• Published 27th Oct 2011
  • 4,519 Views, 106 Comments

Blue Days - BlackM



Blues is having a bad day. Can the Mane Six make it better?

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A Hearty Dose of Laughter

A Hearty Dose of Laughter

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“It sure is empty out here.”

The sun was halfway into the sky as Blues strolled through the village. It was lunch time and most of the ponies in the village were either in their homes eating or going to home to eat. The most commotion outside was either at the diners, like the one Twilight was talking about, or at the Apple family’s farm, where ponies were lining up for lunch. It was that rare moment in the village where every pony would rather prefer to stay inside and relax with a bowl of veggies to munch on rather than stay outside to play under the sun. Certainly, Celestia wouldn’t mind every pony taking this time off during the day; she was probably having lunch herself.

Speaking of lunch…

“Ugh, those roses weren’t enough…” Blues mumbled as his stomach bellowed.

He ignored his howling stomach. He had food back home at the apartment. He’ll fix himself a snack while he reads and studies sophistication.

“I hope I still have a few fresh carrots left…” he said, thinking about how most of the food in his fridge had already started to decompose. Sighing in disappointment, he spoke in a sad muse, “I should have gone to lunch with Twilight…”

“You know Twilight?”

Blues turned to his right in the direction of the voice. All he saw was the side of Sugar Cube Corner he hadn’t noticed he was passing by. Looking around, there weren’t any ponies in sight that looked like they wanted his attention. It was odd; he swore he heard some pony talk to him.

“Over here!”

Blues turned to his other side, seeing only nothingness and a few stray ponies in the distance minding their own business. He hoped it wasn’t another occurrence where some pony was addressing another and he just happened to be in between. Blues had had his hope dashed each time it happened followed by an embarrassing trot away from other ponies. It was the primary reason he didn’t like crowds.

“Yoo hoo!”

Blues finally met the owner of the voice, in an encounter that completely caught him off guard. From out of nowhere was a pink mare’s pair of blue eyes, staring into his tan eyes with an apathetic look. It wasn’t just how she managed to appear out of nowhere, without a sound, that surprised him. It was also how close she stood to him, face to face, muzzles nearly touching each other in an uncomfortable way. It would elicit a severe infraction for invasion of personal space if such were a law, and this pony would have been an outlaw in a matter of weeks.

His reaction was the norm for any pony who had their first encounter with Pinkie Pie. Shout in surprise.

“GAH!”

Fall backwards.

“Oof!”

Receive an oblivious comment from the mare after she giggled, “You fell.”

And reply with a deadpan remark as you recover from the shock, “I can see that.”

The stallion shook himself of dirt as he stood, shedding a little dust cloud that disappeared into the wind. He turned to the pink pony, absentmindedly staring at him, and tried to give his best glare he could. As he got a better look at the mare’s features, it suddenly came to him who this pony was. No pony could forget that pink and hot pink color scheme, her puffy uncombed mane and tail, and her energetic expression that had never seen a sad day in her life. Not to mention, her iconic blue and yellow balloons cutie mark was a dead giveaway.

“Wait a minute,” he spoke, holding a hoof up for euphemism, “You’re that party pony, Pinkie Pie, right?”

“And you’re that lowly blue stallion who plays at Hoofington’s Pub, Blues. The one with the sax, right?”

Blues stood there with his hoof held in the air as Pinkie delivered a brief description of his very self. He was surprised to hear that one pony had known so much about him for an indefinite amount of time, and he hadn’t even met her. Actually, he recalled having a short talk with her back in his teenage years in Ponyville, consisting of a quick introduction, personal info rundown, and a hasty goodbye so that she could have done the same for the next pony. It was the day Pinkie Pie had moved into PonyVille and started working at Sugar Cube Corner; also the day every birthday party became a signature Pinkie Pie party.

But he had never become personally acquainted with the pink mare, until now.

“How…did you-”

“I know every pony in PonyVille,” she said, cutting him off as she strolled a little with swagger, “I keep check of town gossip as well as who comes and goes in and out of town.”

The brief stun wore off as the pony explained herself, encouraging interest in the pink mare as Blues decided to ask her a little more about her job.

“Every pony?” he repeated, “That’s a lot of ponies to keep count of.”

“Not really,” she said, stopping to face the blue stallion, “Once you get the names down and birthdays memorized, it’s not much of a hassle from then on.”

“Birthdays?” he repeated again, “Why would you want to memorize every pony’s birthday?”

“Birthday parties, of course!” Pinkie exclaimed happily, arms held in the air as a random cloud of confetti exploded.

Blues mentally slapped himself. What other motive could this partier have for knowing birthdays? It was so obvious.

“So, you go to each one?” he asked.

“Well, actually, I set up the parties. Well, I used to,” she said in a less joyful feeling, “My partying started to get in the way of my work at the Sugar Cube Corner,” at this, her speaking pace began to pick up as she went on, “which makes me sad because I can’t handle thinking if some pony out there isn’t having the best birthday like they should. They might be sad or lonely or having a bad day or some pony didn’t get them the presents they wanted, and that just makes me feel terrible. For the ones I do manage to go to, I try to make the parties especially wonderful and joyous to make up for years of absence. Of course, every party I throw is super wonderful and joyous, but I try hard to make up for parties unhad over the years and make every birthday party super spectacular.”

Blues tried to keep up with the pony’s rambling as her paragraph seemed to run even faster than her own mouth. Thankfully, Blues was a good listener, not being one to talk much, but a pony like Pinkie Pie was the sort of mare who simply talked too much. Or too fast. Or both. Regardless, Blues was patient enough to wait for the mare to finish her explanation, but decided for himself when he was to intervene with a question.

“You certainly are a party animal Pinkie,” he commented, the mare grinning in response, “but birthday parties aren’t that different from regular parties.”

“Not that different?” Pinkie repeated.

Blues gulped. He could feel another onslaught of words coming from the pink mare.

“Birthday’s are the most important parties you could ever have! It’s not just any party, it celebrates the day you were born! The day every pony around you acknowledge your very existence! The day your entire family and your friends set aside any plans and spend their bits to have a party to celebrate your birth! Saying birthday parties are not that different from regular parties would be like saying bicycles are not so different from tricycles, or unicycles! Or bagels aren’t that different from donuts! Or apples aren’t that different from pears, and I have a friend who would greatly disagree with you there! A birthday party is only had once a year, and it has to be the best party you would ever have all year to show you how important you are to the ponies who are there! Too long, didn’t read, birthday parties are not different from regular parties!”

Blues and Pinkie Pie stood there, the stallion physically pushing against the ground and the mare heaving a little to catch her breath from her long explanation. Both ponies were silent as the two stared at each other, Pinkie Pie’s breathing easing as time went on. Finally, Blues blinked and smiled embarrassingly as he chuckled apologetically.

“Uhh, eheheh…sorry about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his head modestly, “I just, never saw the difference, actually…”

Pinkie Pie smiled, already forgiven of the colt, as she reached an arm to the stallion and gave him a quick hug, Blues flushing slightly from it.

“Aww, it’s okay,” she said as she pulled away, “…you’ve never had a real birthday party, have you?”

Blues scratched at the ground before him. He looked down in memory of his past birthdays; they weren’t much to remember.

“Ehh, not really,” he said, “The most I would get for my birthday would be a birthday card from my dad, and my mom coming over and making me pea soup. If I’m lucky, my dad gives me a good hundred bits, but that was shortly after I had moved out of the house. I never got any real presents from my family and no pony really bothers to visit me, much less remember what the day was, if they even knew.”

Pinkie stared and frowned at Blues as he relayed his lame birthdays. This was what usually happened to any pony who took the time to speak to Blues. Everything he had to say or every story he had to tell were depressing and brought down jovial moods, which was why most ponies tended to avoid speaking with Blues if given the choice. Now, Blues had hoped that his story hadn’t permanently turned off the mare from future talks with him. It wouldn’t bother him, though. One less pony that cared about him was one more pony that wouldn’t miss him.

The mare sighed, a norm reaction for Blues, “This is what I’m talking about. Some pony may be having an unspectacular totally NOT happy birthday party, and I wouldn’t even know of it. But now I know that some ponies don’t even have birthday parties at all! You must be so sad.”

Blues was a little impressed with himself that the normally happy Pinkie Pie had been depressed by his story, if it was anything to be proud of. It proved a few things; his meager birthday retellings were his lightest downers yet they still brought down sad feelings, and that not even a perpetually happy pony like Pinkie Pie could stay immune to his depressing stories. It was a no brainer why no one liked talking to Blues.

As quickly as the pink mare became saddened, she became cheerful and energetic again, much to Blues surprise.

“Don’t worry! When your birthday comes around, I’ll make sure you have a super duper specTACular birthday party to make up for the ones you didn’t have!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed as she began to fidget at the thought, “You’ve never had a real birthday party until you’ve experienced one of my signature Super Spectacular Pinkie Pie Party Extravaganza parties!”

Blues felt touched by the mare’s motive to throw him a party upon hearing he hadn’t had one for his past birthdays. Well, he would feel grateful if it weren’t for the pony’s strange overzealousness for a total stranger like him.

That, and he’s heard things about what happens at Pinkie Pie’s parties. Ponies get hurt.

“Uhh, thanks for the offer, Pinkie, but…” Blues said as he thought of a kinder way to say no to the mare.

As he did, his stomach let out a conspicuous rumble for all within the vicinity to hear, diverting the subject of the conversation to the noise of hunger. Pinkie Pie only giggled in response to the rumbling, even though she only found it humorous and didn’t mean it in an insulting way. It was a sort of involuntary response to chuckle at hunger when it was loud. Nevertheless, Blues was embarrassed with himself.

“Uhh, sorry about that,” he apologized, looking away, “I didn’t exactly have a full breakfast today…”

Pinkie Pie only giggled at his modesty, “Well then, I’ve got some doughnuts in the pantry that’ll fill you right up. You can’t have a happy day without a happy stomach.”

Before Blues could object to her kindness, the pony had disappeared in a flash, a faint trail of pink zooming into the bakery nearby. He looked to the swaying doors of Sugar Cube Corner to the spot Pinkie Pie was standing in, then back to the bakery in disbelief. Blues scratched his head as he pondered how the mare could move so fast, until his thoughts were cut short when a pink flash zoomed out of the building and stopped right in front of him, surprised the stallion once again.

“…please don’t that again,” he said in a deadpan tone.

“Do what?” Pinkie Pie asked obliviously.

Blues was about to repeat himself when he realized he couldn’t explain what the pink pony had just done. Whatever she did, he was certain it violated a few laws of physics. This was Pinkie Pie after all, so confusion was the norm for any pony associating with her.

Blues looked down near the mare’s feet to see a bag with two candy canes printed on it, a signature product of Sugar Cube Corner. It emanated a sweet scent like that of the bakery it came from, causing his stomach to echo louder with a rumble like a dog beckoning for food.

“Are those for me?” he asked, the mare nodding approvingly, “I can’t…”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t have any money on me right now-”

“It’s on the house.”

“Really?” he said in disbelief, the mare nodded again, “Still, I don’t know…”

“Just take it,” she said, pushing the bag towards him with her muzzle, “I give free stuff to customers all the time. Well, I used to until Mr. and Mrs. Cake told me it was bad business so I had to stop doing that or else I’d get fired. But I know they’d never fire me because I am their best apprentice, but it was sill a scary feeling when they first told me. But I still manage to sneak a few free doughnuts for good friends of mine, and you’d have to be a really good friend of mine for me to sneak a free pastry for you, because I consider everyone my friend, so only my closest friends get free doughnuts. Of course, that would make me prone to giving them free stuff all the time, but a good friend would never take advantage of that. That’s why they’re called good friends, because you can trust them to-”

“Alright! I’ll take your free doughnuts!” Blues almost shouted, patience worn thin from the mare’s third run on tangent.

The pink pony stared at the stallion for a short while to process the interruption. At this, Blues was afraid he may have hurt the mare’s feelings by hastily interrupting her word storm. He had never raised his voice at another pony, he was too shy for that, and now he regretted it as he stared into those blue eyes, hoping to be able to plead for forgiveness after the moment was over.

However, the mare smiled, to Blues surprised, at his decision to take the doughnuts despite his denial. If Blues didn’t know any better, his outburst was probably a scheme of hers.

It was Pinkie Pie, after all.

“Yay! You’ll love them, I’m sure you will,” she said before taking the bag in her mouth and walking over to Blues saddlebags to place them there herself. Blues would have done it himself, but the mare was so insistent and she had done it so quickly, he couldn’t get a word in before she had already fastened the bags closed.

“Uhh, thanks,” Blues said, unsure how to wrap up this encounter with the pony. He had somewhere to go and not a lot of time left…

“No problem,” the mare replied with a bright smile.

“Uhh, I have to get going now…” he said, hoping the mare wouldn’t take his words as an excuse to get away from her. He didn’t mind his time spent with Pinkie Pie, in all honesty. He just didn’t want to waste too much time talking to her when he could be reading.

“Oh, alright,” Pinkie Pie said, “If you ever get a sweet tooth, you know where to stop by,” she finished with a wink.

“Yeah, uhh, this place right?”

The mare nodded, “And I’ll have your birthday marked on my calendar too, for that special Super Spectacular Pinkie Pie Party Extravaganza! It’s January the thirteenth, right?”

Blues could only pretend to smile at this. He didn’t like the idea of such a huge party being thrown on his behalf. That and he didn’t like the idea of some pony knowing his birthday by memory; it was eerie in thought. But there was little he could do against the party being thrown for him. Pinkie Pie made parties happened, whether you liked it or not.

“Uhh, yeah. That’s the day…” Blues said as he began trotting his way back home, “Umm, see you later?”

The pink mare waved, “Sure! I’ll see you in seven months!”

Blues put on an uncomfortable smile again. Seven months was in January.

Oh well. At least it was seven long months until he had to take an earful of Pinkie Pie again.

Or just a few minutes.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice you had some books in your bags. You were just at the library, right? That means you know Twilight. That’s what you were talking about before, right?”

It only took a few minutes of silence before the pink mare decided to catch up to him and speak about what had slipped her mind in their previous conversation. At first, he thought the mare’s voice had ringed in his mind enough to start repeating itself and speaking to him; he thought he was hearing things. It wasn’t until he started hearing a strange springing sound approach him that he started getting delirious. He feared the pink mare had left a permanent impression on his psyche and it’d take a while to recover from her effect. As it turns out, Pinkie Pie had been following him just to discuss this exact subject, about his previous visit to the library.

“Yeah. I rented a few books,” he quickly replied.

“You also mentioned something about lunch,” she said.

“Uhh, yeah. Twilight had invited me to lunch with her.”

“Oh? And was that where you were going?”

“Uhh, no. I actually turned her down because I wanted to get home and read these books,” he turned to Pinkie Pie as he spoke, “You know, read all these books, in the privacy of my home, alone, as soon as possible.”

Pinkie Pie seemed to have missed the tone in his words as she replied sadly, “Aww, I bet Twilight was sad that you couldn’t join her.”

At this point, Blues had given up. There was no losing her when she became attached to you. You either had to make up an excuse for leaving in a hurry or you had to wait until she lost interest in you. Blues was hoping if he stayed quiet enough, he’d get on with his life through the latter option.

“She was mildly upset,” he answered, “But it’s fine. I was gonna have myself some lunch at my house. Besides, I didn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure Twilight would’ve loved having you for lunch though,” Pinkie Pie said as positively as ever, “Maybe the next time we have lunch, we can invite you over. It’ll be loads of fun!”

Blues only rolled his eyes at this. He knew a lunch like that would only go downhill if not depressing should he relay his stories to the group. Although, Pinkie Pie would most likely bring the mood back with her vigor, and maybe try to cheer him up after each tale. Still, it wasn’t something he’d want to be a part of.

“Uhh, sure,” he said, “We’ll see about that…”

In the back of his head, however, Blues was actually hoping for it to happen. He’s never had any true friends before, as most ponies would leave him alone before they let that happen. His time spent with those mares earlier made him realize that real friendships happen naturally and by coincidence. He enjoyed speaking to the farmer, the vet, and the librarian very much, and he’d even stretch that feeling to the party mare right next to him.

It was strange how she always had such a positive outlook on life. She was almost the exact opposite of him in every way. Where his mere presence could bring the mood of a room down by twenty percent, she could brighten the place up like the surface of the sun. He almost envied her in that sense, how easy it was for her to make friends, how perpetually happy she was. Not to mention how committed she was to the parties she made. He almost found her silly antics humorous and heartwarming.

Almost.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Blues restrained a tired sigh at this, “I remembered why I was following you.”

Blues humored the thought. Since when did she need a reason to do anything? She seemed quite happy doing things on her own accord, to the dismay of others.

“I wanted to ask you were your house was,” she asked.

At this, Blues shot up and stopped walking in realization of the mare’s true motives.

“What? Wait, why?” he asked. He dreaded the sheer thought of such a party at his house, well, apartment. It wasn’t even that big of a living, and her party’s were unpredictable. Any catastrophe that would happen would surely cause some lasting damage at his expense.

Pinkie giggled, “I’m throwing the birthday party at your house, silly. But that’s fine. I remembered where it was.”

The weird feeling from before, when the mare quoted his exact birth date, welled up inside him again. She knew where he lived? Did she know where every pony lived? Then again, she said she knew every pony, and every pony’s birth date. But even so, one pony shouldn’t have all that information at memory’s resource. It was far too creepy.

“Oh…really?” he resumed walking as he tried on his best smile to avoid looking uncomfortable at this revelation. He failed.

“Yeah. It’s those apartments, isn’t it?” she pointed to a white building sporting a few balconies and ladders to the second floor. It looked to house about eight residents with an office jutting out from the side.

“Uhh…” Blues was considering lying to her, that those apartments weren’t where he lived. But he feared that her vast number of contacts would quickly debunk his lie, and he was afraid of the consequences of lying to this pony. The mare was a dreadful one to face if she was crossed, and her friends were well aware of that after a certain incident a few months ago.

“Yeah,” Pinkie Pie said, “like that one episode with my birthday.”

Uh…Erhem! Yeah…

Decidedly, Blues had to admit the location of his living.

“…yeah. That’s where I live,” he said defeatedly.

“Next to the mailpony, right?” she said, confirming her information.

“Yeah, her…”

“Great!” Pinkie Pie turned around in the other direction, “So, this time, for reals. I’ll see you later.”

“Huh? You’re leaving? Just like that?” Blues queried as the mare stopped and looked back to him.

“I have to get back to work. I only needed to ask you where you lived,” she explained, “…or do you want me to keep you company?”

“NO!” he quickly said, “I mean, no, that’s alright. I have some business to attend to anyway…like lunch.”

Pinkie Pie could hear the faint rumbling of Blues stomach and giggled, “Alright. Well, you know where to get more of those doughnuts.”

“Yeah…thanks again, by the way,” Blues said, turning around to enter the grounds of the apartments.

“Oh, and one more thing,” the mare quickly said as the stallion looked back, “Don’t tell Mr. and Mrs. Cake about those doughnuts. They’d make me take them out of my salary.”

The mare had a pleading face as she asked this of him, giving Blues a surprised look. He’d never take Pinkie Pie for a pony who needed a favor done for her. But when she needed one, she didn’t seem as imposing as she normally was. In fact, she looked like a normal pony asking for an innocent favor, knowing the fear of being denied it. Keeping this favor was something he could easily do, without even trying. But she was leaving the risk of her job working at the Sugar Cube Corner, at the very least her income, to him. It really was no big deal, but in this moment, with her pleading face to an almost stranger, she really was just an ordinary pony in the village of Ponyville.

Blues smiled as he traced a hoof over his mouth, “My lips are sealed.”

The mare smiled happily at the promise as she clapped her hooves, “Thanks!”

Watching the pink mare walk away, Blues sighed. Finally, some peace and quiet to himself, a tasty lunch to enjoy, and books to read at his leisure. This afternoon was looking to be his most relaxing one yet.

He knew this solace wouldn’t last long, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.