• Published 21st Aug 2022
  • 455 Views, 16 Comments

The Mystery of the Old Ponyville Time Capsule - GrangeDisplay



One would think that digging up an old time capsule would be an enriching opportunity to learn about the past, but maybe some things are best left buried away.

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Her Worst Idea Yet

“Pinkie dearie. It's time to wake up.”

Mrs. Cake said sweetly as she stood at the door. There was no response from the darkness, no indication of life or presence. She squinted into the dark of Pinkie’s bedroom, spotting a lump nestled into a cocoon of blankets. She knew that, for one reason or another, Pinkie was intent on not hearing her wake-up call. The baker rolled up her imaginary sleeves and entered the dark.

“Pinkie, I’m coming in.”

Despite hearing her mentor, Pinkie still didn’t move. She laid on her side and hoped that Mrs. Cake might let her sleep in just this once, that she might see Pinkie’s unconscious body and choose to try again tomorrow. Maybe she didn’t know that the pink filly was already awake and listening. That she had heard the mare’s hoofsteps as she approached the room, that she had heard soft warning knocks and the shrill creak of the door’s hinges as she slipped through. That she had heard the sound of Mrs. Cake accidentally stepping on one of the various toys that she had left on the floor and the subsequent curse that the baker had whispered under her breath. With pinpoint accuracy, light siphoned out of the hallway and into Pinkie’s bedroom. She could feel the dull luminescence illuminating her blanket. She clenched her eyes shut and curled in a little tighter, trying to hold onto every last inkling of rest that she could.

She twitched under the blanket as hooves pressed onto her side. She rocked back and forth as Mrs. Cake spoke more firmly. “You have to get up dear.”

The blankets whined as a mess of pink curls erupted from them. Mrs. Cake took the liberty of ruffling them around a bit, eliciting another whine. Pinkie emerged with a pout. “Good morning Mrs. Cake.” she mumbled wearily.

Mrs. Cake smiled warmly at her apprentice. “Good morning, Pinkie. I hope you’re ready to get to baking!” Mrs. Cake swung a hoof encouragingly as she tried to bring some positivity in. She studied Pinkie’s exhausted state and sighed. “You didn’t stay up late last night again, did you?” Mrs. Cake questioned with a mix of concern and disapproval.

“No.” Pinkie lied as if she hadn’t spent the night obsessing over what she had not helped, not fixed, and not built.

The pink filly was no stranger to waking early, growing up on a farm meant rising with the sun and falling with it. Being a baker was much the same, as fresh bread and breakfast were prepared for the morning rush hours before it started. Maybe losing her morning ponyness was the final act of shedding her past life. Not that Pinkie ever wanted to ruminate on her life before Ponyville. She didn’t want to think of rock farms or any of the ponies that worked on them. She rolled out of bed and put on her glasses as Mrs. Cake gave her 15 minutes to get ready. Peeking over the window, she could see a sliver of orange at the bottom of the night’s sky.

Once she exited her bedroom, she took a moment to stare at the door at the end of the hall. She silently bemoaned the fact that something that seemed so promising and excited mere months ago had become so daunting and intimidating. She felt smaller in its presence and wished that she had never asked to take on such a responsibility. The door led to another bedroom, more of an apartment in truth. It had a staircase that led up the spiral of Sugarcube Corner’s cupcake and had its own balcony that overlooked the street. The Cakes had promised Pinkie that she could have that room when she completed her apprenticeship and came of age. An adult room for an adult pony. But as adulthood rapidly approached, Pinkie had begun to feel apprehensive. The room was so big and Pinkie so small. She struggled to imagine how she could possibly fit into it. She wasn’t who she was supposed to be, how could she ever make a place here?

A low and horrible voice croaked from the room, “Are you ready for another day of completely and utterly failing at your job?

Pinkie grimaced, terrified of the potential danger hiding in that room. She laughed it off, deciding she that must be hearing things. She knew that she was tired and that it was a bad idea to think too hard when she was tired. She opted instead to ponder what paint swatches complimented the room best. It was the type of query that was aesthetically challenging, but existentially unchallenging. She decided that she would confer with Rarity a little more on the matter as she made her way downstairs.

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Pinkie gave the trash can one final shake before she closed the dumpster. She looked around the alleyway, ensuring that she was alone, before slumping against a wall and taking a breather. It was around the time that Sugarcube Corner would be at a lull, meaning that the Cakes probably wouldn’t mind Pinkie stepping out for a second. She reached into her mane and pulled out a twinkie. The pink filly reveled in the thrill of unwrapping the forbidden treat, or as Mr. Cake described them, “the unnaturally colored, overprocessed, flavorless insults to actual quality baked goods.”

She unhinged her jaw to chow down when she heard a familiar voice.

“Darling, I have to say that in all my years I have never seen such an asymmetrical coiffure!”

Fluttershy suppressed a giggle as trotted alongside Rarity, which was a sight that was becoming common in Ponyville. After attending Pinkie’s Summer Sun Celebration celebration, Pinkie had noticed Fluttershy accompanying Rarity around town more often. She was happy to see it, she loved it when new ponies came to town and Fluttershy was no exception. The pegasus’ quiet disposition reminded Pinkie of her baby sister. But unlike Pinkie’s sister, Fluttershy had yet to betray her, Fluttershy liked her parties, and Fluttershy actually believed in her. Or at least Pinkie hoped that she did.

Yeah right! If your own family doesn’t believe in you then nopony will!” A dark voice uttered from nowhere in particular.

Pinkie looked around in shock and hurt, but nopony was around. She looked at the ground and spotted a lone pebble.

“Did you say that Mr. Pebble?” Pinkie muttered as she shot the stone a death glare.

Mr. Pebble didn’t respond, nopony did.

The silence in the alleyway was suffocating and it wasn’t because of all the rotting trash in the dumpster. Pinkie stuffed her uneaten twinkie back into her mane and put her game face on. The energy changed immediately as she stepped onto the main streets of Ponyville. A million eyes fell on her at once, as ponies waved and smiled. Seeing their joy tugged at her heart, just as it always had. Even if, recently, her smile felt a little less genuine than it should. Pinkie shook her head with a hoof, trying to dislodge whatever was making her feel so upside down.

She absentmindedly waved to Roseluck as she spotted Rarity up the street. The party pony took a deep breath and ran around in a circle, gaining speed with each loop. She launched herself forward and hurtled toward her friend.

“Rarity! Fluttershy!” Pinkie bellowed as she came to an abrupt stop beside the other fillies.

The pair greeted her less enthusiastically, but they smiled nonetheless. Pinkie smiled back as convincingly as she could. She fiddled with her hooves and studied the ground. She knew that there was no reason to be scared of Rarity because Rarity was one of her best friends. One of the first friends that she ever made. They had even stayed friends when Rarity went away to pursue her studies, and now they’re even better friends than ever. She looked at her friend and found her confidence.

“Rarity! I was thinking about what colors I ought to paint my future room and I think you were right about not using double bubble neon pink. It’s a great color but it does really attack the ole eyeballs. Like BLAGH.” Pinkie hopped up on her hind legs to emphasize her point and waved her arms, Fluttershy let out an “eep” as she moved back.

“You were right about using a more not-so-nice and vibrant color! So, I was thinking that you could offer your expertise on the matter. Maybe we could hang out this week and pick out new colors.” Pinkie asked as she batted her eyelashes and cupped her hooves.

Rarity shook her head with an apologetic smile. “Well Pinkie darling I would love to help, but I fear that work has been keeping me quite busy.”

Pinkie’s ears flattened against her head as she nodded in understanding. Rarity recognized the dejection in her friend’s disposition and offered advice.

“Pinkie, I’m happy to see that you recognize that neutral tones are the way to go. Pick out some swatches first and maybe I can make the time to take a look.” She offered Pinkie a comforting smile as she patted her shoulder.

Pinkie’s mood seemed to improve significantly as she hopped about. “Sure thing Rarity!” she chirped.

Seeing Pinkie happy again eased Rarity’s mind as she signaled to Fluttershy that they could keep moving. Pinkie hopped in place and waved wildly as she watched them go. It was only when they were out of sight that the party pony abruptly stopped. Her smile dissolved as she pawed at the ground.

“She’s never busy when it comes to hanging out with Fluttershy.” Pinkie muttered to herself.

Well, that’s because she is not completely embarrassed to be seen with Fluttershy!” The voice taunted from afar.

Pinkie whipped her head around to see the meanie that was always mocking her. Her eye twitched as she studied every face on every pony in the area, but none of those faces matched that voice. She hung her head as she joined the stream of ponies walking in the opposite direction.

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“Hiya Applejack! How ya doing today.” Pinkie said with as much positivity that she could muster.

Her only response was a groan as Applejack leaned onto her stall and buried her head in her hooves. Pinkie smiled awkwardly and put some more pep into her words.

“I hope that was a happy ‘argh’ instead of a saddy ‘argh’ Applejack. It’s such a nice day today and it’s always nice to see you.” There was a small burst of confetti as Pinkie lifted her arms up in excitement.

Applejack rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. She sighed and wiped her disheveled mane out of her eyes. “You know Pinkie, I’m real busy today. Why don’t ya go on head back to Sugarcube Corner. I don’t need you gettin’ in the way of ponies buyin’ their apples.”

A slight breeze went through the market as ponies bought and sold their goods. It was a normally busy day and most stalls had lines of ponies waiting to purchase. Pinkie looked around, fearing that she might have missed somepony waiting in Applejack’s line, but nopony was around.

The pink filly looked at Applejack in concern. “But there’s nopony here, Applejack.”

Applejack looked at Pinkie apathetically with dim eyes. “It don’t matter, Pinkie. Somepony ought to show up soon and I don’t want you hangin’ around here when they do. I can’t do my job if you’re bouncin’ around and botherin’ me.”

Pinkie pouted at her friend and looked at all four of her stationary hooves. “But I’m not bouncing around Applejack.” she whimpered.

Orange hooves tapped the Apple family’s stall as Applejack grasped at her rapidly depleting patience. She rubbed her aching temple.

“Pinkie. Go. Away.” she commanded sternly.

Pinkie looked at her best friend with hurt. She laughed breathlessly and turned away. “Okay Applejack, see you later.” Pinkie mumbled.

She retreated from her friend with a half-hearted skip. Her surroundings blurred as she made her way through town. She tried to keep her head up despite the heaviness of her heart. Her ears perked as an unknown voice sounded from everywhere.

She was right to send you away. Nopony wants to be around you, not for real. You’re so pathetic! You call Applejack your ‘best friend’ but you can’t even make her smile. She hates you! And so does everypony else! And if they don’t, then they pity you.” The voice disparaged, prompting Pinkie to move faster.

The party pony bumped a hoof against her head as she tried to shake whatever mean bug had crawled into her ears. She gingerly opened the backdoor of Sugarcube Corner and entered the kitchen, taking in a deep inhale of the sweet smells as she slumped against the door.

Mr. Cake paused his stirring to acknowledge her. “Good, you’re back Pinkie! You should go ahead and start setting up little Tulip’s party. The colts and fillies should be arriving soon.”

Pinkie’s head rested against the door wearily as she tried to steady her breathing.

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Pinkie smiled in satisfaction as she expertly placed the final present on the gift table. She stepped back and corrected her glasses as she studied the table to ensure that it had the maximum party fun potential. The positioning of the presents framed the birthday cake perfectly. Pinkie knew that the scene would be positively perfect once all the foals were seated and the candles were lit. She put a hoof to her ear and listened to the cheerful laughter of foals and the subdued conversation of adults. She was tweaking the position of one of the gifts when she heard the little voice behind her.

“Um… Ms. Pinkie?”

Pinkie turned to find Tulip and several other foals behind her. At first, she giggled at the idea of ponies not much younger than her referring to her as a ‘Ms.’, but then she saw their frowns. She studied them with concern and fear.

Wow, you can’t even throw a party for babies right.” The voice called from behind the gift table.

“What’s wrong Tulip? Are you not having fun?” Pinkie questioned, trying not to sound too disappointed.

The voice whispered into Pinkie’s ear. “Of course they’re not having fun at this stupid party.”

Pinkie’s breath hitched as she looked at the foals expectedly. She was relieved to see Tulip shake her head fervidly. “No, no Ms. Pinkie! We’re having lots of fun…but…”

A colt stepped forward and held up a mangled contraption made of scraps of various machinery. A bottle of bubbles hung limply from the device and dripped onto the floor.

Tulip looked at her. “We broke the bubble blower that you gave us. We were really careful with it, honest! But we got super excited and knocked it over. I’m sorry.”

A chorus of little apologies was spoken as Pinkie relaxed. She blew a raspberry as she ruffled Tulip’s mane, then picked up the broken bubble blower. “Oh, this old thing? Nothing to worry about kids! I’ll have it fixed up in no time. Easy build, easy fix.”

Tulip looked up in wonderment. She pointed at the device. “You built that Ms. Pinkie?”

Pinkie nodded as she analyzed the blower in her hooves. “Yeppers. I pieced it together from an old pasta maker and a blender!”

A voice chuckled from behind her. “Of course she doesn’t believe that an idiot like you could make anything worthwhile!

The foals watched curiously as Pinkie turned around suddenly. The twitches of her ears were the only movements that she made. Even the foals knew that it was unusual to see the pink pony so still. They might have gone to get help from an adult had Pinkie not turned around with a broad grin.

She reached into her mane and pulled out a blindfold triumphantly.

“Who wants to play pin the tail on the pony!”

She beamed as all the foals threw up their hooves in joy. She trailed behind them but was briefly distracted by the soaring rainbow outside the window. Ponyville had been seeing an increase in rainbows over the past few weeks and Pinkie knew who was behind it. She had only met Rainbow Dash a few times, but she admired the pegasus’ aptitude for flying and her magnificent mane. It reminded her of the greatest day of her life, the day when her future looked so clear. Pinkie felt so uninhibited on that day when she was too young to understand that dreams are different from actions.

She knew that it wasn’t a good idea to imagine herself with a nice pair of wings, but the more that her days dragged on, the more she saw herself soaring above the clouds. Above the voices, the pity, and the failures. In flight, she would know what it meant to be truly free.

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Mrs. Cake spooned yams onto her plate, then passed the bowl to her husband. She grabbed for the salad bowl and was surprised to see that so much of it was left. She looked up at Pinkie to make sure that she had gotten her good share of veggies for dinner before letting out a sigh.

Pinkie sat in her usual seat, but she wasn’t eating. Her plate had been pushed off to the side to make space for her bubble blower. She held a screwdriver in her muzzle and tilted her head in thought. Mrs. Cake cleared her throat loudly, only managing to garner her husband's attention but not her apprentices. She opted just to be direct.

“Pinkie! Dearie, Put that away it's time for dinner.”

The apprentice spit out her screwdriver and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Mrs. Cake. I was just trying to fix my bubble blower!” She put a thoughtful hoof to her chin and continued, “You know, I’ve got much better tools in the basement! If you just let me go do-”

“Pinkie, we’ve already talked about this. You are not to go down in that basement for any reason.” Mrs. Cake scolded. She pulled over Pinkie’s plate and began putting food onto it.

“But it’s been weeks since I last went down, Mrs. Cake. I said I was really really super-duper sorry! I’ll just go down and fix this one little bittle tiny winy thing.” Pinkie whined.

Both of the older ponies shook their heads. Mr. Cake took a sip from his glass before picking up from where his wife left off.

“Pinkie, last time you went down there you caused an earthquake that the entirety of Ponyville felt. There was so much smoke coming out of there that we had to close up the bakery for a whole day!”

Pinkie could see her glasses fogging up. She blinked a few times and swallowed. “I know and I went around and apologized to everypony for it! It’ll never happen again.”

Mr. Cake placed a hoof on the table. “But what if it does! You’re lucky to have just burned off your eyebrows, but what about next time? We were fine about letting you down there when we thought you were building little trinkets, we had no idea that you were trying to build an entire cannon!”

Pinkie rubbed her hooves together anxiously. “But it’s not a cannon. It's a party cannon! I just have to work out some of th-”

“Pinkie, enough!” Mrs. Cake spoke with utter authority, prompting Pinkie to crumple in her seat. “We have spoken about this many times. Carrot and I have told you our decision and it is final.”

Pinkie’s plate was hoofed back to her as Pinkie lifted up her glasses to wipe her eyes with a napkin. Mrs. Cake’s expression softened as she watched her apprentice sniffle and put her contraption under her chair.

“I don’t like scolding you really. Neither of us does, but you need to listen dearie. How about you devote your time to something else? I noticed that you haven’t opened any of the letters that your family sent you. They’re really worried about you honey. And you have more recipes to study and perfect. You want to finish your apprenticeship and become a full-time baker, don’t you?”

She only received a half-hearted nod as Pinkie stared pitifully down at her plate. The pink filly could barely hear her mentor over the sound of voices ridiculing her outside.

Like a moron like you could ever finish that stupid cannon!

You couldn’t even build a bubble blower that was sturdy enough to be played with.

Why are you so scared to open those letters, Pinkie? Afraid your parents probably and rightfully disowned you! Angry that they’re probably happy that you’re finally gone for good! Sad that they were completely right to have zero faith in you!

Honestly, I wouldn’t believe you either.

Sweet Celestia, what a disappointment.

You’re lucky that the Cakes feel obligated to care for you, but for how much longer.

“I wouldn’t even bother entertaining the idea of becoming a baker, a fool like you has no place doing an actual job that requires functioning brain cells.

Perhaps you should go back down into that basement and have another try at building the cannon. Maybe this explosion will finally free everypony of you and your embarrassing excuses for parties.

The Cakes were startled when Pinkie suddenly slammed her forehooves on the table and stood up. “Thank you for dinner, I’m going to bed now!” There were tears in her eyes as she threw the bubble blower in the trash and booked it upstairs.

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Pinkie had locked herself in her room. She had spent an hour or two in a fetal position, covering her ears to block out all the noise. The Cakes said sweet things to her, they promised that they were here for her, that they loved her. But the voices disagreed. Pinkie didn’t want to listen to any of them. She begged the Cakes and the voices to go away. The Cakes departed with promises of talking in the morning, but the voices persisted in their harassment until Pinkie finally fell into a fitful sleep.

As she slept, she listened to the low guttural call of the room at the end of the hallway. She tossed and turned as she thought of all the things she couldn’t do, of all the ways that she had failed. The room continued to moan, creak, and groan to her. When she finally managed to exit her room in the middle of the night she stared into the darkness and begged it to leave her alone. The door to her future bedroom swung open and closed as it began to speak to her.

I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.” The room stated simply.

Pinkie balled up her hooves and tried to remember courage. “I don't want to talk to you, you big meanie! You’re the one that’s been saying all those horrible things to me!”

The door’s hinges creaked as the room sneered at Pinkie. “I wanted nothing more than to tell you the truth.

“There’s nothing truthful about what you said! You said that friends are embarrassed by me and that they hate me! You said that I can never be a baker, that I fail at everything, and… that I shouldn’t even be here anymore.” Pinkie’s voice lost some of its vigor near the end of her statement, but she still stood as defiantly as she could against her foe.

But Pinkie, I was being truthful. As an adult pony room, I know the importance of recognizing the truth, of understanding reality. You don’t live in the real world; you live in a foalish fantasy land where you’re somepony worth caring for.

“B-but…I…That’s not true!” Pinkie cried out as she held her chest.

But it is true. We both know it. Rarity doesn’t want to hang out with you because you humiliate her just by being yourself. Applejack despises you, and it's not just because she’s sad or angry. She sees the truth. She knows that you are a lunatic that will only distract her. Had the Cakes taken in an apprentice with a baking cutiemark, then they would probably have a full-time baker by now. Instead, they have you and you barely even try anymore.

Pinkie choked out a sob as she fiercely rubbed her eyes. “I would try harder and do better if you weren’t always saying such cruel things.”

It wouldn’t hurt so bad if it weren’t true. You have to face reality Pinkie. You can’t have a job if you don’t work. Where will you go then? There is nopony left, or are you planning to rely on foals like Tulip that aren’t old enough to realize what a loser you are forever?” The room jeered at her.

Pinkie quivered as the cool chill of the hallway brushed against her fur. “N-no and I’m…I’m not alone.”

What, are you still considering your family? Your mother and father tried to tell you the truth at that place you used to call home, but you exploded at them. You disrespected your parents, shouted at your older sisters, and made sweet Marble cry. You don’t make any pony happy. You can’t even make yourself happy.

The words stung as Pinkie remembered the last time that she was home. “I didn’t mean to do that! I don’t know…I… don’t know why I got so angry and said those stupid things!”

You said it because everything that you say is stupid. Ponies just tolerate you. You don’t contribute anything. You don’t add anything. You’re not anything. You’re nothing.

Sobs echoed throughout the hallway as Pinkie struggled to continue standing. She curled into herself as the room laughed at her. The entire world swirled around her in a flurry. The floor seemed to sink underneath her as she descended further into the carpet.

You couldn’t make it there. You can’t make it here. What more is there for you Pinkie? Why even bother trying? Only you could make it all go away.

She could hear ripping as the darkness consumed her.

The bed creaked underneath her as Pinkie awoke with a start. It seemed that she had fallen asleep on top of her comforter while weeping. She wiped her nose and looked around her room. She saw various noise makers and streamers strewn across her floor. A pile of letters lay on her dresser, carefully written, yet left unread. Taped to her dresser mirror was a recipe card for pavlova. There was a calendar full of events and celebrations sitting on her desk surrounded by markers and glitter. Her nightstand had a book, titled Eruptions, Emissions, and Explosions, with the chapter on cannons dog-eared and heavily annotated. A poster of Auto Maton hung on her wall, the character looked beyond with a mischievous and excited smile.

Pinkie looked at him as he rode upon a board with four propellers on each corner and carried his trusty wrench. She lay on her side and studied the poster. Despite being an earth pony, Auto Maton had managed to soar. The brown and rusting city of Steamquestria was reduced to specks as he flew high above; his triumphant smile was a testimony to his brilliance and perseverance.

Trembling hooves made their way to Pinkie's nightstand, and she picked up Eruptions, Emissions, and Explosions. She shook the book and watched as loose papers dislodged themselves and cascaded onto her bed. She tossed the book to the side and took a cursory look at the crude drawings on each sheet. The primary images drawn were sketches of cannons with the occasional side project. She tried not to reflect too hard on the sheer number of concepts she had drawn despite seeing little to no success or progress. She moved ‘Party Cannon Concept #193’ aside to find what she was looking for, her own concept for a flying machine. The idea was simple; a propeller powered by pedaling. She held up the sketch to Auto Maton’s poster.

“What do you think? Is this no good either?” Pinkie implored.

Auto Maton didn’t move.

“Please. I really need you right now.” Pinkie begged.

Auto Maton blinked a few times to test his mobility. He moved his head to look around before his entire body and world became unstuck. The wind rippled through his silver mane as his propellers whirled him forward. His board left behind a steam trail as he moved as close to Pinkie’s sketch as he could. As if stopped by a window or barrier, Auto Maton was trapped within the confines of his poster, but he still tried to cheer up the sweet filly in front of him.

“That old doom room giving you a tough time again, Pinks?”

“Yeah…but I want you to look at my sketch please.” Pinkie muttered as she brought the sketch closer.

Auto squinted and pressed a hoof to his chin as he studied Pinkie’s idea. He hummed to himself before pulling his board back. “It’s quite different from my flying device here but it looks like a good idea. You just have to be strong enough to power it yourself.”

Pinkie looked down at her long and scrawny adolescent legs. “I might be able to do that, I guess.”

Auto weaved through a series of clouds as he observed Pinkie’s uncharacteristically reticent behavior. “Is that all you wanted to talk about Pinkie? You seem…down. You know you can talk to me, right? I might be a poster, but I’m also your friend.”

Pinkie put down her sketch and sniffed. “I don't know...I just feel... upside down, and I don't know why. Everything was okay, and then it wasn't. And no matter how hard I try to make it okay...it...I-I just can't fix it.”

“Then don’t.” Auto stated it so matter-of-factly that it left Pinkie flabbergasted. He dipped his board down to avoid a formation of geese.

“You heard me Pinkie! Don’t fix it. Well… maybe not all at once. Just find something else to distract you from the old doom room gloom if you're not ready to face it. Build confidence by finding something to focus on. No point in making things worse by not understanding it while trying to fix it.”

Pinkie looked at him in confusion. “Like what?”

“I don’t know Pinkie, anything. Sometimes thinking outside the box helps us get to the center of a problem. There are times when you find the solution for the problem when you’ve stopped trying to solve it.” Auto held out his hooves to gesture to everything.

Pinkie looked around her room for anything. Her eyes fell upon her book again and her body began to convulse and vibrate violently. Auto flew closer to the barrier of the poster and gawked at her. When the shaking stopped, Pinkie’s eyes spun around in her head as she reached around to find her glasses.

She grabbed her head and flinched at the minor headache starting. She smiled as she picked up Eruptions, Emissions, and Explosions and read the random page that the book had opened to. She was mystified by what she saw. “Woah, that sure is a doozy!”

She held up the book for Auto to see and he too was mystified.

“Holy wingnut, Pinkie!”

“I know!” Pinkie smiled a genuine smile for the first time in what felt like ages.

Her mind was beginning to race as she flipped through the chapter. Auto did a couple of spins on his flying machine to celebrate before he had an ingenious thought.

“You know Pinkie, it’s real difficult to get your hoovsies on one of those bad boys. Some ponies would probably pay a hoof and another hoof for one of those.”

“You think so?” Pinkie scratched her head.

“I know so!” Auto cheered.

“But what would I do with all those bits, and who would I sell them to, and where would I build them?”

There was silence as the two pondered Pinkie’s questions. Auto chuckled as a brilliant idea came to him.

“You may not need the bits Pinks, but I’m sure you know some ponies who do.”

Pinkie jumped up with a gasp, raising her hoof enthusiastically. Auto jokingly pointed to her, signaling her to speak.

“I have a crazy idea. Auto… are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Pinkie got close to the poster and studied Auto with a protruding eye.

Auto beamed at her and triumphantly declared, “Of course I’m thinking what you’re thinking Pinkie! I’m a psychological manifestation of your subconscious!”

“I know!” Pinkie squealed as she laid back on her bed. She kicked her hooves about in excitement.

“This is my best idea yet!”