Doctor’s offices were always depressing, somehow. Big Mac could feel his life slipping away as he sat on the exam table, legs rocking back and forth for lack of anything better to do. He’d read the informational posters on the wall twice, and learned more about Hoof and Mouth disease in the process than he ever cared to know.

        At least they didn’t have the same skeleton diagrams that’d graced the walls when he was a little colt. Watching that skeleton pony smile down at him had given him a fair share of nightmares, and led to his lifelong vow: no doctors unless it’s an emergency.

        Granny Smith said otherwise.

        The door opened, and Nurse Redheart stepped in. Big Mac put on a smile; a check-up wasn’t so bad when she was performing it.

        She held up a clipboard loaded down with papers. “I have your test results, Big Mac. Would you like me to walk you through them?”

        “Eeyup.” She could’ve asked him to donate a kidney. There wasn’t any arguing with a hard-working mare, as far as he was concerned. Not that she was the prettiest he’d ever seen, of course. That honor was reserved for a certain schoolteacher.

        “Big Mac! Are you paying attention?”

        He finally noticed her stern expression and nodded. “Err, eeyup!”

        She tapped a hoof on the test results. She’d apparently walked him through two pages of it already. “Everything so far as been fine, but… I’m afraid the result of the throat swab is rather serious. If you’d come in sooner we might have been been able to do more, but…” She set the clipboard down. “I’m afraid you’re going mute, Big Mac.”

        He started at her, wide-eyed. “I’m what?” He’d said more during this visit than all of last week.

        Nurse Redheart put a hoof on his shoulder. “You’re going to permanently lose your voice… rather quickly, too. By this time next week…”

        Big Mac slid off the exam table. He’d never understand why sitting down for bad news was customary; sitting down meant defeat. “I’m… not gonna be able to talk anymore?”

        She looked into his eyes and nodded.

---

        Granny Smith was in the waiting room, clutching her purse in her hooves, lest one of the wayward magazines on the end table next to her try to steal it. She gave the reading material one last dour look before turning to Big Mac. “There ya’ are, youngin’. Got yourself clean bill ‘a health, just like last year?”

        Big Mac slumped into the chair next to her. “N…Nope.” That word, one of his two favorites, felt the more valuable than ever.

        Granny Smith slapped him on the back. “Well, out with it! What’s gone wrong? That mole on your hind leg need pruning?”

        He shook his head. Words had never come easy to him, now least of all. “I’m… loosin’ my voice, Granny… Doc says I’m gonna be mute within a week.”

        Her frown was almost audible. “Oh… my…”

        He hadn’t cried since Applejack did her fillyhood sojourn to Manehattan, but he felt like crying now. “It’s my voice, Granny. Can’t say I use it much, but… what am I gonna do?”

        Granny Smith stood and dabbed his eye with a handkerchief. “Hey now, Big Macintosh. Save the water for the flowers. The Apples have gotten through worse, we’ll get ya’ through this.”

        “But—”

        “It’s all in how ya’ look at this things. Barely two words slip out ‘a your mouth per week anyway, is it really gonna be that different?”

        He sighed. “Guess not, but… suppose I do have something to say? Barely spoken a word to half the ponies in this town since I was colt…”

        She gripped his foreleg and pulled him to his hooves; a feat ponies half her age would be a hard-pressed to accomplish. “Well then, guess we’ll just have to make do on the farm without you for a few days.”

        He stared into her warm smile. Maybe his hearing was going out, too. “What’re you saying?”

        “You’ve got a week, right? Go out there and say all those things you need to.”

        As usual, he didn’t know what to say. As usual, Granny simply gave him a hug. “Now don’t just stand here in this germ factory with your ol’ Granny. Find those ponies that need an earful! Skeedaddle!”

        “Eeyup!” He nodded, but didn’t break their embrace. “Thanks Granny. Thanks for… for raising all us little Apples when we needed it.”

        She batted a hoof dismissively. “Now don’t you waste another word on me, not when you could be out there seeing old friends, righting old wrongs… maybe talkin’ to a certain special somepony?”

        Big Mac didn’t know a pony as red as him could blush. “Granny…”

        “I fully expect some more little Apples running around before I’m gone, you hear? Can’t put all my stock in Applejack settling down, now can I?”

        “E…Eeyup.”

---

        Big Mac trotted up the dirt path towards the farm. At least he’d had the good sense to have his check-up bright and early, before too much of the day could be wasted. He definitely didn’t need a whole week to pay his last verbal respects. An hour or two would probably suffice, although a couple more wouldn’t hurt if he found his way to the schoolhouse.

        He crested a hill, and Sweet Apple Acres came into view. The rolling sea of apple trees looked best in the early morning light, or at least that’s what he’d always thought. Speaking wasn’t that important, in the grand scheme. Maybe he’d take up writing, like Pa used to.

        That was all assuming he could write legibly, of course. He plucked a twig off a nearby tree with his teeth, and scratched his name in the dirt with it. If he could barely read what he called writing, penning his worldly wisdom for the benefit of future generations didn’t sound too likely.

        The sound of tiny hooves, and a hummed country song, announced that he had a visitor. Apple Bloom looked as happy as could be as headed up the path. Judging by her bulging saddle bag, and the position of the sun, she was on her way to school.

        She smiled when she saw her big brother. “Heya, Big Mac! Back from your doctor visit?”

        “Eeyu—” He couldn’t just say that. Not to Apple Bloom, not to anypony else. “You… heading to school, Apple Bloom?”

        She nodded vigorously. “Yup. Just two more weeks ‘til summertime, then it’s nothing but having fun and crusading for my cutie mark!”

        “Need a ride there?”

        She gave her own hooves a glance. “Thanks, but I can walk just fine. I figure you’ve got important stuff to do, anyway.”

        He gave the farm a quick look. A day of apple bucking had never sounded better. “Yeah, but… could you help me with something real quick?”

        “I guess, but I’d better keep it short. Miss Cheerilee doesn’t take kindly to anypony being late.”

        He knelt down. “Hop on, I’ll have ya’ there in no time.”

        She was heavier than he remembered, although he really couldn’t recall the last time he’d needed to carry her anywhere. Pretty soon she’d be just as big as AJ. She was already just as independent.

        “So what can I help ya’ with?” She asked.

        “Well… I’m taking a little time for myself today, Apple Bloom. I wanted to go see a few friends of mine, but I want to make sure I don’t miss anypony. I feel like I ought to make a list, but my writing is awful bad, always has been. Think you could write it out for me?”

        He could feel her opening her saddlebag and fishing out the necessary supplies. “Sure thing! Just start naming those ponies and I’ll write ‘em down.”

        “Well… let’s see…” This was supposed to be the easy part. All he had to do was name off all the ponies he knew.

        Apple Bloom started writing anyway. “We’ll start with Miss Cheerilee. Haven’t heard you two say a word to each other in ages, even though everypony’s always talking about you and her.”

        “Everypony?”

        “Well… uh… some ponies… maybe. How about Spike? You two trade hoofball cards, right?”

        “That we do. So what ponies have been talking about me and—”

        “And if you’re gonna talk to Spike you just gotta put Princess Twilight on the list, too. She’s always got something good to say. Same goes for Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash, and Rarity, and—”

        He started to laugh. “This startin’ to sound like all of Applejack’s friends, Bloom.”

        “I can’t help it if she knows all the nicest ponies around. Who else do you want?”

        “Well… How about Mr. Cake? We play a friendly game of cards once in a—”

        Apple Bloom gasped. “I almost forgot Pinkie Pie! She’s the nicest of ‘em all!”

        He sighed. “Guess I’ll start with all of them and see where the day goes… Thanks, Apple Bloom.”

        “No problem! Guess this makes up for me and the Crusaders accidentally knocking down the barn last week, right?”

        He rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”

        The schoolhouse was on the horizon, along with Ponyville proper. Apple Bloom tapped on his shoulder. “Mind if I walk from here, Big Mac? I like talking with you and all, but…”

        He grinned. “You don’t want your friends to see you gettin’ hauled around like a baby.”

        She grinned, albeit sheepishly. “Yeah.”

        He nuzzled her behind the ear. “Fair enough. Say, think you could help me with my own writing? I… think I’m gonna try and do more of it.”

        She slid off his back. “Sure! Golly, can’t say I’ve ever heard you say this much. I like it!”

        He forced a grin. “How about we talk more after school? It’s no fair that AJ’s always the pony helping you with your homework. I can do my share… so long as it isn’t fancy writing, or making lists.”

        The school bell started to ring, and Apple Bloom gasped. “Sounds great, but I gotta run! See ya’ tonight!”

        Apple Bloom galloped into the distance, leaving Big Mac alone with his list of names. The farm didn’t need any more little Apples just yet. He needed to make up for lost time with the one that they already had.

---

        Big Mac gave the list a quick read. Seeing these ponies would take him all over town. With any luck, he finish up just as the school ended for the day. Maybe Cheerilee would be have a minute to spare. Then again, when would a mare like her ever have a minute, or even a second to call her own? Tending to a room full of little ponies like Apple Bloom sounded about as easy as herding cats.

        A baby duckling darted out of the bushes next to the path and stared up at him. Another appeared, and then a third. Each one stopped as soon as they noticed the red behemoth standing in the roadway. The mother duck came last of all, announcing her presence a fearsome quack worthy of a drill sergeant. The baby ducklings scurried into a line behind their mother, who promptly led them across the path and into the grass.

        Fluttershy flew over the bushes a few seconds later. “Careful now, lots of ponies come this way in the morn—” The mother duck shot Fluttershy a withering glare, and led her brood onward and out of sight.

        Fluttershy sank to the ground, right in front of Big Mac. “S-Sorry! I-I’ll keep up next time, I p-promise!”

        Big Mac took a second look at his list. Maybe Apple Bloom was onto something. “Morning, Fluttershy.”

        She glanced up at him, not unlike one of the baby ducklings. “Hi, Big Mac. Sorry, I don’t mean to block the path… I’d better be going.”

        “Just a minute, mind if we… have a few words?”

        She ran her front hooves through her mane with ever-increasing speed. “W-words? What’s wrong? What did I do?”

        “Nothing, I swear. Just thought I might help you out.”

        She gave a deep sigh of relief and put her hooves back on the ground. “Oh… What about?”

        “Well… what about what happened just now? That mother duck didn’t seem too grateful for you trying to help.”

        Fluttershy stared at the ground. “Oh, that was my fault. I got caught up talking to a hummingbird, but Mrs. Duck insisted on getting to the pond right away. I shouldn’t have dawdled.”

        Big Mac held back a grin. “Fluttershy… I understand helping animals is your special talent and all, but did you ever consider sticking up for yourself a bit more? No offense, but those little ducks looked like they had more backtalk in ‘em than you.”

        She took to running her hooves through her mane again. “I don’t want to be rude…”

        “Don’t mean they get be rude to you.”

        “I-I tried taking an assertiveness class, once. It was awful, I just ended up being mean.”

        “Didn’t say you have to act real different. Just start with… thinking different.”

        Her hoof motions stopped, and she stared at him. “Thinking different?”

        “Just because some critter thinks you ought to feel or act a certain way, doesn’t mean you have to.”

        “Oh… well I know that, but…”

        He knelt down so they were at eye level. “Bottling it up won’t help, either. How about this? Let it all out and give me your best right hook. Show me Fluttershy’s not afraid of what some busybody duck has to say.”

        She gasped and backed away. “H-hit you? I-I’d never do that! I-I never hit anypony!”

        He grinned. “I know, that’s why I’m offering. You can’t do me any harm, Fluttershy, Just let me have it.”

        He tapped his jaw and winked.

        She regarded her own hoof with abject terror, as if she was holding a lit stick of dynamite. “Are… are you sure?”

        He nodded. “Biggest part of standing up for yourself is knowing what you’re capable o—”

        Big Mac suddenly found himself sprawled on the side of the path with a throbbing pain in his jaw. “Wha… happened?”

        Fluttershy was hovering over him, gnawing on her hooves. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! A-are you okay, Big Mac? I-I really didn’t mean to! You just got me thinking about the way some of the animals have been treating me this week, and how I should’ve said something to them, and how I never do, and…”

        For a moment, Big Mac didn’t see the kind and sweet pegasus he’d stopped to help. In her place was some sort of winged punching machine with bricks for hooves. “That’s… that’s okay, Fluttershy. Guess I asked for it, didn’t I? Just… uh… just remember to stand up for yourself in little ways… If ya’ ever feel like hitting something, come buck a few apples with me and AJ. I’m pretty sure the trees can take it…”

        She helped him to his hooves and hugged him. “Thanks, Big Mac. It… it felt good to let that come out. We should do this more often.”

        He shivered. “Ya’ mean talk, right?”

        She giggled. “Yes, talk.”

---

        Big Mac stumbled into Sugar Cube Corner and found the nearest table. His head was still spinning. Maybe Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps were related. A milkshake would help, and would look less pathetic than a bag of ice. Not that he had anything to worry about, the bakery was deserted at this time of the morning. From the smell of things, the Cakes were in the back frosting cupcakes. He’d have to come back later to have a word with Carrot; all he had in mind for him was a “you’re on” for the next poker night, anyway.

        Pinkie Pie appeared behind the counter. “Howdy there, stranger-pony!”

        He had no idea what to say to Pinkie. Not that he ever did. Talking with the moon probably made more sense. “Howdy, Pinkie. Could you get me a—”

        She disappeared through a door. “Coming right up!”

        “But… you don’t know what—”

        And then she was back, this time with a tray balanced on her head.

        A moment later, a milkshake and a pair of cupcakes were in front of him. “What’s all th—”

        Pinkie held a cupcake under his nose. “These are Mrs. Cake’s newest recipe; Double Apple Surprise.”

        The cupcake found his way into his mouth as soon as he tried to speak. Pinkie leaned over to his ear. “The surprise is one of the ‘apples’ is a pineapple!”

        Her laugh was sweet, and the cupcake was sweeter still.

        “Thanks, Pinkie.”

        She held up the milkshake next. “And this is my newest recipe, I thought of it just before you walked in!”

        He dutifully took a sip. The milkshake somehow possessed the cool burn of an ice pack, a head-clearing jolt of energy, and a hint of coconut. “What do you call this, Pinkie?”

        “Bucket of ice water.”

        He took a second look at the concoction he was drinking, which was most definitely not just water, and then to the unpredictable mare who’d given it to him. “Thanks.”

        She nodded. “I’m still working on the name. So watchya doing here all bright and early and chatty?”

        He took a long pull on the straw. “Just… here to say hi, I guess. Happen to know if Mr. Cake still doing poker night this Tuesday?”

        She nodded. “He sure is! I’m babysitting upstairs. Are you coming?”

        “If there’s a spot at the table, I’ll be there.”

        Pinkie held up a hooffull of cards. “Always, Big Macsie. Always.” She turned the cards around to reveal a full house.

        “Where did—”

        The second cupcake found its way into his open mouth.

        Pinkie set the empty tray on her back. “Gotta run, Big Mac, there’s a whole lot more cupcakes that need baking before the lunch rush. Come by and talk again soon, ‘kay?”

        She was out of the room before he could finish chewing.

        He glanced around the empty room, secretly wishing for a bystander to compare notes with, and left a couple bits on the table. He hadn’t said much of anything to Pinkie Pie, unless his cupcake chewing counted. In Pinkie’s case, maybe it did.

---

        Big Mac stood outside Sugar Cube Corner, regarding the dessert-adorned building with slight incredulity. Maybe Fluttershy had hit him harder than he thought. Maybe he hadn’t talked to Pinkie at all. He licked his lips and tasted pineapple; so much for that theory.

        “Excuse me… coming through…”

        Big Mac turned to see a small mountain of grocery bags passing by on two purple feet. He leaned down to where he assumed the nearest ear was. “Spike?”

        Spike jumped, throwing the bags everywhere. “Ah! Oh, hey Big Mac!”

        “Sorry ‘bout your—”

        Spike started piling the bags on his shoulders again. “It’s no big deal. I’ve just got a ton of errands to run while Twilight gets her old gala dress refitted.”

        Big Mac gingerly picked up a bag with his teeth and deposited it on his own back. “That so? Mind if I help you out?”

        “That’d be great! I—” Spike looked at him and arched an eyebrow. “That’s like, seven more words than I’ve ever heard you say at once.”

        Big Mac’s eyes darted around, and he leaned down for another grocery bag. “Just… have a few things to say is all. Figured I’d see all my friends today… tell ‘em stuff I’ve been meaning to.”

        Spike gave him a long stare before returning his own attention to the bags. “Okay… So… wanna see my new hoofball card? It’s in here somewhere…” He opened one of the bags and dug around inside.

        Big Mac peered over his shoulder, and saw that the bag was full of comic books. “Thought you were getting groceries or something.”

        “I am, but while I was out I decided to stop by the comic shop and see if they had anything new. I’ve been saving up to buy this super-rare copy of Power Ponies issue ten, the one where they introduced the Mane-iac. I just couldn’t say no to some of these beauties in the mean time, though.”

        Big Mac nodded. “I see. So that’s what you spend your bits on?”

        Spike’s rummaging ceased. “Well… yeah. Everypony’s got a hobby, right? Comics are just what I do when I’m not cooking, cleaning, or doing whatever else Twilight needs.”

        “Looks like more than just a hobby, from where I’m standing.”

        Spike folded his arms and glared at him. “Last I checked you’ve got more hoofball cards under your bed than the store has, Big Mac.”

        “True, but that’s a lifetime collection, Spike. Pa gave me most of it, and I only buy a new card every now and then. I could buy out the whole store if I wanted… but I don’t.”

        Spike gave a deep sigh. “I guess I kind of went overboard, didn’t I? I’d better return all this stuff, before Twilight sees.”

        “Where’d you say she was again?”

        “Getting a dress refitted. Hey, maybe I can use the bits to get something nice for Rarity instead!”

        Big Mac smiled. “You aim pretty high, Spike.”

        Spike blushed. “I can’t help it. Rarity’s gorgeous, and talented, and… y-you don’t like her too, do you?”

        “Me? No, no. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, there.”

        “That’s a relief. So, what should get her? I could get her her favorite chocolates again, but I know she’s trying to watch her figure… Flowers are healthy though, so that’d be okay, right?”

        Big Mac patted him on the head. “You’ll think of somethin’. Since we’re on the subject, mind if I give you some advice? Might sound strange, what with my bein’ a bachelor myself, but—”

        The bags fell to the ground again. Spike stared at him, open-mouthed. “Really? You really want to help me out? Nopony else even takes this seriously, not even Twilight.”

        “I know. I used to hear the same things, from time to time, Spike, and I figure you’re ready to hear what my Pa told me.”

        Spike nodded and held out his hands, as if Big Mac was about to give him a literal key to a mare’s heart. Big Mac knocked him on the chin instead. “Time to decide what you’re gonna be, Spike, a kid or a grown up. You spend a fair bit of time acting like both, but a mare’s only interested in one. You want a chance with a mare, you’d better be able to call yourself a stallion, and means you think things through and know how to provide. All the flowers in the world don’t measure up to keeping a roof over her head.”

        Spike stood there, as still as an apple tree, for seconds on end. Big Mac, meanwhile, picked up the bags, save the one filled with comic books, and make a neat pile on his back. How in Equestria Spike managed to carry this much was beyond him; that was the magic of arms, he supposed.

        “I’ll do you one better, Spike. How about I carry all this to the castle for ya’, and—”

        Spike balled up a fist. “No. No, I’ve got this. You’ve got other ponies to see, right? You go do that, I’ve got my own job to do.”

        Moments later, all of the bags were back in Spike’s arms. All except one.

        Big Mac prodded the forelorne bag of comics. “Think you missed one.”

        “Nope. I don’t want it.”

        “But all this must’ve cost—”

        “I don’t want the bits back. I’ll earn some more, and I’ll keep them this time. Just give the comics to somepony else… Pass them out after school or something.”

        Big Mac glanced at the town clock. School wouldn’t let out for a little while yet. Just as well; he had a few more ponies to see before working up the courage to talk to Cheerilee. Figuring out what to say wouldn’t hurt either.

        He held up the list and started crossing off names in his mind. If Apple Bloom’s list-making skills held up, and he suspected that they would, Rarity’s shop would be his next stop. He started at a quick trot, eager to cross her and Twilight off the list in one fell swoop.

---

        A gust of wind rustled his mane, and a Rainbow Dash appeared by his side, hovering just high enough to put them at eye level. “Hey Big Mac, what gives? I just ran into Spike, and he was acting all serious. He said you were going around, talking to every pony in town or something.”

        He nodded. “Eeyup.”

        She folded her forelegs. “Yeah? Then say something new, already.”

        “Howdy, Rainbow.”

        She smiled. “Hah, awesome! So what’s your favorite kind of apple? What’s the capital of Equestria? What’s with the bag? ”

        He glanced at the bag on his back. “Uh… Just some comics I need to get rid of. Say, what don’t you take ‘em? Give ’em to that little pegasus that’s always talking about you, the one with the scooter.”

        “You mean Scootaloo?”

        “Yeah.”

        Rainbow shrugged. “Eh, sure. I don’t really know if she’s into those, but hey, free gift from the most awesome mare around. Maybe I can get her into Daring Do next.” She tucked the bag under her foreleg. “So why’re you doing all this talking, all of the sudden? Spike made it sound like you were in a big hurry.”

        Big Mac rolled his eyes. He should’ve just told Spike to learn to keep his mouth shut, that was another important lesson when it came to mares. “No real hurry I guess… just got a few ponies I want to say a thing or two to. Nothing wrong with that.”

        She cocked an eyebrow. “That’s all, eh? If that’s true, what’ve you got to say to me?”

        “I… well…”

        She hovered right in front of his face, smiling big. “Come on, AJ always says you don’t talk because your too busy thinking, so prove it.”

        Applejack. That was something he could work with. “How about this: could you cut her some slack?”

        Rainbow’s smile vanished. “Huh?”

        “AJ. I know you two are friends and all, but the way you compete sometimes makes me wonder if you’re just one fight away from going your separate ways.”

        Rainbow sank to the ground. Apparently he’d taken the air from under her wings as well as from her lungs. “That’s… crazy. W-We’re just both into winning. There’s no way that could hurt ever our friendship!”

        Big Mac leaned down until they were nose to nose, and grinned. “Prove it.”

        Rainbow’s eyes got as big as sheep’s on shearing day. “I-gotta-go-thanks-bye.”

        Hurricane-force winds heralded her departure.

        Big Mac picked up his pace. At this rate, the whole town would be lining up for his supposed words of wisdom before the school bell rang.

---

        Big Mac stepped into the Carousel Boutique and, not knowing any better, took a deep breath. The amount of perfume in the air bordered on lethal. Stuffing roses up his nose would’ve been less hazardous, thorns included.

        A number of elderly ponies browsing through the racks turned and watched him gasp and wheeze. He caught a sympathetic, watery-eyed look from a fellow stallion, at least until the mare he was attached to hurried him along to the next line of dresses on display.

        “Rar—” He coughed again. He couldn’t let a little perfume rob him of his voice, not before he’d finished his rounds. “Anypony seen the mare of the establishment? Where’s Miss Rarity?”

        “Psst!” Twilight was looking at him from a nearly closed door at the far end of the shop, and her gaze said plenty: follow me if you want to live.

        Twilight opened the door for him, and promptly shut it afterwards. He took a deep, fragrance-free breath, and nodded his thanks.

        She pointed to an open window nearby, the source of breathable air. “I know, I know. It’s way past overpowering. That’s why I’m hiding back here while Rarity finishes my dress.”

        “Is it always like this in here?”

        Twilight gasped. “Wow, it’s true; you’re talking a lot today!”

        Big Mac sighed. “Spike been here, too?”

        “Spike? I heard it from Rainbow Dash.”

        He put a hoof to his face. “ ‘course you did.”

        She touched a hoof to his shoulder. “Is everything all right?”

        “Right enough. Could ya’ just direct me to Rarity? Got a thing or two I need to say.”

        Right on cue, Rarity stepped through an open door with a dress floating next to her. “So sorry to keep you waiting, Twilight. I believe this time the wing holes will be much—why Big Macintosh, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

        Rarity glanced at Twilight, who nodded and smiled big.

        Big Mac sighed. “Yes, yes. I’m talkin’ up a storm today. Don’t suppose you and I could have a word?”

        Twilight slid next to Rarity and grinned. “Yes?”

        He shut his eyes. “In private, if that’s all right.”

        Rarity giggled. “Very well. Come with me, Big Mac. If you value your lungs, I’d recommend we move further away from the storefront; the Elders of Ponyville Society is making its monthly pilgrimage and… well you’ve smelled it yourself, haven’t you?”

        He followed her through the door and into a room lined with windows, fabric swatches, and mannequins. “ ‘fraid I have. Powerful stuff.”

        She cracked open the nearest window, and smiled at him. “If the rumors are to believed, your vocabulary has been rather… prolific, today. What might you have to say to me?”

        “Just that…” This should’ve been an easy one. He’d known from the minute Apple Bloom wrote down her name what he needed to tell her. “… I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sing in the Pony Tones no more.”

        Rarity gave one of her legendary gasps. “Leave the Pony Tones? You can’t be serious, Big Mac! You are, without question, the best bass voice in town!”

        “Shucks, that’s nice of ya’, but—”

        She stomped a hoof. “I won’t hear of it. I simply won’t. We need you, Big Mac. Your gift is undeniable, and depriving ponykind of it is tantamount to a crime. We simply must have you in the Pony Tones, no matter the extenuating circumstances.”

        He bit his lip. Spike had no idea what he was asking for. “How about… as long as I have the best bass voice in town, I’ll be there.”

        She smiled and fanned herself with a hoof. “Now that’s more like it. I know that was rather pushy of me, Big Mac, but honestly the Pony Tones couldn’t survive without you. Toe Tapper and Torch Song could replace a soprano like myself with little effort, but you…” She placed a hoof on his cheek. “You are irreplaceable.”

        For a moment he saw exactly what Spike did, but only for a moment. “We’ll see, I suppose. That’s all I came to say, but… well I guess there’s something else, too.”

        She nodded. “Yes?”

        There was no sugar-coating it. “Think you could give Spike a chance?”

        She smiled vanished. “Pardon?”

        “I know it’s not really my place to say, but—”

        Rarity stepped away and blushed furiously. “It certainly isn’t. He didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

        “No, ‘course not! In fact if he asks, I didn’t say nothing at all on the subject.”

        She turned to a nearby worktable and started straightening a stack of fabric squares. “If he isn’t behind this little… intrusion, then why?”

        He wasn’t sure he knew. “Just felt like I needed to. I’ll never mention it again, I swear. Just thought… just thought I’d plant the seed.”

        “Indeed. I suppose my own brazen move to save the Pony Tones makes this fair play. You may consider the ‘seed’… ‘planted,’ as it were, Big Mac. I make absolutely no promises, and I absolutely demand that this conversation not leave this room. Good day.”

        “Thank you for talking with me, Miss Rarity.” Thanking her for allowing him to leave with all his limbs still attached sounded equally fair.

        He returned to the previous room, and found Twilight staring at him with the biggest look of horror he’d ever seen. At first he assumed she’d had her ear to the door, at least until he saw the paper on the ground in front of her. He must have dropped it right after his escape from the gas chamber.

        “Big Mac… what’s going on?”

        He glanced around. This room had two doors, and he wasn’t anxious to go through either one of them. “N-Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

        Twilight held up the list and marched toward him with a heart-stopping glare fixed on the spot between his eyes. “So this list of ponies you wanted to talk to, this list of friends that you just happened to decide to visit today… That wouldn’t have anything to do with, I don’t know, a certain early-morning doctor’s visit that Applejack says you’ve been whining about for months?”

        “Ah… err… Nope! Just… speaking my mind for once, is all.” In a moment she’d have him literally backed into a corner, and he knew it.

        “Oh? Then speak it: what do you have to say to me?”

        He studied her clenched teeth for a moment. “Princess Twilight… you… worry too much.”

        Twilight had a counter argument. Big Mac had an escape plan.

        He sailed through the open window, catching a few syllables of her shrill reply and hoping against hope that she didn’t blast him into next week with her magic.

---

        The school bell was ringing, and Big Mac was running. Fillies and Colts whizzed by on the left and right with joy equal to his own. School was out, and they were fleeing the schoolhouse as if it was on fire, whereas he knew that it was the rest of Ponyville that was actually ablaze. If he didn’t get indoors quick, something bad was likely to happen, like running into anypony other than the one mare that he actually needed to have a word with.

         He caught sight of Apple Bloom and her friends at the far end of the school yard, off to cause another disaster, no doubt. There wasn’t another school-age pony to be seen, just the way he’d hoped. He skidded to a stop and looked the building up and down. The white columns by the door could do with a new coat of paint, which he happened to have back at the farm. Some fool part of him wanted to turn around right there and go get it.

        Instead, he stepped through the entrance and breathed in the scent of chalk. In so many ways, the schoolhouse looked as he expected it to before school, as opposed to after. The little desks were lined up straight, and almost as clean as the chalkboard they faced. To say Cheerilee ran a tight ship just didn’t do it justice. He could barely keep up with Apple Bloom. How Cheerilee managed to hold the attention, and command the respect, of a roomful of spit-ball-throwing, note-passing fillies and colts was beyond him, just like what in Equestria he could say to her.

        “Hello, Big Mac.”

        His breathing stopped, as did his heart. He stared blankly at the chalk board as Cheerilee walked around from behind him. She must have been by the front window, watching her little ponies take off for the day. That also meant she’d seen him gallop up like a stampeding cow.

        “H… uh… Hello, Miss Cheerilee.”

        She stepped into his view, wearing the same smile he remembered from their last encounter on Hearts and Hooves Day. Sure, their ‘date’ at the end of it was just to bait Apple Bloom and her friends into a well-deserved panic, but that didn’t mean it he didn’t think highly of it, or of her.

        “My, you’re talkative today. Did you have something to say? Is this about Apple Bloom? She said you might stop by.”

        He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “N-nope.”

        She walked to her desk at the front of the classroom and retrieved an extremely overstuffed saddle bag. “I was actually just on my way out. So many papers to grade before the school year ends…”

        May I carry that for you? That’s what he was willing his lips to say. They weren’t cooperating.

        She trudged her way back to him, clearly strained by the bag’s weight. “I imagine you’re busy too, what with harvest season coming up. That’s all Apple Bloom’s been talking about.”

        He nodded, and uttered his favored stand-in for intelligent conversation. “Eeyup.”

        She smiled again, although the tiredness in her eyes was all the more evident now.

        Forget the saddle bag; he’d carry it and her.

        “So, did you have any particular reason for this little visit?”

        Fireworks were exploding between his ears. “Err…err… Nope.”

        Her smile faded, and her ears drooped. “Oh… well thank for you stopping by, all the same. My sister in Fillydelphia keeps saying I should visit for the summer, maybe I actually will.”

        A train could’ve passed through his open mouth with room to spare.

        Cheerilee opened the door and motioned for him to follow. “I need to lock up for the night, Big Mac, unless you had anything else to say.”

        He hung his head. “Nope.”

---

        Big Mac shambled his way through Cider Trough’s door, feeling loopier and lonelier than the barflies drooling on the countertop. As local watering holes go, this place was the bottom of the barrel, the kind of establishment that Granny Smith wouldn’t even mention in polite company. In that sense, it sounded like the perfect place to tend to a broken heart, or at least to drown it.

        He stepped across the sawdust floor, forever thankful that nopony here would recognize him. None of them would care if he had a thing to say, wise or foolish. The later was more likely, anyway. He scanned the room for a spot to get off his hooves. Every barstool was taken, as was every table.

        So much for not saying anything. He pulled out the nearest chair and stared at the single mare occupying the table. “Pardon me, miss. Mind if I sit? I’m just here to rest a spell, no pick up lines, no funny business.”

        The mare, a grey one with a blonde mane, had a hoof wrapped around a half-empty mug. She glanced up at him, or at least one of her eyes did. The other seemed to be staring off into space for some reason. “Oh… oh wow, sure!”

        Big Mac didn’t care for her enthusiasm, but he wasn’t here to argue. He wasn’t here to talk at all. His throat hurt, which was probably the first sign that his voice was going out for good. All he needed was a little solitude, and a late lunch. So what if one of them was in liquid form.

        She seemed more than willing to talk, however. “Wow… Nopony ever sits by me. Not since… ever! Do you remember me who I am?”

        He shook his head. “Nope.”

        She grinned an inebriated grin. “I deliver your mail! Nopony ever thinks about the mail mare… unless I mess up. That’s how it’s supposed to be and everything, but—” Tears welled up in her eyes. “—I try really hard! I-I just don’t have good depth perception, and letters and numbers get all fuzzy sometimes!”

        He watched her cry quietly into the tabletop. Comforting her was only slightly higher on his priority list than finishing off whatever grog she’d been drinking. Still, Granny didn’t raise him to ignore a pony in distress.

        “There… uh… There there.”

        She sniffled loudly. “Nopony ever sits and talks with me… nopony ever listens…”

        Big Mac was ready to excuse himself. She grabbed his hoof, as if she knew. “S-say something, please? Anything.”

        “Uh…” His track record of helping friends today was spotty at best. Still, the bloodshot stare-down she was giving him tore him up inside in a way not even Cheerilee had managed to. “W-why don’t ponies like to talk with you? You seem nice enough.”

        She chuckled. “Lots of reasons. I mess stuff up all the time. At least nopony calls me names anymore…”

        “Names? Now that’s no way to treat a pony, young or full grown.”

        She nodded emphatically. “I know! I moved away from Cloudsdale right after school just so it’d stop! I—”

        The bar’s door swung open, and a group of pegasus stallions strolled in, laughing to themselves.

        The grey hooves grasping Big Mac’s foreleg shivered. “Oh no! No no no! That’s… that’s the captain of the hoofball team from my old school in Cloudsdale, and all his cronies. What’re they doing here? I-I’d better go before they see me!”

        Big Mac knocked a hoof on the table. “Now hold on a second. You’re a grown mare, ain’t you?”

        She slowly nodded. “Y-yeah, but they—”

        “This ain’t recess. Who cares what some other ponies think, you’re you, and you gotta be proud of that. Letting some other pony tell you who you are ain’t no way to live, not even for a day.”

        She shrank down in her seat. “B-but—”

        “But nothing. I’ll walk right up there with you, if you want. Show ’em you’re your own pony. Who knows, maybe they’re all grown up now too, nice and everything.”

        The laugher doubled in volume, and somehow Big Mac knew it was directed at her. One of the stallions walked over. “Check it out, dudes. You’ll never guess who I found over here!”

        The grey mare cringed. Big Mac stood up. “Now just a minute. If the lady don’t want to talk to you, you’d better just move along and leave her be.”

        She stood, too. “No… no. You’re right. I can be proud of who I am. I’m not afraid of you any more, Kicker. You might’ve called me names before, but that’s not who I am. I’ve got a job, a house—” She wrapped a foreleg around Big Mac “—and at least one really nice friend. I’m not that filly you used to push around.”

        Kicker sneered at her. “Oh yeah? So even if I call you Der—”

        Big Mac was knocked down by what could best be described as a grey explosion. He spat out some sawdust and, to his surprise, saw Kicker on the ground next to him with a mouth full of it. The grey mare had him pinned to the floor, one foreleg around his neck, the other brandishing the razor-sharp remains of her glass mug.

        Her voice shook the room like thunder. “The name’s Ditzy, you jerk! You want me to write down for you? How about right across that big, stupid forehead? Huh? Just so happens I’ve got a nice sharp pen, right here!”

        Big Mac lunged forward, as did every other pony in the bar. Suddenly hooves, mugs, and bodies were crashing down everywhere, including on top of his head. The world faded to black in the midst of Ditzy’s rage-filled cries for blood.

---

        Big Mac’s head hurt something fierce. He opened an eye, and then the other. Neither one was swollen shut. That was a good sign, at least. Maybe the bar fight hadn’t been so bad after all.

        Then he realized where he was. He was back at the doctor’s, laying on a hospital bed with a bandage wrapped around his forehead. Worse still, Applejack was seated in the chair next to him.

        She glared down at him. “Evening, Big Mac.”

        He opened his mouth, despite all fears of if anything would come out. “Appleja—”

        “You mind tellin’ me why half the ponies in town have this fool idea that you’re about to kick the bucket? Twilight already had Princess Celestia on high alert to make an appearance at your funeral.”

        “I can—”

        She slammed her hat down on his chest. “You’re funeral, Big Mac! Granny told me what’s really goin’ on… or least what you thought was.”

        “Huh?”

        Applejack crossed her forelegs and turned away. “So you took the whole day to give your pipes one last hurrah. I get that and all, but—” She whirled around to face him with tears in her eyes. “Why wasn’t I on your list, Big Mac? Don’t I matter to you? We work next to each other every day! We’ve been through thick and thin! We… We dug Ma and Pa’s graves together! Am I that bad of a sister that I don’t deserve a last word from you?”

        He reached up to pull her into a hug. She batted his foreleg away, but he followed up with the other one. She was getting a hug, even if it cost him his front teeth. “Applejack… ‘course you deserve a word or two. You deserve all of ’em, and then some. You weren’t on that list because… well, same reason Apple Bloom and Granny Smith weren’t. You and I, we’ve done so much together, we’ve done things that… that I don’t think there’s words for. I love ya’, AJ. Simple as that. Don’t think I can ever say it like I really mean it, but there ya’ go.”

        She raised her head off his shoulder and sniffled. “Thanks, Big Mac. Sorry I got so bent out of shape. I should’ve thought more of you.”

        Big Mac shook his head. “Nope. I should’ve thought, period. This whole day I’ve been wasting my time. Sure, friends are nice an’ all, but I should’ve just kept Apple Bloom home from school and spent the whole time with her, you, and Granny Smith. That’s who my last words should be for.”

        Applejack wiped a foreleg across her eyes and grinned. “Heh, about that…”

        Nurse Redheart burst through the door. She was panting, glistening with sweat, and missing her hat. “Oh good, you’re awake. I hope you’re ready to check out; we need every bed in the hospital. We just got another round of patients from the bar fight. It seems like just about every pony with a score to settle went nuts today.”

        Big Mac gasped. “That mare… Ditzy. She okay?”

        Nurse Redheart gave a slow, stern nod. “Ditzy M. Hooves. She’ll be fine. The pony she attacked agreed not to press charges, so long the stitches don’t scar, and so long as Ms. Hooves speaks to a counselor about her rage issues.”

        “Could I see her? Kinda feel like I should apologize for everything.”

        She shook her head. “Tomorrow, after she’s slept off whatever dreck they serve at that dive.”

        Applejack cleared her throat. “Say, Nurse Readheart, don’t you think there’s some other important news you should be telling him?”

        The two mares locked eyes, which Big Mac assumed was likely to start a fire. Nurse Redheart blinked, and gave him a weak smile. “It… seems we made a slight mistake with your test results this morning.”

        He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

        Applejack snorted. “ ‘Slight’ my hoof…”

        Nurse Redheart nodded. “It seems somepony in the lab mixed up the test tubes. You’re not loosing your voice, Big Mac. You’re as healthy as a horse, aside from the minor concussion you sustained when somepony broke a barstool over your head.”

        He gasped.

        Applejack glowered at her. “We’re not going to be seeing a bill for this little mix up, now are we?”

        Nurse Redheart shook her head. “No Ma’am. I’ll fill out all the paperwork. You can just leave as soon as you’re ready.”

        “We’re ready right now. Let’s hit the road, Big Mac.”

        He nodded. “Eeyu—wait!”

        Applejack winced like she’d just stepped on a thistle. “What now?”

        Big Mac hurried past her. “I’ve got one more stop to make. Think Miss Cheerilee is still up?”

        Applejack sighed. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”

        “Eeyup.”