Pinkie Goth

>After having attended a cake convention in Canterlot, you and Pinkie make your way back home. As you relish in the cool night air, you spot a large crowd of goth looking poines all huddled up, listening to music. Some are “dancing”, and some seem to be on a stage of some kind. Almost all of them are decked out in black everything.
>When Pinkie catches eye of them, she smiles, and begins to trot over.
“Whoa, where are you going?”
>”I’ve never been to a party like that before, I wanna see what it’s about.”
“Pinkie that’s not a..”
>Before you can finish, she continues on her way, trotting, and lalaing. When she reaches the other side, she glances around at all the different types of ponies, and when they notice her she smiles and addresses them all, “Boy, you all really like black huh?”
>Some of the somber looking ponies look at one another, before going back to what they were doing. One young stallion on the stage clears his throat, and in a dry, monotone voice says, “I’m hurting inside, the black night wraps itself around me like a blanket. Tuck me in night, let me awake no more.”
>Some of the ponies give unenthusiastic clapping as the stallion nods, and leaves the stage. Another stallion comes up, and takes out a paper, “I’m hurting inside,” As the stallion continues his depressing rant, you walk up behind Pinkie.
“This party blows, cmon, lets go back home.”
>”Just a minute Anon, I want to try to cheer these ponies up.”
“Pinkie, they’re Goths, you can’t cheer them up unless you have a Hot Topic or some shit around here.”
>”It never hurts to try~”
>With the stallion finished, Pinkie trots onto the stage, and grabs the mic. Tapping on it, she smiles and looks over the crowd, “How ya doin everyp0ny?! My names Pinkie Pie, and sometimes, when I’m sad, I like to sing a little song.” She inhales deep.

>Pinkie and several backup dancers are on stage, holding sparklers as fireworks explode in the background, “..and that’s why it’s A, OK, to be, GAAAAYYY!!!”
>Pinkie gasps for air as she waits for the applause, nothing. One stallion in the group gets up, “That was awful!”
>”Yeah it sucked!”
>”Booo!!”
>Pinkie scratches her head, “I don’t get it, why didn’t you like it? Everyp0ny wants to be gay, don’t they?”
>”Ponies like us don’t need to be happy, we prefer to see the world for what it is. A bleak and miserable place, where hope is only an illusion created by the delusional, a normy like you could never understand.”
>An acne covered mare gets up, and throws a balled up wrapper at her, “So get off the stage! Come back when you actually relate to our misery. Normy, normy, normy..” Pretty soon the others join in, and heckle her off the stage.
>As Pinkie walks passed you depressed, you shake your head, and look at the crowd.
“You all need to get laid.”

>The next day, Pinkie sits in her room, and nurses her sorrow with a big tub of ice cream. Thinking back to what they had said, she takes a spoonful, and ponders to herself.
>She had been feeling misery, but that was from getting excluded like that, everyp0ny was her friend, so why not them? Was it because she was a “normy”?
>Perhaps, if she could get them to see that she can be unhappy too, they would warm up to her.
>”That’s it! I’ll just be depressed~ But…I have no reason to be sad.” She hangs her head, and then sighs before getting an idea, “That’s it again! I’ll just pretend to be depressed! But I don’t know how, hmmm, I’ll have to ask the most depressing, gloomy, and most homely pony I know.”
>Some time later, Pinkie sits in a dark blue room, “And those ponies need to think I’m depressed, what do you think Princess Luna?”
>Luna ponders this, “We are not sure, perhaps you could dress in garb on dark colors, and carry yourself as though all is lost. These goth ponies are a relatively new thing for us, but if it is misery you are looking for, I know just the thing. Come, we shall have our best mares tend to this.”
>You walk over to Pinkie’s today to pick her up, apparently she wanted to go back and try her luck. Reaching the door, you knock and wait a bit. The door opens and reveals a straight mane Pinkie Pie, complete with dulled coat, several ear piercings, and a dark gray jacket that has a pony skull on it. She looks at you completely indifferent, and with narrowed eyes.
“Pinkie?”
>In a moment she smiles, and hugs you, “Awww~ You recognized me! The cakes called the cops on me.”
“What happened to you? Why do you look like that?”
>”Oh Luna gave me some tips on how to be goth, I’m sure to win those ponies over now.” You sigh exhausted, and watch her skip past you, “C’mon Anon~ Lets go.”

>Over in Canterlot, you and Pinkie hide behind a cart, and scope out the area. The Goths are all assembling, and setting up, “Ok, put on this mustache so they won’t recognize you.”
“Sure, you guys are retarded enough to fall for it.”
>Slapping it on, you and Pinkie drop cover, and walk over. As expected, nobody recognizes you, and definitely not Pinkie.
>Some of the stallions give interested looks at her, while she walks through the crowd. One of them approaches her, “I’ve never seen you around before, what’s your name?”
>”Pinkeeeeaaa..mina, yeah, Pinkamena.”
“You needed to think about that?”
>Pinkie smiles, and sticks her tounge out at you, but notices that the stallion saw her acting cheery. Pinkie puts back on her “goth” face, and speaks in a monotone voice “Yeah, life is bad and stuff, and uhh, misery.”
>The stallion nods, as some stallions take the stage, and begin reading their poetry. Pinkie walks over to the stage, and waits her turn.
>You sit down and wait for her to come up, and as you do, some chubby goth mare scoots over to you, “Hey, what’s your name?”
>You can smell the desperation, and musty cheese coming off of her, but then again.
“Anon, how’s it going?”
>Pinkie Pie steps up, and taps on the mic, looking around she leans close to the mic, “One time I wanted cake, but we were all out.” You face palm as the crowd falls even more dead silent than before. Pinkie tries to see what she did wrong, “Umm, everyday, I have to change diapers…they smell.”
“God, she’s dying up there.”
>The chubby goth next to you looks forward, ”We’re all dying.” You lean back, and wrap your arm around her.
“Then what better time to live than today? You know, I think there’s a hotel not far.”
>She gaps, before looking at you, then the floor, and blushes.
>Pinkie stammers on stage as she pulls out a paper, “I.I.I wrote a haiku, uhh, let’s see…Party, party, party, I like to party.”
>Some stallion gets up, “That’s not a haiku, that’s a spoken word version of an Andie W. K, song!”
>”Oh, uhhh, well…Anon! Get up here, I need your help for the drum solo!”
>She looks into the crowd, but doesn’t see you. Off in a hotel room, you lay in bed with a chubby mare riding you.
“Yeah! Your folds are like seductive jello!”
>Later that night, you come walking out of the hotel, and Pinkie storms up to you, “Way to bucking go Anon, thanks to you, my show was horrible! Where were you!?”
>A perky, and chubby mare comes out behind you, hair done up in a bun, and wearing all bright pink, “Hey!” She leans over you, and kisses you on the cheek, “Who’s this? A friend of yours?”
“Pinkie, this is Mare Macabre, Macabre, Pinkie. And if you must know, I was uhhh..talking with my friend here.”
>Today was a fuck the goth out of some mare day.