The Cakes' Special Treats

Pinkie waited at the base of the stairs for the Cakes to bring her new craft supplies. She walked to everything she had prepared. Her first major craft was going to be simple. She had her least favorite cutie marks laid out. The back door opened, and Pinkie bounced over to it.

“Here you go, Pinkie,” Mr. Cake said as he laid down a small pink blanket.

“Thank you! This will hopefully look great! I’m gonna have to show you two when I’m done. Now shoo, it’s a surprise.”

Mr. Cake left. Pinkie dragged the blankie to the marks. She then straightened it out and placed the cutie marks over it. Pinkie only laid out the marks she was willing to mess up on. She could add more after she killed more ponies. Pinkie sewed the marks on in a random pattern. It was hard to get the needle through the leather, but she was determined.

“Blehhhhhhhh, why is this so hard!” she said to herself, “The griffon books make it seem so easy! Maybe it’s because of their hands, lucky brats. Alright, here’s a goal, steal something’s hands. I don’t know personally something with hands, but I’m going to be everypony’s friend. One of them has gotta be friends with something with hands.”

Pinkie continued to sew, “Let’s see, there are griffons, dragons, uh minotaurs, that’s all I can think of.”

After a few hours, Pinkie filled the patchwork blanket with as many cutie marks as she felt comfortable losing. She then took a picture and rang the bell.

It took ages, almost ten minutes of ringing before Mr. Cake came down. He didn’t stay for long though, “Sorry Pinkie, Cupcake is out getting baking supplies, and I’m the only one in the shop. I’ll see your craft later.”

“She’s getting baking supplies!? Does that mean I’ll get another friend?” Pinkie asked, grinning.

“Sorry, Pinkie, but no. She’s getting normal ingredients like flour.”

“Lame,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“I’ve gotta go, Pinkie. I’ll visit you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

The Cakes came down later. Mrs. Cake was holding a sheet of paper. She handed it to Pinkie, “This is the hours for our shop. We’re usually busy during this time, so we might not come when you ring. Try to only call if there’s an emergency during store hours,” Cupcake said.

“Alrighty, wanna see my blankie now? It’s special and made with lots of blood, sweat, and tears. Not mine, of course.”

Pinkie bounced over to her creation, “Look, it has all the messed up and ugly cutie marks! I do something else with the pretty marks, but that’ll come later.”

Mrs. Cake picked it up and felt the marks, “They feel nice and soft. I think you did a great job.”

“Really? Thank you! It was harder than I thought it would be. The leather was hard to stab, but I think I need a different needle. I like how it came out. I still have a lot more cutie marks, but that’s for later. Later I’m gonna make a dr- no, that’s secret. I bet some people know what I’m talking about!”

“People... do you mean ponies? What ponies?” Mr. Cake asked. They both looked confused.

Pinkie’s mane deflated completely, as she thought, “I have no clue. It feels like a wall in my brain just broke, so I know more stuff now. I feel invincible, but also like a tiny speck in the universe.”

Mrs. Cake placed her hoof on Pinkie’s back, “Hey, are you okay?”

“I think? Imagine you feel normal, and your brain is normal, but since you’ve always been kinda weird, your normal brain is still weird. So being in here made your brain glitch, and now you understand more, and your brain’s wall broke. See, I can’t explain it. It just happened, but it felt like it was inevitable. I think it was going to be gradual, and I would just be slightly weird, but now I’m just filled with too much information so I’m confused and scared.”

’You get what I mean, right?’

Mr. Cake cleared his throat, “Well, Pinkie, I think your blanket looks great. You did a good job on the stitching.”

“Thanks, you guys didn’t see me do it, but some people did... they read it. No one’s ever seen me, they’ve seen a version of me, but they’ve never seen me.”

“Do you need us to stay or leave, Pinkie? You aren’t-“ Mrs. Cake tried to say.

“Stay, I’m kinda going through an existential crisis right now, and I could use the support. But you two don’t get it? Imagine we’re in a bubble, and our world exists only in the bubble. But someone made the bubble, and there are more bubbles, and I can see out the bubble, but no one else can and-“

“Pinkie. Pinkie!” Mrs. Cake yelled, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She laughed and pushed away Cupcake’s hoof, “No, I’m not okay! I just realized this world is fake, and that I’m doubly trapped, and my mane’s fluffiness just died. It hasn’t been flat since before the big rainbow explosion. Do... do I still have my cutie mark?” She yelled as she turned to her flank, “I still have my cutie mark. That’s good. I’m still a party pony. Even though I’ve never had an actual party... I’m a fraud! All I do is make people sad and hurt. I’m awful!” She sniffled and wiped away her tears. When did she start crying? “It doesn’t even matter since this world is fake. Nothing matters. No one is real, and I’m not real, so I’m not doing anything wrong. I haven’t killed anypony, just characters in a story.”

She grabbed the blankie and wrapped it around herself. “I think I’ve lost it. That’s what you two want, right? For me to lose my mind, well congrats, you did it.”

Mr. Cake spoke, “No Pinkie, we don’t want that, we just-“

“Leave me alone. I have some things to process.”

“You just said you wanted us here?”

“Well, now I’ve changed my mind. I want to panic in peace.”

They left, finally letting her question reality without ponies that couldn’t understand bothering her.

’It doesn’t even matter if they aren’t real. If I didn’t want to, then I could not hurt them... I think. I’m awful, The Cakes say I’m making ponies happy because of this, but I have no proof if that it's true and I’ve never seen ponies without them being scared for their lives, and I enjoy hurting them. Wow, I’m an awful party pony. Silly Pinkie, I’ve never even had a party aside from the ones with my family,’ she curled into a ball and continued to cry, ’How do I know they even like them? They’re family. They could be pretending.’

Pinkie continued to think late into the night until, finally, she fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning with a plan. ’I’m the main character, so I can’t die. Because that would ruin the story. I need to test that,’ she looked around, then took a deep breath. Pinkie closed her eyes and ran face-first into the farthest wall. She was expecting an explosion of pain, but it smooshed against the wall like putty, then came away with a pop. Pinkie grabbed her muzzle and pulled. Once she let go, it snapped back to her face. As if nothing had happened.

“Woo-hoo, I’m immortal!” She said as she pranced around the basement, “Nothing can keep me down! Not even death.”