My wings make the most lovely buzzing as I explore beyond the borders of the Dark Trees. The buzz feels good. The Dark Trees have always been our home, and I know this even though I have just been alive for thirty seconds. The buzz feels good. I do not have a name. I don’t even have a mother or father, just a belch-sire that puked me up after eating some rotten animal remains. The buzz feels good.

The knowledge of our species has been passed down from belch-sire to belch-sire, burned into our grape-sized brains so that we have something to know and live by. The memories that are not mine swim through my head, and I discover that confusion is commonplace among our race. The buzz feels good. The knowledge is greatly trivial, as not all of the information gets transferred from our belch-sires. There are, however, three facts that every single one of us ever born knows by heart.

{1} We were created by King Discord, praise be his omnipotent name. He named us parasprites, so that is what we are and all that we shall be.

{2} His Chaotic Majesty made us with the purpose to be hungry, so we are always hungry. There is no breakfast, lunch, or dinner. There is only the Snack. The Snack is the world around us, generously giving us all the glorious food we could eat. The Snack can be anything, so we must EAT everything.

{3} The buzz feels good. The buzz is not just a sound, it is a vibrating sensation that each of us feels right to our core and out to every fiber of our being. It is like an eternal song of humming, and when we’re in a swarm, it feels like you are part of a thunderstorm, powerful and unstoppable. The buzz feels sosososososo good.

Beyond the Dark Trees there is sunlight. So much sunlight I have to squint my eyes! I hide behind a rock for shade. When I land, the buzzing stops. I am sad. I chirp, hoping the sound will mimic the bliss of buzzing. It does not.

“Who’s there?”

A voice. It sounds nice, but I’m not sure what ‘nice’ is. Nothing hardly feels nice for a paraspirte, save for the Snack and the buzz. I hop up to inspect. It is a pony, another thing that is foggy to my memories. Are they edible? Are they too part of the Snack, or do they have to be killed first by another creature, like how we eat squirrel carcasses after they’re finished by a fox? So many questions, and my mind is unfamiliar with anything to do with ponies!

The pony seems frightened at first, but then does something that my memories tell me is smiling. Smiling is apparently harmless, so I focus on other things. I look around. There is food! The Snack is gracious today, because it has taken the form of a nutritious apple. What luck! Most of the apples found in the Dark Trees are decayed before they even come off the branch.

I sniff the succulent morsel, wondering if it is too good to be true.

“Are you hungry, little guy?”

The pony is talking to me again. I do not fear her. I am only focused on the Snack. Without warning, she crushes the apple to mush and nudge it toward me. Well, that was downright sadistic! Now the Snack is tarnished with dirt, and we learned a long time ago that dirt was NOT meant for eating. I feel like screaming. I look around again, searching for something to replace the apple. I find a suitable substitute: More apples! They are in a wooden bucket, untouched by dirt.

OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM!

“Oh my, I guess you were hungry!”

The pony shows surprise, but not anger. This is strange. I still do not know much about ponies, but from the last known interaction with us, they don’t usually take kindly to us eating ‘their share’ of the Snack, which is another confusing issue. Their share? The Snack belongs to EVERYONE! If they believe that any part of the Snack is reserved for them, wouldn’t they have eaten it already?

But this pony does not seem upset. She picks me up and puts me her mane. It is warm blanket, and I feel sleepy just being in there. I snuggle up and make myself comfortable. I am barely awake when the pony snaps me to attention with an affectionate coo.

“You’re the cutest thing ever! I can’t wait until Angel meets you. I think I’ll call you ‘Mr. Munchies,’ if that’s okay with you.”

A name? I have a name now? What could qualify as my chest swells up with pride. I shall wear this name with honor. From this point forward, I am Mr. Munchies the 1st!

Dusk Shine trotted through Ponyville Central Park, admiring the decorations. Ribbons and banners dawned every tree and building. It was wonderful sight. Nothing could go wrong!

Except a minor typo on one the banners, that is.

“What are you two doing?” Dusk said to two workers, who went by Berry Punch and Carrot Top. “What happened to the the Princess’ name?”

“We couldn’t spell the real name,” explained Carrot Top.

“You actually think it’s appropriate to put up a banner that says ‘Welcome Princess Trollestia?’ She’ll send you to the moon! Take it down and write the real thing.”

“Who put you in charge?” questioned Berry Punch.

Dusk sniffed her breath. “Have you been drinking?”

“Maaaaybe...” Berry hinted, a smug smile across her face.

“Miss Punch, it is far too early to be consuming alcohol. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“It’s always five o'clock somewhere.”

“Berry Punch, Equestra is flat.” Dusk said stalely. “Everypony knows that.” He couldn’t believe that Berry believed that one insane theory that the world was round.

“You can’t *hic* prove that!”

“Oh, yeah? Then how could Nightmare Moon ever hope to cause eternal night?”

“She couldn’t! It was all a setup! Just so all of you could have a higher opinion of Celest-MMMPH!” The purple drunk was cut off by Carrot Top putting a hoof over her mouth.

“Sorry,” the orange-haired mare said. “She gets like this every time hits the strong stuff. We’ll fix that banner right away” She put on an embarrassed smile.

Dusk just shot a deadpan look, and walked away. Eventually, he reached Sugarcube Corner. Cakes, pies, and all kinds of desserts. They had to start baking one day prior to Celestia’s visit, so that could get enough sweets to please the Princess’ appetite.

There was, in fact, a rather intriguing history behind Celestia’s love for cake, and it spawned many interesting quirks in Equestrian culture.

It all started during the rule of Celestia’ father, King Equinox of Equestria. He was a benevolent and just ruler (except for the whole “ALL WHO OPPOSE THE THRONE SHALL BURN” thing, but that was kept in check by his wife, Queen Eternia of Equestria), and the most famous and notable thing he ever did was write the Two Holy Commandments of His Royal Majesty. He wrote them on the very mountain that Canterlot now resides, and just to get the point across, he chose the font of ‘Impact,’ and use the font size of ‘Eight-hundred-gazillon.’ The commandments read thus:

The punishment to disobey these laws in the presence of royalty was (and still is) being banished and locked up in the place banished to, so everypony made sure they were on their very best behavior while in the royal court. Thus, manners were invented. Snootiness followed soon afterward.

When Celestia was seven years old, she was trusted to tend to the castle during the time Equinox and Eternia went on their second honeymoon, which coincidentally was on the moon. (It was a funny joke at the time.) During the two weeks her parents were away, Celestia took the liberty to add a third commandment:

When the King and Queen got back, Celestia received a royal grounding along with a strict diet, but the third commandment remained intact. After all, how were you supposed to just erase something painstakingly chiseled into a mountain?

When her parents passed away and it her time to rule, Celestia came upon a startling revelation. The ponies were no longer obliged to give her pastries if she became Queen, because the law stated that her subjects had to feed their Princess her cake. So, she just officially made ‘Princess’ synonymous with the power and authority of ‘Queen,’ and kept her title.

This also made ripples in history. For example, the citizens of Equestria had to constantly keep a supply of desserts in stock, in case of an unexpected visit from the Princess. This meant that the ponies had to make extra room for tasty treats, so since Equestria hadn’t seen a war in centuries, the primary storage method was to throw out your weapons and use the space to stash some spare cupcakes.

This had some unforeseen consequences when a pack of Diamond Dogs raided the town of Hoofington, and the town was completely unarmed. The residents had to make do and fight back with pineapple upside-down cake. The results were silly, but proved surprisingly effective. Hoofington stands proud and unconquered to this day.

This began a new wave of deploying cakes, pies, and other desserts as lethal weaponry. Many battles were then won by souffles, not swords. The 'fight or flight' response, once coined by pegasi, was changed to something that applied to all ponies. It can be read on the sign of the door of Sugarcube Corner, as it is an arms dealer as well as a bakery: 'Run and hide, or assault them with pie!'

Pinkie Pie, however, didn’t give a buck about the Third Holy Commandment. Not one single buck. The bucks she didn’t give were just falling out the sky. All that mattered to her right now that there was cake on the table, and that she was going to eat it.

“Pinkie, stop!” pleaded Dusk when he saw what the party pony was doing. “Those are for the Princess!”

“I know that,” said Pinkie, thinking up an excuse. “I’m just making sure that these treats are scrum-dilly-umchous enough to touch...” She stuck her frosting-coated tongue out and gestured a foreleg on it. “...Th’ r’oyal t’oung!” She recoiled her tongue as if it was a roll-up measuring tape. “And I’m 99% sure that they’re delicious enough, buuuuut I need to eat some more of them to make sure that they were cooked just right.”

Dusk didn’t buy it for a second. “Can you just make sure that the Princess gets enough by the time she comes here?”

[I make no promises,] Pinkamena snarked. [I swear, this mare is going to get us all killed one day.]

I am still in the pony’s mane. The bucket of apples has done me well, for I have already given birth to two of my own kind. I tell them that their names are Mr. Munchies the 2nd and Mr. Munchies 2.5. They are overjoyed with their names. I tell them there is no longer need to fear the ponies, as they no longer mind sharing the Snack. This is a glorious day for parasprites, and the only thing that could make this better is buzzing.

Our prayers are answered when the pony tells us to come out. The buzz feels good. The pony is surprised, and she wonders out loud where Mr. Munchies the 2nd and Munchies 2.5 came from. I do not care if she knows or not, she’ll figure it out. The buzz feels good.

I am in a bakery. Good. Much of the Snack resides here. I dream of a wonderland of sweet things, like a mountain of gumdrops and cotton candy clouds.

The pony has friends. The purple unicorn offers to take Mr. Munchies 2.5. I bid farewell to him, hoping he finds a place with tons of the Snack. Separation from our blech-sires is common among us, as our purpose is to feed and spread. Feed and spread. Feed and spread. The buzz feels good.

“You want the other one, Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked.

“A parasprite? No thanks! I know what to do in this episode, and it doesn’t include making friends with those bug-freaks.”

[Pinkie, be careful not to break the you-know-what,] Pinkamena warned.

I know! assured Pinkie with a thought. But honestly, how do I know what to do otherwise?

Pinkamena was struck speechless. [...You have a point there,] she admitted. [How DO we know, anyway?]

That’s my point, Pinkie Pie thought, satisfied she won an argument with herself. There is no explanation given! Normally this would just be chalked up to ‘Pinkie just being Pinkie,’ but the moral of the story...

[Careful, Pinkie. You’re doing it again.]

...but the lesson to Celestia is that you should hear your friends out, no matter how ridiculous their solution may be. And it totally all flat just because Canon-Me doesn’t-

[Pinkie...]

-because the hypothetical version of myself that doesn’t exist doesn’t explain how or why she knows about parasprites, even after the climax-

[Pinkie.]

-after the end of the dilemma and everything is resolved. Hay, even PRINCESS CELESTIA doesn’t know what a bucking paraspite is!

[So, what are you going to do about it?]

Huh?

[I said, what are you going to about it? Make up a reason why you know? The... hypothetical readers are sick of all the headcanon. Just sit back and watch in total obliviousness? You’d let everypony you know down.] Pinkamena smirked. [There isn’t anything you can do to change the situation you’re in. You’re hooves are tied. You’ve been driven into a corner. Just accept it, you’ve lost. There isn’t anything we can do to show any disapproval to the hypothetical loophole without dooming all of Ponyville or breaking the you-know-what.]

...Maybe there is! Pinkie Pie said, inspiration dawning on her like a spark turning into a wildfire.

[What? What are you thinking?] Pinkamena was a little disturbed. [I know that look in your eye, Pinks. That look is not a good look. The last time you got that look, Gummy was charged for arson, and we barely got out that birdcage. I still have nightmares about that. Whatever’s on your mind right now, don’t do it!]

Just hear me out, said Pinkie, not listening to her darker half in the slightest. I think we should protest.

[How the hay are supposed to protest, and to whom?] By now, Pinkamena was less worried and more confused.

We protest to the author-I mean, the nonspecific deity that controls this realm. This is how we do it: The way to drive the parasprites out is so out-of-place that it could be rewritten in any manner, and it could still work, right?

[Okaaay...] Pinkamena nodded. [Debateable, but okay.]

So, I figure that if we could get the most random assortment of objects we can find and slap them all together at the last minute, the nonspecific deity will have no choice but to make it work in a way that solves the parasprite problem! This will not only save Ponyville, but it will also make the hypothetical version of myself look like a total butt!

Pinkamena could only gawk at the absurdity of this plan. Worse, it almost made actual sense, in its own twisted sort of way. [Alright, I’m going with you on this, but only to see it blow up in your face.]

“Woo-hoo!” Pinkie cheered out loud. “Operation: Exploit the Living Horseapples Outta This Episode Without Being Meta is a-go!”

“Pinkie, what are you talking about?” said Dusk Shine.

“Nothing,” lied Pinkie. “On a completely unrelated subject, do you know where I can find a bowling ball?”

“Uhh... at My Little Lebowski’s?” Dusk said with a hint of bewilderment. “You know, the bowling alley?”

“Great! Now, where can I buy a crowbar?”

“What?”

*WHACK!*

“My balls!”

“Silly me, I forgot I already had one!”