Pinkie Pie's Quest to Become Meme

by Scootareader

3. Fuhrer of Fun

“Mein little ponies, today is the day that we, the Ponies’ Republic of Equestria, will show the other nations the might of our Fatherland! We will prove to them that our greatness cannot be diminished, that even our mares and foals are to their greatest warriors as giants to ants, that we are free of the unclean which plagues their numbers and that our example is the perfect precedent to produce prodigious ponies of palatable posterity!” Pinkie Pie took a deep breath, then laughed into her microphone. “Say that five times fast!”

The assembled crowd of ponies before Pinkie cheered loudly, their adulation all the proof she needed that her cause was righteous. Her Equestria was greater than all others because, unlike their weak-minded and foolish leaders, her vision of a pure pony populace was being realized before her very eyes. Equestria was strong, and with her to lead them into a greater world, they were unstoppable.

---

Knock. Knock. Knock.

An earth pony stallion rose from the table where he was having dinner with his wife and foals, seven of them, to find out who was waiting at the door. His chain was affixed in place to prevent any intruders, so he opened it a crack and asked, “Yes, what is it?”

A pair of hooves crashed into his front door, tearing the chain from where it had been attached to the door where it fell to hang limply off the bracket still attached to the frame, splintered wood still stuck to the screw that had been keeping it in place. The door flew open, pivoting 180 degrees and slamming against the wall with great force, rattling the window next to it and grabbing the attention of the other eight ponies gathered. The stallion had his side clipped, his balance lost, spiraling to the ground in shocked pain.

For several seconds after that, there was silence. Then the mare wife shot up and went to her husband, exclaiming, “Oh, New Boots, dear, are you okay!”

New Boots let out an affirmative grunt, then stood up, facing the wide-open doorway. The pony that had bucked the door open was now standing to the side, replaced by an authoritative-looking officer in a sharp uniform. “To whom do we owe the pleasure?”

“Captain Snowfall, if you please.”

“Captain Snowfall, then.” New Boots nodded. “I pay my taxes. I do work. I keep my family provided for. Anything in particular we’ve done wrong to promote house vandalism?”

“An anonymous tip,” Captain Snowfall replied matter-of-factly. He gestured to the guards assembled behind him, who bustled into the home. New Boots gathered his wife and foals to him, where they stood in the middle of their dining area while the guards systematically searched every last nook and cranny that something may be hiding. They checked the attic, inside the furniture (which they tore up with their spears), and even inside the family’s refrigerator.

The guard checking the fridge, upon finding nothing suspicious, proceeded to reach in and take an apple, taking a large bite out of it and eliciting a gasp from one of the smaller fillies. “That was my lunch tomorrow, you monster!”

The mother shoved her hoof over the mouth of her daughter, laughing uneasily. “Oh, haha, don’t pay Sweet Melody any mind, she’s just a little prankster, aren’t you, Melody?” She glared at her filly, then at the guard, whose eyes were bulging in anger, then back to her daughter. “Say you’re sorry, young lady. That wasn’t a funny joke!”

Sweet Melody stuttered, “S-sorry, I joke with my brothers and sisters like that all the time. I sometimes forget who I’m talkin’ to.” She still had a glint of defiance in her eyes, but she seemed to know the gravity of the situation well enough not to ask for trouble.

The guard simply guffawed. “Ma’am, you keep your little ones on a tighter leash, eh? Else you’ll all be answerin’ direct to Pinkie herself for hostility to your friendly local guard.”

“Yes, sir,” came the mother’s meek reply.

Captain Snowfall, for his part, had been slowly cantering into the house, his booted hooffalls making empty thudding sounds whenever they made contact with the wooden floor. He watched as the guards buzzed about the establishment, then, one by one, came back to him empty-hooved. Finally, the last guard came from the upstairs area and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing, Captain.”

Captain Snowfall sighed in exasperation. “We go over this, what, twice a week? And you blockheads still haven’t caught on yet?” He paced, his hooves causing more thudding sounds. “Think, think, think! Where have none of you searched?”

The guards only stared blankly at one another, then a voice from the assembled mass ventured, “On the roof?”

“Ich bin von Trotteln umgeben,” muttered Snowfall. He moved over to a shadowed corner of the dining room, tapping on the floorboards with his hoof. “You see this? Loose floorboards. Check underneath.”

The guards, shock and realization on all their faces, immediately began rushing to the corner. New Boots’ eyes darted left and right as he stuttered, “M-maybe it’s not such a good idea... to look there.”

The guards paid him no mind, pulling up the floorboards and disappearing underneath the house. After a few moments, a guard yelled, “Found one, Captain! Oh, three-no, four more! We’re bringin’ ‘em up!”

“Das gut, bring them up. Tell the rest to keep searching.”

The guard emerged with five jugs of a pink liquid, setting them down on the floor of the dining room. Captain Snowfall, upon seeing them, said smugly, “Ah, just what I was looking for.”

New Boots stared in horror at the jugs of pink liquid arrayed before Captain Snowfall. “Now, that—that’s not what it looks like! That there is punch!”

Captain Snowfall barked a laugh. “The most pathetic excuse ever made. You call yourself a proud Equestrian? Your kind make me sick.” He turned from New Boots back to the guard that had found the jugs. “Corporal Botch, you may dispatch the first one yourself.”

“With pleasure, Captain!” Corporal Botch replied. He hefted his spear, pointed it downward, then pierced one of the jugs directly through, its liquid spilling outward in all directions, staining the wood a dark red color. He withdrew his spear, then stabbed the jug again at a slightly steeper angle, causing more precious liquid to seep out onto the floorboards. A third stab, then a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh... and he had punctured the bottom of the jug, its final remnants of liquid dripping onto the floorboards and trickling into the basement below.

New Boots watched the scene unfold in utter terror, his wife covering the eyes of their two youngest and the rest of his family likewise mortified at the execution taking place before them. A swiftly barked order from Captain Snowfall had the rest of the guards return to the dining room, two more jugs in tow and assurances given that there were no more jugs present in the house.

“Now, mein little ponies,” Captain Snowfall addressed the family, “you must all watch these proceedings. That even means your little ones, gnä’ Frau. I won’t ask again.” New Boots’ wife apprehensively removed her hooves from the eyes of her foals so they could all watch the scene unfold. The guards arrayed themselves around the full jugs, their spears pointed downward, Captain Snowfall shouting clearly the countdown. “Drei!” Those whose spears weren’t already raised immediately raised them. “Swei!” Perfect stillness, weapons poised, guards ready to administer justice. “Ein!” Every muscle in their outstretched hooves tensed, prepared to perform their duty as Fuhrer Pinkie’s elect. “Schießen!”

With the final order, the spears plunged downward, tearing into the hapless jugs of pink liquid, their contents spilling everywhere, splashing onto the stone faces of the guards, their frenzied stabbing a testament of their devotion to Pinkie’s cause.

In that moment, New Boots knew that there was no such thing as Equestria. Not the Equestria he remembered as a foal. He watched the carnage unfolding before him, and a silent tear tracked its way down his cheek to join his already sobbing foals. None should have to bear witness to a massacre, much less his own flesh and blood.

He hated Fuhrer Pinkie.

---

Fuhrer Pinkie bounced down the yard of a military camp that she had been giving a speech at, looking appraisingly at the obedient soldiers she’d created. A firing squad to her left unleashed a rattling of musket rounds into a grouping of jugs that contained orange-colored liquid, their precious cargo splattering against the wooden wall where the musket balls struck. A pair of guards to her right were throwing more with a clear gold liquid into a furnace. Still another group dead ahead was posing for a picture, emptied jugs littering the ground in front of them.

Her vision was being realized. Equestria would become a strong nation, and she would be leading it. To say she was happy... well, that would be an understatement.

Author's Note:

To those who don't get the joke, Pinkie Pie dreams of an Equestria without juice.

Comments

[floppy_seal99]

> Vat is zat hissing?
>*Looks in oven*
>Vhy is de joos in ze oven?
>Get ze jooc out of ze oven!

[emeraldhuskydragon0]

Oh it’s juice... wait... hitler...? hitler HE NEEDS TO DIE QUITE A FEW MORE TIMES