An Ordinary Story

by Steady Gaze

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Drama, Comedy, Starlight Glimmer, Pinkie Pie, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 8331

Pinkie Pie must apply her baking skills in a rather unpleasant way for the good of Equestria in a straightforward slice-of-life adventure! But is that really the whole story?

Due events beyond her control, Twilight Sparkle has come to make a very unpleasant request of Pinkie Pie—to make enough gruel to feed a small army. Will Pinkie crack under pressure? Will she weasel her way out of this? Or will she buck up (somehow) and do her duty? And how did a fairly straightforward slice-of-life story get to be five chapters long?

If you really must know before reading, things get meta and fly off the rails.

Reviews, corrections, and constructive feedback are welcome!

Published 2022-03-19 00:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-03-19 00:10:00 UTC

Chapter 2: Trick or Trope?

Who am I? I’m no one—really, you shouldn’t attribute any sort of sentience to me. I don’t need to eat, breathe, cook, clean, or make any of the mundane motions of material maintenance happen. If you’re wondering why that is, it’s because I’m a series of repeating dark shapes upon a lighter background (or vice versa), scanned and interpreted by you, the reader, as either a subvocalized voice or a stream of thoughts. (Hey, but what if someone does a dramatic reading? N-no, that’s assuming this takes off and I become horse famous, and definitely counting my chickens before they’re hatched.) And yet, you can’t deny the verisimilitude, the “realistic” impression inherent in that final interpretation you give me. Disembodied, nonsapient voices aren’t all that relatable in stories; I may as well be a canned message playing from a greeting card with the requisite cheap electronics. So let’s say I do have wants, chief of which is to tell a good story.

If you’re still with me, I’ll talk about the… parameters of this “simulation”. With or without sapience, I’m not as creative or original as I’d like to be. But hey, nothing is more chaotic than a multi-agent system, with free-acting agents, not automatons. Why not build a mental model of a preexisting setting and characters therein, add the “spice” of conflict, and see what happens? I can eat my fudge cupcakes in peace while the story writes itself! I know I'm not the first writer to ask myself, "What would Pinkie Pie do in this situation?"

Ok, well, the story "writing itself" is a slight exaggeration. The simulation can be the yeast, but I’ll be the baker. From the infinite dark void, imagine a fast food menu materializing. “Yeah, for this one, I’ll have a number 6 campy spy thriller, extra sap(piness) please. Mmmm… I have been trying to keep off the pounds lately, but I could eat a horse today, heh. I’ll take an apocalypse. What kind? Oh, surprise me.”

“We only work as a team,” Agent Sweetie Drops had said so many moons ago, and her handlers at SMILE had stayed true to their word. When she’d moved to Ponyville and met Lyra Heartstrings, she realized she needed that kind of friend to be by her side no matter what, although of course everypony around her besides Lyra (and only in private) still called her Bon Bon, the name of her cover identity. “The name’s Bon. Bon Bon,” does have a certain ring to it. But, in this line of work, being together meant sharing the dangers as well as the boons.

Since the sabotage in the Cloudsdale weather factory (covered by an “accident” cover story, so as not to incite panic in the ever-harmonious land of Equestria), the agency had been on high alert. Agent Heartstrings and Agent Drops had tailed a stallion suspected of planting an explosive device to an illegal gambling den in Las Pegasus. Besides the unsettling observation that he had a forked tongue (which, by their intel’s best guess, he had gotten as part of an induction ceremony to a gang or cult) and his apparent insistence on wearing a full-body tailored suit at every hour of every day, it had been as uneventful as any other operation. Now, they were at an impromptu arena, ringed by perhaps a hundred ponies all gathered around a mongoose fighting a cobra. It seemed everypony had their forehooves extended in frenzied yelling. A few ponies held out bits to make new bets even as the fight was in progress.

The target pulled out a notepad and quill, checked something off, put it away, and then got on their hooves. “Target is on the move, and he’s trotting right toward me,” said Lyra urgently.

“Stop touching your ear!” Sweetie Drops whisper-yelled into her earpiece. She was seated in a vantage point high-up in the stands, with Lyra just ten meters from the target.

“What?” It was too hard to hear over the commotion. Lyra turned away and pressed her earpiece harder into her ear.

“Put your hoof down!” Sweetie Drops continued desperately.

Lyra’s eyes went wide with the realization that her cover was crumbling faster than an overdone cookie being trod underhoof as she turned towards the target, who was staring at her just a few meters away. After a moment of recognition, the mysterious stallion bolted. The chase was on!

It was a day like any other on the streets of Manehattan, when something streaked down from the sky and planted itself on the intersection of 5th and Riverhoof. After the initial shock, curious ponies gathered around the impact crater, which housed a glowing metal spheroid. One pony reached out a hoof, when suddenly, with an ominous hissing, a web of green fibers issued forth in all directions. With a scream, everypony stampeded away, except for one unfortunate stallion that was ensnared and dragged, screaming, towards the object.

To the horror of everypony else, more of the mysterious objects began raining down all over the city. Many fled, only for another of the cursed meteorites to crash in front of them and suck them in.

In a secret military facility housed in the caves deep below Canterlot, everypony of rank was huddled in front of one particular intricately enchanted cutout engraved in a crystalline wall in the command center, which was covered in a wall of such cutouts that displayed footage from across the base and the ongoing attack in Manehattan. One particular pony, with a strange cutie mark of a slightly rotated isosceles triangle with a small stalk protruding from the shortest edge, had been given the centermost spot and was paying close attention. Outside, various lower-enlisted rushed about preparing for deployment or frantically carting papers, supplies, and arcane devices.

With an ethereal flicker, the arcane monitor powered up and displayed a peculiar variant of the royal lunar seal, depicting the moon and stars and the Roaman motto “Vigilo Confido”. After a moment, the seal faded away to reveal a shadowed, backlit figure with a deep blue coat and flowing mane.

A mare's voice, speaking with gravitas, began, “Hello, Commander. In light of the recent extraterrestrial incursion, this royal council has convened to approve the activation of the XCOM project. You have been chosen to lead this initiative, to oversee our first, and last line of defense. Your efforts will have considerable influence on this planet's future. We urge you to keep that in mind as you proceed. Good luck, Commander.”

With that, the monitor winked out.

Every sense of mine is abruptly filled with buzzing, crackling static. TV static and white noise entertains my eyes and ears, and if I had a body, I’m sure it would have felt like it was rolled up in a blanket of paresthetic needles. I let myself exist in such a state for a few moments. Gradually, I begin to hear dull voices as my senses reassert themselves.

“We can’t… wake…” I hear, through a generous helping of reverb and delay. Some more indistinct mutterings occurred around me.

“... now,” says a different voice.

With a whoosh, my vision flies elsewhere.

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed my indulgence/dabbling in a bit of crossover fanfiction. The specific scenes being referenced are linked in the text.

Chapter 3: Who’s Around?

Pinkie Pie, the filly, had just given her family the party of a lifetime that day. The whole Pie family felt happily spent, and indeed Quartz Pie was tucking Pinkie into bed.

“Did you feel… like someone was watching our party?”

Quartz Pie blinked and tilted her head in puzzlement. “Well, thy father and I are most pleased with the events that transpired. My, we never realized our whole family’s spirits were so low. We all were so taken aback that we could only stand and watch the first few moments we laid eyes on your party.”

“N-no, not like that. It’s like… there was someone jumping around the room whenever someone new started talking. I felt it right before I saw the rainbow too.”

“Oh, dear, is this about the ghosties again? Do you remember what your old Granny Pie always said about how to handle them, Celestia rest her soul?”

Pinkie cracked a small smile.

“We never realized the mundane hardships of life could use the same treatment, but we have you to thank for reminding us.” Quartz Pie gave little Pinkie a peck on the forehead, then turned out the light and trotted away.

Pinkie meant to survey her sisters, but couldn’t keep her eyes open long enough to stop herself from drifting off into a long, dreamless sleep.

Back at Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie Pie was still reflecting on the disturbing truths she’d just learned. What can you do against the all-powerful narrator of your world? Pinkie didn’t have a good answer, and she had the feeling nopony would. But if there’s anything she’d learned from all her adventures in Ponyville and beyond, it’s that, together with her friends, they could do anything.

But there was a problem. What if none of her friends believed her? Pinkie had long accepted that there were things in the world that only she could see, ranging from a strange ability to predict the future (her Pinkie sense) to knowing things nopony else knew (like the reason for Twilight’s little crush on a certain pegasus guard she bumped into in the Crystal Empire). One of her Pinkie sense-adjacent abilities had been the ability to tell if she was being watched, like when Twilight was spying on her to learn about her Pinkie sense. Though, most of the time, like when she’d first felt it when getting her cutie mark, she never did meet her mysterious observer. After growing accustomed to the feeling, she’d decided to prank her “viewers” from time to time, for example by grabbing the eyes of the people watching, or by interjecting and monologuing to them when she couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself and Gummy. All of this hurt her head to think about, and bewildered anyone she’d tried to explain it to, which is why she’d never really talked about it. Her Pinkie sense at least warned other ponies of falling objects, and all her other strangeness was attributed by those who knew her to “just Pinkie being Pinkie.”

But this was the first time that that viewer had replied! And what he’d said… that dema… thing. What would stop him from taking her away from everypony she knew and loved? And it almost seemed like he’d done this before! Pinkie shuddered to think of whether somepony dear to her had been completely erased from her mind, when she’d spent so much energy getting to know every pony (and I mean every pony) in Ponyville.

Pinkie placed the last of the batter in the oven. “Gummy, I have a teensy-tiny favor to ask you… can you take all the hardtack out of the oven when it's done and crate it please?” Gummy gave no visible signs of comprehension or even awareness. “I knew you could handle it! Thanks Gummy!” said Pinkie, before dashing out the door.

Twenty minutes and several stops later, Pinkie Pie rushed through the open doors of Rich’s Barnyard Bargains.

“Oh hi Pinkie, here to restock on baking ingredients again?” was what the greeter pony wanted to say, except he could scarcely get the first couple words out before being spun in circles by the wake turbulence that Pinkie generated. The encroaching pink pony slammed open the door of the manager’s office, in which a mildly deflated and downtrodden Filthy Rich was running some numbers. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have any flour,” said Filthy Rich, after taking one look at the pony he had the pleasure of speaking to, who was now catching her breath. “Trying to restock after a visit by the Princess I presume? Some workponies came by and carted it all away already… at market price.”

“Aww… it feels like Princess Twilight visited every shop in Ponyville before coming to see me…. Well, stay rich, Rich!” The pink pony zoomed back out the door.

A few minutes later, Pinkie stopped briefly in front of Bon Bon’s shop, before noticing it was obviously closed. Pinkie wondered how strange it was that it was closed so often, and, surveying the display, that there were usually barely any of the signature bon bons to be had. What a mystery, one she didn't really have an angle on.

“Hmph. Can’t stop now!” Pinkie remarked before dashing off.

Shortly afterwards, Pinkie Pie burst into the headmare’s office at the School of Friendship, where Starlight Glimmer was reading a letter from the Ponyville Hay Board about the school’s hay supply.

Pinkie Pie started, “I’ve been to every flour-carrying business in Ponyville, but I’ve been too late to catch up to Twilight every time!”

“Woah there, so you’re looking for… flour? And Twilight?” Starlight started.

“I wish it were just flour.” Pinkie’s expression was suddenly visibly flat. “I’m looking for a magical or non-magical solution to the problem of being stuck in a story with an all-powerful author who could turn me and my friends into nothing with just a thought, and I need Twilight’s help! And your help.”

A stunned and confused Starlight responded, with her hoof still extended towards Pinkie, “An all-powerful… I’ve never seen you look so serious before. What usually happens when you burst in like that and I ask what you’re doing, is that you pretend that I asked a silly question for laughs… or something like that.”

“That’s just it! I don’t see anything funny about this. It’s just like being stuck in that cage after Discord betrayed all of us and we had no hope left.”

Starlight’s eyes narrowed sympathetically, channeling the school counselor in her. “That bad, huh? Let’s talk it over.”

“So let me get this straight… you’re saying that we’re actually in a story, and that the ‘author’ of this story personally threatened you with a word that I think is ‘dematerialization.’ Is that right?”

“That’s right! But I know nopony I tell will believe me.” Pinkie spun her hoof listlessly in circles above the ground.

"Actually… I do believe you. At least enough to try to find out more. I’ve heard all about how Twilight couldn’t get over your Pinkie sense, and it makes sense that there’s a lot more where that came from, not to mention what I’ve seen first-hoof in all the time I’ve known you. And you’ve talked for way longer than would be sensible before throwing in a punchline, so I don’t think this could be a prank.”

“Oh my gosh! Thank you Starlight!” exclaimed Pinkie before wrapping her in a deep hug.

“You’re lucky I know you so well,” said Starlight, returning the hug. They let the moment last just a bit longer.

“Even if someday there isn’t a ‘me’ anymore and nopony remembers me, at least I’m here now,” Pinkie opined.

“That’s actually pretty profound, Pinkie. Are you sure you’re not a philosopher pony?” They shared a quick chuckle.

“So what do we do now?”

“I know exactly what to do now. We call Twilight and have the biggest research session of our lives,” said Starlight. After a pause, she added, “Besides the one we had after we accidentally released the Pony of Shadows.”

“Ooooh, you have a way to call Twilight?”

Starlight Glimmer reached for a special compartment underneath her desk. After a moment’s delay, she pulled out a hoof-sized metal disk with a stylized 6-pointed star embossed on the obverse. Pressing and turning both yielded satisfying clicks, as well as a purple glow emanating from within. “It’s a special gadget Twilight left for me now that she’s not here, for when big friendship problems happen in Ponyville or the School of Friendship.”

“Ooooh, that’s a very specific item whose sole purpose is to advance the plot! I bet there’s an encyclopedia out there that describes commonly occurring patterns in fiction which has an entry on this very pattern! Except it’s not an encyclopedia, it’s more of a named resource in a vast collection of named resources hosted by an even vaster collection of networked machines that’s too complicated for anypony to think about all at once!”

“What??” exclaimed Starlight Glimmer in complete bewilderment.

“Agh!” yelped Pinkie Pie, covering her mouth with her hooves in frustration.

Author's Note

A few things.

Here's a chill track on the house.

It is my strong opinion that the Ponyville Hay Board doesn’t receive the attention it deserves in fan works.

MacGuffin. TV Tropes. The Internet.

Chapter 4: Determaneism

“It’s exactly as I’d feared,” Twilight Sparkle said, staring gravely at the notes before her that were flooded with esoteric calculations. Numerous open volumes and strange experimental apparatuses cluttered the library in Twilight’s castle, where she and her closest friends (and Spike) had gathered some hours later. Among the clutter were various methods of random selection such as dice, bits, and even a dartboard. On the paper in front of her were the letters “A N O R D I N A R Y S T O R Y” followed by the word “stop”.

“I never understood much of the ‘why’ of Pinkie’s abilities, but everypony in Ponyville knows about her Pinkie sense,” said Applejack, in her characteristic country accent. “You’re saying there’s more to it?”

“This is bigger than Pinkie sense… bigger than Pinkie Pie… bigger than all of us. I didn’t want to talk about the implications before, but these experiments prove it conclusively. We’re in a story! Somepony is deciding exactly what we do and say! Narrative causality is—” said Twilight, before abruptly acknowledging everypony’s looks of silent noncomprehension. She took a few moments, and more than a few deep breaths, finally continuing, “Narrative causality is real, and things only happen because they’d make good stories.”

“You mean… this is all just a Daring Do novel?” said Rainbow Dash, breaking the ice.

“I’m partial to Shadow Spade myself,” remarked Rarity.

“Nopony remembers the Power Ponies,” Spike muttered at a barely audible volume.

“Actually, there’s some background that should help everypony,” said Twilight, easily switching into lecture mode. “There have been some… theories that fellow scholars came up with back in Old Equestria to explain the exploits of Starswirl the Bearded and his companions. They thought that their adventures were just too perfect. Monsters run amok for an entire age, but suddenly a band of virtuous heroes arises to cleanse the land of evil, and succeeds when nopony could before them. They said it fit within the conventions of the nascent ‘realistic fiction’ genre a little too well, and that somepony was manipulating events behind the scenes. Starswirl dismissed them as jealous busybodies, and I always agreed, even though there hasn’t been a more storied band until… well, us. What I’m saying is… they were right. All of Equestrian history has been one giant story, and we’re part of it.”

“Hmph. It does seem a mite bit like tooting our own horns, but I reckon I ain’t ever heard of a more eventful period of Equestrian history ‘till we met.” said Applejack.

“We are pretty awesome,” interjected Rainbow Dash, “I mean, who else has defeated Nightmare Moon to bring back Princess Luna, banished King Sombra back to the ‘ether’ twice, and saved the Pillars of Old Equestria?”

“Kind of sounds like a story everypony will tell their grandfoals…" said Starlight Glimmer knowingly.

“I didn’t want to believe it, but it almost makes sense. We’ve been far too lucky to have faced down so many mortal dangers and come out unscathed,” said Rarity.

“After we published our friendship journal, I can see how being ‘shy’ made it easy for everypony to understand my… character,” added Fluttershy, having remembered some uncomfortable scenes of being crowded by everypony after the friendship journal was released.

Spike said nothing, choosing not to bring up the obvious comparison to Humdrum.

“You all are oddly comfortable with this… I was expecting everypony but Pinkie to be freaking out," remarked Twilight. “But there’s one thing that’s bothering me,” she continued, her mood dampening. “This means that every challenge we’ve overcome has all been… a setup. Every time we’ve saved Equestria, us becoming best friends, it’s all happened because somepony with a quill thought it should be this way. I know I shouldn’t think this, but it feels like everything we’ve done is worthless. Remember when Discord was masterminding everything behind the scenes before my coronation? It feels like that, but even worse… none of our victories were really real. Not to mention the lives we’ve lived and all the things we’ve done up to now.”

After a respectful pause, Starlight Glimmer responded, “You know, that reminds me of some of the material we cover with the upperclassmares now. I’m sure in all your studies under Princess Celestia, you’ve seen the incredibly large (and dry) surviving body of work that all the philosopher ponies in history have produced?”

Welcoming the distraction, Twilight started, “Especially after the 1000 years of Celestial peace that started after the petrification of Discord, things really picked up culturally for Equestria. From Stallionivarius and Marezart in the music world, to Descanter and Kanter with no ‘de’ and spelled with a K—”. Catching Starlight’s raised eyebrow and hoof, Twilight gave an embarrassed grin. “Ahem, another time.”

“What I’m getting at is, it feels like every pony with a quill had an opinion on the essential questions of existence. Like, why are we here? Do things happen for a reason? Was everything that happened always going to happen, and there’s nothing a pony can do to change it?” Starlight raised her eyebrow again. “Sounds familiar? But the lives we’ve led have carried on no matter what answers those ponies have come up with in those ‘dusty old books’… no offense Twilight. Everypony here has found meaning. For example, the apples that you’ve grown, Applejack, have always been tasty, whether or not somepony’s quill made them that way. Rarity, the clothes you make bring joy to you and your customers. Rainbow Dash, you’ll always push yourself harder than ever. Fluttershy, your kindness will be remembered by countless animals (and ponies). Pinkie Pie, you’ll keep spreading laughter far and wide. Spike, you’ll always be Twilight’s right-hoof dragon. And Twilight Sparkle, you’ll never run out of magical and intellectual frontiers to explore. Is this or anything else going to keep us from the things that give meaning to our lives?”

Everypony had a new and fresh sparkle in their eyes, especially Twilight Sparkle. “That was a wonderful speech, Starlight; I knew I left the school in good hooves. Regardless of the nature of reality, nopony can deny that we still have our experiences. I know now that we can still find joy, and when we stumble, our friends will help us up. That’s a lesson everypony needs to be reminded of from time to time.”

“Group hug!” yelled Rainbow Dash impulsively, and everypony complied.

Afterwards, Pinkie Pie finally broke her silence. “What should we do now? About Puffington? And the gruel?”

“Here’s what I’ve been thinking,” said Twilight. “Things haven’t gone too badly for us, even though (or perhaps especially because) we’re the ‘main characters’ according to what you’ve seen, Pinkie. You might have drawn the short straw this time, but these things seem to just happen to us all the time. Yet they go back to normal after a few days, without fail. We should try to ride this one out.”

Everypony nodded in agreement, and all eyes turned back on Pinkie.

“That sounds nice… but there was one thing…. This observer seemed a bit… different than normal. They’re the first one to say something back to me. They also seemed a bit… cold, condemning all the ponies in Puffington just like that, just to make a better story, even just because they could. There might be more disasters where that came from.”

Twilight was about to (kindly) brush off the concern, when Spike burped out a scroll. Reading it, he exclaimed, “It’s from the office of the royal guard! They’re saying… aliens have invaded? They’ve called Celestia and Luna back to Canterlot. Innumerable casualties in Manehattan… and they’re planning to activate the ‘XCOM’ project? What’s that?”

Twilight Sparkle turned a new shade of purple. “This is bad… this is really bad….”

“Should we go back to Canterlot? How do we even fight aliens?” said Spike.

“N-nothing like this has happened in our lifetimes! Only in some sick pony’s sadist fantasies! At least Cozy Glow, Queen Chrysalis, and Lord Tirek didn’t go around killing ponies! If the ‘new’ author upends the security of our entire world so fast, who knows what else is in jeopardy!”

Starlight Glimmer interjected as Twilight caught her breath, “We can’t—we have to fight the root cause of our problems. If Pinkie says this ‘observer’ is more erratic than usual, fighting off the aliens won’t help—he’ll just throw more and more disasters at us for ‘narrative reasons.’”

“I agree,” replied Twilight, “but how can we possibly strike at the author of a story we’re in?”

Starlight suddenly wore a sly grin. “What would happen if we constructed a spell matrix with my cutie mark magic and used it on Pinkie? With her permission of course.” A subtle blush betrayed embarrassment about how she’d previously used it.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Some interaction with the author might be possible… but we couldn’t do much besides talk… unless… we used the transdimensional components of the spell we used to get the Pillars out of limbo!”

“We could finally pay this ‘observer’ a little visit!” exclaimed Starlight.

Author's Note

According to Google, I'm officially the first person in recorded history to make the determinism/determaneism pun! "Trod underhoof" and "trodden underhoof" (appearing in other chapters) are also rare terms.

Hopefully my lack of a philosophy degree didn’t show too hard. How do you feel about existing in a possibly deterministic, or free-will-lacking world?

Chapter 5: Everypony Discovers the Multiverse

The embodiments of the elements of harmony stood in formation in the fields outside Ponyville amidst a gathering whirlwind of magical energy. In the center, Twilight and Starlight crossed their horns while Pinkie Pie stood beside them, her cutie mark glowing. The other four stood in a ring around them. Spike held on to Twilight’s tail for dear life, and a glass jar levitated above it all.

“Starlight, you’re a genius! I think this might work!” Twilight exclaimed over the wind.

Starlight only breathed heavily before asking, “Ready everypony?”

“Ready!” they replied.

Starlight and Twilight unleashed the stored magical energy in an arcing spiral. A yellow orb popped into existence over their heads descended into the glass jar that was swiftly sealed shut. A sudden calm prevailed as the magic field dissipated and the glass jar dropped onto the now wind-swept grass.

Starlight didn’t let out a sigh of relief or release the tension in her shoulders—she couldn’t yet. At her hesitation, Twilight said, “We can’t let it wake yet. We’ve got to… probe it.”

“Talking it over was one thing… but using mind magic ‘offensively’ feels like I’m on even thinner ice than before.”

Twilight was sympathetic; no doubt it was hard for Starlight to use mind magic like this again when previous uses had gone so poorly. Then, Pinkie laid her hoof over Starlight’s and gave her an empathetic look. “Don’t worry—it’s not a friend. It’s nothing like a pony, or griffon, or hippogriff, or anything from this world.”

With a bit more resolve, Starlight nodded to Twilight.

As they let their magic flow, everypony’s minds were linked into a form strong enough to resist virtually any mental attack known to Ponykind, as well as with enough processing power to absorb what was coming next. Everypony’s eyes were replaced with pure white as the world around them washed away. Their minds were instantly filled with an ineffable, seemingly never-ending stream of knowledge…

…of a strange, technologically advanced race of “humans” so unlike the ones from the portal to Canterlot High, who had no alicorn goddesses to guide and protect them, who claimed to have no magic yet had created wonders, who led incredibly boring lives whose days consisted mainly of sitting in front of glowing monitors, navigating an endless maze of self-powered wagons, and then sitting in front of another glowing monitor before going to bed;

…of their propensity to construct stories, even entire imaginary worlds to pass the time, or teach moral lessons, or even to tease their audiences;

…of how the creation of their world transpired, which wouldn’t have existed were it not for a toy company trying to invent new ways to sell toys to children;

…of how every world, every story, necessarily splinters into a unique shard upon its interpretation by a new mind, even into multiple pieces held in the same mind;

…of how these splinters can grow into worlds of their own, if they are given sufficient time and distribution;

…of how varied these worlds are, such as one where their world ended in balefire after a cruel and terrible war and a new, barely recognizable one sprang up in its place 200 years later, or one where Sunset Shimmer never fell to corruption and remained Princess Celestia’s faithful pupil despite her own flaws, or one where Princess Luna created a reconstructed Tantabus for dreamwalking duty that had a sharp wit and many adventures, or one where Prince Blueblood was chosen as Princess Celestia’s pupil and stallions became the elements of harmony, or one where Twilight’s Canterlot friends became the elements of harmony despite Princess Celestia’s meddling, or one where Lyra Heartstrings uncovered humanity's ancient history in Equestria and stumbled into the real human world, and another where she was cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets, or one where a filly Rainbow Dash was accidentally teleported to the human world but managed to find a loving caretaker, or one where a human astronaut stumbled upon the planet Equus, or the uncountable worlds detailing the lives of ponies they barely knew, or the yet more uncountable worlds with new and novel romantic pairings among the group or other ponies, as well as many things not suited for a G-rated work;

…of how their recent experiences were from one such splinter given life;

…and finally, of how utterly hopeless it is to resist the creator of a story while a character in it.

Everypony was understandably exhausted after having so much information forcibly stuffed into them, especially that last point about all resistance being futile. Still, they managed to open their eyes almost lazily… only to behold the yellow orb distinctly not in its glass prison.

Rainbow Dash started, “How did you…”

“...escape my prison, in a world in which I control everything, down to the last little detail?”

Hearing things straight from the horse’s… er, human’s (?) mouth. Is this how Pinkie Pie always felt when living with her… abilities?

Rainbow Dash replied, “Right… you’re awesome, all-powerful author!” before instantly recoiling in horror at her involuntary praise.

Twilight and Starlight were considering all the magical bounds and hexes they’d placed on that little glass jar, and how the author had seemingly floated out with no effort at all, against all known laws of magic. Yeah, they were… out of luck, to say the least.

“You’re probably thinking about how useless your magic is against me. Well, you’re right. In fact, I allowed myself to be ‘captured’ and ‘probed’ because it would make an interesting story. Shame you had to find out about the fruitlessness of resistance to me so soon, or I could have had some fun with this scene. This yellow light thing was just for show.” The yellow orb winked out, while the now incorporeal voice continued. “Oh, and contrary to your impressions, I am not a sadist. Well, not as sadistic as some of my kind.” It was true, in a way… in their visions everypony had “seen things”.

“Don’t patronize us you… you…” Rarity exclaimed, before failing to find an appropriate insult for a transdimensional, incorporeal being.

Twilight spoke up, “Since you’re here, and… talking… how could you torture this world you’ve created (or half created) so much?”

“In terms of the ethical problem of spawning imaginary sentient creatures and having them suffer, I think the ‘imaginary’ part should assuage any concerns.”

Starlight jumped in. “I have a question too… where’s the only other creature with story altering powers besides Pinkie Pie… where’s Discord?”

”Oh! Uh… he’s… on vacation, yeah!”

Starlight raised an eyebrow.

“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Now that the beans have been spilled and thoroughly trodden underhoof, the time has come for your questions, and your suffering, to end, because it is time for the end… thank you everypony for playing, especially you, Pinkie Pie.”

“Wait! This is way too rushed. You’re going to end things just like that?” Pinkie replied. “What about the happily ever—”

Just like that.

Author's Note

How long have you been reading MLP fanfics? Did you get them all? Granted, I imagine multiple fanfics would meet some of these descriptions.

their world ended in balefire after a cruel and terrible war and a new, barely recognizable one sprang up in its place 200 years later: Fallout: Equestria by kkat

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If you didn't suffer through enough meta in this story, I'd highly recommend the Scootertrix the Abridged series. The Tantabus, Mk. II story also contains some very competent deconstruction of literary tropes.

This is actually the first work of fiction I've written in a long time, and one I've spent entirely too much time on. If I write anything in the future, hopefully I'll be able to write more fluidly and also resist polishing it for too long. Also, I'd like to reiterate that reviews, corrections, and constructive feedback of this story are welcome!

Chapter 1: Pinkie Pie’s Gruel Fate

Or, Between a Rock and a Hardtack Place

In Sugarcube Corner, a stuffy voice rang out, “I have orders, duly authorized by the Princess herself, to requisition from this establishment all baking ingredients, heating appliances, utensils, and other articles used in the preparation of—”

Twilight Sparkle cringed.

She’d decided to come here herself from Canterlot, the capital of Equestria and her seat of power, to soften the blow to Pinkie Pie, one of her first true friends. It certainly wasn’t her style as a ruler, much less as a friend, to make her subordinates have all her difficult conversations for her. That still didn’t stop her from putting off this visit, making it one of the last ones on their route before moving on to Horsefield.

She’d arrived at the bakery and exchanged the usual pleasantries, which involved no small amount of confetti. (Twilight briefly lamented that Pinkie seeing her, at least in Ponyville, was now a special occasion.) Of course, then she’d fallen silent to think, yet again, of how best to break the news to Pinkie. Too long, in fact, because it had given that crusty administrator the chance to buck away all the gentle, less direct approaches that she’d carefully prepared.

Pinkie’s eyes had grown wide as a grin crept across her face, obviously not listening to the rest of the administrator’s remarks.

“Ms. Pie, do you have something to say?” the stallion official spat officiously.

“This sounds an awful lot like a party…and not just any party, a PRINCESS-LEVEL PARTY!” she said, spreading her hooves amidst another burst of confetti.

Twilight interrupted to salvage the situation while the official was processing the sudden appearance of confetti before he (who was it… Weighty Scales?) could give her friend a decidedly uncharitable clarification (and tonal whiplash). “Pinkie… Mr. Scales… you see, we need to use all your baking supplies for the good of Equestria.” Heading off Pinkie’s next remark, she continued, “And not in your usual way, by throwing an amazing party. There’s been a disaster in Puffington, and we need to make sure there’s enough food for everypony.”

Weighty Scales, regaining his composure, tut-tutted, “That’s quite right, Your Majesty. A catastrophic mixup in the Cloudsdale weather factory has downright submerged the entire region. We’ve gathered the displaced ponies to refugee camps until the crisis can be addressed. In the meantime, they require emergency food and medical—”

Pinkie Pie saluted. “Two thousand three hundred and twelve oat & honey cookies, coming right up!” Twilight didn’t doubt the accuracy of that figure, knowing Pinkie Pie’s freakishly thorough filing system.

Sadly, that wasn’t the half of it. Weighty Scales followed up, "Ms. Pie, you haven’t heard the full decree! We simply can’t accept oat & honey coo—”

“Oatmeal cookies?”

“No, Ms. P—”

“Chocolate chip?”

“N—”

“Oooooh, I love guessing games! Oatmeal raisin? Pistachio? Caramel? Gingerbread? Sugar?” Weighty Scales could only shake his head as fast as he could.

Pinkie’s eyes widened in excitement as her voice rose in pitch, “Oh… but what if we don’t need cookies… What if we need cupcakes, like strawberry, merengue, key lime pie, or… JALAPEÑO… RED… VELVET CAKE???”

Weighty Scales’s left eyelid twitched erratically as he took cover in front of the counter with his hooves covering his ears, his mind clearly short circuiting after the rapid-fire monologue followed by the incomprehensible combination of jalapeño with anything sweet. At least Twilight could count on the fact that the “party pony” was the bureaucrat pony’s biggest weakness.

Pinkie’s eyes were still gleaming at the mention of her favorite cupcake flavor, if it was even possible for her to settle on one (Starlight Glimmer had mentioned that factoid as part of some tale of Pinkie’s antics). With Weighty Scales down for the count and Pinkie Pie drawing ragged breaths before continuing into the epic-length list of cupcake flavors she knew of, it seemed the only option was to bite the speartip.

“GRUEL! You have to make GRUEL!”

Twilight stopped to wonder if Pinkie even knew what gruel was, but Pinkie’s stunned pause followed by her suddenly enlarged and glistening eyes told her all she needed to know.

“G-g-g-gruel? I h-haven’t m-m-made g-g-gruel since I g-g-got my c-cutie m-mark,” Pinkie stammered, barely whispering towards the end. She gulped and took a breath, and Twilight was conscientious enough to let her collect herself. “I drink rock soup once a year, but that’s a Hearth’s Warming tradition. Ever since I found out I was a party pony, I decided I’d never, ever, eeeeever make food that makes me frown.”

Twilight allowed room for a careful pause. “Pinkie, I came here myself because I knew this would be so incredibly hard for you,” she started, her eyes beginning to sting and threaten sympathetic tears. “I had a long chat with Spike and my other advisors about this, along with several ponies whose special talents involved numbers and measurement. There are so many ponies who need food right away, not to mention the rations for the armies of pegasi needed to fix all this. The only way to feed them all within a safe margin is packaged… gruel.” Twilight was about to launch into a discussion of how hardtack was also an option, and then of the pros and cons of each, but she’d learned by now that such an emotional moment wasn’t the time to prattle on about less important information.

Pinkie Pie said nothing, only meeting Twilight’s gaze. After another moment, she cracked a small smile, and Twilight felt the intimate warmth of Pinkie’s absolute trust, and moments later, the waterworks. Friendship is magic.

Pinkie hugged Twilight and remarked, “You can’t smile if you’re gone. E-everything’s fun the first time at least… even a gruel party.”

They unhugged and wiped their tears away. Twilight realized there were more instructions, but Weighty Scales was out of action. She levitated the relevant scroll out of his saddlebags, set it on the counter, and said, “I think you’ve got this. We’ve got to catch up with the rest of the bakeries in the region, and get Mr. Scales to someplace where he can recuperate.” Touching him, they both disappeared in the distinctive pop-and-flash of teleportation magic.

Pinkie Pie skimmed the rest of the scroll. The decree said she and the other bakery staff were being “impressed”, but Mr. Scales hadn’t done anything all that flashy besides entering a catatonic state. Suddenly, Pinkie Pie’s neck swiveled and swooshed erratically. With both hooves stretched wide, she grabbed the two edges of my mind’s eye’s field of vision and pulled her face in close. Oh horseapples! Oh sweet Celestia!

“YOU DISGUST ME, STRANGE WRITER-MAN!!! THINK OF THE POOR PONIES OF PUFFINGTON!”

Dammit, we were doing so well! She’s on to me! “Y-you see, it’s for the story, a-and—”

“BUT THAT ISN’T THE HALF OF IT! YOU MADE PINKIE PIE MAKE GRUEL???”

“W-well, t-t-technically you haven’t made any y-yet?”

No sooner had I spoken, Pinkie’s arms commenced a blur of opening, pouring, mixing, and oven-dial-turning. Was she still grabbing the “camera”? If not, perhaps I could “unload” Sugarcube Corner, fly to Canterlot and check out the rebuilt royal palace, or maybe—drat. It was another one of Pinkie’s abilities—the ability to use more hooves than she physically had, so long as her body was obscured. Was it time for drastic measures?

“DON’T TRY TO DISTRACT ME!” Pinkie Pie gave the mind’s eye camera her best pout/scowl combo. Ugh, keep it together! I took a moment to collect myself. I am the all-powerful author… I am the all-powerful author… aha! I’d fight meta with meta!

“Pinkie, you know I can dematerialize you with a thought, even if it makes no narrative sense? I guess we writers don’t talk about it that often, but…”

“Dema… dema… huh?”

“Make you go poof. Disappear you. Make you vanish into thin air, for no reason at all.” Now for the big reveal, the gut punch. “You wouldn’t even remember… if I’d done it to you before… and I could go farther this time. Write you out of the story entirely… make everyone you know forget that you ever even existed.”

Pinkie’s arms suddenly stopped mid-open, -pour, -mix, and -oven-dial-turn. “O-oh…” Pinkie said softly. Being threatened with dematerialization has the odd effect of reminding you of your mortality, though it’s definitely pretty weird to tell a character in your own story about it. “Can you at least help with the disaster in Puffington? Please?” Agh, no, not the puppy-dog eyes! “I’ll make you… cupcakes?”

“Pinkie, I created that disaster for… narrative reasons. You wouldn’t understand, being a character in this story yourself. Also, I can’t actually eat any cupcakes you make… I can only imagine eating them. And I can do that whenever I want, without your help. See?” I bit down on a newly materialized dark brown chocolate cupcake, through the thin sugary glaze. I hit a gooey fudge pocket, smearing it onto my tongue and drinking in its nauseating sweetness. I chuckled, “Taste is actually pretty difficult to put into writing.”

“You remind me of Discord, but without the delicious chocolate rain… and are you sure fudge is nauseating?” Gaining some confidence at not being dematerialized on the spot and attempting to retain a shred of dignity, Pinkie scowled again and said, “I’ll let you fly away this time, but you’re on thin ice, mister!” Pinkie Pie was an expert ice-skater with all the work she did skating every year for Winter Wrap-Up, so I didn’t doubt her choice of metaphor.

“Ok Pinkie, I’ll be on my best behavior… but don’t forget what we’ve talked about…”

Pinkie released the mind’s eye camera and continued working on the gruel, but at a more natural pace this time, with just her materially-distinct forehooves. I didn’t blame her for suddenly being in a contemplative mood after what I’d said. Not wanting to linger any longer, I flew up and away, until Sugarcube Corner was just one building among many, until Ponyville was just one hamlet among many, until the planet Equus was just one speck among many.

Author's Note

There’s a somewhat awkward transition from Pinkie Pie making gruel to her making hardtack, which is far more practical to store and transport, due to the association of gruel with austerity being more widely known than that of hardtack… and also because I couldn’t resist the pun in the chapter title.