Kids eat the darndest things...by MicaChaptersDiamond TiaraScootalooSweetie BelleWind SprintDiamond TiaraOn Saturday morning, Diamond Tiara indulged in her guilty pleasure. Everything was perfect. Father was away on a business trip, Mother was safely confined in her wing of the house. Diamond Tiara summoned the butler Randolph to the upper parlor. He dutifully opened the windows to let in fresh air. He laid a clear plastic cloth over the antique wooden table. “Bring it in,” Diamond ordered. “Yes, milady.” A few minutes later, the butler pony returned with a large cardboard crate, almost as tall as Diamond Tiara herself. “Milady, if I may interject, the grey, cross-eyed pegasus who delivered the package was overcome by the odor, and is currently lying unconscious outside the service entrance.” “Ugh, not again.” It was the third time in one month. “I guess…take her inside and offer her an orange soda.” Diamond Tiara suggested. “Very good, milady.” And so the butler left to attend to Derpy the mailmare. Like a hungry filly in a candy store, Diamond Tiara climbed up to the top of the box, sliced the box open with a knife, revealing about twenty pounds worth of green, spiky fruit. Diamond Tiara took a whiff of the box, and smiled. “Ahh…durians.” She was first introduced to the fruit after Scootaloo’s parents brought it back from Shire Lanka during a visit. The old-clothes smell put her off at first, but one taste…and she was in love. Scootaloo and the other Crusaders hated their durian, so she ate up their servings. Spike said it smelled like a molting dragon and started having traumatic flashbacks of his “awkward teenage period.” So, she cleared his plate too. And more she ate of it, the more she was in love. Diamond Tiara was pretty much only pony in all of Ponyville that enjoyed durian. Her mom and dad hated it. Silver Spoon hated it. Even Pinkie Pie hated it, and she ate everything. Heck, her family ate rock soup. Applejack said it was “all right,” she was used to the smell from feeding the pigs every day, but then again, that farm pony would never admit that any fruit was superior to the apple. Durian was not a cheap fruit, either—a crate of five fruits cost nearly 500 Bits, including express shipping in a refrigerated train car. But of course, Diamond Tiara can afford it. She’s in the Rich family, after all. What better way to flaunt how filthy rich you are than by buying fruits that smell like rotting garbage? “Randolph?” The butler appeared. “Yes milady?” “The durians look satisfactory to me. Only, this one isn’t very ripe. You smell that?” She grabbed the stem with her teeth and dangled it front of Randolph’s snout. She stood on the table so that they’d be at the same height. “I’ll…I’ll take your word for it, milady.” “I see. Well, take them away and cut them up.” “Yes milady.” Randolph picked up the box and sent it down to the kitchen. The kitchen staff, in a well-ventilated area, carefully cut open the fruits, as per Miss Tiara’s instructions. The spiky exterior of the fruit was scored with a knife, then carefully pried apart. Inside were segments of edible fruit that were removed and served on a plate. Ten minutes later, the butler returned with several dollops of stinky fruit pulp that were very aptly shaped like turds. They were carefully plated on the family’s best china and covered by a stainless-steel cloche. “Oh, milady, if I may remark, the mailmare has regained consciousness and took very kindly to your offer of a drink. However, she was inquiring as to whether you had any muffins that you could offer to her. Lemon surprise muffins, I believe she mentioned.” “Give her a dozen cupcakes and show her out. This isn’t a hotel. I’m sure she’s got other deliveries to make.” Diamond turned her snout up and snorted. Maybe she wasn’t a mean-spirited bully anymore, but she was still a spoiled brat at the core. Randolph’s eyes darted nervously across the room. “But, if may be so bold, milady, cupcakes aren’t for breakfast—” “Just scrape the frosting off and tell her they’re muffins. Now leave me be. Unless you’d like to try some durian, Randolph.” She smirked. That threat was enough to send the butler away at breakneck speed. His coughing and gagging could be heard in the hallway. And at last, she was alone. Finally, her chance to savor that delicacy she had been deprived of for so long. She pushed the silver dessert fork to the side until it fell to the floor. She checked to make sure nopony was looking. Then she took a deep breath, dropped her head, and let her jaw make disgusting noises as she devoured the durian segments. She looked up to take a breather, licking the bits of durian pulp surrounding the perimeter of her mouth. The taste was just as she remembered. The thin membrane wrapping the flesh tore as she sunk her teeth into it. The sweet, fibrous, custardy pulp slipped into every little crevice inside her mouth. There was also a hint of bitterness on her tongue, and a pungent aroma strangely reminiscent of permanent marker. She took a bite from each of the five different varieties she had ordered. Each one was subtly different: some mushier than others, some without any bitter flavor, one of them red in color. Diamond Tiara finished sucking the last seed and spit it into a bowl, ten inches away. She slouched in her highback armchair, and sighed with satisfaction, gazing up at the crystal chandelier. The butler knocked on the door. “Enter.” “Milady, Silver Spoon is waiting in the reception hall. She says you are expecting her.” Diamond got up, forgetting to wipe her mouth with a napkin. “Oh. That’s right. Tell her I’m on my way.” Silver Spoon gagged when Diamond Tiara exhaled and said “hi” to her. “Ugh! Yuck! Have you been eating durian again, Diamond!?” “Uh, yeah,” she said, with a pompous look on her face. “And it was absolutely delicious. Are you sure you don’t want some?” Silver Spoon took deep breaths to avoid throwing up. “I’ve done a lot of things for you, Diamond, but no THANK you. One taste was more than enough.” “Don’t sass me, Silvy! I paid for your hospital bill, didn’t I…!?” The exhaled air on the word “hospital” was especially stinky. “Besides, it’s not my fault you gagged and ran to the sink so fast that you tripped on that area rug and twisted your ankle!” Silver Spoon put on one of those respirators that her parents had been hoarding for the pandemic. “Well…at least take a shower or something before you come to my party tonight. And, filly, use some mouthwash.” Diamond huffed, trying to ignore Silver Spoon sassing her again. “Hey, Silvy, isn’t that colt, Gold Cufflink, gonna be at the party?” Silver Spoon slowly social distanced from Diamond Tiara. “Erm, yeah I think he is. Wait, isn’t he that colt that has a huge crush on you, and just can’t take the hint that you’re not interested?” Diamond Tiara scoffed, exhaling another plume of stinky air. “Why do you think I chose to eat durian today?” Author's Note I like eating durian, but I wouldn't say I'm obsessed with it. Durians are expensive and hard to come by up here, and my mom doesn't like the smell, so I haven't had a durian in ages. Durian is very much a luxury fruit. Some varieties can easily cost over $15 per kilo in Singapore. The hundreds of different durian varieties are compared like fine wines. Here's a good video from Mark Wiens, one of my favorite food bloggers: Up next is SCOOTALOO. ScootalooNow for those of you that thinks that is all about Scootaloo eating chicken, you’re wrong. Only part of this story is about that. Scootaloo tried chicken once. The sale of meat was illegal in Ponyville, but griffons were allowed to keep meat for personal consumption. So, she low-key bought a fried chicken combo meal from some griffons in a dark alley behind Sugarcube Corner. (The fried chicken combo meal was a popular fast food in Griffonstone, where it was sold under the name Griffin-tucky Fried Chicken.) After nibbling off all the batter, Scootaloo took one small bite of the chicken meat, and she quickly spit it out. It was the second most disgusting thing she ever ate. But the onion rings that came with the combo meal—those were tasty. Scootaloo had nothing against hay fries, but these onion rings were in a whole ‘nother league. The crispy batter, the surprisingly sweet onion inside—these griffons really knew how to make good deep-fried treats. Scootaloo still went to meet the griffons in the dark alley, but just for the onion rings. So long as she had Bits, she’d be able to get her hooves on those greasy, deep-fried onion rings, served piping hot in a paper bag. Griffons would do anything for Bits, apparently. Scootaloo’s aunts just bought one of those new VCR players. Scootaloo invited Rainbow Dash to come over to her house and watch a movie. “You should come, Rainbow Dash. I’ve got popcorn and onion rings,” she said. Rainbow Dash pat the filly’s back. “Sure thing, squirt! I’m game!” “I’m watching one of those sappy movies that make me wanna cry. It’d be nice to have sompeony else to comfort me and all that. Kinda like when we went camping, remember?” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Aww, of course I’ll comfort you, squirt, I’m a tough mare! No stupid movie’s gonna make an awesome pony like me cry.” Two hours into the movie “No…I’m not…I’m not crying cause of the movie, squirt…it’s the onion rings, I swear~!” *sob* *sob* Scootaloo rolled her eyes as her shoulder got wetter and wetter with Rainbow Dash’s tears. “You know onion rings don’t make you cry right?” Scootaloo said. “They’re, like, cooked and everything.” Scootaloo turned up the volume on the TV to try to cancel out Rainbow Dash’s loud sobbing. …near…far…wherever you are… …I believe…that…the horse does…go on… “Yes they do~!” Rainbow Dash insisted, then sank her face deeper into Scootaloo’s shoulder. “They make you cry~!” Scootaloo sighed, wondering how long it would take Rainbow Dash to admit that she was crying because Jack (played by Prince Blueblood) was about to die in the shipwreck. You know it's a good movie when it can even make you feel sad for Blueblood. “Erm…Rainbow Dash…when are you gonna be done crying? Your head is getting kind of heavy.” She tried to nudge Rainbow Dash away from her now tear-soaked shoulder, but Rainbow Dash only started bawling more. “I swear! I’m not crying cause of the movie, Scootaloo!" she continued to insist. "It’s the onion rings…!” Rainbow Dash stuck her hoof into the almost empty paper bag and stuffed her face with a hoof-ful of onion rings. …once…more…you open the horse… Rainbow Dash sobbed as she chewed. “No…why...but it’s so cold…it’s horrible…!” Scootaloo watched the TV screen. “Yeah, the ocean water is so cold…he’s gonna drown…and leave her…” Scootaloo was also tearing up, but she kept hers under control unlike Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash was bawling like a little infant. “I was talking about the ONION RINGS! They’ve gone COLD!” Listening to Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo took a bite of a cold onion ring. And THAT was the number one most disgusting thing she ever ate. Author's Note Comes as no surprise that I wrote this while listening to Titanic music. Also, I may or may not have written this chapter just so that I could post this picture: Up next is SWEETIE BELLE! (coming soon) Sweetie BelleSweetie Belle couldn’t pinpoint the exact time that she was outright banned from entering her older sister’s kitchen. Was it three months ago, when she burned those cucumber sandwiches? Or four weeks ago, when those ice cream sundaes started smoking? Or was it when she decided to make toast and it turned into black-colored soup? Since then, or whenever it was, Rarity had placed severe restrictions on Sweetie Belle’s access to the kitchen, out of concern for their mutual safety. Sweetie Belle could go in, only with permission, to get a glass of water or other cold drink. She could also get any pre-packaged snack, like a bag of chips...as long as it wasn’t on a high shelf. Under no circumstances was she to touch the stove, oven, microwave, or soymilk making machine. (No, not “everything but the kitchen sink.”) If Sweetie Belle wanted to eat something that required cooking, she could either call for delivery or ask Rarity to make it for her. If Rarity was cooking in the kitchen, she was required to stay at least ten feet away from the kitchen while Rarity was cooking. Sweetie Belle wasn’t even allowed to make instant noodles on her own, after that incident with the kettle and the plastic buttons on Rarity’s dress. As a result of that, Sweetie Belle discovered that instant noodles could be eaten dry, straight out of the packet. Which counts as a “pre-packaged” snack. Just sprinkle the seasoning packet all over the noodle brick, dunk it in some sauce for moisture, and take a big bite. Incidentally, Sweetie Belle now had really strong teeth. Sweetie Belle had been playing video games a lot recently. Her friend Button Mash introduced her to this life-simulator game called The Ponies, and she’s been hooked ever since. Her character, named Tweetie Swelle, had a new mansion with an indoor pool, a job as a Bridleway singer, and a Level-10 skill in cooking—some thing(s) that would probably never happen in real life. Rarity was at first concerned by Sweetie Belle’s new obsession with video games, but it didn’t seem to affect the filly negatively. She was still going to bed at reasonable times, getting all her homework done, and she still attended her Cutie Mark Crusader meetings. Nothing suggested to her that Sweetie Belle was addicted or engaging in any otherwise unhealthy behavior. So, for a long time, Rarity didn’t say anything to her little sister. Then, one afternoon, while walking down the hallway, Rarity saw the door to Sweetie Belle’s room was open. Peeking inside, Rarity saw Sweetie Belle playing The Ponies on the game console, with a bottle of soda at her side. She was also eating something—what was it? Rarity squinted, then gasped. “No, Sweetie, no! You must add water first…!” It was too late. Rarity watched in horror as her little sister dipped a cube of dry instant noodles into an open jar of mayonnaise, and then, completely unfazed, took a big bite out of it. Crunch. Crunch. Two big bites. “I really must tell Sweetie Belle to stop playing those video games,” Rarity concluded. Author's Note Most instant noodles are safe to eat right out of the packet. From personal experience, the "Mama Tom Yum" flavor is pretty good when eaten dry. Up next is WIND SPRINT. (coming soon) Wind SprintClear Sky and Quibble Pants had been together for two years, and by now they were both convinced that Wind Sprint must have been born with defective taste buds or something. The couple sat and shuddered as they watched the foal sit at the dinner table, tapping the bottom of an inverted hot sauce bottle. Tap. Tap. Tap. Clear Sky was sweating just looking at the mountain of hot sauce that was forming over Wind Sprint's plate of spaghetti. “Volcano Spaghetti,” Wind Sprint called it. It’s called “Volcano Spaghetti” when it’s with habanero sauce. “Krakatoa Spaghetti” is with Tantabus Pepper Sauce, but even Wind Sprint says that’s “a little uncomfortable to eat.” “Honey, I’m sure you’ve put enough on there—” “No,” Wind Sprint interjected, not averting her gaze from the mouth of the hot sauce bottle. Tap. Tap. With each tap, another dollop of pungent red liquid fell, and another drop of nervous sweat trickled down her mother’s cheek. “Our buckball team might qualify for the Equestria Little League Championship,” Wind Sprint said as she tapped. “If we can beat the School of Magic in the playoffs, then the rest will be a piece of cake. We just gotta hope and pray that Noi’s sprained fetlock will heal in time. We can’t afford to lose our star earth pony player.” Tap. Tap. Tap. “We need to get a new bottle,” Wind Sprint said matter-of-factly as she continued to tap. Less was starting come out. Wind Sprint’s other passion, besides buckball, was all things spicy. Hot sauce, curries, chilis, you name it. The eleven-year-old filly grew her own chili peppers in a window box outside her bedroom. She was also the youngest (and only female member) of the Canterlot City Chili Connoisseur Club. The 4C Club, for short. The 4C was a pretty informal club. It mainly consisted of a handful of middle-aged stallions that talked sports while eating ridiculously spicy food. At first Clear Sky was nervous sending her daughter off to a bunch of stallions four times her age, but Clear Sky was quickly reassured that they were all decent, law-abiding ponies. Many of the stallions had families and young daughters of their own. Wind Sprint also seemed to enjoy the meetings very much. After all, when it came to talking about sports, a buckball fanatic like Wind Sprint was just “one of the guys.” All joking aside, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants saw no problem with Wind Sprint’s obsession for spicy food. It kept her busy, and it helped her make friends. Until one day, they received a rather concerning letter from Wind Sprint’s teacher. The foals had gone on a nature hike in the woods outside Canterlot. The teacher took all the precautions to protect her young students in case of any danger. The teacher had filled her saddlebag with natural sunscreen, a first aid kit, homemade bug spray, and other DIY protective gear. The class stopped in the woods for a picnic lunch. The teacher had left her saddlebag unattended for a just a brief moment while she was scolding some naughty colts trying to pick up turtle babies using their magic. “Ugh, this veggie sandwich is so bland,” she heard Wind Sprint say. “It needs a kick.” By the time the teacher turned her head, it was too late. The teacher yelled at the top of her lungs. “NO, WIND SPRINT! THAT’S PEPPER SPRAY!” The young filly picked up the spray bottle and put a few spritzes on her sandwich. Everypony within a 5-meter radius (plus the turtle babies) began coughing and tearing up. “Argh! It hurts! It hurts!” Even the teacher could not hold back her tears and coughing. Fortunately, nopony was seriously hurt. After the air cleared, the teacher ran up to Wind Sprint. “Are you okay, dear!? You shouldn’t have done that! This is very dangerous stuff, you understand?” Wind Sprint’s eyes were only very slightly teary from the spray. Without saying a word, the filly very casually took a bite from her sandwich. “Mmm, tastes good. Lemme guess…Trinidad Moruga Scorpion…cultivar 15A?” Author's Note Important note: Wind Sprint ate homemade pepper spray made from real chili peppers dissolved in water. (I tried to hint that the pepper spray was homemade by mentioning the bug spray was also homemade.) Weapons-grade pepper spray is made by chemically extracting capsaicin from chili peppers, and then dissolving it in proplyene glycol, and is definitely NOT edible. Even if you have a spice tolerance like Wind Sprint. Which foal would you like to see in the next chapter? Let me know in the comments!
Diamond TiaraOn Saturday morning, Diamond Tiara indulged in her guilty pleasure. Everything was perfect. Father was away on a business trip, Mother was safely confined in her wing of the house. Diamond Tiara summoned the butler Randolph to the upper parlor. He dutifully opened the windows to let in fresh air. He laid a clear plastic cloth over the antique wooden table. “Bring it in,” Diamond ordered. “Yes, milady.” A few minutes later, the butler pony returned with a large cardboard crate, almost as tall as Diamond Tiara herself. “Milady, if I may interject, the grey, cross-eyed pegasus who delivered the package was overcome by the odor, and is currently lying unconscious outside the service entrance.” “Ugh, not again.” It was the third time in one month. “I guess…take her inside and offer her an orange soda.” Diamond Tiara suggested. “Very good, milady.” And so the butler left to attend to Derpy the mailmare. Like a hungry filly in a candy store, Diamond Tiara climbed up to the top of the box, sliced the box open with a knife, revealing about twenty pounds worth of green, spiky fruit. Diamond Tiara took a whiff of the box, and smiled. “Ahh…durians.” She was first introduced to the fruit after Scootaloo’s parents brought it back from Shire Lanka during a visit. The old-clothes smell put her off at first, but one taste…and she was in love. Scootaloo and the other Crusaders hated their durian, so she ate up their servings. Spike said it smelled like a molting dragon and started having traumatic flashbacks of his “awkward teenage period.” So, she cleared his plate too. And more she ate of it, the more she was in love. Diamond Tiara was pretty much only pony in all of Ponyville that enjoyed durian. Her mom and dad hated it. Silver Spoon hated it. Even Pinkie Pie hated it, and she ate everything. Heck, her family ate rock soup. Applejack said it was “all right,” she was used to the smell from feeding the pigs every day, but then again, that farm pony would never admit that any fruit was superior to the apple. Durian was not a cheap fruit, either—a crate of five fruits cost nearly 500 Bits, including express shipping in a refrigerated train car. But of course, Diamond Tiara can afford it. She’s in the Rich family, after all. What better way to flaunt how filthy rich you are than by buying fruits that smell like rotting garbage? “Randolph?” The butler appeared. “Yes milady?” “The durians look satisfactory to me. Only, this one isn’t very ripe. You smell that?” She grabbed the stem with her teeth and dangled it front of Randolph’s snout. She stood on the table so that they’d be at the same height. “I’ll…I’ll take your word for it, milady.” “I see. Well, take them away and cut them up.” “Yes milady.” Randolph picked up the box and sent it down to the kitchen. The kitchen staff, in a well-ventilated area, carefully cut open the fruits, as per Miss Tiara’s instructions. The spiky exterior of the fruit was scored with a knife, then carefully pried apart. Inside were segments of edible fruit that were removed and served on a plate. Ten minutes later, the butler returned with several dollops of stinky fruit pulp that were very aptly shaped like turds. They were carefully plated on the family’s best china and covered by a stainless-steel cloche. “Oh, milady, if I may remark, the mailmare has regained consciousness and took very kindly to your offer of a drink. However, she was inquiring as to whether you had any muffins that you could offer to her. Lemon surprise muffins, I believe she mentioned.” “Give her a dozen cupcakes and show her out. This isn’t a hotel. I’m sure she’s got other deliveries to make.” Diamond turned her snout up and snorted. Maybe she wasn’t a mean-spirited bully anymore, but she was still a spoiled brat at the core. Randolph’s eyes darted nervously across the room. “But, if may be so bold, milady, cupcakes aren’t for breakfast—” “Just scrape the frosting off and tell her they’re muffins. Now leave me be. Unless you’d like to try some durian, Randolph.” She smirked. That threat was enough to send the butler away at breakneck speed. His coughing and gagging could be heard in the hallway. And at last, she was alone. Finally, her chance to savor that delicacy she had been deprived of for so long. She pushed the silver dessert fork to the side until it fell to the floor. She checked to make sure nopony was looking. Then she took a deep breath, dropped her head, and let her jaw make disgusting noises as she devoured the durian segments. She looked up to take a breather, licking the bits of durian pulp surrounding the perimeter of her mouth. The taste was just as she remembered. The thin membrane wrapping the flesh tore as she sunk her teeth into it. The sweet, fibrous, custardy pulp slipped into every little crevice inside her mouth. There was also a hint of bitterness on her tongue, and a pungent aroma strangely reminiscent of permanent marker. She took a bite from each of the five different varieties she had ordered. Each one was subtly different: some mushier than others, some without any bitter flavor, one of them red in color. Diamond Tiara finished sucking the last seed and spit it into a bowl, ten inches away. She slouched in her highback armchair, and sighed with satisfaction, gazing up at the crystal chandelier. The butler knocked on the door. “Enter.” “Milady, Silver Spoon is waiting in the reception hall. She says you are expecting her.” Diamond got up, forgetting to wipe her mouth with a napkin. “Oh. That’s right. Tell her I’m on my way.” Silver Spoon gagged when Diamond Tiara exhaled and said “hi” to her. “Ugh! Yuck! Have you been eating durian again, Diamond!?” “Uh, yeah,” she said, with a pompous look on her face. “And it was absolutely delicious. Are you sure you don’t want some?” Silver Spoon took deep breaths to avoid throwing up. “I’ve done a lot of things for you, Diamond, but no THANK you. One taste was more than enough.” “Don’t sass me, Silvy! I paid for your hospital bill, didn’t I…!?” The exhaled air on the word “hospital” was especially stinky. “Besides, it’s not my fault you gagged and ran to the sink so fast that you tripped on that area rug and twisted your ankle!” Silver Spoon put on one of those respirators that her parents had been hoarding for the pandemic. “Well…at least take a shower or something before you come to my party tonight. And, filly, use some mouthwash.” Diamond huffed, trying to ignore Silver Spoon sassing her again. “Hey, Silvy, isn’t that colt, Gold Cufflink, gonna be at the party?” Silver Spoon slowly social distanced from Diamond Tiara. “Erm, yeah I think he is. Wait, isn’t he that colt that has a huge crush on you, and just can’t take the hint that you’re not interested?” Diamond Tiara scoffed, exhaling another plume of stinky air. “Why do you think I chose to eat durian today?” Author's Note I like eating durian, but I wouldn't say I'm obsessed with it. Durians are expensive and hard to come by up here, and my mom doesn't like the smell, so I haven't had a durian in ages. Durian is very much a luxury fruit. Some varieties can easily cost over $15 per kilo in Singapore. The hundreds of different durian varieties are compared like fine wines. Here's a good video from Mark Wiens, one of my favorite food bloggers: Up next is SCOOTALOO.
ScootalooNow for those of you that thinks that is all about Scootaloo eating chicken, you’re wrong. Only part of this story is about that. Scootaloo tried chicken once. The sale of meat was illegal in Ponyville, but griffons were allowed to keep meat for personal consumption. So, she low-key bought a fried chicken combo meal from some griffons in a dark alley behind Sugarcube Corner. (The fried chicken combo meal was a popular fast food in Griffonstone, where it was sold under the name Griffin-tucky Fried Chicken.) After nibbling off all the batter, Scootaloo took one small bite of the chicken meat, and she quickly spit it out. It was the second most disgusting thing she ever ate. But the onion rings that came with the combo meal—those were tasty. Scootaloo had nothing against hay fries, but these onion rings were in a whole ‘nother league. The crispy batter, the surprisingly sweet onion inside—these griffons really knew how to make good deep-fried treats. Scootaloo still went to meet the griffons in the dark alley, but just for the onion rings. So long as she had Bits, she’d be able to get her hooves on those greasy, deep-fried onion rings, served piping hot in a paper bag. Griffons would do anything for Bits, apparently. Scootaloo’s aunts just bought one of those new VCR players. Scootaloo invited Rainbow Dash to come over to her house and watch a movie. “You should come, Rainbow Dash. I’ve got popcorn and onion rings,” she said. Rainbow Dash pat the filly’s back. “Sure thing, squirt! I’m game!” “I’m watching one of those sappy movies that make me wanna cry. It’d be nice to have sompeony else to comfort me and all that. Kinda like when we went camping, remember?” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “Aww, of course I’ll comfort you, squirt, I’m a tough mare! No stupid movie’s gonna make an awesome pony like me cry.” Two hours into the movie “No…I’m not…I’m not crying cause of the movie, squirt…it’s the onion rings, I swear~!” *sob* *sob* Scootaloo rolled her eyes as her shoulder got wetter and wetter with Rainbow Dash’s tears. “You know onion rings don’t make you cry right?” Scootaloo said. “They’re, like, cooked and everything.” Scootaloo turned up the volume on the TV to try to cancel out Rainbow Dash’s loud sobbing. …near…far…wherever you are… …I believe…that…the horse does…go on… “Yes they do~!” Rainbow Dash insisted, then sank her face deeper into Scootaloo’s shoulder. “They make you cry~!” Scootaloo sighed, wondering how long it would take Rainbow Dash to admit that she was crying because Jack (played by Prince Blueblood) was about to die in the shipwreck. You know it's a good movie when it can even make you feel sad for Blueblood. “Erm…Rainbow Dash…when are you gonna be done crying? Your head is getting kind of heavy.” She tried to nudge Rainbow Dash away from her now tear-soaked shoulder, but Rainbow Dash only started bawling more. “I swear! I’m not crying cause of the movie, Scootaloo!" she continued to insist. "It’s the onion rings…!” Rainbow Dash stuck her hoof into the almost empty paper bag and stuffed her face with a hoof-ful of onion rings. …once…more…you open the horse… Rainbow Dash sobbed as she chewed. “No…why...but it’s so cold…it’s horrible…!” Scootaloo watched the TV screen. “Yeah, the ocean water is so cold…he’s gonna drown…and leave her…” Scootaloo was also tearing up, but she kept hers under control unlike Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash was bawling like a little infant. “I was talking about the ONION RINGS! They’ve gone COLD!” Listening to Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo took a bite of a cold onion ring. And THAT was the number one most disgusting thing she ever ate. Author's Note Comes as no surprise that I wrote this while listening to Titanic music. Also, I may or may not have written this chapter just so that I could post this picture: Up next is SWEETIE BELLE! (coming soon)
Sweetie BelleSweetie Belle couldn’t pinpoint the exact time that she was outright banned from entering her older sister’s kitchen. Was it three months ago, when she burned those cucumber sandwiches? Or four weeks ago, when those ice cream sundaes started smoking? Or was it when she decided to make toast and it turned into black-colored soup? Since then, or whenever it was, Rarity had placed severe restrictions on Sweetie Belle’s access to the kitchen, out of concern for their mutual safety. Sweetie Belle could go in, only with permission, to get a glass of water or other cold drink. She could also get any pre-packaged snack, like a bag of chips...as long as it wasn’t on a high shelf. Under no circumstances was she to touch the stove, oven, microwave, or soymilk making machine. (No, not “everything but the kitchen sink.”) If Sweetie Belle wanted to eat something that required cooking, she could either call for delivery or ask Rarity to make it for her. If Rarity was cooking in the kitchen, she was required to stay at least ten feet away from the kitchen while Rarity was cooking. Sweetie Belle wasn’t even allowed to make instant noodles on her own, after that incident with the kettle and the plastic buttons on Rarity’s dress. As a result of that, Sweetie Belle discovered that instant noodles could be eaten dry, straight out of the packet. Which counts as a “pre-packaged” snack. Just sprinkle the seasoning packet all over the noodle brick, dunk it in some sauce for moisture, and take a big bite. Incidentally, Sweetie Belle now had really strong teeth. Sweetie Belle had been playing video games a lot recently. Her friend Button Mash introduced her to this life-simulator game called The Ponies, and she’s been hooked ever since. Her character, named Tweetie Swelle, had a new mansion with an indoor pool, a job as a Bridleway singer, and a Level-10 skill in cooking—some thing(s) that would probably never happen in real life. Rarity was at first concerned by Sweetie Belle’s new obsession with video games, but it didn’t seem to affect the filly negatively. She was still going to bed at reasonable times, getting all her homework done, and she still attended her Cutie Mark Crusader meetings. Nothing suggested to her that Sweetie Belle was addicted or engaging in any otherwise unhealthy behavior. So, for a long time, Rarity didn’t say anything to her little sister. Then, one afternoon, while walking down the hallway, Rarity saw the door to Sweetie Belle’s room was open. Peeking inside, Rarity saw Sweetie Belle playing The Ponies on the game console, with a bottle of soda at her side. She was also eating something—what was it? Rarity squinted, then gasped. “No, Sweetie, no! You must add water first…!” It was too late. Rarity watched in horror as her little sister dipped a cube of dry instant noodles into an open jar of mayonnaise, and then, completely unfazed, took a big bite out of it. Crunch. Crunch. Two big bites. “I really must tell Sweetie Belle to stop playing those video games,” Rarity concluded. Author's Note Most instant noodles are safe to eat right out of the packet. From personal experience, the "Mama Tom Yum" flavor is pretty good when eaten dry. Up next is WIND SPRINT. (coming soon)
Wind SprintClear Sky and Quibble Pants had been together for two years, and by now they were both convinced that Wind Sprint must have been born with defective taste buds or something. The couple sat and shuddered as they watched the foal sit at the dinner table, tapping the bottom of an inverted hot sauce bottle. Tap. Tap. Tap. Clear Sky was sweating just looking at the mountain of hot sauce that was forming over Wind Sprint's plate of spaghetti. “Volcano Spaghetti,” Wind Sprint called it. It’s called “Volcano Spaghetti” when it’s with habanero sauce. “Krakatoa Spaghetti” is with Tantabus Pepper Sauce, but even Wind Sprint says that’s “a little uncomfortable to eat.” “Honey, I’m sure you’ve put enough on there—” “No,” Wind Sprint interjected, not averting her gaze from the mouth of the hot sauce bottle. Tap. Tap. With each tap, another dollop of pungent red liquid fell, and another drop of nervous sweat trickled down her mother’s cheek. “Our buckball team might qualify for the Equestria Little League Championship,” Wind Sprint said as she tapped. “If we can beat the School of Magic in the playoffs, then the rest will be a piece of cake. We just gotta hope and pray that Noi’s sprained fetlock will heal in time. We can’t afford to lose our star earth pony player.” Tap. Tap. Tap. “We need to get a new bottle,” Wind Sprint said matter-of-factly as she continued to tap. Less was starting come out. Wind Sprint’s other passion, besides buckball, was all things spicy. Hot sauce, curries, chilis, you name it. The eleven-year-old filly grew her own chili peppers in a window box outside her bedroom. She was also the youngest (and only female member) of the Canterlot City Chili Connoisseur Club. The 4C Club, for short. The 4C was a pretty informal club. It mainly consisted of a handful of middle-aged stallions that talked sports while eating ridiculously spicy food. At first Clear Sky was nervous sending her daughter off to a bunch of stallions four times her age, but Clear Sky was quickly reassured that they were all decent, law-abiding ponies. Many of the stallions had families and young daughters of their own. Wind Sprint also seemed to enjoy the meetings very much. After all, when it came to talking about sports, a buckball fanatic like Wind Sprint was just “one of the guys.” All joking aside, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants saw no problem with Wind Sprint’s obsession for spicy food. It kept her busy, and it helped her make friends. Until one day, they received a rather concerning letter from Wind Sprint’s teacher. The foals had gone on a nature hike in the woods outside Canterlot. The teacher took all the precautions to protect her young students in case of any danger. The teacher had filled her saddlebag with natural sunscreen, a first aid kit, homemade bug spray, and other DIY protective gear. The class stopped in the woods for a picnic lunch. The teacher had left her saddlebag unattended for a just a brief moment while she was scolding some naughty colts trying to pick up turtle babies using their magic. “Ugh, this veggie sandwich is so bland,” she heard Wind Sprint say. “It needs a kick.” By the time the teacher turned her head, it was too late. The teacher yelled at the top of her lungs. “NO, WIND SPRINT! THAT’S PEPPER SPRAY!” The young filly picked up the spray bottle and put a few spritzes on her sandwich. Everypony within a 5-meter radius (plus the turtle babies) began coughing and tearing up. “Argh! It hurts! It hurts!” Even the teacher could not hold back her tears and coughing. Fortunately, nopony was seriously hurt. After the air cleared, the teacher ran up to Wind Sprint. “Are you okay, dear!? You shouldn’t have done that! This is very dangerous stuff, you understand?” Wind Sprint’s eyes were only very slightly teary from the spray. Without saying a word, the filly very casually took a bite from her sandwich. “Mmm, tastes good. Lemme guess…Trinidad Moruga Scorpion…cultivar 15A?” Author's Note Important note: Wind Sprint ate homemade pepper spray made from real chili peppers dissolved in water. (I tried to hint that the pepper spray was homemade by mentioning the bug spray was also homemade.) Weapons-grade pepper spray is made by chemically extracting capsaicin from chili peppers, and then dissolving it in proplyene glycol, and is definitely NOT edible. Even if you have a spice tolerance like Wind Sprint. Which foal would you like to see in the next chapter? Let me know in the comments!
