Chapter 1: Greetings from a New Friend
Chapter 1: Greetings from a New Friend
You know, my life never was the same after that one fateful Saturday night…
That one night was a night of many wonders that still boggle my mind when I think of them. Where to begin, where to begin? Well, I guess I can begin with some introductions.
My name is Alex, but if you want a last name, too bad, I’m not giving. I’ve already got enough on my mind with the whole magical encounter deal-ee-o, so giving out my full identity to the public would just really hurt my social status. I’m only writing this because… she told me to. Now, where was I…?
Oh yeah, I live in a small town by the name of… well, that doesn't really matter. Actually, it isn’t so much of a small town as it is a small community. Very few people live here, probably being because the high amount of contaminants in the air due to the many factories that surround the area. Nevertheless, it’s a very rural area.
I myself live in a pretty old house in a small neighborhood. My family has been living here for generations, and since I really have no big excess in money, I have no plans of moving out. Which is fine by me, since I just can’t tear myself away from this place anyways.
You see, my parents died when I was just a kid. I inherited all of their belongings (including the house and everything in it), and I’ve been here all alone ever since.
I’m not saying this for you to feel sorry for me, though. I’ve mostly gotten over it, and I’ve grown accustom to living by myself with absolutely no relatives to keep me company. In fact, I think it sort of helped me give myself an identity. I was a person just making enough to get by each day, just like all the rest of the people in my community. I was a man, even if I did feel sad remembering about the days where I didn’t have to worry about those things.
But hey, that can’t help me. I think Timone and Pumba had it right in that one Disney movie when they told Simba to forget his past and just move on. What was the phrase again, Hukana Matato? I don’t know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen that movie.
Sorry, I know I’m getting off-topic. I’ll try to minimize that.
Anyways, as you can tell, I haven’t led the most happiest life in the world. I think my best nights are just me sitting at my old computer desktop, looking up funny pictures of cats. Life, to me, is a schedule. Go through that schedule each day, and you'll have no problems in the future.
I follow a standard routine: wake up, walk to work, work, walk to my home, go to sleep. Of course, there are some variables that could change this monotonous schedule sometimes, but this is how it is for most of the week. Except on the weekends, where I don’t work. These days are bum-days, where I’m either watching television through a very old TV set, or surfing the internet for more randomness. I don’t have any friends really, except for those people I often see at bars whenever I’m in the mood to waste all my money. Those guys are pretty cool, even if I don’t know any of their names.
I think by now, after all of these years of walking the same path to and from work, I had grown accustomed to the countless alleys and side-streets between the boring brick buildings. Every day, I walked past them and never gave them a second glance. Until that one Saturday…
That day… I remember being really bummed out that day. It was another one of those grief attacks that I get sometimes where I just can’t stop thinking of mow much my life sucked. It happens very infrequently, so when it does, it usually just ruins my day. No amount of reminding myself it was all behind me by that point did anything to stop the aching in my heart.
It was that day that I decided to go for a walk. I quickly threw on an old sweater (as it was pretty chilly outside) and went downstairs. After locking the door to my house, I walked down the street, not really thinking about where I was going. All that was on my mind was trying to get the pain to go away.
It did stop eventually, and I sighed in relief before realizing where I was, walking down one of the more empty parts of town. The street I was going down was littered with abandoned warehouses, all looking so desolate next to one another. Out in the moonlight, it was a sad sight to say the least.
But then, I heard the noise. Rustling. Moving objects. A small squeal, the kind you hear when a rusty door opens. I quickly turned my eyes away from the sorry buildings towards the direction of the noises. It was coming from the alley-way.
To say the least, I got curious. I had kept clear away from these dark spaces before; I was not taking any chances after listening to people’s experiences of getting mugged in other alleys. But that was put to the side for a moment as I entered the alley.
It was, as you would expect, littered with junk. Old tires, broken knick-knacks, used cigarettes, you name it. A couple of big dumpsters took up some space directly in front of me. Other than that, the alley was empty.
Confused, I turned to walk out when I heard the noise again. Turning swiftly, I saw one of the dumpster lids close suddenly. Did that mean that someone… or something was in the dumpster? I needed to answer this question.
But as I make my way towards the dumpster, I hesitate. Why do I care so much about this strange noise? Is it really my business? It could just be some stray cat or dog that’s randomly rummaging through trash? Why should I care?
No, I can’t think that, I thought to myself. What if somebody saw me in my miserable state and thought that very same thing?
I shook my head and made my way towards the dumpster. The noises stopped suddenly as I approached, almost as if it was aware of my presence.
“Hello?” I asked cautiously. No response was given, which I expected, as I had no idea if the thing I was talking to was even human. But I had to try and communicate. “Is anybody there?” I continued.
Still no answer. I was beginning to think that this was just a waste of my time. But at that time, I was already at the dumpster. Might as well look inside, right?
I raised my arm to grab hold of the lid. Slowly and cautiously, I raised the dumpster lid and peeked inside to see what had caused my attention.
Nothing but trash.
Now that really confused me. I did a double-take and looked again once again, only to see the same empty dumpster. I could’ve sworn that something had moved inside this very trash can. What had gotten my attention then…?
“Hey there!”
A voice from behind brought me to my senses. Startled, I turned around… and froze like a deer caught in headlights. For before me stood something that never in a million years I would’ve guessed I would see.
It was a horse. A freaking pink horse. And it was smiling at me.
I think my body just sort of stopped working as my brain tried to process what exactly I was looking at.
As I said before, it was a horse, but it was unlike any horse I had ever seen before. First of all, it wasn’t much taller than a large dog, maybe standing at about three feet. From that, I guessed that it probably wasn’t a horse. Maybe more of a… pony? Yeah, a pony. That’s what it was.
Still, there was a lot more to notice. First off, it was entirely pink, everything from its fur to her tail. Even its mane, which was more human-like than pony-like. The mane was big and puffy, as was its tail. And it’s face… wait, ponies aren’t supposed to have faces, they have snouts. Well, all of them but this one, whose snout Everything about its face screamed girly, from its huge blue eyes to its petite little snout to its impossibly wide smile. Oh god, that smile was the stuff of nightmares. It wasn’t exactly a mean smile, it was just so big. The pony just radiated happiness.
“How ya doing?” she asked, its voice also emanating pure happiness. Wait a minute, did that animal just speak? I would’ve asked it that question, but by that time, the pony had extended out its… hoof towards me, as if it wanted me to shake it. “My name’s Pinkie Pie, and I’m extra glad to meet you!”
My mind was still whirring and spinning, but not enough for me to forget my manners. I grabbed a hold of the pony’s hoof and shook it. God, this felt weird. I mean, I was shaking hands with a freaking pony!
We finished the shake and just stood for a moment, looking at each other. I was still in mental shock just staring at the thing, and it stood with her four legs smiling back at me. Suddenly, it got a very confused look on its face, its smile turning into a slight frown. The thing studied me for a bit and then began to speak again.
“Well?”
It took me a while to figure out what she said. “W-w-what?”
“I’m waiting,” she told me, almost aggravated. I could now tell from the voice that she was a female.
“…for what?”
“Are you kidding me?” she said with annoyance in her voice, “I just introduced myself, and you’re just going to stand there and stare? Jeez-louise, you’re a rude one.” She was clearly flabbergasted about my actions, which to me seemed pretty reasonable considering I was having a conversation with an animal.
“O-oh, I’m sorry,” I managed to spit out, “My n-name is Alex.”
She seemed satisfied by this answer and began smiling once again. “Nice to meet you, Alex. Hehe, Alex, that’s a pretty funny name.” She started giggling uncontrollably.
Yeah, pretty weird compared to Pinkie Pie, I thought to myself.
“Then again, this whole place is really weird,” she said, looking around the alleyway, “I don’t even remember how I got to this place. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember where I came from before this morning. But it definitely wasn’t here, that’s for sure.” At this point, she seemed to be talking more to herself than to me. “Everywhere I go, it’s just empty. I haven’t seen anypony around except for you, and you’re not even a pony. That’s made me really sad the whole day. And there’s no food anywhere around here, either. I tried looking in these big box thingies, but they just have trash in them. Not even good tasting trash, either…”
And she went on and on, talking about the weather and cement and somehow ended up talking about apple cider. She clearly knew how to keep a conversation going all by herself, even if none of it made any sense whatsoever. To me, most of what she said went in one ear and out the other.
She was just done talking about how she would love to see a rainbow sometime soon when she was interrupted by a loud growl. She looked down at her stomach area and the growl emanated from it again, even more loudly than the first time. Suddenly, her appearance changed. Her mane and tail became more flat and streamlined, and she no longer burst with color and energy. It was almost as if somebody had let all of the air out of a balloon. The pony before me changed from a never-ending ball of sunshine into a depressed sack of air. It was the most saddest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I couldn’t take it!
Slowly, I bent down next to her and began talking.
“Ugghh, Pinkie Pie?” I asked, trying to sound as nice as possible to the depressed pony. She looked up at me with her sad blue eyes, and I noticed they were getting teary. “If I offered you some food, would you feel better?”
Her eyes now reflected confusion as she sniffled, “Would you do that for me?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know what I was getting into at that moment, but I knew one thing for sure: If I didn’t offer this poor animal some help, then nobody else would. So I said three words that changed my life forever
“Yes, I would.”
Suddenly, she shifted once again. Her mane and tail presumed their puffiness and she grew more radiant. Her frown returned to its original smile. “Oohhh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she exclaimed, and with that, she lunged towards me, embracing me in a hug, her hooves wrapping around my form as she rested her head on my shoulder. I was shocked by this act of gratefulness, but slowly, I returned the act and squeezed her as well. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
After that moment of sentiment, I stood up as the pony began walking past me and towards the entrance. “Well, what are we waiting for, you slowpoke? C’mon, your house is awaiting!”
Dear God, I once again thought, what am I getting myself into here?
When I got home, I had learned one more interesting fact about my strange visitor: she could run… fast! Well, then again, she does have four legs and powerful buck legs, so it was no wonder that she was about fifteen paces ahead of me on the run home.
When I got to my front door, there she was patiently waiting, not even out of breath. I had a quick breather at the stairs leading up to my house before a thought popped into my mind.
“Wait a minute. How did you know this was my house?”
She thought about it for a second, then burst into laughter, saying, “I don’t know. It was a hunch.”
Puzzled, I pulled out my keys and began unlocked the door. Pinkie immediately bounced on in, which I hadn’t noticed her doing until now. Maybe she’s just really happy?
I turned on the lights and gave a quick inspection to see if anybody had broken in. The house looked just fine. In fact, it looked the same as it had always been: a large living room with three doors connecting to the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom.
Pinkie was walking in and out of the doors, giving herself a little tour of the house. Judging by her many ooh’s and aah’s, she was quite impressed.
“Hey Pinkie,” I started, trying to make the situation a little less uncomfortable for me, “Would you like to turn on the TV while a fetch you some grub?” She glanced at me, a confused look on her face. “…I mean, while I get you some food?”
“Oh ok!” she said enthusiastically. She walked towards the television and looked it over. “Wait, what’s a TV?”
“Well,” I began, trying to come up with the words to explain it. You don’t get asked a question like this every day. “It’s basically a machine that can project shows on the screen, and you can watch the shows while you sit on the couch. Here’s the remote.” I handed it to her and she took it, which I thought was odd, since she had no fingers to grip it with. She went over the large couch and jumped on it, laying her rump down with her front two legs supporting her, the way dogs sit down.
Instantly, she was befuddled. She pressed buttons on the remote to make something happen, and when nothing happened with the TV, she became more frustrated and began pressing them more fiercely. It was pretty funny.
Finally, I said, “You have to hit the power button first, Pinkie.”
“Ohhhhhh,” she said, and hit the big red button at the top of the remote. The television turned on, and began playing some random episode of Spongbob Squareants (So what I was watching that show earlier? A man can have some nostalgic memories, can’t he?) Instantly, her eyes grew wide with fear at first, but then she grew interested. She leapt off the sofa and sat directly in front of the tube, staring at it so intently that I don’t think I could pull her away from it. I would’ve commented on that being bad for her eyesight, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I just went into the kitchen.
My kitchen wasn’t anything special, though unfortunately, there wasn’t a whole lot it had to offer. Most of my meals were frozen TV dinner plates, and the few things else in my refrigerator were some fruits and drinks. I looked around in my cabinet and found a bag of chocolate-chip cookies. Sighing, I got them down and poured some on a plate, with a fresh glass of milk. It might not have been the most gourmet meal in the world, but it was admittedly all I had to offer.
I brought the plate and glass out to the living room, where I found Pinkie in the exact same position she was in before. She now seemed to be genuinely enjoying the cartoon, giggling at the silly humor the show had to offer. I quietly sat down on the forgotten sofa and set the food items down beside me so that I could also watch the episode.
It was actually pretty funny, and boy did Pinkie like it. She was laughing along with the characters on screen and commenting on everything they said. She was so into it, that I began wondering. What creature sat before me? Yeah, I know, I’ve had thirty minutes to think about it and only then was I giving it some thought, but honestly, that pony was just so energetic that I had no time to think. She was like a giant whirlwind that took people along with it, no questions asked or even needed. It just happened.
But now that her attention was elsewhere, I began to wonder. What is she? Who is she? To my surprise, a thought popped into my mind. It was the craziest thing ever, but I think I’ve seen her before…
Before I could give the matter anymore thought though, Pinkie began laughing like a maniac, probably from some funny joke made by Patrick. She was laughing so hard that she was literally rolling all over the floor, holding her chest as she cracked up. And hey, I just could not help it; I began laughing as well, and just like that, I was on the floor too, holding my chest because my laughing hurt so much. We were in a simultaneous joy ride.
The funny thing is, just as we were about to quiet down, Spongebob belted out one of his signature laughs on screen. Pinkie and I both looked at each other and began cracking up once again, and so the ROFLing continued, this time with our good friend Spongebob.
Let me tell you, that was an experience. For the first time in a long while, I felt… well, joy. I felt genuinely happy, and I wanted to keep on being happy. Something about that pony made me feel much better about myself.
After about a good ten minutes of that nonsense though, we eventually calmed down. Both of us lay on the floor catching some breath as the cartoon scrolled down the end credits. I glanced up at the forgotten cookies and stood up, dusting myself. “Hey, we forgot the cookies.”
In an instant, Pinkie was up as well, with a twinkle in her eye, “Cookies?!” She looked over at the plate and instantly dived for it, grabbing two cookies with her front hooves bagn stuffing them into her mouth. She must have been starving, I thought to myself, as the cookies that had sat on that very same plate were gone down the black-hole that was my guest’s throat and was now busy gulping down her tall glass of milk.
I turned around to pick up the remote that she had left in front of the TV and picked it up. “Ok, do you want to watch another episode of this or should we change the channel?” I asked to Pinkie Pie, expecting an answer. Instead, I was answered with a soft snore. I turned back around only to confirm that Pinkie was fast asleep on the couch, her empty plate and glass right beside her.
Dear God, I thought as I picked up the plate and glass, she must have been just as tired.
After throwing those items into the sink, I opened up a side closet in the living room to fetch the extra blanket for Pinkie. As I put it on her sleeping body, I notice a lot more things now that she’s sitting still. She looked a lot worse up close, her fur and mane were coated with dirt and other nasty stuff, her hooves were all cut up, and her there was a big cut on one of her legs.
I also noticed a strange mark on the side of her bottom, which were unmistakeably in the shape of a couple of balloons.
All of these just brought so many more questions into my mind, I just couldn’t answer them though.
But I had to start somewhere. And that thought I had earlier...
I quickly walked over to my computer and booted it up. Once I was on the internet, I searched Google for “Pinkie Pie.” Immediately, pictures arose on my screen.
There was no denying it. These were all pictures of Pinkie Pie.
I clicked on the Wikipedia link and was brought to the wiki page for the show, “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic”. Oh boy, this show. The one that all those grown men worship like it was the next PowerPuff Girls. What were they called again, Bronies?
On the page, a description of the character was given and it went something like this:
“Pinkamena Diane Pie (Pinkie Pie) is a pink earth pony with light blue eyes and curly, dark pink mane and tail… she is a baker and confectioner at the Sugarcube Corner and a party planner. She is hyperactive, random and quite silly but is also friendly and uncommonly kind. Her behavior is frequently random and sometimes chaotic and she has been known to break the fourth wall. The character often smiles. When she becomes sad enough, her mane and tail change from curly to straight and her pink coloration loses its brightness. While she usually hops around, Pinkie is exceptionally quick when running.”
Holy crap, I thought, this description is spot on. In fact, it matches perfectly with the pony sleeping in my living room.
I rubbed my temples, for my head was really beginning to hurt. What does this mean? Why is a character from a little girl’s show roaming around in real life? How is this even possible? I know for a fact I’m not hallucinating, I’ve touched her. She seems to be real. But how?
The questions were just too overwhelming, so I had to push them aside. Screw figuring out why she was here. I would think about that later. Right then, I had something much more important to deal with, the actual Pinkie Pie.
I got up from my seat and went into the bathroom to take a shower. When I got out, I changed into a regular white shirt and shorts. I noticed that the computer in my room was still on, so I went to shut it off. I was just about to click “Log-off” when a very curious question popped into my head: Why do men like My Little Pony?
Now, I’d thought that same question a number of times before, but at that moment it just seemed more relevant to my current situation. How many men like me watched that show and saw Pinkie Pie and her friends talking on screen and enjoyed it?
Curiosity got the better of me, and I sat down once again. I searched for “my little pony friendship is magic season one episode one” and out popped a YouTube video of decent quality. On screen, a book opened up on screen and a narrator began talking. Later in life, I would look back at that book as the beginning of a new chapter of my life.
