"Thanks again for watching the twins while I'm busy, Pinkie Pie," Mr. Cake said to Pinkie as she sat with Pound and Pumpkin Cake, attempting to catch their attention with some toys.
"Not a problem, Mr. Cake!" Pinkie replied cheerfully. She was always more than happy to spend time with the twins, and the twins adored Pinkie. She was almost like an aunt to them.
But as she took her eyes of Pound Cake, he flew up and grabbed a jar of sugar off the counter. Seeing this, Mr. Cake calmly took the jar from his son's grasp.
"No, no, Pound Cake," he scolded softly, "We don't play with the ingredients while Daddy is baking."
Pound Cake cooed and went back to playing with his sister and Pinkie.
Just then, Mrs. Cake walked in the back with a list in her hoof.
"Where did we put that double-decker chocolate cheesecake, Sugarcake?" she asked her husband, "Those two young ladies Lyra and Bon Bon are here to pick up their order."
Mr. Cake nodded in the direction of the fridge. "In there, Honeydew," he told her.
Mrs. Cake went over and grabbed the cake she was looking for. Thanking Mr. Cake, she quickly walked out of the room, her pink swirly hair bobbing away as she walked. Mr. Cake watched her fondly.
Suddenly, Pinkie Pie spoke up.
"Hey, Mr. Cake?" she asked, "I was wondering, how did you and Mrs. Cake meet?"
Mr. Cake smiled. He set down his baking utensils and sat down on the bench near the entrance to the back room. Pumpkin Cake climbed up on his lap while Pound stayed sitting next to Pinkie.
"Well, Pinkie Pie," he said, "It all started years ago..."
"I grew up on a vegetable farm on the outskirts of Manehatten, one of the few farms not taken over by buildings and businesses. I was the youngest of six older siblings, and often overshadowed by them. In my youth, I was named Carrot Stick, due to my rather lanky build, even as a colt.
There was a set way of how things would work around the farm: the oldest siblings would help Pa with the manual work, while the younger ones would stay in the house and help Ma with chores. Throughout my life, my passion was never farm work, planting crops, plowing fields, or any of the work Pa would do; my passion was baking.
My true calling in life was baking sweets for other ponies. Cookies, cakes, pastries, pies, pick a baked good and I could make it. I knew it was my destiny from the moment my cutie appeared on my yellow flank.
I dreamed of opening my own bakery and selling treats to everypony in town, but I knew I wasn't going to get much done by making pies in the kitchen with Ma. So, I waited until I was old enough to move out, then I said goodbye to my family, and headed off the the big city to open my business.
It was no picnic.
I had trouble finding a space to open a bakery, nopony seemed interested in my goods, so I decided to sell my wares elsewhere. I traveled from town to town, city to city, offering samples of treats to anypony walking by. I became known to some as "The Wandering Baker." But without a stable place to set up shop, I kept looking.
That was until I reached Ponyville, a friendly, quiet little town where everypony knows everypony. I was sure that I would find business here.
So I set up a small stand in the town square, but not very many ponies stopped by. They seemed more interested in the local sweet shop: Sugarcube Corner.
I though to myself, why not propose a partnership with the owner? If we can somehow form an alliance, we can both benefit!
As I approached the shop, I noticed a sign in the window: HELP WANTED: BAKER'S ASSISTANT. That was my cue!
I walked inside, looked around briefly, then spoke to the pony closest to me.
"Excuse me, sir," I asked, "But would you know where I can apply to work at this establishment?'
"Oh, if you have any questions, I would talk to the owner, Miss Cup Cake," he replied.
Nodding my thanks I turned my attention to the front counter. And that's when I saw her."
"Saw who?" Pinkie interrupted, bouncing up and down, "Who'd you see, Mr. Cake?"
Mr. Cake grinned. "Just settle down Pinkie and I'll tell you."
Pinkie did as she was told, though she she still fidgeted in excitement. But just as he was about to start again, Pumpkin began to fuss, and so did Pound.
"Oh dear, looks like it's nap time for these two cinnamon buns," he said to the twins. "Just give me a moment to put the twins to bed, alright, Pinkie?"
"Okie-dokie, Mr. Cake!" Pinkie replied cheerfully.
Mr. Cake smiled as he carried the little foals upstairs to their rooms.
A few minutes later, he returned. He sat back down on the bench and began to tell the story again.
"Anyways..." Mr. Cake continued.
"Behind the counter stood a vision of beauty. A young mare with blue fur and pink swirly hair, reminiscent of frosting which fell around her face, framing it like a portrait. She was a bit heavier set that what most stallions would find attractive, but I thought she was stunning. Her pink eyes sparkled like the most precious of gems. And her laugh rang through the air like wind chimes.
It was the store's owner, Miss Cup Cake.
I was just awestruck by her. I felt my knees shake and my heart race. She truly was the most beautiful mare I'd ever seen.
But then I remembered why I was there: to make an application, not to gawk at the owner.I swallowed the lump in my throat and made my way up to the front. But the closer I got, the more nervous I felt. I was sweating profusely, even though it wasn't very hot inside the shop. My heart beat faster and faster with every step I took. I just couldn't take my eyes off Cup Cake. I was head over hooves in love.
But in my daydream, I didn't fully pay attention to where I was going.
I suddenly walked right into a display set in the middle of the room, knocking over its contents, a large white cake with extravagant frosting, to the floor.
I tried to stop it, but it had already splattered all over the floor. Suddenly, all eyes were on me and I felt my face grow red with embarrassment.
An elderly mare angrily approached me.
"You clumsy fool!" she scolded in a shrill voice, "Do you know how long Miss Cup Cake worked on that cake for me and my husband's fiftieth wedding anniversary?!"
She raised her cane in the air as if to strike me with it, but a voice calling out stopped her.
"Stop! Stop!" Miss Cup Cake raced over and stood between me and the elderly mare. "Mrs. Silver Stone, it was an accident, I'm sure." She turned to look at me.
"Uh...yes!" I quickly agreed, "I most certainly was an accident! I really didn't mean to ruin your cake."
The old mare huffed in frustration. Miss Cup Cake put her hoof on her shoulder. "I'll remake the cake for tonight. I promise."
Silver Stone muttered to herself as she stomped out the door, but took the time to glare at me angrily.
Then Cup Cake turned to the crowd in the shop. "Now, everypony, I'm sorry to say this, but I must close early in order to fully clean up. I'll open extra early tomorrow to make up for it."
All the ponies in the shop groaned and muttered to themselves as they slowly filed out of the shop.
But just as I was about to leave, I got a nagging feeling. It was either now or never.
I slowly approached up Cup Cake.
"Pardon me for interrupting, ma'am," I said nervously, "But did you need any help with the clean-up? I feel like I should assist in some way to make up for my mistake."
Cup Cake looked up. I tried to look calm. She was even prettier up close.
She smiled and said "Why, sure! I suppose I could use a little extra help."
I nodded, them grabbed the nearest mop and bucket, and quickly began cleaning. As we cleaned, we made small talk amongst ourselves, until it became a full-blown conversation. We chatted about various things, and it was at that point that I told her about my passion for baking.
I then told her the purpose of my visit to the shop.
"I was hoping we could establish some sort of partnership, maybe work together," I told her, "After all, I couldn't help but notice a Help Wanted sign posted outside."
