Creepy Pie

(Narrated by Princess Cadence)

In loving memory of Mister Breezy. You endured so much. May you finally rest in peace.

Friday, August 30th, 2013

“Is Mister Breezy dead?”

“Anybody seen a Breezy update lately?”

“What happened to Mister Breezy? Did Pinkie get him?”

He got online later that night, but instead of starting anything up to let people know how he was doing, he just sat there and watched. After all the stress he went through with Pinkie Pie alone, he didn’t feel like dealing with anyone calling him a liar. Instead, he just watched people question where he was. Then he saw someone with a name he recognized from the night before. He wanted to just ignore it… but he felt like this person deserved to know.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m not dead,” he wrote in someone else’s thread.

“What happened since last night?”

“Any spooky updates?”

“You should make a new thread.”

“No way! I don’t exactly feel like people calling me a ruse man tonight.”

“Come on, Breezy. If anyone calls you a liar, we’ll tell them to leave. You need to update people and let them know what’s going on, though.”

“I… I guess I can do that, but if people start making me mad, I’m outta there. I’ve had enough to deal with already.”

“Thank you, Mister Breezy.”

He then began typing. Letter after letter, word after word, sentence after sentence, he created a new thread. The night had begun.

“Hopefully this will be the last thread. I wasn't going to do this, but some people wanted an update. Again, though, things I say WILL sound made up and even ridiculous at times. If I could just politely ask you, please try to have some courtesy tonight.”

“So, like I asked before, how are you doing? What happened today?”

“I'm starting to notice a pattern. The first day, things were nonstop hectic. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. The second night, I was able to eat a little and sleep a little, but the images and sounds, when they came, were much more vivid and horrifying. Last night, it was like, even during the times she wasn't there, I was in a constant state of paranoia, because I knew that when she came, she'd be her worst yet. I've also started seeing new images too. She's a skeleton this time with glowing red dots in the center of her eye sockets. It flashes between that and the image I described yesterday.”

“She just wants to have fun… forEVER…”

“I tried making friends with her last night. That laughing... I swear, it's starting to make me go insane.”

“It's kind of like you're expecting the images to be worse and worse. Try focusing on discontinuing that train of thought.”

“It's hard, anon, because once I forget about it, it makes the blow twice as hard.”

“Have you tried asking pink pony what she wants from you?”

“So many times...”

“Where is the toy at this point?”

“Right next to me. Same place as yesterday. That reminds me. I keep thinking back about that thread from a few nights ago. When I opened my window, it all of a sudden got windy and was knocking over my Pinkie Pie toy (which an anon pointed out in last night's thread). Then, when I closed the window, the wind just stopped out of nowhere. This stuff started happening before the ‘event’ that everyone is talking about.”

“Well you've already gone insane. Just embrace it. Who's to tell you if its real or not after all. It's only real if you believe it is.”

“Heh, with Pinkie, you never know what's real. Those hands, though, from my nightmare... those were real. No doubt in my mind those were real.”

“You should consider heading to the hospital and getting on some medication, if what you are saying is true. It’s not very beneficial for mental health in the long run to just deal with paranoid delusions.”

“I don't wanna be put in a mental hospital. Then Pinkie would be around all the time. Even with medication, she'd still find a way through.”

“This may sound stupid, but did you ask her why? Did you ask her to please leave you alone?”

“Yes. The laughing got louder.”

“If there is any truth to your story OP, have you tried burning the ponka to a crisp?”

“Don't listen to this faggot OP. That'll just piss her off.”

“Hear me out, if the Ponka is the source of ghost ponka’s power, then destroying the Ponka could result in ghost ponka’s demise.”

“Do you see her in your dreams?”

“Kinda. More like I'm not dreaming at all, but then I see her right in front of me screaming, keeping me from going too far into my sleep (at least when it's dark out).”

“OP, you gotta realize that stuff like this doesn't happen. It can't happen. You CAN'T be haunted by a ghostly figure from a cartoon show. That stuff doesn't happen. Do I think you're lying, though? No. This is obviously some form of mental breakdown. Please seek help.”

“How can you say that there are no ghosts, huh?! How can you say that?! A mental break down from what? It may not be Pinkie's actual ghost, but more like a ghost using that image and likeness against me. Remember, she knows my weaknesses.”

“Threaten to destroy the figure. Test her response. Then tell us.”

“Take my advice OP. Look her straight in her laughing faggot face, and burn the toy to a crisp.”

Breezy wanted to think about it, but the Pinkie Pie image jumped into his face again, along with its deafening shriek. He didn’t even want to entertain the motion, and instead just went back to writing.

“Pinkie keeps laughing at me, and it won't freaking stop!!”

“Try watching something funny if you’re creeped out.”

“You know what? I think I might be afraid to laugh. Every time I do, Pinkie scares me with something new.”

There were still people trying to laugh like in the other threads, but this time, people were coming to his rescue.

“M.B., we still believe in you. Besides, this thread might be our last time together! I still think you should get rid of it, M.B.”

“You mean get rid of the toy? I might give that a try. Maybe.” The image and shriek flashed again. “I just don't know what to do, because the last thing I want is to make Pinkie angry.”

“Quit enabling OP!”

“OP needs our love and support.”

“Quit enabling OP. Tough love. Intervention time.”

“Why don't you quit being a filthy nigger?”

“There are countless ways for you to support OP (that are not tough).”

Finally, Breezy was getting the support that he needed for the past few nights… Unfortunately, he was right about the pattern. The more good things that came, the harder Pinkie lashed back.

“My lights just turned off! My lights just went freaking off!” He then scrambled, checking practically electronic switch in his room. So far, everything else appeared to work just fine. As he sat back down, though, he couldn’t help but see the Pinkie Pie toy, sitting next to him, smiling. “It's just the lights. My TV and phone charger are still working. I'm gonna put this Pinkie Pie toy in a drawer somewhere. I don't want her next to me.”

“If you have a webcam, I suggest keeping it on and recording.”

Taking out his phone, he typed, “I tried that in the thread before last night and it didn't work. I can try again, but I don't know what else would come from it.”

“So leave your house and go see a doctor. You are hallucinating.”

“Calm down. Pick up the toy. Threaten her body. Make her fear you. She can't physically hurt you.”

“OP, please respond to me. Take my advice, grab the toy and the nearest lighter, look her straight in the eye, no matter how much it scares you, and burn that toy to a crisp. This whole hallucination thing has no power over you. It is YOUR hallucination! YOU control it!”

“Ḩ̵͙̙̖̗̫͇̭̗̟̳̣̰̻̦͉̬̺́͘͘Ą̴͈͇̣H̶̡͇͇̥͍̪̫̯̮͎͠͡Ạ̵̳̥̪̖͇̻̙͓̲̯̜̟̺͍̼̹̝H̳̝͇̀͝A̵̢̨͈̲̰͍͈̖̖͍̘̼̦̣H̱̭̤̹̜̟̰̝͙̞̯͇̖͉͚͚͘͞ͅA̪͖̜̘̦̦̖̣̫̝̤̩̪̮̺̩̕H͏̡̠̖͔͖̪̖̤͕͕ͅA̘̻̫̱̼̣͉̫̟͔̖̜̺̙̻͢͟H̷̨҉͎̤̭̰͍̫̤̮͉̘͈͉͚̖̘̘͖̥ͅA̵̧̨̜̣̗͈̠̼̤͠H̸̨͕̲̣͙̟͍̝͈̺͚̠̩̻̕A̵̵̩̳̜̠̥̰̱̞̬̺H̶̴̵̩̞̰̫̙͇̝͓̙͙͓̗̩̮̩͓̥͕̀͞Ą̷̶̳͙̳̞͓̹̼͎͟H̸̀͏̭͚͔̟̦͕̞̰̠͚̗̩̬̯̳͝ͅÀ͎̜̳̞̹͍̪̤̥͓̻̩̼͇̣͇͈͜ͅͅH̶̱̯̬͖̺̹̲̦̣͇̀͘ͅA̸҉͕͎̠̥͍̹̘̭͈̫͉H̵̶̢̲̪̳̰͎̦̀A̶͉͙͖̳̣̠͞͡Ḩ̴̛̫̥̺͓̖̜̙̘̣͚̺̹͍͓̦̠̘̟́À̛͏̶̺̹͙̘̘̮̰̬̺̝H͜҉̧͓͓̮̭̩̱̲͎̜͓̠̞̩͢A̷҉̧͎͈͈̫̥̲̫̯̰̭̱ͅH̸̸̨̝̘̳̰͖̫͚́Á̡̛̯̼̮̬͢͝H̡̝͎̳͙̤͎̝̲̙͇̀A̷͡͏̢̞̱̯͈̺͖̬””

Pinkie wasn’t just coming in flashes anymore. It was like whenever Mister Breezy saw someone post any advice or support or anything in general, she would come back. It was like she was there the whole time, never giving him a second to catch his breath.

“Threaten it! MAKE HER FEAR YOU!”

“Medical attention!”

“No! Try to be more loving!”

“Go see an ER. Tell them you are having a psychotic episode with open eye hallucinations. The works. Mention that it's your first time.”

“K, so I'm putting the toy in the drawer right underneath my computer. I'm emailing a picture right now so there will be proof.”

“Yeah, let's imprison it. That's gonna end well.”

Upon taking the picture, Pinkie’s voice was beginning to completely deafen him. If it was hard for him to think before, it had now become impossible.

“Guys, the laughing is getting louder. It's getting louder!!”

“Shut the drawer and look Pinkie straight in the eye and go into a staring contest, no matter how scary it is.”

“Is it coming from a source? Does covering your ears lower it?”

“Take a deep breath, OP. We're here for you.”

“Take it out of the drawer and just keep it near you.”

“SMASH HER WITH A HAMMER NOW!”

Mister Breezy, however, didn’t get to see these messages for another 6 minutes.

“Now the computer turned off! I'm on my phone right now. Having a hard time breathing.”

“Maybe you should go outside and get some air, also could it be one of your roommates messing with the power?”

“My roommates aren't home. The place is empty. I tried asking what it wants... I'm more scared now than ever. MAKE IT STOP!!!”

He then grabbed the drawer, yanked it open and picked up the Pinkie Pie toy, ready to throw it out the window. The second he did, though, a lifelike Pinkie, looking horrified appeared in front of his face, screaming so loud that he fell onto the floor. The toy was now just inches from his hyperventilating breath. Getting up, though, he saw more than just a toy… It was the ghost... It was her... Pinkie Pie, looking just like she did in the cartoon, staring at him with saddened eyes.

“KILL HER, BREEZY! YOU NEED TO DESTROY THE TOY! YOU HAVE TO DO IT!”

“Don't do it, OP. Things will quickly go downhill if you try to destroy it.”

“OP is helpless. He will not listen to the millions of anons screaming to destroy the doll. OP can now go insane and wind up crying in a corner for all I care.”

Mister Breezy then began typing on his phone, crying as he did so. “I just picked it up and it started screaming right in my ear. I see her. She's mad. I don't know what to do, but I love you guys so much. Please remember that.”

“Keep your breathing at a normal pace. Don't hyperventilate. Stay calm, for your own sake.”

“Stay calm and remember that it can't do anything to you. Remember that!”

8 minutes later…

“Hey M.B., you there? You're not dead right? Hello? OP?”

“I tried telling her to stop. It didn't work.” He looked down at the toy, then returned to typing, taking longer than it should have with his shaking fingers against his phone. “The only way I have to get rid of it is with a knife. Is this really what I have to do?”

“Threaten it first, to be sure. If you feel it's what you must do, then butcher it. Stomp it. Light it on fire. Anything you gotta do, man, do it! You got this, man! Be strong! Flex that willpower!”

“She's telling me that if I do it, she'll kill me... Let's find out. I've gone through so much Hell lately that I'd rather die than keep this up. Guys... I love you so much. Thank you all for being here. I'll be back in a sec.”

He then left his room, walked into the complete darkness of his apartment, stumbled his way into the kitchen and felt around until he found what he was looking for:

A butcher’s knife.

“We love you, OP.”

“Do what you must OP. Just never let go...You can do it OP. You are strong. You have made it this far; you can go even farther. Whatever you are going through, whatever dementia you or any of you is battling, we are here to help. We are not the average board of 4chan. We will not give horrible advice. We are here to help you. You can make it OP. We have faith in you. Don't let go.”

He went back into his room and looked the ghost of Pinkie in the eye, switching between her gaze and the toy. Pinkie didn’t move, but instead just shook her head.

“Come on guys! All I really need’s a smile, smile, smile, from these happy friends of mine! Sing along!"

Mister Breezy grabbed the toy and began cutting at its throat. Despite all the shrieking, all the images that were flashing through his eyes and ears, he still continued to do it. Finally, its head was gone, lying on the floor apart from its body. Mister Breezy then got on his knees and began to cry.

“No… No… I did it... But she's still here...”

Looking up from the ground, he saw Pinkie, less than an inch from his face.

“She's laughing louder. Her figure is just like the regular cartoon Pinkie Pie now. She keeps telling me how much fun she's having.”

He then felt something grip his throat, not on the outside... but on the inside of his neck itself. He quickly grabbed his phone and began typing, trying to get out one last plea for help.

“I CAN'T BREATHE!!”

Silence…

“Breezy? You have to be here.”

Silence…

“The ride cant end... Not like this...”

Silence…

“I think OP is really gone… We tried, OP…”

Silence…

“Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun.”