When Pinkie Pie got back to Sugarcube Corner, the storm was still going, but there was already a line of customers backed up through the door.
She hadn’t been fibbing to Concord; the busy part of the afternoon, what the Cakes called the “sugar rush,” had started a lot earlier than usual. In fact, it was also bigger than she had expected. Apparently there were plenty of ponies willing to brave the elements to get themselves a treat.
As soon as Pinkie squeezed around the crowd and got inside, Mrs. Cake grabbed her and pushed her behind the register. “Oh, thank goodness you're back, dearie!” the proprietor cried. “You just take care of these good folks up front and let me and the hubby get to work in the kitchen.” She disappeared into the back before Pinkie could respond.
The pink mare readied her best customer service smile and turned to the pony at the front of the line.
The smile was not returned. The orange pegasus dropped a paper box heavily on the counter. “It's about time,” she grumbled, flicking a dripping forelock from her eyes. “I'm here for a refund for my son’s birthday cake. The one you botched.”
“Oh no!...I’m so sorry about that, Mrs. Paisley!” Pinkie apologized. The bakery offered full refunds for unsatisfied customers, but ever since the ‘baked bads’ incident there’d only been one regular unsatisfied customer: Paisley. She’d always find something wrong with whatever Pinkie made, eat most of it anyway, and then come back to take advantage of the policy. It’d been going on for weeks.
“It's too bad how this keeps happening,” Pinkie opined as she popped the register’s drawer open with a cheery ding. “What was wrong with this one?”
Paisley turned up her nose. “You spelled my son’s name with an ‘I’. It’s A-R-G-Y-L-E!”
Pinkie opened the lid and checked. Just under half of a frosted apple-spice cake was left inside. Letters in yellow icing read:
HAP
BIRT
ARG
It was too bad Paisley always ate whatever part of the order would substantiate her complaints. Pinkie knew the customer was always right, but she was certain she’d got the lettering perfect this time!
As she counted out Paisley’s bits beneath the mare’s disapproving gaze, Pinkie chuckled in spite of herself. It just looked like it’d be fun to say, especially if she dragged out the last R.
“Habber-thargh!”
It was fun! Pinkie fell into a giggling fit.
The customer was not amused. “No wonder my orders keep getting messed up if this is how seriously you take your job. I’ve got half a mind to take my business elsewhere!” Paisley swept the bits off the counter and into her saddlebag.
“Oh, please don’t do that, Mrs. Paisley!” Pinkie pleaded. “The only other place in Ponyville is Baker Brothers, and they don’t give refunds ever!”
Several of the ponies in line snickered.
Paisley’s mouth silently opened and shut a few times, and her face grew as red as the curly design on her flanks. “Well I never!” she finally managed. “How dare you imply that I...that I would...I want to speak to your manager! Right now!”
The line of customers began to grow unruly.
“Hey lady,” said a large stallion behind her wearing a vest and hard hat. “Maybe you could table that until the rest of us get a chance to order, huh?” Several other ponies in the queue grumbled something to the same effect.
Paisley adopted a look of wounded dignity, took the box back and stepped out of line. “Fine, but believe me, I’m going to have words with the Cakes over this.” She sniffed and squeezed around the curling line to retrieve her umbrella saddle from a stand in the corner.
The stallion stepped up to the counter. “Ehh, don't worry about her none,” he said. “You guys are the only game in town now after that fire.”
“A fire?” Pinkie squeaked. “Oh no! What happened? Was anypony hurt?”
He shook his stubbly head. “Nah, I think they all got out okay, but Barnyard Bargains got gutted and Baker Brothers is missing a wall an’ most of its roof.”
“That’s terrible!”
The stallion shrugged. “Coulda been worse. We’re just lucky it started in the middle of this rainstorm. Otherwise it might have spread all over the place. Anyway, it’s a windfall for you and the Cakes, right? That’s why there’s so many ponies here today.”
“Hey!” Called a grouchy voice from further back in the line, “Is this a bakery or a garden party? What’s the hold up?”
“Hey yourself!” the stallion called back over his shoulder, “This lady is expressin’ her concern over your neighbors. I can’t just not to tell her what’s going on!”
“Maybe you can tell her about how I caught pneumonia while you were yakking!” called another voice from just outside the door.
“Good grief, how come ponies are so rude nowadays?” The stallion grumbled, stepping away from the line and craning his neck to try and see who had said that.
A hesitant-looking yellow mare slipped around him and placed her front hooves against the counter. “Ahm... I’d like a couple of tarts, please. One blueberry and, er, one peach?”
Pinkie was relieved that the line was finally moving again. “Sure thing, Junebug! Comin’ right up!”
No sooner had she ducked behind the counter than the voice of the big stallion stopped her.
“Whoah! Whaddya think you’re doing? You can’t serve her first; she cut in line!”
Junebug shrank back. “Um, but you were talking to somepony outside and I just thought that—”
“What in Tartarus is wrong with the ponies in this town?!” the stallion bellowed, and shoved Junebug back behind him.
A pale yellow stallion stepped out of line and moved menacingly toward the angry construction worker. “Tenpenny, you big bully! You can’t do that to Junebug!” he shouted. Several others growled assent.
Pinkie waved her hooves to try and get the crowd’s attention. “Everypony, please! Sugarcube Corner is supposed to be a place where we all come to relax, have fun and eat stuff! Don’t get all sore just because of a little rain and a little wait and a teensy little misunderstanding!”
The customers ignored her.
She ducked behind the counter again, and then suddenly appeared between Tenpenny and the pony who’d broken from the line to accost him.
“Everypony COOL IT!” she hollered, glaring at one belligerent party (her least favorite kind) and then the other. Without looking, she tossed a bag containing Junebug’s order to the yellow mare. Junebug managed to catch it, but stumbled into the line of impatient customers in the process. Another ripple of annoyance expanded through the crowd.
Everypony did not cool it. Not only did the stallions continue to stare daggers at each other over her head, the other ponies in line grew even more irate at seeing the cashier abandon her post. Some gave up and tried to leave, and others, seeing the promise of getting out of the rain, tried to push their way inside. Each group blocked the other at the door and began loudly demanding the right of way.
“Pinkie, how’s it going out there?” Carrot Cake called from the back.
“I think I could use just a little bit of help,” Pinkie yelled back, trying to push Tenpenny and another stallion apart between herself.
“Okay, we’ll be out in a jiffy! Just let me get this—”
There was a thunderous clatter from the kitchen, and then a series of splats.
“Oh dear.”
“It’ll be a few minutes, dearie,” Mrs. Cake called. “Hold down the fort!”
Pinkie gulped.
“You’re bothering this pony here,” Tenpenny growled to the other stallion, pointing at Pinkie.
“Oh, so now you care about treating mares with respect?” the other said. “Then apologize to Junebug!”
“No! She oughtta apologize to everypony in here for breaking in line!”
Junebug was still at the counter, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the arguing stallions. “Ah...it’s okay Cosmic, really! Just ring me up and I’ll be on my way, Pinkie.”
“Yes, let’s let Pinkie get back to work,” said Cosmic. “Care to take this outside?”
“What, and lose my place? You wanna have it out, we can settle things right here. Won’t take but a second.”
“Guys, stop it! No brawling in the store!” Pinkie insisted.
In unison, both stallions pushed her aside. They hadn’t planned to both shove her at once, and their combined force sent the pink mare flying backward to strike the store’s countertop with the back of her skull. Stars burst across Pinkie’s vision as she slid to the floor, and then she felt a familiar sensation; a ticklish feeling that started at the tip of her nose and rolled down to the end of her tail.
The noise of the crowd suddenly ceased. For a second, Pinkie was afraid the blow had rendered her deaf. She rubbed her eyes until the stars went away and looked around. Every pony in the store was blinking and swaying unsteadily as if they’d all just awoken on their feet.
The two stallions looked down on her, guilty and concerned.
“I’m...we’re really sorry, miss. I don’t know what...you aren’t hurt, are you?” Tenpenny asked, offering her a hoof up.
“Oh my gosh, Pinkie! I wasn’t, I mean, I didn’t mean to...oh gosh!” Cosmic babbled, hovering over her nervously.
There was another commotion at the door. “Get away from her, both of you!” Concord yelled as he burst through the groggy crowd. He slid to a stop kneeling before Pinkie. “I stopped ’em soon’s I could. Did these two hurt you? I swear, Pinkie, if they did, I won’t give them a moment’s rest, not ever again!”
Pinkie shook her head to try and get her ears to stop ringing. “What? Concord, what are you talking about? They stopped themselves.” She rubbed the knot forming beneath her mane. “Oog...sure wish they’d done it a teeny bit earlier, though.”
“You did hurt her!” Concord growled, rounding on Cosmic and Tenpenny, who backed away from the furious stranger. Concord snorted and glared at the pair. “Lookit you, all hale and hearty while she’s lying there in agony!”
“I just got a little bump by accident, no biggie,” Pinkie said.
“Brutes who harm somepony like Pinkie don’t just get to walk away.” Concord’s voice had taken on a hard edge Pinkie hadn’t heard before. One of the ears flattened against his skull slowly lengthened and changed from gray to tawny brown, like a donkey’s.
The tickly feeling rolled through Pinkie again, but this time it stayed and grew more intense. Tenpenny and Cosmic’s demeanor altered before her eyes. Shaking like a leaf, the yellow stallion curled himself tightly into a ball on the floor, put his hooves over his head and moaned. Tenpenny remained standing, but he instantly broke out in a cold sweat and began hyperventilating. His eyes darted fearfully about the room.
The rest of the ponies stood placidly in line, completely ignoring the two stallions freaking out right next to them.
Pinkie clambered to her feet, not quite believing what she was seeing. “Concord...are you doing magic at them? Aren’t you an earth pony?”
“Magic? Nah,” he replied, still watching Tenpenny and Cosmic squirm, “I just don’t think they should have any more peace, if they’re going to be like that.”
Pinkie prodded Cosmic with a hoof. He flinched and yelped. “Whatever you did to them, un-do it! Or stop doing it, or...just cut it out!”
Concord looked back at her, surprised. “But they—”
“You’re being all scary and weird and I don’t like it!”
“O-of course!” Concord blurted. The tickly feeling vanished and the two stallions came out of their terrified stupor. They both backed their way to the door, pushed through the now-pliant crowd and fled into the street. Concord's donkey-ear returned to its original size and hue.
Desperate to salvage his standing in Pinkie’s eyes, the gray stallion pulled one of the customers out of the line. The unicorn he snagged seemed startled but otherwise unperturbed at being grabbed by a stranger. “This is good, though, right?” he asked, smiling ingratiatingly at Pinkie. “They were stressed and impatient before, but just look at ’em now! They’re all calm and orderly as ponies can be. That was me!”
Pinkie gave him an incredulous look.
“Tell her,” Concord said, shaking the pony he’d grabbed. “You don’t mind the wait now, right?”
The pony, a russet mare, blinked dreamily. “I feel like... like I could just wait here forever. It’s so awesome just being here... in the universe and everything.” She smiled at Pinkie. “All the stuff at Sugarcube Corner is so good. It’s totally worth it.”
Concord pushed her back into line. “Neat, huh? Just doin’ what I can to help out a special friend.” He winked.
Pinkie looked him in the eye with the best serious, no-nosense stare she could manage. “Concord, friends don’t pretend to be something they aren’t, because they trust each other. What are you?”
He looked away and scratched behind his ear guiltily. “I’m... a pony!”
She crossed her forelegs and stuck out her lower lip.
“I am a pony... right now,” he insisted.
“Nuh-uh,” she said, waving to the queue of preternaturally patient patrons. “The only sort of creature I’ve ever seen that can just take a bunch of ponies and scramble their brains, no magic or anything is Discord. He could change into anything too. Are you a dracon- a dragonic- ...a freaky evil chaos spirit-thing?”
“A spirit of chaos wouldn’t go ’round calming folks and making your life easier, now would he?” Concord reasoned.
Pinkie knitted her brows. “So what kind of spirit are you then, huh?”
The stallion sighed. “A good one,” he admitted. “But I’m really a pony too! Your friend Twilight made me one!”
She stared at Concord for a long moment, trying to think of what to do. So Twilight had succeeded in bringing a spirit bodily into the world; a spirit with a schoolfilly crush on Pinkie coupled with terrifying mind-altering powers. He’d driven Cosmic and that other rowdy stallion nearly insane with fear simply because they mistreated her.
She glanced at the line of customers. They still stared off into space, too relaxed and peaceful to be able to object to waiting, or being rained on, or anything at all, really. Couldn’t Concord do something like that to make her just as unable to reject his clumsy advances? Pinkie Pie shivered. She’d have to be extra careful about this.
The pink mare shrugged and looked sympathetically at the stallion. “Gee, Concord, I want to believe you, but I don’t really know anything about spirits. What if you’re a bad one just pretending to be a good one? Then you’d lie, right? I can’t just go by your say-so; it wouldn’t be smart. You understand, right?” She tilted her head and twisted the perpetual curl at the tip of her mane around a forehoof.
“Well, yeah, but—”
“Oh, don’t worry! I know just what we can do to fix everything! See, Twilight knows everything about most things, so we can just go over to her and she can figure out whether you’re the real deal or not.” She tilted her head the other way and batted her eyes innocently. “That wouldn’t be any trouble for a real good spirit of harmony, right?”
“No...” Concord allowed, feeling hope stir again within him. It was working! Pinkie had only been reluctant before because she thought he might have been a bad guy, why else? But once her friend could vouch that he was obviously just what he claimed, and she would, one way or another, then...
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” He skipped toward the door.
Pinkie stepped on his tail. “Hold on a sec, Zippy McExuberant-Pants! Verity’s a spirit too, isn’t she?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, you have to bring her too or it’s no good. Oh! And I have a special favor to ask.”
He made a jerky little bow, barely containing his excitement. “Name it an’ it’s done!”
She leaned close. “We’re going to play a little game. You say you’re a pony, so now you have to act like it! You have to promise me you won’t use any more of your spirit powers like this,” she indicated the ponies in line, “until I say it’s okay. Okay?”
Concord nodded.
“Pinkie swear on it!”
“Do what now?”
She explained, and he recited after her with gusto, nearly blinding himself in one eye. Seconds later, Concord galloped out the door. The last scraps of the day’s storm were just petering out, and the afternoon sun peeked through the clouds.
Pinkie stuck her head out after him. “Remember, no spirit stuff! I’ll see you and Verity at the library!”
“It’s a date!” he called back.
As he vanished around a corner, Pinkie’s smile faded into a grimace, and then a sigh. She’d better get over to Twilight fast and warn her. Twilight’s magic had brought Concord here, so it stood to reason that she could zap him away again if worst came to worst.
Pinkie left right then, figuring the Cakes could take care of the uber-pacific ponies Concord had left in his wake. She broke into a canter, and then a gallop, making for the town’s library.
She failed to notice an unfamiliar scowling pegasus who took off from the roof of Sugarcube Corner and glided after her, muttering darkly under her breath.