Chapter 7 - Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Oven
Changelings, Love and Lollipops
Chapter 7
Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Oven
The changeling had expected the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner to look much like the dull and utilitarian bread bakery from Stalliongrad, with row after row of bland stone oven doors and identical bowls of featureless black bread dough rising, two on the slab for every one in the fire.
Not quite.
Upon taking his first step into the back room, he was greeted by automated equipment for kneading the dough for any kind of pastry, a mechanical cutter and deep frier that could practically fling frosted cake donuts out onto trays, and the most modern oven that he had ever seen. Pinkie Pie hopped past him and opened up a wall shelf where stacks of cupcake papers and frosting tubes were stored, grabbing a couple at random and dropping them on the table.
“Isn’t it great?” bubbled Pinkie, patting the steel and chrome oven. “This baby is the Thermoflex Convection 3001, with deluxe humidity and intensity control, a full suite of cooking configurations, and every possible internal shelf and gadget they make. We can bake a cake big enough to jump out of, but you can’t put anypony inside the cake before you bake it because that would be bad and Mister and Missus Cake lectured me for a whole hour on it before they let me touch it but it just doesn’t seem to do breads right so we mostly use it for cakes and cupcakes and carrot cakes and souffles but it really hates souffles and turns them into pancakes but I love pancakes so that’s not a real problem like the bread issue which we were going to work on before the wedding but things got all complicated and we just worked so hard that week and everypony wanted to celebrate so we just baked until the cows came home and then we made them some extra special cupcakes because they kept us in milk during the rush and we appreciated it since Missus Cake is feeling a little lumpy-wumpy with the twins and isn’t moving as fast as she did when she was unpregnant.”
“Ah… Pinkie?” Mister Cake paused at the kitchen doorway, looking at his pink assistant and the changeling she had on the end of a thin ribbon. “Is that…”
“Hi, Mister Cake, again since I said ‘Hi’ upstairs but you never can say ‘Hi’ enough in the morning. This is Mister Tolliver, and he’ll be staying with me since I’m his probation officer until he goes to Canterlot to face trial on his invasion and kidnapping and assault and postponing my party charges. Mister Tolliver, this is Mister Cake.”
“Call me ‘Pops,’ please,” said the changeling with sudden sympathy for the startled stallion. “I don’t want to cause any trouble here. All I want is a nice peaceful incarceration.”
“And he lies,” said Pinkie in a low growl, which switched almost immediately to her perky babbling, “but only about really, really important things like Pinkie Promises and parties.” She whirled around so fast her mane seemed to remain in place for a fraction of a second before catching up with her face, which was just a fraction of an inch from the changeling’s tingling nose.
“I know what!” Pinkie grinned so broad that the changeling thought it was possible that the corners of her mouth would meet behind her head. “You can stay here today and help us make cupcakes! We’re really far behind even though we’ve got a help wanted sign out front but most of the applicants only work for an hour or two before they leave, some of them screaming a little and running really really fast so I can’t catch them and give them a going away party but I think you’d work out at least until you have to go to Canterlot and do the prison and trial and whatever they do for treason thing but it won’t be too bad because I can testifry in your defiance and tell Princess Cadence that you were a good changeling when we were sleeping together and you didn’t try to attack me or escape once other than when you came downstairs and ate the last of the day-old donuts but those are free for employees and if you start today you’ll be an employee and you can have as many of the donuts that don’t sell that you want but they almost always sell out lately because we’re so short on help so do you want to?”
* * *
Five minutes later, the changeling found himself in an apron while measuring small gloops of batter into cupcake papers and for some reason seemingly missing the last four minutes of his memory. There was a blur that he remembered involving ‘hoofie soap’ and a good deal of ‘morning scrubbie-wubbie’ that preceded a complete and exhaustive (and exhausting) tour of the bakery complete with full instructions on every modern piece of baking equipment and his own coffee cup.
It was very good coffee, two sugars and a dash of cream, just the way he liked it.
He didn’t ask how she knew. He might have gotten an answer.
There should have been an organized process for preparing the morning fritters, donuts, cupcakes and other frosted goodies, and as far as he could tell, the overwhelmed Mister Cake was trying to maintain an order to the chaos that engulfed the whole room, but it was an uphill battle, much like rowing up a waterfall. During a brief break while Pinkie was carrying completed pastries out into the other room and he was side-by-side with Mister Cake, filling up the giant mixer, he managed to blurt out, “Is it always like this?”
“Oh, no,” protested the tall stallion. “When the missus is up and working, it’s… only about half this bad. We’ve been trying to find somepony to help out while she’s in her delicate condition, but most of them… run away.” He eyed the thin ribbon that tied the changeling to the giant mixer. “We’ve never tried tying them up before.” His eyes traced their way up the changeling’s holey legs to his bruised face. “Or hiring non-ponies.”
“Hey!” protested the changeling, switching to his best Rushian accent. “Vhen I lived in Stallviat Rushia, all ponies vere equal. Ve all starved the same. In Glorious Ponies Bakery and Machine Shop, ve produced enough bread to feed an army. Vich we did. Unfortunately, ve also needed to feed ourselves, vich ve did not, most of the time.”
Mister Cake blinked, which the changeling had begun to recognize as a symbol that he was processing something unexpected, and a response was forthcoming if you would please wait for just a moment. After the anticipated moment, Mister Cake tentatively asked, “As a changeling?”
“Nyet!” snapped the changeling with a good-natured scowl. “Vas proud member of unicorn bourgeois doing his patriotic duty as good proletariat worker.” The changeling switched his accent off as he folded up the empty flower sack and sat it to one side so that he could begin to measure a few liters of milk into the mixer. “Just another Rushian unicorn trying to make ends meet in a bakery in Stalliongrad during the coldest winter I have ever seen!” He shivered as he turned on the mixer and set the timer, taking a surreptitious look out the window to make sure it was still dark.
Step One: Gain their confidence - complete
The truth seemed to be a much safer routine to start with this time. He remained patient as the morning baking went on, waiting for just the right moment when both Mister Cake (or ‘Carrot’ as he preferred to be called) and Pinkie would be together out in the main room and the cheerful changeling would be left alone in the kitchen just long enough to slip out the back door and trot, not gallop, away into the pre-dawn gloom. When the moment arrived, it took only a single burst of green magic to free his leg from the ribbon and five steps for the back door where freedom await—
“Hi’ya, Mister Tolliver.” Standing just inside the back door was the golden earth pony from yesterday, with one eyebrow raised and her hat held against her chest. “Still here, I see.”
The changeling really did not know how to respond, but stating the obvious seemed like an option. “Yes?”
Applejack shook her head with a sly smile. “Now I knows you was a wantin’ to get to work this mornin’ out at the farm all early like, since we didn’t get a good start yesterday, so I thought I’d mosey on down to Pinkie’s and pick you up.”
He could not help but look out the window at the pre-dawn darkness. “It’s still night.”
“Shucks, I know that, but it’ll be dawn in just a few.”
“And Pinkie would like me to stay and help with the baking. Since they’re short-hoofed.”
“Well, I suppose I can stroll on out and have a word with Pinkie,” said Applejack, putting her hat back on and walking forward towards the door into the main room of Sugarcube Corner in a rolling fashion that made her hips sway from side to side. “Maybe we can come to some sort of a compromise between us, you bein’ such a hard worker and all.”
The changeling watching the earth pony walk out the door could not help but notice the muscles under that golden coat as Applejack walked, swishing her tail from side to side with each step, and he kept his head turned to watch in the direction of the closed door even as he began to move to the back door and his exit out of the crazy bakery.
Too bad I’ll be gone. I bet she does taste like apples. Ooph—
Instead of walking into the hallway door, he seemed to have collided with a concrete wall covered in short red hairs. With a growing pit in the bottom of his aching stomach, his eyes traveled upwards, past the huge hooves, the muscled chest, the thick wooden collar around the stallion’s neck, and to the blocky and totally expressionless face that was observing him in the exact same way as if he were considering just how much empty land there was on an orchard to hide a body.
* * *
Bright sunlight filled the orchard as the mayor placed a shining blue ribbon on Big Mac’s chest while both of them stood next to a gigantic apple tree filled with huge red apples, some of which were nearly the size of a pony themselves. After the photographers for the prize committee had finished taking pictures, she turned to the big stallion and asked, “So, Big Macintosh. What is the secret to your growing such a magnificent tree?”
“Pest control,” he mumbled into the microphone. “And lots of love to help them grow. Particularly ‘round the roots.”
* * *
“Hi.” What should have been a reassuring soft tone to calm the savage beast older brother was more of a panicked squeak that would not have been out of place in a mouse nest. The changeling took a step back, and then a rapid second and third as Big Mac stepped forward, causing the changeling to scuttle backwards like a cockroach when the lights came on. Just before being backed out the door into the main room, the changeling scrambled to one side and the big stallion swept by with a brief rumbled apology and a scathing glare indicating their conversation was not over, and his trip into the other room was only going to last a minute before returning to finish it.
The changeling kept an eye on the closed door to the main room, backing carefully across the kitchen until he could feel the hallway door against his tail. From there, it was only a quick dash through the hallway, past the storeroom, and out the back door — where a cannon filled with pink confetti most probably awaited. He paused, considering his options.
Back door - Confetti
Orchard - Fertilizer
Bakery - Pinkie Pie
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
The breakfast rush had tapered off and the lunch rush was still a hour away before the changeling managed to get a break, little splatters of batter still covering every bit of his body that the apron had failed to protect. Shortly before dawn, Missus Cake had descended the stairs to grace the kitchen with her pregnant presence, and even though the changeling could not tell how much of her rotundness was water retention, fat, or foal, he was smart enough to keep any wise comments to an absolute minimum of zero. Strangely enough, she took the presence of a changeling in her kitchen about as calmly as her husband, taking a skeptical look at the ribbon tying him to the mixing machine before shaking her head and just getting out cupcake pans.
He wanted to ask. He really did. He was just afraid of getting an answer.
After a little while when the Cakes were at the front counter, Pinkie Pie came back to the kitchen to help him with the baking, which was… weird, but nice. Although he had spent months in Stalliongrad baking bread, he had learned more this morning than he had during his entire Rushian trip, and now as he picked through the oven manual while on their break, he was learning even more.
“Since when does an Equestrian bakery run by earth ponies have a Minotaur oven designed for Griffons?” He held up the manual and turned it sideways while squinting at a series of controls. “I swear by the First Egg, this is the weirdest thing.”
Well, the second weirdest thing in the room.
Pinkie Pie shrugged. “I love my oven. I just wiggle the levers and twist the knobs until it looks right and the cupcakes come out perfectly brown.”
Although he opened his mouth to protest, a few moments thought about the old Stallviet factory supervisor who was in charge of the bread forging machine changed his mind. The crusty earth pony had a soft hoof for the controls and the lowest reject rate of any factory, although he never looked at the dials.
“I suppose that makes sense,” he said, sticking the oven manual back into the dusty niche that he had pulled it out of. “I’d still like to whip up a few loaves of bread.”
“Oh, I know,” said Pinkie Pie, bouncing over to the mixer and beginning to throw in ingredients. “We could make hot buns, and then you could have buns in my oven, like Missus Cake has two buns in hers.”
“Ah…” Under normal circumstances, the comment could not possibly be accidental, but Normal Circumstances was probably about a three hour train ride away from Ponyville in any direction. “That sounds good,” he said instead of trying to figure out just exactly what she was intending.
As it turned out, hot buns were on the menu in more than one way, but not quite what he had expected. Pinkie was excited at trying a new recipe, and bounced around the room while singing, which resulted in a few accidental scorch marks on his tail as he occasionally was startled into backing up by a sudden explosion of pink smiling face at nose length away during the chorus. It was late afternoon by the time Missus Cake waddled went upstairs to take a nap and Pinkie bounced away to help cover the front desk, leaving the changeling alone in the kitchen.
It was almost fifteen minutes later as he hefted the agitator bars from the mixer into the dishwasher that he realized how much he missed her constantly chattering voice. It was a little like being back in the hive with dozens of changelings chittering away at the same time, or the background murmur of voices in the hivemind that he missed so much. She had stood up for him, saving his life by insisting that she needed him more in the bakery than out in the middle of a bunch of apple trees with no witnesses and lots of deep holes, and he decided to pay the favor back by finishing the cleanup instead of bolting for freedom and getting cannoned in the face again.
I can slip away this evening when they’re all asleep. Pinkie has been burning so much energy that she should sleep like a rock until I’m long gone. And no cannon.
He was broken out of his reverie by the sound of the timer ringing on the oven, which had been repurposed back to cupcakes after their successful breadmaking experiment. It took a moment to find the potholders and turn to scoop out the hot trays, and the door to the kitchen banged open while he fumbled for the timer with his weak magic.
“I’ve got ‘em, Mister Cake,” he called.
A rough male voice that was most definitely not Mister Cake responded in a parade-ground bellow from around the corner, “Don’t worry, Carrot! I’ll get ‘em. We’re in a hurry.”
The tramp of metal shoes on the kitchen floor panicked the changeling. Acute hearing picked out the sound of armor shifting in position along with the perfectly even tread of an experienced soldier, and in just a second, the Royal Guard was going to turn the corner to find a changeling with a tray of cupcakes held in his magic, and his response would most certainly not be as forgiving as the Cakes. Instinct trumped panic, and when the broad-shouldered unicorn guard rounded the corner, there was a young unicorn of a cheery yellow hue standing there instead of the previous occupant.
“You must be Carrot’s new recruit,” bellowed the Royal Guard unicorn in a powerful voice that the changeling considered must be his normal volume. “Good to see he’s got a young buck here to help out while the wife is in the infirmary. You worked here long?”
“Just today,” the changeling managed to respond, brushing a loose strand of his dusky orange mane back out of his eyes in a motion that he found comforting in his current practiced form. He placed the cupcake pan on the table before turning back to the oven in a forced casual pace, levitating out the second tray as the other unicorn watched.
“How’s Pinkie treating you?” asked the guard, masked by a somewhat slobbery noise that indicated the dozen cupcakes in the pan behind him were now one less.
‘She ties me to her bed’ did not sound quite like the response that would alleviate any suspicions on his part, so he settled for, “Uh. Fine?” while floating two more cupcake trays into the oven and setting the timer again.
The broad-chested unicorn took in a deep breath of the warm air wafting out of the oven. “Fresh cupcakes from Cup Cake. Nothing like ‘em anywhere in Equestria. Bag me up two dozen, please. It’s a long way to the Badlands with our passengers, and no place to stop on the way to pick up grub.” He paused, as if waiting for a laugh. “Grub. You get it? Our passengers? Oh, never mind. You’re about as talkative as they are.”
The changeling was rattled by the close proximity of the guard, but not rattled enough to forget to keep his magical aura shifted to a softer red as he levitated the cupcakes out of the trays and stuck two dozen of them (plus one) into a bag. If three little ponies could beat up and subdue the weakened changeling, a Royal Guard would make short work of him, but his curiosity still itched. After all, the Badlands was where the hive was located, and any ‘passengers’ headed that way with a Royal Guard escort could only spell trouble.
“So… Who are you taking out to the Badlands?”
The unicorn gave him a perplexed look. “Why, the changelings, of course. We’ve been tracking all of them down and picking them up all between here and Canterlot for the last few days, except for any that fell into the Everfree Forest, of course. Those are probably long gone as love-flavored cupcakes for the monsters who live there.”
The disguised changeling could just see out the window from where he was standing and into the broad grassy yard that surrounded the bakery. A Royal Guard troop transport was resting outside Sugarcube Corner with four pegasi in the harness and a rather bulky earth pony guard standing around impatiently on the front. In the back, heaped up and piled together, were the motionless chitinous bodies of changelings, sprawled out in a heap that was probably bringing the transport fairly close to its maximum weight.
“Ch-ch-changelings?” he managed to stammer out.
“Oh, don’t be afraid,” scoffed the guard, hefting up the bag of cupcakes in his magic. “Where they’re going, they’re never going to bother you again. But if you see one around, make sure to let us know. They may look harmless now, but they could be dangerous. Just let us handle them.”
The changeling was almost unaware of the guard leaving to the front of the store to pay for his purchase, only shaking out of his terrorized train of thoughts as the guard scrambled onto the transport and it took off.
The pony Queen is tracking us down and killing us. It only makes sense. We attacked their Queen, and now while we’re weak, she’s killing every changeling she can get her hooves on and dumping the dead bodies at the hive as a message. I have to get out of here. There’s probably a bounty on all of our heads. I wonder how many milkshakes my head would be worth to those little ponies? They could get their clubhouse fixed and still… No, I need to focus. Pinkie Pie and the Cakes probably don’t know about the bounty or they would have turned me in. Buy twenty four cupcakes and get a free changeling to throw on your wagon full of corpses.
The changeling shuddered as he looked out the window again, terrified that he would see the wagon landing to pick up an additional body. With one last glance, he turned back to work, trying to keep calm while he planned.
I have to act normal until tonight when I can try to escape again. Whatever I do, I can’t tell—
“What’cha doing?”
“Wha—” Still unused to sudden exposure to a weapons-quality grin at point-blank range, the changeling hopped backwards, then hopped forward even more energetically as his rump made contact with the hot oven. The resulting impact tasted of frosting and cinnamon as he tumbled to the ground, surrounded by pink. Well, Pinkie.
Somehow their tumble across the floor wound up with him on his back and a giggling Pinkie on top, and she pressed her nose down on his and giggled. “Silly changeling.” She kissed him squarely on the lips and bounced to her hooves. “If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask. I know you changelings live on love and snuggy hugs, but you probably didn’t get much of that when the Cutie Mark Crusaders were running you around town—” Pinkie’s eyes narrowed momentarily “—or you better not have.” The brief shadow across the sun blew away, and the perky pink pony was back at full volume. “So I had a cupcake while I was up at the front counter and I’ll bet you can’t guess what kind it was!”
“Pumpkin spice with cream cheese frosting and red-hots,” he replied almost automatically, licking his upper lip where a tantalizing remnant remained. It almost managed to pull him out of his depression, except for the descent back into crushing despair when he thought of so many of his hivelings being hauled away like garbage.
“Oooo, you’re good!” Soft pink lips pressed against his again, and while he was trying to make sense of the affectionate kiss, Pinkie promptly popped up off of his chest and bounced over to the mixer. “So I was thinking we could have a dozen each of pumpkin, radish, raspberry, blueberry, orangeberry, and avocado cupcakes this evening at the party!”
“Party?” he echoed.
“Your Welcome to Ponyville Party, of course,” said Pinkie. “I mean you’ve already been in town a few days out at the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ clubhouse, but that’s outside Ponyville, and now that you’re inside Ponyville, you deserve a party!” Her voice abruptly dropped an octave and she glared at him. “Even if you are a liar and a Pinkie Promise Breaker.” Just as quickly as her cheer had vanished, it was back in a beaming grin. “So when we have the party here tonight, I’ll introduce you to everypony in Ponyville. Won’t that be great!”
* * *
A howling mob with torches and pitchforks carried the bound changeling out into the town square while shouting for their favorite method of execution.
“Burn him at the stake!” screamed a tan stallion.
“Tear him limb from limb!” shouted another.
“Turn him over to Twilight Sparkle for experimentation!” called out a third.
The shouts from the crowd instantly silenced as the entire group of ponies stood and looked at the frightened changeling, who was all tied up in a cocoon of thick ropes.
“Let’s not get carried away,” said the Mayor, waving her own torch. “After all, it may be some sort of demonic monster, but we should at least show it a little compassion. Put the stake over there and we’ll douse the creature with oil before we light the wood so it won’t suffer.”
* * *
“I-I’m not feeling much like a party tonight, Pinkie,” he stammered, adding a little cough at the end. “My stomach really hurts, and I think my skin is itching.” The changeling looked down at his cheery yellow coat and added, “Under the disguise, of course.”
“I thought Sweetie Belle said you couldn’t change,” said Pinkie Pie with a suspicious glare at close range. “She told me all about your story, but Applejack says you were using your magic to pick up apples all day yesterday, and I saw you using your magic today with the baking. Were you lying to that sweet little filly?”
“No?” The changeling writhed somewhat under the relentless gaze, but rallied quickly. “No. I couldn’t change without getting really sick after I crashed, but when that guard came around the corner, it just… happened.”
“Ohhh. Like my Pinkie Sense. I never know when it’s going to happen until it does and then sometimes it does things I never realized before and it takes a while to figure out just what happened. Can you change into any other ponies? Oh, like me! Do me! Do me!” Pinkie Pie bounced around the messy kitchen in long bounds.
No wonder the hive has Ponyville on the forbidden list. They’re all crazy.
“I’d really like to do you, Pinkie,” started the changeling, only realizing what he was saying after the words left his mouth.
“Your next words better not be ‘but,’ Mister Tolliver.”
Fortunately, Missus Cake came trotting into the kitchen at that moment with some sticky trays on her back. Her rapid waddle towards the dishwasher took somewhat of a stutter as she glanced towards the other two ponies in the room. Then looked a second time.
“Um. Pinkie?”
“Good Afternoon, Missus Cake,” called Pinkie with a wave. “I was just talking to Mister Tolliver about his but.”
The long pause and the rather slow blink from Cup that followed were getting to be familiar to the changeling, perhaps some sort of coping mechanism for being trapped in such close proximity to that much pink for a long period of time. “That’s… nice, Pinkie,” she added, dropping the trays into the soapy water and trotting back towards the front of the store with slightly more speed and making the door close with a sharp bang.
“I don’t have enough energy,” blurted out the changeling in a desperate attempt to get ahead of Pinkie for a moment.
“No problem. I’ve got lots of energy.”
The world became pink again, flavored with cotton candy and frosting. It was far from the best kiss he had ever been given, but on a scale of one to ten for enthusiasm, it ranked somewhere around thirty-eight, and even without his empathic senses, it made certain reactions flare to life.
In particular, it made his aching stomach give out a sharp pain that distracted him from the sound of the door opening again, and the voice of Carrot Cake calling out, “Pinkie? What are you doing!”
The kiss quit, and in the resulting vacuum he could actually hear Pinkie Pie grinning. “Mister Tolliver is all out of energy, and I wanted him to do me, so I’m giving him some of my extra super-duper energetic energy. Isn’t that right?”
“Uh. Huh?” By the time he had blinked away the pink, the door to the front of the store had closed, and all he could think about was the brief glimpse he had gotten of Mister Cake’s sympathetic look of terror. And the growing pain in the changeling’s gut, which must have shown in his face.
All of the happy energy surrounding Pinkie Pie vanished in a heartbeat, and the pink pony held a hoof to his sore tummy. “Does your tum-tum still hurt?”
“Yes,” he moaned, with a little extra emphasis that he could not help.
“Maybe we should get you over to the hospital, then.” Pinkie prodded his tummy slightly with one hoof. “We’ve got a really neat hospital with all of the modern beepy and pingy things. The Cakes took me there on one of Missus Cake’s maturnalty visits, because she’s having twins, and the doctors get all worried whenever she gets a little twinge in her tummy, but mostly it’s just gas and indigestion because the twins are pushing all of her internal organs around like when you have twenty foals at a party in a room that only holds ten and you get out the Twister mat. I’ll bet they can use one of their pingy thingies to look in your tummy and see what’s making it hurt.”
* * *
“Frau Doktor Sparkle, we have restrained the patient and are ready to apply anesthetic.” An old, wrinkled nurse with a mallet nodded at the cackling purple unicorn, who was sorting through her collection of custom scalpels.
“Not yet, Nurse Bludgeon.” Twilight Sparkle pointed at the tied-up changeling on the operating table with one razor-sharp blade nearly the length of a foreleg. “I haven’t even calculated the best point to make the cranial incision, let alone how deep a channel to cut with the bone saw in order to expose the maximum amount of brain tissue.”
“But, Doctor Sparkle,” interrupted the nurse. “The patient is suffering from a stomach ache. Shouldn’t you be cutting him open around the middle?”
“Who’s the doctor here, you or me?”
* * *
“No!” blurted the changeling, covering his mouth with a hoof immediately afterwards. “I mean… It’s an upset tummy. We changelings can heal about any major injury with love, but not minor things like indigestion.” Or starvation. “I think all I need is some… medicine.”
The depression that covered the pink pony vanished as Pinkie Pie jumped to her hooves and began pushing him towards the front door. “I know just the pony! Come on, let’s go!”
They passed the confused couple cleaning up the front of the store with a rushed explanation by Pinkie Pie as they traveled.
“We need to take off early Mister and Missus Cake so I can take Mister Tolliver here to get some medicine for his tummy so he can do me afterwards. Oh, and then we can see if he can do the rest of my friends! This is going to be so great!”
And they were out on the street, running as fast as they could, although the changeling heard the quiet thump of Mister Cake fainting as they left.
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Poor Mr. Cake.
If comedy was an ore, and your story was the type of ore, then this would be comedy gold.
Now I KNOW Pinky's doing it on purpose. :P
Uhhh, wait... this happens after the changeling invasion (Season 2, Episode 26), right? If so, the Cake twins would already be born (Season 2, Episode 13). Mistake or untagged AU?
Pinkie, Pinkie, Pinkie. Never change. Looking forward to more.
Keep up the good work. Deus tecum.
That line is unreasonably humorous to me.
I think I can understand why new help doesn't last long.
While i was reading this a new chapter appeared.
Do you hear that? It's the laughter of an amused physicist. :P
I'm starting to think that Mister Tolliver love eating magic is not disabled, but reverse. He is no longer eating love, but sending it back to others he is close too.
Damn. Either she's doing it completely on purpose to screw around with Tolliver, or Pinkie REALLY needs to relieve some of that sexual tension.
5532325 Well, fall weather friends came out right around winter wrap up, which are in opposite seasons. Maybe the timeline of the episode releases can't be trusted completely?
5532325
Well, if we are the crazy sort, the answer is... ANOTHER SET OF TWINS IS ALREADY ON THE WAY! RUN! EVERYPONY GALLOP FOR YOUR LIVES! FEAR THE POTENTIAL OF PUMPKIN AND POUND TEAMING UP WITH THEIR YOUNGER SIBLINGS IN THEIR COUP TO TAKE OVER ALL OF EQUESTRIA!
You are a machine! This update rate is insane.
But fantastic. And the comedy is soooo good. So many innuendos.
One thing though, it sounds like Pinkie kisses him on the nose and then, the next time she kisses him it say "lips on his again". Or is the first one that is referred to there the CPR?
Great, great funnies here.
Now... what would happen if 'Mister Tolliver' and Stupid Doll from Changeling Doll met and talked for awhile, no interruptions?
5532621 I was dreading that thought, that's why I didn't mention it...
Sometimes I wonder if Pinkie hears what she's saying, but then I remember she's an adult who loves to make jokes.
5532325 Could be a second set...
The scariest part is that Tolliver's daydreams about nightmare Ponyville might actually be less insane than the reality.
Applying for asylum in the Crystal Empire must be starting to look like a good option right about now. "Dear Princess Cadance: Hi! You probably don't remember me, but we met when my queen was torturing you in the caverns underneath Canterlot and trying to assume control of your life …"
5532203 I hope you don't have some kind of grudge against him...
Oh God, those last two paragraphs.
Pinkie, you so crazy.
So sad when the changeling finally dies of starvation.
...
So, he can't use magic anymore, and the love-hunger pangs haven't gotten any better, but he spontaneously transformed when he feared an immediate and direct threat on his life?
Something's up with that.
Is it weird I'm hoping he actually does starve to death in the custody of the ponies? It's what he seems to want, anyway.
The real question is... does Pinkie know what she's implying or not...
I've always imagined her to be pretty intelligent (hence why she can build such wonders as the Pinkie Copter and the Party Cannon) but liking to hide said intelligence behind a veil of youthful naivety...
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5532255
If metaphors were a candy, then yours would be taffy.
thoroughly stretched.
Loving this story, even if it's a major tease
5533017
Oh that's stone cold hard. Rock did I ever do to you? My lines are sedimentary, igneously crafted. You wouldn't want to put me under pressure would you? Well, even if you do, I'll come out like a diamond in the rough. But seriously bantering with me will just make you boulder and that shale's in comparison with the volcanic response you'd get from me.
Yeah. Just nod and smile. Everypony does
Heehee.
Here we go again...
Though this time, at least he did Step Zero first: Don't make any Pinkie Promises!
I still ship it!
Lies and slander! I'm pretty sure Big Mac isn't capable of glaring.
Besides, on his frame, it'd be overkill
Also, stop ruining my ship, Big Mac!
Which would inevitably be "Pinkie works here. We've seen stranger things."
Though, the wise would certainly refrain from asking what those 'stranger things' were
Griffins. They got their facts straight; the Egg was first!
You hammer the buttons and wiggle the sticks!
Really? Really?
lol. They're being deported! To get back home, all he needs to do is drop his disguise
Ohey! He changed!
Yeah. that one was inevitable, of course
Ohgods, you went there
"And here we have the machine that goes 'bing!'"
5532325 The episode release sequence obviously does not match the real timeline *unless* Equestria is really, really weird. In this case, the Cakes were not shown with the babies during the Royal Wedding, so obviously they came along later. (although with the way Cup is waddling, not too much later.)
5532568 Pinkie Pie laughs at your silly rules, like Gravity, or Entropy...
5532586 Hold onto that thought...
5532652 I'll have to go back and check the phrasing and correct if needed. After all, Pinkie knows Changelings are fueled by love and kisses.
5532663 Darnit, you reminded me that I haven't caught up on that story in a few months.
5532760 Only problem is the Crystal Empire is still stuck in time. This is only a week after the Wedding. Shining Armor and Chrysalis... I mean Cadence are still on their honeymoon.
5532790 Are you kidding? I love changelings. Particularly with a little butter and some white wine...
5532836 (checks) Nope, no Sad tag. You must not read much of my stuff. I hate sad endings. Cliffhangers, yes. Of course the Changeling will get a Happy Ending... um... maybe I should rephrase that...
5532883 Wait for it...
5532888 A very effective veil. Made of taffy.
5533010 Well, he is used to living under the dictatorial control of a single ruler who determines his every action. Well, except he's never been married. (I hope the wife doesn't read this)
5533280 No, Major Tease is the earth pony Royal Guard still in the transport.
5533495 How did you know he's going to see the machine that goes -Ping!-
Mister Tolliver has a serious case of the Scrubs Fantasy Moments.
DO HER DO HER DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HER!!!
5533703
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...Actually, that picture is a pretty good response to several of the more... non-target audience moments in this story.
Okay, where in the hay are the changelings getting their impressions of Twilight from!? I mean, they got Fluttershy pretty much right, how did they screw up Twilight so badly?
5532883 He's not starving.
He's full.
Overfull, in fact, for the first time in his life....
5533703 I'm a particle physicist.. so Pinkie can violate gravity and entropy all day long. :P
I feel really bad for Pops, as he calls himself. I'm faving this.
Clearly the secret is to pre-traumatize them before they even start working, that way they're too shell-shocked to even make it out the door.
Tolliver really needs to be more subtle about how much he is staring at Applejack, eventually Mac is going to catch him at it and then he really might get to live out that fertilizer fantasy. Assuming that the big guy hasn't already noticed and is just biding his time, that is.
My god, those "do me" jokes.
5534083
Well if there aren't any Changelings in Ponyville to report on what happens there then their only source of information would be newspapers and alot of gossip/rumors........and considering how gossip and rumors painted Zecora as a "Evil Enchantress" that would cook up innocent ponies into a stew? All it would take is an idle comment subtly distorted, misheard and or blown out of proportion.
I am dead. Your story has killed me once again. In a good way, of course. It is absolutely hilarious! MORE PLEASE!
Rock on.
-ThePortalPonies
Soyuz nerushimy respublik svobodnyh
Splotila naveki Velikaya Rus’.
Da zdravstvuyet sozdanny voley narodov
Yediny, moguchy Sovetsky Soyuz!
Seriously, Georg, this story has had me in stitches.
Do me please!!
5533703
What about the machine that goes "Ta-poketa-poketa-poketa"
Pinkie is gonna cause an uproar.
5535009
No, no, no, it goes "pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-queep!"
5533703
Fava Beans and Chianti.
5533310
I metamorphic writer, huh?
Seriously, Pinkie, do you even know what you're doing? It's hard to believe it's not done on purpose
"Unpregnant" is almost Carrollian in its sensible nonsense. After all, every day of unpregnancy is leading up to an unbirthday.
He can learn!
I think it's on the same rail line as Truth and Consequences.
You know, I am genuinely uncertain how much of Pinkie's innuendo is accidental here. I want to say all of it, but it could be that she knows more than she lets on and is trying to feed "Tolliver" with more than pastry. Maybe. You can never tell for sure with Pinkie. Of course, given his restored disguise abilities, it's possible that "Tolliver" has been feeding without realizing it, what with his empathic sense of taste still shorted out... or possibly just altered in a way he doesn't realize or recognize.
Also, given how mistaken "Tolliver" has been about everything else pony-related, I suspect that the Guard's actions are more innocent—or at least less lethal—than they appear. Can't say for certain what they are, but a corpse wagon seems uncharacteristic. And unsanitary.
And yes, I'm going to keep putting the protagonist's name in quotes. It may be the only thing I can call him (other than descriptions like "the protagonist") but it's still a pseudonym.
Looking forward to more.
Yeah, this guy's got a serious case of the Scrubs.
His situation makes me wonder if a changeling actually needs other changelings around to feel emotion, like it's a natural consequence of having three different perspectives on the whole scenario.
Anybody but me thinking it would be funny for Pinkie to introduce the Changeling as her fiance to her parents?
5549060 Me, definitely!