The party dwindled in numbers throughout the passing hour. For each pony who made his or her way out the door, Pinkie Pie grew more and more aware she, once again, overdid it with the food. She knew nopony matched her sweet-tooth, but she couldn't eat the leftovers by herself!
The last time she tried, she got a tummy-ache and a few not-angry, but definitely not-happy words from the Cakes.
She made up doggy-bags in a last-ditch effort to unload the abundance. After a microphone-aided announcement, she then left them on a table by the door. She was delighted to see the brown paper bags snatched up as ponies filed out of Sugarcube Corner.
After she made sure Flash Sentry was accompanied by a complete baker's dozen of cupcakes on his way out, only she and her friends remained.
Rarity let out a content sigh. “Another lovely party, Pinkie, as always.”
Pinkie beamed, twirling a broom around in her hoof. “Thank you very much!”
“Do you want us to help you clean up?” asked Fluttershy, who was eyed the nearby closet.
“Nah. I got it. A little sweeping here and there, and this place will be hunky-dory again!”
Compared to some of her other shenanigans, her “Welcome to Ponyville” parties were on the tame end of the scale. It was more about the friendly atmosphere, rather than the decorations. She used only the bare minimum of the adornments: a “Welcome” banner, some balloons and, of course, the food.
Despite her protest, Twilight magically lowered the banner and rolled it up into a scroll, while Applejack gathered the balloons. “Where you do want these, Pinkie?” asked the latter.
She shrugged. “Just deflate them and set them somewhere for now. I'll take them upstairs later. I have a trunk in my room for all my party stuff.”
Fluttershy blinked. “Just... one trunk?”
“Must be some trunk,” grumbled Applejack.
Pinkie merely laughed. They weren't ready. The Secret Party-Planning Cave was to, for now, remain just that—secret.
Applejack dropped the last deflated balloon onto the little pile she had created. “I better head on out,” she huffed. “I gotta make sure Apple Bloom made it home safe 'n sound.”
“I wouldn't worry,” said Twilight. “If she made it to Zecora's without trouble, then she'd have no problem finding her way home.”
“Yeah, but she's my little sister, ya know?” She adjusted her hat. “But, I can guarantee it won't last long.”
“What won't last long?” asked Spike.
Twilight replied, “Apple Bloom is taking alchemy lessons from Zecora.”
“Hey, that's cool!”
Applejack dismissively waved her hoof. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but if she doesn't get her cutie mark as soon as she wants it, she'll get bored and move onto the next silly idea.”
Twilight frowned. “Alchemy isn't silly,” she grumbled, too low to be heard.
The bell above the entryway jingled. “We're back!” called Mr. Cake. He held the door open for his wife, who entered with the twins in two. “How'd the party go?”
Pinkie tossed a hoof-full of confetti into the air. “Super-successful-tastically!”
“That's good,” commented Mrs. Cake. “How are the rest of your girls doing?”
A myriad of positive replies came in unison, which made the older mare smile. “Good, good,” she chuckled. “Now, if you'll excuse me, Pound and Pumpkin are due for a nap.” The little ponies on her back both yawned.
As Mrs. Cake made her way upstairs, Applejack headed for the door. “It's good to see y'all again, Cakes, but I need to get myself back to the farm. So long!”
They bid her farewell, though Fluttershy was the next to announce her departure. When Rarity volunteered to walk her home, that left only Pinkie, Twilight, Spike, and Mr. Cake. “So, what's the new guy like?” the stallion asked.
“He's really nice,” Pinkie replied. “He's our new officer, too.”
“Wait, officer?” inquired Twilight. “Ponyville has a police force?”
Mr. Cake shrugged. “A small one, but yes.”
“Wow. Flash didn't mention that. I wonder why he left the Royal Guard.”
“I dunno,” Spike commented, “but it definitely seems like a downgrade.”
“Now, Spike, be nice.”
“Sorry.”
Twilight shook her head, Then, with a sigh, she nodded towards the door. “Let's head back to the library. Oh, and Pinkie?”
The other mare's ears perked. “Yeah?”
“If you see Rainbow, could you send her my way? I want to ask her about the storm.”
“Okie-dokie!”
“Thanks a bunch.”
Now alone with Mr. Cake, Pinkie moved behind the counter to gather the deflated balloons. It wasn't long before Cupcake descended the stairs to join them. “Pound and Pumpkin are sound asleep,” she announced in a soft voice, a relieved smile on her face. “How's our schedule, dear?”
“Free and clear, Cupcake.”
His beloved sighed. “Then, if you don't mind, I'm going to—” She stopped—her eyes widening as a thought suddenly occurred to her. “Oh, Carrot, the mail!”
Mr. Cake's face scrunched in confusion, before the same realization hit him. “Right, right.” He reached into the pocket of his apron. His hoof emerged with a neatly-sealed envelope. “You got a letter, Pinkie!” he exclaimed, holding it out to the pink pony. “It doesn't say who it's from, but it's clearly addressed to you.”
Pinkie released a delighted squeal as she snatched the envelope out of his grasp. “He kept his promise!” she cried cheerfully. She tore the top edge with her teeth and she delved into the letter immediately. The Cakes stood silent in anticipation, for whatever the missive held it had Pinkie grinning from ear to ear—a grin that grew the more she read. She finished the letter with a fit of giggles and she held it against her chest in a careful manner, as not to wrinkle it.
“Well?” pressed Mrs. Cake. “What is it, Pinkie?”
“A letter from my new friend, Cheese Sandwich!” Her eyes sparkled. “He's a party pony, like me!”
The Cakes exchanged a bewildered glance.
“He Pinkie Promised he'd write to me every now and again, just to fill me in on where he is and how he's doing, and he did!”
Both Carrot and Cupcake took a seat in front of the young mare. “Tell us more,” urged the latter. “It sounds like you've taken quite a liking to him.”
Smoothing the letter out on the counter, Pinkie wracked her brain for a starting point. “Well, he's a lot like me. Except, you know, he's a stallion. And he likes to wear a poncho and cowpony hat when he's not in party-mode. Oh, but that's not really what you asked, is it?” She gave them a sheepish smile. “I met him in the Crystal Empire. He's the one who helped me with Trixie's party.”
Given the Cakes already knew about that particular event, she immediately moved the topic forward. “I wasn't super sure how to feel about him at first. He looked a little too serious to be a party pony.” She clapped her hooves together in glee. “But, wow, did he prove me wrong! He really knows how to throw a party! A big party, though, not a small one. That's the only difference between our parties. I mean, I nailed that masquerade ball, but I think it will be a long, long, long, long time before I can do that again!”
Her gaze moved to the letter once more. “He's in Manehattan right now, hosting a celebration for the newly-renovated city hall. He's off to Tall Tale after that.”
Chuckling, Mrs. Cake made her way into the kitchen. “He sounds like a busy stallion.”
“He is! He travels all over Equestria, just to make ponies smile!”
“So, when are we going to meet him?” questioned Carrot. “I'm sure he can find time to stop by Ponyville.”
“I'll have to ask him!”
His brow furrowed. “But, how do you know where to send the letter? Pinkie Sense?”
“Yup!”
Mrs. Cake emerged with a plate of sandwiches, which she set between Carrot and Pinkie. “Well, let's hope he visits soon.” Yet, though she would never say it aloud, the thought of a second Pinkie Pie was somewhat exhausting. “I want to thank him personally for helping you and the others.”
Pinkie reached for one of the sandwiches. As much as she loved the confections offered by the Corner, it was unwise to overindulge. “Too much of a good thing,” and all that.
A bizarre twinge in her hoof stopped her outreach. “Huh?” she whispered. She rolled the appendage lightly, but the sensation spread up her limb like wildfire. It spasmed—knocking the platter to the floor.
Mr. Cake flinched away from the scene. Cupcake ran to his side. They watched in growing concern as Pinkie's body was overwhelmed by tremors. It was like the mare was experiencing an earthquake only she felt. Even when they slowed, her mane and tail seemed to inflate. As they slowed to a complete stop, the pink tufts popped and sagged.
Eyes wide, Pinkie clung to the floor to steady herself. There was a sudden sense of something—something that felt as though a dark cloud had latched onto her. “D-d-doozy!” she gasped. “It's a doozy!”
Cautiously, Mrs. Cake approached her. When it became apparent there would be no more quaking, she ran a comforting hoof over Pinkie's mane. “Was... Was that your Pinkie Sense?”
“Y-y-yeah.” Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. In the end, she ended up leaning against the older mare for support. The cold weight in her chest was somewhat alleviated by the contact. “I-I'm fine.”
Except, she wasn't entirely sure.
“Oh, you poor dear, you look terrible,” mused Cupcake.
Carrot spoke up. “Why did your Pinkie Sense go off?”
Pinkie glanced at him. “Hold on... I-I need to think.”
“It's not another ancient evil, is it?”
Cupcake glared at him.
Pinkie shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. Nothing... that bad.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Cupcake nudged her. “If there's no big baddie coming to Ponyville, or there's no world-ending cataclysm, the least you can do is rest for a bit.”
“Okay...”
“Do you want to talk about it first?”
Allowing a little more of her weight to be supported by Mrs. Cake, Pinkie attempted to sort through her feelings. But, it wasn't easy. If they weren't positive she didn't know what to do with them—what to make of them. It definitely wasn't sadness. She and sadness were, unfortunately, old friends.
It was something a little darker and more alarming. It left her insides jittery. It wasn't a good jittery, like when she was baking a magnificent birthday cake or when it was her turn to watch the twins.
“It's dread, I think,” she said. She spoke slowly. “Nothing bad is coming, but...” Her eyes wandered randomly over the room. “Somepony is coming, and it's not Cheese.” The stallion wouldn't be paying them a visit for quite some time, she knew. “I don't know who it is, but they're important. Not important like Princess Celestia or Sapphire Shores or Fancy Pants or—”
Mrs. Cake gently pressed her hoof against the young mare's mouth to silence her. “Enough,” she scolded, though her voice was far from harsh. “Don't stress yourself out over this. It's time for rest. We'll talk later, okay?”
Pinkie hung her head low. Then, after a second or two, she nodded. She didn't have the energy to argue and, silently, she allowed herself to be led upstairs.