(Natural/Synthetic) (Intelligence/Stupidity) [Delete as Applicable]

by The Iguana Man

A Conferred Raising of Dunces

There was something off about today, but Pinkie couldn't put a hoof on what it was.

The day had started normally – getting up just before the sun, brushing her teeth and doing her morning frolicking exercises. It was while she was showering off her sweat that something changed, but she had no idea what it could be. Still, time and sweets waited for no mare, so she finished her shower, did her morning frolicking exercises and headed down to get to work.

Of course, preparing to open the bakery was as hectic as ever, and even more so this morning – while she was mixing up batches of dough, Mr and Mrs Cake were fussing about the oven cooking the first batch of cupcakes apparently not working. After fifteen minutes of troubleshooting, they talked to Pinkie about it, asking about but not accusing her of doing something to the oven. Pinkie had denied it, taken a look and, after checking the pipe and knobs and being about to open it up to look at the insides, noticed that they hadn't turned it on. This seemed like the solution, only to find out ten minutes later they weren't cooking. This, after another period of investigation, was found to be because Mr. Cake had set the fifty cupcakes to cook at fifty degrees.

After those delays, though, things proceeded relatively smoothly and Pinkie was no closer to figuring out what was wrong with today. Still, it had all started at six-thirty and that had been over eleven hours ago, so...

No, wait, Pinkie blinked for a moment before looking at the clock again. The little hand is the hour. It's 9:25.

...that had been about three hours ago, so it presumably wasn't anything urgent. As such, she turned back to her customer.

“Sorry about that, Mayor Mare,” she said as she finished bagging her order. “Three croissants, two pain au chocolat and two apple turnovers!”

“Thank you Pinkie, and it's quite alright – I understand being preoccupied, believe me. So, that's...” she paused for a moment in thought before nodding, “seven things, so seven bits.” She reached into her saddlebags and pulled out her bit pouch.

“Uh huh, that... wait...” Pinkie frowned as she remembered. “The croissants are three-for-two today, that's why you got three. And the rest are day-olds, so a half-bit each.”

“Oh, right!” The Mayor clopped a hoof and nodded. “So that's... er... hold on... three and four of... carry the two...”

“I... I think it's four bits.” Pinkie offered before inputting a few numbers onto the register. After a moment, the appropriate numbers popped up, prompting a nod. “Yep, four bits!”

“Really? Okay, then!” The Mayor smiled as she paid. “Thanks – with how stressful today's going to be, I'm glad of anything going well.”

“Oh? What are you doing?” Pinkie asked.

“Setting the town's budget for the year,” the Mayor replied as she picked up her bag and made her way out. “Always a tough time.”

“Ah, you'll be fine!” Pinkie assured her, no doubt in her mind about the Mayor's head for numbers. After a moment, she looked up. “Hey, Mayor? Have you noticed anything strange about this morning?”

The Mayor thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, and thank heavens for that – I don't know if I could handle that. Good morning.” And with that, she left the building, leaving Pinkie no closer to an answer.

Unusually for the breakfast period, there wasn't another customer waiting after the Mayor, so Pinkie had a moment to think. What could be wrong today? I just don't know, but something's...

Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud rattling came from the bakery's door, followed by an annoyed voice. “What? Why would...?” As Pinkie walked around the counter and towards the door, the pony on the other side continued trying to pull it open in vain. “Why would they lock the door on any open day, let alone today?! I just don't...”

As soon as they paused, Pinkie grabbed the handle and pulled the door inside, leaning a hoof on the outside handle just below the sign that said 'Push'. “Hey there, Octavia!” She chirped at the pony currently staring, astonished, at the door. “Here to pick up your order?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, indeed!” Octavia shook her head and followed Pinkie inside. “Is it ready?”

“Yepperoonie on the moonie! Mrs. Cake finished icing it a few minutes ago.” Pinkie went back behind the counter and leaned down to get out the commissioned cake. “Gotta say, you really went all out for this one, didn'cha?”

“Well, I rather had to,” Octavia said, a dignified but sincere smile on her face. “After those Foalio editions of Shake Spear and Ten Son that Vinyl got me for my birthday, I really couldn't excuse sparing any expense on hers. Is the party...?”

“Been all ready since last night!” Pinkie assured her, putting the cake on the counter. “You sure you don't want this served then?”

“Positive,” Octavia smiled as she looked at the cake. “We'd both prefer to enjoy this in private and all to ourselves.”

Pinkie nodded and looked down in silent appreciation, reading upside down the white-frosted cake that proclaimed in bright blue and purple icing: “HAPY BERTHDAY, VINEL!”

“Oh, it's lovely – just as I'd hoped!” Octavia said as she closed the box and opened her bag.

Pinkie blinked, still staring at where the writing had been visible. “You sure? There's nothing... not right about it?” She asked, something itching at the back of her mind, but nothing wrong she could think of.

“Not a thing!” Octavia gave a sympathetic smile. “But don't worry, I understand – a good artist is never satisfied with their work. But as the audience, I promise – it's perfect.”

“Al... alright then,” Pinkie replied, tapping a hoof in thought as Octavia walked over to the door. However, she was soon distracted when the refined pony pushed on the door and nearly ran into it as it remained closed.

“What?!” She kept pushing on it as Pinkie came around. “Oh, for heaven's sake! Who would lock the door behind our backs? What possible purpose could that...?”

Pinkie interrupted her by pulling the door open. As Octavia gave a thankful smile and stepped through, Pinkie again felt compelled to ask, “Hey, sorry about this, but have you noticed anything... weird about today?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Octavia replied with a shrug. “Just another normal day in Ponyville, celebrations aside.”

“Okay, thanks,” Pinkie replied as the door swung shut. However, she'd barely made it back around the counter before another pony entered, prompting Pinkie to dispel her worries as best she could and smile for the customer. “Hey there, Lemon Hearts!”

“Good morning, foolish pony! How is your day of being the inferior species treating you?”

“Oh, pretty good, can't complain! How are you today?”

“I am having a wonderful day of being full of delicious and filling love.”

“That's good to hear!” Pinkie smiled, happy to have a normal conversation for once. “So, what can I get you?”

“Oh! Right!” Lemon Hearts paused. “I am definitely here to get food and not to simply scout out the town and relish your ignorance.”

“Got it, I'll get your usual.” She ducked down and filled up a bag with practised ease. “Three lemon squares, fresh and delish!”

“Thank you, take some bits!” Lemon said as she slid her whole bit pouch over.

“Thank, I...” Pinkie paused – something was off about this.

“What? What is it, churl?” Lemon asked, a twitch of apprehension flickering across her face.

Pinkie thought for a moment before she realized what was wrong. “You used your right hoof there. Aren't you left-hoofed?”

“Er, yes, but I'm practising to... er...” Lemon swallowed hard and forced up a shaky smile, “to play that thing... you know... the big black wood thing with the black and white levers...”

“Huh,” Pinkie thought about this. “I thought you hated the piano. You said the unavoidable staccato in its opening and closing of notes was anathema to the fluidity of performance. Did you change your mind?”

“Yes, of course I did, but that doesn't mean I'm actually the changeling queen in a brilliant disguise!” Lemon stamped a hoof, sweat running down her face.

There was a long moment of silence before...

“Okay, then – fair enough!” Pinkie gave her an encouraging smile. “Glad you came around – enjoy the treats.”

“Yes! Yes, I will absolutely be eating these and not leaving them to rot in my house! Goodbye, my oblivious prey!”

“Buh-bye, Lemon, I... Hey, actually...”

Lemon paused, glancing over her shoulder at Pinkie's call. “Yes?”

“I... have you...?” Pinkie paused, once again feeling that itch at the back of her brain. Something about what she'd been about to do didn't seem right. After a moment, she shook her head. “You know what? Never mind! Have a good day!”

As Lemon Hearts rushed out through the door, Pinkie thought as hard as she could. After a few seconds, her eyes widened as realized what was wrong. Wait... no it's Redheart who always wants lemon squares – Lemon Hearts' usual was brownies. Oh... her face fell as she realized her mistake. She must have been too polite to tell me. I'll have to make it up to her later.

She shook her head and looked up again – something was definitely wrong today, but she just had no idea what it was.

Comments

[Ri2]

Oh Pinkie

[Zaid ValRoa]

Ah, yeah. We've all had those days.
Don't worry, Pinkie. I'm sure it'll pass.