> The Cost of Choosing Somepony Else's Happiness > by grapemoon > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > It'll Cost You a Hoof > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pinkie Pie knew from the moment she was given the opportunity, that she’d be willing to go to great lengths for this concert. Sure, being a fan helped, but what was far more important was the fact that Countess Coloratura was the number one pony pop star in Equestria! Having a big name like that perform in Ponyville would be incredible! And her friends would be so happy, both with the concert itself, and with her, for setting it up! She never would’ve imagined, though, that the lengths she’d go would be this intense. Pinkie gulped as the cold blade was set against her wrist. She was sat in a cold, dark warehouse, out of sight for any onlookers, with her left front leg on the table. An earth pony she didn’t know held the blade – a large cleaver – while Countess Coloratura’s manager, Svengallop, stood near the door. He looked down on her with disgust. “All day today, I’ve been asking simple things of you,” he ranted, “and not a single one was done correctly!” She stomped for emphasis, making Pinkie Pie instinctively flinch back. All of the orders had given her a headache, shown off by her frizzy mane and the eyebags she carried. “I’m sorr-” “I don’t care how sorry you are, Pinkie Pie,” he spat out. “Enough is enough! I’m sick and tired of your mistakes. You need to pay.” He nodded to the mysterious earth pony. She reckoned he was a bodyguard of sorts, judging by his dark sunglasses and suit. His neutral face gave off no reaction. “If you still want your precious pony pop star to perform,” Svengallop continued, “you’ll let my associate here cut off your hoof!” “What!?” Pinkie yelled, attempting to jump in surprise. She was cut off by the blade against her, and yelped as it nicked her. “Why would I let you do that!?” “Then I guess you don’t want the Countess to perform after all.” Pinkie Pie bit her lip, staring at the ground in contemplation. She wanted Countess Coloratura to perform, yes, but the one thing she wanted more was for her friends to be happy. And, minus Applejack, all of her friends would love to see Coloratura perform; it’d make them happy. And if it took losing her hoof to make happy, then…  Pinkie sighed. “I’ll do it.” “Great!” Svengallop said cheerfully. Without any further warning, the knife was dug into her skin, making her scream. “Not so loud!” Svengallop scolded. “If anypony finds us we won’t be able to finish, and the deal’s off, got it?” Pinkie looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but nodded slowly through the pain. She tried to make a sound of affirmation, but it came out as a whimper instead. “Answer me when I speak to you!” Svengallop stomped his hoof on the ground again. Pinkie made a pitiful sound as she attempted to speak. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” “Yes!” Pinkie forced out through the pain. “Yes, I get it!” “Good.” Pinkie Pie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the pain coursing through her wrist. The sound of cutting made her gag, and she dared to open an eye, forgetting that curiosity killed the cat. She could see her skin separating. The earth pony was sawing through her wrist like she was meat. Memories of watching Fluttershy do the same to fish right before feeding her animals flashed through Pinkie’s mind, and she felt her vision get blurry. Blood was leaking out of her. She didn’t think that even her biggest injuries of the past bled this much. Right as consciousness felt like it’d slip out of her, Svengallop was hitting his hooves against the floor again. Pinkie looked up, startled and groggy. “Wake up!” He demanded. “You’re not even doing anything and you’re already falling asleep on me? Maybe I should just call this whole thing off altogether!” “No!” Pinkie slurred out. “No, no, I’ll… I can do it! I’ll stay awake, see!” She opened her eyes as wide as they’d go, and Svengallop squinted at her. “Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll let it go this time. But any more slip ups like that and you’re out of luck, party pony.” He put extra emphasis on the p’s, like saying them made him want to spit the words out of his mouth. Pinkie wished she could understand it. Was she really that repulsive, or was he really just that awful? Could it be both? Pinkie looked anywhere but Svengallop’s eyes, and anywhere but the cleaver. She let her eyes linger on the pool of blood that settled around her hoof. Soon, it’d be dripping off the table. She found her mind wandering. What was she going to do about her hoof? She doubted he’d let her keep it. Would he even consider it? How was she going to go about her day with one of her forelegs missing a whole hoof? Even if somepony managed to save her partway, it’d still be partly off. Would they just sew it back on like nothing happened? “It’s okay,” she found herself mumbling as sweat formed on her forehead. “It’s for the concert. It’ll be fine.” She smiled a little, with one eye closed to show it as more of a grimace. The concert would be a success and her friends would be so happy with her. She tried to ignore the tears pricking the corners of her eyes, swallowing hard. A jolt of pain hit her like a tractor, making her hair frizz up and eyes shoot open. She screamed, loud, and quickly turned to look at her hoof. He’d hit a bone. “Maybe if you stopped squirming it wouldn’t hurt so much,” Svengallop taunted, checking his watch.  Pinkie fought to keep her breathing quiet. The pain was forcefully brought to the forefront of her mind, and she shook slightly. The cleaver made an awful noise as it sawed through the bone, one that felt as if it were scratching at her very core.  She swallowed back a gag as she felt it fully slice through the bone, and continue through flesh. Every nerve was screaming at her, teeth bared in an impression of a smile to the point of further pain. She sucked air through her teeth, and stared down at her leg, unblinking.  It was almost fully off now, and hung limply away from the rest of her. She could see the inside of her foreleg, and could feel the blood spilling out of her. She’d never felt a breeze on her nerves before, and she wasn’t all too keen on it.  A wave of nausea and pain hit her as the sound of the cleaver banging against the table echoed through the room, and she watched the blood-soaked knife slowly rise away. She watched in horror as her hoof slowly fell onto the table, limp. Her head spun. “Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you!” Svengallop told her in that deceptively cheerful tone. “And remember, if you tell anypony it was Countess Coloratura’s manager that did this to you, nopony will believe you. And if they do… Well, you have more than one hoof, don’t you?” He stomped his hoof on the floor, prompting the still-unknown earth pony to stand up and pick up the severed hoof. Pinkie Pie stared up at it with a feeling of numb horror as the limb was carelessly tossed into a bag with the knife. Without a word more, the two stallions left, leaving Pinkie Pie alone. She swallowed thickly, and slowly turned to stare at her leg.  She could see the severed bone. It was a relatively clean cut, all things considered. Shaking, she tried to lift it. It felt lighter and heavier all at once. That difference in pressure was all it took to break the dam; she gagged, lurching to the side to avoid spilling her guts on the table.  Sweat dripped down the side of her face as she heaved up the few contents of her stomach, having been too busy being pushed around throughout the day to eat anything substantial. Acid lightly burned at her throat, leaving her vomiting on the floor again in reaction. The corners of her vision began to darken, and her thoughts became hazier. She dry-heaved and gasped for air, her eyes darting back to the gory scene on the table. Pain coursed through her, and Pinkie made no attempt to cover her cries as she leaned forward.  As darkness filled her vision, Pinkie Pie wished for nothing more than her friends to find her after the concert. They deserved to enjoy themselves first.