"Yaaaaa-hoooooooo!"
"Gwah!"
"Bwah?!"
"ARGH!"
"Oh, mother-bucker, not again!"
Congratulations, you are now exactly as confused as the ponies that Pinkie may or may not have run over as she rode her cart, barreling down main-street.
If Twilight Sparkle were here she would have been able to tell you that, assuming negligible friction because how else was Pinkie lugging all this around otherwise, the cart had descended about 100 feet since Sweet Apple Acres. Assuming that gravity was a constant about equal to earth's at around 32 feet per second per second this meant that, by the time she had reached the flat main street, Pinkie Pie was travelling at about fifty miles per hour on a cart that weighed slightly more than a large elephant but slightly less than a morbidly obese elephant.
This gave her the equivalent force of about, Twilight Sparkle would have hypothetically told you, a particularly powerful tornado. She could not tell you this, however, as she was currently knocking back her eighteenth cup of coffee at Pony Joe's cramming for her third doctorate. That didn't leave her with much time to do such trivial mathematics when the answer should have been immediate to any pony with common sense;
Pinkie was, for all intents and purposes, an unstoppable force of nature. You should really, really get out of her way.
As always the young pink mare was completely oblivious to the panic and chaos she was wreaking. She was having too much fun!
N'aww! That pony is screaming in joy too! N'aww, is that her baby? What a cute baby! Wait a second- They aren't getting away! Move baby, move! Pinkie stared in horror at the toddler which had seemed to stumble into her cart's path.
"Stop!" Pinkie ordered the cart. It screeched in protest, kicking up dust all they way. When the air had cleared Pinkie was holding the baby by the scruff, looking very annoyed at the mother, the cart at a standstill inches away.
"You oughta be more careful, lady! Somepony could get hurt!" Pinkie shook her head sadly, in disappointment at the obviously inattentive mother.
Sheesh, some ponies can be so careless!
Pinkie bounced back onto the cart, grabbing the reins as she perched carefully on top of the shifting heap.
"Hya! Mush! Scram! Skedaddle!" Pinkie cried, cracking the reins.
With that the cart zoomed back off at its earlier neck breaking speed, onwards to Sugar Cube Corner.
"Hrmm..."
"Is something wrong, cinnamon scroll?"
"Oh, no, no honey bun, everythings fine!"
"Oh, okay then," Mr Cakes stammered, "It just sounded like-"
"Ehhh-Hrmmmmmm..."
"-You had something on your mind." He finished lamely, staring at his not-at-all-subtle wife.
Oh, dear, she mused, I love you dearly, I really do, but if I had to be any more blunt I would probably need something big and heavy... Like a mallet.
"Business has been slow, hasn't it, dear?"
"Oh, now, that can't be all that's on your mind, cherry-pie! Now, what's the real problem?" He cooed, wrapping a lanky leg around his wife's shoulders.
He is learning, then! She smiled a small, private smile.
"Well, whenever business gets slow, I just feel the store feels so empty with just us two around, peach-creme." Mrs Cake rested her chin in a hoof, then added another sigh in for good measure.
Her dear husband just looked on in confusion, bless his heart.
"But, sweet-pea, whatever do you mean?"
"Well, sugarcube, I've got love in my heart for more." There was silence. The air hung still with tension. Of course, it also hung with the smell of dusting sugar and freshly baked cookies, but mostly tension.
"You're cheating on me?!" he wailed.
Or, maybe he isn't...
"Who is it? It's that Caramel, fellow, isn't it! You always loved his toffees! Tell me!" He fell to his knees sobbing.
Aww... He's so cute when he's- Oh, dear...
She leaned down and planted a soft peck on her beloved not-being-cheated-on husbands forehead.
"Dear... I want foals."
"If you want foals then why are you cheating on me?!" He cried, falling to the floor crying anew.
"I'm not cheating on you, lemon-tart, now get up." She grabbed her husband by the scruff and jerked him up off the floor. He was still staring at the ground, sniffling, in embarrassment.
He really is adorable...
Tilting his head up, pressing lightly against his chin with her hoof, she met his watery eyes.
"If our foals are even half as cute as you are, butterscotch, I would be the happiest mare in Ponyville."
"But, pudding-pop, it's-" He threw his hooves over his mouth, his darting back and forth, "It's not like we've been trying!" He whispered. "Well, rather, you've been trying," he muttered. "I'm so sore... So very, very sore..."
"Well, sticky-date, maybe if you took the initiative once in a while."
"I'm not even on top anymore, though." he mumbled.
"You wouldn't stop crying, canola-oil," She gently chided.
"I-I think we might need a safe word, cupcake..." Her lanky love sighed.
"That baby won't make itself!"
"You have made that painfully clear, honey-bun" he moaned, "Very, very painfully clear."
"You keep talking like that and I'll spend a week, trying, chocolate-freckle." She chastised firmly, a tight little frown crossing her face.
His eyes darted down to some obscure part of the floor. "I would be so lucky" he moaned, barely audible, but still too loud.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Sugar-plum, I love you dearly, but sometimes-"
-CRUN-K-ASH-
"That must be it!" Pinkie cried from the cart's crows nest, which I assure you it has had all along, it just wasn't important until now.
The cart was screaming along towards a rather nondescript little shop with smoke rising from its chimney. The dead giveaway was the shiny shop window displaying the shops wares, visible through the spyglass. It helped that Pinkie happened to be downwind of the bakery and travelling at her present velocity made it rather easy to smell as much of the breeze as ponily possible.
"It's a good thing I have this eyepatch!" Pinkie said to nopony in particular, "Or else using this telescope would be a lot harder! When it comes to peripheral vision, eyepatches are the perfect periphery for Pinkie!"
Now! How do I stop this, again?
Pinkie's carefree grin melted off her face as the realization struck her.
Uhh... Huh.
"Uh-oh" she mumbled.
Sometimes, I wonder where I'm going in life, she mused, And then it just hits me.
Seconds later it wasn't just the realization that struck her.
-CRUN-K-ASH-
Mrs Cake squealed as a huge, runaway cart came crashing through the store front sending sugar-coated shrapnel flying all around her as conservation of momentum finally, finally, decided to apply itself to a situation involving Pinkie Pie.
Mr Cake simply looked calm. He had just been through the shock of his life, believing his dear wife had cheated on him. Thus, already having come down from that adrenal peak, it allowed him some brief respite: In that single instant, as his store exploded around him, he was the eye of the store.
And, in the very next instant, his eye rolled into the back of his head and he fainted, crumpling into a heap on the floor.
"Oops... My bad, I guess." A strange pink mare called from the top of the wagon of mass destruction.
"Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner." Mrs Cake mumbled.
"This is Sugarcube Corner? Oh, good, if this wasn't the right place that would be really awkward!" Pinkie yelled back. "Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie!"
Mrs Cake stared at the mare in the crows nest.
Eyepatch, Spyglass, Crows-Nest, destruction...All that's missing is- A falling collection of Teddy Bears revealed the barrel of Pinkie's Party CannonbetaTM- A cannon. Ah, a land pirate.
And, in the very next instant, Mrs Cake joined her husband in a slightly larger heap on the floor.
"Err, Miss? Miss cake-shop-owner lady? I'm really sorry for destroying everything and scaring you and your husband guy?"
N'aww, that would be so sweet- Mr Cake's eyes fluttered open. -If she weren't talking to me.
"Hello, strange pink pony." Carrot Cake murmured from the floor, addressing the pony looming over him.
She has such a caring look, he mused, If only she wasn't standing over me, staring at me like that.
"Cup? Cup Cake?" He moaned, "I think we have a customer."
"Why do we get all the weird ones, dear?" Came her shaky reply.
"Oh, that's not true" Pinkie chirped, "I'm the only pony here! Also that would mean that the Apples get all the not-weird ones, and I went there first!" She nodded knowingly.
"Oh, good," Carrot Cake sighed, "So our quaint little bakery was just destroyed for no reason by the runaway, err, thing, of a perfectly ordinary pony, then?"
"It was an accident!" Pinkie yelled, hurt, jumping back off of Mr Cake, finally allowing him to stand.
"No, it wasn't!" Cup Cake jumped to her hooves."She's a pirate! She's here for our bits, and our stallions- She'll do unspeakable things to you!"
Carrot's eyes widened in horror. "No! Only my wife is allowed to do unspeakable things to me against my will!"
Mrs Cake sighed deeply again, rubbing the bridge of her snout with a hoof.
"No!" Pinkie wailed, her rump slamming onto the floor in misery, "No! I just... I want a job!"
"Welcome to the interview, then" Mrs Cake said bitterly. "I would show you the door, but it appears as though-" She indicated where the giant, gaping hole in the wall was, "-It isn't there anymore."
"I put it back and fixed everything whilst you were asleep, though, see!" Pinkie said hopefully.
Mr and Mrs Cake finally turned to assess the damage they'd been too afraid to look at until now and found-
Nothing.
When they saw where the giant, gaping hole in the wall was before was now sparkling, clean, fixed. Even the stock was back, fresh.
"I saw, and smelled, you had just finished baking a super-yummy cake," Pinkie added helpfully, "So I decorated it and put it in the window to replace all that stuff I sort of smooshed!" She also added, looking at the floor bashfully. "I'm really, really sorry, though! Can we start over, pretending like that never happened? Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie!" She extended a hoof and gave a weak smile.
"But, er, Pink Pie... How'd you fix the wall?"
"Oh, that was easy! I couldn't find any wood, but you had plenty of flour and sugar, so I just used all the broken bits of old wall to make a big bonfire and cooked up a lot of ginger bread! It's my own special-super-secret recipe, it goes stale as soon as you finish baking it, but that makes it super-strong and it's also really, really delicious."
"And the window?" Mrs Cake asked suspiciously.
"Sugar Glass!" Pinkie beamed with pride.
"How long were we out for?" Mr Caked asked incredulously.
"Oh, you were all sleepy for over an hour! You must have been really sleepy."
Cup Cake blinked, looking at the wall. Back to Pinkie. Back to the window. Back to Pinkie. At the roof, then Pinkie.
"You did all this in an hour?" Pinkie could barely hear her, her voice sounded frail to her ears.
"Err, yeah... It takes ages to cook that much gingerbread."
Mr and Mrs Cake decided that consciousness around this mare was far, far too exhausting and embraced the brief comfort that its counterpart offered. Everything went black.
"Wow, you two mustn't have slept for ages. I err- I guess..." Pinkie glanced around the store nervously.
"I have no idea what I'm doing." She finished lamely.