You lay in your bed, the warm, fresh sheets enveloping you in an unfamiliar scent. Yesterday, Pinkie took a day off from work and spent the entire afternoon helping you clean everything in your house. Well, it was more like she did all the work while you showered. Then she made you pancakes, which was strange, because you didn't have the ingredients for pancakes. Or a stove. At least they tasted nice.
You're supposed to be meeting her at Sugarcube Corner today, probably to discuss the details of the party. The one you still don't want, but Pinkie's still throwing. You aren't afraid of meeting new people—or ponies—but you don't really feel like putting in the effort of entertaining strangers you don't care about.
You glance at the clock on your wall; the only non-furniture thing in your house. Eleven-fifteen. Pinkie goes on break at eleven-thirty. You sigh and sink deeper into your sheets. Maybe she won't notice. You could just play sick and stay in bed for the rest of the day. Again.
Your stomach doesn't like that idea. There's food at Sugarcube Corner. Besides, Pinkie would just break in and drag you over there if you were late. Or she'd cry.
Wanting to avoid that disaster as much as possible, you halfheartedly fling the covers off and slide your feet to the floor. You grab the single shirt and pair of jeans from their pile near the bed and sluggishly get dressed. You could really use some coffee right now, but you ran out a few days ago, so it seems like today's the perfect opportunity to restock. If only ponies made bigger bags. Back on Earth, you could buy a single bag that would last months. Unfortunately, ponies don't drink coffee much, so they only sell enough to make a few cups at a time. They barely last you a week, even if you ration.
By the time you drag yourself out of your room, it's already eleven-forty. You almost trip on the edge of the couch as you walk by. You guess it moved a bit while Pinkie's Maid Service was cleaning.
knock
click
"Nonny~!"
Huh. Looks like you were right. Pinkie's here to drag you away.
"Yeah, yeah. I know I'm late," you interrupt before she can say anything else. "I'm leaving right now."
Pinkie giggles behind a hoof. "You're not late, silly! I set your clock to be fifteen minutes fast."
This should probably bother you, but you can't work up the energy to care at the moment.
"Whatever, let's just go. I need some caffeine."
"Kay!" Pinkie trots around you and leaps onto your back, loosely wrapping her front legs around your neck. "Onward!"
She's light enough to not be a burden, but it's still irritating.
"Pinkie, get off," you sigh.
"Aw, why?" You're glad you can't see her face, because you can hear the puppy-dog eyes in her voice. "You're strong enough, right?"
"I don't want to carry you. Besides, you can walk fine on your own."
"..."
"Pinkie."
"I'll make you an omelet for breakfast tomorrow."
"...Deal." The back of your neck is treated to a thorough nuzzling for that.
The ponies in the street give you more than a few odd looks as you pass. For one, they aren't used to seeing you at all, but it probably has more to do with the living pink backpack you’re now sporting. Thankfully, the walk is short. You shuffle through the open door and immediately angle towards a corner booth.
"Wee!" Pinkie squeals when you pick her up by her front hooves and deposit her on the table. She quickly bounces off and onto your lap.
"Pinkie..."
She turns to look up at you with her bottom lip poking out.
Well, she is soft.
"Welcome back, Pinkie. And hello, Mister Anonymous. What can I get for you both?" The speaker is a yellow and orange stallion. He's apparently the owner of the place, but you never bothered learning his name. He seems unperturbed by Pinkie's position on your lap. He works with her, so he's probably used to it.
"I'll have a super-duper triple scoop of chocolate ice cream! With sprinkles!" The stallion writes it down without hesitation.
"I'll just have a coffee and a muffin." You don't want to spend too much money. Shortly after your arrival, you were given a supply of bits for a house and food, but it won't last much longer. You'll need to get a job soon.
"What kind of muffin would you like?"
"Uh... blueberry, I guess."
"One coffee, a blueberry muffin, and a Pinkie Special coming right up!" He walks off with a smile, leaving you wondering about Pinkie's eating habits if she has a dessert named after her.
"Are you really eating ice cream for lunch?" You nudge the mare to get her attention.
"Nope! I ate before I left."
"And you're still hungry? What did you eat?"
"A delicious apple pie!"
"...Like, an entire pie?"
"Yeppers!" She almost sounds proud of herself.
You prod her tummy with a finger, causing her to erupt into giggles. She doesn't look any bigger than a normal pony, so how the hell is she packing away food like that?
"Here you are!” the yellow stallion chirps from behind you, making you jump. “Enjoy.”
He sets the food down and trots off before you can calm your heart enough to thank him.
Pinkie wastes no time digging in. She somehow manages to fling spoonfuls of ice cream into her open mouth without spilling a drop. You calmly sip your coffee, waiting for the liquid gold to kick in. The muffin could wait, caffeine is what you need right now. You remind yourself to pick up a bag before you leave. Maybe a couple, if you can afford it.
Setting your steaming cup down, you finally reach for the muffin. Before biting into it, you notice that Pinkie has stopped making noise. You glance down and almost drop your muffin. She's already managed to finish her ice cream and is now leaning back against you, rubbing her stomach with a goofy smile.
"Please stop doing that."
"Huh?" Pinkie opens her eyes and looks up at you in confusion. "Stop what?"
"That. Stop being so damn cute." Her smile widens. "You're making me lose my appetite."
Immediately, her smile drops. She hops off your lap looking worried, almost panicky.
"Oh! I'm so sorry! I'll... I'll sit over here, okay? Just please eat."
"...What?"
"You really need to start eating more. I didn't know I was making that difficult for you." Her mane is noticeably less poofy. "Sorry."
She was... Oh. You remember she mentioned how little you eat during her tear-filled speech last night. She wants to make sure you eat more healthily. And you just made her think she was partly responsible for your poor diet.
"Pinks, I was kidding. Look." You shove the entire muffin into your mouth and slowly choke it down with the rest of your coffee. "See? I ate it," you gasp once you finally swallow the last bit.
"You were joking?" Pinkie asks hopefully. "I didn't make you not hungry anymore?"
You nod your head, still out of breath. Her poof is back, but she still isn't smiling.
"That wasn't a very funny joke," she mumbles. "I'm really worried about you."
You pick up the fretful mare and place her back on your lap.
"Will you stop worrying if I promise to eat more?" So long as you can find a job soon.
"Do you Pinkie Promise?" she asks with dead seriousness.
"Yeah, sure." You hold your pinky finger out to her before a realization hits you. Ponies don't have pinkies. So what does-
"You have to do the motions!" Pinkie interrupts your thoughts.
You're just plain confused now. "What motions?"
"Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!" The chant is accompanied by some motions you are apparently supposed to do. She makes a crisscross over her heart, then flaps like a bird before pulling a cupcake out of nowhere and smashing it into her eyeball. Her tongue flicks out at an impossible length and wipes her face clean, leaving no trace of the pastry. You manage to stay calm and not try to perform an impromptu exorcism. Pinkie might be using black magic, but she's your friend, so you need to accept her. No matter how freaky that was.
"...I don't need to do it with an actual cupcake, right?"
"Only if you want to!"
You repeat the childish rhyme, going through the motions as you say it. "I Pinkie Promise to eat more." Maybe.
The smile is back in full force. "Thank you, Nonny!" she says while nuzzling under your chin. "And you better not be lying. Nopony breaks a Pinkie Promise."
For some reason, the thought of doing so sends chills down your spine.