Pinkie Anonymous

by Daemon McRae

Chapter 4: Meet and Potatoes

Chapter 4: Meet and Potatoes

Pinkemena was not a happy pony. She, in general, disliked ponies, griffins, dragons, and other sentient creatures in general. Really the only pony she liked was herself, or, ‘selves’. The other Pinkies, with their various-yet-similar personalities, similar roots, and weekly meetings (which she would rather swallow a butcher’s knife than admit she enjoyed), the members of Pinkie Anonymous were the highlight of her life.

At first, she’d been bitter. Watching dozens of versions of herself run around, being happy, while she got allotted the part of Pinkie Pie that only came out when she was genuinely upset, felt like a cruel joke. It had taken some time for her to realize that she herself could be happy, she just had to work harder at it than most. It helped that the other clones had gone from a source of irrational anger to an inspiration.

Unfortunately, it was rather difficult to be inspired when some grumpy old griffin is yelling at the top of his feathers at you. “Mina! What’s taking you so long with that manticore?!”

“Maybe YOU wanna carve these poison sacs out! Go ahead, take those broken old arthritic claws and dig around in this bag of venom, be my guest!” she bellowed back.

Her boss, Gary Wintalon (pronounced wine-tall-yon by the pretentious and idiotic, namely Gary), poked his ragged beak around the corner, just in time to see Mina take a small carving knife to a rather delicate portion of the dead beast’s anatomy. After a second of glaring, he commented. “You know the only reason I let you talk that way to me is because I know you’ll carve me too if I fire you.”

“Like a Turkey, old man,” she chided, with a hint of a smile.

A ghost of a grin crossed his features, and he dipped back out of sight. “Hurry the hell up anyway!” he yelled around the corner, with a helping of enthusiasm.

Mina shook her head incredulously, returning to her work with enthusiasm. Unfortunately, being the pony she was, she never actually got to eat any of the food she prepared at the Boiled Bird; the griffin- and dragon-centric steakhouse and pub she’d landed herself a job in, with not a small amount of intimidation. They fed her, of course, mostly with vegetables they used as garnish and seasoning, and she had no problems helping herself to the potatoes once in a while. No, her enjoyment was in doing something that she knew made other ponies upset.

Equestria had long learned to accept that the dietary needs of the other species was drastically different. They couldn’t reasonably expect visitors to forgo their entire diet if they wanted to encourage trade and diplomacy. Thus, the major cities had established small, out-of-polite-view eateries like this one, to cater to those who couldn’t subsist on sunflowers and daisies and hay fries. Although she’d seen a griffin or two trying a hayburger with mixed results, once.

Despite this, there wasn’t a lot of patience with these places in polite company, and the thought of a pony even setting hoof in one of these establishments was abhorrent. Thus, Mina derived great pleasure from other ponies finding out that not only was she a regular, she worked here. Pinkemena was not a member of high society, for obvious reasons. Except in Griffin circles. The embassy was rather fond of her, for a variety of reasons. Apparently playful antagonism was the closest thing some griffins had to friendship.

“Ey, Mina!” called a familiar voice. Speaking of friendship.

Mina looked out the window leading from the kitchen to the dining room, seeing a familiar beak poking itself over a divider. “Hey Gertrude! Tell your dad to slow down on the chimera! He’s gonna have a heart attack, and we’ll be out half our business!” There was a squawk of a laugh, and a talon in a thumb-up over the divide, and Mina went back to work.

She’d just finished severing the tail and one limb when the bell rang at the front door. At first, she didn’t notice it at all. Then it rang again. And again. Then it rang constantly, as someone was obviously trying to get a host’s attention. Mina poked her head out to yell at the staff again, when she saw a familiar mane of bright, colored hair.

“You better be right about this, Gilda. I’m getting sick just looking at the menu. I mean, you guys eat… pigs?! Seriously?!” barked a tomboyish voice over the din of customers.

‘Gilda’ responded with a bit of annoyance in her voice. “I’m not telling YOU to eat it, loser! Although I think you’d really like bacon.” A statement quickly followed by exaggerated retching. “I dragged you here cause you froo-froo ponies just eat boring flowers and apples and stuff. ‘Cept that apple cider stuff. You at least got that right.”

Mina had long since retreated to the kitchen, for fear of being spotted. She hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the newcomers to be sure of who it was, and she’d learned a while back that there was more than one rainbow-colored mane in the world, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Especially after the real Pinkie Pie did in fact, stand up. The duo was met a few seconds later by a hostess, and quickly took a seat. Not as far away from the kitchen as she’d have liked, but it was good enough. She went back to work on her manticore, and soon enough, her ten-top showed up, ready to eat.

The rest of the afternoon was almost a breeze. Cut of meat here, sizzle there, snarky comeback with threats sprinkled on top. Soon enough the manticore was almost completely gone, the ten-top had been dealt with, and she was on her way home.

Confident that the rainbow-colored threat to her sanity had since vacated with her griffin entourage, she trotted herself out the front door, debating whether or not to stop by the ‘office’ on the way home. Of course, that was far too easy. The bell hadn’t even finished ringing when a familiarly boyish voice cried out, “Pinkie?!”

“SUNUVABITCH!”

Author's Note:

This story is a commission. I have a Patreon!

Comments

[BleedingRaindrops]

She, in general, disliked ponies, griffins, dragons, and other sentient creatures in general.

She does however, like her job at the department of redundancy department, however.

Especially after the real Pinkie Pie did in fact, stand up.

Lol. Nice joke.

Well, not that I'm disappointed there's more of this, but shouldn't this scene have been expanded into a larger chapter?

[Phoenix Flight]

Confident that the rainbow-colored threat to her sanity had since vacated with her griffin entourage, she trotted herself out the front door, debating whether or not to stop by the ‘office’ on the way home. Of course, that was far too easy. The bell hadn’t even finished ringing when a familiarly boyish voice cried out, “Pinkie?!”

“SUNUVABITCH!”

Had me-self a nice chuckle there

[Nyperold]

Yeah, I'm thinking that They, at least, should be told. Twilight, especially, so she knows to hold her fire, but her knowing will obviously give way to the others knowing as stuff like this happens, and they'd need to know why she's not zapping the clone.

[Seether00]

She's got a cleaver. Do the logical thing.

[Emil]

It does seem like she's making friends, just not within the kind of groups that most ponies would find their friends in. I could see a griffon-pony friendship being a series of continual back and forth insults, but the instant an actual threat appears, there's no one else the pony would rather have at her back.

[Tethered-Angel]

SUNUVABITCH Must be the Pinkie Anonymous motto.

[Sylica telca]

I think I like mina more