Pinkie Pie sat behind the counter in Sugar Cube Corner like she did every other day of the week, except this time she instead of being in a good jolly old mood like she usually is. She was stuck in her agitated, all joyfulness deprived look. She sat with her head resting on the counter as she impatiently tapped her right hoof in a rhythmic beat.

She released a flustered sigh as her gaze drifted to ceiling, rolling her eyes she glanced over at the freshly baked red velvet cupcakes that sat idly to her right. Waiting for a lucky customer to come in and purchase one of them to enjoy.

“Are you done yet?” She twirled her head and groaned. Pinkie sighed once again; she buried her face in her hooves. Raising both forelegs she covered her ears and began to rock side to side. Over time she shook her head and began to mumble one of her songs to herself, trying to blot out this annoying voice that kept speaking to her. Describe every little action to her; the voice began to get faster and louder. Growing even more irritating with every second, driving her ever so closely to insanity until finally it drove her over the edge.

“Would you just. Shut. Up!” She stared up at the ceiling her eyes narrow and her brows furrowed in anger. If this pink mare could fire lasers, already this building would be crumpling to pieces. “If I could shoot lasers, you wouldn’t be here right now!” She snapped at the ceiling, Pinkie gritted her teeth. Moments later when she realized there was nothing she could do she sat solemnly on the ground.

“Pinkie, sweetie… who are you talking to?” Mrs. Cake called from the kitchen.

“I’m talking to the Narrator!” She replied back as she flung her hooves up in frustration.

“The Narra–what?” Mrs. Cake popped her head out from the door with a raised eyebrow.

Pinkie faced Mrs. Cake. “The Narrator, he just won’t shut up!” Pinkie exclaimed.

Mrs. Cake’s confusion deepened. “Pinkie… I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t hear anypony else beside me and you.”

Pinkie took a deep breath and stood back up onto her hooves. “That’s just it though, no pony else can hear him except for me.” She said as she began to pace the ro– “Can you please be quiet for three seconds!”

1…

2…

3…

Pinkie growled in anger as she began to pace even faster, turning back to Mrs. Cake who was now talking to Mr. Cake. Pinkie doesn’t know when Mr. Cake arrived or that if the Narrator just decided to plop him in here just so he could get along with the plot. But Pinkie just decided to go along with it.

“Pinkie,” Mr. Cake said as he turned to face her. “Have you been…? I dunno, partying with the wrong crowd late–”

“What? Nonononono… I would never allow such ponies to do things like that at one of my parties.” Pinkie answered not even knowing what Mr. Cake was going to even imply, Pinkie turned her attention back towards the ceiling. “What do you mean I don’t know what he was implying… of course I know what he was implying he was in implying that I took drugs…”

“What!?” Mr. Cake took a sudden step back in surprise. “I wasn’t implying that you were taking drugs. I was implying that you were drinking with the colts from down the block!”

Pinkie knitted her brown and looked back at the ceiling. “I swear, I’m going to explode if you don’t stop right now… I’m gonna…”

“Pinkie, dear, please tell us who are you speaking to–”

“The dang Narrator! He’s been driving me nuts since I started my shift, and he wouldn’t leave me alone since! He keeps explaining everything I’m doing, or going to say, even your guy’s emotions towards me!”

The Cakes took a nervous step back. “Pinkie, there is no Narrator… you’re just having one of your… your…” Mr. Cake didn’t know how to put it. “Pinkie, have you been having any kind of strange feelings lately… like warmth or–”

“Oh nonononono, Mr. Cake it’s nothing like that. Not like that at all, you see it’s like having a little monkey or something in the back of your head. Describing every little thing you are doing, like how much icing you’re putting on your cupcake, or how long you placed it in the oven to bake!” Pinkie explained at the speed of light.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake shared a worried look with each other. “Pinkie,” Mrs. Cake began. “Could you excuse us for just a minute?” She asked.

Pinkie nodded her head. Knowing that even if she left the room these two wouldn’t be in complete privacy, especially earlier this morning when both of them were upstairs in the bedroom… Pinkie shuddered at the thought of having to go through that part of the morning, knowing that every last second of that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Pinkie got up and went into the kitchen.

“This girl really needs help.” Mrs. Cake said right as she thought Pinkie was out of ear shot. “Every day this mare keeps getting weirder and weirder, one moment she’s freaking out because her friends supposedly forgot about her birth day. Now she claims to be hearing a voice in her head!”

“I thought she was always able to hear voices in her head.” Mr. Cake snorted.

“I’m being serious, Carrot, this girl needs help. Ever since the day we hired her she’s only been strange… Dear Celestia, I’m surprised she was even able to take care of the kids… let alone not completely destroy the shop.”

“Well we could always let her go…” Mr. Cake suggested.

“We can’t just kick her out onto the street, what’s she going to do then.” Mrs. Cake said as she looked her husband in the eye.

“I don’t know scream about the voices in her head while she walks down the block… maybe go completely insane or something… maybe even start her own bakery… I dunno.”

Pinkie sat up against the door, her eyes filled with sadness and her mane completely deflated. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, let alone be surprised on how she was hearing this. During the time of waiting she found herself in the basement, yet she could still hear the Cake’s voices moving from the upstairs and down into her ears. Even now she could still hear that voice coming from the narrator, that deep and wanting to be calm soothing voice yet to her it was annoying, ignorant, and cynical. It taunted her; it described her situation as if everything was calm. Yet it wasn’t!

It was driving her completely bonkers, she wanted to leave and runaway. Pinkie fell to her knees and curled up into a ball in the corner of the pitch black basement. Rubbing her eyes she felt tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. Stifling back a hiccup she buried deep within herself trying her hardest to keep the taunting voice of the Narrator from hurting her anymore.

Pushing my chair away from the computer I glared at my screen with a raised eyebrow and a bud light in my right hand. Taking a sip I glanced at my can then back at the screen, swallowing the lump that has formed in my throat I spoke. “Well now I just feel bad…”

Author's Notes:

Hello readers, I know it's a been awhile. But I had trouble figuring out ways to approach this character and chapter. I hope you and enjoyed this, and please share with friends and hit that like button if you haven't already. It helps keep me motivated and in a good mood.

One last thing I just want to thank you all for helping this story reach one hundred likes, was going to do a special but seeing that it's already late for that, I decided to throw this at ya'll. Now like always post in the comment section on what character you'd like to see next.

This has been Dark Nebula and like always, have a nice day!