Chapter 3
Twenty years earlier
Cup Cake had been crying.
It was not the disposable weeping of an unruly filly, but a far more guttural thing. The sobs built up in wracking waves, thickly-caked makeup on the young mare’s face smearing and dribbling down her face as she failed to hold back the tears. And when she thought she could cry no more, as she gasped for breath with raggedy bursts, the tears came again.
She had sunk against one of the kitchen counters in Sugar Cube Corner, constantly rubbing the warm tears from her cheeks, aware of the mess it was making. From her blurred watery vision she could see the sky outside was black, could hear the tick-tocking of the old family clock as it counted down the minutes.
The dance would be starting soon.
That was the one thought, the only thought, that whirled around and around in her head that night. The Ponyville High graduation party. The start of her life as an adult pony where she was supposed to put her silly fillyhood dreams behind her and look forward with bright gleaming eyes to the life that awaited.
The letter she had received earlier that day put paid to any thoughts of that.
She didn’t have a date for the dance. Before, that hadn’t seemed too much of an issue. She had never been a popular pony; the others would laugh at her for being short, squat and dumpy but she had always been assured that it would all work out. Now she knew it never would.
Because of that terrible, crumpled letter that sat on the worktop beside her.
Everypony had found someone to take them to the dance, even that strange pony who was obsessed with fans. Given the odd number of students in the school it was inevitable that there would be somepony without a date, but she had never imagined it would be her at the bottom of the pile. Even then, she had resolved to go and have a good time. Until she read that letter and the enormity of what it said sunk in. How could anypony who ever wanted a normal life ever love her?
Her parents had left the house earlier. They had kissed her and wished her luck, and told her that she looked like such a beautiful little angel in her specially made dress. Now she lay on the floor, her face smudged, her dress crumpled, weeping for the life she knew she’d never have.
She could feel the hot tears pricking treacherously on her cheeks again and sniffled piteously in a vain attempt at holding them back. “I wish…” she half-choked out as she stared at the stars in the night sky through the window. “I wish I didn’t have to be so alone. Oh Celestia, I’d give anything!”
“Anything?”
Cup Cake stopped crying with a start, scrambling to her hooves and looking around in panic as a low, grating voice cut through her self-pity. Her heart fluttered in terror as she realised she wasn’t alone in the house – leaning against the kitchen door was an unfamiliar black pony, his eyes as red as coals as he grinned at her with a crooked smile.
“G-get out!” she squeaked as she backed up against the worktop, her hooves searching for a sharp implement with which to defend herself. Finally she grasped something that felt like a handle and with a cry of “I-I’m armed and not afraid to use it!”, she whipped the object menacingly in front of her, only to discover that it was a half-eaten cucumber.
The stranger just continued to smile, loping awkwardly towards her as if uncertain how legs were supposed to work. His front legs dragged across the ground as he walked, then quickly scampered forwards with a mind of their own. “I was just passing,” he said in a low tone which would have been soothing had it not sounded so rough. “I can’t stand the sound of a young pretty filly crying. And the lock on your front door was broken so I thought I’d investigate.” He threw down a torn and twisted lump of metal, which may have once been a door lock but was now so broken and scratched it looked as if a hundred angry chickens had clawed at it.
Cup Cake screwed her eyes shut momentarily to stop another onset of tears. “I’m not pretty!” she croaked out in defiance. “I’m a horrible ugly fat pony who’ll never be loved! Ever! I’ll never find my special somepony.”
“I see.” There was an odd kindness in the stranger’s voice, though his face remained an inscrutable mask. He slowly shambled towards Cup Cake, though it was such a slow and odd walk that Cup Cake momentarily forgot to feel threatened. “So you would give anything to be loved, Cup Cake? What would you give, I wonder?” He was very close now, so close she could hear his rasping breath, which seemed to come from deep within his body.
“I… I don’t… How do you know my name?” Her eyes flashed into roundels as she suddenly realised how vulnerable she was. “If you touch me I’ll – “
“No. No no no.” There was another attempt of a smile on the stranger’s face, though it was more of a rictus-grin than anything with life and warmth behind it. “You wished for help did you not Cup Cake? Well, here I am. I…” At this point he paused for a moment to crick his neck, his head lolling a bit too much for comfort, his coat bunching and rippling like stretched fabric rather than skin. “I like to help ponies, Cup Cake. Of course there’s always a cost, but I promise you’ll be delighted at the results.”
“Cost?” All thoughts of crying had now left Cup Cake’s mind, as she felt her tears drying on her cheeks. “How much?”
The stranger waved a hoof. It didn’t bend in the right place, and flopped about a bit too much like an oversized glove. “We can deal with that later, Cup Cake. Now, your problem as I see it…” He started to hobble around the kitchen, peering with interest at the pots and pans stacked haphazardly on the worktops. “You’re alone, Cup Cake. You’re growing up and you’ve realised you’ve been left behind by the world. Nopony understands you. Nopony can understand you. There will never be any pony out there who could possibly love you. Am I right?”
Cup Cake gulped hard. “M-maybe,” she whimpered. It all sounded so pathetic and self-centred when she heard it out loud, but there was something the stranger hadn’t mentioned. Something he couldn’t know.
“If it does not exist, then you must build it!” The stranger stopped his investigation of the kitchen and twisted around to look Cup Cake directly in the eyes. “A perfect pony, just for you. He’ll love you forever, he’ll care for you, he’ll always be by your side. He’ll never disappoint you or hurt you. You can have the life you’ve always dreamed of. It doesn’t have to be like this!”
“That’s ridiculous,” Cup Cake whispered with a sniffle. “You can’t make a pony, not even with magic! I’m not a little filly anymore; I know how these things work!”
“Not with pony magic!” The stranger’s eyes sparkled like a flickering flame, and he reached a hoof behind his back to pull out a battered book. Cupcake blinked – there didn’t seem to be any pockets, it was almost as if the pony had pulled the book from beneath his very coat. “But there is magic older than pony magic. From beyond Equestria, from the wild shadow lands that lay under the world. You don’t have to be alone anymore Cup Cake, you can make yourself a perfect life.” He opened the book, placing it invitingly on the kitchen table. “What do you say? Shall we bake a Cake?”
Cup Cake looked at the strange pony and thought about his strange offer. She had never heard anything so absurd before, but in the pits of her despair there was something alluring about the offer. And even if it was nonsense, she had nothing to lose.
“Yes,” she said simply.
The kitchen that night was aglow with life and energy, and for the first time in months Cup Cake broke into a smile. Her mysterious visitor (or ‘Krastos’ as he had later identified himself) had transformed the room into a whirring hive of activity within moments. The oven tops were covered in pots that were boiling over with sweet candy and every inch of worktop was coated in a fine mist of flour as the two mixed cake batter and rolled marzipan.
Cup Cake had never been interested in cooking; it had always been something boring that her parents seemed to obsess over. But watching Krastos dart from cupboard to cupboard, enthusiastically pulling out various ingredients with a song and dance, explaining in great detail the differences between the types of sugar, the techniques of sifting flour, and how to get the exact amount of air into the batter… it all suddenly made so much sense. At first he’d been content to have Cup Cake assist, leafing through the pages of the recipe book and calling out quantities and techniques. Later though as the cooking became more intense and the air became clogged with flour, he made her take the lead. It was, he said, vital for the magic to work that the cake be made with love.
Finally the ovens had disgorged their delicious cargo, and the two piled layer upon layer of cake on the table, until every inch of it was lost underneath a heap of sponge.
“And now,” Krastos had said with a smile, wiping an icing-covered hoof over his forehead. “You make your perfect stallion!”
Cup Cake wasn’t an artist. In her mind she had the picture of the most hunky stallion imaginable, but like her failures in sculpting class, it didn’t seem to want to materialise in solid form. The cylinders of cake she cut for the legs were too thin, and as she built them up with icing, she realised she had made them too long. The body was not firm and muscular, but a stubby tube. And instead of a rugged, handsome face the best she could manage was a crude rectangle balanced atop a long, thin neck.
It looked ridiculous.
Her bottom lip quivered again as she looked over the unsophisticated cake-statue that stood in front of her. Krastos seemed to beam with excitement though, looking over it, carefully dusting icing over any cracks. “It’s good!” he exclaimed, his red eyes shining bright. “I see a lot of skill here Cup Cake, you should be proud! You’re going to be so happy together, I know it.” Together they put the finishing touches on the cake; covering it with a sweet butterscotch coating, threading in a candy tail, even going as far as to rolling individual strands of marzipan for the mane.
Cup Cake took a step back and looked carefully at the pony they had made together which now stood in the middle of the kitchen like some macabre cake statue. It didn’t look much like a normal pony, but the strange, goofy creation had an almost endearing quality to it.
“Is that it?” She looked at Krastos expectantly as he brushed a string of marzipan off his hooves. “Now do you make it real?”
“No.” Krastos trotted across to the table, slowly rolling out a parchment which, like the book, had seemingly come from nowhere. “Now with the prize in view, now we discuss payment Cup Cake.”
Cup Cake looked closer at the gawky cake pony they had made. It didn’t seem possible that it could be brought to life in any way but there was something about it, something she couldn’t put her hoof on, that made her want to hug it and never let it go. “Payment?” her face fell as she moved over to the scroll. “I don’t have much money but maybe… a loan?” She looked at him brightly, her chubby face breaking into a hopeful grin.
Krastos seemed to find this amusing as he let out a low laugh. “I have no interest in money, little pony,” he smiled in that lopsided manner of his. “I seek more… interesting acquisitions. You must realise this Cup Cake, the magic that I will use to bring him to life is old magic, and it comes with old rules.” He looked across at Cup Cake, pointing out various sentences on the scroll. “For all intents and purposes he will have the outward appearance of a real pony. He will think he is real, he will act as if he is real, and he can do everything – “ he gave a wink at this point “–that a real pony can do. But he must never realise he is a cake. The magic will take twenty years to properly cool. The binding ingredient is self-belief; if he should ever realise that he isn’t real he will instantly crumble back into lifeless cake forever.”
Cup Cake nodded mutely, frowning at the scroll. “So I have to make sure he doesn’t realise he’s a cake for twenty years. Is… is that it?”
Krastos shook his head, and his friendly smile sneered slightly. “Oh no that is where I come in. This is the deal, Cup Cake. You can have your perfect stallion. You can have your perfect life. You can even have your perfect family. But if within those twenty years, if he ever discovers he isn’t real and turns back into cake…” somehow within the bright room his expression fell into shadows “…I get your children.”
The kitchen fell into silence as Cup Cake processed the bizarre bargain. “And… that’s it?” she finally replied, a note of trepidation creeping into her voice.
“That’s it.” Krastos swept a hoof over the contract. “It’s convoluted yes, but old magic has old rules which must be abided by. It’s a pain, but if you want a pony, that’s what you need to do, otherwise certain parties might get involved.” He cleared his gravelly throat as if about to launch into a long speech. “Now, you may be wondering why I wa-“
“Yes!” To the surprise of her visitor, Cup Cake pushed herself in front of the contract, and slammed her hoof down at the bottom, leaving a hoof-shaped smear of icing above her name which had been carefully prepared in advance.
Krastos seemed taken aback as he started to stammer slightly, but soon regained his composure. “I had a whole speech planned out! It was going to be very convincing!”
“It was, it was! You get my children, if he turns back into a cake; it’s a tough business but then so’s life!” Cup Cake chirped this almost too lightly, and scooted expectantly over to the cake pony, her tail flapping from side to side in anticipation. “Now, are you going to make him alive?”
“I see…” Krastos rolled up the contract and tucked it back inside his coat somehow as he moved to the cake. He leaned upwards to the head but paused, turning back to Cup Cake who felt as if his blazing eyes were staring deep into her soul. “Do not try to trick me Cup Cake, I’ll find out. That would be very unwise. Very unwise indeed.” With that he reached his mouth to the ear of the cake pony and whispered something that Cup Cake strained to hear. Then he stepped back with a flourish.
“It is done! It will be a few moments before the magic takes effect, so before he wakes, I will bid you farewell!” He turned to leave, sloping towards the doorframe, but before he passed out of view, he gave one final dark smile. “And I’ll be back. I will be back, Cup Cake, no matter what you think. You’ll have your family, you’ll fail, and then everything you hold dear will be mine.”
Cup Cake ignored all hint of menace in the pony’s voice. Instead she was fixated on the cake pony, which seemed to shift and blur with every passing second. The icing shimmered, becoming a fine fur coat. The crude, oblong head softened as the candy features became real. The candy tail slowly began to sway from side to side. Then he blinked.
In front of Cup Cake stood a tall, lanky pony with wide googly eyes who looked about in confusion. “Oh!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Hello, I’m Mr Cake. You’re the most beautiful pony I’ve ever seen. Will you go to the dance with me?”
Cup Cake’s astonishment at the magic actually working was replaced with a smile of absolute joy. She leapt upon her creation, wrapping her forehooves around his thin, scraggly neck. “Yes!” she sobbed, her tears this time ones of happiness as she buried her face in his sweet-smelling mane. “Yes yes yes!” Everything would be better now. She had a stallion who would love her unconditionally, and without any strings attached. Her heart burst with a strange sort of pride as she thought about how she had turned tragedy into her advantage. How Krastos’ contract was meaningless.
For on the worktop, still in that crumpled envelope was that awful letter from the Ponyville hospital, telling her that she would never be able to bear foals.
And that was how Mrs Cake thought she had tricked the devil.
***
“I’m so sorry Mrs Cake, I didn’t realise.” Pinkie sniffled as Mrs Cake finished her story, the room descending into a strange quiet. “Why’s he come back then? Do you think he’s gone now?”
“Let me in little ponies. Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll…”
Pinkie Pie and Mrs Cake screamed together, clutching each other as the heavily barred kitchen door splintered, the head of a huge iron axe crashing through the fragments of wood. With a rough tug the axe head withdrew, only to be replaced by a burning red eye that peered into the house. “I can see you Cup Cake!” came the creature’s rasping voice as a scaly claw snaked through the hole and reached towards the lock.
“Go away! Go away!” Mrs Cake snatched up a rolling pin and raced towards the door, battering the hand again and again. It withdrew with a hiss of pain. “There’s nothing for you here Krastos, leave me alone!”
She leapt back with a screech as the axe impacted again on the door, causing the mighty wooden entrance to buckle hard. With a furious scrabbling of limbs, Krastos reached inside and pulled back the bolts, letting the broken door swing open.
“No-one is coming to save you,” he croaked as his blazing eyes swept across the two terrified mares, who once again clung to each other for comfort. He was in some ways like a tree – a tall black cylinder that tapered towards the top. But instead of leaves his entire body seemed to be made up of long strands of thick fur, which swayed as he moved on imperceptible feet. One scraggly claw held a wicked axe, which glinted in the moonlight as he stalked into the house. “My magic has erected a barrier around your happy little home,” he rasped. “Any pony who passes will see your home as it was, perfectly quiet, perfectly untouched.” He raised his axe menacingly. “And of course, they will not hear any screams.”
“But the Princesses wi-" Pinkie stammered, but the creature shushed her, reaching into his deep matted hair to unfurl a scroll, stained with age-old icing, a familiar hoof print stamped at the bottom.
“They will not interfere.” Krastos croaked, shuffling forwards, holding the scroll out to demonstrate his point. “In the past Celestia has stopped me from stealing ponies. But a contract. A contract drawn up with old magic and signed willingly; even she cannot stop that.”
“But what do you want?” Mrs Cake was hugging Pinkie again, her earlier bravado in beating off the attacker long fled. Pinkie could feel the older mare shaking as the odious creature scuttled nearer, her heart racing in her chest as those red soulless eyes blazed down with a look of utter malevolence. “I never had any children. I can’t, I tricked you! Have…” her voice turned to a pale whisper. “Have you come for me?”
“No, Cup Cake.” There was a smug tinge in Krastos’ reply as the creature stopped in front of the pair, his axe shifting in his clawed grasp. Pinkie could almost see a flicker of amusement in those terrible eyes. “I am an old creature, and a patient one. I have watched you from the shadows, watched your happy perfect life.” He started to spit out the words. “I have seen you laugh and play and sing, and now I have returned to take it all from you and revel in your misery. Your life was a fragile illusion, one of make believe. You pretended you had a husband, and in a different way, you pretended you had a daughter.”
A claw reached out from that black mound of scraggly fur to stroke Pinkie Pie’s cheek. She recoiled in disgust.
“No Cup Cake. I am not here for you. I am here for Pinkie Pie.”
***
Pinkie pressed her ear against the kitchen door, straining to hear what was being said. Mrs Cake had convinced Krastos to discuss terms with her in the front room on the pretence that she didn’t want Pinkie to see her beg. The vile creature had seemed amused at this, and agreed; and so for the next ten minutes Pinkie had been listening through the door to Mrs Cake plead for mercy, offer up Sugar Cube Corner, anything to make the monster happy. But he just laughed. Pinkie knew the real reason Mrs Cake had wanted Krastos alone.
She was supposed to run away.
The broken outer door looked inviting as it hung open on its hinges, the clean night air of Ponyville lying beyond. It was so tempting to race outside and hide or get help. Had Krastos been telling the truth, was there really nothing the Princess could do to stop him? She had squinted hard out of the door, and true to Krastos’ word there was a faint shimmer around Sugar Cube Corner, as if a semi-transparent wall had been erected. Would she be able to pass through it, or would Krastos instantly realise she had gone? And what would he do to Mrs Cake if he found she’d escaped?
Mrs Cake’s beseeching wails from the other room got louder, and Pinkie felt her heart sink. She sloped over to the remains of Mr Cake, looking down at them sadly and gripping the fallen head in both hooves, placed it back on the neck. It seemed like the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry Mr Cake.” Pinkie stood before the strange looking cake, hugging herself as she looked at the pile of sponge and icing which had once been so alive. “You’re one of the most wonderful ponies that I know, you’re kind and thoughtful and generous and…” she stumbled over her words as she confessed before the inanimate object “…and you’re like a second father to me. This is all my fault, I never realised that it didn’t matter if you were a cake. You were still Mr Cake, and if you thought you were real then you were real, and that’s all that matters.”
She leaned forwards, and gently kissed the cake on its spongy muzzle. “Goodbye Mr Cake. This is all Pinkie’s fault, so Pinkie will put it right!”
***
“A tempting offer but no, I think I will stick with the original bargain.” Krastos rasped as he stood in the middle of Mrs Cake’s sitting room, the tall black furry monster gripping an axe a macabre contrast with the pleasant soft furnishings that littered the room.
“But… but… what about…” Mrs Cake gulped hard as she wracked her mind for more things to offer the creature, more ways to distract him while Pinkie could escape. “What about me? I signed the contract not Pinkie, it’s me you want!”
Krastos plucked the contract from his furry body and unfurled it, scanning his flaming eyes over the lines. “It doesn’t work like that Cup Cake. She accepted the invitation into your life, she becomes my property. And now…” His clawed digits gripped the axe shaft tighter. “I grow tired of this.”
“Yes, when are we going?” Both Krastos and Mrs Cake turned to see Pinkie marching into the room, clutching a small hastily packed suitcase in her mouth which she carefully placed on the floor before standing beside Mrs Cake.
“Oh Pinkie, no!” Mrs Cake’s face crumpled as Pinkie entered and she seemed to sag slightly, as if a great weight had been placed on her back. “I can’t lose you too Pinkie, not because of my foolish actions.”
Pinkie shook her head firmly. “No Mrs Cake, you took me into your family and loved and cared for me like I was your own, it’s time I paid for the privilege.” She stamped a hoof down and looked up at the bristling mass of Krastos that loomed over her. “Why do you want me anyway?”
“Why Pinkie Pie…” There was a gleam deep in Krastos’ eyes. “I want to make glue with you of course!”
Pinkie’s demeanour suddenly dropped and she clopped her forehooves to her mouth in a shriek. “You want to boil me up into glue?” she squealed in horror.
Krastos was momentarily taken aback by this. “What, no!” his gravelly voice choked out. “No, that’d be horrible. Why would you think that? I want you to make glue with me Pinkie, become my assistant.” He shambled over towards a window, glancing out at the night sky beyond. “I live in a twisted shadow land, Pinkie Pie, in an upside-down dark castle on the underside of the world. In that dank miserable hellhole I skulk with only my glue vats to keep me company. My days are spent foraging in the Nightmare Forest for the right plants to boil into glue. My nights are spent awake, tormented by the terrible screams and cries of the unnatural beasts which lurk outside. There is no light, no laughter, no friendship. I have lived for hundreds of years Pinkie Pie, hundreds of lonely, wretched years.”
He swung around suddenly, shattering a framed portrait of the Cakes. Mrs Cake jumped with a shriek. “Once, years ago, I left my dark castle and journeyed across Equestria on my glue cart. I saw the perfect little lives of you perfect happy little ponies and my heart grew more and more bitter that you had so easily what I did not. So I vowed to ruin it.” A strange scratchy laugh grew in his throat. “I made small deals at first. Perhaps a comb given to a pony whose mane I then took. A never-ending match which burnt down everything it touched. A goose that lay golden eggs which soon produced so much gold it became worthless. I became bolder and bolder; my gifts made those silly ponies so happy and then I took everything from them and revelled in their anguish. They all thought they could trick me Cup Cake, and they were all wrong.”
Krastos turned his attention back to Pinkie Pie, slowly shuffling to the pink pony who was rooted to the spot. “The happiness I gained from making ponies miserable did not last. I still had to return to my dank castle to tend to my glue vats. And then I thought, what if I had a pony to help in my task? To chain up and stir the stinking glue as it bubbled away. To venture into the slimy forest and gather the ingredients. To have another brought down low to my level, that would make my life so much happier. The Princess stopped me from stealing ponies, so I devised a new deal, and I waited. I have waited so very long.”
Pinkie’s eyes twitched at this. “You put an advert in the paper!” she snapped suddenly in a tone that sounded just a bit inappropriately loud. “That’s what you do! You put out an advert for an assistant, you don’t need to go kidnapping or tricking anypony with weird convoluted plans! Just ask nicely!”
A low gurgling erupted from within Krastos, and Pinkie Pie couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be laughter or anger. “No sane pony would want to work in my glue factory. Trust me, it is a filthy foul place.” He started to slope towards Pinkie Pie, extending a clawed hand. “I do not know whether you would bring your happiness there, or it would break you. Either way, you are now mine forever.” The claw reached out to grab Pinkie by the scruff of her neck. She scrunched her eyes closed.
“Get the hay away from my family!”
Pinkie Pie’s eyes blinked open in surprise. Beside her Mrs Cake had given a loud gasp. Even Krastos turned in astonishment, his flaming eyes blazing with an almost confused look. “That’s impossible!” he rasped. “It’s against all known laws of magic! You’re not real anymore! You’re just a cake!”
Standing in the open doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight that streamed in through the kitchen window was a strange, lumpy pile of sponge in the shape of a pony, slowly shuffling forwards, chocolate button eyes seemingly fixed in a frown. “That’s Mr Cake to you!” He launched forwards, swinging a large oven tray in his spongy hoof at Krastos’ head.
Despite his menacing size, the dark creature was caught by surprise as the tray impacted with a clang on the deep fur that covered his head as it hit something solid within his hairy mass. Krastos screeched in a high pitched scratchy wail, staggering backwards and dropping his axe. Mr Cake took the advantage, leaping atop him and bringing down the tray again and again.
Pinkie picked her jaw off the floor as she watched the bizarre battle, and then coming to a decision, turned to a similarly shocked Mrs Cake. “Quick!” she shouted. “Get him!” Grasping her suitcase in her mouth, Pinkie dashed forwards to swing it at the furry monster who squawked in panic almost like a bird, throwing his thin sticklike arms in front of him in an attempt to protect himself.
Mrs Cake raced around the room, throwing everything she could find at the creature. Crockery, vases, even the picture frame that he had earlier shattered.
Krastos continued to stagger about in panic, but every time he tried to push off Mr Cake, he was attacked by another whack of Pinkie’s suitcase. “No!” he rasped in a frantic tone. “No, I am Krastos the Gluemaker, you should fear m–”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Mrs Cake hauled up a heavy wooden table and hurled it at his head. He collapsed with a final cry onto the floor, looking for all the world as if a large rug with two stick-like arms had been thrown into the room. For that moment, everything was still.
The three ponies stared at the fallen Krastos for a moment half in shock, and then with a cry of joy Mrs Cake dove into Mr Cake’s spongy arms, the biggest smile that Pinkie had ever seen on her face. “I… I thought you were gone forever!” She swiped a hoof over her cheeks to hold back the tears which seemed to be starting to flow freely. “None of it was real, it was all a lie! I made you! I made you love me with magic!” She sniffled, pulling back and looking at the crude icing-covered oblong of cake that was Mr Cake’s face. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Cup Cake.” Mr Cake pulled away from his wife, taking her hooves in his, looking into her eyes with his chocolaty gaze. “I love you, I’ve always loved you since the moment I saw you. No amount of magic could ever fake that.” He glanced down towards the unconscious Krastos. “There are some things even he doesn’t understand, Cup Cake. I might be a cake, just a collection of sugar and margarine and flour, but it doesn’t matter. I’m real where it counts. Inside.”
“Oh Carrot Cake!” Mrs Cake leant forwards and the two embraced in a kiss. Mr Cake’s features seemed to shimmer and melt, his coat rippling as it turned from cake and icing into fur, his mane flowing back into hair, and his eyes swimming from chocolate into bright pupils, full of life.
Pinkie Pie half smiled with glee, half looked away in embarrassment as the Cakes kissed. It was then she noticed the body of Krastos starting to twitch, one thin limb slowly lifting itself off the floor. “He’s awake!” she squeaked, leaping into the air with a start. “What do we do?”
Mr Cake broke the kiss with a look of anger on his face. “A sack! Get a sack Pinkie, a strong one!”
Pinkie understood. She raced into the kitchen towards the pantry, where empty sacks of flour were stored and grabbed the strongest she could see. Together, the Cakes lifted that horrible creature and bundled him into the sack as he started to awaken with low croaks. His entire body seemed to be fur, there was barely anything to hold onto as they stuffed the fur into the sack, but eventually it was full, bulging with black hair, two red eyes staring out of the top as the sack quivered and swelled as Krastos struggled.
Mrs Cake pulled the drawstrings of the sack tight, and Krastos wailed again, the red eyes that peeked out of the small hole at the top quivering slightly. “Mercy!” he quavered. “Show me mercy, I beg of you!”
With a sharp kick of her hoof, Mrs Cake pulled the string even tighter. “You horrible monster! You horrible evil selfish monster!” she cried out, shaking slightly as Mr Cake put a comforting hoof around her. “I can’t believe I was scared of you for so long! You wicked, wicked thing!”
“What do we do with him?” Pinkie whispered as she watched the shaking sack. It seemed like it might burst at the seams at any moment.
“Let me go!” Krastos’ croaky voice echoed out from inside the sack. “I’ve learnt my lesson, honest!”
“I don’t think so.” Mr Cake started to haul the sack toward the kitchen, eliciting squeals of protest from within. “He’s an evil monster Pinkie, and you know what happens to evil monsters in the fairy tales.”
As Mrs Cake and Pinkie followed the procession into the kitchen, Mr Cake grabbed a rolling pin in his mouth and battered the sack, causing Krastos to whimper piteously, the punches and kicks from within the sack quieting down. Then he placed the entrance of the sack against an open oven door, tipped the contents in and slammed the door.
“There!” His voice heightened slightly with a tinge of anger. “You dare to threaten my family Krastos? You wanted to cause misery and hurt? How does it feel Krastos?” He leaned closer to the closed oven door. “How does it feel when the horseshoe is on the other hoof? Should I bake you like a cake?”
A weak scrabbling came from within the oven as claws scratched at the heavy duty door, and a strange rasping noise started to rise at intervals. To Pinkie’s ears, it was almost like crying. “Let me out, let me out!” he choked, voice muffled by the oven door.
“No, you are a truly evil monster!” Mrs Cake rapped a hoof against the door, causing a shriek from inside. “You have brought only pain and wickedness into this world!”
“Uh, Mr Cake, Mrs Cake?” Pinkie looked between the two with a sad expression on her face. “I know he’s hurt you both, but… may I?” She gently pushed them out of the way, and opened up the oven door a crack. Mrs Cake let out a gasp and went for a rolling pin, but Krastos did not burst out. Instead a clawed hand curled around the small opening, and two red eyes peered out. There was none of the malevolent fire in them from earlier, just the quivering look of a scared animal.
“Mr Krastos…” Pinkie began, gathering her thoughts as she looked at the monster in the oven while keeping a tight grip on the door with her forehooves in case he tried to escape. “Am I right in thinking that you wanted a pony to help you because you hate your job and where you live? And that you go around being nasty because making others feel worse than you makes you happy?”
Krastos was quiet for a moment, then his croaking voice echoed out. “Yes. My castle is the foulest, darkest place imaginable. No light penetra– ”
Pinkie cut him off. “So if you don’t like where you live or what you do, and that’s the only reason you’re so mean, why don’t you move?” She looked at Mr and Mrs Cake. “Why don’t you come and live here?”
“What?” The Cakes chorused, staring at Pinkie as if she was mad.
“It’s not true that he’s only brought pain and wickedness into the world, Mrs Cake.” Pinkie began softly. “He also helped you make Mr Cake, and he’s the nicest, most wonderful pony I know. How can anyone who could do something like that be totally evil?” She opened the oven a crack wider, peering back into its depths. “Mr Krastos, what if you carried on doing nice things for ponies, but then skipped the ‘bargain of evil’ part? Then ponies would like you and you’d have lots of friends. You wouldn’t have to upset ponies to be happy, because you’d be happy anyway.”
The creature in the oven seemed to ponder this. “But I am Krastos the Gluemaker!” he finally rasped. “I live in the dark upside-down castle next to the Nightmare Forest! I boil glue in my glue vats! I am the monster that skulks in the shadows!”
“Well you obviously don’t like doing that.” Pinkie gave her biggest, most heartfelt smile into the oven. “You can be whatever you want. Mr Cake’s a cake but he can be a pony. I’m not related to the Cakes but I can still be their daughter. Lemon Dreams can be a lemon if that’s what makes her happy. Just because you’re a monster doesn’t mean you have to be a monster. It’s a mad crazy world Mr Krastos, you should be whatever makes you happy, not what you think you should be!”
Krastos considered this, his red eyes blinking in the darkness. “But I make glue!” he gurgled. “Who would make the glue if I did not boil it in my glue vats? Making glue is all I am good for, I am the Gluemaker!”
“Somepony else can make the glue,” Pinkie replied calmly as if talking to an errant filly. “Somepony who enjoys making glue. And if nopony wants to make glue then Equestria will have to go without! It’s not worth upsetting someone’s life over!”
Mrs Cake had been quiet up until this point as Pinkie talked, but then she stepped forwards to look into the oven, her expression now free of the earlier hate, feeling only pity. “You’re wrong Krastos,” she whispered down. “That night, twenty years ago, you looked so happy and alive when you were baking. I bet you could be an incredible cook. If you wanted to be.”
“I don’t… have to make glue?” There was a hopeful lilt in Krastos’ reply. “I don’t have to live in my horrible castle?”
“No you don’t.” This time it was Mr Cake’s turn to speak, his own face no longer showing any anger. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want. You made me, so in a way, you’re my father.” He looked down at himself, then at Pinkie and finally Mrs Cake. “We might not be a traditional family but then again, who is? Dad.”
Pinkie leaned over the oven door and reached a hoof into the darkness. “What do you say Mr Krastos. Do you want to give it a go? Do you accept our friendship?”
A clawed hand slowly rose to grasp the tip of Pinkie’s hoof.
“Yes.”
***
The next morning, the residents of Ponyville awoke to a worrying sight. The side door to Sugar Cube Corner had been smashed in as if feverishly attacked with an axe. After a few fruitless knocks on the front door, some of the braver ponies decided to enter.
There in the kitchen, they found a giant hairy monster wielding an axe. And he was using the axe to carefully cut slivers of candied fruit to put in cupcakes. What was further confusing was that neither of the Cakes nor Pinkie Pie seemed at all concerned about this.
The worries of the citizenry of Ponyville at the monster in their midst was soon allayed by the fact that the cupcakes he baked were absolutely delicious.
As the days went by the strange monster was seen about the town, and soon became less a figure of terror and more another valued resident. When he wasn’t baking with the Cakes, he would offer to cut the lawn of neighbours’ houses, build boats for ponies to sail on the lake, even give talks about a variety of exotic subjects at the schoolhouse.
Within a few weeks, Krastos had opened his own restaurant in Ponyville. It served the best salads for miles around.
It was here that Pinkie Pie found herself sitting outside one day, feeling oddly alone as the ponies around her laughed and ate their food in the midday sun. Her own meal sat in front of her, a delicious array of leaves and seeds, sprinkled with a dash of beetroot sauce. It was, critics said, one of the best meals available in Equestria, a taste sensation. With a sigh, she slumped down. It wasn’t making it any better.
“Happy birthday Pinkie Pie!” Pinkie turned her head at the familiar rasp beside her, to see Krastos shuffling into view, an apron and chef’s hat strapped to his tall furry frame. “Don’t be sad Pinkie, it’s on the house! And I have some new ice cream I want you to try – it’s party flavour, tastes of parties!” He pulled a seat up as his waiters bustled about the other table, taking a short break from his tasks. “It wasn’t your birthday present was it? I thought you’d like that!”
Pinkie gave a small smile. “No Mr Krastos, it’s not that.” Amongst all the gifts she’d received that morning was a large box entitled “Flim and Flam’s Homebrew Cider Set.” Apparently she could brew forty gallons of cider in her own home. She wasn’t sure where she would put forty gallons of cider. She swirled her fork about in her salad listlessly.
“It’s good news about the Cakes!” Krastos exclaimed brightly, giving Pinkie Pie a little nudge. “Now Mrs Cake has a bun in the oven!” He paused. “Well, cake. Well…” he leaned in towards Pinkie Pie conspiratorially. “Cakes, plural! She made a bit too much dough, so I thought ‘Krastos old chap, give her a double surprise!’ Now they’ll have two foals instead of one, she’ll be double as happy!”
Pinkie stopped her moping to process this. “Uh… I don’t think it works that way…” she began.
“And I still had some mix left over, so I got a bit creative, gave one some wings, the other a horn, a bit of variety is always good!” Krastos sounded so enthused that Pinkie didn’t have the heart to explain why that wasn’t the greatest idea. He peered at his wrist, around which a large watch had been strapped. “A few more hours of cooking I think, foals are much harder than full grown ponies but it’ll be worth it in the end! Of course they’ll have to sneak them into the hospital, and can’t give them a bath for at least three days…”
He trailed off as Pinkie didn’t respond. “Are you… feeling left out Pinkie?”
Pinkie nodded. “Now the Cakes are having foals, where does that leave me? I thought I had two families, and now I don’t know where I fit in either of them.” She slowly brought out a letter and placed it on the table. There was another rock inside, and the envelope bulged at the seams, the flap sticking open. It had become harder to seal letters after the glue shortage. “My family back home, they still don’t understand me. They still send me rocks. That’s not the pony I am!” She pushed the rock out onto the table glumly.
“Is that all?” Krastos reached around with a scaly claw and gave Pinkie a little hug. “Pinkie, the Cakes still love you, of course they do! Foals don’t change that, you’re still a part of their – our – lives! Haven’t you learnt how important self-belief is?” He reached down towards the rock with his other claw, picking it up and peering at it intently with his red eyes. “And I think your family knows you better than you realise.”
Pinkie gave a start as Krastos crushed the rock in his fist, sending small showers of pebbles down. “What?” she squeaked in surprise, but was cut off as Krastos pushed the rock shards into her open mouth.
It started to fizz and crackle. Pinkie’s eyes shot open with surprise at the miniature candy explosion in her mouth. “Pop rocks!” she exclaimed with a full mouth. She laughed. Krastos laughed.
Life was good.
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New Blueshift story?...Dinner can wait, let's get to reading!
*Applauds* That was really well written. I kept holding my breath, waiting for the grimdark, and when it came, it was indeed grimdarky. But thankfully, it ended so happily.
It's also nice to see the old fairy tales be rewritten with ponies. And happy endings, where everyone wins.
This story brought a smile to my face today. Thank you.
416855
Lemon Dreams is my exciting character find of 2012!
416923
Thanks. I like dark stories, but I'm not a fan of grimdark, it tends to be depressing and indicate a lack of hope, which isn't fun for anyone!
Great story, very funny, very grisly, wonderful ending.
417066
Oh, wait, I just realized the story wasn't tagged grimdark. Weird. Must have been way too early in the morning when I read and commented. The rest of my comment still stands though.
Aww. Wait. What. But-
No. No, lets not think to hard.
Aww...
Well that was certainly a roller coaster of comedy and dark. I'm kind of curious as to why Krastos didn't just use some of his old magic to overpower the three ponies beating on him, but I can definitely say I'm happy with the way it ended. Glad I clicked on this.
One thing that bugs me though, in chapter two Pinkie says "I’ve not seen you about before and I know every pony in Ponyville!" To me, at least, it would fit her more if she said "I haven't" rather than "I've not." *shrug*
D'awwww, that was a beautiful resolution and ending. Kudos to you, good sir.
Great story! I really liked Lemon Dreams too
one letter from cave story!
Well, that was certainly...different.
That was an enjoyable read... if not a bit... odd.
Happy end is happy.
This was a very unique story, not to mention very entertaining and well written! I can't help but fave and like this story! Awesome job!
What the heck did I just read?
And why can't I stop grinning?
Help?
Oh. My. God. I had to stop reading after Krastos became a baker because it was so darn adorable.
That really made my day.
Wow, just wow.
Normally I avoid Dark tagged stories like the plague, or I try to because my curiosity alwasy gets the better of me and I leave, feeling sick but without leaving a comment. Thankfully this was not the case this time!
I loved this story and I agree with your response here
417066
Grimdark stuff just leaves me feeling sick and sadly most people don't seem to relize that you can turn dark stuff on its head with the FiM elements without changing the overall message of the story or it's original plot. I wish I found more stories like this.
A few questions about things that I couldn't quite understand: So was it Pinkie Pie who brought Carrot Cake back to life when she put his head back on, kissed him and told him she loved him like a second father? Is Krastos just a thin, scaly thing covered in hair like that gossamer thing from Looney Tunes? Is Carrot Cake flesh and blood now instead of cake and jam? Will Pumpkin and Pound be flesh and blood too after the three day time limit elapses? Is the play that Cup Cake and Carrot Cake went too the original story that this piece was based on? Will the Glue shortage ever be solved? Actually that last one's just an idle thought
.
Also I was really hoping that the "buns in the oven" could bake inside Cup Cake, IE that Krastos could make her pregnant despite her problems so her body could keep them safe until they were done and so she could not only have foals of her own but know what its like to carry them with her for a year (the average gestation for a horse), but that's just how I feel.
I do like how you used Krastos' creativity to explain the implausibility of the Cakes have twins who aren't Earth Ponies.
What touched me most about this story is that it did something I completely did not expect: it featured a headcanon that I held onto for a long time. Up until Baby Cakes was announced I actually had it in my headcanon that Mrs. Cake was, for lack of a better term, barren and unable to have foals, thus she and Mr. Cake "adopted" Pinkie Pie because she was like the daughter they always wanted. Of course that headcanon was dashed once the episode was announced but to see it used here as such a serious plot point and so well too that really hit home for me.
Overall I loved this story and for once I'm happy that my curiosity got the better of me. I wish mroe Bronies would write stuff like this, giving us happy endings even with a dark middle, kudos. Instant Fav!.
424855
Don't worry, you had it all right!
>So was it Pinkie Pie who brought Carrot Cake back to life when she put his head back on, kissed him and told him she loved him like a second father?
Yup! Or more importantly, that it doesn't matter if he's a cake or not, he's still real.
>Is Krastos just a thin, scaly thing covered in hair like that gossamer thing from Looney Tunes?
Yes! Or a living pile of hair with two arms sticking out and a pair of beady red eyes like a pom-pom toy your mum might make for you.
>Is Carrot Cake flesh and blood now instead of cake and jam?
As much as he was before, yes. He's real as long as he thinks he's real?
>Will Pumpkin and Pound be flesh and blood too after the three day time limit elapses?
Yes, as long as noone puts them in the bath or they'll go all soggy :(
>Is the play that Cup Cake and Carrot Cake went too the original story that this piece was based on?
Kinda. Faust is one of those plays/legends everyone has heard of but probably not seen performed. It's about a man who sells his soul to the devil for magical powers, and then the devil comes back to collect http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faust
>Will the Glue shortage ever be solved?
Why good sir, have you not purchased Flim and Flam's Super Sticky Glue?
It's... not very good
424957
Ah OK that answers most of my questions, and yeah I won't buy from Flim and Flam, never have never will. Gotta wonder how Pinkie's little cider machine will work.
I'm going to assume that the twins won't get soggy, since Pinkie Bathed them and they turned out alright. they must be real after all the stuff they put Pinkie Through in Baby Cakes. Of course their origins here would explain their unusual powers and instability.
blueshift, you have turned your amazing trolling talent into amazing story talent that doesn't troll and instead makes stories. Or something. I enjoyed this so much I'm barely coherent.
O.o
This is awesome.
Saw it from EQD.
424984
OF COURSE.
I never thought that this explained their extraordinary powers.
425249
Don't be silly, obviously whoever filled the form in was so bad at spelling they spelt both Dash's parents names wrong with completely different letters.
Right? Right?
425407
Thanks, I appreciate the comments! Pinkie is a massive jerk though, unhindered by social norms. Just look at her treatment of the poor bakers in this week's ep!
426062
All those years of studying literature were not wasted!
(sobs)
What a strange but adorable ending, rather chaotic but it...actually ended all out very nicely, and very fitting of Pinkie Pie.
I did wonder also how you were going to handle the whole "no foals" part considering Baby Cakes. Good stuff! Very bizarre, had a classical vibe, you got Pinkie's personality down good too!
Wait, a glue factory? Pop rocks? Nicolas Cage in a spandex jumpsuit!?
I'm going to sleep now.
*chuckles* Anypony lonely? I can make you a mare or a stallion of your dreams for the right price! For I am, Helix the Geneticist! But be warned, if they find out that they're abominations against nature until 20 years have passed, they shall become.... HUMANS!!! *DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!!
The story was fun, a great way to mix the 'deal with the devil' and My Little Pony. It also brought to mind a tale I recall, from a book of sci-fi short stories. Might have even been one by Isaac Asimov. It was about a family in Phoenix whose neighbors were very odd, they always ate nothing but sweets and never came out where there was even the slightest chance of rain.
And then they finally accepted an invitation to a picnic and it rained on them. And it turned out that they were made of sugar and melted away and then they were dead! That part made me laugh, thinking about their horror and agony as they dissolved! Heh heh heh... even now... hee hee hee... their torment is truly mirthful! *demonic smile* Soooo... anypony care to hire a geneticist? It won't even cost you your soul! (maybe) >:}
This was bizarre. But I liked it.
A day later I still find this story sitting in my head, and I like it. This is the only story that won't leave my mind that I don't regret it sitting in my head, I'm going to download it so I can read it even when I don't have the internet.
I wish I could draw, I would love to illustrate or do a comic for this story.
You won the internet. You may take your prize.
That was an interesting take on the story and I thought it was a fun and cute read. It may be a little unrealistic to expect someone to go from being mean to being nice so easily, or for the Cakes to be so forgiving, those were the only awkward bits. Overall though it had a great flow and a good story and Pinkie Pie was very much in character, which I appreciate. :) Thanks for writing this!
429426
Thanks, well if you do decide to draw something, let me know! The best way to get better at drawing is by drawing after all!
That was most unreasonably brilliant.
I don't understand why, but somehow I couldn't help but laugh when Pinkie sent them to see the play.
Quality gooey comic center, a soul-selling dark glaze, and a little bit of madness sprinkled on top.
I had never expected to mix classical Faust with MLP, but that was quite cool. I do wonder though, what was with the lemons?
428433
I remember reading that story as a kid; 'don't worry, it's not like the rain is going to melt you, hahaha, dead...oops?'
myspace.roflposters.com/images/rofl/myspace/1203178617494.jpg.%5Broflposters.com%5D.myspace.jpg
Very creative; very well done.
At first, I thought this was all a wild goose chase - Pinkie probably ends up involved in a lot of those - then it took a little surprise, then it got a little dark, and then the dark reciprocated snap-fast into light. I'd expected there to be a redemption angle, though I imagine many wouldn't. It fits both with FIM and Pinkie herself, who you would expect to empathize with even the most bitter soul. You also wrapped all this up in a tight 3 chapters, showing authorial restraint and organization. Thumbs up. I'm glad I picked this up for a read.
Is it weird that I teared up a little bit?
This is strangely awesome. Very strangely. And it's solidly put together, too; it sticks to its themes closely, and every little thing contributes to the theme, making sense by the end. That's more than I can say for most published stories, let alone fan fiction.
431524
Thanks. Most of my multipart stories are very similar, in that I take a great care in trying to make them about something rather than just 'stuff that happens'.
My one-shots are usually just silly though!
yep, new favorite fanfic!
Brilliant! Favourited!
This is what.
Beside the definition of what in the online dictionary is a link to this.
I loved this story until it turned out that Mr. Cake was a Cake and all the dark stuff started up. It shattered the whole thing for me when that happened. I wish it had just gone on with Pinkie doing crazier things until the reveal of the big misunderstanding.
This story was amazingly well written. You show some solid writing skills here, good sir. Consider yourself watched from now on.
) told as when we were little foals. It reminded me of Pinocchio somehow. Of course it's a very good thing. 
The whole set-up seemed just like those fairy tales our grannies (or nowadays Disney
I sure hope I'll find your other stories as entertaining as this one.
And have a Pinkie Pie for good measure.
498254
Hurrah, thanks. Star in Yellow is probably my other story most similar to this one
Nice. That was funny, and I ended it with a good feeling inside. I feel very happy for Krastos the Confectioner, and the story teaches a valuable lesson. Nice work.
And, by the way, I am a grimdark writer, but I find that I need to add a chapter or two of fun into my war stories. Like a chapter oriented around the misadventures of my OC and RD after drinking too much at a Pinkie party in the mess hall, and waking up hungover (in separate beds, mind you...or, rather, in Riku's case, under his cot). And I'm going to have an endeavor at a popular sport in After-Stories. Try to guess which sport on my Guessing Game blog post. It's the first of, like, six that I'll probably post.
That was an ending I did not expect! And yet, with Lemon Dream's bits, we should have seen that coming, really...
590243
Good man! I am excited to hear what you think!
I was really pleased with this story but it did seem to vanish without trace under the pile of grimdark HIE being posted at the time. Maybe the lure of a story with Mr Cake was not strong enough!
428433 Do you make changelings? dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Octavia_O_O.png