Chapter One

Stupid Applejack

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Golden Harvest didn't ask much from her life. The sun at her back, the soil under her hooves. The sun to be just a little bit less bright and the soil to be a little bit softer. Some carrot seeds, a watering can, a mug of coffee and a fruit danish from Sugarcube Corner. A warm, dry place to lay down at night, her favorite wool blankie to lay down with, a soft pillow and her stuffed manticore plushie to also lay down with, and running water in case she got thirsty in the middle of the night. And a few other things. Really, it wasn't a whole lot to ask for, all things considered. She felt it was a very reasonable list of demands.

But what Golden Harvest wanted most of all, above all else, was her neighbor, Applejack. For her neighbor Applejack, that was to say, to cut out that racket and let her concentrate on her garden. She was being incredibly distracting over there, lining her haunches up with an apple tree, bunching up the powerful muscles in her hindquarters, and 'thwack,' spilling a shower of apples from the tree with just a single strike. It was terribly inconsiderate of her. Golden Harvest wished Applejack would stop showing off and let her get to work.

'Howdy, Ah'm Applejack,' she mimicked her neighbor's intolerable drawl in her head. 'Howdy, howdy, howdy. Look at mah dumb hat. Ah'm so special 'cause everythin' Ah grow falls down in a basket for me with jus' one little kick. That must be why Ah get invited to go have tea with princesses all the time, an' the weather manager always does what Ah tell her. Gee, it shore is great bein' me!' Stupid Applejack.

Applejack glanced up from her work and spotted Golden Harvest peering over the fence at her. A warm, neighborly smile spread across her face, and she waved before moving on to the next tree.

Golden Harvest made a rude gesture back. Actually, she smiled and waved back, because there was a deep-seated primal instinct in the pony psyche that made her automatically respond to friendly greetings. It was considered the height of class in Canterlot to be able to suppress this reflex; wealthy ponies took classes and spent long hours practicing their cold and aloof scoff. Golden Harvest liked to tell herself that by waving to Applejack, she was secretly being very rude.

Who did she think she was, anyway? Waving at Golden Harvest like they were... well, like they were neighbors. Which they were, of course, but still. She had waved like she was completely oblivious to the fact that all her flexing and kicking and sweating was making it impossible for Golden Harvest to concentrate on her carrots. Didn't she know that carrots required lots of attention and care? It was very un-neighborly to go on being so distracting all morning, so where did that pony get off giving her neighbor a neighborly wave? Why, Golden Harvest had half a mind to go over there and give her a piece of her mind. But that would leave her with just one piece left of her mind, and carrots required a full mind's worth of careful planning and concentration, so she stayed put and glared.

She glared at Applejack's country saunter. She glared at her sturdy hooves, shod in worn but well-kept draft shoes. She glared at the way Applejack's muscles rippled and tensed up before, 'thwack,' another tree was freed of its fruit. At the thin sheen of sweat forming in the short hairs of her coat. Gosh, it was warm out here.

Golden Harvest was tired of staring at her neighbor's perfect orange flanks, so she turned her attention to her plot. Of land, for goodness's sake! She turned her attention to her own plot of land! Celestia above, she didn't even swing that way! Which was, of course, not something she could say for her neighbor. Everything about Applejack just screamed filly-fooler. Not that Golden Harvest had a problem with filly-foolers, mind. This was modern Equestria, and ponies could like whoever they wanted. It was just that she was sure Applejack was into mares. It was written all over her face.

Golden Harvest wasn't like that. She had a coltfriend. She bet Applejack didn't have a coltfriend. The only colt she'd ever seen Applejack spend any time with was her big brother. Golden Harvest had a coltfriend, and he was handsome, and funny, and he was a writer. She was pretty sure he was a writer, anyway. Applejack had passed by and distracted her when he had told her what he did for a living. His cutie mark had something to do with writing, though, so she was sure he was a writer.

Applejack, though. All of those shapely young mares she hung out with all the time... there was no chance there wasn't something going on there. She was certain that behind closed doors, that bunch couldn't keep their hooves off each other. Golden Harvest could just picture it, Applejack rising from a panting, sweaty heap of mares, locking eyes with the blue one, and growling, 'Yer next, sugarcube...'

Ahem. Golden Harvest turned her attention to her own plot of land. Carrots took lots of attention and hard work. She pawed at the soil with her hoof, determined not to let any orange ponies distract her any longer.

It wasn't like Applejack was any kind of special, anyway. Sure, there were all of the medals, defender of the realm, the magic amulet of truthiness or something, and all of that stuff, but that could have been Golden Harvest there with those things just as easily. Everypony knew that Applejack had met Princess Twilight because she had been in charge of the food that year for the Summer Sun Celebration. That would have been Golden Harvest, if Mayor Mare hadn't decided to lose her mind and say that apples were tastier than carrots. Ha! As if! Apples would be tastier than carrots when chocolate milk rained from the... wait. Apples just weren't tastier than carrots, okay?

Whatever. Golden Harvest was glad it wasn't her, anyway. All those adventures they always went on, saving the world from evil and stuff, who needed that kind of trouble? Also, they'd have probably made her join their weird lesbian cult. She didn't need them. She had her prized, world-class carrots to tend to.

That's right, world-class. Ponyville was a mecca for Equestria's carrot aficionados, and everypony knew that Golden Harvest grew the biggest, orangest, overall best carrots in Ponyville. Ponies came from miles away to have a taste of her carrots. She had once sold some carrots to a couple from Saddle Arabia. To be fair, they hadn't been in town for the carrots but for some kind of diplomatic summit, but still. She sold them those carrots. And they said they liked them. Everypony knew that Saddle Arabians were renowned vegetable connoisseurs. Everypony knew that.

But to grow her perfect, world-class carrots, Golden Harvest needed to focus. Carrots required focus in order to grow properly. A carrot patch without focus was like a patch of carrots that weren't quite as good as they could have been if their gardener had been focusing. Nopony wanted that.

Golden Harvest sighed and glanced over her fence again. Applejack lined up her haunches and gave the next tree a swift kick. 'Thwack.' Apples fell all around her like rain. It looked so easy. Of course it was easy, apples grew in trees. Gravity worked for her, not against her. It wasn't like Golden Harvest could kick the ground and have all her carrots pop up out of it. She stared at the rows of carrots.

Well maybe...

The carrot farmer locked her jaw. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils and held it, staring at the rows of green carrot-tops. She closed her eyes and pictured herself striking the ground at just the right angle, exactly hard enough, so that a shockwave would ripple through the earth. She imagined it rippling outwards like a wave in a pond, popping each and every one of her carrots right out of the ground, and also making that orange rodeo clown over there lose her balance and fall over.

Golden Harvest raised her hoof slowly into the air. Tense. Ready to attack. She was one with the earth. She was the earth. She was an earth... pony.

“Hyaah!” Her eyes popped open and she struck the ground as hard as she could.

Her carrots did not leap from the soil. She did not send a shockwave rippling through the earth like a wave in a pond. She did, however, stub her hoof very hard on a small rock. “Owie!”

Applejack trotted over to the fence, concern playing across her brows. “Y'alright there, hon? I heard you hollerin'.” She bit her lip as she glanced at Golden Harvest's chipped hoof. “Ooh, that looks like it smarts! Hang on there, neighbor. I'll run an' get some ice and a bandage!”

Immutable primal callings made Golden Harvest smile gratefully. “Thanks. You're the best.”

Stupid Applejack.

Next Chapter:

Chapter Two

Stupid Colgate

"As much as I'd love to help you stalk your neighbor, I've got an appointment in seven and a half minutes."