Two figures stepped through the Cellar door… Flim and Flam. Flam was armed with a revolver, Flim had a squirming burlap sack and a sturdy club in hand. The muffled sounds coming from the sack betrayed it’s contents: Applebloom was in there.

Their sunken, baggy eyes suggested that their most recent scheme had not only backfired, but had robbed them of their sanity.

Flam aimed his revolver at the bag and cocked the hammer. Applejack and Granny Smith, with all their vampiric might, would not let any harm come to applebloom. So they stayed still as Flim dropped the club, tore granny smith’s nightgown off, and bound them both.

“Where’s the old fart?” Flim asked, tightening the ropes around Applejack’s breasts. She said nothing. Granny Smith just scowled.

“And who’s this? One of your far off cousins come to save your rotting farm?” Flim slipped closer to Granny Smith. “What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked…

“The Grim Reaper.” she replied, coaxing laughter from the brothers.

“Sweetheart, you have that backwards.” Flim said. “Flam and I have come to make you, your cousin, and your sniveling brat disappear after we’ve had our fun with you.” he forcefully squeezed her breast. If Applebloom weren’t in no danger, she’d turn this low-hangin’ fruit-suckin’ snake into a new nightgown!

In the corner of Applejack’s eye, she saw something move beyond the door and her sharpened hearing picked up a faint squeak on the other side… she smiled, secretly weakening the ropes on her wrists.

“Hate to interrupt ya’ll.” Applejack interjected. “But ah think ya got too excited to really plan this out…”

Flim stopped himself in the process of slipping Granny’s panties off, having jerked them down to her knees. He stood in front of Applejack and gripped her chin, forcing her eye contact.

“The brothers Flim and Flam plan everything, down to the last bolt, nut, and wire.” Flam said, keeping his gun aimed at the squirming bagged Applebloom.

“Ya’ll wanna go over yer plan one mo’ ‘gain since we’re all gon’ be dead anyway?” Applejack asked.

Flim grinned, picking up his club, putting it against the side of her head.

“You and your family are going to disappear, no trace, and this farm goes up for sale. Sweet apple acres becomes our own cider factory…” Flim said, sucking air through his teeth, hand trembling, tapping the club against her head. “Then everything will be… just… FINE!” he babbled, eyes widening with his grin.

“Uh huh… sounds airtight except ya’ll forgot one tiny detail.” applejack said, widening her own grin.

———-

We’re back with more parts.