World War P
It's was called many names: The War, The Walking Pinkie, or new and hip ones like World War P or Pinkie War One. I personally dislike the last one since it implies a second war. To me it will be The Pinkie War, but many people argue over the name Pinkie. It's debated who or what she was. Still the word Pinkie brings back so many horrible emotions and memories, which is the subject of this book.
This record of the greatest conflict of equine history was born from a small argument between me and the Equestrian chairs person of defense. It was put on my hooves to document the war. After talking with several survivors from Ponyville to the Crystal Empire, I had finally handed in the report. The response wasn't to positive.
"It's too emotional," she told me.
"But emotions," I said to her, "are what connected us." Me and her argued over the report for an hour until she finally told me, "Why don't you write your own book on it then. You have all the clearance to do so." So I decided to do so. I felt it must be done to inform the future generations on what really happen on the war against the Pink threat.
(I sat down with Nurse Redheart, a nurse at Ponyville hospital who was called to check out a somepony who supposedly had rabies. She thought it was going to be another house call, but it was far from it.)
Me: So what happened when you got to the house?
Nurse Redheart: I knocked on the door. A mare, I guess the child's mother came to the door crying. I asked her what was wrong. She continued to sob. A colt, I guess the father, who looked like he had been crying, but held his tears directed me upstairs.
Me: What was upstairs?
Nurse Redheart: He lead me to they boys room. He said he son was acting wild and wanted to party. I started to laugh thinking this was a prank but as I went to open the door the son ram against it and started to yell something. It sounded like he said he wanted to party.
"He has been doing that for hours," the colt said. I wasn't sure of what to do so I decide to call some other doctors to see if they could help, but as I was halfway down the staircase the young colt broke through the door. He stood there for a second with his face down on the floor. He then picked it up and started to yell, "Who wants to PARTY!" I started to laugh. I thought it was ridiculous. I was wrong. The boy then jumped down the staircase and tried to party with the mare. She tried to run from it but he caught up with it. I thought it was a joke, but I then realized it wasn't. After she quickly partied with her, the mother fell to the floor and laid down on the floor. I went to see if she was okay but then she looked up at me. Her mane was unkept and her coat was pink. I was getting disturbed now. I ran to the door with the colt, but for some reason it was locked and we could open it. Just as the two were about to close in on us, several poines with biohazard suits, who I think were ECD (Equestrian Contamination Department) broke through the windows and sedated the two now pink ponies. After that they told us that they would take us in for questioning. We didn't realized what we had been apart of that night.