In Which Twilight Sparkle Attempts to Eat a Sandwich
In Which Twilight Sparkle Attempts to Eat a Sandwich
Seated at a table outside a cafe was a very contented unicorn.
Twilight Sparkle sighed softly, enjoying the mix of warmth and coolness as the sun and breeze played across her coat. Her rest that afternoon was sorely needed, as she and Spike had spent the better part of the day cleaning up the library after her latest ill-fated project. The arcano-chemical experiment she had conducted that morning had taught her only two things of value: firstly, that magically charged carbon compounds react poorly with resonance crystals, and secondly, that the resulting ectoplasmic discharge is a pain in the flank to clean from one’s coat.
Several hours of showering, muck-scraping and re-shelving later, Twilight found she had worked up quite an appetite. And so, with Spike promising to look after the library while she was gone, she had trotted off to a nearby cafe for a well-deserved bite to eat. As Twilight watched the carefree ponies of the town reveling in the sunlight, a faint grumbling was heard, and she pressed a hoof to her belly. They certainly were taking their time with her order.
However, she was quickly distracted from her rumbling tummy as she glanced down the street and spotted a familiar figure approaching, a pair of baskets piled high with red fruit fastened to her back. Twilight waved her hoof vigorously.
“Applejack! Over here!”
The farm pony raised her eyes to meet Twilight’s and a broad grin quickly spread across her face. Tipping her hat, she walked over. “Oh, hey, Twilight! How’s yer day been?”
Twilight giggled. “Well, not too bad now. We had a little incident at the library earlier, but that’s been taken care of. And the day’s looking a lot brighter now that I’m finally about to get some lunch! What about you?”
Applejack tilted her head to one of the apple-laden baskets. “Just makin’ a delivery to Sugarcube Corner. The Cakes’re plannin’ an event to teach all the little foals how to bake, an’ they need a whole mess of apples for it.” Twilight gazed at the ripe fruit, the sunlight reflecting from their lustrous red skin. She licked her lips, recalling the perfect blend of sweetness, tartness and juiciness that only an apple from Sweet Apple Acres could provide.
Another grumble was heard from Twilight’s stomach, eliciting a chuckle from Applejack. “I’d give ya one of these if they weren’t all bought an’ paid for.”
“That’s fine, Applejack,” Twilight replied. “Once the sandwich I ordered gets here, I’m sure it will hit the spot.”
Applejack’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute... did you just say you ordered a sandwich? From here?” Twilight blinked at her friend.
“Yes, what’s so odd about that?”
“But... but this is the Oatfield Cafe!”
“So? What about it?”
Applejack quickly glanced left and right before answering in a low and quavering voice. “Don’t ya know the sandwiches from this restaurant are... cursed?”
Twilight blinked again, before a fit of giggles overcame her. “Applejack, how could sandwiches be cursed?”
Applejack glared at her. “I don’t claim to know how it works, Twilight. All I know is that nopony has been able to eat a sandwich from this restaurant for as long as anypony can remember.”
Twilight stifled another wave of laughter. “But that makes no sense! Why would all the sandwiches from a restaurant be cursed?”
Applejack gulped, leaning in close. “Well, as I heard it, the story is this...”
A thing of beauty may often be found in the oddest places. Diamonds lie in the earth, waiting for the kiss of light to make them glimmer, and even the most uncouth of ponies may have a kind heart hidden beneath their rough exterior.
But when a diamond finds itself thrust back into the rough, can it still shine? Can greatness remain untarnished when all is taken from it?
Saucy Skillet was known in his day as the greatest chef in all of Equestria. He had mastered almost every form and style of cooking, and his cuisine was lauded as the most delicious and exquisite from Canterlot to Las Pegasus. But there was one dish which continually confounded him, one dish whose savory goodness eluded his skill: the common sandwich.
Saucy went from town to town, city to city, searching for the secret to the art of the sandwich, determined not to let such a simple item escape his mastery. He sought out his fellow gourmands and studied under them, traveled to the farthest reaches of Equestria in search of new skills and ingredients, and attempted every combination of such that he could think of. But no matter where he went, who tutored him, or how he experimented, the sandwich’s delicious simplicity refused to bow to him.
Eventually, the master chef found himself in a tiny trainstop town known as Ponyville. Dejected and forlorn, his fortune spent in pursuit of his goal, Saucy despaired of ever achieving his dream. He had been reduced to cooking simple fare in the town's only restaurant, and he cursed the cruelties of fate for leading him there. But even though his heart was heavy, he still threw himself into his craft. Every dish he prepared was a labor of love, and before long, the ponies of Ponyville began to appreciate his obvious talent and skill.
One evening, after a hard day in the kitchens, he was called out to receive the compliments of one of the restaurant’s patrons: a pony named Stinkin’ Rich. Mr. Rich praised Saucy for his culinary skills, offering him a cafe of his own on the spot.
And so the Oatfield Cafe was founded, and has been a staple of Ponyville ever since. But even to this day, in spite of the success of both the cafe and its founder, the restaurant has yet to serve a sandwich to one of its customers, an echo of Saucy Skillet’s past failures.
“An’ that’s how the sandwich curse of Oatfield Cafe got started,” Applejack concluded, lightly stamping her hoof on the final word.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Applejack, that was a very interesting story, but the simple fact is that curses do not exist. Even if there was such a pony as ‘Saucy Skillet’ and he founded this cafe, how hard could it be for him to make a sandwich? And even if he couldn’t, what’s stopping the cooks who work here now from making one?”
Applejack glared. “Twilight, ya can mock it all ya like, but everypony in Ponyville knows not to order sandwiches from this here cafe. Didn’t ya learn nothin’ about believin’ things that day ya found out about Pinkie Pie’s Pinkie Sense?”
“That’s completely different! Pinkie Sense is just, well, Pinkie. But there’s no way a restaurant could be cursed, much less a particular item on its menu!”
Applejack turned from the table with a huff and continued down the street to make her delivery. “You may say so now, Twilight, but just you wait. The curse’ll make ya regret orderin’ a sandwich from this place!” And with a flick of her tail, Applejack was off.
Twilight shook her head with a chuckle. The residents of Ponyville could be so superstitious sometimes... as if every sandwich made in a small-town cafe could be cursed! Another grumble sounded from her stomach. Applejack’s story had only served to intensify her hunger.
But another sound nearby quickly grabbed her attention: a prim, lilting voice she would’ve recognized anywhere. Turning her head, she saw Rarity approaching from the square with Rainbow Dash fluttering by her side. Rarity trotted along, her eyes and smile both bright as she spoke to Dash. Dash blushed and groaned, placing a hoof over her face. As Rainbow Dash looked up, she spotted Twilight and raced over to her table.
“Hey, Twi! You out here enjoying the weather? My team did a great job setting it up, huh?”
Twilight smiled. “You pegasi really outdid yourselves. I haven’t felt weather this pleasant since last spring!” She nodded to Rarity as she trotted up to join them. “So what are you two doing this afternoon?”
“Oh, Rainbow and I are on our way to the spa,” Rarity replied with a wink. Rainbow blushed again, and Twilight’s eyes widened at the thought of the athlete enjoying a spa treatment.
“And don’t think I’ve forgotten our agreement, darling,” Rarity said, grinning. “In return for my spending the afternoon playing your rough-and-tumble sports, you have to get your mane professionally sty-mmf!”
“Darn it, Rarity, you promised you’d keep that between us!” Dash whispered harshly, her hoof planted over Rarity's mouth.
Twilight raised a hoof to her mouth to stifle her laughter. “But Rainbow, I bet your mane would be beautiful if you took care of it! I’d love to see how it would look styled.”
“My thoughts exactly, dear,” Rarity agreed as she pushed Rainbow’s hoof away. “After you get it done, why don’t you show all our friends how it looks? Oh, and I have a lovely little gown at the boutique that would complement your coat perfectly!”
Rainbow Dash groaned yet again. “No way! I’m not parading around town looking like some little filly’s dress-up doll! I had a bad enough time dealing with the fallout from that Foal Free Press article. And besides, I only agreed to getting my mane styled, not to letting anypony see it!”
Rarity turned her head away, her lower lip stuck out. “Hmph. If I had to let the entire town see me rolling around in the grass like a little foal, I see no reason why they shouldn’t see you dressed as a proper lady for once. But my, how rude we’re being, gabbing on about our day. How has yours been, Twilight dear?”
Twilight smiled. “Well, it would be a lot better if my food would get here. For the life of me, I can’t understand how it could take so long just to make a sandwich!”
Rarity and Rainbow gasped. “Did you say a sandwich?” they asked in breathless unison. Twilight sighed.
“Oh, please don’t tell me you believe in that curse Applejack was talking about.”
“But darling, everypony knows the Oatfield Cafe’s sandwiches are cursed! Just look around!” Rarity gestured towards Twilight’s fellow diners. Glancing about, Twilight could see salads, pastries, soups, and plates piled high with hay fries, but not a single sandwich to be found.
“Yeah, nopony has ordered a sandwich from this place in, like, forever!” Rainbow leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “And think about it, Twi... when was the last time you can remember eating a sandwich here?”
Twilight scratched her head. “Well... um... I can’t recall a particular time, but...”
“But nothing! I’m telling ya, not a single sandwich has been served in this place since the curse started!”
“But that’s ridiculous!” Twilight said, perhaps a bit louder than she intended to. Several of the ponies seated around her turned to stare at her, and she gave them a sheepish smile before continuing in a lower voice. “There are no such things as curses! And the fact that I've never eaten a sandwich here doesn't prove anything! Besides, that silly story Applejack told about how the place is cursed because a master chef couldn’t figure out how to make a sandwich is just absurd!”
“Wait a moment, what story did Applejack tell you? Because as I heard it, the story of the curse is this...” Rarity cleared her throat, seating herself with her eyes closed and one hoof raised. Twilight rolled her eyes.
Love is often thought of as fragile, like a glass ornament, beautiful and easily broken. But in practice love is far more like a tree, hardy and strong, growing more weathered as the years pass, but still remaining lovely. And a tree may grow easily in soil that seems barren to others.
When the nation of Equestria was founded, it was the first time in pony history that the three tribes worked together in unity and peace. But the roots of bigotry and mistrust go deep, and Equestria’s early years were still host to a great deal of strife between the tribes.
Many unicorns, pegasi and earth ponies had come to live in the fledgling city of Fillydelphia, and the tension between them was a powder keg waiting for the smallest spark to go off. Yet some ponies were able to rise above the ghosts of their past to find friendship and love... and no two ponies exemplified that ideal better than Heartshine and Dusk Glider.
Heartshine was an earth pony stallion who worked in his father’s restaurant, learning the culinary arts. It was there one day that he met Dusk Glider, a pegasus mare who had come to Fillydelphia to work on their weather team. The two fell in love almost at first sight, and were soon swept away in their romance. But they knew their love must remain secret, for their families disapproved of courtship outside their respective tribes.
So the two lovers created a code to signal one another for their nightly rendezvous. If Dusk Glider was free to meet Heartshine that night, she would come to his father’s restaurant and order a sandwich. If Heartshine was also able to meet, he would prepare her a cucumber sandwich; if not, she would receive a lettuce and tomato sandwich.
But it was only a matter of time before their trysts were found out. When Dusk Glider’s father learned of the earth pony courting his daughter, he was furious. He and Dusk’s brothers set out for the restaurant, intent on killing the hapless stallion. But when they arrived, Dusk Glider was already there. She begged her family to spare Heartshine, for their love was a pure thing that could do no harm to anypony. Her impassioned plea moved their hearts, as well as those of Heartshine’s family. The two were married within the month with their parents’ blessings, and thereafter, their love served as an example to all the ponies of Fillydelphia to end the tribal strife between them.
Heartshine and Dusk Glider’s descendants took up their parent’s professions as chefs and weather ponies. But the chefs in the family had a curious tradition: they would never serve a sandwich to another pony, to remind themselves that the lovers’ secrecy was no longer needed. Some of these same descendants later migrated to Ponyville, where they found themselves working in the Oatfield Cafe.
“And that,” Rarity concluded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, “is how the sandwich curse of Oatfield Cafe came to be.”
Her two-pony audience sat silently for a moment, sharing a blank stare. “Rarity,” Twilight began, “that was a lovely story, but—”
“But it’s completely wrong!” Rainbow Dash threw her hooves up as she spoke. “The story I heard was totally different, and nowhere near as sappy as that one! See, the way it was told to me...”
Twilight simply sighed once more.
One must always be prepared for the unexpected, for there’s no telling when such preparation will save you, or when you’ll regret not having been ready. A single mistake may mean all the difference between failure and success, and when a door closes, it may never reopen.
In the early days of Ponyville, the town was little more than a train station, a general store, a pair of restaurants and a few family farms. But of those two restaurants, the newest, dubbed the Oatfield Cafe, was quickly making a name for itself.
The ponies who passed through Ponyville on their way to more auspicious locations took with them tales of the cafe’s palatable dishes, cuisine of a quality normally found in only the poshest of big city restaurants. As the cafe’s reputation spread, more and more ponies found themselves taking trips to Ponyville to sample the cafe’s fabled meals. And when these ponies returned to their friends and families, they told them that the stories were all true.
It wasn’t long before these same stories reached the ears of Cherry Tart, a Canterlot unicorn known for her success as a critic of food and restaurants. Such was her fame that a mere nod of approval after a meal could send hundreds of ponies flocking to a restaurant to dine there. So when word reached her of this small-town cafe and its surprisingly delicious fare, she packed a bag and hopped on the first train to Ponyville.
Upon arriving and being seated at the Oatfield Cafe, Cherry asked if she could order a small sample of each item on the menu: from soups and salads, fries, pies and muffins, tarts, toasts and vegetable roasts, and finally, a cucumber sandwich to cleanse the palette.
Surveying his storeroom, the head chef saw he had just enough of each ingredient needed to make samples of each dish, but his heart fell when he saw that the ingredients for the sandwich were old and unpalatable. He asked Cherry if she wouldn’t prefer to end her meal with something else, but she insisted that only a cucumber sandwich would do.
Recognizing the boon she could provide their business should he please her (and the havoc she could wreak on it if he failed), the chef obliged her. A sample of each dish was brought before her, and each seemed to meet her standards. But her mood soured when she bit into the final item: the cucumber sandwich.
“How dare you feed me such an atrocious thing?!” she demanded, throwing the offending sandwich at the chef. “The bread is stale and hard as a rock! The cucumber slices are wilted and dry, and the butter tastes as if it’s been left out to spoil!” The chef stammered his apologies, but the damage was done. Her wrath provoked, Cherry began to cast a spell. Few ponies knew of Cherry Tart’s secret... while food was her passion, her special talent was actually magic. The room darkened, the only light the cherry-red glow of the critic’s horn. In a booming voice, she proclaimed:
“NEVER AGAIN SHALL THIS CAFE SERVE ANOTHER SANDWICH!”
“And that’s how the Oatfield Cafe’s sandwiches got cursed!”
Twilight sat blinking at her friends for a moment before speaking. “Firstly, Rainbow, unicorns can’t cast curses. And secondly, Rarity, you said yourself that it was a family tradition, not a curse. And if this restaurant had a tradition of not serving sandwiches, I think the waiter would’ve told me so when I ordered, don’t you?”
Rarity pouted once more. “Scoff if you must, Twilight, but the fact remains: nopony has ordered a sandwich from this cafe in decades.”
“Yeah, Twi. What was it that one book you lent me said? ‘There is more in Heaven and Earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy’!”
Twilight stamped her hoof. “Don’t you quote Flankspeare at me! And anyway, I’m going to prove to you that there is no curse!”
Almost as if on cue, the waiter who had taken Twilight’s order emerged from the cafe and trotted to her table. “Madame, I am so sorry, but I am afraid we have run out of the daffodils for the sandwich you ordered. Would you like to change your order?”
Rarity and Rainbow Dash glanced at their friend sidelong, a pair of smiles forming on their faces. Twilight avoided their eyes. “Oh... oh, that’s quite alright...” Then, shooting her friends a grin of her own, she asked, “Do you know if you have the ingredients for a cucumber sandwich?”
“Yes, madame.”
“Well, I’ll have that then!” The waiter bowed, apologizing once more for the wait, before trotting back to relay her order. “You see? No curse, just a shortage of ingredients.”
Rarity tossed her mane with a soft snort. “We shall see, Twilight. You may think we are simply superstitious dullards, but I can assure you that such stories don’t get spread without a reason. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to order something else? I’ve heard Small Fry is famous for his tomato, celery and turnip soup.”
“Thank you Rarity, but no. I’ll be perfectly happy with my sandwich once it gets here.” Down the square a bell began to toll, announcing the time of three o'clock. Rarity gasped.
“My goodness, is it this late already? Come, Rainbow, we’re late for our appointment at the spa!” Taking Rainbow Dash by the hoof, she practically dragged the protesting pegasus from the table.
“Ugh, do we have to?”
“I insist! An agreement is an agreement, after all!”
“Fine, fine, fine! We’ll see you around, Twilight. Enjoy your sandwich... if you get it!”
Twilight waved at her departing friends, mulling over Rarity’s final statement. It was true that even the most outlandish myths often had a grain of truth, and the stories she had been told about the cafe today all seemed perfectly plausible, at least until the idea of a curse had come up. Perhaps, she thought, she could compile some Ponyvillian folk stories to be published.
Twilight’s hunger was making itself known again as she watched the ponies around her enjoying their meals. The aromas of the dishes, the sight of the plates and bowls piled with delicious treats, and the faint sound of sizzling from the cafe’s kitchen were almost unbearable. But her patience was soon rewarded as the doors of the cafe swung open.
Twilight’s waiter emerged, bearing a plate with a delectable-looking cucumber sandwich resting on top. Her stomach resumed its rumbling at the sight of her meal; finally she would be able to silence it for the afternoon. The waiter set the plate on her table with a bow, then turned to resume his duties. Twilight lifted the sandwich to her lips, anticipating the crisp sweetness of the first bite...
“TWILIGHT, DON’T!”
Twilight jumped in surprise at the shout, her hooves flailing. Her sandwich sailed through the air before landing with a plop in a pitcher of ice water held by a passing waiter. Her heart racing, Twilight turned to see a pink pony standing directly behind her, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Whew... that was a close one!”
“Pinkie Pie! What did you do that for?!”
“You were about to eat a poisoned sandwich! It’s a good thing I stopped you in time.” She glanced at the waiter with the water pitcher, who stood grumbling at Pinkie’s antics. “Shame about your lunch, though. Do you want me to buy you another?
Before Twilight could respond, Pinkie dashed over to the waiter’s side and tossed him a few bits. “One cucumber sandwich for the unicorn there, please!” she said with a smile, before hopping back to Twilight’s table.
Twilight glanced at Pinkie. “How did you know it was a cucumber sandwich? And why did you think mine was poisoned?”
“I smelled it when you were about to take a bite, silly!” Pinkie replied with a giggle and a snort. “And I knew it was poisoned because my Pinkie Sense told me! I was standing across the street, when my hooves got shaky, my stomach got rumbly and my back got itchy... that means somepony is about to eat something they won’t like very much. So I looked around and saw you with the sandwich, and remembered the story about the curse, and—”
“Oh, here we go,” Twilight said, cradling her head in one hoof. “Let me guess. The one where the master chef couldn’t make a sandwich? Or the one where there’s a tradition of not selling sandwiches because of a pair of forbidden lovers? Or is it the one where a unicorn food critic cast a spell on the restaurant?”
“Nope! Mine is the one about the poisoned sandwich and the mayor’s ghost! It goes something like this...”
Ponyville is an idyllic place, tranquil and beautiful. But even the brightest locales can have dark spots in their history, events that others prefer merely to let lie in the past. One such event occurred in Ponyville fifty years after its founding, after it had grown into the cozy burg it is today.
The mayor at the time, a stallion by the name of Slick Business, was widely disliked by the town’s residents. He had done very little in the way of administration or leadership, creating confusion and gridlock in the town’s development. Slick was lazy and corrupt, preferring to spend his days rubbing shoulders with the well-to-do ponies of the town rather than fulfilling his duties. He often accepted money under the table in exchange for the abuse of his official powers, such as cheaper permits, lower taxes and a blind eye turned towards violated regulations.. Some ponies even whispered that his election had been bought, his wealthy friends campaigning for him with the knowledge that his administration would be to their advantage.
Slick had been a popular candidate, and had won the election handily. But after the incompetence displayed during his first year in office, very few of Ponyville’s residents had anything kind to say about Slick. But his most vocal detractor was Soulfood, then proprietor and head chef of the Oatfield Cafe. Soulfood spoke out, loudly and often, against Slick’s performance as mayor. He said, to anypony who would listen, that Slick’s flank was hardly worthy of sitting on a public bench, much less a plush chair in the mayor’s office; and many were the evenings that his voice could be heard down the street from the cafe, ranting about the shortcomings of the mayor’s leadership.
But as well known as Soulfood’s dislike for Slick was, nopony ever expected him to stoop to murder.
It happened on a Saturday afternoon, in which Slick Business was scheduled for a public interview by the Ponyville Express. The venue was to be the Oatfield Cafe, a fact which Soulfood had been heard to gripe about. But the more he thought about it, the more he saw his chance to correct the perceived injustices of the mayor’s administration.
Slick handled the interview with trademark flair, as he artfully dodged questions related to his alleged corruption and the accusations made by his opponents. The little group decided to break for lunch half an hour into the interview, the journalists placing orders for soups and salads, and Slick ordering a single sandwich.
When the food arrived, Slick joked that he knew he couldn’t be doing too poor a job as mayor, since he could eat in the restaurant owned by his most vehement detractor without fear of being poisoned. As the journalists chuckled, Slick took the first bite of his sandwich.
An hour after finishing his lunch and completing the interview, Slick began to complain of an aching stomach. When this worsened into lightheadedness and nausea, he was taken to Ponyville General Hospital. But at that point there was little the doctors could do, and by evening Soulfood’s poison had done its job.
Soulfood was quickly arrested and taken to Canterlot to stand trial before the Princess. He was pronounced guilty and banished from Equestria till the end of his days. A hasty election was held to replace Slick Business, and the office was filled by his chief secretary, Miss Mare. The new mayor took swift action to clean up the corruption of the previous administration, and has won re-election continuously to this day.
But the story does not end there, as it has been said that the spirit of Slick Business lingers, haunting the cafe where he was poisoned. And since that day, anypony who ate a sandwich from the Oatfield Cafe complained of the same symptoms suffered by Slick before his death.
“And that’s the story of how I got my cutie mark!” Pinkie finished with a smile. Twilight spluttered, pressing a hoof to her mouth to stop herself spitting the water she had been drinking. After giving herself a moment to recover, she responded.
“So, if the sandwich I was about to eat was poisoned, and you stopped me from eating it so I wouldn't die, why did you buy me another one?”
“No no no, Twilight,” Pinkie replied, “weren't you listening? The curse only makes it feel like you've been poisoned. Now that you know about it, you can choose to risk it or not on your own! And besides, it would be rude of me to ruin your lunch and not pay for it!”
“I... guess that makes sense?” Twilight said, blinking. “All the same, Pinkie, I highly doubt this curse you ponies keep going on about is going to have any real effect. I think I can eat a simple sandwich without having to worry about being poisoned.”
“Okie dokie lokie! But if you get a stomachache after you eat, come see me at Sugarcube Corner, okay? Sweets are great for a troubled tummy!” Giggling, Pinkie turned and hopped down the street, humming a cheery tune as she went.
Twilight sighed with a smile. Pinkie’s infectious joy had gotten the better of her. It was hard to stay mad at a pink party pony, no matter how odd her behavior could be. But the story she had told had been slightly troubling. When Twilight had decided to live in Ponyville permanently, she had spent several days in the library researching local history, not wishing to be ignorant of the town she now called home.
Thinking back to her studies, she could vaguely recall a few details of Pinkie’s story. There had indeed been a mayor a couple of decades ago named Slick Business, and he had not served his full term... but Twilight thought she would recall something as significant as his murder. She would have to remember to refresh her knowledge of Ponyville’s history when she returned to the library.
Lost in the happiness that only contemplating a research project could bring her, Twilight barely noticed when the doors to the cafe opened and her waiter emerged with a replacement sandwich. She did, however, notice a white blur streaking across her peripheral vision.
The blur resolved itself into the shape of a tiny white bunny, tearing between the cafe’s tables as if his life depended on it. As he passed in front of the waiter, the unfortunate stallion tripped, crashing to the ground along with the sandwich.
Twilight watched, her jaw hanging open. As the waiter stood and dusted himself off, the bunny that had ruined Twilight’s meal yet again zipped into a nearby bank of shrubbery and was lost from sight. Twilight ground her teeth as the waiter apologized profusely and promised to fetch a new sandwich with haste.
As Twilight sat fuming over her poor luck (and by no means attributing it to a curse, not even subconsciously), a yellow pegasus fluttered between the streets as she searched for something. Spotting Twilight, she perked up a little and glided down to her side.
“Um... Twilight? I don’t mean to interrupt your lunch, but did you happen to see Angel Bunny run by?”
“Hello, Fluttershy,” Twilight said with a huff. “No, you’re not interrupting my lunch, and yes, I saw Angel, who did in fact interrupt it.”
“Oh, dear! I’m so terribly sorry!” Tears welled in Fluttershy's eyes. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into him lately!”
Twilight placed a hoof on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll find a way to make him behave. And he didn’t do much, just ran through here and made the waiter drop my sandwich... again...”
As she saw her friend’s eyes widen, another sigh escaped Twilight. “Let me save you some time. You were just about to tell me I’m foolish for ordering a sandwich from the cursed Oatfield Cafe.”
“Um... well...”
“And you probably have a nearly believable but ultimately absurd story to tell me about the curse, don’t you?”
“Well... I...”
Twilight gestured to the seat opposite hers. “Sit down, Fluttershy, and tell me about it.”
“Well... you seem upset, and I don’t want to be a bother...”
Twilight merely smiled. “Well, I have time while they fix my third sandwich of the day. And what better way to pass the time than to listen to a nice story?”
Fluttershy looked away. “But... that’s just it. It’s not a nice story. It’s a s-scary and sad one...”
“Really? What could be so scary in a story about sandwiches?”
“W-well, if you really want to hear it...” Fluttershy glanced left and right before continuing in a whisper, Twilight leaning in to catch her words. “It all started when a chef went crazy...”
Everypony who loves to do something will push themselves to become better at it. Athletes train their bodies, scholars immerse themselves in knowledge, and craftsponies hone their skills, all in the drive to perfect themselves in their calling.
But this drive can be a dangerous thing, for if it is taken too far, it can easily push a pony over the edge into madness.
Of all the restaurants, cafes and diners in Ponyville, none was better known than the Oatfield Cafe, a venerable eatery that had stood proudly since the town’s founding. But it owed its fame only in part to its age. The rest was due to the skill of its head chef, Crispleaf. The earth pony mare was a master of her craft, known throughout town for her delicious dishes.
But Crispleaf did not merely pursue the culinary arts through rote knowledge. She was, at heart, an artist, always exploring, experimenting and perfecting her cooking, combining ingredients in new ways, and often using rare or unusual components to create complex and flavorful cuisine.
Crispleaf dreamed of one day creating the perfect meal, a symphony of flavor, texture and aroma that could bring tears to the eyes of ponies who experienced it. And so she pushed herself further, using more and more unusual ingredients and esoteric methods. But while the final products of her experiments never failed to delight the ponies who ate them, they never felt complete. They lacked some undefinable property, and try though she might, Crispleaf could not find the perfection she sought.
One night, as she walked home after a long day in the kitchen, the master chef came across a sad sight: a dead chicken lay before her front door. Apparently injured by some predator, the poor thing must have escaped, only to die of its wounds here. But as Crispleaf stooped to pick the unfortunate creature up, she got an idea; a wonderful, terrible idea.
The next day, a new item appeared on the menu at the Oatfield Cafe: ‘Chef’s Sandwiches.’ Remembering Crispleaf’s previous successes, the patrons quickly placed their orders, eager to try the new treat. The sandwiches were delicious, as they had expected, but there was something different about them, some combination of flavor and texture they had never encountered before. When asked what her new technique was, Crispleaf merely flashed a mysterious smile and said it was a secret.
As the weeks passed, the Chef’s Sandwiches remained on the menu, but their flavor and satisfaction improved as Crispleaf experimented with whatever new ingredient she had discovered. It wasn't until two months later, when one of the waiters entered the kitchen as she was preparing a new batch of the ‘ingredient’, that the horrible truth was discovered.
Within an hour, Crispleaf was dragged screaming from the cafe, her limbs restrained in a straitjacket. Ponyville's citizens watched as she raved and howled, claiming that she must be allowed to work, that she had finally discovered the perfect ingredient. And from that day forth, nopony ever ordered a sandwich from the Oatfield Cafe again.
Twilight stared at Fluttershy as she finished her story, a hoof raised to her mouth and her eyes wide. “You... you mean to say she was serving sandwiches made with... with...” The unstated word hung between them, almost chilling the air.
“Y-yes... for two whole months ponies had been eating... it... and not even knowing...” Fluttershy hugged herself, a shudder overtaking her.
As Twilight considered the terrible implications, a thought occurred to her. “Fluttershy, do you know how long ago this took place?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied, eyes half closed as she thought. “It was definitely some time before Rainbow Dash and I moved here from Cloudsdale... maybe a few years?”
“Do you know what happened to Crispleaf? If she was in a straitjacket, they must have taken her to a mental institution, right?”
“I suppose so. The closest asylum to Ponyville is Broadhoof Memorial... she may still be there...” Another shudder ran through her.
Twilight filed this fact away in her mind, anticipating her impending research. As she did so, Fluttershy glanced over her shoulder and spotted a little ball of white fluff on a hill behind the cafe.
“Oh my goodness! There’s Angel Bunny!” Fluttershy stood quickly, flashing her companion a smile. “I hate to rush off, Twilight, but I need to grab him before he runs off and causes more trouble... you understand, don’t you?”
“When you get him, make sure you tell him what a naughty bunny he’s been,” Twilight replied, returning the smile. “Stare him down, if you have to.”
“Oh, I do hope it doesn’t come to that... but we’ll see.” Fluttershy flapped off, heading for Angel as fast as her wings could carry her. “Enjoy your lunch!”
As Fluttershy shrank into the distance, Twilight sighed, eyeing the cafe’s doors. Perhaps the third time was a charm? Although the most recent story of the curse had very nearly killed her appetite, Twilight couldn’t deny she was still very hungry. Would her patience be rewarded, or would the curse claim yet another innocent sandwich? And how many bizarre flukes of fate was she willing to subject herself to just to prove herself right?
Her inner questions were interrupted as the cafe doors swung wide. A waiter appeared, bearing a broad porcelain plate, upon which rested a solitary cucumber sandwich. He began walking to her table. Twilight held her breath.
Step by step he approached, his progress unimpeded by any obstacle. He reached the table, setting the plate down with a flourish and a final apology for the hardships she had endured for her meal. He turned and walked back to the cafe.
Twilight stared at the sandwich before her, almost afraid to move. She glanced left, then right, then above. No pink ponies lay in ambush. No pitchers of water waited conveniently for a sandwich to be thrown into them. No contrivance of misfortune could be seen. There was nothing to stop her.
She picked the sandwich up, brought it to her mouth...
...And took a bite.
Almost disappointed, she chewed, suppressing a laugh.
“This sandwich tastes terrible...”
“Spike! Spike? Where are you?”
Spike scampered down the stairs to greet his caretaker. “Hey, Twilight! How was your lunch?”
“Not that great, if I’m honest.” Twilight said, smirking. “But while I was out, I got a wonderful idea for a research project. I need you to fetch me the archives of the Ponyville Express, from 1156 to 1161. Oh, and see if you can find my copies of Canterlot Cuisine, A Comprehensive History of Fillydelphia, and Ponyville: A Small-Town Story.”
Spike responded with a brisk salute before setting about filling her requests. As her assistant busied himself with her orders, Twilight gathered the quills, ink and parchment she would need for the copious notes she would no doubt be taking. With any luck, it would be a long and fruitful evening of study.
One week later, five ponies found themselves heading to the Ponyville library for a mysterious rendezvous.
“Do any a’ y’all know what Twilight wants?” Applejack asked her companions.
“I’m afraid not, dear. She only told me to be there at three o’clock sharp,” Rarity replied, her eyes bright. “Although I do hope it doesn’t take too long, I have some orders I need to be catching up on.”
“Ooh, you think maybe she’s throwing a party for us?” Pinkie Pie chimed in, pausing her perpetual bouncing to walk normally for once. “It must be a surprise party! But I wish she had told me about it. I could’ve helped her plan it! Oh, silly me, it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”
Rainbow Dash frowned as she flew above the others. “You don’t think there’s some kind of trouble, do you?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Oh, I hope not. She didn’t seem worried when she asked me over, but you never know. Sometimes it seems like not a week goes by without some emergency.”
“Well, I guess we won’t find out till she tells us.” Dash said with a shrug.
The five friends soon found themselves at the library’s door. Applejack knocked, and after a moment the door opened to reveal a smiling Twilight Sparkle.
“Hey guys, come on in!”
As Twilight’s friends entered the library, they noticed the disarray it was in. Books were piled across the floor, reams of parchment were scattered haphazardly, and a number of scrolls with Celestia’s golden seal attached could be seen. The ponies recognized these as the signs of a full-fledged Twilight Research Scenario, and were relieved to see her beaming smile. The last time a Research Scenario occurred, it had taken three teams of weather pegasi to clean up the mess. But a happy Twilight could mean only one thing: a project successfully completed.
“Make yourselves comfortable, girls,” Twilight called as she puttered about in the kitchen. “I’ll be with you once this tea is done!”
A few minutes later, the six ponies were enjoying steaming cups of tea as they sat around the library’s ground floor.
“So, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash began, “this is nice and all, but did you call us all here at once just to share tea?”
Twilight grinned. “I’m glad you asked that, Rainbow. Do you all remember last week, when you tried to convince me that the Oatfield Cafe was cursed?” Her friends nodded.
“Well, I did a little digging around based on the stories you all told me, and I’m happy to say I've confirmed that the cafe is not cursed!”
Her friends gasped, but Twilight held a hoof up for silence.
“You see, each of the stories you told me have some basis in truth.” Turning to face Rarity, she continued, her smile growing wider. “As it turns out, there actually were an earth pony stallion and pegasus mare named Heartshine and Dusk Glider, who fell in love in the early days of Fillydelphia. They’re local heroes there, known for their work in breaking down the barriers between the tribes in the city.
“And it’s also true that their descendants eventually settled in Ponyville,” she stated to Applejack, “although it was actually only one descendant: a pony named Saucy Skillet. He wound up here after spending his fortune travelling Equestria to learn new methods of cooking, and founded the Oatfield Cafe.
She looked at Rainbow Dash, who sat wide-eyed and silent as Twilight continued. “This is the part where we encounter the ‘curse’ for the first time. You see, Saucy’s meals were so good, the cafe attracted the attention of Cherry Tart, a famous food critic. After she ate there, she wrote a glowing review of the cafe in the Canterlot Times, where she praised everything but the sandwiches. Thanks to her poor opinion, most of the ponies who ate there never ordered sandwiches, and the cafe sold so few of them that they stopped stocking up on the ingredients.
“In fact, by the time Mayor Slick Business ordered a sandwich from the cafe, the proprietor, Soulfood, had to cobble one together from ingredients over a month old! The sandwich gave Slick food poisoning, and he accused Soulfood of trying to kill him. But Slick was so mistrusted by the citizens, they wouldn’t hear him speak a word against one of the grandchildren of Saucy Skillet!” Pinkie gasped, and Twilight shot her a grin. “He was impeached a few months later when evidence of his corruption came to light, but by that point, the ‘curse’ on the cafe’s sandwiches was pretty firmly entrenched in everypony’s mind.
“And so, nopony at the cafe even tried to make a sandwich until Soulfood’s daughter, Crispleaf.” Twilight noticed Fluttershy cowered slightly at the sound of Crispleaf’s name. “She tried to revive it with her experimental cuisine. Unfortunately, while all her other dishes went over well, her sandwiches weren’t that great, and she ended up leaving town to study under a famous Canterlot chef. She later decided to stay in Canterlot, and left the cafe to her younger brother, Small Fry... who explained to me that the reason the sandwich I finally ate was so bad was because since nopony orders sandwiches anymore, they never keep fresh ingredients on hand!
“And that,” Twilight concluded, resting on her haunches with her head held high, “is how the sandwich curse of Oatfield Cafe began and ended!”
Her audience sat slack-jawed as they took in the details of Twilight’s speech. Applejack was first to break the silence.
“But... but what about Saucy Skillet lookin’ for the art of sandwich makin’?”
“He was a master chef, Applejack. He knew how to make a sandwich! He traveled around Equestria so he could learn more exotic forms of cooking!”
“What about Heartshine and Dusk Glider’s sandwich code?” Rarity asked.
“That actually happened,” Twilight replied with a gentle nod, “but their children never refused to sell sandwiches to anyone. That would’ve hurt their business.”
Rainbow scratched her head. “So, Cherry Tart never cast a spell on the Cafe?”
“Of course not!” Twilight answered, rolling her eyes. “I told you before, unicorns can’t cast curses!”
“And Mayor Slick’s ghost isn’t poisoning ponies?” Pinkie asked with a gasp.
“Slick is still alive! He’s living with his brother in Las Pegasus! And Princess Celestia remembers every pony who she ever had to personally banish, and Soulfood isn’t one of them.”
“B-but, my Pinkie Sense—”
“Only told you I was about to eat something I wouldn’t like. And it was right... the sandwich was terrible.”
Still cowering on the floor, Fluttershy whispered, “So... the story of Crispleaf serving sandwiches made of... of...”
“Never actually happened, thankfully,” Twilight finished with a gentle smile. “Broadhoof has no record of a pony named Crispleaf ever being admitted, and according to Princess Luna herself, there’s a pony by the same name living in Canterlot... she’s Luna’s Royal Chef!”
The five ponies sat for a moment, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Gee, Twilight... I feel more foolish than a filly for tellin’ ya that story now...”
“I quite agree... I was so caught up in the romance of the idea...”
“Heh, yeah, sorry Twi. Guess it just sorta went to my head.”
“Super duper sorry, Twilight! It was a silly story anyway!”
“We shouldn’t have spread such awful rumors...”
Twilight looked at her friends in turn, before pulling them all into a hug. “Oh girls, it’s alright! And besides,” she said as the hug ended, “We’re not through yet!”
Levitating a few scrolls and pots of ink to her side, she unrolled one and dipped a quill. “I had the best idea for a book when I heard your stories. Now, I want you to tell them all to me again, and don’t leave out any details!”
It can be easy to get caught up in the mundanity of life and lose sight of what makes that life worth living. But if you have good friends, the stories they share with you and the ones you make together are splashes of color in an otherwise grey world.
This book of folklore is dedicated to my friends and the stories they’ve colored my life with. Because if life didn’t have good stories, why would we keep reading?
-Twilight Sparkle
Twilight placed her quill on the table and leafed through the pages of her manuscript. Each of the tales her friends had told had been recorded faithfully, and Twilight was sure they would make a good start to an anthology of local folk stories, after she added a bit of literary flair.
Looking up from her papers, Twilight glanced at her friends. The six ponies were seated at the Oatfield Cafe, waiting to place their orders.
“Thanks again for your help, girls,” Twilight said. “It’s not enough for a book on its own, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find some more local legends to write about!”
Applejack chuckled, tilting her hat back on her head. “Why don't we head down to Sweet Apple Acres once we finish eatin’? I know for a fact Granny Smith could stir up a tale or two worth puttin’ in a book!”
“Ooh, and I know lots of ponies with stories to tell! I bet they’d love to help! We could even have a storytelling party!” Pinkie added with a quiet squeal.
A waiter approached the table. “Ladies, are you ready to place your orders?”
The friends glanced at each other and grinned brightly.
“Six sandwiches, please!”
