“I’m sorry,” Redheart says, as she looks over a patient, “Pinkie Pie isn’t with us any more.”
I’m fairly sure that anybody less calm than me would have had a heart-attack.
“She—she died? What happened?” The first thought that strikes me is that maybe she was the one who was pregnant with the cake. “Did she die in childbirth?”
She drops her clipboard. “What? No! I meant that she came in and went off to the hospital after I told her I wasn’t a midwife! Said a friend of hers was pregnant with one of the Cakes or something. Poor girl, whoever she is. I can’t believe Mr. Cake would do s—” Her eyes widen, and she stares at me. “He impregnated Pinkie Pie?”
I really should make assumptions with more care. “No, no, no. It’s me. I mean, uh.” I don’t seem to be assuaging her. “Look, it’s a long story. Not a word of this to anypony, alright?”
She nods in shock. Not the worst thing I’ve bucked up.
As I begin to canter away, I try not to think of what would happen if she did talk.
Celestia would probably make me retake Magical Contraception 101; the thought makes me shudder. Back then, of course, it made me feel special: apparently most foals in Magic Kindergarten don’t even get to take that class.
I reach the pink hospital in record time, and rush to the doors; there’s a distinct lack of people.
Wait, the pink hospital?
I pat the wall, and my purple hoof comes away covered in pink.
Oh, dear sweet Celestia. What has she done now? I put my hoof against my horn.
“Hey, Twi! Ooh, you dyed your horn pink? Is it for me?”
I turn around.
“Pinkie,” I groan, “what in Equestria did you do?”
“Well, I saw the hospital thingy and it was all white and not-pretty, so I added some Pinkie into it! Well, technically I didn’t put any Pinkie into it, I put the color pink into it which isn’t me, because if it was my room would be myself and then I’d be sleeping inside myself which would be kinda weird—”
“Look,” I say, “I’m not pregnant with your cakes.”
“There’s no use denying it, Twi!” she said, shaking her head rapidly. “Acceptance is the first step.”
I put my hooves on her shoulders. “I’m breaking up with—”
Her eyelids widen, and her mouth opens; the look compels me to offer her solace.
“Look, Pinkie—”
“Oh, dear, sweet, Celestia!” She backed off, hugging herself tightly. “This is a disaster! This is terrible! This is super-duper bad!”
“It’s not that bad, Pinkie, we can still—”
“Yes, Twi! That’s a great idea!”
I allow myself to have a deep sigh of relief.
“I’ll go get some sugar! You just wait here!”
And then she bounds off.
I look down and then up at the retreating figure.
And then I just sit there and have the deepest sigh I’ve had in a long, long time.