“What a waste,” I mutter to myself as I adjust my hat. I’d come all the way into Ponyville to pick up parts for Big Mac, and come to find out, the delivery's late! The parts ain’t even come in yet. There’s an hour out of my busy day I ain’t ever getting back. Durned ponies at the post weren’t even apologetic, either!
So here I was, dragging an empty cart back through Ponyville. And that’s when I saw it: the strangest thing that wasn’t all that strange at all. A pony’s top half was sticking out of a barrel, the barrel’s lid balanced on her head. She was dressed head to hoof in black—looked like some kind of spy outfit. To top it all, she was staring across the way through a pair of binoculars.
All of this would have been quite the strange sight, but it wasn’t. Or was it? Well, this mare just so happened to be Pinkie Pie, so it wasn’t as weird as it normally would be. Heck, for Pinkie Pie this was downright normal. So even though the whole thing was weird, it wasn’t as weird since it was Pinkie doing it.
I stopped in place, and peered out across the way. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what she was looking at. That made me wonder if she was actually looking at anything. I shook my head. There’s no telling what’s going on in that filly’s head.
“What’cha up to, Pinkie Pie?” I asked.
Pinkie nearly shot out of the barrel, dropping the binoculars. She turned ‘round, glaring at me. “You didn’t see anything,” she said, dead serious. Never taking her eyes off of me, she lowered herself into the barrel until the lid sealed it shut.
I scratched my head. What the hay’s gotten into Pinkie this time? I had half a mind to open up that barrel and confront her about it, but I hesitated as I reached for the lid. A thought crossed my mind. A poisonous thought. There was a pretty good chance that if I opened that barrel, it would be empty.
I unhitched myself from the cart and rounded the barrel. Now, I’ve seen many a barrel. Some of ‘em were shoddy as a two-bit jalopy, but not this one. This barrel was nice and solid. The sturdy wood of it left not a gap in its tight bindings. There wasn’t even a bunghole to be found. This cobblestone street was solid, too. So even if there weren’t a bottom to the barrel, there’d be no way out for Pinkie Pie.
Still, something in my gut told me that if I peeked into that barrel, Pinkie wouldn’t be in there. There ain’t a lick of sense in it. Just ain’t no way she could get out of this here barrel, but still, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that somehow she wasn’t in there.
I sat down, staring at the barrel. No. Maybe it weren’t that. Pinkie was in there. She couldn’t have slipped out. But, if I opened the barrel, she wouldn’t be there. It’s as if the very act of me opening the barrel would force Pinkie to not be in there, and until I did that, she would just stay in there.
So what if I kicked it? One good buck and even Pinkie’d yelp. Now that made sense. I got up and prepared to buck it, but then another thought stopped me. What if bucking it was like opening it? Pinkie was in there. She had to be. But if I bucked it, then she wouldn’t be.
I rubbed my chin. It was so frustrating! How would she even be able to just vanish like that? Sure, a Unicorn might be able to teleport if they were really good, but Pinkie was an Earth Pony. So how could she just vanish the instant I lift that lid? Even Hoofdini couldn’t get out of there.
Then, it hit me. The simplest solution there could be. I cleared my throat. “Hey, Pinkie. Why don’t you come outta there and talk to me?”
Silence.
I sighed. I didn’t know why I thought that’d work. But that just brought up more questions. If Pinkie was really in there, why the hay wouldn’t she talk to me? She’s got to be in there. That’s what my head’s been telling me. But my gut just don’t agree.
I should just open it. That’d settle it, right? But if I go and open it, then if she really was in there, I’d never know. Unless I opened it and found her, but what were the odds of that? Pretty low, I’d reckon.
Maybe there was some kind of bait that would lure her out? Cake? A balloon, maybe? Naw, that don’t make sense. She’d never see it from in there. Then again, how would she know if she couldn’t see? Maybe if I just bluffed...
“What are you doing?”
I blinked, recognizing the voice as Twilight’s, but I didn’t dare look away from the barrel. If I looked away for even a second, then Pinkie’d have a chance to slip out of there. “I’m watchin’ this here barrel,” I told her, plain and simple.
“And… why are you doing that?” Twilight asked, walking over next to the barrel so I could see her.
“I’m tryin’ to figure out if Pinkie’s in there or not,” I replied, never taking my eyes off of the barrel.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s silly.” Her horn glowed, and so did the barrel’s lid.
I held up a hoof. “Wait!”
It was too late. The lid fell to the side as Twilight peered into the barrel. She raised an eyebrow. “What the—?” Her aura lifted out a white, well-groomed cat. “What in the wide world of Equestria was Opal doing in this barrel?” Twilight levitated Opal over onto her back. “I’m sure Rarity’s worried sick about you. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
I facehooved as I watched Twilight walk away. If Pinkie ever was in the barrel, I’d sure as hay never find out now. I turned, and immediately my field of view was filled by two, blue eyeballs. “Gah!”
I jumped back to see Pinkie Pie—without her fancy outfit—leaning out of the barrel towards me. “Aw, come on!” I shouted, pointing at her. I groaned, pinching my nose. “Pinkie, were you in there the whole time?”
Pinkie jumped out of the barrel and continued to bounce along her way. “It’s a secret!” she replied in a chipper, sing-song manner.
I gave a frustrated grunt before heading over to the cart. I hitched myself in and started again for home.
I have no idea what I was thinking. Like I could ever figure out Pinkie Pie. Even Twilight couldn’t do that. “What a waste,” I muttered to myself.