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“Red Delicious” by Buddy Goodboy

Big Mac from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic leans into the “big” part of his name and starts to enjoy being the biggest, plumpest Apple around!

Today’s story is “Red Delicious” by Buddy Goodboy, who has a gallery on FurAffinity, at furaffinity.net/user/BuddyGoodboyEsq.

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Transcript
Khaki QOD:

You're listening to the voice of dog.

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I'm cocky.

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You're faithful, fireside companion.

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And today's story is.

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Red delicious.

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Bye buddy.

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Good boy.

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Who has a gallery on Firth entity.

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Please enjoy.

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Red delicious.

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Bye buddy.

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Good boy.

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Um, Macintosh, but every pony calls me Mac.

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Big Mac ever since I filled out might, but lately the Appalachian

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don't seem to do me justice.

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With my sister, apple, Jack out, saving a question all the time.

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I guess I just wanted every pony to pay attention to me for once.

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So I started eating.

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And boy, let me tell you.

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I started getting attention.

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Amazing how much your body can say without you having to speak.

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Uh, mine said, look at me.

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Mom said.

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I'm big, I'm strong and I'll have what our dorm will, please for lunch please.

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And thanks.

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And I ain't afraid to be stared at for once.

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Oh, I'll work hard.

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And when I'm off, I'll tweet myself.

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I'll eat like a horse because I am a horse and I worked for this body.

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So I ain't gotta be afraid to show off any inch of it.

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Not that I can help showing it off.

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I was bigger than any two ponies you could name anyway, and I'm closer

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to four nowadays, a lot of interest to show off and then redirection.

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Other ponies have noticed.

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And sometimes they want to use me to show them off.

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Sugar cube corner has a little sign in the window.

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Big Mac each here.

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Little draw and then me nose down in an apple pie, fat rear up in the air.

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Waggling, all happy lack.

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Good for business.

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They said.

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Free advertising.

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I said, but then Mrs.

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Cake sent me a case of apple fritters and.

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I said there was more where that came from.

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Nana.

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I said, okay.

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And then I went to the Haber, go down the street, bellied up to the counter

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and said how July to tell every pony.

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I eat here.

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. I've always been a big fella, but once I started eating in earnest, I've been fine

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that everything's just a little too small.

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Doors for instance.

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Picture, if you will.

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Uh, dutiful big brother dropping off a forgotten school book for his sister.

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For gifting himself that the school house door weren't exactly

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friendly to his expanded stature.

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Strong as that big brother, is he stretching easy as you please Wiz

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limit tune, barely notes in the wood-frame against these hide.

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He's felt that often enough lately.

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It doesn't even notice anymore.

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Uh, deal suddenly he feels a pinch round, his flanks and he looks back.

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A big thick roll red and shiny and curvy is any apple boulders

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out toward him over the doorframe.

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And on the other side of the door.

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He hasn't even gotten as wide as part through.

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He pushes with a strong hand legs.

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But he only gets more of his fat self stuffed and stuck inside.

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The size and tries to toss his sister's book toward her desk.

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Any weights?

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And then pictures, school teacher coming back early from recess to find

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two big green apples waiting for.

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And for push, uh, tell you.

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If my cheeks, weren't already red.

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But it ain't all bad.

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For the first time I got mayors and stallions, both brushing up against me.

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Of course, it's partly on account of how much space I take up, but that don't

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account for the looks on their faces.

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There's a little surprise at first, but then as a shoulder, past them

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and I press against them and they sink just a little into the surface.

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I see a lot of relaxed ponies.

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I never used to see that.

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I like that.

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I like to think that it's because for the first time, I'm not just big.

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Um, plush.

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Every end, shimmies soft, hard and strong muscle.

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With enough patent in between to make even the pickiest pony comfy.

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And every pony wants to feel comfy.

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You too, don't you.

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Anyway.

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It was the slow season and we were waiting for the apples

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to ripen before the harvest.

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We had months to go before I had to do real grunt work.

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So I was enjoying myself by harvesting the other fruits of my labor.

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I'd spent months stuffing myself every chance I got, I was still the strongest

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stallion around, but I grew my lead on biggest stallion by a wide margin.

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Every place in town that served even snacks had a sign in the

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window, big Mac each here.

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I'll let him keep up the signs.

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As long as they kept me in munchies.

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Apparently business was good enough that they widened the doors for me.

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Mrs.

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KCH told me the morning I'd spent stuck in her door, gave her the

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best afternoon rush she'd ever seen.

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Police were saying is the bakery is good enough that I'd get myself

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stuck snack while I waited to be slid out and still leave with

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enough fritters to Gorge myself.

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Or they had to have something.

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Mrs cake told me, I'd have to do it again sometime.

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And she popped the double frosted cupcake into my mouth.

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Bud.

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My sister AIG had a bee in her bonnet bout it.

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And call the family meeting.

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I was as was getting to be usual, the center of attention.

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When you were as wide as any three police standing shoulder to shoulder and

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your belly hangs down past your knees.

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That happens.

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And that was what Aja wanted to talk about.

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She planted a hoof right on my belly.

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And Sanken in deep poking me for emphasis.

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If any pony has got to use this to sell food, it'll be the apple family.

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And so I was sent out to make a tour Equestria just during the slow season,

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man, I'd still have my usual chores.

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When I got back to advertise our apples, our baked goodies and our cider.

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Well, if there's anything I can do these days, it's draw attention.

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So I just had to go round and show ponies how good everything tasted and take

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orders for when the apple harvest came in.

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So that's how I wound up visiting Appaloosa.

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I got told they got apples, but they ain't got sweet apple acres, apples.

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So go show them what they're missing.

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There's one thing I can always count on soon as I'll get off the express.

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And that's my cousin Braeburn.

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. Hey there, cousin.

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He's always a yellow stampede grin and like anything.

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And he's always coming right for me.

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Welcome to Appaloosa.

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And usually he wanted to push me around town and show me the sides.

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But this time he plowed into me and bounced.

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Um, not so easily pushed no more.

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He picked himself up and brushed off his hat.

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Placing it back on his head.

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He looked like he really saw me for the first time because his mouth was

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hanging open and he wasn't talking.

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Cousin you were.

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Yup.

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Oh, let myself go.

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Cousin.

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Uh, pushed myself.

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You look healthy.

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Yup.

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I pulled them in for a big hug and let him snug right into me.

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He was surprised at first, but relaxed on to me soon enough.

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Eventually.

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I put him down and we talked shop.

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. I got your letter cousin, and I think you're really onto something.

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Bonevilles great, but branching out, it's going to be great for business.

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But I don't think I understand.

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Why do you want to try Appaloosa first?

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They got apples here.

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Plenty of them.

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Yup.

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And if even Appaloosa or just from sweet apple acres.

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Every pony will know.

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We must really be something.

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We wound up setting up a stage in the middle of town . I put in the

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table in front of a big curtain.

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The table ad PI's loads of them.

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They came in boxes from different bakeries in town with a label spun routes.

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You could see them from the crowd.

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And there was a crowd, of course.

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Rayburn can get anyone to go anywhere when he uses his head.

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. . I want to thank all you ponies for joining me on this.

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Be useful Appaloosa day.

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And I want to introduce y'all to a friend of mine, my cousin, big Macintosh.

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He pulled the curtain open.

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Uh, rumbled out and let everyone get a good long look at me.

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Blubbery bright red hide with two stretched and gleaming green apples,

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wobbling and screaming for attention.

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The crowd hushed.

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Braeburn brandished a pie before the crowd.

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B hold it's a pie.

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It's apple and it's from the best bakery in town.

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He put it on the table in front of me.

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I sniffed it.

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Nibbled the crust a little and turned my nose up.

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What's the matter cousin.

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Thank you.

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Hungry.

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Yup.

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Well, don't you want this here?

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Apple pie.

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Um, Nope.

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He build over another one.

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What about this here?

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It's a local legend, some cinnamon, some sugar, and it's

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dealing with a scoop of ice cream.

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Um, Nope.

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We went through a pie from every bakery in town together.

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The ground.

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Wondered why I turned down every last one.

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My stomach was growling up a storm and the crowd jumped at every rumble.

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Finally Braeburn pulled out a pie.

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I brought with me.

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Golden brown, flaky.

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And with just a tad of sugar frosted round the edges.

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Well, cousin, all we got left is this here?

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I stuffed my face into the pot and gobbled it down as quick as lightning.

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Ah, lick my lips and said, . Um, big Mac and eat at sweet apple acres.

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That's right.

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Every pony, big Mac eats at sweet apple acres.

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You ain't seeing any apples like these, we got fritters pies, candied apples, cider.

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We ran out of samples and then out of order forms.

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That night.

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Braeburn and I stayed up.

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And join my stash of leftovers and a keg of cider.

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I knows the end of his mug up into the air and he gulped down the cider.

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He was starting to slur and wobble on his feet.

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Cousins.

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Don't they need you back the farm.

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Yup.

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But you're doing great business out here.

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You can't quit now.

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Businesses.

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Grown.

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He looked at my belly.

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After we did our sales pitch.

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A couple of times

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I decided there were no point letting all them other bakeries pause, go to waste.

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My gut was stuffed solid and brushed against my FET locks.

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I'll taste it apples.

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Every time I took a breath.

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Tomorrow would be a different story.

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My belly BMT my chest and flanks and rear be even for.

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Uh, smiled at the thought I'm a smile had to push back fat chicks.

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Course it's growing.

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Finish your cider.

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He knocked back the last of his mug.

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He belched blushed pulling his hat down and embarrassment.

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Well, cousin.

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You can't tell ponies big Mac eats at sweet apple acres.

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If no pony knows who big Mac is.

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. I'm saying.

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Bone has got to see if you want them to keep buying.

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How are you going to keep it up?

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I slid another mug aside or over to Braeburn and pushed an apple pie, Adam.

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Franchising.

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His eyes slid in and out of focus.

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He looked down at the PI.

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And up and me and then around all of me.

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Ooh.

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Last I heard from Braeburn.

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He'd gone up another vest size.

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This was red.

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Delicious.

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Bye buddy.

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Good boy.

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Red for you by cocky.

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You're faithful, fireside companion.

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You can find more stories on the web at the voice dog, dog.

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Or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening.

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @khakidoggy on Twitter and Telegram, and khakidoggy@me.com by e-mail.

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