//------------------------------// // The Bean Based Chapter // Story: Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits // by Fuzzyfurvert //------------------------------// The mid-afternoon quiet of Sunset Shimmer’s one bedroom—one room, really, plus a big bathroom and a closet-sized kitchen ‘nook’—home was rudely, violently, shattered when the door got kicked open.  Standing in the doorframe, multiple plastic grocery bags hanging from her arms and breathing rather hard, was Sunset Shimmer. “I’ve always wanted to do that!”  She lifted one booted foot, an angry smirk playing across her face.  “Thank Celestia for steel toes! AAAaaarrrgg!” Sunset slammed down the boot back to the floor and tromped loudly into the kitchen nook, bags swishing and swaying like a dozen produce-filled wrecking balls.  “Ggggrrraaggg!” Sunset dropped the bags in a heap on the little table with its two mismatched chairs and beat up old laptop.  She roared at the ceiling, pulling out tomatoes on the vine and red onions the size of her fists. Fresh wet Iceberg lettuce came out next.  It was joined by a couple of limes and an enormous Hass avocado. Green and red peppers, plus a disturbing amount of jalapenos, fell from the grocery sacks Sunset ripped away and threw vaguely toward the trashcan in the corner.  The last bag she upended unceremoniously with the primal scream of a hunter falling upon her prey. Dairy products littered the mix of vegetables, sour cream and three kinds of grated cheeses, the bags flopping haphazardly, and on top of it all a small jar of store brand salsa. “Aaahhh!  Did I forget the chips?!” Sunset spun on her heels and marched, fuming and bowlegged over to the pantry door and threw it open.  Inside lay many sundry goods, canned food and other home supplies. Right on the middle shelf, however, sat a pristine, unopened, bag of crispy...crunchy...flour tortilla chips.  A second later the chips were sailing through the air over Sunset’s shoulder to join the pile of food stuffs on the table. The pantry door slammed shut and Sunset stomped hard up to the counter and started opening drawers left and right until she found what she was looking for: a knife long enough to be classified as a short sword.  Then she opened up the dishwasher and gently pulled out the top rack. On said rack was a pony with pink fur and pinker curly hair rolled up like a snoozing cat-ball. Sunset booped it on the nose with her finger. Sunset grinned manically, knife in one hand as she slipped a sticky, phallic shaped stack of magically infused beans from her vest jacket pocket.  “Wake up loser, we’re making nachos!” The pony blinked huge, sleepy, blue eyes, glancing from the knife to the beanis in exaggerated slow motion. “Also I need the cutting board.”  Sunset pulled out the lower rack and extracted a wide, flat board of microbially resistant plastic, stomping back over to the table with her hands full.  The cutting board hit the table with a bang. The beanis was underhand tossed at the fridge, its suction-cup base keeping it there to wobble between the magnets and sticky notes.  Then the knife came down, snicker-snack, separating tangy tomato flesh from the vine. She threw the stalk away and went to town on the tomatoes. Her blade work was fast, guided by muscle memory developed under the lights of the Blood Dome.  She was more of a blunt force trauma type of girl, favoring her bat, so her chopping wasn’t chef-levels precise. But it was quick, reducing the lumpy, tangy spheres to diced piles of chunks. Still moving with groggy slowness, the pony in the dishwasher slurmed down from the racks to the floor, hoofing a wide berth around the refrigerator until she reached the table.  The pink little thing sat down on its rump at Sunset’s feet, knickering softly, one eyebrow raised. “Nope!”  Sunset grinned and swept the chunks aside, stabbing an onion next and making short work of the outer layers and revealing the glistening innards. The tiny pony coughed, both eyes going wide.  She neighed and gasped, bouncing to her hooves again and looking across the little nook at the still bobbing bean based marital aid.  She pointed one hooftip at it, flapping her ears back and forth. “What?”  Sunset’s hawing slowed just a touch, the onion’s wet insides spreading out in a loose pile of bits and pieces.  Her eyes watered, but she looked down at the pony with an annoyed frown. “No! That’s part of lunch, not for after.”  Sunset slammed the last large-ish hunk of onion with her knife, sweeping the remains into the same pile with the tomatoes.  Jalapenos replaced it on the cutting board, Sunset’s frown slowly unknotting until her expression was carefully calm. “This is self care, Sunset.  Let the anger go. Push it out into the world and let in cool air in its place.” She took a deep breath, blinking away the proto-tears forming in her eyes.  She let it out in a long whoosh, the rhythmic chopping starting up once more.  She looked back down at the confused pony at her feet when it knickered and snorted.  “It’s a long story. The essentials are that my friends are frequently wack-a-doos with more libido than sense, Twilight made a bunch of those things and got hyperwealthy off it, then she went the extra mile and started some convoluted scheme to rise to world domination.” More horse noises came from her shins. “No, in a sort of ‘benevolent overlord' kind of way.  It’s disturbing, but also a little cute, and the real problem is,” Sunset shook her head ruefully, watching her fingers gently press more veggies into her personal woodchopper, “that when I think about it on a meta-scale...it’s the same thing I tried to do.  Just more lewd, I guess. “There’s some questions about her real intentions, what with Midnight still being a part of the Twi-picture.  And there have been multiple time travelers coming back to stop things. There’s a cult that’s sort of involved, though I’m honestly a little fuzzy on that aspect of this madness.”  Sunset stopped chopping and turned back to the cabinets, pulling out several bowls and large platters. She ripped open the chips and poured the whole thing out into the biggest mixing bowl she could find.  “There have been a lot of things that have happened which I am not okay with. Kinda sent me off the deep end, really. Wound up in Fiji for a while, fighting people in a blood sport. I was kinda sickeningly good at hurting people.  I beat the tar out of Flash.” The pony took a step back away from Sunset, her muzzle hanging open and pupils turned to dots.  She snorted, stomping a back hoof against the kitchen linoleum, her tail shaking like a minor earthquake. “Yeah...you’re right, that wasn’t nice of me.”  Sunset paused, bowl of chips still in her hands, letting her words sink into her own flesh like thorns.  “I wasn’t in my right mind. I wasn’t processing things in a healthy way. Which isn’t an excuse. It’s just the truth.  And it took a near-death experience at the bottom of the sea to make that clear to me. But I promised I wasn’t going to run away again.  Which...well...this is sort of running away, but I fully intend to go back and be with my friends and start again at trying to be my best self, you know?” With a sigh, the bowl plopped onto the table to accept the dump of vegetable matter from the cutting board.  Sunset opened the lettuce and pulled it apart with her hands, licking her lips to keep her drool from dripping into the mix.  “I just needed to come to a place that was uncontaminated by this whole beanis thing. My version of Equestria isn’t even safe from it now.” The pony sat back on its haunches, glancing over at the beanis stuck to the fridge door. “Don’t worry, that’s one of the older models.  It’s just beans and a bit of magic. No eJaculet, no frills or weird extra functions.  It’s not even bluetoothed. After I’m done with it, there won’t be anything left to stain this place.”  Sunset smirked, feeling more like her old self than ever. “Beanis dies here, and I’m taking back nachos.  Open the cheese, filly, and let’s do this up right. I’m feeling like having a nacho-party-for-two!” The pink pony broke into a beatific ear-to-ear smile like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.  With a loud bark of equine laughter, it reared up, kicking it’s hooves. Then it jumped from the floor to the table, a blur of dairy products flying through the air a split second later.  Sunset snrked and yanked the beanis off the fridge, joining the pony in a flurry of delicious food prep. The magic flowing through the beans resisted the blade of her cleaver with about as much strength as plastic wrap.  Once she broke the bonds with cold, hard, surgical steel though, the whole thing lost cohesion. A minute later, bean paste topped a bowl of chips, sour cream, cheese, guac, and enough roughage to please both current and former herbivores. It transferred from the kitchen to what passed for the living room, settling on the low coffee table while Sunset and pink pony poltergeist crashed down on the couch.  Remote in hand, finger on the buttons, the real action started on the TV, Sunset’s favorite shows playing from her DVR. By the time the first episode was done, the nachos were half gone and she felt both full and relaxed.  Content, even. It was a good feeling. Two episodes later and they were fishing out the last of the chips, loading each one down to the point of snapping under the weight of the remaining toppings. “And that’s how I got here!”  Sunset chuckled, brushing crumbs off her chest and into the couch cushions.  That would be a problem the local Sunset could deal with later. The itty-bitty horse next to her was also brushing crumbs off her swollen belly.  The nacho bowl between them was all but empty. As good as she felt, it was about time to pack up. “Nifty little trick, honestly. Find the right portal at the right time and the equestria or humanlandia you go to is just a tiny bit different.  Do it enough and before you know it, you’re in an alternate dimension that’s never heard of beanis and never will either. All I got to do is retrace my interdimensional steps and blamo! Back home I go. Same as you.” Sunset burped, loudly.  She smacked her lips, hitting the remote to stop the playback, and looked over into the kitchen area.  It was a mess in every meaning of the phrase. It’d be a real dick move to leave that for her counterpart, but at the same time...she really didn’t want to do the alternate version of her dishes.  She looked at her companion, eyebrow cocked. The tiny pony stuffed the last hoofful of toppings and damp chip bits into its mouth and chewed away at it for a long moment before following her gaze.  It sighed, a little thing, full of an all-too-familiar emotion: resignation. But when it turned back her way, it was with a genuine smile. A little hoof reached over and patted her hand. “Thanks, Pinkie.  You’re a true bro.”  Sunset laughed and sat up with some effort and more burping.  “I really appreciate it. The Sunset that actually lives here will too.”  With a grin, she held up her fist, knuckles out toward Pinkie Pie. “Oh, and if you find your way back into my bra drawer, feel free to snag a pair.  I got plenty and more than enough in the bank to replace them.” Pinkie copied her, bumping her hoof against Sunset’s fist above the nacho bowl.  They both blew raspberries, pulling back and wiggling their wrists. With another whinny, the pink one sprang up and grabbed the bowl in her teeth to trot back into kitchen nook.  She dumped the leftovers into the garbage disposal, flicking her tail out to turn on the tap in the sink. She was going to need to pre-wash everything before it could go in the washer itself.  By the time the sink was full, Pinkie heard the other Sunset leave, cursing out-of-character as she tried to get the door to close right behind her. Pinkie was going to need a screwdriver and some wood glue too. Sunset groaned, kicking off her geta sandals and wiggling her toes.  The space between her big toe and the rest felt raw and sore and her arches felt collapsed.  It was part of her uniform for her new job as a hostess at the Sushi Shack, but they were killing her after just one shift.  The chopsticks in her hair weren’t all that great either, but her scalp felt a heck lot better than her feet. It was also kind of cute, so she couldn’t complain that hard.  Plus a paycheck at the end of the month would be a very nice bonus. She fished her keys out of her pocket and slipped one into the knob lock.  Then she turned. The knob didn’t. It rattled, and there was an unhealthy metallic grinding noise.  “The hell?” She tugged on the door again, the handle releasing and shifting in her grip a bit. Her door swung open at a slant it didn’t have when she’d left that morning.  Inside her apartment was spotless-er than when she’d left. “Okay...what is going on?  Am I about to find more bra-art, or some other crap?”  Sunset took a careful step forward, raising her arms up defensively at her sides.  Nothing moved. Everything was clean, fresh, and pristine. Absolutely nothing was pink or horse-like. Frankly, it was creepy as all get out. “Alrightyyyy…”  Sunset let out her breath slowly, running her fingers through her hair, pulling the chopsticks loose in the process.  She paced over to her kitchen table, setting down her clutch and pulling crumpled order sheets from inside her shirt. She tossed them into the trash, freezing when she saw a lot of cast off veggies mixed in with the paper and other detritus of her life.  She swallowed hard. “Oh sweet Celestia...now it’s cooking and cleaning up while I’m gone?! It’s either evolving, or it’s not a ghost, and instead it’s a roommate...that doesn’t help out on rent...but does clean up after themselves…” Sunset bit her lip, rolling it between her teeth as she spun around in a lazy circle, taking in everything.  “Should I be thankful or horrified? I really should ask Twilight about this.” She sighed, the weight of the day coming down on her all over again.  This was a task for another day. A question for future Sunset to parse. Right now she just wanted off her feet and to watch the shows she’d taped. Hunched, barely lifting her heels, Sunset shuffled over to her couch and let gravity handle the rest.  Her butt hit the cushions with a soft crunch and a dab of cold wetness right on her brown eye that immediately seeped through her shorts. “Aaarhh!”  Rolling onto one hip, she reached in between herself and formerly comfortable sitting, pulling out a lent and bean paste covered tortilla chip.  “Okay, exneigh on the thankful feeling. We’re going straight to horrified.” With a huff, Sunset righted herself, shaking in involuntary disgust at the feeling betwix her cheeks.  At least there was binge watching to wipe her mind clean, right? She called up her menu, scrolling to her favorite show and finding the first few episodes marked ‘watched.’ Her lips in a tight line that was the fury side of a frown, Sunset glanced back at the offending chip.  “If this keeps up, I’m going to have to plan a trip to Fiji for a week...it’s getting to me, man…”