"Any decorations?"
"Decorations are here and accounted for."
"Did you get a cake?"
A man in a large room whips out his phone and checks out a recent message on the home screen:
"Sorry dude, cake joint is cleaned out. :P"
It read.
"Um, I think so..."
"Richard..." the voice in the phone says sternly.
"Don't worry about it, Ramona." Richard says nonchalantly. "Everything is just..."
The doomed man turns to look over the barren dance floor, rows of empty cake trays on the kitchen counter, badly wrapped presents on the gift table and a complete lack of any festive decorations and not a SHRED of creativity whatsoever.
"Fine," he utters. "Just...fine."
"Your clear hesitation after the word 'just' is giving me every right to worry," Ramona sighs. "I should've done it myself. Rachel's my daughter and you know how she gets when things go wrong."
"Hey, I got this covered, 'kay sis? You just keep doing what you're doing and leave the party making up to me."
"Alright then. Just got done watching a movie with Rachel and her friends. We're eating lunch right now."
"Oh, what did you all watch?"
"I forgot what it was called...'Sausage Party', was it?"
"Whoa, whoa! Did you even check the rating on that?!"
"I'm just messing with you, dork." Ramona cackles. "We just watched My Little Pony Movie for the millionth time. I bet the look on your face right now is priceless!"
"Still a trickster as always. Tell Rachel I said Happy Birthday for her."
"Okay, byeeeeee!"
"...buh-bye." Richard sighs, hanging up before sitting down at a nearby table.
There, the poor schmuck ponders over his life choices.
"Welp...I'm a dead man, guaranteed." he thinks. "You've really done it this time, Richie. You've screwed yourself over once again. You just HAD to buy the cheap stuff and you just HAD to eat all the cookie batter, didn't ya? Ain't that a-"
PLOP!
The sudden sound in the corner of the room grabs Richard's attention. Looking back, he sees a lone present laying sideways on the floor. What piqued his curiosity was that the present was wrapped to perfection in a glittery pink pattern laying beside a crumbled up pile of his cheap and tattered wrapping in front of the gift table.
"How the heck..." he utters in awe, approaching the strange gift. "Where did this come- whoa, hey!"
Richard ducks as another sparkly present plastered with rows of Rainbow Dash's cocky face flies over him and lands atop the pink present.
"Alright, who's back there?" he gulps nervously, yanking a NERF gun from a gift bag and aiming it at the table. "I-I got bullets and I'm not afraid to use 'em!"
As he creeps further towards the table, the faint sound of tape being pulled. Another present soars past his head, causing Richard to cling to his "lethal" weapon. Peeking over, his jaw drops...
Before him was a bouncy pink pony balloon happily humming to herself while analyzing an unwrapped box.
"She got an Easy Bake OVEN!" the balloon gasps, covering the bulky box in sleek purple wrapping paper at the speed of light. "So lucky!"
She tears off more of the crummy paper from another gift and blindly tosses it into Richard's bewildered face.
"Hey!" he grunts, angrily wiping the paper off.
"Oh, cupcakes!" the balloon squeaks, ducking under the table cloth.
"I always knew cookie dough would jack up the body, but sheesh!"
The balloon books it from under the table and heads for the kitchen. Pulling out a random assortment of smaller balloons, she quickly inflates them to form a dark pony in a hat and cape before chucking it at the human.
"Get him, Mare Do Well!" she pants, scurrying into the bottom kitchen cabinet.
Richard effortlessly tosses the discount Batman pony balloon animal aside as he stomps into the kitchen and lunges at the cabinet just as the pesky thing closes the door on him, bumping his forehead. Annoyed, he opens the door back and is greeted by an unforgiving blast of confetti to the face.
"Augh, why?!" he wails, taken aback by the colorful paper covering his eyes.
"Confetti always calms me down," the balloon states. "Plus, it's edible. Is it working out for you?"
"UGHHHHHH!!!"
"I'll......just mark that under 'Not satisfied'."
The balloon retreats further into the cabinet as Richard blindly reaches in, in an attempt to nab the nuisance while trying to remove the tiny slips of confetti from under his eyelids. She pops her head out of the cabinet on the other end of the counter.
"Can't we just talk about this?" she asks, ducking back inside as the enraged man narrowly claws at her.
"I don't know what weird, random sorcery this is, but I will not be tortured!" Richard hisses.
The balloon pops up from the top cabinet and drops a soup pot on Richard's head, rattling and clanging it with wooden spoons. Disoriented, Richard flings the pot with the troublesome pony across the room and into a mixing bowl. Grabbing what's on the counter, he carelessly flings anything and EVERYTHING on sight at the little pony.
From the messy wave of tools and ingredients, the pony delicately plucks down a few eggs, a pack of sugar, some flour, a spoon and a few other key items and mixes them all together, hopping and skipping through all the clutter. She hops and skips her way past the weak assault and casually pours the mix into a cake pan and pushes the dish in the awaiting oven.
"Wow, nice aim, Rich- AGH!"
A clumpy glop of cake batter abruptly splats against the pony, pinning her to the flour-covered floor.
Standing triumphantly over the trapped balloon's wriggling body, Richard aims the NERF gun directly between her eyes.
"What is that thingy?" Pinkie asks.
"This......is my BOOM stick!" Richard barks. "One little pull, and you're popped!"
"Why does it say 'NERF'?"
"Quiet, you!"
THUNK!
Richard shoots a plastic bullet a few centimeters beside the balloon's head.
"Who are you?" he asks, reloading the gun. "No, WHAT are you?"
"I'm a pony, obviously." the balloon states casually. "Pinkie Pie, pleasure to meet ya! Richie, was it?"
"H-How are you alive?"
"I don't know, magic, I guess?" Pinkie shrugs.
"That makes no sense, are there any other balloon pony friends or something?"
"Nopety nope, licorice rope. Just little ol' me!"
"Why just you though?"
"Plot convenience!"
"What?"
"Nothin', muffin!"
"Just give me one good reason why I shouldn't pop you right now."
A wide smile forms on the pony's messy face.
"Well, I will gladly do so!"
Pinkie slurps up the bits of cake batter off her hooves and slips out of Richard's grasp and the room goes pitch black.
A spotlight shines upon the fedora-wearing, hoof-tapping pony as music begins to build up.
"In SONG form!"
"Oh, please don't." Richard groans.
Don't pop (don't pop) don't pop the beat
Can't pop (can't pop) can't pop the beat
Won't pop (won't pop) won't pop the beat, go
Everypony, move your hooves and feel united
Wooooooooooah!
Everypony-"
"Alright, alright, ALRIGHT!" Richard interrupts, wiping off the confetti on his shirt in an irritated manner.
"Oopsie! Is that an overused song?" Pinkie squeaks. "How about this one?"
"WAA WAA WAAAA!
(WAA WAA!)
You ain't never had a pone like-"
"PINKIE! You've made your point very clear here, okay?"
"Soooooo, does that mean I can help you out?"
"I-I still don't know, how do I know you're that good, huh?"
DING! the oven chimed.
"Are you a fan of red velvet?" Pinkie asks with a cocky smirk.
On the spot, Richard ponders over the many possible outcomes of succeeding without the bubbly balloon's assistance.
Unfortunately, he was stumped.
"Mmph, alright then," he sighs in defeat. "You can help out. But no more singing."
"SQUEEEEE!!!" Pinkie squees, hopping around the room with glee. "I won't let ya down, Richie!"
"Yeah, sure......whatevs."
"Hey, Richie?"
"Uh huh?"
"I do have a teeny weeny li'l question."
"Shoot."
"What is a sau-sage party?"
"I'll tell you when I'm dead."
The quest for a redeemable party was underway.
Pinkie warms up the oven while Richard sloppily mixes all the ingredients in a mixing bowl. Once it's time for baking, the party pony hops onto Richard's side of the kitchen.
"I ain't much for baking here, Pinks." the man huffs, roughly folding in the clumpy mixture. "What do I do next?"
"Well, ya gotta start with the basics, my dear hooman." Pinkie states. "Once you get all the ingredients well acquainted, you must stir it all and do......the ditty."
"The ditty?"
The balloon pours a little glob of the mixture onto a cutting board dusted with flour and grabs a toy rolling pin from a plastic cooking set.
"Pinkie cake, Pinkie cake
Baker's mane
Twist and turn like a candy cane
Pat it, and roll it, and smack it with a 'P'
Pop it in the oven and top it with cream."
"...you're kidding, right?"
"Nope," Pinkie shakes her head. "You sing it with every single treaty treat."
"Every time?"
"Eeyup."
"I don't know if we'd have enough time to-"
The little pony shushes the man's protests with her poofy pony tail as she places the sugar-coated treat into the plastic kiddie oven. After an awkward ten minutes of silence, Pinkie happily pulls the soft spongy confection out and flips it onto a paper plate before presenting it to the intrigued Richard.
"So, basically just a flat cupcake?" he says, eyeing around the treat suspiciously.
"Yeppers!" the balloon nods. "But with a Pinkie-fied touch to it. BOOM!"
She tosses a miniature storm of glittering pink sprinkles upon the little cake, giving it an appetizing coat on the frosting.
"I don't know about this," he ponders. "This won't taste like rubber, will it?"
"It's not balloon food, silly." Pinkie giggles. "Just try it."
Richard plucks the mini cake and nibbles it.
His eyelids skyrocketed.
"Woah," he blinks erratically, savoring the cake. "This is delicious, Pinkie! Mmm..."
"Hee, I know." Pinkie squeaks, pulling out a tiny clipboard. "I'll add you to the 'Mmm' club right now and......there."
"These are sure to be a knockout, guaranteed!"
"Well, now that ya learned the secret to peak perfection Pinkie cakes, you think you can handle flattening them into shape and bake them for me?"
"Sure. Just a simple roll 'n bake, easy as pie."
"Don't forget the ditty!"
"Haha ha ha...ha..."
"..."
"You were serious about the-"
"Yes."
"Do I really have to-"
"Yes."
"Are you insane-"
"Possibly."
"Ugh, fine!"
"Pinkie cake, Pinkie cake
Baker's mane
Twist and turn like a candy cane...
"There you go, friend-a-doodle!" the pony coos, patting Richard's forearm. "Have to go clean up a bit up front, be back in a sec. Put your hips into it!"
"I'll be here."
Richard mumbles the ditty until the bubbly balloon floats out of sight.
Bzzz. Bzzzz.
Getting everyone ready, be there in 30.
The text read.
"Bump this." Richard huffs.
He slaps glob after glob of his batter onto a baking sheet, humming a hurried abridged version of the ditty, rolling the pin across them recklessly and setting it all aside, repeating the same process on three more sheets and placing them in the oven.
Topping the flat treats off with splatters of frosting and sprinkles, Richard places the underwhelming baked "goods" in small cake boxes laid out in the kitchen.
Eventually, as he sets the past tray inside, Pinkie returns.
"Oh, Richieeeee, how's the baking going- WHA?!"
She rushes over and stares hard into the oven as she notices the deflated slabs of dough bunched up together on the baking sheets within.
"Something's not right."
"Like what?"
"They're not floofing!"
"Huh?"
"The Pinkie cakes! They're supposed to floof up at this point in the oven!"
"Huh, weird."
"D-Did you ditch the ditty?"
"Yeah, I did. So?"
"You can't ditch the ditty, Richie!"
"I done ditched the ditty, Pinkie. We're running out of time here."
"You can't ditch the ditty! You ditch the dang ditty, you're DOOMED!"
"How so?"
POOF!
A single box of Pinkie cakes lightly hops an inch atop the kitchen counter, startling Richard.
"Pinkie," he utters. "What was that?"
The little pony ominously turns her head to him, staring deep into the human's quivering eyes.
"The Pinkie cakes..." her voice booms.
POP! went a box.
POP POP! went two more.
"..."
"..."
"Pink-"
POP! POP! POP! POP! POP! POP!
All the cake boxes explode across the kitchen, spreading delicious debris all over the walls, erupting toward the dance hall up front where the mess spreads further.
The popping dies down, as the two take in the incident.
"Jeez," Richard winces. "I'm so sorry, Pinkie."
"This is just cray cray!"
"I said I'm sorry, Pinkie..."
"You just had to rush through things. You just had to-"
"I TRIED MY BEST, PENNY!!!"
The human's furious tone frightens the rubber pony, who cowers behind a pile of creamy debris on the table. With a frustrated sigh, Richard plops himself down on a nearby chair and slams his face into his hands.
"Pinkie, I meant Pinkie," he stutters, turning away from the balloon. "I'm sorry, I......I didn't mean to yell."
Pinkie comes out of hiding and inches toward her dejected companion.
"Who's Penny?" she asks.
"Penny's......Penny's my daughter. I haven't really spent that much time with her lately."
"Why's that?"
"My wife, uh...my ex-wife and I separated a few months ago. She got custody of her and I rarely see her now. She says I'm not responsible enough."
"Well that's just mean! Why would she-"
"No, she's in the right here, I'm a joke! I can barely take care of a plant, let alone a child. I asked Ramona to let me help set this party up so I could prove that I CAN be responsible, that I CAN be mature. But it's pointless to avoid the fact that I'm a failure. I failed my sister, I failed my niece, I failed my wife, I..."
Richard pulls out his phone and his eyes tear up as he views a wholesome picture of him carrying a cheerful little girl on his back.
"I failed you..."
There, he suddenly feels something resting on him and looks to the side to see the comforting balloon tenderly caressing his shoulder with a warm smile, leaning in to cuddle his arm.
Richard wipes his eyes and nuzzles his cheek against the smol sweetheart, triggering a light squeak to slip out of her.
"I'm sorry," he sniffles, sadly chuckling to himself. "I just don't know what to do with myself anymore."
Pinkie crawls up to meet his gaze, gently grabbing his face by the cheeks.
"Just keep trying, Richie." she nods with a proud face.
"Thank you, Pinkie. I......I will."
"That makes me super duper ice cream scooper happy! Say 'I will try'!"
"I wimm twy!" Richard mumbles as Pinkie squeezes and stretches his cheeks playfully. "Alright, alright, you got your smile. Don't push your luck. I can see why Rachel enjoys you and your show. You somehow manage to put others in a feel-good mood in the end."
"Hee, I try. If you wish to succeed, double up your failure rate."
"Where in the holy Pinterest did that come from?"
"Nothing!" Pinkie chimes, stuffing Richard's phone inside her mane. "I gotta go get more ingredients from the kitchen."
"Gotcha."
The pony grabs a batter-covered mixing bowl and waddles toward the kitchen.
As she reaches the door-
"Pinkie cake, Pinkie cake
Baker's mane..." she hears Richard hum to himself.
Pinkie smiles and hops off.
"Almost there, Richie!"
"I can't do this!"
"Almost there, just one more loop!"
Sitting near the gift table, Richard frantically struggles to tie a bow atop a present while under Pinkie's guidance.
"Loop! Loop! Loop! Loop! Loop!" the party pony chants.
"Yes! I looped it!" Richard cheers, holding the wrapped gift up triumphantly.
"I'm so proud of you, friend-a-doodle! Just six more presents to go!"
"Ahhhhhhh!"
"Hee, don't worry. I'll take care of the rest, you just tend to the finishing touches. Streamers?"
"Hangin' and streamin'."
"Confetti?"
"Locked and loaded in your dreadful- I mean delightful party cannons."
"Pinkie cakes?"
"Sang to and sprinkled to perfection."
"Excellent!"
The two briefly pretend to play electric guitars.
From behind the entrance doors, they hear the faint sound of car brakes screeching to a halt.
"Crap, they're here!" Richard panics. "Everything's not set up, we barely got the bare minimum ready!"
"Take care of them, I'll add the finishing touches!"
"You're a tiny balloon, what can you do?"
Pinkie proudly pulls out a shiny blue cannon. "Never underestimate a pony."
"Fair enough. Totally something you hear every day..."
Richard fixes himself up as he approaches the entrance. Outside, he spots Ramona stepping out of her SUV along with a herd of rowdy children flooding out every other door.
"You good there?" Richard asks.
"This the first wave of kids, more are coming, what do you think?" she chuckles exhausted.
"Heh, that's what you get for being sociable, sis. You decided to befriend perpetually tired parents."
"Hush, stinkbrain."
"Hey, uncle Richie!" little Rachel squeaks, hugging Richard excitedly.
"Heyyy, tiny goof, happy birthday! How old are you, twelve? Thirteen?"
"Nine, silly! Is everything set up good?"
"Oh yeah. Everything's definitely under control."
"You sure?"
BOOM!!! a muffled noise shakes the building's doors.
"Positive." Richard smiles.
"What was that?" Rachel asks.
"What was what?"
Ramona brushes past her brother toward the entrance, the loud herd of children following after as a few more vehicles park nearby.
"Wait, slow your roll there, sis-"
The children stare through the open door in awe and fumble to get inside.
Balloon ponies and other animals float about, confetti lightly blows around in the breeze leaking in from outside, Pinkie's cakes were expertly lined up on the cake and MLP style piñatas hang from the ceiling, giving the while room a burst of imagination.
And the children loved it.
An ecstatic Rachel gratefully hugs her uncle's arm before frolicking and exploring the room along with the other kids.
"Oh my goodness," Ramona gasps, admiring the effort. "This is incredible, bro!"
"Heh, thank you," Richard scoffs, rubbing his neck. "It took alot of work, but I didn't..."
Seeing the happy look on his skipping niece's face cuts him off.
"It was worth the effort." he finishes.
Suddenly, the lights cut off as the other party guests enter the place.
A light shines upon a DJ booth seemingly operated by a balloon animal in the form of Pinkie Pie.
"Come on and SMILE!" her shrill voice exclaims through mega speakers as the dance floor lights up the room and the bass drops down.
"Man, where'd you get a DJ booth, bro?" Ramona asks.
"I have my ways..."
"Where did she get a DJ booth?!" he thinks.
The party goes along swimmingly for Richard with Pinkie sneakily guiding him through it all.
Children fueling their sugar tanks with Pinkie's delicacies, the vicious wrapping paper massacre, party games remain disgusting easy, adults barely tolerating the modern slop music kids replay on a daily basis, the usual things on the shindig checklist.
Soon, it was time for cake.
Red velvet cake.
"Happy Birthday, dear Rachel
Happy Birthday to you!"
Rachel blows out her candles and everyone claps.
"Thank you, everybody!" she giggles. "This party was awesome, uncle Richie made this the bestest party ever!"
The happy girl once again wraps her uncle in a tight embrace before pulling out a small colorful box and booping a chipper MLP sticker on his chest.
"You get a Pinkie Pie badge!"
"Kid has good taste." Pinkie giggles to herself from within a plethora of balloons.
"Means alot to me, little one," Richard grins, ruffling her head. "You deserve only the best. But don't go mad with power with it."
"Hee, no promises!"
"You did good, dude," Ramona nods, poking her brother's arm. "You did good."
The siblings share a warm smirk before Richard goes off to clean up after the hyped up gremlins.
Eventually, one of Ramona's friends approaches him.
"Mmm, what is this and why do my taste buds want to marry it?" she muffles, savoring a treat.
"Um, it's a Pinkie cake." Richard utters. "It takes a special time consuming process."
"This is a wonderful party you cooked up here as well. Do you do baby showers?"
"Oh, hmm..."
"Come oooon," Ramona chimes. "This could be your calling."
"I-I don't know, I...
Pinkie subtly bumps into Richard's leg in a lifeless pose. He gives her a brief glance with a smile before looking back up, determined.
"I-I'd have to check my schedule, but I can.....I can try."
