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- >You are Anon.
- >Forever Alone.
- >You're not trying to be, but you can't seem to get a date.
- >To be honest, you're only going after Pinkie, so you can't say you've exhausted all options.
- >But she always seemed so busy and happy and-
- >Friendly.
- >Like all she could have was friends.
- >You hadn't met any failed suitors of hers.
- >And you hadn't met anyone she hadn't introduced you to.
- >The coincedence worried you, because a girl as bright and happy and pretty as she was must have had one or two.
- >And in a town this small, they wouldn't have simply lost touch.
- >So you just longed from beside, because that was better than longing from afar.
- >Anyway, you were the local pharmacist.
- >And in a town this small, that doubled as chemist.
- >Pinkie frequently contacted you for fireworks, and the little wonders of chemistry.
- >Like a powder that jellied water.
- >Or a gas that made everyone talk with a deep, deep voice.
- >But mostly, she wanted new punch.
- >You approached punch-making as an art, one that could ever be improved.
- >You had improved on it quite a bit.
- >She knew this, and was always happy to test your latest recipe at her parties.
- >You never minded making the liters and liters of the stuff.
- >A few minutes with her was always worth any amount of your time.
- >You are actually working on another batch for her right now.
- >But this time, you were trying something immoral and doubtlessly illegal.
- >Mixing [spoiler] a harmless, inactive substance[/spoiler] into the punch.
- >You do so and close the tank.
- >Yeah, you mix it up in those hundred liter barrels.
- Pinkie! I'm done!
- >She comes in from your living room, "Great! I'll just take-"
- >Looking over your notes, you interrupt her.
- Wait, forgot this.
- >You pop open the lid, and pour a golden, eye-watering liquid into the still-swirling punch.
- >"What was that?"
- Brandy, you said it was a bachelorette party, right?
- >"Well, yeah, but-"
- They'll need an excuse for what they'll be doing.
- >You seal the tank and roll it to Pinkie's Party Van.
- Come on, let's go.
- >You load it up and, shutting the back door, clamber into the front seat, taking care to avoid Pinkie's pet alligator.
- >To the party you went, Pinkie driving.
- >Once there, you unloaded the punch and, that done, nurse a cup of it outside on the Party Van.
- >Pinkie, surprisingly, joins you with her own cup.
- >You chat for a while, until your cups run dry.
- >Being the elegant gentleman that you are, you volunteer to retrieve some more punch.
- >She agrees, so you go.
- >Inside, it appears that the guests drank deep of the punch, with them being just two articles of clothing away from an orgy.
- >You manage to get to the bowl unmolested, and fill up two cups, holding one in your mouth and using your free hand to drop a catalyst in the other.
- >The powder quickly dissolves, leaving the drink looking the same as before.
- >You continue out to the Party Van, with the pleasant times ahead in mind.
- Herweh.
- >You offer the drink in hand to her, she accepts, and you finally remove your cup from your jaws.
- >You sip.
- I think that someone else boozed the punch.
- >You note, tasting the altered flavor.
- >Pinkie tries to say something, but her voice is so slurred that you can't understand it.
- >Moments later, she is gone to Hypno's realm.
- >You give a self-deprecating smile, then scoop her up and drive her back to your house.
- >You take Pinkie up to your room, and gently lay her on your bed.
- >Taking a brush, you smooth and straighten her hair, so it's just how you like it.
- >Then you lie on the bed beside her, and gathering Pinkie up in your arms, hold her.
- >She is warm and soft and smells a little of some saccharine perfume, and a little of baking.
- >Though others might be drawn to wreak havoc upon her sleeping form, you are content to cuddle your sweet waifu.
- >It was a shame you had so little time to do it.
- >Three hours gone, and then you had to take her back to her apartment.
- >As you drive back to your empty house, you smile at the memory, and wonder if you could do that again.
- >And Pinkie wakes up in her silent apartment, looks at the empty space on her bed, and sighs.
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