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It is early in the morning, as I wake up in the freshly made and squeaking clean bed.
“That is odd, even if I do recall going to bed in this bed; I am used to lesser sleeping arrangements, from when that griffon trader owned me.
Of course, he is a griffon; but what would a griffon care about comfortable or clean beds? Where did that question come from, none had ever explained about griffons, ponies or the cultural differences between the respective peoples.
“Am I going to experience these unexplained questions often?” I ponder, as I realize the situation.
The pony known as Pinkie Pie is my owner now. She is of course owning this entire building and the cafe; right along with me and the two other girls I am currently sharing this home with. Maybe I should not complain? The other girls are fairly nice, and I do enjoy the presence of this pink pony, named Pinkamena Diane Pie.
“The name is strange, in so many different ways; my head hurts, if not for Pinkie herself!” I ponder.
Of course I never considered to remove the collar, or necklace she had given me. It is not for a mere girl to question the owner of her. If said owner is as nice as Pinkie is, it is merely unthinkable to protest.
“Is it a genuine gem? Is that actually a Ruby?” I ponder; knowing that there isn’t anyone, or anypony to answer the question here with me, right now.
In the end, I fold up the quilt and slip my legs out from under the quilt. I open my eyes, only to see that I am still wearing these boots, Pinkie Pie gifted me with. Of course, she never told me to take them of; maybe that is why I forgot to slip out for them before bed? Aside from the fact that these boots are so comfortable, they are practically growing on me.
“Why did she choose this design for the boots I am wearing?” I ponder.
I had chosen the equine model, over the cervine; since she had told me to choose. I never considered to try the other pair on. Maybe I should have, or maybe it is just as good that I never did.
I barely feel the pink rubber the boots are made out on my skin, that is how tight and exact the fit is. Should I have been worried? I have slept on the matter, finding this quite acceptable and comfortable.
Of course, I wear the entire uniform; including the top, the skirt and the panties too. I did actually take that hat of, before I went to bed. It is in fact resting on the nightstand.
As my legs slide out from under the quilt and I sit up, my hooves slide down and hit the floor with a characteristic squeaking little noise. Something I will simply have to get used to, now. It does not bother me; it isn’t that loud or bothersome to me, in the first place.
I feel the floor distinctly, under my bare hooves; which is how I am going to refer to it, from now on. While I could take these boots of off me; even if just to swap between one pair of boots to the other. I will assume; that the option to choose is still open, to me. She never told me; that the choice is permanent.
I raise to my hooves, from where I sit at the edge of my bed; turn around and fold the quilt back down and make the bed perfectly smooth. At least, it will look good; I will simply have to experience the bed tomorrow, to make up my mind on this matter.
Once I had made my bed; I turn, bend over and pick up the uniform hat Pinkie had given me to wear. Now I put the hat on my head and stand up, once more.
“Wait, something is missing!” I realize.
It is as if I had been told to wear one more item, which I had never been given. It is the hat, that reminds me of the missing item; as if the hat is somehow linked, to that one missing item.
“What could it possibly be? I am missing something and it is not in the room!” I ponder.
The missing item simply has to wait, for when it is presented to me. Hopefully, later today. The Derpy-mail had delivered my necklace, so maybe that grey mare could deliver the missing item. I enjoy the enthusiasm the mare had and still is radiating.
“There is something about that mare; I just could not help, but enjoy about her!” I realize.
It certainly is not the yellow hair, or the gray coat of fur; but something from deep within her very personality. She makes me feel happy, when she is close by. I had found her to be the kind of pony you just can’t help but enjoying.
“If I bake lemon-surprise muffins, maybe she comes over to the cafe?” I ponder, not knowing why I should be baking that particular flavour.
“Of course, that is life around Pinkie Pie!” I ponder; even if I had never had the chance to be around her, long enough to know of this.
If I wear the complete uniform, I do not need to look for any clothes to wear. Not that I had needed to wear clothes among ponies, would I? At least, ponies rarely need clothes in Ponyville.
I had not been in Ponyville long enough, to know just how warm and friendly the place is. The rain only comes, because the ponies called it fourth; aside from the weather-systems that hails from the forest of Everfree, of course. Nothing works right, there; from what I understand.
“Um, why do I keep having these images, flashes and strange memories I can’t account for?" I question.
“It is Pinkie Pie, of course; nothing works normally with her!” I realize.
“It is, as if one is the shadow of the other; I just do not know if it is the pony or the forest that is the shadow of the other!” I think.
I still see the nightstand by the side of my bed, now empty and devoid of the hat that had been its purpose all night. The walls are blank and white, just as the rest of the room. It is so white; I can barely even make out where the door is, if it was not for the handle. Is there a wardrobe? I can’t make it out. I simply can’t see it.
In the end, I walk over to the door and open; steps out of my room only to find myself outside and close the door behind myself.
“The kitchen!” I mumble, quietly in the hopes not to wake anyone up.
“Baking, baking; baking muffins, sweet and sour like a lemon surprise!” I hum, as if it had been a catchy song.
Maybe I should be baking these muffins in the kitchen, in the cafe; but I do not feel like going down there, just yet. Not before breakfast, anyway. I had not been told, I need to bake in the cafe kitchen, either.
While the oven will be larger, and thus capable of swallowing larger plates; making it easier to bake faster and larger pastries than I could in this personal kitchen.
I stack three plates of assorted muffins, placing them on the kitchen table; picking a muffin from one plate and chew on it, thoughtfully.
Maybe I should have a few leaves of salad? I pull out a few bowles containing sorted vegetables; slipping a pinch of this and a pinch of that in a bowl for myself and place it on the table. The barely moist vegetables looks delicious, on second thought. I sit down in my chair and pick at my salad with my hands and stuff my mouth and chew.
My hands are not exactly bare, so long as I am wearing these gloves Pinkie Pie gave me; yet they feel as if they had been bare, nonetheless. Maybe this is the same enchanting illusion that makes my boots feel as if my legs are bare. Which is what makes me refer to what had been my feet, as hooves now.
Once I had emptied my bowl, I push the chair back and raise to my hooves. From there, i trot around and gather the ingredients to bake the desired muffins. I return to pick up a muffin and chew on it as I bake.
Once the dough is ready, I leave it to rest for a moment, while I am snacking on more of the remaining muffins of yesterday. Should I have been worried, that we actually still do have any muffins leftovers from a day before? I guess this is due to the fact that we have not opened the cafe for business just yet. Once the cafe is open for business with customers, there will be no leftovers a day after baking.
“Was that another pink-influenced thought? Worrying about muffin left-overs from a day before?” I ponder.
"Now, that is just weird!” I decide, for myself.
There is a characteristic ping, from an imaginary egg-watch; the dough is ready. I pick up a pair of baking spoons and fill a silicon muffin form with a measure of muffin scent is already delicious just wait until these have been properly baked. Then Derpy will love her set of muffins, I just baked for her.
I open the door to the oven and slide the plate right in, before I close it up once more. While the muffins are baking in the delicious heat in the oven, I fill up the next plate full of muffin forms.
The scent of muffins is slowly spreading into the entire kitchen and then into the rest of our little home. It isn’t as if the fact was bothering me; the spirit of Pink is filling me up like the spirit of Christ filled up his disciples back in the day and age. The scent of freshly baked pastries is like a sweet drug, I can’t get enough of it; knowing the joy I impart all my friends and the smiles spreading out on their faces, as they see and taste these baked goods.
“Am I the spirit of present, or presents? I guess that is one and all the same!” I ponder, momentarily distracted by a stray thought.
Stray thought is something I am struggling to get used to, from the time I moved into this house. It could as well have been known as the Church of Pinkie Pie, for all I know and care. Then again, what do I know?
Life is a blur, but I am happy; so long as Pink is my spirit animal. Or if I permit her to physically own me, making me do what she pleases. Then again; she makes me bake muffins in silicon forms and spread joy all over the place. Is there a reason to complain, or a cause for complaints?
Just as I am about to open the oven, once more; I hear the characteristic squeaks from two pairs of hooves. My companions have been awakened, now curious as to the origin of the most delightful scent in the kitchen. I could not blame them, how could I?
“What is that delicious scent from?” Emerald inquires.
“Is that, is that actually the scent of freshly baked muffins and lemon surprise?” Amethyst continues.
“Breakfast is served, and we do have a few freshly baked, directly from our very own oven!” I point out.
“Bon appetite!” I exclaim, offering their respective seats.
"I am starved!” Emerald points out.
“I am positively famished!” Amethyst fills in, without the slightest hint of irony or sarcasm.
“Just help yourselves, while I carry a plate of freshly baked muffins, lemon surprise down to the cafe a flight of stairs down!” I point out, matter of fact.
I had after all just had my breakfast. That included a plate of day old muffins and a large bowl of salad.
After I turned off the oven; I pull out the plate of muffins, wearing a pair of oven mittens. I close the oven after myself; before I trot out of the kitchen, down the flight of stairs and deposit the entire set of muffins on a tray in the empty display case.
“There, now we are ready; for our first guest, of the day!” I point out.
Of course, there is nothing to display; aside from a plate of muffins. I will need to bake several more plates of pastries and buns of bread; before we could proudly open the cafe, for Pinkie to be proud of us.
I hear the steps of hooves, as Emerald bounces down the flight of stairs to see what I am doing. As she is finally down, she just giggles.
“I should trust my sister; Ruby, to carry down a plate of freshly baked muffins to the display-case a flight of stairs down in the cafe!” she merely gasps, in sudden hysterical amusement.
“Derpy could burst through the door, at any moment!” I point out.
“We are not even open, yet!” she retorts.
“No? She is the mail-mare, and I like to give her the chance to be out first customer, after the nice gift she delivered as mail-mare the other day!” I point out.
“Oh, yeah; that Derpy Whooves? I do love that gift, she delivered!” she responds.
“I know Ametyst loves it, just as much as we do!” I add.
“But, why did you bake muffins, lemon surprise of everything you could possibly come up with?” she then inquires.
“I was inspired, by a pink vision; that told me, she loves this particular pastry!” I explain.
“I guess we are living under Pinkie Pie’s roof, and she is the most chaotic and madly insane that could possibly trot on four hooves!” she points out.
“Good thing, you pointed out that she is trotting on four pink hooves! Otherwise, I am Chaos incarnate, and the name is Discord!” a voice is echoing, in the room.
“That, was expected!” my sister Emerald points out, just as the echo of the voice of the draconequus had died, and the room once more is perfectly still and quiet.
“Don’t tell me, the draconequus, Discord was just here!” Amethyst exclaims, once she had finished her breakfast and bounced down the flight of stairs.
“We live under the rule of Pinkie Pie, expect the unexpected; for nothing is truly impossible, while she is in the room!” I point out; giggling hysterical for several very long minutes, before I manage to calm down enough to gather my wits enough to stand still.
I sit down on one of the new chairs Pinkie Pie had asked Twilight Sparkle to tele-port in the other day. The next moment, there is a curious, excited knock on the door. Amethyst trots off, to the door in the intent of opening for Derpy.
“Hi, I have a delivery; for Ruby, Emerald and Amethyst!” she exclaims, just as Amethyst manages to open the door.
“Speak of the mail-mare and she shall appear; as if summoned, and bearing gifts!” Emerald whispers.
“You never know, but never say anything like that; it is rude, and you know that perfectly well, dear sister!” I respond, quietly.
Some things should never be said, or even be permitted to take shape in thought or delirious dream. Some comparisons may carry dangerous repercussions, beyond the comprehension of mere mortal girls like us.
“Let me guess; Rarity sent you, Derpy!” Amethyst suggests.
“As a matter of fact, she did just that!” Derpy points out, as she is pulling out three boxes from her mail-bags.
“Come right in, Derpy; we would love to invite you to be our first guest at the cafe!” Emerald points out, beaming at Derpy.
“Thank you!” Derpy responds, grinning as she trots into the room.
Amethyst closes the door, before she is following the grey mail-mare into the room.
“As the first guest, your visit is on the house!" Emerald explains; knowing exactly what Derpy is looking for, even before she is turning her gaze towards the display-case by the counter.
“Muffins!” Derpy exclaims; lured by the scent of the freshly baked goods, before she manages to see the pastries on display.
“Exactly!” I respond; pulling one out and place it onto a small plate, before I carry it over to the table for four.
“Thank you!” Derpy exclaims, as she is sitting down.
“I hope you will enjoy the muffin!” I add; while she is still just staring at the pastry, before her.
Of course Derpy’s love for this baked goods is the talk of the town, even before we will have the chance to hear of it. On the other rubbery pink hoof, the spirit of presents will not permit us to make the mistake. She had told me ahead of time, exactly what to bake for our first customer. She had been right, just as every pony of Ponyville already had known for ages upon ages by now.
“You do know that the gift is from Rarity, right?” Derpy inquire.
“Yes, we know! Just as we know everything else in the room is belonging to Pinkie Pie! Yet, the warm and enthusiastic smile is from you, Derpy!” I point out.
“It is your genuine enthusiasm, we enjoy so much!” Emerald adds.
“I know that I do not have much, but what little I have; I appreciate all the more!” Derpy explains; “And while I know I am not the best; brightest or most athletic of ponies even in Ponyville, I do my best every day! I am content with what little I have!” she then adds.
Amethyst sneaks off behind the counter and extract a small gift box and inserts four muffins into it, before she is closing it quietly. She carries the small, white paper box to the table and places it before Derpy.
“I want you to take this home and enjoy it with your family!” Amethyst explains.
She gives no further explanation, asking for none and nothing in return. Sometimes, giving the gift is actually better than to be given one. This is in the house of Pinkie, and in the spirit of presents; after all.
Keeping the popular mail-mare happy does never hurt anyone, of course; just as a genuine smile may be the best gift one could possibly give.
“One can give a new friend an entirely unrelated gift for absolutely no reason, as a one-time gift! There need to be no reason given, for a gift to a friend, new or old!” I ponder, giggling inwardly.
“Maybe it is Rarity’s spirit of generosity, haunting our home!” I realize.
If the gift of a muffin is making a pony smile, how could Pinkie Pie object?