//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Meeting One // Story: Pinkie Anonymous // by Daemon McRae //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Meeting One Pink Press had had a long day. With the near-disastrous appearance of the original Pinkie Pie, the thoroughly undeserved verbal lashing from Pie Regard, and the absolute cacophony of a ‘party’ that had ensued, she wanted nothing more than to go home, sleep her few hours, and get back to her regular job. Away from other Pinkies. Unfortunately, there was one other order of business she had to attend to before she could ship off to slumberland. It was one she’d already been planning for since this morning, but after spending an inordinate amount of time ‘in the office’, she wanted nothing more than to not be here. Still, she, like every other clone, had made the same promise. Weekly meetings with her assigned group of clones, to report progress, talk schedules, and overall shoot the breeze. Not that she minded the meetings. Some of her best friends were clones. They were also rather practical: one Pinkie out of each group took notes on the weekly schedules, and handed them in to Pinkwell each day. That way, she could tell each Pinkie where to be and when to avoid running into another of ‘herself’ in public. It was the only way they’d managed to go undetected so long. It also helped that most of them had turned out so radically different after they’d left Ponyville that almost none of them had the same circle of friends, and those groups that did overlap had their ‘one’ in common that could cover their flanks. Still, one thing the original Pinkie had been good at was planning for the unexpected, a tait they’d all been rather grateful to inherit. One of the few. “Hello, everyPinkie!” a cheerful voice interrupted Press’s reverie as she snapped back to attention, her gaze whirring about to land on the Pinkie clone that had spoken. They were distributed in a circle, much like a substance abuse meeting (which one or two of them had actually landed themselves in, after some rather unfortunate false starts in the city). The speaker was a clone named Ice Pink, who owned a froyo shop in the mall. Her hair was done up in an old fifties’ bob, cut a bit short but still curly. She seemed to have inherited the original’s taste for sweet things, if not baked goods. “Hello, Ice,” groaned the crowd at large. They were all showing signs of weariness after the events today. One or two of them hadn’t been here for the actual ‘event’, having heard about it afterwards, but their exhaustion was no less earned: they’d only just showed up in time for the meeting after a long day’s work. “Now,” Ice Pink continued, “I know everyPinkie has had a long, tiring day,” she started, a statement met with much low-key grumbling, if mostly in agreement. They’d also learned long ago that trying to break Ice’s habit of using ‘Pinkie’ instead of ‘Pony’ while at Pinkie Anonymous was a losing battle. She’d simply grown too fond of her mannerisms, sharing much of the original Pinkie’s flare for life and happiness. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, of course. But neither was Pinkie Pie. In small doses. As prescribed by a physician. Ice Pink pressed on, “And I’m sure we’re all ready to go home.” More grumbles. “But we have a job to do, and a responsibility to our fellow Pie. Not to mention I can see a few kettles in the circle tonight that need to let off some steam,” she added kindly, looking to a few clones in particular. “Would anyone like to start?” “I would,” said one Pinkie, dressed in a deerstalker cap that hid all but a lock of her hair, and sucking on a pipe. One that didn’t actually blow bubbles. A few clones rolled their eyes, and Ice Pink said patiently, “Of course, Pinkie P.I. What do you have for us?” The private detective shuffled through a nearby saddlebag, and pulled out a small folder. “Well, good and bad news. Kind of the same thing, in this case. Like we thought, that Pinkie is the real deal. Followed her after the party and saw her galavantin’ with the rest of the Elements. So she checks out.” A few Pinkies nodded. Having some confirmation outside of an unsubstantiated promise and a single witness eased a few minds, even if it did mean they’d come close to discovery. “Which also means she’s gonna keep to her promise. You guys all remember what happened the first time somepony here tried to break a Pinkie Promise. Let alone The Big One.” “How was I supposed to know breaking my own Promise would actually hurt?!” one Pinkie growled. This one had long, straight hair, and glared at the circle as if it was one giant steak on the slab. “Now now, Pinkemena, no one’s blaming you,” Ice said soothingly, “We’ve all learned our lesson. That’s good news, P.I. Now, does anyone else-” “I gots more,” P.I. interrupted, in a flat monotone, not unlike one of their ‘sisters’. This statement was met with quite a bit more groaning, which she ignored as she pulled out a bigger file. “Followed that ‘Buried Lede’ fellow-” “My BOSS?!” Press shouted. “WHY?!” “Cause I needed to make sure he was on the up and up. Also he’s kinda hot for an older guy,” P.I. explained. A statement that was met with a few giggles from some other Pinkies. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. Just said something to his boss about how he’d sent you home to put all the notes together. I believe the words he used were-” “-’Making herself useful?’” Press asked dejectedly. “Yeah, that’s him talking to the big boss, alright. Okay, I guess I owe you a thank you.” “No problem. Now, about the alligators-” “NOPE’” the clone previously addressed as Pinkemena interrupted. “We are NOT talking about the sewer gators again! What is it with you and this urban legend bullshit?!” A few Pinkies gasped. “Mina!” Ice scolded. “Language!” “I’m sorry!” Pinkemena barked. “I just… I wanna go home, ok! We got a ten top coming in tomorrow from the griffon embassy and I gotta be at work super early and carve an entire manticore and my boss is on vacation getting married! Do you have any idea how hard it is to prep manticore without poisoning a filly?!” Another clone shivered. “Um, how about I just say ‘ew’ in a loud and carrying voice?” “Whatever,” ‘Mina’ grumbled, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms in a pout. Ice Pink blinked a few times as she shoved the mental image of a manticore on a butcher’s block as far out of her head as she could without chemical assistance. “So, Pecan Pie? Any… good news?” she asked the clone who’d shivered, one of the few who’d held on to the original manestyle. “Well, not really. I mean, nothing bad. Just… more of the same. Man, I can’t wait for the holidays. We’re always so slow at work in the summer. Fall is way more exciting.” Press nodded. “Yeah, no kidding. With all the awards shows and holiday deals and crazy ponies that come out with the cold weather, there’s no end of work. Honestly I’m just thankful to have a few weeks to store energy for the winter.” There was a generally more amicable air as the conversation turned to the changing of seasons, the daily grind, and finally, working out the normal schedules. Once all was said and done, the Pinkies set about on their way home, eager to sleep and get back to a life away from… themselves.