Moments before

“Party cannons?”

“Rolled out!”

“Party cannon song?”

“Polka’d out!”

“Moves?”

“Busted out!”

Mayhem reigns around the two party ponies. All have succumbed to their power, persuaded to party with wild dances, whistled ditties, and whisked desserts. In the rare instance where raging recreation threatens to recede, an opened present explodes in a shower of confetti, releasing half a dozen more presents and pinatas and pieces of parmesan cheese. In unlucky cases (or where it’s especially needed) this results in a presen-ception of presents popping out of presents and presenting panicking partygoers a placating panacea to their problems.

Needless to say, Pinkie Pie loves every second of it. The glitz, the glamor, the grandeur; has she ever hosted a party this epic?! She’s a bit jealous of how smoothly her partymate duplicated that silly Sombrero’s duplicating technique, but it shouldn’t matter how mean a pony is if you’re using their style in the right way, right? Besides, she did the same thing with hats, it can’t be that hard to copy. What’s frustrating (and a blast at the same time!) is the metric tonne of jokes she’s come up with, but he just comes up with an imperial ton and takes the cake right back! It’s so unfair! But she’ll show him, she always does!

“This is it,” Pinkie Pie narrates to herself from atop the train car. Her tubanjaccordidrum might as well have been an extension of her hooves for how naturally the music comes, dancing along to the improvised rendition of the Crystal Kingdom Anthem. “Are you ready to decide the greatest party planner, not just in Equestria but in all the world?” She smirks as her eyebrows furrow. “Or are you boneless?”

“Nopony calls me boneless,” Not Boneless retorts. “Right, Boneless?” The rubber chicken on his back stays comically flopped to the side. He turns back to her, spurs jingling, and strums a quick ditty on his accordion. “And I was ready before I was born.”

With a grin to end all grins she begins the feud to end all feuds. Faster and faster she goes, matched beat for beat by the orange stallion opposite her. Their instruments heat up, scalding hot to hold. He uses sprays of water from trick flowers and trick shirts and trick buckets to keep his accordion cool. She relies on the fact that accordions are the coolest.

With one long last note they both finish the fiery anthem to the cheers and hoofstomps of all around. She grins at the cheese-sandwich mark as she checks the last item off her mental list. No, Twilight is not rubbing off on her. “I hereby declare this berry stand officially blown!”

“Now, hold on, my little pony.” The brown-maned stallion shoots back a smirk that suggests Pinkie Pie knows nothing of parties. It steams her dumplings, to say the least. “You’re forgetting one thing. And it might be the most important thing you’ll ever know.”

“Oh?” Pinkie Pie’s smile spreads extra wide. A chance to learn party tips and secrets? She’s all ears!

“And that is-” He cuts off as orange ears twitch, glancing behind his back at a spot somewhere past the Crystal Castle, and exclaims, “My Cheesy Sense is a-tingling!” He sweeps back his black-and-white poncho, then takes the time to adjust his dark fedora (almost as cool a hat as Applejack’s Stetson, or a good tall fez) before doing the same to Boneless’ tiny bowler hat. The rubber chicken may be cute, but he’s a little too lifeless, unlike Gummy.

“Oo-Oh! A Cheesy Sense?” Pinkie Pie pronks excitedly. “I have a Pinkie Sense!”

“I sensed you did.” Equestria’s number two party pony tips his hat goodbye, then Boneless’, a lonely tune playing from his accordion as a tumbleweed blows by. “I must move on. Goodbye, Pinkie Pie. Don’t forget to load the cannon.”

What!? He’s leaving? Especially without telling her what the most important thing is! “Is that what I need to know?” she yells after the galloping stallion. “To listen to my Sense?” He disappears between two stacks of presents, the cloud of dust behind him quickly dissipating. She’s not sure where the dust came from; the crystal cobblestones are clean enough to eat off of.

Pinkie Pie plops down, huffing to herself, her instruments collapsing in a pile around her. Her forelegs cross across her chest, and she blows a bit of bent mane out of her face. It falls right back down. All around her the party rages. Inside something else rages, but it’s certainly no party.

Why did he have to go? She was having so much fun! No, she still is having fun! See? She stands up, shaking a pair of maracas at a passing pair of ponies. They chortle back, but she can sense the edge in their expressions, the gilding of a grimace with the guise of a guffaw.

Her half-hearted attempt squashed like so many gourds, she plops back down. Crushed. Mashed and mangled, pounded and pulverized, not to a pie but to a tart.

Is this what her life will be when things go back to normal? Condemned to forever wander the streets of Ponyville, hoping against hope that somepony new will show up? Or somepony will use Twilight’s fertility spell and she can celebrate a birthday outside of Foal’s Week? Or Fluttershy will throw one of her… gag… picnic parties?

No! She can’t give up so easily! There will be other parties! Other chances to have fun and feel alive!

They just… wouldn’t be parties with him. Whatever his name is.

She hasn’t had this much fun at a party in years! Lemon’s Cute-ceañera, Nightmare Night, the Grand Galloping Gala: none compared to the magnitude, the sheer scope, the way the bash started off as a simple storm-the-castle distraction that unexpectedly flipped off the hook so quickly it left her spinning!

Okay, the Grand Galloping Gala came close, but for entirely different reasons. Reasons she would be moderately okay with triplicating, but her Friends wouldn’t like that.

And the reason for this party being what it is is trotting off into the distance, never to be seen again.

She never feels like this with Doug. Not because he’s a human (though that has something to do with it) or because he prefers his peace and quiet (though that also has something to do with it) or because he isn’t super supportive (though that has a lot of somethings to do with it; if you wanted to get technical (quite possibly the worst quality a pony could have) he just goes along and rarely encourages her to do more). He never tells her off, not with words, but she can sense the exasperation behind his eyes. There’s always a reluctance, a hesitation, an inability to let go of what is certain for what is possible. It’s like the saying goes: a pie in the hoof is worth two on the ‘sill. He’s the kind of pony who always goes for one in the hoof, while she knows she can snatch those two on the windowsill. And does, no matter how fast Granny Pie swings the switch.

“Hey, dam.”

“Hey, Lemon.” Pinkie Pie glances over as a teenage mare trots along the top of the traincar, a blue and pink vacuum cleaner strapped to her back. She’s not sure if the yellow earth pony is her foal or a figment of her imagination.

“Feeling blue?”

Pinkie Pie sighs. She holds up her hooves. “Still pink.”

Lemon doesn’t react beyond brushing one of the cream streaks in her bright yellow mane to the side. She’s gotten so big, she’s nearly eye level with Pinkie Pie, though still on the slim side. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Pinkie Pie lets out a forced laugh. “It’s not like I can just chase after him like some heat-struck filly.”

“And why is that?” Lemon asks, scratching notes on a pad of paper.

Pinkie Pie scoffs. “Seriously?” She motions at her filly. It would be wrong, and yet… She has to change the topic before she pulls a Rarity. “What are you even doing here, anyway?”

“I have to clean this party up, but I saw a chance to use my mark.” Lemon motions to her mark of a pitcher of lemonade. “Plus, you know what they say about distractions.”

“If you don’t know who the distraction is, it’s you.” Pinkie Pie’s eyes suddenly go wide. “I was the distraction!”

Lemon grins. “And what were you the distraction for?”

Pinkie Pie stands up, staring at the castle. “You know what?” She matches Lemon’s grin. “Maybe I am feeling a little blue.”

With one flip she fits herself into Rainbow’s dark blue Shadowbolt costume. She skitters down the length of the Cannonball Surprise X-L and slips inside the barrel before remembering that she needs to load the cannon. Now that would have been an epic mistake! A quick trip down retrieves Trixie’s Sparkler to End All Sparklers. It feels like a travesty to light something so majestic, but Romare Candles just won’t glow until they’re burned! Neither will they light up the sky if they aren’t hurled at hilariously high speeds, but being rockets helps with that part.

The Cannonball Surprise growls as it ratchets up, an ominous clank-clank-clank, aiming at the pointy tip of the Crystal Castle. It’s hard to tell which is more foreboding, the clanks or the steady hiss of the fuse.

She calmly straps on a set of goggles, counting down the seconds.

With a loud ka-thunk the spring in the cannon releases, catapulting her and the massive cake of fireworks high into the air. She can see her house from up here! Wait, no, that’s the Crystal Empire. All the buildings sparkle, straight angles and sharp corners, reflecting the light of the sun in a way that might be blinding if it wasn’t filtered through the pink shield first.

And there are her Friends! Applejack and Big Mac, Fluttershy and Zephyr Breeze, slinking after a growing group of guards chasing Rarity and Prince Blueblood and leaving their posts under the Crystal Castle completely undefended. Silly ponies, don’t they know a distraction when they see one?

She screams in delight as she thrusts with her hind legs, sending the fireworks even higher while she plummets down. With a roar the first rocket ignites, but she’s too cool to look at explosions (that and she doesn’t want to get blinded by the second sun). She pulls out a ball of fluffy cotton (well worth every StormyBuck!) and gives it a (for her) short hug. A cloud envelops her hooves, bringing her fall to an abrupt stop - well, more like a gentle coast as she silently skims along the ground straight at her Friends.

“Alright, everybirdie,” Fluttershy explains to a pack of four birds, all crisply standing at attention. “I’ve assembled this team with one purpose, and one purpose only: to infiltrate the castle with nopony else noticing. You’ve scouted their normal patrol routes, which is good, but they’re going to be all helter-skelter with what’s going on outside. I want each of you to fly ahead and report any guards or movement to either me or Zephyr Breeze.” She gives her brother a pointed look. “Isn’t that right, Zephyr?”

“Err,” Zephyr Breeze says, a little surprised at his sister being so commanding. “Yes?”

“Good.” Fluttershy sticks her hoof forward, and each bird hops on it. “Fluttershy’s Five, get ready!”

“But there are six of us,” Zephyr Breeze complains.

Fluttershy rolls her eyes. “Everygroup else has an extra secret member. Why can’t we?”

Applejack and Big Mac race the last few steps to stand outside a locked door leading into the Crystal Castle, the same one Doug went through, and into position. All of a sudden the entire Kingdom lights with the unmitigated light of a makeshift sun. They wince, unable to properly see their targets, but they have years of applebucking, especially applebucking to the point where they can’t keep their eyes open and yet still go on. With heavy grunts they rear back, bucking the barred barricade right as a thunderclap rolls over them. The door busts down, nopony able to hear the shouted command to ‘Go, go, go!’ as Prince Blueblood leads a behatted Rarity inside. It seems to occur to everypony that there is still a competition going on, all trying to be the first to find the Helm of the Sibling Supreme. They all stumble up the stairs, ears ringing, but Pinkie Pie lags behind as the sandwich-stamped stallion enters last and goes to prop the door back in place.

Her heart flutters in her chest. His eyes, always full of mirth, darken as she approaches. He waves a hoof over the four pock marks marring the door as though there was something he could do to make it less obvious. With a loud grunt he neatly slots it back in place, but he doesn’t turn around to face her.

“Hey.” Pinkie Pie pulls him aside. “Can we talk?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, head hanging. “But no. This isn’t something I can talk about.”

Pinkie Pie’s lower lip quiver. “But-”

He takes a deep breath. “I have to sing about how I began my saga with a pie.

~A long, long, time ago,
In a town not far away,
A colt was having an attack.
Alone and rejected, I could never
Make a friend; and each endeavor
Always seemed to send me straight back.
I wandered off to the horizon.
Thinking that some time might wizen.
But it all made no difference.
They still showed their indifference.
I hit the road with time to kill.
Braved the forests and crested hills.
Stumbled in to Po-ny-ville.
That’s where, I found, this toy.

Hi!, my, name is Pi-in-kie Pie,
May be savior someday later, now I just play ‘I Spy’,
Balloons and banners, many fun games to try
Askin’ what would you like on your pie,
What would you like on your pie?

Did you know this smalltown mare,
With frizzy tail and poofy hair,
Greets everypony with a smile?
Rich or poor or alicorn,
Hooves or wings or pointy horn,
All are worth her while.
And I know that some think she’s insane
Just a, crazy mare they can’t explain
But that never mattered to me-e
When I spread joy and glee-e-e!
I took my pack out to the plains.
Trekked through snow and sleet and rains
Until all might learn of her refrains.
That’s how. I used. This toy.

And she was singing,
Hi!, my, name is Pi-in-kie Pie,
May be savior someday later, now I just play ‘I Spy’,
Balloons and banners, many fun games to try
Askin’ what would you like on your pie,
What would you like on your pie?

I found my purpose there and then,
To bring laughter to each glade and fen.
Even those that haven’t smiled in a while.
When I left, they all felt better.
It was like they each had met her.
The inspiration for my style.
Looking at her, you’d never think
She brought the world back from the brink
That when things got the darkest
Her Laughter shined the starkest.
She’s the mare I admire most.
Chipper, gracious, a faultless host.
Yet humble; she would ne-ver boast.
That’s why. I share. This toy.

Hi! My, name is Pi-in-kie Pie,
May be savior someday later, now I just play ‘I Spy’,
Balloons and banners, many fun games to try
Askin’ what would you like on your pie,
What would you like on your pie?~”

Pinkie Pie stands there, stunned. “I…I was the inspiration? You became a partypony because of me?”

“Because of you.”

Suddenly the name comes to her. “Cheese Sandwich! You were at the Arri-versary party I threw Doug! February seventeenth, nine-ninety four!”

Cheese Sandwich nods. “I was the brown-coated colt who picked up the rubber chicken you dropped.” He holds out the floppy fowl. “So in a way, this is me returning what you lost so long ago.”

“Then in a way…” Pinkie Pie leers as she sidles up to Cheese Sandwich and shares a kiss that is neither short nor chaste. “This is me thanking you.”

Cheese Sandwich pulls away with a firm nod and a smile too close to a frown for Pinkie’s comfort. “Maybe in another time and place, my little pony, but a smile on your face means my work here is done. And that is all the thanks I need.”

Pinkie Pie returns a smile that wishes she could feel the same.

Next Chapter: Ch. 150 - Brittle Barrier, Part Four Estimated time remaining: 8 Hours, 17 Minutes