Applejack had just finished yet another hard day of labor in the fields of her orchard. There was at least an hour and a half before dinner was to be eaten and the weather was clement. The breeze was cool as Celestia’s sun shone bright and warm, timidly making its way towards the west. The sky was a bright orange and few light-colored clouds littered the sky like sheep sleeping in the great pastures in the heavens above.
Applejack wiped the sweat off her forehead and brows as she made her way towards the family house. A thought past her mind and the time couldn’t be more right: A good bottle of apple family hard cider was in order and nothing could stop her from enjoying the cool, smooth refreshment. She made a turn to the side of the house, where the cellar doors were.
The soft green grass brushed against her hooves and lightly tickled her skin. She chuckled at the thought that today she had beaten her all time record at clearing the north-eastern section of the orchard. This was quite enough to ask for a celebration amongst the many other chores she did today. A farmer’s work is never over, not as long as a there are crops, or in this case, apples to harvest. Then you have to take into account the cattle: The cows, the sheep and the few chickens they had around.
The thought of chickens reminded Applejack a story about Scootaloo and chickens, bottom line is that the little filly didn’t exactly enjoyed seeing the bird anymore than necessary. The thought trigger yet another chuckle.
Now Applejack was facing the cellar doors. She couldn’t wait until she had her fine drink on this warm late afternoon. She held her hoof out to open the cellar doors and pulled until some metal rattling and the blocking of the doors stopped her from opening the doors. In half a second, Applejack’s mind processed much information, too much to be accounted for but we will focus ourselves on thoughts such as: “What in tarnation’s goin’ on?” and “Why’s this always happening to me” but above all “What the hay?”.
Applejack took her sight to the source of her troubles: A chain and a lock. Applejack deadpanned as the odds were turning against her. Her day had been going so easily and well and it was now that she wanted to enjoy herself a marvelous, cool and refreshing bottle of her family’s prized cider. Was it the universe that wanted to toy with her or perhaps Discord had decided that messing with her head was going to be the highlight of his day by doing the simplest and most benign thing: locking a door.
Applejack’s thoughts raced as she tried to figure why would somepony put a set of chains and a lock around her cellar doors. She figured only Big Macintosh had to know what was going on. She made her way back to the front of her house as the breeze blew a warm gust along the countryside. The farmer pony quickly made her way inside and looked for the stallion in the living room, which was empty. Her hooves then took her to the kitchen where Applebloom had recently came back from school and was, surprisingly, doing her homework on her own without anypony making her do her homework. Applejack shrugged aside the odd sight and noticed a note on the table.
“Applejack
Today I had to chase off a couple of teenagers from stealing our cider in the cellar. I installed a chain and lock to make sure they wouldn’t try to come back while my back was turned. Went to town to get some supplies for the farm. Will be back for dinner.
-Big Macintosh”
Applejack was not happy. She hastily put back the parchment back on the table. She stormed outside as Applebloom gave an odd look at her sister then deapanned. “A “hi Applebloom” woulda been nice!”. She was not in the mood to process anything unrelated to her enjoying her family heritage. She was tired, thirsty and above all getting her nerves in a bunch. Time was running late and she really wanted to enjoy her drink before dinner, as a symbol of her day being over. She was now again in front of the cellar doors, still firmly locked. She stared at the lock as its sheen showed her reflection. The lock was new and strong, the chains large and heavy. Her mind started to weigh the different options at her and she chose her trademark solution to everything: Buck it.
Applejack turned around, her back facing the door as she grinned. The mare raised her hind legs instinctively, drew her legs back and sprung them forward, making her hooves impact the doors with much sound and force. The doors held tight and showed no sign of weakness. Again she drew her legs and swung once more on the oak doors. Nothing. She tried a third time with slightly more power, but without success. Back on all fours, she then wondered another, simpler solution. The farmer made her way back inside the house once again, this time going for the woodshop. She frantically searched the room for her object of her desire to help her through the chain and lock. The tool was nowhere the be found. A-J went back to the kitchen where Applebloom was going through a dictionary for some reason.
“Applebloom, do you know where the chain cutters are? I need to get in the cellar” Applejack asked to her little sister. Applebloom thought for a moment then remember where they were. “Of course i know where they are... but you’re goin’ to laugh if I tell you” The young filly said. Applejack deapanned. “They’re in there aren’t they? in the cellar?”.
The filly let a nervous laugh as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Me and the girls were trying to get our cutie marks in lock pickin’ when Scootaloo thought it was a good idea to use them”. Applejack made a mental note to get a lock for the woodshop to keep the girls from using the dangerous tools in there. She stormed outside, her temper getting the best of her. She hought if she couldn’t go through the lock or chain, she’d go through the door itself. Of course, she wasn’t thinking of getting a screwdriver to take down the doors safely, no, her choice resided in picking up a large piece of timber and use it as a battering ram. She wants her cider badly doesn’t she? After a few minutes of hassling around the farm for a decent piece of wood, her eyes fell on a tree. Of course, the tree was one Big Mac was sawing for firewood for the winter.
Her thoughts discarded reason, she wanted her cider and she wanted it bad. The Sun was close to setting and she was almost ready to burst open the cellar doors for her prize. After making sure the large piece of lumber was aiming for the door, she made her way toward the furthest part of the timber. Her eyes driven mad with thirst, she giggled madly as she prepared herself to land the decisive blow to open the cellar. She raised her legs and sprung her legs on the flat surface, sending it charging towards the doors. WHAM.
The large piece of wood slammed hard against the doors, revealing cracks in it. Applejack let out a cry of joy and pulled the tree to its origin point for another hit. This time, Applejack went full out crazy. She bellowed as she buck the tree once more for a second and perhaps last impact. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM.
The mare had hit the tree so hard, it had not only broken through the door, but also went flying inside the cellar. She was happy that now she could finally have her drink, but her cheering was soon stopped as she heard the sound of multiple bottles and barrels of cider being crushed under the large tree. Applejack quickly went into the cellar only to realize what she had done.
Her entire stash of cider had been completely destroyed. Tears welled up in her eyes as common sense made its way back into her mind. “What have I done?!?!”. “Applejack, I heard something crash and the house was shooked up, what happened... down...here?” Applebloom said as she made her way into the now broken doors.
The two sisters witnessed the destruction of their hardwork, destroyed, going down the basement floor drain. “Big Mac’s going to kill me” was all Applejack could say. “Eeyuup”. The two girls turned around to see Big Macintosh staring through the gapping hole of what was left of the door.
After Applejack had told her story leading up to her failure of epic proportion, Big Macintosh simply nodded. “Had you been more attentive, you would have seen that i had left the key under the note I left you on the table” Applejack crashed her face upon the oak table, cursing herself for having such a short attention span.
The moral of the story kids: Always pay attention to your surroundings because you might just make a fool out of yourself.
