This was it, your life was over before it could really begin. The Cakes were going to stomp you into ground meat and Pinkie would fry it with her disappointing gaze, making a delicious Failure Burger. A dozing Pumpkin Cake was lightly bouncing in the twin papoose you had draped around your torso as you and Scootaloo sped around the park, desperately searching for her brother. Your only clue was a face down cone on the ground next to the stroller, so the two of you thought that finding Mr Scoop would be the best bet.

“Pound Ca--!” Scootaloo starts to yell, but you quickly cup a hand over her snout. Her nose scrunches at your action.

“The enthusiasm is great Scoot, but if other ponies catch wind that we lost one of the most popular babies in town I’m going to be toast that much sooner.” Scootaloo frowns, but nods in agreement as you let go of her snout.

“Sorry, Mr Anon.” She says sadly, “Wish I could fly so we could find him faster…”

You knew the kid was super self-conscious about not being able to fly like the other fillies her age, and the predicament she’s helping you with wasn’t helping her either.

“Aw Scoot, don’t be like that,” you say as you squat down to her level, “We’ll get this done just as well on the ground. We just have to put our heads together, because if this kid can fly he’s clearly not in the park anymore. Do you know where the ice cream guy goes after he’s done selling?”

“Well, he’s a pretty popular guy, so usually he runs out around this time and has to go restock for the lunch rush,” she says with a hoof on her chin, “Oh! I know where he is!” and she takes off down the road in a sprint.

You start to race after her, but even for a filly she’s still a damn horse, so she was about as fast as an elite running athlete, and let’s just say cardio wasn’t your forte.

“Where are we--huff--going?” you pant as you try to catch up with her. Your fat ass needs to start running more. Scootaloo slows down a bit for your benefit though so your lungs don’t collapse.

“Mr Scoop has a big booth at the carnival where he sells ice cream too, but in the offseason he just uses it to hold all his ice cream for his cart! I’m sure we’ll find him there!” It was your best bet at finding Pound Cake, so with burning lungs, you tried your best to keep pace with the reinvigorated filly.

Mr Scoop, already back at his booth in the shutdown carnival, wheels the cart inside and pulls new tubs of ice cream out of the big freezer inside and rotates his inventory for later in the day. As he does so Pound Cake peeks inside the booth, eyes fixated on the cart that held his prize. He wasn’t going to get a baby cone this time, no. He was going to get the biggest big boy cone he could because the world cheated him out of his first one, he deserved compensation!

Slinking inside, Pound Cake is very nearly seen by Mr Scoop as the stallion finishes up his duties and closes his cart. Luckily for him, he ducks under a sink just before he’s spotted. The stallion gives a weary sigh and takes off his hat and apron, hanging them on a rack on the wall.

“Damn I’m hungry, hopefully the Stables has the fryers on by now, I’m fixing for a big bucking order of hay fries.” To Pound Cake’s surprise, Mr Scoop had quite the potty mouth. Pound watches carefully as he sees Mr Scoop check something with the door, and listens carefully as the hoof steps disappear in the distance.

Now there was nothing but him, and his prize.

In no short time the road took you to a far side of Ponyville where the carnival grounds stood, looming Ferris Wheel and roller coaster in the distance. Pinkie took you here when you first arrived to indulge you in the fun side of Ponyville after you watched the Running of the Leaves, and at the time it was vibrant and filled both adult and foal with energy and good times. Now with the huge cast-iron gate blocking your way and everything shut down until this fall, even during the day it gave you Scooby Doo vibes. This gate wouldn’t be a problem for a baby who could fly though.

“Aw man, now we’ll never get over!” Scootaloo whines.

“Hmm, we might not be able to fly over, but we can climb it like good old fashioned delinquents!” You say, trying to lighten her spirits.

“Uhh Mr Anon, hooves aren’t exactly too good of climbing tools, and I’d definitely break my teeth on that thing.” She had a point. But you had a solution already in mind to that too.

“I’m not thinking about how good you are at flying, or climbing. But how good are you at falling?”

You held Scootaloo in one hand like a tomboyish javelin, and sticking your thumb out you test the direction of the wind. Blowing in the direction you’re throwing, perfect weather elements for stupid, stupid ideas. Or genius ones, depending on how this turns out, she seemed pretty into it when you suggested it.

“Now Scoot, are you sure you’re up for this? We can figure out something else if you aren’t up for the Fastball Special.”

She grins excitedly, “I’m sure Mr Anon! I might not be able to fly yet but I sure can glide!” At least she was having fun with it.

“Alright Scoot, get ready then! Three!”

She straightens out like a needle.

“Two!”

Her little wings extend out as far as they can muster.

“One!”

You chuck her over the fence in a tall arc, and just as she breaches the peak of the sharp fencing and starts to dip, the wind catches under her wings. She smoothly glides downwards on an invisible slope, and like a cute orange paper airplane she skids along the ground. It would have been damn impressive had she not made her front legs stiff and face planted in the dirt. But despite that she jumps up and cheers giddily like a kid on Christmas.

“Woohoo! Let’s do it again, do it again!” she says beaming with a dust covered face.

You grip the bars and start to begin your own ascent, “We got a kid to find first Scoot.”

Her expression falters, “Oh yeah. Can we do it later though?”

“Sure thing kid, I’ll toss you around all day to pay you back for helping out.” You reach the peak of the fencing yourself, large arrowheads threatening to pierce your soft bits. As you think about how you’re going to tackle this obstacle, you feel yourself being pulled away from the fencing. Your body instinctively braces itself for impact and you let out a scared yelp, but nothing happens. Making yourself aware of your surroundings you find yourself floating mid air, enveloped by an orange glow.

You assume all the jostling caused Pumpkin Cake to wake up again, and needless to say you were extremely surprised to see her able to use her magic like this in the first place. What do they feed these kids?

There wasn’t any time to ponder that as you found yourself lifted over the gate by the foal’s magic, you hoped that the tyke was strong enough to carry you all the way to safety. However, the universe works against you once again as the dust that Scootaloo kicked up made its way to Pumpkin’s nostrils, and even though the sneeze would have been cute the literal ass pain it caused you upon impact took up more of your attention.

No time to assess the damage though, and once again you follow Scootaloo down the path. Lo and behold, the Ice Cream Shack stood clean and dust free in the midst of it’s dirty building brethren, but you find the door on the side of the booth swung wide open. The booth itself had a metal shade pulled down on the front blocking your view, but you could definitely hear rummaging sounds coming from within.

“Ok Scoot, here’s the plan,” you say in a whisper, “I’m going to go in and try and corner him, you shut the door if he gets slippery.”

“Got it,” the little filly says determinedly.

The two of you sneak as quietly as possible until you are both on either side of the entrance, giving the nod to Scootaloo you make your way inside. Sure enough Pound Cake had gotten himself into the cart that had been left behind by its owner, and with his upper half exiting the cart was a very adult sized ice cream cone with an extra large scoop of several flavors haphazardly slapped together with baby hooves.

“Brudda!” Pumpkin Cake cheers from the papoose. Shit, you forgot babies weren’t fans of subtlety. Or general silence.

Pound Cake had been caught red handed, and this little foal wasn’t going to be taken alive as you suspected. Clutching the cone in hand he uses his puttering little wings to bolt for the door, but you were not one to be underestimated! You manage to get a hold of one of his hooves just as he tries to pass overhead.

“Gotcha!” You yell triumphantly. Just as you say that however you find yourself being lifted from the ground, and you soon find yourself being swung around the room as the foal flies in circles to desperately escape your hands like you were a stuffed animal tied to a ceiling fan. Pumpkin Cake screams with glee as you fly around the room knocking over various items, and try as you might you feel yourself slipping. With one last swing Pound Cake manages to send you smashing into the metal curtain that covers the main opening of the booth back first, and the impact manages to make the sheet to slightly cave into itself. How fucking strong were these horses if babies can do this?

“Scootaloo, the door!” You wheeze as Pound Cake makes his getaway.

“Got it!” She yells as she kicks the door closed with all her might, but the immobile door sends a shock up her body as the force she hit it with comes back to her. Pound Cake zips out of the booth and flies further down the park to get away from the two of you.

Prying yourself free of the indent, you run outside and see Scootaloo rubbing her sore hooves as Pound Cake gets further and further away.

“Scootaloo, I told you to get the door!”

“I did! But it didn’t move!”

“How could it not--” and as you say that you see the reason as to why it’s stuck, “You didn’t flip up the door stop?” you say incredulously.

“I’m ten, cut me some slack!” She retorts angrily.

“I… there’s no time, come on!” You say as the two of you take off after the foal.

The two of you jump and try your damndest to grab ahold of the foal as he ducks and weaves out of reach at the last second, and while the foal didn’t seem to tire, you two sure were and you were getting desperate.

“Mr Anon, throw me again!” Scootaloo yells as she matches your pace.

“Do you really think now is the time--oh yeah!” You realize as you scoop the filly into your arms and take aim. Your aim was dead on as the filly took to the sky once more, tucking in her wings slightly on the descent to accelerate towards Pound Cake, and while she doesn’t manage to tackle him she nicks him good on the way down. The foal spins out of the air and takes a hard landing on the butt as Scootaloo hits the ground and rolls a distance away, and in a stroke of his luck he manages to perfectly catch the melty cone out of the air before it went splat again. But his luck had just run out, as you find you have him proverbially pinned against the looming Ferris Wheel directly behind him.

Pound Cake frantically looks around for a means of escape, but it seemed hopeless. Scootaloo was already on her feet again and creeping up behind him, and you inched towards him slowly as well.

“Come on Pound, it doesn’t have to end like this. Give it up and I’ll make sure Mommy and Daddy go easy on you.” You warn the child sternly. Pound Cake whimpers in response, and shoots straight up into the air.

“Get him!” You yell, and you both dive towards him at the same time only to face plant into one another as he manages to be missed by the skin of his baby teeth. After the daze wears off you see Pound Cake fly up to one of the higher cars of the Ferris Wheel and disappear inside.

“Alright buster, play time is officially over!” you yell angrily at the wheel, “No more Mr Nice Anon! Hold Pumpkin for me, Scoot!” you say as you drape the papoose over her neck, Pumpkin clapping her hooves in delight of the fun ride she had.

It was a treacherous climb, but being in a rage makes you do crazy things without fear as within minutes you had already scaled the wheel halfway. As you gripped the inner workings of the wheel you managed to quickly climb to the car the child was stowed away in, and the munching sounds you heard from within made you even more steamed as the child was blissfully unaware of your plight.

You pull yourself up enough to the open car to see Pound Cake sitting on the floor of it, absolutely covered head to hoof in ice cream. It would be cute under any other circumstance and probably funny if someone else had to deal with this, but you were in no mood to feel neither thing.

“There you are!” You growl. Pound Cake gasps and scoots to the farthest corner of the car, at the very least he seems to finally be done with flying away.

“Come on kid, I’m just trying to do this for Pinkie, you like Pinkie don’t you? You want to make Pinkie happy? You can do that by being a good boy and making me happy by coming down!” You say with a forced smile. Your sanity was hanging by a thread and this was the last time you were going to try coercing him nicely.

The baby sizes you up for a moment, and turns his nose up at you, “You no Pinkie,” he says tucking back into his ice cream. That tears it!

“Listen kid,” you say hoisting one knee into the car, “You’re coming with me whether you like it or--ah!” You weren’t paying too much attention to the fact that the kid had basically painted the inside of the car with melted ice cream too, so as you tried to use your knee to push the rest of your body inside you slip and fall out of the car, plummeting to your doom.

“MR ANON!” Scootaloo screams in horror.

Pound Cake knew something bad would happen if he didn’t do something! He didn’t think he’d ever think this, but no amount of ice cream is worth this!

Pound zoomed out of the car as fast as he could and made a beeline for you, grabbing ahold of one of your hands he tried to pull you up with all of his might, but the last bout with you left him almost completely drained.

Even in a panicked state knowing you’re probably going to die, you pull the pegasus close to your chest in a tight embrace so he hopefully doesn’t bite it alongside you. The wind whistling in your ears you think of all the moments you held dear to you in this world, the friendships you’ve made, the love you almost had, you were determined to spend your last moment alive thinking of… wait, it’s taking an awful long time to hit the ground.

Opening your eyes you find yourself bathed in an orange glow, and craning your neck from your frozen position you see a happy Pumpkin Cake beaming from her neat trick she just did as Scootaloo hid her eyes.

“You… are officially… my favorite child.” You say to the baby. As you say that she stops the spell she was using to hold you, and you hit the ground ass first.

Ow.

Scootaloo ended up following you back to the Corner after getting the kids re-strapped into their stroller, the two of you looking completely drained of life after the harrowing ordeal.

“Well son, seems you did a bang up job sitting the foals! How was your day my little sweeties?~” Mr Cake says nuzzling their tummies affectionately.

“Well…” you pause, did you really want to go into detail about your day today? The boy ain’t right, that’s for sure, but the fact that he at least tried to save your life and the pleading look he’s giving you now at least give the minimum indication that he was sorry. All over some ice cream too. You decide to call it an impasse, because if the kid is advanced enough to feel regret he’ll know that he owes you one for what you’re about to do.

“We were at the park the entire day pretty much, Scootaloo showed up after a while and we had some ice cream and played games.” You half-lie.

“Ooo! What didja play Nonny?” Pinkie asks, appearing on your back in piggyback fashion.

“Catch.” Scootaloo deadpans.

“Oh well that sounds swell!” Mr Cake says in delight, “Pound Cake didn’t try to slip away at all did he? Ever since he learned to fly he’s been quite the little escape artist!” he chuckles nervously. Pound Cake looked even more nervous than his father.

“He sure tried,” you say tussling his hair (more roughly than you intended), “But other than that he was a good kid. His sister was a super star though,” and you scratch under her chin which makes her coo happily.

“He’s a little rascal alright! But it’s good to hear they were behaving all day, otherwise I wouldn’t think you’d want to babysit them again!”

Aw shit, you were hoping he wouldn’t ask. All of the gold coins in Equestria couldn’t--

“That sounds super duper ooper fun!” Pinkie says elated in your ear, “Maybe next time Nonny and I can babysit together! We could be the best two nannies in Ponyville!” she gasps, “You could even be called Nanny Nonny, Nonny! Ha!”

Even at your most drained, Pinkie manages to get a laugh out of you, a good one too. Scootaloo even laughs a bit at the funny moniker.

Oh, the things you do for love.

“I don’t know, are you guys going to be this good every other time I babysit?” You ask the babies, more pointedly so at Pound Cake. He vigorously nods his head and his sister cheers with delight from her seat.

“Then I guess it’s official!” You say, “Put me on the permanent nanny list.”

“Hooray!” Pinkie says as she swings around your body and wraps you in a tight hug. Her mane in your face assaulted your senses with the scent of vanilla and the feeling of cotton candy brushing your face, and that alone made you feel that much better. You hugged her back much more tightly than you were expecting to, and the feeling of a sharp breath of hers pressing against your embrace could be felt. Maybe it was the fact you almost died that probably makes you pretty clingy to other living things.

“Uh, Mr Anon can we go back to the park now?” Scootaloo asks poking your leg. You and Pinkie let go of the hug after realizing it had reached an awkward span of time, both unaware of how furiously the two of you were blushing because you sheepishly turned away from each other.

You and Scootaloo went back to the park under the pretense of throwing her like a football for a while longer, but the two of you ended up passing out underneath the same tree she found you at at the beginning of the day. You both decided to take a rain check on that play date and headed your separate ways after waking much later.

Pinkie Pie braided Pumpkin Cake’s mane and regaled her with more tales about how awesome her special friend Anon was, as per their almost nightly ritual before bedtime while Pound Cake got into more mischief.

Mr Scoop came back from his lunch break to find his booth ransacked as if a wild animal had gotten loose in it, but the small mountain of bits left behind made him feel a bit better about the damages. He vowed to close the door behind him from now on.

Candles and incense burned softly in royal bedchambers far off in the distance as a princess of the night prepared for her nightly duties uplifting the dreams of her little ponies, and getting to the bottom of one particular non-pony that has been piquing her suspicion for too long.

Author's Note

What's this? A new chapter? This soon? Hell yeah, bro! Enjoy!
Feeling a lot more motivated to write new chapters now that I've gotten through the drag of introductory chapters and can actually get into the meat of things, and you can bet that the next chapter is coming real soon!