“Fancy Pants!” Fleur de Lis hissed, giving the sleeping stallion a gentle shake.
Fancy Pants stirred, but didn't rouse. He mumbled something incoherent into his pillow.
“Fancy Pants!” Fleur repeated, more urgently this time.
Finally, he awoke. “Mhm… Fleur?” he groaned, lifting his head. “Darling, what's-?”
“The Incognito Cart is back!”
Fancy Pants’ head shot up, startled into alertness. He looked over at Fleur. “You're certain?” he asked eagerly.
“Positive!” She rushed to the window, lifted the curtain, and pointed. “See for yourself!”
Fancy Pants tumbled out of bed and stumbled over to the window. “My goodness,” he whispered. “So it is. And so close tonight, too.” He looked over his shoulder at his closet. “If that's not a sign, I don't know what is.”
Fleur giggled delightedly. “I've already got the blackout line from two seasons ago ready to go!”
Once they were so thoroughly disguised, the two ponies hurried down the street, furtively glancing over their shoulders every so often.
The Incognito Cart was one of Canterlot’s worst kept secrets. It was incredibly popular, especially for something that didn’t even technically exist. It was ostensibly a food truck, but it didn’t have a schedule, it didn’t have a set location, it was somewhat seedy, and as far as anypony could tell, it was run by just one mare who didn’t even bother to write any orders down.
And its menu. Oh, its menu. Messily mouth-scrawled with yellow chalk on hanging blackboards, it was full of things no self-respecting restaurant within fifty miles of Canterlot would dare serve, at prices so low no self-respecting member of the Canterlot public would dare be seen paying. Cheese, butter, grease, oil, mayonnaise, sugar, salt, sometimes all of these at once! If it had plenty of flavor and next to no nutritional value, it could most likely be found here.
And, as it turns out, that was exactly what the Canterlot ponies secretly wanted, but were too afraid to let it be known.
So thus it was that when Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis arrived, wearing their disguises, they weren’t the only ones. The smell of fried food wafted through the air, and other happy ponies were munching contentedly. All were using their hooves; it was tradition for the unicorns to not use their magic here, just in case somepony recognized the color.
The Proprietor leaned against the counter. She wore a thick, fake mustache that covered most of her upper lip and a black baseball cap pulled down, doing double duty of shrouding her face in shadow and (only barely) containing her poofy pink mane inside. “Hey there, Strangers,” she greeted them, her voice sounding low and raspy. “What'll it be?”
Fancy Pants shivered in anticipation, his bits clinking as he set them on the counter. “I’ll have the deluxe hayburger with a side of curly fries, please,” he said, already imagining his prize. Other restaurants may have had what they called a ‘deluxe burger’, but theirs may have just had a thicker patty, or come with extra toppings.
Not so for the Incognito Cart. Her version was a hayburger, thick and juicy, topped with melted cheese and onion rings and slathered in mustard; but instead of a bun, it was set in between two large glazed donuts.
“Curly fries are off,” the pink mare said, her voice slightly apologetic as she gestured with her head towards the number ‘86’ scrawled across the listing. “But I got regular, smiley, and waffle-cut fries?”
“Ooh, waffle fries. Yes, I’ll have those.”
“You got it!” She turned to Fleur. “And for you?”
“Deep-fried cheese curds,” she said breathlessly, pushing her bits across the counter. “With extra powdered sugar and cinnamon.”
The Proprietor scooped the bits off the counter into the till and grinned widely. “Coming right up!” She ducked back into the cart. The sound of clanging pots and sizzling oil came from inside, and the smell of fried food wafted out. In what seemed like only an instant, she returned, holding his plate and her bucket high in the air, and then set them down while inclining her head. “Enjoy!”
They moved out of the way quickly. Fleur was already popping a fried curd in her mouth, eating them like popcorn. She didn’t even want to know how many calories were in each one of these, but right now, she didn’t really care. They were crispy and delicious, and she wasn't about to stop.
Next to her, Fancy Pants was messily eating his hayburger, chomping at it like a colt a quarter his age, sending mustard spurting out over his cloak.
“Oh, we're horrible,” Fleur murmured.
“It is so worth it, though,” Fancy said.
“So true.” She leaned in, “I might get another order,” she whispered, as if confessing a deep, dark secret.
“Go right ahead,” Fancy said, blissfully licking the cheese sauce off his hooves.
At the Canterlot Carousel, Rarity and Sassy Saddles were reviewing their plans for tomorrow.
“And that’s not even counting the order I have from Ponyville,” Rarity mused. “Though I do think that one won’t be nearly as difficult as that first one. And of course she would bring the Incognito Cart tonight. Oh, that mare…” She sighed. “Of course, I suppose I could spare a little time and nip on over for a quick bite. But I probably shouldn't. Not with everything we have going on.” She cast an aside glance at her flank and pursed her lips, as if to say something else, but shook her head and decided against it.
“The Incognito Cart?” Sassy asked.
“Yes.”
“Never heard of that.”
Rarity paused, then held up a hoof. “Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me you don't know about the Incognito Cart?”
Sassy slowly shook her head. “I'm afraid I don't,” she admitted.
Rarity closed the book sharply. “Oh, that settles it, then! We’re going at once. You simply must try it! It’s the guiltiest of guilty pleasures, but everypony does it.”
Sassy tittered at her enthusiasm. “Sequins and sashes, Rarity! I think I remember a police pony coming to school warning me about dangerous ponies like you.”
Rarity scoffed. “The only thing in danger is your sense of taste. It’s an experience you won’t forget anytime soon, I assure you.”
Sassy paused, her ears pricking. Now she was getting a bit concerned. “Rarity?”
“Come along. This is one of those things that's easier to explain when you don't need to explain. Now, where are those big black cloaks from last Nightmare Night?”
Sassy Saddles walked hesitantly behind Rarity, who was striding forward purposefully. She was a little uncomfortable about all of this, from the cloak to the late night.
“Try to look like you belong, darling,” Rarity murmured quietly. “You’ll fit in better.”
“Buttonholes and backing, I’m not sure I’m even supposed to be here,” Sassy mumbled back.
“Everypony is welcome here,” Rarity said, “but this is where the ‘incognito’ part c-… who’s put this- oh my.”
What Rarity had presumed to be a tent or perhaps two or three ponies stacked on top of each other was actually one pony.
A very large pony.
A very large pony that was currently eating an onion blossom, covered in sauce, by tilting the plate back and letting gravity pull it into her mouth, and chomping at it like some arcade game character.
“We’re in the right place,” Rarity said lightly.
“Laces and lattice stitches... we’re definitely somewhere,” Sassy mumbled under her breath, giving the large mare a sideways glance and not feeling comforted in the slightest.
The Incognito Cart came into view. There didn’t seem to be a line. That’s not to say it wasn’t active, because it was. It was just that whenever a pony walked up and slid over the bits, their food was out in a flash, so there wasn’t time for things to get backed up.
For some reason, this wasn’t particularly comforting to Sassy.
But Rarity didn’t seem to mind. She led them up to the counter, where the pink mare was leaning.
“Twins or sisters?” she greeted them. She laughed and waved them down. “Just kidding, don’t tell me. What’ll it be, Strangers?”
Sassy blinked. “Isn't that…?”
Rarity gave her a sharp elbow to the ribs, shutting her up instantly. “Incognito, darling,” she emphasized in a quiet hiss. “All of us.”
“That's right, random-stranger-whom-I-have-definitely-never-ever-ever-seen-before-in-my-life!” said the mare who was definitely not Rarity’s Ponyville friend Pinkie Pie. “First time? Menu’s up there. Anything without an 86 on it is fair game—and it’s all delicious. That’s the ICC Guarantee!”
Sassy Saddles glanced over at the menu, her eyes widening further with every item she read. Everything was either fried, swimming in sauce, or both. She could almost feel her arteries hardening just by reading these names.
And then she saw a name that seemed a little out of place. “‘Desire’?” she read. “What's that?”
“One ear of corn, a slathering of mayo, topped with queso fresco and a healthy dose of spices. My own recipe!” the Proprietor explained cheerfully.
“So it's like street corn,” she realized.
“Yep. A street corn named Desire.”
Sassy had never believed puns could physically hurt, but she let out a low groan as she was forced to reassess that belief. She shook her head. “What's the Fancy Special?” she tried.
In response, Pinkie dove under the counter and then held up a small plate.
“Needles and…” She coughed, trying to not reveal herself with her usual speech patterns. “Is that just a single pickle chip with ketchup on top?”
“Yeah,” Pinkie conceded, “but when it's in the Fancy Special, we call it ‘a finely-sliced cucumber, aged and preserved in a natural sea salt brine with a decadent tomato and vinegar reduction drizzled lightly over top’.”
Sassy chuckled in spite of herself. The accuracy was astounding. She kept reading the menu, and then stopped short at one picture. “Grind my rhinestones, is that really…?”
Pinkie scooted up on the counter and turned her head to track Sassy’s eyeline, and nodded. “Deep fried butter. On a stick. So it’s a stick on a stick. Very popular!”
Sassy shuddered. That just sounded awful.
“Calories don't count tonight, darling,” Rarity sang under her breath, as if egging her on.
“But I don’t…” She shook her head. It was a terrible idea.
But she glanced around at the others. Everypony seemed to be going along for the ride, and having a blast doing it.
There was no way that was edible, let alone doable. The heat should have melted it right away, right? Maybe. She was better at working a sewing machine than a fryer.
And yet…
“I’ll take one.”
Sassy gave her fried butter a sideways glance. It had been an almost heat of the moment decision, and now her hot decision wasn’t seeming so hot.
Metaphorically speaking, that is. The stick-on-a-stick had just come out of the deep fryer, so it was still steaming as she held it in her hooves, somehow looking inviting and ominous at the same time.
“Thread and- er, Ra- er, Stranger,” she said awkwardly, “are-”
But as she turned, she saw Rarity holding a deep-fried cheese stick with both hooves, taking a big bite, pulling back, leaning forward and gathering the stretched cheese with her tongue, and doing it all over again.
She noticed Sassy staring. “W’a’?” she asked, sounding completely unembarrassed, which was a little odd, considering she had mozzarella dripping off her muzzle and marinara sauce on her cheeks.
“I just… never thought I’d see you like this.”
“You didn’t,” Rarity said pointedly as she extended her tongue much further than would be considered ladylike to retrieve the last strands of cheese and pull them into her mouth. “This is the Incognito Cart. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, we’re just here to eat.”
Sassy wasn’t sure she could completely disassociate from this. This was a good friend and technically her boss, and she was licking the rest of the marinara sauce from a small cup with a reckless abandon she’d never seen before and likely wouldn’t see again.
Rarity noticed her staring. “Come now, embrace your wilder side,” she urged. “Nopony knows you here. Honestly, you’ll stick out more if you don’t.”
Sassy took another look at her fried butter stick. Hesitantly, nervously, she leaned forward, and took a small bite.
It was as if a flavor explosion had happened in her mouth. It was crispy, flavorful, somehow not heavy, and yet smooth all at the same time. “Is it terrible that I love this?” Sassy asked in quiet wonder.
“Of course not,” Rarity reassured her. “Calories don't count tonight, darling. In fact, I think I’ll have another.” A little smile crossed her face. “Will you?”
“I might,” Sassy conceded. “Just let me…” She looked down and realized with a start that she’d already inhaled it; she was only holding a slick but otherwise bare stick. She blinked. She hadn’t realized she’d eaten it already.
“That is the magic of the Incognito Cart,” Rarity said with a playful gleam in her eye.
Sassy tossed her stick at a nearby trash can, missed, and remembered just in time to not use her magic to retrieve it. As she fumbled with picking up the stick with her hooves, she heard feathers from overhead, and was startled to see a group of pegasi descend, landing lightly on the cobbled street with barely a sound. They all wore long black tracksuits and large beanies to cover their manes. Large swaths of eyeblack under their cheeks completed their disguises.
One of the mares stepped forward. Apparently, she knew how this worked, because she moved up to the counter and gave her order right away. The Proprietor leaped into action, and she soon left, loaded down with greasy goodness.
Sassy quickly got into line behind Rarity, feeling a flash of the irrational fear that they would eat up all the food. “Is the cart visible from Cloudsdale?” she wondered aloud.
The pony in front of Rarity looked over her shoulder. “The Incognito Cart hath a fairly unique profile,” she explained. She looked back at it and licked her lips hungrily. “Believe me, when it’th here, we know.”
Two of the pegasi, one stallion and one mare, both got their orders, piles of small, golden-brown bars, clearly deep fried and piled high. They quickly sat down across from each other. Sassy watched, somewhat expecting a date; but instead, each began placing one of their orders in their mouths and chewing deliberately, as if competing.
“Thre- I mean,” Sassy said, catching herself. “Are those cheese sticks?” They seemed a little oddly-shaped for that, now that she got a closer look.
“Habanero poppers,” the stallion answered, panting, his eyeblack starting to run from the sweat and tears running down his face.
The mare sniffled. Her nose was running and she was sweating heavily, but gamely she continued. Defiantly, she licked at the sides of her mouth, picking up some of the spicy oils that had landed there. “Come on, Stranger, is that the best you’ve got?”
“Your mouth better not be writing checks your mouth can’t cash, Stranger,” the stallion retorted, and he placed another popper in his mouth and purposefully crunched it, showing her that he was keeping it in his mouth.
Sassy couldn’t help but watch in fascination as the two ponies matched each other, popper for popper, willingly choosing chemical burns for the sake of pride.
Honestly, it looked like a blast.
“Welcome back, Stranger!”
Sassy jumped, realizing that she was now next in line.
“Assuming you’ve been here before, I mean,” the Proprietor amended cheerfully with a wink.
“Eh, just once or twice,” Sassy said, starting to pick up on this game. “How’s the deep-fried butter?”
“Smooth as, well, butter! That’s been a popular pick tonight,” the Proprietor said, and she reached down under the counter and pulled one out.
Deciding to not think about the logistics of that, Sassy quickly paid and turned to enjoy her prize, and as she went to take a bite, bumped into a pegasus mare. She quickly recoiled, accidentally jamming the stick against her cheek, which prompted her to recoil again. That was hot!
Still, anonymity was no cause to be rude. “Br- I mean, sorry about that,” she offered.
“Not a problem,” the pegasus said. Wisps of orange and amber mane poked out from under her dark beanie. She looked down at the stick Sassy held, and raised her own matching order. “Fellow stick-on-a-stick enthusiast, eh?”
“My first time, actually,” Sassy admitted.
“It’s a good choice,” the pegasus said. A little smile played at her lips. “Hold on. You’ve got a little…”
Before Sassy could respond, she leaned forward and licked a bit of butter off Sassy’s cheek.
Sassy froze.
The pegasus smirked. “Got it,” she said pleasantly.
Sassy let out a nervous giggle. She wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. This was obviously Spitfire, even if nopony was going to say it out loud. Having her just lick her like that was…
Well…
Not to say she was opposed to it, but still. Wonderbolt security was notoriously tight. If their positions had been reversed, she would have been tackled to the floor and given a lifetime ban from any Wonderbolt event (and probably multiple restraining orders on top of that).
But here, Spitfire wasn’t a Wonderbolt. Here, she was just a normal pony, and could do normal things (as normal as licking a stranger was, anyway) without drawing attention or causing a scandal. No tabloids or photographers here to blow things out of proportion for a controversy or a cheap headline.
This was all starting to make sense.
With a start, she realized that some time had passed, and she was still looking expectantly at her. She should say something. Well, she knew how normal ponies flirted.
“Grease and oil slicks! You’re quite skilled with that tongue, Stranger.”
But it wasn’t like that.
The pegasus gave her a teasing, sideways look. “Ah, I bet you say that to all the ponies you met tonight,” she said.
Or maybe it was? “Haven’t met anypony like you tonight,” Sassy tried.
“Oh, now I know you’re teasing me,” the pegasus said, but her eyes sparkled. She sat down next to her, comfortable in the street. “So, tell me,” she said, pausing to drag her tongue up her stick-on-a-stick a bit longer and slower than strictly necessary, “where does a pretty mare like you hide during the day?”
Sassy hesitated. Was she asking what she did? That felt like that should be against the rules or something, right? She glanced over at Rarity, hoping for some guidance.
But Rarity was busy wrapping cheese around her tongue with her head movements, pulling it out of its fried shell. When she noticed Sassy looking at her, she merely motioned encouragingly with her hoof and kept eating.
Thankfully, Spitfire understood. “Me, I fly sometimes-”
Sassy had to suppress a snort of amusement.
“-but for my day job, I’m a glorified babysitter.”
Sassy’s eyes flicked over to the two ponies still locked in capsaicin combat. They’d heard. The stallion stuck his tongue out at her, but his effort was ruined by the tears streaming down his face, even with his eyes screwed shut. She looked back at Spitfire. “I like sewing,” she said.
“Oh, yeah?” Spitfire said.
“Yeah,” Sassy said, sliding smoothly into this secretive system of somewhat sneaky dialogue. “I took a class in high school. Got the best grade in the class.” She paused for a second before delivering the follow-up, “B+.”
That made Spitfire expel a little air out her nose in amusement.
Buoyed by her response, Sassy continued. “I just dabble, really. Small repairs, occasional darning, that kind of thing.” Wait. Was ‘darning’ too obscure a term that might betray her knowledge? “But my day job is retail,” she said quickly, hoping to skate past that.
If it had been, Spitfire didn’t seem to mind. She made like she was wiping her face, but ended up smearing a bit of butter on her cheek from her stick-on-a-stick. “Sounds like you stay busy,” she said lightly. “What kind of stuff do you sell?”
Sassy’s eyes flicked to the butter. Spitfire must not have noticed, but Sassy didn’t want to interrupt the flow of conversation, not when she was finally getting the hang of it. “Oh, you know,” she said, trying to think of how she could badly describe her job. “Fashion… stuff. Accessories,” she tried.
“Like socks?” Spitfire suggested.
“Occasionally,” she said.
Spitfire slid the end of the stick into her mouth, stood up, and casually stretched, flaring her wings and extending her forelegs. She returned to her original position and blinked expectantly at her.
Sassy blinked back. That had clearly been meant for her, but what was it supposed to mean? Was she wanting a compliment? Probably, but on what? Was it the wingspan? Was it her legs? Her flank? Her core?
Wow, there was a lot that was good on this mare.
Spitfire’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if irritated, and with the stick, deliberately spread the smear of butter a little more on her cheek.
Sassy had been too focused on the conversation, she’d almost forgotten about her own-
Wait.
She’d done all of that on purpose. Even the butter, apparently, So was that an invitation?
Her heart seemed to beat even faster at that thought. A mare like Spitfire, well! She’d be foolish to pass this opportunity up!
But would she look too forward? Maybe she should try teasing her more, feigning ignorance, to see just how much further she would take it? She couldn’t suppress a little smile. Ooh, that would be fun!
And then she heard the distinctive sound of metal on metal. Her ears pricked. That sounded like-
“It's the fuzz!” the Proprietor shrieked. With almost supernatural speed, she jumped out the window, slammed the cover down, darted to the front and hitched herself to the cart seemingly in the same motion, and then took off, dragging the cart behind her and sending clouds of dust billowing into the air.
Sassy looked back and saw that the pegasus was already gone, along with her team, disappearing into the distance. Other ponies were quickly making themselves scarce, too. A pony that was most definitely not Fancy Pants ran by, already breathing hard, though the unicorn that was not Fleur had longer legs that let her keep up easily.
“Time to go, darling,” Rarity said with a hint of urgency.
Sassy shoved the rest of the stick-on-a-stick in her mouth, wincing with immediate regret because of how hot it still was, and then took off, following Rarity back to the Carousel.
The next morning, Sassy lit her horn to adjust another dress, then paused to rub her stomach.
Rarity noticed. “Are you doing alright, Sassy?”
“I think so?” Sassy said uncertainly. “I mean, I regret it, but I don’t at the same time, if that makes sense.”
“Well, that’s usually how it goes,” Rarity said knowingly. “There’s a reason the Proprietor keeps it a rare occasion. Too often and it wouldn’t be special.” She paused. “I’d also have to design larger garments for everypony in Canterlot,” she added.
Sassy giggled. “Paisley and poplin, it was fun, though.” She paused. “Did… did Spitfire actually flirt with me?”
Rarity chuckled. “Ah, the freeing choices that can be made while one is incognito. It's possible, yes; though it's more likely she was just teasing. Unfortunately, there's really no way to know for sure. See, it's an unspoken rule that what happens at the cart, stays at the cart. It's likely she'll never acknowledge it. Assuming your paths ever cross again, that is.”
Sassy sighed. “I guess you’re right. Buttons and bric-a-brac, though, that was thrilling.”
“I suppose it is a rare occasion to meet a popular hero of Equestria,” Rarity said airily, her eyes sparkling.
Sassy stopped and stammered, suddenly realizing just how many times Rarity had been just that. “I didn’t mean that, of course, I just-”
She was spared from needing to come up with an actual explanation when the bell rang. Grateful for the distraction, she nearly leaped over the desk to greet their new customer. “Welcome to the Canterlot Carousel,” she said brightly.
And then she paused. Her eyes widened slightly, but she kept her smile on.
Because she recognized the pony there.
Spitfire looked around, still wearing her sunglasses. “So,” she said, slowly removing them, “this is the Canterlot Carousel.”
“It certainly is,” Sassy said, mostly because she was unsure what else to say.
Spitfire walked around, her eyes flicking over the dresses and outfits hanging on the walls. “Looks nice. It just so happens that I’m in the market for a nice evening dress,” she said.
“Certainly,” Sassy said. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, you know, something slinky, flattering, but not too over-the-top. The kind of dress I’d use to take a pretty mare out on a date.”
Sassy’s heart fell. Of course Spitfire would have a girlfriend. She almost wanted to call Rarity to have her take over, but she prided herself on her professionalism and she wasn’t about to ruin that now. “Of course,” she said, hoping the tremor in her voice wasn’t noticeable. “Did you have a specific color in mind?”
“Not yet. I’d want it to match with something she’d wear, and she’s a fairly fashion forward pony.”
“Alright, we can take our best guess based on what’s popular now,” Sassy said, falling into the routine. Color matching was something she could do, something that would take concentration, a helpful distraction. “What’s her coat color?”
“I’d say a grayish, pale cerulean?”
Sassy dutifully wrote this down.
It took her a little longer than she was proud of to realize that that was her coat color. Her eyes snapped up.
There was a brief pause.
And then Spitfire winked at her.
Sassy nearly dropped the clipboard.
“I haven’t asked her yet,” Spitfire continued conversationally, “but I’m hoping she’ll say yes if I do.”
“I’m… sure she will,” Sassy said breathlessly. She would never have used the word ‘frazzled’, of course, but it did sound vaguely fitting in this situation.
There was another beat.
“Do you need to take my measurements or something like that?” Spitfire offered.
“Yes, right,” Sassy said, lighting her horn and searching for her measuring tape. She found it quickly, pulling it out in a small shower of safety pins, needles, and sticky note pads.
Spitfire stood expectantly at attention.
As Sassy neared, she realized that she didn’t technically have to use magic for this. She let her horn light fade and she caught the tape with her hooves.
And if she wasn’t mistaken, Spitfire was suppressing a little smile that said she was just fine with this.
The next few minutes flew by. With the Rules of Rarity in mind, Sassy sketched and designed something fit for a mare born for the sky and only temporarily sojourning on the ground. Before long, both were more than satisfied.
“It’ll be ready within the week,” Sassy promised as she made one last note on the sketch.
“That’ll work,” Spitfire said. “As long as it makes me look good.”
Sassy tittered. “Let’s be honest, Captain. You could make anything look good.”
“Careful, Miss Saddles,” Spitfire said lightly, though she flicked her tail appreciatively. “I might think you’re just trying to flatter me into buying more of your dresses.” With a knowing little smirk, Spitfire took off.
As soon as she was out of sight, Rarity appeared seemingly out of nowhere and gave Sassy a playful nudge. “My, my, Sassy. I think you’ve got a hot date,” she said excitedly.
Sassy let out a panicked laugh. Now that Spitfire was gone, the veneer of professionalism she’d so carefully maintained had cracked. “Yes, but… oh, bobbins and back stitches, what do I do?”
“What do you mean, what do you do?” Rarity asked incredulously. “Go! Have fun, dress up, have a wonderful evening.”
Sassy gave her a look that was half withering, half pleading. “It’s hardly that simple,” she protested.
“It’s not?” Rarity challenged. “She made enough of an effort to track you down after dinner,” she subtly emphasized the euphemism, “so you clearly made a significant impact on her.”
“All I did was try and play along,” Sassy said helplessly, suddenly feeling out of her depth.
“Maybe that’s all she wanted,” Rarity offered.
Sassy made a small, unconvinced noise.
“You’re definitely overthinking this,” Rarity reassured her. “Let me emphasize: she’s violating the unwritten code of the Cart to meet up with you. She’s risking getting permanently, er, ‘86’d’ from Canterlot’s most popular attraction, and believe me, the Proprietor never forgets a pony.”
“Rarity, you’re being a little silly with this round-about talk,” Sassy said, jumping on this for any possible viable distraction. “It’s not like Pinkie Pie-”
Rarity’s eyes widened in horror. She rushed over and nearly slammed her hoof against Sassy’s lips to silence her, but it was too late.
The bell over the door jingled, and Pinkie Pie casually sauntered in. “Hey, girls,” she greeted them brightly. With an almost flippant disregard for social norms, she went behind the counter, retrieved one of the bottles of water usually reserved for customers, unscrewed the top with a loop of her mane, and took a long drink. While still drinking, she walked back towards the door.
Then, she paused in front of Sassy. “Spitfire’s favorite dessert is key lime pie,” she said off-handedly out the side of her mouth, and then continued walking out the door.
Sassy stood, bewildered, her mouth working wordlessly as her poor brain tried to process everything that had happened. “Well,” she said finally, “I guess it’s unanimous.”
Rarity giggled, and Sassy couldn’t help but join in, feeling better about this already.
Out on the sidewalk, Pinkie Pie giggled to herself. “No, that is the magic of the Incognito Cart,” she said aloud to nopony in particular.
Author's Note
“This might make an interesting story someday.”
“Are you trying to bring Pinkie back?”
