AUTHOR'S NOTE
Whether you have faith in anything or question the cosmos, you will be be offended, insulted, or disheartened by this piece at some point. You have been warned.
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Blissful Diane Sundae could not have been more excited. It was spectacular. The best party she’d ever attended, and to her pleasure, the best she’d ever organized. The princesses had picked her, the greatest party organizer, planner, and patron, in all of Equestria. She’d worked on the ballroom for weeks, trying out different themes and the like, and tonight the fruits of her labour would be seen by all the ponies attending the gala. The ‘Great Galloping Gala,’ mind you.
Of course, she wasn’t at the gala just yet. Her mane wasn’t ready. The caramel locks were all straight and droopy, and she just couldn’t let anybody see her like that. Blissy was having them curled professionally, of course, by a white mare much like herself. Only in appearance, she was probably the farthest thing from her fun loving self as she could get. So stuck-up . . . she couldn’t remember the mare’s name, and it didn’t occur to her that she could ask for it. Didn’t matter, though. She’d be a little late for the gala, but she wasn’t going there for the opening ceremonies, and surely not many other ponies were either.
It was past 10:00 when she finally got there. Any pony that was too tired to party into the night had already left, which was perfect. Blissy entered the well lit ballroom, looking at all the party-going faces. They were all so happy, but none could be as happy as she was right then. She hadn’t ever worked on a party with so many ponies attending before, and it was appropriate that her best would host the most. It was all the more appropriate that the best party would be the last.
Last, why would it be the last . . . ?
Her eyes were drawn to a light blue unicorn across the hall. He was looking desperately at a mass of balloons tied to the end of one of the refreshment tables. He moved his hooves around in the threads anchoring the strings, like he was trying to bring them down to his level. Failing, he let out a sad little sigh, and hung his head below his shoulders.
Blissy wasn’t one to let any pony frown, not when she was around. She approached the colt with a caring smile.
“Hello, I noticed you were looking pretty sad, and we can’t have that!” she said. The unicorn met her eyes with a face that looked like it was just about ready to cry. “The . . . the balloons . . .” he replied, before he really did begin to cry.
“Do you want one?”
“Ye-yes . . .” he said between choked sobs.
Blissy took hold of a string with her hoofs and cut it from its binding with her teeth, just over a meter away from the balloon it was attached to. She handed it to the colt. His face lit up with joy. And what he did next, she did not expect.
POP!
The unicorn had dragged the balloon down to his horn, and promptly stabbed it. He turned from the remains to Blissy. With some hesitation, he said “Thank you so much, uhhhh, do you think you could get me another?”
. . .
“No.” Blissy said bluntly, accompanied by a hiss. She turned away from the stallion.
“Oh . . .” he said, whimpering.
For a while, Blissy had forgotten about the unicorn. Hours went by, the party kept on going. It was only after midnight that she realized everyone was leaving. Of course, that didn’t mean the party had ended. There were still at least twenty or so ponies left, and that was fine. What wasn’t fine, was the colt still trying to pop her balloon assemblage.
“Stop that!” she shouted to him. But he didn’t. He finally managed to get them low enough to stab with his horn, and did so. And he didn’t stop. He went about the room, grabbing every grouping of the inflatables and popping them the moment they were within his horn’s reach. Blissy stood in the middle of the hall, gaping.
It was then, that the princesses arrived. Laughing. In her rage, Blissy thought it was the actions of the gray unicorn that prompted their cheery demeanor. They were supposed to be enthused by HER work, not this buffoon’s . . . tomfoolery . . .
She would not stand for it. Stomping, she made movements for the unicorn, but before she could get anywhere near him, a white hoof was outstretched before her. It was the mare from the salon. At this time, Blissy remembered her name.
Well, OF COURSE I’d remember the name, she was my sister!
“Diamante?” she asked, a little disconcerted by her appearance. The mare nodded.
“Bluh-D, I saw what happened earlier. He’s not hurting anypony, just let it go.” the other pony said.
“But, the party-”
“The party ended twenty minutes ago. The only ponies left are here to clean up. Come on, it’s time to go home.”
Blissy sat there for the longest time, looking between the polished floor, Diamante, and the gray colt. “Alright.” she finally responded.
On the way back, she could not take her thoughts off the unicorn. She had a resolve, to make him pay. She didn’t believe the party had ended properly, or more to the point, she believed the balloon popping bastard had been it’s curtain call. The princess’s laughs would not leave her head, fully associated with the pops and paps of her decorations demise. Once in the respite of her own home, she began to plot his.
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Shink.
Oh, no, please, no.
"How do you like being popped!?"
Oh Celestia, what have I done?
Lying in front of Blissy was the pony that she presumed to have ended her party; dead, judging by the knife jutting from his ribcage. Blissy herself wasn't doing very well either, bleeding profusely from several holes made in defense by the unicorn. Her white coat was mostly red at that point.
Oh, Bluh-D, why . . .
Blissy tried to make her leave, but as she opened the front door to the stallion's house, something blocked her path. Something big, and white.
"Blissful Diane Sundae, what have you done?" Princess Celestia said in a demanding tone.
"I, I . . ." Blissy stammered.
"Where is Pokey Pierce?"
"He, I . . ."
The princess regarded Blissy with a look of understanding. In a lowered, kinder voice, she said "You brought this on yourself." She reared up on her hind-legs, and then Blissy's world exploded.
Short first chapter. Big second chapter. Short third chapter. Big chapters from then on.
