Pinkies

by ferret

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Comedy
Length: 11533

Pinkie what did you dooooo

A friendly afternoon at a delicatessan goes horribly awry as prophecy becomes reality. Something odd is happening in the human world. Humans are turning into ponies! But what could be causing this? Follow the life of a man gone Pinkie Pie as he struggles to keep his friends together, come to terms with what he's become, and to survive. No, that's not a metaphor. He literally becomes Pinkie Pie. Merely mentally adopting Pinkie Pie's upbeat and cheerful attitude would be way too easy on him.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-24 07:08:35 UTC

The Noodle Incident

In my dreams I stumbled drunkenly through my apartment. I was so drunk I had to crawl, going into the bathroom to splash water on my face. That's what you do when you're drunk right? Splash water on your face. The sink seemed to loom over me distortedly and, as resourceful as ever I pushed the stool over... with my face. God I must be so drunk, I thought. I don't remember drinking though? When did I get back from the bar? Do I even go to bars?

I would have wracked my brain trying to explain this mysterious amnesia but when I climbed up on the stool my breath caught in my throat.

Pinkie Pie was staring back at me in the mirror. “Are... you real?” I asked. She only mouthed at me silently, looking absolutely captivated. “Did... did I break a Pinkie Promise?” I whispered moving to touch the glass but all she did was move identically until our hooves touched. Wait hooves? Where are my hands?! “Holy shi-” and with that the mirror Pinkie fell away, as I fell away from the sink, my stool toppling over as I lurched backwards.

I woke up then. “Phew, just a dream,” I said in Pinkie Pie's voice. Throwing back the covers I still had Pinkie Pie's body!

“And that's when I woke up for real!” John concluded, leaning back in the booth. “You don't even like Pinkie!” Dan chimed in.

“I know!” John exclaimed. “Twilight Sparkle is best pony!”

“I wish I could have cool dreams like that,” bemoaned Ricky, next to me in the booth in that ratty delicatessan we always met at. Ricky was just the sort to dream about a certain pink pony. He was always the one who arranged these things, so social all the time. He knew half his school if not half the town. Plus he grew up in a poor neighborhood. May as well have been a rock farm. Too perfect!

“Sorry Rick,” John said slyly. “I'll try not to dream about being you next time.”

“What? Hey!” Ricky protested after a moment to figure it out. He had a sort of high pitched voice for a guy too. It was too perfect! The entire table broke out laughing. Except Elias of course. Elias just looked embarassed and blushed quietly, like he always does.

“If anything I'm Applejack,” Ricky huffed. “So I should be dreaming about her.”

“I still don't get why you like Worst Pony,” John cut in and Ricky threw back as expected, “You mean best pony!” No more needed to be said. They all knew no pony was better than another. For them it was just fun to pick one, and that inevitably led to endless best pony debates.

“It must be prophetic,” Dan announced. “For I had the very same dream, while I was Rarity.” Everyone stared at him dumbfounded. Dan was the Rarity fan, but he lived a practically slovenly lifestyle. He was still in his work uniform and he worked the morning shift part time. Probably just didn't bother taking it off, again. Why he was a fan of Rarity remained a mystery. But surely two dreams the same night couldn't have been a coincidence?

“Got you,” Dan finished after a long pause, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. Now everyone moaned in abject surrender. “You dreamt about what, lunch meat?” John interrogated. “Laundry?”

Dan shrugged. “I never remember my dreams.”

“I um, had a”, Elias began just as John announced, “OK everyone, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend Shannon!” gesturing at empty space. “She's not here though, so it will have to wait until later.”

“Are you sure she's real?” Ricky joked. “Can anyone else see this Shannon?”

“She gets off in an hour. You're just bragging because your girlfriend works here.”

“She's not-” Ricky started, thinking about what he was saying. “It's not that way at all. We're just in the same apartment block. She's not interested anyway.”

“Don't sell yourself short Ricky. You have to ask her. She could totally be into you!”

“Hey Dawn, are you interested in dating?” Ricky shouted to the lady at the register. “No I'm not interested in dating,” she shouted back across the restaurant. He folded his arms, “See? Simple.”

That was a bit over the top even for Ricky so it fell to that awkward silence right before you decide to call it a night and bid farewell. “I sort of had a dream about...” Elias said.

“What?” John asked. “Don't tell me you had a dream about...?”

“Fluttershy,” Elias blurted. “Just... just a Fluttershy poster. It was on my wall in the dream but I could never put one up there even if I had one!”

“Doesn't sound related,” Dan nodded. “I guess not,” Elias agreed, looking down.

“Still don't see why you like Fluttershy,” Ricky whined. “She's so boring. She's got no personality! Not like Pinkie Pie!”

“Well she does have the same voice actor,” Elias mumbled. “Yeah whatever,” Ricky finished dismissively. “Listen I got to get going. There's a few things I need to take care of before the party tomorrow.”

“Like what?” John asked curiously. “Oh just things,” Ricky said elusively, standing up and crumpling his paper wrapping, tossing it in the trash. Good 10 feet too. You could tell he was proud of it just from the way he strutted out of the deli.

With Ricky gone the other three made their parting swift, eventually leaving only Elias in the end sitting there illuminated by the setting sun. How would he explain? Could he even tell them the dream that he really had? But enough of that let's get back to John.

John had a job as a security guard, and hated every minute of it. They sort of hook you with a slight pay raise every now and again, but my god was it boring. Not even Twilight would have been able to watch this paint dry. It was only until 2am thankfully, but he'd just gotten off a graveyard shift at another location. They kept moving him around the city. Who knows where he'd be stuck next! Or when! Nobody came into this parking garage anyway. Usually just some kids at worst looking for a secret spot to get stoned.

John was ever resourceful though, and even this boring job could not phase a man with a swivelling chair and a tiny portable television full of colorful cartoon ponies. Still, come midnight he was already ready to call it quits. The short shift that seemed to take forever. He was feeling antsy for some reason, and eager to go back to sleep hoping maybe he'll have the same dream again. Not likely of course, but it had seemed so real! That's really the worst combination of things, being eager to go to sleep. Even by 2am he didn't even feel a wink of tiredness. But going back to the tiny square he lived in that night/morning and brushing his teeth he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

And in the night, he dreamed about Pinkie Pie not once! Not even once at all! Major bummer.

John woke that morning to the alarm clock beeping with his head leaning up against a bush. He shifted rubbing his eyes with his forearm blearily trying to figure out what it was. Did something fall on his bed? When he pulled his arm away from his eyes the truth became much clearer though, because framed by a mess of pink fluffy  hair was not an arm but a... OK it was still an arm half wrapped in giant drooping pajamas, bright pink, lacking in hands, and way too familiar to miss.

“Oh shi-” he said lurching back and in the process falling off the side of the bed. What squirmed forth from the tangle of sheets blankets and clothing was the pink party pony in the flesh. As far as John could tell at least. “Woah,” he said in Pinkie Pie's voice. “This dream is too real!”

He was sort of stuck in the sheets because nothing seemed to move correctly. Of course nothing seemed to move correctly. He'd only been ponyized for a few seconds! Or maybe a minute if you counted the dream last night no wait, the night before. He rocked back and forth on his back, as stuck as a turtle, until the noise of the alarm clock registered in his brain again.

It was one of those that would keep going forever unless you shut it off. A necessary evil for one who does not awaken easily. But John was suddenly worried that maybe one of the other tenants would hear and come investigate. How was he going to keep this secret? How was he going to get off the floor??

“Just a dream,” he repeated to himself, determined nonetheless to get that alarm clock. Chalk it up to dream logic? By inchworming John managed to get to the bedside table and knocking it over with his arm (hoof?) the beeping alarm clock fell into emperor Pinkie's dark doman there on the floor.

“My alarm is probably going off for real,” John thought cradling and fiddling with the little clock, “So turning this thing off wouldn't stop the beeping. Maybe it will help me wake up?”

The switch was tiny and barely extended out the side of the clock, but his new hoof had an edge to it that managed to catch and pull until it flicked to the off status, the beeping stopping as the room fell to the quiet of traffic moving outside.

“Perfect!” John thought inwardly the rumblings of panic beginning to build up in his abdomen. “Now my alarm is off and I can wake up now! Maybe I turned it off in my sleep? OK time to wake up John. Any minute now. Aaaaany”

John was startled out of his wits by a second noise, this one coming from his bag on his desk. He calmed down and stretched around, barely catching the edge of his desk chair in his hooves and using the leverage to pull himself over. “Thank heaven for having a small room,” he thought to himself.

John managed to get his forehooves on the chair, and they made an unsettling clop clop noise. “Makes sense if you're a horse I guess?” he thought silently. John didn't really want to speak out loud right now, because that voice was just too weird.

“I got it,” he realized, half climbing up onto the chair only to slip back to the floor again. “My alarm is still going off and the dream switched it to my cell phone!” With that relief he still had to get to the thing. “I'm gonna get the thing,” John thought, “And then I'm gonna wake up and not sleep through my paycheck again.”

Bracing his hind legs and pushing forward John managed to straddle the chair's seat and of course the chair being a swivel chair smacked his foreleg into the side of the desk. “Ow jeez ow,” John resisted saying out loud mightily, trying not to give into panic. “You can get hurt in dreams,” he reasoned, “Happens all the time!”

Then the noise of the phone stopped, and that unsettling quiet descended on the room.

John tried to listen for the sound of the alarm outside of his dream, snap himself awake somehow, but just couldn't get the right concentration. Shifting to sit on the chair in a clumsy spreadeagle position he looked at his bag worriedly, urging it to

Then his cell phone started sounding off again. Sighing with relief he fumbled with his bag a moment before just grabbing it with his teeth and dragging it into his lap. The phone was in his third pocket and he cradled it in one hoof looking at it curiously. Why would Elias be calling him, in his own dream?

A hoof sandwich wouldn't trigger the call button, but John managed to squash his nose against the phone enough for it to trigger. He hesitated not sure whether to pretend to be Pinkie Pie or say his name when the voice of Fluttershy started calling out “John? John? Are you there?”

“I'm here! Are you...?” John shouted into the phone.

“I need your... someone to help me.”

“Are you Elias?”

“Yes I am! I know I don't sound like it but oh John. Something terrible has happened!”

“Why call me then?”

“Your number was the first on the... I mean, it needs to be somebody who you know, the show...”

“I'll be right over. Just sit tight and don't freak out!”

“OK...” the way that voice ended was far too familiar. Fluttershy er, Elias was freaking out. John immediately knew what he had to do. Save Fluttershy er, Elias from doing something drastic! He leapt off the chair landing on all four legs and.

All four legs and

John was standing. On four legs. Four hooved legs. He wasn't hunched over. He wasn't on his knees. Just naturally standing on four legs. There was no way he could imagine ...this. There was too much going on. There was no way... this couldn't be a dream. John's ear twitched.

John spent the next hour rocking in the fetal position.

Elias was freaking out but much less now that he'd managed to call John. How was John going to drive here though? He should call someone closer. He should call the police. No that would be terrible... oh what to do what to do.

Elias stood on three wobbly but stable legs and tried to poke the telephone again with that clumsy h-hoof of his. Hers? He didn't even want to think of the implications of this. A show with so few prominent male roles naturally meant that, but he wasn't ready for, ready for any of this!

Her shaking hoof slipped and she hung up the receiver, proceeding to laboriously type out a number in the tiny notebook she had written down everything about her friends. Everything.

Ricky wasn't answering his phone. He'd … she'd tried calling several times. It's possible Ricky just could not get to it, or that something like this had happened to him... Dan too didn't answer. Nor did Sherman, Claire, Donald or Megan. Elias knew it was a good thing his... her parent's house had a bulky land line telephone, but she had never thought it would be so important!  It was difficult enough to use with what felt like some sort of giant fingernail.

After calling John though she tried Dan again. He was only a mile away. Maybe this time he would... he picked up.

“Dan! You have to come... did something... strange happen to you?”

“Elias?” came the foreign yet familiar voice. “Is... is that you?”

“Please Dan, I am freaking out here. I am... it would be really nice if you could.. I mean...”

“I'll be right over,” Dan said curtly, in that dulcet tone. “Don't move a muscle. I'll get there somehow!”

Elias huddled down next to the phone, too terrified and shakey to call any more. This was... this was something both terrible and amazing. Something he'd always dreamed... no not like this. Not her.

Gosh I love these dividers

John had gotten so very very bored of rocking in place. He was actually lying on his side again splayed out, still not sure how to right himself. He twisted over, landing in a heap. Tried it again. He just had to get to his... feet... and then he managed it. In one fluid motion he had the body of Pinkie Pie standing once again. “OK let's just take this s-l-o-w-l-y now” he said in that voice. It didn't exactly sound show accurate but... well it was almost a dead ringer! He simply could not talk out loud without sounding like Pinkie Pie, and Pinkie Pie could not talk quietly. He lifted one foot, hand, hoof, and put it forward. This might just work out.

After a few seconds he brought the hoof back to its neutral position. “How am I supposed to do this?” he put the hoof forward again, tried it with the opposite back hoof and squealed as he fell over again. It didn't take as many tries to get righted again. All right, really getting the hang of this now! Of uh... being a walking horse. Woo hoo.

Then John almost lost his balance again and only by leaning into the forehoof could he stay upright, tottering a few steps but not falling over. Wait... yes!  “Yes!” John crowed. That had been at least 3 steps! Hard to measure with so many hooves to keep track of. Oh well! John stepped forward and leaned on it this time, and it seemed to be working but he overbalanced and fell on his snout.

“Oww...” he whined cradling the sensitive gigantic schozz in his hooves. OK so next time don't lean too much. John took two more steps before bumping his forehead into the door to the hallway. “Damn this room for being so small!” he exclaimed. It sounded...wrong. John repeated himself more quietly (still kind of indoor voice loud though), “Darn this room for being so small.” Yeah that sounded like her. None of the ponies swore on the show. It just sounded wrong to hear her voice saying anything, but swearing? Damn.

John reared up and clasped the doorknob in both hooves. There was absolutely no friction. He couldn't get the thing to turn at all. He scrabbled at it then fell back to four hooves. Reared up and scrabbled at it again. This did not look good. Then again, the hinges had simple bolts and were on the inside.

Two minutes later the door fell inward, pushing over the chair that had served as a makeshift step stool, the door coming off its hinges and crashing to the floor noisily. John stood there with a flathead screwdriver sideways in his mouth, wincing at the noise. Hopefully nobody would mind the door, as this was clearly an emergency.

He had wrapped around his midsection the bag he had fought with earlier. The straps were cinched up enough so that it stayed on his back, even if they were sideways and the straps dangled like party streamers. John took three steps to the outside and fell over by stepping on a dangling strap.

The apartment manager found a bright pink pony struggling to work a pair of scissors with one hoof and a mouth to cut short some straps on a bag wrapped around its midsection. “Gahh!” he shouted stumbling back. “Oh hi mister Tompkins!” it said to him spitting out the scissors. “Come here and help me cut these straps short. I have to go see my friend!” Mr. Tompkins reached for the scissors and hesitated, “What are... who are you?” he asked half in horror half in disbelief.

“I'm uh... I'm Pinkie Pie!” the pony said giving the brightest smile. “Don't worry this is uh, you're dreaming and I'm just a pony in your dreams. And you need to uh, cut these straps so I can get about my dream business.”

This is a freaking weird dream, thought the apartment manager, struggling to cut the tough strap cloth, but ultimately succeeding in short order. “Thank you so much” Pinkie... Pie said relievedly. “You'll wake up any minute don't worry. Now I have to be going lalala~”

That last part sounded a bit rehearsed. Mr. Tompkins was left squatting on the floor of an empty apartment next to a toppled door with a pair of scissors in his hands. Only after hearing the ding of the elevator did he think to move. The pony was still there, its back turned no wait. It was just waiting for the elevator. The doors closed and he stood up shouting “No wait--!” Greg Tompkins just realized, how was anyone going to believe this?

He wondered if he could get the camera footage from the landlord's security company.

Amazingly for John, there were no more intractable obstacles. The elevator buttons were big and easy to push, and he didn't need to reach the high ones. The door outside of the building was glass and just needed a push to open. And then John was free and on the street.

The morning was bright and sunny by now, getting on to afternoon. Days were short this time of year. Despite the chill in the air, John felt, well for lack of a better word, fantastic. He'd managed to walk all the way down the hall and continued on outside in that drunken uncertain gait. And he couldn't help  but snurf at the memory of Mr. Tompkins' face. John had even managed the singing exeunt!

It was not very long though before John was clip clopping along, in a bright sort of bouncing gait. Not the Pinkie Pie, but a more confident walk at least. The streets looked weird from this perspective. Mailboxes were taller than him. But it was recognizable enough, and John had a... pretty good idea how to get to where Elias lived. Ricky had arranged a party there once, with that boy's chronically absent parents.

“Ricky...” John thought a bit sadly. “He would have wanted to meet the real Pinkie Pie. I wonder if he turned into a pony too.”

After about half a block the canter turned into more of a slow traipse, the need to get places overriding the bubbly happiness that he's sure his Pinkie Pie was produing in spades. He looked around like a tourist, though besides the new perspective everything was still pretty grey and boring. Upon reaching 3rd street he turned right, rearing up again to look at the crosswalk button.

“Oh god I remember when these were hard to press tiny things in little recesses” he thought, banging the giant easy to press button in repeatedly. It turned out however that he didn't need to wait for the walk signal because all the cars stopped as soon as they saw him on the side of the road.

“Oh well, can't look a gift horse in the mouth!” he thought, strutting onward in the direction of Elias's neighborhood.

It was funny how quickly he ate up the distance, and without hardly getting tired at all. 5 miles wasn't hardly anything in this body. “I wonder how fast Pinkie Pie really is” he thought, but didn't want to experiment right now. There was a scared Fluttershy Elias right now who desperately needed his help.

John got lost of course, passed the cul-de-sac several times before managing to figure out how to get in. It was easy enough to ask the people in stopped cars for directions anyway. They were probably upset, but hell with it. Not like I would want to keep this secret anyway. I'm being a pretty pink pony and nobody can stop me.

“1475..1” John repeated, having forgotten the last digit, but it was pretty obvious which house was which. They weren't a tract so they were individually distinct, and he could always remember what a party looked like. Clopping up onto the short wooden porch he knocked on the door calling “Elias? It's me John. Can you open the door? It's a latch on your side.”

A thump and the sound of approaching... hooves (whew) and the door clicked open, and then swung outward. For the first time in his waking life, John came face to face with Pinkie Pie.

“What?!” John bugged out, but there was standing Pinkie Pie, another Pinkie Pie. “You're... the real Pinkie Pie?” he asked almost reverently.

“No I'm... Elias...” the other Pinkie Pie said, retreating somewhat into the darkness of the house. John followed the retreating pony in pulling the door closed with his tail. Woah, how did that work? In the time it took John to inspect the cotton candy tail coming out of his rump Elias managed to retreat to the living area before John could interrogate the shy looking pink pony.

The house was spartan but nice. Mostly filled with furniture and kitsch. The sort of thing that you'd expect from busybodies who needed a lot of stuff to validate themselves, so in short your average American. Elias standing there was quite a contrast, glaring out against the off white and sepia tones. He seemed to walk more unsteadily than John, but that was probably because Elias didn't have five miles of practice.

“How could we both be Pinkie Pie?” John exclaimed. “You sounded just like Fluttershy on the phone!”

“It's... well, they have the same voice actor,” Elias offered helpfully, scraping a hoof against the carpet.

Now that John could see Elias closely he could tell she... he had differences from Pinkie Pie. The hair was still curly, but he was shorter than John, and seemed to have more teardrop shaped eyes. And curly more in a curling iron sense than a nappy pinkfro. Or maybe that's how Pinkie Pie's hair really was? What's going on here?

John would have asked Elias just that, but he heard a familiar voice say “Who was it Elias? You didn't open it did... you...” as around the corner from the kitchen walked Pinkie Pie. The three Pinkies stared at each other silently.

Pinkies

The Whipped Cream Incident

“Elias and I changed into, for lack of a better word, Pinkie Pie,” Dan said in his lecture voice. Damn grad student should have totally been Twilight. “And you did... too. How widespread is this? Is everyone on the planet changing into... Pinkie Pie?”

“Oh no,” John assured him. “Everyone I walked by was totally still human.”

“You walked by,” Dan said flatly.

“Yeah, on the way here,” said John, smiling brightly.

“You walked here,” Dan didn't seem to be comprehending.

“I went up 3rd to main, and then down that until it turned into 11th and then it was just a few side streets here.”

“You walked here in full sight of everyone?!” Dan boggled.

“Well yeah, what was I supposed to do? Not like anyone crashed or anything!” It was then that they looked toward the front door and noticed the flashing of red and blue police sirens. “...oh,” John finished. “That's right, people call the police. Shit.”

Dan looked like he wanted to bite his tongue, or at least John's tongue, but he just spit out the words, “Find somewhere to hide. Nobody is here!”

“But we're here...” Elias said confusedly.

“Nobody. Is here.” Dan said firmly. “You hide in the closet upstairs. You hide in the front closet. I will find a hiding place in the garage.” He then went wobbling over through the kitchen to the door to the garage which obediently swung open for him and shut behind with a click. Wait what?

The sound of boots made the other two remaining ponies scatter. Elias going up the stairs absolutely silently and John practically leaping into the front closet, where the jingling of coat hangers he was sure would no, no they can't have heard anything from way outside. That would be the worst thing ever. Snerk.

He slid the closet door shut and hoped for the best. Which was a good idea it turned out because the police just walked around the house, checked behind side gates and in backyards, but how were they supposed to know that animals had figured out how to open doors? A heartwrenching knock at the door snapped him to attention, but John didn't budge no not one inch. It repeated as he chewed on his hoof nervously. Then the police just walked away.

John hid some moments more. Were they gone? Did he screw up royally? Were they just lying in wait?  Or were they sneaking up on him?! His butt smooshed against the closet wall as voices approached the closet door. He gave a silent prayer that they wouldn't find him in here but then with a rattle the closet door began to open.

“I'm so sorry guys!” he screamed, charging forward to bowl over the policeman who no doubt was peering inside. Perhaps this would buy them time to escape! John reared up ready to do a damage to some blue suited menace's face when he noticed that it was Pinkie Pie Elias below him, not an angry police officer, and there was nobody in the room besides Elias whom John had pinned to the ground, and Dan somewhat off to the side looking entirely nonplussed.

“Just as planned.” John said later after they'd assembled in the living room again. Dan clubbed him over the head, which thankfully seemed to have grown harder along with their hooves. “OK OK maybe walking around in public isn't the best idea,” John agreed, “But it worked out right?”

“Who else is a pony though?” Elias asked in that calm peaceful tone that would be better coming from Fluttershy than Pinkie Pie. It seemed to fit him though, John thought. Something about the eyes maybe. They shone with the kindness in his... soul?

“The deli,” Dan said in a note of realization.

“The deli?” John repeated confusedly.

Dan waved her hands—hooves. “Everyone at the deli must have had that dream. It was prophetic! So now you and I and Ricky and...”

“Dawn?” John offered.

“Maybe she was too far away to catch it,” Dan muttered.

“You mean like a virus?!” Elias asked, alarmed.

“No not like a-” Dan stopped with an “Uugh. I don't know what caused... it, but that's the only idea I have. We all had a dream about being Pinkie Pie and--”

“You said you don't remember your dreams!” John protested.

“I lied, OK?” Dan said in a more subdued tone. “It was too weird to say at the time.”

“Um... actually, I only remember a dream about the Fluttershy poster,” Elias offered.

“Uggh!” Dan threw up his hooves, “I have no idea what's even going on!”

“The deli is probably still important though!” John pointed out. “It's the only clue we've got.”

“We should go over there,” Elias suggested. Dan nodded and then looked at John somewhat askance.

“Are you wearing a.. backpack?”

Dan peered at John's crude attachment, head turning sideways. It looked like a backpack. Kind of cut up though.

“Of course I'm wearing a backpack,” John cheered, then coughed and added in a more even tone “Just to carry my phone and um... tools... just in case.”

“Why are you still wearing it then?” the pink pony Dan asked curiously. “We've been here for an hour now.”

“Oh yeah,” John blushed, putting a hoof behind his hair. Sitting on their fetlocks as they were it looked about, well it looked exactly Pinkie. “I can't figure out how to unclip it.”

“Let me see that,” Dan told John, leaning in to look at the clasps with an unusual sense of concentration. “Yeah I can get that!” With a flourish the clips fell away and the sideways bag slid off a grateful Pinkie Pie I mean John.

Dan backed up beaming with a little more than her normal proudness. It wasn't everyday that a pony clipped, much less unclipped a canvas bag! “Thanks so much!” John cheered, wrapping Dan up in a big hoof hug without even thinking about it. Dan stiffened surprised at the sudden contact. John wasn't exactly the touchy feely type much less the grab you in a bear hug and give you a noogie type. Wait—hey! “Hey!” Dan squeaked, scooting back and furiously unruffling her hair.

“Huh, you got something in your hair,” John mentioned, pointing at Dan's volumnuous mane.

“What, like dirt?” Dan asked, reaching a hoof up to tug at her mane.

“No like a lump or something. Did you hit your head?” John clarified worriedly.

Dan felt around and got a look of realization, “Oh that. Yeah.” Her face contorted in concentration, which would not have looked entirely silly if it had been on any other pony's face. She went on after a pause as John tried not to snicker, “You know how we all changed into Pinkie Pie?” Dan explained, “Well that's not exactly”

The screeching of tires outside cut off the convenient exposition, and Dan shouted “Hide!” again before darting back into the garage, the door closing behind him.

The car door outside their house opened, and then there was a sound of hooves clip clopping up the porch again. Oh good. Wait. Oh no.

“Ricky!” floating through the door came Pinkie Pie's voice, “I know you're in there! What did you do?!”

Dawn was at the same time both furious and terrified at the strange eldritch forces which had undoubtedly warped her body last night. There was only one she knew who could have dreamed up such an insanity. One of those who watched... that show. When the door opened there were three Pinkie Pies staring back at her. “O....K....” she said, the sound of a pony returning to a drawing board echoing through her head.

Dan gulped a bit nervously. Maybe they should have waited for her to come in the house first? Well it turned out to be a non-issue, because Pinkie Pie came right in on four unsteady hooves and stuck her nose right in John's face. “Who are you? Where's Ricky?!” She seemed right properly peeved. Like, straight hair Pinkie peeved. She had straight hair.

“You're... Ricky right?” Dan asked unsteadily, voice quavering in an unfamiliar yet familiar way. Unfamiliar from the first person sense, but familiar from the “Oh god dammit that was right out of the show” way. Talking to Pinkie Pie as Pinkie Pie wasn't high on the list of things that Dan wants to do, or even things that Dan expects he's going to have to do, or for that matter things that are even physically freaking possible!

“No I'm Dawn,” Pinkie said turning to the left to face Dan, much to John's relief.

“Then where's Ricky?”

“He left a note!” Dawn said pulling a piece of paper out of ...somewhere. On it was scrawled and I do mean scrawled “AM SR Wnt 2 Dns” the last part was barely readable, but readable.

“He never came to my house!” Dan protested, “Or even called!” Pinkie Dan paused a bit before adding, “So why did you come here first?”

“I didn't,” Dawn said through clenched teeth. She seemed to be calming down though. “I managed to get my car working...” it sounded like she was going to elaborate about glued together bookends or twin periscopes, but she just said “...somehow. When I went to your house,” she chided to Dan, “There was no note!”

“Sorry about that...” Dan said scratching at his ear. Dammit that probably appeared in the show too even on three legs. “I had to help Elias he was in serious trouble.”

“Well that's what I figured. And that's why I'm here. Now where's Ricky?”

“We told you he's not here!” John protested.

“Where is he then? I know you guys are friends. I know he likes the... the pink pony. Holy fuck is he the one changing everyone into ponies?!”

“I just woke up this way,” Dan shrugged, sitting down again. “Finding Ricky might be the key to bringing this puzzle together though. He's not exactly the 'evil mastermind' type.”

Dawn sighed flopping down splayed legged. “Why did you have to drag me into this?”

Dan put a hoof up, pontificating “It must have had something to do with that deli we last met at. We should investigate there!”

“So you mean Alice too?” she moaned, “And what about the other customers?”

“Hey guys,” Pinkie John said motioning to the empty spot to the right of him. “Elias went into the TV room uh...”

The three followed Elias there with varying degrees of dexterity. Dan was actually kind of envious that John had walked all the way here. He practically owned that body the way he was moving. Hopefully it would be that easy for the rest of them.

Elias had the remote beneath her hoof, staring expressionlessly at what turned out to be the news. They could see the police sirens flashing in Elias's eyes before they could see the TV itself. Dan stopped, then John. Then Dawn ran into their butts “Hey!” shoving them aside to push through. Neither of them reacted though, and it become obvious when she muscled her way in to see the television set.

“Police are standing by” came the boring nasal newscast, in contrast to the stark gory scene laid out before them.

“I wonder how Ricky got that much whipped cream,” Dan mumbled.

“I didn't think trucks could stack that way,” John added.

There was Dan's house, or at least what was left of it, the front liberally covered in what looked like foam confectionary. Discounting the hole blown through the center with boards sticking out everywhere along the edge. The entire place looked like a madhouse really. The trucks were leaning on each other like dominos. It was almost comical if it wasn't Dan's goddamn freaking house!

With head in hooves Dan moaned, “Why,”

“...animal spotted fleeing the scene some form of pony with...” the rest of the newscast droned on, reporting like it was a kitten rescued from a tree. Dan didn't even listen to the rest, too worried about his property values plummetting. Something about a whipped cream delivery van fire hydrant, whatever.

“Elias, turn that off,” Dawn sighed, looking at Dan concernedly. “You OK Dan?” The John Pinkie next to him said worriedly, laying a hand on Dan's flank.

“I'm going to kill him!” Dan screamed the dust blowing off the floor as a reddish aura surrounded the pony. John jerked his hand back saying “Woah woah, Dan! You're glowing, stop it! You're uh... hot-blooded?” Dan's head jerked toward John then a tired relaxation covered it, “Yeah it's not that. I... I do that sometimes.”

Dan was still glowing even relaxed. It didn't go away for about a minute last time. Pushing aside those bouncy curly bangs Dan revealed what he had discovered about the pinkies. Coming from his forehead was a bright pink unicorn horn.

“Oh,” John said stunned. “So... you're not Pinkie Pie?”

“I don't know,” Dan chewed on his words, “I think we all are, but... not quite. It's like that episode with the oh for the love of god my house!” For the first time since the precipitous transformation, Dan started crying. Over such a silly thing too. But it had equity! Equity!

The Pajama Cat Incident

Four Pinkie Pies, Dawn, John, Dan and Elias gathered in a circle talking in urgent tones uncharacteristic of the pink party pony. Plotting might be too strong a word. To call this a plot would imply that there was something nefarious going on. Plots are not allowed under any circumstances, and certainly not when they develop into fully mature schemes. This was more like a discussion, a brainstorming let's say.

“OK so you're a unicorn,” John pointed out.

“Yes and before you ask I can't explain magic,” Dan answered.

“You don't need to explain shi-” John started before replacing his word with “immering force fields.”

“Is it like in the show for you, John?” Elias urged, “Are you compelled not to swear?”

“No it's like... I sound like Pinkie Pie. Do you ever want to hear Pinkie Pie cursing like a sailor?”

Elias quietly nodded. “I see.” Her Pinkie Pie was entirely different from the Pinkie Pie John knew from the show. Not to say it was exactly like Fluttershy had come to possess Pinkie Pie's body, but it was exactly like Fluttershy had come to possess Pinkie Pie's body.

“Elias, could you say the phrase Stay Outta My Shed?” Dan asked with a twinkling mirth popping up in Pinkie Pie's—in Dan's eyes.

“No,” was all Elias would respond with.

“Ugh, boys,” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Let's focus on what we know so we can figure this out and get on with my normal and your abnormal lives.”

“Uh Dawn,” John spoke up again.

“What?”

“We're all Pinkie Pie.” he said.

“In a manner of speaking,” Elias added helpfully.

“Brilliant deduction Holmes!” Dawn said acidly, though it came out as just tartly, with a bit of a bite, not unlike a twist of lemon. “Any other tidbits of wisdom you want to bestow on us?”

John nodded, gulping a bit. “Pinkie Pie is a girl.”

Dawn facehoofed, which actually doesn't involve whacking your face with a hoof so much as lowering your forehead onto said hoof safely and gently. “So?”

“So....... there are no boys here!” John uttered excitedly. Sort of excitedly. Throwing his hooves up. It made him look excited, right? Not terrified?

Dawn started to retort but then her Pinkie Pie looked like it just saw the headlights of an oncoming truck. “Oh,” she said, blushing furiously and moving to stare a hole into the carpet.

“Moving on then,” Dan muttered. She was the most comfortable of the four with this genderiffic development, but she would never admit that in a million years. “Whatever this phenomenon is, the only thing we all share in common, assuming Ricky also changed into Pinkie Pie,”

“I think that's a guarantee at this point,” Dawn muttered.

“So,” Dan went on, “Whatever it is the only thing we all share in common is BJ's Delicatessan!”

“That sounds about right,” Dawn agreed. “I was working the counter with Alice on the register, and Greg was in the back slicing meats.” John snickered at the way she sounded saying the word “meats.” “meats” should never sound so adorable coming from the mouth of a pony.

“SLICING MEAT,” her growly Pinkie Pie voice interrupted his reverie. Was her hair ever going to poof out? John suspected not. Maybe she needed a Rainboom or three.

“And Paul was stocking the vegetable trays,” Dawn continued. “The next shift didn't come until the evening I um... don't really know anyone on that shift.”

“What about all the customers?” Elias offered. “We weren't the only ones there.”

“And considering how much of the world knows about ponies,” John trailed off.

“Nobody else in that deli is likely to know who or what Pinkie Pie is,” Dan finished for him.

“Oh, what are we going to do?” Elias sighed, rubbing at her eyes with one hoof. She'd been through just about every emotional ringer known to man or ponykind, John suspected, if Elias's Pinkie Pie were anywhere near as anxiety prone as the show's Fluttershy. He laid a hoof across her back, hugging gently. “We'll get through this Elias,” he asserted, but Elias shrunk from his touch almost seeming a bit... angry?

“What about my school, and my internship, and my career,” she said in that same sad tone at which they'd all learned to love and despair. John didn't try to grab the distraught little pony, but thumped her on the back gently. It still provoked a squeak from her mouth. “Hey if they don't let you do any of that you can just sue for pony racism!”

“Pony racism?” Dawn blinked, then raised one eyebrow...eyeball... thing.

“Pony racism.” That was John's story and he was sticking with it. Elias just sat quietly not even sobbing or anything. John hoped she'd come out of her uh... fluttershell soon though, because he uh, they really wanted to help her.

“We need to go to the deli,” Dan stated out of the blue.

“Woah, where did that come from?” Dawn seemed to be genuinely surprised at the change in topic.

“I was trying to say that this whole time,” Dan said flatly, er, melodically, flat melodically. “We can worry about our personal problems later.”

“I wonder why you're a unicorn though,” John cut in. “Pinkie Pie is certainly not a unicorn! The universe would implode.”

“I think we're not really Pinkie Pie,” Dan said, “Just close to Pinkie Pie. Maybe we're turning into fan interpretations of Pinkie Pie? I know for a fact there are at least two blogs with a unicorn Pinkie.”

“Whatever, so how are we going to do this?”

“It's across town and in broad daylight,” Dan said, “So we'll have to drive. We can't wait until night because the dimension whatever thingy,” John laughed at that but Dan ignored him, “Could close or disappear. Every second counts here.”

“Also the other customers changed into Pinkie Pie too,” Dawn said.

“Exactly,” Dan agreed, “And where's the first place they'll go?”

“Ooh Ooh,” John squeaked “I know this one!”

Dan facehoofed. Actually she gripped the bridge of her nose and rubbed it exasperatedly, but it was basically the same thing as a face hoof.

“They went to Equestria!” John announced with gusto.

“No.” Dan responded.

“They went to their relatives' house!” John tried again.

“No.”

“They went to the deli!” John said in the same exaggerated excitement.

“No,” Dan blinked, “Wait, yes!”

Dawn snorted.

“There might be a lot of confused people...er... ponies at the deli, and as the only ones who know what's going on,”

“We don't know what's going on,” John whispered to Elias. Dan ignored him.

“We stand the best chance of cracking the case,” Dan finished. Wait no she was still going. “Dawn will  drive since she managed to figure out how and the rest of us can crouch below the windows. With luck even this bright pink uh... fur won't attract attention that way.”

“It's true,” Elias piped up, lifting her head again. “Nobody looks into cars. They're just cars, not people.” The way she described it seemed terribly sad for some reason. John wanted to hug the potatoes out of her really he did. But he mightily resisted, in the name of masculinity what shreds they might retain as pretty pink fillies.

“So let's get moving,” Dan barked, standing up. Well, slowly putting one hoof after another down until he was in a standing position. Elias seemed to stand up more easily. John having the most experience hopped up and promptly fell over screaming “Aaah Charlie Horse!”

Dawn managed too to rise while John wrapped his forehooves around the leg whimpering as the pressure and tension forced it to relax. Then John was the first one to stand up, and the best at it too!

Taking a quick look outside, Dan beckoned with his hoof. The four of them snuck outside as quietly as four clumsy humans gone pony could, but there was nobody in the other houses nearby, or any cars in any of the driveways. Really they didn't need to worry at all. Dan's concerns aside, Godzilla could walk through your average suburb in the midwest without anyone being around to see it during the day. But safe, and not sorry, the ponies reached the shabby beaten 4-door sedan.

Dawn and Dan got in pretty easily, but Elias seemed to have trouble getting up the threshold into the vehicle. Pushing her aside John planted his feet, er, hooves and announced, “Pinkie Pie, dedicated stairwell and elevator at your service!” Elias actually laughed a little at that. She seemed more touched than humored though. With no further ado she climbed up the improvised stairs from John to the sedan. Once safely inside, John leapt into it with a single bounce, then pulled the door closed with his tail.

It briefly occurred to John that a habit of this would really cut down on forgetting one's tail and getting it caught in doors.

Once inside Dan remarked, “Platform shoes? Really?”

“Quiet,” Dawn shushed. “I have an odd roommate.” Dawn had indeed taken a pair of platform shoes, and what looked like a dozen socks and a tangle of string and rubberbands and made what effectively amounted to hoof extenders. She could stick her hoof into where the foot would go and get enough leverage to hold them up (but not on) and use them to push the pedals.

“That's pretty brilliant actually,” Dan admitted. “Wish I'd have thought of that. I had to sneak here through backyards and shi-stuff” he finished at a withering glance from John.

“Aren't you a unicorn?” Dawn said, “Can't you move the pedals with your freaky telekinesis?”

“That's--” Dan kind of froze there, mouth hanging open. Wow. Someone upstaged Dan. John gained a newfound respect for Dawn.

The decision was made. Dan was driving. Under her stern and level headed guidance they reached their destiation without anything interesting happening at all or no they ran into a telephone pole.

“Dan what are you doing??” Dawn shrieked

“I'm having trouble accelerating!” she shrieked back, slowly crawling out from the light which had just turned green.

“You push down the pedal!” Dawn rebuffed hotly. John and Elias just clung to each other cowering in fear.

“I know!” Dan shot back, “It's just hard to ack” her horn flared and the car leapt forward, only the unicorn's fast reflexes keeping it from hitting the car in front of them, swerving instead to run directly into a telephone pole on the side of the road. The predictable sound of a radiator hiss punctuated the sudden silence. That was about when they noticed the police car pulling out of the drive through parking lot.

“Oh no a ticket trap!” Dawn shouted, diving underneath the glove compartment. It didn't work at all to hide the small pink filly though as her smooth shiny tail crowning a big fat rump just couldn't seem to squeeze under there. Dan revved the engine frutilessly.

“Dan, hide!” Dawn hissed.

“Hide?!” Dan hissed back, “He saw me wrap around a pole. We're sitting ducks!”

“OK guys every bone in my pink marshmallow body is saying we should run,” John uttered from the back, going for the door.

“We can't run it's the cops!” Dan moaned.

“No you're right,” John murmured. “It's the wrong time to run.”

Dan nodded. “We've got to respect the law or we're going to end up in jail.” The twitching of her eye and different sized pupils sort of belayed her calm tone, but she was staring forward fixedly, so there was no way anybody could see that.

Officer Hugh Bass approached the offending vehicle. He licked his lips at the delicatble commission this ticket was going to get him. The courts would throw the book at this flagrant traffic violation. He composed himself and strode up to the side of the vehicle lifting his notebook as the window rolled down to reveal a bright pink pony with big curly hair smiling at him beneficiently with comforting innocent eyes.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?” Dan said a bit too sweetly.

Officer Hugh Bass froze in place, unable to answer as his brain leapt out of his head and took a vacation to the beautiful shores of Cancun.

“OK...” came a lady's voice from the back seat, “Now!”

“Now what?” came another voice.

“Run! Now!”

The four ponies peeled out of the vehicle as the officer stood immobile, then some flickering of a predator's instinct awoke his paralyzed brain. “Stop, police!” he barked, climbing over the doomed vehicle to apprehend the ponies.

If he'd have thought about it, trying to outrun ponies is a bit of a lost cause. The important thing is however, that they hadn't thought about that either, and kept up a dead run down the street, screeching at the edge of a street corner before disappearing to the left in a blur of pink.

“We're going to jail we're going to jail,” Dan was chanting frantically. “Chill!” John said, “We're ponies we can't go to jail!”

“We're going to be glue we're going to be glue”

“NOT HELPING DAWN”

This probably would have continued indefinitely, but for a butterfly in Cancun. Flapping its wings mightily it set forth a chain of events that culminated in the failure of two very important clothes pins. Drifting gently down in the breezy late morning as the pink ponies charged closer, distantly but closer. Their speed matched perfectly with the clothing item, and soon the two in front were completely enveloped in blue and white striped pajamas.

“What the-” came a voice, either Dan or Dawn's it was impossible to tell and Dan shook her head vainly to dislodge the cloth, unable to disengage her legs from run like the fiery abyss of eternal torment mode. As she slowed John called out from behind “Don't stop!” because at that moment a police car turned the corner, its lights flashing ominously as it closed the distance to the ponies.

“Left! Lean left!” John shouted, trying to see over the flapping pajama legs. They turned left right onto someone's well manicured lawn, “Too left!” he yelled, “Right! Go right!”

Dawn and Elias ran into each other, trying to go different directions, the two thudding like neck and neck cars trying to run each other off the road.

“Too right!” John shouted to no avail as they curved around the lawn and ran directly into a wooden fence, coming to a crashing halt as the four piled together and the fence cracked under the sudden impact. As the ponies were struggling to right themselves the other consequence of hitting the fence at high velocity became apparent, that is to say a rather large tomcat who had been walking along the top was no longer walking along the top, but instead tumbling in a slow arc down from above, its tail rorating like a rotor to ensure all four of its big clawed paws were facing directly downward.

Dawn shrieked, jumping up and running blindly, The cat clinging to the pajamas covering her face. The other three shot after her, but with a head start and claws digging into her face Dawn was much too hard to pace. This might have ended in disaster had she not begun running down a very busy road in the wrong direction, somehow avoiding collisions with the cars and the surrounding beatific scenery of a sleepy downtown area. Police forgotten (and hopelessly lost at this point) John leapt into the air, this somehow propelling him forward fast enough to land on Dawn's back, producing another shriek from both her and the cat. Instead of jumping off, the cat started swiping at John with its free paw, and John stuck his hoof out trying to dislodge it from Dawn's face. It was working! Ignoring his pretty pink hoof getting liberally lined with red welts from cat scratches he managed to unbalance the cat enough that it went spinning (literally) off of Dawn's head and crashed into a nearby waste recepticle, upsetting the trash can and spilling used burger wrappers and beer cans everywhere. The cat was OK though, if dazed. No cats were harmed in the making of this scene. Straddling the running pony and with a flourish John swept the pajamas off of Dawn's face with his forehooves and announced “We're here!”

Dawn's four hooves stuck out stiffly, raising a cloud of dust as they skidded across the sidewalk. She would have missed running into the brick wall alongside the deli, but Dan and (surprisingly Elias (going “oh no oh no oh no” the whole time)) at full speed boosted her the rest of the way and the four ponies collided then met with the brick wall. There were no survivors, except for four ponies. Who all were Pinkie Pie for some reason.

“We're... here...” came John's dizzy but triumphant groan. As his consciousness faded above him he thought he saw Pinkie Pie standing over them worriedly, and then Pinkie Pie next to Pinkie Pie. Oh there's a third oh nighty night now.

The Bologna Battle Incident

Inside the deli was a confused mass of pink. There had to be at least a few dozen Pinkie Pies milling about. Some looked identical to the iconic mare, others with subtle differences. Four of them came back into the eating area proper, dragging the bodies of four other Pinkie Pies who had just had a close intimate encounter with the wall. They stood up groggily then stared with astonishment at the sheer amount.

“How has this diner not exploded yet??” John cheered jumping about 3 feet into the air with his hands on his cheeks. “I know!” said another Pinkie Pie they didn't know. “There's enough pink to drown the Taj Mahal!” “Can a building be drowned?” another one said. “Just because” said a fourth. Fifth? “Just because,” said yet another Pinkie in a Brooklyn accent, “we got changed into some hyper pink horse pig thing doesn't mean we're going to wreck the place.” As a matter of fact two Pinkies were not even excited but openly sobbing on each other's shoulder about losing their manhood no homo. Most just seemed to be milling or staring at each other uncomfortably. Every now and then someone would slip and fall over on uncertain legs and cheap linoleum tiles.

Elias was torn between running away and just dying, and was leaning towards the just dying part. Turning into Pinkie Pie had been bad enough, now she was surrounded! She backed up until her rump pressed up against the inner wall of the diner about the same time she noticed another Pinkie Pie huddled against the wall, this one with a straight mane. “Are you OK?” Elias asked softly. The other turned to look at her with scared eyes but didn't answer. After a few uncomfortable moments she put a hoof behind her ear. Elias didn't know sign language but oh. “Are you OK?” she asked again loudly. It didn't come out as more loudly though. Really she was just too scared of her own voice to talk above a whisper. It was no longer that soothing baritone, and while it remained very soothing, she didn't feel comfortable about having Fluttershy coming out of her mouth.

The other pony mouthed w-h-a-t putting the other forehoof behind her other ear, but Elias couldn't hear her, if she was audible. It was so terrible. Here they were in a situation where nopony talked much above a conversational level and she couldn't even make herself heard at point blank range. Summoning up her courage Elias yelled, “Are you OK??”

The delicatessan died to silence as Elias's voice rang out like a bell loud enough to make the windows shiver. Oh no, now everyone was looking at her. “Um... sorry...” she squeaked, shrinking down as far as her hooves would go. Which was pretty far considering she was smaller than most of the other Pinkies, but wasn't nearly far enough at all. Her savior turned to be the straight maned Pinkie she had been addressing this whole time, who stood up and shoved her butt in the way of the other Pinkies. “Yes I'm OK, thanks for asking,” she said in the sweetest voice. It was enough to make Elias feel like a sandpapery sailor, that voice, not whispery but just so very perfectly round and gentle. “I'm a little horse though,” the other Pinkie added as an afterthought.

“Oh that's—” Elias started right at the moment that every Pinkie in the room erupted into laughter. It was like a tactical nuke of funny. The nation of Funnia had all their funny in funny silos and the head funny man pushed the funny button covering the world in a cloud of funny. Seriously you don't crack a joke to a room full of silent Pinkie Pies and expect to have yourself heard for at least 20 minutes thereafter, quiet voice or no. Elias covered her ears, but the other Pinkie touched her hoof to the one on her right ear and she cracked an eye open. Besides that straight maned Pinkie Pie the others had totally stopped paying attention to her, either trying to outdo the joke to each other or bouncing around with an alarming amount of energy or getting distracted by the former two groups. She couldn't hear what the straight maned Pinkie was saying, but she had a smile on her face and helped Elias to her feet.

This new Pinkie Elias saw was a unicorn like Dan, but with her straight and slightly dimmer than bright hair the horn was very apparent. She tilted her head towards the glass door exiting the diner to the outside, and started walking there looking back at Elias. Relievedly Elias went to follow her.

John was too busy trying to summon Pinkiespace™ for the other Pinkies, to notice Elias and whatsername slip outside. Dan seemed to be arguing with several other Pinkie Pies about just what it meant to be Pinkie Pie and how they didn't know anything until they had seen the show. Both of them managed to notice however when a bright glowing dot of light started to expand in the air above the diner. Everypinkie noticed when it glowed brighter than the sun and expanded like a parting curtain revealing the outline of a very familiar Alicorn. No it wasn't Pinkie Pie.

“My Little Ponies,” the floating figure said as the glow began to dim, “There is no need to be afr—Why are you all Pinkie Pie?!”

Twilight Sparkle was hovering above the sea of Pinkies though her jaw seemed to be trying to drill its way beneath the sea of Pinkies. Astonishment was one thing that mare could pull off better than anyone. Of the Pinkies, Dan was the only one who cursed her fate for this being post-season-3 Twilight, since Elias was outside, Dawn had no idea what was going on, and John leapt up screaming “She'll explode you with her horn lasers! Run!”

Chaos cowered in the corner where Elias used to be. It wasn't even going to try to make sense of what was happened right then. But for the sake of completeness, 23 Pinkie Pies started screaming and either running for the door smashing through the windows diving behind the counter or under tables, or just travelling in confused circles (screaming).

“Please! There's no need to be afraid!” Twilight Sparkle yelled out to the bunches of Pinkies who were fleeing. She flapped over to the counter and alighted on it shouting, “Everypony listen to me! This is important!” stomping a princessly hoof in frustration. The answer she got (besides screaming) was a cold cut. A mortadella. That is to say, a hunk of large sausage made from cold dead pig flesh. It smashed into her hair and in pushing up the hair knocked her tiara right off. She stopped in shock, turning around slowly. There were four Pinkie Pies there hefting a large variety of lunch meats, unsliced. A capicola whizzed by her ear.

“What” she managed to say before the volley started in earnest. Twilight charged her horn up but it was too late for that. It was far too late for that. Knocked off the counter by a whole plucked skinned chicken and they were on her. The nightmares would haunt that little pony for many a fortnight afterwards, and all Luna could do was stand there perplexed at the throbbing walls of meat that closed in on Twilight. The corned beef was the worst. So much corned beef. It had been sliced beforehand, but did that matter? No it did not matter. Twilight felt corned beef dripping down her wings all over her tail and into unmentionable places (such as the small of her back (ha, see I mentioned it (off da chainnn))). There was literally nothing left of Twilight beneath the pile of minced ungulates. Her meatness was absolute.

At last the Pinkies ran out of things to throw down on top of the purple princess pony. “Did we get her?” one Pinkie asked the others. With a violet flash the pile of meat exploded outwards bowling over all four Pinkies, who probably shouldn't have been standing on two legs on the counter at the time. A furious Twilight Sparkle appeared looking ready to make good on the accusations of Pinkiecide, and no court would convict her. Stepping back to angle her horn up towards the counter, preparing to leap on it for battle advantage, Twilight stepped down hard on her princess tiara.

“PIIINKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”

Leaping up onto the counter was a furious Twilight Sparkle her wings unfurled horn crackling with power the bent tiara vaguely placed on her head and a swarm of floating cold cuts levitating behind her. Someone took this opportunity to jump onto a tub of mustard, the vile fluid spraying out towards the purple unicorn. Only her magic shield saved her eyes from experiencing unfathomable agony and she immediately hurled one of the bolognis through the air, striking whoever it was that created the arc of deadly mustard with a squeak. There was mustard all over her shield now though and she had to drop it allowing the mustard to splat harmlessly on the ground, which was just about when she noticed the stream of bright red ketchup heading straight for her face.

The sickly sweet paste was getting in her nostrils, distracting her from raising the shield again. She managed it though just as a jar's worth of pickles and brine smacked into it. Using magic to wipe away the ketchup from her face like a windshield wiper, Twilight pressed her advantage charging into the back room full of arcane and inscrutable sandwich making devices. There were no Pinkie Pie back here, at least none that could be seen. Twilight was sweating heavily by now, the strain of keeping so many spells going at once getting to her. She didn't let it show on her face though instead grinning pleasantly and spitting out through clenched teeth “Come out come out wherever you are~”

A squeak of fear alerted her to what appeared to be an insulated chamber even deeper into this sandwich complex. Behind it her see-through spell detected a pony quivering back in there. She dropped her shield so she could fiddle with the latch to this chamber, pulling it open with a hiss of cold air. “Ah HA!” she shouted accusingly. Pinkie had put a rolling shelf in between her and Twilight though and the moment the door opened the pink pony shoved the shelf over. Twilight caught the heavy metal row of shelves with her magic but as she did its contents continued to fall downward hurling straight for her!

Twilight was wincing, trying to maneuver around the rain of frozen meats chicken sausages and other sundry that might need chilling to stay fresh. The sausages kept beaning her in the face though, distracting her from holding up the shelf and bit by bit it toppled over until it pressed her and the various meats to the floor. Squeezing through between two of the shelves, Twilight managed to pop out from under there, hooves clattering on the shelf's metal frame as she stared intensely down at Pinkie... at the Pinkie. “Where are the others?!” she demanded to the whimpering pink pony curled up in a defensive curl. Pinkie stuck a hoof out pointing up and to the right of Twilight, not saying anything. Twilight looked back and only then did she notice that one of the cold cuts she had been levitating was actually a Pinkie, who grinned at her sheepishly and waved.

That was when the manager burst through the back door, closely followed by the kitchen workers. He stopped short at the sight of a floor littered with meat and condiments, shelves pushed out of the way or toppled over, the meat slicer not even cleaned properly and a big purple butt sticking out of the refrigerator. “What's going on here?” he demanded, not believing for a minute that the workers actually saw a swarm of pink ponies and not the large opening on top of a bong.

Twilight let the cold cuts drop to the ground and the one Pinkie she did have captured immediately bounded over the counter out of the diner. “Oh hello sirs,” she stated turning around, but the shelf she was standing on was too precarious so she ended up with her feet falling into it, straddling a shelf and looking up to the incredulous humans sheepishly. “There's a perfectly good explanation for this,” she stated unconvincingly, quickly realizing that this situation was getting out of control.

In his shock the manager had grabbed a ladle and was brandishing it defensively. “What... what... explain then!” he said trying to wrap his brain around what was going on.

“Well um...” Twilight kept smiling not at all awkwardly, thinking furiously. Then she pointed her hoof over his shoulder and shouted “Oh no, a manticore!” Her horn glowed and she winked out of existence right on the spot. Moments later she winked back in outside the store alongside one of its walls. She backed up against it gasping for breath. The sound of a car alarm echoed from the distance.

“This might not be as easy as you thought, Twilight” she said to herself abashedly.