Twilight wasn’t sure what was more surreal, her new wings or ponies bowing to her as she walked by. However, after the past few days, she’d learned to expect this sort of thing. Even after telling half a dozen ponies that she didn’t expect them to kowtow, she still arrived at Sugarcube Corner’s back door a bit ahead of schedule.

Pinkie opened the door on the first knock, her usual wide smile on her face. “Heya, Twilight!”

“Hi, Pinkie.” Twilight entered as her friend moved aside. There was no other sound but the record player. “I guess I’m the first one…” She trailed off as she took in the room. It was by and large a standard Pinkie party: punch, snacks, streamers, music. However, there were a marked lack of games, the record was a contemplative piano piece, and there was a distinct “night sky” theme in the decorations’ color scheme, culminating in a black banner bearing Twilight’s own cutie mark.

After a few more moments of vacant gawping, Twilight found her voice. “Uh, Pinkie?”

“Yeah?”

Twilight turned to Pinkie, whose smile hadn’t shifted. “We [i]did[/i] establish how teleportation doesn’t kill ponies, right?”

Pinkie nodded. “Yup!”

“Okay. Good.” Twilight took a deep breath. “Why are you throwing me a wake?”

“Well…” Pinkie looked away, her ears folded back. ”You know that scorch mark you left on the library floor?”

Twilight snorted. “Intimately. You wouldn’t believe the spells it took to clean that thing.”

“And you know how it was actually [i]on top[/i] of the floor?” Pinkie reared up and held her forehooves slightly apart to indicate the vertical thickness. ”Like it had been standing there before a bunch of rainbow beams zapped it?”

“Oh.” It was Twilight’s turn to look away for a moment. “Well, yes. I hadn’t thought anypony would notice.”

“Mom and Dad taught me how to count the layers in a sheet of mica. That was pretty obvious.” Pinkie forced a smile. “It's how I make such great baklava!”

“Makes sense.” Twilight tried to chuckle, but it came out as more of a sigh.

After a brief stretch of awkward silence, Pinkie said, “So, yeah, this is why I told you to come ten minutes earlier than everypony else. I wanted to make sure you were okay with this.”

“I appreciate the thought, Pinkie, but I wish you’d asked me a bit more in advance.”

“Sorry,” said Pinkie, her mane and posture sagging.

“I do understand what you were thinking. I suppose I did kind of, well, die.” Twilight swallowed as her stomach twisted. She tried to smile again. “Besides, how many ponies get attend their own funerals?”

Pinkie nodded so fast that her head blurred a little. “Right?”

“Still, I didn’t want any of you to think you’d killed me. It didn’t even hurt.” Twilight frowned at the big black banner. “But I guess we’re stuck with this.”

“Don’t you worry, Twilight. Give me two shakes of a pony’s tail.”

Twilight turned back to Pinkie. As she did, a blur of motion surrounded her. By the time she finished moving her head, the black had been replaced with more shades of purple, the music was an upbeat dance tune, and a piñata had materialized from somewhere.

Pinkie has barely breathing any more heavily. “Better?”

Twilight giggled. “Better.”