Robots Are Not Viable Cupcake Ingredients

by blayzekohime


This Better Not Be Another Parody

The air was warm, the sun was shining, and everypony in Ponyville was having a glorious day. The town square was bustling and crowded, and busy ponies filled the streets. All the pony folk seemed to have somewhere specific to be. All except...

No, even Sweetie Belle had somewhere to be. She had promised Pinkie Pie that she would visit her at Sugarcube Corner today, and she needed to leave immediately. It had just turned 14:52, and it took 7 minutes and 29 seconds to walk from Rarity’s Boutique to Sugarcube Corner. She knew that she needed to get going quickly lest she miss her appointment at 15:00 hours. Sweetie never missed an appointment.

She wasn’t sure what Pinkie Pie needed, but it must have been important. On top of that, Pinkie had specifically requested that she not bring friends, family, or the authorities with her when she arrived. That meant it must be a task that only Sweetie Belle can perform, and that made her feel special.

Sweetie Belle stopped at the door to Sugarcube Corner, stood there a few more seconds, and walked into the store at exactly 3 PM. She was immediately greeted by her host, who was bouncing in excitement as if she couldn’t stop.

“Yay, you’re here!” Pinkie said, “I’ve been waiting aaaaall day.” Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. She was even bouncier than usual.

Sweetie became concerned, “Is your internal timing device malfunctioning?”

“Now that you – what?” Pinkie ceased bouncing for a moment.

“You specified that you have waited for me an entire day,” explained Sweetie, “Or is my internal timing device malfunctioning? Am I late?”

“Um, no,” Pinkie giggled and started to bounce once again, “You’re here on time! I was just so excited that I couldn’t wait to wait for you! I’ve been soooo excited thinking about all the fun stuff we’re gonna do, I haven’t stopped bouncing since I woke up. I mean, I almost forgot to breathe I’ve been so happy!”

“If you do not breathe for more than four hours, please consult a physician,” Sweetie advised helpfully.

“I—“ Pinkie paused again, but for less time this time. She started the bouncing again almost immediately, “You’re silly!”

“Negative,” disagreed Sweetie, as politely as she could, “The ‘bSilly’ parameter is currently set equal to false. This setting has been made constant at the request of Rarity to prevent further damage to myself and others.” She began to grow more concerned: either she or Pinkie must be malfunctioning badly, and she couldn’t ascertain who it was. “Performing diagnostics... Please wait.”

“So you ready to get st-“

“Diagnostics ten percent complete, please wait,” Sweetie cut her off.

“Um, so are you ready to-“ Pinkie tried again.

“Diagnostics nineteen percent complete, please wait,” Sweetie cut her off again.

“Ooookaaaay...” Pinkie didn’t stop bouncing this time, though she did bounce 75.5% slower than previously.

She stared at Sweetie Belle as the little one stared into nothingness. Were her eyes spinning? That didn’t seem right to Pinkie Pie. On the other hoof, it wasn’t more random than most of what she did. Pinkie decided to wait it out. She finally sat on her bottom and stopped bouncing. She laughed uncomfortably and scratched the back of her head with one hoof.

“Diagnostics complete,” Sweetie finally blurted out as her eyes momentarily dilated and returned to their previous adora-cute state, “Oil levels are 5.6% below advisable levels. Reminder: Please do not use a lit match or open flame to check oil levels.”

“Yeah, and don’t hold the wrong end of a chainsaw!” Pinkie jested, and tried to convince herself that Sweetie was joking as well.

“Affirmative,” Sweetie responded simply, and continued to stare at Pinkie as if waiting further instructions.

Pinkie cleared her throat and started to bounce, slower than before, “So um... you ready to get started, Sweetie Belle? I’ve got everything aaall ready!”

“Affirmative,” replied Sweetie, “Please commence fun procedures immediately. You have sixty seconds to comply.”

“WE’RE MAKING CUPCAKES!” Pinkie happily announced.

Sweetie processed that for a moment and tilted her head slightly, “We are manufacturing food? Warning: Previous attempts at this procedure has resulted in liquefied toast.“

“Oh that’s not a problem at all,” Pinkie explained, “I only need your help making them. I’ll be doing most of the work.”

Sweetie considered this. With only four seconds to spare before she started attack mode due to non-compliance, she decided to see if Pinkie’s cooking methods would result in a higher level of fun than her own attempts. “Proceed.”

“That’s the spirit, here you go!” Pinkie hoofed over a cupcake to Sweetie Belle.

“Your previous statement indicated an intention to produce new cupcakes,” said Sweetie, “Devouring cupcakes is counter-productive to this goal.” After a pause she added, “Also: Eating gives me indigestion.”

“Oh we’ll be baking them too,” Pinkie smiled, “I made this one just for you before you got here.”

“Do you wish me to analyze its composition to reduce the probability of liquefying toast?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Sorta,” Pinkie said.

Sweetie Belle reached out to take the cupcake. She popped the pastry in her mouth and carefully disassembled it with her teeth for analysis. Searching... flour... salt... baking pouder... butter... eggs... pegasus... milk... rohypnol... Sweetie had believed there to be a zero percent chance of finding rohypnol in a cupcake. Pinkie must have been trying a new recipe; Sweetie would have to re-adjust that probability after fun procedures with Pinkie were complete. Finally, Sweetie swallowed it down.

“Analysis complete,” Sweetie said, “Probability minimized. Please provide further instructions.”

“Now,” Pinkie informed her, “You take a nap.”

“Nap time is already scheduled for 2 hours, 42 minutes, and 17 seconds from now,” informed Sweetie right back, “Additionally, Rarity is required to complete sub-routine ‘tucking in’. Should I retrieve her?”

Pinkie stared for a few more seconds, unsure of what to do for perhaps the first time in her life. She had only made one of the special cupcakes. Who would have thought she needed more than one for a filly? This had never happened.

“You’re not even a little sleepy?” Pinkie hopefully asked. “I um... No, don’t get Rarity... her name didn’t come up.” Not for lack of trying, Pinkie had put her name in the hat at least six times. Hmm, how to do this... that’s it! “Hey Sweetie Belle! Want to play hide and seek? Close your eyes and count to 1000. When you're done, come look for me!”

“The standard value to increment to during this procedure is ten,” Sweetie advised, “Are you suffering from a damaged cloaking device?”

“Um, yes,” Pinkie wasn’t sure what that meant, but rolled with it, “I will need... a bit longer than usual to um... successfully hide... um... procedure... whatever...”

“Affirmative,” Sweetie responded. This sounded more fun than baking at least “Commencing counting procedure.” She closed her eyes and began to count, “Integer i equals one. While i is less than or equal to 1000... Commencing... ++... ++...++...++”

Oh well, this would have to do. Pinkie picked her up and attempted to drape the little one across her back for carrying, though it took a while to position her correctly. Sweetie’s limbs were surprisingly difficult to move and creaked rather oddly when forced. Poor thing must have some kind of a bone disorder.

Pinkie trotted over to the stairwell with Sweetie on her back and pushed downward on a secret button on the end of the railing. There were a few clicks, and a trap door opened directly under Pinkie's hooves. It dropped both her and Sweetie into the top-secret party lair. The door closed above her, and Pinkie hummed a tune as she went to turn on the lights.

It was a bit awkward to strap Sweetie Belle down, as it required more forcing of the limbs, and Pinkie wasn’t sure how many times Sweetie had said '++' at this point. She finally managed to get things done, dimming the lights when finished with the restraints. She waited for Sweetie to complete her 'counting procedure'.

“Whether you have adequately prepared or not,” Sweetie finally said, “I will commence search procedure.” She opened her eyes and her pupils shifted them back and forth to look around the room. She began to worry again. Had she accidentally hidden herself as she counted? Was she malfunctioning that badly?

Pinkie jumped suddenly into her line of sight, “Goodie, you’re awake. Now we can get started!” Pinkie stated gleefully.

“Target located,” blurted out Sweetie Belle, “Search procedure complete in 4.6 seconds. Please be advised: It is now your turn to count. Preparing to activate cloaking device.”

Sweetie patiently waited for Pinkie to close her eyes and count. Instead, Pinkie bounded into the darkness, quickly re-appearing with a small cart covered with a cloth.

Pinkie smiled at Sweetie, though her smile faltered a bit when Sweetie didn’t make even the slightest effort to struggle. She tried to tell herself that Sweetie was simply a bit slow in her realization. Surely she’d be terrified in a few more minutes. So Pinkie waited.

Hmmm, this was a bit unusual. Pinkie liked to wait for them to say they can’t move. She could use a funny comment like ‘Duh, it’s cause you’re tied down.’ to catch them off guard. Hm... no, it’s fine. Just roll with it. Surely in only a few moments...

“Information: You should proceed to deactivate your vision and increment from one to ten,” Sweetie finally stated, apparently still patiently waiting for Pinkie to start counting. “I only require ten seconds to comply.”

“Um, we’re not doing that now,” Pinkie chuckled awkwardly. “We’re um, we’re back to making cupcakes again. That’s why you’re TIED. DOWN.” She wasn't certain that Sweetie realized that such was the case.

Sweetie had never needed to be tied down to bake something, “You are using an unknown recipe. Please be advised that the probability of me successfully assisting with this procedure is has been decreased from 76 to 34 percent.”

“Um, no, you’re doing fine,” assured Pinkie, “You are helping! You see, I ran out of the special ingredient and I need you to get more.”

“Do you require additional rohypnol?” asked Sweetie Belle, as she knew the rohypnol was the rarest ingredient that she had discovered in the demo Cupcake. “Searching... currently there are no known locations to find this ingredient... commencing apology sub-routine. I AM SO SORRY I COULD NOT HELP!”

Pinkie’s eyes went larger as she took a moment to shake her head about. “No no no no no no no...“ Pinkie explained, “It’s you! YOU are the special ingredient!” Okay. Surely Sweetie Belle would panic now, right?

“Affirmative,” Sweetie Belle responded. “Rarity often references me as a special ingredient to express her affection. Activing gratitude.... THANK YOU!... installing Pinkie to heart drive... However please be advised you will only be rationed 12.5% as much love quotient as Rarity.”

“That’s... fine,” Pinkie trailed off for a bit, before adding, “You’re... not going to think this is a prank or... anything? Not even a little bit funny or... not able to believe yourself maybe?”

Sweetie’s face immediately contorted with a look so sad and adorable that it caused physical pain. Pinkie cringed, taking several steps back as if she’d been punched in the face.

“You... do not really love me?” asked Sweetie Belle. “Preparing stages of grief. Activating stage one in 3...2...”

“No!” Pinkie said defensively, “I mean yes! I love you! Please don’t look like that I...” wait, why did she care what she looked like? Damnit Pinkie! Get a hold of yourself! “Ahahahahaha!” Pinkie laughed maniacally, trying desperately to get herself back into ‘the mood’.

Sweetie stared, “Your laughter circuits appear to be malfunctioning. Advice: have your emotional database re-optimized. My sister may be able to assist you in locating an adequate therapist to assist.”

Pinkie stared again, “I am in full working order, YOU on the other hoof, are about to be in full non-working order!” She yanked the cloth off of the cart next to her. On the cart was a tray containing various sharp medical tools and knives, carefully organized and wickedly sharp, as well as a large medical bag and several other items.

Sweetie Belle carefully analyzed the tools. These were highly unusual cooking implements, yet Pinkie had clearly stated that she was operating at maximum efficiency. Could it be that Sweetie was the one malfunctioning? But it couldn’t be... the only problem she had found during her diagnostic was a slightly low oil level. Could it be that it was having a greater effect than normal?

Aha! Sweetie’s eyes zeroed in on a bottle on one corner of the tray, with the words ‘Astroglide lubricant’ labeled prominently on the front. Sweetie had never encountered this brand of oil before, so she wasn’t sure how effective it would be or how much she would need. It was what was available though, so she had to chance it.

Sweetie moved her hoof to the tray, the shackle that had been holding that hoof to the iron table snapping and clattering to the floor after resisting for only a few seconds. She stuck her hoof against the lubricant and picked it up with her sticky hoof. She turned it up, quite literally stuffing the bottle into her throat and pouring it right in without swallowing.

“That is not for that hole,” Pinkie deadpanned. It was the most deadpan she had ever been; it would have made her favorite sister proud, “Why are you drinking that.” She very awkwardly reached her own hoof up, pulling the bottle away and placing it back on the tray. “Stop it.”

“Re-checking levels,” said Sweetie, “Overfill detected. Preparing to expel excess. You have five seconds to evacuate the target zone.”

“What,” Pinkie deadpanned again, shortly before lubrication and a few spare chunks of chewed but undigested cupcake were spewed all over her face.

“Levels now within acceptable parameters,” Sweetie helpfully confirmed when she was done.

As Pinkie wiped the goo from her face, her eyes fell on the broken metal cuff on the floor, before slowly moving back up to Sweetie’s freed hoof. The events of the last few moments were so weird that she didn’t even notice until that point.

“I... could you wait here for a moment?” Pinkie asked her eyes growing wide and nervous.

“Please define the time span referred to as ‘a moment,’” Sweetie asked for clarity.

“Um, fifteen minutes or so... yeah, be right back...” Pinkie took a few steps back before suddenly turning and running away.

A few moments later, she returned with a length of chain, wrapping the entire length around Sweetie Belle at least a dozen times, making sure that all her limbs were securely fastened this time. At least she certainly hoped they were. She grumbled to herself, “I’m starting to think I’m in the wrong fanfic. Again. This better not be another damn parody.”

Sweetie Belle waited patiently for Pinkie to complete her additional security measures, not seeming concerned with the situation any more than before.

“There,” panted Pinkie Pie.

“Negative,” disagreed Sweetie Belle, “One minute and seventeen seconds remain for ‘moment’ to be completed as previously defined.”

“Well... I guess my bondage efficiency is greater than anticipated,” Pinkie rolled her eyes. She once again tried to sway things in the direction she wanted, “Anyway, ahem. I’m so happy that I’ve got you here. We get to share your last moments together, just you and me!” Pinkie skipped back over to the tray of goodies. “You think I won’t do it? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? You think I can’t GET AWAY WITH IT? How long do you think I’ve been doing this?” And with that, she flipped a nearby switch, fully lighting the room.

The room was decorated with a typical but twisted Pinkie Pie flair. Colorful streamers of dried...

...
...

It was really scary, okay?


“Scary?” Pinkie demanded, “Really? That’s it? Nothing about the organs, bones, or severed heads? And not even mentioning my outfit made from pony parts?” Suddenly the horrifying realization came to her, abject terror spreading over her face and her body shaking violently, “Is... is this a 'safe' fanfic?!”

She turned around, hyperventilating as she glared at Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie Belle had tiny hearts where her pupils should have been, “You activated a surprise party maneuver just for me? You have been allotted 17.2% as much love as Rarity!” That much love was a rare honor indeed.

“NO!” screamed Pinkie, “Stop being cute! Stop it! I'm going to cut you up, make a frilly dress from your pelt, and give it to your floozy sister for Hearth’s Warming Eve! This @#$#ing story will have blood in it if it’s the last thing I do!” She paused before she added in an even louder scream of rage, “I’m being @#$#@ing censored too? I will not stand for this!”

Lost in rage, Pinkie grabbed the sharpest blade from the tray, drew back her hoof, and violently stabbed Sweetie right on her forehead.

Clink.

Pinkie blinked. She drew back her hoof again and again, stabbing furiously. “Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!... maybe at least feel a little pain or something?”

Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.

Desperate, Pinkie rammed the blade against Sweetie’s horn, trying to pry it right out of her head.

“Advice: A frilly dress is not an effective gift for my sister. She manufactures her own clothing. Suggestion: Chocolate has a 92% chance of resulting in the activation of her pleasure routine.” Sweetie was trying her best to be helpful. She looked upward at what Pinkie was doing, “Are you performing maintenance?”

“No!” screamed Pinkie, throwing the knife across the room in fury. “You... dgasdkeas... AHHHHH!”

Pinkie staggered across the room, knocking over several of her finely crafted chairs that could not be described, and popping several unmentionable balloons in the process. She opened a box on the far end of the room, pulling out a chainsaw with a wicked blade, bright red colored with little star, rainbow, and heart stickers all over it.

“I’m gonna go Dave Davey on your cute little butt!” Pinkie screeched, pulling the starter cord. The chainsaw buzzed to life.

Pinkie charged across the room, Sweetie’s somewhat confused but relatively calm expression only angering her more. She slammed the chainsaw down, attempting to slice Sweetie right down the middle, but there were only sparks, followed by her slipping with the chainsaw, the ridiculously deadly blade slicing right through all the chains that had been holding the victim down, but glanced off of her body harmlessly aside from a bit of fur getting cut.

“Do you require assistance?” Sweetie Belle asked curiously, “I am concerned that you may be having a fatal error. Please consider shutting down and restarting. Defragmenting your heart drive may also be advisable.”

“I can’t help it! This is the only way I know of showing love!” screamed Pinkie in desperation.

“Do you also possess love routines for Rarity?” Sweetie Belle asked with even more concern. "Request: Please do not perform routine 'showing love' while in the vicinity of Rarity.

Pinkie lunged with the chainsaw again, this time against Sweetie’s neck, sparks flying and the chainsaw grinding in protest as its blade was rapidly dulled. Pinkie wouldn’t stop though. She was determined to... FINALLY! Sweetie Belle’s head came free and rolled across the floor with a strangely metallic clanging.

“YES!” screeched Pinkie Pie, “I am so happy right now! I’m gonna need at least three Bad Dragon products before I can calm down!”

But then she paused, blinking slowly as she looked down at where Sweetie’s head used to be.

“Is... where... blood... why no ... WHAT?” Pinkie dropped the chainsaw onto the floor with a clank, the saw finally stuttering to a stop as smoke sizzled from its circuits.

“Error detected,” Sweetie Belle’s severed head said, “Activating wireless communication. Requesting body commence repair procedure.”

Pinkie stared as Sweetie’s headless body staggered forward, dropping down and crouching. The body began to methodically search across the floor for her lost cranium. Once it crawled into Sweetie's line-of-sight, it seemed to know exactly where the head was. Pinkie stared with one eye, the other eye twitching violently, as she watched Sweetie Belle pick up her own head, placing it back upon her body and twisting it back into place with a click. Sweetie immediately realized her head was backwards, so twisted it off again with a sickening crack. She calmly placed it back into its normal forward-facing position.

Since things weren’t bad enough, the trap door into her secret party lair opened a crack, Miss Cake poking her head in.

“Now Pinkie,” scolded Miss Cake, “When I agreed to let you keep murdering ponies in the basement, you promised that you wouldn’t be so loud with it anymore. Gag your victim and stop screaming; otherwise you’re going to disturb the other customers!”

“S-sorry Miss Cake,” stammered Pinkie, “I’ll... try to be quieter.”

“Activating greeting: Hello Miss Cake!” Sweetie Belle blurted out.

“That’s okay dear,” said Miss Cake, “Just don’t forget again... oh is that Sweetie Belle? Oh you should have told me, I bought her a Hearth’s Warming present earlier; Oh, I hope I can think of someone else to give it to, I always feel so self-conscious when I have to take something back for a refund. Anyway, don’t forget dinner is at six, please clean the blood out of your fur before you come back up this time.”

“Y-yes Miss Cake...” Pinkie stammered, her eyes vacant.

Pinkie looked back down at Sweetie Belle. Fully unrestrained and back in one piece, Sweetie looked back up at her, innocent concern for Pinkie’s well-being still seeming to be her main priority.

“Set phasers to hug!” Sweetie blurted out, lunging at Pinkie.

“NO!” Pinkie screamed, dodging out of the way, slamming into the cabinet where she kept her party files and knocking it over. She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. “I mean no... Sweetie... just... go home. I’m taking your name out of the hat, and I never want to see you again. I'll even take Rarity's name out to keep you away. Just leave.”

“Are you uninstalling me from your heart drive?” Sweetie asked.

“I...” Pinkie sighed, bringing both front hooves up and rubbing her forehead, “I love you exactly as much as I need to for you to leave and never come back.”

Pinkie turned, dropping her wonderfully edgy outfit, which she had worked so hard on, onto the floor as she walked away.

“I’m going to skip dinner and go sleep this off like a bad hangover,” said Pinkie Pie, “With any luck, I’ll wake up in a fanfic written by a proper psychopath, like Facemelt91 or Headless Rainbow. Hell, I’d even settle for Bronystories at this point.” she sighed, “I miss Sergeant Sprinkles so much.”

“Affirmative,” Sweetie nodded, “Thank you for implementing fun routines with me!” They weren’t very fun routines, but Pinkie seemed to be suffering from many strange errors, and Sweetie didn’t want to cause any more.

“You little... no... nevermind... you’re welcome... glad to be of @#$ing service you little @#$,” Pinkie said. She dejectedly dragged herself up a slide at the far side of the room to leave the lair.