Ponyville was a wonderful place to be in Equestria, and Pinkamena Diane Pie knew this well. She very literally bounded across the cobblestone streets of the quaint hamlet, humming to herself absentmindedly. With every hop, there was a childlike sound almost like a spring, and every landing brought an immediate relapse back into the air. Pinkamena herself had bright pink fur and slightly darker pink hair, making her stand out well enough. Pinkamena didn’t pay herself any mind, for she was-
“Don’tcha mean Pinkie?” she chimed jubilantly, “Everypony I know calls me Pinkie, silly!”
I’m not gonna act like I didn’t write that in there purposefully. As I was saying, Pinkie didn’t pay herself any mind, for she was perfectly happy with who she was. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong, nor spoil her day, not even the fact that she had to break the fourth wall just to chide me about naming convention. This was because today was her favorite day (though technically every day was her favorite) since today was another workday at Sugarcube Corner, a local bakery in Ponyville. Pinkie loved working at Sugarcube Corner since it meant baking, which was her favorite thing to do when not partying, but it also meant selling lots of yummy things to her favorite ponies in Ponyville (everypony is her favorite pony) five days a week.
Baking was a pastime for her, even when she had lived on a rock farm, and so working at a bakery was a natural extension of that. Because of this, she naturally gravitated towards Sugarcube Corner, owned by the pleasant and appropriately named Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Since then she had become their best (and only) worker, baking and selling with a culpable capability unlike any other ponies before her, though truth be told cutie marks had a nasty habit of making professionalism bias in the Equestrian job market. As Pinkie bounded her way through town, her happiness radiated to everypony around her like an infectious disease.
“Hi, Derpy Hooves!” she exclaimed, mid-bounce.
“Wow!” Derpy Hooves, a gray-colored pegasus with blonde hair flew by her skewed eyes rolling towards Pinkie with a vacant smile. “Hi there, Pinkie- oops, sorry!”
Derpy had subsequently flown and crashed into a market stall while waving back.
“Hey there, Cranky Doodle!” Pinkie proclaimed to a mean-looking donkey with tanned brown fur and a clearly fake slick blond toupee.
“Hi, Pinkie.” he replied grumpily.
Despite his attitude, his tone seemed to soften at Pinkie’s demeanor. He added a mutter that sounded something like the phrase ‘have a nice day’ in a low voice, his shifty eyes darting away from her. Pinkie beamed.
“Hey there, everypony!” Pinkie cried aloud in the town square, her face a smile of joy. “Nice to see you!”
“HI THERE, PINKIE!” Everypony in the square replied, a smile on their face.
These things were the norm in Ponyville, and without Pinkie, it was unlikely everypony in the Ville would’ve been capable of being so continually pleasant. Even the hardest and most reclusive of ponies opened up at her approach, never having known a pony (or any kind of creature for that matter) who hadn’t been won over by her charms. Her claim to fame was the fact that she was friends with every pony in Ponyville, which was not an easy thing to hold down… unless you were Pinkie. Pinkie finally arrived in front of a charming building that resembled a life-sized gingerbread house, and she hopped inside. There, a mare and stallion stood behind the counter, chatting to each other. They were not smiling, but Pinkie didn’t notice.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie greeted cheerfully, “Ready to get baking?!”
Mr. and Mrs. Cake turned to Pinkie, with expressions equal parts relieved and distressed.
“Hello, Pinkie.” Mrs. Cake replied. “I have an, um, important job for you. Do you think you can handle it?”
Pinkie nodded as she approached, her rhythmic bounce unending with every step.
“Of course I can, Mrs. Cake!!” she responded proudly,
Mrs. Cake looked to Mr. Cake, who nodded with a small smile to his wife. She turned and cleared her throat to make an announcement.
“Just to let you know, bits are getting a bit tight, so we don’t have enough ingredients to make some of our orders.” She told her, “If anypony orders anything using these ingredients-”
Mrs. Cake extracted a list of ingredients and stuck it in front of Pinkie.
“-then you’ll have to refuse them.”
Pinkie cocked her head, not understanding the situation completely.
“Why are we low on bits and ingredients?”
Mrs. Cake exchanged glances with her husband.
“Well, we haven’t been getting enough orders lately, and the Ministry of Defense has been buying up from our suppliers. We’re running low, but we’ll try to hold on.”
“Huh,” Pinkie replied with a shrug, “I never noticed.”
A few days ago…
Pinkie hung over the countertop of the vacant Sugarcube Corner. She sighed aloud, with a prolonged lip flap.
“So… bored!” she complained, “Where is everypony?”
Yesterday…
Pinkie slammed her head against the countertop. It squeaked like a chew toy. She groaned even louder than yesterday’s recorded groan.
“Is anypony gonna buy something?”
Present Day…
Mr. and Mrs. Cake looked at each other again, while Pinkie smiled innocently. They seemed worried, but they brushed it off.
“Well, that’s good.” Mr. Cake said. “Alright Pinkie, we’ll be out for a little while, but we’ll return in a few hours. Your job is to watch over Pound Cake and Short Cake while we’re gone, and not say a word about what we talked about. Understood?”
Pinkie nodded and saluted with enthusiasm.
“You can count on me, Cake family! Auntie Pinkie’s on the watch! Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”
Pinkie Pie did a cross sign with her hoof and then stuck it in her eye. Immediately after, she began patrolling the front of the counter like a soldier, carrying an imaginary rifle to the beat of imaginary military drums and imaginary polished boots in an imaginary (but realistic) marching formation. Mr. and Mrs. Cake couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics and waved goodbye as they departed. Pinkie waved back cheerfully.
“Bye! See you after a while!”
She turned back inside and watched as Pound Cake crawled on top of the counter. Short Cake stuck an empty candy wrapper in their mouth. The two infants babbled innocuously.
“Silly foals.” Pinkie giggled to herself.
Pinkie was bored again, really, really bored. Aside from Derpy, who came in every day for her muffins, nopony had bothered to buy any baked goods at all that day. It was a mixed blessing considering how some of their recipes couldn’t be made, but it didn’t stop Pinkie from being bored. She watched as a tumbleweed rolled by the counter, wondering how it even got in here.
“Ugh, bored!” she complained, draped over the counter again. “So boring!”
Pinkie had already taken care of the Cake Twins and put them to bed, leaving her to run the shop alone and nurse her burn wounds (unicorn foals aren’t good at controlling their spells). Pinkie had cleaned and swept, counted the bits, and sorted the ingredients. Pinkie had chuckled as she imagined Twilight recommending different sorting methods. Now she was back to doing nothing, which was something she sincerely didn’t like doing. She could throw a party… but she had made a Pinkie Promise to watch over Sugarcube Corner and the foals. She couldn’t do that while partying, could she?
Poor Gummy’s so tired from his last party, he’d never be able to watch the shop while I’m gone! She thought distressfully.
Pinkie rolled over and sighed, and although Gummy hadn’t actually done anything that warranted relaxation, he still did because he was Gummy. Time seemed to pass at Mr. Snail’s pace (Fluttershy’s snail friend), which led Pinkie to inspect the walls for every minute detail, even playing a few mundane games by herself (single-player tic-tac-toe was never that fun, to begin with). There was nothing to do, not even bouncing felt fun. She wasn’t as upset as she was just bored, but you knew that already.
What I wouldn’t give for a disaster of some kind. Pinkie mentally told herself, That’d be fun to solve, and there’d probably be a fun friendship lesson too! I just hope-
The door was flung open at that moment, and Pinkie wondered if she’d spoken too soon. There stood Mr. and Mrs. Cake, looking harrowingly exhausted, back from their outing. They walked, looking at Pinkie with desperate, worried eyes.
“Hey Pinkie!” Mr. Cake exclaimed tiredly, “How did… how did things go?”
Pinkie nodded dully, rising off the countertop and absentmindedly cleaning the display glass she had smudged.
“Fine, but bore with an ing! The worst kind!” she told them. “Nopony’s been buying anything.”
The Cakes exchanged fearful glances at each other.
“Nopony?” asked Mrs. Cake anxiously, “Nopony at all?”
“Nope.” Pinkie replied. “Nopony at all, except for Mr. Snail, but he didn’t buy anything.”
Mr. Snail trailed by at that moment. The two didn’t look at him, only at Pinkie with apprehension and timid expressions.
“What of the finances?” asked Mrs. Cake
The jobs to manage around the shop including the finances, which Pinkie hadn’t really paid attention to. She’d just done what the Cakes had taught her to do, and that was it. She might’ve been a bit too busy watching Mr. Snail make it from the front door to the counter… and cheering for him… cheerleading for him, actually.
“I did all the calculations you asked me to do,” she said, “and after sorting through everything…”
Pinkie brought out a giant poster board with a graph on it. A red line spiked downward further and further across the chart, breaking the bottom of the graph and piercing off of the board and onto the floor, however that was possible.
“I found this big red line is going down a lot.” Pinkie informed dimly, before cocking her head again. “Is that bad?”
Pinkie could be very knowledgeable about some things, but finances weren’t one of them. The Cake’s pupils contracted, and their heads swiveled to face each other again, then back to the chart, then back to them. Then to Pinkie.
“Pinkie…” Mrs. Cake said finally, her lip quivering a bit, “My h-husband and I n-need to talk. Can you w-wait here?”
Pinkie may have seemed all bubbles and laughter, but she knew sadness when she’d seen it before. It was obvious they wanted to speak of it privately, but Pinkie still felt concerned.
“Oh… okay. Okie Dokie.”
The lack of a Lokie said it all. The Cakes nodded, clearly on the verge of some form of emotional outburst, and they immediately began moving for the vacant kitchen.
“Thanks, Pinkie.” Mr. Cake added half-heartedly as the pair sidled off. “We’ll uh… talk to you in a sec.”
The two raced into the kitchen and shut the door behind them. Then it locked.
Pinkie sat there for a few minutes worried as Tartarus before she heard what sounded like deliberating, then shouting, and then… crying. She put herself up against the door and strained to listen.
“Mr. and Mrs. Cake?!” she cried, ill at ease for their condition. “Are you two okay?!”
The door unlocked, opened, and the two appeared before her. Tears were staining Mrs. Cake’s face. She shuddered, while Mr. Cake pulled a foreleg over her and brought her close. His eyes closed solemnly and he bowed his head, before turning to face Pinkie.
“Pinkie I… we’re afraid that… that Sugarcube Corner can’t stay open… anymore.”
A light in Pinkie’s eyes went out.
“Wuh… Wh… what?” she managed weakly.
Mr. Cake nodded solemnly as he cradled his wife. She was sobbing uncontrollably now.
“Yes,” he said finally, after a moment of somber silence. “I’m afraid we don’t have the bits or ingredients to run this place. That means… it means we’re closing down.”
Pinkie threw herself at their hooves.
“N-No way!” she refused, stricken with angry tears. “There have to be some baking supplies out there, right?!”
“What do you think we were doing, Pinkie?” Mr. Cake told her, defeated and upset. “We were out all day trying to find ingredients! We went to the next town over just to get some extra flour…”
He paused as if the thought was still haunting him. Pinkie stared back with her tear-stricken eyes.
“And?” she asked, in a small voice.
“Nothing,” he replied simply, with a thousand-yard stare. “Not a pinch. No baking powder, no flour, no milk, no eggs. It’s all going to war preparations in Canterlot… and while we did get ration books, we couldn’t get enough for running the place without sacrificing our own needs, and we don’t think starving ourselves for Sugarcube Corner would be very prudent.”
Pinkie Pie was laying in a puddle of her own tears now, but she still looked at him. Mrs. Cake was still in a fit of her own.
“But-but-but-but what about baking?! Ponyville’ll need a super fun place to get baked goods, right?!”
Mr. Cake just stared at her sadly.
“Pinkie…” he told her slowly, “Sometimes there are things more important in life than baking… as much as it pains us to say this…”
There was a pause that felt like Celestia’s entire lifetime.
“You’re fired.”
Pinkie felt her soul shrink in size. The very thing she loved doing, that she did every day, that she wouldn’t give up for the world… was gone. Poof. Vanished. Pinkie had spent her entire adult life baking at a bakery, and now there was no bakery. True, she probably could hire herself to a new one, but no bakery was ever like Sugarcube Corner.
“B-But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, blinking away tears. “You can’t stay closed forever… can you?”
Mr. Cake looked away now. It was clear he had thought of all of this and had already had the same conversation with his wife.
“We don’t know,” he said tonelessly. “We might be able to come back in a year if we have enough bits… but to make ends meet, we’re selling Sugarcube Corner. That means you have to move out, too.”
What little that was left of her soul shrunk three sizes too small. There was practically nothing left of her life, all of it gone in a matter of days. No house, no Sugarcube Corner, no baking for the ponies of Ponyville. Pinkie Pie had never known a nightmare worse than this, and now it wasn’t just a dream, it was her reality. Everything that happened afterward was a blur of emotions and emptiness, though Pinkie’s hair bubble remained unpopped (though sagging). In an hour, Pinkie Pie had packed up her things and set them out front of Sugarcube Corner.
Mr. Cake had torn down the sign, boarded up the windows, and moved their things into a large wagon. Mrs. Cake stood at the front, clutching the Cake Twins, who were in their own shock. Too young to understand what was happening, they were bawling as they watched their father take them away from their home. Mrs. Cake was working up a great effort to keep herself from crying again, but it was clear she felt as empty as Pinkie did. Pinkie sat there by the road, in utter silence. Mr. Cake was no longer wearing his apron and bowtie, which had been replaced by a formal and crisp military gray uniform. He stepped down as he boarded up the last window, slung his saddlebag over himself, and trotted sadly over to the still-stricken Pinkie.
“I’m sorry, Pinkie,” he said, at last. “Goodbye.”
Pinkie watched as they went up the road, leaving Ponyville for what felt like forever. Then they were gone, and a cold wind blew through the desolate bakery that had once been Pinkie’s home… Pinkie’s job… Pinkie’s life. She sat there and looked at it, in the vain hope that if she waited long enough, then she would get it all back.
Tap Tap Tap. Pinkie Pie knocked a hoof on the exterior of a large gate made entirely of crystal. She sat out there silently before the door opened, and Spike appeared from within.
“Oh! Hey, Pinkie.” he greeted before his expression shifted to wary concern. Pinkie did not look happy. “... Something wrong?”
Pinkie suddenly jerked as if she had realized something. She spoke sunkenly.
“Oh. Oh, nothing’s wrong, Spike. I just uh… can I talk to Twilight?”
Spike eyed her. She was acting more nervous and worrisome than usual. That was supposed to be Twilight’s department, not hers. Pinkie Pie was the silly, crazy one, wasn’t she?
“...Oooookay then.” Spike said carefully. “C’mon, Twilight’s in the library, I’ll take you over.”
Spike escorted Pinkie through the lavish hallways, and he noticed that she wasn’t bouncing. She still feigned the expression of happiness, but if she truly had, she would’ve been like a rabbit hopping across the way. This made him concerned.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Pinkie?” he asked. “You seem kinda… down.”
“Who, me?!” she said suddenly. “I’m fiiiine, Spike, really! You’ll uh… you’ll understand in a moment!”
She quickened her pace and went into the library. It was there that Twilight was reorganizing her bookshelf again.
“But if I put Equestria: A Military History in the Historical Section of the library, then-”
Spike cleared his throat loudly. Twilight spun around.
“Oh, hey Spike.” she said, before turning to Pinkie. “Hello, Pinkie.”
Spike gestured to Pinkie Pie, who again put on a smile, but it wasn’t very convincing.
“Pinkie needs to talk to you or somethin’,” he said, walking out of the room. “I’m gonna take a nap.”
As he was leaving he whispered something in Twilight’s ear, and she became uneasy. Once Spike was gone, that left the two of them there. Twilight approached Pinkie carefully.
“Pinkie? What is it you need to tell me?”
Pinkie tried to keep smiling… but it was too much. Her lip quivered.
“It’s fine! Everything’s fine… exc-except…”
She broke down.
“Except Sugarcube Corner closed down!” she wailed, sobbing at Twilight’s feet. “And I Mr. and Mrs. Cake moved out, too! They’re gone! They’re gone!”
Twilight was in shock at the sudden outburst. She had hardly known Pinkie to ever get sad… this sad.
“Oh, no… oh, no.” she said slowly. “Pinkie, I… I’m so sorry.”
She moved down and patted her friend as she cried and cried. Then Pinkie sniffled. She looked at Twilight, a mix of hope and despair.
“I was just-” she sniffled, “w-wondering if I could stay at your place… since I don’t have a home anymore.”
Twilight helped Pinkie up gently, looking her in the eyes with assurance.
“Pinkie, of course, you have a home here. Stay in the castle as long as you need, and as long as you want.”
Pinkie smiled weakly and wiped her muzzle.
“Thanks, Twilight. I’m sorry I bottled everything in, it’s just… it was so sad. I still don’t really know why it happened.”
Twilight made a face.
“It was the war preparations, wasn’t it?”
“How’d you guess?” Pinkie replied sunkenly.
“I… figured as much,” Twilight said, sighing with apprehension. “Look, talk to me if you ever need anything. The Castle is open to you, and if you ever need a home, then it’ll be there. Got that?”
Pinkie nodded again.
“Yeah… thanks, Twilight.”
Pinkie had managed to cheer up quite well in the coming days, although she was still a bit upset over it. Twilight noticed she didn’t bounce as much, so she tried to encourage her to throw parties and keep baking. Such an example was when she was talking to Pinkie in her new room.
“Come on, Pinkie!” Twilight said rousingly. “Who’s the partiest pony in all of Ponyville?”
Pinkie looked wistfully at Twilight.
“I am?”
“That’s right!” Twilight cried enthusiastically, “But I wanna hear it louder! Who is the partiest pony in all of Ponyville?!”
“I am.” Pinkie said flatly, but not phrased as a question.
“Who is?!” Twilight repeated.
“I am!” Pinkie said, louder, and standing up now.
“WHO IS?!” Twilight shouted at the top of her lungs.
“I AM!” Pinkie screamed back, her levels of partying-ness and pinkie-ness at max capacity. She ricocheted all over the room like a wayward bullet, reverberating with energy.
“And who does Ponyville need?!” Twilight asked, still rousing her.
“ME!” Pinkie answered enthusiastically, galloping out the door as a blur.
Pinkie threw 5 parties that day, and she kept on going, trying to keep everypony happy… but she couldn’t keep her record going forever. Twilight only had so many baking supplies left over, and while Equestria’s food stocks were amazingly high, much of those food stocks were now being sent to the war department. Soon Pinkie was running low on baking materials, and even worse, she was running low on ponies to throw parties for… most of them were leaving Ponyville to serve in the army or find new jobs, and the few that remained were bitter and sour over their lives. You see, it wasn’t just Sugarcube Corner that had closed… practically the entire market section of town was barren, and many of Ponyville’s houses had been boarded up.
On the bright but ominous side, there were a couple of factories nearby that provided the new economy for Ponyville, but they had none of the charm that the market stalls had once held.
“I’m sorry Pinkie, but I just don’t want a party right now!” Lyra had answered yesterday morning, slamming the door in her face.
Pinkie kept trying though until eventually, she realized at last what she needed to do. It was time to go home.
“Are you sure about this, Pinkie?”
“I’ve never been more sure in my life, Twilight.” Pinkie responded coolly. “It’s time I went back home.
“I know they’re your relatives…” Twilight said, grimacing. “But don’t you think you should stay here? I could… hold a party with you, maybe take you to Canterlot?”
“No way, Twilight!” Pinkie answered, though not rudely. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen all my sisters and my mom and dad! I’ve gotta go see how they’re doing.”
Twilight watched as she piled her things into a wagon. She sighed and moved closer.
“Just do me one favor, Pinkie.”
“Yeah?”
“Try to stay strong.”
Twilight seemed somber about something. What it was, Pinkie didn’t know… at least, not yet.
A short ride later, and that morning Pinkamena had arrived on the ol’ Pie Rock Farm with her things. She might’ve been so happy to be there, if it weren’t for a terrible sight she beheld, one that was so unhappily familiar. The farmhouse was boarded up, there was a wagon out front, and her mother and father were packing up their things with Marble Pie. The others seemed to be absent, but all Pinkie knew was that something bad was happening. Pinkie Pie hurried over, one thought blazing through her mind.
Not again.
“O-Oh. Pinkie, hi.” Marble managed, while their parents gave her a surprised glance. They didn’t say anything.
“Marble!” Pinkie greeted, squeezing her sister. “What’s going on?”
“Uh… I…”
Marble was usually silent, but today, she was unusually talkative. She laid her foreleg across her other and lowered her head shyly.
“We art moving.” said their father silently, with their mother nodding.
“We are moving.”
Pinkie tried to latch onto the potential positives of moving, rather than consider the alternative. She had just too much sadness in her life, she didn’t need more.
“Where? Are we going to visit Granny Pie? You don’t need all that stuff for a visit, silly!”
They all looked at each other, with a ‘how should we tell her’ expression.
“Pinkamena Diane Pie.” their mother began firmly. “We art nay longeth’r living in this lodging.”
“Pinkamena Diane Pie, we are no longer living in this place.”
“Rocketh farming hast becoming unsustainable,” their father added brusquely. “So we hir’d ourselves to a mining company. We art setting out anon f’r the w’rksite.”
“Rock farming has become unsustainable, so we hired ourselves to a mining company. We are setting out soon for the worksite.”
Pinkie felt her soul evaporate. Her smile remained there, but it became an ugly, pained expression. It was utterly forced.
“And… and where’s everypony else?” Pinke asked, in a small voice.
“Thy sist'rs has't enlisted, and art off to s'rve their state proudly.” Continued Pinkie’s father, as if he hadn’t noticed her expression. “Only Marble remains with us.”
“Your sisters have enlisted, and are off to serve their country proudly. Only Marble remains with us.”
Marble shied away from this as if it were an embarrassment made known. Pinkie’s ugly smile slipped away, replaced by a muted, feelingless expression.
“B-But… the farm?”
“We did sell the farm. We w’re running base on bits, and we did need the wage.” their mother said, a teense sorrowful. It hardly showed.
“We sold the farm. We were running low on bits, and we needed the money.”
“T… To who?” said Pinkie, whose voice was so sad it could hardly be heard.
“Hey hey, Pie family!” called the voice of a familiar sales-stallion.
A horrible tractor that snorted smoke came riding over, with the infamous Flim and Flam riding atop, gregarious smiles on their faces. Flim leered over at them.
“Thanks again for selling us this juicy piece of land, here, folks! This wasteland and your hovel will soon be the site of the Flim & Flam brother's newest arms factory!”
“Yes indeed, brother!” added Flam. “Here we’ll be able to produce twice the number of rifles needed for the war effort! With this, our pockets will surely be filled by the princess’s unending flow of bits!”
Pinkie felt a fit of rising anger inside of her, but her parents had a keen eye for her emotions. They stuck out their hooves in front of Pinkie, while the brothers rode off to survey their new territory.
“Doth not beest fell, Pinkamena.” said her father. “We hath chosen to selleth the farm, we w’re not f’rc’d. Those gents off’r’d the highest bid f’r our landeth, and we gaveth t to those folk. T wouldst not beest prudent to seeketh a square with those folk.”
“Do not be angry, Pinkamena. We chose to sell our farm, we were not forced. They offered the highest bid for our land, and we gave it to them. It would not be prudent to seek a fight with them.”
As much as Pinkie was getting agitated, her father was right. Fighting the Flim-Flam brothers because they bought her family farm, especially after her family had willingly decided to sell it, would be childish of her. All that escaped her was a sad sigh. Her parents looked at her.
“Beest not depress’d, Pinkamena. We shall giveth thee our new addresseth, and if’t be true thee wisheth to accompany us, then thee can.”
“Don't be sad, Pinkamena. We will give you our new address, and if you wish to accompany us, then you can.”
Pinkie looked at the farm she had been raised on. This, too, had slipped right through her hooves. Her old life was gone, her older life was gone, and that only left a hollow future. Pinkie almost felt like she should follow them… but then she remembered her friends and Twilight. She had come to the rock farm to stay with her family, but now they too were broken, and there was no point. She mounted up her remaining courage.
“I can’t. I’m… I’m sorry.”
Her parents nodded, completely accepting, and trotted over to the wagon. She watched as her sister gave her one final look of silent grief.
“Goodbye.” Marble said, her voice quiet but full of sorrow as she and her parents loaded up.
Her mother said nothing, but her father gazed at her. She felt like she could feel something from him she hadn’t felt before, for he had always been a proud and strong stallion. He looked as conflicted as a member of the Pie family could be, which was both very much and not at all.
“I am deeply sorrowful, Pinkamena. Farewell.”
A single tear dropped from his left eye, but his face did not change its expression. The tear fell into the dust and faded from sight. Then the wagon was hitched up, and the three of them left the farm and Pinkamena behind.
Pinkie had returned to Twilight’s understanding gaze. She had known the whole time, and she had tried to steer Pinkie away. Pinkie shut herself in her room and did not come out. She felt like she was empty… that she had no purpose… that she’d never feel anything again. Her hair bubble was popped by this time, and it seemed as if it would never inflate again.
Then, after what felt like a thousand years of isolation, Twilight Sparkle knocked on Pinkie’s door.
“Pinkie?” she called quietly. “I need to talk to you.”
“Pinkie’s not here right now.” a voice replied tonelessly. “Go away.”
Twilight’s brow furrowed.
“Pinkie, if you don’t let me in, I’m going to burst the door open.”
“Just try it!” The voice spat back, fierce and standoffish. “I’ve got nothing to lose, anyhow!”
There was a short moment of silence like she’d had a momentary brainfart of some sort, then she continued.
“You’ll have to force me out!”
“Fine!” replied Twilight, annoyed. “Stand back!”
With a bright charge of energy from her horn, the double doors to Pinkie’s room were thrust open with a flash and a crash. Inside, the room was completely dark, and the curtains were drawn. Gummy stood in a corner, with a rag set over him to guise him as if he were an old piece of furniture. The party cannon lay dismantled, the bed torn asunder, and a very resentful Pinkie Pie staring bullets at Twilight.
“Pinkie, you have to come out of your room,” Twilight told her. “You’ve been in there for a week, and I can’t keep teleporting food in for you!”
“No!” Pinkie refuted. “There’s nothing out there for me anymore! No parties, no baking, no Pie family!”
Twilight groaned a little, but she heard hoofsteps behind her. A figure stood beside her in the doorway.
“Are you sure you truly believe those words, Pinkamena?” said the figure.
Pinkamena looked at the radiant form of Princess Celestia, who stood there, a firm smile on her pony. Pinkamena gaped before she turned angry again.
“Who invited you, Princess?!”
“A Princess invites herself,” Celestia replied calmly. “Considering what you’ve been up to, I think it is very wise that I did so. Twilight’s told me about your hard times as of late.”
“Oh, yeah?!” Pinkie spat back. “What’s it to you, huh?! Last I heard, you can’t exactly friendship-magic away this problem!”
Princess Celestia sighed.
“Pinkamena Pie, I cannot fix your dilemma. The functions of Equestria are far outside my complete control, and manipulating them would be dross. I can, however, offer you a new outlet.”
Princess Celestia unfurled a piece of paper, levitating it over to Pinkie.
“I need competent Ponies to help defend Equestria, and you have proven yourself skillful enough. The Pie family has always been industrious and hard-working, your sisters especially. I am here to offer you enlistment into the service.”
Pinkamena was a bit surprised, but only for a moment. She pouted miserably and crossed her forelegs in a huff.
“Why do you need me for your crummy army, anyway?”
“Because even despite the shutdown of your previous occupation, your home, and your family business, you are strong and capable. We need you.”
Pinkie turned away, not even reciprocating a gaze with the Princess. The Princess gave a bit of a grimace.
“Pinkie.” she asked now, “Do you want to end this war?”
The war. The war. The war had been the thing that had destroyed her life, taken everything away from her, and left her feeling empty and hopeless. If the war ended, then things would go back to normal, wouldn’t they? The farm, Sugarcube Corner, her life… all of it.
“Of course,” she said, without venom, in a sulky way. “I really, really want it to end.”
“You would want it to end as soon as possible, so that things could resume normalcy, correct?”
Pinkamena nodded her head, her limp hair bubble shifting with it.
“Yeah.” she said, a little less angry this time.
“Then I trust you know what to do. If you join, then you can help bring an end to this conflict, and you can ensure nothing like it ever has to happen again.”
Pinkamena realized the extent of this offer. If she took this job, then she could end things for good, and that was great right?
And then, you could meet lots of new friends! Said a familiar inner voice. You could see Maud and Limestone, too! Plus, you would get to visit lots of super-duper fun places!
That was the deal-maker for her. She realized she could be so much happier, that she was so much happier knowing this, and at that moment there was a blast like a confetti cannon. Pinkie Pie leaped into the air, recharged and ready for her brand-new mission.
“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll do it, Princess! I’ll serve Equestria, and I’ll help stop this war so everything can go back to normal so I can see Maud and Limestone again!”
Princess Celestia smiled cooly, and the darkened room seemed to brighten.
“That indeed. You’re not going to be a footsoldier, though, Pinkie. I have a special position for you.”
“Huh?”
General Pinkamena Diane Pie of the Royal Equestrian Army stood surveying a large field. They were right on the frontline, out near Tall Tale, where it was much colder than down south. The Changelings had been amassing their forces, and any day now they would march on Equestria. Their supply was running low, and they could not stay this close to Equestria without lashing out at their collective love. Without a doubt, they would be coming for her, not the other way around.
“Major General Pinkie!” cried a stallion.
He was a courier, carrying a telegram. Pinkie turned about to look at him cheerily.
“Yepper?”
“We’ve just received word that another brigade is linking up to join in the defense! They’ll be arriving here soon.”
“Great news! Did you send the broadcasting team that response I drafted for the Changeling Commander’s ultimatum?”
The courier’s eyes flickered. His teeth gritted nervously, and his hoof scraped the ground.
‘ “Uh, yes, ma’am.”
“Good job! Head down to the barracks, you’ve earned it, Surehoof!”
“Thank you, ma’am!” said the courier, as he departed from her presence.
By about 1700 hours, the new brigade had arrived: several fresh recruits, prepared and ready to engage the Changeling menace. Pinkamena waited inside her tent to meet with the Colonel leading the detachment. When the flap opened, she was surprised to see…
…Cheese Sandwich.
“Colonel Cheese Sandwich, actually.” he said kindly, tipping the brim of his officer’s cap. “It’s great to see you again, Pinkie, or should I say, General Pinkie?”
“Cheese!” Pinkie clamored, getting off of her chair. “I haven’t seen you in ages! You joined the army?”
“What else? Didn’t exactly have much of anywhere to go.”
The two of them laughed together like old times. Pinkie beckoned him, and they sat down, sharing a flask of water. Pinkie had formed a new life for herself in the military, and while it wasn’t exactly glamorous, she got to meet new ponies all the time, and that was enough of a party in and of itself. But like everything else, the past had to come up sometime.
“Do you remember when we were party planners?” Cheese Sandwich asked her solemnly.
She could only wonder if she had gotten what she’d truly bargained for in the end.