ pears then,” Applejack said. “At least y’all haven’t gone soft.”

“Please,” Pearjack said. “Y’all might have got me this time, but y’all are the soft one. Look at cha. Apples done stunted y’ growth.”

“Ah’m the middle sister in mah family,” Applejack  countered. “Big Mac’s bigger.”

Pearjack laughed. “Whew, if he’s half as strong as you are... well. Are we parallel universe ponies or somethin’?”

“Ah reckon so,” Applejack admitted.

“Pity,” Pearjack said. “This big mac might be an apple farmer, but if we weren’t technic’ly related, ah’d have a go at him. Like my stallions big and strong, not many o’ those ‘round here.”

Applejack blinked slowly, and shook her head in amazement. “Ah like ‘em smaller, myself.”

“Like Lil Nashi...?” Pearjack said, grinning.

“What?!” Applejack spluttered, blushing. “That is - y’all wanna do this again? We’ll go, right now!”

“Relax,” Pearjack said, taking her hat off, and flipping it over. “Ah was kidding. Here.”

The large pony held out a hoof, with a small card balanced on it, that simply had a picture of trees, and the word “Permit” stamped across it.

“The permit?” Applejack asked.

“The permit,” Pearjack said. “Now, y’all run along before Ah get a reputation as an apple-lover.”

“Sure,” Applejack said, nodding, and waving at Twilight. “Twi? Let’s get to it.”

~~~~~~~

“Yup, this is the permit,” Rainbow Dash said, turning the card over in her hooves as she reclined on her cloud. “Very permit-y.”

Twilight and Applejack had returned to the checkpoint, where Rainbow Dash was still lounging. Only this time, they had The Permit.

“So can we go through?” Twilight asked.

“Well, I dunno,” Rainbow Dash said, lazily. “The wind here is awful, blows permits right out of my hooves at times, and my memory is so poor, I forget that I was even holding things sometimes. An autograph from a star athlete might help me hold onto it better and improve my memory...”

“You’re seriously still trying that?” Twilight exclaimed. “You, Rainbow Dash, are trying to extort me, over an autograph?”

“Oh no,” Rainbow Dash said, holding her hoof out. “I think I feel a wind coming on, it might just blow the permit through the storm!”

“Fine! Fine!” Twilight used her magic, and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s saddlebags, which were resting not far away. Ignoring Rainbow Dash’s protestations regarding privacy, Twilight pushed past a PlayMare magazine (some things never changed) and pulled out a pencil and notepad. With a flourish, Twilight scratched out her mark, and pushed the notebook into Rainbow Dash’s hooves.

Rainbow Dash looked at it, and squealed. “Heee heeee, yes! I got one!”

“Now can you let us through?” Applejack asked, tapping a hoof irritably. “Because Ah’m gettin’ mighty ticked off, here.”

“What?” Rainbow Dash blinked. “Oh yeah. The storm. Yeah, go ahead.”

Rainbow Dash tapped a hoof on her cloud, and with a wet fizzle, the storm over the road winked out suddenly, leaving a strange gap in the rain to either side of the road.

Twilight sighed. “Finally. Let’s get going before something else weird happens.”

The two mares nodded, and as one, stepped into the Everfree Forest.

I Pearsonally Didn’t See This Coming

The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

I Pearsonally Didn’t See This Coming

Two mares walked through the forest, and although nopony else was around to hear them, one of them certainly made sounds.

“Ooh. Ouch. Oogh.” Applejack’s face was going through various shapes as she walked, each step triggering a face-change, each iteration a new foray into the field of “involuntary flinching and trying not to show it”.

“Are you alright there, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Yes,” Applejack lied, before grunting in pain. “No. Ah think Ah- ow- pulled a muscle or six in that tussle with Pearjack.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you got,” Twilight said. “Nashi and I were very sure we’d be scraping you off the ground, to be honest; Pearjack’s twice your size and as strong as Big Mac at least.”

“Don’t Ah know it,” Applejack said. “Ah sorta made my peace with her, but that’s somewhat down to her beatin’ me to a paste if she actually kept goin’. Ah got lucky.”

Twilight shrugged, and looked around. “At least this forest hasn’t changed. Still as dark and spooky as ever.”

“Huh, yeah,” Applejack smiled, looking around. “Remember that time when we came through here, on our way to Nightmare Moon? Ah still cain’t believe that we got spooked so bad by all those trees.”

“It seems silly now that we think about it,” Twilight agreed. “Still. I can sort of see why we did. That one actually does look like a monster if you squint your eyes.”

Applejack looked at the indicated tree, and smiled. “Yeah, it does, Ah reckon. Hey, what about that’n? Looks like Spike did, when he was all grown up on greed!”

“Oogh,” Twilight groaned. “Don’t remind me of that day. That was... not one of our better days.”

“Fair ‘nough,” Applejack nodded, before focusing on a tree in the shadows, just within seeing. “Hey, that’n looks like Pinkie Pie. You know, if Pinkie were standin’ behind it and lettin’ her mane and tail poke out.”

Twilight looked at the indicated tree. “I... don’t really see it.”

“Applejack’s got a good set of eyes!” a cheerful voice congratulated from behind the tree. “Twilight... less so. You need to get out more, perhaps get a set of speccys!”

“Wha?” Twilight stepped away from the tree, which was now moving. “What the-”

“Pinkie?” Applejack asked, stopping and staring at the tree. “Is that you?”

“No,” the tree said, “It’s... a pony-eating manticore! Rawr!”

A lump fell out from behind the tree, giggling and snorting, and Twilight relaxed.

“Pinkie, what are you doing here?”

“Me?” a pink earth pony got up, and trotted out of the dark, to reveal a Pinkie Pie that was... well, typical Pinkie Pie. Poofy mane. Pinkness. Perpetual smile. Nothing seemed different... for once. “I was just taking a shortcut!”

“A shortcut?” Applejack asked skeptically, looking around. “Through the Everfree Forest?”

“Good a place as any to have one!” Pinkie winked. “Nopony ever looks for transdimensional tunnels in the forest! Have you tried hiding one anywhere else, like under your bed? I tell you, more ponies than you’d expect end up finding it! And boy, is it awkward! It’s a miracle I don’t have a reputation for being some sort of obscene town tandem-bicycle!”

“Wait,” Twilight held up a hoof. “You’re not the Pinkie Pie from this world, either?”

“Oh no,” Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Of course I am. I just happen to be the Pinkie Pie from our world as well! And the one six degrees slantways from purple! And I’ve got custody over Tango Golf Eleven every other Sunday!”

“That doesn’t...” Applejack shook her head. “So y’all are sayin’ you’ve been here before?”

“Yup!” Pinkie nodded. “I’m what you’d call a “dimensional constant”, or whatever it is. Basically, the universes love me so much, I show up in all of them! And in all of them, I behave exactly the same!”

“So...” Twilight struggled to wrap her mind around it.

“So,” Pinkie said, “That means I’ve got places to be! Just dropped in to say hi! And don’t forget, party at Rarity’s this weekend, remember?”

“Uh, right,” Applejack nodded, and Pinkie grinned.

“Awesome! See you two back in Ponyville when you finally get the crystals off Celestia! And don’t forget! Giggle at the ghostly!” Pinkie threw herself into a hard and fast cartwheel, transitioning into her usual bouncing form of locomotion with ease; she passed behind a tree, and with a lemony tang in the air and an inaudible twang in the air, didn’t come out the other side.

“What the buck,” Twilight said, flatly.

“Like Ah always say,” Applejack said, staring at the tree. “It’s Pinkie Pie. Don’t need to reason much more than that.”

~~~~~~~

The journey continued. While the trees continued to uncannily resemble terrifying and murderous creatures, there were no more trees shaped like party ponies, and even though Twilight looked at and around suspicious trees, they didn’t find so much as a loose dimensional thread, let alone a full-blown tunnel.

In fact, unlike the last time they’d travelled straight to the heart of the forest like this, the trip was uneventful; no manticores pounced, no trees loomed looking like monsters, and no river serpents were bawling their eyes out in the river over a ruined moustache.

And so, the pair came to a familiar dark stone castle. It loomed over them like a tall, dark thing, with plenty of foreboding lurking in the shadowed spires. Unlike the last time they’d seen it, though, it was actually in full repair, with an intact bridge leading up to a set of sturdy main doors - a lucky thing, since Rainbow Dash wasn’t here, and Twilight suspected Applejack’s faith in her ability to cast a spell was a little lacking.

“Celestia’s castle?” Applejack asked. “Ah didn’t expect it to be so...”

“Dark?” Twilight asked, as a flock of winged creatures flew out from one of the towers.

“What?” Applejack shook her head. “Twi, it’s fine. Take off those darn sunglasses.”

“Oh, right.” Twilight removed the articles from her eyes, and suddenly the world gained several magnitudes of brightness. The castle looked a great deal less threatening, a sturdy granite instead of black obsidian.

“Ah was gonna say,” Applejack said, “Neglected. Look at it, this place ain’t been cared for none in years.”

Twilight looked around, and admitted Applejack had a point. While the castle itself was fine, the grounds were definitely in need of care, overgrown and weed-infested. Broken statues littered the once-fine garden, none of them figures that Twilight could recognize thanks to the disrepair.

The two mares were reminded once more that this wasn’t their world, and approached the main doors of the castle. As they did, a thought came to Twilight’s mind.

“I just thought of something,” she said, “You know how Nightmare Moon and Discord are good in this world, and everything’s generally wrong?”

“Y’all don’t need to remind me,” Applejack muttered, thinking of Sweet Pear Acres.

“Well,” Twilight continued, “What if Princess Celestia is...”

Applejack stopped, frowning. “Dangit, Twi.”

“What?”

“Aaah, Ah just thought of it, now, and Ah can’t shake it. Now m’ stomach’s fullla butterflies.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Twilight tried to undo her mistake. “I mean, we faced down Nightmare Moon and Discord easy enough, didn’t we?”

“Well, yeah,” Applejack admitted, “But we had our friends right there with us. We were all in it together, y’know? Now, it’s just th’ two of us.”

The two finally arrived at the door, and Twilight used her magic to pull back the door knocker, looking at Applejack.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The bang of knocker on metal echoed around them as Twilight slammed the lump of metal into the door with a rattle. There was a moment of silence as the two listened for a response, then-

“DAMN YOU!” a pervasive, booming version of Celestia’s voice yelled from within the castle. “DAMN YOU TO TARTARUS! MAY YOUR SOUL BURN IN THE FIERY PITS OF TIREK!”

Twilight’s ears turned more purple than usual as the loud shouting moved from condemnations to personal insults and threats of bodily harm to them and everything they loved. Even Applejack, who, truth be told, had heard a lot more nasty words than Twilight had, was wincing a little at the kind of language being thrown about.

“Twi,” Applejack said, speaking loudly to be heard over a suggestion that they immediately go find a sword and disembowel themselves with it, “Any ideas?”

“I’ve never heard the princess get this angry before!” Twilight deferred, trying to ignore an accusation about how her mother was a hamster and her father smelled of elderberries, “I honestly didn’t think this was even possible!”

“Princess!” Applejack bellowed. “What in the hay has your knickers in a twist?!”

“Applejack!” Twilight hissed. “You don’t just ask the princess what’s got her knickers in a twist!”

“Why not?” Applejack muttered. “Ah ain’t no fancy psychologist, but th’ Princess sounds like she’s sufferin’ from a big ol’ case of Posterior Pain, and ain’t no way she’s gonna calm down until we find out what’s causin’ it.”

“YOU HAVE KNOCKED ON THE DOORS OF MY CITADEL,” Celestia boomed, “AND PRESUMABLY, YOU ARE HERE TO SELL ME SOMETHING! AND I JUST GOT COMFORTABLE ON MY COUCH HALF A YEAR AGO!”

“We’re not here to sell anything!” Twilight yelled back.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THE WORD OF CHRIST, SINGULO, NAR-SIE, OR THE HONKMOTHER, EITHER!”

“We ain’t no door-to-door salesponies!” Applejack retorted. “We’re here to pick up somethin’, the Queen said y’all had it!”

There was a moment of silence, then a groan of complaint.

“FINE. COME IN, WIPE YOUR HOOVES, CLOSE THE DOOR, YOU’LL LET THE HEAT OUT!”

Twilight and Applejack looked at each other, shrugged, and Twilight pulled the doors open with a tug of magic. Applejack turned a pale shade of green as a rush of malodorous wind rushed out of the darkness beyond the doors and into her face.

“Oh sweet...” Applejack gagged. “It smells like old cheese poofs! You know, those dagnabbed orange things Pinkie insists on eatin’ before gettin’ her grubby hooves all over mah boardgames?”

Twilight took a whiff and blanched. “Yeah, ew.”

The two steeled themselves, and advanced into the castle proper, doing as Celestia’s voice had bidden them and closing the door behind them, despite their own common sense screaming at them to at least leave it open and let some of this fetid air out.

They stood still for a moment, trying to breathe shallowly through their mouths as their eyes adjusted to the half-light. They were standing in the main hall of the castle, with stairs to the left and right leading up to higher levels of the castle. Ahead of them, the carpet runner they were standing on stretched into the gloom, the once-rich-red fabric dirtied by substances neither of the two could or wanted to identify. Celestia telling them to wipe their hooves before coming in seemed a little hypocritical in light of this.

In short, the ruined castle back in their world looked, smelt and probably was better than this... hovel.

“Ah’ve heard of sloppy,” Applejack muttered, “RD’s is pretty bad. But this is just...”

“I can’t believe Celestia lives here,” Twilight winced. “This is so unlike her... she used to give me looks if she caught me being lazy and leaving stacks of books and scrolls all over my tower at Canterlot.”

“Come this way!” Celestia’s voice rang out from ahead of them, a great deal quieter now that she wasn’t bellowing through closed doors. “In the throne room!”

The two mortal mares gulped, and strode forward with confidence. The darkness parted to reveal a slightly ajar pair of doors, through which an eerie, pale light flickered. Twilight nosed the door open gingerly, mindful of the orange stains in the wood, and gasped involuntarily, no longer caring what the air she breathed tasted like.

As with the rest of the castle, the damage of time that they had seen last time in the castle was replaced with the damage of sloth; broken windows and masonry gave way to piles of greasy boxes and bins of plastic bottles. A once-present air of supernaturally evil darkness was now simply a natural air of rancid sweat.

In the middle of the throne room, amidst a small island and sea of discarded food wrappers, a large couch sat, positioned just so next to a crystal sphere on a pedestal. It was by this orb that the room was illuminated, and this orb alone, since the windows were so caked with grime that no matter what was in the sky outside, the best you could get was a faint glow.

And reclining on the couch was a grubby white lump of flesh. It took a bit of looking, but you could spot the wings, horn and golden regalia of the alicorn that Applejack and Twilight knew so well.

“Princess Celestia!” Twilight gasped. “What happened?”

The white mare rotated a magenta eye to face the two standing in the doorway, and her horn glowed with a magical light as Celestia cast a spell; her glowing irises betrayed the dark-vision spell, and Celestia frowned as she identified the two ponies who had visited her.

“Uh,” Celestia frowned. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“Yes, that’s my name,” Twilight nodded. “Do you know me, Princess?”

“Personally? No,” Celestia shrugged, and nodded at the crystal orb. “Of you? Yes. In fact, if it were up to me, I’d give you a medal for fastest mare alive, because you’re in Stalliongrad right now.”

Twilight and Applejack moved closer to the couch, picking their way through the trash piles, examining the sphere in detail. They had the wrong angle, but they could see a distorted, inverted image of a familiar purple mare prancing on the spot amidst a lineup of burly stallions.

“Yeah, about that,” Applejack said, “There’s a long ol’ story behind this whole thing. We’re from-”

“Another Equestria,” Celestia grumbled. “Of course.” Celestia craned her neck and looked at the small sea of bottles that sat elevated before her; Twilight realized there was a coffee table or similar buried under all the rubbish. Celestia plucked one bottle out, and shook it gently, frowning. “Hey, while you’re here, can you try and find me a bottle of Mountain Wind? I seem to be out.”

“Okay?” Twilight summoned up a simple light spell, and fired it into the air.

Like a flare, the fizzing sphere of light cast a stark violet light on the throne room; the piles of trash extended right up to the walls, with paths worn down to the carpet where ponies had walked in times past. There were some rustles as creatures further out hissed and retreated into piles of rubbish, the sounds disturbing Twilight and Applejack greatly.

A creature very close to Twilight hissed loudly, and the two mares looked to see Celestia cringing and cowering beneath the red glow, snarling and shielding her eyes.

“It burns us!” Celestia screeched. “The red star, it burns us!”

Twilight quickly killed the light, having already spotted what was requested and teleporting a bottle of “Mountain Wind” to her hooves. She waited until Celestia was uncurling before tossing the half-full bottle to her parallel mentor, who caught it, and popped the cap off, taking a deep drink straight from the bottle before belching loudly.

Applejack shook the expression of mild horror from her face, before squaring her shoulders and getting down to business. “Princess Celestia, we’re here for six crystals that open portals to another world. Discord said y’all had them.”

“Probably,” Celestia grunted, itching her flank with a hoof as she returned her gaze to the orb, her own eyes glazing over somewhat as she immersed herself in the vision on the other side. From what Twilight and Applejack could see, an incredibly toned Twilight lookalike was lifting weights almost as large as herself, seemingly without magic.

The trio watched the orb for a few moments, Celestia quietly muttering encouragement as the other Twilight set about securing yet another gold medal for herself, until Applejack finally snapped.

“Sometime today?” the apple farmer asked, quantifiably ticked off. “Only, Ah’ve had about enough o’ this messed up world, and Ah just want to go home now.”

“Fiiiine,” Celestia groaned, throwing her hooves in the air before rolling over. There was a crackling sound as a seal of dried sweat and Mountain Wind was broken, and Twilight silently agreed with Applejack about having had enough of this world. The ex-ruler lay on her back, staring at Twilight and Applejack over a rippling, rotund belly.

There was another bout of silence, albeit a lot shorter this time, as Celestia broke it herself.

“Well, let’s see it, then,” Celestia grunted. “We’re on ad-break.”

“We don’t have the gems,” Twilight denied. “You do. That’s why we’re here.”

Celestia sighed, a sickly sweet and cheesy gust of air that washed over the two mares. “Gotta do everything myself, do I?”

The once-princess felt her side, and not noticing the disgust of Applejack and Twilight, lifted a roll of fat, reaching inside to scoop a square object out, which she tossed to Twilight, who had the unenviable task of catching it while avoiding any physical contact or close proximity to the sweat-stained artefact.

“There should be six crystals in there,” Celestia grunted, rolling over once more and returning to her position.

Twilight thanked her lucky stars for telekinesis and opened the box; inside, somewhat grimy thanks to less-than-ideal storage conditions, were six crystals, just like the ones that had started this whole sordid adventure.

“Great,” Applejack said. “Set ‘er up here, let’s get.”

“We don’t have an apple, though,” Twilight said, removing the crystals nonetheless and throwing them into the stratum that constituted a floor with surgical precision.

“Don’t matter,” Applejack grunted, looking around. “Here, use this,” she said, holding something round and half-eaten on her hoof.

Twilight took the proffered object and grimaced. “A loaded baked potato, half eaten,” she analyzed. “Populated by some sort of furry growth.”

“Yo,” the mouldy potato grunted. “What up, hotcakes?”

Twilight blushed, and placed the potato in the middle of the circle. “I think that’s it. Was there anything else, Applejack?”

“Nope,” Applejack said, standing roughly where she’d been standing at the start of this journey, relative to the circle.

“Are you guys doing it here?” Celestia whined. “Can’t you do it outside?”

“Too slow,” Applejack grunted. “Twilight, go!”

Twilight nodded, and with much less caution than the first time around, shoved magic into the array, rapidly causing them to thrum with a glow of power. The slow creep of magic was accelerated thanks to the pinpoint-precise magical pressure Twilight was applying, and in no time at all, they met underneath the potato in the middle of the circle, which honestly seemed astonished to be at the middle of such strange goings-on.

There was an explosion. Bits of old pizza box and Shasta bottle went flying everywhere, and Celestia cried out in pain and despair as the explosion simultaneously blinded her and knocked her crystal orb off it’s stand.

Her vision cleared, and she levered herself up on an elbow, looking at where the two mares had been standing with no small amount of annoyance. There was a plinking sound as an old can cooled rapidly, and the smell of burned potato was in the air, accompanying the shallow crater carved out of her floor and nearby trash piles.

“Bucking tourists,” Celestia grunted, before using her magic to return the orb to it’s place on the pedestal, before settling back down to watch what was left of the Stalliongrad Games.

~~~~~~~

Dear Princess Celestia,

As you have probably heard by now, Applejack and I found a very strange artefact, a set of six crystals which can be used to open portals to other worlds. Attached is an account of our initial trip to “Pear” Equestria, as detailed as I care to remember.

Since then, we’ve had no problems whatsoever, and I am fairly sure we weren’t followed back by anything. I’m personally just glad to be back home with my friends; I’m fairly sure Applejack’s glad to be back with friends and family as well, she made a point of volunteering to keep an eye on Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo for the day, to make up for Rarity having to do the same for the week we were away.

~~~~~

It’s awful nice of you to offer to help me charcoal this field,” Golden Harvest said, smiling. “It’s going to save me so much time!”

Golden Harvest and Applejack were standing at the edge of the pear orchard, along with a large, tarp-covered cart.

“Aw, shoot,” Applejack grinned, tugging the brim of her hat with one hoof as she leaned upright against a cart, her other elbow resting on the edge of the cart. “Ain’t nothing, just bein’ neighborly and all.”

“Still,” Golden Harvest said. “Stop by my house when you’re done, I owe you a bag of carrots or something.”

“Oh, okay,” Applejack smiled. “You win, Gold.”

“I always do,” Golden Harvest grinned. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Applejack waved as Golden Harvest walked away, and watched the mare disappear over a hill in the road. Satisfied the coast was clear, she whipped the tarpaulin off the cart with a brisk motion, revealing a large number of red canisters, and three fillies cradling four stick-like nozzles with rubber hoses attached to the ends.

“Alright, you three,” Applejack said sternly, lifting them out of the cart one by one. “Y’all know the rules about this. No tellin’ Big Mac, Granny Smith, or Rarity. Or Twi. Definitely don’t tell Twi.”

“What about Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo asked, raising an orange hoof.

“Y’all can tell RD,” Applejack said, looking around. “But do it quiet-like and where nopony else can hear y’all.”

“So,” Applebloom said, cradling her stick, fiddling with one of the levers. “Y’ called this a “flamethrower”?”

“Eeyup,” Applejack nodded. “We’re gonna put the burn to this whole damned field. Remember, no pointin’ these things at each other or other ponies, alright? Dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sweetie Belle muttered, hooking a red canister to her flamethrower before throwing the tank over her back, and sitting on her haunches to light the pilot light with a snap of the igniter. “When do we get to burn things?”

“Go nuts,” Applejack said, helping the other two crusaders get their flamethrowers set up. “Just be careful, okay? Ain’t gonna be easy explainin’ myself if y’all come back with burns, y’hear?”

The three fillies reared up, readied their flamethrowers, and thrust them into the air, columns of flame reaching into the sky.

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER FLAME SANCTIFIERS! HOORAY!”

~~~~~

Also worth noting are the existence of other worlds, ones that don’t necessarily run parallel to our own. Some are pleasant enough, others are hostile lands torn by strife and war. All had some sort of thinking creatures within, even if some of them did make a point of exterminating their fellow sentients for no reason we could identify.

~~~~~

“Was ist der sinn davon?!” The angry creature screeched. “Nehmen sie mich dieses fahnenmast, in diesem augenblick! Ich fordere sie es!”

Twilight didn’t relent, further securing the rear of the human’s grey lower garment over the top of the pole with her magic, and leaving him to hang. Fabric stretched, but otherwise held, suspending the self-proclaimed “Fuhrer” high above the ground in a parody of a flag, legs and arms flailing helplessly.

Far below, just behind Twilight and Applejack, a small quartet of humans stood; clothed differently to the one on the flagpole in uniforms of olive green, they seemed to take particular delight at the angry human’s misfortune.

“That,” one of them said, ignoring the angry human’s continued, indecipherable shouting, “Was hilarious. Applejack, was it? That was one hell of a kick.”

Applejack looked up at the angry man’s bruised face and nodded satisfactorily. “Ah don’t usually hurt folks, but that felt good, like he had it comin’ to him.”

“Trust me,” the olive human grunted. “He did.”

“Alright,” Twilight said. “We did what you wanted. We hung the Hitler from his own flagpole by his underpants. We even hit him for you. Now you give us what you said you would.”

“Of course,” the man chuckled. “If only you two had shown up earlier... Riley!”

“Yes, Sarge?”

“Give these girls what we agreed on,” Sarge said, “Throw in the flamethrowers, too.”

“Flamethrowers?” Twilight asked.

“Ah, don’t sweat it, Twi,” Applejack chuckled. “It’s for me. Figured Ah might as well grab one while we were here, ain’t got nothin’ like them back home, be real useful.”

“Useful for what?” Twilight asked. Applejack was spared a need to respond when Riley dragged a box before them, and popped it open.

“There,” Riley said. “All the fruit we could find.”

“Banana... lemons... grapes?” Twilight rummaged through the box. “Any apples?”

“Well, we got one apple,” Riley admitted, pulling it out of his pocket. “But I was... kinda hoping to save it. I haven’t had an apple in so long...”

“Sorry,” Twilight said. “That’s kinda what we need. The apple.”

“Won’t a pear do?” Riley asked, fishing one out of the box. “Pears are just as good as- hey!”

Orange hooves lashed out, neatly kicking pear-flavored mush out of Riley’s hand and across the ground. Riley’s hand remained clawed for a moment, before closing slowly.

“Apple it is, then. Here, I’ll swap you. I’ll make do with a banana.”

“Thank you,” Twilight nodded, taking the red fruit.

The humans watched the two mares go about their strange ritual, producing strange crystals and slamming them into the ground with surprising force. Even Hitler went silent, watching the strange creatures that had rampaged through one of his most secure arcane research facilities, before kicking down his own bunker door and hoisting him by his underpants from his own flag.

Lights flared, and with a soft bang, the two ponies were gone.

Sarge looked up at Hitler, then at the rest of his squad.

“You all do realize this can’t go into the history books, right? Who’d believe us?”

~~~~~

Even in worlds torn by war, we found that friendship always survives, even when there is precious little to laugh about. Although there are no elements of harmony in any other world that we saw, and precious little magic that we’re used to. It could bear investigating.

And while my previous attempts to study just how Pinkie Pie works were thwarted seemingly by fate itself, I’d consider looking into her as well, since she was able to follow us across six separate worlds and berate us on three of them for missing the party at Rarity’s last Friday.

Also enclosed with this letter are the six crystals that Pear Schnapps once possessed. While I won’t presume to tell you what to do, Princess, I will strongly recommend that you take them, and either throw them into the sun or lock them away where nopony can ever use them again, because they’re honestly more trouble than they’re worth.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and get a nice, simple daisy sandwich. It’s been too long.

Your faithful student,

“Jedi Master” Twilight Sparkle