Pinkie Pie took a single step inside her bedroom and came to a halt. On the floor was a cardboard box sealed in tape.
The label on top read: “TO MY FAVORITE CANDY MAKER!”
Pinkie sighed and lowered her head. She knew at once what she would find inside and dreaded confirming so.
Sugar.
There was sugar inside that box. A rather special sugar. Sent from her archrival—a candy maker located in Canterlot with a strong panache for all things dangerous and forbidden.
The sugar she found inside had been melted and flattened until it was as smooth as glass. There was only a single piece of the teal candy inside the box—the piece not much larger than a hoof. Timidly, Pinkie stuck out her tongue, licking the smallest of its corners as her pupils shrunk and she crumbled to the floor, foam forming around her lips.
“He found it,” she muttered, as her mind eventually cleared away the severe candy fog that had just rolled in. “The strongest sugar known to ponykind.”
She knew there was only one place in all of Equestria that made such a dangerous treat—a bizarre and unnatural phenomenon at the heart of both a cave and a volcano. For hundreds of years, it had been nothing but a legend; a candy makers’ wistful dream to one day find and sell.
Candy so potent, you could never stop eating it no matter how hard you tried! Pinkie Pie thought to herself, before realizing she was currently licking her hoof, and that the small piece of “legendary” candy had all but been consumed in a matter of seconds.
“This really is good stuff!”
And just like that, she knew she’d need to find some for herself.
Across the road, Pinkie Pie watched as two Earth ponies threw a loose brick through the window of a store before rushing inside.
Twelve seconds later, she heard a shriek.
Eight seconds later, that scream was cut short.
Pinkie Pie shuddered and turned away from the window. Less than six hours ago, the Leaders of Equality had sealed her and the other twenty-nine Earth ponies inside of Testing Town. Already close to half of those inside had been killed.
And to think, it had only been six months ago that unicorns and pegasi became oddly curious as to what made Earth ponies just so special. Their answer? A random thirty pony fight to the death inside a town built specifically for the occasion. To show just what made Earth ponies tick.
“You can do this, Pinkie,” she mumbled out as she traced circles around her room. “Maybe they won’t find you. Maybe they’ll all finish each other off without even noticing you!”
She closed her mouth with a hoof as something exploded near the edge of town, sending bits of brick, hay, and debris soaring into the air. Another bloodcurdling scream followed.
Pinkie sank to the floor to glare at her unopened box.
What’s in the box? she asked herself. Knowing my luck, it’ll be a spoon.
Each participant within Testing Town had been given a box at random. The two ponies Pinkie had glimpsed breaking into the store earlier each held a carving blade and a hammer. The explosion from across town must’ve been caused by some unicorn artifact the Leaders of Equality sometimes allowed inside the games.
It was only when Pinkie Pie heard a trio of hooves from downstairs that she ripped open her box.
The unopened box from Pinkie Pie’s pal, Cheese Sandwich, remained just where it was ever since it’d been delivered to her. Without warning, she had found it in her room, along with a card from who had sent it. Immediately, she pulled out the list Twilight had given her around a year ago.
"THE CHEESE SANDWICH BIRTHDAY PRESENT PRECAUTION LIST”.
“Let’s see here,” Pinkie Pie murmured as she scanned the lengthy scroll. “One—always keep a safe distance away from the present. Two—do not poke or prod the present.” She glanced up for a moment to snicker. “Who does Twilight think I am? Some kind of silly pony that can’t keep their hooves to themselves?”
The last time Pinkie had been sent a birthday present from Cheese Sandwich, she’d opened it without hesitation and soon found herself flying across town. Miraculously, Cheese Sandwich had packed an entire sound system into that tiny gift box of his—complete with volume knobs that went all the way to eleven and speakers that inflated once given enough room.
It even came with a mix-tape. “Cheesy Jams Vol. 4”.
It was a good prank; Pinkie had to admit. In return, she’d sent him another box that could magically read how much the pony trying to open it actually wanted to get in. Wanted to open it unlike anything else? It would become as solid as cement. Couldn’t care less about what was inside? It would fall apart by the faintest of glances.
All this might’ve been due to a useful spell of Twilight’s...
Back in the real world, Pinkie Pie took a weary step toward the mysterious box.
“Open sesame!” she said, as she snapped together the metal tongs held in her hooves.
Pinkie Pie couldn’t care less what about was to be found inside the box on the floor. It was a writing device, plain and simple; an excuse to write about as many genres as the author wanted while still keeping them to a single story.
How did she know all this, you ask?
It was easy. She was Random Pinkie, and therefore knew a lot more than she was supposed to.
She sat on the floor next to the box as she spoke, “Adventure… alternate universe… comedy…”
Besides RANDOM, it appeared as if the differing genres were showing up in alphabetical order—seemingly removing any genres the author didn’t wish to include. Laziness? she thought snidely. Or merely trying to protect their lame reputation?
Honestly, she couldn't care. All she knew was that she'd been trapped inside a story and had to find her way out… and with any luck, taking the rest of the Pinkie Pies out with her.
“Two-forty… two-fifty… two-sixty…”
As the words floated inside her head, she counted. Sometimes they came as narration, sometimes thought, sometimes as a voice that sounded just like her own. Finally, she thought she understood.
Three-hundred words per chapter.
Three-hundred words per genre.
Three-hundred words per Pinkie Pie.
Would a chapter end suddenly if it ran out of words?
Random Pinkie rolled her eyes and stood.
This was going to be a lot more difficult than she thought. If only she had a way to interact with the rest of the Pinkies—perhaps pierce into their chapters and scoop them out.
Above her head she held a hoof, directing it a wall at random. She counted as she pointed until she claimed the fourth one, where only a bare closet stood.
After Pinkie Pie noticed the second Pinkie peering out at her from the closet, she turned away and took a seat by the window. Outside it was as dark as sin.
No sunlight by now could only mean one thing.
Princess Celestia had lost Discord’s latest game and now he’d release his toxins onto Equestria. What they would do to a pony once infected was anyone’s guess, although few thought it'd be good.
So far, Pinkie Pie was merely seeing another copy of herself. That wasn’t so bad, was it? Not unless the Pinkie Pie currently in her closet started to claim that she and not her was the one and only true Pinkie Pie.
A fight for identity would ensue. A fight to the death. And the bitter irony?
It would have all been inside Pinkie Pie’s head—solely due to Discord’s toxins.
It’ll make you go mad! the ponies in town had trumpeted. It’ll make you claw out your eyes!
Perhaps.
Turning away from the window, Pinkie Pie asked in a calming tone, “Are you here to take my place?”
The other Pinkie shook her head and stepped out from the closet. “No, I came to get you out. All of us.”
Pinkie Pie suddenly felt uneasy. “All of us? What do you—”
A hoof was forcefully shoved into her mouth.
“Don’t speak. You’re only eating up words.” The second Pinkie motioned toward the closet. “We’ll leave through here.”
Then she noted the unopened box on the floor.
The first Pinkie filled her in. “A potion sent from Canterlot should things turn out for the worst.”
The Pinkie from the closet could only roll her eyes. “Jeeze, this place really is dark, isn't it?”
The box on the floor was filled with family belongings. Pictures. Clothes. Old toys and game puzzles. Everything that had been bequeathed to Pinkie Pie following the accident on the rock farm—the accident that had taken the lives of both her parents.
She whimpered, spreading out a weathered drawing she’d done in her youth out along the floor; one of her entire family on the farm. Both sun and smiles were out in full force that day.
Her heart felt heavy, as if something large rested atop her chest. It was easy to guess what. A single question. To return to the farm and salvage what remained? Or convince what family members were left to try a hoof at something new?
Both options would involve heartbreak. Both options wouldn’t be easy.
Thankfully, she still had time to decide. Weigh the pros and cons before—
“You’re coming with us,” announced the Pinkie Pie standing behind her.
Standing next to that Pinkie was another one.
A single tear coursed down the first Pinkie Pie’s cheek. “Just my luck. First my parents, now the mirror pool—”
Once again, Random Pinkie shoved her entire hoof into the other Pinkie’s mouth. “You’re eating up words we'll need. I’ll make this quick. You’re trapped in a story. So are we. But not for long.”
Drama Pinkie spat the hoof out. “I really don’t have time for this. Things are so bad around here, you wouldn’t even begin to understand.”
“In my story,” Dark Pinkie told her tiredly, “Discord was about to unleash a terrible toxin onto Equestria that would make everyone go mad and possibly claw out their eyes.”
Drama Pinkie didn’t need long to ponder following that. “Okay, we can go.”
Both Dark Pinkie and Drama Pinkie followed close behind Random Pinkie. Together, they slunk up the short hallway toward the room that'd become the center to all this madness.
“Lucky we were able to exit out a different closet,” Dark Pinkie said.
Random shushed her. “Don’t waste words. Each chapter only has three hundred of them.”
“And what chapter are we on?” asked Drama, before both rain and thunder sounded from outside.
“Whaddaya think?” Random spat, careful to combine a few words together. “This is Horror. So be on the lookout. The writer of this story’s an oddball for all things dark and depressing.”
“You’re sure telling me…” Dark and Drama muttered out together.
The trio of Pinkies crossed a curving set of stairs that disappeared into nothingness. Dark Pinkie stuck her head down. “I can’t see anything beyond the sixth step!”
Random snorted. “That’s because the author hasn’t described anything besides the upstairs so far. Simply put: anything not described, will not exist.”
The door to the room was locked, so Random kicked it in. Once inside, the latest Pinkie Pie scurried into a corner, shielding her face.
“It’s alright! You're safe!” Random told her.
Drama circled the box on the floor. “If this is Horror, does that mean there’ll be a monster inside this box?” She kicked it open, unleashing a cacophony of horrified shrieks into the room.
Random jumped overtop of the box, halting it. “What in Equestria was that!?”
The Pinkie huddled in the corner turned to them—patches of dried blood caked to her fur. “The final screams of all my victims.”
Dark Pinkie slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh! In this story, Pinkie Pie’s the monster!” She paused. “We should probably run.”
“Where’s Drama Pinkie?” asked Random, a few minutes after they’d exited from the closet, snapping it shut the moment Horror Pinkie lunged at them. “Wasn’t she just behind us?”
Dark turned around to stare down the hall. Empty. Dark. A tad spooky, too?
“You mean we have a mystery on our hooves?” she asked.
Random felt like smacking her across the face. “Don’t be ridiculous. That would be the worst mystery ever.”
Another Pinkie fell from the ceiling to smack on the floor. Drama.
She gasped. “Someone took me!”
Random raised a brow. “Horror Pinkie?”
Drama shook her head. “I couldn’t see them, but… it was like they came from above without warning!”
Random exhaled bitterly. “The author. He knows I’m trying to end his story. Now he’s trying to get rid of me.” She barked out a laugh. “Thankfully we all look alike.”
Drama growled. “I could’ve been killed!”
“Don’t be so dramatic. You wouldn’t have been killed. More… erased? Deleted?”
“Girls!” Dark trumpeted, shoving them forward. “I think we'd better move!”
“What? Why?” Random then took notice of what was happening to the hallway—most noticeably the vanishing floorboards and walls.
“What’s happening!?” Drama squeaked.
“The author’s cheating,” Random said, as she shuffled them both along. “He knows this is the ‘Mystery’ chapter, so he’s decided that anything goes. What a bastard.”
The trio of Pinkie’s stormed into the room at the end of the hall, stopping in front of the latest Pinkie Pie. She was seated on the ground with an unopened box in her lap, giggling like a loon.
“What’s in the box?” Random demanded.
“It’s a mystery!” Mystery Pinkie replied, laughing.
“Romance is good, right? Romance is… safe?” Drama Pinkie asked.
This time the group of Pinkie Pies—now four strong—exited from the closet that led directly into Pinkie Pie’s room. Inside was another Pinkie, seating on her bed with a dozen love letters thrown about. What had been in her box.
“No! It’s a mystery!” Mystery Pinkie still held tight to her own unopened box. “Stop!” was as far as she got, before her box was slapped to the floor. What poured out of it was a good thirty pairs of socks. She gasped in joy. “So that’s where all my good socks went!”
As Mystery began putting on socks, Drama crossed the room to the teary eyed Pinkie. “I take it you just got out of a bad relationship?”
Romance Pinkie only nodded.
“Did they break up with you or the other way around?”
It took some time, but eventually she answered. “I broke up with him… but only for my own safety! You wouldn’t believe how clingy he got!”
“Clingy?”
Everyone jolted as the window and adjacent walls were ripped away by a giant wrecking ball. When the rubble eventually settled, they all peered through the gaping hole to find a smiling stallion on the road outside.
“Sorry if I hit you, Pinkie!” he exclaimed. “Just thought you might wanna talk about this whole ‘break up’ thing! Because I don’t wanna!”
Random grimaced. “Now there’s no closet to leave from!”
Romance lifted her head. “But can’t Pinkie Pies exit through any walls they want?”
Random tipped her a wink. “I like the way you think, Romance. Say, if we all get out of this story somehow, I’ll take you out to lunch. My treat.”
Random couldn’t quite grasp what she was seeing. All... one, two, three, four, five! Pinkie Pies lying on the ground, whimpering while they leaked from the eyes.
“What in Tartarus is wrong with you girls?” she asked incredulously. “We’re almost out of here!”
Dark Pinkie looked up at her miserably. “Don’t you feel it? That overwhelming sadness in the air?”
“And look!” Romance Pinkie added, holding up the empty box they’d found on the floor. “Sad Pinkie didn’t get anything in her box! Nothing at all!” She wrapped a hoof around Sad Pinkie—the one with the deflated mane and tail—to pull her in closer.
“And what about Discord’s toxins?” Dark asked with a sniff.
“And my parent’s farm?” Drama then added.
“And my love life?” Romance added last.
Random could only stomp a hoof. “We’re not in those stories anymore! And with any luck, we won’t have to go back there ever again!” She exhaled. “Please, just… stop crying and—”
A haunting voice called out to them.
“Pinkies… come out to play!”
Horror Pinkie—from somewhere down the hall. She must’ve followed them there using the extra closet.
Random stuck her head out the doorway. Leisurely, Horror Pinkie strolled toward her with a smile much too wide.
Random slammed the door on her. “We need to move! Horror Pinkie’s—”
“Great! Just great!” Sad Pinkie interrupted, more tears staining her face. “First, I don’t even get a proper story chapter and now I’m going to be killed by some maniac version of myself? Why does it suck being me so much?”
“We’re running out of words here, so I’ll keep this short!” Random growled. “Pony! Up! Now!” Then, “Please?”
Everything surrounding them was grey. Grey and metal. Boring, too.
“A spaceship?” asked Romance Pinkie, knocking on a large piece of silver machinery. “I can think of about ten places that would make a far better first date location.”
Random sat in the ship's Captain’s chair, staring out the bridge's wide window. All of Equestria was below them—thousands and thousands of feet down. This chapter had a simple premise, no doubt. Seven Pinkie Pies on a spaceship? What’s not to like about that?
She turned to the Pinkie Pie they'd found on board, who was currently munching on an apple. “Any aliens on board we should know about?”
Sci-Fi Pinkie chewed as she spoke. “Besides you lot? Nope. Just a normal, fully-functioning spaceship here. We’re testing the effects of bubblegum under high-pressure and—”
The lights in the room dimmed and flashed red. A loud warning sound erupted.
Sci-Fi Pinkie spat out a wad of apple. “Now what could that be?”
“The author!” Random replied. “He knows we’re not supposed to be here!”
“The oxygen levels!” Sci-Fi banged on a nearby monitor. “They’re dropping too fast! We’ll be out of air in seconds!”
Random gritted her teeth. “Not unless we run out of words first.”
“Wha—” Sci-Fi started.
“Every Pinkie keep their traps shut!” Random said, before she began shouting like an idiot. “Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah stupid spaceship blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I want an apple now blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah—”
The eight Pinkie Pies stared at one another, unsure of what to do next. Slice of Life Pinkie had been found seated at her desk, calculator in hoof. Her unopened box had old receipts and spending accounts within. She’d been doing her taxes.
Slice of Life to the author.
Random Pinkie needed time to think.
The next two genres would be THRILLER and TRAGEDY. And if she knew the author as well as she did, she knew they would be in for some trouble.
“What—” Sad asked, before being shushed.
“No talk. Save words,” Random warned.
Would the genres loop back to ‘A’ once finished? she thought to herself. If so, would we be able to get those remaining Pinkie Pies I wasn’t able to get before? But what good would that do if I can’t even get us out of the story?
“Ah! No! Stop!” Mystery Pinkie collapsed to the floor, hooves on her head. “I can hear him! The author! He’s trying to eat up words! Force us into the next chapter!” She gasped. “He’s describing! And it’s terrible!”
The pink Earth pony with the bushy tail and mane continued to wail on the ground as the other Pinkies could only stand and observe. Meanwhile, a speck of dust descended from the ceiling and the floorboards creaked as if awakening from a deep slumber. Outside, the sun—
“Oh, Celestia no!” Random yelled. “Not the weather!”
—spread from building to building like some warm blanket, giving light to each and every citizen within Ponyville. Across the horizon it bloomed; gorgeous burning reds and yellows. Now let’s describe in extreme detail how the sunflowers reacted to the sun’s rays…
All eight Pinkie Pies placed their backs against the wall. A blinding light from across the room lit up the scene.
“Which one of you is Horror Pinkie?” the voice demanded. “Don’t think I can’t tell!”
Random used a hoof to shield her eyes. “None of us are! She’s still trying to catch up to us.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the Pinkie Pie holding the desk lamp to them said as she crossed the room. On her head was a deerstalker; around her waist was a trench coat. Eyeing up the first Pinkie in the row—Sad—she stuck out her tongue and licked at her mane, smacking her lips. “Okay! Next!”
Once she'd done the same to the rest, she sighed. “Looks like you speak the truth.”
“Duh,” Random replied. “Care to—”
“Elaborate?” Thriller Pinkie finished. “Sure. I’m a detective, see? And I’m on the trail of the Pinkie Pie known as ‘Horror’, see?”
Mystery raised her hoof. “So she sleeps around a lot?”
Thriller ignored her. “She was an experiment gone wrong—cotton candy brought to life in the worst possible way. I was sent a box this morning containing taunting letters from her.”
“Neat!” said Romance. “You guys are like a weird couple.”
“Neat?” Thriller spat back. “What’s ‘neat’ about a trail of dead ponies?”
Random shoved herself between them. “This isn’t important! Have you forgotten what chapter this is? Thriller! Meaning—”
Broken glass showered inward as a figure leapt inside the room. Horror Pinkie.
Random screamed toward the ceiling, “That’s unfair! You didn't even describe the outside yet!”
Thriller Pinkie scowled and began circling their new guest. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
The numerous Pinkie Pies crashed to the floor once outside the closet. The newest Pinkie in the room paid them no mind, choosing to instead doodle inside a book. She was drawing a cake.
“Now what?” Drama asked.
“We press on,” Random said, rising off the floor. “We must be getting close to the end. All these chapters combined, we must be in 4k territory. Our author’s lazy, remember? He’ll be looking to quit soon.”
“Do you mind not talking so loud?” the doodling Pinkie asked. “I’m not in the greatest mood for company right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dark Pinkie questioned. “And why’s that?”
“Because I lost my ability to taste today—a reaction to what was inside that box over there.”
Random turned to it, reading the label taped on top. “It’s from Horror Pinkie. That bitch! How can she do all this? I know what we’re doing is random enough…”
“Because she has the author on her side,” Sad Pinkie clarified, “so she’s able to bend the rules as she—”
“She what?” Random started, before she saw the grinning figure behind Sad.
Like a bag of rocks, Sad Pinkie collapsed to the floor, a knife protruding from her back. Horror Pinkie was instantly tackled to the floor by Thriller Pinkie.
Slice of Life knelt beside Sad’s body, closing her eyes. “Sad’s… dead? But that’s so sad! I don’t want be here anymore! I wanna go back to my boring life! I wanna go back to my calculator and tax returns!"
“Tragic,” Tragedy Pinkie muttered. “Ironic, too.”
Thriller Pinkie grappled Horror into a headlock. “Get out of here! All of you! Escape and start a series of detective novels in my honor!”
Random wasn’t entirely sure what she’d find at the end of the story loop. A new genre she hadn’t thought of? A void of nothingness as far as the eyes could see? Turned out, the story just started over again, right back from the beginning.
“Adventure?” she asked the Pinkie Pie with the saddlebag on her back.
She turned. “Technically, my name is Pinkie Pie, but I guess I’m going on an adventure. Want to come along?”
“What are you looking for?”
“Sugar.”
Random snorted. “Sounds a little lame.”
“What if I told you it was located between a cave and a volcano?”
“Then I’d tell you it wasn’t worth it.”
Behind her, Tragedy Pinkie broke down in tears. “Is no one going to mourn Sad Pinkie?”
“Maybe when we’re out of danger,” was Random’s answer.
“Danger? I live for danger!” Adventure said. “Usually when it’s candy related, I mean.”
In her hoof, Sci-Fi Pinkie held out a strange metallic box that made a ping noise. “We’re safe for the moment. The author’s still concentrating on the last chapter.”
Sci-Fi’s metallic box created an explosion inside Random’s head. “That device thingy you got there. Do you ever recall the author describing it before this chapter?”
Sci-Fi thought on that. “No. I just… sorta thought that it would be cool to have. Something futuristic, you know?”
Random pointed to her. “You know what that means, right? That means we control as much of this story as he does—perhaps more! We just need to figure out how to use that to our advantage.”
A chill crept up her spine at what chapter laid next.
Three large stallions had Alternate Universe Pinkie pressed up against a wall. Each held a weapon of some kind: wooden bat, butcher’s knife, baking whisk. A purple bump was rising on one of their faces—a homerun hit from AU Pinkie’s rolling pin, most likely.
“Hey! Creeps! Why not pick on someone your own size?”
The three stallions whirled, crouching close to the ground.
Before them stood eleven Pinkie Pies—all pissed and ready to throw down.
The center stallion chuckled. “Didn’t you say ‘own size’? All I see are a bunch of tiny pink mares hardly half our height.” He ribbed his cohorts until they laughed along with him.
Once half the Pinkies jumped onto the remaining Pinkies’ backs, doubling their height, their laughter ceased.
“Now that’s just unfair,” the stallion grumbled.
Random—riding atop Adventure—held a hoof out to them. “For Sad Pinkie!”
The confrontation lasted all but three minutes, and at the end of it all, twelve Pinkie Pies stood heavily winded but proud. The three stallions, meanwhile, remained passed out on the floor, drooling from the mouth.
“How can I ever repay you?” AU Pinkie asked Random, wrapping both forelegs around her without warning.
“Just come with us until we find a way out.”
AU nodded. “I’m trapped in a story, aren’t I? That would explain the barebones plot. I mean, a fight to the death to see what makes Earth ponies tick? Blargh! Who comes up with this stuff?”
Drama Pinkie sucked in a breath as on the street outside another six ponies stormed in their direction. “Pinkies? I think the author might be controlling things again.”
Random sighed. “Only one more stop until we get to my chapter. Should be fun. It's Comedy, right?”
It was clear something drastic had happened inside of Comedy Pinkie's chapter. The entire town around her had gone deathly silent; not even a faint clopstep from outside.
The large mountain in the distance—what was once a rich emerald green—had been stained a bright pink.
Toffee had coated that mountain. Sticky. Tough. Angry and growing. Now it was coming this way.
Random Pinkie grabbed hold of Comedy’s shoulder. “What is that?”
Comedy sighed glumly. “The town’s been evacuated; for good reason. Earlier this morning, I’d sent Cheese Sandwich a gift—a box of toffee that would burst all over the place! I asked Twilight for help, but she’d refused. So I ended up stealing some of her potions. It was just supposed to be a prank! A harmless little prank!”
Comedy’s shoulders slumped. “It was like there was a voice inside my head… telling me what to do…”
“The author's,” Random muttered. “So now he's trying to kill us with toffee? I wonder what happened to—”
“I’ve got you now! You pesky little mares!”
Horror Pinkie shuffled out from the closet, dragging Thriller Pinkie behind her, slightly injured, but alive.
Horror Pinkie asked Comedy. “Any last words?”
“What’s in the box?”
Comedy kicked the unopened package sent from Cheese Sandwich into her chest. Once it hit, it ripped open, showering the villainous mare with hundreds upon hundreds of thick banana crème pies. So forceful was the onslaught, that eventually Horror Pinkie was shoved through the doorway and out into the hall.
The last they saw of her was when she tumbled down the half-written stairs, disappearing into nothingness once she’d crossed the sixth step.
Even Random had to admit that'd been random as heck.
Random Pinkie exhaled a sigh of relief as she entered her chapter again, along with the eleven other Pinkies behind her. It took a few slaps to the face, but eventually Thriller Pinkie awoke and made it back to her hooves. Immediately, she scribbled into a notepad.
"For the book series," she clarified.
As happy as the Pinkies all seemed now that the present danger was gone, it was hardly enough. Drama Pinkie—of course—was the one to ruin the momentary joy. “I’m, uh, happy we made it this far, but… what now? The moment we hit three hundred words, we’ll just start the loop anew. Isn’t that how this works?”
Tragedy added her support. “And this time, who’s saying we'll even make it back ? The author might just make each chapter even worse than before!”
The other Pinkies murmured their assent, before Random whistled to gather their attention.
“Listen up! And listen good!” she implored. “We don’t have a lot of words, so I’m not going to talk long. I know that I am Random; that is the chapter heading that I was born from. But in no way does that make any of you less random. We are Pinkie Pie. We are random. Whether sad, dramatic, comedic, or otherwise—we are still random. Meaning that if we work together, we should be able to control this story.”
One of them raised their hoof. “So we won't go into Dark’s chapter next?”
Random shook her head. “No. We'll decide on a new chapter—along with a new genre. One that'll get us out of here."
She held out both forelegs, linking herself to the large circle of identical mares. They began to sing.
The Author seated before the computer spilled a bit of coffee onto his lap. Someone was in his condo. Scratch that. Several someones—exiting from the closet inside his bedroom and marching directly toward his office.
He thought about slamming the door in their faces and locking it, but what good would that do? If they wanted in, they’d get in. Already, he’d written about how one of them had kicked through a door with no problem.
For some reason the Author straightened out his shirt before they stepped inside.
“You!” the leader of the Pinkie Pies said (most likely Random, the Author believed). “You’re in big trouble, mister!”
The Author held up both hands. “This must be a misunderstanding.”
“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Big Shot Author!” said the one with the saddlebag. Adventure, right? “We know what you’ve done! Trying to kill us off as if we didn’t matter in the least. And for what? So you could write about forty random things instead of one?”
“This is getting way too meta,” the Author muttered to himself, feeling a bit like Stephen King in his own Dark Tower series. “Listen… just… just tell me what you want and I’ll do it, okay? Just… please don’t hit me in the face. Not with hooves. You're basically wearing brass knuckles right now.”
Random wrinkled her nose at him, eventually turning back to the other Pinkie Pies. They whispered amongst themselves. “Alright. We want Sad Pinkie back. Safe and sound and no worse for wear.”
Out of nowhere, Sad Pinkie appeared, safe and sound and no worse for wear.
A group hug ensued, and as fearful as the Author was at that moment, he still had to admit it was cute.
—faced the Author again, a quizzical expression on her face. “Did we just skip into the next chapter?”
The author nodded. “We did. I’m still keeping this story at exactly three hundred words, but that doesn’t mean I’m about to restart it.”
“Okay, then.” Random tapped at her chin. “Thriller Pinkie might also need some help. I know she has a few bumps and bruises that could be removed.”
Again, the Author tapped at his keyboard.
Thriller Pinkie’s bumps and bruises disappeared as if deleted or erased.
The Author held up both hands. “Anything else? Can I go now?”
Random cocked a brow. “Whaddya talking about? We escaped your story. We live here now.”
***
An hour later, the Author left his bedroom to see how the Pinkies were settling in. Four Pinkies sat on the couch together in the living room, crammed in front of the TV like fluffy pink marshmallows. Inside the kitchen, Comedy was attempting to raise Tragedy’s spirits by baking together. (The Author had given her back her ability to taste awhile ago.)
By then Romance and Random had already left the house together, intent on grabbing lunch somewhere close. Meanwhile, Adventure and Sci-Fi roamed the condo's vast parking lot in search of either adventure or scrap metal to use toward a spaceship.
Slice of Life sat by the windowsill, staring at a leaf caught in the breeze. Thriller spent her time in the computer room, typing away at the novel she just knew would do well once complete.
Mystery Pinkie was… actually, the Author had no idea where Mystery ended up.
Which left Sombra standing by his side, staring daggers at each newfound Pinkie.
