//------------------------------// // Chapter Two: Pinkie and Pinkamena // Story: Actions and Reactions: Saving Twilight Sparkle // by Lord of Flies //------------------------------// Sugarcube Corner April 10, 4E 2010 20:30 “Well,” Mrs. Cake said, “I think that went well.” “Yep,” was all Mr. Cake said in agreement. Today was the twins’ second birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Cake-with Pinkie’s help, of course-had put together a wonderful party for the twins. The twins had loved it, although Pumpkin had accidentally hit Princess Twilight with a platter of cupcakes as the filly tried levitating the platter over to her. Twilight had, to her credit, laughed the accident off, saying that she had done the same thing when she was their age, too. Pinkie, however, was not focused on the party’s success. She was working diligently to clean up after the party. And to ignore the angry voice inside her head. Mrs. Cake’s voice, soft and sweet, cut through Pinkie’s focus, bringing her out of her work. “Pinkie, are you alright, dear?” Pinkie stopped, blinked, looked at her boss, and replied, smiling and tilting her head slightly, “Yep, I’m alright. Why?” “Oh, it’s just that you just adopted a serious look and stopped humming.” “Oh,” Pinkie said, smiling larger, “you know how I get when I get focused on something.” Mrs. Cake nodded, and said, “You can head up to your room. Carrot and I can finish up.” “Okie-dokie!” With that, Pinkie bounced happily up the stairs. ************ Pinkie closed the door behind her. She walked over to one of her room’s walls, rested her back against it, and slid down the wall, sighing. “You know,” a voice said, “it’d be better if you let me out more often.” “Pinkamena.” “That’s my name, Pinkie, don’t wear it out.” Pinkie grumbled a response. Pinkamena reached down and tilted Pinkie’s head up gently, by the chin. “Come on, now,” the duller pink mare mocked, “you shouldn’t be such a meanie-face.” Pinkie jerked her head away from Pinkamena’s hand. “I hate you,” she said, frowning. “You’re always so frustrating.” “Well,” the other mare snarled, dragging Pinkie to her feet, “if you’d let me out occasionally, maybe I’d wouldn’t be this angry all the time.” “Pinkamena,” Pinkie responded, “I’m the Prime Personality, not you. That means I’m in control. I don’t have to do anything for you.” Pinkamena scoffed, and glared at the other mare. “You’re only the Prime because of that rainbow-haired whore.” “Dash isn’t a whore, Pinkamena.” “Sure, she is. Certainly gets around with all the stallions in Ponyville. And certain mares.” “Leave Dash out of this, Pinkamena. This has always between you and me. And it will remain that way.” Pinkamena shrugged, and replied, “You’re right, you’re right. It isn’t about others, it’s about us.” Pinkie stared at Pinkamena for a second, and snarled a reply, “But it always affects others!” “I know,” Pinkamena agreed, “and that makes it so fun!” “That’s not fair for anyone that gets dragged into this stupid game of ours!” “Come on, Pinks,” Pinkamena responded, “I’ve only killed four ponies in this little game of ours.” “Yes, but you forget that we share a body!” “I know we share a body, but we won’t get caught.” “But if one of us gets caught, it’ll be on my head.” Pinkamena visibly deflated, and replied, “Yeah, and we’ll both die if you’re executed.” The two argued for a few hours, trading insults and angry retorts. Then Pinkamena said something that upset Pinkie. Pinkie glared at Pinkamena, and snarled, “Marble is not a sensitive loser!” “She is!” “No, she’s not!” “Yes, she is!” “Shut up!” “No!” “Shut up! Shut up!” “No!” “SHUT UP!” “No!” Pinkie felt her anger boil within her. She clenched her fists. “Pinkamena-” “Pinkie, Marble is a stupid, ugly, and sensitive loser!” Pinkie roared, throwing a punch for Pinkamena’s throat. Her fist connected, but not with Pinkamena’s throat. She heard glass shatter and pain erupted in her fist. She stepped away from the shattered mirror and stared down at her fist. Pieces of glass stuck out of it and blood pooled around the pieces, before running down her fingers to drip onto the floor. Sighing, Pinkie plucked the glass shards out of her fist and held her bleeding hand as she walked over to her closet and pulled it open. Pulling a first aid kit from the closet, she put disinfectant ointment on her wounds and then covered the wounds with bandages. She looked down at her shirt and noticed that it and her pants were bloody, as well. A little growl escaped her mouth as she realized that she would need to change into something else to sleep in. ************ Pinkie woke to the feeling of arms being wrapped around her in a hug. A smell of sweets found its way into her nose. She knew that smell, and asked, “Mrs. Cake?” “Hmm mmm,” the confectioner replied. The two mares sat like that for a few minutes. Mrs. Cake then asked, “You okay, dear?” Pinkie sighed, sadly, “N-no…” “Pinkamena acting up again?” “Yeah. She called Marble mean names and I ended up breaking my mirror again.” Mrs. Cake glanced over at the mirror, seeing that it was shattered, as Pinkie had said. She remained silent for a few minutes and smiled, softly. “Pinkie,” she said, “how about you take the day off?” “B-but-” “You’ve got a lot of vacation days stored up, dear. Use one today. Besides, Carrot and I can handle one day’s worth of customers and orders.” Pinkie nodded, reluctantly. “I will, Mrs. Cake.” ************ Knocking at the door drew Applejack’s attention from her conversation. “Pardon me, Sergeant Major, someone’s at the door,” she apologized, rising from her seat, “Ah’ve got to go answer it.” “Take your time, Applejack,” the Sergeant Major replied, coolly, “I am but a guest.” Applejack shot a quick smile at her guest. Pulling the door open, Applejack saw Pinkie standing there. “Pinkie! What, uh, brings ya here? Aren’t you supposed to be workin’?” Pinkie nodded. “Mrs. Cake insisted I take the day off. So… Yeah.” “Alright. Still haven’t answered my first question.” Pinkie smiled, and said, “I’m here to see Braeburn!” Applejack opened her mouth to tell Pinkie that Braeburn was in Appleloosa, but remembered that he moved to Sweet Apple Acres, probably to be closer to Pinkie. “He’s out bringing in some apple bushels. Big Mac’ll probably take over apple bushel harvesting in… 15 minutes? Braeburn’ll come back to the farmhouse then.” “Okie-dokie! I’ll stay here then!” Applejack nodded, “Okay! Okay. Come in. Come in.” Pinkie entered the farmhouse, followed Applejack as the mare returned to the dining room and sat at the table. She noticed the other pony sitting at the table, as she sat down. “Who’s this? A friend?” The other pony, a mare, smiled and said, “Probably. I won’t be staying much longer, though.” Pinkie nodded, and extended a hand, smiling cheerily. “I’m Pinkie Pie.” The other mare took Pinkie’s hand and shook it, replying, “Sergeant Major Emerald O’Lace, pleased to meet you.” Emerald O’Lace had bright emerald eyes, which seemed to be silently judging. Maroon hair, having been cut to make it easier to wear a helmet, denoted the mare as a Royal Guard.* Minty green fur coated the mare head to toe. She wore a dark blue ulster coat over her fatigues. “Well,” she said, “I should probably get going. Good day.” As the mare rose and left, Applejack and Pinkie waved goodbye. *** Fifteen minutes later, Braeburn pulled open the door to the farmhouse and entered the building. A pink blur ran up to him and threw it arms around him. He chuckled slightly. “Hey, Pinkie,” he said, “Mrs. Cake insist that you take the day off?” Pinkie’s response, reminding the stallion of Pinkie’s younger sister, was pretty immediate, “Mm-hmm!” “Well,” he mused, “I’m touched. Let’s go spend the day together.” “That’s a wonderful idea!” *A pixie cut. Standard for mares in the Royal Guard.