//------------------------------// // In which life fails to improve // Story: The Truth About "Pokey" Pierce // by Chris //------------------------------// The Truth About "Pokey" Pierce Part 3: In which life fails to improve Pierce managed to be "sick" the next few days, but he couldn’t avoid school forever.  If his parents knew about the abortive party for Ditzy, they said nothing to him.  Perhaps they were trying to spare his feelings, Pierce thought.  Maybe they were waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to bring up the subject himself. Maybe they didn’t care. In any case, going back to school was an eventuality which he could not put off forever.  His return went exactly as well as he imagined.  Pinkie was distraught and apologetic; a few of the other ponies were visibly regretful.  Most were simply cruel.  Compounding his misery was the fact that Ditzy no longer came to class, her parents deciding that it was in her best interests to be home schooled for the foreseeable future.  That left the other ponies with only one target for their mockery. As days stretched into weeks, the daily torment showed no signs of relenting.  Pierce had never been a great student, but his grades plummeted as he spent more and more time trying to block out the world around him.  He traveled from home to school and back again as quickly as he could, and rarely emerged from his self-imposed solitude.  As he became more reclusive,  the old black stallion who surreptitiously observed his comings and goings each day grew more and more confident.  This was indeed the child he’d been looking for. ***** “Alright Pinkie, we’re all here.  Now what’s this great idea of yours?” Rainbow Dash was quickly becoming uncomfortable in the "party planning box," as Pinkie had named it.  Even if there had only been the two of them, the box would have been cozy.  As it was, C.J., Applejack, and Raindrops had all crowded inside as well, and Dash could already feel the first hints of claustrophobia gnawing at her.  Looking around at the other ponies’ agitated faces, she saw she wasn’t the only one feeling hemmed in. If Pinkie was at all uncomfortable, however, it didn’t show.  Smiling conspiratorially, she explained, “Ever since all those meanies at school ruined the party I put on for Ditzy, I’ve been trying to find the perfect way to get back at them.  I thought and I thought, and sometimes the thinking didn’t go very well, like when I got hungry, so I’d go get something to eat, but then I’d-” “Pinkie...” Dash growled, hoping her gruff tone would hide her discomfort.  “Get to the point.” “Oh!  Well, I finally figured it out!  We’re going to-” she paused to lean in, although the box’s tight confines meant that all the ponies were practically touching noses already,  “-throw a party!” There was a moment of silence.  Finally, a confused looking Applejack slowly repeated, “A...party?” “Yep!” “Your plan to get back at Blues’ band and the flower girls...is to throw a party?” Pinkie beamed.  “I know!  Isn’t it brilliant?” Dash exploded, “Pinkie Pie, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said!  If you want to retaliate, we can tie their manes to the backs of their chairs, or slip tabasco into their milkshakes, or sneak into their houses at night and put their hooves in bowls of warm water, or...or...or ANYTHING!  How is having a party going to get back at them!?” Pinkie thought hard for a moment.  “Oh, that’s right!  I didn’t tell you the rest of my plan!  We’ll throw a party, and we’ll all be there, and we’ll invite Pokey, and it’ll be the best party ever!  And when they find out they weren’t invited, they’ll wish they’d been there and that’s how we’ll get our revenge!” The other ponies considered this.  “Well,” mused Applejack, “Pokey sure seems like he could use a pick-me-up.  If nothing else, maybe it’ll improve his mood a bit.” “What about Derpy?” asked Dash.  “After that prank, she won’t even show her face at school anymore!  If we’re trying to cheer ponies up, we should invite her too.” Raindrops, the pony who knew Ditzy the best out of the group, shook her head.  “Her parents took her to Canterlot to see some big-shot eye specialist.  She won’t be back for another week.  Besides, I don’t know if she’s ready to attend another party, given how well the last one turned out for her.” “Then it’s settled!” Pinkie exclaimed.  “We’ll throw a Private Pokey Party!”  And with that, she began detailing her plans to the others. A short while later, the ponies dispersed.  Rainbow Dash still didn’t think this was any way to retaliate, but she had to admit that a party sounded like fun.  And if Pokey felt a little less put-upon as a result, so much the better. But most importantly, she’d have agreed to anything to get out of that box.  Sighing, she stretched her wings and headed off. ***** The next day, Pierce found a letter addressed to him in the mailbox.  This in itself was unusual; he hardly ever got mail.  When he saw that the letter was from Pinkie Pie, his surprise trebled.  He had barely spoken to the pink pony since Ditzy’s party, although she’d apologized to him many times since then.  Opening the letter, he found a hoofwritten invitation folded inside.  It read: You are invited! What: A party for you!  Pokey! Where: At the Cakes’ shop! When: Tonight after they close! Why: Because we’re your friends, and friends hang out and have awesome parties together! Who: You and me and a few other ponies...But don’t worry, no meanies will be there!  Only nice ponies are invited! Don’t worry, this’ll be the best party ever!   -Your friend, Pinkie Pie! Pierce put his hoof to his temple and groaned.  He had no doubt that Pinkie was trying to be kind, but partying was the last thing on his mind.  Didn’t she realize he just wanted to be left alone? Well, that wasn’t altogether true.  Pierce did sometimes dream about making friends and being popular; what pony didn’t?  But he’d have been perfectly content if he could simply make it though one day at school without having his lunch stolen, his mane pulled, and his pride assaulted.  In fact, he mused, if he could spend a day being completely ignored, it would probably be his best day since the school year began.  No bullying, no teasing, no reprimands from the teacher... His reverie was broken by his mother, who had noticed him standing in the front hall, holding the letter and staring out the window with a distant expression on his face.  “What have you got there, Pierce?” “Wha?  Um, nothing.  I mean, a letter.”  He awkwardly fumbled the object in question behind his back, no mean feat for a quadruped. “Well, it’s nice to see you getting some mail.  Who’s it from?” “No-one.  Um.  Just someone from school.  You don’t know her.” “Oh, it’s a her, is it?  I think I can guess.  It’s that pink earth pony, isn’t it?” Pierce groaned inwardly.  He could tell where this line of questioning was headed.  “Yeah, her.  Pinkie Pie.” “I thought it might be.  Well, I won’t pry, but you really should invite her over for dinner sometime, so your father and I can meet her.” “MOM!” “Well, you don’t have to, it’s just a suggestion.  Now, you’ll be a gentlecolt and write her back right away, won’t you?” Pierce muttered something that might have been an affirmative, and dashed off to his room, shutting the door behind him.  His mother watched him, a smile starting to form on her lips. She had seen how Pinkie waved and giggled whenever she spotted Pierce, and she had seen him blush and hide his face from her.  The mare could still remember her first schoolyard crush, and she remembered just how shy and awkward she had been at his age.  Almost as an afterthought, she made a mental note to have Pierce’s father give him "the talk" soon.  One couldn’t be too careful, after all. She then looked at the letter she had just been reading.  Miss Cheerilee had written her to say that she was concerned about Pierce’s social skills.  She suggested that Pierce was having trouble making friends, and that this might help explain his poor academic performance of late. With a roll of her eyes, she tossed the letter in the trash.  It was clear enough to her that Pierce had friends, whether his teacher saw it or not.  The boy just needed to learn to focus. ***** It took Pierce some time to decide what to do about the letter.  The simplest response, of course, would be to ignore it altogether.  He could stay home tonight, and if Pinkie asked him later he could make up something about the invitation getting lost in the mail.  He could alternatively swallow his discomfort and go.  After all, what was the worst that could happen?  The last party he’d attended had ended in a manure bath; things could only go uphill from there, right? In the end, he decided that he would go find Pinkie, thank her for the invitation, and politely decline.  The least he could do was tell her to her face that he wasn’t interested in going to a party, after all.  His mind made up, Pierce headed to the front door, mentally rehearsing what he would say. Swinging open the door, he was surprised to see Pinkie standing on the front step, her hoof raised to knock. “Oh, hey Pokey!  I was just coming here to get you for the party, but it looks like you’re all ready to go!  C’mon, we can trot down to the bakery together!” Looking up, Pierce saw that the sun was already low on the horizon.  How long had he spent deciding what to do?  As Pinkie Pie stood waiting in the doorway, his brain scrambled for something to say.  His mouth, acting without orders, elected to go with the tried and true, if somewhat inelegant, “Huh?” “Didn’t you get your invitation?  Well, no matter.  You’re invited anyway!  C’mon, let’s go!”  And without waiting for a response, Pinkie grabbed Pierce’s hoof and started leading him to the Cakes’ bakery. After walking two blocks without managing to get a word in edgewise, Pierce resigned himself to attending.  From what Pinkie was saying, it sounded like there would only be a few ponies there anyway, and none of his primary tormentors among them.  As he walked, Pierce even managed to relax a bit.  Perhaps a small, informal party wouldn’t be so bad, after all... As the two young ponies approached the shop together, Applejack stepped out the door, emptying a tray full of broken glass into the garbage pail.  Seeing Pinkie and Pierce arriving, she plastered an obviously fake smile on her face and greeted them.  “Pokey!  Good to see you made it!  Um Pinkie, we might have a little problem...” “What’s wrong, Applejack?  I thought I had everything ready when I went to get Pokey!  Hmm, what did I forget...” “Nothing, Pinkie, it’s just...well...wouldn’t it be nice to have this here shindig a little later?  Like maybe, three or four hours from now?” “Oh, Applejack, everypony’s here now!  Why would we want to put off the party?” Pierce had a sinking suspicion that he knew.  As soon as he’d seen the broken glass, he’d guessed what must have happened.  Making his way to the shop’s front entrance as the two young fillies talked, he peeked inside. The entire shop was a mess.  Streamers had been torn down, pastry displays were toppled, and plates and glassware lay broken on the ground.  Someone had ripped open a pair of 50-pound sacks of flour that had been decoratively placed near the cash register, and their contents mixed with an overturned punch bowl to create a sticky, gummy mess that covered half the floor.  Rainbow Dash, C.J., and Raindrops were frantically cleaning, but there was no way the three of them would be able to restore the shop to order anytime soon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what pony had done this.  Pierce ran around the shop to the back alley, just in time to see a large black stallion vanish around a bend.  Muttering an oath under his breath, Pierce took off in pursuit. Although the old pony was trotting and Pierce was running at a full gallop, the distance between them closed slowly.  Pierce had never been particularly fast on his hooves, and he had to stop several times at intersections, unable to quickly ascertain which way his quarry had gone.  If Pierce’s target knew he was being followed, he betrayed no reaction. Soon, the stallion reached his home, a rickety shack on the outskirts of town.  He trotted in, closing the door behind him.  Still in pursuit, Pierce saw him go inside.  Without stopping to consider his actions, he swung open the door and marched in after him, intent on confronting the old pony. Canker, the black stallion known throughout Ponyville for his party-crashing and general mean spirit, was waiting inside the poorly-furnished hovel.  Pierce strode up to him without hesitating, letting out weeks of pent-up anger with every word.  “Now see her Canker, you witless old gelding!  I don’t know who put a bee in your bonnet, but I’m certain that Pinkie Pie never did anything to you!  Just what do you think gives you the right to go around wrecking somepony’s good time?  Don’t you have a shred of decency in you?  Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?  Of all the ponies that’ve ever called Ponyville home, I’ll bet you’re the most vile, unpleasant, despicable one that ever had the nerve to show himself in public!” As Pierce spoke, Canker simply stood his ground, betraying no outward sign that he was even listening.  Pierce started to falter; he didn’t know what reaction he’d expected, but this certainly wasn’t it.  Nevertheless, he plunged on, committed to speaking his piece.  “If you still have the slightest bit of respectability left in that withered old husk you call a body, you should feel ashamed of yourself!  If you’ve got one scrap of goodwill rattling around in that bony old chest of yours, you should be embarresed to have made such a mess of Pinkie Pie’s party!  And what about the other ponies that have to clean up now?  Did you even stop to think of them? If you’ve got any heart at all, if you’re anything more than just a miserable sack of skin and bile, you’ll march yourself right back to the Cakes’, apologize for what you’ve done, and help the other ponies clean up your mess!” Pierce was panting hard, both from running to follow the stallion and from the effort those words had cost him.  He’d never spoken like this to an adult before, and had no idea what reaction to expect.  But it was too late to back down now; Pierce squared his shoulders and looked the old stallion straight in the eye. After a moment of silence, Canker gave Pierce a leer which sent a shiver down the young colt’s spine.  Reaching over Pierce, he shut the cottage door.  It suddenly occurred to Pierce that he was alone with the old stallion on a secluded property, and that nopony knew where he’d gone.  Gesturing to a bed of hay near the fire, Canker said, “You’re right about one thing.  I do want to explain a few things to you.  Now go sit down over there.”  When Pierce hesitated,  the stallion rasped, “I didn’t ask you, Pokey.  Sit.” Unsure what else to do, Pierce knelt down on the hay Canker had indicated.  His courage replaced with dread, he felt certain he’d made a terrible mistake. ***** Pinkie continued to chatter as she helped clean the Cakes’ shop, as was her wont.  How she managed to speak so quickly and clearly while holding a broom in her mouth was a mystery. “Don’t you worry, Pokey!  This isn’t exactly what I had planned, but we can still have fun!  We’ll have a...a CLEANING party!  We can do some mop bucket jousting, and have three-legged trash bag races, and-” “Um, Pinkie,” Applejack interjected.  “I can see you’re on a roll, but you do know that Pokey isn’t here, right?” “What?  Where did he go?  He was here just a minute ago.  Has anypony seen Pokey?”   Her question was greeted with shaking heads and murmured negatives all around. It seemed to Pinkie that something wasn’t quite right, but she pushed the thought aside.  After all, having your party ruined was enough to put anypony off her game.  “Oh well, he probably went home when he saw all this mess.  Now c’mon gang,” she placed a mop bucket on her head as she spoke, “Who will be the first to face Sir Pinkie, Knight of the Round Stable?”