At the M.L.P. Con!

by Ponyess

Finding Myself: 4

Maybe I should have expected it? I had found the flute, my cutie represented. It may be just a simple flute, but upon finding it, I make a silly little dance of joy.

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Since the flute is a part of me, it is the talent I had apparently been born with, as the pony I'm Impersonating, even if the effects of it apparently did go through? If I had known, had I chosen another mark, and another talent?

Given the cutie mark I had chosen, this will be an adventure, and a vacation from myself, in more ways than I had even dared to expect. I just don’t know it right now. I am simply at home, as the Pony I had chosen to be; or become, for the duration.

This is what my choices had led up to, and the life I will enjoy for a week; or that is what they had said in the advertisement. Just a funny thing I had never considered; what are they going to call me, as the Pony I am now.

It is obvious that I will be good at playing my flute, and that I enjoy music; just as I would enjoy performing, playing the flute in public. It would be ridiculous to insane to have a mark; representing something I wouldn’t enjoy in public, wouldn’t it?

The issue is just this; was I a Soloist, or a member of a group or band? I imagine I was bound to have been booked in advance; in order for the other Ponies to know where and when I was to be performing. There are a number of places; where I could ask, or look for the notice.

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Am I expecting too much, if I am assuming that I would have known of it, if it had been the same day, or the next? There is the one idea I had, so I need to go out and have something to eat.

All I need to carry, or wear; is my saddle bag with the bits to pay for what I like to have. In Ponyville, most Ponies are trotting around freely, while wearing nothing. Nudity is the common fashion, as it were. Of course, it is also practical to carry things in the saddle bags; considering that I don’t even have hands.

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I hastily checked the contents of the saddle bags, before I slapped them onto my back; before I exited my home and trotted towards the first establishment serving food that came to mind. Trotting to the Sugar-Cube Corner was a breeze. Ponyville is a fairly small village, now as I think of it; and ponies can go great distances in a surprisingly short time.

Naturally, it is Pinkie Pie, greeting me as I entered the café. Who else? I know the café belongs to Mr. Carrot Cake and Mr’s. Dazzle Cake, but it is Pinkie Pie who is enjoying the spot. She is beaming of a grin, as hot as the laser at me as she sees me; as the chimes sing their merry call, announcing my arrival.

“Hiya, I am Pinkie Pie, but call me Pinkie! What can I serve you, today?” she exclaimed, ecstatically.

“Hi, Pinkie!” I responded, taken aback by her extreme, radiant exuberance.

I looked at all the pastries, lined up for Ponies just like myself to gorge on. Of course there are muffins and cupcakes, but also all manners of other pastries. I don’t even know what they are named; let alone what they would taste like, and that is if they are tasting like they would have before.

“I think I will have a blueberry muffin and a glass of juice!” I added, pointing my right fore-hoof at one particular muffin.

“That’ll be two bits!” she concluded, as she scooped up the pastry and placed it on a small white plate and poured up the juice in a glass.

I opened my saddle bags and picked up the two bit coins and hoofed them over. I noticed how they were jumping around and bounced a few times, before they came to rest. Pinkie collected the coins and slipped them into the counted.

“Step right in, and sit by the table of your choice; then I will come to your table and serve you!” she pointed out.

Before my eyes, I see Ponies scattered all over the room. Sitting comfortably and relaxed as they enjoy themselves. Chatting away about the day, while chewing pastries and washing it down with their respective choice of beverage.

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