Existential Pie

by alexmagnet

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Pinkie Pie, Slice of Life
Length: 1947

When a depressed stallion enters Sugarcube Corner questioning his purpose in life, it's up to Pinkie Pie to help him figure out what that is. Things are about to get existential...

When a depressed stallion enters Sugarcube Corner questioning his purpose in life, it's up to Pinkie Pie to help him figure out what that is. Things are about to get existential...

Published 2013-11-09 02:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-09 02:40:03 UTC

Life Could be Simple

Today started off like every other day for Pinkie Pie. She woke up, shouted a cheerful good morning to the sun, Ponyille, the Cakes, and just about anyone within earshot, and she finished it all off with a delicious breakfast before tying an apron around her waist and getting to work baking the day’s first batch of sweets. A few minutes into the first tray of cookies, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, along with Pumpkin and Pound, waved her goodbye before heading out the door. They were off to spend the day with their children, and had thanked Pinkie profusely the night before for agreeing to watch the store while they were gone.

Pinkie, of course, was more than happy to oblige as it meant she had the run of the place while they were gone. She was going to be doing things Pinkie-style. Alas, Pinkie’s blissfulness was not meant to last. She had only just begun to haul out the buckets of streamers and confetti when the door chime rang, heralding the entrance of her first customer.

“Good morning!” Pinkie cried, jumping up from behind the counter. “What can I do ya for?”

The stallion opposite her wore a dour expression. His face sagged into a mushy mess of wrinkles and his pink little watery eyes looked inexplicably sad. It was as if his entire face had been bludgeoned with a depressed tree branch.

He heaved a massive sigh.

“Can I… help you?”

He looked up while his face sagged further down. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you have what I’m looking for or not.”

Pinkie frowned. “Well, I can’t help you unless you tell me what you need, silly.” She waited for the stallion to say something, but he just looked around wearily without saying a word. “Umm… we’ve got cookies, cakes, brownies, and pie if you’re hungry?”

He shook his head.

“Well, how about some marzipan, or macaroons?”

Another shake.

“Candy canes, lollipops, gummi worms, taffy, licorice, chocolate, truffles, eclairs, bon bons, jawbreakers, rock candy, caramel, brittle, peppermint bark, gumdrops?”

Nope.

Pinkie crossed her fore hooves over the counter and made a pouty face. “Well, what do you want?”

“Answers.”

“Answers to what? A math quiz? I was never very good at math.”

He shook his head yet again. “No, nothing like that.”

Pinkie wiped away an invisible bead of sweat. “Whew! That’s good. I doubt I’d be much help with math anyway.”

“It’s something more complicated than that.”

“Darn… Okay, so what, then?”

The stallion heaved another sigh. “I want to know why I’m here.”

Pinkie’s frown did a 180 instantly as her face split into a huge grin. “Well that’s easy, silly goose. You’re here to ask me why you’re… wait. What?” Spinning back around, her smile went back to its confused-frown state. “I don’t get it,” she said.

The stallion glanced behind him at the front door, as if he was expecting someone. “I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday,” he said. “About why I’m here. Why any of us are here.”

“We’re here because this is where we were born, or where we moved to, right?”

“No, I mean, why are we here, as in on this planet. What’s our purpose?”

Pinkie’s frown deepened into its ‘I’m thinking really hard about stuff’ form. “Boy, mister, you sure don’t softball ‘em in, do ya?” She tapped her chin, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. “That’s a toughie,” she said, giggling as her expression changed back to its usual carefree nature. “What do you think?”

The stallion cocked his head to the side. “That’s why I asked you. I don’t know.”

Pinkie reached across the counter and bopped the stallion on the head. “C’mon now, mister frowny pants, what kind of answer is that? You must think something, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me what I think.”

He blinked a few times, recovering from Pinkie’s bopping. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe we’re here for no reason at all? Maybe nothing we do matters? Maybe we aren’t even here at all, and we’re just figments of someone’s imagination?”

Pinkie shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Now, now, is that any way to go through life? You silly head, do you really think that nothing you do matters?”

The stallion remained silent for a moment, then he sighed. “No, I supposed I don’t really believe that. But still, what if there is no purpose to life?”

Pinkie grinned. “If that were true, then you wouldn’t be here, silly. Things just don’t exist without a purpose, now do they?”

“Well—”

“Like, take this crazy doohickey for example.” Pinkie reached into a nearby drawer and a pulled a medieval torture device out. Actually, it was just a little spiky rolling pin with a handle on it, but it looked a lot more evil than that. “I don’t even know what this thing is called, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a purpose.”

“Then, what is its purpose?”

“It’s used for making a bunch of little holes in the dough to keep it from going super crazy on you in the oven and bubbling up all over the place. You just roll it back and forth over the dough a few times, and you’re all set!”

“It looks more like a murder weapon to me.”

Pinkie snorted, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, it does look pretty scary, huh?” She waved it around, pretending it was a club. “Grahh! Look at me! I’m gonna hit you with my weird whatchamacallit!” She set the thing down and covered her mouth as she started to burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. “See?” she said, after she had calmed down a bit, “that’s my point. Even weird stuff like this has a purpose, so we must too, right?”

The stallion frowned, pursing his lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am!”

“But then, what is that purpose? You can look at that thing and kinda figure it out, but what about us? What’s our purpose?”

Pinkie crossed her hooves again. “Man, you just don’t let up, do you? Always with the tough questions.” She was silent for a moment. Then, her face lit up suddenly as if she’d been struck by idea lightning. “I’ve got it!”

The stallion looked at her skeptically. “You do?”

“Yup!” she replied happily. “Easy as pie, or eating pie, I should say.”

“What?”

“That’s our purpose! To eat sweets, be happy, and have fun. Pretty simple, right?”

“What about ponies who can’t eat sweets? I don’t think that’s it.”

“Oh darn, I forgot about them. Hmm, maybe you’re right? Maybe it’s something else?”

He nodded. “Something more complicated.”

Pinkie frowned, tilting her head to the side in thought. “Mm, no. I don’t think it’s more complicated, just… different.”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” said Pinkie as she ground her hoof into her forehead, “I think it’s simple because most things are. Like, the thingy from before. Baking itself may be complicated, but that roller’s purpose is simple. So, like baking, life is complicated, but our purpose in it isn’t, or least it must not be or that analogy won’t make any sense, heh.”

“So, you’re saying that we exist for a simple reason?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Because it doesn’t work that way.”

“How come?”

“Because it just doesn’t?”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

Pinkie smiled. “Why are you so sure it’s difficult? I’m sure that it’s not, but who knows who’s right?”

The stallion’s face drooped into a pathetic frown. “I just… I can’t believe it’s something simple. It just seems too easy for such a complicated question.”

“It’s not that complicated, silly. You’re just looking for your answer in the wrong places. Look at this conversation for instance. You’re asking me what your purpose is when you should be asking yourself. What does your heart tell you?”

“My… heart?”

“Yep!” Pinkie beamed. “Your heart is a lot smarter than you’re giving it credit for. It knows the answer.”

“It does?”

“Sure it does. Just stop and listen to it for once. What’s it telling you?”

The stallion looked down at his chest. He placed a hoof over his breast. “What’s my heart telling me? It’s saying… It’s saying—”

He was interrupted by the sound of the door chime before he could finish his thought. He spun around and saw a beautiful mare enter the store. Her bright orange mane cascaded across her shoulders and her eyes, icy blue, were fraught with worry. Before Pinkie even had a chance to welcome her newest customer, the mare cried out.

“Star! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Star’s eyes widened. “Charm? But…”

She ran up to Star and threw her hooves around his neck, pulling him into a hug so tight, it looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. “Oh, I was so worried about you. You just took off yesterday, and I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

He blushed, turning his face to hide the redness growing in his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Charm. I just… I was being stupid.”

She smiled at him, pulling him into another hug. “No, I was the one being stupid. I shouldn’t have said that. I was just so angry, and I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I already forgot what you said,” he said, laughing merrily. It looked as though a weight had been lifted off him. His face somehow looked several years younger, and his eyes were no longer so sad. He turned back to Pinkie. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you. Somehow, I’ve got this feeling like this was your doing.”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, I didn’t do anything. All I did is tell you what you needed to hear. By the way, did you ever figure out what your heart was telling you?”

He looked over at Charm, smiling. “Yeah, I figured it out.”

“That’s good to hear. So, no more running around all mopey, okay, mister?”

He laughed, suddenly so much more lively than he’d been when he first walked in. “I won’t. I promise.”

“What’s she talking about, Star?” asked Charm, cocking her head to the side.

Star waved his hoof. “Oh, it’s nothing. She just helped me figure out something is all. I was just—Hey. Do you smell that?”

All three ponies turned their noses skyward, sniffing around for the source of the mysterious smell. Suddenly, Pinkie jumped into the air as her eyes went wide. “Oh, shoot! The cookies!” She ran over to the oven, slipped on a pair of mitts, and quickly scooped the tray out.

Unfortunately, there were no survivors. The cookies were blackened to a crisp, and they crumbled sadly as she tried to scrape them off. She sighed, looking over to the counter. “Anypony want some free—Wait, where’d they go?”

The store was completely empty save Pinkie. She looked around, thinking they might be hiding behind something, but had no luck finding either of the two ponies She sighed again. “Guess they musta been in a hurry. Oh well, it looks like the trashcan will be getting some use today.” She carried the tray over to the trash and proceeded to dump the burnt cookies into the bin. “Heehee, guess we know what your purpose is, eh, Mr. Trashcan?”

After she had dumped the last of the cookies out, she cleaned the tray off and started baking a new batch of cookies while humming a tuneless song, completely oblivious to the pair of lights that were rapidly rising upwards before disappearing into the roof.