Twelve

Sugarcube Corner was quiet. Odd thing, considering just who lived there. The store was closed for the day. That wasn't so odd, considering who had just arrived there. Normally, the entire house/store/giant diabetes machine was busting with life and energy, making sure any and all costumers were satisfied with cavity-inducing treats, making them long time enemies of Colgate, the local dentist. But right now, that didn't matter at all.

Pinkie had had brought three extra ponies to the house. She had offered them a place to stay, food and hospitality. The fact  Pinkie had offered all this with a smile to aliens was nothing out of the ordinary. She was Pinkie Pie.The mare's existence was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma for physics and logic in general. But right now, that didn't matter at all either.

Of these aliens, two were foals with a disturbing knack of complementing each other's words. The third had perfectly functional pincers instead of hooves. Together, the three of them defied everything the cakes had been taught in school. But that also didn't matter right now.

No. What mattered, right now, was that somehow, even by Pinkie's standards, all the plates of the Sugarcube corner now rested in peace inside various trash bags. No matter how many sweets they produced, they now had no way of serving or transporting them. And that was bad for business.

And Mrs.Cake was a business mare.

And a business mare is always ready to deal with any situation.

"Pinkie Pie. You have your orders. Ten stacks of plates. All white. No painting on them." Mrs.Cake ordered.

"Yes ma'm!" Pinkie accepted before trotting out the door.

"Dear. Take the babies for a walk. Make sure to give them milk." she said to her husband, who walked out with the babies on bags on his side, leaving the mare with the three aliens.

"Cancer, please put your brother and sister in the twins's room. Then come to the kitchen." she said to Cancer, who did as told. Soon, both mares were in the kitchen.

"What now?" Cancer asked.

"Now...we cook." Mrs.Cake answered.

"But I don't I can. I might break stuff."

"I will teach you."

Mrs.Cake had taught her husband how to cook. That was how they met. She had taught Pinkie how to cook. That's how they convinced her to let them adopt her. So when Cancer grabbed a wodden spoon, only to snap it in half, Mrs.Cake didn't see a problem. She saw a challenge.

"Careful dear. Try not snapping your...pincers every time."

Snap. There went another spoon.

"Open them less..."

And a fork.

"Go slower."

And a knife.

"Maybe we should try something else."

And so they went for preparing dough. The short story would be: Cancer made as much effort as she could in putting the eggs, the flour and the water together in the bowl. The long story would involve explaining how Cancer broke thirteen eggs, splashed water everywhere and somehow managed to completely shred three flour bags, leaving the entire kitchen white. Again.

Mrs.Cake considered changing her strategy.

"It's useless...back in Altarf, our society makes things out of sturdier materials, but here..." Cancer moaned as Mrs.Cake finished cleaning the kitchen.

"Its okay dear. I remember Pinkie's firsts attempts at making a cupcake. They were worse. The whole kitchen covered in frosting. Oh, those days..." Mrs.Cake said nostalgically.

"Good for her." Cancer mumbled as she sat on a stool besides the table, burying her head in her hoove-, eh, pincers.

"How about you watch how I do it. Maybe you can learn from it?" Mrs.Cake suggested.

To Cancer's credit, when she was told to focus, nothing could snap her out of it. She intently observed how Mrs.Cake cracked the eggs, poured the water, mixed the flour and prepared cooking dough. After a few minutes, Mrs.Cake dropped the clay like dough in the table in front of Cancer, massaging and softening with her hooves.

"So, Pinkie said you're an alien. Is that true?" Mrs.Cake asked as she worked.

"Yes it is. Though we prefer not being called aliens." Cancer answered politely.

"And Pinkie offered you a place to stay. How nice of her!"

"Oh yes. She was very friendly with-"

CHAK.

Mrs.Cake had cut the dough. With a butcher knife. A really sharp butcher knife.

"Sorry dear. I guess I got a little to emotional. Pinkie Pie, who I love as a daughter, offered a free home to a stranger in need."

Chak. Chak. Chak. Chak. Chak.

"She did so, of her own free will. No pushing, no threats, nomind control..." Mrs.Cake said happilly as she chopped away. Cancer could have called her out on the obvious threat, or on how ridiculous it was to see her chop dough with a butcher knife. But she didn't. Her mind was couldn't register any of those things. It was too busy focusing on how easy it cleaved through the dough. Dough that for strange coincidence, it was the same red as her pincers.

"Pinkie is such an angel." Mrs.Cake said as she finished, putting the knife away.

"Y-yes. An angel..." Cancer stammered, placing her pincers under the table, lest Mrs.Cake chopped a pincer by mistake. Assuming it was a mistake.

"I'm back!"

"Pinkie dear! Just in time. Can you help Cancer with the lobby? I think a few chairs are out of place." Mrs.Cake asked.

"No problemo! Come on Cancer!" Pinkie said as she jumped away, with a pale Cancer in tow.

"And I thought Scorpio was scary."

Luckily, moving the chairs and tables meant pushing them, with no real need to lift them, giving Cancer the chance to be an aid instead of a disaster. Sugarcube corner was known for tidiness and presentation in front of the clients. Having an extra pony was no excuse.

"I've never seen so many broken plates in one spot. Well, maybe at a the gala, but i'll tell you about it later. How was Mrs.Cake? Was she fun? I love her, she's like a mother to me. She always takes care of me." Pinkie said.

"I noticed..." Cancer said, shivering at the memory of the knife.

"Anyways. We are the twins? We should play with them! Do a party for them!" Pinkie said exclaimed.

"I think they are sleeping right now. Those two get tired easily." Cancer said.

"Boo. That sucks. Then we gotta go do a party for another of you guys! How about Scorpio? Or Virgo? Or both!"

"They aren't much for celebration. Leo likes them though."

"Leo? But she was all mopey and downy before!" Pinkie said.

"She has a hard time opening to new face. But she can be quite friendly once you get to know her." Cancer explained. Pinkie shined happiness at the answer.

"The its decided. We are to throw party to Leo! But Twilight said no. How do we do it?"

"Let's bring her here! This place hosts parties too right?" Cancer asked, receiving a nod from Pinkie. "Then lets bring Leo here. She'll be so happy!"

And so, the two mares began planning their secret party, their objective being the complete and utter cheering of the first zodiac.

Meanwhile, far from there, inside the Carousel Boutique, an Aquarius tried to console a distraught Sweetie Belle. Rarity had take Virgo to the dentist after she spit three broken teeth and the unfazed cookie. Success had been...decent.

"Virgo is not going to hate you. It was an accident." Aquarius said.

"But I made the cookie! Now she'll never eat my food!" Sweetie cried. Aqua sighed. Virgo usually managed to eat anything. It had been a while since she saw her younger sister reject something, or being rejected by it apparently. Who knew a mere cookie could be so hard?

"Young one. Have you tried other ways of art?"

"What do you mean?" Sweetie asked between sniffs.

"Cooking as proved unsuccessful, am I correct?" Sweetie Belle nodded. "Then why not pursue other paths? Painting, drawing, singing. There are many ways of producing art." Aqua said. Sweetie's eyes were filled with light, evaporating any sadness that lived there.

"You're right! I should go do that! Excuse me Aqua. I've got some crusading to do!" Sweetie cheered before blasting out the door. Aqua smiled as she saw the diminishing figure of the filly disappear on the distance. That filly would go far with that attitude.

"She's a lot like you Leo..." she thought as she walked to the kitchen, giving a glare to the concrete cookies that innocently laid on the plate, waiting for another sucker to take a bite and follow Virgo's fate.

"Guess this goes to the garbage..." she said as she left to find a trash can. Then it happened.

She saw it.

It.

A purple dress. Nothing fancy. Pretty empty. Probably a half made job.

But Aquarius saw another thing.

She saw a canvas.

And she was an artist.