Why Can't I Hold all of these Cupcakes?
Why Can't I Hold all of these Cupcakes?
One day Twilight Sparkle was walking through Horseville when all of a sudden Pinkie Pie came running down the street screaming, “Oh my gosh, Twilight. You must come with me immediately. I have something amazing to show you.”
Twinkle sighed, as she had previously planned to go to the book library store that day, “Can’t it wait, Pinkie? I wanted to purchase the latest edition of-”
“No, it cannot!” the pink horse declared. Ponkle grabbed the unicron by the horn and dragged her off to SugarCube Croner.
Twinpeaks Spaghetti trotted into the bakery, hoping whatever her friend had in store for her would have been worth the interruption. She imagined that whatever it was, it was probably delicious, which was just enough to hold her attention, “So where’s the party, Pinkie?”
“Oh, the party is downstairs in the cellar,” Piggie Pie said, “I just need your help with a few finishing touches and then we will be set.”
It made no significant sense. Why hold a party in a cellar? Tulip Spraycan peered down the eerie staircase that looked like something out of a cheesy horror movie. But before she could cough up a question, a pot splattered the back of her skull.
Parmesan Pie gave a deranged snort as the poor unicorn tumbled down the steps and right into her trap, “Why do they always fall for it?” She had attempted a silly pun, which otherwise might’ve gained an amused grin or nod, but her obnoxious cackle would never have caught the hint.
Pickle quickly followed the neck breaking thumps and closed the door behind her.
A rusty lamp sparked to life with a radiating hum surrounded by a dark room and a devious yet somehow comical grin. Prickly had adorned herself in a fabulous gown made up of stitched skin that she’d collected over the many months. It had by now of course hardened due to the inventible entropy of decay, and felt somewhat like a slutty towel, but it was the only one she had after all and she wasn’t about to break tradition. She’d come too far not to introduce her dramatic plot reveal.
Twinkie, battered and bruised, had been strapped to a cold moldy table covered in a nutritious mixture of what was probably blood, tears and urine. Her head was fixed in place and she might’ve noticed her predicament had her banging head given her enough room to focus.
Porcupine giggled maniacally; eagerly awaiting the unicorn to join the party, “It is time to wake up, Twilight. It’s your birthday!”
An eye batted as Twilickitysplit did her best to gain her focus. All she saw was a rusted gore splattered room. It smelled awful, like a glue factory that had been built right next to a beef farm that had also been built right next to a Waffle House,“What? But my birthday was two months ago.”
PinkPink grabbed a rusty chainsaw from her table and scampered over like some sort of goblin, “Oh, well, uhm, in that case I’m simply going to torture, dissect and murder you for my amusement.”
“Oh no! Why have you done this, Pinkie Pie. This is not what good friends do for each other.” Talcum Powder struggled to free herself from the operating table, but her captor had taken the appropriate measures.
“It is because I am deranged and clearly insane yet apparently competent enough to conceal my murders,” she knew the unicorn’s magic all too well, and wasn’t about to let her escape with it.
Pinecone cranked her chainsaw and didn’t even wait for it to reach an appropriate rhythm before boring it into the side of her latest victim’s horn.
“Oh no!” Triangle Sparkplug cried out.
A spray of purple sparks tainted in red mist splattered across the room like a gassy soda pop, and with another grinding budge, the tip snapped and ricocheted off of a wall, “I cannot allow you to gain the upper hoof, now can I, Twilight?”
Blood and bits of stardust began leaking all over her crinkled face, “I am very disappointed in you, Pinkie Pie. How dare you do this to me. This is very unprofessional and I am extremely upset and I will contact your supervisors to complain of this matter.”
Pixiesticks tossed away the chainsaw, “You will do no such thing,” she then retreated to her operating cart and salvaged a scalpel, “They are on vacation and won’t be back until next week.”
“Well then I will write a scathing letter to them explaining my outrage and my recommendation of your immediate termination at SugarCube Corner.” Tacklebox explained.
Pingpong nearly dropped her scalpel, “No! You will not do this because I have sabotaged the complaints box at the front counter!”
“Well then I will hand it to them personally and I will also explain to them your sick corruption of proper customer service. Ponies have a right to voice their grievances and I will not let you take that away.”
“Silence!” Prickly Pete stabbed the scalpel into the unicorn’s flank.
“Ouch.”
She began cutting around the star studded cutie mark, determined to add it to her growing ensemble. Her dress had become brittle, and so she was going to need a new one eventually. She tore and sliced away at the sinew and muscle until there was barely enough left to help Pinkerton from tearing it clean off.
“Ouch. Please return that to me immediately, Pinkie Pie.”
“No, it is mine now. As you can see, I require your cutie mark for my dress,” she place the mark on a pan and then proceeded to carve up Tinkerbell’s other flank.
“I do not like your dress, Pinkie. It is in poor taste and lacks in any fashion sense.”
Pots and Pans stopped cutting, “How dare you insult my dress! I have worked very hard on it and although I do appreciate constructive criticism, you’ve simply gone too far!” She could hardly hold back her blubbering tears.
“Well it is my opinion and I am entitled to it, Pinkie. If you wanted to make a dress, there are far simpler ways. The choice in fabric is extremely important and you should have known beforehand that skin shrivels and hardens with decay. Besides, your choice of colors clash far too much with one another and betray the original design.”
“All I wanted was validation!” Parrot Pie cried.
“It is okay, Pinkie. On second thought, I suppose it isn’t so bad and I have now noticed the expertise used in the stitching. I am sure Rarity would be proud of you.”
“Oh, do you really think so, Twilight?” she wiped away a tear, “I am actually quite shy in my talents and was worried that Rarity would be too overwhelmed to help me sew my ensemble together.”
Triceratops Spanish smiled, “I’m sure she would be glad to help you if you simply asked, Pinkie.”
“Thankyou, Twilight. I appreciate your criticism and I will exercise your advice,” she picked up her little scalpel and stabbed it back into Twinkle’s last cutie mark.
“Ouch.”
Peter Pan tossed the bloody cutie mark onto her operating cart. Rarity’s fashion lessons would definitely prove valuable, that is, until the diva would eventually find herself underneath SugarCube Corner.
Peanut Pie put down the dripping scalpel and hobbled over to a rather damp end of the basement. She returned lugging over a large pair rusted of bullhorn cutters.
“Excuse me, but what are you going to do with those, Pinkie Pie?” asked Token Sprinkle.
Pinkie Poop giggled and rested the maw around one of the unicorn’s front hooves, “I am going to cut off your hooves in order to drain your blood.”
“That isn’t exactly a very efficient way to drain blood.” The patient retorted.
“Yes it is! If I cut off all of your legs, the blood will easily poor out and it will still provide me enough time to torture you before you die.”
“But it is not very humane and you are violating my civil rights under this conduct. Besides, making an incision in the carotid artery is the most effective way to drain blood.”
“I do not care for your medical degree nor do I care for civil rights as I am in fact a racist.” Peanutbutter Pie laughed and clamped down the teeth. In a terrible flesh tearing and bone crunching bundle of cracks, the purple marshmallow of a hoof fell and tumbled onto the floor. A stub of splintered bone surrounded in a sushi roll of wet flesh could do little to stop the torrent of leaking blood.
“Ouch, that hurt, Pinkie Pie,” said Twinkletits Submarine.
The pink psychopath giggled horribly and proceeded to snap off her other front hoof as well.
“Stop that,” protested the unicorn, “I do not appreciate what you are doing, Pinkie Pie.”
Pipe Wrench tossed aside the cutters, and grabbed the set of bloody hooves off of the floor before placing them on either side of her head, “See? Now I can make an adorable set of headphones out of them.”
“But Pinkie, those hooves are made of solid keratin. You are going to have to dig out quite a lot of it to leave room to install a set of speakers,” explained Trilateral Springroll, “Besides, for all of the trouble it would cost you to run a wire through the bone and muscle, you may as well purchase a brand new pair of normal headphones.”
“But I’ve already attached a sentimental value to them, Twilight!”
“That is not fair because I was the first to attach sentimental value to them, Pinkie” whined Tartar Sauce.
“Well, too bad because they are mine now. I will take your other hooves as well to make a second pair of headphones and sell them for a profit!” declared Pineapple. With a gnashing crunch of rusted metal, Typewriter’s last two hooves fell to the floor.
The hornless unicorn was no more than a bloody torso covered in leaky stumps, “Ouch, I can’t believe you’ve done this, Pinkie Pie! I am going to report you to the proper authorities for this violent act that you have committed against me.”
“But how will you do that without your magic or legs, Twilight?”
“Uh, I uhm, uh, I will simply use the handicapped accessible ramp within your bakery to access the telephone!”
“But how will you dial the numbers, Twilight?”
Tapeworm Stapler couldn’t quite come up with an appropriate answer that could defy her captor well enough, “Well, uh, I don’t know! Perhaps I will ask for assistance from one of my friends.”
“No! That cannot happen! No one must know of my secret!”
“But how will I go on this way, Pinkie Pie?”
“You will not! Because you will get really extra dead!” Pocahontas grabbed an unwashed knife, which was quite unsanitary and jabbed it into the poor pony’s stomach.
“Ouch, cut that out, Pinkie. You are not a very nice person and I am suddenly beginning to question our friendship,” said Twentieth Century Fox.
Papercut Pie carved through the pony’s abdomen with an insatiable cackle until her victim’s guts were open for all to see, “These cupcakes are going to taste delicious!”
“Cupcakes? That doesn’t make any sense Pinkie Pie. My stomach is not made of cupcakes.”
She giggled, “Oh, I mean that I am going to harvest your organs and then bake them into cupcakes. Then I will serve them to the unknowing public as some sort of demented joke. No one will ever notice!”
“Ah, that is quite clever of you, Pinkie.”
“Oh, why thank you, Twilight.” Smiled Pancrius.
Tarantula Saxophone laughed, “Hah! I have fooled you, for I was only being sarcastic.”
“Curse you, Twilight Sparkle. How dare you mock my ingenious scheme. It is completely original and extremely witty. No one has ever thought of it before and I would challenge you to prove otherwise,” dared Perrywinkle.
“I still do not like it and your plan reeks of a cheesy horror film plot,” Twin Towers pouted. She rolled her eyes as Pinball Wellington dove right in, scooping out entire lumps of pumping meat. She didn’t even leave herself enough time to properly identify each of them, as would be of proper scientific merit, and instead dropped them one by one into a crude baking pan. Pumpkin Plesiosaur especially had fun dragging out an entire length of intestine which ended with an unnerving snap.
“Ouch,” Tutorial Sprinkler frowned, “You know what, Pinkie Pie? You are a monster, and you are not a very nice person, and you are very mean, and you are not my friend anymore, and I do not like you at all.”
Pinocchio gasped, “How dare you say such awful things to me. I will not allow you to slander my character any further.” She reached for a pair of jumper cables, and attached one end to a battery generator and then approached the bloody unicorn with the other end.
A slippery grin ran across the psychopath’s face as she drew closer with the clamp. With a twisted twinkle in her eye, Porkchop clinched the clamp over what was left of a fractured splinter of the unicorn’s horn, “I am going to light you up like a Christmas tree!”
“But Pinkie Pie, we do not celebrate Christmas. We celebrate Hearth’s Warming Eve. Please do not confuse these individual holidays as this is offensive to my religion.”
“Oh dear, I do apologize. I did not mean to cause offense to you, Twilight,” said Piledriver Parenthesis.
“That is okay, Pinkie Pie. I know that you did not mean to offend me, and I also understand that everyone has their own respective holidays and that we should learn to respect one another’s cultures and backgrounds.”
“Yes, this is absolutely true. We can only coexist as a society by respecting and acknowledging each other’s faiths and history. Now please excuse me while I flip this switch,” she made her way over to the generator and eyed the switch she’d probably used thousands of times by now. Maybe even tens of thousands of times.
“Are you going to electrocute me, Pinkie?”
“Yes, yes I am, Twilight.”
“I cannot say that I would enjoy that very much. You’ve simply given me no choice, Pinkie Pie. You have forced me to recommend a book involving proper manners and consideration for others. Maybe after you have given it a read, you will think twice about treating others in such a poor manner.”
“Oh, and what is the title of the book?” asked Pennywise.
“It is called ‘The Frog Who Made Friends’ by Janet E. Szczesniak, and it is my hope that it will reform your behavior to be more thoughtful of those around you.”
“That sounds like a children’s book, Twilight.” Piccolo chuckled, “I do not think that I will bother borrowing that book from my local library.”
“You should not judge a book by its cover, Pinkie. It is a very nice book and it demonstrates how to properly make friends and be kind to others. Won’t you please give it a try?”
Pakistan sighed, “Fine, I suppose will give it a read in my spare time, but before that, I must give you your surprise!”
Tambourine Suzuki gasped in delight, “Oh, whatever could it be?”
“Here, let me show you, Twilight Sparkle!” Parcel Post flipped the switch and immediately filled the unicorn’s helpless corpse with ten thousand volts of electricity.
Tabasco Sauce couldn’t hold back her frantic blood curdling screams, “Oh no! This is not pleasant at all and I am in great pain and how dare you do this to me, Pinkie Pie. I am not your friend anymore.”
She peed all over herself, because that’s apparently what happens when you get electrocuted in a fanfiction, and then Twilight died.
The End
