"I bet you a cookie baking session that the Manehattan Kickers will win the next season game!" Rarity looked over at Pinkie Pie, who had taken notice as she looked over the results of the last hoofball match. There's no harm in a friendly bet...
Rarity looked Pinkie dead in the eye. "Okay then. I'll take that bet. If you lose, your next party has to have classical music."
Pinkie gave it a very brief thought before shaking Rarity's hoof. "You've got a deal, sister!" With a giggle, the pink mare hopped away, humming to herself.
A week later, the door to Sugarcube Corner swung open with a small ring, tinkling around the shop and alerting a very chipper pink pony that waited upstairs on her day off. Before Mrs. Cake could say anything to the young mare that had entered, a blur of bouncy, pink energy practically teleported downstairs. Pinkie Pie smiled wide, jumping forward and pulling Rarity into a warm hug.
“Rarity! I was wondering when you’d show up! I mean, I was about to get up and go out and start looking for you to see if you wanted to bake those cookies today, but then I thought that you might be busy and that you might be coming tomorrow, but then you came walking in the door, and now you’re here!” By that point, Pinkie had let go of Rarity and started hopping happily toward the kitchen.
Mrs. Cake glanced uneasily toward Rarity, who still stood rooted to her spot directly in front of the door. She nodded back toward the kitchen. “You’re going to make sure that she keeps things in order, right?”
Rarity shook herself out of a minor daze. “Oh! Yes, of course. Although I’ll have to remember to never make a bet with that mare again...” Mr.s Cake offered a sage nod of agreement as Rarity moved toward the kitchen.
Upon her entrance, Rarity’s heart sank deep down. At least a dozen cookie pans lay empty and scattered about the room, and large bins full of various ingredients sat neatly on a low counter. Not to mention that the color scheme of the kitchen, while most definitely a good working environment for a baker, completely disagreed with everything she felt as elegant and noble in the world. A beaming Pinkie Pie stood in the center of it all. “Pinkie... we’re not going to fill all of these trays today, are we?” Rarity winced, offering a silent prayer to Celestia that Pinkie would say no.
The baker laughed, snorting along the way. “Of course we are, silly! It’s not like it takes much longer than making five, and that doesn’t take much longer than making just one. Well, unless you decide to make five DIFFERENT kinds of cookies, in which case it does take longer. But we’re only making one, so it’ll be over in no time at all!”
For some reason, Rarity strongly doubted that assertion. Even so, a bet was a bet, and she couldn’t attempt an escape. With a resigned sigh, Rarity pulled on a floury, slightly pink apron. No doubt from all of the red coloring she uses. As is befitting a lady, Rarity waited patiently, albeit uncomfortably, for Pinkie to give her instructions.
“Well,” Pinkie started, “since you have your magic and everything this should go really super-quick! First thing’s first, we’re going to need flour, and lots of it...”
Fifteen minutes of ingredients and mixing later, the dough sat ready in a bowl, smooth and off-white. Pinkie placed a bowl of cinnamon sugar on the counter, matching up to the other already there. “Okie dokie lokie, it’s time to get rollin’! First, you take a bit of dough.” Pinkie scooped a small clump of the gooey goodness out of her bowl. “Then, you roll it up into a nice little ball.” Using her hooves, she worked the dough around in circles over and over until it came together in a rough sphere. “And then you roll it in cinnamon sugar and flatten it on the pan!” In one smooth feat of motion, Pinkie rolled the ball into the bowl and it curved around, picking up a full coat of the sweet stuff and sliding back out and onto the pan. Once in place, she used her hoof to flatten it out a bit. “Easy peasy!”
Just as Rarity lit up her horn and started scooping the dough up, Pinkie bopped it on the tip, stunning her for a bit and stopping the magic entirely. “No magic. Snickerdoodles have to be done the right way.” For a moment, Rarity saw a bit of fierce solemnity and a true love for her art. She smiled at the devotion, swallowed everything she knew about grooming, and picked up a bit of dough.
As the last tray slid into the oven, Rarity looked down at her hooves. Surprisingly, the dough hadn’t stuck to them nearly as much as she feared, but the cinnamon turned every bit of them a warm brown. Pinkie giggled in delight as she ate one of the first batch, which had cooled just enough to be safe to eat.
After taking a short break to wash her hooves, Rarity took one of the treats for herself and took a bite. “Oh, Celestia...” She stared down at the cookie, examining every last bit of it to make absolutely sure that Pinkie had not altered them in any way. Rarity couldn’t help smiling, a soft comfort welling up inside her stomach. “It’s hard to not be excited all of the time, when these are the treats you make. I came in here thinking that it would be a very messy affair, and you’ve proved me wrong.”
Pinkie hugged Rarity tightly. “I knew you’d like it. Thanks so much for helping me out!” Her eyes brimmed with excitement and joy, glee practically dancing around in the cyan seas.
Rarity looked around at the treats, easily numbering in the hundreds. “So, I can take a few dozen of these home with me?” Pinkie nodded and fetched a bag, carefully stuffing it with two trays of the cookies.
As Rarity walked out of the kitchen, Pinkie gave her a wave. “Maybe we could make some more next month! I’m sure Mrs. Cake won’t mind if we let her sell some of these today.”
The unicorn silently agreed with her somewhat eccentric friend, sneaking another snickerdoodle before she exited the bakery.
