Dash left me down in the dumps. Lunch wouldn’t fix that, but I was hungry, so I started to look around for something to eat. Immediately, I found a produce cart, which would be as good a meal as any—heading out of town to hunt would’ve taken too long.
I also saw an elderly earth pony, and instantly, I knew what else I could do to improve my mood. Maybe it was Dash’s pranking from earlier that morning, maybe it was because I knew the old pony would be an easy target, but I was overcome by how funny it’d be if I scared her. And I did need a mood boost after how crappy my morning had been.
With one eye on the older mare, I slunk over to the the produce cart, hunkered down, and poked my tail up where she could see it. Ponies were always freaked out by my tail when they saw how much dexterity it had, and that old mare was no different. I heard a shrill, fearful scream: “A rattler! A rattler! Run for the hills! Everybody, forsake yourselves!”
I stuck my head up over the produce to see the fruits of my prank. By her frantic leg movements, I could tell the green mare was “running,” but I could walk faster on Farrington’s roads. Backwards. I smiled at her efforts. Dash was right: pranks were funny.
The produce salespony glared at me, clearly not as amused as I was. I glared right back at her and poked a tomato with my tail. “This stuff ain’t fresh, dude.”
We continued our glare-off until I turned to leave. Then, she accused, “What’ve you got against Granny Smith?”
I rounded back on her, and she flinched. “Nothing...” I glanced at the barrel of red apples. “But those aren’t Granny Smiths, dude. I know that.” She scowled, but before she could say anything, I remembered lunch and asked, “How much are they, even?”
“Two bits each, and leave,” the vendor spat back.
Smiling at her bitterness, I responded, “You ever think of working at a post office?”
Her scowl twisted, and some of the fun was lost because she had no idea what I was talking about. I reached to my chest feathers and grabbed my... nothing. Damn! I yelled in my head. In my hurry to finally leave on Saturday morning, I had left my coin sack behind. Good one! I chided myself.
As much as I hated to lose a glaring contest a bitchy vendor, I turned to leave.
Then, in one spiteful motion, I snaked my tail into the basket, grabbed an apple, and whipped it into my mouth. Sure, it was hardcore stealing, I didn’t care. First off, she needed to learn to watch her mouth around customers; secondly, it was food, and I was hungry. It wasn’t like I was taking something I didn’t need.
A moment later, I swallowed my sweet victory and realized that I was walking with my eyes closed. When I opened them, a light-yellow pegasus with pink hair was walking right for me—backwards. I seethed, What kind of moron walks in a busy street without even watching where she’s going? She was guiding a family of ducks through the street, but that was just stupid; why even bring them into a city where they could get stepped on or—
The careless pegasus slammed right into my chest scars. They were as healed as they were ever going to be, but they were still kind of tender. I tried to hide a grunt by shouting, “Hey!”
“Please excuse me,” the pegasus replied meekly.
It made me shout even louder, “I’m walking here!”
“Oh, um, I'm sorry. I-I-I was just trying to...” she stammered, backing away from me.
I stepped forward, mocking, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Her stupid family of ducks scattered; the animal-loving wimp was lucky I left birds alone as a rule. “Why don’t you just watch where you’re going, doofus?”
“B-b-b-but I... I...” she stammered.
Something snapped. It was her own fault she was getting confronted, and now, she was cowering at me? If she wanted something to be afraid of...
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and roared.
Adult griffins’ roars could intimidate all but the deadliest of foes, so late-adolescent me was easily good enough to startle a wimpy yellow pegasus. Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, she was shaking in place with fear.
I hated everything about her. She was too light-colored. Her voice was too soft. On top of everything, she was blubbering like a baby after she rammed into me.
Her eyes started welling up with tears. She took a few quick breaths, which were as soft and weak as her voice. Her mouth stretched downward, widening her eyes; finally, the dam burst and she turned to run away, sobbing.
As she took off flying, I only felt disgust. Where’d she even get a pair of wings? She’s a disgrace to all pegasi with an attitude like th—
Suddenly, I remembered where I had heard those words before: three years ago. My breath caught in my chest. Moments later, when she stumbled mid-flight, I couldn’t help but think it was from injuries I had given her for being “unworthy.”
Suddenly, I wanted to run away, too.
All the nearby ponies were staring at me with shock, anger, or fear. Whatever shame I felt evaporated as I wondered, What the hell is wrong with you ponies? All I ever want is to mind my own damn business. All I ever get is the freak-show treatment!
I scoffed and threw their prejudice right back at them. “Please, all these lame ponies are driving me buggy. I gotta bail!” And I did just that; flying off, hating them all.
They didn’t know half of what I had done wrong.
* * *
A few minutes later, I was laying on a low-floating cloud and panicking. If Dash had seen me doing that—I shook the thought out of my head. She was my only friend; if that changed... I shook my head again. I didn’t want to think about that, either.
I tried emptying my mind to get a fresh start on thinking. No matter how hard I tried, the same image popped up: a yellow pegasus breaking down crying from of what I did to her. The more I tried to stop it, the more vivid and clear it became. That vicious cycle continued until finally, the scene replayed in my mind one more time.
Except this time, we were on a ledge sticking out from an extinct volcano.
The yellow pegasus turned on me and defended herself, “So what if I made a friend? You’re the one who sent me to that stupid camp in the first place!”
“I did not send you to wallow with the Beute to become one!” It was humiliating to see that, without my supervision, she sought to be like the lesser beings, both in undisciplined actions... and color. “If you had but a tenth of the talent of Gerard, you would not need help to be able to fly in a manner that is not a complete embarrassment to our race!”
“Yeah? Well, Dash could fly circles around pretty-boy Ger—”
I balled my hand into a fist and brought it across her eye before she could finish disgracing my son with her insolent tongue. “You burden my mind with your incompetence, and now you taint my ears by giving a name to your precious friend who, despite being physically inferior to you, still managed to humiliate you in every possible way!” Despite everything I had taught her—years of lessons wasted—she had still allowed herself to be bested in every round of competition by one of the Beute.
“B-but she... I...” I seethed as I watched the yellow pegasus begin to cry. How disappointing. I thought that she had perhaps been expressing anger to defend herself, but now I saw her cowardice for what it was.
“Such weakness!” I bellowed. “From where did you even manage to get a pair of wings? You disgrace your entire race with cowardice! Griffins are supposed to have dignity, which you clearly lack, because here you are, blubbering in front of me like a cub! Count yourself lucky that my father is no longer alive to see what weakness this line has come to; unlike me, he lacked the mercy to abstain from culling it!”
I jerked awake. I opened my mouth to scream, but I heaved, and everything I had eaten that morning came back up. Absently, I hoped no one was directly beneath my cloud. When I finished, the bitter, apple-y zest in my mouth almost got me started again, but I forced it back down so I could ask:
What. The hell. Was that?
By the fact that I had woken up, I knew I must’ve fallen asleep. Despite it being high noon. With the sun overhead. When I needed near-pitch darkness to sleep.
More disturbing than how I fell asleep, though, was what I had dreamed. I tried to get a grip on my thoughts, but it was like swimming against a current. Memories flowed over me, but I bowed my head defiantly and gasped deep breaths, trying to force them away.
I didn’t want to think about that day—not today. I didn’t want to think about how much I hated the coward from that dream for being too weak to stand up for her only friend. I didn’t want to think about how that conversation had ended with her as a broken, bloody mess. I didn’t want to think about how she deserved it.
Most of all, I didn’t want to think about how I could relate to every single line of Father’s reasoning as he had stood there, berating me.
Tears stung my eyes as I dry-heaved, trying to force a sob down. It was a losing battle, trying to keep myself together; hell, this entire trip had been a mistake. Every wound from my past kept getting torn back open. I dissolved into tears, even as I hated myself for it. As much as I tried to force myself to stop, as much as I reminded myself that Dash would be looking for me by now... I didn’t care.
Memories rushed by in vivid detail: Being left out of games because I was “bad luck.” Having to sleep outside for a week after Gregor lied about me waking him up. That damn lurch, every time Father swooped down to drag me off to a “lesson.”
All those images flashed before my eyes, and I just lay there, crying. Pathetically.
* * *
When I finally got it together and blinked my eyes clear, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I stood up and, through bright little pinpricks of light, I scanned the ground for water. I was thirsty, and I probably needed a quick refresher. I spotted a lake and flew over to it.
When I was over the water, I shut my eyes and dove. In pitch-black darkness, I had no weight. Pressure on my skin told me the water was getting closer, but I didn’t open my eyes. I just took a deep breath, anticipating the plunge.
Liquid silence enveloped me. Only when I was underwater did I re-open my eyes. Hundreds of little minnows were darting away in a panic, but the rocks and weeds flowed gently with the currents. It was silent. It was peaceful.
I wanted to stay there forever.
My lungs protested, which snapped me to my senses; I kicked off the bottom of the lake and swam back up to the surface. After a deep breath, I paddled back to shore and climbed out. Despite being soaked and the dull ache in my neck, I felt better.
Instead of shaking off the water, I flipped over and lay on my back. The sun felt warm on my stomach. I closed my eyes and tried to take in the sounds around me. Unlike the Jägerwald, the plains around Ponyville were quiet and soothing. I took a deep breath, smelling the lake even as I heard it lapping on the shore. I could see why ponies lived near here; it was quiet and p—
“There you are!” I opened my eyes; Dash was hovering above me.
I smiled up at her. “Hey, dude. What took you?” My words felt thick.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She threw her hooves out in front of her. “I thought I said to stay in town!”
Crap. That had been... twenty minutes? two hours ago? “I, uh... crap, I forgot about that.” That was true, but I buried it in a too-easy lie: “I got bored, so I had to stretch my wings. Sorry.”
She shrugged. “Well, whatever.” Her tone lightened as she smiled and continued, “I wanted to come tell you about your party!”
The peace I had found dried up, leaving my gut an empty shell. I remembered the “parties” at Junior Speesdters’—loud, stupid things. I rolled over and stood up, trying to ignore the sand caked onto my butt. “The what now?”
“Pinkie Pie is throwing you a party in order to introduce you to everypony!”
You should leave. Now! I shouted at myself. I was too stupid to listen. “P...Pinkie Pie?”
“Yeah.” Dash nodded. “I know she’s annoying sometimes, but she throws the best parties! Lighten up, G—it’ll be fun! Anyway, it’s going to be at Sugarcube Corner in a half hour, so, uh... I guess... keep doing what you were doing?”
“Aren’t you gonna hang out?” I tried to keep the pleading out of my voice.
“Nah... I gotta help get it ready! We’ll hang out at the party, though. Promise!” I nodded, and Dash pointed sheepishly at me. “Just, uh... you’ve got sand on your... everything.”
I heard the embarrassed tone, so I rolled my eyes. “I’ll clean up.”
With one last nod and a wave, Dash flew back off, leaving me alone with my doubts. I lay back down and looked up at the sky. My escape route. There was nothing I could gain from staying. Except for why you came here in the first place, I reminded myself. I’d have to go to that party—that, or explain everything in a letter. If I took that route, she’d be guaranteed to never speak to me again.
After the party, then, I’d find some alone time with Dash. And I’d tell her everything; no more lies, no more screwing around. I’d start with the scars, then move on to Father’s decree, then explain why I wasn’t going to follow through on it.
I closed my eyes and tried to find peace. For all I knew, it’d be a long time before I found it again.
* * *
Sugarcube Corner wasn’t hard to find; it looked like a giant candy house.
Inside, things were much saner, even considering the party—my party decorations. At least the tables didn’t look like giant doughnuts.
“Gilda!” someone pink and loud yelled before landing in front of me. “I'm so honored to throw you one of my signature Pinkie Pie parties!” She leaned in too close to my face, but I was more bugged by what she said. A Pinkie Pie party? What is that, some sort of dweeby name-brand now? I didn’t say it, though; Dash might be watching.
As soon as I thought of Dash, I wondered where she was. I hadn’t seen her since her hasty warning of “There’s a party.” Looking around the room, I couldn’t find her; worse, I didn’t know anyone else there.
Except for Pinkie Pie, of course. I came back to her stupid rant at, “—you feel welcome here, amongst all of us pony folk!” I didn’t trust any sort of welcome she was giving, but I knew what her now-extended hoof meant. Even as I glared at her, I wanted to believe it was a symbol of a fresh start. Maybe there was something under her bubbly surface; maybe Dash was friends with that.
At the same time, Father taught me better than to expect the best from others.
Still, I went along with the hoofshake; the worst that could happen was that it was some sort of—
Pain.
I stood there, stunned into immobility as sharp pain seared up my arm, into my chest. Even worse, I couldn’t move my arm to escape; Pinkie Pie had stuck me there like that!
As quickly as it hit me, the pain ended. I collapsed. For all the types of pain Father had ever taught me, nothing prepared me for that sizzling paralysis. After the shock wore off, I had to admit it wasn’t the worst pain I had ever felt, and I was still alive. That counted for a little.
Above me, Pinkie Pie was laughing over what she had done.
Arschloch!
Anger and adrenaline screamed through me as I stood back up. She thought that was funny? I’d show her “funny.” My front arms looked thin, but they were a lot stronger than they looked. And despite his cruel tactics, Father had taught me how to harness that power. It would be easy to tear Pinkie’s front leg out of its socket.
It would be a good lesson, too: she wouldn’t die, nor would it be entirely permanent—she could still walk with three legs. Maybe next time, she’d think twice about tricking strangers with offers of “friendship” that were really just “pain.”
A familiar laugh stopped me before I could deal out justice. Dash walked over to us and my anger rushed away. At least, it fell second to a sense of betrayal: She was laughing?
“Oh Pinkie Pie, the old hoofshake buzzer. You are a scream!” Dash congratulated her.
Suddenly, it dawned on me: hoofshake buzzer. Ponies’ hooves were made of a thick, bony stuff; it was a lot thicker than my hands’ skin. Whatever I had been hit with had probably been made for ponies, not griffins, so it probably needed more strength to get through.
Still, it was still a cruel twist on a friendly gesture. But Dash thought it was funny, so I had to pretend it was funny, too. “Yeah.” I couldn’t fake a laugh, so I just continued flatly, “Good one, Pinkie Pie.”
“Come on, G. I’ll introduce you to some of my other friends!” Dash called.
“Right behind you, Dash!” I called out. Anyone was better than Pinkie Pie. With that in mind, I turned to her; gone were my earlier thoughts of friendship—and tolerance. Now, there was only loathing. If she thought her plan to use the party to torture me was even the least bit subtle, she had another thing coming. I warned her, “I know what you’re up to!”
“Great!” she said with a smile. She played dumb very well.
Just to be sure, I repeated, “I know what you’re planning.”
She laughed and said, “Well I hope so,” rolling her eyes. “This wasn’t supposed to be a surprise party!”
Maybe she really thought I was talking about the party. Just to be sure, I ramped up the intimidation: “I mean, I’ve got my eye on you.”
She got very close to my face and replied, “And I’ve got my eye on you!”
Despite everything biology told me about who’d win in a fight, her threat reminded me that I was in her territory now. Slowly, I walked away and over to Dash, wondering what, exactly, Pinkie Pie’s threat had meant.
When I caught up to her on the other side of the room, Dash gestured to an orange earth pony. “Okay! First up, Gilda, this is my friend Applejack. She’s pretty cool. Not only does she grow all the apples we eat in Ponyville, but she’s a pretty good athlete, too!”
“Gosh, Rainbow...” Applejack’s accent stretched out the “Rain” part. “I told you: don’t go spinnin’ yarns about the goin’-ons of Sweet Apple Acres!” Then, she turned to me with a welcoming smile. When she offered me her hoof, I took it, and there was nothing fake about that hoofshake.
“But aside from Dash’s tall tales, how d’ya do, Gilda?” I couldn’t get in an answer before she went on, “We don’t get a lot of griffins out in these parts no more, but my great-great-grandpappy used to have all sorts of dealin’s with them ones out east. That ring a bell?”
I beamed; the Grossfeder tribe lived far out on the eastern coast. Their solution to our race’s looming extinction was to compromise our culture by merging with Equestria’s. I didn’t find it too hard to believe that they would buy apples from Ponyville. Still, it wasn’t hard to be honest with Applejack for some reason: “Not really, no.”
That made me think back to when I was ten, and my Uncle Wallace had gotten into a huge fight with Father. Once it escalated to bare talons, my uncle flew off, and Father yelled something after him about insufferable cowardice and to never return.
I missed Uncle Wally.
With a quick sigh, I continued, “I have an uncle who lives there. But we didn’t see him a lot.”
“Haha, a black sheep; I know what that’s like.” Applejack nodded, and my attention snapped back to her. “Some of my relatives on my mama’s side went south to grow oranges a few generations back, of all the darndest...”
A very well-maintained white unicorn walked over and interrupted, “Excuse me, dear Applejack, but not all of us have been introduced to the guest of honor!” Her speech and mannerisms were a pony version of the Grossfeder, which made me do a mental double-take.
“I am Rarity.” She took a step forward and extended a drooping hoof. I tapped it with my fist, which caused an awkward pause before she chuckled and went on, “Might I be the first to compliment you on your plumage! Your feathers are simply marvelous; it’s a shame they appear so rough and unkempt.”
I blinked. Every griffin’s feathers had unique patterns in them, so I would’ve liked the compliment if it weren’t for being called unkempt. “Uhh...” I tried to remember the Grossfeder word... “Ef...xaristo?”
She stared back at me with blank, confused eyes. Dash came to my rescue by pulling me across the room. “Anyway...” She led me to a purple unicorn with an indigo mane. “This is Twilight Sparkle,” Dash introduced. “She’s the ‘me’ of magic!”
Twilight Sparkle raised an eyebrow at Dash; I wondered if she realized how big of a compliment that was. “Thanks, Rainbow,” she said flatly, “but I’m nothing special.” Turning to me, she offered a hoof, and I shook it. Her face brightened. “If you really want an expert in magic, you should see what Princess Celestia can do!”
I dropped her hoof and my beak fell open. “I... uh... no!”
Princess Celestia was a controversial figure among the three living griffin tribes. The Grossfeder paid taxes to her, the Sterkergeist worshipped her, and the Sharfkral remembered the slaughter of the Schnelfluge.
Roughly three hundred years into our race’s population decline, the Schnelfluge tribe found themselves in a bind: they had hunted their canyon bare. For a quick fix, they got a brilliant idea to start raiding a nearby pony city. It started with livestock; then, it escalated to the ponies themselves.
That did not last long. After a fair warning—or some warning, or no warning, depending on whose story was accurate—Celestia visited the Schnelfluge. Early that morning, the tribe had counted for roughly a third of the total griffin population.
By noon, the only Schnelfluge that remained were Celestia’s chosen messengers to the other three tribes.
Anyway, I really hoped that Dash’s friend didn’t know what she just said; I preferred ignorance to being mocked over extermination.
I realized that I was still gawking at Twilight. Her ears drooped. I found my tongue and tried to fix my shocked outburst: “I mean, uh, no... thanks?”
The damage was already done.
Dash didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but once again, she shuttled me across the room. My mind was two centuries in the past, so I didn’t hear much of what she was talking about before I heard, “my oldest friend, Fluttershy!”
My mind snapped into the present as my stomach lurched. In front of me was the yellow pegasus pony from earlier. I panicked—hell, I recognized her, from some of Dash’s stories. Of all the ponies to scare...
Fluttershy took one look at me and cowered back, whimpering. That bugged me. Yeah this afternoon had been a mistake. But if she were still scared, that wasn’t my fault.
“Aww... Fluttershy...” Dash wiped her nose bridge with a frustrated hoof.
I seized the opportunity: “Dash, it’s fine... I’m used to it.” After I said it, Fluttershy glared at me for a split-second. I met her gaze, and she cringed her eyes back shut.
Dash put her hoof down and turned to me. “No, G, it’s not that, it’s just...”
I never found out what “it” just was. At that exact moment, Pinkie Pie decided to continue her regime as hostess. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Gilda, a long-time dear friend of Rainbow Dash!”
As everyone turned to stare at me, Pinkie added a new level of awkward to the situation by jumping over and hugging me. It happened fast. I didn’t know her that well. I did not like what parts of her I did know. Why was she doing this?
“Let's honor her and welcome her to Ponyville!” She finally let go, and I glared at her in defense of my personal space.
The room cried out, “Yay, Gilda!” I turned back to their stares. Remember Dash, I told myself as I forced a smile. Dash came over and put her hoof around me; that made it better.
“Please, help yourself!” Pinkie Pie gesturing towards the food. I remembered her hoofshake buzzer from earlier, but even I thought that was paranoid. She couldn’t have tampered with all of the food.
I hoped.
One of the bowls looked like some of the candy Dash had offered at Junior Speedsters’. They tasted good, but after my first time trying them, I had definitely regretted eating ten of them at once. Still, one wouldn’t hurt. “Vanilla lemon drops? Don’t mind if I do.”
As soon as I crushed it in my mouth, I regretted taking up Pinkie Pie on an offer of “hospitality.” Instead of lemon-and-vanilla flavored jelly, the candy I ate had been filled with some sort of burning liquid! The fire spread to the back of my throat, and all I could do was yell, “Hot!”
I glanced around desperately and met Dash’s eyes. “G! The punch!” She pointed across the room to a bowl. I ran over, grabbed a glass, and tipped it into my mouth.
Instead of cool relief, I felt something splashing on my chest. “Huh?”
“Well, what do you know?” Pinkie Pie gloated. “Pepper in the vanilla lemon drops, and the punch served in a dribble glass!”
Dash interrupted any rage I had with, “Ha! Priceless. Priceless!” It felt like something in my gut cracked. The words stung worse than the fire in my mouth; unlike the hoofshake buzzer, I couldn’t think of how acid candy wasn’t supposed to be painful.
Yet there Dash stood, laughing at me.
The fire in my mouth rekindled, pushing away my thoughts of betrayal. I saw someone’s unattended glass, but it looked used, so I took it drained it one gulp. The sugary drink didn’t cure my mouth completely; it was just stinging when I sneered, “Yeah. Hilarious,” at Dash.
She shot me what looked like an apologetic glance. Before I could decide whether I forgave her or not, Dash pointed to the pile of colored boxes she was standing next to. “Hey, G, look! Presents!”
My anger melted away: Dash got me something? I walked over, curious as to what it’d be—it probably wouldn’t be useful, but it’d still be fun to see what Dash thought I liked. I grabbed one carefully pulled the ribbon off with my beak.
It exploded, sending snakes in every direction.
Snakes.
Every feather and hair on my body stood up, and the rest of me wondered why Dash had thought that snakes would be a good gift. I was about to fly off the ground to escape, but I noticed that the “snakes” were just cloth tubes.
My fear sharpened when I realized the gift wasn’t from Dash. Again, Pinkie Pie had twisted something kind into something cruel.
Applejack chimed in happily: “Spittin' snakes. Hah, somepony pulled that prank on me last month!”
“Ha, ha.” I rolled my eyes. “I bet I know who that was.”
“You do?” Pinkie Pie said, grinning at me. It took every ounce of willpower I owned to keep from pouncing on her and punching the smile off her face. Repeatedly.
With the snakes over, everyone seemed to forget the pile of presents. I did, too; one trick present was enough for me.
Someone came up to Dash and started a conversation, so I retreated to the corner of the room. It was safer there; Dash wouldn’t want me to get violent over pranks. Then again, Dash found all of those violent pranks to be funny. The hoofshake buzzer, I could see. But the spicy vanilla lemon drops, the fake present? Did Dash’s standards for pranking drop over the years? What else had changed about her?
I looked over at her; she was taller, I could tell. I wasn’t really an expert on pony biology, but she looked a lot more like an adult than she did at camp. Her personality was mostly the same—brash, with just a hint of thoughtlessness and overconfidence.
But the more I thought about it, something about her seemed different. I looked over at her, trying to place it. She was chatting with Applejack now, and I could tell by her expressions and body language that she was really enjoying it.
Then it hit me: now, we were in a situation where it wasn’t “us versus them.” Dash had found new friends—something I knew, intellectually, but now I finally understood.
And what did you expect? I told myself. Did you really think she wouldn’t replace you the first chance she got?
I should’ve felt sad about that, but I didn’t. I felt bitter. Dash hadn’t been kicked out of her home. Her father hadn’t sabotaged her childhood by beating her mercilessly at every opportunity. Now, here she fit into her happy little community with all her happy little pony friends. Happily.
Did she even know how good she had it?
I brooded in my corner for at least ten minutes. I thought about trying to participate in the party festivities, but really, Dash was lost in conversation with Applejack, and no one else seemed to care that I was alone.
Some welcome party, I mused.
Eventually, Fluttershy coached a flock of birds to sing a musical score. It was definitely interesting to see trained birds like that; without my guilt and everything else that went wrong, I might have enjoyed the show.
After the song, a pink voice called out, “Cake time, everypony!” Pinkie Pie came through two swinging doors, pushing a cart with a fairly large cake. It lifted my spirits, slightly. I was hungry enough to at least try the cake, and my gut reaction was that Pinkie wouldn’t poison everyone there just to prank me.
Then again, that’s what I had thought about the candy. I wrestled with my doubts as I walked to the cake. When I got to it, a small, purple, reptilian thing spoke up, “Can I blow out the candles?”
“Why don't we let Gilda blow out the candles, Spike? She is the guest of honor after all,” Twilight Sparkle reprimanded it, like a parent would a child. Then it hit me: purple unicorn, purple... lizard thing. What sort of kinks are you into into, Twilight Sparkle? I wondered.
I put it out of my head and decided I wanted something to go right at that party. “Exactly,” I agreed, elbowing Twilight Sparkle’s kid out of the way. It reminded me of family dinners.
Still, this was my cake. I took a deep breath and blew out the candles. Success! I smiled, but then the candles re-lit themselves! I tried again, and the same thing happened. And again. All the ponies in the room started laughing at me, but I blocked it out and kept trying to extinguish the candles.
Finally, when I got lightheaded, I admitted defeat and stopped to catch my breath. From below, Spike exclaimed, “Relighting birthday candles! I love that prank. What a classic.”
Before I could get frustrated, Pinkie Pie chimed in, “Now, I wonder who could have done that!”
She had been alone with the cake before bringing it into the main room. “Yeah, I wonder,” I shot back, not even trying to keep the suspicion out of my voice.
A wet, squishing sound caught my attention; I looked at my cake in time to see Spike’s tail disappearing into it. Moments later, he popped out and asked, “Who cares? This cake is amazing!”
“Spike,” Twilight said flatly.
“What? It was great, try some!” Spike retorted.
Control your child! I mentally spat at its mother, but by then, it was too late. There had been nothing wrong with the cake itself; now, the entire thing was ruined. I tried to keep my anger down, but I was quickly losing the battle.
Dash must’ve noticed. “Hey, G... You’re not upset over some silly candles, are you?”
All things considered, I realized I wasn’t mad about the candles. Relatively speaking. I choked back my anger and replied, “No way, Dash. Like I said, I'm down with a good prank.” It’s these painful, cruel ones that hurt, dude, I added silently. We were going to have words when this whole “party” fiasco was finished.
“Come on, then. Let’s have some cake!” Dash said, running off to go get some plates.
Apparently, she thought the cake could be saved. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pinkie Pie take a huge bite out of it.
Without thinking, I grabbed her by the throat and pulled her behind the cake, making sure to tuck my tail in so we’d be hidden. I wanted to squeeze tighter, but I got a grip on myself. I couldn’t do anything with Dash there, at any rate. Instead, I settled on seething, “Hey. I’m watching you. Like a hawk.” It made me feel better.
The cake in her throat slid against my fingers as she swallowed. With her mouth clear, she responded in a too-cheery voice, “Why? Can’t you watch me like a griffin?”
Touché, bitch.
“Hey, y’all!” a friendly voice called out. Hurriedly, I let go of Pinkie Pie and came out from behind the cake. Applejack continued, “It’s pin the tail on the pony! Let’s play!”
Rarity let out a delighted gasp, “Oh, my favorite game! Can I go first? Can I have the purple tail?”
Everything at that party had gone wrong so far; I wanted to try the game before it did, too. I butted in with, “Well, I am the guest of honor.” I grabbed a fuzzy, purple tail from the ground in front of Rarity. “I’ll have the purple tail.” I didn’t even know the rules of the game, but I also didn’t care.
“Yeah, Gilda should definitely go first,” Pinkie Pie agreed with me. My desire to play the game greatly fell, but I couldn’t say anything before she continued, “Let's get you blindfolded!”
Something got forcibly tied around my head, blinding me. “Hey, what...” I grunted as the thing tightened, shoving my eyelids into my eyes. “What are you doing?!”
Being blind was torture to a griffin, but worse, someone grabbed me and spun me around. Pinkie Pie explained, “We're spinning you around and around and then you pin the tail on the pony!”
When the spinning stopped, Pinkie Pie commanded, “Now just walk straight ahead and pin the tail!”
I wasn’t falling for it. Not this time. “Now just walk straight ahead and pin the tail,” I mocked. I was blind, not dumb. “Yeah, right. This is another prank, isn’t it?” I turned around and stated, “I’m going this way.”
Pinkie Pie called out urgently from behind me, “Wait! The poster is...”
I slipped on something wet and sticky. Dizzy and blind as I was, my attempts to keep my balance just made me fall faster. I lurched forward, yelling, and two wooden flaps brushed past on either side of me. Finally, I crashed headlong into something. Colorful bursts flashed before my eyes before everything went black; I was still blindfolded.
One swipe of my talons later, the blindfold fell off. I looked at my cake-covered hands, then up to the trail of cake frosting that led through two swinging doors into... Somehow, I had slid all the way into the kitchen.
I blinked a few times, trying to decide if my head usually swam like that, or if I was still dizzy from being spun around. I stumbled back out into the parlor; something important was there.
As I walked, I noticed that some of my eye feathers had gotten rustled. Vaguely, I remembered a squirrel, and that I’d have to clean my hands before I fixed my face feathers.
“Uh, Gilda?” a pink voice asked delicately. “You pinned the tail on the wrong end.”
Her words confused me, but when I focused on the purple thing that was obscuring my vision, the color was wrong. It was the purple tail from earlier. Everything snapped back into focus, and once again, every pony in the room was laughing at me.
Including Dash.
Something broke inside, and that entire day ran together in a blur. All I wanted was to spend time with Dash. All she could give me was laughter? Because she had replaced me? I screeched the dissenting thoughts out of my head.
I realized I was hovering above everyone. They were all staring at me. I hate being stared at! I ranted, “This is your idea of a good time? I've never met a lamer bunch of dweebs in all my life! And Pinkie Pie...” I felt my eye twitch. “You... you are Queen Lame-o with your weak little party pranks!”
Finally, finally, a tiny bit of fear crossed her face. It was too small a win to satisfy me.
“Did you really think you could make me lose my cool?” I landed and walked to Dash. Even after everything, I still wanted to give her the chance to apologize to me, for some reason. I addressed everyone else in the room with, “Well, Dash and I have ten times as much cool as the rest of you put together!”
I put my arm around her, but she pulled away. I glanced at her; she was frowning at me. That just pissed me off even more. “Come on Dash, we're bailing on this pathetic scene!” I said, walking over to the door.
When I looked back, Dash was still standing in the same spot. Why was she still standing there? “Come on, Rainbow Dash, I said, ‘We’re leaving!’”
Dash didn’t say anything; she just stood there, eyes closed, deep in thought. I realized why she was hesitating, and a crack formed in my rage before heavy dread rushed in to take its place.
When Dash opened her eyes, she looked disappointed—and mad. “You know, Gilda?” Hearing her call me by my full name made the bottom fall out of my stomach. “I was the one who set up all those ‘weak pranks’ at this party.”
“What?!” I had just been sure that it had been...
I looked over at Pinkie Pie, and sure enough, she let out a quiet, “Ooh.”
Dash stepped in front of her and glared at me. “So I guess I’m Queen Lame-o?”
Everything caught up with me, and then it kept going too fast for me to keep up. I wanted everything to go back to how it had been. How it used to be. “Come on, Dash,” I pleaded. Please. “You’re joshin’ me.” That’s all this is: another stupid prank.
“They weren’t all meant for you!” Dash apologized, despite her anger. “It was just dumb luck that you set them all off!”
“I should have known! That dribble cup had Rainbow Dash written all over it!” Pinkie Pie added, inanely. In the back of my mind, I noted that, even when Dash and I were fighting, Pinkie still couldn’t stop getting between us.
My whole world was crumbling around me, but I still denied it. “No way. It was Pinkie Pie! She set up this party to trip me up, to make a fool of me.”
“Me?” Pinkie Pie denied. “I threw this party to improve your attitude! I thought a good party might turn that frown upside down!”
“And you sure didn’t need any help making a fool of yourself!” Dash cut in, flaring her wings and leaning forward. I shrank back. “You know, this is not how I thought my old friend would treat my new friends! If being cool is all you care about, maybe you should go find some new cool friend someplace else!”
I bore the brunt of her assault as best I could, but shame hit me like a brick. I had been out of line on everything. Worse was how Dash told me to “find some new cool friend.” As in, she knew that she was my only friend, and was holding that over me.
The only thing that hurt more was how I needed to find a “new” friend. It wasn’t a sharp pain; it was just a hollow, dull, throbbing ache.
Right there, in her anger, was the horrible truth. I knew it. I had taken the one good thing in my life, the one thing I had left, my best friendship, my only friendship, and I had ruined it. Not Father, not the pegasi at camp, not the other ponies.
Me.
I wanted to melt down and beg forgiveness. Then I remembered it was her fault in the first place! I had to fight to keep my voice from shaking as I told her, “Yeah? Well you... you... you are such an, a flip-flop! Cool one minute and lame the next.” I turned to the door. “When you decide not to be lame anymore, gimme a call.”
I slammed the door behind me and took off in a random direction. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t see anymore because of how hard I was crying. It didn’t matter.
Something massive bounced off me, followed by a squeaky voice that complained, “Not the mail...” I didn’t care, though. Nothing mattered. Today had been a complete disaster. I had come looking for understanding, for solace, for peace; instead, I had turned my only friend against me. I had nothing left.
I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t even know where I was flying. I just flew as hard as I could, sobbing, trying to escape the truth, even as it came crashing down around me.