I awoke early in the morning. There was no Twilight knocking on my door, or an alarm clock beeping incessantly. Instead, I was alone, everything silent for a change. I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet, simply exulting in the feeling of waking after a good night's rest at my own pace. However, I quickly became aware of a weight on my body.
Daring to open my eyes, I was met by two large, blue eyes, a wide smile, and a pink poofy mane. “Hi!” Pinkie shouted and glomped me before I even had a chance to properly wake up.
I released a frightened yelp as I shot up and scooted back against the headboard, causing the pink intruder to tumble off me and land on the floor in a pile of giggles and curly pink hair. She sat up, brushing her mane out of her eyes and giving me the brightest smile she could.
“Good morning! I thought you would wake up early, but when the sun rose, you weren’t waiting at the door to Sugarcube Corner, so I thought that you totally overslept, so I came here and found you asleep and you looked like you were having a good dream, so I didn’t want to wake you, so I decided to wait until you woke up, and then you could tell me about your dream! OH! I also had a dream last night! I accidentally baked a castle at Sugarcube Corner when I wanted to bake a strawberry sponge cake, and that’s a bit silly because you never use blueberry when you make strawberry sponge cake, and I think that’s why I baked a castle, but when I woke up, I really, really, reeeaaallyyy wanted a blueberry sponge cake, so I baked one.”
Faster than I could say ‘what’, Pinkie was holding a small cake that smelled like blueberry in front of my face. “Want some?”
Looking from the cake to Pinkie, I rubbed my eyes in equal amounts of disbelief and in an effort to clear the sleep from them. My brain had received quite the shock from waking up with a pony on top of me. I settled on one burning question amidst the confusion. “How did you get in here?”
“I climbed through the window,” Pinkie responded with a grin. “I first planned to just walk in through the doors, but I’m not sure doors are in style right now, or if they’ve ever been in style, because Rainbow Dash always flies in through the window. Then I decided I wanted to try using windows just like her.”
I looked to the window. It was open, displaying a twenty metre drop to the ground. Polished crystal didn’t provide any grips either.
“How?”
“Like this!” Forgetting about her cake, Pinkie bounced over to the window, lifting two pairs of what I could only describe as suction cups horseshoes. In a few seconds, she had put them on and began climbing the wall like a pony version of Spiderman, a sucking sound emanating with each step. She reached the ceiling whilst walking upside down, giggling and laughing out of sheer exhilaration. Or insanity. I couldn’t tell.
“I have suction cup shoes hidden all over Ponyville,” Pinkie boasted as she climbed down on the other side of the room. “You want a pair?”
Shaking my head, I swung my legs out of the bed, planting them firmly on the floor with a loud clop. “No, and when I get my clothes on and I’ve had time to freshen myself up, you are I are gonna have a long talk about personal boundaries.”
***
“So humans don’t like being woken up when somepony lies on top of them?” Pinkie asked, looking thoroughly confused.
“No, and being looked at when we sleep is considered creepy.” Actually, I liked waking up with Lisa on top of me, but Pinkie didn’t need to know that.
“But you looked cold since you don’t have any fur. I don’t get it,” Pinkie replied, frowning in thought. “My sister, Maud, once stayed awake watching me sleep because there was an interesting rock she hadn’t seen before stuck in my hoof. She didn’t want to wake me, so she decided to just watch the stone all night. You didn’t have a stone in your mane, or cake either.”
Pinkie. She made absolutely no sense at all. Either she was insane, grew up with a strange family, or she mistook LSD for sugar once upon a time and still hadn’t returned to reality. Her mouth ran a mile a minute, always talking, blabbering, yapping about this and that while being thoroughly confused by everything a normal human would find reasonable. Did she even think like a normal person? Or pony? Remembering Celestia’s advice from weeks ago, I concluded that Pinkie fitted into an entirely new category by herself.
Somehow, that made much more sense in a surreal and absurd kind of way.
I shook the thought away. She wasn’t quite normal, but she meant well, as far as I could tell. My personal fiasco from her party was still on my mind, and I had already planned to talk to her about it later today.
This early in the morning, the streets were filling up with ponies. It appeared as if I had become something of a common sight, seeing as the denizens of Ponyville only glanced at me for the most part. I was okay with it since it meant that the ponies had begun accepting me in their town. Fascinating really, how quickly they had grown accustomed to my presence. My wild predictions about torches and pitchforks were long forgotten.
We reached the same street that Sugarcube Corner was on, the building standing out among all the other houses. Pronking ahead, Pinkie opened the door for me, and I walked in. The interior had slightly changed from the day of the party; the few tables and chairs having been moved closer to the wall, leaving a large open space for the counter and the baked goods on display behind the glass. No one was here yet though.
“Come on, you’re invited for breakfast,” Pinkie said happily while heading for a door behind the counter. I now understood why she was in a hurry to leave the castle, and why I wasn’t even allowed to have anything to eat: she had planned this.
Following her, we entered a large and well-equipped kitchen one would expect to see at a bakery, many of the appliances bearing a strong resemblance to their Earth counterparts. However, this kitchen wasn’t our destination as we walked through another door and up a set of stairs, arriving at what looked like a cozy living room. The sound of two ponies talking came from the next room, followed by the laughter of two children.
I followed Pinkie into the next room; it was a smaller kitchen than the one below, and around a table sat Mrs Cake, the older mare I had met at the party, spoon-feeding two tiny adorable foals, who, judging by their size, must have been the equivalent of babies. Standing by the stove and preparing food was Mr Cake.
“Mrs and Mr Cake, I’m back, and I brought Magnus,” Pinkie announced as she trotted inside the kitchen, making adorable baby noises at the two toddlers in their high chairs. The Cakes swiftly looked my way, the children as well.
“Good morning, Magnus,” Mrs Cake greeted with a smile. “Pinkie mentioned yesterday that you were going to spend the day with her, and she wanted to invite you over for breakfast. Please, have a seat. There’s more than enough for everyone.”
“Thank you.” I was a bit surprised at Mrs Cake’s friendliness. I thought that she would at least harbour something of a grudge for making Pinkie cry, but that clearly wasn’t the case. Pinkie had already taken a seat at the table, so I sat next to her. The chair was a tight fit, but I managed to squeeze in with some effort.
“Another batch of waffles is ready. Would you like some, Magnus?” Mr Cake asked, balancing a plate on his hoof.
“I do, thank you.” He placed the plate in front of me before sitting down next to his wife to enjoy his breakfast. There’s wasn’t any doubt that Mr Cake was an excellent cook, judging by the scent of the waffles. After drenching them in maple syrup, I began digging in with gusto. Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, just perfect.
“Delicious,” I nearly moaned while chewing my first meal of the day.
“Family recipe,” Mr Cake replied proudly and rightfully so.
While we ate, the Cakes and Pinkie conversed. Pinkie asked for half the day off, saying she had some party she wanted to prepare for as well as a few other errands. The Cakes happily obliged to her request, obviously well aware of her penchant for parties. As for myself, I mostly listened. The Cakes themselves weren’t that interested in asking me questions, which I was thankful for. However, two other ponies at the table had taken some interest in me, namely the foals.
Both of them peered at me with childish interest, a blue-eyed, off-yellow unicorn foal with orange hair and a bow in it, and a tiny pegasus with a very light brown coat and much darker hair. The two were so cute, sitting there all wide-eyed and in diapers, I couldn’t help but smile at the sheer adorableness.
“They’re curious.” Mrs Cake was encountering a difficult time feeding them when I was the centre of their attention. “They haven’t seen you before.”
I looked to the two younglings, smiling at them while leaning closer. “Hey there, you two, what are your names?”
The little unicorn let out a gasp and turned to the sibling, then back to me and gurgled a few words that none of us could understand. He, or she, was much too young to even speak.
“This is Pumpkin Cake and her twin brother, Pound Cake,” Mrs Cake informed me, managing to gain the attention of the pegasus colt long enough to give him a teaspoon of baby food.
“Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake, hmm?” I found it a bit strange that the Cakes, both being earth ponies, could produce unicorn and pegasus foals. Obviously there were some genetics, or tomfoolery, at work here.
Pumpkin uttered a few enthusiastic words, none of which I or her parents could understand, while she reached her forelegs up at me, obviously wanting something. Obliging the filly, I leaned close enough so that she could touch me. Her specific target, however, was my nose. She clamped down with both of her tiny hooves, not enough that it hurt, and began squeezing it.
I decided to play along, and with a high-pitched, nasally voice, I declared, “Help, help! A filly has my nose and wants to eat it!”
While her parents and Pinkie smiled at the scene unfolding before them, it took the wide-eyed filly a second before she too burst into giggles alongside her brother, tugging even harder. Her brother also wanted to try, mimicking his sister by reaching his forelegs at me. Of course, I let him tug my nose as well, and he was equally enthusiastic over their newly discovered hobby, giggling the way only a toddler could when faced with the funniest thing in the world.
“Noo! My nose is falling off! Nose for the nose gods!”
I let each have a few turns, even as Pinkie wanted to join in. I pretended I didn’t hear her, thinking about earth pony strength and torn off noses. All the while, I felt as if I’d learned something new: pony toddlers were the cutest thing ever.
***
Pinkie and I left Sugarcube Corner, now heading into Ponyville proper. Pinkie Pie stopped for a few seconds to talk to everyone we encountered, and even introduced me to them. She really did know everybody in town, and everybody knew her. It was as if everybody smiled just by meeting her. Yeah, she really livened up this town.
“So, what’s on the plan today, teach?” I asked after Pinkie had introduced me to more of her friends.
“A party!” she exclaimed and jumped into the air, allowing confetti to fall like rain around her. I never found out how she did it. “And it’s a Cute-ceañera, one of my favourites! Tootsie Shoes got her cutie mark yesterday, a silver horseshoe, and I think it means she’s going to be a famous farrier, or maybe even a horse shoe designer.”
I wracked my brain, hoping to remember that word mentioned before somewhere, but I drew a blank. “What is a Cute-ceañera?” I asked, hoping to shed some light on the subject.
Pinkie gasped dramatically. “You don’t know what a Cute-ceañera is?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve never heard about it before.”
Pinkie’s usual pronking about came to a halt, and she showed off her own cutie mark. “A Cute-ceañera is a celebration for when a pony gets their cutie mark. It’s a really, really, really big deal for fillies and colts since it means that they found something they are super-duperific good at, and that’s always a good reason for a party.”
To me, it sounded like some sort of strange coming of age ceremony. Still, I had seen ponies with marks that were far too young to be considered adults, so it probably meant something else, perhaps closer to being a teenager.
“Okay, I think I understand what a Cute-ceañera is now. What do we do now?”
“Party supplies!” Pinkie called out with a grin and headed towards a store. “For your party, I exhausted a lot of my party supplies so I have to stock up. Confetti, streamers, banners, and crayons for banners.”
She led me towards the store and pronked inside, timing her jumps to avoid knocking her head into the frame. The shelves were crammed with party games and paraphernalia of every conceivable kind, many of which I doubted existed on Earth. They even had piñatas in the shape of ponies and animals. This didn’t just look like some party store, but rather one that aimed to cater for every conceivable event.
The cashier immediately recognized Pinkie, giving her a friendly wave. It came as no surprise to me that Pinkie was a regular here. She grabbed a shopping cart and sped off, running alongside shelves while eagerly picking out anything she liked. She even enlisted me in finding cupcake-scented confetti for her ‘party cannon’, whatever that was. I had a hard time finding the confetti, but eventually wound up in the back of the store. What I saw there came as a huge surprise to me.
Cannons, actual cannons. Although painted in a colourful scheme, they looked a lot like the type they used hundreds of years ago. And this was sold in a party store?
However, upon closer inspection, I discovered that the cannons weren’t real. Reading from a label hanging on one of the cannons, they were made of some type of durable wood and metal, and that gunpowder wasn’t used in them. Instead, they had some type of enchanted spring that re-cocked itself after each shot. They weren’t cheap either; a hundred bits per artillery piece.
Lucky for me, Pinkie’s ammunition of choice was stored next to the cannons. I grabbed a large container of confetti and went to find my pink companion again. By the time I caught up with her, she had filled her shopping cart to the brim with party supplies and wore a huge grin.
“Hello, Pinkie, and hello to you as well, Mister Magnus,” the cashier greeted us as we walked to the counter. Another pony who knew my name. I could briefly remember her from the party. She stood out, being quite tall for an earth pony. “Another party, Pinkie? Who’s it for?” the cashier asked while reading the prices to the sound of the old mechanical cash register.
“Tootsie Shoes. I’m in charge of her Cute-ceañera,” Pinkie answered. A jar of party whistles next to the cash register caught her eye, and she added a few to the considerable pile of supplies.
“Oh, I heard, a horseshoe even. Maybe she’ll be an apprentice to Caramel some day.”
When it was time to pay, Pinkie showed a new and very Pinkie side of herself. She reached into her enormous pink poofy mane and withdrew a bag of bits from it, handing it over to the cashier.
Meanwhile, I just stood there, staring at her mane in equal parts wonder and befuddlement. I knew I would probably get an insane answer, yet I asked anyway.
“Pinkie, what else do you store in your hair?”
“Bits, balls, a balloon, cake, a book, a pair of fake wings, and confetti. The usual.”
Well, if that was what Pinkie considered the usual, I shuddered to think of what she would label as bizarre.
***
Leaving the store, we made our way across town. Pinkie had gotten a cart from somewhere and was in an unusually good mood. She was like this a lot, all smiles and laughter, and generally being extremely friendly to every pony we encountered. Her good mood was infectious, as I felt a cheerier just by being around her. Element of Laughter indeed.
However, my mind wandered in a different direction, namely the party she had thrown for me. Now, I had been to good parties and bad ones, but for some reason, ponies took them more seriously than I would have imagined.
“Pinkie, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what do you want to know? Ooh, I feel like Cheerilee now! ‘Please repeat after me; parties are fun’!” she exclaimed happily, even sounding uncannily like a mare I remembered meeting at my party.
“Parties are fun,” I parroted. “Well, it’s actually about parties.”
“A topic I know everything about!”
I chuckled. “I’m sure you do. But my question is this: most ponies, if not all, seem to love parties. Is that a cultural thing, a pony thing, or perhaps it’s just you throwing great parties?”
Pinkie froze. I began to wonder if I had said something wrong, perhaps offended her in some way, until she unhitched herself from the cart, turned around, stood on her forelegs, placed her forelegs on my chest, and stared me right in the eye. However, she wasn’t mad or frowning at all.
“I’ll tell you why we ponies love parties.” She grinned and stood back on all fours.
I expected a thorough, or perhaps a very Pinkie way of explaining why she and ponies loved parties. What I didn’t anticipate was Pinkie to burst into song out of the blue. While bewildered to begin with, I simply explained it as Pinkie being herself. Strangely enough, it seemed as if she knew the song by heart. She probably had been rehearsing. Even weirder was that I swore I heard music coming from somewhere close by, a tune that matched Pinkie’s song perfectly. There were several houses in the immediate vicinity, and more than a few of them had the windows open. Probably a record player playing somewhere.
She started off by singing about how ponies went about their daily lives, doing their chores and working, but sometimes also wanted to have fun and meet new ponies. Her tune was upbeat and lively while also quite catchy.
A small crowd began gathering around Pinkie while she sang. They seemed to like her song, as they swayed in tune with the song, bobbing their heads and swishing their tails from side to side. What got me was that when the chorus came, they all sang with her in perfect sync. There wasn’t a sour note coming from anyone. It was like they all knew the song by heart.
I was astonished. Did Pinkie arrange all this? Had she found a bunch of random ponies and taught them this song because she knew I would ask this question, just so she could throw a random musical number? It was plausible, considering the pony in question…
She started the second verse. It was all about parties, how ponies could meet strangers and get to know them, play games with them, enjoy food, listen to music and dance, and become friends in the process. When the second chorus started, all the assembled ponies joined in again, with more gathering around us. Rainbow Dash had landed in the crowd and joined in, singing to her heart's content, and Rarity had also showed up from somewhere, adding her voice to the choir.
By this point, I was utterly flabbergasted. Then it became much worse.
I heard the song in my head.
As Pinkie belted out her song, somehow the lyrics popped up in my mind mere seconds before, like a stray thought. The lyrics matched up perfectly. Even when she was supposed to hold a tone for a few seconds—yes, I felt it in my mind too—she held it. Perfectly.
I wasn’t exactly afraid, but I was definitely unsettled. How could the lyrics appear in my head? Why did I hear instruments? Why did everybody sing together? A single thought came to my mind, and strangely enough, I found some solace in it. ‘Ah, yes, I’ve lost my mind. With the amount of stress I’ve been under recently, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Wonder if I can get a padded room with a view. Maybe I can get a colouring book and crayons? Nah, I’ll probably eat the crayons and poop the rainbow. Let’s hope I’m not violently insane—wouldn’t want to hurt anybody.’
By the end of the song, I had resigned myself to spending time strapped in a straitjacket designed by Rarity while sputtering absolute nonsense. I would probably be treated well, so that was okay with me. Then the last part of the lyrics popped into my head. Somehow, I knew I was supposed to sing it. It just felt like, ‘hey, this is your part, better warm up those rusty vocal cords’. However, insane or not, I refused. I had never sung a song in public, and the weather forecast for the deepest circle of hell would promise a blizzard before I set that particular precedent.
I crossed my arms, daring my mind to take control over my voice, just waiting for my part to come. A second before my part came, Pinkie looked to me expectantly, but I clamped my mouth shut. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a deep, bass voice belonging to a dark grey pegasus stallion with a silvery mohawk sounded next to me, taking over the part I was meant to do. I was certain he hadn’t been there a moment ago.
A few moments later, Pinkie finished the final piece with relish, ending with a long, drawn out note that slowly faded away. At the moment the song no longer played upon the ears of mortals, the assembled ponies all went back to what they were doing previously, as if nothing had happened, except that everyone seemed to be in a better mood. Rainbow and Rarity walked over to Pinkie, complimenting her on what a ‘lovely’ and ‘awesome’ song she had performed, even claiming that it perfectly described her parties to a tee.
After parting with her two friends, Pinkie returned to me and hitched herself back to the wagon. “Now you do understand why we love parties?” she asked while pulling the wagon effortlessly, wearing her signature smile.
I nodded with a crooked smile. ‘Not in the slightest, and when I get back to Twilight’s castle I’m gonna sit in a corner, curl up into a ball, suck my thumb, and mutter All Star until Shrek appears.’
***
Somehow, Pinkie had picked up that I was a bit shaken in the immediate aftermath of her performance, seeing as she inquired how I felt. I answered honestly that I wasn’t feeling well, upon which Pinkie immediately decided to remedy that with a cupcake straight from her mane. Despite where it came from, I ate it, and for some strange reason, I felt better almost immediately.
Whatever brand of hairspray Pinkie used probably contained a few substances that were illegal back home. Still, it did the trick.
We then went on to prepare for the Cute-ceañera. It was close by; a two storey house with a lovely garden outside, a father, and one eager filly with a brand new cutie mark she wanted to show Pinkie. She was so hyped up over her cutie mark that she didn’t seemed fazed by my presence.
I found it quite adorable, to be honest. She was so full of energy relaying her story that must have been retold numerous times that day alone. I figured that cutie marks held much more meaning to ponies than I had initially assumed. I faintly remembered Twilight mentioning that it was the portrayal of a pony's soul and destiny. Safe to say, I found her explanation a bit unbelievable.
As for the party decorating, it was done in about an hour. I helped hang up some banners in high places while Pinkie did the rest, meaning she stuffed decorations into her party cannon, then proceeded to shell the entire garden and living room. Considering who the gunner was, I didn’t even react when everything landed on their designated spots where they would look best.
After we were done decorating, it was almost noon and time for lunch. Pinkie, perceptive as she was, had already packed a picnic basket and promptly decided that we should eat outside since it was such a sunny day. She led me to a park area just outside of town, no more than five minutes away from the town centre. On top of a minor hill, we had a wonderful view of the entire town while a small stream ran nearby. We weren’t the only ones here; other ponies also used the park as a place to eat lunch or relax. A warm breeze blew gently from the south, making this place feel as quiet and calm as the forests back home.
While Pinkie unpacked our lunch—which unsurprisingly consisted of a lot of sugary treats—I spread out the picnic blanket in the shade of a tree, and soon we were both comfortable.
“Cupcake?” Pinkie held a tray up to me, filled with cupcakes with a rainbow array of frosting. I picked a red one, hoping it was strawberry. I was lucky. Even adjusting to baked goods in Equestria took some time. Sure, they were good, delicious in fact, but their sugar contents were higher than their Earth counterparts, and eating too much sugar always made me feel queasy. Still, I thanked her for the cupcake and ate it before taking another.
Next to me, Pinkie lifted an entire cake out of her basket. I was sure it shouldn’t fit in there, but that didn’t stop Pinkie from almost unhinging her jaw and stuffing the entire cake in her mouth.
“Good, isn’t it?” she mumbled, crumbs spewing from her mouth.
“Yeah, maybe a bit more sugar than I’m used to, but good anyway,” I replied, taking my time to savour an apple-flavoured cupcake.
I expected Pinkie to offer more in the way of conversation while we ate, seeing as she was without a shadow of a doubt the chattiest individual I’d ever met, but the speed she stuffed her mouth with made any attempt of conversation futile, unless I wanted to be covered by crumbs, cream, and frosting. That wouldn’t stop me anyway, because I had something I wanted to talk to Pinkie about, namely her party. I had a good idea on where to start, but the fact that I’d lied to Pinkie in the first place made me feel a bit ashamed.
She sat next to me, cheerful as can be, going through a full plate of cupcakes in seconds, all smiles while I had to deliver the truth to her. “Pinkie, we need to talk,” I said, finishing off my second pastry. I didn’t even have to make an effort to sound serious; the topic was enough.
“About what?” she asked innocently, making me cringe internally.
“It’s about the party you organized for me.” I took a deep breath. “Remember what I said about the kind of parties I like?”
Pinkie nodded vigorously. “You like small parties, and you prefer to know everypony there.” Her smile faltered ever so slightly. I think she knew what I was about to say. Still, I hardened myself, and hoped that she would understand.
“At the party…” I paused for just a second, looking out over Ponyville. I could feel Pinkie’s eyes on me. “There were just so many ponies, and I barely knew anyone. It felt like I had stumbled into a party at some stranger’s house, as if I was a stranger just standing in a corner and…”
I made the mistake of looking at Pinkie. She had put the empty plate down and was watching me, her smile gone, yet she didn’t frown. “...You didn’t like my party?” she asked slowly, her voice just above a whisper.
“No.” I shook my head slowly. “I’m sorry. I tried, but—”
“I know you didn’t like it.”
My eyebrows shot up reflexively. She knew? How? And she never said anything, yet kept the party going? Why?
“How did you know?”
Pinkie smiled faintly while she looked to Ponyville. The town was silent at the moment, as if it too was awaiting her answer.
“You didn’t smile. Only your mouth smiled, but not your eyes. I can tell a fake smile from a real one, and you’re not so different from ponies when you smile, you know. I remember seeing you smile in Canterlot, when you told us of your friends. At that moment, I knew what your real smile was like, and when you tried to smile at my party, I knew it was fake.”
“Then… why did you keep the party going?”
She looked up to me, that faint smile still visible. “Because I thought you would like it if you were there for long enough. Nopony has ever not liked one of my parties… well, except for Gilda. She was coming around, but she was in a really bad mood when she left, though.”
She sighed and her ears pressed against her skull, signalling the downturn in her mood. It was something I had learned from watching pony body language.
“But you’re different. You said it yourself; you only like small parties and with ponies you know. I know there must be something else too, because you ate so little and didn’t drink as much punch as other ponies. Maybe it was the food and the drinks, or maybe it was the music. I just don’t know.”
She looked away, a faint sniffle coming from her as she looked down at her own hooves. “I just wanted you to have fun and make friends since you’re all alone. You were so sad; it’s not right. Nopony should be sad, and nopony should ever be alone.”
‘Pinkie…’ I felt a painful pang in my chest. She might be weird, and more than a bit strange, but she had a heart of solid gold. She just wanted ponies to be happy, myself included. Come to think of it, it wasn’t that difficult to understand. She was the Element of Laughter, after all. I still remembered Spike’s exact words: she couldn’t stand seeing anyone being unhappy and would do whatever she could to cheer them up.
“I’m sorry.” I crossed my legs, resting my elbows on my knees. “I tried, but I just couldn’t have fun. It just wasn’t my type of party.”
“If you tried, then it’s okay, Maggy.” She didn’t seem angry, at least. “I know a lot about parties, but you just proved to me that I can still learn about otherworldly, human parties.” She turned to me. “Maybe you can tell me about human parties? What did you and your friends do?”
It was actually somewhat unsettling, seeing her sit still and carry on a normal conversation, given that she had been a bouncing ball of unceasing energy just a few minutes before. This was the most un-Pinkie I had ever seen her act, and it felt almost wrong. Still, if telling her about the kind of parties I used to attend would cheer her up, maybe even give her a few new party ideas, then it would be worth it.
There was one type of party that instantly came to mind from back home, the spontaneous summer parties that just tended to happen during weekends when we all had some free time on our hands. It usually started with a text message, telling us to meet at the messenger’s place, and then evolved from there.
“Sure,” I said, smiling at the pink fur ball. “I can tell you about human parties.” As it turned out, spontaneous parties were Pinkie’s specialty because one never needed a specific reason to party. She also wanted details, such as what we used to eat. Pizza was my answer, because who the hell didn’t like pizza? She even wanted to know what type of pizza as well.
“Thick crust of course, not that flatbread ~Italian~ thing. And cheese, tomato sauce, ham or meatballs, bell peppers, and jalapeno pepper,” was my answer. Honestly, pizza with a thin crust was for pagans and heretics.
“Pizza? We have pizza!” Pinkie’s smile had returned in full, and even her mane looked brighter for some reason. “But what do you usually drink at parties? I noticed you barely touched the punch.”
“Well, I would be tempted to say some type of alcoholic beverage, but not all people drink alcohol for various reasons. Generally speaking, there’s always someone who drinks soda, and I like soda as well. But me, I’m partial to beer, and if I feel like it, perhaps something stronger.” Honestly, I wasn’t about to tell Pinkie how I learned to drink until I got the right buzz. Too many times waking up in either in a field at midday, or in someone’s bed with no one beside me did that. Not to mention the hangovers.
Pinkie put the tip of her hoof to her mouth, even scrunching her muzzle ever so slightly while thinking. The serious look on her face was actually pretty funny, and in a way, adorable.
“Hmm, I never serve alcohol at my parties, seeing as there are always fillies and colts present. Can’t let them get into the cider, no siree! But I have thrown a few parties with only grown-up ponies, and they all love cider.”
She then went on to ask what we did at parties, and I did my best to explain the video games we played, such as Tekken, which took a few attempts to convey. Fortunately, she was able to grasp the concept and immediately dubbed it ‘Fights-That’s-Not-Really-A-Fight’ games. Board games were easier to explain, especially with the amount of Risk I’d played, and according to Pinkie, they were very popular in Equestria. Movies, for the most part, were harder to come by. Since they didn’t have TVs, most ponies went to a movie theatre if they wanted to watch a film. Movie projectors were expensive and not many could afford to own one privately.
“What about music? You like music, right?” Pinkie asked after we had gone through the entertainment bit.
“Sure, I like music. The stuff that the DJ played—”
“Vinyl Scratch.”
“Right, what Vinyl Scratch played was good, and a lot like modern Earth music. I wouldn’t mind hearing more.”
Pinkie grinned. “If you’d like, I can introduce you to her. She has a huuuge record collection, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind playing some for you. She’s my go-to pony for musical entertainment.”
“Sure, I’d like that.” My phone battery would run out one day, and I was curious about what other musical works existed in Equestria. I wondered if ponies listen to metal? Maybe they got some ponified—where did that word come from—bands from Earth? Iron Maiden? Iron Mare! Maretallica? Poniez?
Still, I had one last question remaining. I looked to Pinkie; her good mood had returned in full as though the wrinkle in our conversation had never existed. “So, Pinkie, are we okay?” It was obvious she didn’t hold a grudge, but I still felt I had to ask.
She nodded, scooted closer to me, and gave me a hug. Still felt a bit weird hugging a small horse. “We’re okay; we’re always okay.”
I wrapped my arm around her and gave her a soft squeeze. “Thanks, Pinkie.”
“You’re welcome, Maggy.”
I still had one final surprise for her, one that I hoped she would like. With all the parties she created around here, something sweet for the tongue and stomach would most likely be appreciated. She worked as a baker, after all.
“Want to learn to bake a cake from Earth?” I asked, knowing what her response would be.
She went from hugging me to jumping straight into the air like a rocket, with confetti flying from her mane. I was pretty sure I heard the blare of a party horn emanate from her. “Would I ever?!”
***
After returning to Sugarcube Corner, Pinkie went into Pinkie Overdrive, darting around and explaining to the Cakes what we doing, to which they were immediately on board. An extra-terrestrial cake must have sounded like the chance of a lifetime to them. Still, they had cakes to bake and one of them had to man the register, so they couldn’t help us. However, they gave Pinkie and me free range of the kitchen. Even though what we were about to make was a simple chocolate cake, I hoped it would prove pleasing to their palates.
I actually had some training when it came to cooking, strange as it might sound, but after moving to my own place and living for several years on microwaved meals, noodles, and any other quick-fix recipes, I grew sick and tired of such foods. Although they contained the necessary nutrients, I always found them to be tasteless and bland. With some training and time spent in the kitchen, I managed to prepare decent meals for myself, which was also how I learned to bake. Bread was easy enough, but chocolate cake had taken some time to perfect. In the end, all I needed was practise, as with everything else in life.
After finding me an apron, which didn’t do much more than cover my chest, Pinkie began bringing out the ingredients, as well as a large bowl while skipping about the kitchen.
“Hurry up, the sooner we get baking, the sooner we get to the tasting!” she exclaimed happily, trotting in place.
There was no stopping the pink ball of energy. “Just calm down, Pinkie, we’ll get to it now.” I had made this type of chocolate cake several times, and was amazed at how well I could remember the recipe. Normally, I always had an open cookbook in front of me so that I could avoid skipping a step.
I rubbed my hands together. “Okay, so, we’ll start by finding the ingredients. For the batter, we need flour, eggs, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, milk, and butter.”
Pinkie rushed into action to find the ingredients, working her way through the kitchen like a pro. In just a few seconds, she had the ingredients laid out in front of me.
“Great, we also need a mixer for the batter. Maybe you can start by heating up milk and butter while I mix the dry ingredients. Just three cups of milk and a hundred ~grams~ of butter.”
“Okie-dokie-lokie.” There was a moment of silence where Pinkie didn’t move, before the question came: “What’s a ~gram~?”
‘Darn, the measurements! Why couldn’t Equestria and Earth have the same measurements? We’re only separated by the entire universe or a simple dimension… whatever comes first.’
There was some difficulty in the conversion since a human cup was larger than a pony-sized cup, so I had to resort to estimates. I ended up writing down the entire recipe again, this time in accordance with Equestrian measurements.
While I mixed the dry ingredients, Pinkie returned with the milk and melted butter and poured it into the bowl. Luckily, Sugarcube Corner had some modern kitchen utensils which didn’t run on electricity. While the mixer took care of the batter, Pinkie and I covered a square baking pan with parchment paper. Wouldn’t want the cake to stick, right?
When the batter was done, we poured it into the pan and spread it evenly. Well, I did most of the work because Pinkie just stared at the mixing bowl until the moment I put it down, then dove headfirst into the bowl. I chuckled while watching the pink pony lick the entire bowl clean in a few seconds. Mrs Cake stood by the door, a hoof covering her mouth while giggling.
“Has she always been like this?” I asked Pinkie’s employer.
Mrs Cake smiled. “Oh yes, ever since I’ve known her. Somehow, I doubt she’ll change.”
***
The scent of the freshly baked cake filled the kitchen. The aroma of frosting covering the entire cake was especially heavy, with a dark appearance that was almost black. It was topped off with a generous sprinkling of coconut. The cake had done me proud, looking fluffy but not overly so.
The Cakes had each taken a slice of cake, chewing it like they were Gordon Ramsey, and I had to admit that I was worried they’d laugh at my efforts. So far, they had not, even though they were slowly working their way through their slices.
The twins sat on the counter, the nearly empty bowl of frosting between them as they had the time of their lives. What worried me was the amount of sugar in the frosting, and the fact that I had used coffee in it. On the other hand, it would be quite a show, seeing the two of them zipping around.
I knew that I had least had Pinkie’s approval, judging by the amount of icing coating her mouth as she gobbled slice after slice. Taking a slice for myself, I leaned back in the undersized chair, chewing it slowly to savour the taste. “Do you like it, Pinkie?” I asked, looking over to the sugar fiend.
She quickly turned to me with a chocolate-covered grin, made a strange squeaking noise, nodded, and then went back to her massacre. At least one pony was pleased.
I then looked over to the owners of Sugarcube Corner. “Mr and Mrs Cake, is my cake up to your standards?”
Mr Cake swallowed and licked his lips in delight. “It was delicious, but maybe light on the sugar in the batter. But the frosting—”
“Perfect!” Mrs Cake exclaimed. She nibbled on the last piece, only licking the frosting off. “Creamy, yet light. It helps balance out the cake, and the slight hint of coffee adds a subtle flavour along with the coconut.”
Mr Cake grinned. “Well, there you have it. My Cup Cake has been doing this longer than me. Trust her when it comes to cake.”
I was happy in the knowledge that at least chocolate cake from Earth was a winner here, even amongst professional bakers. Maybe that could be some kind of first contact thing: offer cake as a sign of non-violence. Unless it was diamond dogs—that could be a sign of war.
Pinkie had worked her way through half of the cake in the meantime, having abandoned her chair for the floor. My day with her had been a success, at least by my standards. We had worked out the party issue, I‘d taught her how to bake a chocolate cake from Earth, and I’d told her of the kind of parties I was used to.
But what had I learned from her? Honestly, not much. Well, I knew she had an iron stomach, could eat her own weight in cake, and was probably immune to diabetes. Her eccentric behaviour and energy probably came from all the sugar she consumed each day. Still made me want to see Pinkie react to espresso or energy drinks…
Nevertheless, it had been an interesting time with the hyperactive mare, though to say I was mentally exhausted was putting it mildly. I could probably spend more time with her, maybe build up some type of immunity to her, though that would be a stretch and a half. In the end, my suspicions about her had been way wrong, just as Twilight had maintained.
Finishing my cake, I looked up at the wall, noting that it was almost four in the evening. “Pinkie, was there anything else you wanted to teach me today, or can I return to Twilight’s castle?”
The pink party pony had chocolate frosting covering her face when she turned to me, and extended her exceptionally long tongue to lick her entire face clean. As far as I knew, horse tongues weren’t that long, though my knowledge concerning horses wasn’t that impressive anyway.
She put a hoof to her lower lip, scrunching her face adorably. “Hmm, not that I can remember. We fixed decorations, made a cake, talked—OH NO!”
She sprung up and sped out the door and headed upstairs. In a matter of seconds, she was back again, trotting in place while looking anxiously at me. “I almost forgot I was supposed to entertain the children at Tootsie Shoes Cute-ceañera! I have to hurry or I’ll disappoint them!” She stopped trotting and pointed an accusing hoof at me. “I blame your chocolate cake for making me forget!”
And with those words, she once more sped away, leaving the swinging doors squeaking and a faintly pony-shaped cloud of dust behind.
‘That isn’t possible! This is real life, not some kid’s cartoon! Why?!’
While I sat there in befuddlement, Pinkie returned, holding the doors open. “Unless you wanna come with me!” She beamed.
Holding up my hands, I shook my head nervously. “Oh no, Pinkie, I’m a stranger to them. Besides, it’s the filly’s big day, not mine. Wouldn’t want to steal the spotlight.”
“Okay then. Dismissed!” She even saluted to me.
And with those words, she was gone again, leaving me behind. I swore I would never attempt to understand her—that path led to madness. Or sugar. Or madness on a sugar rush.
After hanging the apron back on the wall and bidding goodbye to the Cakes, I decided to head back to the castle. Turning in early today sounded like a good idea, but I doubted that Princess Questions would allow me to. It didn’t matter anyway—I needed her to commit me to a mental institution. That song number earlier today still crept me out.
That was when I caught the sound of two toddlers experiencing the combined rush of caffeine and sugar coming from Sugarcube Corner.
“EEEEEEEEHHHH!”
“AAAAAAAAAAHHH!”
“Forgive me, Mr and Mrs Cake,” I uttered before bursting into laughter.
***
By the time I entered Twilight’s library, the pony in question already had her nose in a book, several others stacked neatly beside her table. She also had a blackboard next to it filled with numbers, equations, and other markings that made no sense to my fatigued mind.
Unfortunately, my exhaustion had caught up with me, so I sat down opposite her while my head slumped onto the table with a bang. She must have been completely absorbed in her studies, because she released a frightened yelp at the sound of my horn hitting the hardwood table.
“Magnus?!” she shouted. “Why—Are you and Pinkie done already? I thought you were supposed to be with her for at least a couple of hours longer.”
“Yeah,” I answered lazily. “Cutie mark party… she’s entertaining.”
“Oh, well, that would explain it.”
There was a long pause between us. I liked the silence. No Pinkie blabbering away, just sile—
“Are you okay?”
Leaning my head to the side, I gazed at the purple alicorn who had adopted a confused expression. I sighed heavily. “I’m tired. My head is tired, my ears are tired. I just want to sleep, that’s all. Oh, and I’m currently going insane.”
There was another lengthy pause. “What happened?” she asked carefully, her voice laced with concern.
“Well, where should I begin? It all started when Pinkie suddenly started to sing about why ponies loves parties, but then other ponies flocked to her and started to sing with her, and I swear I heard music that matched her song come from somewhere. Then I heard, or knew, the words of the song in my head. I even knew what to sing. Not like hearing voices, I know, but the lyrics for a song. Pretty similar, right? So, I’m currently experiencing mental instability.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “Know of any good mental institutions around here?”
I lifted my head slightly to look at Twilight. Instead of appearing flustered at my predicament, she instead wore a smile so wide she could compete against Pinkie, all while clopping her hooves together excitedly.
“You had a Song Moment?!” she exclaimed merrily, leaving me questioning what had possibly made her so thrilled. She quickly grabbed a quill and parchment and asked, “What was the song like? How did it make you feel? What was your part of the song? The lyrics, I mean. How did you feel afterwards?”
Staring at her, I blinked twice. “Upbeat. Confused. Can’t remember. Doubting my sanity.”
“What?” Twilight cocked her head, her eyebrow shooting up almost into her bangs. “A Song Moment made you confused?”
This time, it was my turn to cock my head. “What the hell is a Song Moment? Is that what you call insanity?”
Another pause entered the conversation while Twilight and I frowned at each other. It was Twilight who asked first. “Humans don’t experience Song Moments, do they?”
“I don’t even know what a Song Moment is!” I nearly yelled in frustration.
“Oh, I see. Well, this requires an explanation.”
She walked over to the bookshelf, levitating down books while reading their titles, before she finally found the correct one. Floating it over to me, I read the title: The Mystery of Song.
“You should read this when you have time to spare. I can understand that a Song Moment can cause some confusion to somepony who doesn’t know about it,” Twilight began, going into lecture mode, “but the Song is completely natural, and everypony will experience one on average at least six to eight times a year, if not more. A Song Moment is basically a moment in a pony's life when they suddenly feel the need to sing about their current situation, usually when their emotions are high or in turmoil. The ambient magic that exists all around us can cause music to manifest out of thin air as well, and can even cause ponies to play instruments if they have the talent for it. Anypony nearby can also hear the music, and they may join in on the song, voluntarily or involuntarily. Now you know what a Song Moment is.” She giggled gleefully. “I didn’t even know humans could experience Song Moments. This must be preserved for posterity!” With that, she reached for her quill.
I slowly sat up straight, staring at Twilight while wondering what kind of loopy-land Equestria was. Spontaneous flash mobs that burst into song and dance? Yeah, this all felt like the setting of some weird cartoon. All the Disney movies had random musical numbers—why not this place as well? Colourful ponies suddenly started singing about their feelings and stuff and no one batted an eye. All normal here. Yessiree.
“So,” I inquired carefully, feeling slightly relieved I wasn’t insane. “Ponies just start singing out of the blue and it’s considered normal?”
“Of course,” Twilight answered. She looked up, her quill still scribbling away. “Since you asked me, I deduced that humans don’t experience Song Moments at all. Perhaps it’s your newfound magic that’s allowed you to hear the Song.”
“But… I didn’t sing,” I explained.
“Because you chose not to,” Twilight answered. “You will always have the choice of participating, but there may come a time when you will sing your own song, and you will have no choice but to sing, whether you want to or not.”
Sighing, I rubbed my face in exasperation and promised that the next time I heard a song, I would run away. Far, far away. For me, singing in public was the most embarrassing thing I could imagine. I could do without anyone judging my singing ability, thank you very much.
I had to admit it, this world was a far cry from home. A person of impeccable logic and reason would only find whispers of Earth while being forced to grapple with the most bizarre scenarios. Even the most religious person would look at Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, witness what they could do with their magic, and find their faith tested to its breaking point.
I felt rather tested myself. I was doing okay so far, but who knew what the days and months held in store for me.
“This world is weird,” I muttered under my breath. Twilight didn’t hear me as she was busy with recording our conversation. I knew she had more questions, but sleep was a seductive temptress right now.
I was about to get up when a topic from earlier that day flashed across my mind. “Twilight.” I knocked on the table, rousing the alicorn from her writing. “I have another question, about friendship.”
She looked up, her quill ceasing to write. “Go on.”
“If I say that ponies value friendship highly, am I right or wrong?”
Twilight merely smiled. “You’re absolutely correct. How did you come to that conclusion?”
“It came up earlier during the day, and I’ve seen a few examples as well. To me, it seems as if you put much more value to friendship than humans do. That’s not to say that we don’t, but you all seem to take it very seriously. Pinkie’s party, for example. She was adamant about me making friends.”
Twilight mulled over the question, and from the look on her face, a lecture was incoming. “It’s true that ponies value friendship, but that goes back a long way to the age when ponies didn’t speak or think as we do. It was when earth ponies lived in the fields and forests, when pegasi lived high in the clouds and only visited the land to forage for food, and when unicorns lived high in the mountains or in the forests. When ponies moved in herds, or family groups.
“Imagine a single pony of any species living on its own. It would be an easy target for predators, finding food on its own would be difficult, and defending itself against a stronger foe would be almost impossible. However, if that pony was part of a larger group of ponies, he or she would be protected by the entire group. A predator would think twice before attempting to attack a group of, say, thirty ponies fighting for their lives. A group, herd, or family unit, also made it easier to find food and water. The same concept applied to socializing and finding a mate.”
“Mate? As in husband or wife?” I asked, wondering about her choice of words. I quickly remembered who I was speaking with; of course Twilight would choose the proper terms befitting her scholarly nature.
“Yes.” Twilight nodded enthusiastically. “However, if a pony did not behave and attacked other ponies or made enemies in the group, there would be a risk that the group would fall into disharmony and eventually splinter, which in turn would risk the lives of the entire herd. Before that happened, the troublemaker would be labelled an outcast and left behind, making survival difficult. Therefore, socializing and forging bonds with the ponies in the group was essential for a newcomer. Helping find food, protecting foals, keeping an eye out for predators—our early ancestors did all these things, even yours.”
I pondered her words for a second until I noticed my legs. “Oh yeah, unicorn heritage, right?”
“Right. You see, in our society, we still consider friendship and companionship as vital, due to our innate herd instincts. It’s extremely rare for a pony to prefer living alone, far away from a village or town. Even remote farms around Equestria usually have several other farms close by. That’s how close we ponies are to each other. We just aren’t meant to be alone, we crave—no, need other ponies around us.”
“I think I get the picture.” So, it was all due to instincts. A herd mentality, an extremely strong one too, to have lasted this long. It made sense; wild horses back home were pretty much the same, at least as far as I could remember. “That partially explains Pinkie’s behaviour.”
Twilight chuckled. “Yes, but only partially. Pinkie loves making new friends. As to why she hugs you every morning? Contact, not talking, but actual physical contact is also a trait we retain from our distant ancestors. Nuzzling and hugging are just two ways we display affection towards another and confirm our relationships. It also helps strengthen the bonds between two ponies.”
“Woah, rewind there!” I exclaimed, holding up both hands. “I might end up singing one day; are you saying that I might also go around hugging ponies because my instincts tell me to? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that would be for me?”
Twilight chuckled while waving a dismissive hoof at me. “Maybe, I don’t know. We have no way of knowing how deep your unicorn instincts go in terms of clashing against your human nature. As far as I’ve seen, you don’t really behave like a pony at all.”
I nodded slowly, sorting my thoughts properly. “So, Pinkie hugs me because she wants to be friends and because she wants me to feel better about my situation, right?” Twilight nodded. “But you and your other friends don’t, and as far as I can remember, neither did Celestia and Luna.”
Hesitating, and looking away as well, Twilight pursed her lips ever so slightly. “Um… as you said, friendship can take time to build, and we didn’t want to force anything on you. After all, you have a lot to learn about us. But there’s also another reason.”
“Which is?” I asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious.
“We can’t understand you,” she replied with a sigh. She rubbed her hooves nervously while occasionally peeking at me. “You see, we ponies communicate with words, but we also pay attention to body language. Ears, eyes, mouth, face, tail, subtle movements of the legs, hooves and flanks, even the slightest movements of a pegasus’ wings, an earth pony's body, or how unicorns move their heads gives us additional information about the pony we’re speaking with. It’s like speaking two languages at once.”
Ah, that would explain a few things. Ponies were rather easy to read at times, those big eyes an open book, and their facial expressions were so animated that they could hardly conceal their emotions. Celestia and Luna, though, they usually acted so calmly, except for when I stood before them at the trial. They had visibly radiated anger then, especially Luna. I bet that over a few thousand years, they’d managed to create a hell of a poker face.
“But you can’t understand me based on body language, right?”
Twilight rubbed her hooves together and nodded. “Nopony has seen or interacted with a human before. We simply don’t know what to look for. Your face and body is like a book in a language nopony can decipher. You don’t have a tail, your ears don’t move, and your eyes are so small that we really can’t tell what you’re thinking about. Even your facial expressions can be misinterpreted. There’s an old story about the first diamond dogs arriving in Equestria. A simple smile from their ambassador caused panic because he displayed his fangs. You don’t have a pony’s teeth either; your canines are a bit scary. All we have to go on is your voice and how it changes pitch and volume, as well as a few obvious body movements. Because of that, understanding you can be difficult, and a little frustrating.”
“I see. Body language can be tricky from time to time.” I crossed my arms over my chest, recalling how I had assumed some ponies I had spoken with to be standoffish. They just couldn’t understand me as they would with their fellow ponies.
“I’m already as much of a pony as I can possibly be. It’s not like I can just change myself or add habits,” I pointed out.
Twilight shook her head. “No, it wouldn’t be fair if you had to change part of who you are. All we have to do is spend time with you in order to adjust. We might be a bit confused about you from time to time, so we might ask questions.”
Her comment made me laugh. “I’ve had so many questions so far, I think I can handle a few more.”
We spoke for a while longer on the subject, but my exhaustion soon reached a point where I could barely keep my eyes open. Fortunately, Spike returned after spending the day helping Rarity find gems, an errand he was glad to help with, according to Twilight.
While Spike got dinner going, I helped myself to some strong coffee and offered to help the dragon. He knew his way around a kitchen and politely declined, stating that today’s dinner was simply and quick to cook. He was right, and it didn’t take long before we all sat around the table, gorging on spaghetti with fried sweet potatoes and steamed root vegetables.
It had been a while since the last time I ate meat, which was back in Canterlot when I had been released from the infirmary, and I had to admit that I really wanted something juicy and fried, or maybe even barbequed. Where was my fishing pole anyway? Did it sink or was it saved by Luna’s crew? Meh, I could always go old-school and try spearfishing. Fishing was allowed around here, and I doubted they’d see spearfishing as inhumane. I just had to make sure that Fluttershy wasn’t around.
After dinner, I felt that the coffee hadn’t provided as much of a boost as I wanted, and I excused myself to go to bed. By the time I reached my room and got into bed, I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.
For some strange reason, all the images I remembered from my dream were pink and smelled of sugar.