The Bliss of Ignorance

Chapter 3: Real Friends

The cold morning air bit at Pinkie’s flesh the moment she opened the door. As she trotted through the streets, giving her usual greetings, she noticed that she got greeted back fewer times than usual, and that the little groups of ponies she walked past tended to fall into hushed whispers.

Weird.

She looked at her shopping list and walked to the cherry stall, smiling at the burly owner. “Hello, can I buy some cherries?”

“Sure,” he said in a grumbling voice. “How many do you want?”

“Not many, just twenty. I want to spruce up a few cupcakes, you know?”

The vendor nodded and started loading the cherries into a paper cornet.

Something was... odd. Pinkie couldn’t put her hoof on it, but the way he hoof-picked them from the top of the barrel, always circling his hoof above it and picking one... Her eyes fell upon the large cherry by the barrel’s edge. Is he...?

“Hey, hold on a second!” Pinkie grabbed his hoof and pointed at the cherries. “Why are these cherries smaller than the others?”

“What are you talking about? They’re all the same!”

Pinkie looked at the cherries again. These are definitely smaller than the others! He’s… he’s being mean to me! “Are you trying to swindle me?”

“What?”

“You might think I’m all stupid and arbitrary and a clown and whatever, but I won’t get cheated, nuh-uh! Pinkamena Diane Pie won’t let herself get robbed.”

He yanked his hoof from her grasp. “What the hay are you saying? That I’m some petty scammer?” He shoved the cornet into her face. “They’re the same as any other!”

The little groups of ponies began pooling together, forming a small circle around the arguing pair. Now’s my chance. I’ll show them I’m no fool! And I’ll show them that they can’t just get away with being mean to me! Pinkie sneered at the stall owner. “Yeah, right. Guards!”

“Shut up, girl! Are you crazy? They’re exactly the same!” He waved the ponies to come closer. “Come on, everypony. Take a look! Nothing but completely ordinary cherries; not bigger, not smaller than usual.”

Old Mr. Waddles peered over Pinkie’s back, while Junebug looked from the side. “Well...” she said. “I guess this one is a bit smaller than the rest. But just by a little. Half a millimetre at most.”

“And this one’s a bit bigger,” Mr. Waddles said, pointing at another cherry in the cornet. “It’s a completely regular bunch of cherries, I say.”

“What? But that’s...” Pinkie looked at the cherries again and then at the ones in barrel. They were just the same, sans the sole big one. “Well, I... I... Uh...” With each word, she seemed to shrink a little. “I guess I got... mistaken.”

Pinkie heard Daisy snicker behind her. “Yeah, and when you kicked Hoops and Score out yesterday, I bet that was a mistake too.”

“What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s obvious what you were trying to do!” The vendor slammed his hoof onto the counter. “You wanted to scare me into giving you a discount! I get a few customers like this every once in few months, but girl, you take the cake!”

“No, that’s not true!”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned towards her. “Then tell me. What pony would even care whether the cherries are slightly smaller or not? The difference is minimal. Even if you really thought they were, you’d just buy them anyway if you had no other motive!”

Pinkie opened her mouth several times, but no sound came out. “I... I guess I thought...” Her voice was trembling.

“Thought what?”

“Thought that maybe you secretly had something against me and wanted to be mean to me without me noticing.” Pinkie bowed her head. “I... I guess I was wrong.”

“Why the hay would you think that anyway?”

“W-well, the party!”

“The party? Are you saying we were the ones being mean?” a male voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd. “Unbelievable!”

A mare standing next to Pinkie, Sassaflash, scoffed. “I’d be quiet about yesterday if I were you. You ruined the whole thing, and now this?”

Pinkie’s brows clashed together. “Ruined? I was the one who organised it!”

“And then completely killed the whole thing,” Caramel said, and several ponies in the audience nodded. “If you didn’t like those two, you shouldn’t have invited them instead of making a scene.”

“B-but I didn’t know that! I only found out during it. They mocked me for being so forgiving!”

The stallion smirked. “Yeah. I bet a mare who makes a ruckus about the size of cherries got called out on being too forgiving. They had a different, more likely story.”

Pinkie’s face went pale. “What did they say?”

“That you just wanted to humiliate Dumb-Bell further. First, he’s the only one not invited, and then you throw out his friends? I thought they were just making stuff up, but it makes the most sense so far.”

“T-that’s a lie!” She looked around herself, at the scowling faces surrounding her, and shivered. “Leave me alone; it was a mistake!” She began galloping back to the bakery, bumping into the ponies that stood in her way. She almost couldn’t see the road over the tears in her eyes, and the shouts and remarks from behind her created a bitter, round dumpling in her throat.

———

I’m sure it can’t be like that. I mean I’ve known them half my life! Pinkie Pie trotted through the street, wearing a trench coat with the collar up and a fedora, which hid her now-straight mane. After all, should a strand of her pink tail or hair poke out, the disguise would’ve been ruined. They were mean to me because they thought I did something wrong. I’m sure they’ll realise it’s nonsense. It took her a few hours to get herself together after what had happened, but the Cakes were kind enough to give her some time off. I mean nopony would hold a grudge over this, right? I’ll apologise again, and everything will be fine.

The stall was close, and not a single pony seemed to give Pinkie a second glance. At least something worked for once.

The vendor was leaning against his barrels, discussing something with Rose. “...believe that?”

“I think it really was just a mistake,” Rose said. “I mean if she needed the money so badly, she wouldn’t have organised that party in the first place, right?”

Pinkie stopped and her ears perked up.

“One would think so, eh?” The vendor gave Rose a dark smile. “Have you ever wondered where she gets the money for these things?”

Pinkie continued walking, circling the stand and silently slipping behind the large stack of barrels.

“What do you mean?”

“Only that it’s hard to imagine being an assistant in a bakery could net her enough to afford it. Hay, one party like that would swallow everything I earn in a month.”

“Well, she has to get the bits somewhere.”

“Exactly!” The vendor clopped his hooves together. “Now, I don’t have any proof, but I think she’s getting it from the Cakes.”

What? Pinkie scowled.

“I mean you know how they were all the time,” the vendor said. “Wishing for a foal for years, and then she suddenly popped up – a friend asks Carrot Cake to take care of his little daughter, and their prayers are answered, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if all the food and drinks ‘on the house’ were actually ‘on the Cakes.’”

Pinkie could feel her stomach clench. W-what? That’s... that’s not true. He can’t actually think that!

“I... guess it’s possible,” Rose said, slightly nodding. “Still, if she had all this, why would she try to cheat you for a few stupid bits?”

“Heh-heh.” He tapped the side of his muzzle and leaned towards her. “Now, that’s the thing. The Cakes have their own kids now, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, let’s just say that bringing up twins can make a hole in the budget, and that, as we all saw yesterday, our dear pink friend isn’t exactly shaping up to be a model step-daughter. Maybe they decided it’s time to stop being a charity?”

B-bu-but...

Rose lowered her voice. “You mean they told her to pay for it herself?”

The vendor smiled again. “You said that, not I. But if that’s the case, I imagine she must be neck-deep in debt. I bet she’d want to cut back on some... expenses a bit then.”

Debt? Mom and dad still send me some allowance, I get a regular wage, and some of my friends chip in; that’s how I can afford it!

Rose tilted her head. “I guess that makes sense. But... come on. It’s Pinkie Pie we’re talking about. She wouldn’t try to cheat you.”

Pinkie sighed, her face lightening up a bit. Thank you, Rose. I knew you were a good friend.

The vendor cocked his brow. “Is that so? Well, if this were two days ago, I guess I’d agree, but I wouldn’t have thought she’d kick Hoops and Score out either. Not to mention I’ve been hearing some rumours about her slacking off when she thinks nopony’s looking and what not. You know, all those times she just ran off on an ‘adventure’ or something, and you enter an empty bakery. I can’t believe Carrot Cake puts up with that.”

Oh...

Pinkie bowed her head. This part was true, there was no denying it. Whenever something interesting was going on, she stopped whatever she was doing and galloped to take a look. More often than not it meant one of the Cakes was forced to take over all her duties.

On the other hoof, the Cakes had always managed to pull it off anyway, although they looked mighty exhausted afterwards. Still, they never complained.

He’s got a point. What if the Cakes don’t manage one day? And that they don’t complain doesn’t mean they don’t mind. What if... what if they were just waiting for me to apologise on my own all that time? I never actually did. Pinkie’s heart started racing. I’ve... I’ve never realised... Not even apologising, that’s... Oh my gosh. I am a slacker!

Without a moment to spare, Pinkie started galloping back towards the Sugarcube Corner.

———

“Welcome to the Sugarcube Corner, the home of the best treats and sweets in Ponyville. How can I help you?”

Sweetie stopped dead in her tracks and raised her brow. “Uh... Pinkie?”

“If I may suggest, how about a nice cream roll?” Pinkie pointed at the treat, her face stretched in an abnormally wide grin. “Or would you prefer a sweet roll? I’m sure a chocolate filled croissant would sate your appetite.”

Sweetie frowned. “Pinkie.”

“We have the greatest selection of cupcakes in the area, all made from fresh, regional products. The recipe used dates all the way back to–”

“Pinkie!” Sweetie walked towards the counter, the frown still etched on her face. “I know what cupcakes are made of and I don’t want to hear their entire history! Also, you know I don’t have the bits to buy any of the things you talked about, so why do you even ask? Oh, and your smile is creepy.”

Pinkie sighed and started massaging her cheeks. “Sorry. I’ve just been trying to boost the sales for some time now, and this book Twilight gave me a few days ago says that I should try to assist the customer and make suggestions.”

“It was just weird. Why would you follow some stupid book anyway?”

Pinkie ran her hoof over the cash registry, biting her lip. “I need to make more money.”

“Why? You never seemed to be low on bits to me.”

“Not for me. For the Cakes.”

Sweetie furrowed her brow. “But why? Can’t they earn their own?”

“It’s not that, it’s just... I feel like I should work harder. That’s all.”

“Well, alright, do what you want.” Sweetie shook her head and hoofed Pinkie a piece of paper. “Rarity’s going to cook something big today; said I can invite a friend. Normally, I’d call Applebloom or Scootaloo, but they’re both busy today. Would you like to come?”

Pinkie inhaled the air in a long, wheezing gasp, her head shooting up and eyes widening. “Can I?”

“Sure. She’ll be happy to have her own friend over for once.”

Pinkie jumped over the counter and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you so much!”

“I-it’s not really that much of a deal,” Sweetie said, smiling.

“R-right. Sorry.” Pinkie released her and ran towards the back, loading the necessary items into a bag. “She wants some cupcakes? She still didn’t learn how to make desserts, right?”

Sweetie shook her head. “The best she made tasted like butter.”

“But...” Pinkie frowned. “Butter flavour isn’t that bad.”

“It was supposed to be a tiramisu.”

“But there’s no butter in– Ooh.” Pinkie nodded, her expression hardening. “I’ll have to share a few tips with her. Anyway, here you go.” She hoofed her a bag of treats. “When should I come?”

“Seven o’clock.” Sweetie put the bits on the counter. “It should be just enough.”

“I’ll come at seven sharp!” Pinkie started counting the bits. “Why is she making a big dinner anyway?”

Sweetie’s eyes darted to the ceiling. “Uh... no reason.”

Pinkie scowled on the bits and started counting again. “No reason? But Rarity totally wouldn’t do it without one. She’s busy with her dresses and doesn’t have time for cooking; she told me so.”

“I... uh... I guess she wasn’t busy today?”

“But she told me she had this big order just last–” Pinkie lift her head from the money. “You’re one bit short.”

“Oh.” Sweetie scratched her head. “I guess Rarity counted it wrong when she gave them to me. Can’t you just let it slip?”

Pinkie sagged. “I’m sorry, but no. I can’t hand out cupcakes for free, or even with a discount anymore; what would the Cakes think?”

“Can’t you lend me that bit then? Rarity will give it back right once you come.”

“No.” Pinkie shook her head, her eyes digging in the ground. “I used everything I had left on the party. Like always.”

Sweetie groaned. “Just write it down somewhere! You’re going to see me in a just while; I’ll give it to you then. Just remember to come at seven, okay?”

“Right.”

“Great.” Sweetie smiled, took her purchase, and trotted towards the door. “Oh, and Pinkie?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t listen to the stuff other ponies say about you; they’re just mean and stupid, and will stop when they see you don’t care. The only thing that matters is what your true friends think about you.” She winked at her and left.

Pinkie sighed. And who are those?

———

“Come in!”

Pinkie wiped her hooves on the doormat and entered the boutique, standing in the middle of an empty room. “Rarity?”

“Upstairs!”

She shrugged and walked to the second storey, turning towards Rarity’s room and opening the door.

“Surprise!”

Pinkie’s jaw dropped. The inside of the room was decorated by streamers and balloons, the floor covered by confetti, and a gramophone started playing in the background. In front of Pinkie stood six ponies – her closest friends plus Sweetie Belle – all of them wearing party hats and wide grins.

“Girls?” Pinkie closed her mouth, beaming at them. “Is... is this for me?”

“It sure is, Pardner!” Applejack tipped her hat and threw her a cupcake, which she gulped down the moment it reached her. “We’ve heard some folks have been treatin’ you wrong.”

“And saw how sad you’ve been these last few days,” Twilight said.

“So you threw me a party?” Pinkie’s smile was wider than her muscles should allow. “That’s like the bestest gift ever!” She leapt towards them, pulling each one into tight hug.

“Speaking of gifts, Darling,” – Rarity squeezed herself out of Pinkie’s iron embrace – “I happen to have something for you.”

She walked to a table and presented Pinkie Pie with a neatly wrapped, flat present. “It’s something I was already working on for a different customer, but when I heard the things some ponies were saying about you – especially the customer herself – I cancelled the order and reworked the dress for you.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash said. “I flew to town today and everypony was talking about you like you were the next Nightmare Moon – what’s up with that? I was just about to kick some flanks when Fluttershy told me she’s having this party here.”

Pinkie cocked her brow. “Fluttershy? You made all this?”

“It... it was no bother, really.” Fluttershy blushed. “I just saw how upset you were after your party was over, and thought that maybe you’d like one where you don’t have to take care of everything. Do... Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Pinkie hugged Fluttershy extra hard. “I love it! I haven’t been this happy in ages!” She looked at the wrapped package Rarity was still holding in her hooves. “Can I open it?”

Rarity giggled. “Naturally, Darling. That’s what it’s for.”

Pinkie let go of Fluttershy and moved to the gift in milliseconds, tearing the wrapping off. “I asked because you might have wanted to only give it to me at some special time, like when you wait until the cake is sliced on birthdays, even though it’d be rather silly to tell me what was inside if you wanted me to open it later, beca– Oooh, pretty!” She lifted a large, cream-white dress in front of her.

“Try it on, Darling. I hope I got the measures right.”

After a while of struggling with the laces, Pinkie managed to slip into it. “It fits just great!” She looked down at the fabric, letting her hoof slide across its smooth surface. “Thanks, Rarity!”

“It was no problem, Darling, really.” Rarity waved her hoof. “I’m just glad you feel better. Seeing you in such a bad spirit was simply horrendous.”

Pinkie’s eyes moistened as she smiled. “I’m just so happy you all noticed. And that you’re all my friends. If any of you treated me like they did, I’d... I’d...”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Sugarcube.” Applejack slung her hoof around Pinkie’s neck. “None of us would ever say anythin’ bad to you. Right, Twilight?”

Twilight’s smile skewed. “W-well, I... uh... maybe if you really annoyed me or something? I guess I might say some bad things then, b-but I wouldn’t really mean them!” She shook her head. “Anyway, what’s important is that no matter what, we’ll always be here for you, Pinkie. Regardless of what other ponies say, you will always be our friend.”

“Thank you Twilight.” She turned towards the others. “Thank all of you. This really means a lot to me.” She took a hoofkerchief that Rarity offered her and wiped her eyes. “I should stop being such a downer though. This is a party, so let’s paaar-tay!”

———

I. Feel like. Dying.

Pinkie stood behind the bakery’s counter again, stretching her face into a grin despite the immense intestinal torture going on inside her bowels.

I knew that cake tasted funny. But did that stop me? Nooooo.

The pain came in waves, every time spiking through the roof, and then just disappearing, building up strength for round two.

I hope the girls feel better than I do.

Just when her digestive system seemed intent on strangling itself, the door opened and in walked a young mare with yellow mane. “H-hello, Cherry Berry. What’s it gonna be t-today?”

“Hello, Pinkie.” Cherry took a deep breath and smiled. “It sure smells nice in here, what were you baking?”

I knew I should’ve taken a day off!

“S-some coconut treat balls.” Pinkie twisted behind the counter like a hula hoop champion, hoping against odds that it might unclog her gut. “W-would you like any?”

“Well, I don’t know.” She tapped her hoof against her chin. “I don’t feel like risking a new flavour.”

Make it stop! Make it st–

A loud gurgle emanated from Pinkie’s tummy, and her muscles relaxed. The grin stretched wider. “Well, Cherry, I can say with a hundred percent sureness that those coconut balls taste coco-tastic! I had several myself, and they were the yummiest thing this week.”

A lot better than that cake, at least.

“I’ll take a few then. Give me five.”

Pinkie turned to the cupboards, opening one and loading the treats into a paper bag.

“You know,” Cherry said, leaning against the counter, “I’m glad to see you so cheerful again.”

“Oh? Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”

“The town just didn’t feel right with you so down.”

Pinkie looked at her with cocked brow. “Thanks again. But why?”

Cherry Berry giggled. “Well, I guess I just missed your antics. I’m no old crone, but it still brings back memories.”

Pinkie’s brow furrowed. “Antics? What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. All that silly singing and dancing, playing with foals...”

The furrow turned into a frown. “I don’t think my songs are silly.”

Cherry smiled at her like one would smile at a little filly. “Of course you don’t. But I look forward to it anyway.”

Pinkie dropped the bag on the counter, her eyes digging holes into Cherry’s. “Thanks. I guess.”

“Sorry, did I upset you?” She pouted. “I didn’t mean to do that. Your songs are great, all the foals love them.”

Pinkie grit her teeth, her face stuck somewhere mid-grin. “That’s... not really the problem I had in mind.”

“R-right!” Cherry’s eyes darted around the room. “Your dancing looks good too. A bit dangerous to stand too close, if you ask me, but not silly. Nope. I mean you won the junior championship last year, right?”

“You’re missing the point,” Pinkie said through her clenched teeth.

Cherry’s face contorted like she was about to give birth. “Uh... Um... Err...” Her eyes fell on the bag. “You... want me to share one with you?”

“What? No!” Pinkie threw her hooves up. “Stop talking to me like I’m a filly!”

“Oooh.” Cherry bit her lip and her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like... Well, okay, maybe I did, but there’s nothing wrong about being a bit...”

“A bit what?”

“You know. A bit...”

“A bit what?”

“Childish.” Cherry looked away from Pinkie.

Pinkie gave her a hard stare. “You don’t talk to me like I’m childish. You talk to me like I am a child.”

“I-I think I should go.” She quickly grabbed the bag and put the bits on the counter, galloping out of the store.

Pinkie leapt towards the door, drawing air into her lungs. “I’m not a child!”

Nor am I a clown! ‘Antics!’

She returned to her post, staring at the entrance like it was her mortal enemy. To think I used to give her a discount! ‘Childish’ my flank. I’m not stupid; I can think!

I mean it’s not like I can’t be smart without being super-serious all the time, right? Her face contorted. It’s not like she doesn’t join every time anyway! She wants to do the same stuff I do, but then is all like ‘Nope. Wasn’t me. Just Pinkie. I’m too adult and mature to ever have fun!’ Hypocrite!

The door opened again and Pinkie’s brows flew up, while the corners of her mouth drooped further. “What the– Score? What do you think you’re doing here? I told you and your friends to stay away from m– I mean stay away from the bakery!”

“Uh... hi.” He scratched the back of his head, his eyes jumping from one place to another, but never meeting hers. “I came to... uh...” He took a quick peek at her before looking away again. “Err... Nice dress. He-he...”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“What?” His brow wrinkled like a pair of caterpillars. “N-nothing. I just said it looks nice.”

“Yeah, right!” Pinkie slammed her hoof on the counter. “Like Dumb-Bell said I’m a hard worker, huh? This dress was made by a friend – real friend – of mine, just so you know, and if you have a problem with it, say it outright!”

Score recoiled. “No! That’s not what I meant. I just came here to...”

“...to laugh at the clown right? Just because Twilight isn’t here doesn’t mean you can do that – I’ll shout for guards!”

“I’m leaving, okay? Jeez.” He walked out of the door, looking at her from the street. “Not in the bakery, see?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. And here I thought I was the clown here.” Pinkie slowly clapped. “What do you want?”

He sighed. “Look, I was drunk at the time and Hoops’s been pushing me, right? Well, later I figured–”

“Hey, Score!” Dumb-Bell’s voice came from behind the corner. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Why weren’t you at the pub today?” He came into view. “Ooh, I see! Laughing at the Clown, eh? Good thinking, that sounds like much more fun.”

“I– uh... sure!” Score looked back at Pinkie. “You’re... uh... stupid because...” He threw a glance at Dumb-Bell. “Uh... because your dress is ugly!”

“What?” Pinkie’s face reddened. “How dare you?”

“Hey, you’re right,” Dumb-Bell said with a smirk. “New costume, Clown?”

“Leave me alone! Guards!”

Score tapped on Dumb-Bells side. “Maybe we should go.”

“What? Why?” He laughed and started speaking in a high-pitch voice. “‘Oh Mr. Guard! They said mean things to me; arrest them. Boohoo!’ It’s not like they’ll come anytime soon, right?” He laughed again and turned around, staring right in the face of an armoured stallion. “Oh. Uh... hello... sir.”

“Scram.”

“I told you we should’ve went away!” Score whispered, loudly, to Dumb-Bell.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Dumb-Bell rolled his eyes and started trotting away. “It’s not like we did anything illegal.”

“And you.” The guard looked at Pinkie. “Stop shouting for guards all the time! This is the third time this week – we have more important things to do than babysit you!”

“S-sorry.” Pinkie bowed her head.

The guard harrumphed and walked away.