Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and Rarity were gathered at the library, which Twilight had shut for the afternoon. They were making use of an unusual opportunity to share their worries about their pink friend, who was minding the Cakes’ twins, Pound and Pumpkin. She wasn’t going to be bursting in suddenly, so they’d have to have this conversation now. Applejack and her family were pruning the North Orchard, which was going to involve a lot of cleanup after a violent storm.
Rarity sniffed as she levitated an elegant teacup towards herself. “If you ask me, that was not the behavior of a gentlecolt, leaving her at the station like that without so much as a by-your-leave.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Spike said proudly as he carried a plate of cakes to each mare in turn. “It’s part of the Noble Dragon Code: never leave a lady in distress.”
“Are you sure it isn’t “never eat a lady in distress? Never mind, Spike,” Twilight hedged, as Spike glowered at her. “I’m kidding. We know you only eat gems. Point taken: you’d never just have run off and left one of our friends like that.”
“None of us would,” Rainbow Dash snarled around a mouth full of cookies, “and I’d like to know what kind of pony did.”
~~
The first indication that something was wrong came early in the morning, the day after Dash’s birthday party. On the day after a Pinkie party, ponies would be tired but happy, yawning and wishing each other a good morning. This morning, quarrelling started before the market even opened, as the fruit and vegetable sellers jostled for places and snapped at each other to look where they were going. The vendors at neighboring stalls argued over five inches of boundary space in areas that they’d shared for years. They turned their annoyance onto their customers, who found prices abruptly marked up for no apparent reason at all. They snarled as they placed their groceries into their saddlebags, snarled at the customers still waiting in line, and trotted off to find some more company for their misery.
At the schoolhouse, Miss Cheerilee had trouble keeping order. Diamond Tiara chose the few minutes before the opening bell to harass Scootaloo about her undergrown wings. Scootaloo stood there, face unmoving, then replied calmly, “My wings may grow, but you’re never gonna outgrow the ugly.” A minute later, the schoolyard was decorated with orange pinfeathers, purple and white strands of mane, Apple Bloom’s hair ribbon, dented jewelry, and filled with the wails of Diamond Tiara complaining that she’d tell her Dad on everypony. Nopony was seriously hurt, but Cheerilee could tell as she looked out on the frizzy mane of Silver Spoon and the icebagged face of Apple Bloom that the day’s lessons were a dead loss.
By the time school let out, the word had gotten out: nopony had seen Pinkie since the party, or rather, everypony felt that she wasn’t there. There hadn’t been such a massive wave of bad moods since those five critical cutie marks had been switched, sending Pinkie Pie off on her short, disastrous career as an apple farmer while a nervous Fluttershy did her best to take her place. Some ponies talked of forming search parties, other muttered about how hopeless searching would be, until Rainbow Dash lost her temper and announced that she didn’t care what anypony else did: she was going looking for her missing friend and nopony was going to stop her. Applejack immediately declared she would do the same. Everypony felt it: the eerie, definitive absence of laughter. They felt it until the following evening, when just at dusk, the cross-Equestria freight car stopped for a few minutes in Ponyville. Only a few ponies saw a jittery Cheese Sandwich jump out of the train with Pinkie Pie, lay her on the bench, say something to the stationmaster, and jump back into the boxcar before the train pulled out of the station.
The Cakes were immediately alerted, and they raced off to the station to collect a sleepy Pinkie Pie. She appeared to be completely calm, unhurt, and relaxed except for an inexplicable tic in her hind leg. She asked the Cakes how long she’d been away, nodded, and walked back to Sugarcube Corner with them. Once there, she climbed the two floors to her bedroom, got her talking Ponyacci doll from the top shelf of her cupboard, and slept for two days. On the third day, she got up and went on about her business as though nothing had happened, and that was all anypony ever knew about it.
~~
“She hasn’t been the same since,” Twilight said, frowning, and waited for her three other friends to agree with her.
“It is beyond question that Pinkie Pie has not been herself,” agreed Rarity, delicately sipping her tea. “She has been distinctly odd.”
“How can you even tell?” said Dash incredulously. “This is Pinkie Pie we’re talking about. Turkey-call-award-winning, wall-climbing, balloon-headed Pinkie Pie. She rings bells with her head. How do you know what the new normal even is? She’s so random.”
“AHA!” exclaimed Twilight, slapping her hoof on the table and making everypony jump. “That’s not true. Pinkie Pie has distinctly predictable patterns of randomness.” She levitated a giant roll onto the table and unfurled a huge chart full of multi-colored graphs, criss-crosses, astrological charts, weather records, and inset with scribbled copies of Pinkie’s crayoned notes and attempts to translate them in Twilight’s neat writing. “See? I’ve been taking notes on her for years. The implications are obvious.”
What was obvious, her friends thought, was that Twilight’s obsessive determination to make sense out of the conundrum that was Pinkie Pie still left her baffled, and that the chart was taking up a lot of room and covering the cookies, but nopony wanted to say anything. “Spike? Would you get a quill and a scroll and take a note? Let’s make a checklist of anything different we’ve noticed about Pinkie since her disappearance. I’m sure that once we combine our observations, I can come up with a hypothesis to cover all the salient facts.”
“Well,” said Rarity, placing her teacup on a side table, reclining back on the sofa cushions, and narrowing her eyes as she attempted to recall, “I’m sure this seems absurd, my dears, but if anything, she seems a bit more confident to me. Do you remember how she sounded before the Ponyville Festival announcement? She was quite sure that her skills as a party planner made her an ideal choice as organizer. She knows she’s skilled, and she knows it’s a skill worth having. Even not being selected did not faze her one bit. She knows that she is –how shall I put it?—a master of her craft. It’s unmistakable to me, artisan to artisan.”
“Artisan. . . to . . . artisan. . . got it, Rarity,” Spike said, as he finished writing down every word she’d spoken.
Twilight looked next at Rainbow Dash, who had become a bit restless and was hovering on her back, just because she could. “Dash?”
Dash righted herself. “Me? Yeah, I dunno about sane and balanced Pinkie Pie. She just seemed like that because somepony was outdoing her in the crazy category recently.” Rarity glared at her. “I’m telling you, she’s busier than ever these days, but she still makes time to go for a swim with me or something fun once in a while. She is having twice the number of Pinkie Sense fits she usually does. Maybe three, four times the number. Some of them were what she calls “doozies.” Before, she usually knew what they were about. Now, most of ‘em, she’s got no idea. Usually she’s fine right afterwards, but I went to Sugarcube Corner one afternoon and the kitchen walls were covered with batter, floor to ceiling. There were broken bowls and cups everywhere. I helped the Cakes snap her out of it. She was breathing hard, and she was not fine. And I want to know what or who is doing this to her, and when I find out, I will end him.”
Spike had stopped writing and looked over at Twilight, raising his eyebrows. She sighed. “Just put down ‘alarming Pinkie Sense attacks, accompanied by violent blustering by Rainbow Dash.’”
“Blus-ter-ing,” Spike muttered as he wrote. “Got it.”
“Fluttershy, what’s your opinion?”
The yellow Pegasus glanced down at the floor, demurring. “Oh. . . don’t ask me what I think. I’m sure everypony is right.”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking everypony, I’m asking you. What do you think? Remember, we can’t help Pinkie if we don’t all work together.”
“What I think? Well, all right.” Fluttershy took a deep breath. “Pinkie makes me a bit nervous sometimes, but I know she cares about me enough to tell me the truth when I need it, and I think maybe we all still feel very bad and very guilty about how we treated Pinkie Pie on Dash’s birthday, and we blamed ourselves when she went missing, only we don’t want to admit it. So we’re trying to blame everything on Cheese Sandwich, because he’s not here. I think we should go to Pinkie and tell her that we’re all very worried about her and hug her and ask if we can help. But . . . um . . . that’s just me,” she said quietly, and gulped. “I’m sure I must be wrong.”
Dash looked simply furious. “I told her right out I was sorry. I don’t know what her disappearance has to do with me. Oh, all right,” she sighed, and dropped back to the ground. “I was worried sick and angry at myself. Stupid Dashie hurts Pinkie’s feelings all over again. But what I say still goes. When I find out what or who is doing this to her, I will end him.”
Twilight asked Spike to read back his notes. “ ‘. . . I . . . will . . . end . . .him.’ That’s all I’ve got,” Spike stated, finishing his report.
“Hmm,” said Twilight, thinking out loud. “You may have a point there, Fluttershy, but I don’t think asking Pinkie is going to help. If she wanted to tell us what was going on, wouldn’t she have told us by now? Pinkie talks about everything, but if she thinks her mouth should stay shut, it stays shut. All we’ve got to go on is that she’s a bit more confident, she’s having a lot of Pinkie fits, and she’s keeping a secret.”
“Oh, and she’s playing a lot with that doll,” Dash shot in.
“Which doll? Her talking Ponyacci doll?” Twilight asked eagerly.
“That’s the one,” nodded Dash. “Actually, she’s letting Pound and Pumpkin play with it. Pound is pounding the hay out of it, but she doesn’t seem to mind.”
Twilight waved to indicate that everypony should be quiet while she thought. She pressed both hooves to her temples and knitted her brows, muttering to herself. Finally she dropped her hooves and sighed.
“I’m sorry, everypony. I can’t think of anything, other than that Pinkie must have left with Cheese Sandwich for some reason after the party. She told the Cakes she couldn’t baby-sit, didn’t she? She must have known she was going, and she seems completely unhurt, so all we know is that she went off with him, he brought her back, and he disappeared.”
They all looked at each other. How many times had they all dropped everything to go on an important journey and do something that had to be done? Plenty of times. The difference was that none of them had been with Pinkie this time.
“So really,” Dash said hesitantly, “he didn’t do anything we wouldn’t have done. Does this mean I don’t get to hate him now?”
“I don’t want you to hate anypony, Dash,” Twilight replied, “but just dropping her like that was still a big risk. You know how Pinkie gets when she thinks somepony is leaving her. She thinks once they’re out the door, they’ll abandon her forever. You remember how she behaved when Fluttershy took a day trip—she was racing down the track after her. She stood by the mailbox for days waiting for your letter when you were at the Wonderbolts Academy. And that’s when she’s already been told exactly why her friend is leaving and exactly when she’ll be back! This is a hundred times worse. She could have been a mess.”
“Yeah, she coulda been. She shoulda been. I dunno. Meh,” Rainbow Dash said, shrugging. “She must not have liked him very much.”
They all agreed that this must have been the case.
The door slammed open, and Applejack appeared framed in the doorway, dusty and blowing hard.
“Twi, we got a situation in the North Orchard. You got time? ‘Cause this is sort of an emergency.”
“Of course, Applejack,” Twilight said, rolling up her Pinkie Pie chart and depositing it neatly on her desk. “We’ll all go, if we can. What is it? Is it the vampire fruit bats again?”
Fluttershy opened her mouth to begin a passionate defense of the bats, but before she could get started, Applejack cut her off.
“Not the bats, no,” said Applejack. “It’s sorta hard to explain.”
The North Orchard stretched above Applejack’s barn and farmhouse, connected by a dirt road that led to the train station. The Apples found it was more convenient to pack the apples in the orchard and haul them straight to the freight cars, which would take their premium apples to restaurants and markets all over Equestria. As the five friends trotted briskly through the orchard, Twilight began noticing junk that Applejack and Big Mac would never have allowed to accumulate. Broken barrels, damaged crates, party horns, streamers---
Party horns? Streamers?
---balls of every size, hats, cages of white mice, looking thoroughly annoyed, punch bowls, parcels and piñatas. The mess became more thickly distributed, and ended in a pile. Sitting in the center of the pile, and surrounded by a broken-down cart, sat a very discouraged-looking Cheese Sandwich. Applejack marched up and glared at him.
“Listen up, mister,” she said. “I want you to tell me what in tarnation you’re doin’ in my orchard, and – and what you’re doin’ in my orchard, and –what all that stuff is, and why it and you are here in the first place.” She nodded sharply. Before Cheese could sort through all this, Rainbow Dash darted in front of her and hovered directly in front of him, eye to eye.
“To hay with that,” she snapped. “What I wanna know is why you left and what you did to Pinkie Pie.”
Cheese brought his head up with a start, looking extremely worried. “Pinkie Pie? Is there something wrong with Pinkie Pie? Is she all right?”
“Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” said Twilight, stepping to the front of the group as the others fell back. Rainbow growled, but darted up and hovered just a bit higher as Twilight approached Cheese Sandwich. “That’s an interesting question, but we have a few of our own. You’re in Applejack’s orchards, and I think she has the right to know what you’re doing here.”
The tall lanky brown stallion hesitated. “I was on my way to ask for Pinkie Pie’s help,” he admitted, “but I didn’t quite make it. Would you go and ask her if she would come here, please? The cart’s not going anywhere, and I’m not sure I am, either.”
Rarity trotted up to survey the mess with distaste. “I must say, I don’t know whether we ought to fetch Pinkie Pie or not,” she sniffed, with a toss of her elegant purple mane. “I absolutely agree, however, that you shouldn’t attempt to enter Ponyville right now. You look dreadful, and you are far from popular.”
Three ukuleles slid off the back of the cart and broke with a sproinnnng. Cheese sighed. “I was wondering about that, and I probably deserve it, but if you don’t believe me, you’ll never believe me if I told you what happened and where we went. I wish you would ask her to come, though. I need her help with this.”
He pulled a large cloth covered thing towards them, using his full strength and bracing himself with his puffy tail. Whipping the cloth aside, he revealed a spherical object, slightly larger in diameter than he was high, with a burned out hole marring one side. A destroyed fuse nestled into it, flush with the surface. “It’s my party bomb,” he said mournfully. “I know it doesn’t seem important to you,” he added, as Twilight rolled her eyes, “but I think Pinkie would think that it’s important, and nothing has gone right since it was wrecked. The Great Ponyacci helped me design it. I don’t think there’s anypony in Equestria who can help me fix it but Pinkie.”
“Ponyacci?” Dash cut in. “Isn’t that Pinkie’s favorite clown?”
Cheese nodded. “Was,” he corrected her. “He was her favorite clown. Mine too. Everypony’s, really.”
“Hmm,” said Twilight. “Let’s take a look at this.” Her horn began to glow purple, but Cheese stepped between her and the burned-out party bomb.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” he said, adding "Miss Sparkle," as an afterthought. “I’m sure you mean well, but I’ve already had one magical unicorn tinkering with it, back in Seaddle. That’s probably how it happened in the first place.” He drooped his head and nosed the party bomb. “She just couldn’t resist trying to find out how it worked, I guess. It’s too bad. I could have told her not to bother.”
Twilight scowled. “A blue unicorn? Purple hat, purple cape? Did she say anything about how Great and Powerful she was?”
Cheese stopped rubbing his face against the burned out device, surprised. “I think so,” he said. “Why, is that important? I don’t think anypony actually asked her to help run the party—she just showed up. Some impressive fireworks, too. Anyway, I lit it, and –what’s that called? When an explosion goes in reverse?”
“You mean an implosion?”
“I mean a mess,” Cheese said with fervor. “I got sucked straight into the bomb. Inside out, too—sort of uncomfortable. I wasn’t hurt,” he added, seeing their expressions of horror. “At least, not badly. I’m practically rubber anyway. But I was wedged in pretty solidly with all the stuff inside and it took a while to kick my way back out. It put a real damper on the party. A lot of the Moms in the crowd were horrified, although I hear the fillies and colts were impressed and were hoping I’d do it again. Anyway, the party was over. It didn’t look good, but I figured I’d just fix it as soon as I got on the road. I should have known that I was in big trouble as soon as I couldn’t put it away.”
“Excuse me?” said Fluttershy, who had been listening.
“Put it away,” Cheese explained. “Like this.” He picked up a set of juggling balls and tossed them into the air one by one. “Ow, ow, ow,” he added, as they each thudded down onto his head and rolled off into the grass.
“Well, it’s obvious,” Rarity said, tossing her mane. “You missed.”
“No, they should just disappear,” said Cheese. “Now you see them, now you don’t. I had to haul the party bomb on my back, and then I couldn’t put anything away anymore, and I had to get the cart.” He sighed. “This would be much easier to explain to Pinkie. It would save a lot of time and trouble if you could just—"
“Hold on there, partner,” Applejack stopped him, holding up her hoof. “I’m not quite satisfied in my mind about all this, and about you, and I am not going to pester one of my best friends and get her all upset over a cheap showoff piece of junk.”
“You mean this?” Cheese shot back, pointing to the bomb. “Or me? Because you can call me what you like, but the Great Ponyacci did not design junk.”
“Applejack,” said Twilight, “he’s clearly not Flim or Flam, even if he wears a boater. He doesn’t even wear it all the time. Being confrontational won’t help the situation. Perhaps you’ll permit me to examine it?” Cheese hovered closer to his prop, and she explained, “just to look at it, I promise.” She directed a shaft of light towards the hole. An image of the inside appeared over the device, magnifying and illuminating the interior. “I can’t see anything wrong,” she admitted at last, switching off the beam. “I can see the contents, and I can see the hole, but I don’t see anything that makes it fire or where the broken parts are.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” said the tall brown party pony, shaking his curly mane. “It’s not the mechanism—it’s the magic. Could you just get Pinkie, please?” he insisted. “Because this is a waste of time, and if she won’t come, there’s nothing anypony else can do.”
“There's bound to be something in the library,” said Twilight. “If not in mine, it’ll be in the royal library in Canterlot.”
Cheese shook his head, snorting with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “I’ll eat my hat—several of my hats—if you find anything about this in any library. This kind of stuff’s a secret. You certainly don’t write it down. None of us would. You figure it out for yourself, or it gets passed on to one pony you trust, maybe a father to his son, and that’s all. Not even, with all due respect,” he added, “to a princess. Strictly privileged proprietary party pony information only.”
“Suit yourself,” replied Twilight. “I was only trying to help. Didn’t Ponyacci have any children? Couldn’t you ask them if they knew?”
“Pickle Barrel? I thought of that,” Cheese said. “I actually took everything up in the cart to Mane-tua, but Pickles didn’t go into the family business—couldn’t be less funny if he tried. Ponyacci ran a school, and he loved sharing what he knew, but the only pony he ever shared his special tricks with was m—oh.” Cheese winced as a thousand bits dropped at once. He thought of me as his own . . . . He couldn’t finish the sentence, not even in his own head. His shoulders slumped dejectedly, and the last wheel fell off the cart.
“Nice work, Twi,” Applejack murmured. “You went and depressed him even more AND left more for me an’ Big Mac to clean up.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” muttered the discouraged stallion. “Just plow or pick or prune or whatever you do right around me. Use me for fertilizer. It doesn’t even matter anymore. I’ve been pulling this thing for two weeks hoping to get it to Pinkie, and either way, I’m done. My mother was right. I should never have gone into the business. I could have thrown parties on the weekends. What was I thinking?”
“Two weeks?” Rarity cut in, interrupting his flow of self-pity. She knew it when she saw it, and had no patience for it in other ponies. “Haven’t there been any parties for you to throw?”
Cheese had apparently shaken off his gloom and raised his head back up with a manic grin plastered to his face. “I don’t even know!” he exclaimed. “Not a single signal coming through. Weddings, birthdays, there could have been another coronation for all I could tell. No parties, the length and breadth of Equestria. It’s been nice and restful. I can’t do anything. Well, that’s not true,” he admitted. “I can still play the accordion. It helps.” He sat up, holding the instrument between both hooves, closed his eyes, and began to play.
Every mare sat down, one by one, in order to listen better. Even Rainbow Dash hovered a bit lower. Twilight hadn’t realized that an accordion could sound so sweet and melancholy. It wasn’t just a funny instrument, and Cheese Sandwich wasn’t just a funny pony. And neither is Pinkie, she thought, but we act as though she is all the time. Maybe she wants us to think that. We’ll probably never know. She sniffed, and then said, “I understand. I can see you’re in a lot of trouble, but I’m going to have to decide how and what I’m going to tell Pinkie.”
“Tell me whomina what now?” Pinkie’s head poked out of the tree directly overhead. Cheese was the only one who didn’t gasp.
“Pinkie? You knew he was there?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. She could never get used to the idea that Pinkie could actually sneak up on her. It hurt her pride, and it worried her, too. Pinkie rolled her eyes.
“Well, of course, he was playing the accordion, DUH,” said Pinkie. “Nopony plays the accordion like that.” She hung upside down, her tail wrapped around a bough, lowering herself until she was face to face and eye to eye with Cheese Sandwich. “Hiya, Cheesie!” she exclaimed. “You blew up in Seaddle, right? I was really worried about you.”
“Not so much up as in,” he admitted, “but yeah. I’m fine,” he added, “but I can’t say as much for this.” He placed his accordion carefully on the grass and patted the party bomb. Pinkie dropped down to take a closer look. “I tried to take it to Ponyacci to ask what I should do. I was halfway up the mountain before I remembered I couldn’t ever ask him anything again.”
Cheese began to cry. It was horrible. He didn’t sob or wail like Pinkie, but stared straight up at the sky, eyes brimming over, tears streaking down his muzzle, and face muscles tight as he muttered “sorry, sorry,” over and over.
“There, there, Cheesie,” Pinkie said, patting him on the back as he hiccupped in misery. “The last pony I cheered up like this was me, and everything worked out ok, although it worked out by Twilight blowing up all of the other mes, and I hope that doesn’t happen to you, ‘cause I’d miss you.” She turned to Twilight. “We’re not allowed to be sad at the same time,” she added, as though this explained everything.
“Can you fix it, Pinkie?” Cheese said in a small, strangled voice.
Pinkie stroked her chin, brows furrowing, her tongue protruding in concentration as she poked at the damaged party bomb, scrutinizing it on all sides, top, bottom, inside and out. “Aha!” she cried, and sat up triumphantly.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“I have no idea!” she announced, and sprang to her feet, bouncing in a wide circle around both Cheese and the bomb.
“No idea?”
“Nope!” she said cheerfully. “I give up!”
“Well, of all the _____! You,” Cheese muttered, glowering at the stubborn thing. “You stupid, worthless, lousy piece of junk!” he exclaimed, snorting in exasperation, and lashed out with a sharp snap of his right hind leg.
There was the unmistakable hiss of a lit fuse. Cheese froze, eyes wide, his hoof still raised.
“Take cover, everypony!” shouted Applejack, and they all hit the ground.
The next few minutes were very confused, filled with loud explosions, incinerated confetti, broken balloons, charred streamers, stale cake, and, unfortunately, quite a lot of applesauce.
Twilight and her friends coughed. As the smoke lifted, they could just make out Pinkie and Cheese, still frozen in place, manes and tails blown straight back from the blast, blackened with soot and cake frosting. There was a long pause. Everything was still, except for the occasional splat of pieces of cake, still raining down from the skies.
“See, Cheesie?” Pinkie said earnestly. “You give up. And you kick it. And it goes off. ‘Cause that’s funny.”
The party stallion coughed once, and coughed again. Twilight realized he wasn’t actually coughing. He was laughing, a laugh that turned into a triumphant whoop as he threw one of his hats into the air.
“Pinkie, you brilliant, brilliant filly!” Cheese cried, hugging her and whirling her around in a circle so that her hooves left the ground completely. “Of course! That was it! Why didn’t I think of that? It was so obvious!” And then he kissed her. Because that was obvious, too.
“Oh, dear,” squeaked Fluttershy.
Twilight clapped her hooves in excitement. “That is fascinating! His magic is ignited by hers! I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Awww,” cooed Rarity.
“There’s so much original material for research here! Spike, take a note.”
“Uh, Twi?” Applejack muttered, “I’m startin’ to feel really awkward here.”
“Ugh,” Rainbow Dash agreed, gagging, and shot straight up for the clouds and away from all the mushiness.
All the stuff from Cheese’s broken cart littering the ground began to rattle as though shaken by an oncoming stampede. All at once, it leapt into the air and whirled around the still oblivious Cheese and Pinkie in a vortex: cymbals, party horns, punch bowls, streamers, a few dozen hats, blizzards of confetti, clouds of glitter, faster and faster until they were completely obscured, and then it all began to disappear, swirling tighter and tighter until it had vanished, leaving the mystery of where and how party ponies kept endless supplies intact.
Twilight sighed. Even princesses couldn’t know everything. Applejack had already disappeared, no doubt to ask Big Mac to help clean up and to warn him off the North Orchard at the same time.
“Come on, number one assistant,” she said, boosting Spike onto her back. “You’re too young to see this kind of thing.”
“I’m not,” protested Spike.
“Yes, you are,” insisted Twilight, “and anyway, we’re in the way.” She trotted off through the trees.
“Au revoir!” called Rarity, from further down the orchard. “It’s the artistic temperament,” she sighed. “One wouldn’t associate it with accordions and party streamers, would one? Trés vie de bohème, non?”
“Eeep,” agreed Fluttershy. It was hard to trot with your hooves in front of your eyes.
~~
“I’m glad you came back, Cheesie,” Pinkie said. “But I always knew you would.”
He gave her a last happy squeeze with his tail. Pinkie squeaked. Something began to dawn on him: a bright, pink, joyous bubble of a thought, as sparkling and exhilarating as Pinkie herself. I’ll have to come back.
“Pinkie,” he exclaimed, “this solves everything! Don’t you see? I’ll have to come back! No matter where Cheesy Sense takes me, I’ll always have to come back. That is,” he added, clearing his throat self-consciously, “as long as you don’t mind. Professionally. Party pony to party pony.”
She booped him on the nose affectionately. “Silly.”
“Yeah,” he acknowledged, and blew some of the charred confetti out of her hair. “That’s who we are.”
“C’mon, Cheesie,” Pinkie called, trotting off through the trees. “I’m taking you back to Sugarcube Corner. You need a bath. And a hug. And then a whole lotta cupcakes.”
He grinned and trotted after her. “Okey-dokey-lokey.”
Author's Note
Seven minutes to the end of Hearts and Hooves day, and it's done! I did wind up tinkering with it a bit, and in meantime, FillyBlue gave me permission to use her art, but I had to meet a sentimental deadline.
This fic is dedicated to my niece, a Valentine's Day baby. If she were a foal, she'd have been the prettiest foal in all of Equestria.
~~and to everyone who ships CheesePie
~~and to everyone who has a very special somepony
~~and to everyone who has or hasn't, but will someday. Because there's a cuckoo for every clock. Pinkie and Cheese prove it as nopony else could.
Oh, yes! If you think of accordions as only for polkas, maybe you recognize this one. "Oh! It's THAT instrument!"
Kinda cliche, but appropriate, if you remember that "rose" means "pink" in French, so I guess that makes this song: "I see life through pink-colored glasses?"
