From the outside, Sugarcube’s and its attached bakery appeared to be doing a roaring business. In fact, both were closed. It was Pinkie Pie’s seventeenth birthday, and Mr. and Mrs. Cake had closed early so that Pinkie could celebrate with her friends, which, practically speaking, involved most of Canterlot High School and a good part of the town as well.
Cheese had set up his accordion and music stand in Sugarcube’s itself, on a raised platform which normally held several tables, but which was sometimes cleared for performers on Friday coffeehouse nights. Pinkie Pie raced back and forth between the kitchen, the bakery, and the coffeehouse, carrying platter after platter of cupcakes. She moved so quickly that she was a blur of pink curly hair, ruffled apron, and blue boots, here now and gone a second later, leaving a delicious sugary fragrance behind her. Applejack tried to step in and help, but Pinkie had already burst through the kitchen’s swinging doors several times in each direction before she managed to grab her.
“Slow down there, Pinkie! Let me take over for a while. Seems a pity for you to do all the work, since it’s your party and all.” She relieved Pinkie of two of the platters of cupcakes, which left Pinkie with three: one in each hand and the third on a tray slung around her neck and shoulders.
“I can have fun while I’m giving out cupcakes, silly!” burbled Pinkie. “Giving away cupcakes is fun! Plus I baked them all myself, so watching people smile when they try them is double extra super fun!”
“You baked ‘em all, too? When’d you get up? Six am?”
“Four thirty, actually, but I wasn’t a bit sleepy anyhow. I was up late, thinking about new cupcake flavors and more activities for the Cake Festival, and then I started redecorating my room, but I thought it was better the way it was and I put it all back like it was before, and then I went downstairs to the kitchen and started baking, but don’t worry, three hours of sleep was plenty. Hiya, Mr. Cake! Thanks for letting us have the space for my party!”
Mr. Cake smiled, although he kept one eye on his daughter Pumpkin, who was deep in the throes of a sugar high. “We were glad to do it, Pinkie. You’re such a big help. Have you tried some of the new cupcakes she’s come up with?” he said, turning to Applejack. “We’re trying them out in the shop and they are selling like crazy, and NO NO NO Pumpkin, we do not grab cupcakes without asking Daddy! Don’t—”
But Mr. Cake was already too late; Pumpkin had shoved the entire cupcake into her mouth whole.
“She’s already had four,” he said in despair. “Wait for Daddy, Pumpkin!” he cried, as he zoomed off after her.
“Excuse me, miss,” someone behind Pinkie’s back said, in a deep, Southern-tinged accent, “but did I hear you say you came up with new cupcake flavors yourself?”
Pinkie turned, still balancing her three trays. The owner of the voice proved to be a tall man with dark hair. He was impeccably dressed, and exuded charm and expensive aftershave.
“Yeppers!” said Pinkie. “I’m Pinkie Pie, and this is Applejack, and I don’t remember you, so you must have come with somebody, but it’s my birthday and welcome to my party!
“Filthy Rich,” he said, and smiled. The veneers on his teeth glinted. “Diamond Tiara’s father. I’d offer to shake hands, but . . .” He glanced at the trays Pinkie was carrying.
“Oh, no problem,” said Pinkie, and somehow managed to free her right hand while still balancing her cupcake trays. Mr. Rich seemed taken aback for a moment, and then smiled again, and shook Pinkie’s hand.
“My little girl raves about your cupcakes, Miss Pie. And so many different kinds! Now, which would that one be?”
“Those are cotton candy funfetti surprise, and those are chocolate chip cookie dough, and those are lemon meringue, and those are strawberry cream.”
“Well, they look scrumptious, young lady. Do you mind if I try one?”
“Noperooni!” said Pinkie. “That’s what they’re for!”
Filthy Rich picked up a cupcake, peeled off the paper, and took a careful bite. Instantly, his face was suffused with pure bliss. After a moment, he said, “Now I see exactly what my Diamond has been telling me. Why, these are almost inimitable, Miss Pie. I’ll just take this and wrap it up for later. And a very happy birthday to you.” He carefully wrapped half of his cupcake in a paper napkin, nodded to Pinkie, and turned away.
Applejack watched Mr. Rich thread his way back through the crowd. “Now that sure is funny.”
“What’s funny?” said Cheese, popping up behind her. “I hope you’re talking about me. Oh, man, those look great,” he added, grabbing three cupcakes and immediately starting to eat one.
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” said Applejack.
“Mmphm?”
“You’re eating one and you’ve got one for –well, two for later!”
“Only one now, actually,” said Cheese, unwrapping the second. “What’s your point? --Thanks!” he added to a fellow partygoer who had just gone by, saying, “Nice job!”
“Filthy Rich just ate half a cupcake and saved the rest. That’s funny peculiar,” said Applejack, “not funny hah-hah.”
“Oh, lighten up, AJ,” said Rainbow Dash, joining them and scooping up a cupcake. “Maybe he’s just obsessive about his weight. Hey, happy birthday, Pinkie! Let’s stash those somewhere so you can get your party thing on!”
Cheese and Rainbow Dash each took a tray, and together they moved over to a table and placed the cupcakes down. Cheese’s third cupcake was long gone, and he’d already acquired another.
“Where do you put all that?” said Applejack, gesturing at Cheese’s skinny frame.
“I wanted to try them all,” he said, with an attempt at dignity, “and I’ve only got fifteen minutes before I play the next set.”
“Fifteen minutes?” squeaked Pinkie. “Then we’d better get in our dancing now!”
She grabbed Cheese’s hand and yanked him into the coffeehouse. A minute or two later, loud stomps and crashes, whooping, and applause indicated that Pinkie and Cheese had made some progress in their swing dance practice and were now taking it public.
Rarity and Fluttershy came out of the coffeehouse and joined Applejack and Rainbow Dash.
“Pinkie Pie certainly is exuberant today,” said Rarity. “I can’t understand dancing being quite so,” she shuddered, “vigorous.”
“I’d call it hyper,” said Rainbow Dash, “and I mean hyper even for Pinkie. At least she’s getting some exercise.”
Fluttershy winced at the crashing noises from the other room. “Goodness,” she said, “I do hope no one gets hurt.”
Dash shrugged. “ You know Pinkie,” she said. “I’ve seen her do some pretty wild stuff and not get hurt. Come on, I want to get some non-cupcake food before I eat any more cupcakes.” She moved towards another table and began to pile her plate high.
“Doesn’t it seem . . . crowded to you?” gasped Fluttershy, trying to squeeze in behind Dash. Applejack gestured for her to go ahead, so that Fluttershy was protected between her two friends.
“Crowded, perhaps, but such a success!” said Rarity, selecting a few perfect strawberries. “Most of the school has stopped by, influential members of the community . . . is it true that Mr. Rich is here?”
“He sure was,” said Applejack. “He was sweet-talking Pinkie something fierce about those cupcakes."
“And the Mayor’s here!” said Fluttershy. “I was so assertive. I went right up to her and I talked to her about all those bunnies in the park and what we have to do about them. Did you know that . . . .”
“We do,” Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash chorused, and they stepped away from the table to allow other guests to get to the food. They found a slightly quieter place to stand, close to the bakery counter, where they could see the whole room.
“I see that ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’ is here,” said Rarity, the air quotes clearly audible in her tone of voice, and sniffed. Trixie was indeed at the party, and while she was still wearing as many stars as a circus poster, she seemed to be talking earnestly to a very large boy in a perfectly normal way.
Rainbow Dash groaned, her mouth full of food, and then swallowed. “Tell me about it,” she moaned. “She grabbed me earlier, and she would not shut up about comic books. I grabbed poor old Bulk there, shoved him in front of me, and escaped while I still could.”
“Oh, poor cousin Snowflake,” said Fluttershy. “But at least Trixie’s interested in something other than herself--I mean, her magic act. That’s got to be a good thing, right?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Rainbow Dash replied, frowning. No one heard the bakery doorbell tinkle over all the talking and the noise from the next room.
“I think it speaks very well of Pinkie that so many people are here to celebrate her birthday,” said Rarity, as she sipped a glass of sparkling water. “It seems that nearly everyone who is anyone is here.”
“Speak of the devil,” muttered Applejack, and they followed her gaze to where Sunset Shimmer stood, just inside the shop door. Slowly, the other Canterlot High students stopped talking and turned to look at the new arrival, and the adults followed their lead.
Sunset Shimmer lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?” she asked, with something that wasn’t quite a smile. “May I help you?”
All at once, everybody decided that they were much more interested in the conversations they’d been having before Sunset entered the bakery. She strode towards the group at the counter, who instinctively took a slight step back. Applejack was the first to speak.
“Well, uh, Sunset, uh—guess Pinkie must’ve asked you. Well, that’s just dandy.”
“We had no idea you’d come to a party,” Fluttershy whispered.
“I didn’t, either,” said Sunset Shimmer. “In fact, I had no intention of coming. I haven’t been to a party since the Fall Formal last year, and you can see for yourselves how popular I am. I actively planned not to come, and yet here I am, along with most of Canterlot High and a large cross-section of the entire community, and I find that very interesting.”
“Hey,” snapped Rainbow Dash, “what’s so strange about coming to one of Pinkie’s parties? They’re popular!”
“This popular?”
Suddenly, it did seem a little bit strange. It was Saturday night, and surely a lot of people had other things they wanted to do, like dates and cooler parties, and yet here they were, jammed into Sugarcube’s and probably breaking the fire code, only the Fire Chief was also here and was having such a good time that he didn’t seem to care. Trixie, who didn’t like Pinkie, the Mayor, and Filthy Rich had all turned up for a teenager’s birthday party. The stomping sounds from the other room stopped, and a loud round of applause and cheers suggested that Pinkie and Cheese had finished dancing.
“And I will bet anything,” continued Sunset, “that Pinkie’s last birthday didn’t have half as many people at it. I wasn’t there. And that was her sixteenth, and you’d think it would have been more important. What I want to know is, what changed?”
Pinkie’s friends thought for a minute. “The cupcakes?” suggested Applejack.
“The cupcakes are pretty radical,” agreed Rainbow Dash, “or maybe people at school just aren’t scared of you anymore and don’t care what you think.”
Sunset snorted and seemed about to say something, but Pinkie burst into the bakery, again dragging Cheese by the hand. On seeing Sunset, they skidded to a stop with a sound like the metallic squealing of brakes. They stared at her for a long moment, and then Pinkie sprang into Sunset’s arms with a happy cry and a burst of confetti, so that the older girl was forced to catch her. “Whee! You did your friendship homework after all! I’m, like, so proud of you!”
“Um, yes,” said Sunset, carefully placing Pinkie back on the ground. She narrowed her eyes and glanced back and forth, from Pinkie to Cheese, from Cheese to Pinkie, until Cheese lowered his arm and started juggling to break up the awkwardness.
“Have you tried one of the cotton candy funfetti surprise cupcakes?” said Pinkie, grabbing one seemingly from nowhere. “They’re filled with noms!” She held the cupcake right in front of Sunset’s face, smiling and batting her eyes, until Sunset was forced to take it. She ate the pink cupcake and seemed to be enjoying it, although her eyes moved from the confetti on the floor, to Cheese’s juggling, back to Pinkie, and to the universally cheerful guests, as though she were calculating something.
“We were just remarking on the success of your party, Pinkie,” said Rarity. “It seems that everybody is here.”
Pinkie looked down. “Not exactly everybody,” she murmured, scraping the toe of her boot on the floor. “Mom and Dad and my little sisters couldn’t get a ride, so they couldn’t be here. And Maud’s going to graduate school and it’s really, really, really far away. And I miss them all. It feels weird not having them here on my birthday, you know what I mean?”
“Not really,” said Cheese. Everyone stared at him. “Sorry,” he added, “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. I just never think about it.”
“Why, don’t you ever have your family together for birthdays?” asked Applejack.
Cheese looked up at the ceiling and knitted his brows, trying to remember. “Not for a while,” he said. “Maybe four—no, probably more like six or seven years. It’s no big deal,” he explained, on seeing Pinkie and Applejack’s horrified expressions. “Like I said, I never think about it anymore. But I can see it’s a big deal for Pinkie. I hope it hasn’t ruined your birthday or anything.”
“Ruined!” said Pinkie, literally bouncing back up with a wide smile. “I know I need to stay here, and the Cakes are amazingly nice, and it’s my birthday, and I’ve got the bestest friends, and my family sent cards and nice presents. PLUS I got a party cannon this year, which is like totally the super-duperiest best present ever.”
“Well,” said Cheese, turning pink, “it’s not as though I made it all by myself. You know Applejack lent her barn . . .”
“And my conscience kicks me for it every day,” muttered Applejack.
“And Big Mac helped with the mechanics, and of course Trixie got me some of the materials.”
“Ooo, that’s right! Hey, there she is!” exclaimed Pinkie, and waved at Trixie, who was on the opposite side of the room. “HEY, TRIXIE! THANKS FOR THE BLACK POWDER AND THE FUSE WIRE! THEY’RE GONNA BE SUPER FUN TO PLAY WITH!”
Everyone in the bakery moved slightly away from both Pinkie and Trixie, who stood frozen where she was with a nervous grin.
“Welp,” said Cheese, glancing at his watch, “I think that’s my cue to go back to playing now.”
Cheese went back to the coffeehouse, and Applejack convinced Pinkie to allow her to keep the tables filled so she could enjoy her birthday, but even then, Pinkie wouldn’t stop working. She kept blowing up balloons, which floated gently to the ceiling, although there was no helium tank in sight. She organized a game of Pin The Tail On The Pony and convinced the Mayor to join in. Even Mr. Doodle made an appearance—to everyone’s surprise—apparently dragged to the party by Mrs. Matilda, who seemed to be his girlfriend now—to absolutely no one’s surprise. And all the time, Sunset Shimmer scrutinized the partygoers, Cheese, and Pinkie, as though she could see things that they couldn’t: immense cakes, vats of punch, and brilliant, garish colors, all punctuated with the polka music Cheese had shifted into for his second set.
At last, Cheese finished playing and began packing up. The crowd began to chatter excitedly. Mrs. Cake had just disappeared into the kitchen, and they guessed that she had gone to put the finishing touches on Pinkie’s birthday cake. It took some time for Applejack to find Pinkie and get her to drop what she was doing and come into the coffeehouse to blow out the candles.
Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Rarity stood near Cheese as he sorted through music and whistled. All at once, a wailing tune issued from his back pocket—something that did not sound at all like polka. He froze, and then reached back and extracted his phone as though it might contain something explosive.
“Hello?” he said. “No, yeah, sorry I wasn’t home. It’s not that late. What time is it where you are? – Are you kidding me? You’re up at two-thirty in the morning for this? What? No, I’m not at a party.”
Someone chose that moment to blow a noisemaker and start a chant of “Let’s hear it for the birthday girl! PIN-KIE PIE! PIN-KIE PIE!”
“Well, all right, it is a party,” admitted Cheese, “but I’m not throwing it. I’m – just playing at it. Like a job. – Well, I’m sorry, you never clarified that for me. I assumed you’d want me to have a job.” He slumped as whoever it was on the other end of the line went on, and on, and on. “Yes. – Yes.—I’ll be there in an hour,” he said, glancing around at the activity behind him. “No, not twenty minutes, I can’t get back in twenty minutes!—Yes, I’m aware that I have an eight o’clock curfew, but just—forty minutes?—Half an hour? – Fine,” he snapped. “Twenty minutes. I look forward to it.” He powered down the phone and muttered, “Twenty minutes. Guys, I have got to go. Right now.”
“Seriously?” said Rainbow Dash.
“Seriously,” Cheese said, savagely jamming sheets of music into his bags with a grim expression on his face. “When she says twenty minutes, she means twenty minutes. It’ll be a miracle if I get there.”
“I’ll give you a ride home,” said Fluttershy.
“Would you? You’re a lifesaver, Fluttershy,” said Cheese. Fluttershy disappeared out the door to get her car.
Rarity removed the sheets of music Cheese was crushing in his hand. “You’re getting those all creased,” she said. ‘Rainbow Dash and I will finish packing your things. You should go and say goodbye to Pinkie and wish her a happy birthday.”
“Uh, sure, whatever,” agreed Rainbow Dash. “You go do that.”
Cheese disappeared into the crowd while Rainbow Dash and Rarity quickly packed. “It’s no good,” he said as he returned, shaking his head. “She’s too distracted, and too many people want to talk to her. I can’t even get her attention.”
Fluttershy peeked her head around the door. “I’m ready when you’re ready, Cheese, but there’s no rush. Ooo, look, there’s the cake!”
“It’s beautiful,” Rarity sighed. “Mrs. Cake did such a lovely job.”
Cheese anxiously glanced at his watch a few more times. “I have to go. I’ll probably be late as it is and catch hell for it. Tell her I said goodbye, ok?”
Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash began to carry the music stand and bags of music out to the car, but Cheese lingered in the doorway as long as he dared. Pinkie was pushed towards the cake, laughing, as all the candles were lit up. Finally, Cheese sighed, shrugged, picked up his accordion, and walked out.
Pinkie Pie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out every single candle. Then she glanced towards the doorway and smiled.
But Cheese was already gone.