Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

by Fuzzyfurvert

Have You Ever Meowed at a Cat?

Sunset turned the keys to the off position, killing the engine in her little blue utility vehicle. She was parked in her garage, her trip to the donation center complete and all the boxes of extra bras finally ejected from her home. She’d even swung by the store to pick up a few things before coming home. All in all, it had been a productive day and tomorrow promised to be likewise as full, now that she had an interview to prepare for as well.

Sunset sat in the driver’s seat, listening to the car’s engine tick, and took a deep breath. “Please don’t be there…please little pink pony. Ghost. Demon...thing? I really need to just have a good evening, get to bed early and then make it to that interview. It’s not that much to ask, is it?” Sunset frowned for a second, but then smirked, scoffing at the thoughts running through her head. “Heck, if you’re good, I’ll let you do...whatever it is you want this weekend! I’ll walk around topless! I don’t care, I just really need this job! The last of the bits I brought over from Equestria are running out fast…”

Sighing, Sunset let her head rest forward on the steering wheel for a long moment before opening her door and climbing out. The garage was hot and stuffy as usual, but nothing seemed out of place. It was quiet. She held her breath, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop, and looked around. Nothing pink or equine jumped her or exploded out of her washing machine. No giggling ghostie or phantom horse appeared to whinney in her ear. Sunset slowly let out the breath and relaxed, closing her door and walking around the back to open the rear hatch. She grabbed a couple of overloaded canvas totes, struggling to hold them, her keys, and close the hatch back again. Finally, with her bags in hand, Sunset tottered into her small apartment proper.

Her living space, too, checked out clean. The interior was just as she’d left it a few hours ago. Lacking any apparitions to deal with, Sunset set herself to putting up the food and cleaning supplies she’d bought, humming a little tune as she moved around her kitchen nook. Fresh greens, tortilla chips, and dish soap put away, Sunset grinned to herself. “This is more like it. Nothing weird going on. Just me doing human stuff. No magical oopsies to deal with or rogue Equestrian villains on the loose, which is how I like it!”

She chuckled, tossing her now empty totes onto the wall hook by the door and spun happily in place. “That interview is as good as nailed!” Sunset ended her spin with a hop and skipped off deeper into her home, passing the folding partition that separated her living room from where her bed and dressers made up her “bedroom”. She kicked off her shoes as she went, shuffling along until her socks were removed and joined with the ever-present semi-pile of clothing on her floor. It was starting to creep up past her ankles, which meant laundry day was right around the corner. Ignoring it for now, Sunset yanked open her top dresser drawer and pulled out her magical journal.

While it wasn’t important by any stretch, compared to some of the weird stuff she had to deal with from time to time, Sunset wanted to let Princess Twilight know she’d landed an interview. She was one more step closer to living what passed as a normal life in this human world! She turned and let herself drop back onto the bed with a flop that sent her pillows flying. Snagging a pen from her nightstand, Sunset flipped to the first blank page and happily scrawled ‘Dear Princess Twilight.’

Sunset wavered for a moment, her mind turning while she held the ball point to the paper. Should I mention the pink pony that keeps popping up? She chewed at her lip, weighing it for the hundredth time. It wasn’t really an issue, not like the sirens had been, or how things had gone down at the Friendship Games, or that kerfuffle out in the woods, or the time at the movie studio. No one was in danger. The world wasn’t teetering on collapse. This was small change. It was localized to just her and her apartment. It might not even be real...by some definition of ‘real’ anyway.

For the hundredth time, she decided to not mention the pink pony that seemed to be haunting her. She could always send Twilight a message later about it. Right now, she just wanted to go over how she was going to get ready for her interview at the mall with the manager of the Sushi Shack. Which meant she needed to give Twilight a primer of just what ‘sushi’ was. Giggling to herself and kicking her feet, Sunset whipped the pen into motion, spelling out just how game changing this development was!

A little more than an hour later, Sunset was sitting on her couch, a bowl of salad on her lap and a fork in her hand as she watched an old movie on her TV. She was mostly done with the salad already, absently licking her lips to clear them of tangy dressing, and she wasn’t even to the second act of the film. She wasn’t too bothered by this, she knew the old black and white movie well enough to quote from it, but it never failed to keep her attention. After the film was over, she intended to take a long shower and get herself completely relaxed before going over her rehearsed steps to a successful interview. Look the interviewer in the eyes. Smile. Speak clearly and confidently. Be attentive. Don’t come across as desperate. Be warm and cuddly. Breathe softly and press your nose into their palm.

Sunset popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, smirking as she chewed and watched the actors on screen break into another song and dance number. She sat back comfortably and scratched idly at the warm, silky softness nestled up against her side. The song ramped up, the people around the lead actor, all just regular people that were looking on in curiosity, suddenly fell into step and started to dance along. It reminded her of home. Sunset started to hum along with the music, pulling the furry loaf closer as the dancers spun and twirled.

Wait.

Sunset blinked. “Nose in their palm? That’s not how humans do job interviews at all!” She lowered her eyes, looking down at the spot on the couch next to her that was suspiciously warm and comfortable with growing levels of dread. Her hand was practically absorbed into a pile of pink curls. Her fingers dangling out over a furry face and lightly touching the soft snout of a tiny pony. Her tormentor sat next to her, legs curled comfortably under its body and apparently asleep. Pressed up beside her, the tiny—possible psychotic break—was the size of a lap dog and twice as cute.

Sunset sat very still, her breathing shallow and weak. She didn’t know what to do. Should she move? Would it wake up? If it did, what would happen? If it didn’t, was it just going to keep sleeping on her couch like some displaced pet that her lease certainly did not cover? Slowly as she dared, Sunset started to lift her hand back out of that pink mass of mane. She didn’t want to disturb the little menace. The antics it got up to were not what she needed right now. Inch by inch her hand came away, slipping through that bubblegum shaded hair, until just her fingertips remained. Then the little pony yawned.

Sunset yanked her hand away and then froze again to let the horse settle back down. She stared down at the small equine, air caught in her throat and her hand awkwardly above its head. The pony nickered softly, blowing through its lips, and snorted before adjusting its legs slightly, but otherwise didn’t move. Sunset let go of the breath she was holding and leaned away, careful to not further bother the little creature. First one leg, then the other, walking her feet heel-to-toe, until just her hip still rested against the pony. She bit her lip , steeling her nerves and gripping the armrest of her couch.

If I pull at the same time, I can get off without shaking the couch and pivot toward the bathroom...or into the kitchen? Sunset frowned, eyeing both potential locations. On one hand, she could barricade herself in the bathroom, prioritizing defense. One the other hand, the kitchen contained her frying pans, suitable iron weapons versus otherworldly threats. I don’t really want to fight it...it’s not even doing anything. If I lock myself in the bathroom, I can use my towels to sleep on. But...I might miss my interview. What do I do?

The pony’s breathing seized up, its little body going rigid for a moment before it let out a tiny snort.

Sunset half pulled, half jumped, scrambling off her couch with all the grace of a backed up food disposal. She spilled herself onto the floor next to her sofa, spilling her salad bowl on the carpet in the process. The fork went flying off into some corner to clatter off the wall. Sunset grunted when she hit her tailbone painfully, whipping her head back around to keep an eye on her personal terrorizer. It was still there. Still loafing on her couch. Still, thankfully, asleep.

Or pretending to be, just to keep Sunset guessing.

Air hissed out between the gaps in Sunset’s teeth. She was the one that needed sleep. What she didn’t need was some poltergeist equine mocking her while looking comfy on the couch. “I’m too old for this crap.” Growling, Sunset picked herself up and brushed off the salad dressing splattered over her leg. “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m getting some sleep, you hear me?!”

She was shouting by the time she reached the end of her statement. The pony snored some more on her sofa.

Incensed, grinding her teeth, hands clawing at the nothing, Sunset glared at the little apparition hard enough to make her eyes hurt. It continued to ignore her and her anger. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, Sunset turned on her heel and walked herself shakily into her bathroom, the door slamming closed behind her.

Then the lock clicked.

---

Sometime later, the lock clicked again and a much calmer, slightly damp, Sunset emerged from her bathroom. Warm, humid air misted out into the rest of her apartment, clinging to her limp hair and trailing off the sleeves of her PJs. Sunset stopped just inside her sleeping area, hand still on the knob as she looked around for evidence of her pink poltergeist. The living room was empty, the TV off, her mess from the spilled salad gone, and the dishwasher just starting to cycle on.

“At least it cleans up afterward…” Sunset mumbled, scanning her tiny home, “that’s better than most roommates.”

She was just starting to smile when movement drew her eyes over to the corner between her and her bed where her dresser stood. The top drawer, her underwear drawer specifically, jittered and rattled softly for a second before a tiny horse head popped out of it. Sunset blinked.

The little ghostie blinked back at her, adjusting the sports bra around its neck that it was wearing as a cloak.

“Of course.”

Sunset sighed, all the fight drained out of her at this point. She set her jaw and snapped her fingers, pointing at her sports bra, brows knit. “Put. It. Back.” All she got in response was a whiney, a snort, and a toss of bouncy mane. “I know you can understand me. I said put that back. I kind of need it.” Sunset gestured vaguely at her chest.

The pink thing blinked at her, tilting its head and flicking an ear.

“Don’t try to be cute.”

It neighed at her.

Grinding her teeth, Sunset sighed again, more forcefully this time. She opened her mouth to rebut, but she knew in her heart of hearts nothing she could say would change things. Either the pony thing understood her and didn’t care, or it legitimately didn’t understand the words coming out of her mouth. “Wait.” Sunset held her mouth open and tilted her head, summoning up memories of another life lived in another world. It felt supremely weird, divorcing meaning from words until they were just sounds and then trying to retranslate them back into what still sounded like words—in her mind—but must sound like horse noises in this world.

What if...what if I just did...would a..? Sunset’s brows knit harder as she mentally undid and rewired her speech centers. She was a horse, Celestia damn it! She should be able to talk Equish if she really tried! “Nei..neigggh? Pplbbt.” She snorted, swishing her hips to flick a nonexistent tail in clear-as-crystal body language. She held up one hand, mimicking ear movements in as close an approximation she was able. “Grreeeph-neg’h fumph!”

The little pony in her panties froze, it’s already freakishly large eyes getting wider. It stared back at her in rapt fascination, mouth slack in surprise.

Sunset stamped one foot on the floor three times, toes curing and gripping at the carpet. She blew air out, puffing out her cheeks and letting her lips flap loosely. “Gremna’hmaaneh.” She gagged and hocked spit to form a question. Then, to show she was asking nicely, Sunset pulled her lips back and open as much she could and clicked her teeth together. For a moment, it seemed she’d succeeded in communicating with the horse-like thing in her dresser drawer. It was smiling at her. It looked happy, maybe a little amused by her accent, its little hooves going up to undo her bra from its neck.

Then the next thing she knew, the pony ghost was starring at her in abject disgust. Its pupils shrank down to dots. Its ears fell back in horror. It was frowning so hard, the edge of it’s mouth somehow escaped the confines of its muzzle to hang down like jowls. Her bra came off the pony’s throat, tossed unceremoniously back in with the others. Then the pony climbed out of the drawer, slamming it shut before bounding to the bed, then the floor. The whole time it never made a sound, it just looked grossed out and insulted down to its soul.

Sunset watched the little beastie walk indignantly across her apartment to the front door. Watched it stand on its hindhooves and open the door. Watched it take out a spare key from its mane, lock the door on it’s way out. Watched it produce a wide brimmed hat and a proportionally small briefcase from its tail. She watched it until the door slammed behind it and she was left alone in her bedroom and pajamas covered in happy little ducks.

“Was it something I said?”

Comments

[WanderingPony]

Sunset is not a cunning linguist.

[Crescent Glaive]

Oof.... you might've said something, Sunny....

[Sollace]

I guess Sunny needs to brush up on her Equish. Though, granted, lack of a tail and horse ears may very well lead to some... translation issues.

[Orbiting Kettle]

"Dear Sunset,
How could you say that to Pinkie? I thought you changed, I thought you were good now..."

[Vaguely Demented]

So did what she say take time to sink in? Cause it sounds like she said something wrong accidentally but Pinkie had a really slow reaction to it for some reason.

[bahatumay]

with all the grace of a backed up food disposal

Truly you are a master of your craft.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Genuinely great work with representing how intent and patterns could turn horse sounds into a language.

9300124
"Also, why didn't you say Pinkie was sneaking through the mirror? I am very displeased with the both of you. I expect an explanation for this outrageous behavior."

[Neece]

Oh thank God this is incomplete I couldn't live without knowing how this will solve itself.

Also Sunset should take the cuddly route and use the pone as a teddy bear and sleep embracing it. In her boobs

[Dustchu]

Can we get someone to translate Sunny's words? Please? Thanks

Good chapter, lol

[The Shadow]

Yay!!!

*Sets off a random party cannon he “borrowed” from Pinkie*

It has returned!!!!

Also, Sunset!!!! How DARE you say something like that!!!! I oughta wash your mouth out with soap, young lady!!!!!

[HB_DS2013]

Oh, it's back.

[CapNTilfy]

Yes. Yes I have I meowed at a cat. I swore to never speak of what followed. *shudder*

[WorldWalker128]

Actually, yes. I have meowed at several cats. Most of the time they stare at me in either shock that a human can Mrrow or mild amusement. If they're amused, then we meow back and forth for anywhere from 10 seconds to a full minute before they get bored.