Wicked Temptation

One who didn’t know Pinkie Pie would think she was overworking herself with how she was speeding around the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner, but this was actually a slow pace for her. The earth pony was whizzing around like a pastel blur, rolling dough and mixing batter. She was doing a miraculous job of keeping the noise down while the town of Ponyville slept around her.

She opened the oven and fished out a large cake, coloured purple with some big pink stars on the top, its edges lined with fluffy frosting. The sight and smell was perfect, and she allowed herself a satisfied smile. She lifted up a spoon and looked at her flour-coated reflection in it.

“Alrighty, Pinkie,” she said to herself, “Twilight is coming in a couple of days, and you’ve gotta get her ‘Welcome Back to Ponyville Even If It’s Just a Visit’ party just right.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” her deformed reflection scoffed. “Nopony knows Twilight’s preferences better than you. You’ve got the vanilla ice cream cake down pat, enough red balloons to lift Ponyville into the air, and there won’t be a single quesadilla in sight.”

“But what if the cake’s too vanilla-y?” worried Pinkie, her ears flopping. “What if I’m a red balloon short? What if a quesadilla sneaks in? You know what they’re like: too cheesy for their own good sometimes. Maybe I oughta do a few more batches, just to make su–”

She suddenly slapped a hoof across her face.

“Get a hold of yourself, mare!” her reflection demanded. “You’re Pinkie Pie - Ponyville’s Party Pony P…extraordinaire! You’ve got this covered, and everypony’s gonna love it. Especially Twilight.”

Pinkie took a deep breath. “You’re right, me,” she said. “I’m gonna focus on making sure everypony has a great time at the party. And if any hitches pop up, I’ll fix ‘em up Pinkie style.”

“Attagirl,” said her reflection. “Now get back out there!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Pinkie saluted and set down the spoon. She took a moment to reflect on what had just happened, then made a decision. “I need some sleep.”

A yawn escaping her, she walked toward the door… then zipped back to the counter, her eyes bugging out. The cake was still there, but she didn’t remember using black colouring for the batter. And those stars were certainly pink, not dark spooky purple. And the frosting was certainly white, not dark creepy blue.

Pinkie furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “Now what in the hay happened here?” she wondered. She reached into her puffy pink mane and fished out a cookbook, and started flipping through its pages with her eyes darting. “Did I use a messed up recipe? That’s how a cake ends up crazy.”

She found the recipe and checked it six times, then a lucky seventh for good measure, but she’d followed it to the letter. And she was certain she’d made it cute and friendly, not spooky and unpleasant.

Her nose wiggled as the scent of vanilla and frosting flowed into it. It certainly smelled right… in fact, it smelled the rightest any cake ever smelled. And she should know. It smelled so right that she was tempted to take a bite.

“A good baker’s gotta taste test,” she said sagely. “And this is just a test cake anyway - I can always whip up another.”

With that, she took a hearty chomp from the edge of the cake, getting dark batter and frosting all over her face. She gulped down the mouthful and her eyes widened. A bolt of black lightning danced across her eyes. It was delicious. The most delicious cake she’d ever baked. The most delicious cake she’d ever tasted.

She took another, larger bite.

She wanted more.

A larger bite.

She needed more.

Pinkie used her hooves to shovel globs of the dark treat into her maw, grunting and snorting like a pig. But not only had she not noticed this desperation to devour, she was also oblivious to the physical change she was undergoing. Her bright pink coat and poofy mane and tail were turning a darker shade, as if she were standing out of the light. Her cutie mark, a trio of bright balloons, also took on a darker shade and, peculiarly, swelled up as if more air had been pumped into them.

Quite fitting, as when she’d licked the cake tin clean of any crumbs and icing, her stomach was rather resembling a swollen balloon itself. An ominous dark pink balloon.

“Oh, that was the yummiest cake I ever did bake!” she chirped, her eyes still as blue as a cloudless daytime sky. “I dunno how I did it, but I know I’ve gotta do it again!”

She prepared herself to start whizzing around the kitchen again, but then paused to peer out the window at the town outside. Another bolt of black lightning danced around her eyes, and a big grin crossed her muzzle.

“It wouldn’t be fair if Twilight got such a scrummilicious cake all to herself,” she said. “It’s so good, everypony should get a taste!”

And with newfound vigour, Pinkie Pie sped around the bakery…