“Twiliiighhht”
Twilight’s ear twitched, but she continued reading. She had ignored every shred of the outside in favor of prose on Sumareian customs for this long, she could simply continue doing it. The harvest festival tradition was brillant, she could just picture it in her mind.
“Twilight!”
Twilight’s brow furrowed, a mild reproach to the noisome nature of the non-textual world. She pictured ponies singing, dancing, harvesting oats and hay as a community… not that much different from Winter Wrap Up actually, but all Ancient Sumareian. Twilight called up what she knew of dress and technology in that era, racked her brain for the fragments of Sumareian language she knew to puzzle out what they might say as her eyes traveled down the page.
And all of a sudden, the page started to slip from her vision, words collapsing on themselves as the page tipped backwards out of her vision. She tried to steady the book, but a purple claw firmly pushed it down to the bed, staying it there as she attempted to wrest it back into place. Finally she looked up petulantly into the green eyes of her assistant.
“I was almost done with the chapter.” she said.
“Twilight, that book doesn’t have chapters.” Spike replied. “Besides, you’ve been reading in bed the whole day.” He used the claw that wasn’t holding her book hostage to indicate a stack of books that Twilight now vaguely remembered reading. "There’s no food, and I’m hungry, and I’m sure that by now you are too.”
Now that Spike mentioned it, Twilight did indeed feel a fire in the pit of her stomach, which growled at the thought of food. Her ears folded back in embarrassment. “Fine.” she said. “We’ll go out for something quick, and get some to-go too...” she was already planning for having enough food to finish the evening. Seeing the knowing look in her assistant’s eyes, she was struck with a sudden and generous inspiration. “And then we’ll go to Sugarcube Corner afterwards, my treat!” Spike perked up at this, his shadowed look disappearing almost immediately.
Much later, being able to finish not just the section on harvest festivals, but also the whole book and also maybe the one on Sumareian agriculture later, Twilight was still in the middle of Ponyville, walking from Hay & Oats to Sugarcube Corner and just thinking about reading them. Her legs felt kind of sore, and her belly overfull after eating a couple courses at H&O. So she walked slowly, careful not to disturb the several other meals packed into her saddlebags as Spike ran up ahead, then waited for her.
“C’mon, c’mon,” the little dragon tugged at her neck. “I’m gonna get an apple pastry, with the fancy frosting. Just the thing after kale chips and spaghetti!” he licked his lips with a long forked tongue. “C’mon, before they close!”
As it was, they got there just before Sugarcube Corner was about to close, though even if they’d gotten there late, the clerk on duty would likely have opened right back up to chat to her friend.
“Heya, Twilight, Spike!” said Pinkie, using the broom she’d been sweeping with to vault over the counter and land on the other side. “Having fun with your booksearching?” she leaned over the display case.
“Oh, ah, yeah.” replied Twilight. Spike just gave a grunt and began greedily perusing the sweets being displayed behind the counter. Twilight wondered if there was ever a Sumareian mare quite so pink as Pinkie Pie. She didn’t even properly know what coat colors belonged to that era, but she was pretty sure that there were more colors now than back when equines were just horses.
…
“So, whatcha having?” Pinkie’s voice startled Twilight out of her reverie. Both Spike and Pinkie were looking at her, Spike already holding one of the bags the Cakes used for to-go orders.
“Oh, ah...” said Twilight, perusing the selection. Was there any color a pony couldn’t be? “I’ll just, umm… choose after.” she thought back to the books waiting for her.
“What? Silly, you can’t choose after, you have to choose now! Spike’s already chosen, and it’s almost time to close.” Pinkie twisted her forehooves together in what was probably a pantomime of a clock. Her voice took on a booming announcer-like tone “Any of these desserts could be yours, so… what… will… you… chooosse?” she brought her hoof toward Twilight’s face and waited for an answer.
Twilight looked at all the choices, and a lump settled in her throat. There was no way she could choose between all these delectable options, not when all she wanted was to be back home reading. “Oh, I dunno, I’ll… stop by tomorrow?” It was really unfortunate, Twilight thought, that she couldn’t just make the decision whenever. Then, she’d decide, say, after finishing a treatise on evolution of agricultural methods, on the chocolate one and *poof* there it would be. Delicious.
Pinkie’s expectant expression melted into an exaggerated disheartened frown. “That won’t do!” she replied. “Here, have a sweet bun at least. And work on your choosing skills, gosh!” she stuck out her tongue in a friendly manner before ushering Twilight and Spike out of the shop. “See you Tuesday, right?”
“Ah… right.” said Twilight, trying to remember what was happening on Tuesday, but Pinkie was already back inside Sugarcube Corner. Twilight ate the bun, which was a bit bland and had no chocolate portion, as she and Spike walked home contentedly.
Several hours later, Twilight rolled over on her bed and sighed after finishing the book on Sumareian agriculture. She was hungry again, but this time, fortunately, she’d planned ahead. She unwrapped the Holsteiner sauce sandwich she’d nabbed from H&O and hungrily bit into it. A few halfhearted chews and a swallow and she made a face and set it down. It was soggy. Really soggy. Inedibly soggy. She unwrapped the other meals, which had suffered similar fates. Crushed, mushy, runny, none of them were anything like what they’d been only hours before. Her appetite ruined, Twilight couldn’t even bring herself to pick up the book on Sumareian law. Instead, she went to bed, focusing on the unfairness of it all.
Sugarcube Corner opened just before noon, just in case there was anypony who wanted an early treat. Generally, though, it didn’t get any customers before an hour or so after noon. So, it was mildly surprising when Pinkie opened the door on a wildly smiling and excited looking Twilight.
“Oh… hey Twilight!” said Pinkie, cracking into a smile too. “Here to finally make your choice? You sure look excited about it!”
Twilight looked slightly bemused, and a slew of words tumbled from her mouth “Oh, no, Pinkie. I’m not here to make a choice, I’m here to prevent anypony from ever having to, ever again. You see, I was thinking last night, with the bun and the dishes I got to-go, why couldn’t a pony be able to have the meal they wanted, when they wanted? So I got up this morning and I was like ‘Twilight, you’re an intelligent magic user, fix this!’ So I did.”
Pinkie just looked at her friend, trying to keep too much of her concern from showing on her face.
“So, here, I present… the future!” said Twilight, realizing that she was losing her audience’s interest. “The Fabulous Food Facsimile Fabricator Mark 4!”
“Oh..” said Pinkie, who had expected something far worse to emerge from the depths of her friend’s psyche. “What does it do?”
Twilight… giggled? laughed? It kind of sounded like one of those two things… “Here, let me show you! Put one of those desserts in it. That chocolate one!”
Pinkie picked up the indicated pastry, and placed it gingerly into the open door of the device. Twilight slammed the door and pressed some buttons. Lights flashed, dancing over the pastry through a tiny glass window in the side. Then it stopped. Twilight motioned for Pinkie to open the door. She did so carefully, then reached out and took the pastry, examining it.
“It’s… the same?” Pinkie looked questioningly at Twilight, who just gave another... laugh?
“That’s only the start!” the purple mare crowed. She punched a few more buttons and lights danced again over the empty interior. Pinkie opened the door again, and peered inside, then back to the pastry in her hoof. “They’re… the same?”
“There are TWO!” cried Twilight. “Now, if I want this pastry, all I have to do is press some buttons. This is an end to need, an end to hunger! Ponies everywhere will be able to eat what they want, when they want, where they want! It’s a bold new future, a new, better Equestria! It’s GENIUS!” Twilight stopped, panting from exertion. She’d reared up during her speech, and settled back, smiling mildly and waiting for a reply from her friend.
Pinkie took several long moments to stare at the machine, wondering how to word what she had to say next in words that were opaque enough for Twilight. “Ah… that’s… that’s great. But… Twilight?”
“Yes?” Twilight asked.
“Did you think that the Cakes, that nopony tried this earlier? You see… the little known truth is...” Pinkie span her wheels “All food made from magic is… is… a deadly poison!” There, that ought to do it. Not even Twilight messed with deadly poison.
Twilight no longer looked triumphant. In fact, she now looked rather upset. “Deadly poison?” she asked. Pinkie nodded vigorously. “But… but… I used this on pancakes this morning! Am I going to die? Why didn’t anypony tell me!”
Pinkie rushed to her friend’s side to keep her from crying. “There, there, I mean… it’s okay to eat a little bit but… it builds up in your system, and, ah, can’t be gotten out!” Twilight sniffled. “You’re probably fine, so long as you don’t eat anything from that nasty machine ever again!” Twilight still looked sad. “Tell you what, it’s not a big deal for most ponies, but you’re a princess, and you deserve better. I’ll see if we can’t get food delivered directly to you!”
Twilight sniffed. “Really?”
“Really really!” replied Pinkie.
“Oh Pinkie,” said Twilight, “thank you. I don’t know what I was thinking, doing something like that. I’m the element of magic, I should know better than anypony how dangerous magic is.”
“No problem,” said Pinkie. “No problem.”
When Twilight left, Pinkie dived behind the counter and lifted the walkie-talkie to her mouth.
“Pink Hog calling Apple Farm, Pink Hog calling Apple Farm, surprise Red taken to Yellow by yours truly. I’m going to need resources for cleanup. Infrastructure should be able to handle it. Over.”
Across the line came the voice of her friend Applejack “Big Orange calling Pink Hog, thank you Pink Hog, the AFM thanks you for what sounds like a quick save on your part. You’ll have to tell us the whole story in pony at tonight’s meetin. Over.”