Party Favor's Journal, July 20
The ramshackle town in the badlands reeked of helium and broken hopes. Rain fell, each droplet hitting the ground and splattering like a dream hitting cold, hard reality. Also the rain probably symbolized despair or something.
Two dames came into my office tonight. They had the kind of faces where it was like I'd seen them before, and yet like I'd never seen anyone like 'em in my life. Normally that would be a convoluted way of describing them as foxy ladies, but in this case it meant that they looked exactly like Princess Twilight and her friend Pinkie. Except no wings or cutie marks.
The pink dame said that Pinkie had sent her so I could teach her how to throw parties, and then the purple dame said, Stop calling us dames, and why are you narrating aloud in a gruff voice?
I lit up a cheap cigar. Of all the houses in all the villages in all Equestria, she had to—
“Can you stop talking like we're not here?” Twilight said, eyebrows flat. “And that's not a cigar. Stop being ridiculous.”
Party Favor, who wore a heavy trenchcoat and brown fedora, gestured dismissively with his miniature party balloon. “Look, I'm a party pony, okay?” he said in an irritated, but otherwise normal voice. “Pinkie sent you here because I'm ridiculous. We do bits sometimes. Roll with it.”
“Twilight,” Pinkie pleaded, “I've got a good feeling about this guy!”
“Ugh, fine. Keep going.”
“Thanks.” Party Favor cleared his throat. When next he spoke, it was in his prior gruff tone. “I told the two of them that I wasn't in that line of work anymore. Not enough to call it work, anyway. Ponies in Our Town, we don't need parties—we need infrastructure, which is where I come in.”
“Infrastructure?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “How does that have anything to do with parties?”
“She asked me how infrastructure had anything to do with parties. I cocked a smirk, like a nocked arrow, and told them to follow—”
“Can you not repeat the parts we've actually already said? I know you're doing a bit, but—” Twilight groaned. “Come on. Please?”
“She asked if I had to repeat the parts she....” Party Favor grumbled, then got out of his chair and walked to the door. “I told them to follow me.”
It was a sewer.
Made entirely of balloons.
“This seems...” Twilight grimaced wide, her teeth nearing her ears as she stood overlooking the stream of water beneath her. “Dubious.” Then she looked at Pinkie, whose mouth hung open. “Pinkie? Wide-open mouth? Sewer? You see a problem here?”
“Nope,” Pinkie whispered.
Despite the setting, everything seemed to sparkle. Pinkie's eyes reflected light off the balloon struts and arches, which reflected light off the water, which reflected light off the... other water....
Hang on.
“The old dog took a whiff of his cigar, proudly surveying his creation,” Party Favor said. He sucked in a drag of helium from his balloon, then continued in a squeakier, less gruff voice. “It was built one year ago this very day, and ever since, the residents of Our Town have been grateful.”
“I love this guy,” Pinkie breathed, watching him with rapt attention.
“After all,” he continued, sounding less like Dick Tracy, more like Bugs Bunny, “everyone needs a pit to—”
“Shut up,” Twilight said.
“Party Favor was a little hurt by the sudden—”
“I respect you're doing a bit. This isn't about that. Shut up.” Twilight yanked open her saddlebag and telekinetically pulled out and opened a book. Squinting in the dim, shimmering light, she read, “Equestrian Book of Standards, Volume 3. This sewer is to code, right?”
“He confirmed that yes, it was.”
Twilight sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “Which means that the water should, normally, be... there.” She jabbed her hoof down at a point about one foot below the current water level.
A water level which was rising.
Twilight returned the book to her pack, then retrieved another. “Pegasus Weather Almanac. July 20th. Light rains, over by evening.” She pointed at the open mouth of the sewer, half a mile away, but even at that distance the rainfall could be heard like blaring radio static. “Does that sound light? Because to me it sounds like the rain symbolizes a bit more than despair or something.”
“A flash flood,” Party Favor whispered, ashen-faced and squeaky-voiced. “Straight out of the Crystal Mountains, that's why it's not on the almanac.”
(“Ooh,” Twilight said, “the bit's over.”)
“We don't have enough weather ponies to stop it. The town's gonna get wrecked.”
“Unless we stop it.” Twilight tapped her head. “Think, think, what would Sunset do... what do you have with you? What are our resources?”
“Resources?” Favor let out a laugh. “There's nothing but dirt for miles around!”
Pinkie reached up and grabbed his face. “Do you have more of those awesome load-bearing balloons?”
Another snort. “I always have more balloons.”
“That's perfect!” Pinkie turned to Twilight. “You see?”
“Of course!” Twilight beamed with sudden comprehension. “Sturdy sacks plus dirt equal sandbags! You can divert the flood!”
“Me? I—I'm good with balloons, but I can't—it would take the whole town working together!”
Pinkie grinned. “Leave that to me.”
The two others looked at her. “You?”
“You know what you call an organized group of people?” Her smile widened. “A party!”
Who said saving a town couldn't be fun?
“I can see the flood coming!” yelled Favor at the top of his lungs—in pitch, not volume—as he peered from under his sodden fedora. Indeed, a surge was visible over the horizon.
“On it!” Pinkie called back. “Okay, boys and girls,” she said, galloping over to the last gap in the sandbag wall and holding up her tool: a board with a hole in it at the end. “Bag toss time! You know the rules, winner gets to keep their house!” She slammed down the board with the hole over the final gap.
The townsponies were panting, soggy, and shivering, but at the urging of Pinkie's voice they straightened up and threw their sandbags true. They went through the hole with unerring accuracy, filling out the last piece of the barrier.
“Hey, that's cheating!” Pinkie said, as one of the ponies took the sandbag in her magic and placed it through the hole. “No points!”
Twilight glanced at her from over the top of a very wet book entitled Proper Flood Barrier Construction. “Seriously, Pinkie?”
“There are rules, Twilight!”
“Come on, is it finished or not?”
“Let me check!” Pinkie yanked off the board and scrutinized the pile. “It's good!”
“Just in time!” Party Favor stood atop the barrier, his shrill voice carrying over the wind. “It's here!”
The flood struck and splashed him smack in the face, knocking him off the barrier. Twilight and Pinkie held their breaths as the sandbags shook with the impact.
Then the waters diverged.
“Woo!” Pinkie yelled, echoing the crowd's cheers. “Looks like we're all winners! Take that, nature!”
“Pinkie!” Twilight said, rushing to her side and hugging her. “What was on that list that the other Pinkie gave you, of things you needed to improve?”
Pinkie's eyes went wide. She reached behind her ear and pulled out a clipboard and pencil. “Parties with purpose!” She gasped. “Ooh, this is definitely a party with purpose! Nailed it!” She checked off the box with vigor, and beamed at Party Favor, who was dusting himself off after having fallen. “This must be why she sent me to see you!”
“Might be. Might just be.” Party Favor flashed a grin then fumbled inside his trenchcoat for another 'cigar'. “As I lit another cigar, I looked out at all I'd accomplished: a little stand against the darkness constantly surrounding—”
“Stop,” Twilight said.
Party Favor groaned.
“Oh, don't listen to her.” Pinkie pronked forward and hugged him. “You've taught me so much in so little time! And you didn't even have to say anything! In fact, I think I learned it all on... my... own?” She drew back, frowning. “Wait, what did you even do?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Who else did Pinkie send you to find?”
“Well, maybe she was really hungry and got distracted, because the next name on my list is....” Pinkie squinted. “Cheese Sandwich?”
“Cheese? Ha!” Party Favor's mischevious grin was back on again. “Oh, he's every ounce a party pony. Hard to find, though. Usually roams the desert in search of places needing a cheer-up.”
“Aww.” Pinkie's face fell. “We don't have much time. We can't check every town in Equestria! There's gotta be—”
“Two hundred forty five,” Twilight said, nose deep in a census.
“Thanks, Twilight.”
“Well, worry not,” Party Favor said. He took a drag off his balloon. “I don't know if you know this, but I fancy myself a bit of a detective.”
Pinkie and Twilight squinted at him in unison. “Yeah,” Twilight said, “we noticed.”
He let out another single laugh. “Girls,” he squeaked, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
July 20 (Night)
Party Favor pointed us in the direction of where Cheese would probably be! It's so exciting to think we'll be meeting someone the other Pinkie looks up to!
Twilight isn't writing this one, if you're worried. She's checking out the sewer and learning about balloons in construction, since we're hunkered down in Our Town until the flooding's over. Other than that, things are good! How about you?
Fucking fine
Good night
“That's... unusually short,” Pinkie muttered, squinting at the words. “Good night, Limestone,” she said, in lieu of writing it down, and turned over on her mattress to sleep.
The pounding of rain on the roof would have gotten her asleep very quickly, if the book hadn't buzzed again behind her. She whipped around and grabbed it.
Limestone got sent home again for fighting.
Oh no
Is she still allowed at summer school?She didn't tell m
I will literally set this book on fire if it doesn't stop buzzing
Shut the fuck up right now.
Pinkie slammed the book shut with feverish speed, and pressed herself into her mattress. Suddenly the thundering sound of rain wasn't relaxing. It was just loud.
July 22 (afternoon)
You were kidding about setting it on fire, right, Limestone?
July 24 (morning)
Helloooooooooooooooooooooooo