Dusk Shine knew that he was in a dream.

He was aware of the fact that Pinkie had knocked him out. He had silently cursed her name while slipping into unconsciousness. He had expected Pinkie Pie’s mind to be a sugarcoated landscape of nonsense and madness. Also, he had no idea how the unavoidable presence of Pinkamena would affect his stay in the pink pony’s psyche. That said, he mentally readied his mind for the insanity to come. He was prepared for anything.

What he wasn’t prepared for was nothing.

When he opened his eyes, nothing met his gaze. A tremendous amount of nothing, in fact. As far as the eye could see, nothing could be found. One could even speculate that it was an infinite amount of nothing. It wasn’t even the black-abyss-of-darkness kind of nothing, it was the white-landscape-of-boredom kind of nothing. He was completely alone in a desolate wasteland of blandness.

“Hi there!”

Correction: He was almost alone.

Dusk Shine turned around to meet the eyes of his companion. “Pinkie Pie? How could you do something so rash as pulling me into your dream? Do you know how dangerous that is? And for that matter, why’s everything so white? Where are we? And why do we suddenly both have wings?”

“Well, we look like this because we’re in a dream, duh!” the peculiarly palette-swapped party pony proclaimed. “Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Well, why the bland landscape?” asked Dusk Shine the alicorn. “I thought your dream would be... you know, like you”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Pinkie laughed. “All my dreams start out this way: Just a blank canvas that I can do anything with. Watch this.” Spontaneously, the world around them changed. They were now located in the top car on a huge ferris wheel. Dusk looked out the window to see a sunset on a beautiful dockside carnival. Down below, imaginary children were having fun with their imaginary families, going on rides and stuffing their faces with the junk food they bought at the stands. Fireworks were slowly performing against the setting sun and the dimly starlight sky, bursting into gorgeous, faraway explosions that sometimes made shapes like hearts or letters that spelled out ‘DUSK & PINKIE IS BEST SHIP.’

“Popcorn?” Pinkie Pie offered, holding forward a box of blue-colored popcorn kernels. “It’s blueberry-flavored.”

Dusk shook his head in disbelief. “How are you doing all this?”

“Doing what?”

“This!” he yelled, gesturing to everything that resided outside the ferris wheel car. “How are you controlling everything in your dream?”

“What’s the matter with that?” questioned Pinkie. “Can’t everypony do that?”

“You have to have years of experience to have lucid dreaming, and even then, you’ve got to be asleep for a few hours before you can even try it,” Dusk explained. “But you, Pinkie, you just took control of everything the moment you closed your eyes. That’s completely impossible!”

The earth-pony-turned-pegasus broke into a grin. “Well, well, well, I learned something new today! Let’s celebrate with some soda.” A couple bottles of bubblegum-flavored Sparkle Colas appeared in Pinkie’s hooves.

Dusk narrowed his eyes. “I want wake up. Now.”

“Hey, this dream-date will cheer you up, I guarantee it!” she said sweetly.

“I don’t want to be ‘cheered up’ by you,” Dusk snorted. “I want to wake up, go upstairs, and get back to reading the chapter of The Geometry of Modern Architecture I left off on.”

A distant, gloomy frown crossed Pinkie’s snow-white face. “But I thought you liked spending time with me. Don’t you like me, Dusky?”

“...As a friend,” Dusk answered, finishing Pinkie’s statement.

Pinkie quivered her lip, almost looking depressed. “I j-just wanted us to have some special time together. *sniff* I thought this would be a nice surprise. Don’t you like surprises, Dusk?”

Dusk was about to urge Pinkie not to cry, but something struck him odd. “Wait... say that last part again.”

“I said, don’t you like surprises?”

Why does that sound so familiar? he thought to himself. “Pinkie, I need to ask again... Why do we have wings? Why aren’t you pink?”

Before Pinkie Pie could answer, a large and threatening black hole opened up a good three centimeters in front of Dusk’s face, and he was sucked in with the rest of the false reality around him.

Dusk’s eyes fluttered open as he gasped for air. He was lying on a surgical bed with all four of his legs bolted down with steel restraints, along with his newly-acquired wings. As he looked about his new enviroment, a great sense of fear flooded his thoughts.

The room was flooded wall-to-wall with weapons. Knives, saws, axes and swords of every shape and size were hung as decoration, mostly with edges that were either sharpened perfectly or serrated. Surgical tools accompanied them, showing off very painful-looking prongs or needle-like tips. Whips and crops were also present, and it was quite easy to imagine the sound that each one would make when snapped on some unlucky soul’s backside.

The greatest horror was yet to come, however. Dead carcasses of ponies were stuffed and put on display in random parts of the torture room. Each one had label displaying their name and a minor detail about them.

Vanilla Split: She tripped us once.

Sandy Saddles: He never laughed at our jokes.

Radish Salad: He short-changed us at the market.

Upsy-Daisy: I’ve always hated her name anyway.

The list goes on and on. It was also worth mentioning that each stuffed pony had something horrible and grotesquely unique about him/her. Someone named Zippity-Doo-Da had nails hammered into his eyes. Another by the name of Kindred Spirit had a hacksaw lodged halfway into her back. One named Tax Return had his ribcage forcefully torn open and his organs ripped out, leaving nothing but an empty, shriveled shell of a pony.

But the most noticeable thing about the room was the ceiling. Dusk was lying flat on his back, after all, so it was the first thing that he saw. It had an enormous black poster dominating it, and a message was printed on it with big, capital, blood-red letters.

“Hello Dusk, you insufferable prick,” said a voice that Dusk did not want to hear. “I’d say ‘Step into my parlor,’ but I guess that’s already done with, don’t you agree?”

Desperate to escape, Dusk attempted to teleport. Much to his dismay, his horn didn’t even respond. It was as if the nerve endings connected to it had been shut down.

“Trying to get away?” the voice laughed mockingly. “That’s adorable. There’s one thing you need to remember during your stay in me and Pinkie’s mind, Dusk: When you’re in my half, you play by my rules.” With a whir of machinery, the table was slowly tilted upwards, positioning Dusk forward instead of facing the ceiling. Bravely, Dusk Shine stared into the face of his captor...

...who was a tad shorter than he remembered.

Pinkamena stood there, staring menacingly. But, instead of the fully-grown psychotic mare that Dusk was used to, she was a tiny filly, barely eight years old and absent of a cutie mark. However, she was decked out in a full dominatrix leather getup, complete with metal spikes in every conceivable place.

“You look... err... different,” said Dusk, trying his best not to laugh at Pinkamena’s new figure. “New haircut?”

“Real funny,” she deadpanned. “I can’t really help it, you know. In dreams, we all take our true forms.” She raised an eyebrow. “...And you seem to be an alicorn in your dreams. Gee, god complex much?”

“Says the filly dressed in biker fetish.”

“SHUT UP!” barked Pinkamena through her teeth. “Obviously, you’ve forgotten which one of us is strapped to a table.” She took a hacksaw from the weapon rack. “Are you going to keep quiet and listen to what I have to say, or shall we find out how painful it is to lose a horn?”

“Shutting up now.”

“Good,” she said with a satisfied smirk. “Now, I’ve taken a notice that you’re trying to give Pinkie a hint.” She toyed with blade in her hooves. “That you don’t want to be as intimate as she wants. That you just want to be ‘friends.’ Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

She grimaced. “I don’t really think she’d be happy with that answer, Dusk.”

“So I chose another girl to be with,” Dusk said. “Is that really a crime? I was trying to explain it to her, but you interrupted me with that freaky black hole thing.”

“I interrupted you because you were hurting her,” Pinkamena shot back with dirty look. “You were laying it down pretty blunt. That’s low, even for scum like you.”

Dusk gave a tired sigh. “Look, I’m sorry that I was hard on her. Can’t we talk this out? I’d like to go home.”

“And do you know what I’d like to do?” she snapped. “I’d like to test out this new device I have that grinds a stallion’s testicales into hamburgers. But sadly, we don’t always get what we want.” She looked directly into Dusk’s eyes. “Instead, I’m going to offer you two options.

“Option One: You make it your life’s goal to make Pinkie Pie the happiest girl in Equestria. Follow through on this dumbass date she’s hoping for. Buy her chocolates afterward. Give her flowers. Tell her ‘I love you.’ All that cheesy stuff. Give her a baby if she asks for one. She’s always talking about a how much she wants to raise a foal.

“What the hay, you can even keep that spineless wreck of a mare that you claim to be in relationship with, as long as you keep you and Pinkie’s thing a secret from her. All that matters is that you spoil Pinkie rotten. Or else.”

Dusk was feeling particularly frustrated lately. For the first time in his life, he had a girlfriend, and he was NOT going to give that up easily. He was not going to relinquish his free will. He was going to love whom he wanted, and how wanted, and that was final.

“Or else you’ll kill me??” he challenged. “Or maybe drive me insane by torturing me in this chamber? You can’t do anything here, this is just a dream. Contrary to popular belief, if you die in your dreams, you do not die for real. You just wake up. You can’t do anything to me in here.”

Pinkamena was silent for a while, staring at the floor. “If you break Pinkie’s heart, she’ll disappear. She will lose all hope she has and fade into nothingness.

“And I will be alone.”

After another pause, she looked up, a spark in her eyes that emitted terror and anguish. “And the pain you will experience then will be very real, Dusk. Oh, I wouldn’t kill you. At first. No, that would be too easy. Too simple. Too merciful. First, I would torture and kill every single individual you’ve ever loved. Your friends, your family, and even that despicable dragon you keep around will perish in every slow and agonizing way you can think of. I will even dispose every method I have to kill the princesses themselves, just because you found the space in your heart to love them too. I will make you watch all of this, even if it means tying you up and gnawing off your eyelids with my bare teeth.

“And when all of Ponyville and Canterlot are in ashes, when you have nothing left to love, I will drag you into the deepest, darkest cave I can find and do whatever I please with you for the rest of your days. You will have to re-define pain. You will have to re-define sorrow. And when I’m feeling in the mood, you’ll be sorry that the only thing that I haven’t amputated from your body was your dick. And when you finally beg me to stop countless times, despite losing your tongue long ago and having all your teeth pulled out one by one; I might consider feeding you alive to the rats, piece by piece. So Dusk, will it be Option One or Option Two?”

Dusk was pale as a ghost. He was only 50% sure that he didn’t wet himself. At last, he worked up the nerve to speak.

“*gulp* Can you give me some time to think about it?”

“Not gonna happen,” she said as she shook her head. “I’m not the type of pony to beat around the bush. That’s not my style. You’re going to choose, and you’re going to choose now.”

“Can’t I just tell Pinkie that I’m sorry?”

“Not good enough, Dusk,” she said. “She’s going to get her feelings hurt, one way or another. The only way is to love her.”

“But it wouldn’t be love,” argued Dusk. “It would all just be fake! Couldn’t you help me convince her to understand?”

“Hm... Nah, I’d rather just make you suffer if you refuse her.”

“You’re a monster!” Dusk cried out.

“So I’m told.”

“I can’t believe Pinkie could come up with something like you!” he continued. “She’s so sweet and innocent. She loves to spread joy and happiness, while all you do is... whatever you did to those stuffed ponies over there! How does a pony become so bipolar? What happened to you?”

*WHACK!*

“My balls!”

Ahh... Pinkamena thought, Now, that was satisfying. I was wondering when he’d say ‘What.’ She faced Dusk. “You really don’t get it, do you? Pinkie didn’t create me, Dusk.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m the original design.”

The purple alicorn’s eyes widened. “What?” was all he could say.

Pinkamena was just about to raise the crowbar again, but then she popped out of existence like a soap bubble. Dusk waited quietly in the room for a moment, his jaw hanging slack.

“...Huh?”

Gradually, the basement of death began to shift. The walls of weapons twisted shape and color, changing into something more familiar. The surgical bed that Dusk Shine was strapped to faded into dust, releasing him much to his gratefulness and confusion. Eventually, the transformation was complete.

Dusk Shine was sitting at a table in Sugarcube Corner. Judging from the night sky that could be seen out the window, the time was roughly late in the evening. The normally brightly-lit and crowded restaurant was now empty and was lighted by dim candles. Soft piano music could be heard in the background, but Dusk couldn’t locate the source. The table he was sitting at was set for two, with its centerpiece being a small Poison Joke flower in a vase.

Pinkie Pie strided through the door, still possessing her white coat and wings. The yellow curls of her mane bounced as she helped herself to a seat.

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” she said, looking idly at the dessert menu. (Which, of course, was the only menu.) “One minute I’m on a date with you, and the next Pinkamena’s locked me inside a teensy-weensy box with eighteen gazillion kinds of locks on it. Good thing I’ve watched all those prison escape movies, or you’d be in serious trouble!”

“Pinkie... we need to talk,” Dusk said, shifting his weight in the chair. “Pinkamena told me some things.”

“What?” she said, looking up from the menu. “The whole ‘two options’ thing? Don’t worry, you don’t need to pretend to love me, ‘cause I’m sure that you’ll eventually develop feelings for my comic relief-err... odd and quirky antics by the end! Besides, if you were going to choose Fluttershy and Fluttershy alone, the nonspecific deity wouldn’t be so blatant about your affections toward her back in the first time you got to Ponyville! I mean, if you’re going to write a harem story, you shouldn’t be as so stupid as to reveal the winning girl in the first scene she’s in, right? So obviously, you becoming my special somepony ought to be the big twist!”

The two ponies were quiet for a minute, then Pinkie slapped her forehead.

“DARN IT, I BROKE THE YOU-KNOW-WHAT AGAIN!”

“That wasn’t what I was talking about, Pinkie,” said Dusk, who had thankfully decided not to give what Pinkie just said much thought. “Pinkamena said something about ‘being the original design.’”

Pinkie Pie’s face fell. “Oh,” she muttered. “That part.”

A waiter came in, possessing a remarkable resemblance to Mr. Cake with a waxed mustache and a tuxedo. “And what will we be ordering tonight, madame?”

“Give us some of tonight’s wine special,” Pinkie said glumly, still thinking about the subject that Dusk brought up. “And a jumbo-size triple-banana sundae to split, please.”

Of course, since this was a dream, the dish took approximately a nothingth of a second to prepare. Pinkie took a swig from her wineglass and began to speak.

“Make yourself comfortable Dusky-wusky, because it’s time for an origin story...”

“Dusk?” Spike called out, descending the steps to the basement. “Duuusk!”

“We should’ve checked here first,” said Trixie, following Spike and absent-mindedly sweeping her cape. “He’s always down here working on some new experiment.”

“Dusk, are you down here?” called the dragon again. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he saw Dusk Shine and Pinkie Pie sleeping on the floor hooked up to a machine that Spike immediately recognized.

“Oh no,” he said aloud, staring at the scene in front of him.

“What?” said Trixie, descending the last of the steps. “What is it? What’s that thing that Dusk and the pink annoying one are wired to?”

“It’s a Dream Jumping Device,” Spike answered, his voice laced with despair. “And Pinkie’s attached to the host end.”

“The host end?”

“It means Dusk is now in Pinkie’s mind!” he said, panic taking over him slowly. “Who knows how long he’ll last in there!”

“Well, how do we wake them up?” asked Trixie. “The Great and Powerful Trixie can’t afford to learn the secrets of magic with a mentor that’s been driven insane!”

“Well, I remember something about Dusk’s dad telling us that you can’t just pinch them or pull the plug. That’s sort of like performing a lobotomy with a dull spoon; they’re going to get hurt that way.”

“Well, what do we have to do?” said Trixie frantically.

“We call in the best expert we know.”

There was a knock on the door of the Royal Bedroom That Shan’t be Disturbed During Daylight Hours. (Which was located a corridor down from a door with its own personal cake slot installed.)

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” the voice of a guard rang out.

In response, there was a low, unearthly groan.

“It’s urgent, Your Grace! It demands your immediate attention! Please, get out of bed!”

If you listened closely, you could hear a barely audible voice complaining about how every crisis happens during the day, followed by snoring.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, I’m going to keeping knocking at this door until you answer!”

After four straight minutes of seemingly endless knocking, Princess Luna swung open the door open so hard, it broke off its hinges and shattered on impact with the wall.

“SOMEPONY HAD BETTER BE DYING!!!” Luna hollered, putting all her morning crankiness into her vocal chords. “BECAUSE IF THIS ISN’T IMPORTANT, WE SHALL HAVE THEE COURT-MARTIALED FOR HARASSING OUR SLEEPING SCHEDULE!”

The guard winced, staring into the face of an angry immortal goddess of darkness. He had to gulp down the lump in his throat before he could speak.

“You have a letter.”

Author's Notes:

Yeah, you all knew a visit from Luna was inevitable.

Sorry about Pinkie/Surprise’s fourth-wall breaking. I swear, that girl is an addict.