It was a meeting of the Mane Six Minus Pinkie Pie—The Mane Five, as it were (or the Mane Six Plus BORING, as Pinkie Pie referred to them). They decided to meet at a nondescript bakery between lunch and dinner so as to not arouse suspicion. Pinkie Pie had a super-sensory ear for anything involving her that she wasn't immediately around for.

Twilight was at the head of the table, if you considered perfectly circular tables to have heads. She was the one wearing a crown, anyway.

"Everypony," she began, "I assume you all know why I've called you here."

"Gangbang?" Rainbow Dash suggested helpfully before taking a bite of her scone.

Twilight Sparkle shook her head.

"No, Dash, that's next week. The third Sunday of every month. Remember?"

"Um, does that mean I brought my 'baby-dragon' for nothing?" Fluttershy asked.

"What the hay is a 'baby-dragon'?" Applejack asked.

"Well, it's technically called a 'naughty-dragon', but it's so small, and cute, and the green and purple just reminded me of—"

"Girls," Twilight interrupted, her tone surprisingly calm. "Focus."

"On what?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"We're here to talk about Pinkie," Twilight said. "Pinkie and her new... thingfriend? I don't know the technically correct term. And I don't want to offend any... uh... anyone? Thing?"

"May I suggest 'romantic partner'?" Rarity chimed in. "It has a specific function in declaring the nature of interest without entangling any unnecessary gender pronouns. Though, it could be argued the word 'partner' does imply a certain, life-long investment that might not necessarily be present at the inception of a relationship..."

"Fine," Twilight said. "Pinkie's 'romantic partner' is getting out of hand. Hoof? Getting out of hoof."

"Are you talking about..." Applejack trailed off, staring down at her apple fritter.

"That's right," Twilight said, nodding. "It. The Smooze. That... party-blob. Pinkie's always loved to party, but ever since the two of them started dating, it's been just non-stop. They're partying every day. It's ruining her life—and, by extension, ours."

"I haven't been able to go outside without seeing a balloon in over a week," Fluttershy added.

"So?" Dash asked. "What's the problem with that? Balloons are awesome!"

"Actually," Fluttershy started in a haranguing whine, "while they might be pretty, balloons that are left to float around usually fall to the ground and get eaten by little forest animals. And the helium they use to make them float is getting scarcer by the day, so it's not really a good idea to waste it on making some balloons go up in the air..."

"I hear what you're saying," Dash said, "but when I close my eyes, all I can see is me, with fifty balloons tied to my back, floating above Cloudsdale in a badass hammock. And the hammock is also made of balloons."

"Girls," Twilight said again. "Focus."

"Sorry," Dash said.

"We need to think of some kind of plan to get the two of them apart. At least for a day. Then we can strategize how to keep them apart for longer. If they only saw each other twice a week, maybe that would be manageable. We could hire somepony to clean up the balloons."

"And streamers," Fluttershy added, raising her hoof slightly.

"Right. And streamers. And the goo, too, I guess."

"Why don't we just get Discord to send The Schmoop or whatever to a different dimension?" Dash asked. She reached down to take a bite of her scone only to realize she'd finished in, and subsequently to realize the plate her scone came on was very hard and not likely to be edible. Ow.

"No dimension-banishing," Fluttershy countered. "Discord's doing his best to reform, and we can't tempt him with awful pretenses like that."

"Why don't we disguise somepony as another Smooze?" Rarity asked. "I'm sure there's precedent for more than one of them... we can make an elaborate costume, and lure it away with Smoozian courtship rituals!" Her eyes already seemed to be lighting up with designs and ideas.

"Y'all do realize this is startin' to sound like a played-out sitcom plot, don'tcha?" Applejack asked, frowning.

Twilight nodded.

"Applejack makes a good point. However, sitcoms haven't been invented yet in Equestria, so we'll have to ignore it."

"What if we all just did a bunch of cocaine?" Pinkie asked. "That usually solves any problem I can't figure out."

"Again," Twilight said, "if somepony would check the schedule, they'd find that our monthly illicit drug experimentation is scheduled for the last week before—Pinkie?"

"Hey, Twilight! Are you all in here getting ready for the gang-bang? I remembered my cherry-flavored lube this time!"

"Pinkie, get out of here!" Twilight grabbed at the diagram she'd been sketching out on graph paper, which currently consisted of a rough drawing of Pinkie Pie next to a blob-shape and the words "HOW GET RID OF SMOOZE???" circled several times at the top of the page. "This is a private meeting. Of the five of us. Without you. For some reason."

"Aw, are you sure?" Pinkie Pie lounged out over the table and balanced several of the plates, still containing their pastries and cups of tea, on her hooves. "I know you guys get bored without me. Smoozie and I were gonna head out to a party soon, but you know I can always make time for my best friends!"

The Mane Six Minus Pinkie Also Minus Twilight Because She Was on the Other Side of Pinkie Pie and Pinkie Pie Was Looking Right At Her shared a collective 'should-we-tell-her' look. Rarity's was the best, but Applejack came in a close second.

"Pinkie," Rarity started, also having the best 'dear it's time we discuss the bad news' sort of voice, probably adapted from lengthy practice receiving it herself. "About your, um... blob-friend..."

Pinkie Pie turned in Rarity's direction, and her bright wide eyes made it suddenly much more difficult to tell her to get rid of her new life-partner. Not that there was an easy frame of reference to tackle that issue from.

The air grew quiet except for the sound of Rainbow Dash loudly chewing the danish she'd stolen from Rarity's plate.

"We booked the two of you a quiet romantic evening to celebrate your fortry-seven-day anniversary!" Twilight shouted. "Er... forty-seven-aversary. Whatever it's called. It's an important milestone for any couple."

Pinkie Pie nodded solemnly.

"I agree. I'll have to get my good party dress cleaned. It's all covered in whipped cream right now."

Rainbow Dash leaned in next to Rarity and whispered in her ear.

Rarity shook her head.

"No, dear, I don't think it's appropriate to ask whether that's a euphemism," Rarity said, loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.

Dash blushed and tried to disappear into her stolen danish.

Twilight shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"It's a very formal establishment," Twilight said. "So no party favors, no party hats, no party cannons or party, uh... no parties."

Pinkie tilted her head curiously to the side as though Twilight had opened her mouth and made a long series of fish noises.

"No parties," Twilight repeated matter-of-factly. "Sorry. That's just the rules at, uh... the restaurant. That we booked you a date at. Yes."

"Okie-dokie-no-section-for-smoking!" Pinkie said. She bounced off the table and left the dishes, cups, and saucers spinning, as well as a tiny pink cupcake in the center of the table.

Twilight waited with the rest of the group until they were sure the pink flash had vanished into the distance, then let out a collective sigh.

"A romantic dinner?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"I didn't hear any of you coming up with anything better!" Twilight snapped.

"I was going to say we could have them both murdered, but I thought maybe that would be in poor taste..." Fluttershy said quietly, barely loud enough for anypony else to hear.

"Whatever," Dash said. "So the idea is we make them go to a fancy dinner where they can't party, and then... what?"

"They both realize how much they love spending time with each other without the craziness of a party going on all the time, and thus begins a new era of slow and thoughtful relationship activities. Like feeding ducks at the park."

Rainbow Dash blinked loudly.

"Does anypony else think that's actually going to work?"

"If it doesn't, we'll just go back to the asking Discord for an alternate dimension thing," Twilight said.

Dash nodded. Rarity and Applejack followed. Even Fluttershy eventually sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

"Good. Now let's figure out where in Ponyville we can contain Pinkie and the Blob for a Friday evening."

"I bet if we built a really small box, we could lure them in like a pair of cats," Pinkie Pie said. "Pinkie Pie's a sucker for an undersized box."

"Pinkie!"

"This is nice, isn't it?" Pinkie asked.

The restaurant Twilight and the gang (but mostly Twilight) had picked out was a fine-dining, upscale accouterments, 'turned-away-at-the-door-based-on-the-dress-code' type of establishment, and Pinkie had to go through three costumes and a clown suit before she found something Twilight agreed was 'formal' enough. Pinkie had to argue hard for the bow-tie, but won out in the end.

The Smooze was mostly just sparkly. Sparkly and jiggly. And wearing a top-hat.

He jiggled at Pinkie Pie across the table. This was Smooze-language for something, and luckily, Pinkie Pie spoke Smooze.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh, "it is kinda quiet."

The Smooze gurgled and burbled ominously like a possessed jello mold. Blurp, blup, blorp.

Pinkie Pie nodded solemnly.

"I agree, Princess Celestia does rule with a tyrannical iron hoof." She shrugged. "But that's a 'constitutional monarchy' for you."

Burble.

"I'm sure you can ask if they serve treasure. No reason they couldn't make a substitution."

Splurgh.

Pinkie occupied herself momentarily with her menu. Most of it was in a language she couldn't read, and instead of prices, there were pictures of ponies in dresses and monocles throwing up into waste-baskets, sometimes as many as three for the most prestigious items. Pinkie Pie was peering at the words, daring them to turn into helpful illustrations, when the maitre d' came by.

"Good evening," he said. He was a prim and proper looking pony wearing a fancy suit, but not so fancy as to offset the dress-code of the patronage, which was so fancy that Pinkie wasn't sure the word 'fancy' accurately described it. Somepony seemed to be wearing a full-body gown made entirely of gold pieces, with the train carried by breezies.

"Hi there!" Pinkie said. "Are you here to help us figure out the menu?"

"Does madam require assistance making a dining selection?"

Pinkie blinked mutely for several seconds.

"Uh... yeah! And we wanna know what to eat, too."

The maitre d' raised an auspicious eyebrow.

"And the, er... gentleslime, as well?"

The server looked towards the Smooze expecting some form of an answer, whether a wet-sounding belch or just an ominous jiggle. But the Smooze just sat there, in its great green silence, and never said a word.

The maitre d' lowered his eyebrow, then raised his other one even sharper.

"He'd like a giant pile of jewels. Ooh! Or gold." Pinkie closed her menu and looked around the room before leaning in and whispering. "Do you think that pony wearing that fancy gown would notice if a chunk of it went missing?"

"I'll have a conversation with the kitchen and see what we have available," the server-pony said. He grabbed the Smooze's menu up and folded it under his foreleg. "And for the lady, perhaps something with a little flare... our flaming filet has quite a unique presentation, especially if you've never been served a flaming carcass before..."

"That sounds fine," Pinkie said. She held out her menu to the maitre d'. He eyed it suspiciously for a few seconds before taking it and stacking it atop the other one.

"Very good," he said. "And to drink?"

"Do you guys have any peach schnapps? We were gonna pre-game, but I didn't have time to stop at the liquor store."

Blub blub, blurble.

The server-pony's eyes launched into space and began to orbit the planet at low altitude.

"I'll see what we can arrange," he said. Then he was gone, and the menus with him.

Pinkie Pie stifled a yawn.

"Geez," she said, "I sure hope the food's good. This place is a real snore-fest."

The Smooze wiggled in agreement.

"You know..." Pinkie gave another quick look around, surveying the surrounding tables and finding them mostly full of ponies who were too fancy to notice anything untoward, even if it was jiggling auspiciously next to them.

Pinkie leaned over the table towards The Smooze and whispered in his gelatin:

"We could totally liven things up. Start a little party... whadda ya say?"

The Smooze shook from side to side arbitrarily. Schlorp.

Pinkie had a huge grin.

"Exactly." Pinkie pulled out a sparkly pink-and-yellow bag labelled 'PARTY FAVORS' in sequin letters. She opened it up, still grinning.

"Got a mirror?" she asked.

The Smooze regurgitated a small hoof-sized compact out of the folds of his rippling plasma—plasma? Some state of interstitiary matter, anyway.

"Perfect," Pinkie Pie said. "These ponies won't know what hit 'em."

It was two weeks after the 'date'. Ponyville had burned for three days straight before finally the flames had nothing left to consume. A trail of glitter and off-tasting fruit punch was surrounded by scorched earth, leading around the town in circles, emergent from the center like a spiral, that expanded outwards until it was large enough to consume the entire planet...

Twilight Sparkle stood weeping at the ruins of her former home. Thousands were dead. Civilization itself was poised upon the brink of collapse.

Somewhere, in the far distance, somepony had turned on 'All Star' by Smash Mouth for the fifteenth time in a row.

Rarity, Twilight's only surviving compatriot, wheeled over to her in a dusty, clunky wheelchair. It was all the rebellion could afford, now that The Smooze had consumed the entirety of the textile and metal-working industries.

There there, Twilight, Rarity typed through the touch-to-word display affixed to the front of her chair. I know you're sad, but you mustn't blame yourself. There's no way any of us could have predicted what would happen.

Overhead, a flock of seagulls that had flown into a Smooze-cloud gurgled and warbled their last collective breath before plummeting out of the sky like a sack of moldy Beanie Babies™. Schplup.

Low, just carrying over the horizon of sound, the constant trumpeting became somepony's voice, and that became words, mixed in among the residual hollering and shouting and pleading for an expedient death.

It sounded like Pinkie Pie.

Saying 'Woo'.

It felt strange to call the thing 'Pinkie Pie' though—what the pair of them had eventually merged into, it barely even looked like a pony anymore. Just a plastic action figure suspended in a gargantuan Jello™ mould. Some culinary experiment that had gone horribly awry.

Twilight wiped a heavy tear away from her eye. It felt good to cry, every now and then.

"Do you think there's any chance she can still hear us in there? If she's still talking to us, maybe there's a possibility..."

If Rarity could have, she would have shaken her head. Instead, she wobbled her chair from side to side, almost tipping over in one direction.

I'm sorry, dear, she typed on the dimly-lit monitor, but whatever's left of Pinkie will be dissolved and digested into her new host within days. That's not even her talking—it's just air escaping from the pockets of ooze. Smooze? Smooze. Rarity mustered a sort of frown on her face. Anyway. It's better just to say goodbye, darling.

"Who would have guessed that Pinkie Pie would end up partying herself to death... and most of us too."

Again, Rarity would have shaken her head, this time more solemnly. She settled for a few arbitrary taps of her keypad.

There there. There there there colon slash slash aych tee tee pee big dragon ding dongs dot—

Rarity smashed the keypad with her forehead, and the screen stopped the display of words.

"I wonder if there's some overarching moral lesson in all of this," Twilight mused to herself, shielding her eyes from the incoming shower of acid rain and the blinding flashes of radioactive lightning.

Shrug, Rarity typed on her keypad. The screen was still broken, so it didn't show anything.

Smooze-wise, only Pinkie's head remained. The rest of her bones and flesh and internal organs had been neatly slurped up to assist in caloric accumulation, and just generally tasted good.

It was hard not to get confused. If you watched the big blob roll along, her mouth really did seem to be moving as the sound came...

"Woo... Woo... Woo..."