Lining the walls of Minty’s living room were balloons; their colors consisted of red, blue, yellow, and green. Hanging from the ceiling were streamers, decorated by pink and blue stripes. And the true centerpiece was the banner, which read: “HAPPY CUTE-CIÑERA MINTY”.

Minty and the fillies ran around the room playing games of all types. Occasionally, however, Pinkie—the one that organized the party— would join in on their fun. Despite the age difference, the fillies embraced her shining glow as she participated. The food, especially the cake, was delicious. And the music was perfect to sing along to.

The general consensus of the event was “perfect”; not a single thing was wrong or boring for anypony there. Even as most of the guests were leaving, Pinkie insured that she said goodbye to each and every individual. The smile painted on her face radiated over to theirs, allowing them to exit with warm feelings.

By the time the crowd had cleared out, Minty, her parents, and Pinkie were the only ones left.

“Thank you, Pinkie Pie,” Minty’s mom said.

“This was the best cute-ciñera ever!” Minty cried.

The filly’s squeal stretched Pinkie’s grin even further, overwhelming her with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

“You have to plan her birthday party,” her father jumped in.

“Yes!” the party planner exclaimed as she bounced in the air. At the same time, she calculated the date. “June 6. That’s not for a while but if that’s what she wants.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Well, have a nice night.”

“Thanks! And you too!” Pinkie cheered as she waved her foreleg back and forth.

“Bye Pinkie!” Minty said.

“Bye Minty!”

Pinkie trotted out the door and skipped down the streets of Ponyville. A small sliver of Celestia’s sun remained glimmering in the twilight sky. She gazed upward and saw several faintly visible stars that would soon be bright as day. The roads were mostly empty, with the exception of several ponies racing their way home.

Minty’s house was pretty close to Sugarcube Corner and before she knew it, Pinkie flew through its door to see the Cakes.

“Hi!”

Mrs. Cake turned to see her smiling employee and neighbor. Automatically, the older mare’s own lips curled into a grin.

“Well good evening, Pinkie. How was the cute-ciñera?”

“It was great! Everyone loved it!”

“That’s good,” Mrs. Cake responded as she wiped off the front counter.

The pink party planner opened her mouth and yawned. Her face stretched in order to suck in the air.

“Wow,” she said, her voice affected by the yawn, “I’m pretty tired.”

“In that case, good night,” Mrs. Cake said.

Pinkie bounced over to her counter and leaned her body against its surface. Using both of her forelegs, she wrapped her employer in a hug.

“You too, Mrs. Cake.”

The two ponies separated and briefly stared into each other’s eyes. Pinkie gave her one last smile before turning to head up the stairs. She trotted up each wooden step as she recalled the smiles she brought to Minty and the fillies at the cute-ciñera.

“They were all so happy,” Pinkie thought.

Upon reaching her room, she jumped straight into her bed and beneath the comfy blankets.

“Sleepy time for me…”

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine her dream land: her friends, upbeat music, delicious sweets, and color. But even though she could see it, she couldn’t get immersed in it— something that usually only happened if she were a little tired. The sights and sounds only felt like a daydream and not a dream dream.

“Huh....I guess I’m not so tired after all…”

As she rolled in her bed with her eyes closed, recollections of the cute ciñera played in her head. Minty was giggling while playing with her friends, smiled when she opened her presents, and was most certainly content eating the cake.

“Yep...it was just about…

Wait a minute…… the streamers! The first stripe of streamers on the far left were supposed to be blue, not pink!”

She remembered receiving suggestions from Minty and her parents when she was planning it. All of a sudden, she saw the pen strokes read “blue and pink streamers”.

“Oh my gosh! It wasn’t what she wanted! It wasn’t perfect!

Maybe...she didn’t notice…

Who am I kidding, she did notice. She was probably a little disappointed to see that. No, not a little. She was furious! But she kept it to herself because she pities me. Just like everypony else.

Every detail was now under close inspection. Subtle gestures and expressions were forced into the spotlight under Pinkie’s eyes.

“That one moment when Cranky Doodle’s smile faltered for a split second. He was annoyed by me.

Maybe it was an accident.

Again, I’m only lying to myself. He was clearly annoyed! I can’t blame him.

The cake wasn’t pink and blue eith— blue and pink! What’s wrong with me?!”

She tossed herself to the other making, emitting a large sound from the springs in the process.

“Did Pound and Pumpkin hear that?”

Pinkie froze everything, including her mind. Her ears felt like they grew ten times their normal size to hear silence— silence that never amounted to sound. Finally, after hearing nothing for a while, she sighed.

“Good....at least I have a little worth…”

She tried once again to clear her mind of any crippling thoughts— to see pure darkness and hear pure silence.

“One of the candles was probably half a degree away from ninety.

Those drinks probably made Minty go to the bathroom one more time than necessary, meaning less fun.

Sure she liked them. But why couldn’t I have made them like...no-bathroom drinks where you don’t have to go to the bathroom.

I think that might be impossible.

It doesn’t matter! I can be in two places in once for crying out loud!

And I hope I left a good first impression on Wysteria. She probably wouldn’t want to live in the same town as a crazy pony.”

Her eyes squeezed even tighter but such an action only prolonged her state of consciousness.

“Best party planner in Ponyville? What kind of planner would make silly mistakes like that? At least they’re tolerant enough to feel sorry for me. I keep telling myself I’ll fix the issues with the last party but while I focus on the things I messed up on last time, I mess up in other things because I don’t think about them as much. Why do I always notice these things after the party? Oh right, because my brain is slower than a snail.

But next time, I will be better. And that’s a Pinkie Promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.

For extra authenticity, she ran through the physical gestures while lying in her bed. And then, her mind was clear; she no longer felt she had to strain herself to fall asleep.

“Hello, Dreamland…”

She was back in Ponyville; the sun was shining high in the blue, cloudless sky, the streets were crowded with her friends, and her lips couldn’t help but smile.

“Good morning, Roseluck!” she cheered as she approached her market stand. “These flowers are just beautiful!”

“Why thank you, Pinkie. Do you want one?”

“Yes please,” she answered. She opened her blue saddlebag and produced several bits from one of the pockets. She tossed them onto the wooden surface, causing unsynchronized clattering as the coins struck it. Upon seeing them, the flower pony grabbed a marvelous daisy and handed it to her customer.

“Have a nice day!” Roseluck said.

“Thanks! And you too!”

Feeling proud of herself, Pinkie trotted to the next stand and then the next one. She insured that every salespony and customer had a smile on their face. She stopped by every stand and expressed her enjoyment of the respective products. Even fierce competitors didn’t mind the fact that she loved every product just the same.

The last stand in the market was controlled by Big Stick. His sharp, stern black mane, stone cold frown, and squinted eyes alerted her toward him.

“Good morning, Big Stick! Say, you look a little upset. Is there an-”

“Look kid, what do you want?”

His eyes narrowed until his irises were nearly invisible, causing Pinkie to shudder.

“Well, I can tell that you’re upset. And I want to make you smile so t-”

“Please, just tell me what you want and get out of my face!”

Becoming desperate, she jerked her head back to notice ponies at other stands. After confirming her assertion, she turned back.

“But nopony else is in line. You can talk t-”

“If you don’t want anything, then get out!”

Big Stick’s eyes were now bulging and staring directly at her, his frown had deepened, and his brows were furrowed to the point that they looked like a single entity.

“Okay, then, I’ll have a one pound dumbbell.”

Pinkie shakily placed a bit on the counter as Big Stick handed her the dumbbell.

“Thank you,” she said shakily.

Turning away from the stallion, she was face to face with Roseluck, whom was standing behind her while she was ordering.

“What was the hold up?! Couldn’t you see he didn’t want to be talked to?!” the florist exclaimed.

The confidence that Pinkie had built up from visiting the other stands had been smashed by a giant hammer, leaving it in ruins.

“B-But, I just wanted to make him happy…”

“Well maybe he just wants to be left alone! Don’t you think that’ll make him happy? Or at least, happier than you screeching in his ear?”

Pinkie was shocked to have this falling on her all at once. She scrambled to find a response but Roseluck had already stormed off.

“Wait! Come back!”

Pinkie sprinted toward her friend; her strides were much larger than Roseluck’s. Within seconds, she had crashed into the florist, tackling her to the ground. It was only afterward that Pinkie had noticed her faux pas.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

At this point, the party planner was hyperventilating. Her eyes must have been playing tricks on her. There was no way this could have been happening.

“Are you crazy?!” Roseluck screamed, “Get off me!”

Pinkie fell backwards into the stones of the street, allowing the florist to rise to her hooves. Roseluck thrusted herself to see the pony on the ground. A burning intensity seared in her eyes.

“Don’t touch me again, you animal!”

And then she marched off again. Everypony was frozen with gazes directed at Pinkie, their looks conveying a feeling she was all too familiar with.

“No, please everyone! Don’t be sad!” she pleaded as she jumped to her hooves, “I can make you laugh really hard!”

Entirely without a plan, she moved her legs as if to dance. She did what she could but her balance felt shaky, every motion was deprived of grace. To add it, she threw in some forced, desperate giggles.

“I-Isn’t this fun, guys? Just a funny pony t-that makes you w-want to laugh…”

The stares never ceased. The smiles, the laughter, the optimism never arose. Sounds from the other ponies were never conceived. And what certainly never stopped was the pity.

“N-now what are you doing? Come on e-everypony, smile, smile, s-smile. Fill my heart u-up with sun-sunshine sunshine…”

Her own smile lost its shape despite her best efforts to hold it up. Tufts of her mane unfurled and dropped down her head. And from what she could tell, tears were breaking free from her clouded eyes.

“I guess you can cry in your dreams…”

Unable to look at their condescending faces any further, she squeezed her eyes shut. She winced from the burning sensation but she didn’t care anymore.

“It’s not like they did so for me anyways.”

Pinkie reopened her sore eyes to find herself in her own bed. Her face felt drenched and her mane felt deflated. She saw through her window some light, indicating that sunrise is approaching. Tired of being trapped in the hot, confining bed, she slugged herself onto her bedroom floor. Her weary legs somehow moved her toward her bureau. She looked up and saw what laid before her.

A mare whose mane was mostly straight, save for several bunches of curls. Her entire face was in fact soaked; this was evident by the individual pink strands that stuck to its surface. Her forehead was probably so due to sweat. Judging by her red, puffy eyes, her cheeks must have had streaks of tears. Aside from that, there was a weak, timid frown on the bottom, adding to the heartbreaking sight.

“I’m a pretty big mess.”

This was enough to evoke a small chuckle.

“I guess I feel a little better…”

She took a brief moment to see the small smile and the subtle glow that appeared on her face. There was a tiny relief from the giggle.

“a little…”

Pinkie turned to the other side of her room, where the door to the bathroom stood. She slowly walked her way over to it and gently turned its knob. Upon entering, she grabbed a towel before going into the shower. She took several minutes under the warm water washing her mane and body— particularly her face. The feeling of the streams of water hitting her coat was relaxing, as if her problems were evaporating like steam.

After she believed she was clean, she turned off the faucet. She dried herself off within the cubicle, allowing her to bask in the retained warmth. Her mane quickly poofed up after scrubbing it with the towel. She then stepped out of the shower, causing her to shiver from the sudden rush of cold.

Using the towel as a blanket, she made her way over to the steam-covered mirror. She brought one of her forelegs to the glass surface and wiped away the watery layer on top. She saw her now poofy mane and clean face. The red of her eyes were gone, allowing the blue to be highlighted.

“Yep. That’s the pony everyone wants me to be.”

She perked a quick smile before leaving the room. She bounced her way down the stairs and to the kitchen of Sugarcube Corner, ready for the day’s work.

“Good morning, Pinkie,” Mr. Cake said.

“Good morning to you too,” the pink pony replied.

Pinkie sat down at a chair and waited for the first order. She created small talk with Mr. Cake but what she really wanted at the moment was to start baking. Eventually, though, Mrs. Cake came through the door with a grin.

“We’re gonna need a dozen peanut butter and chocolate cookies and a vanilla cake,” she cheered.

“That’s wonderful!” Pinkie said as she went over to a cabinet and pulled out a bowl, “I’ll make the cookies!”

“Okay, then,” Mr. Cake said, “Mrs. Cake and I will make the cake.

“Great!”

The three of them grabbed the appropriate supplies and got to work. Pinkie got a hold of eggs, flour, chocolate chips, and butter. Having made this recipe many times already, she automatically mixed in the eggs and flour to produce the cookie dough. It took a bit of effort to not lick any off the spoon. She then sprinkled the chocolate chips into the mixture and stirred some more. Afterward, she rolled up twelve tiny balls and placed them on the tray. Finally, she took the tray, and placed it in the oven.

Happy with her work, she bounced over to Mrs. Cake, who was getting ready to place the cake in another oven.

“Are there any more orders?” Pinkie asked her.

“Yes, next we need cupcakes.”

“Right on it!”

It took her no more than ten minutes to make the preparations for the order and place them in the oven as well. With the remaining ten minutes before the cookies were ready, she prepared another order of cupcakes. Throughout the whole process, Pinkie was pretty much her normal, happy self; the marks of last night had dissipated without a trace.

Two oven alarms rang out simultaneously. Pinkie and Mrs. Cake went to their respective slots and pulled out their respective products. The cookies looked absolutely delicious: warm, fluffy surfaces, gooey chocolate chips, and a sweet aroma that tempted the little baker to “taste test”.

“Oh my gosh! I forgot the peanut butter!”

Her mood had crashed like a train; the smile was destroyed and her eyes lost their sparkle.

“Now the customer will hate me forever…all because I’m so stupid!”

Seeing a counter right there, she placed the tray on it. Her head collapsed in her struggle to keep it upright; her mane sagged down with it.

“Pinkie.”

The voice alerted her like the oven alarms and her head shot back up. She jerked it to find Mrs. Cake standing beside her, concern in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” the older mare asked. She saw Mr. Cake standing not too far behind her with a similar look.

“Oh no! This is very bad!”

“Yeah,” she replied, forcing up a smile, “I, uh, just forgot to put in the peanut butter to these cookies…”

“Well that’s an easy fix,” Mr. Cake jumped in. He briefly glanced at his wife and nodded at her. He then went over and took the tray, “I’ll have these fixed in no time.”

The stallion took the tray to the other side of the kitchen, away from the two mares. Mrs. Cake approached Pinkie slowly.

“Pinkie,” she said, “please let me help you. Something is clearly wrong.”

The young baker stared at her employer with a blank expression. Those older eyes pleaded with her, another look that she was familiar with.

“There’s no use in hiding it now…”

After a minute of silence, she finally sighed.

“I’m worried that the customer will hate me for messing up their order…”

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Cake placed a hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder and pointed toward her husband.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Mr. Cake is putting the peanut butter on as we speak. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Pinkie looked back into those reassuring eyes and shuddered. She felt uncomfortable to be in such warmness.

“W-Well I know…”

She paused for a second, uncertain of how to voice her concerns. She tried to piece it together and scolded herself when she couldn’t. But Mrs. Cake was patient, having known the filly well enough.

“It’s just that...you and Mr. Cake are so nice and good to me…”

Pinkie stopped to take in a deep breath.

“but sometimes I feel like...you look at me...like a fool...like a simpleton...a burden in your lives…”

Her head started to feel heavier as she contemplated how Mrs. Cake would react. It took a big push for her to continue.

“I try to tell myself it’s not true...but I just can’t help it sometimes…” she said, “I try to set expectations for myself...to be the happy, helpful pony that always makes others laugh...that makes every party exactly perfect...nothing is wrong in the slightest…”

She then took in a lot of air.

“And when I fail...I point out every little flaw...and I feel really bad because I was too dumb to see it. And that’s what just happened. I didn’t bake in the peanut butter...I didn’t give them exactly what they wanted…”

Mrs. Cake made sure to listen to every word of her friend’s confessions. She was deeply moved by her employee’s feelings.

“And now Mr. Cake has to fix my mistake for me when, you know, he could be working on something else...And something tells me that you only keep me around because you pity me...I know it’s wrong for me to see the worst in you but sometimes I think I can be that great of a burden…”

Pinkie’s eyes fell shut and she trembled ever so slightly. Her breathing was audible and deep, yet constrained and forced.

“I’m sorry…” she said, “for messing up…”

Almost immediately, Pinkie felt herself enveloped in a deep embrace. Her eyes flashed open to see Mrs. Cake’s forelegs wrapped around her.

“Pinkie,” she said with her voice inches from her friend’s ear, “Mr. Cake and I care about you very much. We do not keep you here because we pity you.”

“I know,” the pink pony whispered.

Mr. Cake had finished lathering the cookies with peanut butter and had returned to the two mares.

“You’re one of the sweetest, smartest ponies we have ever met,” he said, “We are very proud to have you as a part of our family.”

That last line made her chuckle, although not as loud or strong as usual. For Mr. Cake, that was a good sign.

“I’m not actually your daughter…” Pinkie said.

“Maybe not genetically but sometimes water can be thicker than blood.”

“Everypony makes mistakes,” Mrs. Cake said, “but that doesn’t make them stupid or a failure.”

Pinkie gently hummed while wrapped around her second “mother”. Just being with her made her feel so much better.

“You’re a very special pony, Pinkie. You do make everypony feel good on the inside.”

Mrs. Cake held her for a while longer, making sure her sunshine was bright and happy again. It was that sunshine, though, that broke the hug. She saw her bright blue eyes sparkling and her smile as wide as a mile.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cake,” she said with a gentle softness.

Pinkie Pie’s glow radiated to the older mare, causing her to grin as well.

“Anytime you need help, we’ll be here for you.”

As the trio returned to work, the young baker took a moment to look at her flank, which bore three balloons; a sight that she had been proud of since she was a little filly.

“I am special. I am a great, smart, kind, and special pony that’s gonna make you smile.”