//------------------------------// // Kryptonite // Story: Thweet Geniuth // by JMac //------------------------------//   Thweet Geniuth Chapter 16  Kryptonite          When the secret ingredient was announced all the fillies in the Challenger’s gallery groaned as one.  This was echoed by a groan at the back of Twist’s kitchen, from Apple Bloom and Bon Bon.  There was even a muted groan from the Grand Chef’s side of the Stadium, in the area where the two families from Ponyville were sitting.                  “Is something the matter?” asked Princess Luna.                  “It’s vanilla!” cried Sweetie Belle.  “Why did it have to be vanilla?”                  “Vanilla is Twist’s weakness, Princess,” explained Quiz.  “She has an instinctive talent with flavors that is almost indistinguishable from magic.  But not with vanilla.”                  “Oh, Twist can make magic with vanilla,” exclaimed Scootaloo.  “She can turn it into cement.”                  “I do not know how,” said Quiz, “But I cannot rid myself of the feeling that somehow this is my fault.” #                  Gotcha!, thought Merry.  You gave yourself away, and I got you.  This victory didn’t make her proud or happy, but at least it was a relief.  Merry hadn’t had any victories all day. #                  “I must admit, Oates, I’m disappointed with tonight’s secret ingredient,” said Grand Chef Éclair.  “I mastered vanilla when I was little Peppermint’s age.  I do not find this interesting.”                  “Do you think this might be a break for your young challenger, Grand Chef?”                  “Oh, I hope she thinks so,” sneered the Grand Chef.  “With such a simple common ingredient such as vanilla you cannot hope to win by merely being great.  You must be transcendent!  Can the child transform vanilla as if she had been working with it for decades?  I do not think so!”                  “Thank you, Grand Chef.” #                  Merry’s relief evaporated when she looked at Twist’s kitchen.  All of your friends are wringing their hooves in despair, she thought, Why are you grinning from ear to ear, Girl?                  Her reverie was broken by Scooter.  “Curtains wants you in the control booth, Merry.”                  “I’ll be right up.”  Merry had no idea why Curtains would send Scooter with the message instead of just calling her through her headset. #                  “Chef Peppermint, you don’t seem bothered by the secret ingredient.”                  “That’th not my name, Mithter Oates,” answered Twist, knowing full well that it would be blipped out.  She didn’t care.  “Oh, yeth, I’m looking forward to thith!  Vanilla uthed to give me fitths, I jutht didn’t get it.  It wath my… what do you call it, that thstuff that makes Thuper Thtallion weak in the comic books?”                  “Kryptonite?” “That’th it.  But I have a very dear friend who’th favorite flavor is vanilla, and it broke my heart that I couldn’t make anything for her.”  Twist stopped and gave a little wave to the camera.  “Hi, Quiz!  Hi, guyths!”                  That went out over all the stadium monitors, and Oates cringed.  Competitors were not supposed to do ‘shout outs’ and Merry would not be happy.  “So, Chef, you are saying vanilla doesn’t worry you?”                  “I think I’ve figured it out,” said Twist, nodding enthusiastically.  “There’ths a thecret to vanilla, and I think I finally know it.” #                  “Good grief, Oates, we’re letting the kid do shout outs now!” Merry yelled into her headset.  “As if the crowd didn’t already think she was adorable?!”  Before Oates could respond she arrived at the Coliseum’s control booth, and she took her headset off.  “What’s going on, Curtains?”                  The director pointed to the monitors that displayed the outside of the Coliseum.  “I wanted you to know about this before anyone else.”                  Confectionery Coliseum’s “Mighty Percher-tron” is the largest video display in all of Equestria.  Ponies often gather on the street to watch the cooking contests on the “Tron.”  The crowd gathering outside at that moment was the biggest Merry had ever seen.                  “Word is getting around,” said Curtains.  “Ponies have heard that a kid actually took round one from the Grand Chef, and they want to see ‘the little filly who could.’”                  “Celestia, take me,” gasped Merry.                  “They’re lining up at the box office, too.  And they aren’t happy about having to wait until the next intermission.  It doesn’t matter that we’re sold out except for the Challenger’s Gallery.  That’s where they all want to sit, anyway.”                  “Curtains, we have to hush this up!  Don’t you dare send any of this to the monitors inside!”                  “Come on, Merry, this could be the best show we ever do.  Where’s your sense of drama?  Can’t you just feel the story calling to you?”                  Curtains was right.  Merry was a producer at heart, and she lived for a good story.  Twist’s story was wonderful, and it broke Merry’s heart not to tell it.  But that didn’t make any difference.  Merry had a feeling that no matter what she did tonight she was going to end up with her heart broken.                  “We hide it, Curtains.  No pony sees any outside shots.  And close the box office, we can’t have all of Manehattan in here cheering Twist on.”                  Curtains glared at her, thoroughly disgusted.  “We might end up with that, anyway, Merry.”  He pointed to the monitor that showed the crowd inside.  After Twist’s interview at least two dozen ponies had moved to the Challenger’s Gallery, and more were on their hooves and crossing the stadium.                  “Curtains?”  Merry hesitated and drew a deep breath before giving her next order.  “Turn on the ‘Heat Hammer.’”                  “Isn’t that a little drastic, Merry?”                  “That’s drastic!” cried Merry, pointing to a monitor.  The crowd outside had grown during their short conversation.  “The Heat Hammer is just an appropriate response.  Do it, Curtains." #                  “So, Judges, what are your thoughts?” asked Smarty.                  “I agree with the Grand Chef,” said Almond.  “It does not seem likely that young Peppermint can do anything with vanilla that will impress us.”                  “How can you say that, when her first candy was so fabulous?” cried Happy.  “I believe out delightful little Chef Twist is capable of just anything!  The only way she could surprise me now is if she stopped surprising me!”                  “That doesn’t actually make sense, Happy.”                  “Are your sure, Smarty?  It made perfect sense in my head.”                  “Anyway,” said Doc.  “I find myself in disagreement with Almond.  There is a secret to vanilla, and from watching her work I get the impression that Peppermint knows what it is.”                  “Oh, goody, I love secrets!” cried Happy.  “What’s the secret, Doc?  Tell me, tell me!”                  “Very well, Happy.  The secret to vanilla is that it goes with almost everything, and makes almost everything better.”                  “I don’t know, Doc.  Peppermint’s only experience is working after school in a penny candy stand.  How many secrets could she have…”                  Smarty was interrupted by a huge ‘thud’ and a loud ‘clang.’  A frying pan had struck the judge’s table right in front of him.                  In Twist’s kitchen, Bon Bon held up her fore legs and mouthed the words, “Oops, butter hooves.”                  “Gee, now I want to visit Ponyville,” said Happy.  “I want to go to Bon Bon’s sweet shop.” #                  “Oates, can you tell what Peppermint is doing over there?” asked the Grand Chef.  “She has a pot on every one of her burners!  With that many ingredients I can’t imagine her producing anything but a grey mess.”                  “I think she means to add a different ingredient to each sweet, Grand Chef.”                  “Really?  She’ll struggle to plate on time.  I, on the other hoof, am very nearly done.”  He turned and screamed at his assistants, “We would already be plated if you two would hurry!”                  The assistants, already moving fast, hustled to obey their master.  The Grand Chef fluttered his wings in irritation.  Oates retreated a step to avoid getting a nose full of scarlet feathers.                  “I wonder if she knows the judges award points for proper time management?” the Grand Chef continued without any prompting from Oates.  “All little Peppermint has ready are her empty plates.  I note that she has five of them again.  I feel that is just showing off.  I do not need to resort to any such thing.  After all, I hold a Royal commission as pastry chef to the Court of Equestria.  The Royal Siblings may taste my wares any time they so desire.” #                  “Excuse me, Miss Quizzical?” asked Moonrise Ray.  “Are you the friend of Twist’s who likes vanilla?”                  “I am.”                  “You must be very proud.”                  Quiz stared at the foal, quite puzzled.  “Proud?  For liking vanilla?”                  Ray giggled.  “No, Ma’am.  For inspiring Chef Twist.”                  “Oh, I see.  Oh, dear me, I would hardly call myself an inspiration.”                  “Yeah, you wouldn’t, Quiz,” laughed Scootaloo.                  Sweetie Belle gave herself a double face hoof.                  Quiz continued, as if unaware of her friends.  “I am, however, very proud to be Twist’s friend.  I am very proud of all my friends, and I try very hard to be worthy of their friendship.”                  “That doesn’t sound right,” said Ray.  “You shouldn’t have to work that hard for your friends.  They should just like you.”                  Quiz pondered this.  “That is an interesting observation.  I must make a… no, wait, there is something about your point that sounds familiar…”                  “Gee, Quiz, you think?” snapped Sweetie Belle.  She sat back in her seat with a huff.                  “Have I said something wrong?  I did not…oh, dear.  Is Mr. Oates approaching us with his microphone?  And his camerapony?”  Quiz blanched.                  “Yes, Quizzical,” said Princess Luna.  “He sent an usher over earlier to ask permission for an interview, and We agreed.  You don’t mind…Quizzical?  Quizzical?” #                  “Oates, don’t interview the Princess,” whined Merry.  “She’ll just say something nice about Twist.”                  “Merry, she’s a Princess, we can’t just ignore her,” said Oates.  “Especially since this is only Princess Luna’s third public appearance since her return.” “We would look like idiots if we didn’t talk to her, Merry,” said Curtains.                  Merry sighed.  “Just keep it short, Oates.” #                  “Thank you, Princess Luna, for giving me a moment of your time.”                  “Not at all, Mr. Oates.  It is the least we could do.  We are enjoying this delightful contest very much.  Oh, gracious, is that Us?”                  Luna had discovered the monitors, and was staring into the nearest one with fascination.  “Oh, this is much fun!  But it is the side of Our face…”                  “We can move the camera, Princess Luna.”                  “Oh, good.  There We are now.  That was not Our best side,” Luna continued to mug for the camera.  She cocked her head and gave a world class eyelash flutter.  “Oh, yes, this is good fun!”                  Oates though that he had better get on with it before Luna began doing duck lips.  “Princess, do you think Peppermint including you in the tasting was a matter of courtesy, or was that mere showmanship on her part?”                  “What?  Oh, yes, you have questions,” Luna was uncertain whether to look at the camera or the microphone, and decided on staring at the mic.  The camera operator moved again to accommodate her.  “No, Twist is too sincere for showmanship.  That was just Twist being nice.  She is very generous.  If she had enough time Twist would make samples for everyone in the Coliseum.”                  “Which one of these girls is Chef Peppermint’s friend who likes vanilla?”                  “Um… well… she is…”                  Each filly answered at the same time.                  “In the restroom.”                  “Getting a drink.”                  “Home sick.”                 “Hiding under my seat.” This last was Ray, who luckily spoke too softly to be heard over the others.                  “…not here,” finished Luna.  She gave Oates the most obviously forced smile anypony in the stadium had ever seen.                  “Thank you, Princess Luna.  That’s all the time we have now.  May I come back with more questions during the final segment?”                  “Yes, certainly.  But first, please allow Us to take care of one thing.  That,” Luna pointed to the banner over the Challenger’s Kitchen, “That is not her name.”                  The banner glowed with a bright midnight blue aura, then the word “Peppermint” flared, and the letters disappeared.                  “Oh, that is so very much better!” exclaimed Luna.  “That had been really bothering Us all evening.  Her name is ‘Twist.’  Just ‘Twist.’” #                  “She can’t do that!” shrieked Merry.  “I mean, she can’t, can she?”                  “Well, yeah, unless you know somepony willing to tell the Princess not to,” said Curtains.  “I’d have to say that, yes, she can do that.”                  “That banner is Food Equestria property!”                  “You could send her a bill, Merry.  I’m pretty sure we know her address.”                  “Shut up, Smarty.” #                  “Mr. Oates and the camera have gone, Quizzical, it is safe to come out now.”                  “Are you certain?”                  “Yes, We are certain,” said Luna.  “We are also certain that We are not comfortable speaking to disembodied voices emanating from beneath the seating.  We are further certain that it makes young Miss Ray uneasy having you hiding under her seat.  Come out now, Quizzical.”                  “Yes, Princess.” #                  Twist was just dropping the last candy onto a plate when Smarty called, “Time’s up, Chefs!”                  “Wow, that wath clothe!” Twist could not remember ever working so hard.  “I think that might have been a little ambitiouth.  I don’t uthually have trouble with time management.”                  Bon Bon wiped Twist’s brow with a damp cloth.  “All these burners made it too hot in here, everything set more slowly than you expected, and it threw your timing off.  You did good, Twist.  I can’t tell you how proud of you I am.”                  “Wath I thweating?” This took Twist by surprise, she hadn’t notice.  “But I never feel the heat.”                  Bon Bon smiled at her.  “I think it’s understandable, Dearie.”                  Twist watched the stewards take her plates away for tasting.  She’d used covered plates this time.  She thought she had all her colors fixed, but there had been fading issues in the past.  Twist had seen her prettiest candies transformed into something unappetizing in the time it took to walk to the judge’s table.                  She used the covered plates because she was afraid to watch. #                  A steward set a tray of Twist’s candies on a stand next to Princess Luna.  It sat there, untouched, as the Princess and the fillies stared at it.                  “Princess, are you going to remove the lid?” asked Sweetie Belle.                  “That is Our plan, yes,” said Luna.  “In time.”                  “It’s just that we can’t see Twist’s candy until you lift the lid.”                  “She knows, Sweetie Belle,” said Quiz.  “That knowledge is precisely what is keeping the Princess from lifting the lid.”                  “Come on, just do it,” complained Scootaloo.  “Let’s have a look the latest atrocity Twist has committed against vanilla.  What?  Stop glaring at me!”                  Luna sighed.  “Scootaloo is correct.  We should not wait any longer.”  The plate cover glowed and rose into the air.                  There was a collective gasp from the ponies in the Challenger’s gallery.                  “Oh, my!” #                  “Oh, my!” exclaimed Happy.  She had just removed the cover from her sample of Twist’s candies.  “These are the prettiest candies I have ever seen!”