Ch-ch-ch-changes
Sugarcube Corner had been closed for a week when Rainbow Dash received a letter from Pinkie Pie asking her to pay a call upon her. Rainbow Dash, indeed many citizens of Ponyville, had found it perplexing and worrisome that their favorite bakery had shut its doors so suddenly with only a single sign that read “sick” to explain the cause.
The letter was postmarked from the day before and had been simplistic, lacking that overzealous, hyper-fun trademark that Pinkie was known for about the town. The oddly plain envelope was addressed in print and the writing was deliberate, neat, and clean. While most ponies would write in such a formal, easy method, Pinkie Pie’s letters usually consisted of a great deal more glitter, swirling writing that was difficult to read, and usually exploded confetti when it was opened. For Pinkie, the letter was wrong, plain and simple, and led Dash’s thoughts to sour, frightened places of worry and dread. The letter reading only a single sentence of invitation was missing that emotion so keenly felt by Pinkie: excitement Dash looked at the letter and a cold stone grew in her gut. Pinkie’s situation must be dire for her to have written something so bland, direct, and perfunctory.
In fact, since Sugarcube Corner had locked its doors, much of the mirth of Ponyville had been lost, draining away a bit each day as the pink party pony refused to emerge from the bakery. Rainbow wasted no time in spreading her wings and taking flight from her cloud-home, using her athleticism to maximize her speed as she soared through the orange evening sky.
Rainbow Dash landed in front of the bakery a short while later, pausing to catch her breath and gaze at the building. It took her a little longer than it should to regain her regular breathing and gave her plenty of time to take in the building’s designs. It was the same as it had been for years at a cursory glance; the construction replicating that of the delicious confections baked fresh inside on a daily basis with icing trim and bright, tasty colors that pleased the eye as much as the treats that awaited inside pleasured the tongue, but after only a few moments Dash could see the stark difference in the building from only a few days passed and that gelid lump in her stomach seemed to double in size and ache.
Sugarcube Corner was hollow, dead. The lights were off and the darkened windows sat in contrast with the vivacious exterior. Rainbow Dash couldn’t help but be reminded of the eyes of athletes who were training for the Wonderbolts but had long since lost the passion required to achieve victory and given themselves over to defeat.They still competed but it was a farce, a last lingering desire from their bodies, which were far more stubborn than minds, despite their heart having burned out long ago.Sugarcube Corner, without Pinkie Pie, like those athletes, was without its heart.
That look, the hollow, empty stare of a failed champion was haunting and it was a look Rainbow knew well. For years she had competed for the Wonderbolts and each denial was just another reason to train harder, get better, to improve. She remembered seeing that look in her first year of tryouts in some of the older pegasi. At that time she couldn’t recognize the look of lost hope, of defeat that reached deep into that flickering brazier of determination that every athlete fuels with desire and confidence, and snuffed it. She only acknowledged that they were no longer on the incline of their bodily excellence; they were too old and they knew it, was all she could read from their blank, empty expressions. Year after year she saw those ahead of her, once full of spirit and passion, slowly transform into what she detested the most: losers. That was her term for them. Those who had quit on themselves, on their desires, and their dreams.
What stung was that, after recently being turned down for the eighth time, when she looked in the mirror she saw that vacant gaze working through her own features.
Rainbow shook those worrisome thoughts from her head as she marched to the front door, rapping upon it with her sturdy hoof, and waited to be admitted. She frowned and knocked again after the first went unanswered. Again, the door stayed closed and she pressed her hoof to it, frowning when it did not budge. She moved to one of the windows, forcing away those thoughts of emptiness as she approached, and peered inside.
The setting sun caused the unlit building to be all that much darker and Dash squinted her eyes to broach the deep grayness of the dining area. Her ruby eyes could make out shapes, black blobs in the dismal abyss of the room. She knew the bakery by heart and understood what she was looking at even if her eyes didn’t want to form the exact shapes of the furniture. As far as she could tell, nothing seemed out of place, nothing moved, and that was what concerned her most.
She tapped on the glass and formed her forelegs around her mouth as she yelled into the pane of glass, “Pinkie! HEY PINKIE!” She waited again and narrowed her eyes until they were just slices of ruby in a cyan face. Nothing. Not a stir, not a sound, not a thing. Dread filled the pegasus and she began to wonder if Pinkie was able to get out of bed. She fretted about how sick her friend must be if she couldn’t move and then a thought crossed her mind; what if Pinkie Pie had died from her illness? Nobody had seen her in a week and the letter had been sent yesterday. Was it possible that she, using the last of her strength, had written the letter, dragged herself downstairs, and slid the letter under the door for the mailmare to retrieve?
Fear cut Rainbow Dash and she debated breaking the window as she pressed tightly against it to fight the darkness within Sugarcube Corner with her vision. She cursed lightly under her breath because her eyes should be better than this. It seemed like she used to be able to see perfectly under a moonless night’s sky but now, when she needed them, they just refused to cooperate.
Dash stepped back from the window and returned to the door, beating it with her hooves as a little desperation slipped loose from the bridle as she yelled, her voice breaking slightly, “PINKIE! It’s me, Dash! I got your letter!”
Rainbow pressed her ear to the door and was just about to turn and buck the door open when she perceived the light squeaking of someone descending wooden stairs. Her heart, previously in her throat, began it’s steady decline back behind her ribcage and she sighed in relief but feeling a little flustered at being made to wait and wrestle that icy grip of panic. She bit her lip as the door began to jostle and the sounds of unlocking came to her from the other side; the last thing she wanted to do was be angry when Pinkie, her ill friend, opened the door. She put on a big smile, for she was relieved that Pinkie wasn’t in that great big party in the sky, and waited for the door to open.
Her smile faltered and fell as the door swung open and a most miserable Pinkie Pie stood on the other side. Her coat was drab and seemed to almost hang in places. Her mane was unkempt, not unknown for Pinkie but also not in the usual chaotic-yet-works kind of way, and, perhaps worst of all, was that vacant, dead look in her dismal, disastrous expression. It was the worst version of loser Rainbow had ever witnessed. Dash gasped and fell back a step. “Pinkie … what’s … what’s wrong?”
Pinkie looked wretched and her cheeks were wet with fresh tears that still seeped from the aquamarine pools of her eyes. She wore a deep frown and she choked, more than spoke, “Hi, Dashie. I’m … I’m glad you came. Come in.” Her words were hollow and pitiful.
Dash entered the building and her eyes adjusted just enough to make out the general shapes of things. She was still in shock from seeing Pinkie in such poor shape and her mental faculties hadn’t recovered from the blow yet, so she stood dumbfounded and just gave the poor mare a worried look.
“Do I look that bad?” Pinkie asked, her words lacking conviction as if she didn’t really care what the answer was but just trying to fill space with sound.
Rainbow wasn’t sure how to answer her friend but the shock was wearing off and she was thinking clearly again, so she suggested, “Pinkie, maybe you should go to the doctor. You look … pretty rough.”
A weak, feeble smile attempted to grasp to life on Pinkie’s weathered face but died almost instantly and fell away. “I’m not going anywhere, Dashie.”
“Pinkie,” Dash began, “come on. I’ll go with you. You really need help.” Concern was embedded in Dash’s words and she tried to seem stalwart but the back of her mind warned her that Pinkie may be contagious and she wasn’t as young as she used to be.
A joyless, mockery of a laugh dryly coughed out of the pink mare and she answered, “There’s not a doctor who can help me now, Dashie. I just … I just wanted to talk to you one more time.” The inflection she placed on the final words of her sentence sent Rainbow’s mind into a fit and the cold ball in her stomach enveloped her whole body. She couldn’t help but stagger across the finality in Pinkie’s intonation.
“No. We’re getting you to a doctor. Now, come on. We’re leaving now.” Dash reached out and grasped Pinkie in as much an effort to thwart the concerns of Pinkie’s denial and her trepidation of age. An eerie looseness of Pinkie’s skin caused Dash’s stomach to turn and she almost lost her determination. Pinkie sat in an obdurate refusal to leave the bakery and just returned Dash’s concern with another dead smile.
“I’m not sick, Dashie. The party is just over,” she spoke in near monotone.
Relinquishing her grasp on Pinkie, Dash confusedly sat beside her friend in the dark. Pinkie was sounding more and more like a quitter to Rainbow and she felt an ember ignite somewhere deep inside of her. “What do you mean the party is over?”
For a brief moment Pinkie rested her head against her friend’s shoulder before standing up and beginning to climb the stairs. “All parties have to end. Let’s go to my bedroom. I don’t like it down here.” Dash eagerly agreed, hoping to get to the bottom of what troubled her friend.The pair ascended the stairs to the second floor where Pinkie’s bedroom lay.
The room was a mess. Only the bedside lamp was lit and, while it was a vast improvement from the lightless downstairs, it was dim to all areas not within its immediate vicinity. The curtains were drawn and, in an attempt to keep out even the diffused light, Pinkie had strung up one of her thick blankets across the solitary window which all but extinguished the hopes of the waning daylight from entering the room. Different pieces of clothing were laying on the floor, crumpled and disused, as well as much of the arbitrary instruments, gadgets, and party paraphernalia that always seemed to magically appear whenever Pinkie needed them. It was odd to see them so casually thrown about for Rainbow Dash, knowing how much care the pink mare normally took in keeping them clean and functional. The bed was similarly disheveled with pillows laying in erratic patterns and the remaining blankets wound or kicked away into heaps near the bottom.
Pinkie sat solemnly at the edge of the bed, the lamp’s light gave Dash a better view of her. Pinkie had lost weight during the week and much of her flesh hung in shallow folds from her body. Her emaciated state caused Rainbow to gasp again and her eyes stung and watered at the state of her friend. Pinkie’s ice-blue eyes turned towards her and Dash could see deep, thick bags hanging in dark, bluish circles.
She gingerly sat beside Pinkie and felt rather useless. She didn’t understand why Pinkie would want to talk to her; she wasn’t a doctor, smart like Twilight, or as nurturing as Fluttershy. She was a friend, that was all. She and Pinkie had never really had a close relationship; they were friends by association more than interest or camaraderie, but, despite this, they were friends. Pinkie had asked her to come and she had came, wasn’t that proof enough?
Pinkie must have sensed Dash’s unease and decided to confess in a shallow, emotionless tone, “I’m going to kill myself, Rainbow Dash.”
Dash couldn’t believe her ears and began to question the pink mare when Pinkie interrupted her, reiterating her previous statement. “I’m going to kill myself.” The shock was palpable and Rainbow felt completely out of her league now; she was clueless as to what to do or say. She knew she needed to say something inspiring but she was uncertain as to what that could be. She was affirmed that she really didn’t belong here now and she questioned again why Pinkie had chosen her to inform of this terrible solution.
Stumblingly, she replied, “ But … but why? You’re always so happy.”
Pinkie guffawed and looked towards the floor before meeting Dash’s eyes. “Happy, yeah. I haven’t been happy in a long time. I don’t even know what happy means anymore.”
Dash couldn’t understand what she was hearing and suddenly cracked a smile and began to laugh, figuring that Pinkie was having an elaborate prank with her. It was one heck of a set up, but this had to be one of Pinkie’s best jokes ever. “Good one, Pinks. You really had me going there for a minute. Gosh, I can’t believe you’d go this far. I mean, it’s really grim, dark even, but this must be the best one I’ve heard in a while.”
Pinkie looked sour, almost angry at Dash and then faced the floor again, her thick mane dangling in swathes of strangled curls. “Glad you find it so funny. The rest of the town will probably get a real kick out of it too. Maybe I shouldn’t be so private, huh? Go do it right in the middle of town where everyone can see? Maybe hang myself from town hall so everyone can have a good laugh at stupid, old Pinkie Pie?”
Dash, not wanting to believe Pinkie was serious, laughed a little more but with waning enthusiasm. “Yeah, right. That’s a great idea.”
“I … I thought you were different, Rainbow Dash. Maybe you should just leave.” Tears dripped onto the floorboards below Pinkie Pie and Dash realized the seriousness of the situation. Pinkie was a kidder, a pranker, a jokester but she always did them with a wacky sense of taste. She really should have known that Pinkie wouldn’t joke about something so serious as suicide.
Dash felt strings of pain pulling through her whole body as she watched her friend cry. Guilt consumed her as she tried to make amends and aid her ailing friend. She wrapped one leg around Pinkie, who recoiled slightly at the touch and regarded Dash’s sudden affection with a malicious expression, and embraced her softly. “I … I’m sorry, Pinkie. I thought you were joking.” Pinkie’s eyes were accusatory and sparkling wet. “No, I really did. Why do you want …,” she avoided saying it, “ … to do that to yourself. What about all of your friends? Don’t they make you happy?”
Pinkie sighed and sunk into Dash’s warm body, seeming to enjoy the feel of Dash’s coat against her flesh. “Nothing makes me happy anymore. I haven’t been happy in a long time.”
Dash bit the inside of her lip a little and rested her chin on Pinkie’s thick mane. She wasn’t really an affectionate pony but she knew that Pinkie was and hoped the contact would help ease the pink mare. “You always seem so happy. I don’t understand. You’re always hopping, singing songs, and throwing parties. Doesn’t any of that make you feel good?” Dash felt a heat inside of her growing from the pitiable way Pinkie was acting. She was tired of the quitters, the losers. Now here was one of her friends, the happiest one among them all, complaining she was unhappy.
“It’s all a lie, Dash. I do it because it makes others happy and I thought that, maybe, I could find a reason to live if others were happy because of me.” She sighed and pressed into Dash’s chest, moistening it with her fresh tears. She sobbed a couple of times as a wave of sadness broke over her. “I’m tired of feeling miserable. I don’t think I can be happy. It’s like a curse. I just want to break it. I’d rather be asleep than unhappy forever.” Pinkie broke into fresh tears and sobs, rubbing into Dash’s coat and wrapping her with her forelegs.
Dash sighed, hugging her friend tightly and letting her cry. She didn’t know how to process the information that Pinkie was giving her and, while she felt sorry for her, also felt the anger rising. Pinkie had it all. All she had to do was be bubbly, bumble around Ponyville, and blow balloons and everyone loved her. Dash had to harden her body, keep it lean and in shape, and be a champion to garner the attention of everyone. And she knew that ponies were saying that since she hadn’t made it into the Wonderbolts yet, she never would. They were saying that she had passed her prime.
She gritted her teeth and looked away from Pinkie, disgust for the mare building in her. She assuaged the anger just enough by the time Pinkie began to calm down that she could sound soothing again. “You’ve always been unhappy? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, Dashie. I try different things whenever I start feeling this way. It helps for a while but it never lasts. I’ve been this way since I was a filly.”
“What kinds of things?”
Pinkie suddenly went stiff and pulled away, wiping her eyes free of moisture and regarding Dash skeptically for a moment as if trying to make a decision. Dash just watched and felt awkward. “Can I trust you, Dash?”
“Huh?”
“If I tell you a secret, will you keep it? Even after I’m gone?” She looked away and said to herself, “Stupid question, I know you will.”
Dash felt the dampness of her coat and wiped at it with a foreleg absently. “You’re not going to be gone, Pinkie. Stop saying that.” She was getting tired of listening to Pinkie threatening to kill herself and left a sharp edge to her words. She knew that Pinkie wouldn’t have invited her over if she really meant to commit suicide; she would have just done it and left being found to the smell.
Pinkie responded with a frown and furrowed brow. “You don’t think so?”
The challenge was what pushed Dash over the edge and she lost her temper. “No, you’re not! You’re just doing this to get attention. You always want attention, that’s what you do. Are you really going to sit here and tell me you don’t know how to be happy? You?”
Anger flared in Pinkie and she bit her lip for a moment under the accusation Dash was levying at her before growling back at Dash, new tears dripping down her cheeks. “Why are you so mean, Rainbow Dash?”
“Because you are acting like an idiot!” Dash snapped back. “What’s so hard about your life, Pinkie? What hurts you so badly that it makes you sad enough to want to kill yourself? NOTHING! What do you have to do besides play games all day and throw parties for ponies? You can even eat whatever you want all the time and people don’t care!” Dash’s anger was flaring now and she didn’t understand any of this. It was like a weird dream, surrealistic. “So if you’re going to do it, stop whining and just do it already.”
Pinkie’s anger fizzled and she began sobbing again, her forelegs covering her face as great gouts of throat-choking sobs spilled from her. Dash jumped to her hooves. “Why did you even want me to come here? Why me? Don’t you think Fluttershy or Twilight, heck, even Rarity would be better at this than me.”
Looking up, eyes bright red from the intense crying, Pinkie answered her. “I don’t want to die. Nobody really wants to die, Dash. I just don’t know what else to do. I hate being me! I hate being stupid, old Pinkie Pie. I just wish I was someone else.”
Dash, tired of this game completely and still angry, demanded, “Yeah? Who else do you want to be? Who would you be if you could?”
“YOU!” Pinkie glowered at Rainbow Dash and wept angrily. “That’s why I asked you here! If there is anyone who can make me feel better about myself, it’s you! Or at least I thought it was.”
Dash felt like a balloon that had been popped. She had been so filled with anger and rising above the situation that Pinkie’s words were like a needle. They punctured her anger and she fell, deflated and shriveled. She suddenly felt like the worst pony in the world. Here she was being angry and yelling at a pony who had reached out to her for help. She felt ashamed and her whole body felt hot. Embarrassed, she could hardly look at her ailing friend as she took the spot next to the sobbing Pinkie Pie.
Dash let a few tears slip because she knew what was really going on, why she had gotten so angry. She sighed and leaned over the form of her friend, hugging her close. “Pinkie … Pinkie, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Pinkie stammered and hid her face in the crooks of her forelegs. “Just leave me alone.”
Dash laid her head on Pinkie’s jerking body and nuzzled it softly, feeling the gentle warmth that radiated from the pink mare. “I’m sorry, Pinkie. I … why would you want to be me? I’m not smart like Twi or as good as you are. All I am is an athlete, and not even a good one anymore.” Dash sighed as she admitted her own fears.
Pinkie stirred and turned to behold the pegasus with deeply confused eyes. “What? You’re the best flyer in Equestria. Everyone respects you and thinks you are the best. I think you are the best.”
Dash smiled weakly and looked away. “I’m not the best in Equestria. I’m the best in Ponyville, which isn’t saying much. I have been in eight Wonderbolts tryouts and I’ve failed in every one of them. They are the best.”
Pinkie searched Dash’s features questioningly. “Why are you saying that? You did great at the tryouts. You’ll get in next year.”
“That’s what everyone said last year,” Dash admitted, feeling weak and as much a loser as those old ponies with the dead eyes. She grimaced and realized how they must have felt as she continued, “ and the year before that, and the year that. If I was going to make it, I’d have done it by now, Pinkie. I’m too old now. I’ve passed my prime and …” Dash began to cry, finally admitting to herself that her body was changing for the worse was terribly hard for the proud pegasus, “ and I’m just a loser now. If one of us should just give up, it’s me.”
Dash felt the lowest she ever had and great sobs began to rack her tight, strong body. Streams of tears poured from her eyes and she couldn’t look at Pinkie any longer. She felt alone. It was then that Pinkie’s legs wrapped around her in a deep, loving hug and she whispered softly into her ear, “You’re not a loser, Rainbow Dash. Maybe you’re not at the peak of your life anymore, but that’s because you tell yourself that you’re not. If you never make the Wonderbolts, you are still a hero to so many ponies. You’re my hero, Rainbow Dash.”
The words did little for the cessation of Dash’s tears but they did regain some of her pride. Dash hugged Pinkie in response and snuggled against her. For a while, the two just hugged one another and cried together, much of their pent up self-hostility pouring out through their tear ducts. It was a while before either of them began talking again but, when they did, it was peaceful and cathartic.
“I’m sure you can make the Wonderbolts still, Dashie,” Pinkie explained as she lay on her back and looked at the ceiling next to her friend and hero.
“Why’s that?” Dash asked, eyes still puffy but feeling much better since getting her emotions out.
“Well, if you really think that time is against you now, wouldn’t that make you train even harder and develop your body better? It stands to reason that while you may not be as good as you could have been three years ago, you could still be better than the others who are relying on their age more than their training.” Pinkie smiled, a real smile, and tilted her head to the side.
Dash thought for a moment and smiled to herself. “You’re right, Pinkie. I’m not too old until I tell myself I am. I may never make the Wonderbolts but flying shouldn’t be only about making that team. It should be about being the best that I can be. If I make them, that’s great, but if I don’t, then I did my best and didn’t give up. You’re not a loser because you don’t win; you’re a loser because you give up.” Dash, happy with herself, gently looked to Pinkie.”What about you? Are you going to give up?”
Pinkie was in quiet consideration for an uncomfortably long time but she ended up turning to look at Dash with a large smile. “No, but I do think it’s time for a change. I have you to thank for that, Dashie. Ever since I moved here I’ve thought you were magnificent. I knew that you would say the right thing to convince me not to just end it all.”
“What kind of change?”
“A big one, I think. One that has been needed for a long time.”
“I’m glad,” Dash answered, happy Pinkie Pie was going to do something to comfort herself and, hopefully, fight her depression. “ If you ever need help, Pinkie, all you have to do is ask, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you are happy.”
Pinkie seemed to relax a little more and she giggled gently. “I was hoping you would say that, Dashie.”
“I never knew you were a fan, Pinkie. I mean, I knew you would come with the others and cheer for me, but I thought you were just being a good friend.”
Pinkie rolled from the bed to her hooves. Let me show you something, Dash. You might think it’s goofy, but I want to show you anyway.” Pinkie was almost dancing on the tips of her hooves in excitement and Dash could only smile at Pinkie’s renewed mirth.
“Ok.” Dash rolled out of the bed as well and began following Pinkie. They went downstairs and turned into the kitchen. Pinkie opened the door leading to the basement and flicked on the lights to show a solid, wooden staircase.
“I’ve never showed this to anyone, Dash, but I know you’re going to like it. I was always a little afraid of being a fanfilly, but since you know, I want to show you” Pinkie giggled and descended the stairs rapidly. Dash followed willfully and could only chuckle at the pink mare.
The basement had walls of stone that were finished and sleek. Boxes of supplies such as flour, liquid butter, and chocolate chips were stacked in the dry, cool room. It was well lit by a few naked bulbs hanging above. Pinkie led Dash through the room to a door near the back. She paused, turning around to smile. “Okay, are you ready?”
“Ready!” Dash exclaimed and found herself more than eager to see what was on the other side.
Pinkie opened the door and walked inside as Dash followed. Inside was a medium-sized square room filled with posters, pictures, newspaper articles, and hundreds of other memorabilia pieces that all shared the likeness of Rainbow Dash. Lining the walls until not a piece of the stone could be seen, with a few shelves full of stuffed likenesses that were frequently sold at major events for fillies and colts, the discarded 2nd place ribbon of one event, and several other tangible pieces of fandom.
Dash was taken aback and could only utter a shocked, “whoa,” for several seconds. She smirked and gave the giddy Pinkie an upraised eyebrow. ‘Wow, Pinkie. You really are a fanfilly,” she chuckled. “I can’t believe you have all of this stuff. It’s pretty rad, a little creepy you keep it down in the basement, but it’s still cool. Do you want an autograph or something?”
Pinkie was opening a canister of some kind of powder. “No, I have something better in mind, Dashie. Something that will make us both very happy.” The lid popped off and Pinkie gathered a hoof-full of the reddish powder.
“What is that, Pinks?” Dash asked as Pinkie drew closer holding the powder before her.
“You’ll see,” Pinkie exclaimed and then sucked in a deep breath and blew the dust from her hoof directly into Rainbow Dash’s face.
Dash jumped and twisted her head as the foul-smelling powder filled her nostrils and dripped down the back of her sinuses. She was surprised and coughed a few times. “Pinkie, why did …”
Suddenly Dash’s legs went numb and her knees buckled, causing her to fall to the cool, stone floor. The rest of her body suddenly lacked their senses as well and she lay on her side completely paralyzed by the powder. She tried to kick but nothing moved except her racing heart and lungs. She could still, barely, move her eyes and mouth but talking was out of the question as the coordination of tongue and lips just could not quite coalesce a sensible word. Fear swept through her body and her strong heart beat as though she were in the toughest race of her life. She could hear Pinkie talking near her but could not see her in the position she had fallen.
“Here, Dashie. Let me help you.” Pinkie turned Dash’s head to face her and she smiled. She kneeled down and hugged her cyan friend for a moment. “I just want you to know that I really am glad that you were willing to do anything to help me. I … I really don’t want to die, Dash, but my life has been a burden for a long time.” Dash groaned in response, trying to articulate words that wouldn’t quite form. “I had planned on slashing my throat open if you were unable to talk me into giving life another chance. For that, I need to thank you. You’ve given me the courage to try again.” The pink mare leaned down and kissed Dash;s soft forehead.
Pinkie sighed and took on an absent expression for a moment as if she were recalling something in the past. She sighed and then broke from her reverie. “I suppose I should explain everything to you.”
Dash could see a pool of drool forming beneath her as she tried to speak. Pinkie sat in the floor before her and stroked Dash’s ear and mane as she began to recant. “Rainbow, I’ve changed many times. Every few years I grow dissatisfied with my life and begin thinking about suicide. I’ve come close a few times but have never done it. I’ve tried, mind you, on one occasion but woke up in the hospital. That was back when I was a writer. You see, when I grow bored and think of ending my existence, I make major life changes. I have been a writer, a mayor, a nurse, a construction pony, and now a party pony.” She took a deep breath and a dismal, sour expression took her features for a moment. “I don’t know why I can’t stay happy whenever I change but I can’t. It’s great at first but then it just … disappears. I really thought being a pony who goofs around all day and throws parties would be fun for a long time, and, in its defense, it has been the longest change I’ve had. Something like seven years now, I believe, but I’ve been miserable for the last two years of it. I just kept hoping that things would get better again. Well, they didn’t, I’m sorry to say and I knew it was time to either give changing one more go or just erase myself from this whole, boring world.”
Rainbow Dash watched the pink mare and noted how poorly she looked. She had, undoubtedly, lost quite a bit of weight because her skin hung loosely in several places. Her ribs were easy to see and the bags beneath her eyes were very blue, almost an unnatural color considering the mare’s coloring.
“So, some time ago I became a fan of yours. That’s legitimate, Dashie. I think you are the most exciting mare in Equestria and I just love to watch you. Like I said, if there is one pony I wish I could be, it’s you.” Pinkie stood up and walked to one of the shelves just out of Dash’s sight while she continued talking. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be renowned as a great athlete. Now, I know that getting into physical shape takes a long time but I’ve grown quite adept at changing everything from my personality to my skills in a short period of time, so I’m not terribly worried about that.”
Rainbow Dash strained to see what Pinkie was doing but her body refused to cooperate in even the slightest form. She lay, brain sending a constant set of signals to her legs to kick, unmoving. Pinkie appeared again before Rainbow Dash and kneeled down before her with a large, sharp looking knife in her mouth. She spoke around the knife. “I’ll have to be quiet for a while, Dashie or else I may make a mistake. I don’t know how long you will last but be grateful that I was a nurse in one of my previous lives where I learned how to make that powder that paralyzes its victims for nearly an hour. Coincidentally, it was the same nurse who helped me after I attempted suicide before. You see, that time it was she who gave me the will to live. The time after that it was Pinkie Pie, the party pony, who made a life of games and parties seem like so much fun. This time, Dashie, it is you. Thanks again for this … what, sixth lease on life?” She giggled as she leaned forward and turned Rainbow Dash away from her.
Dash couldn’t feel the knife slicing through her flesh, just the series of jerking, jarring motions of her vision as Pinkie systematically began working the muscle away from Rainbow Dash’s skin. Dash couldn’t feel a thing but her vision blurred with tears and fear. She could hear the scratching sound of the blade working up and down her back and the pool of spreading crimson beneath. Every now and again she would be pulled away from the pool and leave long, red drag marks.
She was suddenly flipped onto her back and left looking up at the ceiling while Pinkie took a loose piece of what looked like cyan fabric in her mouth and began tugging on it, lifting one of Rainbow’s legs into her field of vision. She watched Pinkie work the knife beneath the fabric and then tug until the fabric slipped up and off of her leg, letting it flop naked of skin to the floor with a wet smack. She realized the awful truth, Pinkie was skinning her alive.
Pinkie breathed hard and sat back for a moment after working the hide from Dash’s forelegs. Skinning was hard work and it had to be precise or else she would ruin everything. She looked into Dash’s eyes, her rainbow mane split up the center and pulled to the sides of her head in what would be a quick and easy slip to free the entire head portion from the meat. She smiled softly as a tear rolled down Dash’s muzzle. “Oh! You are still with us! Listen Dashie, I know this is difficult for you but it’s the only way. I’m glad you’re not hurting. Before I found that powder ponies tended to go through a lot of pain during this. I wouldn’t want that for you; you’ve been such a good friend. I would have killed you first but the secret to skinning is to strip the flesh while the pony is still alive. It helps it remain elastic, especially the face, so when I glue it on it will react in the right ways. I’ve stopped caring so much for this one here.” She indicated herself with a hoof and giggled.”Anyway, back to work.”
Rainbow began to fade during the rest of the procedure and was only dimly aware when the last piece was cut and tugged away. The powder was just beginning to fade and her body felt as if it were being cooked in a skillet. Her vision was blackening around the edges when Pinkie stepped in front of her again holding her own blue coat and rainbow mane before her eyes. “Dash, I hope you find peace in the next world. I’m sure you will be making sonic rainbooms in that great race in the sky.” Pinkie paused and pondered something for a moment. “Darn … I hope I can figure out how to do that.”
Rainbow, in her last moments, watched as Pinkie sat her skin on a shelf and reached behind her own head and into the pink mane, tugging viciously and causing several ripping sounds.
“Come loose already …,” she argued with herself. "Darn laces, come loose!" After a sudden jerk and a loud tearing sound, Pinkie pulled her head and mane off to reveal a blue mare that Rainbow had never seen before. Her mane was shaved down to nearly nothing but what was left was as white as snow. She then yanked at the pink, Pinkie skin until she could step out of it. She was thin and flexible and sported a pair of wings on her back, stretching them out wide and moaning before stepping out of Dash’s vision. “It’s going to be nice to get to use these again. I don’t know what I was thinking when I picked an earth pony.”
The pain had ended and Dash’s world was almost completely black when she watched herself step into view. Her skin was a little loose it seemed, like she had been ill for a lengthy time, and her eyes were icy blue instead of ruby red, but it was her.
“Ta dah! How do I look? I’ve got some work to do but don’t worry, Rainbow Dash. I’m going to make the Wonderbolts next year just for you, I promise. I’ll train hard and make you proud. You are going to have a name that lives on throughout history! After all, this could be the change I’ve sought for so long: the athlete.” Pinkie in Rainbow Dash’s skin stepped out of Dash’s view and she could hear the sloshing of something liquid being spread throughout the room. A moment later, just on the edge of consciousness, Rainbow heard herself call just before the lights went out, “Goodbye Dash, thanks for inspiring me to live again. I promise I’ll make you proud!”
Rainbow Dash stepped out of Sugarcube Corner and smiled. It had been a long time since she had flapped her wings and took to the sky. She waited just a moment for the flames to catch and, satisfied they would engulf all of Sugarcube Corner, took to the air and into her new, happier, life.