Walking out from the front entrance, Mr. and Mrs. Cake were rather surprised by the sight of a large crowd that had gathered. Sugarcube Corner would not be open for at least a couple hours yet, but it was almost as if Pinkie Pie was about to unveil her entry for this year’s National Dessert Competition. Instead, what they found was probably just as shocking.
Sitting on the steps, a white-skinned individual with tan hands, feet, face, and a large v-shaped section over his torso, along with a green head with large black eyes on the top, passionately played a white recorder out his nose, repetitively playing the same motif from the classic Edward Elger composition. Flexing his large, godlike muscles beside him was a virtually naked human male, save for the small, tight, patterned red underpants shielding the world from his sexy bits, and sexy he certainly was.
“What in the world is going on today?” Mr. Cake commented, listening with a cringe as the green-headed musician hit the high note once again.
Red Dick appeared beside him and motioned to them with his outstretched hand.
“Salamander Man,” he said, his English far more fluent, but still noticeably strained, “Prometheus.”
From the back of the crowd, unbeknownst to the bakery owners, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo came walking in, also looking quite perplexed over the crowd that had formed around such odd, but beautiful, entertainment.
“What in the heck’s goin’ on?” Apple Bloom queried.
“I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle said, nervousness in her voice, “but if all these people are here to get into Sugarcube Corner, there’s no way we’ll be able to get in my order for my birthday party.”
“Relax, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle responded, “Pinkie Pie wouldn’t ditch us like that! I’m sure the second she sees us, she’ll make us priority numero uno.”
“I guess you’re right. But still, why are there so many ponies out here?”
As they began squeezing further towards the front, Salamander Man and Prometheus continued their wonderful routine. By this time, ponies trying to get a move on with their respective days had trouble getting around the crowd that had gathered. Pink Guy appeared around the side of the bakery, watching from out-of-sight as he began to lock his eyes on Prometheus. Licking his lips with intent most cheeky, he slunk like a crab around the building making his way to the chiseled human perfection.
Finally, he became visible to the gathering crowd, and before Mr. Cake could see him and shoo him away, Pink Guy slapped Prometheus on the shoulder. Though every nerve in his body was padded with layers of compressed man beef, Prometheus turned to face Pink Guy, who waved at him like a man with MS whose crutches had disappeared.
“Batsu!” he squeaked, shaking his balled up fist. “Batsu, batsu.”
Prometheus was wary of Pink Guy ever since he defeated his creator in a similar game, but if there was anything that he would never ever turn away, it was a good old fashioned batsu game. With their fists held out before each other, they began it, much to the intrigue of the audience.
“Saisho wa gu,” they both chanted, thrusting their hands down to the rhythm, “janken hoi!”
Both of their hands opened up flat. A draw. Of course, this would never end there.
“Aiko desho!” they chanted again, and with another shake, their hands changed.
Prometheus’s hand was balled back up while Pink Guy’s was flat again.
“Yaheah!” Pink Guy bellowed with a pumped fist to his side.
Without even thinking about it, Pink Guy grabbed hold of Prometheus’s waistband and pulled his underpants down.
“Now we can see what the hubbub is abou-” Apple Bloom said to her friends as they made it to the front, only for a blinding light to emit from Prometheus’s crotch. All the ponies quickly turned away save for Sweetie Belle. She had already laid her eyes on it; there was no saving her now.
“So…” she mumbled, “lean…”
Prometheus quickly concealed himself once again while glaring at Pink Guy with enough intensity to cut through a month-old piece of taffy. Salamander Man ceased his nose recorder, knowing the hell Pink Guy had unleashed for himself. Red Dick was probably the most mortified of all; he knew his creation well, and it looked as though Pink Guy would expect more than a garbage bin to the back now.
With just one quick running step, Pink Guy shot away with Prometheus immediately following close. Salamander Man quickly and expertly moved his instrument squarely into his anus, and he began to play a far more daunting and complex melody.
The sudden chilling and exciting music brought a sense of purpose and hyperbolic humor to the chase the two of them were in. Pink Guy and Prometheus rounded the crowd twice before Pink Guy slid to a stop at the steps to Sugarcube Corner, and before the mass of pure muscle could charge him, Pink Guy crouched down and swiped his leg to the left, thrusting up with a double spinaroonie kick, just barely grazing by Prometheus’s chin. As Prometheus shifted back, Pink Guy went low on all fours, daring him to take another shot.
Prometheus lumbered forward, and Pink Guy shifted into crab stance, spun, and went for a more stationary handstand kick, but this time, the bulky homunculus was prepared. He caught Pink Guy by the ankle and swung him over his head and near the crowd. With a harder whip, Pink Guy was slammed into the ground, causing him to convulse in pain and the crowd to take a step back.
“So strong…” Sweetie Belle swooned with flesh-colored hearts in her eyes.
Almost immediately, Pink Guy stood to his feet with a satisfied grin on his face and bowed repeatedly at every angle toward the audience. Prometheus, also understanding his intent, gave a triumphant kneel and flex of his arms.
“Woohoo!” Scootaloo cheered.
With her declaration of admiration, the crowd were too goaded into cheering, but not Sweetie Belle. She was just far too enamored with Prometheus’s bulging… um, veins in his… arms. In a wide squat, Salamader Man’s face stretched in pride as he rubbed his nipples tenderly with his free fingers.
“Nyayess!” he exclaimed.
Mr. and Mrs. Cake were also astounded. Not so much for their show, but for how many of the townspeople they managed to rally.
“Are you opening soon?” called a stallion.
“We love the new mascots!” a mare called out.
It wasn’t exactly what they were looking for, but if these weirdos could generate ample business for them in Pinkie’s absence, all power to them.
“Uh,” called Mr. Cake, “we’ll be opening up in an hour as usual.”
“And be sure to try the newest cupcake recipe,” Mrs Cake added, “made by... uh, Red Dick!”
Red Dick waved to the crowd, and they applauded and roared in response. With really nothing else to do, the crowd dispersed, finding a way to kill an hour before their eventual return.
“Well,” Apple Bloom said with a raised eyebrow of uncertainty, “that was something else.”
“I’ll say…” breathed Sweetie Belle, still staring right at Prometheus as he reconvened with Salamander Man and Red Dick.
“Hey, girls!” Mr. Cake called, trotting up to them with his wife. “So good to see you!”
“Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” Scootaloo replied. “Where’s Pinkie Pie?”
“Oh, about that…” Such news would be very hard to break. “Pinkie Pie had to run up north on very short notice, and I don’t think she’ll be managing your birthday party anymore.”
“What?” Apple Bloom blurted. “Well that stinks!”
“Oh, don’t worry!” Mrs. Cake assured them. “We will help with everything, and I guarantee your party will be just as fun as if she was here.”
“What about them?” Sweetie Belle slurred, her eyes pointed at the Lycrans and homunculus. “Are theyyy coming?”
“Really?” Apple Bloom wondered. “They seem a little… weird for your birthday party.”
“Yeah, that's just your opinion…”
“I don’t know,” Scootaloo added, her words aiming towards her yellow-filly friend. “They seemed to get the crowd going, plus, it’s her birthday, and if she wants them there, I don’t see who we are to not let them.”
Apple Bloom looked back at the four alien creatures, and they each gave a unique positive gesture as if they were characters on some slice-of-life anime.
“Alright,” Apple Bloom calmly relented. “I really can’t fight that reasoning.”
“Okay,” Mr. Cake guffawed, “please, go along now. We still need to get the store up and running for the day.”
“Alright, then,” Scootaloo said, carrying a romantically comatose Sweetie Belle away with Apple Bloom. “We have faith in you guys! See you tomorrow!”
“Bye bye!” he bid with a wave.
As he turned back to return to his bakery, he found Pink Guy up in his face, and he could not have looked prouder.
“Can IIIIII habedepuuuusi pls?” he coyly asked.
“I’m hungry, bitch. Feed me, lol.”
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With a fist full of gold bits, Pink Guy quickly ran toward the local hayburger shop on all fours. He squeezed into the door being held for somepony else and then stood back on his feet and set his sights straight for the cashier, who already had half a dozen ponies waiting for their own turns at a meal.
‘HAYBURGER PLS!!” Pink Guy screeched, alerting every soul inside the establishment. “CAN i HABE HAYBURGER PLS!”
“Mommy,” a colt wept as he turned towards his mother.
Luckily, the manager, a fat, greasy stallion was behind the counters, and witnessed as the pink creature in his shop was visibly getting more antsy and anxious the more it waited.
“Get this thing a hayburger so it can leave!”
Immediately, a greasy paper bag was put on the counter, which was then promptly levitated by a unicorn cashier and to Pink Guy. He nonchalantly pulled the paper-wrapped burger out of the bag, which he let drop to the floor. After examining it, he looked back up to the manager with a mildly offended stare.
“Ey b0ss, fuq u, mang!” he said, flipping him off.
“I got a party to prepare for, I don’t have time for your shit.”
With a graceless turn back, Pink Guy whipped and frisbeed his sandwhich into the glass window-walls. Much to the horror and sheer disgust of the viewers, the pieces of burger flew out of the shattered paper, most of it on the floor, some of it smearing down the window. As if he even couldn’t believe what he had done, Pink Guy bawled very loud and sprinted out of the store while wiping his eyes with his hands. Everypony was just speechless.
“I don’t get payed enough for this,” the unicorn cashier said.
“You and me both, kid,” the mananger quipped back.
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Mrs. Cake and Red Dick worked together in the kitchen. As Red Dick whipped up bowls and bowls of batter and frosting, Mrs. Cake would set the frosting aside and moved the batter into the cupcake tins with a rubber spatula. Once a tin was filled, Mr. Cake moved it to the ovens while Mrs. Cake moved the frosting to the fridge.
The spectacle Pink Guy and Prometheus had created had indeed generated a massive surge of business, with enough ponies inside the waiting area that neither the Cakes or Red Dick could see the entrance doorway. With a nod and smirk, Red Dick ate a stack of paper cupcake cups like pringles.
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Prometheus sat upon Pinkie Pie’s bed, her pet alligator Gummy clamped down on his right hand. With visible effort, he would stretch his hand out, prying Gummy’s mouth open. Prometheus himself in all his bodily perfection grit his teeth as he tried to match the alligator’s strength.
Salamander Man double timed it on his practicing. For 20 seconds, he would quickly play Hot Cross Buns twice on his nose recorder, and for another 20, he would move on to his assflute and play a moving piece by James Newton Howard, repeating the process over and over, sounding better and better with each change.
Pink Guy just heaved and humped to the rhythm of the beat of Salamander Man’s music. It was going smoothly, and in no time, they would be ready to give Sweetie Belle the greatest motherfucking birthday party she would ever experience.
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Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle was napping at home, the sweet thoughts of Prometheus making her writhe in anticipation.