“Yo Spike wazzup,” Pinkie said without any commas.

Time passed. Rivers flowed, cliffs eroded, glaciers melted.

“Huh,” Pinkie said. “Thought that would work.”

Time passed. Hydrogen hydrogenated into helium, which itself heliumised into life as we know it today. But now, Spike enters Sugarcube Corner.

“Hi, Spike!” Pinkie said.

“Low. What’s down?”

“Wait a second, what are you doing here?”

“I followed my dreams.”

“What?”

“I had a dream where I went here, then we had this exact conversation up until a part where you say ‘that’s weird’, and then I woke up.”

“Huh. That’s weird.”

Spike woke up.

“Fuck,” Spike said, “I really thought it was real life that time.”

Spike woke up.

“Okay, this is just dumb.”

“According to my calculations,” Pinkie said to herself, “Assuming they’re correct, Spike should be arriving within the hour. What to do....”

No consumers came in to give her something to do.

“Why can’t somepony just come in and order a batch of pastries? It used to happen all the time, and now it doesn’t, which is why we’re barely in business anymore. It’s all because of that rival... pastry... who am I foaling, we’re the only place in town. Cake and smaller versions of cake pretending to be completely different foods just aren’t as popular as they used to be.”

Meanwhile, Spike didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Maybe we need to diversify. We already have this sweet counter installed in the counter. I mean we converted the counter into a sweet one. Whatever. But what else could we sell? Maybe we just need to make everything better. Make it addictive. Put drugs in the—no, no, no, that’s a terrible idea. Okay, so assuming we do go under, what am I gonna do? I don’t know what other job I could get.” She abruptly stopped talking for a second. “I expected myself to talk about what other jobs I could get, but I guess that’s kinda the point of what I said.”

A tumbleweed hit the door, but didn’t open it.

“I wish I was hungry. Then at least I could be entertained by food, but I guess standing at a counter doesn’t do much energy-burningwise... I wonder what Carrot and Cup Cake are up to. That was supposed to be Carrot, and Cup Cake, not Carrot and Cup, Cake. Just ‘Cup’ sounds weird to me. It’s probably just me, I don’t know.”

“We can see what they’re doing,” camerapony #13 said. “Switching feed.”

The feed was switched.

“Oh Faust,” Pinkie said, immediately averting her eyes. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m not interested anymore.”

“Just a second, where did the button go, okay, I switched back.”

“Cool.” Pinkie looked back to the feed. The feed promptly showed her looking at the feed, which a second later updated to include both layers of looking, then Spike got out of bed.

“Ooh,” Pinkie said, “Spike’s getting out of bed! Hey, it’s me! I’m talking about Spike getting out of bed!”

ONE HOUR LATER!

Spike entered Sugarcube Corner.

“Hilo,” Pinkie Pie said.

“Hey,” Spike said, “I’m here for the thing.”

“You know Twilight’s not at the treehouse, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I was watchin’ on my iPad and you forgot to lock the door.”

ONE HOUR LATER!

Spike entered Sugarcube Corner tired and heavily breathing, collapsing in the doorway. The door, which opened to the inside, autoclosed as shop doors do and pushed him outside.

“He’s walked three Sparkle-Pie lengths,” Pinkie said. “That’s not that much.”

ONE MINUTE LATER!

Pinkie went to the door and held it open.

“We know you’re not dead, Spike,” she said. “Come on.”

“Fine....”

Spike got up and walked inside. Pinkie went back to her post.

“So what are doin’?” Spike said.

“Y’know. The usual.”

“‘The usual’?”

“Just my job.”

“I thought somepony somewhere would have something planned.”

“Here’s a plan for you: buy a cupcake.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Then you’ll just have to work it off.”

“Can’t I not buy a cupcake?”

“No. Your two options are one, do something interesting, or two, get replaced with Lyra.”

“And getting a cupcake is the only interesting thing I can do?”

“You could buy a different pastry.”

“But I don’t have money. Now let’s see, what do our viewers like?”

“Considering they’re fifteen or over, sex and violence.”

“Well, I don’t know what I can do about sex, but I can kill some stuff.”

“Like?”

“Y’know, a few blades of grass, maybe a dandelion... no, like ponies.”

“But whom would you kill?”

“I dunno, who in Ponyville do we not like?”

“Nopony, really. We could go to Heimville City.”

“Yeah, but then we’ll probably die too.”

“I guess you’re right. Wait, did you just beat me in an argument?”

“It wasn’t really an argument, and is that supposed to mean I’m dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I know whom to kill now.”

“Bring it on, you little... er... my leg!”

Pinkie kick-uppercut Spike really hard. He flew back three metres and landed on his back.

“Owww...” Spike said. “Okay, I surrender.”

“And I need a few Band-Aid brands for my leg.”

SEVERAL MINUTES LATER!

“Welp, I’m all better,” Pinkie said. “You good, Spike?”

“Yeah. Since it’s right off the metaphorical road, I have a question.”

“What?”

“Is anypony religious anymore?”

“I think Rarity’s still Wallist.”

“Cool.”

A tumbleweed rolled across the floor.

“How did that get in here?” Pinkie said.

“As if I would know.”

She returned to her post, rolled the tumbleweed outside, opened the door, and went over to the tumbleweed in reverse order.

“Look,” transcriber #1 said, “This isn’t going anywhere. Just a minute.” She took a phone and pressed all of the buttons at once. “Stupid hooves.”

“You need help with that?” Pinkie said.

“No, I can dial a phone.” She tried again, getting it right. “See?”

“Hello?” said a tangy voice on the other end.

“Can you sack Spike?”

“I was thinking I’d do that at the end of the chapter.”

“Cool.” She hung up.

“What was that about?” Pinkie said.

“You’re getting sacked at the end of the chapter.”

“What?!” Pinkie said, banging on the counter particularly hard. “Ow.”

“Not you,” transcriber #1 said, “Spike.”

“What?!” Spike said, banging on the counter particularly hard. “Ow. What did I do?”

“Nothing. That’s why you’re getting sacked.”

“But you put me with Pinkie Pie! I only work with Twilight!”

“Well, Pinkie did fine.”

“Well, I can’t be sacked!”

“Because you quit?”

“Exactly!” He stormed out.

“What now?” Pinkie said.

“End the chapter.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 142: Court Cases Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 7 Minutes