Still not quite sure why, you’re compelled to follow the mare... even just to get her name.
It feels like it goes even deeper than that, though. She must have really left an impression on you. Either that, or you’re more susceptible to alcohol than you thought.
With a steady canter you’re back out in the street, and spot the orange pony heading across towards the center of town. You pull up just behind her and she looks round, seemingly puzzled.
“What do you want? Don’t tell me you want a rematch. Some folks don’t know when to quit.”
What do you want? You’re not even sure how to answer now you’re here and have her staring you down, awaiting an explanation.
“I couldn’t just walk away like that. You’re... not like most other mares.”
She doesn’t respond, her eyes looking you up and down, and finally she smirks, as if she’s caught on to a secret you didn’t even know you were keeping.
“Oh, I get it.” She chuckled. “You liked what I did back there, didn’t you?”
What? What was she talking about?
“Don’t worry. Ain’t no shame in it. If you’re gonna get your corn hard form farts, good thing you came across the best farter in Ponyville.”
You really were lost. She couldn’t be suggesting that you were... attracted to her farts, could she? You felt as if you could be attracted to her, but the raucous wind she seemed to pump out like air, the smell of which you could still feel in the back of your throat, was the least attractive thing about her.
“That is the reason you followed me, right?”
You couldn’t just let her slip away now, though, and for some reason came out with...
“Yes. Y-Yes. Your flatulence was so... alluring.”
It felt awkward to even say, but you couldn’t imagine a situation where it wouldn’t.
She laughed again. “And Granny Smith always said letting fly the way I do would keep admirers away. I’m Applejack, by the way.”
She offered you her hoof, and worried for a second she might let something go if you tugged it, reached across and shook it.
“You’re in luck, too. I don’t know what I ate but my belly’s brewin’ up somethin’ fierce.”
You realize the situation you now have yourself in, but you want to see where it’ll go.
“In fact, I was going to stop by my friend Rainbow Dash and see if she wanted a contest. If not her, then Pinkie Pie. Those two usually seem to be up for it. We could certainly use an impartial - or partial - judge.”
“Contest?”
She stares at you for a second. “Uh... fart contest. I assumed that was obvious given you just lost one.” She added teasingly.
“However, if you’re more inclined, we could just head back to the farm and I could give you a little one on one session. I’m sure that’s one of your wildest fantasies, right?”
Did either of these options even sound preferable? It seemed to come down to being farted on by either one pony or two. Either way, the end result was not too different.
“How about we walk and I’ll have a think about it?”
“If you want. We gotta head in the same direction either way.”
And so you headed off in whatever direction that was - you and Applejack.
You thought for a moment about how different your day could be going if you hadn’t decided to follow her outside. You’d probably be resting on a comfortable bed in a room upstairs, but you would also be wondering what might have happened had you not followed her.
How were you going to play along, too? Feign an attraction to farts? If the one she let out earlier was any indication, they wouldn’t be pleasant to inhale willingly, but then perhaps she’d find some triumph in making even someone aroused by farts disgusted by hers.
“What brings you to Ponyville, anyways?” She struck up a conversation.
“I’m here to work with Twilight Sparkle as an assistant.”
“You don’t say. We’re good friends, although - I think you made the right choice. I can’t imagine her gas smellin’ any worse than a bouquet of flowers, or something. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever even heard her cut the cheese.”
Again, you’re not sure how to answer, but the walk across town seems to have passed much more quickly than you expected.
“Well. Here we are. The fork in the road, so to speak. Do you want to judge a contest or have me all to yourself?”
You felt as if you’d made up your mind, and go with...
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