Rarity's Generous Plan, part. 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Pinkie Pie

 

 

The door to SugarCube Corner swung wide open, and its most enthusiastic occupant poked her head out to see her first guest had arrived. A familiar young blue unicorn colt with wavy, shock white hair stood on the store's front step.

"This is where the party's at, right?" He smiled.

"Oh, hi Pokey!" Pinkie Pie responded with her usual glee. "You're awfully early! The party's not for another two hours!"

He nodded, walking right past her, in through the open door. "So I'm fashionably early," he smirked. "You don't mind?"

 

She slammed the door, not out of anger or frustration, but simply out of her abundance of energy. "Oh no! I don't mind, not at all! I wish everyone showed up early!"

He knew this girl. Bubbly. Too bubbly. Seemed like she could be a lot of fun in the right circumstances. Great ass. Curvy. A touch on the heavy side, but he liked them that way. Too bad she was always surrounded by those other dumb fillies.

"Not me." Pokey muttered, slinking toward the punchbowl.

As he passed Pinkie Pie, he noticed the balloons on her flank. He'd never really paid attention to her cutie mark before. Something in him twitched instinctively, a reflex at that visual.

Fitting, he thought.

He smirked.

 

The colt helped himself to the punch. As usual.

Pokey was something of a party animal. The difference between him and Pinkie, however, was that he didn't organize parties. He just crashed them.

In fact, Pokey had come straight here from a masquerade party on the edge of town. They had great punch there. Strong. Tasted kind of funny. Strong, maybe spiked too. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had spiked punch. Good, though. Not like this. This stuff was for foals. Tasted like no alcohol at all. It's thanks to that party that he knew about this one. That one filly in the black mask told him about it. She gave him something, too. To bring along. A gift.

 

After all, it would be rude not to bring a gift to a birthday party.

 

 

Pinkie hopped over to him. She literally bounced across the floor. He took another sip, looking over the glass at her. This girl's switch must have been stuck on "MAX".

"I hope you don't mind if I set up while you make yourself at home! I still have LOTS of preparing left to do!" she offered, twisting her head sharply to one side as she spoke. It almost looked painful. But she clearly didn't mind.

"Sure." He shrugged, refilling his cup. Maybe there was alcohol in here. Maybe it was just weak. Better to be sure.

 

She busied herself about the store at a frantic pace. With Mr and Mrs Cake away until the party began, the store was empty, and in the silence of their absence there was only Pinkie Pie's excited humming and sashaying about the draped streamers and floating balloons. It looked festive already, but for the parties Pinkie usually threw, this wasn't even the halfway point. Pokey looked around, took in the bright decor. By the time she was done, he thought, it would look like a clown threw up all over the room.

But he found it hard to complain. A party was a party, however dopey.

He'd been to Pinkie's parties before, and they all followed that same trend. So of course, he took some small pleasure in destroying that innocent aesthetic. Sure, popping her balloons was an equally childish thing to do, but it gave him some measure of satisfaction in the face of the sugary-sweet atmosphere.

He was brought out of his idle thoughts when the hot pink earth pony hopped up next to him on the table.

"'Scuse me!" she bubbled, reaching up on her hind legs to fasten more streamers across the walls and ceiling.

His eyes again fell on her backside. Such enticing curves for a young filly like her. Then again, was she really that much younger than he was? Maybe it was just the way she acted that made him see her as young. How old was she anyway? Might be awkward if someone asked and he didn't know, on her birthday.

He kept staring. Pinkie didn't notice.

She hopped down and he brought his eyes back to the punchbowl, as if nothing had happened.

"Sorry I'm so distracted!" she offered, trotting lightly past him, "But I gotta finish setting up before the other guests arrive! I still have to put up the rest of the balloons, and set up the table for the cake, and oh! There's got to be a place for the presents, of course! And what if I don't have enough chairs?"

 

Presents. That's right.

Pokey reached down with a telekinetic hand, his horn glowing faintly. From his saddlebag, he drew out a plain little present, a white-wrapped box.

"That reminds me," he said as casually as possible, "I got this for you."

"Oh! You didn't have to get me anything!" She smiled, earnestly.

"It's okay. I'm sure you'll like it." He didn't know EXACTLY what it was, but that's what the mare at the other party had told him. It was perfect, she assured him. Some kind of game.

"Well thanks, Pokey!" She bounced on her hooves and graciously accepted the present.

"Why don't you open it?" he took another sip of punch.

"Oh!" she glanced up, then shook her head firmly. "No, I can't. I should wait until everyone's here to open my gifts!"

"But it's a game. If you're going to play at the party," he mused, smiling and disaffected, "you should really know how to play first. Otherwise, you'll hold everyone up."

That punch was going right through him.

"Well, if you insist!" She smiled. Clearly it didn't take much convincing.

Pokey shook his head as Pinkie began eagerly unwrapping the box. "Excuse me, I'm going to find the little colt's room." he muttered, wandering off.

"Okie-dokie-lokie!" she beamed back, still tearing into the gift wrap.

He winced. He hated that phrase. She used it all the time. It was stupid. So stupid.

He trotted off.

 

With the wrapping paper shredded in piles around her, Pinkie was left holding a very plain white box. She opened it up, eagerly.

Inside there were all sorts of bits and pieces. Black fabric, straps. A blindfold. And a small booklet made of stapled-together paper. It was all very elegant-looking and the monochrome coloring made it seem somehow classy. Even the handmade booklet, which appeared to be the instructions, seemed crafted with care. It was familiar, somehow, but the young filly didn't linger on that thought. She pulled out all the pieces and flipped through the booklet, reading out loud to herself. Instructions on how to play! Looks like it was designed for as few as two players, but as many people as wanted to join in could! How fun!

What was first? One person needed to be "it". Well that's easy! She'd be "it" first. It was her birthday party after all!

What else? You needed a chair or a table or something. Well there was plenty of furniture around. Pinkie grabbed a low-standing card table and spun it around over to herself, plopping down on her back on it, holding the instruction booklet overhead to read. How fun this would be!

She flipped the page. What was next? Some of the black straps were needed. She fished them out and laid them over her legs, just above the hooves. It said she needed help for this part, but Pinkie had never yet found a game she couldn't set up by herself. She pushed on, determined. With every successive step of instructions, she followed along. Straps on her hooves. Around and under the table. She smiled, humming excitedly to herself. She'd never heard of a game like this.

It had to be tight, the booklet said. She tugged. Her hooves came free.

Not good enough. She put her hooves back in, tightened the strap by pulling with her teeth. Real tight.

Her hooves slipped right out. They had a habit of doing that. She replaced them, tightened again. Extra tight.

Finally they were tight enough to hold her. She couldn't wiggle free. She checked them repeatedly. Tugged and shimmied. Nope. She was held fast.

Perfect! What was next? She flipped the pages with her nose.

 

Pokey dabbed his hooves in the water and dried them off on a provided towel, then stepped disinterestedly back into the main room of SugarCube Corner. Maybe some more party guests had arrived in the few minutes he'd been away. Maybe one of them had brought something stronger than punch. Maybe there was a sexy older filly who'd decided to show up. Something to spice up this boring birthday.

"Oh, hey Pokey!" Came Pinkie's perky voice.

He glanced up. Stared.

For a long moment, he thought perhaps he'd had too much to drink. Maybe that punch was more loaded than he'd realized.

No, he realized. He wasn't imagining this.

There was the curvy pink filly, lying on her back on a small card table, legs splayed out in opposite directions. She was strapped down to the table in what looked like black leather bondage restraints. She shimmied a little, but seemed firmly held down. Her poofy, curly tail lay up between her legs, draped on her stomach. She looked at him with her familiar expression, excited and eager.

"Hey!" she said again. How long had he been staring? "Can you help me?"

He blinked. "...what?"

"I just need you to help me with this next step!" She turned her head and nosed at one last piece from the box. The blindfold. "Can you just slip this on me?"

"...is this a trick?" He asked, hesitant. Still, he paced closer.

She giggled, evidently amused by his silly question. "Nope! It's a game!"

 

He looked her over. That had to be about the most vulnerable position he'd ever seen a girl in. And certainly not one he ever expected to find Pinkie Pie in. At least, not willingly. But sure enough, her she was, laid out in front of him spread-eagle on the table, all tied up. Asking him for a blindfold. He had no idea she was such a freak. But he liked it.

Was this for him? Had she sent that other filly to invite him to make sure he got there early? An extra birthday present before the other festivities? Or was she just a much more wild filly than he'd always imagined her?

He couldn't piece it together. But really, it didn't matter how or why. Here she was, laid out in front of him. And he wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

His horn glowed again and the dark strip of satiny fabric floated up and slipped across Pinkie's face, cinching around and covering those big, trusting eyes. The world went black around her and she giggled. That seemed to be her default response to everything.

 

"I can't see!" she said, as perky as ever. "What's the next step?"

He loomed over her, unseen. She squirmed adorably beneath him. How did she tie up all four of her legs? This girl was full of surprises. He was starting to appreciate that.

 

From the back window, another pony watched, silently.

 

Pinkie couldn't stop fidgeting, even secured as she was to the table. Her natural enthusiasm was keeping her from sitting still despite the numerous straps holding her in place and it was all she could do to squirm and wriggle. Her tail twitched, instinctively and unconsciously held between her spread hind legs. She couldn't see a thing. But she could still sense everything going on. Pokey was very close, near her legs. She could hear him breathing. He wasn't answering yet, but he was probably still trying to find the page. She didn't hear the booklet flipping.

She felt weird like this. She'd been blindfolded plenty of times before, usually while taking out a small country's worth of pinatas (which wasn't a big deal, because they loved parties as much as she did!), but she'd never been bound like this. Especially not at the same time! It was like an adventure. Trying to pick out everything that was happening without seeing it was a fun challenge. But she wanted to get on with the game. Her eagerness didn't always mean impatience, but it was just too much not to be excited! She was still all smiles and bubbly energy.

 

Pokey loomed over her. His eyes traced the curves of the soft pink pony tied up so neatly beneath him. He knew he was drunk. Maybe worse. His vision was getting a little blurry, but thankfully, alcohol never affected him in such a way that it might... interfere with what was to come.

He did a kind of reality check, blinking hard and shaking his head. The blurriness wouldn't go away, but neither did the scene vanish around him. It seemed this really was happening.

He didn't know Pinkie very well. He'd been to plenty of her parties, but never spoke with her more than just in passing. Truth is he barely knew a thing about the filly tied up on the table, but he wasn't about to pass up a golden opportunity. Whatever her motivations, she was here, now, and just as ready as he was. He gripped her fluffy pink tail gently, magically. A light touch she barely felt, and brushed the tail aside to catch a glimpse of Pinkie Pie's... pink pie. He smirked, stupidly. Lame puns must be contagious.

She moved her tail back, instinctively, without even consciously registering it. Again, he brushed it aside. This time, a bit more firmly. He held it out of the way, leaving her uncovered.

"Pokey? What are you doing now?" she chirped in eager curiosity. She was being coy, obviously. He didn't answer.

He leaned down a little, nosing in right near her soft little mound. Took in the sight of her smooth inner thighs, her plush, plump pink lips and delicate little petals. Closed his eyes. Inhaled, smelling her deeply. She smelled like cinnamon icing. With vanilla. He brushed so slightly against her.

"Hey!" she startled, squirming a little on the table. "Don't be a naughty pony, Pokey!" the earth pony giggled playfully, almost in sing-song. "You know better than to touch a filly there!"

Maybe he did know better.

 

Everything was black around Pinkie Pie. The whole place was quiet, save for the sound of shifting leather as she squirmed impatiently on the table. She waited a long moment. "Pokey?" she asked. No answer.

She wondered if she had sounded too harsh. She was just joking! She knew Pokey only brushed her by accident, of course. She didn't mean to sound like she was really lecturing him. That sort of thing probably happens all the time. It's not like he was being a busy-hooves or trying to clop a feel, he was just trying to help her with the game. Her heart sank a little. Did she scare him off?

The table she was on shifted a little. The sound of hooves coming down softly on either side of her. She instantly came back to good spirits. A smiled beamed across her blindfolded face. "Pokey? Is that you?" she asked the darkness.

Still no answer.

The table shifted a little more. Hooves moved alongside her, under her hind legs from beneath. That had to be Pokey, right? It felt like he was standing with his front legs on the table, under her legs, pushing them up towards her chest what little the tight straps would allow.

"Is this the next step?" she asked excitedly. She'd never played a game like this before.

 

The pink little pony let out a little surprised "Ooh!" when she felt something poke against her.

Something hard and warm. Very warm. Like it had just come out of the oven. But it was wet, too. Slick and drippy against her. Slippery, like cooking oil. And worst of all, it was poking right against her private place!

"Pokey?!" she yelped, startled. "Is that you?"

Still no answer. She squirmed, fidgeting, but whatever that thing was, pressing against her, it stayed there. Resting right against her private pink place. No matter how much she wriggled, she couldn't shift out of the way, or move her hips aside. She was stuck firmly in place.

"Pokey, what are you doing?" Her voice was still bubbly, but now there was an edge of hesitation, betraying her apprehension, her slight worry. "Pokey? I can't see you, you have to talk!" she said with a nervous giggle.

The something started to press a little harder. The perky pink pony stiffened up in surprise, then wriggled more. "Pokey!" she gasped, following with an uncomfortable laugh. "Come on, say something! Say, 'Oh hi Pinkie, I'm right here!'"

Just silence.

The slippery, warm thing started to press in against her more. She squirmed, and the hooves on the table pushed against her legs, straining them against the straps, trying to pull them up more towards her chest. She was spread wide like this, her little hooves pointed just a little up into the air. Her tail was pinned out of the way. She wriggled, but it accomplished nothing. She felt something starting to give, and through the darkness could make out the very tip of the thing parting her private pinkie place. She squirmed more.

"Pokey?!" She had a weak, nervous smile. It wasn't very convincing. She was really worried now. "Pokey, what are you doing?" she asked, helpless. Still pinned. Couldn't see. Couldn't hear him. All she could do was feel him. And struggle.

It kept pressing.

Of all her friends, Pinkie probably knew the least about sex. She was too innocent, too sheltered. Fluttershy had seen it in the unabashed face of nature, Twilight had surely read about it in her books, but Pinkie had no exposure. She didn't quite know what was going on. She just knew if she didn't act, something was about to happen.

"Pokey!" she yelped. Her voice still had its friendly tone, but it was strained. There was urgency. She spoke quickly, even for Pinkie Pie. "Pokey! I don't think this is what the book said to do!"

The pressing continued. Something was about to give.

"Pokey?! Don't-!"

 

The little filly's protest was suddenly interrupted, replaced with a sharp, squeaking gasp.

 

Pokey let out a hot sigh. Shivers of pleasure ran up his back as he forced his hips forward smoothly, sliding his long, dark, dripping shaft into the pinned little filly beneath him. She was so silky smooth. Like fucking velvet. Her tender, plush little pussy was so warm and soft. Just like the rest of her. He lowered his head a little, sighing with satisfaction. He couldn't get all the way in, but most of the way was good enough. He rested there for a second, his slicked cock buried deep in that little filly's tiny lovehole, plump pink lips parted around that wet shaft. He leaned back just a little, peering underneath himself to see. He'd never taken a girl in this position, face-to-face like this. It was a little awkward. It provided a better view though. He watched, eyes locked between her parted thighs, as he slowly pulled out, inch by inch. Her puffy pink pussy lips pulled back with him a little, they were so tightly wrapped around his throbbing shaft. He smiled. Pushed back in, slowly, stroking his dick back into that neat young pussy again. What a sight. He wished he had a camera.

He was so absorbed by the sight and sensation of that cute virgin slit so naughtily spread around him that he barely even registered the girl herself.

 

Pinkie was tensed up underneath him, surrounded by darkness. The blindfold on her face wasn't coming off. She was pulling hard on all the straps, but they wouldn't even budge. For a brief moment, all she could focus on was that feeling of being penetrated. Her head pounded and her heart raced erratically. Her mouth hung open, but she couldn't say anything. She felt winded. It was like getting a shot, only times a hundred. A million. She shook for a second, then managed at last to gasp, taking a deep breath of air.

Her chest heaved unevenly. She felt like there was a weight on her chest, and she had trouble breathing. When the blue stallion mounted over her began moving again, she felt something deep inside her moving too. She could barely understand it. That thing went inside her. That wet, warm, hard thing pushed inside her little pink hole. Nothing was supposed to touch her there. Nothing was supposed to go inside. How could it even have? It was too much to think about. Her mind and body reeled.

Pokey thrusted back inside, hard. Deeper this time. He reached her limit. She yelped sharply, her poofy mane bouncing as her vulnerable form shuddered in response. It was too big inside her. He was so slick and wet he'd managed to get in deep, but she could barely take the size. Especially having never taken anything before. Her legs shook.

"Pokey," she managed to whimper out, her tone uneven. He didn't hear her. His mind was somewhere else.

She couldn't see him. Her heart was beating so loudly it echoed through her aching head. She could barely hear him. But she could feel him, deep inside her. She could feel his hooves against her legs, using her for leverage now. And she could feel his hot breath against her chest, making her shiver and shake. With every slight motion she could feel that thing sliding roughly in and out of her. It was slick, smooth, but so hard. It hurt.

Pinkie squirmed, wriggling. Instinctively trying to adjust herself. She wasn't straining to get free anymore. She was trying to reposition, to spread her legs wider, to become more accessible without even realizing it. Not because she wanted it, but just to make it easier on herself. To make it feel... less big. But it was no good. She felt like she was being split open. She squirmed more, squeaked.

 

"Pokey, I don't want to play this game anymore," the once-perky pony begged weakly.

The blue stallion didn't even notice. He just stared at the lurid sight before him. Those leather-bound legs, that soft, curvy flank, and that plush, plump pink pussy parted so pleasantly around his prick.

He planted his hooves at her sides, and she kept her rear legs raised as high as she could. He noticed it only in passing. Weird girl, he thought. She seemed so reluctant for a while, but now she was spreading eagerly for him. He took it as an open invitation and after repositioning himself, Pokey slid his cock back into her waiting entrance, in a single long stroke. The stallion started bucking against her, a good, casual rhythm. He didn't take it easy on her or go slow. Not that he was trying to be cruel, but with his mind as cloudy as it was, it was hard to think of anything but himself. And that feeling.

She was so soft. Never been used before. She was giving her virginity up to him. She must be crazy about him. Maybe she'd been waiting a long time to set this up. Or maybe she was just a freak and he was in the right place at the right time. But right now, feeling her warm and tight and silky-smooth around him, he didn't care. He was dripping like a faucet, thrusting in and out with animalistic force, each stroke slicked by his wet, slippery cock.

"I don't want to play anymore. Pretty please," she repeated, her voice high-pitched, nearly breaking.

 "With sugar?" she added in quiet desperation.

 

 

Pinkie Pie had stopped squirming around.

All her earlier energy, her unending enthusiasm that kept her squirming, her perky, bubbly twitchiness, they'd vanished. She just lay there on the table, flat on her back, hind legs propped up in the air as Pokey pounded away at the poor young filly. Her body bounced, tightened up a little with each stroke, but otherwise she barely moved. She tried to keep her legs as wide open as possible, but it didn't do much good. He kept thrusting, selfishly focused on his own pleasure, not even paying attention to the discomfort Pinkie's penetration was causing her. Her fore legs tensed up reflexively against their straps with every stroke.

 

Tears were streaming down the pink filly's face from beneath the blindfold, which had grown damp. At the deepest point of every rhythmic thrust, she yelped urgently, but still softly. Only a few sounds filled Pinkie's senses, all she could focus on besides the sharp poking sensation. The lewd, wet sounds of flesh on flesh. The stallion's heavy, dark balls slapping evenly against Pinkie's bare ass as they swung beneath him. The wobbling of the table as Pokey mounted the tied-up filly. And her own reflexive squeaking.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," she cried quietly at every thrust as he bottomed out inside her. Her voice was weak, whimpering. It didn't get better as it went on. The pain of the initial penetration had faded a little, but still, every poke hurt. And yet through his clouded senses, all the stallion could hear was shy moaning. He was utterly lost in the sensation and the sight of Pinkie's pinkest bits. He kept going, and with every stroke he provoked another pitiful, wincing noise. "Ow, ow, ow!"

 

She felt so good around him. And she'd offered herself up so neatly all she needed was a pretty little bow on top to finish the display. In the pleasurable haze that grew around him as he neared climax, his mind wandered briefly. He kept thrusting at a measured pace, the hot, silky sensation around his cock flooding his senses. Heavenly. Would this be a regular thing? He'd have to make a note to attend more of her parties. And whether or not she was setting this up for him in particular or just because she finally wanted her cherry popped, the girl was clearly a freak. She liked it rough, and this was awfully kinky for a first time, with the straps and the blindfold. Well, he thought, he could be rough if that's what she wanted. If she wanted to be dominated, he'd come around SugarCube Corner a lot more often. If she wanted someone aggressive, he'd be aggressive. With a pussy like this, how could he resist? He'd corner her whenever he caught her alone. Pin her down. Force her...

He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath, speeding up, slamming his hips against hers.

Let's not get carried away, he thought. That would be too far. He wouldn't act without making sure first.

After all, Pokey thought, he wasn't a rapist.

 

He shuddered. The pleasure was building up inside him. He dropped his shoulders, hung his head, and focused on finishing. He sped up, hips bucking harder and faster, slapping against that curvy pink ass.

Pinkie wasn't even whimpering anymore. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes were screwed shut tight. There was only darkness. And that brief half-second between every poke, feeling it pull out, where she tensed up, wishing that would be the last one but fearing what was inevitably to come. It was like a bad dream, and she couldn't wake up.

She just wanted it to be over.

 

The stallion braced himself against her, bucking his hips wildly against her, thrusting like an animal, ramming in and out of her sore little entrance and making slick, wet sounds. He reached his peak, went over the edge. Sped up, slamming away into her as fast as he could, pulling out almost all the way, and then buried himself inside her velvety lips, as deep as he could. She yelped sharply, like a violent hiccup, and tensed up all over. She arched her back high on the table, overcome with the sharp sensation. He twitched inside her. She felt it. Throbbing. Felt something else, like it was filling her up. It was so hard to focus in the darkness. Something warm inside her.

She could feel him breathing hot against her ear. Heard his lungs straining to keep up with his activity. He leaned down, whispering.

"Happy Birthday, Pinkie Pie."

 

He didn't hold there for very long. As soon as his orgasm had passed, he pulled out unceremoniously. Pinkie Pie bit her lip, tensed up for the inward thrust that inevitably followed the withdrawl, but it didn't come. She held there, poised blind for a few seconds, but at last realizing it wasn't going back in, she just collapsed flat. Every sore muscle in her poor used body relaxed. Her legs lay weak against the table, still strapped in tight. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel something thick and sticky all over her inner thighs and down from her pink place. It felt like syrup, but very warm.

Her breathing was weak, uneven, like she was expecting something worse to happen. She didn't squirm or bubble or smile, she barely moved. She didn't show any of her characteristic energy. She lay on the table, panting, bound, blind. She'd stopped crying, but her face was still damp.

 

She lay there for a long time. Didn't move, didn't make a sound. Her mind could barely touch what had just happened. She tried to make sense of it, what little she understood from it all, but it just wouldn't process. She could feel the sticky stuff drying on her.

 

"Pokey?" She finally asked, weakly.

No answer. She waited at least another minute, just breathing.

"Pokey? Are you there?"

Still nothing.

For a second, she thought the bad dream was over.

 

There was a click. She could hear the door swing open. She broke out instantly in a cold sweat, shivering. She whimpered audibly.

"I don't wanna play anymore, Pokey!" she yelped loudly.

 

"...Pinkie Pie?" came a deep, soft voice.

 

The young filly poked an eye out from under the blindfold, spotting a familiar face. She slipped out of the hoof-straps and bounded over to her two new guests.

"Oh, hi Big Mac! Hi Fluttershy!" she bubbled, her mussed mane bouncing as she hopped over to the door. "Are you here for my birthday party? Did you come here together?"

The two newcomers stared blankly at the disheveled pony. Her tail was scruffy and matted. Distinct and easily recognizable white streaks, half-dried, ran down her leg from her crotch. Her face was stained with tears and a blindfold hung half-leveled on her head.

 

"Oh my gosh, Pinkie Pie, what happened?" Fluttershy immediately demanded.

"You... okay, little filly?" the big red stallion asked.

Pinkie hesitated for a second. Her smile quivered, her eyes went a little glassy. For a second, she looked like she was about to fall over. Mac stepped forward, unsure.

 

Then, she hopped up in place and grinned excitedly. "Of COURSE I am!" She beamed. Her enthusiasm didn't fit her appearance at all, but her bounce was unmistakable. "After all, it's my birthday, and my bestest friends are on their way! Now I still have another half hour before the party starts, and if you both help me we can get the last of the streamers set up!" She turned back to the store, nodding. "Come on! I'm gonna go wash up, and THEN we can set out the CAKE!"

The pink filly stopped. Stood still for a second.

"And games!" she shouted over her shoulder. "But FUN games everyone can enjoy!"

Fluttershy and Big Mac just stared at each other.

 

Outside, Rarity stepped away from the window with a shrug.

Pinkie must have learned something from all that. She had, hadn't she? And yet she reacts like this? But then, Pinkie Pie's so random, it's hard to tell with her. The white unicorn shrugged. It wasn't worth worrying about.

Besides, she had to get ready for a party.