Pi(e) Day in Ponyland

In honor of Pi Day (3/14), I'm reposting this story from the old forum. It was a response to the March 2009 writing challenge. The challenge required the concept of luck to be a main part of the story, and also required the story to include a painting, a party, and a cape.

Pi(e) Day in Ponyland

Ponies weren't usually mathematically-minded. There were other, much more important things to worry about, after all--weather patterns and picnics and magic and how to stop the Bushwoolies from lowering Shady's self-esteem by agreeing with her every time she claimed to be a miserable failure not worth the air she breathed. Things like that were much more important than math.

So when Windwhistler approached Majesty asking for a royal decree to create a math-centered holiday, most ponies weren't sure what to think. And then they realized that the holiday was centered around pie.

Well, technically it was pi, but no one cared about little details like the lack of an E.

Majesty wasn't entirely sure about the holiday herself. Ponyland had had its own calendar system for ages, and only in recent years had anyone started paying attention to the calendar used by Megan's world. Granted, the two systems did correspond to each other rather nicely, but still, the phrase "March fourteenth" didn't mean much to your average pony.

It meant an awful lot to Windwhistler.

"The date of March forteenth--three-fourteen, if you will--is symbolic of the mathematical value of pi, valued at three-point-one-four-one-five-nine-two-six-five-and so on. Humans in Megan's world have recently begun hosting celebrations in honor of this numerical value on March forteenth, and I hereby request that we do the same."

Majesty sighed, knowing full well that it was either this or deal with some other inane issue on her to-do list. (And frankly, she didn't feel like writing Scorpan to sort out the debacle with his Elvish ambassador. Who knew there'd be such a tiff over lack of hair care products in the guest room?)

"And what," Majesty said, "would this Pie Day incorporate?"

"Pi Day," Windwhistler corrected her.

"Pi Day," Majestry repeated dryly. "Right. How do we celebrate it?"

"Baking pies, of course," Windwhistler stated. "As well as participating in a number of mathematical activities."

"Can we skip the math?"

"No."

Majesty sighed. The masses didn't care much for math. But they did care for pie, so maybe this holiday wouldn't be a total flop. "Very well," she said. "I hereby decree that the denizens of Dream Valley will celebrate Pie Day on March fourteenth." Pause. "When is March fourteenth in our calendar system, exactly?"

"This is a perfect example of the importance of math," Windwhistler said. "March fourteenth is the tenth day of the Cyan Stripe. And it's Pi Day."

"Got it. In that case, Dream Valley shall celebrate Pi Day on the tenth day of the Cyan Stripe. Go forth and alert the masses."

"Many thanks, my queen," Windwhistler said, bowing low before flying off.

And so, on the tenth day of the Cyan Stripe--or March fourteenth, as Windwhistler insisted on calling it--the masses found themselves happily baking pies, and less happily engaging in mathematical activities.

"Um, I don't get it," Quarterback said, ears flicking back and forth. "What's the point of this, exactly?"

Windwhistler sighed. "The purpose of the exercise is to exert one's memory in an effort to recall the correct sequence of numbers that make up the numerical pattern of pi for as long as one's memory allows one."

Quarterback stared at her, brows scrunched together in consternation. "What in the name of Light does that mean?"

"It means you need to use your brains, dunderhead," Gusty snorted. "Provided you have any left after all the tackles you've taken..."

"Well maybe you'd like to try, Miss Smarty-tail," Quarterback snapped. Gusty rolled her eyes.

"Sure. Fine. Whatever." She studied the paper Windwhistler had, which showed the first one hundred digits of pi. After a moment, the blue pegasus pulled it away, and Gusty closed her eyes as she recited the numbers. "Three one four one five nine two six five...and that's all I remember," she said, opening her eyes. Quarterback snorted.

"That's it?" he demanded. "Honestly."

"Okay then, let's see you do better, Mucus-for-Brains!"

"My pleasure!"

Windwhistler suddenly realized that she was in a rather bad place, stuck between two feuding ponies. She didn't have much choice to do anything about it, though, aside from hold up the paper and let the two opponents stare at it.

Elsewhere in the Pi Day celebration, a pair of colts made their way through the crowd of picnickers. One of them carefully carried a pie on his head. The other had a satchel slung over his shoulder and looked dubious.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Ribbs..."

"Of course it is, Lucky," Baby Ribbs--who really considered himself old enough to drop the "Baby" part--answered, moving carefully so as to not drop the pie. "It's a great idea."

Lucky didn't look convinced. "I don't really think so."

"Well I don't think; I know. She likes cherry pies. A lot. I made her a cherry pie. It's the perfect plan!"

Lucky shook his head. "Yeah, Ribbs--she likes cherry pies. Not you. Heck, she doesn't even know you. Except for maybe as that weird colt who follows her around with the dazed look on his face."

Ribbs ignored the jab. "Well, after I give her a cherry pie--which she will love--she will know me. And then she'll like me. And then..." He sighed happily and trailed off, a dreamy look on his face. Lucky rolled his eyes.

"You, my friend, are hopeless. Haven't you forgotten that she's, like, a hundred years older than us?"

"Doesn't matter," Ribbs said stubbornly, marching onward. "Today is my lucky day."

Lucky froze in his tracks. Ribbs gave him a funny look.

"What is it, Lucky?"

"You just jinxed it," the other sighed.

"Did what?"

"Jinxed it, you idiot."

Ribbs rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course I did."

"You see that wooden table?" Lucky demanded, nodding toward one of the picnic tables. "Knock on it."

"What? Why?"

"You need to knock on wood. Now."

Ribbs sighed. "Oh, don't start with your silly superstitions," he ordered, and then a black cat walked right in front of the two boys. They watched it meander across their path and disappear into the crowds. Lucky felt the blood drain from his face.

"scrap," he said.

"What?" the other asked.

"A black cat just crossed our path."

"So?"

"So, that's bad luck! Great Rainbow," he groaned. "I can't believe this..."

Ribbs sighed again. "You're impossible," he stated. "Come on, let's go." He walked on. Lucky pulled his rabbit's foot out of his satchel and rubbed it a few times before following.

"Don't you want a good luck charm, Ribbs?" he asked. "It might help."

"Oh, please. I don't believe in that stuff!" Ribbs snorted, and he walked right under the ladder Shady was using to hang up the "Happy Pie Pi Day!" banner, complete with giant pie painting. Lucky watched in horror.

"Ribbs--!"

And of course, Ribbs was so busy keeping the pie on his head balanced, he wound up bumping into the ladder. Shady had a very shrill scream.

"Oh!" Baby Ribbs exclaimed. "Uh...sorry, Shady." The pie, at least, was safe.

"It's okay," Shady moaned. "It was my fault. It always is."

"Are you kidding?" Lucky demanded. "Ribbs was the one who walked under the stupid ladder!"

"For the love of the Rainbow, get off of those silly superstitions!" Ribbs exclaimed. "They'll never get you anywhere!"

Lucky pulled a four-leaved clover out of his satchel. "Here. Take this. Trust me, by now, you need it."

"No, I don't," Ribbs growled, taking the clover from Lucky. "Here, Shady," he said, holding it out to her.

"Oh! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," Ribbs answered, moving on. Lucky hurried after, pulling his rabbit's foot and another clover out of his satchel for good measure. He didn't want to get infected with bad luck because Ribbs was being an idiot.

"Now," said idiot said, looking around the Pi Day picnic. "Where is she?"

"Uh..." said Lucky, looking about. He finally spotted the mare they were looking for. "Oh! There she is!" he said, pointing at a group of Summerwings.

"Perfect," Ribbs grinned. "Now, I'll just walk on over there and give her the pie, and...and..." He smiled dreamily, again, and stepped forward. Unfortunately, he should have looked both ways first, because he wound up barreling into Heart Throb.

"Heavens!" the pink peg shrieked as she fell forward. Ribbs somehow managed to save the pie. Lucky, however, didn't manage not to scream.

"OH GREAT RAINBOW, YOU BROKE A MIRROR!"

"What?" Ribbs asked, looking at his friend.

"Oh, dear," Heart Throb said as she picked herself up. "It seems that you have broken my mirror, Baby Ribbs." The colt frowned slightly at her use of the honorific "Baby", but he refrained from saying anything about it.

Instead, he said, "Why on earth were you carrying a random mirror around?"

"To make sure I look my best, of course," Heart Throb sniffed. "You never know when you'll meet your true love, and I want to look gorgeous when I do."

"This is bad," Lucky whimpered, rummaging through his arsenal of good luck charms. "This is bad, bad, bad."

"Goodness, it's just a mirror, dear," Heart Throb said.

"IT'S SEVEN YEARS OF BAD LUCK!!!" Lucky shrieked. He was holding his rabbit's foot, seven four-leaved clovers, an amulet, a horseshoe, and a male tortiseshell cat. Ribbs had no idea where he'd gotten the latter.

"Don't be silly, dear," Heart Throb chided. "The only problem with a broken mirror is that I don't know how I look." She fixed Ribbs with a shrewd gaze. "I do look alright, right?"

"Yeah, fine," Ribbs told her, trying to move past her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a girl I need to get to--"

"Oh?" Heart Throb asked. "A girl? Really?"

"Yes," Ribbs said emphatically.

"Well then, don't let me stand in the way of true love!" Heart Throb exclaimed, pushing him forward. Unfortunately, she pushed just a little too hard, and Ribbs suddenly found himself hurtling toward the group of Summerwings. He bowled over Lady Flutter, who crashed into Little Flitter, who screamed as she toppled into Sparkler, causing the unicorn to panic and accidentally set off a bolt of lightning.

Not too far away, Quarterback was steadily matching Gusty digit for digit.

"--five zero two eight eight fou--AHHHH!!!" the stallion shrieked as several volts of electricity found their way into his body. He stood for a moment, dazed, slightly singed, hair standing on end, and smoking, and then he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Gusty looked at Windwhistler.

"Ha! I win!"

"I'm not certain. Your triumph was determined by the interference of outside factors as opposed to your opponent's capabilities--"

"I said, I win, you walking encyclopedia. Now give me my prize."

"Gusty...there isn't a prize."

"WHAT?!?"

Back in the group of Summerwings--who were now collapsed on the ground--Ribbs found himself face-to-face with the mare of his dreams. The cherry pie had crashed onto her head and was dripping down her face.

"Uh...hi, Glow."

She stared at him for a moment before answering, "...Hi?"

Lucky ran up behind Ribbs, somehow managing to hold on to all his lucky charms (despite the cat's attempts to get free). "Now do you believe in bad luck?" he hissed.

"Don't interrupt, dear," Heart Throb ordered, smiling at Ribbs and Glow the way someone does when they're living their life through someone else. Ribbs decided not to dwell on how annoying she was, and focused his attention on the blue Summerwing before him.

"So, uh, Glow..." he began uncertainly. "I, uh, baked you this pie, see..."

A few cherries oozed their way down her nose. "Ah," she said. "Thanks, I guess." Pause. "You're Ribbs, right?"

He brightened. "Yep! That's me!" And he turned to Lucky. "She knows my name!"

"I noticed," the other answered dryly. The cat hissed and clawed at his hooves, forcing Lucky to let go. "No, come back!" he shouted as the feline ran away.

"From what I can taste," Glow said, licking where the pie was dribbling down her face, "this is a very good pie."

"Thanks," Ribbs grinned. Heart Throb sighed happily. Lucky rolled his eyes.

Elsewhere, an Elvish ambassador was throwing a fit at Majesty's picnic table.

"I demand that you fix this at once!" he screamed, throwing his cape back dramatically. "No double-deluxe conditioner in my room! The nerve! This is an outrage! How dare you treat an Elf of my standing this way! My king will be certain to hear of this, I assure you!"

Majesty and Scorpan had been friends for years. They didn't even need an ambassador between their kingdoms. The pony queen knew for a fact that he just sent this pompous Elf out on "diplomatic missions" when he decided he just couldn't stand him anymore. She only wished Scorpan's escape methods didn't involve her getting the short end of the stick. She hoped the man knew just how lucky he was to have a friend like her. Still...there was no reason she couldn't return the favor. Magic Star had really been getting on her nerves lately...

"We'll break off all contact with Dream Valley! Our alliance is over! Over, I say!"

"Shut up, Ambassador," Majesty said cheerily, working her way through a slice of lemon meringue. "Have some pie."