//------------------------------//
// 2 
// Story: The Blessed 
// by RarityEQM 
//------------------------------//

Mrs. Cake smiled nervously, watching Pinkie bounce around the shop, tending to costumers and reciting rehearsed menus and specials. But something seemed off. Something seemed off for the last few days. Pinkie wasn't just energetic, she was down right jittery. She couldn't stop moving, even when standing still. Her head would quiver and her legs trembled. She only stopped when she ducked into the back room and eyed a pot of coffee she'd brewed earlier. She couldn't hold the pot still long enough for her to pour it into a mug, so she simply opted to drink it from straight the pot. She drank all of it, and then was right back to work. 

Needless to say, Mrs. Cake was beginning to feel a tad unnerved. Normally Pinkie's spastic, hyperactivity was a boon, strangely enough. She could be everywhere at once, helping multiple customers and handling multiple orders with energy Mrs. Cake could only dream of. But this...This wasn't normal. This wasn't healthy. 

"Pinkie, Dear, can we talk, just for a moment in the back, please?" Mrs. Cake asked sweetly. Pinkie glanced at the clock and winced. 11:46. She smiled in return and made her way past the counter, stealing a glance at the clock again. Still 11:46. She still had time. She could squeeze in one more cupcake. 

"Pinkie..." Mrs. Cake began, once she'd managed to steal a moment of time for herself and Pinkie. Pinkie didn't seem to be listening, though. She was helping herself to a box of chocolate covered donuts sitting on the table. She was scarfing them down, one at a time. She wasn't even chewing. She was forcefully jamming them down her throat, only taking a couple precious gulps of air in between. 

"MMmhmhmh?" Pinkie asked, her muzzle filled with confectionery. Mrs. Cake winced. 

"Pinkie, sweetie, is there something bothering you?" she asked. Her maternal instincts peppering her words with a soothing tone. Really, truly, Mrs. Cake could only see Pinkie as a daughter. A child. Her first child, before the twins, and she had a tendency to treat her as such on occasion. For a brief moment, Pinkie froze completely. She stared at Mrs. Cake for a long few moments, before the hyperactivity kicked back in, and she bounced on her hooves. 

"Nope-roonie! Everything is okie dokey A-OK super sweety sweet and fine and dandy-doo with sprinkles on top!! But Mrs. Cake, I gotta go real quick, okay? Real quick!" Pinkie barked, and immediately turned towards the door, and dashed back into the shop. She looked at the clock. 11:50. She had time. She pulled off her apron and laid it on the counter and made her way to the bakery door and then outside, where she sprinted down the street. 

Sadly, Mrs. Cake could only watch.