KA-BOOM!
The thundering sound ripped Pinkie Pie from her sleep. She jumped so high, she almost banged her head on the ceiling. She was used to random things going bump in the night—Sugarcube corner was an old, creaky building, after all—but this was a bang so loud, it could wake up the whole neighbourhood!
That’s strange, Pinkie thought, rolling out of bed to investigate the noise. I’m sure I didn’t leave the oven on overnight this time.
Reaching the kitchen, she checked her usual baking appliances for any damage, yet found them all to be in functional working order. Scratching her head, Pinkie hummed to kickstart the gears in her brain. She loved mysteries where she got to play detective and put together the clues herself, but not at three in the morning.
Even as she confirmed the lack of residual cake inside the oven, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Then, she looked up through the front window. Under normal circumstances, the night sky was supposed to be dark, gently illuminated by the moon and stars, not glowing like a firefly on a sugar rush!
Fumbling around for the keys, she raced to unlock the door, eager to find the source of the funky light show. What she saw made her gasp. Smouldering in a crater not two feet away from her was a rock of tremendous size! It was so big, it would make her sister green with envy–or at least, a slightly darker shade of greenish blue than she already was–but the fact that it sparkled like a disco ball made it extra special.
So, Pinkie did what she figured any sensible mare would do in her situation: she licked it.
All at once, her tongue exploded in a firestorm of sweetness, expunging her sleepiness with the dazzle of candy and partying - her usual thoughts, but a hundred times more vivid.
“Holy mountain-peak frosting!” Pinkie exclaimed, hugging herself as she bounced around the meteorite on her tail. “Thank you Princess Luna for this amazing gift!”
Running back inside, Pinkie grabbed a spatula and a jar, scraping up every speck of the sparkling dust she could get her hooves on. With it collected, she rushed back inside, slamming the door and locking it behind her. She knew exactly what to make with this incredible new ingredient.
After pulling an all-nighter to get her everything baked, Pinkie still didn’t feel sleepy at all, so she decided to pay Fluttershy a visit for a taste test. She had been feeling quite ill, so Pinkie figured the new recipe would help take the edge off.
Once there, she knocked on the door with her signature hoof-rhythm and was promptly answered by Ponyville’s resident draconequs, Discord.
“Why, good morning, Pinkie Pie!” he greeted, stretching his arms as he slinked through the doorway, his head adorned with a small night cap. His eyes glinted at the basket placed on the doorstep. “Ah, now what do we have here?”
“You’re not gonna believe this,” Pinkie chirped, already buzzing at the chance to recount the previous night’s event. “But last night there was this big old meteor that fell from the sky, and it was like ‘woosh!’ then it was like ‘kablewy!’ and I went outside to investigate and then it was glowing with these sparkling colours all like ‘nyoooom’ and it didn’t look like marshmallows, but it did taste like marshmallows, so I made them into cupcakes!”
“I see…” Discord raised an eyebrow, though why he, of all creatures, would be sceptical of mixing cupcakes with space rocks, Pinkie could only guess. Picking up the basket, he took a long whiff, his whole body relaxing into a concatena coil as the fresh smell filled his nostrils. “Oh my goodness, that smells delightful! I’m guessing you made them for Fluttershy, correct?”
Pinkie nodded briskly, her elated smile unwavering. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s still sick and I wanted to cheer her up. But you’re welcome to eat a few too! I’ll be making enough for every creature in Ponyville twice over, but I figured Fluttershy should get the first bite.”
Discord grinned, tapping his fingers together in sequence. “And what will the payment be for such treats?”
“Oh, no need to pay me. This is just a get-well-soon gift for one of my bestest buddies in all Equestria!” Pinkie winked, nudging Discord with her elbow. “And you too, of course.”
“Well, if these taste as exquisite as they smell, I’m certain Fluttershy will appreciate your thoughtfulness. But please do send me some pieces of that mysterious space rock of yours, if you can. I’m curious to see it with my own eyes.” As if to emphasise the point, Discord slapped the back of his head to pop out his own eyeballs, both landing on Pinkie’s mane like a pair of goggles. Of course, he made sure to regenerate his own eyeballs in the process, blowing on his thumb to inflate a fresh pair in the empty sockets.
“I wish I knew how to do that!” Pinkie giggled. Every day she was thankful for Discord’s reformation; no creature ever managed to make her laugh like he did. “Anyway, I’mma go bake a fresh batch. Please tell Fluttershy I said ‘get well soon’ and ‘Snozberries’. I dunno why, but today feels like a Snozberry day.”
With that, Pinkie flipped herself around and skipped back down the garden path, leaving Discord to do whatever he would typically do during the day.
To say that Pinkie’s new cupcakes were well received would be like saying Nightmare Moon was a pain in the butt for Celestia; it was technically true, but also a wild understatement.
Her cupcakes were selling like hot cakes, which was an amusing phrase to Pinkie considering they were served hot from the oven. Either way, she was raking in the bits, a small fortune she’d save to surprise Mr and Mrs. Cake when they got back from vacation.
It wasn’t unusual for Pinkie’s treats to gain popularity—she did have a certain name recognition, after all—but what wasunusual was the fact that her customers wanted cupcakes, and only cupcakes. Not a single one of her other treats had sold that day, not even her double-sprinkled, Yakyakistan cream-topped, cinnamon-infused, double-triple donuts with extra sugar — a recipe that she had spent almost as long naming as she had baked.
Then again, it wasn’t often you got to taste something that was literally out of this world.
By the time she went to bed that night, Pinkie had baked another two dozen as pre-orders, leaving her pooped with a capital P. The moment she closed her eyes, she was in Dream Valley – a land where strange, near-hairless bipedal creatures lived alongside primitive, prehistoric ponies. Together, they faced giant diamond dogs that proudly declared their unending hatred for the concept of ‘soft’.
Pinkie loved playing along with dreams like these. She often found inspiration for parties or sweet treats amongst these more on-the-nose adventures, and with all the bright, saccharine pastel colours of this one, she knew she’d wake up refreshed and ready to write down recipes for her next big event.
“Say, Applejack,” she said to what she assumed as an ancestor of current-day Applejack. “Do you think that big meanie diamond dog would enjoy a pillow fight? Nothing brings a smile to a grumpy puppy’s face more than a pillow fight! Oh, oh, or maybe a pillow fort? Then I could be all like ‘sticks and stones may break my bones,but pillows are always comfy’ and it would realise that soft stuff isn’t so bad after all. What do you think?”
No reply. Usually dream ponies had something to say, even if it was garbled nonsense.
“Applejack? What’s–”
Applejack was melting. The skin on her face sagged and drooped in chewy chunks, her head caving in with a thick crack.
Pinkie screamed, stumbling away and slipping on something grainy. It was sugar, spilling out from Applejack’s guts. No, not from her guts, but from everything. Everywhere she looked, things were disintegrating, ponies, trees, even the mountains themselves.
Falling onto her back, Pinkie saw that it was raining, but not from the dark clouds that Pegasi usually made. No, these clouds were glowing, flashing with bright neon colours that looked like a sonic rainboom trapped inside.
The chocolate rain scalded her skin, burning away patches of flesh with each drop. Even the giant diamond dog could not resist, its jaws opening wide, wider than it should be capable of, and screaming a bellow so distorted Pinkie felt like her head was about to burst.
Then, she smiled. She didn’t want to smile, she wanted to keep screaming, but she couldn’t resist. Her cheeks rose, her grin broadening until she felt the bones in her jaw pop. She wanted to run, but her hooves were nothing but pink goop.
“Princess Luna!” Pinkie cried, barely able to form the words as her jaw split in two. She floated upwards, the remains of her dream world flowing into a flood, threatening to drown her. She was helpless, tossed around and around until her bones crunched.
This was a storm like no other, intense lightning flashing from pink, to red, to yellow, to blue and back again. The clouds swirled into thick spirals as the wind ripped trees from their foundations, while the mountains crumbled, vomiting more and more goop as mortal flesh and bone melted together into one, giant gelatinous mass.
And Pinkie laughed. She laughed and laughed, so hard that she couldn’t breathe, so hard that her stomach burst, her ribs cracking open and extending into spider-like appendages. It was then the chorus of screams and laughter merged, echoing and buzzing until, out of the din, words started to form.
THANK YOU FOR THE PARTIE, PINKIE!
This was not the voice of Princess Luna. This wasn’t a clear, commanding bellow that parted the clouds to rescue Pinkie from her nightmare. It was all around her, coming from everywhere, but also nowhere.
WE LIKE TO PARTY. WE LIKE, WE LIKE TO PARTY. WE LIKE TO PARTY. WE LIKE TO PARTY, PINKIE PIE!
Hey, Pinkie!
Equestria to Pinkie Pie.
“Wake up already!”
Pinkie gasped as she bolted upright, panting heavily.
“You okay there, Pinks?” asked Rainbow Dash, hovering over her bed. “You were rollin’ around so much, I thought you’d fall out of bed!”
“Oh, Rainbow Dash, thank Celestia it’s you.” Pinkie threw her hooves over her marefriend, nuzzling her cheek. “I had this horrible nightmare. There was this rock monster, and Applejack was made of sugar, and everything including me was dissolving, and and…”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Dash protested, peeling Pinkie off of her. “Slow down there, Pinks. What the heck are you talking about?”
Placing a hoof on her chest, Pinkie took a few calming breaths before poofing her mane back to its usual fluffiness. The nightmare was fading away already. “Eh, nevermind. It was just some silly dream anyway. So, what brings you here, Dashie? Did Fluttershy tell you how super ultra yummy my new cupcakes are?”
“Oh, come on, Pinkie!” Dash exclaimed, throwing a playful dig at her arm. “You sent me a sample box yesterday, remember?”
“I did?” Pinkie hummed as she rubbed her chin. She had invited all her friends to taste them, but she didn’t remember giving Dash a box, specifically. “Eh, I must’ve done so. Otherwise, how would you know it’s amazing?”
“Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re an amazing baker. But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve got something that’s gonna blow your little mind!”
Pinkie all but rocketed out of her bed, jumping so high she flew into the ceiling head hole she’d created for just such an occasion. “Oh my gosh! Dashie, you’ve got a surprise just for me?”
“You have no idea,” Dash rubbed her hooves together, grinning like she’d created the most cunning plan in the world – more cunning than the time she gave everypony the best snow day of their lives by exploding a Cloudsdale weather machine.
“Well don’t just hover there, looking all menacing. Show me, show me, show me!”
“Right this way, Miss Pie.” Dash landed and performed an exaggerated bow, folding her wing over her chest. Following Pinkie as she hopped down the stairs, Dash raced ahead of her just before she could open the door. “Please, allow me.”
Pinkie was buzzed with excitement. Literally. She was vibrating so hard she created a perfect Pinkie Pie-shaped hole in the floor. What could Dash have in store for her that was so incredible? Was it a chocolate fountain the size of Twilight’s Castle? Was it a personal concert of entirely original songs by the one and only Cheese Sandwich? Was it the mother of all party canons that would cover the entirety of Ponyville in confetti?
“Surprise! Happy Birthday, Pinkie Pie!”
Pinkie’s eyes went wide at the sight beyond the door. The entirety of Ponyville had turned out to create one ginormous party, just for her! Pinkie could’ve sworn that her Birthday wasn’t until next month, but given the amount of parties she personally organised, it was easy to lose track of time.
Everywhere she looked, she saw something that made her heart do backflips. Bright, colourful banners hung from every house, confetti burst from streamers like a twenty-one party cannon salute, and to top it all off, Vinyl Scratch had busted out her mobile DJ set, rumbling down the street while blasting remixes of Pinkie’s favourite tunes.
“So, how do you like it?” asked Rainbow, immediately tackle-glomped by Pinkie, smothering her with kisses.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much, Dashie. This is going to be the bestest birthday/unbirthday ever!”
“I love you too, Pinkie,” Dash chuckled, returning one of the kisses. “You made me the happiest mare in all Equestria, and I was itching to return the favour! Now, how do you like the sound of a good old fashioned piňata?”
Pinkie Pie had never been crowd surfing before. She’d done cake surfing (after adding just a little too much baking soda for a grown dragon’s birthday cake) and she’d done alligator surfing (no one believed her that’s how she got Gummie as a pet), but crowd surfing was a new one. She had thought it was saved only for the biggest of the big rock stars, so it stood to reason that her cupcakes were the biggest event this side of Twilight’s coronation.
Carried on a sea of hooves, she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the crowd’s ecstatic chants of her name fill her ears, harmonising with the thick, thumping bass rhythms that echoed through every street. Under the directions of Rainbow Dash, the crowd carried Pinkie to the town hall, wherein she spied not one, not two, but six whole piňatas dangling from the roof. Naturally, Major Mare stood on the podium outside, handing out baseball bats to those who looked itching to get stuck in.
What impressed Pinkie, however, was the piňatas design. Each one was a marvel of construction, bearing likenesses identical to those of Tartarus’ most notorious prisoners. She spotted Tirek, Queen Chrysalis, Cozy Glow, the Chimera, Grogar and… Gilda?
That struck her as odd. Sure, Gilda had been a big-old meanie when she first arrived in Ponyville, but not worthy of imprisonment. Since Pinkie’s last visit to Griffonstone with Rainbow Dash, Gilda had apologised for her past behaviour, learning to be a better creature. Perhaps the citizens of Ponyville didn’t get that memo?
Whatever the reason, Pinkie decided to shelve her questions for now, instead marvelling at their quality. Everything, from the feathers, to the beak, and even Grogar’s fur, looked spot on to the real thing.
“And here she is!” announced Mayor Mare, shaking Pinkie’s hoof once the crowd had deposited her. She’d dolled herself up fancy, her coat shining and not a stray hair poking from her well-combed mane. “The mare of the hour. I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done for Ponyville over the years. Your commitment to everypony’s—no, every creature’s—smiles is astonishing.”
From behind the podium, Mayor retrieved a baseball bat and placed it in Pinkie’s waiting hooves. “So, without further ado, let’s get into the swing of things!”
Pinkie didn’t need to be told twice. Rearing up onto her hind legs, she slammed the bat into the gut of the Gilda piňata. Then she whacked it again and again, with greater and greater fervour, her heart pounding. Blood sang in her veins from the destruction, her eyes blazing at the sight of Gilda piňata’s burst belly.
She didn’t want to stop. This was a level of catharsis that she hadn’t felt in a long time, a mountain of joy crushing any negative feelings she might have had.
Soon enough, both kids and adults alike gathered around the half-obliterated piňata, hoovering up hoof-fulls of candy and pieces of feathered hide. It was an apt simile, as it wasn’t just the outside which had been detailed. The artist had gone above and beyond in their creation, moulding muscles and bones with the same attention to detail.
It was then that Pinkie felt something sloshing against her hind hooves. Looking down, she found herself covered in the splatter of strawberry jam, the sticky semi-fluid flowing freely across the town hall’s lower deck. She licked her lips, confirming that it did indeed taste like strawberry, but also with the smallest hint of copper in the aftertaste.
Help…
Pinkie dropped the bat, recoiling backwards. Why was the piňata crying?
Can’t wake up…
“What’s up, Pinks?” Dash startled Pinkie as she landed behind her.
“Oh, nothing! Nothing at all!” Pinkie giggled. Of course Rainbow Dash was messing with her. What kind of party would it be without one good prank?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dash narrowed her eyes. No matter how much she loved pulling pranks, she wasn’t oblivious to the feelings of others. “I’ve never seen you hesitate around a piňata before.”
“Well, now that you mention it…” Pinkie began, but shook her head, dismissing the thought. It wasn’t Dash’s fault she took the prank so seriously. “Nah, don’t worry about it. You sure know how to pull a fast one, Dashie.”
“Huh?” Dash tilted her head with a bug-eyed expression. “Pinkie, what’s gotten into you? You’re making less sense than usual – and that’s saying something. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I know, I know! Really, everything’s fine,” Pinkie chuckled, grabbing her head and snapping it around with a loud crack. “My Pinkie sense needs recalibration. I thought I just saw the piňata move! Crazy, right?”
“Well, duh, of course it moved.” Dash shrugged. “It’d be weird if it didn’t move after being hit with a baseball bat.”
“No, I mean, like–” Pinkie looked back at the piňata. It was no longer crying and its face had returned to its default grumpy expression. Yet still Pinkie couldn’t shake the feeling something was different. Was its head always tilted towards her?
“Pinkie?”
“Oh! I remember now.” Pinkie shook her head, clearing away her intrusive thoughts. It had to be the nightmare that rattled her so much. Whether Dash would own up to it or not, her prank had been effective. “I was just thinking, ‘Wow, these piňatas would be perfect for this year’s nightmare night’! Whoever made them has amazing attention to detail.”
“Oh, that’s probably Rarity’s doing.” Dash leant in, whispering in a way that always made Pinkie feel tingly inside. “And just between you and me, I heard she’s got the biggest surprise of all!”
“Now you’re speaking my language! What kind of surprise is it?”
“Oh please, Pinkie. You know it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you about it! Now, how about you and me hit the dance floor? You would not believe how sick DJ-Pon3’s new tunes are!”
“Well I hope it’s not that sick, ‘cause the last thing a party needs is ponies who’re too ill to dance!”
Before she skipped off toward the park, Pinkie spared one last glance over her shoulder at the piňatas. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Tirek reaching out for her, until Twilight trotted out from the town hall to envelop the stray appendage in her magic.
She did wonder why Dash hadn’t mentioned Twilight’s involvement in the design, but that was a question for later. She had a dance floor to attend.
It took Pinkie some time to reach the gardens through the amassed crowds. It felt like every other pony wanted to shake her hoof and say happy birthday. She thanked them all, of course, but after the hundred and fiftieth pony barged their way through the crowds to see her, even she was feeling a little worn down.
Thankfully, the party was far from over by the time she arrived. Ponies were dancing like there was no tomorrow, jumping and swaying to every note without a single beat missed. She was impressed, as Vinyl Scratch’s bass-thumping electro dance music was famously so intense.
The stage from which Vinyl performed was bigger than anything Pinkie had seen in her life. Though she could only guess at the exact measurements, it looked to be at least fifty feet across and ten feet high, stuffed from wall-to-wall with speakers and DJ equipment. Such a massive throne of wubs kept Vinyl as busy as the dancers, teleporting from turntable to turntable to ensure every track was synched up. Already, the blaring beats were working its way into Pinkie’s system, igniting her muscles with an infectious groove.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie! Over here!” Before Pinkie could make it to the dance floor, her ears pricked up at the familiar voice of Applejack—barely audible over the deafening music—calling to her. She sat behind her Cinder booth while attending to a long queue of tongue-lolling ponies eager for her new, exciting blend.
“Hi, Applejack!” Pinkie chirped, hopping toward her. “How’s everything go–”
“Oh no you don’t!”
Not two hops towards Applejack’s stall, Pinkie felt a pair of hooves shoving her sideways, forceful enough to knock her off her hooves. Looking up, she saw Moon Dancer—one of Twilight’s old friends from Canterlot—snarling at her.
It took a moment for Pinkie to recognise her. While Moon Dancer was nowhere near as prim-and-proper as Rarity, she did at least take a distinct pride in her appearance. Whether studying at the Canterlot Library or visiting Twilight’s castle, she kept her hair tied in a neat little bow, dressing herself in a simple, navy-blue sweater.
Today, however, she wasn’t wearing anything, not even her glasses, and her red-and-blue streaked mane lay long and dishevelled down the back of her neck. To Pinkie, she looked like she’d just woken up, with dark, sagging circles hanging under her eyes.
“Nopony’s going to cut in front of me and get away with it!” Moon Dancer growled. Despite her aggressive behaviour, her request wasn’t unreasonable. On any other day, Pinkie would’ve happily waited her turn, but she wasn’t interested in drinks at the moment. All Pinkie had to do was clear the air about her intentions, and everything would be hunkey-dorey.
“Oh, sorry, Moon Dancer!” she said as she dusted herself off. “I didn’t mean to cut in line. I was just gonna–”
“Keep your filthy hooves off my friend!” Rainbow Dash swooped down, delivering a heavy uppercut right into Moon Dancer’s jaw, sending her flying backwards. “Nopony assaults my marefriend and gets away with it!”
“Come on now, Dash, that wasn’t necce–”
Moon Dancer quickly leapt back to her hooves, shifting the target of her ire, not to Rainbow Dash, but to Lemon Hearts, who had shuffled forward to close the gap.
“Hey, lemon-for-brains, that’s my spot you’re standing in!”
Lemon Hearts blew Dancer a raspberry. “Nuh-uh, you left the line. That means you gave up your spot.”
“C’mon, girls, there’s no need to fight! We’ve got plenty of Cider to go around! Right, AJ?”
Applejack wasn’t even looking at the commotion, instead turning her back to pour another pint of cider from the stack of barrels behind her. When Pinkie looked back, her jaw dropped. What began as a grumpy spat had broken into a full-on brawl, with more and more ponies piling in. There was no chance to stop them, so all she could do was wince at the sound of crunching bones as the ponies ripped into each other.
It was a whirlwind of violence like none Pinkie had seen, chaotic to the point where she couldn’t follow who was attacking who. She felt her stomach churn as some attempted to crawl away, only to get dragged back in to be pounded further into oblivion. No amount of Cider could ever be worth all this. This had to be another elaborate prank, just like with the piňatas. Or maybe it was all a bad dream, after all?
Even after witnessing all this, the fight wasn’t enough to anger AJ. All she did was shrug, let out a little sigh, then nodded to two black-clad unicorn security guards flanking her booth. In a flash, they teleported between the brawlers, trapping the survivors in bubbles while picking out the instigators.
“Sorry about that, Miss Pie,” one of the guards said. He was a red stallion, standing two heads taller than everypony else and speaking with a voice deeper than Big Mac’s. Were it not for the obvious horn sticking out of his blonde mane, Pinkie could’ve sworn he was Big Mac. “We’ll deal with these rabble-rousers. You go on and enjoy your Birthday.”
With a small, curt bow, the guards dragged Moon Dancer and Lemon Hearts away, disappearing behind the stage. Pinkie continued to stand there in shock, her whole body numb. She’d seen ponies go wild at her parties before, but never this. Her stomach churned, but she suppressed the urge to throw up. The last thing she wanted was to cause more problems at her own birthday party.
“Thank Celestia that’s over with. You okay there, Pinks?”
Pinkie didn’t respond, still processing how quickly the fight had turned violent.
“Yoo-hoo, Pinkie Pie?” Dash grabbed Pinkie’s cheek between her hooves, looking her right in the eye. Now that Pinkie thought about it, Dash’s eyes looked off. Her marefriend’s eyes looked cloudy, like her vision was fading – though she didn’t act like she’d gone blind.
“Dashie? Is that you?” Pinkie managed, her voice wobbling.
“Well, yeah? Who else would I be?”
“Oh, of course,” Pinkie chuckled awkwardly, tensing her knees to stop them from shaking. “Say, Dashie. You saw the big fight that happened just now, right?”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Didn’t Moon Dancer look… I dunno, more out of it than usual?” This may have been the understatement of the century, but Pinkie had to confirm she wasn’t hallucinating from bad muffins before she said anything wild.
“Oh, her?” Dash answered with a shrug, staring off into the distance. If anything, she looked agitated, rocking from side to side and twitching her wings. “They were probably just drunk or something.”
Pinkie did a double take. “Drunk? But Applejack’s cider doesn’t have any alcohol!”
“Well maybe it does today, who cares? Everypony’s chugging the stuff today, so she must be doing something right.”
“Indeed I am. It’s called ‘good business’.” Applejack puffed out her chest as she slid another pint across the counter. “This is the best my Cider’s ever sold! Go ahead, sugarcube. Try one for yourself.”
Pinkie hesitated in picking up the tankard. The last thing she wanted was another brawl. She hadn’t been in the mood to drink before–only to make some small talk before hitting the dancefloor–but after what she just witnessed, a pint or two wouldn’t hurt.
“Now don’t you worry about any more fightin’, sugarcube,” Applejack drawled, picking up on Pinkie’s anxious expression. “I have a feelin’ folks here are done kickin’ up a fuss, lest they also wanna get their butts kicked out. Ain’t that right, Rainbow?”
“Yeah! You heard the mare.” Dash glared over the remaining ponies in the queue, positioning herself against the rising sun to cast a long shadow over those beneath her. Some audibly gulped, but most didn’t seem bothered enough to acknowledge it. “And if anypony thinks to mess with my marefriend again, you’re gonna have to answer to me, Rainbow Dash: Lord of the Dark Skies!”
Pinkie snorted, almost spitting out her drink. “Now when did you get such a silly title, Dashie?”
“Just now!” Dash beamed, her broad, scheming grin returning to her face. “I figured, if I’m gonna be my marefriend’s bodyguard, then I need a big dramatic title to keep everypony in line. Literally!”
Typical Rainbow Dash, Pinkie thought, taking another swig of her Cider. Tough pony on the outside, big softie on the inside.
Swirling the cider around in her mouth, Pinkie understood what Applejack meant by ‘best Cider ever’. This brew was extra fizzy, accentuating the potency of the apples used to make it. Her whole mouth was tingling with a sweetness beyond even the most sugar-laden candy she could make, save maybe for the sparkling muffins she’d made yesterday. It was no wonder ponies were falling over themselves – in some cases, literally – to get it.
By the time Pinkie finished her first pint, she was already feeling its inebriating effects. The shock of the fight just minutes before had vanished, replaced by the heaviest case of the jitters she had ever felt. It was like the concept of stillness was abhorrent to her muscles, twitching and flexing in perfect synchronicity with the background music.
Even her eyes couldn’t remain still, her irises widening and contracting, blurring her vision in a way that made everything look like fluctuating in waves. Nothing was constant anymore, the sky a bright, flashy disco ball rotating between fuzzy, over-saturated colours. What had Applejack put into this Cider?
Before she could stop herself, Pinkie found herself grabbing Rainbow Dash’s tail and pulling her down, locking lips with her in the biggest, wettest kiss she had ever given.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Dash said, coming up for air. “Another Cider please, AJ!”
“Comin’ right up.” Applejack filled another tankard, tossed it into the air and bucked it over to Rainbow Dash, not spilling a single drop as she caught it, chugged it, then dragged Pinkie over to the dancing area.
By this point, they were doing more than just kissing. They were wrestling lips, falling to the ground and clambering over one another without a shred of care for who was watching — even as Dash slid her leg between Pinkie’s.
“Looks like the dance floor’s heating up already!” announced Vinyl Scratch over the speakers. “How about we give these horny mares an extra special song and celebrate their lovemaking!”
Vinyl flipped the records, cranked the volume and hit the play button. In her magic, she manifested two long, spindly arms—both of which ended in rake-like claws—giving her the reach to mix the secondary and tertiary turntables on the stage’s far sides simultaneously.
The sonic blast was immense, the bass notes so loud it sent Pinkie and Dash tumbling backwards. Pinkie had gone all the way while listening to music before, but the noise coming out of those speakers could barely be called that.
Those closest to the stage plugged their ears with their hooves, blood trickling down the sides of their heads. This didn’t stop them from dancing, however. Their hind hooves flailed about with wild abandon.
The sound was so intense, it pierced straight through Pinkie’s mental haze, waking her up to the realisation of what she was doing. Any shame she may have felt toward her public display was lost amongst the sudden riptide of pain, drilling through her head.
She tried to break away from Dash, but she kept going, pulling her back down, grinding her dripping marehood against Pinkie’s thigh.
“Dashie, please, stop it!” Pinkie protested, pulling in her hind legs to push her marefriend away. “This isn’t right! None of this is right. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this party is going way too far.”
Rainbow Dash rolled to her hooves, flaring her wings and pulling back her lips in a fierce, animalistic snarl. “Pinkie, what the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, her words slurring into a barely comprehensible sludge, moaning and rubbing her legs together, as if unable to stop.
“Dashie, I–”
“Don’t you fucking ‘Dashie’ me!” Rainbow Dash gnashed her teeth and snapped forward. “You can’t just get me hot like that without finishing the job! I’m giving you my all to make this a special party, so why can’t you give a mare a break and just fuck me already?!”
“No, that’s not what I meant!” Pinkie quivered, barely able to hear herself speak over the din. This wasn’t the real Rainbow Dash, it couldn’t be. Never in a million, billion years would Dash ever try and guilt trip her into sex, no matter how turned on she was.
Wake up! Pinkie screamed at herself internally. Wake up and find the real Rainbow Dash, my sweetheart who always listens to me. Wake up, stupid! Wake up, wake up, wake up!
“Some party this is,” the not-Rainbow Dash said. “I’m gonna go find some other mare to fuck, who’s as loyal to me as I am to them.”
“No!” Pinkie screamed, tears streaming down her face as she reached out to Dash. But before she could apologise, Rainbow Dash was gone, shooting her skyward at a speed that instantly shattered through the sound barrier.
This was a feat only Rainbow Dash — the real Rainbow Dash — could achieve: the Sonic Rainboom. Pinkie had seen this plenty of times before, but this Rainboom was not like the others. This time, the explosion of light did not confine itself to a single trail or expanding rings, but instead in a thick mushroom cloud, spirals of colour swirling across the sky.
The earth shook from the blast’s force, splitting open and spewing forth huge geysers of swampy, pastel-coloured water. Yet even the dance floor’s destruction was not enough for ponies to stop. Vinyl’s music kept on getting louder, forcing Pinkie to shove dirt in her ears as makeshift earplugs. She was about to run back to Applejack for help, but she, too, was occupied, standing on her table with a crossbow in her hooves, shooting through the head any pony who dared to break formation.
“I’ve poured my heart and soul into making this Cider brew,” she yelled. Her eyes had turned a deep shade of pink, and she spat bubbling froth from her mouth with each word. “Y’all are gonna wait your turn, or else I’ll make sure ya never drink a drop of Cider ever again. Do y’all hear me?!”
Pinkie watched in wide-eyed horror as more and more ponies started fighting with each other, while others still tried to take advantage of the confusion to reorganise the queue in their favour. Through it all, Applejack was laughing.
“What’s the matter, Pinkie Pie?” she asked, pushing toward Pinkie a tankard of Cider mixed with pony blood. “Why aren’t ya smiling? Business is booming! We all like to party.”
“No!” Pinkie screamed, smashing the tankard on the ground. “You’re not the real Applejack and this isn’t a real party!”
“Oh, we’re just getting started, Pinkie Pie!” Vinyl’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker, somehow even louder than her music. “It’s time to announce the guests of honour! First of all, Miss Rarity Belle, and her fabulous new fall formal fashion line!”
Whatever it was that Vinyl intended to reveal, Pinkie didn’t want to know. This was a problem far beyond anything she could solve alone. She had to find Princess Luna and wake up from this nightmare as soon as possible.
Too late did she realise she was already surrounded. Between the drunken brawlers and drooling dancers, there was nowhere she could go that wouldn’t require fighting off a horde that had lost all sense of self-control. Even if she somehow made it out uninjured, she would undoubtedly have to hurt, or even kill, other ponies in the process.
The very notion of killing another pony made her gag. She was the Element of Laughter! Sure, she’d fought off changelings before, but she’d never killed them.
Falling to her knees, Pinkie Pie screamed. She screamed until her throat went raw, shutting her eyes tight and thumping her head on the ground over and over. “Wake up, Pinkie! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”
Thick, pink goop rose around Pinkie’s ankles, burning away at her flesh like hot acid. The pain was immense, more than she’d ever felt before, forcing her eyes open as her hind legs melted out from under her.
“Party, Pinkie Pie!” came the raspy voice of the not-Rainbow Dash from nowhere. “Party fun! Party, party party!”
“Rarity, help me! Please!” Pinkie cried, hoping against hope her last remaining friends would free her from this nightmare. Vinyl Scratch’s horn had illuminated bright purple, conjuring a crystal runway that extended across the dance floor.
And it was on that runway Pinkie saw what Rarity had become. Gaunt, hooves bleeding, mouth hung agape – but worst of all was what she was wearing. Her dress was not made of fabric, but of hair and skin, cutie marks cut from the flesh of Moon Dancer, Lemon Hearts, and countless others whom Applejack’s body guards had killed.
“Wonderful!” Rarity proclaimed, her jaw opening wide, wider, then wider still. Then she screamed, a harrowing wail calling all remaining Ponyville citizens. “Simply, utterly wonderful!”
“And so we come to our grand finale!” Vinyl announced, her regular limbs stretching into spindly, crab-like legs. “Allow me to introduce you to the one behind Ponyville’s greatest ever party: Discord!”
By this point, Pinkie had stopped struggling. She was exhausted, unable to do anything more than stare blankly as the houses around her began to dissolve, breaking from their foundations and floating into the air.
Then, Rarity collapsed, her limbs spasming as every bone in her body snapped one after the other. From her now broken jaw, a kaleidoscope of pulsating magic shot out, creating a portal that heralded the final, grotesque parade.
The first ponies out were Octavia, leading the Canterlot Philharmonic Orchestra to conduct their symphony of the damned. Not one pony remained unchanged, their bodies bursting open to play musical instruments of muscle and bone.
Next came Twilight Sparkle, though among all of Pinkie’s friends, she was the most unrecognisable. No longer the Alicorn Princess of Friendship, she walked on six, segmented, arachnid legs. Her purple-feathered wings were now a web of finger-like bones, across which stretched bare skin, more akin to a bat than a Pegasus. Instead of forehooves, she had grown thick lobster claws, carrying a trident staff topped with three, glowing purple gemstones.
Worst of all was her mouth. Instead of a single jaw, it had broken into three mandibles, chittering long strings of incomprehensible gibberish below three sunken, compound eyes that looked in every direction at once. Instead of a single unicorn horn, she now had three, spiralling goat horns, arcs of purple lightning shooting from their tips and striking random ponies, mutating them into lesser versions of her own daemonic form.
Then, at last, came Fluttershy and Discord, though it was quickly apparent they were now one and the same. This new, fused being was everything the two had been in life, and more, its limbs transforming at random in bright, magical flickers. One second, Fluttershy’s mane and bat wings sat upon Discord’s head and back, then it was Fluttershy’s head on the end of a long, yellow-scaled serpentine body.
So fast did the thing’s body parts change, it was impossible for Pinkie to keep up with, with some instances looking more like abstract shapes than any living creature.
“Princess Luna…” Pinkie croaked, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow bursts. “Please, let me wake up. I can’t take it anymore. I’m begging you, please please please make this nightmare go away.”
“Oh, my dear Pinkie Pie, this is all very real,” Discord said, its voice like an amalgamation of every creature she had ever known. “And I must thank you. Without you, I could have never realised the truth.”
Pinkie felt Discord’s words flayed her soul open. It was lying. It had to be.
“Why do you think I wanted to investigate that space rock of yours? The sparkle you added to your cupcakes was a message from the Gods, awakening my mind to the truth of the universe. Oh, the visions I saw were simply wonderful, grander than anything even Celestia herself could comprehend. I have seen stars explode at the click of fingers, I have seen jaws big enough to devour galaxies, pulling the strings of creation to re-order planets on a whim.
“But if there is one thing I have come to understand the most, my dear Pinkie, is a single, shared value between us and those from the great beyond. Laughter! We are but toys in a great, universal sandbox, the playthings of cosmic immortals! And so, Pinkie Pie, I bring to you everything you could ever want from a party, drawing forth the greatest excesses of pleasure from the very depths of pony desire. I bring to you the ultimate party, because after all, who doesn’t like to party?”
Led by Discord, the entire population of Ponyville began to chant, a song that would haunt Pinkie’s dreams forevermore. “We like to party! We like, we like to party! We like to party, Pinkie Pie!”
And Pinkie smiled. She smiled wider than she ever had before in her life. Her mane had deflated, yet still she was laughing, a bright, cackling fit of overwhelming joy. She did, indeed, like to party.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading this gruesome tale! This is much more graphic than my usual preferences, but I felt it warranted in depicting Ponyville's fall to Slaanesh. While this isn't a direct crossover with the Warhammer universe, it's still heavily inspired by the Emperor's Children lore, particularly in reference to the Maraviglia from the novel Fulgrim by Graham McNeill. That novel is a bit of a slow burn to start, but trust me when I say when it gets good, it gets incredible!
