You Must Be Swift As A Coursing River, With All The Force Of A Great Typhoon
Big Mac arrived at Sugarcube Corner, holding two large baskets on his back. Soon, those large baskets would be filled with eggs. So many eggs.
This was something Big Mac did once a month. Deliver an ungodly amount of eggs to Granny Smith, because that was all she ate in her old age. She didn't discriminate in her egg eating habits, though; she ate them scrambled, boiled, raw, with the shell, poached, burnt, sprinkled with MDMA, you name it, she ate it.
He knocked on the door of Sugarcube Corner with a strong, confident fist. Immideately, as if she expected him, the door was answered by a pink pony.
"Heya, Big Mac~!" Pinkie Pie said loudly and with energy. She suddenly caught sight of the large baskets on his back, and gasped in a way that made Andrea's throat sore. "It's egg season?!"
"Eeyup," Big Mac said, as if he was used to this monthly routine.
Pinkie Pie examined Big Mac with her eyes from head to toe, then said, "Come on in!"
Big Mac entered the bakery, the strong smell of cupcakes and sweets immediately hitting him and giving him a head rush.
Pinkie Pie gestured to a couch, implying Big Mac should sit in it. "Eeyup." Big Mac said as he walked towards the couch to sit on it. It was a long pink couch with white fluff on the top, resembling frosting, in fact Big Mac was pretty sure it was frosting. He sat down his baskets next to him.
"So, Big Mac," Pinkie said as she bustled around the kitchen for the egg compartment. She threw a few eggs directly into the baskets, all the way from the kitchen, and Big Mac was surprised to find they didn't break. "I heard you're dating Sugarbell!" Pinkie said with enthusiasm, shooting a grin back at Big Mac from the kitchen.
"Eeyup." Big Mac said, smiling.
"Since you are now officially in a relationship, have you considered considering how secure you are in your sexuality?" Pinkie said casually, tossing a few more eggs into the basket.
"Eenope." Big Mac said, raising his eyebrow at Pinkie.
Pinkie walked from the kitchen into the living room, where Big Mac was sitting. She clapped her hooves, and the lights went off. Big Mac looked around the room in confusion. Suddenly, she clapped her hooves once more, and she sat in front of him on a small chair, with a notepad and pencil in hoof. She was wearing a fake mustache as well.
"So, Big Mac, would you say you are secure in your heterosexuality?" Pinkie Pie questioned him, pencil in hoof, ready to write. Big Mac's eyes widened as the words left her mouth, shocked.
"Eeyup." Big Mac responded, pretending not to be surprised. He was confident in his response, his shoulders and head high. He wasn't gay, if that was what the pink pony was getting at.
"No, like, I know you must think you're secure in your sexuality, but are you really?" Pinkie tapped the notepad against her paper, then began to scribble on the paper with speed, stopping to think a few times as she did so. "Are you comfortable with your femininity?"
"Eey- Huh?" Big Mac said, stopping mid-sentence as he thought about it. "Eenope."
Pinkie Pie scribbled further on her notepad. "Do you over-do your masculinity in order to compensate for otherwise feminine features, so that other ponies don't doubt your masculinity?"
Big Mac thought to himself. There were times when he liked to cross dress, but only when ponies didn't know it was him, like at Applebloom's sisterhooves social. He was able to get away with that, and he quite enjoyed it, but otherwise, in his daily life, he spent his time being buff. Of course, he was naturally strong, but sometimes he overdid it- like bucking one too many apple trees in a day, or carrying much more than he could carry worth in eggs. He looked over at the egg basket, which was now magically half-way full of eggs. The large baskets looked like a pain to carry. He grimaced for his future self.
".......Eeyup."
"Good! So you are starting to recognize your toxic masculinity." Pinkie Pie scribbled further on her notepad, intensely concerned with whatever she was writing down on the paper. "Have you ever given your girlfriend head?"
Big Mac's eyes widened and his body stiffed up. He tried to think of a time when he had given Sugarbell head, not that it was any of Pinkie Pie's business, but he couldn't think of even one time.
"Eenope." Big Mac said, then grimaced, as if he regretted his answer.
"A good way to be secure in your sexuality is to not be ashamed of playing traditionally submissive roles in the bedroom." Pinkie Pie said factually, and Big Mac looked over at the egg baskets. They were now mostly full. "Do you understand, Big Macintosh?"
"Eeyup." Big Mac said in response to the pink pony, now interested in where she was going.
"What have you done for Sugarbell recently to show your affection towards her, in a non-masculinized way?" Pinkie Pie lowered her eyebrows at Big Mac.
Big Mac thought for a second. He gave her flowers sometimes.
"Do you give her flowers because a man traditionally gives a woman flowers, or because you genuinely thought she'd enjoy the flowers?" Pinkie Pie said after reading Big Mac's mind. Big Mac was confused but not surprised. "Stare into my eyes, Big Mac."
Big Mac did as he was told. He stared into her bright blue eyes and felt himself going into a trance. Pinkie Pie immediately snapped her fingers and he woke up from the trance, shaking his head erratically.
"You are now one with my mind, Big Mac." Pinkie Pie said in a soothing voice. "What is in your mind? What are you hiding about yourself from the world?"
Big Mac's eyes were stuck on full-screen. He stared straight forward and began to think.
"You wish you could wear pretty dresses." Pinkie Pie said factually, reading straight from Big Mac's brain. "Why don't you wear them, Big Mac?" Pinkie Pie starred deeply into Big Mac's eyes, not breaking eye contact whatsoever and failing to blink in the moment.
Pinkie looked deep inside Big Mac's brain, and saw that he was worried about what others would think of him. "Does wearing a dress threaten your masculinity, Big Mac?" Pinkie asked, and Big Mac sat there, thinking over what she was saying. He realized he was physically connected with Pinkie Pie's brain, but he didn't understand how, or why.
"Eeyup." Big Mac said, tears welling up in his eyes.
"What makes you think that? Is it because of your dad?" Pinkie Pie scribbled erratically on her notepad. "Did your dad tell you it wasn't manly to wear pretty dresses?"
Tears were now streaming down Big Mac's face. "Eeyup."
"It's okay to wear pretty dresses, Big Mac." Pinkie Pie scooted her chair closer to Big Mac, and he began sobbing harder. She comforted him with a hoof over his shoulder. "You can be both strong on the outside and pretty on the inside."
Big Mac let out an exasperated sound in the midst of his sobbing, and Pinkie Pie patted his back gently. "There, there,"
Big Mac wondered how he could ever be himself. Would he always just be the quiet, strong stallion that he appeared to be? Would he be ridiculed and looked at for dressing up like he did at the Sisterhooves Social?
"You are afraid of what others' think." Pinkie sighed, putting down her notepad. "Standards become standards by people practicing them," Pinkie stated, "you can change their standards of you, all you have to do is put yourself out there."
Big Mac wiped his runny nose and sniffed, nodding his head as he began to cease crying.
"Eeyup." he responded. He looked over at the eggs, which were now overfilled to the top.
"Well, thanks for stopping by!" Pinkie said, pushing her chair off-screen. She smiled at Big Mac and helped him put the egg baskets back on his back. The weight was considerably heavy, and Big Mac looked tired. He looked to Pinkie with strain in his eyes. Pinkie suddenly had a lightbulb appear over her head.
"I gotcha, Big Mac!" Pinkie said before blasting off to the other room, and came back with egg baskets of comparable size. She filled half of her baskets with Big Mac's baskets' contents, balancing them out to make them more bearable for both ponies.
"To Sweet Apple Acres we go!" Pinkie shouted enthusiastically. Big Mac smiled at her.
After all, Granny Smith needed her eggs. And Big Mac needed some therapy.
