Battle Start! Pancakes VS. Waffles!!
Ponyville. Stardate, one thousand and… something. Whatever. Present day, I mean. Which is actually, like, twelve-ish years after that show happened, since the last story had a timeskip and everything. Stuff like this is a pain to recount every time a new story begins, know what I mean? I need to remember to keep a ledger of all the stuff I write or somethin’.
Anyway, there it is, Ponyville. See how it glows in the morning light? Okay, not really, but you get the metaphor. In case you’re one of those weirdoes that doesn’t understand what a pun is supposed to be, Ponyville is a village filled with ponies. No-brainer, right? Right. All kinds of ponies live here; big ones, little ones, shiny ones, prissy ones, fat ones, stupid ones, dead ones, and ones that kinda smell like burnt almonds.
Speakin’ of which, I need to remember to turn the oven off when I get home. I think I can hear the neighbors starting to scream.
But anyway, Ponyville happens to be the home of Equestria’s greatest (and only) pancake shop. And it just so happens to be run by the drop-dead gorgeous Dinky Hooves, and her somewhat-equally-gorgeous-in-that-cute-and-awkward-way mother, Derpy Hooves. Mother and daughter business, now, isn’t that just the sweetest thing? All businesses should be run like that.
I mean, Pound and Pumpkin Cake are sorta helping out in their family bakery now and all, but they aren’t in this story, and therefore, they don’t count. Sorry, but them’s the breaks.
So, these pancakes are pretty much selling like hotcakes day in and day out, right? (Hey, see what I did there? Clever, eh? Heh.) Derpy and Dinky make the best team, I swear. But since the Derps is still real protective of Her Little Muffin, it could still be a drag—mainly for the stallions around town and stuff, since Dinky is pretty much the number one sought-after mare in town nowadays. She can’t help being so naturally sexy and all, so it’s not like it’s her fault. Being a famous brekkie shop owner only adds to the deal.
But every time, her mum ends up getting in the way of her and a potential fuckbuddy. And also every time, this turns out to be a good thing, because guys are huge jerks, and girls’d be much better off without ‘em.
I’m actually a guy myself, so it’s not sexist if I say that.
Anyway, all was well and good in the breakfast shop one fine summer day. Dinky and her mum had just finished this one order of jam-filled sweetcakes (they’re like pancakes, except with a slightly-less-than-lethal dosage of sugar in ‘em), and another pony suddenly comes a-burstin’ into the shop. The poor sap looked like he’d been running for a really long time, and for a few minutes he was just standing there at the entrance, dramatically gasping for breath in front of the entire shop like a complete idiot.
But before anyone could tell him to buy something and/or get the fuck out, he blurted, “Everypony, everypony! Come see what’s goin’ on! Something’s happening at the edge of town!”
Not one pony budged an inch.
“There’s this really weird machine-thing, and it’s making big ding-y noises and stuff! Lots of lights, too!”
Still, nopony got their plots off of their chairs.
“…Also, snacks are being provided!”
…Nope, still not budgin’.
“…For free!”
Yep, that did the trick. Everypony in that shop (except for Dinky and the Derps, of course) ran right out the front door, trampling the poor sod still standing there. He was kind of a dumbass for not moving away from the only exit in the building, so, it was his fault anyway that his ‘nads got stepped on twenty-eight times.
Not wanting to be left out of the fun, the dynamically ditzy duo went out the door as well—adding a few more hoofprints to the dumbass’s face as they walked over him—and followed after the rest of the crowd.
Ponyville’s got a pretty small population and all, but it sure as hell ain’t small. Yeah, it took Derpy and Dinky the better half of ten or so minutes just to run to the edge of town. These ponies should wise up and invent cars already or something. That way, I can finally have an excuse to tell stories about them driving really fast around corners and racing each other on the downhill slopes, all the while to the tune of Space Boy or Running in the 90’s…
Sorry. Digressing. Must’ve forgotten to take my meds this morning again.
Anyway, right as the two-strong Hooves Family made it to the edge of town, they saw an incredible sight: a huge, fancy machine! With wheels! And other weird things! And it was SHINY! And as everypony knew, shiny objects demanded all forms of attention. Being that this particular shiny object was also really fucking huge, that rule was applied triple-double-quintuple times.
Of all of the ponies present, only clever Dinky had the sense to ask, “What the hay is that thing?”
And BAM! Right as she said that, a pair of cream-colored stallions popped out from a hatch on the machine like a couple of friggin’ jack-in-the-boxes.
“What a question, fine filly!” one of them said. “A question that makes us feel rather silly, doesn’t it brother?”
“Why, it certainly does! The average pony knows not of the amazing wonders of our new machine, do they brother?”
“That they don’t! ‘Tis a shame, brother! Why don’t we do a little demonstration?”
“A brilliant plan, my brother! Let us show these fillies and gentlecolts what our machine is capable of, shall we?”
“We shall!”
Ponies were shocked! Surprised! Not because their sudden appearance was surprising, no, they could see that crap coming from a mile away; it was because they knew who these jokers were! Those tacky jackets… those tasteless straw hats… the hair that looks suspiciously like bacon… and that one dude’s ‘stache… surely, these had to be THOSE guys!
…Yeah. Um. Those guys.
Uh-huh.
Er.
I totally didn’t forget their names or anything. They’re just so obvious, I don’t even need to say ‘em. That’s it.
Right.
So anyway, like I was saying, these two dudes showed up, and starting talking all bighead-like. Using fancy words, and whatnot. Really poetic, right? You’d almost expect them to break out into a musical number at any second. Oh, but rest assured, there are not going to be any such things in this stor—
~“Well looky what we got here brother o’ mines it’s the same in every town! Ponies with hungry mouths, empty tums, and not a single pastry to be found!”~
…Aaaaaand scratch what I just said. Sorry folks.
~“Well maybe they’re not aware that there’s no need for this teary despair!”~
~“That the key that they need to solve this sad waffle shortage you and I will shaaaaare!”~
~“Well you’ve got op-por-tu-ni-ty, in this very com-mu-ni-ty! He’s Fl—”~
“Hey, wait a second!” a random pony in the crowd suddenly shouted, interrupting the rising ragtime ballad that was beginning to play. “Haven’t we all heard this song and dance before?”
Another pony agreed, adding, “Yeah! They just changed a couple of the words and all that!”
“Isn’t that cheating?” yet another pony saw fit to comment as well.
The two salesponies stopped mid-dance, and suddenly looked a bit pale. “Er… no?” the one with the ‘stache answered, grinning in such a way that he kinda looked like he was constipated or something. “Isn’t that right, brother?”
“Of course it is, brother! No indeed!”
“Well said, brother of mine!”
“Thank you, honest sibling!”
Are these guys a gas or what? And they still wonder why ponies don’t even take them seriously anymore.
But anyway, they soon got their shit together and explained to the good ponies of Ponyville that the big, fancy machine-thing that they brought was called the “Waffle Iron”. They said they would have spent more time coming up with a cool alliterative name like all the others, but seeing as how they were swimming in cash already, they just couldn't be bothered to put in the effort anymore.
But, that only led one pony to question, “What the fuck are waffles?”
But oh, these salesponies had the answer to that! “Why, waffles are only the greatest fried pastry to ever grace the taste buds of ponies across Equestria!”
“Indeed they are, brother! Perhaps you would care to show them what we are rambling on about?”
“What a plan, dear sibling! We shall indeed!”
So, the one guy pushed this switch on the machine, see? And then, out of this nozzle attached to a big tank, poured a bunch of batter that looked oddly similar to pancake batter and stuff, straight into a hinged pan with a couple of moulds inside 'em. When they were all filled-up, the lids of the pan slammed shut.
“And now, captive audience, gaze upon the magic of literary timeskipping as we reopen the pan!”
And so the pans were opened, after an unspoken amount of time, revealing an amazing sight: two flat, rounded pastries! Except that, well, they weren't totally flat; it was full of all kinds of square-shaped pits and stuff. The audience ooh'ed and ahh'ed for a moment, almost as if it was something completely different than anything they already knew about.
One flourish of the two drama-obsessed ponies later, the two mystery pastries were swept up onto a plate, and another nozzle on the machine helpfully provided to them a blast of golden syrup to coat the pastries. For good measure, a tiny block of butter was dropped on top as well.
Sweet filly Luna, it looked AMAZING.
“Behold, fillies and gentlecolts!” the pony with the 'stache declared, holding the completed plate aloft before the enthralled pones. “The extraordinary advent of the Waffle!”
A joyous round of applause rose from the audience! This was clearly the next generation of fried pastries that they were gazing upon!
But for all of the ponies that were awed and amazed, there were a certain two ponies that were not quite as pleased. Why, Dinky was almost beside herself with shock! These waffles were obviously stark competition for her pancakes! This would NOT stand!
“Reminding you of anything, muffin?” dear ol' Derpy pointed out, rolling her mismatched eyes. But Dinky just shrugged it off, not really catching on to her attempt at a callback.
Anyway, these waffles had to have been EVIL! So, being the totally righteous mare that she is, Dinky stood before these two pancake-haters.
“Hey!” she yelled at them, all angry and stuff. “Just what’s so great about these waffles, anyway? How are they better than my pancakes?”
“What a query, fine filly! How slapdash of us to have not elaborated on these critical details first and foremost!”
“Indeed, brother! You see miss, our waffles are not intended to replace your pancakes—perish the thought! We merely seek to offer a far superior alternative!”
“Waffles are the latest and greatest of fried pastries, ma’am! Why, just look at them! The honeycomb-inspired patterns help to keep your precious syrup carefully and safely ensconced, so as not to spill over the edges! You will save both money and precious honey that would be otherwise wasted with a common pancake!”
“Yes ma’am, but that’s not all! Our patented Waffle Iron shapes, cooks, and produces waffles at an incredible pace! All the while NOT sacrificing the taste that pancake lovers have grown to love and admire! In fact, where the pancake suffers from thin and often soggy consistency, the waffle remains strong—rewarding its consumers with a satisfying crunch on the exterior, and yet, with a warm, soft interior!”
“Why, does that not sound just as good, if not better than a common pancake, ma’am?”
Aw man, Dinky kinda had to admit that these guys had a point. And if there even came a cold day in Tartarus, it was when capitalists were making sense. But, wait! Surely, there must have been something that her pancakes were better at!
“Well,” Dinky began to say, “at least—”
“Oh, and did we mention that waffles can come in all the same flavors that a typical pancake can? In addition to countless more?”
“…”
Aaaaaand there went her last chance at victory.
…Well, there is the “secret ingredient of love” bullshit that these kinds of situations always seem to call for, but she wasn’t that desperate for a way out of this.
Come on, Dinky don’t settle for junk like that. Really now. Don’t expect this tale to turn into something that any kid’s TV network would defecate onto the airwaves anytime soon.
Wussies.
So at any rate, it kinda looked like that waffles would come out on top. Apparently, there’s no stopping the rampant spread of technology and modernism. Capitalism is doomed to overtake the peaceful land of Equestria. Lost will soon be the innocence of ponies across this pristine land. All swarmed, crushed and buried, by the oppressive spade of rampant consumerism—
“So whaddaya say, miss? Would you be interested in owning this fine machine, per chance?”
…
Wait, what.
“You… want to sell me that thing?”
“Indeed we do, ma’am.”
“You mean, you weren’t trying to upstage me? Make me look bad in front of Ponyville, and take over my business? Rampant consumerism?!”
“Er… no, we weren’t. What gave you THAT impression?”
“…I have no idea.”
“Hm.”
“…”
“…”
“So… how much cash are we talking?”
“10,000 bits, ma’am. Not including tax.”
“Pfft, spare change. Done deal. It helps already being a big business and all.”
“Indeed it does.”
Well… that happened. Not quite the way I thought it would turn out, but hey, stuff happens, right? Anything could happen in this crazy town.
As far as business went, it turned out pretty good after that. That fancy new Waffle Iron made tons of awesome waffles for Dinky’s shop, and hell, it made her more famous than she already was. Come one, come all, they would say! Why eat corn, when you could be eating pastry today? It was awesome.
But oh, even though Dinky couldn’t quite “win” the pancakes versus waffles debate, she wasn’t too concerned. It wasn’t exactly finished, either. There were ponies that loved pancakes, and hated waffles. There were some that loved waffles, but hated pancakes. And there were the few that liked both. Or hated both.
But you know what, folks? That’s okay. We should all be entitled to what we like and don’t like, right? Right. After all, all of those ponies that like whichever they wanted still visited the shop and bought stuff. Even the ones that didn’t like either of those pastries just bought a muffin.
Or just a package of bubblegum.
Sweet filly Luna, I love bubblegum.
And hey, above all else? Dinky was swimmin’ in dough; both in the literal and metaphorical sense. So she really didn’t give a fuck about what ponies liked or disliked anyway, because “Screw public opinion, I have bits!” And the things that she loved? Pancakes, waffles, her mom, and of course, ruthlessly teasing all the colts that she passed on the street with her dead-sexy bod.
Now we know whose waffle brings the boys to the stable, don’t we?
Problem, pastry-haters?
~END
