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Forbidden Knowledge · FiM Short Story ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 2000–8000
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Pinkie Pie Saves Equestria And/Or Bakes A Cake
Pinkie Pie Saves Equestria And/Or Bakes A Cake

The words writhed on the page, tracing out sinuous paths as they fought not to be read. There was a twisted logic to the patterns, a deep mystery that seemed to lie forever just at the corner of a pony’s eye. A pony could spend their lives unravelling the mysteries that the words kept locked within the twisted paths of letters.

“Okay book!” I snapped, rearing back onto my hind legs and jabbing a forehoof at the offending hardback. “This is your last warning. Be sensible or face the consequences!”

For a moment, the words stayed resolutely indecipherable. Then they shifted into the form of a long list.

“That’s better.” I dropped back down onto my hooves. “So, first we take the heart of a goat– Hey bad book!”

I picked up the book and slammed it against the counter.

“You’re a cookbook, do you understand? Now stop pretending you’re a dread tome and give me my recipes.” Fixing the book with hard glare I yanked it open to a random page. The text tried to escape off over the edge, but I stopped it with a hasty fold.

“Right, first we take eight eggs,” I read, my head cocked as I strained to read the twisting words. “Four hundred and fifty grams of flour.” I paused. “Wait. What the hay is a gram?”

Before the book could answer, a cheery chime echoed through Sugarcube Corner. I looked up as Twilight stepped through the door, her head buried in a thick book. I let out a low whistle as I set eyes on it.

“See,” I murmured to my tetchy cookbook, pointing at Twilight’s book. Wrapped in black leather and bound by thick clasps of steel and silver it radiated a subtle menace that seemed to chill the air despite the bright sunshine outside. “That’s a proper dread tome.”

The words in my cookbook shivered, twisting in on themselves until all that was left was a single black splodge at the centre of the page.

“Oh, do not start pouting on me,” I snapped, jabbing at the page.

“Huh?” Twilight looked up, her tome bobbing in her magical grip. “Oh, hi Pinkie. Did you say something?”

I put my best grin on. “Nope, I was just telling my cookbook to stop sulking. I’ve got to bake a cake in the next fifteen minutes or the world ends.”

Twilight paused, frowned, then shook her head. “O~kay. Anyway, mind if I stay here for a while? The library is a little noisy right now.”

“Sure, there’s always room for a friend at Sugarcube Corner.” I glanced out across the empty tables, my smile wavering. “Especially during the three p.m. doldrums.”

“Thanks Pinkie. The unholly screaming was really making it hard to study.” She let out a little sighed, then seemed to catch sight of my confusion. “Oh, right. Sorry I didn’t explain.” She put on her best ernest grin. “I’ve got a teinsy infestation in my basement. It’s contained, but there is currently a reality warping abomination in the library. I’ll have it banished as soon as I get some peace and quiet to do some studying.”

I cocked my head. Twilight was so hard to read sometimes, I had to wonder whether she really was on top of things or subtly asking for help.

“Okie Dokie Loki,” I said at last, deciding on the former. Twilight was a smart cookie, smarter even than those gingerbread ponies that kept escaping the display case. “I’ve got one of those too. It’s in the oven right now too. I think it’s here for cake but it doesn’t seem to like the ones I usually make. If you figure anything out let me know.”

“Oh Pinkie, you’re so random,” Twilight said with a giggle. “Seriously though, I do need to get some study done. Can I get a slice of cheesecake?”

I saluted. “Right away Twilight.” I bounded off into the kitchen, leaving the somewhat bemused unicorn in my wake.

The situation in the kitchen had not improved while I was at the counter. Geometry was starting to break down around the edges, light and lines drawn into towards the far wall by the inexorable stress of the hole in reality. Tendrils of darkness were creeping out across the walls, floor and ceiling, flooding the room with the scent of rot and death. At the centre of the twisted whirl, and withdrawing deeper into the darkness even as I watched, was the Cake’s new oven.

“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin and glanced at the clock, 3-4i past e. “That’s getting worse.” I had maybe twelve minutes to save Equestria. Shaking my head I made my way over to the oven and, with the wails of lost souls echoing in my ears, gave it a swift buck. There was a crack as reality slammed back into force, the twisted lines of unreality snapping back into something approximating normality.

I frowned at the oven. Darkness was pooling in the corners as the thing tried to infiltrate the room yet again. With a long sigh I retreated to the icebox and pulled out one of the backup cheesecakes. With a little more haste than such a delicious cake was due I carved a slice and placed the plate on my back.

“Hey, Twilight,” I said, trotting back into the main room. “What does your reality warping abomination look like? Because mine’s all black with long wiggly lines.”

Twilight gigglesnorted. “Oh Pinkie, mine is—” She flipped back through her tome. “—Nam'cabogyil, who’s described as ‘a great writhing mass of flesh and teeth, with six dozen eyes, three spines and many luminous nodules upon the beast’s titanic backs.”

I set down the cheesecake in front of her and rubbed my chin. “Huh, sounds like my great uncle Frank.”

“Pinkie, you are so random,” Twilight said, with another laugh.

I beamed. “If you can’t face the end of Equestria with a simile, I don’t know how you can face it.”

Twilight shook her head. “Well that’s certainly true. I mean look at these names. Calti’un. Zai’damni’shinu. Di’aeny.”

“Actually, it’s pronounced Diane. Umm, Twilight...” I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes to save Equestria. “You’re good with books right? Like, they don’t ever try and trick you into summoning eldar things.”

“Well this one did.” Twilight sighed, slamming the tome shut. “But I’m pretty good with the more mundane. Why do you ask?”

I grinned sheepishly, shuffling my forehooves. “I need some help with my cookbook,” I explained. “If I’m going to get this cake baked before the world ends I really need a hoof with the recipe.”

“Surely you know how to bake a cake?” Twilight said, frowning. “I’ve seen you make all sorts of things.” Her gaze darkened. “Sometimes when you clearly shouldn’t have been able to.”

“Oh sure. But that’s making cakes. I can do that all day, look.” I bounced onto the table, grabbed each side of the cheesecake plate with the tips of my hooves and did a pulltwist. For a moment reality fought against me, but it was a trick I’d performed many times before and with pop the desert separated into two identical plates of cheesecake.

Twilight goggled. “I...” She petered out, still staring.

“See,” I continued, paying no attention to Twilight’s catatonic state. She went into them a lot, it was generally best just to ignore them and carry on; Twilight always caught up eventually. “Baked cake—” I pointed at the original slice on the left. “—maked cake.” I pointed at the one on the right. “Oh wait, maybe it's the other way around.”

I frowned. That was going to bug me, the maked cakes never quite tasted the same as the Cake’s cakes, even though they were supposedly identical.

Twilight shook herself. “Huh. That was an... impressive trick. I didn’t know you knew any sleight of hoof, Pinkie.”

“Why did ponies keep calling it that anyway?” I enquired, looking down at my hooves.

“I think it refers to–”

An alarm rang out, cutting Twilight off before she could go into lecture mode. “Ack! That’s not important right now,” I exclaimed. “Can you please help me bake. Ple~ase. I’ve only got ten minutes left.” I clasped my forehooves together and sank to my knees, putting on my best pout.

“Alright, alright,” Twilight exclaimed, holding a foreleg over her eyes. “I’ll help you. Just put the puppy eyes away. I get enough of that from Spike when he’s after a sapphire”

“Woopie!” I picked up Twilight from her seat and carried her bodily to the kitchen, pausing only to hook my cookbook with my tail as we passed the counter.

Diving into the kitchen I grabbed a pair of chefs’ hats from between the scene transition and dropped them onto our heads. “Right, let's get to this before Equestria is destroyed again,” I exclaimed, depositing Twilight in front of the preparation table and slid her the cookbook. “Read this, don’t believe it when it tries to lie to you and we’ll all be eating cupcakes by the pond by sunset.”

Twilight shook the whirls out of her eyes and, sighing, adjusted her hat. “Whatever you say, Pinkie Pie. You know if you wanted me to bake with you you only had to ask. There doesn’t need to be an ‘abomination’ in the oven.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.” I swept her into a hug. “But we really need to get baking now.” I glanced over at the oven. Already the creeping darkness was clawing through into reality, the world twisting ever so slightly around the oven as if it were a fulcrum.

“Well, first we need flour,” Twilight said, lifting the cookbook in her magic. Her magic riffled through the cupboards as she spoke, drawing out crockery and bowls and setting them on the counter. “Eggs, milk–”

“Milk!” I exclaimed, slapping my forehead. “Shoot. I was supposed to pick up milk from Applejack. Quick, look over there!”

Twilight glanced over her shoulder, while she was distracted I leapt into the icebox and slammed the door closed after me. A moment later Applebloom opened the door and I bounded out into the Apple family kitchen.

“Pinkie Pie?” the little filly exclaimed, shying back. “Now how in the hay did you get in there?” She scratched her head with a forehoof.

“No time to explain,” I said, racing around the kitchen and sticking my head in cupboards after cupboard in search for milk. “I need to borrow three pints of milk and some jellybeans!”

Applebloom shot me a flat look. “My sister said under no circumstances was Ah to give you any more sugar.”

“Urgh, fine. But I need the milk to stop the world ending,” I protested, checking under the dresser. “Hey, there’s a pear down here.”

“You didn’t see that!” Applebloom exclaimed, pushing me away with surprising strength for a little filly. “There’s milk in the icebox, just take that and go.”

“Oh. Durh. Thanks Applebloom.” I leapt back into the icebox, grabbed a couple bottles of milk, and slammed the door shut after me.

A moment later I bounded out into Sugarcube Corner.

“Got the milk!” I announced, in a sing song voice, bouncing over to Twilight.

She started, looking up from the carefully sorted ingredients. “Oh, Pinkie you’re back already?” She frowned as I set down the bottles next to her. “Wait, don’t tell me you made it all the way to Sweet Apple Acres and back in under a minute.”

“Okay, I won’t,” I assured her. It was strange, for a pony who claims to love learning, Twilight sure said not to tell her things a lot.

Twilight pressed a hoof to her head. “I walked into that one. Okay are you ready to start baking?”

I glanced at the clock. 2.5π minutes left to save the world. “Absolutely!” I rolled up my foreleg fur. “What’s first?”

Twilight goggled for a moment, then shook her head. “Um... Five cups of flour.”

“Five cups of flour!” I poured half a bag into the bowl, raising a huge cloud of dust.

“Ahem, a half dozen eggs,” Twilight continued, blowing waving flour out of her face with a puff of magic.

“Half a dozen eggs!” With a string of rapidfire cracks I broke six eggs into the bowl.

“Milk as needed, and beat until well mixed.”

“Milk as needed!” I poured a slug of milk into the bowl, tapped a beater onto my hoof and attacked the batter.

Twilight rolled her eyes, a pink shield blossoming between us just in time to block the splatter. “Try and keep at least something in the bowl, Pinkie Pie,” she said, chidingly. “Now, next we need—” She giggled into her hoof. “—four drops of virgin’s blood.”

I froze mid beat. “What?” I exclaimed, doing a double take. “It really says that?”

“It really says that,” Twilight said, her tone deadly serious.

It didn’t seem right, but I only had √26 minutes left so I grabbed a knife.

“Wait, what are you–”

With a self conscious blush further pinking my cheeks I pricked my frog and a few drops of blood dribbled down into the batter.

For a moment nothing happened. Then a wave of unnatural stillness rolled over us like a cloying fog and my stomach did backflips. Twilight turned to me, her mouth working in utter silence as a question failed to escape her lips.

A moment later Tartarus broke loose.

The concussive shock of reality tearing at the seams picked up every loose object in the kitchen, including Twilight and I, and hurled them into the air. For a moment up was down, left was right and right was Tuesday before I hit a lamp and managed to cling on with all four legs. A purple blur raced towards me, screaming, and I hurled myself at Twilight, catching the airborne unicorn before she ended up encountering something sharp.

A moment later, reality—never one to just roll over when horrors from the space beyond spaces started playing around in its backyard—took notice and returned with a vengeance. Twilight and I hit the ground hard, followed by most of the lose crockery, a hundred or so pastries and a very petulant bowl of petunias.

“What the hay–” Twilight began, rubbing her head.

The bellow of the oven beast rent the air, hurling dust and debris across the room as the earsplitting roar slammed into us. Tentacles, because it’s always tentacles for some reason, tore open the oven’s doors as they groped blindly into the room.

“Aw, come on!” I exclaimed. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I’m going to be in for wrecking the Cake’s new oven?”

The tentacles froze, then turned as one to face me.

“Uh oh.”

“Pinkie, down!” Twilight roared, tackling me moments before the pony thick tendrils slammed into me. There was a flare of magic, a shield blossoming into life and hurling the tentacles away, and Twilight heaved with her horn, dragging a table between us and the oven monster. Another roar washed over us and we both scrambled behind the table as the tentacles renewed their assault, groping blindly around the kitchen for a pony-snack.

“Are you sure it was virgin’s blood we needed?” I yelled over the cacophony.

Twilight did a double take. “Of course it wasn’t virgin’s blood. It was a joke. A joke I thought you’d put in your cookbook!”

“Why would I be joking at a time like this?” I shot back, as a tentacle reached between us and Twilight blasted it with her horn. “This is a super-serious situation. Oh, that’s a fun thing to say, try it five times fast.”

“Pinkie, focus!” Twilight snapped, sticking her hoof in my mouth. I don’t know why ponies kept doing that, hooves don’t taste very nice and I’ve licked a lot of hooves. “We’re being invaded by beings from beyond mortal comprehension, we need to do something before all of reality is devoured.”

“Really, all of reality?” I pulled away from her hoof and poked my head over the table. Time and space were screaming in protest as the oven beast forced its way into the real world. The far wall seemed to be receding before my eyes and the oven—though still in tatters—was clearly larger than it had any right to be, squeezing out the cabinets as it rippled and pulsed with unclean energies. At the heart of writhing core of tentacles was a single blood red eye. I shudder ran down my spine as it snapped to me, spearing my soul with alien malice.

“Di’aeny!” the beast bellowed with a hundred screaming voices, shaking Sugarcube
Corner from foundation to shingle. A great mouth formed of thousands of writing mandibles forced its way through the expanding oven, the reek of decaying flesh spilling from it as it continued to scream. The tentacles, sized by sudden purpose hurled themselves towards me, but Twilight grabbed my tail and dragged me back behind the table.

“He doesn’t look hungry enough for all of reality. Equestria maybe,” I informed Twilight.

Twilight let out an angry huff. “Please do not look directly at the sanity devouring monstrosity.” There was a bang as one of the tentacles tried to batter through the table and Twilight casually lobbed a ball of lightning over the makeshift barricade. “Now, I think we can find a solution to this mess. We just need a book.”

A light went on above my head, although, a tentacle smashed it a moment later. “Of course! I knew you were a smarty pants. I’ll be right back.”

Before Twilight could raise a word of protest I leapt out from the cover of the table. The beast bellowed in rage, hurling its limbs towards me in a blind fury and I ducked, dived and dodged my way through the thrashing tentacles. I spied the book when I was halfway across the room and with my best hoofball lunge, I swept the book into my hooves.

“Got it!” I exclaimed, spinning on my hooves to face Twilight. “Oh...” A storm of tentacles descended on me. Furrowing my brow I threw myself forwards into the teeth of the maelstrom. Well, not teeth, if anything the tentacles were more slimy than spiky. After a few moments of panicked dodging I slid back into cover behind the table with Twilight with a wet squelch.

“Okay,” I began, shaking myself dry in a single explosion of movement. “Let’s see what the book says we need.” I wrenched it open and twisted the entire book ninety degrees as the words attempt to flush themselves onto another page.

“Pinkie Pie.”

“—Hmm, so half a dozen eggs,” I continued, titling my head even further to keep track. “The fresh stomach of a pig, four hundred ozzes of flowers.”

“Pinkie Pie!” Twilight snapped, yanking the book away from me. For a moment I wondered just when she’d learned to walk on the ceiling, but then realised I’d twisted my neck just a little too far.


Twilight brought her hoof to her face. She does that a lot, I don’t know why every time I’ve tried it it just hurt. “This is a cookbook. I need the book on dealing with formless abominations that I left in the main room.”

I frowned. “Really? Will it tell us the best kind of cake to cook the oven monster to make it go away?”

“Urgh.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes Pinkie,” she said, her voice utterly flat. “It’ll tell us the best kind of cake to make.”

There was another bang as one of the groping tentacles slammed into the side of the table. I let out a deep sigh as I regarded the twisting geometry of the kitchen. Already everything was taking on a stretched appearance, as if the entire world was twisting to the whims of the oven monster—which wasn’t far from the truth come to think about it.

“Fine,” I said, and threw myself back into the writhing mass of tendrils. A half minute and a dozen near misses later I skidded back into cover next to Twilight. “One dread tome as ordered.” I hefted it in one hoof. “It doesn’t feel heavy enough to have any monster mashing cake recipes, though.”

“Pinkie, that was sarcasm,” Twilight shot back, snatching the book from me with her magic. “Still, thank you. Now stand back. This is not going to be pretty.” Twilight’s aura spread the pages of the book wide. An unnatural chill rippled forth from the tome, a wash of malice that seemed to deepen every shadow in the shattered kitchen. From the oven beast a monstrous scream echoed, rattling the windows and the tentacles redoubled their assault on the table.

“Wait, so it’s not got any recipes?” I cut in, as Twilight stood up on her hind legs and ripped raw magic from their air herself and drew it into a blazing corona around her horn.

“No, Pinkie Pie, this does not have any recipies... Well not any recipes a pony could use without being banished to the nearest celestial body. Now please, this is written in a forgotten language not meant for pony tongues. I really have to concentrate.”

Another bellow rent the air and the table shattered beneath the onslaught of tentacles. A shield burst into sudden brilliance around Twilight and I, turning back the attack as she began to chant.

“Ellaclic kansia orabla kini.”

The monster screamed in fury, the tentacles writhing in sudden pain as the groped blindly around the room. Twilight’s horn was too bright to look at and a searing burst of magic leapt out to strike a tentacle that drew too close.

“Rnachoig orabla ser’ni kan—”

“Serxni,” I whispered, as loud as I could.

Twilight stumbled and turned to stare at me. “What?”

“Serxni. You missed out the silent ‘x’.”

For a moment silence stretched between us, broken only by the agonised keening from the oven monster.

“Urgh! I don’t have time for this.” Twilight rounded on the beast, her eyes going white as power flooded through her. “Rnachoig orabla ser’ni kanti!” Twilight roared as she unleashed a titanic bolt of magic.

I put on a pair of shades to watch. The bolt slammed into the monster and the alchemical fire splashed as it struck it’s single glaring eye, coating the tendrils and half the ktichen with ethereal flames.

There was a moment's silences as Twilight, the beast and I all realised that—while the spell was happily chewing through the back wall—it had had no effect on the monster.

“Told you you missed the silent ‘x’,” I said, sighing.

An earsplitting roar erupted from the monster as it took the opportunity to force its way further into reality. The kitchen rocked, the entire world shifting on its axis until it felt like we were standing on a steep hill with the oven beast at the base. Instantly Twilight and I began to slip, but the unicorn tore a line of floor up and hastily formed yet another barricade. As we ducked behind it, the tentacles renewed their assault on Twilight’s spellwork.

“Now is it time to bake it a cake?” I demanded.

“Pinkie Pie please!” Twilight shot back, wincing as the tentacles slammed into her shield yet again. “I’m trying to save Equestria. This is not the time to think about snacks!”

I stared at her in disbelief. “I’m trying to save Equestria, which is why it’s the perfect time to think about snacks! But if you’re going to be grouchy about it....”

“Pinkie Pie! I’m not going to help you bake when that thing—” She jabbed a hoof at the monster. “—is doing its best to devour our souls. I need to focus, right now, on kicking this thing back to Tartarus and beyond before things get any worse.”

“Urgh.” I threw up my hooves. How could such a smarty pants pony be so dumb all the time? “Well fine, I don’t need your help anyway.”

I threw myself back into the chaos of the kitchen. Twilight’s spell had done far more harm than good seeing as physics was definitely going brown and crispy around the edges, but at least she was keeping the tentacles focused on attacking her. The kitchen was not in a good state—it was going to take a lot of making to fix things up before the Cakes got home—but hidden in the back of one of the more intact cupboards was a mixing bowl.

“Right!” I declared, duct taping the bowl to a cracked countertop to stop it sliding away. “Flour.” I grabbed a bag as it went soaring over my head, thrown by an errant flick of a tentacle, and poured a slug of flour into the bowl. “Milk!” I leapt over to the icebox and grabbed a dozen bottles. Scampering back over a laser beam of magic I upended a whole bottle over the bowl. It went everywhere but enough made it into the flour to count. “Then... eggs?” There were a large number of eggshells in the detritus of the kitchen but nothing I could use. I shook my head and moved onto the next thing. “And then it was, urh... come on Pinkie, thinky... Sugar! Which we keep above the oven.”

I paused, and glanced down the kitchen to the oven monster. Twilight had managed to secure herself a broken broom handle and, with a few key runes of power, was using it to drive back the beast’s many tentacles. “Oh... Shoot.”

Bracing myself for another lecture I raced back across the room. “Twilight. I need to get some sugar!”

“Is this really the time?” Twilight demanded, parrying a tentacle with the broom handle and eliciting a scream of pain and rage from the monster.

“Yeah,” I shot back, ducking under another flailing limb. “It’s super important that I bake a cake right– WAIT!”

Both Twilight and the monster froze as a sudden shudder ran right down from my floppy ears to my tippy-tail. “Ear waggle, shimminies and wobbly knees!” I let out a gasp, my eyes going wide.

“Really, now your Pinkie Sense goes off?” Twilight said in a deadpan. “Not before the indescribable horror turned up?”

“No, it’s much worse than you think.” I pressed, grabbing Twilight by the lapels. “Somepony is about to break a Pinkie Promise. I’ve got to do something!”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“I know. Hold the fort I’ll be right back.” I burst into motion and before even the monster could react I was out of the kitchen and galloping upstairs. It took just a moment to reach my bedroom, pause to pat Gummy on the head and move his ball a little closer, and then dive into a mirror.

Travelling by mirror is always weird. The world around me turned to crystal glass, smooth and unyielding, and I hurried through the frozen reflection of Ponyville trying my best not to touch anything. Beyond the sheer sense of wrong there was a lingering paranoia that if I tripped and fell I’d shatter like Mom’s old vase. Still, there was no better way to get somewhere in a hurry and after just a few well timed blinks between reflective surfaces I found myself staring out of Rainbow Dash’s bathroom mirror.

“Urgh, Butterfly Migration,” Rainbow Dash muttered, shaking her head as she stepped out of the shower and spattering the glass with droplets of water. “What was I thinking?”

“Rainbow Dash!” I snapped, pressing my muzzle against the glass.

“Argh!” Rainbow leapt in surprise, flaring out her wings and almost tripping over her toilet. “Pinkie Pie?” She did a double take as she spotted me. “What are you... How are you in my mirror?”

“That’s not important right now.” I jabbed a hoof at her. “What’s important is that you promised Fluttershy that you’d go to the Butterfly Migration with her. She’ll be devastated if you don’t.”

“Urgh, really?” Rainbow Dash slumped. “It’s going to be so boring.”

“You promised,” I shot back. “And breaking a promise to a friend is the fastest way to lose that friend forever.”

Rainbow Dash made a face and crossed her forelegs. “Okay, fine. I’ll go to the stupid Butterfly Migration. But, I don’t have to like it.”

I shrugged. “Good enough for me. Oh! Do you have any sugar I could borrow? There’s a reality warping monstrosity invading Sugarcube Corner and I’m trying to bake it a cake.”

“You ran out of sugar?” Rainbow paused and seemed to run my sentence back through in her head. “And there’s a what in the what? Wait, why didn’t you say so! That sounds awesome, I’ll be right over.”

She took off like a rocket, leaving behind her rainbow trail. Shaking my head I dove back into the mirror Ponyville, I still had to find some eggs and I knew just where to look.

Fluttershy’s cottage was one of the harder places to reach by mirror, something to do with her ongoing fear of her own reflection and the unsettling otherworldliness radiating from the Everfree. Still, I wasn’t technically heading for Fluttershy’s and she always left a mirror in the chicken coop to keep her hens entertained.

I burst out from the tiny mirror and immediately ran straight out into a pony, knocking us both to the floor and I bit my tongue.

“Owie!” I clutched my jaw. I fought to ignore the pain, it never lasted more than a few moments anyway. “Urgh, who did I– Muffins?”

“Where?” Muffins said, her ears perking up as rocked up onto her hooves. Elizabeak was perched on her head but neither the chicken or the pegasus seemed to notice the other. “Oh, hi Pinkie Pie. What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing in Fluttershy’s chicken coop?”

Muffin’s face fell. “Oh, um. Well, I’m living here for a few days until I can put some bits together. I put another hole in my roof...” She let out a long sigh.

“Aw, don’t worry about that,” I said, reaching under one of the chicken boxes and maked. “I happen to keep boxes of shingles hidden around Ponyville in case of a roofing emergency. Here you go.” I handed her the box and Muffin’s face lit up.

“Pinkie, this is great.” She swept me into a bone breaking hug and squeezed me like a rubber ducky. “Thank you so much!”

“Anything for a friend,” I said, beaming. “Although... as you’ve been here for a while, do you have any eggs to spare?”

Less than a minute later I hopped back into Sugarcube Corner’s kitchen with a happy smile and a box of eggs on my back. Only to have to duck as Twilight went flying over my head. Her magic flared and there was a sudden explosion of light next to me as she teleported.

“Urgh.” She gasped for breath, wiping the sweat from her brow as the broom handle leapt back into a guard in front of her face. “Pinkie, please tell me while you were out doing whatever it was you were doing that you got some help.”

“Oooh. No.” I shook my head. “But I did tell Rainbow Dash to bring us some sugar.”

“Seriously!” Twilight rounded on me. “Pinkie, please work with me here. We have to do something before this gets even worse.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to– Duck!”

We threw ourselves to the floor as a tentacle swung blindly at us. It was a shame there was a second right behind it. A sudden twitch in my tail gave me the half second’s warning I needed to roll out of the way but Twilight wasn’t so lucky and the unicorn was swept up by the beast.

“Help!” she screamed, her horn sparking as she struggled against the monstrous limb.

“Just a second!” I grabbed the box of eggs out of the air before it hit the ground.

“Da da da da!” There was an explosion of glass as Rainbow Dash entered via the window, piledriving the tentacle and the monster screamed in rage. Twilight finally got her magic together and teleported with a bang back to the twisting floor.

“There was a door,” she snapped at Rainbow, then shook herself. “Sorry, force of habit. Thank you.”

“Hey, I don’t leave anypony hanging,” Rainbow Dash shot back, puffing out her chest. She dodged around another tentacle. “But, whoa this is way cooler than I thought it would be. Pinkie what have you been feeding this thing?”

“Well I’ve been trying to feed it cake,” I snapped, tapping the egg-carton to the counter next to the mixing bowl.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Figures. Well I brought as many stakes as I could find so we should finish this thing off in ten seconds flat.”

Twilight’s magic flared as she deflected another strike off a shield. “Stakes are for vamponies, Rainbow Dash.”

“Dang. Well what do you use to defeat something with that many tentacles? Because I've see some of Spikes comics and I really don't like how losing to this thing would go.”

“You need to beat it with cake!” I leapt between them. “Did you bring the sugar?”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Yes, I did actually bring the sugar.” She reached into her saddlebag, rooted through an alarming number of sharp sticks, and plucked out a bag of sugar. I snatched it from her teeth and raced back over to my mixing bowl.


“Is she–”

“Yes she’s baking a cake,” Twilight sighed, burying her head in her hoof. “Now come on. We have to stop this monster now before it's too late.”

“Well what are we waiting for?” Rainbow smacked her hooves together. “Let's do this!”

I ignored them, even as the sounds of battle filled the air, pouring all the sugar into the bowl. “Okay Pinkie Pie, you can do this.” I pulled a whisk from my mane and began to mix like a mad mare. “Eggs!” I tore open the egg carton and cracked a dozen into the bowl. “Milk, flour and sugar all all in. What else? Umm... Ooo, here's some cinnamon—” In it went. “—that'll be good for flavour. And I don't know what this is but it smells nice. And this, and this.” Everything that looked edible within reach disappeared into the batter and I mixed it all in like a mare possed.

After less than a minute I paused, stepping back from from the bowl, frowning at the mixture. It looked ready.

“Argh!” Rainbow Dash went tumbling over my head. She hit the wall with all four hooves and kicked off, leaping back into the fight.

Well, there was no way that it would be my best cake but it was going to have to do. I tore the bowl free from the counter and raced to the far corner of the kitchen. Sat there gathering dust, most of it plaster dust from the shattered ceiling, was the Cake’s old oven. It was unplugged but I wasn't going to hold that against it.

“Okay, let's say forty minutes.” I grabbed a cake tin out of a shattered cupboard, slopped my mix into it and threw the entire mess into the oven. That was another scream from Rainbow Dash as she was again flung across the room by the oven beast and she landed hard next to me.

“Urgh, how many tentacles can one monster have!” she exclaimed, shaking the goop from her mane.

“Hey Dashie, pick a number!” I cut in.

She did a double take. “Huh? Umm, four?”

“Right!” I set the oven to gas mark four. Biting my lip and crossing my hoovesies I spun the timer forwards forty minutes. There was a cheery ding and I pulled out the cake, still steaming from the heat of the oven, juggling it between my forehooves.

Rainbow Dash goggled. “How did you–” She shook herself. “Right, it’s Pinkie Pie. Don't ask, seriously don't ask.”

“Rnachoig orabla ser’ni kanti!” Twilight roared and for an instant it was like Celestial had trebled the brightness of the sun. The oven monster bellowed in rage and pain and there was a meaty thud as Twilight was hurled from the melee.

Rainbow Dash leapt into the air, catching the ballistic unicorn before she could hit a wall. They hit the ground with a bang next to me.

“Urgh, it's no use.” Twilight struggled back onto her hooves. “It's too powerful.”

“And you keep missing out the silent ‘x’,” I said, shaking my head. “It doesn't matter though, I got the cake.”

Twilight’s ear twitched. “Pinkie Pie we do not need a cake right now,” she snapped. “Equestria is about to be devoured and I need a plan to save it before it's too late.”

“We have a plan.” I hefted the cake, still juggling it between my hooves. “I've been telling you it all along. We just have to give it this.”

A tentacle lunged towards us but, even with her horn down to mere sparks, Twilight batted it away with a sudden shield. “Pinkie. Feeding it cake makes no sense.”

I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t have to make sense, it just has to work. Trust me.”

Twilight spluttered, trying and failing to articulate some eminently sensible, but useless, objection.

“Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, putting a hoof her shoulder. “Don’t overthink it. It’s Pinkie Pie.”

“Please, I can’t get close enough on my own.” I pointed a hoof at the oven monster and the wall of tentacles between us and it’s single furious eye. Reality was falling apart around it, great rents into the beyond opening up along the walls and ceiling as it pushed it’s indescribable bulk further and further into Equestria. “I need your help.”

“Urgh!” Twilight hung her head. “Fine we’ll give it cake. And when this doesn’t work we’re going to get Celestia.”

I shrugged. “Good enough for me. Alright girls. Charge!”

“Finally!” Rainbow exclaimed, leaping into the air and racing back into the fray.

“Yay...” Twilight’s battle cry was far less enthusiastic, but she was still right on my heels as I galloped towards the oven monster.

There was a meaty squelch as Rainbow body-slammed a tentacle, though she just made it mad rather than slow it down. Still, as the tentacles homed in on the ducking and weaving pegasus it the thinned ranks on the ground. Twilight snatched up her broom handle as we past, the runes blazing into life as she flooded it with magic. She wielded the broken stick like a lance, charging ahead of me and battering the writhing limbs out of the way. The acrid scent of lightning and magic filled my nose as we covered the final few yards, short lived shields flashing into life around us, and the beast bellowed in fury as it saw us coming. It’s titantic, pony swallowing mouth opened wide to receive us and a wash of fetid air almost stopped me in my tracks.

“Now, Pinkie!” Twilight yelled, her horn blazing as she pressed a shield against the writhing tentacles.

“Right!” I reared up on my hind legs and drew back the cake. “Oh no, wait.” I dropped back down, staring at the cake in horror. “I forgot to frost it.”

“Pinkie!” both Rainbow Dash and Twilight yelled in unison.

“Just throw it,” Rainbow added, trying to wrestle with three tentacles at once and losing badly.

I sighed. Well, I didn’t dare use maked frosting. It would have to do.

Twilight let out a grunt as one of the tentacles smashed through her magic barrier, which popped like a soap bubble. A swarm of limbs descended on us. I dodged around the leader, rearing back and with a pass that would have made my hoofball coach proud, hurled the cake deep into the maw of the oven monster.

Mere inches from crushing us into paste the tentacles froze.

For a moment there was dead silence, then a deafeningly loud chewing echoed through the room. After a few disgusting moments it ended with a sudden swallow.

“Umm...” Rainbow began.

She was interrupted by a titanic burb from the beast that blew my ears back and almost threw Twilight from her hooves.

“Excuse you,” I said, smiling wide.

Moments later the beast began to retreat. The tentacles recoiled like extension cords, drawn back into the maw of the oven. Geometry began to make sense again, the rear wall shrinking back into scale with the rest of the kitchen as the monster’s power left the world. Rainbow Dash was set down gently next to us, though still covered from head to hoof with slime, as the last of the tentacles vanished. Finally the monster gave us a jaunty wink—or possibly blink, it was hard to tell—before shutting the oven behind it leaving us alone in the kitchen.

“What?” Twilight’s asked, stunned, staring in disbelief at the oven.

“Yeah, we did it!” Rainbow cheered. “High hoof, Pinks!” The crack of our hooves meeting echoed through the ruined kitchen.

“I knew it would work!” I cheered, beaming. My smile lasted just a moment though. “Oh shoot, I forgot to say a cool line.” Racing over to one of the debris piles I plucked my sunglasses out of the ruble, put them on and then dramatically pulled them back off.

“Umm, uh... Looks like this desert has been served.” Rainbow Dash just shot me a funny look. “Yeah, that wasn't too great. Ooo, how about ‘didn’t know you had a sweet tooth’?” Rainbow just rolled her eyes and I sagged. “Aww, I missed my chance.”

“What?” Twilight repeated, still staring at the oven.

“Eh, it was kind of cool I guess. Swing by some time and I’ll give you some pointers on real one-liners.” Rainbow Dash stretched and shook the slime from her wings. “Aww geeze look at my feathers, and I just had my shower for the week.”

“What just happened?” Twilight demanded, rounding on us. “How did that work? What did you do? Why did you do it?”

“I gave it the cake it wanted,” I said, shrugging. “You’d be amazed how hard it is to find a good cake in the space between spaces.”

“I but– You can’t– It doesn’t make any– ARGH!” Twilight slammed her hoof against her head. “You know what, I don’t even want to know any more.” She took hold her of broom handle again and began to walk away. “I’m going to go hit the thing in my basement with a stick until the world starts making sense again.”

“Oh, do you need any help with that?”


Twilight stalked through the back door and slammed it after her. It fell off its hinges a moment later.

“Don’t worry, Pinkie Pie,” Rainbow put a wing over my shoulder as my face fell. “I’m sure she’ll thank you when she has a chance to calm down. You know how Twilight gets when science breaks.”

“I suppose...” My ears shot up. “I know, I’ll bake her a cake!”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, casting her gaze over the devastated kitchen. “Yeah... May want to hold off on that for a little bit, Pinkie. Let her cool off on her own, you know?”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” I said, waving her off. “And besides, I really need to clean this place before Mr and Mrs Cake get home.”

“Eck.” Rainbow made a face. “Well, good luck with that Pinkie. You know, I’d love to stay and help but I did Pinkie Promise Fluttershy I’d go to the Butterfly Migration with her. See ya’.” She took off like a shot through one of the many broken windows.

I sighed as I surveyed the mess. It was going to take a lot of apology cupcakes to smooth it over with Mrs Cake. Still, that was for future Pinkie Pie to figure out. I hummed tunelessly to myself as I hopped through the mess, grabbing the cookbook out from under a pile of rubble.

“Right mister, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about giving ponies bad advice,” I told it, flipping through to a random page. “Now, let’s see what do I need for a ‘hooray, we didn’t get eaten by a monster from the beyond that was looking for a cake all along’ cake?”

The words wriggled on the page, sinuous squiggles that formed into a nicely formatted recipe.

“See? This all goes so much easier when we all just get along.” I beamed as I put the book on one of the few surviving sections of counter and began to gather ingredients.

“So we need... Eggs. Milk. Flour. The tears of a cockatrice.” I paused, frowning at the page and tapping a hoof against my chin. “The tears of a cockatrice? Oh I know who’ll have some of that, Fluttershy. I’ll go get it now.”
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#1 · 2
“If you can’t face the end of Equestria with a simile, I don’t know how you can face it.”

What about a metaphor? Though I don't think Elder Gods would be up for riddles.

Anyway, as my sides have returned to their Euclidean form I'm now able to congratulate you on a well done story.

I spotted a couple of typos here and there, but nothing too severe. Great job.
#2 · 1
That... was brilliant! You have ALL the kudos, and my admiration! Great story, beautifully written!
#3 ·
· · >>billymorph
Author, a nitpick: Starting your story by repeating your title makes it sound like "Pinkie Pie Saves Equestria And/Or Bakes A Cake" are the words writhing on the page at the start of your story, which I don't think is what you meant.

The text tried to escape off over the edge, but I stopped it with a hasty fold.

Diving into the kitchen I grabbed a pair of chefs’ hats from between the scene transition

“Pinkie, focus!” Twilight snapped, sticking her hoof in my mouth. I don’t know why ponies kept doing that, hooves don’t taste very nice and I’ve licked a lot of hooves.

Gotta admit, I am really enjoying this meta and this Pinkie.

"What do you use to defeat something with that many tentacles? Because I've see some of Spikes comics and I really don't like how losing to this thing would go."

“Aww geeze look at my feathers, and I just had my shower for the week.”

Laughed out loud.

This one is an easy TC simply because — this is no small thing — it shut my inner critic up long enough for me to read this the whole way through. Even the frequent and flagrant typoes didn't break me out of the story.

I strongly urge you to consider this not ready for final publication until you've had a chance to read through line by line and iron those typoes out. But I can't think of much I would otherwise change. This has some great depth — executing callback jokes on the eldritch abomination names, casually writing a Reality Warper Pinkie Pie as good as any I've read, and mixing the low-hanging jokes with the unexpected ones.

Constructive criticism … mmm. The last line seems a little flat, though I like the way the ending as a whole wraps things up. Twilight seems to be doing a fair bit of idiot-balling in her brushing off of Pinkie's powers, depending on when in the series this is set, but that's probably forgivable given the setting and character destruction you're doing to bring the eldritch abominations in. Really, just, great job. ^.^

Tier: Top Contender
Post by horizon , deleted
#5 ·
I liked this a lot. I do think it dragged a bit in the middle - it kind of felt to me like some of the 'fighting' grew a little stale, but overall, still quite enjoyable.

Honestly I wanted to explore more of Pinkie Pie's eldritch family, because that bit sounded quite amusing.
#6 · 3
Pinkie Pie Saves Equestria And/Or Bakes a Cake

Okay, first up! One of the longer ones. Let’s see how it holds up.

I like the meta-humor here. Pinkie Pie is an inherently difficult pony to do justice with when writing, but lines like “The text tried to escape off over the edge, but I stopped it with a hasty fold.” are wonderful.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure I agree with the slapstick comedy that’s so prevalent. Slapstick and physical comedy are notoriously difficult to portray in text, and this story falls into some annoying fanfiction shortcuts:

Twilight gigglesnorted.

“O~kay. Anyway, mind if I stay here for a while? The library is a little noisy right now.”

As other reviewers have noted, there’s a fair amount of repetition in the middle of the story, the 4,000 word ‘fight’ scene between Twilight, Pinkie and the abomination. For some jokes this stands out more than others. For example:

“Pinkie Pie please!” Twilight shot back, wincing as the tentacles slammed into her shield yet again. “I’m trying to save Equestria. This is not the time to think about snacks!”

“Is this really the time?” Twilight demanded, parrying a tentacle with the broom handle and eliciting a scream of pain and rage from the monster.

“Seriously!” Twilight rounded on me. “Pinkie, please work with me here. We have to do something before this gets even worse.”

“Yes she’s baking a cake,” Twilight sighed, burying her head in her hoof. “Now come on. We have to stop this monster now before it's too late.”

Twilight’s ear twitched. “Pinkie Pie we do not need a cake right now,” she snapped. “Equestria is about to be devoured and I need a plan to save it before it's too late.”

A tentacle lunged towards us but, even with her horn down to mere sparks, Twilight batted it away with a sudden shield. “Pinkie. Feeding it cake makes no sense.”

That’s… six variations on the “Pinkie, why are you doing X? We need to do Y!” If it looks familiar, it’s because the same joke was used (again, repeatedly) in this episode:

Swarm of the Century Clip

Six times! Did you think we wouldn’t get the point after the first five?

And when it’s over we get exactly what we knew was coming: the cake works, Twilight is amazed, Rainbow says “Oh, that’s just Pinkie Pie.” If that sounds familiar too, it’s because the show has told that same story several times (Swarm of the Century, Feeling Pinkie Keen, etc).

So, okay, that’s the criticism. What did I like?

Well, first, this story was very well written. The humor was the sort that I can appreciate (discovering the pear under Apple Bloom’s dresser, the early meta humor). And it’s certainly an original tale that hints at something much grander, which I always appreciate.

And, finally, comedy is hard to do, even under the best of circumstances. Attempting an 8,000 word comedy in the Writeoffs is basically accepting the ‘hard mode’ challenge, and I applaud that.
#7 ·
Last review on my slate! :P

Anyways, I think I'm going to have to parrot a bit of what CiG had to say about the repetition. Honestly, it made the middle a little frustrating to read, especially since we've already seen Twilight learn the whole "just trust Pinkie" lesson before, in multiple episodes and in a fair number of fics. I mean, even RD gets on board with Pinkie's train of thought pretty quickly; the only thing that's stopping the story from coming to it's climax 1000 words sooner is Twilight's stubbornness.

Honestly, though, that's pretty much the only issue I had, here. A lot of the jokes hit the spot for me, especially that whole 'silent x' deal. And I really loved the way you've described how Pinkie breaks the laws of physics. The way she thinks about it comes across really naturally while still preserving the inherent weirdness of, say, teleporting via icebox.

Nice work!
#8 · 1
This is the last story on my slate, it's currently three in the morning, and I am tired, so this is going to be short.

I really liked this story. I had a few minor nitpicks, but I think they've been covered in other reviews. This story easily earns the top spot on my prelim slate.

...or at least it would if you hadn't committed the unforgivable offence of calling Derpy "Muffins." Derpy is her canon name, dang it.
(No, I'm not actually knocking it down for this, though I might have if I had a closer second place. That "Muffins" thing really pisses me off.)
#9 ·
· · >>billymorph
I've been looking forward to this one. Let's see what we got.
"Be sensible or face the consequences!”

Story of my life, right here. It's only been a few sentences, and you already have me smiling like a goofball. This is quite promising.
"[...] and a very petulant bowl of petunias." Nice.
"Travelling by mirror is always weird." It took me just a moment to recognize it, but nice callback to Green Isn't Your Color.
Oh, the reference is more apparent as one continues reading. Oh, well. Still, nice callback.
I quite enjoy how the fact Pinkie Pie "makes" something has its own rules and logic to it, rather than just being something she does on a whim. That's a nice touch.
She will always be Derpy to me. Still, calling her "Muffins" let you make another joke, so it's forgivable.
When all is said and done, I very much enjoyed this. The jokes and gags were funny and almost always hit their mark. Like others have noted, the middle drags a bit and Twilight criticizing Pinkie gets redundant, but those are minor issues that are easily fixed. Many writers have and will say that writing from Pinkie Pie's perspective--and writing Pinkie Pie, in general--can be difficult, but you've done it well here.
I'm glad I got to read this. Thank you for writing.
#10 ·
Somehow all the stories I ranked earlier didn't make it to the finals, so I'm staying up way too late reviewing because all the finalists I've read are far too good to go on the bottom of my ranking.

Unfortunately this story didn't change that!

I kept thinking that the story was going to go too long and wear out the welcome on its one big joke, but somehow it always kept things just fresh enough. It probably would benefit from moving a little quicker, but it never got tedious either. The premise is a fairly simple one, Pinkie Pie breaking reality, but it has a lot of fun with that premise. I'd definitely recommend this story to friends if it ends up published.
#11 ·
A fun little romp of a story, this had me smiling from beginning to end. It was silly all the way through, though I do have to admit that it may have played a bit close to Swarm of the Century in that the whole story was Twilight ignoring Pinkie Pie’s actual plan for fixing things, while she did her own unsuccessful thing.

Still, I can’t really hold it against it too much; this was a fun story in its own right, and a number of the little jabs – the line about Spike’s comics, Pinkie Pie’s own nature as an eldritch monstrosity who doesn’t really understand Twilight (or anything else, really), the battle with the monster – all worked well.

Pinkie Pie was a lot of fun here, and Rainbow Dash worked well enough as herself. Twilight was okay as well, and some of the things she did – and the arguments she got into – were certainly amusing, though as noted before it did feel like a bit of a repeat of Swarm of the Century, albeit from a different perspective.

In the end, I liked this, but its similarities to Swarm of the Century (and a bit of the repetition, as well as the fact that the story had something of a foregone conclusion) kept me from really whole-heartedly embracing it.
#12 ·
Hey everyone, sorry for dropping out of the thread these last few days I've just got back from holiday and this was a very pleasent surprise. Thanks everyone for voting Pinkie Pie Save Equestria And/Or Bakes A Cake so highly and congratulations to Cold in Gardez and everyone else for their great entries. I feared that Completely Safe In The Reference Section would blow me out of the water, but I'm still chuffed to get the silver. I'm starting to pick up a nice collection of medels, which is rather flattering.

Anyway, this story was an interesting one for me to write. It was actually my aborted attempt at the last FiM Write-off 'Look, I can explain' but I ended up being busy that weeked so it was lucky that this prompt fitted so well into my original idea. All I needed was to ramp up the mythos a knotch and it slipped in no problem. The core idea, as many have identified, was to look at the absolutely insane world of Pinkie Pie as if it were totally sensible and that seemed to work marverlously. Its great to see that everyone enjoyed the humour and bought into the crazy nature of Pinkie Pie. I was quite worried that the story was too fast paced and choppy as it rarely paused to explain itself, but that seemed to be the oposite of the problem.

As many people noted this story has a lot of similarities to Swarm of the Century. It's hard to argue against that becuase it was the whole point. This was the same story told by Pinkie Pie in all but the content. The idea was to dive into the sheer dificulty Pinkie has communicating with ponies even when she knows the answer and her arguments with Twilight were supposed to be as much her failing to talk as Twilight failing to listen. I don't feel from the comments that this came across nearly as strongly as I hoped it would. In many ways I didn't have the time to write a more concise and focused story to communicate that, so I'll be going away for a bit to do a proper re-write I think. (After Alicornitus updates.)

Anyway, to adress some specific comments:

>>horizon Yeah, last line was a tricky thing. I had maybe 10 minutes to finish up by the end so it could have done with a final polish. For the last Write-off it would have been:

"Pinkie! Can you please, please, explain anything that just happened in the last five minutes."

I pursed my lips, struggling to put my thoughts into an order that she could understand. "Umm... Pinkie Sense?"

“I but– You can’t– It doesn’t make any– ARGH!” Twilight slammed her hoof against her head. “You know what, I don’t even want to know any more.” She took hold her of broom handle again and began to walk away. “I’m going to go hit the thing in my basement with a stick until the world starts making sense again.”

Alas, I'd completely forgotten about it when I came to writing the scene. XD

"Travelling by mirror is always weird." It took me just a moment to recognize it, but nice callback to Green Isn't Your Color

Thanks, this is also a refference to Through the Looking-glass and What Pinkie Found There which remains one of my favorite Pinkie Pie fics.

And thanks everyone else for leaving their thoughts.

See you all next Write-off