Dessert Duel [Twilight Sparkle + Octavia]
Author's Note
A suggestion from my dear Princess Blackjack (aka residentmaria).
Security: Octavia and Twilight, pudding eating contest.
Strafewise: I... sorta want to do th-THAT ONE.
Strafewise: OCTY AND TWI
Strafewise: AND PUDDING
...yep. We're easily amused.
Don't forget to submit your suggestions here through a direct message, comment on this story or email strafewise <@> gmail.com .
And do please leave some feedback while you're here. These are about me improving my skills and staying motivated to write.
~strafe
Dessert Duel [Twilight Sparkle + Octavia]
Cold. Sliiiimey. Unequivocally unappetizing.
Each moment Octavia stared at the so-called “dessert’ in front of her, the more her stomach began to rumble. That sick, uneasy rumbling after you’ve eaten too much, or, in Octavia’s case, nothing for the better part of two days.
Not by choice, mind you. No, not at all. She would much rather have her usual from the Dandelion Diner in Trottingham… a number two (dandelion and alfalfa, naturally) with ice water (and only two cubes!).
But no! Instead, the poor Earth mare was shoehorned into this… barbaric event!
A pudding eating contest. After all, it was tradition. Trottingham and Ponyville were founded by the same family, and as a way to commemorate both the cities’ founding and their family reunion, the “Carnival of Confections” was born.
She’d managed to avoid the event entirely for the past five years or so, always managing to slip off to Canterlot with her longtime roommate, the infamous DJ-PON3. Though the circumstances were still not as ideal as a dandelion sandwich and a nice book, their excursions usually did beat out stuffing oneself to the point of sickness for no real gain.
Normally, she would politely decline, give some off-hoof excuse about her cello needing a wax or… well, anything else in the world! But alas, it was her quartet that put her up to it, and she’d drawn the short straw. Ivory Keys, the beige piano stallion, had already clinched the punch-drinking portion, while Golden Strings, the deep blue harpist stallion, barely missed the Donut-Hole Devouring by a mere two morsels! The spot normally taken by Trumpet Song, a petite aqua blue mare that could eat for a week and not be full, was vacant.
Which left it all up to her.
“Remind me again… why do I have to eat this...yeeech… slop?” she grumbled bitterly, as confectionary ponies bustled around her to lay places for the contestants.
“B-Becau-*hic*-se…” Ivory slurred, apparently still trying to cope with the effects of three and a half quarts of Pinkie Pie’s Positively Powerful Pink Punch lite* “Trumpet… Trum-pet Song… is sick… l-look, Tav’... you’re the only one who can *hic* do *hic* this! We can’t lose to Pony*hic*ville again!” It was almost painful to watch the usually refined, dapper even, stallion stumbling around like some common drunkard.
“Oh, alright! Just… go lie down before you hurt something… Last thing I need is to try and find a replacement for next week’s recital. Just… Just go!” she snorted, pointing a hoof over to the med tent, where nursemares were eagerly doting over the rather unfortunate contestants. Most were simply suffering from gorging themselves, but few, like Ivory, required more attention.
“Allllllllllll-riiiiiiiight~! Who’s ready to do this thing?!” came the high-pitched squeal of an exceptionally enthusiastic Pinkie Pie, magnified at least tenfold by the PA speakers that dotted the surrounding tents and exhibits.
“Oh, Pinkie! I haven’t eaten a thing today! I know my reference books said not to compete with a completely empty stomach…” replied one contestant, approaching from stage right.
Twilight Sparkle.
“But honestly, it was no sweat beating the Trottingham Orchestra last year. I’m confident we can do it again!”
“Oho, really, now?!” Octavia snapped, glaring at the purple mare, before quickly splaying her ears and looking quite embarrassed. “I-I mean… We’ll see about that, Miss Ponyville Community Choir!” she gave a weak chuckle, trying her best to appear sporting, despite her mental, and physical, turmoil. If this took any longer, Octavia would have enough time to escape.
“O-Oh, well, uh… May the... best mare win?” the unicorn smiled nervously, offering her hoof.
More out of shame for her outburst than a true appreciation for competition, Octavia shook hooves lightly, before seating herself next to the… main course.
Did it just move? Oh Celestia, I think it did!
“Woooo! Go, Tavi’! Kick her flank, yeeeeeeah!” came a shout from the audience, from a very distinctive unicorn. Blue-streaked mane bounced wildly as she whooped it up, causing the grey mare all the more distress.
Thank you, Vinyl. Just the encouragement I needed, she thought, shutting her eyes. It’s bad enough I have to choke this down with an audience. I don’t need everyone to forever associate me with such an uncouth activity.
“Threeeeee!”
“Twooooo!”
“Ooooonnneeeeeee~!”
“Waaaaaaaiiiiit!”
Both ponies flinched in anticipation, the unicorn accidentally flinging her levitated spoon into the crowd.
“Uh… whoops?” she squeaked, catching it a mere inch from nailing Spike in the back of his head. Of course, he was rather preoccupied with Rarity, who, despite her typical demeanor, was here to cheer Ponyville on all the same.
“Now, now, Twilight… It wouldn’t fair for you to use magic, since Miss Cellopants doesn’t have magic, too.” the pink pony adopted a rather serious tone, frowning at her friend. Octavia idly wondered why she was even in charge when one of her friends was a contestant, but that concern was quickly pushed aside!
“Excuse me?! I nev-”
“You’re right, Pinkie. I won’t use my magic. Hooves only!” the purple mare agreed, flexing her forehooves in a show of agreement.
“My name is Octavi-”
“Alright! Let’s try this again! On your maaaaaaarrrrk!"
Both mares leaned over their bowls, each heaped with yet another of the pink party-mare’s creations, Chocolate-Caramel-Cotton-Candy-Candy-Corn-Custard. True to its name, the mixture contained pieces of each one of its namesakes, turning it a rather unfortunate purple-grey-brown-ish color.
Octavia’s stomach turned. Again.
“Get seeeeeeeeeeeeeet!”
Trembling hooves slid to the edges of their respective bowls, holding the slick glass containers as firmly as possible. At least it’s only one bowl… I can’t imagine an endurance event!
“GO!”
Both contestants lifted the bowls to their lips and began chowing away, flecks of pudding splattering as they prioritised speed over cleanliness.
I could've been First Chair of the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra… Octavia thought wistfully, as she fought her way through the chewy caramel and waxy chunks of candy corn pieces. She’d certainly have to see Colgate about the cavities she could feel forming with every hyper-sugared bite.
I could've done something…
