Pinkie Learns About Double-Edged Swords
Pinkie Learns About Double Edged Swords
Pinkie Pie knew something was wrong. No, it wasn’t something like from P-Day, a term she used to refer to her surprise birthday party with her friends last summer. At least her friends weren’t really avoiding her this time. No, it was something subtle. Something in the air. Her ears could almost hear the wrongness in the wind. Also, Applejack was telling her that she wasn’t coming to her after-after-after birthday party for Gummy.
“Sorry, Pinkie, but I’m swamped and Big Mac and Apple Bloom is off visitin’ Aunt Tabitha in Los Pegasus.”
Still, Pinkie gave AJ a reassuring smile. It wouldn’t do to show anything less than her game face after the last time. “It’s okay, Applejack! Things happen after all!”
A look of relief washed over Applejack’s freckled face. “Really? Gee, thanks.”
“We’ll just have to hold a sixty day catch-up party when you’re free!”
Applejack’s expression fell almost immediately. Pinkie Pie blinked. She hadn’t expected that. Her friends all loved her parties right? They always did. Sure, there was that one time where they totally avoided her for one day, but that ended in an awesomest surprise party and all was forgiven.
“Uh... I guess. I mean, don’t you think we should be doing something else other than parties?”
“Huh?” Pinkie looked at her friend blankly.
“Never mind, Pinkie. I’ll be sure to be there when ya plan for it.” Applejack tilted her hat back and looked past her shoulder. She squinted for a moment before letting out a groan. “Oh shoot, I’m runnin’ late. See ya!”
Pinkie just blinked as Applejack galloped off, trying to make sense of her friend’s last words. Then she shrugged. “Must be just her busy schedule again. She really needs to get out more often!”
***
Pinkie bounced happily around the heavily decorated room in Sugarcube Corner, stopping every so often to greet yet another guest or to make small talk. Top on her priority list was finding the friends she invited to this after-after-after-after-after birthday party. As the premier party pony in Equestria, she was duly obligated to make sure they were happy after all! She finally found Twilight huddled in a corner, frantically holding a book up while trying to scoop juice into her cup. Pinkie could tell Twilight wasn’t doing very well from the way the ladle was swaying erratically in mid-air.
“Heya Twilight! What’cha reading?” Pinkie greeted brightly, coming to a stop just beside the lavender unicorn.
Twilight froze for a moment, sending the ladle flying across the room. She quickly snapped her book shut and turned to greet Pinkie with a plastic smile. “Hey, Pinkie. Nice errr... party, don’t you think?”
Pinkie stopped and looked at Twilight curiously. “Of course it is. It’s a Pinkie party!”
“Yes. Your parties are great as usual.” Twilight’s eyes strayed past Pinkie’s shoulder for a moment, before returning to face her. She beckoned Pinkie to come a little closer.
“Um. Pinkie, don’t you think we should really cut down on parties? I mean, you know how it is with Spike and ice-cream.” She let out a nervous chuckle.
Pinkie glanced backwards in search of Spike. The purple dragon appeared to be dancing on the banquet table, limbs flailing about in a rough imitation of a drunken pony. In addition to the bow tie around his neck, he also managed to acquire a lampshade as a head accessory. Curiously though, there was no sign of ice-cream.
“Silly Twilight. I dropped the ice-cream after Spike got that nasty tummy ache.”
“Oh... right! Totally forgot about that. Um... but Spike is also on a diet see and... well...”
Pinkie arched an eyebrow. “Is he sick?”
“No, no! I mean, he has been trying to slim down... you know those muscles don’t come on their own and uh... well... there’s the whole unhealthy sweets he has been taking. Now I don’t know if dragons can have diabetes but—”
“Oooooooh! I get it! You want to—” Pinkie lowered her voice conspiratorially, “—prepare Spikey-Wikey together with Rarity, don’t you?” She winked at her friend and resumed the conversation in a more normal voice. “Can do! After all, we wouldn’t want to mess up his chance with you-know-who.”
“Who?” Spike shouted out from across the room, apparently having sixth sense in anything concerning Rarity.
Twilight grimaced. “N-Nothing, Spike. Just go and drink your punch.”
“Ponies these days...” The rest of his words were drowned out by the crowd.
“Don’t you worry, Twilight. I’ll be sure to keep Spike away from parties from now on. Pinkie Promise!”
Twilight sighed and laid her book on the table. “Look, Pinkie. It’s not that. It’s... well... your parties, it’s getting kind of...”
Pinkie knew that tone of voice: the slightly condescending yet polite tone which Twilight often used herself. The librarian only used it when she wanted to let ponies know she disapproved of something. Pinkie held a hoof up, and spoke quietly, “You think my parties aren’t fun anymore, don’t you?”
“Well, no, Pinkie, it’s just that... maybe your parties are becoming a little too—”
“Fine! I’ll make my parties even more spec-ta-cu-lar! More streamers! More balloons!” Pinkie cried, waving her hooves about.
“It’s not that, Pinkie, it’s—”
“What? That isn’t enough?! Fine, I’ll throw in my party cannons as well!” Pinkie shouted. She was suddenly aware that the party had suddenly grounded to an awkward halt behind her.
Twilight shook her head. “Pinkie, you’re not listening—”
Pinkie planted a hoof on Twilight’s snout. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, I’ll solve it... Pinkie Pie Style!” The party pony bounced off with a huff, leaving a bewildered Twilight wordlessly staring at the departing Pinkie.
***
Pinkie peered around the corner of the house, watching for any signs of her friends. So, somepony thinks my parties are not good enough, huh? I’m not the called the party goddess for nothing. Well, I’ll show them. First, I need to see what they think is lacking. Since they won’t tell me upfront, I’ll just have to dig them out myself.
The disguise Pinkie had chosen was her classic. Mustache and glasses would cover her distinctive snout and eye colour perfectly! The clown wig was just icing on the cake. Nopony would notice her. The perfect disguise for a perfect stake out.
The steady hoofsteps of somepony approaching interrupted her self-congratulatory thoughts. It sounded like two ponies, actually. Snippets of Rarity’s refined speech and Twilight’s reasoned responses drifted to her sharp ears. Just the ponies I been looking for... Pinkie quickly dove into a prepared camouflage bush nearby just as she heard the hoofsteps turn the corner.
“...know, Rarity. Pinkie seemed to have taken it pretty hard.”
“Nonsense, darling. It’s about time somepony told her that her parties are really starting to lose their shine.”
Pinkie could feel her tears well up in the corners of her eyes. She had to struggle hard not to burst into open tears. It was one thing to have inferred the thoughts from her friend. It was another thing to actually hear them being spoken out loud. Did her friends... Did they really think she was losing her edge? Her parties were no more... fun? Pinkie felt herself sinking into another depression. A feeling she knew all too well. So absorbed she was by the deep, soul-crushing feeling that by the time she cared enough to pay attention to the conversation again, she heard Rainbow Dash speaking.
“...doubled-edged sword?”
A pause hung in the air, before Twilight’s voice responded. “Well, see now, a double-edged sword...” Pinkie peeked out just as Twilight’s eyes looked in the direction of the bush. For a moment there, it seemed like she was staring directly at the her at the moment before looking away.
Double-edged sword? Pinkie blinked away her tears, trying to process this new phrase. Was it something important? For some reason it stirred something in her mind. Plus, that look.
By the time she tuned back into the conversation, Twilight and Rarity was saying goodbye to Rainbow and seemed to be moving on. Pinkie stuck a cautious head outside the bush, only to see Twilight’s tail disappearing around another corner.
“Double-edged sword, huh?”
***
Pinkie Pie spent the entire day brooding. Why did that single phrase bother her so much? She searched high. She searched low. Alas, she wasn’t Rarity, and she fell to the floor with a big sigh after many hours of contemplation. Not even her usual cure of apple strudels helped.
In frustration she took her books on theories of hosting parties out. The Big Manual of Parties, Abridged Edition. The Heart and Soul of Parties. Legends and Myths of Party Accessories. Pinkie stopped and blinked at the last title. When did she even get this book? On a hunch, she flipped through the book, skimming through the various items of note and legend that has been used in parties of past.
Then she stopped as she spied a certain name in the book, her eyes widening. Twilight knew! She was dropping her a hint! Sly girl. I knew she wouldn’t let Pinkie down. She began reading the passage out loud.
“The Double-Edged Sword of Banquet. Said to be... yadda yadda. Oooooooh! A hit in every party that Chancellor Puddinghead ever attended!” She frowned as she read the last paragraph. “Unfortunately, the sword was said to be lost in the chaos of Discord’s reign... yadda... yadda... Oooooh! Is last seen somewhere around the lost city of Los Bullador around eight hundred years ago. Has never been found since...”
Pinkie let the book drop, and put a hoof to her chest. “I will get that sword, if it’s the last thing I do! Nopony will be better at parties than I am!”
Then it dawned on her.
“But where would I find the sword?”
***
The smoky hut was dim. The only source of light here was the flickering lamp hanging low in the middle of the tent. All around, items of various age stacked up against the walls of the tent. There seems to be a desk set right at the end of the tent. To any sane pony, it would like the perfect setup for a trap.
Pinkie didn’t mind. She was, after all, on a super-duper important mission to make her parties better, and more importantly, her friends happy. Nothing could detract her from that! She had taken the first train out of town towards Baltimare, where the famous archaeologist Rosetta Stone was said to be camping out on her latest trip. If anypony knew where to find this elusive sword, it would somepony with the brains to read old those dirty musty textbooks.
“Miss Stone? Helllooooooooooooooo~!”
“Quiet! I’m in the middle of examining this err... precious stone tablet. What do you want?” a raspy dry voice cried out from the darkness. Pinkie could make out the silhouette of a pegasus there, but she couldn’t make out any details.
“I heard from this totally dapper unicorn on the station that you’re the go-to pony for lost and missing items that are super hard to find, and see now I have to super hard thing I need to have to find so that—”
“Get to the point, missy. I am a very busy person with uh... important stuff to do.”
“Right! So I’m looking for this super hard to find thing that is supposedly lost around here um... the Double-Edged Sword of Banquet?”
“...The what now?”
“Double-Edged Sword of Banquet. You know—the one party to rule them all, party for the party god—kind of stuff. I need it for my parties. You’re the only pony that seems to know what this is around this parts, so here I am!”
The dark figure shifted and walked over to the lamp. The entire tent was suddenly illuminated as the magical light flared brightly. Pinkie raised a hoof to shield her face as her eyes adjusted. A light pink pegasus, with a grouchy face stared back at her irritably. “Listen, I think you got the wrong—” Rosetta began.
“No, uh, that nice pegasus in the station said you know everything about ancient super duper old stuff and digs them out from old musty tombs. So you must know where this sword is.”
“Miss...”
“Call me Pinkie Pie!”
“...Pinkie. I am not a paid shill to look some ‘precious’ heirloom that you might have misplaced in some musty attic—” Rosetta stopped in Pinkie put on her best puppy face.
“Pretty please? It’s very important to me and I really really need it and if I don’t have it then I can’t hold the best parties in Ponyville and then they’ll never be happy—”
Rosetta cupped a hoof to Pinkie’s mouth before she could ramble on further, sighing resignedly. “Fine, I’ll look into it, how soon do you need it?”
“Now, silly. I wouldn’t be asking if I needed it next week, wouldn’t I?” Pinkie answered promptly.
The archaeologist chewed the bottom of her lips nervously. “I shall require a payment of a hundred bits. No less.”
Pinkie dug through her saddlebags, and produced a heavy bags of bits which she set down on the nearby table. “Done! Do you know where it is now?”
Rosetta’s eyes grew wide at sight of the bulky bag, and she quickly carried the bag over to her personal desk at the end of the tent. A palpable silence followed, broken only by the sound of bits clinking about. Pinkie Pie just waited patiently, waiting for Rosetta to finish counting the bits.
“Well.” Rosetta cleared her throat. “I would require a day to look up the relevant artefact and draw a satisfactory map. Would that be satisfactory?”
“A day? What am I going to do in a day?!”
“I am sorry, Miss Pie. I will need to go over my—”
“Boorrriiiiinnnngggggggg!” Pinkie’s eyes strayed to a shiny vase on top of a pile of crates. She wandered over and began poking at the unsteady edifice. “Oh... what does this do?”
“Don’t touch that!” Rosetta cried out, quickly stopping Pinkie from potentially toppling an unevenly stacked pile of crates.
***
“Are you sure that’s correct? Because I thought Trottingham was like super far away from Canterlot and—”
“Could you at least let me concentrate for five minutes so that I can finish this?” Rosetta said. She firmly nudged Pinkie’s head away from her shoulder and gestured to the centre of the tent where she adjudged the hyperactive pony would most likely deal the least damage.
Rosetta sighed in relief as Pinkie finally—after a solid hour of badgering her—managed to keep her mouth shut for the first time since she entered the tent. Now where did I put my abridged version of—
“Ohhhh, this carpet is dirty. Maybe if we cleaned it up, we can get it to shine. Oh! Then add streamers to it! Streamers is always fun.” The thought of her precious centuries-old Purrsian carpet being decorated by gaudy streamers was the last straw that broke Rosetta’s patience. She twitched as Pinkie unrolled the carpet and began bouncing on it.
Need. To. Get. This. Disaster. Out. Of. My. Tent. But how? Rosetta’s eyes strayed to a stray leaflet that somehow found its way to her normally organised table.
“Greetings citizen of Trottingham!
Light’s Interactive is now filming the latest trilogy of the Sword in the Stone!
If you are interested to be an extra, please contact...”
That’s it. I’ll send her on a short wild goose chase to get her off my back. It’ll be a harmless run while I actually get the work done. I’ll even compensate her afterwards. Yeah... I’d better. It would be good to get some proper food for once.
“Pinkie! Stop playing with that carpet or else I can’t get any work done!” Rosetta barked. Pinkie subsided and meekly rolled the carpet back to its place. Satisfied Pinkie wasn’t able to burn down her tent at least for the next five minutes, Rosetta quickly picked up her fallen pen and began scrawling on a piece of blank paper. She finished her map in three minutes. Just in time too, Rosetta thought, noticing that Pinkie’s eyes were beginning to stray again.
“Just. Take. This. And. Go,” Rosetta ground out, at the end of her patience now.
She pushed the finished map, complete with hastily scrawled directions, at Pinkie Pie.
Pinkie snatched up the the map and peered closely. “Heeyyyyyyyyyyy, wait a minute!” she said, frowning.
Rosetta seemed to freeze. “Is... Is something wrong? I swear, all of that is true and accurate. Also, no refunds!” Her hooves closed around the bag of bits protectively.
“Something just seem not right...”
Rosetta swallowed nervously. “What is it?”
Pinkie looked at the archaeologist severely. “Is the X here marking the treasure, or the circle? Because you totally put both in there and technically speaking a circle is less precise than an X because it would mark a huge area which then I’d have to dig and—”
Rosetta hastily grabbed the map off Pinkie and took out a pen. “The X! The X! Here, let me make the corrections!” She crossed out the circle and double lined the X. “Here! Now go! Before you’re too late to take the next train to Trottingham.” She already started nudging the hyperactive earth pony out of the tent.
“Okie-dokie! Thank you so much, Miss Archaeologist!” Pinkie hugged the stunned Rosetta, before cheerfully bouncing out of the tent.
Rosetta stared at the open flap of her tent for a while longer, before shakily going back to her desk and pouring out her favourite brandy. She had been saving it for the day she was going to be financially independent, but this seemed like as good a time as any.
“I need a new job.”
***
Pinkie looked at her map for the umpeetenth time. According to it, she was supposed to be in the right location. Yet, all she could see was tall trees and bushes surrounding her. Soft sunlight filtered through the treetops.
“Huh. Weird. I thought there was supposed to be a clearing or something. Maybe I took a wrong turn.” Pinkie pushed back the pith hat she purchased in Baltimare and stowed the map back into her saddlebags. “Well, I guess I could look around.”
After several minutes of fruitlessly peering into empty bushes and searching bird nests on trees, Pinkie flopped onto her haunches, pouting. “Hey, this isn’t right. That nice lady in Baltimare said it was here...” She took out the map again, and studied it closely.
“Oh! Silly me! It’s five kilometres to the right, not four.” Pinkie giggled, and set off off to where she was supposed to be.
Much to her delight, she arrived at a clearing, illuminated brightly by the morning sun. And in the middle, was her goal. The prized sword, stuck in the stone. Pinkie bounced happily towards the sword, admiring the soon-to-be-hers artefact.
It looked like an ordinary broadsword, complete with a wooden pommel. The first thing that caught her eye was how shiny and sharp the sword was, despite its supposed age. The second was the intricate wooden pommel that decorated the hilt of the large sword. “Huh. Guess somepony must have been taking care of it. Wonder why it was stuck in a stone.” Pinkie shrugged and clamped her mouth on the hilt. With one mighty heave, she pulled.
Nothing.
Frowning, Pinkie braced her forehooves on the rock and tried again. Not an inch. “Oh... so that’s how you wanna play it, huh? No rock is going to foil Pinkie’s plan to be the party queen of Equestria!” The earth pony shrugged off her saddlebags and dug her hooves on the ground, all the while maintaining a steady grip on the guard.
Still nothing.
Pinkie let loose a string of unpony words as her efforts was rendered moot. She kicked the rock in frustration. “C’mon, you stupid rock!”
“Hey! That is the property of Lights Interactive!” a gruff voice shouted behind her. “And who the hay are you?”
***
“Twilight, do you have any idea what kind of super special party Pinkie is hosting today?” Rarity asked, glancing around at the gaudily decorated town hall. Even for Pinkie Pie’s standard, this was shaping up to one of her biggest parties yet. No small feat, considering she had outdone Canterlot’s Annual Polo Party during her last attempt.
Twilight shrugged. “No idea, Rarity. All I know that she came back from her trips to Baltimare with a large box in tow. Something about a super duper surprise to make her the parties of all parties today. Pinkie being Pinkie, I guess.”
Rarity grimaced. “Let’s hope it’s not another of her bubblegum cravings again. The last time she had one, she covered the entire town in gum! Took me days to wash the smell of bubblegum out of my mane. I guess we’ll find out when she arrives.”
“Fillies and gentlecolts!” a loud voice boomed over the speakers installed at town hall.
Twilight and Rarity found themselves looking towards the stage as the din in the large hall died down. A loud jaunty tune began to play, with bagpipes and trumpets leading a dramatic, yet upbeat song. Twilight found herself wondering why Pinkie was using a music more appropriate for the days of the Tribal Wars rather than her traditional party tunes.
Then she saw why as a figure stepped out from the curtains: Pinkie Pie dressed in her Chancellor Puddinghead costume. How she managed to lift it from the Canterlot Royal Theatre, Twilight would probably never know. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, either.
“Behold! New Pinkie has arrived with the fabled Double-Edged Sword of Banquet! The very Sword used by Chancellor Puddinghead herself in her parties! Feast in my halls and despair!” Pinkie announced, pulling a rope by her side. Twilight held her breath as the curtains parted slowly to reveal...
A sword stuck in the stone.
Admittedly, it was a shiny sword, but it was still just a sword. Twilight blinked several times, certain that the lights were playing tricks on her. When that didn’t work, she rubbed her eyes several more times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating from a lack of fluids. Nope. Still there.
“The Sword compels you to have fun in my parties.”
Twilight found herself cringing. How the hay was she even inspired to seek out this gaudy sword?
Pinkie clambered onto the rock, with one hoof on the handle. She leaned in as if to listen to the sword. A moment later, she nodded and turned to everypony with a big smike. “Now the Sword decrees that you may enjoy the party and have cake. For cake is good and everypony likes cake anyway!”
Twilight knew right there and then, she need to put a stop to this. With a flash of her horn, she teleported right to the stage.
“Hey, Twilight! Like my new sword? It already makes my party one hundred percent more fun!”
“Pinkie. We need to ta—”
“Best of all, that nice pony in Trottingham helped me to bring it to the train. That was so nice of him really since we talked all the way from the forest to the set he was building and then to the train station and he was such a good listener too and—”
“Pinkie.”
“And then when I offered to pay him for his nice gesture of helping me he just shoved me on the—”
Twilight gritted her teeth in frustration. Her horn began to glimmer ominously. For a moment there, the entire room darkened, and lightning flashed in the otherwise clear sky behind them.
“Pinkie!”
Pinkie stopped in mid-gesture and turned to face Twilight, as if she just noticed that she was addressing her for the first time. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely. “Yes, Twilight?”
“We need to talk.”
***
“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me that it’s not that you don’t like my party, but you don’t like me hosting them too often?”
Twilight forced a smile to her face. “Yes. Pinkie. We, uhh, tried telling you, but you seemed rather upset by it.”
“Well, I thought you were telling me that my parties were no fun anymore and—” Pinkie’s voice softened a little. “—you wouldn’t want to be my friends...”
“Nonsense, Pinkie darling. You know we’re better than that. Remember last time?” Rarity said.
Applejack put a hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Pinkie, what we’re trying to tell you is, sometimes, too much of a good thing can be bad. I mean, we’all love parties, but you know, sometimes a pony just needs to relax, ya’know.”
“Yeah, Pinkie. Having an after-birthday party is fine. But an after-after-after-after-after birthday party? That kinda takes the cake. Figuratively speaking, of course.” Twilight added.
Pinkie deflated a little. “I... see.”
“C’mon Pinkie. Cheer up. All we’re asking is that you do something different once in a while,” Rainbow said, fluttering beside the pink pony.
“Yeah... sorry, everypony. I thought you guys enjoyed it, so I thought I should hold more parties. I only wanted to make you guys happy.”
Twilight let out a short laugh and embraced Pinkie in a tight hug. “Oh, Pinkie. We know you do. That’s why we love you.” For a moment, Pinkie hesitated, memories of her surprise birthday party flooding back. Then, realising Twilight meant well, she relaxed gratefully into the hug.
“And that doesn’t mean you can’t find other ways to let us have fun. A relaxing game of polo, for example. Actually, that sounds rather divine at the moment.” Rarity steepled her hooves together and let out a wistful sigh.
Pinkie brightened up immediately. “Hey, you know what this calls for? A par—” A sharp look from Twilight stilled the rest of the sentence in her throat. The party pony sheepishly smiled. “How about a nice quiet game of chess instead?”
“Chess?! Since when do you play chess?” her other five friends exclaimed simultaneously.
“I always played chess.” Pinkie paused and looked at each in turn with a growing smile. “It’s been so long since I had a proper game though.”
***
Dear Princess Celestia,
Today, my friends taught me about the importance of moderation. I think it’s a fancy word for having too much of something is bad, but I’m not sure. Twilight says I should use it though, because she says it’s the correct word for this, so here it is! You think ponies loving parties would like to have them everyday. Wrong! Too much of a good thing can be bad, and sometimes we all just need a change at times. Twilight called it a double edged sword, but I think it’s silly.
In other news, playing with Rarity in chess was fun. I’m not sure why she keeps asking for a rematch, considering I won 14 times in a row, but I guess she must like the game very much. Anyway, it’s nice writing to you, Princess. I hope we can stop by the Grand Galloping Gala again. That way I can show them my new shiny double-edged sword!
Your partilicious pony,
Pinkie Pie
***
Rosetta was deep in thought, trying to decipher a new stone tablet. She looked up as the tent flap rustled open, half-expecting the crazy pink pony to show up again. To her relief, it was the familiar cyan face of one of her old friend.
“Hey Frostfire, what brings you to Baltimare?” she greeted, happy to have some normal conversation after that pink disaster.
Frostfire smiled wryly in response. “Just stopping by. You know, an old friend visiting another.” He carefully let himself into the tent. “Say, did a crazy pink pony visit you today?”
“Wait, why are you asking me this?”
Frostfire shrugged helplessly. “Actually, we had some trouble at the set. Said pink mare insisted that the prop we used for the film was actually some thingamajig for parties or something. She literally wouldn’t let go. Director decided it was cheaper to get a new prop rather than waste our precious time trying to convince the crazy coot otherwise. Dreamblooms don’t flower every day after all. She did drop an interesting tidbit...” Frostfire gave Rosetta a knowing look.
“Before you ask, yes, I drew her a fake map to get rid of her. Unfortunately, your filming site was the only place I could think of and she was in the midst of destroying my invaluable Purrsian carpet. You understand, right?”
“Those musty old things? Seriously Rosetta, were it not for your parent’s debts, I’d think you would practically hoard all these junk.” Rosetta snorted, and gave her old friend of her patented “not a single word more” look. Frostfire just shrugged. “Anyhow, what’s the whole sword business about?”
“The Double-Edged Sword of Banquet actually. An interesting artefact, if a little obscure. Out of curiosity, I looked up about it after she left and let me have some peace. Turns out there really was such a thing and—”
“Wait, so her finding and making off with a set prop wasn’t an accident? Oh jeez, you’re lucky I was the only one who actually figured out anything she was saying.”
Rosetta held up her hooves in self-defense. “I only did it to get her off my back, I swear! I didn’t know she would actually go and steal a prop.” Her expression softened. “Anyway, if she does comes back, I’ll happily give her the location of the real sword at no charge. I managed to pinpoint its real location based on the written records of the good Chancellor Puddinghead and her subsequent successors. It wasn’t lost as so much as misplaced and handed down to the wrong family.”
“Oh? Where is it now?”
“Some hick town called Ponyville. In the possession of a family called the Cakes. Lucky ponies probably didn’t even realise what a treasure they had on their hooves.”
***
Mr. Cake was enjoying a brief moment of peace of quiet in his normally busy life. It was rare he got a chance to make sure of his comfortable armchair. No sooner did he grace the cushion with his hindquarters, the familiar voice of his beloved wife interrupted the tranquil moment.
“Honey! When are you goin’ to get rid of that awful sword in our basement?”
Mr Cake furrowed his brow and answered back. “Just as soon as Pinkie Pie returns from that party of hers.”
Stupid sword. I wonder whose bright idea was it to hand it to my family?
