Disregard Safety, Acquire Humans

Chapters

The First Part
The Second Part
The Third Part
The Fourth Part
The Fifth Part
The Sixth Part

The First Part

You pick up the wrapping and nudge it across the small white box, smiling. You know that Lyra will just have to love these white chocolate covered cherries, especially with the finishing touches of sugary red sprinkles that you caked all over them, and you neatly tape things together. You slide your hand over the marble counter for the box of new bows, and you pick out an especially pretty looking pink one.

Finally, you take a sticker with 'Made with love at Sugarcube Corner!' written over it, and you place it against the upper right corner. You make a happy sigh. And, with that, the late afternoon shift is over. You flash back to what you had planned for that night, nothing special. Maybe I'll head on over to DJ Pon-3's house like I said I might. Gosh, as great as her stuff is, she just gets too damn intense about it. She's all up on my face-- 'Didn't you like that drop? Didja like it? Well? Huh-huh? Didja?' So intense! I get enough of that at work from a certain pink mare.

In truth, you've only had several days in Ponyville, and you'll need some time to really set into a normal routine. You turn around, glancing about at the kitchen. You've felt pretty relieved to work in the new, revamped Sugarcube Corner. Before the humans started to come, the old building didn't have much in the way of space inside, as beautiful as it looked from the outside. Now, the newly built kitchen complex features a variety of sparkling clean ovens, cupboards, refrigerators, and other items all stretched out against the walls before you your eyes. Expanded just like the rest of traditional market street Ponyville, yep.

It mildly irritates you that Twilight and the Mayor have gotten most of the credit, although Twilight has tried to refer to the humans' pivotal work with their alien technology, science, and math as much as possible. Not Twi's fault. Ponies just don't listen. You scoff. They're a lot like humans, aren't they? At any rate, you see nothing but some cooking utensils from spoons to beaters out. Clean enough. The evening crew has got it.

You walk over to the side door, carrying the gift box in one hand and taking off your big grey apron with the other. You slow down as you push it open, hearing a conversation at the Corner's side entrance. You glance down the hallway, and you spot a pleasant looking Pinkie talking with a haggard looking Lyra.

"And he's touching it, right?" Lyra asks, leaning to the side and holding a hoof against the half-door, half-window entrance. "Right?"

"Yippers!" Pinkie replies.

"And he's the one that made it, right?" Lyra asks, leaning to the other side and rubbing her hoof against the small wooden half-door in front of her. "He's over there now, in the kitchen, taking his human fingers--" Lyra stressed those last two words intenstely, her ears wiggling. "And letting them go all over those plump, ready cherries? His human thumb is dipped into the chocolate, pouring that sticky cream all over them?"

"Yes-a-rooni!" Pinkie seems oblivious to Lyra's mood, with the unicorn's sweat dotting up atop her forehead.

"He's wrapping the things for me, holding and placing the bow, with his human skin going all over? With his human fingers clutching the sides of the package?"

You feel very self-conscious, even though they don't seem to notice you from behind a stack of boxed cups and napkins on the other side of the hallway. You grip the package of treats even tighter. You take a little breath.

"And his human fingers," Lyra coos, waving her hooves around and propping her head against the windowsill as she sweats even more. "Have they written onto the magical sticker that the treat is for me? Just for me? 'Made with love'?" She closes her eyes, breathing harder. "Oh, I'll bet his human breath is spraying all over my box of treats right now, oh Celestia yes!"

You freeze. After a painful three seconds, you lean down and see your breath fogging up the sticker atop the box of treats. You smoothly lower your hands down until the thing is out of your mouth's reach.

"Oh, Lyra," Pinkie says, playfully smacking the unicorn's hoof with her own. "Why don't you just get a human boy--"

"I've gone through five!" Lyra calls out, suddenly standing up straight with a cold flatness coming over her face. "It's just insane. They are all so insane." She leans forwards a little, trembling. "They just can't stand what's normal love, being so emotionally distant. I mean, come on, Kyle told me that he didn't think that my hiding out in the tree outside his apartment all night and singing his name as the sun rose, moving in through the slightly ajar window--" A touch of anger popped up, her heart clearly beating hard. "He said it was 'creepy'! You believe that? 'Creepy'! And that's nothing compared to what she said after I was romantically packing his lunch for him, dressing up in his clothes, watching him shower, and following him from bush to bush as he walked to work! That's what couples do!"

"Lyra, I think that--"

*Crash!*

A box falls off from the stack in front of you onto your foot. You curse your clumsyness as you try to slide to the side. Thankfully, it was a box full of napkins, and it hardly felt like anything. Yet you suddenly feel a dark pit in your stomach as you look out. You now see both Lyra and Pinkie, staring at you.

"Oh!" Lyra gushes. Her eyes drink in your two hands, two arms, two legs, and two feet, with toes wiggling about in your puffy black sandals, and she makes a low, soft whine. You feel so exposed and so naked despite your big shirt and big shorts, with Lyra's eyes seeming to dig into your skin.

"Oh, right," you mutter.

"Oh, h-h-h-h-hi, Snoopy," Lyra spits out, looking as if she might as well have big red hearts popping up from her head. A transformation seems to come over her. She swirls her mane over seductively, her newly done eyelashes fluttering. She takes a gulp, and she puts on a smooth, measured voice. "You're looking absoutely radiant today." She begins to sweat profusely once again. "My, my, it's like your peachy-pinkish skin is like a small sun, showing off your warmth and tenderness."

"Yeah, sure, I'll go with that," you murmur, walking over. Pinkie just seems to be trying, and failing, to burst out laughing. You hold out the box of candied treats with as neutral and blank of an expression that you can manage. Just pretend that you work at the DMV. That look. That tone of voice.

Lyra reaches out and, of course, pets your hands with her fluffy teal hooves as she takes the box. She curls little circles in your skin with her fur for a moment, and you pull back. You try to keep the same face. You have to admit, as you watch her smiling even wider and poising her body against the doorframe, that she looks really pretty. Too bad she's just coo-coo with humans as her Cocoa Puffs. It certainly felt nice to feel her hooves against your fingers, but you just let out a breath.

"See you later, Lyra!" Pinkie yells.

Lyra turns around, and she heads back out the little side street into the main market street. She still has her eyes locked on you, and she swings her tail around with each step. She seems to try to give you as much of a view of her flanks as possible.

"Well, that's over with," you remark, turning to Pinkie.

"Okie-dokie-lokie!" Pinkie calls out. "Now--" She touches a hoof against your back and leads you down the hallway. "It's time for more 'special projects', Snoopy!"

"But I'm done with the shift!"

"Oh, you silly-illy not-a-filly," she retorts, grinning, "since when have we discovered any advancements in tasty-treat-technology on the job! Enough work! It's time for fun!"

You simply nod. Oh, great, more work as the Beaker to her Professor Honeydew. I wonder if she'll dye my hair green with sprinkles again. Or maybe coat the inside of my ears with raspberries again. Or maybe she'll pull out the 'big guns'.

"Hang on, Snoopy! Snoopy, hang on!" Pinkie thrusts open the door to the kitchen, and she pushes you inside. You suddenly flash back to how much you had hated that nickname at first, and how quickly you had accepted it just a few hours afterwards.

Dammit! Why did I have to appear in Equestria inside a freaking dog crate with freaking Beagle puppies crawling all over? Why couldn't I have teleported into a Jacuzzi or something with Rarity at my side! Although, using the exact word 'Snoopy' was all your fault. You put your apron back on as you watch Pinkie hopping around the kitchen, throwing open drawers and assembling a variety of tools on her back. It could be worse. I feel so freaking sorry for 'Scooter', 'Pancakes', and 'Peaches'. You shudder.

"What are you doing tonight, Pinkie?"

"Oh, the same thing we do every night, Pinkie," Pinkie says, putting on her own apron right after she spills her tools onto the counter. "Try to take over the world!"

"I..."

"Of cooking!"

You take a gulp.

To Be Continued...

The Second Part

She lets out a torrent of giggles. "Oh, and sorry that I called you 'Pinkie' just now. That would be so silly. A boy like you named 'Pinkie'. Although, your skin looks all pinkish, way more than even 'Peaches'! I don't get it!" She hops around and rubs up against you. "How did you get so pink on your planet? Do you like take big-bubbly-baths in raspberries? You do use cherry paste for soapy-cleany-time?" She slides her head to the side, suddenly having a realization. "Ooh! Ooooh! I know! Do you chew a lot of pink bubblegum and eat it, even though you're not supposed to? A-ha!"

"Hey, I--"

"Oh, did I ever tell you about how my little friend Snails ate his gum, which he brought to class even though Cheerliee always said that he was not supposed to?" Pinkie asks. "He did, by accident and all. He just went gulp!" Pinkie hops up against the counter, rattling the utensils around, and she melodramatically sucks in air while she pretends to choke. "He thought that gum sticks in your tummy and makes you all crazy-azy-wazy!" She wiggles her hooves around, her eyes slanting up and down to convey the insanity. "Meanwhile, Cheerilee was--"

"Pinkie!"

The mare freezes.

"Aren't we cooking something?"

"Oh, right!" She giggles. "They're so 'right to the business' on your planet, aren't they?"

You simply shrug as you see Pinkie spinning over to the closest refrigerator, thrusting the door open, and grabbing case after case of items. Bottles and jars join the stacks of things upon the counter. You idly grab a spoon, tapping it atop your right palm. I have to admit, she... it's so weird. Normally, I'd hate to listen to a girl babble on, but with Pinkie it feels so different. She has such a preppy, positive voice. I wish I could hear her talking to me for the rest of my life. Still, you have to focus in order to survive Pinkie's next adventure in cooking.

"What's the next 'project now'?"

"It's code XJH-9911-03.008, Snoopy," Pinkie replies, her head still lodged in the refrigerator.

"English, please."

"Incoming!"

You flip from side to side, wondering what's about to jump out at you. You pause, stratching your head. "Pinkie, I don't understand wh--"

Pinkie leaps through the air and clutches your shoulders, with your mouth opening up wide. Before you can even think, she's flipped a round red container from her back, swatted it with her tail, and knocked it up upon her head. She has already slid the lid off and poured little seed-like things into your mouth. You snort through your nose.

"Isn't it amazing-with-a-capital-z!"

You close your mouth, leaning up against the counter. The pink filly jumps up against your legs, reminding you of a happy puppy, and she gushes with her ears flickering around. You blink. You swish the seed-like things around in your mouth.

*Pop!*

A few of them burst out into your mouth, turning from something hard into something salty, buttery, and fluffy.

*Pop! Pop! Pop!*

You grab your head with your hands as the explosions go on inside your mouth. You feel afraid to open your mouth, but you don't really know what to do. You seem to just sense that you can trust Pinkie, though.

*Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!

You breathe hard, wondering when it'll finally be over. Pinkie slides over to the end of the counter, grabbing a thick can of some kind of spray. You curl yourself against the counter, mouth opening up a little. You taste all around, tongue flipping up and down. Whatever the things you have in there, they sure do taste great.

"Self-popping popcorn! Just eat the kernels, and it explodes in your own mouth!" Pinkie yells as she hops up onto your chest. You cough as she reaches up with her spray-can. You force your mouth open wide, and she sprays all over with her big yellow can. "And no need to add any toppings to a bowl! You can just squirt the butter and stuff right into your mouth!" She bounces over to the right, her hooves clopping against the ground as she dances. She looks so incredibly happy.

"Ugrhghghghgs?" you mumble.

"This has to be the best invention since--" Pinkie stops for a moment, and she twirls about in a circle, her mane bouncing around. "Since-- since--" She presses her front hoof against her cheek and blushes. "Since ever!"

You try your best to munch, really loving the taste but feeling a sharp flash of fear coming up your sides. Dear sweet Celestia, if she made those things any more explosive, they might rip someone's face off! You finish the last of the popcorn as Pinkie twists herself along the kitchen island and throws herself down at your feet.

"Hey," you mutter, grabbing a napkin and cleaning up your face. So much butter, dang. Has to be like a thousand calories in there. "I don't know if that's really such--"

"Really such a good idea," Pinkie finishes your sentence for you, and she lets out a torrent of chuckles. "Oh, Snoopy-you-worried-little-oopy. You sound the same every day." She playfully hits you against the leg with a hoof. "And, besides, we're still going to have to work on it today."

"Oh, sure." You fumble for a glass of iced tea to clean out your mouth. It's a good thing that you're so cute that I can't stay mad at you, Pinkie. "You know, if you made those things any--"

"They're not nearly explosive enough!" Pinkie bursts out, smiling widely as she wiggles her tail between her legs.

"Oh, God."

"Now, that's what all of these utensils and ingredients and stuff are all for." Pinkie clutches a long fork with her hooves as her mouth opens up a tall, green canister. She knocks out some ominous looking greenish-white powder into a small, flat tray. "Just need to amp the recipe up."

You watch as she speeds through ingredients, matting a thick white cream onto the powder and littering other things out on top. You at least thank goodness that she seems to want to experiment with the self-popping popcorn in the big, grey pot-- almost pony-sized-- at the end of the counter, rather than in your mouth again. You step right behind her as she stares at a pickle-less jar filled with tangy juices, looking totally lost in thought. She feels your hand bump against her shoulder.

"Milk of amorous clover, please," she requests.

"Seriously?" You scratch your chin. "You're putting a highly obscure, highly powerful love potion into your popcorn mix here? How would that help with anything?" You grab a thick red vial of liquid from the far corner of the refrigerator all the same.

"Oh, it doesn't work on humans, Snoopy!" Pinkie smirks, flashing back. "Poor Lyra found that out the hard-way, ending up with angry feetsie-weetsie-prints on her face rather than slobbering love-slaves to obey her every whim." She grabs the vial from your hands. "And, besides, I'm only using a teensy-neensy-hope-Twilight-doesn't-mind-that-I-swiped-this-from-her-lab-greensy dose!"

Pinkie drops about a third of the vial onto the creamy, powdery mix in front of her. She shivers with delight, her tail perking up, as the mix transmogrifies from a haphazard, rainbow-colored mix into a thick, pink goop. She holds out a hoof, and you put a spatula onto it. You take a little breath. Well, I guess I heard that said emotional milk has pyrotechnic powers if you expose it to the right kind of energy.

Pinkie attacks the tray full of pink goop. She thrusts herself into the air, kicking the tray to the side. She speeds over and knocks it again with a hoof. She throws out the spatula and has the tray spin in a huge circle. She seems to blur, moving like lightening, as she whips around the goop while whacking it into place with the spatula.

"Spices, please!"

You slide over a canister of cinnamon. She douses the goop with it, holding a hoof out. You toss a big fork. She stabs into the goop repeatedly. You see lights of some kind of bright energy going off inside of that pink mix, sheer nervousness pouring out of your stomach up through your body.

Pinkie stops. You slide over canisters of nutmeg, powdered sugar, and Sugarcube Corner's secret 'omega spice', that little jar complete with golden stripes and a lid with a big pink omega-symbol. She throws it all into the mix, spinning the tray about once more. She speeds over to the side of the counter, poised right besides the huge pot.

You look over, and you watch as Pinkie throws the cover off of a stack of glass jars. All of them crammed with hundreds of kernels, Pinkie picks them up one by one and snaps the lids off with her teeth. She moves so fast, her mouth going over them smoother and quicker than any machine that you've ever seen.

You lean down and watch her flanks jiggling about, her tail swooshing around. You love how she just seems to ooze pink happiness from every inch of herself. Pinkie is so perfectly beautiful, isn't she? Still, you have to softly hit your side with your left hand. Come on, she's... she's a close friend... she's like my right arm. I have to get my mind out of the gutter.

"Oooh, now's where the fun begins!" Pinkie shouts. She whacks the jars into the air and pours kernels out into the humongous pot. You clutch a bunch of jars yourself and do the same. Pinkie looks to be on cloud nine, so happy and so determined. You glance over at the tray of pink goop about to get doused onto the kernels. Little sparks of bright white magical energy pop up inside of it, with the mix wiggling by itself.

Magic doesn't effect humans. I'm fine. I should be fine. Right? Finally, with every jar emptied, Pinkie leans over and seizes the tray. You grab the spatula and flick the pink material down onto the kernels. The goop seems to melt on contact, and pink liquid seeps through all inside the pot. You hear rumbling from deep beneath the mixture of kernels and magical toppings.

You lean back, not wanting to have anything spray all over your face. Pinkie glances over at you, smiling, and she puts a heavy metal lid, looking as big and wide as a manhole cover back on Earth, over the huge pot. She flicks several switches locking the lid in place, and she taps the sides, her face just dripping with pure confidence. "Solidie as a rockie, Snoopy!" Pinkie calls out.

"And what are we doing now?"

"We just wait, for a few seconds," Pinkie replies, hopping over and leaning up against your side. You feel her mane curling around your back. "After the magical additives coat the kernels like your chocolate over your cherries, then we have our stable mix, and the thing will be safe enough to store until we can test it. This is the hard part. Afterwards, it's too easy!"

*Clang!*

You both freeze as you hear the pot shifting back and forth.

"Stable mix?"

"It's stable, you worry-mongering-onger," Pinkie comments, touching a hoof upon the pot.

To Be Continued...

The Third Part

"Pinkie, I feel like we should stand back," you murmur. You see see the pot shaking back and forth. Pinkie shrugs, but she still finds herself stepping backwards just as you do. A torrent of low moans smack against the sides of the pot from the inside. Your lip quivers. "Sweet Christmas, is there something alive in there? Was I just your Igor a second ago?"

"E-go-re?" Pinkie comments as she looks up at you. "Is that a kind of frosting on your planet?"

"Forget it!" You slide over beside a refrigerator at the far side of the kitchen, not sure how to react.. The pot shivers, little magical pulses beginning to pop up at the base. "Pinkie, are you really sure about that dose of ingredients?"

"Dosage? Of course, you whiner!" Pinkie says, hopping over and sitting down besides the pot. "We only used a 'centimeter cubic' of the 'milk of amorous clover' or whatever." She scratches her head. "I thought that clovers were planets, by the way. It's so crazy that they can be milked like cows. I wonder where the udders are on a clover?

In this physics defying world of cartoon ponies, you wouldn't put it past them to have plump pink udders on plants, maybe somewhere deep in the forests outside Canterlot. You put a hand over your eyes for a second, trying to get the thought out of your mind. "Pinkie, are you aware of how small a 'cubic centimeter' is? You haven't taken any pony-chemistry classes or anything, have you?"

She shakes her head, giggling. She leans up against the clattering pot, not caring in the slightest about the bursts of magical energy going on around it. You scratch your head for a second, not knowing whether to cower in imminent danger or just relax with another iced tea.

"You poured like a third of a giant test tube in there," you say. You strain to think back to community college a couple years ago. You got a 'D' in the last chemistry class, but an 'A' in the labs portion. You look at your thumb, knowing that one cc had to be less than that. Well, wait a moment, why do ponies use human-ish concepts of measurement, anyways? Damn this silly colorful world and it's lack of sense-making! "Pouring all that! Isn't that, like, five times more than 'one cc'?"

"Oh, that would be great if it was, Snoopy!" Pinkie calls out, jumping out in your direction. "Five times the magical popping! Five times the flavor!"

You take a little breath as you slide down and sit on the kitchen floor. "At least you know what you're doing."

"Of course, I do!" She rustles a hoof in your hair. You pretend to swat at her, really not liking these little-kid-ish moves of hers. "I mean, I mostly do." She shuffles her hooves around. "I sort of do. I kind of do." She whistles, opening up another refrigerator. "It's trial and--"

*Boom!*

"Error," Pinkie mouths.

Time seems to slow down as you hear a deafening explosion, almost like one of those god-awful Michael Bay movies, and a bright pink light envelops the big pot. You see Pinkie flipping her body around with her back propped against the open refrigerator door. You lean out towards her. Gigantic ripples of what look like pink electricity course through the air along the floor. You open your mouth to scream, but you can't even think.

You blink. You see the bottom half of the pot seeming to totally evaporate, metal shards melting into pink goop as the pink magical light turns pure white. What looks like a never ending flow of fluffy pink bubbles pours across the floor from the pot. You flash back to when they showed a Saturn-V rocket talking off in U.S. history class for a moment.

Your feel your hands grabbing onto Pinkie's back hooves. Her tail goes over your face, and she partly curls over back upon your body. You blink again. You hear the explosion fading off into some combination of a crashing and sputtering sound. You close your eyes, and everything goes black.

You spend goodness knows how long out. Finally, you try to move your hands. You feel your fingers wiggling, and you shift about your feet.

"Snoopy!"

You push yourself upwards.

"Pink!" you scream out. "Pink! Pink everywhere!"

You shoot your head back and you glare upwards. You see the metal pot rocketing out out into the stratosphere, a thick pink and magenta trail flowing out of the back. It punches through a set of clouds, and you take a gulp. You taste cherry pinkness. At this point, you realize that the kitchen no longer has a roof, and you shiver.

You move your head down, and you eyes feast on the scene before you. Pink goop drips from the countertops, the ovens, the refrigerators, the trays of untensils along the wall, and everywhere else. The pink stuff seems to have transmogrified inside everything as well. Pink spatula. Pink clock. Pink oven-mitts. Pink cabinets. Pink doors. You run your fingers against the wall, and the layer of pinkness seems as solid as stone. And then you see your hand.

"Aaaaah! Pink! So goddamn pink!" You shudder your hand in the air. Your fingers obey your commend, but every inch of your skin and body hair looks every little bit as pink as Pinkie Pie. You suck in breaths, feeling overwhelmed by that endless pink flavor in the very air around you. You throw yourself to the right and glare at your reflection in the sink. "Oh my God!"

You run your bright pink hands against your pink face and up to your pink hair. It has fluttered about and poofed up almost exactly like Pinkie Pie's mane. I'm her. I guess. This is either my greatest dream or my worst nightmare.

"Or both!" Pinkie burst out, appearing from out of nowhere behind you. You spin, feeling so overcome by emotion. Your eyes swell up as you see Pinkie looking just as happy as ever.

"Were you reading my thoughts again? You!" you holler, your hands running down your back over to your pants. You finger the empty air behind you. Thank goodness I didn't grow a tail.

"What's wrong with a tail?" Pinkie asks, grinning as she blushes. She slides her own tail against your left leg. You blink again and again, hardly able to take how her hooves and your legs have the exact same color and general apparence.

"Pinkie!" You hop up and down, looking less like a human and more like an angry kangaroo from some Looney Toons production.

"Oh, Snoopy, you adorable-dorkable-pinkie-pants!" Pinkie replies. "I don't really read your thoughts, I just read your super-deedly-dudely-dooperly-quietly talking that you do when you think, using my Pinkie sense!"

"Okay..." you sit atop the counter, a pink metal fork sticking into your bottom. You pick it off as you wince, and you lock eyes with Pinkie. She seems just endlessly amused by the whole thing. "Well, trial and error right?" You furiously point out at all directions. "Holy cheese and crackles, I feel pink underneath my skin!" You pinch your fingers against your cheek, and she simply giggles. "I feel like I'm bleeding sugary raspberry frosting!"

Pinkie props her body up against the counter besides you, shifting her mane around. "That would be great, Snoopy!" Pinkie responds. "You'd taste great if you put a lot of yourself into my new--" She makes a 'cracked' sort of expression, her eyes dilating. "Cupcakes!"

You feel yourself turning white-- or, at least as whitish-pink as you can. "Pinkie," you moan like a defeated animal, your fingers going over her front hooves.

Pinkie throws her head back and laughs, her bottom hooves clopping against the floor. "Oh, you should have seen the look on your face!" She laughs even harder as you just stare blankly back at her. "You shouldn't believe everything that you read on the Ponynet with those pPads you, Twi, and Rarity use so much!"

You blow a raspberry, putting your fingers against your cheeks.

"So, I guess code XJH-9911-03.008 didn't work out," she says, slanting her head to the side. "Oh, well. Back to the cutting board, I suppose."

"Pinkie," you moan, "how long am I going to be like this--" You point with one hand over at your other hand, fingers gripping her hoof. "Just like you?"

"No worries, you frowny-pink-complainer! Won't be long at all!" You let out a sigh of relief. "Give or take a month or two, maybe."

"A month or two!" You can barely breathe. You feel sweat pouring off your head. You stick your tongue out, and you lick your own pinkish-red sweat. It tastes like cherry soda.

Pinkie shrugs, and she breaks free of your grip. She jumps up atop the counter besides you, and she stands up straight on her back hooves. She points up into the sky with both front hooves. "Enough talking! It's time for getting back that rocket-pot-thing!" She leans over and wiggles, making a concentrated face as she almost bites her lip. Her eyes narrow.

"Uh, Pinkie, what are you doing?"

"What's wrong with my engines?" Pinkie scowls, her tail drooping. "I need to complain to Boeing about these... these mechanical monstrosities. They don't even accept commercial fuel around these parts, anyways."

You take a deep breath.

"Oh, no!" Pinkie scrapes her hooves along her sides and smacks her cutie marks with her hooves. "What happened to my engines? Somepony must of stolen them!" She flips about left and right, glancing out in all directions. "My big grey engines are probably being sold on PonyBay on some 'Buy It Now' auction as we speak, most likely by some no-goodnic-Hooftington-underworld type!"

"Pinkie!"

She gropes about her flanks. "Maybe there's somepony with a fedora hat and trenchcoat coupled with red eyes walking about, with my engines clutched inside his pockets! If watching television has taught me anything, it's that dark-haired ponies with red eyes wearing a trenchcoat and fedora are evil! And they're everywhere! If only we could call Scooby-Doo and the gang to help!"

"Pinkie!" You smack your hands against the counter besides her.

"Yes?" She asks in a surprisingly calm, measured tone, sounding almost like a receptionist.

"Since when have you been able to fly?"

"Since--" She starts to say, opening her mouth up wide and melodramatically waving a hoof in the air. She trails off, closing her mouth and having a cold chill flash over her face. "Oh, I can't fly." She takes a gulp. "I forgot."

"Can't Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy take care of, uh," you say, fumbling for the right words, "areal assaults of a confectionery nature?" You glare at the pot way up in the sky, flipping about in a weird loop-de-loop as you speak.

"They're all the way over in Canterlot with their coltfriends, remember?"

You start to sweat even more, thick reddish-pink trails going down your cheeks. What the hell are we going to do? We didn't just destroy the kitchen-- Mr.Cake will be so pissed-- we have to do something about that flying magical whatnot. What if it comes back down and levels Mayor Mare's place in City Hall? Or Twilight's library? Or worse! And I'm still a living mix between a male human Pinkie Pie and a walking, sweating cherry!

"Oooh, that's right!" Pinkie says, reaching over and slurping along the side of your face. She smiles. "Like cherry soda!"

You make a low, angry groan. You turn, and you see Lyra's body perched out from part of the ruined roof. You take a deep breath.

To Be Continued...

The Fourth Part

Will she ever leave me alone! You grind your teeth, although trying not to show your discomfort. It's like a bad National Geographic documentary or something. "Oh, joy, the wild unicorn stalks her prey," you mutter, "now coming upon him in a vulnerable moment, she moves in for the 'mauling'."

"Lyra, what's going on! Since when are you a roof-er pony?" Pinkie bursts out. "Oooh! Oooh! I know! You're one of those chimney-sweeper ponies coming to take your long pole-y thing-ies and cram those down to suck up the dirty stuff. Sorry, there! Problem is-- we gotsta no roof!" Her voice squeaks a bit, sounding even more adorable than usual. "It like exploded and stuff!"

You glance around all over, feeling very confused. Wait, where the hell is she? You suddenly spot Pinkie, having appeared right behind Lyra up amongst a ruined piled of ceiling tiles high above you. Stupid teleporting, non-physics-obeying Pinkie! Lyra simply stares at you, her eyes bulging out in such a creepy way. Pinkie, once again, seems either totally oblivious of Lyra's obsession or simply uncaring.

"Oh, Snoopy," Lyra loudly moans, her fluffy teal mane shifting about. "Is this a new look? A new fashion? I love it!" She claps, giving a little wink. "It's like 'haute couture', isn't it?" She curls up her up her hooves as she sticks out in the air towards you, just barely keeping from falling over from the wooden planks that she stood on.

"Yes, yes," you say back, trying in vain to brush off the pink coloring that has been embedded into your arms. "I just love looking like I ate the experimental candy in Willy Wonka's factory or something." Your sarcasm seems to zoom right over the heads of both mares. You cringe. And, by the way, didn't that blueberry chick like die or something? I know that the fat chocolate boy got put into the damn furnace or something.

"Oh, who is this Willy that you keep talking about, Snoopy?" Pinkie asks. She hops from derelict plank to derelict plank remaining from what had used to be the roof. "Oh, and Lyra!"

The unicorn doesn't want to take her eyes off you. They've shrunk into something normal, with hearts almost flying from her pupils, but you still feel creeped out. Pinkie leaps to the side and bounces up onto Lyra's back, surprising the hell out of her. Pinkie leans a little to the side and laughs.

"Oh, sorry, poor chimney-sweeping-mare, but we gots no roof so we gots nothing to clean!" Pinkie thrusts her hooves forwards and idly plays with Lyra's mane. The unicorn opens up her mouth, not sure how to begin to answer. Pinkie just cuts Lyra off. "But, oh, gosh! I know! You could always apply to work at Lulus!"

"Pinkie," you call out, slapping your hands against your pants. This is freaking pointless!

"Oh, they've got this new addition to their roof! It's all tall and high and stuff. It's meant for parties as like a promenade and stuff, just perfect for those late-night romantic-ish parties! I was just there two days before the day after tomorrow but three days before Friday although two weeks after the fortnight a while ago!" Pinkie rattles on.

"Isn' that-- today?" Lyra answers.

"Oh, that's right!" Pinkie says. "I was there today!" She hops over to Lyra's side, leaning up against her. "And, wow, did I find out what they'll have for Roseluck's next party tomorrow!"

"Pinkie!" you yell.

"It's like an animals party with like ponies dressed as like bees and squirrels and bunnies and woodland thingies and stuff!" Pinkie laughs. "Isn't that something? I wonder if I'll see Junebug dressed as a big squirrel. Oh, hey! That reminds me of that time that I used to have three pet squirrels! It's a great story, and it all goes back to that one night in Everfree when Twilight's old green--"

"Pinkie!" you scream out, pumping your fists into the air.

"What?"

"Fix this! Fix it, now!" You run your pink hands through your sweat soaked pink hair, your breaths turning into pants.

"Oh, right." A flat, blank expression flashes over Pinkie. She shifts around her hooves, and she makes something like an imaginary camera in front of her. She makes loud clicking sounds as she focuses from spot to spot around the ruined kitchen. You freeze in place, trying to calm yourself. Pinkie jumps down from the roof and takes imaginary photographs all around.

"Well?"

"Hold on, I'm processing," Pinkie replies. She coughs, and she suddenly stops in place. She suddenly lies down on the floor. She slides her hooves around her head, making sounds like a copy machine or a printer. Her mane wiggles about as he body shivers upon the floor.

"Uh, Pinkie?" Lyra says, carefully trying to step down some overturned refrigerators down from the edges of what used to be the roof over to the floor.

Pinkie closes her eyes, and you see something like pink steam shooting out of her ears. You move down and put your hands around her, no idea how to even think about this. "Pinkie? Are you okay? Talk to me!"

*Pop!*

You blink. You can hardly believe your eyes, but you see something like a white Polaroid picture card sliding out of Pinkie's mouth. You pick it out of her mouth, not thinking but just acting by instinct, and you glare at it. She scampers back to action, twirling around in a circle for a second before popping her body against your leg.

"I know!" Pinkie calls out.

"And?" Lyra asks. You look over, and you see her slyly trying to slide up next to you-- fur upon skin-- just as Pinkie has. You frown.

"Everything is destroyed!"

Pinkie bucks up on her hind hooves and gestures all about. She makes a deeply profound look as her mane droops down and her nose curls up, as if she had just proved string theory or discovered Atlantis or heard Celestia say Roseluck throws better parties.

You just put your palm against your face.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that."

"And you're-- you're-- pink!" Pinkie takes a hoof and rubs it across your belly.

"Y-y-y-yes..."

You try not to collapse onto the floor from the ticklish feelings, little fluffy explosions bursting inside your head. Pinkie takes her hoof off of you, with Lyra watching intently. You turn around, sitting upon the counter. You make a deep, burning frown. You feel your cheeks sinking, and you glare at Pinkie, your patience almost totally exhausted.

"So," you say, "what do we do about--"

"Picture!"

You look down at the Polaroid-like thing in your hands. It seems to be a photograph of a letter.

Dear Pinkie,

We're so proud of how well life has treated you in Ponyville. Well, your father and I have joked for a long time that you'd be the first mare to send a low-orbiting satellite across Equestria. If you're reading this message at this moment then-- surprise, surprise-- you've actually done it. Now, Pinkie, you need to be more careful, not just for your own sake but for the sake of other ponies around you.

We strongly suggest that you send some of your pegasii friends after whatever flying object (your father has bet me that it'll be a party pinata, while I say it'll be a cooking container) you've sent into space. If that's not possible, please visit your friend Twilight and ask for her assistance. Perhaps she can cast a magical spell that will give you wings.

Sincerely,
Mom

P.S. Avoid that Lyra character. She's so... off-putting. She seems like the mare that would cop a feel across your backside while you're engrossed in doing something else.

{This picture was brought to you by Spring Step's House of Edible Photographs }

You pause. You take a little breath, and you cram the tip of the picture into your mouth. You chew. Ooooh! You smile as you crunch it down. It's like a flat graham cracker with chocolate on the insides! It suddenly strikes you that this had been in Pinkie's mouth for quite a while until you bit into it, and you stop. You shrug. But you abruptly feel a rubbing along your back.

You flip around, glaring at Lyra. She simply stands against the wall, whistling innocently. You glance back at the photograph, and you can't get over your big bite mark left in the side.

"What's it say?" Pinkie asks, jumping up against your sides and almost grabbing your shoulders. You try to keep yourself standing up straight, and you hand over the picture. She lets out a loud 'oh', and she surveys up and down every last inch of it.

"So--"

"So!" Pinkie yells out. She throws the photograph back into her mouth, crunching it down in a split-second. "Let's head for Twilight's!"

"Thank God," you moan. "And can I finally--"

"No time to lose!"

Pinkie clutches your side. You let out an 'eep', and the two of you gash out of the kitchen's door out the hallway and to the exit. Lyra simply sits back in the middle of the kitchen, trying not to follow that closely. You half-run and Pinkie half-carries you like a rag-doll along the middle of Ponyville.

Pony after pony stops and stares at the two of you. You don't wave back. You don't even have the time or ability to think, Pinkie's body somehow grabbing onto your back. It seems like some kind of demented horseback riding, but your legs drag across the gravely street.

Before you know it, she's flung you forwards onto Twilight's door. You throw your hands out in front of you. Pinkie zips over in the way in a split-second, and you find both of you smooshed against the side of Twilight's wall. Her fluffy mane and tail has somehow softened things enough that you feel unhurt, although suddenly totally exhausted.

"Pinkie, uh," you moan, trying to get your breath back, "what, uh, are you, uh, gonna, urrrgh, say?" You spit upon the ground. You lean against a window, blinking rapidly as your lungs suck up air.

*Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!*

Pinkie just attacks the door, her hooves scraping up and down as if she wanted to turn the wood into splinters. You hear loud groaning inside. Somepony walks over.

"Okay, I'm coming! Seriously!" Twilight says, Pinkie still going on and on, "Seriously! You don't need to alert everypony in Ponyville!"

Pinkie stops as the door opens, and she grabs you. You flail your arms around as she holds you and props you against the swinging door handle. You see Twilight, the purple unicorn's body covered by what seems like a gigantic white raincoat with thick black sunglasses and long black stockings on, and you meekly smile.

"What is it?" she asks. The sunglasses slide down a little on her face, and you can tell that she finds your bright pink-colored skin, hair, clothes, and everything else as weird as you do.

"Ummm..." you mutter. What the hell did just happen? "I..." You clap your hands together. You look at Pinkie. She hops up besides you with her bottom hooves sliding around the ground, looking like your own personal cheerleader. You take a gulp. "Well, Pinkie wanted to make self-popping popcorn. She swiped some of your milk of amorous clover. She used it with this mix with other stuff. The kitchen was all exploded." You point all across your body as you take a deep breath. "I got turned into a mix of human, Pinkie Pie, and a berry cocktail. We also launched this magically powered rocket pot thing that we have to take out ASAP." You make a pained, forced smile. "And that's... it."

Twilight leaned back, rubbing her back against a side-table. She throws off her sunglasses, beginning to sweat. "Oh," Twilight moans, "not again!"

Something doesn't feel right. You don't move. You just think. What the hell did Twilight just say? You suddenly feel as if your insides are melting.

"Again!" you scream. You hop up and down in place, hands going through your fluffy pink mane-like hair and almost ripping it out. "What the hell do you mean-- 'again'!"

Twilight puts a hoof against your side, motherly affection almost dripping from her. "Oh, Snoopy," she replies, "this is a big deal to you. But, for Pinkie Pie--" Twilight glances over at the happy, bouncy mare that had just scooted around into her library, glancing around at the various books. "Turning things pink while exploding rooms is like... Tuesday."

To Be Continued...

The Fifth Part

"And," you say, "there was this letter and stuff saying that you'd be able to help us." You reach down to your pocket. You fumble around, feeling a pair of keys, a wallet, and a lollipop. Oh, right. You sigh. "But I ate it."

"No, I ate it, Twilight!" Pinkie chimes in, standing atop one of Twilight's bookshelves with her hooves juggling bright new catalogs into the air.

"We both ate it." Those words feel so odd coming out of your mouth.

"Pinkie! Don't touch those! You'll get them all out of order!" Twilight throws herself across the room and braces herself against the bookshelf. Her horn glows brightly, but she holds her fire, waiting for the pink mare to respond.

"Twilight, don't worry," Pinkie says, leaping down the shelves almost like a monkey as she kicks to slide those books back into place, "we just are trying to find the right spell-book."

"Let me do that!" Twilight lights up the whole shelf with her purple magical aura. "What's it for, anyways?" She eyes both of you. "Oh, I know it's to get down the flying confectionery object, but how on earth do you plan to do that?"

"What you did with Rarity, you silly," Pinkie answers. She swats the air with a hoof, giggling. "Just give us wings. Those cutesy butterfly like things. Then, we'll chase after it."

"Blast it, I wish Fluttershy or Rainbow were here," Twilight mutters. She grabs a set of thick green volumes from high atop the bookshelf. They spin around her head like bugs.

"Hey, wait," you whisper. Give 'us' wings? 'We' will chase after it? What the hell! "What's this 'we' talk?"

Pinkie scurries to the side, her tail curling up around your legs. You run your hands along your cheeks. Pinkie looks up at you, her mouth open as she grins. You had no idea what to make of her happy yet almost devious expression. Pinkie, I've more than had enough of this.

"A-ha!" Twilight calls out. She throws down the skinniest of the green volumes in the middle of the floor, her face scrunching. She runs a hoof along the page. "This is the newest edition of the spell. They're more like insect wings now, and they're very speedy-- very flexible as well." She visualizes the contours of the spell in her mind, her eyes glazing over. "I'll need to use some potions with it, but it won't take long at all to cast. The strength of this edition is astounding. You might even beat Fluttershy no less."

Magic doesn't work on humans. Why the hell am I afraid, anyways? You try to take a sigh of relief. You find Pinkie's flanks bouncing up against the back of your legs. You stagger forwards, with her half-pushing you and half-rubbing up against you. What is this? Pinkie!

"Do the wings come in pink?" Pinkie asks, leaping up on Twilight's right side as she pushes you forwards against Twilight's left side. The two of you make a sudden Twilight sandwich, with the unicorn letting out an 'urk' sound. Your feet rubbing up against Twilight's hooves, you try to step backwards.

"Uh, yes," Twilight replies. She leans down and slides right out of the two of you's hold. You glance over at her, and you glare at Pinkie.

You feel like barking 'get serious, for once'. But you realize that it would be as futile as asking a fish 'get dry, for once' or Fluttershy 'get daring, for once' or Dashie 'get slow, for once'. You just take a gulp as you move yourself against the bookshelf. Pinkie won't take her eyes off of you.

"Ready to fly, Snoopy?" Pinkie asks. "The bloody Red Baron isn't anywhere around, and you won't need any goggles or any doghouse to ride on." She giggles, her mane and tail perking up. "Get ready, ace!"

"Pinkie! Magic doesn't work on humans!" you protest, your hands in the air. Oh, dear sweet merciful Celestia or whomever is in charge of this world, please don't. Please, no. I can't stand heights. You think back to your last trip up a skyscraper, and how the bile just seemed to course all through your insides as you looked straight down from the elevator. Your head had hit the glass, eyes spinning. You could hardly breathe back then.

"That's a handicap," Twilight says, standing up straight and looking off at a far corner of the library. She slides out a beat up old grayish-green book and flings it through the air towards her. "Not that big of a deal, though." She flips through the book, holding it right above her head. You peek over. It seems more like the scribblings of an insane person-- weird black and red shapes drawn inside a haphazard mixture of huge and tiny text-- than anything readable.

"I don't get it," you comment.

"Well, Pinkie can grow wings," Twilight says, looking back at the mare. Pinkie stood up proudly and made a mock salute. "So, you can get tethered to her."

"Tethered!" You picture yourself clutching for dear life onto a tiny rope with building after building flashing far below your feet. You can hardly keep from crying at the sheer blast of terror. No way! No freaking way!

"It's not what you think!" Twilight says, walking up over to you. "It's not what you think at all. Really. Take a look at this." She magically holds up the book in the air over to you. You reach out. As you hands come near, whatever weird nullifying force humans have counteracts her magic, and the grayish-green book collapses onto the ground, pages scattering out of the binding. "Oh, sorry!" Twilight blushes, and she picks it up just with her hooves, holding it back up to you. You read on.

The SECRETS of SPERM enhancement-- MIGHT SPERM POWER flowing across NEW metallic wondermints enshrine the next course of POWERMENT FOR INDUSTRIAL electricity during COURSE enabler TOXIC FAITH moments?

Some say that it can be so, although those sum have declared that rabbits pellets are shined whenever what may is like when do what? HO-oh!

Faith toxic is the next black managements, for when toxic faith knocks your door, west is where YOU end your TRAILS with PANACHE and FRESH IGLOOS-LIKE expense reductions!

You glare at the image of what looks like human-sized sperm with wiggling tails flying through the sky like clouds and powering what looks like a set of windmills. You blanch, head shaking. "What the--"

Twilight flips the book back, looks at the page, and blushes even redder. "Oh, sorry! Next couple pages!" She flips though the book and gives it back over. You glance down at it, noticing odd, barely legible scribbling everywhere. You see a tall pegasus riding through the air with some scaly creature sort of like an adolescent Spike. You scratch your chin as you focus on the pegasus' flanks, and you notice some kind of tentacle sticking from the pegasus to the dragon-like thing's back.

"I'm, seriously, going to," you say, taking a nervous gulp and forcing out those last words, "ride Pinkie."

"And you're not even taking me out to dinner first!" Pinkie calls out, smirking as she hops to and fro across Twilight's back. "So aggressive-and-masculine, my little Snoopy."

You open your mouth to say something back. "I guess we don't have much time," Twilight interrupts. "I should probably get started.

"Oh, yay! Oh, yay! Oh, yay!" Pinkie yells, moving up and down rapidly like a jackhammer in sheer excitement.

Twilight mutters part of the spell as her horn starts to glow. You watch as a purple aura goes over Pinkie's body. She keeps on hopping, her eyes focused on her determined unicorn friend. You see whips of purple magic appearing over your head, kept away from your human body by whatever repellent force your own cells contain.

You've heard Twilight explain it in depth before, something about how magic travels in subatomic particles that merely bounce off of molecules in your own planet, but you couldn't keep from dozing off as she went on. Now, you strain to remember. How the hell is she attaching me to Pinkie if magic won't work on me?

"Ooooh, wow, Twilight! That t-t-tickles!" Pinkie calls out, throwing her body down and shivering. Pink and purple sparks flutter all across her sides, making her jiggle every which way every other second. She closes her eyes and lets out a torrent of small laughs. "S-s-so w-w-weird! Wowie-zowie!" Little bumps have already formed on her back.

"Take off your clothes, please," Twilight says as she finishes the first part of the spell, looking over at you.

"Aw, crap," you mutter, but you still pull off everything sans your undies and slide it onto the floor in front of you. You feel so exposed and so helpless. You know that you have to be blushing profusely, even though your pink-stained skin wouldn't show it.

You glance over awkwardly as Pinkie still writhes on the floor, giggling again and again. You make a little gasp as Twilight's eyes move up and down along your figure, but she has a very clinical expression. She blinks, and she focuses on your discarded clothes. Her purple aura covers across them.

"Onorum! Sourterum!" Twilight hollers. She stands back and leans her head up. You look into your eyes, and you immediately wish that you hadn't. Small purple stars, burning brightly, seem to have replaced her pupils. "Sourterum-eschewla!" You reflexively close your eyes, and you hold your arms against your chest and belly.

Twilight lets out a chorus of what seems like nonsense words. You feel magic rushing through the air around you, the pure energy making the whole room feel frozen for some reason. Yet you still sense her magical grip bouncing off of you from your human nature. You shudder.

"Twilight," you groan, "what the hell is going to--"

"All done!"

You blink. You feel Twilight's hooves going over your chest and belly, pulling you down. You sit, and you open your eyes up slowly. You gaze into Twilight's motherly expression, and you feel rather relieved. You feel something thick and rubbery nudging up against your legs, and you look down.

You see a bright pinkish-magenta flight suit, matching your pink stained skin and hair perfectly. "Oh, I guess that used to be my clothes, but now I just," you begin.

"Put it on," Twilight finishes.

You make a little sigh, and you thrust your feet down inside it. The rubbery sensations seem like nothing you've felt before. You snicker for a moment, saying, "You know, back on Earth, guys like me would charge good money to have women dress them up in these kinds of outfits."

Twilight smiles, blushing. You stand up, feeling her rubbing up with her hooves. In just a moment, you reach the top of the zipper and flick a latch besides your neck. You take a deep breath. The rubber suit fits your whole body like a second skin You have open room for your feet, hands, and head, but the pinkish material envelops every inch of the rest of your body snugly.

"Okay," you say, seeing Twilight size you up, "it fits nice enough. But how does this get attached to Pinkie? And how is she, ah, doing?" You look over to your side, and you see a big blob of pinkish-purple light where Pinkie had lay.

"Pinkie?" Twilight walked over, holding out a hoof.

You let out an 'urk' as you feel something warm and slender wrapping around your chest. You look down, spotting something like a tentacle for a split-second, and suddenly you get jerked up to the side and thrust into the air. You wave your arms and legs helplessly as the tentacle pushes you up and down. Your eyes focus on the ceiling as you just narrowly dodge the fan, feeling like a ball in the hand of a juggler.

"Wow! Look what you did to my tail! Awesome!" Pinkie yells from below you. "Oh, and just look at these wings!"

You try to slide yourself over to the side, looking down as the tentacle holds you tightly. You feel it going up into some kind of belt on your suit. You see Pinkie standing proud below you. She hops from side to side as Twilight lets out a sigh of relief. Thick white wings with pink stripes along the edges, looking a lot like what you'd find on a dragonfly, flicker upon Pinkie's sides.

"Hey, wait a minute!"

"Oh, sorry, Snoopy," Pinkie says, and she yanks you closer. You rub up against her back, reaching out and holding onto her mane for a second. You glance to the side, and you see her hovering in the air a few inches. Her tentacle stretches around your sides down to your belly. "Wow, I really can do it! I'm doing it! I can't believe it!" She looks at Twilight for a long while before twisting her head back towards you. You can tell that her sheer happiness almost drips off of her face.

"So, I suppose that's what used to be your tail now," you say as you nudge your fingers against the pink tentacle eveloped around your body.

"Oh, I see, it's like a belt!" Pinkie wiggles her flanks, sliding her tentacle-tail off of you. She slides it through a set of straps around your midriff, and you feel the tip of her tail tickling your chin. You giggle, having little choice.

Twilight laughs at the scene. "This is just perfect. The new spell worked better than I could have imagined."

"What are we waiting for!" Pinkie yells, zipping around in the air inside Twilight's library like a trapped bee, You grip her shoulders tightly, even though you can tell that her special tail has an incredible hold on you. Her insect-like wings beat furiously besides you. "Let's get outta here and go for that flying pot!"

"Hey, wait!" Twilight bucks up on her hind hooves as Pinkie sails over to a massive, open window. "There's so many details about flying that you don't know! There's a whole training--"

"Booooring," Pinkie moans, wiggling her head about. You feel her mane fluttering across your chest and face as you ride along her back. Ugh! So pink! You blink as you gently push down.

"And not to mention the one weakness of the spell!"

"See ya!" Pinkie pushes her hooves back against her body and shoots her wings backwards. You boom through the air and out the window. You flick your head back, seeing Twilight's miffed expression. The unicorn quickly turns into a purple dot in the distance as Pinkie flies through the still Ponyville air.

"Pinkie," you say, leaning down and gripping her closely. You try your best not to look down, just focusing on the fluffy pink mane in front of you. "That probably was important!"

"Nowhere near as important as the ducks," she calmy replies, and she turns off to the right. You take a short, tense breath.

"What?"

"Ducks! Watch out!"

Fluttery white feathers smack against your face and shoulders, knocking you back. You reach up and swat your hands about from side to side. Angry quacks fill the air around you. You cough as you slide back on Pinkie's body, your legs moving down over besides her fast beating wings.

"You filthy squawking bastards!" you scream out. The crowd of ducks break to your right side, going off twoards Everfree Forest. You shake a fist at them. "Hey, I'm flyin' here! I'm flyin' here!" You slip into your best NYC accent without even thinking.

"Hey, I think I see the pot up ahead!"

"Good," you say as you look up and to the left. You ride Pinkie down as she follows a huge gust of wind. You lean forwards and get a good look at the ground. You immediately wish that you hadn't. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" You feel your eyes growing big as dinner plates as you observe pony after pony scurrying around far beneath you-- as small as the little toy horses from your sister's doll collection at home.

"There's nothing to be worried about, Snoopy the cute little jumpy," Pinkie remarks, laughing for a second. You don't respond. You simply glare downwards as Sugarcube Corner, Colgate's Dentistry, and Roseluck's flower cart pass below you. You press your body against Pinkie's, with your hands rubbing up along the back of her head. She seems to like your touch more than you'd think, blushing as your fingers curl against her fur. "Nothing to worry about at all! And I can see the flying pot from here!"

"Fine," you reply. "Fine, fine." You close your eyes once again.

"My vectors are locked. Ready to aim. Ready to fire." You can tell that she's making a shark-like expression as her ears perk backwards.

"Why couldn't I have appeared in Equestria in, say, a Canterlot hot tub alongside Princess Luna instead," you moan.

To Be Continued...

The Sixth Part

“Don’t be back-smack-piddly-whack-backtalkin’ to me, co-pilot!” Pinkie calls out as she slides herself to the right, moving straight towards an array of huge maple trees. You feel her tail-tentacle somehow breaking off into a batch of quivering tentacles, clutching your body even closer to her back as leaves smack against your face. “Are you interpolating my gimbel angels into space vector quadratics yet?” She flicks her left hoof in some way that makes you grip it with your fingers, nudging your skin onto her pink fluff without even thinking.

“Sure,” you murmur as Pinkie beats her wings and shoots up at a ninety degree angle. Oh, God! The force plays a number on your stomach, causing you to hold Pinkie’s hoof even tighter. She giggles in anticipation as her eyes focus again on the flying pot that reappears in the distance in front of you.

I’m— wow— I’m taking flying rather well. No need for barf bags or anything, so I guess I just trust Pinkie to keep me safe. The wind seems to flow right past your head as Pinkie’s mane flutters. The pot looks aimed somewhere in the direction of Canterlot while still leading you both over the Everfree forest on the way, Pinkie picking up speed.

“We’re getting closer!” Pinkie bursts out. She seems to kick up a little more speed as you grip her right hoof with your right hand, both arms now rubbing up along her shoulders. It feels oddly intimate, but your body feels so pink and so transformed already— something you’ve already gotten used to, giving you a little underlying sense of worry— that it just comes naturally. “Just a few more meters, Snoopy-oopy!”

The pot won’t give up without a fight, shooting off to the left and leaving a sparkly trail through the air. Sweet goodness, does that metal have a magical mind of its own by now? Pinkie careens after it as you both fly underneath the treetops, zig-zagging between trunk after trunk as branches smack your sides. You shut your eyes tightly and just listen to the angry moans and sudden yelps of various Everfree monsters in surprise as the scene unfolds above them.

“You’re a slippery little potty-wotty-naughty, aren’t you?” Pinkie screams out. You nudge your eyes open and watch helplessly as you fling out across the surface of a gigantic lake. Alligator-like mutant creatures with nasty, beady red eyes swing around you, chomping mere inches from Pinkie’s hooves. The water splashes up again and again as she zooms about. She finally hits the end of the lake and tosses herself to the left onto a rocky outcropping— the pot still pretty out of reach.

How the hell is that thing still flying anyways? Is there some kind of atomic reaction from the popcorn or something— good Lord, we’ve invented nuclear food, haven’t we? I wonder if we could get the pony version of the Nobel Prize for that. Pinkie smashes right out of a clump of trees in a sudden loop-de-loop, some kind of gigantic creature with the smell of limburger cheese and a voice like the Hulk growling in front of you. Or maybe the Darwin Prize, dammit!

Your eyes open for a quick moment to see a horrible scaly figure swing a massive batch of claws towards you, with jagged rocks coating the ground beneath you, and you squeal. Pinkie tosses you both straight down, the claws swinging into thin air, and she bounces straight up again before a sudden pink flash overwhelms your senses. Your face scrunches up.

“Da hell was that,” you remark after loud clang of metal against rock snaps you back to full attention in a split-second. You shake your head as you feel Pinkie before over to the left, popping out of a gaggle of huge bushes in a massive field.

“Just a bit closer,” Pinkie comments, her lips pursed in anticipation as she swings her hooves forwards. Her wings beat strongly.

“Is this the Everfree? It doesn’t feel like it?” you cry out. Is that pot thing taking us to Canterlot? Why the hell would it do that? Is it even alive or anything to begin with— even able to think, really? Pinkie contorts herself into a long shape, hooves pointing together as she looks like an Olympic swimmer, and you feel her tentacles going up around your neck to hold you even tighter. The flying pot looks way off ahead, the field going off almost forever.

“What is it with you and asking all these questions?” retorts Pinkie with a bouncy laugh. “Is this the Everfree? Is this the real life?”

“Is this just fantasy!” you scream back, your head resisting right upon her neck as her wings beat even harder than before.

“Caught in a landslide!” Pinkie half-sings and half-screams. The world seems to blur into a solid glob of various pink shades as Pinkie hurls herself through the air. Your senses don’t seem to, well, make sense of anything anymore.

“No escape from reality!” you reply as Pinkie makes a huge arc across a small, grassy hill over to the left. I feel almost as Pinkie as Pinkie herself, somehow. The magical pink coatings all over and inside your body feel like a natural part of you more and more each second— rather than something alien like before.

“Open your eyes!” Pinkie slides up through a sudden burst of wind and you find yourself going almost ninety degrees upwards, clouds bursting around you. You feel the sheer force of your movement wiggling your lips across your face.

“Look up to the skies!” As you penetrate a thick tuft of clouds, you come across some kind of aerial pocket with clear air all around you. You take a moment to glance down, seeing various hills and valleys fading into fancy pockets of big buildings besides a massive castle. A soft clang snaps your attention upwards, and you spy the magical pot only a few feet above you both. Freaky pink goop still bubbles up around its top and bottom, ripples of something like electricity coursing along the metal sides.

“And see!” you both sing out. You lean upwards, slowly standing atop Pinkie’s back with her tentacles holding you safely in position. Wind blasting your face and hair, you summon your strength and stick out both hands while assuming a kind of power-stance.

“Come on, dammit,” you mutter, “I ain’t gonna, ah, hurt you mister pot.” Pinkie’s wings seem to beat at full speed, making it shift even closer. Your fingers pop against the metal sides ever so slightly as you hear a deep gurgling sound inside of the pot. “Just come back to mister and misses cook here.” You bite your lip, which weirdly tastes even more like bubble-gum compared to the rest of your pink body, and you wrap your fingers against the top of the pot.

“Yowza! We’re almost to the stratosphere, Snoopy,” Pinkie announces, still flying upwards, as you grip the pot against your chest with both hands. Somehow, the blasts of pink energy shooting out of the bottom seem to fade, and it looks more like any other pot— albeit one with the metal twisted and banged open like Swiss cheese from magical recipe making. “Got it, Snoopy?”

“Ah, yeah,” you murmur, cradling the pot best you can with both arms almost like you would your neighbor’s puppy back on Earth. The rumbling noises inside of it seem to calm down into nothingness, the top rattling no more. “I’m good.” Oh, gosh, this might mean the end of the weirdness.

“Good!” Pinkie screams out, tossing herself over to the right and sliding over in an arc back into the clouds. You wave some of the watery goop out of your eyes and see the Canterlot castle growing bigger and bigger up ahead. Without even thinking, you shift your hands upwards and pop open the top of the pot, peeking inside ever so slightly to see if everything had totally died down.

What feels like a whole ocean of pink bubbles suddenly flies out of the pot as the top wiggles completely open. Dammit! You hardly have a second to react as the bubbles fly into your face and all across your shoulders. You gasp for breath, throwing yourself backwards onto Pinkie’s flanks with your legs still grip on her back. And you watch as the almost never-ending torrent goes on. Pinkie makes a confused, whining-like noise as you both bounce out of the clouds into a thick layer of wind beneath.

“What in the hay is going on back there?” she asks, and you can’t even begin to think of an answer. Finally, the flow of bubbles ends just as abruptly as they had begun, and you cough as your mind swirls. You brush your hands across your cheeks, tingly sensations going through you once again just like when the pot had exploded the first time.

Oh, dear sweet God, I breathe pink. I think pink. My blood is pink. I feel pink. My heart is pink. Why the hell did I just do that! “Ah, something odd happened,” you mutter. You blink uncontrollably before leaning over onto Pinkie’s shoulders, sucking in deep breaths the next moment. She curls backwards and gives you a kind, tender expression. Not that there’s anything wrong with being pink, of course.

“At least we have the,” Pinkie begins. She stops as you both hear a low, mechanical sort of groaning. “The pot?” In just a matter of seconds, the thick but beat-up metal thing seems to contract in on itself like some kind of neutron star. Your hands shove it down onto Pinkie’s back, your body shivering with surprise, and you watch as the metal contorts into a clump like used aluminum foil before shrinking even more.

“Pinkie,” you start, “I think…” You stop since you can hardly think at all. In a split-second, the metal piece collapses in on itself until it becomes something like a spearmint gum wrapper, a tiny gray glob. You pick it up and, for lack of a better option, slide it into your front right pocket. Well, that was— honestly— not what I was expecting. At. All. “I think… we’re… ah…”

“We’re done! We caught it!” Pinkie suddenly screams out, leaping out into a huge spiral and tossing herself around you. You freeze, body totally exposed to the thin air with just her tentacles keeping you connected as she does her victory lap. “Got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— go—”

“Pinkie!” you yell, feeling one part dizzy and five parts terrified of falling right onto the castle far below. Little help here! She suddenly flings herself into the nearby clouds and slaps you forwards with her back hooves. You let out an ‘eep’ before she ripples you up her sides, her wings flying her in cartwheels of sheer happiness. Yet she suddenly stops and clutches you with her chest.

“I’m so happy, Snoopy,” she says, her eyebrows fluttering as she puts on a pleased, pretty facial expression. Your dizziness fades immediately into something else. You blush, not even sure what to begin to say back. You just fold your arms around hers as she holds you in place in front of her, picturesque little clouds fluttering around you both. She looks so overjoyed that she could just explode.

Instead, she pulls you in and— to your surprise— gives you a passionate kiss. Your eyes naturally close as you unthinkingly give into the sudden wave of emotion. She mutters something quiet and soft, her hooves pressing against your sides as her lips dance on yours. You can hardly think of anything better; Pinkie’s kiss seems like countless firecrackers of pleasure going off in your mouth. Finally, after a matter of seconds that felt like years, she pulls herself off of you and swings you over back onto her back.

“I’m… so happy too…” you mutter, still reeling. You glance down at your pink fingers, pink hands, pink clothes, pink legs, and every other part of you. The crazy magical concoction that you had gotten doused by on land feels pretty normal by now. You lock eyes with her as she flies on with her head turned back to gaze at you. “And, ah, Pinkie… uh…” You scramble for the right thing to say, this sort of stuff being far from your strong suit. But I wish that you hadn’t of had to turn me into ten percent pony or so and taken me a thousand feet or more into the atmosphere for us to get this far together, darn it! “Thanks.”

“Thank you, Snoopy,” she replies with a giggle before turning back around, aiming for the green, almost glowing hill far beneath you both. “Now, let’s head on down into Canterlot proper and see if we can get somepony to get you back to normal.” She tilts her head a bit and shifts her mane about, suppressing a huge set of laughs. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind you staying pink for quite a while, myself.”

A quick inner war goes off inside of your head given that you’d much rather be yourself on the outside rather than having skin that tastes like bubble-gum. But you hardly can push back at Pinkie— especially when whatever feelings you’ve forced deep down in yourself have boiled up with a vengeance. “We’ll, ah…” Ugh, think of something neutral to say. Honestly, feeling all tingly like a pink pony on the inside is kind of annoying— it’s almost like perpetual indigestion. Better to just be a ‘little’ pink. Just be evasive. “We’ll see how that goe—”

A shot abruptly ripples through you out of nowhere. You feel your backside start to twitch and wiggle almost like a dog that’s found a long-lost bone. Your body seems to fly up from some mysterious sensation coming off of Pinkie’s back and onto the top of your head. She lets out a gasp.

“Snoopy sense!” you cry out, although you don’t even know what that means. ‘Snoopy sense’?

“What in the hay is—” Pinkie begins, but she doesn’t finish. Her wings suddenly freeze and her tail sticks out with hairs on end as if it had gotten struck by lightning. “Pinkie sense!” She shoots you a confused look as you both involuntarily jitter in the air like wasps for a moment. “Hey! Your sense is faster?”

You can’t argue; you can only shrug. You look about in all directions, seeing nothing but clear skies with occasional fluffy clouds around you and the fancy concrete structures of Canterlot far below you. How the hell can I have a Pinkie-like ‘special sense’ if I’m human— unless something about being so exposed for so long changed me? Oh, gosh, this can get bad! Bad, bad, bad, bad!

Pinkie clutches you close once again, putting sort of a guard up as she faces to fly straight down. “Something’s about, but that’s fine.” She presses you against her chest with her tentacle-spread tail. “Let’s just go over and—”

“Going to kissy-goo-goo him again, you pink slut?” screams out a furious voice from far above you both. Your eyes fly skywards. “You already had to almost ruin him by turning him into a mirror image of you! But, oooh, I always knew that taking him in as an assistant baker was just a pretext! You’re just hiding him— poor Snoopy— all for yourself!”

Lyra, eyes almost paralyzed with rage as her nose and mouth contorts, hurls herself towards you. Thick black, bat-like wings that she’s gotten from goodness knows where beat with full force. Her horn glows brightly as you can see her hooves shift up and point in your direction.

“You’ll pay for your lies, Pinkie!” hollers Lyra. You don’t think you’ve seen this kind of rage from any pony in your entire life before.

Pinkie sails over to the right, getting completely out of the way, but Lyra’s wings seem so much more agile. The unicorn makes a brilliant set of aerial acrobatics as she cuts through clouds and heads directly for you. Pinkie lets out a loud whine as she turns to face Lyra.

You open your mouth to scream out something, but a thick bolt of some kind of magical lightening ripples out from Lyra’s hooves. It surges right through the air and cuts right across Pinkie’s tentacle-covered tail, causing her to yelp in both surprise and pain. Your eyes reflexively shut tight.

You feel overcome with the sensation of swirling wind. You blink, arms rubbing against your chest, and you suddenly come back to reality. You’re falling— totally separated from both mares as they duke it out above you— as Canterlot castle grows bigger and bigger in your vision.

“Eeeeeep,” you mutter, sounding more like a scared mouse than a human guy. You wave both arms and both legs helplessly. At least you have a nice view, your eyes taking in the huge array of fancy marble waterways leading into hanging gardens loaded with a kaleidoscope of pretty flowers and neatly-trimmed bushes. Grottos, pools, ponds, and other ornate bodies of water decorate all around castle superstructure.

An extremely tall flagpole pops up to your far right. You hear punching, kicking, and animal-like groaning above you, but you focus everything on grabbing the pole— littered with dozens of fluttering fabrics. Your fingers suddenly rip onto a thick red flag of some kind. In just a split-second, you swing your body to the side and grab onto it tightly.

“Whoa!” you hear directly above you, seeing a pink blog fly past you. You somehow manage to fling off like a pinball against the side of the machine— swinging off sideways instead of falling down. This all happens so fast, you can’t even begin to think, and you find yourself facing a solid wall of blueness.

You grimace, anticipating something painful. Instead, you feel something warm and leathery gripping your face, neck, and shoulders. Lyra makes some kind of battle cry of victory, her front hooves rubbing your hair as your hands and legs try to clutch her sweaty body. Better to be Lyra’s pet than a messy pink splotch on a royal wall!

“Don’t worry— I’m coming for you, Snoopy!” Pinkie shouts somewhere below you. You make a frustrated groan in reply, and Lyra tosses you about as she zig-zags through the air. You can make out Pinkie in hot pursuit just behind you. Yet you can hardly make sense of your location, the various white walls and white columns of the castle surroundings all blending into each other like some kind of obstacle course.

“Hey, please just—” you begin, panting hard as both mares make loop-de-loops around a gigantic royal grotto a few stories above ground, “Just let me—” Pinkie smacks into Lyra’s side, driving her into a batch of dark green shrubberies on an aerial garden. You grab off to the side, but your fingers just come across thin air.

Airborne once again, you see something that looks both huge and— thank goodness— soft directly below you. Lyra and Pinkie pummel each other around you. Leathery wings smack into insect wings. Pink hooves slash upon teal hooves. All the while, you brace your hands and feet in front of you like a cat as you fall onto a big brown tent. Lyra bucks into Pinkie’s side, and you see the pissed-off earth pony careening sideways towards you.

*Splash*

You wiggle from head to toe, blowing air out of your mouth and nose. The whole world seems to be underwater. What the hell is this! What the hell is going on! You kick your legs, feeling yourself wading deep in refreshing, cleansing water, and loud noises burst out above you. Your fingers grab onto something cold and hard to your right, and you thrust your body upwards.

All you can see is something huge and dark blue. You suck in a gigantic breath through your nose and squirt the water out of your mouth before leaning back. You feel so overwhelmed— you might as well collapse.

The huge, dark blue thing turns around. You blink, and you gaze upwards. The beautiful looking mare, halfway slid into the bubbling water, appears bigger than a human being— the first pony you’ve seen like that. Your eyes travel from her immense, fluffy wings along her smooth sides over to her shimmering blue mane and over to her smiling face. “Great-googly-moogly,” you mutter. “It’s Princess Luna.” You feel totally embarrassed at having spat a big glob of water onto her back. “I mean— you’re Princess Luna!”

“Fair thee well, then, as one needth commit to a pronounced entrance if one plans to maketh,” she says in a Victorian-era cadence before stopping mid-sentence. Fortunately, she looks more amused than anything. You glance all around, and you realize that you both are slumped in the middle of a rather deep hot tub— the warm water clearly filled with various enchantments— inside of a cozy tent. You make out clear white tiles lying about around the tub itself as well as a human-sized hole punched into the tent ceiling above you, looking like something out of Looney Tunes.

“Princess,” you mutter, rubbing your face with both hands. It takes a second to hit you, but— when it does— you make a half jump to the side in surprise. Oh, wow! I’m back to normal! Your skin has the same peachy tone and your clothes the same plain colors as back before the unfortunately cooking-ware events. Has to be all of this royal water stuff…

“You may call me ‘Luna’,” she says, smiling as she shifts over to normal speech. “And, as I was saying, that was one interesting entrance.” She causes you to blush profusely, and she suppresses a laugh, her glorious wane wiggling about. “I was actually feeling a bit lonely in this tub since my guest is running late and the guards aren’t here to accompany me as usual. So, I can forgive the clearly accidental trespassing.” She slinks a bit out of the tub and rests against the counter away from you. “You may even stay for a bit. But it should go without saying, of course, that this is not an invitation to any funny stuff.” She lets out a small sigh as she nudges her head upon her hooves.

“Okay,” you say. This is real-life, not a porno. At any rate, I’m just glad that you didn’t summon the guards to smash my head like a watermelon with his hooves. You turn your eyes skywards, and you spy pink and teal colors flashing in combat through the human-sized tent hole. “Hey, ah, I need your help with something, your majesty.” She doesn’t stir in the slightest— looking totally relaxed with body half in the water and the rest of her leaning on her own hooves. “There’s this mare named Pinki—”

*Sploosh!*

Water flies up all around you. Blinking rapidly, you pick yourself totally out of the tub. You finally make out both Lyra and Pinkie Pie, sitting in the middle of the water with confused looks on their faces. In just a split-second, their wings start to dissolve. Both mares ignore each other as they spin around like ferrets, trying to make sense of it. Princess Luna, for her part, stays mostly in place but makes a deeply amused smile, her eyes peeking over at the scene on the other side of the tub.

“No more wings!” Pinkie bursts out. Lyra just lets out a defeated groan, sinking down into the water. Pinkie’s eyes turn to you, already in the middle of folding your arms together. “But— but— the spell! It’s foolproof, right?”

“One weakness,” you repeat, calling back to Twilight’s words. Pinkie simply blinks— an empty expression on her face. Lyra has sunk almost entirely into the water with just her angry eyes, nose, and horn sticking out. She looks primed to strangle Pinkie when the right moment comes.

“Salts!” Luna suddenly interjects. You and the mares stare over at her still smug expression. “If you’re using Gromm’s Fifth Revision with the third level combat magical enhancements, then too much salt will always muck up your spell. That’s why the royal guards’ earth pony division doesn’t get soup in their mess halls. Bath salts, well, that goes without saying.”

She’s a freaking princess. Obviously, she knows what she’s talking about. You begin, “Princess, I—”

“That— that— pink hussy!” Lyra hollers all of a sudden, still staying mostly underneath the water but pointing her exposed horn over at Pinkie. “She’s stealing my man! It’s wrong, Princess!”

“Hey!” Pinkie retorts, looking totally flush.

“She needs to be punished,” Lyra continues on. She lets out a torrent of bubbles and slowly moves under the surface, her horn reminding you of the exposed fin from Jaws as she makes her way to Pinkie.

“Well?” Luna calmly asks.

You’re more than had enough. “Well, if you’d excuse me, Princess,” you say, sliding upwards out of the tub, “my Pinkie and I will need to be going.” You put your hand on her shoulder as a smile breaks out from cheek from cheek.

Lyra freezes in the middle of the tub. She lets out a pained, sad groan and pops a bit out of the water, scrunching her face tightly. You hold Pinkie close as you don’t even look back at Lyra, although you desperately glance around for a towel with both of you hopelessly soaked. Maybe there’s something right outside? Somepony that’s the ‘towel mare’?

Your eyes move over to the half open flap entrance to the tent. Oh, well, let’s just get the hay out of here. Yet, looking back, you see Luna raising a hoof and waving. You wave back, but you immediately stop as you see Luna picking herself up and looking out around you both— still waving. Ahh…

“Hey, so we’ve got more visitors here after all,” says a young, light voice from outside the tent— a handsome man’s face sticking out of the tent flap. You and Pinkie halt in your tracks as a short human with a shocking blond tuft of hair, a skinny frame, and thick yellow swimming trunks on slides in through the entrance. “Great.” He sort of reminds you of those obnoxious ‘twinks’ that your gay friends were always bitching on about back on Earth— although he seems nice-ish, especially with his pretty smile.

You idly stick out a hand. “I’m Snoopy.”

“Woodstock,” he replies. He slides his head a bit to the side, and he tries his best not to burst out in giggles.

Before you can let out another word, you hear a whacking sound as air shoots up around you. You glance down and see Lyra, popped out of the water with her eyes as big as dinner plates, clutching onto Woodstock’s left leg and left side. She pants loudly, her wet mane sloshing against her body.

“Uh, hi,” she gurgles, looking straight up at his face as she blushes. Woodstock just takes in a breath and puts on a flat, emotionless expression. You don’t wait; you wave goodbye to everyone and pop right out of the tent.

“Goodbye,” you hear Luna remark.

“Ah, goodbye to you too,” you hear Woodstock mutter. You see, off on the corner of your eyes, him sliding his body to the side of the hot tub tiles with Lyra still stuck onto him like a barnacle on a ship.

“Snoopy,” Pinkie says, brushing up against your right leg as you stop and look out at the massive set of doors, windows, and everything else atop Canterlot castle. “I’m very happy that you think of me as ‘my Pinkie’.” She rubs a hoof against your foot and makes a pleasant sigh.

“Sure,” you reply. And, thank freaking goodness, I’m not like a clone of her anymore. You wiggle all of your toes and fingers about. Pink, pink, pink— I guess that all washed away with the magical waters. No after effects of being all bathed by her stuff, inside or out. You try to force the ‘but isn’t magic not supposed to work on humans in the first place’ question out of your mind. And now, being 100% human and 0% Pinkie once again, I can just get ready to head back to Ponyville and get on to my lif—

“Sense!” you and Pinkie scream out, both of your bodies tingling and legs twitching. Pinkie leaps up into the air and hops into your arms, making you let out an ‘urk’ as you stagger a bit carrying her. She gives you an excited look while you just sense the emotion draining from your face.

“Alright,” you whisper, barely hearing your own voice. “So, life in Ponyville will now become a lot more— well— interesting.”

The End