//------------------------------// // A trap most foul // Story: Pinkie's Greatest Foe // by MelancholyIguana //------------------------------// Pinkie's greatest foe Pinkie looked at the boiling trap set before her. The cauldron lay large, intimidating in the way it portrayed pride. Its power geminated to the point where merely being in the same room left you with sweat beaded across your brow. Pinkie didn't like it. It never moved, it never talked. Would never be bribed, bargained, or bartered. And even some of Pinkies more drastic measure failed to confuse it. It was NEVER beaten. But that wasn't the worst of it. As it lay down, taking up most of the chamber, its vile mouth open so wide it could fit half a dozen of her in it and eat them all with no hesitation. It was truly a mouth as vast as the creature was. However, that wasn't the worst either. What lay in the horrid creatures gaping mouth was what, even in the hot damp cage she was locked in, chilled the young Pinkie Pie to her very core. Like tar, bubbling and frothing in its own heat, the pit of her demise spewed forth wisps; tortured souls so condensed they became visible to the naked eye. The pool in its mouth daring her to jump in and join the ascent of the ghosts. "Pinkie, get in the bath!" Pinkie's mum repeated her order again, frustration no longer in just her voice. Pinkie watched as the ghostly apparitions rose from the surface of the vile liquid. By merely touching the conglomeration of pained souls could be the very death of her. Pinkie, still gripping tightly to the bathroom sink as she had been for the past ten minutes, gave her answer again. "N-nnnno," she would not go in. "Pinkie, its been far too long since you last had a bath. You need another," her mum commented as she raised a hoof to rub the bridge of her nose. "Nnnnno!" The inner mechanisms of Pinkies mind ran manic. Yet still, like clockwork, it had a method behind it. Her eloquent grasp of equestrian language failed her. She was only a foal after all, and was still in the earlier years of school. She was a clever little filly for her age and ever so creative, yet most of this creativity manifested itself, much to her parents delight and annoyance, in her imagination. So whilst she couldn't explain why she couldn't go into the silent predators jaws, a simple "Nnnnno" would have to suffice. "Get in." "Nnno" "Pinkie," her mum stamped, grabbing Pinkies back legs and pulling. Pinkie, now in midair, harnessed the power of the "boa". Her grip on the sink never wavered. "We can't keep doing this every time you need a bath." Pinkie couldn't look at the shiny marble stone-like creature anymore. It agitated her how it merely sat there... Waiting. Her mother, clearly hypnotised by this demon, was trying to lull Pinkie into this creatures obvious trap. It was a cunning plan of course, but it was fortuitous that Pinkie had the intelligence her mother was currently stricken of. "Nnnnnnno!" Whilst Pinkie's constrictor abilities she was harnessing (gained through the sacrifice of many mortal enemies to the snake goddess, enemies such as broccoli and homework) never wavered, her mother's grip gave way, sending her flying against the furthest wall. The crash grabbed the attention of Pinkie's dad. With a book under his arm, he strolled into the bathroom. "Pinkie... What are you doing?" Pinkie still hugging the sink replied, "I don't wanna go in the bath. Its scarwee and mean." A dazed mother lying crumpled against the opposite side of the room, sighed. "I give up," trying to shake the stars spinning around her head. Looking at the book in his hand. "Honey, why do you have a book all about igneous stones in your hand? Can't you get your mind off work for two seconds?" A hurt look, plastered itself over his face. "But geology rocks," he countered, followed by a soft slap from Pinkie mother facehoofing again. Pinkie giggled. "Just help me get her in the bath." He mum exhaled, picking herself off the floor and dusting herself down. The father disappeared for a few moments. Upon his return, the book was replaced by a crowbar. "This might work," he said sizing it up. Passing it to the mother, he made to walk out again. "One good hit on the noggin should do the trick." "We are not resorting to violence!" "But its the answer to all of life's problems," the dry delivery Pinkie's father used never failed to make her laugh. "Fine," he rolled his eyes, edging the crowbar between the sink and the little pink foul. It took many strained attempts to liberate her from the foursit. By the end of it, Pinkie felt guilty for choking the sink. She would apologise later. She didn't expect any recognition, the sink was never that talkative and as a result didn't respond to her many attempts at holding a conversation. More importantly however, Pinkie had little to protect her from the bath now. Held aloft, she felt like a sacrifice to a volcano. "What are you guys doing?" Maud said. Standing in the doorway, holding a copy of her dads later crime thriller 'Its Sedimentary my dear Watson'. "Pinkie refused to have a wash." Maud stepped forward. "Try this." Throwing a cake into the bath, a loud splash reverberated around the tiny room as Pinkie, with skill that would have earned her a standing ovation at a diving contest, caught the small treat in her mouth before it hit the water and plunged into its warm comforting embrace. The reproductions of the splash soaking all other occupants of the bathroom. The book, however, was left untouched, thank Celestia. With a look of pleasure on her face, Pinkie finished the cake in seconds. She played with Jacques Banditto Da Vinci the rubber duck, had her hair washed and quickly adapted to her new aquatic life. Sailing as Captain Pinkbeard, the most feared pirate in all the soapy seas... With a pink beard. After half an hour of play time, her mother returned. "Pinkie, get out of the bath." "N-nnnno"