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Smile, Smile, Smile! - Pinkie Pie Will Brighten Up Anypony’s Day!
                      -by Jank Rubz-                       
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                         Chapter 1                         
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Chapter 1
Smile, Smile, Smile!
Pinkie Pie Will Brighten Up Anypony’s Day
Pinkie Pie was upstairs in Sugarcube Corner, pondering about what her day would entail in her bedroom. She knew that she’d entertain the Cakes’ foals and go out for her morning stroll in Ponyville, but she wanted to try something different today.
“I know!” she exclaimed to herself. “How about I go and talk to every pony in Ponyville? It will be a personal achievement for today!”
Excited by this idea, she left her room and transcended downstairs to greet the Cake family’s babies. The foals, recently awoken from a good night’s rest, greeted Pinkie with a warm, welcoming disposition.
“I’ll start off with you two!” she excitedly squealed to the foals, which giggled in happiness by her presence.   
“That’s strange,” she remarked. “Usually you two aren’t so bubbly to see me.”  
Indeed, the foals were glowing with happiness and bursting with joy that it subsequently filled Pinkie with jubilance and confidence to fulfill her task for the day.
“But you two are the first on my list to greet today!” she said to the foals. “So hi, Pound and Pumpkin!”
As the foals mindlessly giggled, it brought a warm grin of glee to her face, as she began to leave the foals on her pursuit for her goal. As she went to exit Sugarcube Corner, she made sure to greet and give her farewells to Mr. and Mrs. Cake. As she left, the two Cakes began to converse with themselves at a slightly less-than audible tone.
“That Pinkie,” Mr. Cake began. “She’s just so… full of life.”
“I know,” Mrs. Cake retorted. “But I fear that it could bring the worst in her someday.”
“What do you mean, honey?” Mr. Cake replied in a concerned tone.
“Well,” Mrs. Cake began, hesitantly. “I fear that she’ll meet somepony that won’t take her bubbly attitude so lightly.”
“I don’t know if she’ll react as explosively as you’re implying,” Mr. Cake responded. “She’s not like that.”
“Don’t say that now,” Mrs. Cake replied, emulating Mr. Cake’s worried tone. “Remember when she thought she lost her friends simply because she forgot her own birthday?”
“Ah… Well, I just like to forget about that and simply keep an extra eye peeled on the foals. She is pretty sporadic.”
“’Pretty sporadic?’ You obviously don’t know Pinkie that well…”
Ignorant to the gossip of the Cakes, Pinkie set forth and began to greet every pony in town. She made her rounds hopping in the air gleefully beginning with Applejack’s apple stand, in which the ever-vigilant Applejack responded to her greeting with a warm but slightly perturbed hello.
Pinkie scoured every nook and cranny of the town to greet everypony she could see on the streets, including saying hello to such ponies like Heartstrings, Noteworthy, Big Macintosh, and many more that progressively brought a feeling of acceptance and happiness to Pinkie.
It was drawing towards the end of the day, and the sun was setting, making the perfect juxtaposition of crimson and orange in the sky with purple, comforting clouds blending into the sky like a well-painted canvas of a landscape. The day resembled completion, implying that Pinkie had completed her goal of greeting every pony in town. She hopped merrily through the town the entire day, exhausted by it all and awaiting the sweet allure of her bed and the sky to turn dark.
She was making her way home before she saw a pony she had never seen before. The pony was an Earth stallion that looked younger than her and, surprisingly enough, he had the same coat as her. He had a poignant pink coat with a conflicting, long-flowing mane covering half of his face that was a pitch-black as coal. His mane swooped over his left eye, making a curtain of sorts. His hooves’ colors were in perfect tandem with his mane, and his cutie mark resembled a simple-looking sad face, complementing the stallion’s sad disposition. It perturbed Pinkie just a bit to see that the stallion was a bit thin compared with an average pony.
She then approached the pony, hopping and such, and greeted him with a warm greetings.
“Hi!” she exclaimed happily. “I’m Pinkie Pie! I can’t say I’ve seen you before!”
The stallion took a moment to gather what he would say and, with much disdain, he managed to give Pinkie an answer.
“That’s because you haven’t,” he growled. “I haven’t seen you either. Now just leave me alone.”
The pony trotted past Pinkie towards the city, sinking his head and exhibiting a general feeling of malaise everywhere he went. Pinkie, not getting the implicit message at hoof, hopped happily while following the pony.
“Aw, what has you so down?” she said in a caring yet still bubbly voice. “Life can’t be that bad! Come on and turn that frown upside-down!”
“I can’t,” he said in a depressed town. “And you’ll never understand.”
Pinkie, being the persistent pony she was, eventually managed to hop in front of the stallion while still hopping backwards, essentially hopping in front of him while still looking at him.
“Well, I know how to cheer you up!” she exclaimed. “How about you tell me your name first.”
The pony let out an annoyed sigh and, through facial expression, showed his disdain for the other pink pony before him.
“It’s Emotional…” he muttered, much to his chagrin. “Now leave me alone.”
He started to trot faster trying to out-speed Pinkie into making her step aside, but she easily caught up, despite how exhausted she was.
“Emotional?” she replied, baffled. “That’s not a name I’ve ever heard of! Does that mean you’re just so… emotional?”
“Yeah, how did you know?” he said in a facetious tone. “Now go away.”
“He then started trotting at a speed that had forced Pinkie to step aside, and he retreated into a house, slamming the door behind him.
“That’s strange,” Pinkie said to herself. “How can a pony be that sad?”
She then thought to herself, contemplating what she could do about this sad pony she had come across.  
“I know! I’ll cheer him up tomorrow!” she exclaimed in exuberance. “I have nothing else better to do!”  
And so, the next day, after a good night’s rest, she bolted out of Sugarcube Corner and back to the prior location of Emotional, bringing with her a basket of individually-wrapped pink cupcakes.
“These pink cupcakes will cheer him up!” she said to herself while hopping through the town. “He’s pink, and these cupcakes are pink! This will surely put a smile on his face!”
After a short trek through the town, she managed to catch Emotional leave his house and start to depressingly trot towards the Everfree forest. Alarmed, Pinkie felt that she had to take actions into her own hooves.
“Wait! Stop!” she yelled to Emotional, causing him to turn his head in a startled manner. “That’s the Everfree! You can’t go in there!”
Annoyed to see her again, he felt that by simply giving her a legitimate excuse, she’d leave him alone.
“I always go here in the mornings,” he said in his signature, monotone, depressed voice. “It centers me.”
“What part of the Everfree ‘centers’ you?” she replied in a confused manner. “The fact that scary critters like Manticores exist in there?”
“I wish I’d see a Manticore,” he responded, sounding even more depressed than usual. “Then it could free me from the shackles of reality.”
He then turned his head and continued into the Everfree, with a baffled and slightly saddened Pinkie behind him. She slowed her hopping to a trot and expressed a legitimate concern for Emotional.
“But, the big and scary Manticores in the forest will devour you! Why would you want that?”
“Because,” he responded, with Pinkie trotting in perfect tandem with him. “I’d rather die than see another day in Equestria.”
“You shouldn’t say that!” Pinkie said in a shocked tone. “Everypony deserves to live!”
She didn’t get a response back, and she then noticed that there were some significant scars on his front and back legs. They looked like they didn’t heal properly, and they looked infected.
“Are you okay?” she shrieked. “Those scars look new!”
She made an effort to stand in front of Emotional, impeding his trail deeper into the Everfree.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “Yeah, well, I cut myself. Nothing special.”
“You cut yourself?” she cried. “Why on Equestria would you even do that?”
“It helps relieve the pains of society,” he said. “Life is just… So hard…”
He moved past Pinkie and continued to trot until he found a tree near a river, and sat at the side of the river, looking despondently into the flowing water.
“Gosh, I didn’t know that a pony could have things so rough in such a wonderful place like Ponyville,” Pinkie said in a worried tone, approaching Emotional and sitting near him while placing the basket of cupcakes near him. “What makes life so hard for you?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he replied. “No one understands.”
Clearly, Emotional was playing some sort of passive-aggressive persona here to attract Pinkie’s attention, but she was mainly concerned with the fabricated stories of his “life” he was telling her. They then sat there at the riverfront for a couple of hours, simply talking with him grunting, showing his scars, and complaining about his life with her caringly giving him her attention. He exposed her to his cutting rituals, much to her disdain.
After their engagement, he left her, claiming that he had to go to school. With her caring words and personality, she promised she’d see him tomorrow at the same spot for counseling, much to his disinterest. She then went back to Sugarcube Corner, not exhibiting her normal cheery attitude. As she trotted through the building, her melancholy disposition was contagious, as the Cakes’ foals starting emulating it, as well as it rubbing off slightly on the Cakes themselves.
“What’s wrong, Pinkie?” Mrs. Cakes approached her in a worried tone. “Something have you down?”
“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “There’s this pony that is just so miserable. Not even I could cheer him up.”
“You not being able to cheer somepony up?” the hovering Mr. Cakes chimed in. “Just who were you talking to, Pinkie?”
“This pony named Emotional. He’s a stallion that lives on the outskirts of Ponyville and he’s only a teenager, but he’s suffering so much.”
The two Cakes looked at each other with a look of fright as Pinkie went up to her room, depressed.
“She doesn’t know about that brat Emotional?” Mr. Cakes whispered to Mrs. Cake. “Sweet Celestia, when are his parents going to get onto him?”
“I know,” Mrs. Cakes replied. “He’s a self-destructive little runt that doesn’t know how good of a life he has.”
“Should we tell Pinkie about him, honey?” he responded.
“I think Pinkie is old enough to know right from wrong,” Mrs. Cakes responded solemnly. “She’s a big filly. Let her deal with this accordingly.”
And so, the next day, Pinkie didn’t tend to her hair after waking up. Strangely, her hair had “deflated,” to resemble a straight-down hairstyle. She had a slightly darker yet boldly symbolic tinge to her, and she looked much more melancholy than the day before. She was in her own personal bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror.
“Why can’t I make this pony happy? What can I do for him that would make him happy?”
She then departed from Sugarcube Corner and back to the location Emotional went to everyday. Upon arriving to the spot, she noticed Emotional was there, but he was indifferent to her changed hairstyle. She then took a seat next to him.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said to her, annoyed. “What do you want?”
“I want to know why you’re really so sad,” Pinkie responded. “Nopony has such a terrible life as you describe it. I want to know how I can help relieve the pain you experience.”
For the next two hours, Emotional spewed his philosophical fallacies to Pinkie, who simply just took them in and, with an ever attentive personality and ear, she took it all in and was subconsciously shaping her mind around what he was saying. Anything he said was molding her fragile, clay-like brain.
“You clearly have it rough,” she said to him. “I just wanted to help…”
He looked at her in her eyes, staring into her vacant, deep pools of blue that occupied her eyes, and he started to lean in close to her face to the point where his breath would lash her face with its rotten smell of what she perceived to be coffee.
“You… You just don’t understand…”
He then kissed Pinkie, locking lips and closing his eyes, forcing his tongue through her lips. She had no way to counter this action he made, so she wrapped her arms around Emotional and accepted his kiss. Both of their eyes were closed, and they were wrapped in such a delicate, passionate kiss. Suddenly, Emotional pulled away, leaving a caught-in-the-moment Pinkie to be detracted and confused.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, embarrassed. “Dammit...”
“I,” Pinkie started, still baffled by Emotional’s actions. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he responded, despondent as usual. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
She inexplicably blushed from his sporadic gestures and speech, and she wanted more from him. She felt that she had known him for so long, due to his words forming her malleable mind.
“I have to go,” he said, as he rushed off, leaving Pinkie behind to wallow in her newly created sadness and longing for Emotional, even though he was in a completely different age group as her. It didn’t matter to her, really. She was already corrupted by his “grace.”
That day, Pinkie went back to her room In Sugarcube Corner, looking even more miserable than before, much to the Cakes’ disdain. They never really bothered her too much that day, so she was free to gather her thoughts in privacy. At least, that’s what the Cakes’ thought. That day, Pinkie was joined by some old friends of hers.
She looked at herself in the mirror and started talking to herself, looking even more miserable than the day before.
“Judging by how bad he has life, what about mine? I live in the upstairs of my employers and all I do is make other ponies happy. I never do anything for myself.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” a familiar voice rang to her from behind. It was a high-pitched, obviously faked French accent, but she delighted in its presence for that moment. “It’s not your fault you’re just so altruistic.”
She knew it was her faithful Madam Le’Flour, sitting atop her armoire in her room, sitting there in the rare event that Pinkie had to entertain the Cakes’ foals again.
“You’re right, Madam,” Pinkie responded to the actual inanimate bag of flour. “I am pretty caring and charitable. Ponyville just doesn’t see that.”
“You should show your enthusiastic devotion to the entirety of Ponyville!” the flour sack responded. “They all take you for granted!”
“You’re right!” Pinkie responded enthusiastically. “I only wish to make other ponies happy, but everypony takes it for granted! I’ll just have to show Ponyville that I can make the world a better place: both for Equestria, and for Emotional!”
And so, Pinkie began her spiral into mental-sanity degradation. She then realized that she could make Equestria truly “happy” by putting a smile on every pony’s face. She felt that a smile was pivotal to making anypony happy. And the first pony she had on her list of making them smile was Emotional. She decided to meet him the next day at his usual meeting spot.
She enacted to do so the next day, looking even darker and more depressed than before, but much to her surprise, he wasn’t there. She then immediately bolted to Emotional’s house, still remembering where it was, and barged through the door, startled at seeing no pony thriving. She then scoured the house to procure her lover and tell him about her glorious idea. She had then bolted up the staircase in the house and barged down a random door to see a horrifying visage of a dangling, levitating Emotional.
His room was a mess, but she could clearly see that Emotional was being hung from a beam on the ceiling via a poorly-constructed noose. She quickly dashed through the room, dodging mounds of clothes and accidentally stepping in syringes deeply buried within said clothes, and balanced herself on a stool nearby. She bit the rope as hard as she could and the rope tore, leaving Emotional to cascade to the floor, limp and lifeless.
“Oh no!” Pinkie exclaimed out of sheer worry. “Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.”
She felt for a pulse and felt that he was slowly breathing, but barely. She could tell that his skin tone was very pale from the strangulation that occurred.
“Are you okay?” she implored the unconscious body. “Come on, get up, now!”
* * *
Emotional woke up in Pinkie Pie’s bed in Sugarcube Corner. No pony knew of his location at the time, except for Pinkie Pie. She was “talking to” Madam Le’Flour again when he finally woke up.
“What the…” the pony, who then had a raspy throat said. “I shouldn’t be here.”
Pinkie, hearing Emotional speak and show some semblance of being alive and conscious, jubilantly hopped out of the bathroom and back to his bedside to greet him for his “recovery.”
“Emotional!” she cried. “I’m so glad you’re alive! What were you doing with that rope tied to your neck? You could have killed yourself!”
“I was trying to kill myself, you idiot,” Emotional responded while making some sort of contorted look of annoyance on his face. “And… Hey, why can’t I move?”
It looked to be that Emotional was trying to turn over, but he wasn’t moving his body at all.
“What’s wrong?” Pinkie said, feeling dejected. “I didn’t do anything to you.”
“Yes you did!” he yelled back. “You restrained me for no reason! I can’t move at all!”
Contrary to what Emotional was saying, he was not bound down to his bed. In fact, to Pinkie, he wasn’t even moving at all.
“What are you talking about?” Pinkie replied in a confused manner as she lifted up the blanket he was wearing, revealing his unrestrained body. “See? I never restrained you. I would never do that to another pony.”
“Then why can’t I move?” Emotional cried back. “Did you numb my body or something?
“I…” Pinkie stammered. “I think you’re paralyzed, Emotional.”
“What?” Emotional snapped back. “I can’t be paralyzed!”
“You are, Emotional,” she responded back solemnly. “In fact, I’ve been flicking your leg the entire time we’ve been talking. Then, upon hearing what you said, I flicked you even harder, but your body didn’t respond at all.”
“Dammit, Pinkie!” he growled. “If you’d just let me die, I wouldn’t be like this! I wouldn’t be paralyzed! I wouldn’t…”
His yelling turned to a whimper.
“I wouldn’t be alive…”
Emotional looked even more dejected than before, with Pinkie at his side uncontrollably weeping.
“I’m sorry!” she yelled with tears strolling down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to cause any of this!”
“Well, you sure did mess up, didn’t you, Pinkie?” Emotional responded, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. “You bumbling idiot. You could have just let me die and you’d do me and the whole world a huge favor. Instead, I have to keep living without the ability to end it all!”
“Well, I still don’t know why you have to kill yourself,” Pinkie said. “We could have been together. That kiss the other day, it showed that you still see something wonderful in this life-“
“That was nothing!” he growled back. “That was just ‘spur of the moment’ stuff. I’ve exhausted you of what you’re worth. Now you’re just impeding my goals at this point. Just dump me somewhere.”
Pinkie didn’t know how to react except by endlessly crying. She felt ultimately betrayed for entering a relationship with some pony she thought she understood. Some pony that she thought loved him. She knew that it was a taboo thing to do, but she went by her gut emotions, now realizing that it was a mistake.
“I… I loved you…” Pinkie uttered. “I thought-“
“Are you still talking?” Emotional snapped back. “Just shut up, okay?”
Now there was the confirmation. The confirmation Pinkie needed to sever ties with Emotional, even if he had made such a large impact on her in such a small time-span. Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice from behind her.
“You know what to do, Pinkie,” the voice of Madam Le’Flour said from atop her armoire, her eerie voice echoing in her ears. “Deal with him accordingly. He no longer loves you! If he is truly unhappy with his life, just go ahead and ‘make him smile!’ Make him love you!”
“Why are you still talking?” Emotional interrupted. “You sound like a lunatic talking to yourself!”
“I’m not talking to myself,” Pinkie said with a menacing grin attached to her face. “I was just getting some good ideas from a friend of mine.”
“What?” he responded, startled. “You psycho loony! Let me out of this house!”
“In due time, Emo,” Pinkie said with a sickening look of insanity. “But only after I’m done convincing you to be happy…”
She took a thick book she had from her bookcase and she slammed it hard against Emotional’s head, making sure to strike various time to knock him out. After some violent swings of the book, he was finally knocked out.
“Time to invest in some supplies,” Pinkie said to herself. “I’ve got work to do.”
* * *
After a few hours or so, Pinkie was successful in the relocation of Emotional’s unconscious body down to a mysterious and dank cavern of sorts. It looked to be a basement, probably belonging to Sugercube Corner. Emotional had awoken with a throbbing headache and a gag in his mouth. He was unable to spit it out due to a tape of sorts applied to his face. He could feel that it was mould of sorts that formed his face to form a smile, on account that his face was sore from smiling. He didn’t know what was going on or where he was, but he knew that he’d suffer for what he had said to Pinkie.
Pinkie had then entered the basement from a staircase leading up to the surface world. She had on a white apron and some white surgical gloves. She was carrying down with her a tray of tools that resembled scalpels on her back, according to Emotional’s view of the situation. Pinkie then approached Emotional’s body in a pseudo-jubilant manner, setting the tray on a nearby table and standing on her hind legs to get to eye level with Emotional.
“You know, I was really hurt when you said those things about me,” Pinkie said to him in a demented voice, rubbing his face with her gloved hoof. “But now we can change all of that. I took care of you when you were in my house, so now you owe me a favor. I just want you to smile!”
She removed the tape at such a velocity that it severely hurt Emotional’s face, leaving a large red mark on it with some slight laceration. From under the tape, Pinkie revealed that the mould had made a sickeningly sinister smile upon Emotional’s face to the point where it looked impossible to even have.
“And I wanted you awake so that you could experience it all consciously!” Pinkie chimed in. “I’ve also injected a serum to paralyze the muscles in your face so that you’d keep that sweet looking smile until I’m done with you!”
And with that, Emotional found that he was completely helpless, barely being able to jerk his head to resist whatever Pinkie was about to do to him. He persisted to try his best to give Pinkie a hard time performing what she was going to do, but in the end, it turned out to be a very minor distraction to Pinkie.
“I’ve been reading up on this for some months, now, thanks to Twilight,” Pinkie said while she gathered her tools from the nearby table. “The book was really informative, and it practically taught me how to sew! It’s strange how I never really learned to sew up until these last few months. Now that I have you in my life, I can put my skills to a true test! You’re going to be my first!”
Pinkie revealed that she had a surgical thread and a needle balanced in her hooves. The thread resembled to be a thick, black wire of sorts, definitely not a thread. It was sharpened at both ends, and proved to cause some substantial pain to Emotional. Emotional’s facial muscles were paralyzed for those brief moments, but he knew that he’s really be punished by feeling Pinkie sewing his mouth into a smile.
He screamed as loudly as he could, but his cries were muffled by the mould in his mouth. Pinkie then gleefully approached Emotional with her menacing tools and started threading the needle.
“Silly needles. I forgot to thread it!”
With the needle threaded, she finally closed in on Emotional’s face. She then stuck the needle into his right cheek, hitting right at his dimple. His muffled screams grew louder with the pain of the needle entering his face. She bobbed the needle in and out of the skin, sewing the top and bottom half of his mouth with the tender care of a surgeon but with the malice of a butcher. She made sure to go as slowly as she could, so that Emotional could feel the wire ripping apart his skin from the inside out. Several careful weaving of the tender flesh canvas Emotional’s face provided proved to be quite the activity for Pinkie. It allowed her to emphatically express her disdain for Emotional at that moment in time.
After an hour or so, Emotional looked tired and desperate. He drooped his head out of exhaustion, but didn’t realize that it annoyed Pinkie.
“Don’t sleep!” Pinkie said. “I still have to cauterize your new smile!”
Emotional turned his head up to reveal his butchered mouth. His mouth formed a devilish grin that possessed the idiosyncrasies of the mould smile, except for this smile, Pinkie made sure to thread it carefully so that the smile was wider and more unrealistic than before. The wire was showing through the skin, and blood had trickled down from his mouth down his chin. His wounds already looked infected.
Pinkie turned her back and had revealed that she had a portable hotplate with her, glowing red with the visage of intense heat. She had taken a slab of metal and coated it with tape and was pressing it against the hotplate. She let the metal part “cook” on the hotplate for about five minutes or so before taking it off and trotting towards Emotional. She precariously balanced the taped part of the slab on her back, expecting not to accidentally burn herself.
She had then made her way to Emotional, whom it was revealed that he was being hanged from the ceiling with chain hooks digging into his arms. He didn’t really notice this on account that he couldn’t necessarily move his head to see how he was being suspended in the air. The skin around the links was looking to snap and give way like paper, so Pinkie made sure to use her time wisely.
She grabbed the slab from off of her back and held it carefully while getting back on her hind legs. She held the dangerously-hot metal part of the slab to his face and giggled like a schoolfilly.  
“This will only hurt for a few moments!”
She then pressed the slab against his still-paralyzed face, but with him still feeling the full pain of the heat. After a few moments, Pinkie was satisfied with the hideous mess she had made out of his face. The singed flesh had made curdling sounds of cauterization, binding the thread with the skin to essentially weld a smile onto Emotional’s face. She had also accidentally singed other parts of his face, but she wasn’t too concerned about the festering red wounds she had created upon his face.
“There!” Pinkie proclaimed with enthusiasm. “Now you look happier! Now was that so hard to just crack a smile for Pinkie?”  
Emotional simply let out a tired moan of pain and something along the lines of “No more, please,” but Pinkie wasn’t too caring of what he had to contribute. The flesh at the ends of the chain hooks were showing significant damage, so Pinkie put some stools under his hooves to balance him and got onto a stool herself to readjust the hooks. She still had the hot slab and, with some careful hoof-work, she had managed to insert the hook into a deeper part of his left arm, and managed to cauterize the wound it created while merging the skin with the iron of the hooks simultaneously. She had then replicated the same action for his right arm.
After all the tedious work, Pinkie had “invited” Emotional to a “tea party.” With this, Pinkie had established a complex, elaborate chain network attached to the ceiling of the basement that allowed her to pull a chain to either increase the elevation of Emotional or decrease his elevation. She had positioned him to “sit” in a chair at a pink-cloth-covered round table, arms still hoisted in the air from being held by chain hooks.
Joining him at the table were the ever-distinguished special guests of Pinkie Pie’s: a pile of rocks, a ball of lint, the infamous bag of flour from Pinkie’s armoire, a bucket of turnips, and a vacant-looking baby alligator: all wearing party hats. Pinkie then emerged from an unknown room in the basement balancing a tray of assorted goods on her back. She then carefully balanced them on the table, with the alligator just staring vacantly at Emotional.
“Thank you all for coming to this grand celebration!” Pinkie Pie had addressed to the “guests” of the table. “For all of my normal attendees to my parties, meet Emotional, or, as I like to call him, my little Emo!”
“Welcome to the party!” the randomly-assorted inanimate objects “said” to Emotional, who could only stare at Pinkie in sheer horror and disbelief.
“Now then,” Pinkie began. “This is a celebration to commemorate the first time Emotional has ever smiled! Give this pony a big round of applause!”
She had then imitated clapping for the entirety of her “guests.”
Pinkie’s goal at the end of the day was complete: she had made Emotional “happy.” She finally got him to smile. And for that, Pinkie had a very special friend to “hang” around with. One that could endlessly smile to cheer her up on those sad days she randomly got. And she had someone to join her for parties when her other friends were busy. Emotional could even move to give her hugs and such, granted that there was some moving of the chain network to get his arms moving against his will. At the end of the day, she felt content.