By Lion
“... Ambd da’z how I burmbed my tumbg.” Pinkie said, her eyes watering in a manner that Applejack recognized as being very similar to Winona’s whenever she was begging for food at the dinner table.
Applejack chuckled despite herself. “Really, Pinkie, you know better than to do that. Why do ya think th’ cookbooks say to let it sit fer an hour after ya take it out of th’ oven?”
“Bud it loogd zho good!” Pinkie pouted as best as she could with her tongue halfway out of her mouth, and immediately appeared to regret it as her lower lip slid up to the burn, bringing forth a quick yelp of pain.
Applejack shook her head. “Seriously Pinkie, you’ve gotta learn some patience. Good things come to those who wait an’ all, right?”
Pinkie gave a frustrated huff and flopped onto her stomach, all four limbs outstretched and flailing against the ground. “Abblejack, id huuuuuurdz!”
“I feel for ya, Pinkie, I really do, but what am I supposed to do?” Applejack snickered. She felt bad laughing at her marefriend’s pain, but Pinkie Pie seemed so immune to consequences 99% of the time, it was pretty funny to see her actually inconvenienced by her actions.
Pinkie suddenly turned bashful, rearing up onto her haunches and tapping her front hooves together. “You coob kith id amb make id bedder?” she asked, blushing a little.
Applejack chuckled, “Sure, why not?” as she approached Pinkie and leaned in.
“Ow! Ow! Nob bedder, nob bedder!”