Derpy Explodes at the End of This Story
Derpy woke up with a start.
She’d been having the most curious dream. In it, she’d been a mailmare—which wasn’t too different from reality, she supposed—and she’d been on a route all across Ponyville and Cloudsdale, delivering letters and packages and going back to the post office only to receive complaints because she’d given the wrong ponies the wrong mail. You know you’re married to the job when you start dreaming about it.
“What a weird dream that was,” she said aloud to nopony, a vice she’d had since she was small.
She got out of bed, made the covers, put the pillow back where it belonged, and made her way to her bathroom where she brushed her teeth until they shimmered and combed her hair until it was appropriately messy. She smiled at her reflection adorably, admiring the silly way her lips scrunched up her gray muzzle, and admiring how her eyes pointed in opposite directions.
“We got lots of work to do today,” she said, this time to her reflection. “You ready?”
Her reflection nodded enthusiastically.
“Good,” Derpy said as she trotted out of her bathroom to get some breakfast. But as she left the bathroom, she stepped on something that was too soft and squishy to be floor.
She glanced down curiously, lifting her hoof. Underneath it, like buried treasure under a rock, was the most beautiful muffin she’d ever seen. Baked until the dough had turned gold, with chocolate chips as dark as coffee.
Then the muffin looked up at her. “Eat me,” it said innocently.
“Okay,” Derpy said with a shrug. She bent her head down and gobbled the whole thing in a single adorable chomp. As she chewed it up, she saw yet another muffin and ate that one too. And then another, and another, and another.
The muffins formed a trail that led to her living room, where Derpy saw
THE LARGEST AND MOST GORGEOUS MUFFIN SHE HAD EVER SEEN IN HER LIFE.
It sat resplendently in the middle of the living room, glittering as if it were a precious jewel basking in sunlight, producing a delightful smell that welcomed Derpy into the living room. Its body was golden and fluffy, and so gigantic that it dwarfed all the furniture in Derpy’s house. Each chocolate chip was easily the size of Derpy’s head, and their delicious, deep brown color whispered beautiful fairy tales to her taste buds.
Derpy’s mind came back when she heard some dripping sound, like a faucet not fully turned off. She looked down and realized she’d been drooling all over both her leg and the floor. She wiped her face, then walked piously to the giant muffin.
A smile spread across her face, then split open to reveal the teeth that would rend this muffin. Which they did. The moment the muffin touched Derpy’s tongue, the world melted away, leaving nothing but its amazing, lively flavor painting her mouth with every color of yum. Each hearty chomp took the muffin, piece by piece, grinding it to cakey pulp, and finished with a loud swallow.
And every bite was quickly followed by another—and another—and another! Derpy had chewed a tunnel from the front of the muffin straight through to the top, popping out of the muffin like an adorably-perplexed mole. She licked the chocolate from her hooves. “Best! Muffin! EVER!!!” she cried, throwing her head back at each word.
Then she decided to get back to devouring this beautiful, beautiful muffin. With some effort, Derpy managed to pull herself out of the hole she’d burrowed, squeezing her weight, fidgeting right to left, left to right, until she finally escaped with a pop, shooting into the air with a pump from her wings.
The muffin she’d eaten had widened her hips considerably, and had been especially generous with her middle. Straightening herself up midair to prepare for a return dive made Derpy look like a fat, gray raindrop with wings and blonde hair.
And down she went, returning to the muffin with a loud splat, boring another hole into the giant muffin. Were anypony to come into the room at that moment, they’d hear a sound like a buzzsaw, coupled with a growing depression on one side of the muffin. Within a few minutes, Derpy’s head popped out one side of the sagging muffin, cheeks full from its delicious contents, chewing savagely until finally she swallowed.
Licking her lips, Derpy decided to finish her gargantuan treat. But first, she’d have to pull herself out. One little leg shot out of the hole, along with her shoulder; then the other leg followed suit. Derpy planted each hoof on either side of her new exit and with all her strength, pushed and pushed and pushed—until at last, the muffin yielded her now-gigantic body.
Her chubby, cherubic face crowned a neck that segued into an elephantine body, her wings too small to even fancy lifting Derpy anymore. Perhaps the most difficult part of her escape from the delicious muffin ever was getting her butt out: it was easily larger than she herself had been only moments ago. As she made egress from the muffin, it crumpled further, finally collapsing like a balloon suddenly deflating.
With a movement faster than anypony could expect of someone Derpy’s current size, she pounced on what remained of the muffin, chomping, gobbling, devouring, and inhaling every last crumb that remained. She sat down, her bottom shaking the entire living room on impact.
“That was deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-licious,” she said, sighing with a dumb grin. Derpy stretched and then rested her forelegs on her belly, lazily rubbing one hoof around its surprising tautness. She nickered in contentment, her tail twitching cutely.
Suddenly, Derpy was visited by a strange thought. It wasn’t unusual—her mind, after all, was a miasmic playground tenanted with nothing else—but it was an uncomfortable one.
Wait, how am I gonna get to work now? And then the thought packed its things and left Derpy’s house with a jolly wave, closing the door behind it just to be polite. Wouldn’t be the first thought that escaped her.
She looked aside at her front door where her thought made its exit. It was now far too small to accommodate a pony her size. Then again, her house was made of cloud. Maybe she could find a way to widen the door to where she could
Never mind, Derpy was already beginning to sink through the floor. No matter if a pegasus like her could walk on clouds, even they had their weight limit.
She began to panic as her body slunk helplessly, slowly, through the clouds struggling to suspend her. Attempting to roll over onto her front in order to run—though to where, she never gave any mind—proved fruitless, as her bottom had already sunk so far down her hind legs were already getting tickled by sky.
Derpy flopped forward finally, but she was only in her house from the waist up, and sinking faster. Her now-tiny wings fluttered helplessly as she tried, to no avail, to crawl out of the hole she was sinking into. More and more she sank: up the curve of her belly, up to her chest, then to her shoulders, until finally, if anypony walked into the room that moment they’d have seen what would have looked like Derpy’s decapitated head. And then even that disappeared.
Instinct began to overtake panic as Derpy dropped from the heavens to earth, her wings now running on all cylinders, giving it everything they got to keep her aloft. As hard as her wings flapped, and as much as Derpy concentrated, flight was an unreachable thing. Instead, she merely slowed her descent, going from “falling grey meteor” to “slowly descending in an invisible elevator.”
With great effort, Derpy’s fall had transgressed into a gentle landing, her body settling between two trees with a soft sound. She tucked her wings, tired and sore, to her sides, and blew a sigh of relief. She looked around, taking in the peaceful surroundings and the fresh air.
“Well,” she said, “looks like I’m gonna need a new house. Preferably one that doesn’t spit me out.”
Just as she started her waddle-trek to nearby Ponyville, Derpy saw a figure walking down the nearby road. When he came closer, close enough that Derpy could make him out, her jaw dropped.
Those masculine chops. Those broad shoulders. That barrel chest. That hot stride. That beautiful hair, the color of chocolate chips. Those eyes, sparkling like silver coins. It was none other than Trick Trot, an actor she’d crushed on since she was a teen filly. And he was coming right this way.
The closer he got, the more red Derpy’s face became. When he looked at her, he flashed her that very same brilliant grin that made teenyboppers squeal. It even had that shiny ding thing she liked so much. Then he walked up to her. “Hello,” he said.
“H-h-huh-her-huh-h-h-heh-huh-he-he-hi,” Derpy stammered.
Trick’s silver eyes scanned her, top to bottom. It took him a while. Derpy blushed more deeply as his smile broadened. “I have to say,” he said, “you must be the most beautiful pegasus I’ve ever se—”
“TRICK TROOOOOT!” Derpy squealed at last, flailing her forelegs. “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! I’ve seen all of your movies fourteen times each at least I especially love One Cat Too Many even though all the critics hated it and you didn’t deserve to be hated so much because you were the only actor in that whole movie who knew what he was doing and Trick Trot ohmygoshIloveyouuuuuuu!!!”
There was a surprised pause on Trick’s end, before he finally lit up with his brilliant smile. “I’m happy you said that,” he said. His horn glowed and from his shirt pocket came a small black box. It opened up, revealing a gold ring that twinkled in the morning sunlight. “In fact,” he continued. “I’d be flattered if you became my wife.”
Derpy’s heart melted. Then it did backflips into the ocean as bugles blew and angels parted the skies. She couldn’t even articulate the word, “yes”, instead slobbering a long string of overjoyed blubbering. She reached out a hoof as Trick took the ring and tried to fit it on. When it became apparent that the ring was, in fact, a ring and not a bracelet, Trick instead shoved the ring up Derpy’s nostril.
“This is the happiest day of my life,” Derpy whispered as the ring touched her brain.
She felt something small poke at her still-colossal behind. She turned her head to see a small, yellow, wrinkly earth pony whose eyes were obscured by the very thick glasses he wore. “Are you Miss Ditzy Dooooooo?” he asked slowly, his voice like air escaping a balloon.
“Yeah,” she said. Then suddenly, she shook her head as her new fiancé wrapped his forelegs around her, sinking into her soft belly. “Well, actually no,” she corrected. “I’m Missus Ditzy Trot now. But you can call me Derpy. Everypony does.”
The coke-bottled pony slowly arched an eyebrow. “…Okay,” he says at last. “I’m here to inform you that you have inherited your long-lost uncle’s massive fortuuuuune.”
Derpy gasped in excitement.
“And won the lotteryyyyyyy.”
Derpy gasped harder.
“And found a long-lost artifact that, while obviously evil in origin, is worth trilliooooons.”
If Derpy gasped any harder, she would have turned herself inside out. “I have an uncle?!” she cried.
Before the pony could explain any further, he turned into money. And money. And more money. The whole area around them turned into piles of gold coins and jewels and other riches glinting in the sunlight. Derpy danced in excitement. “Awesome!” she said. “Now I can buy all the muffins I want!”
Almost right at her words, the gold and the jewels, one by one, began turning into muffins. Some with chocolate chips, some with blueberries, and some with cranberries—but all with delicious, cakey goodness.
Derpy shoved Trick Trot aside, her fiancé now the furthest thing from her mind, as she prepared for a dive, dunking low on all fours, wiggling (and jiggling) her hindquarters in preparation for a pounce. She leapt into the air higher than should be possible, then fell deep into the ocean of sweet, sweet muffins.
She swam through it, opening her mouth wide to catch some of the muffins, chewing them, swallowing them. She dove down, disappearing under the muffiny surface, then burst out, chirping like a dolphin before going back under.
It might have taken hours, or days, or weeks, or maybe even whole minutes. But the end result was the same: the ocean of muffins soon became a lake, which soon became a pond, which soon became a puddle. Finally, there was only one muffin—and a whale of a pony ready to eat it.
“You ready to join your little friends?” Derpy asked somewhat menacingly.
Before the muffin could reply, it was eaten. Its next of kin was informed of this days after, and wept bitterly, swearing revenge on all ponies and donning a bat costume, terrifying the populace of muffin-eating ponies. Bat-Muffin was born.
But he’s not important to this story.
Derpy chewed the last muffin somewhat thoughtfully, its flavor rich and sticky. She wondered briefly what it would be like to be a muffin—yet another strange thought in a head full of them—but that thought went away swiftly, and she swallowed.
The moment the muffin hit her stomach, a queer feeling clutched Derpy and shook her. Her whole body quivered with a feeling that wasn’t quite delight or contentment; instead feeling a little more like a fuse slowly burning short.
“Uh-oh,” Derpy muttered as her already-enormous body began to expand even further. That uncomfortable feeling grew along with the rest of her, now going from a slight burning sensation to an intense burning sensation.
“Muffins!” she cried in alarm. “Why hast thou forsaken me?!”
That burning sensation finally overtook her senses as her body reached critical mass and shivered, just before she
woke up.
Derpy’s eyes snapped open. The ceiling to her bedroom was both up above her and to her left. Normal. She was in her bed—also normal. She pulled herself out of her bed, looking herself over hurriedly, relieved to see that she was in one piece, and thin.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “What a weird dream,” she said to nopony in particular. Maybe she was talking to her house, I dunno.
As she made her bed, Derpy noticed something odd. Her pillow was missing.
She looked around the bed. Not there.
She looked under the bed. Not there either.
She looked all around her bedroom. It wasn’t anywhere.
She checked each room of her house. Under the tables, inside the lamps, inside the shelves, and under the car she was always driving around on Tuesdays because poppin’ wheelies be bitchin’. It wasn’t in the house at all.
Derpy scratched her blonde mane, scrunching her face in thought. “But if it isn’t here,” she asked herself, “then where…?”
She hiccupped before she could finish her sentence, suddenly spitting a small pillow feather that fluttered before her very eyes. “Oh,” she said in astonishment.
Then she exploded.
