With the clatter of glass jars interrupting the silence of the falling twilight, Stinkin' Rich dropped the last case of jam on the floor of his tent. He stretched the soreness from his aching back, letting out an involuntary sigh in the process. He had spent a good portion of the day carrying these crates from the orchard to his tent, and as the sun finished its descent on the horizon, Rich was able to finally rest his weary hooves and admire his new treasure.

Surrounding him was a count of crates numbering a dozen, each filled to bursting with jars of fresh zap apple jam. By the light of the flickering lantern, the vibrant colors contained within the jars were a magnificent sight to behold. Even the subtlest of hues shone with the purest of clarity, and each danced within its container, producing the most beautiful gradients Rich had ever witnessed. Had Rich not seen the apples turned to jam and poured into the jars with his own eyes, he would've guessed that some pony, somehow, had managed to compress the rainbow itself into a case of glass for the viewing pleasure of any who looked upon it.

But as brilliant as the jam appeared, better still was its stark and unique taste. While he was by no means an expert connoisseur of all things food, Rich was certain that such a flavor had never before existed in the history of Equestria. So sweet, so smooth, so... perfect. It had an exquisite texture that tingled the taste buds and cooled the throat. And although it was a true delight to eat plain from the jar, it also had a very malleable flavor, complimenting nearly everything that Rich cared to try it on or in.

And it was this flavor that Rich was counting on.

The land he saw around him was nearly as wild and unsettled as they come, and the close proximity to the Everfree Forest didn't help to solve that concern. But as much as the hills and the trees made it seem unlikely that anything more than a small homestead would be able to thrive, Rich couldn't help but see a vast untapped potential in that humble group of pioneer ponies that decided to rest their wagons in order to make their homes.

Rich himself, however, was not a farm pony. He could appreciate the value of fertile soil and a bountiful harvest, but he had little interest in sinking his hooves into that work. His pursuits were more akin to the store front, where he could win the minds and hearts of customers with his words and his goods. Long had he dreamed of opening a stall that sold any myriad of products, where his business would attract ponies of all kinds to come together. That, he truly knew, was how the strongest of communities were formed.

The problem was that, in order to have a life of sales, he needed goods to sell. His previous attempts had ended rather sadly and abruptly, when no matter what he sold, competitors were always able to sell the same thing in higher quantities or for cheaper prices. He quickly learned that opening a business in an existing market was difficult indeed. What he needed was something new, something that he could guarantee that no one would ever find anywhere else. What lay on the ground in crates around him, he knew, was precisely that.

As soon as he first saw, as he first tasted that exquisite jam, he gathered all the money he could muster and purchased as many jars as he could afford. Tomorrow, he would scout the surrounding area for a good place to set up his stall. He already had an idea of where to start; just a short ways to the north-west was the road most ponies would take in order to get from Canterlot to either Cloudsdale or Las Pegasus, so along that road somewhere would be the perfect location.

This was his last chance at achieving his dream. After this, he would either be a success or destitute. The jars that glistened in the lantern's glow represented everything of note he owned. Somehow he knew, however, that his worries would soon be over, and his lifelong goal would finally be realized.