Chapter 1: I'll Pink About It...
On a normal spring day in the Ponyville library, Twilight Sparkle would be curled up on her bed and reading some new book regarding theories seemingly nonsensical to the average non-scholar. Her assistant, Spike, would be somewhere downstairs, juggling his work between cooking, cleaning, and an assortment of various chores. The sun would burst through the windows and dance on miscellaneous objects that would just so happen to grace its projected path. Birds would sing to their heart’s content, their chirps being a soothing background noise for such a peaceful afternoon. To any one pony who would walk into this library, they would think the very same that Twilight herself had chosen to believe—that today was indeed a normal spring day, and that there was nothing to worry about.
That is, she did believe it until a gruff belch protruded up the staircase and into her chamber. A pathetic, half-worried and half-frustrated whine escaped the unicorn’s lips as Spike dutifully chases up to the second floor, scroll in claw. With a silent nod, Twilight gestured her acknowledgment and audience.
Proceeding to unravel the parchment, the little dragon cleared his throat and began. “‘Hear ye, hear ye! Her grand royal Highness, Princess Celestia of Equestria, is pleased to announce the Grand Galloping Gala to be held in the magnificent capital city of Canterlot on the twenty-first day of—’”
“The Gala?” Twilight interrupted. “But last year was a disaster because of me! Why would the Princess want to invite me again?”
“‘… cordially extends an invitation to Twilight Sparkle plus one guest. Her royal Highness was enthused with the outcome of the events during the year prior, and is eagerly awaiting a répondez s'il vous plait as soon as possible. Tickets will follow en suite in the following message.’” As if on cue, a following puff of smoke burst out of the burping dragon’s throat, and out appeared two golden, shimmering tickets.
“She was enthused with what happened…?” asked a slack-jawed Twilight.
Spike merely shrugged. Glancing between the tickets and the letter, he suddenly said, “Wait, remember? Princess Celestia came into the donut shop that night and said it was the best Grand Galloping Gala Canterlot’s ever had!”
“I thought she was just being courteous,” Twilight muttered, pawing at her bedsheets like a red-hoofed filly who just got caught.
“Guess not.”
“Hm… But then, if she liked it so much, why would she only give me two tickets, when it was made complete with all seven of us?”
Spike could only look at his mentor ignorantly as her eyes darted about the papers in his grip. After a moment of silence, he concluded, “Oh, well. We can go together this year though! Just you and me, like old times!”
To this, Twilight slid off her bed and stalked over to her open window, gazing out at the buzzing ponies below her. “As fun as that sounds, Spike, I’m not exactly jumping at the chance to go again.”
“What? But why not?”
“Because, Spike,” she retaliated, turning around, “I only went last year to talk to the Princess in person about my studies. But I didn’t even get a second to talk to her until we left the Gala! I just can’t think of another reason to attend.”
“Oh…”
Hearing that tone in his voice, her heart tugged while her mind took a more sympathetic turn. “Tell you what, Spike,” she said. “How about I find somepony else who would want to go with you?”
At that, the boy’s eyes lit up. “You really mean it?”
“Of course! What with all the ponies who tried to butter me up last year, surely they’d still want to go now!”
This, of course, was an exaggeration Twilight was not aware of.
Hours passed by as the sun started its descent, and not a single pony who knew of what happened at the previous Gala wanted to go this time. Flower Wishes claimed she had to work solely on her garden for the next week and a half, Colgate was busying herself with an advertisement sponsorship with a toothpaste company, and that odd Doctor fellow said nothing, just determinedly keeping his eyes glued to the fountain statue in the middle of the town square. Everypony just seemed to oh-so-coincidentally have their hooves full and be unable to make it this year. Beginning to feel defeat and disappointment in herself, Twilight hung her head low as she trudged back to the library.
I guess I can go with Spike this year, she thought to herself. Still…
Not halfway back to her home did Twilight make until her brooding was brought short by an enthusiastic blur of pink speeding past her, then plopping down right in front of her.
“Oh, hiya Twilight! How’re you doing?” Pinkie Pie nearly squeaked.
“Not that good, Pinkie. I’d like to just go home now though, so if you could just move out of the way…”
The earth pony shot up in an excessively loud gasp, exclaiming, “Not that good?! But I need to make sure all of my friends are doing extra super-duper spectacular! What’s wrong?”
“Well, I was trying to find somepony else to take the second ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala this year for—”
“The Grand Galloping Gala? Well, I’ll go!” Pinkie grinned.
Shocked, to say the least, at the sudden invitation contrasting every other rejection, Twilight couldn’t find any words. When her thoughts returned, she said, “Er, really, Pinkie? I mean, last year’s was pretty… well, horrible.”
“Of course it was, silly filly!”
She stared at Pinkie in disbelief. “Th-then why would you want to go again?”
“Don’t you remember? We all agreed that it was, like, the worst, but because it was the worst, it was the greatest super-fun party we ever had!” Triumphantly sticking her chest out, Pinkie let her words hang in midair as Twilight absorbed them.
After a minute or so of silence, Twilight looked back up from the ground and eyed her friend thoughtfully. “Well… alright, if you really want to go, I’ll let Spike know that you’re going with him.” She had begun to shimmy past the party enthusiast, while said enthusiast froze like an ice sculpture.
“Wait… you’re not going, Twilight?”
The unicorn chuckled, “Definitely not—I hated it last year. Why would I want to attend?”
“Because it was the worst, so it was the greatest super-fun party we ever had?” Pinkie’s brows knit together in a mock expression of both anger and sheer confusion.
“I… suppose it was,” Twilight drawled slowly and cautiously. She spent a fair amount of time examining the other pony’s sky blue eyes, in a fruitless attempt to read her thoughts. When the lavender librarian found that the other's pupils had nothing to say, she continued, “Even so, it would only be just the two of us. Not exactly as fun as with Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow or Fluttershy, right?”
“Don’t say that, Twilight! I’d love to go to the Gala with you, ‘cause you’re plenty fun! You know, that kind of funny fun that isn’t actually funny but is just really, really fun?” Pinkie’s impossibly wide smile returned as she gave a compliment to her friend, but failing to coherently send it.
“Uh… no, I don’t know. But…” she sighed. “Alright—I give in. We can go together, Pinkie Pie.”
“Whoopee!” Pinkie cheered, summoning up an unexpected strength as she lifted Twilight off the ground and into a hug. “I’ll show you that it won’t be über-mega-boring like you thought it was last time!”
“Right…” Twilight trailed off with extreme doubt towards her pink friend’s allegation. “Anyway,” she sputtered, squirming her way out of Pinkie’s tight embrace, “I better get back to the library and let Spike know about the change of plans.”
“Uh-huh! Bye-bye, Twilight!” Pinkie didn’t seem to really acknowledge those last words as she bounced off in some random direction, beginning to hum as she did so.
“You mean I’m not going to the Gala?” Spike asked through a mouthful of gems, trying to drown out his disheartened mood with kitchen delights.
“Of course not, Spike; you’re still going. You’ll just be going with Pinkie.”
The baby dragon did a double take in Twilight’s direction. “But… but you already told Pinkie you’d go with her!”
“I may have said that, yes,” explained the unicorn, “but that doesn’t mean I meant it. I just wanted to make sure I got somepony to go with you.”
“So you lied to your own best friend?” he accused.
“Spike!” Twilight glared in offense. “I didn’t lie; it was simply a stretch of the truth. Besides, Pinkie Pie would have so much fun seeing what kind of trouble she can get into, she won’t even mind that I’m not going with her.”
“Oh, no,” Spike huffed, “I am not going. Not when you already promised Pinkie Pie that you’d go with her.”
“But Spike—”
“Don’t start that, Twilight! You knew what you were getting into.” With that, Spike hopped off the kitchen stool and dramatically swept across the room until he was out of her sight.
Inaudibly groaning, Twilight Sparkle took a comfortable seat on the floor in front of a large section of books and idly levitated them to her face. Finally settling on The Ponysian Letters, she read that book cover to cover in the matter of hours—and not a single moment of doing so was she unable to escape the proliferating frustrated and trapped feelings regarding the Gala.
To be honest, she never even knew the reason for yearning so badly to go before. The Sparkles were a long line of important intellectual figures of their time—that in itself was true—but nearly all of them were rather socially inept. And, unfortunately for her, the currently youngest heir had not strayed far from the genetic pool. Attending a social gathering of any kind was akin to facing every shred of fear she’s ever felt at once. Discussing with Princess Celestia in person about her magical studies was certainly something Twilight always looked forward to, but why did it have to be solely the Grand Galloping Gala in which she could do this? Surely, there could be some other instance to brief her teacher on all of her findings in some other means of communication than magical letters.
In fact, the more Twilight Sparkle thought about it, the more she despised the thought of going, even if it meant breaking her agreement with Pinkie Pie. Very well, she thought, I’ll simply tell Pinkie something came up and that I can’t go with her. Maybe she’ll find a way to convince Rarity or Rainbow Dash to go with her; somepony who might have a shred of reason to desire attending it once more.
Pleased with herself, Twilight promptly teleported herself into her room and practically skipped over to her desk. From there, her magic lifted a quill from its ink bottle, shook excess ink from its tip, and began scratching her apology onto a brand new sheet of parchment:
Dear Pinkie,
I’m very sorry to inform you that, due to unexpected circumstances, I am unable to attend the Grand Galloping Gala with you this year. I did, however, keep the extra ticket in case you wanted to take somepony else—this is attached below. Once again, I’m sorry, but I simply can’t go. Maybe next year?
Your friend,
Twilight Sparkle
For what seemed like hours—perhaps even days in her mind—the unicorn could only find herself capable of staring blankly at her letter, re-reading it and re-reading it until she could recite it from memory.
“Indecent,” Twilight decided, and she crumpled the paper.
Pulling out a fresh sheet, she began anew. And anew once more, and a third time, a fourth, a fifth, and so on and so forth. But no matter how many times she re-wrote or changed the wording of her letters, they seemed so inevitably inadequate that Twilight couldn’t help but begin to take on a rather severe headache.
“Ugh,” she growled, “Why is this so hard? I’m just telling Pinkie that I can’t go.”
Something inside of her, however, told her to go. Her integrity as Pinkie Pie’s friend, for some inexplicable reason, felt like it was at stake if she sent this letter to the bouncing bundle of joy. What if Pinkie Pie knew that Twilight was able to go, but just didn’t feel like it? What if she took it too personally, and thus became so hurt that she’d throw another episode as she did once before on her birthday? Twilight couldn’t bear to risk it. Aside from going and fulfilling her implied promise being the right thing to do, the unicorn cared deeply for that pink pony, even if she didn’t always show it. She was still her friend, and she’d hate to hurt her in some way.
Just as she was set and bent on pushing past her comfort zone boundaries, another part of her piped up. Why should Twilight have to sacrifice her own happiness and comfort just to make Pinkie Pie feel the tiniest bit happier than she already is, and for only a brief night? Surely, friends don’t have to constantly make arrangements of battling their internal feelings just to give a miniscule benefit to the other. In addition, Twilight was so busy with her studies on magic and friendship, and for her recent lessons learnt she wanted to create a data visualization such as a third-dimensional graph; surely, this self-assigned project would be very time-consuming, and Pinkie would understand Twilight’s preoccupations.
And, right before she decided she would, in fact, stay at home during the Gala, her mind blew into a miniature war on her own morals, ethics, esteems, etc. Which, might Twilight add, was not the cure for her growing migraine. Pressing a hoof to her forehead, the unicorn ultimately decided on letting her decision wait until the following morning, before a crack along her forelock could split her head open. Eyes fluttering closed, Twilight’s last thoughts before diving into blissful unconsciousness were of Princess Celestia, the Grand Galloping Gala, and her perfectly peppy, pink friend.
Chapter 2: Downplay of Doublepinking
Euphoria…
Gah.
Not euphoria. Too bright.
Bright light. Sunrise.
Sit up.
Sitting up. Opening eyes.
Don’t want to. But must open.
Daily tasks. Desk.
Twilight, in her decently-rested, half-conscious state, somehow managed to stumble across the room to her study’s desk.
Letter. Celestia?
No; Pinkie.
…
Gala.
Twilight silently lifted a hoof so that her peripheral vision could just barely take note of the blurry blob of lilac to her right. She gazed at it for quite some time, trying to ask herself what exactly she was doing – and getting no answers since she was, in fact, half-asleep.
Not any longer, though. Since she just slapped herself.
“Right then,” she breathed. “The Gala…”
Her decision really seemed to rely entirely on her morals, and the balance between her compassion and her own self-interests. On one hoof, she could satisfy the concerns of one of her best friends, keep her young aide from bugging her about improper social conduct with acquaintances, and finally get her sorry flank out of the library for once. She bitterly considered that last portion, though in defeat realized it would help to some healthy extent.
Yet, something nagged at the back of Twilight’s brain, urging her to go forth and lie—er, stretch the truth, that is—to Pinkie Pie. There were always so many businesses to attend to as a pony who was hoof-selected to be the Princesses’ own private student, a scholar of magic and science, and designated librarian of Ponyville – and the Element of Magic, to boot. Yes, there was simply too much going on in her life for her to worry herself over silly recreational events such as the Grand Galloping Gala.
“Oh, but then I’d disappoint Spike and hurt Pinkie Pie’s feelings! But I can’t just ignore my studies!” Tapping a hoof to her chin, she followed up, “I wonder if there’s some sort of spell that can summon natural disasters from the deep depths of—”
“Good morning, Twilight,” a very sleepy and very grumpy Spike growled.
Twilight whipped her head around to spot him slouching in the doorway, rubbing ferociously at his eyes. “Oh, good morning Spike. Um, exactly how long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to hear you yelling. You’re still thinking about bailing on Pinkie?” the boy carped.
Choosing not to challenge Spike’s choice of words, she answered, “I just can’t go around sacrificing my time for my studies to go to any sort of—”
She stopped precipitously upon taking note of the scroll Spike was now handing to her. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“A letter from Princess Celestia,” he roughly explained. “I wrote to her last night while you were asleep.”
“What? Spike, you know you aren’t allowed to send any letters to the Princess without my approval!” the unicorn chastised, attempting to relay a tone of anger, but failed to summon anything but curiosity.
“I know, I know. But hear me out,” Spike began. He pawed for the scroll’s ribbon as he unraveled it. Clearing his throat, he recited, “‘Dear Spike, Thank you for contacting me before anything happened. Knowing Twilight, she’d most likely…’” his eyes squinted as his voice died down.
“Most likely what?”
“Uh…” Spike fought to keep his composure, but a small snicker burst out of his snout.
“Oh, give me that!” Twilight snatched it from him and levitated it to her eye level. “‘Knowing Twilight, she’d most likely… over-exaggerate the reality of things and possibly threaten the safety of Ponyville again.’” The accused angrily pursed her lips as she tried to block out Spike’s laughter.
“Too, haha… t-too rich! The P-princess…!” he managed between amused spurts of snorts.
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled. Diverting her attention from the pile of giggles that was tumbling towards her legs, she went on, “‘That is why I’ve canceled any incoming assignments for Twilight to complete – and she is forbidden from opening any informational book until the Grand Galloping Gala has gone by. She needs to learn how to… relax for a change.’” Twilight lowered the paper and bore holes into the wall in front of her.
“Uh… Twilight?” Spike managed to stop laughing long enough to show some worry for his mentor.
“No studying?” she whispered. Her ears flaringly flattened against her skull. “That’s… that’s absurd! Absolutely ridiculous! An atrocity to say the least!” she exasperatedly flung the paper in some random direction, frantically pacing as she released her stress through a verbal assault directed towards her teacher’s commands.
Careful not to get run over by the raging unicorn, Spike crept past her flickering tail and picked up the letter once more. “‘I trust that you can keep her in check as far as breaking the news goes—’ whoops…” he mumbled, casting a glance towards Twilight. “‘… and I expect to see her and Pinkie Pie at the Grand Galloping Gala this year. Best of luck, Princess Celestia of Equestria.’”
“I can’t believe the Princess would do something like this!” Twilight shouted, stomping around in a fashion analogous to chasing her tail.
Spike retorted, “Well, what’d you expect her to do? Come on, Twilight, she’s just looking out for you.”
Not more than four steps later, Twilight slowed down to a stop and stared at the floor beneath her. “... You’re right, Spike. I’m just, I don’t know, a little apprehensive?”
“A little?” Spike snorted.
Giggling nervously, she continued. “I guess taking a small vacation from here would take a load off of me...”
“Exactly! You’ve been spending all your time cramped up here; you need a break.”
“Alright, alright,” Twilight vied to silence Spike so she could concentrate. Briefly running over her options, she exhaled, “I guess I’ll go see if Rarity can schedule a consultation for my dress.”
Spike smiled, and bowed as he ran over to the doorway, holding the entrance open for her.
Just before she exited her chambers, a sudden thought shot back to her head. “Oh! But Spike, didn’t you want to go to the Gala?”
“Nah,” Spike waved off the offer, “it’s okay. Somepony’s gotta watch the library while you’re gone, and I’ll be that somepony—er, dragon!” He puffed his chest out for emphasis.
“Gotcha,” Twilight winked. Taking her leave, she noted, “Ah, I also have to pick up some groceries and quills on my way home. I should get back late afternoon, but in case I don’t, help yourself to whatever food we have.”
“Aye-aye!” her assistant saluted. He followed her until she left the borders of the library. “Bye, Twilight!”
“See you later, Spike!” she waved.
Yes, this could be good, Twilight mused in her thoughts. There’s been so much going on with my studies lately that I’ve almost forgotten what fun is. Who knows? Maybe I really will have fun, which in turn could be beneficial for me psychologically. Thus, it could improve my emotional state and my performance as both a librarian and student.
Snatching a whiff of the fresh outdoor air of Ponyville, her muscles immediately lost their tension. Her eyes fluttered closed as she halted for a quick second, taking in the utter calmness flushing over her body. At that instant, all of her previous stresses vanished, as if they were never there in the first place. And for once, Twilight was unwinding.
Who would’ve guessed?
Satisfied, Twilight resumed a steady trot to the Carousel Boutique.
Occasionally sweeping side-to-side so as to avoid other bustling ponies as they went about the day, the unicorn kept to herself quietly, basking in the alluring sunlight. She had to concede that she regretted staying primarily in her study the past month or so. Why, she'd even go as far as to send Spike off to pick up groceries, deliveries, or complete any outdoor task that needed to be done. Twilight had felt that if she had just buckled up and gone outside, she would have earlier seen the wonders of life that could never be fully captured in some trivial book.
Or, most of them, considering her cease of dodging other ponies had not helped her balance.
Vowing to never cognitively rant again for the security of hers and those around her, Twilight approached her destination. Peculiarly, however, she noted the shop was pitch-black in its entire interior – was Rarity closed today?
Oh, well, Twilight hummed thoughtfully, turning on her heel bulbs to carry out the rest of her daily chores.
A crashing noise from inside the boutique, however, had other plans for Twilight.
“What the…?” her voice squeaked. With a subsequent ear flick, she gave heed of somepony’s voice babbling below whispering level.
Okay, something is up. Rushing back to the door, she worriedly knocked on it. “Rarity? Are you in there? Is everything okay?”
The lack of replies she was given caused her to intensify her knocking, until finally the unlocked door gave in and swung open with a define squeak. With a sharp intake of air, Twilight stalked into the seemingly empty building and looked about. She found herself constantly tripping over items strewn in an unorthodox manner, and as she reached the center of the room, Twilight’s concern regarding the unusual disorganization grew exponentially.
Without any given warning, the lights flashed on, and en masse just about everypony in Ponyville sprang out from toppled over furniture to give a unified and loud “Surprise!”
“Wh—” Twilight was cut off short when a pair of pink hooves were flung around her neck, the body following not soon after to knock her to the ground.
“Twilight! I’m so happy you could make it!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, squishing the unicorn to the floor.
“I am too, Pinkie…” Twilight began, prying herself free of the earth pony’s affection. “But, um… what is this all about?”
Zipping away for a short second to refill somepony’s punch, then promptly returning, Pinkie answered simply, “My pre-Gala surprise party that I threw just for you!”
“Pre… Gala surprise party…?”
“Well, duh! The Gala’s not gonna be extra-amazing-fantastically fun, so the pre-Gala party’s gotta be extra-amazing-fantastically fun in its place! Y’know, for a super smart pony, you sure can be oblivious sometimes!”
Twilight took a tad of offense to that last remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on!” the other encouraged, pushing a protesting Twilight across the room. “Let’s get this party started!”
Twilight had to admit, she had fun. Despite the tragic mishap with Pin the Tail on the Pony—which shall not be spoken of, everypony agreed—it really was a spectacular festivity; certainly top-notch, even considering Pinkie Pie’s standards.
She hadn’t noticed it before, but declining Pinkie’s party invitations for quite some time to read had really run her social needs dry. Every once in a while, the librarian concluded, she really ought to go outside and chat with somepony. Maybe I should write a letter to the Princess about that, Twilight joked as she took a sip of grape punch.
“… and then I said, ‘Oatmeal? Are you crazy?!’” Pinkie’s re-telling of some story nopony can remember flew throughout the party floor, eliciting more than a few chuckles.
For being completely spontaneous, Pinkie sure is great at cheering up her friends, Twilight warmly noted, leaning against a wall. I should thank her once the party’s over.
“Hey, Twilight!” Rainbow Dash signaled for the unicorn to come over. “C’mon, we’re starting some game Pinkie Pie just made up!”
"Boy, that sure spells trouble," Twilight snickered as she trotted over to join her circle of friends.
A few indefinite hours had passed, and with such, various ponies began to find their ways out to wrap up their day. With Bonbon having to design her latest concoction, and Berry Punch needing to re-stock her drink supplies after spending the majority of them on the party, it wasn't long before the only ones left were the very same group of pals that had sat down on the middle of the floor.
“Holy sarsaparilla! Look at the time!” Pinkie suddenly gasped, staring at some drawn-on watch wrapped around her pastern. Sure enough, Twilight observed the sun dipping behind the horizon, its beautifully red tail streaking behind it.
“Well, I’ll be darn’d! Sorry y’all, but ah gotta head back to the farm. Supper’s a-waitin’!” Applejack announced.
“Oh, that’s right!” Fluttershy piped up. “Angel needs to have his dinner, too.”
“Yeah, I gotta get some grub myself.” Standing up and stretching out cyan wings, Rainbow grinned as she flew out, “Nice party, Pinkie. Later!”
As the trio cleared out, Rarity cleared her throat, “Well, that was quite the party! Thank you, Pinkie.”
“No problemo!” Pinkie beamed.
“Oh!” Twilight’s brain clicked into place once more as she remembered why she was at the Carousel Boutique in the first place. “Rarity, I was wondering if you could schedule a consultation for my dress sometime.”
“Dress…? Oh, of course! Why, I do believe I’ll be up for quite some time cleaning this all up, so how about we get it done right now?”
“Are you sure?” the lavender unicorn tentatively asked, not wanting to impose on the alabaster one.
Said pony, however, waved off the worry. “Darling, don’t worry about it!” Floating a pen and notepad up in front of her, Rarity spun to face Twilight and began, “Now, what exactly are you looking for?”
The librarian didn’t seem to hear the question, however, as her eyes endeavored to follow the scurrying blear streak that was Pinkie Pie in motion.
“Twilight?”
“Hm…? Ah! Sorry, Rarity,” she apologized. “What did you say?”
“I asked what image you wanted for your dress.”
Adopting a concentrated frown, Twilight rolled slowly, “Nothing very complex… I liked the color you did last year; maybe a shade darker?”
“Navy blue,” Rarity muttered to herself, scribbling away at the page. “And the length?”
“I wasn’t very fond of the length of the last dress—no offense. Something shorter, slightly overlapping the gaskin, perhaps?”
“Going short this year? I like it,” Rarity chuckled. “Shape? Design?”
After a while of reflection, Twilight stated, “I think I’ll trust you with those aspects.” Blushing at her more demanded reply, she continued, “Er, if that’s alright with you. Did you want my input?”
“No, I think I have enough. I’ll get it started tomorrow, though, if you don’t mind. Today was rather… tiring, to say the least. And I still have to tidy up all this—”
The two unicorns had finally turned around to face the laid out furniture – or lack thereof. The walls that were once splattered about with punch and cake (for reasons not to be questioned) now practically sparkled with cleanliness. Any couches, chairs, mannequins or stands that were used as barriers for the surprise had been placed in their designated areas. The floor also was free of any food or drink splotches, and in their places were a few visible swipes of a mop that was sitting in the corner. To put it bluntly, even a native Canterlotian would eat off of this floor.
Jaws plopping down to their full extent, Rarity finished, “… mess…?”
“Ohf, hmyuh guyhs!” Pinkie bounced back into the room, a large trash bag in her mouth. Spitting it out with a loud ptooey!, she explained, “I tried cleaning up what I could, but I couldn’t finish in time. Sorry!”
“No, no, Pinkie… Uh, th-thank you, I mean. But how did you even…?” Rarity achieved a half-comprehensible inquiry.
“Just trying to help a friend!” the earth pony chirped. “Plus, it kinda was my fault it got this messy.”
A coat of pale blue surrounded the trash bag Pinkie Pie had brought in, sending it in a slouch against a wall to be thrown away later. “Not a problem, dear. Listen, girls,” Rarity yawned, “there’s quite a bit to get done today, so…”
“Oh, not a problem,” Twilight responded. “We’ll show ourselves out.”
When the two made their exits, the marshmallow-coated pony called out, “Oh, and Pinkie! We’ll have to make a consultation for you. Would tomorrow afternoon here work?”
A small grin spreading across her lips, Pinkie replied, “Yeppers peppers! Bye!”
Bowing her head in gratitude, Twilight galloped out to catch up to the springy figure ahead of her.
“Um, Pinkie Pie!”
“Mhm?” the mentioned asked sweetly.
“Uh, thank you… for the party, I mean. I haven’t really gotten out in a while, so I just…” the unicorn trailed off, a hoof swooping around her to scratch the back of her head nervously.
“Of course!” Pinkie bubbled. “I saw that you weren’t really doing so well up in your room, so I thought, ‘Gee, Pinkie, y’know what’d be swell? If you threw a pre-Gala party for Twilight! That way she could hang out with all of her friends and have lots of fun so she wouldn’t be so sad anymore!’ And then I did, and you got to hang out with all of your friends and have lots of fun! And then I was like, ‘Gosh, Pinks, ya really did well with this one! I mean, you always do your best, but this was top-notch, blow-your-socks-off-to-next-Tuesday good!’ Don’t you think so?” With each word she spoke, the apprentice baker had leant closer to her audience until Twilight was supporting approximately a quarter of Pinkie’s weight with her nose.
Stepping back and letting Pinkie topple over onto the ground, Twilight answered, “Um… yes, it was very nice. And also, thank you for convincing me to go with you to the Gala.”
“Oh, well sure! I just wanted to spend it with you, if I was going! Y’know?” Pinkie jumped back up almost immediately.
Swallowing in hopes to quench her suddenly dry throat, Twilight expounded, “Well, there’s more to it than that. You see, yesterday, when I had told you I would go with you, I wasn’t exactly… telling the truth. I was just desperate to find somepony to go with Spike so he wouldn’t feel lonely, but I realized in doing so I would be hurting your feelings. So, I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie. I wasn’t being a very good friend, was I…?” For reasons she couldn’t explain, her eyes began to burn and sting, and she shut them before any signs of reddening showed up for her friend to see.
It didn’t seem the case, however, as said friend gently pulled Twilight into a hug, to her surprise. “That’s okay, Twilight. I can understand if you didn’t wanna go with me at first. But,” Pinkie pushed the other mare away to look at her square in the eye, “I will show you that it won’t be über-mega-boring like you thought it was last time!”
The optimism in that pony’s tone couldn’t help but emanate to Twilight, before she, too, let those worries past her. Wiggling out of the embrace, Twilight giggled, “Yes, yes, you said that yesterday.”
“Really? Huh. Oh, well! I have to go help Mr. and Mrs. Cake close up Sugarcube Corner. See ya, Twilight!”
“Goodbye, Pinkie.” Twilight saw her friend off before she started her run-through of errands.
Things were running rather smoothly, the unicorn felt. At least, it was undoubtedly an improvement from last night. And in fact, if Twilight was to be completely honest with herself, she was really quite happy. As she trotted off to the quill and sofa store, she began to wonder why she didn’t want to go to the Gala with Pinkie to begin with.
