It was a difficult time for Ponyville and its premier party planning pony, Pinkie Pie.
Her husband, Cheese Sandwich, and most of the children were away, planning ultra-important festivities overseas in Zebrica while Pinkie Pie remained home. It was important to stay. But she had less time to plan parties than her prospering town required. Her days were accounted for and although she threw herself into power-party-planning during her nights, party planning didn't feel as good as it had, and *the argument* had underlined that point.
She needed to make a decision.
She blinked slowly, staring at the beauty salon window, with Gummy, her pet crocodile clamped on her back with claws (not jaws). Gummy mirrored Pinkie's blinks. Ponies went in, got their hair cut, or dyed, then went out smiling--a proven measure of satisfaction! In with hair problems, out with solutions!
Pinkie's hair reflected in the window: tangled, as usual, a candy cane stuck a few inches up from her left ear from when her eldest son stuck it a week ago before he left with Cheese Sandwich. A couple of pigeons pecked at it yesterday and their whitish-black waste was also jammed somewhere within her curly locks. This morning, she awoke to ants burrowing within! Biting ants, not the happy ones. She didn't want to get rid of her daughter's sweet-smelling candy cane, but it was too sugary. She had never left food tangled for so long (she, or her children, usually ate it within a day!). The food wasn't why she was at the salon, but its experts could solve *that* problem.
She was still in front of the salon when her pegasus friend, Rainbow Dash, buzzed past.
"Heya Pinkie Pie!"
"Hi Dashie!" She forced a smile.
"How's it going?"
"Just peachy!" She grinned wide.
"You goin' in?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"Soon. I'm just thinking about what it might mean."
"You mean the--" Dash started.
"Die-ing my hair. I should do it."
"...what color were you thinking of?" Dash heard the homophone "dyeing" instead.
"I guess it'll be pink afterwards--whatever's left."
"But it's pink now."
"You mean it'll be a different color beneath everything!" Pinkie asked, suddenly excited. "Layers upon layers?"
"...Yeah, if you've been dyeing it awhile, colors can come off in layers, maybe. Probably. I don't care much about hair fashion." Rainbow Dash tossed her sparkling multicolored mane.
"Wow. I haven't died it before... what colors might show?" Pinkie, worked up, hopped in place. "Red, yellow, blue, green, orange, blue-green, lime-green, purple, violet, ebony, ivory, ROUGE!" She shivered, then straightened. "It could be 'Rouge', Rainbow Dash, do you know what this means?" She grabbed Rainbow Dash's shoulders and squished the pegasus' body down, adjacent to Pinkie's face.
"N...o?" Rainbow Dash squeaked.
"I could be a clown underneath! Poofy rainbow clown! I could look like *anything*."
"Yeah, rainbow... clown... hair." Rainbow frowned, possibly noting her own (thankfully non-poofy) rainbow-colored mane. "Dye your hair any color you want. You go girl." Rainbow Dash detached herself. "Should I fetch Rarity for some actually relevant fashion advice, or are you gonna be all right?" Rainbow Dash flapped her wings furiously as she moved up and out of Pinkie's reach.
"...sure. Sure!" Pinkie forced a smile, suddenly glum again as she was reminded why she had come to the salon.
"Great. I'll come by tonight to the place like we planned. Rarity'll come too... probably. And Applejack for sure. It'll be a party, just like you said."
"Thanks."
Dash saluted, then darted away.
Pinkie watched after her friend with wide eyes, and she smiled. Then she looked back at the salon and took a deep breath.
She went inside.
And tried.
Her hair--it died.
She emerged later, curly pink mane shorn. Gummy, her croc, got a mani-pedi-cure.
Underneath her popping pink mane, disappointingly, was a merely pink dome, colored the same as the rest of her body. Dash hadn't been right. But, pink was good. Pink was fun. Pink was beautiful. Just like the gray coloration that her sisters and parents bore. All colors could sparkle with joy.
She smiled and when paying let the hairdresser know that her shorn hair could go to needy ponies who wanted a natural wig. Her donation would make other ponies smile.
Her hair wouldn't be poofy for a while now; it wouldn't be obvious at a distance that a party was permeating when she crested a ridge, but she could now more easily wear a wig or paint her head or don a hat--although that'd be defeating the main purpose, so she wouldn't explore those options yet. Tears welled in her eyes. There wouldn't have to be more *arguments*. She was doing this for an important purpose.
She trotted across town to the hospital and entered it, passing Nurse Redheart at the check-in desk. With a deep breath, she opened the final door and carefully approached the very important pony to visit--her daughter who lay in the bed, exhausted and bald from necessary treatments.
Pinkie Pie wanted to laugh and shout and encourage, but she'd frightened a mare into labor last time and it was quiet hours. But her daughter glimpsed her mother's smile and sat up to speak.
"Mommy?"
"It's me, brilliant one," Pinkie smiled.
"You're--You're--"
"Like you." Pinkie placed a hoof on her daughter's shorn head.
Her daughter smiled.
"See! I was telling the truth. And I'm still pretty too, like you now." Pinkie raised another hoof to her missing mane, then lowered it against her bare head.
"You didn't have to do that, mommy."
"I wanted to."
"I... I'm sorry mommy." Her daughter hid her face under the hospital sheet covers. "I didn't--I'm sorry about the candy cane... I'm too sensitive for the wigs. I shouldn't have--"
"Hush."
"You were so proud of your curls... I loved mine too."
"Your head is beautiful how it is, my dear. And now--we match!"
Pinkie kissed her daughter's forehead. And her daughter's face emerged from the sheets. She reached up to her mother and hugged her neck.
Author's Note
)... but the "death" tag is for more than a homophone; it is out of caution due to cancer-related treatments for a child.