Pinkie Pie's Excellent Adventure

by dashingrainbows

Rarity's Response

If you run out of turns, you can start over. Carve some instructions into a new rock. Put the rocks together.

Then break the old rock and the new one will work just fine. At least I hope so, or else I’m hooped.

You get seven turns. The last player gets to see something beautiful.

There we were, in Canterlot. Canterlot! The architecture never ceases to amaze me! And the fashion, oh, the fashion! Stallions standing in stoic silence with suits! Mares moving majestically, each more magnificent than the next! I couldn’t hold it in, I had to sing.

Elegant grace, flying fast before my face, traveling at a Manehatten pace!

Ponies unafraid, fashion all displayed, the loveliest buildings ever made!

Darling, join me! Darling, come see! Darling-

and then I was quite rudely interrupted by Applejack.

“Rarity, we ain’t here to sightsee.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while we’re here.” Really, that mare could stand to learn a lesson in manners. One does not simply interru-

“Here’s the place, the office of Dam Straight!”

The nerve! The very story I’m telling, interrupting me! But that’s no matter. I’ll get back to the narration.

“The nerve!” I said. “Who would give their child such an appalling name?”

The other five looked at me curiously.

“Dam… Straight…” I said. Could they honestly not see the problem here?

The other five looked at me, confused. There was a long awkward silence, which Fluttershy broke rather gently.

“Um… He makes dams. Straight.”

“No, he makes straight dams! What kind of a first name is Dam?” It was less than tactful, but it needed to be said. “Why,
it’s like naming your foal Apple!”

Applejack glared at me between eyelashes which were in definite need of mascara. But I ignored her unprovoked slight, and we proceeded to Mr. Straight’s office. There, Applejack’s lack of proper manners was revealed painfully, as I’m sure she has already recounted for you.

After the whole ordeal was finished, a question arose in my mind. It was question for Applejack, who was humming something, her face practically covered by her trademark accessory. I tapped her shoulder, to get her attention, but she gave no notice. The nerve! So I tapped her again, harder. She continued to ignore me. I decided to be blunt about it.

“Applejack, how did you know about the dam?” At that point, she pulled back her hat and I realized what an error I had made. In the place of her cocky grin, I found a frown – no, not a demure and coy pout, but a true frown. Around her brilliant green eyes were red puffy rings, which, though they contrasted quite nicely with her irises, were not becoming of any mare, let alone one so noble – if hard-headed and rude – as Applejack. And running straight past her freckles were several streaming tears.

“Ah ruined everything. It’s all mah fault”

And all at once, I understood how dreadful my behavior had been.

Something was wrong, very wrong with my friend.

And as much as I would have liked to cheer her up, I was not the pony for the job. You see, I simply do not understand Applejack. Her mind is absolutely alien to my own. One fateful sleepover I mistook our differences for malice, but something else was at play. I just can’t comprehend the workings of her brain. So I could be of little comfort.

No, I required a pony with a cunning understanding of the pony mind. One whose knowledge of pony psychology allowed her to effortlessly manipulate the emotions of others. A pony who regularly practiced these skills to further her goals. Questionable goals, perhaps, but there was no questioning her skills.

“Pinkie Pie, would you be a dear and speak to me for a moment?”

At this point, she brought me up to speed on the various time hijinks at work. I knew what I had to do. Despite her protestations, I immediately used Pinkie’s strange rock to travel to Fluttershy’s home and leave Applejack a note. When there, I noticed another note in the trash. I pulled it out, in case it had been knockeed there accidentally, leaving it safely on the sofa, and then I wrote a note of my own.

While quite naturally, force is often necessary to accomplish the ends one seeks, and in no situation is this

more true than that which is time-sensitive, such as the one in which you find yourself presently engaged,

tact and diplomacy are equally essential. In attempting to convey the threat posed by the fragility of the

Hoofer Dam, and the disastrous consequences of its imminent collapse, it is therefore imperative that one

seeks to balance the security of house and home with what one might call the finer things of life.

It’s most understandable that you care for your family, your friends and your property. But please, use tact,

use grace, use charm! A direct approach conflicts with your ends!

Your Loving Friend,

Rarity

After I returned, Pinkie rolled her eyes at me. In other circumstances, I would have responded in kind, but I needed to know something.

“Did it work?”

She rolled her eyes harder, apparently searching her eye sockets for any trace of decency. Finding none, she proceeded to rant on topics which were pure Pinkie Pie patent nonsense. I don’t remember much of what she said, but I do recall her going on about “idiots who think chronology is just a wibbly-wobbly ball of timey-wimey stuff” and the “causality continuum being twisted in the cosmic playground known as Ponyville”. Like I said, nonsense. I concluded I had failed. So there was really only one thing left to do.

“Can you tell me how to make Applejack feel better?”

So she explained, in great detail, what Applejack was thinking and feeling. Naturally, I’d never betray her secrets, so suffice it to say I was prepared to comfort my dear friend. She even provided me with lines to say, preposterous lines, but she assured me they would work.

Twilight insisted on taking us to see the princess, in the hopes she could remedy the situation. As we were entering the castle, I tried to mend my relationship with Applejack.

“Darling, you know how simply unbearable some ponies can be. Remember that Trixie?” Applejack shuddered at the memory, but Pinkie, standing behind the farm pony, gave me an encouraging nod. “Do you really think a pony like her could have been reasoned with?”

As we passed through the magnificent Antechamber of Friendship, Applejack shook her head, and I continued the – frankly absurd – line of reasoning Pinkie had supplied me with.

“It hasn’t got anything to do with your manners,” I lied, “it was his own failing. We will just have to solve it without his help, and all the better, not having to deal with that ruffian.”

As we passed into the Central Petitioner’s Holding Cell, Applejack’s eyes showed a glistening of hope mixed in with the tears. So I pressed on.

“Or Discord! We couldn’t have reasoned with him! It wouldn’t have made the slightest difference how we treated him.” Pinkie gave me two hooves up, so I decided to finish my little rousing speech.

“And that nasty griffon, Gilda!” Pinkie started making some sort of incomprehensible gesture, apparently trying to be encouraging. It was a sort of drawing her hoof across her neck, while making a wide-eyed face. “Just think, if she was mean to our Fluttershy, why, she would have been mean to anyone! It’s exactly the same as that.” I decided to throw in one last lie to seal the deal.

“Applejack, I don’t think there’s a single thing wrong with your manners”

At that point, a griffon wearing a crown spoke up. “Oh, have you made my daughter’s acquaintance?”

Oops.