> The Pernicious Pinkie Pie Plague > by Word Worthy > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Fun...fun...fun > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As one could imagine, I’ve seen quite a few unusual outbreaks in the centuries since my reign as Princess began. Be it anything from the cutie pox, to the dancing plague, gender swap germ, fur blight, or even contagious gigantism, Equestria – like any land – has never been without its bouts of sickness. Fortunately, thanks to our medicine, magic, alchemy, and sometimes just the simple passage of time, such maladies come and go with usually minor damages. However, as I stood in her bedchambers and stared over the bedridden form of Luna, my mind painted a much different picture in the present. Whatever this current outbreak was, this elusive plague, it was far different from anything that has come before. Luna lay buried under a mountain of thick blankets, only her head and neck visible. Just four candles burned in the room to supplement the early morning light sifting in from the window for illumination, yet I could still make out her visible features well. Luna’s mane had lost its usual flowing gleam, and a large portion of it hung low in matted, disheveled curls that formed an unruly curtain of pale hair over her horn and weary face. Her underlying fur glistened with feverish sweat. Breathing was sometimes shallow, but overall, steady. However, it was Luna’s fur that was what I found to be her most alarming feature as of late. Entire tufts of midnight blue fur across her neck had transformed into a strange, vibrant pink affair that left Luna’s entire coat a mottled patchwork of this bizarre new morphology. The pink. That was the most immediately identifiable symptom of this disease in its advanced stage. I had seen it from afar on dozens of other ponies in the five days since this epidemic began. It is what we derived the disease’s name from, dubbing it the “Pernicious Pinkie Plague.” Initial stages seem to exhibit what you would usually expect from garden variety pathogens: fever, coughing, delirium and the like, and then finally the pink fur sets in. But five whole days pass, five, and we still don’t even have a clue how it may transmit, let alone where it originated. Cases seem to spring up in random locations without any indication of how the Pinkie Plague pathogen could have been brought there. Because of this, the doctors are almost convinced it may be of a unique magical nature the likes of which have yet to be recorded. Luna herself had experienced no contact with any of the infected before falling afoul of the Plague after raising the moon last night, as far as I can tell, and there has thus far been no reports of it being spread directly between ponies in close proximity to infected citizens, defying the conventions of normal contagious diseases. I turned around and moved my gaze to the stack of medical literature that lay on the desk in one corner of the bedroom, and began pouring through them for the umpteenth time. None of them I had read thus far made any mention of this disease, nor anything like it, not even a copy of the most promising book titled: Perplexing Pony Plagues. Indeed, the Pernicious Pinkie Plague may be the first of its kind. A fit of moaning and groaning trailed closely by strings of delirious murmuring drew my attention back to Luna, and I quickly ceased in my pondering. I approached her large four poster bed with haste and parted the surrounding veil to peer inside, thinking that sister might be trying to say something to me, assuming she was even alert enough to register my presence. Luna’s eyes fluttered open fully from their previously narrowed state at the sight of me, and I almost reeled back in surprise at how bloodshot they had grown in so short a time. Her murmuring increased in swiftness as we made eye contact. I leaned in as close as my instincts permitted in an attempt to discern her words. “Fuu...uuun.” “Luna, I–I don’t understand…” I replied back incredulously. “Fuuuu….unnn….fun. Fun!” “What are you trying to te–“ “Fun!” Luna interjected, her voice increasing emphasis on the word with each repetition, yet somehow keeping within a soft, almost whispering tone. “Funnn….fun!” “Do you need something, Luna? Some water, perhaps?” “Fun. Fun. Fun!” Luna managed to shrug off enough blankets to raise and point her right foreleg at me, wide-eyed like a madmare. “Fun!” I shook my head, and gathered up the books from the desk. Communication was apparently fruitless. Best to leave her in the care of the doctors, there was nothing more I could do to help her at the moment. The Pinkie Plague has given no hint of being a lethal disease in any way to any of the races of pony, so I’m just going to let Luna rest, and I’ll assume her duties until the sickness runs its course, as it inevitably will. The first recorded patients from five days ago are beginning to return to normal, but the rate of newer cases continues to rise. As I levitated the stack of medical literature out into the hallway, I gave Luna one final troubled glance before gently closing her door. Making my way down the corridor to my own chambers, I was confronted with an alarming scene. “Princess Celestia, Your Highness! We’ve got another one!” It was a troupe of royal guards, chasing one of the servants up ahead of me. The mare was bouncing up and down like a lunatic towards my direction, and it wasn’t until I could hear her and see her fur that the situation became clear. “Fun! Fun! Fun! Fun!” The maid’s coat was almost entirely pink and wild, and only small patches of her original brown fur remained. “Get her to the infirmary, please,” I answered back, stopping the sick mare in her tracks gently with a telekinetic field. “Posthaste.” She came to rest just a meter in front of me. “Yes, Princess.” The stallions nodded, and they promptly carried the afflicted pony away. The brief encounter put a further damper on my mood, and I let out a sigh. Staying up all night watching over Luna was definitely taking its toll. After that and the raising of the sun, my muscles were stiff, and my legs felt like blocks of marble as unwavering as the floor I tiredly walked upon. Perhaps a brief nap before heading to my throne would help? I must have slept far longer than intended, for the clock read midday when I reawakened. Against my desires, sleep had done little to alleviate my stiffness. It took a great commotion outside my door just to rouse me out of the enticingly comfortable folds of the bed sheets. “Guardsponies, what is ha–” My words caught in my mouth as the situation practically explained itself. Yet another squad of royal guards were rushing through the corridors, this time much larger, and furiously pursuing a half-dozen plague-infected ponies that were bouncing around like metal springs. All of their coats and manes were completely pink, as rosy pale as a foal’s chewing gum. To my utter shock, I could have sworn I saw Luna leading them. “Fun! Fun! Fun! Fun! Fun!” The ponies’ magical disease-induced chanting blurred together like that of a chorus, and their individual voices were hard to make out from one another. My suspicions were confirmed when the cohort suddenly turned about, much to the guards’ collective irritation, and assumed a course that passed right by the entrance to my chambers. I gawked, dumbstruck as sister passed by me, flashing me a grin and hopping with filly-like glee. I was about to emerge out to render aid to the guards, when I noticed something out of the ordinary about my leg as I gripped the handle of my door. Oh, wonderful… The whitish fuchsia grey fur…my fur...it was turning pink! I immediately backed away and closed my door firmly shut, sighing in a mixture of disbelief and mild vexation. Looks like Cadence and Kibitz will have to fill in for the both of us. This was going to be a long couple of weeks for me. Not fun weeks, either. I chuckled in spite of myself. Definitely not fun, not until the Pernicious Pinkie Plague runs its course, at least. Once that happens, Equestria can get back on track to normalcy, and Luna and I can fully return to our duties. As I made an effort to return to studying the various books in nigh-futile search of answers for this plague, I accidentally lost my grip, and a couple of them tumbled to the floor. I suppressed an all-out giggle, as the forces of gravity attempted to irritate me in their arrogance by feebly defying my telekinetic might. What is fun to somepony like me, anyway? I’m always so busy. Guess what? I'm not even going to bother picking those books up. Work, work, work! Never enough time for…fun. Why am I still wearing my royal raiment? It’s sweltering in here! The golden vestments fell to the floor as I cast them off, joining with the small untidy pile of books. My surrounding world began to inexplicably come to life in an explosion of vibrant, festive color and celebratory music. Everything was awesome. My legs seemed to almost take on a mind of their own…I–I felt an almost overwhelming urge to jump with joy. Fun…Yes. There was not enough time in a day, for a princess of Equestria. Not even for the Princess of the Sun, of all ponies. Never enough time for merriment, leisure, gaiety, or fun. Fun…fun…fun….