//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - May the Best Flan Win // Story: The Steeden University of Culinary Arts // by Dee Pad //------------------------------// The Steeden University of Culinary Arts By Dee Pad ===================================================================== Chapter 3: May the Best Flan Win ===================================================================== The pink mare's blue eyes slowly creaked open, bloodshot and dull. The early morning rays of the sun effortlessly penetrated the curtains of the bedroom window. Luckily, her back was turned and her eyes were able to avoid the ultraviolet assault, also partially protected by her limp and deflated mane. Against her better judgment, Pinkie Pie rolled over to check the clock on the end table between her bed and her still-sleeping roommate's. Seven o' clock, as she expected. Despite her normally perky and optimistic personality, Pinkie, like many ponies, despised Monday morning like a plague. With a reluctant groan, Pinkie Pie allowed herself to slither out of bed and onto the floor. She lay there on her stomach for a moment, staring through tired eyes at the bedroom door. It may as well have been a mile away. She began to squirm her way towards it like a lazy caterpillar, barely mustering up enough energy to reach up and turn the knob. She continued to slink out into the kitchen, stopping in front of the counter. Reaching up, she tapped her hoof around on the counter top until she found what she was looking for: the coffee maker. She clicked the machine on and lay motionless on the cold, tile floor while her beverage was brewing. As soon as she heard the machine stop, she let out another groan and rose laboriously to her hooves, placing one hoof on the counter to prevent herself from getting any more personal with the floor than she already was. She reached up to the cupboard above and pulled out a coffee mug, one that she had brought from home, custom made with a picture of her and her friends on the side. She poured some of the black brew into the mug, then reached for the sugar bowl. Pinkie pulled a spoon out of a drawer and stared at it for a moment. She could see the upside-down reflection of her tired, bloodshot eyes in its well-polished steel. She set the spoon down and instead picked up the sugar bowl, pouring the entirety of its contents into her coffee. She then gingerly stirred it with the spoon, added some cream, then stirred some more. She inhaled deeply through her nose, allowing the strong scent and heat of the coffee to permeate her nostrils. Pinkie placed her lips on the rim and took a tiny sip. She paused as she let the brew dribble into her stomach, then shot the rest down her throat in one gulp. She stood motionless for several seconds, allowing the coffee to settle in her belly. Her body suddenly began to vibrate, twitch, and rumble before her mane sprang out into its usual puffy style, her eyes shooting wide open and awake, and a big grin stretching across her face. "Ahhh, nothin' like a good cup o' Joe first thing in the morning to get the ol' bod percolatin'." With new-found energy, Pinkie Pie popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster for breakfast. She was alerted to the presence of her roommate waking up by the sound of muffled hoofsteps on the carpeted bedroom floor. Puff Pastry stepped out into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Morning~" Pinkie chirped cheerily. Out of consideration for her new friend, she dropped two more slices of toast into the four-slot toaster. "Good morning," Puff returned with much less energy. "Want some coffee?" Puff smiled weakly and nodded. "Ya. Thank you." "Sugar?" The sleepy mare shook her head. "Nein." Pinkie tilted her head. "Nine? Wow, and I thought I was the only one who went overboard." "Nein means 'no,'" Puff corrected. "I like mein coffee black und bitter." "Oh," Pinkie giggled. "It's just as well anyway; I think we're out of sugar." She looked into the empty sugar bowl to confirm that theory, then passed a mug of dark brew to Puff. Their toast popped up and they each applied their preferred spread, Pinkie going with blueberry jam, while Puff opted for peanut butter. The pair then took their simple breakfasts into the living room where they sat on the couch and Pinkie Pie turned on the television, flicking the channel over to some foreign cartoon she'd never heard of; it was colorful and lively though, and that's all she cared about. After taking a bite of her toast, Pinkie glanced over at Puff who still seemed pretty sleepy. "Not a morning person, huh?" Puff simply shrugged. "It's just been a vhile since I've graduated high school. I've gotten used to sleeping in." Pinkie nodded in understanding. "I can understand that. Personally, I don't like to sleep in. It's wasted daylight hours that could be spent doing something fun and exciting. But to each their own I guess." She took another bite of her breakfast. "So," Pinkie started again. "First day of classes. You excited as me?" Puff smiled, some of the tiredness dissipating from her eyes. "Ya. But I guess 'nervous' might be more appropriate." Pinkie waved a hoof dismissively. "Aw, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. As long as you've got confidence in your skills, you'll be fine. You're a good baker, right?" Puff turned away and grinned modestly. "I like to think so. Mein family always enjoyed mein baking." "Mine too!" Pinkie chirped. "It's always most fun to bake stuff for your friends and family, isn't it?" Puff's smiled faded, looking uncertain. "I... suppose." "Right!" Pinkie tossed the last bite of toast into her mouth and hopped off the couch. "Hey, once we get cleaned up and everything, wanna go visit Candy before class starts? Then we can all go to class together!" Her smile returning, Puff replied, "Ya." Having showered, brushed their teeth, and anything else they needed to do, Pinkie Pie and Puff Pastry trotted out into the hall. But as they were about to walk to Candy's room, the door across the hall from theirs opened and revealed another familiar face: Sugar Cookie. The unicorn, upon seeing Pinkie, smiled at her. "We have to stop meeting like this," Sugar giggled softly. Elated to see that another friend lived so close to her, Pinkie giggled gleefully, hopping up and down in place. "Why? I like randomly bumping into friends." "So do I. Especially a happy, beaming face like yours. It is good to have a friend who can lift somepony's spirits in the morning." Sugar glanced to the chubby mare standing with Pinkie. "Speaking of friends..." "Oh, right." Pinkie realized that Sugar and Puff hadn't been properly introduced. "This is my roomie, Puff Pastry. Puff, this is Sugar Cookie." The excitable pony could barely contain her enthusiasm at the thought of her friends making friends. "Guten tag," Puff greeted with a friendly grin. "Goddag," Sugar replied in kind, figuring that if one of them is going to say "hello" in their native tongue, they may as well both do so. "So you wanna go say 'hi' to Candy? We were just gonna head over to her room," Pinkie offered. "As much as I would like that, I do not have time," Sugar answered regretfully. "I am heading to the student lounge for breakfast. But I will see you in class, ya?" Giving Pinkie a wink, Sugar made her way to the stairwell. "Okay, see you there!" Pinkie called out, paying no regard to any other students living nearby that she might inadvertently irritate. "She seems very... friendly," Puff noted. "Yeah, isn't she great?" Pinkie agreed. With that, the pair returned to their objective of going to see Candy Cane. Once again, Pinkie tapped out a melody on the door. When it opened, she didn't see the smiling face of her friend like she had been expecting. It was still her friend, just looking very haggard and displeased. "What's up, buttercup?" Pinkie chirped. Candy groaned and rubbed her eyes. "Great, another early riser," she mumbled sarcastically. Pinkie stifled an amused snort. "Sounds wike somepony hasn't had dere coffee yet," she patronized, patting the mare's head like a grumpy foal. "Did you not get enough sleep last night?" Puff asked with slight concern. Candy shrugged, turning to walk over to the couch, Pinkie and Puff following her inside. "I slept fine. It's her that's the problem." She pointed to the griffon in the kitchen busily dining on a breakfast of bacon and eggs. Gwenivere simply cast a sidelong glance to their company, but said nothing. "I only just got out of bed," Candy elaborated. "I would have slept longer, but Gwenivere decided to rise with the sun and has been up for a couple of hours now. Doesn't help that the apartment's ripe with the smell of meat now either." Gwenivere smirked and waved a strip of bacon at Puff. "'Ope it's not someone you knew." Puff simply rolled her eyes at the griffon, her insults gradually going from offensive to just plain annoying. "Well, it's a good thing she was up," Pinkie said sternly. Candy raised an irritated eyebrow at her. "And why's that?" "Cuz it sounds like you woulda slept in on your first day of class." The other pink mare groaned again. "Look, I'm not a morning person, alright? But I don't need two hours to get ready for my day. I can get all that stuff done in forty-five minutes, maybe less. It's not like taking a shower and making toast or a bowl of cereal is difficult." She let her face drop into one of the throw pillows on the couch. "But don't you vant to give yourself some time to vake up?" Puff asked. "That's what coffee's for," she replied, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Looks like you could use another cup," Pinkie giggled. "If you three are done squawking, would you kindly remove yourselves from our dorm?" Gwenivere asked, stepping into the living room. "Some of us still 'ave to get ready for class." "Don't let us stop you," Pinkie said with an oblivious smile. Seeing that the ponies weren't budging, Gwenivere simply shook her head and made her way towards the bathroom, muttering something in Prench under her breath. Candy lifted her face from the pillow and lazily got off the couch. "Just let me pour up another cup of coffee. Then we can get to class." "Okie dokie then!" Pinkie chirped, planting herself on their couch and turning on some cartoons as she waited. Puff looked at the child-like mare sitting on the couch, then to the tired mare who was pouring up her coffee in the kitchen. A question suddenly popped up in her mind and she walked over to Candy to voice it, sitting next to her as she sat at the table and stirred the cream into her cup. "How did you two meet?" she asked simply. Candy looked up from her mug after taking a sip. "Hm?" "It's just... you two seem to be very different people. I'm vondering vhat vould have to happen for two ponies like you to meet each other." Candy stayed silent for a moment, staring out into the living room at the mare giggling loudly at foreign cartoons. A small smile creased her weary lips. "It's kind of a long story. Actually, when we ran into each other on the ship here, that was only the second time we met." Puff's eyes widened in surprise. "Only the second time? But you seem to be such good friends." Still smiling, Candy shrugged. "We are. It's kind of hard to explain, but I guess you've seen for yourself what kind of person she is. Once she makes a friend, it's like they've been friends for years." She laughed quietly at the thought. "It's funny when you think about it. She can be a little... overwhelming at first, but her enthusiasm just seems to rub off on you eventually. Well, on some people anyway," she said, glancing in the general direction of her roommate. "But how did you actually meet the first time?" Puff asked again. Candy recalled the fateful night with a sigh. "Like I said, it's a long story. Let's just say she saved my life. I feel like I owe her a debt of gratitude, and if being her friend is all she really wants, then I'm happy to oblige." Puff looked over her shoulder at the laughing pony on the couch. It was hard to believe that such a strange individual could save somepony's life. Candy downed the last drop of her coffee and stood up to drop the mug in the sink. "Come on, we should probably head to class." ***** ***** ***** Gustave sat at his desk, idly sifting through papers as he waited for the remainder of his students to arrive. Most of them had already shown up, including his daughter, as well as Pinkie Pie and her friends. There were just a few more stragglers left, though technically they weren't late as it was still a few minutes until nine. For the final few minutes before he officially began his first lesson of the year, Gustave looked out over the relatively small crowd of students. They had gathered in one of the university's normal classrooms rather than one of the lecture halls, though it was still rather sizable compared to the typical grade school classroom. The mustachioed griffon was not surprised, though still somewhat disappointed, that the number of students had already dwindled over the weekend; apparently the sheer scope of the building and its facilities proved too intimidating for some, though he felt his words may have played a role as well, regretfully. However, the students that remained seemed to display mixed expressions. Some showed signs of nervousness, anxiously twiddling their hooves or claws as they waited for class to begin, while others, like his own daughter, displayed unwavering confidence. Others still, such as the enigmatic Pinkie Pie, wasn't so much confident as she was excited, unable to sit still and with a big smile on her face, a smile he would no doubt be seeing a lot, much to Gustave's chagrin. But he was willing to teach so long as she was willing to learn. The door to the classroom opened and two more ponies walked in to take their seats. Gustave cast a glance to the clock above the door. Just in time. Seeing that all of his students had arrived, he rose from his desk and stood before the classroom of aspiring pastry chefs. "Bonjour. I am 'appy to see zat most of you 'ad zee motivation to go zrough wiz zis course après all. Très bon. I do 'ope you enjoyed your weekend and took zee time to familiarize yourselves wiz zis school, but today we begin our studies." A pink hoof shot into the air to grab Gustave's attention. With a sigh, Gustave acknowledged her. "Yes, Pinkie Pie?" Lowering her hoof, Pinkie took a brief look around the room they were all in. "So, uh... how come we're in a boring, old classroom instead of the kitchen?" As immature as she may have sounded, that was a question that Gustave had been expecting, though perhaps not so soon. "Zat is because zere is much more to baking zan just baking. Zere is much you all must learn if you wish to truly master zee art. Zat is zee purpose of zis establishment. We will be testing not just your skills, but also your créativité. So while we will be spending zee majorité of our time in zee kitchen, we will also be spending much time 'ere, in zee classroom. 'Ere you will learn everyzing you need to know, and in zee kitchen is where you will apply what you 'ave learned." Pinkie responded with a satisfied smile. "'Kay." Gustave wore a smile of his own. "'Aving mentioned créativité, I suppose now would be a good time to announce your assignment for zee week. I wish to see not just your skill, but 'ow creative you are. As such, between classes zroughout zee week, I expect you all to devise your own recipes—could be anyzing: cakes; pies; cookies; etcetera. As long as it is pastry. Zen, on Friday morning, you will demonstrate your skills and bake using your recipe, and I will judge zee finished product. Compris?" The class acknowledged with nods, showing their understanding of the assignment. Gustave was proud to see that they were listening intently, or at least pretending to listen. The latter individuals would become apparent in due time. "Bien. Zen wiz zat out of zee way, we can begin today's lesson. Après which we will déplacer to zee kitchen for some démonstrations et pratique." ***** ***** ***** With the first day of classes behind her, Candy Cane had returned to her dorm alongside Gwenivere. She dropped her books on the coffee table and immediately headed for the kitchen, fishing through cupboards and pulling out pans and cooking trays. Gwenivere cast her a vexed looked as she sat upon the couch and turned on the television. "What are you doing?" "What's it look like? I'm preparing for the assignment," Candy replied, her head buried in the cupboards under the sink. The griffon rolled her eyes. "Zat assignment is not until Friday. You plan to spend all of your free time getting ready for it?" Candy began searching through the pantry for the ingredients she needed. "Well, no, but I'd like to get a jump on it to make sure I know what I'm doing." All of a sudden, the door burst open, threatening to tear it off its hinges. Standing at the threshold, much to Gwenivere's annoyance, was a smiling, pink earth pony and her chubby roommate. "Woo! Day one done!" Pinkie exclaimed with vigor. "Only three hundred and sixty four to go!" She paused and put a hoof to her chin. "Minus weekends. And holidays. And unforeseen circumstances. But still, woo!" "You might want to hold onto some of that enthusiasm, Pinkie," Candy chuckled. "Save some for the rest of the year." "Pfft, I got enthusiasm to spare," Pinkie scoffed. She and Puff walked into the kitchen with Candy, taking notice of all the stuff she had gathered onto the counter and table. "Whacha doin' here?" Candy smiled as she spoke. "As I was just explaining to the grumpy gull over there, I'm testing out my recipe for Friday's assignment." "You already have a recipe in mind?" Puff said incredulously. "Well, actually, it's a recipe that I came up with a few years ago for my own homemade, chocolate malt balls. We sell them at my dad's shop, and they sell pretty well, so I'm kinda proud of them. I'm not sure if they're up to Chef le Grand's standards though, but I figured, since it's something I already know, I might as well." "Is that allowed?" Puff asked. "Don't vee have to come up vith a new recipe for the assignment?" Candy paused for a moment and thought about it. "He didn't specifically say that. He said we have to use a recipe of our own creation, and I created this recipe. I don't think I'm breaking any rules, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask him about it tomorrow. I can always alter the recipe for the assignment or something." Puff Pastry scratched her head in thought. "In that case, I have a recipe for donuts that I could try. Vith lemon filling und chocolate drizzle." Pinkie Pie's mouth visibly began watering. Candy laughed. "I'm probably going to have to work out some sort of exercise regimen for the year. We're going to be eating so many calories." "The doctor told me I have an 'impossible metabolism,'" Pinkie stated with an oblivious grin. "I dunno what that means, but I just don't seem to pack on the pounds." She pat her trim belly to punctuate the point." "I vish I had that problem," Puff added with a hearty chuckle, rubbing her own round belly. As the three friends shared a laugh, Candy looked over to Gwenivere, who was still sitting on the couch, seemingly ignoring the goings-on in their kitchen. "What about you, Gwenivere?" "What about moi?" she replied without turning around. Candy walked over to the couch to look the reclining griffon in the face. "You just seem so nonchalant about the assignment. I assume you have a recipe in mind too." Gwenivere responded with a huff. "But of course. I am zee daughter of zee great Gustave le Grand. Anyzing I bake will be nozing short of amazing." "So whatcha makin'?" Pinkie Pie asked, leaning over the back of the couch. Gwenivere cast a glower at the pink pony. "Zat is none of your business. But I can assure you zat anyzing I make will eclipse whatever dredge you manage to concoct." Candy Cane put on a devious grin, the griffon's words forming an idea in her mind. "I don't know about you, Pinkie, but that sounded like a challenge." Pinkie's eyes lit up. "Ooooo, a challenge. I like a good challenge." Gwenivere raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you going on about?" "After all the smack you've been talking, I think it's about time that you put your pastries where your beak is," Candy challenged. "That's where you normally put pastries," Pinkie made sure to point out. "You are suggesting a wager?" Gwenivere inferred, a curious grin forming on her beak. "That's right," Candy confirmed. "If you think you're better than Pinkie Pie, then prove it on Friday. Your dad can be the judge and tell us which one he thinks is better." Gwenivere sat up, finally taking an interest in the conversation. "And what are zee stakes of zis bet?" Candy looked at her two friends for a moment, the three of them pondering what would be gained and what would be lost. "How about this: if you lose, you have to be nice to Pinkie and Puff for the rest of the year. No more insults." The griffon rolled her eyes. "Zen I may as well not speak at all." "Then you'll be doing everypony a favor," Candy muttered under her breath. "But vhat if Pinkie Pie loses?" inquired Puff. Pinkie smiled and looked at Gwenivere. "I guess that's up to Gwen. Are you gonna make us do all your chores? Or make us do something embarrassing in front of the whole school?" Gwenivere scratched her chin in thought. The prospect was very promising to her. "'Ow about... when I win, you 'ave to quit school and go back 'ome." Suddenly, the entertainment value of the wager had been sucked dry, leaving Candy and Puff with their mouths agape. "Don't you think that's a bit extreme? Pinkie came a long way and paid a lot of money to be here and you would force her to give all that up?" Candy said, expressing her concern. With a smug smirk, Gwenivere shrugged. "What? You do not 'ave confidence in your friend?" "I'm not saying that, it's just—" "Done deal!" Pinkie said, holding her hoof out to Gwenivere. With an already-triumphant grin, the griffon took Pinkie's hoof in her talons and shook with her. The party pony hopped off the back of the couch and made for the door. "Alright-y then! Guess I should get back to my dorm and start practicing. See you later, Candy!" The door shut loudly behind her. Puff glanced around awkwardly and shuffled her way to the door as well. "I suppose I'll get going, too. Goodbye." With a satisfied smile, Gwenivere reclined onto the couch again and turned her attention back to the television. Candy glared at her harshly, a deep feeling in her gut telling her that this had turned out a little worse than she had expected. ***** ***** ***** "♪—A crust of lemon filling, topped up with meringue! A yummy, scrumptious lemon pie, to share with the whole gang!♪" As Pinkie Pie sang the final verse of the song she had just made up off the top of her head, she reached into the oven and pulled out the finished lemon meringue pie she had made. She inhaled the scent of the lemon filling deeply and placed the pie on the counter to cool, seemingly satisfied with the result. Puff had been watching—and listening—curiously the whole time, looking at Pinkie Pie as if she were some sort of unknown anomaly. "Do you usually sing vhen you bake?" "Sometimes. I find that a chipper tune makes baking even more fun than it already is!" Pinkie replied with her usual big smile. "What, you don't sing when you bake?" Puff shook her head. "No. I don't really know any songs." "Then make something up. Improvise! That's what I do." "I don't think I could do that." "You should just try it sometime. It'll be fun, I promise." Puff simply shrugged, unsure if she wanted to do that. Pinkie certainly seemed to enjoy it; it might be worth trying at some point. When she had some privacy perhaps. "Alright, let's give this a go," Pinkie said as she turned back to the fresh lemon pie. She eagerly cut out a slice and placed it on a small plate, bringing it over to the table with her. She stuck a fork into the pie and shoveled a bite into her mouth. Puff observed her wince a little. "Hoo, still hot," Pinkie breathed, fanning her tongue. Despite the residual heat of the pastry, Pinkie allowed the taste to settle on her tongue, analyzing the flavor. Puff eyed her intently. "So?" Pinkie crossed her forelegs and closed her eyes in thought. "I dunno. It's good, but it could be better. It's not as good as Mrs. Cake's recipe." "So you don't think you can beat Gwenivere vith that?" asked Puff. The pink pony sighed in resignation. "Nah. I'm gonna have to try something else." Pinkie hopped up from the table and began to fish around in the pantry again. "Vhat are you going to try next?" "Cupcakes!" Pinkie pulled a cupcake tin out of a cupboard. "Probably should have started with this; cupcakes are my specialty." As Pinkie continued to round up the ingredients for her cupcake recipe, a knock on the door was heard. Seeing as how Pinkie was rather busy, Puff got up to answer it, revealing their visitor to be Candy Cane. She was holding a small bowl full of chocolate balls as well. "Hallo, Candy," Puff greeted, her grin more a result of not seeing Gwenivere around than anything. "Hey, Puff." Candy peeked inside to see Pinkie Pie busily mixing a bowl of batter. "She seems busy." Puff quickly glanced over to Pinkie as well. "Ya, she's testing some new recipes." The tan earth pony stepped aside to allow her guest in. Candy frowned slightly. "For the bet?" Puff nodded. Caught up in her baking, Pinkie didn't even notice Candy until she entered the kitchen. "Oh, hiya, Candy!" she greeted as she poured batter into the cupcake tin. "Hi. What are you making there?" Candy asked as she leaned in for a peek. "Cupcakes. If there's any pastry I know like the back of my hoof, it's cupcakes." Pinkie slid the tray into the oven and set the heat, then turned back to her company. "You hungry?" The question seemed to catch Candy of guard. "Hm? Oh, well, I just had a sandwich for supper, but I suppose I wouldn't say I'm full." Pinkie beamed. "Great! Here's your dessert!" She tossed the remainder of the lemon pie onto the table. "Dig in!" Candy stared at the pie, noticing that a slice had been removed. Said slice could be seen sitting upon a plate nearby with a single bite taken out of it. It all came across as a little suspect. "Not that I don't trust you, but... is something wrong with it?" Puff cut out a piece for herself and took a bite, a big smile spreading across her lips. "Mmm. Nein, it's delicious." Any concerns successfully quelled, Candy took out her own piece. "That was my first attempt at a recipe for the assignment," Pinkie explained. "It's good, but I don't think it's up to snuff." Candy scooped a bite into her mouth. Her eyes widened when the tangy, lemon flavor and the softness of the meringue struck her palate. She was reluctant to swallow it, wanting to let the taste soak into her tongue as long as possible. "Pinkie, this is incredible. It's probably the best lemon pie I've ever tasted. This is not up to snuff?!" Pinkie joined her friends at the table and shrugged. "Nah. Believe me, I know pie—it's in my name, for Celestia's sake—and this pie is sub-par for my standards. Candy stared at Pinkie's dissatisfied expression incredulously. If this was sub-par, she couldn't even imagine what a good pie tasted like in Pinkie's world. After swallowing another bite, Candy responded, "Pinkie, I have no doubt that this pie would impress Chef le Grand. You've got a winning dessert right here. Why not go with it?" "Because I can do better." Candy looked at the expression on Pinkie's face. There was no hint of jest or humility, only utter seriousness and confidence. "I'm even starting to think that my cupcakes aren't gonna be enough. If I wanna really blow Gustave's mind, I gotta pull out all the stops." Pinkie looked down at the bowl that Candy had brought with her and placed on the table. "Wuzzat?" "Huh?" The sudden shift in topic shaking her from her stupor, Candy's gaze followed Pinkie's to the bowl. "Oh, those're my chocolate malt balls. I brought 'em over for you guys to try." Without hesitation, Pinkie and Puff both picked one up and popped them in their mouths. They both moaned with delight as the rich, milky chocolate melted on their tongues, followed by the satisfying crunch of the malted milk inside. "Oooh, that's tasty," Pinkie moaned. Puff nodded in agreement, unable to resist tossing another into her mouth. "Ya. It vould give the big candy companies a run for their bits." Candy blushed modestly. "Well, let's not go overboard. It's a pretty simple recipe, all things considered." Pinkie flicked several more malt balls into the air, catching them in her open mouth. "Eifer way," she said with a full mouth, "you'll definitely pash de ashignment wid dese." "Speaking of which, I really have to apologize, Pinkie," Candy stated with a remorseful frown. Pinkie gulped down the mouthful of chocolate treats. "For what?" "For suggesting that you and Gwenivere make a wager. I didn't think she would be that cruel about it. You have too much to lose now, maybe it would be best if we tried to call it off," Candy pleaded. Pinkie simply shook her head. "Nope, can't do that. We shook on it. It's a legally bound agreement now." "That's absolutely not true," Candy deadpanned. "Well, think about it this way: if I win, I could earn Gwen's respect." "But do you actually intend to keep your end of the deal and go home if you lose?" Candy asked worriedly. Pinkie smiled and placed a hoof to her chest. "Of course. I'm a mare of my word." "Und you're not vorried?" Puff asked. Pinkie's smile faded and she nervously shuffled her hooves. "Well, yeah I'm worried. I don't want to leave after all the trouble I had to go through to get here." Her smile returned as she continued. "But that's why I'm trying for the best recipe I can make. I'm not just gonna win, I'm gonna blow Gwen out of the water." She confidently tossed another malt ball into her mouth. The look of sheer determination and certainty in Pinkie's eyes managed to subdue some of the worries that plagued Candy, though there was still always a chance that she could lose the bet. "Just remember that you don't actually have to leave if you lose. It's just a silly bet. I'd hate to be the one responsible if you just quit like that." She stood up and picked up her now empty container, making her way to the door. "I'll be rooting for you." "Thanks a bunch!" Pinkie said as Candy walked out of the dorm. "I'll bring over some cupcakes when they're done!" The short walk back to her dorm gave Candy Cane plenty of time to mull over the situation she had gotten her friend into. Her intention was to put Gwenivere in her place, but not at such a high risk. She needed to shrug it off; it really wasn't a big deal. Like she had just told Pinkie, none of them actually had to take this bet seriously. Maybe if they had simply wagered money, she wouldn't be so concerned about Pinkie losing. When Candy returned to her own dorm, she found Gwenivere lying in the same place she had been when she left, still idly flicking through channels on the television. For the moment, the earth pony decided to ignore the griffon and clean out her container in the sink. As she did, however, she found herself glancing back to Gwenivere more than once. There was no way she could get through the rest of this day without bringing it up to her. After drying off the dish and putting it away, Candy trotted back to the living room and stared at the reclining griffon for a moment before speaking. "Can I ask you something, Gwenivere?" "I suppose," she replied simply, not turning her eyes away from the television. "Why would you make Pinkie Pie risk her entire education here, not to mention all the money she spent to get here?" Candy's tone was becoming increasingly upset the more she talked about the subject. Gwenivere gave a lazy shrug. "If she is as skilled as you believe 'er to be, zen you 'ave nozing to worry about, non?" "Look, this whole thing just went in a different direction than I was expecting," Candy sighed. "Is there any chance you guys can just call it off?" "Why should I?" Gwenivere asked with a smirk. "It's not like I have much to lose." Candy lowered her head in defeat. Clearly this thing was going to happen no matter how much she didn't want it to now. The only thing she could do now was hope. She took a seat next to Gwenivere on the couch. "What do you have against Pinkie Pie anyway? What did she ever do to you?" "Nozing." "Then why are you harassing her so much?" Gwenivere sat up and finally looked Candy in the eyes. "Because if she zinks zat she can coast zrough zis course by getting friendly wiz mon papa, she should not be here in zee first place." Candy raised an eyebrow in vexation. "And what makes you think that that's what she's doing?" "I saw 'er speaking wiz him, acting as if zey were old friends." "So what? Pinkie likes to make friends with everypony. We've only been here for a few days and she's already made two new friends. Plus, she already knew your dad. She was just saying 'hi' to him." "She is pulling strings," Gwenivere accused with a furrowed brow. "And I intend to fix zat." Candy cast a glance at the television. "And you intend to do that by sitting here and watching T.V.? Why don't you practice your recipe?" Gwenivere turned her beak up at the suggestion. "Because I do not need practice. My recipe is somezing zat I 'ave 'ad years to master." Candy rolled her eyes and hopped off the couch. "Whatever. I'm going to make more malt balls." "'Ave fun," Gwenivere bid condescendingly. ***** ***** ***** All of Gustave's students stood at attention before him, donning their aprons and chef's hats. Each student had taken their posts next to one of the many Burn Master ovens that lined the walls of one of the university's kitchens. The tables around them were packed with an assortment of ingredients and threatening to spill over onto the floor. They had all gathered here this morning for the same purpose: to prove their worth and show their instructor that they deserved to learn at the Steeden University of Culinary Arts. Gustave eyed the expressions on his students' faces. They were much the same as they had been on the first day; mixed expressions of excitement, confidence, and nervousness. While some stood with their chests puffed out proudly, others were adorned with drops of sweat rolling down their foreheads and necks. This past week had given him enough time to make an estimation as to just how many, and who specifically, would remain for the rest of the year, though there was always room for error. Perhaps many of these aspiring pastry chefs worked well under pressure. Either way, he was about to find out. "Bonjour, class." Gustave's voice finally breaking the silence prompted several of the students to tense up in anticipation. "As you all well know, today we will be testing your skill as pastry chefs. I 'ave asked you all to devise your own recipes and demonstrate zem to me so zat I may determine wezer or not you really should be 'ere. I trust you 'ave all been practicing for zis zroughout zee week." Gustave paused to see his students' reactions. Most of them nodded, though his own daughter appeared to be too busy straightening the feathers of her bangs to listen. He then took a moment to size up the tables, more specifically the ingredients upon them. "Judging by zee variété I see before me, I am expecting a cornucopia of desserts today. I am looking forward to tasting zem all, zough not to zee impending stomachache for 'ow much I must eat." His joke elicited some chuckles from his students, which, in turn, got a smile from him. Considering how nervous many of them were, he figured that the least he could do was lighten the mood a bit. "I do not want you to feel pressured," he continued. "I wish for each and every one of you to pass zis test. As such, you may take as much time as you need to make your dish parfait. Vous pouvez commencer." The class waited as silence once again fell over the kitchen, the students glancing around in confusion and waiting for their teacher to continue. Gustave simply raised an eyebrow, then sighed and gestured with his claw. "You may begin." Before any of the other students could take a step, Pinkie Pie eagerly lunged forward and grabbed all of the ingredients she had prepared, hauling them over to her station. Her friends, as well as the rest of her classmates, followed suit, though at a more steady pace. It didn't take long for a plethora of mouth-watering aromas to fill the kitchen. Caramelized sugar, baking dough and batter, and melting chocolate were but a few of the scents that wafted about, creating an amalgamation of olfactory flavors. The kitchen was pretty quiet for the most part, the most prominent sounds being that of whirring mixers. Although there seemed to be a happy tune playing from somewhere, a quick assessment revealing that it was the humming of a cheery, pink earth pony. As the minutes went by and each pastry came closer and closer to completion, Gustave slowly paced around the room, curiously watching as his students went to work. He felt a sense of pride beginning to well up within him; despite the worries they had, they all worked fervently and with utmost focus, working to the best of their ability. He was beginning to think that his early judgments may have been a tad hasty. Finally, after much waiting and anticipation on Gustave's part, the student's were finishing up. He watched with eager curiosity as all manner of pastries were being pulled from the ovens, from cookies to cakes. Now came the moment of truth: the taste test. Gustave approached Puff Pastry as she wiped the sweat from her brow. On her station was a plate of donuts, their tops coated with chocolate drizzle. Puff smiled nervously as her instructor picked one up and looked it over. She knew they weren't anything fancy; she put most of her effort into making them taste good rather than look good. The griffon bit into it and almost immediately his eyes widened at the sudden sensation of lemon on his tongue as the filling burst out. "Sacre bleu. Zat is quite zee intense flavor," he remarked after swallowing a bite. Puff gulped anxiously. "Is it too much?" Gustave quelled her worry with a hearty smile. "Non, not at all. Zis is fantastique. Zee soft dough and zee sweet chocolate mixed wiz zee tangy lemon filling. It is not a combination I 'ave often seen, but you 'ave managed it well. Très bien, Puff." Puff breathed a sigh of relief. "Vielen dank, Chef le Grand." Moving along, Gustave made his way to Candy Cane's station, where she had prepared a bowl of chocolate malt balls. Pinkie Pie was standing at the station adjacent to her, fidgeting impatiently as she eyed the bowl herself, her lips smacking. Gustave held one of the treats between his talons. "Zis is zee recipe zat you asked about?" Gustave asked, recollecting their conversation from earlier in the week. Candy replied with a nod and a proud smile. "Yes. I've been making these malt balls and selling them at my dad's shop for a couple of years now. I'm interested to see what a professional pastry chef thinks of them, especially one as renowned as you, Chef." Gustave chuckled quietly. "Flattery is all well and good, but 'ow about we let your recipe do zee talking." Gustave popped the chocolate treat into his mouth, taking a moment to analyze the taste before he crunched it between his teeth. "Mmm. Zee chocolate melts in your mouth and zee center gives zee crunch zat makes eating zese types of candy so satisfying. Excellent flavor and texture as well. Magnifique." "I'm glad you like them," Candy said with a grin. She couldn't help but notice that Gustave was still eyeing the bowl. "Would you like another one?" Without hesitation, the griffon obliged. "Don't mind if I do." He reached in once more, only to find that his claw had collided with the bottom of the bowl. All but one ball had mysteriously vanished. Candy glanced over to the other pink mare standing nearby, attempting to whistle innocently, but with her cheeks packed full like a chipmunk, she found her efforts stymied. Pinkie Pie chanced a look back, her eyes meeting with both Candy's and Gustave's. With a loud and elongated crunch, she bit down and swallowed the whole lot, then grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself." With a roll of his eyes, Gustave ate the last malt ball. "I zink zat is a testament to zee... 'ow shall we say, addictive quality of your work. You simply cannot stop wiz just one. I zink I will 'ave to put myself on a strict diet when zee year is out." "I think we all will," Candy giggled. "Now zen," Gustave said with a deep sigh. He turned to the smiling mare at the station next to Candy's. "Madame Pie." Pinkie nodded politely. "Mon sur le Grand." Gustave looked around Pinkie's station, but found no sign of any pastries. With a raised eyebrow, he asked the mare, "Er, Pinkie Pie, where is your dish?" "Still in the oven. It needs another minute." The loud ding of the oven timer went off at that moment. "Oops, nevermind. All done." After turning off the heat, Pinkie slipped on a pair of oven mitts, opened the oven, and reached inside. With a grand flourish, she whipped out her creation, standing on her hind legs and raising it above her head. In her mitted hooves she held a small, ceramic ramekin. Inside the dish was an overly-large, puffy, chocolate soufflé. "Behold! The very first Pinkie Soufflé Supreme!" She delicately placed the ramekin on one of the kitchen's prep tables, only for a hole to suddenly pop open in the soft surface of the pastry, causing the smile on her face to instantly deflate, much like her creation. "Uh oh." Gustave shook his head at the pitiful sight of the deflated pastry. "Zat is unfortunate. Normally a soufflé would last longer zan zat." Pinkie stared at it with utter dejection, devastated that her experiment had failed so miserably. "But... Did I not bake it long enough?" Gustave leaned in to look over the fallen soufflé. "Are you experienced wiz soufflés, Pinkie Pie?" The mare rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Um... no, not really. To be honest, I've been baking all sorts of stuff all week to try and find the best choice. I figured since soufflés are notoriously finicky, it would be pretty impressive to make my own. I only came up with this recipe late last night; I didn't have time to test it though." Gwenivere stood at her station with a smug grin, watching triumphantly as her father scrutinized the competition for her. The mustachioed griffon let out a regretful sigh. "Pinkie Pie, zis assignment was not about baking somezing zat would impress me, it was about displaying your créativité. Even zee most skilled chefs, myself included, occasionally bumble zee soufflé. I would 'ave been perfectly fine wiz something simple, such as cookies or cupcakes, as long as you could express your créativité." Pinkie hung her head in defeat, her ears folding back and the luster fading from her eyes. Candy and Puff exchanged worried expressions. Gustave picked up a fork and scooped a bite of the soufflé into his mouth. He chewed for a moment, turning his eyes up as he analyzed the taste. "Zat being said, zis recipe is très délicieux. Everyzing from zee flavor to zee texture is spot on." Pinkie perked up at his words, her eyes widening anxiously. Gustave was smiling at her. "Wiz proper instruction, I am sure zat I can help you perfect zis recipe." The glint returned to Pinkie's eyes. "Does that mean...?" The griffon nodded. "Oui, regardless of it's state, zis is passable. Très bon." As Gustave moved past Pinkie to evaluate the next pastry, Pinkie let out a great sigh of relief. With smiles on their faces, Puff and Candy trotted up next to her, the latter giving Pinkie a quick hug. "Way to go, Pinkie," Candy congratulated. "Hoo, that was a close one," Pinkie sighed. "Next time I really should practice. When that thing popped, I thought my heart was gonna do the same." "I don't vant to sound like the stick in the mud, but you only just passed," Puff pointed out. "Vhat does that mean for your bet?" Candy turned her eyes over to Gwenivere and the other two earth ponies followed suit. The haughty smirk stretching across her beak was aggravating. Gustave was now stopped at his daughter's station as well. "Guess we're about to find out." Gwenivere looked into her father's eyes, her beak curved with a self-important smile. Gustave did not smile back, instead focusing on the plate of éclairs on her station. Gwenivere picked one up and offered it to her dad. "I am one hundred percent certain you will find zis quite satisfying, Papa," she proclaimed. Gustave accepted the éclair, looking it over with interest. "Zen I am looking forward to it." He bit into the dessert, allowing the taste and texture to settle on his palate. With his eyes closed, he nodded, seemingly enjoying the taste just as Gwenivere had expected. "Well? Is it not perfection? It is delectable, non?" Gwenivere asked with confidence. Swallowing the bite, Gustave replied, "Oui, it most certainly is." He looked at his daughter, not with a proud and satisfied smile, but what appeared to be a stern glare. "But, of course, I knew zat when I created zis recipe." "His recipe?" Candy whispered in confusion. Gwenivere simply continued to smile victoriously. "Are you not proud, Papa? Zis is nozing short of a perfect re-creation of your world-famous éclairs." Gustave was unyielding to her bravado. "Zat is true. You 'ave been practicing zis recipe for many years, so it is not surprising." His tone became somewhat more disciplinary as he spoke to his daughter. "'Owever, you 'ave entirely missed zee point of zis assignment." In one fell swoop, all confidence drained from Gwenivere in an instant, her expression displaying shock. "Quelle?! But... I worked 'ard to make zese éclairs exactly as you do. I zought you would be proud..." Gustave grimaced as he watched the positivity drain from his daughter's face. Pinkie Pie and her friends were amazed more than anything; they had not yet seen Gwenivere display anything resembling regret in the short time they'd known her. "I am proud, Gwenivere," Gustave corrected. "Which is why I expected better of you." She looked at him with utter confusion, as if the statement itself were absurd in notion. "But what is better zan your éclairs?" Her father shook his head. "I mean zat I am disappointed zat you zink zat, because I am tu père, you could coast your way zrough zis course by flattering me wiz imitation. I did not zink I would 'ave to say zis so many times, but zee purpose of zis assignment was to display créativité. Zis..." he said, holding up the partially-eaten éclair, "...is not créativité. It is plagiarism." Gwenivere hung her head in shame, barely able to look her father in the eye. "But... Papa..." "Chef le Grand," Gustave corrected. "During class hours I am a teacher first, and you will address me as such. Do not zink for a moment zat just because you are mon fille zat you will receive special treatment. I wanted you to enroll 'ere so zat you could furzer your skills. Now it is quite clear zat zere is still much zat I need to teach you, and not just about baking." "So is she gonna fail because of this?" Gustave and Gwenivere both turned to Pinkie Pie. The notion brought no joy to Pinkie's face. Instead, she seemed worried for the griffon. Gustave let out a sigh. "Non." That one word implanted just a small amount of relief into Gwenivere's mind. "But zat is only because I know zat Gwenivere 'as zee skill to be great." Gustave looked his daughter in the eyes, his stern expression softening. "I 'ave observed zis for many years. I do not want you to zink zat zis is an act of nepotism, I simply do not want such talent to go to waste. 'Ave I made myself perfectly clear, Gwenivere?" Gwenivere nodded solemnly. "Oui, Papa." Gustave furrowed his brow at her response and she acted to correct herself. "Chef le Grand." "Bien," he replied simply before moving on to the next student and the next pastry. Concerned, Pinkie Pie cautiously approached Gwenivere. There was a small amount of relief in the griffon's eyes, but was encased by an aura of dejection. Both, however, were done away with when Gwenivere spotted the pink pony standing next to her and replaced by what Pinkie could only assume was resigned aggravation. The earth pony was expecting Gwenivere to say something, but, when she didn't, decided to start the conversation herself. "So, uh... I guess that could have gone better for both of us, huh?" Pinkie said with an uncomfortable chuckle. "'Ave you come to mock me?" Gwenivere asked flatly. "Nopony's mocking anypony... or anygriffon either," Candy interjected as she and Puff walked over. "The way I see it, neither one of you is in any position to be bragging." Gwenivere let out a sigh. "I suppose not. And I also suppose that you 'ave won our little wager." "As much as I'd like to declare Pinkie the winner, we don't get to decide who won. We agreed that your dad would be the judge of that. So why don't we ask him?" The griffon thought for a moment, the possibility of her father berating her further an unpleasant thought. "Very well. We may as well settle zis." Currently, Gustave was preparing to judge Sugar Cookie's recipe, looking over the tray of cookies she had prepared with great interest. They were fairly basic oatmeal cookies, though with a shell of blue frosting over their tops for added flavor. However, one of them stood out; a larger cookie, shaped like a heart, and with pink frosting instead of blue. Curious, Gustave reached for that particular cookie only to have his claw suddenly pushed away by a crimson hoof. Surprised, he looked Sugar in the eye who was now only just realizing what she had done and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, but I am saving that one for a friend." The mustachioed griffon seemed confused, but decided to shrug it off and take one of the others. "Chef le Grand, can we ask you something?" Pinkie's voice caused him to halt just as he was about to bite the cookie. "Can it wait? I am somewhat busy," he said, waving the cookie in the air. "Or while you are here," Sugar interjected with a grin. With an aura of deep purple magic, she levitated the heart-shaped cookie over to Pinkie Pie. "This is for you." "Oh, thanks!" Pinkie immediately chomped into the biscuit without removing it from Sugar's telekinetic grasp. "Mmm. Scrumptious." Now even more curious, Gustave took the opportunity, while Pinkie's mouth was full, to sample the snack himself. "Vraiment. Zis is indeed quite tasty. Eye-catching as well." Sugar smiled modestly. "I have been told that I know how to turn heads." "And I can see why. Zey look as good as zey taste. Well done. Zough it is worrying zat zis is likely zee healthiest zing I will eat today." Wiping his beak with a napkin, Gustave turned to Pinkie and her friends. "Now zen, you wished to speak wiz me?" "Yeah, we need you to settle something for us, Chef le Grand," Candy informed. "See, Pinkie and Gwenivere made a bet to see who could make the better pastry for this assignment." Gustave gave his daughter a judgmental glare. "A bet?" "Don't worry, we didn't put money on it or anything," Pinkie assured. "Just... pride more than anything." "And we wanted you to decide who won, if that's okay," Candy continued. Gustave stroked his chin. "I see. Zis certainly explains zee results of your work. I assume you two were more focused on winning zis bet zan actually doing what you are told." Pinkie and Gwenivere both looked a touch embarrassed. Gustave sighed and decided to move on. "And what was zee criteria for zis bet exactly? 'Ooever 'ad zee best recipe, or 'ooever performed zee best on zee assignment?" "I think we agreed that whatever one you think was better overall would be the winner," Candy answered. Gustave closed his eyes in thought. Both Pinkie and Gwenivere waited with bated breath for his answer. "As I said to boz of you before, neizer of you seemed to fully understand zee assignment. Wiz zat said, your recipes were still quite good. Boz were très délicieux. As such, I 'ave decided..." Pinkie and Gwenivere leaned in anxiously. "...a tie." "A tie?!" the two echoed in unison. "Oui. You boz 'ave much to learn, and because of zat, I cannot declare eizer one of you a winner. Ozerwise, I would 'ave nozing to teach you." With a sly grin, Gustave returned to his work to judge the work of the other students. The two competitors shared surprised and confused looks with one another, unable to decide how they felt about this outcome. "So I guess no one wins," Candy stated with a relieved smile. "And you've proven that you are both equals, so you can stop competing, Gwenivere." The griffon shook off her stupor and thrust her beak up at the ponies. "Ha! 'Equals'? Très droll. Zee result of zis wager is 'ardly evidence of 'ow we compare. Until a victor can truly be decided, I will not accept such a... clown as my equal." Pinkie waved modestly. "Aw, shucks, Gwen, that's nice of you to say, but I gave up trying to be a clown a long time ago. But it was fun going..." Pinkie reached into her mane and pulled out an Ponish-to-Prench translation guide, flipping through it quickly before stopping on one particular page. "...'tête à tête... avec tu.'" Gwenivere scoffed, unimpressed and unfazed by Pinkie's nonsense. She turned her back to the ponies, uninterested in continuing the conversation further. With her out of the way, Sugar Cookie took the opportunity to take her place. "If all of that ugliness is over, may I ask how you enjoyed my cookies, Pinkie Pie?" "Tastacular! I'm more of a fan of chocolate chip cookies personally, but that was probably one of the best oatmeal cookies I've ever had! Thanks a bunch, Sugar!" Sugar was satisfied by that reply, and passed a friendly smile to Candy and Puff. "Would you like to try one as well?" Puff grinned eagerly and immediately took her up on her offer. "Ya, thank you." "Hey, we should all share our recipes and give critiques," Candy suggested. "I bet if we work together, we can make some pretty unforgettable confections." "Sounds like fun!" Pinkie chirped. "Here's to friends! And a whole year of fun, fun, fun!" She held another one of Sugar's cookies up in the air, and Candy, Puff, and Sugar all did likewise. "To friends!"