Pinkie Floyd: The Wall

Soon enough Pinkie Floyd was school-aged, and was more than happy to toddle off to school and try to earn her cutie mark. That very first day she and her mother walked to school together, pride in Sue’s heart and thrill in Pinkie’s.

“Now you be a good girl, Pinkie,” Sue smiled, but her warning was harsh and there was no going around it. Pinkie shivered.

“Yes, Mommy.” The little pink filly shook her head, wild curls bouncing around and shining in the sunlight. Sue shook her head too, but seemed worried instead of excited.

“Really, now, you mustn’t misbehave.”

“I promise, Mommy,” Pinkie said, her blue eyes meeting her mother’s. Without another word, she bounded faster and faster ahead, catching first sight of the schoolhouse. Sue stood and watched her little daughter go, worrying about how her young child would be treated. Sue couldn’t protect her when she was off at school.

Pinkie entered the schoolhouse quickly, grinning happily. She looked around her quickly and noticed two other little fillies were already in the schoolhouse talking amongst themselves.

The first was a pale orange color and had a long blonde ponytail in her mane. Her freckled face adorned two emerald eyes and she was smiling widely. The filly standing next to her had a spotless white coat and a shiny, flowing purple mane. Her eyes were an intense deep navy color and she had the longest eyelashes Pinkie had ever seen. She quickly bounded over to the foals, excited to meet them.

“Hi there! Hi! I’m Pinkie Floyd!” she announced, smiling widely at the two fillies. They smiled back.

“Well howdy-do there, Miss Floyd, pleasure t’ make yer acquaint’nce! Ah’m Applejack Apple, an’ this is Rarity Belle,” said the little orange filly, tugging at her ponytail.

“Nice to meet you,” said the filly next to her, putting out a hoof to shake. Pinkie shook it quickly and looked around the classroom further. It had blank walls, white with green trim. The floor was sturdy wood and at the front of the classroom a blackboard with the name Mr. McAvoy written in contrasting white chalk. The classroom’s lighting was as gray as the morning outside, but a little brighter.

“Hey, let’s sit together!” Pinkie said, excitedly ushering her two new friends to their seats. More fillies and colts soon entered, finding their seats. One colt entered with a smile almost as big as Pinkie’s and he began searching around excitedly. His golden coat and autumn-orange colored mane shone and his big green eyes were racing around the classroom.

“Hey Braeburn!” shouted Applejack, ushering the colt over to their table. Braeburn quickly bounded over and took the seat directly next to Pinkie.

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Floyd!”

“Ah’m Braeburn Apple! Say, Ah ain’t never seen you before!” the two young foals shook hands excitedly.

“Mommy hardly ever lets me out to play with the other fillies and colts, she’s very protective.”

“Hey, mine too! Ain’t that right, cousin Applejack?” Braeburn winked at Applejack and she laughed.

“It’s true, Auntie Brown Betty is a real stickler ‘bout bedtimes!”

“Foals!” boomed a voice from the front of the room, “Take your seats and be quiet.” The foals all sat silently and looked up at the schoolmaster. He was near-bald, but had bits of white blooming from his head still. In one hoof he held a wooden ruler, and he was slapping it abruptly in the other hoof. He wore a nice suit, thick-framed glasses, and an emerald green tie. His wrinkly old face looked harsh, and Pinkie suddenly felt afraid.

“I want all you foals to listen up, and listen good. You are here to learn, not play. I expect you all to work, and work hard. That’s how things work in the real world.”

Pinkie Pie wasn't one to judge on appearances, but this schoolmaster definitely didn't look as nurturing as she would have liked. In fact, he looked downright scary. She also wasn't sure why he kept slapping that ruler around. Before she could fully contemplate it, he cracked it against the blackboard right next to his name. The startled pink filly jumped a bit and squeaked as well.

"My name is Mr. McAvoy. I'll cooperate with you so long as you cooperate with me. Got it?"

Pinkie Pie frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

"And if you don't cooperate with me..." Mr. McAvoy cracked his ruler down on the table right in front of Pinkie Pie and met her eyes. His were a greenish gray, but they still intimidated her all the same. She wasn't sure if she was going to enjoy school anymore.

As the lesson began, Braeburn took out his drawing notebook and sketched as the teacher spoke. He was clearly dedicated to his work, and smirked as he sketched line after line. He drew a cartoonish version of Mr. McAvoy that was frighteningly accurate and entitled "Mr. Rulermane". He passed it discreetly to Pinkie, who giggled. Unfortunately, the class was dead silent other than a current lecture at the front of the room.

Pinkie didn't need to look up to guess what was happening next. Mr. McAvoy was already at the foot of their desks, his tall and intimidating frame casting a shadow across Pinkie and Braeburn's faces. Their smiles immediately vanished. Pinkie hadn't been thinking fast, and was still holding the drawing notebook in her hooves. Mr. McAvoy snatched it and held it up high for the class to see.

"Mr. Rulermane!" he declared, in a voice so scary that not a single foal could dare laugh at the ridiculous title. The stallion turned back to Braeburn and Pinkie, a glare lighting his face. He turned to Braeburn first.

"Did you draw that, laddy?"

"Y-Yes sir, but I-" Braeburn couldn't even get his words out. A loud, frightening slap filled the air and Braeburn shrieked in pain. When Pinkie gazed over at him fearfully she saw a bright red, rectangular mark on his face already beginning to swell. Tears welled at the foal's eyes and at Pinkie's as well. She feared for Braeburn's face, and for her own hide as well. Pinkie quickly focused her attention on Mr. McAvoy and he looked at her with brimming anger. Her heart practically stopped.

"And you! You think that's funny?"

"No sir!" Pinkie squeaked, putting a hoof up to her cheek to protect it instinctively. Mr. McAvoy smirked and turned back to his lecture, keeping an extra eye on Pinkie for the rest of the lesson. When his back was turned she shot Braeburn looks of sympathy and worry, noting that his face looked just terrible. She could still see silent tears in the corners of his eyes, and it made her feel sick.

Despite her generally talkative nature, Pinkie DID learn something that day. She learned that she wasn't to bother the teacher and she wasn't to make a sound during any of his lectures.

"Recess time! Everybody outside!" Mr. McAvoy yelled, ushering the foals outside, "Single file line everybody! Those who break conduct will be punished!"

No foal wanted to be punished, and quickly exited in a single-file line. Even though Pinkie was a bit scared, she was eager to check on Braeburn and get to know her new friends better. Once they had all exited the schoolhouse, she quickly put a foreleg around Braeburn and hugged him tightly. Applejack and Rarity came forward as well, eager to check on his face.

"Oh Braeburn! The way he hit you just killed me!" Pinkie cried, hugging her new friend. Even though she hadn't known him for long at all, she had never been like anything like that at all.

"Is yer face okay, cuz?" Applejack asked, quickly peeling a hoof from his face. A swollen, red welt decorated the side of his cheek and it looked very painful. "Jiminy!" she shrieked, "How in the heck are we s'posed to explain that t' Auntie Brown Betty?"

"Don't," Rarity simply answered, looking at the ground, "she probably went through the very same thing."

"How do you know that, Rarity?" Pinkie asked, genuinely curious.

"My Daddy has scars," Rarity whispered, sadly. Pinkie's heart hurt. She had known about soldiers getting hurt in the war, but children? That she hadn't heard of.

For the rest of that term Pinkie stayed very silent and payed attention to every word Mr. McAvoy said. She also got much closer to the Apples and Rarity. On the weekends the four foals would meet up at Sweet Apple Acres and go for adventures of any sort.

Rarity always brought Pinkie books to read and always made her up all pretty. Pinkie wasn't too terribly girly, but she couldn't argue when Rarity taught her how to apply eyeliner and fix her hair. Pinkie learned with Rarity's help to control her frizzy locks and accentuate her eyes. That began to become important to her the older and older she grew. Rarity also introduced Pinkie to a new passion...poetry.

Pinkie spent all the free time she had writing rhymes and carefully crafting stanzas. She loved it, she loved it more than anything in the whole world. Her mother had also begun to notice her extreme fascination with poetry, and bought her books of all sorts to keep her raging creativity at bay.

"Great news!" Applejack announced with a grin on her face one Saturday morning. "Mah big brother Big Macintosh says that he heard screamin' over at Mr. McAvoy's house last night!"

"Foal screaming?" Rarity asked in alarm.

"No! Mare screamin'!"

"Mr. McAvoy hurts his wife too!?" Pinkie shrieked, frightened.

"No no, ya got it all wrong! She was screamin' at him !"

All Pinkie could do was smirk.

Pinkie began to write everything down in a notebook, her very own notebook. It had a rugged little leather cover and a lot of pages were torn out of it. At one point in time it had been her mother's, but Pinkie needed it more now.

Her first poem was written.

When we grew up and went to school

There were certain teachers who would

Hurt the foals in any way they could

By pouring their derision upon anything we did

And exposing every weakness

However carefully hidden by the kids

But in the town, it was well known

When they got home at night, their fat and

Psychopathic wives would thrash them

Within inches of their lives.

One Saturday morning the four fillies met up at Sweet Apple Acres bright and early in the morning. Rarity, Applejack, Braeburn and Pinkie were all off on an adventure.

"So what are we doin' today anyhow?" Applejack asked as Pinkie lead the fillies through an apple orchard she didn't even know. Pinkie had a wicked idea, and she couldn't wait to test it out. Sweet Apple Acres was right next to a railroad track, and Pinkie's love of reading had let her stumble upon some interesting information.

"You'll see!" Pinkie grinned, listening to the bullets chink around in her pocket.