Fanfic tennis - Cupcakes

  Pinkamena sharpened the thin, shimmering blade, while humming a little tune to herself. The small contraption she had designed was of a kick pedal nature, a small grindstone was connected to it, meaning that when you pushed down on the pedal hard enough it would cause the stone to turn, automatically fixing even the most dulled of tools. As the pony finished, she got off of the small stool which she had sat upon, walking up to an average-sized jar.

“Number three-hundred ninety-seven,” she said aloud as an excited look formed on her face. Pinkamena had always thought of what this would be like, and now she could find out first-hand! The pony grabbed the surgical scalpel from a small, blood covered table and dropped it next to the grindstone. She took a towel and rubbed the crimson liquid off of the valuable equipment, then began to sharpen it.

“This is gonna be fun!” Pinkamena was bursting with excitement now. After looking at the clock she discovered she still had an hour or two, so she brought out an old friend, expertly stitched back together after her number was picked.

“What’s that Dashie? You’re hungry?” The pink pony imitated her friend’s voice, which was hard to do, considering how long it had been since she last spoke. The pink Earth-pony took a small tray out of a nearby drawer, placing it down on a clean table before opening it.

“I forgot how cool these looked!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she pulled out Rainbow Dash’s cutie marks. After examining them for a moment a great idea struck her. A needle along with a small spool of yarn was produced as she began work on a new piece of clothing.

    “Scootaloo!” Applebloom called as she found her target. The pegasus didn’t look up, instead she turned away. Scootaloo hadn’t been the same since Rainbow Dash disappeared, and although she had suggested foul- play be at hand no one believed her. Why, nopony had killed another for over a thousand years! Applebloom noticed Scootaloo was holding a switchblade in her left hoof, and that a steady stream of blood was trickling from a self-produced cut in her leg.

“Scootaloo you’re… you’re bleeding.” Applebloom said in terror.

“Your point being?” Rainbow Dash was the only family Scootaloo had, so when she had disappeared it permanently damaged Scootaloo’s social and emotional life. Leaving a disastrous toll on the fragile pegasus. The thing about the damaged pegasus was that she never learned how to use her wings, only using them to perform menial tasks, such as speeding her up while her scooter was in use.

“That’s not healthy,” Applebloom pleaded that Scootaloo stop while the pegasus continued to look at the knife, stopping only as she stood up.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the pegasus dropped the blood drenched knife and walked away, attempting to fly, but dropping a few feet away. Applebloom began to cry once Scootaloo was far enough away. Why was Scootaloo doing this to herself? Why couldn’t she help her friend? Applebloom sat there, alone, wondering why she was so weak.

    “You know Dashie, it’s been awhile since I’ve had a chance to work with a friend. The last time didn’t go so well, but I bet this time will!” Pinkie Pie sipped at the drink for a moment, then grimaced.

“Yuck! Bad coffee,” the pony began to laugh while talking.

“Oh you’re so silly!” she patted Rainbow Dash’s head for a moment and then got up. A chance to work with a friend, not something that happens a lot, and even though the last time didn’t go like she hoped, Pinkie Pie hoped this time would be better. The pony whose number she drew, she hoped, would stick around for awhile. But first, a few cupcakes would be needed ahead of time. Pinkie reached back into the jar, pulling out another piece of paper.

  “Alright Pinkie Pie, I’ll come around to your house in a bit, but I need to do something right now,” the mare replied as she was graciously invited to a party.

“Okey-dokey!” Pinkie Pie replied as she hopped away, thinking of the fun she could have with her friend. “Praden is gonna be so good!” she said to herself after she arrived back at home. Within a few minutes the butcher was back in her workshop, sharpening the knife she used for making slits into the-