Will she ever leave me alone! You grind your teeth, although trying not to show your discomfort. It's like a bad National Geographic documentary or something. "Oh, joy, the wild unicorn stalks her prey," you mutter, "now coming upon him in a vulnerable moment, she moves in for the 'mauling'."
"Lyra, what's going on! Since when are you a roof-er pony?" Pinkie bursts out. "Oooh! Oooh! I know! You're one of those chimney-sweeper ponies coming to take your long pole-y thing-ies and cram those down to suck up the dirty stuff. Sorry, there! Problem is-- we gotsta no roof!" Her voice squeaks a bit, sounding even more adorable than usual. "It like exploded and stuff!"
You glance around all over, feeling very confused. Wait, where the hell is she? You suddenly spot Pinkie, having appeared right behind Lyra up amongst a ruined piled of ceiling tiles high above you. Stupid teleporting, non-physics-obeying Pinkie! Lyra simply stares at you, her eyes bulging out in such a creepy way. Pinkie, once again, seems either totally oblivious of Lyra's obsession or simply uncaring.
"Oh, Snoopy," Lyra loudly moans, her fluffy teal mane shifting about. "Is this a new look? A new fashion? I love it!" She claps, giving a little wink. "It's like 'haute couture', isn't it?" She curls up her up her hooves as she sticks out in the air towards you, just barely keeping from falling over from the wooden planks that she stood on.
"Yes, yes," you say back, trying in vain to brush off the pink coloring that has been embedded into your arms. "I just love looking like I ate the experimental candy in Willy Wonka's factory or something." Your sarcasm seems to zoom right over the heads of both mares. You cringe. And, by the way, didn't that blueberry chick like die or something? I know that the fat chocolate boy got put into the damn furnace or something.
"Oh, who is this Willy that you keep talking about, Snoopy?" Pinkie asks. She hops from derelict plank to derelict plank remaining from what had used to be the roof. "Oh, and Lyra!"
The unicorn doesn't want to take her eyes off you. They've shrunk into something normal, with hearts almost flying from her pupils, but you still feel creeped out. Pinkie leaps to the side and bounces up onto Lyra's back, surprising the hell out of her. Pinkie leans a little to the side and laughs.
"Oh, sorry, poor chimney-sweeping-mare, but we gots no roof so we gots nothing to clean!" Pinkie thrusts her hooves forwards and idly plays with Lyra's mane. The unicorn opens up her mouth, not sure how to begin to answer. Pinkie just cuts Lyra off. "But, oh, gosh! I know! You could always apply to work at Lulus!"
"Pinkie," you call out, slapping your hands against your pants. This is freaking pointless!
"Oh, they've got this new addition to their roof! It's all tall and high and stuff. It's meant for parties as like a promenade and stuff, just perfect for those late-night romantic-ish parties! I was just there two days before the day after tomorrow but three days before Friday although two weeks after the fortnight a while ago!" Pinkie rattles on.
"Isn' that-- today?" Lyra answers.
"Oh, that's right!" Pinkie says. "I was there today!" She hops over to Lyra's side, leaning up against her. "And, wow, did I find out what they'll have for Roseluck's next party tomorrow!"
"Pinkie!" you yell.
"It's like an animals party with like ponies dressed as like bees and squirrels and bunnies and woodland thingies and stuff!" Pinkie laughs. "Isn't that something? I wonder if I'll see Junebug dressed as a big squirrel. Oh, hey! That reminds me of that time that I used to have three pet squirrels! It's a great story, and it all goes back to that one night in Everfree when Twilight's old green--"
"Pinkie!" you scream out, pumping your fists into the air.
"What?"
"Fix this! Fix it, now!" You run your pink hands through your sweat soaked pink hair, your breaths turning into pants.
"Oh, right." A flat, blank expression flashes over Pinkie. She shifts around her hooves, and she makes something like an imaginary camera in front of her. She makes loud clicking sounds as she focuses from spot to spot around the ruined kitchen. You freeze in place, trying to calm yourself. Pinkie jumps down from the roof and takes imaginary photographs all around.
"Well?"
"Hold on, I'm processing," Pinkie replies. She coughs, and she suddenly stops in place. She suddenly lies down on the floor. She slides her hooves around her head, making sounds like a copy machine or a printer. Her mane wiggles about as he body shivers upon the floor.
"Uh, Pinkie?" Lyra says, carefully trying to step down some overturned refrigerators down from the edges of what used to be the roof over to the floor.
Pinkie closes her eyes, and you see something like pink steam shooting out of her ears. You move down and put your hands around her, no idea how to even think about this. "Pinkie? Are you okay? Talk to me!"
*Pop!*
You blink. You can hardly believe your eyes, but you see something like a white Polaroid picture card sliding out of Pinkie's mouth. You pick it out of her mouth, not thinking but just acting by instinct, and you glare at it. She scampers back to action, twirling around in a circle for a second before popping her body against your leg.
"I know!" Pinkie calls out.
"And?" Lyra asks. You look over, and you see her slyly trying to slide up next to you-- fur upon skin-- just as Pinkie has. You frown.
"Everything is destroyed!"
Pinkie bucks up on her hind hooves and gestures all about. She makes a deeply profound look as her mane droops down and her nose curls up, as if she had just proved string theory or discovered Atlantis or heard Celestia say Roseluck throws better parties.
You just put your palm against your face.
"Yes, I'm well aware of that."
"And you're-- you're-- pink!" Pinkie takes a hoof and rubs it across your belly.
"Y-y-y-yes..."
You try not to collapse onto the floor from the ticklish feelings, little fluffy explosions bursting inside your head. Pinkie takes her hoof off of you, with Lyra watching intently. You turn around, sitting upon the counter. You make a deep, burning frown. You feel your cheeks sinking, and you glare at Pinkie, your patience almost totally exhausted.
"So," you say, "what do we do about--"
"Picture!"
You look down at the Polaroid-like thing in your hands. It seems to be a photograph of a letter.
Dear Pinkie,
We're so proud of how well life has treated you in Ponyville. Well, your father and I have joked for a long time that you'd be the first mare to send a low-orbiting satellite across Equestria. If you're reading this message at this moment then-- surprise, surprise-- you've actually done it. Now, Pinkie, you need to be more careful, not just for your own sake but for the sake of other ponies around you.
We strongly suggest that you send some of your pegasii friends after whatever flying object (your father has bet me that it'll be a party pinata, while I say it'll be a cooking container) you've sent into space. If that's not possible, please visit your friend Twilight and ask for her assistance. Perhaps she can cast a magical spell that will give you wings.
Sincerely,
Mom
P.S. Avoid that Lyra character. She's so... off-putting. She seems like the mare that would cop a feel across your backside while you're engrossed in doing something else.
{This picture was brought to you by Spring Step's House of Edible Photographs }
You pause. You take a little breath, and you cram the tip of the picture into your mouth. You chew. Ooooh! You smile as you crunch it down. It's like a flat graham cracker with chocolate on the insides! It suddenly strikes you that this had been in Pinkie's mouth for quite a while until you bit into it, and you stop. You shrug. But you abruptly feel a rubbing along your back.
You flip around, glaring at Lyra. She simply stands against the wall, whistling innocently. You glance back at the photograph, and you can't get over your big bite mark left in the side.
"What's it say?" Pinkie asks, jumping up against your sides and almost grabbing your shoulders. You try to keep yourself standing up straight, and you hand over the picture. She lets out a loud 'oh', and she surveys up and down every last inch of it.
"So--"
"So!" Pinkie yells out. She throws the photograph back into her mouth, crunching it down in a split-second. "Let's head for Twilight's!"
"Thank God," you moan. "And can I finally--"
"No time to lose!"
Pinkie clutches your side. You let out an 'eep', and the two of you gash out of the kitchen's door out the hallway and to the exit. Lyra simply sits back in the middle of the kitchen, trying not to follow that closely. You half-run and Pinkie half-carries you like a rag-doll along the middle of Ponyville.
Pony after pony stops and stares at the two of you. You don't wave back. You don't even have the time or ability to think, Pinkie's body somehow grabbing onto your back. It seems like some kind of demented horseback riding, but your legs drag across the gravely street.
Before you know it, she's flung you forwards onto Twilight's door. You throw your hands out in front of you. Pinkie zips over in the way in a split-second, and you find both of you smooshed against the side of Twilight's wall. Her fluffy mane and tail has somehow softened things enough that you feel unhurt, although suddenly totally exhausted.
"Pinkie, uh," you moan, trying to get your breath back, "what, uh, are you, uh, gonna, urrrgh, say?" You spit upon the ground. You lean against a window, blinking rapidly as your lungs suck up air.
*Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!*
Pinkie just attacks the door, her hooves scraping up and down as if she wanted to turn the wood into splinters. You hear loud groaning inside. Somepony walks over.
"Okay, I'm coming! Seriously!" Twilight says, Pinkie still going on and on, "Seriously! You don't need to alert everypony in Ponyville!"
Pinkie stops as the door opens, and she grabs you. You flail your arms around as she holds you and props you against the swinging door handle. You see Twilight, the purple unicorn's body covered by what seems like a gigantic white raincoat with thick black sunglasses and long black stockings on, and you meekly smile.
"What is it?" she asks. The sunglasses slide down a little on her face, and you can tell that she finds your bright pink-colored skin, hair, clothes, and everything else as weird as you do.
"Ummm..." you mutter. What the hell did just happen? "I..." You clap your hands together. You look at Pinkie. She hops up besides you with her bottom hooves sliding around the ground, looking like your own personal cheerleader. You take a gulp. "Well, Pinkie wanted to make self-popping popcorn. She swiped some of your milk of amorous clover. She used it with this mix with other stuff. The kitchen was all exploded." You point all across your body as you take a deep breath. "I got turned into a mix of human, Pinkie Pie, and a berry cocktail. We also launched this magically powered rocket pot thing that we have to take out ASAP." You make a pained, forced smile. "And that's... it."
Twilight leaned back, rubbing her back against a side-table. She throws off her sunglasses, beginning to sweat. "Oh," Twilight moans, "not again!"
Something doesn't feel right. You don't move. You just think. What the hell did Twilight just say? You suddenly feel as if your insides are melting.
"Again!" you scream. You hop up and down in place, hands going through your fluffy pink mane-like hair and almost ripping it out. "What the hell do you mean-- 'again'!"
Twilight puts a hoof against your side, motherly affection almost dripping from her. "Oh, Snoopy," she replies, "this is a big deal to you. But, for Pinkie Pie--" Twilight glances over at the happy, bouncy mare that had just scooted around into her library, glancing around at the various books. "Turning things pink while exploding rooms is like... Tuesday."
To Be Continued...