What is it about summer that brings out the purple in my scales? I don't remember sweating this much last July. Aren't I only supposed to feel hot if—like—I fall into a volcano crater or something? I mean, I imagine most dragons don't perspire as much as I do. Maybe it's an age thing; everypony keeps telling me that I'm still a "baby." Feh. Whatever.
I'd ask Twilight, but she claims that she doesn't know much about dragons. Maybe I can talk her into a research project about them or something. I know how much she likes those random, boring study sessions. I'll be sure to mention it to her, right after I talk her into practicing the new beard spell again. I heard Rarity saying something about how nice Sean Cantery looked with facial hair. Heh, I know I've been down this road before, but it wouldn't hurt to try again, right?
Oh, hey. Sugarcube Corner. Uhhhh... What was I coming here for again? Oh yeah! Twilight wants me to reserve a seat for her and the girls tonight. Duh! I swear, if my head wasn't attached to my body, it'd go wherever my wings went.
The bell above has a nice ring to it as I walk in through the front door. Boy, it sounds just like a tuning fork clanking against an aged fire diamond. Mmmmm... Yeah. There really aren't enough gemstone stores around here. Would it really kill somepony like Bon Bon or Ms. Cake to open up a "Stonecube Corner?"
Oh, hey, speak of the devil. "Hi there, Ms. Cake!" I say, waving my arm.
"Ohhh, why hello there!" She grins from behind the counter and sets down a big, white, marble cake with several stacks of frosting. "Well, if it isn't Ponyville's handsomest dragon whelp!"
Don't stare at her huge dimples. Don't stare at her huge dimples. Don't stare at her huge dimples.
"Ahem, so, uh..." I lean up against the counter. "Twilight Sparkle sent me to ask if there were any available seats for reservation late this evening."
"Hmm, I don't think any patrons have made plans!" With a pleasant smile, the mare grabs a notepad off a nearby baking counter and prepares to write with a pen planted between her teeth. "Mmmf—Plenty of spaces between six and nine! Mmmf..."
Wow. I can't get over just how much it'd stink to have to write with your mouth all the time. Twilight sure is lucky. Heh, guess I am too. Heheh.
"Uhm..." When did Twilight want it? Oh right. "How about eight o'clock? Is that too late for the girls to have their get together?"
"Not at all! Mister Cake and I will be here after-hours baking for a wedding shower tomorrow morning anyways!" She pauses to scribble across the notepad before marking something on the day's calendar. "Aaaaaand there! Eight o'clock it is! Tell Twilight that she and her friends can stay and gab as long as they like! Heheheh... I do know how much they love to do that."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Will a certain gentlecoltish dragon be showing up as well?"
"Ew, no..." I once made the mistake of showing up at one of Twilight's Sugarcube Corner get togethers. Somewhere in between topics of fashion, the local gossip, and official business for the Princess, I had fallen asleep. The only cool thing about it was that Rarity was there, and even then she hardly gave me the light of day. I don't blame her, really. If only Twilight would just give me that beard. Hmmm—Oh. Ms. Cake is staring at me. Uhm... "Girl's night out is hardly my thing!" I say. "I'd much rather sit around at the library and count my... uh... hoard."
"Oh? A dragon your age has a hoard?"
"Erm..." Yeesh. Why are my cheeks burning? Do dragons blush as much as they perspire? So many questions to ask Twilight, and she'll probably be too busy re-inventing the wheel. Ah well, I can deal. "It's just a small hoard. Mostly a bunch of bottlecaps."
"Bottlecaps? Heehee... How delightfully curious..."
"It started when Twilight and I lived in Canterlot." I feel myself smile. "You wouldn't believe how much the guards litter when they're off duty! Who knew armored pegasi could chug down that much sarasparilla?!"
"Ooooh! Now that you mention containers, that reminds me!"
Uh oh. She's ducking behind the counter. Ms. Cake is gonna ask me to run an errand, isn't she? Ugh, and here I thought I could go fishing in the pond outside Evergree. I swear, one of these days I should just say "no."
She reappears with several aluminum pans and stacks them atop the glass counter between us. "Since you're going out and about, could you be a dear and deliver these to Granny Smith at Sweet Apple Acres?"
Yup. Called it.
"We had a huge shipment of cherries arrive a week ago," Ms. Cake continues. "And the Apple family lent us several of their harvest baskets to store them. Just the other day, Applejack told me that her grandmother is planning on baking several apple pies, and I thought it was only fitting I paid her back for her favor!"
"Uhhhhh..." All I wanna do right now is cast a line into the pond water and take a nap under the afternoon sunset. "Sure thing, Ms. Cake! You need me to take all of these?"
"Erm, yes, dearie." Her blue face scrunches up, as if she's sorry for asking me, or trying to feel sorry about it. I see a brief reflection of pink in the nearest pan as I reach for them. "I know it's an awful lot to ask of you. But I'm absolutely nailed to the kitchen floor here with all these baking tasks and I don't know any other way to get these to Sweet Apple Acres—"
There is suddenly a bright, fluffy thing sliding up and bouncing beside me. "Oooh! Oooh! A delivery to Applejack?! Let me! Let me! Me me me me!"
"Gaaaah!" Jeez! I'm falling back. The pans are flying everywhere. With a whip of her fluffy tail, Pinkie Pie somehow catches all of them before they hit the floor. Holy guacamole, just where the heck did she come from? "Where the heck did you come from?"
"Whoops! Sorry, Spike!" Pinkie Pie giggles. She juggles the pans as if they're made out of her own laughter and balances them with crazy finesse on her forehead. Heheh. Show off. "I just heard that Ms. Cake needs a delivery made to Sweet Apple Acres and I was like 'Coolies! I can totally get that donesies!'"
"P-Pinkie!" Ms. Cake tries to hide the sweat running down her temple. She fails. Well, at least I notice. I'm not sure about Pinkie. "I thought you were off to the skating rink!"
"Nah, it burnt down." Pinkie turns towards me with her bright, childish grin. "Mind if I take over your little job for you? It's been ages since I've been to Sweet Apple Acres and I'd love to see how the whole family is doing!"
"Hey... Uhhh... Be my guest!" Whew. Score. Maybe I'll get to catch a big fish after all. Who ever said that Pinkie Pie was annoying? I know I didn't. "Think you can carry them all on your own?"
"Abso-dutely-lutely!" Pinkie spun them one at a time on her nose while winking. "I never met a pan I couldn't handle! Heehee! Get it?"
"Uhhh... Sure, Pinkie."
"Ooooh! You came here to set up the get together tonight, didn't you?"
"Yup. Twilight made me."
"Aren't you gonna come?! Huh?! Huh?! Applejack says she's bringing some of Granny Smith's delicious apple pies and then Twilight's gonna teach us all about Canterlot cooking recipes with these books she got from the Princess!"
"Er... Apple pie sounds wonderful, but I've had my fair share of Canterlot cooking." Ohhhhh, all those late nights of stomach aches and moaning. "Twilight used to make me oats casserole all the time." It tasted like cardboard. "It was okay. But... uhh... if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna sit this one out. I hope you girls totally have fun, though!"
"Awwwww. Tell you what, Spike, we'll save some apple pie just for you!"
"Hey, that sounds great, Pinkie! Thanks for being so considerate—"
"UhuhOkayGottaGoByeSpike!" All I see is a pink blur, for she's just zoomed off, leaving the bell above the door rattling like crazy.
"That's strange..." Ms. Pie says, scratching her brow beneath her mane. "Why's she in such a big hurry all of the sudden?"
I shrug. "Beats me." Boy, mares are so weird...