//------------------------------//
// -49- Sugarcoated Rules 
// Story: The Anthropologist 
// by Weavers of Dreams 
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If Henry had any leftover fears of ponies hating him for what happened yesterday, they were quickly diminishing. It seemed as though each stall the visited earned him a kind greeting and even a few treats. Mainly in the forms of small candies or odd gifts, but, a couple did stand out.

Such as a skimmer hat from a pegasus named Flitter, who literally dropped it on him from above, and a pair of saddlebags from a white unicorn with purple curls. He thanked each of them in turn and actually began to smile at everyone.

Bon Bon made sure he saved the candy for later in his new saddlebags, so as not to spoil the treat she promised him.

"Woah," was his overly-simplistic reaction to the interior of Sugarcube Corner. This made several of the patrons giggle. It was as if he'd never been inside a bakery before. At least not one like this, anyway.

Mrs. Cake was finding it hard to restrain herself from grabbing a camera and taking a picture of him in that hat. "He's just adorable, Bon Bon. And he's only been here since yesterday?"

The other mare nodded. "Cup Cake, meet Henry Mindell. Think you could produce a proper treat for a well-behaved young stallion?"

"Well-behaved young man," the chubby mare corrected her. This was something she and her husband had had to learn with Timothy. With no small thanks to Lyra. "And, yes. I do believe I can find something, if you'll follow me."

She turned around to lead them behind the counter, but stopped when she found herself facing an overly excited Pinkie Pie. Her expression became firm. "Rule five, Pinkie."

The pink mare slouched and deflated some. "Rule five, Pinkie Pie is not allowed to interact with new arrivals under the age of sixteen unless she is reserved and considerate so as not to frighten them. If she breaks this rule, she forfeits the right to throw a party for said human. Said party can only take place a minimum of a week after the young human has arrived so that they may get better acquainted with Equestrian customs."

She sighed. "Okay, Mrs. Cake, I'll wait a bit before saying hello."

Mrs. Cake patted her proudly on the cheek. "That's my girl, Pinkie."

"But, once the week's up, he's getting a doozy of a party," Pinkie sulked as she slunk off. Half a second later, she was her bouncy self again, as she greeted and approached the other patrons.

"Who was that?" Henry asked form his perch.

"Oh, that was Pinkie Pie," Mrs. Cake explained as she started walking again. "Don't worry about her for right now. First, we need to get you a treat."

Henry was a little confused as he was led behind the counter. "Uuuh... why are we back here."

Mrs. Cake gave him a rye grin. "Because I don't make the mistake of underestimating children. This way you won't let the prices impair your judgement."

"Clever girl," Bon Bon mused as she saw the expression on the colt's face. "I didn't even consider that."

Mrs. Cake chuckled. "I learned that from Timothy. Noticed that every time we asked him if he wanted a treat, he would choose the cheapest menu item. I set him straight as soon as I figured it out. No child of mine's going to withhold himself from this bakery's sugary goodness."

"I'll take a cinnamon roll if you have one, please," Henry asked.

"Oh, well that was fast," Mrs. Cake noted with some surprise. She quickly grabbed a small paper bag and filled it with his request. "You like cinnamon rolls, do you?"

Henry nodded. "Yes. My mom used to make them every Sunday before church. Then my brother joined the Marines and she just... stopped. I guess. Thank you, ma'am."

"Ah, well, just enjoy yourself you polite young man," the chubby mare chuckled as she held up the bag so he could hold it in his mouth. "That'll be three bits, Bon Bon."

Henry quickly found himself sitting in a booth, savoring the most delicious cinnamon roll he had ever eaten. Bon Bon was off to the side, talking with Mrs. Cake, and Twist had said something about a few friends and rushed off. He didn't mind. The place smelled wonderful, it was warm, there was frost on the outside of the window, and the cinnamon roll was the best he had ever eaten.

Then he heard a couple of little gasps.

Looking to the seat beside him, he saw two little diapered pony foals. One was a pegasus colt, and the other a unicorn filly. Both were looking up at him with beady eyes.

Henry chuckled offered them both a piece of his cinnamon roll, balanced awkwardly atop his hooves. "Hehe. You're cute. Want some of my cinnamon roll?"

The two foals gasped and all but engulfed his hooves, which almost made him yelp in surprise. But he remained still as they made sure to lick up every crumb.

"That tickles," he snickered as the filly began suckling on the tip of his hoof where some of the buttercream glaze stubbornly clung.

"D'aaaawww."

Henry's head shot up to see a small crowd of mares and a group of fillies staring at him. His cheek's burned bright red and he found himself trying to search for an escape route. When none was apparent, he attempted to hide behind his hat.

"Oh, don't be like that," said a familiar voice. The hat was lifted to reveal the mint-colored anthropologist. "I just came over here for some lunch, and I find you doing just the sweetest thing. Like babies do ya? You really are one for the babes, eh? Catch my drift?"

Bon Bon laughed. "Well, if he keeps this up, the fillies won't be able to resist."

"Okay, okay, that's enough," Mrs. Cake said with a smile as she collected her babies. "Stop teasing the poor boy."

"Ah, he knows we don't mean anything by," Lyra said as she slipped into the booth to be next to Henry. She rubbed his head with a hoof. "He's tough, he can take it. Right?"

Henry puffed out his chest and cheeks, nodding. The fillies all giggled, and, led by Twist, leapt upon the seat opposite Henry just so they could look at him.

"Thee," she said pointing, "I told you a human wath thtaying at my houthe."

"But he just looks like a boring colt," said one of them, a orange pegasus with a purple mane said. She looked him over with a scrutinizing eye.

"Hey," Lyra piped up, raising a menu above the filly's head warningly. "That's wasn't very nice, Scootaloo. Apologize."

The small pegasus wilted under the mare's glare. "I'm sorry."

"Not to me," Lyra rolled her eyes. "Apologize to him."

"Ugh, fine," Scootaloo sighed. She turned to the colt. "I'm sorry... Henry. Right? Why do you humans have such weird names? Ow!" Lyra had tapped her nose with the menu. "Sorry."

"To steal a line from rarity," Lyra said as she pointed out her request on the menu for Mrs. Cake's benefit, "a lady should consider her words before speaking."

"I'm not a lady," Scootaloo humphed, crossing her hooves in front of her chest defiantly.

"Not with that attitude," Lyra remarked with a sigh. "But, I'll let your honorary big sister sort things with you."

Scootaloo just huffed in annoyance. The other fillies snickered.

"Never mind her," said a yellow one with a big pink bow in her red mane. "Unless it's blue or explodin' into a giant rainbow, she'll take a little warmin' up. Ah'm Applebloom, by the way. Pleased tah meet'cha, Henry."

"H-hi," Henry responded around his cinnamon roll.

"Ah, he's shy too," the little white unicorn of the group spoke up. "Are you scared of girls?"

"Girls are mean," was Henry quick, almost instinctual response.

"Ah, see what ya did, Scootaloo," Applebloom scolded her friend.

"What'd I do?" the pegasus demanded.

"Ya went and called his name weird," Applebloom explained. "He must still be upset about it."

"I said I was sorry," Scootaloo snapped.

"Well, obviously, it weren't good enough."

"Calm down, girls," Lyra said as she waved her hooves to get their attention. "What I think Henry meant to say is that the girls he knew back home were mean to him. Am I right?"

Henry nodded sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Aw, that's not good," the good anthropologist said sympathetically, giving him a little hug. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

She pulled out a little booklet from the saddlebags she was wearing. "I am writing a small journal on the experience of living with a human. Just for a little posterity."

"I-I'd rather not," Henry said as he slipped from Lyra's embrace. He quickly tried to go back to eating his cinnamon roll. But found it being devoured by a certain purple filly wearing a propeller beanie who had not been there before. This made him a rather upset. "Hey! That was mine."

"I know," said the filly turning her swirly eyes upon him with a grin. "I should feel bad about it too. Which I do. Which is why I'm giving you this one."

Another cinnamon roll appeared in the filly's other hoof, steaming and seemingly fresh from the oven(1). She set this one down in front of the wide-eyed colt with a chuckle. "So, like a little strange magic, Henry? We're friends now, right?"

And that was how Henry met Screwball and the CMC.


*	*	*


(1) Ever since then, Pinkie would swear up and down that there were a dozen in that pan. The experience traumatized her for a whole two minutes.