Just Big Boned

Butter woke to a loud and obnoxious beeping sound. Mumbling softly to himself, he opened his eyes, focusing on the whirling ceiling fan above him. He had a horrible night trying to fall asleep, mostly due to the anxiety of presenting his essay. It didn't help that he was up until 11 trying to get it done. ...This feels familiar...

Shrugging, he sat up and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth again. As he got to the mirror, he grabbed his toothbrush and then gazed at this own reflection. He took notice of his chubby face and sighed. He looked down into the sink for a second before looking back at his reflection again. He quickly shook his head as he gave a more confident expression. "It's fine. Like she said, it doesn't matter if I'm a bit f-fat..." He took his toothbrush and started to brush his teeth. He spit out the gunk inside of his mouth and cleaned his face. "I can change this. I know it."

Butter walked downstairs and noticed that his essay was on the table. He trotted towards it and picked it up gently with his mouth, leaving a bunch of eraser shavings on the table. He placed it within his saddlebag and made his way to the kitchen. He finally sat down and waited for his mother to enter the kitchen. After a few minutes, he could hear hoofsteps. His mother walked in the kitchen slowly, her hair a bit frizzy. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Mmm...You're up early, Butter."

"Couldn't sleep well..." Butter stated simply.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie..." Butter's mom apologized tiresomely. She yawned once more and walked to the coffee machine to brew herself a fresh cup of coffee. "Do you want me to make you some pancakes or waffles or anything for breakfast?"

Butter thought for a moment and asked, "Do you have anything healthy to eat?"

"Something healthy? Any particular reason?"

Butter shrugged. "I have to present my essay. I need my brain food," he lied. He did need to tell his parents about his weight issue, but he wanted to wait. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"Well, would you like a granola bar?"

"That'd be fine. Thanks." Butter's mom looked back at him smiled while Butter just gave a small grin. She walked into the pantry and came back out holding a wrapped oat granola bar with her mouth. She placed it in front of him and cut the wrapper open for her son. "Um...thanks, but I could've opened it by myself."

She giggled and ruffled his mane. "It's no problem. I love to help you, sweetie pie!"

Butter groaned softly as his cheeks turned slightly redder. "I prefer to be independent..." he mumbled under his breath.

His mom overhead him and rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll stop babying youuu..." she pouted. This gave Butter another quiet growl as he started to munch on his bar reluctantly. She snickered as she took a small sip of her coffee. After Butter had finished his granola bar, he stood up and walked towards his saddlebag. "Oh, are you going now, honey?" Butter's mom asked.

Butter turned around and answered, "Yep. I...uh...I want to get to school early."

"Well, alright. Have a good day at school! Oh, and good luck on presenting your essay!"

"Thanks, Mom..." Butter waved goodbye to her and left the house.

He took a few more steps before he heard the door open suddenly as his mother came rushing out towards him. She plopped down a brown sack in front of him and explained, "Sorry! Forgot your lunch!" She giggled and skipped merrily back into the house, shutting the door behind her. Rolling his eyes, Butter picked up the sack in front of him and looked back to make sure her mother was truly gone. He walked a bit faster and made his way to Sugarcube Corner.

After a few minutes of walking (or in Butter's mind pain and misery), he got to the front door, front hooves against the door and peered in through the window. He looked around and saw that the entire place was dark except for the sunlight emanating from the window. He got down back on his four hooves and attempted to try to open it when he felt the door open on its own and knock him down. He let out an "eep!" as he fell on back, dazed over what just happened. He sat up and tried to get a look of who or what knocked him over. He was surprised to see that it was actually a tall, yellow, and quite frankly geeky-looking stallion who was opening the door from the other side. The stallion noticed the poor colt on the ground and gasped. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't notice you there!"

Butter got back on his hooves slowly and told him, "I-It's fine. I actually need something if that's alright Mister...uh..."

"Oh, my name's Mr. Cake," he said. "But if it's an order you want to place, I'm sorry, sport. We're not open today."

"Oh no, I don't need an order. I was just wondering, well, if I could borrow, you know...um...cook something with your oven?" he stuttered.

Mr. Cake's eyebrow rose a bit. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can allow you to do that."

Butter sighed and tried to convince him when he heard a familiar bubbly voice from behind him. "OH MY GOSH, BUTTER! HI!"

"Oh, Celestia, no-HNGGH!" Before he could finish his statement, he was grabbed and cuddled tightly by Pinkie from behind. Curse my slow reflexes...

"Ohmygoshit'sbeenforeversincewe'veseeneachotheranditfeelslikeit'sbeenawholecenturyorevenawholeMILLENIUMand-"

"Pinkie? Do you know him?" asked Mr. Cake.

"Huh? OH YEAH! Mr. Cake, this is the colt I was telling you about! The one who baked those really good cupcakes from yesterday!"

"You are?" He studied Butter for a quick second before stating, "Well, you certainly do look like the cooking type."

"I...uh...thanks...I guess." Was that a weight insult? Pretty sure that was a weight insult... "So...can I...?"

"Well, Pinkie says you're really responsible with an oven. The question is though, what are you planning on making?"

"Um...my dad says I'm not allowed to share his formula with other ponies...but I'm making cupcakes, sir..." Butter felt like this evaluation was getting too professional for his likings.

"And what's your father's name?"

"P-Popcorn Ball..."

Mr. Cake's eyes lit up suddenly like fireworks. "Your father is THE Popcorn Ball?"

"Well...uh...I mean if there's only one Popcorn Ball...y-yes..."

"The pony who serves the princesses?"

Butter nodded. "Apparently."

Mr. Cake let out a girly giggle, which was both funny and yet a little bit unsettling at the same time. "Oh, of course then! Use the ovens whenever you please! And if you could, I would LOVE to talk to your father about his cooking secrets!"

"Well, alright I guess." He let out an uncomfortable giggle as Pinkie let go of him. He picked up his bag once again and made his way to their oven. He turned it on slowly and then made his way into the pantry. He laid his bag down on the floor at reached inside it, pulling out a small white note card. Let's hope to Celestia these cupcakes'll be good...