Pinkie Pie à la Shqiptare

by debrecen

Rating: everyone
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Random, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Rarity
Length: 2209

When an unknown condition sweeps across Ponyville, Twilight, Pinkie, and Rarity must confront the reality of Albanization face-to-face.

When an unknown condition sweeps across Ponyville, Twilight, Pinkie, and Rarity must confront the reality of Albanization face-to-face.

As a person whose parents are from Vlorë, Albania, I wanted to share a bit of the culture I love so much in a fun and light way. I hope you enjoy! Nese edhe ti je ilir krenar haha ​​te lutem me kontakto!

Please leave a comment and any feedback you have; it would really help and make my day!

WARNING: This story contains references to Albania, Albanian culture, and elements of the Albanian language...you have been warned.

Please do not read this story if you are averse to the topics listed above under "Warning"; the author does not condone the real-life recreation of these actions.

Published 2024-08-17 01:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2024-08-17 01:40:03 UTC

Pinkie Pie à la Shqiptare

Rarity was in the middle of organizing her extensive collection of imported silks when the boutique's door nearly burst off its hinges. The force of the intrusion sent a delicate roll of lavender fabric cascading to the floor like a wave of haute couture doom. Before she could register what was happening, Twilight Sparkle, looking frazzled beyond her usual book-induced panic, zipped into the room with Pinkie Pie bouncing along behind her, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“Twilight, darling, what is the meaning of this?” Rarity began, trying to maintain her composure despite the assault on her orderly workspace. “You’ve knocked over my—”

“Rarity!” Twilight interrupted, her voice hitting a pitch that would have shattered glass if her magic weren’t doing that already as she frantically sealed the windows with whatever spells she could muster. “There’s no time! We have a major problem on our hooves! A virus is spreading all over Ponyville!”

“Virus?” Rarity's tone shifted from annoyance to concern. “Is it like the Pony Pox? Or, Celestia forbid, feather flu? Whatever it is, I simply cannot afford to fall ill right now—I have three custom orders due by the end of the week!”

“Oh, it's not like any of those, silly!” Pinkie Pie chimed in, bouncing over to the now barricaded door. “This virus is super-duper weird! Twilight says it’s from another dimension, from a planet called Earth!”

“Another dimension?” Rarity’s sapphire eyes widened as she processed the information. “And you’re telling me it’s some sort of alien virus? How ghastly! But surely, with all the magic at your disposal, Twilight, you can stop it?”

Twilight, who was pacing back and forth like a wound-up spring, shook her head vigorously. “That’s the problem, Rarity! No magic works on this virus! I’ve tried everything—counter-spells, potions, even consulting the Canterlot archives—but nothing has worked! It’s spreading so fast, and everypony who gets infected starts acting…strangely.”

“Strangely?” Rarity echoed, her concern deepening. “What do you mean by ‘strangely’?”

Twilight took a deep breath, looking Rarity straight in the eye with a mixture of terror and disbelief. “The virus comes from a group called the Albanians. It... well, it Albanizes ponies!”

There was a pause. Rarity blinked once, then twice, waiting for Twilight to clarify, but nothing came. Pinkie Pie giggled, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

Rarity tilted her head, her elegant curls bouncing slightly as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. “I’m sorry, darling, but I must have misheard you. It Albanizes ponies? What in Equestria does that even mean?”

Twilight’s horn sparked with anxiety as she struggled to find the words. “It’s hard to explain. The virus changes them—ponies start speaking in strange accents, wearing unusual outfits, and developing an obsession with... um, raki and bizarrely lavish weddings! They start talking about something called ‘besa’ and—oh, Rarity, it’s all so confusing!”

“Raki? Weddings?” Rarity repeated, her fashionable mind trying to stitch together the pieces of this bizarre puzzle. “Twilight, this sounds more like a cultural phenomenon than a virus!”

“Tell that to the ponies who were seen grilling entire lambs in their front yards this morning!” Twilight snapped, her wings flaring out in exasperation. “It’s already too late for some of them. Fluttershy was seen wearing... gold chains!”

At this, Pinkie Pie let out a delighted snort. “Oooh, I wonder if this means we’ll get to have an Albanian-themed party! I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance with those fancy scarves!”

“Pinkie…how do you even know about that?” Twilight inquired skeptically.

Pinkie paid her no mind, and continued glancing blankly at the room around her.

Rarity, however, was not amused. She was trying to imagine Fluttershy in anything remotely flashy and failing miserably. The thought of Ponyville’s delicate, demure caretaker suddenly blinged out was enough to send shivers down her spine.

“So, what do we do?” Rarity asked, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over her. “How do we protect ourselves?”

Twilight, eyes wide with dread, trotted over to the nearest corner, motioning for the others to follow her. “We barricade ourselves in here until I can figure out a way to stop this! We can’t let the virus get to us! The last thing we need is for everypony in Ponyville to—”

But before she could finish, there was a loud *thunk* against the door. The three ponies froze, their eyes darting towards the source of the noise. Twilight quickly used her magic to push a nearby dresser in front of the door, adding to the makeshift barricade.

Pinkie, still grinning as though this were all a delightful game, whispered loudly, “Ooooh, maybe it’s an Albanian now! I wonder if they like cupcakes?”

Rarity and Twilight exchanged horrified looks, but before they could react, Pinkie Pie started humming a cheerful tune, completely oblivious to the escalating tension.

“Albanized or not, we’re not opening that door!” Twilight declared, her voice trembling. “We’re going to stay right here, safe and sound.”

Rarity, still struggling to wrap her mind around the concept of an ‘Albanian’, nodded and huddled closer to her friends. “Well, whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” she said, trying to sound brave despite the absurdity of the situation.

The three ponies, now firmly tucked into a corner of the boutique, listened intently as more strange noises came from outside. Twilight’s magic was flickering faintly around them, casting a soft lavender glow that did little to ease their nerves.

Pinkie, on the other hand, was still smiling, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Hey, do you think Albanized ponies like confetti? Because I’ve got a ton of it!”

With the three ponies huddled together in the corner of the boutique, the tension in the room was palpable. Twilight Sparkle kept glancing at the door, her ears twitching at every noise from outside, while Rarity nervously adjusted her mane for the tenth time in as many minutes. Pinkie Pie, however, seemed completely at ease, humming a catchy tune as if they were just waiting out a rainstorm rather than a potentially world-changing virus.

“Twilight, I’m not sure how much longer we can stay here,” Rarity whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I mean, what if somepony else needs help? Or what if that dreadful virus somehow sneaks its way in here?”

Twilight was about to respond when she noticed something odd. Pinkie Pie, who had been bouncing in place moments ago, had suddenly gone very still. Her eyes, normally bright and mischievous, were now glazed over as if she were deep in thought.

“Pinkie?” Twilight asked cautiously, her heart skipping a beat. “Are you feeling okay?”

Pinkie slowly turned her head to face them, and a strange, unfamiliar expression crossed her face—one that neither Twilight nor Rarity had ever seen before. It was a look of... determination? No, it was more than that. There was something almost regal in the way Pinkie held herself, as if she had just remembered something very important.

“Pinkie Pie?” Rarity asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Shhh,” Pinkie replied softly, raising a hoof as if silencing a classroom of rowdy students. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Twilight strained her ears, but all she could detect was the faint sound of wind outside.

“The call,” Pinkie said, her voice taking on a weight it had never carried before. “The call of my ponies.”

Rarity exchanged a concerned glance with Twilight, who was now inching closer to Pinkie, her horn glowing softly as she prepared a spell—just in case.

“Uh, Pinkie, maybe you should sit down,” Twilight suggested gently. “You might be coming down with something.”

But Pinkie shook her head, a smile spreading across her face as she seemed to grow more confident with each passing second. “Oh, Twilight, I’ve never felt better! In fact, I feel...incredible!”

Twilight and Rarity both recoiled slightly as Pinkie’s voice took on a thick accent, one that sounded nothing like her usual cheerful tones. It was deeper, more intense, and completely foreign.

“Ju nuk keni asgjë për t'u shqetësuar, miqtë e mi të vegjël!” Pinkie declared, her accent heavy as she beamed at them. “Kam vetëm një dëshirë tani—a të ndihmoj ju dhe gjithë popullin e Equestrisë të përqafojnë trashëgiminë time të mrekullueshme!”

“What?” Rarity mouthed to Twilight, who looked equally baffled.

Twilight’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh no... Pinkie, are you... Albanized?!”

“Albanized?” Rarity gasped, recoiling even further. “Oh, no, darling! Please tell me you’re joking!”

But Pinkie’s grin only grew wider. “Oh, po, Rarity! Nuk ka asgjë më të mrekullueshme se të jesh një shqiptare e vërtetë!” She clapped her hooves together with such enthusiasm that Rarity nearly toppled over. “Dhe unë jam krenare të them se jam tani një shqiptare e pastër!”

Twilight, now trembling slightly, reached out a hoof, her voice shaky. “Pinkie, maybe we can—uh—find a cure? I’m sure there’s some kind of antidote to this virus. We just have to—”

But Pinkie cut her off, leaping to her hooves with an energy that seemed boundless. “Antidotë?! Përse do të doja një antidotë kur kam fituar trashëgiminë më të madhe që dikush mund të ketë! Fërges Tirane dhe flamuri i Shqipërisë!” She practically danced around the room, her movements erratic but filled with joy.

Twilight and Rarity pressed themselves against the wall, eyes wide with horror as Pinkie continued to speak in the strange language. And then, before their very eyes, Pinkie’s mane began to take on a different hue—streaks of red and black appeared as if she were channeling the Albanian flag itself. Her usual carefree expression was replaced by one of fierce determination.

“Çamëria apër Shqipërinë!” Pinkie suddenly shouted, her voice booming with a patriotic fervor that shook the very walls of the boutique.

Twilight and Rarity screamed, their hooves clutched together in terror. “What do we do?!” Rarity wailed, her normally pristine appearance disheveled by panic. “She’s completely gone Albanian!”

Twilight’s mind was racing, trying to think of any spell, any potion, any book that might offer a solution, but all she could do was stare in disbelief as Pinkie’s transformation continued. It was as if the virus had tapped into some primal part of her, unlocking a side of Pinkie they had never imagined.

“Do not worry, little ponies,” Pinkie said, her accent now fully dominating her speech. She looked at them with eyes full of what could only be described as patriotic wisdom. “I will lead my fellow Albano-Ponies to victory. Together, we will reclaim our honor and bring glory to Shqipëria!”

And with that, before Twilight or Rarity could even blink, Pinkie darted to the door, her movements swift and purposeful. She pulled the barricade aside as if it weighed nothing, flung open the door, and dashed out into the street, her cries echoing through the empty town.

“Përgatituni për betejë!” she called out, her voice strong and commanding.

Twilight and Rarity scrambled to the door, peeking out just in time to see the incredible sight unfolding in the town square. Ponies, now clearly infected by the same virus, began assembling into orderly lines, their faces stern and serious. Some wore makeshift uniforms that resembled traditional Illyrian garb, others carried banners emblazoned with the double-headed eagle, and all of them moved with a sense of purpose and unity that was both awe-inspiring and utterly terrifying.

Rarity clutched at her chest, feeling faint as she watched the Albano-Ponies—her friends and neighbors—march in perfect synchrony. “What in Equestria is happening, Twilight? This... this isn’t normal!”

Twilight, her mouth agape, could only shake her head. “I... I don’t know, Rarity. I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s like they’ve all been taken over by some kind of... Albanian spirit!”

From the head of the procession, Pinkie Pie stood tall, her mane still streaked with red and black, her eyes blazing with a fervor that was almost contagious. She raised a hoof high, and the crowd fell silent, waiting for her command.

“We march!” she cried out, her voice ringing through the air. “For Albania! For our people! Përpara, Shqipëria!”

The crowd roared in response, and with that, they began to move, marching out of the town with a precision that was almost military. Twilight and Rarity could only watch in stunned silence as the Albano-Ponies—led by their once-cheerful friend—disappeared over the horizon.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Twilight and Rarity stood frozen in place, their minds struggling to process the surreal events that had just unfolded before them.

Finally, Rarity broke the silence, her voice trembling. “Twilight... what in the wide, wide world of sports just happened?”

Twilight didn’t answer immediately. She was still staring at the empty street, her mind racing with questions she had no answers to. But as the reality of the situation began to sink in, she turned to Rarity, her expression one of sheer disbelief.

“I... I think we just lost Pinkie Pie,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. “To Albania.”

Rarity’s eyes welled up with tears, not just from the shock of what they had witnessed, but from the deep, inexplicable sadness of losing their dear friend to something so utterly bizarre and unexpected. “DAMN IT, DAMN IT ALL TO TARTARUS!”.