"Dominated, hippie! Get a job!" "You better hope there's hacky-sack in Hell, hippie!" "You are now a conscientious objector to being dead, hippie!" "What's the matter, hippie? Hair get in your eyes?" "Get a haircut, hippie." "You're a disgrace to the uniform."
When she was knee deep in trench warfare, there was a pony who always had her back named Garron. Despite being able to grind through entire enemy platoons by herself, smash through the armour plating on a tank with a single buck and possess an immunity to lung diseases caused by smoking thick cigars due to smoking so much of them that her body is de-sensitized to the damage smoke causes, she always felt safer knowing she was partnered with him.
Garron was a gambler back home. A celebrity gambler no less. The Jack and the Heart were his two favourite cards, he carried them into battle as a good luck charm and as a reminder of better days back home.
Some say Granny Smith and Garron had a special fondness to eachother...
But then he took a bullet to the knee, he went down in the battle of St.Valentia. He died in Smith's arms (or...forelegs...whatever.), which invoked a bitter rage in her. She closed his eyes, took the two cards to remember him by, and proceeded to direct her fury at the enemy.
The war was over within 5 minutes of Garron's death.
If picking apples is sure to result in victory, then you must pick! Granny Smith said that. And I'd say she knows a little bit more about picking than you do, pal, BECAUSE SHE INVENTED IT! And then she perfected it so that no living pony could best her during harvest! Then she used her profit money to buy 2 of every apple on earth, herded them on to a boat, then she ate the crap out of every single one! And from that day foreward anytime a group of apples are in the same place it's called an orchard! Unless it's a grocery store.