> Pinkie Plural > by Duplex Fields > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Plural Pinkies > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The funny thing is, watching paint dry was almost fun at first. Sitting there among my reflections, I watched intently as the glistening surface glooped viscously down the canvas. It stopped running as it thickened, and within minutes, it lost its sheen. I thought it ironic that a reflection could lose its sheen. When my copies had started running amok, it was beyond fun. It was like fun had gotten married to fun and had babies. It was like fun had built a fun factory and started building fun. It was like fun had copied itself in a magic mirror pool, because that's exactly what had happened. But then, it started being less fun. When Applejack's barn was demolished before it even got built, I saw it wasn't fun for her at all. I was glad to be at Fluttershy's tea party, but the animals all scattered with our hundreds of hooves pounding the ground. And then some of my reflections showed up with more reflections of themselves! I blinked, and my eyes refocused on the wall of paint. It had gone matte, and now I didn't think it was fun at all. Well, Twilight Sparkle had said it going to be the opposite of fun. So I kept concentrating. I wanted to stay, even if there were fewer mes around. The tension in the room was as thick as a cupcake's frosting. My ears twitched, and I grimaced, concentrating more. I could do this. Around me, I could hear a bunch of other Pinkies breathing, the air in the big wooden building going a bit stale as time ticked by. I wondered, as I stared, where the copies would go. Maybe there were other towns nearby that needed a good laugh. If I lost the test, maybe I could be a traveling clown, bring fun wherever I went. That's what my cutie mark meant, right? But I didn't want to go away from Ponyville, because there was so much fun to be had here. Just in front of me, one of my reflections called out to the rest of us, "Hey, look at the birdie!" Without warning, Twilight lowered her horn, and shot a bolt of magic at her. I flinched as it struck her, but then I watched as she rose into the air, puffed out like a Pinkie-sized balloon. The magenta aura surrounding her pulsed, and flared, and then she burst into a cloud of pink smoke. A glowing wisp flew out the window, and that Pinkie was gone. The scent of cotton candy wafted down. We all looked at Twilight, who looked as shocked at the result of the spell as we were. Then she swallowed hard, and lowered her horn at the rest of us. My body suddenly felt cold. This test wasn't for who got to stay in Ponyville. If we failed, we would go away forever. Dozens of heads shifted slightly as we all looked back at the wall of paint. Okay, Pinkie, you can do this, I told myself. I stared, barely blinking, as sweat ran down my neck. If I couldn't not have fun for the rest of this test, I couldn't have any fun ever again! Behind me, another reflection said, "Watch me bounce and touch the ceiling!" There was a springy noise, and Twilight let loose with two bolts, one low, one high. There were two loud pops. Had Twilight just missed the bouncy Pinkie and hit another? The sound of a frog croaking made a reflection to my left turn her head. "Is that... is that a frog crossed with an orange?" she asked. That really did sound interesting, but too much was at stake. Two of my other reflections weren't quite as astute, and with exclamations of astonishment, they left their seats to look. With three violet bursts, they were gone. Now I knew I couldn't react to anything my reflections did, or I'd be the next Pinkie popped! But just in front of me, a Pinkie turned to her neighbor and told her to look at her hooves. I shifted slightly on my rump and kept my eyes on the paint. I had been staring so long, the world seemed to lose a bit of color, and my eyes were getting itchy. The purple canvas was my world, my life, the meaning of my very existence. But it wasn't theirs. Twin bolts flew from Twilight's horn, and even though the pair of Pinkies was right in front of me, I had no urge to watch them float up and burst. I had seen it happen once, and I never wanted to see it again. To my left, another reflection said, "Betcha can't make a face crazier than this!" I kept my eyes where they were supposed to be, but now I was curious what face she meant. It wasn't worth my life, but I was missing out on fun. A frog crossed with an orange? A funny hoof trick? A crazy face? Oooh, there was so much fun I was missing, even if it was the last fun I'd ever, ever have! I guessed my other reflections were giving in to the temptation, because now Twilight was shooting her horn magic all around me. The air swirled as Pinkies rose into the air and vanished with flashes and the sickly sweet smell of cotton candy. One of the bolts whizzed just past my right foreleg, and I felt a weird, tingly sensation. Had it brushed me? Was I going to disappear? I fought the urge to look at my leg, and soon the sensation passed. The flashes stopped. I kept staring. I could hear another pony behind me in the dead silence, breathing softly. Her breath trembled. I wanted to hug her, to comfort her, even though her fortitude was the only thing keeping me from having a lifetime of fun with the other five ponies in the room. Standing next to the wall of paint were Rarity and Fluttershy. I wanted so much to look into their eyes and gain the encouragement I could find there, but I couldn't risk Twilight seeing me do it. The funny thing about reflections is that you can never catch them looking anywhere else. They're always looking directly in your eyes. While my reflections were playing dressup in Rarity's shop that afternoon, I ignored her shrill shrieks. I'd sat in front of her triple vanity mirror, watching myself watching me, perfectly in sync. Three more mes, just on the other side of the mirror, watched me back. My very own reflections. It reminded me of the second time I'd copied myself, of the magical moment when three hooves grasped our three and lifted them from the underground pond. I kept thinking of all the other Pinkies as my reflections, but actually, only two thirds were mine. The rest were copies of Pinkie Pie herself. It was a strange experience, because I'd only ever seen Pinkie Pie from the other side of the mirror before today. While we had walked through the Everfree Forest, she told me such wonderful stories. She told me of her friends, told me of the laughter she shared and the joy they brought her. She made her life sound like a neverending party, a romp and an adventure all wrapped up with a pretty pink bow. And now she wanted to share all that wonderful fun with me. When I couldn't decide whether to go watch the barn raising or stay at Fluttershy's party, I hurt inside because it wasn't any fun to not be able to decide which fun not to have. When I broke down and cried, she hugged me, and comforted me. She shared laughs with me all the way back to the mirror pool, and I even made her laugh a couple of times. I guess her cutie mark was my cutie mark, and making others laugh was my purpose in life too. And at the time, I hadn't been scared at the prospect of being doubly mared. Joined by her new reflection and mine, I bounced around the wondrous cavern and swam in the dirt. It was more fun being with other mes than I could have imagined. Pinkie tried to get us to go with her, but then I had a brilliant idea. I waved at my reflection, and Pinkie's other reflection, and we gathered around the pool, and solemnly sweared. We helped three more Pinkies rise from the depths, each with a wonderful smile on her face, reflections of our own. After a few more Pinkies, and a lecture on names and faces, it was nothing but fun all afternoon. Fun for us, but frustration and fear for her friends. I felt sorry for them when I saw my reflections turning their afternoon plans upside-down. I hoped we weren't making a mess of her relationships, but I couldn't stop these silly Pinkie Pies from bouncing all around, and truth be told, I didn't want to stop either. Now, staring at a wall of paint, I saw how my brilliant plan had turned into a town hall of horror. There were only two of us left now, if my ears weren't deceiving me. Two reflections left, and only one would get to stay. I wanted it to be me, with all my little pony heart, and I would stare at the wall the longest and be the best reflection and get to stay. But suddenly it dawned on me. There was no way for Pinkie's friends to tell us apart; Twilight had said so in front of the library. Was the other one the real Pinkie Pie? Surely the wonderful, caring friends she had told us about would have found another way to separate her out. This test couldn't be how they'd planned on doing it, right? Surely Pinkie Pie wanted to keep at least one of her reflections. Surely she wanted to keep me? The pony behind me whimpered so softly that only I could hear her. In that moment, my hope drained away. I knew from the way Pinkie had talked about her friends that she would never, ever do anything to make them not be her friends, and she'd do anything to make sure they didn't send her away. She'd sit in front of this wall of paint and stare until her eyes fell out if she had to. She'd survive this, because her friends would give her the strength. And her friends would do their best to sort this all out. Her friends, who had made my friends go away forever. I could feel my stomach churn. This wasn't fair at all! I was a pony too, wasn't I? I had the same adorable tail, the same adorable mane, even the same adorable hooves. I loved apples and muffins and cakes and everything else I'd eaten this afternoon. If you poke me, do I not whinny? Now I grimaced as I stared at the slightly drippy paint. I was as much a pony as her! I had as much right to exist, as much right to survive as the first Pinkie Pie. She'd had a bunch of fun, and now it was my turn. I would be the last Pinkie sitting. I wouldn't miss out on any more fun. I would be the real Pinkie Pie from now on. I could outlast her. A reflection is nothing if not patient. When she was just a filly, and a geode had cracked open in the north field, she looked at the crystal facets in wonder. I was there, looking back at her. When her parents had taken her to Ponyville for her first Winter Wrap-Up, they'd bought a mirror in that fancy department store, the first mirror in their little rural home. Pinkie used to spend hours looking at me, staring deep into my eyes, and sighing. I saw her brush her long, straight mane every evening after her bath. A couple of times I saw her dressed in a black, stiff dress that didn't quite fit her right, and her eyes were red from crying. And then, one glorious day I saw her looking at my poofy mane as I looked at hers. We wore the same expression of astonishment and joy. I was there for the weeks that followed. She made silly faces into the mirror for hours when nopony was watching, and laughed with me at how ridiculous we looked. She saw me in the funhouse mirrors of the first carnival she attended after moving to Ponyville. She saw me distorted on Applejack's Prize Pony trophy, and laughed. She saw me in the lake, laughing with her at Rainbow Flash's black-eyed reflection. She saw me in the beady eyes of a terrible hydra, a sight so fascinating she watched for a few precious, perilous seconds until Twilight saved her life. She saw me backstage in the desert, while dressing up with silly see-through socks. She watched me in the cold of winter while fastening a plastic pudding on her head. She saw me wearing her beautiful bridesmaid's dress, next to her equally gorgeous friends. She saw me in the million shimmering facets of a thousand crystal ponies. She saw me in the facets of her own body as she shimmered and shone under the Northern Lights. And as I looked at the wall on the stage, paint still as boring as ever, I saw Rarity and Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle watching us nervously. They were scared for their friend, for their Pinkie Pie. A drop of sweat ran down my face. If they had a Pinkie Pie, would it be enough? Would they accept me in her place? Would I be hugged? Would they come to my parties? Or would they figure it out and zap me anyway? Would Twilight be upset with me? I frowned. How did I even know the other Pinkie was the real Pinkie, anyway? Maybe their Pinkie was the Pinkie that looked at the crazy-faced Pinkie. For all I knew, the mare to my left might have been a Pinkie who just found paint drying to be loads of fun. If I abandoned the test now, Pinkie's friends might be stuck with a fun-fun-bouncy reflection who didn't know the first thing about them. If so, then it was my duty, nay, my sacred quest, to impersonate the pony in the mirror who had taught me about her life, one-on-one, both before and after my emponyment. Me, the reflection that knew her best. With all the zapping, the chances that she was the real Pinkie were slim, at best. But if she was Pinkie, their Pinkie, could I dare to take her place? And if she was the real Pinkie Pie, could I find a way to concede the contest without losing who I had become? Could I convince Twilight Sparkle to let me stay too? Was there enough room in Ponyville for two Pinkies? Or would she zap me the moment I opened my mouth? Was there enough room in their hearts? Rainbow Flash made a strangled noise and said, "I can't take it anymore!" She flapped into the air behind us, and hollered, in the happiest voice I'd heard yet from her, "Somepony's making balloon animals!" Was there enough room in their hearts? A swift glance at Twilight Sparkle's keen eyes and alert bearing let me know they were determined to see this through to the pink, cotton candy scented end. I knew Rainbow's shout was a distraction. I knew I didn't have to look. But I also knew it was time to go. I remembered now; her name was Rainbow Dash, not Rainbow Flash. If I couldn't even get that right, I didn't deserve to be the Pinkie Pie. I glanced in the direction of the other Pinkie. She was still staring resolutely at the canvas. That's my girl. Sweat poured down my face. Would it hurt? The memory of the first Pinkie popping, of how she curled up and winced, flashed before my eyes. My stomach clenched, but then, a kind of quiet calm washed over me. Putting on my best Pinkie Pie smile, I turned my head away from the painted wall. "What? Where?" In an instant, the magic engulfed me, and I curled up in tingly itchiness as I floated upward. Then I expanded in every direction. I was a balloon with too much air; I was the balloon animal Rainbow Dash said she saw. I felt the magic tearing at me from the inside. My eyes bulged. It hurt. I couldn't think! And then everything turned white. For an instant and an eternity, I soared on the wind. It was warm here, wherever here was. Then, the warm air turned cool, followed by the chill sting of water. And then? And then she was there in the town hall, staring into ten reflections in ten pony eyes (and two big, green, shiny dragon eyes). Her face was covered with relief and release. She looked at each in turn, said something, then looked down at herself and flipped into the air in joy. After a moment of self-doubt, and a quick self examination, she looked at her friends with a giant grin. Then they closed their eyes as they gathered around for a group hug. Their tears of joy on the floor of Ponyville town hall glistened for a moment before they were absorbed into the wood. --- The old mirror on Pinkie Pie's nightstand stood mute witness to the writing of a letter to a princess. As she and Spike walked toward the bedroom's downward stairs, Pinkie Pie looked back at her reflection. "I wish I could have kept just one," she whispered. The reflection's lips said exactly the same thing, perfectly in sync.