“What’s that?”  
“A headcount.” Applejack said.  
Flim and flam looked back at each other for a brief moment, the ropes on applejack’s wrists were as weak and loose as a spider’s web under a thumb.  
Flam scoffed. “We’ve taken care of everything. We have you, your cousin, applebloom, Granny Smith is probably dead and Big Mac… well… flim took care of him, right flim?” Flam said.  
Flim’s smug smile faded, and unease set in… it quickly turned to fear.  
“… right?” Flam asked.  
There was a thunderous crash as the wooden door splintered open as a red fist emerged. The red fist stretched open and strangled Flam, slamming the panicking mortal pony against the door itself. In his panic, he dropped his weapon.  
Flim jumped at the sudden commotion, trying to divide his attention between his prisoner and the sudden assailent. When he finally turned his head, the ropes gave way, and in one swift fluid motion she grabbed the shovel next to her and slammed it against Flim, sending him flying into the wall.  
The last thing he saw before passing out was his brother being thrown like a rag doll across the room as Applejack untied the bag and granny smith effortless broke through her bonds.