This was inspired by another fanfic – Letter 7 of the Letters To and From a Princess. In the brony chat alongside, someone went to get a pizza, I mentioned about how it’d be a craze if ponies and pizza were together, and BOOM. Pizza Brony was born.
(Creative name, I know)
The young mare known as Twilight Sparkle sighed deeply as she sank her head down into the fluffy pillow. It was morning in the skies of Ponyville, and Rainbow Dash had obviously bucked her napping trend and done a little sky cleaning on time – for once. After an all night studying binge in the library, Twilight appreciated it if there were a few clouds over her bedroom window to block out those infernal, pesky rays.
She alighted from her bed, quickly waking herself up. She could hear Spike still snoozing down the stairs in his basket. She contemplated waking him up when she went downstairs, but she shook the thought off. He needed the sleep, and he was probably dreaming something about Rarity anyway. Hopefully something decent, the filly thought grimly as she gently descended the remaining steps to the main floor, making all too many creaks. Spike snorted, a few puffs of smoke ominously crackling out of his facial orifices, and proceeded to bolt upright, burping out a jet of green, glowing fire. The fire burst in midair, the residual smoke particulates reforming into a scroll of the type sent by her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria.
“Morning Twi,” Spike said nonchalantly as he one-handedly caught the falling letter, unrolling it with two. He cleared his throat, as was his custom, before reading it aloud to the lavender unicorn.
“My Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle,
“The ponies of the Canterlot Culinary Institute have been studying the foods of the far reaches of Equestria, and they presented to me a recipe for the most delicious entrée I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. It is slightly messy, and I am certain that it would be tough for anypony that does not possess magic to eat it without requiring at least a few napkins.
“Instead of sending you one of these delicious meals for yourself, I have enclosed a recipe for this food, which is called ‘pizza’ … or so I’m told. I am confident that you and your friends will enjoy it.
“Your Mentor, Princess Celestia.”
Spike reached into the scroll and produced a small card, on which was written the complete instructions for making pizza. Spike scanned over it, shrugging slightly. “Unless you’re going to add gems to it, I’m not going to bother eating it,” the baby dragon warned as the card floated out of his hand under Twilight’s unicorn magic. “Looks plain silly if you ask me. Without gems, that is.”
“The princess wants me to try this.” Twilight screwed up her face, attempting to understand the terms of baking … or cooking, as this appeared to call for. Alas, this was not her area – it was Pinkie Pie’s. While pizza did not appear to be a cake – or any confectionary treat, for that matter – Pinkie Pie was the go-to filly for anything that involved the use of an oven, or any device usually found near an oven.
“Spike,” Twilight said, “We’re going to make this.”
Spike groaned. “Do I have to help?”
“Well, not if you don’t want to,” Twilight replied. Spike was asleep before the sentence was finished.
Rainbow and he could have a sleep-off, the unicorn thought, smiling, leaving her Number One Assistant to dreams of his beloved Rarity.
* * *
“That’ll be three bits, ma’am.”
Twilight magically rummaged around in her bags, bringing up three coins and passing them across the table into the apron pouch of the vendor. In the market of Ponyville, it had taken her two minutes to find a pony who sold tomatoes. Her next item – namely, cheese – was the one she was dreading. Cheese was not completely uncommon in Equestria, but she had seen very little of it in her time in Ponyville. Her optimistic side told her that she hadn’t actually looked for it, so she hung on the faint shred of hope that it was just at the next vendor, or the next …
“’scuse me, ma’am, but why are you just standing there?”
Twilight came to the realization that she’d been daydreaming of cheese (of all subjects!) and not moving her lazy flank somewhere else. Three ponies behind her looked rather aggravated. Smiling and laughing awkwardly, she began walking to the next vendor – Applejack’s.
“Mornin’ sugarcube. Just fer you, everythin’ here is on tha house. Compliments of tha Apple Fam’ly.”
“Thanks Applejack, but not right now. I’m looking for cheese.”
“Cheese? Why in tha hay would anypony need cheese?”
“It’s for a recipe Princess Celestia sent me. I’ll be going on over to Sugarcube Corner to cook it, since Pinkie has all the equipment and all. Would you mind trying it when it’s done?”
“Sure as shootin’, sugarcube. Ah’d be happy to come by an’ grab a few bites. Now, cheese. That ain’t a real common request ’round these parts, but I do happen t’know that Curd and Whey up yonder have some. Ya’ll might wanna try them.”
Nearly turning and sauntering off, Twilight’s stomach rumbled and growled like an aggravated Manticore.
“On second thought, Applejack, I think I will have a small apple fritter…”
* * *
Sugarcube Corner, as usual, was bursting with the energy of Pinkie Pie. Within the building, it was almost as if Pinkie’s hyperactivity were a raw, untamed force of nature, less understandable than something as consistent, stable, and mundane as gravity. Gravity would probably have been indignant to be compared to the pink party pony, as she was one of the only living beings ever to defy its stern grip on the universe at large.
Pinkie only slowed down slightly when Twilight walked in, pouches on her sides. They looked like they were full of food – but food that didn’t usually find itself near Sugarcube Corner.
“Ooh! Hey Twilight. Whadda you got? Whadda you got? Ooh! Is it a present for me? I knew this colt one time and he gave me some strange collapsible celery which he said was for detecting a gas and I was like *GAAAAAAASP* and gave him a huge hug and a buzzsaw zucchini but he looked kind of disturbed so I had to tell him is was okay and then …”
“Pinkie,” Twilight said in a calm tone. “I have a recipe from the Princess, and I’d like for you to help out. Would you mind?”
The hyperactive pony stared at the unicorn for a beat. “Okie dokie lokie!” she said, before launching into another verbal tirade on some random subject.
“Pinkie …” Twilight repeated indignantly, distracting herself by magically opening her pouches from her bags and transferring their contents to an open table. On the table lay the instructions, a small bunch of tomatoes, some cheeses, and a few herbs. She only noticed her party-obsessed friend beside her when she paused for a breath.
“OOOH, now THIS is different! Why would you want to put tomatoes in a cake? Or cheese, for that matter? I guess you could use it as frosting on the outside, but the taste would be all off!”
Twilight usually had vast reserves of patience, especially towards her friends. But, of all ponies, Pinkie Pie was the most likely one to run through it in record-setting time, and probably breaking a few laws of physics while she was at it.
“All right Pinkie, the first step is to make the dough,” Twilight said, through tightly clenched teeth.
“Oh, I have some right here!”
“Here!” Somehow, Pinkie pulled out a massive wad of dough and slammed it on the table. It appeared to have chocolate chips in it, as well as something green that was … moving?
“Um, Pinkie … why is the dough moving?”
“Because Gummy’s in it, silly filly!” came the reply. On cue, the alligator leaped out of the dough pile and landed bite-first in Pinkie Pie’s cotton-candy mane.
At this point, Twilight felt like giving up, but her mind’s eye insistently called to light pictures of her mentor Celestia, urging her to go through with it for the delicious meal surely to be presented at the end. “Pinkie, I don’t think it’s the right kind of dough.” She could tell by the candy bars that had been stuffed in it and having seen a few doughs in her time.
“Ooh! Are we going to MAKE dough? I’ve been making dough all day and I just LOOOOOOOOOOOVE to make dough! Well, I actually like eating it a looooooooooot more, sometimes after it’s baked, but making it is certainly awesomelicious as well!”
Twilight levitated the recipe in front of Pinkie Pie’s face. The pink pony intently studied and presumably memorized the thing in a span of about five seconds. Then, as sudden as she’d been still, she leaped into the air in a massive whirlwind, producing the required dough in another half a minute.
Twilight, however, was not so inclined to believe that it was the correct dough. Her recipe called for it to set for a while – but, at this point, one might as well go through with it. There simply is no calming Pinkie, she thought sadly. It’s a wonder that filly ever gets sleep. If she’d continued this train of thought, she’d end up sad about the Cakes.
As the unicorn was waxing slightly philosophical about her hyperactive friend, Pinkie was busy working on the pizza. She’d retrieved some “Italian dough”, sent from a bakery on the far side of Equestria, from the refrigerator of Mr. and Mrs. Cake, who had no real use for it anyway. (Last week, they tried to make a few cupcakes with it, and they tasted like bland cement. No amount of frosting could cure it.) It landed with a splat on the counter, perfectly circular, after Pinkie had tossed it through the air like a wheel.
“How did you …” Twilight began, but she couldn’t formulate the rest of the sentence. Pinkie had whisked her tomatoes off of the table and threw them into a food processor that had an ominous air about it – especially with the red swirling around inside it. If Rainbow Dash could hear it, she’d say that it was most definitely twenty percent louder than necessary.
But the inexplicable party pony was not yet finished. After turning off the food processor, she scooped up a ladle with her mouth and poured what remained of the tomatoes on top of the thick, rubbery dough, spreading it around carefully as she judged her work with one eye shut tightly. Twilight hoped that this was the right way to go about it – it was certainly one of the oddest-looking edible things that she’d ever seen. At least, she hoped something edible came of it in the end.
The cheeses, like the tomatoes, were scooped up off of the table sanctuary, whisked off to Celestia-knows-where by a veritable indoor pink tornado. The cheeses, probably to their surprise had they been sentient, got dumped unceremoniously onto the burgundy slop of puréed tomato. After this was done, Pinkie slid the whole thing onto a tray and bucked it à la Applejack into the oven across the room.
Twilight was stunned. Pinkie nearly collapsed onto the floor due to the effects of exhaustion, but prevented that rare feat from happening by snagging a cupcake off a nearby pan with a physically impossible stretch of her tongue to provide her sustenance. Twilight’s curiosity, insatiable as ever, piped up when nothing else would. “Where do you keep all of this energy and … food?”
“Simple, silly filly! I store it!”
“Where?” Twilight almost dreaded asking.
“In my appendix!”
Twilight blinked, her eyes twitching. She had to shake this off. This was in no way possible, but she didn’t let it on.
After quickly setting the timer, Pinkie glanced at a clock on the wall. “Oh! Sorry Twilight, I promised that I’d help Rainbow Dash prank Lyra today! Seeya!” In a final burst of semi-psychotic energy, Pinkie darted out the door, spinning Twilight around like a top. When Pinkie was gone, Twilight was little more than a dazed heap on the floor.
* * *
The stars had had enough jocularity dancing around in Twilight’s head, quietly twinkling out to dead silence. The unicorn’s head popped up, unused to a Sugarcube Corner being so devoid of sound. Looks like I’ll be finishing this pizza off, she thought as she staggered to regain her balance.
She had to have something to focus on, so she consulted the small card with the instructions on it. It had to bake for about fifteen minutes, and cool off for five. Looking at the timer above the oven, it was at ten minutes precisely. She could faintly recall Pinkie setting it.
Now the last of the stars had retired, and the purple unicorn was thinking more clearly. It was Celestia’s wish that she shared the completed meal amongst her friends, and so she counted them off. Rarity and Fluttershy usually had time to spare, unless they were off to the spa. Applejack would come by. Pinkie was somewhere with Rainbow Dash, no doubt modifying a park bench to prank the town’s resident strange sitter …
* * *
The timer hit zero. Pinkie had somehow managed to replace the timer’s beeping mechanism with the sounds of a demented vuvuzela, startling Twilight. Magically, she depressed the stop button and opened the oven to a delicious and terrifically alien smell. She levitated the bubbling, cheesy mass away from the heat of the oven and set it lightly upon the counter. Only now could she really appreciate how strange this food really was. It bubbled slightly in the middle, the tomato paste underneath visible under the surface of the molten cheese. It seemed to have a life of its own, giving off a nearly visible heat as it emanated delicious smells. Now, to get everypony here to eat …
Twilight needn’t have worried. At that precise moment, Lyra came crashing through the door, having been vaulted through the air. Bon-Bon rushed through to the dazed mare, who’d landed, quite irritated, on a mattress, placed there expressly for the purpose of providing the mint unicorn a soft landing after being hurdled through the air over half of Ponyville. Just outside the door and just inside earshot were Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, laughing their flanks off as Lyra’s eyes rolled in their sockets.
“Oh hey there Twilight. Pinkie told me that she’d left you here to make something delicious. Whatcha got?” Rainbow asked, still chucking and doing a small loop-the-loop in the building. “A full day of Wonderbolt tryout workouts sure works up a pony’s appetite.”
“Well, Pinkie did most of the work,” Twilight responded, blushing slightly. “I just got the ingredients, really.” Her voice trailed off as Lyra had to be restrained by Bon-Bon and two particularly burly stallions to keep her from ripping Rainbow Dash’s vibrant mane off of her head. The fact that the cyan Pegasus was oblivious to Lyra’s attempts to scalp her further accentuated the spectacle of lunacy.
“It’s time to chow down!” Pinkie exclaimed, rushing over to the flimsy pizza. She gave it a quizzical stare before a light bulb went off above her head. Literally. “There’s something terribly wrong with this,” she mused aloud. Fumbling through a nearby pantry that Twilight positively swore was on the other side of the room a minute ago, she produced a large box of candy corn, sprinkling them on top.
“An’ jus’ what in the hay is goin’ on in these parts?” came a voice from outside. Applejack rushed in, scanning around. Lyra had been subdued, somehow, and the earth pony had come in only at the sign of trouble. The food was secondary, though she did admit to occasional enjoyment of exotic flavors. Apples got old after a while, no matter how you sliced them.
“Pizza … I think. Whatever that is. It includes candy corn now, apparently,” Rainbow replied. “Hold on one sec. Lemme fetch Fluttershy and Rarity. I swear, though, if they’re at that spa place, I’m not gonna bother.” Without another word, she took off, a rainbow streak above the streets.
* * *
Twilight had sliced the pizza into six even slices with a knife. She had to admit, it looked pretty tasty – with or without the candy corn. She’d retrieved six plates and began the process of transfer over.
“Why, darling, those plates look marvelous!” exclaimed Rarity immediately upon her arrival. “However, those garish triangular … things just simply clash. Too many similar colors. Did Rainbow Dash put them on?”
Rainbow’s reply to Rarity’s comment came in the form of a long, hard stare at Pinkie, indicating the pink pony as the culprit. Pinkie was blissfully oblivious.
“I see,” said a suddenly concerned Rarity. If anypony’s hair were worse off than Rainbow Dash’s, it was Pinkie Pie. The connection between the two’s facets of fashion sense (or lack of it) was enough to severely startle the white mare, forcing her to sit down next to Fluttershy, shaking slightly, left eye twitching nearly uncontrollably.
“Here they are, girls!” Twilight announced. Dropping from the air came the slices, elegant yet totally foreign to the six friends. The sparkling glow surrounding them lifted. Pinkie was the first to dare move following the arrival of the magically placed plates, delicately balancing her slice on her hooves in a manner unbecoming of her trademark hyperactivity.
Nodding in unison, they began to eat.
* * *
“Dear Princess Celestia,
“I am happy to inform you that Pinkie Pie and I have successfully created the ‘pizza’ meal. All seemed to be impressed on how delicious it tasted, even after Pinkie decided, for some bizarre reason, to put candy corn on it. Personally, I preferred the bites I had without superfluous confections.
“Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle.
“P.S. Applejack is of the opinion that pizza would be better served with apple sauce instead of tomato paste. If this concoction is any good, I shall notify you and the Culinary Institute immediately.”
Very special thanks to Stun Tossing for the image of Pinkie with her beloved pizza slice. It is, for all intents and purposes, the image on which the story was based.
Questions? Comments? Oatmeal?
E-mail: [email protected]
YouTube account: PizzaBrony