Sweet Victory
Big Macintosh descended step by step into the gloom. Then, to his surpise, it became light. The same little lanterns that filled the library were strung out here, and the clear handiwork of Spike’s domestic prowess was proudly on display for those few who ever came to the library’s basement. Of dust and cobwebs there was no trace, and even the air tasted fresh and clean as outside, despite being underground.
The stallion paused when he realized that one of the lights was not a lantern at all. Rather, it was a ruby and golden little bird, glowing like a candle, its head following him with a smooth, singular movement. Its eyes drooped in comfortable sleepiness. It cooed to Big Mac with a soft, friendly little chirrup.
Macintosh Apple reached up, stroked its chin and found that the phoenix chick was warm to the touch, and very soft. It murmurred happily and rubbed its head against him. The luminescent little creature was, by all estimates, very content with this. “Can’t be all bad,” the pony mused. He let the chick be, seeing that it fell promptly asleep once he had left it.
“Hello?” he hazarded. “Miss Twilight?” He had been listening for some kind of response, but while none was forthcoming, it did lead him to notice that there was a certain humming noise, some kind of machinery at work, droning away in the background.
That, he supposed, would be the contraption the mares had warned him of.
The underbelly of the library was nothing like the Apples’ cellar, Big Mac noted. The one was preternaturally dark, tucked away and compact, the very epitome of storage. This was open and spacious. There was more than enough room for strange quirks and stranger ideas to trickle down from all the untold millions of words shelved above.
The centre of the floor was dominated by...well...the Apple could finally understand the mares’ difficulty describing the Relationship Plotter. It made the alarming contraption that was the Flim-Flam brother’s locomotive factory look tame and simple by comparison. Snarls of wiring, blue and green and red and yellow chased one another every which way. Here a piston drove up and down and there interlocking gears - at least one as big as a tractor wheel, some small as a bit - turned every which way left and right and left and right and left and right until Big Mac got vertigo just from staring.
He’d seen an alarm clock once in a shop, one of the vintage windup kind that chattered little tin bells with a hammer when it was time to wake up. For curiosities’ sake he’d wound the mechanism and let it do its thing, but the shoddy old piece had shuddered and blown itself apart; springs and cogs and pins flying everywhich way, the bell ringing a doleful last chime. Embarrassed, he’d rushed to pay the angry shopkeeper and had promptly left.
This was like that, all that catastrophic breakdown just waiting to happen, but so much bigger. A lot bigger. And no clock the stallion had ever seen nor heard of had coloured tubes like that, meshed together by a series of little levies and valves and tanks through which water - at least, he hoped it was water - bubbled and surged, shooting up and down by means and for purposes unknown.
He peered closer and saw that each slim tube that slotted in and out of the main network had a marking on it. Big Mac squinted and saw, disconcertingly enough, that these were the faces of all the Ponyvillians, one resident to each. There were even markings, like a thermometer would have, along each pony’s representive piece.
There was a metal sigh and a piston wheeze, and the clockwork matchmaker slotted two apparantly random options into place. Valves opened and shut as the various pathways for the liquid to take rerouted itself, this time allowing only a modest sum of liquid that gurgled up into each tube.
Whichever two ponies these were, the machine seemed to decide that they were not all that into one another. The Relationship Plotter huffed out a gout of steam, sucked the fluids back down into the main resevoir, reset to default and rotated the two tubes back in amongst the rest.
Big Mac did not wait for the next unfortunate hypothetical couple to be scrutinzed mechanically, and gave the machine a wide berth as he stepped around it.
He found Twilight sprawled across a work table, papers strewn every which way under her. Worry gnawed the back of Big Mac’s neck and the tips of his hooves. She looked to have collapsed from utter exahustion. Her inkwell had tipped over, spilling its precious blackness across the manic lines of several graphs. Notes circled prominently in red were drowning like islands being reclaimed by an inky sea.
“Twilight?” he whispered, afraid to wake her, afraid to leave her. The mare muttered in her sleep, her head rolling over her legs in the futility of ekeing out some comfort from the awkward position. “Twilight Sparkle?” he tried again, ever so gently setting his hoof to her shoulder.
The mare propped herself up. Her head struggled to lift itself on a wibbly-wobbly neck. Bloodshot eyes peered out from the gummy curtains that were their eyelids. “Big Mah...Big Macintosh!” Twilight thumped herself with sudden shock as she bolted upright, sending herself and her chair hurtling over backwards. She scrabbled to her hooves. She clutched desperately at the sheets nearest her, hugging them protectively to her chest, pointing the hoof of bewildered accusation. “What are you doing down here?”
The stallion didn’t want to panic, and was uncomfortably aware that the horn she waved about would work weird and wonky magic at a whim, if she so willed it. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he said in the most soothing voice he could. He stepped closer to the little unicorn. “Are you feeling alright?”
“What?” She dropped the papers, letting them fall however they may to the floor and rubbed at her eyes. She shook her head as if to clear a haze from herself. “Yeah. No. I’m not sure. Why is it you?”
“Like I said, I came by to talk with you.” Not often did Big Macintosh feel the prickling urge to justify himself, but he felt it now. “It just felt like we had something to discuss.”
Twilight glanced dizzily upwards. The stallion followed her gaze; it was a clock. “So you came here, now? At ten minutes to midnight?” she said with more of her usual sarcastic candour.
Big Mac nearly bit through his lip, so desperate and eager and willing was ‘Eeyup’ to answer for him, to fill in this little piece of time and place in the universe so perfectly. He wanted to cry - so close to midnight! - but he found his resolve and carried the word, still burning and aching, in his chest. Big Mac nodded resolutely. “It’s important,” he said, but it just wasn’t the same, and he knew it.
Twilight circled around him, eyeing Big Mac from the sides. One side of the Plotter was all levers and it was one of these the mare pulled down, struggling with her full weight to move the stubborn iron. Macintosh Apple, minding to not touch her in any way, put his hoof to it; the lever dropped into place with a thump that shook little Twilight. Somewhere within the Plotter, new gears clanked and groaned into motion.
“Why’d you make this?”
She peered back at him. “Why wouldn’t I make it? You know how much we could learn? The whole process of relationships could be made so much simpler...” she mused on a whisper.
“It could be a lot of ruckus for a lot ponies, is what it is.” Big Mac chewed his lip. He looked up: PeeWee slept and glowed with not a care in the world. The stairs he perched over could lead the stallion up and out from this mess. Rarity had spent all day reasoning with Twilight, what hope did he have? He glanced to the clock - five minutes to midnight. He whistled in a deep, sharp breath, but she cut across his attempt to speak.
“It works. Every part works!” she insisted, stamping her little hoof on the floorboards. “It should work,” she sighed, and slumped to the floor, loose strands of her mane poking into the cracks.
“What do you mean?”
“I had it test the Cakes,” she said, not looking up as she spoke, instead switching dials and pulling levers. “I never let the machine know they were married with foals. It figured that out anyway. Just like it's supposed to. See?”
She stepped back. The Plotter clanked and whirred. Carrot’s and Cup’s little faces came front and centre, the tubing between them filling up quite full. A brown bauble floated up between them. “That’s supposed to be a single earth pony foal,” said Twilight. “That’s what it predicts.”
“But they have-”
“I know. It doesn’t matter.” She rubbed her eyes vigoursly, as if to push the red threads right out of them. “I mean, of course it matters, just not here. Not in this. It figured out their relationship perfectly. All the other test runs too.” The big lever clunked down again and the little faces went on their way. Big Mac was happy to see them go, they gave him the heeby-jeebies.
More gears turned, new tubes slid in and out of place as tanks gurgled. “I set it to start predicting relationships once it’d proved that it could. It should have worked,” she said, giving the metal a half-hearted whack, then headbutted the machine in her frustration.
Big Mac wanted to talk about this morning. He wanted to settle that issue, not get dragged into this one. The black feeling that they were one and the same snuck over him anyway. “What went wrong?”
“You did!” she cried out, wisps of smoke and tiny tongues of flame leaping out from her hair as her legs shot out in all directions. “You didn’t fit in neatly anywhere. The machine couldn’t comprehend you. The only way to keep the other shippings in the algorithm stable was to pair Big Macintosh with Caramel. The fact that Big Macintosh is not with Caramel is unbalancing the whole program!” Twilight huffed and stomped along to the far side of the Plotter.
Big Macintosh blinked, and didn’t say nothin’ for a long moment. “You’re mad at me because I don’t fit your numbers?” He thought he should expect to feel confused. Truth be told though, he felt angry. “You’re mad, at me, because I don’t fit your numbers?” he repeated, iterating each word more forcefully. Something strong was stirring in his chest, something he couldn’t hope to stop.
Big Macintosh breathed deep. Tried to quell the rising tide. He couldn’t. He glanced at the clock. A minute. One little minute. Sweat beaded on his brow. “That’s not on,” he said, measuring each word carefully. Anger filled him right up, the feeling being so rare for him that alarm filled him right up, too.
“What do you know?” The unicorn growled back. “You didn't even notice that...” her voice trailed away in vicious little mutterances.
“It doesn’t work that way, Miss Twilight. Can’t just turn ponies into numbers than multiply ‘em together to make it all work out neat.” The little hand and big hand clicked together like the key opening the lock to freedom.
Midnight.
“Nope,” he whispered. Nope filled him, flowed through him. The essence and idea of Nope made him stand up taller, stick out his chest further. “Nope,” he said again, pointing at the evil machine. All his feeling and sentiment, sharpened down to a single spearhead, was flung at the Plotter.
“Nope! Nope nope nope! NOPE!” he shouted, almost expecting the Plotter to crumble and be blown away by the word.
By the smouldering hot flanks of Celestia, it felt good to reconnect with his true self again. “Eeyup,” he whispered under his breath. “Ain’t nopony’s business but their own, who goes with who.”
Twilight, rather frayed and stunned by the whole display, blinked. The seconds ticked along into the first minute past midnight; a new day. “Who goes with whom,” she said, but the combative tones from before were dispelled. She sighed and sat down, lost amidst the scattered notes and charts. “This was a terrible idea,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
Big Mac huffed a breath of relief. That had sorta been his trump card, a stern talking-to, just like his Granny used to do when he was little and being bold. ‘Nope’ was pretty magnificent, when he got right down to it.
“And you won your bet,” she mused quietly, gesturing half-heartedly at the clock. The frantic mare was gone, replaced by one entirely more rational and sensible...and far more tired, it seemed. Too tired to be excitable.
Just as the stallion tried to contemplate what it meant to be victorious, Pinkie and Rarity came down, crashing and fumbling against one another on the stairs into the basement. Poor PeeWee was given such a fright, and a particularily eager leap from Pinkie Pie made both mares tumble. Rarity for her part hardly seemed to notice and rolled neatly to her hooves, whereas Pinkie found herself embedded in a heap of assorted tools and tomes that crumbled and fell atop her in a ruckus of noise.
“Whatever was all that shouting about?” Rarity asked, deigning not to notice Pinkie’s struggle to extricate herself, only raising her voice ever so slightly to deal with Pinkie’s muffled struggling. “Twilight, dear, you look dreadful!” The unicorn ran over to Twilight Sparkle, insisting that she help her to stand, as if ‘looking dreadful’ was a debiliating injury and required immediate medical assistance.
“You were right,” Twilight said. She was so shakey, it might as well have been an injury she’d endured. “About everything. I should dismantle the whole thing. It’s too much trouble. The Plotter would just upset everypony.”
Rarity ran her hoof through Twilight’s tattered mane. “It’s always a pleasure to see you come back to your senses. Though if I’d a bit of shouting was all it was going to take, I would have indulged myself this morning and saved us all this mess.” Twilight gave her a look, which Rarity laughed away nervously. “Nevermind that,” she said. “I am equally glad to see you’ve turned out well, Big Macintosh.”
The way she spoke, it always gave him the urge to bow and be as gentlecoltly as he could. To meet her high prose with something of his own. “Eeyup,” he said, feeling very satisfied with himself.
Rarity ran her hooves over Twilight, a purple pillow to be fluffed back into a suitably soft and presentable shape. “With a grin like that, I assume you’ve beaten Applejack in your little game as well? Pinkie was utterly distressed as we watched the seconds count down. I had faith in you, of course, but there was no consoling her.” Rarity giggled at her friend’s silly and misplaced doubt. “Can you hear me in there, Pinkie? All turned out well!” There was a certain smugness to be heard in Rarity’s voice as well, one that Big Macintosh found rather agreeable.
Pinkie Pie exploded from the debris as only Pinkie Pie could. Bits and bobs rained down around them as the mare heaved in a great big breath. “I changed all the clocks in Ponyville to be five minutes fast!” She rattled off, panting, heaving, eyes wild.
The meaning of the words struck Big Mac hardest. “You did what?”
“Adjusted all the clocks! Tik’d their toks! It’s not midnight yet!”
“Pinkie!” Rarity hissed. “How could you? What were you thinking?!”
She looked frantic, like she might cry, Big Macintosh thought. Just this moment, he nearly wanted her to. “I don’t know,” she said. “It was a feeling. A super feeling.” Pinkie stared him in the eye, there was that same lambent blue, full of unexpressible wit, now tinged with worry and guilt. “I had to do it,” she said as her gaze broke away. “It felt like the right thing to do.”
The stallion said nothing. Another lesson from his Granny; to say nothing at all if he could say nothing nice. He’d been so close, only to be cheated out of his rightful, hard earned win? Big Mac had a whole lot of nothing nice to say right about now.
Twilight waded through the mess over to her friend, perplexed, but with none of the fuming sentiments that both he and Rarity shared in. “Sabotaging Big Macintosh’s bet with Applejack felt like the right thing to do?” she asked.
“Yes,” Pinkie confessed, almost defiantly.
“That,” Twilight said slowly, “Makes absolutly no sense to me.” She didn’t say it like an accusation. Rather just that Pinkie was an amazing natural phenomenon that brookered further study. The unicorn closed her eyes. Her horn lit up and from that purple glow a ghostly clock floated into being, a purple circle with purple lines shining in the air. She looked between it and the mundane one pinned to the wall. They all did. “It’s not made up, either.”
“Geez, Twilight,” Pinkie mumbled, walking through the etheral projection, dispersing it. “A girl spends the whole day getting to every single clock and watch in Ponyville and changing them all, she should hope it’s not just made up. That took a lot of work, you know.” Pinkie turned to Big Macintosh with what he realized were puppy eyes. Big blue puppy eyes, ones that pierced right into him and proffered up a gift-wrapped apology. He wasn't ready to accept anything of the sort just now.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Big Macintosh Apple...you lose.”
He looked to each mare in turn, and they to him. Big Mac felt tired, tired as Twilight looked, like all the extra hours he’d stayed up tonight had attacked him, all at once. He sighed.
“Alright then. I’m going home now. Goodbye.”
He turned to leave and nopony tried to stop him. Rarity looked like she wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come to her, as if she too had been on a silly bet and the right ones, the ones that could explain and justify any of this were forbidden to her. He passed by PeeWee, not stopping to give the dozing chick a tickle under the chin. He stepped out into the dark of the night, fumbling about the road until his eyes adjusted to the emptiness of it.
It was a long walk home. He didn’t wake anypony up when he got there; the truth would be just the same in the morning, and that would come soon enough anyway. Big Macintosh did not sleep comfortably. He kept asking himself why, right on into his fitful dreams.
'...Don’t be too mad with me,
okay?...'
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...A shipping machine...
Twilight, we need to talk about your obsession with Shipfics...
NOPE! I AM MAD!
But seriously, that was a really surprise twist.
But wouldn't outside interference render the bet null and void ?
I mean, it IS cheating, not to mention a nasty thing to do.
So AJ can't seriously expect this to count. If she does I'm gonna want to she Big Mac beat her as bad as Pinkie pie right now.
(Nnnope. Y'all cheated. Bet's off.)
... not mad at you. Cause truth be told, if ALL the clocks are 5 minutes fast, that means AJ won't notice.
that was horrible, why, why would this happen, that not even remotely fair
Wait..... Hold on....
MOTHTER@$#$#$%#$#43$43! You can't do that! Twilight, you go back in time and fix this right now! Big Mac go back there and punch Pinkie in the face! That's not fair! If she changed all the clocks than TECHNICALLY it was midnight in Ponyville! HA there! LOGIC! BEAT THAT!
ARRRRRRGH!
*Throws rock at monitor.
Big Mac won the via disqualification.
3233696
That's my thought, too. The only reason he let it go was because the clock he was looking at made him think it was past midnight.
Then again, if he had known it wasn't past midnight, he might not have been able to snap Twi out of her plotting (mathematically, of course), and some major snafu occurs.
In the grand scheme of things, losing a bet < unleashing an insane, very powerful unicorn obsessed with shipping (and possessed of a want-it-need-it spell) on the world.
... and I started defending Pinkie when my primary point had nothing to do with her. What in the world, brain, what were you thinking?
Nitpicks!
descdened
descended
murmurred
murmured
had ever seen nor heard of
ever goes with or, not nor.
little levies
do you mean levers?
the varies pathways for the liquid to take rerouted itself, this time allowing only a modest sum of liquid that gurgled up into each tube
-various, or varied
-themselves (plural in line with pathways)
-liquid to gurgle up
It just felt that we had something to discuss.
I, not it
Though if I’d a bit of shouting was all it was going to take
Something's missing here. Perhaps "if I'd known" or thought?
natural phenomenon that brookered further study
I ... don't even know what word you wanted to use here. "Brookered" doesn't exist and "brokered" doesn't make sense, nor, I think, does "brooked". There are many, many things you could say, such as "called for", "invited", "demanded", "merited", etc.
Didn't know Pinkie would be such a bitch to do something like that, then she says she's sorry......
That's like me busting your face with a hammer and then apologizing. 
Well I hope Pinkie is proud of herself. Now you have to make it up by giving us a chapter faster!
3233772
In the word(s) of Big Mac: Nope
Or, to paraphrase Aristotle: An honest goal cannot be achieved by dishonest methods (And betraying a friend is a VERY dishonest thing to do)
3233740
That is actually a good idea, claim that Pinkie changed the frame of reference, and therefore, that he won the bet.
But anyway, at the very least the bet is off and Big Mac is justified in expecting some serious apologies.
I would argue that he didn't lose at all; Pinkie Pie sabotaged him, invalidating the wager. Of course, knowing Mac, he'll insist on acting as if he lost fair and square because that's the nature of the stallion in question. Naturally, it would make AJ feel like an utter heel as a result.
So... Mac is going to have to dance wearing a bonnet? AJ, girl, has anyone told you that you're a suitable case for treatment? Seriously, okay Twi might be an OCD who seems permanently on the verge of a psychotic breakdown but at least her craziness makes a kind of sense!
Saw that coming a mile away.
Also, considering it was cheating, the bet'd be off.
Another great chapter.
It feels like we are nearing the end of this story, but it's the good, closure-y kind of feeling.
And, since we're allowed to say that now:
It's a good story.
Eeyup.
........
Wow. Cheating.....Pinkie = fail.
Not sure WHY pinkie would cheat....knowing that the whole break-a-friend's trust thing is the fastest way to lose a friend.....
so much for THAT lesson.
3233834
3233696
I think you hit the nail on the head.
Huh...
Well...
I think Kage no Brony was onto something when it (EDIT: OH DEAR GOD I ADDRESSED YOU AS AN IT, you are a he! HEEEE!!! Or she, I DUNNO!) mentioned that you either A) Lose the bet or B) potentially mishandle the situation and do some real damage to an, already neurotic, unicorn.
Perhaps Pinkie pie did that because Big Mac needed his two biggest words (Eeyup and Eenope) in order to calm Twilight down once and for all. (THE POWER OF EEYUP COMPELS YOU.)
I know people are saying Pinkie was being a real dummy. (and Believe me, I agree. that was totally a jerk move to sabotage him, and he shouldn't take that as a loss.) But to think that Pinkie didn't do that without reason would be silly.
Well we'll see the big reveal next chapter!
3233984 Actions have consequences, and even if Pinkie did it so Big Mac would be able to calm down Twilight (which sounds like a bit of a stretch to me), I would still expect him to feel aggrieved at her actions. Of course, Big Mac could always take the high road and keep his end of the bet, even if it was a tainted victory.
3234050
Oh of course. I fully expect Big Mac to confront Pinkie Pie as to why she did it. I'm expecting fire works to go off. I'm not trying to defend her in this aspect at all. She's pretty much dug her own grave and threw a party in it at this point.
But we know Pinkie Pie to not be so... well, betraying, to put it lightly. So before I go crucifying Pinkie Pie to the wall I'd like to hear her particular reason for doing so (just telling me "it felt right" isn't enough)
So its just speculating at this point. We'll see the big reveal next chapter. The important thing is, is that I am essentially agreeing with everyone here. Big Mac shouldn't lose the bet. Pinkie Pie is gonna have to answer to AJ, Big Mac, and everyone else involved, and perhaps we'll come out of this story with a happier status quo.
I'm just reminding people that Pinkie Pie 'does' have a reason... (whatever that reason may be remains to be seen. Must be pretty awesome to go against a huge part of her morals.)
3234050, 3233984, 3233938, 3233934, 3233933, 3233834, 3233772, 3233816, 3233730, 3233760 and holy hooves of changelings enough names tagged already - everyone else -
Some clever ideas floatin' around from y'all 'bout this here
, but not one of ya's has figr'd it out yet. 
And frankly, I'm enjoying that a whole lot. 
3234125
Trying to figure out Pinkie Pie? Why, that's the path leading to insanity.
And why would I want to go somewhere I already am?
Hah!
What the hell, Pinkie?? I'm sure there's a reason, maybe even a good one, and possibly even one that Pinkie isn't even aware of, but damn, girl.
Pinkie turned into a twat...
I just don't get why Pinkie would do that.
She's supposed to embody the element of laughter & that wasn't funny. She's supposed to be everypony's friend & that's a pretty rotten thing to do to a friend.
Unless she had a damn good reason I dont see why Big Mac or any of the girls should forgive her anytime soon.
Pinkie switching the times five minutes fast is a prank one to far... and not fair on Big Macintosh, he should win by default because of what Pinkie Pie did...
Applejack would probably let him off the hook... She's too honest herself for it to sit right that he was tricked into losing... But by the same token I don't think Mac would accept being left off the hook. Once you start splitting hairs and such about unspoken rules, the value of your word pretty much becomes dependent on conditions. Marc's word is currently unconditional... If he says he'll do something, he's going to do it. He wouldn't trade that to get out of a bet.
Since Pinkie's sole purpose in life is to make others happy, then clearly her Pinkie Sense must be telling her that losing the bet will make Mac happier than winning would. It was a nice touch that Twilight can't puzzle out how, but seems to trust it anyway. Being in the basement with a crazy machine likely reminded her of that hard learned lesson. I guess we'll have to see how it works out.
I do hope he gets around to having Twilight answer why she built the machine in the first place...
But that's the ending this story needs, isn't it?
Or else no one learned a lesson about themselves, right?
But that is what MLP is, right? Learning a valuable lesson. No one learns anything from a gamble.
And that's all this story was, right? A stupid bet?
And bets that involve an entire community are bad...
And that is your big ending, isn't it?
Oh well. Bravo.
Hope you are satisfied.
Of course Pinkie Pie has a "Good" reason. She was going off her sense, and will probably lead to something wonderful and beautiful in the long run.
But frankly, if someone did something like that to me, I probably wouldn't forgive them. Ever. I'm really rather vindictive like that.
In any case my sympathies go to Big Mac for what he's feeling now. To be so close to victory and have it snatched away... ... And there's nothing to be done but to honor his bet. Even though it was unfairly lost.
3234125 You wrote this chapter just to see the ensuing shitstorm, didn't you?
What the hell, Pinkie!?
I swear I want to see her getting some karmic punishment for that, sabotaging Big Mac effort is going too far.
No.
Ugh, fine. Let's see where this takes us...
3234441
I have to admit, not correcting your misunderstanding was a big temptation to me just there. Maybe let some well-meaning but overzealous commenter step in for me. but than that'd be inviting trouble. So no: I'll point it out for you - Do you see the 'Complete' tag anywhere, 'cause I sure didn't put one up yet. There's still one chapter to come, rest assured. Maybe that will soothe your disssatisfaction? We can only hope
3234596 In a word?
Nope. (Come on how was I even supposed to pass that oppurtunity up, seriously?
)
Absolutely been following the plot I had from the get-go (more or less). I do get a kick out of confounding expectations though. Where would the fun be otherwise?
3234626
Dissatisfaction? Ending?
I know it is not over-
It's just my prediction and opinion.
If I'm right or wrong, it won't matter. It's your story.
My distaste comes from your Author's Notes.
You knew how readers would feel or say ahead of time.
Shame on you.
You even admitted you take great delight that no one has figured it out. Like you wrote a great mystery.
No matter how the story pans out- Well, we just get a glimpse of who you are Author.
3234654
It apparantly seems that I did.
But let's not make this a fight.
3234684 You better have the next chapter out soon before you cause rioting and gang warfare in the comments section!
"Pinky?" I said as I watched Big Mac leave the room.
"Yeah?" She said turning to me with a small smile.
"Changing the clocks was a Ninety-nine Percent Idea." I said softly, and Pinkie's smile fell.
"What is a Ninety-nine Percent Idea?" Twilight asked.
"There are 'Good Ideas' and there are 'Bad Ideas', and in the 'Bad Ideas' column approximately one percent are 'acceptable ' and can be done occasionally. The other ninety-nine percent are 'bad Bad Ideas' and should be discarded immediately." I said to Twilight. "Only, sometimes they aren't discarded, but acted upon; hence the term 'Ninety-nine Percent". Changing the clocks so that Big Mac would lose his bet was and is a Ninety-nine Percent Idea."
"I think I understand now." Twilight says as she looks at Pinkie, whose mane has gone flat.
3234654
Nothing wrong with a bit of schadenfreude,
everyone has laughed at someones pain,
loss or rage at one point or another.
Do you want the chapter to be any different?
Just for you? I'd bet you do, you, you, you.
A bit codescending honestly.
He can get kicks out of this.
It is his own work after all.
Nice fakeout by the way.
When I first read what Pinkie did I was all like
. But then I noticed that the story was still marked 'incomplete.' There may be hope yet! 
why pinkie? how did that prank feel right?
grrr to the author for messing with heads
I see the chapter title and my first thought is "the clock is fast"
3234821
All this fuss over a curveball plot development
I just don't know what went wrong
)
(or right? Let's go with that
It is clear Pinkie has had a sense that says this was the way to go for a happy ending so the real question is how is this losing the bet going to give us a happy ending and in what way? Hopefully it will be worth possibly losing Mac's trust for a time.
3233984
HOW DARE YOU!?
Well, I suppose I simply must forgive you, as you merely showed your ignorance...
For the record, though, I'm a guy.
What a bitch!
3235363
Did you just?....
lol, alright all good :D.
Ooooh, I love mysteries and puzzles!
Something tells me that her Pinkie Sense didn't want him to lose because of what happened at Twilight's place, it's intent was probably more indirect than that. The whole thing with stopping Twilight's obsession with the shipping machine feels like a giant misdirection.
So what other plot points have been introduced?
Applejack & RD's rivalry and subsequent Appledash tease, the CMC's explosive new pond, Cherilee's platonic friendship with Big Mac, Granny Smith's scary level of wisdom, the many, many, borderline psychotic mares in Ponyville, the things Spike and Big Mac share about masculinity, the fact that Big Mac leads a very self-regulated and simple life, the fact that Big Mac apparently doesn't have a romantic match according to the machine (barring Caramel, anyway)...
Oh, and so far, we've seen Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash... Is Fluttershy going to show up in this fic? Could she be the missing piece of this puzzle?
Theories, anyone?
Actually, by cheating in that fashion, Pinkie just voided the entire wager.
Were this a legal wager in a casino. any court would find in favor of the plaintiff if it was proven the casino 'fixed' the machines.
Indeed, if Applejack collects on this fraudulent bet now, she will have violated the connection with Honesty! Discord will break free and turn their bodies inside out, keeping them alive while they beg for death to end the endless agony!
Well, it could happen! I've seen fics with plots that were wayyyy more outlandish!