The Fifth Annual Ponyville Bake-Off
The Fifth Annual Ponyville Bake-Off
“Welcome one and all to the Fifth Annual Ponyville Bake-Off!” Mayor Mare announced from a stage in town square. She tried to sound warm, but her tone had a noticeable bite of cynicism to it. Although, who could fault her for that? The Ponyville Bake-Off was originally supposed to be a one-off contest as a fundraiser for the town of Ponyville. But midway through the contest's first iteration, it was canceled when all the judges came down with food poisoning. Then the next year, Celestia was a judge and entered an altered state of consciousness from Treehugger's brownies. As heinous as that was, it was nothing compared to last year's cream cheese incident.
It seemed as though every year, the contest became all the more disastrous. Yet, every year, the audience was noticeably larger than last year's as well. Mayor Mare knew what was going on: more and more ponies wanted to see how big of a train wreck the competition would be this time. Mayor Mare was getting sick of humiliating herself.
But the ponies were far from sick of the event. The audience stomped their hooves and cheered. After the applause died down, Mayor Mare pointed to her right, gesturing to the judges' table with three ponies already sitting behind it. “Introducing this year's judges: first up, we have Carrot Cake!” Mr. Cake sheepishly waved at the cheering crowd.
Mayor Mare continued. “She was banned from entry after last year's cream cheese incident but we're legally required to allow her to participate. Let's hear it for Pinkie Pie!” Another round of applause sounded as Pinkie Pie bounced in her seat, obviously excited to taste the sweets that would be coming her way in mere moments.
Mayor Mare introduced the last judge with only two words: a murmured “And Derpy.” Derpy was sitting with her back turned to the audience. Mr. Cake awkwardly walked over and turned her around.
“Alright, let's get this over with,” Mayor Mare murmured, then quickly corrected herself, “I mean let's get started!” There was a line of entrants on Mayor Mare's left. She glanced at her note card as the first participant approached her. “First up, we have Cup Cake, entering her seven layer cake. Is there anything you'd like to say about your cake before we let the judges try it?”
“Yes, there is,” Mrs. Cake said. “I would only like to remind one of the judges that I am his wife and another judge that I am her employer.”
“You know, now that I think about it, your entry seems entirely fair,” Mayor Mare said in a tone that was dripping with sarcasm. “But it's too late to disqualify you now. Let the judging begin.”
Pinkie and Mr. Cake nervously smiled as they bit into their piece of the cake. It was not bad by any means, but they wore exaggerated grins as they ate it, as if to show Mrs. Cake they were going to give her the best score possible. Derpy, however, was busy playing with her piece of the cake, apparently forgetting that she was supposed to even taste it.
“Judges, your scores, please,” Mayor Mare said. To nopony's surprise, Pinkie Pie and Mr. Cake held up signs giving the dessert a perfect 10. Derpy, on the other hand, was making choo choo noises and holding up a drawing of a train.
Did they really give her crayons? Mayor Mare thought. The last four bake-offs were disasters in their own rights, so she was expecting another shambles. But this was the first year a judge was doing crayon drawings instead of scoring. “Well it looks like it's gonna be tough to beat that,” Mayor Mare said as Mrs. Cake smiled, stepped off the stage, and disappeared into the crowd. “I think that was a perfect score. Not too sure what the train counts as. Anyway, onto our next contestant,” she took a look at her note card, “It looks like we have Snips and Snails entering their...” she looked at the schoolcolts. “Er... my notes can't be right,” she said, looking at the black semisolid on the duo's dish. “My notes said you were making pumpkin pie, but I'm guessing you're entering... what is that, chocolate pudding?”
“No, your notes are right. This is our pumpkin pie,” Snips said, proudly gesturing to the dish in Snails's hoof.
“...Of course it is. Oh well, not my problem,” Mayor Mare said, passing the dish to the judges' table. “Any tips you'd like to share with the audience so they could get their pumpkin pie to look so... black?”
“Use all the vanilla in the pantry and bake it on... uh, I can't remember the exact temperature, so just set your oven on as high as it'll go and leave that sucker in there overnight,” Snips announced.
“Mm, sucker... we should've made suckers,” Snails said.
“Let's see what the judges have to say,” Mayor Mare said, looking at the judges' table.
Mr. Cake had been cautiously sniffing the pumpkin pie that looked nothing at all like pumpkin pie, but looked too afraid to actually try it. Pinkie, on the other hand, tried it and immediately regretted it, tearfully trying to scrape the foul taste off her tongue as her mane lost its usual poofiness and straightened. Derpy poked hers with a hoof and started amusing herself with the squishy sound it made.
“Judges, your scores, please,” Mayor Mare said. As predicted, Pinkie and Mr. Cake immediately held up a sign with a 0 on it. This time Derpy drew a puppy.
“Ooh, tough break, boys,” Mayor Mare said. “Better luck next time.” Snips and Snails complained to each other and walked off the stage as the third contestant stepped on. “Alright, now it looks like next up we've got... Treehugger!?” She said, frightened. “You people let Treehugger back in? I thought we banned her!”
“Mayor Mare, do you mind taking it down a skosh? You're killing my vibe.” Treehugger said. “Just take a deep breath,” she said, taking one, herself, for Mayor Mare to follow.
But the mayor of Ponyville didn't follow. “Lemme guess. You made those brownies again, didn't you?” Mayor Mare accused, impatiently.
“Oh, I made brownies, double M,” Treehugger said. “But don't worry. I changed the recipe a little this time, no big d. But the secret ingredient's still there.”
Mayor Mare put a hoof to her face and sighed. “The 'secret ingredient' is the reason they made you change the recipe.”
“Really? I don't think so,” Treehugger said.
“I'm not giving these to the judges if your secret ingredient is in there again. You're lucky Celestia's not a judge this year!”
“What? Oh, no, no, that wasn't the secret ingredient,” Treehugger said. “No, the secret ingredient is love.” Mayor Mare sighed and rolled her eyes. It was only the third entry and her patience was already wearing thin. She forcefully took the plate of brownies. “Hey, now, my babies wanna be treated gently!” Treehugger complained.
Mayor Mare set the plate on the table, then noticed one of the judges was gone. “Where's Pinkie Pie?”
“Ma'am, after that 'pumpkin pie' that can only be described as some kind of horribly depraved parody of baking, she said she was traumatized and in a state of severe emotional crisis.”
“Oh come on, it wasn't that bad!” Snips called out from the crowd.
Ignoring him, Mr. Cake continued. “She didn't say where she was going, but I suspect it's a place that starts with a 'p' and ends with a 'sych ward.'”
Mayor Mare's eye twitched. “I guess we'll just have to go on without her, then. You, have a brownie, and you, have a brownie,” she said, giving one to Derpy and Mr. Cake.
“Not so fast!” Mrs. Cake called out right before Mr. Cake was able to take the first bite. While Mayor Mare was facing the judges, Mrs. Cake had apparently climbed back on stage.
“Sweet Celestia,” Mayor Mare murmured under her breath as Mrs. Cake stormed across the stage.
“What, Carrot Cake? My love's not good enough for you? You're gonna eat something baked with another mare's love?”
“It's just an expression,” Mayor Mare said, rubbing her temple with a hoof.
“No it isn't,” Treehugger said. “I chanted 'peace and love' the whole time I was baking them.”
“Not helping,” Mayor Mare said with a sigh.
“Look, Cuppy, you told me to judge! Remember!? It was your plan!” Mr. Cake shot back at his wife.
“Don't 'Cuppy' me! You know what? I don't care who wins this stupid contest anymore. I'm going back to Sugarcube Corner right now. And if you love me, you'll follow me.”
“Oh, come on, baby, don't go!” Mr. Cake cried, following his wife.
“...And now the only judge we have left is the one whose grading system makes absolutely no sense. Sorry, Treehugger,” Mayor Mare said.
“It's chill,” Treehugger said, “it's not about winning, it's about bringing the community together. With baking. You know what I'm saying?”
“Yes, yes, yes, how insightful,” Mayor Mare said, scooting Treehugger towards the stairs offstage. “I suppose that means that's it for this year's bake off. Who would've guessed it would end the way all the others have?” She sighed. “I trust you'll all come back for next year's inevitable–”
“Not so fast!” a voice from the crowd cried out.
“What? Who said that?” Mayor Mare asked. A cloud of smoke burst on the stage next to Mayor Mare and once it cleared, Trixie had revealed herself. “Trixie? Huh, never took you for much of a baker.”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie is full of surprises. After all, how can't she be when she's got so many talents?”
“Yeah,” Mayor Mare said, unimpressed, “and you didn't enter the last four baking contests because…?”
“Why, it simply wouldn't have been fair, of course,” Trixie said. “Trixie is nothing if not humble. She knew she would have won; she doesn't need a prize to tell her she's the best baker. But this contest has gone on far too long without a winner.”
“And how do you plan on winning?” Mayor Mare asked, dryly. “Our only judge left doesn't grade anything.”
“Are you sure about that?” Trixie asked with a sly grin.
“You know what. If you've got something Derpy will actually grade, then I guess you win.”
“Hm,” Trixie hummed, taking off her hat, stroking her chin with a hoof, obviously pretending to think. “Something Derpy would grade... you mean like this?” she said, reaching into her hat and pulling out a blueberry muffin.
Derpy eyes widened when she saw the muffin in Trixie's hoof. She flew as fast as her wings would carry her, knocking over the judges' table and practically tackled Trixie, taking the muffin from her hoof.
“And now, it all comes down to this,” Mayor Mare said. “Derpy, on a scale of one to ten, rate Trixie's muffin.” Trixie and the crowd leaned in with anticipation. Even Mayor Mare, herself, was a little anxious to hear the rating now that she no longer had her paper and crayons.
“Muff-ten!” Derpy said, licking the crumbs off her hoof.
“And there we have it, folks. A rating in the form of a bad pun, but a rating nonetheless. It took us five whole years, but somepony finally managed to win this thing!”
“Behold! I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, have done what nopony else could do! I got Derpy to say a number! Who among you can say the same? That's right, I am truly gifted not only at magic, but at baking! I... wait a minute, what was the prize for this thing, anyway?”
“Well, er... after the way the last bake-offs went, we didn't expect anypony to actually win, so we never really prepared a proper prize. So, I guess... bragging rights?”
“Bragging rights?” Trixie blankly said. “Bragging rights?” she repeated. Mayor Mare flinched, expecting the worst. “This is the greatest day of my life! What an excellent contest!” Trixie said. At first, Mayor Mare thought she was being sarcastic, but then Trixie beamed and shook the mayor's hoof. “All my life it's been 'Trixie, stop bragging so much.' But now I have the right to brag. And none of you can take that away from me. And don't you forget it! From now on, I, the Great and Powerful Trixie, am going to brag, brag, brag, all I want. Because it's my right!”
And here I thought things would be better if we actually had a winner, Mayor Mare thought as Trixie droned on and on.