Pinkie fiddled with the various buttons and controls on my car's dashboard, all the while, her tongue was sticking out in a quite adorable way.

"Is... this it?" She asked, pressing the very center of the steering wheel.

She got her reply in the form of the deafeningly-loud car horn.

"Nope." I replied, still cupping my ears.

"How 'bout this lever thingy?" she asked again, tugging at the gas pedal.

"Wait no--" I shouted as she pressed back down on the pedal, sending the car lurching forwards. I really should've taken the keys out of the car first...

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Agh! Don't scream inside my head, Pinkie! you know it hurts more that way!

But she didn't hear me. Either because she was currently in a burning wreckage of a car somewhere down the street, or because she was having too much fun to give a care.

Luckily, it was the latter. In fact, I'd have to say, for someone who'd only barely learned how the gas and brake pedals work, she was great!

And by that, I mean that the car was in a not-so-smoldering heap at the end of the road, Pinkie triumphantly posing on top.

At least it's insured.

Author's Notes:

Lesson? Don't let Pinkie drive your car. If said car survives, then she'd probably turn it into a rocket or something.