“You know what?” Pinkie said to nobody in particular. “Sugarcube Corner’s recorded losses for the past two months and it doesn’t look like it’s turning around. Wait, ‘recorded losses’? I’m Pinkie Pie, I don’t say stuff like that. What’s happening to me?! The same thing that’s been happening to everypony in Ponyville for the past two years? Seriously, everypony’s the same now. Um, yeah, we’re losing money. The Cakes are losing money. But I don’t know what to do. What else would I be good at? I can bake... and bake... and save the world... bake... but there’s no demand for world saviours at the momen—at the moment? I’m Pinkie Pie! What the cruddy fuck is wrong with me? But I should be able to find another baking job. There’s a combination bakery/flat just... you know... over... well, I could always live separately. I should be able to find another job, though. I mean, I’m pretty marketable outside of Ponyville. They’d be like “Hey, one of our pastry chefs is one of those six ponies who saved the world!”. That’d draw ponies in. And I’m sure they’d pay me enough. I’m pretty—yeah, we went over that. Not meaning they’d like me because I’m pretty. Am I pretty? That reminds me, I haven’t convinced myself that I don’t love Rainbow Dash. There needs to be something about her that annoys me. No there doesn’t, I like everypony, I’m Pinkie Pie. There has to be a warm, fuzzy, special feeling like with Zecora. Um, anyway, I should do a walky chapter again since... I... well, because it’s lighter out than last time, so I’ll actually make it. Right, camerapony #1?”

“It’s winter solstice.”

“Well, shut up.”

And so she set off for potentially perilous adventure, but most likely not perilous. I mean, when you’re going to the Price✓Rong, do you expect to get ambushed by bears along the way? That’s what it would be like. But as she was peacefully walking in some normal forest path land with nothing obvious to worry about, a crazy mare jumped at her from behind a bush.

“RA—” was all a now on the ground Pinkie could say before being hit in the head eight times with a pipe.

Pinkie Pie woke up in the boot of a currently moving car, mutetaped with both sets of hooves duct taped together. She instinctively banged on the door like it was going to open, then realised that revealing her awakeness was probably a bad idea.

“Are we there yet?” a filly said.

“We’re pretty close,” said a stallion who sounded a little hoarse.

Right then and there, Pinkie Pie realised the truth and accepted Brian Goldner as her lord and saviour. Okay, not really. What really happened was a bump so bad that she got thrown into the boot’s ceiling and knocked out again.

The next time she woke up, she was bondaged to a bed in a bedroom featuring a door, a window, beautiful mahogany flooring, and other things but they’re not important to the plot. Also important to the plot was the same mare from before, named Mary, standing next to her.

“Is she...” Mary mumbled. “Are you awake?” she didn’t mumble.

“Um... no....”

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“I’m always lying.”

“Can’t you choose a less cliché paradox?”

“I’m too asleep for that.”

“I’m getting him whether you’re asleep or not.”

Mary left the room.

“Is this the kind of thing I’d go through every day if you had a car?” Rainbow said to Twilight, who was holding her on the couch.

“Why would I need a car?”

“Answer my question.”

“Seriously, can you imagine me driving? Like, you driving is okay, but me? That looks weird.”

“Answer my question.”

“No.”

“Answer the fu—”

“My answer’s no.”

“Oh.” Twilight didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry.”

Twilight held her more tightly in response.

“I don’t feel like it.”

Twilight slid her hoof up to the back of Rainbow’s head.

“I don’t feel like it.”

Twilight forced her into a kiss anyway and was almost immediately pushed away, cartoonily falling to laid downness on the couch.

“What’s your problem?” Twilight said.

“Don’t rape me.”

“I wan’t gonna.”

“Rape in the any kind of sexual assault sense.”

“You never mind when Applejack rapes you.”

“Yeah, but that’s diff—”

Twilight laid back up. “It’s a double standard and it’s more evidence that you only like her more than me because you think she’s hot.”

“Twilight, you know that’s not true.”

“I know, but hope if I tell myself hard enough, then I’ll believe it.”

“Is this gonna be a joke about religion?”

“Yep.”

“You can fuck me as violently as you want after the show, okay?”

“I’ll be patient.”

“Feh,” said a policepony who was part of the police force of the town Pinkie was in through a mouthful of doughnut, “Fid wi do smfn but Finki Buh?”

“Fe’ll b fwinn,” another policepony said through a mouthful of doughnut.

Meanwhile during the commercial break, Pinkie had one of those times where you freak out about global warming or peak oil for a few seconds then go back to thinking about whether you remembered to put that connection on your love quiver.

A stallion came through the door of the room of Pinkie of Pie. He was grey with a somewhat feminine, long, dark grey mane, the kind of manestyle you might see on a stereotypical noble cavalry knight storybook hero. If you were on Earth or a dragon. Cavalry isn’t a very common theme in quadruped-produced works, obviously.

“The name’s Rapy McFoalnap,” he said. He kicked the door closed behind him.

“Is that your pre- or post-cutie mark name? Either way, it doesn’t really make sense. Unless that’s what the cucumber of your cutie mark is about.”

“It’s zucchini, and it’s about farming.”

“Sorry. So can you let me go and then you won’t have to be arrested and I won’t have to be traumatised and pregnant?”

“Act more distressed.”

“I’m Pinkie Pie.”

“Act more distressed.”

Pinkie Pie tried for a few seconds to do fake tears, but it didn’t work. There were plenty of sad things to get distressed about—Zecora, starving ponies in Afrinstar, the probability that she was going to be raped in the next several minutes—but she was Pinkie Pie, and nothing would get her down.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she settled for.

He put his hooves on her forelegs and stared at her to seem intimidating, seemingly forgetting the point I just made in the previous paragraph. “You’ll have to do better than that if you don’t want me to—”

Someone knocked the front door.

“I’ll get it.”

He went down, or more like forwards, to the door and opened it to see an angry-looking Fluttershy, who was holding a piece of cardstock. She swung the cardstock to give him a really bad paper cut in his leg, to which he responded by putting his hoof over the wound and falling over in pain. Fluttershy flew into the hallway of the room shaped like a T with a really wide horizontal part and began randomly opening doors until she found the bedroom Pinkie was in.

“Fluttershy?!” Pinkie said.

Fluttershy dropped the cardstock and started to undo Pinkie, having the right hooves left to do when Mary came through the door. She turned around and picked up the cardstock.

“Why are you holding that piece of paper so threateningly?” Mary said. “It’s paper.”

Fluttershy gave the answer, causing Mary to say “Oh fff...”, put her hoof over the wound, and fall over in pain. Fluttershy did the last two with even more implied haste than before and Pinkie got up on the floor.

“What about the foal?” Pinkie said.

“Come on.”

They ran outside the room, hilariously trampling Mary, but running into a standing up and front door-guarding Rapy. He took so long to decide who to attack that Pinkie made the first move, an uppercut that left him with an at least dislocated lower jaw, causing him to fall over in pain. They ran outside and went two metres away from the front door.

“What about the foal?” Pinkie said.

“She’s, um... well....”

“Yeah?”

“She’s dead.”

“Do you know for sure? Maybe she looked dead to you, but do you know?”

“She was decapitated.”

Pinkie looked around for a few seconds. The place was one of those dozen houses between some farmland towns.

“Do you know where we are?” she said.

“We’re about thirty kilometres south of Ponyville.”

“How’d you find me?”

“There was a graphic on the telly.”

“And nopony else cared enough to rescue me?”

“What would you have done if you saw me in that situation?”

Pinkie looked downward. “...I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t think badly of yourself. Everypony else—”

“I know what everypony else would do. You rescued me and I wouldn’t’ve done anything.”

“I’m a special case—”

“I know, it’s not their job, nopony else, blah. I’m just sorry, okay?”

“But it’s not a normal thing to—”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not expected—”

“Sorry.”

The 18:85 light, or lack thereof, was all that accompanied the silence.

“Can you see okay?” Fluttershy said.

“Yeah.”

“I remember I came from that way, so... should we start walking back? Call poli—”

Rapy opened the door, holding the cardstock in his mouth, reducing their immediate options to either run or run. They chose run. It was a short chase, however, with Rapy slipping on some ice in his first ten metres, his quadrupedness not being of any use as he fell to the ground and stayed there. They slowed to undramatic walking pace.

“It’ll probably be past three before we get to Ponyville,” Fluttershy said at an unspecified distance along the road. “Where will we sleep?”

“We saved the world, I’m sure ponies’ll give us stuff.”

“I think we’re too near Ponyville for that.”

“Do you know what towns this road goes through?”

“No.”

“‘Kay. Should we call police or something? Or, you know, go over to police and tell them?”

“I’m too worried about them chasing us. Not the police, the... you know. Besides, these things happen all the time and they get sorted out, right?”

“I just feel like....”

“I know, me too, but I’m worried.”

“Maybe she has a point,” some policepony said. “I should go out there and do police stuff.”

Many policeponies had this mentality, and within minutes police stuff was going well at the house that’s no longer important.

“Should we sleep or should we just try to stay up?” Pinkie said.

“I don’t know. I guess we should try to stay up as long as we can, but if you have a reason to sleep, then....”

“What if we fall asleep in some ditch, though? Anything could happen to us.”

“I guess we’ll just have to take that chance.”

Due to the darkness, Pinkie fell off a steep slope and broke her neck, dying in under two minutes. No, not really. Exactly an hour later, this conversation happened.

“You feel okay?” Pinkie Pie said.

“We can keep going.”

They pressed on past a couple more pathetically small towns, passing by Pitjantjatjara’s Flower Shop without fainting in their tracks at the low, low prices. Pitjantjatjara’s Flower Shop: it has really low prices.

“You feel okay?” Pinkie Pie said.

“We can keep going.”

A couple more hours of nothing later, they came up to a sudden one-metre drop. They looked at each other sleepily.

“What you lookin’ me that like?” Pinkie said, sounding slightly drunk.

“Why you... looking... me....”

“We’re gonna... fall slope... break... neck....”

They both fell asleep.

They woke up on Twilight’s bunkbed, Fluttershy on the top bunk and Pinkie on the bottom one. Not that they woke up at the exact same time, Fluttershy got up first.

“I’m at Twilight’s?” she thought in words. “Thank Faust....”

She got out of the bed and out of the bedroom. Spike was standing right outside the bedroom doing nothing.

“Hello, Spike,” Fluttershy acknowledged his existence.

“Hi. I’ll get Twilight.”

“Okay.”

Ten thousand years later, what was formerly Ponyville was now an archeological dig site in a barren, slightly snowy tundra.

“Ma,” a stallion wearing some pretty standard wintry clothes said, “Bidda hereme.”

A mare wearing some pretty standard wintry clothes, except for her hat which had a propeller on top, came over there. “Quhm?”

“Glard tiso.” He held up a triangle of clay that was coloured stereotypical clay orange.

“odm!”

“Quhm cogu?”

“Seeta!”

Wait, um, that’s a little too far forward. So Twilight came into that room with the books.

“Hi, Fluttershy.”

“Hello... Spike told me he was ‘getting you’, so....”

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re alive, obviously. You feel okay?”

“I feel fine.”

“How’s Pinkie Pie?”

“She’s still asleep, but she’s breathing, and I only looked at her for a moment but I don’t think she’s hurt.”

“I’ll take a closer look at her.”

“What if you wake her up?”

“I won’t because magic.”

Twilight went up to the bedroom, Fluttershy following her because it felt right. Twilight then stared at Pinkie Pie for a moment, rolled her over, and stared at her a bit more.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Twilight said.

“That’s good.”

“Really?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, bad things happened too recently.”

Eventually, Pinkie woke up, but it wasn’t as interesting. But what was as interesting was what I had for dinner. Get it? Dinner? Anyway, nothing happened. Wait!

“How did you find us?” Fluttershy said.

“I recognised where you were from an epic adventure I had once.”

Okay, that’s it. Next Chapter: Chapter 15X: ‘012 Faustmas SpeciaI Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 9 Minutes