A Party For All Ages

by PropdowPony

Pinkie's Best Idea Ever

At the dawn of pony, some scholars claim, before language, before magic, predators could be lurking anywhere. Sabre-toothed felines, proto-manticores, and dragons of untold size struck terror into the hearts of neighanderthals as they migrated through the primordial jungles and humid savannas in search of food and shelter. These primitive ponies followed their instinct to herd, to always keep together, to keep eyes in every direction. Safety in numbers. Nopony goes wandering off on their own.

This urge to gather together, to keep to the herd, followed the pony though every stage of its development throughout history. Perhaps the ponies’ inclination towards friendship can be traced back to this peculiar impulse to gather together in spontaneous groups. It’s just, as these same scholars with the tweed jackets say, in their nature.
 
Is there any truth to this evolutionary explanation? Not even Celestia knows for sure. But it’s easy to see a demonstration of the herding gene at work in the little town of Ponyville. An impromptu crowd can appear at any time for any reason. Be it a gardening expo, another bland speech given by Mayor Mare, a loud argument over prices at an alfalfa market stand, or an infestation of property-devouring parasprites, Ponyvillians can be counted on with a minute’s notice to end up shoulder-to-shoulder and craning their necks to see whatever it is that catches their collective fancy. (Except, of course, the pegasi, whose ancient inclination is more accurately to swarm.)

On this particular Friday afternoon, the daily crowd filled up Marigold Park to watch the last few ponies deposit small objects into a short wooden crate. Mayor Mare decreed that anypony could donate just about anything they wanted, so long as it didn’t exceed certain size and weight requirements. The gray-maned bureaucrat herself beamed from a nearby dias which was decorated with bunting and streamers for the occasion, because that’s the sort of thing you do. Alongside her stood Princess Twilight Sparkle, who privately wished she could just mingle with the crowd. But her new title required her to be present in an official capacity, crown and all. Nevertheless, she smiled broadly; this project was her idea, after all.

Rarity had placed in the crate a quartz-studded scarf of her own design, embroidered with a cursive “R.” Applejack donated a copy of her photograph of the entire Apple family gathered in front of Sweet Apple Acre’s newly re-raised barn. With some reluctance, Rainbow Dash parted with a poster of a Fillydelphia Wonderbolt show from three years ago. Fluttershy's offering was an album filled with pictures of all her animal friends; it almost exceeded the weight limit.

The end of the queue had come and gone, which prompted a brief round of hoof-stomping applause. Mayor Mare took that as her cue to step up to the podium.

“Citizens of Ponyville, Princess Twilight Sparkle and I would like to thank you all for your generous contributions to our town’s first time capsule! When it is opened again in one hundred years, I am certain that our esteemed descendants will learn much about Ponyville’s wonderful accomplishments. Seeing you all here today reminds me of a story of when I was a filly...”
The citizenry took this as their cue to tune the Mayor out and chat amongst themselves. Twilight quietly stepped down from the platform and joined her friends. Two work stallions wearing unnecessary hard hats and orange vests approached the crate with hammers and nails.
Applejack scanned the crowd with a concerned look. Rainbow alighted next to her and grinned, reading her mind.
“Hey, AJ, I bet if I ask where she is, she’ll appear in, like, five seconds or less.”
“What, again? No way!”
“Two bits.”
“Yer on.”
        Each of them spat on a hoof and bumped them together. Rainbow hovered above the others and cleared her throat.
        “Hey, guys, has anypony seen Pinkie Pie?”
        Fluttershy and Rarity exchanged a puzzled look. Twilight took a breath to answer in the negative.
        “Waaaaaaaaaait!” came a rapidly-approaching high-pitched cry. The crowd parted and a pink shape plowed through, skidding to a halt in front of the crate and resolving into a panting Element of Laughter.
        There was the sound of a groan, a raspy chuckle, and the clinking of coins.
        “Whew, made it!” gasped Pinkie. “Sorry, I’m...late...but the...letterpress...was harder...to use...than I...thought!” She leaned against the box to catch her breath, fanning herself with one forehoof while holding up a pink envelope in the other.
        Rarity took the envelope with her magic. It read “You’re invited!” in fancy gold script on the front. She pulled a card out, opened it, and read it aloud to the others:

        “And you’re all invited, too, of course,” said Pinkie, hugging all five of her friends simultaneously, “I was going to make each of you an invitation of your own, but I ran out of time.”
        Applejack pulled herself free first.
        “A party for who now?” she said, squinting at the invitation.
        “It’s lovely,” said Rarity, handing the card to Applejack. “I especially like the silver-gilt border. But...are you serious about this?”
        Rainbow flapped over Applejack, scrutinizing Pinkie’s hoofiwork, the corner of her mouth quivering with the suppression of a belly-laugh.
        “I know I only gave myself a week to get everything ready,” said Pinkie, “but I just couldn’t wait any longer. This is the best idea ever!” She bounced to an impressive height.
        “But, um,” said Fluttershy, scooting aside just before Pinkie could land on her, “what made you think of...having a party...for...?”
        “‘Ponies of the Future’?” snerked Rainbow, handing the card to Twilight.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” said the newest princess.
“Well, the other day, I was waiting for a batch of apple cinnamon brownies to finish baking,” said Pinkie, recounting the story in a tone normally reserved for recounting legends of ancient times, “and I saw the latest edition of the Ponyville Express sitting on the counter that Mr. Cake had been reading, and I looked and there was the headline about the time capsule, and I read the article and the part about it being buried for a hundred years, and I thought about the future and how the ponies there must be flying around in rocket ships and hoverbikes, and boldly partying where nopony has partied before, and then I thought about the time when Twilight went back in time to meet Twilight --”
Twilight, for her part, did not roll her eyes or put a hoof to her face. She settled on a barely-noticeable blush, a headshake, and a smirk. That was the kind of serenity that princesses strived for.
“-- and I thought, well, the future must be just full of ponies who can travel through time!”
Rainbow plopped to the ground and started giggling uncontrollably, then stopped abruptly when Applejack gave her a firm poke in the ribs.
“I jus’ don’t know, Pinkie,” said the cowpony, “is this really what you wanna donate to the time capsule? Wouldn’t ya rather give somethin’ more...personal?” She couldn’t help but notice that the workponies were standing close by with their forelegs crossed and frowning.
“Future ponies sound scary,” said Fluttershy, wringing her forehooves. “What if ponies aren’t very...friendly in the future?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” said Twilight. A pause followed, in which Twilight was met with surprised looks.
“You do?” asked Rarity.
“Sure. If there’s one thing Pinkie wants to be remembered for, it’s being the greatest party host in Ponyville. What better legacy can she leave behind than an invitation like this?”
The purple alicorn nuzzled Pinkie. The others looked at each other, shrugging and nodding; there was certainly no arguing with that.
“Any excuse for a Pinkie party sounds delightful to me,” agreed Rarity.
“Sounds like a real hoot,” said Applejack.
“Oh, why not?” said Rainbow Dash. “I guess it’s no crazier than last month’s Leap Day Spectacular when she invited all those frogs.”
“The frogs had a blast,” remembered Fluttershy.
Twilight magically returned the card to its envelope and levitated it carefully into the crate with the other trinkets. She gave the workponies a nod, who responded with a half-hearted bow, and lifted the lid onto the crate.
“...and so,” concluded the Mayor, “I hereby dedicate this time capsule to the hardworking citizens of Ponyville, and to our greatest patron, Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
A polite smattering of applause emanated from what remained of the crowd; most had wandered off halfway through the Mayor’s tangent about how she got her cutie mark. Twilight just smiled and waved.
Only the Mayor, the princess, and her friends stuck around to watch the workponies hammer the crate shut and push it into the large gleaming steel cylinder. It took three of them to secure the lid, which had a plaque bolted to its face that read:

Applejack helped the workers lower the cylinder into the ground, grunting with effort around the rope in her teeth. The pulleys squeaked under the strain, guiding the ropes from which the unwieldy capsule hung. Rainbow yawned wide. She said her goodbyes and flew off before the metal tube hit bottom. Rarity and Fluttershy did the same, waving and trotting off to find lunch. Applejack fetched a spade and assisted with the burial, easily keeping pace with the sweating stallions until only the plaque remained visible. They could almost sense the capsule settling in for a long slumber next to the granite statue of a smiling, rearing, long-forgotten mare probably born before the founding of Ponyville.
Pinkie Pie, in an amazing feat of patience, had stayed until the end of the ceremony, beaming the whole time, until anticipation practically seeped from her party pores. Then she shook Applejack’s right hoof and Twilight’s right wing before bounding away like a cheetah in the direction of Sugarcube Corner, visions of hoverbikes dancing in her head.
Applejack tipped her hat back and leaned on her shovel, watching Pinkie disappear down the road. She caught sight of Twilight’s smirk as she magicked the crown from her head.  
“You know somethin’ I don’t, Twi? Ain't she gonna be disappointed?”
“I know Pinkie. She’ll be just fine.”

The following Friday, the setting sun cast long shadows on the road behind Roseluck as she followed her sisters into the square. She still had one of the fliers Pinkie had nailed and pasted on nearly every available surface, including the side of her house. She glanced at it once more; it showed a picture of the town hall with a pair of rocket ships streaking away on either side and a cartoony flying saucer zipping by above the roof. It announced in a bold, ostentatious comic-book-cover font:
TIME TRAVELLERS’ PARTY! TONIGHT AT 5!
Town hall itself soon came into view. Not a single rocket ship or flying saucer in sight, but the windows glowed with flashing colors, and Rose could already feel the thumping of festive bass.
The flower trio stepped through the open doors, the sound of techno fully enveloping them. They gawked at the mass of ponies, some carrying drinks in plastic cups and shouting over the din, others jumping and dancing in front of the stage where head-bobbing Vinyl Scratch had set up her wub-station of turntables and monolithic Mareshall speakers. Magic-imbued lighting instruments swung and pivoted madly around her, painting the walls and high ceiling in a frenzy of dazzling reds, greens, and blues.
Long tables had been set up with bowls of punch of every flavor imaginable, and possibly some unimaginable ones. Other tables bore chips, dips, little cucumber sandwiches with happy little colorful toothpicks stuck in them, and a towering, ten-level cake covered in gummy bears, strawberries, and bright pink frosting, which leaned precariously to one side.
Three banners of impressive size hung from the upper balconies. The ones on the side proclaimed:
  

while the largest one, stretched across the width of the hall, warmly read:
        

        Rose leaned in close to Lily’s ear.
        “So are there really supposed to be ponies from the future here?” she shouted.
        Before Lily could answer, the hostess emerged from the mob, leaping right over Daisy’s head. She wore glowing plastic rings around her neck and forehooves, and was handing each of them a cup of punch. Her pet alligator Gummy rode on her poofy mane, wearing a tiny space helmet. He stared at them wall-eyed and gnawed on her party hat.
        “Not yet!” she shouted. “Our special guests won’t be arriving until seven o’clock! In the meantime, there’s still plenty of goodies for grubbin’ and grooves for moovin’! Have some Ultra-Lemony Lemon, Lime, and Lemon punch! Enjoy!"
        Pinkie winked at them and blended back into the party.
        Rose took an experimental sip of her punch. She shuddered as her lips tried to turn inside out.
        “Wow, that’s tart,” she managed.
About thirty minutes later, Rarity finally caught up to Pinkie, who was arranging custom-made sticker name badges in neat rows on the table next to the chocolate fountain. Each badge read:

followed by a blank, then:

followed by another blank.
        Rarity wore a silvery sequined gown which twinkled under the ballyhooing party light. Much to her delight, it had caught the eye of everypony around her, but now she took advantage in a lull in the music to speak with Pinkie.
        “So how are you, darling? Everything going according to plan?”
        “Oh, yesserie, even better than to plan!” chirped Pinkie. Gummy draped himself over her back, somehow able to doze off in spite of the cacophony. Rarity rested a hoof on the hostesses’ shoulder.
        “Once again, I’m terribly sorry that Twilight couldn’t be here.”
        Pinkie’s party smile slipped just a bit, and for a moment she stared off into space. Then she sighed and patted Rarity’s hoof.
        “Aw, it’s alright. It’s not her fault she had to go to a peak in Saddle Arabia.”
        “You mean, a summit?” Rarity asked gently.
        “Yeah, that too. But Twilight’s a princess and that means she has lots of big responsibilities.”
        “You know she’d be here if she could.”
        The music started up again, a lively, bouncing tune.
        “Oh, totally. It’s okay,” shouted Pinkie. “I’m gonna save her some cake and take some pictures and tell her all about it when she gets back on Monday! That’ll be super!”
        Rarity felt a pang of affection for her friend, never failing to be amazed by Pinkie's perpetual optimism. She watched as Applejack bent backwards to negotiate a limbo stick being held by Fluttershy and Bon Bon. Applejack almost cleared the bar with ease until her hat fell off and she lost her balance trying to catch it, landing flat on her back, laughing all the way. Above Rarity’s head, Rainbow Dash danced as only a pegasus could, rolling and shuffling this way and that in mid-air surrounded by clapping, whistling weather ponies.
        It really didn’t matter why they were here, thought Rarity. It only matters that Pinkie’s having a party.
        
        The music faded into silence in mid-song, and the sound of a hoof tapping a microphone reverberated around the hall. The lights stopped flashing, replaced by soft white lights. Everypony turned to face Pinkie who had mounted the stage, bathed in a spotlight.
        “Alright, ponies!” she shouted gleefully into the mike, causing a whine of feedback. Vinyl at her station grimaced and turned a couple of knobs.
        “The big moment is finally here! Our guests of honor will be arriving in -- “ She craned her neck to look up at the big clock, illuminated by another spot.
        “-- twenty seconds! Let’s give ‘em all a big Ponyville welcome!”
        There was a moment’s hesitation while the crowd collectively realized what she was talking about. Then they clapped, and even offered a couple of obligatory catcalls.
        Her fellow Elements of Harmony gathered near the foot of the stage. Rarity thought it would be a good idea for them to be nearby, as a show of support.
        “Well...here goes nothing,” whispered Rainbow.
        “Shush,” hissed Rarity.
        Pinkie nodded to Vinyl, who pressed a button. A drumroll sounded over the speakers. Pinkie stood on her hind legs and pointed at the clock, her blue eyes almost maniacally wide.
        “Ten! Nine! Eight!”
        The crowd picked up on this and joined in. Applejack cringed, as if she were witnessing two locomotives barreling towards each other.
        “Four! Three! Two! One!”
        The ancient clock bonged with the first chime. The next six were lost in the cheering, a rousing fanfare replacing the drum roll. Pinkie’s whole head was an indistinct blur as she attempted to look in every direction at once, the toothy grin never faltering.
        The cheering ebbed, then faded. The fanfare quit. The clock chimed for the seventh and final time. Everypony, as one, turned towards Pinkie. Applejack hid her face behind her hat.
        An awful silence permeated the hall, the only sound the faint high-pitched tone of the inert speakers. Pinkie looked around, her smile still fixed. She lifted the mike again and pointed at the clock.
“Minus nine! Minus ten! Minus eleven!”
Somepony coughed. A few others tittered.
        “Come on,” sighed Rarity. She trotted onstage, the others following slowly. She whispered something to Vinyl, who quickly magicked a record onto the turntable and ignited the raucous party music back to life.
        She put a hoof over Pinkie’s shoulders and took the mike from her with her magic. Her other friends stood around her, plastered smiles all around.
        “Let’s hear it for Pinkie Pie for yet another fabulous party!”
        The crowd applauded in earnest, then resumed their conversations.

        By nine o’clock, the hall had been deserted by its guests. Applejack helped carry the last of the speakers to Miss Scratch’s cart outside. Rarity magically pushed a broom around the floor, while Fluttershy started taking down the streamers from the balconies. Pinkie sat on the edge of the stage, idly swinging her back legs, absently petting Gummy at her side and half-frowning at the untouched cake. She wanted to save that for her VIP guests, and couldn’t bring herself to cut into it.
        Rainbow Dash landed next to her, untying the knot from a balloon.
        “Hey, Pinkie!” she said, and then sucked in a deep lungful of helium, picked up Gummy, and opened and closed his toothless jaws to make him “talk.”
        “I dropped spot remover on my dog,”  she squeaked, “and now I can’t find him anywhere!”
        Pinkie snorted into her hoof. Rainbow laughed, which came out three octaves higher than normal, which just made the two of them laugh even harder.
        “Good one, Dashie.”
        Applejack came in and closed the big wooden doors.
        “There’s no doubt about it,” she said as she tossed some discarded cups and paper plates into a wastebasket. “Everypony had a real good time tonight.”
        “Yeah,” said Pinkie. “I guess you’re right.” She looked up at the banners and shook her head. “Even if my special guests didn’t come. It was a silly idea anyway.”
        “It wasn’t that silly,” said Rainbow, the pitch of her voice restored. “I mean, remember that Arbor Day party when you invited Bloomberg to come all the way from Appaloosa? That was much sillier than this.”
Rarity shot her a look. Rainbow replied with a what? shrug.
Twelve feet above, Fluttershy froze with a foreleg halfway to pulling down another streamer. She cocked her head.
“Bloomberg never did RSVP,” giggled Pinkie. Applejack, across the room, chuckled.
“You know,” said Rarity, coming to Pinkie’s side, “we never did have an after-party to your Post-Winter-Wrap-Up Fling. You could make more of those delicious cakes shaped like tulips. What do you say?”
Fluttershy’s heart started pounding. Few ponies knew that part of her ability to communicate with animals came from her unusually sensitive hearing. In order for her to understand, for example, a red-crowned thrush when it wished her good morning, her ears had to be tuned to frequencies high above the normal range of pony auditory capabilities in order to comprehend all the nuances of an avian greeting. Which is how Fluttershy could make out the extremely high-pitched whistle that was steadily getting louder.
“Um...girls...?” she said too quietly.
“They're made from real tulip!” said Pinkie, successfully cheered up. She stood up and gave Rainbow, then Rarity, a hug.
“Eep!” said Fluttershy, who dropped her streamers, covered her ears, and hid behind the railing of a balcony. Rainbow took no notice as she flew up to take down one of the banners.
“Yep, awesome party,” she declared. “Although I think Vinyl might have had the music turned up louder than usual. My ears are still ringing.”
“Now that ya mention it,” said Applejack, “so are mine.”
“That’s strange,” said Rarity, frowning, “mine weren’t ringing before, but now...”
The noise resounded around the hall, and dropped in pitch to a insect-like buzz. Everypony dropped what they were doing, looking around the room for the source of the phantom sound. Fluttershy trembled, daring to lift her head an inch above the bannister to peer down.
“Look!” shouted Applejack. She pointed at one of the punch bowls, which vibrated more than the others, its contents swirling and bubbling. Before anypony could step forward to investigate, there was a sharp pop! of abrupt air displacement, and something materialized in the air a foot above the bowl, and then fell into it with a clang.
Rarity, being closest, cautiously walked over to the table, gritting her teeth with forced courage.
The punch bowl now contained an object roughly the shape and size of an ostrich egg. It gleamed with lustrous bronze or copper, or perhaps brass, studded with tiny hexagonal bolts. A short rod, like an antenna, extended from one side. Rarity’s blue eyes widened at the cherry-red ruby set into a ring on its other side. Rarity’s horn lit up blue.
“Don’t touch it!” cried Applejack, now at her side. Rarity’s aura disappeared. Rainbow swooped over and reached out a hoof. Applejack slapped it aside.
“I said don’t touch it!”
“I suppose,” said Rarity, swallowing hard, “it would be foolish to ask what that is.”
“Or where it came from,” offered Applejack.
        “Look!” gasped Rainbow, backing away. The ruby on the half-submerged artifact had begin to glow brightly, and the rod swiveled on its own, pinging against the glass of the bowl. A pale-white glow surrounded it. Then it levitated itself a foot above the table, dripping yellow punch, and bobbed unsupported in place. High above, Fluttershy whimpered and covered her eyes.
        “Rarity,” whispered Applejack. “I don’t suppose yer doin’ that, are ya?”
        “No. No I’m not.”
        “Shoot.”
        The mechanical egg rotated in place, then stopped. It emitted a small bip, bip, bip sound. Then the ruby illuminated like a flashlight, projecting a dark red ellipse on the floor. Everypony shivered at the sensation of the air...moving around them. No, not the air; air implies wind. It felt more like the empty space itself bent, twisted, and folded in the direction of the red ellipse. The ponies could smell something like ozone or burning toast. Without knowing why, they all winced and knelt down for cover.
        Pop!
        The alien device and its ruby stopped glowing, and it fell back into the punch, but nopony took notice of this. The unicorn stallion who had just materialized out of the ether was far more interesting.
        Time, as it often does in moments like this, stood still.
        The yellow unicorn with a long blue mane wore a black suit, a black tie, a pair of saddlebags, and an expression of awe, standing stock-still.
        He blinked his cobalt eyes.
        “Did I?”
        He turned his head.
        “Am I?”
        He looked down at himself, patting himself down to make sure he was in one piece. He gazed up into the hall. Then, he laughed, once, a deep hearty bark. The shocked mares followed his line of sight. He stared at the banner which read:

        He took a deep breath.
        “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!” The new arrival jumped up, back-flipped, landed on his flank, and then lept up and danced, his saddlebags slipping onto the floor. He spun in place with his forelegs outstreched. His eyes watered. He laughed with unrestrained joy.
        “I did it I did it I did it I did it I did it! Oh, smackly, I really did it! I’m here!”
        He stopped spinning and bounded onto the stage and tap-danced. Applejack, Rarity, and Rainbow were still on the floor, dumbstruck. Fluttershy leaned over the railing, both terrified and curious.
        Only then did the unicorn notice that he had a partner; a mare with wild, curly hair tapped alongside him, matching his every step. He stopped and dropped to one knee and clasped her hoof.
        “Pinkie Pie, I presume?” he asked magnanimously.
        “Uh huh,” said Pinkie, nodding with a glorious smile. The unicorn kissed her hoof and pulled her into a tight embrace, which Pinkie enthusiastically returned.
        “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this day,” he said, “How much of an inspiration you have been to me.” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
        “You’re so welcome!” said Pinkie, patting his back.
        “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” said Rainbow, who flapped above this spectacle. The unicorn looked up at her, then at the other two thunderstruck mares, then at the pink-maned pegasus who floated down nearby.
        “Everypony! Listen!” He released Pinkie and retrieved his saddlebags with the blue glow of his horn. He magicked open the clasp, which matched his cutie mark: a pair of orange, interlocking gears. He produced from one bag a short stack of notecards, which he levitated in front of himself. Then he reached inside his coat for a hidden switch. His black suit and tie came alive with every imaginable color, swirling and flowing around in a dazzling display.
        “Oooo!” said Rarity.
        “Ahem. Allow me to introduce myself,” said the stallion, reading off the first notecard. “My name is Eureka, and I’m an engineer from the year...” He paused for, yes, dramatic effect. “...1543! Over three hundred years in your future!”
        “Yes!” shouted Pinkie, pumping a hoof in the air.
        “I first want to thank you all for greeting this warm reception,” he read. Then he glanced up and noticed for the first time how empty the room was. He turned to Pinkie.
        “Oh, drackle, am I late? I’m so sorry about that. Anyway, I just -- “
        Bip, bip, bip.
        Everypony turned. The egg-shaped device was airborne and glowing white again. The ruby projected its beam on a spot just above the towering cake.
        “Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,” said Eureka, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not supposed to be doing that.”
        There were three sounds. The first was a familiar pop! The second was the splash of the egg falling back into the punch. The third was the squishy thud of a pony dropping headfirst into a cake.
        Eureka dropped his notes and rushed over to the punchbowl.
        “Nonononono, don’t do that,” he scolded, as if to a naughty foal. He magicked some bizarre-shaped tools from his bag and started poking at the device.
        With a groan, the blue earth pony rolled over on the table, and sat up on her haunches, sending the gooey remains of the cake flying. Pink frosting and gummy bears dripped from her face and out of her boysenberry mane. Her hat fell onto the floor. It was brown and conical, with a white plume. She brushed bits of cake from her front-laced peasant coat with her free hoof, her other hoof holding a glass vial containing a purple liquid.
        Once her orange eyes were cake-free, she noticed Rarity, and recoiled. Rainbow flew in for a closer look, and the mare held up her front hooves and ducked. Then she saw Applejack.
        “Ardisagar rad tef toogen! Farin quera? Farin tua? Questot ar Chancololles?” she cried. Then she looked around frantically to see where that bipping noise was coming from.
        The egg was aloft again, now surrounded by a blue aura as Eureka tried in vain to pull it back down. It rotated and projected its crimson light straight up.
Pop!
“-- eeeeeeeeehaaaaaa!” a male voice cried from the streak that rocketed out of the empty air and right through the roof with a crunch, leaving behind a hole in the ceiling. In an instant, whatever or whoever it was became a mere speck against the now-visible full moon.
“Woah!” said Rainbow Dash, peering up through the hole, “Did you see that?”
Eureka did not. He squinted at the label on the side of the punchbowl in which the egg had bathed until recently.
“Miss Pie,” he called out, “this ‘Ultra-Lemony Lemon, Lime, and Lemon Punch’ wouldn’t happen to be highly acidic, would it?”
The egg bipped at nopony in particular, and now focused its beam exactly where Fluttershy shook in a far corner.
“Look out!” Applejack pushed her out of the way, seconds before there was yet another POP!, this one much louder than the previous pops.
It took a moment for the assembled party to appreciate who now stood in the corner.
He wore a beautifully-woven grey waistcoat with polished silver buttons. A gold watch chain draped from one pocket to its opposite. The dapper red cravat tied about his neck matched the eyes behind his pince-nez spectacles. His grey pinstriped trousers were perfectly tailored to his form, and his black patent shoes shone with a thorough polish. A black stovepipe hat with a white satin band completed the ensemble.
Under very different circumstances, Rarity would have been quite enamoured of anypony charming enough to wear such an exquisite set of clothes.
Except that they were being worn by an eight-foot dragon.
A shrill scream erupted from Fluttershy, who dove headlong through an open window.
“Woah, nelly!” said Applejack.
The blue mare on the cake table pointed up at the dragon.
“Arix! En draiconicot!” she shouted before her eyes rolled back and she fainted face-first into the cake.
The well-dressed dragon held in one claw a clump of rose bushes in the same manner as one would handle a bouquet. He squinted at the banner which happened to be mere inches from his eyes. He removed his spectacles and looked again.
“Oh no!” he whispered, dropping the bushes to one side, right on top of the hors d'oeuvres. “1219? 1219?? But...that means...I gone too far! Too faaaaar!”
He burst into tears that splashed like rain and soaked Rarity.
"My gown!" she cried.
“Oh, crans to this nonsense!” said Eureka, apparently oblivious to all this. “I’ll just eject the stone!” He magically jammed a flathead screwdriver between the ruby and the ring in which it was set. Unperturbed, the egg spun in place and aimed its angry red eye on the stage. Everypony braced themselves for whatever eldritch horror was about to manifest.
Pop!
“-- waste your time...worrying...about...ugh! I can’t believe I just did that!” said the new arrival to the back wall she faced.
“Uh oh,” said Applejack.
“Wait. Are we back in Ponyville? Pinkie? Spike?”
The purple unicorn with a really weird manecut, a bandaged head, and an eyepatch, wearing a torn black spysuit, turned around to face her friends, a strange mare with her face buried in a cake, a strange stallion with an illuminated suit trying to pry a ruby from a floaty thing, and a sharply-dressed, bawling dragon.
She, too, noticed the big banner and the date printed on it.
“Oh dear,” said Twilight.
With one final shove, Eureka dislodged the ruby and caught it in his fetlock. The egg dropped, silent and still at last.
“Gotchaaaaaaaaa yikes that’s hot!”
Before he could catch it in his magic, the ruby hit the marble floor with a sickening crack, splitting in two.
A loose timber fell from the ceiling and clattered next to Pinkie. She took no notice, occupied with gathering up four name badges. She tapped the dragon’s tail. The dragon sniffled and look down at the hostess. Pinkie held a black marker over the blank on one of the badges.
“Hi! Your name, please?”