“The title never mattered,” Cherry Jubilee says in her slow, Southern drawl. She talks like her vocal cords are made out of molasses and lubricated with sweet tea. “I admire your, ah, monthly magazine,” she draws out the word “magazine” to at least fourteens syllables, “but if we fruit-growers had to leave it up to writers to know good fruit from bad, we’d just contract the whole business to you.”

“Then why compete at all?”

“And let Sweet Apple Acres win? Or Venti Vineyards? It used to be Viente Vineyards. And if some orange grove went away with the prize, I might have declared some kind of secession from Equestria.”

“So Nightmare Moon is on your mind?”

She shudders politely. “I’m only joking, I’m sure. Nightmare Moon was a terror, however brief. I only report with satisfaction that she displayed no taste for cherries. We keep the Montmorency ”

Talking to Cherry Jubilee is like taking a sailboat out on the murky, turbulent waters of a social ocean. Giant squid lurk beneath, but you’ll never see them coming until their tendrils are already wrapped around the hull. She talks like a butler drinking syrup—pronounced “sirrup”—who thinks she’s better than you. I’ve never felt more welcomed and at home, and never more nervous that my rump is permanently tarnishing her chair. This is what it means to be in the presence of Your Betters. Not Princess Celestia or anypony like that, who is simply better than me at basically everything, but Your Betters, ponies who are up a rank on you because they always have been. (Who promoted them? Can they be court-martialed?)

Her legendary, and Canterlot Monthly award-winning, cherry orchard rolls on for miles. Trees burst with red and yellow fruit even in October. She scoffs, however, at the notion of seasons for fruit.

“We tell the skies to rain, the trees to change, the critters to birth and die,” she says, taking a sip of tea. “Why shouldn’t we tell the fruit trees when to bear fruit?” She points at a set of tall trees. “Those are Chelans, and over there are our Critalins. The Reginas we planted will be ready to bear fruit soon. We keep the Montmorency trees away from the others, they tend to upset them.”

She gives me a bowl of rich black cherries smoldering in some simmering red sauce. They’re sweet, delicious, and my mouth runneth over with juice.

As I make a mess of myself, she tells me her life story.

“I started with nothing but a pit in my stomach.” She looks toward the trees, a distant look on her face. “It’s the pit I get when I look at the world and feel absolutely sick. It’s nerves, twisting inside me. It’s the sense of things not fitting, like when the cherries aren’t sorted right. I fought to push the world into place.”

“With a cherry orchard?”

Maybe the skepticism shows in my voice. The look she gives me is withering, and I hope that’s cherry juice I feel between my legs.

“Sir, I forget you are from the city, and used to thinks appearing in shops as if by magic.” Her mane and tail are a deep blood-red. I suddenly wonder what is this sauce the cherries are cooked in. “There were no cherries in Equestria until I planted the first trees. I saw a void in the world and filled it. I found my lever and moved the world. More tea?”

“N-No thank you.”

“It’s sweet.”

“I know.”

I know what everypony knows about Cherry Jubilee. She was propertyless growing up, moving around the big plantations working the fields with the other laborers. I know she bought her first plot of land partly by selling a shovel she had made herself with broken wood and iron scraps she got at the shipyard near the port. Her first seeds were planted by hoof, literally. Now she owns one of the biggest fruit orchards in Equestria. Her formal events are incredibly select. She hosts balls. Who does that?

And Princess Celestia herself chose Cherry Jubilee to organize next year’s Grand Galloping Gala after this year’s was canceled due to the Great Succession. I can tell she is very proud because she hasn’t mentioned it to me even once. It wouldn’t do, you see. I don’t know what it wouldn’t do, but it’s the sort of thing that wouldn’t.

Can you tell me anything about your plans for the Grand Galloping Gala next year?

Oh, I don’t want to ruin any surprises. I’ve consulted with my niece to keep things, oh, what did she say? Hip? Possibly knee joint. Yes, the gala is going to be knee joint. I’ve been negotiation with a band she likes. Burst music, I think.

“Pop,” probably.

You may be right.

Why do you think we see such strong segregation of pony types in industries? I was in Silipone Valley last month where almost everypony in business there are Unicorns funded by Pegasi, yet the owners of every major fruit orchard are Earth Ponies.

We keep our hoofs on the ground and the shade on our faces. The earth needs attention. The trees need care. What Pegasus has time to notice the rustling life beneath her? What Unicorn can bear to concentrate on the slow ripening of soil when she has the world of magic at her horntip?

Rising trends in inequality don’t bother you?

Bother me? Everypony has their place. It’s just becoming easier for them to find it.

Next year’s Grand Galloping Gala coincides with the decennial Fruit Salad, doesn’t it? Are there plans to combine the two, or will you not attend the Salad?

I thought I might bring the ladies to Canterlot. It will be good to see everypony again.

The whole coven back together, eh?

(She treats me to a stony glare. I fully anticipate the next glass of sweet tea will have some saliva in it.)

Ahem…what do you say to rumors of witchcraft? Your competitors might accusing you of, ahem, juicing, if you'll pardon the pun.

If I were a witch, would it really be wise to ask me that?

Is that why the creek we passed has so many tadpoles? Equestria wants an answer, Ms. Jubilee!

I employ a number of burly stallions who help me around the farm. I’m sure they’d be delighted to help you get a better look at the creek.

Let’s move on. The economy has been rocked by a succession, a financial crisis, and a technology bubble in recent months. As a business owner, how does this affect your outlook on the future? What do you want to see more of from the leaders of our economy?

It’s not confidence-inspiring, of course, but I do like to take the long view of things. I reckon as long as ponies are inclined to make money, then no matter how bumpy the path, we’ll get to where we’re going in the end.

And that is…?

Well, they say there’s a special destination for witches.

Ah ha…any comments on rising tensions between ponies and buffaloes in the southwest? There’s a lot of Apples there….

Yes, the Apple family, fine old family, hm, met Granny Smith at several Salads, fine mare. Fine family. No, I haven’t heard anything anypony doesn’t already know. I’m sure I wouldn’t know what a buffalo thinks about the matter.

Thank you for your time.

Author's Notes:

There was more to the interview, but the same boring questions that Cherry Jubilee answers in every interview, like "what was the best crop you ever had?" and "what is your favorite kind of cherry?"