Chapter 1: Beanut Butter Jelly Time--SHUT UP
Sunset Shimmer blearily opened her eyes. Faint beams of sunlight peered through closed windowsills.
She rolled her eyes to the side. Her alarm clock looked back, quietly blinking.
7:45 AM.
Not morning. The day hadn’t started. Doesn’t exist. She didn’t have to think about it.
Sunset pulled her bedcovers over her head and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, and slowly released it. This was nice, floating in this warm, aimless ether. No company to think about, no smell of b-- those things. Just quiet, warm----
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Crap. She fell asleep and now it was eight.
With a tired groan she slapped the alarm’s switch and pushed her bedcovers off. She stared at the ceiling with lightly pinked eyes of annoyance. Unfortunately for her sanity, after a few minutes she forced herself off the bed. There was a party coming, and she had a responsibility to carry out.
She changed out of her nightgown, shuffled into the bathroom, shuffled out of the bathroom, ate guaranteed bean-free cereal, and after far too short a time period, her kitchen was cleaned up.
She stood at the side of the fridge and glared into it for a good few minutes before heaving a sigh and opening it.
Rolls of sausages bundled in vacuum wrap greeted her, sitting in rows. Made of soybeans rather than meat to fit the theme, but now they were in her home and she had to touch them voluntarily.
Urgh, she was going to get trauma from this, but the big fat paychecks were pretty hard to ignore.
She gingerly pulled the bags out and laid them out on the kitchen counter, suppressing a flinch, shortly followed by lettuce, cheese, eggs, and a carton of milk. From the pantry came a bag of flour, sugar, yeast, and ketchup.
Time to make a pizza with Beanperoni
Sunset stared at her hands. Oh no, I’m getting infected.
She put on the apron anyways.
Sunset Shimmer turned on the tap, and rinsed the knife blade. Once clean, she cut the water flow, then turned to the cutting board. She brought her knife over, aiming the knife blade over the BEANIS “Grrrrk,” Sunset said, the knife dropping from nerveless fingers.
She rubbed her eyes and looked again at the Soybean Dog. With a heavy sigh, she picked up the knife from the countertop to rinse it again, then got ready to cut.
Ding-Dong! went her doorbell.
Sunset grumbled under her breath and walked to the door. She pulled it open to see Rainbow Dash staring back, a worried expression on her face. She clutched a paper bag in her fingers, twitching uncomfortably.
Sunset grit her teeth, raising a hand to rub her forehead. “Rainbow Dash, why are you--”
“GAAH DON’T STAB ME!” Rainbow screeched, dropping her bag and flinging her hands to the sky.
Sunset blinked, the looked at the knife in her hand. “... Excuse me for a moment.” Sunset put the knife back in the kitchen and walked back. Rainbow Dash was still standing at the door with her bag back in her hands, though now she was almost cowering and hunched over. “Right. Rainbow, why are you here?”
“Promise to hear me out?”
Sunset raised an eyebrow.
Rainbow took a deep breath. “Can I borrow your kitchen I don’t really have enough cooking equipment and I don’t want to make sandwiches and you’re the only one I can think of that will let me finish what I have in time so can I please please--”
Sunset stuck a finger over Rainbow’s lips, making her eyes cross to look at it. “You already have the ingredients?”
The other girl nodded quickly.
Sunset stepped back. “Keep it clean, don’t waste the water, don’t interrupt me. I have my own meal to finish.”
Rainbow saluted. “Yes ma’am.”
Sunset Shimmer finally finished cutting up the soybean dogs, and placed them around a disk of flour and tomato sauce. The flour was sitting on a metal tray that itself was sat on a spinny chair. Sunset found it a lot easier to cover the dough in sauce that way after seeing a similar device while she was buying groceries.
Behind her, Rainbow was cutting up carrots and tossing them into a steaming pot of water. She seemed to be making some sort of soup, but Sunset really didn’t care.
The toppings done, Sunset lifted the dough circle off the chair and into the oven. She punched in the time and heat, and was done for the next few hours. She leaned against the counter and watched Rainbow stir the pot and adjust the heat.
After a moment, some tiny spark of curiosity managed to dig itself out of the bean splattered pile and ask, “Doesn’t Fluttershy have enough for one pot?”
Rainbow gave an embarrassed side grin. “Well, working with beans so much, and getting fucked with beans so much, she kinda has an automatic reaction whenever the smell of beans gets into the air, and the she starts asking to look at my--”
“Say no more,” the spark of curiosity said, rapidly trying to drown itself.
Another half-hour passed, and now Rainbow Dash was spooning the cooled soup into plastic carryout cans. Sunset had moved to the office chair staring blankly into the oven screen.
Rainbow glanced over as she finished packing up her contribution to the office party. With a deep breath, she reached into the bottom of her bag and pulled out a lunchbox. She walked over and tapped Sunset’s shoulder with it. “Here, it’s yours.”
Sunset looked at it, blinking and trying to focus. “You ... could have just brought this tomorrow?”
A faint blush crossed Rainbow’s cheeks. “You looked ... stressed, and I figured that these would make tomorrow a bit more bearable. Plus, I don’t want anyone to steal them before you had your fill.”
“What’s so special about this?” Sunset asked, pulling off the soft lid and peering inside. Plastic-wrapped sandwiches sat at the bottom, slightly soggy from condensation.
“Bread, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, apple slices, bit of mayo. No beans.”
Sunset blinked about, struggling to process words she hasn’t heard spoken by someone else in months. “No ... beans?”
“Yup,” Rainbow grinned, “You looked kinda stressed. I’m having a lot of fun, but I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t notice how much you push yourself to help us. I hope its--”
She was cut off when Sunset wrapped her arms around Rainbow, a tiny trickle of tears staining the athlete’s shirt. “Thank you,” Sunset whispered, her voice unsteady.
Rainbow froze, her eyes bugging out. She uncertainly patted Sunset’s back, then started rubbing when Sunset let out a stifled sob. “So, I’d love to stay, but I need to get these into my fridge.”
Sunset stepped back, vaguely embarrassed. “R-right. You -- you do that,” she mumbled, wiping her cheeks. “I’ll .. I’ll clean the pots for you--”
“Done.”
“Oh. Alright. Well, don’t let me keep you.”
Awkward shuffling.
“See you tomorrow,” Rainbow said, stepping backwards to the door.
Sunset waved. “See you,” she said.
The door closed, leaving the small house quiet once more, save for the quiet ticking of the oven.
Sunset stuck her nose into the lunchbag again, and took a large breath.
No beans.
Author's Note
What is my life
