The Distant Princess

by GMBlackjack

XV - Party Postulations

Parties are there with every culture throughout history. Even those robots who claim to be without emotion had days where they sat and observed the sun rise while remembering their history. It was the worst party in the history of the world, but it was still a party.

I have a distaste for parties. It seems as though they’re engineered to make sure you know exactly how much more fun everyone is having than you. The only good kind of party is one that you set up to get something out of the partygoers.

Yet, despite parties being a central part of Equestrian culture, the ponies rarely use their parties for any sort of point. They just like to have fun throwing parties, to the extent that there is probably a big one going on somewhere every day. Even the expert “party ponies” somehow keep their innocence.

Usually.

~~~

Pinkie pulled the candy throne’s cushion up, investigating the underside. Bringing her magnifying glass closer, she found a half-finished triangle carved into the seat’s frame. “Hmmm…”

“What, did you find a clue?” Marceline said, smirking.

“Yes, actually, an incomplete triangle carving,” Pinkie said, gesturing. “I have no idea what it means, but it looks recent! It could have something to do with the King’s disappearance…”

Marceline rolled her eyes. “I think he just forgot about us. Or, alternatively, wanted to avoid talking to us.”

“Hmm…” Pinkie said, climbing to the top of the throne and leaning over the backside, finding more scratches there. Before she could get any closer, there was a shout.

“What are you doing on my throne!?”

Pinkie let out a “yipe!” and jumped next to Marceline, immediately entering a bow. “I am so, so, so sorry, Your Highness! We thought you had vanished and were investigating to figure out what had happened to you so we might save you!”

“Hmm…” The King of Ooo approached Pinkie. He was a short man with waxy yellow skin, a beard that looked like a cotton ball, and an unnaturally smooth mustache. The robe he wore was so large it increased his volume at least threefold, the dull yellows and oranges of the cloth accenting his own muted color scheme. Motion was not easy in the oversized garment, but he managed to look regal as he walked to Pinkie. He leaned forward, holding out a scepter to Pinkie’s head. “I could always use more people as concerned for my safety as you are.”

Pinkie kept her head down. “I’m no more concerned than your banana guards, Your Highness.”

“Those idiots?” the King chuckled. “They’re concerned, but they don’t even know what an investigation is! You, I can tell, have the spark of someone who’ll stop at nothing to save her King from the clutches of whatever evil seeks to threaten the Candy Kingdom!” He hefted his scepter into the air.

“I am sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot be your private investigator. I am Ambassador Pinkie Pie of Equestria.”

The King stopped. “Y-you’re not one of my subjects?”

“No, Your Highness.”

The King coughed. “Well then, uh, rise! Yes, rise!”

Pinkie pie jumped up from her bow, grinning. “Thank you!”

“And thank you, Ambassador Ponkle Donk, for showing such initiative and devotion to me! It appears my popularity has spread beyond the borders of the Candy Kingdom!”

“...Sure.”

The King sat in his throne, looking down at Pinkie, Marceline, and the banana guards with an expression of mixed contempt, curiosity, and mild boredom. Behind this veneer, however, were baggy eyes and a tired mouth. “So, right, what brings you here Pringle Pin?”

Pinkie had no issue letting his name butchering slide—he probably met a lot of people in his position, and names were hard. “I have come, representing the Princesses of Equestria, hoping to establish contact with the new ruler of the Candy Kingdom—you! We have had a rocky relationship in the past with your kingdom, to say the least, and we’re hoping that this new opportunity can open doors for friendship and harmony!”

“And why am I interested in these things?”

“Uh... “ Pinkie scratched her chin. “We could initiate trade with you, exchange gifts of our cultures, help in keeping the animals from eating your settlement—”

“Really?” The King stood up. “You have gifts?”

Pinkie cocked her head to the side. “That wasn’t the main point, but yes! Gifts aplenty! First of all…” She pulled a daisy sandwich out of her mane, specifically avoiding pulling out a cupcake. “A taste of Equestrian cuisine, should you wish it.”

The King jumped to her, swiped the sandwich, and jumped back to the throne, biting into the sandwich. “Mmm. Yes. Quite. They don’t serve fresh food like this around here, it’s all processed sugar. I keep asking for other food but they always complain about ‘the farms being abandoned’ and ‘produce not surviving the trip.’ “ He bit in again. “Quite annoying, I’m sure you understand.”

Pinkie had to force herself to keep the smile. “Yes…” She noticed Marceline had the smuggest expression plastered on her face. They did try to warn me… but I’m sure I can get through to him! “But we can help you with that too! I’m sure the Princesses would be willing to use the power of the earth pony to get the best crops out of the earth!”

“Your kind are farmers?”

“Well, I’m not, I’m a pastry chef, party planner, and ambassador. But most earth ponies are really good with the crops and stuff! I’m sure they’d serve you well, Your Highness.”

“Great! Send several of them over the instant you can!”

Pinkie blinked. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but… what do we get in return?”

The King stared at her blankly.

“I’m sure we’ll send some over, but our nations need a relationship. They flow both ways. Usually this is established over trade—”

“Yes, yes, whatever, talk to Toronto, he handles all trade negotiations, you have my blessing.” The King waved his hand dismissively. He looked about ready to end the conversation—but then there was a glint in his eyes. “Hold on, did you say you were a party planner?”

“Yes, your majesty. That’s my special talent!” She pointed at her flank, grinning.

“Splendid, splendid! You will organize a royal party for tonight!”

“...Okay!” Pinkie’s grin widened. “I’ll throw you a party you’ll never forget! I hope you like Equestrian party materials!”

“Anything would be better than the balls. Ugh. I’ve been in charge for a few weeks and I’m already tired of them. I need something wild that makes full use of my power and all this excess money I’ve got lying around!”

Pinkie pursed her lips. “Hmm… I’ll put all of it to the best possible use.”

“Great!” The King stood up. “Let Toronto know, he’ll give you anything you need. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with a royal bath that’ll last quite some time! How long? Who knows! That’s the beauty of it!” He winked before skipping away through a hall door.

Pinkie sucked in a deep breath and let it out to calm herself. After she was sure the King was out of earshot, she turned to Marceline. “Okay, you’re right, he’s…”

“An incompetent arrogant paranoid numbskull whose ideas are so self-centered he can’t see the kingdom falling apart?” Marceline asked.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly…”

“You’re too nice, that’s why you wouldn’t.” Marceline folded her arms. “Why’d you agree to throw the party?”

“Well, a few reasons. One, I don’t think refusing would have gone over well. Two, I love throwing parties. Three, he needs a friend and this is a good way to get him one. Four… this will give me an opportunity to investigate the palace.”

“Investigate? The King was just late.”

“There’s something else going on here, I’m sure of it. Those pyramids outside aren’t normal and things are falling apart faster than they should.” She scratched her chin, grinning. “We’ve got a mystery on our hooves—and hands—Marcie. My Pinkie Sense is a-tinglin’ and it isn’t because of the party. No, a festival!” She jumped into the air. “I’m going to throw a festival! A festival of Hooves and Hands to bring pony and candy traditions together!”

“And you’re going to throw this massive festival while also investigating a mystery that doesn't exist?”

“Yes!”

“You’re insane.”

“Don’t underestimate the party pony,” Pinkie giggled. “I’ll have this entire hall decorated so quickly it’ll make your head spin. Bring on the presents, the refreshments, the games! I’ll mesh the festivities together. ...Where can we find that Dirt Beer Guy? He seemed like the sort to really know the culture around here!”

“He’s pretty much always at the candy tavern, but…” Marceline stopped herself. “You know what, nevermind. You do this. I want to see how crazy you can really get.”

“Be careful what you wish for!” Pinkie jumped to the banana guards. “You, can you put out an announcement that Ambassador Pinkie Pie is throwing a Festival of Hooves and Hands tonight? Spread the word!”

“Yes, Ambassador!” one of them said, running off quickly.

“Marceline! Can you get as much money out of Toronto as possible for this and then dump half of it into a charity?”

“That’ll be easy,” the Vampire said, baring her fangs.

“Sweet! And I…” She pulled a balloon out of her mane and let it drift to the ceiling. “Am going to learn everything I can about candy parties.” She ran out the throne room doors, ready to grill Dirt Beer Guy.

She stopped at one of the pyramids outside the castle. She traced her hoof across it, getting a twitchy feeling in the back of her neck. It was almost certainly a result of her Pinkie Sense, but she hadn’t felt this particular response before. She didn’t know what it meant.

That didn’t matter—something was afoot. And she was gonna find out what. With investigation and parties. Because that was the way of the Pink Party Pony.

~~~

“Hey, Toronto!”

The brown dog stood perfectly still at the sound of Marceline’s voice.

“Ah, you remember!” She floated in front of the dog and put a sharp finger under his jaw, tilting his head up. “Good. That’ll make this easy. Your good friend Koo has asked to take money out of the treasury so a friend of mine can throw a party.” She leaned in, baring her fangs and coiling her tongue around each sharp tooth in turn. Toronto could only whimper. “How’s about you take out as much money as you possibly can for this, hmm? I would be most…” She leaned in toward his neck. “...grateful.”

“S-s-s-sure,” Toronto stammered. “Ten thousand chips!”

Marceline retracted all her threats and patted Toronto on the head. “Good dog. Now run along. I’m sure Pinkie will invite you to the festival too. You can do your little exploiting thing and I won’t even stop you! Sound nice?”

Toronto was already running to the treasury.

“Heh.” Marceline moved to return to Pinkie—but she noticed something watching her from one of the castle’s many doorways. A small creature in a yellow robe, holding a camera. “What are you lookin—”

The camera’s flash went off, blinding Marceline. When her vision cleared, there was nothing there.

Marceline frowned. ...Nah, Pinkie’s crazy, there’s nothing extra weird going on. That was just some guy looking for a picture of the scary vampire queen. They never have the gall to actually talk to me. Putting a smile back on her face, she drifted away.

Comments

[alfonso_rd_33]

Mmmmm... The Thick plottens...

[FanOfMostEverything]

I have a distaste for parties. It seems as though they’re engineered to make sure you know exactly how much more fun everyone is having than you.

Hmm. This probably says a lot about our mystery narrator.

We have had a rocky relationship in the past with your kingdom, to say the least

Intriguing aside.

"I need something wild that makes full use of my power and all this excess money I’ve got lying around!”
Pinkie pursed her lips. “Hmm… I’ll put all of it to the best possible use.”

What could be more wild than a Surprise Agricultural Relief Party?

“Yes!”
“You’re insane.”

You're only just realizing that?

Yellow pyramids... Oh, it just hit me. This won't end well. The question is just how weird it's going to get. And if Pinkie shakes any hands she really shouldn't.

[raven618]

10374246
Ohh my!