The Ponyacci Super Sunday Panel

THE PONYACCI SUPER SUNDAY PANEL

By The Great Mewtwo

The sun sat high in the breezy sky today.  The fillies and colts were just walking the streets of the festivities, the Cakes and I were just gleaming over the reviews of the pastries and treats we put together for this year’s fair.  The only other thing that was putting me on the edge for the last few hours was the fact that I was going to have a panel with my favorite clown in Equestria, Ponyacci, as he and I were going to explain his new made-for-film special.  Mayor Mare was having her own audience with Twilight off to the side, possibly about how to funnel more tax bits to science.  Applejack and Rarity are just as much off in the distance having a mock-up fashion show to entertain the fillies.  I never really saw Rarity trying to make fun out of a craft she’s so passionate about.  Fluttershy and Angel Bunny were showing some of the others how to make flower necklaces and pomanders that smell just as nice as she is.  Me, I just hope that I was able to save the film for the younger ones, especially after the babies almost destroyed it.  Meanwhile, I’m inside a small red and purple tent helping Ponyacci get in costume and introducing him to the rest of the youth of Ponyville at large.  Far as the other ponies were concerned, there was nothing to see.

“Easy now, Pinkie.  That makeup really burns your eyes,” he warns.

I nod as I take care to avoid his eyes and nostrils applying the base foundation and to curb my enthusiasm.  I present to him a mirror to see if all the details are accounted for.

“My goodness, Pinkie.  You’re a natural at this,” he remarks.

“Some of that is actually because of my friend, Rarity.  She’s the one I had to patch up your suit and taught me about how to apply makeup like that.”

“I must thank her, too, then.  She made me feel rather radiant, as she would probably say.  Now, I’m all irradiated.”

“You ready now?”

“I’m as ready as I think I’ll ever be.  It’s showtime.”

I walk out of the tent towards my assigned table.  For sixty bits, I thought we would not be getting a run-down cork table like all the other cheap vendors here.    Several fillies and colts were gathered by it, anticipating someone that I hope they would come to know and love as much as I did growing up.

“Hello, everypony!” I cry, catching the eyes of all those involved, including their attached parents.  “Welcome, Stallions, mares, fillies, and colts of all ages.  Today for our fair, I, Pinkie Pie, have a very special guest to talk to us.  He’s been clowning for well over 30 years, he’s performed all throughout Equestria, including before the court of Princesses Celestia and Luna, and that of Princess Cadance in the Crystal Empire; he’s fulfilled the dying wishes of over four-hundred terminally ill ponies, he’s even had his share of run-ins with toys and games.  Just recently, he opened a school for professional clowning right near Ponyville, but now, he’s put on the nose one more time for a very big film special, The Big Ponyacci Film.  Mares and Stallions, put your hooves together for the one the only PONYACCI!”

I set a shiny disc atop a spinning turntable and rest an aging needle to let it play.  The confetti, colored mostly white, ejects as my masked jester makes his appearance before the crowd.  Though slower than in his prime, he still knows somersaults and juggling tricks as if he was doing his first circus all over again.  Many don’t know him, while others have lived with him in his heart, like myself.  I’m just so glad that I get to help him with something to leave the young ones entertained for years to come.

“Hello, fillies and gentlecolts, it’s time for Ponyacci!” he cries out as the music ends.  “I am Ponyacci the Proud and Prancing Clown, and Today, I have with me one of my biggest fans, Pinkie Pie, as my lovely assistant.  Let's hear it for her."

Ponies, both young and old, applaud my name as they remember the parties I threw.  I light up and expose the stars in my eyes to the other patrons.  Perhaps I get a lot of my love for laughter from him, watching him as a young filly balancing on large balls and clearing disastrously high walks on a tight rope.  Jumping off and on see-saws into the air, the flips, and his acrobatics.  His jokes still bring tears of joy as I popped balloons trying to blow them up.  Sometimes, I would imagine that he was my very special somepony, but I know that he’s got a very big calling with very little time for love.  But then, out of the clamor for his charm comes a heckling.