Second Person
She bounces into sight, and it’s as if lights switch on somewhere. It makes no sense—she is just an ordinary earth pony, with a crazy poofed-out pink mane and a disconcerting way of staring directly into your eyes. This, you notice, because she is suddenly staring at you.
“Oooh—new pony!” she cries, and your jaw drops.
An orange earth pony with apples on her flank reproves her. “Pinkie! Y’all bein’ rude an’ starin’ and such.”
You cough, uncomfortably. “No, it’s all right—I mean, she’s right. I am new around here.”
The orange pony blinks. “No kiddin’? Well, now, never mind Pinkie’s lack o’ manners, where are mine? I’m Applejack, and this here is Pinkie Pie. What’s your name? You been in town long?”
You tell her, and you explain, “I’m travelling. I’m staying the night, and in the morning I’m continuing on to Fillydelphia.”
“That sounds fine!” says Applejack. “Who ya stayin’ with, sugarcube?”
“I hope hotels here aren’t too expensive?”
Applejack and Pinkie Pie glance at each other, startled, and when Applejack looks back at you, her expression is dismayed. “Honey, did you see a hotel around here? I ain’t sure who you been talkin’ to, but we got ourselves a problem.”
The funny thing is, her dismay isn’t shared by her companion. Pinkie Pie’s smile grows and grows, and her eyes seem to quiver with delight. They’re fixed on you. Only you.
You look down. It’s a little overwhelming. “Maybe I’d better hit the road, then. I don’t know anypony here.”
The next thing you know, you feel a nuzzling at the top of your mane, and you look up, quickly. As your head comes up, you blink, because Pinkie’s muzzle is right there, and meets yours in a kiss. Her eyes are quivering even more up close like this.
“You do now!” she chirps, and bounces in place, pleased with herself.
Why does Applejack look worried?
Maybe that’s none of your business.
“Well, I know your names,” you say, “but I don’t want to be a burden…”
“There, y’see, Pinkie, our new friend don’t want to be a burden, so we ought to respect that an’ be on our…”
Applejack’s cut off by the interposing of a pink pony body, shoving her out of the way and taking her place before you. Pinkie bounces, a huge grin on her face. “You won’t be! You won’t be!”
“I ain’t sure about this, Pinkie…” says Applejack. She really does look worried. It’s ridiculous of her to be this worried. And it’s none of her business, anyway, is it?
Pinkie silences her. “Applejack! We are going to offer our wonderful new friend some Ponyville hospitality, so don’t even argue with me!”
Applejack gulps. “Jes’ hospitality? You mean, like, hospitality hospitality?”
Pinkie gives her an unexpectedly sharp eye. “Yes! Hospitality hospitality. Not to be confused with mud-pie hospitality or unabridged dictionary hospitality. Okay?”
Applejack’s undaunted. “I’m jes’ thinkin’ that…”
“Too much thinking, not enough partying! I know just what we’re going to do now.”
“That’s what Ah was afraid of…”
Pinkie whirls to face you again. “We’re going to Sugarcube Corner? Have you ever been to Sugarcube Corner? If you never went to Sugarcube Corner it’s the very first and last place you have to go, besides which it is the best place ever, such a best place that I even live there, I mean how much more best could it even be?”
Applejack seems to be sulking. “Y’all gonna deprive our new friend of a proper dinner. Why don’t you come with me, darlin’, and we’ll find you some nice alfalfa and some apples, maybe? I got a barn over to Sweet Apple Acres. It maybe ain’t the most cozy thing but I reckon it’ll keep ya more,” and here she glances at Pinkie, “healthy.”
“Your barn?” squeaks Pinkie, in outrage. “Your cold, drafty, barn?”
“My barn ain’t drafty!”
“Please don’t argue about me!” you protest.
At this, Pinkie lifts her chin with a hmph. “There is no argument, because there is only one thing to do! And it begins with a P and ends with a Y! And it’s not ‘Pony’ though it includes pony, and it’s not ‘persnickety’ because I don’t think our new friend is going to be that though you need to be careful, Applejack, or you’ll be persnickety and how would you like it if you were persnickety, huh? Not only would that be terrible, but it has ‘snicket’ in it and how could you go through the day knowing you were something that went snicket snicket snicket all the time? You’d trot down the street, and all the time you’d be going snicket, snicket, snicket, snicket…”
Pinkie’s advancing on Applejack all this time, and it’s amazing to watch—the country pony tries to stand her ground, but the torrent of words literally drive her back. Works every time… in the end, she turns and runs off, down the street. You watch her go. In the distance, you hear her crying “Twiliiight! She’s doin’ it again!” and then a wall of pink blocks your view.
Pinkie’s kissing you again. You blink, and she breaks away, bounces in place, and says, “That got rid of her! Now come on, we have to race to Sugarcube Corner! I’ll explain on the way!”
The next thing you know, you’re cantering along, nearly at a gallop, following her. You’re following her awful closely, too. She can feel your breath on her bouncing rump. It’s a very nice rump, rounded into eager curves, the cottoncandy tail flying in the breeze. You catch yourself staring, and you put on a little extra speed and pull alongside her, and you’re blushing. “Explain?” you say.
Pinkie Pie glances at you, and the amusement and playfulness in that one glance—it takes your breath away. But you’ll be needing that breath for a little while longer! You have to get to Sugarcube Corner!
“I have a few special needs,” she giggles, “and I can’t take care of them every day! I’m so happy you came here!”
She springs forward, devouring the ground beneath her flying hooves with incongruous grace, and you’re left chasing her tail again—and staring. It’s got you wondering what sort of special needs she means. You’re in a special position to find out. Specifically, you’re trying to catch up to her, and Pinkie Pie’s playfully blocking you, her tail flying high. It’s like she wants you behind her, confronted with her bouncing rump. It’s an awfully nice rump. You just thought that again, didn’t you?
As you approach a building that looks like it’s roofed with gingerbread complete with frosting, Pinkie springs into the air and flips, and suddenly you’re looking at her beaming face, all her legs spread to enfold you, and she cries out two words you’ve never heard combined before.
“HUG BRAKES!”
The next thing you know, you’re embracing in the air, and before you can say “wait a minute, we were running to…” you’ve crashed to the ground and you’re bouncing and tumbling, wrapped in a tight hug, until you come to a stop, her underneath you. You’re disheveled and dusty and grinning like a maniac, inches from her face. That smile of hers makes your heart pound. Your whole body is pressed against hers, from chest to… yeah.
“Is this… the place?” you pant. You can’t stop grinning. You’ve been hijacked by joy.
“Oh, that’s SO the place,” smirks Pinkie. You’re blushing even worse. It’s adorable.
You glance around, alarmed, because you hear running hoofbeats. It’s Applejack, again, and she’s got a purple unicorn with her.
“Oh, thank goodness!” says the unicorn, “we’re not too late!”
“To join us for danishes and candy?” says Pinkie Pie, under you. “It’s never too late for that!”
“Actually, I was thinking…”
“Thinking schminking!” replies Pinkie, and squirms, rubbing against you in a startlingly personal way. You gasp, and jump to your feet, and before you can blink the pink pony is up as well, between you and the new arrival, and you’re staring at her ass again. She is in a good mood, isn’t she?
“Well, I’m thinking, too,” she says, “and I’m thinking you’re UP to something! Almost like you don’t want me to have fun with my new friend! Huh? Is that nice? Is it?”
The purple unicorn glances at Applejack, then back again. “It’s just that some KINDS of fun…”
Pinkie stomps her hoof. “Says you! Who’s the fun expert around here? Huh?”
The purple unicorn looks like she’s about to claim to be the fun expert, despite this being entirely ridiculous, but before she can say anything, Pinkie’s turned to you. Behind her, you see Applejack scoping her hindquarters, and gulping anxiously.
“We shall have danishes!” announces Pinkie. “Danishes and candy! Nopony’s gonna stop us from having our danishes and candy. It’s like having dessert first, because that’s exactly what it is, because some things are really, really sweet. So sweet that you can’t put them off for another moment. So sweet that you really, really, really want them. Know what I mean?”
You gaze into Pinkie’s eyes, and you have a feeling you know exactly what she means. Applejack looks stricken, shaking her head in dismay. The purple unicorn doesn’t look happy, either. They’re clearly not the fun experts.
“Now, come along,” says Pinkie, and you accompany her into the building. You’re starting to grin again. You’ve never been so shanghaied in all your life, and you’re getting caught up in it. And my oh my, are you getting a fondness for that quivering rump, the delightful eager shape of her. You’re the answer to an unasked question. The answer is yes. The path to that answer seems to involve danishes, and candy.
Behind you, Applejack and the purple unicorn rush off once more.
Behind the counter at Sugarcube Corner, a matronly pony presides. “Hello, Pinkie. New friend?”
“Bigtime!” replies Pinkie Pie, rubbing against you and beaming another spectacular smile out at all and sundry.
“That’s nice!” replies the shopkeeper pony. She’s not too bright, is she? Pinkie is being mind-numbingly obvious. You figure it must be normal for her.
“So, I want two danishes and some candy and another danish and I’ll decorate it myself, okay?” says Pinkie. “I can ring it up, too. My treat!”
She does so, as the matronly pony retreats to a back room. Pinkie seems to be permitted to run the store, and she gets out the danishes herself, an assortment of candy, and gets pink icing and sprinkles from a top shelf. She puts the danishes on a plate, and squeezes the icing tube to make a little heart on one of them, a heart with a spot and a line, decorated with sprinkles.
She then pounces and eats the other two danishes, seemingly in one bite. Her tongue seems too big and too… dexterous, to be real.
You blink in shock. “I thought we were going to share those!”
Pinkie beams at you. “This is yours!”
“Oh, okay…”
Her eyes twinkle. “It’s like having a dessert before a dessert, so it counts as having dessert first, first! For when you can’t wait for dessert first! Or I guess if you don’t want to have dessert first… last?”
You stare at the danish. “I’ve never seen a heart with a spot and a line before.”
Pinkie’s amusement doubles, triples. She bounces in place, her curls flying, and giggles.
“That’s not a heart! Come on, eat it, eat it! Eat that first!”
You choke, taken aback. “F…first?” you say, and then you feel Pinkie’s face nuzzling yours.
“I save the BEST for last…” she croons.
“Even better than dessert?”
Pinkie nods, smugly, supremely confident. “Uh-huh.”
Impressed, you eat the danish. It’s delicious. It’d have to be.
You eye the candy, while Pinkie eyes you and licks her lips sensuously, but then you’re distracted by a crash and a blur of motion, cerulean-blue colored. A pegasus has flown in through a window and crashed into the counter.
You glance back at Pinkie and she looks outraged. The blue pegasus flaps her wings frantically, trying to get up. “Hey! Hey, you gotta listen…”
But you apparently don’t—because Pinkie’s hooked your foreleg in hers, and suddenly you’re in another room. You blink, taken aback, because you only remember a sensation of hallway and stairs and suddenly there you are in another place. How did she do that? More to the point, are you pleased with her doing it?
Pinkie is kicking a large chest of drawers in front of the door, and expostulating. “Some ponies! I tell you, ponies just do not have an appreciation of the good things in life. I’m not saying they don’t understand, because maybe they do, but I am saying you can’t let them get you down. Right? ‘Cause we haven’t had the best yet, and we’d better hurry while there’s time! There’s best for you, and then there’s best for me, which when you add them together means the best for everypony! And I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to let anything get in my way!”
You realize you’re staring at Pinkie’s butt again. Could it be the excitement and danger that’s making this special for her? You realize you’re grinning again. It had never occurred to you that being hijacked by a crazy pony would be so satisfying. It had never occurred to you how well you’d like Ponyville.
It occurs to you very much as Pinkie Pie trots over and begins licking your neck.
“Oh yes!” she croons.
Your smile threatens to take off the top of your head. It suits you.
You sink into Pinkie Pie’s wild, eager, so-alive eyes—and then you both blink, for you’re hearing hoofsteps running up the stairs, and Applejack’s voice. “This has gone far enough!”
“Oh, no, it hasn’t!” you pant. You’re going cross-eyed with desire, dizzy.
Pinkie glances at the door, hooks your foreleg in hers again, and—did you really just go out the window? And into another window, higher in the building? It’s dim here, and it’s quiet again. The only sound is the hot, heavy panting of you and Pinkie Pie, whose body is trembling with desire, whose mouth hangs open yearningly, who lays back onto the floor and reaches out and…
Yes. YES.
You take her, and the best was the last. Oh yes. Your mind melts into love candy, and you revel in it until you are exhausted.
You lie with Pinkie, trembling, dazed, all your energies spent, your head on her chest, your body a boneless sprawl. She doesn’t mind. She strokes your mane. She leans forward and licks you again, with a secret smile.
“Your ‘the best’,” she breathes, softly.
You nuzzle her body, her delicious body. “You think so?”
“That makes me feel good,” she sighs, blissed. “I’ll enjoy mine extra much now that you’ve had yours.”
It seems like an odd answer, but you’re very sleepy. You thought she’d enjoyed hers already—or yours, might be a better way to put it. Indeed, she had, so you’re not going to puzzle over a simple little remark. Not now. You’re so sleepy.
And you don’t suspect anything’s wrong for even the eensiest, briefest little moment.
Do you?
Pinkie sighs, and holds you close, petting you—your bodies sated, saturated with pleasure. It feels like the most delicious satisfaction and lassitude filling your every muscle. You might never move again and still be satisfied, as the loving darkness enfolds you and your amazing new lover. It feels like you’re merging, becoming one with each other, wrapped in a forever embrace.
And she feels, to you, like the most charming, delightful companion you could ever hope for. You’d like to be a part of her, and it seems like something in her lights up at the thought.
She smiles back at you, and your world is complete.
And, oddly enough…
You feel like a snack.
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wat.
I get it. That's actually very clever.
473525
Mind sharing with the rest of the class?
473565 Pinkie Pie is telling the story, I think. She keeps changing what "we" are thinking somehow, with her forth wall breaking powers. And I think "we" were turned into candy at the end. And this has happened before, apparently. Okay, now I'm confused again. Oh well.
473627
Huh.
You know, I kinda see it now.
There are a couple points where Pinkie's thoughts are in "your" head.
Trippy.
I have an idea of what happened, but I'm not sure what I should feel about it if it's correct.
Interesting... if what I think happened just happened. I suppose there are worse fates than being absorbed (absorbed? eaten? completely innocently romanced?) by Pinkie Pie.
i have one word
dafuq?
Alright, I'll admit it, I snorted at the last line. And wow, this is dark as hell, and it's got a lot of subtle things. Saving 'the best' for last...
Your the best
If you look real close at the cover image it gives it away, too...
474380
I respect that idea, but it's too lousy with format-conversion artifacts to be clear. ?
Given the premise, I expected this story to hammer the idea of "second person with a possibly unreliable character as narrator." There's a bit of confusion between what bits of narration are "your" thoughts vs. the "narrator" having a voice, was that your goal?
Anyway, now I'm wanting to play out a second-person narrator in a less subtle way.
Edit: Oh jesus.
Wow, okay, I had to even say it myself before I got it, but... Okay. It's legitimately creepy when it's a bait-and-switch that sits in disguise until you realize it for yourself...
474556
Oh, if I coulda been watchin' your face...
I think maybe I'm going to get a lot of enjoyment out of having written this one
I always love your stories AJ...Trixie's Magic Bit is my favourite FiM fanfic, actually! This...really creeped me out when I got to the end, especially the last line. As did scrolling back up and opening the image file that accompanied it in a seperate window. Foreshadowiiiiing!
Anyway, as you've prob'ly guessed, I really enjoyed the story and its effect. One line was a little jarring though: "There, y'see, Pinkie, he don't want to be a burden, so we ought to respect that an' be on our..."
It seems like you avoided (either deliberately or unconciously) using pronouns for 'us' in the story, apart from that instance. As a girl, it knocked me for a loop for a moment and made it a little trickier to immerse myself in the fic; once the character was 'he', how could he be 'me'? :P I'm not sure if that was an error or this story is really aimed at the be-weinered, but I wanted to point that out and ask.
475463
Ooo. Well spotted. And such a good point that I'm going to change it, because yes, I specifically meant to leave all cues about 'you' blank. Guess Applejack sees stallions where they don't exist? Heh.
Um... You're doing that clever thing where the reader can come up with some theories, but there's not quite enough to test them, because of the unreliability of it all. Which is frustrating.
The best I can come up with is that you-character is Pinkie's somehow realized auto-erotic fantasy. But... that's not particularly dark, is it? And why are the other ponies all freaked out? Still thinking. It hurts.
static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/the_2de74d_2130342_9790.jpg
"In many college English courses the words myth and symbol are given a tremendous charge of significance. You just ain't no good unless you can see a symbol hiding, like a scared gerbil, under every page. And in many creative writing courses the little beasts multiply, the place swarms with them. What does this Mean? What does that Symbolize? What is the Underlying Mythos? Kids come lurching out of such courses with a brain full of gerbils. And they sit down and write a lot of empty pomposity, under the impression that that's how Melville did it."
- Ursula K. Le Guin
I'm gonna call it. The emperor has no clothes. The hidden meaning in this story is a figment of the reader's imagination.
I don't know why I have to say this. Applejinx can write allegory - and has rightly criticized others for the exact same issue: forgetting to bring meaning.
Sooo, what is there as far as meaning? It's pretty clear that Pinkie's thoughts have leaked into the narrator. That's more of a third-person technique, but it puts you-character pretty effectively in her mind... which is where things get confusing, as they jolly well should, and its also the point where the story ends and the reader's own take begins.
And this reader has the unfortunate luck of being primed with Trixie's Magic Bit, so his theories range from "pony made of pastry," to "inexplicable Pinkie clone," to "Oh, dear Celestia, Pinkie finally tried hers - but the rating says 'T,' so that can't possibly be right." Maybe there is no answer. Maybe it's like worstwriter's obnoxious "the answer is there is no answer" punchline. It's a trap, like "this sentence is false," but for the intuition.
As I see her, Pinkie's mind is so full of possibilities, even she's not sure what's going on until it happens. I'm the proud inhabitant of such a mind, and to me, creation is a process of decision and discovery - pruning and imposing constraints only opens up more ideas. So a refusal to decide just strikes me as leaving the story unfinished. Of course there are millions of possible meanings - the art of storytelling is shopping for the one you want.
So, as an invitation to intellectual play, this is excellent. But as a story, it's quite literally undifferentiated - trying too hard to have things two ways.
481393
Oh no no. (No relation to Trixie's Magic Bit! No changelings!) It has things two specific ways at once, and the narrator is one specific Pinkie, with one specific fanon predilection- but it ain't the one the 'you' in the story thinks it is. The others know, but they're a little outclassed. 'You' in the story will never realize the truth.
Will you?
But it's... sweet of you to think so hard about it
481907
>No relation
Hedge of thought, meet gas-powered clippers. I'll let you know if anything interesting regrows.
Taking the rereads into account, this thing's at least a novel.
Holy hell, I just took a really good look at the cover image!
Reflected in her eyes!
Can't quite work out the exact details, but Sanity Slippage will ensue when I do, I have no doubt.
Okay, either:
1. This is going to be a pinkamena Diane Pie case shoetly after the fic ends.
2. By sleeping with Pinkie Pie, a Pinkamena Diane Pie case was just narrowly averted.
3. The protagonist is Pinkamena Diane Pie.
508514
And of course, that's the trick: no pastries, it's straight-up horror and all the other ponies know it and are powerless to save you.
anemakniP labinnac si retcarahc niam eht si rotarran ehT
(though still ponyish and nice in her way! Good, uhh, tenderizing ;) )
Tactical, with his remark of "Edit: Oh jesus", clearly saw right to the heart of it (and now I've outed the secret on a sitewide blog-post)
704511
I think my mind just broke.
So while the main characters are Pinkie Pie and the second person protagonist, neither of these are dictating the story and instead that's done by a third character who's not in it? And who is, in fact, evil!Pinkie Pie?
Now when you said "playing with the second person perspective" I wasn't expecting meta-deconstruction. Kudos to you, sir.
704724
There is only one Pinkie Pie.
A narrator could be seen as inner thoughts. If they're not your own... whose, then, are they? There's nothing specifically saying they can't be the inner thoughts of the pink pony right in front of you.
"Pinkie Pie glances at you, and the amusement and playfulness in that one glance- it takes your breath away. But you'll be needing that breath for a little while longer! You have to get to Sugarcube Corner!"
"Specifically, you're trying to catch up to her, and Pinkie Pie's playfully blocking you, her tail flying high. It's like she wants you behind her, confronted with her bouncing rump. It's an awfully nice rump. You just thought that again, didn't you?"
"But you apparently don't- because Pinkie's hooked your foreleg in hers, and suddenly you're in another room. You blink, taken aback, because you only remember a sensation of hallway and stairs and suddenly there you are in another place. How did she do that? More to the point, are you pleased with her doing it?"
Not like no character has ever talked about themselves in third person (the Great and Powerful Trixie is shocked at your failure of vision! She points out that she was referring to herself in third person, in canon, before it was cool!)
704744
So, the Pinkie Pie if front of "us" is the narrator, and because "we're" a featureless relatable character, some of her thoughts are leaking into us?
And then this goes Cupcakes for no reason?
But that doesn't break my mind at all! It's like Pinkie Pie's just romancing herself, followed by Cupcakes. With herself. Except one of me might be male.
...
Okay, I could've sworn I wrote "her" and not "me" just then. That is actually scary.
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
Nah, you're so second person that you're just the reader. The one telling you your every thought... like a story... is...
Wow, I didn't even get that bit, until reading it again now. I got what Pinkie had done...but not that she was using her 4th wall breaking skills to alter our thoughts. I found the line 'Maybe that's none of your business' especially chilling now.
1269200
It's meant to be
And thank you- that was perhaps the best line of the whole story, for those who figure out who's doing the telling
911 views.
CONSPIRACY.
I don't get it. Am I food? Am I dead? Can I be a zombie?
Your.
*You're
1860971
No no. That is grammatically correct, and completely intentional, though it is a sentence fragment that contains a term used as a quote.
If something is HIS 'the best', what is HER 'the best'?
1861457
Ohh. Now I feel dumb.
So you feel how you are!
1861512
Don't feel dumb- this story was the sneakiest thing I ever wrote
1861545
I've been meaning to read this story for weeks. I'm a huge fan of second person stories.
Your also a huge fan of sucking d--
NO! TOO FAR!
the plot blocking was pretty funny and "the heart with the line and the dot"
genius
...Oh, that's bloody clever!
Wait a second...
Did Pinkie just ABSORB ME?
My brain hurts and no one, myself included, has an exact idea of what is going on in this story, I'm out. Still, glad I read this though.
6337386 Read through the comments looking for my backwards sentence if you want the answer
And don't fret. It's probably the most intentionally tricky thing I ever wrote
6337782 I did, but the multiple interpretations make it more confusing, though yours, as the author, is the most sensible. It's also quite dark as well, and touches on the impliu of Author Authority.
Fear the herd of voices in my head the seem like one.
I wake up.
473523
My thoughts exactly!