“Twilight, you have to help me!” Pinkie proclaimed as she ran through the front door of the library, avoiding a collision with Spike by a hair.
She was greeted only by a loud and annoyed shout of “Pinkie Pie!”
Pinkie stopped in her tracks to look at Twilight, what was staring back at her from her writing desk, the lavender alicorn not seeming to be happy to see her in the least.
“Oh, no,” Pinkie said. “Don’t tell me I broke your nose too!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Twilight said, annoyance clear in her voice.
Pinkie now spied what was likely to be the true cause of Twilight’s frustration. On Twilight’s desk was a piece of parchment half-filled with Twilight’s distinctive writing. The other half was marked with a long blue-black streak that stretched to the end of the sheet where Twilight’s quill stood at attention.
Pinkie smiled as best she could in this rare moment of embarrassment.
Twilight sighed as the parchment lifted up in front of her and began to crumple into a small ball. As she left the writing desk, the ball flew over her shoulder to where Spike was waiting with a trash bin. Twilight never noticed that the ball bounced off of his head instead of landing in the bin.
As Twilight approached, Pinkie saw her friend close her eyes and take a deep breath. When Twilight opened her eyes, her face had assumed a look of at least partial calm and understanding.
“Pinkie, didn’t I tell you that I would be busy working all day?” Twilight asked.
“I don’t know, did you?” Pinkie responded.
Twilight raised her eyebrows. “When we met in the street earlier today? Remember, I said I had a lot of work to do because I had just gotten that copy of Starswirl the Bearded’s lost spells?”
Pinkie brightened up. “Oh, it finally came? Congratulations!”
Blank stares, like the one currently on Twilight’s face, seemed to be the only type of reaction Pinkie was getting today.
“Pinkie, I already told you that this morning,” Twilight said. “Just what went on at that party last night?”
“I have no idea,” Pinkie said cheerfully. “After about midnight, it all becomes something of a blur.”
“Must have been something crazy even by your standards,” Twilight answered as she moved back to her writing desk. “You’ve been acting even weirder than usual today. But if you don’t mind, I really do need to get back to work–”
“Whatcha working on?” Pinkie asked before Twilight could even finish the sentence.
Twilight straightened out a new piece of parchment, dipped her quill in ink, and began writing again. “I’m trying to put together a new comprehensive edition of all Starswirl the Bearded’s spells and writings, with commentary on each, of course.”
Pinkie came up and looked over her shoulder. “But I thought that Professor Devil Spit just came out with a new comprehensive edition.”
“He did,” Twilight answered, her tone becoming sharper. “And that’s exactly why I’m working on mine. Someone’s got to save Starswirl’s memory from that piece of unscholarly, sensationalistic tripe. It doesn’t even deserve to be called a “comprehensive edition”! I mean, I don’t know about you, but I quite prefer to take my spellbooks without any completely baseless and unproven assertions that Starswirl’s love-spells – of which he only wrote five, may I remind you – were inspired by an illicit love-affair with Clover the Clever, thank you very much!”
Twilight paused. Both she and Pinkie looked at the parchment, where another blue-black streak had made its way diagonally from top to bottom. Twilight growled as the parchment crumpled up before her and flew over her shoulder. Pinkie quickly grabbed the trash bin and managed to catch the crumpled-up ball just as it was about to make contact with Spike’s head again.
Twilight once more closed her eyes and issued a deep breath. When she had calmed down, she turned back to Pinkie. “How did you even know about Professor Devil Spit’s book?”
Pinkie chuckled. “Because, silly, you haven’t stopped complaining about it for the past two months or so!”
Another blank stare from Twilight. “Wait, you remember that, but you can’t even remember what we talked about this morning?”
The smile suddenly disappeared from Pinkie’s face. She began to pace around the room. “That’s just the thing! I don’t remember doing that this morning. I don’t remember saying to Rainbow Dash that we would hang later. And I certainly don’t remember punching Lyra in the face and breaking her nose!”
“You punched Lyra in the face!” Twilight said in alarm. “Pinkie, why would you ever do such a thing?”
“I don’t know!” Pinkie responded. “I mean, if you and Lyra and Dashie all saw me and talked to me, then I must have been there and done that stuff. But I don’t even remember any of it! And why would I punch Lyra in the face? She’s my friend!”
Twilight’s posture suddenly changed. Pinkie could tell she was trying to adopt a more comforting demeanor, but Pinkie could easily sense that, underneath, Twilight had actually stiffened up.
“Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said, “I say this as a friend, but I think it’s time we talked about something called ‘moderation.’”
“Moderation, what do you mean?”
“Well, we all know how fun your parties are, but sometimes they can get a little… shall we say, out of hoof? And well, I’ve heard that there’s more than just punch going around at some of those.”
“Wait, are you saying….”
“I’m afraid so. Pinkie, you have to cut back on all the sugar you take in at those things.”
Pinkie pulled back. Of all the horrifying things she heard today, this one literally took the cake.
“But… but… my parties wouldn’t be the same without all my scrum-diddly-umptious treats!”
“Pinkie, I’m not saying to cut away from them entirely,” Twilight said. “But just have a few to help yourself relax, and then cut yourself off. Don’t go too overboard to where you can’t control yourself anymore. Then we won’t have any more of you breaking Lyra’s nose and not remembering it afterward.”
“But….”
“No buts, Pinkie. Sugar, it’s a killer if you let it be.”
Pinkie shook her head furiously. “But that’s the thing! It’s not just that I can’t remember punching Lyra. It’s that I don’t even know how it could have happened!”
Twilight tilted her head. “Pinkie, what do you mean?”
Pinkie seemed about to burst with the need to make her friend understand. “I couldn’t have been there! I was in bed until noon!”
Pinkie suddenly paused and let out a giant gasp. “Unless… you don’t suppose I was sleep-walking, do you? Or sleep-punching? Twilight, is that what happens to me? I go to sleep and I become a violent hooligan who stalks the nighttime streets of Ponyville looking for innocent pony-noses to break? Is that who I am?”
Twilight could barely keep her eyes on Pinkie with how fast the pink pony was pacing around the room. If someone had just come into the library at this moment, they would have thought Pinkie was either in a race with herself or chasing her own tail around the room at a breakneck pace. Or both at the same time.
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Pinkie,” she said calmly.
Pinkie did not stop. “I can’t believe it – I am a monster! Bon-Bon was right about me!”
“Pinkie.”
“I should be locked up. For my own good, and the good of every pony. Who knows how many noses I’ve already ruined? I could be a wanted criminal – responsible for countless broken noses in every corner of Equestria!”
“Pinkie.”
“Twilight, you have to send a letter to Princess Celestia, telling her that I should be immediately rounded up and put in some deep, dark, scary dungeon where I’ll never be able to harm any pony ever again! Oh, they do let you have sweets in prison, right Twilight? You’ll make sure I still get a cookie or a piece of cake every so often, won’t you? You’ll do that for me, right?”
“Pinkie!”
Pinkie finally stopped pacing and stared at Twilight. Twilight started to smile a little. She felt she had finally gotten through to her friend.
And then Pinkie was on the ground, her forelegs wrapped around Twilight’s own. Her eyes looked up into Twilight’s pleadingly, with a mixture of fear and panic.
“Please, Twilight,” Pinkie said. “I know a Princess can’t be seen to have anything to do with an internationally-known criminal mastermind like me, but can’t you just arrange for the guards to sneak me a brownie every so often? Or maybe some delicious doughnuts? I’ll even take low-sugar! Just don’t let cut me off completely! I don’t think I could survive that deep dark pit of despair without something to brighten my day!”
Twilight put her hoof on Pinkie’s forehead and forcefully pushed the pink pony off of her.
“Calm down, Pinkie,” Twilight said. “Nobody’s going to any dark dungeons anywhere.”
Pinkie sat up and looked confused. “I’m… I’m not?”
Twilight smiled. “Celestia, no. Most of Canterlot’s criminal detention facilities are actually rather nice. A bit too much coddling of prisoners if you ask me, but still.”
Pinkie collapsed to the floor. “Well, as long as I’m off the streets, I guess.”
Twilight put her hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder. “Relax, Pinkie. It was just a joke. You’re not going to any prison or dungeon or jail or anything like that. Let’s just calm down and think about this rationally.”
Pinkie picked herself back up. “Okay, I guess you’re right. But I don’t want to be a danger to anypony, either.”
Twilight shook her head gently. “The Pinkie Pie I know isn’t a danger to anypony. And the Pinkie Pie I saw today definitely was not sleepwalking.”
“She wasn’t?”
“No, not at all. I mean, she was a lot quieter and not quite as bubbly as you always are, but she was definitely alert. We even talked.”
“We talked? About breaking noses, I presume!”
“No, no, nothing like that. I just told you all about how I had just gotten in the new book of Starswirl’s spells and showed it to you. You asked me if there were any spells for getting rid of swine.”
“That’s a silly thing to ask about,” Pinkie said. “Why would I ask about that?”
“You seemed pretty alert when you said it, especially when you said I should avoid spells like that because they might… hurt… me….”
A look of confusion came over Twilight’s face, followed by a look of anger. Anger directed at Pinkie Pie. “Hey, you were calling me a pig, weren’t you?”
Pinkie’s eyes grew wide in pain and sorrow. “I am a monster!”
She then turned her head away and held her hook to her chin. “And a really dumb one at that. I mean, who insults a Princess of Equestria with a direct line to Princess Celestia right to her face? I deserve to be locked in a dungeon for that alone!”
Twilight forced herself to be calm. “No, no, you’re not. I’m sorry, Pinkie. I shouldn’t have gotten angry. It’s not your fault.”
Pinkie smiled. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have called you a pig. Or broken Lyra’s nose.”
“She’s not going to let that go, is she?” said Spike from one of the other rooms.
Twilight shook her head, more to gain a grip on it (she felt it spinning) then to make a statement. “Pinkie, don’t apologize. I know you would never call me a pig or hurt anypony.”
Spike’s laugh came from the kitchen.
“Intentionally,” Twilight corrected herself, eyes staring daggers toward the direction of her unseen assistant’s voice. “You would never hurt any pony intentionally. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you can’t be responsible for this. Just take a deep breath and relax.”
Pinkie seemed to calm down again. She once more sat down and looked to Twilight.
Twilight smiled reassuringly. “Okay, better?”
Pinkie nodded.
Twilight turned around and began to walk back toward her writing desk. “Now, I do have some ideas about where to start. I’ve been making some notes about the effects of bilocation in my diary lately, and I think they might prove….”
Pinkie saw Twilight freeze, becoming as still as a statue. But Pinkie could also see that the hair on Twilight’s mane seemed to be standing on edge. Something not-good was up. Something very not-good indeed.
“Twilight?” she asked. “Is anything wrong?”
“My diary….” Twilight said. “What happened to my diary?”
Pinkie Pie sat in a small corner of the café, a chocolate shake on one side of her and Twilight’s diary on the other. It was hard to say which she devoured more greedily.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie, great party last night,” somepony said as they walked past.
“Drop dead,” Pinkie responded.
She returned to combing the diary for Twilight’s deepest, darkest, juiciest secrets. She avidly turned page after page after page. But finally, as she neared the end of the book, she looked up in disgust.
“There’s nothing juicy or scandalous in here at all!” she said, banging her hoof against the book. “Give me sensitive state secrets, give me feelings of resentment, give me deeply-hidden and completely inappropriate romantic longings, give me anything! Anything but this!”
She flipped swiftly through the pages. “There’s nothing in here but lists of books! That’s what she keeps in here? Not her most salacious secrets, just records of every single book she’s read since coming to Ponyville? What’s wrong with her?”
Indeed, the only things of interest which Pinkie could find were the occasional letters that Twilight had pinned in from a certain Professor Devil Spit of the Rational University of Canterlot, followed invariably by several pages of Twilight’s handwritten replies. And, other than the copious number of profanities Twilight had written and then crossed out, there was nothing that would much contradict the image of herself she presented to the world.
Pinkie Pie concluded that there was nothing which she could use here against Twilight. Not because Twilight was a saint, but just because Twilight was boring.
Pinkie sighed and drowned her sorrows in her milkshake. She continued to flip through the diary at a slow, uneventful pace. That is, until her eyes alighted upon one particular entry:
“Filled up the entrance to the mirror pool with a giant rock today. No way anybody’s getting through there for a long time. Upon inspecting the area, I found another, smaller, entrance to the mirror pool underneath that old oak tree that looks like an upside-down griffin, but I don’t think Pinkie or anyone else knows about that. I might sneak down there to do some tests on the mirror pool in my free time. As long as only I know about it, what can go wrong?”
Pinkie’s eyes lit up like fireworks. This was her answer.
What was Pinkie planning?
Read on.