The late afternoon sun baked the apple orchard almost as well as a convection oven. Through the haze a lone red stallion could be seen working his way back towards the barn at the edge of the fields, a bushel balanced carefully upon his sweat soaked back. To say that the basket was overladen would have been a mild understatement. Apples of various size, roundness, and sheen threatened to fall from the container.

Usually Big Macintosh was more careful and carried lighter loads. Losing apples to spillage would be embarrassing and earn him a proper chewing out from Granny Smith, probably about youngsters always being in such a hurry, but today was a special day. He had wanted to finish the day's gathering chores early and by overloading each basket he had carried that day, he would now finish a whole hour early. He would have plenty of time before the mailmare came with the afternoon delivery

The final bushel of apples landed on the floor of the cider cellar with a hearty thud. Big Mac surveyed the piles of apples that surrounded him and made sure that he had met the day's harvest requirements. When he was satisfied with the amount, he allowed himself a few moments to enjoy the cooler air of the storage space under the barn before galloping back to the family house.

He briefly considered waiting on the porch, but the mere thought of what was going to arrive made him feel giddy inside. He quickly made his way up to his room, closed the door, and pulled a magazine out from under his bed. He dropped himself gracelessly onto the bed and began to hoof through pages until he came to the ad that had started the long ordeal that would finally culminate with today's delivery.

"Talking Princess Celestia Doll" read the advertisement. Big Mac grinned and couldn't help but chuckle at the idea of finally having a piece of Princess merchandise to call his own, one that could talk, no less. He wondered whether the tinkers had managed to actually replicate the Princess' voice or whether it was going to sound all-

His green eyes widened with shock as he saw the top portion of the ad that had been previously blocked by the mail-in order form that he had torn out and sent out to make the purchase.

"Batteries"

"Not Included-"

His heart sank as he realized that, unless there were some spare batteries lying around the farm, he was going to have to wait even longer before he could truly enjoy his purchase.

He quickly checked under his bed, in his closet, in his (mysteriously present) dressers, but to no avail.

He rushed downstairs, checked in the cupboards, the pantry, the linen closets.

Again, nothing.

He began to sweat more than he had out in the orchard. This couldn't be happening! He had waited so long! And Applejack had said that while she was in town, the mailmare had told her that a package had arrived for him and that it would be delivered on the afternoon mail route.

He rushed to the tool shed.

Nothing.

Then he suddenly remembered, there was a flashlight back in the barn. It would have batteries!

He galloped as fast as he could, and almost bucked the doors right off the barn.

The flashlight was resting where he had last seen it, atop a hay bale. He grabbed the metal tube in his mouth and unscrewed it with an alacrity that would have shamed Rainbow Dash. The batteries fell out and landed on the floor. He heaved a sigh of relief.

Success.

On his way back to the house, batteries in hoof, he saw the form of the mailmare flying away from the farm.

He quickly galloped to the porch and saw the package.

Wasting no time, he hefted the surprisingly heavy parcel and took it to his room. He set the two batteries on his bedside table and then tore the package open, revealing a good deal of packing material. He hoofed through the top of it and stared, confused. He upended the box on the bed, spilling out the contents.

It was a pile of batteries.

Next to the pile, he saw the magazine ad again. His eyes narrowed as he separated the statements line by line.

"Batteries"

"Not Included-"
"Talking Princess Celestia Doll"

And then he saw, in ultra fine print, the Flim-Flam brothers logo.

Even Granny Smith heard the resulting expletive.