Good Game
Pinkie Pie opened her eyes and saw darkness.
She sat up with a squeal. “I’m blind!” Being blind would be the worst thing. How could she see party decorations, or a delicious cake, or the smiles of her friends if she couldn’t see?! She looked around in a panic. “Mister Cake? Missus Cake? Twilight?!” But she couldn’t see or hear anyone, although there was an ominous echo.
Pinkie sighed and sat down, looking down at the pleasant pink shade she was. The pleasant pink shade she would never see again!
Except she could see it just fine now. She looked down at her hoof, twisting it around, confirming it was, in fact, her hoof and she could, in fact, still see it.
So she wasn’t blind, just in a mysterious black realm with nothing in it.
The realization didn’t comfort her much.
She stood up on the… nothingness? She patted her hooves around, making clopping noises. She leaned far down onto the ground, peering at it closely. There was clearly somewhere to stand, she just couldn’t see it, because it was a black nothingness, presumably everything she could see was.
As she was peering at the sheer black ground, she heard the sound of hoofsteps, and immediately popped up, turning to face the noise. Not too far away there was a pony, facing her, in a dark black cloak, although not the nothingness black. Just a normal black.
Less normal was the bone white muzzle sticking out the front of his hood.
Pinkie sighed a big sigh. “Oh thank goodness, another pony. I thought I was all alone here. Do you know where we are?”
The stallion silently nodded.
“Yess! And you know how to get out?”
The stallion stared at Pinkie. Well, Pinkie assumed he was staring. The hood covered up or left most of his face in shadow. But after a moment, he tilted his head and nodded a little.
“Great! I was getting pretty nervous here by myself! I’m Pinkie Pie, what’s your name?” She held out a hoof to shake.
The stallion looked at it, but said nothing, and reached his hoof out to Pinkie’s. It, too, was bone white, and as Pinkie grabbed it it was hard and cold and rail thin under his cloak’s sleeves. The stallion started walking holding Pinkie’s hand, ushering her forward to… well, more blackness.
Pinkie laughed nervously. “So, where are we going?”
The stallion looked back at Pinkie, and for the first time the hood came back, revealing the reason why his muzzle was bone white. Because it was made of bone. Two empty eyesockets stared back at Pinkie, and Pinkie’s memories came rushing back.
Pinkie climbed up high on the ladder, as Mister Cake, his shoulder bandaged up, watched on from underneath her, steadying the ladder as best he could with one good hoof. She stretched and shimmied out, trying to stretch the right half of the banner as far as she could with her muzzle. She stretched her body up, getting on her tippy-hooves, steadying herself on the shingles of the roof, but managed to plant it far enough to be correct.
An audible sigh came from beneath her, and she looked down at Mister Cake waving his good hoof around. “That’s great Pinkie, let’s climb down now!”
“Alright Mister Caaake!” she called, before seeing a tiny blur of blue in the corner of her eye. She looked over and almost right in her face was Rainbow Dash.
“Hi Pinkie!” she blurted out, with a big smile on her face, getting up way too close way too fast.
Pinkie squealed in surprise, her rear hoof kicking off of the ladder as she tumbled off of it. Rainbow Dash’s hooves came too slowly to grab her as she hit the shingles with a thud and quickly rolled right off the roof.
For just a moment she was suspended in midair, with Rainbow Dash, still shocked, starting to flap her wings to pursue, as Pinkie’s neck came down on the edge of the water trough.
Pinkie sucked in a big breath to scream, but instead a forced long squeak emanated from her. She looked around in a panic, and in the distance, growing brighter and closer, was a pure bright light.
Pinkie gasped. “Oh no. Nonononono, I can’t!”
The skeletal stallion stepped forward, his grip suddenly made of iron and his tug irresistible, as he led Pinkie toward the light.
Pinkie pulled and tried to yank her hoof away, scrabbling with her hooves finding no purchase on the floor. “No no no, not like this. Not with Dashie like this. She’ll be torn up forever if it happened like this. Wait wait waiiiit!”
But the skeletal stallion just pushed onward, unstoppable and inevitable.
“I… I challenge you to a game for my life!”
The stallion stopped, as if he was startled.
“That’s a thing, right? I beat you in a game and I don’t die.”
The stallion rotated his head very slowly back to Pinkie, staring at her with empty eyes, the blankness boring into Pinkie’s very soul, the stallion’s skeletal jaw falling open just a little. Did she break the rules? Was the stallion going to suck out her soul?
But instead he shook his head, slowly, as if admonishing Pinkie. He turned back around and started pulling
“C-Come on.” Pinkie tried to keep pulling her hoof. “There’s gotta be something I can do to stay alive, Grimmie. We could play anything. What do you like, bocce ball? Bowling? Ping pong?!”
The pony stopped, his shoulders tensing up. He twirled around and stared at Pinkie with those expressionless black holes he had in his face. After a moment, his hoof released Pinkie’s, and he slammed it down on the ground. The bright light receded, and from the ground next to them rose up a pingpong table.
Yes! It was her chance. Pinkie bounded to the far side of the board, picking up the paddle. “Let’s do this!” she shouted, the paddle clattering to the ground. The grim reaper’s empty eyes stared at Pinkie and she laughed nervously, picking the paddle back up, and saying a muffled “Yeah!” from behind it.
Picking up the ping pong ball, she tossed it into the air, rearing up and slamming her paddle on it. It struck the table on the other side, and the grim reaper leapt to the side, missing it with his own paddle, as it flew off into the distance.
Pinkie made a happy squeak from behind her paddle, pumping her hoof in joy. This was gonna be easy.
The grim reaper stared at Pinkie again, and he rolled his shoulders and raised his hoof, the ping pong ball appearing in it. He tossed it up and smacked the ping pong ball over to Pinkie’s side.
Pinkie sprung to the side, flicking it back effortlessly with a flourish.
The knock back came hard, the ball flying to the opposite end of the table, and Pinkie dove fruitlessly as it flew off into the darkness.
Pinkie picked herself off of the ground, and looked back at the grim reaper. She twisted her head back and forth, cracking sounds being heard.
“Alright, Grimmy,” Pinkie said, picking the paddle back in her mouth. “Eff oo iis.”
The ping pong ball was on the end of the table with no indication anyone had placed it there. That seemed normal for here, so she served up and the competition began. The grim reaper lacked the energy Pinkie had, but he made up for it in strategy. Pinkie had to be on her toes for all the trickiest serves, and all the sprinting across the table, but she had this. Every time the ball bounced off into the distance the points climbed and climbed. But at the end, she could not prevail, and the grim reaper won the first game.
“No!” Pinkie dropped the paddle in her cry.
The grim reaper nodded as he looked at Pinkie, and Pinkie could just imagine a smug grin on that skeletal face. Beside the table a scoreboard appeared, and in the column labeled Death, one strike appeared.
Pinkie narrowed her eyes. “Fine. You wanna get serious. Let’s get serious.” She picked up her paddle, and with the serving of another perfect slam, the second game was on.
Pinkie put her all into it. She bounced around the table, using her seemingly boundless energy to get the drop on Death, and even being able to outguess several of Death’s attempts to herd her to the side of the table and abruptly turn them around.
The points rose, and Pinkie won a decisive second game.
“Yes!” Pinkie dropped the paddle again, pumping her hoof in the air. “One on the board!”
A pink tally appeared by her name, and she giggled at it.
She pointed at Death. “Just one more game, and I’m free! Right?”
Death stared at her with that empty expression, but nodded his head, and brought up his hoof, the ping pong ball appearing in it again. Game three began.
Pinkie threw herself into it with a giggle and a snort. She was doing great… but all that bounding was tiring. She was in overdrive, darting across the table whenever she needed, bouncing and panting.
By the time the score was 7-5 in game three, she was slowing down. Not very much, but just a little. Enough that darting across the board was getting tough. Death, however, didn’t slow down his own serves. Did tiredness not apply to skeletons? Or was he conserving energy due to not moving quite as much?
It didn’t matter. Pinkie couldn’t afford to lose, and she knew something had to change. She had to outplay this opponent. Ping pong balls flew across the table, aimed as far away as they could from the opponent. Pinkie crawled back up. Seven to seven. Eight to eight. Nine to eight. Ten to eight. She was one point away! She could taste victory!
And then...
Ten to nine.
Ten to ten.
Pinkie glared across the table at Death, panting. Her lead had been ruined, and now she merely teetered on the edge of victory, but her opponent was there as well. She tossed the ball up, serving. Back and forth and back and forth the ball went, volleying between the two of them with no tricks, just the ball speeding between the two. She had no time to think between shots, no time to plan or strategize, just enough time to move her head in place to paddle it back.
Death mechanically paddled the ball, his muzzle snapping into place for the shot. Pinkie felt sweat fly off her increasingly matted hair as she watched Death return every serve with precision. She was getting tired. She couldn’t count on Death making a mistake. She paddled it back and forth, watching Death, waiting for the moment. She struck, striking the ball to the side of the table that Death held the paddle toward. Death returned that easily, of course, and Pinkie slammed the ball to the opposite end of the table, further than Death could return.
Eleven to ten. But she had to win by two points.
Death raised the ball up in his hoof, and served again, and Pinkie struck immediately. As the ball reached its apex on her side, she slammed as hard as she could onto the board. Death had already moved, though, ready to intercept the ball as it flew to his bad side, as Pinkie’s winning shot did last play.
Too bad the ball was hit toward his good side, instead.
The ball flew off the side, a little hollow sound being heard as it clattered off into the distance.
Pinkie leapt up, pumping her fist. “Yeees! I win! I get to live!” She hopped around with a big smile on her face.
The grim reaper just stood there, the table and scoreboard fading away. His head tilted and everything else faded as well.
“Ohno no no no, Pinkie I’m so sorry!” The voice of Rainbow Dash was loud and close.
Pinkie snapped her eyes open to see Rainbow Dash’s face directly over hers. She broke into a big smile, and sprang up, wrapping Rainbow Dash up in a powerful hug. “Dashie!”
“P-Pinkie? Pinkie! You’re alright!” Dash pushed Pinkie off of her, looking her over.
“Yeah. I’m just fine.” She looked around, seeing she had fallen just a foot away from the water trough by the building. A shudder ran up her spine as she looked at it, but she looked back to her friend. “Alive and well.”
Dash pulled Pinkie back into her hug. “I’m sooo sorry, I thought it’d be funny to startle you but you were on the ladder and it won’t happen again I swear.”
Pinkie pat the panicking Dash on her back. “There there, Dashie. I’m fine and everything is alright, now.”
Pinkie skipped through the town, a cart bouncing behind her. It had been a whole week since Pinkie had her accident on the roof, and she hadn’t… told anyone of what she had seen when she was unconscious. Was it all a dream? It had seemed very real. Pinkie didn’t know whether or not it was actually for real real, but she felt great this whole week. She felt like she had a new lease on life, even if everything was completely the same.
And she was looking forward to the happy faces from the cake deliveries to make the day better and better. So she skipped through the town, humming to herself pleasantly, when she heard a crash from behind her, and the cart stopped pulling. Turning around she looked back to find one of the wheels had fallen off of the cart, rolling to a standstill on a house nearby.
Pinkie darted over to the cakes, making sure they were all upright. She sighed in relief, seeing they were all still alright, and the tilted cart was still alright. She bent down to inspect the cart, noting that the axle was cracked and bent, but not broken. She figured she could finish the delivery, and tried to push the cart up to balance it, to no avail. Turns out these cakes were heavy.
She got underneath the cart, trying to get the leverage to push it up, but unknown to her, perpendicular to the cart, Big Mac was pulling a delivery of cider. He stopped at the top of the hill, unhitching himself for a short break. Nopony else in town could handle this, he bet, and he laid back for a moment, catching his breath. But where nopony could see, the cart started rolling forward.
It wasn’t until it was already out of his easy grasping range that Big Mac noticed that it was rolling. He sprang up, darting after it. “No no no no no.” The cart continued to pick up speed, going far faster than Mac was able to run, and he started shouting. “Watch out!”
Pinkie pushed up with her back on the cart, trying to hold up the cart with three legs as she moved the wheel back onto the axle… she strained her back, and heard the deep voice of Big Mac. She gasped and let the cart down, slowly crawling out from underneath it.
She barely peeked out when the cider cart crashed into the cake cart, hundreds of pounds of wood and liquid smashed into Pinkie, and there was a crunch as she slammed into the house behind her.
Her eyes opened to the slightly-more-familiar empty blackness. She was sitting down this time, on the ground.
She wheeled around quickly. This couldn’t be happening again! She spun around, looking for any sign of the grim reaper, and sure enough, standing somewhat nearby was Death, in his distinctive black coat.
Pinkie gulped and smiled nervously. “You wouldn’t happen to be willing to play a game for my life again, would you?”
Death raised her hoof, and in between the two of them a green circular table rose up. In the center was a deck of cards, and a set of fifteen chips were on each side. Pinkie picked up one of the chips. There was a little ghost design on it, but no markings indicating any of them held any numerical value.
Meanwhile, the grim reaper took the deck and started shuffling it. Pinkie sat at the table, the implication clear. They would be gambling for her life this time.
Pinkie looked across the table. She was a great ping pong player, and she had won that.
She smirked. She was a very good poker player too. She could read ponies like books! Why, you’d have to have no facial expressions at all to get one past the ol’ Pinkster. The grim reaper’s empty eyes and fleshless face loomed underneath her hood, and Pinkie gulped.
Five cards were dealt to both sides, and the grim reaper put a single chip onto the table. Pinkie followed suit, then looked at her cards. A pair of Nines, a Jack, a Three, and a Seven.
She looked up at Death across the table, looking to see how he reacted to his cards. Pinkie stared into those expressionless empty holes, blackness behind them, not even able to see the back of the no doubt empty skull. Or was it empty? Was it filled with a formless blackness?
Either way, she stared, trying to figure out how Death was reacting but…
There was nothing. She could see nothing. Well, she’d just have to figure it out by how he exchanged cards.
Death tilted his head and gestured at Pinkie. It was her turn to bet. She knocked on the table, passing. Death put in a single chip, and Pinkie matched it. Pinkie tossed in three cards, holding onto just the pair, and Death responded by only throwing away one card. Then death put in three chips.
Only one card? Oh jeez he had a strong hand… or he was bluffing. She couldn’t be sure, and she scanned Death for any sense of what he’s feeling, to no avail. She was dealt three cards, giving her nothing else. Just a pair of nines, so she folded. Now to look at what Death had…
He slid his cards into the middle of the deck, passing it to Pinkie. Of course he wouldn’t show. The rules said nothing about having to show if everyone else folded. He just won immediately.
She shuffled the cards, and dealt the second hand. A whole lotta nothing. Pinkie grimaced, and looked up at Death, whose expression betrayed a whole lotta nothing, too, but she anted up. Death did the same, then put five whole chips into the pot. Pinkie pursed her lips. That’s a whole third of the starting amount. And she had nothin’. So she folded.
Which still put her another chip behind.
Hand three was dealt, ante was up, and hands were dealt. Ace, four, eight, ten, jack. Nothing very good, except the four and jack were both diamonds. She knocked to pass, but Death put in a single chip. And she stared at her hand, and hemmed and hawwed. It was just one chip… she decided to keep going.
Death exchanged two cards, and Pinkie scowled, and gave away three, keeping only the four and jack.
And drew all diamonds. The longshot paid off! She looked up at Death, his eyeless eyes boring into her, and she bet two chips.
Death then pushed five chips onto the board. She grinned and pushed the three more into it, and put her flush down onto the table. Death looked at the hand, and up to Pinkie, revealing he had nothing better than a pair.
Pinkie stared at the bad hand he had. He was bluffing? He bet a lot. Was he bluffing before? What caused him to bet so high… It was like he knew she had a long shot, but couldn’t tell if it had paid off.
She widened her eyes. She was visibly despondent when she had the bad hand, and struggling with it. He could tell. Stupid! She thought because she couldn’t read him that he couldn't read her. Of course he could. She didn’t smile, though she was tempted to.
Death proved to be sort of an easy mark, once she figured him out. She knew she couldn’t go overboard, she had to play it like she was just real lucky. Bluff him out once or twice, rely on luck a few times, but don’t obviously bluff.
Until the game was down to 5 to 25, in her favor, and she drew three fours on her first draw. She looked down, trying to look as despondent as possible. It was probably the best hand she had been dealt before exchanging cards. She looked up and grit her teeth, putting a single chip in for her bet.
Death called, and traded in two cards. Pinkie looked at her cards. The trade was obvious, of course, but she bit the inside of her lip instead, and slowly put down two cards. The new hand was dealt out, and one of those last two cards was the last four. Only a straight flush, or a better four of a kind could beat it.
She looked with wide eyes up to Death, and back down to her cards slowly. She put in just one chip, breathing heavily.
And he pushed two more chips onto the board, raising by one. Pinkie grimaced and groaned in mock frustration, and put down three chips, reraising the total bet to five. Death looked down at his cards, and back at Pinkie. Pinkie avoided his gaze, and tapped her hoof on the table in a way she hoped looked nervous.
He didn’t take much time before pushing the last of his chips in, and Pinkie gave a big relieved sigh.
Death reared his head back.
Pinkie looked up at him, laughing just a bit. “Alright alright, here we are.” She put her hand down on the table. Four fours.
Death just looked down at it, not moving, and placed his own hand down. It was three of a kind. Not a bad hand.
Not a good enough hand.
Pinkie sighed and laughed again. “Well, ya win some, ya lose some, Grimmy.”
Death looked at the hands, then back up to her, and everything started fading away again.
Pinkie woke up underneath her cart again, and she sprung up, looking up the hill, where Big Mac had grabbed the cart, and was tugging it back up to the top of the hill, hitching himself back up to it, and beginning to slowly wheel it down the hill.
Pinkie smiled to herself and sat down beside the cart, out of the way of the cart that had crushed her in… an alternate reality? Timeline? A vision. She didn’t know.
But now everything was alright, again. She had defeated the grim reaper for her soul again. In just one week. When she’d never had to meet him before this at all. Even during the dangerous adventures saving Equestria, this never happened.
… She was sure it was nothing, and everything was alright.
It had to be.
Pinkie marched herself into Sugarcube Corner, pulling the delivered cart behind her, with her chest puffed out. “Cakes delivered to happy ponies!”
Missus Cake smiled, her daughter riding on her back. “That’s wonderful, Pinkie. We got another big order in and Carrot is in the kitchen, but he could use some help.”
Pinkie saluted. “Can do, Missus Cake!” And she marched back into the kitchen.
The knife was a blur as Carrot Cake deftly sliced the strawberries as toppings. Mister Cake liked to cut them all at once, and his hoof was a blur, after years of practice. Pinkie stared at the blade, flashing super quick, and in a flash she imagined the blade coming off of the handle and sailing through the air, getting caught directly by Pinkie in her forehead.
Followed by another meeting with the grim reaper.
Pinkie cringed down, shielding her head with her hooves until Mister Cake finished cutting.
“Hello, Pinkie!” he greeted. “Come to help?”
Pinkie picked herself up. “Y-yeah! That’s me. Come to help,” she finished with a little unease. She walked over to the counter where Mister Cake had gently—and safely—set down the knife. “I’m ready to cook.”
“Good! Could you measure out the ingredients, and get the flour?”
Pinkie headed over to the walk-in cupboard to get the flour. When she came in, she was faced with cans and sacks and other supplies stacked high to the ceiling. One might say stacked precariously, so that any false move might just cause them to come crashing down on a pink pony’s head, sending her to the afterlife. Pinkie shuddered but carefully stepped into the cupboard, reached down to the bottom for the sack of flour.
Above her was a creak, and she immediately shot back out of the door, looking up. Nothing… looked like it was about to fall. M-maybe she was imagining it? She crept back into the room, and with a swift movement, grabbed the flour sack and dragged it out, only for it to fall over outside of the cupboard, spilling flour onto the floor.
“Pinkie?” Mister Cake looked over the counter at Pinkie on the floor with the flour. “Are you alright?”
Pinkie blushed. “Sorry, Mister Cake. Just a… little trip. I’ll clean it up after I’m done measuring it out.” She fetched the measuring cups from the drawer, and started measuring them out, and just as she was pouring another cup into the mixing bowl, there was a loud clank from above her, and she shot back away from the counter, the cup of flour going everywhere.
She looked around in a panic, and saw the two pans above the oven, with an open window next to them to let in the breeze, blowing them into each other. Pinkie panted heavily, staring up at them.
“Pinkie! What has gotten into you.”
She jumped with just a bit of a start at Mister Cake’s voice, but then laughed, rubbing the back of her head. “Sorry… sorry… I’m just… a little jumpy today.”
Carrot sighed. “Well maybe I should take it from here, and you take some time off.”
Looking at the spilled flour, Pinkie gave her best puppy eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mister Cake.”
“It… it’s alright, Pinkie.”
Pinkie started plodding upstairs. “I promise I’ll just… take a bath to calm down.”
Carrot Cake gave her a wry smile and nodded.
Pinkie headed upstairs to the bathroom, turning on the water, pouring in the bubbles, and hopping in, dragging her pet alligator in with her. She held Gummy up, looking at him. “Oh, Gummy. That last almost-accident really has me rattled. But you think I’ll be okay, right?”
He blinked at her.
Pinkie sighed. “You’re probably right.”
She spent a little bit soaking in the tub. It was so warm, and she was so frazzled from, well, dying, that it was a great relief. As she lay down, her eyes grew heavy, and she slipped closer and closer to sleep, as well as further and further down into the water. Shortly, her nose slipped under the water too, and she inhaled again.
She woke up suddenly and started thrashing, pulling herself up roughly, sputtering and coughing, leaning over the side of the tub. She coughed and panted, expelling the last of the gulp of water she’d inhaled, and let out a ragged gasp for breath.
She could have died. Again.
The grim reaper was waiting for her. Waiting for her to drown, so that he could finish her off. She was done with this bath, and she looked over the side to see the floor, which had sudsy water splashed on it. Sudsy slippery water. Sudsy slippery water she was liable to break her neck on. She found a part of the floor without any suds and carefully stepped onto the floor, tiptoeing around the suds, until she was a safe distance away.
She breathed a sigh of relief, dried off, and made her way into her room. She made her way to her bed, and lay down in it, looking up at the balcony that was around her room at the top. The balcony that she knew had extra party supplies on top. Extra party supplies that were not always in boxes. Extra party supplies that could fall down and crush her while she slept.
She had to do something about it, and she threw the covers off and scrambled upstairs. It was a big hassle, and it took up lots of space in her room, but she managed to get it all off the balcony and onto the floor where it couldn’t fall on her and suffocate her or hit her head.
She lay down in her bed, trying not to think of all the ways that an accident could befall her.
Rainbow Dash stood at Pinkie Pie’s door, with Carrot Cake behind her, looking concerned.
“And she hasn’t been out at all?” She said.
Carrot nodded. “For three days now. She was acting… odd the few days before that. Jumpy and skittish, but now she’s holed herself up in her room and won’t leave.”
Raising her eyebrow. “And you’re sure Pinkie isn’t just like sick or something?”
Carrot shook his head. “She still talks, and she’s been eating when we bring her food. She just hasn’t… been coming out. Insisting it wasn’t safe out here.”
Rainbow Dash groaned. “Alright, alright. I’ll give it a go.” She banged on the door. “Pinkie! It’s me!”
“Dashie!” her voice came from the room. “Hi! Howsit going!”
“I dunno, why don’t you come out and you can see.”
There was a pause. “No, I don’t think I will do that. Y-you can just yell from there.”
Dash sighed, and she put her hoof on the door, and found that it was not locked. “Look, I’m coming in!”
“B-be careful!”
Dash opened the door, and entered the room, which was laid out bizarrely. All the boxes and stuff were all laid out in a big circle away from her bed, none of them stacked more than two boxes high, and only when they were far away from the bed. There was a clear path to Pinkie’s bed.
Pinkie herself was laying on the bed with no covers, just a pillow, and she waved sheepishly. “H-hi, Dashie.”
Rainbow Dash took to the air and started flapping toward the center.
“W-wait!” Pinkie said. “J-just walk. It’ll be safer.”
Planting her feet on the ground, she slowly walked toward Pinkie in the center. “So… what’s up?”
“Oh, n-nothin. Just… spendin some time in my room.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Why?”
Pinkie looked around suspiciously. “It’s too dangerous out there. Much safer in here.”
Rainbow Dash blinked at Pinkie. “Ohhh… kay. It’s not… that dangerous out there, you know that, right?”
“No, it’s real real dangerous. I could trip and fall down the stairs and break my neck, or I could go out into town and get hit by stampeding cows and they could break my neck, or I could be walking beside a house and someone could throw a rug out of the second story window and it hits me and wrenches and breaks my neck.” She hopped out of bed, strolling around it in a circle. “It’s funny, you know. I had never thought about how easy it is to break a pony’s neck before, but now--” She grabbed Rainbow Dash by her shoulders. “--I can’t think of anything else.”
“Pinkie, this is nuts. You won’t be hit by stampeding cows, and you’ve never fallen down the stairs.”
“I’d never fallen off of the roof either, but I did that just fine!”
The room descended into silence. Rainbow Dash frowned. “Is this… is this all my fault?”
“No!” Pinkie shot up and waved her hooves. “No no no. It’s not your fault! I was being clumsy and fell off, I mean, it wasn’t even slightly your fault I got hit by that cart a week later.”
Rainbow Dash raised her eyebrow. “Uh… you didn’t get hit by a cart.”
“Not that you know.” Pinkie grabbed Rainbow Dash, pulling her up close and staring into her eyes. “But I totally did until I beat the Grim Reaper at poker and that timeline was unmade so the cart never hit me instead.”
“... Riiiight.” She brushed Pinkie off of her. “Look, Pinkie… this isn’t good for you. You can’t live the rest of your life here.”
“Sure I can!” Pinkie hopped back onto the bed. “I can get food from Mister and Missus Cake, and my friends can still come and visit, and everything can be good!”
“But, Pinkie, you kinda need to work for the Cakes. They probably don’t wanna give you food for nothing.”
Pinkie squirmed in her bed. “I can probably find something to do for them from here in this room.”
“Sure, but your friends won’t be able to come and visit all the time, you’ll miss out on the stuff we do as friends you know, outside.”
Pinkie looked down. “Well… I mean… at least you’ll come and visit.”
Rainbow Dash flapped up into the air, throwing her hooves up. “Well if you stay here forever, how will you plan any parties! With all the stuff on the ground like this, nowhere to go, and no place to hold it!”
Pinkie bit her lip, and looked around at the room around her, she gritted her teeth and grimaced and finally said, “Alright I know I can’t stay here forever.” She threw herself forward and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s shoulders again. “But the grim reaper is coming for me. I escaped him! I cheated him out of his quarry and he wants me dead! I could have a life-ending accident at any time, and if I leave I could have so many more accidents than in here.”
Rainbow Dash shifted around and put a comforting hoof around Pinkie. “Look, Pinkie, this is dumb. I dunno what’s got you spooked, because your story is” she snorted “kinda ridiculous, but look, you need to get over this. Let’s go outside, and I’ll be there the whole time, watching for anything to come and hurt you, alright?”
Pinkie paused, but she relented. “... Alright, Dashie.”
“That’s the ticket! Let’s get going.”
So they did. Pinkie followed Rainbow Dash out of the house… and no accidents yet. She strolled through the town. It was a beautiful day in Ponyville, it really was. She looked around and watched the happy ponies going about their day, and it put a smile on her face.
Rainbow Dash smirked. “I see that smile over there, Pinkie.”
Pinkie blushed. “Alright alright, I know. It’s good to be out of the house.”
“That’s the Pinkie I know!”
The two of them continued through the town, looking at the ponies going about their business. Ponies pulling carts, tending to gardens. In the distance she could see ponies even doing work trying to tend to some trees.
Pinkie whirled around, walking backwards, waving to a pony,
Rainbow Dash, for her part, flapped up and around, “See! Everything is normal, and no crazy death-prospects anywhere. Just a normal day in Ponyville.”
“Yeah… I guess I was being sil--”
“Tiiiiimbeeeeer!” a voice resounded.
Pinkie Pie whirled around just in time to see a tree trunk hurtling down directly at her skull, colliding painfully with it, smashing her head, and the rest of her into a crumpled heap.
And she was in a dark featureless realm again, this time standing and looking up. She sighed wearily and wilted into a heap. The flump of a cloak and rattling clop of skeletal hooves turned her head to Death, who waited once more.
Pinkie stood up, steeling her nerves, and turned to face Death. “So, what’s the game this time?”
He stepped back, and between then rose a small checkered table, and on it four rows of pieces, uniform in the front, with a selection in back. A chess board. Pinkie resisted a gulp of panic. She wasn’t very good at chess.
But she was white, and white went first. She went to pick up a pawn, placing it two steps ahead, and the game was on. The two of them started advancing their pawn lines forward. Pinkie looked over at her pawns as they moved closer, occasionally a rook or knight shifting position as well. It seemed like all her back line was doing was supporting her pawns! The worst pieces! So she decided to move her bishop up into an aggressive position, threatening a knight..
Immediately that knight was moved onto one of her pawns, the same pawn that the bishop was protecting. The first piece was Death’s. But… it was just a pawn. Not a big deal.
The game proceeded, and death captured just a few more pawns, but the first knight to go made Pinkie’s mistake clear. Without those pawns for defense, there were actually quite a few places Death could move more safely.
Pinkie went on the offensive, trying to score pawns of her own, but for every piece she captured, Death captured more of hers. She was fighting a losing battle, and her pieces were being whittled away, and then after one of Death’s moves, he knocked on the ground with his forehoof. She looked puzzled for a moment, and he motioned to the middle of her board. She followed her vision across, to find that the bishop just moved had put her in check.
Oh. She scanned the board for a moment, and moved her king just a step forward.
The game started really turning, and Pinkie’s heart sank further and further down into her chest. She just couldn’t match him on the board like this. She kept making moves that lost her pieces, got her in check, and never was able to put pressure on him like he did for her. He was always at least a step ahead of her, and might have been many many steps ahead.
In time, she had been worked into a corner. She had to retreat her king behind one of her pieces on the corner, and she was pinned by a rook. Death reached for the queen, and slid her over to the rank that the king was on. He didn’t remove his hoof, the signal to indicate that was his final move, but it was checkmate.
Pinkie’s heart plummeted. This was it. The real end. Death had won.
It was always inevitable. Pinkie had to win every time, but Death only had to win once. He would just keep coming, until he won. She looked up at Death, at those empty black eyes, resignation plain on her face.
Death didn’t remove his hoof, however, and instead moved the queen back to the place she came from, and reached over to his own king. With a slight nudge, he tipped it over.
Pinkie stared at Death. “Wait… but… doesn’t… tipping over your king mean you give up? That I get to keep living?”
Death nodded.
Pinkie wordlessly moved her mouth, trying to find words to speak, but everything faded away before she did.
She woke up standing, the tree that had crashed down upon her crashing a good six feet to one side. So far away that she wasn’t even scratched by it. She looked at the fallen tree dumbly, and plopped awkwardly on her behind.
“Pinkie!” a voice came from beside her, and she looked over slowly. Rainbow Dash landed roughly next to her, concern on her face. “Are you alright?”
Pinkie nodded. “Yeah… I’m… I’m fine.”
Rainbow Dash laughed in relief. “Ohmigosh when I saw that tree come down I actually thought you might have been right, but it sailed clear past you, didn’t it?”
Pinkie slowly turned her head back to the tree. “Yeah… that’s right. Right past me.”
“Uh, Pinkie, are you sure you’re okay? You are acting weirder than you were just a few minutes ago. And that’s already weirder than usual.”
Pinkie looked back, and shook her head out vigorously, shaking away the awkwardness. She wasn’t dead. It had still worked out. “Yes.” She said, hopping up. “Yes I am fine. Let’s go get some lunch.”
As they walked away, she glanced back at the tree that recently missed her. Her fear was gone, but one question remained in her mind:
Why?
Pinkie Pie sat in her room, idly poking a bouncy ball. Not bouncing it. Just rolling it around. It had been two weeks since the last time she’d died, and she was still stumped as to why it happened.
She didn’t just lose, she lost terribly. It was a trouncing. She even went to Twilight, tried to read some books on how chess worked, and it didn’t really help. Especially not when she lost to Twilight nearly as badly.
So why did Death let her go? Was it over? Was she no longer going to get in accidents? She stopped being paranoid and not going out, and there were no accidents at all.
And she should stop worrying about it, right? But instead she felt super curious. Why did what happened happen? Just what was going on?
Ultimately, she decided she had to know, so she set out of town. There was a perfect place she knew of. She hoped Maud would be out, and she was. Maud’s underground paradise sure was beautiful, with mossy rocks and water cascading down deep into the earth.
So she set out onto the precarious edges and the slippery moss, finding the perfect place, a ledge around the side. It was a sluice of rocks with water running down them, covered in moss with a large pit underneath, the water not having anywhere to pool.
She stood at the edge of the rocks, and started to walk across, stepping slowly and carefully onto the rocks. She was surprisingly calm, given that she was expecting her footing to give way any moment, and as she walked, her guess came true. A mossy rock shifted underneath her hoof against another slippery rock, causing the sluice to come loose and she tumbled down, down, down and slammed her head onto the hard rock below.
She woke up in the empty darkness once more, almost standing on her head, and she righted herself. “Hello?” she called out, looking for the robed pony. “Heloooo. Grimmy? Grim Reaper?”
A sound direcly behind her made her jump, and she whirled around to see the figure of the Grim Reaper. She breathed a sigh. “Okay. It’s just you.”
The Grim Reaper said nothing, staring at her. His jaw clacked uselessly, and his head tilted.
Pinkie Pie stared back, apparently expecting a response that wasn’t coming. “Anyway, I was a little confused, and I uh… I have a lot of questions.”
Death stared at her, and his mouth moved, but, well, he didn’t seem to have lips. Or a tongue. Or lungs. Or anything that allowed him to talk.
Pinkie grimaced a little. “So… I guess the biggest question is… why did you let me win? Why did I get in more accidents in 3 weeks than ever before? Why is any of this happening at all?”
At this, he dramatically whirled around, taking a few steps away, before stamping on the ground, and the ping pong table rose once more, and he twisted around to face Pinkie, the paddle already in his mouth.
Pinkie scrambled for her own paddle as Death raised his hoof, the ball appearing in it by magic once more, he served up, and she scrambled to return the serve.
The game was on, and like last time, Death served to be a skilled player, tricky and versatile. He was good. But Pinkie was frustrated. Why couldn’t he just answer her. He can make all the stuff for games, right? Get a piece of paper and write it down. Don’t be so darn frustrating!’
Death smacked the ball across and scored his point, and Pinkie was up to serve. All he did was start this stupid game instead of answering.
Pinkie paused, right before her serve. What if… What if this was his answer? What could he be trying to say with… ping pong? She stared at him, but he had no face to read, an empty eyed skull looking back at her. So she did the only thing she could do: kept playing.
The game was fast paced and tough, like before. Neither Pinkie nor Death had an advantage for long, and most points felt hard fought for. She found herself smirking as she won her points and felt the sting of disappointment if he scored a point on her, but… without the threat of never coming back to the land of the living, it was a different sort of sting.
Just the normal sting of a game well fought. A fun game well fought. Really, it was hard to find people this good. Pinkie won a lot in ping pong, after she got better than her sisters. Except Maud, of course, she was a real competitor.
Now that she thought about it, playing against Death was a lot like playing against Maud. Maud was hard to read, she was smart and seemed to not get tired or frustrated. But the games were always fun.
This game was fun.
… It was a lotta fun, once Pinkie didn’t have to worry about, you know, dying.
It came time for her to serve, and she put her paddle down. “Death… you’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
Death stared back into her, the same frustrating lack of answer. But… his jaw was moving back and forth just a little bit, wiggling his paddle. She couldn’t tell very well because of the black cloak, but maybe his shoulders relaxed just a little? If she imagined it, she could imagine a pair of eyes looking up, searching for an answer.
“Have you… ever enjoyed yourself before?”
This time she could see it, now that she was looking for it: Death’s shoulders seized up in shock. Did he not know? Could he have just been doing his… death-work the whole time? Or had it just been a very long time?
She stared at Death, who waggled his head just a little, not exactly facing her, and she stood the paddle back up with her hoof, spinning it around lengthwise. “Tell ya what. Why don’t we finish our game?” She flipped the paddle into the air, snatching it with her mouth as it came back down.
Death followed the paddle with his head, then looked to her and nodded, his jaw gripping his paddle more seriously.
Pinkie smirked and the game was on.
I published! This has been in the finalization phase for rather a while. I hope you enjoyed this tale of death and games and less darkness at the end.
Here's a fact that I have deemed "fun": the inspiration came from a recent They Might Be Giants song. Remember them? Well they never stopped making music and they still do:
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There is only one POSSIBLE CONCLUSION!!! Death Needs Cake! Give ole Grimmy a party!
8897275
Possibly a party to celebrate his bajillionth birthday!
Reminds me of this song somehow
https://m.Cake’s -- Cakes
Okay, I admit, I didn't see that last part coming. Death coming for Pinkie because Death enjoyed playing games with her. That is somehow the most fitting ending I could imagine, though. I liked it, I really did.
The story ended up being less silly than I'd expected, but I think that may have been for the best. Pinkie Pie is good for things other than silliness, and I enjoy seeing that explored.
Incidentally, there's a RariPie story in which Pinkie is an amazing chess player. That's not really relevant, I just felt like bringing it up.
STORY SPOILERS:
I laughed so hard as the Reaper played pingpong. I don't know, I just found that funny. Although I kinda predicted the reason death kept trying to kill her. It seemed so fitting to Pinkie's lifelong ambition. A very good story (puts in bookshelf to reread later)
PinkieGrimmy best ship.
Don't worry Pinkie! Just slip on a Banana Peel and Death will surely let you go back. It's foolproof
8897506 8897549
One of you didn't guess the ending, the other did?
There's only one solution to this problem. Pistols at dawn.
I could see a headcanon that Pinkie could also be good at chess, just because she manages to be good at many different things, and possibly could be a master at planning. But I didn't want basically an invincibly smart and planned Pinkie. She had to be vulnerable somehow.
8897383
I also fixed this. Thanks.
The Unspeakable Pinkie Pie laughs at death!
...okay it's more laughs with, but still...
Magnificent. I did not see that ending coming, but I love it! I've seen a story or two where Death is afraid of Pinkie for whatever reason, but the idea of Death just being lonely and getting Pinkie killed just to enjoy a fun game with her is both sweet and creepy and I love it! Only one question: how can Death tweak the timeline like that? Is he like Sans?
I have a bookshelf called top 40 stories, but now it has 41 thanks to this story
Ah, good old TMBG; the only reason I read this was because I recognized the song title.
Still, this was well-written.
Okay...so when is Pinky going to break every physical rule possible and bring him to the real world to get some cake in him?
8899902
Awesome. I'm more surprised someone else knows some of their recent songs. I mean, it's not like they stopped writing, but it's hardly their heyday.
8899677
Nah, the powers of Death aren't really "well defined" in that way. Because Pinkie won, she didn't die, so things just sorta... worked out, instead of her having a lethal accident.
There should be a crossover tag, this is the plot of the Ingmar Bergman film "Seventh Seal"
I do not think hooves can form fists ... but then again, it's Pinkie Pie, but still...
I find these two words a bit weird. For one, you're trying to make skelepone show no emotion whatsoever, and two, the word "again" is implying that "he" glared at her a few moments ago, yet "he" didn't, sooo...
Typo.
I'm still reading, so I'll edit this comment if I spot anything else.I'm done reading, and it's pretty nice.
8900441
Ah yeah, Pinkie definitely doesn't have a fist.
That's a fair cop. In that previous event, the word I used was stared, so I changed this second one.
And fixed. Thankya.
8899902 What's TMBG?
*looks up* Hmm, I've heard of the band... but I can't think of any one specific song I know. *examines wiki* Oh! They did "Particle Man", I do know that one, along with the "Malcolm in the Middle" theme song.
I recognized similarities in the title to "I'll be Watching You" from Sting and The Police from their 1983 album "Synchronicity".
Pinkie's 'Pinkie Sense' has ceased to function in this story, I see.
8900090
Actually, the concept of challenging Death (or some other supernatural being) for your life or the life of a loved one dates back far into antiquity. There are examples in Greek and Egyptian mythology, and even one of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales touched on it. It's become common enough that it's considered a trope.
I love this. This is an amazing concept. I've seen various stories about Pinkie and the figure of Death interacting with each other; the ones where Death is afraid of Pinkie seems to be the most common version. (I mean, who can blame him?) This is the best one I read. Congratulations.
Signing out, VShuffler42
8900027
I can't remember where exactly I first got into the band, but I'm subscribed to their official youtube channel.
Good thing, too, with their dial-a-song program; I can't think of many bands who could write 52 songs a year... at least not more than once.
Vem är du?
Jag är döden.
Har du kommit för att hämta mig?
Jag har redan länge gått vid din sida...
Det vet jag.
Är du beredd?
Min kropp är redd! Inte jag själv.
...
Vänta ett ögonblick.
Så säger ni alla, men jag lämnar inga upskov.
Du spelar ju schack, inte sant?
Hur vet du det?
Aah. Jag har ju sett det i målningar och hört det i visorna.
Ja, jag är en ganska skicklig schackspelare....
Varför vill du spela schack med mig?
Det är min sak.
Det har du rätt i.
Villkoret är att jag får leva så länge jag står dig emot. Spelar jag dig matt, frigör du mig.
*Shuffles pieces*
Du fick svart.
Det passar ju bäst så, inte sant?
Sorry... I just had to.
So that's why Pinkie never dies!
Figures that Pinkie could even cheer the Grim Reaper up.
Pinkie grimaced a little. “So… I guess the biggest question is… why did you let me win? Why did I get in more accidents in 3 weeks than ever before? Why is any of this happening at all?”
The skeletal pony chuckled unexpectedly. "Oh Pinkie, playing against you is the only fun part of this entire job."
"Wait, is that... Twilight?"
8902651
8900090
Well, that's two references to "The Seventh Seal" now in my comments, now.
But I was clearly referencing Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.
Five minutes of Google-Fu later.
Which, given that Death looks exactly like he does in "The Seventh Seal" means that they were referencing The Seventh Seal in Bogus Journey. Huh.
8900090
Wow, people really hate this comment.
8904789
Maybe they took the "you gotta add this tag" seriously? I dunno. I agree with the commenter that followed you that playing a game against death for your life is a wider part of myth than the one movie, but I appreciate broadening my knowledge to include that movie as well.
This might explain how Pinkie cheats death on a regular basis.
For the record, I figured out what Death was up to when he tipped his king in the chess match. In his place, I probably would have done the same thing. Great story, would read over and over again.
Rather sweet. Death just wanted a friend.
Silly author, ponies don't have hands. They have hoofses!
8911395
Silly me, indeed. It has been fixed.
I kind of had the inkling after the first death, where Death entertained her notion by playing a game with her, and it was solidified by the time he played her as second time: Death just wanted a friend. One who could play games with him, and could usually keep him entertained, too. So it's classic Pinkie Pie, to be able to make friends with even the ponyfication of Death, which is really rather quite touching. And of course that got proved by the time he let Pinkie go back after playing chess, though now she'll have to brush up on playing chess so she can give him a challenge as well.
Still, very fun read. It's definitely in-character for Pinkie to be able to smile and even bring cheer to Death.
Great to gain a new friend. Even though setting up play-dates is a bit of a chore.
This likely should have been in italics, but somehow it was missed.
Anyway, this was a delightfully weird idea done seriously in a satisfyingly wholesome way. Thank you for writing this!
10244113
It should! I edited it. And... I also removed the last comma as it is not punctually correct.
And thanks! It's a melange of all these pop culture tropes about death that all goes in a different direction, and I'm happy with that.
10245662
As you should be. I hope you write more one day.
A nice piece Rad, attention holding from start to finish ^_^