//------------------------------// // 6. Pinkie Pie is Not a Meme // Story: Pinkie Pie's Quest to Become Meme // by Scootareader //------------------------------// Pinkie Pie woke up early in the morning, her clock displaying 6:40AM, the standard commuter’s time. She went downstairs, her mind on the fact that half of her bed had been empty that night and the ridiculous relationship she’d been in prior with an abusive stallion. Just a day in the life of a normal pony who lived a normal existence and nothing truly out of the ordinary occurred—after all, anything she thought strange had already been experienced by another pony, hence she was not special in any manner to describe. Her mind processed the morning routine of toast and work attire as she cycled the motions of countless other ponies living remarkably similar lives as they likewise fulfilled their expected morning rituals with little deviation. Like her, they all woke up at 6:40 AM. Like her, they would be late for work by 1-2 minutes on average. Like her, they would question whether they ought to go to work at all—and, like they had every other day, they would find their hooves carrying them to their workplace on this day. They had bills to pay and mouths to feed, even if only their own, as Pinkie Pie did. While she autonomously prepared for work and departed just a minute late, toast hanging drolly from her mouth as she affixed a small paper server’s hat to her head, she pondered the lives of Equestrian celebrities. She’d heard about Twilight Sparkle, the Princess of Friendship; she’d heard about Rainbow Dash, the Wonderbolt; she’d heard about Fluttershy, the wildly popular singer; she’d heard about Rarity, the fashion designer in Canterlot. Their lives meant something. Their lives changed the lives of those they touched. She recalled a TV show she watched recently about how prevalent the apple industry was and what would happen if it collapsed. The farmer interviewed on the documentary, Applejack, had talked about her hard work being unappreciated by so many, but she could take solace in the fact that she knew she was keeping Equestria going like the train of progress that it was. Pinkie Pie didn’t even have the obscure fame that Applejack had obtained to fall back on. She looked up at the sign over the entrance of her business emblazoned with yellow letters that spelled “HAYBURGER.” She had this. This was all she had to her life. She was a cog in the wheel of a gray sleet that had overtaken her senses. All she could see was the senseless turning of nothingness that she had aspired to someday become. This was the job she applied for, and this was the job she got. If she didn’t want the job anymore, she could leave and another cog would replace her and she could become a cog somewhere else. She dreamed, as everypony did, of being something more. Maybe one day, long ago, she could have been something more. She’d decided to live the life of a cog in the wheel instead. Where that wheel was turning, she hadn’t the foresight to be curious about. Sure, she’d dreamed like her five friends had at a young age—all ponies did when they were in the prime of their lives. She was older now, though, and wiser. Their aspirations had taken them places, and hers had landed her at fast food. Saving the world then didn’t make the reality now alter in some spectacular fashion. Simply put, world-saving is not a sustainable business model, and she had to grow up someday. Another day at the Hayburger completed, she helped close and bid her coworkers a good night. She departed at dusk and began her standard commute home. As luck would have it, Twilight was strolling through Ponyville, apparently caught up in some errand that her Princess duties were necessary for. “Oh, hey Twilight!” “Oh… Pinkie.” Twilight obviously wasn’t impressed to see her. “What are you doing out here?” “Oh, just finished up another day of work at the Hayburger. I remember it used to be one of your favorite places to eat!” “Yeah... yeah, it was.” Twilight smiled fondly, her memories of the place coming back. It had been a great establishment—before Pinkie Pie began working there. “Why don’t I see you around there anymore, anyway? I thought we’d be able to talk and catch up every once in a while, but I never see you.” “Oh, I gotta watch my figure now. We’re both getting on in our years, Pinkie; you know how metabolism works.” Twilight didn’t remark on the partially protruding gut that Pinkie had acquired, likely due to what her typical lunch would entail at her place of work. “Yeah... I just didn’t think we’d see each other so little. Ah well, still friends forever, right?” Pinkie gave as big of a forced smile as she could manage. “Right, friends forever,” Twilight replied disinterestedly. “Anyway, I’ve got a, uh, important—an important errand. Duty calls. Great seeing you again, though. Maybe I’ll drop by the Hayburger one of these days!” “Sure, I’ll make sure to get some overtime in case you come by in the next week so I don’t miss you!” Pinkie Pie waved at Twilight’s departing figure. She knew, perhaps in her heart, that Twilight wasn’t going to show up. Her head told her that Twilight was her friend, but her heart knew better. She wished she could lead an interesting life like her friends, but her life was just bland and uninspired. Maybe some ponies were fated to end that way.