• Published 8th Jun 2014
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Moonie shorts [Filly Nightmare Moon] - Eighth



A series of short stories about a filly Nightmare Moon, nicknamed Moonie, and her father figure/guardian Anonymous the human.

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18 Moonie the cook

"Moonie, you can help me with desert tonight."

She lets out a loud, irritated groan.

"But I don't want to."

"Too bad, it won't kill you."

"It might. Besides, I have never cooked before."

"All the more reason to learn. Now get in here or has the Mistress of the night finally found something she can't do?"

And typical Moonie, takes the bait. She rushes into the kitchen, holding her head high with a holier than thou expression.

"You will regret those words, as the Queen of the eternal there is nothing I can't do. I could cook this entire cake myself."

You know you probably shouldn't, but you decide to take her up on her offer.

"Alright, you can do it alone. Did you want the recipe?"

"You dare insult me further?"

You shrug before sitting back on the kitchen table, you're not going to leave her alone. She uses her magic to grab all the utensils and ingredients before setting to work. As you scan over the ingredients, you realise you never told her what cake she's supposed to be making.

"You do know you're supposed to be cooking a-"

"I'm making my own recipe."

You're begging to feel uneasy about doing this, but you'll stick to your guts. Again, you take a seat only to get back up when you see her grabbing plum jam and dumping it in.

"Uh, how much Jam is this cake supposed to have?"

"Ten," she replies with a nonchalant attitude.

"Ten? Ten jam... Right."

You take a deep breathe and sit back, there's no need to worry. You hope. Then Moonie adds the things a cake should have; milk, eggs, butter, barbecue and tomato sauce.

"W-were they sauces that you just added?"

"Yeah, the recipe needs so many sauces."

"R-Right."

As Moonie continues to cook, the mess begins to grow.

"Moonie, is that chocolate?"

"Yeah, about four and a half inches of the stuff."

This has gotten out of hand. And you're not quite sure why you haven't stepped in to stop her either. Especially after when she added the Vegemite and cereal. She then pours the bowls contents into a blender and lets it grind it all up into a paste-like batter before pouring it into the tray. She then holds the tray up to you.

"What are you giving it to me for?"

"You're supposed to let an adult handle the oven. You're not my first choice but you're the only one here.

This is probably the first and only sensible thing she's done this whole time. You place the tray into the oven and then set it to cook. After it's done, you pull the tray out and to your surprise it looks good. The thing is wobbling from side to side but it looks puffy and spongy, just like how a cake should look.

You then place it on the table and cut both you and Moonie a slice. Then when you sit down, you take another look. Aside from the movement, it looks perfectly normal which scares you more than if came out looking like vomit. Moonie sits opposite to you with a big, proud grin. You can't tell if she's secretly cackling behind that grin or not. Actually, you think she might be genuinely proud of this which is going to make this all the harder.

You take a bite of it and you're instantly hit with the plum jam along with the tomato and barbecue sauce. Then the taste of the cereal and Vegemite are next, followed by the chocolate. The after taste reminds you of doritos, something you're not sure you even had in the house.

"How is it?" She beams as she asks.

"Good," you reply, trying your best to lie.

It takes all your willpower not to break, especially after she forces a second slice on you. Then you notice that she hasn't had a bite of hers.

"Not hungry?"

"No, why would I eat that garbage? I'll be on the toilet for a week."

Then, your gut lets out a low, garbled rumble signalling as a warning of the week to come.

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