Applejack grinned when she saw Pinkie Pie bouncing closer with a cake balanced on her behind; she blinked, extra long for the old mare to work her magic, and then when she opened them up again she was faced with a pure wasteland of color. Like magic itself exploded, and left behind the reddest balloons, the yellowest of party hats, a turquoise party blower as bright as Celestia's sun. Or maybe that was just her eyes. Goddess knows she'd been having a hard time reading the paper lately -- just went and made those letters so darn tiny.
Least it was quiet, so she could leave her magical hearing device turned up without it ringing on her. It was nice of Pinkie to do that; gal was still so obsessed with partying, AJ was surprised she didn't walk in to see a whole parade.
"Happy birthday, Applejack!" Pinkie cheered. She laid the cake down on the table -- it was frosted a brilliant green, with little tufts of frosting and bits of cut fondant forming into a picture of home. She made a little barn out of graham crackers, and in the center she had crafted a darling mock-up of Bloomberg.
The candles stuck out from his branches. A cartoony one, zero, and one, in that order.
Pinkie Pie put a party hat on her own head, and then Applejack felt a strap go around her chin.
"Aunty Pinkie Pie made you one red velvet cake, on the house! And look, I even made Bloomberg! Have you seen him lately? He's gotten so big since we last visited, you know."
Applejack just snorted, "Thank you, Pinkie, but I don't think I can get away with callin' you no Aunty of mine; I'm two years older than you, Sugarcube! Or was it three? Uhhh.... four, was it?"
Pinkie Pie giggled, pulled herself up a chair (which was now suddenly covered in paper confetti) and brandished the cake-cutting knife. Was there a proper term for that knife? Applejack swore she remembered there being one. Eh. After Pinkie lit the candles on top with the strike of a match, Applejack leaned forward and blew them out. Smoke curled up from their tips in a sweet-smelling spiral, and lingered gray into the air until Pinkie waved it away.
She pulled off the little Bloomberg and cut the cake into pieces. Well, mostly. She cut one half of it into pieces, and then Applejack figured she was leaving that whole extra half for herself, gingerbread barn and all. After that Pinkie, bouncing up and down with a soft hum, went jumping to and fro around the table. Napkins, forks, spoons, tub of ice cream, cookies, other tub of ice cream.
When she finally sat down again her pink and gray mane sagged just a bit to her shoulders, and Applejack heard every crack and tick in her joints. They both pretended not to notice.
"I'll say two for your big day, AJ, but after that it's back to four again! I wanna be a little filly just a teeny-weeny while longer."
Applejack chuckled and held out her hooves to receive her plate loaded down with cake, some vanilla oat ice cream, and a single cookie with an apple frosted on it. "Psh. I don't think you'll ever be anything but, Pinkie Pie. I've have been watching you hop around like a newborn foal since the day you walked into Ponyville, and you ain't slowed down none since."