Apple Bloom jerked awake to the sound of her sister slamming open the farmhouse door and then letting loose a string of *bleep* laden shouting. She was just about to go back to sleep when realization struck her like a freshly bucked tree’s full load of apples.

Since when has Applejack spoken in bleeps? And, the stream of bleeping interspersed with other words continued, why does that bleep sound so familiar?

The bleeping slaked off for a moment, then continued. Applejack must have run out of breath.

Sleep forgotten, Apple Bloom crept bleepily, er, blearily, out of bed so as not to interrupt whatever the “Bleeep!” was going on. As she crept down the hall, the floorboards bleeping creaking with every careful step, Applejack’s voice became more distinct and less muffled.

“I know she weren’t in her right *bleep*ing mind, Big Mac, but that don’t excuse the fact that she *bleep*ing stamped every single one of my *bleep*ing apples. And cut that out! Why’re you doin’ that in the first place? I ain’t allowed to say *bleep* in my own kitchen?”

“Well,” Big Mac started to say as Apple Bloom came into his line of sight. He pointed a hoof at her. “I just don’t think she needs to hear it.”

Applejack took a step towards him and looked down his hoof at Apple Bloom, who sat up straight on the stairs immediately, smiling.

“Mornin’ big sis; big brother. What’re y’all bleeping about in here?”

“Apple Bloom, language!” Applejack shook a hoof at her, “We don’t say *bleep* in-” She blinked, then glanced at Big Mac. She sighed. “Look, Apple Bloom. I’m mighty sorry… but I’m just so mad I don’t think that I can keep from,” she looked askance at Big Mac, “from bleeping today. That’s just the honest truth, sugar cube, and I’m mighty sorry.”

Apple Bloom twitched an eyebrow, “What’s so bad about bleep? Big Mac’s sayin’ it all the time.” Realization struck her like a stampede, “That was you, Big Mac? You’re bleeping?”

“Eeyup,” he grunted, touching a hoof to his throat. Apple Bloom knew that strained look. He must’ve been doing that all morning.

“I know it ain’t gonna be easy, Big Mac… but I thank you for what y’all are doin’. It means a lot. Now, we’ve gotta get a move on, you two. We’ve got an entire field of apples to *bleep*-” Applejack stopped and poked her brother in the chest.

“You ain’t gotta *bleep*ing bleep me every time I say *bleep*.” She shoved a little harder, “I said stop it! I ain’t in the, uh, mood for it this mornin’, and if you keep interferin’ with what I need to, uh, do, I can’t rightly be held responsible for what I’m like to do. Got it?”

“Eeyup.”

Apple Bloom groaned and tossed her mane, “You do know that I know what y’all are talkin’ about, right? I’m not a little filly anymore. Y’all can let me hear it.”

Applejack and Big Mac looked at each other. Apple Bloom could have sworn they had an entire conversation just by twitching their eyebrows and nodding their heads.

“Nothin’ doin’, Apple Bloom. Your brother and I just can’t let our little sister be subject to such language.”

“What the *bleep* ever,” she said, interjecting her own bleep and grinning widely at both her sister and Big Mac.

“Watch yer language! I… I think.” Applejack stamped a hoof, “We ain’t got the time! Come on y’all. Day’s a wastin and ink’s a dryin’.” Without another word, or bleep, she dashed out the door.

Apple Bloom shook her head, and looked up at Big Mac, still rubbing his throat. “Still recoverin’ from the turkey gobble?”

“Eeyup.”

“Well, there’s apples to *bleep*-” She startled and tossed an accusing glare at her brother.

He shrugged. “Nope.”

Well… Maybe she’d bleeped herself and not even realized it. “Let’s get to it, then.”

“Eeyup.”

It was already noon by the time they got to the orchard. Police ponies still stood around taking notes after… whatever it was had taken place here. There was red everywhere. Dribs and drabs of it stained the ground, it was splattered on all the trees, and every apple that Apple Bloom could see was stamped with it.

Golden, green, or red; every one of them had “REJECTED” stamped on it in bright, eye searing red. No apple in sight had been spared.

“Well, let’s get to it as best we *bleep*ing can,” Applejack said, tone weary. She hauled the big tub of water over to the side of the road and put on the wheel brakes. “Big Mac, you haul, I’ll *bleep*-” she frowned at him, but continued, “I’ll *BLEEP* all the apples. Apple Bloom, you’re in charge of washin’ em. Think you can keep up?”

“I sure can! Cutie Mark Crusader Apple Cleaner! Let’s *bleep*ing do this!” She again interjected her own bleep, smiling down at her brother from atop the wagon. “Just how long do you think you can keep up, big brother? Turkey Lurkey’s gonna come back to haunt you.”

Big Mac hung his head and kicked the fence post. It made a loud *clop* sound when his hoof struck it. Instantly, his head whipped up and he smiled at Apple Bloom, proud that he had come up with a solution. He tested it again, this time with just his hooves.

*clop* *clop*

“Uh… Big Mac… Are you sure that’s a good idea? You won’t be able to walk if you’re clopping your hooves together.” Already, Apple Bloom could hear the faint sounds of the word that her siblings didn’t want her to hear.

He sighed and followed Applejack with his wagon to go collect apples, bleeping just loud enough to cover the sound of Applejack *bleep*ing up a storm in the distance.

Apple Bloom lay down in the back of the water cart and dangled her hind legs off the edge as she watched her sister and brother working in the orchard. Applejack was getting more and more agitated with every tree she kicked and Big Mac was apparently having a hard time keeping up with her language.

She turned away from them to ponder the crime scene investigation that was starting to wrap up just across the road in the neighboring field, not really seeing what they were doing. Most of her thoughts were on her brother and sister and their frankly odd behavior.

“What in the *squeak* has gotten into them today?” She asked nopony in particular.

“What? I didn’t say *squeak*. I tried to say *squeak*. Huh?” She looked around for the source of the new noise. Big Mac had returned with the first load of rejected apples. In his mouth he had… “Big Mac, don’t tell me that’s Winona’s squeaky toy…”

“*Squeak squeak squeak squeak, squeak squeak.*” He said.

“You’ve gotta take it outta your mouth to talk. And why would you do that anyway? Don’t you know where that’s been?”

Big Mac spat it out and sighed. He upended the load of apples for Apple Bloom to wash and wandered off again into the orchard.

“I’m a big pony!” She yelled after him. “You don’t have to protect me-” she cut herself off. The dripping apples on the ground were vaguely terrifying; like they were bleeding. “You don’t have to protect me… much.”

She didn’t want to ever meet who had done this on a dark night. Some of the apples would have to be thrown away or turned into applesauce or pig slops, so viciously they had been stamped.

Later, while she was still sorting through the bad ones, Big Mac came back with another cart load.

Again, he had something in his mouth. “Big Mac… Where the *bzzzz* did you find a kazoo in the orchard? It’s probably a leftover from one of Pinkie’s ‘Late Night *bzzzzz* Watching’ parties.

He upended the cart again and trotted off with cart in tow; but not before spitting the kazoo out atop the chew toy.

“I know they’re protectin’ me, but *bleep*ing *bleep*. Come on! Stop that!” Again, she looked for the source of the noise, because this time she was sure it wasn’t her. The police ponies had already left, taking away several apples as lunch in evidence baggies, and nopony else was around that she could see. All that was around her was a cloud floating high in the sky. It sniggered loud enough for her to hear.

“Rainbow Dash! That better not be you up there!” The cloud zipped off, leaving behind a rainbow hued blur. She waited until she couldn't see the cloud anymore and hopped back to the ground to start kicking away the bad apples into a growing mound of them.

More carts came by, and Big Mac found all sorts of ways to mute his sister. He tried clapping some rusty cymbals around his neck, found who knew where. She couldn't even get a word in edgewise and finally had to get down and rip them off.

The next time, he came back with a goose on his head that quacked every time he nodded. Eventually it did its business in his mane and flew off, leaving him to gag and duck his head under the tub's spigot for a good minute, dying his blonde mane more of a reddish hue.

"You do realize I've been washing apples in the tub all day, right?"

He plodded off again and she shook a hoof after him once he was gone out of earshot.

“You can’t keep me from hearing, or saying, *bleep*... now.” She sighed and went back to sorting apples. “Now I’m *bleep*ing doing it.”

“Gotcha! I wasn’t going to say *bleep!*” She glared all around her and stopped sorting to see who the *bleep* was bleeping her now. “Wait… What was that?” There was nopony else around and not a cloud in the sky. “Who’s *bleep bleep, bleep.*”

“*Bleep!*” Bleep bleep, bleepity bleep.

Off in the far distance, an eye taped to a telescope that he had borrowed from Twilight months ago and meant to give back, honest, Discord couldn’t help but laugh. In his taloned claw he held a black box with a red button, with one talon clicking it as fast as he could.

“Oh, why didn’t I come up with this sooner?” Beside him, Rainbow Dash was rolling on the ground, laughing, hardly able to get a breath. “Thank you ever so much for coming to find me, Rainbow Dash. I do love a good prank.”

“Sure thing, Discord. No hard *bleep,*” Rainbow Dash only laughed harder when Discord turned the button on her.

“No hard feelings.”

He flashed away, leaving the telescope with a taped over eyepiece and, much to Rainbow Dash’s delight, the black box with the red button.

Author's Notes:

This is a spiritual sequel to Mayor Mare Has a Problem. It deals with the aftermath of events that were only joked about in the last act of the story... Never thought I'd find a use for it. But here it is!

Special 350(ish) view Behind the Scenes bonus:
The cymbals are from Swarm of the Century - they had to land somewhere.
The duck is the same duck from Pinkie Apple Pie (apparently it follows the Apple Family around)