[FLUTTERRAPE] A Sweet Heart


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: March 31st, 2014

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                                            Update 30/04/2021 -- When this was first written, it was intended to be a multipart story - hence why up until now it's had "Part 1" in the title - but I never figured out how to proceed the story in a way I was happy with. As such, I'm now just closing it off and letting it be a standalone story.


                                            ---


                                            >"Anonymous! Where are you?!"

                                            >You are in the kitchen.

                                            >Inside a cupboard.

                                            >The contents of which are strewn on the floor outside so you could make room for yourself.

                                            >Hoofsteps sound outside.

                                            >They come to a stop outside the cupboard.

                                            >A disinterested and extremely sarcastic voice breaks the silence.

                                            >"Gee. I wonder who put all these sacks of flour and sugar here."

                                            >"Get the hell out of there, Anon. I need to talk to you."

                                            >Grunt and kick out, the door flying open.

                                            >Climb out and dust yourself off, then glare down at the pony before you.

                                            >She glares back with a look that only a young, opinionated and extremely miffed mare could give.

                                            >"Anon."

                                            "Bon Bon."

                                            >"What the hell were you doing in there?"

                                            >Sniff and scratch your face.

                                            "Uhh, checking for rats."

                                            >At "rats", she twitches.

                                            >"Are you implying that my kitchen is dirty?"

                                            >Oh god here we go.

                                            >Bon Bon runs a hoof along a pristine surface.

                                            >"Because I assure you, it is not."

                                            >Nod, a weary look in your eyes.

                                            "Yes, Bon Bon, I know."

                                            >"It's cleaner than those kitchens down the street, that's for sure."

                                            >She'll never let it go.

                                            >Bon Bon is a confectioner.

                                            >She crafts sweets, cakes and other delightful treats with exceptional skill.

                                            >A pair of experienced hooves carefully put together each sugary creation, and you envy everything she concocts.

                                            >Her mind is, for the lack of a better word, brilliant.

                                            >Her vision, unfathomable.

                                            >Her determination, indomitable.

                                            >"Anonymous. Pay attention to me."

                                            >She punches you in the leg, causing you to wince.

                                            >But there's no denying that she's a massive bitch at the best of times.

                                            >"Now, answer my question. Why were you in my cupboard?"

                                            >Sigh and roll your eyes.

                                            "I was taking a break. You've been working me for about ten hours straight."

                                            >Her eyes narrow.

                                            >Though given her already furious look, it doesn't make much of a difference.

                                            >"Oh. Ten hours. You poor thing."

                                            >Seems like everything she says is said with a sarcastic tone of voice.

                                            >"You know how long my father used to work me when I was under his guidance?"

                                            >She doesn't wait for a reply.

                                            >"Thirty hours a day."

                                            "That doesn't--"

                                            >"THIRTY HOURS, ANONYMOUS."

                                            >She leans closer to you.

                                            >"I bet you can't even -count- to thirty."

                                            "Tell me again why I work for you?"

                                            >"Because I pay you a lot of bits and I'm not having those hands go anywhere near Sugarcube Corner."

                                            >Bon Bon's hatred of the Cakes isn't well known. She acts with a sense of restraint beyond the kitchen.

                                            >But since you're around her, and only her, all day; you know her true thoughts and feelings on just about everything.


                                            >"Anonymous! We're out of sugar! I bet it's those fucking Cakes again!"

                                            >"Anonymous, have you seen my whisk? If those Cakes have stolen it I swear to god--"

                                            >"Anonymous, that customer is giving me strange looks. I bet she's a shill for the Cake family. Dispose of her."


                                            >Most of what she says you manage to tune out, but she has a tongue like razor wire, and she always manages to somehow coerce you into listening to her barrage of often nonsensical gibberish.

                                            >"Anonymous! You aren't listening to me, again!"

                                            >She punches you in the same spot as before.

                                            >That'll bruise for sure.

                                            >"I will not have you slacking off in my kitchen. Now get me some ingredients ready."

                                            >Rub your shin.

                                            "What ingredients?"

                                            >"I don't know, anything! My genius doesn't depend on specifics, Anonymous."

                                            >Groan and get her flour, sugar, eggs and celery.

                                            >See what she can make of that.

                                            >Probably nothi--


                                            >--Nope, she made something incredible.

                                            >Bon Bon stares at her new creation proudly.

                                            >"Anonymous, tell me I'm a genius."

                                            "You're a genius."

                                            >"Oh, Anon, you flatter me~!"

                                            >Sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

                                            "Is there anything else, Bon Bon? We've been working since midnight last night. I don't think I've gone home in two days..."

                                            >"You can sleep in the kitchen again. I'll get you a blanket."

                                            "Can't I just, like, go home?"

                                            >"Out of the question. The Cakes might snag you into their monopoly on sweets."

                                            "The hell did the Cakes ever do to you?"

                                            >Truthfully, you have no idea. Seems like a good enough time to ask her since she's always making them out to be the 3rd Sugary Reich.

                                            >Bon Bon develops a distant look, as though memories she had long since locked away have resurfaced.

                                            >With a tearful look, she sniffs.

                                            >"It... It's a long story, you... don't want to know."

                                            >Wait 4 seconds then ask her again.

                                            >...

                                            "What happened?"

                                            >"Ooooh Anon! It was terrible!"

                                            >God she's a drama queen.

                                            >"So there I was, at the Ponyville bake-off. It was a tense battle between good and evil, light and dark, genius and plebian! I was making a... lovely... so it..."

                                            >You've tuned her out again.

                                            >Just stare at her and nod occasionally, Anon.

                                            >You'll tune back in when the good part happens.

                                            >Did you even lock the door to your house before you came here?

                                            >"...Then the Cakes arrived!..."

                                            >You hope no one broke in.

                                            >Then again, it can't really be counted as 'breaking in' if the thing being broken into isn't locked.

                                            >So what can you call it, 'free samples'?

                                            >What time is it?

                                            >"...Destroyed my greatest creation..."

                                            >Damn, the clock on the wall is broken. No wonder you're losing the concept of time.

                                            >Is she still ranting?

                                            >"...All I ever wanted as a child was to be a baker..."

                                            >Of course she is.

                                            >Damn, you wish you were at home eating something other than sugar.

                                            >Colgate will -not- get off your ass about that.

                                            >You like her. Colgate, that is.

                                            >She's always looking out for your teeth.

                                            >Lovely mare.

                                            >Is she single?

                                            >"...Rat poison in the finalist entries!..."

                                            >Probably not. Most of the nice mares around here are taken.

                                            >Then again, the -sane- mares are.

                                            >An alarming about of ponies around here are a bit messed up in the head.

                                            >"...Sliced his jugular on the icing sugar..."

                                            >Let's see, we've got Screw Loose, that's obvious.

                                            >Twilight Sparkle is completely mad when she misses deadlines.

                                            >Cheerilee has a disturbing fetish for oversized objects like bananas and cucumbers.

                                            >Bon Bon is insane, but the good kind of insane that gives you huge paychecks and sends you birthday cards that say "You're mine forever".

                                            >Damn she's strange.

                                            >"...Policeponies wouldn't listen so they had to die..."

                                            >Then there's Pinkie--

                                            >Oh fucking Christ.

                                            >Pinkie Pie.

                                            >"So I ended up getting second place!"

                                            "What? Those bastards."

                                            >Bon Bon sniffs and nods, a bit of sadness dripping from her nose.

                                            >"Can I have a hug?"

                                            >Kneel down and hug your boss.

                                            >You aren't really paying attention though.

                                            >Your mind is on other things.

                                            >Like Pinkie Pie.

                                            >Bon Bon is Colgate when compared to Pinkie Pie.

                                            >Hyperactive, invasive, overly annoying, far too eager about everything and has a fixation with throwing parties aimed at 5-year olds for adults.

                                            >Pat Bon Bon while she coos in your ear.

                                            >"You're so warm, Anonymous~"

                                            >When she learnt of your existence in Ponyville, your life became hell.

                                            >She simply would -not- leave you alone.

                                            >You began to wonder if this was literally the underworld, and that you had perhaps committed vile acts against a vengeful and petty god.

                                            >It matters not how you came to be here, all that matters is that Pinkie Pie exists within the same solar system as you.

                                            >"Anonymous."

                                            "Hmm?"

                                            >"Stop hugging me."

                                            "Oh, uhh, sorry."

                                            >Let go of Bon Bon, who scrunches her face up at you and gives a disapproving look.

                                            >That is, her normal look.

                                            >"I wasn't aware you were so deprived for attention that you would hug me for so long."

                                            "Didn't you ask -me- for the hug?"

                                            >"You're mad. Stop talking crazy. I need your brain intact for sweets. What time is it?"

                                            >Look at the clock.

                                            >It's got 4 hands. All of which are broken.

                                            "I have no idea. Seventeen past Shiggler."

                                            >Bon Bon punches your shin-bruise.

                                            "FFFffff--"

                                            >"It is obviously lunch time. We must create lunch."

                                            "What, seriously? How did you know?"

                                            >"Because there are customers at the front asking for lunch. They have been doing so for the last few minutes."

                                            >Her faces achieves a state of meta-scrunch.

                                            >"But you wouldn't let me go because your daddy wouldn't hug you when you were a filly so you have to ask for hugs."

                                            "You're projecting pretty hard there, Bon--"

                                            >"Shut-up-stop-talking-go-serve-the-customers."

                                            >Grumble and walk past her to the front desk, trying your best to seem as happy as possible.

                                            >Smile at the first customer.

                                            "Hello, welcome to Bon Bon's home of the bon-bon can I take your order?"

                                            >"Can I have a sandwich?"

                                            "Do you want bon-bons with that?"

                                            >"Uhh, no; just a sandwich, please."

                                            >You shrug and whip up a quick sandwich for the pony.

                                            >She sniffs it and sighs happily.

                                            >"Thanks!"

                                            >A few bits land on the counter, and you deposit them in the till.

                                            "Next!"


                                            >The last customer leaves, and you sway slightly.

                                            >Two days without sleep. Two days without sleep.

                                            >Two days without--

                                            >"Anon!"

                                            >Turn around and stare down at the tiny angry pouting pony.

                                            >"You're slacking!"

                                            >God she looks cute from this angle.

                                            >Her face is so chubby and fluffy.

                                            >You just wanna....

                                            >Your eyes shut and you collapse forwards onto the pony.

                                            >Her shocked scream does nothing to wake you up.

                                            >Sleep good....


                                            >Hours later, your eyes crack open.

                                            >To your surprise, you're not lying on the floor as you normally would.

                                            >Instead, you appear to be lying in a bed.

                                            >The duvet covers have sweet patterns on them.

                                            >Are you...

                                            "Uh oh."

                                            >You're in Bon Bon's bed.

                                            >If she finds you, you're dead.

                                            >Whip off the covers and leap out.

                                            >Take a moment to stretch and crack your joints.

                                            >No idea how long you've been out, but it feels great to have finally gotten some rest.

                                            >Hear hoofsteps on the stairs.

                                            >Shit shit shit.

                                            >Looking around, you've got nowhere to go.

                                            >Ah well. You had a good run.

                                            >Hopefully she won't chase you around with a rolling pin this time.

                                            >Bon Bon steps into her room and glares at you.

                                            >"Oh. You're awake."

                                            "...Is that a problem?"

                                            >"Wh-what? No! Shut up, no it's not a problem. I hate watching you sleeping. You're lazy when you do it."

                                            >What.

                                            >"Get downstairs and work now! You've been asleep for a full day!"

                                            "Holy shit, what?"

                                            >"It's nearly breakfast time! There'll be ponies here for food in a minute! Get downstairs!"

                                            >She takes off towards the kitchens below.

                                            >You take a second to process all that.

                                            >A thought crosses your mind.

                                            >Looking back at the bed, you see a large crater from where your body was.

                                            >And just next to it... A smaller pony-shaped one.

                                            >Blink a few times.

                                            >Well, it -was- her bed.

                                            >Shake your head and follow Bon Bon downstairs.

                                            >Enter the kitchens and pull on your apron.

                                            >Look at the time.

                                            >The clock is still fucked.

                                            >Mutter to yourself while you check the day's menu.

                                            "God, it's been three days since I've not been home..."

                                            >Bon Bon appears out of nowhere, her mouth occupied by a bag of flour.

                                            >She dumps it on the counter and gives you an angry look.

                                            >"Well maybe you should move in here instead of complaining all the time!"

                                            "...But you only have one bed."

                                            >"I know that, stupid! Stop being such an idiot!"

                                            >She storms out to check the till.

                                            >Something strange is going on here...

                                            >...

                                            "Hey, Bon Bon, are you in love with me?-- Oh fuckFUCKFUCK--"

                                            >Instantly regret your choice of words as an extremely peeved and pouty pony comes hurtling back into the kitchen like a bat out of hell, screaming at you and waving around a rolling pin.


                                            >"Anon."

                                            "What."

                                            >"I need... I need you."

                                            "What?"

                                            >"I need you to do something for me, moron. God. It's just a delivery."

                                            >Ugh.

                                            >Turn to her.

                                            "Yes?"

                                            >She shoves a bag into your hands.

                                            >"Deliver... Deliver this to 'them'."

                                            "The Cakes?"

                                            >"Don't say that name to me. It makes me sick..."

                                            "...What's in the bag?"

                                            >"None of your business. But you need to take it to them."

                                            "Why can't you do it?"

                                            >Her natural glare intensifies.

                                            "Alright, shit, calm down."

                                            >Walk towards the door.

                                            >"Wait!"

                                            >Turn around.

                                            >"B-be careful."

                                            "I'm going across the street, Bon Bon."

                                            >"I KNOW THAT, YOU MORON. JUST GO."

                                            >She screams in frustration and stomps back to her kitchen.

                                            >Sigh and walk out the front door and into the sun.

                                            >Take a second to appreciate the outside air.

                                            >It's the first time you've been outside in 3 days.

                                            >If you weren't paid so well by Bon Bon you'd have left that job ages ago.

                                            >But no one in Ponyville pays even close to the amount your boss pays you. So you'll take whatever she can throw at you.

                                            >Look back over your shoulder.

                                            >A cream-coloured face quickly disappears from one of the windows of the shop.

                                            >She's so weird.

                                            >Proceed to Sugarcube Corner.

                                            >It's a much nicer place than Bon Bon's shop.

                                            >Of course, you'd never say that out loud within the same country as Bon Bon, but the fact still stands.

                                            >Most of the business in Ponyville regarding food comes here.

                                            >Though a few clients know of Bon Bon's talents, so she gets quite a few orders as well.

                                            >But the Cakes offer service with a smile.

                                            >The best Bon Bon can provide is a death threat and a weird extra-dimensional being on the till.

                                            >Though you have one large advantage over the Cakes.

                                            >And that is--

                                            >You enter the shop.

                                            >--None of Her.

                                            >"OHMYGOSH, ANON!"

                                            >A pink bullet is launched over the counter at escape velocity.

                                            >It slams into your chest, hugging you.

                                            >Thankfully the bag wasn't between you both.

                                            >Pinkie Pie rubs her face in your chest.

                                            >"Hiiii!"

                                            "Hi."

                                            >"Whatcha doooin'?"

                                            "Delivering this to Mrs Cake. She in?"

                                            >"Yes indeedy! She's just in the kitchens!"

                                            >Nod and start to walk there.

                                            >"Waitwaitwait!"

                                            >Pinkie Pie puts herself in your path.

                                            >"How are you? What have you been doing? You haven't been home in three days!"

                                            "Fine. Working-- wait, what was that last one?"

                                            >"I said you look tired!"

                                            "Ugh, yeah. Bon Bon's working me hard."

                                            >"She's a meany pants. You should work with us! There's room for one more on the team!"

                                            >Pinkie leans closer.

                                            >"And my bed can fit two~"

                                            >She's as subtle as dynamite.

                                            >Walk past her and behind the counter.

                                            >The pony bounces after you, humming to herself and giggling.

                                            "Misiz Cake? Mister Cake? You here?"

                                            >A small blue pony appears from below a counter.

                                            >She smiles warmly at you.

                                            >"Oooh, hello, deary! I haven't seen you in days! Are you alright?"

                                            >Mrs Cake is literally the polar opposite of Bon Bon.

                                            >She's the kind of pony that would shelter a homeless guy for a week just to see him get back on his feet.

                                            >You know this because that's what she did for you.

                                            >Few ponies would approach you at the start.

                                            >Mrs Cake was one of them.

                                            >The only reason you're not working for her is because of the sheer amount of money Bon Bon is paying you.

                                            >You return her smile and offer her the bag.

                                            "A gift from Bon Bon. Be careful."

                                            >Her smile falters.

                                            >"O-oh..."

                                            "I know, believe me I know. If you don't open it I won't blame you. Actually, want me to open it?"

                                            >"If it's not too much trouble, I don't want to be a fuss--"

                                            >You've already opened it.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >Pull out the gift.

                                            "Rolling pin. That's new."

                                            >Check it for problems.

                                            >Sniff it.

                                            >Seems fine.

                                            >Doesn't seem to be laced with poison.

                                            "Well, I guess this is it. Be careful with it."

                                            >Mrs Cake takes it from you and puts it in a drawer, then winks at you.

                                            >"I'll just leave it there for now~"

                                            >Chuckle with her.

                                            >"So can I get you anything? A drink?"

                                            "Nah, I'll have to head on back otherwise she'll--"

                                            >Freeze.

                                            >Mrs Cake goes red and covers her mouth with a hoof.

                                            "Uhh."

                                            >Look down.

                                            >Pinkie is licking your hand, a vacant look on her face.

                                            >Pull it away and glare at her.

                                            >"O-oh, sorry, Anonny. I sorta got lost in a daydream."

                                            >She gives you a seductive look.

                                            >"I was licking the most amazing lollipop~"

                                            "Okay! I'll be going then. Always a pleasure, Mrs Cake."

                                            >Kneel down and hug her.

                                            >She returns it and sighs.

                                            >"You can call me Cupcake, Anon, really."

                                            "Doesn't feel right, sorry. I'll see you when I see you."

                                            >Turn to leave.

                                            >Step over the still daydreaming and drooling Pinkie on the way out.

                                            >You wish Bon Bon would act like Mrs Cake.

                                            >Just a bit of kindness would suffice.

                                            >She doesn't even need to stop glaring at you all the time.

                                            >Those hopes are shattered once you push open the door to her shop.

                                            >"Where have you been?!"

                                            "Across the street."

                                            >"I know that, but what took you so long?"

                                            >...

                                            >"Idiot!"

                                            >There it is.

                                            "I delievered your package."

                                            >Bon Bon develops and evil grin.

                                            >"Good... Excellent! She'll rue the day she ever messed with me!"

                                            "But how the hell is a rolling pin going to stop her?"

                                            >"...What?"

                                            >Bon Bon's pupils shrink.

                                            >She runs into the kitchen.

                                            >Then comes out, staring straight ahead.

                                            "You put the wrong thing in the bag, didn't you."

                                            >She nods slowly.

                                            "What was it -supposed- to be?"

                                            >"Rats."

                                            "What."

                                            >"Twenty very hungry rats."

                                            >...

                                            "They're all over the kitchen aren't they."

                                            >Another nod.

                                            "You're going to make me catch them all while you sit on my shoulders too scared to move, aren't you?"

                                            >A final nod.

                                            >Sigh and pick up a broom and the pony on the way into the kitchen, shutting the door behind you.


                                            >Sit on the kitchen table, stroking Bon Bon's mane.

                                            >She's trembling.

                                            >Her quest for "ultimate vengeance" caused her to forget that she's terrified of rats.

                                            >You don't even care how she suspended her fear for so long.

                                            >At least they're all dead or escaped out the door now.

                                            "Hey... Maybe one of them made it to Sugarcube Corner."

                                            >"Y-you think so?"

                                            "Sure, they're uhh, attracted to the smell of bad food."

                                            >Bon Bon giggles.

                                            >Wait, what?

                                            >Stare in shock at her.

                                            >An almost indiscernible smile is on her face.

                                            >The moment she sees you looking at her, it's gone and replaced with her normal scowl.

                                            >"Stop looking at me like that. It's like you love me or something."

                                            "You're a pretty ridiculous pony, you know that?"

                                            >Sigh and pat her on the back before picking her up and setting her on the floor.

                                            "It's lock-up time, and I'm going home."

                                            >"What?"

                                            "Yeah, I really need to check on my house, Bon Bon; if I'm lucky I might still have a fridge."

                                            >"But what about the rats?"

                                            "What about them?"

                                            >"What if they come back?"

                                            "Why would they come back?"

                                            >"Because you won't be here to fend them off!"

                                            "I don't--"

                                            >"You can't go home; you have to stay here with me."

                                            >Grunt and head for the door.

                                            >"Hey! I gave you an order, idiot!"

                                            "Bite me, boss."

                                            >"If you walk through that door, you're fired!"

                                            "No I'm not. You need me to protect you from the rats."

                                            >She whimpers.

                                            >Grin at her and nudge open the door.

                                            "See you tomorrow, Bon Bon. Don't let the rats get you~"

                                            >As you leave, the door swings shut.

                                            >By the time you're out the door, you don't hear Bon Bon whisper after you.

                                            >"Please don't leave me..."


                                            >Much to your surprise; the fridge, as well as everything else in your house; is still in your house.

                                            >Talk about lucky.

                                            >Felt good to sleep in your own bed again.

                                            >You stretch out and yawn as the morning sun pokes at you through cracks in the curtains.

                                            >Lie there for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere of your room.

                                            >Suppose you should get to the shop before Bon Bon has a nervous breakdown.

                                            >Climb out of bed and perform your morning routine; images of Bon Bon screaming as she stands on the kitchen table while a sea of rats covers the floor causing you to chuckle as you brush your teeth.

                                            >As you walk downstairs, you hear a knock on the door.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >You never get visitors.

                                            >...Unless it's Bon Bon.

                                            >Oh Christ what has she done this time.

                                            >Open the door.

                                            "Bon Bon I swear to--"

                                            >"HIYA NONNY!"

                                            >...Well that's just far worse.

                                            >Pinkie Pie beams at you.

                                            "Oh. Uhh, hi."

                                            >"Whatcha dooooin'?"

                                            "You ask me this every time. And what does it -look- like I'm doing?"

                                            >"Being a grumpy pants! Hey, do you like your house? Good thing no one tried to break in and steal your things, huh?"

                                            >Stare at her.

                                            >"Soooo I was wondering if you'd like to maybe come and work at Sugarcube Corner! That way you and the Cakes can spend more time with each other and you can move in with me so that way you're closer to work andalsomaybewecanbang!"

                                            >Narrow your eyes at her.

                                            >She doesn't seem to be phased by your blatant distaste of her.

                                            >"So, how about it, huuuh?"

                                            "No."

                                            >"Why not?"

                                            "I like my current house and my current job."

                                            >"But Bon Bon's so mean!"

                                            "Yeah, but she's better than you."

                                            >Slam the door in Pinkie's face and go to make breakfast.

                                            >From an outsider perspective, it might seem cruel how you treat Pinkie.

                                            >But she's been on your ass, sometimes literally, every day for the last 3 years.

                                            >The mare can't take a hint.

                                            >Her complete disregard for personal space means that more than once she's "accidentally walked in" on you having a shower or using the toilet.

                                            >Then she'll just sort of stand there, smiling, waiting for you to finish so that she can ask you whatever she wanted to ask.

                                            >You can't fathom what goes on in her head, nor do you really want to.

                                            >The pony just seems to be totally oblivious to the most basic social cues.

                                            >But she seems intent on getting you in the sack, so you've had to put up with her idiocy for 3 long years.

                                            >You've only been working with Bon Bon for 1 of those.

                                            >Walk to the fridge to get out some milk.

                                            >Pull open the door.

                                            >"I'm just saying, it'll be cool! Like it is in here!"

                                            "GET OUT OF MY FRIDGE."

                                            >Pinkie squirms slightly then gives you a nervous laugh.

                                            >"I, uhh, can't. Just a second."

                                            >She wriggles and writhes.

                                            >The pony starts sweating.

                                            >"O-oh, I'm in a pretty big doozie here, haha!"

                                            >Pinkie thrashes around trying to get unstuck

                                            >Roll your eyes and pull out the milk, then shut the fridge.

                                            >"Hey, Anon? You still out there? Just give it a thought!"

                                            >Ignore her, and the violently shaking fridge, as you eat your breakfast.

                                            >Once you finish up, you sigh before you head out the front door.

                                            "Pinkie."

                                            >A small voice from the kitchen fridge answers you.

                                            >"Yeah?"

                                            "When you get out, lock up for me."

                                            >"Okie dokie lokie!"

                                            >Walk out and shut the door, then head for work in a foul mood.

                                            >You aren't putting up with Bon Bon's shit today.


                                            >As you reach the store, you take a deep breath before pulling out your spare key.

                                            >Unlock the door and push it open.

                                            >No sooner as you take a step inside, a large soft thing attaches itself to your leg.

                                            >Look down at it.

                                            >The creature is trembling and whimpering.

                                            "Bon Bon."

                                            >"Y-yes?"

                                            "Are you alright?"

                                            >"I-I'm fine."

                                            "Would you like a hug--"

                                            >You don't even get to reply before the pony has relocated herself from your leg to your neck, her hooves wrapped tightly around you and refusing to let go.

                                            >Roll your eyes and hold her against your chest with your arms.

                                            >She speaks whilst you both hug.

                                            >"Rats."

                                            "What, they came back?"

                                            >"No. But they might. Spent all night checking for them."

                                            "You haven't slept?"

                                            >"No no no."

                                            "Well uhh, I'm here now, I guess. So the rats can't get you."

                                            >Her grip around your neck tightens.

                                            >"Do you hate me?"

                                            >...

                                            "No?"

                                            >"You hesitated. You do, don't you?"

                                            "What? I said no, Bon Bon. I don't hate you."

                                            >"You only like me because I pay you to s-stay. If I didn't you'd go to the Cakes..."

                                            "True. But none of that really matters."

                                            >"Yes it does."

                                            "No it doesn't. Am I working for the cakes?"

                                            >"N-no..."

                                            "No. I'm here. With you. And I'm hugging you. Why would I hug you if I hated you?"

                                            >She doesn't reply.

                                            >The mare just buries her face in your neck.

                                            >Her hot breath feels strange on your skin.

                                            "So should we turn the ovens on?"

                                            >"Five more minutes."

                                            >She sighs.

                                            >"Idiot..."

                                            "Bitch."

                                            >You can feel her scrunch her face up against your neck.

                                            >It no doubt looks extremely cute.

                                            "So. Pinkie turned up on my doorstep today offering me a job at the Cakes. Again."

                                            >Bon Bon tenses up.

                                            "I declined. Again."

                                            >She relaxes.

                                            >"Good. Sugarcube Corner is a crappy place to work. I hear they have rats."

                                            >With her still around your neck, you walk towards the kitchen to get everything turned on before the early customers arrive.

                                            >Pry Bon Bon off you and place her on the floor.

                                            >She looks up at you with a small frown.

                                            "What?"

                                            >"That wasn't five minutes."

                                            "I don't care."

                                            >Walk past her and open a cupboard to get out a few mixing bowls.

                                            >"...I do..."

                                            >Raise your head.

                                            "What was that?"

                                            >"Nothing. Get back to work."

                                            "Fine, fuck."

                                            >Bon Bon watches you root through the cupboards with a sad expression, then shakes her head and scowls before putting on her bakers hat.

                                            >"Stupid Anon."