The Art of Baking with Friends, Thursday

[locointhecoco]

Pinkie was scribbling notes on the board when the students came in for class, today. It was a list of rules. New students might be surprised to see a pink pony writing on a chalkboard. Old students might, too, actually, seeing as Pinkie didn't have fingers. She had some fine manual (hoofual?) dexterity despite all that, though.

It was sort of the mystery for the ages, kids.

"Welcome to class," Derek said, keeping an eye on the rules more than the students. In case she tried to slip something in there. "My name is Derek and this is--"

"AND I'M PINKIE PIE!" Pinkie cried a beat too late.

The list of rules on the board so far were:
Glitter is not for eating (except in this class!)
Earthworms are not baking ingredients (unless that's your thing)
Allergies are not imaginary (please let us know if your throat is closing up)
Derek is for tickling (he's going to yell at me now)

"I am not for--" Derek took a deep breath to calm himself. "Ignore half of what she says. Other than the allergies."

Pinkie beamed. "It's the first week, and you know what that means?"

Did it mean a party? Pinkie thought most things meant "party". Her cannon is probably loaded up with glitter as we speak.

"It doesn't mean a party," Derek said quickly. But the glitter canon was already loaded and armed. There was no escaping this one.

"INTRODUCTION PARTY!" Pinkie declared, and fired off a cannon shot full of glitter upon the room. Edible glitter. It's made of sugar, kids. It'll wash off. OR YOU CAN LICK IT OFF YOUR FRIENDS.

Aren't you glad you're in this class? Aren't you?

Derek sighed, just letting the glitter fall. "Name, class, favorite baked thing," he ground out.

"Also," Pinkie said, unrepentant. "We have cookies."