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// A Rock In A Hard Place 
// Story: A Study In Nonsense 
// by Professor Piggy 
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There was a way these things were s’posed to be done. Shadowy figures decked out in killer suits, huddled around tables in smokey back rooms, makin’ plans in hushed voices and makin’ sure nothin’ in town happened without their say so. They didn’t have none o’ that. Well, they had the smoke – billowin’ up from the kitchen below, probably smelling like candy or gumdrops or cake or somethin’ like that. She couldn’t really say, on account o’ not havin’ a nose an’ all. It wasn’t important anyways – the smoke by itself didn’t do a damn thing for the atmosphere. Besides the smoke, what they had was five chairs, three idiots, one drop dead gorgeous pile o’ rocks and a whole lot o’ noise.

Lintsalot an’ Turnip were at it again, screamin’ at each other from across the table about how they was right an’ the other was wrong. Turnip’d accuse Lintsalot o’ bein’ a day dreamer, an idiot who couldn’t see the truth if it rolled down and smacked ‘im in the face like a boulder. There was truth to that. Lintsalot’d gasp in horror, press one o’ those perfectly filed dust balls to his… dust ball… an’ ask what a backwater vegetable in a dented bucket knew ‘bout romance anyways. Then LeFlour’d cry, and they’d end up getting’ nowhere again, just like the time they’d tried to corner the local cider market or that time the yellow pony, Buttershy, had broken Pinkie’s heart.

She wasn’t gonna let it happen. Helpin’ Pinkie was their job, and they already screwed it up often enough.

She cleared her throat, and let her smallest rock drop to the table with a thud. Instantly, the room grew silent. Every bag, bucket and dustball turned to her, and she liked to imagine that if any of ‘em had eyes, they’d have been wide and attentive. Just like she liked to imagine that her own were narrowed in a kickass glare – though o’ course, even without the eyes she was tough enough to scare the hell outta any chump that got in her way.

'This ain't why we're here,' she began calmly, and held up a pebble when Turnip tried to cut her off. 'We ain't here to bicker amongst ourselves an' whine 'cause last night didn't go the way we wanted it too. I ain't happy about it either, but we can't change it now. So shut the hell up, an' let's get to business.'

'Business?' Turnip drawled, as the whispery voice of Madame LeFlour muttered something about how not all of 'em were unhappy with how it went. 'What business? Y’all ain’t even told us what we’re doin’ here. If it ain’t to talk about what happened, what is it?’

'Yes, darling, do enlighten dear Mister Turnip. I, of course, am already quite aware of the purpose of this little get together, but some of use spend entirely too much time polishing our buckets to keep up to date on current events.’

That was Lintsalot, o’ course. Quick as a whip and twice as eager to grind you down to gravel any chance he got.

'Oh yeah!? Well excuse me for wantin’ to keep my bucket clean! Not all of us got as good as you, y’know! Some of us are perishable!’

'Oh, and heaven forbid you be deprived your life. You are completely excused for your murder of innocent -‘

‘Quiet! Um… I… that is… c’est stupide, poney fou… I um… I was wondering if you could, um… please be quiet for a moment, so that Miss Rocky can tell us what this meeting is actually about? I’d be ever so grateful. Je vous deteste.’

Rocky inclined her head to Madame LeFlour an’ cleared her throat. It was always good to have backup, dealin’ with Turnip and Lintsalot, even if it came from a lady as terrifyin’ as LeFlour.

'Right. So, like I was sayin' before you two idiots cut me off… we all know what happened last night. Pinkie and her five stupid little friends got together for another party on account of it bein' a new pony year or somethin' – I dunno, stupid things go by so fast. They should just stick to centuries, like anybody with sense w – anyways, anyways. That's a whole other discussion. So: the white one got smashed and declared undyin' love to Pinks and kisses her. Then Buttershy got all mad and said no, Pinks is hers, it totally doesn't count that she broke up with her a month ago, and bam. Pinkie's torn between her love for Buttershy, her crush on the chump, and this new thing with What'sherface.'

'Um… if you don't mind.. we… we all already knew that. Why are we… what do we even have to have a meeting for? We all know that she and Fluttershy… it’s Fluttershy by the way… we all know that they’re meant to be. I mean, it’s -‘

'Oh, my dear, I know this must be difficult for you, but I'm afraid I simply cannot allow you to delude yourself like that. It’s quite apparent to everybody here that with the incomparable and radiant Miss Rarity as competition, darling Fluttershy doesn’t have a chance of being the one! I mean, would you take that timid little thing over that fabulousity that is Rarity?’

‘Um…yes? C’est inquiétant.’

'Oh please. Everybody knows you're just rooting for Rarity 'cause you wanna make that pretty white coat o' hers all dirty.'

'And? She'd love it! A mare of taste and elegance such as she could never -‘

'You forgotten what happened last time she caught a glimpse of ya? 'Cause as I recall she got her cat to drag you outta there.'

'A minor setback! Why, if I could speak to her just once more -‘

‘Enough. I already told you to cut it out. We ain’t here to argue ‘bout who we want to make out or who’s gonna win – though the chump’s got it in the bag. We’re here to talk about what’s best for Pinkie.’

'Precisely! And what's best for Pinkie is Rarity! They'd be so cute together!’

'Okay, first off: Pinks'd be cute with anypony she was with, and that's a fact. Anything in a ten mile radius of her is just way more adorable by default. But anyways, more importantly: this ain't about what's cutest, or what's most fun, or any o' that other crap. You guys know as well as I do that when Pinkie wakes up she's gonna come, an' she's gonna ask our advice. So we gotta be ready. We gotta decide what's best for her, so we can help her make the right choice when it comes to what happens next. You with me?'

As her three friends exchanged glances, nodding and muttering apologies, Rocky smiled. Or would have, anyways. Smiling was tough for a rock. But still – it was a start. And as she leaned in and the meeting began in earnest, she knew that the four of ‘em would do right by Pinkie, just like they always had.