//------------------------------//
// Unhappy 
// Story: Pinkie's Off Day 
// by The Engineer Pony 
//------------------------------//

Pinkie Pie opened her eyes. A dull, grey light coming in from the windows illuminated the familiar sights of her bedroom. In one corner were the pink lollipops, their intricate swirls hidden in shadow. In another stood an ice cream cone, resolutely denying access to Pinkie’s secret party-planning chamber. On the windowsill, a morosely immobile alligator sat contemplating the mysteries of life. And behind Pinkie, one of the balloons tied to the bedframe sagged as it leaked helium.

With a bound, Pinkie launched herself out of bed and onto the floor. She immediately began hopping around the room as she prepared for her day. She snagged a donut from a nearby hidden stash and swallowed it in a single gulp. Then she zipped over to her closet and picked out an outfit for her not to wear that day. Lastly, she pulled a balloon out of her mane, inflated it with a single, mighty breath, and swapped it for the sinking balloon on her bedpost.

These vital tasks complete, Pinkie paused to greet her favorite toothless pet alligator. Gummy responded to her cheerful “Good morning!” with an intently vacant look out the window. Curious, Pinkie turned her own gaze to follow that of her pet.

Outside, Ponyville lay quiet in the cool stillness of dawn. Not a pony stirred on the streets below; not a flicker of light could be seen through the windows of nearby buildings. The brilliance of Celestia’s sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. Only a weak, diffuse glow penetrated the veil to wash Ponyville in the colorless rays of a dreary morning.

Pinkie blinked slowly a couple of times, enraptured with the scene before her. Then, with a quick shiver, she pried herself away from the window and hopped toward the staircase to begin another fun, exciting day.

It would not do to dwell on the lackluster image of a lifeless morning.





Knead, press, roll, cut. Knead, press, roll, cut.

Pinkie stood in the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner, diligently baking cookies to sell throughout the rest of the day. She reached across the sea of flour that covered the table in front of her to extract another glob of dough from a bowl on the other side of the room. Her hoofs quickly worked the sticky mess into a host of bizarre shapes as she mixed in the flour. In quick succession, Pinkie molded a yo-yo, a castle, and a detailed, three-dimensional map of the Manehattan subway system. Then she squashed the architectural marvel into a blob and rolled it into a flat pancake that spread across the entire table. Pinkie tossed two-dozen cookie cutters into the air and watched them land in perfect tessellation on the dough below.  A few moments of scurried movement later, and Pinkie had turned the amebic mess into another batch of cookies ready to put in the oven.

And then the process began again.

Knead, press, roll, cut. Knead, press, roll, cut.

Pinkie had been doing this so long she could do it in her sleep. In fact, she had done just that on one memorable day, when she had spent the entire morning going about her daily routine without ever waking up. Only after baking seven cakes, delivering five orders of donuts, and running the cash register for three hours (customers had marveled at how quiet Pinkie was being) had Pinkie finally woken up. Fluttershy had stood waiting for twenty minutes for Pinkie to hand her the change from her order when Rainbow Dash had finally gotten tired of waiting in line and tackled the oblivious Pinkie Pie into consciousness.

That had been a pity; Pinkie had really been enjoying her dream. She had just conquered Griffonstone with her own personal army of teenage zombies, giving her free rein to unleash her thousand-year reign of chocolate rain. But just as she was preparing to unleash a flood of rock chickens upon the city of Cloudsdale, she suddenly found herself lying on the floor of Sugarcube Corner with a very frustrated pegasus standing over her. Pinkie had tried to apologize for her diabolical plan, but for whatever reason Rainbow Dash had been more interested in buying a cupcake than in Pinkie’s attempts at world domination. Dash had told Pinkie to give Fluttershy her change so that the line could move again.

And then it had been back to work for Pinkie.

Knead, press, roll, cut.

Pinkie churned out another batch of delicious treats. This time, all of the cookies were cut into the shapes of famous sculptures in Canterlot, and interlocking them like puzzle pieces formed a perfect, life-sized replica of Discord’s old stone prison.

Same old, same old.

Pinkie looked around. Maybe there was something else in the kitchen that could keep her entertained. But the Cakes had already banned her from juggling plates after she had gotten three of them stuck to the ceiling. It had taken an entire afternoon to get them unstuck. And she dared not go near the new sink after what she had done to the previous one. Although she had forgotten the exact details, she was pretty sure it involved putting the sink in the mail and sending it to one of her friends. She could not remember exactly which one.

So now she was left with nothing to distract her from the task at hoof. There was nothing left to do but bake more cookies.

Knead, press, roll, cut.
Pinkie’s head drooped for a second. Her hoofs ceased their frantic activity and remained motionless for the briefest moment. Her eyes dulled imperceptibly and her perpetual smile faltered.

“Hi, Pinkie!”

Twilight Sparkle strolled into the kitchen and glanced around. She saw Pinkie Pie hard at work turning a lump of dough into another masterpiece of delicious treats. Pinkie zoomed around the kitchen with such frenzied excitement that Twilight could not help but grin at her friend’s boundless energy. After sliding another tray of newly cut cookies into the oven, Pinkie turned to greet Twilight with wide grin.

“Hiya, Twilight. What brings you here? Ooh, do you want to try out my new recipe for cheeseless quesadillas? I made it especially for you.” Pinkie hopped over to the refrigerator and rummaged around inside of it.

“Uh, not now, Pinkie,” Twilight replied before her friend could pull out her latest ridiculous concoction. “I’m sure they taste great, but I’m in a hurry this morning.”

“Okie-dokie-lokie. Maybe you can try them tonight at the party.” A timer rang from inside Pinkie’s mane. She immediately dashed over to the oven to remove a batch of cookies that had just finished baking. Flipping the tray sideways at an angle, she added it to the top of what appeared to be an elaborate card-castle-like structure made completely out of baking trays. Twilight noted that all of the trays still had cookies on them.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The party, I mean, not the quesadillas.” Twilight suppressed a small shudder at the word. “I wanted to check that you were going to have everything ready for Spike’s birthday party this evening.”

“Of course!” Pinkie exclaimed. “There would never be any reason for me give to anything less than one of my bestest, most super-exciting-awesome-amazing birthday parties to celebrate one of my friends. No, siree. No reason whatsoever.” Her grin stretched even further than before.

“I know that, Pinkie, and I greatly appreciate it,” Twilight said. “I just wanted to make sure that you had done everything on the list I gave you last week.”

“Let’s see.” Pinkie reached into the freezer and pulled out a clipboard. “Streamers? Check. Gem cake? Check. Photographs of Spike being generous to remind him what a nice dragon he is just in case he gets greedy and turns into a giant monster bent on destroying all of Ponyville?”

“You can never be too careful,” Twilight pointed out.

“Check,” confirmed Pinkie. “Wow, Twilight, you’ve thought of everything. Maybe you should go into the party-planning business.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pinkie Pie.” Twilight shook her head. “I could never do half as good a job as you.”

“Sure you could, Twilight,” Pinkie replied. “You just need to be super-duper organized and keep track of what everypony likes to have at their parties. Surely the princess of checklists could keep up with that.”

“I suppose,” mused Twilight, “but I don’t have your joyful personality. What really makes your parties special, beyond the simple logistics, is the energy and enthusiasm you put into making sure each pony feels appreciated and celebrated.”

“Well, anypony could do that,” countered Pinkie, while cutting a series of cookies into the shape of the Trottingham skyline. “That’s just a part of being a really good friend.”

“I don’t know, Pinkie,” said Twilight, watching her friend transfer more trays into and out of the oven. “I’ve never seen anypony as perpetually happy as you. Your joy is so infectious that other ponies can’t help but have a good time at your parties. And that is why you will always be the best party planner in Equestria.” 

For a brief fraction of a second, Pinkie seemed to pause in her frenzied baking efforts. But then Twilight blinked, and Pinkie was once again stacking trays atop the precarious tower. Maybe Twilight had just imagined that Pinkie had stopped moving. After all, Twilight was not sure if it was even possible for Pinkie Pie to stand still.

“Thanks, Twilight.” Pinkie grinned broadly, pulled a rolling pin out of her mane, and turned toward the next batch of dough. “Yeah, I’m the craziest, happiest pony around. Now if you’ll excuse me, I still have, like, a bunch of cookies left to bake before tonight, not to mention checking on the supply of eye patches around the town. I’m super busy.”

“Ok, Pinkie, I’ll see you tonight. Thanks again for all of your hard work.” With a cheerful wave, Twilight turned and walked out of the kitchen. Twilight strolled through the front room of Sugarcube Corner, went out the front door, and took flight for her castle. Pinkie Pie listened intently for ring of the front bell followed by the swoosh of wings that indicated Twilight’s departure.

Once Pinkie was sure her friend had left, she dropped her smile.