Pinkamena Diane "Pinkie" Pie
It was just another beautiful day in Equestria. A magnificent sun brought forth light and warmth. The gentle breeze in the air made way for a calm, peaceful atmosphere. Clouds moved gracefully through the sky, placed perfectly by the pegasai.
Yes, Equestria was a perfect place. Everything was so happy. Ponies were out and about, completing errands and just having fun. However, one particular pink pony stood out on this day. It was Pinkamena Diane Pie, the inventor of parties and the very definition of "fun".
For Pinkie (a nickname used by just about everypony), this was the perfect day to throw a party. After all, a pony with balloons on her flank couldn't possibly NOT like partying.
So off she went, to the town square. She needed to gather supplies. This was going to be a blast. She would invite everypony in Ponyville, and they would have the time of their life. It was her specialty, of course.
Pinkie Pie hopped around the town square. Several booths of clerks formed a large area in the center, and that was exactly where the pink earth pony was headed. She first found her way over to a young stallion selling basic baking ingredients, such as flour, eggs, and sugar. Despite her job at Sugarcube Corner, a bakery with all kinds of sweets, Pinkie could never have enough sugar.
"Hiya," she said, "how much is sugar these days?"
"Well Pinkie," the stallion chuckled, "it's 5 bits per bag."
Pinkie Pie reached into the leather pouch swung over her neck and pulled out a pile of gold coins. She was using all of her money on this party. "8 bags, please!"
The stallion laughed again, searching his shelves for more sugar. "Big party, eh?"
"Don't ya know it! You're invited, too!"
"Oh? Thank you kindly, ma'am!"
"No problem! This party's going to be the BEST!"
The merchant smiled at her. "They always are, Pinkie Pie! I'll see you later!"
"Okie dokie lokie!" Pinkie Pie left the booth and went to the next one she needed: her favorite shop, and where she spent a lot of her free time, this merchant sold party supplies galore. Hats, streamers, confetti, and more.
She spent nearly an hour talking to the mare running this stand, forcing her to create a very lengthy list of items being purchased. Eventually, Pinkie ended up spending 389 bits. A pricy place indeed, but to this pink pony, every bit was well spent.
Pinkie continued going about town square, getting sidetracked by random stalls. It took her most of the day just to get the materials. She spent a a of 794 bits. With this money, she could buy a month's worth of rocks from her family's farm.
Invitations were sent through the mail the next day. She had invited every single pony in the town, which was more than she had ever invited before. Mayor Mare was even coming, exciting Pinkie more than ever before. Everything had to be just right.
•••••
"Hi!"
"Welcome to the party!"
"Howdy!"
"How's it going?"
"Having a good time?"
Pinkie's party was a major success so far. Everypony was incredibly impressed, as they always were. This was Pinkie Pie, after all. She invented parties, so high quality partying wasn't something she lacked in her skill set.
She had just been getting a cup of punch when somepony shrieked. This wasn't a happy squeal that Pinkie was used to hearing. This wasn't even a painful scream that sometimes happened when ponies danced too hard. No, this was a horrified, bloodcurdling shriek.
Everypony in town was now focused on one little filly in the room. One filly and her mother. The filly was crying.
The mother showed no emotion. It wasn't possible for her to do so. Faces show emotion as long as ponies feel the emotions. You can't cover it up completely, and Pinkie had caught on to all of the signs. But the mother had no emotion. Why was the filly crying? The mother didn't seem to care at all.
At least, Pinkie thought at first. In fact, she was sort of right. The mother didn't care. This wasn't exactly so unbelievable, either. What kind of mother wouldn't care when their filly is in distress? This mother. And any mother like her. Ponies don't have emotions if they can't feel emotions. Ponies can't feel emotions if they're dead.
Yes, the mother was dead. She dropped dead. There was no visible injury, no sickness within the mother, she was just dead. Pinkie burst into tears watching the filly. What had happened? No, she knew what happened. She watched it happen. She just was too overwhelmed to do anything. This mare had a heart attack. And Pinkie didn't even try to help.
Everypony began screaming. Running. Crying. Calling for help.
Pinkie stood traumatized, staring at the filly. The little girl's father approached the mother, crying. He bent down over her body, and removed something from her hoof. It was a cupcake. A cupcake, with only one bite out of it.
"You," he stuttered at Pinkie, an obvious rage building behind his words, "you KILLED HER!"
"I swear," Pinkie bawled, "I didn't do anyth-"
"YOUR CUPCAKES! YOU POISONED THEM! YOU'RE GOING TO PAY! YOU KILLED MY WIFE!"
"Please," said Pinkie, "p-p-please just leave..."
The stallion grabbed the filly's mane and they rushed out, leaving Pinkie alone with her thoughts. Her hair deflated. How many guests had she lost? How many friends had she lost, just because of that incident? It wasn't even her fault.
Pinkie slumped through her empty building towards her party guest checklist. The list had the names of everypony who attended, which just happened to be everypony in Ponyville. Starting with the first guest, she began numbering off the ponies with an attached quill. The first guest was one, the second guest was twp, and so on. Just how many had she lost?
There were hundreds. The list just kept going. This wasn't her fault. This was their fault. Ponies knew how to behave healthily. They were blaming the mare's death on her. Pinkie Pie, the partying pony.
No, she thought to herself, enough of that Pinkie Pie crap. No, this is serious, and my name's Pinkamena.
Pinkamena's eye twitched. Mrs. Cake came downstairs and looked at her. Pinkie glared back and smiled, her eye twitching once more. "Mrs. Cake," she said, giggling, "I hope you liked the party!"
"Are... You alright? What's up with the new hairstyle, honey?"
"I don't know, I thought it looked good. I'm going to go plan another party in my room. Bye!"
Pinkamena hopped up to her room, giggling. She felt Mrs. Cake staring at her. She laughed again, for she knew Mrs. Cake hadn't seen what happened.
That dumb mare has no idea.
The pink pony had trouble confining her laughter as she closed the door to her bedroom. She looked at her guest list again. These ponies left her. They left her based on a lie.
They know what happened. They knew. They saw. I'm not crazy, they are. Those ponies. Those selfish ponies. They need to pay. They need to pay for what they've done.
Pinkamena opened a cabinet in her room and removed a pile of confetti. She grabbed the quill and began marking each piece with a number. When she matched the numbers of guests, she owned up her dresser and found a silly hat.
The earth pony randomly assorted the confetti in the hat, and shook it up a bit for good measure. "Mrs. Cake?"
"Yes, Pinkie?"
"Could you come up here?"
Mrs. Cake trotted up the stairs and opened the door to Pinkamena's room. "What is it, dear?"
"Could you please take a piece of confetti out of this hat and tell me what it says?"
"Sure thing. What's it for?"
"Oh, nothing."
Mrs. Cake reached a hoof into the hat and took out a pink piece of confetti. "72," she said. "That all?"
"Yes," said Pinkamena, giggling. "That's all."
Mrs. Cake left the room, and Pinkamena searched for the number on the list. She giggled, and her mane poofed up. Time to invite a guest over again.
•••••
It was 3:45 when the doorbell for Sugarcube Corner rang. Pinkamena, expecting this, opened the door and smiled. "Hello! Sorry about last night..."
"Its alright," Twist said as she walked inside. "So what is it you wanted help with?"
"I just needed some help baking some treats. Is that alright?"
"Sure. Speaking of treats, I'm hungry. Got anything now?"
"What a coincidence! I have some cupcakes in the back for you!"
"Oh, thanks!"
Pinkamena went into the kitchen and retrieved the cupcake from the counter. She then passed it over to Twist, who scarfed it down quickly. "So," Twist asked, "what are we making?"
"More cupcakes, silly!"
"Oh? More? Is it a different flavor or something?"
"You could say that."
Twist suddenly felt dizzy. Her vision blurred. As she collapsed to the ground, she could feel herself being dragged down a set of stairs. But more importantly, she heard the laugh of Pinkamena.
Pinkamena Diane Pie.