Pinkie Pie's Quest to Become Meme

by Scootareader

2. Con Mare

Pinkie Pie sat in her hotel room, a cigar in her mouth and a box full of money sitting in front of her. Today was the day it all began.

A knock on her door notified her that the opening ceremonies would be starting shortly. She rose up from a leather chair in her presidential suite at the hotel, paid for with the money of pre-registered attendees, snuffed her cigar in a nearby ashtray, and got in her gold-plated elevator (also paid for with pre-registration money) to address the recent arrivals to the convention.

She arrived at the ground floor and strode across the carpeted foyer to the nearby large auditorium that would be hosting the main events—or lack thereof, she snickered—and entered a door near the rear which allowed her onto the stage. She approached the podium.

“Welcome to Las Pegasus DashCon, fillies and gentlecolts! I’m Pinks McGee, your official go-to convention leader! I’m sure you’ll have a blast at our convention this weekend. There’s so much planned for you guys, you won’t even be able to sleep. I’ll get out of your way, though, and let the show go on!”

Pinkie Pie marched off the stage, went back to her hotel room, grabbed her box full of money, packed some meager belongings, went to a hotel shuttle, arrived at the airport, got on a plane, and was across the Equestrian border within the hour. She wouldn’t want to be around for the quickly approaching shitstorm.

---

Meanwhile, back at the convention, a confused staff member was being pushed onto the stage. It appeared Pinkie Pie was supposed to have a longer speech, but she was just being Pinkie Pie. The stallion approached the microphone, cleared his throat, and said, “Hey, I’m Honey Nut, the Chief of Security. I, uh... am here to remind all of you that this convention’s primary purpose is to have fun. We’re all volunteers here, but we’ll do our best to be professional. If anypony tries to hold you up for a reason you don’t think is correct, talk to me about it and I’ll get it sorted out.” He looked back at the staff huddled at the edge of the stage imploringly, then glanced back over the crowd. “I... uh, hope you all brought your convention guides, because there’s panels happening everywhere. If you don’t have one yet, you should be able to pick one up at the front desk. I...” he paused, breaking into a profuse sweat, “hope you all have fun!” With that, he departed the stage to scattered applause.

Several minutes later, the flood of ponies at the front desk was outraged over the fact that there was literally not one printed convention guide.

Ponies with smartphones went to the convention site, where an online convention guide had been available, in the hopes of being able to connect to a nearby printer and provide some convention guides. To their dismay, the entire guide (which had been intact at this time yesterday) was erased, replaced by plain text on the webpage saying “lol u mad.”

With no other choice, the convention staff turned to an autistic savant muttering to himself in the corner named Final Solution. Using Final Solution’s perfect memory, they were able to recreate an entire ad hoc convention guide for the weekend. They printed off several of these, but the first prints that went to the eager hands of the convention-goers were returned shortly afterward, as the panels written of in the guide weren’t happening, and those rooms were, in fact, locked. When the staff went to go ask Final Solution if he was certain this was correct, they found him convulsing in a hallway, his panicked screams insisting to his fretful mother that there was a panel for sexual themes and references in the show there and that he was missing it.

As the morning’s chaos sunk into the convention-goer’s mentality, there came the realization that no planned guests were present; neither members of the show staff or fandom talent had been present throughout this entire ordeal. When efforts were made to reach out to some of those who had been announced, they unanimously said that they had been cut out at the last minute due to “emergency budget concerns.”

---

Pinkie Pie lazily watched her phone buzz on the table next to her as she reclined in the afternoon sun in the Bahaymas. This would make the 73rd missed call, and the 17th from Honey Nut. She shook her head and sighed contentedly, then picked up her phone and threw it into the nearby ocean, the tide pushing it back up onto the beach briefly before sucking it back in, never to be seen by pony eyes again.

She then reached into her nearby saddlebag and pulled out a different phone, turning it on and choosing her Bank of Equestria app. She logged in and checked her account balance, which was slowly going up as the convention fundraiser to provide money for hotel grievances was being raised. She'd milk every cent out of this fandom, and she'd do it while relaxing on the beach.

Today was a good day for Pinkie.

Author's Note:

Following the Las Pegasus Unicon disaster, my good friend Rocktavia told me, "Well, they were CON men."

Comments

[ralek]

this is gold