It's so tasty and shapely. I especially love the topping.
Sugarcube Corner was busy in the late afternoon from the rush of customers stopping by on their way home after work. Twilight Sparkle had expected as much, but the line for the confectionary stood a few feet out the door. Even at its busiest there were only four or five ponies idling around the glass cases drooling over which particularly delicious delight in which to partake, and yet, there must be twenty or more waiting patiently for their turn to browse.
Twilight debated waiting until the evening but worried her favorite pastries would be long-since devoured if she procrastinated. She still had a busy evening of studying ahead; astrology, the art of conjuration, reflective wisdom of the great sages, and a litany of other titles paraded through her mind that needed to be read before she could be afforded the luxury of the warm embrace of her bed. Despite her busy schedule, the unicorn got in line with a soft, resigned sigh.
The line moved quickly and Twilight found herself only a few ponies from the front. Twilight waited patiently and tuned out the gossip of others while she waited. Formulas, queries, and hypotheses danced in her head as the line crept forward.
The confectionary’s selection was always wide but the delicacies rarely altered and so she did little window shopping while waiting her turn, knowing what she would order since breakfast. She did notice, however, a particular pastry proliferating the packages of nearly every patron: a round, stuffed doughnut topped with a fine green powder the color of spring. Intrigued, the unicorn planned to ask about the unknown delight. Despite the typical selection, Mr. and Mrs. Cake routinely supplied a flavor of the day and if this new dessert was the root of this uptick of business, Twilight wanted to try it.
Finally, Twilight’s turn had come and she breached her place at the head of the line to gaze upon the arrangement of goodies. Pinkie Pie smiled at her from behind the register, eagerly awaiting with a sheet of waxed paper.
“Hi, Pinkie,” Twilight greeted her friend warmly but the pink pony didn’t respond immediately. Pinkie only beamed a smile, the blue pools of pristine water of her eyes flickered oddly and her brows hunched as if trying to remember something important. Twilight couldn’t help but notice the hesitation. “You… okay, Pinkie?”
Snapping out of her search, Pinkie nodded emphatically. “Twilight! Of course I’m fine. How are you today? Doing…,” another momentary hesitation, “Twilight things?”
“Uhh… that’s one way to put it, I guess. But, yes, I am busy today. Looks like you are too,” Twilight remarked. Pinkie nodded energetically again and squeezed the wax paper in a way that told Twilight that the pleasantries were over and she needed to choose. “I think I’ll get my usual today but I am interested in this new doughnut everyone seems to be getting. Is it good?”
Pinkie brightened immediately as if a sudden electricity had jolted through her, breaking the natural limits of her hyperactivity. But, for Pinkie, that was normal. “OH! The ultra, fantastic, special, one-of-a-kind, stupendous sensation that is our new matcha green tea crueller?! It’s made of the finest ingredients imported from Neighppon at no extra cost to you, our loyal customers! I’ve had a few today and I think they are the best thing since sliced cookies!”
What an odd explanation, Twilight thought, but dismissed it. More interested in the green stain on Pinkie’s tongue. From the green tea, Twilight surmised. It was dark, almost black and nearly coated her friend’s entire talking appendage.
You know what? Since we’re… friends…,” Pinkie appeared to search for the right word, stumbling in her pitch, “I think I could let you have a sample for free!”
Twilight laughed nervously at the imposition. She expected to hear grumbling coming from the ever increasing line of ponies but was relieved when they continued to talk amongst themselves or stare at the stacked plate of cruellers behind the counter glass. Still, she didn’t intend to incite jealousy. “Oh, Pinkie, you don’t have to do that. I’ll gladly buy it at full price. It does look interesting.”
Pinkie turned her head at an angle like a confused pet, ears stood at attention. She spoke with enthusiasm but in a subdued, flat method that was unlike the party pony, “Okie dokie lokie.” Pinkie began piling the matcha cruellers into a box, emptying the display of the treats.
“Wait, Pinkie! I said, my usual plus one of those. Not just all of that one. It would be rude to take them all before others had a chance to try them,” Twilight stopped Pinkie who looked up dumbly, as if she didn’t understand.
Mr. Cake suddenly appeared with a hot, fresh batch of the cruellers steaming from their powdered green tops. Pinkie indicated, “There’s plenty,” and began to pile again. An annoyed sigh escaped Twilight as Pinkie continued to get her order wrong.
“Pinkie! Be that as it may, I want what I normally get.” The extra business must have been getting to Pinkie, Twilight thought. She was random but this seemed so unlike her.
“Oh… okay. What was that, again?” Pinkie asked, replacing the cruellers in the case atop the fresh ones Mr. Cake had left. Mr. Cake moved quickly and quietly without even an indication of acknowledgement to Twilight, Pinkie, or any other pony.
Flustered, Twilight spelled out with irritation the confections she wanted. Pinkie was being weird and wasting her time. She was ready to be home. Paying quickly and offering only a curt goodbye to her friend, Twilight hurried to leave. She exited Sugarcube Corner in a huff and didn’t perceive the line had grown longer.
Twilight had retired to her library directly after her foray into Sugarcube Corner. She had spent the last several hours attacking the neatly stacked pile of books in her living room. She closed the latest with a loud thwap of its leather binding and suddenly realized how dark it had gotten. Stretching her body as she stood, Twilight closed the curtains over the darkening blues and purples of night. She called for Spike, waited, and was about to call again when she remembered he was in Canterlot for the evening. She would have to meet him at the train station the following afternoon.
Twilight paused at the next window and peered out into the dimming world. Ponies were mulling about here or there, many solitarily heading to their homes. Now and again, she spotted square boxes marked with a cupcake: the insignia of Sugarcube Corner. Perplexed by the ponies, she checked a clock; it was almost 8:15. Sugarcube Corner should have closed over an hour ago. Were there still ponies waiting to be served? Her stomach rumbled in response. She hadn’t been hungry when she returned to the library but a short, sharp shock of hunger crossed her abdomen and she dismissed the oddity.
The box from Sugarcube Corner sat upon her kitchen counter and saliva pooled in her mouth as she approached it like a predator preparing to pounce upon its prey. Opening the lid, Twilight gazed lovingly down at her selection of pastries: a lemon bar, golden, flaky, and mouth wateringly moist; tri-color vanilla cupcake, decadent and piled high with frosting; raspberry cream cake, succulent whole raspberries perched atop a slice of fudge cake with cream frosting and a drizzle of honey, and, of course, the matcha green tea crueller, with its algae color and dusting of powdered tea. It looked plain, uninspired, and, frankly, a little gross.
So many others had been enjoying the crueller and she wondered how such a homely thing could drive so many ponies wild. Taking the pastry in her hoof, she studied it. It was delicately light as if held together by the air itself. She knew little about cruellers but had tried a few in the past; they had always had a slightly nutty taste and were very sweet. Not dense like most doughnuts, she could appreciate the artistry behind them. However, this particular one with the light glaze enveloping its swirled, ridged body would look far more appetizing had the green dust covering the top not been such an ugly, grass-clipping color. It sure didn’t look tasty but, with a shrug, she took a bite.
Bitterness and sweetness vied for control of Twilight’s taste buds in an unholy union of disaster. The saliva instantly caked when it meshed with the tea dust. She breathed and much of the dusting coated her throat as it was carried down towards her lungs. Coughing and sputtering, Twilight spit the chunk of doughnut into the trash and quickly got a drink. A film enveloped her tongue and no amount of water would wash it away. The earthy, moldy flavor nearly gagged her and she quickly tossed the remainder of the pastry into the trash.
“What is wrong with everyone? Yuck!” Twilight commented to herself as she brought the raspberry cream cake out in an attempt to extinguish the bitter, disgusting taste still clinging to her taste buds. She could barely taste the cake, her favorite treat from Sugarcube Corner, over the despicable, algae-like matcha. No longer hungry, or more likely turned off from eating, she decided to continue her studies.
Returning to her reading, Twilight smacked her lips absently; the taste of the dessert floated in her mouth like detritus in a stagnant pond. It was unsettlingly bad, like molded quinoa ground into a fine dust and then rolled in a herd of dustbunnies. For a time, Twilight was able to ignore the distraction but the words of her book became distant or dyslexically difficult to read with the persistence of the fetid flavor. Still she struggled to read the thick volume.
In the 4th age, Canterlotian civilization SUBMIT completely on…
Twilight rubbed her eyes and read the last passage again.
In the 4th age, Caterlotian civilization subsisted completely on...
She needed a drink. Maybe that would cleanse her palate and alleviate the pestering nuisance so she could buckle down and finish her studies. A bottle of hard cider was tucked away in a cabinet far from Spike’s reach. Magically pulling it down from the dark hiding spot in the cupboard, Twilight poured half a cup, paused, and filled the rest to the brim before replacing the bottle. It wasn’t often she indulged herself in the company of alcohol but today had been weird. Spike was away, and the strong liquor would act as a flame to raze the earthy dregs from her mouth; she could indulge today.
Gulping unladylike, Twilight finished half the glass immediately. Her mouth filled with the sweetness of the apple juice and then scorched from the powerful alcohol. Her throat burned as it slid down into her stomach, enveloping in a warm, cozy heat. The taste of alcohol was never her favorite and she typically mixed her drinks to cut back on the savage bite all distilled beverages were accompanied with, but, this time, it was just what she needed. The foul taste of soot, mold, and dust were vanquished.
Twilight paused for a only a moment as she returned to her reading couch to look at the remains of the crueller in the trash. She caught herself staring at it, how it looked as if the matcha had turned a darker green and thickened, growing on the delicate ribs of the pastry. Why, it looked better now than it had at Sugarcube Corner.
Sipping the drink occasionally, Twilight plowed through pages like a moose through a chandelier. She closed the book with a happy sigh that started deep within her body. Satisfaction was unlike any other emotion and she couldn’t help but smile to herself at another job well done. She levitated the next book in the stack, blew some dust from the cover, and read the title.
Delicious! Have some more! A Nighttime Snack!
Her eyes must have played a trick on her and she read it again.
Delinquency of the Mare: A study of Nightmare Moon.
Twilight looked at the title perplexed. The words seemed to shimmer like a holographic card, an amalgam of both titles. She had finished her drink absently and could feel the heat radiating from her stomach. A warm blush filled her cheeks. Maybe she had overdone it on the liquor. Now she was seeing double. It was with sudden disagreement that she perceived the slightest creeping notes of dirt and ashe at the back of her mouth, as if crawling up from her stomach.
“Come on, really?” Twilight stated to herself in frustration. She took her glass back into the kitchen and hurriedly went about filling it again. She wouldn’t be studying anymore tonight. Briefly she questioned the freshness of the dessert if it had such a surviving foulness. She slammed the drink back ungracefully and swallowed hard in thick, heavy gulps. A stream of the liquor poured down her chin and ran along the curve of her chest before dotting the tiles below.
She exhaled the fire from her stomach and took great enjoyment from the consuming alcohol flavor.
As short-lived as it was.
As if in rebellion, the crueller flavor overpowered the liquor. It felt like a coat of wax had engulfed her tongue. Twilight began to feel nervous. Was she food poisoned? She didn’t feel sick but her sense of taste couldn’t really be that off could it?
Deciding to check something, she crossed the living room to the restroom. The lights buzzed almost imperceptibly as she flipped the light switch, a safe background hum. Twilight stood before the mirror and turned her head back and forth as she gazed upon herself. Her eyes were bloodshot, probably from the hard apple cider, and she looked stressed. An unamused sound escaped her. Even if it were just her, there were standards she meant to keep. She smacked her lips from the relentless taste and opened her mouth wide. She stuck her tongue out as far as it would go. It was a vibrant, moldy green. Streaking from the turn of her throat, tendrils of color bent and turned like veins across her tongue, the roof of her mouth, and the inside of her cheeks.
She wanted to shriek as dread peppered her thoughts. Was this a disease? Was she sick? She felt fine but this wasn’t just food coloring altering the pigmentation of her mouth; this was something else.
It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.
The thought felt alien and yet undeniably hers. Maybe she was right, just overreacting because of how strange, and delicious, the flavor of the crueller was. Her stomach rumbled angrily and a wave of nausea broke over her like a tidal wave. The room spun and her vision doubled.
It’s just the liquor. You drank too much.
The words were like honey, sticky and running like a fever dream. She parroted them aloud,“Just drank too much… that’s it.” She felt removed from herself, distant and hollow.
Need to settle my stomach. Eat something.
It was as if she just appeared before the box from Sugarcube Corner. Twilight couldn’t recall leaving the restroom or the walk through the living room; she was just here in an instant. Surely she hadn’t drank…
You’ve drank too much. Eat.
Twilight stared stupidly into the box of her remaining confections; neither the lemon bar nor the vanilla cupcake seemed as appetizing as before.They didn’t satisfy the need growing in her. Her eyes kept turning to the trash can. She would recall them back momentarily only to find herself staring at the trash again. Her stomach rolled like thunder in protest. The disgusting flavor holding her mouth hostage had ceased to taste so awful. It had a playful, refreshing body to it. She needed more.
Delicious. It was delicious.
Twilight shook her head, clearing her mind from the pervasive thoughts. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones, a deep revulsion, a small panic light flickering somewhere in the clogged mechanism of her mind. Her thoughts came slower as if they were strained through a sieve and wrapped in cheesecloth. All the while, her clearest thoughts didn’t seem her own.
“What’s happening? This isn’t right. I… something’s wrong. I need to get help.” Tearing her eyes away from the crueller laying in a nest of refuse, Twilight ran for the door. She needed to get … something. Help. She needed to get help!
It’s okay. Just the liquor. It makes you feel weird. All wobbly. Like when you swim all day and get back on land. You just need to rest. And eat.
Twilight was at the door to the library. She had been at least. She felt something in her mouth being switched from side to side, macerating under her teeth. It tasted so good. She found herself back in the kitchen looking down into the trash. The crueller floated in purple telekinesis inches from her mouth; another large bite had been taken from it. The green dust now looked like algae in a swamp. It may have been moving.
Panic shot through her like a bullet and she spit a wet, olive-green pile out. Tossing the crueller atop the sloppy mess, she bolted for the door once more. Her throat burned in waving lines that led down into the pit of her stomach. Her jaws ached and her tongue felt numb from pain.
“NO!” she shouted, adrenaline coursing her veins and clearing the muddle from her mind. Flinging the door open, Twilight found herself in the familiar but unfamiliar streets on Ponyville. She knew every street by name but, for some reason, couldn’t recall where the hospital was. She kept repeating the word doctor to herself, a kind of chant to keep the mudslide swallowing her thoughts from burying her purpose.
“Doctor… need a doctor.” Twilight stumbled into the street and focused with all of her energy to remember where the hospital was.
Just too much liquor. Go home. Eat. Consume. Delicious! Delicious!
Following her hooves, Twilight fought through the strangely unknown streets. She was confident she was going where she needed to be. Something fell from her mouth, a wad of green, wiggling mass. She didn’t know what it was and didn’t care. Doctor. She needed a doctor. She saw ponies she recognized but their names were lost in haze. They smiled at her, parts of their bodies sported long, hairy green growths. That was fine.
Darkness swept her occasionally and she would see flashes of recognizable locations. She was close to what she needed. More ponies. Green vines like veins.
Delicious! Delicious!
Twilight was waiting patiently in line. All around her were her friends and neighbors. Some were more plant than pony but that was fine. It’s what they needed, what she needed. Her hooves had spots of mold growing on them, spreading like swatches of infection up her forelegs and that was good. The delicious flavor rolled in her mouth and she spit another wad of brackish green algae to the ground. It was her. Just as much as she was. All her friends were her too and she smiled at the thought. It was great to be everypony.
Finally, Twilight’s turn at Sugarcube Corner had come and she didn’t need to tell the Pinkie-her what she wanted. They had the same thoughts. She wanted more of the seedpod crueller. How could she grow big and strong if she didn’t eat enough to reproduce.
“They are delicious, Twilight,” the mold-laced Pinkie-her said.
“Delicious! Delicious!” Twilight agreed.
Author's Note
I was really trying to get this story finished for a contest but, alas, I had to go deal with criminals at work so I missed the deadline. That's life and so is this. It goes on, it grows. Sometimes it takes over everybody you know.
Hope you enjoyed it.
