In Sugarcube Corner did they sit one afternoon. The two of them. Rarity and Fluttershy, perhaps. I don't know.
A felicitous discussion concerning cupcakes and the frosting thereof ricocheted between them. Because the only thing better than eating sugary foods is discussing the very consumption of sugary foods while doing so. Ponies are very simple people, you see.
“I prefer mine without sprinkles,” said Fluttershy, cheeks puffy, mane puffier. “It's a lot less stressful to eat a cupcake when all it has is just frosting.” See what I mean?
Rarity was busy being Rarity. “I prefer mine to be adorned with frosted sugar, colored to match a fine ocean cerulean. Not too blue, mind you. A lady's eyes have to come up for air as much as her throat, after all.”
“Oh Rarity!” Fluttershy wedged between her giggles. “You're so well-worded!” She was wrong.
“Quite frankly, I fail to see why you don't branch out more, darling,” Rarity outra-vapored. “You are mortal, after all. That leaves you with very few years of your life to enjoy the variety of cupcakes at one's disposal. Don't get me wrong; how you intend to face the equine reaper is completely up to you. Nevertheless, I'd hate to see a severe lack of sprinkles in your diet lead to an acute episode of existential horror.”
“Well, I never thought of it like that,” Fluttershy murmured. She chose to stare at a brown stain on the floor of the cafe instead of at Rarity. “I always measured my life in the number of stones that I've passed. So far, I'm at zero, which leaves me at the starting gate.” Her eyes zig zagged back to table level. “It's a bit like losing my virginity, only I expect more blood involved.”
“Just a little taste of sprinkles,” Rarity insisted. “I insist.” Dammit. “What's the worse that could happen?”
“Well, alright. Do I get to choose the flavor?”
“Of course, darling! I highly suggest the peppermint.”
“Well, if peppermint tastes as silly as the word sounds, then I'm all for it.” Fluttershy turned around in her chair and stretched her forelimb as far as her feeble strength could manage. “Oh, Pinkie Pie? Another order, please.”
Did you notice how Rarity totally glossed over that “virginity” statement Fluttershy made? That's fine; I'm not paying attention either. Anyways, all of a sudden, Derpy Hooves hobbled in through the front door like a goddess forsaken stegosaurus.
“Hoorj,” she managed, head twitching left and right.
“That's easy for your to say!” Pinkie Pie sang as she bounced her way across Sugarcube Corner. She stopped on a dime before the two marefriends' table, oblivious to the mailmare's undulating cricket song in the background. “So what'll it be, Flutters, ol' buddy, ol' pal?”
“I would like to have a vanilla frosted cupcake with extra sprinkles on it.” Fluttershy looked at Rarity for approval, then winked in Pinkie Pie's direction. “Peppermint flavored, please.”
“Ooooooh!” Pinkie Pie nudged Fluttershy with her elbow. Ponies have those, right? “Someone's taking a trot on the mild side today!” Pinkie Pie giggled. Nineteen infants out of a thousand are stillborn.
“Well, it was Rarity's insistence,” Fluttershy exclaimed. She had to raise her voice over the sound of cicadas emanating from Derpy's posterior. “Seems like the best way to outrace death is through artificially manufactured carbohydrates.”
“Indeed.” Rarity nodded. “Sprinkles are an absolute good. Sprinkles are life. All around their margin lies the gulf.”
By this time, Derpy had locked her hooves in place. She stretched her neck towards the ceiling with her teeth barred and sort of... started vibrating her neck left and right. I mean like a freakin' tuning fork.
“Wait.” Pinkie raised her hoof. She looked all around the cafe as the window panes rattled from the sonic resonance. “Do you think... that Fluttershy would be willing to try out vanilla wafers too?”
“Oooh!” Rarity clasped her hooves together like some albino seal. “Wedged into the frosting like a sunhat? Oh Pinkie, that would be divine!”
“I don't know.” Fluttershy gulped. “I already think the sprinkles are pushing it. And it is a Friday.”
“Religion has nothing to do with it, darling.”
“You make a good point, Rarity.” Fluttershy smiled at Pinkie Pie. “Sign me up for vanilla wafers as well.”
“Frumples! Peppermint sprinkles and vanilla wafers it is!” Pinkie Pie jotted the order down using a pen and her mane's front... epiglottis... thingy. I dunno, man. Anyways, her smile was extra obese when she added, “I'm super glad you're experimenting like this, Fluttershy! Maybe next time you'll give lemon soda a shot!”
“Oh my.” Fluttershy sank in her seat, blushing. “Do I dare?”
“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie swiveled around, swung around, swoopity: “Lemme just bake up a fresh batch of cupcakes and we'll be filling your timid tummy in no time!” Of course, this was when she ran into Derpy. “Why, hello there, Miss Doo! Or, wait, did you get your name changed already? Wow. Pegasus transitional surgeries confuse the Tart out of me.”
Derpy's face was looking straight at her. This was an odd thing, considering that the mailmare's body was aimed at the front counter. Then another odd thing happened, depending on where you were born, I suppose. Derpy's muzzle split apart, as did the majority of her neck. The thing that burst out of it was rigid, gangling, and more than a little bit black. Gray pustules flanked the side, forming densely in between flailing tendrils of segmented arachnoid limbettes. This carried on all across the stalk, which continued to protrude outward from Derpy's unraveling neckhole. Oh, there was also lots of slime. I'm talking elephant buckets.
Pinkie Pie froze in place, overcome by a stinging sensation. I'm specifically referring to that tiny feeling you get in your nasal cavities. It's somewhere between an itch and pain, like when you've just freshly plucked a hair from your nose and you can't tell whether you're about to cry or bleed. Then you ponder over the fact that you're a grown-up organism and you shouldn't have to worry about either, much less sit your posterior down to wax poetic about horse ladies embroiled in a William S. Burroughs fever dream because you had nothing else better to do at ten in the morning with five hours left to go before your workshift. Anyways, Pinkie knew what to do about this. Let's follow her.
“Oh.” She stared. There was no more blinking. “I see.” And she did. “Be with you in a minute,” she said, then strolled her way into the kitchen. Minutes later, she shuffled back out, dragging a lengthy piece of rope behind her. She then proceeded to mount a chair and toss the noose through a space between the ceiling beams. Derpy Hooves wasn't all that triggered by this, probably because she was seventy percent mutant grasshopper at that point.
“Pinkie Pie?” Fluttershy asked from afar. “What are you doing?” There was a loud snap in the distance, and Fluttershy's mane parted down the center. The sound of locusts grew into a cacophonous symphony. Fluttershy's eyes went in opposite direction while a thin line of blood rivered down her skull. She tilted her neck back as her muzzle started to foam.
“So I was thinking of opening a new dress shop in Fillydelphia tailored specifically for stallions who want to try on mare's clothing,” Rarity said with a smile. The windows turned black outside as the blood crept up to her fetlocks. “I was thinking of calling it 'The City of Brotherly Sissy.'” She smiled from ear to pale ear. “What do you think about that?”
“Guuuu,” Fluttershy managed, and then her skull split in two. A swarm of maggots spilled out, pooling around the table.
“Hmmph!” Rarity brushed the worms off her teacup and took an angry sip. “Rude.”
