The Hostess

by Gaekub


Chapter 2

Chapter 2
996 CE (Four years before the return of Nightmare Moon)

Two ponies stand at the edge of the Everfree Forest; one a brown stallion with a stunned look and an hourglass cutie mark, the other a pink mare with a golden watch and balloons on her flank. At the moment, the mare was attempting to pick up a golden watch.

“Damnit. Damnit. DAMNIT. How do you carry things with these hooves?” She asked the stallion, exasperated.

“Er… we use our mouths, usually. Unless you’re a unicorn.” He replied.

She clearly found that idea distasteful. “With your mouth? That hardly seems sanitary.” Despite her words, she leaned down and grabbed the watch in her mouth, and then jerked her head towards the stallion. “Howd on. Did you jush shay ‘unicon’?”

“Yeah, unicorn. Are you not from around here?”

She giggled at that. “No, vewy mucsh not. And theshe uniconsh, they ushe theiw hownsh to liff thingsh?”

“No, their magic.”

She stared at him.

“Look, what the hay is going on? Who are you? What’s in the box? What is the box? What was that monkey thing? Where did it go and where did you come from?” he demanded.

She responded by spitting the watch at him. “I’ll tell you, but you have to carry my stuff. My mouth only does one thing at once. Follow me.” She turned and walked towards the box.

He grabbed the watch and followed her, avoiding the hottest flames. Already he could see the Everfree Forest reacting to the fire, starting to put it out. It hadn’t lasted for a thousand years by being easy to burn down.

The pink pony said “To answer your questions, in order: I’m running, the Hostess, a lot of things, a TARDIS, me, nowhere, and Gallifrey.” and then trotted into the box.

John galloped after her. “Waid, can you repead tha…” his voice faltered as he jumped through the door, skidding to a halt. The box may have the size of a closet on the outside, but the inside was huge. Just this one room was larger than his home, and he could see more doors then he could count coming off it. In the centre stood a raised platform, and in the centre of that a huge clear cylinder reached the ceiling. The watch clattered to the floor.

The pink pony sighed and turned back to him “Alright, don’t say anything. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, yes?”

“Ye-“ a pink hoof silenced him.

“No talking. Just nod.”

He nodded.

“Alright. I’m only going to say this once, so you need to listen. Ready?”

He nodded.

The pink pony took a deep breath, larger then John imagined a pony of that size could hold, and then began talking.

“For starters I’m not a pony; I’m actually a Time Lord which is a species from Gallifrey. It doesn’t matter where that is, it’s far away. My name is the Hostess. No that’s not my real name, I chose it. No I won’t tell you my real name; it’s a Time Lord thing. Time Lords can regenerate when they die, taking on the appearance of the dominant species in that locale. It’s a survival instinct. That monkey thing was me, than I regenerated; now this is me. Don’t worry about it. This is my transportation, it’s called a TARDIS, it’s very complicated. No, I won’t explain how it works. Yes, the inside is bigger than the outside, don’t let it bother you. I don’t know it’s exact size, but it’s large enough to get lost in, so don’t wander off. It’s broken from the crash; it crashed because it was shot. I’m being chased by some other aliens that I can’t let catch me. They’re the ones who shot me and my TARDIS. Which is why I’m going to use this watch. I can hide the Time Lord-ness in it and make myself a normal pony so they can’t find me. At least not easily. I’m going to hook myself up to a machine and it’s going to hurt, and then I won’t remember being a Time Lord, and you’ll have to take the watch and make me open it if anyone else shows up like I did and ponies start disappearing. Problem is, I’m not done regenerating, and no Time Lord has ever tried disguising in the middle of a regeneration cycle, so I might die. Any questions?”

All of that was said on one breath, getting quieter and quieter until the last few sentences were little more than a wheeze. The Hostess stared at John, daring him to ask any questions.

John was smart enough to read between the lines. “No questions… er… Hostess”.

She grinned the word ‘wonderful’ before stumbling sideways to lean on a railing. A pained expression crossed her face as another stream of golden smoke wormed its way out of her mouth.

“Is that… normal?” John asked, worried.

With a grunt of effort, she heaved herself to the base of the central pillar. A set of switches, dials and buttons circled it. “I thought you said you didn’t have any more questions? But yes, it is. Don’t worry about it.” She reared back on her hind legs, front hooves hovering over the controls. She sighed. “What you should worry about, however, is how I’m supposed to use these controls.”

John retrieved the watch from the floor and trotted next to the annoyed mare. “Wew, if it were me…” he said around the watch.

“Yes, yes, I know. Use my mouth. I just really hoped you had another suggestion.” She lowered herself back onto all fours, and began flicking switches with her teeth and pushing buttons with her snout.

John spat the watch onto an empty part of the control panel. “Why are you worried? It’s your… box, don’t you know where all this stuff has been?”

She paused in her task to give him a flirtatious smile. “That’s exactly why I’m worried, my dear.”

John blushed. The words weren’t particularly scandalous; it was the way she said. Completely confident and self-aware, as if she’d said much worse in the past, and would do so in the future.

She flicked one last switch, and then leaned past him to grab the watch. She trotted over to a device he hadn’t noticed before. A chair, oddly cushiony, sat off to the side of the room. A metal pole sprouted from its back, arching over the headrest. Two discs, a similar size and shape as the watch, dangled on cords from the pole. She pushed the watch into a slot clearly designed for it, and then set about making herself comfortable in the chair.

“Alright, here’s what I need you to do. I’m going to scream a lot in a sec, I need you not to freak out. Actually, just don’t freak out until I tell you otherwise. Standing order. Anyway, assuming I survive the procedure, I won’t remember any of this, so I’ll need you to take the watch and hide it somewhere safe. Take me, and help me set up my life. My mind will come up with a past for me, so just act like I’m new in town and it should work out. Oh, and normally my TARDIS would take care of itself, but it’s too damaged. If you could find someplace to hide it, that would be great. Thank you so much for doing all this for me.” She smiled, disguising the order as gratitude.

John felt a flash of anger at her assumption he would do all that. She was acting like she owned him. He almost stormed out, but stopped himself. Something told him he had to help this mysterious mare, so if he stormed out, he’d just end up slinking back in. No point degrading himself even more.

There was one eventuality she hadn’t covered. “And… what if you don’t make it?” John forced out.

She became serious. “If I don’t survive, I need you to burn the body. It’s a very important Time Lord thing. Can you handle that?”

He swallowed and nodded.

The Hostess brought the two dangling disks over her ears. They stuck in place like suction cups. “Alright, and remember. When peo - ponies start disappearing, bring me the watch. I may not want to open it, but you have to make me. That’ll bring me – the real me, not the pony – back. Promise?”

“Promise.” He replied.

“Great.” A shaky smile crept onto her face. Her hoof found its way to the large lever next to the chair, but paused before pushing it. “I never actually asked, did I. What would your name be?”

“John Smith”

She looked surprised for a second, then thoughtful, then slid back into that nervous smile. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you John.”

The Hostess pulled the lever.

Screams filled the night air.


1002 CE (2 years after the return of Princess Luna)

Twilight Sparkle closed her mouth. Then she opened it again. Then closed it again.

Both earth ponies stared at her, waiting patiently for her thoughts to organize. John idly thought that while she seemed to be very intelligent, she was intelligent like a freight train. She could probably solve any problem she focused on, but it she appeared to have some trouble changing mental tracks.

“Buh, I… what?” Twilight stammered.

Suspicions confirmed, John thought.

Twilight finally settled on “Pinkie Pie, what is going on?” as the most likely to produce results, and said it.

The pink mare stared at her, and then rounded on John. “Pinkie Pie? You let me name myself Pinkie Pie!?”

John stared back, confused “Er… yes? Actually, I think your name was technically Pinkamena Diane Pie, but you just went by Pinkie Pie. Why, is there something wrong with it?”

The Hostess looked from Twilight to John “Neither of you think that name is strange?”

They shook their heads.

“Hold on, I think I’m missing some context. So we’ve got a John Smith, “ She pointed at the brown stallion “And what’s your name?” she asked Twilight.

“Pinkie, c’mon. You know me.” She paused, and a pleading note infected her voice “Twilight Sparkle?”

The Hostess stifled a laugh “Twilight Sparkle? Your name is Twilight Sparkle. Alright. So, names are a little more freeform here. I can deal with that. It was nice to meet you, Twilight Sparkle” She turned and walked towards the door, and John followed her.

Twilight stared at her disappearing friend. “Pinkie, what… you don’t remember me?” Her voice began to crack. “You’re just… leaving?”

The pink pony let out a heavy sigh. She turned back to the unicorn standing in the doorway. “My name isn’t Pinkie Pie. I’m the Hostess. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. Your friend is gone. I’m sorry, goodbye.”

She turned and trotted out the door, speaking to John. “Alright, I can’t walk around naked. We’re going to Rarity’s first, and then we’ll… go investigate the disappearance site, I suppose. I’ve never done anything like this before. An old friend of mine used to do this sort of thing all the time. Thrived off it. But I never real-“

Twilight interrupted her with a hurt shout “Oh, so you remember Rarity, but not me? Am I the only one you forgot?”

The Hostess turned back to her, exasperated “I assure you, I don’t know anypony but John here. I’ve never heard of this ‘Rarity’”.

Twilight stood speechless, shocked by the blatant lie. She has just said her name, and now she was denying it.

John cocked his head at the Hostess. He knew Rarity designed clothing, and was a friend of Pinkies, but that was about it. “You don’t know Rarity?” He asked.

“Of course not” she replied, trotting on her way.

John considered his words carefully before speaking. “…Hostess, where are we going?”

“Is no one listening? I’m going to get some clothes from Rarity, now…”Her voice faltered as seemed to hear herself talk. “Rarity… white unicorn with a purple elegantly styled mane. Fashion designer. Close friend” She said, as if she was reading the description out of a book. “Oh dear. That’s not supposed to happen.”

Twilight hadn’t thought it was possible, but now she was even more confused. Was Pinkie confessing to the lie? Was she trying to cover it up? She didn’t know how to react, so she just stood in the doorway to Sugarcube Corner mutely. At least she remembered to keep her muzzle closed this time.

John spoke gently, as to an upset friend. “What’s not supposed to happen, Hostess?”

“Memories are leaking over from Pinkie. And not nicely either, they’re coming in bursts, and then they disappear. I don’t have any idea who -“ her face scrunched up in thought “- Rarity is unless I think about clothes. Related memories and all that. Damnit.”

A gasp was let out at the sound of the swear, but both Twilight and John were silent. All three ponies looked towards the source, only then noticing that their conversation seemed to have drawn some attention.
A loose ring of ponies surrounded the trio, watching. They all knew about Pinkie, and figured this was just more of her typical entertaining antics. The source of the gasp was a middle aged mare with her hooves over a foals ears. She was glaring at the Hostess.

John leaned towards the offender and whispered “That’s kind of a bad word Hostess. I’d avoid using it”

“Extremely low tolerance for swearing. Interesting.” The mare murmured, and then raised her voice to normal speaking levels “Alright, well, I suppose we should get going.” She said, walking away very calmly, followed by John.

Twilight sat down heavily on the doorstep. Her friend was gone. That was it. And she’d have to tell all their friends, and –Oh no, the Cakes, they’d need to know. She was interrupted from her deepening thoughts by that strange voice the Hostess had, like a grown up Pinkie.

“That ‘we’ included you, Miss Sparkle. If you wish to come, that is.”


The Hostess was frustrated. This white unicorn (that a back corner of her brain insisted was Rarity) seemed to be patronizing her.

“Of COURSE your name is The Hostess dear. Whatever you say Pinkie. I’m sorry, I mean The Hostess.”

“No, when you’re talking to me, you just call me Hostess.”

“Of course, very sorry dear. Now I am rather busy, is there something I can do for you?”

The Hostess decided that this pony just didn’t quite understand. “Your friend Pinkie Pie is gone and she’s never coming back. I’m her now.”

Rarity didn’t even blink “Dear, I really don’t have time for this. Is there any reason you can’t go tell Rainbow about your new name?”

“No! You don’t call me dear! I call people dear!” The Hostess was becoming annoyed. This pony WAS patronizing her! Patronizing was the Hostesses job.

The sudden outburst finally drew a reaction from Rarity, a shocked look that the Hostess enjoyed more then she should. “Is everything alright Pinkie dear?” She asked, concerned.

The Hostess slumped. She didn’t even bother correcting her this time. “I need some clothes, and I was wondering if you had some I could borrow.”

Rarity’s face lit up, concern forgotten “Of course dear! Now what kind of dress are you looking for? What sort of event is it for?”

“No, no. Not a dress, I plan on running in this. Quite a bit, most likely. And it’s just for wearing around, nothing special.”

Rarity stared at her, a strange look on her face. “Dear, if you’re not going somewhere, why do you need some clothes? And what if not a dress? I suppose I could make you a saddle, but they’ve been out of style for years.”

The Hostess decided to ignore the first question. She wasn’t quite sure of the answer herself, she just knew she didn’t want to walk around naked. “Well, I was thinking I could get some pants.” She deadpanned.

“Pans? How can you wear pans?”

“No, not pans. Pants. With a t. P-a-n-t-s.”

“...What are pants?” Rarity asked blankly.

The Hostess laughed. Rarity didn’t.

“You’re serious?” The earth pony asked.

The unicorn nodded, looking concerned again.

“Okay, well… they’re these tubes of cloth that you put over your legs, and then-“ She twisted her neck to point at her own legs as an example, but stopped speaking when she noticed a mark on her flank. “Oh dear lord I got a tattoo. I am going to kill John.” She said, her voice inflectionless.

Rarity seemed to be as surprised as she was. “You did? Where? …And why is John responsible?” The final question was said in a very specific way that said the asker thought she knew the answer, but hoped she didn’t.

“It’s right here!” Said the Hostess, pointing at the three balloons.

That same concerned look again. “That’s your cutie mark dear. Everypony has one.”

The Hostess paused. She remembered noting that John had an hourglass on his flank, but she hadn’t commented. And now that she thought about it, Twilight had had a star on her. She craned her neck, and saw three diamonds in the same place on Rarity. The Hostess suddenly became very aware of Rarity’s stare.

“AHAHAHAHA!” The Hostess laughed. “Oh silly old Pinkie Pie, forgetting stuff all the time. Nothing to worry about. Now, about those pants…” She turned back to her flank, and examined her legs. She had a brief vision of trying to fit pants over the hooves, and the strange backwards knees. “Err… maybe not, actually. A top will do. Now, let me tell you what I used to wear…”


Twilight and John stood outside the boutique. The Hostess had asked them to wait outside after Rarity had greeted her friends and been introduced to John. She seemed to have some strange ideas about clothing; first she insisted on getting some, then she insisted on being alone while choosing it.

“So… John Smith is an interesting name. Where are you from?” Twilight asked, breaking the awkward silence that had descended over them.

John arched an eyebrow “Really? After everything that’s happened, you don’t ask me about the Hostess, or Pinkie Pie, or the watch, you ask me about my name?”

“I’m working up to it” Twilight replied huffily.

The stallion just shrugged. “I’m from the north. We all have names like that up there. Honestly, all your names still kind of weird me out. I mean, no offense, but you just seem to take two words and stick them together.”

Twilight let out a forced, but genuine, laugh. “I guess it does sound a little strange when you put it like that.”

There were several more minutes of silence, words drifting out from the open window of the boutique. The Hostess and Rarity seemed to be having some sort of argument, but the words were too muffled to understand anything specific.

John broke the silence this time “So do you want to know about the bigger stuff?”

Twilight laughed again. “I guess that would be a good idea. Whatever happened to Pinkie, it didn’t improve her communication skills.” She let out a nervous giggle at her own joke.

John chuckled along with her, mentally noting that Twilight laughed when under stress. “Well, the thing is, nothing really happened to her. She was always the Hostess, she just… forgot about it. Sort of. It’s complicated, and I don’t really understand it.”

John gave her the quick version of that night six years ago, focused mostly on the parts about forgetting who she was. Once he had finished, Twilight just stared at him. He began to become uncomfortable under her gaze, looking everywhere but her eyes. He was just studying an ant that was climbing up the side of the boutique when she spoke.

“I’m not saying I believe you. It’s very hard to take you seriously. But if you are telling the truth, then Pinkie Pie never existed? She was… what, a figment of this Hostesses imagination?”

John grimaced. “I don’t think that’s quite it. The impression I got is that Pinkie was… what she would have been if she was born a pony? Does that make sense?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “I guess. She seems… older though.”

“She could be. I have no idea how old she is.”

More silence.

“I wonder if the Hostess makes up songs like Pinkie did.” Twilight mused.

John smiled “She made songs? I never heard her do that.”

Twilight giggled to herself, as if at a funny memory “Yeah. There was this one where…”


The Hostess and Rarity stood back from the modeling dummy they had been working on. Pinned to it, in several parts, was the garment the Hostess had described.

“What do you think?” asked the fashionista.

“Hm. I think it’s as close as possible. I was a different shape when I wore it before.” The Hostess mused. Rarity didn’t react to the non-sequiter. The Hostess had figured out that she could say pretty much anything she wanted, and the unicorn wouldn’t say anything.

“Wonderful. All that’s left to decide the color. Pink, I would imagine?” Rarity asked, going to her fabric closet.

“Pink? No thank you.” The Hostess said. A wordless voice spoke up from the back of her head, disagreeing. “A simple dignified black and white” The voice spoke louder.

Rarity looked back at her. “You’re sure? No pink at all?”

The Hostess was doing her best to ignore the dissenting thoughts that streamed from her subconscious. “No thank you.”

“Absolutely none?”

The Hostesses mouth formed around an irritable ‘no’, but she staggered when the voice in her head redoubled in strength. “Fine. Just a little pink” she said through gritted teeth. As soon as the words left her lips, the thoughts disappeared.

As Rarity set about making the garment (“A matter of minutes dear, just wait in that chair”), the Hostess sat down and directed her thoughts inward.

Don’t think this sets a precedent, she thought fiercely at the darker corners of her mind, My mind is not a democracy.

A returning giggle informed her that if she didn’t want her mind to be a democracy, maybe she shouldn’t have put someone else in it.

The Hostess cursed under her breath as she waited for the garment.


The door of the boutique swung open with a jingle, interrupting Twilight.

“Shh, shh, here she comes” John whispered.

The Hostess stepped out dramatically. Decorating her top half was a light pink dress shirt with a black vest overlaying it. The chain of the watch dangled out of one of the pockets, and snaked into another. A darker pink loose bowtie, almost a red, fastened the shirt together at the neck.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Twilight and John both burst out laughing.

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.” The Hostess insisted.

“No, no no no. We’re not laughing at the vest” John chocked, wiping a tear from his eye as he held in the laughter “I was just telling Twilight that you’re really not an Evil Enchantress, and she should just learn to Giggle at the Ghostie”

Twilight’s face was similarly twisted as she held in her outburst “And I was saying that maybe, to relax, we should just go make some Cupcakes. I know a great recipe.”

They looked at each other, and then fell over laughing.

“We don’t have time to make cupcakes. What are you two talking about?”

Through her laughter, Twilight managed to say “Now now Hostess, You’ve Got To Care-“

“-You’ve Got To Share!” finished John, setting off a new round of laughter.

The Hostess glared at them. She was in a bad mood. First she had to deal with Rarity, then her tattoo, then she found out Pinkie was still hanging around in her head, and now they were laughing about something she didn’t understand. To make it worse, her mind kept playing clips of music she didn’t recognize. She suspected it had something to with this joke she wasn’t in on.

On the other hand, she found the laughter strangely uplifting. She couldn’t bring herself to interrupt it. She had a feeling that was more of Pinkie’s influence, but she sat down to wait for it to die out of its own accord anyway.


Meanwhile, at Sugarcube Corner, the door hung open revealing an empty shop. Several ponies trotted in, rang the bell, and then left a few minutes later. The Cakes were out, so there was nopony to answer. Of course, nopony even thought about stealing. Crime was nearly unheard of in Ponyville, and besides, everypony liked the Cakes. In fact, it probably would have been an uneventful (if unprofitable) day, if three particular fillies hadn’t shown up.

Discovering that the store was empty, it was decided that they would take charge and guard it from thieves. And if they were doing that, they might as well sell some things, right? And if they’re selling things, they should probably make things to replace them, right?

An excited cheer drifted out the door “Cutie Mark Crusader Shop Keepers! Yay!”