0-0-0-0-0

I don't know where I am.

It's dark, though. Everything feels funny.

Am I dead?

It wouldn't surprise me.

I might be dead. I certainly remember being alive.

The details are a little fuzzy…

But I definitely remember that much.

Things aren't supposed to be this way.

Not like that's going to stop me.

0-0-0-0-0

Plink.

Pinkie Pie thought that she had been mistaken, at first.

Such an odd noise, occurring out of nowhere. Like a drop in a pool, echoing just beyond her eardrums.

She sat bolt upright in bed, startling Gummy.

Pinkie stared about the room, even though absolutely nothing out of place could be seen in the dim moonlight pouring in silently through the window. She breathed a small sigh of relief, and shook her head as she giggled quietly.

Just being silly again.

Pinkie bounced back into her bed, snuggling beneath the blanket beside her agitated pet alligator. Probably just a bad dream that she'd already forgotten, Pinkie told herself. She rolled over a couple of times for good measure, making herself comfortable before drifting back off to sleep.

At least, until she heard it again.

0-0-0-0-0

Plink.

That noise.

So faint, so far away. But when I reached for it, it was louder… closer.

How could I reach without hands?

… More importantly, why in the flying fuck was I suddenly devoid of hands?

But the moment I stopped concentrating on finding the noise, the further away it drifted…

I guess I was just afraid of being lost in the dark again.

So I reached out for it again.

It got louder.

Like I were tapping metal against a glass.

Maybe if I got a little closer…

0-0-0-0-0

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

Pinkie groaned, covering her head with her pillow. The noise.

Why wouldn't it stop? Where was it coming from?

She must have spent over an hour wandering her flat in Sugarcube Corner, desperately searching for the source of the constant noise. If only she could determine why it was so… annoying. To the point of nearly driving her mad from the sheer repetition. Pinkie could have sworn that it was very close by, but she never found it, no matter how hard she looked.

She even checked to see if Gummy was leaking.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't.

"Where?" Pinkie tossed her mattress into the air, digging beneath the bed to the sound of a very unsatisfied Gummy. "Where's it coming from?!" she whimpered pitifully as she clasped her hooves over her eyes, since trying to block out the horrendous noise by covering her ears wasn't working at all.

Hey, don't ask me. I don't have any idea, either.

Pinkie jumped, yanking her eyes open in shock.

Holy fuck balls! My eyes!

Pinkie promptly stuffed her hoof into her mouth, having realized that she was the one that had spouted such profanity.

What's going on? she thought in panic, absentmindedly wondering if she'd accidentally confused the evening's earlier candy for some of Mr. Cake's heart medicine again.

Which actually came out as "Thwath ghoh owh?" as she still had one hoof firmly in her own mouth.

The voice inside her head appeared to have understood perfectly, however, because it responded immediately in the slightly raspy voice of an adult stallion.

I already SAID, I don't have a goddamned clue! Weren't you paying attention? And what the FUCK happened to my hands? Wait…

… OH, GOD! MY BALLS!

Pinkie hadn't even noticed when she'd lost all control of her body, as she found herself staring wide-eyed down at her own hoof. The one that wasn't inside her mouth, obviously.

She yanked her hoof out with a wet plop! and shook her head furiously.

"Gotta wake up, gotta wake up!"

At least, those were the words that came from Pinkie's mouth. She had no recollection of even thinking them, though; and she most certainly hadn't tried to say them herself.

Understandably, this caused Pinkie Pie quite a measure of both confusion and outright terror.

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick," she heard herself breath and felt her own knees buckle beneath her, and the floor of her room rushed up to lovingly greet her with all the warmth and affection of a speeding train.

0-0-0-0-0

… Am I dreaming now?

It all feels sort of… fuzzy.

"-kie. Pinkie Pie?"

Too much sugar. Yeah. Yeah, that must be it. I finally experienced a point in my life where I had too much sugar, and-

But the thought alone made Pinkie giggle. Too much sugar; such a ridiculous notion.

Or it could have been the fact that Mrs. Cake's hoof was poking her in such a way that really tickled her ribs.

"Pinkie, why are you on the floor? Are you all right?"

The pink party pony pushed her eyes open with both hooves, grinning up at the concerned figure of Mrs. Cake. The swirl of interspersed mane atop her head fell over her face, giving her an oddly motherly look. She did seem thoroughly reassured when Pinkie woke up, and gave a little sigh of relief when Pinkie's grin widened.

The same look was also firmly frozen onto her equine face when Pinkie threw her forehooves around Mrs. Cake's neck, pulled her closely, and stuck her tongue in her mouth.

The elder mare stood stock still, although it was probably more from shock value than anything else. The look in her eye, though, portrayed what might have been a warped but tender moment.

A moment which was quickly ended by the sound of Pinkie Pie screaming.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" she shrieked, shoving off a very confused Mrs. Cake and wiping her mouth profusely with the crook of her forehoof. Pinkie gagged, eyes nearly bugging out of her head.

"Pinkie, what in the world has gotten into you?!" Mrs. Cake spluttered, struggling to regain her balance.

Who HASN'T, am I right?

Pinkie Pie, however, was far too preoccupied attempting to scrub her own tongue off to reply.

Mrs. Cake, while severely befuddled and more than a little embarrassed, attempted to take the 'stern adult' route in order to confront the bizarre situation while heat flooded her cheeks.

"Pinkie, enough of the practical jokes!" she tried not to stutter, resulting in Pinkie returning a very hurt look. "That wasn't funny!"

"But-but I…!" Pinkie strained, trying to find the right words.

Have an excuse? Are possessed by Satan? Have an alibi?

"No buts, Pinkie Pie!" Mrs. Cake scolded seriously, her own blush not nearly as red as Pinkie's.

"But-but-but-!" Poor Pinkie continued to blabber, apparently incapable of forming proper sentences any longer.

Is it an alibi? It's DEFINITELY an alibi.

"I said, no buts!" Mrs. Cake stamped a hoof against the wooden floor. "I can understand being relaxed on a weekend, but this is ridiculous!"

She stomped downstairs huffily, attempting to regain her poise.

Quick, she's not gone yet! Tell her it's an alibi!

"But. But. But. But," Pinkie merely continued to repeat in a dumbfounded fashion, staring blankly at the spot where Mrs. Cake had been moments ago as the voice in her head droned on.

Hurry! Tell her it's an alibi! Then, stab her in the face! Nobody must know where the bodies are stashed…

That actually managed to draw Pinkie out of her confounded stupor momentarily.

"Wait, what?"

Whee! You can hear me again!

Pinkie wheeled on the spot, breathing heavily. She was clearly lucid; it would be a little difficult to brush all this off as a really, really bad dream. It would have been nice, though. The surprise from finding herself kissing her employer definitely would have woken her up.

"Why are you doing this to me…?" Pinkie whined, grabbing fitfully at her mane.

She was on the verge of breaking down and crying, but that wouldn't do anypony any good. No, what she needed to do was keep her cool, take stock of the situation, and handle it the best she could.

Which was an unexpectedly mature step for her to take, actually.

Lawl. I know, right? Since when are YOU the mature one?

"Stop it!" Pinkie shouted at the air. "Stop reading my thoughts!"

Stop screaming at the ceiling! I still have a hangover, bitch!

Pinkie took in a deep breath and clenched her eyes tightly shut, blocking out all sight. She inhaled and exhaled a few times very, very slowly, deliberately taking as long as possible and completely clearing her mind.

Pinkie Pie ever so slowly cracked her eyes open, doing her best to remain relaxed and calm.

When she reopened her eyes, the first thing that greeted her was a slightly sleepy looking Gummy, lazily lying atop her dresser and basking in the morning sunlight on his back.

The sight alone brought a small grin to her face, which Gummy mirrored automatically. His upside down toothless smile even made her giggle a little.

"I don't even like alligators, and that is fucking adorable."

Pinkie violently stuffed both hooves back into her mouth, as if trying to catch the words and pull them back inside. Thankfully, she was alone when it came out, and wasn't even very loud.

She still said it against her will, though.

Stop it!

Stop what? The voice inquired slyly, drawing out the question.

Stop making my mouth make mouth noises without my brain's say-so for mouth making mouth noises!

Pinkie felt her hooves being slowly retracted, and an odd sense of misplaced balance suddenly overwhelmed her – however, it was gone the next second.

"Sorry, come again?" she was forced to say aloud.

"Stop making me say things!" Pinkie panicked, sitting down hard. Thankfully, the floor remained an ordinary and boring floor. Pinkie half expected it to turn into cottage cheese at the rate things were going.

Christ, I'm not making you say things, the voice explained. I'm jus' tryin' to talk, is all. This ain't real fuckin' easy for neither of us, you know.

Pinkie massaged her temples, the morning sunlight suddenly worsening her already growing headache.

Just a little voice in her head, was all. She was clearly losing her mind, nothing to worry about.

Keep tellin' yourself that, sweet cheeks.

Pinkie nearly forgot why she was so offended for a minute, but the confusing events of the entire morning swiftly rushed back to her.

"You made me kiss Mrs. Cake!" Pinkie furrowed her brows, and the rustling and bustling from downstairs indicated that there were quite a few other ponies busying themselves about. She briefly wondered if Mrs. Cake had told the others about it, and self-consciously rubbed her hooves together nervously.

Damn straight, the voice replied with a smug tone of pride. That bitch has gone some fine-

"Stop!" Pinkie bellowed, but quickly noticed how loud she was being and attempted to think what she meant.

Stop it! Just STOP!

Ms. Pinkamena Diane Pie, I admit that I have NO idea what you're talking about, he said innocently.

And that's another thing! How do you even know my name?

So, I take it you don't actually have, like, super-secret fourth wall breaking powers and shit, right?

What?

Of fucking course. Chalk it up to the goddamned fanon, the voice grumbled in dissatisfaction.

Pinkie breathed deeply, crossing her legs and trying to take a meditative stance.

"Okay," she said slowly, "I can fix this. I'm going to just stay here, and never move again," she stated aloud. Her determined expression agreed.

I disagree, the voice responded promptly.

She then found both of her front legs jittering forward, dragging the rest of her body behind with them as she was forced to pull herself through the doorway.

Wait, stop! Pinkie pleaded, desperately struggling to regain control of her unwilling limbs. No sooner had she finally managed to exert her influence over her left forehoof that her back hind leg began forcing her body forward as well, until she was hunched and scuttling toward the stair like a giant pink and deranged crab.

Why are you DOING this?

Why? For the glory of Satan, of course! The voice answered jokingly, pushing her forward a couple more steps. Now, quit screwing with my perception and let me figure the controls out.

Pinkie gave one last almighty heave backwards, and for a moment, she thought she'd finally won.

However, all she'd manage to do was throw all of her legs up into the air, giving her absolutely no balance at all as she toppled rather unceremoniously down the stairs.

She groaned in pain as she pushed herself off the floor, shaking her head slowly. Nothing seemed to be broken.

Except for your brain, obviously, and that went mostly ignored.

"Auntie Pinkie fall down?" Pound giggled, the miniature pegasus quirkily tilting his head at her misfortune.

"Yes," Pinkie responded uncharacteristically dryly as she blearily pulled her face from the floorboards. "Auntie Pinkie fall down. So funny."

"Yeah, Auntie Pinkie funny!" Pumpkin, Pound's unicorn twin sister, wheeled around the corner cackling as she dragged a ball on a string behind her. The motion drew her brother's attention, and the pair quickly left Pinkie to her own devices while they ran and played.

Her own devices mostly included leaning against a wall and then sitting down very hard as she suddenly felt woozy.

"You all right there, Pinkie?" Carrot poked his head into the stairwell. The bright shock of mane stood out beneath his cap, and he kindly extended a hoof to her to help her up. "You look a little pale; you weren't out in the rain again, were you?"

Oh, Celestia, please don't make me tongue him!

Aw, gross. Dude, that's gay.

"I'm fine!" Pinkie said a little too loudly, stumbling to her feet. "I'm just going… out, now!" she nearly shouted, the same fearful expression on her face as she backed out of the door, holding up one hoof as if to stave him off.

As the door swung shut with a loud bang! behind her, as he nearly tripped over the playing twins, Mr. Cake couldn't help but wonder if the poor mare had gotten into his heart medication again.

0-0-0-0-0

If Pinkie had thought it through more thoroughly, she might have realized that wandering about Ponyville with a mysterious voice in her head that randomly took control of her body parts was a bad idea.

To her immense relief, the peculiar spectator inside her pink noggin had decided to simply take in the scenery for a few minutes, which gave her some much needed silence.

Wow… the voice started up again before too long, and Pinkie's miserable sigh of discontentment escaping her lips went unnoticed by the ponies in the street she passed.

It all looks so… real! I mean, really, really real! This is so cool! The voice echoed more excitedly.

Well, yes… Pinkie thought quietly. Ponyville is okay. I guess you just sort of start to take it for granted after a while.

Fuck, what's with the sudden depression? The voice asked in an almost bored tone.

How would YOU like it if you suddenly woke up with somepony else inside your head? Pinkie thought bitterly, forcing a temporary smile on as she passed a familiar couple of street vendors.

Bitch, please. I don't know what's goin' on, either.

"You don't?"

Having stopped in the middle of her next step, her hoof came down a bit harder than expected, and she quickly checked to see if anypony had seen her talking to herself.

Odd, how an invasion of the mind can make one suddenly self-conscious.

I already said that! He insisted. Christ, nobody ever listens to me!

So… you don't have any answers? Pinkie thought as a glimmer of hope faded.

Not a clue. One minute, I'm watching ponies on Netflix. The next… I don't know. It gets a little fuzzy right there.

Pinkie suddenly felt one of her hooves shoot upward, and rub her cheek.

And now, I'M fuzzy. Heh heh heh.

She slapped her own hoof down, continuing her forward march angrily.

I said stop that! No moving my hooves, no making me say things-

Not even a little?

And absolutely NO kissing other ponies! Pinkie thought as loudly as she could, the scowl now evident on her face.

In my defense… the voice began slowly. Uh… I'm horny. And I would totally bang her.

What?!

I mean, I thought it was a dream. Just a dream… yeah.

Pinkie shook her head so hard, she thought her mane would come off. A sudden, rather disturbing influx of very, very naughty thoughts assaulted her mind, all of which including Mrs. Cake, her employer, benefactor, and helpful motherly figure in highly compromising positions.

Very revealing positions.

Aaaagh! Make it stop!

Whoa, shit. Didn't know that would happen, the voice said honestly, although it didn't stop Pinkie's newly developed twitch as she attempted to scrub the imaginary images from her eyes. Weird… does this, like, kind of mean that you can see some of my memories?

Pinkie, who had taken a few minutes to rest against the brick wall of a nearly run down looking pub, wiped a hoof over her face and tried to calm down before answering.

I don't know if – wait, memory?

Yeah, memory.

When could you- I mean, ANYPONY, really, ever see Mrs. Cake in a position like THAT?

Internet.

What?

Okay, the voice began slowly. See, clopping is when-

"MRS. CAKE ALREADY GAVE ME THE BIRDS AND THE BEES SPEECH!"

Her inexplicable outburst earned her a couple of hard stares from some of the passing ponies. One of which even had the nerve to proclaim "Er… good for you?"

But Pinkie Pie wasn't in the mood to discover who it was, nor did she have the energy to bother finding out.

She shook her head for the umpteenth time that morning, continuing her slow trek down the paved sidewalk. It didn't take her long to find the public library, which she darted into posthaste.

You know, you're kind of prude, the voice droned on. And rude. Prude n' Rude. That's you.

Well, golly-gee! Pinkie spat sarcastically. Let me just roll out the welcome wagon for the latest voice inside my head, because I'm SO prepared for that!

She conjured the mental image of a massive wagon with a sign on the side reading 'WELCOME', holding the thought for as long as she could.

… Seriously? That's all you've got? The voice tittered. Honestly, Pinkie. I expected better from you. No imagination, at all. That's so sad.

You still didn't even tell me how you know my name! Pinkie seethed, leaning against the library door and blocking out the outside world. Thankfully, the inside of Golden Oaks library was cool and quiet. But the door was unlocked, meaning there must be somepony nearby… and that would make speaking out loud difficult, meaning that she had to be extra careful not to let anything slip.

I already told you, the voice stated simply. Internet. Bronies spend a long time on that.

Bronies?

Plural of 'Brony'. We're terrible people.

Terrible? People?

Fuckin' Christ, you're like a Speak n' Spell. That's you.

Do you all talk telepathically? Pinkie asked, now a bit genuinely interested.

Nah, the voice answered. Humans don't have psychic powers. Not that I know of, anyway. Seriously, though, that shit would be cool.

Humans?

Great, so I take it this is one of the 'aliens' types, instead of 'just a myth' kind of thing. Does this mean Lyra doesn't have a hand-fetish?

How do you know Lyra, either?

Or maybe just foot fetish, he ignored her. That seems more like her kind of thing.

Pinkie harrumphed grumpily, crossing her forehooves.

Double standard. No wonder you say nopony listens to you; you never listen to anypony but yourself!

Shockingly, it was silent for a moment.

I think my name is Ralph.

That's… a really weird name, Pinkie thought admittedly. She hadn't noticed before that she was mirroring facial expressions to match what she was saying, and tried to stop. It was difficult.

Culturally, I guess, Ralph mentally shrugged, which gave her an odd feeling. Where I come from, 'Pinkie' would be really fucking weird, too.

"Pinkie Pie?"

The pink mare nearly leapt out of her skin, and she wheezed heavily as she clutched at her madly thumping heart. Pinkie hadn't expected Twilight to nose around the corner, cup of coffee levitating silently beside her.

"… Are you… here to check out a book?" the violet unicorn asked arbitrarily, a hint of optimism in her voice.

No sooner had Pinkie opened her mouth than she found herself flying toward the unsuspecting librarian.

Pinkie's body tackled Twilight, the coffee mug falling to the floor with a chink! She straddled Twilight with a mad cackle, holding Twilight's forehooves down with her own.

"Pinkie!" Twilight gasped in confusion, only to be met by a pair of suddenly sultry blue eyes. Pinkie relaxed her grip, although it wasn't by choice of her own, and she was forced to watch in horror as her own face drew closer to her friend's.

Twilight had all but stopped breathing at this point, unable to look anywhere but Pinkie's face. Her eyes belied an odd hunger about them, and she bit her lower lip with a needing gaze.

Oh, no you don't! Pinkie thought viciously, jerking and pulling mentally backwards as hard as she could, struggling to regain control.

I have to put my dick in Twilight, Ralph explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I need to be put inside a mental institution for other ponies' safety!

"P-Pinkie?"

"I HAVE TO BE INSIDE TWILIGHT!" Pinkie shouted in Twilight's face with all the subtlety of a nuclear explosion. Her mane was blasted backwards with nearly the force.

A little dazed, Twilight blinked and tried to push her mane back down. A small spark of magic alit the tip of her horn, and Pinkie felt herself being slowly raised into the air and carefully set back down a good five feet away.

"I-I didn't know you... harbored those sorts of feelings, Pinkie," Twilight tried to remain professional, even though her face had become a rather beet red in complexion. "But I simply am not ready for that kind of relationship with a friend."

Day-um, bitch. I think you just got friend-zoned.

Pinkie's legs were shaking, and she fought in vain to tell the evidently uncomfortable mare what ailed her.

However, every time she tried to say 'there is an evil monster named Ralph in my head', her lips mysteriously glued themselves shut.

Ha! Beat that!

To Twilight, however, it simply looked as if Pinkie were about to have an emotional breakdown.

Which, in coincidence, she was. For albeit different reasons, of course.

"Look, Pinkie Pie," Twilight began softly, rubbing her own face distractedly. "I understand that you get lonely sometimes. But you can't come running to me every time you need something," she said, attempting to magically collect the coffee from the floor.

"But-but-but-!" Pinkie spluttered at the unfairness, an unsettling sense of déjà vu settling over her.

"No buts," Twilight placed a hoof on her shoulder, guiding her out the door. "Maybe it would be best if we both just spent some time alone for now. Okay?"

Pinkie didn't even get the chance to answer before the door closed behind her.

And, as if to add insult to injury, she heard the lock latch into place only a moment afterwards.

… I'm beginning to get the feeling that Twilight Sparkle wasn't really in the mood for getting man-in-pony lesbo-raped, or something, Ralph mused quietly. Weird.

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Author's Note:

Weird, indeed.