Troublemaker

Lottie wasn't a bad kid, she really wasn't. The bloom just got bored easily, that was all. Her neighbor was kind of a prick, as well, so it made it justifiable. 

She'd just finished helping him pick and transport his apples from his orchard to his barn, and even though it had been an enjoyable experience, she thought Mr. Saffron complained too much about her performance for someone merely asking for a favor. 'If you want the job to be that good, how about hiring someone to do it instead of making a kid do it for free?' She had almost said after the pouflon chastised her from dropping an apple. 

"They'll look all wrong and rotten if you drop them!" He'd criticized. Mr. Saffron had also grumbled about how she couldn't hold the basket a certain way, lest she dropped all the fruits to the ground, and how 'kids these days' didn't put their heart into nothing they'd do. She'd just ignored him and said nothing. Charlotte always believed actions spoke a ton more than words, anyways, so she put a plan into action.

The reward for the help she'd offered had been a basket full of apples, so that her mother could make her signature delicious apple pies. The bloom decided to use that for her advantage, of course. 

Lottie's mother always made all kinds of delighful pastries, and all the county of Goldfair could agree. The bloom hadn't inherited her mother's patience and dedication for baking, but she had guts and a lot of energy. As usual, after she was done with all the apple pies, her mother asked Charlotte to deliver them to the neighbors. "Make sure you pass by Mr. Saffron's house first, since he's the one who provided the materials, honey." The grown pouflon had advised. 

"Sure think, mom." Lottie smiled, innocently. That'd be perfect, actually. 

When Lottie arrived at Mr. Saffron's doorstep, she merrily knocked, almost too excited to contain herself. Moments later, he answered, looking grumpy. 

"What is it, little girl?" He huffed. Lottie knew the pouflon probably didn't bother to remember her name, because he always called her 'little girl' and silly nicknames like that. The bloom didn't like it one bit, but she was good at pretending. 

"Hello, Mr. Saffron! I'm just here to deliver an apple pie to you, sir!" The kid grinned, an enormous smile plastered in her face. She uncovered the basket, showing a few pastries. "Just choose the one you'd like, Mr. Saffron." 

He stared at her, a little suspicious because of all the eagerness she exuded, but picked one of the pies and shrugged. When he was about to close the door, Lottie put her little hoof between it and the doorframe, stopping him from shutting it. "By the way, sir, I think I saw a few Blootles nibbling on your pears at the orchard." She commented, casually. 

"Good sir, my fruit! These damn pippets!" He yelped, and almost ran over her in his hurry to reach the orchard. There weren't any pippets eating his fruit, but it was a good distraction - Mr. Saffron thought his orchard to be one of the most important thing ever. Her neighbor had almost dropped the pie in all his haste, but it'd thankfully not fallen. Lottie dropped a good few drops of pepper into the pie, and quickly went on her way - she had more (non-spicy) apple pies to deliver, after all. 

Later, Lottie heard from the living room a very angry and flustered looking Mr. Saffron come knocking on her mother's door, yelling about how she'd tried to 'poison' him with pepper. His mother obviously didn't fall or any of it. "I've heard from Lottie herself that she let you pick the pie you wanted. How could I have foreseen the one you'd pick, Mr. Saffron? None of the other neighbors came to complain." She questioned him, and he couldn't do anything else but angrily sputter, then leave.  

Ah, yes. Another spotless plan was a success.