“I still don’t see why Ponyville lets this thing stay up.”
The blistering summer sun hung high in the sky as it relentlessly bore down on the traveling stage magician, Trixie. The Great and Powerful Trixie, she’d quickly remind you, was not a fan of humidity or summer as a season. She made sure her usual travel route avoided backwater villages like Ponyville during the hottest time of the year. Specifically, Trixie toured along Equestria’s north-western coast, near Vanhoover. There, the weather wasn't as bad this time of year. In the region's bigger settlements, Trixie could avoid the diabolical sun by hiding inside any air-conditioned buildings. But in Ponyville? All she could do was appreciate the wide brim of her hat and cape.
“Why’s that? Sugarcube Corner is one of Ponyville’s highlights. It’s practically a tourist stop on its own!”
Unfortunately for Trixie, she was stuck in Ponyville. The only reason she came to Ponyville in the middle of this heatwave was to see Starlight Glimmer, her best friend. While on the road between shows, Starlight sent her a letter via dragonfire candle; a pair of magical artifacts that could send letters between each other. A neat gift from Starlight that kept the two of them in contact, but Trixie wondered how her friend ended up with them. Nevertheless, according to the letter, Starlight picked up a new job with some fancy new school in Ponyville. She was likely going to be very busy after the first semester began in the fall. And so, both Starlight and Trixie aimed to spend at least a little time together before that happened.
Like the great and supportive friend she was, Trixie detoured through the sweltering heat crippling the countryside to Ponyville. Starlight happened to be waiting on the outskirts of town when Trixie arrived, trying to enjoy the sweeping breeze outside of town while flying a kite. Unlike most larger cities, Ponyville lacked any specific laws related to incoming wagons. For Trixie, this meant she could unhitch her wagon wherever she wanted. With Starlight’s help, Trixie unloaded her cart in the towering shadow of the Castle of Friendship. Once freed from the burden of pulling around Trixie’s mobile home, the pair of unicorns meandered through town. The two chatted and caught up on each other’s lives since they last saw each other. Eventually, their walk brought them to Ponyville’s most famous bakery, Sugarcube Corner.
“Starlight,” Trixie droned and gave her friend the most unamused stare she could muster, “I'm getting a cavity just looking at it.”
“Oh come on,” Starlight laughed off Trixie’s concerns with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “It’s not that bad. Besides, they’re doing a special on ice cream cakes because of the weather. How about it? My treat.”
The prospect of ice cream did perk up Trixie, as did getting indoors and away from direct sunlight. She only wished it didn’t involve going into the eyesore that stood before her.
Everything about the building bothered her. The uneven windows and foundation gave the structure an odd, asymmetrical look that seemed ready to topple over on itself at any moment. The gingerbread-like walls and roofing, coupled with the frosting-inspired trim, gave the structure a festive motif. The only issue with such a vibe was that it was the middle of summer and not winter. The architecture of the bakery was one thing – it was ugly – but those issues could be salvaged through landscaping and decorations. In Trixie’s opinion, it was not. Proudly displayed on the roof was a weathervane shaped like a pony holding a candy cane. On its own, Trixie would have considered that somewhat cute, if a little unusual for a bakery. Sadly the pièce de résistance to Trixie’s disdain overpowered any positives she could find. Sat atop a tower, rising into the sky from the center of the roof, was a cupcake. The building, quite literally, looked like it was pulled out of a foals storybook.
But, the promise of food – free food – was enough of an incentive to ignore her issues with the building's exterior. Trixie grumbled and nodded in agreement with Starlight’s suggestion; Trixie did her best to ignore her friend’s amused chuckle.
To Trixie’s surprise, the interior was far more normal than she expected based on the outside. In fact, she’d go so far as to call it drab. The earthy beige and brown walls and trim were only broken up by the occasional splash of lusterless purple-painted accents behind the counter. The pastries on display made up most of the color in the storefront. Emphasis on most.
Behind the counter was the mess of a bubblegum pink mane. The mare underneath was equally vibrant, both in the color of her coat and personality. Her ears perked at the sound of the bell above the front door, and her smile widened when she saw who entered the shop.
“Heyya Starlight, Trixie! You two here to try my new double seven-layer ice cream cake?” Pinkie Pie’s voice bubbled with excitement as she pulled a towering confection that stood nearly twice as tall as a pony from the kitchen. Each tier was stark white and lacked any of Pinkie’s usual decorative flare. “Seven tiers of ice cream cake with seven different layers of flavor in each!”
Starlight and Trixie glanced at one another, both uncertain at the thought of eating a cake that large. Trixie shook her head, silently pleading for her friend to say no. Picking up on the hint, Starlight cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck.
“We’ll have to try that another time, Pinkie.” Both Starlight and Trixie hoped the diplomatic answer would smooth over any qualms Pinkie had. “We just stopped by for a quick bite to eat. So if you still have any of those ice cream cakes on sale–”
“Nope!” The constant blissful joy Pinkie radiated was starting to get on Trixie’s nerves. How anypony could handle that much energy at all times was maddening to her. “Those all sold out earlier. I used all the leftover ingredients to make this!”
“Oh. Well, in that case,” the disappointment in Starlight’s tone was crystal clear, but she pressed on and scanned the specials described on a blackboard, “I guess we’ll take–”
“Sorry, Starlight. But this cake has gotta go. Ice cream melts, you know? The two of you came in here looking for an ice cream cake, and I won’t let you both leave here without an ice cream cake. And this is the only one we have!” Despite the warm, humid air, a cold feeling of dread washed over Trixie and Starlight.
In the blink of an eye, Pinkie plopped the massive cake onto a pan and delivered it to one of the bakery’s few dine-in seating areas. Even with the sun scorching Ponyville outside, Sugarcube Corner was devoid of life. Trixie rationalized that most ponies were avoiding Pinkie’s mountainous dish and aggressive sales pitch. At the moment, she wished she was one of them.
Trixie glanced at Starlight and noted the nervous smile plastered across her face. Between the two of them, Starlight was the one that knew how to deal with this hyperactive pony. If she couldn't devise a way out gorging themselves on this monstrous cake, then at least Trixie could take solace while suffering through this with a friend. Trixie flicked her attention towards the cake, eyeing it. An idea slowly came to life as she stared at the confection. Trixie cleared her throat and rubbed her nose to wipe away any traces of her wry smile. Both Starlight and Pinkie turned their attention toward the showmare.
“Normally the Great and Powerful Trixie wouldn’t indulge herself on something so plain,” Trixie proclaimed, now wearing her confident stage swagger. She flamboyantly threw her head back and placed a hoof over her heart. “But if you insist, then Trixie and her Great and Powerful Assistant will dine on your creation.”
“We will?”
“Well duh. Of course, it’s plain,” Pinkie giggled, entirely ignoring Starlight’s worried question. Trixie raised an eyebrow at that reply, but Pinkie waved off the look directed towards her. “That’s the whole point. It’s not about what’s on the outside; it’s about what’s on the inside.”
Trixie scoffed as she sat down at the table and lit her horn. A knife, bathed in the light blue of her magic, subsequently lifted into the air and dug into the cake.
“That’s stupid. That’s the opposite of this bakery’s branding, from what I’ve seen,” Trixie casually mentioned as she delicately measured the size of the slice she wanted to take. Her voice raised an octave as she mimicked another pony while dramatically waving her hoof around the room, “‘I have a great idea! Let’s open a bakery! The outside can be a colorful and inviting giant gingerbread house! Oh, but I don’t want it to be harsh on the eyes inside. I got it, beige!’”
Pinkie’s eyes shrunk to pinpricks as she sharply inhaled.
“Trixie!” Starlight gasped as her eyes threatened to pop out of her head. “That’s a horrible thing to say!” Hidden beneath Starlight’s unamused accusation, Pinkie repeatedly muttered to herself under her breath. Neither unicorn heard a sound as they continued to verbally quarrel with each other.
“What?” Trixie mused while inspecting her slice of cake. She eyed the various differently colored layers with interest. “It’s true.”
Pinkie’s whole body quaked, growing more intense with every passing second. Neither Starlight nor Trixie noticed the sound of Pinkie’s hooves clicking against the wooden floor. Trixie was too enamored with her slice of cake. Starlight’s own steps drowned out any chance of Pinkie’s personal earthquake being noticed.
“It’s rude!” Starlight quipped as she approached the cake and cut a slice of her own, glaring at Trixie all the while. Seeing her friend join her at the table, Trixie smirked. This was going exactly as she hoped it would. By now, Pinkie’s shaking had evolved to the point where she was essentially pogoing in place. Each hop threatened to bash her head into the low-hanging ceiling.
“I thought being honest with each other was something friends do,” Trixie waggled a fork at Starlight before flicking it in the direction of Pinkie. “Besides, she hasn't said anything to disagree with what I said. I believe that is a win for team Trixie."
Starlight, finally taking notice of the vibrating pink blur, took a step back in concern. Her head tracked the bouncing mare, hypnotizing her with the rhythm. Starlight shook her head, freeing her from her trance, and took a hesitant step forward. She paused and waited for an opportunity to hold down her friend. A further few steps forward and Starlight tried to place her front hooves on both of Pinkie’s shoulders to keep her in place.
“Pinkie? Are you–” Pinkie’s shaking ceased as she grabbed Starlight’s head with her forehooves, pressing their faces together. Starlight pulled back but found Pinkie’s grip firmly kept them together. Worried she might accidentally strike Pinkie with her horn – and afraid of whatever Pinkie planned to do – Starlight channeled her magic, ready to teleport out of the mare’s reach. She never had the chance to use it.
Pinkie screamed in Starlight's face.
“Giant. Gingerbread. House.” Pinkie released Starlight and darted out the front door like a bolt of lightning. Starlight fell to the floor with a yelp as the soft splat of her cake slice, colliding with the ground, followed her cry.
Groaning, Starlight pulled herself up and tracked the dust cloud fading into the distance. A few passing by ponies leaned into the bakery, shrugged at the scene, and returned to their normal lives. She wasn’t sure how, but Starlight knew this day was about to get more complicated for somepony. She just hoped it wasn’t her.
Trixie made a half-interested sound of acknowledgment, and Starlight twisted her head around to eye her friend. With her mouth half-open, about to take a bite of her cake, Trixie was frozen in place, watching the door. This wasn’t exactly the plan she had in mind, but it worked out all the same. Mostly.
“Was it something I said?” Trixie innocently questioned.
Ponyville was an old town. Much of the land in and around Ponyville had long since been claimed and fell under the banner of one pony or another. Fortunately for Twilight Sparkle, the fields surrounding her Castle of Friendship were still owned by Ponyville itself. It made deciding where to build her aptly named School of Friendship a lot easier. Buying from the town was far more straightforward than buying from a company or private citizen. Being a Princess of Equestria certainly helped too. Normally Twilight wouldn’t throw her crown around and use it to get what she wanted, but the chance to show the entire world just what friendship was and the magic that lay within it? That was an opportunity she just couldn’t pass up.
Even now, standing on the steps to her castle, watching as ponies tirelessly worked to complete her school, pride and accomplishment swelled inside Twilight. The construction process has been long, and there was still much to go, but the progress being made was clear. Much of the frame was done, as was the groundwork for the pony-made lake that lay at the entrance of the school. At this rate, the school should be finished well ahead of schedule before the first semester. The Equestrian Education Association already provisionally approved the school and the curriculum she designed. Now, all she needed was the school itself. And students. And teachers. Twilight wondered if she should have organized the staff sooner in her plans...
Over the distant sound of wood cutting and hammering, a high-pitched hum faded in. Twilight’s ears flicked as she tried to understand the growing sound. Was somepony holding a high note? Did she miss a song in town? Again. And why is it getting louder? With a glance toward Ponyville, Twilight registered the sight of a pink blur trailed by clouds of dust. Said blur barreled into her a moment later.
Twilight and her shrieking pink attacker tumbled through the front door to the castle, coming to rest with Twilight on her back. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, Twilight finally got a full view of who stampeded into her. Pinkie Pie – somehow – ended up on her hooves standing over Twilight with a toothy grin on her face.
“Twilight! I just had the greatest, most amazingly important idea I’ve ever had!” Pinkie’s bubbly energy consumed every muscle in her body as even her mane and tail twitched with excitement.
“Pinkie?! What in Equestria could be so important that you needed to tackle me?” Twilight sputtered while she collected her thoughts. With Pinkie standing over her like this, Twilight found herself pinned to the ground. She pressed a hoof onto Pinkie's chest to try and push her away but found her friend rooted to the ground.
“It’s only the best idea ever!” Pinkie leaned down and wrapped Twilight in a powerful hug. With a powerful swing, Pinkie lifted Twilight, so they both stood on their hind legs. “And I need your help to do it!”
Twilight’s horn flashed as she teleported a few steps away, out of Pinkie’s grasp. She stumbled and swayed on her hooves. Normally, teleportation wouldn’t make her so lightheaded, but this time Twilight needed to blink away the dizziness clouding her head. Whether it was because of the spell or because of Pinkie’s assault, she wasn’t sure.
Even with her mind clearer, Twilight cocked her head in confusion at Pinkie’s antics. The party-obsessed pony was blissfully unaware that Twilight had escaped her hug. Pinkie maintained her, now empty, hug while squealing to herself in joy. With a light cough, Twilight shook her head.
“Well, I’ll help if I can.” She paused for a moment as the sound of woodworking echoed into the castle, reminding her of her commitments. “Or at least as much as I can, right now. I still have a lot to do before the School of Friendship’s first semester. Especially with the construction team outside, I need to be around to assist as best I can. Although the foreman keeps saying he doesn’t need my help.” She quietly added that last part.
“Oh,” Pinkie dropped to her hooves and brushed away Twilight’s concern with a shake of her head. “That’s fine. I just need to borrow some of the land around the castle. Or maybe the school? Oh. How about a little land from both?”
“Do I even want to ask why?” Twilight asked with an air of annoyance in her voice. Normally, Pinkie’s uniquely Pinkie Pie behavior didn’t bother her, but today was different. Even Twilight could recognize that the process of starting her own school was fraying her nerves.
Pinkie's unnervingly wild smile returned at Twilight’s question. A few barely suppressed giggles later, Pinkie started skipping in place. Either Pinkie chose to ignore Twilight’s frustrated tone, or she simply didn’t notice it in her own eagerness. Seeing this, Twilight knew she couldn’t stay mad at her friend. It wasn’t often Pinkie was this enthusiastic about something
“Alright, what’s this about, Pinkie?” Twilight asked with a soft chuckle. She threw a wing around Pinkie and guided her into the castle’s main hall. Twilight figured the two of them may as well sit down to talk rather than stand awkwardly in the entranceway to the castle.
The main hall, once lifeless and strange, had long since transformed into an inviting and familiar place to Twilight. While it will never quite take the place of her old home – the Golden Oak Library – Twilight would never say she didn't love her castle. Her new home had become tied to many memories, arguably even more than the old treehouse. This was where Twilight convinced Starlight to give friendship a second chance and become her student; a decision that planted the seeds which eventually sprouted into her School of Friendship. This castle was where she belonged. Without this castle, there was a nonzero chance Princess Celestia would have called her back to Canterlot to live in the Canterlot Castle. Twilight doubted the princess would have her leave her friends behind, but the possibility did exist. Perhaps most importantly of all, the Castle of Friendship forever immortalized her old home – and her friends – in its walls. With the roots of the Golden Oak Library as a permanent light fixture in the main hall, Twilight knew that this castle was forever the place she would call home.
“Well, it started when Mr. and Mrs. Cake wanted to sell some ice cream cakes,” Twilight recognized Pinkie was going into one of her detailed explanations of the day's events, so she took up her seat at the massive magic-infused map that dominated the center of the room. All the while, Pinkie continued prancing around the room, entertaining Twilight with the details of her day. Occasionally, she paused to mime some minor part of her story or to bat at the lights that dangled from the Golden Oak’s roots.
While most of Pinkie's explanation was her usual brand of amusing running commentary, that did mean much of it was insignificant to what Pinkie was ultimately excited about. Learning to summarize a conversation with Pinkie Pie was a skill that had taken Twilight years to master. She managed to glean the most important details of the tale by the end.
“–and then I ran here and into you. Literally! Then you asked–” Twilight had to dive over part of the table to shove her hoof into Pinkie’s mouth to stop her. If she didn’t, Pinkie would have started the story over again when it came up.
“Alright! I think I get the point.” Pinkie tried to respond with her usual “okie-dokie”, but it came out as a muffled mess of sounds. Twilight pulled her hoof back and gave Pinkie an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I still don’t understand why you need property, of all things. If you needed me to talk to Starlight or Trixie, I could understand that. But I'm not sure I understand what you wanted help with that has you so excited.”
“Twilight–” Pinkie stopped herself short as she danced from one hoof to another, trying not to explode in excitement. A fit of giggles overtook her as she pranced in place. Pinkie finally ignored all pretenses of a proper explanation as she squealed, “Giant gingerbread house!”
It took Twilight a moment to understand what Pinkie said. When the realization finally hit, she felt her wings twitch and tense. The color in her face drained away as she spoke, “You want to make a house-sized gingerbread house.” Pinkie loudly embraced her mirth, laughing until she toppled over onto her back.
Twilight had long since forsaken the figuring out the how’s and why’s of Pinkie Pie. But this was one idea that threw her for a loop. Dozens of questions overlapped in Twilight’s head and brought her thought process to a crawl. She sputtered a few times trying to form a full sentence; all she wanted was a starting point to explain how bizarre an idea this was.
The practicality of a full-sized building made of gingerbread seemed minimal, if not entirely nonexistent. Twilight finally began to untangle her thoughts. Surely it would rot away quickly, and that’s assuming gingerbread as a building material would even hold up against the elements for any length of time. Which begs the question of “why make this at all?”. What purpose would a house made of gingerbread actually serve? If you ignore those concerns, the sheer amount of labor needed to make that much gingerbread threatened to stop the project dead in its tracks. How would you bake gingerbread the size of a wall anyway?
Twilight’s inner monologue came to a halt. That was it. That’s how she’d convince Pinkie this was a lost cause. Twilight could appeal to Pinkie’s inner baker and explain how baking this much gingerbread wouldn’t work. Surely Pinkie would agree with that and drop this absurd idea.
Twilight refocused her eyes and blinked a few times. Her eyes felt dry and her neck stiff, but she couldn't place why. Twilight craned her head and neck around in an attempt to stretch her muscles out. In doing so, she realized that, at some point, she had started staring up at the roots of her old home. Bizarrely, she wasn’t quite sure when she started staring at the ceiling and glanced around the room. Pinkie was gone, but a familiar small purple dragon was currently lounging on his seat next to hers at the Map. Spike was rereading an older issue of the Power Ponies, unconcerned that his adoptive sister was staring at the ceiling a moment prior.
“Spike?” Twilight asked while still sweeping her gaze around the room, trying to find any evidence of where Pinkie had vanished. “Where did Pinkie go?”
“You blanked out and didn’t respond to anything, so she asked me how you ended up getting the land for the school. I sent her to Mayor Mare,” Spike replied as he flipped a page in his comic.
“Did she tell you why she wanted property?” Instinctively, Twilight’s wings flared out a bit in frustration.
“I learned to stop asking Pinkie questions like that a loooong time ago.” Spike put his comic down for a moment to lean over the side of his chair. When he came back up, he held out a thick tome towards Twilight and returned to reading with his comic secured in his free set of claws. “Here. You just need to clear your mind and relax.”
The book was surrounded by the light pink glow from Twilight’s horn as it was pulled toward her. Twilight’s ears splayed out flat after she read the cover. The book dipped in the air and spun around to face Spike, showing him the cover.
“Mareiam-Pegasters Grand Ponish Dictionary, Third Edition, Volume One,” Twilight recited the cover, glaring at her adoptive brother. “Spike, this is a dictionary. I don’t read dictionaries to relax.”
For the first time since he sat down, Spike looked at Twilight. His passive gaze pierced through Twilight. For a moment, they locked eyes. Neither sibling willing to admit they were wrong. That is until Twilight glanced away as she accepted defeat.
“...anymore.” Twilight’s soft admission was answered with a light hum from Spike.