The Annual Canterlot Bake-off

by Between Lines

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Dinky Hooves, Ms. Harshwhinny, Pinkie Pie, Slice of Life
Length: 2323

For career outcasts like Cupcake and Pandora, any sort of contest can be something of a foregone conclusion. And yet, every year, Cupcake enters the Annual Canterlot Bake-Off in the vain hope she will finally win.

Being the pinnacle culinary achievement for rising bakers, the Annual Canterlot Bake-Off is one of the largest events of its kind. Ponies Equestria-wide come to show off their crafts, eager to prove the supremacy of their art. To many, it is the first step on the road to greatness.

For Cupcake, it is an unending thorn in her side. Every year she has entered, and every year she has lost to lesser chefs simply because they smile and display emotion.

But she'll keep fighting.

Published 2014-11-01 04:00:07 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-01 04:00:07 UTC

And she'll win.

Cupcake’s bakery was hardly the sort of place anypony would associate with the term bakery. Unlike the establishments to either side, painted in such colors as to put a rainbow to shame, Cupcake’s bakery was an assemblage of aluminum siding and steel grate. While it did wonders for maintenance and cleanup, it did little for hoof traffic. The pale, subtle, and understated pastries within did little for clientele either, though they did find themselves appreciated by a small arthouse community that understood the beauty of merely implying flavor.

In short, it truly was Cupcake’s bakery.

Today, Cupcake was at work, as she always was whenever she had vacation time. Between adventures with Pandora, and more adventures with Pandora, it was a rare occasion that she actually got to bake anything at all. As such, whenever she did get the time, it was usually a dusk til dawn affair, Cupcake slaving away over the stove in preparation for the upcoming Canterlot Bake-off. In fact, the only ornamentation that graced her establishment were countless photos of previous winners.

For a moment, she looked up from her Cupcakes to stare at one photo in particular. A small grey unicorn smiled back, a large tray of steaming muffins before her and a medal about her neck. Cupcake’s eyes narrowed, and she began to whisk her batter with the exact same intensity as before. Simmering rage or no, she wouldn’t let it affect her work.

There was a jingle from the front door, and her ears perked attentively. Her mind flicked through the schedules of her clients, and after a moment she let out a sigh. It wasn’t one of her regulars, which could mean only one thing. “Up here, boss.”

“Hey Cupcake.” Pandora slumped her way up the stairs, her usually jaunty bounce completely absent. “I have had the worst day.”

“Something happen, boss?” Cupcake paused her whisking, worry briefly flashing across her face.

“Oh, something happened alright.”

“Don’t worry honey, I’m here for you.” Discord wrapped his arms comfortingly around Pandora, squeezing her tightly. “You can do it.”

“I don’t know, daddy.” She sniffed loudly, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so scared.”

“Be brave for daddy.” He squeezed her a little tighter.

“Oh, for the love of Celestia, you’re both grown adults!” Twilight huffed. “It’s just a spreadsheet!”

Cupcake hugged Pandora close. “I’m so sorry, boss.”

“I’ll...I’ll be okay.” She suppressed a shudder. “So many white boxes, all at right angles.” She snapped her paw, and a plain little fedora appeared upon a counter. “Look at this! My chaos magic won’t be right for weeks! I can’t even get back into my house!”

“You can stay here if you want, boss.” Cupcake gave her another squeeze, and even managed a kind smile, before turning back to her stoic whisking.

“Really?” Pandora’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “You’d really let me stay here? Even after…”

“Yes, even after that.” Any traces of warmth disappeared from Cupcake at the reference. “But you are banned from the flour pantry.”

“That’s… pretty fair.” All the same, Pandora did pout. “What if I--”

“No.” Cupcake said.

“Aww.” Drooping fully, Pandora flopped onto the counter, her eyes flicking to Cupcake’s batter like a bored cat. “Whatcha doin?”

“Baking.” Cupcake said.

“Whatcha baking?” Cupcake just turned, and stared at Pandora until she blushed. “Oh, right, dumb question.” She watched as Cupcake slipped her cupcakes into the oven. “Why are you baking?”

“Because I find it encapsulates the fleeting nature of the mortal condition in a pithy yet subtle canvas of flavor.” She closed the over. “Also, the Bake-off’s coming up.”

“Oh? Gonna beat Dinky this year?” There was a snap, and Cupcake quietly set aside the wooden spoon she’d just destroyed. “Ooookay, so, is that a yes?”

“Yes, it is.” She reached into a drawer and withdrew a new pin. “This year my recipe is perfect.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Pandora continued to watch. “Can I help?”

Cupcake turned to Pandora, her expression unreadable. The moments stretched on, before she finally sighed in resignation.

“Thank you!” Pandora rushed up and grabbed her into a hug. “I was getting soooo bored.”

“You’ve been here five minutes,” Cupcake observed.

“And they were horrible.” Pandora grinned. “No offense.”

“None taken, boss.”

“I’m regretting this decision more and more by the moment,” Pandora drolled, doing her best not to fall asleep straight into the mixing bowl before her.

“Baking is a subtle art, filled with subtext and poetry appreciated by few,” Cupcake said. “Also we try not to blow things up.”

“But whyyyy?” Pandora whined, swirling her whisk dismally. “We both know flour’s already explosive. We’re like halfway to fun!”

“No,” Cupcake said.

“Uuuuuugh.” Pandora flopped. “Why do you like this so much?”

“It’s a quiet, structured expression of chaos,” Cupcake explained, her own whisk beating away steadily. “There are recipes and instructions, but the ultimate product depends on the whims of the baker. It is the soul rendered in dough.”

“Wow, that’s kind of deep, Cupcake.” Pandora glanced at her bowl with more appreciation.

“I like to read,” Cupcake said.

“Hmmmm.” Pandora stared at her batter. “Would you mind if I made my own cupcakes?”

“...no.” Cupcake gave Pandora a leery look. “I’ll handle the flour.”

Several hours later saw the two of them faced with their own creations.

“Well, that went…” Pandora coughed, giving her own cupcakes a poke. They wobbled.

“There is a place for structure, boss.” Cupcake finished icing her own cupcakes, each one covered in pale slate frosting. “Perfect.”

“Perfect, eh?” Pandora darted out a paw and snatched one of them, popping it in her mouth. “Mmmm, that’s some good styrofoam.”

“They are the height of subtlety,” Cupcake said.

“They taste like fluffy plaster.” Pandora glanced around, then poured herself a small cup of cream and knocked it back. “Eugh, how can you bake this stuff?”

“Have you tried yours?” Cupcake asked.

“Well, uhhh…” Pandora glanced at her cupcakes, and drew herself up. “Fine! Watch me!” She took a bite.

“Have you ever thought about kids?” Pandora immediately spat out the rest of her cupcake as she spluttered.

“Where did that come from?” Pandora coughed.

“Sorry, boss, I just couldn’t let you eat that.” Cupcake took out a dustbin, and started to scoop up the now sizzling cupcake crumbs.

“Uhhhh…” Pandora watched as one of her cupcakes spontaneously ignited on its own. “Thanks, Cups.”

“Perhaps less kerosene next time.” Cupcake carefully transported the now noxious inferno over to the wastebin.

“But it smells so good!” Pandora sighed and watched her creation crackle away. “Yours still taste like styrofoam.”

“I will take this opportunity to point out that you’re still alive after eating them, boss,” Cupcake said.

“Touche.” Pandora pouted and sat on the counter. “Doesn’t make yours any better.”

“What would you do differently, boss?” Cupcake asked.

“Add some pizzaz! Some pop! Some zip!” She picked up a spice rack and spun through it. “Look at this. You’ve got peppers, herbs, seasoning galore! I made my cupcakes so flavorful they caught fire! Make it loud! Make it memorable!”

“Before or after I send them to the hospital ward?” Cupcake asked.

“Okay, not as flavorful as mine. But I’ve still got a point!” Pandora folded her arms. “Tell me I don’t.”

“You… do have a point, boss.” Cupcake sighed and stared at her cupcakes. “Very well. What would you add?”

Pandora grinned ear to ear.

“Oooohhhh myyyy gooooooddddssss.” Pandora banged her head into the table repeatedly. “This is even worse than baking.”

Cupcake merely stood stoically beside her booth, the image of professionalism, or perhaps full-body paralysis. Around them, other booths of all varieties showed off pastries of every make. Chocolate eclairs, sprinkled doughnuts, frosted crullers, and fruit danishes all found themselves represented in every shape and form. Of course, Cupcake’s cupcakes sat on broad display, their colors a good bit brighter than normal.

“Where are the juuuudgessssss?” Pandora proceeded to flop around on the ground in mock death throes, jostling a tray of her own cupcakes. They began to smoke ominously. “I need approvaaaalllll.”

“I know, boss.” Cupcake said, edging her own tray away from Pandora’s. As she did so, a small grey unicorn trotted up, a broad smile on her face.

“Hi Pound! Hi Pumpkin! Hi Joe! Hi Pandora! Hi Cupcake!” Dinky waved, a tray of piping hot muffins trailing around behind her. Cupcake merely followed her with a particularly stony gaze.

“Hi Dinky!” Pandora waved back, before leaning in close to Cupcake. “Is she lucky she didn’t come within hoof’s reach?”

“Very, very lucky.” Cupcake said, still following Dinky with her dispassionate gaze of judgement.

“Why does she bother you so much?” Pandora asked, watching Cupcake watch Dinky.

“Nepotism,” Cupcake replied. “I’ve had her muffins. They’re not that good. She’s won out of sympathy for her mother for the past few years. This should be a contest of skill and nothing more.”

“Ouch, that’s pretty cold.” Pandora shrugged. “You’re not wrong, but still.”

“This year, my cupcakes will win.” She nodded resolutely.

“Heya Cuppycake! Oh! And it’s little Panda too!” Faster than a speeding hug-missile, Pinkie Pie grabbed the both of them into a crushing squeeze.

“Hi--ghhhk--aunt--hhhhh--Pinkie,” Pandora wheezed.

“Hi Pinkie.” Cupcake said, her constitution unfazed by Pinkie’s grip.

“Oh! And you made cupcakes! Neato-rito!” Before anypony could advise her better, she promptly stuffed one of Pandora’s in her mouth and chomped it down. She immediately turned to stone.

“Less basilisk venom next time,” Pandora observed. “Much less.”

“At least this year she didn’t explode. Or melt.” Pulling herself free, Cupcake wrapped her limbs around Pandora and freed her as well.

“Sorry aunt Pinkie!” Pandora blushed apologetically as the staff picked up Pinkie and carted her off in a wheelbarrow. “Dad says it wasn’t so bad!”

“Ms. Pandora?” The two of them turned to face an officious looking brown pony with a silver mane and clipboard. “Were your cupcakes the ones that incapacitated Mrs.Pie?”

“Uuuuhhh…” Pandora leaned in to Cupcake. “Is there a right answer here?”

“Yes, she was.” Cupcake said.

“Narc.” Pandora pouted, before she got a pink ribbon stuck to her chest fluff. “Huh?”

“For preventing party cannons and related antics.” The mare turned to Cupcake. “Ms.Cupcake.”

“Ms.Harshwinny.” Cupcake watched impassively as Harshwhinny took a cupcake and tasted it.

“Mmm!” Miss Harshwinny’s eyebrows climbed, and she took a second bite. “Very interesting! It has your usual complexity, but this boldness is quite refreshing! Is that cumin?”

“Caraway.” Cupcake gave the ghost of a smile. “It was Pandora’s idea.”

“Really?” Harshwinny raised an eyebrow, and took a second glance at Pandora’s now smoking cupcakes. “Well. A whole can be greater than the sum of its parts.”

“Clearly.” Cupcake commented, stolidly ignoring Pandora’s scowl.

“No one appreciates my art.” Pandora sulked, giving her cupcakes a pat before withdrawing her paw with a hiss and a sizzle. “Seriously? Et tu, pastries?”

“And now,” Cupcake said. “We wait.”

“Oh joy.”

“Mares and gentlecolts,” Ms.Harshwinny began from atop the stage. “I would like to take a moment to thank you all for making this yet another successful Canterlot Bake-off.”

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Even Cupcake managed a flat “wooooooo.”

“Now, of course, it is time to award the grand prizes.” She glanced down and examined her clip board. “In third place, we have Pinkie Pie and her Capsaicin Crullers, a provocative dish again managing to blend sweet and spicy. Unfortunately, Mrs.Pie is once again unable to collect her award due to gastrointestinal difficulties.” Ms.Harshwinny flipped her clipboard to the next page. “In second place, we have Dinky Doo, and her Homestyle Muffins, again a strong contender with a fluffy texture and a perfect blend of ripe blueberries and carab accents.”

Deathly silence fell across the entire crowd. Dinky herself stood as frozen as Pinkie, her perpetual smile suddenly all too wooden at the sudden revelation. Hesitantly, one pony walked up and poked her, only for his hoof to be smacked away with a resounding slap. Mechanically, Dinky started to walk up to the stage, the tension spooling tighter and tighter with every step she took. She ascended to the stage, took her medal, and turned to everypony below.

“Thank you.” She said, that rictus of a smile still on her face. She slowly walked back down.

“And first place,” Harshwhinny finally continued, seemingly unperturbed by the near psychotic display. “Goes to Ms.Cupcake, for her surprisingly inventive… cupcakes.” Harshwhinny flipped between pages for a second. “Yes, that’s right, she just called the recipe ‘cupcakes’ apparently. Anyway, though her recipes have long displayed a fantastic grasp of subtlety and flavor balance, they have long suffered from an excess of understatement that left them bland and difficult to appreciate. Today, I am proud to say that they have finally developed the bold self confidence they needed to shine. Cupcake, would you please come forward?”

“Get up there girl!” Pandora gave Cupcake a push. “Are, are you crying?”

“No. Just something in my eye.” Cupcake said, wiping a hoof across her face. “There we go.” Dry eyed, she trotted up and accepted her medal, turning to face the crowd with her standard stony expression. She stepped up to the microphone.

“About time.”

The audience stared. Pandora alone whooped and whistled.

“That medal is mine!” Dinky howled, leaping onto the stage as her horn shot bolts of golden fury. In one smooth motion, Cupcake ducked under her aim, and slammed a hoof up into Dinky’s chin. With a crack and a flip, Dinky sailed up and into the air. Flying in a lazy arc, she crashed into Pandora’s booth and upset the cupcakes within. They all exploded.

“Is she okay?” Somepony asked.

“GRAFAGAGGFF!” A smoking Dinky stormed out of the wreckage, glaring dementedly at the ponies around her, before collapsing flat onto her face.

“Today is a good day.” Cupcake said.

She even smiled a bit.