"Wake up." I feel a nudge on my side. "Hey, I said wake up!" Another. My head is splitting. I bat at whatever is nudging me from the blissful darkness of my sleep. "Sheesh, he's really out, huhn? Come on, Jordan, wake UP!" I grunt as a swift kick lands directly on my ribs, rolling me over as I clutch at the blow with a hand. Compared to the rain of cupcakes from... Was it yesterday? Whenever... It felt almost like a kiss. A very rough, solid kiss...
"Ngh! What?" I look up with bleary eyes at my attacker. Whoever it is, they're dressed in military fatigues. "Who are you?" I groan, wiping my face with a sugar-crusted hand.
"Firstly, I'm your savior." His accent is VERY thick... "Secondly, I am General Dragovich, Stalliongrad infantry. I watched your fight yesterday. No one man should have to fight the pink demon alone. Come." He offers me a hand, rough and callused with long winters and longer wars. I take it, and he immediately turns and walks away. "We have little time." He's walking really fast. Still sore and slightly dehydrated from secondhand cupcake intake, I follow at a fast limp. "The pink one rises with the sun, much like the bread rises in her ovens. Her abyssal, infernal ovens. Come." He sweeps aside into a nearby building. Down one set of stairs and through another door, we're in a parking garage. "I am risking many men on this mission. Do not let me down. Get in." He throws open the back door to a nearby car, what appears to be a sedan.
"What-" From nowhere, ANOTHER cupcake splatters into my shoulder. The general whirls, a pistol in his hand.
"SHE'S HERE! GET IN, GET IN! DRIVE!" Three shots ring out in the early-morning darkness. I dive into the back seat. "DRIVE!" He kicks the door closed behind me, the muffled sound of three more shots coming through the window. The car lurches backwards, engine revving loudly. I sit up and watch out of the window as the general is hit by a cupcake, a second, a third... The horrifying sight of the fourth splattering his face makes me wince. I fasten my buckle as the car roars out of the garage and down the pastry-strewn street.
"Rest in peace, General Dragovich." I say softly. -Thump, thump, thump- Three more baked projectiles splat into the rear window, spaced an even six inches apart. The driver glances into his rearview mirror.
"Nice grouping." With that, he lays on the gas. I watch inbetween the cracks of the pink and blue icing as more cupcakes sail through the air, breaking apart as they roll across the pavement behind the car. We leave my nightmare behind, though I get the feeling somewhere deep inside, it's not over.
-----------------------
I never knew how right I was. The severity of my fate, as laid out that day, was never made clear until much later. De-facto commander of the stalliongrad infantry, I spent the next month in some deep, dark bunker somewhere, arranging defenses, taking insulin shots, trying to lose weight. She was everywhere. She could be anywhere. Many times I had hatched the perfect defense, cackling in triumph before a chimi-cherrychanga blasted through our defesnes, showered me with goopy, sugary cherry filling.
I couldn't sleep. Nightmares of cupcakes with fangs and soldiers under my command splattered with sprinkles, laying defeated on the scarred battlefield danced across my dreamscape. I would wake, and a single loaf of bread would be resting on my nightstand, steaming slightly as if it were fresh from the oven.
Those abyssal, infernal ovens.
"General." An officer salutes as he enters my newly-remodeled secure bunker. "I have someone. They say they are an ally." I return the salute weakly, taking a sip of coffee.
Decaf.
"General Williams." It's a pony, wearing a heavy cape that covers it's features. A not-uncommon occurance. "I have valuable intel for you." Sighing, I lift my gaze.
"Pony, whomever you are, you cannot provide me intelligence on the demon of baked goods and party favors herself. The numbers of our casualties are in the thousands." I slam my fist on the table. "THOUSANDS! All of my men have type two diabetes! Seventeen alone went into coma yesterday! The force of her icing can break bricks and concrete fortifications. Her batter stops bullets and bombs in equal measure. She roasts marshmallows on our napalm. Those devious chimi-cherrychanga bombs rip my men's appetites to shreds, can penetrate to the depths of the very earth... What's more, she has a seemingly endless supply of them. All the flour in the world can't make that much bread... Then there's the pie launchers... Intelligence suggests she has them stashed all over the battlefield." I slam my fist into the table again. "IN CASE OF A PIE LAUNCHER EMERGENCY!" A deafening boom echoes through the fortifications, raining dirt from the cracked concrete cieling.
"AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE DAMNED CANNON!" Almost as if in defiance, a single square of glittering confetti drops from the cieling, fluttering as it lands on the surface of my coffee. Disgusted, I throw the styrofoam cup in the trash.
"I think you'll want to hear this, general..." The pony throws her hood back. It's Twilight Sparkle. Nationally decorated hero and the most skilled unicorn in all of Equestria. I snap to attention and salute crisply.
"My apologies, commander. I didn't recognize you."
"Now's not the time, Williams. Listen." She steps close. "My time is short. But if you must know, Pinkie Pie has a weakness." I lean closer, hands flat on my dirty desk. "Her weakness is..." She raises a hoof, whispering loudly. "Spicy." And with that, she's gone. In a flash of brilliant purple magic, I'm left with only one morself of knowlege.
Slowly, a wicked grin begins to spread across my lips.
"Major."
"Yes, sir!" I lift my head, grinning at my second-in-command.
"Start rallying all the Tobasco and Cholula bottles you can. I'll take it all. Louisiana, McIlhenny, even those little packets of crushed red peppers." The grin widens. "Dare I say... Srirancha..."
"S-srirancha?! B-but, s-sir... The geneva convention strictly states biological weapons are outlawed-"
"TO HELL WITH THE CONVENTION!" I scream, slamming the abused table once more. "One last thing, Major."
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Contact Lieutenant Dash." I smile and turn to the map on the wall behind me. "I'm gonna need some rainbows."