The Truth About "Pokey" Pierce

by Chris

In which the story concludes

The party was already in full swing when Pierce walked through the door.  An old record player near the entrance was gamely knocking out energizing music as the young fillies and their parents mingled in small knots.  With a smirk, he noted the three-tiered tray of carrots on the buffet table; Diamond Tiara’s mother must have put up an awful fight to convince Pinkie to serve anything that wasn’t loaded with sugar.

Pierce wandered through the crowd, seeking out ponies and making small talk--and dropping little reminders.

“Lovely party, isn’t it Carrot Top?  Just make sure you aren’t out too late--the pegasus ponies have a storm scheduled for tomorrow noon, and you’ve still got to tarp down all of your second plantings.

“Nice to see you, Berry Punch!  You’ll make sure little Berry Blast doesn’t eat too much cake, won’t you?  Too many sweets will upset her stomach, after all, and she still has to write her history report tonight!

“Isn’t this a wonderful cutceñera, Silver Spoon?  It looks like everypony’s having a great time!  But don’t forget: you promised your mother you’d be home by six!  It wouldn’t do to have her worrying about you, would it?”

The guests mostly nodded and smiled at his gentle admonitions (except Silver Spoon, who stuck out her tongue at him and retorted, “You’re not the boss of me!”).  They had long become used to his constant reminders.  Some said he was a nag, plain and simple, but many of the town’s residents found that they appreciated having somepony to help them keep track of their responsibilities.  

After a while, Pierce slipped off to an out-of-the-way corner, and pulled out his notebook.  He ran down the long list of names and jobs, checking off those ponies whom he’d already spoken to.  Whatever else Canker had taught him, the value of organization was one lesson he was grateful for.  In his youth, he’d barely been able to remember his own duties; there was no way he could have kept track of the entire town’s workloads without diligent record-keeping.

He grinned as he looked over the laughing crowd.  Here he was, standing in the middle of a full-on party...and his work was done.  It was quite a change from the way he used to operate.

Well, he wasn’t quite done.  Looking around, he spotted a dozen balloons floating near the store counter.  Perfect.

Walking over, he closed his eyes and smiled.  Dancing to the music’s beat, he thrust his horn back and forth, the loud pop of each balloon bringing back memories; not all good, but each worth cherishing.  Each a part of who he was.  He didn’t open his eyes until his stabs were met by nothing but air.

Gazing down at the broken bits of latex, he thought back to the old pony who’d introduced him to his life’s work.  Pierce made promises to Canker on the day the black stallion had been buried, and he had kept his word.  The decorations were destroyed: this party was as good as ruined.  And, if the old pony himself might not have thought the damage done was quite sufficient...well, it was the thought that counted, right?

His reminiscing was interrupted by a loud SKRRITCH as the record player was knocked askew.  Looking, he saw that the table had been bumped by the youngest Apple sibling, Applebloom.  Nice folks, the Apples, the thought absentmindedly.  Hardly ever need a reminder from me to take care of their business.

Along with all the other ponies, he watched as Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon marched towards her, seeing her and her "blank flank" as an easy mark for their bullying.  The look of resignation on Applebloom’s face was one Pierce remembered all too well from his own youth.

This time, however, things would be a bit different.

He cast his eyes about the gathering.  He’d seen them just a moment ago...there!  In amongst the crowd were two young fillies: a white unicorn and an orange pegasus.  Both notably lacked their cutie marks.

As he approached, he heard the pegasus saying, “C’mon Sweetie Bell!  Let’s tell those stuck-up goons a thing or two!”

The unicorn, however, was not so eager to intervene.  “I dunno, Scoot.  What if they just start picking on us instead?”

Stepping up next to them, Pierce said in a low voice, “Applebloom’s one of the kindest, most honest fillies in Ponyville.  If they were picking on you instead, don’t you think she’d have something to say?”

Sweetie Bell looked down at her hooves, scuffing at the floor.  “Well...”

Scootaloo nudged the young unicorn again.  “Yeah, of course she’d do the same for us!  Now c’mon, let’s go!”  Giving up her protests in the face of her friend’s bravado, Sweetie Bell joined her compatriot as they trotted to Applebloom’s defense.

Satisfied, Pierce slipped to the back door and left the building.  As he headed off, he pulled out his notebook again, seeing what was next on his schedule.  That was one thing that hadn’t changed about the job; it was still lonely, lonely work.  But he had no doubt that Ponyville was a better, happier place today, thanks to his efforts.  

Some days, that felt like small comfort.  But today...

Today, Pierce felt like he could live with that.

From the stairway, Pinkie Pie watched the blue unicorn leave.  She had seen him go talk to Sweetie Bell and Scootaloo.  She didn’t know what he’d said, but clearly it had motivated them to stand up to those meanies who were harassing Applebloom.  That was good, right?

Of course, she’d also seen him pop the balloons, but that wasn’t a big deal.  After all, the rest of the decorations were still intact.  Somepony just coming in probably wouldn’t even notice they were missing.  And besides, Pinkie was prepared.
She opened the closet, pulling out a fresh box of balloons and a tank of helium.  How she managed to fill and tie off the balloons with her hooves was a mystery, but she nevertheless had a dozen ready to go in no time at all.  

She remembered the days when she had viewed Pokey as her personal tormentor.  She had even seen him as some sort of villain, an arch-nemesis to her party-throwing superhero.  But things had changed long ago.  For years now, he had followed the same pattern at every party: he would show up, make one tiny little mess, and then leave.  Sometimes he’d eat half a cupcake and drop the rest on the floor; sometimes he’d kick over a trash bin; today it was the balloons.  Pinkie didn’t know what to make of it.

But she’d seen the smile on his face when he made his tiny little mess.  Whatever his problem was, at least he was happy.

Pinkie placed the new bunch of balloons in the same spot the old ones had rested.  Satisfied, she ran to the back door.  She popped her head out the window just in time to see Pokey turning down a corner, his nose buried in his notebook.  His smile brought a compatriot grin to her face.

The best parties, she thought to herself, are the ones where everypony leaves happy.