It's My Party
To say Octavia's ex-coltfriend was confused at the scene outside his apartment was an understatement. It looked like an enormous block party, and the number of people was only outnumbered by the sheer number of balloons that formed arches and decorations. In fact, it almost looked like a wedding.
“What's going on?” he shouted at the nearest mare.
She turned around and grinned widely. She wore a white, frilly short-sleeved collared shirt with a bright pink bow tie, and pink suspenders holding up a tiny set of jean shorts. She held out a hand. “Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie!”
He did not return it. “I don't care. What's going on here?”
Pinkie put her thumbs behind her suspenders. “This is Octavia's breakup party,” she said cheerfully.
“She's breaking up with me? Why?” He glared, scanning for Octavia, and his eyes fell on a cake with his picture on it, decorated with a large red X.
“Because you're a tool!” Pinkie proclaimed, throwing her arms wide. “You're overprotective, you're controlling, you're manipulative, you’re childish, you ignore her, you don’t care about her feelings, and you think letting her watch you jack off counts as foreplay!”
His jaw dropped, but then he recovered quickly. How had she known that?
Pinkie looked down at her wrist, which bore a watch crudely drawn in pen. “Ooh! It's almost time!” She darted to the front, adjusted her tie, held up a book, and whistled loudly. The crowd quieted and turned to face her. She pulled a microphone out from somewhere, tapped on it to test it, and when she was rewarded with the sound of the tap from the speakers, she cleared her throat and began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to free a very, very lovely mare from the bonds of a bad relationship. Octavia?”
Octavia stepped forward, and there were a few in the crowd who couldn't hold back a few claps and whistles. She wore a long red dress that hung off her shoulders and sparkled in the sunlight, and she held a bouquet of flowers that seemed just a little bit off.
“Octavia,” Pinkie began. “Do you solemnly swear to do what's best for yourself and treat yourself with all the respect a fine mare like yourself deserves?”
Octavia cracked a smile. “I do.”
“Then by the power vested in me by this license I found in a box of cracker jacks, I pronounce you… free!” She accentuated this declaration by throwing her arms wide and bouncing.
On cue, Octavia pulled a little string on the base of her bouquet and threw it into the air, and it exploded in a bright burst of purple fireworks. The crowd murmured in approval, and many slow-clapped.
“And now, the ceremonial liberation!” Pinkie presented her with a large picture of her coltfriend and a comically large match-shaped lighter. Octavia chuckled as she took it and lit it on fire, and the crowd cheered once more.
Her now ex-coltfriend snorted as he slunk away. Burning his picture? That's ok. He had some pictures of his own.
* * *
“Pinkie really knows how to throw a party, huh?” Bon Bon asked.
Lyra was carrying no less than three brownies in her magic. “Oh, 'eah,” she said, revealing a fourth in her mouth. “I cou' get use' 'o this.”
Pinkie grinned. “Thanks!”
Lyra frowned as she swallowed. “Weren't you just over by the music?” Indeed, Pinkie had been looking over Vinyl's shoulder at the turntables not two seconds earlier.
“I have no idea!” Pinkie said brightly.
Octavia sidled up to Pinkie. “What about the… uh… pictures?” she asked apprehensively. She couldn’t help but notice that her ex-coltfriend was conspicuously absent.
“Just leave that to Auntie Pinkie,” Pinkie said with a wide smile as she patted Octavia on the head. “She'll take care of it.”
“Auntie?” Octavia repeated dubiously.
“Well, I'm not your uncle!” Pinkie retorted, thrusting out and pointing demonstratively at her breasts.
Octavia opened her mouth, then shut it again. That seemed to be a common reaction around this mare. She stood by her first impression: Pinkie Pie was a few violins short of an orchestra.
“Welp, I've got cake to serve! Catch you later!” And she skipped off to the table, pulled a large spatula from apparently behind her back, and began divvying up the cake.
One side of Octavia's mouth curled up into a pained smile. Perhaps she would have to start looking into a career change sooner than previously expected.
* * *
The camera tech stepped out from the back and made eye contact with the person standing there. “You the guy with the disposable?”
Octavia's now ex-coltfriend nodded and walked back towards the photo counter. “You got my pictures for me?”
The camera tech shook his head. “Sorry, not going to happen. We’ll refund you-”
“You said you could do explicit pictures,” he said accusingly.
“Oh, it's not that. Your film is ruined.”
“What? What do you mean, ruined?” he demanded.
The tech held up the roll. “It's all overexposed. And it’s caked with something that smells like frosting.”
“Frosting?!”
The worker shrugged and set the camera back down. “I don't know what all you're into, and I really don't care. All I know is, you're not getting any pictures from this film roll.”
He let out a screech of rage. “Do you know who I am?”
The worker's attitude shifted as his eyes narrowed. He did not get paid enough to put up with attitude like this. “No, and I don't care about that, either. Now if you're not going to buy anything, please move along.”
He leaned forward. “Maybe I'll come smash your machine, what happens then?” he threatened.
His threat was interrupted by a whimper. He turned around to see a little pegasus colt, wearing a tank top that had been pulled up slightly to better show off what must have been a new cutie mark of a feather, and holding tightly to a camera with the strap around his neck. Clearly, he was hoping to get some pictures developed as well, and losing the machine would definitely put a damper on his day.
“Shove off,” he snarled, pushing him back.
He turned back around to continue threatening the tech, but a snort that was loud enough to be at home in a bullpen ruffled his hair. He turned around and came face to face—or more accurately, face to pectorals—with what was undoubtedly the largest (and angriest) pegasus he had ever seen, possibly the older brother of the little one. He was too shocked to even resist as the pegasus grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and his belt, physically lifted him over his head, carried him across the floor and placed him head-first into a nearby trash can.
Even with his hearing muffled, he could hear the celebratory “Yeah!” and high five from the two pegasi outside.
He sighed as he felt something wet seep into his hair. This day just kept getting better and better.
* * *
Vinyl looked around the edge of the alleyway. “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” she asked.
Octavia shrugged. “Pinkie said we should come here at this time, and that it would be important for closure and ending.” She paused. “And then she shoved an entire slice of cake into her mouth and told me a joke about zebras and newspapers, so I'm not entirely sure how serious she was.”
Vinyl leaned against the dirty brick wall and shoved her hands into her pockets. “She seemed nice,” she said with a shrug.
“She seemed crazy,” Octavia snorted. “I sincerely doubt she will be able to do anything about those pictures, and, lovely dress aside, it was quite foolish of me to so blindly trust her.”
Vinyl hemmed a bit. “I dunno, I think-”
“I have already begun mentally preparing myself for less than desirable occupations. Currently, I am debating the merits and shortfalls of opening a little stand and selling authentic fish and chips. Or perhaps becoming a stripper.”
Vinyl bit her lower lip.
Octavia's eyes narrowed, but she couldn't prevent one half of her mouth curling up ever so slightly. “You're imagining me as a stripper, aren't you?”
Vinyl was; but she was spared having to come up with a convincing lie when a very familiar stallion stormed out of the photo shop and threw a camera to the ground. He then stomped on it no less than five times and then kicked it against the wall.
Vinyl blinked. “I'd hate to see him actually upset,” she said.
Hearing a voice, he looked up and his eyes narrowed even further when he saw Octavia. He marched over and stuck his finger up in her face. “I know you're behind this. I don't know what you did, or how you did it; but know this, Octavia: I will skunk you if you so much as look at another stallion.”
Octavia smiled. “That won't be a problem.” She took Vinyl by the hand. “You see, you've cured me of any love for stallions.”
He could only stare. He wanted to be angry, really he did; but seeing two girls holding hands messed with his brain.
And then his brain fried completely when Octavia leaned over and gave Vinyl a passionate kiss on the lips.
When Octavia pulled back, she smirked as she noticed his stunned state. She delivered a firm palm heel strike to his forehead, and he keeled over backwards and fell to the asphalt.
“Come on, Vinyl,” she said with a wide smile, taking her by the hand again. “Let's go home.”
And Vinyl was only too happy to oblige.
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ALRIGHT!!!!! :)
Loving it so far :)
God, I can just hear her saying this in that sweet, cheerful voice of hers.
6625931
Me too its great!
its blueblood
Pinkie attack incoming
You messed with Bulk's little Bro, of course you are going to get you flank kicked.