Pinkie's Secret

Chapters

Showdown
Deceptions
The Long Con
Twisting the Knife
Nocturnal Meeting
A Lesson in Friendship
Spencer's New Reality
The Pressure Builds
Plans Within Plans

Showdown

Two Weeks Earlier

A trio of new unicorns had arrived late one evening at Sugarcube Corner, and they had quickly made themselves unwelcome.

“Hurry up with our orders, earther!”

The big unicorn’s use of the epithet caused his two other friends to guffaw loudly. Emboldened by the lack of response from the earth ponies, they each took their time “accidently” spilling cider on the floor around the table. Pinkie barely kept her temper as she brought over a fresh round of drinks and muffins to them.

The trio had soon found themselves alone as the local ponies had one by one gotten up and left.

“And make sure these muffins are fresh this time! If this were Canterlot we wouldn’t have had to ask!”

Mr. Cake had heard enough. “Then why don’t you go back to Canter-“ he began before his wife shushed him.

“You say something, Grandpa?” the first unicorn challenged. One of the others laughed and snorted cider out his nose. The revolting spray almost hit Pinkie, but she dodged it at the last moment. She gritted her teeth and was just about to say something very un-Pinkielike when the bell over the front door tinkled, and in walked Princess Twilight.

“I was told there was a problem here,” she said, fixing them all with a glare, “and I can see exactly who it is.” She was used to Ponyville residents not treating her with deference, and in fact she insisted on it, but the look she got from these three was pure insolence. This would not do.

She walked over to them, taking in at once the spilled cider on the floor. “Mind explaining yourselves?”

“We weren’t doing anything, Your Highness,” said the first one, his voice thick with sarcasm. “We’re just messing with these Ponyville types.”

Twilight’s scowl deepened. “These Ponyville types are my friends. What are your names, and what are you doing here?”

The lead unicorn looked down and brushed an imaginary crumb off his golden brown coat before answering. Swiveling so his moneybags cutie mark could be seen, he finally said, “See this? This cutie mark means I’m one of the Fortunes. Spencer Fortune, to be exact, and these are my friends Porter and Spindle. Maybe you’ve heard of my father, MISTER Fortune?”

Twilight ignored that last statement. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Spencer heaved a huge, put-upon sigh, and said, “My father told me I could travel all over Equestria, so we stopped here because we wanted to see Ponyville. My friends and I are just looking to spend some bits in this tiny town. What’s wrong with that?”

Twilight stared at him, then at his sycophants, and said, “If you have to ask, then I don’t have an answer for you. What you are going to do is apologize to my friends, clean up this mess, pay your bill and be on the first train come morning.”

Spencer just smirked. “I don’t think so, Princess. I don’t apologize to servants, and I know my rights. We haven’t broken any laws. And as for this mess,” here he took out a small pouch of bits and dropped it at Pinkie’s feet, “this should cover it.” Turning to his companions he added, “C’mon. There’s gotta be someplace entertaining around here-HEY! Let go!” Twilight had seized him in her magic and brought him face to face with her.

“I wasn’t asking you to apologize. I was telling you. Now.”

“You can’t do this to ME!” cried Spencer as he struggled in vain to free himself. Porter and Spindle stayed silent, finally realizing who they were dealing with.

“That is an illogical statement, as clearly I can “do this to you.” Last chance,” she added.

“Okay! Okay, I’m SORRY! I’m sorry, now let me go!”

Twilight held him aloft a moment more, then abruptly dropped him. Spencer landed heavily, then glared daggers at her.

“My father will hear of this,” he promised.

“If your father isn’t appalled by your behavior, then perhaps he needs to be taught a lesson as well. Now then, I believe if you ask politely, my friend there can get you some mops and a broom. You have one more thing to do before you go.”

He stared at her. “You’re not serious.”

Twilight simply met his gaze. After a few moments he dropped his eyes, and angrily said, “Porter! Spindle! Get those mops from that earther--- I mean, pink pony and let’s get this done!”

Quickly they cleaned up the floor around their table, or rather Porter and Spindle did most of the work while Spencer angrily brushed a few crumbs off the table for them to sweep up. His face became more and more flushed as Twilight, Pinkie and the Cakes watched them.

After a few moments Twilight said, “That’s good enough. You may go now.”

She stood partially blocking the door, which forced them to walk around her. Porter and Spindle did so with eyes downcast, each mumbling an apology. Spencer gritted his teeth but kept silent as he walked slowly out.

After they had gone Twilight turned to Pinkie and the Cakes. “I’m sorry that happened to you all. I’ll make sure those three leave in the morning.”

“Thanks, Twilight!” said Pinkie. “We don’t often get such mean meanypants as those guys. I’m glad you were here!”

“Yes, Princess, thank you!” said Mr. and Mrs. Cake, bowing as they did so.

Twilight waved them to their feet. “You know I prefer you didn’t do that. It’s alright; I’m just happy I was able to help.”

Porter and Spindle walked behind Spencer, wisely saying nothing to him or to each other as he fumed. They’d never seen him so angry, and they did not want to draw his attention to themselves. Porter’s resolve lasted until Spencer finally spoke.

“I don’t care if she is a Princess! I’m gonna make her pay for that!” Spencer growled as he and his companions went back to their rooms.

The other two exchanged a look, and then Porter finally said, “W…Wait a minute, boss…she is a Princess, like Celestia or Luna. You can’t do anything to her…nor…nor should you.” Here he gulped nervously. He certainly wasn’t used to speaking against his meal ticket.

Spencer stopped abruptly, then slowly turned and faced them both. After staring them down, he said, “Maybe you’d like to go back where I found you both. Would you like that?” They shook their heads. “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and let me do the thinking.” He turned and continued on his way, with the others following meekly behind.

As they walked up the steps to the Inn, Spencer held up one hoof and blocked Porter. “Why don’t you take the evening and think about speaking to me like that? I’m sure somepony as “sensitive” and “noble” as you can find somewhere to sleep tonight.” Without another word he walked in, with Spindle close on his heels. Spindle looked back for a second, but didn’t speak as the door shut behind him, leaving Porter out on the street.

Porter looked around. He had no bits of his own, and this looked like the only place that had rooms for hire in any case. The night was clear, with no sign of inclement weather, so that was good, in case he had to simply bunk out under the stars. But Spencer, Spindle and he had made themselves unwelcome, as they always had. Nopony would take him in, and he couldn’t blame them.

He gritted his teeth in his own turn as he remembered the circumstances that had brought him to this pass, and it was with no small amount of shame. He and Spindle had just been a couple of regular street ponies, with no ambitions of their own other than to get through the day without having to beg or barter what little they had for a decent night’s rest and some meager food. Then they had both met Spencer, and all it had taken was making him laugh once. They had soon discovered this pony was rolling in bits, and freely passed them out, at times, to those that amused him. So they both had taken on the role of flank-kissers and “yes-ponies”, for it sure beat living next to a dumpster.

He had relished the temporary fame he enjoyed, if only to be seen as somepony important, and if only for a little while. But now Spencer had shown a part of himself about which he seriously had reservations.

The Princesses were more than just rulers, they were the reason for everyponies’ existence. To defy them was to defy their own purpose, something which, even as low as he’d sunk, he did not want to do. Still, what was he to do? Go back to living hoof to mouth? Maybe do some menial labor just so he could eat but still have to sleep wherever? He doubted he’d ever make enough bits to have his own place. No, for better or worse, he’d chosen his path, and he was stuck with it. Indeed, his cutie mark was a hoof with bits being dropped into it, highlighted against his light orange coat. So this had to be his destiny.

Heaving a deep sigh, he looked around for a place in which he could sleep unnoticed, and just hope that by morning all would be forgiven by his benefactor.

About an hour had gone by, and he was just settling into sleep in an alleyway, when he heard his name being softly called. Surprised, he looked up. There, at the head of the alley, stood Spindle.

“I thought I’d find you somewhere like this,” he said.

“What are you doing here? If Spencer finds out you’ll be sleeping outside too.”

Spindle waved a hoof dismissively. “I’m pretty sure he’s asleep. Besides, you and I have looked out for each other far longer than we’ve known him. I’m not about to let you sleep on the street when I have a room I can share.”

Porter got to his feet and followed him out. “Thanks, buddy.” He indicated the alleyway. “Places like that bring back too many bad memories.”

Spindle looked at him as they walked. “Then why did you go back there?”

He shrugged. “Where else was I going to go? I’m sure we’ve ticked off enough ponies in this town, just like the ones before this one, and the ones before that, so nopony would have wanted me under their roof.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Spindle was silent for a moment, and then he added, “I don’t know how much more I can take from this guy. He’s alright when he’s alright, but like you said he shouldn’t try to do anything to that Princess, and I really don’t want to be around him if he does.”

Porter stopped abruptly. “Then why are we going back there? Just to have a roof over our heads tonight, only to be treated the way I was again tomorrow?”

Spindle reached back and pulled him forward, making him resume walking. “Don’t be stupid. You and I don’t have a bit to our names. We’re not going back to sleeping in alleys and doing petty theft just to eat!” he said in a fierce undertone. “You just stick with me and say as little as possible to Spencer. For tonight, you can sleep on the couch in my room.”

After a few moments he added, “I have a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

Spindle was silent for a few steps, then said, “It’s only a matter of time before he gets bored with both of us. Before that happens we’re both going to need lots of bits and the assurance of lots more. We can only make him laugh so many times. Before I’m done, you and I will be the ones laughing.”

They made it back to the Inn. “Go around to the back door, and I’ll sneak you in. Be gone before that guy wakes up in the morning.”

Porter hesitated again. Spindle looked at him with irritation. “Now what?”

“He’s a jerk, but you don’t plan on hurting him, right? We don’t need that kind of trouble.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? C’mon, you know me better than that. I’ve never deliberately hurt another pony in my life, and I’m not about to start. You just go back there and wait. I’ll let you in and we’ll talk about it upstairs.”

Deceptions

The rest of the week Spencer and his companions spent their time making rounds to every place in Ponyville that looked as if it needed help.

The local bank was put on notice to expect a request for a large amount of bits in cash in a few days. Spencer wrote to his father why he needed that much, and gave the letter to Porter to mail it. Porter did as he was told, and went to the post office. He then proceeded to remove the stamp and put it on a letter Spindle had given him, and mailed that instead. He kept Spencer’s letter hidden away.

It was decided by Spencer, with Spindle’s humble suggestion, that the Ponyville Orphanage was most in need, and therefore most suitable to involve Princess Twilight. Later on that week, Spencer met with the director alone, and while speaking with her he promised to make a large donation in Princess Twilight’s name.

The director, Ms. Heart Rose, had not heard about Spencer and his companion’s actions yet, but she was automatically uneasy. She didn’t know Twilight personally, so she didn’t know if this was something she would do.

“Aren’t you new to Ponyville, Mr. Fortune? Why would the Princess want or need you to do anything in her name?”

“I’ve only just met her, but she strikes me as somepony who deeply cares about Ponyville,” said Spencer smoothly. “She made quite an impression on me, and I must admit I have some making up to do of my own.”

“What do you mean?”

“My behavior was a little….subpar that first night, and I promised the Princess I would make up for it in any way I can.”

“But why here? Why the orphanage? I know of no wrong done to us.”

“We’ve been around to lots of places, Ms. Rose, and I must say this establishment needs my help the most. Surely you can use the bits?”

“H-How much are we talking about?”

Gotcha, thought Spencer.

“How much do you need?”

She paused, then said a number. Without hesitating, Spencer doubled it. If Ms. Rose had not already been sitting, she would have fallen down. As it was, she needed to put a hoof to her forehead.

“That’s…that’s VERY generous, Mr. Fortune!”

“Please, call me Spencer.”

“All…alright…Spencer. W-When can we expect this…donation?”

“As soon as the Ponyville bank can get that amount, which I expect to take three days. I’d write you a check, but I’d much rather give you the cash.”

“No, no! A check is fine! We’ve never had that much on hoof, I’m not sure it would be a good idea to start.”

“Indulge me. I’m sure it will be alright, and besides,” and here he dropped his voice, “I’d rather keep this amount between us. And the Princess, of course!”

She immediately became uneasy again. “Why is that?”

“Let’s just say I don’t want everypony to know I’m carrying that kind of cash. Even in a town as small as this, I’m sure there are some unsavory types. Besides, I don’t want to be known as being this generous. It can bring out the worst in ponies who might otherwise be decent.” Here he gave her a long look.

She reddened, but stood and stuck out her hoof. “Your secret is safe with me…Spencer.”

He rose and shook her hoof. “In three days, then.”

Sucker, he thought to himself as he left to meet up with Porter and Spindle, for the last destination. So preoccupied was he with his own cleverness he did not notice the real Ms. Heart Rose, who had been kept out in town for almost half an hour by a bumbling, pathetic and apologetic stranger, returning to her office.

Finally, they went to Sugarcube Corner, where they were met with hostility by the Cakes. Pinkie remained silent, watching them.

“What are you three doing back in here?” asked Mr. Cake.

Porter did the talking this time. “We all just wanted to say how sorry we are, again, for the trouble we caused that night.” He and Spindle bowed their heads and folded their ears, followed a few seconds later by Spencer.

“If there’s anything we can do, just let us know,” continued Porter.

A rude retort was forming on Mr. Cake’s lips when his wife interrupted him.

“That’s quite alright; as long as you all are sorry and promise not to behave that way again, all is forgiven. Right, honey?” She nudged her husband.

“Er…right, sure,” he said.

“We promise,” all three replied.

Pinkie brightened like a light bulb. “Great!” she said, bouncing up and down. “We need to throw you a ‘We Messed Up But We’re Super-Duper Sorry!’ party!”

Porter looked back at his companions. “Umm…okay,” he said, turning back to Pinkie. “That would be alright. When would it be?”

“We could have it tomorrow night!”

“I don’t know…” he began, but was interrupted by Spencer.

“Tomorrow night it is. We’ll be there.”

The party was quite informal and, for Pinkie, quite subdued. She and the Cakes were there of course, along with Fluttershy, Rarity and with great reluctance, Twilight. Spencer and his companions made up the rest of the roster, and after some initial awkwardness the groups started to mingle.

Twilight found herself talking to Porter, along with Rarity.

“So what have you three been up to? Adjusting to Ponyville?”

“Yes, Your Highness, we have,” said he. “Mostly we’ve been scouting out places that need help.”

Twilight and Rarity exchanged a look, then Twilight said, “What do you mean, ‘places that need help’?”

“You know: places that could use a few extra bits. You may not realize this about him, but Spencer is quite generous.”

“I did not realize that, as a matter of fact. I thought he was just snobbish.”

“I concur,” said Rarity. “Why he even called Pinkie Pie an earther, from what I’ve heard.”

“You heard correctly,” said Spencer as he walked up behind them. “I apologized then, and I still am sorry for that now.”

“You didn’t actually volunteer an apology, Spencer,” said Twilight.

He shrugged. “But I still did so. Everypony makes mistakes. Can’t we just forget it? Pinkie has, or she wouldn’t have thrown us this great party.”

Twilight considered, then said, “I suppose we can and should. That’s what friends do.”

Spencer smiled. “Are we now friends, Princess?”

“Not exactly yet, but I’m still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Just so long as you continue to give me reason to do so.”

“Then what I have to tell you should please you immensely: I’m making a huge donation to the Ponyville Orphanage in your name.”

Twilight stood there stunned for a moment, as her face became flush with anger. Spencer, Porter and even Rarity took a step back at the expression on her face, as Twilight finally found her voice and shouted,

“WHAT GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DO ANYTHING IN MY NAME?!”

The entire party grew silent and all eyes were on Twilight and Spencer.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness!” he said. “I just wanted to do something nice for the orphans, and I already know how much you care about Ponyville so I thought it would be a good gesture if you approved of it,” said Spencer, almost word for word as he’d been suggested by Spindle.

Through clenched teeth she said, “You. Should have. Asked. Me. FIRST!”

“Again, I didn’t mean anything bad. I wanted to do something really nice while I’m out here, and I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me yet. I can tell the Orphanage it was a mistake.”

“No, it’s not the donation, it’s me being included without my permission. Next time, talk to me first, I’m not that hard to find.”

Turning to the others in the room, she said, “Sorry for that outburst. Please, everyone go on with the party.” Addressing Spencer she said, “Let’s talk alone. Excuse us you two.”

Rarity nodded and drifted back over to Pinkie and Spindle, with Porter following her. Twilight and Spencer found a relatively quiet corner.

“When are you making this donation?” she whispered.

“I’m just waiting for the cash to be delivered to the Ponyville Bank.”

She paused. “I don’t want to know how much it is right now, but why cash? Why not just cut them a check?”

Spencer sighed. “Because I know you don’t trust me, I wanted you to see for yourself the cash.”

“That at least was a good assumption, because I still don’t trust you.”

“I thought not. Hence my decision to make it cash.”

Twilight paused for a few moments, staring silently at him. Finally she said, “I do want to see it before you take it out there. When will that be?”

“In a few days, probably two or three.”

“I want to be informed the moment it’s ready for my inspection, Spencer. Now you can tell me how much it is.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He then mentioned half of what was coming in, without telling her the true amount. She’d find that out later.

Gotcha

The Long Con

The money was available to be picked up from the bank in two days.

“Do you want us to go pick it up, boss?” asked Porter.

“Who is ‘us’? You and Spindle?”

“Yes, boss.”

“As if I’d trust you two that far! That would be funny if it weren’t so stupid. No, I’m coming with you. You two can carry the money back here, but I’m making sure it’s all there.”

Quickly they made their way to the bank. After about half an hour, once all the forms were filled out and the money counted twice by Spencer, the cash was loaded into four saddlebags. Porter and Spindle each strapped on two, and they then made it back to their rooms without incident.

“Now take half of the money and hide it in your room, Spindle. Then let’s go get that “princess,” said Spencer.

As they walked to the library, Spencer kept his voice down but said, “This is working out just as you suggested, Spindle.” He looked back at him. “Well done.”

Spindle smiled a smile all his own. “Thanks, boss.”

As Spencer faced forward again, Porter and Spindle exchanged a knowing look.

Present Day

Now clad in her black clothing, Pinkie kept to the shadows as she wended her way across the streets of Canterlot. First she had to find Spencer, then the others. The punishment he’d gotten from his father and from the authorities in Ponyville had been light, and the others had gotten away completely.

Far too light, she thought to herself.

Underneath her hood, her hair had gone completely straight.

Ponyville, one week earlier

All was quiet at the Ponyville Orphanage. After taking one last look at her charges to make sure they were all safe in their beds, Ms. Heart Rose went wearily to her office/apartment. She tried to flick on the light, but it wasn’t working. Sighing at yet another expense, she made her way over to the desk to light a candle. Suddenly, in the dark, she felt movement.

“Is-is somepony there?” she asked fearfully.

“No,” said a voice behind her.

Before she could cry out, a hoof was placed over her muzzle, and a male voice whispered in her ear, “Unless you want these dear orphans to sleep for eternity, don’t scream. Got me?” She frantically nodded her head, her eyes wide and frightened.

Another male voice said, “Tie her up, and stick her in that back room.”

Once this was done, the second speaker whispered, “This will all be over soon, darlin’. Just keep quiet, and in about an hour we’ll let you go.” He started to close the door, then stopped and said, “If it helps, we’re not here to hurt the children, we’re just getting back at a pony who deserves it. You and these kids are safe.” With that he closed the door.

Spike was snoring soundly, dreaming of eating a huge diamond and ruby-encrusted cake, when suddenly there was a frantic hammering on the door.

“Who the HAY could that be?!” Stumbling out of bed, he went to answer the door.

“WHAT?!” he yelled as he yanked it open. There before him were two of those three jerks that had made such fools of themselves earlier that week.

One of them begged, “Please, we have to talk to the Princess! It’s urgent!”

“I’m awake,” came a sleepy voice from upstairs. Soon Twilight appeared at the stairs, and recognized Spindle and Porter. “What are you two doing here, and at this hour?”

They both bowed. Spindle said, “Your Highness, we have urgent news. Our employer is trying to trick you!”

“What are you talking about? Get up and come inside. Spike, please make us some tea.” As Spike grumpily went to the kitchen, the three sat themselves down. “Now what’s this all about?” she asked.

Spindle looked at Porter, then said, “Spencer has no intention of giving the amount he told you to the orphanage. Tomorrow, we were going to take half back to the bank and redeposit it. He just wanted you to see it to gain your confidence!”

Twilight listened with growing anger. “Where is Spencer now?”

“He’s still in bed, we think,” said Porter. “But that’s not all: along with giving the orphanage half of what he said, he was going to drop hints that you knew the true amount, and might be keeping it for yourself!”

Twilight was shocked into silence. Finally she said, “Nopony in Ponyville would ever believe such a story. That plan was doomed to failure. But he IS going to give all that money to the orphanage!”

She looked them both full in the face as Spike came back in with the tea. “The question is, why did you both tell me this?” she said.

They both hung their heads. “We’ve been his flank kissers for far too long. When you humiliated him that night, he vowed revenge.”

Here Spindle met her eyes. “You are a Princess…we couldn’t let him do anything to you.” A single tear rolled down his face.

Twilight smiled. “Thank you. If there’s anything I can do for you two—“

“There is!” cried Porter. “You can give us some money for tickets out of here.” He looked at Spindle. “We called him our employer, but the truth is he only had us around for laughs. He never paid us a bit.”

“That’s horrible!” said Spike.

“Indeed,” said Twilight. “I’m sure I can. Spike, go to the money chest. Take out enough for two tickets to…where are you two wanting to go?”

“We don’t dare go to Canterlot. His father is there, and once he finds out about his son he may take it out on us.”

“So where?”

Spindle and Porter spoke quietly to each other for a moment. Then Spindle said, “We hear Baltimare is nice this time of year.”

“That’s acceptable.” She moved to the cupboard and took out quill and paper.

“Spike, send this letter off to Princess Luna as soon as you take care of them. I’m going to need a couple of guards.”

For the second time that night, a door was banged upon. This time it was Spencer’s.

“WHAT?!” he yelled.

“Open up in the name of the Princess!” cried a male voice.

“Huh?” said Spencer, as he stumbled to the door and opened it. There stood Princess Twilight, flanked by two Royal Guards.

“P-Princess? What—what’s this all about?”

“You know perfectly well “what this is all about!”” she said. “Don’t bother trying to lie. This was all a scam, and I know what your plans were with that money. Your former employees told me everything.”

Spencer’s face, which had been first sleepy, then irritated, now contorted with rage. “Those two don’t know their plots from a hole in the ground! It’s all lies!”

“Oh really? Then you won’t mind giving the entire amount to the orphanage right now.”

Too late he saw his mistake. But there was no way he could just give away that kind of money without serious repercussions from his father!

“Now, wait a minute, Your Highness. I’m sure the director is asleep now. Why don’t we do this in the morning?”

In answer, she turned to her guards. “Search the room.” She could not remember ever being so angry.

“Hang on! I have rights!”

“Stop,” she said to the guards. Getting up in Spencer’s face, she said, “Answer me one thing: are you, or are you NOT going to keep your word and give that money to the orphanage?”

He wavered. If he said ‘no’ he was breaking his word. If ‘yes’ then he was out more money than his father would forgive in a year, if ever. Goodbye traveling, goodbye partying, goodbye everything but his name. But in that moment…he realized his name was far more important.

Committing what was probably his first act of maturity, he squared his shoulders and said two words clearly:

“I am.”

The “director” heard the door being quietly knocked upon. She made sure to tousle her mane as if she’d been sleeping, counted to twenty, and then opened the door. Four ponies stood there. Two were guards, one was Princess Twilight, and the other was that nice young pony named Spencer.

“Can I help you all? What’s this about?” she whispered.

“Please ma’am. May we come in?” Twilight whispered back.

“Certainly, but please keep your voices down, as all the children are still sleeping,” she said, pulling her bathrobe closed. “Am I in trouble?”

Twilight smiled. “No, far from it. Mr. Fortune has something he wanted to give you.” The two guards came forward and quietly deposited the four saddlebags on the floor.

“Is-is this what I think it is?” she asked.

Twilight looked at Spencer, who gritted his teeth and said, “Yes. Yes it is. Every. Last. Bit.”

She put one hoof up to her face and sobbed while being careful not to shed any actual tears and ruin her stage makeup. “I don’t know what to say! Thank you, young sir!”

“You’re. Welcome,” managed Spencer.

“We won’t take up any more of your time, Ms. Rose. The hour is late, and I’m sure you have a full day ahead of you!” said Twilight. So saying she led the others out. Spencer lingered a moment longer, gazing at the saddlebags, then followed Twilight and the guards.

As soon as they’d gone she locked the door and gave a huge sigh of relief. She pulled off the false mane. Spindle and Porter came out from a back room and Spindle slowly applauded. “Nice work, Mimic.”

Mimic gave a theatrical bow, and said, “I almost didn’t come. When I got your letter I thought this might be a joke.” She prodded the bags. “I’m glad I came!”

“Good,” said Spindle. “Now let’s divvy up the dough, put that director mare where she can be found by these brats in the morning, then make tracks out of here.”

“Where are we going?” asked Porter.

“You and I are going to Canterlot. Mimic, you may go where you please.”

“Wait, why Canterlot?! That’s the first place they’ll look for us!” said Porter.

“No,” said Spindle. “It’s the last place they’d expect us to go.”

Taking the contents of one saddlebag and distributing it evenly to the other three, they each hoisted their new wealth onto themselves, then got the director out of the back room.

Spindle looked down at the frightened, tied and blindfolded mare and said, “I meant what I said earlier: we’re not here to hurt you or these kids. You did good by not making any noise, so here’s a reward.” He placed a few bits on the floor next to her head.

Turning to the others he said, “Let’s go.”

Twisting the Knife

Present Night

Pinkie now ran through the streets of Canterlot. Fortune Manor was just ahead, and somewhere inside was just one of the ponies she sought. She didn’t foresee much problem with getting inside, as manors in Canterlot seldom had guards. And as for locked doors and windows...hah! Those were TOO easy.

She took a moment as she stood before the gates, allowing her Pinkie sense to wash over her. Scaling up and over the obstructions, she instinctively went for the left wing of the mansion, where she could possibly force open a window. A large expanse of green lawn dotted with elms, now faded to grey in the moonlight, spread before her. If anypony happened to look out one of the windows facing her, all they might have seen was a dark shadow that passed from tree to tree. They would have blinked, perhaps rubbed their eyes, but they would have simply dismissed what they saw.

Now she was against the mansion wall, where there were many windows within her reach. Testing each one, she found one that was unlocked and she slowly eased it up and let herself in. She doubted they’d be this lax again after tonight, but that was a problem for another day.

Before her was a hallway lined with mahogany paneling. The floor was made of the same rich red wood, with tapestried carpet runners down the middle. Crystal sconces that held carved electric bulbs, now muted, were spaced evenly along each side of the walls. Pinkie inhaled quietly, and could detect a faint aroma of sandalwood. Though the Pies were quite wealthy, and she was an heiress to the Pie rock farm, the Pies never flaunted their riches in this manner. Even so, she’d visited many mansions with her parents and had a good idea of the general layout. Moving quickly but quietly she searched for Spencer’s room.

This place is probably crawling with servants in the daytime, Pinkie thought to herself, so finding Spencer’s room shouldn’t be that hard now.

She figured his room would be the second best elaborate next to his father’s, so she examined each door until she found the one she needed. Easing it open, she peered inside. There he was, sitting at a desk. The only light was a lamp on the desk beside him. Closing the door, it gave a creak that probably wouldn’t have been noticed during the day, but now in the stillness of the night it rang out like a shot.

“Wha…Porter? Is that you? Spencer said with irritation. “I told you I don’t have the money yet.”

“It’s not Porter,” said Pinkie.

Jumping to his feet he cried out, “Who ARE you?! Dad….!” but he was quickly tackled and a surprisingly strong hoof was placed over his mouth. With his eyes as wide as dinner plates he stared up at his assailant, and frantically shook his head ‘no!’

“Be QUIET!” she hissed at him. One more loud noise out of you and I’ll make you regret it. Understand?” He nodded as she slowly removed her hoof.

“Who-who are you?” he quavered.

She looked down at him without pity. “Let’s just say I’m a pony who’s had enough of you and ponies like you.”

Here he visibly relaxed and said with bitterness, “Then you hate me as much as my Dad.” This was not the answer she was expecting at all.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she let him go.

“What do you care? Beat me up, kill me, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

She paused. “I’m not here to kill you,” she said slowly.

“Then what are you here for? Nothing you can do to me is worse than what’s already happened.” He remained on the floor and started to weep angry tears.

Moved despite herself, she asked, “What has happened? I thought you’d just been banished from Ponyville.”

“Don’t you know? Of course not, how could you?” He raised himself to a sitting position, wiped his face and looked her in the eyes.Taking a deep breath, he explained.

“I just wanted to have fun. I had two ponies willing to do anything to make me laugh, just for a place to sleep and some food. Everything was going great until I ran into that “Princess” Twilight. She humiliated me in front of other ponies, and I thought getting revenge on her was important.” Here he gave a hollow laugh. “It turns out she is Princess Celestia’s personal student! I couldn’t have picked a worse pony to mess with than her. Once my father found out, he ordered me back here, stripped me of everything and confined me to the mansion. I can’t even leave this ROOM without his permission! But that’s not all,” he continued, “my father lost his seat on the city council, and from what I hear we may become bankrupt over this!”

“But you want to hear the funny part? I really was going to give some money to that orphanage, but those two tricked me and took it all! If I could prove to my father my intentions, he might relent, but I can’t do anything without that letter!”

“What letter?” she asked.

“The one I wrote to him while I was in Ponyville. The one where I explained I just needed some funds to play a trick on a pony, but I was going to give half away to a good cause.” Here he laughed again. “The one letter I don’t have, because those two won’t give it to me unless I pay them!”

Pinkie sat and thought. Then she said, “I don’t understand why you just don’t write him another letter.”

He smiled and said, “Because it was written and dated on the Ponyville Inn stationary. If I tried to pass off a fake latter to my father, there’s no telling what he’d do. Besides,” he continued, “as bad as other ponies perceive me to be, I’ve never lied to my Dad. That I can’t do. But he doesn’t believe me. He thinks I have ALL the money hidden away somewhere, so I can’t go anywhere or do anything until I tell him where it is.”

Pinkie sat quietly, thinking. Finally she said, “It seems to me you got yourself into your predicament, first treating those two the way you did, then trying to trick Twilight. You’re confined to a mansion, and that’s a bad thing? I’ve known ponies who would give anything to be able to sleep underneath one of your trees, let alone stay in a room such as this.” She paused again, then said, “But it seems to me you weren’t the worse one in this whole mess. Porter and Spindle have a lot to answer for, even if they were just looking out for themselves. So maybe we can help each other.”

“How?”

“You thought I was Porter, so obviously you’re expecting them to show up.”

“Yes, but I never know when that will be. It could be tonight, it could be next week. Either way it doesn’t matter; I don’t have access to any money and they don’t believe me. Nopony believes me.”

Pinkie hesitated, then slowly removed her hood.

“I believe you.”

“YOU! I know you…you’re that pink pony that gave us that party in Ponyville! What’s your name again?”

“Pinkie Pie.”

“That’s right! And wait…I remember reading about you. I’ve had a lot of time to catch up on things I should have known before I went to Ponyville. You’re…one of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony. ‘Kindness’, correct?

“No, ‘Laughter’.”

Spencer looked at her. “You don’t seem very happy.”

“‘Laughter’ isn’t happiness, it’s ‘optimism’. And no, I don’t feel very much like laughing right now.” She paused again, then said, “But I do think it’s time I met your Dad.”

Nocturnal Meeting

Spencer Fortune Senior was a singular pony. He and his family had come from old money, but his ruthlessness in business had caused their accounts to grow exponentially. He’d made many enemies, but he’d always picked them out beforehoof, weighed the risks, and carefully laid whatever traps he’d needed. The same with his friends: they were hoof-selected, and only remained so as long as they were of use. All were strategies he had somehow failed to pass onto his only son and heir.

He briefly considered how his son may have turned out if his mother had still been alive, but then he pushed the idea away. His son’s actions in Ponyville had shown a fundamental weakness and immaturity. He doubted his Thistle could have made any difference.

He forced his thoughts back to the problem at hoof. What were the odds of his son not only running into a PRINCESS, for Celestia’s sake, but also running afoul of her? And now he’d been “asked” to leave the city council, a seat his family had held for generations. The shame had almost been too much to bear.

There has to be a way out of this MESS, he thought to himself. A chronic insomniac, he was up very late going over possibilities when there was a soft knock at his bedroom door. Looking up from his desk, he angrily said, “Who is it?”

There was a moment of silence, then a timid voice said, “Dad? It’s me. There’s somepony I need you to talk to.”

“What the hay are you talking about?! Come in!”

The door opened slowly, and there stood his wretched son, who still couldn’t meet his eyes. Spencer Sr. felt a brief moment of nausea at his son’s weakness, then looked behind him to the pony that stood there.

“Who are YOU, and what are you doing in my house? Did my son let you in?”

Pinkie Pie entered the room, followed closely by Spencer Jr.

“No sir, he didn’t, I made my way in on my own. My name is Pinkie Pie. I’m from Ponyville, and I came here to confront your son.”

Spencer Sr. snorted. “Confront HIM? I’m sure that wasn’t a challenge.”

Spencer Jr. winced, and his expression grew dark, but he kept silent.

“But you have about ten seconds to explain why you had the gall to enter my home unannounced.” He pressed a button beneath his desk.

“This won’t take long. I understand your son’s actions have caused personal trouble for you. I may be able to help.”

“And how could you possibly do that? You have the money he stole from me?”

“I didn’t steal it, Dad! I told you-"

“QUIET!! This is twice you’ve defied me, because I also told you not to leave your room. So shut up until I say otherwise!”

Behind them, two burly earth ponies in dark glasses entered the room, closed the door and silently waited.

Spencer Sr. smiled. Steepling his hooves in front of him he said, “As you can see, I don’t call the police, Ms. Pie… I have my own way of dealing with intruders.” He nodded once.

The two rushed forward, intent on grabbing Pinkie as Spencer dived out of the way, but she was no longer there. They both looked around in confusion, when a voice behind them said, “Here I am, boys!” They spun around and saw her, then quickly peeled off, one to her left and one to her right.

Pinkie lightly bounced on her hooves, waiting.

They approached her slowly this time, then rushed forward again, but instead of trying to grab her, one swung high and one swung low. Pinkie somersaulted backwards up into the air, reached down in mid-flip and lightly honked both their noses, then landed a few feet away. Now this is FUN!

The one on her left roared in frustration, then swung as hard as he could at her, trying to knock her down. Pinkie barely seemed to move as the blow that could have seriously hurt her passed harmlessly over her head. His momentum carried him forward, and she sidestepped him as he crashed headlong into a wall. He stood there for a few moments, then slid bonelessly down it, out cold.

The remaining goon cried out and ran forward. Standing on his hind legs he jabbed and swung at her as quickly and as hard as he could, but every blow that should have connected met only air as Pinkie’s Pinkie sense turned her into a blur of movement. Panting, exhausted, he readied himself for a final attempt when he was stopped by Spencer Sr.’s voice behind him.

“Enough.”

“But…but Mr. Fortune…”

“I said ‘enough’. It’s plain you two aren’t up to the job. Grab that other one and get out. You’re both fired.”

The goon looked like he was going to further protest, but then he wordlessly walked over to his companion, picked him up and left, closing the door behind him. Pinkie stood where she was as both Spencers looked at her with new eyes. Finally Spencer Sr. said, “It seems I underestimated you. How did you do that?”

Pinkie smiled and shook her head.

He nodded. “I had to ask. If you’re still willing, you were saying something about helping me? After that, I can’t blame you if you say no.”

Pinkie said, “The problem still remains, Mr. Fortune, and I think I’m your best answer. Your problem is less about the money, and more about your family reputation, correct?”

“Perhaps.”

“Your son told me what really happened, and I believe him. Suppose we can make it right?”

“That was a mistake, Ms. Pie, believing anything he said. But go on, how can you “make it right?” “

“Porter and Spindle have a letter proving your son’s intentions. Granted, it was still mean, but he was going to make that contribution. All we need is that letter.”

Spencer Sr. slammed his hoof down on the desk. “And why should a mere letter make any difference?! All it would prove is my son is a worse fool than I thought he was, allowing himself to be tricked by a couple of street ponies!”

“That’s just the point: he was tricked. And I would vouch for him before the Princess Twilight.”

“Princess Twilight? Why should she believe you?”

“Because she is my friend, and I am one of the Bearers of the Elements.”

Spencer Sr.’s eyes grew wide. “Pinkie Pie. I KNEW I’d heard that name before!” Now his manner became almost friendly. Almost.

“You may very well be able to help me, Ms. Pie. But where are my manners? Please, have a seat.” He indicated one of the chairs before his desk. Spencer started to also seat himself, when his father stopped him.

“Not you. Go back to your room.”

“He needs to be here as well, Mr. Fortune. It’s important.”

He looked at his son, who for the first time was meeting his eyes, if still hesitantly.

“Alright. Take a seat, foal.”

Mr. Fortune glowered at him as he sat, then turned to Pinkie.

“What’s your plan?”

A Lesson in Friendship

In an expensive hotel suite, rented under an assumed name, Spindle and Porter were making up for all the lost opportunities under which they’d suffered. They ate whenever and whatever they choose, their massive closets were bursting with new Canterlot fashions, and they had lost count of the pleasant curvaceous company they’d entertained. But somehow, for Spindle, it wasn’t enough. Something was missing.

As Porter was stuffing himself with yet another banquet from room service, Spindle gazed thoughtfully out the balcony. Below, the streets were still teeming with many ponies going to and fro about their business, as the sun was just being lowered for the early evening. Its last rays shone in the balcony windows and illuminated the room. Spindle turned and silently watched Porter for a few moments.

“You’re going to be as big as a house soon, you keep eating like that,” he finally said. Porter just grinned, and kept eating. Spindle turned away in disgust. After a few more moments of the evening air being filled with the sounds of Porter’s chewing, Spindle at last said, “It’s not enough.”

Coming up for air, Porter asked, “What’s ‘not enough’?”

Spindle gestured around them. “All this. It’s not enough.”

Burping, Porter said, “What are you talking about? What more do we need?” Picking up some carrots out of a bowl, he laid them one by one out on a clear spot on the table. “One: we have more bits than the two of us can spend. Two: we don’t have to take orders from anypony. Three: we got back at that jerk for his humiliating us all those years and Five: we made him look like a fool in front of his old dad.” Popping the last carrot in his mouth he added, “That’s the sweetest part of all.”

Spindle shook his head. “You skipped ‘four.’”

Porter looked down at his example, counted the carrots, and then felt around in his mouth with his tongue for the last one.

“Oh yeah…I did. Okay, four then. Four points is good enough for me.”

Spindle turned back to the window. “It’s not enough for me. We just humiliated him. I want to hurt him, really hurt him, in a way he won’t recover from.”

Finally growing serious, Porter asked, “But why? We can move on and forget him and his father. We’re set, we haven’t really broken any laws, and we don’t need to do any more to them.”

Spindle turned on him. “Don’t you see?! Ponies like him and his dad look down their noses at ponies like us. Even though we have bits, we’ll never be seen as good as them! Once our money runs out, we’re back where we were, only WORSE, because we got a taste of the good life!” He turned back to the window once more, and spoke in an intense whisper, “We have to make them really pay…”

Porter gazed at his friend, and then grabbed a bottle of hard cider and brought it over to him. Placing a hoof over his shoulder, he said, “I think you need a drink worse than I do.” Spindle at first did nothing, then took the bottle from him and finished it in several deep swallows.

“Better?”

“A little. But the problem still remains.”

Giving his shoulders a hug, Porter said, “Why don’t you give your demons a rest for the night? I can get us some company; I think Mandi and Kandi can be up here within the hour if I still have their numbers.”

Spindle gave him a wistful look, then gently disengaged himself from his hoof. “That might be good.” He sighed. “I wish I had your outlook. I hate being this way.”

Playfully punching him on the shoulder, Porter added, “You’ll be alright. Good food, pleasant company, and a good night’s sleep, you’ll be as right as rain.”

Spindle said nothing.

*****

“…and then she took me to the orphanage, and made me give all those bits to the mare I thought was the Headmaster,” Spencer said.

“When was the last time you saw Porter and Spindle?” asked Pinkie.

“That evening. Since then, I’ve only gotten a note from them, which I tried to show you, Dad!”

Spencer Sr. waved this away. “How was I supposed to know any such note was real? I still don’t know, for that matter.”

“Please show us the note,” said Pinkie.

Giving his father a sour look, Spencer got up to go get it. In his absence, Pinkie turned to Spencer Sr. and asked, “How well do you know those two?”

Drawing himself up he replied, “I make it my business to know everything about everypony around me. Those two were and are just a couple of streetponies, not worth a second look. Which is why I don’t believe my son: either they’re smarter than they appear, or he’s abysmally stupid.”

Pinkie couldn’t hide the look of disappointment she gave him.

Flushing with anger he said, “You don’t approve of me, do you Ms. Pie? Well, that’s too bad, because my being this way has made me immensely rich and powerful! I have everything I need, except it seems, a worthy heir.”

Pinkie sadly shook her head. “No, Mr. Fortune, you don’t have everything. I come from a rich family myself, but if I had to I’d trade everything to get what I already have: true friends.”

He scoffed. “'Friendship'! It’s a myth, Ms. Pie! There’s only two kinds of ponies: those that have, and those that don’t. The ones that don’t, they want what you have, be it money, time, or self-serving relationships. That’s it.”

As Spencer Jr. returned, Pinkie saw it was a losing battle, so she only replied, “Alright then, Mr. Fortune.” Turning to Spencer Jr. she held out a hoof for the note, which he wordlessly passed to her. She read it quickly.

“It says here they’ll give you the letter if you give them ten million bits.”

Spencer Sr. laughed without mirth. “That’s a joke, because they know I’ll never agree to such a sum! It’s all a ruse to further humiliate my son and myself.”

Ignoring this, Pinkie said, “I already asked your father this, so let me ask you: how well do you know these two. What are they like?”

Spencer Jr. scowled. “Why is that important? What does it matter?”

“It matters because the more we know about them, the easier it will be to figure out their motivations.”

Now it was Spencer Jr.’s turn to scoff. “That’s easy! They want money, pure and simple.”

“Maybe,” said Pinkie. “This seems personal to me, far beyond just a few bits.”

“Ten million isn’t just “a few bits”, Ms. Pie! Your family may be well off, but I doubt they could laugh off that much,” said Sr.

She shook her head. “No we couldn’t, but that’s beside the point. You said it yourself, Mr. Fortune: they’re trying to humiliate you. I don’t need to ask why they hate you and your son, but maybe we can make this right. It’s time I head back to Ponyville, and involve my friends.”

“And what good would THAT do?” asked Sr.

Pinkie looked at him. “You say you know everything about everypony that you need to. Then you know the deeds my friends and I have accomplished. We can help.”

“Why would they help me?”

“Because that’s what we do.”

Spencer's New Reality

Pinkie sat quietly thinking as the train made its way back to Ponyville. As somber and as silent as she was, it was nothing next to her reluctant travel companion.

Spencer had never been without money. Even as a foal, his parents had always made sure he had larger allowances than any of his schoolmates, so he had always taken being rich for granted. But now…now he was on a train with a pony that should by all rights hate him, traveling without a bit to his name.

It had taken some major convincing on Pinkie’s part for his father to allow him to travel beyond his sight, but he adamantly refused to give him a single coin. Only Pinkie’s assurance that she would take care of everything caused him to finally agree.

“If this doesn’t work, foal, you’ll never see another penny from me!” he said as they boarded the train.

Spencer hung his head, as Pinkie sadly looked at them both.

“Thanks Dad. I love you too.”

Spencer Sr. snorted, and he and his new guards walked away.

Now on the train for some hours, Spencer couldn’t help giving Pinkie suspicious looks from time to time. Why is she doing this? What’s her angle? These were the thoughts that plagued him as they clipped along. Finally the pressure was too much for him.

Clearing his throat he said, “Can I ask you a question? Why are you helping me? What are you getting out of it?”

Hearing the anger in his voice, Pinkie considered her answer before speaking.

“This may be hard for you to understand,” she finally said, “but some things are just the right thing to do. You and your father may honestly be beyond my help, but helping you is the right thing to do.”

“So again…what do you get out of it?”

She sighed. “I just told you.”

Spencer stared at her. “That doesn’t make any sense. Everypony wants something, everypony has a price. You’re trying to tell me you’re helping me just "because"? I don’t believe it.”

She sighed again and faced the window. “You’ll see.”

*****

As the train pulled into Ponyville, Pinkie saw a sight that made her hair poof back up: all of her friends, including Spike, were anxiously waiting and watching for her arrival. She bounded off the train, and bowled them all over.

“You have NO idea how much I missed you guys!” she cried.

“We missed you too, Pinkie,” managed Twilight as she strained for breath.

“Oops! Sorry!” Pinkie said as she released her deathgrip. The ponies all let out a collective gasp for air. As they all chattered and laughed together, Spencer crept out of the train with his one bag, and stood resentfully off to one side. He wasn’t allowed to stand there long, as Pinkie turned and introduced him to the ponies he hadn’t met. Spencer didn’t look up or reply when the names were read off, and an uncomfortable silence grew between them.

Finally Twilight said, “I can see this is hard for you, Spencer, but know we’ll do whatever we can to help.”

“Why?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why are you helping me? I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

“Listen, jerk, Twilight told us what you did. If I were you I’d show a little gratitude!” said Rainbow. Spencer smirked.

“Now that’s an attitude I understand,” he said.

“Why you—“ she began, but Twilight cut her off.

“It’s okay, Rainbow. We didn’t agree to be his friend, just to help him. I suppose it’s too much to ask for him to change.”

“You still haven’t told me ‘why.’”

Twilight sighed. “I don’t think I have an answer you’d understand.”

“Whatever.”

At this Rainbow started to flare up again, along with AJ, but Twilight said, “Why don’t you get him situated, Pinkie? We can all talk again afterwards.”

“Okie dokie, Twilight! C’mon, Spencer!” said Pinkie as she bounced in place. “Sugarcube Corner is this way!”

“I know where it is. Let’s just get this over with.”

“See you guys!” she called over her shoulder. Spencer trudged along behind her, levitating his bag, which caused his resentment only to grow. He never had to carry his own things before.

“What’s your problem?” he said as they walked along.

“What do you mean?” asked Pinkie.

“The bouncing. The mane. You’re acting weird.”

“This is ME, silly! Seeing my friends has made me so happy!”

“Well, could you rein it in? It’s getting on my nerves.”

At this her mane deflated slightly, and she stopped bouncing. “Sorry, Spencer. I know some ponies find me hard to be around sometimes. But there’s something we obviously need to get straight.” She stopped in her tracks and looked him dead in the eyes. “I love being me. I love my friends. We’re all trying to help you. So I think it is you who needs to change your attitude. Do you understand me?”

He backed up a few steps and said, “Okay, sure, fine, whatever you say.” Then he had the decency to drop his gaze first. Satisfied her point had been made, she turned and started on their way again.

After a few more minutes walking he said,” Why are we going to Sugarcube Corner again? I’m not hungry.”

“This is where you’ll be staying,” she replied.

“What?! I’m not staying in a bakery! You can’t do this to me!”

Pinkie stopped and looked at him again. “I thought you understood. You have no bits of your own, and I don’t get paid for another week. This is the best I can offer.”

“I refuse! Take me to the Inn; I know you Pies are rich, you can afford it!”

She stared at him for a moment longer, and then said,” I can, but I’m not going to.” Then she took a step closer to him and again looked him in the eyes. “Understand something: a favor is being done for you. We don’t have to help you; you can get back on the train to Canterlot and take your chances with your father, or you can stay here and accept our help, with all the conditions. Your choice.”

Spencer stared back at her and saw she was serious, and then started to really think about his predicament. He soon realized he had no choice, so he gruffly said, “Fine! Just don’t expect me to thank you.”

She sighed. “I don’t.”

The Pressure Builds

Pinkie’s Secret

Carrot Top’s birthday had finally arrived, and Sugarcube Corner had been transformed into a birthday extravaganza. Within and without the gingerbread house-looking shop multicolored lanterns hung from streamers, while festive balloons were tied to every banner. A DJ had been set up on a small portable stage off to one side. The music was a bass-heavy soundtrack as ponies danced and mingled, while the cider bar kept their mugs filled to overflowing. It looked like half of Ponyville was there as the partygoers settled down to sing ‘happy birthday!’ in multiple voices and various keys.

Finally the birthday girl blew out her candles. Then came the best part: unwrapping the gifts. A tear rolled down Carrot Top’s cheek as she began opening her presents, for she had not expected so many ponies to attend her party, let alone receive so many tokens of friendship.

“Thank you! Thank you, everypony!” she cried as she opened her last gift. “This all means so much to me!”

After receiving hugs and kisses and many choruses of “you’re welcome!” the party began anew. Pinkie, as the organizer, went around making sure everypony was having a good time, the refreshments were plenty, and all was as it should be. Finally after another hour or so the party wound down, and exhausted but happy ponies started on their way home.

“Great party, Pinkie!” said Carrot Top as she headed towards the door. “This was my best birthday party ever!”

“You’re so welcome, Carrot Top!” she said, giving her a last hug. “Let’s do this again in three hundred sixty five days!”

The other ponies gathered up the last of the cake and sweets as they too made their exits. Once the final guest left, Pinkie wearily closed the door to Sugarcube Corner. This would be the last party she’d have to throw for two weeks, four days and eighteen hours, when Derpy would get her birthday celebration. She was glad she’d hired extra help to clean up, for she just didn’t feel like doing it all herself tonight. While Pinkie truly enjoyed making her friends happy, it was all starting to wear on her.

The pressure of being the upbeat party pony all. The. Time! was starting to build inside her. This time…this time it was going to take something a little more drastic to find a release. Fortunately she had everything she needed hidden away. She could feel it would soon be time to take that trip out to the Everfree Forest.

Pinkie has an eidetic memory, which means she remembers everything with which she comes in contact. It’s a great way of keeping tabs on all her friends, but sometimes it can be a burden. To never be able to forget, while still remaining an eternal optimist, has its price.

The next day was uneventful, as Pinkie worked her job with the Cakes, dropped in on some friends to say hello, helped a foal who had fallen and scraped his knees, had tea with Fluttershy, all the while feeling the weight building inside her.

It was nearly sunset when she waved good bye to Fluttershy, but instead of going home she looked around to make sure she was alone, then turned back and ran into the forest. Finding the spot where she’d hidden her things, she uncovered the black clothing that would conceal her from head to hooves. Repacking the clothes in the saddlebag, she then checked to make sure she had enough bits for the train trip to Canterlot. There was one last train leaving that evening, and if she timed it right she could get there while the station was relatively deserted. Cinching the bag tightly around her waist, she ran back to town for the train.

Plans Within Plans

The next morning Spencer was slightly less disagreeable than the night before. The sight of Porter standing in front of the Inn, looking very sorry, did lift his spirits some.

“Am I going to get any more backtalk from you? Because I’m not in the mood,” he growled.

Porter hung his head and replied, “No boss. You were right; that “princess” needs to be taught some manners.”

“Good!” said Spencer. “I’m feeling generous now, so let’s get something to eat while I’m coming up with our next move.” He turned and walked in the direction of a nice restaurant they’d seen the day before. As such, he didn’t notice the look that passed between Porter and Spindle.

Now it was time for Spindle to play his part. “Say, boss, I might have a suggestion?”

“What?” replied Spencer. He didn’t bother looking around at them.

“I know a way you can get back at that princess but,” and here he looked around, “perhaps it’s best if we discuss it somewhere private.” The streets were starting to fill up with ponies doing their early morning tasks.

Spencer snorted. “The day you come up with a good idea will be the day Tartarus freezes over.” He chuckled at his own joke. “But I guess it wouldn’t hurt hear you out. At the very least I can get a good laugh out of it.”

They arrived at the café, and Spencer said, “Let’s get a table inside. That should be quiet enough.” A devious smile broke across his face. “In fact, I have an idea.” He walked up to the headwaiter and said, “See those tables in the back? I want to reserve them all.”

“Certainly, sir,” said the headwaiter. “When would you need them?”

Spencer stared at him. “Right now.”

“N-Now? But sir, my customers are coming in. You need to give us some ahead time.”

Spencer stared at him again. “Do you know who I am? Where’s the owner of this place?”

“I-I can get him for you. Please excuse me a moment.”

The headwaiter left while Spencer and his companions waited. Soon, he returned with an angry-looking pony in a suit. “Who wants to see me?” he said.

“That would be me. I’m Spencer Fortune, of the Fortune family. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

The look of anger was quickly replaced by one of avarice, and he said, “Of course I’ve heard of you! What would you like?!”

“All those tables in the back. My friends and I have business to discuss…private business.” He then brought out a checkbook, wrote out a number, and gave it to the owner. The owner’s eyes got as round as saucers when he saw the amount.

“Right away, SIR! Gaston, come with me!”

He and the headwaiter quickly made their way over to the few ponies that had been seated before Spencer’s arrival. The owner whispered to them, while Gaston looked apologetic. The three ponies with whom they spoke became angry, but got up to leave after the owner handed them each some bits.

Then he and Gaston came back and said, “Mister Fortune, your tables will be ready in just a moment.”

He clicked his tongue, and four buscolts appeared. After his hurried instructions they quickly cleaned and reset the tables. They then closed the section off with velvet ropes. The owner himself led Spencer and company over into the section and seated them.

“If there’s anything else you gentleponies need, please don’t hesitate to ask!”

Spencer waved him off while he perused the menu. Porter and Spencer were used to this all this prior behavior, so they each appeared undisturbed as they silently picked out their own choices. Calling the headwaiter over, they gave their orders.

“We want to be disturbed as little as possible. Is that understood?” Spencer added.

Gaston gulped and said, “Of course sir! We’ll have your meals out right away!”

After he left Spencer turned to Spindle and said, “This had better be good.”

Showing unbelievable restraint, Spencer merely looked at Spindle when he was done speaking, and asked a single question.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Please think about it, boss: she will never expect it from you, and will put her completely off her guard,” Spindle insisted. “Besides, we need a few more days here in Ponyville for this plan to work, and if I’m not mistaken that’s her on her way in here to see us onto the train.”

“WHAT?!” Spencer cried, looking around. Sure enough, there was that upstart “Princess” talking to some ponies outside, probably the same ponies that had been asked to leave the restaurant earlier.

“Make up your mind quickly, boss…here she comes.”

Spencer stood and faced Twilight as she approached. Talking out the side of his mouth, he said, “If this doesn’t work, I’ll make sure you-“

“Good MORNING, Your Highness! I was just about to see you right after we’d had some breakfast!” he added breathlessly.

Twilight scowled at them all. “I thought I told you to be GONE on the first train.”

Spencer cast a dark look at Spindle, but then turned back to Twilight with the best smile he could manage and said, “Yes, about that. It was my intention to find you and…and to...APOLOGIZE…for our behavior last night.”

Twilight looked skeptical. “It seems you have more to apologize for. I understand you caused some ponies to be “asked” to leave this place so you could have this section to yourselves. Is that right?”

Now Spencer suppressed a smirk. He knew from negotiating with his father if a pony was still talking to you, they could be talked into anything, so he fully got into the spirit of what he was doing.

“Yes, I did. I’m used to a certain standard whenever I go out, and I’m afraid I wrongly expected that standard to apply here in Ponyville. Let us stay, and I promise I’ll both correct my behavior and make up for what I’ve done.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Spencer drew himself up. “Because I am a Fortune, and Fortunes always keep their word. Let me show you.” He signaled to the headwaiter, who came over reluctantly. Spencer gave him what appeared to be a genuine smile and said, “Please inform your patrons that their meals are all on me!” He turned back to Twilight and said, “That’s only the beginning.”

Twilight grimaced and said, “You can’t buy friendship and good will, Spencer.”

Spencer looked shocked. “That’s not my intention at all! I am merely making up for my behavior in the only way I know how.” He smiled.

Twilight was unconvinced, but said, “I don’t trust you, but you all can stay for now.” She turned to leave, but then added, “If I hear of ONE MORE incident I’ll put you on the train myself. In the luggage car.”

Spencer ground his teeth, and was about to blow the deal, when Spindle spoke up.

“That’s only fair, Your Highness. We’ll not mess up again.”

Twilight looked once more at Spencer, who had managed to contort his face back into something resembling a smile. She snorted, then left. As soon as she was out of earshot Spencer rounded on Spindle.

“I’ve never had to suck up to another pony in my life. Somepony is going to pay for that!”

“Please boss. It worked; we don’t have to leave. Yet.”

Spencer stopped and thought about it. “Yes. It DID work.” He sat back down. “So what’s the next step?” Spindle explained it to him, while Porter kept his eyes down and continued eating. When Spindle had finished speaking, Spencer looked at him with new eyes.

“I never knew you were so...devious. This might actually work.” He addressed Porter. “I suppose you know what you’re supposed to do?”

“Yes, boss: exactly and only what you tell me.”

Spencer smiled. “There may be hope for you after all.”