"And then I said, 'I guess I'll have to wing it, Breeze!' which was not my best pun but one of my favorites, and then he just passed out on me! How rude was that? So I took the wing off and that's the story of how I made the cupcake I knocked you out with."

Pinkie Pie barely caught notice that her latest captive was freed from her restraints and sitting up; she was mostly focused on cleaning the supplies at the table.

"Anyway! You should be awake now. In fact--" Pinkie's tail lifted straight up in the air "My Pinkie Sense is indicating that you're more than ready."

When she turned around, though, she was met with her latest meal sitting up and staring at her with crazed eyes that somehow looked bored through the chaotic, madness-fueled swirls of pink and blue.

"Oh. Yeah. You're awake." Pinkie clucked her tongue. "Why don't you, uh, lay back down?"

"No." Her voice was girlish and high-pitched, but had some sort of professionalistic tone to it.

"Oh." Pinkie Pie pouted. There was a heavy silence between them for a while.

"The cupcake tasted good."

"What?"

"I said it tasted good."

"I don't understand. It's supposed to make one gag to the point where they're distracted to the point that I have to take them out. If it tasted good, why did you let me take you out? That's just weird. I'd run for my life if I were you."

"I pretended."

"Why? You could have ran and told everybody. You could have had me arrested and then everyone would hate me and even worse, I won't have anything to make cupcakes with and that would suck so please don't tell -"

"I like flesh, too."

The silence between them got twenty percent more awkward. The bored mare cleared her throat. "I was really interested in why you gave me a cupcake with pony flesh in it. So I let myself get knocked out because I wanted to find out more."

"Oh. Huh. So you're an investigative journalist."

"No."

"Then what are you?"

"Um." She looked at her captor. "Candy?"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

When will the silence end??????? Pinkie thought to herself.

It ended when the mare made of candy asked, "Do you have more 'Breeze' to eat?"

§

A spoon clinked on a bowl of ice cream sprinkled with innards. The mare that Pinkie now knew was made of candy had a blanket wrapped around her thin, yet muscle-y shoulders (which were made clear by gumballs. Lots of them.)

"So, I understand and then I don't." She sighed. "You were going to make me into cupcakes. Correct?"

Pinkie shrank against the display case, where she stood across from the mare. "Maybe??????"

"I'll take that as a yes. Next. How did you acquire such a taste?"

Pinkie felt as if she were at a therapy appointment. "Um." She might as well prepare for it, so she pulled a small loveseat from behind the counter and laid on her back. "Well, it all started with -"

The mare looked more and more confused as Pinkie rambled about how she "accidentally" bit one of her sisters and liked the taste of blood and figured that she could test on Zephyr Breeze because one, he might taste minty and two, he was being very annoying at the moment, and she also said that she bought the loveseat from the Apples and it did great for impromptu therapy sessions.

"The apples?"

"What? The Apples. Yeah. Applejack and Applebloom and Big Mac and Granny Smith and about a bajillion more but mostly those four."

"That's strange."

"What?"

"I've never heard anyone named after food except for me."

"Well, I'm named Pinkie Pie. Wait. What's your name?"

"The Candy Mare."

"Wow. Does it come with the 'The'?"

"Um...no? You can call me Candy if that helps."

"No, I think the other one sounds more epic."

"Oh. Okay." Candy slurped down the last bit of melted bloody ice cream, laid her head on the table, and groaned. "That tasted amazing."

"I know, right?"

"Do you have more? Like...ponies?"

"Whole ponies?"

"Yeah."

Pinkie hmmed. "About that. I'm having trouble luring ponies in."

"You're saying that you don't have any extras?"

"No. Dashie was the first one, and then after that I ran out of melatonin so I used super gross food like ice cream and hamburger buns but that barely surprised anyone enough for me to take them out so I made more Dashie cupcakes and I still couldn't hit them in the back of the head before they sprinted out and gave me a bad review on Yelp. So business is kinda at a standstill for now."

"Hmm." The Candy Mare leaned back and put a hoof to her chin. "You need help. Not with the food part. I mean, an ice cream burger is borderline horrific. But - and don't be offended - you're not quite strong. You need someone to help you. You can supply the treat, I take care of the trick."

Pinkie pouted. "Who's to say you're stronger than me?"

"Pinkie Pie. I have devoured entire galaxies. I have gone to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. I can take out a pony all by myself." This was said with all the expectancy of Karen Smith's breasts.

There was no sound. There was nothing until Pinkie leaped forward and held the Candy Mare's face in her hooves. "I love you."

This was also said with the expectancy of Karen Smith's breasts.

Pinkie feverishly shook the mare's hoof. "It's a deal. We have a deal."

Meanwhile, the Candy Mare forced a grin while simultaneously imploding.

What the hell am I doing?

§

She woke up, panting.

Nights were the absolute shittiest. One, she couldn't sleep most of the time. Two, when she did, she did not have sweet dreams. Three, she had a habit of not recognizing where she was upon waking.

It took her a few seconds. The bubblegum-pink walls and the chocolate trim and the vanilla splotches of paint was one indicator of being at some cupcake-making excitable murderess' residence. The faint smell of pies wafted into what must have been the guest room.

At least it wasn't the wrong guest room.

Candy sat up in bed for about ten million years before she had had enough of waiting longer than ten minutes. The dream - well, the memory - was still running around in her brain, and no matter how her eyelids drooped and the swirls in her eyes lost their fear-inducing touch, she just couldn't sleep.

Something sweet would help. It always did. She quietly slipped out of the room and headed downstairs. This Pinkie Pie would surely understand, as before bed, they had exchanged their favorite meals. Pinkie said she loved pie because it was in the name. Candy said everything (that meant everypony).

And now, Candy was stealing a pie. Not stealing, technically, since she was an esteemed "top secret, no welcome party, hidden from the Cakes" guest, but she couldn't help but feel a little guilt as she slid open the display case and let her eyes feast upon the treats.

Pinkie snored heavily from a floor above. A floor below, Candy's plan was set in motion.

It was simple. The Forbidden Candy™ would be made and sacrificed. (Check.) She'd find a place to live. (Check.) She'd get stronger (In progress.) Yes, she did get sidetracked by impulsively choosing to help Pinkie Pie's business, but she would sort it out. And she'd do this all before Nightmare Night, when she would return and shove Luna's curses up the Princess' own ass.

Which begged the question. What day was it? Shoving a piece of pie in her mouth, Candy walked over to the calendar, and imploded for the second time in about twelve hours. "Fuck."

Nightmare Night was two days away.

Author's Note

uh oh stinky

please comment any typos u see lol i couldn't wait to publish this.

EDIT I AM NOT A WUSS I WILL TURN ON RATINGS I AM A BIG GIRL NOW