I Found A Pinkie At A Party

The first thing I noticed right away was the hair. It was unique, not to mention tasty-looking. Why, you might ask? It reminded me of cotton candy: swirly, curly, puffy, and very, very pink.

The second thing I noticed was the face of this girl who just saved me from hurting verbal abuse. This face wasn't just a normal face which you would find in teenagers today. Most teenagers today have a face that show normality or the usual teenage nega-emotional trips. This girl's face, which, too, was pink, but lighter, did not show that one bit. Instead, hers just shouted, to me, at least, happiness, joy, caring, anything that symbolized those words.

Next thing that caught my eye was the body. Call me a perv now, but let me describe what I saw, at least. Her clothing comprised of brightness. A bright-sky blue sweater covered her white shirt, which had a pink heart emblazoned on the front. She had on a bright purple skirt which had the picture of blue and yellow balloons on the side, with a dark-purple bow tied above it, at or just above her waist. Her boots were the same color as the skirt, and nearly reached to her knees. Everywhere and everything on this girl just screamed with bright colors and joy. In that split second I made these observations, I realized one thing: this girl was adorable. Why she would want to help me from bullies confused me.

At that point, I was snapped back to reality by that same voice which put me in awe.

"Helloooo, anyone there, silly?" she said. I looked straight at her eyes. Her eyes were like sapphires, Pretty, pretty sapphires. I quickly looked back away.

"My name's Pinkie Pie," she exclaimed, trying to look directly at my face, with me keeping my eyes away. "What's yours?"

Uh oh, I thought. She asked me for my name. Did someone as cute as her really want my name? Could I do it and talk? Could I put up or shut up?

"A-a-a...Artemis."

"Artemis?" she asked, that familiar look of confusion on her face.

Nice job, doofus, I thought to myself. You said your dorky full name. "B-b-but people, or at l-least me, they c-c-call me A-a-artie."

The confusion held only for a second. Then, immediately, her face shot up with happiness. "Oh, Artie! That's a nice name! Although," she paused, "I think Artemis is good, too."

That caused me to bulge in eyes in surprise. I always thought that nobody would like my actual name, due to it sounding like the name of a really old and lame author whose books are forced to be read in class.

"Of course, Art would be good, too. Do you think?" She gasped. "Maybe Art Smart? or Smart Art? or maybe Art Fart?" She immediately gasped again and starting giggling and snorting. "Ha! Art Fart! Almost as good as Black Snootie! Ha ha......" Glad to see I got her laughing, though not in the way I imagined.

"Anyway, Art, real sorry about those two. They can be real meanies." No offense, but yeah, I kinda noticed. "Maybe I can make it up to you!"

She immediately grabbed my hand, which put me in shock and ecstasy, and dragged me to a staircase, where she led me up. Once up there, she turned in the direction of a bedroom. I started to sweat. Boy, this girl was quick with the relationships. But then, she told me to wait outside the room, and went inside.

A few minutes went by, and then she dragged me in and in front of a mirror. She started taking my tie off, and I started feeling weird in my stomach. But then, she put on a different one that was a bright-color yellow. I was beguiled, and confused, but relieved she wasn't doing anything hasty to a guy she just met. Who would want to do it with me, anyhow?

"I think this will definitely make up for what happened. Plus, you now look so much better. Or, as my friend Rarity calls it, 'chic'."

My attention was brought to light when she said that. She knows Rarity, too. Why didn't Rarity ever tell me she had a friend more adorable than her?

Oh yeah. Cause she doesn't talk to me, and vice versa. Guess I only have my dork self to blame.

Although, back to reality, Pinkie was right. This bowtie was better looking. "I think yellow is so much more happier for a party than a black bowtie, don'tcha think? After all, black stands for the scary nighttime! Scary isn't happy. It's the opposite!" Pinkie rambled. "Well, I hope you like it! Enjoy my party!"

Then, just like that, she dashed out, going to the dancing parade of partying downstairs.

This was her party? If that is so, then that meant she invited me. Me. But why?

Maybe I could ask her. If I did that, though, she might question me, and think I didn't want to be invited, or, even worse, think weird or stupid of me.

It hit me, then. I needed to ask someone who knew her. And thankfully, I now knew someone who did.