My Name is Pinkie

by Pinkie Primus

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Pinkie Pie
Length: 1082

Inspired by and based upon the song 'My Name is Mud' by Primus, link in the comments.

Inspired by and based upon the song 'My Name is Mud' by Primus, link in the comments.

Published 2012-11-03 10:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-03 10:50:01 UTC

My Name is Pinkie

Everything in Pinkie's world descended an octave. Mane flat to her skull, she let out a sadistic laugh, eyes widening at her prize. Out in the centre of the Everfree Forest she set aside her shovel and began to talk to either herself or the corpse before her, it could not be said which one. She talked quietly at first.

"My name is Pinkie."

Near silence reigned for a few seconds, the only sound was her percussive heart beating unsteadily against her sweat coated chest.

"My name is Pinkie," slightly louder this time. "Not to be confused with Twi or Dash or 'Shy or AJ my name is Pinkie."

A look of uncertainty crossed her steely eyes, a slight frown tugging at her lips as she looked upon the body beneath her. "It's always been."

Anger took over her emotions, glaring at the pony before her, realising just who it was. There was no room for sorrow, no space for mercy for this pony.

"'Cause I'm the pinkest foal of a bitch you could ever think, I live in pink, yes fuchsia pink from head to hoof it's all the same except my patent horseshoes."

Growing more enraged at every syllable spewed from her mouth the pink mare took a step forward to the dead figure, snarling and hissing through gritted teeth. She stopped short of the pony, one hoof extended, so close to touching the creature.

"I make them shine..."

Looking down at her extended foreleg she saw the shining metal at the end of it staring back at her from underneath layers of dirt, mud and sweat.

"... Most of the time." She uttered, a trace of regret threatening to establish itself in her voice, before snapping her neck upwards and regaining complete contempt for what was before her.

"'Cept every day my hooves were trodden on by this... friend of mine." She spat at the word 'friend', disgusted.

"Four foot two and pink as hell, I gotta get her in the ground before it starts to smell."

She picked up her shovel once more, digging into the stale dirt in front of her, breaking the crusted ground. "My name is Pinkie."

With unrivalled energy, the psychotic mare hacked at the dry ground, knocking chunk after chunk of cold, hard soil aside with every movement of her forelegs. Her first tear came just before the rainstorm, soaking the ground before her as dirt turned to mud. Working with fervour the mud was slung aside effortlessly under the unrelenting downpour. The precipitation mixed with her sweat, running down her back and plastering her mane across her neck.

Once the hole had been dug, she threw her shovel against a tree. Her breathing slowed back to its regular pace, her tears stopped and silence save for her heartbeat and the slowing torrent of rainwater reigned once more as she calmed herself.

"My name is Pinkie." She shut her eyes.

"But call me Pinkamina Diane Pie, that's long for Pinkie, so I've been told..."

Like a heavy pendulum her mood swung back, returning her to her full, unbridled rage in an instant.

"...Told by this here foal of a bitch that lies before me, bloated, pink and cold." She brought her face dangerously close to the unmoving body, never quite touching it.

"I've got my pride, I drink my cider." she retreated from the corpse, seemingly shocked at the sudden close up to the dead pony.

"I'd drink ol' AJ's finest, 'cept I haven't earned a bit in several months," she cried, collapsing to her haunches, "Or were it years?" She asked the deceased, waiting for an answer that would never come. It took only seconds of the cadaver's silence to anger her once more.

"The breath from that fat earth pony could bring any mare to tears, we had our words. A common spat." She reasoned to herself, calming slightly. Her eyes were shut and there was a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

The smile turned to a sinister grin as she stood on all four hooves once more, rubbing a deep purple bruise under her chin, "So I kissed her upside the cranium with an aluminium baseball bat, my name is Pinkie!" She shouted into the forest, striking the corpse with the shovel, sending it to the shallow grave before her.

The rain's steady drizzle increased as shovelful after shovelful of mud went soaring into the hole, gradually covering the dead pink pony inch by inch.

"My name is Pinkie!" She howled to the downpour, hurling the wet dirt on top of the deceased mare, crying desperately underneath her sodden, straightened hair.

"P-P-P-P-P-Pinkie!" The distraught mare stammered through her pain.

"My name is Pinkie!" She screamed, the high pitched sound ravaging her throat, every last second of breath in her lungs expended as the final shovelful of mud came squelching down into the grave, covering every shade of pink from sight.

For a few seconds, Pinkie only felt panic. She panted hard to regain her breath before regaining some composure and slowly breathing out...

And back in...

Out again...

In once more...

Losing all inhibition she seized the shovel once more and viciously beat the mud pile before her with one great swing...

And another...

Yet another steady arc from the weapon...

A pink hoof stole the shovel from her, interrupting her violent rhythm before bringing it down inches from her face, plunging it deep into the soaking earth.

"Where you goin', city mare?" The pony snarled, locking identical pure blue eyes with Pinkie.

Pinkie turned tail and ran. She knew she was being chased but couldn't look back. Not caring how many mud puddles she had to gallop through, ignoring all the low hanging branches obstructing her path she carried on at full speed. Even at this pace she could feel the mare behind her, relentless.

The panic didn't stop as she emerged from the Everfree. Nopony saw her running through the streets at this early hour of the day but she was not running alone. Only after entering Sugarcube Corner did her fear begin to subside, replaced by acceptance.

In the dead of night, all was quiet in the bakery save for the irregular thumping of her own heart and that of the mare she had just tried to bury, standing in front of her, completely calm.

The two ponies looked upon each other and, with a sigh, became one again.