Isn't Pinkie Pie supposed to be funny?

by Doood

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Pinkie Pie, Human, Drama, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5538

I honestly don't know what to say. When a pink mare shows up in your house, and tells you to go somewhere with her, you can't say no.

I will admit to the guilt of being a loner. Personally, I like the silence. It means more me time, rather than me and someone else time.

Oh but wait. That's right, as fate would have it, suddenly I'm in neck level expenses in covering for a particular mare that just so happened to knock on my door as though she was a freaking Jehovah's witness.

Do I have time to learn about the almighty god, Pinkie Pie?

No.

I don't.

To be honest, I've been saying that alot lately...

CAUTION:
This fic may cause major cases of Diarrhea

Published 2017-10-20 05:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-11-01 06:00:15 UTC

I write Sins. Not tragedies.

Chapter 1:

How does one begin a story-

Hell, what even is a story to begin with?

I used to think that stories were just memories melded together to make something for the viewing pleasure of the readers. But Google has claimed that a story is, “...an account of imaginary or real people and events told for entertainment…”

I looked that up to sound smart for you guys. How's that for entertainment?

I can also juggle, yodel, and sing Frozen’s, Let it Go in spanish.

It's an accurate description for intelligent people. Only the smartest of the smart would understand what Google talks about. The definition for dummies is, “...a story is basically really long talk. Talk has words. Words are big…”

Mainly though, a story includes a beginning, several plot points, a climax, which usually differs one to the end of the story with either a big bang, or something satisfactory, and finally the ending.

A tad bit complex if you ask me. It's like the storyboard for Lord of the Rings.

You ever hear about short stories though? Now those are my favorite. Short, stories. Small books, few words, not so many pages. I prefer short stories over anything else.

They get you straight into what the author wants to talk about, and end it abruptly.

My story is kinda like that.

So, for due process and all that jazz, let me drop you into something.

What I will start you off with, is the My Little Pony Fandom.

The little corner of this world that people of every race and possible ethnicity come together to revere the great fictional horses that reside in Equestria.

They come in all shapes and sizes, and are arranged in a crayola fashion. And as an added bonus, they are made into plushies for our brony pleasure.

I have an Octavia plushy that no one ever sees and I payed a guy a hundred bucks for it. #ThatBronySpendature

I could go on and on about how I'm better than you, but this is a short story.

Well, take the MLP fandom with a grain of salt, because unknown to me at first, someone came into my life unexpectedly on a Friday afternoon.

This specific someone, was Pinkie Pie.

She knocked on my door.

Well, I wouldn't say knocked. Knocking has a catchy little tune to it. Pinkie didn't have that tune. She actually took a hammer to the wooden frame and completely decimated it.

I know, I said the exact same thing. I don't have door insurance to cover that breakage.

Now, me being the sane person I am, I'm going to list a few things to keep you in sync with what is going on.

There are some crazy, insane, and totally incomprehensible shit that happens from time to time in our world. And sometimes, they are unavoidable, depending on what happens.

It's called, luck, karma, etc.

An example of said notions, forgetting where the toilet is. We all have had it happen, it's okay to admit it. Or for men, where are dicks are. That's some crazy stuff, lemme tell ya.

Something insane would be doing a... backflip, onto a moving truck that is jumping through a flaming hoop which is dropping into a volcano.

Insane.

Incomprehensible stuff, would be talking to someone, and then you start speaking another language. Like french. Next thing you know, you got one dude speaking English, and you’re standing there berating him in la francais.

Now the pink problem, categorized a whole new level. If one person, or pony for that matter, would knock on my door? I would expect the Kool-Aid man, Hulk Hogan, or Arnold Schwarzenegger.

The reason is because they break shit for a living.

Not Pinkie Pie.

Not in a million years would I expect such a thing to happen.

But hey, when she knocks, or breaks down the door, who else can you blame other than...

Well mainly yourself.

So Pinkie Pie, if you need reference, a pink mare with quite the head of hair, used a goddamn wooden mallet the size of a bowling ball to break down my apartment door.

Said door, groaned under the first hit, making me think I was being swatted. At the time, I was taking a shit due to the mistake of ordering chinese food late at night.

Let's just say that I put a little extra brown in the bowl than needed.

The second hit, I was hurrying myself along to wipe and at least make myself presentable. Didn't want anyone to catch me with my trousers down.

Literally.

Then, I was freaking out internally. For the life of me, I couldn't understand why somebody was breaking my door down. It was like trying to guess how much sand was in a beach.

You know there's alot. But you can't guesstimate that stuff. Impossible to even try.

The third hit rolls around, and I could see the hammer. They've done cracked most of the frame, so I got ready for the worst.

The last hit, caused the door to go into pieces. It got absolutely demolished. We'retalkingworse than plate shards.

So I shut the door to the bathroom and cowered behind it with my arms splayed out.

That was how I thought I would die. Dropped a sizeable dook, and then my head is caved in by Harley Quinn.

But then I hear her speak.

“Pinkie Pie is in the house!!”

Me: U fuckin wot m8?

No, no, it gets better. Not only did she announce that she was inside my place, but she tossed her hammer, and broke something.

I could hear the glass shattering.

“Sorry! I broke one of your windows too!”

I mean, yes, you broke down a door and took a pane of glass out, that's a cool feat. But does a murderer chop a guy up and say,

“I'm cutting a dead guy up!”

It's retarded!!

“Helloooo~?”

I visibly grind my teeth together. I didn't know who it was at the time. So whoever I thought it was, had seriously gotten on my nerves.

And I was going to shove my fuzzy socked foot up their arse for intruding.

Surprisingly, I reopen the door. However, i did not expect to come face to face with blue eyes, and a head of poofy hair.

“Hiya there Mr. Debbie Downer!”

It sounds like she has exclamation points at the end of every sentence. God that's diabolical…

Anyway, the act scares me, and I end up hitting myself on the head by tripping on the carpet that lied in the bathroom.

“PONY! SWEET SHIT!!”

Lucky I didn't get a concussion.

Although… that didn't sound to bad.

“Ooooo~, that looked like it hurt!” Pinkie said, her pony form jumping up and down.

How...- why does one do that?! You announce the obvious like a doctor does when you have a disease.

Sorry sir, but you are clinically insane.

No shit.

I gripped the wound, my heart beating a mile a minute as there were now three Pinkies jumping up and down.

“Yeah, thanks…” I grumble to myself as I try shaking away the pony and the fact that she was not there, “Stupid… dreams and their stupid characters…”

First mistake.

Pinkie looked around, wrinkling her nose, “Smelly dream you have.”

I chuckle dryly, “I just shat myself… So yeah. Smelly ind-WAITAMINUTE.”

I literally had to stop myself from having an actual conversation,

“YOU- YOU'RE-”

Pinkie Pie stepped from the bathroom and out into the main part of my apartment,

“Pinkie Pie! At your service!” She bowed.

I knew who she was. I mean, who doesn't? Hell, you don't even have to watch the show to know who she is.

I find pictures of her in a Subway restaurant for christsakes.

“What are you doing in my apartment?!”

Pinkie giggled, “I'm glad you asked! See, I am on a mission to repair the bonds of order! Selected by Twilight to come by and mend you and your frie-”

I held my temple feeling a migraine most foul coming along, “Please don't tell me you broke my door down, busted a window, and gave me a welt on the back of my head, just to give me a friendship lesson.”

I was infuriated as you can clearly see.

“Well~, you see about that…”

I mocked her, “Well, nothing! What in the absolute hell is happening?!? YOU'RE- YOU ARE A CARTOON. CHARACTER!!”

I poked her for good measure and watched as she giggled at the motion. She was real.

I had a real Pinkie Pie in my house,

Sorry sir, but you have wanked off to too much Pony Porn.

How is she even...

“Well of course I am silly! And you, are the main reason I'm here!”

I was going to say something really snarky, but instead I may have puked a little on the inside,

“Wait, what?”

Pinkie clicked her hooves twice as she leapt into the air, “Yeeperoo! You, lucky guy, get to have some fun with little ol’ me!”

Seriously, the amount of exclamation points is baffling,

“Okay, slow the fuck down.” I said, taking two steps around this mare, “Rewind to when you broke into my home, and we will go from there.”

“Okay~” She says, pretending to think back,

“I knocked.”

I nodded, “Uhuh.”

“You didn't answer!”

“Mmm - okay.”

Pinkie smiled, “So I put the one-two on your door there!”

“And then?”

Pinkie shrugged, “That hammer was pretty heavy, Debby D.”

I sighed, facepalming, this was going to be a long day. I could already tell.

“First off, it wasn't one-two, it was more like two-four. Second, my name is not Debby D. Thirdly, WHY?!?!”

Pinkie tsked me, “A magician never reveals her secrets!”

I picked up the mallet, raising it high over me, “IMMA ALAKA SMASH YOUR-HOLY FUCK MY HEAD…” I was going to do something drastic, like bash her face in.

But the throbbing of a migraine popped out of nowhere.

This, in any standard, migraine or no, was utterly incredible, and I should be freaking out in a good way. But first impressions matter.

And mark my words, my life will crumble just like the door did.

“C'mon Debbie D! We got stuff to do!”

I held my face, sitting on my steps, “Pinkie, for the love of god, please stop talking. I'm not going anywhere with you.”

Wait. Wait, wait, what am I saying?? This is a once in a lifetime-

Well she did break my stuff...

Pinkie laughed, “Aw c’man, we are gonna turn that frown, upside down!”

I swear to god. One more exclamation point, and I will quit everything.

I held out a hand, “Imma turn my ass around and sleep here in a minute.”

I laughed,

“Why are you even here!?”

“Because you are my job.”

“Why?”

“Because I want everypony to smile.”

“Everyone - why?”

Pinkie put a hoof on her eye, “Because of a Pinkie promise.”

I hummed, “Mmm… still doesn't answer why you want specifically me.”

“Don't ask silly questions you don't want silly answers for.”

I sighed loudly, she had a point. I could tell I hit a nerve though.

“Okay. Look.” I knelt down and falsely smiled, “You got a good character and all. But you seriously caught me at a bad time.”

Pinkie raised a brow, “That's nice and all, but this isn't a matter of your opinion Debbie D. You're coming with me.”

I frowned, stood, and crossed my arms, “Oh? Says whom?”

She produced a cannon out of her ass, “Says Pinkie! Now get in the cannon.”

Oh.

Author's Note

Grinning and giggling

But I do write Comedies.

Chapter 2:

I hate Pinkie Pie.

No-no, I do. It's not a question of why, It's a question of how.

How I hate her are some obvious reasons, one her attitude. Always so cheery all the time. Only living things that’re that glad, are Sunflowers and Clowns.

Sunflowers because they fight zombies for a living, and clowns because clowns are fucking weird.

Second Reason, is how her character responds to open ended stimuli. Like for example, I say,

“I'm not getting in the cannon.”

Her response is,

“That's okay, the cannon can come to you.”

Blunt, hard and quick to the point. She doesn't have that positive feedback, she dishes it out with half assed reason.

The third quality, is her character in general. Honestly the first two could be summed up in this rhetorical bullet point.

She was raised on a rock farm in which she and her family had to do the same boring thing all day. Pick up rocks.

Okay that is actually a good backstory, it means she wasn't always happy. Sad Pinkie equals a depressed audience.

Suddenly, she sees a rainbow flood the sky and she's just all,

Poof - “Holy fuck that’s beautiful! LET'S SHARE THIS KINDNESS WITH THE FAMILY!!”

I'm okay with that too. It shows that what she saw changed her. But after it gets beyond that point, and with how she can bend the laws of physics to her will, everyone is creating this whole idea about how Pinkie is basically the ponial version of Marvel’s Babe: Deadpool.

Well… that's how I like to think about it anyway. All up to you.

And again, I hate Pinkie, but hate is a strong word, and I'm probably pissing off a couple of Pinkie fans out there.

Just writing that down killed off about twenty five of them.

She has a few good moments… like Pinkie Sense. Or how she somehow knew in the first season, that the bugs weren't all that cute.

But that's just that.

The main expense of Pinkie is for comedic relief. Something bad happens, and she's there to make it a joke. Like with Family Guy, she can take a horrible accident and make it funny.

Well, sorry people for saying it, but laughing about how a dragon is destroying your town, does not solve the problem.

Laughing causes the dragon to become butthurt. Dragon has no butthurt cream, thus and forever more, he then murders said town.

So, to wrap this up in a nice neat bow, I'm going to finish off by saying, Pinkie Pie, is a-

“LOOSE CANNON!!”

I told her I wasn't getting in the cannon. So she debuted me with something James Bond would say, and she fired.

However, keeping a cannon lodged in your ass all the time, has its downfalls. Like for example, when she fired the circus gun, the thing blew off its hinges, bucking three more times in different directions and flew right out the open front door.

I heard my car alarm go off just before confetti slapped across my face, a horrid stinging filling my senses. I yelped in terror, as the force made my body go into the dresser that held several napkins for the kitchen.

Pretty sure I cracked a couple of ribs, not to mention I also broke my ass bone when I hit the ground. Either than that, I was fine.

Pinkie turned out to be quivering in my umbrella holster, the small vase shaking.

After the ringing stopped, the alarm started. Not the, personal alarm, but my car's alarm.
I wasn't alarmed, my car was.

C'mon people. These are quality jokes here. Fucking giggle already.

I stood and shook the loose confetti off. They came off of me in ribbons colored blue pink and red. After that was done, I had to take off the party hat that donned my head, and the weird blow thingy that was in my mouth.

“Pinkie…” I said slowly facepalming, “I can't believe you've done this.”

The complex was trashed. Confetti rained still, there was cake and candles on the cake in the kitchen, banners all around. Place looks like kids decorated it and left without a word.

Wasn't my birthday, so why the came?

Guess where the cannon went though.

That's right. In my fucking car.

I don't have car insurance that covers cannon destruction.

So, it perplexes me why the guardians of fate chose to send Pinkie Pie. Why not send Twilight so she can berate me with the use of knowledge? Fluttershy so I could talk to somebody, and they would listen? Hell, Applejack so she could knock some sense in me.

Reason I didn't add Rainbow Dash or Rarity is because I don't like their characters any more than Pinkie right now.

Brony Deathcount:

Rainbow Dash Fans : deceased

Rarity fans: 4,987 deceased

Pinkie Fans: Those of you who are reading this.

Reason of death: Cardiac Arrest

I stepped onto my front porch and gazed at my now crushed car. The cannon went through the window, and it was sticking itself out like it was a fucking boner.

A sigh escaped my throat as the car alarm got rather annoying. So I took the keys from my pocket and clicked the red alarm button.

The alarm went silent.

There were no words for the emotions that were passing through my head. Anger. Sadness. Loss. Regret.

I'll also add grief in their for an effort to sound like a depression support group.

The sound of clopping hooves on wood reached my ears. Pinkie appeared beside me, “Oops... “ she said, giving me an oopsie smile, “Is that yours?”

My eye twitched.

“Well the good news is you now have a pirate car, and you can sail the seven roads!”

I turned to look at Pinkie, “I'm going to sail seven feet up your ass.”

How I would do that would take time. But it would be done. Mark my words… again.

She hung her head, “I'm sorry.”

Sorry doesn't exactly cut it this time. Id have to explain to my neighbors and anybody who had heard this accident, that it was just that.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse- The radio in my car turned on, the song Sorry started playing.

“Is it too late now to say sorry~”

O.o.O.o.O

I had no other choice after finding my house in disarray. I had to lock her up in the shed in the backyard, and go to the corner store for some food.

Because apparently, Pinkie had also raided my fridge of anything edible.

The damnable gluten had eaten almost everything.

So, I Iured her into my shed. Left her a trail of M&M’s to follow, and when she got into the shed, I locked the door shut, putting the key lock on. Ended up pocketing the key and running like mad.

I slammed the door shut to my car and did the usual. Engine on, put in drive, look behind me-

Cannon.

Still can't believe it's there.

“Pirate Car…” I muttered to myself, mocking the Element of Laughter.

I backed out using my side mirrors and got on the road. The ride didn’t take long. There's a reason why it's called a corner store.

It was named Zippy Mart. The owner's name was John, and John was an Old Bastard. He and I have gotten into that sort of customer-owner relationship over the past few years and we liked to banter like an old couple everytime we met.

He's a pretty stand up kinda guy, he's just a bit weird.

I walked into Zippy’s and took a left to go get some milk.

“Well if it isn't my worst customer!”

I stopped walking and sighed. With what has happened, I really couldn't banter with John right now. So I ignored him.

“What're you getting today bud? Hopefully you can pay for it this time.”

I grumbled to myself as I pulled the Milk out, setting it on the counter,

“John- shut the hell up and make me a sandwich.” I slapped a fifty on the counter and made my way to the snack aisle as the guy chuckled,

“Jayzus, what's got your panties in a bunch?”

My eye twitched again, but I refused to tell him why.

A pony has destroyed my bank account in a literal few moments, and she wants me to go with her on her favorite rocket ship.

Oh, and her name is Pinkie Pie.

“I got reasons as to why, John.”

John laughed from his sandwich booth, “I won't pry.”

Yeah. He will.

He eyed me, “Is it a lady friend?”

He did.

“My advice? Listen. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” He said with a smile.

Only thing he wouldn't do is overprice cheese. And that doesn't sound like a good relationship goal.

Honey, I know you’re mad, but there's this cheese...

I leaned out from the aisle and pointed, “Keep your old ass nose away from my business.”

John held his hands up, my finished sandwich in one of them,

“Hey, I'm just saying, I've had my fair share of lady friends bud.”

I came to the counter with food that would tide me over until I could figure what I would do with Pinkie,

“Oh, wow. Really?” I leaned forward, “You keep count?”

He sputtered, “W-well.”

As he handed me my change, I interrupted, “Exactly.”

I exited feeling a bit dickesh, “Old… bastard.”

But he did pry into my business. He was a good guy, never hurt anyone. But with old age came that nosiness that I absolutely abhorred.

What was bought, I threw in the trunk. Me, I put myself in the driver's seat. And with a sigh, I cover my face with my hands.

Still gotta deal with the devil.

I'm actually kinda worried that she might be dying in the shed. No air-

Wait. What am I saying. It's Pinkie. She's fine. Probably already escaped.

I put the key into ignition and did the routine. Engine on, put it in drive, look behind me,

Pinkie.

Pinkie, and Cannon.

Pinkie and Cannon plus Pinkie with mad face.

Very bad for me.

“I hope you do know I locked the shed with a lock that was said to be very tough.” I said, sniffing.

When she all but glared at me, I continued, “What do you want, Pinkie.”

“Two things.” She said holding up two hooves,

“One, your cooperation. Next time you lock me in a shed with no cupcakes, there will be consequences.”

I slapped my head, “Shit. I forgot the cupcakes! Let me just-”

Patting myself down, I sighed and snapped my fingers, “You know, I forgot my handy dandy notebook.”

Pinkie was unamused, “Hilarious.”

I nodded, “It is. Coming from you, that must mean I'm like, your protegé right?”

“That's the second thing. I came here to help you make friends, and smile.”

“Wow. Very surmisable goal.”

“Yes. A goal that you're making very difficult. “

I grinned, “I'm just that kinda person.”

Pinkie shook her head and sighed, “Debbie D, this is the start to a long and very tedious-”

“AD-FRIENDTURE!”

I'm going insane...

O.o.O.o.O

Author's Note

Baby almost got featured.
Butta luck next tem

This chapter is a lie

Chapter 3:

“Yeah, I was uh… calling in question if there was a certain medicine for…” I held my temple already dreading this conversation,

“Ponies - that would help ease them to sleep.” I had to strain to hear what this lady said.

…

“Yes, I know it's ten in the morning, ma'am, but if you could please stay with the main plot of where I'm going with this?”

...

“No, not that kind of sleep. Preferably a sedative. Kudo points for asking though.”

…

“Do I own a pony?”

Looking behind me, I groaned internally and held my face. Pinkie was using my couch as a couch fort, and she was using the cannon to blast away several set up soldier pillows.

Would I technically own her or would she own me ?

“I unfortunately do.”

Not gonna answer that truthfully...

…

“Don't give me that, not right now please.”

…

“Yes, I'll hold.”

I put my hand on the microphone portion of the phone, “PINKIE, PUT THE FUCKING REMOTE BACK.”

She was fiddling with buttons.

“Debbie? What's the channel that plays the goofy looking sponge?”

I groaned, “Its… gah- Twenty four!”

Pinkie giggled, somehow typing in that channel with hooves,

“Thanksssss!”

And then Spongebob started playing. Oh how I loathe her…

The lady on the line spoke up again, so I picked up the phone,

“Hello? Yes, yes, still here.”

…

“Okay so, that's the sedation? How much would it cost?”

…

“She's about-” I leveled myself, “-a good five feet. Probably weighs two hundred.”

In pure cocaine.

…

“Alright, I’ll bring her in- Wait. How many zeros?”

…

A pointless conversation if the knockout juice costed more than my life.

So I hung up and sighed, holding both sides of the table my house phone was at. Looking back at Pinkie, I had a choice.

Leaving town.

Or death.

I prefer death at this point.

“Hey Debbie! You almost ready?” She said from somewhere in her fort.

She and I planned - excuse me - I planned on going to Starbucks to pick up some coffee for this temper of mine. But since I couldn't shake the pinkster, as If she's a wraith, I would have to bring her along.

Mainly though, I'm just trying to buy time. See if she won't disappear due to the lack of fun we were (not) having.

“I just need my keys, Pinkie.”

Think they were on my desk upstairs again. I had come back from the store not to long ago with an irritable Element of Laughter, but she brightened up when she found out I was going somewhere.

I turned to go upstairs, but ever so casually Pinkie was just,

“There!”

It surprises me still, how you think you know where she is, but she's not actually there, and in fact she's crossing several dimensions to get to where she is needed.

The fourteenth doctor confirmed?

“Uh… thanks?” I managed to get out.

While on the inside, I was dying of brain hemorrhage.

Since I had my keys, Pinkie smiled, “Alrighty-O Bucko! Now we get to begin your lessons!”

“Oh?” I say, raising a brow, “And what would these lessons be?”

Pinkie jumped in the air and tapped me on the nose,

“The first one is, Forrrrgiveness!”

I think the legal term is “boop”. Dunno though, not really lingual in the verbal usage nowadays. The last time I used any kind of slang, it was back in the 80’s and the word was “shag”. Honestly, all that got me was heartbreak and a forklift shoved up my ass.

Warehousing accident. Go figure.

“Pinkie. I forgive you.” I smiled, “There. Lesson done, you can go now.”

I walked past her and parted the saran wrap that was my makeshift door. Since the current one was being sold on eBay for the mallet and Pinkie damage…

No hits yet.

Need to learn though, It's really hard to shake someone, who has been shook way longer than I could realize.

“It's not that easy Debbie!”

Should've known.

She grabbed my shoulder and hauled me to the side licking her lips as she began berating me with her monologue.

“See, I have been sent, by Twilight -”

Correction, I will manhandle Twilight if I see her.

“- and the reason I'm even here, is because she needs to spread the rules of friendship!”

I raised a brow, “Sure she didn't send you here because you give her headaches?”

Pinkie completely ignored me, “To do that, you need to follow the four steps to Pinkie’s Four step Program…”

I raised both brows inciting a rather curious rumble, “Wow. A double foreshadow.”

She counted them by pulling my fingers out, “The first step, is forgiveness, the second is the attitude process, the third one involves a motorcycle-”

“A motorcycle?” I said suddenly, standing to revel in the incredulous act, “Why a motorcycle?!”

Pinkie giggled, “A magician's secret Debbie!”

I rolled my eyes.

“And finally, the last one, is to see how far you've gotten, or progress.” She smiled, “After that, You won't be a Debbie Downer any more!”

I will have transcended a Debbie Downer.

I counted in my head, “So, four steps. Will you say… leave? After I complete this process?”

Pinkie laughed, “It won't take long, and yes, I guarantee you that I will be out of your life - it even says so on the business card!”

She whipped out a business card and made me look at it. I numbly took the shiny plastic card and scrunched my nose.

It showed Pinkie and Rainbow Dash holding up a sign that held the acronym for Pinkies Four step Program.

F.A.P.P

Hold on. If there was ever a time I…

My mouth curved into a sardonic grin,

“Fapp...?”

Pinkie nodded, “Yessir! Forgiveness, Attitude, Preparedness, and Progress! I call it the Fapp program!”

My heart.

Nevermind the fact that it was something i did on a daily basis, I had to actually bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing aloud. It sounded so wrong, and to be honest, I don't know if Pinkie knew what Fapp meant.

And there, below it was the guarantee she would be out of my life within the next day.

So, I would have to complete the Fapping process for any of that to come to pass...

“Alright Pinkie.” I pointed at her, “I will do it. But you have to pinky promise you'll be gone by tomorrow.”

It was the only thing she could do to keep me from booting her outta my house. Then again she'd just rip my asshole a new one in ways of destroying my sanity.

She giggled, “Such a worry wart.”

Sighing happily she did the maneuvers of the Pinkie code,

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my-” The sound of something large squishing, assaulted my ears,

“AYYYYE-”

We both went silent as something dripped onto her hooves.

So… she may have, or may not have punched herself in the eyeball. It probably sounds redundant considering that it's a part of the code, but Pinkie shouldn't have done that.

She crossed her heart, wiggled her hooves, she had no cupcake, thus her hoof went straight into her eye. And I do mean in.

Pinkie clutched her socket suddenly as a red liquid poured out. Spilling onto her hooves, onto the floor and permanently making me resent laughing at the sheer oddity of it all.

In retort, I freaked and squatted down as she looked at me in worry, droplets hitting the floor with a tear jerking splat,

My voice cracked, hands covering my mouth quickly, “OOOOOOH MY GOD- I THOUGHT PHYSICS DIDN'T APPLY TO YOU.”

Pinkie freaked too, her one good eye shifting to me in a panic, “THEY DOOONNNN’TTT -”

I held my head, “FUCK, LET ME GET SOME-HURRGH-” I had to stop myself from saying anything else. Otherwise I would start hurling my innards onto the wooden floorboards.

“IMMA GET THE NEOSPORIN.” I said with a finger raised.

Pinkie held her hoof out, the sarcasm making me wince, t“WHAT IN CELESTIA'S NAME WILL NEOSPORIN DO?!”

“IT CURES EVERYTH-HUEEEG-” I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. It tasted like ash and berries for some reason.

“DON'T JUST STAND THERE!”

“I'M TRY-HURRG.”

Right. She only poked her fucking eye out, and there I was about to explain how the medicinal properties of Neosporin could help her.

I turned and ran into the kitchen to fetch the first aid kit. Most of the time, I keep it on the top of the fridge. Found it after I about tore the entire top of the fridge apart.

My hands shook as I pulled out the thin bottle. I prepared the gauze and was about to grab the bandages however when I moved to grab for the adhesive strips -

Something… giggle worthy happened...

Now, giggling means you are happy. Jittery with feelings of content. Or if you did something funny.

I giggle when people fall down. Natural to do so in the laws of man. Of course, karma’s a bitch and I tend to receive something even worse later on.

But since this was Pinkie, I actually thought she was going crazy. Shock maybe. It turned from a giggle, into a full on cackle.

Which was a very bad combination.

In my mind two choices popped up on either side of me with corresponding buttons. Take a knife with you, or just man up and see what she's laughing about.

Interesting Choices.

I lean out into the hallway and find Pinkie rolling on the floor with tears in her eyes.

Not painful tears.

Happy tears. And no blood.

Amidst the mood swings and my incoherent babble about how this was, I noticed that she was holding a ketchup packet, and that her so called, pierced eye, was actually working.

So, being the nice person I was, I breathed in relief, and went back into the kitchen to get the knife anyway.

That, was the first test of Pinkie’s Fapp program.

I was not prepared…

O.o.O.o.O

Author's Note

Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo

Bananana

Doo-doo-doo-doo