What have I always told you?
“Fwip Fwip”
“Fwip Fwip”
“Fwip Fwip”
Slowly, I lowered my book just enough to glance over the pages at the pony sitting on the living room floor. She was sitting there calmly, still coloring the same page I saw her coloring not five minutes ago.
Everything seemed normal. Both her pink hooves were crossed in a comfortable pose, her eyes fixed upon the masterpiece while her mouth moved the crayon to her will. The sunlight from our small window bounced off her curled mane. Nothing was different, and the noise had stopped.
Letting out a small sigh, I lifted the book up again and scanned for the last sentence I read. No sooner did I find it, than I heard it again.
“Fwip Fwip”
I groaned. Laying the book on my lap, I asked, “Pinkie Pie, did you hear that annoying sound?”
She looked up, as I expected, with a confused expression.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said innocently.
I wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe her, but there was no proof that she was lying otherwise. I shrugged and, as if on cue, she went back to coloring her picture in a saintly fashion. I stared at her a minute more; my eyes never left her as I once again lifted up my book.Pretending to read, I waited suspensefully for the sound.
“Fwip Fwip”
“Fwip Fw-”
“AHA!” I screamed, slamming the book down and pointing at the culprit. She stared at me, wide eyed and open mouthed. Her hind leg hung in the air with the hoof resting behind her ear.
Cautiously, she set her hoof down and asked, “What?”
“You are the one making that noise!”
“What noise?”
“You know… the noise that you made when your hoof did that… thingy.”
She cocked her head. “You mean this?” Her hind leg rose up and brushed the back of her ear with her hoof. Again it made that same, irritating sound.
“Yes, that. Can you stop doing that?” I asked.
She pouted. ”But… it itches. This is how a pony is supposed to scratch, you know.”
Of course I knew. I’ve lived with a pony for two years now. I read all there is to know about their species. What I never knew about scratching was that it made such a distracting sound, especially when trying to read.
I crossed my arms and said, “Yes, Pinkie, I know. That noise however is very… distracting. Look, maybe you- oh come on! I know it itches, but do you have to scratch while I’m talking?”
“I… I can’t help it. It really really itches… it won’t stop itching!!!” She gritted her teeth and continued scratching vigorously.
“That’s odd,” I thought. “Maybe it’s more than a regular itch.”
”Maybe there’s something wrong with your ear. Come over here and I’ll have a look at it.” I said out loud.
She stopped scratching and stood up, but kept jerking her head to the right until she reached me. Tilting her ear towards me, I grabbed it to keep it from twitching. She looked uncomfortable, but stayed silent and patiently waited for me to help her.
Bending over, I looked into her fuzzy, pink ear. I looked behind it, but it was squeaky clean and unharmed. However, the inside was a different story. Though it was a bit dark, I could see something was in there. Silently I prayed it wasn’t a spider as I reached in to grab it.
It was attached tightly and I was afraid to pull to hard for fear of hurting Pinkie, but with a little prying it came off into my hand. I sighed in relief as I saw it wasn’t an arachnid. Instead, it was a tiny flea, or tick. I wasn’t quite sure which since it was half squashed and dead in my palm.
“What? What is it?” She asked concerned.
Throwing the insect into a trash can nearby, I said, “Oh, it was just a flea or something that was biting you, making you itch. It’s gone now, I got it out.”
I could feel her tenseness melt away in relief when I said that.
“Thanks,” she said, trying to pull away.
I stopped her. Holding onto her ear and peering inside, I said, ”Pinkie… do you ever clean inside your ears like I tell you?”
She said nothing at first, then mumbled, “Maybe.”
The real answer was no. In a stern tone I said, “Pinkamena Diane Pie.”
“All right,” she sighed, “I don’t… I can’t seem to make the… what’s it called?... oh yeah! The cue tip, I can never get it to work. It was made for hands, not hooves.”
I can see where she was coming from, but it was no excuse for disobeying me. It looked like a jungle encased in tree sap in there.
Sighing, I said, “Well, if that’s the case, why didn’t you just tell me? I can help. Here.”
Letting go over her ear, I gently pushed her away and stood up. Walking into the bathroom, I spied the familiar jar holding my life supply of cue tips. Taking one out, I went back into the living room and sat down on the couch.
Pinkie looked confused until she saw the cue tip, but to make sure her assumption was right, she asked, “Are going to clean my ears?”
I nodded and smiled, patting my lap as a sign for her to jump on.
She looked at me as if I was crazy, but seeing I was actually serious about doing it, she laughed and trotted up to me. Climbing on to the couch cushion next to me, she laid her body flat on my legs. She turned on her left side, with her right ear waiting to be cleaned.
Taking the tip, I went as far as was safe and began to swish it around.
“T-that tickles!” she giggled, jolting her ear around. I had to abort the mission until the moving stopped.
“Hold still now,” I commanded. I had to lay my hand on her rump to keep her still. It felt so warm and fuzzy, one of the great benefits of having a pony as a friend. Once she had control of herself, I stuck it back inside her ear, careful not to brush the sides so much while still getting it clean. Aside from a few interruptions, it was no time before it was clean inside and out.
“Turn over so I can do the other,” I said and she obeyed. It was just as dirty, maybe more, as the other ear. Turning the stick around, I used the clean side to un-clog all the dirt. By the time I was done, the end of the swab looked like puke, which in turn made me want to puke.
She turned on her back and we both stared at the swab.
Scrunching up her nose, she said, ”That was in my ear!?”
I nodded.
“Yuck,” she said.
“Indeed. Promise to, next time when I tell you to clean your ears, come and tell me so I can do it for you? It least until you get the hang of it,” I asked.
She giggled and nodded. “Pinkie Promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” she said, performing the sacred ritual.
“Good,” I said. Looking down at her, I couldn’t deny she looked absolutely adorable in that position, with her belly vulnerable to cuddle attacks.
One cannot simply pass up a chance to do that to a pony, now can they? Surely it couldn't hurt to play with her for a while, right?
Decided, I bent close to her and said, “Looks like you’ve got something on your belly.”
She tilted her head. “I do?” she asked.
“Yep...looks like a….” I started before diving in lips first into her soft fur and letting out a blast of air. Not only did the action cause her to giggle, but the fart-like sound cracked her up.
“...A raspberry!“ I proclaimed. “And… look, there’s more!” I dove in again and despite her efforts to block the target, my raspberry prevailed in another fit of giggles. Again and again I did it, while she squirmed and laughed until tears came out of her eyes.
“S--stophaha..it..ha..it.ha..I can’t..hahahah...I can’t breathe-tehehe!!” she pleaded.
I stopped and smirked. “Too much? Would it help if I called in the tickle patrol!?”
I ruffled the fur around her stomach and arms as I tickled her. She tried getting away, but each time I shoed away the hooves effortlessly. Her escape plan was to turn on her back, blocking the belly area. But it only revealed a new place to unleash my tickling skills.
Her neck and ears now visible, I attacked with a full squad of tickling. Seeing as I was not stopping any time soon, she raised her hoof and said weakly, “I-I… surrender. I surrender. You win… no-now tell the tickle squad to stop…”
I stared furiously at my hands and said, “You heard the mare, you are to cease all contact immediately. NOW THAT’S AN ORDER.”
We both looked at each other, then burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at our silliness.
Slowly, our shaky breaths returned to normal and we both let out a sigh.
“All right,” I said, “get your rump off of me.”
She started getting up, but instead stopped and looked up at me with an innocent face. “Can I clean YOUR ears?” she asked.
I know I looked like an idiot who just got punched in the face, but her question startled me so I didn’t know how to respond. It took a few seconds to gather my thoughts before I said, “But… you can’t even clean your own. How would you clean mine?”
Without a second thought she said matter-of-factly, “That’s when I try to clean MY ear. It’s hard for me to reach it, much less see inside of it. But I can reach and see yours. It’s just like when you first taught me how to braid. I couldn’t do my own mane until I tried it out on yours.”
“And we all know how that turned out. Because of that I had five knots in my hair that I had to cut out. It looked like I was so cheap for a salonist that I would try to cut my own hair!” I screamed.
She cocked her head. “ But… you did cut your own hair.”
“That’s beside the point,” I huffed. “The point is, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to trust you sticking a cue tip in my ear!”
“Pllleeeaaassseee!!! Pretty please with a cherry on top!?” she said in her whiny voice.
As long as she didn’t- oh, there they are. Those big… round.. .pitiful… pony puppy eyes. I couldn't look away, much less ignore their desperate plea.
I couldn’t hold much longer and, sighing at myself for doing this and in defeat of those winning eyes, I said, “Fine, Pinkie. Just… be very gentle. Oh! and don’t press too hard, otherwise it will hurt.”
“All right, thanks so much, Ana! You won’t regret it,” she said, galloping away for the item she needed.
Inwardly I was already starting too, but the deed was done and there was no, I repeat NO getting out of it. I sat there, anxiously awaiting my fate, sweat dripping as the minutes turned into hours. Or at least that’s what it felt like. As Pinkie Pie entered the room, the swab in her insanely grinning mouth, I questioned how much a trip to the hospital would actually cost.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye climb up to my side and sit down.
“Well, I can’t get to your ear if you’re looking at me!” she giggled.
Realizing my position, I chuckled sheepishly and turned around.
She laid one of her smooth hooves on my cheek and peered into my ear. She clucked her tongue in an amusing fashion.
“Sooo much… ew… gunky stuff in your ear. Do you EVER clean your ears?”
Although I know she couldn’t see it, I raised my eyebrow.
“I clean my ears very well, thank you. Just… get what you can see and be careful,” I warned.
“Yeah yeah, I know. I’ll be careful.”
I winced at her voice, which when very close to my ear, sounded like a scream.
Instinctively, I put my hand up to my ear. “Can you keep it down a little?” I said gruffly.
“Don’t act like a baby. Sheesh, you’re worse than I was.” She shooed my hand away and I had to grip it tightly to keep it from returning. I took a deep breath and braced myself.
Nothing happened. I couldn’t help but turn a little to see what was going on.
She seemed to be having trouble gripping the swab. It was so thin and smooth that she couldn’t grip it right with one hoof.
“Try using both hooves. For now it least,” I said.
She nodded and carried out my suggestion. “Much easier,” she said.
I nodded, facing forward again. I could feel her warm breath as she leaned in closely. I jumped as I felt the cue tip touch the side of my ear.
“Calm down, I haven’t even reached inside yet,” she said, annoyed.
Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to stay calm for her. Once she was satisfied with my behaviour, she went in again. This time I could feel it inside, and it DID
tickle. I had to bite my lip to stifle any laughter.
It felt like it was in there forever, but reality said otherwise. Eventually she stopped and pulled it out to my relief.
“There,” she said, “this side is squeaky clean! Now I can do the other side.”
Picking up my book, I let her crawl over me to the other side of the couch. Laying the book on the right side of me, I waited again for the furry feel of the cue tip in my ear. I didn’t have to wait long before she was already cleaning my left ear.
She went about her work, humming a little tune while she did, and kept her voice a little lower like I asked. I had noticed she was usually very gentle when she cleaned, but that changed as I felt one side being rubbed over and over again harshly.
“Ow! Why are you doing it so hard?” I asked, wincing a little.
“Sorry,” she said distractedly, “it's just… some stuff… it's stuck… it won’t come off!”
Now the tip was literally scraping the inside of my ear! I drew back and clasped my hand on the ear in pain.
“OW! What are you trying to do, clean my ear or clean my skin off!?!” I yelled.
She looked down, her ears pressed against her head. “I’m… I'm sorry. It wouldn’t come off. I was just trying to clean it.”
My expression softened immediately; I didn’t mean to make her upset. “It’s all right,” I assured her. ”It’s fine. Thank you for trying, Pinkie, but if you can’t get it on the third try, just leave it. It’s probably nothing.”
“Do… do you still want me to clean your ear?” she whimpered.
I nodded. “Yes, just be gentle, okay?”
“Okay!” she said, going back to being her happy self. One of the strong qualities of Pinkie was her ability to change her moods like lightning.
She was so much gentler this time that I could barely even tell the cue tip as in there! Of course, she didn’t need to go in as far this time as there was only a little bit left to clean.
Before I knew it, the tip was gone and I heard Pinkie sigh and say, “All right, all done.”
I was about to turn to her and thank her, when I heard her say, “Oh wait, I missed a spot.”
“What? Where?” I asked.
There is a saying that says, “an eye for an eye”. Pinkie may not have been familiar with it, but she knew what revenge was. Seeing as I was vulnerable and off guard, she took she chance to take her revenge.
Before I knew it, her soft, pink tongue was all up in my face. Not only was it was squishy and slimy, but it tickled. Boy did it tickle. Laughing, I said, “P-Pinkie... hahah... stop it!”
However, she and her devious tongue had other ideas. I stopped laughing in relief that my face was no longer being attacked by the vicious monster, only to have my neck undergo the same torture that my face had endured. Only, it was much worse. My neck was my tickle spot.
I couldn’t contain my laughter, much less breath, it felt so funny. Weakly, I tried pushing her away, but she just kept coming back, licking and licking. Even my chin wasn’t spared her wrath. I had no strength left to fight back, but I had to escape or I would be finished.
Letting my upper body go limp, I fell on my back to the right side of me in hopes of avoiding any more licks. Not only did she just fall with me and her tickles with her, I also was never in a more helpless pose than before. To make matters worse, I had fallen upon my book and it hit right in the spine.
“OW!” I yelled in reaction to it.
She stopped her licking and asked, “Oh goodness, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”
“A miracle in disguise...and a painful disguise,” I thought.
Grimacing in pain, I said to her, ”No, it's not you.”
Reaching under me, I grabbed the book and jerked it out into plain sight. Holding it in front of her I said, “It was The Tale of Despereaux that fell me.”
An idea struck me just then. Casting the book away, I laid my hand on my forehead in despair and said dramatically, “Yes, this treasured book has led to our demise. We are quickly fading, dear maiden. Bear with us as we breathe our final words…”
She evidently caught on and clasped her hand in mine in a fashion fitting the scene and, with her face ridden with sadness, said, “Woe is us. Our only friend perishing at the dreaded pages of literature. We curse all known books! This can not be thy end, we shall not allow it.”
She was very good at acting. The desperate tone in her voice almost sounded genuine. I looked up into her eyes, letting a sad, small smile form on my face.
“There is nothing that thou can do for us now. It was a deadly blow and there is no healing for the damage has been done upon us.”
She let a few tears squeeze from her eyes, whether out of contained laughter or really good acting, I wasn’t sure.
I lifted one hand to her cheek and gently stroked it. “Do not weep for us. Thou shalt live a long life after we are gone. Enjoy it, live life the fullest and don’t forget, at all costs never forget, that the cheese will be with you.”
“I *sniff* I won’t,“ she said while stifling a laugh.
I nodded. Deciding it was time to end the show, my eyes widened and I pretended to grasp for air. Struggling, I said, “P-Pinkie….*cough cough*”
“I’m here!” she said desperately.
“Pinkie….I *cough cough*...I..love... I... love y-you.” No sooner did the words leave my lips, than my eyes closed in fake death. I let my hand dramatically fall from her cheek and limply hang to my side. I tried slowly breathing to make it look more realistic.
I could feel her sitting heavily on me, not moving an inch. I figured she was probably curious as to what would happen next. Then I heard something. It sounded like a suppressed snicker. I waited, thinking I should probably open my eyes soon, when suddenly I felt her hoof press slightly on my nose.
“Boop,” she said.
That was my cue. I opened my eyes and startled her by laughing maniacally. She giggled in terror and giddiness as I rose up like a frankenstein, yelling loudly, “I’M ALIVE!!!!”
Jumping back, she tried to get away but I was too quick. Swooping her up in my claws, I held her high and helpless. She kicked around, but seeing it was fruitless, she stopped and looked down at me with a blank expression.
Slowly I lowered her down until we were nose to nose. I leaned my head forward a little and my nose slightly pressed against her muzzle. Pulling back I said,
“Boop.”
That was the last straw. We both erupted into another fit of laughter as I set her down on my stomach. We laughed in pure hysteria until our stomachs ached. Wiping away my tears, I said, “Al-All right now. I think that’s enough. You have a picture to draw and I have a book to read, so let's get it done before it's time for dinner. Anon will kill me if I don’t make it before he gets home.”
She nodded her head. “Yeah, I get it. Hey! Can I help with dinner tonight?” she asked, her eyes going big again.
This time I had no reason for rejecting. Pinkie Pie was a very good baker and knew her way around a kitchen.
“No problem, Pinks. You can help shred and cook the carrots. Is that okay?” I asked.
“Okie dokie lokie then! Thanks, Ana,” she said, smiling.
Sliding off the couch, she trotted over to her picture. She sat down and began to color again while I reached out for my book and with some effort finally grabbed it. It was a bit messed up, but not that bad. Opening up to my page, I scanned once again for my place. I sighed and began to read where I left off.
“Fwip, Fwip”
Celestia help me.
