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- >Your name, is Anonymous
- >Most call you by your pet name, Anon
- >You are a human, crudely pulled from your plane of existence by a group of surprisingly intelligent equines
- >Originally they were attempting to see if they could harvest food from other dimensions in an attempt to solve hunger for all
- >They were aiming for a cake, when they grabbed you instead
- >You’ll never understand how they messed that one up
- >Fortunately for you, their leader Celestia, was quite kind to you
- >She gave you food, and a temporal place to stay
- >After a day or so, Celestia lamentably explained that though they knew how to take things from other forms of existence, they were clueless as to how they put them back
- >You were grateful to Celestia for being hospitable, but that wasn't exactly easy for you to hear
- >After sometime of grief, you finally came to terms with reality
- >Everything you knew, everything you were, was gone
- >That was the beginning of your life, in the blissful land of Equestria
- >You’ve been in Equestria for little over a year now, and life has been fairly smooth
- >Except for the last month or so, that’s when things started to get odd for you
- >This little thought pulls you from your daydream, as you ponder where you left off
- >There's whistling in your ears, rushing past you like a harsh summer storm
- >The sensation of gravity is absent, you feel as though you're floating
- >You hear faint voices screaming out your name, but you can't quite make them out
- >You attempt to focus, but a pain hits your left shoulder
- >You veer your eyes to see a torn strap, accompanied by an open wound on your forearm
- >Oh yes, you were falling to your death
- ---
- >It’s officially been one year since you’ve come to Equestria
- >To celebrate, you've been given a month vacation
- >Best part is, it’s with pay
- >Your plans for this gift are perfect, get sleep, get money for sleep, enjoy yourself
- >Flawless, beautiful, absolutely nothing can mess this up
- >Or so you hoped
- >”Wake up.”
- >Five minutes, five minutes she’s stood there, and repeated the same command
- >”Wake up.”
- >You’re starting to feel the comfort of your bed isn't worth the harassment
- >”Wake up.”
- >You snuggle into your covers, ensuring not a single crack is in your fortress of warmth
- >”Wake up.”
- >Okay, that’s really starting to get-
- >”Wake up.”
- >There it goes, that last quiver of enjoyment
- >You jump out of bed with a shriek, causing your source of bother to jump
- >Before she can react further, you grab her by the horn, kneeling down to face her
- “Listen here, Grapefart, I only have one vacation, and I’m going to fucking enjoy it.”
- >Twilight stares you down, attempting to dislodge your assertive attitude
- >However, you're not unfamiliar with this game
- >You return her stone, unblinking stare
- >Your hand is still tightly clasped around her horn
- >She doesn’t seem to notice your little advantage though
- >Slowly, you start moving your hand up and down in a jerking motion, caressing her horn
- >She’s trying hard to ignore it, but you know horns are like the funny bones of unicorns
- >And you’re hitting it with a hammer
- >She starts making grunting noises, trying hard to maintain eye contact
- >You’re at full speed now, and she’s showing quirks more often now
- >Finally, after what felt like an hour, she blinks, swatting away your hand in the process
- >”Okay, fine, you win.” She admits, scratching at the floor
- “I always do.” You cheerfully reply, sticking your tongue out to mock her further
- >She frowns hard at that remark, looking down at the ground, a red anger developing on her face
- >You may have bit that nerve a bit too hard
- >You may not necessarily like her bothering you every morning, especially off time
- >But she does house you for free, and her company isn’t terrible
- >She can even be quite enjoyable, oddly enough
- >She has helped you in quite a few poor situations, too
- >Like the time you found a Cockatrice, and carried it around thinking it was a mutant chicken, then brought it to the school to show all the fillies…
- >You've put yourself so deep into that entertaining thought, you hadn't even realized you've been staring at her for a good two minutes straight
- “Uh...”
- >”…”
- >You glance back to her a few times, trying hard to find some way to break the developing tension
- >Scanning the room, you see a scroll with the list of chores she has prepared for you
- >Perfect, Spike can fulfill that solid he owes you by doing your chores, and you can sleep the day away
- >You look back to Twilight with a sly grin, your master plan about to be set in motion
- >However, something catches your eye
- >Her face is red, but that’s not the look of ‘I want to strangle you with your insides’
- >No, this is something softer
- >She’s staring at you now, seeming to be lost in her own thoughts
- >Then, like the brick Spike threw at you last week, it hit you
- >You’re naked
- >You quickly dive back into your bed after realizing your exposure
- >Why? Why were you bare ass naked?
- >Normally you wear some boxers, maybe even jeans
- >You don’t go birthday suit because of the company you keep
- >So what happened to your garments then?
- >You peak your head out from the covers, to be met with Twilight’s stare once more
- “Twilight?”
- >She continues to stare, seeming quite mindless
- “TWILIGHT!”
- >”Wha?! I was just, uh; Yeah?”
- “Where are my clothes? I had them on when I went to bed.”
- >She puts a hoof to her chin, delving deep into her thoughts
- >“Did you take them off?”
- “Now why the hell would I do that?”
- >You try feeling around under the blanket for them
- >Twilight continues listing possible places you could have left them
- >You’re nearing the end of the bed, when your pointer finger hits something
- >’Paper..?’
- >You grab hold of the item, and pull it into the light
- >It’s an envelope, with a pink seal on it
- >You study the frontal writing on it, trying to match it to anyone you know
- >”-I also think you may have been drunk last night, so you may have… What’s that?”
- >You stare at the envelope; you don’t even open it before tossing it at Twilight
- >She catches it in a web of magic, before bringing it to her eyes
- “It’s a message, from Pinkie.”
- >Twilight looks up, confused
- >”…Why is there a message from Pinkie in your bed?”
- “Don’t know, but I do know where my jeans went.”
- >You get up before Twilight can press any further, the blanket wrapped around your waist like a towel
- >You head to your closet, pulling it open
- >Just to find it empty
- “You gotta be fucking me.”
- >You let out low growl, almost tearing the handles off your closet
- >”Uh, Anon..?”
- >You turn to Twilight, trying hard to keep calm
- >She levitates the envelop over to you
- >”Maybe you should read it? Pinkie might have a good-”
- >You throw one hand out, signaling her to stop her speech
- >You rip the envelop open, a small key falls to the floor, along with a message
- >You lean down, scooping them up
- >The key is somewhat small, and pink
- >Go figure
- >You turn your attention to the message instead, hoping for it to give you some insight
- >”A party needs more than one, a family is more than two. Don’t look for me, she’ll come to you.”
- “…The fuck does that even mean?”
- >Twilight looks quizzical
- >However, you need to get going
- >You throw the message to Twilight, who ducks out of the way before grabbing hold of it
- >You make your way to your bed, reach into your pillow case, and pull out your wallet
- >You flip over the mattress, and a spare set of clothing lays there
- >Your original clothes from when you first came here
- >You dawn your black suit, straightening your tie with a flick
- >”What does this message mean?”
- “I dunno, but I sure as hell am going to find out.”
- >With that, you storm out of the library, into the glorious morning sun
- >There’s a skip in your step, and you can’t help but smile at the morning ponies
- >Even if the pink one stole your clothes, that won’t ruin your day
- >You can’t help but get an old tune into your head, which you become possessed to sing along with
- >Smiles paint the faces of all the ponies you pass, resistance to returning those smiles are futile
- >A ball hits you, leaning down you snatch it, looking to the direction it came from
- >A couple small fillies sheepishly smile at you, their eyes pleading for the return of their ball
- >If you were some old fart, you’d probably have kept it to try and teach some lesson of being cautious
- >Good thing you’re not
- >You toss the ball back, a clear shot for the fillies
- >A small blue one is making a run for it
- >It’s clear he’s gonna-
- >SMACK
- >He's down
- >He lies there, not moving
- >You and the other fillies just stare
- >Did he seriously get knocked out by a ball?
- >One of the fillies call out his name, and a couple start moving towards him
- >if you were an old fart, you would have stayed and made sure he’s alright
- >Alas, you’re still not an old fart
- >You inch your way down your original path, before taking off
- >Can’t deal with this shit in the morning
- >Before you know it, you’re at the pink ones lair
- >This is going to be headache inducing
- >You walk up to knock on the door
- >You brace yourself for the possible tackle the pink one greets you with
- >But, as you knock, nothing happens
- >You knock a bit harder, thinking she may have heard you
- >You bag on it once, and the door slowly swings open on its own
- >You stand there, looking around to see if the pink one’s playing a prank on you
- “Hello?”
- >No reply
- >This is getting uncomfortable, more so than the incident with Twilight
- >Slowly, you make your way around the door
- >You were not prepared for what was on the other side
- >Before you, placed on the countertop stood the largest cake you’ve ever seen
- >Its iced layers gleaming in the window light
- >The smell in the room is that of a heavenly vanilla, mixed with something with spice to it
- >Your mouth begins to water just from the sight of such magnificence
- >You haven’t even noticed you’re moving closer to it
- >You look around the room to see if you’re being watched
- >All clear
- >Looking back to the cake, you take a small dab of icing off
- >Without haste, you shove your sweetened finger into your mouth
- >Time seems to stop, all outside sound now a faint muffle
- >You cease to breath, a floating feeling making its way through your body
- >This moment of bliss seems to last forever
- >Your lungs scream for air, breaking you from the trance
- >You stand there, legs weak and breath quick
- >You feel like you just ran a mile
- >Slowly, your gaze meets the cake again
- >That was only the icing
- >You couldn't even begin to fathom what the full cake tastes like
- >You go over the possibilities as to how something so perfect came to be
- >Magic?
- >Magical ingredients?
- >An ancient recipe conceived by horse gods?
- >Is that even a thing?
- >You shove the ideas out of your head, focusing on only the cake
- >Every sense in your body is ordering you to eat it
- >You’re finding it increasingly difficult to deny these commands
- >You hover over the first layer, readying your hands
- >You’re about to go full blown caveman
- >Before you can desecrate the cake, you hear something
- >Voices, closing in
- >ohshit
- >You jump behind cover, attempting to conceal yourself from sight
- >Shortly after, you hear the faint voice of Pinkie
- >She won't notice you took a bit of icing, right?
- >Your reassure yourself, but that feeling slowly starts to fade the more you think of it
- >You recall how she noticed one of your shoe laces were tied differently two days ago
- >If she has recognition of that level, she will easily see what you've done
- >You start to panic, looking around for a way out
- >The window
- >Yes, you'll smash through the window
- >Flawless plan there, Anon
- >Right as you're about to execute your scheme, you hear another voice
- >You halt, listening intently
- >Unable to make it out, you Solid Snake your way to the kitchen door, pressing your ear against it
- >A feminine voice is heard, with a quirk in it
- >A heavy southern accent makes its way through
- >'Applejack?'
- >You pull away from the door, cleaning your ear to make sure you’re hearing right
- >Applejack said she would be working at the farm all of yesterday, and today
- >What’s she doing here now?
- >You press against the door again, listening intently for any clues
- >”Ah told ya Pinkie, she said the cake had to be perfect.”
- >She sounds irritated, hint of fatigue in there too
- >A few moments pass, you’re expecting some cheerful retort
- >Strangely enough, Pinkie doesn’t reply
- >Another minute or so passes, the most you hear is a heavy sigh from Applejack
- >”Look, Pinkie. Ah know ya’ll got orders comin’ an all, but we gotta get this right.”
- >Again, nothing from Pinkie
- >Something happen?
- >You wouldn't be surprised, Pinkie has gotten herself into plenty trouble before
- >You hear a bit of ruffling, like something is being dragged
- >”Ah’ll see ya later, Pinkie. But ah beg you, please get it done.”
- >With that, you hear Applejack make a hasteful exit
- >What was that about?
- >You expect an answer any moment from Pinkie, as she tends to make some kind of song related to her tasks
- >A few minutes pass, the only sound you hear is your own breathing
- >You’re starting to get a bit uncomfortable leaning in such an awkward position
- >You could just leave, sounds like now’s not a good time to bug Pinkie
- >You consider it, even stand up, striding for the door
- >Just as you're about to exit, you recall your reason for being there in the first place
- >You need your clothes
- >Slowly, you open the door just enough to reveal Pinkie
- >She’s sitting in the middle of the room, eyes at the floor
- >Just, sitting there
- >Any pent up anger you still held is quickly turned to concern
- >Pinkie has been a pain at times for you, but she also has given you some of your most fond memories of Equestria
- >You silently open the door, expecting Pinkie to jump up
- >She doesn’t seem to notice
- >You slowly make your way to her
- >Still no response
- >You lean down next to her, placing your hand on her wither
- “Pinkie?”
- >Nothing
- >She doesn’t turn to you
- >Hell, she doesn't even acknowledge you
- >No smile
- >No smirk
- >Not even a blink
- “Pinkie?”
- >Again, nothing
- >You keep a lock on her eyes, looking for a hint of expression
- >Slowly, you orbit your way around to face her
- >It's at this point you notice her mane is somewhat limp
- >You also take notice that she has a frown stamped across her face
- >Not once have you seen Pinkie frown in the entire year you've been there
- >Thick and thin, she always had a smile
- >What could possibly make her frown now?
- >You reach out, poking her in the muzzle
- >Not even a flinch
- >Damn, she’s really good at keeping a straight face
- >You start lightly patting her face in an attempt to bring her out of this trance
- “Yo, Anon to Pinx.”
- >You start patting a bit harder now, keeping it short of a slap
- “Ponka!”
- >You're really wasting time here
- >Time you could be using on more important things
- >You can feel an agitation creeping into you
- >She steals your clothes, and now she won't respond to you
- >Hasn't she ever heard of taking a joke too far?
- >Hasn't she considered you might be beaten from the work you have been doing?
- >That all you want to do is rest?
- >You can feel your teeth grinding
- >Your mind starts to sting from frustration
- >That you just want to enjoy your day?
- >A heated anger seeps into every inch of your body, causing you to ball your fists
- >She has done all of this to you, all of these problems
- >For no better reason than to annoy you
- >On top of all that, you're here, wasting your time
- >Of your vacation
- >With that, you fling your arms around her
- >You snatch her up
- >Shaking her viciously, you yell her name again
- “PINKIE!”
- >Not a damn thing
- >You're only a few clicks away from a full blown rage
- >It takes all your will not to throw her through the window
- >Oh, how you want to
- >But breaking that window would cost you more than you're willing to put out
- >Feeling a bit foiled, you take a moment to just stare at her angrily
- >Her mane hangs in her eyes, limp as before
- >The frown is still very abundant
- >She really hasn't done anything besides that
- >Sit there, saddened by whatever makes Pinkie sad
- >Holding her up close, she seems somewhat hollow in her eyes
- >You almost feel bad for shaking her
- >Reason starts to kick its way back into your mind the longer you stare at her
- >Anytime you've ever hurt a pony, accidently or on purpose, it always came back to bite you in the ass
- >As much as you hate to admit it, violence won't solve this
- >Even if you really want it to right now
- >As gently as you can, you try setting her down
- >Though not quite as gently as you had thought
- >Pinkie lands with a loud thud, causing you to recoil
- >That sounded like it hurt
- >A lot
- >You slowly put your gaze upon her again, expecting to see her eyes watering
- >Maybe even a few tears
- >But instead, you get what you've gotten this entire scene
- >Nothing
- >You let out a heavy sigh, feeling defeated
- >Even a bit foolish
- >No answers, no clothes
- >Which means you’re going to have to ask Rarity to make another custom set
- >That’s going to cost you
- >Possibly your entire vacation pay
- >You let out a long groan, turning to the door
- >Stupid pink horse, with her stupid attitude and her stupid sweets-
- >Sweets
- >If there's one thing Pinkie loves, it's sweets
- >A devious smile makes its way across your face that could rival that of the Grinch
- >On your heels, you slowly turn back to Pinkie
- “So, Pinkie...”
- >You slither your way over to her, placing a hand on her withers again
- “I couldn't help but notice that magnificent cake you have out front, I can only imagine how much effort and time you must've put into it.”
- >You glide your hand across her face, causing her to quiver slightly
- >Perfect
- >You firmly place your hand under her chin
- “A cake so prudently cared for …”
- >You lean in closer
- >So close, you can feel her gentle, shallow breath against your face
- >Smells like ginger, oddly enough
- “A cake so masterfully crafted…”
- >You put more emphasis into each word as you go on
- “Would be such a shame if something so… Perfect, were to suddenly hit the floor.”
- >Suddenly, her eyes flash wide open, and she emits a small squeaking noise
- >”But…”
- >Yes, she’s breaking
- >Just a little more Anon, then you’ll have what’s yours
- “In fact, I think-”
- >“But it’s not.”
- >Huh?
- “Uh, come again?”
- >Pinkie pushes your hand away in a slow, tired motion
- >She looks back to the floor, grief returning to her complexion
- >“It’s not perfect…”
- >Her voice trails off, staring at the door that leads out front
- >Wait, is she talking about the cake?
- >You'd normally be pretty peeved that she’s acted this way over a cake
- >Instead, you're dumbfounded
- “Pinkie.”
- >”Hmm?”
- “The cake’s fine.”
- >”But I was-”
- “It’s fine.”
- >“How do you know-”
- “I tasted it.”
- >”…You really think it’s good?”
- >There had been times you’d be asked stupid questions
- >But this, this is the king of those questions
- “Good? I hallucinated from how good it was, and that was just the icing.”
- >You do your best to mimic the face you had during the experience, getting a small giggle from Pinkie
- >She still looks grief stricken, but less than before
- >"Thanks, Anon."
- >You wave it away; you have other, more important things to discuss
- >Like certain attire of yours
- "Pinkie, I need to ask you something."
- >She doesn't say anything, but she does look up at you
- "Where are my clothes?"
- >A stupid look shoots across her face
- >She looks as though you ripped out her horse brain
- >"What?"
- “My clothes. This morning, you came into the library, stripped me, and took all the clothes in my possession.”
- >You take a step forward, bending low to meet her face
- >She almost looks…
- >Scared?
- >Probably because she knows that you’re onto her
- >You lift your head back, crossing your arms in a daunting manner
- “I want them back.”
- >You state your desire with a cold, emotionless tone
- >Looking to the floor, Pinkie scratches her head
- >She tries looking everywhere but at you
- >She definitely knows where your clothes are, you can feel it
- >Her eyes bolt up to meet your figure, scanning you closely
- >”…If I took them, what’re you wearing?”
- >You look yourself over, noting the reason for her bewilderment
- “Hah, got’cha there. I had another pair of clothes ready in case anything ever happened to the wardrobe.”
- >You can’t help but think back to when Twilight, testing some new and revolutionary spell, turned one of your chairs into a demonic creature
- >A demonic chair that had a taste for small dragons, apparently
- >Oh, how you loved that chair
- >Shame you had to burn it to the ground
- >You break from the bitter-sweet thought, due to an annoying poking to your ribs
- >Pinkie now stands ‘afore you, the perplexity never leaving her face
- >She pokes you one more time, for good measure, getting a grunt out of you
- >You swat her hoof away, anger making its way across your visage
- “I demand you return my clothes at once, else I will have to turn to drastic measures.”
- >You gesture to the door leading to the front, wherein stands the cake
- >Pinkie starts frowning, hopping on her hooves in a panicked manner
- >”B-but I didn’t take them!”
- >Her voice almost cracks through her protest
- >She sounds, abit too sincere
- >She looks stricken, a pleading look in her eyes
- >Normally Pinkie would be jumping around, accusing you of being silly
- >Or she would be reasonable, saying she’ll just make another cake
- >But this…
- >This is strange, even for Pinkie
- >You brush the slight concern away, grabbing her by her bouncy and, oddly soft mane
- “Not buying it. Had your writing, your scent, hell; even had your little pink seal on it.”
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