High above the wildly flowing hair of the battle fatigued maiden, a dangerous tower was the final obstacle between Prism Glow and her loved one. It seemed like so long ago that he had been kidnapped by the gang of ruthless goblins. Though love had prevailed, and reunion was close at hand.
Sword in one hand and shield in the other, it took only a few solid strikes from her hoof to send the wooden door crashing to the ground. They just didn't make doors like they used to.
“Great, they’re totally gonna hear that,” she muttered. “So much for surprise.”
Surely enough, soon after came the advancing army, swords raised in the air high over the plethora of rancid, unwashed bodies. They-
“That’s absolutely deplorable,” Rarity interrupted. “Why haven’t they washed? What sort of army is that? And thank you EVER so much for totally taking my OC name idea."
"Well you weren't gonna use it!"
Late into the night, the only glow in the apartment bedroom was from a computer screen, in front of which Pinkie had been sitting for several hours. Rarity had gone and returned several times, but Pinkie hadn't moved.
“They’re a villainous army of scoundrels,” Pinkie said. “Are they going to cease their villainous acts of villainy to shower? They don’t care. Besides, it makes it exciting.”
“It makes it no such thing,” Rarity declared.
The apartment in which they both lived was not fit for royalty by any means. Two bedrooms, shared bathroom, kitchen. And even that those were in questionable condition. Although Rarity had done her darndest to make it liveable, even she had her limits.
“Fine,” Pinkie sighed. “If it means that much to you, I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t do it for me, do it for yourself,” Rarity said. “Your readers don’t want to be subjected to filth. They have 4chan for that."
“I don’t think you really know how this fanfiction thing works,” Pinkie declared, but swung her chair back around regardless, for another round of editing.
Surely enough, soon after came the advancing army, swords raised in the air high over the plethora of previously rancid, unwashed bodies. They had since learned of an intruder to the tower, and masked the stench of their arrival by wading through streams and rivers, which gave them a pleasantly cleansed appearance.
“Better?” Pinkie asked.
“I suppose so,” Rarity shrugged. “But sacrifices must sometimes be made for the art of theater. Now let me write it, it’s getting to the romantic part! I’m good at that!”
Pushing her friend out of the way, the fashion girl took over. Pinkie fell upon the bed, and blew strands of obnoxiously bright hair out of her face.
Prism wasn’t entirely ready for the filth which dominated the inside of the tower where her lover was being held. The sword was heavy in her hands and was swung clumsily in an effort to ward off the oncoming hoarde. A particularly violent swing resulted in a chipped nail, to which she threw down the sword in disgust.
“Alright, that’s enough, all of you!” She announced, her voice ringing with such severity that the small army stumbled to a halt in shocked confusion. “You’re all under arrest!”
“Arrest? For what?” Growled one of the gobins in front. “You have no authority.”
“For multiple crimes againt fashion, of which you should all be ashamed! Look at you! Wearing rags and sacks and such! Have you no shame?!”
“Not really, we ARE a villainous army,” one of the goblins snapped back. “We don’t really do the whole morality thing.”
“Well this fight will not continue for another moment until you all learn some proper etiquette! Now off with you, back where you came from! Shoo!” Prism scolded.
Left with no other choice, the goblin army retreated in shame, having learned a valuable lesson.
Rarity leaned back in her chair, looking proud of herself. She glanced over to Pinkie, who had her head buried in her hands.
“...What?” Rarity asked. “It’s an improvement.”
“I don’t even…” Pinkie mumbled through her hands. “You know what, it’s fine. It’s perfect.”
“Really?!” Rarity giggled loudly. “Oh, this IS fun. We can express our creativity all while subtly educating our readers on the latest trends!”
With her head stll in her hands, Pinkie made some sort of incomprehensible noise.
“Should I write more?” Rarity asked. “I could-”
“No!” Pinkie’s head shot up. “I mean… no. It’s fine. It’s perfect. We… don’t want to overwhelm them with fashion tips.”
“Of course you’re right, darling, of course.” With that, she pushed the Publish button.
“When do the glowing reviews come in?”
Pinkie seemed momentarily distracted, then bounced back to her usual perky self. “Well it has to get published first, and I’m not sure how long that takes. So we wait for that.” She gasped. “We could make brownies!”
Rarity cringed. “Don’t you KNOW what chocolate does to your hips?”
“Chocolate doesn't make me pudgy like it does you. No complaining! Come on!” Grabbing her friends wrist, she hauled Rarity out of the room.
"I'm WHAT?!" Rarity shrieked.
Several Hours Later...
“I thought we were going to make brownies,” Rarity said conceringly, staring at the strange mixture of black sludge that had come out of the baking pan. Despite this, she'd been chewing on the same carrot for the last thirty minutes.
“I didn’t have brownie mix, I had cake mix and pie mix, so I thought I’d try and make a pike,” Pinkie said. “It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped.”
Rarity just shook her head.
“Do you think we’ve been published by now?” Rarity asked.
“Let’s find out! Come on! Zoom!” And with that, Pinkie darted upstairs.
“Does saying ‘zoom’ actually make you go faster?” Rarity asked, making her way up the stairs in a much more delicate state.
“No. But it’s fun!”
The computer was still aglow, and it was extremely late into the night. Technically morning, by this point.
“We could have just gone to bed,” Rarity said, entering Pinkie’s bedroom.
“But then we couldn’t have made pike!” Pinkie beamed.
“We STILL haven't made pike. I don’t think pike is something that CAN be made," Rarity said.
“See? And we don’t know that before. Now we can scratch that off the list of things we wonder about.”
“I’m overjoyed,” Rarity deadpanned. "Now I can die in peace."
Spinning around in her chair, Pinkie refreshed the window which had been left up.
“Well?” Rarity asked.
“We’re in!” Pinkie squealed. But her moment of joy was shortlived as the smile quickly vanished from her face. “I don’t believe it…”
“What is it?” Rarity leaned in. “Look, we have a comment already! Let me see, scroll down!”
Pinkie did, still very quiet.
SETH1412 said:
Good story. Needs more Trixie.
“Wahaha!” Rarity looked pleased. “See, he said it was good!”
“But I don’t know who that is!” Pinkie insisted.
“So?” Rarity asked.
“So, the whole cornerstone of ponyfiction.net is most authors get a visit from Regidar!”
“I have absolutely no idea what that means,” Rarity said.
Pinkie was quiet for a moment. “It’s like, if you have twelve cupcakes, and only one of them has a raspberry filling and you don’t know which one. The cupcakes are all fanfics. All the cupcakes are delicious, but the raspberry one is unexpected and makes the whole effort just a little sweeter.”
“I think your cupcake has nuts,” Rarity said. “Just like you.”
Pinkie slammed her fist down on the table. “No! Something must have happened to him!”
“Or maybe he’s not online right now,” Rarity explained. “Or maybe, and this is just a crazy thought, maybe he just didn’t read it yet.”
Pinkie swiveled her chair around. “No. This feels wrong. Something’s not right… and I’m going to find out what it is. This calls for an-"
"Don't say adventure," Rarity pleaded. "It's not even sunri-"
"ADVENTURE!" Pinkie announced.
"Fantastic," Rarity sighed.
