As soon as you enter the house, you drop the bags on kitchen counter and crane your neck towards the clock on the wall. Celestia is going to be here in forty-five minutes, but knowing her, she’d be ten minutes early. Digging through the bags, you grab the ingredients and place them on the counter. A bunch of spinach, two bushels of almonds, an assortment of berries, and the most important part: the secret ingredient.

The salespony said it’s Celestia’s favorite fruit and that she eats it all the time, so adding it to a nice salad would be perfect. Something is off about this “secret ingredient”, however. The smell is horrid, almost to the point where you’re considering shoving garlic up your nose. Just looking at the paper wrapping that holds it makes your stomach queasy. But if it’s something that Celestia loves to eat, who are you to deny her?

Grabbing a cutting board, you open the door and hesitate. This never ends well, but it has to be done. Grabbing a carving knife from the drawer, you slowly place it down on the counter. Goosebumps cover your skin at the thought of what happened last time you used this knife. Poor Mr. Mittens…

You move over to the sink and run the tap; washing the parts of the salad was important to get rid of the junk that accumulated over it. Dripping a bit of soap on your hands, you lather the ingredients before dipping them under the water. Something’s off, however. The water is leaving a tingling sensatio—

“Ow!” you yelp, wrenching your hands away from sink. Every time! No matter how long you’ve been here, you always forget that the faucets are backwards in Equestria. Right is hot and left is cold. Running to the freezer, you swing it open and dip your hands into the small bucket of ice inside. The cold rushes over your hands, relieving the burning sensation. You stand there for a couple of minutes until the cold begins to hurt.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you mutter to yourself. As you pull your hands out, the bucket follows them. You stare at it for a moment, trying figure out what is going on. Then you remember: your hands were wet. Looking around the room, you try to find something to get you out of this trap. Maybe if you tap it against something hard…

With a quick swing, you smack the bucket against the kitchen counter, only to find pain surging throughout your arms. What was that trick to get a tongue that’s stuck to a frozen pole?

Oh yeah! Warm water! Moving over to the sink, you look down at it as the frostbite slowly develops on your hands. There’s only one problem: there’s no way to grab the handles. Leaning over the sink, you grab a handle with your teeth and let the hot water escape the spout. Carefully, you make your way to the second handle, making sure not to get caught in the stream of liquid pain. The cold water tap turns fine, bringing the water to a suitable temperature.

You lift your arms up and put the bucket in the sink. The water begins to fill the bucket rapidly. The feeling slowly comes back to your hands as you pull them out of the bucket and rub them together for warmth. With a distraught sigh, you turn back to the ingredients and wash them, making sure that they’re squeaky clean.

Placing the spinach on the cutting board, you grab the knife and stare it down.

“Look. You don’t like me and I don’t like you. But just this once, can we work together?” The knife, obviously, doesn’t respond back. Covering your mouth, you tilt it back and forth and whispering, “Sure thing, Anon!”

Holding the spinach with one hand, you slowly dig the blade into the vegetable, making sure your hand is clear from any damage that it may receive. Sure and steady, you successfully chop the spinach up and place it into a bowl. Added with a couple handfuls of berries and almonds, the dish is really coming together.

Looking over at the wrapping across the counter, you feel your stomach pull a backflip. Just the thought of its stench makes you retch. It was like someone took a rotting corpse and threw it into a pile of manure. As much as you detest the thing, you still had to add it to the dish for Celestia’s sake.

With a weary hand you grab the atrocious fruit and begin to unwrap it. The smell seeps into your nostrils, making your stomach churn. The name of this monstrosity?

The durian.

Just the name sounded disgusting, but the contents were a hundred times worse. Upon stabbing your knife into the center, the smell intensifies. You clip a clothespin on your nose to resist the smell, but it’s no use; it still seeps through, somehow. Grabbing the edges, you split the fruit into two, revealing the yogurt-like “meat” inside. Hands shaking, you scoop out the contents and dump them into the bowl.

Your stomach can’t take it any more. The texture, the smell, just the thought of this atrocity makes your stomach bubble. No matter how hard you try, you can’t hold it any more. A spray of vomit erupts from your mouth, layering the salad, the salad you so tirelessly took the time to get ready. Grabbing a napkin, you wipe your mouth and look into the bowl, realizing what you’ve done. That, and the added aroma of vomit and durian, makes your stomach churn once more.

You rush to the sink and let your stomach empty its contents. After a good minute or two, you finally feel better. That is, until the knock on the front door echoes throughout the kitchen. Looking up at the clock, you check the time. Celestia is ten minutes early. Running to the door, you place your eye against the peephole. Sure enough, she’s right at the door, wearing a light jacket. Cracking a forced smile, you open the door.

“Hi Celly!” She gives you a suspicious glance before putting on an uncomfortable smile.

“Good eveni—”

“Please! Come inside and take a seat!” you exclaim, wrapping your arm around her shoulder and practically dragging her inside. You point to the couch in the living room and chuckle. “I’m just finishing up dinner!”

Celestia muzzle lifts into the air, her nose taking in the air around her.

“Anon, do you smell… smoke?” Your heart sinks down to your feet. With the speed of Kenyans, you sprint to kitchen to find a thick cloud of smoke emitting from the salad bowl. Both you and Celestia stare at it in awe.

"How?!” you exclaim, looking at the princess in disbelief. “Seriously? How does this even happen?!” Celestia shrugs as you grab the bowl and immediately drop it. The thing is shearing hot. As the bowl crashes down on the tile, its contents follow the shards of ceramic across the floor. Celestia begins to giggle as you scramble over to the sink and grab the bucket now filled with melted ice water. You splash it all over the kitchen, putting out the bits of fire around the room. Celestia helps out by extinguishing cinders with her magic, eventually clearing the room of any flames.

“Thanks,” you mutter, grabbing a broom and dustpan. Even after all the scrubbing from earlier today, the room looked like a warzone. Hanging your head, you sweep up the ashes and bits of ceramic. Celestia helps you by holding the dustpan as you clear the ground. Luckily, you were prepared for this. Grabbing the bag, you dig out a loaf of bread, some hay, daffodils, and some feta cheese.

“I hope you don’t mind sandwiches,” you mumble, a little disheartened. Celestia smiles and pecks you on the cheek before grabbing a plate from the dish rack.

“Of course I don’t.”

The patio is probably your most favorite spot when home. This comfy hammock, beautiful mare, warm blanket, sandwiches, and starry night sky couldn’t have lifted your spirits any more. Celestia giggles as you tell her about your day.

“It’s so like you, Anon. How could you forget to make dinner? It was the whole point of the date!”

“I know that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I just spaced out while I was cleaning is all. I’m still upset that I couldn’t salvage your favorite dish, though.” Celestia raises her eyebrow as you let out an exasperated sigh.

“I never told you my favorite food. How did you find out?” You smile and shrug.

“The salespony at the market told me you love spinach salad with fruits, especially durian.” You resist the urge to throw up from the thought of the smell as Celestia sits up.

“Anon,” she starts with a stern face, “I detest durians, and spinach for that matter.” Looking over at her, you can’t help but smile.

“So I guess that spontaneous fire was lucky, huh?” you joke, laughing wholeheartedly. Celestia begins to chuckle, eventually breaking into a giggle fit. The two of you laugh for what seems like hours before wiping the tears from your eyes. You can’t help but notice how Celestia’s mane shines in the moonlight, giving it a radiant glow. Her eyes glisten as they meet with yours.

Celestia inches closer, her hot breath pressing against your face. Her eyes close slowly as her lips pucker. You bring your lips to her’s and lightly press against them, taking in the smell of her perfume which smells oddly similar to a field of flowers. Her breathing growing heavier as you get closer and closer. As your lips touch, a spark ignites as time comes to a stand still. For what feels like an eternity, you lock lips with the mare until she breaks free. Celestia nuzzles your neck before closing her eyes and falling asleep on your chest.

“I guess tonight makes up for the last date,” you mutter to yourself before passing out.

Author's Notes:

Interesting story. Tell it to Reader's Digest. I need to stop playing Megadeth so much.