If you are the incarnation of death, are you allowed to die?
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If you are the incarnation of death, are you allowed to die?
Death was just minding his own business, going over the infinitely long list of names that would die today and in the next week. Keeping track of souls and crunching numbers was hard, and he didn’t get his degree in Metaphysical Math just to completely fail at cataloguing the constant stream of souls going into the afterlife.
He was especially anxious awaiting the arrival of a certain purple alicorn that loved books. My, would Death have a field day talking to her about the the applications of dying compared to the total weight of a soul in comparison to how much of a life force it used up to die in the way it did. The last time he had had such complicated and entertaining discussions was when Starswirl had died, and he had moved on ages ago. Or was it yesterday? Time was difficult to tell when you had an eternity.
He was interrupted from his musings and his cup of herbal tea when a loud arpeggio of chimes rang around him. Death blinked a few times, unsure what to make of what had just happened. Frowning in confusion at the loss and sudden setback by half-seconds in consideration of what had transpired, he quickly went back to work.
The chimes rang again, and Death looked up from his computer, now fully aware and fully annoyed by the fact that his doorbell was ringing. No one had ever dared ring his doorbell, mostly in fear that he would reap their souls. Death scoffed at that. He wasn’t so low as to actually do the job himself. That would be ridiculous.
But he was seriously wondering who would possibly attempt ringing his door. He almost didn’t even remember it was his doorbell because the last time he heard it was when he set it in the first place. Scratching his skeletal head, he sighed heavily and tried to forget it. Maybe it was just a very ambitious door-to-door salespony and they would soon realise what door they were knocking on.
When a moment had passed, Death smiled and went back to his work, now furiously going through the lists. He was over three seconds behind! The terror! This would set him back centuries, millennia, even eons!
As his eyes flitted across the screen, his laptop flew out of his hands and tea spilled everywhere as the chimes were suddenly spammed incessantly for moments on end. Death shrieked in hysterical pain, jumping around as his cloak was scalded and his dignity was ruined. After flying around a bit, he calmed down, only to realise what condition his laptop was in.
Mourning the loss of a good workhorse that had survived him three centuries, Death grumbled to himself and shuffled towards the door, the shadows around him tightening and writhing with annoyance. He would set whoever rang his doorbell straight. His schedule was behind! At this rate, he would have to cut time out of his own vacation, and that meant less time to relax!
Throwing the door open, he immediately realised just who he was looking at and proceeded to slam the door shut.
“Nope,” Death said. He quickly backed away from the door, shaking his head frantically. “Nope nope nope nope nope. A broken laptop I can handle. This, just no!”
“Oh come on!” a high-pitched muffled voice cried, somewhat disappointed. “Not even for a little bit?”
“Go away!” Death yelled, frantically waving his hands, “You’re not supposed to be dead for another thousand years!”
“A thousand years?” the voice asked. “Why so long?”
Death winced. “B-because it’s when your Sixth Sense expires. And then I need to renew it!”
There was silence for a few moments, but Death knew he wasn’t lucky enough to have this certain pony disappear on him. If only she could disappear, but Death couldn’t kill her because then it would mean having her here anyways! It was excruciatingly painful to think about.
He heard a loud gasp from outside his door before it started banging in and out, as if a force of nature were attempting to break through it’s adamantium metal. Nothing could possibly be able to-
The door swung open with a loud crash, completely swinging off its hinges. In fact, it flew open so hard that it went straight back and through the wall it was hinged to before it floated away into the mystical abyss of the higher dimension. Standing in the wake of this completely unnecessary and totally awesome destruction was a bright pink pony with a mess of a mane and the widest of disbelieving smiles. Death however, had a completely disbelieving look altogether.
It was Pinkie Pie.
“You gave me my Pinkie Sense!?” Pinkie shouted more than she asked, and a gust of wind blew past Death. “This is amazing! It all makes sense! How I can sense danger, how I know when things are falling and when there’s alligators in my tub. Wow!”
Death huffed. “Of course. It’s to keep you away from me for as long as the universe will let me, and I intend to use that leniency to its fullest. Just keep away from me and live!”
Pinkie shook her head, so much so that Death was truly afraid it would fall off and she would die. “I can’t do that! I still have so many parties to plan and plans to execute and executions to delay and delays to push forward and-”
“Okay,” Death pleaded, “Then you can go on your way and leave me be. I have work I need to do!”
Pinkie pouted, pawing the ground. “Aw, but I brought a cake with me to celebrate your three-hundred and seventy-three billion nine-hundred and seventy-six million two-hundred and twenty-three thousand six-hundred and fifty-fourth death to ever catalogue! It was on my list of future things-to-do for the longest time. What am I gonna do with it?”
Death stared at her, blinking as he tried to process what she had said. Of course, she was entirely correct. Just when his laptop had petitioned for its untimely demise, he had most certainly done that exact number. It was just that it was so highly specific, it was next to impossible for her to have even known the exact moment that he would’ve completed such a number.
Death looked at her in fear. “H-how did you know it would be today?”
Pinkie Pie giggled delightfully, snorting as if she knew something he didn’t. “Pinkie Sense, silly. I thought you were the one who gave it to me!”
“Only for near-death situations!” Death cried out indignantly.
Pinkie was suddenly beside Death and booped him in the nose. “I am near you. I’m right beside you!”
Death screeched as the touch burned his nose. He scrambled back, trapped between his own walls and the Pink Devil before him. Acknowledging Pinkie’s logic in the next instant, Death groaned and facepalmed. “Oh my god, what the fu-”
“Hush!” Pinkie said. “There are kids around.”
Death stared at her. “Why can you make sense one second and go to making no sense in the next?”
“No one knows how to write me.” Pinkie shrugged. “It’s why I’m such a wacky character. I’m the same personality most of the time, it’s just how I’m written people get mad about!”
Death groaned, placing his head into his hands. He started to explicitly sob, moaning to himself. “When did I allow for my life to get this crazy?”
Pinkie smiled. “Oh, approximately a thousand words ago. But don’t worry, I have cake!”
“Cake means nothing to me.”
Pinkie gasped, sucking in all the air in the room before expelling it just as dramatically. She stared at Death as if his hair was on fire, though I guess his entire skull being on fire would technically count as something to stare at all the same.
“How can you say such a thing?”
Death looked up, shaking his head. “When you’re literally the incarnation of death, you can’t really go wrong with being depressed.”
Pinkie jumped into the air, an explosion of confetti popping out of her mane with an added sound effect. “Then I’ll throw you a party. How about it? I’ll bring all my friends, plus your friends! I know Fate and Chance quite well, you know, and I definitely hit it off quite nicely with Time. Boy, are they funny people. The first time any of them saw me, they fainted! Luckily, I was able to revive them all with my red-velvet jalapeno cakes, but those are for especially hard cases. They kinda looked as exhausted as you right now, actually!”
“My,” Death breathed tiredly, “I wonder why?”
“I know, right? But don’t worry, I’ll be back in a jiffy. Soon, you’re dark grey home and bland interior decorating will be colourful, stylish, and most important of all, fun! Don’t go anywhere, because this will rock your world!” With that and a pink blur later, Pinkamena Diane Pie was gone. In her place was an invitation to his party, expertly titled Death’s Door! Don’t knock, just walk right in! RSVP unnecessary, meet up in 5 minutes. Bring treats and a smile!
Suffice it to say, Death was wishing he himself could die. Sighing wistfully, he stared at the gaping hole that led out to his front porch, and at the door he had so expertly crafted himself.
“I hope my insurance company covers Pinkie Pie Collateral,” Death muttered.
Author's Note
Press F to pay respects.
Also, first comedy one-shot in ages. Whoopee, go me! I still need ideas.
