Extra Sprinkles

by Minds Eye

Rating: everyone
Tags: Spike, Pony Joe, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2717

Donut Joe calms an angry dragon and a distraught unicorn.

Mama never said there would be days like this.

Donut Joe, on his first day running his father's shop by himself, gets hit with a hurricane of tempers and accusations.

A well-connected hurricane of tempers and accusations.

Still, customers are customers, and they deserve the best service he can give.

My entry into the Everfree Northwest 2015 writing contest.

Edited by Noble Thought.

Published 2015-03-22 19:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-22 19:00:02 UTC

Extra Sprinkles

Donut Joe hummed to himself as he bit down on the rubber ball of his squirt gun, blasting the glass in front of him with a burst of cleanser. He levitated his rag and scrubbed away the smudge on the display case, the centerpiece of the restaurant. His green eyes reflected back at him, framed by his horn and messy mane.

Spotless display: check.

He set the bottle down and studied the shelves behind the counter. More importantly, he examined all the baskets of bagels loaded on them, making sure each row of each flavor was straight and uniform.

Show the product to the customer in an orderly fashion: check.

He turned around to the dining area. The tile floor reflected the sunlight beaming through the tall windows, and the round, wooden tables sat perfectly spaced apart, including a few stools for the little ones. Joe walked around the room and bumped every piece with a shoulder or hoof.

No wobbly tables or chairs: check.

After that, he trotted over to the doors, unlocking them and flipping the Closed sign to Open. “Let the customers in: check.” He grinned at the name that decorated the top of the sign, stylized with a logo of a bagel.

Bagel Break’s

“Told you I was ready, Pop!” One last touch to the sign, straightening it, and he turned back to the kitchen.

Fresh donuts filled his nose with their scent even before he pushed the swing door open. Off to the side, his father’s chef jacket hung on the wall. Above it was another sign, the first he had seen on the building; his grandfather’s Bear Claw’s decorated in much the same way as the first.

He pulled on the jacket’s sleeve, grinning as the apron spread too wide for his chest, and for a moment he saw Donut Joe’s emblazoned on the collar. “Not yet. It isn’t quite ready."

Instead, he reached over to a box of paper hats, folded one open, and put it on. Next he levitated a tray of pink-frosted donuts topped with sprinkles, carrying it out of the kitchen. He set it down and whistled while he stacked them in the center of the counter’s display. Eyes are drawn to color, right Pop?

The bell above the door rang, and he smiled up at his first customer of the day. “Good morning—what in Tartarus is this?”

A purple lizard standing on two legs slammed the door shut, leaning against it with all its weight. The thing tossed a look over its shoulder the blunt green spines on its back. “You gotta hide me!”

“You can talk?”

“Well... yeah!” It dashed to the counter. “Look, I really need your help! She could be here any second! Can I hide in the kitchen? Please?”

“What are you, pal?”

“A dragon.”

His breath caught in his throat. Dad, you never covered dragons. Joe scrambled back. “No dragons allowed! You won’t take our gold!”

“I’m not here for gold! She’s gonna catch—”

“Get out!” Joe levitated a broom from under the counter and swung it at the little monster’s head. “Out! Now!”

It ducked under the attack, and out of sight. “Are you serious?”

“Get going!” Joe charged around the counter. He brought the broom crashing down on the huddled form. “You know where the door is! Use it!”

“Would you listen—”

The next swing connected to the head, and the dragon yelped, shooting out a spurt of green flame. Joe ducked as the heat passed overhead—too close. He spun around to see his hat in a smoldering pile of ashes on the floor.

The dragon slapped its claws to its mouth. It threw a frantic look at the windows.

The doors blew open as a little violet unicorn filly sprang in. “Found you!”

Joe gaped. “Who are you?”

The dragon snatched the broom out of Joe’s magic, thrashing it about, and tried to circle around to the door. “Leave me alone, Twilight! I told you I have the day off!”

The filly bared her teeth as she blocked his way, matching him step for step. “We’ll see about that.” She clenched her eyes shut, and her horn began to glow. The broom took on a glow of its own, but it wasn’t enough to stop its arc. It smacked against the filly’s head. She growled and bit down on the bristles on the next swing, sparking a tug-of-war.

Joe rushed to her side. “Spit it out, kid! Spit it out!” He wrapped his hooves around her barrel and pulled her away, letting the broom fly up to smack the dragon in the snout. “Do you have any idea what I swept up with that thing? Why would you do that?”

The filly took a long breath, tongue hanging out. She sat down, looking up at him. “Sir, I apologize for my dragon. He isn’t—”

“I’m not your dragon!”

She shot it a look. “He isn’t usually this quarrelsome.”

Joe raised an eyebrow. “It’s a he?”

The dragon huffed. “It?” He slammed the broom down, sending up a puff of dust. “It? Should I just start calling you Pony? I have a name, too!”

Twilight eyed the cloud of sparkling motes, then turned her attention back to Joe. “He does have a name, sir. It’s Spike. And I’m Twilight Sparkle. Pleased to meet you, Mister...?”

“Uh, Joe. Donut Joe.”

“Pony Joe!”

“Spike! Be nice!”

“Why? First you chase me through downtown and then he starts smacking me with this!” He waved the broom overhead again. “And what was all that for? I was asking for help!”

Joe yanked it out of his grip with a burst of magic. “Well excuse me for never seeing a dragon before! And what are you doing running from her, anyway? I thought you were bringing the guards on my head.”

Twilight crouched down, eyes gleaming with cold fire. “That could still be arranged if he isn’t careful.”

Spike snorted. “She’s smarter than that. You’ll be the one in trouble here.”

“But she gave us an assignment!”

Joe looked between them. “She? She who?”

“I don’t care,” Spike snarled. “I’ve been helping you all week. What thanks has it gotten me?”

“But she gave us an assignment!”

“I’m not going!”

Twilight reared up and pounded her forehooves on the floor. “But she gave us an assignment!”

“She gave you an assignment, whatever stupid thing it is!”

Twilight pounced, tackling him to the floor.

Joe watched them rolling around, shaking his head in disbelief. “Really? First day?”

“Let go of my leg!”

“Let go of my tail!”

“Watch out!” Joe winced at the crack of wood hitting the floor. He shook his head and walked over to the fallen stool—and the two wrestlers frozen in a pretzel of limbs. “A chipped seat. Perfect! What’s wrong with you two?”

Spike shoved Twilight away. “It was her!”

She gulped, shoulders trembling. “I-I’m so sorry. It was an... I-I didn’t mean—”

Joe raised a hoof, mentally reciting one of his father’s adages. No one stayed in business by making enemies. He breathed in. Out. “Why don’t you two have a seat?” He carried the damaged stool behind the counter before they could answer. “Come on, pull up a chair. Both of you. I'm not going to bite.”

The tray of donuts was still half-full, and he finished loading most of them into the case. The last two, he put on a napkin each and nudged them towards the kids.

Spike and Twilight had pushed two more stools up to the counter and hopped up on them. Twilight poked at hers with a grimace. “I don’t like donuts. Mom tried making some and... well, they came out of the oven all dry and just not good.”

Joe barked a sharp laugh. “She baked a donut? Twilight, I promise you that one was never inside an oven.”

Spike’s claws shot across the counter, wrapping around his hoof. He stared straight ahead, frosting-covered tongue drooping out of his mouth, but his eyes weren’t looking at Joe, or anything for that matter.

“Ha! Looks like your dragon friend likes ‘em.” Joe pried his hoof away. “Your turn. Give it one bite.”

She levitated her donut took one small bite. Twilight chewed once, then stopped, eyes widening. She chewed again, and swallowed as a smile spread across her face. She leaned in, taking a larger chunk.

“Pop always says everything is better with a donut.” He watched them eat in peace, smiling to match the ones on their faces. “Looks like he was right. At least you’re not rolling on my floor any more.”

Twilight’s face fell. “I’m... I’m sorry about that, sir.”

He waved her apology away. “You already said that. And stop with the ‘Sir’ already, I work for a living. Just Joe.”

She smiled again. “Joe. But I’m still sorry. I was hoping we’d be back at the castle and out of your hair quicker than this.”

“Castle?”

Spike pounded the counter. “You’re not my mom, Twilight! Just because Celestia told you to do something doesn’t mean I have to do it!”

“Celestia?”

Twilight’s sudden glower at Spike turned to a beaming smile at him. “I attend Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns! That’s where I study magic with Princess Celestia herself!”

Spike swallowed another bit of donut. “So you don’t need me for every little thing.” He sneered. “The Princess had me fetching books for you all week! Now she finally gives you something to do and left me out of it. You can run one little experiment by yourself.”

“No I can’t, Spike!” Twilight blushed. She closed her eyes, and her horn radiated an intense amount of light.

Joe cocked an eyebrow as her donut dropped closer to the counter, and her napkin fluttered as if it was caught in a breeze.

She stood on the stool, planting both front hooves on the counter, her neck arched and shoulders straining. The light dimmed once, then twice. On the third try, Twilight slumped back down, hiding her face under her hooves.

He caught her donut and set it down.

She shook her head. “I can’t lift more than one object at once.”

“All it takes is time, kid. You’ll get there.” Joe patted her shoulder. “I can’t even lift two stools at once. If you’re in that school, you’ll leave me in the dust before you know it. Especially with the Princess teaching you!”

“But I don’t have time for that.” She looked up, her bottom lip quivering. “P-Princess Celestia wants me to add three drops of three different fluids to the same solution at once three different times! Nine drops! If even one goes wrong…”

“Uh,” he cleared his head with a shake. “Why?”

She shook her head. “I asked, but she didn’t answer. She just smiled and asked me if I could do it. And she knows I can’t do it! I know she knows!”

“Three at the same time, huh?” Joe flicked his eyes over to Spike. “Tricky problem she has.”

“She can figure it out,” he snapped. “She already knows where every single book in the library is. She can always get them so much faster than I can. What’s a few bottles?”

Twilight looked at the floor, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Beakers.”

Spike threw his hands up. “Can’t you get someone else to help you? Another student? Your brother? I’ve wanted this break all week.”

Joe hummed. “And what do you wanna do?”

Spike looked between both Joe and Twilight, watching him with her head tilted to the side. His fangs dug into his lip. He sighed and pointed at the donut. “This. I wanted to cook something.”

Twilight stared at it. “Really? Cooking? Is that why I found you at the grocery store?”

“Yeah. Hotel Pan gave me her peanut butter and chocolate chip cookie recipe, and I was going to try it out.”

Joe whistled. “The Hotel Pan? I tried to sign up for the seminar she taught at the castle last year. Too late. Pop was more disappointed than I was.”

“I know, right? She lets me sit in the kitchen and watch when she isn’t too busy. She’s the best!”

“You want to work in a kitchen?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged. “I think it’s cool, you know? They get to do something. Like your donuts.” Spike chewed and swallowed his last bit. “You made these, right? That’s awesome!”

“Thanks, kid. But you want to hear a secret?” Joe leaned towards him, but kept his voice loud enough for Twilight to overhear. “I’m not in charge of this place. My dad owns it. This is my first day running it on my own.”

Spike’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, that’s so cool. You get to do everything?”

“Yep, and do you know why?” Joe glanced at Twilight—rigid and attentive—and back to Spike. He kept silent until he saw Spike do the same. “I had to earn it. No chef worth their apron, from Pop to Hotel Pan and everypony in between, would let some newbie work their kitchen without seeing what they can do. The only way to get trusted like that is to bust your tail.”

Twilight chewed her lip for a moment. “I need you, Spike.”

Spike hunched over, twiddling his claws. “But the books...”

A long moment passed. Twilight swallowed. “You worked just as hard as I did, didn’t you? I was able to focus on reading the books when I didn’t have to worry about finding them. I could answer her questions faster than I could on my own.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

Spike smiled and nodded back. “You’re welcome.”

Joe clapped on the counter. “How do you like that? Teamwork! Now you two get out of here. I think you have something to do today.”

All the color drained from Twilight’s face. “Oh, no. No, no, no! We don’t have any money!”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I can spot you a couple donuts, and the chair’s an easy fix. Just be a little more careful next time, yeah?”

Spike raised a hand. “I have something.”

Joe flicked an ear at him. “I won’t hear it, kid. You don’t owe—whoa!”

A bright, blue sapphire glittered in Spike’s claws. He slid it over to Joe. “Princess Celestia gave me that for lunch. I was going to trade it for ingredients at the store, but you should have it.”

“Mighty generous of you, Spike.” He picked up the gem, feeling its weight and studying its brilliance. “A little too generous. Wait here.”

Joe stepped back, pushed open the door, and looked over the trays still waiting for him. He pulled the chocolate-glazed ones over, chuckling at the gaping expressions on their faces, their heads turning in unison to follow it as he pulled the tray to the side, lifted it over his head, lowered it to the counter.

“You never said that was an option,” Twilight whispered.

“Miss Twilight, you have only just begun to explore the delectable and delicious domain of donuts.” Joe took two of them off the tray and set them down on a wrapper. The blue glint of the sapphire caught his eye.

Ah, Joe, you can do better.

He grabbed a rainbow colored shaker and sprinkled both donuts with a generous amount, bathing them with a bit more magic to make sure each sugary bit sank in and held. Another flash wrapped them in plastic, and Joe dropped them in a paper bag. “Two chocolates with extra sprinkles, just for you. Now we’re even.”

Twilight eyed the door behind him. “What else do you have back there?”

Joe winked. “Plenty to keep you two coming back for more. I want to hear how this experiment goes.”

“We will! Come back! And tell!” She grabbed the bag in her magic and bolted for the door.

Spike snapped out his stupor, leaping off his stool and charging after her. “Hey, one of those is mine!”

“I’ll tell you what we do with the holes next time!” Joe laughed as they ran out of sight. He walked around the counter swept up the remaining ashes of his hat. The sapphire caught his eye again, glittering in a ray of sunlight. “Good kids.”