The ground. It didn't taste like cupcakes, worse luck. It didn't taste like any kind of cake, or pie, or Pi for that matter. Although... What does Pi taste like, anyway? Pinkie wondered as she lay there peacefully.
Or not so peacefully.
"You. Crazy. Party. Pony!" Comma screamed, assuming the pony beneath her could not hear unless she did so. "What does it take to make you normal?"
The party pony had no answer. Actually, she did, but it was buried in a long, deep, and tragic backstory, which has been written too many times already and the author does not feel like reiterating here. Backstories... at least she had one. Thinking over her friends, she pitied one of them (no, you buzzards, not going to say which one) who did not. Or Comma, for that matter. Comma Space Writer's Block, who merely existed as an attempt at personification (and boy howdy, Slips, do we love those). But the interlude had gone long enough. It was time for desperate action, and so with an ill-timed ellipses...
She opened her third Pokeball and called upon the spirit of her greatest ally.
“Eee-ooooh-ee-ooooh-oyyyy! Deus Ex Machina! Come to my aid!”
The little guy was there in a heartbeat, leaping over, accidentally misplaced commas and charging-through overuse-of-hyphens. Panting for breath after his near-collision with a derailed thought train, he skidded (skud?) to a halt in front of the grappling duo.
“Heeeeeeeey, Pinkie! What's up? Sorry if I'm a little late; I was busy delivering a Benev-- ohmigosh! Eulalia!” He yammered, spinning in place as he delivered an unfortunate distraction for Comma to jump up and look at. It was super effective. “Sorry, gotta go. Byeeeeee!” He zipped away from the scene, causing the critics to begin typing busily.
The two assailants Looked at each other, determination etched on their faces.
“Uh, Pinkie?” said Comma. “Someone wrote 'determinacian' on your face.”
Pinkie sighed. “Just goes to show ya what happens when you don't have a prereader.”
“Isn't the Author also an editor?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would he need a prereader?”
“Just trust me,” Pinkie said.
“Just trust me,” Pinkie said.
“Ah, got it,” nodded Comma. “So, uh, why does he write fics, again?”
Pinkie stopped, midchew. “OhlookhahaIfoundafunnycatvideolookatthatLOL.” She leaned in close. “Just punch me in the face.”
Comma started. “Why?”
“It's a plot devOW!” The pink pony reeled back, staggering against the creaking walls of the house. Stepping forward, she planted a firm hoofchop in Comma's ribs, then ducked as the retaliatory kick sailed over her head.
“Nice!”
“Thanks!”
They both rushed towards each other, but Pinkie stopped about two metres in front of her opponent and slid (slud?!) underneath, thrusting up with all four legs. Like a watermelon out of a trebuchet, Comma went soaring through the air before slamming into the wall. It crumbled on top of her.
Pinkie laughed. “Haha. You and that phony broken arm.”
Comma's voice floated up, muffled from beneath the wreckage. “H-help mme...”
A strand of character development floated down into the pink pony's eyes; she brushed it away.
“You know you've got me, right? No matter whether or not I help you, it's still gotta be crucial to the plot.” Pinkie snorted in frustration. “What is it, Comma Space Writer's Block? What do you want?”
“Hhhuh? I want you... to help me...”
“I mean, I've gotta say one of two things. It's either 'I-I don't know, Comma.', and then I end up doing it anyway, probably after saying something like 'You hurt me, Comma. More than you'll ever know. But this-- this is what Friendship is all about. It's about helping everypony, even ponies you have every reason to ignore or hate forever. But I... I forgive you, Comma.'”
“Good! Pull me out of here!”
“Huh? Anyway, there's that, but I could also go the road of '#sneer You want me to help you? After everything you did to me? After hurting me the way you did. After lying to me--'”
“Whah? I never lied to--”
“ 'After manipulating me, using me... Yes, that's exactly what you did, Comma.' ”
“Didn't!”
“ 'You used me... I'm sorry, Comma, but I just don't see how I can, hashtag drops head and turns away.'”
“So... you're just going to leave me... COUGH to die here?”
“What? Don't be silly. Come on, grab my hoof and you'll vanish.”
“Oh, thank goodness. For a second there I thought you were going to just--”
“Nice vanish.”
Back in the ruined remains of the House, the Pi still stood untouched. It glowed and shone just as it had before, only reserving even a brighter sheen still, if that were possible. Pinkie trotted over to it, smiling faintly at its glow and wishing she could stay there forever. The Pi... the Pi was forever. The Pi knew everything. The Pi was All. The Pi was...
The Pi... the Pi... thePi.
(((<<O>>)))
So, that's The Pi, my first of probably many veeeeeery random short stories. Comment, rate and subohwhatever. Thanks for reading, and be sure to--
Hey, Squiddy.
Oh crud Who let you in?
Let me in where? We did-- I'm you, remember?
Yeah, I'm still not totally sold on that.
Well anyway, I just wanted to remind all you lovely gents and ladies to read something of quality as a nice change from this loser.
Hey! You can't insult me like that! Only I can insult--
Eeeeeeexactly. Anyway, go read The Big Payback, by Gluefactory, because honestly, it just hasn't had enough love. Do it. Do it now.
Yeeahhh... I was going to say that anyway. So, uh, make sure to do that. Thanks, and I'll see you in whatever piece of tortoise I “write” next. Catch you later, everypony.
--Squiddy
--Squiddy
Hey!