In all of Equestria children hush when it's time to sleep. They fear to speak when they know Pinkie is out on a seek. The Republic and Empire both, fear the demon of laughs. Her parties promise maddening joy and her sadistic wrath. This is a tale that all foals hear, of which they all listen and live their lives in fear. Some believe, others are skeptic; of the element bearer who married the chaotic. Hear me well oh foal, oh colt, oh filly or adult. You are about to hear how Pinkimena Diane Pie joined the Discord cult.
Back in the days when Pinkie was normal. As normal as Pinkie could be at least. She had friends, she threw parties and had fun with no end, as she endlessly made glorious feasts. But one by one they went, unable to stay. As the war loomed, they had all made their way. Twilight to the sun to the mentor she loved. Trixie to the moon to one who gave purpose in her life. Fluttershy to the forest heeding their call, Rainbow dash to the empire, to Celestia she was loyal. And Rarity to the church, her generous heart heeding the call of the army of the down trodden people. Applejack, honestly did not know and so she fled with her family. To where? No pony knows.
All was left was Ponyville, a ghost of itself. With no pony left around, Pinkie... she only had parties by herself. For weeks and days she partied like no tomorrow. Seeing the days and nights shift she knew not when tomorrow was. Knowing not when to sleep, to party and weep she dare thought madness had encroached on her mental palace. It soon dawned or dusked on her, the idea that her parties sucked when no pony was there. No pony there to render Pinkie's claim rebuke.
And so she looked to the summit of the mountains, beyond the horizon Canterlot raged. Now there was a party, she thought in her Ponyville cage. Everypony was there and there they raved. Their punch to the point, their food a plenty, everypony sang with delightful anguish and agony. A chorus, a cacophony and maelstrom it was. They danced and bled with neither moon or sun signalling their end. The eternal party where everypony had fun. Fun everlasting, fun that begot fun.
With that thought in mind she began to laugh. As if on cue chocolate rain came down with a wrath. The buildings turned upside down and the ground turned soapy and chocolatey brown. Suddenly the town was once more a pony town. Had she gone insane or her mind playing tricks. Or was Discord around truly up to his old skits? Discord walked with a force she reckoned. An army of ponies that looked and beckoned. There Discord held them back with paw. As Pinkie's shoulder was touched by his claw.
"I knew I saw what I seek in you. You've blossomed well and your beauty too." Pinkie backed away from her former foe. Discord tsked and brought his head low. Discord vanished and reappeared. He was tiny now speaking in Pinkie's ear. She shook her head in defiant reply, even now the good in her refused to die.
"No pony here is out to get you. And as you are now, I think I love you." This made Pinkie mad albeit taken aback. How could such a monster play with a fair mare's fair heart like that! It's true his appearance was not to be desired, for a pony at least his appearance, lust, did not inspire. But she was sure that a female whatever-he-was would like him as he liked her. But she doubted as much. Caution gave way to suspicion of which begot more caution and in turn more suspicion. As Discord grinned and bowed in submission.
"We could do great things you and I. An eternal party beyond one that meets the eye." Discord mimicked the appearance of a pony. He could read her mind and knew her every fantasy! Of colts and parties and laughs and glee. Of doing that thing to her that she so secretly loved. You know, a killing spree. But she was not so fooled as easily as foals, much like those that surround her, her death their goal. With them around escape was on hold. Pinkie realised he wasn't going away, mayhaps he is right or so she was told. With him around the eternal party might just take flight. And this niggling melancholy go away like a bat in the night.
"I will join your side like my friends have there's. On a single condition, for my services I charge you a price quite fair."
The drab and dark cloaked ponies of the Discord cult, now carried balloons and streamers and candied colts. They held music and banners as the army marched forth. Less like marching and more like dancing gala art. Everypony were smiles and giggles, and the route they took was random and fickle. Instead of heading north to Canterlot direct, they made circles to surrounding settlements to recruiting effect. Seduced by the festive mood or the threat of death, many communities emptied left, right and left. With ponies left dead in their ritual party, blood flowing like wine drunken hearty. Innards and entrails decorate the streets. Mixed with streamers and faeces and chocolatey covered sky wee. Eyeballs and limbs would be on each door, mad looks and depraved postures all splattered with gore. No doubt (not even close) to give an inkling for what had been in store.
To this day it is said that Pinkie still marches. No pony left behind, her party catches. You child are warned to hide under your covers. Be silent. Be still. Lest Pinkie see you and hear you, and your fate be sealed. Ignore the knocking at the door, when you hear Pinkie cry your name. When you hear her wings flap, her claws scrape and hoofs clop deafen yourself or be driven insane. If her horns become a glow and your room lit pink. Run for your life or receive horrors beyond what your mind can think. Fight for your life. Be free of her influence. Die if you must. For the republic. For the empire. Any side you wish. Just don't fall to the madness and join the hysteria she digs.
