Grasshopper Pie

by brokenimage321

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, Original Character, Comedy, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 11246

Pinkie Pie has a secret. Actually, more like FIFTY secrets.

Pinkie Pie has a secret. Actually, more like fifty secrets. 

See, Pinkie isn’t really Pinkie. She’s actually a whole hive of changelings, working in shifts to absorb as much love as they can. Ordinarily, that works out fine for Grasshopper and her sisters--but what happens when somebuggy breaks the rules? 

Note: This story uses colored text for some important bits. Readers with colorblindness or using monochrome displays may have trouble. If it's getting to be too much of a problem, drop me a line, and I'll see what I can do!

Edited by Krack-Fic Kai. Thanks, Friend!

Inb4: Yes, this AU makes no sense and doesn't stand up to scrutiny. But it's a Pinkie Pie story, for Chrysalis's sake. Just enjoy it.

Published 2019-11-15 14:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-11-20 14:52:22 UTC

Chapter 1

“What do you think, Pinkie?”

“Huh?” Pinkie said, looking up. She glanced around the circle, and found everyone else staring at her expectantly.

Immediately, the voices began.

What was the question? Anyone catch the question?

Of course not. She was daydreaming again.

Don’t be so mean, now, she didn’t mean it--it’s hard—

What’s hard is cleaning up after the mess she makes all the time. I don’t know how she—

And, suddenly, a third voice cut in:

Girls, it said, Leave her alone. You’re making it even harder on her.

A split second of blessed silence.

Now, Sweetie, the new voice said, Try again.

Pinkie smiled.

“Sorry, Twi,” she said aloud, “I guess I was just so excited about the party, that I kinda stopped listening…”

She glanced around the outdoor cafe. She was seated at a table with her six friends--Rarity, Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, and, um…

Fluttershy, a voice prompted.

Fluttershy, that’s right. The yellow one was Fluttershy. That's embarassing... you'd think she'd remember by now...

Pinkie turned back to Twilight again. “Can you repeat the question?” she asked.

Twilight rolled her eyes, a little smile quirking her lips. “I said,” she repeated, “I was thinking maybe you could do that cake you mentioned last week--the…” Twilight furrowed her brow. “The, um, super-duper choco surprise….”

Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano, the other voice cut in.

“The Seven-Layer Quadruple Chocolate Deathcano?” Pinkie repeated. She grinned a little. “I have been meaning to try that one. As long as you have those waivers I asked for—!”

Pinkie heard a giggle and a groan inside her own skull, followed by a deeper bass chuckle.

Pinkie glanced furtively around the table. Applejack was shaking her head, Fluttershy was giggling to herself, and Twilight was smiling indulgently. Rainbow was staring up at a passing cloud, while Rarity was inspecting a forehoof.

“Well,” Twilight said, “I think we have the cake settled then--hopefully, she added, with an uneasy look at Pinkie. “Now, onto the main event…”

* * *

Pinkie ducked around the side of the cafe, pressed herself against the wall, and let out a low, long sigh.

The voices began almost immediately.

That was a close one.

We’ve made it through worse.

No closer than a half-dozen other scrapes this week. Trust me, I’ve been listening. And you don’t have much room to talk...

Pinkie peeled herself away from the wall, then started walking home. The chatter inside her brain continued, uninterrupted.

How was I supposed to know that Applejack was going to burst in while I was baking?

Still not a good excuse for how you acted.

I panicked, okay?

And threw a pie at her? Really? That was the best you could think of?

Pinkie passed a pony, with a blue coat and blue-and-white mane. She smiled—

Minuette, prompted one of the voices. Lives in Canterlot. Watchmaker. I wished her “Happy Birthday” when I was on shift last week.

“What day was it?” Pinkie muttered.

Thursday. Four days ago.

“Hi, Minuette!” Pinkie cried. “How’s the four-days-ago birthday filly?”

Minuette’s smile widened. “Hey Pinkie,” she said warmly. “I’m doing alright, thanks for asking.”

“Did your wish come true yet?” Pinkie asked.

“Nah,” Minuette replied. “Not that sort of wish.”

“You got time, then!” Pinkie said brightly. “Say hello to Canterlot for me!”

“I will, Pinkie,” Minuette said. She turned and walked down the street, head held high. Pinkie watched her go.

We’ll have to ask her about Canterlot next time we see her, one of the voices said grumpily.

Might be overkill... but she might appreciate it, too.

Already made a note of it, either way.

“Hush up, will ya?” Pinkie said aloud. “I can’t concentrate with all you going at once.”

Sorry. Going quiet now.

Yeah, didn’t mean it. Sorry.

A brief silence.

We’re waiting, said the voice, irritated.

A groan.

Sorry, the last voice grumbled.

“It’s fine,” Pinkie said. “I just have a couple more errands to run, and you know I can't listen and focus at the same time.”

The voices stayed silent, but she could tell they were still listening.

“I’ll be home soon,” Pinkie said. “See you then.”

* * *

Pinkie sighed, dropped her bags on the floor of her room, and flopped on her bed. She stared at the ceiling for a minute, then turned and looked at her bedside clock. She was actually a few minutes overdue. But still, the bed was so comfy…

She groaned, then rolled out of bed. She walked to the decorative ice-cream cone on the stair railing and pressed the hidden switch. Behind her, the hatch to the Party Cave dropped open. Pinkie walked over and slid her way down to the basement, then took a deep breath of the dank, musty air. She walked over to one of the filing cabinets and, without even having to look, reached out and grabbed the handle on one of the drawers in her teeth--the one labeled Pie, P. D. “Pinkie”.But, instead of pulling the drawer open, she twisted the handle.

The handle rotated ninety degrees and stopped with a quiet click. Pinkie pulled the handle, and the entire front of the filing cabinet swung open on a hinge, revealing a cramped, dark space behind it. On the floor, a narrow stairway, well-worn from use, descended into the rock. Pinkie stepped inside and headed down, pulling the cabinet closed behind her.

A few short steps later, Pinkie stepped into a small, circular chamber. The walls were studded with crystals that glowed pink in the gloom, revealing a series of signs:

ARE YOU DRESSED?

SMILE, SMILE, SMILE

ASK FOR HELP

ALWAYS BE SMILING

MAXIMUM FLOOF

And, beneath a sign bearing a detailed portrait of herself--complete with exact heights, widths, and color palettes--hung one more sign, printed in bright red:

! ! ! NO MATTER WHAT, STAY DISGUISED ! ! !

Standing just underneath that final sign, leaning against the wall of the tunnel leading deeper into the cavern and looking deeply irritated, stood a mare. She had a pink coat, bright blue eyes, a curly mane, and a cutie mark of three balloons. When Pinkie saw her, the other mare rolled her eyes and glanced significantly at the watch she wasn’t wearing.

“Took you long enough,” the other Pinkie said with a growl.

“Sorry,” Pinkie said. “Got sidetracked a little.”

“It’s no big deal,” other-Pinkie said sourly. “It’s not like I still have to figure out how the vermilingua to make a ‘Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano,’ whatever that’s supposed to be.”

Pinkie shrugged. “Milk, dark, and white,” she said. “That’s three chocolates right there.”

Other-Pinkie shook her head. “Oh, please,” she groaned. “White chocolate isn’t real chocolate. You stick to singing, and I’ll handle the cakes.”

Other-Pinkie raised a hoof and held it in the air. Pinkie grinned, then raised her own hoof and clicked it against hers in a high-hoof. There was nothing special about the gesture; it was just something of a tradition that they’d come up with over time. But still, their little ritual flipped a switch in Pinkie’s brain: she was Pinkie no longer. Instead, other-Pinkie had taken the torch.

Other-Pinkie sensed the change, too; her sour attitude fell away, and she smiled brightly. “See you in a few hours, okey dokey lokey?” she said brightly.

Pinkie smiled. “We will. Knock ‘em dead.”

“Hopefully not,” other-Pinkie said, as she turned and started up the stairs. “And, if I do, they’ve already signed the wai-ver—!”

Pinkie chuckled to herself as she watched her go. When she heard the secret door up above open and shut, she turned away, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She felt the rising tide of magic, felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand on end--and, suddenly, she erupted in a flash of pink flame.

Chapter 2

Pinkie Pie--no, Grasshopper --opened her eyes.

The transition between the two parts of her was always a little jarring; some days, it felt like she was so good as Pinkie it was hard to be Hops sometime. Sometimes, coming off-shift felt like she was peeling off her own skin.

But, at the same time, being Pinkie was exhausting. Grasshopper liked the singing, of course--that was her job, after all--but being so cheerful all the time took a lot out of you. Not to mention, all the bouncing…

But she did what she had to. They all did.

Grasshopper turned and walked towards the tunnel that led deeper into the cave. As she did, she glanced at the mirror hanging off a protruding crystal. For just a second, she expected to see Pinkie staring back at her--but no, it was just her again. Glistening black chitin plates, ragged wings, and a dark pink mane that hung straight around her shoulders.

Grasshopper the changeling stopped, turned around once, admiring herself in the mirror, then turned again and headed deeper into the cave. Down towards the rest of the hive.

It was a small hive, by changeling standards; no more than fifty or so individuals at a time. But, then again, they didn’t need armies to survive, unlike some of the other hives. Mama was smarter than that.

Grasshopper passed a small side-cavern and peeked inside. There, a dozen Pinkie Pies stood nervously, staring straight ahead. Even from here, Grasshopper could tell they were new; some were too tall, a few were too short, a couple had mismatched eyes, and one even had an actual pie as her cutie mark. But, stalking through their ranks, eyeing each of them critically, was Mama.

Mama was very tall, and very pretty--black, with a rose-colored shell on her back. She was the Queen of their little hive, but had insisted that everyone call her by the lesser title; “Queen makes me sound old,”she had said. This whole crazy scheme had been her idea, in fact: when she’d found these caves under Ponyville as a little baby Queen, about ten years ago, she knew immediately they would make a good spot for a hive--but it had taken her a long while to figure out how to use them. See, Ponyville wasn’t a big town, by any measure, and, though the residents could be a little oblivious at times, they would definitely notice fifty new ponies moving in all at once. But, Mama had realized, though they would notice fifty newcomers, they wouldn’t bat an eye at one. So, Mama and the few drones she’d brought with her had put their heads together, and, over the course of a couple weeks, come up with the perfect plan.

Instead of each of them impersonating different ponies, they would all work in shifts to impersonate the same one. And, since they wouldn’t be able to absorb as much love from their surroundings as they otherwise might, they couldn’t just do a regular pony off the street--they had to make their imaginary pony as loveable as possible. So, they’d made her a girl--generally, a little easier to get along with. And they made her pink, the least threatening color. They made her a baker, who loved to give out treats and plan parties for others, so people would want to spend time with her. They made her constantly happy, so ponies would smile when they saw her. And they made her an earth pony, which would be a little easier to imitate. And, of course, she had to be just a little eccentric, to help cover up any seams between different changelings.

Finally, they’d capped her off with the most ridiculously “aww”-inspiring name they could think of: Pinkamena Diane Pie, known to her friends as Pinkie.

Back in the cavern, Mama stopped in front of the Pinkie with the pie on her flank. Mama said something, and, in a flash of pink flame, the Pinkie changed; now, she had the balloons on her flank, but she was a few inches too tall. Mama shook her head slowly.

As more and more changelings had been hatched, Mama trained each of them in how to be Pinkie. Of course, each changeling was good at different things: Grasshopper was good at singing, so she was the one who started most of Pinkie’s musical numbers. Danaus--everyone called her “Danni”--had a real head for organization, so she was the one who planned the parties, and who kept all Pinkie’s files in order. And Poppy--Popillia--was the baker. In fact, she was almost certainly the one who was on-shift right now.

Mama had even figured out stuff for the younger changelings to do, until they got really good at impersonating Pinkie. Those who had got Pinkie’s look down, though maybe not her voice or talents, would do small, mundane tasks like sleeping in Pinkie’s bed, or taking her shopping, or manning the counter at Sugarcube Corner. Little things that were hard to mess up, but would give them practice in how to be Pinkie, not to mention the chance to absorb a little love of their own.

And Mama--Mama had her role, too. She didn’t go out too much anymore, but it was Mama who bore the Element of Laughter. It was a good fit, too--she was the one who came up with most of Pinkie’s practical jokes and pranks, though she was pretty good at all the other things, too. She could have run Pinkie all by herself, probably--but she rarely went out any more, preferring to let the younger Changelings take over. And she had a talent for knowing when there would be trouble, and for finding places to stash her Element someplace nearby. She hardly ever needed it, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

Grasshopper smiled to herself. This wasn’t the only non-standard hive in the world--after all, Seaddle had that all-changeling theater troupe, and Las Pegasus supposedly had a pretty good cabaret--but she liked this hive the best. It just felt more honest, living life without having to trick ponies too badly. And, with all the planning and practice they had done, using the Pinkie persona to draw love from the townsfolk was a cinch. Grasshopper had been on shift for only about four hours, and was full enough to last several days.

Oh, to be sure, it wasn’t the best life--it was hard to coordinate all of Pinkie’ silliness, and sometimes there wasn’t quite enough love for everyone to get their fill--but, all things considered, they had a pretty sweet gig going here.

Grasshopper turned and ducked into a small tunnel, so small she almost had to crawl. A few short steps later, and the tunnel opened up again--this time, into a small, round chamber. Close-packed pink crystals jutted out of nearly every surface, packed so tight that the entire chamber glowed pink. Grasshopper shivered; the magic of this place was so powerful, it made her exoskeleton tingle.

Several changelings sat quietly in a line on the floor, each of their horns glowing pink as well; at the end, a tall, thin changeling worker gave Grasshopper a little wave. Grasshopper walked over and sat beside her, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She closed her eyes, and lit her horn.

Instantly, the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner swam into focus behind her eyelids. The image was watery, and slightly distorted, but it was the kitchen, sure enough. Two pink hooves--not her hooves, not any longer--were carefully measuring out cocoa powder into a bowl.

Grasshopper watched for a moment, then bit her lip. She cleared her throat, then spoke. “Isn’t that a little too much cocoa?” she said aloud.

She thought she saw the hooves flinch, for just a moment. But soon, they were back to measuring. A voice spoke in her mind--Pinkie’s voice, but with the faintest echo:

“It’s not called a Seven-Layer Quadruple Chocolate Deathcano for nothing, silly,” Poppy-Pinkie said. “If you want a murder by chocolate, you gotta be willing to crack a few cans of cocoa.”

Grasshopper felt the changeling next to her--Danni--shift uncomfortably. “Do you actually know what you’re doing?” she asked. “Or are you just going to experiment again?”

“Chocolate cakes are like escalators,” Pinkie responded cheerfully. “They’re never ruined. They just become brownies.”

Danni snorted, and Grasshopper cracked a smile. She doused her horn, then leaned over to Danni.

“If she’s just baking, do you think I need to stick around?” she asked. “I mean, she’ll be here for a while…”

Danni opened her eyes, then doused her horn as well. “I… don’t think so,” she said uncertainty. “I mean… usually we like everyone to stick around for a while after their shift, in case she needs your help… but, if she’s just in the kitchen…”

Grasshopper nodded. “I know. It’s, just…”

Danni raised an eyebrow. “Luke?” she asked.

Grasshopper nodded. “Luke,” she repeated.

Danni rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hoof. Grasshopper grinned, then ducked out of the crystal cavern just as Danni lit her horn.

“Hey, Poppy,” Danni said, “Hops just ducked out. If you need something from her, let us know.” She paused. “I know she’s not supposed to, but she—now, Poppy, that’s no way to talk about your sister--”

Grasshopper shook her head fondly, then went to go find her little brother.

Chapter 3

Grasshopper poked her head around the doorway. She watched for a moment, then gingerly stepped inside.

“Hey, Lukey,” she said gently, “How you doing?”

Lucanus--Luke, Lukey, Lil’ Luke, or a dozen other nicknames--pulled his thin blanket over his head. “Fine,” he lied.

Grasshopper smiled. The cave was warm in the winter and cool in the summer, so blankets weren’t really necessary. Just something nice to comfort the little ones. Even so, Luke had held onto his blankie a little longer than most deemed proper. And, to cap it off, it was too short. Now that he’d pulled it up over his head, his back hooves stuck out the bottom--along with the tips of his oversized wings.

“Your wings look like they’re coming in nicely,” Grasshopper said.

Luke pressed his wings close to his body. He hesitated a second, then rolled on his side, hiding them against the wall.

Grasshopper watched him for a second, then took a deep breath. She sat down on the pile of straw that served for his mattress, then started rubbing his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” he replied. A second later, he shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe.”

Grasshopper smiled a little. Every changeling in the hive were siblings (after all, they all shared a single Mama) but Grasshopper had always had a special sort of bond with little Luke. Oh, sure, everyone was fond of him--with a hive this small, every grub was precious--but Luke was different. He was a Drone. A boy.

Every other changeling in the hive, except for Mama herself, was a worker--a girl, but a girl that couldn’t have babies. That was how it was supposed to be. Could you imagine the chaos if anyone could run off and start having larvae of their own anytime they wanted? Nevertheless, every so often, Mama laid a special egg. Luke was one of those: he was a Drone. A boy. And that made him special.

Luke had just had his first molt a few months ago. He was barely getting out of grub-hood, and he looked it. He stood about half of Hops’s own height, even on tip-hoof. And he was adorable, to boot--but just don’t let him hear you say that.

“You wanna go on a walk?” Grasshopper said.

Luke hesitated, then peeked over his hooves. “Outside?” he asked cautiously.

Grasshopper smiled. “In the woods? Sure.”

Luke deflated the slightest bit. “Oh. Sure,” he said, sullenly.

Though the Hive had very strict rules about who could disguise themselves as Pinkie, and when, the rules were a little more lax regarding other ponies. Changelings who wanted to go get a milkshake together, for example, could parade through town as a pair of visiting tourists from Canterlot, or Dodge Junction, or even places further-flung than that. However, you still had to have Mama’s permission. Grubs, who could barely hold a form other than their own for a few seconds, weren’t allowed outside at all until after their first or second molt. And even then, they had to go with an adult. Until they could prove they’d mastered their transforming, the only real place to go was to visit the outskirts of the Everfree forest, outside the back entrance to the hive.

The two of them walked back into the main chamber, then towards the tunnel that led to the exit tunnel. Mama, still inspecting the ranks of newbies, shot Grasshopper a look. Hops responded by giving a significant nod towards Luke, then towards the exit. Mama rolled her eyes, but went back to her work.

The exit tunnel wasn’t as nice as the other tunnels, but then again, it wasn’t supposed to be. It shot off horizontally through the rock, slowly growing narrower as it did, until the two of them could barely walk side-by-side. Then, suddenly, they passed the pinch, and the tunnel widened out again into a dirt tunnel. A few scraggly vines and roots grew through the ceilings and floors, and a couple enterprising spiders had even spun webs across the empty space. And the entire place just smelt icky, like old mud.

And yet, this was the only exit from the Hive that didn’t empty out in Ponyville. When someone needed a little air, this is where they went. But even here, there were rules…

Luke and Grasshopper walked down the tunnel towards the exit, side-by-side, At some unseen signal, both of them transformed in flashes of pink flame: him into a little colt with a golden coat, she, a mare with a curly forest-green mane.

Had to stay disguised, after all, even out here. You never could tell...

A little while later, the tunnel turned sharply upward. Hops helped Luke clamber up out of the tunnel first, then hoisted herself up afterwards. She shook the dirt off her coat, then looked around. They appeared to be alone. Good.

Hops turned to Luke, only to find him inspecting a small bunch of wildflowers, growing in a patch of sunlight that somehow made it down through the forest leaves above. He leaned down, took a deep sniff--then squawked in alarm and scrambled backwards as the flowers exploded into color.

Grasshopper jumped, too--but then started to laugh. Luke turned to scowl at her, then followed her gaze--and stared at the spots of color flying around their small clearing in wonder.

“What are those things?” he asked, mystified.

“They’re butterflies, silly,” Hops said. “Your wildflowers have some visitors.”

“What are they doing?”

Hops shrugged. “They like to eat the flowers, I think.”

Luke stuck out his tongue. “I don’t think they’d taste very good, though…”

Hops shook her head. “Nah… but they do smell nice.”

“Yeah,” Luke admitted.

Hops shook her head, then trotted off down the narrow path. Luke watched the butterflies for a moment longer, then hurried after her.

After a few minutes’ walking, Luke looked up at Hops, his brow furrowed uncertainly.

“Hops?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Why are they so bright?”

Hops looked back at him. “Why’s what so bright?”

He nodded back over his shoulder. “The butterflies,” he said. “They were all bright orange. Most other bugs try and blend in. But the butterflies, they stand out. Why’s that?”

Hops shrugged. “I dunno,” she admitted. “Danni said that she read somewhere that they don’t taste good. So they’re trying to warn things that might wanna eat them to stay away.”

Luke frowned. “So they’re drawing attention to themselves… so they don’t get eaten?”

“I guess,” Hops replied.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he insisted. “You have to hide to be safe. That’s what Mama says.”

“Yeah,” Hops admitted. “But, I dunno… maybe the rules are different for butterflies.”

Luke didn’t answer, and they walked on in quiet for another few minutes. But it was a confused, contemplative silence--the sort of quiet that, Hops knew, meant Luke was still trying to figure out the contradiction.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes longer, before Hops shot a wary glance at Luke.

“So,” she said casually, “everything okay?”

Luke nodded without looking at her.

“Getting enough love? Anyone picking on you?”

Luke nodded yes to the first question, then shook his head no to the second.

“Then what’s got you down?” she asked.

Luke hesitated, then looked up--not at her, but out through the woods. Hops followed his gaze--and her blood ran cold.

They were standing at the edge of the forest. There, through the last few lines of trees, stood the outskirts of Ponyville.

“Luke…” she said carefully, turning to watch him. “You know what Mama said…”

“I know,” Luke whined, “But…”

“But nothin’,” Hops interrupted. “We gotta stay disguised. If you go out there, and ponies start asking questions…”

“I know, I know,” Luke moaned. “We could all get in trouble.”

Luke had already molted once. And, by all indications, he was getting pretty good at his transformations. But, no matter how often he asked, Mama refused to coach him on how to be Pinkie Pie, and wouldn’t let him go up and explore Ponyville. It was for his own good, she said--and, to be honest, most of his sisters would agree.

Being in disguise was dangerous. It was far too easy to do or say the wrong thing, and get nervous, and almost drop your transformation. Besides, Luke didn’t need to learn how to transform. He was a Drone, not a worker. He had a different job, a very special job. One day, Mama said, he would take those big ol' wings of his and fly somewhere far away to do--well, whatever his job was. Mama had hinted that it had something to do with birds or bees--but had also dodged the question anyone tried to ask her for specifics. In any case, Mama made it clear that there would always be somebuggy around to take care of him, either one of his sisters in this hive, or someone else wherever he ended up. So, there was no need to learn how to blend in, especially not in a town so small as Ponyville.

That still didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Let’s go,” Grasshopper said, turning away from Ponyville. “I don’t mind walking with you through the woods, but we can’t be out here like this. Not while somepony could see…”

“What’s it like?” Luke blurted.

“Huh?” Hops asked, turning back to him.

Luke still stood on the edge of the woods, staring at the town. He had a desperate, hungry look in his eyes, the sort of hunger that had nothing to do with his stomach. He must have felt the weight of her gaze, because he turned and looked at her.

“What’s Ponyville like?” he repeated. “We live right under it, and I’ve never been… everyone else gets to go, and they won’t let me…”

“Yeah… but you get to see it in the cave, don’t you?”

Luke looked away. “Yeah, but… it’s not the same,” he whined.

Hops bit her lip. It probably wasn’t, to be fair. Part of the magic of the crystal cave allowed any changelings who might be watching to absorb a little of the love picked up by whoever was on shift. Made it so no one starved, not even those who were too sick to go out, or those who hadn’t gotten their Pinkie Pie transformation down pat yet.

“And besides,” she continued, “you’re special. You’re a drone. We wanna make sure nothing bad’s going to happen to you…”

And that was why Luke, more than any of the others, spent time in the crystal cave. She had always been slightly envious--he never had to work the counter during a boring shift, or compose a grand musical number on the fly… and yet, it had never occurred to Grasshopper just how lonely a life like that could be. Always staying at home, watching everyone else go out and have fun, surviving on the few crumbs of affection that they might spill on their way home...

Grasshopper pushed the thought out of her mind.

“Besides,” she added, “you get to go on your big trip when you grow up! None of us get to do that.”

That mysterious, magical trip Mama was always hinting at, where he would fly far away, and find a Queen, and then… um...

“...yeah…” Luke said, turning longingly back to Ponyville. “But I don’t want to go flying away. I want to be like you. I want to go and meet ponies, and get to know them, and…”

He trailed off. Grasshopper swallowed.

“Luke, I promise I’ll tell you all about it,” she said slowly, “but you have to come inside. Okay?”

Luke took a deep breath, then let it out. “...okay,” he said, turning away from Ponyville again. “You promise?”

“I promise,” she said, coaxingly. “As soon as we get you back to your room, I’ll tell you everything…”

Chapter 4

Pinkie--no, Grasshopper--allowed herself a contented sigh. All things considered, today had been a good day.

“How’d I do, girls?” she whispered under her breath.

You did alright, Poppy admitted, but what was with that tourist?

The gluten-free, sugar-free, low-fat hippie from Californeigh? Danni replied. Different strokes, I suppose. The real question is, though--why in Equestria did you have a batch of exactly those sort of cupcakes lying around?

I like a challenge, Poppy said defensively. What I want to know is, how in Equestria do you expect any of us to find anypony’s orders in those files of yours?

Are you seriously telling me you can’t figure out a simple alphabetic, reverse chronological filing system? Danni snapped.

“Girls, girls,” Hops whispered. “It’s okay. I found Whirligig’s order in time.”

With Danni’s help, Poppy muttered.

Oh, knock it off, you two, Mama cut in. Hops is on her way home. Let’s try and save the drama until after she gets back, okay?

Okay ...

No problem.

Okay then, Mama said. I’m going to go and get Katy ready. Be safe.

And Grasshopper felt a little light go out of her mind as Mama left the cave.

Grasshopper let out a long, slow sigh. It was only noon, but today had been a long day. She had her shift, of course, which had been hard enough on its own--aside from the drama with the cupcakes and the lost order form, Mrs. Cake had asked her organize and sweep up the storage pantry--and fifty-pound bags of sugar and flour were no joke (she had, of course, taken a few minutes to sing with the broom like a microphone, but that was just for fun).

But even after she had finished at the bakery, she still had more to do: Cynthia, back at the hive, needed more paints for a banner for somepony’s birthday that was coming up, and Hattie had asked for some tape to hang another poster in Pinkie’s room--so she had to run by the craft store on top of everything. But now she was headed home, the bottles of paint clinking cheerfully together in her saddlebags, and looking forward to a nice, long nap. Maybe even a little bath, if the underground hot springs weren’t too busy…

In the back of her mind, her sisters were chatting amiably.

Who did Mama say was on next? Katy?

Yep. She’s going shopping for flowers to spruce up the place.

Lucky. Last shift, I had to watch the store for six hours. On a Tuesday morning.

Ooh... boring?

I’ve seen cemeteries that were more lively...

And then, Grasshopper heard a sharp intake of breath.

Waitasecond, Danni cut in. Hops, what was that? Did you see that?

“Yeah,” Hops breathed, a sudden tension in her gut.

She had just passed a side-street filled with ponies, like a dozen others in Ponyville. At the last moment, however, a flash of color had caught her eye--a terrifyingly familiar color, one that shook her to her core.

Grasshopper steeled herself, then turned to get a proper look. For a long moment, she stared wordlessly at what she saw, her mouth slowly falling open.

Uh-oh, Danni said.

There, partway down the side-street, stood a second Pinkie Pie, watching her with wide, guilty eyes.

What are you waiting for? hissed Poppy. Get her!

Hops took a purposeful step forward--and the impostor turned and ran. Grasshopper snarled and gave chase.

The other Pinkie was good--no denying that. She ducked and weaved with the best of them. But Grasshopper was better. Everytime other-Pinkie tried to juke her, Hops was right on her tail. For Hops, it was almost like the world fell away--there was only her, the fluffy pink pony she was chasing, and the blood pounding in her ears.
And then, she found her opportunity.

The impostor tried to make a break for it behind Quills and Sofas. And she might have gotten away with it, too--if somepony wasn’t walking past at just that moment, their cart piled high with crates. After an instant of hesitation, Hops leapt from the ground to the wagon, from the wagon to the crates, and from the crates to the rooftop in three fluid jumps. She ran to the edge of the roof and scanned the alley behind the shop--and there she was. Crouched behind a row of trash cans, watching for her pursuer.

Hops growled and leapt.

The impostor didn’t have a chance. Grasshopper knocked her flat, then hauled her to her hooves and slammed her against the wall.

“Who are you? What are you doing?” Hops snarled. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here!”

Other-Pinkie swallowed, then shook her head.

“You tell me right now,” hissed Grasshopper, “Or you’ll wish you stayed home!”

Other-Pinkie tried to kick at her, but Hops was standing too close.

“You fess up…” Grasshopper snarled, then leaned in close. “Or I’ll tell Mama on you,” she hissed, her voice dripping with menace.

The impostor’s eyes widened. She hesitated, then opened her mouth…

“Pinkie?” someone asked, incredulously. “What are you doing?”

Both Grasshopper and Other-Pinkie turned to look at the newcomer. Twilight Sparkle stared back at them, head cocked to one side.

Grasshopper goggled at her, then released the impostor and took a step backwards. Other-Pinkie, for her part, dusted herself off and tried to look innocent.

“Hi, Twilight,” Grasshopper said slowly, her mind racing. “I--we—uh, we--”

“We’re just... out exploring,” Other-Pinkie volunteered.

“Exploring,” Twilight repeated flatly.

“Yeah, exploring,” Grasshopper said, shooting the impostor a look. “Out in the Everfree. You know how weird that place is…”

“And... you found something that made you… two of you?” Twilight said slowly.

“Yep!” Other-Pinkie replied. “Ancient ponish curse, all that. You know how it goes!”

“In fact,” Grasshopper said, pointedly taking Other-Pinkie by the arm, “we were just going to go see Zecora, see if she had any ideas that could get us back to normal!”

“Uh huh,” said Twilight, nodding slowly. “So… what does that have to do with all that?”

“With what?” the impostor asked.

“That,” Twilight repeated, nodding back over her shoulder. “Back there.”

And then, Grasshopper noticed that the adrenaline coursing through her was starting to wear off. And, as her head began to clear, the images that had been trying to get her attention for several minutes now finally reasserted themselves. With a growing dread in the pit of her stomach, Grasshopper leaned around Twilight and looked back at the way she had come.

Behind Twilight stood a small crowd of ponies, eyeing the two Pinkie Pies with a mix of confusion and anger. As Grasshopper watched them, she grimaced. There was the owner of that fruit cart that the Other-Pinkie had knocked over, and that Hops had vaulted without a second thought. And there was the small knot of ponies the impostor had ducked behind, and whose backs Hops had run across to try and catch her. And there was the pony who had been holding all those packages--and that was the driver of that cart of manure—

And Grasshopper realized, as her stomach sunk down to her hooves, that half of Ponyville had just seen her chase her own doppelganger through the town square in broad daylight.

Grasshopper wanted to puke. Instead, she forced a funny smile.

“Oh, we just got away from ourselves a little, that’s all,” she said.

“Y’see?” volunteered the impostor, her voice shaking a little. “Got away from ourselves? Like a pun?”

Grasshopper grabbed Other-Pinkie, hard, by the elbow. “Now let’s go see about that potion, me!” she said, her voice brittle as glass. “Then we’ll come back and say we’re sorry and all that. Okay?”

The impostor nodded mutely, but Twilight shifted uneasily.

“Okay, I guess,” she said. “But, just so you know, there’s a lot of ponies waiting for an explanation…”

“We’ll be back soon! Promise!” said the impostor. “Cross our hearts and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in our—!”

Grasshopper jabbed an elbow in the other’s ribcage, and she fell silent. Hops turned and waved at those behind her, then goose-stepped Other-Pinkie down the alley, and into a side street.

“That was close—” the impostor began

Without warning, Grasshopper shoved the impostor up against the wall. “What the cordyceps are you thinking?” she hissed. “I’m on shift right now! And what did you run through half of Ponyville for?”

The impostor just scowled.

“You have ten seconds to tell me exactly what’s going on,” Grasshopper hissed, “or I’ll beat you so black-and-blue it’ll show through your shell. I don’t care if you are my sister.”

The impostor shot her a poisonous look. “I’m not your sister,” she spat.

Grasshopper blinked. “Huh?”

The impostor sighed, then closed her eyes. Before Grasshopper could so much as think, the impostor exploded in a burst of pink flame. Grasshopper blinked, then looked down at the pony she was pinning against the wall--and saw, glaring up at her with a mixture of guilt and fury, her little brother Luke.

Chapter 5

One of the things that Grasshopper liked most about her hive is that it was always busy. There was always something going on, always something needing to be done, and always changelings running around doing them. There was always a cheerful order to the busyness, everyone with a task, a route, and a destination, moving about in a sort of contented buzz that, to Grasshopper, just felt like home.

This was the first time she had ever seen a genuine riot.

Every changeling in the surging black mob was screaming all at once:

“Mama! Help us!”

“They know about us, Mama!”

“What do we do? What do we do?!?”

“What’s gonna happen to us? Are they gonna get us?”

“Mama! Mama!!”

At the heart of the teeming mass of changelings stood Mama herself, as frightened and helpless as the rest of them. She looked around, lost, her wings buzzing in fear and agitation.

Grasshopper shot a withering look at Luke, who drooped his head and looked away. The two of them were sitting, side-by-side, in a little out-of-the-way niche at the back of the chamber, watching the chaos. Grasshopper had half a mind to lecture Luke, but the scene before him was punishment enough--at least for now.

“I’m sorry,” Luke murmured. “I just wanted to see what Ponyville was like--really like. I-I’ve been practicing my transformations for a while… and I was thinking—”

“No,” Grasshopper said sourly, “no, you weren’t thinking. Otherwise you wouldn’t have run through the town square like that. Or at least not disguised as Pinkie!”

Luke took a deep breath, then looked away. Grasshopper watched him for a moment, then huffed and turned back to the rest of the chamber.

She happened to look back just in time to see it happen: one of the smaller workers managed to jump on top of someone’s back, then hop from her back to someone else’s shoulder, then to someone else’s head--and from there, to lunge at Mama. She was probably trying to hug her around the neck, ask her to hold her and tell her it was all okay, but if that’s what she was trying, her trajectory was slightly, horrifingly off. Instead of wrapping her arms around her neck, the worker struck Mama’s horn with one of her hooves.

A sharp crack echoed through the chamber. Mama doubled up as white-hot streaks of pain arced down into her skull, through her neck, and into her chest. Every one of her children felt the pain--or at least the dull edge of it, scraping down their spines--followed by a wave of intense nausea and disorientation.

For perhaps two minutes, there was no sound in the chamber except labored breathing, and the occasional whimper of pain and fear. Finally, Mama straightened up, took a deep, trembling breath, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“That’s it, then,” she said, her voice low and raspy. “We’ve had a good run of it, everyone, but we’ve been found out. We can’t come back from this. Too many ponies saw.” She swallowed. “We’re not safe here. Not anymore. We need to move on.”

It was a sign of the feeling in the room that no one spoke.

Mama took a few more ragged breaths as she looked around. “It’s too bad we’re leaving our friends behind, but we can’t risk the safety of our family for them. I need to worry about us, first.” She swallowed uneasily. “We need some scouts to head out, now,” she said. “Find another cave system for us. Maybe near the Crystal Empire--they have lots of love to spare. We need others to start sealing off the entrances. And we need a few to figure out how to transport the grubs without letting them catch cold.”

Grasshopper turned to look mournfully at Luke--only to find him already staring at her, his eyes wide and shining.

“The rest of you,” Mama continued, “start packing whatever we need to travel. And we’ll need someone to start disenchanting the crystal cave…”

And suddenly, as Grasshopper looked at Luke, something she had said to him echoed back into her mind:

Butterflies.

“Butterflies!” Grasshopper cried, leaping to her hooves.

Everyone in the cavern turned to look at her.

“Grasshopper?” Mama asked curiously.

“The rules are different for butterflies,” Grasshopper insisted.

Mama frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Grasshopper shook her head. The ideas were coming so fast, it was hard to keep them all straight—

“We can’t hide,” she said. “And we can’t run away. Where else are we going to find another place to live like this?”

“But we can’t stay,” someone whined.

“Yes we can!” Grasshopper insisted. “But first we have to show our colors. We have to be butterflies.”

“Grasshopper, slow down,” Mama said. “You’re not making any sense.”

Grasshopper took a deep breath.

“We told Twilight there was a magical place in the woods,” she said, trying to contain her growing excitement. “A place where we could copy ourselves. It was her idea, actually. That’s why there were two Pinkies--because of the magic.” She leaned forward and buzzed her wings. “But what if we used the magic again?” she asked. “What if there were more Pinkies?”

Mama’s face went slack, and a ripple of uncertainty passed through the assembled changelings. Grasshopper’s face fell. She knew what she had wanted to say--but how do you make something so risky and stupid sound like a good idea?

And then, Mama’s eyes widened, and she started to nod.

* * *

“Alright, everybuggy, listen up!” Mama roared.

The ready room, the little alcove at the base of the stairs leading up to the secret passage in the Party Cave, was not designed to hold more than about ten changelings, tops. All fifty or so changelings in the hive had squeezed in.

“You know the plan,” Mama continued. “Get out there, and cause as much chaos as you can!”

All the changelings were disguised as Pinkie. Some of them were too tall, and some too short. Some were the wrong shade of pink, and some of their manes weren’t curling just right. But that was the point.

“But don’t hurt anypony,” Mama said. “We want them to laugh, maybe feel sorry, but not get angry!”

Even though she hadn’t been able to put it into words, Grasshopper had hit on a fundamental truth: two Pinkie Pies was a problem. Fifty was a crisis.

“Get out there and do your worst! The Hive is depending on you!”

Two Pinkies were an oddity--something that needed to be investigated and understood. But fifty Pinkies--well. The investigation could wait. And, in the meantime, there was a lot you could do to delay and distract and reassure everyone that you were the exact same pony they’d always known.

Or one of the fifty, at least.

Mama looked around the ready room, and spotted the sign next to the portrait of Pinkie. “Stay disguised,” she read aloud. She shot an arc of pink lightning at it, and it exploded in a shower of smoking splinters, which rained down on the assembled Pinkie Pies.

“Stay disguised,” Mama repeated disdainfully. “Screw it. Break your disguise,” she commanded. “Break it as hard as you can. Break out of your disguise like your life depends on it--” Her eyes glittered with cold fire. “Because it actually might.”

Chapter 6

“Fun! Fun! Fun!” came the echoing cry, from fifty identical mouths.

Actually, forty-nine, to be exact.

Twilight shot a wary glance through the curtains of the library at the chaos outside, then turned back to the others.

“So you’re telling us that there’s a magical… mirror pool in the forest?” Twilight said carefully.

“Uh-huh,” Grasshopper said urgently.

“And that you used it to make another one of you, so the two of you could have more fun?” she continued.

“Such a waste,” Rarity said, half to herself. “With all the sewing I need to do, I could always use a couple extra hooves, but she doesn’t want to miss a party and—”

Twilight shot her a dirty look.

“What should we do?” Twilight asked Grasshopper.

At that second, a shriek came from outside. All of them crowded close to the windows: it seemed like three or four of the Pinkies had nearly bowled over Roseluck in their enthusiasm, and were now bounding off for new adventures, leaving cries of “Fun! Fun! Fun!” on the wind.

Grasshopper swallowed nervously. “I dunno,” she managed, in the most Pinkie-Pie voice she could muster. “Aren’t you the pony who comes up with all the good ideas?”

Twilight somehow managed to look both insulted and pleased at once. “Well…” she said slowly, “the first thing we need to do is to find the real one, wherever she is.”

“I’m real,” Grasshopper piped up. As real as any of the rest, she added silently.

Applejack rolled her eyes. “We know you think you’re real,” she said. “But we gotta be sure you’re the real real Pinkie.”

“But I am,” Grasshopper whined.

Twilight tapped her chin with her hoof thoughtfully. “What if we set up a test?” she asked aloud. “Like… we could come up with the most boring thing we could think of, then see which of the Pinkies can sit through it?”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Sounds good,” she said.

“Of course,” Twilight continued, “what would we do with the rest of them…?” She raised one eyebrow. “Maybe I should just blast them, make sure they don’t come back…”

Fluttershy gasped, and Grasshopper leapt forward.

“Nononono,” she insisted, even as her gut turned to ice, “don’t do that—they’re harmless….”

From outside, came a fresh batch of panicked screams, and, of course, the chant of “Fun! Fun! Fun!”

Grasshopper cringed, and Twilight frowned at her.

Hops counted to three, then plastered a shining smile on her face and looked up at Twilight.

“We don’t want to do that,” she said. “Too much effort! Besides, cooping all of them up in one place… can you imagine?”

Twilight’s eye twitched, and she shot a reflexive look out the window.

“Exactly,” Grasshopper continued. “So what we should do instead is…” Grasshopper looked furtively around the library, searching for an answer. “...is...um…”

And then she saw it, sitting on top of a small pile of books at the foals’ table: an illustrated copy of The Pied Piper of Hanover.

“Quick!” Grasshopper blurted. “I need a trombone! And an accordion! And a tuba!!”

Her sudden energy made the others jump.

“Darling,” Rarity said, “whatever has gotten into you?”

“I know how to stop them!” she cried. “If I can play them some music, then I can lead them back to the pool! And then I can use another one of Granny Pie’s rhymes to make them all go away!!”

Applejack frowned. “Didn’t you try that with those parasprites a while back?”

“Enh,” Grasshopper said with a dismissive wave. “They’re pink and fluffy, I’m pink and fluffy, it’s all the same.” She looked around at the others, staring back at her in mixed surprise and confusion. “Go!” Grasshopper barked. “We don’t have all day!”

Twilight looked around herself. “As good an idea as any,” she said, giving Grasshopper an uneasy look. “Let’s go find those instruments… and, heck, maybe even a band to go with them…”

“Yeah!” Grasshopper added. “And bring ‘em back here! I’ll stay here, hold down the fort and all that.”

Grasshopper smiled brightly as, one by one, the other ponies filed out. As soon as Twilight closed the door behind her, Grasshopper let out a long, slow sigh.

“How’d I do, Mama?” she asked, into the sudden quiet of the library.

That was incredible, Hops, came the reply. Sorry I couldn’t help--I have my hooves full coordinating everyone else.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I think it worked out.”

Me too, Mama said, with a sigh of relief. I’ll pass the message along: when they see you parading through town, fall in line, and follow you out to the woods.

“Thanks, Mama,” Grasshopper said. She smiled to herself, then looked around the library. “Now I just have to figure out how I’m supposed to play a trombone and a trumpet at the same time…”

That’s my Hops, Mama said fondly. Don’t worry about the instruments--I think we have someone else in the Hive who can play them. For now, just sit back and rest a little--you deserve it.

And with that, the slight pressure of Mama’s presence on her mind faded away. Grasshopper let out a heavy sigh, then lowered herself to the floor.

* * *

“Fun! Fun! Fun!”

Grasshopper bounced through the forest with the rest of the Pinkies, chanting in time with the others. Even though she was at the very end of the line, she should still hear her sister Gryllus--who, as it turned out, at least knew what end of a brass instrument to blow into--was leading the line with a tune of her own designing. Mama had called her back to the library, and the two of them had switched places while no one else was looking.

Twilight and her friends paced alongside the line, watching with more than a little trepidation. Grasshopper felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile, even as she was mid-chant: her crazy, stupid plan had worked. The goal was, in so many words, to be peak Pinkie--and, by all accounts, they were buying it hook, line, and sinker.

Eventually, the line ahead of Grasshopper stopped moving, and she, like the others, just started hopping in place, still chanting:

“Fun! Fun! Fun!”

Ever so faintly, Grasshopper could hear Twilight ask the question:

“This is the right spot?”

Gryllus kept on playing. Presumably, she had answered with a nod, because, after a pause, Twilight continued:

“And you know how to turn them all back?

Another pause.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” she asked. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just… I feel like we need to make sure this is done right.”

Yet another pause.

“Well,” Twilight said uncertainly, “I guess we’ll wait here for you to finish, then we’ll seal the tunnel.” She hesitated a half-second. “Try and be quick,” she added. “This place gives me the creeps…”

Again, Grasshopper couldn’t hear the reply. But, after a moment, the music dimmed, and the line started moving again. Gryllus had apparently gone underground, and the others were starting to follow her. Grasshopper bounced forward with the rest of the Pinkies, and, eventually, the entrance to the “mirror cave” drew into sight--in reality, the back entrance to the hive.

Grasshopper stopped at the threshold, waiting for the Pinkie in front of her to clear out of the way. As she hopped in place, she risked a glance around her--and saw, once again, the faces of the friends that didn’t suspect a thing.

It was almost enough to make her want to break out into song.

Grasshopper noticed, with a jolt, that she had been hopping in place for several seconds, and that the line of Pinkies had vanished deeper into the cave. She let out an involuntary nervous giggle, waved to the assembled friends watching her, then hopped in the hole.

Grasshopper kept up the hopping and the chanting until after she passed the pinch in the tunnel. Only then did she let her tired legs rest, though she kept up the fun-fun-fun chant for a few more steps for the benefit of anyone who might still be listening.

As the tunnel began to widen again, Hops’s ears pricked up. Ahead, she could hear the warm, familiar murmur of the hive that she had so looked forward to for her entire life. It was a warm sound--a happy sound--a home sound. So different than the screaming of a few hours ago.

Grasshopper emerged, blinking, into the light of the hive’s central cavern--and the air erupted into applause. Hops blinked and looked around, and saw every changeling in the hive clapping their hooves together, hooting and hollering and cheering and chirping, in the way only a hive of changelings could. Grasshopper took a half-step backwards in surprise--then her face broke into a wide grin.

“Alright everybuggy, that’s enough,” called Mama, as she made her way through the crowd towards Grasshopper. The applause died down almost immediately. “Those ponies are still waiting outside, and we don’t want ‘em to hear us. I’ll head out and send them away, and we can go from there.”

Grasshopper turned and started walking towards the sleeping caverns--after today, there was nothing she wanted more than a nap. But before she could get far, Mama pulled her in for a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered in her ear. “It’s a shame you were born a worker--you would have made an excellent Queen.”

And before she could respond, Mama slipped away from her, down the exit tunnel behind her. Grasshopper turned to watch her go, but found she couldn’t speak. She sniffled once or twice, then dabbed at her eyes, before she felt the presence of those standing just behind her. She turned and saw Danni, and Poppy, and Luke standing there, watching her with smiles on their faces.

“Doing alright?” Danni asked.

Grasshopper sniffled again, then nodded.

Luke stepped forward and took her in for a hug. Grasshopper let out a little gasp, then hugged him back. Another second or two, and Danni and Poppy joined in, each squeezing her tight.

Chapter 7

Grasshopper would have buzzed her wings happily--if she wasn’t already in disguise, that is.

“That was a lot of fun, wasn’t it?” she asked the others. All four of them murmured in agreement.

“I especially liked the pancakes,” Luke put in.

Mama scoffed. “We noticed,” she said. “How many plates did you have? Four?”

“Oh, don’t blame him too much,” Danni said. “I had a couple, too.”

“The pie was alright,” Poppy added. “I’m just glad we didn’t have to pay for it.”

The five of them walked, side by side, down the Manehattan sidewalk--disguised, of course. Grasshopper knew they were drawing more than a few dirty looks, but she didn’t care. To her, it felt like she was walking on clouds.

When Rarity had first asked for their help in opening her boutique--via Millie, who had been on shift at the moment--the Hive hadn’t been sure how to respond. Sure, they probably should help out… but this would be their first time travelling so far away! How were they going to handle things, without a convenient hive to retreat to? And what were the rest going to do for food while they were gone?

As it turns out, they needn’t have worried--not too much, anyways. Mama had picked the four most promising Pinkie impersonators--including, to his everlasting pride, little Luke himself--and they had made the trip together. Whenever anyone needed a break, they’d just duck into a convenient bathroom or something, and they’d make the switch there.

The experiment had been a resounding success--especially since, as it turned out, Rarity needed a lot more help with her store than she’d let on. When that same fact started to dawn on all the others, Pinkie--or, to be more precise, Luke--revealed that she just so happened to know a team of four interior decorators that could help out on short notice. And all five of them had discovered that relief, gratitude, and admiration were almost as tasty as love itself.

The interview with the journalist had been the cherry on top, though. One of them at a time had to sit still and answer his questions, while the other four--scattered, in different disguises, throughout the diner--spent their time making jokes at his expense and coming up with even more outlandish answers to his inevitable questions. And then, of course, every few minutes, Pinkie would excuse herself to the bathroom, letting someone else tag in. And, if the journalist noticed that Pinkie always seemed to have a freshly-ravenous appetite after she returned from the bathroom, he politely kept that observation to himself.

Meanwhile, Mama had given the rest of the hive an assignment. They needed to dig a new exit tunnel anyways, since they'd blocked off the old one--and, while they were already doing that, it wouldn’t be too much harder to dig another tunnel to the basement of one of the vacant houses on the outskirts of Ponyville. So Mama had asked everybuggy she left behind to start brainstorming for another new pony or two they could imitate. Maybe a cute little couple? Maybe they could make one of them a unicorn this time, just for variety's sake. And Mama was so fond of the colors mint green and cream… perhaps they could work those in to their designs, somehow?

“By the way,” Mama said, interrupting her thoughts. “Did anyone else notice that Rarity dropping hints about the mirror pool?”

“I did,” Luke chirped. “Good thing they sealed up the tunnel!”

“Even better thing no one noticed you when you forgot to change out of Pinkie that one time,” Poppy cut in. “What happened, did you just forget after you handed her off to me?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I got a little distracted by the vending machine in the girls' bathroom...”

“Luke,” Mama said, a warning tone in her voice, “do you even know what’s in those things?”

“No,” he said.

“Me neither,” Mama replied with a smile.

And all five of them broke into a laugh.

Grasshopper grinned to herself, then happily looked around at the others, all of them in disguise as different ponies. Everyone had chosen their own design, but it was clear they shared a lineage: Mama’s brown mane had Pinkie’s curl to it, while Danni had her bright-blue eyes, and Luke--dressed as a little colt--had taken her pink coat, though he’d added a spiky, gold mane to try and look a little less girly. It was all very brave and daring and exciting--exploring a brand-new city with her family, flaunting little bits of the disguise that had made them so successful...

Grasshopper’s smile widened, and she felt a song rising in her throat. Life was perfect. Life was grand. Life couldn’t be better. Not even if—

“Watch out!”

Grasshopper slammed into somepony. She squawked in alarm, he shouted something unintelligible, and both of them tumbled backwards as packages and bags rained down around them.

“Are you okay, mister?” Luke cried as he rushed forward.

“Here, let me help you…” Mama said, beginning to gather up their spilled things.

Danni and Poppy helped Grasshopper back to her hooves, as she shook her head to try and make the world stop spinning.

“Thou shouldst take greater care where thou walkest,” the stallion grumbled.

“Sorry,” Danni volunteered. “We’re visiting from Ponyville for the day, and we—”

“Thou especially, young mare,” he continued heedlessly. “Thou in the front.”

“I know,” Grasshopper said, “I’m sorry, just… got caught up in the—”

And then she fell silent. One by one, the others turned to see what had happened--and, as they did, they too went quiet. All of them stared silently, eyes wide, at the ponies before them.

The six ponies before them were clearly from out of town--way out of town. Each of them--father, mother, and four daughters--were dressed to the nines… or at least to the sevens or eights, in their own, country-bumpkin way. The father wore a wide-brimmed felt hat and a homespun suit with a pressed linen shirt underneath, while each of the mares wore subdued, cotton-print dresses with subtle accents of silk ribbon and lace. This was clearly a special occasion for them, coming out to the big city--and a large part of the reason for that was probably contained in the boxes and bags still spilled all over the sidewalk.

Grasshopper looked at each of the family members in turn. Each of their coats and manes were dull, earthy colors--grays and blues and browns that reminded Grasshopper of nothing so much as the rocks inside their cave back home. But, hiding at the back of the line, cowering behind one of her sisters, stood another pony entirely.

She was dressed like the others, but otherwise couldn’t be any more different from her family. She stared at Grasshopper with wide, frightened, sapphire-bright eyes. Her curly pink mane had been wrapped carefully in a bun at the base of her neck, save for a few loose flyaway strands. She wore a simple blue dress with tiny white flowers printed on it, almost entirely covering her powder-pink coat. And, even though her flanks were hidden by her skirt, Grasshopper would have bet her wings her cutie mark had something to do with balloons.

For several long seconds, both families stared at each other in silence as the traffic of Manehattan flowed around them. Then, one of the farmers stepped forward, her white mane cut short.

"What are you lookin' at, huh?" she demanded. "Come to stare at the out-of-towners?

Mama's eyes widened, and she ducked her head. “ ‘Scuse us,” she muttered, and slipped her way past their challenger.

One by one, the other changelings gave similar, half-hearted apologies, then slunk past the ponies, under the disapproving glare of the farmer himself.

Grasshopper stood rooted to the spot until Luke, already several yards down the sidewalk, turned and gestured urgently at her. Grasshopper snapped awake, then trotted past the family. However, she paused next to the pink pony, then grinned at her.

“You have a beautiful smile,” she said simply.

The pink pony stared at her for another second, then gave her a watery, halfhearted grin of her own. Grasshopper smiled wider, and was about to hurry off after the others--until she noticed something else.

One of the older sisters was watching her. The sister’s gray coat and purplish mane contrasted with her bright green eyes--which were currently in the process of drilling a hole straight through her. Then, her gaze flicked down the street, towards the rapidly-retreating hindquarters of the other changelings, cataloguing the color of Luke’s coat, and the curl of Mama’s mane, and the bright-blue of Danni’s eyes. And, though she didn’t say a word, Grasshopper could see the gears turning in her brain.

Grasshopper gulped then scurried off, back into the anonymous crowds of Manehattan--the best possible environment for a frightened changeling to be…

...or, at least, for a changeling who didn’t have a family as awesome as hers.

* * *

The letter came six weeks later.

Grasshopper was in the middle of counting out change for Cheerilee when the bell over the door rang.

“ ‘Scuse me,” said the gray mailpony--the one with all the muffins, what was her name…?--”but I got some mail for you.”

“Just toss it on the counter,” Hops said, distracted.

The mail stayed where the mailmare had put it for another hour or so, until after Grasshopper was able to get the lunch rush all squared away. Finally, after making sure all the customers were happy, and the counters were clean, and all the display cakes looked as pretty as could be, she turned to the mail. There were two envelopes for her: the one on top was square and white and sparkling, while the other was plain paper.

We got mail? asked Luke in the back of her brain.

"Uh-huh," Hops said, grabbing the sparkling envelope and tearing it open. She scanned the card inside absently.

Who from?

"I dunno," Hops said, tossing the card back on the counter. "Someone in Canterlot. Sounds like they're having a wedding, and want us to come."

That's... nice? Luke replied uncertainly.

"Plenty of love, I'm sure," Hops said, opening the other envelope. Inside was a simple sheet of lined paper, with a short message written in sharp, precise pencil strokes. "We'll just have to see if we can... uh..."

She fell silent, then read the note again. And again.

Something wrong? asked Luke.

Grasshopper swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Go get Mama,” she whispered.

Why? What’s happening?

Grasshopper swallowed again.

“We’re going to have a visitor,” she said. “This weekend.”

What? Luke squawked. Who? Why?

"I dunno," Hops said, scanning the letter one more time. "She says she wants to see how we're getting on in Ponyville."

Who's it from? he repeated, a little note of desperation in his thoughts.

Grasshopper bent down and peered closely at the note, so Luke could read it along with her.

Sincerely, he read slowly, Your sister, Maud.

A pause.

Uh-oh, Luke said.

Hops nodded slowly. "Uh-oh is right," she said.

What are we gonna do? he asked.

"The same thing we always do, silly," Hops said, folding the note and stuffing it back in its envelope. "Bake a cake, write a song, and hope to mellifera no one notices anything strange." She smiled. "Always worked so far."

In her brain, Luke giggled, and, despite the growing worry in her stomach, Grasshopper felt her smile growing wider.

Suddenly, the bell over the door dingled, and Hops spun to face the new customer.

"Heya!" she cried. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! What can I getcha?"

Author's Note

Just to be clear: the intent is that the Hive accidentally created their Pinkie Pie persona as a perfect replica of an existing pony. Yes, it's a little wierd--but it's Pinkie Pie. Things are always wierd.