The Wrong Equestria

By Silvertie

A pear, and cents

The chariot touched down on the dirt of a tall hill, and the door opened, allowing Twilight and Applejack to step out onto terra firma. Being creatures of the ground, flying was always, at least deep down, a harrowing experience. More so when it was in a strange land filled with odd ponies, under the variable light of a moon that never actually set for reasons that had never really been established or explained.

Surely the reasons had to be good, right? Twilight thought. Because everything, quite honestly, looked sickly under this disturbingly bright, white, day-time moonlight. Especially the village that lay before them, entirely visible from their elevated position atop the hill.

“Ponyville,” The Night Guard pulling the chariot announced, a tad unnecessarily. “Do you know where you’re going from here?”

“Tell us anyway,” Twilight sighed. “I don’t want to go by what I know, and find ourselves in Froggy Bottom Bog because everything’s all messed up in this world.”

If the very brief rant registered with the Guard, he didn’t show it. “Right, Everfree Forest is over that way, see it on the horizon, there?” The guard pointed with a blue-steel-shod hoof, and the two mares nodded. “And if you need more help, ask the residents of Ponyville. I’m sure they’ll oblige.”

“Uh-” Applejack began, but was cut off when the chariot lifted off into the air, the Night Guard waving at them cheerfully from the harness.

“Thanks for flying Nightmare Air!” He called out, before banking around and rapidly rising into the sky.

“Ah don’t even know what’s going on,” Applejack said, taking her hat off and rubbing her head. “This world’s doin’ my head in.”

“Don’t worry,” Twilight said, doing her best to soothe her friend’s nerves. “It’ll all be over soon. We just need to go and deal with Celestia, get the gems and go home.”

“It’s just...” Applejack looked at the town of Ponyville. “Ah’m worried about what Ah’ll find down there. Ah know Ponyville like the back of my hoof, an’ Ah can’t shake this feelin’ that something’s terribly wrong down there.”

“Well,” Twilight tilted her head. “Let’s not go to Ponyville, then. Let’s just go straight to the forest, that way we won’t have to see the town.”

“Good plan, Twi,” Applejack smiled. “Ah guess that’s why you’re the Princess’ protege, then. Let’s go straight to the forest.”

~~~~~~~

“You can’t go straight to the forest.”

“This is ridiculous,” Applejack complained. “You’re bein’ ridiculous, RD.”

Rainbow Dash lazed on a cloud at ground level, reclining on a fluffy white cloud and wearing sunglasses, even as she twirled her baton idly and the small badge of office hanging on a chain around her neck glinted in the sunlight. It was accordingly hard to take her seriously, even when the badge did proclaim her to be part of “Ponyville PD”; however, the wall of low-hanging stormclouds behind her, crackling with electricity was not. It was quite a long wall, easily stretching off for miles to either side of the road on which Rainbow Dash had parked her cloud.

“Sorry,” Rainbow Dash drawled. “Them’s the breaks. Gotta have a permit to get into the forest these days.”

“Okay, we need a permit. How do we get one?” Twilight asked.

“Get the permit card, of course,” Rainbow Dash answered, responding more readily to the calm Twilight than the increasingly irate Applejack. “You hold that permit card, you got a permit.”

“And how do we get the permit card?”

“Well,” Rainbow Dash rubbed the back of her head. “Get it off the pony who currently has it, of course.”

“What?” Twilight blinked. “You mean there’s only one permit card for all of Ponyville?”

“Hah!” Rainbow Dash laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Good, because I-”

“There’s only one in all of Equestria! The Everfree’s a dangerous place, you know!”

Twilight took a deep breath, and pushed the urge to throttle her alternate universe friend with her magic deep down. Very deep down.

“Pray tell,” she said, eyes closed and doing her level best to keep her voice neutral, “Who has the card right now?”

“Uh,” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “I dunno. I think... Rarity? Yeah, Rarity. I think. Probably.”

“Why would Rarity...?” Twilight let the question trail off, and turned back to Rainbow Dash. “So, we won’t need anything else?”

“Nope, “Rainbow Dash said, “Just get that card, and you’re all set to do whatever it was that you wanted to do in the Everfree.”

“Fine.” Twilight nodded to Applejack and turned away. “Come on, let’s go pay Rarity a visit, and get that permit card thing.”

“Right behind ya, Twi,” Applejack nodded, adjusting her hat and turning her back on the pony who was, in another world, a friend.

“Hey,” Rainbow Dash perked up. “You’re Twilight Sparkle, right? Could I get your autograph?”

Twilight turned around. “Will you let us through if I give it to you?”

“Uh,” Rainbow Dash looked at the storm wall and Twilight. “Um, no.”

“Then no autograph.”

Twilight kept walking, hoping things would work the way she wanted. What she got was a disappointed “Oh” from Rainbow Dash, and not another sound.

Twilight and Applejack got out of earshot, and Twilight confided in Applejack. “I was so sure that would work.”

“I guess, even in this messed-up, filthy, pear-centric world, RD’s still the Element of Loyalty,” Applejack shrugged.

~~~~~~~

The two ponies walked through Ponyville. They’d expected the worst, for nothing to be familiar. Applejack had expected a running theme of pears.

To their surprise, there were very few surprises. A few new faces, but otherwise, if they didn’t know better, they’d say they were back home. And so far, no pears. All was well.

At least, until they were reminded just where they were, when they saw the town square. A familiar wooden carriage was parked there, with a familiar wooden stage protruding from the side, with an even more familiar light blue unicorn mare standing front and center. A mare that had made a fool of one of the pair, and been made a fool of by the other.

“Trixie,” Applejack growled. “What is that showboatin’ fraudster doin’ here...?”

“Come one, come all!” Trixie shouted, her voice easily carrying over the audience. “Witness feats beyond comprehension! Magical powers beyond knowing!”

The carriage was slowly being surrounded by a growing crowd of ponies, and Twilight groaned. “Not this again.”

“Behold,” Trixie cried, “The great, the powerful... FLUTTERSHY!”

Twilight and Applejack did a double-take.

“Did- Did she just say...?” Applejack’s voice came to a halt as she was lost for words.

“I think she did,” Twilight said, running to get closer to the stage, Applejack not far behind.

Up on the stage, with an explosion of smoke and fireworks, a pony appeared in a haze, and slowly materialized into the shape of a timid pegasus that Twilight and Applejack knew and loved. Only dressed in a purple cape and pointed hat, both articles bedecked with glittery stars.

“It is,” breathed Applejack. “Well, Ah’ll be.”

“Um, hello,” Fluttershy said, her voice struggling to carry over the audience as Trixie stepped back and vanished backstage. “Thank you for coming. I’ll be... performing some tricks today. Magic tricks. They’re pretty great. Um.”

The crowd was, surprisingly, silent, waiting for Fluttershy to keep going.

“Right,” The pegasus nodded. “So, um, for my first trick, I’ll be... um, sawing my lovely assistant in half. If that’s okay with you.”

“Trixie gettin’ sawed in half?” Applejack muttered, leaning over to Twilight. “This, Ah’d pay to see, magic or no.”

“Applejack!”

“Hey,” the farmpony countered. “You’re not the one she made a foal out of.”

There was a squeaking of wheels in the air, as Trixie re-emerged, pushing a long box borne on a simple metal frame with wheels, to the accompaniment of music from offstage. As the lid was popped open, and the box spun around to reveal a total lack of deceptions or tricks inside or underneath the box, the crowd’s excitement began to mount. With a sliding of steel, Trixie produced a pair of long, square blades, intended to separate the box quite neatly down the middle. Applejack perked up when an apple was produced, and the sharpness of the blades proved when Fluttershy threw the apple into the air, and with two swings of the blades, Trixie sliced the apple into four rough discs.

Trixie, with much posturing and fanfare, got into the box, and Fluttershy closed it, snapping it shut with a convenient padlock. She rattled it, and presented it to the audience to prove that the box was, in fact, sealed tight. No escape.

Fluttershy raised one of the blades between her hooves, and hovering over the box, placed the first blade quite firmly through the provided slit at the top of the box. With an audible shunk, the blade slid home, and the crowd oohed appropriately as Trixie didn’t seem to mind at all, still smiling and winking at members of the audience. Fluttershy repeated the feat, sliding blade number two home, and undid the latches on the sides of the box to separate the two halves.

The crowd began to clap and applaud loudly as the box separated without a problem, and Fluttershy seemed to look at the trick for the first time. Offstage, the music suddenly died as the needle jumped track and went silent.

“Oh my goodness!” She shrieked. “Oh my! Trixie! Oh no, this is all wrong! Oh my gosh! I’ve cut you in half!”

The applause rapidly died off as the audience sensed that something was not going as planned, and struggled to decide if they should be enjoying the show or calling an ambulance.

“Trixie is fine!” Trixie shouted. From the second half of the box, two hooves kicked to emphasize the point. “Totally fine! The Great and Powerful Fluttershy is so Great and Powerful that she simply doesn’t know her own power! Now,” Trixie said, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “Please, Fluttershy, stop panicking because this is how the trick is supposed to go, and finish it please!”

Fluttershy snapped out of her frantic panicking, and nodded. “Right, of course. Okay. Um, you can see that Trixie has been cut in half.”

Fluttershy carefully spun the two half-boxes around, and as she did, the music found its groove again, and the music resumed more or less where it left off.

The audience watched, enthralled, as the two boxes were brought together with a soft click. Fluttershy, hovering above the spinning boxes, threw a red cloth blanket over the top, concealing them completely, save for the obvious shape of Trixie’s head and hindlegs protruding from the box. With a flourish, Fluttershy pulled her hat off, and reached inside. With a tug, she pulled out a rabbit, and looked at it in surprise.

“A-Angel?”

The white rabbit drummed a foot instinctively in the air, and Fluttershy gave a smile that could thaw even the coldest heart. Those with already soft hearts had to drop to a knee and steady themselves. Only the deaf and blind were spared the merciless onslaught of adorableness, their ears unheeding of the faint squee that accompanied the smile.

The rabbit was returned to the hat, and after a more vigorous rummage, a wand was produced; nothing fancy, just a black affair with white tips. It was flourished, spun, and eventually tapped on the box.

With an explosion of pink smoke and a wet sound, the audience gasped as the box, Trixie and Fluttershy vanished inside an obscuring, gaseous cloud. The billowing cloud slowly thinned, and Fluttershy was left standing next to something out of a horror film.

The box had been ripped apart from the inside, red, organic material liberally coating the inside and stage surrounding the box, and hanging off the splinters and out of the holes in the box. Several members of the audience, as well as Fluttershy, looked at the vaguely pony-shaped lump of bright-red flesh inside the box.

“Oh my,” Fluttershy said, faintly. She dipped a hoof inside the box, and to loud noises of disgust, scooped out a lump of flesh and ate it, smacking her lips. “Tomato.”

The crowd relaxed a little as they realized that the box was not filled with ponyflesh, but with tomatoflesh, and began to chuckle as they discussed how they’d been had. Applejack leaned over to Twilight.

“What Ah wanna know is, where’s Trixie?”

“Trixie is right here,” a female voice said, on Applejack’s other side. The farmpony startled, to see a pony who had been nose-deep in a newspaper putting it down, revealing the blue showmare sitting quite calmly in a brown trenchcoat and fedora. She whipped the clothes off, and reared up as the audience turned around, and saw her.

The stomping of the audience filled the air, and Fluttershy and Trixie both took their bows, the audience genuinely mystified.

“Thank you for coming to today’s show,” Fluttershy declared, loudly. “We’ll be here all week! See you tomorrow!”

The crowd murmured in excitement, and began to disperse. Applejack looked at Twilight.

“Alright, how’d they do it, Twi? You gotta tell me.”

“How’d they do what?” Twilight asked, oblivious.

“Trixie,” Applejack said, nodding at the stage, where the tomato was being cleaned up. “How’d Trixie get down here so fast? And without me noticin’?”

“Trade secret,” a confident voice said. The pair looked up, and saw Fluttershy hovering in the air not far from them. “Twilight Sparkle?”

“That’s me,” Twilight nodded. “Fluttershy, you’re a stage magician?”

“The greatest stage magician in all of Equestria,” Fluttershy corrected. “It’s good to see you again, Twilight. I thought you were in Stalliongrad.”

“So everypony keeps telling me,” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Uh, where do I know you from, again? Refresh my memory.”

Fluttershy pouted as she touched down. “Well. That’s a little insulting, to be forgotten so quickly. And after I made a whole building vanish, just for you...”

“Oh,” Twilight shook her head. “It’s not that I forgot, I just... wasn’t here to see it. I’m from a parallel Equestria.”

“Oh.” Fluttershy pursed her lips. “Well, if that’s true, then I guess it’s less of an insult. It was your... fifteenth party? Quite an event, I think you were celebrating your ninth gold medal. Trixie?”

“Yes, Fluttershy?” The showmare asked from the stage.

“When did we do trick two-eighty-four for Twilight?”

“Her fifteenth birthday!” Trixie yelled back. “Eight gold medals celebration, as well!”

“Ponyfeathers,” Fluttershy kicked the ground softly. “Knew I got something wrong. Anyway. That’s how we met.”

“So you’re famous, then?” Applejack asked.

“Famous?” Fluttershy laughed, a gentle “ha”. “No, I’m not famous. I’m Legendary. I managed to perform a trick that even the Nightmare couldn’t guess as to how it was done!”

“So what brings you to Ponyville, then?” Twilight asked, looking around. “I mean, it’s hardly a famous location like Manehattan or Haygas, no offense, Applejack.”

“None taken,” Applejack said.

“Oh,” Fluttershy rocked back and forth a bit. “This is where I started my career. Felt like stopping back here for a bit, take a holiday. It’s a nice place.”

“It is,” Twilight agreed.

“Now,” Fluttershy turned back to Twilight. “What brings you here? By all accounts, I think it’s harder to travel here from a parallel Equestria than it is from Las Pegasus. Whatever it is, it must be important.”

“Oh,” Applejack nodded. “We came here to see Princess Celestia about some gems, so we can go home. But to get that, we need the permit, which Rarity has.”

“Oh, Rarity,” Fluttershy nodded. “I know her. In fact, I need to stop by at her place on business, even. Trixie?”

“Yes, Fluttershy?” Trixie called out.

“Can you take care of packing up alone?”

“Sure,” Trixie nodded. “But I get to pick dinner tonight!”

Fluttershy laughed. “You got it. See you later, Trixie. Don’t go riling up any more Ursas!”

Trixie blushed. “Come on, that was just one time. How’d I know the firework would go off like that?”

The two performers laughed a little more, made their goodbyes, and Fluttershy walked off, taking the lead.

“It’s odd how Trixie still managed to upset an Ursa in this world as well,” Twilight mused. “I wonder if there’s just some things that never change?”

“You know Trixie in your world?” Fluttershy asked. “What’s she like?”

“Arrogant as all-get-out,” Applejack muttered. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Fluttershy nodded. “She can be a bit... theatrical, at times. Hey. If you know her,” Fluttershy leaned in close. “What’s the other me like?”

“Not nearly as outgoing,” Twilight said, leaning back. “A bit... quiet. Timid, some would say.”

Fluttershy looked a little upset. “I can’t even imagine living like a doormat,” she muttered. “I mean, I was one when I was a little filly, but... really?”

“Yeah,” Applejack nodded. “She’s a bit more assertive these days, and you wouldn’t pick her to be the one that stared down a dragon, but knock me over with a feather if it ain’t been the longest thing coming.”

Fluttershy sighed. “I guess I can’t be Great and Powerful in all universes, then.”

The group broke left down a side street; well, to be accurate, Fluttershy did. Applejack and Twilight kept walking straight ahead.

“Uh, where are you going?” Fluttershy asked. “Rarity’s is this way. Or have I misremembered?”

Twilight shrugged. “Sorry. Force of habit, Rarity’s house is usually that way, Carousel Boutique.”

“Rarity?” Fluttershy giggled. “Rarity living in a fashion store?! That’s rich! Oh, pony alive, I can’t...”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so if Rarity don’t live in a fashion store... what does she do?”

~~~~~~~

“Rock farmin’,” Applejack said. “I don’t bucking believe it.”

The trio had come quite a way out of town, and found themselves in the gem-rich planes that Twilight recognized as the home of the Diamond Dogs who had kidnapped Rarity before. Only now there were fences and signs of obvious life, a small farmhouse sitting next to fields of boulders.

“Hey, Rarity!” Fluttershy called out. “Are you home?”

A grubby window popped as it was nudge open, and a blue eye looked out, widening when it saw her visitors.

“Be right there!” a familiar voice called out. The door was flung open, and Rarity ran out, a hat perched on her head.

It was something of a shock for Twilight and Applejack. Rarity, who didn’t care to get dirty at the best of times, and wouldn’t be seen in a hat that was actually practical or didn’t have six feathers in it, was what they were used to.

Today, they got a Rarity who wore a hat that looked like what Applejack would wear if she didn’t have her faithful stetson; and that was unusual enough, never mind that she wore a set of denim dungarees, and apparently hadn’t bathed in a length of time that could be estimated in weeks, if you were conservative with how you carbon-dated the grime stuck to her and her garment.

“Fluttershy!” Rarity exclaimed. “How have you been, it’s been too long!”

The two mares ran up to one another, and after a bit of awkward sizing up, embraced with a firm hug. Twilight and Applejack cantered to keep up, and Rarity broke the embrace, looking at them.

“I see you brought some friends. New stagehooves? Wait, no... that’s... is it?” Rarity fished out a monocle from her dungarees, the lens made from a single, brilliantly cut diamond. “It is! Twilight Sparkle, the Equestrian Wonder-Athlete! What brings a national hero like yourself to my humble rock farm?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Fluttershy said, before turning to Twilight. “Rarity is the best rock farmer this side of Trottingham, honestly. I came to her for my first gems to give my act some pizazz, and I’ve never shopped anywhere else since.”

“Oh, you,” Rarity blushed, waving a grubby, alabaster hoof at Fluttershy.

“And in any case,” Fluttershy continued, “This Twilight and Applejack are from another Equestria, apparently. They seem to know you from there.”

“Whaaa?” Rarity took a step back. “My reputation is heard of in other dimensions?!”

“Sort of,” Twilight said. “We know you as a dressmaker. A really good one, at that. You’ve designed dresses for the Grand Galloping Gala, and had your lines sold all over Canterlot. I think you started a fashion trend with the dress you made me for my birthday, even.”

“Dressmaking?!” Rarity seemed mortified. “Don’t tell me they’re frou-frou...”

“The frou-iest,” Applejack said. “The kind of thing you cain’t get a day’s work done in, to be honest.”

Rarity shuddered. “Ew. No thanks. I’ll stick to rock farming.”

Fluttershy looked out over the fields, and saw rocks turning in the distance, pushed by three large shapes. Rarity nodded approvingly.

“New workers. Diamond Dogs,” Rarity explained. “Told ‘em they’d be working for whatever gems I can’t sell, and they seemed ecstatic over that alone. Best hires ever. I’ve been able to spend more time on the cutting, got them shining so smooth now, I think I’m attracting the attention of Equestrian Innovations, some nonsense about resonance cascades or something.”

“Well,” Twilight said, “If it’s any consolation, you’ve still got that eye for detail and gems in our world, even if you do make dresses.”

Rarity nodded. “I suppose it will have to do. So, you’re from another world; if you are not here for my gems, then what are you here for?”

“We were told y’all had the permit to get into the Everfree Forest,” Applejack said. “If it wouldn’t trouble you... could we have it? Give it back when we’re done, honest.”

Rarity sighed. “I’m so sorry. You just missed it, somepony else picked it up yesterday.”

“What?!” Applejack exclaimed. “Who? Who did you give it to?”

“Hmm,” Rarity tapped her chin. “It was... uh... started with a P. They lived out at the Acres.”

“Sweet Apple Acres?” Applejack asked.

“Eeeh,” Rarity waggled a hoof. “Sounds about right. Gave it to a mare that looks not a lot unlike you, actually. Only she’s sorta lime-green. Braided mane.”

Twilight had a niggling sensation as to who had the permit now, but held her tongue. “Thank you, Rarity, for helping us.”

“Certainly!” Rarity said. “The least I can do.”

Twilight looked at Applejack, who nodded.

“Let’s get that permit.”

“Don’t wait up on my account,” Fluttershy said. “I think I’ll linger and catch up with Rarity, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Applejack nodded. “Thanks for walkin’ us here, we might have spent hours lookin’ for Rarity without you.”

“Are the Acres still located out that way?” Twilight asked, pointing through the town.

Fluttershy’s eyes rolled back for a bit as she recalled Ponyville’s layout. “Should be, unless they sold up or moved elsewhere, which I doubt. The Pears have been a part of Ponyville since it was founded.”

And that’s just gone and confirmed it, Twilight thought, as Applejack stiffened at the word “pear”. Pears. This is going to be... painful.

~~~~~~~

Applejack was hyperventilating, and looked ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Twilight, by comparison, appeared to be completely calm, and all in the face of imminent conflict.

As the pair walked along the country road, they passed by familiar landmarks; Twilight recognized Golden Harvest’s carrot farm, although in this world, it appeared to have become a potato farm.

Twilight chanced at her friend. It was truly a bizzare day when Applejack was the one worrying about things being slightly out of kilter and Twilight was the calm one.

“Everythin’s all wrong,” Applejack muttered. “Th’ carrot farm’s gone, an’-” The farmpony’s eyes went wide, and she galloped up to the bend in the path ahead of them, resting her forehooves on the fence palings. “-An’ what in the tarnation happened to the south field?! What’s all this?!”

Twilight galloped up after, puffing slightly, and spotted what Applejack had spotted.

“They’re just pear trees,” Twilight cajoled, gently pushing Applejack away from the fence and down the path with her magic. The farmpony resisted briefly, before snorting, adjusting her hat and going with it.

“Jus’ pear trees, my flank,” Applejack muttered.

“What is it with you and pears?!” Twilight demanded. “I have never, ever seen anypony get as flank-flustered as you are, over anything!”

“Twilight,” Applejack said, not looking away from the road ahead of them, “Y’all are my friend, but there’s questions even you shouldn’t be askin’ of me. This is one of ‘em.”

“Applejack,” Twilight countered. “It’s clear pe-” the purple unicorn paused. “It’s clear that p-e-a-r-s are causing you anguish. And since we’re going to be dealing with somepony whose name implies that they are to p-e-a-r-s as you are to apples, I think we need to have a talk about this, before somepony gets hurt.”

Applejack stopped walking, and sighed. “Ah suppose y’all are right. I’m gettin’ right riled up, ‘s only a matter o’ time before I haul off and break somepony. Ah got... history with pears.”

Twilight blinked. “I... think this is going to need some explaining.”

Applejack nodded. “Ah wouldn’t expect y’all to know. It was back when Ah was a little filly, long ‘afore I got my cutie mark...”

~~~~~~~

You know Zap Apples, right? ‘course you do. Best jam in town. But Zap apples ain’t the only magic fruit to come outta the Everfree, and Sweet Apple Acres didn’t always only grow apples.

We used t’ grow pears, too.

Ah was real little at the time. Big mac was just startin’ at school, and Granny Smith’s hip wasn’t bung, so she was still buckin’ like she was my age. My ma and pa’d bring me with ‘em out to the fields, let me play under the trees or whatever while they went and bucked the fruit right offa ‘em.

Ah think Ah inherited m’ pa’s legs, and m’ ma’s strength.

Anyway. Work as usual, whackity-crack, when suddenly, we get this storm all of a sudden, comin’ out from the Everfree. Swirlin’ somethin’ fierce, I tell you what, and headed straight for our farm.

M’ parents packed up right fast, and we got a move on for the farmhouse, but it was clear we weren’t gonna beat the storm there. Wind howled, and thunder crashed; Ah won’t lie, Ah started cryin’ and carryin’ on, wasn’t much help.

Funny thing, though, the storm only affected some things; ‘twas rainin, but we didn’t get wet. It was blowin’, but none of the apple trees were swayin’, it was as if the air was still for them.

Thunder struck. It didn’t hit a single apple tree or us; it hit the pear trees. The only trees gettin’ affected by this peculiar storm.

And like that, the storm was gone. We were standin’ in the middle of a pear orchard, and jus’ watchin those trees bloom; pears the size o’ foals started growin, and only got bigger; so big, they practically picked themselves, fallin’ off their stems with a thud.

Ma and Pa were amazed; nopony’d ever seen pears this big before. Magic is as magic does, Granny says, and I reckon she’s about right - t’weren’t no way to explain this’n, but those pears started movin’ on their own, like they was alive.

Now, Ah ain’t sayin’ this sorta thing is common, but it didn’t phase Ma and Pa none. And Ah gotta say, livin’ in Ponyville does that to you - wierd happens, it’s the forest. They wrangled up those pears lickety split, got ‘em all coralled up while we tried to work out what to do.

See, the pears had grown hooves. And mouths. No eyes, but they seemed to get by just fine without ‘em, perhaps some other senses. We watered ‘em, they seemed happy.

Only, that’s when it started. One night, we heard this rippin’ and tearin’ from the pen, and when we got out there, we were down a few pears, the others huddlin’ in the corner, spooked somethin’ fierce. Torn t’ bits.

Figured it was a timber wolf or somethin’, so we kept a watch out on ‘em. Nothin’ happened for the rest of the night, and come daytime, we went off and went about our day, thinkin’ that the giant pears’d be safe in the daytime.

We get back, another half dozen are torn up, about half of what was left. Baffled us somethin’ proper, how something like that happens. For safety’s sake, we moved ‘em inside the house proper, so whatever it was couldn’t finish ‘em off. Couldn’t fit ‘em anywhere else, so we put ‘em in the kitchen, and they seemed happy.

We got to dinner time, and it was a Sunday - that means apple pie for dessert, same as it always does, and Granny had her pies down pat by then. Granny went into the kitchen, and screeched like a... a... consarnit. A screechy thing. Kitchen was a mess, like somepony’d got in a tussle in there. One hay of a tussle. Me and Mac couldn’t produce a mess that big if we tried, Ah reckon.

Ah got to the kitchen, and you know what I saw? A pear, sittin’ in the middle of a pile of destroyed fruit.

The mongrel had eaten our apple pies. Ah didn’t stand for that, and Ah still don’t - do what you like, but Sunday Pie is sacred in the Apple household, and that’s why I hate pears.

~~~~~~~

Twilight’s brow creased as she tried to wrap her head around the anecdote.

“...So a magic storm turned your pears into walking pears?”

“Yup,” Applejack nodded.

“...And you hate them because one of them ate your dessert?”

“Y’ don’t buck with Sunday Pie in the Apple Homestead, Twi,” confirmed Applejack.

“So, no other reasons you might not like pears?”

“Twi,” Applejack rested a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Y’all are my friend, but if you ever cross me and ruin Sunday Pie, Ah will make a point of endin’ you.”

“Don’t you think you’re-”

“What do y’ think happened to the last town librarian?” Applejack said, in a low voice.

Twilight paled. “You don’t mean...?”

Applejack kept the malevolent look up for about three seconds, before brightening and jabbing Twilight in the shoulder. “Just yankin’ your chain, Twi. The old librarian just had to move to Manehattan, be with family. Nothin’ serious.” Applejack leaned in close. “But seriously, buck with m’ Sunday Pie, and ain’t nopony gonna find your body. ‘least, not in containers larger than an ice-cream container.”

Twilight looked at Applejack, alarmed, unsure whether to laugh or not, and the farmpony just smiled, and led the way forward.

~~~~~~~

Hoof hit dusty gravel with a definite crunch as the two mares stopped as one, and it was not unlike a decisive guitar strum in how the sound carried through the farmyard. The pear trees swayed gently in the breeze, and two sets of ears perked inside the farmhouse when they heard the distinct disruption of in the atmosphere.

The farmhouse door swung open, and a slender, red unicorn poked his head out, eyes growing wide as he saw the two mares standing in their front yard.

“Who is it?” a familiar, southern voice yelled out from within the farmhouse.

“Sis,” the stallion called back, dragging his eyes away from the pair, “Y’all probably don’t wanna see this.”

“What?” the voice called back. “Don’t be daft, Lil’ Nashi. Now I gotta see!”

“That you, Pearjack?” Applejack yelled.

There was a pause as Nashi blinked and the other voice comprehended that Applejack sounded almost exactly like her.

“...who’s askin’?” Pearjack responded. “Because if y’all are one of Discord’s taxponies, y’all can beat it. We’re up to date.”

“No,” Twilight denied. “We’re not tax ponies! I’m Twilight Sparkle!”

“And I’m Applejack,” the orange farmpony yelled, pointedly placing emphasis on the “Apple”. “Come out here so we can talk face-to-face, we got business with you!”

“APPLEjack?!” Pearjack screeched. Nashi looked behind him, and back at Applejack, worry over his face.

Twilight felt the ground tremble, and a quick look at Applejack revealed that she was feeling it, too.

“Earthquake?” she asked.

“No,” Nashi said, stepping out of the door way and off to the side of the porch, overhearing Twilight. “My big sister.”

The shaking intensified, and Applejack’s confidence dropped a few notches. “How big, exactly?”

“The biggest,” Nashi said, shrugging.

The door flew open, and Twilight’s jaw dropped when she saw the golden-yellow earth pony standing in the doorway.

“Sweet Celestia,” Twilight exclaimed, not quite believing her eyes.

Big Macintosh was widely regarded in Ponyville to be one of the biggest ponies around; Snowflake was a close second, but being a pegasus, he simply couldn’t hope to match the earth pony for sheer mass.

This golden-yellow pony looked like she could easily match and outclass Big Mac, with a body that looked to be made of ludicrously developed muscle. And the hat perched on her head and familiar mane-style that ended in a tidy, green scrunchie...

“Pearjack,” Applejack acknowledged.

“What is this sorry... thing sitting in our yard?” Pearjack said, voice still loud - it was apparent that she hadn’t been shouting from inside the farmhouse. “Because it smells like...” Pearjack sniffed the air, and snorted. “Apples. We got us a damn, dirty apple farmer.”

“Ah could say the same of you,” Applejack countered. “But Ah’m gonna leave off beatin’ on y’all for bein a filthy pear farmer, on account of us havin’ business.”

“We’re not from this world,” Twilight quickly interjected. “We’re on our way out, actually, just a bit of an accident. We’re from a parallel Equestria. But what we need to get home lies in the Everfree Forest, and we need a permit for that.”

“A permit which y’all have got,” Applejack said, pointing a hoof at Pearjack. “A permit which we’d like to take, if y’all don’t mind.”

“What if I’m not done with it yet?” Pearjack said, walking forward to stand in front of Applejack, forcing the smaller mare to look up at her alternate counterpart.

“Ah said, Ah’ll be takin’ it,” Applejack said, jabbing Pearjack in the chest with a hoof. Twilight winced with the motion, as did Nashi, back on the porch.

“What was that?” Pearjack said, quietly. “Did y’all just touch me, apple farmer?”

“Maybe Ah did,” Applejack said, repeating the action. “Whoops. Got my hoof dirty, touched a pear farmer.”

“Applejack...” Twilight muttered.

“You,” Pearjack said, drawing herself up to her full height. “You wanna do this? Look at you, y’all are tiny. Applejack? More like Appletini. Do you even lift?”

Applejack stiffened. “Say that again.”

Pearjack leaned in, until her snout was almost touching Applejack’s. “Apple. Teeny.”

“Twi?” Applejack said, not taking her eyes off Pearjack.

“Uh... yes, Applejack?” Twilight asked.

“Hold my hat.”

Twilight used her magic to levitate the hat off Applejack’s head swiftly, snatching it off with a telekinetic grip and holding it by her side.

“Nashi!” Pearjack called out.

“Yes, big sis?” the red unicorn asked.

“Git the scoopin’ shovel,” Pearjack said, adjusting her hat. “Th’ one for when Winona’s got the runs. This won’t take long.”

Pearjack was swift; like golden lightning, her hoof lashed out, crashing into Applejack. Applejack was just as fast, and brought her own hooves up to block the strike.

With a crack like thunder, Applejack flew backwards like a cannonball, dust and dirt kicking up in a rooster-tail of destruction, marking the progress of a shallow furrow in the ground, that ran all the way up to a pear tree that shook violently as something slammed into it.

Out from a rain of pears, and before the dust even cleared, Applejack pounced, briefly eclipsing the moon-sun as she launched a flying kick at Pearjack’s face.

The larger pony stumbled just one step as Applejack bounced off, and looked at the smaller mare, surprised.

“Ain’t many ponies can keep walkin’ after that’n,” she admitted, rubbing her jaw. “Much less kick back.”

“Most ponies ain’t me,” Applejack grinned.

Pearjack spun, and rather than lash out with a head-height buck like Applejack expected, instead dropped down low, her hind legs extended, to smash into the side of Applejack’s forehooves. The orange pony did an impromptu barrel roll, and landed on the ground face-down, tasting dirt.

With a scrape of hooves, Pearjack straightened up, and reared back to slam her hooves downward with lightning speed and relentless strength. The impact drove a crater in the ground as Applejack rolled and the attack missed, while the smaller pony went into a cartwheel, her hind hooves neatly clipping Pearjack in the jaw before she righted herself, once more on all fours.

“You ain’t got what it takes,” Applejack taunted. “Ain’t got the speed.”

“Y’all want speed?” Pearjack spat on the ground. “Ah’ll give you speed.”

Pearjack moved swifter still, and rearing up, began to jab at Applejack with her forehooves, sledgehammer hits flying like rain. Applejack wasn’t deterred, blocking and parrying with equal speed, face contorted in concentration as she began to return some shots of her own. The snap and crack of hooves making contact was a steady percussion, two strong earth ponies doing their best to put each other in the hospital.

“By Celestia,” Twilight muttered as Nashi walked over to stand next to her, holding the requested shovel and bucket. “They’re going to kill each other.”

“Ah dunno,” Nashi said, quietly. “Usually, if anypony steps to PJ, they wind up like that,” Nashi said, pointing at the crater on the ground. “If she survived this long... who knows?”

The two farmponies battled on, until Pearjack broke the rhythm by smashing Applejack’s hooves aside, and winding back her own. Applejack, caught by surprise, staggered as she tried to regain her standing, and realized that she’d left herself open for the hoof coming straight at her head.

She darted forward. Her scalp burned as a hoof screeched past, grazing the top of her head as she ducked under the blow, and slammed forward.

Pearjack’s eyes went wide as her attack went wide, and went even wider when she felt pressure on her gut, pushing up. She would have fallen over, if she wasn’t being lifted clear off the ground.

Beneath her, Applejack was puffing and sweating as she lifted the larger pony, eyes wide as veins bulged in her neck and shaking legs with the effort of holding a pony more than twice as heavy as she was over her head.

“Do Ah lift?” she spluttered. “Sugarcube, Ah lift.”

With a swinging motion, Applejack slammed the larger pony down onto the ground at speed, with an earthshakingly strong impact. The larger pony bounced just once, before landing on the ground again and sliding away. Applejack blew air out her mouth, sweat running off her as she strode after the large lump lying still on the ground, facing away from her.

As she got close and stood behind Pearjack, she poked the prone mare with a hoof. The mare began to laugh.

“Ah like you,” Pearjack said, not moving. “Y’all might be a dirty apple farmer, but y’all are alright in my book.”

Applejack extended a hoof, and Pearjack reached over and took it. With a grunt of effort, the two managed to get Pearjack back on her hooves, after which they dusted themselves off.

“Ah suppose I can forgive y’all your sins of farmin’ pears then,” Applejack said. “At least y’all haven’t gone soft.”

“Please,” Pearjack said. “Y’all might have got me this time, but y’all are the soft one. Look at cha. Apples done stunted y’ growth.”

“Ah’m the middle sister in mah family,” Applejack  countered. “Big Mac’s bigger.”

Pearjack laughed. “Whew, if he’s half as strong as you are... well. Are we parallel universe ponies or somethin’?”

“Ah reckon so,” Applejack admitted.

“Pity,” Pearjack said. “This big mac might be an apple farmer, but if we weren’t technic’ly related, ah’d have a go at him. Like my stallions big and strong, not many o’ those ‘round here.”

Applejack blinked slowly, and shook her head in amazement. “Ah like ‘em smaller, myself.”

“Like Lil Nashi...?” Pearjack said, grinning.

“What?!” Applejack spluttered, blushing. “That is - y’all wanna do this again? We’ll go, right now!”

“Relax,” Pearjack said, taking her hat off, and flipping it over. “Ah was kidding. Here.”

The large pony held out a hoof, with a small card balanced on it, that simply had a picture of trees, and the word “Permit” stamped across it.

“The permit?” Applejack asked.

“The permit,” Pearjack said. “Now, y’all run along before Ah get a reputation as an apple-lover.”

“Sure,” Applejack said, nodding, and waving at Twilight. “Twi? Let’s get to it.”

~~~~~~~

“Yup, this is the permit,” Rainbow Dash said, turning the card over in her hooves as she reclined on her cloud. “Very permit-y.”

Twilight and Applejack had returned to the checkpoint, where Rainbow Dash was still lounging. Only this time, they had The Permit.

“So can we go through?” Twilight asked.

“Well, I dunno,” Rainbow Dash said, lazily. “The wind here is awful, blows permits right out of my hooves at times, and my memory is so poor, I forget that I was even holding things sometimes. An autograph from a star athlete might help me hold onto it better and improve my memory...”

“You’re seriously still trying that?” Twilight exclaimed. “You, Rainbow Dash, are trying to extort me, over an autograph?”

“Oh no,” Rainbow Dash said, holding her hoof out. “I think I feel a wind coming on, it might just blow the permit through the storm!”

“Fine! Fine!” Twilight used her magic, and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s saddlebags, which were resting not far away. Ignoring Rainbow Dash’s protestations regarding privacy, Twilight pushed past a PlayMare magazine (some things never changed) and pulled out a pencil and notepad. With a flourish, Twilight scratched out her mark, and pushed the notebook into Rainbow Dash’s hooves.

Rainbow Dash looked at it, and squealed. “Heee heeee, yes! I got one!”

“Now can you let us through?” Applejack asked, tapping a hoof irritably. “Because Ah’m gettin’ mighty ticked off, here.”

“What?” Rainbow Dash blinked. “Oh yeah. The storm. Yeah, go ahead.”

Rainbow Dash tapped a hoof on her cloud, and with a wet fizzle, the storm over the road winked out suddenly, leaving a strange gap in the rain to either side of the road.

Twilight sighed. “Finally. Let’s get going before something else weird happens.”

The two mares nodded, and as one, stepped into the Everfree Forest.