Junebug's Special Party

by Chocolate-Mint Swirl

Rating: mature
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other
Length: 1063

Pinkamina invites Junebug over for a super special party.

A first person story from Pinkamina's perspective as she throws a party for Junebug. Placed in a similar timeline to Cupcakes and other assorted fanfictions.
Originally posted on my Tumblr http://pinkaminashorrorbusiness.tumblr.com/ posted here to get more readers.

Published 2012-03-19 02:54:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-19 02:54:02 UTC

Chapter 1

Ready to hear about the most fun and amazing party ever?!

So Junebug finally arrived around 6pm wearing the most gleeful smile and cheerful expression on her face, I could tell she was almost as excited as I was for tonight to begin. “What are we going to do first, Pinkie?” she asked, “Well first, we are going to bake some delicious treats, how does that sound?” Immediately as I responded, her previous glow of excitement and joy quickly faded to a dull disappointed frown to which I casually replied “Don’t worry, Junebug, I’ll be doing most of the work and we can have still fun while baking. Making sweets is super easy and baking with a friend is a lot more fun than doing it alone.” With that, I could tell that she was already impatient to begin our fun evening. “Junebug, would you be so kind as to do me a favor? It’s a simple taste test.” I then opened the pantry, bought out a small tray of brownies, and motioned for her to take one. As soon as the oblivious mare took a bite, she was out cold and tumbled onto the kitchen floor.

I watched as her eyes opened and her mouth went agape in a mixture of shock, fear, and confusion. Like most other lucky ponies that end up down here, I could tell she was still groggy from the sweet treat I gave her to get her down here quietly, so I decided I would quickly explain where she was and what was going to happen. Unfortunately before I could get a word out the scared and now crying Junebug started babbling on asking pointless questions such as “Where am I? Why can’t I move? What are you going to do?” so I grabbed a towel and stuffed it in her mouth or else I would never get a word in otherwise. “Junebug, you are restrained on a table in the basement of the Sugarcube Corner; as for what you and I are going to do this evening, you and I are going to be baking.” I then took the towel out of her mouth, dabbed her still teary eyes, and placed the towel back on the smaller table filled with my knives, cutting tools, and other assorted objects. “Why am I restrained to the table?! Why can’t we go back upstairs and make treats the normal way?! I don’t understand all of this Pinkie.” “Because, how could I use my tools if you were squirming around and trying to flee? I would miss and cut something wrong or miss which would cause a huge mess. “Please Junebug, enough interruptions or else we will never get started.”

I then grabbed one of the smaller knives from my tray and proceeded to remove her cutie marks—you see, readers, I collect the cutie marks of every pony that comes down here so I can remember the fun time we had, and to make sure they are never forgotten; even after their own family stops weeping for their missing loved one and eventually forgetting them. I then began to cut away the flesh around her flank in a circular shape to make sure I do not accidentally nip her cutie mark. Though as soon as I begin cutting, the restrained earth pony begins wailing and sobbing at the quick realization that this is actually happening and the pain from the knife as I continue to peel away her skin from her remaining muscle and tissue. I place the beautiful piece of skin on the table as I then gleefully trot over and begin the same process to her other side while the bleeding mare then begins another round of wailing and screaming. The screams from these ponies does not bother me much anymore, I actually find the more screams and response I receive while working actually makes it all the more enjoyable.

So with both of her gorgeous cutie marks removed, I then go ahead to begin the main event. I look up at Junebug’s face, her bloodshot and teary eyes meet mine and I exclaim “This is nothing personal against you Junebug, it’s just that your number came up and I’m not one to deviate from the number system. Now, why don’t you stop your sobbing and wailing and I begin the mane event?” I never did get a response from her as I picked up a much longer knife and sliced a line from her chest down to her lower stomach which elicited much more screaming and panic from the mare. I then cut two horizontal lines perpendicular to the much longer vertical line on both ends, which made a sort of skin-flap so I could remove her internal organs. I grabbed a small scalpel from the tray and slowly flipped open Junebug’s now bleeding chest cavity, to which the mare began to scream once again yet fainted due to the pain and possible blood loss. Seeing as we lost time due to her pointless questioning at the beginning of our session, I didn’t even bother for her to wake up so I could begin to harvest the organs properly; I simply reached in with my scalpel and free hoof and slowly began to remove her organs one-by-one and place them into my bucket. I decided to work my way from her pelvis upwards so I first removed her womb and ovaries, then I started to pull her intestines up from her abdomen, and from this point on Junebug’s life quickly began to slip away due to shock and blood loss. Nevertheless I continued with her stomach, pancreas, and the last organ I removed was her heart which confirmed her to be a deceased pony. I then placed all of these organs into the bucket and began to plan out the baking and cooking process as I cleaned up after our wonderful party session.

Junebug unfortunately passed away in my eager harvest, so that we never got to say goodbye after the wonderful party I made for her. Well at least I now have some wonderful and delicious sweet treats to remember her by, as well as her framed cutie marks that now hang by the other very lucky ponies that are brought down here for a party.

With love and sugar,

Pinkamina Diane Pie