((Prompt: Who is Pinkie Pie, really?))
Who are you?
How can I ever answer that question, Pinkie? You are so many things, so terribly many things all at once, and I don't think I could ever say them all.
You are loud. Not just in your voice, but in everything about you. You eat loud, you walk loud, you live loud. Every moment with you is a lesson in just how noisy life can be. You are a one mare marching band trampling through my head. I can't hear myself think when you're near me. I can't hear myself think when I think of you.
And yes, that makes you obnoxious. There, I said it, you are obnoxious, Pinkie Pie. I can't handle you and all of your parties and your games and your jokes and all your noise. I am just not made for the kind of fun you bring. I am a peaceful, quiet pony, and you come in here turning everything upside down and sometimes, I'm sorry, I just wish you would leave me alone.
But you are stubborn. Celestia, but you are stubborn, Pinkie Pie. I would say you're as stubborn as Applejack, but truth be told, I think you're even worse than her when you get your mind set on something. You get an idea in your head, and there is just never any going back from there. When the world according to Pinkie Pie is different from the world according to the world, it isn't ever you who bends first. You'll bounce all the way to Tartarus and back to get your way, and you'll have that grin on your face the whole time. Chances are, you'll drag me with you the whole way, whether I want to come or not.
I am afraid of you, Pinkie Pie. I never know for sure what to expect from you, and it scares me. Will the 'surprise' you say you have for me be a new tea set, or an adventure to some volcano lair? When you say you want to do something for me, do you mean hatching scorpion eggs or a kiss on the cheek? I can't tell, you're always smiling one way or the other.
But maybe I need that uncertainty in my life. While I've never been able to guess what comes next, the one reliable constant is that it's always been for the better. Surprises can be startling, but at least with you, they're always pleasant surprises.
And you work so hard to make them that way. You never stop, you never give up until you've put a smile on my face. Even if it takes a trip to Tartarus and back to do it.
For every time I've ever wished you weren't at my side, I've been ten times as glad that you were. You do for my life what I would never be brave enough to do for myself. Without you there to pester me, drag me to parties and make me have a good time, I would surely close myself off and hide in my little cottage by the woods. You open me up and let me actually live my life.
I need your noise. You are loud, and it makes up for my silence. We make a beautiful duet, you and I. Cacophony and quiet.
Who are you, Pinkie Pie? The answer to that is so very complicated, and yet really, so simple.
You are the mare I lov—
“Fluttershy? Are you alright?”
“Hm? Oh, I'm fine, Pinkie. Why do you ask?”
“'Cause I said something, and then you just kinda stared off into space for a few minutes.”
“Oh. I'm sorry, Pinkie. What was it you said?”
“Oh nothing. I was just being silly. I said, 'Who do you think I am?'”
“I think you're Pinkie Pie. And that's all I ever need you to be.”