Pirates of Equestria

by Lastingimage24

Grim Reunion (PT 1)

“YOU’RE A DICK YOU KNOW THAT?!”

“Pinkie Pie, what the hell?! That’s offensive, and you’re not even drunk!”

“After all I’ve done for you, you can’t give me a few drinks on the house? What kind of sick friendship is that?”

“It’d be different if you didn’t ask for free drinks every day! I can’t run a business if you drink half my inventory every week without me charging you for it.”

“I pay for the drinks… sometimes.”

“Yeah, keyword there. Look Pinks, if you don’t stop harassing me I’m gonna have to throw you out, I’m sorry.”

“BLOW ME.”

---

Pinkie tasted dirt as her face collided with the soft mud of the ground, sending a shocking pain down her neck and into her spine. It was a feeling she knew well, for she was out of the job and every bar she tried to get a complimentary drink reacted the same way. Yelling, insults, bouncer pony, dirt. It was admittedly getting really old, and Pinkie believed she wouldn't be able take any more falls before she got serious head trauma. But she wanted alcohol SOO BAD. Night after night of heavy drinking every day for two years and then suddenly stopping is like taking a baseball bat to the face while playing basketball. Unexpected for the body, and very, very painful. Pinkie has the willpower to stop an addiction, but the withdrawal was physically hurting her. It felt as if a small chipmunk crawled in her stomach and was nibbling on anything that was pink. Ironically that had happened before, but the withdrawal was even worse than that noodle incident.

Lost in thought, Pinkie's hoof caught on something hard, and she felt herself hurdle through the air for the seventh time that night. Y’know, I’m getting accustomed to the taste of dirt. It has this nice, earthy taste, Pinkie thought sarcastically. She spat out the dirt and turned to address what had the insensitivity to trip her while she was buzzed.

“A rock.”

It’s funny how some things just have a habit of popping up. Pinkie sighed.

“Dumb rock.”

“Who ya callin’ dumb?” Pinkie squealed and jumped back from the talking rock. She quickly reached to her mane to check its volume and strangely found it still poofy. Great. Now rocks are talking to me. She hadn't even converted to her crazy personality. That means her sane side is going insane. That can't be good. She might set something on fire… again.

“’Ey I’m talkin’ to ya!” a voice called behind her. Pinkie turned around to meet the eyes of pony that spoke, and her eyes met up with three large, menacing stallions.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry; I’m kind smashed right now.” Well that was a lie. It was just a slight buzz. “What’s up?”

The pony ignored her. “You can’t call ponies dumb,” he said, a paper thin smile spreading across his face. “That makes you a bad filly. Bad fillies got to get spanked…”

Oh. OH. Oh shit. Pinkie Pie was in no mood nor condition to get raped. She frantically turned to see her surroundings. The tropical forests of Port Corral enveloped three empty-looking huts around her. Nopony around. There was no way Pinkie could take on three buff stallions, and her buzz made it impossible to run with anywhere without taking an embarrassing blunder five steps in. Defeated, Pinkie sighed and said, “Could ya at least be gentle?”

All she heard was a quickly spoken “nope” before she felt the weight of the stallion’s hoof make contact with her skull. A deafening crack and Pinkie was face down (AGAIN) in the mud. She felt something tug violently at her tail, but, before she could turn her head to investigate, a hoof slammed into the back of her head, pushing her further into the mud.

“Now be a big girl and don’t scream,” one of the stallions whispered into her ear before laughing manically. Man, I couldn’t even get nice rapists? Hello painful death, meet river under a bridge. Oh my, don’t you two both look beautiful together?

Pinkie awaited the inevitable insertion, and the eventual loss of consciousness. She knew full well if she lost consciousness she might never wake up. But the...'weapon' never came (HAHA, sex pun. I'm brilliant.)

Pinkie heard what sounded like a hoof hitting a rock, one of the stallions grunting in pain, and a blomph noise. It sounded distinctly like a sack of potatoes being thrown into another sack of potatoes. Pinkie Pie, still tipsy, finally realized that the pressure of the stallion’s hoof on the back of her mane was mysteriously gone. She lifted her head to examine her surroundings, and she was greeted with the view of two unconscious ponies, whom Pinkie identified as the two grunts helping the rapist who had called the shots. Pinkie heard another potato sack noise, and turned to the left to inspect it. A yellow Pegasus in a sailor suit with a pink mane and black streaks in it was what filled her vision. That, and the stallion she was stabbing with a long, curved sword. Holy balls in a bowl, Batman!

The stallion’s body went limp, life leaving his carcass. Pinkie noticed that he was the only pony her savior had killed, a fact which she was thankful for. Pinkie knew that if something wasn’t done about him he would continue his doucheness to mares everywhere, but there were always alternatives to killing. Pinkie didn’t let it bother her though, most likely because she would’ve died this night if it weren’t for the pegasus. “Thanks,” she finally said. “You saved my life.”

“So you don’t recognize me?” the menacingly cute and forebodingly soft voice replied. Pinkie knew that voice…

“C’mon…” the yellow pegasus said slowly, as if the fact Pinkie didn’t remember her gave her some sort of sadistic pleasure.

“Ponyville?” she asked. Ponyville? Pinkie mulled over her alcohol-filmed thoughts. She didn’t think she knew any yellow pony… Wait… Fl-

“Been a long time…” The Pegasus in the sailor bard said darkly. “Pinkie.”

Pinkie gasped as she recalled that same innocent face, except this one was twisted with experience, and knowledge of the evil around her. In disbelief, the pink pony whispered, “Fluttershy?”

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