Chapters Mr. Cake sighed contentedly as he flipped through Ponies magazine and sat behind the counter. These were his favorite days of the year- not too hot, not too cold, and everypony was on vacation. And this day was extra special- it was only his second away from the twins since their birth. His wife was taking them to see their grandparents in Trottingham, so he took over the register from Pinkie and grabbed a little something to read.
Most male ponies didn’t read Ponies magazine, since it usually only covered the famous ponies you’d never meet in a thousand years and was filled with tips on how to keep your coltfriend on a short leash. Mr. Cake secretly enjoyed following the famous ponies through their lives, but he hadn’t been able to pick up a copy since the twins. His life seemed to revolve around those little foals. Even if they just ate, burped, and popped up on the other side of the room without him realizing, they were his foals, and cute to boot.
So Mr. Cake was understandably flustered when two ponies walked through the glass doors, setting off the bell. He quickly picked up the magazine with his teeth and threw it behind a stack of muffin trays. After making sure he was safe, he looked up to see the new customers looking at him, or at least one was.
“Hey, Carrot. How are things?” asked Dr. Whooves, longtime friend of the Cakes.
“Just fine, Doc, just fine. Who’s this?” asked Mr. Cake, pointing a hoof at the yellow maned mare next to him.
“This is Derpy. Derpy Hooves,” he said, smiling slightly. Carrot thought for a second, back to his high school days, when Doc made that face around that filly with the blue hair. He smiled broadly.
“Nice to meet you!” he said, extending a hoof to the pegasus, who was currently facing away from the counter.
“Wow, I haven’t been here in forever! There’s so much more food!” she said, one eye locked on the muffins under the glass. The other looked at Mr. Cake. “Did you make these?”
Mr. Cake didn’t respond for a second, taking in the fact that this was the third or so pony he had met with eyes like this. He would have to ask her if she knew a certain Ruby Stone, or maybe Ember… he snapped back to the conversation, shaking off the memories of his friends from years past.
“Well, to be honest, no. Me and my wife handle the cakes, cup form or regular sized. Pinkie made those masterpieces,” said Carrot, shifting his eyes to the numerous delicacies under the display case. “In fact, she makes too many sometimes, and I end up giving them out for free.”
At this, Derpy nearly fainted. “I know Pinkie! She threw me a party that one time! Or more like three or four… maybe five times. And there was that time when I came here last year...” she stopped, turning slightly green at the memory.
“Oh, that was a onetime slip up, and it wasn’t even Pinkie! I won’t mention who, but I know it hurt business for a while… but these are the best baked goods in town!”
“I guess I just kinda stayed away after that. Sorry. And thanks, Whoovsy, for bringing me back. Why didn’t you do it sooner, though? You know I love muffins,” pouted Derpy, staring at the Doctor. A slight blush of embarrassment showed up on his face at the nickname.
“Well, Derpy, you live all the way on the other side of town, and I only just met you last month when you stopped by my office, “he answered, and, in a lower voice, “ and I thought I told you not to call me that around other ponies, Derpy.”
“But it’s so funny to see you get embarrassed! Plus it’s way too official to call you Doctor or Mister, Whoovsy!” retorted Derpy, smiling.
The doctor sighed, eventually relenting and cracking a smile in Derpy’s direction. Mr. Cake had watched the whole conversation unfold, and was struggling to contain a laugh.
“So what can I get you today,” asked Carrot, about to burst into giggles, “Whoovsy?”
Dr. Whooves glared as Carrot fell over from laughter, knocking into the stack of muffin trays. He continued glaring as he got up, and didn’t stop until Derpy poked him in the side.
“Why was he laughing, Whoovsy? And why are you angry?” she asked, innocently.
“It’s… it’s nothing, Derpy. He’s just an old friend,” answered the doctor, his glare softening. “An old friend who knows how to hit the right buttons,” he added, looking down.
“What buttons? I didn’t know you came with buttons!”
“Never mind, Derpy. Just, can we just get a tray of muffins and a booth, please?” sighed the Doctor.
“You got it, Whoovsy!” said Mr. Cake, merrily. “I mean, Doc! That’s what I said, of course.”
“I was actually planning on something, Carrot, but I’m not really in the right mindset to be doing that now, am I?” He whispered, angrily. His eyes wandered to where Derpy floated, one eye checking to see if they were fighting yet, and the other constantly on the muffins.
“What were you going to do? Ask that pretty mare out?”
“What? How did you- I mean, I- I wouldn’t-“he stuttered, then sighed. “Yes. That is what I came to do- I must’ve forgotten what you were like. I thought maybe a married life would make you a more mature stallion, but I guess I was wrong there-“
“Hey! I am more mature, thank you very much! I just really like messing with you, Whoo- Doc. See? I can stop any time I want.”
“I hate you.”
“It’s okay, Doc. Let it all out. Uncle Carrot can keep a secret.” He said, patting Doctor Whooves on the head. “And, it won’t be a secret for long! Just ask her! I mean, she seems to like you well enough! And that is what you were planning, right?” he added, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes! I am a stallion, if you must know. I can do it!” he said, his voice intending to sound confident but coming out as more defensive than anything.
“You keep telling yourself that, Doc,” Carrot said, wistfully, as he leaned back from hitting range.
“Why you little-“he said, swiping with a hoof, but Carrot had indeed anticipated it. Derpy flew over, prepared to stop the doctor from trying to leap over the counter again. However, Doc put his hoof back on the floor of the bakery, turning towards to pegasus as he did so.
“It’s quite alright, Derpy. I would never seriously injure Carrot. Maybe a little bit, but he was always faster. Let’s sit, shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the booth closest to the window. Derpy flew over, knocking over a small table or two on the way, but mostly fine nonetheless. The doctor, having reached the booth first, watched Derpy extricate herself from a nasty four legged chair with some amusement, and something else- something that caused his cheeks to quietly turn a shade of red and his smile to turn a bit goofier.
He was still smiling when Derpy sat down opposite him, looking at him with one eye while the other glared at the chair.
“Whoovsy?” Derpy piped up, prodding the stallion in the face. “Oh! Sorry, I was aiming for your shoulder… sorry.”
“It’s quite alright, Derpy…” murmured Dr. Whooves, seemingly somewhere else. “I’ll recover.”
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Mr. Cake pulled some muffins from the baskets in the back, choosing three chocolate and three blueberry. He grabbed an extra chocolate one for himself, placing the tray on his back. On his way to the front counter, he noticed that his collision with the stack of muffin trays had uncovered his Ponies magazine. If Dr. Whooves ever found out about that, he would never hear the end of it. Never.
He pulled the magazine out with a hoof and slid it under a nearby oven, thankful he hadn’t turned them on that day. He checked the tray on his back before returning to the front of the bakery, just in time to see Derpy poke Doc in the eye.
He sidled over to the booth, dropping the tray onto the gray table and nudging it towards the center. He looked at Doc, with what he hoped was a fear- inspiring look.
“Do it.” He commanded.
“What? You can’t just expect me to-“
“I can and do.” Replied Carrot, sincerely.
“Well, I have to wait for the right time is all-“
“The right timing for what?” asked Derpy, curiously.
“Nothing Derpy, nothing,” answered Doc.
“It’s something,” retorted Carrot.
“Go. Away.” He glowered. “Now.”
“Ok, ok, sheesh. Some ponies,” Carrot sighed, defeated. He turned to move away, but not before winking at Doc. The Doc just shook his head nervously. Carrot sighed and walked over to get the mop, and started mopping a non-existent stain conspicuously close to the only occupied table.
“Did I miss something here? I used to do that when I was younger but I thought I had gotten better…” she asked Doc, sadness creeping into her voice.
“No, it’s just… How do I do this? Um, okay, so Derpy,” started Doc, nervously.
“Yeah?” she said, eyeing the muffins, her sadness forgotten when she noticed the delicious bits of baked heaven.
“I… well, you see, the thing is… I kind of… like…”
“Muffins?”
“Yes! I mean, wait, no…”
“You don’t like muffins? How could you! I thought-“
“Derpy, I love muffins as much as the next pony. What I was trying to say is that I like…” he gulped, nervously. “You.”
“Well, we are friends, Whoovsy.” Stated Derpy, obliviously.
“I… give up.” He finished, slumping onto the table.
“He means he’d like to take you out on a date, Derpy.”
“What?” said Derpy, confused.
“You know, dinner and a movie? That sort of thing?” replied Mr. Cake, mop forgotten against one of the tables. “It was sort of obvious even when he first walked in. I mean, he told me himself!”
Derpy turned to Doc, who was currently sitting with his head in his fore hooves, whispering “This can’t be happening” over and over again. One of her eyes turned back to Carrot, but the other rested on Doc.
“Is that… true?” She seemingly asked both of them, since neither eye had superiority.
“Yes, “they replied simultaneously, albeit one much sadder than the other.
“So why are you sad, Whoovsy?” questioned Derpy, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, I mean, I’ve known you for this time and I think I’ve liked you every second of it… I’ve been keeping it from you Derpy, and that makes me a terrible friend. And then, tight here, I didn’t even have the courage to tell you my feelings- Carrot had to do it.” He explained, quickly, eyes flicking towards the yellow stallion before returning to Derpy. “Yeah, I’m just a coward. Thanks for making that abundantly clear, Carrot. I’m sure you won’t want to be seeing me anymore, Derpy, so I’ll just be on my way-“he stated, moving to get up from his booth seat.
“Wait, Whoovsy! I don’t hate you! In fact, I… kinda like you too! I mean, I’ve never had anypony really like me before. Hmm, I wonder what it’s like…” Derpy wondered aloud.
“So wait… is that a yes, then?” asked Doc, amazed.
“Eeyep! Teehee! I heard Big Mac say that!” exclaimed Derpy, flapping her wings excitedly.
“It’s eeyup, Derpy… and thank you,” said Doc, sitting back in his booth.
Mr. Cake smiled. His job was done, for now. Now, all Doc had to do was not screw it up. If only Doc could have Carrot around him 24/7 to offer advice on how to handle the relationship… he smiled evilly. Maybe he would get some lessons from Pinkie Pie on popping up where you least expected him. He looked up from his thoughts to see Derpy and Doc getting up, looking at each other- or one eye of Derpy was. The other was- was that other eye on his flank?
Carrot turned a little red, but he shook his head as they approached.
“C’mon back, now, Doc. And you too, Derpy. Glad to meet you,” he said.
“You too, Carrot! Err, sorry, Mr. Cake,” responded Derpy, looking down yet again.
“It’s okay, Derpy. You can call me Carrot- I wish more people did,” he said. “Why, even Pinkie calls me Mr. Cake, and she lives upstairs!” He added.
“I’ll see you later Carrot- and thanks for everything,” Doc said, graciously. “How much do I owe you for the muffins?”
“It’s on the house, Doc. I’d say it was worth it to see you two get together!” exclaimed Carrot.
“Bye for now, Carrot,” Doc stated.
“Yeah! Bye!” Derpy called out, flapping her wings and doing a roundabout towards the door. “Last one to your office is a- a… a burnt muffin! Yeah!”
“Oh, you’re on, Derpy! Go!” shouted Doc, looking happier than Carrot had seen him in while- though, he hadn’t really seen him in a while, either. Carrot smiled as Doc rushed put the door, hot on the hooves of Derpy, who was surprisingly fast. He thought he saw Doc whooping it up as he rounded the corner, but he must’ve been seeing things- Doc was way to serious, not to mention refined for that sort of thing.
He trotted behind the counter, heading for the ovens to retrieve his magazine. Any more ponies wanted his help, they’d have to come to him. He had just bent over to retrieve the magazine when he heard the bell ring above the door.
He sighed. Couldn’t he get a moment of peace? He nudged the magazine under the oven again, and slowly got up. He turned his head and nearly had a heart attack- Pinkie was right there behind him.
“Hey Mr. Cake! How’re you doing? What was that magazine? Was that Ponies mag? I thought only mares were supposed to-“ Pinkie’s rant was cut short by the hoof of Mr. Cake.
“I’m fine, Pinkie. And… yeah, that was Ponies. Can’t I just enjoy it for what it’s worth, Pinkie?”
“Of course, Mr. Cake! I don’t think of you any less! In fact, I heard that Big Macintosh still likes to play with little dolls! He calls 'em action figures of course, but still!"
“Oh, really?” he murmured, making a note in his head to blackmail Big Mac for all it was worth. It would be sweet payback for when Big Mac threatened to tell everypony he knew that Carrot liked Ponies mag.
“Eeyup! And did I tell you who I saw outside?”
“No, I don’t thi-“
“Doctor Whooves and Derpy! They were going, like, sooo fast! And then Derpy hit a tree and Doctor Whooves helped her up, and then- and then- and then they smooched! Right in the middle of the street! Eee!” Pinkie finished, squealing in delight and hopping up and down in the back room.
Mr. Cake wondered who started that smooch- probably Derpy, given the way she was looking at Doc’s flank earlier. He smiled, recognizing that it was his work- maybe he should quit being a baker and just be a matchmaker? One thing bothered him, though.
“You know Derpy? I haven’t met her before, and she’s apparently been to the bakery before,” Mr. Cake explained.
“Well, duh! I mean, I know everypony, and I mean everypony, in Ponyville! She moved here a year ago, and she was pretty freaked out when I threw her a party that first day!” Pinkie said, wondering a bit.
“Most ponies are, Pinkie,” stated Mr. Cake.
“I know! That’s what makes it so fun! “She explained, happily.
“Well, I’m glad you’re back from- where was it again? The library? I’ll admit, not where I’d normally think you’d go, but hey,” he said, shrugging. Pinkie smiled, looking off a bit.
“Yeah, I was helping her with this crazy experiment!” she exclaimed, shaking her head whenever a new word came out of her mouth. “I mean, I don’t need to go into the details,” she said, much quieter, her face going a light crimson. “But I had lots of fun! More than usual! Maybe we even broke a record!”
Mr. Cake appraised Pinkie, before making another realization. Was everypony hooking up nowadays?
“So, uh yeah.” Pinkie said, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof. “How were things while we were all gone, Mr. Cake?”
“Just fine, Pinkie. I made something new,” he answered. “Maybe it’ll last. And just call me Carrot, Pinkie. Mr. Cake is way too formal. It’s not like I call you Ms. Pie, is it?”
“Well, no, I guess not… But I’ve always called you Mr. Cake, Mr. Cake! I mean Carrot!” gasped Pinkie, covering her mouth with a hoof. Carrot let out a short laugh.
“You’ll get used to it Pinkie, don’t worry. And I like it better.” He said, starting off towards the front of the bakery.
“Okie-dokie-lokie, Carrot! So what did you make? A new type of cupcake? Oh! A new kind of cake! No no no, wait, a big, huge, giant cookie, with thousands of chocolate chips!” she salivated, her eyes turning into large cookies. Carrot blinked, and they were regular eyes again. He shook his head.
“Well, no. You know Derpy and Doctor Whooves? How they smooched?” asked Carrot.
“What does that have to do with giant chocolate chip cookies?” interrupted Pinkie.
“Nothing, Pinkie- what I was trying to say was that I got them together. They came in here about half an hour ago as friends, and they left as more than that. All because of me.” He said, triumphantly, puffing out his chest.
“What do you mean, Carrot?” asked Pinkie, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, they liked each other, but they were too afraid to say anything. So I just said what needed to be said, and presto! And now they’re going to be so much happier.” He replied, clapping his front hooves together. Maybe he was spending too much time around Pinkie.
“Aww, Carrot! You’re so sweet!” exclaimed Pinkie, making a little happy face.
“I do run a bakery, you know, “explained Carrot. Pinkie just smiled.
“Just leave the baking puns to me, Carrot. I’ll cake up some new ones later,” said Pinkie, making that face she did whenever she was close to laughing.
“Just make sure you don’t tell any pies!” chuckled Carrot.
“Aaand that’s why I said you should leave them to me,” Pinkie said.
“Sorry.”
And Another Popped Balloon
Mr. Cake brushed off the counter with a worn out wooden duster, shaking his head to flick off near-invisible specks of dust. He stopped and gave the counter a brief look over. Satisfied, he threw the duster behind him. He flinched when he heard a crashing noise and what sounded like a cat screeching. He would get that later.
He watched the sunset from his position behind the counter, smiling slightly. The twins would be back with their mom any minute now, and they could all be together for a bit before they went to sleep. The sun was halfway behind the horizon when he heard the tinkle of a bell from his right. He glanced over to see a frenzied Twilight Sparkle, looking under tables and lifting chairs. She seemed to not see him so focused she was on her task.
“Twilight?” chanced Mr. Cake, not wanting to startle her.
“Ah!” shouted Twilight, stumbling back from a pair of sugar shakers. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were here, Mr. Cake,” she explained, rubbing a hoof behind her back.
“I do live here, you know,” said Mr. Cake, walking towards where Twilight was standing on the other side of the counter. “And, we’re kind of closed. Sorry.” Twilight looked up from yet another lifted chair, exasperated.
“Have you seen Pinkie?” she questioned, moving close to the counter.
“No, I thought she was still at the Library. That was where she was, right?”
“Yes, but something went wrong. You see, I-“
“Is she alright?” he interrupted.
“I think so, Mr. Cake, just let me explain. I was trying to see if I could make one of her cupcakes grow to several times its size, so I tried an inflation spell. However, I slipped on something on the floor of the basement, and my horn pointed right at Pinkie’s head!”
Mr. Cake gasped. A horrible thought ran through his head- a giant Pinkie Pie, bringing destruction to the whole town, unstoppable by anything the town could throw at her.
“What happened, Twilight?” he demanding, shaking her from across the glass display.
“Her head inflated, Mr. Cake! She was nearly floating off the ground!” she exclaimed, pushing Carrot’s hooves off her shoulders. “And then, she just made this face, like, ‘Oh, I know how to fix this,’” she said, doing a horrible Pinkie impression while waving her hooves around in circles.
“And she was out the door! I don’t know how she moved so fast with that giant head, or how she even fit through the door, but she was gone by the time I picked my jaw off the floor and followed her! And now I can’t find her anywhere,” she finished, slumping onto the ground. Her frown was extremely unthreatening.
“So what you’re saying is she’s a balloon now? I think she’d like that…” contemplated Carrot, a hoof to his chin.
“That’s not important! I have to find Pinkie! I think I can fix it if I find her, Mr. Cake,” Twilight said, irritated.
"Carrot,” he said.
“What?” asked Twilight, her frown turning to a quizzical look.
“Just call me Carrot, Twilight. Mr. Cake is too formal,” he explained.
“What? Your employee may or may not be floating somewhere above Ponyville right now and you’re worried about people calling your Mr. Cake instead of Carrot!” shouted Twilight, frustrated.
“I thought you just said the fact she was a balloon wasn’t important, Twilight,” retorted Mr. Cake, a hoof pointed at Twilight.
“I- you don’t- I mean- how could you even be like this right now?” demanded Twilight, hooves flailing about.
“I have a good idea where she went. She knows a pony who’s very fond of popping balloons, met him at that party we had a while back.” He said, nonchalantly.
“No! She can’t let him do that! We have to do this safely, with magic!” she gasped, looking out the door.
“Isn’t magic what got her into this mess in the first place?” Carrot said.
“Now is not the time for this, Mr. Cake,” snapped Twilight, looking back at the stallion.
“Carrot,” he said.
Twilight shouted in frustration, her horn glowing. Carrot backed up against the wall, suddenly nervous.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Twilight! I mean, she knows everypony in this town, and it looked like she knew what she was going to do. I mean, who would willingly hurt her?” Carrot asked, looking straight at Twilight.
She sighed, her face leveling.
“I guess you’re right. I mean, she’s Pinkie Pie- nopony could get close to her if they tried.” She said, looking at Carrot.
“And I think she’ll be checking the Library first, once she gets her head checked. Heh. Head checked- wondered when she’d do that, huh?” Carrot chuckled. Twilight allowed herself a small smile before getting back to business.
“So you’re saying I should go there? That’s where she’d go first?”
“I’m assuming- you are the person who’d be most likely to destroy half the town to find her.”
Twilight blushed slightly, a hoof kicking up invisible dust on the floor.
“That’s what friends are for! Yep! Friends,” said Twilight, reassuring herself. “I mean, what’s a back massage between friends, huh?”
Carrot felt incredibly awkward at this, and instead chose to nod and point a hoof out the window.
“If you want to get home before Pinkie gets there or before it gets dark, I’d say start going right about now. Wouldn’t want Pinkie to get there, leave, and come here only to discover you’ve already left, huh?”
To this, Twilight just stared. She made some calculations in her head while Carrot watched, wondering why she was so quiet.
“I need to get there in exactly forty five seconds or the scenario you just explained will happen! Unless Pinkie stops to say hi to somepony, which is likely, or if she trips, unlikely, or-“
“Just go!” interrupted Carrot, raising his hooves above his head.
“Ok!” and she dashed out the door, the bell repeatedly dinging as the door swung back and forth on its hinges.
The sun had completely set now, and Carrot wondered whether Twilight would make it in time to catch Pinkie. That is, if that friend of hers pulled through- he did say, ‘if you ever need a balloon popped, I’m your stallion’ several times during the brief conversation they shared. He shook his head- Ponyville had some funny characters, and he hadn’t even met all of them yet.
He looked over to the storage room- his Ponies magazine was still under the oven, as he hadn’t had a chance to get it before the Twins and Cup got back. He furrowed his eyebrows- he would read it, he still had time!
He checked the door out of reflex- all clear on that front. He walked past the ovens and checked the back alley- nothing but trash and leftover party supplies. He double timed it to the ovens, bending over to reach the glorious bundle of papers. He eased his snout under the metal furnace, inches away from the magazine. He stuck his tongue out- maybe he could reach it if he just stretched his tongue out a bit farther-
“Carrot?”
“Augh!’ he shouted, bumping his head into the oven, his body going flat on the ground. He shook his head and started to slide out, longingly gazing at his magazine.
Someday , he thought.
“What were you doing under the oven again? That’s the same position I found you in last night! What is under there?” she questioned, leaning over with the twins in their stroller watching with mild amusement.
“Nothing! I mean, I thought I saw some bits under there, but when I got far enough, I realized they were just some, uh, some bottle caps! And I was just about to pull my head out, but then you came in and I hit my head,” he said, mournfully rubbing his bruise.
“Oh, don’t be a baby, Carrot. Heh. Baby carrot? I made a pun, Carrot!” she laughed, smiling wide.
“I guess you did,” he said, nodding his approval. Pound Cake started laughing, then burped, paused, and continued laughing. Pumpkin followed suit. Carrot walked over and nuzzled the twins. “It’s good to know we all have the same sense of humor. We already got ‘em laughing at puns! And bad ones, too!” exclaimed Carrot, happily. The twins giggled a bit.
“Say, honey, did you see Pinkie on your way here? And did she happen to have a swelled up head?” he asked, leaning up from the carriage. Cup gave him the strangest look, which quickly changed to suspicion.
“Did you have something to do with this?” she demanded, eyebrows lowering.
“No. Well, not really. Twilight came in here looking for her but I thought she might’ve gone to her friend, the one who likes to pop balloons. You know, because her head was so swelled,” he explained, his hooves pointing to his head.
“Well, she said hi to me-“
Twilight predicted correctly on that point, he thought.
“-and said she was going to Twilight’s, because her friend couldn’t help her from turning into a ‘Pinkie balloon’, I think she called it. She was lifting off the ground, Carrot. Is she going to be alright?”
“Yeah, Twilight’s got it covered,” Carrot reassured her. “Nothing could stop that mare- if Pinkie floated up, she’d be on her trail in a hot air balloon, or something. And I think they might be, uh, you know,” he said, cracking a small smile and winking.
“What?” she asked.
“You know,” he encouraged, winking multiple times. Cup pondered for a second, and then her face lit up.
“Oh! Well, Twilight had better know what she’s getting into, then. I’m not entirely sure anypony can handle so much- well, Pinkie. Did you ask them about it?” she inquired, smiling brightly.
“Well, no,” he admitted. “So don’t go telling everypony you see. Or anypony. Actually, just forget I mentioned it,” he stated.
“Ok, Carrot. Honestly, I don’t think anypony would care- you saw how everypony reacted when Lyra and Bon-Bon got engaged. There wasn’t a sore face in the crowd!” she stated, triumphantly.
“Yeah, I guess- but I think both of them aren’t really sure where they stand, so it’s best to drop it for now,” Carrot finished, adjusting his hat.
“Drop what?”
“Augh!” both Cakes shouted. The twins broke out in laughter, having seen the pink pony walk down the stairs. They were not yet old enough to realize Pinkie should’ve come through the front door, and they might not ever be, considering they would be in the same building for a number of years.
“Oh, it’s just you Pinkie. Why didn’t I hear the bell ring?” he asked, looking at the smiling pony.
“I don’t know, Carrot. Why would you?” she asked, puzzled.
“Because it rings whenever someone comes in here, Pinkie,” Carrot explained.
“Wow… that’s one magical bell… maybe it was just really quiet? I sure didn’t hear it.” She murmured, glancing at the bell,
“Never mind, Pinkie. So, how’d it go with Twilight?” he asked, changing the topic.
“Well, she deflated my head because it was really big because Twilight wanted to see if she could make one of my cupcakes the size of Ponyzilla, but then-“
“I know the story, Pinkie. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, putting a hoof on the counter.
“Okay? Are you kidding? That was so awesome! I mean, I got to be my cutie mark for half an hour! I wonder if I can still float if I hop off the ground!” she exclaimed, jumping. To her utter sadness, she fell to the floor in a pink heap. “I guess that’s a no…” she said, dejectedly. “Oh! I know! I could just get a whole bunch of helium, and then-“
“Pinkie! That would not work. You could hurt yourself,” he warned, a stern look on his face.
“I’ve hurt myself plenty of times, Carrot! I can take a little gas,” she giggled. “Especially since it makes my voice all high pitched, like a squirrel!” she exclaimed, having produced a squirrel mask and buck teeth.
The twins started laughing again as Pinkie twitched her nose back and forth and scurried around the bakery. Carrot started to laugh as Pinkie inspected a bit on the floor, chomping it like a nut, but stopped when he saw the look on his wife’s face.
“Carrot, I don’t think the twins need any more reason to get excited. We should put them to bed. It’s very late,” she cooed, nuzzling Pumpkin who giggled into her mom’s snout.
“Ok, dear,” he said, watching the exchange with a smile. “I’ll be up in a moment- I need to have a word with Pinkie.”
“Ok. I’ll see you up there.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and took the twins out of their stroller. Carrot watched as she ascended the stairs.
“What do you wanna talk about, Carrot? Because I’m super- duper tired after that whole my-head-became-larger-than-most-of-my-body thing,” she explained, quickly.
“Well, I just wanted to say- me and Cup support you, no matter what you do. Love is deaf, or so they say,” he said, sagely. “I never really got that one, though- what does deafness have to do with love?” he wondered aloud.
“I love everypony! So I guess I’m just really deaf, then! I don’t know what else you’re saying, Carrot, so I’m just gonna gotobedbye!” she finished, bolting up the stairs. Carrot looked at the faint scorch marks on the stairs and floor, sighing. He’d have to fix those up before anypony got there the next morning.
He spent the next twenty minutes fixing up the scratch marks, already wishing Pumpkin was old enough to simply magic them away. But that wouldn’t be for awhile. He looked at the stairs, satisfied with his work. Anything else wouldn’t be seen by customers, so he was clear.
He glanced around, checking the windows and stairs for movement. He sidled into the back room, as stealthily as Fluttershy around most stallions. He trotted silently to the ovens, his head repeating a sweep of the room. He peeked out the door, checking the alley. All clear.
He closed the door to the alley as quietly as he could, appearing inside the back room again. He checked a final time past the door to the rest of the bakery, and finally bent over by the oven. He maneuvered half way under the oven, catching a glimpse of his magazine in the complete darkness.
So close, he thought. He stuck out his tongue- he would really do it this time, he swore to sweet Celestia he would-
“Carrot? Are you coming to bed? And why are there scorch marks in the hallway?” Cup’s voice called from the top of the stairs.
Carrot smacked his head in to the oven for the second time that hour. He stared forlornly at the magazine gathering dust before sliding out from under the machine, lifting his sore head.
“Coming dear! And that was Pinkie, Cup!” he shouted up the stairs.
“Oh. That explains it,” he heard her voice float down the stairs. “Just hurry up! The bed’s cold without my Carrot in it!” she said, whimpering.
Carrot shook his head, moving towards the stairs. What did Pinkie think of that? he wondered. He shrugged once after reaching the top of the stairs. Thoughts of Pinkie could wait. Right now, he had a bed and a lonely wife to get to.
Carrot let the door swing shut behind him as he walked through the back room. He deliberately avoided looking at the oven- maybe, after enough time, he would just forget it was there. He grabbed two trays of muffins, throwing them on his back. He trotted past the machine, staring at the ceiling.
It was his choice of view that prevented him from seeing the blocks of one Pumpkin Cake, ideally placed to destroy any semblance of balance Carrot had.
The two patrons closest to the back door looked up, having heard something that sounded like… no, Carrot wouldn’t swear, would he? Not with all these customers, and the twins right upstairs. They shook their heads, satisfied with their heads’ version of events, and returned to eating their muffins with gusto.
Mr. Cake backed into the swinging doors, two trays of muffins hanging precariously on his back. One was certain to fall had Pinkie Pie not been manning the counter while Carrot retrieved the order.
The world slowed for Pinkie as the muffin tray slowly slid off Carrot’s back, tumbling to the floor. All her senses kicked in at once- her eyesight centered on the rapidly descending baked goods; all she could smell was the revolving tray of delicious goodness about to be wasted. Her hooves could feel, so acutely, the feeling of the shifting floor under her. She tasted, with all her tongue, the metallic underside of a tray of muffins about to clatter to the floor. Her final sense returned, and she could hear the appreciative whistle of Carrot as he watched her performance.
“That was better than last time, Pinkie! I’m glad we’ve got you on staff- the twins have a way of keeping Cup so busy, these days.”
“Oh, you know me, Carrot! I’m always willing to help!” was what she would’ve said, but with her tongue supporting a tray of six warm muffins, all that came out was “Uhh, oo uh ee, aaaoot! I aaa ill ell!”
“Of course, Pinkie. Whatever you just said, I agree wholeheartedly,” he said, cracking a smile. Pinkie just sort of glared at him. This was exactly like that time with the Poison Joke! It was one of her (admittedly few) nightmares.
Carrot stopped that metaphorical train almost immediately. Pinkie may be able to do some things that seemed impossible, but he shouldn’t just stereotype her like that. There was more to just Pinkie than randomness and parties, he knew that for a fact. The last time he had underestimated her, she had ran away for a week, driving the Cakes nearly insane. Of course, it turned out she was just in the basement, eating enough cupcakes to feed a small army, but still.
“Carrot? Are you okay? Because you keep drifting off, and I know daydreaming is super fun and all, but it’s right in the middle of the busiest hour of the day, and we were just talking sorta but I couldn’t because I had that tray of muffins in my mouth-“
“It’s okay, Pinkie! I was just remembering, that’s all,” explained Carrot, removing the second tray from his back and putting it on the table. He turned to call for the ponies that had ordered the muffins, but instead met another customer.
“Umm, excuse me?” piped up an tan stallion with a black mane. “Can I get a cherry cupcake, please?”
“Of course, Cherry. Two bits please.”
The stallion plopped two bits from his saddlebag onto the counter. Pinkie reappeared from the back, a small yellow cupcake with pink frosting and cherry toppings balanced on her snout. She flicked the cupcake off her snout, sending it hurtling through the air at Cherry. Cherry was prepared, however- he was a regular customer at Sugarcube Corner, after all. He quickly shifted his head to the right and up, opening his mouth wide to catch the high-velocity pastry. His jaws snapped shut with perfect timing, catching the cupcake with a flourish. He chewed and swallowed, his smile increasing in size.
“Perfect as always, Mr. Cake, Pinkie. Thank you!”
“Hey Cherry?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you just call me Carrot, from now on? Mr. Cake is too formal, and I feel like I know my clients well enough to have ‘em call me by my real name.”
“Uh, sure, Carrot. See you tomorrow!”
Carrot waved at the departing pony as he glanced around the shop. This was the best time for business- younger ponies were getting home for school and would therefore be hungry, especially for a patented Sugar Cupcake Extreme™, straight from the ovens of the bakery. And, when the clock struck five, the older ponies looking for something to eat before heading home need only ask. And have bits, of course, but the bakery had generous prices due to the high demand.
“Hey Pinkie, do you mind manning the counter while I check on the customers?”
“No problemo, Carrot!” she acknowledged, raising a hoof in salute. “No pony will be hungry so long as I’m here!” she stated proudly. She looked ready to give a rousing speech, but instead she dropped her hoof back on the floor before looking at Carrot. “Weren’t you going to talk to all the ponies, Carrot?”
“Oh! Yes, yes, I’ll be right back,” he spoke, turning from his counter to the tables containing a multitude of colorful residents and what looked like a tent in the middle of his store. He did a double take at the camouflaged shelter in the middle of his shop, wondering how he hadn’t noticed it before. He made a beeline for the tent in the center of the bakery, passing by empty and full tables alike, expeditiously checking them for empty plates or hungry ponies. Spotting neither, he arrived at the tent soon after he had started.
Though the daylight was strong, he could still make out a lamp inside the camo tent, outlining the shadows of three fillies. Carrot had a sneaking suspicion of just who was in this tent, but decided to be polite. After all, he had an image to maintain.
He circled the tent, looking for an entrance. He found nothing, though- no zippers, flaps or windows. His confusion increased when a shadow seemed to extend a hoof outside the tent, grabbing something before coming back to the light.
He rounded on the side where the hoof had popped out. There were no signs of an entrance here, either, but Carrot was determined. He stuck his hoof out, feeling along the tent’s side. The fillies inside took no notice, too busy with some sort of tool inside their mobile base.
Carrot let out a gasp as his hoof went straight through the wall, losing his balance and heading straight for the floor. He stuck his hoof out, preventing his face from pain, but causing a jolt to shoot up his leg.
The three shapes inside the tent squealed in terror before realizing just who had fallen into their hideaway.
“Uh, hi, Mr. Cake! What’s up?” she asked, recovering surprisingly fast. “We were just, you know. Um, camping! Yeah! In the bakery! That makes sense, right girls?” urged Scootaloo, nudging a shaking Sweetie Belle and a stunned Applebloom. Applebloom was the first to respond, shaking her head to clear the surprise.
“Yeah, Mister Cake! We were just tryin’ a get our camping Cutie Marks!” she explained, a bit too loudly. She gave a light kick to Sweetie Belle, who was startled out of her shock of the baker falling into their tent.
“What they said!” she squealed, moving close to the other two crusaders. Mr. Cake gave them an extremely confused look before getting to his hooves.
“What are you really up to?” he questioned, looking Scootaloo in the eye. She seemed to be the least affected by the sudden intrusion into their hideout.
“Nothing. Just camping. Can’t we do that, Mr. Cake?” she asked, looking right back at him. She would not break eye contact, even when Applebloom’s tail swished across her back.
“In the middle of my shop, though? Why not, you know, outside?”
“We’re just trying something new, Mr. Cake. Maybe we’ll even get our Cutie Marks!” she exclaimed, an excited tone sneaking into her voice. “What would a camping Cutie Mark even look like, though? Oh! Maybe a fire, with rocks and marshmallows!”
“I love marshmallows!” Sweetie Belle shouted, butting into Scootaloo’s rant. The other ponies stared at her for a moment. The white unicorn gave a nervous smile before shifting her eyes to the tiled floor.
“Well, what I want to know is how you made it look like there was a wall when there really wasn’t!” he stated, impressed.
“That was me!” piped up Sweetie, raising her head with pride. “I can do that now! My sister Rarity taught me!” she proclaimed, smiling.
“Well, it was some fine magic, Sweetie. So, you’re not going to tell me what you’re really doing?” he asked, nonchalantly.
Applebloom shook her head but stopped after receiving a swift kick to the behind from Scootaloo. Sweetie watched the exchange with interest.
“We already did, Mr. Cake! Camping!” Scootaloo explained, rather loudly. Mr. Cake sighed, shaking his head.
“Fillies,” he concluded.
“I resent that!” shouted Scootaloo.
“Me too!” chimed in Sweetie Belle.
“What’s resent mean?” asked Applebloom.
“Well, it’s a word for disliking somepony-“
“Oh c’mon, Sweetie Belle! We already went over this! You aren’t a dictionary!”
“I can dream, Scootaloo!”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Ugh!” shouted Scootaloo, falling over.
Carrot trotted over to the counter where Pinkie was chatting up a blue unicorn. She seemed to stare at Pinkie’s teeth whenever she opened her mouth, but Pinkie paid no notice to the behavior. As Carrot approached, he was able to catch some of the conversation.
“… around thirty a day, actually! Sometimes it’s higher- a lot higher!”
“Amazing! And your teeth are completely white! How do you do it?”
“Well, I brush six times a day, use mouthwash, floss, floss again, and brush again just in case any mean ‘ole cavities are lurking around!” Pinkie illustrated, her hooves making the motions of brushing, throwing back mouthwash, flossing, flossing again, and brushing a last time. “And that’s just my morning! After a party, whoa boy do we go through a lot of toothpaste!” she finished, her pupils rolling up to the top of her eyes.
The blue pony stared at Pinkie, gaping, before attempting to speak.
“B-but… the constant brushing would destroy… I don’t…” she stuttered, her eyes searching Pinkie for answers. They found none, as was evident by her quiet, defeated sigh. “Well, this has been most informative, Miss Pie. I hope to see you again and maybe try some more of those delicious mint cupcakes!” she added, giving a wave and turning around. She skirted the edge of the tent, which was now the color of an angry zit. The bell rang as she exited into the street.
“Well, she was nice, wasn’t she Mr. Cake?” asked Pinkie, as Carrot had stepped behind the counter and was watching the unicorn leave.
“Well, I suppose, but, didn’t I tell you to call me Carrot?” reminded Carrot, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, you said no pony calls me Miss Pie, but Colgate just did! So now I get to call you Mr. Cake again!” she pointed out, happily. Mr. Cake sighed on the inside. He honestly did not care whether Pinkie did or not- she was one of his workers, after all.
“Well, if you insist, Miss Pie. But I will do the same to you.”
“Huh? No, Mr. Cake, don’t be silly! You can call me Pinkie!”
“Nonsense, Miss Pie. I would be delighted to explicate my reasonings for being quite so excruciatingly brash earlier, but I’m afraid I must depart for now. Ta-ta!” he declared. Pinkie’s jaw made a loud noise as it slapped the floor.
“I’m just messing with you, Pinkie. You know I’m from Trottingham!” he brought up. Pinkie paused, remembering. She gathered up her lower jaw, shaking a bit to get it back in place.
“Oh yeah! You and Mrs. Cake too! Didn’t the twins go there last week?”
“Yes, to see Cup’s parents. They’re very nice ponies. Hey, speaking of the twins, can you believe it’s been six months since they were born? Seems like just yesterday we brought them home…” he reminisced, looking off into the distance. Pinkie’s eyes bulged out at the news.
“I missed their sixth monthiversary party?!? Nooooo! My reputation will be ruined! And I didn’t get to throw them a party!” she bawled, slumping dramatically over the counter. She reminded Carrot of Rarity at that moment in time.
“I don’t think it’s been exactly six months, Pinkie. You still have time! Let me get the certificate,” he encouraged her, retreating into the back room to get to the stairs. He started climbing the stairs, but stopped halfway up. He could hear Pinkie’s very happy and very loud gasp and he swore he saw a balloon fly past the opening of the stairs.
Where she got all those balloons, Carrot would never know. He never saw her buy any- if she did, the owner of that joke shop would’ve retired by now. Maybe she made them? Next time he cleaned the house, he would see if Pinkie had some sort of balloon printing press in her room, or maybe a streamer machine. And a confetti blaster? He wished he knew where that mare kept her party cannon.
He shook his head and refocused, climbing the stairs and slipping into his room. He gently picked up the certificates from their place on the dresser. They had the hard evidence right at the top of the paper- it had been five months and 29 days, exactly. Their six monthiversary would be the very next day.
Carrot wasn’t worried though. Pinkie had had less time to prepare for even bigger parties than this one. And it wouldn’t be very big- only their family and maybe some of Pinkie’s friends. Carrot stopped his happy musings at that thought. Everypony in town was her friend.
Carrot rationalized the party as he descended the stairs. It could drum up more business for the bakery, like one of her parties always did, and it would be a chance to meet and see ponies he hadn’t had a chance to talk with since the twins came along. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was ready to talk to Pinkie about throwing a big party for the twins’ six monthiversary.
Pumpkin Cake’s blocks had different ideas, however.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
“There it is again, Joe! I mean, Mr. Cake wouldn’t-“
“-swear, would he?” the other pony asked, finishing the first pony’s question. They looked at each other before putting a few bits on the table and leaving their seats for the door.
*A/N: It's been too long since I uploaded. Some of the blame, I suppose, could go to the writer who pre-read this chapter for me. It wouldn't be as good without the changes, though, so go say hi to <a href=" http://www.fimfiction.net/user/AbsoluteAnonymous">AbsoluteAnonymous for me. Yeah, that AbsoluteAnonymous. Sorry for the wait.
The party had long ago stopped being for the twins.
They weren’t yet old enough to understand why so many ponies had turned up to eat a cake that was larger than an adult pony, but the twins enjoyed the attention all the same. Yet baby ponies needed sleep - this was made abundantly clear when Mr. Cake found the twins asleep in their half eaten pieces of cake, snoozing quietly. He brought them upstairs to the soundproofed nursery, an absolute must when living in a house made for parties.
When he came back downstairs, Pinkie popped up in front of him without warning, setting off another miniature heart attack in the pitiable pony’s heart. She looked upstairs, at the empty crib, at Carrot Cake, at the partying ponies, at the kitchen, and then back to Carrot. She leaned her head close, conspicuously.
“Are the twins asleep?” she whispered, again leaning her neck to the right to look past Carrot at the dark hallway above them.
“Yes, Pinkie. And the door’s closed,” he reassured, still breathing heavily.
“Perfect! Time to bring out the big guns! Or maybe it’s cannons? I’m not sure; would I just make a general statement and say weapons? I mean, I don’t want to sound like I’m gonna shoot somepony, but I don’t really have any guns, just cannons.”
Carrot blinked twice. The shellshock of another rant still affected him; his response was slow and unsure, his lips struggling to meet his mind’s crazed demands.
“What… are you… what do you mean?” he tried, closing his mouth before it betrayed him.
“Well, you think this is a party? Have you even met me, Mr. Cake? I just didn’t want to freak out the foals!” she explained, her head swaying to the notably subdued music. “Now it’s gonna be a party, Pinkie Pie Style!” she said with a flourish, spinning on a hoof and galloping towards the darkened kitchen.
Carrot wondered exactly what she had planned as he surveyed the room. Everypony seemed to be in high spirits- he could see Rarity having a drink by the punch table while talking to Fluttershy, who looked as bashful as ever; Twilight seemed to be discussing the finer points of something in a book with Applejack, who looked thoroughly uninterested; and then he noticed Rainbow, who was staring intently at a section of the wall with nothing on it except a streamer or two.
He waited for explosions to come from the kitchen, but none came. Given this calm before the storm, he decided to check on Rainbow. She was one of Pinkie’s friends, the one who was always up for pulling some pranks- maybe this was just another prank on ponies who would care to look in her direction?
But as he got closer, excusing himself as he bumped into ponies in better moods thank the dejected cyan pony, he could see Rainbow was not pulling any sort of prank. She wore a blank expression on her face and her eyes seemed hollow, as if she wasn’t focused on anything in particular.
A stallion passed by, brushing his tail against her by accident. She didn’t react to the sensations, which was shocking- tails have a tendency to produce a ticklish, goosebump-like experience, and goosebumps are hard to ignore. But she sat there, listless as he had first seen her.
He finally made his way past the final table, filling the void around the colorful mare.
“Are you okay, Rainbow?” he asked, trying to make eye contact.
She did not return the gesture.
“No.”
It was so short- one word, in fact- yet it seemed so heavy, laden with pain of some degree. She hadn’t looked like this in all the times he had seen her, and he would bet a bit none of her friends had, either. He looked at her hooves, which rested upon an empty envelope. He thought of the implications a letter could bring, and the letters that had made his life feel torn. He put a hoof around her, ready to offer his time for her comfort.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Another pause, longer than the first.
“You can tell me, Rainbow. I won’t bite.”
“I got rejected from the Wonderbolts,” she spurted out, quickly, almost as if she could say it all before she slapped a hoof to her mouth. “…again.”
Mr. Cake was unsure of how to respond. He had seen the Wonderbolts twice in his life. Once, as a colt with his family, watching them with wonder; and the second, with Cup, and he hadn’t been all too focused on the flyers that time. He knew they were big, and joining them would mean fame and fortune for anypony who could meet their standards. They were standards that Rainbow couldn’t seem to meet, however. He was about to proffer a kind word or two to lighten the blow, but Rainbow was starting up again.
“I didn’t want to tell my friends, and I didn’t the first time…” she revealed, shutting her eyes tight against her emotion. “…if they saw me like this- and knew I wasn’t good enough for the Wonderbolts twice!” her voice squeaked at the last word, her eyes threatening to crack open and let the flood start. “…they’d hate me… I’m not good enough for them, or the Wonderbolts, or anypony…” she quietly finished, letting the tiniest of tears slip by.
Mr. Cake was going to lend a hoof to the dejected pony, but was once again interrupted.
“We don’t hate you, Dashie!”
“Pinkie?!” exclaimed Rainbow, turning in surprise. In fact, it was not just Pinkie- Rainbow was surrounded by her closest friends, each with a look of sadness and sympathy. “I- but you were all, over there, and…” she stuttered, coming to a stop as Fluttershy came forth and squeezed the breath out of her in a hug.
“Oh, Rainbow, we’d never leave just because you didn’t get into the Wonderbolts. We’re your best friends, and whether or not those silly Wonderbolts think you’re good enough, you’re more than good enough for us,” she urged, squeezing tighter. “We love you, Rainbow. All of us.” She ceased talking. One by one, the other four ponies joined the hug, surrounding her in a cocoon of friendship and warmth.
Rainbow’s dams, erected in a bitter time, were torn down, and the waterfalls could truly be waterfalls. But the waterfalls led to a smile, and, above, eyes that no longer seemed dull or lifeless. This was where she belonged.
Mr. Cake watched the hug with a warm heart, though he did not join in. This was not a hug meant for him. He might’ve noticed, if he had turned, an abandoned party cannon in the doorway of the kitchen, a half empty drink by the punch bowl, and an opened book on the floor. What he did see, without turning, was the envelope, now free from its captive plight under the cyan hooves. It was addressed to Rainbow, and under it was the letter, previously hidden by his vantage point.
He nudged it from under its paper coat, revealing a letter that seemed hoof written. He avoided looking at most of the text, sensing it was something private, but he had a very sneaking suspicion that Rainbow had not read past the rejection part of the letter. He scanned the words for sorry, rejection, or the like. He found what he was looking for halfway down:
are sorry to say you have not been accepted into the Wonderbolts. We are sorry, but remember you can always try again next year. You may not have been accepted, but you are still a fantastic flyer Miss Dash, and all that talent should not go to waste. You may think of other jobs requiring a fast flyer- perhaps a royal messenger? Additionally, the Wonderbolts are not the only flying group in Equestria- it would be nice, if you joined another team, to finally have some competition! Think about it, and if nothing else sounds appealing, train and wait until next year! Sincerely, Spitfire P.S. I know you can do a Sonic Rainboom, Dash- you saved my life with it. But when you didn’t do it for the judges, that was the only reason you didn’t get in! If nerves are getting to you, I know a pony great for that who lives in Ponyville now; I think it’s Dr. Whooves? Really though, you are awesome, Rainbow, don’t forget that! Hope to see you next year.
Carrot put the pieces together in his head. Dash didn’t do the Rainboom and didn’t get in, but hadn’t seen the reassuring words of Spitfire after the rejection. And just when it seemed Rainbow had gotten into reading, too…
He turned around, seeing the ponies slowly come out from their hug.
“You girls are the best friends a mare could have,” Rainbow cried, wiping her face with a hoof. She looks around self consciously, but the other ponies were still enjoying the party. She sighed happily and sat on her rump. Carrot approached, letter on his head. He dropped it in front of Rainbow.
“I think you should read all of this, Rainbow,” he urged, pushing it to her with a hoof.
“I’m all good- I don’t need Wonderbolts when I’ve got this!” she said, proudly pointing to the mares around her.
“No, Rainbow, I know that. But, I think you stopped reading the letter after Spitfire wrote that you weren’t accepted, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, there are more words after that, Rainbow; words that I guarantee will make the difference. Why don’t you read it?” he offered, again nudging it closer to the sitting pony. She looked at the letter, at Carrot, then at the circle of friends ready to drop everything to help her. She looked unsure, shifting a hoof back and forth.
She was starting to sweat, now- would she choose her friends, or the Wonderbolts? Love, or fame and fortune? A home, or-
“Rainbow, just read the gosh darn thing!” shouted Applejack. Rainbow sighed and started to read the letter, this time past the rejecting point. Her eyes opened more and more as she read, then furrowed, then opened again.
“She doesn’t hate me?” she wondered, looking at the message again.
“Rainbow, that’s dang near the stupidest thing you’ve ever said! Why would Spitfire hate you because you messed up tryin’ ta get in?” she questioned, leaning in and looking Rainbow in the eye.
“Because! Well… um…” she excused, lamely.
“Look, Rainbow. Why don’t we go back to the party? I mean, whatever that letter says can wait until tomorrow, right?” asked Twilight. Rainbow looked at the letter, then nodded and stood up.
“Let’s party!” shouted Rainbow as she flew into the air, full of energy.
“That’s my line!” Pinkie shouted, jumping and pulling Rainbow back to the ground. They landed in a heap, laughing and rolling towards the others like a bowling ball. The others tried to avoid it, but the tumble caught them, and pretty soon all six of them were piled on top of each other, unable to move. They laughed while other partygoers looked on with amusement. The tangled mess of ponies slowly untangled itself except for two: Pinkie and Twilight.
“Pinkie, your hoof’s caught around my back, and I can’t get up,” the purple unicorn said, struggling against the pink pony.
“I know! Isn’t this fun?” she asked, snout to snout with Twilight. The lower pony looked extremely uncomfortable with this, blushing and trying to scoot backwards.
“Pinkie, this isn’t really the time for this-“
“I’ve always got time for my marefriend!” Pinkie chirped happily, cutting Twilight short. Twilight’s eyes opened wide, and her pupils flicked around the room at the ponies closest by. She didn’t see anypony, and sighed in relief- but she couldn’t look behind her at one Fluttershy, who seemed to get the message.
“Oh, I’m so happy for you!” she said, clapping her hooves together, louder than she usually was. Rarity, having been close by to the pegasus, turned an ear.
“What was that, Fluttershy? Who’s happy for whom, here?” she asked, looking at Pinkie, a hoof around Twilight, still on the floor. “Oh!” she squealed in a high pitch voice. “You two! Why, I never thought that you would be the ones to get together, no offense dears, but I must say I thought one of you had a thing for Rai-”
“She meant marefriend like a mare who was her friend! Right, Pinkie?” she asked desperately, poking a hoof into Pinkie’s side. “Right?”
“No, Twilight! We went over this last night! Like this!” she said, closing the gap between their muzzles.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Twilight’s eyes opened wider, which seemed impossible given the relative size of her eyes to the size of her head, but they did. Maybe being around Pinkie made the laws of physics bend a bit? She didn’t know, but all she could think about were the laws of physics while being kissed on the floor of the bakery, surrounded by her friends and random ponies from town.
How much air does Pinkie even have ? she wondered, letting her eyes shut and hoping for the best. She couldn’t hold out for much longer, and began trying to let Pinkie know with her hooves. But that did nothing but make Pinkie giggle against her lips. She had to do something or she would pass out! Maybe she could signal one of her friends to knock Pinkie off, or possibly tap out some Horse code with a free hoof?
But her fears were unfounded- Pinkie let their lips go at the last second, letting Twilight take big gulps of air. She dove for a second round but was instead kissing a purple hoof. She looked at Twilight, confusion written on her face.
“Pinkie!” she whispered urgently. “Get off!”
Pinkie rolled off Twilight, slipping her hoof out from under the mare. Twilight stood up shakily- Pinkie had never kissed her quite like that before. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. She heard a slow clap of hooves from behind her. Rainbow was hovering above the pair, apparently the source of the noise.
“I have never seen anypony kiss for so long! Jeez! Maybe you broke a record!” she said, obviously impressed. Only then did she realize what she had done. “I mean, I’ve kissed longer, of course- twice as long! Yeah, sorry Pinkie, you’re no match for the Dash!” she bragged, switching her tone and extending her hooves.
“I am too!” rebutted Pinkie, grabbing Twilight.
“Pinkie stop!” shouted Twilight, a hoof in front of her face again. Pinkie stopped, confused again.
“I thought you wanted to be my marefriend Twilight,” said Pinkie, dejectedly.
“I do, Pinkie, I just wanted to wait to tell everypony else…” she said, looking around. All of her friends were there, and none of them were telling her to leave Ponyville forever. Princess Celestia wasn’t here, ready to banish her to a dungeon on the moon. Maybe, just maybe, she was being as paranoid as Rainbow. “But it looks like it all worked out, I guess… well, girls, me and Pinkie are together. Huh. How about that,” she said, looking at all of them. She then grabbed Pinkie and swung her into a kiss, deeper than the first. It was Pinkie whose eyes went wide this time.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Mr. Cake cheered for the two ponies with everypony else, and somepony- maybe that one who liked all that classy music- turned on a slow song. Twilight broke the kiss, looking at Pinkie and nodding. They started dancing, neck to neck, eyes closed. Mr. Cake dimmed the lights.
Couples of all shapes and sizes came out to dance. Rarity nudged Fluttershy, who blushed and shook her head, but was soon dragged out by the white unicorn to the dance floor, where Rarity gently taught the yellow mess of nerves how to dance. Rainbow continued hovering, unsure of what to do. She felt something grab hold of her tail, however, and soon she was on the ground.
“We can dance, Rainbow. As a friendly thing. Ah’m sure I’m a better dancer, anyhow- ah could teach ya,” she said, picking up the pegasus with a smirk.
“No way, AJ! I’ll be a better dancer than you ever were, or ever will be!” she challenged, racing to the floor. Applejack chased after her, disappearing behind the crowd now assembled on the dance floor.
Mr. Cake could see Pinkie with Twilight, eyes closed in happiness; he saw Derpy- when did she get here? - dancing with Doc. All seemed well at Sugarcube Corner, right then. But, as it turned, he still had a problem to solve. Big Macintosh rounded a group of three giggling mares who eyed him as he passed, but he stoically ignored them. He made a line for Carrot, making eye contact from halfway across the room.
He reached him as the song made its crescendo. Another track was flipped on, however, and the dancing went on. He looked nervous, now that Carrot could see him better. He finally got within talking distance and began speaking in a measured tone.
“Carrot, I want to dance with a certain pony, but I’m too darn nervous whenever I get close to h- that pony.” he explained. Carrot thought for a moment, putting a hoof to his chin.
“Well… I could help… I’d need you to give me my discount back that I gave you for blackmailing me about reading Ponies.”
“Anythin’, Carrot. This may be mah only chance.”
“And I want free apples for a month-”
“Carrot, that’s-“
“Or I’ll tell everypony you still play with dolls.”
“One- they are action figures, not dolls. And two, who told you this? AJ? Pinkie? I bet it was Pinkie, that loudmouth pink pony always taking mah action figures-“
“That’s enough, Mac. Just give me the apples for a month, and I won’t tell everypony you still play with dolls. And, as an added bonus, I’ll help you get that special somepony.”
Big Mac thought deply for a moment- how would losing the apples given to Sugarcube Corner affect business? He could see numbers flashing inside his head, complex mathematical equations floating by, and he came to a conclusion- he would simply need to sell more apples and have less in storage for the winter.
“Deal, Carrot. Now talk .” he demanded.
“Alright, Big Mac- imagine that pony is just your best friend, and you want to have somepony to dance with so you’re not alone, but nothing romantically important about it.”Sure worked for Applejack , he thought.
“But the pony is mah best friend!”
Carrot stopped. This would be a bit more difficult than he thought it would be. He thought for a moment, while Big Mac shifted his hooves.
“The song’ll be over in a minute, Carrot. There’s nopony at tha’ music stand- no more songs.”
“Don’t worry, Big Mac! I’ve got this. Give me a second… ah ha! I know, Mac! Pretend you’re just teaching your sister how to dance- just grab a hold of the pony, say, ‘it’s time to dance’, and pull them out. If they don’t know how, it’ll be perfect, and if they do, after you’re done you can explain how nervous you were because you liked them! That ought to work, eh Big Mac?”
But the stallion was gone. Carrot looked for the guy- he shouldn’t be that hard to spot, he was practically taller than Celestia- and finally got a track on him. He was by those three mares again. He was stopping… and now he was talking to them! Was Big Mac trying to dance with all three of them? Carrot nearly went up and socked him in the jaw, but he controlled himself- Big Mac was digging his own ditch there.
However, his assumptions were wrong for the third time that night. Big Mac pushed past the mares, which seemed to be pulling at him to stay. He worked his way through the dancing couples and finally stopped in a corner. He couldn’t see the pony of interest, at first- Big Mac wasn’t called Big for nothing, after all.
But then, he saw the pony being pulled by Big Mac to the floor. It was one of the farm hands from the Acres, the name he couldn’t recall. However, when he thought of what Big Mac had almost let slip, he remembered- Caramel was the name. The stallion seemed surprised at being pulled to the floor, but he got the rhythm quickly, dancing side by side with the red pony. When he turned, Carrot gave him a wink, which was returned with a glare.
Now, all was well. No pony was left without a partner or at least friends, and he leaned against the wall, content. Or he would’ve, except somepony poked him in the back. He groaned inwardly, as yet another pony needed his help that night. Couldn’t he just relax?
But it was not just another pony- it was his wife.
She pointed to the dance floor.
He went with her.
“Alright, everypony! We ready?”
[AN] This story is now on hiatus. I really want to finish the three-parter I’m working on now, and to be honest I didn’t really have it all mapped out after the party. Maybe I’ll come back to this story, but in the meantime I’ll be working on How The Mane 6 Got Into Books. I hope you’ll check that out as well, but I’m done shamelessly promoting myself.
