Shutdown64

Bread pone

Jan 26th, 2015
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  1. Blame >>21217212 for this wonderful typo that birthed this silly idea.
  2. ---
  3.  
  4. "Let me GO. I'm definitely not okay with this!"
  5. >The woman's shrill laugh rang out as she continued to mix viscous beige goop in a large, metal vat
  6. >"It's yer own damn fault! Sneaking in to other people's property! I'll teach you just like the rest of you wee shites."
  7. >A thin film of sweat glazes your upper lip as you dangle ominously from above
  8. >You'd gotten into this predicament after being pepper-sprayed
  9. >She'd successfully handcuffed you as you dealt with the sensation of needles piercing your corneas
  10. >Now you were captured and essentially a victim
  11. >No, not essentially - you are about to be a victim
  12. >There was no denying it
  13. >There just didn't seem to be any escape from this situation
  14. >To your left a roaring oven blasts hot air over your body, fear starting to squeeze your heart
  15. "Okay, shit, I'm sorry, please, I'll give you whatever you want, just let me go."
  16. >There's no direct reply, just a loud guffaw as the woman smiles to herself
  17. >"It's done. Down you come, you rodent. Oh don't worry, you won't be one for much longer."
  18. >Her fist hits a button, and immediately the hook you're latched on to descends
  19. "What? I said sorry, okay! Jesus, you're not going to dip me into, into..."
  20. >You stare past your trembling feet into the vat. It smells... yeasty
  21. "What the hell is this?! No!"
  22. >Your shoes are lost as they get absorbed into the thick liquid
  23. >"It's dough, my dear. Or rather, a special dough. You'll see soon enough."
  24. >You struggle and yell, but no one is coming to save you
  25. >In no time at all, the dough is up to your waist
  26. "What the fuck is this? Are you going to drown me in dough and put me in that oven?!"
  27. >It was completely ludicrous, and yet that was the only logical outcome your brain could predict from this nightmare scenario
  28. >"Almost, but not quite. I'm not drowning you, I'm breaking you down and re-molding you in an image I see fit."
  29. >Body wet and sticky, the dough bubbles ominously as you sink to your shoulders.
  30. "Wha- *hack* I don't und- ah!"
  31.  
  32. -
  33.  
  34. >A cruel smile curls the woman's lip
  35. >"Don't talk, sweetie. You're going to need that air."
  36. >Fear was at maximum; your eyes water as you try to scream, but it's hopeless
  37. >Warm, salty dough squeezes down your open throat and up your nose, making you gag.
  38. >She was drowning you
  39. >She was going to be the last person you ever saw
  40. >You'd never felt this helpless before
  41. >Determined not to give up, you wrestle violently against the dough
  42. >It has no effect; movement completely nullified by the viscous goopy padding
  43. >This was it - you're going to die, right here, right now
  44. >Christ, if only you'd woken up this morning with the knowledge you had now...
  45. >Suddenly no air, no light.
  46. >The claustrophobic sensation of being buried alive.
  47. >The final moments become hazy - adrenaline-filled rage as darkness grows from the corner of your eyes
  48. >Your lungs burn as they're oxygen-starved
  49. >You choke as dough continues you press in down your throat like a large snake.
  50. >And then as it gets too much...
  51. >Nothing.
  52. >But not the nothing you'd expect
  53. >You're still conscious, but can't explain how
  54. >"Here we go. You'll make a nice addition to our family."
  55. >Next thing you know, you're being stretched
  56. >Not just stretched as in a yoga exercise, but -stretched-
  57. >Every fiber of your being is being pulled apart and rolled.
  58. >You try to speak but you have no lips, mouth, or even a tongue
  59. >All you can do is come along for the ride as every inch of you is kneaded, rolled, splashed with milk, flattened, folded, tweaked, rubbed and smoothed out.
  60. >"...And the finishing touches - your eyes."
  61. >And just like that, you can see again.
  62. >But did you want to? Well, that was another question entirely
  63. >You were lying on your side on top of some grease-proof paper
  64. >Sense of touch was still eluding you, but you could see that every inch of your body was the same beige as the dough vat
  65. "Jujh what dudja dou?"
  66. >Speaking doesn't come naturally, your jaw like rubber.
  67. >"Now dear, don't speak yet - you're still raw."
  68.  
  69. -
  70.  
  71. >Still raw?
  72. >Slowly your brain tries to piece together what's happened
  73. >Wait...
  74. "Figured it out? I can tell by the shock in your eyes."
  75. >The woman laughs again.
  76. >"Yes, you became one with the dough. I've now recreated you in MY image. You can call me Mummy, if you want."
  77. >Her laugh is sickening
  78. >You try to clench your teeth, but all you do is squish them together instead
  79. "Oh don't do that dear, I'm about to bake you! I won't be able to repair you after that."
  80. >She coos sarcastically as she sticks her long fingers into your mouth to fix the damage
  81. >Fear gripped you again as your mind looped on one word - 'bake'
  82. >Was she about to chuck you into that oven from earlier?
  83. >The very thought of being cooked alive was just as bad as being buried alive
  84. >With every ounce of strength you had you try to move, but it's no use
  85. >You're just a floppy, listless wad of dough, not unlike a jellyfish out of water
  86. >In fact, what WERE you?
  87. >From what you could see, you certainly didn't have the same body proportions as before
  88. >Were you even still human?
  89. >Before you can ask the woman walks past brandishing a cookie cutter.
  90. "For you."
  91. >You watch silently as she sticks it into your side removing a large chunk of dough from your hip
  92. >"Confused? Oh, you'll see." she leers.
  93. >An alarm rings, accompanied by electrical whirring and shaking ground
  94. >Fuck, you were on a conveyor belt!
  95. >"Ta ta for now, love. Don't fidget or you'll regret if you do!"
  96. >All of a sudden, you're moving
  97. >No, this can't be happening!
  98. >You watch your murderer for the last time again - something you didn't think possible
  99. >How serious were her final words? If you move would it really permanently deform you?
  100. >Red light starts growing brighter overhead
  101. >Not being able to turn round and face the danger was an awful experience
  102. >Instead you just had to wait patiently for your impending 'cooked alive' fate
  103. >It's lucky you can't feel anything, you suppose
  104. >Just as the waiting peaks, red lights shines directly down on to you
  105. >This is it
  106.  
  107. -
  108.  
  109. >The conveyor belt shudders to a stop
  110. >You glance around feverishly; Has the oven broken down? Are you safe?
  111. >You stare longingly at the heat-resistant curtains that block the oven entrance
  112. >They were just too far away, how could you manage to shuffle over there in time?
  113. >You were about to be baked alive!
  114. >The oven's element continues to warm up, tinting the surrounding walls an ominous blood-orange
  115. >Hysterical, you urge your body to make the even the slightest of moments
  116. >That woman's warnings be damned! You're getting out of here
  117. >Even getting off the grease-proof tray would be a goal
  118. >But alas, there was barely any functionality left in your body
  119. >Like you were in control of a toy that'd recently ran out of batteries
  120. >Dully, a distant part of your brain starts reporting changes occurring to your mass
  121. >Were you... expanding?
  122. >Self-raising bread?
  123. >Whatever was happening, it was creating feeling in your listless form for the first time
  124. >After 5 minutes your sense of smell returns, alongside some mild movement
  125. >Your skin was changing, puffing up and darkening
  126. >It smelt delicious
  127. >Then it dawned on you
  128. >You are scrumptious bread cooking in a oven
  129. >What the fuck had gone wrong in your life?
  130. >You still didn't register the oven's heat
  131. >You could certainly tell it was humid, but there wasn't any burning or discomfort
  132. >In fact, it was kinda nice... like being in a warm blanket
  133. >No! You can't enjoy this, you need to escape!
  134. >Mentally slapping yourself, you try and move an arm
  135. >Part of your body twitches, but it doesn't feel right
  136. >Your fingers just don't seem to add up
  137. >It feels like you only have 1 finger, and it's pretty long
  138. >Curious, you turn your head to investigate
  139. >Immediately you realize this was a mistake
  140. >Weight shifts on your head as something sags
  141. >Whatever it was hadn't set yet, folding in on itself
  142. >Instinctively you shake your head to correct it, but that just makes the dangling part become looser, until it's suddenly not connected
  143.  
  144. -
  145.  
  146. >The evil woman's warning plays in your mind again:
  147. >"I'm about to bake you! I won't be able to repair you after that."
  148. >Had you just irreversibly damaged yourself?
  149. >You can't tell - you don't feel pain or anything else, but still...
  150. >You decide it'd be safest to just lie there and take the heat
  151. >Don't want to accidentally fuck yourself up worse than you already were.
  152. >Just a pathetic piece of delicious-smelling bread curled up in a nice, toasty oven
  153. >What was your life going to be now?
  154. >The alarm rings out just as your mind drifts off into darkness
  155. >The belt is moving!
  156. >Not far, however, as it shifts a few feet and stops
  157. >Being able to articulate yourself better, you look up and take note that you're now under a different element of the oven
  158. >How long was this going to go on?
  159. >Knowing that intervention was pointless, you curl up and endure more baking
  160. >"Oi, you rotten little shit! What did I tell you about moving?!"
  161. >You start awake, still lying on the tray
  162. "What?!" you blurt out
  163. >The tray suddenly goes airborne as you realize you're being carried
  164. >"Your left ear, it's totally ruined!"
  165. >Left ear? Idly you try groping it
  166. >Something warm and soft collides the side of your head
  167. >You can't feel anything where you'd expect your ear to be, but you do notice that your hand feels... flat.
  168. >"Your ears are on top of your head, you utter nonce!"
  169. >You blink up at her, then down at your odd hand
  170. >It's definitely not the shape you'd expect, almost as if someone had cut your hands off at the wrists
  171. "Uhm...?" was all you could muster, your heart swelling with fear for the 100th time tonight
  172. >"Well, no matter. Your lost." she tuts, continuing to carry you on the tray
  173. "Wait, where are my hands? Where are my ears? What's going on? Why does my... butt itch?"
  174. >Upon waking, a small violent itch had erupted around your rear
  175. >At one point you would have been embarrassed to say it, but now you didn't care any more
  176. >"Oh, does my little pony have a yeast infection?"
  177.  
  178. -
  179.  
  180. "Wait, WHAT?"
  181. >The woman lets out a curt laugh
  182. >"Oh yes dear, you're my little bread pony now. I'm really surprised you haven't figured it out yet, you dough-brain."
  183. >Your brain stumbles over itself as this utterly impossible statement pollutes your mind
  184. "Bread... pony?"
  185. >"Why yes, just as it sounds. I mixed your body in with my special dough, reformed you in the shape of a cute little pony, and then baked you. What part of that is hard to grasp?"
  186. >Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You close it again.
  187. >"You're wondering why? Well, punishment is the major part of the reason, but also I like food-themed ponies."
  188. "There's more!?" you splutter, before pausing
  189. "Wait... Something's not right..."
  190. >You stroke your throat with a stubbed arm
  191. >"You dare imply that I've made a mistake? Honestly, how's that any way to treat the person who will now be taking ownership of you?"
  192. "Ownership!? No, turn me back you utter bumblecunt bitchfuck! I'll fuckin' break your head!"
  193. >The sensation of movement stops abruptly, like the woman's ankle had been snagged.
  194. >"Now now, less of that. There's 3 potential fates for you here, so you need to be nice to me."
  195. >You look up into her wrinkled face, her crooked, yellowed teeth gritted
  196. >"1 - You are bread. You will expire and go moldy in a matter of days without my protection. 2 - You are edible. I am not above eating my creations. 3 - Bread + Water = Irreparably Soggy pony"
  197. >This can't be happening
  198. "I'd rather be... dead, than remain like this! An abomination of life! I shouldn't exist! I should have drowned in the vat and died!"
  199. >"Oh yes, because we all saw how noble and brave you were as we lowered you into the dough, Loafy?"
  200. "...Loafy?" you repeat
  201. >The woman laughs again.
  202. >"Just trying to place a name. Flour? No... Flatbread?... nah, Pan... Pan..."
  203. "But I have a name!" You interject, "It's-"
  204. >"No, you do not! And if I ever hear you SPEAK your name, it's over. Now be a good girl for me Pan while I introduce you to the rest."
  205.  
  206. -
  207.  
  208. >Despite just coming out of a toasty oven, you shudder
  209. >The vile woman, who was a scary figure before, was now absolutely terrifying
  210. >Defeated, you watch her as she continues to carry you
  211. >Having to tilt your head up drastically just to catch a glimpse of her chin drilled home how impossibly small you were
  212. >It's a horrific feeling; this new point of view shattering your confidence
  213. >You're tiny now, completely vulnerable
  214. >How on earth could you defend yourself against anything in this state?
  215. >"Here!"
  216. >The support beneath you suddenly disappears and you free fall onto a cushioned surface
  217. >"Everybody, meet Pan. Be nice."
  218. >And with those words, she turned on her heel and promptly left.
  219. >Wait, where was she going? She had to reverse this!
  220. "W-wait! Stop!" you call out, trying to leap after her
  221. >However, a fine fabric mesh blocks your way
  222. >What the hell was this, some kind of playpen?
  223. >How were you going to get out of this?
  224. >Desperate, you glance up to see if you could climb out of this pathetic prison
  225. >"Oh, I know what you're thinking, but I wouldn't do that if I were you."
  226. >A smooth voice speaks out from behind, startling you
  227. >Upon spinning around, you view the source,
  228. >2 other... 'food creatures' were staring in interest.
  229. >The one who'd addressed you was yellow, shiny and almost... wet?
  230. >"Hey. I'm Mantequilla. I'm a butter pony."
  231. >Your eyes go wide
  232. "A... what?!"
  233. >He smiles.
  234. >"Heh, yeah. I guess this is all scary and new for you, isn't it?" he says casually, his deep voice filling you with hint of calm
  235. >You nod, before firing up again
  236. "Can you help?! That woman, she dropped me in this dough and then... well, I just need to escape!"
  237. >"Sorry 'hon, but you're not goin' anywhere..."
  238. >The other food creature spoke up. Like Mantequilla, she was slightly yellow and dripping.
  239. >"My name is Raguroni, and yeah, I'm a cheesy pizza pony."
  240. >This was blowing your mind on so many levels
  241. "Ponies? Food? I just, what? I mean, huh?"
  242. >"Yeah... it takes a while to get to terms with."
  243.  
  244. -
  245.  
  246. >There's a drawn out silence, both 'ponies' looking at you
  247. >You don't have time for this
  248. "Look, sorry, I gotta go."
  249. >Turning your back to them, you try and hoist yourself up over the playpen wall
  250. >Unfortunately you're just a few inches too short to get a proper grip, even if you hop up
  251. >Defeat sapping your energy, you listlessly slide down the mesh wall
  252. >Mantequilla approaches you slowly
  253. >"So... are you a bread pony? Pan, was it?"
  254. >Catching his eye you quickly tilt your face down only to see your own brown stumpy arms
  255. "No, that's not my name." you say slowly, unsure if these creatures were 'all there' in the head
  256. >"Ah yes, of course. However, Pan is the name Cooking Mama assigned to you, yes?"
  257. >You choke audibility at the sound of this name
  258. "C-cooking Mama? What, like from that game?"
  259. >Mantequilla shrugs with a smile
  260. >"Well, she's never actually shared her real name, but she accepts that one. 'The Cook' was just too... ominous."
  261. >Raguroni and Mantequilla both share a look, cheeky smiles adorning their flavored faces
  262. >You assume it's an inside joke you don't get, but you don't care
  263. "Can one of you guys give me a boost? So I can get out of here?"
  264. >You nod your head in the direction of the playpen corner
  265. >At once, their smiles twist into frowns
  266. >"Ah, no, we can't. I'm sorry, Pan." Mantequilla apologizes, sounding sincere
  267. "How not? Sure you're... made of butter, but I just need to hop and lea-"
  268. >"We could do if we wanted to," Raguroni interrupts, "but, well, Cooking Mama doesn't take kind to disobedience."
  269. "What do you mean?" you ask, your curiosity peaked
  270. >Raguroni turns away, Mantequilla sighing
  271. >"Well, you're here now Pan. I guess I can show you. Follow."
  272. >He trots... well, more slips and slides to the opposite corner of the playpen
  273. >You immediately attempt to follow, but suddenly stumble and land flat on your face
  274. >It just occurs to you that you've never walked before in this form...
  275. >"Ya alright? Sheesh, it's lucky your body is so soft and light"
  276.  
  277. -
  278.  
  279. >Raguroni hovers above you
  280. >"Can ya manage? Walking IS hard at first."
  281. >Choosing to ignore her, you try pressing yourself up off the cushioned ground
  282. >"Plus, your body is basically filled with air - you are bread after all" Mantequilla adds, waiting for you in the other corner
  283. >Getting back onto all fours, you try coordinate yourself better.
  284. >The part of your brain that once associated weight with specific human limbs was now of no use
  285. >It was like gravity had grown weaker leaving you practically weightless
  286. >"Imagine crawling towards me using just your fingers and toes for balance. It's easy once it clicks."
  287. >As silly as this statement sounded, it actually made some small sense as you mentally mapped your limbs
  288. >"Mmm, did I ever tell you that you smell so fresh?" Raguroni sighed dreamily as you stand up
  289. "I, uh..." you stutter, feeling awkward
  290. >She laughs, giving you a quick noogie with a cheesy, greasy hoof
  291. >"Heh, I like you Pan. You're so lost it's cute."
  292. >If your mind wasn't currently dedicated to maintaining balance, you'd have argued
  293. >Slowly you make your way towards Mantequilla, coordinating one leg at a time
  294. >"Yes, that's it Pan. You don't need to be stiff, bend your legs"
  295. >Biting your lip in concentration you discover another horror - your lip is crusty to the touch
  296. >Is your skin made entirely of bread crust?
  297. >"You made it. Well done." Mantequilla beams, his deep voice filling you with slight confidence
  298. "It's not so hard. Thanks for the fingers and toes tip. Now, what are you showing me?" you ask, looking about
  299. >Raguroni turns away again, Mantequilla's face falling slightly
  300. >"Ah, yes. That."
  301. >He points a silky, creamy hoof at a shard of glass
  302. >Interested, you shuffle closer
  303. "This glass?"
  304. >Mantequilla nods, his face crumpling
  305. >You look again
  306. >Well, it was certainly a shard of glass
  307. "What's so special about it?" you question, pressing a spongy bread hoof onto it
  308. "That's the remains of a pony who crossed Cooking Mama. That's what remains of Fizz."
  309.  
  310. -
  311.  
  312. "Fizz?" you repeat, heart sinking
  313. >"Yes, Fizz. As you've probably guessed, she was a Cola pony."
  314. >Eyes growing wide, you quickly retract your hoof from the glass
  315. >"She arrived here just like the rest of us. And like you, she too was obsessed with escape."
  316. >A chill runs up your spine
  317. "She was made out of glass?! What happened? Did she accidentally slip on exit?"
  318. >In the background Raguroni curls up, Mantequilla casting a quick glance at her
  319. >"No, no unfortunately it wasn't that... accidental."
  320. "Then how...?"
  321. "Cooking Mama. Once Fizz has tried her patience, she simply scooped her up, drank forcefully from Fizz's mouth, and once done..."
  322. >Mantequilla nods his head at the wall through the mesh, and you quickly peek
  323. >An area of wall was damaged; dented with scratches that could have only been caused by tiny, sharp fragments
  324. "Oh... oh god, I'm so sorry."
  325. >You're at a loss for words at this unsettling story
  326. >Mantequilla smiles again, though it's forced
  327. >"It's alright. Fizz arrived with Raguroni, I was already here. That shard was placed there by Cooking Mama acting as a reminder."
  328. >Raguroni curls up tighter, apparently sucking her own cheesy tail
  329. >"It's in your best interest to stay, Pan. You are free to leave, but well, I can't imagine you'd want to be a sandwich."
  330. >"Or toast." Raguroni adds
  331. >"Or dippy soilders."
  332. >"Or bread sauce."
  333. >"Or-"
  334. "Okay, okay, I get the point" you scowl
  335. >Another question that'd been plaguing you bursts forth:
  336. "Why are you guys so... chill about this?"
  337. >Mantequilla smiles again as he lies next to Raguroni
  338. >"We've been here for months. Trust me, we were just like you and Fizz when we arrived."
  339. >Raguroni snuggles into Mantequilla, the cloth below them stained with grease
  340. >"But eventually, you adapt. You forget about how life was because this is now how life is. It's weird."
  341. >Edging closer, you take care to avoid any greasy spots
  342. >"Besides, we need Cooking Mama to live," Raguroni speaks up, "As you know, food expires. So do we."
  343.  
  344. -
  345.  
  346. "What do you mean?" comes your blank reply
  347. >"We're all perishable now. A set time limit. For example, butter probably lasts at most 2 weeks before it spoils. Pizza? A week, if you're lucky. Bread..."
  348. >Mantequilla glances at Raguroni, both sharing a concerned look
  349. >"...Maybe a couple of days?"
  350. "So I'm gonna die in a few days" you state flatly
  351. >You rub your face with a hoof, mulling this over
  352. "But Mantequilla... you said you've been here for months, and yet you still look fresh to me."
  353. >He smiles, still snuggling with Raguroni
  354. >"Yup, you didn't let me finish." Raguroni continues, "It's thanks to Cooking Mama that we live beyond our expiry dates. She has special ingredients that keep us fresh. If we were to leave her protection, though..."
  355. >Horrific mental images surface of mold-infested bread being devoured by mice
  356. "So if we leave we'll... expire? Like, I'll become stale and moldy?"
  357. >Mantequilla nods
  358. >Raguroni, apparently sensing your distress, gives you a sympathetic look
  359. >"You'll get used to it soon enough, 'hon."
  360. >All things considered, you didn't believe her
  361. >There's a renewed silence as Mantequilla and Raguroni continue their snuggling
  362. "What's next then? Is this it? Is this playpen now my life?"
  363. >Staring around wildly, you can't fathom staying in this pathetic prison for the rest of your days
  364. >"No, not quite. This playpen is essentially a form of limbo. It's where Cooking Mama evaluates if you're worthy to live in the Pantry."
  365. "The Pantry?" you repeat
  366. >Both ponies nod
  367. >"Yes. That's where all the other food ponies live. It's the best outcome for anyone in our situation."
  368. "I guess all new ponies visit the playpen first then. But what about you guys? I thought you'd been here months?"
  369. >Raguroni shuts her eyes, resting her head on Mantequilla
  370. "Can't we continue question time later, 'hon? We're tired."
  371. >It was becoming clear that your endless barrage of inquiries was upsetting Raguroni
  372. >Mantequilla chuckles with his smooth, deep voice
  373.  
  374. -
  375.  
  376. >"I don't mind answering, Pan. We both got expelled from the Pantry a few days back. My fault."
  377. "What did you do?"
  378. >He chuckles again
  379. >"Sorry Pan, but I'm not one to kiss and tell."
  380. >Raguroni's face was hidden, but you're sure her pepperoni cheeks were glowing
  381. "Ah, ah I see." you awkwardly mumble, more to yourself than to Mantequilla
  382. >Keeping your distance but staying within ear-shot, you curl up on the slightly soggy bedding
  383. >There was just so much information to process at the moment
  384. >Hell, about 2 hours ago you were a perfectly happy human
  385. >Now? You were a very distressed pony made from bread
  386. >Bread...
  387. >Glancing at the others to make sure they weren't watching, you sniff your foreleg
  388. >The fluffy aroma of beautifully baked bread meets your nostrils, and you can't help salivating a little
  389. >Oh god, how was this going to work out? What if you got hungry and ate yourself? Hell, what's to stop others eating you?
  390. >Taking advantage of the silent moment, you examine yourself fully
  391. >Your legs and body were covered in a light brown crust, slightly dusted with flour
  392. >Your hair, or mane, was light white bread
  393. >The shape of your face and body were completely different to your previous form, both smaller and differently proportioned
  394. >Everything is so alien
  395. >As you prod and poke yourself, a dull itch that'd been subdued by stress resurfaced
  396. >What had Cooking Mama said again?
  397. >Actually... what's down there now?
  398. >"Hey Pan, you alright?"
  399. >Mantequilla, who'd been silently dozing next to Raguroni, was watching you with one eye
  400. "Uh, yeah."
  401. >Feeling embarrassed he'd caught you trying to see up your own butt you decide to sit, pressing your rear into the ground
  402. >"Are you sure? You're looking a little bit like a dog with worms."
  403. >He wasn't far off, you were very tempted to scoot off on your ass to try rub out the itch
  404. "Yeah, I'm find... Just itchy." you mumble
  405. >He smiles, raising up on all fours and stretching
  406. >"Want me to have a look?"
  407.  
  408. -
  409.  
  410. "I, uh..." you stammer, unsure how to defuse this awkward situation
  411. >"It's not uncommon for our yeast-based ponies to have occasional problems down there. Raguroni could probably tell you all about it."
  412. >Mantequilla comes within arm's length, eyeing you up slowly
  413. "Why would Raguroni know?" you ask, discomfort mounting
  414. >"Never had pizza before? There's a base under that layer of cheese and sauce. You don't see it, but it exists"
  415. "How do you know?" you ask, but Mantequilla misses your question while he sniffs the air
  416. >"Mmh, I'll tell you one thing Pan, you smell damn fine."
  417. "T-thanks, you too." you stammer, realizing you'd just backed into the wall of the playpen
  418. >"No need to worry about being modest, you can show me the area that's itching if it's bothering you"
  419. >Your heart - or bread equivalent - was thumping
  420. >Sure, Mantequilla seemed harmless as his deep voice hugged your ears, but...
  421. "Are... do you really want to examine my butt?"
  422. >It's a line you thought you'd never say, but the itch had now grown into a full-on burn
  423. >He smiles again
  424. >"We're all in this together, might as well help each other out too."
  425. >You suppose that makes sense - if you're all in the same boat, what did you have to hide?
  426. "Well, okay then"
  427. >Slowly, you trot in a circle until your face was opposite the playpen mesh
  428. "See anything unusual?" you ask breathlessly as you feel the ghost of your toes curling
  429. >"Not from this angle. Perhaps, could you bend your forelegs down and raise your tail for me?"
  430. "Raise my tail...?"
  431. >It takes a few seconds to process that you had a tail now
  432. "How'd I do to that?"
  433. >Mantequilla looks thoughtful for a moment
  434. >"Try... tracking your spine. Imagine it flowing from your neck down to the base, where the human tail bone is. Just above the rump, try and feel your dock."
  435. >Closing your eyes, you mentally follow your spine...
  436. "There?" you call out
  437. >"Well done, Pan." Mantequilla praises
  438. "See any-" you start, but stop as something slimly touches your nether region
  439.  
  440. -
  441.  
  442. >You lurch forward, jamming your face into the rough playpen mesh
  443. "W-w-what the fuck, man!" you hiss, doing a 180 in time to see Mantequilla pulling a confused look
  444. >"Oh sorry Pan, have I misinterpreted what you wanted?" he asks calmly with a slippery hoof still hovering in the air
  445. >With small steps you shuffle back in to the mesh, sizing him up
  446. "I said you could LOOK, didn't mention any touching!" you stammer, face burning up in total embarrassment
  447. >"Ah, I see. My apologies, Pan. How disrespectful and indignant of me."
  448. >Mantequilla lowers his hoof and takes a sitting stance, looking pained
  449. >There's an awkward silence as you remain on the defensive
  450. >What the hell?
  451. >You're not entirely sure how to react to this situation
  452. >Though you do know you're glad Raguroni wasn't awake to witness it
  453. >There's little movement as both parties recover
  454. >You glance at Mantequilla who'd not moved or opened his eyes in some time
  455. >Guilt starts to flood over you, perhaps he really did misinterpret?
  456. "Uh, i-it's okay man. I guess it's my fault for not being clear" you mutter, breaking the silence
  457. >He moves his head and opens his eyes at your words, a small smile growing on his face
  458. >"No need for you to apologize here. I'm at fault."
  459. >Slowly he gets up, and trots over
  460. >"But you can't fault me for mistaking the signs..."
  461. >He moves within arm's reach
  462. >"...cause you know what they say..."
  463. >Suddenly Mantequilla is nose-to-nose with you
  464. >"...nothing goes better together than bread and butter."
  465. >"What are you two doing?"
  466. >Raguroni had awoken, her voice thick as she spoke through a yawn
  467. >Mantequilla stares right into your eyes unblinkingly as he responds
  468. >"Oh nothing, Ragu. Just explaining how it's almost time for our pearls."
  469. >The smile etched on Mantequilla's lips remained as prominent as ever as he finally broke eye contact
  470.  
  471. -
  472.  
  473. >You stand there dazed - what just happened?
  474. >"Oh yeah, you're right. It must nearly be pearl time."
  475. >Raguroni springs up and stretches her cheesy body out
  476. >"I can definitely feel myself drying out, I need a boost."
  477. >You remain still as both ponies sit up in the middle of the pen.
  478. "You coming over too, 'hon?" Raguroni asks, jerking her head to the space on her right
  479. >As dubious as 'pearl time' sounded, you decide to take up the offer
  480. >You tentatively trot over giving Mantequilla a wide berth
  481. "What's pear-" you begin to ask, cutting off at the sound of large footsteps
  482. >"Right, you little shits."
  483. >Cooking Mama marches into view, now a colossal giant
  484. >Mantequilla and Raguroni sit up straight, their eyes fixated on the bitch who did all this to you
  485. >"Mantequilla."
  486. >He trots forward coolly, seemingly used to this ritual
  487. >There's no sign of alarm as Cooking Mama grabs him by the neck and pops a small, white sphere into his mouth
  488. >He simply swallows, and returns to where he was
  489. >"Ragu."
  490. >Raguroni moves forward, suddenly being scooped up into the air
  491. >Swiftly Cooking Mama pops a same-styled white ball into Ragu's mouth
  492. >"I've got some good news for you, you greasy slut. You're going back to the Pantry today."
  493. >At once Ragurono's ears perked up
  494. >"Really?! Oh, thank you!"
  495. >Apparently this was good news as Raguroni squealed with delight.
  496. >There's a pause as you stare up at your captor
  497. >Perhaps you should trot forward and get a pearl too?
  498. >"And what do you want?" Cooking Mama scowls as you make your move
  499. >"You're still freshly baked you greedy wee shit, you don't need regenerated. And you certainly aren't going to the Pantry any time soon either."
  500. >Well, that backfired
  501. >You silently trot back to your spot, watching as Raguroni is taken away through a door
  502. >How long were you going to be kept in this stupid prison?
  503. >"Looks like it's just us now, Pan." comes a familiar, smooth voice.
  504. >Mantequilla smiles at you
  505.  
  506. -
  507.  
  508. >>21567552
  509. >Silence descends over the scene like a veil
  510. >You stay rooted to the spot as Mantequilla's grin dazzles you
  511. >Shit. What happens next?
  512. >A shiver runs down your bread stick of a spine as your playpen mate speaks up
  513. >"Well, looks like it's just us now" he sighs, lying down on the stained bedding
  514. >Choosing not to reply, you turn around and start thinking about escape again
  515. >Okay, so this enclosure is too high for you to jump out of...
  516. >You run a soft hoof against the mesh that made up the walls
  517. >No... it's too strong. If you tried to rip your way out you'd probably grate your limbs off
  518. >Could you use your weight to tip the pen over?
  519. >Taking a few cautious steps backwards you swiftly break into a canter
  520. >The playpen might as well have been part of the building's integrity as you simply bounce off
  521. >How light were you? Definitely less than 1kg, that's for sure
  522. >Brain buzzing, you try think of another scheme to escape
  523. >Dig your way out? No... the floor underneath the bedding is solid
  524. >Run your fastest and scale the mesh? No... not enough grip in your squishy hooves
  525. >The last resort solution was slowly dawning on you
  526. >"Having fun?" Mantequilla chuckles, apparently observing you with interest
  527. >Should you ask him to boost you out?
  528. >Yes - you were getting panicky and desperate now
  529. "Do you think-" you start, but are interrupted by a bell
  530. >Was that a cooking timer?
  531. >"Lights out in 5. That's what that bell means, if you were wondering."
  532. >You quickly glance around for any windows or views to outside, but there weren't any
  533. "So... what time does that translate to?" you ask, breaking your silence, "When I last saw a clock it was around 9pm..."
  534. >Your heart sinks as you just realize that your favorite watch was now gone
  535. >"Lights out at 11:30pm on weekends. 10:30pm on weekdays."
  536. "There's a curfew? This really is prison."
  537. >Mantequilla shrugs, flicking his buttery tail indifferently
  538. >"It's better than paying a mortgage."
  539.  
  540. -
  541.  
  542. >With your cell mate looking like he was settling down for the night, you decide it was now or never
  543. "Hey, Mantequilla, can you boost me out?"
  544. >There's a slight ring in your ears as he casts a knowing look
  545. >"Still wanting to escape, Pan? While I understand your immediate concern, do you fully understand what you lose by leaving?"
  546. >His voice was as calm and soothing as ever, but you swore there was the tiniest hint of skepticism
  547. >You fully understand the risk - if you leave, you will eventually expire
  548. >But surely that's a better alternative to just sitting around doing nothing and accepting this crazy shit show?
  549. >"I respect that you have reasons for wanting to leave. What brought you to this facility in the first place?" Mantequilla asks politely
  550. >That was a question you wanted to avoid
  551. "You first" you snipe
  552. >Mantequilla grins at your suspicious response, but looks thoughtful
  553. >"It's... petty, really. Such I fool I was. Money makes a fool out of us all, I suppose."
  554. >He slicks his smooth, runny mane before continuing
  555. >"If you must know, I was fuel hunting. Using Google maps, I determined that this facility had isolated fuel canisters just abandoned carelessly in the back lot."
  556. >You raise a crusty, curious eyebrow
  557. >"So... I came along in my truck at night, intended to jump the fence and take the reserves I'd seen from the satellite images, when..."
  558. >Mantequilla lowers his head as if giving a graceful little bow
  559. "How'd you get caught?" you ask
  560. >"Heh, I didn't take into account an electric fence. Must have tripped some alarm because when I came to I'd been found. Bitter end to my pathetic heist."
  561. "How'd... how'd you get turned?" you mumble, not sure if this was an offensive question
  562. >"Funny you should ask. Basically, I got thrown into this vat of melted butter. Before I came to terms of what was happening, I was sealed in... and churned."
  563. "Just like that?"
  564. >"Just like that. I lost myself briefly, and when I returned..."
  565. >He raises a yellow leg looking sheepish
  566.  
  567. -
  568.  
  569. >You gulp - did each food pony have a similar, horrific tale?
  570. >"And you?" Mantequilla asks, seemingly intrigued
  571. >You briefly explain being lowered into a vat of dough, then going through the industrial oven
  572. >"Ah, that's similar to Raguroni's story. I guess that explains your ear."
  573. "My ear?"
  574. >Your wandering hoof tries to feel the ears situated on top of your head
  575. >"Yes. Forgive me, I just noticed that one is slightly... well, they're not symmetrical. Not that it matters in the slightest, however..."
  576. >Is it really that noticeable? Last thing you need now is to feel self-conscious
  577. >What if the other ponies laugh?
  578. >No, that doesn't matter. You won't be seeing any more ponies.
  579. >Mentally slapping yourself, you clear your throat
  580. "Okay, enough chit-chat. I'm out of here. Give me a boost?"
  581. >Feeling more relaxed around Mantequilla since his origin story, you approach the side of the playpen Cooking Mama had stood
  582. "Please?" you add as your fellow pony stares at you blankly
  583. >"Are you really sure, Pan? The lights are about to go out any minute, and if you get caught..."
  584. >Deep down you completely understood how irrational you were acting, but you just couldn't wait around while your chest filled with rage
  585. >It was like standing on hot coals, you HAD to keep moving
  586. >Opening your mouth to give the order, a distant, loud clunk echos through the building
  587. >Next thing you know, total darkness
  588. >"Sorry Pan, looks like we're too late." Mantequilla apologizes
  589. "This is lights out? I can't see anything at all!" you speak up, frustrated
  590. >"Shhh there, if you're heard out of hours..."
  591. "This is such fuckin' shit!" you flare up
  592. >Taking advantage of the darkness you have a little stompy temper tantrum
  593. >Everything about this was so unfair!
  594. >In fact, you could feel bitter tears forming in your pathetic little eyes
  595. >"Pan? Pan! Are you okay? Calm." Mantequilla calls out, the rumble of his voice somehow magnified by the dark
  596. "Calm? Calm?! I'll tell you exactly why I can't be calm."
  597.  
  598. -
  599.  
  600. >Mantequilla went still, though you could practically feel his gaze burning a hole through the dark
  601. >You decide to tell him the full truth, the reason why you were so desperate to get back to reality
  602. "I've kinda got a time limit." you start, not sure how to begin.
  603. >"Oh but of course, we all do. Didn't we discuss that earlier?"
  604. "No, ignore this stupid insanity. I'm talking about out there, in real life"
  605. >You jerk your head towards the door despite it being pitch black
  606. >"Well technically we're still in real life Pan, but go on. How do you have a time limit?"
  607. >A knot forms in your chest as you try find the best way to word this
  608. "Let's start at why I came to this living-nightmare of a facility. I was looking for a phone."
  609. >As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dark you saw that Mantequilla had laid down, both hooves crossed
  610. >"A phone? Forgive me, but that's a pretty odd reason. Especially considering we're in the middle of no-where."
  611.  
  612. ...And then that's all I wrote because of FUCKING VIDEO GAMES. Seriously, fuck those fucking things. Make you feel productive when you've accomplished fuck all. Waste of life, yet so enjoyable.
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