With weapon-switching agility that would make even the most elite Call of Duty quickscoping clans jealous, Pinkie whips out her Party Cannon and blasts your ass with an entire bag of sugar before you can so much as blink. Once you did blink, you found yourself fired out of the throne room, through the wall, and sailing high into the air across the cityscape, the airtime allowing you to briefly marvel at how the sugar had perfectly caramelized across your chest from pure friction alone. Which wasn’t long, sadly, as you immediately snap back to the pink pony that gave you that carbohydrate bukkake in the first place, rocketing straight towards you atop an oversize firecracker with a trail of confetti and a look of absolute fury and hatred.