Food. Food. Food.

Oh my God, you're hungry. Ever since you came to Equestria, your diet has been horribly off kilter. You sit in front of your bowl of cereal, quickly growing mushy as you stare into it like a parent's disappointment.

With a sigh, you stir your bowl, wishing you could afford some eggs to at least get some protein in your diet. You're scraping the bottom barrel of food in Ponyville in order to get by. Which meant stale cereal, apples, salads, and the occasional quick cup of noodles is the every day norm. Extravagant pleasures such as a trip to Sugarcube corner, meant breaking an entire month's budget, or having to resort to doing additional jobs around town to make ends meet. Bringing a spoon of corn flakes to your lips, you let the mush slosh around in your mouth, before swallowing the unchewed grime. If you didn't need the energy, you'd push it away and just ignore it.

A knock on your door brings your first headache of the day. What else would you expect? You head to the door to greet, who you're sure is, Fluttershy. Ripping the door open, sure enough, the pink haired nuisance is on the other side, waiting for you.

"What?" you ask impatiently.

"Are creampies your fetish, Anon?"

You nearly choke on air. Taking a step back, you can't help but feel stimulated by the direct and, for once, sexual approach.

"What was that?" you ask, choosing not to believe your ears.

She reaches into a saddlebag, perched on her back, then pulls out a large, white pie with whipped cream on top. Then, a trail of drool dribbles out of your mouth.

Food. Actual, good, food.

And she's offering it to you at the cost of sex. Sex and Pie.

Let's take a step back here for a second. If you stick your dick in crazy, you get a pie.

On one hand, you have to refer to The Bro-Code, Section 3: Sticking Your Dick in It, Sub Article 2: Crazy. 'Don't do it.'

On the other hand, that's a fucking pie. You're a man that knows their price. Food is the surest way into your pants. And maybe heart. Maybe your heart is in your pants. Whatever. Not the point.

Fluttershy waves the pie in front of you, like a model on a televised game show.

"You want this pie?"

"I want it."

"You want this pie?"

"We aren't doing this joke," you say flatly.

"O-oh, okay."

You place a hand on your forehead and take a deep breath.

"Pies aren't my fetish. I'm just fucking hungry and want that pie."

"O-oh," she says.

She pauses. Fluttershy stares at the pie, then looks back to you. You look from her, back to the pie.

"Pie and sex?" she asks.

"Okay, let's make this quick."

Hey, what can you say? If you'd have to choose between death and sex with Fluttershy, you'd rather pie.

Author's Notes:

Don't forget to post ideas in the comments. I'm going to try to do one of these "small" ones a day, for awhile. As I can.

Yeah, it probably won't happen.