When I first started going to school not long after arriving through the portal, I found a pretty unique way to confuse my teachers.

You see, the languages spoken here and in Equestria sound completely identical, but they couldn’t be further apart in writing. Meaning that in the beginning of my school career, my teachers would constantly think I was messing with them, because I spoke with an advanced vocabulary while being functionally illiterate. A combination that, to their credit, didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for me to catch back up. Learning how to read and write was a lot like playing through a video game the second time with all the upgrades, and since the language barrier wasn’t very tall, my literacy and my language skills didn’t take long to match back up.

Ironically, the easy part was learning to read and write again. The hard part was figuring out all the linguistic quirks and shorthands that people used. Certain words mean certain things depending on the sentence. Sentences can have entirely new meanings depending on their use of words in relation to others, and where those words are used in the sentence. In Equestria, it works the same way. But if there’s one thing I’d learned about humans, it was that they loved to complicate things for seemingly no reason, and the way they spoke was a prime example.

Take, for instance, the reason I came over to Pinkie Pie’s this afternoon. Yesterday, at the sleepover, she mentioned she was going to make some special cupcakes for another group of friends. When I asked her what was so special about them, she essentially explained that they were ‘cupcakes you could eat,’ just in different wording.

I wanted to know how that was any different than any other type of cupcakes she made. Did that mean she made ones you couldn’t eat? What would you even do with those?

And maybe I could have asked her what that meant, but it felt like one of those things I would eventually pick up on after hearing it in some other context. Plus, all the girls were around, and I didn’t want to ask a stupid question and look dumb by extension.

That’s why when Pinkie asked me if I wanted to help her make them, I said yes. There had to be something I was missing. Seeing it first hand seemed like a good way to find an answer, and being involved in the process would be even better.

Except I wasn’t really involved in the process at all. I was just kind of sitting there, watching her bounce around the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of something and dumping it into another bowl, then putting that bowl under some loud machine that mixed the contents inside into some beige and brown goop.

“So,” I said, “do you need me to do anything?”

“Nope!” Pinkie turned the mixer back on. “I’ve pretty much got this.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why did you ask if I wanted to help if you’re just going to do everything, then?”

She began to explain, her voice somehow louder than the mixer. “Well, cupcakes are one of my specialties, and because I’m making these special for someone, I have to be reeeeally precise! But the reason I asked for your help is mostly just because I wanted an excuse to spend some time with you!”

I didn’t mind coming over to hang out, but I wasn’t happy about being brought here under false pretenses. And as much as I appreciated that sentiment, I couldn’t help but feel like she was just saying that.

“What if I wanted to learn?”

Pinkie smiled. “We’re gonna make a second batch after this one! I would have you doing something if this wasn’t such a super special batch, but I’ve gotta be really careful. They have that super secret special ingredient—you know the one—so they have to be perfect.”

I didn't know the one. I almost thought about asking what the ingredient was, but I thought maybe she'd say what it is later. It couldn't be that secret if I was supposed to know.

“Who are these even for, anyway?”

“One of Fluttershy’s friends!”

“So, one of us?”

“Nope!”

That was the day I learned Fluttershy had more friends than me and the girls. I felt kind of bad for assuming that.

As Pinkie continued to jump from one side of the kitchen to the other, I was trying to keep track of what she was doing. If I was going to help with this second batch, I wanted to have some idea of what some of the steps were, but she moved way too erratically to keep up with. It was like she’d remember she had to do something else every twenty seconds, sometimes going between two or more things multiple times in the same minute.

Having never baked anything in my life, I was actually kind of impressed. Without a frame of reference, I just thought you put things in a bowl, dumped them into a tray, lit a fire underneath it, and then you had a cake or whatever.

“I never realized baking was this complicated,” I said.

Pinkie giggled. “It’s not this complicated usually. I just didn’t have time to prepare before you came over, so I’m doing everything on the fly.”

“Why didn’t you have time?”

She dumped some kind of pungent smelling oil into the goop bowl. “I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Nothing!”

“So why would you wing it if these have to be so exact? That seems kind of silly.”

“Usually, it’s not a good idea, but I’ve done this so much that I can just do that. Plus, everything’s better when it’s a little silly.

“I do still have to be exact though. What matters the most is that everything has just the right amount of ingredients, and just the right amount of time. And even if it looks like I’m going fast, I never rush.”

If this was Pinkie Pie taking her time, I couldn’t imagine how fast she would be if she were rushing.

Finally, she started to slow down. Once she poured the dough or whatever into the cupcake tray and placed it in the oven, she sat down next to me on the counter. She kicked her legs, her head tilting back and forth like a metronome.

“So how’s life?” she asked excitedly.

“Umm, good, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I do.” I chuckled. “It’s better than it was before, at least.”

“Yay!” she cheered. “You look like you’ve been doing a lot better, too!”

That got a half smile out of me. “Thanks, Pinkie. I feel like I have you and the girls to thank for that. So, uh, thanks. Again.”

“Maybe we helped,” she replied, “but we sure didn’t for a while. You did a lot of the work.”

“Psh, yeah. I knew brooding for months would eventually pay off.”

Pinkie looked my way. She was still tilting her head back and forth, still smiling, but she gave me a sympathetic look.

“That’s not all you did,” she said. “Though, you did do that a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like, a lot a lot a lot. Like-”

“Okay, yeah, I get it.”

“Sorry!” She giggled. “But, still, you gotta give yourself credit, too.”

I wasn’t sure how much I agreed with that, but I didn’t really want to get into that anyway.

The conversation seemed to end there. It felt like there was more we both wanted to say, but I couldn’t think of anything, and she didn’t talk about it anymore.

But she did start talking.

“Something big is gonna happen soon.”

That was as vague as it was concerning.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I dunno,” she replied. “Something really big, like super big.”

“And what is it?”

“I dunno," she repeated.

I narrowed my eyes. "Is there really something?"

"I dunno."

Even if I couldn't tell if she was serious, I started to get paranoid. What could she be talking about? Was it good or bad? How soon was ‘soon?’ Why didn’t she say more?

Pinkie was so enigmatic. Every time I interacted with her, I was left with more questions than answers, and most of the questions I was left with sounded so stupid that I couldn’t possibly ask them.

But it was just me and her. And if anyone would understand a dumb question, maybe it was her.

“Do you know what ‘something’ relates to?” I asked.

“Us,” she answered. “Not just you and me, but the girls too. Maybe the whole school. Maybe everyone.”

If Pinkie didn’t sound so calm, I think I might have started panicking. Then again, that kind of added to the ominousness of it all.

“Is it a good thing?”

“No,” she said plainly. “But, yes.”

I tilted my head. “Which is it?”

“Yes.”

“It is a good thing?”

“No.”

“So it’ll be bad?”

“Yes, but no.”

Suddenly, I felt really stupid for taking this seriously. She was probably just being cryptic just to screw with me, and it was getting annoying.

“Okay, Pinkie, I really appreciate you inviting me over, but how come you can’t just tell me what you’re thinking instead of playing games like this all the time?”

Despite the irritation in my tone, Pinkie didn’t seem bothered.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, Sunny–”

“Don’t call me that,” I sharply interrupted.

“–Sunset,” she corrected. “That’s just how I am!”

I squinted at her. “Does that mean you constantly have to mess with me?”

“Nope! I haven’t been messing with you at all this whole time.”

“Then what are you doing? Why don’t you just talk to me normally?”

Pinkie grabbed her chin, her head tilting back and forth on her hand.

“That’s another reason I’m glad we’re hanging out today!”

“What?”

“So you can get used to me.”

I was about ready to give up on this conversation until Pinkie Pie continued.

“I’ve been through this kind of thing before. Most people don’t take me very seriously because they think I don’t take them very seriously. But I do, just in my own way! After some time, you’ll see what I mean, and once you do, I know we’re gonna be the bestest of friends!”

Pinkie threw her arm around my shoulder, her big bush of hair repeatedly hitting me in the face as her head continued to tilt back and forth. “And once we do, you’ll find out we have a lot more in common than you think, I think.”

“… I have never thought about what you think we have in common.”

“Not what I meant.” She chuckled. “But that is a good example of what I mean!”

I still felt completely in the dark, but strangely enough, I also felt like I was starting to get it. After all, I was sitting here getting aggravated at her, but she refused to stop being her usual silly self. It was like she already understood that I wouldn’t understand her.

Maybe this was something she was used to? She did say this was something she’s been through a lot, though she wasn’t exactly clear on what that meant.

But maybe trying so hard to understand her was part of my problem. I was always looking for an explanation, and maybe Pinkie couldn’t give one because she hadn’t found one herself yet. And considering just how many people Pinkie Pie knew, I couldn’t be the only person she’s had this kind of experience with.

That left me feeling pretty guilty. I was almost ready to fly off the handle at her, and she had probably been preparing for that the whole time.

“Sorry if I sounded kind of shitty there,” I said, looking down at the floor.

“I think your voice sounds fine!” she replied.

I groaned. “That’s not what I-”

When I looked back up at her, she winked. Yeah, I was starting to get it.

Suddenly, Pinkie’s head started violently shaking, and a shrill bell that sounded way too close to my ear went off at the same time.

“They’re done!” she shouted in a squiggly sounding voice.

In a blink, she was standing in front of the oven with mitts on her hands. She gently pulled the tray out from inside, placing it delicately on the stovetop. She said something, but the sound of the bell completely drowned her out.

“What?” I yelled.

“I SAID–” she paused and reached up inside of her hair. After a few seconds of digging, she pulled out a timer; one that she promptly threw at the wall and shattered into a hundred pieces. “I said now we wait a little bit, and then it’s time to frost them!”

Even though they weren’t frosted, the cupcakes already looked delicious. Each one had a perfect swirl of vanilla and chocolate cake.

“How long?” I asked. “Are we allowed to have any? I really want to try one.”

“I knew you would! That’s why I used my special baker’s dozen plus cupcake pan, so we’ll have two extras! We just have to give them a few minutes, then we’ll frost and decorate.”

Pinkie dug around in her fridge and a few different cabinets. While she set up what I assumed were tubes of frosting, I decided to ask her something I was too afraid to ask anyone yesterday.

“So how did the band meeting go yesterday?”

Pinkie paused for a moment. “Eh.”

My eyes went wide. “Eh?” I repeated.

“Eh,” she affirmed.

Maybe I should have let it go. After all, there’s no use trying to understand her when she doesn’t understand herself half the time. But this was about more than just her. If Pinkie thought the meeting went “eh,” then something was wrong.

“What do you mean?”

She didn’t look thrilled, but as she started frosting the cupcakes, she began to explain.

“The parts where we actually played music were fun! But the ‘meeting’ part wasn’t any fun at all. It was just Rainbow Dash talking at us, and when she did, it didn’t seem like anyone else wanted to be there.

“Fluttershy already seemed bent out of shape before I got there. Rarity and AJ have been weirdly distant with each other. And nobody tells me what’s going on, so I just tune out the parts where we’re not playing. Besides, Rainbow Dash is starting to make this whole thing sound like a job.”

“Isn’t that kind of the goal with being in a band, though?” I asked. “You eventually want to turn it into a job, right?”

“That’s probably how it is for a lotta people, but not me,” she answered. “I play music for fun. If I were gonna have a job doing anything, I’d want it to be one where I do stuff like this!”

In a showcase of confectionery confidence, Pinkie aimed two frosting sleeves in the air, squeezed them both tightly in her hands. Six dollops of frosting launched into the air, all of them barely missing the ceiling, and all landing on their targets with a perfect swirl.

I nodded, my eyes still wide from disbelief. “Okay, yeah, I see why.”

Pinkie took the remaining two unfrosted cupcakes out of the tray, placing one in front of me.

“I’ll decorate yours, and you can decorate mine!”

“I don’t know if I should,” I said. “Unless you want the messiest, shittiest looking cupcake you’ve ever seen.”

Pinkie giggled. “No matter how it looks, I know I’m gonna love it.”

Something about the way she said that caught me completely off guard. It made me feel warm for a moment.

Then I felt a pang of guilt. I used to be so mean to Pinkie, and I was being kind of a jerk earlier. And here she was, still trying her hardest to be my friend, saying one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to me up to that point.

I tried my best to frost the cupcake in the same way Pinkie did, but where hers were twists of sweetness, mine looked like a coiled turd. But after dumping an absurd amount of sprinkles on top, that detail seemed less noticeable.

Mine was done in less than a minute, and it certainly looked like it. When I looked over at Pinkie’s she had already finished too. The difference is that hers looked way too intricate to have been done in the same time frame as mine. The frosting was swirled perfectly into a pattern of red and gold with pink sprinkles generously dumped all over it, all with a little peanut butter cup on top.

“Wow! Pinkie, that looks amazing!” I exclaimed. It felt kind of embarrassing how excited for this cupcake I was.

“Thanks!” She smiled bashfully. “I may have practiced this design a few times before now, so if you’re wondering how I worked it out so quickly, that’s how.”

Another wave of warmth splashed over me. It was just a cupcake, but the amount of thought that went into it was almost hard for me to process. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done anything like that for me.

That was a depressing thought.

Before I could mull that over, Pinkie gasped.

“Oh my goodness! Sunset, yours is perfect!”

I raised an eyebrow. “It is?”

“Of course it is!” She picked it up, holding it close to her face. “The frosting dripping off the sides, the fact that you accidentally made the frosting look like poop, the way-too-many sprinkles you used to hide the fact that you accidentally made the frosting look like poop; It’s so cute! I love it!”

I wasn’t sure why I thought I could get that one past her, but I didn’t expect her to call it out like that. That just felt like she was calling my work shit. Which, to be honest, was a fair assessment. Still, I was happy that she liked it. Granted, I wasn’t entirely sure she was serious at first.

It wasn’t until she started nuzzling the frosting and smearing it all over her face that I could believe she was completely sincere. It was kind of endearing, at least up to the point when she slipped the entire cake portion of the cupcake into her mouth like a snake would a rat, swallowing it down, paper cup and all. Then it was just kind of weird, but still endearing in its own way.

Finally taking a bite of mine, I was a bit confused by the taste. The frosting was fine, but the cake had an earthy taste to it. It was overpowered by the chocolate and vanilla, but it was impossible to ignore. Still, it didn’t stop me from devouring it in a minute. I was a lot hungrier than I thought.

Pinkie loaded the rest of the cupcakes onto a dish, placing a glass top over them.

“So, before we get too far away from it,” I began, examining Pinkie’s handiwork along with her, “should I keep what you told me about the band meeting to myself, then?”

Pinkie indecisively tilted her head back and forth.

“Doesn’t matter to me!”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “If I can say it to you, I can say it to them.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“It’ll all gonna come out eventually.”

I almost asked her what she meant, but something about that question made me think back to earlier.

“Does that have anything to do with that ‘something big’ you were talking about earlier?”

“Mhm!”

“Can you tell me what that is?”

“Nope!” she popped the p extra hard on that one. “Now, we should really get to baking that second batch before we get baked!”

Pinkie started getting things together for the second batch of cupcakes, but her phrase confused me.

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ What’s this about us getting baked?”

“That cupcake you ate was an edible, remember?”

I stared at her intensely. “If it was inedible, then why did you let me eat it?”

“Not inedible. An edible. Like, with an A.”

“Okay, but what does it being edible have to do with ‘getting baked’ or whatever?”

Pinkie’s smile fell, and her eyes went just as wide as mine. That day, I learned a lesson I already knew:

Certain words mean certain things depending on the sentence.

Author's Note

This chapter was so fun. Everyone complains about having to write Pinkie because it's hard (and it is) but I think she's a lot of fun to write actually. Hopefully that reflects in the writing. The next chapter should be posted pretty soon (like, for real, it's actually done, I'm just hanging onto it for a little bit), and it features a fan favorite character to this canon. Stay tuned!