Coal smoldered merrily under rows of sizzling, slowly rotating ponies as the sun crawled to bed behind the mountains. Smoke and little flames from the dripping fat licked and caressed their lean, roast bodies, spreading a sweet, heavenly scent among the chatting dragons. Laughs and fragments of conversation drifted around Spike like eddies as he wandered through the crowd, carrying his plate and grinning at every dragon he knew.
“Lookin' real good, Crackle!”
“Ruargh!”
“You got it!”
“Yo, Spike mah dragon!”
“Hey, long time no see, Bruta! Good luck in the ring tonight.”
“Hah, don't need no luck, Spiky!”
“Damn straight—Heya Tiny! How's your brother?”
“Whoya call tiny?!”
“Ha ha, just pulling your tail. It's good to see you.” Spike gave Tiny a toothy grin and a friendly jab on the shoulder. “Say hi to your brother for me, right?”
Tiny glared at him and gave him a hit in return, which very nearly sent him flying. “Watch yourself, squirt!”
Spike laughed and turned around, coming face to face with the lean and tender body of a young pony on a spit. A large fire ruby cut like an apple glittered in its mouth as it slowly rotated over the fire, sizzling and hot. Spike licked his chops and leaned over to have a sniff at the honey and pepper glazed flank. “Sssweet!”
“That's the smell of perfection, little guy.” Spike looked up at the grinning face of a dragon wearing a black apron with the words Master of the Grill on the front and a tall chef's toque—also black—on her head. She grabbed a large bottle and doused the pony in the thick, golden-red contents, then slapped it on the rump and leaned over to grin down at Spike. “Hungry, eh? Best meat's on the rump if you ask me, and you do, of course.”
Spike caught himself drooling and licked his lips before pointing at the hind leg of the pony. “I want that leg,” he said, not taking his eyes off the prize. He could already taste the tender meat between his teeth and feel how it would be nearly melting on his tongue.
The chef grabbed the leg of the pony and pulled. Sizzling meat tore and bone cracked as the leg was separated from the body. A few warm drops of juices sprayed on Spike's face. He licked it off greedily as he watched the chef layer the whole leg on a bun and sprinkle it with rubies.
“Bon appétit!” The chef handed him the pony sandwich. “The best roast you'll ever taste, on my honor.”
“Thanks!”
Spike turned around and sat down in the grass with the leg held in front of him. He lifted it up and closed his eyes as he breathed in the spiced aroma, taking in all the many different scents. Spike sighed and licked the sauce dripping off his claws. It was so sweet he could almost cry.
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Spike opened his mouth wide and took a big bite out of the leg.
A loud cry woke him from his sleep.
***
“AAAARGH!”
Twilight Sparkle kicked out and hit Spike, causing the young dragon to lose his grip on her hind leg and tumble off the edge of the bed. He hit the wall and groaned as he landed on the floor, suddenly awake and aware of a lot of pain.
“SPIKE!” Twilight was awake too and looking less than happy as she rubbed her sore hind leg. “What the hay was that for?” she demanded.
“I'm so sorry, Twilight!” Spike burst out by reflex, still dazed and not fully awake yet. “I … I must have been dreaming and … and …” He stopped and sniffed the air. A delightful but mysterious scent of eggs and freshly baked bread wafted up from below. “Who's cooking?”
Twilight sniffed the air and looked at the clock. “At six in the morning?” she complained and disappeared back under her blankets. “The ponies in this town are crazy! Go see who it is, and bother them for something to eat if you're so hungry. As long as it's not my leg!” she grumbled somewhere under the blankets.
Spike shrugged and got up, dusting himself off and climbing down the stairs in the darkness. He could hear mysterious noises from the kitchen, but what was the most scary thing that could sneak into the kitchen to make unsolicited breakfast in the morning? Spike's imagination began to whir into action, fueled by the night's culinary imagery. He had gone from “a giant dragon-sucking vampire spider” to “a half-wyvern zombie troll cook with a pre-dawn hankerin' for baby roast dragon” by the time he reached the door.
Shaking slightly from the images in his mind, he gently pushed the door open a crack and peeked inside. A tantalizing wave of scents hit him just as the singing began.
Spike drew a breath of relief and opened the door fully. “Oh, hi Pinkie Pie.”
Pinkie launched the fried eggs high in the air like pancakes and caught them expertly while doing a little pirouette. “Morning, Spike! You like your eggs fried on both sides, right? I got everything just the way you like it.”
“Um, you know I do,” he said and walked into the kitchen, giving the large spread of breakfast currently in the making a look. “If you don't mind me asking, why are you here cooking breakfast at six in the morning? Shouldn't you be at work?”
“Emergency cooking!” Pinkie dropped the eggs back on the flame to fry some more and opened the oven to pull out a plate of fresh, steaming-hot muffins. “My Pinkie Sense told me that a dragon would be hungry, so I came as quickly as I could! Tadaa!” The muffins were left on the table.
“That … makes sense,” Spike said and gave up. You didn't argue with Pinkie Sense. He sat down at the table and picked up a burning hot muffin. He liked muffins alright—they were best when burning hot—and all the other food his pony friends served him. He ate gems as often as he could get away with it because gems were his favorite snack. It wasn't a half bad life for a dragon, but …
He took a big bite of the muffin and watched Pinkie as she danced back and forth to some happy tune. The best meat is on the rump, oh yes. Spike's eyes were lost on the dancing tail in front of him, tempting him to take a bite. So round and shapely, not too lean or too fat, grown on prime hay and cupcakes, and constant exercise had made it tender and sweet …
Spike surreptitiously licked off a bit of drool as Pinkie spun around and dropped the eggs in front of him. “Eat up, Spike,” she said cheerfully. “Can't have our itty bitty Spikey Wikey going around hungry. Want some hot sauce with that?”
Pinkie had poured half a bottle over his muffins and eggs before he could say “Sure.”
Spike sank and stared at the spread before him. All this food … Sweet Celestia, and there was this pony, standing in his view among muffins and eggs drenched in hot sauce. He could see the muscles of her neck and smell the beat of her heart, that big, pounding organ of raw muscle and blood …
Dragons ate ponies. It was a fact of life. He had read about it in one of the books Twilight had acquired after she discovered a serious and inexcusable lack of books on that topic in the library. Dragons needed meat. It was essential to their diet, just like gems.
His tongue crept out between his lips again despite his best attempt at holding it back. He was staring at her now, and she was staring back expectantly, oblivious to his current fantasies about dousing her in hot sauce and digging through her warm innards for the mushy, half-digested stuff in her gut. The book had explained quite graphically about that.
“I … I have to get out!” Spike said and dropped the rest of the first muffin before leaping for the door.
“But you didn't even eat anything!” He heard Pinkie call after him just before the door slammed behind him.
***
“Doesn't anypony sell meat?”
“ 'course not, Sugarcube. What on earth would ponies sell meat for?” Applejack parked her wagon near the center of the market square and gave it a good kick. It unfolded in one smooth motion to present a wide selection of apples. “Ah've got apples for ya, how 'bout that? Sweet and juicy, the best of the best crop.” She held up a shiny red apple for him.
Spike took it and groaned. He had never really looked at Applejack this way before, but she was like a walking prime beef. All that raw muscle, not an ounce of fat.
Seeing the look of disappointment and desperation on his face, Applejack looked around and pointed towards another stall. “Well, uh, miss Cereal sells wheat, that sounds a bit like meat. Would that do, Sugarcube? Ah hear it's good for, uh, wheatballs and …” Applejack scratched her head. “… wheat dogs,” she said hopefully. “Pinkie swears by them doggies, sure enough.”
“What about the pigs and sheep on your farm?” Spike gave the apple an idle sniff to take his mind off the mountain of muscle in front of him.
“Heavens to Betsy, Spike, you must be pullin' mah tail.” Applejack looked horrified. “Li'l Piggington and her pigs help us find truffles, and the sheep give us wool for clothes.” She gave her hat a little nudge with a hoof. “None of 'em's for eatin'. Heavens!”
“Oh.” Spike took a bite of the apple, feeling downcast. The marketplace was making his stomach growl and mouth water at all the food and, more importantly, the ponies milling about getting ready to begin the day. It was almost unbearable, a market full of ponies and not a single one he could eat. “Thanks anyway.”
He had to get somewhere where he wouldn't be reminded of food.
***
You couldn't eat clothes. Clothes were safe from hunger. And surely he could never even contemplate eating the beautiful Rarity either. It was the perfect plan! He could spend all day helping Rarity and not think of food at all. Encouraged by this reasoning, Spike raised his claw and pushed open the door of the boutique. The bell above the door gave a melodious chime as he stepped inside.
Rarity's exquisite voice rang out from elsewhere in the shop. “A moment, if you will!”
Spike took the time to look around the front room. The room was crowded with dress forms showing off the latest in high fashion. None of it looked remotely edible unless you were a moth, maybe, and Rarity would have none of such creepy crawlers in her boutique. It was perfect.
Hoof steps on the stairs preceded Rarity's arrival. She lit up in a bright smile at the sight of the young dragon. “Spike? What a wonderful surprise,” she sang.
She was even more stunning than ever, somehow. It had to be impossible and certainly illegal, but she shone like a flawless million carat diamond in Spike's eyes. Something so precious should be allowed to age to ripe perfection … it would be a crime against the culinary arts to eat her now, like some common gemstone.
When she saw he didn't look to be in need of anything, Rarity quickly decided to make use of him. “And just in time to help me with my new rainbow collection, too,” she said and blinked her big sapphire eyes while brushing a strand of amethyst hair away from her face.
Spike drooled slightly, which Rarity quite naturally took as a “Yes.”
“Excellent!” she said and trotted elegantly up the stairs. Spike floated along behind her, lost in her sparkling perfection. “Please hold this,” she chimed and dropped several layers of fabric in his outstretched claws. “Ooh, and these!” A box of gems was added to the pile.
Spike balanced unsteadily at the top of the stairs, then stumbled down the hall and into Rarity's workshop. He stopped dead and dropped the materials on the floor.
“Oh, no no no no!” Rarity moaned. “Wake up, Rainbow Dash! We're making history here, this is no time to sleep! My dear, you are simply a mess!”
Rainbow Dash, happily snoozing where she was standing, awoke with a snort and looked around in bewilderment. “Wha—aww,” she moaned. “I'm just standing here doing nothing anyway, why can't you just work while I sleep?”
“Because,” Rarity said importantly while checking a seam, “it is not becoming! You must stand proud and firm like a rock, the better to show off your glory in this dress!”
“But it's barely even seven,” Rainbow groaned. “Can't history wait for after lunch?”
“No! Now stand up straight! Lift up that head! And your tail! Puff up that chest! Spread those glorious wings of yours! Hold your leg like this! Show off your strength and beauty! Whatever would the Wonderbolts say if they saw you slumped over like … like some spineless nematode! You're a proud pegasus warrior, one of Celestia's finest, so pleeeeease act like one!”
The argument continued. It was obvious that Rainbow Dash's nonchalance infuriated Rarity, who had very clear ideas about how a proper pegasus should look and act. But all Spike could do was stare in drop-jawed awe at the wonder now standing at attention on the little dais. Rainbow Dash was dressed in a flowing dress, currently unfinished, but absolutely blinding with gems in every color of the rainbow. And under that dress was the pegasus, that perfectly sculpted specimen of physical perfection, posing proudly like some ancient statue worked by the hooves of master craftsponies before the dawn of time.
Her lean, muscular body with a chest and shoulders sculpted in stone, her neck stretched so proudly that Spike swore he could see the blood pumping in the large veins, and those finely preened wings now famous all across Equestria … Rainbow Dash was a prize pony, THE prize pony possibly. What Spike wouldn't give to sink his teeth into those powerful flight muscles and taste the blood of that awesome heart. And here she was, posing proudly before him while draped in enough gems to blind the sun. Rarity might as well have doused her in a tub of hot sauce and stuffed an apple in her mouth.
“Uh, what are you staring at, Spike?” Rainbow Dash said and glanced at the little dragon out of the corner of her eyes. What Spike heard was, “Oh Spike, yes, please eat me!”
“Spike! I am touched that you find my dress so stunning,” Rarity was saying somewhere, “but it is not polite to drool. Please cease it right this instant and clean up the floor!” What Spike heard was, “I made this pony just for you, Spike. She's all yours!”
It was more than the young drake could take.
“Hey! What are you—ARGH!”
Spike had jumped at Rainbow Dash and, in the moment of surprise, sunk his teeth in her neck. That was as far as he got before the pegasus reared up and struck him in the chest with a pair of hooves. The thing about Rainbow Dash was that those gleaming muscles were not just for show. Her front hooves packed a serious punch! All the air had left Spike's lungs before he hit the wall across the room and tore down several dress forms and shelves in the fall.
“He bit me!” Rainbow Dash growled. “Look, I'm bleeding! That scaly little rat bit me!”
“Watch the dress!” Rarity cried, knowing her priorities. “Don't you DARE get blood on that dress!”
Spike stumbled back on his legs. “I-I'm so sorry!” he cried and stumbled for the door. The sight and more importantly the taste of Rainbow's blood, the gleaming gems and flexing muscles … it was too much. He had to get away before he hurt his friends … more than he already had, at least.
“I'll get you, you little—” Rainbow called after him. The other thing about Rainbow Dash was that she was fast! She would be upon him before he could even look surprised, and then there would be trouble.
“Oh no, you won't! Not in MY dress!” Rarity interrupted, and somewhere behind the fleeing dragon Rainbow Dash cried out in frustration as she was pulled back forcefully.
Spike didn't stop to look around as he fled the scene, stumbling out of the boutique and into the light of day. He was losing it. He had to get something to eat, right now!
***
Chickens!
Heeere chick-chick-chick-chick-chick, bwooock, bwock bwock bwock bwock bwock b-bwooock!
Sweet delicious chickens!
Spike dived under the chicken coop and reached out just in time, his claws grasping the leg of a large corn fed chicken. It flapped its wings wildly, squawked madly and tried to peck the claw holding it. Spike had thick scales however. It would take more than a chicken's beak to scratch his hand.
He crawled back out and grabbed the catch tightly. Its fluttering wings got in his face and nearly made him lose his grip before he managed to get both hands around it, holding the wings down. The damn thing wouldn't stop screeching. Well, it soon would, and surely no one would miss a single chicken or two. Fluttershy had so many, anyway.
Spike opened his mouth wide and gaped over the chicken's head. The horrified fowl stared down the dragon's dark throat and clucked its last cluck.
There was a slight tap on Spike's shoulder. He turned around, chicken still in his mouth, and looked up into Fluttershy's light blue eyes. The yellow pegasus scratched the ground shyly and looked out from behind her pink mane. “Um, I was just wondering, if you don't mind me asking that is, but … WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, MISTER?!” Her eyes flared up like cyan flames threatening to scorch his black soul with holy judgment.
Spike shrank back and dropped the terrified chicken, which hit the ground much like a stone. “I-I—”
“I am very disappointed in you, Spike. Eating poor Elizabeak? You should feel ashamed of yourself,” Fluttershy said and narrowed her eyes. “I have half a mind to tell Twilight what you've been up to here! Now you apologize to my chickens, and if I ever catch you in my chicken coop again …” she left the threat hanging, giving him a good long stare.
Spike looked down. “I'm sorry.”
***
The rock flew down the road and collided with another. Spike sighed and kicked another small rock whose only crime was being in his way on the road. He couldn't eat his friends, and they wouldn't let him eat any of their animals. Not even one little chicken. But he had to eat, or he would surely go crazy, and … and maybe he would never grow to be a real dragon if he didn't get any meat.
Dum dum di dum …
Spike kicked another rock and watched it hit a tree by the side of the road. He turned and glanced towards the dark tree line of the forest in the distance. Maybe he could go hunting in the Everfree Forest, except that by all laws of probability he would be the one hunted instead. Most of the creatures living there had teeth larger than himself.
Dum badum di dum dum …
What was that grating voice now? Spike looked around until he spotted a patch of amber and turquoise among the fields headed for the forest. Oh, that annoying voice.
Da da dum di dum di dum …
Snails paused to scratch his ear and looked around with a blank look on his face. Spike had never liked the kid very much, along with his bothersome and ever-present friend … well, almost always present, it seemed. They were never anything but trouble. Spike approached slowly and hid behind a tree to watch.
A nasty thought entered Spike's mind as Snails continued through the field, oblivious to his watcher … and just about everything else. Nothing much seemed to move between those giant ears of his, it was probably mostly empty space. And no pony would miss him much, was Spike's thought.
Oh, and he was on his way to the forest, or close enough. He could easily be snatched up by something with teeth larger than Spike, and no pony would think much of that, so what difference did it make if it was Spike who snatched him up? Not much of a difference at all, really.
Although … he sure was ugly, and way too lanky. Probably nothing but skin and bones and a little bit of unpleasant meat. Spike's stomach grumbled in annoyance. The dragon looked around. But of course, when your options were limited you made do with what you could get.
Dum dum dum di da dum …
Snails stopped and bent over with his head in the grass. An easy prey, standing right there for anyone to grab. Monster or dragon, it didn't matter, but might as well be dragon if it had to be anything.
Spike moved out from behind the tree and sneaked closer until he was right behind the young colt, then he jumped. Unfortunately, at the exact same moment, Snails decided to turn around and took a step to the left. Spike dropped flat on his belly in the grass.
“Huh?” Snails looked up, a large snail held between his teeth. “You out gathering snails too, eh?” he droned, his voice even more unbearable having to move around a snail's shell.
Spike gave a grunt of annoyance as he got back up and dusted himself off. “No, I'm here to eat you!” He turned around to face the colt. “Although … I'm having second thoughts right now,” he said and grimaced at the sight up close. No monster with respect for itself would eat this, given any kind of choice.
The colt laughed in that way only a fool could laugh. “That's a good one, eh.”
“Is that … a snail in your teeth?” Spike stared at the slimy little critter. “What do you need snails for anyway?”
Snails dropped his namesake in a basket and put the lid back on. Spike caught sight of several snails crawling all over the inside. “I sell em, eh.” He snatched up another from the grass and dropped it in the basket with the others. This continued.
“Who would buy a snail?” Spike followed the colt and prodded a big snail crawling on a rock. Perhaps it thought the rock was another snail he thought and said, “They're not really good for anything, are they?”
“I sell em to griffons most of the time,” Snails explained and grabbed the snail. “Very fancy stuff, very foreign, eh. They cook em with garlic and stuff. Very expensive, eh.”
Spike felt his stomach growl. “They … cook them? Like … to eat?”
“Yup, that's what they do. Pretty good eatin' if you ain't a pony, cause we don't eat that sort of food, eh.” He stopped and turned back towards the city. “I could make you some if you like, eh? Ma's got an old book of recipes by some fancypants griffon.”
“I …” Spike scratched his head. Well, it was meat, wasn't it? And it was better than eating little ponies who wandered too close to the forest, not to mention better than eating his friends. He looked at Snails. It couldn't be worse than the dopey kid in front of him.
“Sure, why not?”
***
“This stuff is amazing!” Spike told himself and popped another garlic dripping snail in his mouth, chewing happily as he pushed open the door to the library.
“SPIKE!”
Oh … yeah …
The door shut behind him with an ominous sound, and Twilight loomed in front of him. Behind her lurked five very serious ponies. Spike shrank back a little, holding the bag of snails protectively in front of himself. “I-I'm so sorry, you guys! I can explain!”
“Oh, you had better!” Twilight said and looked down at him.
Spike grasped the bag nervously. “Well, you see, I was just so terribly hungry.” He gave Rainbow Dash a look and licked his lips slightly, despite himself. She had dropped the bejeweled dress and instead wore a slightly bloodied bandage around her neck. “I just couldn't help myself.”
“You bit me!” Rainbow complained, then looked a little conflicted. “I mean, I know I AM pretty awesome and I guess it's not your fault that I'm the most delicious pony ever, and that no dragon could resist my …” she trailed off as everyone turned to stare at her. “Uh … I-I mean, it's sort of flattering, but we're your friends and all.”
There was a brief pause before Pinkie broke the awkward silence. “Yeah, you don't eat your friends, Spike!”
“Or their, um, chickens …”
“I know,” Spike said and looked down at his feet. “I'm really, really, really sorry for biting you and chasing your chickens. It won't happen again, I swear!”
Twilight walked up to him to give him a hug but quickly recoiled, face contorted in a grimace of pure disgust. “Whew! What a stench! Have you been raiding the garlic fields or what?”
“Oh—” Spike lit up and held out the bag of snails. “It's just snails, it's really fancy and totally awesome. Snails showed me a recipe and he's agreed to provide me with more so I don't have to eat ponies.” He dug around in the bag and fished out a big one, dangling it in his claws before letting it drop down on his tongue where it slithered down his throat. “Want one?”
“Eeeew, Spiiiike!” Pinkie wailed and turned green in the face while Rarity fainted and the others looked away.
“What? They're good!” Spike shook his head and looked at another snail. “Ponies don't know what's good.”
