Thirty Minute Pony Stories

In the dark, a filly sat bolt upright in her bed.  Blue eyes snapped open as she went from zero to Pinkie in a heartbeat.

Hoof ache, nose twitchy, tongue curl.

The filly gasped and leapt from her bed. “Hoof ache, nose twitch, tongue curl? Gummy, do you know what this means?” She looked expectantly to a patch of darkness that looked a little more reptile-ish than the others.

No response.

Pinkie slammed her hoof down. “That’s right! Somepony needs help and I’m just somepony enough to do it. Pinkie Pie away!”

The pony ran through the darkness, leapt for one patch of semi-light that was her window (grabbing a strategically placed bag on the way by) and sailed out of Sugarcube Corner into the night.

*********************************

In gloom of her bedroom, Twilight groaned.  For the seventy-second time that night, she checked her clock.  It was ten past three in the morning. Precisely.  Four minutes and twelve seconds since the last time she checked.

Sixty-four point thirty-five hours since she’d last slept. 

Three thousand, eight hundred and sixty-one minutes.

Two hundred, thirty-one thousand, six hundred and sixty seconds.

Make that sixty-five.

She groaned again and rolled over on her bed again.  Then again and closed her eyes.

They opened again. The clock read fifteen minutes and four seconds past three. 

She lifted her head, fluffed her pillow with her magic and slammed her head back down. 

Grumbling, she closed her eyes.

They opened again.

A figure stood beside her bed, colourless in the night.  It stood up on its hind legs and looked down at her.  Even in the dark, Twilight could see the gleam of white from the wicked grin it wore. Its forelimbs were raised high, holding something over its head. 

It brought its forelegs down.

Twilight screamed, calling on her magic.  It was already too late.  In the glow of her gathering magic she saw the head of a massive hammer coming for her face.

*Squeak-a*

Twilight blinked and sniffed to rid her nose of the tiny itch the blow had left behind.  

The hammer raised again.

*Squeak-a*

“Pinkie…”

*Squeak-a*

“Yes, Twilight?”

*Squeak-a*

“What are you doing?”

Pinkie blew a raspberry. “Well, duh!”

*Squeak-a*

——

Obscure Comments:

Hee hee, this was a quirky little story that I liked! Pinkie was being good and weird and overall this was a nice, odd little piece! Good job!