Lining the walls of Minty’s living room were balloons; their colors consisted of red, blue, yellow, and green. Hanging from the ceiling were streamers, decorated by pink and blue stripes. And the true centerpiece was the banner, which read: “HAPPY CUTE-CIÑERA MINTY”.
Minty and the fillies ran around the room playing games of all types. Occasionally, however, Pinkie—the one that organized the party— would join in on their fun. Despite the age difference, the fillies embraced her shining glow as she participated. The food, especially the cake, was delicious. And the music was perfect to sing along to.
The general consensus of the event was “perfect”; not a single thing was wrong or boring for anypony there. Even as most of the guests were leaving, Pinkie insured that she said goodbye to each and every individual. The smile painted on her face radiated over to theirs, allowing them to exit with warm feelings.
By the time the crowd had cleared out, Minty, her parents, and Pinkie were the only ones left.
“Thank you, Pinkie Pie,” Minty’s mom said.
“This was the best cute-ciñera ever!” Minty cried.
The filly’s squeal stretched Pinkie’s grin even further, overwhelming her with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.
“You have to plan her birthday party,” her father jumped in.
“Yes!” the party planner exclaimed as she bounced in the air. “June 6. That’s not for a while but if that’s what she wants.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Well, have a nice night.”
“Thanks! And you too!” Pinkie cheered as she waved her foreleg back and forth.
“Bye Pinkie!” Minty said.
“Bye Minty!”
Pinkie trotted out the door and skipped down the streets of Ponyville. A small sliver of Celestia’s sun remained glimmering in the twilight sky. She gazed upward and saw several faintly visible stars that would soon be bright as day. The roads were mostly empty, with the exception of several ponies racing their way home.
Minty’s house was pretty close to Sugarcube Corner and before she knew it, Pinkie flew through its door to see the Cakes.
“Hi!”
Mrs. Cake turned to see her smiling employee and neighbor. Automatically, the older mare’s own lips curled into a grin.
“Well good evening, Pinkie. How was the cute-ciñera?”
“It was great! Everyone loved it!”
“That’s good,” Mrs. Cake responded as she wiped off the front counter.
The pink party planner opened her mouth and yawned. Her face stretched in order to suck in the air.
“Wow,” she said, her voice affected by the yawn, “I’m pretty tired.”
“In that case, good night,” Mrs. Cake said.
Pinkie bounced over to her counter and leaned her body against its surface. Using both of her forelegs, she wrapped her employer in a hug.
“You too, Mrs. Cake.”
The two ponies separated and briefly stared into each other’s eyes. Pinkie gave her one last smile before turning to head up the stairs. She trotted up each wooden step as she recalled the smiles she brought to Minty and the fillies at the cute-ciñera.
“They were all so happy,” Pinkie thought.
Upon reaching her room, she jumped straight into her bed and beneath the comfy blankets.
“Sleepy time for me…”
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine her dream land: her friends, upbeat music, delicious sweets, and color. She could see and hear everything waiting for her. Her eyes brightened and she felt herself trying to pull away the space separating her from the paradise. But yet, she couldn't feel herself in the scene. The colorful sky and the mountain of cake before her felt more like a portrait with a lifeless, flat surface. The jubilant sounds were more like something she'd hear on her record player.
“Huh....I guess I’m not so tired after all…”
As she rolled in her bed with her eyes closed, the scenic dreamland was replaced by recollections of the cute-ciñera. There she saw Minty giggling and playing with her friends, smiling when she opened her presents, and eating cake with a big smile on her face. Pinkie felt weightless, the cords of concentration relaxing.
“Yep..." she said to herself, "it was just about…"
Another newly formed memory of Minty's living room flashed before her. Although Minty was most certainly smiling, Pinkie couldn't help but notice something toward the ceiling. Her imaginary eyes went to a streamer and pinpointed a specific stripe— which happened to be blue. She then followed the pattern down the line— pink, blue, pink, blue, pink, blue, pink, blue, pink.
"Wait a minute! The first one was supposed to be blue! Not pink!"
At that moment, she remembered receiving suggestions from Minty and her parents when she was planning it. Her ears were wide open and her pen scribbled words onto paper. Her memory scanned through that list until it came across "blue and pink streamers" written on the list. Those words— that were also uttered by Minty herself— rang out in her head like a bell.
“Oh my gosh! It wasn’t what she wanted! It wasn’t perfect!"
The smiles and laughs no longer emitted that warm feeling. Every moment of the cute-ciñera— a small bit of the recent past— was as certain as the distant future.
"Maybe...she didn’t see it…"
Pinkie tried to re-imagine Minty's toothy grin and shining eyes but it didn't come as quickly as it did several minutes ago. She examined every detail and traced back to insure its validity but with every check and recheck, little progress was being made.
"Why I am fooling myself? She did see it! Everypony saw! She was probably a little bummed to see that."
Pinkie tried to relax once again but thoughts flooded her mind.
"No, not a little! She was furious! But she kept it to herself because she... pities me."
She squeezed her eyes shut and her body cramped ever so slightly.
"Just like everypony else."
Every detail was now under close inspection. Subtle gestures and expressions were forced into the spotlight under Pinkie’s eyes.
"But...this is all so silly. I mean, everyone loves my parties. They wouldn't get cranky if there was one teeny tiny slip..."
For a moment, her mind flipped back to when Minty opened one of her gifts, a new bicycle. She squealed upon seeing the shiny pink body and woven basket. She brought her hooves up to a horn, which was propped on one of the handles, and squeezed it. A loud sound burst from the horn and she chuckled. Pinkie saw the filly exploring the gift and her smile grew to the size of a house. Minty jolted to her and jumped into her forelegs, thanking her for such a wonderful present.
Her chest warmed up upon seeing the look on Minty's face.
"Yeah...I'm a super duper party pony...and giver of smiles..."
But then her memory switched over to one of her other friends, Cranky Doodle. At one point during the festivities, she went over to him and Matilda to catch up with the couple. She jumped before the smiling duo and greeted them. At that moment, she could have sworn she saw Cranky's smile twitch. It was brief and subtle but noticeable enough for her to see.
“He was annoyed by me. He didn't want some crazy pony jumping right in front of him!"
Cranky's smile never faltered while talking to Pinkie. After the twitch, no trace of it remained.
"Maybe it was an accident."
Pinkie tried to draw Cranky's face during her conversation with him. But even with his relaxed eyes, his noticeably large smile, and calm voice, she couldn't help but hear words under his breath, his eyes forcing themselves to remain fixed on her, and his muscles tensing up.
"Again, I’m only lying to myself. He was clearly annoyed! I can’t blame him!
And the cake wasn’t pink and blue eith— blue and pink! What’s wrong with me?!”
She tossed herself to the other making, emitting a large sound from the springs in the process.
Pinkie froze everything, including her mind.
“Did Pound and Pumpkin hear that?”
Her ears felt like they grew ten times their normal size to hear silence— silence that never amounted to sound. Finally, after hearing nothing for a while, she sighed.
“Good....at least I have a little worth…”
She tried once again to clear her mind of any crippling thoughts— to see pure darkness and hear pure silence.
“One of the candles was probably half a degree away from ninety.
Those drinks probably made Minty go to the bathroom one more time than necessary, meaning less fun.
Sure she liked them. But why couldn’t I have made them like...no-bathroom drinks where you don’t have to go to the bathroom.
I think that might be impossible.
It doesn’t matter! I can be in two places at once for crying out loud!
And I hope I made Wysteria feel good. She probably wouldn’t want to live in the same town as a crazy pony.”
Her eyes squeezed even tighter but such an action only prolonged her state of consciousness.
“Best party planner in Ponyville? What kind of planner would make silly messes like that? At least they’re nice enough to feel sorry for me. I keep telling myself I’ll fix the messes with the last party but while I fix the things I messed up on last time, I mess up in other things because I don’t think about them as much. Why do I always see these things after the party? Oh right, because my mushy brain is slower than a snail!"
She tried to shut out all of those thoughts and replace them with better ones. One that came to mind was a birthday party she had a while ago. The pony there told her it was the best day of his life. She also thought of the party she threw when Mr. and Mrs. Cake had their foals. The newborns were laughing at the antics she displayed before their young eyes.
"But next time, I will be better. And that’s a Pinkie Promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye."
She ran through the physical motions while lying in her bed. And then, her mind was clear; she no longer felt she had to strain herself to fall asleep.
“Hello, Dreamland…”
She was back in Ponyville; the sun was shining high in the blue, cloudless sky, the streets were crowded with her friends, and her lips couldn’t help but smile.
“Good morning, Roseluck!” she cheered as she approached her market stand. “These flowers are just beautiful!”
“Why thank you, Pinkie. Do you want one?”
“Yes please,” she answered. She opened her blue saddlebag and produced several bits from one of the pockets. She tossed them onto the wooden surface, causing unsynchronized clattering as the coins struck it. Upon seeing them, the flower pony grabbed a marvelous daisy and handed it to her customer.
“Have a nice day!” Roseluck said.
“Thanks! And you too!”
Feeling proud of herself, Pinkie trotted to the next stand and then the next one. She insured that every salespony and customer had a smile on their face. She stopped by every stand and expressed her enjoyment of the respective products. Even fierce competitors didn’t mind the fact that she loved every product just the same.
The last stand in the market was controlled by Big Stick. His sharp, stern black mane, stone cold frown, and squinted eyes alerted her toward him.
“Good morning, Big Stick! Say, you look a little upset. Is there an-”
“Look kid, what do you want?”
His eyes narrowed until his irises were nearly invisible, causing Pinkie to shudder.
“Well, I can tell that you’re upset. And I want to make you smile so t-”
“Please, just tell me what you want and get out of my face!”
Becoming desperate, she jerked her head back to notice ponies at other stands. After confirming her assertion, she turned back.
“But nopony else is in line. You can talk t-”
“If you don’t want anything, then get out!”
Big Stick’s eyes were now bulging and staring directly at her, his frown had deepened, and his brows were furrowed to the point that they looked like a single entity.
“Okay, then, I’ll have a one pound dumbbell.”
Pinkie shakily placed a bit on the counter as Big Stick handed her the dumbbell.
“Thank you,” she said shakily.
Turning away from the stallion, she was face to face with Roseluck, whom was standing behind her while she was ordering.
“What was the hold up?! Couldn’t you see he didn’t want to be talked to?!” the florist exclaimed.
The confidence that Pinkie had built up from visiting the other stands had been smashed by a giant hammer, leaving it in ruins.
“B-But, I just wanted to make him happy…”
“Well maybe he just wants to be left alone! Don’t you think that’ll make him happy? Or at least, happier than you screeching in his ear?”
Pinkie was shocked to have this falling on her all at once. She scrambled to find a response but Roseluck had already stormed off.
“Wait! Come back!”
Pinkie sprinted toward her friend; her strides were much larger than Roseluck’s. Within seconds, she had crashed into the florist, tackling her to the ground. It was only afterward that Pinkie had noticed her faux pas.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
At this point, the party planner was hyperventilating. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. There was no way this could have been happening.
“Are you crazy?!” Roseluck screamed, “Get off me!”
Pinkie fell backwards into the stones of the street, allowing the florist to rise to her hooves. Roseluck thrusted herself to see the pony on the ground. A burning intensity seared in her eyes.
“Don’t touch me again, you animal!”
And then she marched off again. Everypony was frozen with gazes directed at Pinkie, their looks conveying a feeling she was all too familiar with.
“No, please everyone! Don’t be sad!” she pleaded as she jumped to her hooves, “I can make you laugh really hard!”
Entirely without a plan, she moved her legs as if to dance. She did what she could but her balance felt shaky, every motion was deprived of grace. To add it, she threw in some forced, desperate giggles.
“I-Isn’t this fun, guys? Just a funny pony t-that makes you w-want to laugh…”
The stares never ceased. The smiles, the laughter, the optimism never arose. Sounds from the other ponies were never conceived. And what certainly never stopped was the pity.
“N-now what are you doing? Come on e-everypony, smile, smile, s-smile. Fill my heart u-up with sun-sunshine sunshine…”
Her own smile lost its shape despite her best efforts to hold it up. Tufts of her mane unfurled and dropped down her head. And from what she could tell, tears were breaking free from her clouded eyes.
“I guess you can cry in your dreams…”
Unable to look at their condescending faces any further, she squeezed her eyes shut. She winced from the burning sensation but she didn’t care anymore.
“It’s not like they did so for me anyways.”
Pinkie reopened her sore eyes to find herself in her own bed. Her face felt drenched and her mane felt deflated. She saw through her window a sliver of light on the horizon. A moment later, she slugged herself onto her bedroom floor. Her weary legs somehow moved her toward her bureau. She looked up and saw what laid before her.
A mare whose mane was mostly straight, save for several bunches of curls. Her entire face was in fact soaked; this was evident by the individual pink strands that stuck to its surface. Her forehead was probably so due to sweat. Judging by her red, puffy eyes, her cheeks must have had streaks of tears. Aside from that, there was a weak, timid frown on the bottom.
“I’m a pretty big mess.”
This was enough to evoke a small chuckle.
“I guess I feel a little better…”
She took a brief moment to see the small smile and the subtle glow that appeared on her face. There was a tiny relief from the giggle.
“a little…”
Pinkie turned to the other side of her room, where the door to the bathroom stood. She slowly walked her way over to it and gently turned its knob. Upon entering, she grabbed a towel before going into the shower. She took several minutes under the warm water washing her mane and body— particularly her face. The feeling of the streams of water hitting her coat was relaxing, as if her problems were evaporating like steam.
After she believed she was clean, she turned off the faucet. She dried herself off within the cubicle, allowing her to bask in the retained warmth. Her mane quickly poofed up after scrubbing it with the towel. She then stepped out of the shower, causing her to shiver from the sudden rush of cold.
Using the towel as a blanket, she made her way over to the steam-covered mirror. She brought one of her forelegs to the glass surface and wiped away the watery layer on top. She saw her now poofy mane and clean face. The red of her eyes were gone, allowing the blue to be highlighted.
“Yep. That’s the pony everyone wants me to be.”
She perked a quick smile before leaving the room. She bounced her way down the stairs and to the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner, ready for the day’s work.
“Good morning, Pinkie,” Mr. Cake said.
“Good morning to you too,” the pink pony replied.
Pinkie sat down at a chair and waited for the first order. She created small talk with Mr. Cake but what she really wanted at the moment was to start baking. Eventually, though, Mrs. Cake came through the door with a grin.
“We’re gonna need a dozen peanut butter and chocolate cookies and a vanilla cake,” she cheered.
“That’s wonderful!” Pinkie said as she went over to a cabinet and pulled out a bowl, “I’ll make the cookies!”
“Okay, then,” Mr. Cake said, “Mrs. Cake and I will make the cake.
“Great!”
The three of them grabbed the appropriate supplies and got to work. Pinkie got a hold of eggs, flour, chocolate chips, and butter. Having made this recipe many times already, she automatically mixed in the eggs and flour to produce the cookie dough. It took a bit of effort to not lick any off the spoon. She then sprinkled the chocolate chips into the mixture and stirred some more. Afterward, she rolled up twelve tiny balls and placed them on the tray. Finally, she took the tray, and placed it in the oven.
Happy with her work, she bounced over to Mrs. Cake, who was getting ready to place the cake in another oven.
“Are there any more orders?” Pinkie asked her.
“Yes, next we need cupcakes.”
“Right on it!”
It took her no more than ten minutes to make the preparations for the order and place them in the oven as well. With the remaining ten minutes before the cookies were ready, she prepared another order of cupcakes. Throughout the whole process, Pinkie was pretty much her normal, happy self; the marks of last night had dissipated without a trace.
Two oven alarms rang out simultaneously. Pinkie and Mrs. Cake went to their respective slots and pulled out their respective products. The cookies looked absolutely delicious: warm, fluffy surfaces, gooey chocolate chips, and a sweet aroma that tempted the little baker to “taste test”.
“Oh my gosh! I forgot the peanut butter!”
Her body felt about thirty pounds heavier, the smile was destroyed and her eyes lost their sparkle.
“Now the customer will hate me forever…all because I’m so stupid!”
Seeing a counter right there, she placed the tray on it. Her head collapsed in her struggle to keep it upright; her mane sagged down with it.
“Pinkie.”
The voice alerted her like the oven alarms and her head shot back up. She jerked it to find Mrs. Cake standing beside her, concern in her eyes.
“Are you alright?” the older mare asked. She saw Mr. Cake standing not too far behind her with a similar look.
“Oh no! This is very bad!”
“Yeah,” she replied, forcing up a smile, “I, uh, just forgot to put in the peanut butter to these cookies…”
“Well that’s an easy fix,” Mr. Cake jumped in. He briefly glanced at his wife and nodded at her. He then went over and took the tray, “I’ll have these fixed in no time.”
The stallion took the tray to the other side of the kitchen, away from the two mares. Mrs. Cake approached Pinkie slowly.
“Pinkie,” she said, “please let me help you. Something is clearly wrong.”
The young baker stared at her employer with a blank expression. Those older eyes pleaded with her, another look that she was familiar with. Pinkie turned away from them and coughed out a chuckle.
"What are you talking about..." she said, "there's nothing wrong with me. I'm...happy as a...um..." Her eyes jolted back and forth as her mind scrambled to find a response, "happiest happy pony..."
Mrs. Cake's eyes drooped even more as she stood before Pinkie.
"Pinkie," she said, "please don't lie to me."
The muscles in Pinkie's body froze and her eyes were unable to break from Mrs. Cake. She tried to find something to say, anything that will allow her to continue working. But as she calculated each possibility in her head, she only saw her giving the same reply: "Don't lie to me."
“There’s no use in hiding it now…”
She tried one last time to argue against it. But after a minute of silence, she sighed.
“I’m worried that the customer will hate me for messing up their order…” she said. Her lips curled inward as she stared once more at Mrs. Cake.
Upon hearing her reply, Mrs. Cake placed a hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder and pointed toward her husband.
“You don’t have to worry about that," Mrs. Cake said, "Mr. Cake is putting the peanut butter on as we speak. There’s nothing to be worried about.” She then gave her a smile.
But Pinkie looked back into those reassuring eyes and shuddered. She felt uncomfortable to be in such warmness.
“W-Well I know…”
She paused for a second. She tried to piece it together and scolded herself when she couldn’t. But Mrs. Cake stood there, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s just that..." she said, "you and Mr. Cake are so nice and good to me…”
Pinkie stopped to take in a deep breath.
“but sometimes I feel like...you look at me..." she said as her body began to shake.
"...like a fool...like a simpleton..." she continued as her eyes began to lose their focus.
"a burden in your lives…”
Her head started to feel heavier as she contemplated how Mrs. Cake would react. It took a big push for her to continue.
“I try to tell myself it’s not true...but I just can’t help it sometimes…” she said. Her heavy eyelids fell, causing her to see darkness. She kept her eyes shut for several moments before forcing them back open.
“I try to set... expectations for myself...to be the happy, helpful pony that always makes others laugh...that makes every party exactly perfect...nothing is wrong in the slightest…”
She then stopped and took in a lot of air. She looked at Mrs. Cake, whose face had not changed since she started talking.
“And when I fail...I point out every little thing...and I feel really bad because I was too dumb to see it. And that’s what just happened. I didn’t bake in the peanut butter...I didn’t give them exactly what they wanted…”
Mrs. Cake made sure to listen to every word of her friend’s confessions. Her eyes never broke contact from her and her body remained still.
“And now Mr. Cake has to fix my mistake for me when, you know, he could be working on something else...And something tells me that you only keep me around because you pity me..."
Her voice dropped in volume. Her throat felt tight and constrained and her mouth was too loose to control. She paused to take in a series of shallow breaths while looking at the floor. Her forehead was on fire and her body was nearly impossible to lift. She slowly found the ability to hoist everything back up, look Mrs. Cake in the eye, and continue.
I know it’s wrong for me to see the worst in you but sometimes I think I can be that great of a burden…”
Pinkie’s eyes fell shut and she trembled ever so slightly. Her breathing was audible and deep, yet constrained and forced.
“I’m sorry…” she said, “for messing up…”
Almost immediately, Pinkie felt herself enveloped in a deep embrace. Her eyes flashed open to see Mrs. Cake’s forelegs wrapped around her.
“Pinkie,” she said with her voice inches from her friend’s ear, “Mr. Cake and I care about you very much. We do not keep you here because we pity you.”
Pinkie did what she could to wrap her own forelegs around Mrs. Cake. She then closed her heavy eyes once more.
“I know,” the pink pony whispered.
Mr. Cake had finished lathering the cookies with peanut butter and had returned to the two mares.
“You’re one of the sweetest, smartest ponies we have ever met,” he said, “We are very proud to have you as a part of our family.”
That last line made her chuckle, although not as loud or strong as usual. For Mr. Cake, that was a good sign.
“I’m not actually your daughter…” Pinkie said.
“Maybe not genetically but sometimes water can be thicker than blood.”
Pinkie thought about that. At the same time, she thought about how Mrs. Cake was hugging her and how Mr. Cake was taking time out of his day to talk to her.
“Everypony makes mistakes,” Mrs. Cake said, “but that doesn’t make them stupid or a failure.”
Those words resonated deep within Pinkie. Everything had calmed down and was replaced with relaxation. Pinkie gently hummed while wrapped around her second “mother”. She felt a small grin form on her face.
“You’re a very special pony, Pinkie," Mrs. Cake said, "You do make everypony feel good on the inside."
Mrs. Cake held her for a while longer, making sure her sunshine was bright and happy again. It was that sunshine, though, that broke the hug. She saw her bright blue eyes sparkling and her smile as wide as a mile.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cake,” she said with a gentle softness.
Pinkie Pie’s glow radiated to the older mare, causing her to grin as well.
“Anytime you need help, we’ll be here for you.”
As the trio returned to work, the young baker took a moment to look at her flank, which bore three balloons; a sight that she had been proud of since she was a little filly.
“I am special. I am a great, smart, kind, and special pony that’s gonna make you smile.”
