Pinkie Pie pondered on the elasticity of change. She was too much to bear at the moment for her head pulsated with knowledge. The fabric of time was beyond her for the actuality of being an actual pony felt foreign to her being. There was such little left, how could she of all ponies not understand that. Her son, her little foal boy, had become a man along with the death of her beloved Cheese Sandwich so many years ago. How could she carry on at the end of her life time, when there was not much left for all this time.
She remembered all the parties that she made to make ponies so happy, but did the effort ever matter? The work to make so many ponies jubilant and outspoken only deterred her mind from the aspect that her own life was a masquerade of turbulence and unhappiness. There was the prospect of having a vacation to all the sadness and slow entropy that the once fruitful farm she now resided in only was left to her in the end. Everypony else had moved on and she could be the only pony left with the resentment of her younger years.
Out of all the horrific torment that resided deep within, Pinkie wished for the younger years when all but one of her friends were still alive. A dream that cascaded over a waterfall of wishful thinking. If only the creator of his planet could have directed her to a more wishful future. One without the desolate and empty farm that she frequented with rocks and old machinery.
There was a gaping hole in her heart that stretched out over the farm, that made a black hole of nothingness that drifted into frivolities of boredom. Pinkie Pie just sat in her decrepit farm with her father’s chair that swayed as she went. How could she have become like this, she would tell herself to repeat every morning of the day.
The energy to move had left her body and she knew that there was no escape to what was coming. There was a bloodied note on her property that told of three days past where they would rampage against her. It seemed to be a remembrance of darkness that she never thought possible. Thoughts of ponies that slapped and sliced her body apart was better or for worse to think about. But, they weren’t ponies at all, just lonesome creatures of other species ready to raft away her life into the sea of immeasurable death amongus.
Her soul had turned and squelched and twisted from the fact that these assailants were so pompous and powerful that they had the ability to get the job done. Entirety was the emotion of conceiving every piece of your own death. There was only the preposterous notion of defending oneself against the beasts that awaited her end.
She remembered the gift that Twilight Sparkle gave, the last of the ideals her friends were to give out. There would be no resurge of regret over who she was. Pinkie Pie was ready to take this last potion that her dear friend had given her. From the far end of the forest that reached for miles, came the monsters ready to tear her limb from limb, masked and ready to pound.
Pinkie in her old age, drank the elixir to its fullest to make sure every drip was taken deep inside. They screamed as the midday sky turned to a light darkness and Pinkie Pie rose to address the screaming death dealers ready to end her existence. Her chair screeched ready for whatever the potion could do, for whatever purpose these monsters were ready to deal with her well.
A giant futa cock grew out of her crotch. She raised the mighty penis into the air and succed the killers into her cock with one mighty succ. Their expressions of terror turned into an elegy of screams. Almost twenty of them flew deep into the peehole and were submerged into the fresh made testicles. There, the balls squeezed and contorted them all one by one until they were naught but protein and juices.
“Yea, who else wants some of this, come and try and get eaten by my balls you bastards!” said Pinkie Pie to the three to four who remained that ran for the hills.
“That's right you gargantuan scared ponies you’ve got no balls, i’m more of a guy than all of you!” she said with a smack of her big dick.
And with that, Pinkie Pie sat in her chair and watched the stars. It reminded her of the many adventures her friends had. Such a long ago tale that even she couldn’t remember. The last thing she could do against the tide of memories was sleep against her own home, in her own peace...
The last of the beasts had been swept away with Pinkie's futa penis. The only thing left to do was to rest along the quiet of the farm and the sweet memories of her old friends. To think of them was a dream that came together as the futa penis receded into her body. The potion done, another thanks to Twilight Sparkle for her aid. All that was left was what food was available and the sweet science of listening to the creak of your own chair.
She slumbered deep into the chair and watched the darkness in her eyes. Until the chair itself would move on its own without the force of its master. Her body cold and tired from so much effort in one day, there would be no escape from the sweet embrace of her chair. For her stiff body was forfeit and her heavy eyes had become permanent. The chair had paused its ways until it screeched to a slow crawl. It left the old Pinkie Pie, hair white with exhaustion and all that was left was a sweet image of friendship amongus forever.
