The Baffling Case of Pinkamena Pie

by Don Quixote

Rating: everyone
Tags: Derpy Hooves, Slice of Life, Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Spike
Length: 5124

Equestria's greatest scholar arrives in Ponyville to investigate a unique phenomenon: the mysterious, reality-bending being known as Pinkie Pie.

Professor Dusty Tomes, Equestria's greatest scholar and Twilight Sparkle's childhood hero, arrives in Ponyville on a mission from Princess Celestia. He must study a unique phenomenon: a being whose inexplicable powers may have the potential to benefit Equestria—or even to destroy it. The object of his research? The cheerful, exuberant pony known as Pinkie Pie.

Published 2013-02-12 15:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-12 15:20:01 UTC

The Baffling Case of Pinkamena Pie

Twilight Sparkle’s study sessions were perhaps the most devastating disasters Equestria had ever known.

When Twilight hit the books, chaos ensued. The library floor, usually clean and bare, became a landscape of clutter: mountains of books, hills of parchments, forests of quills and occasionally a lake of ink where Twilight knocked over an inkwell.

Being a unicorn, Twilight used magic to summon whatever she needed. During her study sessions, which sometimes lasted for days, atlases and reference guides swooped to and fro like unwieldy birds. The ponies of Ponyville knew better than to enter the library when Twilight was studying. Visitors ran a very real risk of getting knocked unconscious by books rocketing across the room.

Fortunately for ponies everywhere, Twilight’s studying was confined to the library in Ponyville: a large hollow tree whose sturdy wooden walls kept the devastation in check. Spike, the young dragon who served as Twilight’s assistant, had long since resigned himself to cleaning up after her study sessions.

“It’s weird,” he once told his friend Pinkie Pie as he mopped up a pool of ink.

Pinkie, a pony with a fluffy pink mane and a permanent smile, tilted her head to one side. “What’s weird?” she asked.

“Well, Twilight’s usually the tidiest unicorn in all Equestria. I think she stores up her messiness and unleashes it all at once when she studies. Shoot, I need a new mop. This one’s a mess.”

Without hesitation, Pinkie held out a mop.

Spike took it, peering at her in puzzlement. “Thanks. How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You didn’t have a mop before. Where did you get that one?”

Pinkie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’re amazing,” said Spike, chuckling. “I don’t know how you do it, Pinkie.”

“Me neither.”

“It’s like a superpower! You can pull stuff out of thin air and pop up in unexpected places and defy gravity and predict the future with your Pinkie Sense. Can you do anything else?”

“I break the fourth wall sometimes.”

“You do what?”

“It’s called metafiction!” exclaimed Pinkie, hopping up and down.

Spike scratched his head. “Just don’t go breaking any walls in here, okay? It’s messy enough as it is. Hey, can you use your Pinkie Power to help me clean up?”

“It’s not really something I can control,” admitted Pinkie. “But I’m happy to help you, Spike. I’ll just grab another mop—” She produced one from behind her back. “—and we’ll get this done in no time!”

~

On a cool, clear morning in spring, Twilight Sparkle was finishing up one of her notorious study sessions. The library smelled vaguely of ink and old parchment, and a haze of dust was beginning to settle on the jumble of books and scrolls covering the floor.

The door banged open, rattling the windows, and Spike burst into the library like a cannonball. “Letter—just arrived—from the Princess—looks important—ran all the way,” he gasped, brandishing a roll of parchment.

Twilight put down her book. “All right,” she said, smiling. “Let’s hear it, Spike. Whenever you’re ready.”

Upon recovering his breath, Spike read aloud: “To Twilight Sparkle, my most faithful student: I am sending Dusty Tomes, my trusted subject, to Ponyville on a mission of great importance. Please assist him in any way you can. I know I can count on you, Twilight.”

Spike finished reading and glanced up to see Twilight standing frozen, eyes and mouth wide open.

“Twilight?” he said.

“Dusty Tomes,” she whispered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dusty Tomes!” she shrieked.

Spike rolled up the letter. “I don’t get it.”

Snapping out of her daze, Twilight dashed to the nearest cupboard and flung open its doors. An avalanche of cleaning supplies tumbled into the room.

“This is an emergency!” she yelled. “Spike, get the books back on the shelves! Put away the parchments and quills, stat! Code red, Spike! This is not a drill!”

Propelled by Twilight’s magic, a broom, a dustpan and two feather dusters zoomed around the library. Spike ducked as the dustpan flew over his head.

“Who is Dusty Tomes?” he asked.

The broom, dustpan and feather dusters fell to the floor with a clatter.

“Spike,” said Twilight, gazing at Spike in astonishment, “you’ve been my assistant for how many years?”

“The name’s familiar,” he said. “That’s right, he wrote a bunch of books. They’re kept on that shelf.” He pointed to an empty bookshelf and added, “Well, they’re usually kept on that shelf.”

Twilight sat down, suddenly calm. “Professor Tomes is my childhood hero, Spike.” She spoke wistfully. “I can’t believe I never told you about him. He’s Equestria’s greatest scholar, scientist, mathematician, philosopher, historian, linguist, literary critic—there’s nothing he doesn’t study. Let’s see if I can find any of his books.”

Using magic, Twilight sifted through a heap of books on the floor and tossed several in Spike’s direction. He picked them up and read the titles aloud. “The Mare in the Moon: A Mythopoeic Study. Daring Do and the Rise of Feminism in Popular Culture. A Philological Debate: Everyone or Everypony?”

“He’s brilliant,” sighed Twilight. “Princess Celestia told me she’s never known a smarter pony. I want to make a good impression.”

With that, Twilight resumed panicking.

“Listen to me talking when we’ve got so much to do!” she cried. “Put those books back on the shelf and get to work, Spike. We haven’t got much time.”

“That,” muttered Spike, “is the Twilight I know and love.”

It took hours, but at last the library was clean. Dusted and polished, the bookshelves gleamed in the sunshine pouring in through the windows. Every book was neatly shelved. The floor, visible for the first time in days, was swept and mopped.

“I had almost forgotten there was a floor under all those books,” said Spike, leaning on a broom for support. “That was exhausting.”

“At least everything’s clean,” replied Twilight.

Spike smiled weakly. “Almost everything.”

“What?” gasped Twilight. “Did we miss something?”

“We missed you, Twilight. I think you need a bath.”

Twilight trotted to the nearest mirror and examined her reflection. “Well, my mane is a little messy,” she admitted.

“You’re also a bit… inky,” said Spike.

At that moment, with a bang and a flash, Professor Tomes arrived.

On paper, Dusty Tomes was notable for the long string of letters that followed his name: PhD, DA, DML and so on for nearly a quarter of a page. Each abbreviation represented an academic degree, and he had earned every one.

Only one university had ever dared to offer him an honorary degree. He had flatly refused to accept it. “An honorary degree?” he had exclaimed. “Shameful nonsense! You may as well glue a carrot to an earth pony’s forehead and call him a unicorn.”

Despite his academic qualifications, the Professor was not an impressive sight. He was a brown unicorn with a bushy gray mane and an enormous pair of spectacles. Their round lenses magnified his eyes to a tremendous size, giving him the look of a frightened owl.

His sudden arrival in the library caused Twilight Sparkle to blink rapidly and stammer incoherently.

“It’s all right,” said Spike, approaching the Professor and holding out a friendly hand. “She’s just having a geek attack. It happens whenever she gets excited about something nerdy. That’s Twilight Sparkle. I’m Spike, her assistant. You must be Dusty Tomes. Welcome to Ponyville!”

The Professor did not shake Spike’s hand. “You may address me as Professor or Sir. I am happy,” he added gloomily, “to make your acquaintance, Mr. Spike.”

Spike blushed and withdrew his hand. “Just Spike is fine.”

“Professor,” said Twilight, recovering from her excitement, “Welcome to our library. We’re ready to do whatever we can to help you.”

“A cup of tea, Ms. Sparkle,” said the Professor. “Earl Hay, two sugars, no milk. Where will I sleep? I have a briefcase to unpack.”

“We made you a bed in the basement,” said Twilight. “Spike, would you please get the Professor’s tea?”

Spike dashed to the kitchen, leaving Twilight alone with her guest.

“It’s a huge honor to meet you,” she said. “I’ve read all your books. The Marriage of Science and Magic is my favorite. I’d be totally thrilled if you’d sign my copy. Would you?”

The Professor rolled his eyes. This gesture, magnified by his spectacles, made Twilight immediately regret asking.

“I suppose there is no harm in it,” he said. “Kindly give me your book, a quill and an inkwell. Quickly, Ms. Sparkle. My time is precious.”

Twilight snatched the book off the shelf and gave it to the Professor with a quill and a bottle of ink. After scribbling his name on the front page, he slammed the book shut and put it back on the shelf.

Following a moment of painful silence, Twilight said, “That was an impressive teleportation spell, Professor. From where did you travel?”

“From my office in Canterlot,” replied the Professor.

“Amazing,” squeaked Twilight. “Apart from the Princess, I’ve never heard of a pony traveling so far by magic. Do you travel much?”

“This is my first trip outside Canterlot in eight years,” said the Professor. “Besides the commute from my home to the Royal Canterlot University, I seldom go anywhere. I live a life of mathematical precision, Ms. Sparkle, and nothing is more imprecise than travel. It is too unpredictable.”

“I see,” said Twilight, and turned red.

“By the way,” said the Professor, adjusting his spectacles, “you seem to be covered in irregular black marks. Is this the latest trend in fashion? I am no expert on the subject, but fashion can be a fascinating sociological study.”

“It’s ink,” mumbled Twilight.

The Professor took out a notepad and began scribbling. “Tattoos, I presume? Aesthetically speaking, I must question their significance. They do not conform to any reputable artistic tradition. In fact, they seem entirely haphazard.”

Spike returned with the Professor’s tea, sparing Twilight further embarrassment.

“Earl Hay,” he announced. “Two sugars and no milk. Just what you wanted, Professor.”

The Professor accepted the teacup and took a sip. “You steeped the tea too thoroughly,” he observed. “The resulting oversaturation of tannins gives the beverage a displeasing bitterness and astringency.”

“I’m sorry,” said Spike. “At least, I think I’m sorry. Should I be sorry?”

The Professor frowned. “Exceedingly so,” he said, setting down the teacup on the nearest shelf.

“Excuse me,” said Twilight nervously, and gulped as the Professor glanced at her through his enormous spectacles. “The Princess said you’re here on a mission of great importance. Would you mind telling us about it? I mean,” she added, gulping again, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

The Professor took off his spectacles and polished the lenses. Without them, he looked much less like an owl.
“Ms. Sparkle,” he began, “our august and venerable Princess has instructed me to trust you implicitly. I will tell you everything. Ponyville contains a unique phenomenon: a strange power capable of feats beyond even the most potent magic. This power could benefit Equestria or destroy it completely.”

“My gosh,” said Twilight softly. “I had no idea Ponyville contained such a thing. What is it, Professor? What have you come to study?”

Replacing his spectacles, the Professor looked sternly at Twilight. “I have come to study a pony by the name of Pinkamena Diane Pie. Do you know her?

~

Twilight entered Sugarcube Corner, rang the bell and glanced around.

The bakery was one of her favorite places in Ponyville. It resembled a gingerbread house and smelled even better than it looked. Sugarcube Corner was forever filled with the fragrances of fruit, spice and warm chocolate.

Inside, Sugarcube Corner was decorated in bright colors and furnished with shelves of a rich chocolate brown. These shelves were crammed with baked goods: tiny cupcakes, towering wedding cakes and cakes of every size in between; pies in dozens of flavors; pastries of all kinds; jars of jellies, puddings and preserves; and—filling an entire shop window—a gingerbread reproduction of downtown Ponyville, complete with clouds of cotton candy and a tiny chocolate fountain.

Twilight was admiring a row of doughnuts when Pinkie Pie burst into the room with a laugh.

“Twilight! You’re looking particularly inky today, which is perfect because inky rhymes with Pinkie. Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! Our cakes are the best in Equest!”

“I think you mean the best in Equestria,” said Twilight.

Pinkie hung her head. “I know, but Equestria doesn’t rhyme. Hey! Do you think the Princess would consider changing the name of her kingdom? We need to shave off three letters to make it rhyme with best. Is that too much to ask?”

“How are you doing, Pinkie?” asked Twilight.

“I’m just fine! Derpy Hooves and I are baking muffins today. She likes muffins. She’s been sad since the incident at town hall—it burned down last week, you know—so I thought muffins might cheer her up.”

Twilight frowned. “Yes, Pinkie, I know about town hall. I was there. Anyway, I think it’s very sweet of you to make muffins with Ditzy.”

“Derpy.”

“Whatever. Will you be done soon? There’s a pony you need to meet.”

“A new pony in Ponyville?” squealed Pinkie. “That’s so exciting! This calls for a party!”

“Wait!” yelled Twilight, adding in a softer voice, “Pinkie, there’s something very important I need to tell you.”

Professor Tomes chose this moment to make his entrance.

“Wow,” said Pinkie, leaning over the bakery counter to get a closer look. “That’s the largest owl I’ve ever seen.”

The Professor winced. “You must be Ms. Pie.”

“It talks!” exclaimed Pinkie. “That’s amazing!”

“Pinkie, this is Professor Tomes,” said Twilight. “He’s a unicorn from Canterlot, and he’s here to ask you some questions.”

Pinkie gasped. “This is the new pony? That’s it. Time to party!”

With that, she fired a cannon.

The Professor shut his eyes against the blinding flash. When he opened them, he was astonished to see the bakery adorned with bright streamers and balloons. Confetti fell in a gentle shower. The impossible cannon had disappeared.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, brushing confetti from his spectacles. “Ms. Pie, did the blast of your cannon decorate the interior of this bakery?”

“It sure did,” said Pinkie.

“How?”

“It’s a party cannon, silly!”

Undaunted by this enigmatic reply, the Professor persevered: “Where did it come from? Where is it now?”

“I don’t know,” said Pinkie, shrugging. “That’s not important. Let’s party! I’ll go get Derpy. Muffins are exactly what this party needs!”

Pinkie disappeared, leaving the Professor to inspect the party decorations. “Colored tissue paper,” he muttered, taking notes. “Mostly pink and blue; ditto balloons. Streamers affixed to the wall with… taffy. Unorthodox.”

“Professor?” asked Twilight, nudging him.

“Make yourself useful, Ms. Sparkle,” said the Professor gruffly. “Kindly search for the cannon. I wish to examine its inner mechanisms.”

“It’s gone,” said Twilight.

The Professor stamped, raising a cloud of confetti. “Does that prevent you from searching, Ms. Sparkle?”

The investigation was interrupted by Pinkie Pie and Derpy Hooves, each carrying a tray of muffins.

Derpy was a frequent visitor to Sugarcube Corner. Her timid nature and unusual appearance—for reasons unknown, her eyes were perpetually crossed—made her shy around other ponies, but Pinkie always made her feel welcome.

“Hi,” said Derpy softly. “Muffin, Twilight? How about you, sir?”

The Professor took a muffin and ate it meditatively. “I need more data,” he said. “Thank you for this fine muffin, Ms. Muffin-maker. May I trouble you further by asking some questions?”

Derpy beamed. “Sure, but my name’s not Muffin-maker. It’s Ditzy or Derpy—whichever you like. I’m glad you’re enjoying your muffin. What do you want to know?”

The Professor retreated with Derpy Hooves to a corner booth, where they began a whispered conversation.

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” said Twilight.

“Who cares?” replied Pinkie. “Have you tried these muffins?”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Pinkie, the Professor is here to study you.”

“Study me?” inquired Pinkie through a mouthful of muffin. “Like you did that one time? All right! This will be fun!”

The Professor finished questioning Derpy, who announced she was going home.

“I had a really good time,” she said. “Enjoy the muffins!”

As Derpy departed, the Professor removed his spectacles and began to clean them. “That pegasus is a fascinating study,” he said gravely. “Her eyes appear to move independently and to focus separately—a trait common in certain reptiles, but foreign to ponies.”

“Did you learn anything?” inquired Twilight.

The Professor held up his spectacles to the light and peered through the lenses. Apparently unsatisfied, he resumed polishing them. “It was difficult to keep Ms. Derpy focused. Digressions were frequent; she seems particularly enamored of a pony to whom she referred as the Doctor—a most curious appellation.”

Twilight sighed. “Excuse me, Professor, but did you learn anything about Pinkie?”

“Indeed,” said the Professor, and his expression softened. “If Ms. Derpy’s testimony is to be believed, Ms. Pie is a pony whose cheerfulness, affability and sense of humor are truly extraordinary.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” said Pinkie.

The Professor shook his head. “It is also of trifling significance. More importantly, Ms. Derpy testified that Ms. Pie can perform feats of which no pony should be capable, from circumventing the laws of physics to prognosticating.”

Pinkie gasped, horrified. “That’s not true! I can’t prognosticate. I’ve never prognosticated a day in my life. Not one day! By the way, what does prognosticate mean?”

“Predicting the future,” explained Twilight. “Your Pinkie Sense.”

The Professor put on his spectacles. “Ms. Sparkle, I need to borrow your laboratory. I must observe Ms. Pie in a controlled environment.”

“Wait a moment, Professor.” Twilight paused, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think this is going to work. I tried studying Pinkie. Specifically, I tried to figure out her Pinkie Sense—I mean, her powers of prognostication. Nothing worked: not even the lab. I’m not sure Pinkie’s, um, special talents are something science can explain.”

“Nonsense!” cried the Professor. “No phenomenon is beyond the ken of science—not magic, not friendship and certainly not Ms. Pie.”

~

Twilight’s laboratory was located beneath the tree that contained the library. The tree’s roots supported the walls and ceiling of a cool, dim room, leaving space for beakers and scientific equipment. As the tree grew, its roots advanced stealthily into the laboratory: winding round pipes and cables in an odd blending of nature and machinery.

Shelves were carved into the walls, holding books for which the library had no room. A cupboard contained bottles of chemicals and packets of powders. Lamps illuminated the subterranean gloom, and a winding staircase connected the laboratory with the library above.

A bed had been made for the Professor in a corner of the laboratory. Beside it stood a stack of books and an array of scientific instruments. How he had packed so many items into a small briefcase—whether by advanced magic or sheer force of effort—Twilight could not guess.

Either way, she was impressed.

“If Pinkie’s abilities can be figured out, you’ll be the one to do it,” she declared as they began their research. “I’m… well… I’m just not sure her abilities can be figured out.”

Three days later, the Professor was ready to agree.

“You may take a moment to relax, Ms. Pie,” he said.

“Finally!” exclaimed Pinkie, collapsing on the floor. “I need a rest! I’ve been through every kind of test, and I’m really kinda stressed. Hey! I’m rhyming again! Aren’t rhymes the best?”

“Three days of research,” said Twilight, taking a seat next to Pinkie. “Professor, I don’t want to disappoint the Princess, but hadn’t we better think about calling it quits? We’re not making any progress. I’ve learned it’s sometimes best simply to accept the things I can’t understand.”

The Professor removed his spectacles and polished the lenses. This was, Twilight had realized, his way of coping with stress.

After three days of studying Pinkie Pie, his spectacles shone like diamonds.

“I want to help,” gasped Pinkie. “I just can’t take it anymore! I hate to think of all the fun I’ve missed. Being studied is no fun at all.”

Putting on his spectacles, the Professor sat down upon his bed and closed his eyes. He seemed very tired.

Pinkie sat up, concerned. “You don’t look too good, Professor. Are you okay?”

“In three days,” he replied, “you have defied gravity twenty-seven times, Ms. Pie. You have made thirteen appearances in places where it was not physically possible for you to appear. You have accurately predicted thirty-one future events. You have burst spontaneously into song twice, produced fourteen items out of thin air and made seven pronouncements supporting the metaphysical doctrine of subjective idealism.”

“I don’t think the people reading this understood that last one,” said Pinkie.

“To put it in literary terms, you have broken the fourth wall seven times. Your latest statement brings our total to eight. Ms. Pie, I have never met a pony like you. Your case baffles me. As a philosopher, scholar and scientist, I simply do not know what to make of you.”

“Professor,” said Twilight gently. “Maybe we should let this go. I’m sure Princess Celestia will understand. So what if Pinkie’s mysterious Pinkie Power goes unsolved?”

The Professor hung his head. “My purpose in coming to Ponyville was not merely scientific curiosity, Ms. Sparkle. This is a matter of utmost importance: perhaps of life or death.”

Pinkie froze, and then said in a voice almost too soft to hear, “Life or… death?”

“Consider how Ms. Pie’s abilities could benefit Equestria,” said the Professor. “Imagine if other ponies could learn to use them! Food, medicine and other necessities could be made ex nihilo—out of nothing. Travel, which is unpredictable and dangerous, could become obsolete: replaced by Ms. Pie’s ability to appear anywhere.”

“Equestria is doing just fine,” protested Twilight. “Yes, it would be great for Equestria to be run on Pinkie Power, but things are wonderful like they are.”

“Consider,” said the Professor in a low voice, “how Ms. Pie’s abilities could harm Equestria. Entire armies could appear anywhere, defying our best defenses. Weapons far deadlier than Ms. Pie’s party cannon could be produced en masse. In the wrong hooves, Pinkie Power could destroy Equestria.”

“My gosh,” whispered Twilight.

The Professor smiled sadly. “That, Ms. Sparkle, is why we must keep studying Ms. Pie. She is too dangerous to be left a mystery.”

“I’m… dangerous?” murmured Pinkie. Her expression was blank.

“Pinkie,” said Twilight. “Pinkie! Are you okay?”

Pinkie’s fluffy mane drooped suddenly with the sad finality of a wilting rose petal.

“Not a wilting rose petal,” she murmured. “That’s a bad comparison. More like a balloon deflating.”

“That’s your ninth breach of the fourth wall,” said the Professor, making a note.

Pinkie began to cry.

~

“I’ve never packed for exile,” said Pinkie, staring vacantly at the suitcase lying open on her bed. “I should ask Rarity. She knows all about packing for exile.”

Pinkie lived in the garret above Sugarcube Corner. It was a cozy room, painted in bright pinks and soft browns, and packed with flowers, balloons and colorful pictures.

The only drab thing to be seen was a framed photograph on the wall. Although it resembled a black-and-white photo, it was actually a color picture: four ponies in various shades of brown and gray standing beside a pile of rocks.

“I can’t go home,” said Pinkie, glancing at the photo. “I don’t want to hurt Ma Pie or Pa Pie or Inky or Blinky.” The ghost of a smile flitted over Pinkie’s face. “I may not see Inky or Blinky again, but at least our names will always rhyme.”

Abandoning her suitcase, Pinkie moseyed to the window and gazed out upon Ponyville. Far away, beyond green fields and wooded hills, the royal city of Canterlot gleamed in the sunset. High above, a few stars sparkled in the purple twilight.

“I wish the narrator wouldn’t use words like sparkle and twilight,” sighed Pinkie. “They remind me of my friends. Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Rarity—I have to leave them all. I’ll leave Gummy too. It’s not fair to drag my pet into exile with me. I’ll go alone. I’ll go someplace with no ponies.”

Pinkie shuddered. “Someplace with no ponies,” she repeated, and stifled a sob.

The bedroom door opened. It was Twilight.

“Pinkie!” she cried. “You’re here! Thank Celestia. I was afraid I’d be too late.”

“I’m just on my way out,” said Pinkie. Her lip quivered. “I thought about throwing myself a goodbye party, but I didn’t want to bring out the party cannon since… well… it didn’t seem like a good idea.”

“The Professor is wrong,” declared Twilight.

“He’s not,” sniffed Pinkie. “I don’t want to destroy Equestria. No more Equestria means no more muffins or cupcakes or cherrychangas or chimicherries. No more Equestria means no more friends. I can’t do that, Twilight. I won’t do that.”

“The Professor is wrong,” repeated Twilight. “There’s no evidence to support his theory that Pinkie Power can be harnessed by other ponies. Based on our research, I think your special talents are uniquely yours!”

Rubbing tears out of her eyes, Pinkie said nothing.

“You’re going to stay,” said Twilight. “I’ll have Spike write to Princess Celestia. She’ll understand. We’ll work this out together. I promise.”

Pinkie sniffled. “Pinkie Promise?”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye—ouch!”

Twilight had very poor hoof-eye coordination. In performing the motions that always accompanied a Pinkie Promise, she had stuck a hoof (which was quite a bit more painful than a cupcake) in her eye.

Pinkie smiled.

The bedroom door was kicked open. Applejack charged into the room, cowboy hat askew, breathing heavily.

“What’s all this about you leavin’ town, Pinkie?” she exclaimed. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere without your friends, sugarcube. I’m an honest mare, and I’m tellin’ the truth when I say your friends ain’t gonna let you down.”

“It wouldn’t be very kind of us to let you go alone,” said a soft voice from behind Applejack. Fluttershy crept into the room. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Am I interrupting?”

The window burst open, rebounded on its hinges and nearly hit Rainbow Dash in the face.

“Sorry about that,” she said, climbing in through the window and tumbling onto the floor. “Hey Pinks, I hear you’re thinking of leaving Ponyville without us. We’re not gonna let that happen. I pride myself on my loyalty, y’know. I can’t let any friend of mine take off alone!”

“Dear me,” said Rarity, squeezing into the room. “I didn’t expect such a crowd! Pinkie, darling, you mustn’t go—you really mustn’t. A friend must always be generous, and I’m willing to give you whatever you need to make it through this dreadful tribulation.”

Pinkie stared dumbfounded.

Then, with the sudden, glorious exuberance of a thunderclap, her mane fluffed up.

“Now that is a good comparison!” she exclaimed, and pulled her friends into a hug.

“How in Celestia’s name is she able to hug us all at once?” whispered Rarity.

“Just roll with it,” hissed Rainbow Dash.

Pinkie released them all and took a deep breath. “I’m so—wait,” she said. “Wait! I smell muffins.”

“It’s me,” said a familiar voice. Spike emerged from under the bed. “I sneaked in during the hug. Didn’t want to ruin the moment, you know.”

Reaching beneath the bed, he pulled out a tray of muffins.

“Derpy Hooves couldn’t make it,” he said. “I think she has a doctor’s appointment—she said something about a doctor, anyway—but she sent some muffins for you, Pinkie. Oh, she also sent a message: ‘Stay.’ I think I agree with her.”

“So do I,” said someone gruffly.

Everyone turned to see Professor Tomes standing the doorway, glancing sheepishly at each of them in turn.

“I have decided to return to Canterlot,” he said. “The Princess has accepted my decision. After much introspection, I have come round to Ms. Sparkle’s point of view. I believe this is for the best.”

Pinkie gasped. “But I’m dangerous. Pinkie Power could ruin Equestria!”

“A chance Equestria shall have to take,” said the Professor. “I think your special talents have great potential both for good and for ill, but the kingdom is already in good hooves. I have confidence in Princess Celestia. For better or for worse, Pinkie Power shall remain in Ponyville.”

The Professor hesitated.

“One more thing,” he said, looking Twilight not quite in the eye. “Your assistance has been much appreciated, Ms. Sparkle, and your concern for Ms. Pie is truly admirable. To be frank, I may have exaggerated the potential of Ms. Pie’s abilities. I must confess to getting carried away in my speculations. Through the darkest of them, your devotion to your friend never faltered. I commend you.”

He coughed and added, “As a token of thanks, I took the liberty of autographing your editions of all my books. I hope you do not think me forward for doing so.”

“Go on, Twi,” whispered Applejack. “Thank him.”

Twilight stood with her mouth open, blinking.

“She’s having another geek attack,” explained Spike. “Just give her a minute to get over it.”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” blurted Twilight.

“With that, I take my leave,” said the Professor, and vanished with a flash and a bang.

There was an awkward silence.

“Gosh, it’s pretty crowded in here,” declared Twilight at last. “Maybe we should go downstairs to celebrate. I know a pony who throws awesome parties.”

Pinkie laughed. “Great, but first I need to send a letter. Spike!”

“Ready!” said Spike, holding up a parchment and quill.

The others stared at him in surprise.

“What?” he said. “I came prepared.”

“Dear Princess Celestia,” said Pinkie, and Spike began writing. “There are times when things go wrong—not just wrong, but wrong in a really-big-super-huge-totally-ginormous way that seems too awful to fix. When that happens, don’t give up. A friend loves at all times, especially the bad ones, and you don’t have to tough it out alone. Your faithful servant, Pinkamena Diane Pie.”

Spike finished the letter and rolled up the parchment. “I’ll send it later,” he said. “Right now, I hear some muffins calling my name.”

He went downstairs, cradling the tray of muffins. The others followed one by one until only Pinkie and Twilight were left.

“Are you coming, Pinkie?” asked Twilight. “We can’t have a party without the guest of honor.”

Pinkie beamed. “I know, but there’s something I’ve got to say first: Thanks for reading! Now let’s go. We’ve got a party to throw!”

Pinkie ran out, leaving Twilight speechless.

The boom of the party cannon shook Twilight out of her reverie. “I’ll never understand Pinkie,” she said, grinning. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”