Pinkie's Day Off

by True Edge

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Pinkie Pie, Mr. Cake, Random, Slice of Life, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4081

When Sugar Cube Corner closes down for the day, Pinkie tries to find some way to occupy her time.

When Sugar Cube Corner closes down for Equestria’s Labor Day, the town’s newest resident, seventeen year old Pinkamena D. Pie, finds herself with nothing to do to entertain herself. After trying multiple avenues of fun and games, she comes to a dreadful realization:

She’s bored.
____________________________

A random bit of madness spawned as a bit of a challenge to myself. I wanted to write a good Pinkie Pie story, but I wanted to do it in a unique way. Given how much I’ve been enjoying writing Pony Plots, which is a first person perspective story, and that I’ve not seen any stories that are told from Pinkie’s perspective, I thought “Why not?”

Also, I couldn’t figure out who did the cover art, so unfortunately it is used without permission. However, if anyone can let me know who they are, so I can at least credit them, that would be awesome!

Oh, also, if this goes through, as of right now, it will be my first E rated story on the site! :pinkiehappy:

Published 2018-09-22 01:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-09-22 01:30:01 UTC

"What's 'Labor Day?'"

Mr. Cake stared at me for a long second after I asked the question, blinking like I had just asked what colour the sun was. As if I’d need to know such a thing. Everypony knew that the sun didn’t have any colour. How could it, when you couldn’t look at it? Duh! Still, I could understand his confusion . . . Er, Mr. Cake’s, that is, not the sun’s. I wasn’t sure if the sun even had a gender, and I certainly wouldn’t be so rude as to assume it.

Anyway, Mr. Cake’s confusion was similar to that of many of the ponies here, in the little town of Ponyville, whenever they found themselves speaking to me. I was fairly new to town, at the time, after all. A fresh faced filly of seventeen, newly arrived off the rock farm, and only halfway through my second week in my first real, paying job. I was working at Sugar Cube Corner, the local bakery and sweet shop, which I had thought was just the most super, awesome, spectacular job ever, when I first found the ad. Who knew there’d be a position open for an apprentice baker and party planner in town? It was so perfect!

Where was I? Oh, right!

With me being so new, not just to Ponyville, but to life off the farm, in general, ponies seemed a bit surprised by how . . . sparse, some of my knowledge was. I could tell you everything you wanted to know about rocks, for the most part, and I was quickly learning what I needed to know about how to throw a party. That was part of why I had answered the ad in the paper so fast, after all! To my way of thinking, every good party planner needed to know a thing or two about how to bake a cake, just in case they couldn’t find anypony else!

However, some things I didn’t know a lot about were . . . well, there was a lot. When I found out there was a noise curfew in town, I needed to have it clarified as to just what exactly that meant, and boy was that a shocker. I nearly lost both eyes, they bugged so far out of my head. I mean, who ever knew that having a loud party could actually disturb somepony?!

And that kinda leads me to the other big thing I’m not too good with. Ponies. I mean, I love ponies, I love making them smile, helping them have a good time, forget about their troubles and just, in general, relax and be happy. But I am starting to figure out that there is sometimes more to that than making a few jokes and throwing them a party. I’m a bit awkward at dealing with them, and it’s . . . well, sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. But, every time I get to feeling like that, there’s always a light that keeps me going. Multicoloured and more spectacular than Celestia’s sun, that strange rainbow explosion that happened the day I got my cutie mark, that showed me what true happiness felt like, and told me I needed to spread that joy to others. That drove me on, kept me going.

. . . . . .

Um, where was I, again?

Ah, yeah, yeah, the things I didn’t know.

Well, turned out, there was something else I didn’t know about, either. Holidays! No, no, not like Hearth’s Warming or Nightmare Night. Everypony knows about those. No, I mean a bunch of little teeny holidays I had never heard of before. Holidays with weird names, like “Boxing Day”, (Which I assume is a day to learn how to punch ponies, which is a bit too violent for my tastes.) ”Dia de las Muertos” which sounds like a lot of fun, and, oh, my favorite! “Talk like a Pirate day!” Arrrr, me hearties! Heeheehee!

So, when I came downstairs this morning and found that the shop wasn’t open, and I asked Mr. Cake about it, and he told me that the Corner was closed because it was Labor Day, and I asked him what that was, I could understand and forgive him for looking at me a little funny for a moment, before he shook his head and gave me a smile.

“Well, uh, Pinkie, you see. . . Labor Day is a special day that the government has set aside each year, so that Equestria’s workers can have an extra day off work to spend with their families and friends. Technically, as a family owned business, we don’t have to close down Sugar Cube Corner, but it’s always been I and Chiffon’s preference to do so, as it makes for a nice day to go out to the park and have a picnic, and just spend some time together without needing to worry about the shop.”

I stood, glued to the spot. I could feel my eyeballs trying to pop out and roll around on the floor in their surprise, and I couldn’t blame them. I opened my mouth, stammering a moment, before I managed to get enough air in to speak. “So, waitaminute! Are you telling me . . . that this is a day, a single little holiday, that’s totally devoted . . . to not working?!”

My father would have called it utter blasphemy. The mere thought probably would’ve cause him to burst a blood vessel, and then he’d be walking around with one eye all bloodshot, like the extra in a horror play. But to me . . . the idea of a day completely devoted to just doing whatever you wanted, having fun and being with friends. It was amazing!

I may have spazzed a little.

Okay, so I wound up bouncing around the room like an over inflated buckball before landing in a deflated puddle in front of Mr. Cake. I held up one hoof, before sucking in a huge breath, pinching my nose shut and blowing out hard, re-inflating myself. I saw Mr. Cake step back, wide eyed, and simply shrugged at him. Trying to explain how I did some things to some ponies would take too long, and it was just easier to shrug. Besides, they probably wouldn’t understand it. Not like all you lovely humans out there. Yes, that includes you, Matthew! I see you there. Those glasses look very nice on you, by the way! Did you get a haircut?

. . . . .

Anyway!

I smiled from ear to ear at him and jumped up to stand next to him. “Oh, oh! Can I pick the first thing we do, today, Mr. Cake?! Can I?! Can I?!” I rattled at him, vibrating from excitement while my mane made an ecstatic squee.

He hesitated, opening his mouth. “Uhh. . . “

“Ooh, ooh! I know! Let’s go down to the park and have a fiesta! I’ll bring the pinata!”

“Um, Pinkie. . . ?”

“Ooooh! Or, maybe we can go down to the lake and have a pool party!”

“Pinkie?!”

“Or, maybe we can head over to the Hayburger and-”

“PINKIE PIE!”

“What’s up, Mr. Cake?”

“Chiffon and I . . . Listen, we’d rather spend the day together.”

At my blank stare, he facehoofed and looked at me, sighing. “Alone.”

I blinked slowly. “Oohhhh. I get it. Why didn’t you just say so? Jeez, Mr. Cake, you should learn to be more assertive!” I said, missing his eyeroll as I pronked up next to him and smiled. “That’s fine! You and Mrs. Cake go on and have a fun day together! I am MORE than able to entertain myself!”

He smiled, sighing again, and stepped away towards the door. “Thanks, Pinkie. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Chiffon is outside, and I don’t want to keep her waiting!”

“Of course not! Enjoy yourselves!”

He waved goodbye, and I stood at the door, smiling and waving until the two of them were out of sight, then turned and looked around the Corner, rubbing my hooves together. “Okay, Me! What shall we do first? Play some board games?”

“No, not enough ponies.” I answered myself.

“Oh, right. Hm. Pin the Tail on the Donkey?”

“Hmm . . . No.”

“Why not?”

“Not enough ponies.”

“. . . . Ah. You know, Me, I’m beginning to see a pattern to our dilemma.”

With the realization that most of the things that I knew how to do required at least two other ponies to be practically entertaining, I decided to do the only thing left to do. Head outside, and see if there was anypony up for some fun!

* * * * *

So, I went and pronked outside and looked around. The town square was deeaaaaad. I mean, I’ve seen it pretty empty before, but nothing beat it that day. And to think, just the day before it had been so busy, you could barely walk down the street without bumping face first into somepony. But now? Not a pony in sight.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were a few, here and there, mostly young couples or families, out for a walk in the afternoon warmth. Oh, and then there was that one lone stall set up selling apple products from the local farm. I blinked and took a closer look. Yep, they were open for business. Wow, whoever ran that stall must be a super-dee-duper hard worker, if they were willing to stay open on a holiday that even the Cakes closed down shop for.

Curious, I bounced over to see what was up.

Standing behind the stall, looking extremely bored, was an orange earth pony mare with a blonde mane and tail, and wearing a funny looking hat, like some kind of cowpony from a western play. She had freckles on her face, which looked super cute, and bright green eyes. She didn’t look like she was much older than I was, and as I bounced up to her stall, I caught a glimpse of her cutie mark: Three apples, set a bit candiwumpuss to each other on her flank.

I skipped to a stop in front of her stall and gave her my biggest, most friendliest smile. “Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie!” I said, cheerfully, and she smiled politely back at me, nodding in a professional sort of way, and spoke.

“Well, howdy there, Pinkie Pie! Ain’t y’all that new filly who’s workin’ over at Sugarcube Corner?”

I nodded happily. “Yepperooni! That’s me!”

“Well, shucks, pleased ta finally meetcha! My name’s-”

“Ep-ep-ep!” I shushed her, putting one hoof to her mouth, which made her eyes cross in a funny way. “Don’t tell me! I love guessing games!”

I looked her all over and then nodded. “Orange Delight?”

She blinked and shook her head. “Uh, nope.”

“Hmmm . . . Oh, oh! Orange Cream!”

“Nooo. Why on earth-”

“Unun! I can get this!” I looked at her cutie mark and tapped my muzzle.

“Really, it’d just be simpler if I just told ya-”

“No! I guess . . . Apple Sauce?!”

“No, though ya are gettin’ a might closer. Least, ya got the fruit right, this time.”

“Aha! Your name is . . . Apple Juice!”

“Nope.”

“Apple Punch?”

“Huh-unh.”

“Apple Tree?”

“No.”

“Apple . . . Crisp?”

“No, Pinkie, my name’s-”

“No, no, I can get this!”

I scrunched up my face in thought, squeezing my eyes shut and biting my lip, making a high pitched, whining sort of noise as I tried to force my brain to come up with the correct name. With a pop and a wheeze, my mane let out some of the excess air, and I deflated. “Oh, who am I kidding? I dunno. What’s your name?”

I looked up and saw she had the same wide eyed expression that others got whenever I did something they thought was weird or unusual, and I just smiled and shrugged, again. She shook her head, as though to cast away the thought of the oddity in front of her, and reclaimed her polite smile.

“Well, Pinkie Pie, my name’s Applejack, pleased to meet ya!”

I blinked, looking at her. “Applejack?”

“Eeyup!”

“. . . . Why?”

“Well . . . why what?”

“Why ‘Applejack’?”

“’Cause, it’s what my pa named me.”

“I . . . seeee. . . . Tell me, did your pa ever go out to the woods, late at night, maybe to an old shed that smelled of yeast and burning things, and come back with crates of old jam jars filled with what he and your mother insisted was just ‘cider’?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “No, an’ I don’t much care for the insinuation.”

“Well, with a name like ‘Applejack’, somepony in your family had to run moonshine!”

“My family is the most honest, hard workin’ bunch of farmers in this here valley! Hay, maybe in the whole kingdom! An’ I won’t hear anything otherwise, neither!”

I held up my hooves defensively. “Okay, okay, sheesh!”

She ground her teeth, and snorted, glaring at me, and I felt a little sinking sensation in my chest, and my mane went a bit lank around my withers. “Aw, shoot. I’m sorry. I was just trying to be friendly, and now I’ve gone and ran my mouth when I shouldn’t have again.” I stepped over and started banging my head against the post of her stall.

“Stupid, Pinkie! Bad Pinkie!” I muttered, over and over.

Like I said, I wasn’t the most . . . well rounded of ponies, back then.

After a few seconds, I felt a strong hoof on my shoulder, pulling me away from the post, and I glanced over to see Applejack looking at me with some concern.

“Hey, now, sugarcube, ain’t no reason for y’all to be actin’ like that. Ya didn’t mean no harm, and so there ain’t no harm done, I reckon.” She said, giving me an encouraging smile, and with a poof of confetti and a squee of delight, my mane floofed back out, my face stretched with a big smile, and I jumped up and wrapped Applejack in both hooves, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, Applejack! I know we’re going to be the bestest of besties in no time, flat!”

I felt her hoof patting me on the leg, and heard her wheeze out. “That’s- *cough* That’s great, Pinkie Pie, but could you loosen up, a touch? I . . . I can’t . . . breathe!”

“Oops! Sorry!” I yelped, letting the muscular farm pony go, and she staggered aside for a minute, patting her own chest and wheezing for breath.

“Are you okay, Applejack?”

She nodded, waving me off, and then looked up at me with a bemused grin on her face. “Sure am, Pinkie Pie. That’s a, ah. . . might strong grip, ya got there! I reckon it’d even give my brother a run for his bits, and ain’t many can say that! You got any manual labor in yer background?”

I tapped my hooves together and shrugged. “I, uh . . . I grew up on a rock farm, if that counts?”

“A rock farm?! Well, I’ll be a bull in a china shop! I didn’t know another farm pony had come to town!”

“W-Well, I don’t think rock farming has a lot in common with apple farming!” I said, blushing a touch, but Applejack just grabbed me up and pulled me into a tight hug of her own.

“Ah, that don’t matter none, sugarcube! We farmers gotta stick together, after all! Shucks, y’all are welcome at Sweet Apple Acres, any time, ya hear?!”

I grinned brightly at the farm pony and hugged her back, not so tightly this time around. “Sure thing, Applejack! Thank you! It’s always nice to make a new friend!” I said, and she chuckled.

“I reckon it is. And here I was, just thinkin’ about closin’ up shop for the day, when you came along!”

“Oh, really? The Cakes didn’t even bother opening the Corner up, today. Why are you out here, anyway?”

“Well, today is a day fer spendin’ with family, and, well, family’s always meant a lot to me. Especially recently, what with. . . well . . . “ She drifted off, her smile dying a bit as a sad look came over her face.

“What is it, Applejack?” I asked, and immediately kicked myself. “I- I mean, only if you wanna talk about it! I don’t mean to be a pushy McMeanieface, or anything!” I quickly assured her, worried I had stepped too far again.

She gave me a small, sad smile, waving off my concerns. “Nah, it’s alright, Pinkie Pie. I . . . I mean, it’s been a year, nearly. . . I just . . . It’s still a bit sore, for me, I guess. . . . Ya see, my parents. . . . They, uh . . . “

After a moment of silence, I leaned forward. “Y-Yes?”

She glanced up at me, eyes shining, and then looked away, clearing her throat, and continued, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

“They. . . They, uh . . . passed.”

I stared at her for a long moment, blinking.

“Passed on what?”

She looked up at me, blinking in shock and confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Passed on what? ‘Cause, if it’s the so-called ‘Bargains’ over at Barnyard Bargains, I don’t blame them, really! I mean, that Filthy guy should really think about changing that name, and maybe his own while he’s at it. Seriously, who wants to be called ‘Filthy’, anyway? It’s so-”

“Pinkie!”

I blinked, looking at her. “Yeah, Applejack?”

“You . . . you really don’t get it?”

“Get what?” I asked, tilting my head in confusion.

Applejack swallowed, clearing her throat, and looked away for a long moment. I could see her eyes shining, and her lip quivered for a moment, before she cleared her throat again.

“Are you coming down with a cold, Applejack? If so, I’ve got some lozenges that could help with that!”

She looked at me, and gave a surprised little chuckle, shaking her head, blinking back the wetness I saw in her eyes. “No, Pinkie. No, I don’t have a cold. . . “

“Then what is it?”

“My . . . My parent’s are . . . They . . . .Gah, dangit!”

“What is it, Applejack?”

“Dagnabbit, they’re dead, Pinkie! Okay?!”

I drew back in shock as she glared at me, then turned away, but not before I saw a single tear fall from eye, running down the soft fur of her cheek. I felt a pang in my chest as I realized I had done it again.

“Oh, Applejack! I . . . I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot!” I said, feeling my eyes overflow and tears start rolling down my cheeks, both at my own foolishness and awkwardness, as well as for the orange farm pony’s pain. She turned and looked at me, and frowned in confusion.

“Ah. . . Hey, now, sugarcube . . . .” She said, and I felt her hoof on my chin, lifting my face up to look her in the eyes, and I saw a warmth and kindness in those green orbs that didn’t bury the sadness, but rather seemed to hold it, comfort it.

“Now, it’s alright, y’all hear? It’s . . . It’s just the truth. And I need to be able to come to terms with that, an’ handle it on my own. Like I said, it’s been nearly a year, and . . . Well, I don’t guess it’ll ever really stop hurtin’, but it’s high time I stop lettin’ it get to me, so fierce. Again, y’all didn’t mean any harm.”

I blubbered a bit and shook my head. “B-b-but I’m such a clueless idiot when it comes to other ponies, and you must hate me now, and I just wanna be friends, but all I ever seem to do is mess up!”

She made a soft shushing sound and pulled me into a tight hug. “Now, now, sugarcube, you listen here! Ya didn’t mean no harm, and that’s all that really matters. And the way I see it is, what kinda pony would I be, to hate you for just bein’ your own, true, honest self?”

I sniffled and pulled back, looking up at her. “You . . . You mean that?” I asked, wiping my nose on my hoof, and she smiled at me again.

“I sure do, sugarcube!”

For the second time in as many pages, I jumped up, bursting once more with my customary joy, and hugged her back. It just felt so good, to be accepted as myself, and I couldn’t restrain myself.

“Gah! Pinkie! *Cough!* Choking!”

“Oh! Oopsies!” I said, giggling as I let her go and stepped back.

She waved me off and smiled at me. “That’s fine. What are you doing today, anyway?”

I blinked, remembering again my predicament of the day, and shook my head. “I have no idea! I came out to see if there was anypony in town who wanted to try and have some fun with me, because I don’t have anything to do at the Corner, what with it being closed and all, but there’s not a lot of ponies out and about.”

She tapped her chin, and the smiled. “Well, Pinkie, how about y’all come on back to Sweet Apple Acres with me, then? Granny Smith’ll have supper ready by the time we get there, and there’s always enough food, another mouth won’t go wantin’. Sound good?”

I bit my lip, looking up at her. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a nuisance?” I asked, concerned about over-stepping myself again, but Applejack just shook her head.

“Sugarcube, I done told ya, y’all are welcome any time, and that goes double for when I’m invitin’ ya! So, what do you say?”

I beamed from ear to ear, and nodded, jumping over to stand beside my new friend. “You bet, AJ!”

She tilted her head at me. “AJ, huh? Heh, I kinda like that!”

With that, I helped her hitch up her wagon stall, and we headed out of town, down the road to Sweet Apple Acres, and a dinner I was sure I wouldn’t forget, had with new friends, that I knew I’d be keeping for a long, long time.

Of course, even I couldn’t have predicted nine seasons worth! I figured it’d be over after three, tops! :pinkiehappy::pinkiehappy::pinkiehappy:

* * * * *

THE END

. . . ?

* * * * *

Author's Note

Okay, so . . . That didn’t go how I thought it would! My original intent was to have Pinkie running around town, getting into all sorts of hijinks and hilarious situations with some of the background ponies of Ponyville, before ending her day gelling on the couch at Sugarcube Corner.

I guess this is what happens when you have a story centered on the Real Pink Pony: She’s so random, it even infects the author’s ability to write what he has in mind. I didn’t mean for there to be that much drama in the story, but it just . . . happened. I dunno how else to describe it. It also pretty much wrote itself, so . . . *Shrugs.* Who am I to argue?

Also, in regards to Applejack’s on-again, off-again accent in this, or rather her not quite as insisted upon accent, I grew up in the Oklahoma/Missouri/Texas area, so I know what a true Country accent sounds like. On top of that, I’ve never felt that all the stress a lot of writers put on her accent, spelling it all out with the “Ah’s” and the ‘Fers”, was really needed. We’re all fans of the show here, right? I mean, we all know already what she sounds like, we don’t need that extra help, do we?

Ooh! Ooh! Can I come back again!? This was SO MUCH FUN!!!
Of course you can, Pinkie! Really, I loved writing it, almost as much as you did starring in it!
YIPPEE!!!! *SQUEE* :pinkiehappy:

Anyway, I hope you lot enjoy! Until next time, everypony! Harmonia Aeternum!