PonyPeaceDay3

>you've spent several minutes searching for Spike, Twilight ambling behind you and desperately avoiding a sneeze.
>wandering through this wonderful, if reeking, fog of pot smoke
>so many wandering, giggling ponies
>the colors are mobile, man. Holy shit.  They're talking to me.
>you get lost no less than three times in four cubic feet in the fifteen minutes you spend looking for Spike.
>You are inexorably drawn to sugar cube corner.  It as if a summoning has taken place.
>a sea of varying color is outside, like-minded ponies that had the same AMAZING idea.
>Dude, you can't knock em for it. Even if they are in the way of your delicious, prized awesomeness that awaits within the glistening, beautiful walls.
>You make your way through the crowd without any kind of fuss. As a matter of fact, it's pretty damned easy since they keep forgetting why they're here anyway.
>You open the door and make your way inside, inciting a chorus of "ooohs" and "aaahs."
>They forgot how to open the door.
>Strike a pose, motherbucker. You are that awesome.
>Pinkie is inside, gobbling down baked goods like they were going out of style.
Yo. Pink.
>She sees you. She goes to say something.
>It is gibberish, the speech spewing a fountain of crumbs and frosting giving your hoodie a +1 layer of protective ablative glaze.
>fuck yes, now you smell delicious.  Shower neccessity avoided.
You seen Spike? We gotta mail something to Celestia.
>the thought fumbles through your brain that you haven't even compressed this fog yet for the scroll bomb yet.  Whatthefuckever.
>"Ohsurehe'supstairsanon."
>Somehow, this stuff has made her even more hyperactive than usual. Better get the hell out before things develop into a conversation.
>You head upstairs, leaving an unsuspecting Twilight behind to deal with Pinkie's usual, unrelenting focus.
>You start to listen when you hear the signs of conversation.
>You recognize the voices.
>Rarity.
>Spike.
>They're in the same room.
>Stoned.
>mahboi.jpg

>You stifle a chortle. Creeping up upon the door to the room in which they are in, you crack it open.
>A secondary plan has begun. It is not complicated.
>Pushing the loose door open and yowling "WASSSSSAP?!" at a critical moment was all you could think of.
>Now, there is only waiting for that perfect moment...
>Peeking inside, you see a pristinely dressed Rarity.
>She's wearing something akin to the "naughty librarian" look you remember so well from your days on Earth.
>You don't recall her being a part of Peace Day. At least, not visibly.
>Wait, neither was Spike.  He left early.
>That clever, crafty motherbucker.
>"Now remember Darling, you have to pull from the bottom up." She is using a pull-out pointing baton to motion to something out of your feeble view.
>Spike replies. "I know. We've done this how many times?"
>She thins her eyes through the glasses, and you hear her "tap" the baton across something fleshy.
>"Don't be sassy with me, mister." She is cool and utterly collected, but you notice the bite she gives to her lip after saying it.
>Spike sighs. "Yes Miss Rarity."
>Holy shit Spike. You kinda enjoy this beta thing, don't you bro?
>"Now. Show me." She sticks her nose up, peering through the thick lenses down toward something.
>She closes one eye and looks at it, gaze rolling up, then back down, focused completely on whatever it is.
>The distance her eyes travel denote that whatever it is, it's goddamn huge.
>"Very, very good darling. You never cease to amaze me with how... Resourceful you can be."

>"Now. Give it to me." She crouches down on her belly. She crosses her front hooves, resting her chin atop them.
>She opens her mouth, wide, tongue hanging. You can hear Spike groaning.
>"NOW, darling. I don't have all day."
>with a loud growl from Spike, an immense shot of white, thick as a pencil, shoots from outside your view and paints a stripe of white along her face.
>It happens again and again, the repeat shots clearing her half the time. It hits with enough force that it's audible from where you are.
>She merely giggles at first, but the more coated she gets, the more she starts to sputter out moaning words of praise.
>Rarity, by what you assume is only the halfway point, looks like a glazed donut in a business suit.
>Her horn is sparking madly, popping luminescent, pointless magic that fizzles after bouncing on the floor. Some of it sizzles in the puddles.
>"Oh spikey-wikey..."
>She gets slapped with even more white, and is positively oozing with the stuff.
>"You always know how to make a girl feel *dirty.*"
>It's at this point you notice Pinkie's silence.
>You hear some sniffling and huffs from downstairs.
>It's then it hits you. Twilight is rearing up for a sneeze.

>You hear the sneeze.
>there is a sound resembling a hideous roar, cut off in mid screech by the sound of glass blowing out downstairs.
>The entire house shakes, and you are forced to regain your balance after the somewhat muffled shockwave climbs the stairs.
>... Which causes you to push upon the otherwise ludicrously heavy wooden door behind which you've been hiding.
>It opens at the perfect pace.
>the speed allows it to creak, audibly, gently revealing the look of shock and awe on both you and Rarity's faces.
>As the door opens, you cring back from what you expect to see of Spike.
>Sorry bro. as much as I like your girlfriend, I don't wanna see *that.*
>Despite the thought, you peer out from your protectively flung-up forearms.
>The look on his face is of completely surprised, still confusion.
>He's brandishing his [spoiler] donut frosting tube,[/spoiler] mostly emptied, and oozing.
>By Celestia, that thing has got to be the biggest [spoiler]decorating[/spoiler] implement you've ever seen.
>Rarity squints at you. Dripping profusely, she says, simply: "Don't judge me."
>It's then you can only mutter a single word. It's the only thing that comes to mind.
>You look straight at Spike, now cradling his [spoiler]tube[/spoiler] like a dying animal as it flops about.
WASSSSSSSSSSAAAP?!