//------------------------------//
// Chapter Three: The Swirly Lollipop 
// Story: Pinkie and the Mysterious Time Doughnut 
// by Feech 
//------------------------------//

At the Hayburger for supper, Rarity expounded on the grueling Fashion Week schedule. "And I simply must make calls on the other designers who are debuting lines in their boutiques this week. Many of them are close friends of her—mine. They'll be noticing every detail. I never should have agreed to this!"

"But they'll be mane-deep in Fashion Week, too," said Pinkie. "If you think about it too much and make a fuss about the details, itsy bitsy mistakes, you might make ponies notice things they wouldn't have even paid attention to on their own."

"Maybe," said Rarity, darkly. "Then again, I could ruin absolutely everything halfway through the week."

"That's not going to happen." Pinkie reached for her soft drink. She took a confident sip. "You have three days. That's plenty of time to get ready. There are a few details to work out, surface stuff." She gestured at the trays on the table. "As in, the double-basket of double-decker mushroom and onion burgers with hot sauce. You're not trying to impersonate me!"

"Oh . . . it's just that ponies seem to like food so much. I always see you all shoveling—"

Pinkie gave her a little, but stern, headshake.

"Er. I always see ponies partaking of generous portions."

Pinkie clapped her hooves. "Well done!"

Rarity glanced at the piles of burgers, onion rings, and deep-fried chocolate chip cookies. "So the food is too much. But being at the Hayburger is all right?"

"Oh, yeah, it's a great friends hangout!"

"Oh, good. I'm enjoying it."

"Me, too!"

Rarity reached into her saddlebag on the seat next to her and brought out a sheet of paper. She pushed it across the table toward Pinkie. "We just had these printed. Volunteers are posting them all over Canterlot. Ponies will subscribe and pledge based on nopony guessing which of us is the changeling. When that happens—if it happens before the end of the week, an announcement will be made and pledges will only be collected accordingly. It's going to a cause we're madly passionate about, the Fabulousness for Orphans charity. And we just found out that if we can survive the entire week, the princesses will match any donations we've earned from pledges. And I'm not even going to make it one day! There's too much interaction with ponies that know Rarity!"

Pinkie sat up straight and tapped her own chest with her hoof. "I know Rarity, and you're almost there. There's just something I can't put my hoof on, some kind of ingredient that doesn't go inside a good Rarity."

"Well, we had better make the most of my three days until showtime. You can help me by pretending various contingencies, and then I'll be ready to handle them professionally if they arise."

"We've been doing it that way for sixty-four days now," said Pinkie.

"Pardon?"

"I mean only one day, but we've used that way of getting you ready sixty-four times over."

Rarity slowly lowered her head, and looked up at Pinkie through lashes that made her eyes look even larger than a regular, non-fabulous pony's. "I don't . . . I don't wish to be any trouble to you, darling. Are you bored?"

"Bored? Of course not! Okay, contingency, contingency. I've got one! Picture this. I'm doing things at Fashion Week, trying on new party dresses. But suddenly! I turn into a giant butterscotch milkshake."

"I have to help a butterscotch milkshake try on clothes?"

"Sure, you get me a nice green dress, I'm sure you'll do fine, that's not the contingency. Suddenly! I have to go into outer space and rescue a race of green alien ponies who can't speak Equestrian, and their spaceship is in space-distress, and the aliens are naturally attracted to the color of my stylish, new green dress—and I can't speak, being a milkshake, and have to use drinking-straw sign language—and I take them aboard my cup-carton spaceship. Every place for a cup has an alien in it. And it turns out that these little green space-alien ponies are fashion designers, and this is their one chance to put on a runway show in Canterlot, in Equestria."

"I would give the fashion aliens half of the stage time allotted to my Rarity for You show. That is right, isn't it? Rarity is the soul of generosity."

"I'm not done," said Pinkie. "Away down at Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack saw my cup-carton spaceship land in Canterlot, and she came to meet the green alien ponies. She traipses up to you in the street in her muddy work duds and starts talking about how exciting this year's Fashion Week is going to be. 'Why, y'all even got some o' them there big-city aliens. Ain't that a shindig in a pumpkin patch. Cows alfalfa acorns. I wore my work clothes to Fashion Week. My overalls are as muddy as a muskrat at a pie-eating contest. I'm as impatient as a pig at the trough to see the new designs you'll be puttin' out for sale."

"Why, I would say, 'Darling, how exciting that you could come to Canterlot for Fashion Week.'"

Pinkie Pie narrowed her eyes and frowned.

Rarity fluttered her long eyelashes. "There's nothing wrong with that, is there? Applejack is a friend. I would be delighted to see her."

"Of course! But! Into all of her dialogue and description I snuck that bit about dirty clothes."

"The muddy duds, yes. I heard you."

"So why didn't you freak out?"

Rarity's elegant shoulders sagged. "That should have freaked me out? But I'm incredibly tolerant of dirty clothes on ponies. Consider Sweetie Belle—"

Pinkie planted a hoof on the table. "This is Applejack we're talking about. You can handle dirty clothes on ponies, but whenever AJ goes out in public in dirty clothes, you stammer and stumble over your words, trying to be polite about it, and then you give up and just criticize her."

Rarity reared back in her seat. "I do not!"

"Now that was perfect Rarity," said Pinkie, making an A-Okay sign with her hoof.

Rarity gave her mane a little shake of delight, and a gloss of green rippled over the purple.

"Watch out for that, though."

"Oh—sorry."





One night, it occurred to Pinkie to stay up all night and see all of the time doughnut. After the evening rain cleared, she sat on the balcony, drinking cola-and-ice-cream floats and munching sticky caramel nougat brownie peanut butter pie. She went to tuck Gummy in around midnight, went back to her pie on the balcony, and didn't remember going to bed herself. She woke fully rested, under her quilt, at four in the morning.

Her faithful, old-soldier toothbrush was back in its holder, looking tired and resigned.

She got ready for breakfast and hovered her hoof above the top step. There was that silly old jelly bean again. Pinkie stomped on it. She left it sticking to the bottom of her hoof all the way downstairs and across the bakery floor.

Streusel showed up right on schedule with her boxes of mistake-flavored cupcakes.

Just before lunch, Pinkie was obliged to politely reply with regrets to Fluttershy's invitation. She did occasionally change up her day enough to accept the invitation, but today, she would go the usual route of thinking about how she'd get to see Fluttershy again sometime soon—depending on how you defined “soon”. Tomorrow was soon, but lately, tomorrow never happened.

After supper with Rarity, Pinkie sat in the street, watching the interaction of ripples in a puddle. Each time a raindrop came down, it made a ripple, and the ripple bumped another ripple. Nowaday Pinkie only lived in one ripple, over and over again.

She noted the muddiness of her coronets. Dirty splashes had reached up to her knees, and there was some mud on her hocks. She gave a little frown.

The twin brother teamster mules, Biscuit and Baked Beans, drove up, hauling dry goods secured under a tarp which kept the dry goods literally dry. Biscuit sat on the box, driving with the reins between his teeth, and Baked Beans was pulling. They went at a good clip, and the wagon wheels sheeted muddy puddle water all over Pinkie's side.

"Whoa!" Biscuit pulled his brother to a stop. "Sorry, Ms. Pie. Almost didn't see you there."

"It's okay, I was already wet." She lifted her grimy leg. "And only a little bit dirty, before the mud you added."

Biscuit tipped his hat to her, which had the effect of dumping rainwater down his foreleg. He clicked his tongue to his brother, and they drove off.

Pinkie stood, shook her mane, and trudged toward Sugarcube Corner. Dirty water trickled down her side and left an outline of dirt where it dripped down the middle of her breast. Somewhere beyond the storm, the sun was setting. The light that made its way through the downpour was grey, and the rounded underbellies of the clouds, and the houses at ground level, were greenish-ochre. Beyond the veil, she knew there must be violet, orange, blue and even pink, bright as her own coat color—when her coat wasn't sloshed in mud.





Streusel put the bakery boxes on the counter and said in an apologetic tone, "This isn't what I ordered."

Pinkie's ears sagged. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't feel bad," said Streusel. "I should have opened the boxes last night."

"I won't be able to make exactly what you ordered in time for the party," Pinkie admitted.

"I'd like some kind of replacement—if you can manage it—but if you just refund my bits, there will be no hard feelings."

"Oh, I like to go way beyond no hard feelings." Pinkie fixed her valued customer with narrowed eyes and a stern frown. "I want you to be delighted." She whisked a golden linen table-cover off of a mountain of baked goods. "Cupcakes, tea cakes, coffee cake, trifle, brownies of course. I snagged a couple of bagels from the breakfast rush batch because we won't sell many of those this morning anyway."

Cinnamon Caramel Streusel Crunch Swirl blinked. "But how. . ."

Pinkie blew her sweaty forelock out of her eyes. "Usually when I make a mistake, I can only replace the order with what we have on hoof. Today I saw it coming, and it was too late to do anything about it last night, but I thought, what would I love to always do, if I had a chance to know ahead of time that a mistake was coming?"

Streusel stared at the pyramid of boxes with the trifle bowl on top. "It's so nice, but you didn't have to go to all of this trouble."

Pinkie pffed and flapped a hoof. "It was my pleasure. Refunded bits are nice, but so boring. Oh—I just this morning, I mean this-morning-this-morning, had a great idea about the icing for the sugar cookies! I'll mix up the colors—I already have the white icing—and I'll send some tubs of it with you, and the foals can decorate their own!"

"Oh, this is so nice of you, but, um." Streusel had placed a few of the boxes on her back. She stood behind the rest of the enormous pile of customer satisfaction, and Pinkie could barely see a bit of her shaggy forelock and the tips of her ears.

"Not to worry! The teamster brothers, Biscuit and Baked Beans, are waiting with their wagon out back of the kitchen, to take you and your baked goods to the party. Luckily they come by every morning with the cream cheese, and I asked them to wait."

Pinkie and Biscuit loaded up all of the baked goods, plus the customer. Streusel and Pinkie Pie waved to each other as Biscuit and Beans started off. The wagon jolted out of the alley and onto the street, and Pinkie called after Streusel, "Sorry again for the mistake!"





Twilight and Pinkie trotted and pronked, respectively, out to Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight was going to meet AJ and Big Mac for lunch, and Pinkie would pick up the very same fresh eggs and cream as she had picked up hundreds of times before. When they arrived and shut the heavy barn door behind themselves, Granny asked Pinkie how she was enjoying the quilt the Crusaders had made for her. Pinkie had answered this question for her lots and lots of times, but it was still Granny's first time asking it.

"I'm enjoying it lots!" Pinkie answered. "And Gummy is, too."

Twilight jerked her head up, pricked her ears alertly, and asked Granny if there were any magical elements to the hoofmade quilt, besides the magic inherent in heirloom crafts.

"Well, now," said Granny, "some say as there's magic in any hoofmade quilt. But there's a little extry magic in ours. We make 'em with Apple Family thread spun from wool from our magic sheep, which are regular sheep but we feed them peanut butter cookies and dried zap apples as treats."

Twilight asked, "Pinkie, have you done anything different with the quilt since you bought it?"

"I've had different dreams under it. So many different colors of pastel penguins. Not to mention different flavors of stick-candy pine trees. There was this one time when I grew wings and antlers! And Father Hearthswarming hitched me to his sleigh, which was fun—pulling around all those presents! But I knew it had to be a dream, since obviously he can pull a sleigh just fine on his own."

"Besides dreams," interposed Twilight, with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Did you do anything physically different with the quilt?"

Pinkie pondered. "Oh! I rolled Gummy in a corner of it, just as if he was a sweet alligator filling in a crazy-quilt crepe. Gummy has shared my bed lots of times before, but he usually sits on a pillow. During the time doughnut it's always been chilly last night, so I've always made him into an alligatorrito."

"Well, that'll do it," said Granny, rocking. "Patchwork quilts holds memories. And if'n you wind a gator in that thread, even without a patchwork quilt in the mix, you'll get weird and woolly things happening to the time stream. 'Course, it's only ever come up a couple of times 'round these parts. We don't have much call for wrapping alligators."

"There you have it, Pinkie," said Twilight triumphantly. "All you have to do is not wrap Gummy in a corner of the quilt. You can solve your time-doughnut problem tonight!"

Pinkie gasped. Her eyes widened. "You mean—you mean if I don't wrap Gummy in the quilt, this day will be ended?"

"Looks like it!" said Twilight.

"It's pretty near a sure thing," affirmed Granny.

"It'll be great to have you looped back in with us, Pinkie," said Twilight.

"Doughnutted back in," said Pinkie, but in a distracted tone. She was quiet while Granny helped her pack the eggs and cream, and she jogged thoughtfully back to town. Some of the time, she even dropped into a walk.





"Hold on a second, please," said Pinkie to the messenger-colt.

On Sugarcube Corner stationery Pinkie quickly wrote, "Dear Fluttershy: I'm sorry, but I can't make it for lemonade today. It sounds like so much fun! Hopefully I'll see you soon. Here's a little something for your ants. Love, Pinkie D. Pie."

She took the strawberry jelly bean out of her mane, dropped it onto the floor, and gave it a sound, purposeful stomp. She felt the sugary shell give under her hoof, and her pink hoof came up with shiny gel on it. Pinkie Pie scraped the jelly bean off of her forehoof and enclosed it in the envelope along with the note to Fluttershy.

Ants wouldn't mind a little floor dirt, and squishing the jelly bean made it easier for their wee little mandibles to take bites out of the candy. Fluttershy's cute little ants sure would love swarming all over the candy! Or perhaps they'd eat it a bit at a time, carrying off dainty bites to serve to their queen ant, or to savor in their own little anty rooms. Anterooms? Pinkie Pie laughed. She'd have to wait for Fluttershy's reply to find out what the ants had decided to do with the jelly bean, and until then the imaginings were unlimited. She handed her note, along with his fee and a free cupcake, to the messenger-colt. "Well," Pinkie said as she closed the door, "almost time for my meeting with Cheese Sandwich!"





Pinkie Pie pronked toward the Elks Club Lodge. As she pronked, she remembered more than three hundred and sixty arguments with Cheese. Pinkie vowed, "I will not get into an argument with Cheese Sandwich about whether or not it's weird to serve yak's milk cheese to elks. I will not get into an argument with Cheese Sandwich about mascarpone pastry filling. I will not debate about his favorite Gruyère fondue. I will not argue with Cheese Sandwich over apple varieties to use for cheese boards. I won't squabble over whether strained yogurt counts as a type of cheese. What other kinds of cheeses are there? Have we had any fights about fresh, squeaky curds? Have we argued over Maredsous? What about Bel Paese? Hey, that's fun to say! Bel Paese! That even rhymes with itself. Bel Pah-ay-say, the cheese that's fun to say." Pinkie pronked and chanted, making one hop for the Bel, and one hop for all of Paese. "Bel. Paese. Bel. Paese."

She entered the lodge, still chanting, and Cheese, who was, as he was every day, already there, lowered the lip balm he was touching to Boneless Two's beak. "What's this about Bel Paese?"

Pinkie blinked several times and a thought formed and sprang from her lips. "I thought we'd have it as marmalade and cheese sandwiches!"

Cheese narrowed his eyes. "We agreed on spreadable cheeses to accompany the desserts for this party. I want to use the Bel Paese on the hot horse d'ouevres."

"But Bel Paese is so versatile!"

"Exactly. So it can do what other dessert cheeses can't."

"But it slices nicely! Instead of spreadables, we could have slices of Bel Paese to put on hot toasted white bread with the jams and jellies buffet."

Cheese sighed, and the slow, restrained sound was as ominous as the slow breath a dragon might take before it breathed fire. He spoke. "I was afraid of something like this. You're so devoted to desserts you forget that Bel Paese can be a savory cheese."

Pinkie saw Cheese's mood unraveling along with his mane, and she gave the unraveling thread a little tug. "That doesn't mean you have to pigeonhole it into hot horse d'oeuvres," said Pinkie.

Cheese Sandwich put a forehoof down firmly. He frowned so hard his lips drooped past his chin. "I'm not pigeonholing Bel Paese! It can do whatever it likes, as long as I don't find it muscling out the whipped Ricotta and cream cheese on the dessert table!"

Pinkie and Cheese stepped closer to each other, scrunched their muzzles together and glared. Pinkie yelled, "Bel Paese doesn't have muscles!"

Cheese snarled, "It's a metaphor. A metaphor, Pinkie!"

"Argue!" Pinkie shouted. "Argue, argue!"

Cheese Sandwich grabbed Boneless Two and created a deep voice for him, so the chicken could join in the argument. Boneless more or less sided with Cheese Sandwich. When the rubber chicken began to be swayed by Pinkie's devastating logic, Cheese, aghast at this betrayal, set Boneless on the floor beside Pinkie and faced them both, forelegs folded.

Cheese couldn't stand up to both Pinkie and Boneless Two for long, especially since part of his speaking time was devoted to providing the rubber chicken's voice against himself. He lifted a forehoof and declared imperiously, in his own voice, "Bel Paese shall be served with marmalade and white bread as dessert sandwiches!"

"That's what Boneless Two and I have been saying!" screamed Pinkie, and then she and Cheese dissolved on the floor in a puddle of knees, hocks, and giggles.

Cheese struggled up into a half-sit and wiped tears from his eyes. "That was great! We hardly ever argue."

"We argue every day," said Pinkie mysteriously, still flopped on her side. "A different topic every time. I'm gonna miss it. I don't really want you to change anything about the Bel Paese for this party, you know."

Cheese smiled. "We'll have to convince Boneless Two."

Luckily, Boneless, as limp on the floor as the two giggling ponies had been, was amenable to Cheese's original plan for the Bel Paese.

Later, as they were working on the tiered treat displays, Pinkie Pie said to Cheese, "This party is going to be so much fun. I used to think I'd never get tired of anticipating a party, and I was right."





Rarity was surrounded by hayburgers and fried side dishes. Many pieces of the fried side dishes had been dipped once in something tasty from an assortment of condiment bowls, had one bite taken out, then had been hastily pushed aside in embarrassment when Pinkie pointed out that "Rarity-Rarity" would never be seen eating that.

Pinkie said, "Ah, never mind. Eat the rest of that chimi-pickle slider. I'm kinda getting the feeling that it's not very helpful of me to suggest things like not eating delicious food. Just eat what you enjoy. I've been figuring it out." Pinkie Pie twirled her hooves next to her ears to demonstrate cogs and gears turning in her mind. "All these things we're trying to fix don't matter. The only thing that's off is that you're trying too hard to be Rarity."

Rarity blinked her wet lashes. "Why—darling—whomever else should I try to be?"

"Nopony else. Of course you're trying to be Rarity! That's the whole point of all this practicing! But do you think Rarity tries to be Rarity? Sure, she has to work to be fabulous, I'm sure it's more work than it looks like, but as for being Rarity, she just is."

"But I'm not!" wailed Not-Rarity.

"But nopony is supposed to know that," said Pinkie. "And you're so scared of anypony finding out, that you're trying too hard. That's the one obvious thing that makes you different from original-flavor Rarity. If you're in any doubt, be yourself."

"But—"

"BE YOURSELF. You ought to know that better than anyone!"

"I ought, darling?"

"You ought, Rarity! If somepony asks 'why', and the honest answer is 'because I'm the changeling pretending to be Rarity', don't answer at all!"

"So I should just . . . ignore them?"

"Not at all! No, no!" Pinkie made a buzzer noise and crossed her hooves back and forth rapidly in front of her chest. "Rarity is never rude. Rarity doesn't ignore ponies."

Rarity dolefully licked pepper-pickle relish from her hoof. "What do I do?" She thought better of the licking and dabbed both her hoof and her lips daintily with a napkin.

"You give your mane a flip—" Pinkie demonstrated the gesture, though instead of doing a smooth and shimmering flip, her mane only bounced frizzily "—and you smile a mysterious smile. Enigmatically. Like this." Pinkie tried, though she knew her smiles were never enigmatic. Why keep a smile a mystery? "Only do it more like she does it."

"I hope it works. When I get nervous I tend to spout explanations."

"Just remember, you know a secret, Rarity knows a secret, I know, Fluttershy knows, Fancy Pants knows—we all know your secret. So you give the smile of someone who knows the secret."

"I don't think I know that smile. I'm part of a hive mind. We all know all of the secrets."

"Oh, wow, that must be so fun! I love sharing secrets! To do it all the time with everypony must be the very best of the best!"

"But I'm not sure how to look like I know something that only a very few ponies know."

"Rarity will teach you the smile. Practice it with her. I'm sure it's the answer."

The bell over the door jangled. Princess Twilight stepped regally in. The pony behind the counter bowed, then gave her three large paper sacks, and Twilight placed some bits on the counter.

Twilight carried the sacks on either side of her shoulders with her telekinetic aura and walked over to Pinkie and Rarity's booth. "Hi, girls! How's the last practice day going?"

Rarity sat bolt upright. Long, sharp canines shot out from her upper jaw. Her horn melted away until it was short, smooth and black, and her eyes glazed over with a solid, pale blue. She planted her forehooves hard on the table. A packet of ketchup burst under one hoof and the ketchup squeezed out over the edge of a new hole in her leg. "It's the last practice day?!"

Twilight jerked her head back and flattened her ears in surprise, then relaxed and gave her head a bob and her wings a little shake-out. "Wow, Rarity, great trick. I thought you were changeling-Rarity, but obviously if you were the changeling you'd never show it. Very clever!"

Rarity looked wildly from Twilight to Pinkie. "But it can't be the last practice day! It's three days to the opening of Fashion Week! Isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, it's still three days. I meant Pinkie's time loop—er—eclair—doughnut—er—never mind. But in any case, Rarity, you have nothing to worry about. Your changeling disguise will definitely keep ponies guessing! I didn't know you were so skilled at illusions."

Rarity began to protest, but Pinkie reached across the table and stuck an oat-nugget in onion sauce in her mouth. Pinkie stage-whispered, through a demonstrative, toothy grin, "Smile! Enigmatic smile!"

The changeling chewed and swallowed, and her smile quavered, but eventually got to enigmatic. She made a move to smooth her mane, but her ketchup-stained hoof found only her jagged, dark fin.

Twilight gave her a bright smile back and said, "Anyway, I just dropped in to pick up my usual order of seventeen Princess Meals." She rummaged through the paper sacks with her magic and dumped a pile of cellophane-wrapped action figures on the table. "Here are the toys, Pinkie."

Pinkie shoved the toys into her mane. The cellophane wrappers crinkled. She pushed down on her curls. "Ooh, lumpy."

Twilight smiled contentedly. "Well, 'bye girls. Gonna take these meals back to the library to eat while they're still hot."

"'Bye Twilight! Thanks for the toys!"

The bell jingled as the door closed behind Twilight. There followed a moment of quiet at the table.

The changeling developed a pearlescent aura, which coalesced into the appearance of Rarity's coat; her iridescent white horn swirled into shape, her irises were again a deep blue, and she blushed pink. "Did I just . . . fool Princess Twilight?"

Pinkie's whoop of victory rattled the float glasses in their rack behind the counter.





After supper, Pinkie sat in the street with her damp mane frizzing up like the foam on a strawberry ice cream soda. She looked down at the puddle rippling just over the tops of her hooves and heaved a little sigh.

Somepony sloshed along the street. It was Minuette. "Good evening, Pinkie. Why so discouraged?"

Pinkie looked up from under her sodden mane. "Oh, I'm not discouraged," she said. "I'm just sitting in the rain."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Would you like a free toothbrush?"

"Thank you, Minuette." Pinkie accepted the toothbrush and stuck it in her mane. Minuette gave herself a shake from nose to tail and hopped over a puddle. Slowly the sound of her sploshing hoofbeats faded.

Pinkie looked over her shoulder; the buildings behind her could barely be seen in the veil of rain. Finally she heard the sound she was waiting for: wagon wheels rolling through the packed mud with water running around and behind them.

Baked Beans trotted past Pinkie. She quivered but didn't stand up nor lean away, and the wagon wheels sheeted dirty water all over her side. "Whoa!" said Biscuit, and Baked Beans nearly sat down as he stopped and gave an apologetic nod sideways to Pinkie. Biscuit said, "Sorry, Ms. Pie. Almost didn't see you there."

"That's all right, boys!" said Pinkie.

Biscuit tipped his waterlogged hat and clicked his tongue to Baked Beans, and the wagon jolted forward.

Pinkie, dripping mud, walked through the steadily falling droplets to Sugarcube Corner. She shook herself just before going inside, and wiped her hooves on the mat. She headed for the stairs to her room. Mrs. Cake caught up to her and said, "Pinkie, would you like a—"

"I'd love a cheddar muffin while they're still hot, thank you!" said Pinkie. Mrs. Cake hoofed her the muffin on a napkin. Pinkie ate it, catching the crumbs carefully and licking them up. "Mmm!"

She wiped her mouth with the napkin, went upstairs, and drew a hot bath. "Aah," she said as she sank into it. "Perfect. Baths are better when there's a lot to clean off."

Pinkie had invited Cheese Sandwich over to play checkers. He and Boneless Two arrived with a wedge of crumbly, white, pungent cheese on a board. Pinkie didn't even bother to ask what kind it was. She merely did her share of devouring it with sesame seed crackers.

Gradually the rain stopped. Unseen pegasi herded the clouds away. Pinkie, Cheese Sandwich, the rubber chickens (for Boneless Two was visiting Boneless the First), and Gummy sat on the balcony at Sugarcube Corner and watched the stars twinkling at their nightly party in the sky.

Pinkie brushed her teeth with her old toothbrush. She placed Gummy in his tank for the night. Tears came into her eyes. She rummaged in the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a swirly lollipop, which she propped against her lamp. If it was true about the quilt and the alligator, she would see the lollipop first thing when she opened her eyes. Pinkie had always supposed that the best day ever could only happen once. But she had lived the best day ever four hundred and sixty two times, and it was the best day ever, each time. She lay down under her magical quilt, closed her eyes and said, "This day has been just the best."

The next morning, Pinkie woke up.

The swirly lollipop was on the bedside table.

It was tomorrow.

This was a different today. This was the today when Pinkie Pie and Cheese would hold the party at the Elks Club Lodge. She had to get in a little more anticipation over that, quick, before it arrived, because it was coming this very night.

She remembered that Fluttershy had received the smashed strawberry jelly bean the day before, and today Pinkie would hear how the ants had enjoyed it.

She told herself all these wonderful things firmly, but even so a little sob escaped her. Pinkie got up, pulled her mane into a bandanna, and went downstairs. She felt a jelly bean crush under her hoof, and she let out a trembling gasp, but when she lifted her hoof she could smell and see that this was a grape jelly bean. Not the same at all. Delicious, though. Pinkie told herself to cheer up. After all, since it was tomorrow, she had given Cinnamon Caramel Streusel Crunch Swirl her replacement order the day before, and now she, Pinkie Pie, could eat the day-old sponge cake for breakfast.

She sat in the kitchen and let out a little sigh as she forked up the sponge cake.

After breakfast she climbed the stairs again and went to her washstand. Pinkie felt as if a tear might fall from her eye, but it never quite happened. A beam of sunlight came through the window and glowed golden on the coral-colored handle and fresh, neatly trimmed bristles of the new toothbrush.

She stared, and drew a breath of wonder at the beauty of the toothbrush. A new toothbrush! Never before used! She would have so many adventures with her new toothbrush. And who knew what else could happen on a day that began with a glimmering new toothbrush? Pinkie took one bound across the room to the alligator tank, picked Gummy up in her forehooves and spun him above her head. "Gummy, it's all right! Turns out it's still the best day ever!"



The End