The Cakes' Special Treats

Hours later, Pinkie heard whistling and hoofsteps coming up the stairs. She turned over just in time to see Carrot Cake trip over her. He fell to the floor, the plate he was holding shattering, ruining Pinkie's dinner.

"Ow," he said, rubbing his elbow.

Pinkie sprang up and ran to him. "Are you alright? Sorry, the plate didn't cut you or anything?"

He turned around, confused, "Pinkie, what the fuck?"

She gasped and raised her hoof, but couldn't decide if she wanted to run away or towards him. "Are you okay? I'm sorry for tripping you. I didn't mean for you to get hurt. Don't be upset, please."

Carrot held his hoof out to Pinkie, but she flinched away.

"I'm okay. It just surprised me. Are you alright?" he said, kneeling down to be on the same level as Pinkie.

She nodded, but stared at him. "Does that mean you're angry if you aren't hurt?"

"Why would I be angry? You only shocked me for a second. It's okay." he held out his hoof again, but Pinkie backed away.

"You swore, and ponies only do that if they're super scared, hurt, or angry. Why'd you do it then?"

Carrot opened his mouth, but stopped before any sounds escaped. His brow furrowed as his eyes studied Pinkie intently as she studied him.

He finally spoke, "Can you explain why you think curse words are only used when somepony is upset?"

"Well... this is the first time I've ever heard you swear, and it was when you were shocked. Other ponies swear, but they are super scared of, you know, everything. I've only heard it when something bad is happening, so ponies only swear when they are upset."

Carrot Cake still looked confused, before something clicked into place. "Oh, no Pinkie, ponies curse all the time. No matter their mood. I rarely do it, but you surprised me, and it slipped out. Of course, you view cursing as bad, with your strict upbringing, as well as the only experience with other ponies using it is when they're terrified. There's nothing wrong with cursing, it's just a way of expressing yourself."

Pinkie nodded.

“You still look shaken up. Here, this is an example of when somepony would curse when they're happy. They might say, 'This is fucking awesome!' Do you understand?”

She nodded again. "I still don't like it."

Mr. Cake ruffled her mane. She didn't flinch this time. "That's okay. Lots of ponies don't like it when others curse. It's just good to learn about different things." He stood. "Your nachos are ruined. We'll have to cook something up. Do you want to help?"

The kitchen was on the first floor. Was this a test? "I can't go down to the first floor. That's where the kitchen is, right?"

Mr. Cake took her hoof and led her down. "The store closed over an hour ago. Nopony will see you. It'll be okay just as long as you don't leave my sight."

'This has to be a test. It has to be. I'm gonna fail, then end up back in the basement. There's no way Carrot Cake would disobey his wife like this. She must have put him up to his.'

"No," she yelled, yanking her hoof back. "I don't trust you. Make me more food and bring it back up here, or don't feed me at all. But I'm not going down there. I have to be good or I'll end up back in the basement. I'm not going back in there!"

He looked ready to cry. "Okay, you can stay up here, but after I make you more food, we're gonna have a talk."

Mr. Cake gave Pinkie a new plate of nachos and then waited for her to finish. She ate on the floor, near the stairs she refused to go down. After she finished, Pinkie gave the plate to Mr. Cake, who took it downstairs.

He came back up and then sat in the living room, where Pinkie followed. He sat on the couch, and Pinkie sat on a matching sofa.

"I think you have some misconceptions about me," He said. "Cupcake told me about what you said about me on your birthday."

Pinkie looked around. "Where is she?"

"She's out with some friends. It's just us right now. You hardly know me, though. It seems you constructed your own story where I am just as scared as you are. Here's the thing,"- he leaned in close.- "I'm not. My wife doesn't scare me, and neither do you. I trust you both completely."

Pinkie pulled her knees to her chest. "How can you trust me? You shouldn't. I don't even trust myself."

Mr. Cake went to her and rubbed her back in a way similar to how her papa did when she was a filly. She sprung out of her seat, back against the couch, far away from him.

"Don't do that, please. It reminded me of my papa."

He retracted his hoof, then slowly walked back to his seat. "Sorry Pinkie, I didn't mean to scare you. But this is another reason I trust you. I scared you, and you moved away, even though you could've just as easily reacted with violence, even if you just shoved me away or smacked my hoof."

She stayed far away but relaxed slightly. "No, I didn't hurt you because I need to behave, or else I'll go back into the basement."

Mr. Cake responded, "Pinkie, if you didn't want to do something, we would have no way of forcing you to do so. We can't threaten you because you can't be hurt. You could easily run away. In fact, you had the perfect opportunity to do it already."

Pinkie hopped to her hooves. "When could I have done that? I never even left the house in nearly a year," she said, looking panicked with a mixture of confusion.

"I saw your note. The tunnel has an entrance on every floor of the house, and it leads to the Everfree forest. It’s an escape route in case anything happens, yet you didn't even try to run."

"It's because I want to earn your trust. After everything, I can't just leave. I've put too much effort into this. I don't want to waste it by running away," Pinkie said, tears streaming down her face, eyes tightly shut. She heard hoofsteps coming closer, then the couch shifted.

"I do trust you," Mr. Cake whispered.

"Why? I'm a violent sociopath who views other ponies as nothing more than dolls. I could kill you and I wouldn't even bat an eye," she said, glaring despite the tears.

He sighed, then moved Pinkie's face so she would look at him. His face was completely neutral. Pinkie might have been able to read him if she was in the proper headspace, but right now, all she saw was him. Mr. Cake said in a stern voice, "I know you stole some knives."

'Oh no, they know.' She pushed aside her panic and then made a face of equal parts confusion and fear. "Did I not return a knife when I was having a party with one of your victims? I didn't mean to. I'm sure it's still there somewhere. What kind is-"

"Stop."

She did, her facade falling to reveal her slightly amused face. "Do you know where they are?"

He didn't answer for a moment, most likely shocked by Pinkie's sudden change in demeanor. "We found a scalpel in the toilet tank, and pins in your mattress, but we are still missing a chef's knife."

It fell out of her mane after he spoke. "Ta-dah!"

She shoved it back in right after. Now it was her turn to be shocked by Mr. Cake's reaction. He smiled.

"That is why I trust you," he said. "You've had a weapon on you all this time, but not once did you use it? We definitively scared you when we chained you back up, but you put up with it. If you tried to escape at any point, or hurt me or Cupcake, my opinion would be much different, but at least right now, I'm not scared of you, either."

She was silent as she thought. He wasn't anything like she previously thought. Mr. Cake had everything under control and was merely going along with it because he chose to.

She looked up at him. "Is that why you trust Cupcake? She could kill you anytime she wants, but hasn't?" Pinkie paused. "Why do you help with the murders, then? I'm sure she'd be okay if you just asked not to be a part of it. Now you're a criminal, and you're gonna go to Tartarus when you die."

He stood up and motioned Pinkie to follow him. "I don't enjoy murder as much as my wife. But it makes her happy, and I'd do anything for her. It makes her happy to butcher ponies alive, and I enjoy seeing her happy. I would much prefer it if she took up another hobby like knitting, but it is what it is."

He makes his way to the staircase. "Speaking of hobbies, do you want to learn how to bake?"