Cherry Bomb CH1: Blessed are the Cherrymakers

It was a dark and stormy night in Ponyville.

Well… actually, it was a fairly light storm. It was barely raining. In fact, there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. It was rather sunny out. Okay, I guess it was daytime.

But deep in the darkest of kitchens, a master was at work. They say that a true artist suffers for their work, and that whatever comes out of such a long, laborious process is the glorious result of blood, sweat, and tears. Never has that been more true than in this very kitchen, for now, this artist is about to produce her greatest masterpiece.

This is her finest hour.

“Need more eggs in this mix, STAT!”

The kitchen was her laboratory, and the utensils her equipment. The equipment to create a new entity, a monster. Nay… a new state of mind.

“Roger that, Sargent Pinkie! More eggs on the double!”

The imagination can be a dangerous thing.

Not even Celestia knows what goes on in a pony’s mind from time to time. Many brilliant ideas have been spawned from the mind. But so have countless horrible ideas. Things so horrific, that they should’ve never been allowed to leave the brain.

Who can say what tomorrow will bring? What sorts of new ideas will emerge? The impact that they’ll have on a society? The consequences that ponies will face, for better or for worse?

It’s all an enigma. Much like the great Pinkamena Diane Pie herself.

“We need more sugar! MORE SUGAR!”

Any passing pony would look at this mare and call her crazy, unusual, nonsensical. In fact, many in Ponyville do use those terms to describe Pinkie Pie. Even some of her closest friends. They do not see her for what she truly is.

A visionary. An independent thinker. A pony who dares to look at the world, at everything that we’ve created and all the advances we’ve made, shrug, and say, “Ehh, could be better.”

This is her tale.

“And now for the ultimate ingredient… the end-all be-all of my creation… the reason I am here…” she mused to nopony in particular. Not that anypony could fathom the workings of a Pinkie Pie mind. “History is about to be made, ladies and gentlecolts. Feast your eyes upon the savory, scrumptious, most delicious—”

“PINKIE!”

A figure emerged from behind, daring to shatter the great Pinkie Pie’s concentration, and throw all of her creative planning into turmoil.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Hey, Twilight,” said Pinkie in her usual cheery tone. “What brings you to the neighborhood?”

Her good friend Twilight Sparkle just blinked several times in response.

“Well… first of all, this is my kitchen,” she finally replied. “And secondly, why are you kneading dough in the dark?”

She flipped on a light, casting the dark workspace in a warm blanket of light. Pinkie Pie was instantly blinded; all she could do was shield her eyes and hiss at the unwelcome illumination bestowed upon her sanctum.

“What are you making anyway?” Twilight asked, as she walked over to get a better look at her friend’s creation.

“I’m glad you asked!” said Pinkie, bringing Twilight into her world by her neck. “Looks like you get to be the first to know, Twilight! The first to know that I am at the brink of creating the greatest Mexicolt-inspired culinary splendor this side of Equestria since the legendary chocolate churro! Because today, I am finally creating, the world’s first… CHIMICHERRYCHANGA!”

“Chimi… cherry… whatta?” Twilight uttered out, struggling to grasp such a unique concept… and struggling to breathe.

“Don’t you remember, Twilight?”

To demonstrate, Pinkie… somehow pulled down a projection screen over the fourth wall, which began visually recapping her ramblings at Cherry Jubilee’s ranch.

---

“It was all I could think about when we followed Applejack all the way to Dodge Junction last month, and you told me all I had to do was go and talk to her about something random!”

“A cherrychanga is mashed up cherries in a tortilla that's deep fried. Cherrychanga! Great name, huh? Oh! But maybe I should call it a chimicherry. Ooh, that's good too! Which do you think sounds better? Cherrychanga or chimicherry? Or what if I combine them? Chimicherrychanga! What sounds the funniest?”

“Rarity and I were both so excited about my idea that we kept talking about it the whole ride home, and Rarity had a lot to say about it!”

“What do you think, Rarity? Chimicherry or cherrychanga? Chimicherry, cherrychanga? Chimicherry, cherrychanga? Chimicherry, cherrychanga? Chimicherry, cherrychanga?”

“When I get back, you're gonna get it, Rainbow Dash!”

---

She pulled the screen back up, revealing that she and Twilight were now both wearing sombreros and false mustaches.

“Wait, what th—”

“So now that I’ve finally settled upon the name after two long months of hard thinking, I shall not eat, I shall not sleep, and I shall not even blink until the chimicherrychanga is a reality!” Pinkie proclaimed. “Although… I guess I do have to eat some of this stuff in order to taste-test it. Plus, I have to sleep if I’m going to keep my concentration. And my eyes hurt whenever I forget to blink, so… I guess I will eat, sleep, and blink for a while!”

“Right…” said Twilight, removing her sombrero and mustache like the shameful artifacts they were. “But that… still doesn’t explain why you’re making it in my kitchen.”

Pinkie scoffed at such a commoner remark.

“Well, duhhh, Twilight! Haven’t you ever heard the expression, ‘working outside of the box’?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s thinking outside the—”

“Sometimes our best ideas come to us in the most unfamiliar of environments! My kitchen just doesn’t have that same creative punch that yours does!”

And then, she pulled a bag out of Twilight’s cupboard… but not just any bag. The ultimate ingredient that she had been looking for.

“Besides, you’ve got silvered almonds, just what I needed!” She opened up the bag and munched on a few. “So, do you get it now?”

Twilight looked all around, trying to construct a definite conclusion. “Well… I, uh… um… I…” Finally, she gazed down to the floor, ears drooped. “No. No, not really.”

Pinkie sighed. “Twilight, you seriously need to get out more, and get a better perspective on life. Try painting something. Wait… Yes, that’s it, Twilight! Go outside and paint your DREAMS!”

Twilight had such an incredulous look at this point that it wasn’t even funny.

“I can’t, I have a lot of work to do today. I still want to finish writing my thesis on teleportation magic, and I was going to start reading my book on phosphorescent mushrooms, plus I still need to re-organize my weekly planner to account for the picnic we’re having next—”

“Great, so I guess you’re not busy!” The next thing Twilight knew, a long list was cast onto her. “Do you mind heading to the market and getting some ingredients for me?”

“What? Me? But- but- why can’t you just get Spike to do this?”

“Oh, that’s right. He told me to tell you something about helping Rarity with her dressmaking… again.”

---

“Ohhh! This is simply the worst thing that could ever happen! No jades! Or topaz! Or even ONE baby blue sapphire!”

Rarity’s house was a mess. And not even the “organized chaos” kind of mess that she usually defends. It was just a fashion disaster, from the floor to the ceiling. Garments and gemstones were being tossed all over the place, as an extremely stressed Rarity tore the place apart looking for the sacred stones she so desperately desired. Also, alliteration is awesome.

“Aww, come on, Rarity. It’s not the end of the worl--”

“IT IS THE END OF THE WORLD, SPIKE!” As for Spike himself, he was just frantically trying to pick up the tossed items and rearrange them to Rarity’s presumed liking, trying to appease his crush like always. “Without the proper jewels, I’ll never get Tasha Trinkets’ dress done in time for the magazine photo-op!”

“Yeah, but, I thought she said she could reschedule it in a snap if you weren’t able to--”

“Time is of the essence!” Rarity rebutted. “And yet here I am, jewel-less, inspiration-less even! How could a pony like me be cursed with such desolation!?”

Having reached the point of no hope, Rarity flew herself to the floor and… starting rolling over on the carpet like a dog.

“Ohh, woe is me woe is me woe is me woe is me WOE IS MEEE-HE-HEEEE!”

Spike bit his lip watching the bizarre sight. As this was happening, Sweetie Belle trotted down the stairs to see what was going on. Her facial expression seemed to imply that seeing her older sister rolling on the ground was not an unusual sight. She and Spike exchanged blank gestures at each other before she circled back upstairs.

The things I do for love… Spike thought to himself.

But just then, Rarity sat up with a sudden look of determination, startling Spike.

“There’s only thing to do in order to remedy this situation! I shall not eat, rest, or even BATHE until we have everything necessary to complete that dress! SPIKE!”

A shovel was tossed in Spike’s general direction. Rarity walked over to him in a dramatic fashion and said in a rich, gravelly voice…

“WE NEED TO DIG.”

---

“But I… ugh, fine.” Twilight began looking over the list that Pinkie had just handed to her… as she spotted Pinkie leaving the kitchen. “Umm… where are you going?”

“Ohh, I have everything I need here, so I think I’m just going to go work in my own kitchen. Because after all, I should never use somepony else’s kitchen without asking first! That’d just be silly! Well, see ya later, Twilight! Don’t forget to bring those back to Sugarcube Corner when you’re done!”

And just like that, the great Pinkie Pie had left the scene. The source of inspiration was calling elsewhere, but her friend Twilight Sparkle was now left with a kitchen toiled in genius artistry… and a hefty quest ahead of her.

“But I—then, why’d you…” She just shook her head and scolded herself within her own mind. Forget it, Twilight. Just Pinkie being Pinkie…

If only it were that simple.

---

It was a calm and peaceful day at the Ponyville Marketplace. So peaceful, that the usual tense atmosphere of competition and commerce was practically non-existent today, and the shopkeepers were actually rather at ease for once. Even Crafty Pete, known for being the burliest and often sleaziest of shopkeepers, was in a whistling mood today. Not really sure what song he’s whistling though. It almost sounds like a sailing shanty… or something like that.

“Hey there, Twilight! What’s shakin’, bacon?” A sign advertising Crafty’s cherries as 2 bits a pop stood next to him, as Twilight Sparkle approached his stand.

“Hello, Crafty Pete. How’s business?”

“Pretty busy, and pretty good.” Pete raised an eyebrow at the exceedingly large potato bag Twilight fished from her saddlebag. “Needin’ some more cherries, are we?”

“Uhhh, yes. Quite a… quite a lot, actually.” Twilight took another look at Pinkie’s list and clenched her teeth with a huge breath. “Ummm… 57, to be specific.”

“F-f… FIFTY-SEVEN CHERRIES!?” Crafty Pete was so shell-shocked that his bow-tie spun around and his blue cap flew clean off of his head. ... Oh yeah, and then it landed back on his head. Sorry for the suspense there.

Twilight glanced harder at the list, and noticed something. “Oh wait, no, there was a smudge. It’s actually eighty-seven.”

Crafty Pete’s jaw dropped.

“That’s… that’s almost my whole inventory! What the hay could you possibly need all those cherries for!?”

“Oh, not for me,” Twilight replied, her voice shaking a little. “For my friend, Pinkie Pie. It’s this big baking project she’s doing, she calls it a cherry-chonkey or… something. She’s going to revolutionize the whole industry, or so she says,” she explained.

“…Is she now?” A smug was beginning to form, as he raised the other eyebrow. “Well… for a venture like that, that’s going to be… 180 bits!”

Twilight did a double-take. “180? But that’s not right. 87 times 2 actually equals one-hundred and seventy fou—”

“180 bits! Take it or leave it, missy!”

“Fine, fine. Here.” She levitated a bag of bits from inside her saddlebag onto the counter, and emptied almost three barrels’ worth of cherries into her saddlebag. “Thanks, Crafty.”

“Yeah… no problem…”

“I guess it’s a good thing Princess Celestia pays me so much to… to…” As Twilight walked away, the realization dawned on her. “Huh. What is she paying for, anyway?”

Once she was gone, Crafty Pete squinted ahead, DRAMATICALLY. From out of nowhere, he pulled out a phone… and by a phone, I mean a can connected to a string, and whispered into it.

“Crate Master to C.T. Crate Master to C.T. We have a problem…”

---

Well, that’s an interesting new development. But we’ll get back to that later, for there are other important things happening. ‘Twas but a glorious day all around Ponyville. A glorious day to seize! New ventures were awaiting, new windows of opportunity shining through the air. It was a day to be at your most productive, to work towards your greatest of goals, to strive for the skies…

Or in Rainbow Dash’s case, it was the perfect day to sleep on an open branch, inside a tree overlooking the town square from the distance. She was napping peacefully, her mind surely abuzz with dreams of flying with her heroes, the Wonderbolts.

“N-no, Spitfire… Not the whirlwind blaze… You can’t—you can’t do the whirlwind blaze on an open dessert channel…”

Something along those lines.

But whatever she was dreaming about, those dreams were quickly shattered by the impact of an acorn on her face.

“Zzz! Oww! What the…” With a frustrated grunt, she flicked the acorn off and rolled to her other side. “Dumb squirrels…”

She tried to return to her slumber, and had almost completely dozed off again, when…

“HEY, RAINBOW DASH!”

“WHOOAAA!”

With a great thud, Rainbow fell to the ground below, startled by the sudden appearance of Pinkie’s head bursting from the leaves.

“Ugh… Pinkie Pie! I told you to never do that again!”

“Hee-hee, sorry Rainbow! I just had some really exciting news to share with you!”

“Exciting, huh?” Rainbow struggled to get back up, as Pinkie Pie slid down the trunk of the tree on all fours like some cartoon character.

“Thaaaat’s right, Dashy! Get ready when you hear this, ‘cause this is gonna knock your socks off!” She took a deep breath and then let it all out right in Rainbow’s face. “Your friend Pinkie Pie is about to pop the cherry!”

“Yeah, okay, that’s--” Then it her. Like a brick. “Wait, WHAAAAAT!?”

“Yup!” Pinkie reaffirmed, jumping for joy. “I told you it was gonna be exciting! This is something I’ve never done before, but I’ve always wanted to try it! It’s like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this!”

Rainbow was rendered nearly speechless at her awkward phrasing. “But-but… you can’t…”

“It’s going to be an exhilarating experience, and I just can’t wait to go down on it at the end!” Oh, lordy.

“Who’s-- who are you… doing this… with?” she asked, struggling to get the words out. Sweat was beginning to trickle down her forehead.

“Oh! Twilight’s helping me!”

“TWILIGHT!?”

“Uh-huh!” Pinkie replied, nodding in pure childlike innocence. “Why, did you want in on this too, Rainbow?”

Rainbow’s eyes went wide.

“Me!?”

“Sure, there’s enough room for the three of us… I think!”

“I… I…”Rainbow’s hooves trembled greatly as her eyes darted in all directions, and her eyes pressed shut as her thoughts began battling themselves.

“Mmm, guess you’re too busy. Oh, well. See you later, Rainbow Dash!”

With that, Pinkie Pie hopped away back to her den of creation, blissfully unaware of the psychological destruction she had just wreaked on her friend.

“Pinkie! Wait! NO!” Next thing she knew, Rainbow Dash was flying after her.  “I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR FIRST!”

---

“Status report.”

“They’re all gathered, ma’am.”

“Good. Let’s get ready to do some dirty work.”

About two dozen ponies were gathered in what seemed like some sort of underground bunker. This strange congregation of ponies were connected by little else but their common trait of cherry-themed Cutie Marks, as well hats and other items of clothing celebrating the apparent glory of cherries. It was like a convention of cherry-loving nerds.

Heck, there was literally a fountain of cherry whiskey right in the middle of the room. A FOUNTAIN!

“I live for this,” Berryshine remarked before dunking her entire head into the fountain.

The walls were a dark maroon color, as if somepony had smeared cherries all over the wall. In fact, seeing how eccentric this crowd is about cherries, they probably did. It was a rather low ceiling too, to the point that the taller stallions in the room had to crouch slightly. Posters of bizarre cherry propaganda were lined all over the room. One of them depicted a explosion of red mist with the words “Cherry (is the) Bomb”, and another showed two smiling cherries on a stem, reading “ALL NON-BELIEVERS WILL BE JUICED!”

A dark purple mare with a brown mane of vibrant curls stepped up to the microphone to address the calamitous crowd and cleared her throat.

“Order in the boardroom! Order in the boardroom! I said… ORRRRDEEERRRRR!”

All the ponies in the room immediately went silent. Crickets sounded, even though there weren’t any crickets in the room.

“The National Equestrian Society of Cherry Pioneers is now in session. Presenting our honorable leader, C.T.!”

They all clapped as their leader stepped into frame.

A dark robe with a cherry insignia was draped over C.T., shrouding almost the pony’s entire appearance. The only two things visible underneath it were a smiling cherries Cutie Mark and a swirly red tail. A beige muzzle peeked out from underneath the hood, sporting a red mustache.

But despite the deceptively trendy facial hair, C.T.’s voice indicated her gender as female.

“Thank you, Cherry Fizzy,” she said, addressing her assistant. “My fellow Cherryteers! I’ve just had some very concerning news relayed to me by our trusty Ponyville vendor, Trusty Pete!”

“Crafty Pete!” he corrected.

“Crafty Pete, whatever. This is what he had to say!”

C.T. gestured to Cherry Fizzy, who immediately set up a slide projector that broadcast on the wall behind C.T. The slide shown was an image of Pinkie Pie, sticking her tongue out while wearing a Groucho Trotz mask.

“We all know this colorful face. Our own Pinkie Pie, Ponyville’s resident clown, crack-up, and pastry cooker of deliciousness!” C.T. dramatically lowered her voice. “But today tells a much grimmer tale. For she has turned to the dark side. OUR dark side! That’s right, Pinkamena Diane Pie is… creating her own cherry-themed instrument of danger!”

All the ‘Cherryteers’ gasped.

C.T. continued, whilst stroking her mustache. “Crafty Pete even claims that his source, whom we can’t name for reasons of security but let’s just call her, uhh… ‘Sunset Shimmer’, described Pinkie’s “cherry bomb” as something that will REVOLUTIONIZE THE ENTIRE INDUSTRY!”

This was enough to send the entire group into hysterics.

“What will happen to our businesses!?” Cherry Jubilee panicked.

“Is she going to run us all flat?” asked Sprocket Seed.

“Are my broiling hot Cherry Kabobs going to be rendered obsolete by this despicable pink menace?” Budd Sprouts violently took a bite out of his spicy stick.

“Calm down, calm down, my friends! Remember the tranquility of the stem.” Whatever the hay this analogy was, it seemed to calm down the entire fraternity very quickly. “We have no additional information on the nature of this product, or its projected impact on the cherry industry. But we here at the National Equestrian Society of Cherry Pioneers don’t accept risks anymore. Not after what happened to poor Cherry Bob Jenkins.”

“I’m still here, ya know!” an elderly voice shouted from the back.

“Bless that brave stallion’s heart,” said C.T. solemnly, putting a hand to her chest. “I shall be going out to town to perform some reconnaissance, and then, once I’ve ascertained the threat, I will give you all further instructions. But first, we must be prepared, fruitheads. We may be headed into WAR.”

“I LIKE WAR!” Cherry Berry piped from within the crowd.

“Gooood. Then it’s settled. But first…” Her assistant Cherry Fizzy produced a plate of yummy-looking steaming pink treats with cherry bits in them. “Who wants cherry dumplings?”

All of the ‘Cherryteers’ instantly raised their hooves with chants of “Ooh! Ooh!” and “I do!” C.T. smiled wickedly. Certainly, she loved the taste of affection and the supreme feeling of power over others in the morning.

One sole voice ruined the moment.

“Ummm, excuse me, Miss T. Can I go back to the bathroom?”

C.T. groaned. “Go ahead, Black Stone.”

“Thank you, ma’am,”  he said and promptly left. C.T. lifted her hood up slightly, just to glare at him with her golden eyes.

“That pony needs to drink less water…” she mused. “…AND MORE CHERRY WINE! All in favor?”

“AYE!” they all chanted back.

“AYYYYYE!” yelled Berryshine.

But as the cherry pioneers gathered around their leader, they didn’t seem to realize that something sinister was in their midst. One of their own members was actually hiding a dark secret.

For rather than head into the bathroom and do his business, Black Stone was leaning against the wall with a serious look on his face. He pulled up a mysterious wristwatch communicator and pressed a button on it to open up a satellite channel.

“Hello? This is Agent Stone. Patch me through to the agency.”

After a few seconds, a gruff male voice responded. “Go ahead.”

“This is Reconnaissance Agent Stone, sir. You might want to hear about this.”

---

Apples are love. Apples are life.

At least, those are the six words that she lives by day by day. Ponies come from far and wide to sample her family’s famous apples, and Applejack knew that today was going to a very bright day at her apple stand. After all, the sun was shining, the marketplace was exceptionally busy, and best of all, her most vicious competitor, Carrot Top, had failed to show up to her own carrot stand, bringing her usual snark with her. Thus, the market street seemed much quieter than usual.

Yes, today was going to be a glorious day, Applejack believed. What could possibly go wrong?

“Howdy, Twilight!”

“Huh? Oh. Hey, Applejack.”

Twilight barely looked up from her exceedingly long grocery list to acknowledge her friend. She wasn’t even slowing down for some apples, just… walking on by. Applejack looked on after her, and scratched her head.

“Uhhh… Twilight?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“You uh, you’re out grocery shopping today, right?”

“Sort of,” Twilight responded, turning around. “I’m just getting a few things for Pinkie.”

“Oh! Well, that’s mighty kind o’ ya!”

“I suppose. I just hope I can get this all done quickly so I can go back home and catch up on my reading. Not that I don’t like helping out a friend, but… well, you know how Pinkie is,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah, ah hear ya. Ah suppose she wants some apples, right?”

Applejack propped up a whole basket of apples for Twilight to select from. Twilight thoroughly scanned the list for apples.

“No, it looks she doesn’t need any apples.”

THAT’S when Applejack’s entire world stopped. Her pupils shrunk, her left shoulder twitched up, and her entire perception went wonky. It was as if her brain had just snapped.

“Doesn’t… doesn’t need any apples!?” she stammered. Her left eye began twitching rapidly. “We… well, why ever not?”

“She’s going on about something to do with cherries, this big thing she’s making. What was it called? A… cherry chimichanga? Chimi-cherry-changa?”

Applejack’s teeth clenched. Just that combination of words alone triggered a horrible memory in her noggin, as Pinkie Pie’s words started echoing clear as day.

“Cherrychanga or chimicherry? Or what if I combine them? Chimicherrychanga! Say it with me! Pickle barrel kumquat, pickle barrel kumquat, pickle barrel kumquat, chimicherrychanga!”

“NOOOO! MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP!”

“Huh?” said Twilight, tilting her head.

“Uhh… nothin’. Nothin’.” Applejack chuckled lightly. “Have, uh… have fun with your shoppin’ there, Twilight.”

“Riiight. Thanks, AJ.”

Though looking rather concerned for her friend, Twilight trekked on to continue fulfilling Pinkie’s demands. AJ smiled politely as she left, but then crouched underneath her stand and started breathing heavily when Twilight was gone.

“Doesn’t need any apples…” she repeated to herself. “Why, ah remember promisin’ her that we’d be more than happy to donate some apples for her to tinker with! But noooo! Instead, she decides to pursue that, thar… thing! Talk about loyalty to your friends!” she stated angrily.

As she stood back up, it was pretty obvious that Applejack had completely cracked. She was starting to get that crazy look in her eye…

“And maybe somepony oughta do something about this…” she giggled. “After all, she’s gotta buy some apples! Everypony needs to BUY SOME APPLES!”

Be afraid, Pinkie Pie. Be very, very afraid.

---

“Our own Pinkie Pie, Ponyville’s resident clown, crack-up…”

Speaking of Pinkie Pie and being afraid…

“Fast-forward.”

“…right, Pinkamena Diane Pie is… creating her own cherry-themed instrument of danger!”

“Fast-forward.”

“Sunset Shimmer, described Pinkie’s ‘cherry bomb’ as something that will REVOLUTIONIZE THE ENTIRE INDUSTRY!”

It’s not easy being the chief of a government spy agency. In fact, it might damn well be one of the most stressful jobs in the world. Having to organize covert operations, dealing with dangerous criminals, trying to cover up as much scary business from the public eye as possible, agents going rogue…

It’s surprising how often that happens, actually.

But most of all, most other ponies don’t have to face this great terror. The pink pony with a plan, an air of mystery, and a lingering scent of disaster waiting to be released from its bottle. The kind of terror that leaves one sleepless at night, worried and paranoid. And having to deal with the laughter of his colleagues and wife, because dude: you’re scared of a freaking pink party pony.

“The pink one!” he uttered in a dramatic tone, shutting off the tape recorder. He levitated his cup of coffee up and took a sip. “For too long, she has eluded our grasps. Agent 22419-7B-Delta! Come.”

A well-dressed and devilishly handsome stallion entered the Chief’s office, his brown mane combed to a perfectly suave style, and his smile giving off a sense of confidence and yet maybe even a little cockiness. He was the top agent of the organization, though, so it’s not like he didn’t have a lot to be cocky about. However, the smile dropped as he came in.

“I do have a name, Chief,” he said deadpan.

“Right! I knew that! ... What is it again?”

He sighed. “Rudolfo Ramirez, sir. I’m the only Mexicoltan agent in this entire organization, and your brother-in-law. How do you never remember my name?”

“Well, I hate my sister. But that’s not important right now, or ever. I have a job for you.” Chief O’Hara tossed some black-and-white photographs of the terrorist Rudolfo’s way. “You know Pinkamena. The menace stationed in Ponyville.”

Rudolfo gazed at the photographs, but shook his head and lowered his sunglasses. Evidently, this wasn’t the first time she had been brought to his attention.

“I still don’t fully understand what’s so dangerous about her, sir.”

“Are you kidding me, Agent!?” O’Hara bellowed. “Look at this picture! The face of EVIL!” he flashed a picture of her right in his face.

“She… has a nice smile,” Rudolfo admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

“There is much wickedness hiding behind that smile, Agent! I’ve been watching her for months now, knowing that she’s up to something! And it seems now she’s finally revealed herself to us.”

O’Hara got up and stared out of his window blinds, thinking himself some sort of stereotypical noir film character, I guess. “Agent Stone has infiltrated a group of eccentric cherry farmers, and they’ve revealed something terrible. She’s creating a powerful new weapon, one of potential mass destruction. A CHERRY BOMB.”

Agent Rudolfo, finally realizing the seriousness of this situation, dropped the sarcastic act and looked again at the photographs. He was now looking at them with the same fear building up as in Chief O’Hara.

“What would you have me do, sir? I’ll do whatever it takes to upkeep the balance in Equestria, and stamp out the evil. The evil that lies within all of us, waiting to …”

“Tch. Still quite the one for cheesy prose, are we, Rudolfo?” Chief O’Hara hunched over his desk. “The pink one must be stopped before she harms innocent civilians with her technology. Agent Pixley!”

“Rudolfo!”

“WHATEVER! I’m sending you down to Ponyville!” He slammed his hoof down on the table. “Collect whatever intel you can on the pink one, so we can take her down! Nopony shall deploy for battle with a ‘cherry bomb’ on my watch! THIS. ENDS. TONIGHT.”

---

“Troops deploy for battle! Cherry bombs ready!”

The members of the National Equestrian Society of Cherry Pioneers now had their WAR FACES READY! Army hats! Red and yellow-colored military uniforms! Magazines of cherry seeds! That… weird paint that soldiers always put on their cheeks for some reason!

Stored in their saddlebags were their ultimate secret weapons, however.  They looked like oversized cherries with overly long stems. However, the stems were fitted with flammable ends on them, and strange gray pods were stuffed inside the cherries.

“What are we fighting for, ladies and gentlecolts?” C.T. asked.

“CHERRIES!” they responded.

She put her hoof down on the wooden floor.  “What is our domain?”

“CHERRIES!”

“What is the greatest fruit alive?”

“ORANGES!”

“Wait, what?”

“Uhh, we mean… CHERRIES!”

“Exactly!”

The Cherryteers whooped and cheered as they prepared to head out into battle. C.T. again raised her hood slightly, this time to fit military goggles over her eyes.

“I’m comin’ for ya, Pie.”

A wicked smile crept up her lips as she started laughing evilly…

“A-ha-ha… A-HA-HA-HA! A-HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA!”

…and then stopped to scratch her mustache.

---

“Come on, Apple Bloom! Help me out here!”

Applejack was back on her farm, stuffing a multitude of apples into a series of duffel bags. Why duffel bags? Who knows.

Her little sister Apple Bloom was handing off apples to her in baskets to toss in, despite her concern for her sister’s intentions… as well as her sanity.

“Umm, sis? Ah don’t get it. Ah thought Pinkie Pie was our friend.”

“That’s what I thought too, little sis,” Applejack bemoaned. “Until she betrayed the Apple Family way!”

“Right… ah still don’t get it,” Apple Bloom replied. “Why are ya taking such offense just because she’s makin’ something to do with cherries?”

“It ain’t about the fruit, Apple Bloom. It’s the principle of it all! If we don’t convince her to stay loyal to our product, then, then… she could start a revolution, and soon all our friends would start swaying away from tradition! What if Twilight wants to eat a peach, or Spike decides that he likes pears all of a sudden? They’ll destroy all of Equestria’s apple business and ruin the foundations of traditional produce!”

Apple Bloom blinked a couple of times.

“…Ya sure ya ain’t blowin’ this just a little out of proportion?”

“There’s a time and a place for every fruit, little sis,” said AJ. “But right now, evil is a-brewin’. Rainbow Dash always stands for loyalty, and so must I.” She proudly put a hoof to he hear, and then continued pushing the apples in.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

---

Something was brewing indeed. Evil? That isn’t certain yet, for the mad scientist was still at work, bringing her terrible monster to life.

An idea that perhaps should’ve never been, but like so many, is causing change in the world already. For blessed are the cherrymakers.

“Oh, boy! I bet everypony is just going to LOVE my chimicherrychangas!”

The clock is ticking, for soon the hour of the cherry will be at hand.