It isn't easy being Pinkie.
Especially when you have a secret trying to explode out of you with every beat of your heart! Here I was on the second floor of Twilight's castle, the story with the bedrooms, in a toy chest while Twilight gave us a tour the room she'd decorated with posters and memorabilia from when Shining Armor had been a colt.
When I took off the plastic helmet I had found in the toy chest, I sat on something hard and squeaked. Twilight looked at me and I showed her a doll—an action figure, considering Shining had been a colt. "What's this?"
Twilight smiled. "This is Brutus Force. Mom said Shining Armor used to carry him around like his baby!"
Cadence, I thought. Baby. "Yeah!" I began chuckling weakly, working hard to hold in what I was bursting to say. "R—Really cute!"
I was about to explode into pink bits; shudders rattled through me, making it hard to hear what the others said. I even agreed with an "uh-huh" when everypony else agreed to something I hadn't heard.
I couldn't focus until Rainbow Dash said, "Watching somepony else be surprised with something is almost better than being the one who's getting the surprise!"
And I could surprise everybody…if…I…no, no. But...if somepony gave me permission, though, that'd be okay, right? "But... eh... what if the surprise is something so incredibly exciting…"
No, no…
I. Can. Do. This.
Rarity asked, "What's exciting?"
I had rolled out of the toy chest and lay on my back in the middle of the room. That Rarity might agree I should tell the secret was so unlikely, she had to have heard only my last two words. Pinkie Power reasserted itself, redirecting the energy of the secret trying to pop out. I stood and said, "Strawberry Jam Teahouse just received a delivery of Mr. Cake's version of those scones you gave him!"
"From Cinnamon Chai's? You're a darling, Pinkie. I must stop there for breakfast!"
I escaped the castle into the bright morning sun without slipping. Speaking of tea, I knew how a tea kettle felt on high heat, whistling, wanting to burst. As I trotted into town, skirting the herds of pastel ponies but not the crackly fall leaves, I could only think of the uproar and cheer that would fill the hearts of all the ponies I told the news.
Thinking that made it worse! My trot became a canter and soon a gallop as I ran for Sugarcube Corner. I had to escape the inquiring gaze of every pony.
It was top secret! Mrs. Cake had said so.
Once inside, I melted all over the staircase. Isolated, I could keep any secret. The best-est place I could do that was shut in my room.
I glanced up. Mr. Cake stood in the doorway to the restaurant. "Oh, good, you're back! Mrs. Cake needs my help, but these deliveries can't wait! I can't thank you enough for agreeing to be my backup delivery pony, Pinkie!"
"I did?"
My head felt heavy. Certainly my curls were deflating and turning to rock. I mused about when I'd agreed. I remembered telling him I'd do it. Now, suddenly I also remembered saying I wouldn't change my mind even if I had "a gigantic, emotionally exhausting surprise that would make it super hard to be around other ponies." How prescient of me, or was that ironic? And now I remembered I'd Pinkie Promised. Breaking a Pinkie Promise was the best way to lose a friend, or an employer who was also your landlord.
Duty called!
I shrugged into the cold metal harness of the delivery wagon and pulled it toward the first address on the list. How could there be so many ponies outside today? Didn't they have a party, work, or breakfast to attend? I saw Muffin's friend Time Turner, and Mellon Roll, and— well, I knew everypony and everypony knew me.
And if even one were to ask me anything—
Best not be seen.
I snuck through town, dashing behind trees and taking alley ways, finding hidey-holes where I could wait, but it took too much time! The cakes and breads and pies would be stale by the time I delivered them next week!
Okay. I could do this. Deep breaths. Don't make eye contact. Just. Do. Your. Deliveries. My hooves clattered on cobblestones; the springs of the van squeaked.
A different squeak from Sweetie Belle alerted me to a hostile CMC escort. Apple Bloom said, "Hi ya, Pinkie Pie!"
Sweetie asked, "Heard any good gossip today?"
How did they know!? I began to vibrate as my kettle started to boil.
Scootaloo said, "We're bored. Please say you have some interesting news."
I screamed, "Nope!" and dashed to avoid a second question, telling myself that if I could just redirect my need to tell the secret—the way I had when I told Rarity about the teahouse instead of telling the secret—it might work again.
I barely avoided crashing into Fluttershy, who then flew beside me to tell me that Twilight had asked me to make a snack plate to help her preparations. But when Fluttershy added, "Shining Armor's favorite snack is baby carrots," I had no choice but to hyper-hoof it. The kettle whistled so hard, one little disturbance might crack it; I'd be yelling the secret all over town.
Hyper-hoof'n is a state of mind, something Twilight had once called a "zen-thing." Hyper-hoof'n pushed the thoughts from my head, and as Applejack would say, "Boy-howdy were there a lot in there." All I had to do was concentrate; everypony got slower, making my trot super fast in comparison, giving me more time to get things done.
Of course, it made steering and stopping the delivery van more difficult—more reason to concentrate and less space for idle thoughts about telling pernicious little secrets.
No, Pinkie! Concentrate!
The ponies around me moved as if in a dream, swimming through air. Minty green Lyra at a canter hovered in the air, all hooves airborne as I trotted on by.
Which meant, of course, they couldn't stop me to ask questions!
I swerved to avoid a house I hadn't seen in my way. Had I hit it, I'd have left nothing but splinters holding up the hay roof. As it was, I ended up on Berry Punch's roof, wagon and all. That was okay. The roof was strong, she was my third delivery, and she had obviously been partying early; she didn't even look up when she lifted her cake from the doorstep then staggered back inside.
The half-day of deliveries took the better part of a Ponyville hour, mostly because I had to plan straight-line routes and stop to actually deliver a package (assuring nopony saw me). My most creative delivery required a crossbow and a clothesline, an idea I got from one of Spike's comic books, though come to think of it, I bet it messed up one of Rarity's walls.
Exhausted at the end of my deliveries, I was barely strolling when I came to the Strawberry Jam Teahouse. I'd told Rarity to go there. Which made me remember why I told her. Which reminded me that Cadance was going to have a baby. Which was top secret. Between one heart-beat and the next, I wound up again. It was such great news! I so super needed to tell somepony.
And there, through a window, I saw her sitting at a cafe table in the teahouse—a sunhat decked with red ribbons on her head, a gold gilt china tea cup in her magic, and a half-dozen scones in her basket. Ivy and ferns festooned the interior courtyard, set with dainty wrought iron chairs and tables.
The cranberry walnut scones looked delish. If I shared the story with Rarity, that'd be okay, right? It would become our secret both. Right?
Riiiight?
I unhitched, took off my hyper-hoof'n helmet, and entered. A trip bell tinkled. Rarity looked up. I took the chair across her at her table so quickly I must have been a blur. A second cup of tea steamed before me as if she were expecting me. Rarity smiled and sipped the red liquid in her cup; a darjeeling from the smell.
I craned my head close and breathed, "Cadance is going to have a baby."
Rarity gasped, spraying tea. She choked and coughed. Tea spilt everywhere, but she caught the drops in her magic and returned them to the cup that clinked in its saucer. Her blue eyes were intently on me as her jaw dropped. She stood, a smile growing on her lips as she did that excited little dance she sometimes did.
"You shouldn't have told me this," she said, then squealed and did the dance again. A whisper: "A line of royal baby clothes, I can just see it!" Serious, then in a low voice: "If this gets out you are going to feel guilty forever about ruining the surprise for Twilight. That's who they're planning to surprise? Has to be. But I won't tell a soul."
Unfortunately, there was a reason there was a second cup of tea and so many piping hot scones. I heard a trademark squeak, then saw a flash of white, pink, and purple. The trip bell rang.
"Was that Sweetie Belle?"
"Oh, dear me. She must've overheard."
Despite an adrenaline surge, exhaustion stuck me like a boulder. Hypoglycemic from all my hyper-hoof'n, I felt myself melting back into the chair until I remembered the dozen scones. Target acquired, I apologized before expanded my throat and gulping the pile down in one swallow.
I had to catch Rarity's sister.
Rarity followed me out the door. The scones' crystallized sugar crust began to hit my bloodstream as we rushed about, but the filly had disappeared. After we split up, I saw Scootaloo on her scooter, helmet and goggles on, with an unusually satisfied expression. She saw me and raced away, but not before I glimpsed a red bow and a red tail disappear around a storefront in the opposite direction. Like a drop of the wrong food coloring in a bottle of milk, this looked worse and worse.
And across the street, Muffin bubbled excitedly and fluttered in the air before her colt-friend Time Turner. I could read what looked like a few Candances on her lips as Time Turner faced me and rubbed his chin with a hoof, thinking.
Oh, not good. Not good at all. I felt my body coming to a boil, the type of thing where I jitter in place, hooves virtually hovering above the cobblestone road. I had to do something... anything.