Pinkie Pie and her five best friends were having lunch together at a pleasant outdoor cafe that they favored. Just then, Pinkie’s stomach rumbled, which drew stares from the others because stomachs rumbling during lunch are somewhat confusing, and then it faded away, leaving a belly-shaped divot in Pinkie Pie. This, as you might imagine, continued to draw stares.
The divot filled in a moment later as her stomach returned, and all eyes shifted to Pinkie’s face.
“Pinkie,” began Twilight, with some trepidation, “what just happened?”
Pinkie finished chewing and swallowing her bite of food. “It means it’s time.”
Eyes blinked and heads tilted all around the table. Fluttershy lifted a questioning hoof. “What time is it when your tummy disappears?”
Pinkie drained her glass and thumped it down onto the table. She threw a grin around at her friends. “It means it’s time for time.”
Applejack got out, “Wha—?” but by the second syllable of the word, Pinkie was already running off toward Sugarcube Corner.
The others threw money onto the table and took off after her. Catching up, Twilight said, “What does that even mean, Pinkie?”
“It means I’ve begun to fade out due to timeline instability, which means I need to use my time machine to make sure I continue to exist! Simple, see?”
Twilight spluttered, unable to form coherent words for a moment. “That makes even less sense than it did before! Time machines are a theoretical impossibility! And what do you mean, ‘make sure you continue to exist’?”
The group of them stormed through the front door of Sugarcube Corner and down to the basement, where a candy-striped chair stood in one corner. Pinkie walked around it briefly, inspecting the connections on the various wires and leads coming from it. “Time travel is a theoretical impossibility, but the opposite of that is a practical possibility, and so I just flipped the signs on all the math and here we are—time machine!”
Twilight began spluttering again. Pinkie’s nose disappeared, then returned a few moments later. “Sorry, Twilight, but I really gotta go. Time’s a-wasting. Ha! Time travel joke there.”
Pinkie donned her saddlebags and tossed a towel, a trash bag, and a potion bottle labeled Formula 63 in to the bags. She flung herself into the candy-striped chair and yanked the lever. The rest of the ponies covered their eyes against the bright flash the chair created. “See you girls sooooooooooooooon . . .” Pinkie called, her voice sounding like it was echoing from a great distance away.
They stood in the now-chairless basement, and exchanged glances.
“What the f—” Dash got out, before another bright flash filled the basement.
The chair was back, smoking slightly. In fact, it was smoking about as much as the pony seated in it. Pinkie Pie ashed her cigarette with a very satisfied smile.
Twilight grabbed her by the shoulders. “What just happened, Pinkie? I need answers!”
Pinkie took a long drag on her cigarette, puffed it toward the ceiling, and said, “Not much. Just had to go back and impregnate my mother. Fate of the multiverse kind of thing, you know how it is.” She tossed the empty bottle of Formula 63 into a trash can.
Twilight boggled at her. “But that— but how— what?”
Fluttershy blinked slowly, then raised a hoof. “Um, Pinkie Pie? Doesn’t that make you your own father?”
Pinkie nodded. “It sure does.”
——
Comments:
This was quite hysterical! It read like something straight out of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series, or like an episode of Futurama, where Pinkie basically just says “Screw physics, I’m Pinkie Pie!” and completely violates all logic and reason in order to time travel to save herself by just flipping all of the signs in the equations or something. Real scientists and physicists might be crying to read such blasphemies, but as I am neither a scientist nor a physicist, I can get away with laughing at the absurdity and enjoying the way the pace of the story bounced things along. You should consider tossing this into your collection on FIMFiction, or possibly publishing it on its own, even…it’s too funny not to be seen elsewhere.
All your zombies are belong to Pinkie Pie!
I wrote this yesterday for Thirty Minute Ponies, and it came out rather amusingly. I was going for a sort of loose style...