The construction crew worked late into the night. It didn’t really bother her, but most of her animals were nocturnal and the noise had disrupted their sleep cycle. Although White Tail Woods was in the outskirts of Ponyville, the small village was so compact and silent that the distance hardly mattered; the discordant noise of deforestation was heard even from here.
Fluttershy looked out of her cottage and toward the west, she could see the light from the construction crews, and she sighed sadly. She was one of the few that had expressed disapproval in this construction, and although her voice was soft and nearly unheard, she had expressed it as best she could.
They had insisted, however, that this would bring progress. That this would advance the rustic charm of Ponyville and make it take one step forward toward higher civilization like Manehattan. Fluttershy didn’t agree. Taking down the natural land to erect ugly buildings was in no way progress, it was just a step backwards. They were reverting back to a time where tribal groups produced large poles to their gods, the only difference is they at least respected nature.
The honey-blonde pegasus frowned. But what could she do? Her voice wouldn’t be loud enough to impede their progress, she wasn’t exactly the most well-known, or well-liked maybe, pony here, so she had little political influence. All she could do was stand by the sidelines and watch helplessly, as per usual.
Still, that never stopped her from looking at this sad scene.
Every night since the construction began, Fluttershy woke up around the same time and stared out her window to watch it; to watch White Tail Woods shrink little by little.
Some help she was, right?
Fluttershy’s ears twitched as she heard shuffling. She wasn’t afraid and hardly reacted to the noise. She knew who it was.
“What’s wrong?” a sleepy feminine voice asked from behind.
“The forest,” Fluttershy answered, “They’re going to bring everything down…”
“You could always send that letter to the Mayor,” the voice suggested, “You’ve been holding on to it for, what, a week?”
“But what if it was rejected? What if the Mayor got mad at me? What if-“
“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” chided the voice.
Fluttershy remained silent for a few moments.
“How about this,” the voice started cheerfully, “Since I’m only in Ponyville for a few more days, how about I take a look into this?”
Fluttershy turned around, concern glinting in her eyes as she waved her hooves passionately, “Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly ask you to-“
“It is hardly an imposition,” the voice promised, “But. I’ll only do it on one condition.”
Fluttershy swallowed nervously, half-expecting the condition and yet still shivered with some primal sense of excitement. “What?”
“Come back to bed.”
~--~
From the personal journal of Twilight Sparkle: Head Librarian of the Golden Oaks Library, Princess Celestia’s Personal Pupil
"So, did he apologize?" Came the familiar cheerful, high-pitch voice in tandem with an inquisitive and calculative cadence rang from the shop not a second after I stepped inside. With barely one hoof inside the door, I sighed aloud and pushed through entirely to see, unsurprisingly enough, Pinkie Pie at the counter, quietly considering a few dozen cupcakes as a small snack.
Her question, random or not, was as much as a surprise as her eyeing the treats that Sugarcube Corner had to offer. What was a surprise, however, were my naïve expectations to her response.
"Did who apologize?" I countered, trotting my way to the counter. Quietly, I levitated my saddlebag beside the register and turned to face the impassive, indifferent pink pony.
"The colt that tried to flirt with you, but spilled his drink all over you," she stated matter-of-factly.
Quickly, and instinctively, I glanced at my being to see any signs of spillage. My blouse was impeccable albeit a little wrinkled; there was nary a sign of a mess. Skeptically, I raised a single accusatory eyebrow at Pinkie who managed to detach herself from the treats long enough for a sparing glance.
Pinkie Pie smiled her trademark smile, seemingly unable to decipher my questioning stare.
"Pinkie Sense?" I guessed.
She shook her head. "Nope. It isn't hard Twilight, you just have to look very carefully!"
Finally, she decided on her treat, taking out a simple, yet delicious, pink cupcake that matched her coat perfectly. She took a single bite out of it, leaving me to wait several agonizing seconds for her response to an ambiguous explanation.
"On your right shoulder, there is some evidence of grape juice being spilled on there. But, more so, there is a lot more on your mane." It was simple and concise, but it didn't explain everything.
"How did you know it was a colt? I could've just spilled it myself."
"Ah, excellent silly question my lowly assistant. Somepony as careful and meticulous as you wouldn't carelessly spill anything over yourself. Besides, at the angle the spill is at, it is physically impossible for you to have caused it. It was obviously done by a pony taller than you, a colt then, how do I know that? Easy. You smell of cheap cologne, obviously not from a mare or from yourself, has to be a colt that was practically all over you for you to stink of his scent. What's more, I can tell he was flirting with you; you have a piece of paper sticking out of your saddlebag with a hastily written phone number on it. He obviously must have disappointed you, because it was stuffed away in an almost inconsiderate manner."
If I wasn't here witnessing this, I don't think I would have believed it. However, despite this rather intricate display of opposing her personality, I still wasn't very surprised. Trying to decide what Pinkie would say next is the real challenge, as somepony like her is impossible to read; she would either randomly talk about how clocks are round or would go into incredible detail to explain my entire life story through small details.
Pinkamena Diane Pie, the improbable and immaculate Ponyville detective. I, Twilight Sparkle, was her lowly assistant.
"What had disappointed you, however, was not him spilling his drink," continued Pinkie, "You found the act a little cute. No, it must have been his interests in books. You of course went to your book club tonight, judging by the amount of books you brought in your bags, too easy. But, observe some of the books." Grinning, she went over to my saddlebags and pulled out three books. I instantly recognized them, “Contemporary Philosophy, Unicorn Magic: A History Of, and Magical Mysteries. All written by unicorns, which lead me to believe your date-"
"Not a date," I corrected.
"Is an earth pony or a pegasus; earth pony is more likely, judging by the stain I'd say he has a bulky build, not one suited for the lightweight pegasi."
"And how, pray tell, did you deduce that?"
"Easy. The books are wet."
Another ambiguous answer. I shrugged, conveying my indifference to that piece of information, "What difference does that make?"
"It makes all the difference my lowly assistant. You care for all of your books immensely; you aren't the type to get them dirty or messed up in any manner. But, they're wet. It was raining earlier, admittedly, but if the books were safely in your bags they would be dry. So, you took them out of the bag, into the rain, to either read or prove a point; you wouldn't read three books at once, especially in the rain, so the second option is more likely."
Right so far, I gestured with my hoof for her to continue.
"He probably said something about unicorns that didn't suit you. Something discrediting them, so, you argued. And to prove your point you used those books, all written about, and by, unicorns. He probably dismissed them without providing any proof, you angrily exited the scene, shown by your muddy hooves, and have come here for some comfort food."
To that, Pinkie happily pulled out a cupcake and handed it to me. Levitating it to my mouth, I gingerly took a bite, I hated when she was right.
"But, that isn't what disappointed you, is it? You don't mind another intellectual to talk to, even if he disagrees with you. In fact, you find that a challenge. How he disappointed you was his rudeness and lack of manners. He didn't bother holding out an umbrella for you while you stand in the rain. Which actually answers my initial question, no, he didn't apologize huh."
Grumbling an agreement to her deduction, I chewed the cupcake sullenly. Ever since the incident with the Marzipan Mascarpone Meringue Madness, Pinkie Pie has been on a roll with this detective business. Still, for as long as I have known her I still find it mind-boggling that Pinkie, of all ponies, can be a great detective! The mare who is trying to wrap her tongue around her head being some sort of genius?
It was a little disappointing honestly, I mean, at least I have read some mystery novels to be fluent in the detecting language; but my deductions are never as fast and as accurate as Pinkie's. I usually serve to be the everypony's foil, the medium in which Pinkie's jumbled information is conveyed coherently.
"Did you ever notice how our muzzles never stick out properly? It sorta just rounds off smoothly, weird huh?" Pinkie laughed at her observation, making me question once more if this is really the great detective sitting in front of me.
With Winter Wrap Up all done with, spring has officially gone underway and the pegasi are quick to let us know. The week after Winter Wrap Up has been filled with sunny days immediately followed by downpours. The dreadful weather had, naturally, dampened my mood. But, no matter how much I talk to the weather team, they were adamant in keeping up this inclement weather. As a result, I feared a random downpour occurring in my own bathroom!
Pinkie was the only one unaffected. She would run out there, like a wild dog and enjoy the rain, rolling around in the mud like an uncouth possessed mare. I could do without the rain, thank you very much.
It also could potentially wreck the opening of the new museum. Ponyville, the rustic, backwater village, was getting a brand new museum courtesy of Princess Celestia, tonight; where marvelous treasures from pony history would be displayed. I had heard that Star Swirl's staff would be displayed there as well, but that wasn't what made it amazing. Apparently, the tiara of Princess Platinum would be unveiled there as well.
There was never any artifact from Princess Platinum's kingdom ever uncovered until now; I thought that they were lost in the flames of the dragon that attacked. To know that there was something from that terrible disaster that survived was amazing! I had wanted to check it out as soon as possible, but the aforementioned rain played an ominous foreboding over it.
Hopefully, the skies would be clear that day.
"Twilight, you know you have a funny look on your face when you're doing soliloquys," giggled Pinkie, "Oh, and can you answer the door for me please?"
I glanced at the door, which was as silent as a church mouse. There wasn't anypony out there. I looked back at Pinkie.
"Uh, Pinkie there isn't anypony at the door-"
A loud crash followed by a rainbow colored blur rushing past me stopped my declaration mid-sentence. Another crash exploded in the back of the kitchen, followed by cursing and a few pans falling to the ground in a particularly flippant manner.
I didn't need Pinkie Sense to guess who it was.
As expected, Rainbow Dash popped out of the kitchen, slightly dazed but fully alert when she spotted Pinkie. Rainbow Dash was a pegasus of the Royal Guard, though initially she wanted to be a Wonderbolt, after averting the theft of Princess Celestia's gown she was made into the Princess's personal guard and, by proxy, the lieutenant of the Royal Guard.
She usually lived in Cloudsdale or in Canterlot, depending on her job situation; she only really stuck around Ponyville for Applejack. It wasn't hard to guess why.
"Pinkie," growled RD, "What have you got on her? Anything yet?"
In accordance to my title, Pinkie Pie is a consulting detective; no, scratch that, she's the consulting detective. The very first of her kind! She takes in odd jobs by average ponies or by the Royal Guard or even by royalty, you'd be surprised how often Celestia needs help locating her phoenix pet, Philomenia.
But, I hadn't known what Rainbow was asking about. Although I was technically her partner and chronicler, I wasn't in the loop of many the cases Pinkie would be involved in. This must have been urgent however; I've never seen Rainbow so agitated since that cliffhanger in Daring Do and The Cove of Candles.
"Nope!" Pinkie answered delightfully, "The trail ran cold. Hehe, how could a trail run cold? If it's running, shouldn't it stay warm? Speaking of which, can a trail really run?"
"Pinkie!" Dash interrupted, "What do you mean the trail ran cold?"
"That's what I'm saying!"
"I mean," the pegasus grumbled angrily, I could only sympathize with her at this point, "How could you lose track of her?"
"Uh, excuse me," I stepped forward, everypony looking at me now with impatience and unbridled happiness, strange mix I know, "Who's she?"
"Twilight?" Dash remarked as if suddenly recognizing my existence, "Why are you here? Did I miss the book club? Please don't tell me I missed the book club!"
"No, no RD, the Daring Do book club is next week."
Rainbow sighed in relief. I understood why, a new series of Daring Do books were released recently. Of course it isn't by the same author but it is good all the same. Rainbow and I picked up the book a while back and were hooked, though I'm not sure about Mare Do Well being involved, a bit dull if you ask me.
"Anyways," Dash continued, "She is quite a dangerous criminal. Not even the Royal Guard are able to track her down. I asked Pinkie a while back for a little help, but so far we haven't gotten anything."
She glared at Pinkie as if this were all her fault, the earth pony just smiled in response.
"Come on slow-pokes, I'll show you who she is!" Pinkie declared, hopping up the stairs and leading to her room.
I must admit I was intrigued, not only by this criminal but Pinkie's interest in her. Pinkie didn't have much of an interest in criminals or in crime-fighting in general, she just enjoys puzzles, keeping her mind busy. That's why she's either memorizing everything about everypony, running around throwing parties or bursting into spontaneous song and dance.
We were led into her room upstairs; I didn't know what she could show me that I haven't seen before. I've been to her room numerous times, what could she possibly have that requires are attendance there?
She opened her door and stepped right in, but the sight of it all just blew my mind.
"I see you have been keeping track of her…" Dash muttered, slightly impressed.
All over the room were dozens, maybe even hundreds of newspaper clippings, photographs, and even maps laid out with countless strings of thick red wire, connecting one article to another in an almost infinite chart, tracking somepony that must be worth all of this effort.
"Just… how dangerous is this pony?" I asked stepping under a string and into the center of the room.
"Not very," admitted Pinkie, "She's just a very crafty pony."
"But what does she do that attracts your attention?"
"She is only ever referred to as The Mare-"
"By whom?"
"-And she is an amazing thief. Conducting numerous thefts all throughout Equestria. She is impossible to track, she has countless aliases and I have never seen her true identity. I've only encountered her once in Manehattan where she attempted to burgle some diamonds by a visiting Countess. She escaped me though."
She pointed at a picture above her bed, "That's her in one of her aliases: Madam Le Flour."
I looked at the picture and was graced by an absolutely stunning mare. She was a pure white earth pony with dazzling golden eyes and a curled blue mane, she wore an elegant red dress with so many frills the fabric looked like it had a mind of its own. She looked like she was five years my senior.
I didn't understand it though, if Pinkie had a picture of her why not go on that?
"Pinkie, you have her picture, why not use that track her?" I asked, voicing my concern.
"It's a disguise silly," she said simply, "I told you, she has a great number of aliases and, no doubt, a number of disguises. Or, alternatively, there isn't one Mare, but multiple ones."
"What makes you say that?"
She pointed to several pictures pinned up opposite of me. They featured an earth pony, a unicorn and even a pegasus. Were those also the Mare? No, impossible, no matter how good you are you can't disguise yourself as all three pony races!
"Wait, but why are you so interested RD?" I asked, turning to the pegasus.
"This thief has threaten to steal several of the princess's personal treasures," she explained passionately, she was extremely loyal, it seems, to her job, "She nearly got away with one of the princess's evening gowns, but I had managed to thwart her. However, I don't want to take any chances with this new museum."
An interesting thought, certainly, that this mare has gained the attention of both Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Rainbow was a stubbornly proud pegasus, generally refusing the help of any other pony and preferring to do things herself, the fact that she is enlisting the help Equestria's only consulting detective was a feat in itself.
And the fact that my friend, Pinkie, was already intensively focused on this mare and had dedicated plenty of her time and energy into finding her was a feat as well, seeing as the hyperactive pink mare never focused on anything that wasn't sugary or glazed. This even gained my curiosity and attention, just who was this mare causing all of this trouble?
"The Mare has already decided that she was stealing Princess Platinum's tiara tonight at the grand opening," explained Pinkie, "Lookie at what she wrote."
She pulled out a card from one of her drawers and laid it out in front of us.
The card was of a simple eggshell color, nothing remarkable about it except the lettering. Written in exceedingly fancy golden text was:
"'Headwear isn't my style, but a Mare has to indulge herself sometimes.'" I read aloud.
It was obviously typed out, the font was literally immaculate, there is no way anypony would be able to have that type of penmanship. At the best a unicorn could produce something like this; even I can't write in such a manner, an earth pony or pegasus would have an even tougher time.
"Nothing to go on," I admitted.
"Really?" Pinkie asked, suddenly in front of me, eyes wide with anticipation and curiosity, "Nothing at all, Twi?"
Stepping back, a bit startled at her sudden enthusiasm, I readily defended myself, stuttering over my words like a filly, "O-of course not! There's nothing at all, I mean, the letters were obviously typed but that proves nothing!"
Pinkie shook her head, but she was still smiling at me, "Oh Twi, sometimes you're so funny. Pretending like you can't see anything."
Rolling my eyes, I began to get a little offended, "I'm not pretending. You can't get anything from this card alone."
"You can get a lot out of it, Twi; for example, I know she's probably high in status, works with Canterlot elites, and is exceedingly well-educated." She explained simply, "Can't point out where she lives or works, though. That's the most troubling part about it."
She shrugged and turned toward her web of conspiracy, leaving Dash and I flabbergasted.
"Wait, wait, how did you figure all of that out?" I asked.
"Excellent silly question," Pinkie said, still paying attention to her arts and crafts project, "The answer is as simple as apple pie. Her penmanship is amazing, nopony would be able to replicate that with accuracy, but it isn't typed, can't be typed. Look at the how heavy she presses on the upward strokes of the 'h', 'l', 'd' and 'm', slight inconsistency within them, but enough to be noted. A unicorn is the only logical conclusion. The high status stems from its scent; it smells sweet, very classy perfume, one most likely sold in Canterlot, the classy center of Equestria. The fact that she works with those Canterlot elites is also simple, the card itself was used from the Canterlot Postal Services, same brand, same density."
As she explained this my mouth became more agape in shock, everything she was saying was so simple, the clues and hints were obvious as I take another look at it but would never have appeared there had Pinkie not explained anything. Unfortunately, this had not opened up many possibilities for me; I hadn't known a mare fitting that description.
"But, it's as you say," she continued, sighing, "There isn't anything to go on. The Mare is a master of disguise, she won't appear as herself."
"But still," Rainbow stepped forward, "We can pull off more information from the card. Let me take the card to the Canterlot lab and we can pull DNA off it."
"No time," Pinkie answered, heading to the door, "Besides, that doesn't matter."
"What do you mean? If we want to find her, it completely matters!" argued Rainbow.
"Silly Rainbow," Pinkie looked over her shoulder with a wide grin but clever eyes, "You've enlisted my help, which means, if you want, I'll just catch her tonight and you can do whatever you want to her and the card."
We followed the pink pony out of Sugarcube Corner, trying to get her to explain how she plans to capture this thief, but I knew the task would be impossible. Once Pinkie had her mind set on something, she would spend an endless amount of time focused on that task, absolutely silent and driven on that task; sometimes she would end up mute for weeks on end!
We hailed a cab and set out for the museum opening. We headed past Sweet Apple Acre and out of the rustic little town. The scenery morphed from the beautiful naturalistic view of trees, wide open skies, and the sweet scent of nature to a dull gray field in the middle of scenic nowhere. A huge majority of the Whitetail Woods was being torn down to make way for a small industrial area.
Optimistically, this could help Ponyville socially, and place us on the map! With hopes of a grand metropolis, one that would rival Manehattan, anything was possible. This museum was just the start. Although, I must admit, it had pained me to see a quarter of Whitetail Woods reduced to this gray, lifeless, empty field.
At the edge of the field, the very southern tip of Whitetail Woods, sat the museum. It was a grand building, bright gray marble glinted in the evening sky, columns of heroically depicted ponies burdening under the weight of the museum roof stood giant before us. The steps were nearly countless and there were already scores of ponies lined up to enter this exceptionally exclusive opening.
Much swagger abound, however, Pinkie strolled right past the line and up to the security. She was either extraordinarily confident or indifferent to the security pony trying to screen her. Before anything could get out of hoof, however, Rainbow stopped the pony from tackling Pinkie.
"She's with me," she told him, which hadn't eased his suspicions.
Walking up there I could hear the idle gossip of the townsfolk.
"Is that…?"
"Pinkamena?"
"Detective?"
"Oh, Celestia… her welcome wagon!"
She certainly knows how to make an impression. I had doubted there was anypony out there that hasn't heard of Pinkie Pie, who at day played an eccentric party pony and at night moonlighted as an equally eccentric detective. Suspicion would probably be aroused if the great Pinkie Pie would attend such a dull event that didn't feature excellent music or cake.
To play the act, however, of her more energetic, party-animal personality, a wide smile appeared on her face as she immediately violated the personal space of a poor mare; quickly asking if there were any refreshments and why there isn't any music playing.
A deadpan response came, explaining that this wasn't that type of party. Pouting the pink party pony trotted over to me and smiled, "The Mare is probably here," she told me.
I looked around at the crowd. There were an assortment of posh ponies, griffons, and even a kindly elderly donkey. None of them looked particularly suspicious, my expression of disbelief fared well against Pinkie's blissful smile, in tandem with Rainbow's frown, however, the earth pony decided to explain.
"She's a master of disguise," explained Pinkie simply, "Of course she'll be dressed up as anyone here. We just need to find out who."
"It'll be reasonable to count out the griffons," I remarked, "And potentially any stallions."
Though, it wouldn't be easy. There were still more than a few dozen of ponies here, all of them wearing clothing that hid their figure well, so it would be difficult to see anypony that was out of the norm, quite frankly.
"Maybe, my lowly assistant, but we shouldn't jump to conclusions without any information. I can't make any cake without any milk or sugar, after all!" grinned Pinkie, satisfied with her metaphor.
I was going to ask what cake had to do with this when a pony interrupted my thoughts, "Pinkie?" an excitable, cheerful voice called out. Turning, I saw a lovely unicorn in front of me, with a wide smile, white coat, electric blue hair with lighter blue highlights and big purple glasses obscuring her crimson eyes underneath.
Unlike the other ponies, she didn't wear any clothes, revealing her cutie mark: two bridged eighth notes.
Vinyl Scratch, a disc-jockey of some repute, though she prefers to go by her stage name "DJ PON-3", to her friends she is on a first name basis. A kind pony, albeit eccentric, though not as much as Pinkie. It was no wonder these two were friends, however; the famous DJ and the famous party pony/detective, a match made in heaven, really.
"Vinny!" Pinkie gushed, hugging the poor unicorn, who staggered back.
"I told you never to call me that, Pinny," Vinyl laughed, returning the hug.
"Oh, you know Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash," introduced Pinkie, gesturing to the two of us. She bowed toward me and Rainbow.
"The librarian and somepony from the royal guard?" guessed Vinyl.
"Lieutenant," corrected Rainbow.
"Sorry, sorry," amended Vinyl, "Your names don't exactly go around in the local nightclubs. Though, surprisingly enough, I heard your name floating around Canterlot,” she explained, looking at me with a quizzical, yet mysterious, smile.
"Along with Pinks, of course. You two are never seen apart," Vinyl remarked, "You're her… chronicler, right?"
I was going to offer my response, and offense at what she was suggesting, until Pinkie wrapped her leg around my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug.
"She's my bestest friend! The cutest, smartest, all around best pony!" she said with her traditional smile.
Vinyl giggled to my embarrassment, pushing up her glasses, revealing her bright red eyes.
"So, Pinks, what're you doing here? Didn't think this was your type of gig."
We trotted along as we spoke, moving from the lobby into one of the rooms. As we entered, there were plenty of ponies admiring the art. Treasures from faraway lands, paintings by famous ponies, and in the middle of the room stood a grand monument. A very large bronze statue of Princess Celestia standing heroically on a piece of earth, she had her leg stretched outward, her wings open, and a demure smile on her face, as if to say, "Yes, I raise the sun and moon. What of it?"
"Oh, you know, enjoying this party thingy. Though, it isn't much of a party," Pinkie frowned, "Not a lot of fun, just boring art stuff. Maybe if I get my special punch going, we could have some more fun!"
Vinyl rolled her eyes, making those crimson orbs spin hypnotically, "We don't need a repeat of the last Grand Galloping Gala, Pinks."
"I didn't know the princess could do that with a tuba!"
"Anyways," Vinyl interjected, cutting Pinkie off, "I'm not stupid Pinks. You, Equestria's greatest consulting detective, here with a lieutenant of the Royal Guard? It doesn't take… well, you, to figure things out. You're on a case, right?"
"That's classified information!" accused Rainbow, flying up to her face, "Why are you asking?"
"No reason to," smiled Vinyl, "You just gave me the answer."
Rainbow's cheeks colored pink briefly before her anger recovered her demeanor. However, before the pegasus could accuse Vinyl of being a spy, I stepped in.
"Yes, we're here investigating something," I answered diplomatically, "Probably nothing though. It's just a hunch."
Vinyl looked at me with some interest, as if I had grown horns spontaneously. Then when satisfied, she smiled again and dropped her shades, "Twilight Sparkle, you may not have known Pinkie for very long. But you'll come to learn that she doesn't do anything based on hunches."
With that, DJ PON-3 had left us.
"You know Vinyl well?" I asked Pinkie who seemed more interested in a bust of Princess Luna than answering my question.
"Yep, we go way back," she answered hastily, "I was the one who got her into music."
"Right, but-"
"Ooh, what's that?!" Quickly, she hopped away from me, evading the conversation.
"You won't get anything out of her," remarked Rainbow, "I'll go and line up my troops."
The pegasus flew off and I trotted toward Pinkie, trying to keep up with her weirdly fast pace.
"Pinkie," I called, trying to get her away from the thousand year old helmet of Commander Hurricane, "You don't find her a little suspicious? She's a unicorn, she could've easily written that note, and she works at Canterlot!"
"Nope!" she answered, giggling as she tried to put on the helmet. Levitating the cap away from her, I teleported in front of her to prevent her from going any further.
"Pinkie," I said, "You said it yourself. 'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever that's left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth!'"
That was actually the abridged version, what she really said was, "If you take out the things that can't happen, then anything afterward, even if it is super-duper weird and doesn't make sense, is your answer!"
"You can't tell me that you, of all ponies, can't find her suspicious!" I argued.
Uncharacteristically, Pinkie's smile wavered, and, for a brief second, I swore I saw doubt in her eyes. In those bright light blue eyes that were filled with happiness and love, I saw plausible doubt. She didn't want to trust her instinct.
I stepped back, staggering almost as if someone had struck me. As I had never seen Pinkie doubt herself before, even at her most insane, Pinkie was always resolute and confident.
Embarrassed at my outburst, my interest fell to the floor as I nervously pawed at it, "O-oh," I squeaked out.
What was this feeling? Trepidation? Apprehension? I couldn't pinpoint it, I knew that she and Vinyl were close, on account of how they behaved, they went way back, perhaps even to fillyhood. Did I feel this way because I knew Pinkie's doubt came from her trust in Vinyl?
Her hoof patted my shoulder, and I looked up and saw her smile, her usual confident gleam in her eyes, "Don't you worry your little head. Auntie Pinkie will get this figured out!"
I wanted to complain that I was only a year younger than her, but said nothing and smiled instead.
Before I could offer my thoughts, the sounds of an old microphone being thoroughly tested filled the room. Over to the very right of the room, in front of the statue of Princess Celestia, stood a small podium where a grayish amber pony stood. This bespectacled mare had a strange bluish gray mane and tail, a kind smile, and a clever glint to her eyes.
She cleared her throat into the microphone to garner our attention, "Fillies and gentlecolts, welcome to the grand opening of Ponyville's first historic museum!"
Polite applause came, along with an overly enthusiastic cry that had asserted Ponyville had trumped all other rustic villages of about one hundred ponies.
"Yes, we would like to thank Colt Curator for financing this magnificent expense," Mayor Mare stepped to the side to gesture to a stallion behind her. His coat was chestnut brown, his hair of a darker shade of brown, he had a bored, indifferent expression but when the Mayor called his name, his eyes lit up briefly and a confident smile fell upon his face. When he walked up to the podium, I saw his cutie mark: three little dollar signs.
"Oh, please Mayor Mare, no need to thank me," he said with that brilliant smile, "I'm just happy to bring some culture to this backwater- er, or rather, to Ponyville. After all, you guys have so much room to spare."
Mayor smiled diplomatically then trotted off and struck up a conversation with Vinyl. Probably trying to get DJ PON-3 to perform sometime in Ponyville.
No one seemed to take offense to his words, and merely smiled and nodded as the stallion continued on with his little speech. Speaking about how he grew up in Ponyville when he was young, then moved to Manehattan to acquire his fortune, etcetera, etcetera.
After five brutal minutes, he finally went on to explain the most important piece this museum had to offer. No, oddly enough, not the statue of Princess Celestia, but instead Princess Platinum's tiara. By that time, Rainbow Dash had joined me to listen to this colt yammer on and on.
"Miss anything?" she asked.
"You missed how we backwater ponies are not worthy of this museum and Curator's help," I told her sarcastically.
Excitingly, he had invited us to the other room to see the treasure.
I had counted fifteen of us as we all walked with him. I wondered why the others hadn't joined us, but decided not to question it, the less of us that are there, the less trouble we, more particularly Pinkie, would have spotting the thief. Along with the ponies here to enjoy the museum came five pegasi, part of the Royal Guard, to keep an eye on things.
Up the spiral staircase and two corridors later, we were in a pure white room dedicated to the arrogant Princess. There were paintings of her and a full scaled model in the middle; she looked just as pompous as the legends depicted. And atop the model, which was entirely beige and unremarkable, sat a bright silver, jewel-encrusted tiara.
"Behold! The tiara of Princess Platinum!" He needlessly reiterated, "One of the greatest treasures, in pony history, ever!"
The crowd of ten oohed and aahed as we all shuffled into the room. In that instance, I surveyed the ponies here. Vinyl Scratch, Rainbow Dash, a kindly old donkey, Mayor Mare, Pinkie, myself, a young pegasus/unicorn couple, a Canterlot elite who had his snobby nose high up in the air, and his date. The pegasi of the Royal Guard trotted over to the mannequin and surrounded it, ensuring that nopony was to go near it.
"Kinda tacky," remarked Vinyl.
One of the Canterlot elite, an arrogant earth pony with coifed brown hair, a monocle, and a fancy waistcoat, looked over Vinyl with mild interest, "Oh, and I suppose you moonlight as a fashionista then?"
Vinyl gave him a death stare, but he just regarded her like an insect.
"Nope, professional DJ, and who are you supposed to be?" she asked indignantly.
"I am Lord Whinnyton," he announced pompously, "And she is Lady Alexandria."
His date, a beautiful pink unicorn who batted her eyelashes at us, seemed a little bored with everything here. She looked at the tiara like it was a trinket she wanted to shop for.
But, despite Whinnyton's attempt at impressing us with his name, and date, we just stood there, almost baffled at him. After all, I certainly have never heard of him, I would remember someone as pompous as him.
"Ooh," Vinyl cooed sarcastically, "Are we supposed to be impressed?"
Whinnyton glared at her, but decided against saying anything, as if the mere act of talking with her would tarnish his pretentiousness.
"I suppose a disc-jockey wouldn't have heard of me," he scoffed bitterly, "No matter, commoners will have their talk."
He and his date, trotted off. Vinyl sneered at his disappearing figure before turning back to me with her smile. Glancing past her, I noticed Pinkie and Rainbow were looking at the tiara carefully, as if to ensure it doesn't disappear on them.
Turning back to Vinyl, I tried for a smile but it must've come out bitterly because she looked at me seriously.
"What's wrong?" she asked, "Don't tell me Pinks gave you one of her homemade muffins?"
There goes that nickname again.
"N-no," I eloquently stammered, "I was just thinking… How did you and, uh, Pinkie meet again?"
Vinyl stared at me weirdly before flipping up her shades, those red eyes were distracting, "I was trying to write a song for this talent show thing we had at school," she began to explain, "But I was stuck. I was a good enough singer, ya kinda have to be when you live in Ponyville-"
Ah, she had grown up in Ponyville?
"- But, ah, I sucked when it came to lyrics. I guess that's why I'm a disc jockey, huh?" she asked humorously, "So, there I was, underneath this big apple tree trying to get some inspiration to write… when all of a sudden, it hit me! Literally! Pinkie dropped right out of the tree and hit me smack-dab on the head. Being a Manehattan girl, I nearly got into a fight with her, but when she smiled at me and asked what I was doing, I couldn't bring myself to smack her, ya know?"
Yes, indeed, I know of that smile that allows Pinkie to get away with anything. Just one look of it would make me weak; she was quite manipulative if she wanted to be, but confound that innocent personality of hers.
"'Whatcha doing?' she asked, and I told her that I was trying to come up with some lyrics for a song, but lacked the inspiration. Pinkie stared at me, then jumped for joy, 'Hold on to your hooves, I'm about to be brilliant!' she cried. Then she sped off into the distance. It only took two minutes for me to hear the music. She came over the hill, wearing this crazy contraption where she practically glued a bunch of instruments to herself. With each step and each breath, a different instrument would play."
She smiled wistfully, as if she could still recall that contraption.
"It was chaotic, of course; nothing was in harmony, nothing really connected, but even in that mess of noise she made, I could still hear music. It's hard to explain, but I could hear the potential for music hidden underneath that dissonant mess she created. She played for hours while I sat there coming up with inspiration and I had finally finished the song. I asked her if she could perform with me and she couldn't say yes enough. We didn't end up winning, but we became friends and I had learned, after the entire mess, that my cutie mark had appeared, thanks to her."
Vinyl bashfully scratched the back of her head, as she smiled embarrassedly, which, in turn, embarrassed me; hearing about something so personal. Guilt then weighed on my shoulders; I felt ridiculous for accusing her of being The Mare. She seemed too fond of Pinkie to become a criminal mastermind.
"How did you two meet?" Vinyl asked.
"Oh, uh, w-well," I didn't exactly have an endearing narrative depicting of our heartwarming meeting where she looked at me for four seconds, gasped, then ran off to throw me a party in my home.
Then, suddenly, the lights turned off. A gasp in the crowd and a girly shriek caught my attention, and I snapped into action.
"Twi!" I heard Pinkie call out.
My horn lighting up with magic, I produced a very basic light spell. It took five seconds as the wisps of magic emitted from my horn and floated up to the ceiling lights, where, upon contact, lit up the room entirely.
Everything was accountable, everypony was in the spot where they had been before, I think. The lights were off for a good ten seconds, not long enough for anything to happen, but we weren't so lucky.
"The tiara…" I heard Whinnyton gasp.
"Dang it! How?" Rainbow demanded.
My heart dropped as I turned to look at the mannequin of Princess Platinum where her head lay bare, except for a note.
The Mare got it.
"W-wh-, ho-how?" Curator sputtered.
"Oh, my," mumbled Mayor Mare.
"Wow, not bad," mused Vinyl.
"All right everypony!" Rainbow flew up to the center of the room, staring at everyone with hawk-like precision, "Nopony moves! We're finding this tiara now!"
The only one remaining idle in this time of panic was Pinkie. She stood by the mannequin, looking at it intensely. Then, finally satisfied, she examined the note attached.
Trotting beside her, she asked, "What do you make of this?"
"'Lovely present, it will look lovely on me. A Mare must have something fashionable for an event like this'," I read aloud, "She is arrogant. Your type of gal Pinks."
Pinkie looked at me, almost disturbingly, as I dropped Vinyl's nickname on her. It made me uneasy that her concentrated stare was focused on me. Thankfully, she didn't stare long. She turned right back to the note and sniffed it.
"Pretty smell, don't you think?" she asked.
I smelled the card and could only barely notice the very subtle hint of Jasmine on it. It would have taken a wild animal to have detected it that quickly.
"Fresh," I remarked, "Meaning it was probably written out beforehand, maybe around the same time the first note was written. She'd planed everything out."
"Good, Twi!" she complimented, bringing a blush to my cheeks, "But that's probably wrong."
"How?" I whined.
"The ink," she noted, "It's fresh."
I looked down at the note and it was as she said. The ink was still slightly wet. I smudged it with my hoof and frowned as a smear tainted the lovely card.
"She wrote it in a hurry, though; look at the strokes. A bit more excitable than her first card, but it shows one thing, that's for sure."
"And what," Rainbow flew down between us, landing in front of me, "Might that be?"
"She's still here."
Rainbow looked around at the crowd of ponies and frowned, "She might've escaped during the chaos with the lights."
"Impossible, my dear Rainbow," Pinkie explained calmly, trotting in front of Rainbow and around the mannequin, "The doors weren't opened. We would've heard her," she looked at me, signaling me to open the doors.
With my magic, I opened the double-doors and, as she said, they creaked and moaned as they opened. Also, they were rather heavy, and it took a little more exertion than normal to pull them open.
"Besides, she doesn't want to escape. No, that would be too easy," Pinkie grinned mischievously as she turned to us, "She is challenging us. She wants to see if we'll find her before she gets bored and leaves. Why else would she leave a note?"
"We need to hurry then," I suggested, "Look for clues, establish what happened, and find out who the Mare is disguised as!"
"Yes, but-"
"Good!" Rainbow interrupted, "Go and do that, I'll get more troops up here, and-"
"No," Pinkie said, "You have to stay as well. After all, we don't know if you're the Mare yet. You can't leave, Dash."
Instead of being offended, Rainbow just smiled affirmatively, "Good point. I'll stay until the great detective can find this thief."
With that, Pinkie hopped over to the mannequin, next to the startled, and embarrassed, pegasi.
"Are you sure nopony got past you?" she asked.
The largest one glared at her, "Of course!" he grumbled, "If anypony had gotten past us, then we would've noticed!"
"Then how did they get the tiara?" she asked innocently.
He flushed, ashamed, but reasserted that they haven't moved their formation since they had arrived.
"No matter!" she called out. Then, strangely enough, she started to sniff the pegasi. Satisfied, Pinkie went over to Mayor Mare, sniffed her, then over to Curator, and to the young couple, then to the Canterlot elites, to Rainbow Dash, me, then, finally, Vinyl.
"What, uh, was that?" asked Rainbow, slightly violated at Pinkie's lack of personal space.
"Searching for clues!" she exclaimed before running off to the mannequin, down low on the floor looking at every square inch.
Vinyl came over to me, laughing, "Does she always do that?"
"This was a good day," I remarked, "Sometimes she licks you."
She laughed, "Yeah, she's like that, I remember this one time where she- hey, what's wrong?"
I couldn't hide my shock as I backed off quietly, but not as subtly as I had hoped; for when Vinyl Scratch, the famous DJ PON-3, came up to me, I caught the whiff of the subtlest jasmine on her; the same as the card.
It was difficult, nay, it was impossible to stand there; to stop myself from running toward Pinkie, accusing Vinyl of being the Mare. That's why she smelled Vinyl, wasn't it? She smelled the scent of jasmine as well; she knew it was her!
No, no, calm down. Pinkie doesn't do anything without a good reason. If she knew, she would've said something by now; maybe she is trying to find evidence to the contrary… or maybe she was finding evidence to support her claim.
"Ah, excuse me," I mumbled, walking away from Vinyl and toward Pinkie who was too busy smelling the mannequin to pay any attention to me. "Pinkie!" I hissed.
"Hm? Oh, what's up, Twi?" She asked with a wide smile.
"Have you, um, found anything yet?"
The earth pony, to my surprise, nodded.
"Yep!" she cried, "I think I may have figured something out."
"Already?" asked Rainbow, "But you've only been looking for like thirty seconds. No way you found out already!"
"Oh, I didn't just find out, I knew all along," she answered enigmatically.
Lord Whinnyton snorted, "Really now? What a joke, they call you the Great Detective, but it is for show, is it not?"
"Hey, I'd watch your next words, very carefully there, bub," I snarled uncharacteristically. Then, catching how odd I acted, I stepped back, embarrassed.
"Anyhoo. There was no need to guess or find evidence; after all, she told us who she was right from the start," Pinkie explained, walking over to Vinyl with a mischievous look on her face. Oh dear, was it really her?
"'Headwear isn't my style, but a Mare has to indulge herself sometimes.'" Pinkie recited.
"That doesn't explain anything," pointed out Vinyl.
"It says a lot, Vinny, a lot more than expected."
"Would you just tell us?!" impatiently cried the Curator.
"It's simple!" she insisted, "It's right there! What does she call herself?"
"The Mare?" I answered with some trepidation.
"Exactly! She's The Mare. A master-thief and very brilliant, if not a bit overconfident. Isn't that right, Mayor?"
Shocked, everyone looked upon the Mayor, who just smiled confidently, despite the guards already surrounding her.
"Where's the tiara?!" demanded Rainbow, confronting the thief.
"You rough and tumble pegasi are always so straight to the point," Mayor remarked, her voice different, taking on a sophisticated accent and tone, "Shame, really. Those wings of yours are quite fabulous."
"Enough!" snapped Rainbow, "Grab her!"
"I don't think so…"
Before the guards could detain her, light glowed around her body and enveloped her entirely. A loud pop shook the room and I felt an intense wave of magic wash over me. When the light died, the Mayor wasn't there, only a group of dazed pegasi.
"Where'd sh-, doesn't matter, everypony, find her! Cover the exits!" Rainbow ordered.
But, my friend Pinkie Pie had different plans entirely. She hadn't followed them and instead ran out of the door and veered right, to the ascending staircase. Being her trusty helper, I followed suit.
"Wait!" I cried, trying to keep up with Pinkie's pace as she raced up the stairs, "Hold on! Pinkie, where are you going?"
She hadn't answered and just kept running until she hit a door. Passing through it, we found ourselves on the roof. It was night and Luna's sky blazed brilliantly above us as the dim lights of Ponyville were scattered on the horizon, like so many fireflies.
On the roof wasn't the Mayor, it was a different pony entirely. She wore a lovely black saddle-bag that complemented her pure white coat. She had beautiful curled indigo hair and a cutie mark of diamonds.
Rarity, the fashionista of Canterlot, stood before us.
"My," she purred, "You are fast."
"Te-teleportation," I coughed out, trying to catch my breath, "Who taught you that spell?"
It was an obvious teleportation spell. I felt the familiar magic downstairs right before she left; it was how she got to the roof so fast. But that was a moderately high-level spell; one error could produce fatal results.
"She won't say," answered Pinkie, "She's just buying time."
"For what?"
"You're better than advertised!" complimented Rarity, "I always thought of you as an air-headed pony. I suppose judging a pony by their cutie mark isn't very fair. By the way, what can you tell about me?"
"Where's the tiara?" demanded Pinkie.
"What a silly question; you know where it is," she answered, gesturing to her bag, "The better question is, how are you going to get it away from me?"
"Two on one," I reminded her, "We could take you."
"Maybe, but Pinkie won't fight, will you darling?"
Pinkie just smiled and shook her head, "There's no need to, darling, because you're going to give me the tiara."
Rarity laughed, a restrained noise that spoke volumes of sophistication and a reserved nature.
"You are funny!" she noted, "Why on earth would I give you this lovely treasure?"
"Because you know, as well as I do, that you didn't steal Princess Platinum's tiara."
Rarity frowned and, with levitation, opened her bag and showed the tiara to us. It looked exactly like the piece we saw earlier; same jewels. It was the same tiara.
"You need to get your eyes checked, darling."
"No, it is the other ponies that need to get their eyes checked. That isn't Platinum's tiara; she didn't own a tiara. Back then, mares like her didn't bother with those useless devices; besides, she had a crown, didn't she?"
"So, why do you want it so bad if you know it is fake?" asked Rarity.
"I don't, really, I just want to know why you want it."
Rarity smiled, as if Pinkie finally said something intelligent and looked at her with respect. Before answering, however, she turned to the open sky and gestured toward the forest that this museum faced.
"White Tail Woods," she explained, "Beautiful, isn't it? At least, it would be if this infernal museum wasn't in the way. Overwhelming this amazing example of nature by this tacky like building with trinkets that aren't even legitimate."
"I didn't take you for an environmentalist," I mused.
Rarity looked at me and frowned, "Twilight Sparkle. The… silly assistant of the Great Pinkamena Diane Pie. Hmph. Well, I'll have you know, that all of this wasn't about me. No, it was for a close friend of mine. They would've loved to see this placed untouched."
"So, what?" Pinkie asked, stepping forward, "Taking a fake tiara wouldn't do anything. Why'd you do it?"
"No, of course not, but an investigation by the royal guard would. It would take months, maybe even years before they stop the inevitable investigation."
I shook my head; even if she wanted to save this forest, stealing isn't the right way to go about it. There were other ways! She must be rich, working with Canterlot elites and such, she could donate money, do something practical.
"That's ridiculous! Stop making yourself out to be a martyr, you're just a thief. If you wanted to help, you could put some money into charities to stop this production. Thievery isn't the way." I argued.
"Perhaps, but, then again, who knows what the royal guard could uncover with a little digging, hm?"
Before I could ask what she was talking about, a chariot appeared out of nowhere. It appeared right over the roof, manned by only one pegasus who was shrouded in darkness. Rarity smiled as she looked over at the chariot, before turning to us and winking.
"Well, this has been fun, but I must take my leave!"
Before I could react, Pinkie was already on Rarity. She had jumped and tackled the mare, tumbling briefly and precariously over the edge. When she had pinned Rarity, it looked like she had won but the unicorn simply teleported away.
She had reappeared on the chariot, smiling proudly as the chariot then took off immediately, flying out into the night.
Suffice it to say, I was thoroughly embarrassed that I didn't do anything to help. I merely stood there; almost baffled by everything that just happened. When things had calmed down, however, my legs unfroze and I ran over to Pinkie.
"You okay?" I asked stupidly. "I'm sorry she got away, it was my fault. I mean, I should've done something, I could've done something, I-"
"It's okay, Twi," promised Pinkie.
"It's not okay! I just let her get away! I could've done something, Pinkie!"
Pinkie stood up and smiled at me, "Twilight, it's fine. Look," she lifted up her hooves and I gasped for joy, for underneath them was the tiara!
By the time we arrived downstairs, there were dozens of royal guards everywhere. All of them agitated and scuttling around as Rainbow Dash ordered them to take up positions. When Rainbow saw us, she raced toward us, irate that we disappeared.
"Where have you been?" she asked.
To answer, Pinkie simply threw the tiara at her, "And I'm sure that upon investigation, your guards would find… something interesting in this place and Curator in particular."
"Investigation? But- hey, where are you going?" she demanded as we reached the doors.
"Home, silly billie," smiled Pinkie, "I'm hungry, and Gummy misses me!"
Our walk home was done in silence. Ironic, really, since I was quite talkative when agitated and it was near impossible to shut Pinkie up. She didn't even hop, just walked in silence.
I glanced at the ground, then at Pinkie's back. She looked mysterious, aloof; so not Pinkie.
"Pinkie, I- I'm sorry."
Suddenly, she stopped, causing me to bump into her, and turned around. Pinkie raised a curious eyebrow, and frowned, "What're you sorry for?"
Blinking, I probably looked more confused than she did with my apology.
"Y-you know, for suspecting Vinyl for being the thief, then being useless as Rarity escaped."
To my surprise, Pinkie laughed, "Oh, that's fine, Twi! You were just trying to be cautious and unbiased. It's fine!"
"No! I accused one of your friends of being a criminal mastermind! Shouldn't you be mad?"
I glanced down at the ground, fearful of looking at Pinkie at that moment. She'd probably get mad, like I wanted. No, I didn't want her to be mad, but it makes sense, doesn't it? Anypony would be mad if their friends were accused of being criminals, wouldn't they?
But again to my surprise, Pinkie just hugged me.
"Don't be silly, Twi," she said softly, "You're my bestest, super-awesomest friend ever!"
Blushing, I froze, not sure what to do. It scared me a little that she hugged me so suddenly; speaking so softly it was almost motherly. But, before I could decide what to do, she had pulled away from the hug and grinned at me.
"But…" I thought carefully, "You… smelled Vinyl, didn't you? You smelled the jasmine on her, right? Why didn't you think of her as a suspect?"
"Easy," she started, "The Mayor – ah, I mean, Rarity, smelled of jasmine as well."
"That isn't enough evidence. Vinyl could've easily been Rarity," I argued.
"Nah, I trust Vinyl. It couldn't have been her!" She decided happily, making me feel rather miserable.
That ended our discussion, and we ended up at the library faster than I had expected. Pinkie grinned as she left me at my house, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I was awakened by the rude, and awfully loud, sound of the vacuum cleaner. Peering over my bed lethargically, I saw that my friendly, albeit sarcastic, number one assistant was already cleaning things up. Wearing his polka-dot apron, he vacuumed the floors while dusting the shelves with the duster held in his tail.
An impressive feat, I may have commended him on it if I weren't so irritated.
"Spike!" I yelled over the infernal machine, "What are you doing?"
The dragon glared at me, it probably would have been more effective had his apron not put off his serious demeanor.
"What you told me to do," he answered curtly, "Last night, you were all grumpy and complained that I hadn't cleaned up. I was gonna do it then, but you just went straight to bed."
I grumbled under my breath and trotted downstairs, indifferent to my unmade bed or to Spike's domestic efforts.
"Jeez," he mumbled, "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"
Guilt weighed my shoulders (I should probably get a masseuse for that, I wonder if spa ponies could fix that) and I frowned, "Sorry. I don't mean to be so short with you. I'm just… ugh, too tired."
A partial lie, I was pretty exhausted due to my agitation last night depriving me of sleep.
"It's cool," he dismissively decided, "But, I don't have to clean now, right?"
Smiling, I rolled my eyes and looked at him, "What do you think?"
As he vacuumed – rather indignantly if you ask me; he tried to clean my tail – I went over to the other room and saw the table set already.
A daffodil omelet with toast and orange juice, along with that, the morning paper was there as well.
I only had to glance at the headline, which dropped my jaw.
Colt Curator Taken Into Custody for Fraudulent Museum Pieces.
It went on to explain that Curator was, in fact, faking several pieces in is gallery. One of which was, of course, Princess Platinum's tiara, along with dozens of pieces from her kingdom. After a quick investigation, it came up that he had falsified nearly everything in his museum, just to get money. The museum would, consequently, be closed and further production on it would be halted, perhaps even indefinitely.
The Whitetail Woods would also be spared.
I ran out of the library and raced toward Sugarcube Corner. Thinking back on it, I must've looked silly, running out of the library, mane and tail ruffled, eyes wild, and slightly hungry. I was so frantic, I barely noticed the mare I ran into.
Crashing into her, we both fell to the ground, I had a nasty bump on my head from the impact, and I'm sure the other mare wasn't so well off. When I got back up, I was profusely apologizing for my clumsiness. Then, when I saw her, I blushed, in spite of myself.
Cheerilee sat across from me with a dazed look on her face. She shook her head to rid of the disorientation and when she focused on me, she gave me a sheepish smile.
"Oh my gosh," I gasped, "I'm so, so sorry!"
Running to her, I tried to help her, but the earth pony stood up and looked at me, her brilliant green eyes stared at me with intense focus.
"It's quite alright," she smiled, "But, I must ask; what has you so excited?"
It would be a bit too long to explain, so I gave her the abridged version, "I have to talk to Pinkie Pie, it's very important, and I rushed out a bit too fast."
She laughed, "Pinkie Pie? Party pony?" she mused, "What do you have to talk about with her?"
"U-uh, it's about the, um, you know, near robbery of Princess Platinum's tiara. She solved the case, but-"
"She solved it?" interrupted Cherrilee, "I thought she was just, you know, a party pony."
She must have not heard, which was strange, but understandable to a schoolteacher like her, "Pinkie is a consulting detective, the only one of her kind. She had solved numerous cases, and found out the thief from last night, but the thief… escaped."
"Oh, my, what happened?"
"She just outwitted us. But, you know, we got the tiara back, so, it's technically a victory for us," I hastily explained.
"Right, right," she drifted off, "But, ah, what do you need to talk to Pinkie about then?"
I couldn't tell her about what Rarity said, I had already said too much. Biting my lips, I decided on a course of action.
"Post-case stuff," I said, "You know? Details, you know, whether or not Pinkie wants to take a picture for the paper, commendations, small stuff."
"Ah, I see," she said with a calm smile, "I won't hold you up any longer, though. Give her my regards."
With that clever smile of hers, she walked off. Without thinking too hard about it, I ran off.
Reaching the bakery, I burst through the doors, "Pinkie!" I called out.
But, as I entered, a flying cake nearly took purchase at my head. Dodging the flying deadly sugary object, I heard the cake hitting some poor pony outside.
"Whoops!" Pinkie laughed, behind me, "Are you okay, Twilight?"
Turning, I noticed that Pinkie was covered in flour; her chef's hat crushed slightly, her apron stained with chocolate and an impossibly cheery smile on her face.
It was difficult maintaining a calm demeanor when she smiled at me. It was the type of smile that would melt away any apprehension or fear from your heart, and instantly comfort you. But I was much too frazzled to be affected, snapping out of my Pinkie induced stupor, I walked up to her, cupped her cheeks, and glared into her eyes.
"Pinkie, Rarity's plan worked!" I cried, "The museum would be shut down, she didn't need the tiara or anything from that place. All she needed was to spark interest, and she did just that! By bringing the great detective there to try to catch her! She'd played us, she made you look foolish!"
Pinkie then cupped my own cheeks and grinned, "And?" she asked innocently.
"What do you mean, 'and'? She played you, Pinkie!"
Backing off from me, Pinkie turned around and headed for the counter, discarding her hat and trying to wipe her apron.
"My reputation isn't very important to me," she answered, "It doesn't matter what anypony thinks of me, really. As long as I can help ponies and make them smile, I'll be fine. And besides, isn't it a good thing that the museum will be shut down?"
Tilting my head, I curiously looked at her, "Why?"
"That way, Whitetail Woods would be untouched. It'll stay, perfectly in touch with nature. Just as Rarity had intended, and that doesn't sound too bad. Even if she's a thief, she didn't steal anything, and did a good deed. That's the most I can ask from most ponies."
Her simple and childish explanation made me giggle like a filly. It was just like her to see the good in ponies, even thieves like Rarity.
I managed to finally calm down and realize how ridiculous I looked. Laughing, I sheepishly stared at her, "I, um, look ridiculous, don't I?"
"Hmm," she gave me a clever look, ducked behind the counter, and when she popped back up, she threw a cake at me! It caught me right in the nose, covering my face entirely in messy goo. Pinkie laughed, which was incredibly infectious, and I joined in.
Then, she slammed a chocolate cake into her own face and laughed harder, "Now we both look ridiculous!"
I would have to disagree, however. As the great detective, Pinkamena Diane Pie, and her assistant can never look ridiculous laughing together.