Chapter 2- Stick a Spork in that Apple
Sweetie Belle, a frightened expression on her muzzle, slowly walked up to the instrument of death and picked it up with her hoof, staring at it in a mixture of shock and fear. Her little heart was beating a mile a minute as she finally raised her look to her unmoving older sister.
“Do it now!” Pinkie commanded coldly.
Sweetie slowly paced forward, one step after another. It seemed to take an eternity, but she finally made it to the purple-maned Unicorn, that was her older sister. She took breath, bracing herself for the horrible deed she was about to commit. “I’m sorry… Rarity…” she muttered in a trembling voice.
Pinkie grinned wickedly as Sweetie Belle raised the Spork high up, and jammed it into Rarity’s chest. She closed her eyes, a teardrop forming in each of her eyes.
“Sweetie… Belle…” Rarity groaned.
Sweetie’s eyes shot open as she stared at her older sibling.
“You’re… Grounded,” Rarity said quietly, before returning to her eternal slumber.
“Aww, horse apples,” Sweetie muttered.
“Muahahahaha!” Pinkie vocalized loudly after the deed was done. “Now come, my evil minion! We have many a pony to slay!”
“Hey, Pinkie…” Sweetie spoke, gaining her attention. “Do you think… I’ll get a Spork cutie mark for this?” she asked as she turned to the pink pony with a big, hopeful smile.
“Absoludefinitely!” Pinkie said cheerfully. “And not only does a Spork cutie mark sound awesome, but I’ll get to throw you a cute-ceañera!”
“Hurray! I can’t wait to tell Apple Bloom and Scootaloo about this!” Sweetie said in excitement, and hooved to Pinkie the Spork.
“Wait a second, I’ll go get another Spork from the kitchen,” the white filly said as she ran off.
*****
“I’m back!” Sweetie announced, in her mouth another lethal weapon of doom and destruction of her own. Pinkie was waiting for her near the entrance to Carousel Boutique.
“Great, my evil minion!” Pinkie called, smirking evilly. The two ponies crossed their Sporks, creating a pose of unpareil epicness and evil, as the two weapons sparkled in the lamp’s light.
“So, where should we head to next?” Pinkie asked.
“Well, the Cutie Mark Crusaders are holding a meeting soon in the treehouse at Sweet Apple Acres. I could go slay Apple Bloom and Scootaloo there,” Sweetie suggested.
“Great, and meanwhile, I’ll finish off the rest of the Apple Family!” Pinkie called.
“MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!” the malicious duo immediately burst into a duet of evil laughter.
“How was my evil laugh?” Sweetie asked, after the pair vocalized their evilness.
“Not bad, but it could be about twenty percent more evil if you put more emphasis on every other ‘ha’,” Pinkie advised.
“Oh. Thanks, Pinkie!” Sweetie thanked her kindly.
“Now, let’s go stick a Spork in those Apples!” Pinkie called.
The two ponies happily skipped out of Carousel Boutique, holding their lethal weapons in their mouths, and closed the door behind them. Even murderers still have their manners.
*****
Unaware of the unspeakable evil at her doorstep, Applejack trod towards the front door of her farmhouse, in order to answer the one knocking on it.
“Who’s there?” Applejack inquired.
“Hereeeeeee’s Pinkie!” the pink pony called, and waited patiently for the cowmare to open the door, instead of piercing it with the Spork.
“Howdy, Pinkie! What bring y’all here?” the orange mare asked after opening the door for her friend, unaware of the horrible fate about to befall her.
“I’m here to kill you… With a Spork!” Pinkie yelled, smiling viciously.
“Uhh… What was that again?” Applejack asked, not getting a lick of what the pink pony just said.
She got her answer in the form of a stab to her flank. “Pinkie! Mah cutie mark ain’t real, you know!” she scolded. “If you want an Apple, you can just ask.”
“Applejack, don’t ignore me while I’m stabbing you!” Pinkie cried out. “Act like a proper Sporked victim, won’t you?!”
“Fine,” The orange mare groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh no, da pain’s too much! How could ya do it, Pinkie! I’m dying!” she called monotonically as she stepped towards the couch, all the while being jabbed by Pinkie, and finally jumped onto the Sofa, as she breathed her last breath. Or yawn, actually. She tilted her hat over her head and dozed off.
“Hurray! Another victim claimed by my Spork! This is so fun, I should throw a Spork party someday!” Pinkie said cheerfully as she hopped off to find the rest of the Apple Family. “Spork, Spork, Spork. That’s such a fun word to say!”
*****
Pinkie tip-hooved all around the Apples’ farmhouse, looking for her next victim. As she was walking down the hall, she felt a sudden itch in her nose.
“Oh! This means there’s somepony… Here!” she called as she took a peek through the next door on her left, where she saw Granny Smith calmly knitting, sitting on a rocking chair.
Grinning diabolically, Pinkie hid the Spork in her mane, and walked over to Granny Smith. “Whatcha doing?” she asked innocently.
“Oh, howdy, Pinkie!” Granny said as she rocked back and forth. “Just sewing a new sweater for Apple Bloom,” she explained as she worked on the red piece of cloth.
“Can you sew something… For my Spork?!” Pinkie asked, a wicked smile once more popping on her muzzle as she pulled out the horrible weapon from her bring pink mane.
“Oh, dear Celestia! Not a Spork! Anything but a Spork!” the aged mare yelled, dropping her crafts on the wooden floor. Pinkie Pie was approaching her slowly and menacingly.
As the pink murderer drew closer and closer, Granny Smith could slowly see her reflection coming more and more into focus on the lethal weapon. Eventually, the stress and horror was too much, as she clutched her chest with her front hoof, her heart reaching a dangerously high rate of heartbeats. Just as Pinkie finally reached her, and was about to strike her down with the awful Spork, the green granny slumped down in her chair, dead.
“Aww, this sucks! I didn’t get to kill her!” Pinkie cried, disappointed over losing her victim.
“Better luck next time, young’un!” Granny Smith said, smirking with her eyes still closed and her body still limp.
“Oh well, onwards to Big Mac,” Pinkie said as she turned around, stuffing the Spork back in her mane.
“He’s in the barn!” Granny called behind her.
“Thanks, Granny Smith!” Pinkie replied.
“You’re welcome! Come over tomorrow for dinner! It’s pie night!”
“Okey dokey lokey!” the pink pony answered happily as she bounced to find the last remaining victim in the house.