A 'slice of life' story about the life of a dragon named 'Slice' whose owner/boss/sister/mother figure moves to a small town to learn about friendship at the behest of her teacher, dragging Slice along unwillingly.
A 'slice of life' story all about a dragon named 'Slice' whose owner/boss/sister/mother figure moves to a small town to learn about friendship at the behest of her teacher, dragging Slice along unwillingly.
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Bakequestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and provided the food supply for all the land. To do this, Yeastrise, the eldest, used her baking powders to raise the yeast at dawn; and Pancake, the younger, brought out the batter and poured it in the pan. Thus, the two sisters satisfied the hunger of their subjects, all the different types of ponies.
But as time went on, the younger sister became resentful. The ponies relished and enjoyed the bread her elder sister brought forth all day, but they would not serve the younger’s pancakes after 11 AM. One fateful morning, the younger sister refused to clean up the kitchen to make way for lunch. The elder sister tried to reason with her, but the bitterness in the young one’s heart had transformed her into a wicked mare of breakfast: Bacon Pancake.
She vowed that she would shroud the land in eternal breakfast. Reluctantly, the elder sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to ponydom: the Elements of Bakery. Using the magic of the Elements of Bakery, she defeated her younger sister, and banished her permanently to the fridge. The elder sister took on responsibility for both breakfast and lunch, and harmony has been maintained in Bakequestria for generations ever sense.
“Hmmm...” said a light fuchsiaish gray alicorn with pale, light grayish magenta eyes and a mane consisting of stripes of light cerulean, light turquoise, very light cobalt blue, and pale heliotrope, with a slice of cake for a cutie mark. “Elements of Bakery. I know I’ve heard of those before… but where?”
This story is about the life of Slice the dragon, a gray-colored baby dragon who lived in the magical land of Bakequestria. Slice was born when his egg was hatched by Princess Cakelestia during her entrance exam to Princess Yeastrise Bakel’s School for Gifted Bakers. He then spent the next ten years or so of his life serving as Cakelestia’s assistant in her studies. It suited Slice very well, since Cakelestia didn’t really give him that much work, and Slice hated working. It seemed as though his entire life would be easy, ‘living the dream’ in the comfort and safety of the royal palace where he didn’t have to worry about anything except petty little first world problems.
Then one day, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked Slice got the following letter from Princess Yeastrise:
My dear Slice, there is more to a young dragon’s life than playing ‘vidya gaems’ and masturbating to Chinese cartoons, so I’m sending you to help Princess Cakelestia supervise preparations for the Summer Bake-Off and Oven Festival in Pnoyville. And, I have an even more essential task for you to complete: lose some weight make some friends!
Sincerely, Princess Yeastrise Bakel.
Slice now found himself riding in the back of Princess Yeastrise’s 2011 Cadillac CTS-V along with Princess Cakelestia and two royal guards.
“Look on the bright side, Slice,” said Cakelestia encouragingly. “The Princess arranged for us to stay in a treehouse. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“No,” said Slice harshly. “Not unless the treehouse has a 72 inch flat screen TV with a 4K resolution and 9,000 megabit per second internet. Ha, I bet those plebs don’t even have HD!”
“Then… will you lose wei-- i mean, make friends, like the Princess said?” asked Cakelestia.
“She said to help you supervise preparations in Pnoyville. I am her student’s assistant, and I’ll do my duty, but the fate of Humgonia does not rest on me making friends.”
The 2011 Cadillac CTS-V pulled to a stop and the guard who wasn’t driving got out and opened the door for Cakelestia. The guard then went over to the other side of the car and opened the door for Slice to get out, but he refused to leave, so Cakelestia and the guard had to pull him out.
“Thank you, sirs,” said Cakelestia to the guards. Slice gave a big huff.
“Come on, Slice,” said Cakelestia. “Lighten up. We’re somewhere we’ve never been before. Isn’t this exciting?”
“No,” said Slice. “This place is a shithole. Just look at it!”
Cakelestia looked around. Pnoyville truly was a shithole, with the town proper consisting of little else besides a few rows of wooden shacks, a run-down gingerbread house, and a big gated mansion. It was pretty much Equal Town, but with more mud and horse poop in the streets.
“Maybe the ponies in Pnoyville have interesting things to talk about,” said Cakelestia cheerfully. “Come on, Slice, just try!”
Cakelestia pushed Slice in front of a perky pink earth pony with really fluffy hair.
“Um… hello?” Slice said awkwardly.
The pink pony jumped up in the air and made a prolonged gasp, then ran away as fast as she could.
Just then they heard the rumbling of engines. A small motorcade approached, consisting of two black sixth generation Nissan Patrols in the front and the rear, and a 2015 Mercedes-Benz W221 in the middle, which blared patriotic music from a speaker on the roof. The motorcade drove up to Spike and Cakelestia, then it stopped and one of the windows rolled down. An earth pony mare with a pale, light grayish amber coat and a light cornflower bluish gray mane stuck her head out and examined the new arrivals.
“GREETINGS, ROYAL ONES” said the mare. “I am President Imelda Remedios Visitacion Romualdez Indira Priyadarshini Gandhi Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton Cylvia Lynne Hayes Meghan McCarthy Ellen Pao Margaret Hilda Thatcher Yulia Tymoshenko Marecos, President-For-Life of Pnoyville, but you may call me ‘President Mare.’ I have heard you were coming and would like to be the first to welcome you to our humble town. Please, feel free to enjoy yourselves, but just don’t break any of the laws or else I’ll have to imprison you in my torture dungeon. I live in that fancy palace over there, you can’t miss it. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. Ta-taa!”
The window rolled back up and the motorcade resumed its route through the city.
“Well, that was interesting all right...” Cakelestia said in confusion.
“Yeah, well, I’ve had enough for today,” said Slice as he started walking away. “See you back at the treehouse.”
Cakelestia gave a disappointed sigh.
It was the morning of the Summer Bake-Off and Oven Festival. All of the ponies were gathered in the town square of Pnoyville, which was really just a muddy field, which was now adorned with countertops and ovens and pots and pans and all sorts of kitchen utensils. One oven was larger than all the others, and it was placed atop a platform next to a giant baking pan full of dough. This oven was the oven with which Princess Yeastrise would bake the ceremonial first loaf, officially kicking off the Bake-Off.
The ponies were all excited to witness Princess Yeastrise raise the yeast. That pink pony from the day before was standing next to Slice (who Cakelestia had to drag out of bed) and chattering rapidly.
“Isn’t this exciting?” asked the pink pony. “Are you excited, ‘cause I’m excited. I’ve never been so excited-- well, except for that time that I saw you walking into town and I went *gasp* but I mean really, who can top that?”
Slice stuck an apple in her mouth to shut her up. Just then, President Mare’s motorcade arrived and several ponies in black suits and sunglasses got out of the sixth generation black Nissan Patrols. Then President Mare herself got out of the Mercedes-Benz, wearing an outfit that cost more than the real estate value of all of downtown Pnoyville.
President Mare went up to the podium with the big oven on it and cleared her throat.
“FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS,” she boomed in a royal caps lock voice. “As president-for-life of Pnoyville, it is my great pleasure to announce the beginning of the Summer Bake-Off and Oven Festival!”
All of the ponies in town cheered, but not for the reason you’d expect. For you see, in Bakequestria, royalty really wasn’t all that respected, since everypony knew that the actual affairs of state were handled by various ministers. Nopony gave a flying feather about Princess Bakelestia visiting Pnoyville. Instead, all of these ponies were excited for the Bake-Off because they were all hungry and just wanted filling (,if not overpriced,) food.
“In just a few moments,” continued the president, “Our town will witness the magic of the yeastrise, and celebrate this, the tastiest day of the year! And now, it is my great honor to introduce to you the ruler of our land, the very pony who gives us our breakfast and lunch each and every day, the good, the wise, the bringer of baked goods to all of Bakequestria… PRINCESS YEASTRISE BAKEL!”
There was fanfare, but not the quality you’d expect for the introduction of royalty. Rather, it was more like the fanfare you’d get from a couple of high school freshmen at the end of their first week of marching band practice who all thought it was a good idea to get wasted some of their father’s cheap booze the night before.
But nopony came. Everypony started chattering nervously in the background and getting worried that their princess would not show. Then suddenly an alicorn mare with a brown coat, browner eyes, and a mane even browner than that, jumped out from behind the oven.
“Ha, ha! GOTCHA!” she harked. “Yes, it is I, Princess Yeastrise Bakel, bringer of breakfast and lunch! Oh, my beloved subjects, it’s been so long since I’ve seen your precious, little food-loving faces!”
“Oooh, she’s good!” said the pink pony, before Slice shoved another apple in her mouth.
“Does MY crown no longer count now that I have been imprisoned for a thousand years?” asked a voice. Everypony looked around to see where the voice was coming from, but nopony could put a hoof on it.
Then a mare with a pale, light grayish mulberry coat, moderate violet eyes, and a mane of moderate sapphire blue with moderate violet and brilliant rose streaks stuck her head out of the dough in the giant baking pan next to the oven.
All of the ponies gasped.
“Who the hay are you?” asked a random pony in the audience.
“Did you not recall the legend?” asked the pony in the breadpan. Then she burst out of the breadpan, revealing herself to be an alicorn covered in dough who had a sparkling pancake for a cutie mark. “DID YOU NOT SEE THE SIGNS?”
“I did,” said Cakelestia, stepping forward. “And I know who you are. You’re--”
“Ooh, ooh, let me guess! Let me guess!” said the pink pony. “umm… Hokey Smokes! How about… Queen Meanie! No! Purple Snooty, Purple Snooty--”
Slice shoved another apple into the pink pony’s mouth.
“Thank you,” said the dough-covered Yeastrise.
“You’re… Bacon Pancake!” said Cakelestia dramatically.
Everypony gasped in horror. Except for Pancake, of course, who just cackled.
“Ha ha ha ha ha, yes, it is I, Bacon Pancake!” said Bacon Pancake. ”Then you also know why I’m here?”
“You’re here to… to….” trembled Cakelestia.
Bacon Pancake snapped her finger-hooves and suddenly Princess Yeastrise disappeared with a flash of light. As the ponies gasped, Bacon Pancake just giggled maniacally.
“Remember this morning, little ponies, for it was your last” said Bacon Pancake. “From this moment forth, THE BREAKFAST… WILL LAST… FOREVER!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Thunder roared from dark clouds. The same hungover high school freshmen who did the fanfare were now trying to play something epic, but were failing so miserably that not even the direction of Daniel Ingram could save them. A look of fear shot across Cakelestia’s face, and the face of everypony else in the crowd, but the focus was on Cakelestia’s face since nopony is supposed to care about the background ponies. It looked as though the chapter was about to end and the readers would be thrust into a commercial break...
But suddenly, a colorful rainbow shot down from the sky and three ponies slid down it. The rainbow and the ponies landed on the stage, right in front of Bacon Pancake.
“Halt, in the name of baking!” cried the first pony, a male unicorn with a light amber coat, moderate sap green eyes, and a moderate orange mane. He had a spherical tube of dough slathered in a pink sugary paste for a cutie mark.
“Yeah, stop right there, criminal scum!” cried the second pony, a male pegasus with a very pale cornflower blue coat, moderate emerald green eyes, and a dark grayish phthalo blue mane. He had a cutie mark of a bolt of electrical energy that must have drank some Redbull because it had wings.
The third pony, a pegasus mare with a light sapphire bluish gray coat, a pale, light grayish apple green mane, and eyes which shone from a gradient of pale, light grayish apple green to moderate gamboge (they were yellow-ish), and a cuite mark consisting of seven transparent spheres of various sizes, began to sing:
“My little pony, my little pony, isn’t the world a lovely place? My little pony, my little pony, everywhere you go, a smiling face! Smiling and skipping, merrily tripping, watching the morning un--”
Slice climbed onto the stage and shoved an apple in her mouth, silencing her. During her song, Cakelestia and the pink pony, acting as if they were actors who had missed their cue, had hurriedly gone onto the stage and took their places beside the three ponies from the rainbow, pretending as if they had slid down from the rainbow too.
“You’ll never get away with this, Bacon Pancake!” said Cakelestia. “For we are the bearers of the Elements of-- hey, where’s Gilda?”
A griffon with a coat of moderate gamboge, wings of a darker moderate gamboge, a head of white feathers, light brilliant amber eyes, and talons of brilliant gold lumbered onto the stage. She had no cutie mark since griffons don’t have cutie marks.
“Seriously guys?” she asked. “Why did it have to be this early? 6 AM? Really?”
“Because that’s when the Bake-Off starts!” said the pink pony through gritted teeth. “It’s tradition!”
“Yeah? Well, it’s a stupid tradition,” said the griffon. “Couldn’t it just be an hour later so we can all get more sleep?”
There were several murmurs of agreement. Somepony proposed making a petition to Princess Yeastrise to change the hour of the start of the Bake-Off, which was met with more murmurs of agreement. Somepony ran off to go get paper and quills.
“SILENCE!!!” boomed Bacon Pancake. “Your little princess is not here right now, and there is nothing you can do about it! With the princess gone, all of Bakequestria will bow to my will!”
Just then, storm clouds and lightning filled the sky. At first everypony thought that Bacon Pancake did it for dramatic effect, but then a bunch of green dragons flew down from the sky.
“Ahhhh! It’s the Stratadons!” cried a pony.
“Stratadons?” shrieked another.
As the dragons came closer, the townsponies all ran away screaming and seeking shelter… well, most of them. A few of the braver ones stuck around to see what would happen next, and a few of them whipped out cell phones and began recording.
During the commotion, the dragons swooped down and snatched up four ponies: a pink pony, a yellow pony with a blue mane, a light yellowish gray unicorn with a brilliant amaranth mane with streaks of moderate purple and grayish violet, and a small purple filly.
One of the dragons was being ridden by a gargoyle with moderate orange fur. Upon capturing the four ponies, the gargoyle declared,
“You are all doomed! Soon everypony will belong to Teawreck, the master of the Castle of Darkness!”
Then the dragons all flew away and the clouds dissipated. The ponies who were still in the square, realizing that all the action was over, started packing up and heading home. President Mare and her entourage got back in their motorcade and returned to her palace. The six element bearers had a team huddle, then ran off towards the Castle of Darkness to save the four captured ponies. Slice and Bacon Pancake just stood there, dumbfounded at all that had happened. Then, once everypony had left except for Slice and Bacon Pancake and a few random janitor ponies who had emerged from the shadows to clean the square of litter and festival debris.
“Wha- what?” asked Bacon Pancake. “Where did everypony go? This isn’t over, you know! I still have Princess Yeastrise in my captivity, and I’m going to serve eternal breakfast, and, and--”
“Yeah, yeah, nopony cares,” said Slice. “It’s not like anypony actually respected Princess Yeastrise or anything. And besides, those Stratadons made a much scarier entrance.”
“Well then,” said Bacon Pancake. “I just may have to change my plans a little bit to make them more… scary!”
“Ha! You wish!” said Slice. “Teawreck’s obviously a better villain than you!”
“We’ll see about that,” said Bacon Pancake. “He may have made a more spectacular entrance, but soon the ponies will realize just how bad I will make their lives! HAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Yeah, whatever,” said Slice. “I’m going back to the treehouse to play COD.”
Slice opened the door. Standing before it was a goldish gray mailstallion holding a shitload of letters.
“Sorry to bother you sir,” said the mailpony, “But you haven’t been collecting your mail for the past two weeks, and I was getting worried, especially since some of these are bills.”
“Um, sure...” said Slice. “I’ll take them.”
“Okay,” said the mailpony with a tip of his hat. “Take care.”
Slice closed the door and brought all the mail to the kitchen table. He rifled through the bundles of paper, throwing out the all junk mail (which was most of it) and placing everything addressed to Cakelestia on the table. He wasn’t expecting anything for himself, having long since removed all of his business from the untrustworthiness of the ‘snail mail’ in favor of the ultra fast, high-tech world of email, streaming, and cloud computing. He wasn’t disappointed, either: there was absolutely nothing addressed specifically to him.
Once all the mail had been sorted, Slice, out of both curiosity and a total disregard for other people’s privacy, tore open every envelope addressed to Cakelestia and rifled through her mail. They were mostly letters from old friends, asking how she was doing and saying how much they missed her, blah, blah, blah, but there was one letter in particular that stood out to Slice.
It was a red letter that came in a red envelope. It read as follows:
Dear Princess Cakelestia:
Your balance has not been paid as of the date of this notice. As a result and according to the terms of service in our contract, various fines and fees have been added to your total balance. Your current balance is 10,000 bits. This entire balance must be paid immediately! This is a serious matter and your urgent attention is required. Failure to act promptly will result in a visit from the Repo Pony, who will ‘reponyssess’ your TV and your video game console as compensation.
Sincerely, the CONcast Corporation.
P.S.: You may disregard this notice if you have already paid us.
Slice was mortified. The cable company was threatening to come to his treehouse and steal his TV and his Hexbox unless he paid them 10,000 bits!
“How dare they?” cried Slice. “This is extortion! But I don’t have the money to pay them, and they know that! They’re probably just doing this because they’re fundie moral guardians who want to take away my vidya gaems.”
Slice tried to figure out a way to defeat the ‘moral guardian fundies’ himself, but he couldn’t think of anything except paying the protection money.
“I must go find Princess Cakelestia!” he declared. “Maybe she can pay the protection money. After all, she has a credit card!”
Spike dashed out into the street and accosted the first civilian pony he could find: a pale persian blue pegasus mare with a cutie mark of a cloud in front of a sun.
“Hey, you, cloudpony!” said Slice. “I’m being threatened by the fundie moral guardians and they want me to pay them protection money so they don’t steal my vidya gaems but i don’t have the money but that white alicorn pony Cakelestia does but she ran off to go save Princess Yeastrise got ponynapped and now I’m trying to find her do you know where her kidnapper took her?
“Uhhh...” said the cloudpony, ”Can you slow down and repeat that?”
“Ugh, fine,” groaned Slice. “There are these ponies who want me to pay them protection money...”
“You’re being harassed for protection money?” asked the cloudpony. “By somepony besides the mayor?”
“Yeah,” said Slice. “And they want me to pay them now, but Cakelestia has the money.”
“But Cakelestia went to go rescue Princess Yeastrise,” said the cloudpony.
“I know that,” said Slice. “So I’m trying to find her. Can you tell me where she went?”
“Well...” said the cloudpony, “You might be too late for that. Cakelestia and her five friends have been gone for two weeks.”
“I don’t care,” said Slice. “I need to find her, dead or alive. Which way did she go?”
“”Woah there,” said Slice. “She went that-a-way, to the Neverfree Forest. Said something about there being a big scary old castle of darkness in there.”
“Kthxbye,” said Slice as he raced off towards the forest.
“Uhhh, you’re welcome?” said the cloudpony confusedly as she watched the dragon manchild zip towards the woods.
Princess Yeastrise Bakel sat in a cage, groaning and writhing, suffering degrees of pain beyond measure. Just a few feet away from Yeastrise’s cage there was a TV playing a short music video on infinite loop.
The video featured an animated anthropomorphic yellow blob frying some bacon in a pan over a stove while singing:
“Bacon pancakes, makin’ bacon pancakes, take some bacon and I’ll put it in a pancake. Bacon pancakes, that’s what it’s gonna make, bacon pancaaaaaaaaaake!”
Then the video repeated, with the same blob frying the same bacon while singing the same lyrics. Slice swore he heard the instrumental of Jay Z’s ‘Empire State of Mind’ (featuring Alicia Keys) playing in the background, perhaps with Keyboard Cat on piano.
“NO!” screamed Yeastrise in anguish. “STOP IT! NO MORE, NO MORE! FINE! I SURRENDER! PLLLEEEEEEAAAASSEEEEEEE! JUST MAKE IT STAAAAHHHHHPPP!”
A shadowy hooded figure emerged from the shadows and pushed a hoof on the TV’s off button. In its place, some quiet yet still mildly tension-inducing music played in the background for dramatic effect.
“So, you’ve finally heard enough of my theme song?” asked the shadowy hooded figure. Then it flung its head back, unhooding the shadowy figure in the process and revealing its identity to be none other than….
Bacon Pancake!
“Or would you like to hear a little more?” asked Bacon Pancake.
“Two… weeks...” rasped Yeastrise. “Two weeks of that… atrocious… theme song… nonstop! No more!”
“Yeah, I do admit that it’s pretty lame,” said Bacon Pancake, “But I needed something that was breakfast related, you know? And that song fits me just perfectly!”
Bacon Pancake giggled to herself for a bit, then adopted a more serious demeanor.
“But now back to business.”
Bacon Pancake used her alicorn magic to unlock Yeastrise’s cage, then she levitated Yeastrise into a chair facing a fancy table. Bacon Pancake took a seat at the chair on the opposite end of the table.
“These are my demands:” began Bacon Pancake, “First: I demand that you pay me, out of the Royal Treasury,... ONE MILLION CHITS!”
Yeastrise burst out laughing. “Oh, Bacon Pancake!” she said, “Who are you, Dr. Evil?”
“No...” said Bacon Pancake, offended. “It’s just that this evil lair was really expensive, and I need reimbursement for it.”
“Come on, Pancake,” said Yeastrise. “The treasury of Bakequestria should not have to reimburse you for doing evil things against it.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate!” said Bacon Pancake. “You’re still my prisoner!”
“Then why did you-” said Yeastrise, “-ugh, never mind. Fine, the already bankrupt treasury of Bakequestria will reimburse you for your evil lair, but certainly not one million chits. There’s no way this place cost that much.”
“You’re right,” said Bacon Pancake. “This place didn’t cost all that much. Especially since it’s in the Neverfree Forest. But I still need one million chits so I can pay my minions.”
“What minons?” asked Yeastrise. “I haven’t seen any minions around here. You’ve been working alone since day one.”
“I may have been working alone to handle you,” said Bacon Pancake, “but I still hired some minions. You know, to guard the castle.”
“Prove it,” said Yeastrise. “Show me that these minions really exist.”
Bacon Pancake made a sigh of exasperation, but she had no choice but to follow the command.
“SYRUPBOLTS!” she cried in her Royal Caps Lock Voice. “RETURN TO MY CHAMBERS AND PROVE TO MY PRISONER THAT YOU EXIST!”
After a few minutes, several ponies outfitted in scarlet tunics with blue gorget patches on their collars and epaulettes of navy blue, riding breeches of midnight blue which bulged at the thighs and had yellow stripes running down the seam of each leg, brown leather riding boots, brown leather gloves, brown leather campaign hats, with brown leather Sam Browne belts featuring pouches carrying handcuffs and pistol magazines loaded with 9mm Parabellum rounds, and brown leather holsters containing Smith & Wesson Model 5946 semi-automatic pistols, stormed into the room and stood at attention.
“Syrupbolts reporting in, ma’am!” said the Syrupbolt closest to Bacon Pancake, who had three yellow chevrons and a crown on the upper sleeves of his tunic to distinguish him from the others.
“Sergeant Red Serge, prove to my prisoner that you exist,” commanded Bacon Pancake.
The sergeant stepped forward and faced Yeastrise.
“Your majesty, I exist,” he said.
“Ha, nice try!” said Yeastrise. “I know this is all just an elaborate illusion to scam Bakequestria out of more money, but I’m not falling for it!”
“Sergeant,” said Bacon Pancake, “shoot her.”
The sergeant whipped out his Smith & Wesson Model 5946 semi-automatic pistol and shot Yeastrise.
“Ow!” said Yeastrise. “You shot me!”
“Sorry,” said the sergeant.
“Now do you believe they exist?” asked Bacon Pancake.
“I believe that one exists,” said Yeastrise. “I don’t know about the other ones, though.”
“Syrupbolts, shoot her again” said Bacon Pancake.
The other Syrupbolts whipped out their Smith & Wesson Model 5946 semi-automatic pistols and pointed them at Yeastrise.
“No, don’t shoot me!” cried Yeastrise. “Okay, okay, I believe you now. All of them are real.”
“Good,” said Bacon Pancake. “And you’ll be paying for the cost of that bullet on top of that, by the way.”
“Fine,” grumbled Yeastrise. “Let’s just get this over with. What else do you demand?”
“I demand that I and my Syrupbolts be formally pardoned for shooting you,” said Bacon Pancake, “And that I be formally pardoned for all the havoc I wreaked when I interrupted the Summer Bake-Off and Oven Festival.”
“How about we just sweep that stuff under the rug?” asked Yeastrise. “We’ll pretend your Syrupbolt never shot me and that you had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
“But what will the castle staff say when you come back with a big bullet hole in you?” asked Bacon Pancake. “Surely they’ll suspect that something happened.”
“I have the perfect alibi” said Yeastrise. “I’ll tell them that I went on another hunting trip with Dick Cheney.”
“Fair enough,” said Bacon Pancake. “But I still have two other things.”
“Okay, what are those two other things?” asked Yeastrise.
“The first is that, upon your release,” said Bacon Pancake, “I will be allowed to resume my duty as the bringer of breakfast to Bakequestria.”
“Fine by me,” said Yeastrise. “It’s kind of a burden to have to serve two meals at once.”
“And my second demand,” continued Bacon Pancake, quickly getting out her phone and playing ‘Low of Solipsism’ on loudspeaker at the highest volume, “is that you open a restaurant that will serve breakfast… ALL DAY!”
“Oh no, it is possible,” said Bacon Pancake. “It’s possible as long as you believe.”
“Are you not already satisfied with the pancake house?” asked Yeastrise.
“The pancake house closes at 2 PM,” said Bacon Pancake. “I want a restaurant that serves pancakes at 2 AM!”
“2 AM!?” exclaimed Yeastrise in shock. “But that can’t be! Not even Taco Belle stays open that late!”
“As hard as it seems, we have to try,” said Bacon Pancake. “Otherwise, the gap between Fourthmeal and Breakfast will continue to be monopolized by convenience stores and sketchy Mexican restaurants!”
“But isn’t Waffle House open 24 hours? Surely they-” asked Yeastrise.
“WAFFLE HOUSE DOESN’T SERVE PAAAANNNCAAAAAKEEEES!!” cried Bacon Pancake.
The Syrupbolts sang along to the “Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh-aaaaaahhhhhh-aaaaaahhhh-aaaaahhhh” chorus at the end of the song as Yeastrise pondered this. She was absolutely devastated.
“H-how could this be?” she asked tearfully. “HOW COULD THEY DO THIS?!?”
“It was hard for me to accept too,” said Bacon Pancake. “But that’s how it is.”
“I don’t know,” said Bacon Pancake, “but it’s a dark knowledge that I’ve had to live with for the past thousand years.”
“B-but the Pancake House serves waffles,” said the teary Yeastrise. “Both the Original Pancake House and the International House of Pancakes!”
“And yet those bastards at Waffle House refuse to serve my delicious pancakes,” said Bacon Pancake. “Even though they had explicitly agreed to do so when they signed the Treaty of Azarath at the end of the Titan-Pancake War!”
“Indeed,” said Bacon Pancake. “The only reason I spared them from my full wrath was because they had enough sense to not serve The Accursed Dish.
“I don’t understand,” said Yeastrise. “Why would anypony be so audacious and stupid enough to break any of the terms of the Treaty of Azarath?”
“Because,” said Bacon Pancake, “They’re SOUTHERNERS!”
Yeastrise winced in horror as memories of rednecks flooded through her brain, like floodwater through the streets of a certain Louisiana city after a hurricane broke its levees. She feet sharp, jagged tires of muddy monster trucks driving all over her cerebral cortex, the foul odor of unwashed pony and mushy bayou mildew stinging her hippocampus, and she could feel the moonshine-soaked cocks of young cousin-cuddling stallions violently abrasing the interior of her spinal cord while millions of unaborted future GOP congresspony fetuses thumping her pituitary gland with their fetus-sized copies of the New Testament.
“YEASTRISE, SNAP OUT OF IT!!!” yelled Bacon Pancake.
This brought Yeastrise back to her senses.
“Oh, Pancake, what are we going to do?” she asked. “How are we going to stop the southernization, the mexicanization, and the convenience store-ization of our early morning snacks?!?”
“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” said Bacon Pancake, holding Yeastrise in an embrace. “We’re going to open a restaurant. But not just any kind of restaurant, we’re going to open a new kind of restaurant. A kind of restaurant that’s always open, that serves everything at anytime, a place where you can have pancakes for dinner and milkshakes for lunch! A place where, sixty years from now, guests will come to sit back, relax, and enjoy delicious, hearty meals 24/7, every day of the year, from breakfast anytime to satisfying lunches and dinners - if the guests are in the mood for it, the restaurant will be serving it - a place where you can go on in anytime, park yourself in a comfortable booth, take a seat at the counter - whatever you want. Trust me Yeastrise, when we open it, it won’t take long for you to understand why it will truly be Bakequestria’s Diner!”
Yeastrise could no longer hold back her tears of joy. The crystalline teardrops of life flowed from her eyes like the water from the penis of that one statue in Brussels. She was happy, now freed from the oppressive meal schedules, now free to eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and free from the constraining monopoly on early morning hunger relief which the vile Mexican convenience store owners from Dixie had forced Bakequestria to endure for a thousand years.
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light.
“Uggghhh...” moaned one of the Syrupbolts, who had been knocked off her hooves and onto the ground. “My head!”
“I-i-is everypony okay?” asked another, who was also on the ground.
“Oh, thank goodness!” cried a third, who was eagerly looking at her ?.
“Why, it’s so lovely!” said a fourth, who was admiring the third pony.
“I know!” cried the third pony, who was nuzzling her pistol. “I’ll never part with it again!”
“No, your epaulettes” said the fourth. “It looks just like your cutie mark!”
“Woo-ooh?” said the third pony, who was looking at her epaulettes with surprise. Then, looking at the fourth pony, she added, “So do yours!”
The fourth pony looked at her epaulettes and gasped in delight.
“Look at mine! Look at mine!” cried a fifth as she bounced over to the second. The second cast an appreciative glance at the fifth’s epaulettes.
“Awww, yeah!” said the first, admiring her own epaulettes.
The explosion of light had made Pancake’s tiara abnormally twinkly, which she now gazed upon with great pleasure.
“Gee, Pancake,” said the second Syrupbolt, “Ah thought you were just spoutin’ a lot of hooey. But I reckon… we really do represent the elements of--”
Suddenly, an empty coffee cup with a rolled up rim hit the side of her head. Its thrower, another Syrupbolt, shouted, “Go back to Calgary, you hoser!”
“Indeed you should,” said Pancake.
“Bacon Pancake” yelled Slice, coming out from the corner he had been eavesdropping behind.
“Slice, my sister’s faithful student’s unfaithful assistant,” said Pancake. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”
“But-- Princess Yeastrise told me I was supposed to help supervise the festival, but you--”
“She told you that you needed to lose some weight,” said Pancake, “Not gain more.”
Then she turned to face a brown alicorn (otherwise known as a ‘brownicorn’) who was lying on the floor. The brownicorn looked up with eyes that were at first sheepish, but then grew wide in fear when they saw Pancake. The brownicorn also gasped in shock, but the gasp came a few miliseconds after the eye opening because light travels faster than sound.
“It has been a thousand years since you have seen me like this,” said Pancake, who now appeared as a pale, light grayish mulberry coat, moderate violet eyes, and a mane of moderate sapphire blue with streaks of moderate violet and brilliant rose: otherwise the exact same physical appearance she had when she first appeared as Bacon Pancake, except in this form her mane was all messy with sticks and leaves in it and instead of a tiara she had a large pancake hanging over her forehead, with a slather of whipped cream dripping down her face, and chocolate chips and various colors of sprinkles affixed to the whipped cream.
Pancake knelt down beside the brownicorn, who was quivering in fear.
“Time to put our differences behind us,” said Pancake. “We were meant to cook together, little sister.”
“Sister?” gasped Slice and all of the Syrupbolts.
“Will you accept my friendship?” asked Pancake.
The brownicorn looked away in shame for a second, then turned her head back to face Pancake.
“I’m so sorry!” cried the brownicorn. “I missed you so much, big sister!”
“I’ve missed you too!” said Pancake as the two embraced.
One of the Syrupbolts blew her nose and cried like Niagra Falls.
“Laa-aame!” shouted Slice, ruining the moment. “I came here to find Princess Cakelestia, not some namby-pamby reunion scene.”
“Well, so-rry!” said Yeastrise the brownicorn. “If the return of my sister Princess Pancake isn’t good enough for you, then you should just leave!”
“I’m sorry,” said Princess Pancake. “But your princess is in another castle.”
“Are you telling me that I came all the way out here to the middle of the Neverfree Forest for NOTHING?!?” asked a now enraged Slice.
“Oh, no, no, no,” said Princess Pancake. “Teawreck’s Castle of Darkness is right next door. I remember Cakelestia and her friends went in there, but I don’t recall ever seeing them come out.”
Slice was off in a jiffy, speeding out of the room and gone in a flash. Princess Pancake just sighed and murmured something about how she wished she could have had a cool castle like Teawreck as an evil lair but instead had to settle with the one she had now because she couldn’t afford it.
The gargoyle with moderate orange fur whose ponynapping that had upstaged Bacon Pancake’s ponynapping two weeks before now trembled before the might of a giant centaur with an azureish black lower body, a pitch black extremely buff chest, bulky raspberry red arms, a raspberry red face stuck in an eternal grimace, dark sapphire bluish gray horns, and hooves that were light lime greenish gray with amberish gray clefts. The centaur sat on a giant throne made entirely of iron swords, while sipping tea from a teacup and saucer he held in his hands.
“That purple pony is too small,” said Teawreck. “It needs to be bigger to pull my chariot.”
“But--” said the gargoyle, but Teawreck interrupted.
“If by midnight my chariot does not roll, then your head will!”
Just then an armored dragon wielding a battle axe approached Teawreck’s side.
“Well?” Teawreck snapped, clearly irritable about the interruption.
The dragon whispered something into Teawreck’s ear. A few tears of sweat slid down the gargoyle’s face as he worried about what was about to happen.
“Ha-- excellent!” said Teawreck. Then, turning back to address the gargoyle, he said, “But as for you, Scorpanegger, you--”
But the gargoyle had vanished. Teawreck was shocked.
“Scorpanegger?” he asked, but he received no reply. “SCORPANEGGER!?!”
Scorpanegger smashed through the door of the dungeon. This startled Slice, who had been caught snooping around the castle by the guards and thrown in a holding cell.
“It’s okay, Slice,” said the purple filly who was his cellmate. “He’s my friend!”
Scorpenegger approached Slice’s cell.
“We’re getting out of here,” he said, “RIGHT NOW!”
Then he ripped the iron door off the cell and threw it aside. Then he motioned for Slice and the purple filly to follow him.
“Come with me if you want to live,” he said.
Meanwhile, the same sextet who had jumped onto the stage two weeks before to confront Bacon Pancake before she got upstaged by Scorpanegger and Teawreck’s stratadons, opened a rusty wooden door and entered a long, dark hallway.
“This place is like a maze,” declared the pony who was leading the way, a light fuschia-ish gray alicorn with pale, light grayish magenta eyes and a mane consisting of sparkling stripes of light cerulean, light turquoise, very light cobalt blue, and light heliotrope, and with a cutie mark of a piece of cake, who was known by her friends as ‘Cakelestia.’
“How are we ever gonna find Princess Yeastrise?” asked the pony following immediately behind Cakelestia, [Bow Tie].
“We’ve just gotta keep lookin’” said the perky pink earth pony with really fluffy hair in a cheery voice, for whom maintaining a sunny disposition amidst even the most perilous of circumstances was a personal virtue.
As the unicorn with a light amber coat, moderate sap green eyes, a moderate orange mane and a spherical tube of dough slathered in a pink sugary paste for a cutie mark trailed behind the group, he did not notice the dragon who had been creeping up behind him until the last second, giving him only enough time to gasp in shock before the dragon muffled his mouth and carried him away.
Meanwhile, his companions just kept going, completely unaware of their friend’s sudden disappearance. They pushed open a pair of large, heavy doors and emerged into a large chamber.
“This must be Teawreck’s throne room!” said the pegasus mare with a light sapphire bluish gray coat, a pale, light grayish apple green mane, and eyes which shone from a gradient of pale, light grayish apple green to moderate gamboge (they were yellow-ish), and a cuite mark consisting of seven transparent spheres of various sizes.
“Umm… has anyone seen Donut Joe?” asked the griffon with a coat of moderate gamboge, wings of a darker moderate gamboge, a head of white feathers, light brilliant amber eyes, talons of brilliant gold, and no cutie mark since griffons don’t have cutie marks, who, being second-to-last in the group’s line, had just looked behind her and saw that the light amber stallion was no longer behind her.
Then two dragons came out from the darkness of the room and shut the door, startling the group.
“He ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaa!” laughed Teawreck, emerging from the darkness. Then he asked, “So, you seek the Darkbow of Doomness?”
“Umm, no,” said the pink pony, “we’re looking for Princess Yeastrise. But we’d be happy to take the Darkbow of Doomness if you want.”
“No,” said Teawreck. “You cannot take the Darkbow of Doomness, because it is mine, and so is your friend!”
He pointed to his right, where a few of his dragon soldier minion thingys were hitching the light amber unicorn to a pitch black 2016 Mustang GT350R which already had the pink pony named Cotton Candy, the yellow pony with a blue mane named Bubbles, and the light yellowish gray unicorn with a brilliant amaranth mane with streaks of moderate purple and grayish violet, hitched to it.
“Why do you need ponies… to pull a car?” asked the gamboge griffon cynically.
“Gil-da!” hissed the pink pony with a fluffy mane. “You’re ruining the moment!”
“Because gas is expensive,” said Teawreck. “Seriously! The price of oil closed today at--”
But just then, Scorpanegger burst through the door, restoring the dramatic tension.
“Run, ponies!” he said, punching a dragon guard in the face.
“Yeah-hoo! Let’em have it!” cheered the pink pony with a fluffy mane, but Scorpanegger just picked her up and ran out of the room with the cynical gamboge griffon and the rest of the ponies who weren’t chained to Teawreck’s 2016 Mustang GT350R.
“Seize them!” bellowed Teawreck, and his guards began to give chase, but they all hit the door just after Scorpanegger closed it to slow them down.
Scorpanegger and the ponies came to a dead end at the top of a tower. Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently and cracks of thunder and lightning filled the sky.
“Get back inside!” yelled Scorpanegger, but just as he said it, the door to the inside exploded. Out of the hole in the wall left by the explosion burst Teawreck atop his 2016 Mustang GT350R, whipping the four ponies hitched to it to make them go faster.
“Hue hue hue hue hue hue hue hue hue!” laughed Teawreck as he drove his 2016 Mustang GT350R off the roof of his tower.
“The Darkbow of Doomness that Doomness sends!” cried Teawreck, “Now begins the night that never--”
But before he could finish his sentence, a very dark cornflower blue alicorn with a sparkly brilliant phthalo blue mane, moderate cyan eyes and moderate blue violet eyebrows wearing light sapphire blue eyeshadow and a cutie mark of a moon showed up from out of nowhere and kicked Teawreck in the nuts while shouting, “Bu benim çizgi!” (“That’s my line!” in Turkish)
“Noooo!” shouted Tirek as the bag containing the Darkbow of Doomness fell out of his grasp and down to the ground. It landed in front of Cakelestia, spilling its contents onto the ground.
“We have a power of our own, Teawreck!” said Cakelestia. Then she took out a little heart container on the end of a small necklace chain and opened it. “Behold the power of Gayness!”
A rainbow came out of the heart container, mounted the Darkbow of Doomness, and started humping it.
“No!” cried Teawreck, but it was too late. As the Rainbow of Gayness humped the Darkbow of Doomness, his 2016 Mustang GT350R crashed through the tree canopy of the Neverfree Forest and hit the ground because he hadn’t considered the fact that none of the ponies he had captured had any wings and thus were unable to fly, and that even if they were pegasi, that the average pegasus is incapable of lifting a 3,715 pound car, let alone a fourth of it.
“Hrrraahhhhh, hrrraahhhhh!!!!” cried Teawreck in agony as his car hit the ground.
