Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.
Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Rain or Shine
Pinkie Pie was rather fond of Rocky Road. For all that could be said about the usually straight-faced stallion, nopony who happened to spot him at any of her parties could ever make the claim that he wasn't fun-loving.
When it came to planning shindigs, Pinkie was, of course, the hardest working mare in Ponyville. However, she did have to cede that every once in a while, she managed to bite off just a bit more than she could chew. Oh, she'd eventually chew it, alright; nice and slow if need be, but sometimes it helped to have somepony there to shove her jaw open and closed, so to speak. When her best friends had not been available, Rocky had, surprisingly, proved to be a dependable alternative in this regard. Granted, he wasn't the best at frosting cupcakes or making good punch—him being a road-working, path paving, and stone laying pony after all—but his heart seemed always in the right place. To Pinkie that was all that mattered.
The first time she had ever asked for his assistance was years ago when a rogue wind rustled up by a passing flock of pegasi had blown away the balloons for little Crescent Moon’s sixth birthday party. Pinkie, too busy with putting the finishing touches on the music playlist, figured the best she could do was to send Rocky—a friend of Ms. Moon’s—off to fetch more. She wasn’t sure if he would return in time, and then to her utter glee, the stallion quite literally floated back into the cottage with seconds to spare, laughing that whooping laugh of his. That was the moment she realized that there was something special about him.
Pinkie now found herself frowning where she stood outside the door of Raspberry Road, Rocky's sister. Closing her eyes, and breathing deeply, she tried to set her mind onto more important matters at hoof.
It had come time to repay Rocky's kindness. The stallion's birthday was in two days, and Pinkie had secretly been planning the most amazing surprise blowout for him for months. Even now, whilst flipping through the hefty dossier she had assembled for him, she couldn’t help but giggle. He loved balloons, purple ones particularly. Sugar cookies were his favorite dessert; she had made sure to whip up a quadruple batch. Music, magicians, and all the rest of the essentials had been planned long ago. It would most certainly be a spectacular party, and exactly what he would want. Pinkie imagined him walking into the function, and breaking out into that hacking laugh of his.
She grimaced again.
That laugh—She had always hesitated to admit out loud how much contempt she held for that laugh. It would have seemed completely un-Pinkie-ish of her after all. Yet, until recently, she could never quite put her hoof on why she had disliked it.
The sound of a doorknob twisting startled her from her own thoughts. The door cracked open with a ‘click’. One indigo eye peeked out from the slit.
“Pinkie?” came a hoarse voice. “Why, you’re early.”
Raspberry opened the door fully. A genuine smile cracked her exhausted face.
“Most important party of the year!” Pinkie chirped, returning the smile. “Had to make sure everything was perfect.”
The guests gradually began to file in, eyes worn and weary. Yet, upon closer inspection, Pinkie could see that somewhere within those gazes lay hope, expectations of happiness soon to come.
Traversing the room amidst the gathering, she couldn’t help but dwell on how perfect Rocky would think it all looked. The purple balloons were big and ebullient. The sugar cookies were piled high whilst the smell of baked cinnamon filled the room. In the center of a large table packed with party favors, drinks, and snacks sat a looming portrait of the stallion amongst a spray of white lilies. It smiled down brightly upon the gathering as if in approval of it all. Pinkie beamed, now unable to feel anything but reassured about what she and Raspberry had planned—or rather kept planned—for Rocky’s guests.
“Hope you super duper love it, Rock,” she whispered, winking toward the picture.
Turning about, feeling somewhat renewed, she caught sight of Rocky’s mother approaching. Fixing the hems of her dark dress, she then moved forward to meet the mare's impending embrace. When she pulled away, their eyes locked. Despite the bright smiles they both wore, their cheeks suddenly felt wet and sticky with tears.
“Ms. Roads,” Pinkie murmured, her voice cracking, “my condolences.”
When it came to planning shindigs, Pinkie was, of course, the hardest working mare in Ponyville. However, she did have to cede that every once in a while, she managed to bite off just a bit more than she could chew. Oh, she'd eventually chew it, alright; nice and slow if need be, but sometimes it helped to have somepony there to shove her jaw open and closed, so to speak. When her best friends had not been available, Rocky had, surprisingly, proved to be a dependable alternative in this regard. Granted, he wasn't the best at frosting cupcakes or making good punch—him being a road-working, path paving, and stone laying pony after all—but his heart seemed always in the right place. To Pinkie that was all that mattered.
The first time she had ever asked for his assistance was years ago when a rogue wind rustled up by a passing flock of pegasi had blown away the balloons for little Crescent Moon’s sixth birthday party. Pinkie, too busy with putting the finishing touches on the music playlist, figured the best she could do was to send Rocky—a friend of Ms. Moon’s—off to fetch more. She wasn’t sure if he would return in time, and then to her utter glee, the stallion quite literally floated back into the cottage with seconds to spare, laughing that whooping laugh of his. That was the moment she realized that there was something special about him.
Pinkie now found herself frowning where she stood outside the door of Raspberry Road, Rocky's sister. Closing her eyes, and breathing deeply, she tried to set her mind onto more important matters at hoof.
It had come time to repay Rocky's kindness. The stallion's birthday was in two days, and Pinkie had secretly been planning the most amazing surprise blowout for him for months. Even now, whilst flipping through the hefty dossier she had assembled for him, she couldn’t help but giggle. He loved balloons, purple ones particularly. Sugar cookies were his favorite dessert; she had made sure to whip up a quadruple batch. Music, magicians, and all the rest of the essentials had been planned long ago. It would most certainly be a spectacular party, and exactly what he would want. Pinkie imagined him walking into the function, and breaking out into that hacking laugh of his.
She grimaced again.
That laugh—She had always hesitated to admit out loud how much contempt she held for that laugh. It would have seemed completely un-Pinkie-ish of her after all. Yet, until recently, she could never quite put her hoof on why she had disliked it.
The sound of a doorknob twisting startled her from her own thoughts. The door cracked open with a ‘click’. One indigo eye peeked out from the slit.
“Pinkie?” came a hoarse voice. “Why, you’re early.”
Raspberry opened the door fully. A genuine smile cracked her exhausted face.
“Most important party of the year!” Pinkie chirped, returning the smile. “Had to make sure everything was perfect.”
The guests gradually began to file in, eyes worn and weary. Yet, upon closer inspection, Pinkie could see that somewhere within those gazes lay hope, expectations of happiness soon to come.
Traversing the room amidst the gathering, she couldn’t help but dwell on how perfect Rocky would think it all looked. The purple balloons were big and ebullient. The sugar cookies were piled high whilst the smell of baked cinnamon filled the room. In the center of a large table packed with party favors, drinks, and snacks sat a looming portrait of the stallion amongst a spray of white lilies. It smiled down brightly upon the gathering as if in approval of it all. Pinkie beamed, now unable to feel anything but reassured about what she and Raspberry had planned—or rather kept planned—for Rocky’s guests.
“Hope you super duper love it, Rock,” she whispered, winking toward the picture.
Turning about, feeling somewhat renewed, she caught sight of Rocky’s mother approaching. Fixing the hems of her dark dress, she then moved forward to meet the mare's impending embrace. When she pulled away, their eyes locked. Despite the bright smiles they both wore, their cheeks suddenly felt wet and sticky with tears.
“Ms. Roads,” Pinkie murmured, her voice cracking, “my condolences.”