Joe, known far and wide as Donut Joe, prided himself on his work. He was an expert, an artist that made masterpieces out of fried dough and frosting. All of Canterlot knew that the only place to get donuts was at Joe’s.

So when a famous food critic walked into his shop, Joe was not at all concerned. He politely asked for the stallion’s order and went back to the kitchen to make the donut.

And what a donut it was! Only the finest ingredients! Hand-made frosting, dough fried with the heat of Joe’s own fiery passion (and the oven if you want to take the magic out of the whole thing), and store-bought sprinkles.

Ok, so maybe not all the ingredients were the finest in Canterlot, but Joe put those sprinkles on the donut with the precision of a surgeon! He put the donut on the plate and walked it back out to the critic, setting in front of him and giving a friendly, “Enjoy your donut!”

Joe had other customers, so he couldn’t watch the critic take his first bite. As the last customer received their order, Joe turned to ask if there was anything else he could get for the critic.

There was no critic. There was only a few bits on the counter and the half-eaten donut left on the plate.

Joe stared at the empty seat for a long while. He shook his head and thought, Get it together Joe. He’s a busy stallion, he doesn’t have time to finish everything that’s on his plate. Just wait until tomorrow and you can see how much he liked it in his review.

Confident that he’d hear nothing but praise in the critic’s review, Joe took the bits and put them in his pocket.

The next morning, the newspaper came. Joe hurriedly brought it inside the shop and opened it. He found the critic’s column and began to read:

Fine Palate’s Mouthful’s:

In my time as a critic for this paper, I have been to many places I had, at first glance of the place, assumed that I would be very disappointed. However, in many of these cases, the food and the service had forced me to reconsider my opinions; having won me over with their delicious food and caring attitudes. These places hold a special place in my heart and I’ll sing their praises to Celestia herself.

Donut Joe’s is not one of those places.

It’s charming enough, in a sort of small town donut stand feel. However, once I saw the slob sitting behind the counter, I began to regret my decision to review the place. Still, I pressed on and gave him my order. Joe grunted and stomped back into the kitchen. From the clatter that arose from that back room, I assumed the so-called cook was banging pots and pans around without a clue as to how to prepare a simple donut.

Joe came out of the kitchen and slammed the disgusting looking plate on the counter. He gave me a condescending “Enjoy your meal” and stomped off to interrogate ponies that stumbled into the shop.

I looked at the donut and thought, “Come on Palate. So the service isn’t that great, but maybe the food will make up for it.”

Spoiler alert: It didn’t.

I don’t know what that stallion did in that kitchen, but it sure wasn’t to make a tasty treat. The donut left such a sour taste in my mouth that I couldn’t even finish it. I could only stomach half of the “pastry” in front of me. Feeling nauseous, I threw some bits on the counter and left, vowing to never set foot into Joe’s ever again.

The jimmies on the donut were excellent, however.

Rating: 2/5

Joe shakily put the paper down. A 2 star review. This was the worst review he had ever received in his entire career of donuts.

He gave a nervous laugh. “H-how many ponies really read the paper?” he asked himself, trying to regain some confidence. “I bet that practically no one reads Fine Palate’s review. Yeah,” he said, starting to feel better, “Why, I bet that the morning rush will happen just like it does every morning!”

No one came in that morning.

Or afternoon.

Or evening.

Joe raised a shaky hoof and flipped the sign on the door to "Closed". He walked over to a booth and collapsed on it. Not one customer? That had never happened. Even when he first opened, he had a few ponies wander in out of curiosity.

Joe stumbled over to the counter and grabbed the paper. How can one little review completely destroy his business? He crumpled the paper up and threw it away from him. He glanced around the empty store and sighed. There was no more reason to stay; he didn’t even have to clean up anything.

Joe locked up and left his store, his head hanging low. Maybe there would be customers tomorrow? Just one…

Joe looked up and started walking down the sidewalk. If no one came tomorrow, he’d have to think of something. He couldn’t keep his store open if he didn’t have customers. Maybe he’d have to try a new recipe or something…

Joe passed by the neighboring store. It was a bookshop that had opened some time ago. Back when he had customers, he would often see them with bags containing their new books. He had even heard some of his more bookish customers complain that they had got jelly or glaze on their new purchases.

Joe was passing the display window of the bookstore when something caught his eye. A large purple book was on display. A sign next to the book read, “Does your cooking technique leave something to be desired? Do you feel like nobody is appreciating your food? Try 100 Potions for the Kitchen Vol. 2! It’ll guarantee that crowds of ponies will be clamoring for your food! Not even a 2 star review would keep them away!”

Joe scoffed. “I don’t need that,” he said, “My technique is fine. I get hundreds of customers every…” Joe trailed off, remembering that no one had shown up that day.

A few minutes later, Joe walked out of the bookshop, clutching the book. He quickly walked back to his restaurant and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and hurried to the kitchen, where he put the book on the counter and thumbed through the pages.

“Let’s see…” he muttered to himself. “Pies…Cakes…Cobbler…Donuts!” He started reading the page, “Donuts to Die For…guaranteed satisfaction…ponies won’t stop eating your donuts! Perfect!” He glanced at the ingredients for the potion. “Why,” he began excitedly, “I conveniently have all these ingredients here in the kitchen! I can start this right away!”

And start he did. He mixed ingredient after ingredient until, about an hour later, he had a potful of blood red liquid. “Perfect!” cried Joe. He began to make a fresh batch of donuts, using his usual recipe. Soon, he had a dozen warm donuts in front of him. He carefully grabbed a ladle and scooped up some of the potion. He poured small amounts of the potion on all of the donuts.

Putting the ladle back into the pot, Joe muttered, “Let’s see if this works.” He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it.

His eyes went wide.

“This…this donut…” he began. He threw the pastry back onto the tray and yelled, “This donut tastes just like my regular donuts!”

He glared at the book, which was still open on the counter. “This thing was a waste of my time.” He left the book and walked back out into the dining area. He glanced at the clock, which read 1:20.

Joe sighed and sat down in one of the booths. “It’s so late. I might as well just sleep here for the night. No sense in even opening tomorrow…” He sighed morosely and flopped down on the seat. After several minutes, Joe finally fell into a restless sleep.

In what felt like no time at all, Joe woke up with a start. He glanced around the dark restaurant and looked at the clock, which read 2:30. Joe rubbed his eyes and laid back down.

There was a noise, as though someone had just ran into something.

Joe quickly got back up and peered around. “Hello?” he called. “Is someone here?”

There was no response.

Joe slowly got out of the booth. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, but what made the noise? He slowly started moving towards the light switch on the wall.

There was another noise, as though somebody had pushed a chair aside.

Joe quickly ran to the light switch and flipped it on. Instead of a menacing intruder, like he expected, the illuminated room revealed nothing. Nothing, except for a stool at the counter, which had fallen over.

Slowly, Joe made his way over to the stool. He kept glancing around the room, excepting someone to jump out at him suddenly.

When he finally reached the stool, Joe gave it a look over. None of the legs were broken, which means the stool did not fall over on its own. Joe was about to pick it up when he noticed something on the floor.

“A donut?” he asked.

Indeed, a donut with chocolate covered frosting was lying on the floor. Joe scratched his head in confusion. He hadn’t made any donuts today, aside from the ones in the kitchen. He shrugged. Maybe it had been left over from yesterday.

Joe reached towards the donut. He should throw it away so he didn’t get ants in his store.

Something very odd happened.

Before Joe could grab the donut, it leaped towards him. With surprising strength, it knocked the stallion on his back. “EAT ME,” it snarled as it crawled towards him.

Joe quickly got back on his hooves. “What the?!” he yelled.

“EAT ME,” growled the donut as it leaped again.

Joe got out of the sentient pasty’s path and it soared past him. It hit the wall and slid down it, leaving a trail of chocolate frosting. It landed on the floor and began to, once again, crawl towards Joe. “EAT ME,” it screamed.

Joe backed away, his back hitting the counter. “What is this?!” he asked to himself.

Something fell from the counter and onto the floor in front of him.

A donut with pink frosting moaned, “EAT ME.” It launched itself at Joe, latching onto his legs.

“EAT ME!” yelled the chocolate frosted donut as it launch itself again. It grabbed Joe’s ear. “EAT ME!”

Two more donuts, with white and blue frosting, rolled off of the counter and landed in front of Joe. “EAT US,” they begged.

Joe screamed. He started to run for the exit, but tripped. The two donuts jumped at him and grabbed his throat. “EAT US,” they yelled. One of them started hitting Joe’s mouth, desperate to open it. “EAT US!”

The door opened. “Joey! Are you here?”

Joe looked up to see a familiar pink pony. “Pinkie?” he asked. While he was distracted, the white frosted donut forced itself into Joe’s mouth.

Pinkie smiled. “Joe!” she greeted, ignoring the stallion’s attempts to spit out the donut. “You’ll never believe this! Me and the girls are in Canterlot because Twilight has to talk with Princess Celestia and I read your review in the paper this morning and I couldn’t believe that you would get such a bad review so I figured I’d find the review and bring him back so you could make him another donut and he would love it and give you a good review and-”

“And,” chimed in a voice. A very tired looking Fine Palate stepped out from behind Pinkie. “And she came to my house and pounded on my door until I opened it. She grabbed me and dragged me back to this…this…My lord, man, what are you doing?” Palate stared at Joe as he struggled with the donuts.

“Help!” choked out Joe through the donut in his mouth.

“I must say,” began Fine Palate, “I considered you a decent enough stallion, Joe, but this only confirms what I wrote in my review. Here you are, in the dead of night, playing with your food! Is that why the donut yesterday was so disgusting? Did you roll around with that one on the floor too?”

“Are you playing a game?” asked Pinkie, ignoring Palate. “Can I play?”

The chocolate frosted donut let go of Joe’s ear and started crawling towards Pinkie and Palate. “EEEEAT MEEEE!”

Palate gave out a high-pitched scream as the donut crawled towards them. “W-what is this?!”

Pinkie gasped. “Food that can talk?!” She smiled. “This is so cool! How did you do it, Joe?”

Joe got back up on his feet and finally spat out the donut. He shook the other ones off and rushed towards the chocolate covered donut. He got in front of it and kicked it. The pastry went flying, hitting the counter with a smack.

Joe ran over to the other two as three more donuts rolled out from behind the counter. “The potion!” said Joe. “We need to get into the kitchen!” He ran towards the door to the kitchen, the other two closely following him.

“This…is…ridiculous!” said Palate as he dodged a jumping donut.

“Ridiculously amazing!” said Pinkie as she shoved a yelling donut into her mouth.

“THANK YOU FOR EATING ME!” shouted the donut, getting chewed.

Joe burst into the kitchen, looking around. His jaw dropped as he looked at the scene in front of him.

Hundreds of donuts were crawling around, screaming. The oven was on and various donuts were baking more and more donuts. The donuts had grabbed the ladle in the pot full of potion and were pouring them over the newest sentient treats.

“EAT ME!” screamed a newly alive donut.

A sentient bear claw simply roared.

“Eat me, eh?” asked a maple bar.

“By Celestia!” screamed Palate. He pointed to where the donuts were putting sprinkles on other donuts. “They’re rustling my jimmies!”

“There!” shouted Joe, pointing to the counter. The book was still open, and still on the page for Donuts to Die For. “We need to grab that book?”

“How?” asked Palate, kicking a donut away from him. “There are hundreds of these things in here!”

“We need a distraction!” shouted Joe as he struggled with the rabid bear claw.

“I volunteer as tribute!” said Pinkie excitedly. She bounced to the edge of the kitchen and shouted, “I’LL EAT ALL OF YOU!”

Every pastry in the kitchen froze and slowly turned to the pink pony.

“EAT US!!!” They all screamed as they charged. They quickly swarmed Pinkie.

“I’ll eat you!” said Pinkie, grabbing the maple bar.

“Try me with poutine, eh?” said the maple bar as it was devoured.

“I’ll eat you too!” said Pinkie, eating another donut. “And you…and you…and…hold on, guys…” Pinkie’s eyes widened as she was brought down by the donuts. “There’s too many!” she screamed as the pastries covered her. “THERE’S TOO-” Her screams were silenced as she disappeared from view.

Joe rushed forward and grabbed the book. “PINKIE!” he yelled, turning back to the swarm of donuts. There was no reply from the mare. Joe strode forward, determined to find her, but felt a tug on his leg.

“Come on!” shouted Palate. “We need to get out of here!”

“But-” began Joe, looking back towards the swarm of donuts. Several of them had abandoned the group and were making their way back to the two stallions.

“Come on!” said Palate.

The two ran back out into the dining area and ran to the booth at the back of the store. Joe put the book on the counter and began reading aloud, “Donuts to Die For…Guaranteed satisfaction. Literally. The donuts won’t stop unless you say that you are satisfied with them. Ponies won’t stop eating your donuts unless they say that they liked them and mean it.”

“What does that mean?” asked Palate. He nervously watched as hundreds of donuts crawled out of the kitchen.

“It means we have to say we liked the donuts!” said Joe. He looked at the oncoming swarm and yelled, “My donuts sure are delicious!”

The swarm paid no mind, and only started crawling towards them faster.

“Why isn’t it working?!” screamed Palate hysterically.

“I don’t think it counts if I say it!” said Joe. “You need to say you liked my donuts in order to get them to stop!”

“Me?!” said Palate, his eyes widening. “But I didn’t like your donuts! I thought they were disgusting!”

“EAT US EAT US EAT US!” yelled the swarm as they increased their pace.

“You have to try them again!” yelled Joe. He grabbed a white-frosted donut. “Here!” he said, holding it out to Palate.

“Wait…” began the other stallion, looking at the donut suspiciously. “Is that the one that was in your mouth?”

Joe growled and shoved the donut into Palate’s mouth. The other stallion coughed and choked, spitting the donut out. “You imbecile!” screamed the critic. “That was the worst-”

Joe cleared his throat and nodded to the swarm, who were motionless, almost as if they were watching the whole thing.

“I…I mean…I loved it?” said Palate unconvincingly.

“…Really?” asked one of the donuts.

“Y-yes! Really!” said the critic.

“…I don’t believe you,” said the donut. The swarm began to move forward again.

“No no!” said Palate. “I mean it, I do! I’ll prove it!”

The swarm stopped again, silently watching Palate.

The critic carefully grabbed another donut, a simple glazed one. He stared at the donut in his hooves and then at Joe.

“Go on,” pleaded Joe.

Palate gulped nervously. He brought the donut close to his mouth. He shuddered and quickly took a bite and swallowed.

His eyes went wide.

He took another bite.

And another.

And another.

Soon, the whole donut was gone, having been devoured. “You know…” said Palate, grabbing a napkin from a nearby table and wiping his mouth. “That wasn’t too bad. In fact…” He grabbed another donut, this time a chocolate-frosted one. “I think I’ll have another.”

The donuts cheered as Palate began to eat the pastry in his hands. Joe smiled as he saw Palate’s satisfied grin.

“I like these donuts!” said Palate as he finished his second one. He grabbed another and quickly bit into it. “I love these donuts!”

The donuts collectively sighed and flopped to the ground, lifeless. Palate’s words had reversed the potion’s effects, leaving the pastries harmless.

“Joe,” said Palate as he grabbed a fourth donut, “You have my deepest apologies. I will post a new review in tomorrow’s paper. I’ll ensure that you’ll have more customers than ever!”

“Thank you, Mr. Palate,” said Joe smiling. His smile disappeared as he remembered something. “Speaking of customers…” He ran back into the kitchen.

The mountain of donuts on top of Pinkie were now lifeless. Joe quickly moved all of them off Pinkie and looked down at the mare. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing. Red liquid covered her face and body.

“Oh Pinkie…” said Joe sadly. He cradled the mare’s head in his hooves. “You were always my favorite customer…”

There was a growling noise.

Pinkie groaned and held her stomach. “My tummy hurts…”

“Pinkie!” said Joe excitedly. “You’re alive!”

Pinkie opened her eyes and said, “I don’t think I want any more donuts…” She looked down at her body and instantly perked up. “Ooh! Jelly!” She licked her lips, swallowing some of the jelly.

Joe and Pinkie laughed. Palate came into the room and laughed with them. Outside the sun rose, signaling that the long night was finally ov-

“Hang on,” interrupted Twilight Sparkle.

Pinkie paused in her storytelling. “What?” she asked.

The two ponies were sitting in Joe’s restaurant, waiting for their donuts. The place was crowded, but Twilight and Pinkie had managed to grab one of the booths.

“Your story makes no sense,” said Twilight. “First off, there isn’t a food critic named Fine Palate. Second, there is no potion that can grant life to food. And third, if the donuts stopped because this ‘Palate’ said he liked them, how come they didn’t stop when you were eating them?”

Pinkie stared at Twilight. “So what are you saying?”

Twilight sighed. “You’re whole story is just that. A story. Fake. Made up.”

“But it really happened!” exclaimed Pinkie.

Joe walked over and set down a large plate with various donuts on them. “Here you are girls!” he said. He looked at Twilight. “Pinkie telling that donut story again?”

Twilight nodded. “She is and I don’t believe it for a second.”

“But it’s real!” She looked at Joe. “Right?”

Joe chuckled. “Sure kid, whatever you want to believe.”

Twilight smiled and gestured to the plate of donuts. “Still, you’re story did make me hungry. And these donuts look so good!” She grabbed one with her magic and brought it close to her mouth.

“Eat me…” whispered a voice.