Pound could only stare. He'd gotten up early to help Pinkie make the brownies, but she was already awake, dancing around the kitchen in a flour-dusted apron and yet another set of brightly-colored clothes, and she had already made a few batches. She waved hello with her tail and pulled another tray out of the oven.
They smelled delicious. Pound found himself drawn to one tray in particular. He picked one up and put it into his mouth.
He nearly collapsed in a whimpering heap of pleasure. This was the best thing he had ever eaten. Nothing mattered anymore; he could die happy for having eaten just one of these little slices of heaven.
“Good, huh?” Pinkie grinned.
Pound could only moan his agreement and nod weakly.
“Good!” Pinkie grinned. “Because we've got plenty of them to make and plenty to sell.”
“Do mom and dad know you're doing this?” Pound asked.
Pinkie nodded. “Yep.”
Pound looked at the empty sacks of flour and sugar and empty tins of cocoa piled up in the corner, and his eyebrow raised. This was a ton of supplies they probably couldn't afford to waste. “And they were ok with it?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Pinkie said.
Pound raised an eyebrow. “That means…?”
“They came in, saw what I was doing, looked at each other, looked back at me, said, 'Typical Pinkie', and then left me alone.”
Pound nodded. He hadn't known Pinkie for very long, but already that seemed to be a fitting response for her.
“Wanna help me with the next batch?” Pinkie asked. Pound nodded and washed his hands and joined in.
He began mixing and stirring, making sure to get the ingredients just moistened to not make it too tough, when something hit him in the face. He looked up, surprised, and wiped it off. It was white. It was powdery. It was flour.
Pinkie had thrown flour on him.
He looked over and saw her leaning against the counter, body quivering with silent laughter. Never one to let a challenge go, he scooped up some cocoa.
“Hey, Pinkie!” he called.
She turned, and he nailed her in the face. She blinked a few times, and then then a devious smile spread across her face as she scooped up some flour for a second throw. Pound was ready this time; he raised a wing and shielded his face, and he grabbed some flour and threw. Before long, flour flew back and forth, both ponies giggling and laughing. Pound couldn't remember the la
“What's going on in h- pff!”
Startled at the intrusion, Pinkie had flung her next shot of flour at the sound, and now both Pinkie and Pound stared in horror at Cup Cake, now looking paler than she had in a while.
Pinkie giggled sheepishly. “Oopsie?” she tried.
Cup opened her mouth, closed it again, opened it again, closed it again, then shook her head and left.
Pinkie tapped her fingers together. “Maaaybe we’ve had enough fun for now,” she suggested.
* * *
Pound scratched the back of his neck under the candy-striped hat. When he said he would do anything to avenge Pumpkin, this isn't quite what he'd had in mind.
He looked down at the tray of brownies he carried. They almost took the attention away from the dorky little bow tie and candy-striped vest he was also wearing. “And you're sure this is what they wore?” Pound asked to confirm.
Pinkie, who was attired similarly, nodded. For some reason, she actually made it look good. “Yep! This is what the brothers wore while peddling their wares. It seemed to work well both times!”
Pound frowned, but Pinkie was already skipping out the door.
She stopped short, and Pound nearly ran into her. “Oh, right. They also sang.” She turned to Pound. “Want to start us off?”
“Me?!” Pound protested. “No! Pumpkin's the singer, not me!”
Pinkie gave him a disapproving look. “Pound, there is music in everypony. Just try.”
Pound whimpered, but there was a pretty mare counting on him. He stepped forward to the edge of the fence and started.
“We have brownies, and they're good…” Pound winced as his voice cracked slightly. “And you should try them, because… you should… and-”
“Nope. You were right. You're pitiful.” Pinkie pushed him aside, cleared her throat, and began to sing herself. Pound could swear that he could hear a piano playing a little musical accompaniment from somewhere unseen as she sang.
“Oh, ponies here in Ponyville, direct your eyes this way
For I've returned and I bear gifts that'll really make your day.
See, I have heard of all your troubles and I've got just the thing
To give your eyes a sparkle and give your hooves back their spriiing!”
She emphasized this last line by jumping up on the fence and bouncing off, holding her jumping pose as she gracefully descended, scissoring her legs as she floated slowly to the ground.
Pound stared. How had she done that? And without wings, too! He looked around. Ponies were staring with everything from annoyance to mild interest. Only one or two looked truly fearful. Maybe Pinkie's reputation had preceded her.
Pinkie, oblivious to all of this, continued singing as she pranced down the street, spinning and holding the platter above her head. The music came louder and faster now.
“Because I've got brownies!”
“Brownies!”
Pound jumped. Who had sang that back? It almost sounded like a little choir.
“Yes, I've got brownies!”
“Brownies!” the returning call came again.
“They're little, brown, and chocolatey; they'll turn you happy just like me! They're brownies!”
“Brownies!”
“Delicious brownies!”
“Brownies!”
“They're small, tasty, sugary! And they're my gift to you from me!”
Pound blinked. Who was playing this music? And why was everypony starting to move in time with the beat?
Pinkie continued her dance around the square.
“Now I know that there are lots of you who view me with distaste
But I solem-nen-ly beg of you to not judge me in haste.
Yes, I went mad; but now I'm glad! And here's my offering
To show you that I'm whole again and these are just the thing for they are brownies!”
Pound jumped as the ponies around him called back. “Brownies!”
“Delicious brownies!”
“Brownies!”
“They're tasty as tasty can be; and best of all, your first is free!”
The music held that note as Pinkie held the platter out to the three flower ponies, bowing dramatically.
“Free?” they asked in unison.
“Free!” Pinkie confirmed.
The music stopped. Lily, Roseluck, and Daisy looked at each other, and then back at the brownies. Silence reigned in the square. Curiosity eventually overcame apprehension, and Roseluck took one and slowly placed it in her mouth.
Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow,” she said.
Daisy and Lily took this as an invitation and picked up their own.
“Whoa.”
“That's delicious!”
Pinkie held the platter out to the next pony, an orange mare of the Apple family. She looked at Pinkie and at the plate a few times, and Pound got the impression they knew each other. The apple mare took one and bit it.
A wide smile spread across her face. “Well, Ah'll be,” she said. “This is the best thing Ah've eaten all year!”
The crowd cheered; all except for a very confused Pound Cake. He didn't have time to be confused for long, though; the crowd swept him up in their march as they sang the chorus.
“She's got brownies!”
“Yes I do!” Pinkie shouted.
“Yes, she's got brownies!”
“They're right here!”
“Be careful, all you unprepared for these delicious little squares! They're brownies!”
Pinkie flung her tray into the air, raining brownies down on the crowd. “For everypony!” she squealed.
“Delicious brownies!”
“Follow me for more!”
“These brownies are so very fine, so chocolatey and quite divine!”
Pound could not fathom how the crowd could possibly sing along with a song Pinkie had just made up. There was something very, very strange about that mare.
The song continued. Pinkie Pie marched in front, a drum major's staff in her hand as she led the crowd towards Sugarcube Corner.
* * *
Carrot Cake and Cup Cake could only stare at the mountain of brownies in their kitchen. There was barely enough room for them to walk through, and the house was definitely going to smell of chocolate for a week.
“Dear, I know we've trusted Pinkie in the past, but she might have gone just a little bit too far this time,” Cup said hesitantly.
“I think you're right, honeybun,” Carrot agreed.
Both of their ears perked up as they heard singing. Singing? When was the last time the whole town had joined in a musical number? They looked at each other, then ran to the window.
Sure enough, there was a crowd coming with Pinkie at the helm, leading what could only be called a hungry mob to the front door.
Cup and Carrot looked at each other and laughed. How could they ever have doubted Pinkie Pie?