Mr. Cake’s eyes were harshly illuminated by the crack of sunlight that crept in between the sliver between his window’s drapes. He honestly preferred mornings like this when he didn’t have to get up because Pound or Pumpkin Cake were crying for something. Turning to his still snoozing wife, he gave her a soft kiss before he slowly rolled from his bed and to his hooves, hoping to not wake her. Tip-hoofing to a wardrobe, he grabbed a large red and white-striped towel and crept out of the room. Mrs. Cake rolled to the center of the bed, happy to have more room to herself.

Mr. Cake walked out of the steamy bathroom with his wet, heavy towel held firmly in his teeth. As he breathed in through his nose, he could faintly detect something amiss. Peering into his bedroom through the ajar doorway, he saw his wife already sitting up and reading a novel. Pushing the door open and dropping his towel to the floor, it alerted Mrs. Cake to his presence.

“Hey, honey,” he said, unsure of the importance of telling her or not, “doesn’t Pinkie usually have the ovens warming up by now?”

“Usually…” she remarked with a hoof on her chin, “but she’s been so busy with Twilight and her friends, that we could probably let her sleep in once in a while.”

“Heh, I suppose you’re right.”

Without another word, he slipped back out into the hallway towards the staircase that would lead him down to the shop that he and his wife ran together. Passing by Pinkie Pie’s bedroom door, he had the thought of opening her door to check on her, but remembering his wife’s words, he smirked warmly and made his way down the steps.

Appearing in the shop’s foyer, he gave a sigh of content as he went around the counter and back toward the kitchen. As he reached the entryway…

“ey b0ss!”

Almost out of nowhere and fast as lightning, a bipedal creature with pink skin all over his body save for his tan face and hands popped out from behind and gave a wave and a smile that appeared almost cartoonish in its innocence.

“GYAHHH!” Mr. Cake shrieked, leaping back into the waiting area.

Hitting the back of his head, on the floor, he was too disoriented to move away from the pink thing as performed a spinaroonie beside him and then began to do fly-looking pushups atop of him.

“Sweetie!” cried Mrs. Cake, her voice at the top of the stairs. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Habe u s33n a Pinkie, plz?” the thing seemed to respond, his English very strained.

Just as Mr. Cake began to come to, he noticed a piece of paper stapled to the creature’s chest. Pulling it off, he began to read, squinting over how close to illegible it was written.

“Sweetie!!” shrieked Mrs. Cake coming closer. “Get off of him, you monster!”

With a devious looking smile, it responded, “Eeyagh roaiyahhh!”
I come bearing important news, you dumb horse cunt lol

“Hold on!” Mr. Cake said.

He began to sit himself up against the pink creature, which, to both his and his wifes’ surprises, cordially got off of him and stood to the side.

“This thing had a note on it.”

She stood by his side as he began to read the note aloud.

Dear Cakes,

I’m sorry I’m writing this on such short notice, but I need to run to the Crystal Empire for a couple of days! It’s okay though! I found this cutie. He said he’d cover for me until I get back! He’s says he’s a pretty good cook. I trust him entirely. Well, see you soon! Say hi to my favorite colt and filly for me!

Love,
Pinkie Pie

P.S. His name is Pink Guy! It rhymes with mine! Isn’t that funny?

The two of them looked back at the creature named Pink Guy in bewilderment, who was hunched over, still sporting that dumb, smug smirk on his head, and awaiting for them to speak to it.

“Um…” he attempted to question, “so Pink Guy-”

“-b0ss,” he curtly replied, now lying on the floor in a sultry pose, running circles along his ass with an index finger.

“Yes, so, um, being that I will be your, uh… boss, I need you to uh… help make this morning’s batch of cupcakes for the early rush.”

With inhuman speed and precision, Pink Guy flipped onto his fours in a frog-like stance, then turning back to them with an extremely enthusiastic thumb up and grin. He then proceeded to charge into the kitchen like a Scurrying Beast from Bloodborne, but not before throwing himself through the kitchen doorway. Mr. and Mrs. Cake winced upon hearing the sound of falling pots and pans along with his hard landing, accompanied with his exclamation of “oh FUQ!”

The two were silent together, unsure of what could have possessed Pinkie Pie to allow such a violently silly creature into their house.

“Should we call someone?” she asked.

“I’ll see if Twilight’s available,” he responded, slinking towards the exit.

“Good plan. I’ll go check on the foals.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nugRVka37k

Pink Guy, all alone in the kitchen with all the tools and ingredients he could need on the counter sported a rather serious look, looking directly towards a non existent camera. He was given a task most important by the pink-furred pony, and there was no way he would disappoint her or her employers, no way, no how! In fact, it began to inspire him to spit some funky lyrics.

Curious over Pink Guy’s supposed, progress, Mr. Cake peered inside to see Pink Guy grunting with the largest fucking grin on his face as he viciously stirred the batter in a metal bowl while stomping around the kitchen, his legs as wide apart as his stance could allow. The sight of such culinary animalism was shocking enough, but what alarmed Mr. Cake the most was the amount of batter getting whipped onto the floor and the tables while leaving the cupcake tins virtually spotless.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” shouted Mr. Cake, running inside.

Before Mr. Cake could take the bowl away, Pink Guy jumped 180 degrees perfectly before him and painted the front of his muzzle with the wooden spoon, leaving a sizable streak of uncooked batter over the front of it.

Mr. Cake was frozen, unsure of how to respond next, but seeing Pink Guy visibly calmer indicated he was about to tell him something. Pink Guy smiled again so that he cheeks almost covered his eyes and he quickly licked his upper lip in quick repetition, a series of small popping sounds appearing just as fast.

Understanding the crude gesture, Mr. Cake scraped a small amount of the batter from his upper lip with his tongue, but it didn’t take him long to react. Mr. Cake hocked a giant spit onto the ground, sputtering loudly as he wiped his face of any speck of that unholy concoction.

Pink Guy, at first shocked, grew angry with each glob that came off. His panting grew to growling to roaring, the spoon in his right hand breaking do to his grip while the bowl bent in his other.

“Disgusting,” he shouted, motioning towards the exit door. “Get out of my kitchen, you freak of nature!”

Pink Guy chucked the two broken pieces of spoon at the stove, one of the pieces knocking the grate off. He then threw the bowl with all of his might behind him, which flew like a Frisbee into the wall and was lodged in halfway due to the force.

“AHHAHAHHAHAEEY!” Pink Guy wailed
“You horsey fuckers can all go kill yourselves!”

Pink Guy marched out as per Mr. Cake’s instruction, pushing the door open and walking among the stares of the perplexed public around him.

“Sweetie,” called Mrs. Cake, galloping inside before stopping to another strange sight, even within the context of everything else that has gone on today, “is everything al-… oh.”

“And stay out!” he shouted, turning back to see what his wife was observing, his angered quelled but slightly over the sight.

Standing where Pink Guy had been was a similar bipedal creature. His skin was red and his face and hands were a light shade of brown, with a tiny tuft of black hair with golden highlights at the top of his face and a pair of thick-framed glasses over his eyes.

He gingerly sprinkled cocoa powder from his pinched fingers into a fresh bowl of cake batter as he mixed it. The entire table around him was impossibly organized and clean given the timing of Pink Guy’s departure, but who knows how many chromosomes it takes for the Lycran known as Red Dick to whip up a good batch of cupcakes.

“Oh, no, no, no!” shouted Mr. Cake, trotting with gusto at the new creature in his kitchen. “I’ve had it up to here with you guys, I’m not having another one ruin our business!”

Red Dick relinquished his position at this station and moved aside before Mr. Cake could shove him away.

“The pink one already wasted more than enough on the first batch…”

Mr. Cake quickly, but reluctantly dipped his hand into Red Dick’s batter and brought a small amount to his mouth. With a series of smacks growing slower and slower as he savored the flavor, he realized that this batter was infinitely finer in quality than what Pink Guy had put together.

“Honey,” Mr. Cake breathed, “you gotta’ try this. Oh, baby.”

Mrs. Cake, seeing the near-instantaneous positive change of expression, came over and sampled the batter as well. Her eyes widened and she took in a deep breath, overcome by the sheer deliciousness of what Red Dick had made.

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Cake said, handing his wife the bowl, “but I need to ask: Who are you now?”

Red Dick reached behind him and produced a folded paper out of thin air.

“小さなピンクの馬はこれであなたを残しています”
The small pink horse has left you with this.

Opening the note, Mr. Cake was already slightly miffed by the extra post-script left on there.

P.P.S.: This one said he’s a good cook too. His name is Red Dick.

Mrs. Cake appeared behind her husband and read it to herself. It was then that they suddenly heard the treble sound of Pomp and Circumstance coming from outside, near the front of the shop.

“また、別,” Red Dick responded, handing the two yet another slip.
Another one.

Opening it, they found another post-script.

P.P.P.S.: Looks like there are even more of them.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake both looked to each other now. Hopefully they would be as useful as the red one.