"Alright, I've got a good one," Cadance put down her menu, grinning. "Pancakes, waffles, or french toast?"
"Cadance!" Luna gasped. "Do you wish to tear the universe asunder? To incite a three-way Equestrian Civil War?"
"Indeed." Celestia's eyes had grown wide. "That is perhaps the largest question I've heard. And that's coming from a mare who gets asked 'the meaning of life' on a daily basis. The answer I give them is the same I give you, dear niece..."
Celestia cleared her throat dramatically. "Waffles."
"Hm." Cadance sniffed. "I mean, it's a good choice, Auntie. It's wrong, though. Everypony knows that waffles pale in comparison to french toast."
"Oh, come now!" Celestia protested. "No sane pony could say that and not feel like a complete monster."
"Waffles are like accessory foods," Cadance replied, waving a hoof breezily. "Eating just a plain waffle for breakfast is like watching a crappy movie without friends to laugh with. It's a boring and lonely experience."
Celestia blinked. "You lost me."
"I mean, when do you ever eat a waffle without shoveling a bunch of sugary junk onto it, first? Nopony just serves waffles, straight. Shining Armor once did that when I was sick in bed, and I only half jokingly threatened him with divorce. So when you eat a waffle, you're not enjoying just the waffle. You're enjoying the waffle and all of its diabetes-inducing accessories."
"Hm." Celestia shrugged. "A good point. But then again... if a waffle is of poor quality, it at least has the capacity to be saved from being an unflavourful disaster. You could buy the saddest toaster waffles in the universe, but with whip-cream and syrup, they are still incredible. But a poor piece of french-toast? With its gross, goopy egg taste? It is unsalvegable."
"Well, you can still put fruit onto crappy french toast."
"Yes, but you can put anything onto waffles. Whip-cream, chocolate, fruit. They're like a cake but as a breakfast food—you can do anything with them and it works. They are versatile, whereas one who eats french toast is bound by the whims of the eggs. The eggs make or break the experience."
"You heathens," Luna brought a hoof to her temples. "You poor, misguided fools."
She said nothing further.
"Uh... did we break Luna?" Cadance blinked. "Is she gonna go Nightmare on us or something?"
Celestia was shocked, too. "Uh, Luna? Your opinion?"
"You two are so materialistic. So bound by your arbitrary, petty little beliefs of what constitutes quality. Somewhere along the lines of your lives, after experiencing every frivolous and exaggerated luxury set out before you, you forgot how to simply be mares."
"Luna, are you going to give us an opinion or not?" Cadance groaned.
"Pancakes!" she exclaimed. "There is no other choice! The most humble, and yet the most delectable. Ponies seem to believe that it is necessary to turn breakfast into some experience, and as such pancakes are shoved at the bottom of restaurant menus, beneath their more flashy and impressive brethren. The pancake lurks calmly and humbly at the bottom of the menu. It is proud of what it is—the epitome of breakfast. The representation of morning, of a new dawn. And yet it respects itself enough to simply be itself. It does not need to leech onto some sugary saccharine to give itself worth."
Her piece said, Luna leaned back and brought her breakfast menu back up, concealing her from the other two mares.
Celestia and Cadance were shell-shocked.
"That... was the most poetic rant about pancakes I have ever had the privilege of hearing," Cadance said finally.
"That was beautiful." Celestia agreed. "I have goosebumps."
Luna dropped the menu triumphantly, just as the diner's waitress stopped at their table wearing her trademark exaggerated grin.
"Are you three ready to order?"
"Pancakes, for me and my niece, Sunny Side." Celestia smiled. "Luna?"
"I'll have the crepes, please."