Rarity's Delicious Dilemma
The wafting aroma of freshly baked bread grows ever stronger as you near Sugarcube Corner. You climb up the steps to the open door and enter the giant gingerbread house.
Gummy the Alligator sits atop the otherwise unattended front counter with his toothless maw wide open, as if daring you to stick a hoof in. Pinkie must’ve left the odd reptile to ‘man’ the shop while she went off to do who-knows-what. Before you can even begin to wonder where Ponyville’s resident party pony could’ve went, the clatter of pans and faint singing in the back kitchen quickly solves that mystery.
You take a look around and manage to spot Rarity sitting at a table on the far side of the room. It seems she’s already seen you; she waves hello and beckons your approach. You take her up on her invitation, walking across the parlor and taking the open seat next to her.
“Hello there Anonymous, what a pleasant surprise to see you today. Here to see Pinkie Pie I presume? I’m afraid you might be in for a bit of a wait, seeing as how she’s preparing some special mystery treat with which to tempt me once again. Ah, do beg pardon. I can see some explanation wouldn’t be amiss. You see, I’ve recently put myself on a diet...”
Pinkie Pie’s voice suddenly explodes from the kitchen, “WE DON’T USE THE ‘D’-WORD IN THIS BAKERY!”
Rarity continues, “Riiight. I am on a..,” she pauses to think for a moment, “...a ‘strict nutritional regimen’ and every day since Pinkie has been trying to goad me into breaking it with sweet after sweet. No ill will intended I’m sure. I suppose she feels guilty, eating cakes and whatnot, while I make do with more healthy fare. Don’t hold it against her; you know how she can get. And rest assured, I don’t intend on cheating my ‘regimen.’ Beauty is pain after all.”
Speaking of, the kinetic pink mare in question bursts forth from the kitchen door rear-first. Sitting atop Pinkie’s back is a covered silver platter, its mysterious contents hidden from view. Pinkie swings about on her heels and nearly traipses on over to you and Rarity. She expertly arches her back and deposits the silver platter onto the table with all the ease and grace of a prima ballerina.
“Hiya Anon! I’m glad you’re here. I’m gonna kill this diet so bad that they’ll call you up as a witness at its murder trial. And yes, I know I just used the ‘d’-word. My penance shall be twenty-one days and twenty-one nights of cookie binging. Follow not in my path, for it is one paved with tummy aches and sugar comas for the unprepared.”
Rarity chimes in, “You’re not going to win this silly challenge you've set up for yourself, sweetie. Little black dresses are en vogue and I’ve been meaning to slim down for a while now anyways. Believe me, I enjoy a delectable sweet or two as much as the next gal, but no pastry nor candy is worth committing fashion faux pas. And there is nothing beneath that lid capable of convincing me otherwise. So la-di-da~!”
Pinkie retorts, “Oh, is that so? Well guess what? I just changed up my game plan! I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing you all that junk food before. I shoulda known any old cake wasn’t gonna be good enough for you. Well, this one’s a doozy, so get ready to eat those words! And this doozy! Feast your eyes! Also, your mouth!” Pinkie bites down on the lid’s handle and lifts, revealing-
Rarity’s eyes grow wide as saucers, as if her very eyeballs were eagerly devouring the mere image of the unveiled delicacy. With equal measure awe and disbelief, she stammers out, It can’t be. My eyes deceive me. Is that a Courtesan au Chocolat?”
Sitting on the silver plate is what can only be described as an ornately decorated tower o’ pastry. The tower is constructed of three bonbon-shaped pastries of different sizes, with the largest one (glazed in lavender icing) serving as the base, the middling (glazed pale green) in the middle, and the smallest (glazed light pink) sitting daintily at the very top, itself topped with a single cocoa bean.
Rarity turns to you and says, “I was lucky enough to partake in this delectable delight the last time Pinkie and I were in Canterlot. I would’ve loved to bring a few back for the girls, but unfortunately they’re made in a single bakery by a single chef, and they do not take well to travel. Oh, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking a day off and hopping aboard a train to Restaurant Row just to taste its chocolatey goodness again. Pinkie! How in Celestia’s name did you acquire a Courtesan? It looks fresh out of the oven! Don’t tell me...”
An uncharacteristically silent Pinkie Pie beams with self-indulgent pride. Given how much Rarity is gushing over the thing, simply getting her hooves on it must’ve been quite the achievement in of itself.
Rarity on the other hoof seems unable to stop talking, “You have the recipe!? B-but, not even the Café le Grand’s sous chefs are permitted to make Courtesans! How on Earth did you convince Chef Gustave to give you the recipe to his culinary magnum opus? I can’t even imagine what you could have given him in exchange. Money? A Pinkie Pie Planned Party? An endorsement from the Element of Laughter herself? Some other favor?” Rarity’s voice trails off at that last word.
Pinkie finally answers, “Naw, I just asked him real nice like.” Rarity cocks an eyebrow, looking understandably unconvinced. Pinkie adds, “That’s the truth, I swear! What can I say? Who can say ‘no’ to this face?” Pinkie Pie smiles a Pinkie Pie smile.
Yeah, you’d give that smile a trade secret or two. Maybe paint that smile on a banner and carry it into battle. Overthrow the monarchy and establish an authoritarian government just to see that smile. Fan the fires of war and spill blood in the name of that smi-
Rarity interrupts your train of thought with an odd sound, something of a cross between a squeal of delight and a cry of frustration. “Oh darling of mine, what a predicament you’ve put me in. Do I dare risk an ever expanding waistline to once again sample the choux ambrosia set before me? Or do I remain faithful to the tempestuous mistress that is haute couture? I’m so torn!” Rarity throws her head back dramatically.
“Come on Rarity, just a nibble. You know you want to,” Pinkie says, nearly whispering into her ear at this point.
Rarity cries out, “Anon! What do you think I should do?”
“Yes Anon, please help our dear friend.” Pinkie has a dangerous look in her eyes now, like staring straight down the edge of a knife.
Rarity might as well be drooling at this point, but knowing her, she’ll no doubt regret this lapse in mental fortitude come Fashion Week. Pinkie is obviously hoping you’ll be her final agent of dietary destruction.
You shrug your shoulders and offhoofedly tell Rarity to go for it. Your rationale is simple, but pragmatic; what’s the harm in eating one little pastry? After all, a diet can run for weeks or even months at a time. A treat every now and then would certainly help stave off the monotony of constantly eating healthily.
“Alright,” Rarity says, “But only a bite and not a crumb more. And only if the two of you will have the rest; the smallest ball will do just fine for me, thank you. Pinkie, would you be a dear and fetch three plates?”
Pinkie groans and slams her chin onto the tabletop, “Awww, do I gotta? Washing dishes is super unfun! Why don’t you just float them into our mouths?” She opens her mouth in such a manner that reminds you of a certain alligator at the front counter. You can’t help but wonder if that’s something Gummy taught his owner or vice versa.
Pinkie’s suggestion seems to fluster Rarity for a moment, “Ahem, are you asking that I pop it into your mouth like some flirty dinner date? Now Pinkie, seeing as how you’re not a unicorn, you may not know this, but feeding another pony with magic is a decidedly intimate gesture.” She pauses to think for a moment, “Granted we are all friends, I suppose I may, so long as it’s alright with Anon.”
[[Sure]]
“Alright, very well then. One last thing: I’d advise closing your eyes to best savor your first Courtesan.” You close your eyes as instructed and open your mouth. Presumably, Pinkie and Rarity are doing the same. A medium-sized pastry ball is sat upon your tongue. For a brief moment, you can nearly ‘taste’ Rarity’s magic; you get a feel for the essence of her being on a level that simple conversation could never reach. Like two souls merged in one, you share in all her goals, her hopes, her dreams. The fleeting sensation disappears as quickly as it arrives.
With nothing left to do, you close your mouth and bite down. The crispy outer layer of pastry and sugary glaze gives way as an explosion of rich chocolate crème floods your mouth. The dark chocolate cream, nearly custard-like in consistency and fudge-like in taste, is without a doubt the most intense cocoa flavor you’ve ever tasted; sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, with just a welcome hint of bitterness.
You can even taste trace amounts of Rarity’s magic mixed in, so even as your eyes are closed, Rarity is first and foremost in your thoughts. You swirl it about in your mouth, enjoying the flavors almost change and deepen as it washes over the different parts of your tongue. You can hear Rarity and Pinkie thoroughly enjoying themselves as well. You swallow, almost reluctantly so. You actually find yourself swabbing your tongue against your teeth to find any remaining cream hidden away in nooks and crannies.
You open your eyes and Rarity opens hers. You smile. She smiles back. You hope she won’t hate you too much when this chocolate-covered euphoria ends and she finds her old dresses are still as tight around the waist as ever. At least Pinkie Pie seems happy.