Day seven in Equestria.
This land is fucking freaky as all hell, as you quickly found. Tons of sapient races, magic, common senseless inhabitants, cartoony antics, and all sorts of weird things. You have a feeling that if you really wanted to, you could probably quickly take the whole place over just by utilizing common sense.
But you didn’t really care enough. And besides, you just got there. Gotta give plans of world conquest some time.
Anyway, you just woke up after a bad night of sleep. You were having your perfectly normal and insane human dreams, when suddenly some big blue horse showed up. It didn’t take her long to start screaming, presumably in horror.
Needless to say, that made your dreams worse. But worse was still fairly normal, for you. And it makes sense that you’d be dreaming about a blue horse, given your new environment.
But when you wake up, you quickly realize that today’s gonna be another one of those days. Twilight’s standing over your bed, one of those strange smiles on her face. That’s happened just about every time you woke up in her house so far.
“Anon, how do you feel about foalsitting?”
“If I ever had kids, I’d be all for someone else watching them for me,” you answer, stretching and yawning.
“Because a good way for everypony to accept you is for you to be seen taking care of some foals!”
“Well, it’s a good thing there are plenty of other ways for them to accept me. What’s for breakfast?”
Twilight levitates a jingly bag over to you. “Whatever you and the girls want. They’re waiting for you downstairs.”
“I’m sorry, but what part of any of what I said made you think that I wanted to deal with some brats today?”
“The breakfast part,” she curtly answers, the smile disappearing. “You want to eat, you’ll have to deal with the Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
“...Are you pawning your chores off on me?”
“No, of course not!”
You lift an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes.
“This isn’t a chore, Anon. Ponies get paid for chores. This is just a favor.”
“So you’re saying that you told one of your friends that you’d do something, but decided you didn’t want to, and now I have to?”
“That isn’t the sound of you watching the girls, Anon.”
“Well yeah, because I don’t want to.”
She snorts. “You can’t always get what you want.” Her horn lights up and your blanket disappears. “Now no more talking back or I’ll replace your bed with bees.”
“After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”
“You know, I could use some fresh honey…” You sigh and get out of bed. Twilight smiles and nods. “Now hurry up and get ready. I don’t want to leave them near my books for any longer than I have to…”
You sigh and do so as she walks back down the stairs. You’re tempted to take a long shower and say that it’s a human thing, but you know Twilight would find a way to make you suffer later. God, she might even sic Pinkie on you…
About fifteen minutes later, you find yourself downstairs, staring at three bundles of terror. “Anonymous, these are the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Twilight says, waving a hoof at the three midget horses, each of which is staring up at you in wonder. “Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo.”
“So tall…” the white one whispers.
“So weird…” the yellow one says.
“So cool!” the orange one yells.
Well, isn’t this going to be fun.
“So what am I going to be doing with them, again?” you ask Twilight.
“Watch them for the day,” she says. “Just… not here. After all, you need to be seen around town more!” Oh yeah, good excuse, Twilight.
Every time she opens her mouth, it makes you worry more about those little kids. And the way they’re looking at you doesn’t make you feel much better. But since you really don’t have a choice, you just sigh.
“Alright, whatever. So where do you kids want to eat?”
“We’re not goats!” Sweetie Belle indignantly says.
“What do you have against goats?” you ask.
“Well… we’re not them!”
“You seem pretty quick to get offended when I said that. Are you hiding some kinda goat racism?”
Twilight sighs and says, “Anon, stop it. Sweetie Belle, there’s nothing wrong with goats. Now out, all of you!”
Sweetie mutters, “Not goats…” as you lead the three of them out into the town.
“So what are we gonna do today, Anon?” Scootaloo asks as the four of you aimlessly wander.
“Eat, first,” you answer. “Then I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Namely, finding a way to get rid of the three of them. “So what is there to eat in this town?”
“Sugarcube Corner!” Sweetie Belle shouts.
Ugh, and risk dealing with Pinkie? No thanks.
“You’ll rot your teeth out, kid.”
“I’m not a goat!” she shouts, drawing the attention of the townspeople to her. Most of them roll their eyes and just go back to doing whatever ponies do. What is it with that girl and shouting, anyway?
“Anything else?” you ask, ignoring her.
“What do you have against Sugarcube Corner?” Applebloom asks.
“Humans can’t eat that much sugar without getting sick. I don’t want to hit that limit on my first meal of the day.”
“There’s plenty of stuff there that isn’t too sweet!” Scootaloo says. “Why can’t we just go to Sugarcube Corner?”
“Well, I’m the one with the money,” you say. “And I don’t particularly want to. Surely there’s something else here.”
You hear the sound of three flanks hitting the dirt, something you never would have known if not for being in horseland. When you turn to look, all three of the girls are sitting on the ground, steadfastly not moving. “We wanna go to Sugarcube Corner!” they all say at once.
“Fine. Jesus, if you were just gonna be babies about it, you shoulda said.” After all, you knew better than to risk creating a scene. You don’t need all the ponies in town to know you made three fillies cry, even if those fillies were insufferable and apparently not liked by too many people.
The scowls and frowns all disappear, replaced by beaming smiles. “Yay!” they all shout again, jumping back up and trotting off. You just sigh and follow them, not knowing the way well enough yet to do anything else.
As they walk, you hear them talking about what they’re planning on getting. All you’re planning on doing is avoiding the Pink Menace that lingers within its profane walls.
Thankfully—or sadly; it’s hard to tell—their strides are very short, so you’re able to just slowly amble along to keep up with their trotting speed. Good thing you’re not a dangerous predator, or there would be no foal safe from your long legs and wide reach.
Despite their slow speed, Ponyville is a small town. It takes your small group less than five minutes to reach the vaunted Sugarcube Corner. The girls wait for you to open the door and enter first, then burst through behind you, immediately sprinting to the counter. You follow at a more apathetic pace, knowing the one you dread lies within somewhere, waiting for a chance to make you suffer.
“How can I help you three?” the fellow behind the counter asks, smiling at the fillies. Mr. Cake, you believe is his name.
“Do you have any Mareia Luisa cake made?!” Applebloom excitedly asks. You quietly snort, hearing the apple horse asking for something made with oranges.
“Sure do! What about you two?”
“Can I have the cake whose name Rarity won’t let me say?” Sweetie Belle asks.
“One better than sex cake coming up!” If ever there was a child molester in the making… “What about you, Scootaloo?”
“Blueberry jamboree, please!” she happily says.
“Of course. And you… Anonymous, right?” he asks, looking up at you.
“...Don’t suppose you know what bacon is?” you hopefully ask, though you already know the answer.
“I’m afraid not, sorry. If you’d like to show us how to make it, though, we could give you a discount in the future!”
Gonna have to remember that. “Pass. What about pancakes?”
“Now those we can do. Want anything special on ‘em?”
“Syrup, if you got it. Nothin’ else.”
“...Really? No powdered sugar? Fruit? Chocolate chips? Whipped cream? Honey? Cinnamon? Custard? Caramel? Butter? Ice cream? Nuts?”
You’re tempted to let him keep listing things just to see how many he can, but you quickly shake your head. “Syrup’s fine, thank you. Humans… can’t eat that much sugar.”
He blinks, then nods. “That makes sense. Well, that’ll all be ten bits.” Man, the economy here is weird as fuck. You shrug and hand over ten of the gold coins from the bag Twilight gave you. “Alright, it’ll all be out in a few minutes. Just have a seat anywhere!”
You nod and head over to the first table you see, practically falling into the booth. You and waking up too early didn’t mix, and Twilight definitely made sure to wake you up too early. The girls quickly crowd around, taking up the other side of the bench. When you look up, you find that they’re all staring at you.
Before you can ask what they want, Sweetie Belle asks, “So what’s your cutie mark, Anon?”
“I don’t have one, kid.”
“I’m not a—You don’t have a cutie mark?!”
They all seem overly excited about that. “You wanna try to get yours with us?” Scootaloo asks.
You blink a few times, confused. “What makes you think I can get a cutie mark?”
“Well, all ponies can!” Applebloom says.
“Yeah. All ponies. And only ponies. Spike said that dragons don’t get them.” They blink. “And I’ve seen a ton of cows here, none of which had a cutie mark.” They blink a few more times. “And none of the donkeys I saw did, either. Or the pigs. And according to the books I read, none of the griffins, changelings, diamond dogs, minotaurs and literally every other race that exists have them. Why would you assume that I would get one?”
“...Oh. Yeah, I guess that was kinda silly,” Sweetie Belle says, blushing and giving a sheepish smile.
More stupid than silly, but everything you’ve seen so far paints these three as being on the lower end of the IQ spectrum, so it’s to be expected. After all, who else but an idiot would need to ask if an unknown race has a cutie mark in a world where only a single race out of dozens has them?
Before you have to suffer through more of their inanities, something else to suffer through shows up: Pinkie motherfucking Pie, with a tray on her back and a massive smile adorning her face. “Hey everypony and Anon!”
“Hey Pinkie!” the three girls yell back, happy to see their ‘food’ ready and on the way. You don’t reply, of course. No need to encourage her, after all.
“So Anon, are you over your party allergy?” Pinkie excitedly asks.
“Afraid not.” What better way to avoid a party than tell someone that parties are lethal to you?
“Aww… But at least you aren’t allergic to pancakes!” she says, somehow moving the tray from her back to the table. The girls all snatch their chosen desserts away, leaving just a plate of dull, colorless pancakes. “Even though they’re so boring…”
You pull the plate over to you with a shrug. “I’m a boring person. Sorry to let you down.”
“Nopony’s boring! I know you have something interesting about you, Anon!”
“That’s nice.” Thankfully, Pinkie brought you a fork, so you grab it and start cutting into the soft delicacies.
“Ooh, I know! How about you tell me about human parties?”
What part of anything about you makes her think you ever went to a human party?
“If I tell you something, will you go away?” you hopefully ask. She happily nods. “Alright, we got things called piñatas. It’s something full of candy that you tie up and then hang over a tree branch so you can easily reach it. Then you put a blindfold on someone, spin them around a few times, give them a stick, and have them hit the piñata until all the candy falls out.”
“That sounds really fun! Do you think you could make me one?”
“Nope.”
“Aww… Well, it shouldn’t be that hard… I’ll get right on it!” The pink horse grabs the tray and runs off, giggling.
“If Pinkie makes one, can you show us how to use it?” Sweetie Belle asks.
“Stop trying to give me diabetes, kid.”
“I’m not a goat!”
The way she’s eating that cake makes you think otherwise, but you leave that unsaid. After all, you don’t want Rarity to whine at you for calling what’s probably her sister fat.
Anyway, the three of them excitedly talk about that while you eat, taking your time so you can think about something to do to get away from the kids to preserve your sanity. Applebloom eventually asks, “So Anon, do you have any ideas about how we can get our cutie marks?”
“Not really. Why would you even want one of those things, anyway?”
“Because it tells us what we’ll do in life!” Scootaloo says. “Everypony needs one!”
Since you’re bored and you want to see how gullible these kids are, you ask, “Yeah, but don’t they… change you?”
“What do you mean?” Applebloom asks.
“You know, your insides. Don’t they change that? Like, all Applejack has inside of her is apple juice, because her cutie mark is apples. All Twilight has inside her is magic. Pinkie’s just made of helium, which is why her voice is so high and she defies physics.”
“...Are you sure?” Sweetie Belle asks.
“Sure as sure, kid.”
“I’m not a goat!”
“Sure you aren’t. Why, I bet Rainbow Dash is full of lightning.”
“No wonder she’s so fast!” Scootaloo says, her voice somewhat awestruck.
“Yep. Magic sure is a hell of a drug, after all.”
“What’s… hell?” Applebloom asks.
“Not important!” Sweetie Belle suddenly shouts. “Girls, I have an awesome idea for our cutie mark now!”
“What is it?” the other two ask, both looking at her with excitement on their faces.
“Come on, I’ll tell you on the way!” They all three jump off the bench, then start galloping off. Before they get to the door, though, Sweetie stops and says, “Thanks for breakfast, Anon!”
“No problem, kid.”
“I’m not a… ugh, come on, girls!” They continue running off as you go back to eating.
When you finish, you eye what they left behind. Namely, nothing. You have no clue how the three of them ate that quickly, but you also don’t really care. You just shrug and go on outside, happy that you rid yourself of the little ones.
Since Twilight probably wouldn’t be happy if you come back without them, you instead choose to wander about the town, trying to figure out something to do. In your wanderings, you find yourself at the park.
When you turn a corner to a more secluded part of the park, you see something strange.
A cream-colored mare with pink and blue hair is hanging from a tree by a rope, a cutie mark of three pieces of candy on her flank. She was gagged and seemed to be struggling to free herself from the trap.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are holding a rope and Applebloom is spinning, a stick in one hoof and a blindfold around her eyes. When she stops, all three shout, “Cutie Mark Crusader piñata whackers, yay!” Then Applebloom starts swinging wildly, completely missing every time.
You just shake your head as you walk away. “Man, ponies have really weird customs. Ah well.”