The party had started thirty minutes ago and she still wasn’t ready.
Pinkie Pie glanced at the clock hanging from the kitchen wall,
watching with apprehension as the seconds steadily ticked by. She
hadn’t been late to a party before, not once, not ever, and the fact
that she was late to a super-duper important party made the whole
thing that much worse. She knew it wasn’t her fault, not really.
The Cakes had gone on vacation and had left her in charge of Sugarcube
Corner. She had promised them she knew how to take care of the shop,
showing them she knew how by reciting her special Recipe Song. They
had even insisted on going over their written instructions twice
before they left. So she had followed them to the letter, even when
it seemed like it would have been more fun her way.
The week leading up to Nightmare Night had passed by in a daze of
busy-body work. Orders were filled, pastries were baked, and Pinkie
had even found some extra time to clean out the refrigerator as a
special thank-you to the Cakes. She had just been getting ready to
close up when she found a half-dozen ponies all hurriedly knocking on
the front door, all placing rush orders at the very last second.
But she wasn’t the Cakes best student for nothing after all! She had
cooked and baked and battered and whipped up a frenzy. Finally,
everypony left with their treats, leaving her tired but victorious.
The only problem was that all of her mad cooking hadn’t left her much
time to prepare for the party.
Rarity’s Nightmare Night fancy-pants party, or soiree as the elegant
unicorn had written on the invitations, had a special condition to
attending. Each guest had to bring a pumpkin, carved by their own
hand. Pinkie still didn’t quite understand why, but Rarity had
insisted that it was special and important and that was more than
enough for Pinkie.
The only problem was that… well, her carvings just weren’t good enough.
Careful now Pinkie, you’ve almost got this one…
The pink earth pony slowly leaned forward to poke at the pumpkin,
knife tightly clenched between her teeth. Pinkie was sure this was
the one, the perfect pumpkin to show Rarity how –
The knife sunk up to its hilt in pumpkin, ruining the precise cuts and
shavings that had taken forever to make. Blue eyes blinked once, then
twice, before the mare burst into motion. Rearing back in rage,
Pinkie gave a strangled cry before she sent the pumpkin flying through
the air with an angry hoof.
The pumpkin hit the wall with a wet squelch, splattering juices
everywhere, before slowly sliding down to join it’s brothers in a
heap. Pinkie felt like crying and so she did, hot tears of
frustration pouring from her face. She was going to be late to
the party, and she wasn’t going to have the perfect pumpkin,
and everything was just a big dumb mess!
Wailing her lungs out, face planted on the pile of pumpkin guts strewn
over the table, Pinkie was sure this was the worst Nightmare Night
ever. She had tried so hard to close early, had gotten her costume
done extra early this year, and had even picked out the best
half-dozen pumpkins, on the logic that if one perfect pumpkin was
good, six were better. But nope, she had closed late, and her costume
was now covered in pumpkin juice, and she only had one sort of okay
looking pumpkin that didn’t even have a carving on it yet.
At least I’ve still got you little pumpkin buddy…
The thought brought Pinkie out of her moping, her blue eye blinking
tearfully as she gazed at the last pumpkin. It was half-squashed on
one side and looked sort of runty, the worst of the pumpkins she had
bought. She lazily played with it with her hoof, the pumpkin rolling
around lackadaisically before coming to rest in front of her sniffling
muzzle. There, alone in the dark, was when Pinkie realized she needed
to act like the pumpkin.
It hadn’t given up on growing big and strong, even when it had been
squashed. It had kept on growing, despite everything bad that had
happened to it. And if Pinkie was to impress Rarity, to show the
beautiful unicorn her true feelings, she couldn’t give up either.
Rubbing at her nose with one hoof and giving a tired giggle, Pinkie
reached for a knife.
Heh, this was a cute story. I can completely understand why Pinkie would be so frustrated to see her work ruined like that, and her feelings came across very clearly. And I really loved her musings on the last pumpkin and how it gave her new hope again. Great work!