“Mashed into cider?” Flim starts off in the same chipper voice he uses to sell off any of his ‘wares’. It grates not only on Rainbow Dash but the other ponies, teeth grinding that they might see her suggestion as a joke instead of a serious possibility. “That is a truly karmic-”

“Not to mention utterly and incontrovertibly barbaric-” Flam adds with similar cheer.

“-Punishment!” Flim turns to Celestia and Luna; they regard him coldly, their expressions shared by many of the crowd. He offers the rulers a contrite, though obviously feigned, bow. “But surely ponies as wise and understanding such as yourselves would realize the grave error of such a vacuous approach?”

Celestia stands imperiously above the two, a stern glare the alabaster alicorn reserves for particularly indolent petitioners at the Day Court. Cracks appear in their forced smiles and beads of sweat slowly roll down their faces. “Is that what you two wish to say for yourselves?”

“Sure,” Flim starts. “Our actions can be portrayed as reckless-”

“-Negligent-” Flam adds with a touch of boredom, twirling his hoof lazily.

“-Maybe even wildly irresponsible!” Flim flashes everypony a wide, fake grin. It buys him little sympathy. “But all it needs is this!” His horn flares, attaching a tiny warning label explaining that the heavy machinery is not to be used by, around, or especially on foals and particularly small or lightweight mares. “There! Problem solved.” He goes to join Flam on their mode of transportation.

“Except problem ain’t solved!” Applejack strides forward, Pomarbo at her side and mostly clean. Her eyes shine like the window of the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, barely containing the fury within. “That all?” she demands, scowling. Doug stands, leaving an unamused Twilight to join her. “No apology, no remorse, no nothin’? Ya just plan on gallopin’ off an’ avoidin’ all the pain an’ sufferin’ ya caused?”

“Er,” Flim stalls, surprised at the outburst. “Well, you see, the thing is, we go through iterations in all our endeavors. That’s why there’s a legal limit on the amount of weevil eggs in flour.” He offers a hollow grin along with his attempt at levity. “And why we’re at the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy six thousand and not one.”

Celestia’s eyes narrow, her head tilting down slightly. Behind her, Rarity’s eyes go wide, her hoof shuddering at the thought of any such infestation that might occur.

Flam takes an unsteady step forward, taking a much different tack when he sees Flim’s not working. “I-it was an unforeseen and unexpected oversight, Your Highness. We engineered the apple accumulator to accommodate objects approximately the area of an apple, but the flexibility requirement allows a certain expansion of the material. As well, due to the Apple’s penchant for growing apples of abnormally excessive diameter, we included an extra factor to make sure any such anomalies would not occlude the operation, especially for such an inceptive exhibition.”

Celestia’s head cocks to the side slightly, one of the few to appear as if she perfectly understood Flam’s obfuscating explanation. The rest of the ponies nod along nervously, exchanging unsure glances.

“You did not anticipate a curious foal?” she asks, perhaps less accusatory than Applejack or Doug might have liked. “One who might have, against your explicit instructions, decided to operate the machinery without a responsible adult present?”

“It’s like y’all’ve never even heard of the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Applejack spits out. After saying the words, though, her sharp tone lessens; she remarks, almost rueful, “There’s foal-proof, and then there’s CMC-proof. And Ah ain’t never heard of somethin’ bein’ CMC-proof.”

“Hey!” Scootaloo pipes up, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle right behind her as she steps forward. “We resemble that remark!”

“Resent,” Sweetie Belle corrects.

“No, pretty sure she means resemble,” Apple Bloom says, Scootaloo nodding. They, along with Celestia and Applejack, turn back to regard Flim and Flam.

“Y’all’ve been pullin’ this charade ‘long as Ah can remember,” Applejack continues, ignoring Flim’s attempt to speak up and interrupt her. “Makin’ slip-shod goods’n services that do nothin’ for nopony! And then pullin’ out when your plan goes ta shambles! If y’all put in half the effort into makin’ somethin’ ponies use instead’a somethin’ that used ponies? Ya could be known across Equestria!”

“But we are known across Equestria,” Flim counters, finally getting a word in.

“A household name, in fact!” Flam adds.

“As con-ponies and bamboozlers,” Applejack spits out, her temper rising again. “Equestria’d be better off if you two charlatans were locked away!”

“If it is your wish to press charges,” Celestia states formally, drawing herself up as if to assume her role of the highest judge. There is a note of sorrow in her voice, her muzzle curling to a slight frown.

“Now, wait!” Flim shouts frantically. “This is a gross miscarriage of justice! We demand a trial of our peers!”

“And since we happen to be nonpareil,” Flam drawls, yawning.

“Justice?” Applejack snaps, cutting off Flam. “Where’s the justice for all those ponies ya’ve conned over the years? Huh? Hay, Ah’d push for petrification, but bein’ a statue’d be more prestige than you deserve!”

“Yes,” Flim agrees, smirking at Applejack. “You’d rather see us sent to a grisly demise inside our own ‘death trap’, as your feathered friend so eloquently elucidated. Our bodies cruelly crushed!”

“-Pitilessly pulverized-” Flam adds, languishing on top of the machine with a hoof at his forehead.

“-All for your perverse pleasure,” Flim ends, shaking his head.

The crowd of ponies begin mumbling with uncertainty, troubled by the imagery.

“Eeyup,” Applejack retorts, unfazed. Doug nods next to her, arms crossed, the two staring the unicorns down.

“Hah!” Flim jeers. “Admit it! You’re a sadist. Ever since we showed up you’ve been looking for any excuse at all to do away with us, and now you’ve found it!”

“Excuse?” Doug asks, unyielding.

“But we agree,” Flim continues, taking off his straw hat and holding it against his chest with mock contrition. “For the crime-”

“-The heinous, unforgivable transgression-” Flam adds, copying his brother’s remorse.

“-Of having our machinery improperly operated?” Flim puts his hat back on, standing up straight and undaunted. “Flam?”

“Yes, Flim?” Flam asks, donning his hat and matching the defiant stance.

“We shall accept our fate! We confess our contemptible crime and take our death with dignity! So send us off, you cruel hoof of fate!” He turns to Applejack with a poorly concealed smirk. “Unless somepony has had a change of heart?”

“Nnope,” Applejack returns, stone-faced. Doug rolls his shoulders before walking up and hefting the shocked unicorn to his shoulder.

“Y-you’re sure?” Flim asks, voice trembling for the first time. He glances down as his hooves leave the ground. “It’s not easy to raise your hoof and send somepony off to die without talking about it first!”

“Ah’m sure,” Applejack says. “Y’all’ve done enough talkin’.”

“You would deny your family so readily?” Flam adds, visibly shaken. He frantically looks at the Princesses, then the shocked crowd, as Doug doesn’t stop. “Y-you’re bluffing!”

“Am Ah?” Applejack states, staring up into Flim’s eyes. She doesn’t blink, and neither does he. “Element of Honesty here. Ah know when a pony’s cowardice outweighs her conviction. And Ah’m callin’ yours.”

Doug takes a few ponderous steps, able to hoist the stallion over the lip of the funnel. The entrance of the tube does seem a bit small, unable to accommodate the limp unicorn. Muffled noises come from the audience, quite a number now unsure whether the punishment similarly fits the crime.

“Oh, but we won’t fit!” Flim mourns, holding one hoof against his forehead melodramatically. “I suppose we can’t go through with this morbid plan after all.”

“I’ve been there when my mares gave birth,” Doug says, completely serious. “This can’t be any worse. But if you’re so worried; Dash, can you get my cleaver?”

Cerulean eyes bulge as Rainbow Dash reluctantly flies closer, ears flat against her head. “Y-your good one?”

“Nah, the one I used on Nightmare Night,” Doug returns without hesitation. Flim grunts in pain as his foreleg gets splayed out to the side against the golden funnel. “The big bloody one with the notch. I want to make sure I take the leg off with one go.”

“Y-you got it,” Rainbow Dash says, clutching her hooves over her mouth while flying off, a sentiment now shared by many others.

“No way, no how!” Granny Smith pipes up. A collective sigh of relief goes out as the elderly green mare objects. “Here at Sweet Apple Acres, we only use the freshest ingredients. There ain’t no way you’re turnin’ those two rotten apples into cider!”

“Ah,” Doug counters grimly. “But we aren’t at Sweet Apple Acres. We’re making Flim Flam Field’s Fermented Fruit. And they seem to have an issue with quality control.” He offers Rainbow Dash a brief smile as she returns bearing a notched cleaver as long as his forearm, the wooden handle stained a dark red. “Any last words?”

An apple dropping somewhere in the background can be heard in the ensuing silence.

“You’re a monster,” Flim flatly accuses.

Doug nods rather than deny the claim. “I am a monster,” he agrees, prodding the blunt tip of the cleaver against Flim’s shoulder. The unicorn gasps as a few ponies in the crowd take a step back. “Yet I harness that side of me; I choose when and where to let it out. And against somepony as unrepentant about their actions as you?” He shakes his head solemnly as he raises the cleaver. “I’ll sleep soundly tonight. Twilight, if you’ll do the honors of starting it up?”

“Wait!” Flam shouts as Twilight stands. “Stop!”

“Why?” Doug demands harshly. Flim gulps as he slips a little further, staring down the long, dark tube, his foreleg cruelly twisted behind him. “We’ve given them at least six opportunities to show remorse, to express regret over what they’ve done and change! How many more must we give them?”

“When our sisters and brothers transgress against us and beg forgiveness?” Twilight flies over to Doug, laying a calming hoof on the lunar moon tattooed across his back. He slowly lowers the cleaver, regarding her carefully. “Not six times, but sixty times six.”

Doug snorts. “Princess Luna apologized about what she did, truly expressed remorse. Them?”

He lets go of Flim’s foreleg; the unicorn paws at the slippery sides, skidding down until his head dips into the tunnel. Then Doug grabs onto his back legs, hauls the surprised unicorn out and drops him roughly to the ground.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle seems to think there is something in you worth saving,” Doug says gravely as Flim recovers with short, rapid breaths. He shakes his head as he drops the cleaver to his side, the steel cold against his skin. “And, hey, maybe she’s right; she gave Chrysalis a choice, and now the bug’s on our side. Are you going to prove her wrong?”

“What ya’ve done before ain’t right,” Applejack interjects, calmer but no less serious. “Sure, ya might’a never outright lied to anypony ya sold your goods ta, but that ain’t the same as bein’ honest. Ah mean, look at this!” She motions to the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000. “Why can’t ya make more things like this, things that work?”

“To be fair,” Flim remarks dryly. Doug offers him a hand, which he reluctantly takes. “Being honest also got us the closest we’ve ever come to something actually bad happening, too.”

“Then don’t skimp out on the safety measures,” Applejack returns, her voice raising. “Do more testing than just whether or not you and your horn-brained brother can get hurt and think about somepony else! Don’t take shortcuts, an’ use quality materials! That’s the Apple way, and it works!”

Flim stares at her for a few long seconds. “Hey, Flam?”

“Yes, brother of mine?” Flam returns.

Flim grins. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’ve made more than a fair number of bits doing what we’ve been doing,” Flam says, twirling his mustache.

Flim nods. “I dare say, it might be best to get out while we’re ahead.”

“Straight shooting.” Flam considers the proposition, frowning. “We’d lose out on some of our extraneous arrangements.”

Flim snorts. “Like where the mare never compared the pair of hares.”

Behind them, Trixie gasps. “That’s how you did it!”

Before The Incensed and Irate Trixie can interfere, Flam steps up to Applejack. “I dare say, cousin of mine, you drive a hard yet fair bargain.”

“Not that we expected anything less from the Element of Honesty herself!” Flim adds.

“But before agreeing to an arduous and onerous undertaking such as this?” Flam pulls out a crate. He grins at the crowd, displaying bottles filled with amber liquid. “I could sure use a tonic to bolster my bravery!”

“Tonic?” Doug says, chuckling as he fondly recalls the term.

“That’s right, folks,” Flim announces loudly. “The Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic! Not only does this wondrous panacea provide protection against illness and injury-”

“-A surety as sure as the sun rises-” Flam adds.

“But against all maladies and miseries this life might manifest!” Flim grins as he holds a bottle of tonic out for Doug, any enmity he might have held seemingly gone. “You, sir, seem like the kind of stallion who could use such a safeguard!”

“After what you put me through?” Doug quips, accepting a bottle. He cracks the top, sipping with a happy sigh. “Don’t know about all that other stuff, but this stuff works-”

“You heard it here first, folks!” Flim shouts, many ponies taking a sudden interest. “Flim Flam Miracle Curative Tonic, tested and approved by the stallion of the Princesses! Get yours now while supplies last!” He somehow finds and passes a filled-out form to Doug. “I don’t suppose you object to us using your likeness in our advertising?”

“-Off the placebo effect,” Doug finishes. He doesn’t take the paper.

Flim turns a cold eye at Doug. “Ah,” he says in a low voice, grinning as he wraps a hoof around the human’s back. “I see you sense the secret to our success. But what else were we supposed to do with all the apple juice we went through perfecting the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy?”

Doug looks down at the bottle in his hand. “And it works as advertised?”

“It’s a well documented phenomenon that, when a pony believes something will happen, it is more likely to occur.” Flim motions at the bottle of tonic. “And if this tonic helps them to believe in something, doesn’t that make it effective and thus true?”

Doug turns the bottle to look at the label, a relief of two smiling unicorns. “I think I’ll leave that philosophical discussion to Applejack, thanks.”

“Well, speaking of the pony of the hour,” Flim says as he and Flam approach a wary Applejack. He pulls a small trinket from somewhere, bending down on one knee. “As a token of our sincerity and honesty, I would like to present this silver shill.”

“Um,” Applejack says tentatively. She hesitates, unsure of how to best express her gratitude, and takes the silver coin. It feels lighter than it should. “Thanks, Ah guess.”

Flim continues bombastically, “This is the first such token we minted-”

“-Not as a counterfeit of the Equestrian Bit, of course,” Flam adds. “But because ponies are far looser with their money when it doesn’t have the same connection.”

“And you’re telling me this…” Applejack asks dubiously, eyebrows narrowing.

“Because as we give up this token,” Flim answers, “we also give up any schemes, ventures, enterprises, and other such operations that illicitly or illegitimately part ponies from their bits.”

The silver shilling shimmers with a rainbow shine, lingering on an orange tint that fades after a few seconds.

“Huh.” Applejack looks around curiously; nopony else seems to have reacted to the color shift. She tucks the coin away in her Stetson.

“I’m sure we can work out any details at some future time,” Flim says with a wink at Applejack.

“But now?” Flam hoists a barrel to the top of the table. “We have a whole town’s worth of cider to drink!”

A cheer goes up among the gathered ponies as the first mugs are filled. Pinkie Pie carts away a full two dozen, the entirety of the barrel, to share with the mares of the herd.

“You know,” Rainbow Dash remarks somberly, swishing the cider around in her mouth with a bit of a grimace. None of the other ponies outside their herd seem to be complaining. “For having as much cider as I wanted? I kind of thought it would taste better than this.”

“Ah know what ya mean,” Applejack says, not having sampled hers yet. She stares at Granny Smith; would her grandmare publicly chastise her for going against Sweet Apple Acre tradition? Or would she keep those thoughts to herself, observe and weather the change, just like she’s doing with all the other changes going on?

She takes a sip of her cider, frowning at the off-taste. Not like their normal Red Delicious. It’s more like…

“Oh!” Applejack exclaims, chuckling to herself. “That’s ‘cause this barrel used every apple instead’a sortin’ ‘em! No wonder it tastes off!”

She motions at the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, shaking her head, only to spot a curious colt cresting the golden lip of the suction tube. “‘Bo! Get down from there!”

Next Chapter: Ch. 63 - Frozen Trail, Part One Estimated time remaining: 21 Hours, 51 Minutes