Grasshopper Pie

by brokenimage321

Chapter 1

“What do you think, Pinkie?”

“Huh?” Pinkie said, looking up. She glanced around the circle, and found everyone else staring at her expectantly.

Immediately, the voices began.

What was the question? Anyone catch the question?

Of course not. She was daydreaming again.

Don’t be so mean, now, she didn’t mean it--it’s hard—

What’s hard is cleaning up after the mess she makes all the time. I don’t know how she—

And, suddenly, a third voice cut in:

Girls, it said, Leave her alone. You’re making it even harder on her.

A split second of blessed silence.

Now, Sweetie, the new voice said, Try again.

Pinkie smiled.

“Sorry, Twi,” she said aloud, “I guess I was just so excited about the party, that I kinda stopped listening…”

She glanced around the outdoor cafe. She was seated at a table with her six friends--Rarity, Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, and, um…

Fluttershy, a voice prompted.

Fluttershy, that’s right. The yellow one was Fluttershy. That's embarassing... you'd think she'd remember by now...

Pinkie turned back to Twilight again. “Can you repeat the question?” she asked.

Twilight rolled her eyes, a little smile quirking her lips. “I said,” she repeated, “I was thinking maybe you could do that cake you mentioned last week--the…” Twilight furrowed her brow. “The, um, super-duper choco surprise….”

Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano, the other voice cut in.

“The Seven-Layer Quadruple Chocolate Deathcano?” Pinkie repeated. She grinned a little. “I have been meaning to try that one. As long as you have those waivers I asked for—!”

Pinkie heard a giggle and a groan inside her own skull, followed by a deeper bass chuckle.

Pinkie glanced furtively around the table. Applejack was shaking her head, Fluttershy was giggling to herself, and Twilight was smiling indulgently. Rainbow was staring up at a passing cloud, while Rarity was inspecting a forehoof.

“Well,” Twilight said, “I think we have the cake settled then--hopefully, she added, with an uneasy look at Pinkie. “Now, onto the main event…”

* * *

Pinkie ducked around the side of the cafe, pressed herself against the wall, and let out a low, long sigh.

The voices began almost immediately.

That was a close one.

We’ve made it through worse.

No closer than a half-dozen other scrapes this week. Trust me, I’ve been listening. And you don’t have much room to talk...

Pinkie peeled herself away from the wall, then started walking home. The chatter inside her brain continued, uninterrupted.

How was I supposed to know that Applejack was going to burst in while I was baking?

Still not a good excuse for how you acted.

I panicked, okay?

And threw a pie at her? Really? That was the best you could think of?

Pinkie passed a pony, with a blue coat and blue-and-white mane. She smiled—

Minuette, prompted one of the voices. Lives in Canterlot. Watchmaker. I wished her “Happy Birthday” when I was on shift last week.

“What day was it?” Pinkie muttered.

Thursday. Four days ago.

“Hi, Minuette!” Pinkie cried. “How’s the four-days-ago birthday filly?”

Minuette’s smile widened. “Hey Pinkie,” she said warmly. “I’m doing alright, thanks for asking.”

“Did your wish come true yet?” Pinkie asked.

“Nah,” Minuette replied. “Not that sort of wish.”

“You got time, then!” Pinkie said brightly. “Say hello to Canterlot for me!”

“I will, Pinkie,” Minuette said. She turned and walked down the street, head held high. Pinkie watched her go.

We’ll have to ask her about Canterlot next time we see her, one of the voices said grumpily.

Might be overkill... but she might appreciate it, too.

Already made a note of it, either way.

“Hush up, will ya?” Pinkie said aloud. “I can’t concentrate with all you going at once.”

Sorry. Going quiet now.

Yeah, didn’t mean it. Sorry.

A brief silence.

We’re waiting, said the voice, irritated.

A groan.

Sorry, the last voice grumbled.

“It’s fine,” Pinkie said. “I just have a couple more errands to run, and you know I can't listen and focus at the same time.”

The voices stayed silent, but she could tell they were still listening.

“I’ll be home soon,” Pinkie said. “See you then.”

* * *

Pinkie sighed, dropped her bags on the floor of her room, and flopped on her bed. She stared at the ceiling for a minute, then turned and looked at her bedside clock. She was actually a few minutes overdue. But still, the bed was so comfy…

She groaned, then rolled out of bed. She walked to the decorative ice-cream cone on the stair railing and pressed the hidden switch. Behind her, the hatch to the Party Cave dropped open. Pinkie walked over and slid her way down to the basement, then took a deep breath of the dank, musty air. She walked over to one of the filing cabinets and, without even having to look, reached out and grabbed the handle on one of the drawers in her teeth--the one labeled Pie, P. D. “Pinkie”. But, instead of pulling the drawer open, she twisted the handle.

The handle rotated ninety degrees and stopped with a quiet click. Pinkie pulled the handle, and the entire front of the filing cabinet swung open on a hinge, revealing a cramped, dark space behind it. On the floor, a narrow stairway, well-worn from use, descended into the rock. Pinkie stepped inside and headed down, pulling the cabinet closed behind her.

A few short steps later, Pinkie stepped into a small, circular chamber. The walls were studded with crystals that glowed pink in the gloom, revealing a series of signs:

ARE YOU DRESSED?

SMILE, SMILE, SMILE

ASK FOR HELP

ALWAYS BE SMILING

MAXIMUM FLOOF

And, beneath a sign bearing a detailed portrait of herself--complete with exact heights, widths, and color palettes--hung one more sign, printed in bright red:

! ! ! NO MATTER WHAT, STAY DISGUISED ! ! !

Standing just underneath that final sign, leaning against the wall of the tunnel leading deeper into the cavern and looking deeply irritated, stood a mare. She had a pink coat, bright blue eyes, a curly mane, and a cutie mark of three balloons. When Pinkie saw her, the other mare rolled her eyes and glanced significantly at the watch she wasn’t wearing.

“Took you long enough,” the other Pinkie said with a growl.

“Sorry,” Pinkie said. “Got sidetracked a little.”

“It’s no big deal,” other-Pinkie said sourly. “It’s not like I still have to figure out how the vermilingua to make a ‘Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano,’ whatever that’s supposed to be.”

Pinkie shrugged. “Milk, dark, and white,” she said. “That’s three chocolates right there.”

Other-Pinkie shook her head. “Oh, please,” she groaned. “White chocolate isn’t real chocolate. You stick to singing, and I’ll handle the cakes.”

Other-Pinkie raised a hoof and held it in the air. Pinkie grinned, then raised her own hoof and clicked it against hers in a high-hoof. There was nothing special about the gesture; it was just something of a tradition that they’d come up with over time. But still, their little ritual flipped a switch in Pinkie’s brain: she was Pinkie no longer. Instead, other-Pinkie had taken the torch.

Other-Pinkie sensed the change, too; her sour attitude fell away, and she smiled brightly. “See you in a few hours, okey dokey lokey?” she said brightly.

Pinkie smiled. “We will. Knock ‘em dead.”

“Hopefully not,” other-Pinkie said, as she turned and started up the stairs. “And, if I do, they’ve already signed the wai-ver—!”

Pinkie chuckled to herself as she watched her go. When she heard the secret door up above open and shut, she turned away, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She felt the rising tide of magic, felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand on end--and, suddenly, she erupted in a flash of pink flame.

Comments

[Scyphi]

“It’s not like I still have to figure out how the vermilingua to make a ‘Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano,’"

Vermilingua--literally, a Latin portmanteau of "worm" and "tongue," the term usually used to refer to the taxonomic suborder of which anteaters are a part of (hence the name).

So...being translated..."how the wormtongue"? Or "how the anteater"? Or was it just made up, and it only happened to be spelled the same as an actual term?

[brokenimage321]

9943619
Ah, I was gonna change this one to a different reference... Oh well.

Humans swears tend to referencing diseases (E.g., "lousy" = full of lice) or something forbidden (E.g., "hell"). That's why one of my preferred pony-swears is "foundering"--"founder" is a really serious medical condition that makes horses' hooves fall off.

Given that we're not dealing strictly with ponies anymore, though, maybe they should have a different set of swears, don't you think? Perhaps ones that are a little more insect-like in nature?

[Comickook]

Oddly enough, Pinkie being a "shared identity" of literally fifty different Changelings makes WAY more sense than IT SHOULD.

A surprisingly logical Alternate Universe story, but one that doesn't skimp on the humor either (which makes sense as Pinkie IS the featured character).

All in all, really good work on the exchanges, characterizations and future chapter set-up in all the right places.

On to the next chapter.

[RuBoo]

Seven-Layer Quadruple-Chocolate Deathcano , the other voice cut in.

...Sounds delicious.

[SIGAWESOME]

9945008

...Sounds delicious.

Make sure you sign the waiver first!

[ShadwSonic]

9943704
Makes you wonder where the heck "ponyfeathers" came from... or why "peeved" is something that should be censored.
Aaaand now I'm thinking the former might be a sex-related term somehow, to complement the obvious excrement-related term (i.e. horseapples)...

[brokenimage321]

9947105

Actually, you're not far off...

https://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/horse-feathers.html

TL;DR: "Horsefeathers" (meaning "nonsense" or "rubbish") originated as a euphemism for "horseshit"; MLP changed it to "Ponyfeathers."