Giggle at the Ghostly
This is really weird.
That’s what Pinkie thinks as she looks at the spear protruding from her stomach.
She’s read about stuff like this. She’s read books where ponies get run through and shot and beheaded and even worse. She read about it for school, once, in a book about the Prench Revolution—that was just before Ma and Pa pulled her out of school to teach her and her sisters themselves. She read about something like this once in one of the books from Twilight’s library.
But feeling it—that’s totally different.
Pinkie feels herself sinking slowly to the ground as the changeling behind her pulls the spear out of her stomach, but she’s not thinking about that. She’s thinking about how weird it is that it doesn’t hurt at all.
There’s a still a battle going on around her, but it’s almost like everything has gone quiet, just for Pinkie. She smiles, faintly. That’s nice. Thanks guys.
Then she hears a scream.
Pinkie turns to the side—as much as she can—and sees Applejack crumple to the ground. Applejack has half a spear and a few arrows lodged in her midsection, and Pinkie instantly feels sorry for her.
Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.
Pinkie tries to get up, to go over and help Applejack, but it’s like her legs don’t want to do it. Suddenly, she can’t move.
Oh yeah? Fine. Be like that, legs. I’ll do it without you.
Instead Pinkie shifts forward and uses her front legs to pull herself over to where Applejack is. Applejack is kneeling, breathing hard, and Pinkie isn’t sure if her friend is more afraid or scared.
“AJ?”
Applejack looks up at her, then down at the ground again. Her breath is coming is short little gasps, there are tears running down her face, and that’s when Pinkie realizes that her friend is crying.
“AJ, are you okay?”
“Pinkie…”
Pinkie tilts her head. “What?”
“Pinkie, this is it.” Applejack’s voice cracks, and her sobs come thicker and faster. “Pinkie… I think we’re gonna die.”
Then there’s no stopping anything. In the weird silence Applejack is weeping in earnest, talking so fast Pinkie almost can’t hear her.
“I—I never got t’say goodbye to Apple Bloom,” she cries. “Or Mac—or Winona—or Grannie Smith, or any o’ the others—goshdarnit, Pinkie, I—I don’t wanna die!” She stamps her hoof against the cobblestones and breaks into a fresh wave of tears.
“Aw, don’t cry, AJ,” Pinkie says, softly. Everything is so quiet, even though she can see waves of changelings fighting against each of her now-isolated friends. This would be perfect for a song… “Remember? Remember what I always say?”
Then she begins singing, still as softly as possible.
“Pinkie, you gotta stand up tall, learn to face your fears… you’ll see, that they can’t hurt you, just laugh to make them disappear…”
Applejack sniffles, then joins her and begins singing.
“So giggle at the ghostly, guffaw at the grossly—crack up at the creepy—whoop it up with the weepy—”
And then they’re both singing. Two voices are lifting over the battlefield that is Canterlot with a softly intoned song.
“Giggle at the ghostly, guffaw at the grossly, crack up at the creepy, whoop it up with weepy.”
As they sing, Pinkie begins to feel her eyelids growing heavier. That’s weird… I didn’t feel sleepy at all a few minutes ago…
“Chortle at the kooky, snortle at the spooky…”
Applejack grins slightly, and then launches into the monologue that used to be Pinkie’s.
And Pinkie is glad, because suddenly, she doesn’t think she has the energy to sing it.
“And tell that big dumb scary face t’take a hike and leave y’alone and if he thinks he can scare ya then he’s got another thing coming and the very idea o’ such a thing just makes y’wanna... ha ha ha ha ha...”
And then Pinkie chimes in for the very last note.
“Laaaaaaaaaauuuugh…”
Then they really do laugh. And it’s soft and happy and really reassuring. For both of them.
Applejack smiles at Pinkie, and Pinkie smiles back.
“Th…thanks, Pinkie,” Applejack says. “Thanks for—reminding me.”
“Anytime, AJ.”
Pinkie realizes, then, that it’s getting sort of hard to breathe, and the cobblestone under her hooves are darker than she remembers. She sucks in one deep breath, then another, then another. Come on, Pinkie. You can do this. For the Cakes.
Applejack does the same thing, and Pinkie wonders why everything she can see looks slower and quieter and darker.
After all, the gaping, bloody hole in her stomach still doesn’t hurt.
Applejack takes in a shallow, shuddery breath. Then she starts singing again, in a voice that’s thinner and more… stretched than it was before.
“Pinkie, y’gotta stand up tall, learn to face your fears—you’ll see that they can’t hurt you, just laugh t’make them disappear—”
Pinkie tries to keep the song going—she made it up, after all—but finds that she can’t. Applejack’s breath is coming even shorter, and she’s gasping now.
“Pinkie—” Applejack shuts her eyes and winces. “It hurts, Pinkie. I-It—it hurts a lot.”
Pinkie takes a deep breath and somehow manages to find her voice again.
“Giggle at the ghostly, guffaw at the grossly, crack up at the creepy—” She can feel everything getting darker, so she hurries along and skips a few lines.
Something tells her Applejack won’t mind.
“And tell that big dumb scary face to take a hike and leave you alone…” Pinkie breathes in deeply again. “And if he thinks he can scare you he’s got another thing coming—and the very idea of such a thing just makes you wanna—ha ha ha ha ha...”
Pinkie takes another deep breath—a final one—and lets out the last word. It’s soft, really soft, and she doesn’t think anyone other than AJ can hear it. But in that moment, AJ is the only one with her, and AJ is the only one that matters.
“Laaaauuugh…”