Here I am, walking towards that huge, stupid-looking circus tent plastered in the middle of town. My feet drag across the dirt that lines Ponyville’s streets, accompanied by my horrid slouching and musing face.
The moon is shining quite brightly tonight, nearly able to drown out the amber lamps that give the town guidance. I wonder if Luna is watching me right now. ... Nah, probably not. I don’t think she can use the moon as some sort of mega-ocular. I mean, it's possible, but highly improbable.
Anyways, Pinkie has been pestering me about throwing me some sort of party or celebration for the past few months. It’s not my birthday till a while, there isn’t any special events going on, nor is it a holiday. Still, she remained persistent about this, until I finally caved in yesterday and told her fine. I had told her she could throw me a little shin-dig and we can have a good time. Just her, me, and the rest of the gang like Twilight and Applejack. Starlight too I suppose. And Spike.
Spike and I have mutual respect for one another, we're like operatives with a similar cause. Plus, he's the only guy that hangs out with the group of mares I've become associated with, so there's an automatic bond scored just from that.
So now, here I stand just before the tent’s entrance flap. I hear music blaring from the other side at an alarmingly loud volume, and the ground beneath me vibrates from the sheer concussive power of the bass system.
Damn it, Pinkie. I agreed to this party on the condition that it was going to be small and just us. Not this crap.
I think the whole town was invited. This tent could probably fit everyone.
Sigh. ... Why did I pinkie-promise to her that I was going to show up?
Now I’m thinking of just going back home... but there’s nothing to do back home except read books and comics. No television, no video games, no internet.
I sure do miss my stuff...
I extend my hand to the tent flap, but stop mid-way. More of those negative thoughts rattle in my head, the ones that make me want to just turn around and forget about this whole thing. Could she really blame me? I mean, this isn't at all what we agreed to. This is actually the complete opposite of what I wanted.
Still, no matter how much trepidation I feel about this whole thing, I'm already here. Turning back now would be a waste of not only Pinkie's time, but mine as well.
I push through the tent flap and walk inside. The music raises several decibels in volume once I enter, and the fact that no one goes deaf around here is a true miracle. My face automatically twists in displeasure as I block out the mind-numbing bass, and I look around the inside of the tent. It’s huge and spacious in here. There’s the local DJ sitting on a stage blasting music through her oversized speakers. Just above, hung near the ceiling of the tent, is a giant blue banner with pink paint that says “<3 ANONYMOUS <3.”
... I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. She WOULD do something like that just to make me feel even worse about myself. I know for a fact I'm not worth a giant banner with my name on it. It's just Pinkie being nice.
To add salt to this wound, the entire town is probably in here. There’s so many ponies around, dancing, panting and sweating, it’s horribly musky in here, which only serves to ferment my discomfort.
Through the crowd of colorful dancing equines, I can’t seem to find Pinkie or any of the other Mane mares. ... Ah well, I know what I’m aiming for.
I walk over to the best side of the party, the snack tables. Luckily for me, they’re located at the far right corner of the tent which has less bodies around and the music isn’t destroying my eardrums.
Shit. Some of party-goers noticed me. They’re telling me hello. They seem to be waiting for me to tell them hello in return, but I really don't want to. “Hehr,” I stammer out and wave stupidly at them, which is exactly why I didn't want to. Always, I find new and creative ways to make myself a fucking joke.
Finding the need to ingest copious amount of liquid courage, I finally make it to the snack tables. My eyes scan the spread, which contains lots of horsey foods. That’s to be expected of course, but it seems that Pinkie did well to take me into account. There’s a lot more things I can eat and WON’T give me indigestion compared to what will. Cheese, crackers, pastries, all sorts of fruits. Hell, there’s even a chocolate fountain here, but I don’t need that right now. I don't need food at all.
I walk to the farthest left of the snack tables where the punch is located. I acquire a plastic cup from the stack next to the punch bowl, where a random mare is serving herself some punch already.
Alright, she's done serving herself, now she just needs to move.
Nope. She’s just standing there, and now she's looking at me. Just keep looking away, Anon. She’ll move on eventually.
“Hey, Anon!" she calls happily to me. "You showed up!”
I don't even know this damn woman. “W-Well I herr yeah I showed. Up.”
…
The mare giggles and trots off happily, flicking her tail in amusement.
I should have brought a plate… for all of this spaghetti.
With the swiftness of a falcon, I fill my plastic cup with punch, which is about the same size as a regular red party cup from back home. I then proceed to chug the entire thing in one fell swoop, possibly looking very unfashionable in doing so. “Haah,” my shoulders droop along with my content sigh, “… that’s the ticket.” I didn't mean to say that out loud, but I could care less. I feel the spiked juice warming up my body. Maybe drinking it so fast wasn’t the best idea, but I can deal with that later.
Another one.
I notice a few ponies waiting behind me to get in on Pinkie’s amazing concoction. After I serve myself another full cup, I waddle to the side and free the punch bowl to other thirsty party-goers. I turn my attention to the rest of the party, seeing everypony having such an amazing time. Everyone dances, laughs, and it just looks so… magical, so jovial. But it still doesn’t feel right. I don’t remember ever attending any parties like this back home, it was always just me and a small group of friends. We’d play games, drink beer, and eat pizza.
I miss them. I take a sip of my drink. I miss my old life. Another sip. … My family. Another sip. A chug, more like. My family. The internet. So much shit just... disappeared from one night to the next.
Another upped bottom. I'm out of punch again. Maybe I should avoid looking like an alcoholic in public and pace myself.
With the urge to drown myself further, I fix my eyes on the punch bowl line. There's a stallion serving himself, but no one else behind him. I walk a little closer so no one gets in front of me, and I wait for him to finish. After he gets his cup, I see him look over to me, staring right into my eyes.
"Ch, you gettin’ more, Anon?” he asks playfully.
“… Yeah.” Am I being watched?
“Might wanna be careful, this stuff can mess you up,” the stallion trots away with a cheeky grin. "'N I speak from experience."
Even if he's right, I ain’t no lightweight. I move over and serve myself some more—
“Anon! That’s your third cup already!” says a familiar, hyper-active feminine voice. I freeze in place at the sound of squealing at me. I suppose I AM being watched. Damn it, woman, let me drink in peace. “You won’t be able to dance with me if you get poop-faced!” Pinkie exclaims.
I turn around slowly with a displeased look. “… Dance?”
“Yeah! Dance with me, Anon!”
I notice ponies in my immediate surrounding staring at me and Pinkie. I seriously don't hope she expects me to actually dance with her, but there's no indication that she's joking.
I don't want to cause a scene, so I signal to the pink pony with my hand. She follows me as I walk over to a more secluded corner of the tent, where I lean down and whisper into her flicking ear. “I don’t know how to dance, Pinkie. Please, you’re gonna embarrass me.”
“Aww! Come on, Anon! You’ve never even tried it before!”
“How..." my eyes dilate dubiously, "... how did you know I’ve never tried dancing?”
“I didn’t! I know now though!”
My palm collides with my face.
“Come ooon, Anon! It never hurts to try!”
“Yeah it could. What if I break my leg? Literally. Or sprain my ankle? Or bust my kneecaps?”
“Don’t be silly! That won’t happen! … Probably.”
I sigh in annoyance, “Pinkie, listen to me. I DON’T want to dance. To be an Apple... I don’t even wanna be here.”
It only takes a second of processing the words spoken for Pinkie’s expression to… fall, deflate even. Her ears drop to her head and her muzzle scrunches. “You… don’t want to be here?” she asks, barely audible over the booming music.
The sudden shift of the mare's expression is daunting. It almost appears as if that the happy-go-lucky Pinkie only puts up a front, a front that hides some sort of hidden, deeply ingrained sadness, but that couldn't be the case. She's a happy pony... right? I've never seen her like this...
“Not… really,” I finally reply after a moment of silence.
“… Oh,” her mane pops like an old balloon, but remains in a swirly, messy nature, “… I understand."
What am I doing!? “I-It’s not your fault, Pinkie. I'm grateful for all the effort you put in. It's amazing. The punch is killer! It’s just that… it’s not my birthday, or any particular event for that matter. This big party is a bit too much for me, I only wanted a small little get-together. I'm pretty sure this rave will do just fine without me. There’s… really no reason for me to be here. ... It would probably be better if I just went home.”
Pinkie sighs, “Hoo, Anon... I know it isn’t your birthday or anything. I just… wanted to throw you a big fun party to make you feel better.” Her glistening eyes reflect the bouncing lights of the party. “It’s okay, Anon. I understand. You can leave if you want.”
My eyebrows furrow at the words she speaks, "... what do you mean 'make me feel better?'"
“… Well, ever since you found out there’s no way for us to send you back to your home world, you’ve been so sad and gloomy… and seeing you sad made me sad,” her head lowers in defeat.
…
“… It’s okay, Anon. You can leave if you want. … Nopony will be mad at you.”
Shit, shit, agh shit, what am I thinking!?
My eyes dart around the booming fiesta. The music is still blaring, everyone is still having a good time, the party is still alive. There's still a chance for me to backpedal.
I've screwed things up with Pinkie. She put herself through all of this, she did so much for me. For ME. I could count the amount of amazingly generous things people have done for me with just one hand! I'm so damn stupid! Was I really going to just up and leave?
... No. No, I'm not that dense. Yeah, I miss my family, yeah, I miss my belongings, but things change. I'm here now, in Equestria with these ponies. They are my family now. They've been there for me when I arrived here a few months back with nothing but my suit and tie. They never let me down, and gave me a chance to pick myself back up.
Whether it’s the alcohol or my heart talking, the words come from my mouth, “Hey Pinkie.” Her gloomy eyes look up to mine. Just their depressive essence stings the deepest part of me... but no longer. “F... Forget what I said, I'm not about to let this go to waste. You're a great pony and I appreciate everything you've done for me, so… h-how about that dance?”
Her ears rise from her head and perk up, and her mane inflates itself back up as a growing smile takes her face, “R-Really!?”
“Yeah, I guess. I still don’t know how to dance at all.”
“Oh, Anon! Who cares! Just try your best! Eeeee, it's dancing time!” she squees as she bounces up and lands behind me. She starts shoving me with the strength of a raging bull and the soles of my shoes drag along the dirt so violently, I might need new shoes after tonight.
She stops me in the very center of the tent, where all of the other ponies are dancing. Her and I become the center of attention quickly. The DJ herself even lifts her shades up to take in my presence.
Pinkie stands on her hindlegs and points to Vinyl. “HIT IT, SISTER!”
Vinyl seems to know her cue.
... Her cue. Wait. Wait a damn minute. This was pre-planned? ... Dammit, of course it was pre-planned. I just got mega-suckered by Pinkie. ... She's a lot smarter than I give her credit for.
“Wut…” my eyes squint, “wait, I think I know this band. How in the hell does Equestria have--?” My phone. I now realize my phone went missing yesterday evening. I stand on my toes and peek up onto where the pastel unicorn plays the booming tunes. ... Yup, there's my phone, magically hooked up to Vinyl's massive speaker system. It's a good thing these unicorns can somehow magically charge my phone, or it would have been dead ages ago. I'm not entirely sure how it's even possible, their horns probably conduct some energy akin to electricity--
"Hrgh," I stagger suddenly when Pinkie bumps my side with her flank. She has started to move and shake her body.
Her dancing, to me at least, looks so ridiculous and funny. It’s so cute. Look at the way her legs move! The way these four-legged equines manage to move their bodies in such weird ways is always amusing.
“Come on! Dance, Anon, dance!” she shouts at me with a huge smile.
I look around and notice I’m the only still body in the wave of dancing souls. “Errr, uuuh…” I start to move my arms around in a horridly awkward fashion. Pinkie is still smiling happily at me. Despite my disgusting and lethargic movements, she's still smiling. ... That smile sure is encouraging, so, I continue to “dance.” If the embarrassment doesn’t kill me, there’s plenty of punch left.
But out of nowhere, an elaborately calculated shot of purple magic flies across the tent and strikes my stomach. The shot expertly flew in between the mass of ponies, until it reaches me as its destination. “Ick!” I grunt, as it stung a little on impact. I hold my abdomen and furrow my brows.
I know that was you, Twilight! What the hell!? I look around angrily as I try to spot the perpetrator.
Oh. Oh dear. … Oh no. I can feel it. It’s taking over.
Snap. Snap snap.
My body is surging.
Snap, snap, snap.
POSE!
Before I know it, I bust into an intricate dance. My limbs and body proceed without my say so, my mind rushes with the sensation to move. This magic is puppeteering me. I turn into Anonymous, Dancing Machine. My moves rival masters in choreography, my body is a twister of perfectly synchronized body movements. Pinkie watches me as I enter the Matrix.
“WOOO! YOU GO, ANON!” she shouts to me. "Shake that human boood!~"
I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, TWILIGHT!
Snap. Snap snap.
“OO. UGH. MM!” My totally necessary grunts follow the snapping of my mechanized motions. Pinkie suddenly joins me in my movements, appearing to know every single one of them. Questions rise in my head, but the rush of the dance takes over every part of me. I can't stop moving. I WON'T stop moving!
We dance as a duo as the spectators around watch in awe. I don't even care. This is actually... fun. I'm enjoying myself.
I'm enjoying myself!
“OO, YEAH! HEE HEE~”
Pinkie even matches my sounds, to which I shoot a questioning gaze to her. “You know Michael Jackson?”
“Who?” Pinkie replies confusedly.
I shake my head and snicker. The thought comes and goes just as fast as my legs move.
A tap and a snap.
Snap, snap!
Spin!
Holy shit I just did the splits and my slacks tore! Rarity's gonna skin me!
Dance after dance, I lose track of what my body is even doing. I don't know the name to half of these dances! The magic that makes me move, it all functions over the realm of plausibility.
The song is coming to an end, the music is surging through my muscles. I enter one last spin and twirl, then my hand reaches down to my crotch and the other points into the air. The music stops as soon as I do.
… It all goes silent.
… All eyes watch me.
… I pant as sweat drips from my face.
…
... Is this the part where I walk away?
“WOOOOOOOOOO YYEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
The crowd around begins to cheer and stomp their hooves. My body still remains in the same, glorious pose.
I don’t even try to, but I smile. I feel a warmth building inside me. A warmth that, I think, isn't attributed to the alcohol. ... The warmth of your family. I can feel her smiling at me, even though I don't look up to check...
Thanks… Pinkie.