The Confectioner's Conscience
The heat of the midday sun baked the Ponyville streets, challenging the air conditioning units to keep up as a battle was waged over the temperatures. All that was heard of this battle was a constant hum as the air conditioning units and fans were set upon the goal of eliminating the heat. Two ponies stood in the warmly colored kitchen of the local bakery at Sugarcube Corner and talked in quiet, gentle tones.
"What do you think, Cupcake? I know you must feel the same way like I do." The unicorn said as he looked into the eyes of the earth pony, trying to study her expressions. He hoped that her expressions would say what she would not.
"Joe, I'm sorry but," Mrs. Cake broke off as she couldn't finish her sentence.
"Cup, don't you remember how we were? Before?"
"I do, but that too was long ago."
"I know you still care!" Joe said, as he looked into her eyes. Mrs. Cake looked away and found her gaze set upon the ticking clock that hung above the sink, which showed the time as four-thirty. Joe broke the silence, "How long till he comes back?"
"Oh, I suppose he should be back from the delivery around eight."
"Would he…suspect anything?"
"No, why would he?"
Joe knew there had to be some emotions that she hid away. He told her to wait for him, but she went and got married before he came back for her. It was just a setback. He knew she still loved him. Joe just needed to remind her of that fact.
As he approached Mrs. Cake, Joe said in a passionate voice, "I don't know what will happen, but I do know this; I love-"
The pink door that separated the kitchen and the serving area creaked open.
Mrs. Cake and Joe jumped and looked at Mr. Cake as he walked through the door. Mr. Cake looked at the surprised looks of his trusted wife and friend, and stopped in his tracks. The room was silent, save for the hum of the air conditioning units.
Mr. Cake looked at Joe and waited for him to finish his sentence.
As Mr. Cake stared at Joe with a face that was absent of any noticeable emotion, Mrs. Cake spoke up, "Hello, honey buns…You…You're home early!"
Mr. Cake continued staring at Joe as if he didn't hear his wife. "Hello, Joe! I didn't mean to intrude… please continue", he said in an obviously confused tone.
"…I-I would just love to get that recipe from you, Mrs. Cake!" Joe said, lying with a fake chuckle as he looked to Mrs. Cake for a second, before quickly looking back to Mr. Cake.
There was another long moment that was bare of any dialogue.
"Which recipe, Joe?"
Joe spoke up, "The…The-" His mind was blank. Why did that matter to Mr. Cake? Why was he already home?
Mrs. Cake quickly intervened and said, "The frosting recipe! I told him it was a secret though…", chuckling as well in vain attempt to lighten the tense feeling that loomed above them. She quickly added in, "I mean, I was going to tell him, but then you walked in!"
Mr. Cake lowered his green saddlebags, but kept his eyes on his friend.
"That’s nice, but I highly doubt you'd come all the way here for that, Joe…" As Mr. Cake relaxed his tense muscles, the mood lightened in the room. Mrs. Cake and Joe both sighed a breath of relief.
Joe continued to elaborate upon his story. "No, Carrot. I actually was in town and…ah, thought to drop by to see you and the guys…" Joe's stale smile remained plastered on his face, despite the blank look he still was receiving from Mr. Cake. "You know…Stallion's Night Out?"
Mr. Cake repeated, "Stallion's Night Out…", slowly as if he was placed in a trance at a hypnotist's show.
"Yeah…" Joe responded. The way Joe and Mr. Cake replied to each other was reminiscent of a play where the leading cast forgot their lines.
As if remembering what the next line was supposed to be, Mr. Cake spoke up. "Stallion's Night Out! Yeah, Joe, that's tonight actually. You know you're always invited. Yeah….Tonight we're going bowling. We should get going if we want to be on time…yeah, wouldn't want to be late, would we?"
Joe knew Carrot Cake. He never acted like this. Something was wrong.
He couldn't of known. Mr. Cake was letting him off the hook too easily for somebody that knew anything. With that thought, Joe followed Mr. Cake outside, oblivious to the look of worry on Mrs. Cake's face.
The heat of the day slowly began to lose the battle, giving way to a cool breeze that carried scattered leaves along with it over the cobblestones in the streets. The sun sat content near the western horizon. Carrot Cake and Donut Joe walked toward the bowling alley.
"So, Carrot, is everypony there already?"
"Where?"
"The bowling alley?"
"Oh, the bowling alley," Mr. Cake said aloud. He slowly stopped walking and said, "No, that doesn't begin for another two hours."
The road to the bowling alley stretched into the distance. Joe looked around. They were alone. Nopony else shared the sun baked streets that they walked upon. They were two hours ahead of schedule.
"Hey, I know a good shortcut, which will get us there in half the time!" Mr. Cake said as he looked toward the alternate route; a dark alleyway that would have screamed murder to anypony that passed by. Carrot Cake noticed Joe's distraught look and then added, "What, Joe? Don't you want extra practice at bowling? You look like I caught you stealing a cookie from the cookie jar…"
Joe stated, "If we're early, shouldn't we be taking the scenic route?"
To this he received no reply.
There was a chance that he knew. Who was he kidding? Mr. Cake must have stood there and heard more incriminating dialogue before walking in! He just wanted to find out if Joe would admit to it, and so to speak, eat humble pie! Mr. Cake could see through his lies all along. He imagined what it was like to lie to Mr. Cake now. It was like a hopeless filly pleading for her parents to believe that she didn't eat the cake, while asking them to disregard the frosting around her mouth. There was no way around it, and the punishment he feared would obviously be much greater than being grounded for a month.
"Come on Joe," Mr. Cake started for the alley.
Joe shook his head. Mr. Cake couldn't have known. There was no way he would of gone to this length otherwise. Maybe he did know…No. No, Mr. Cake didn't know, but Joe didn't want to give Mr. Cake the opportunity to prove him wrong.
"…you wouldn't mind a quick detour would you?" Joe quickly said in a voice that was almost a yell.
Mr. Cake turned around. "What, Joe?"
"Ah, lets…go to-" Joe looked around and spotted a flier posted on a wall; his savior for the moment. "- go to the fair? Wait around a bit before the other guys show up, you know?"
"Go to the fair?" Mr. Cake laughed, "Two stallions going together might be a funny sight to some folks around here. No worries though. These folks know I wouldn't cheat on my wife…"
As Mr. Cake finished the ill-timed joke, he gave a haunting smirk and then looked at the clock tower nearby. "Sure, we've got time to kill."
Joe wiped the sweat from his brow. The fairgrounds was the safer option. There would be a lot of ponies there, unlike the road to the bowling alley. Mr. Cake wouldn't be able to do anything to him if there were any witnesses.
Mr. Cake began to hum a tune which shared it's mood with a funeral procession.
Donut Joe looked doubtfully at Mr. Cake and then toward the carnival on the edge of town. It stood against the sky like a cardboard cutout and was lit up as if by a million candles. Fragments of a carnival tune were heard in sporadic wisps of wind, playing from a lone calliope that battled to be heard above the constant chatter of the crowds nearby.
He needed to find out what Mr. Cake knew. Then, and only then, he would know if there even was a reason to worry in the first place. Joe started to feel optimism seep back into his cold veins. The smile that his friend had still worried him. Why would Mr. Cake be so happy? Did he hide something that was Joe didn't know?
They arrived at the fairgrounds and waded through the unending crowd of ponies; fighting to swim through the masses which loitered around the entrance. It was as if the crowd had entered the doldrums of a sea of molasses with the only intent of being a hindrance to their path. Joe thought to slip away, blaming the crowd for causing the separation, but they both reached the entrance of the circus.
"That'll be five bits," the apathetic colt in the ticket booth sighed as he dully looked down to the counter, no doubt thinking of all the places he would rather be then the cramped ticket booth.
Joe felt that this was his chance to get away. He spoke up. "Hey, Carrot. Looks like I'm all outta dough."
Mr. Cake looked back and said, "Oh don't worry Joe. I'll cover you. I have enough." With that, five more gold bits clattered onto the ticket booth's counter.
In a monotonous tone, the ticket seller mumbled, "Thank you for visiting. Please come again" , as he watched the two enter. As far as the ticker seller was concerned, he wasn't paid enough to do this job and deal with the tedious repetitions of it all.
The fairgrounds felt disturbingly dreadful, despite the welcoming sights and sounds slicing through the air. The strong smell of licorice candies wafted by from a stall nearby a cotton candy vendor. The yells of fillies and colts were heard over the carnival tunes as they played a game of "kick the can" with a rusted tin can that they found near the entrance. The yells drove Joe's imagination to terrifying thoughts involving turning and finding Carrot Cake wielding a knife. Popcorn kernels sizzled and popped during a tormenting transformation from the heat of an open flame.
As the two stallions walked further into the fairgrounds, Mr. Cake yelled that he would be right back and then ran to a stall. Something obviously had caught his eye. Joe looked at the stall that Mr. Cake ran to. The red and white sign, "Mar's Firing Range", was painted in cursive and flashed with vintage lights that danced around the letters in a clockwise rotation, in the same fashion that it always did in an attempt to lure in customers.
Joe looked at Mr. Cake pick up an air soft rifle with his front hooves, then looked at the surrounding booths and rides. There was a balloon booth, another cotton candy stall, and a fortune teller's tent. The last of these caught his attention. This one was called, "Madame Fortuna's Fortunes". He looked around and questioned if he really believed the fortunes that ponies gave anyway. As he wondered about the reliability of the fortunes in fortune cookies, he trotted over to the tent and pulled out two of the bits that he claimed he didn't have any of earlier. A faint cracking sound filled the air for a second. Joe looked down and watched a small chipped rock settle back onto the rocky path.
"Sir, please don't shoot directly at the other ponies passing by."
Joe quickly looked back to Mr. Cake and the booth attendant of the shooting gallery, which continued to talk amongst themselves as if nothing happened. Was the shot imagined? Well, was the chipped stone imagined? Joe studied the stone and then looked eagerly at the suspects, hoping to hear the attendant still scolding Mr. Cake for the event, but all he saw was Mr. Cake trotting back with a prize wrapped up in a bag that was on his back.
"Told you it wouldn't be too long!" said Mr. Cake, as if he in fact only took a minute.
Maybe it was just a minute, but it felt like an hour for Joe as he stood there.
The sun was now dropping behind the mountain range. The sunlight began to wither away as the night's grasp slowly choked out the blue sky, leaving the blood red sunset behind. Mr. Cake must have noticed what he was trying to do back at Sugarcube Corner. How could he of missed it? There was a chance he did though… He would of acted already if he knew anything…Joe stole a glance toward Mr. Cake. His friend lead him on to some undisclosed location, as if trying to entice him to pursue a slice of poisoned red velvet cake, which was just around the corner. It was a confectioner's sweet revenge. How else could he explain the smug look upon Mr. Cake as he walked toward the fairgrounds?
The smug look that belonged to Mr. Cake melted into the form of a concerned frown as if it was on a face of wax that was too close to a candle. "So, I've heard you-"
"Cutie Mark Crusaders Circus Performers!" The last half of Mr. Cakes' comment was drowned out by the unanimous yell of a few delighted fillies as they ran towards the circus event that was beginning. Joe looked up at Mr. Cake, which didn't seem to notice that the last sentence he uttered was in vain. He panicked as he saw the serious face of Carrot Cake that stared back at him. The searching stare Mr. Cake gave shattered his thoughts, making it impossible to think. If it was a joke, Joe would have been able to laugh along even without hearing it, but he knew this wasn't a joke. Mr. Cake wanted an answer. Joe hesitated, fruitlessly hoping to buy himself a few more seconds to think.
"So is it true then, Joe?"
"I…uh," Joe's heart began to race as if it were trying to escape from the doomed stallion's body. There was no savior, no thoughts to be conjured up. His mind was blank yet raced in all directions in search for the unknown answer. He broke away from the unforgiving eye contact, hoping in vain that there was an answer somewhere. His eyes darted toward each carnival sign, as if hoping to find an answer lying on top of one of the tents.
The speakers near the circus tent broke the tense silence, causing both stallions looked toward the announcer. "Good evening fillies and gentlecolts. We welcome you to join us for tonight's events, where you'll witness the most awe-inspiring and exciting circus performing troupes from around Equestria and the mysterious lands beyond! You'll find yourself spellbound-"
The rest of the message faded into the approaching night as Joe noticed his companion begin to move. Carrot Cake looked at Joe with a smirk. "Joe, I'm sure that show's to die for!"
"Hey, uh I'm sure the guys are wondering what's keepin' us? We should-"
"Oh nonsense ,Joe, I'm not leaving till I use up my last two tickets." Mr. Cake walked towards the circus tent. Joe trudged along slowly behind, wearing a fake smile to play along with Carrot's game of deception. Why should Joe act like he's hiding something? That would make it more obvious.
The announcer's message then finished, elaborating on the last phrase, "…The performance begins, in only ten minutes!"
The two stallions abruptly stopped. Ten minutes lingered above them like a thick fog, hiding the safety of the crowds as it would a lighthouse in a storm. A different thought entered each stallions mind as they realized what that meant. Almost simultaneously, Mr. Cake smiled as Joe frowned. Carrot Cake suddenly spun around to speak, causing Joe to jump. Joe quickly pretended he was swatting at a fly then looked up at his companion.
"Hey Joe, with ten minutes to stab at, we'd have enough time to tear through the house of mirrors! I loved that ride when I was younger." Joe looked at Carrot Cake raise his front right leg toward the house of mirrors, which was yards away as if it magically appeared there by his wishes. Of course the house was there already, but Joe paid it no heed until now. There was no pony in line to Joe's dismay. In fact, Joe did not see another pony in sight.
If Joe went in there, it would be his demise. The ride was empty, and the mirrors would make it impossible to escape the confines of the ride quickly. This must have been Mr. Cakes plan all along! The husband would get the interloper alone and get rid of him. Joe was the unwanted ingredient for the recipe of life that Mr. Cake tried so hard to achieve, and in a matter of moments he would be removed.
"You coming Joe?" Mr. Cake looked back at Joe. It sounded like a question, but Joe knew there was only one option. His forced his legs into a slow, unsteady motion as he approached the line's entrance. His legs betrayed him as he found himself moving closer to the ride and pony that he wanted to be the farthest away from.
Mr. Cake was already in the house of mirrors.
"What a stupid ride," Joe thought aloud, "Why…why waste your time in a room with m-mirrors!"
He could run. Mr. Cake wasn't in sight anymore! He could put this nightmare safely behind him, but he knew if he did though, Mr. Cake would know something was wrong. If he did go in he would have a chance, small as it may be, to survive with his reputation and secrets intact. That was the issue though... He would have to survive the house of mirrors.
"Excuse me sir…" The ticket taker stared at him with a look of dreary boredom. Joe looked closer. No, that wasn't boredom…There was a small smirk on the colt's face. It must have been!
"Sir, the ride will close in a few minutes…Last chance to get in…" The confused ticket taker said again, in an attempt to stop the strange stallion from staring at his face.
Was that all? He was confused? No. No he wasn't. He was stifling laughter, wasn't he! Joe felt like screaming in the colt's face, "What is wrong with you! Can't you see I'm being led to slaughter and you are doing nothing to help?" With a trembling hoof he gave the ticket taker one ticket for admission, while holding his thoughts to himself.
The ride was too dark. Even a candle would have been more comforting to Joe then the dim electric lights placed at random in the maze. He looked around in an attempt to spot Mr. Cake, but instead Joe found himself lost in a sea of his own worried reflections. He stood near the entrance, seeing his guilty face at every angle staring back at him.
"Hey, Joe, hurry up!" Mr. Cake's voice swooped down over the mirrors and towards Joe.
This wasn't like Joe had imagined. He thought there would be a dull room with three or four mirrors which changed their height or width, but instead he stared toward a pathway built of mirrors. Joe walked in a straight line to follow the path, then walked into a mirror. There never was a path that led straight to the exit.
Mr. Cake and his double stood in front of Joe. They both looked away from him and faced different directions themselves. Joe thought to call out to them, but then hushed himself. Sneaking upon Mr. Cake was better than giving away his position. The doppelgangers in the mirrors continued to search for Joe.
Joe turned left and bumped into another mirror. Both Mr. Cake and his double looked away and both said, "Oh, there you are, Joe!" and trotted out of view.
Mr. Cake was coming for him.
As he picked up his pace, Joe found himself bumping into more and more mirrors. He was drowning in a sea of his own scared reflections. Every direction he turned, he ran into his own disapproving frown.
" Whoops! I dropped my sword! There we go, I've got it." The disembodied voice of Carrot Cake carried through the reflective glass prison. The cheer in the voice of his friend made Joe tremble.
Joe stopped in his path. His heart clashed like warring drums. If he didn't continue on, then…yes! The ride was closing, so the attendant would come through and escort them out of the ride! Did the circus work like that? Joe continued thinking to himself, and quickly reflected on what Carrot Cake previously said. Carrot said he had a sword.
"It's funny, these mirrors can be so misleading, but so revealing too. Wouldn't you agree, Joe?" Mr. Cake's voice sounded from the left. Joe spun around, and only found his own reflection. Mr. Cake was playing with him, such as a cat would with a mouse that it had already caught. He wasn't safe staying in one spot. Joe plunged further into the maze of his own terrified reflections.
It was quiet for some time. All Joe heard was the sounds of his own hoofs hitting the concrete.
The voice of Mr. Cake cascaded through the sea of reflective ice. "I'm sure you put those reckless days at culinary school behind you. The truth is, Joe, I never have!" There was a loud thud nearby. Joe thought he felt the ground tremble as well. A second later, Mr. Cake spoke up again, "Wow, Its harder to get behind these mirrors then I remembered! Oh well…"
If there was any doubt before, the last statement proved Joe to be correct. His friend, Carrot, was a threat to his life. What else could he possibly mean by what he said? What other reason is there to get behind the mirrors? It was because he wanted to kill Joe.
Joe wanted to yell for help. He couldn't. That would give his position away. His friend was going to kill him.
He needed to tell the truth.
Joe changed his mind again. He would take that secret to the grave if he had to. Besides, what good would that do?
There was a last resort. He needed to defend himself.
"Hey, Joe! Speak up!"
He didn't want to die. He just wanted to return to Canterlot and continue running his donut shop. Memories of his little donut shop and his home weaved their way into his mind like a remembered dream that was forgotten upon awakening. He wanted to see another Canterlot sunrise which he stopped caring about years ago. He wanted to live. It was unfair of Carrot Cake to rob him of this.
"Joe, I know your still here. I see you every now and then! Something wrong?"
Why did he have to come here and leave all that he loved behind! He should have known how smart Carrot Cake was! Mr. Cake knew since the beginning. It was sheer foolishness that shielded him from finding out sooner. Maybe Mrs. Cake…Joe shook his head. All of that didn't really matter now. He knew what had to be done.
"I'll find you sooner or later, Joe!"
He would have to kill Carrot Cake.
The hunter was now the hunted. Joe scrambled with nervous energy through the maze of mirrors. His heart pounded loudly to the point he was sure that it would give his position away. He rebounded as he scrambled into another mirror, this one cracking on impact. Yes, he was going to kill one of his closest friends. He didn't want to! It was only in self defense! Mr. Cake was already trying to kill him!
Joe stopped. Could he really kill his friend?
"There you are, Joe!"
Joe looked straight ahead toward the voice. It was Mr. Cake, which held his sword in his mouth. If Joe caught him unexpectedly, maybe he could use his horn to his advantage. Yes! As a spear!
Mr. Cake stood perfectly still ahead of him.
Joe charged. The sound of his hooves hitting the floor became louder and louder. Mirrors sped past him in his peripheral vision. He was just a few feet away. Joe lowered his head as he reached Mr. Cake. Another Donut Joe appeared in front of Carrot Cake's image. They collided.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside of the house of mirrors, Mr. Cake watched as his unconscious friend, Joe, disappeared in a white flash along with a nurse that was headed to the local hospital.
"What happened?" The ticket taker asked, as the crowd that surrounded the scene slowly left to leave the park.
"I don't know," answered Mr. Cake, "I think he was nervous about something. Maybe business in Canterlot wasn't doing so well.
"Huh, I never thought that would happen."
"I asked him if it was true earlier, but I didn't get an answer from him." Mr. Cake said, but he started to wonder if there was something more that Joe was hiding. Who would really go to a different city to learn how to make something as simple as frosting anyway? He thought ask to his wife at a later time.
"He must have left his stuff." The young stallion said as he looked down at the toy sword that was now on the floor.
"No, Sir. That was a prize I won earlier today."
"Oh. If I were you I wouldn't worry too much. The nurse said he only had a concussion. He'll recover." With that the young ticket taker walked away.
Mr. Cake sat outside of the park and looked at the stars in the night sky. They reminded him of an assortment of sprinkles and nuts that he would place on top of the desserts he and his wife sold. As the rides slowly began to shut off, to the dismay of those still at the park, he sat there oblivious to what had happened. Any past relationships, hatred, and fear that covered Joe's day in dread went mostly unnoticed. Mr. Cake was not aware that his friend would realize and come to regret what had happened that day. The day that Joe had contemplated to kill his friend because of his own guilty conscience.
Carrot Cake got up and trotted home.
