A knock on my window.
I turn over, shaking my head a bit.
A louder knock.
I turn over onto my front and put my pillow over my head.
Oh, dear sweet Celestia.
I turn around as fast as I can, coming face-to-face with a pink mare. Before I can scream, I feel a hoof being jammed into my mouth.
“Sssssh! Bon-Bon's gonna wake up!”
At this juncture, I'm not sure if I wouldn't want Bon-Bon to save me. I look up into her determination-filled blue eyes, and realise that she's pushing up against me. I'm not sure if I've ever been more profoundly uncomfortable.
“Don't scream, alright?” she says quietly, as she retracts her hoof from my mouth. “I said I'd be here in twenty minutes, and here I am!” I'm not sure how she manages to be quiet even while shouting happily. I try to put it out of my mind.
“It's been—” I check the clock, “five hours,” I hiss, looking over to my side. Bon-Bon is sleeping just as well as I am, on the other side of the room in her own sugar-smelling bed. “Where have you been?”
“Well, I was worrying, y'know, 'how can I come up with a solution to this problem in just twenty minutes'? So I thought and thought and it took me five minutes, and then I thought 'hey, it's been five minutes', so I realized I could go and do a montage! So I did those five hours in, like, ten min—”
I stuff my own hoof into her mouth for a bit and let her talk herself out into it; it takes her about a second before she realises that sound no longer issues from her mouth. I look sternly into her eyes for a second before pulling it out again.
I sniff at my hoof.
“Okay, look. That doesn't matter. How in Equestria did you get in here?”
“I did a scene transition, silly filly!”
I put my forehoof up to my face, closing my eyes as I rub under my horn. “Okay, okay. Forget I said anything.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie!” She seems to scrunch her eyes up for a bit. They open, and as they do I realise that her new expression is one of undiluted suspicion. “Heyy. Why'd I tell you how I got my idea if you didn't ask why? Are you a psyker, miss? That's heres—”
“Look. What exactly's your plan?”
She seems to change track entirely, her grimace turning into wide grin. “Well, I had a great idea.”
Then she leans in and gives me the worst idea I've ever heard in my life.
“That's going to kill her, Pinkie,” I say, looking over at the slumbering mare of my dreams. “She'll have a complete breakdown.”
“It'll be great! She'll think about it for sure.” I open my muzzle in protest, but she just continues. “Besides,” she says, as I keep quiet to at least try and stop Bon-Bon from hearing me trying to talk over her, “you're from Canterlot, right? They have those all the time there. Like, once a year.”
“How did you know I came from Canterlot?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You think your 'realize's with an 's' in them. Anypony could see that.”
I realise, at that point, that arguing with Pinkie Pie is an action fundamentally detrimental to my mental health.
“Look, Pinkie Pie, I'm trying to sleep. Just... whatever you do, don't hurt her. Alright?”
I feel the weight shifting off of me.
Immediately, I sit up.
I turn back under my pillow. I shouldn't be awake for another five hours.
This isn't going to be a very short day.
“May Celestia protect me,” I say, as I go back to sleep, Bon-Bon's gentle, harmonious breathing reassuring me that she hasn't been awoken.
I never thought I'd be praising Pinkie Pie, of all ponies, for her stealthiness.