It had to happen. There is truly no avoiding the inevitable, as Pinkie quickly learned. It was truly only a matter of time before her entire world would come crashing down on her, as her soft, playful mind tries desperately to grasp at the one thing left to her from everything the world had ever known. All those years of training, all those countless days of jumping dimensions and pandering to non-existent characters, Pinkamena Diane Pie was truly at a loss.

Every day for the last six months had been nothing but a complete and utter living hell for the pink mare as she grasped for straws trying to find a solution. Never before had anything so detestable been able to follow her, let alone catch her. And for that she was locked in the quiet little room that her archnemesis had locked her within.

How could something so damn smexy possibly exist? Every time Pinkie saw him, she wanted nothing more than to eat his candy and suck his monstrous lollipop. (Take that how you wish.) And the worst part is, he seemed to enjoy her sweets to. It had all started as just a little casual snacking, the basest of desires being met in a consensual, non-committal manner. However, after months of having a diet that resided almost exclusively off of the manbearpig's candy, Pinkie Pie was ill equipped to deal with even the thought of it ending.

Now I know that everything I just said sounds incredibly dirty and "uncouth", but do cut me some slack, won't you? Everything there was meant to be completely platonic (yeah right), and not at all a form of mindless, juvenile humor to pander to my crude little audience. Oh wait, sorry, no breaking the fourth wall! Oops. Anyways, back to my mindless little fic.

So Pinkie Pie decided to do the only thing she could: eliminate the competition. It started with Bon Bon, the most immediate threat to her pointless monopoly over the strange creature. She bought four little bottles of eye drops, and laced all of Bon Bon's produce with it. For those of you that don't know, putting trace amounts of eye drops in any consumable is a better laxative than even ex-lax in brownies, so naturally this left all of the light coated mare's clientele shitless.

The next, of course, was Derpy. How the hay could Pinkie possibly compete with those mare's muffins? Everypony wanted to butter them, and next to them, her own cupcakes were nothing special. Oh how the pink mare seethed in rage at the sight of such blasphemy to her ridiculously sugar-coated diabetic poison. It truly burned her up inside to see such relative bitterness becoming more appreciated than the nigh on pure sugar that she tried daily to stuff down everponys' throats.

The solution was simple: Convince Applejack to help Derpy make some more muffins. Considering the last time the cowpony had done it, the world could only go one way....west by south for eight clicks of a mile. Somehow. So of course, the next prime target was just as simple: eliminate the Cakes.

Yes, as much as she loved the Cakes, it was high time that the student rose past the master. Besides, she was getting tired of being aroused every morning at the sight of Mr. Cakes fugly jaw. It's rather embarrassing to trot around smelling of pheromones just from seeing a stallion's jawline, even one as hideously gorgeous as Mr. Cake's. Good luck ever watching my little pony again without staring at his underbite, those of you who are actually wanting to try reading this far in.

The manbearpig had a name, by the way. It is Mister Richard Bryce Philemon, for those of you wondering, and he is in fact a corporate executive, KGB special forces agent, and a double agent for the CIA of Equestria and the crown. This is only relevant since he is on the cover fanart to this fic, and that's really the only reason I am even writing this chapter. That, and stuffs. But I digress.

Pinkie Pie ate one of the cupcakes in her nearest batch and suddenly sprouted insect wings. Don't ask why, there's no fun in making sense. Anyways, with her new found ungodly powers, the eccentric mare when about the only thing she could possibly think of: flying in aimless circles all day long. All. Day. LONG.

"Pinkie, get your fat lard ass back down here!" Mr. Cake shouted viciously. The editor promptly shouts over my shoulder to delete that, but meh. "I need your lazy bum self to bake me eight thousand cupcakes in the next three hours, or my name isn't Mr. Crabs...er, Cakes!"

"Yes Master!" Pinkie immediately replied, obviously obeying due to her dronish hive mind that the Cakes had granted her after being given the pink mare in return for her parents being able to keep the farm. What? It's my fic, shut up. Why do you think Pinkie works for them so much?

Anyways, she willing complied, working herself near to the point of death for no other reason than to be an idiot that does and thinks what she's told. After hours of mindless, underpayed labor, Pinkie decided to take a rest in her small living quarters, silently slipping into her bed as she slept next to her fifteen illegal immigrants and one lethargic croc.

"Good Night, everypony!"

"Buenes noches, puta!"