To Serve Bronies

by Fuzzy Necromancer

Unconfirmed Party Clown Status

Reiko the human stirred and groaned. Pinkie Pie guiltily stuffed the sheets of evenly-spaced, perfectly-regular writing into her backpack.

Reiko shot upright and tensed up. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. Then the human rubbed her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry, you're awake!" Pinkie Pie said. Maybe she'd been having one of those dreams where she got invited to a grandparent's marriage and kept stepping on everything, or maybe she got into really bad fights with her friends right before going to bed. Then again, maybe it was something even worse. She didn't choose to dwell on this, so instead she handed Reiko a Crème de Cacao muffin. "Muffin?"

Reiko shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and took the muffin anyway. Then she pinched herself.

“Demeter’s nipples, this is still real,” she sighed. A long, weary smile flitted across her face, sharpened by a hint of melancholy. She sniffed the muffin and took a big bite. “Definitely real.”

“Why is a hint of melancholy sharpening the weary smile flitting across your face? It can’t be because you like the muffin, unless you were thinking it was too good to be real, and then you tasted it, and you realized it wasn’t too good to be real, but I don’t think that’s what it’s really about.” Was the little blue mood curdling her happy feelings because the happiness reminded her of one of the neatly-printed stories she read, which even though she liked it turned out to be sad? She didn’t understand why anypony would want to read sad stories, but she supposed that someponies could have fun being sad the way she had fun being scared. Maybe the story about cupcakes was supposed to be scary, although she didn’t know why a clown would write scary stories. She supposed there might be a clown who couldn’t make enough money clowning around to support her family that took up writing penny dreadfuls to make ends meet, or maybe it would make more sense the other way around, a horror writer taking up part-time clowning? Clownery? “Anyway, how does he authenticate his claim to be the world’s greatest birthday clown? I don’t know everything about the world you come from, but that’s gotta be a really hotly contested position in any world with clowns and birthdays. Unless your sun only orbits the planet once every seven-million, seven-hundred and seventy-seven thousand, seven-hundred and seventy-two Equestrian years? Then you would have really long years and not a lot of birthdays. And how did he get promoted to the rank of sergeant if he’s busy writing horror and outcompeting every other clown in his field?”

Reiko the human blinked and stared. “Melancholy? Um...who’s a sergeant writing penny dreadfuls?”
“You know, Sergeant Sprinkles. I still think he may be a bit of a Trixie about his birthday-planning abilities, but he’s certainly got a really steady hand and nice even writing. Twilight Sparkle would be impressed, assuming she didn’t try and eat him, which I think is only a remote possibility because she’s way more interested in books than food. Would you like some goat’s milk to go with that cupcake, or do you still need to recover some electrolytes?”

“Wait, you read Cupcakes? Oh no, Pinkie, no no Luna damn hell I’m so, so sorry!” Without warning, the human flung its arms around her in a boa constrictor-strength surprise hug. “You must be terrified out of your skin or clinically depressed or-“ she stopped. She looked at Pinkie. “You’re not throwing up or sobbing or trembling.” She frowned. “Did you read it?”

“Oh that story?” Pinkie Pie giggled. She’d read a lot of stories, and it wasn’t even up there with the post-lunar Daring Doo spinoffs. It was still better than Twilight’s Re-Cant fanfiction or Snips’s Epic Story of Chaste and Pure Courtly Love. “I was more interested in the one where Derpy Hooves turns out to be the author of the Daring Do books, or the one where Rarity tries out one of Twilight’s spells and starts laying eggs.” She waved a hoof. “So, savory brine or creamy milk?”

Reiko looked at her suspiciously and wrinkled her nose, as if the last few words made her uncomfortable. Then backed up. “Wait, you really read the whole Cupcakes story? The one where you turn into a serial killer?”
Pinkie Pie laughed. Cupcakes indeed! “Yeah, it was pretty funny.”

Reiko looked half shocked, half pleased. “You mean you liked the over-the-top gore?”

Now Pinkie frowned. “No, that’s just icky and weak-cabbage-y. I meant the really silly parts.” Had the so-called Sergeant ever eaten a cupcake? And how could you run a decent birthday party without making cupcakes? Sure, a good cake should be enough for a decent sized party, but some occasions just called for an extra cakey treat, like a dessert-appetizer.
“Please explain,” Reiko said, inching back a little.

“Well, for starters, I would never bake somepony up into cupcakes. The texture would be all wrong, and the meat would totally ruin the flavor, even if you could grind them up small enough that they wouldn’t show. If I had to dispose of gruesomely slaughtered innocents by cooking them up, I’d make them into pot pies or pasties or a big tasty stew. Hay, even a stir-fry would make more sense, although that’s not really baking so maybe it doesn’t count. Anything would be better than obvious cupcakes where you’d feel every little chewy lumpy bit and notice the odd greasy stains leaking out the sides. I bet a fruitcake would be easier to-“ Pinkie slowed down, for once.

The human had slid away from her as she talked. She now had one hand in her pocket, and the other was fumbling with the latch of the unbroken window. (Pinkie had boarded up the other one while Reiko was asleep.)

“Do you not want the muffin? If you’d really prefer cow’s milk I could get that.” She paused and thought really really hard.

“Or maybe I said something that upset you?”

Reiko trembled like something trying very very hard to run away while trying even harder to stay perfectly still. “Not exactly. I’m just a bit surprised.”

“Well, I guess it goes to show that for all his military honors and book sales and fame, he doesn’t know the first thing about baking,” Pinkie said with a dismissive snort. “I suppose everyone’s got their weaknesses.”

“You did Pinkie-Promise not to eat me, or torture me, or force-feed me to somepony else, right?” Reiko said, looking at the boarded-up window. Sweat soaked her brow. The scales on her third arm were flaking a little, and she scratched at them, showing some tender stitches along the side of her not-so-scaly limb.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly,” Pinkie said, nervously. “Those stitches look really nasty. Do you want me to take you to Nurse Blueheart?”

“No, no nurses, no doctors, nowhere somepony else might find out about me,” Reiko said, waving her arms, her face tight. “I can take care of it.”

“Okey-dokey-Loki,” Pinkie Pie said uneasily. A good friend kept promises, but she’d find some way to get her proper medical care if any of those wounds started going bad. Maybe humans didn’t feel pain the same way ponies did, or maybe that mostly-hairless flesh was tougher than it looked.

“You’ve never broken a Pinkie Promise, right?” Reiko said, but the real worry had left her voice. She scooted a little closer.
“Only once,” Pinkie Pie said when Reiko wasn’t looking, as quietly as she could. She felt bad. Really bad. “How about I get you some milk for that muffin, and then some vanilla bars?”

“Sure,” Reiko squealed. She hunched up her legs in front of her, hugged them with one arm, and bit into the muffin. She only winced a little when she jostled some of the fresh scabs and knitting wounds.

Pinkie Pie hurried outside and spotted her old friend Thistlemouth, a chubby goat who loved prickly plants and French theatre, and was thirty-seven days away from her nineteenth birthday. “Hey, I need to get a glass for a customer to go with a crème de cacoa muffin. Mind giving me a hoof?”

Thistlemouth batted her eyelashes. “Anything for you Pinkie.”

Pinkie set down the pail and started milking, while they chatted about Thistlemouth’s kids, the weird magic storms around the everfree forest, and the party she’d thrown to celebrate the war that Equestria didn’t end up having with Gryphonia. She noticed Reiko watching her from the window, face turning pink, left eye twitching, mouth hanging open. She waved and finished up the bucket.

“Say hi to Daisy for me!” Pinkie called over her shoulder. She trotted up the stairs with the bucket in hoof.
Reiko’s legs were crossed. She put her hand on her jaw and gently shut her mouth. A look of mixed nausea and fear quivered across her fat, sweat-soaked face.

“I have the weirdest-“ she bit her lip. “Nevermind. You wouldn’t get it, and just...um, I’m not thirsty anymore.”

Comments

[Terrasora]

I don't understand this story's Like to dislike ratio. I think it's great! I suppose some people simply don't like the premise... I, on the other hand, am really enjoying this fic!

[Vexine]

Huzzah New Chapter!

[Seether00]

2700944

Some people have no sense of humor.

[Red Bomber]

I'm a bit worried for Reiko's experience in the end. I hope it just means things will wear off. Also, hopefully Reiko's new appearance will stop unicorns from trying to eat them.

[Mr AJ]

I half expected Pinkie to ask if humans needed to be milked.

[Everwinter]

2700944 It's a good change of pace in HiE stories. I suppose some people just find the darker aspects disturbing or creepy. Not unlike when you compare the original Grims fairy tales to the Disney versions.

[Fuzzy Necromancer]

2702397
She probably doesn't realize human boobs are mammary glands, given that everyone in her world keeps their nipples at groin level or in their armpits.