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The First Part1,585 words
The Second Part1,883 words
The Third Part1,955 words
The Fourth Part2,101 words
The Fifth Part2,843 words
The Sixth Part4,963 words

The Sixth Part

“Don’t be back-smack-piddly-whack-backtalkin’ to me, co-pilot!” Pinkie calls out as she slides herself to the right, moving straight towards an array of huge maple trees. You feel her tail-tentacle somehow breaking off into a batch of quivering tentacles, clutching your body even closer to her back as leaves smack against your face. “Are you interpolating my gimbel angels into space vector quadratics yet?” She flicks her left hoof in some way that makes you grip it with your fingers, nudging your skin onto her pink fluff without even thinking.

“Sure,” you murmur as Pinkie beats her wings and shoots up at a ninety degree angle. Oh, God! The force plays a number on your stomach, causing you to hold Pinkie’s hoof even tighter. She giggles in anticipation as her eyes focus again on the flying pot that reappears in the distance in front of you.

I’m— wow— I’m taking flying rather well. No need for barf bags or anything, so I guess I just trust Pinkie to keep me safe. The wind seems to flow right past your head as Pinkie’s mane flutters. The pot looks aimed somewhere in the direction of Canterlot while still leading you both over the Everfree forest on the way, Pinkie picking up speed.

“We’re getting closer!” Pinkie bursts out. She seems to kick up a little more speed as you grip her right hoof with your right hand, both arms now rubbing up along her shoulders. It feels oddly intimate, but your body feels so pink and so transformed already— something you’ve already gotten used to, giving you a little underlying sense of worry— that it just comes naturally. “Just a few more meters, Snoopy-oopy!”

The pot won’t give up without a fight, shooting off to the left and leaving a sparkly trail through the air. Sweet goodness, does that metal have a magical mind of its own by now? Pinkie careens after it as you both fly underneath the treetops, zig-zagging between trunk after trunk as branches smack your sides. You shut your eyes tightly and just listen to the angry moans and sudden yelps of various Everfree monsters in surprise as the scene unfolds above them.

“You’re a slippery little potty-wotty-naughty, aren’t you?” Pinkie screams out. You nudge your eyes open and watch helplessly as you fling out across the surface of a gigantic lake. Alligator-like mutant creatures with nasty, beady red eyes swing around you, chomping mere inches from Pinkie’s hooves. The water splashes up again and again as she zooms about. She finally hits the end of the lake and tosses herself to the left onto a rocky outcropping— the pot still pretty out of reach.

How the hell is that thing still flying anyways? Is there some kind of atomic reaction from the popcorn or something— good Lord, we’ve invented nuclear food, haven’t we? I wonder if we could get the pony version of the Nobel Prize for that. Pinkie smashes right out of a clump of trees in a sudden loop-de-loop, some kind of gigantic creature with the smell of limburger cheese and a voice like the Hulk growling in front of you. Or maybe the Darwin Prize, dammit!

Your eyes open for a quick moment to see a horrible scaly figure swing a massive batch of claws towards you, with jagged rocks coating the ground beneath you, and you squeal. Pinkie tosses you both straight down, the claws swinging into thin air, and she bounces straight up again before a sudden pink flash overwhelms your senses. Your face scrunches up.

“Da hell was that,” you remark after loud clang of metal against rock snaps you back to full attention in a split-second. You shake your head as you feel Pinkie before over to the left, popping out of a gaggle of huge bushes in a massive field.

“Just a bit closer,” Pinkie comments, her lips pursed in anticipation as she swings her hooves forwards. Her wings beat strongly.

“Is this the Everfree? It doesn’t feel like it?” you cry out. Is that pot thing taking us to Canterlot? Why the hell would it do that? Is it even alive or anything to begin with— even able to think, really? Pinkie contorts herself into a long shape, hooves pointing together as she looks like an Olympic swimmer, and you feel her tentacles going up around your neck to hold you even tighter. The flying pot looks way off ahead, the field going off almost forever.

“What is it with you and asking all these questions?” retorts Pinkie with a bouncy laugh. “Is this the Everfree? Is this the real life?”

“Is this just fantasy!” you scream back, your head resisting right upon her neck as her wings beat even harder than before.

“Caught in a landslide!” Pinkie half-sings and half-screams. The world seems to blur into a solid glob of various pink shades as Pinkie hurls herself through the air. Your senses don’t seem to, well, make sense of anything anymore.

“No escape from reality!” you reply as Pinkie makes a huge arc across a small, grassy hill over to the left. I feel almost as Pinkie as Pinkie herself, somehow. The magical pink coatings all over and inside your body feel like a natural part of you more and more each second— rather than something alien like before.

“Open your eyes!” Pinkie slides up through a sudden burst of wind and you find yourself going almost ninety degrees upwards, clouds bursting around you. You feel the sheer force of your movement wiggling your lips across your face.

“Look up to the skies!” As you penetrate a thick tuft of clouds, you come across some kind of aerial pocket with clear air all around you. You take a moment to glance down, seeing various hills and valleys fading into fancy pockets of big buildings besides a massive castle. A soft clang snaps your attention upwards, and you spy the magical pot only a few feet above you both. Freaky pink goop still bubbles up around its top and bottom, ripples of something like electricity coursing along the metal sides.

“And see!” you both sing out. You lean upwards, slowly standing atop Pinkie’s back with her tentacles holding you safely in position. Wind blasting your face and hair, you summon your strength and stick out both hands while assuming a kind of power-stance.

“Come on, dammit,” you mutter, “I ain’t gonna, ah, hurt you mister pot.” Pinkie’s wings seem to beat at full speed, making it shift even closer. Your fingers pop against the metal sides ever so slightly as you hear a deep gurgling sound inside of the pot. “Just come back to mister and misses cook here.” You bite your lip, which weirdly tastes even more like bubble-gum compared to the rest of your pink body, and you wrap your fingers against the top of the pot.

“Yowza! We’re almost to the stratosphere, Snoopy,” Pinkie announces, still flying upwards, as you grip the pot against your chest with both hands. Somehow, the blasts of pink energy shooting out of the bottom seem to fade, and it looks more like any other pot— albeit one with the metal twisted and banged open like Swiss cheese from magical recipe making. “Got it, Snoopy?”

“Ah, yeah,” you murmur, cradling the pot best you can with both arms almost like you would your neighbor’s puppy back on Earth. The rumbling noises inside of it seem to calm down into nothingness, the top rattling no more. “I’m good.” Oh, gosh, this might mean the end of the weirdness.

“Good!” Pinkie screams out, tossing herself over to the right and sliding over in an arc back into the clouds. You wave some of the watery goop out of your eyes and see the Canterlot castle growing bigger and bigger up ahead. Without even thinking, you shift your hands upwards and pop open the top of the pot, peeking inside ever so slightly to see if everything had totally died down.

What feels like a whole ocean of pink bubbles suddenly flies out of the pot as the top wiggles completely open. Dammit! You hardly have a second to react as the bubbles fly into your face and all across your shoulders. You gasp for breath, throwing yourself backwards onto Pinkie’s flanks with your legs still grip on her back. And you watch as the almost never-ending torrent goes on. Pinkie makes a confused, whining-like noise as you both bounce out of the clouds into a thick layer of wind beneath.

“What in the hay is going on back there?” she asks, and you can’t even begin to think of an answer. Finally, the flow of bubbles ends just as abruptly as they had begun, and you cough as your mind swirls. You brush your hands across your cheeks, tingly sensations going through you once again just like when the pot had exploded the first time.

Oh, dear sweet God, I breathe pink. I think pink. My blood is pink. I feel pink. My heart is pink. Why the hell did I just do that! “Ah, something odd happened,” you mutter. You blink uncontrollably before leaning over onto Pinkie’s shoulders, sucking in deep breaths the next moment. She curls backwards and gives you a kind, tender expression. Not that there’s anything wrong with being pink, of course.

“At least we have the,” Pinkie begins. She stops as you both hear a low, mechanical sort of groaning. “The pot?” In just a matter of seconds, the thick but beat-up metal thing seems to contract in on itself like some kind of neutron star. Your hands shove it down onto Pinkie’s back, your body shivering with surprise, and you watch as the metal contorts into a clump like used aluminum foil before shrinking even more.

“Pinkie,” you start, “I think…” You stop since you can hardly think at all. In a split-second, the metal piece collapses in on itself until it becomes something like a spearmint gum wrapper, a tiny gray glob. You pick it up and, for lack of a better option, slide it into your front right pocket. Well, that was— honestly— not what I was expecting. At. All. “I think… we’re… ah…”

“We’re done! We caught it!” Pinkie suddenly screams out, leaping out into a huge spiral and tossing herself around you. You freeze, body totally exposed to the thin air with just her tentacles keeping you connected as she does her victory lap. “Got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— got it— go—”

“Pinkie!” you yell, feeling one part dizzy and five parts terrified of falling right onto the castle far below. Little help here! She suddenly flings herself into the nearby clouds and slaps you forwards with her back hooves. You let out an ‘eep’ before she ripples you up her sides, her wings flying her in cartwheels of sheer happiness. Yet she suddenly stops and clutches you with her chest.

“I’m so happy, Snoopy,” she says, her eyebrows fluttering as she puts on a pleased, pretty facial expression. Your dizziness fades immediately into something else. You blush, not even sure what to begin to say back. You just fold your arms around hers as she holds you in place in front of her, picturesque little clouds fluttering around you both. She looks so overjoyed that she could just explode.

Instead, she pulls you in and— to your surprise— gives you a passionate kiss. Your eyes naturally close as you unthinkingly give into the sudden wave of emotion. She mutters something quiet and soft, her hooves pressing against your sides as her lips dance on yours. You can hardly think of anything better; Pinkie’s kiss seems like countless firecrackers of pleasure going off in your mouth. Finally, after a matter of seconds that felt like years, she pulls herself off of you and swings you over back onto her back.

“I’m… so happy too…” you mutter, still reeling. You glance down at your pink fingers, pink hands, pink clothes, pink legs, and every other part of you. The crazy magical concoction that you had gotten doused by on land feels pretty normal by now. You lock eyes with her as she flies on with her head turned back to gaze at you. “And, ah, Pinkie… uh…” You scramble for the right thing to say, this sort of stuff being far from your strong suit. But I wish that you hadn’t of had to turn me into ten percent pony or so and taken me a thousand feet or more into the atmosphere for us to get this far together, darn it! “Thanks.”

“Thank you, Snoopy,” she replies with a giggle before turning back around, aiming for the green, almost glowing hill far beneath you both. “Now, let’s head on down into Canterlot proper and see if we can get somepony to get you back to normal.” She tilts her head a bit and shifts her mane about, suppressing a huge set of laughs. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind you staying pink for quite a while, myself.”

A quick inner war goes off inside of your head given that you’d much rather be yourself on the outside rather than having skin that tastes like bubble-gum. But you hardly can push back at Pinkie— especially when whatever feelings you’ve forced deep down in yourself have boiled up with a vengeance. “We’ll, ah…” Ugh, think of something neutral to say. Honestly, feeling all tingly like a pink pony on the inside is kind of annoying— it’s almost like perpetual indigestion. Better to just be a ‘little’ pink. Just be evasive. “We’ll see how that goe—”

A shot abruptly ripples through you out of nowhere. You feel your backside start to twitch and wiggle almost like a dog that’s found a long-lost bone. Your body seems to fly up from some mysterious sensation coming off of Pinkie’s back and onto the top of your head. She lets out a gasp.

“Snoopy sense!” you cry out, although you don’t even know what that means. ‘Snoopy sense’?

“What in the hay is—” Pinkie begins, but she doesn’t finish. Her wings suddenly freeze and her tail sticks out with hairs on end as if it had gotten struck by lightning. “Pinkie sense!” She shoots you a confused look as you both involuntarily jitter in the air like wasps for a moment. “Hey! Your sense is faster?”

You can’t argue; you can only shrug. You look about in all directions, seeing nothing but clear skies with occasional fluffy clouds around you and the fancy concrete structures of Canterlot far below you. How the hell can I have a Pinkie-like ‘special sense’ if I’m human— unless something about being so exposed for so long changed me? Oh, gosh, this can get bad! Bad, bad, bad, bad!

Pinkie clutches you close once again, putting sort of a guard up as she faces to fly straight down. “Something’s about, but that’s fine.” She presses you against her chest with her tentacle-spread tail. “Let’s just go over and—”

“Going to kissy-goo-goo him again, you pink slut?” screams out a furious voice from far above you both. Your eyes fly skywards. “You already had to almost ruin him by turning him into a mirror image of you! But, oooh, I always knew that taking him in as an assistant baker was just a pretext! You’re just hiding him— poor Snoopy— all for yourself!”

Lyra, eyes almost paralyzed with rage as her nose and mouth contorts, hurls herself towards you. Thick black, bat-like wings that she’s gotten from goodness knows where beat with full force. Her horn glows brightly as you can see her hooves shift up and point in your direction.

“You’ll pay for your lies, Pinkie!” hollers Lyra. You don’t think you’ve seen this kind of rage from any pony in your entire life before.

Pinkie sails over to the right, getting completely out of the way, but Lyra’s wings seem so much more agile. The unicorn makes a brilliant set of aerial acrobatics as she cuts through clouds and heads directly for you. Pinkie lets out a loud whine as she turns to face Lyra.

You open your mouth to scream out something, but a thick bolt of some kind of magical lightening ripples out from Lyra’s hooves. It surges right through the air and cuts right across Pinkie’s tentacle-covered tail, causing her to yelp in both surprise and pain. Your eyes reflexively shut tight.

You feel overcome with the sensation of swirling wind. You blink, arms rubbing against your chest, and you suddenly come back to reality. You’re falling— totally separated from both mares as they duke it out above you— as Canterlot castle grows bigger and bigger in your vision.

“Eeeeeep,” you mutter, sounding more like a scared mouse than a human guy. You wave both arms and both legs helplessly. At least you have a nice view, your eyes taking in the huge array of fancy marble waterways leading into hanging gardens loaded with a kaleidoscope of pretty flowers and neatly-trimmed bushes. Grottos, pools, ponds, and other ornate bodies of water decorate all around castle superstructure.

An extremely tall flagpole pops up to your far right. You hear punching, kicking, and animal-like groaning above you, but you focus everything on grabbing the pole— littered with dozens of fluttering fabrics. Your fingers suddenly rip onto a thick red flag of some kind. In just a split-second, you swing your body to the side and grab onto it tightly.

“Whoa!” you hear directly above you, seeing a pink blog fly past you. You somehow manage to fling off like a pinball against the side of the machine— swinging off sideways instead of falling down. This all happens so fast, you can’t even begin to think, and you find yourself facing a solid wall of blueness.

You grimace, anticipating something painful. Instead, you feel something warm and leathery gripping your face, neck, and shoulders. Lyra makes some kind of battle cry of victory, her front hooves rubbing your hair as your hands and legs try to clutch her sweaty body. Better to be Lyra’s pet than a messy pink splotch on a royal wall!

“Don’t worry— I’m coming for you, Snoopy!” Pinkie shouts somewhere below you. You make a frustrated groan in reply, and Lyra tosses you about as she zig-zags through the air. You can make out Pinkie in hot pursuit just behind you. Yet you can hardly make sense of your location, the various white walls and white columns of the castle surroundings all blending into each other like some kind of obstacle course.

“Hey, please just—” you begin, panting hard as both mares make loop-de-loops around a gigantic royal grotto a few stories above ground, “Just let me—” Pinkie smacks into Lyra’s side, driving her into a batch of dark green shrubberies on an aerial garden. You grab off to the side, but your fingers just come across thin air.

Airborne once again, you see something that looks both huge and— thank goodness— soft directly below you. Lyra and Pinkie pummel each other around you. Leathery wings smack into insect wings. Pink hooves slash upon teal hooves. All the while, you brace your hands and feet in front of you like a cat as you fall onto a big brown tent. Lyra bucks into Pinkie’s side, and you see the pissed-off earth pony careening sideways towards you.

*Splash*

You wiggle from head to toe, blowing air out of your mouth and nose. The whole world seems to be underwater. What the hell is this! What the hell is going on! You kick your legs, feeling yourself wading deep in refreshing, cleansing water, and loud noises burst out above you. Your fingers grab onto something cold and hard to your right, and you thrust your body upwards.

All you can see is something huge and dark blue. You suck in a gigantic breath through your nose and squirt the water out of your mouth before leaning back. You feel so overwhelmed— you might as well collapse.

The huge, dark blue thing turns around. You blink, and you gaze upwards. The beautiful looking mare, halfway slid into the bubbling water, appears bigger than a human being— the first pony you’ve seen like that. Your eyes travel from her immense, fluffy wings along her smooth sides over to her shimmering blue mane and over to her smiling face. “Great-googly-moogly,” you mutter. “It’s Princess Luna.” You feel totally embarrassed at having spat a big glob of water onto her back. “I mean— you’re Princess Luna!”

“Fair thee well, then, as one needth commit to a pronounced entrance if one plans to maketh,” she says in a Victorian-era cadence before stopping mid-sentence. Fortunately, she looks more amused than anything. You glance all around, and you realize that you both are slumped in the middle of a rather deep hot tub— the warm water clearly filled with various enchantments— inside of a cozy tent. You make out clear white tiles lying about around the tub itself as well as a human-sized hole punched into the tent ceiling above you, looking like something out of Looney Tunes.

“Princess,” you mutter, rubbing your face with both hands. It takes a second to hit you, but— when it does— you make a half jump to the side in surprise. Oh, wow! I’m back to normal! Your skin has the same peachy tone and your clothes the same plain colors as back before the unfortunately cooking-ware events. Has to be all of this royal water stuff…

“You may call me ‘Luna’,” she says, smiling as she shifts over to normal speech. “And, as I was saying, that was one interesting entrance.” She causes you to blush profusely, and she suppresses a laugh, her glorious wane wiggling about. “I was actually feeling a bit lonely in this tub since my guest is running late and the guards aren’t here to accompany me as usual. So, I can forgive the clearly accidental trespassing.” She slinks a bit out of the tub and rests against the counter away from you. “You may even stay for a bit. But it should go without saying, of course, that this is not an invitation to any funny stuff.” She lets out a small sigh as she nudges her head upon her hooves.

“Okay,” you say. This is real-life, not a porno. At any rate, I’m just glad that you didn’t summon the guards to smash my head like a watermelon with his hooves. You turn your eyes skywards, and you spy pink and teal colors flashing in combat through the human-sized tent hole. “Hey, ah, I need your help with something, your majesty.” She doesn’t stir in the slightest— looking totally relaxed with body half in the water and the rest of her leaning on her own hooves. “There’s this mare named Pinki—”

*Sploosh!*

Water flies up all around you. Blinking rapidly, you pick yourself totally out of the tub. You finally make out both Lyra and Pinkie Pie, sitting in the middle of the water with confused looks on their faces. In just a split-second, their wings start to dissolve. Both mares ignore each other as they spin around like ferrets, trying to make sense of it. Princess Luna, for her part, stays mostly in place but makes a deeply amused smile, her eyes peeking over at the scene on the other side of the tub.

“No more wings!” Pinkie bursts out. Lyra just lets out a defeated groan, sinking down into the water. Pinkie’s eyes turn to you, already in the middle of folding your arms together. “But— but— the spell! It’s foolproof, right?”

“One weakness,” you repeat, calling back to Twilight’s words. Pinkie simply blinks— an empty expression on her face. Lyra has sunk almost entirely into the water with just her angry eyes, nose, and horn sticking out. She looks primed to strangle Pinkie when the right moment comes.

“Salts!” Luna suddenly interjects. You and the mares stare over at her still smug expression. “If you’re using Gromm’s Fifth Revision with the third level combat magical enhancements, then too much salt will always muck up your spell. That’s why the royal guards’ earth pony division doesn’t get soup in their mess halls. Bath salts, well, that goes without saying.”

She’s a freaking princess. Obviously, she knows what she’s talking about. You begin, “Princess, I—”

“That— that— pink hussy!” Lyra hollers all of a sudden, still staying mostly underneath the water but pointing her exposed horn over at Pinkie. “She’s stealing my man! It’s wrong, Princess!”

“Hey!” Pinkie retorts, looking totally flush.

“She needs to be punished,” Lyra continues on. She lets out a torrent of bubbles and slowly moves under the surface, her horn reminding you of the exposed fin from Jaws as she makes her way to Pinkie.

“Well?” Luna calmly asks.

You’re more than had enough. “Well, if you’d excuse me, Princess,” you say, sliding upwards out of the tub, “my Pinkie and I will need to be going.” You put your hand on her shoulder as a smile breaks out from cheek from cheek.

Lyra freezes in the middle of the tub. She lets out a pained, sad groan and pops a bit out of the water, scrunching her face tightly. You hold Pinkie close as you don’t even look back at Lyra, although you desperately glance around for a towel with both of you hopelessly soaked. Maybe there’s something right outside? Somepony that’s the ‘towel mare’?

Your eyes move over to the half open flap entrance to the tent. Oh, well, let’s just get the hay out of here. Yet, looking back, you see Luna raising a hoof and waving. You wave back, but you immediately stop as you see Luna picking herself up and looking out around you both— still waving. Ahh…

“Hey, so we’ve got more visitors here after all,” says a young, light voice from outside the tent— a handsome man’s face sticking out of the tent flap. You and Pinkie halt in your tracks as a short human with a shocking blond tuft of hair, a skinny frame, and thick yellow swimming trunks on slides in through the entrance. “Great.” He sort of reminds you of those obnoxious ‘twinks’ that your gay friends were always bitching on about back on Earth— although he seems nice-ish, especially with his pretty smile.

You idly stick out a hand. “I’m Snoopy.”

“Woodstock,” he replies. He slides his head a bit to the side, and he tries his best not to burst out in giggles.

Before you can let out another word, you hear a whacking sound as air shoots up around you. You glance down and see Lyra, popped out of the water with her eyes as big as dinner plates, clutching onto Woodstock’s left leg and left side. She pants loudly, her wet mane sloshing against her body.

“Uh, hi,” she gurgles, looking straight up at his face as she blushes. Woodstock just takes in a breath and puts on a flat, emotionless expression. You don’t wait; you wave goodbye to everyone and pop right out of the tent.

“Goodbye,” you hear Luna remark.

“Ah, goodbye to you too,” you hear Woodstock mutter. You see, off on the corner of your eyes, him sliding his body to the side of the hot tub tiles with Lyra still stuck onto him like a barnacle on a ship.

“Snoopy,” Pinkie says, brushing up against your right leg as you stop and look out at the massive set of doors, windows, and everything else atop Canterlot castle. “I’m very happy that you think of me as ‘my Pinkie’.” She rubs a hoof against your foot and makes a pleasant sigh.

“Sure,” you reply. And, thank freaking goodness, I’m not like a clone of her anymore. You wiggle all of your toes and fingers about. Pink, pink, pink— I guess that all washed away with the magical waters. No after effects of being all bathed by her stuff, inside or out. You try to force the ‘but isn’t magic not supposed to work on humans in the first place’ question out of your mind. And now, being 100% human and 0% Pinkie once again, I can just get ready to head back to Ponyville and get on to my lif—

“Sense!” you and Pinkie scream out, both of your bodies tingling and legs twitching. Pinkie leaps up into the air and hops into your arms, making you let out an ‘urk’ as you stagger a bit carrying her. She gives you an excited look while you just sense the emotion draining from your face.

“Alright,” you whisper, barely hearing your own voice. “So, life in Ponyville will now become a lot more— well— interesting.”

The End

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