Vanillin proved to be one oxygen atom too many, but the other flavorings- and all the oils and fats, even the kerosene- turned out to be perfectly acceptable, with limitations.
The party, with comings and goings, ended up lasting for three days, partly because, after Tinat's second deep slurp of congealed fruit-mix coconut oil, he passed out asleep at the observation window. The dawn woke him the next day, to the sight of Pinkie Pie and a large, deep-blue native who introduced herself as Luna. After a brief conversation, Tinat had rigged a remote communicator to one of his probes and let her talk with the navigator back aboard the ship while Pinkie Pie got her friends back for the day.
This time going easy on the native food (the cinnamaldehyde was a familiar flavor, but most of the others were exotic bordering on the bizarre), he spent the entire day and well into the night conversing with Pinkie Pie and what were, apparently, her closest friends. The blue one asked questions about his ship until she got bored with what she called prespawn-head stuff. The purple one picked up where the blue one left off, digging into Konsoran science and comparing it to the "magic" the natives used.
The yellow one explained the function and habits of the various animals who lived around where the ship had landed, while Tinat described the motile life of his world. A newcomer, mostly orange, asked about raising foodstock, and Tinat described the thermal vent farms in his homeworld's lakes while asking about the sessile life the natives ate. A white one, with a horn on its head similar to the purple one, asked for a closer look at his laboratory cloak and then sketched out something that, so far as he could tell, would either make him intensely attractive or get him run off his home planet under sumptuary laws.
And before and after each, again and again, Pinkie Pie tried to make Tinat laugh. Her facial contortions had rather the opposite effect- those mouthparts, teeth, still frightened him terribly. The puns, of course, died in translation. And a lot of the other jokes depended on knowledge he just didn't have. But... every once in a while, Pinkie would stumble across something their cultures had in common (mostly embarrassment humor), and Tinat's resonator would thrum uncontrollably.
For her part, Pinkie laughed at almost all Tinat's jokes, even the puns. He knew she couldn't possibly understand most of them... but there was something about that bubbly sound, that popping resonance Tinat could just hear over the computer translated thrum, which made him feel better about himself.
And, of course, every moment of it was recorded, even while he was asleep.
He awoke again towards sunset of the third day, and Pinkie was still there, though the trees had been draped with banners saying, according to the computer, Thanks for coming- have a safe trip home. Larger containers of Pinkie's mixtures had been brought in "for the road," though the blue one cautioned him to not "eat and fly."
And there was one other newcomer- the largest one yet, almost entirely white, with head-tail fibers that glittered and moved and shifted like a stellar nebula. This, it turned out, was the native ruler, who had come to see the visitor for herself.
There was some brief diplomatic chat, with the captain joining in on the communicator, and while the captain declined to give the ruler the location of their homeworld- one good experience with natives didn't outweigh three disastrous ones- he did agree to provide a communicator in case Konsori ships visited the system again. In return she gave permission for several long-term robotic probes to land in particular points within her realm, so that science would continue even after Tinat left.
And then it was just him and Pinkie, the others having cleaned away the decorations and the food.
"Well, told ya I'd throw you a party," she said.
"Yes, I was wrong," Tinat admitted. "Though I wouldn't be surprised if your foods get outlawed by my people." He bent one leg to rub his belly ruefully. "I'm still a bit warm from it. Very strong."
Pinkie giggled. "Don't tell the older ponies!" she said. "They already think I corrupt their kiddies!"
Tinat sighed. "I won't get a chance to," he said. "I won't ever come back. You know this."
"I know," Pinkie nodded. "But we had fun while you were here, and that's what counts."
"Yes, well..." Tinat shuffled his feet. "You were very helpful. Thank you for everything." His claw-hands flexed unconsciously. "I don't know if my captain thinks you were helpful, though..."
"Eh, just give him some of the cinnamon olive oil," Pinkie grinned. "That'll wash the grumpy right out of him!"
"Excuse me," Tinat said, "I'm keeping that for myself. He can settle for the acetoin-laced kerosene."
The two of them shared one last laugh.
"Well, goodbye, Tinat," Pinkie said. "Hope you make more friends on the next world you visit!"
Tinat raised his forebody up to full elevation. "Only if they're friends like you. Goodbye."
His ship, of course, did not spew fire when it took off, and thus it was barely visible in the light of the hell-world's moon as it left its hilltop hiding place and took to the skies. Part of Tinat wished it made more of a show in flight, so the pink one and her friends on the ground could see him off.
Another part of Tinat wondered whether his final report could be phrased so as to save his career, or if the treasure trove of cultural data would be enough for that.
But the majority of him was trying to figure out how he could conceal the maximum amount of Pinkie Pie's concoctions from potential confiscation by the rest of the crew.
Pinkie Pie had said she would make treats he could digest.
And, if you set aside the hangovers, she had certainly succeeded.