//------------------------------// // Genocide on Planet Zilch // Story: Pinkie Pie Tells A Story // by FeverishPegasus //------------------------------// Little Pip sat there for a moment, a bit taken aback. Not surprised necessarily, but very disturbed. After taking a few moments to shiver, he found his voice again. “Could you tell me one more story? Something a bit more cheerful?” “I do have a few cheerful stories.” “I want to know how you saved Equestria.” She frowned, “That’s kind of vague. I’ve done that plenty of times.” “I just want to know about one of those times.” “Sure!” she said, smiling. This one world I visited on my crazy adventures had all of the juniper sprinkled muffins. But the natives didn’t take kindly to strangers just eating their holy vegetable, which I didn’t get because they always hung from the trees. Right there. For the taking. You expect me not to capitalize on that? I mean, I got away with it for a while. Well, that’s a lie. They never caught me in the act at all. The reason I had to run from them in a panic had more to do with political reasons. It’s not that their politics were xenophobic or anything. The first time I met them, they treated me like royalty, assumed that I was a diplomat from some far away tribe. They even tried to set up trade relations with me, no matter how hard I tried to tell them that I didn’t know anything about the stuff. Eventually, they believed me, and just considered me a scout for the other tribe, and made sure to treat me with their finest hospitality, so that they could be seen as friendly to the outsiders. And of course I obliged. I mean, they were helping me for the wrong reasons, but I’m sure you would’ve taken advantage of that too. But when I didn’t leave for more than a few months, it occurred to them that I might not have a tribe, that in fact, I may be the only pony of my kind, and thus, wouldn’t have anything to offer. That is when they started attacking. To this day I’m not sure if they wanted to see what cooked pony tasted like, if they felt betrayed helping a random stranger, or if they simply grew sick of me and my pony mannerisms. The natives were an enigma, but it wasn’t an enigma that they were throwing spears at me as I tried to book it out of their camp. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if they’d caught me in the backside of the knee. Thankfully, I did not take spear to the knee and continued running until I was out of sight. For a bit of reference, the natives were very slow due to the fact that their alien body types had short stumpy legs, and that their long arms liked to get caught in the underbrush. If I’d taken a bit of time to look back while running, it would’ve been funny to see them trip over tree roots, clotheslining themselves with long arms caught in the bushes. What mattered more though, was the fact that as soon as I left earshot of their pounding footsteps, I found the motherload of juniper sprinkled muffins. Let me describe them to you. You know what muffins look like right? Well these were the holy juniper sprinkled muffins. And I bet you’re thinking. What do you mean by juniper sprinkled muffins? Did the natives just shred some trees and sprinkle them onto the muffins? Yes! That is exactly what happened! For some reason, the trees there tasted absolutely delightful, so the natives paired juniper tree seasonings with their next favorite food, muffins. And of course the muffins also grew on trees for whatever reason, so the natives would just throw some ladders up and sprinkle those guys. What didn’t make sense to me, though, was the fact that they climbed all the way up just to sprinkle the muffins with juniper. Why didn’t they just take the muffins down and sprinkle them with juniper there? Why did they leave the muffins on the trees for weeks at a time, just to come back later and pick them? It’s not like the muffins had to ripen or anything. As far as I knew from my few weeks of staying with the tribe, they just popped into existence. One day you’d see an empty tree, next thing, they’d be losing their branches to muffins. And juniper isn’t exactly something that soaks into food. It’s just shaved tree. I kept asking that question as I climbed up the muffin tree, more driven by curiosity than the actual want to eat it. I’d have to get to the bottom of their unique practices. And so, once I got to the top of the tree, I picked a medium-sized one and let it fall to the ground, climbing down after it. Once I reached the ground, I looked at it for a moment. This would be the first time I tried these muffins without the go ahead of the natives. In one second, I opened my mouth. The next, I took a bite, and then in the second after that, I heard an ear-piercing wail. “Aaaaaah!” it yelled. “Whahahaaaaaaah?!” I yelled. The muffin looked like a perfectly-normal partially-eaten muffin, but horrible sounds continued to come out of it. “What the hell were you thinking?!” “I, what?” I asked, confused. “The muffins here are actually alive?” “Darling, did you get this far with a brain like that? The fact that there are sounds waves coming from my body to greet your cochlea, not only means I am alive, but that I also know how to communicate with you.” I stomped my hoof on the ground in thought. “But, you could be one of those toys that just sprout canned phrases when you pull the string on their back.” “You bit me! I talked because you bit me!” I scratched my head, “You could be one of those novelty muffins that speak when you eat them…” It almost looked like the muffin wiggled in frustration. “You know what? I can’t prove it. How do you know you’re alive, huh? How about you prove it!” “I…uh. Well, for one, I can talk.” “I can too you daffodil!” “Okay, well, I can express my emotions.” “Are you serious, you don’t think I’m expressing emotions?” I put a hoof to my chin, deep in thought. “I’m not a muffin.” “And that’s xenophobic!” his voice rasped, tired from the yelling. “You’d think for a pony that likes to visit alien civilizations you’d be more broad minded.” “I am,” I drawled. “And quite frankly you’re starting to hurt my feelings.” If the muffin could’ve gasped, it would’ve. “And you’re trying to eat me!” “…you have a point.” It breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, now that that’s cleared up-” “Wait.” “What?” I grinned deviously. “You’re assuming that I have morals about talking muffins. But back where I come from…” “No! Wait! Stop! I can get you out of here!” I took my hoof off the muffin. “I am lacking a method of…transportation.” “Okay, good, gooood. Now let me speak for a second so that I can explain the situation.” “Okay.” “What you need to understand is that we’re in control. Not those natives. We hang from those trees so that we can inhabit their brains and make them make more of us. And yes, we can read minds too.” “Wait a second…” I nodded my head in concentration. “You’re saying that the muffins are really the natives? You were the people that attacked me?” “Attacked you?! Please forgive me but I don’t know anything about this attacking.” “Sounds exactly like something a muffin would say.” “No! I really don’t! Believe it or not, the elder muffins don’t get their children involved in politics.” I nodded shrewdly. “Good point.” “So, what I need you to do is put me back up on that tree, exactly where you picked me off so that I can infect more native minds.” “Wait, wait,” I said, holding a hoof to my head. “What’s with all the juniper sprinklings then? And how does that get me off this planet?” “The juniper sprinklings are our version of painkillers. It’s not fun to get eaten you know. If we get seasoned for long enough, it doesn’t hurt anymore, and we can put more effort toward wresting mental control from the alien children.” I cocked my head. “The least you could do is describe the children by the name of their species.” “Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend their name.” “Try me.” The muffin paused for a second, and from deep within, came an awful guttural screeching noise. “See?” “I…definitely comprehended it.” It sighed. “The point is that it’s an ugly name, and that this planet is much better off with the muffins in control. We’re a lot more cultured.” “Okaaaaay, but you still haven’t answered my other question.” “If you would stop interrupting me-” “Okay, I’ll stop.” The muffin paused, trying to establish some form of control over the conversation. “Ok, so you-” “You’re going to answer the question about how I get off this planet, right?” “Yes! For the love of whatever god you worship, yes!” I frowned. “Only gods I worship are the gods of-” “We have a special plant okay?!” “Ooooooh.” My eyes rolled sarcastically. “And let me guess. The experience just takes you out of this world.” “It does…actually. How’d you know?” It seemed muffins were incapable of understanding sarcasm. I scratched my chin. “Back where I came from the poison joke literally does that.” “Okay. I don’t see what a Poisson Distribution of jokes has to do with this, but as long as you act like you understand, we’re clear. Are you going to put me back or not?” “First off,” I said, holding my hoof up. “You haven’t told me the name of this magical plant, nor the probabilistic distribution of their growing locations in the forest. As far as I’m concerned. I can’t trust you.” It whimpered for a moment. “Could you just? Good god, you’re going to give me an aneurysm. The plants literally grow right below the muffin tree. Once you hook me up again, you’re as good as gone in terms of this planet.” “So you’re saying I’m surrounded by them,” I said, grabbing him in my maw. “What reason do I have to help you now?” It squeaked, “Honor system?” “Good enough.” I dragged myself up the tree, muffin in tow. “…how am I supposed to reconnect you?” “I’ll reattach myself, don’t worry.” “By the way.” I continued to drag the muffin up the tree. “If those plants don’t work, I’m going to pluck you again.” It made a shrugging noise. “I know.” “And after I pluck you, I’ll eat you.” “Please,” it scoffed. “I’m not worried.” I winced as a piece of bark stabbed itself into my hoof. “You’re confident I’ll be able to figure it out?” “No, if I’m being honest, but it is what it is.” Higher and higher we went. “So you’re fine with the possibility that you will die as a wasted muffin?” “No, not really, but what choice do I have? I can’t just sit on the floor of the forest, and make sure you do it right. If you do it right, that means you’ve left this dimension. Who would re-attach me to this tree?” For a moment, my heart panged with sympathy. “For a child infecting muffin, you’ve taken this situation pretty well. Thanks for being patient with me.” “No problem. Just glad we could communicate clearly.” “Like, I feel like we could take this relationship further. As friends. Do you like to play golf?” “Not really,” it sighed. “It’s hard to hit those little white orbs.” I cocked my head, still climbing the tree with the muffin in my mouth. “That sounds like the attitude of a quitter.” “Sometimes, you need to know where to cut your losses. Do you really think I have the form to wield a golf club?” “Hey! You can do anything if you try hard enough!” It laughed grimly. “Bullshit!” The muffin still being toted along in my mouth. “Enough of that new age shit. You really expect me to believe that? With all of my ruffles?” I gasped and my mouth opened completely. The poor muffin fell from my mouth and sailed towards the ground. Acceleration’s tough love broke it into pieces. It occurred to me that I no longer had to climb the tree, because of how I’d accidentally committed muffin murder. After taking great care to climb down the tree, I once again had my hooves on the ground. Blue glowing flowers surrounded me. It became clear what I had to do. ********************************* The forest burned around me, and as the flames encroached on the flower field, I began to feel the first high of its vapors. I reveled in the destruction of the forest. It all just came together as one euphoric moment. The things the muffin said floated around in my mind, the screams of the native aliens assaulted my ears, all in a cacophony that spoke volumes to my soul. Supreme. Blissful. Arrogance. At the thought that goals could change. At the thought that I could give up. At the thought that it didn’t matter whether or not you could accomplish things. You just had to go with it. Measure the meter of space and time and put yourself on display. Embrace its time signature and shine how you can. I felt great as my body turned inside out, and sucked itself into a new dimension. Little Pip chuckled. “I feel kinda bad for the muffin, but, I don’t know. I’m starting to feel giddy.” Pinkie grinned. But the revelry was short-lived, and Little Pip frowned. “Wait, what does this have to do with Equestria?” “I don’t know,” she looked at Pip, eyes wide. “But it works.”