Pinkie put yet another ornately decorated cupcake in front of him. This particular one had rainbow-colored frosting, along with what appeared to be a thundercloud shooting a red-, yellow-, and blue-colored lightning bolt.
"How about this one?" she asked, a smile on her face. "This one took me a while to make, so it should be extra yummy!"
"Pinkamena, I've told you already," he said. "I can't taste these."
Pinkie's smile remained plastered on her face. "Aw, c'mon! How would you know if you haven't tried it yet?"
"Pinkamena, I really don't think--"
"Here, try some of it!" The mare shoved the cupcake across the table to him. She slipped, however, and ended up slamming the cupcake into his face.
He scowled at her, squinting. "Pinkamena, you did it again."
"Whoops! Heh, sorry," Pinkie said, blushing as the cupcake fell from his face onto the table.
He sighed. "No matter. Now, are you actually going to use my services, or are you going to try and force-feed me pastries for another hour?"
"Hm. I guess it'd be cool to use you... but, wouldn't it upset everypony?" Pinkie frowned, head tilted to the side. She looked up in thought.
He relaxed slightly, glad to not have confectionaries forced onto him. "Nopony would know unless you told them, Pinkamena. It'll be our little secret."
"Promise me you won't tell anypone. No, wait. Pinkie Promise me!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"
Pinkie got off her chair and stood up. "Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye," she recited, performing the actions.
"Erm... cross my heart, hope to die--"
"It's 'fly.'"
"...hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye. As if I haven't already had that happen to me," he muttered
"Good," Pinkie said, returning to the table. Her eyes darted to the stairway, then to the entrance, then back to him. As soon as she was sure the two were alone, Pinkie asked, "So, what kinds of stuff do I ask?"
He smiled. "Whatever you desire."
Pinkie's face lit up like a firework. "Ooh! Can you make it rain chocolate rain? Pretty please? I know this one meanie -- well, he wasn't a meanie then, you see, because I didn't know that he was mean -- anyway, he made these cotton candy cloud that rained chocolate rain and--"
He frowned. "Dearest Pinkamena, I don't believe you understand how my talent works. I provide answers, not miracles of nature."
"Oh," she said. "Hm... can you bake Fruity Bits into a cake?"
He deadpanned. "The results aren't pretty. Assuming you're putting the candy directly into the batter, the Fruity Bits will melt into the bottom of the pan and stick there, while the cake bakes around and on top of it."
"Why's that?" Pinkie tilted her head.
"Corn syrup."
"Can you bake fruit into a cake?"
He sighed again. "No, because the fruits will dry out. Most ponies slice the cake after baking and then add the sliced fruit and icing." After pausing for a second, he added, "Considering you're a baker, I thought you'd know this."
Pinkie checked all of Sugarcube Corner again, eyes darting all around.
"Yes, we're alone, Pinkamena. What is it?"
"What's the recipe for Gustave LeGrande's eclairs?"
He lowered his eyebrows. "Can't tell you that because that violates policy. All I can say is that he uses quite the amount of cream."
Pinkie squinted. "What color are DJ-PON3's eyes?"
He rolled his eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, her eyes are a nice shade of fuschia. About the same color as those glasses she wears, actually."
"What does Time Turner do when Mayor Mare's not looking?"
He blinked, frowning. "He does timey-wimey stuff."
"What was Applejack really doing at Canterlot after the rodeo?"
"Things that, mentioned to you, would be the cause of her ruin. Anything else?"
"Why does Lyra sit like how she sits?"
He was ready to slam his face onto the table. "She finds it comfortable."
Pinkie raised an eyebrow. "How in the hay would sitting like that be comfortable to anypony!?"
"That's one of the things I don't know. Why don't you go ask her?"
"I thought you said you knew everything!"
He sighed once more. "Anything else?"
"Actually, yeah! How come Fluttershy's shy?"
Oh, this mare is never gonna ask the good stuff! he thought. "Ugh, okay. She was a runt as a filly and couldn't fly very well. Given the nature of most Cloudsdale foals (i.e. brash, proud, strong, all that jazz), she was outcasted and blah, blah, blah, and now she has problems with insecurity."
"What sounds better? Chimmicherry, or cherrychanga? Chimmicherry, cherrichanga. Chimmicherry, cherrichange. Chimmicherrry, cherrychanga..."
He was about to blow a fuse. "Both! Both sound equally fantastic. Now are you going to use my services for their intended purposes or are you just going to babble all day!?"
"Sheesh, fine. Does Dashie fool with fillies?"
Oh? he thought. She actually asked something interesting. He shook his head. "If you're asking if she's a lesbian, the answer is no. From what I gather, she also hates being asked that constantly."
Pinkie frowned. "Aw. That absolutely anonymous pony I talked to isn't gonna be very happy."
"What?"
"Nothing. Does Rarity like fame over... us?"
"The Elements, you mean? She tries to resist fame. Of course, once you taste fame, it's a bit hard to not want more..."
"Okay. What happened to Applejack's parents?"
He appeared surprised. "I... actually don't know that. That's a good question. I wouldn't ask Applejack, however; I'm sensing a negative aura about that subject."
"Alright, juiciest question of all!"
Oh, here we go, he thought.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall..."
The orange-coated unicorn in the mirror looked at Pinkie, his yellow eyes fixed on her. "Yes, Pinkamena?"
"Does Luna really like bananas?"
The unicorn facehoofed. He looked at the clock behind Pinkie.
8:30 AM. It's only been one and a half hours, he thought.
This eternity was gonna be a long one.