This is not a story of beginnings, but a tale of the end. The end of a talking muffin who wanted to die. It’s a simple story, a story so simple it will be finished in no more than five hundred and fifty words.
The muffin walked through the town of Ponyville, having appeared in the Equestrian universe just moments after everyone in town had eaten a large, satisfying breakfast. He meandered, offering to be eaten as he wanted to die. Is that so wrong? Is that not food’s purpose? The muffin couldn’t understand why nopony would take him. Surely with their cartoon stomachs, they could expand their outlines a bit more to fit him. But it was not to be.
Turned down, was he, by Twilight Sparkle. She said, “No thanks, Mr. Muffin.” And then the muffin said, “But I want to die!” It was so creepy and awkward that they sent him out of the home without a single word thereafter. The muffin stood on the doormat with the brave little smile of his and marched forward.
Denied, was he, by the lovely Ms. Rarity and her sister Sweetie Belle. “I had just finished breakfast, but perhaps I could refrigerate you for later?” No, the muffin wanted to die now. So he left. He was also very impatient.
Turned away, was he, by Applejack, for he was not a muffin with apple flavoring. And, frankly, Mr. Muffin didn’t like apples. Every apple he had met had been rotten to the core.
Rejected, was he, by Pinkie Pie herself. Something about having a feeling, she said. Mr. Muffin had a feeling, that this morning was not going to be a good morning. He was starting to feel defeated.
Considered and then forbidden, was he, to enter the sweet sanctuary of Rainbow Dash’s mouth. According to her concise reasoning, muffins did not go well with morning training. Yes, sitting on a cloud for hours on end required much effort, the muffin noted.
Carefully considered and then passed, was he, by Fluttershy. She did not think it was fair if she had a muffin but none of her animal friends did. Mr. Muffin offered to split himself up, but the pony fainted at the very thought and a small white rabbit kicked him out.
Mr. Muffin soon realized that if he could not be consumed by a mouth, he would have to be consumed by nature. He stood at the edge of the small river. It wasn’t the way he wanted to go, but it was definitely a way. Maybe some fish could take use of him.
As he was going to step in, heaven from above called. A grey pegasus with a blond mane swooped down. “I’ll eat you,” she said happily. “I didn’t get a chance to see you this morning because I was delivering mail!” Mr. Muffin was elated. She held out her hoof and he gladly jumped on.
And suddenly, glorious moments! Every bite into his muffin head was absolute ecstasy! He had finally reached his purpose! She gnawed, masticated, munched, chewed the living muffin out of that muffin. And finally, Mr. Muffin had died.
“Meh, I’ve had better,” she said, shrugging her mail bag and returning to work.