Pinkie Pie once visited a fortune teller. It was during the time between when she left her family’s rock farm, and found residence and a surrogate family in Ponyville. They had met on the road, while Pinkie was still trying to work out how maps worked, and Pinkie had asked for directions. This fortune teller told Pinkie that she would only be able to bake only one good, edible pie in her life. She could not tell when, or for what purpose that Pinkie would bake said pie, but the fact remained that Pinkie would be unable to make an actually edible pie, no matter how hard she tried.
Pinkie Pie, being Pinkie Pie, snorted, called the fortune teller a silly filly, and attempted to make a pie in the kitchen of the travelling wagon. Pinkie managed to burn the wagon down, and was then forced to spend two years apprenticed to a fortune teller to repay the damage.
But this is the story of The Pie. The one Pie that Pinkie Pie would make that would not be burnt, inedible or explode upon removal from the oven. The singular Pie that Pinkie would make that would be edible and presumably delicious.
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It was a Wednesday morning, and Pinkie Pie was stuck alone in Sugarcube Corner. Mister and Missus Cake were on a trip to Baltimare to visit a family friend, and had left Pinkie Pie in charge of the shop for the duration.
Outside, Pinkie Pie could see that Rainbow Dash was clearing up the remnants of the previous night’s spring storm. From her position at the counter, Pinkie could see many, Many mud puddles that needed to be jumped in, but Pinkie’s middle name was ‘Responsibility’, and she couldn’t let the Cakes down. So instead, Pinkie decided that she was going to try and bake a pie. It was a quiet day, after all, as the weather patrol had scheduled intermittent showers for today, so most ponies were staying indoors today.
And just to prove her point, Rainbow Dash kicked a small group of clouds into dumping their contents right over the main market square of Ponyville, and that included Sugarcube Corner.
In the kitchen, Pinkie gathered ingredients for a blueberry pie. Blueberries, check. Sugar (not too much), check. Pastry, check. Today was the day, Pinkie could feel it. Today was the day that she finally made The Pie. The pie that would be edible and delicious, and then Pinkie would make another one that was also edible and delicious.
Because Pinkie Pie really wanted to bake delicious pies for her friends, not just have pie tins filled with cream to smack into each other’s faces.
The oven dinged, and Pinkie Pie leaned down, and with the aid of a towel, pulled the pie out and placed it on the counter top. It looked perfect. The crust was golden, it smelled delicious and it had yet to explode. It was The Pie.
Pinkie sliced in ever so delicately. The smell of the berries and all of the filling wafted up, bringing an instant flood of saliva to her mouth, more than any amount of frosting ever had.
Just as Pinkie was about to taste her singularly perfect creation, Rarity slammed open the door, soaked to the bone, her mane dyed every colour of the rainbow, and grumbling something about Rainbow Dash.
“Pinkie, my dear, would you terribly mind if I borrowed that pie? I need to teach Rainbow Dash that ruining a lady’s looks is an utterly abhorrent thing to do. Even if it is amusing.”
Pinkie sighed, and pushed The Pie towards Rarity, who smiled a beautifully wicked smile, and snagged a can of whipped cream on her way out, beginning to squirt the contents liberally over the pie.
“Oh Rainbow Dash,” sung Rarity, as she trotted out of the bakery, “I have a present for you.”
Moments later, Pinkie Pie heard the signature sound of a pie slamming into a pony’s face. Then there was some arguing, and the Pinkie couldn’t hear anything for a while.
Poking her head out and around the door of Sugarcube Corner, she caught sight of a rainbow and a purple tail vanishing around a corner, and an empty pie tin lying in the street.
Pinkie sighed, and went back into the kitchen, to see if she could replicate what she had done.
Her next pie exploded the minute she pulled it out of the oven.