Introduction

The plain gray hotel room was silent except for the soft murmur of a tape recorder. In the middle of the small space was an old table where two ponies sat. On one side was a small cream pony with choppy orange hair and a microphone for a cutie mark. The young mare called herself Scoop, as she had aspirations of being a famous newspony and interviewer. Scoop nervously wrung her hooves as the silence of her companion continued. The pink pony who sat across from Scoop avoided her gaze. Her blue eyes looked kind but weary, or that was what Scoop thought. As the minutes ticked by, Scoop tried to remain patient. After all, one of the agreements her interviewee had made her swear to was that there would be no questions; she would just tell her story and that would be that. At the time, the exited young mare had agreed hastily, thrilled that such a strange and interesting pony would let herself be interviewed by a writer with zero experience. But as the aspiring journalist sat staring at the slow spin of the tape recorder, she began to think that the mare across the table from her would never speak.



Pinkie glanced across the table. The young mare with the orange hair and green eyes looked up at her expectantly. The fuchsia-haired pony inhaled deeply, trying to hold the air in for as long as she could.

"Are you alright?" Scoop asked. Pinkie nodded. A thought occurred to Scoop. "Are we alone?" she said anxiously. Her mind raced. What was an interviewer supposed to do if that happened in an interview? Should she... Scoop calmed down when she saw Pinkie's head nod.

A few more moments passed. Pinkie's turquoise eyes closed as she reluctantly exhaled. "I'm ready." she whispered.

Part 1

"None of it was supposed to happen. I never asked for it. I always imagined I would grow old in Ponyville. I was going to the adorably ecentric mare who cheered everypony up with yummy sweets and silliness. I was going to be one of the head bakers in Ponyville once I had worked for the Cakes for eight years. (The Cakes were my employers. They said they would make me a partner in their bakery after I was their employee for eight years.) Now, all of it doesn't seem real. It all seems like a candy-colored story I made up to convince myself that I was happy, at least for a while.

I really did love it, my life of singing and jumping and laughing with my friends. Most days, I would hang out with my friends after work, only going home when my hiccups were so bad that I had to go home and drink some water. My life then seems like a dream now, and those last few days in Ponyville were the dreamiest.

I remember that, in those last few days, I spent even more time than usual with my friends. One day, my friend Rarity invited me over. It made me so happy that my sophisticated unicorn pal wanted to spend some special time with me. I had always kind of had this feeling that Rarity thought I was annoying. I know it was silly, because Rarity was always really nice to me. Like this one time, she made me a beautiful dress that was made special for me to reflect my personality as a favor. I was kind of a jerk about it, saying it wasn't what I wanted. Poor Rarity didn't just tell me to stuff it, she made me an entirely new dress. I feel so bad looking back on it, because it was so much extra work for her when the first dress was beautiful all along, and the second dress turned out hideous. In the end, I apologized, and she forgave me. She wasn't even mad.

Despite all that, I still couldn't shake the feeling that Rarity thought I was annoying. I think it was because I was so self conscious about the fact that I was a messy eater and I talked too much, and I just assumed that a classy unicorn like Rarity wouldn't like me. Anyway, I was happy that she obviously didn't hate me because she invited me over for the day.

I arrived at the stunning white palace that was Rarity's Carousel Boutique, and the lady herself was there to let me in. 'Oh, hello Pinkie darling!' she sang in that refined voice. 'I'm just so glad you could come! I am in the process of making a party line for the boutique, and how in Equestria could anypony think of making a party anything without the input of Ponyville's best party pony! It'll be fun! And afterwards, I'll need somepony to model all those party clothes, and nopony would be better for the job than you! I could give you a makeover-hair, makeup, everything! What do you say, hmm?'

I was in shock. Hardly anypony ever asked for my advice on anything, let alone the most sophisticated pony I knew. I nodded weakly and Rarity pulled me inside.

I was instantly bombarded with a slew of questions about color, texture, fabric, etc. 'Can one party in silk? How about cashmere? Does this look flexible enough to dance in? Or would it get too sweaty? What do you think?'

'Umm... no, yes, probably, maybe.' I said.

'Oh Pinkie, what would I do without you?" Rarity cried before giving me a big hug.

After a few hours of chatting, questions, and laughs, the violet-haired unicorn and I had finished all the dresses. We sat down for a bit while we sipped tea (Rarity informed me that she would no longer be drinking anything but green tea, as it was good for skin or hair or something. We nibbled on some chocolate left over from her sister's attempt to get a cutie mark in chocolate eating. Once we finished, my dining companion's azure eyes twinkled with excitement. 'You know what time it is?' she burst.

'Umm... judging from the sun's position in the sky, I'd say it's about...'

'It's makeover time!' she squealed.

'Uh, that's cool too.' I stuttered as she whisked me upstairs with her purple mane whipping behind her as she sprinted up the stairs with me in tow. When we arrived upstairs, she proceeded to rummage through her collection of beauty supplied until she found whatever it was she was trying to find. Like a whirlwind, she came at me with a flurry of creams, powders, sprays, balms, and other assorted products. She didn't speak (or blink, for that matter) as she was intensely focused on her task. She just looked so happy that I stayed quiet, for once, not wanting to disturb her. After what seemed like an eternity, she kissed her hoof with a 'Voila! A masterpiece! Oh, Pinkie, you must see yourself, you look absolutely stunning!'

'Oh, I can't look that good.' I said, rolling my eyes.

'See for yourself.' She handed me a purple mirror. Rarity was right, I looked amazing, if I do say so myself. She had my hair in an elegant updo, with ringlets trickling down. I don't know exactly what she did with my makeup, but I just looked so- elegant. For once in my life, I wasn't a clown, I was a beauty. I was speechless. 'You like it! I'm so glad you like it!' Rarity said. 'Stay here for a moment, I'll get the dresses.'

She came back up with a stack of dresses on her back and delicately set each one down on the bed. I didn't blame her for being so cautious around her creations, I know I was always ridiculously careful around a finished wedding cake at the bakery.

One by one, Rarity helped me into each dress and shot my picture in it. 'Now, try to look serious for this one, darling.' she said as she poked her white head out from behind the camera. I tried, but I just couldn't stop smiling. I was so ecstatic. 'Oh, never mind. Ponies like happy models better anyway.'

When it was finally time to go, Rarity gave me an enormous hug. 'Thank you ever so much for the help. It's been so fun! We really must do this again sometime!' I readily agreed and set off back to Sugarcube Corner, reliving all the parts of such a wonderful day in my head.

When I arrived at the giant gingerbread cottage, The Cakes and their twin foals were already asleep, so I was very careful not to wake them. I went upstairs to my room (The Cakes gave me free room and board because I was their best and only employee.) and got ready for bed. I washed the makeup off and carefully undid my hair and braided it, as my curls would get tangled if I didn't. When I sat down, a familiar tune wafted through the room.

'Hang down your head, my Pinkie!

Hang down your head and cry.

Hang down your head, my Pinkie!

Poor girl, you're bound to die.'

It was a slow, haunting folk song with my my name in the place the song's original condemned man's. The singer's voice was female: rich, dark, and a bit breathy. I spun around to see her. She looked the same as always: my height, my eyes, my cutie mark, my color in a slightly grayer form, and long, pin-straight hair. Pinkamena, right on schedule.

'Oh, what a day, eh Pinkie?' she asked, a wry smile crossing that malevolent face. 'You poor thing, letting Rarity make a fool of you because you need love and attention.'

'That's not even true.' I said, trying to keep my voice down. 'Rarity's my friend.'

'No she isn't. I'm your only real friend. Only I love you.' she reached her hoof out to touch my face, but I avoided her in disgust.

'You aren't real!' I shouted. 'I hate you so much! You torment me, you mock me, and then you say you love me? It doesn't matter anyway because you just aren't real! The doctor said so! The nurse said so! They even said that, if I think you're real, I'll have to go to a facility! I won't be able to see my friends, or my sisters, or anypony! YOU CAN'T BE REAL!' I yelled so loud that my lungs felt ready to burst.

'Oh, can't I?' she purred, and vanished into thin air.

'Pinkie Pie, are you alright?' Mrs. Cake said as she cracked open the door. She looked tired and worried. Her matronly face flushed with concern.

'I'm fine.' I sputtered. 'I just had a nightmare. Sorry.'

'Another one? Oh, you poor baby. Just try to get some sleep.' she said as she closed the door.

I didn't get any sleep though. How could I?"