//------------------------------// // A Study on the Prophetic Effects of… // Story: Madame Pinkie Pie's Project // by Ghost Mike //------------------------------// “Isn’t this exciting, Spike?” Twilight skipped into the Ponyville Schoolhouse. “Young minds bursting with creativity, ready to show their intellect to the wider world!” “Intellect.” Spike’s eyes lingered on Snips and Snails straining to remove green goo from a placard reading ‘Does Slime Make Plants Grow?’ “Right.” Spike’s belly chose then to grumble loudly. Affixing Twilight with his widest eyes, he grinned. “Say, since we skipped breakfast –” “You hungry?” Like a hoof to a harp, Lyra was beside Spike. “How’s about some gem-sprinkled cupcakes? My treat!” Leg around him, she steered him away, though Spike didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. Too used to Ponyville ponies’ eccentricities to worry, Twilight took in the projects. Next to Twist’s study on sweets coated with donut powder, Filthy Rich’s butler was setting up a diamond worth display while Diamond Tiara lounged. Her mouth tightening, Twilight scanned past Pinkie, stopping on Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie’s tray of snails underneath ‘Do Gastropods Like Poetry?’ – “What the –” Certain her eyes were deceiving her, Twilight approached. Sure enough, there was Pinkie, display board and all. “Oh, hey Twilight!” Pinkie looked up, unperturbed by Twilight’s stammering. “Knew you wouldn’t miss this!” “But – Pinkie, what are you doing? You can’t compete! Science Fairs are for pupils! Foals!” For a moment, Pinkie was uncharacteristically quiet. Then, she burst out laughing. Twilight’s brow dropped, waiting to lay down the case. Right as Pinkie’s laughter faded, she perked up. “Oh! Of course, you only just moved here, you wouldn’t know!” With undue speed, she pulled a book from her mane, flipping it open and shoving it under Twilight’s muzzle. Frowning, Twilight started reading. “‘Olive Orange. One of the brightest young minds of his generation. After a unicorn circus mishap turned him into a stallion, there wasn’t time to reverse-engineer the age spell. But as he’d toiled away on his project for weeks, the Ponyville Science Fair committee extended the age limit.’” Dimly aware of returning the rulebook, Twilight took in Pinkie’s unwavering smile. “And… this stuck?” “Yep!” Pinkie gently steered Twilight’s head. “And it’s not just me!” Twilight couldn’t deny this. Next to Applejack and Carrot Top’s competing harvesting projects, Rarity had a silk soother, while Roseluck, Daisy and Lily had ‘Allergy-Nullifying Flower Recipes’. Still processing all this, Twilight slowly looked up to Pinkie’s display. ‘A Study on the Prophetic Effects of Birthmarks as They Relate to a Pony’s Destiny. By Madame Pinkie Pie’. “Well?” Pinkie’s grin stretched wide enough to burst. “What do you think? I got the idea after we found out we got our cutie marks from Dashie’s first Sonic Rainboom! Rarity helped with the title.” Throat still wobbling, Twilight scanned the reports. Surprisingly, they were comprehensive, covering events Pinkie had told of her passing interest in baking and partying prior to getting her mark, and some Twilight hadn’t heard. “Well… you’ve certainly worked hard on this,” Twilight said finally. “If you don’t mind me asking, what birthmark is this?” “Course you can, silly!” Pinkie giggled. “Can’t have science without evidence! It’s on my scalp.” “…Your scalp?” Time seemed to slow as memories Twilight would have rather forgotten resurfaced. “That wouldn’t be the one you showed me while we studied your Pinkie Sense, would it?” “The very same!” Pinkie leaned back against her display, sporting a petite smug smile. “Impressive, no?” “Pinkie!” A few passing ponies stopped and stared, but Twilight didn’t care. How foolish could Pinkie be, to come up with a borderline-revolutionary idea, and then squander it on artistic opinion? “I told you before, it doesn’t resemble –” “Miss Pie.” Registering the voice, Twilight stepped back. Cheerilee approached, two ponies flanking her. “We’ve finished examining your birthmark.” One judge hoofed over a photo, which Pinkie swiftly affirmed to her display. “See Pinkie, even they disagree.” This time, Twilight kept her voice level. “It just does not look like a cockatrice serving cupcakes!” “Oh no, we agree it does.” Struck dumb by Cheerilee’s remark, Twilight saw the other judges nodding along. “That’s enough of a connection.” “But, but…” Still refusing to believe this was real, Twilight whipped around. “Explain the cockatrice, then!” “Eh.” Without missing a beat, Pinkie tapped another photo showing cupcakes decorated with animal-shaped icing. “I like getting creative.” “However,” continued Cheerilee, “while you do serve cupcakes, that’s merely a side effect of your talent as a party pony. Too tangential to form a closed case from one sample.” Verdict given, the other judges left. “Don’t worry, Pinkie.” Smiling, Cheerilee leaned in. “Between you and me, yours is the best adult project so far.” She trotted off, leaving Twilight and Pinkie alone. After what seemed an age, Twilight turned. “Pinkie, I… I’m sorry. Who am I to say what a cutie mark, or a birthmark, looks like?” “Aw, it’s okay.” Pinkie nudged Twilight’s side playfully, eliciting a giggle. “It was worth it just to relive old memories in a new light! Besides, they always judge us harsher than the schoolponies.” “Oh?” Twilight felt a weight leave her chest. If they were evaluated on different criteria, she supposed letting grown ponies compete wasn’t so bad, odd historical holdover be darned. “Hey Pinkie.” Spike walked up, pulling a cart loaded with cupcakes. “Cool project! Beats Lyra’s, anyway – she needed a comparison for her ‘Dexterial Fingered Glove’. Like redoing data this late will work out.” Swallowing, Spike grinned, gem fragments wedged in his teeth. “And that’s one of the better ones. Get a load of this!” Following his gaze, Twilight saw the judges clustered by an enlarged muffin. A brightly-glowing bulb protruded from its top. Standing nearby, a gray pegasus smiled sheepishly, though neither Cheerilee nor the others matched it. “Really, Derpy?” Cheerilee’s usual sunny demeanor was absent as she leveled an unimpressed look. “You made a muffin lamp last year!” Derpy chuckled meekly, gesturing to the muffin. “But this one’s blueberry!” Cheerilee looked to her companions, all equally unamused. Shaking her head, she whipped out a rubber stamp. “Dis…quali…fied.” Puncturing the verdict, she trotted off, leaving Derpy to wilt down.