A Generous Helping
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Squeak. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Squeak.
It was on this day, with not a cloud in the gorgeous Summer sky, that one pony trotted into town with a different season entirely in her mannerisms.
With a Spring in her step, in her bounce and in the gentle warmth that radiated from from her smile. The mare created an aura of 'No sad zone. Please.'
It was on this Summer day that Pinkamena Diane Pie pulled her ludicrously over-packed, creaky old farm-cart down the cobblestones of Ponyville.
Ponyville... Her new home.
Or so she hoped, of course. Just because somepony really, really wanted to belong doesn't automatically mean others want her to, too. She learned that the hard way when she tried to make friends with those bull ants.
Who knew they could be such bull-headed bullies? Well, sure, hindsight's twenty-twenty, but you should always give everypony, and every-non-pony too, the benefit of the doubt.
If only other ponies would feel the same way...
Pinkie faltered, hovering mid bounce with a thoughtful frown.
'No!' Pinkie shook her head, dismissing the bad, mean, grumpy thoughts.The usual spring in her step, defying all laws of conservation of momentum, returned with her chipper smile as she took in the sight of Ponyville.
She was here, finally.
Ponyville was a far way to bounce but it was still the closest town to their little rock farm. There were some trading posts, but Pinkie didn't much care for those tiny little isolated gulp-n-go, anti-social Ooh, big words! rest stops.
To be perfectly fair, though, they didn't much care for her either.
Those ponies just don't know what they really want. Pinkie grumbled internally. What everypony should want is fun, not stuffy table service or not having their mane set on fire by total accident, I swear!
But now, now she was in a proper town, one full of vibrant colours, buildings, neighbours.
A town full of other ponies she could laugh and play and talk to!
I'm sorry, Inky, I love you all so, so much, I promise, and I'll remember to write! I think we all just know that, deep, deep, deep, not-really-all-that-deep-it's-pretty-flower-bloomin'-obvious that the old family farm just wasn't the place for me.
Pinkie paused, the horrendous pile of knick-knacks, toys and miscellaneous bric-a-brac lurching dangerously behind her.
Man, wouldn't it be pretty super embarrassing if none of this works out? I mean... Would they take me back? Of course they'd take me back! All I did was walk out on hundreds of years of stuffy old family tradition for reasons even I don't understand!
Of course, being totally oblivious to the irony of her own internal monologue, Pinkie's continued to bound along, also totally oblivious to the lurching Everest of paraphanalia behind her.
Look, this cart is loaded, okay? The groaning wood is cracking under the pressure and this was a cart designed to move friggin' boulders. There is no possible way you could have lifted, hoisted or even fit this pile of... This pile of Pink into even a barn door.
Somehow Pinkie carried it as effortlessly as if it had been made of marshmallow. Again, in all due fairness, a sizable portion of it probably was.
Pinkie's only concern was that her rock collection hadn't squished anything. Of course, that wouldn't be an issue!
See, if you put the heavy stuff at the top and the light stuff at the bottom, the light stuff cushions the heavy stuff! It's not pocket-science! Seriously, how do ponies sew the pants around the pocket? Maybe they looped it, so tha- Ooh! Look! A dress-makery shop! Maybe I could ask them!
Bored. So bored. So dreadfully, horribly bored.
*Snip*
Bored-bored-boredboredboredBOREDboredbored
*Ka-Snip
Rarity pouted, pointedly snipping at some cheap fabric she kept around to cut when she had nothing to do. It made her look busy. It was dreadfully bad business for ponies to think you had nothing to do. It made it look like no-pony wanted your business.
No matter how true that was.
Just because this town of horseapple-sucking nudists didn't have any sense of fashion or modesty...
And boredom does put such a damper on the creative process. It's hard to feel inspired when all I really want to do right now is curl up in bed with a glass of Berry Punches finest and read a trashy novel. Maybe two glasses of wine. Would three be overdoing it?
*Ka-snip-ker-snick-ka-snip
At this rate I might even resort to eating a box of- she shuddered, hayfries, just to have something to do.
Ding-a-ling!
Oh, thank goodness, a customer! Finally, a sophisticated pony with whom I can discuss an order with, create for, get paid by. That last one's not nearly as important, of course, as helping a client be their most fabulous... But as much as I enjoy this thin, gorgeous figure eating is sort of nice, too.
The smiling mare trotted slowly, doing her best to suppress her eagerness, calmly entering the store's front room and display area.
With a wide, genuine smile she greeted her new, excited customer.
"Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is unique, chic, and magnifique!"
Pinkie, meanwhile, had stopped listening past the word 'Carousel'.
"Did you say... Carousel?"
"Why, yes, Carousel Boutique is-"
Pinkie immediately jumped onto one of the dress horses, sailing in a graceful arc into a not-at-all graceful mounted position on the dummy, which wobbled slightly in protest.
"Where do I put the money, then?" Pinkie looked around, genuinely confused.
"Well, I'm flattered and all, dear, but that dress-horse is not for sale. If you wish to buy a dress-"
"Of course! You're a dress-maker-pony, aren't you?" Pinkie immediately forgot the giant carousel for a moment. She was on a mission.
"Err... Tailor. I'm a tailor, yes." Rarity stammered, a little nervously. As much as she was wasn't bored at all anymore, this was not a client who she could exactly relate to. Thank Celestia for that, at least.
"Then you must make pockets." Pinkie nodded sagely. "Teach me the mysteries of your craft!"
"Err... Pockets? Don't you need, well, pants for that first? Or a shirt? Or, well, any clothes at all, dear?"
Pinkie bobbed her head in agreement before diving into her tower of possessions. This was, startlingly, the first time Rarity had noticed that the cart was in her store. Rarity wasn't sure which worried her more: The fact that she hadn't noticed it, or the thought that this strange mare had managed to fit it through the front door.
The mound rustled precariously, perused by the peculiar pink pony as she spelunked its depths.
"Nope!" She threw out a large mallet. "Not this, either!" She threw out a small anvil. "Why did I even pack this?" She asked. "Here, you can have this, I don't want it!" She carelessly tossed a dusty bottle from the pile at Rarity who snapped out of her reverie just in time to catch it with her magic before it smashed against her horn. It hovered inches away from her eyes.
"Ah! This might help!" Pinkie surfaced at the top of the pile for a few seconds wearing a miners helmet, which she punched with a hoof. This, along with the side effect of making a worryingly hollow 'clonk' sound, turned on the rather powerful torch nestled in the light's brim. She dove back under and her rustling commenced once more, allowing Rarity a brief respite to read the label. She daintily put on her favourite reading glasses for this room.
The lavender ones, of course, they matched the foyers colour scheme the best. The red ones matched the upstairs curtains and the teal ones were for her bubble-baths.
"Hrmm, 'Chateau LeFeet-Wrathschild', now where have I heard of this before?"
Rarity glanced at the cart. On the one hoof she had a feeling that this mare could cause untold amounts of damage if left alone, unoccupied. On the other hoof she just saw a rubber chicken whiz past her head and everything might become clearer when seen through the bottom of a bottle. Rather, a fluted glass, she wasn't a common drunkard.
Whizz-Splat.
Wiping the fake, she hoped, vomit off her face with a hoof Rarity amended her last thought.
She wasn't a common drunkard usually. This was not a common situation.
"Thank you, for the wine, dear, I'll be back in a moment."
"Oh, no worries, I don't like that stuff anyway. Soda pop fizzes, that stuff just burns. I'd much rather some hot-cocoa any day of the week! Even Friday!"
"Hmm, yes, indeed. I'll be back soon."
Rarity trotted into the Boutique's basement to peruse the hard-cider and wine collection. With a little patience and planning anyone could age a ten bit bottle to a hundred bit bottle or more. Turning a cheap bit to opulent luxury was Rarity's specialty, after all. For this she had a rather extensive wine collectors guide.
"Hrm, Chateu LeTour, Flick, Chateu LeEtranger, Flick, Chateu De Torte Flick, ah, here we are. Chateau LeFeet-Wrathschild'" I wonder what the vintage on this is, anyway.
She blew away a smudge of dust from the label of the dark red bottle.
"Why, this bottle is over twenty-two years old! This must be wor- hang on, what's this?" She blew away some more dust.
She had been sorely mistaken. The bottle was not twenty-two years old. It was two hunded and twenty years old. According to the guide this made it worth about one hundred and sixty bits.
"Well, that's a bit underwhelming. It's- why, hang on again, some of the dust from the bottle must have gotten onto the guide." She blew on the guide once more revealing another three digits and a comma.
"One hundred and sixty thousand bits?!
Everything went black and she collapsed on the dusty floor.
Wait!
Just before she succumbed to gravity she oh-so-carefully rested the bottle onto a silk pillow cushion, lest it shatter when she fell.
Okay, ready.
She finally fell to the filthy cellar floor. It speaks to the volume of her overwhelmed state that it didn't even strike her to get her fainting couch.
"Here it is!" Pinkie cried triumphantly, launching a large treasure chest, even by usual treasure chest size standards, skidding across the boutique floor. It's shiny gold trim shined, if it were actually gold. See, it wasn't a pirate chest, those things were expensive. Nah, it was just a pyrite chest, which sounded exactly the same and confused pirates.
Now, as a bedraggled Rarity climbed the stairs back into the foyer, she came across Pinkie digging through the large chest deposited on the floor.
"Err... My wonderful client, may I ask your name, perchance?"
"Pinkamena Diane Pie, but all my friends call me Pinkie! You're my friend, right?"
"I should hope so, that was a very generous gift to have given me just now. You do realize how much it was worth, right?"
Pinkie stuck her tongue out in thought. Thinking wasn't fun, she tried to do it as little as possible.
"Well, considering how old it was, that I couldn't understand the fancy name and the fact that they came from the grapes of Wrathschild," She put on a theatrical flair to her voice, "fabled to have smashed all but three bottles in a drunken rage," She dropped the serious pose and went back to her rummaging, giggling "pfft, I prefer drunken partying but that's just me I guess, I'd say..." Pinkie tapped rythmically with a hoof, the pony equivalent of counting on a hand what with the lack of fingers and all.
It's rumoured that male ponies can count in binary, though.
"About 200,000 bits, I think."
"No, it's worth-" Rarity stared. "Excuse me? You knew how valuable that fine vintage was? Are you sure you still want moi to have it?"
"Yep!"
"Well, surely, I must compensate you for it!"
"I already have some pens, and I don't need your bits either, really!"
"Do you not realize how much you could purchase with that much money, Pinkamena?"
Pinkie stopped rifling through the chest and rose up from its depths to look Rarity dead in the eye, wearing her serious face.
"Just Pinkie, silly, we're friends, right, Rarity?" She went back to smiling innocently, as if the notion of serious Pinkie was totally impossible.
"Of cou- Wait. How did you know my name?"
Pinkie went back to rummaging through the wooden chest absently pointing a hoof to the door. The door bore a sign with Rarity's name on it.
Oh. Hrm, it seems my latest diet includes eating my own words.
"Well, then. Anything you want, anything at all," Rarity took a stiff curtsy, "I am at your service, miss Pinkie."
"Oh, sure! First of all, lighten up! You seem all tense!" Pinkie rummaged in the cart again with a hoof, fishing out a marshmallow. It wasn't squished at all, the small fridge above it had kept it firmly in place.
"Lighten up? Pinkie, it does nothing for a mare of sophistication to not show a little po-" She was cut off as a marshmallow careened across the room, perfectly into her open mouth. She chewed on it appreciatively.
"Second of all! I have a super important question for you!" Pinkie pulled a simple grey dress from the chest and threw it to Rarity who proceeded to not catch it in her mouth, but with her horn instead. With magic of course. Her reflexes seemed to be improving each time she had something lobbed at her face. Somehow, she didn't mind a bit.
In fact, despite Rarity's better judgement, she couldn't help but smile at the bizarre harlequin before her, holding her tatty dress.
"I want you to show me how pockets are made!"
Rarity chuckled. "Of course, Pinkie. Follow me, and I'll show you."
"There! You see, it's simply a square of fabric sewn on three out of four of its edges, neatly fitted into the cloth.
Pinkie nodded, hoof under her chin.
"Of course, it's all so clear now. You sew the pockets in after you've already made the pants!"
Rarity just stared in response. What do you even say to that?
That wasn't rhetorical. Seriously, what do you say?
Well, at least this was a profitable endeavor...Rarity mused. She grudgingly added And, despite her... Quirks, a bit of fun too.
*Gurgggle*
Pinkie looked at Rarity sheepishly.
"Sorry, I haven't had anything to eat since I left the farm... Ooh! Are there any good not-rock farms here? Or pop-rock farms? I'm starving!"
"Well, Sweet-Apple acres is just over yonder," She indicated vaguely with a hoof, "If you really want to eat at a farm as opposed to, say, a cafe?"
"Well, I don't know who Cathy is, so I guess I'll go to that first place!" Pinkie beamed, re-tying the cart to her shoulders.
"Wait! Pinkie! Are you certain you don't want that Chateu LeFeet-Wrathschild back?"
"Nah, you'd appreciate it more, you're into all that fancy stuff I guess. Besides, if it's worth so much and I don't drink it it means I've got something that will make other ponies jealous. Why? It's just a dumb drink. The reason it's so expensive is because somepony would pay that much to have it, and if they can afford to spend that much on a dumb bottle, well, I don't think they'd appreciate it nearly as much as sharing it with a good friend. I mean, it obviously means a lot to you, but you still feel guilty for accepting it. Well, I think you're nice, and you deserve it. To me, it's just a silly little thing that will make ponies feel bad around me for."
"How... Oddly deep and philosophical, Pinkie." Rarity said, a single tear dropping from her eye. Her eyes darted side to side momentarily, misting over slightly. When she was sure no pony could see them she wrapped Pinkie in a big hug.
"Oh, thank you, thank you so much" She whispered weakly into Pinkie's ear.
"Pfft, don't get mushy, I just think you're really generous to me is all, thought I'd return the favour a little!"
And with that Pinkie turned and pulled her cart out the door, the pyrite-chest perched impossibly on the top where Pinkie had thrown it when Rarity wasn't looking.
Rarity turned, not wanting to see how Pinkie could pull that through her feeble doorframe again, and went back to her room upstairs. She pulled out a bolt of purple fabric, some black lace, some ribbon...
The sign on the door flipped from cheery-green Open to authoritatively-red Closed as the sewing machines whirred to life upstairs.
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Silly Rarity.
What are you like?
"Sweetie, I'm tryin' to decide whether to laugh or to break your neck here, humour me fer a moment."
This amuses me so much.
Oh! Hi there?
Like the chapter so far? Good! Chapter 2 should be ready today! It's almost as long, and I hope just as good (If not better) as this one was so far, so the wait shouldn't be long depending on feedback!
Classic Pinkie entrance. Book me for the rest of this.
This is many of the examples of why I LOVE ZE PINKIE
Any person who reads this will appreciate Pinkie more than they already do. I hope that it will get featured so more people can see it. You have my favorite I can't wait to see the rest of this story
Ciao darling
Aww! This story is adorable (-^u^-) I've already read the two chapters you have up and I love it,the characters are all spot on but with a little extra bit of sweet cuteness
Wonderful so far, Pinkie and Rarity were perfect. Looking forward to seeing Pinkie meet AJ.
Hmmm.
Castle of Feet.
Weird name.
200,000 bits of wine doesn't sound like something Pinkie would have permission or good reason to take. Did she just steal all her family's stuff?
1292594 I think she just up and ran away one day taking whatever she could get her hooves on, her family probably either doesn't know or doesn't care that she stole an expensive wine bottle.
You sir, have just made my day. Thank you.
...how am I only reading this just now?
Seriously, I must've had some very selective blindness to have caused me to miss it.
Well worth the read and I've only finished chapter 1
6669347
CrystalWaters,
My thoughts exactly! 😂😂😂😂