Pinkie sighed contentedly as she opened the oven door, releasing a delightful smell into the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner. She opened a window, the smell wafting down the street and causing the ponies nearby to drool, before placing the cake she'd baked onto a wire rack. Humming a tune, she picked up a bowl of icing and began slathering it all over her creation as if it was mortar and the cake a brick.
Once the cake was covered in a layer - or two - of icing, Pinkie applied the final touches; sweets spelling out the words ‘Congratulations on your new job.' She admired her creation for a moment, resisting the urge to eat it herself, then set about the task of tidying up the kitchen.
While she worked, she made sure to keep an eye on the cake; as she finished mopping the floor, a stallion wearing a suit and a fedora suddenly leapt into the kitchen via the open window.
"Thanks for da cake," he said. "Da boss is gonna love it."
Pinkie giggled. "Silly stallion, that's not your cake," she replied. "Unless you're here to collect it, and they told you to put on a silly voice while you pretend to steal it— oh, wait, you are stealing it." The stallion leapt out of the window. "HEY! DON'T MAKE ME GET MY CANNON!"
"Just try it and see what happens, dollface," the stallion replied. "Youse ain't got the cojones to mess with us; just back off and save yourself da bother, capiche?" With those words, he ran off down the street.
Pinkie leapt out of the window after him, only to see him getting into a car; another stallion was behind the wheel, and another was leaning out of an open window holding what appeared to be a Tommy gun.
"I got da goods!" the cake thief yelled as he got into the car. "Hit da gas and let's get outta here; dis thing ain't gonna deliver itself!"
Pinkie growled and ran over to a car nearby; Applejack was behind the wheel, waiting for Big Macintosh to finish smooching Sugar Belle long enough to start loading the groceries. Pinkie rushed up to the driver's door and knocked on the window, which Applejack rolled down.
"Howdy, sugarcube," she said. "What cin I— hey!"
Pinkie opened the door, then pulled Applejack out and tossed her aside as though she was a bag of yesterday's leftovers. Big Mac and Sugar Belle removed their tongues from each other's mouths and watched as Pinkie started the car and took off in the blink of an eye.
"I'll bring it back later!" Pinkie yelled, her voice drowned out by a steady stream of creative profanities from Applejack.
The cake thieves were shocked when Pinkie ground the front bumper of her car against their rear. They looked out the back window and saw the malevolent grin on her face, made all the more unsettling by the fact that her mane was completely flat and devoid of its usual bounce.
"Dis mare is crazy!" the driver said. "Youse guys didn't say nothin' about her chasin' us across town like some kinda psycho!"
"Keep drivin'!" the one with the gun said. "Should be easy ta lose her in the back streets; dis place has got a lot of dem we can use."
"Come on, boys!" Pinkie shouted. "Give me the cake, and we can all be friends again!"
The driver responded by putting pedal to the metal; the car's engine roared as it was pushed to the limit, but Pinkie easily kept pace with them. She made a mental note to thank Applejack for buying such a fast car, provided she wasn't turned into fertiliser.
The stallion's car pulled into a side street and came to a stop outside a dimly lit building; the three of them got out and ran inside as Pinkie stopped nearby.
"Gotcha," she said malevolently. "Nopony steals treats from Pinkie Pie and gets away with not apologising."
She entered the building, following the hushed voices to a room in which the three thieves stood behind a table, upon which sat the cake. Behind the table was a large leather chair which faced the far wall. As Pinkie walked into the room, she was met with slow clapping, which wasn't coming from any of the stallions.
"Well done, Pinkie," a fourth voice said. "You managed to follow my guys to where they were delivering the package."
Pinkie sighed. "I don't know who you are, buster, but this isn't funny any more," she said. "I like a prank as much as the next pony, but this has gone too far. I'm taking this cake, and I'm going to deliver it to the young mare who ordered it; she got a new job recently, and this cake is for her celebration party."
"That's all very well and good," the mystery voice replied. "But there's one tiny problem with your plan."
Pinkie rolled her eyes. "And what would that be, hmm?" she asked.
"The problem is…" the chair turned around. "I'm the mare who ordered it."
Pinkie stared in silent horror at the pony sitting on the seat; they let out a small giggle and threw their forelegs in the air.
"Surprise!" Twist said with her usual lisp. "I'm a crime boss!"
Pinkie snapped back into reality; turning on the spot, she began to walk away.
"Nope," she muttered. "This is too weird, even for me; I'd rather face Applejack than deal with this nonsense."
The stallions roared with laughter as they turned to face Twist, who was watching Pinkie leave with a large smile on her face.
"Dat was brilliant, boss!" one of the stallions said. "So, wot's da plan now?"
Twist suddenly produced a knife and turned it around to offer him the handle. He took it with some trepidation and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"What are you waiting for, Hearth's Warming?" Twist asked. "Cut it, but remember that I get the biggest piece."
