No one cared for Pinkamena Diane Pie. These thoughts wouldn’t leave her. There was no pony who showed an appreciation for her cooking. Not even the rats could taste it and enjoy. Pinkamena didn’t have friends who cared.
She thought they were a reality to something true. A testament to a taste of friendship. Pinkamena sat alone at her farm. Eyes covered with crow’s feet. Her mane lined with silver, her pink color turned to decay.
The graves of her family below her. Five stone tablets with their names laid upon them. Pinkamena was the last of her kind. A rock farmer that could pick with the best of them. She had no foals, no pony to love her, all that money saved from years of work with no use.
Pinkamena would sneak a little paint job and add a new wood tile to the farm house. When a window broke or a stray rock lodged itself into the wall, she would procure some funds and buy some wood. Why would she need to hire anypony when she could do it herself.
She missed her family so dearly, she wanted them to come back. Every death tore a piece of her over time. What would she do by herself now? What could an old mare of ninety-six be able to give life to? She remembered when her mother perished in that bed.
How she couldn’t deal with that deathbed as she cleaved it with ease. Her axe slammed it with her own powerful strength. To have clawed it and smashed that bed to pieces. It was at least useful for good firewood on cold winter nights.
Pinkamena Diane Pie dusted her hooves filled with dirt. It was a sunny day today, too sunny to ignore. She walked back towards the farm house. Her door opened with a soft force. She crept in and went to a door on the floor between the living room and the kitchen. It was dark, but Pinkamena Diane Pie was used to it. The black air could be smelled and it felt quiet.
She remembered the exact place where it was. The metallic string that enveloped her world. It was like a party all over again. A joy to observe and repeat with the depths of the heart. Pinkamena was so excited to feel it again.
That heartfelt joy of anything profound. Then, with a smile, she pulled the metal wire with a heartfelt giggle and a joyous waltz. All around her, was her family, her loving, caring, parents and sisters. Their smiles etched across their faces. Eyes agaped and wide. All around her, all around Pinkamena were smiles. Maud, Marble, Limestone, Igneous, Cloudy…
Their bones, their bones were here. All around her, Pinkamena could remember heartfelt memories. The smashed rocks, the great parties, the way each one died of old age one after another. How miserable everypony was, how awful the planet centered around their suffering of just rocks. Stones, pebbles, all the time and never ending. A view of a boulder that crushed Pinkamena dead. What would they think of her desecrated corpse? What would they say to her when she was with them?
Pinkie Pie why did you do this to me? One asked.
You were never a real daughter, you're just a pink bastard! Cloudy would say.
Pinkamena could only dance around the circle of her dead. The old lights clicked with beams of energy. The basement illuminated with her amazing prizes. A mass of individual bones, glue encrusted each bone's edge. Each one covered in illustrious dresses, designer suits, and bright colored bows.
A beautiful memory of a shovel that dug into the earth. Pinkamena’s favorite pastime and incredible love affair. Her only husband, the defiler of death’s sanctum. She could do whatever she wanted. Every single time, she was the true illuminator of death.
“Hello friends!” said Pinkamena.
Hello Pinkie!
She laughed, an electric joy that surged from deep within. Her friends were here and she would never part with them! Her laughter echoed across the dungeon before her. The bone statues, motionless and pristine.
“Now we can play games, so many games!”
She tripped on a piece of bone. Pinkamena fell on her face. The light flickered on and off. She gasped and turned around. The bone statues were around her, staring with dead eyes.
Now we can play games for all eternity
The door slammed close to the outside world. A monstrous blood-curdled cry. Soft laughter from numerous unknown ponies.
-9-
Police ponies surrounded the rock farm. Not an inch of idealism on there faces. A captain of the force came, a green dragon that was taller than anypony there. A pony in blue came out of the house and walked towards him.
"Commissioner Spike, we've checked the home and there doesn't seem to be a sight of the resident here" she said.
Spike with his scruffy beard and his arms turned towards his back scanned the old rock farm.
"And what of this, Pinkamena diane pie that owned the property?" he said.
The mare in blue frowned.
"No sign of her sir, but most unusual is that the entire basement is empty, as if it was scrubbed clean or something"
Spike went to the five tombstones and lit a cigar to smoke with a light of his fire breath.
"Hmm, give me the report on this secluded area, I'll need it as soon as I'm done here"
The mare in blue nodded.
"sir yes sir!"
Spike the dragon suddenly noticed a black figure in the distance, near the forest. He looked again and it vanished from thin air. This caused his spine to shiver from the sight itself. He hated coming to the dead trees and ugly atmosphere of these neck of the woods, but had to go through it anyways.
"Well this place is giving me the creeps... alright sergeant, I'll be back when more information has been gathered".
And so Spike went on his way past the yellow tape back from where he came...
