Twilight hummed a light tune to herself as she walked home from the store. The trip had been a split-second decision after breaking the last of her favorite quills while Spike was busy re-shelving some books. Rather than have her number-one assistant make the trip, she decided to leave him to his work and go herself. Besides, she reasoned, she could also use it as an excuse to get some fresh air (which her friends occasionally told her she needed to do more often).
As she rounded the last corner on her return trip, she heard her name called out from somewhere behind.
“Twilight! Twilight!” yelled the pink blur advancing toward her.
“What is it, Pinkie?” Twilight asked after her friend had come within reasonable speaking distance. Having known Pinkie for as long as she did, the amount of shock she would’ve otherwise experienced had reduced dramatically.
“I really, really, really, need your help with some baking at Sugarcube Corner, it’s really important and Fluttershy said she had to tend to her animals and I couldn’t reach Rainbow Dash because she was napping too high and Rarity said she didn’t want to get flour in her mane and even though I insisted it would wash out she said she couldn’t help so you really gotta help me, Twilight!” The earth pony blurted without pause.
The bookworm in question paused for half a second to interpret the preceding jumbled mass of words. “What about Applejack? Can’t she bake?”
Pinkie looked down and shuffled her hoof a bit. “I think she’s still upset at me after her last surprise party went wrong…and besides, I think the Cakes would still be a bit nervous letting her into the kitchen after what happened last time.”
Twilight shuddered as she remembered the Baked Bads, but then sighed in resignation. “Fine, but can you let me put this stuff away first?” She asked, motioning to the saddlebags filled with her recent purchases.
Pinkie vigorously shook her head. “There’s no time, Twilight! Come on!” She exclaimed before grabbing Twilight’s midsection and dragging her to Sugarcube Corner.
“Can you at least tell me what we’re gonna be baking?” Twilight huffed as they entered the bakery.
“Well, the Cakes are out today, so I thought I’d make them something extra super-duper special to say thanks for letting me stay here for so long!” Pinkie replied with her signature smile.
Twilight blanched a tad. “Is this going to be like last time?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Why?”
“No diaper cakes this time.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Because it took two weeks to get the smell out of the bakery!”
“Well, how was I supposed to know you aren’t supposed to bake those?”
“It wasn’t even made with conventional cake ingredients!”
“Then why do they call it a cake if you’re not supposed to bake it? That’s silly!”
Twilight facehoofed. “Just…let’s just make something else. How about some cupcakes?”
“Cupcakes!” Pinkie gasped, “That’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of that?! You get the eggs and milk from the fridge, and I’ll get everything else together!”
Glad that their end product was settled upon, Twilight walked over to the fridge for her specified ingredients. When she returned, she found herself giving Pinkie a strange look.
“Pinkie, what does a cleaver have to do with making cupcakes?”
The earth pony gave a surprised glance at the blade nestled in her hoof before hastily returning it to a nearby drawer. “Hehe, oh…yeah, silly me!”
Twilight, having read relatively few books on cooking (none of which ever mentioned cleavers and cupcakes within the same page), gave her a skeptical look before shaking her head. “Anyway,” she asked, “What do we do first?”
“You mix all these dry ingredients,” Pinkie shoved a jumble of pre-measured powders in measuring cups to Twilight’s counter space, “And I’ll crack the eggs!”
“All of them at once?” Twilight asked, referring to her ingredients. She got a nod in response. As she grabbed the measuring cups with her magic, her arsenal of kitchen warfare gained the addition of a mixing bowl and spoon from Pinkie Pie.
After pouring the ingredients, Twilight set Chief Spoon to work on Private Mixing Bowl with her magic. She then turned to her friend, who was currently busy making an art out of cracking eggs on the lip of her own bowl.
Pinkie was holding one of the eggs between her hooves, held in place by friction alone. As it hovered above its intended point of impact, Pinkie kept her face, scrunched in concentration, mere inches away.
“So, Pinkie, what are the rest of the steps?” Twilight had found that it paid off to have a plan.
“Well, after I finish beating the eggs, we’ll mix them in with the milk and the dry ingredients you’re mixing.” Pinkie explained as she fine-tuned her shot. “Then after we put it in the trays and everything, it’ll stay in the oven for about an ho-ho-HOUR?! Twilight, what are you doing?!”
The pink baker, in her panic, managed to accidentally project the egg she previously held in the perfect trajectory required for it to land smack on her purple friend’s forehead. Then, as the pink pony brought a hoof down to regain her balance, her hoof managed to catch the edge of the egg carton, launching its cargo like a cardboard catapult.
For the first time in recorded Equestrian history, there was a suspiciously wet, although brief, indoor hailstorm.
Twilight, having been the first direct victim of this historic event, had released her grip on her designated utensil immediately after being hit. After the worst of the storm had passed, she wiped the yolk out of her eyes and looked confusedly at Pinkie, who gave her a glare in return.
“What’d I do?” Twilight hesitantly asked. Whatever it was, it had managed to freak out a pony that normally took everything in stride.
“You were using magic.”
“…And?”
“And, if you use magic when making cupcakes, they don’t come out right! And the more magic you use, the worse they turn out!”
“That doesn’t even make any s-“
“Who’s the professional baker here, Twilight?”
“I just don’t see how-“
“Who. Is. The baker here?” Pinkie pronounced each sentence fragment with a poke of her hoof.
Twilight barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “You…”
“Right, and trust me: there’s a reason most bakers are Earth ponies.”
Twilight looked down in thought for a moment. “Wait, what about Joe back in Canterlot?”
Pinkie waved a hoof. “Pff, that’s just a donut shop. This is a full-fledged bakery, where we make everything from jelly donuts to pecan pies to orange cake!”
“Fine, whatever…” Twilight was certain her friend’s claims were bogus, but decided to go along with it if it meant Pinkie would stay off her case.
“So, anyway,” Pinkie slightly winced, “There’s a slight chance that those may have been the last of the eggs…so, just in case, I’m going to run to the store and grab some more. So, don’t move, I’ll be right back!” With that, she raced out of the building leaving only a split-second blur in her wake.
The purple pony turned to the ingredients, looking them over. Remembering the technicalities of Pinkie’s earlier statement, she walked back to the refrigerator and looked inside. On the middle shelf, hidden behind a carton labeled ‘Purple Stuph’, she spied another half-carton of eggs.
Smiling to herself, she pulled them out and looked for a cookbook. Pinkie had outlined the remaining steps in the process, but had failed to mention the correct baking temperature for their time in the oven.
A bakery ought to have a cookbook somewhere, she reasoned, and a cookbook will surely have the correct temperature listed! Books never fail!
Finally, she spotted a set of bound papers with a picture of a muffin in front. After bringing it down to eye level and opening it, she started skimming through. As she flipped through the pages, she thought back to Pinkie’s warning.
‘The more magic you use, the worse they turn out!’
Magic messing up cupcakes? Ridiculus! How could the magical manipulation of various kitchen utensils affect the physical properties of the batter? She had no doubt that Pinkie had baking experience, but the notion of magic messing up the cupcakes was simply absurd! Ludicrous! Blasphemy! Madness!
…Sparta?
Finally, she found what she was looking for. Closing and returning the book with a content smile, she returned to the counter to finish the confections herself.
Since the dry ingredients were already mixed, she decided to start with the eggs. This proved difficult, however, as she attempted to mimic her friend’s method of holding the eggs with her hooves.
Sheesh, Pinkie made this look easy! Twilight thought to herself after several failed attempts. She had dropped it so many times that she was surprised the egg hadn’t broken by now.
Twilight stopped as an idea crossed her mind. A little magic couldn’t hurt that much…right?
Pinkie Pie skipped into Sugarcube Corner, her thoughts occupied with all the wonderriffic ways she could arrange the streamers for the Cakes in the main room.
Oh, and she had the eggs.
I wonder what Twilight did during the scene transition? Oh well, only one way to find out! she pondered to herself as she bounced over the counter toward the kitchen doors.
“I’m back Twilight! Hey, where did the ingredients go?” she asked after bounding through the saloon-style doors and noticing the relatively empty counter.
“I found some eggs in the fridge and went through the steps myself,” was Twilight’s response from behind a newspaper. “They should be ready any minute now.”
Pinkie looked down in confusion. “But I’ve only been gone a few minutes…” she murmured, “How could you have…”
Although Pinkie couldn’t see it, Twilight let out a small victory smile from behind her reading material. There was no way that using magic had messed up the batch, and she was about to prove it to her friend as soon as the baking was done.
After a few seconds of silent reading (or thinking, in Pinkie’s case), the pink pony finally spoke up. “Twilight…you didn’t use magic…did you?”
Twilight lowered her newspaper (she had found an interesting science article about something called ‘atoms’) with her smug look still on her face. “Yes, Pinkie, I did.” She said with an air of confidence. “I used it for the eggs, mixing the ingredients, pouring the batter, and even augmented the oven with a spell to make it cook faster without simply scorching the outside. And, as you’ll see within a few minutes’ time, I assure you it had absolutely no effect on the outcome of the cupcakes.” Twilight practically beamed, patiently waiting for the confections to finish so she could get to the part every know-it-all loves: the part where she proved she was right.
Pinkie, for her part, simply looked at her friend with a horrified look that had only gotten worse as her list went on. “Twilight, are you CRAZY?! I told you that magic would make it worse, not-“ She was cut off by a ding from the oven.
“Ah, there we are!” Twilight exclaimed as the opened the oven and levitated the cupcakes out. Having the foresight that they were fresh out of the oven, she cast her forty-second spell on the finished cupcakes and cooled them down enough to eat.
“Eat it and weep.” She said with a continued air of confidence, taking one of the confections for herself.
The two ponies bit in at the same time.
Pinkie’s worried look quickly turned into one of a mixture of shock and disgust, while Twilight’s simply swapped from one of confidence to one of confusion. They were delicious, of course, but the flavor seemed a tad off.
In fact, Twilight thought, if I didn’t know better, I could swear they’re almost…stale?
During Twilight’s brief internal monologue, Pinkie Pie had spit out her bite of cupcake (in the trash, of course. Being slightly crazy didn’t mean she had to be uncivil, after all), discarded of the rest, and returned her gaze to her purple friend with a serious, but patient, look.
“I don’t get it.” Twilight said, her gaze fixed on the flawed treat in her grasp. “It should have come out perfectly…”
Knowing an opportunity when she saw it, Pinkie shoved her face into Twilight’s own. “It’s because you used magic when you made them! I told you, Twilight, if you use magic while making cupcakes, they don’t turn out right! Luckily, we still have enough leftover ingredients for another batch, so we can try again! If we hurry, we can get them in the oven in time for them to be cooled off when the Cakes arrive!” she said in her usual energetic manner, though Twilight couldn’t help but notice it was ever so slightly subdued…
The unicorn sighed. “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”
“Okie Dokie Lokie!”
“So, Pinkie, if you don’t mind me asking, where are the Cakes today?”
The two bakers had re-done the steps and were currently mixing the batter to the correct consistency. During that time, they had said rather little to each other. Twilight had used the silence to replay her actions on the first batch to try and locate the problem.
“The twins were getting a little restless, so the Cakes decided to take the day off and head over to the park. They asked if I wanted to come, too, but I decided to say here and watch over Sugarcube Corner. I decided to do something extra nice for them since today’s the anniversary of me moving in with them! I guess they just forgot, though, since they didn’t mention it. Oh, well, at least now it’ll be an even bigger surprise!”
“Is this good, Pinkie?” Twilight asked, ceasing her hoof-done stirring for a moment to let her baking buddy observe her work.
“Looks good to me!” The senior baker chirped. “So, anyway, then I went out looking for Fluttershy and actually I think I told you this part already so now you’re all caught up!”
Twilight gave a neutral hum in response as she brought the cupcake tray over with her mouth. During her previous musing, she had come to the conclusion that the unfavorable outcome of the previous batch could’ve been caused by any number of things: from not stirring some of the ingredients correctly to a slight (however unlikely) miscalculation on the oven’s spell.
The earth pony prepared to pour the batter as her unicorn assistant held the tray steady. This latest batch was made with the last of the ingredients, and neither of them wanted to waste a single drop.
Pinkie spared a glance at the clock. “Oooh, this is gonna be close…”
Twilight cast a look of her own at the timepiece on the wall. She had no idea when the Cakes were expected to return, but Pinkie was obviously worried about time constraints.
“You know, Pinkie,” Twilight started as the earth pony filled the last space, “If you’re really worried about running out of time, I could just cook them with my magic.”
Pinkie set down the bowl and gave her a look.
“It’d be much faster…” Twilight gave a sheepish smile.
“Did you not learn anything from last time?”
“But I used Celestia-knows-how-many spells on that batch!” she countered, “This’ll only be one!”
“No, Twilight. No magic on the cupcakes.”
“But why not? All you’ve given me is a vague warning and the only ‘proof’ you have is a stale batch of cupcakes that could’ve had any number of causes! You expect me to believe that magic will mess up a few cupcakes?!” Twilight couldn’t help but notice her eye twitch.
“Yes.” Pinkie replied without batting an eye.
“But that doesn’t even make any sense!” Another twitch.
“I’m the one with more baking experience, Twilight, so you’ll just have to trust me.”
Twilight looked down, giving the situation yet another once over, desperately looking for something, anything that she might have missed that would make everything click into place.
“No.” Twilight finally said, her voice suddenly calm and shaking her head slightly. “No. I refuse to believe that. There is no possible way that that is how it works…and I’ll prove it to you!” Twilight finished with a slightly manic tone, abruptly turning her attention to the pan in question.
“Twilight, no!” Pinkie yelled as her friend’s horn started to light up.
The unicorn closed her eyes in concentration. After a moment, she could almost feel the heat from her spell radiating all the way from the pan to where she stood. Just a second more, and- “Oof!”
Pinkie, in a desperate attempt to stop her friend, dove in to tackle her. Twilight, in her slightly crazed state, lost her grip on the spell, causing the cupcakes to overheat and only make the situation worse.
The irony was lost on both ponies as the batter in the tray promptly exploded, creating a nice, smooth layer over every available surface. The bakers simply lay in their newfound position on the floor, unmoving.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Twilight rubbed the offending substance away from her eyes with a hoof.
The batter was everywhere. Cabinets, counters, the sink – even the refrigerator wasn’t spared. Twilight estimated it would take an entire day just to clean the ceiling alone.
“Pinkie, I…I’m s-“
“No…no, it’s alright…” Pinkie softly interrupted, clearing her own eyes.
Twilight nearly let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Pinkie had some back-up ingredients stored somewhere, like the eggs? It certainly wasn’t out of the question. She may have even had-
Pinkie let out a sniffle.
Oh, no. Oh, nononononono!
“Pinkie, I-“ Twilight started again.
“No,” Pinkie interrupted once again, this time with a hoof, “It’s alright…I’ll just find something else to do for the Cakes…” She got up and took a few steps away from Twilight, examining the disaster before her.
“Pinkie, I’m really-“
“Twilight, I…I think it’s best if you just leave. I can clean this up by myself.” Pinkie said dejectedly. Twilight couldn’t be sure, but she almost swore she saw Pinkie’s hair deflate a bit as if it were a balloon.
Twilight opened and closed her mouth a few times, but said nothing. At a loss of anything else to say, she turned to exit the bakery, grabbing her saddlebags, spared from the blast due to being on the other side of the wall, on the way out.
Before she reached the door, she couldn’t help but hear an almost inaudible sigh come from the kitchen.
“Aren’t you going to apologize to her?”
“I already said I was sorry, Spike. I just lost control of a spell.”
“I know that. I meant the part about assuming she was wrong.”
“But she was wrong, Spike! I already told you, to think magic negatively affects the outcome of a batch of cupcakes is ridiculous!”
“I thought you didn’t read very many books on cooking?” Spike grabbed a tome off one of the library’s many shelves.
“I haven’t, but I have enough common sense to know an old mare’s tale when I see it!”
“Can you at least double-check before you assume she’s wrong?” Spike asked, sliding the book in his claws onto the table Twilight was sitting at.
Twilight read the title with a confused look. “The Haunted Lamppost of Stirrup Street? What does this have to do with anything?”
“Wha-?” Spike glanced at the book he had just laid down, then back to the shelf he had pulled it from. “Whoops, one second…” With a sheepish smile, he brought the book back and returned with a different one.
“Baking for Eggheads? Spike, don’t tell me you believe her?”
“I’m not saying that, I’m saying you should check first before you say she’s wrong.” He shoved the book half an inch closer. “Come on, Twilight, please?”
“Fine, but only to prove to you – and Pinkie by extension – that you’re wrong.” Twilight opened the book, and her confidence wavered as she noticed the first item in the Table of Contents.
Warning for Unicorns…
Pg.5
Perhaps it was a coincidence. It was probably something about handling eggs or some standard-esque warning about the possible dangers of using levitation.
Or, Twilight mused, Maybe it’s a warning to ignore Pinkie’s theories. She smiled at the thought.
Twilight dove headfirst, so to speak, into the section. It was so full of science-y words and detailed explanations that it was almost over Twilight’s head. Almost.
As she proceeded through the two pages the warning took up, her expression gradually fell. When she reached the end, she simply lowered the book down and stared at a few nearby air molecules in shock.
Pinkie was right.
“Uh, Twilight? You’ve been staring like that for a few minutes, now…I’m starting to get worried.” She didn’t answer.
Pinkie was right.
Spike waved a claw in front of his friend’s face. “Hello? Equestria to Twilight? Anypony home?”
Pinkie was right!
How?!
She shook her head. She knew how, she had just read it, for pony’s sake! Pinkie had been right, but all this time…
“Spike,” Twilight set her brow in determination, but left her gaze unchanged. “Start making a list. I know what I’ve gotta do.”
Spike smiled, and then rushed off to grab some parchment and a quill.
Pinkie hung her head and panted as the shoved a punch bowl into place. Cleaning the kitchen had taken the better part of an hour, and had proven to be far more labor-intensive than she had initially thought.
Then there were the streamers. Pinkie would never admit it to anypony, but streamers were her least favorite decoration. Not that they weren’t pretty – far from it. In fact, streamers could change the entire mood of a room from ‘Meh’ to ‘Wow!’. Instead, her problem with the strips of paper was that they were an absolute pain to put up. Taping stuff to the roof with hooves was harder than it looked.
She looked up and gave Sugarcube Corner’s main room another once-over. A few tables, adorned with pink tablecloths, held punch, party favors, and some candy. In lieu of the fresh-baked cupcakes she had hoped to provide, she had put out yesterday’s unsold confections. She hoped the Cakes wouldn’t notice.
The walls had various star and polka dot stickers, and even a space for Pin the Tail on the Pony.
Everything was in order. She sat in the middle of the room, faced the door, put on her best smile, and waited.
Mr. Cake was just about ready to turn in for the day. A day at the park, while fun, had proven to be quite tiresome, and although he didn’t say anything, he was already starting to feel a familiar weight in his eyelids as he struggled to keep them open.
His wife, on the other hoof, was wearing the signs of her exhaustion quite visibly. He imagined the walk back home wasn’t exactly doing her any favors.
“Could you get the door, Dearie?” Cup Cake said with a labored breath. Pumpkin Cake, on her back, simply blinked.
“Of course, Honey Bun.” Pound Cake, on Carrot Cake’s back, hugged his daddy’s neck and laughed in delight as they sped up.
As all four Cakes entered the bakery, the door shutting behind them, they were only able to get a fleeting glimpse of the room inside before their eyes and ears were assaulted.
“SURPRISE!”
Pink. Streamers. Tables. Stickers. Noisemakers. Party horns. Party hats. Music.
Carrot Cake simply blinked as his brain processed the wave of information his senses were feeding it. Pinkie was known to throw a party at any time of day for any reason with almost no warning at all. Mr. Cake half expected her to start pouting and say she was expecting somepony else. It wouldn’t be the first time.
After a second of silence, though, her smile remained strong. Behind her, he spied a banner hanging from the ceiling that read ‘Thank You!’.
“What’s the occasion this time, Pinkie?” Mrs. Cake asked. Rather than get dejected by her query, Pinkie’s smile only seemed to grow even larger, despite Carrot’s mental cries about it being physically impossible.
“Today’s the anniversary of me moving in with you guys so I wanted to throw you a super-special private party to show my appreciation and say ‘THANK YOU’! I put out punch and candy and did everything I could do to out-do myself just for you! Do ya like it? Huh? Huh? Huh?”
Carrot Cake sighed a little. He had just spent the entire day with two rambunctious little foals that never seemed to run out of energy. Then again, Pinkie had spent the entire day alone at the bakery. He smiled. She deserved some time, too.
“Alright, Pinkie.” He said wearily. “For you.” Celestia knows I’m going to need sugar to stay awake, though. he added internally.
Pinkie grabbed a party horn out of nowhere and blew it. “Then let’s PARTY!”
About the time the two foals reached the candy at the far end of the room (an estimated two seconds), there was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Mr. Cake wondered aloud.
“I don’t think I invited anyone else…” Pinkie murmured as she approached the door.
When she opened it, she was greeted by the sight of a purple pony levitating a box of what appeared to be cupcakes next to herself.
“Twilight?” Pinkie arched an eyebrow. She hadn’t expected her friend to get over her fit of insanity-rage for at least another week.
“Hey, Pinkie. Can I come in?” Twilight asked, noticeably less twitchy and insane-looking than Pinkie thought she would be.
“I guess?” Pinkie responded, letting her friend pass and silently checking for hidden signs of insanity. Mr. Cake simply observed the scene with an air of slight curiosity. The foals had even stopped stuffing their faces with sugar to see what was going on.
As Twilight trotted in, she set the box she had with her, previously unseen by Carrot Cake, on the counter.
“Are those cupcakes?” He asked, taking a step forward. He knew that if anything would give him a moderate dose of sugar that was just enough to last the rest of the day, it was a nice, fresh-baked cupcake.
Pinkie’s eyes widened as she moved to make a personal barricade in Mr. Cake’s path. “WAIT- Uh, I mean, don’t you wanna try some games, first? Or maybe some punch? Or maybe you could pick out a record to play – on the OTHER side of the room?” The pink pony had one of the largest forced smiles on her face – a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Carrot Cake.
“Pinkie, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “But there’s no way I’m going to be able to stay awake through all this unless I eat something with sugar in it.”
Pinkie’s face turned to an expression of horror for a moment before she moved out of the way and hid under her hooves for some reason unknown to Carrot Cake. He chalked it up to Pinkie Pie just being Pinkie Pie.
He neared the box and took one out. It was chocolate with a deep blue icing. He licked his lips in anticipation. Being a baker had the nasty side effect of causing ponies to develop a mean sweet tooth.
As he brought the cupcake to his mouth, he glanced down at Pinkie Pie and saw her looking at the confection in terror. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and bit in.
For a moment, all was still in the bakery as Mr. Cake chewed his bite of cupcake. He let it roll over his taste buds, searching for any imperfections in a way only an experienced baker could.
Twilight was smiling a confident smile. Pinkie still looked horrified. Mrs. Cake still looked exhausted. Pumpkin Cake was trying to snap her brother out of a trance by waving a hoof in his face, but to no avail. There was a slight draft, he noticed with a bit of irritation, due to somepony leaving the door wide open.
He swallowed, returning his gaze to the two young mares in front of him who seemed to be waiting for something from him. What, though, he couldn’t fathom.
“Mmm, that was pretty good! Did you make these yourself, Twilight?”
Pinkie put on an expression of disbelief, as if she were trying to think of any alternate explanation than the one presented by her landlord.
“Yep!” Twilight beamed.
Pinkie cautiously pulled a cupcake of her own out of the box, giving it a scrutinizing eye before taking a small testing-to-check-there’s-no-poison bite.
She looked to Twilight in disbelief. “Twilight? You…you made these by hoof?”
The unicorn in question reached a hoof up and flexed her ankle. “I’m a little sore…but it was worth it.” She smiled. “Can you forgive me?”
Pinkie smiled in kind. Twilight thought she saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but didn’t have enough time to confirm as she was immediately caught in a pink vice grip of a hug.
Carrot Cake arched an eyebrow, even more confused than before.
Did I miss something?
Dear Princess Celestia,
Today I learned that it’s important to listen to your friend’s knowledge, especially if it’s in an area you aren’t familiar with. When my friend Pinkie told me something new, I told her she was wrong because it didn’t make any sense to me, without checking to see which of us was right.
When you do this, you can easily turn a fun activity into an action you later regret. It’s important to trust a friend’s judgment, and have faith that they know what they’re talking about. And you never know – whether it makes sense to you or not, your friend may just be right.
Your Faithful Student,
Twilight Sparkle