Pumpkincake looked at the strange thing peering into his crib. He burbled questioningly, then the thing pulled out one of those grown-up toys Aunt Pinkie loves playing with. Pumpkin didn't know what was going on, but the thing was just smiling, but the smile was so super-big. Aunt Pinkie would love to see that smile, Pumpkincake thought.
–-
Jeff still had no idea when he made the transition into this realm, but the many places and things he had seen since he first sold his soul to that feeling made this seem like another stone on the path. What's more, the feeling had brought him to this house. He played with his knife, leaning over the crib of what was supposedly a baby unicorn, and debated if killing it would bring the same satisfaction that killing a human did. Oddly enough, the creature seemed intrigued with his knife, rather than afraid of it. It would be a new first, if nothing else, killing a unicorn. The horn lit up for a moment, and Jeff jumped back from the crib, landing soundlessly on his feet, a skill that developed naturally when he was about thirteen kills deep, and pointed his knife at the baby. When nothing happened, Jeff approached again.
“Making me jump is an accomplishment, you little brat,” Jeff whispered. He lifted his knife. “Just for that, I'll help you go to sleep.” His knife slid through the air and into the mattress. Jeff was confused. He couldn't have missed anything, he no longer had the ability to blink. He looked about the room, and saw the unicorn in the arms of a cotton-candy pony. Jeff took his fighting stance, but the pony lifted a hoof to signal him to wait. It was completely unfazed by his appearance and the fact that he had just attempted to kill the unicorn it was somehow holding. The feeling grew even more intense, and he could hear the voice demanding that thing's blood, but that was odd. The voice had precisely called it a thing, not a pony or person. Jeff was so curious he posed more naturally, though he still stood ready, should this be a trap.
The pony deposited the unicorn into another crib. It had another occupant which stirred, but didn't rise from, its sleep. The pink pony sang a lullaby to the effect of “giggling at ghosties” and the foal fell into a heavy sleep. The voice suggested an obviously female owner. Jeff had grown impatient, but the thing walked to the door and made a “follow me” gesture. The feeling ugred him on, so he followed. Somehow, this horse would be helped to sleep tonight.
Following her bouncing mane through the hallway, Jeff ran a hand through his charred hair in anticipation. He followed the pony to a surprisingly well-equipped kitchen, and waited for something to happen. The pony turned around and greeted him, “Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie! I think it's sooooo cool that you have such a huge smile!”
Was this thing taunting him? Jeff still hadn't learned the natural laws of this world, but it shouldn't make meetings like this so casual. He would have blinked in surprise, if he'd had eyelids. He decided to play along for now, “Thank you, it's so beautiful I made it permanent, then burned away my eyelids so I would never have to stop looking at it.”
Pinkie Pie nodded as if this made all the sense in the world. “That takes dedication, but smiles are only special if you share them.”
Jeff managed to widen his smile, “Would you care to have one?” He lifted his knife, and took the other out of his coat pocket.
Pinkie Pie smiled, “Sure, but first I have to share my way of spreading smiles with you!” She pulled open a drawer, and the feeling grew almost blindingly intense. “What was your name?”
“Jeff,” Jeff was going to lose it soon, on the only one that ever complemented his beautiful smile. He would have to make her demise the most fantastic so far. Pinkie turned her head toward Jeff with a smile he knew promised a fun time.
“Tell me, Jeff,” Pinkie began, her hair fell limp, and Jeff dropped into his fighting stance, “Do you like cupcakes?”
Pinkie's hooves emerged from the drawer with an eggbeater and steel spatula full of holes. She immediately lunged at Jeff, but Jeff stopped both with one knife. He readied the other to strike as she fell, but she didn't. She instead flipped her body and stood on the ceiling, defying all of Jeff's experience. The voice again demanded this thing die. Jeff tried to strike, but his blade was intercepted by the egg-beater. Pinkie threw the spatula, but Jeff's free knife caught one of the holes. Jeff leaped back to gain some distance before shouting at his gravity-defying combatant, “I'm disappointed! You should never throw your weapons! I thought I was dealing with something worthwhile!”
Pinkie drop-flipped to the floor and ran a hoof through her mane. Jeff readied to charge again, but stopped when he noticed a large fork appear in that hoof. “Don't you know how rude it is to underestimate the host of your party?” Pinkie giggled like she had just told a new joke.
“What the fuck are you?” Jeff demanded. He ran toward Pinkie, feinting left, then going right. One of his knives was caught in the egg-beater again, but the other barely scraped her hoof before finding the fork jammed into the respective hand.
Pinkie pulled Jeff close and demonic eyes met those of a fallen angel. Pinkie stated in a sharp tone, “I am Pinkamena Diane Pie, the element of laughter, and I am the only pony allowed to kill here.”
Jeff freed himself at the expense of some blood, and laughed the same laugh he'd used the moment he carved his smile into his face. He lunged again, but Pinkamena was suddenly beneath him, and bucked him through the kitchen window. Most of the glass stayed in Jeff's back after the impact, but the feeling was so overwhelming that it no longer allowed pain to intervene. The pink killer flew out after him, but he had caught himself, and turned to land slashes across her forearms as she flew over him.
They turned to face each other, neither fazed in the least by the damages thus far, and Jeff laughed again, “Then your record's safe. I'm no pony.” Jeff was beginning to lose himself to the feeling: loosening his binds on the physical limitations of the human body. He leaped into his adversary, and his ears popped. The pony had grabbed him in what could have been a hug, if it weren't topped off with the fork in his shoulder and his knife in her back. His other knife tried to strike her head, but his arm seemed to vanish into nothing upon contact with her mane. It was like a pocket dimension. He jerked out his arm, and looked to the side, to reevaluate his surroundings. Then he learned why his ears had popped. The pink freak was carrying him into the sky, somehow using her back legs to walk vertically. Jeff looked back at his opponent and saw the daring look in her eyes. Suddenly, the air rushed by, and Jeff knew they were falling. Jeff removed his knife from her back, and tried to stab her stomach on both sides, but the coral competitor had broken their bond and pushed herself away from him.
When the ground was ready for the coming date with their faces, it was stood up on both ends. Pinkamena slowed her fall, because physics was nothing more than her favorite joke. Jeff landed on his feet without a sound, as he had transcended into the demonic state he had felt on only a few occasions. It seemed that these two had struck fear into the universe at large at their respective times.
Jeff the Killer and Pinkamena Diane Pie locked eyes. Their respective blood-lust each trying to overpower the other. Pinkamena discarded her current utensils, and pulled out an old favorite. She brandished the hacksaw and rose to her back legs. Jeff popped his elbows out of place, preparing himself to be flexible. Jeff struck first.
Pinkamena stared down the whirlwind of blades dancing toward her. Her deflated hair flapped behind her, like a silk flag spun from coral. All at once, Pinkamena was within the cyclone. Jeff was everywhere at once, and she struck out at the swirling mass, but received a cut instead of delivering one. Jeff laughed, the voice echoed about in a cynical act of ventriloquy, but there would be none to hide laughter from Laughter. Pinkie immediately lashed out, and blood poured from the new gash in Jeff's side. Unable to hide in his whirlwind, Jeff decided to make an animal of this opponent and threw himself upon her back. His arms carried enough momentum from his bladestorm to lodge the blades on either side of the horse's face. Right away, she dropped to all fours and began bucking. Each thrust carved the scars deeper and longer across her face, but Jeff wouldn't last long like this, his disjointed arms prevented him from maintaining a tight grip for long. He needed time, an opening, a distraction, and he wanted an explanation.
“Alright, Pinkie Die,” Jeff spat to his steed, “How the hell did you get through my illusion so easily?” The bucking stopped all at once. Jeff waited for the right moment.
“Don't you know the best thing about slaughter, Jeffery?” Jeff nearly pounced at the name. He hadn't heard that name since Jane and his mother before her, but he calmed himself with the knowledge that all who ever called him by that name were on his victims list. “It ends with laughter!” Pinkie punctuated her statement by launching herself backward and cackling like a mad gypsy. Pinkie would fall on her back within two seconds. Jeff didn't have time to pop his elbows back in place, but he wasn't about to let go of his knives.
Just then, the voice spoke to him. Jeff didn't know if it would work, but he was out of options. Pinkie landed, but felt nothing between her back and the ground. She only felt that vague sense of universal displacement, but she hadn't been the one to trigger it. Pinkamena hadn't thought another with the power possible. She was so astounded she righted herself and called aloud, “How did you learn to do that?” Pinkamena would not have filth like this encroach upon her domain. Reality was her party favor, and she wasn't going to let someone else use it against her.
Luckily or unluckily, that was not an issue, because Jeff's voice responded in her ear, “I didn't.” She realized the knives had never left her face, nor had the arms attached. After two loud “pops” the knives were gone and Jeff was five feet behind her. She turned to face him for the next round.
“How?” Pinkamena glared daggers at Jeff, then took those daggers and wielded them, rising to her hind legs once more. Reality was still hers, so what just happened?
Jeff laughed again. Pinkie found this particular laugh to be her new favorite. It expressed every aspect of sadism, masochism, and blood-lust paralleled only by her own. “I hid in that void of a mane you have, you freak!” Pinkie's eyes widened to saucers. She dropped the daggers and dug threw her mane, but it was gone.
Those same pupils shrunk to pinpricks as she retrieved her daggers. “Where is it!?” Jeff only smiled in response. Pinkamena decided, for the first time, party-time was over. Blind with fury, she slashed after Jeff with everything she had. She was now moving too quickly and irrationally for Jeff to counter. Her rage made her clumsy, though, and she was unable to land her blows as Jeff parried and dodged.
The feeling was moving Jeff's body now, preserving him for future service, so he taunted his pastel partner. “I don't even know what was so special about it. I just had a feeling it would be best if it were mine.” Knives and daggers continued to dance without ever a side giving way. Finally Jeff placed the straw to break the camel's, or pony's, back. “I don't understand why it matters that I ate it. I don't even like sweets.”
Everything stopped. The knives, daggers, and even the air between them. “You ate it?” asked Pinkie Pie, her eyes peering into Jeff. He smiled wider, and she saw the bits of rock candy decorating his teeth. He had eaten the first rock candy necklace Maud ever made for her. Her first friend's first gift. Pinkie realized the party wouldn't end just yet. In fact, it was time for the big event.
Before Jeff could comprehend the escalation, there was a canon facing him between him and the candy-crazed murderer. They locked eyes as Pinkie pulled the string on her “super special picnic party canon”, and Jeff was blasted by all manner of party products, but there was one item that carried him. Jeff had seen enough to know that anything was possible, and if anything was possible, anything could be a weapon, but that didn't excuse being shot with a rainbow! It burned at his skin, but after the bleach and vodka burns that had disfigured him at the beginning of madness, burns no longer left marks. He careened through the sky, until the rainbow finally arched downward, plummeting him into a forest outside of town.
Pinkamena sagged a moment while the rainbow shot Jeff off toward the Everfree Forest. She began gathering her discarded tools, but she noticed something moving. She picked up her Hacksaw, and noticed Jeff's blood was moving on it's own. Curious in the unhealthiest way possible, she tasted the blood with a lick of her tongue. Her mind was instantly assaulted by images and voices. All were from Jeff's memories: His mother's pained cry when she saw her son carving his own face, a young man restrained and suffocating on a hospital bed, and a woman with unnaturally white skin, charred black hair, and completely black eyes. Pinkie snapped back to reality and noticed the blood was moving toward the Everfree Forest of its own accord. The party wasn't over just yet. She still needed to give out the parting favors. She finished gathering her supplies, and trotted off toward the forest, singing softly, “When you're rife with devastation, there's a simple explanation: you're a toy maker's creation trapped inside a crystal ball...”
