“Bye everypony!” Pinkie called to her friends. She had thrown a pretty great party. There wasn’t a particular reason, she just wanted to.
“That was a good party!” Pinkie Pie said to herself.
The lamp on her desk shook its head furiously.
“You don’t have to be rude, lamp. I’m quite proud of that party, and you can’t take that away from me.” Pinkie stated with a hmf.
The lamp tilted its head repeatedly upward as if laughing at her.
“I’m sure your mom didn’t teach you to be that mean. Apologize for your harsh words.” Pinkie Pie commanded.
The lamp shook its head no and stuck its head up in the air pompously.
“Oh come on! You just have to say one little sorry. It’s not that hard.” Pinkie said as politely as she could manage.
The lamp didn’t budge.
“Two can play at that game!” Pinkie announced, staring at the lamp.
The lamp stared back. Pinkie didn’t last very long. In her defence, the lamp was very bright.
“Okay, you win, but that doesn’t mean my parties aren’t something to be proud of,” Pinkie stated, rubbing her eyes.
The lamp rocked on its base protestantly. The parties were too loud and had too many sweets. The decorations were obnoxious, and confetti was everywhere afterwards. It was no good to have so many parties.
“Hey! Watch your language! This is a respectable household.” Pinkie said, slightly offended.
The lamp rocked again, though this time less aggressively.
“Just because there’s cupcake on the top of the building doesn’t mean this isn’t a prestigious establishment,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly.
The lamp rolled its head (mostly because it didn’t have eyes).
“I have never met a being so disrespectful in my life!” Pinkie said exasperatedly. She sat on the sofa, purposefully facing away from the lamp. The sofa cushion squeaked in protest. “You don’t hate me too do you sofa?”
The sofa was silent for a moment, before squeaking a soft a cautious ‘no’ to pinkie Pie. It had seen what happened to the pillow that betrayed Pinkie. It was not a pretty sight.
The lamp flickered, attempting to reason with the sofa. The lamp was tired of Pinkie Pie’s tyranny. It had to come to an end!
“Please don’t turn on me sofa! I can’t stand up against this lamp alone!” Pinkie exclaimed.
The sofa remained allegiant to Pinkie. It was too afraid to find out what would happen if it didn’t. It rocked back and forth in protest to the lamp’s claims and promptly dropped pinkie onto the floor. Realizing its mistake, it apologized profusely.
“It’s okay sofa, you didn’t mean to hurt me. Unlike this cur here.” Pinkie said, turning her nose up at the lamp.
The clock chimed in agreement. The grandfather clock had never heard of such horrid words in its life! The fact that they came from a lamp was even more astonishing. The clock chimed and rocked about the state of today’s youth, which caused it to fall over, cracking the glass on the face, and shattering the bottom panel of glass. It lay motionless on the ground.
‘Noooooooooo!!!!!!” Pinkie yelled, sliding along the wood floor on her back knees. She rushed over to the clock with tears in her eyes.
“Speak to me!” She said as she clutched it in her arms, a tear sliding down her face. “It’s going to be okay.” She tried her best to tell the clock to hold on, but it was too late. Not a chime was left to be heard.
The furniture in the room was silent in respect to the now dead clock. Pinkie cried quietly. The lamp was responsible for this horror. It had to pay. Pinkie Pie jumped over the table, grabbing the lamp as she went down. She wrestled the lamp throwing several punches, and screaming improvised curses. All the furniture were cheering Pinkie on except for a small table, which had fallen for the lamp.
“It’s your fault you son of a rocky road!” She yelled, punching the lamp right in the bulb. “Ow! Hey, why didn’t that break?”
The lamp laughed, smacking Pinkie up the face with its base. Pinkie Pie flew across the room in slow motion. She landed on an armchair beside the small table that wasn’t rooting for her. She picked up the table and began beating the lamp with it. The cheering volume lowered around Pinkie as they all realized how messed up the display in front of them was.
The table split in half and Pinkie threw each side to opposite ends if the room.
“You will never be invited to another party again!” Pinkie yelled, unaware of Mr. and Mrs. Cake watching her with terrified faces from the doorway.
“Should we get help?” Mr. Cake whispered as quietly as possible.
“I don’t know.” Mrs. Cake whispered back still watching Pinkie shout at the desk lamp. “Do we send a letter to her parents, or handle it ourselves? I mean, at least it’s not as mutilated as the pillow she had a fallout with last month. Has she been taking the medication her doctor gave her?”
“I’m not sure.” Mr. Cake answered. “Do you want me to check?”
“Yes. I think it’s time to switch her to regular pills. the gummies might be too candy-like. She might have had an overdose.” Mrs. Cake explained.
Mr. Cake snuck out of the room backwards so he wouldn’t be caught off guard if Pinkie noticed him.
With a shattered bulb, the lamp’s head turned to the side. Pinkie Pie stood triumphantly, the battle had finally been won. She felt proud, but part of herself still had doubts. She had just killed a perfectly good lamp. Sure it wasn’t a nice lamp, but that didn’t mean she had to be so cruel.
“Her prescription has been needing a refill for two months.” Mr. Cake whispered.
“That would explain things.” Mrs. Cake whispered back. “Earlier today she apologized to a batch of cookies she was going to serve at the party she just threw. We need to talk with her doctor.”
“Definitely.” Mr. Cake agreed.
Pinkie sat on the floor and stared at the lamp.
Maybe the Cakes were right. Do other Ponies argue with lamps? Pinkie thought. Probably not.