Pinkie Pie's Last Nightmare Night
Pinkie's Magnificent Countenance
Pinkie's Magnificent Countenance
Pinkie Pie's Last Nightmare Night
Admiral Biscuit
Of all the holidays of the year, Pinkie Pie loved Nightmare Night the most. First, of course, it had candy, and Pinkie loved candy. And it would be fair to admit that the confectionery variety of Nightmare Night was neither as broad nor as tasty as the Hearth's Warming Eve treats, but that wasn't the only selling point of the holiday.
The second major draw was the opportunity for pranking. While that was an activity which could be done year-round, some ponies got a little upset when they were randomly pranked, but everypony was fair game on Nightmare Night.
The final selling point was the disguises. Pinkie loved dressing up almost as much as Rarity did, although she didn't limit herself to fancy gowns. She had costumes for nearly every occasion, and she could wear any one of them she wanted.
Or . . . she could do something new.
It was her first Nightmare Night since Twilight’s ascension, and Pinkie Pie had the greatest costume and greatest prank ever all planned out.
She had barricaded herself into the Cake's bathroom an hour ago, and her transformation was nearly complete. Aloe and Lotus had dyed her mane and tail in beautiful, flowing blues and greens and pinks. Even the spa twins couldn't do anything about the wild curls, but that was okay. Everypony would know who she was supposed to be.
Her cardboard wings stood proudly above her back, and a cardboard horn adorned her forehead, supported by a glitter-covered tiara. The three balloons on her hip had been covered by a sheet of paper with a crayon-drawn sun, and all four of her hoofsies were shod in golden boots.
She'd tried to redecorate one of Big Mac's colt-sized yokes, but it just hadn't come out right—and still smelled distractingly of his sweat—so she'd made do with a cardboard copy, liberally coated with glitter. Rarity had been more than happy to lend Pinkie some of Sweetie Belle's practically limitless supply.
Pinkie smiled broadly. While she was hardly the spitting image of Princess Celestia, everypony would immediately recognize her costume.
She rolled her head on her neck and trotted in place to limber up. It was time to go have fun.
☽ ☾
Five minutes in, her costume was proving even more fun than she'd imagined. The Cakes had rolled their eyes, but had otherwise said nothing as she trotted into the street. Rarity had given her candy, complimented her mane, and accused her of being irreverent. The Flower Trio hadn't answered her loud knocks or demands for sugary treats; she faintly heard from the back of their house the clatter of fleeing hooves, and a loud thump which sounded like somepony fainting while at a dead run. Pinkie helped herself to a hoof-full of candy from their bowl, then headed on to the next house, suddenly stopping as she spotted a prismatic tail hanging off the edge of a cloud.
“Rainbow Dash,” she shouted in her most Princessly voice, “Why are there still clouds in the sky?”
“Uh. . . .” Rainbow looked over the edge of the cloud and squinted at her. Pinkie was standing in front of a well-lighted window, so only her silhouette was visible to the pegasus.
“I, Princess Celestia, demand clear skies for Nightmare Night!”
“We usually have clouds,” Rainbow protested. “To set the atmosphere.” She rubbed a hoof against her mane uncertainly. “I didn't—“
“Your Princess demands clear skies! And cake. Lots and lots of cake. I want a cake so big I can bathe in it.”
“Right away, Princess Celestia.” Rainbow jerked to her hooves and made a sharp salute, before glaring back down at the laughing earth pony. “Pinkie?”
“I totally had you going there, Dashie!”
“Hah. Yeah. I knew it was you, I was just playing along.” Rainbow flew down next to Pinkie. “That's a pretty awesome costume. It’d fool anypony.”
“Thanks! I made it myself.” She wiggled her back and made her cardboard wings sort of flutter. “What are you doing on the cloud? Waiting to prank somepony?”
“Applejack.” Rainbow made a face. “I got some caramel apples from her and took a big bite . . . she'd made caramel onions. She's got to come into town sooner or later, for the apple bob, and when she does . . . zap.”
“Isn’t that kind of, I dunno, cliched?”
“It’s an oldie but a goodie,” Rainbow said defensively.
“It was all you could think of, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Pinkie nodded wisely. “Have fun, Dashie! I'm off to find Twilight.”
“Want a caramel apple?”
“Nope!” Pinkie happily pronked across the road in the direction of the treehouse. Forgoing the front door, she rummaged around under the bushes until she found a grappling hook she kept there for emergencies, and expertly looped it over the balcony railing.
Shimmying up was extra difficult with her costume, but it would be so worth it. She reached the balcony and peered through the window. Twilight was wearing a Clover the Clever costume, and alternating between looking in a book and looking in a mirror, before making slight adjustments to her overrobe. Pinkie took a deep breath, and rolled a small lit firecracker behind her.
The flash was everything she'd hoped for. Twilight's head jerked up, and Pinkie was ready. “Twilight Sparkle! I demand cake! With a friendship letter inside. And I want it NOW. I teleported all the way here from my glittering palace in Canterlot just so you could make me a cake!”
“Right away, Princess!” Twilight disappeared in a magenta flash. Pinkie fell to the balcony floor, covering her mouth with her hooves to keep her giggles from escaping. She heard pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.
Does Twilight know any cake-making spells? Pinkie licked her lips. What if there's a spell that makes limitless cakes? Like a mirror pool for cake? What if I put a cake in the mirror pool?
She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when Spike came up to the window and looked out on the balcony, shook his head, and went back downstairs.
Two minutes later, Pinkie found herself surrounded by a glowing magenta field. She was dragged off the balcony, and roughly lowered to the ground, right in front of an annoyed lavender alicorn.
“Pinkie,” Twilight began. “You . . . you—I thought you were Princess Celestia and I nearly freaked out.”
“You did freak out,” Pinkie reminded her, giving her nose a gentle boop. “I got you so good. Is my cake ready?” She wiggled her hips. “I'll never grow up big and strong without cake.”
“Don't you think you're going a little too far?” Twilight asked. “I can't imagine that Princess Celestia would take kindly to being mocked.”
“It's not like she'd know,” Pinkie said. “And besides, Princess Celestia has a sense of humor.”
“NO SHE DOESN'T,” a voice boomed out. The two ponies turned to face the newcomer.
Princess Celestia stamped across the yard, sparks coming from her hooves every time she spoke. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, we are insulted by thine caricature of our regal magnificence, and we banish thee to the moon forthwith.” She lit her horn, and Pinkie vanished in a flash of white light. “And as for thee, faithful student, thou needest to lighten up. Perhaps thou shouldst get thee a coltfriend.”
Twilight looked up at the Princess, mouth agape.
“A swiving or platonic cuddling would do thee well. We have spoken!” The Princess vanished in a flash of light, leaving the dumbstruck Twilight standing alone on her lawn.
☽ ☾
“Thou wert right,” Princess Luna said, as Pinkie wiped the white paint out of her fur with a damp rag. “‘Twas one of the best pranks we have pulled in many a century.”
“Did you tell her to get a coltfriend?”
Luna nodded.
“And what did she say?”
“Verily, she nearly wet herself.” Luna snickered. “We await with eager anticipation her next letter to our sister.”
Author's Note
A One-Shot-Ober fic
