On the weekend, Apple Bloom's grounding ended and the Cutie Mark Crusaders had an official meeting in the clubhouse without Rumble. Then they went into the house for apples and popcorn. Apple Bloom set up Oranges to Oranges on the kitchen table.

"I still don't get this game," muttered Scootaloo, eyeing Sweetie Belle's pile of wins. She hadn't won a single game so far and only about four rounds in all which had her tied with Apple Bloom for a distant last place.

"It doesn't really have specific rules fer success," Apple Bloom replied absently, looking over the two cards before her.

"I win because I'm funny," boasted Sweetie.

Scootaloo shrugged in frustration. "Well then there's obviously a technique to the game."

"Ah pick 'overrated,'" declared Apple Bloom, pushing the card away.

Sweetie pumped her hoof. "Yes! That's mine!"

"Okay, that's enough Oranges to Oranges," grumbled Scootaloo, crossing her forelegs. "Let's do something I can beat Sweetie Belle at."

"What's that?" scoffed Sweetie Belle.

"Race you upstairs," challenged Scootaloo, springing from her chair. She got to her marks in the entryway, with a coiled athletic stance.

"Okay," agreed Sweetie Belle, sauntering over to set up next to her.

"On three," said Scootaloo. "One… Two…"

Sweetie charged forward from the start line.

"Hey, you jumped the gun," blasted Scootaloo angrily as the two of them thundered up the stairs.

Apple Bloom followed quickly behind them, leaving the game on the table. When she reached her room, she saw Sweetie bouncing triumphantly on her bed.

"I win! I win!"

"Ugh, you cheated," grumbled Scootaloo.

Apple Bloom's eyes fell on the shoebox sitting at the edge of her bed. She'd forgotten to put it away. Before the filly could act to secure it, Sweetie bounced the box into the air where it lost its lid. It landed on the floor, spilling dozens of black and white photos over the old floorboards.

"Oh, sorry," gasped Sweetie Belle. She hopped to the floor and began levitating pictures into the air to help put them away. "I can-" She stopped mid sentence as her eyes fell on an image of her own sleeping face, no doubt from a sleepover. She scrunched up her face in concern and looked down to see another photograph, this one a closeup of the place below her curly duotone tail. Her eyes grew huge in horror.

"What?" she whimpered. "Why do you have this?" She didn't wait for an answer before she started shredding the images with gritted teeth and tears forming in her eyes.

"Wait. Don't do that," cried Apple Bloom in protest as she tried to snatch away the rapidly disintegrating pictures.

"What kind of friend would do this?" Sweetie shot back.

Scootaloo began spreading out more of the photos with her hoof. Her mouth dropped open as she picked out a candid photo of her in a deep kiss with Rumble against a tree in the woods. Around it were half a dozen others just of Rumble, some with him posing for the camera and others where he seemed unaware he was being photographed.

Alarmed at their discovery, Apple Bloom dove on top of the pile a few moments too late and frantically tried to wrangle every loose photo underneath her barrel.

"What the hell is this?" snarled Scootaloo. "You've been spying on us? I can't believe you'd do this. You're just some disgusting closet pervert! What do you do with all these?"

"Ah- Well…"

Humiliated, Sweetie Belle galloped from the room, crying.

"Wait, Sweetie," called Apple Bloom desperately. "They're- they're fer an assignment."

Scootaloo slapped Apple Bloom hard across the face. "I knew there was something going on with you and Rumble! Don't come near me or my coltfriend ever again!" She turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Apple Bloom slumped over her pile of photographs.

A tear pattered onto the picture of Rumble taking a picture of her, followed by a drop of blood from her nose. The taste of metal started to slide down the back of her throat and she began to sob. Her cries gradually became louder, her body heaving violently with her spasming diaphragm. She felt awful… or wonderful. She didn't notice when her sobs turned into unexplained manic laughter while she stared into the photo of Rumble.

---

Apple Bloom stood in the living room staring into the display case, right at the camera. She'd lost track of time.

"Hey, where's Scootaloo 'n' Sweetie Belle?" asked Applejack from the doorway, a perplexed expression on her face.

"They left," replied Apple Bloom absently, without looking away from the case.

"Already?" Applejack waited an inordinate amount of time before her sister finally responded.

"Yeah."

Applejack scratched her head at the peculiar exchange, a bit unnerved that Apple Bloom was still intently watching the camera like it was a magic show. "Ah assume ya wanna… go take pictures?"

"Yeah."

"Well, ya know what ya gotta do… Is somethin' wrong?"

"No."

Applejack paused, trying to piece together why everything about this seemed so odd. Though she eventually gave up and drifted away, she was no less perturbed.

Apple Bloom dragged herself away from the locked up camera and went outside with the egg basket. She got a sack of feed out of the storage barrel along the fence and began spreading seed for the chickens. When every last one was pecking in the dirt, she turned to the hen house and gazed into the darkness of the little chicken door. Suddenly, inspiration struck her like a meteorite. Her eyes widened in glorious revelation and her mouth twisted into a smile. This work would be her magnum opus.

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