It had been a slow day at Sugarcube Corner. More accurately, a slow afternoon. Several ponies had come in during the morning, mainly to purchase large orders just in case the strange things lasted for a while. Unfortunately, as the day progressed, things got weirder and fewer ponies were willing to go outside.

With Pinkie Pie off in Canterlot presumably to try and put a stop to whatever was happening, and the twins off to the library with their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Cake pretty much had the entire bakery to themselves. While there had been some flirting and suggestions of having a little fun in various parts of the bakery, they had not actually gone through with it (yet). Instead they decided to continue on with their work first.

No customers meant no sales, which meant no products needed to be replaced. Combined with the fact that there were no outstanding orders, there was no need to do any baking. The baking pans that had been used earlier in the morning had been washed and were currently on the drying rack. The floor had been swept up, but would not be mopped until they were leaving it for the night. Now the married pair of baking ponies were taking inventory. Mr. Cake was handling the refrigerated ingredients while Mrs. Cake did the dry.

Mrs. Cake paused in her work as she saw something brightly colored on one of the shelves, hidden behind some bags of sugar. Setting her clipboard down, she reached up to push the bags aside and see what it was. Behind the sugar was a rubber ball, an eye patch, a bag of balloons, a first aid kit, one of Pinkie's emergency party poppers (it was a small device that could be held in a hoof, but when the string was pulled, it somehow exploded to decorate an entire room for a party), and a note which read "replace emergency cupcake."

Reaching out, Mrs. Cake took a hold of the ball and looked at it. She smirked slightly and gave a small shake of her head. Pinkie could be such a strange and silly pony. Some times it was hard to remember that she was an adult, at least physically. With her energetic enthusiasm and child-like innocence, it always made her seem more like an over-sized filly. Although she did show the ability to be responsible and mature when she had to look over Sugarcube Corner or watch the twins when they were younger.

In some ways, the Cakes saw Pinkie less as an employee and more of a family member. She had pretty much been their first child. In fact, it was because of her that they had decided to try and have children of their own to begin with. Between taking care of Pinkie, meeting her family, and seeing how happy they were for her, it made the Cakes want a child of their own.

Now they had two wonderful foals... who were growing up a lot faster than Mrs. Cake would like. Soon they would be leaving the nest and going out into the world to make their own way. Although, she and her husband were young enough to have another, and they had discussed having more. Maybe the time had come for them to seriously consider trying to have another.

Mrs. Cake was just about to suggest this to her husband, when the sound of a bell ringing indicated that somepony had just come into the bakery.

"I'll see who it is," she said, setting the ball down. Letting her husband continue to count the eggs, Mrs. Cake made her way to the doors, stepping out of the kitchen and into the main room.

What she saw made her stop. Something about the pony looked familiar. At first, Mrs. Cake thought it was Pinkie Pie, but she was all wrong. The coat still had a pink tinge to it, but looked dull and drab. The mane, normally wild and poofy, was flat and laid down from one side of her face. There was no smile, and the eyes lacked a certain twinkle. In fact, they were tinted red and seemed to glisten with... tears?

"Pinkie Pie?" Mrs. Cake called out. "Is that you, dear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cake," the mare -- Mrs. Cake could not think of her as Pinkie -- answered. She stopped trudging long enough to turn and look up. "Did you need something?"

"No," Mrs. Cake answered gently. "Just checking. Is... is everything alright?"

"Just... tired," Pinkie answered. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go to my room and get some sleep."

"Would you like to come into the kitchen, have a snack, and tell us about what happened?"

"No thanks. I'm not hungry."

That, more than anything else, shocked Mrs. Cake and caused her to worry. Pinkie Pie was turning down a chance to spend time with another pony and eating? In all the time they had worked together, Mrs. Cake could only think of one or two times either happened alone, and those were extenuating circumstances: Pinkie being asked after she had already promised to spend time with another pony, and an incident having to do with food poisoning. If she had been asked before today, Mrs. Cake would never have imagined that Pinkie would turn down both, especially without giving a very good reason.

"O...okay..." Mrs. Cake managed to get out. "Well... if you change your mind -- or need anything -- we'll be down here."

Pinkie headed for the stairs and climbed up. Mrs. Cake watched her as she went, listening to the slow, heavy thumps of hooves against the stairs. Once the sound had stopped, she turned to go back into the kitchen and made her way to where her husband still stood at the refrigerator.

"Cand-" Mrs. Cake started, then stopped. No. This was a very serious conversation. Now was not the time to use some sugary treat based pet name.

"Carrot," she said instead. "I'm worried about Pinkie Pie."

"So am I," Mr. Cake responded. "I heard what she said." Stepping away from the refrigerator, he moved closer to his wife and pressed against her.

A gentle sigh escaped Mrs. Cake as she leaned against her husband. Despite his tall and gangly build, he had always been a sturdy stallion. She had always been able to lean on him for support, both physically and emotionally. A claim that they were fortunate enough to work both ways in their relationship.

"I feel like we should do something to help her," she said, "but I don't know what."

"Maybe she actually is just tired," Mr. Cake suggested. "Maybe we should just let her rest and see if she's feeling better later."

The suggestion caused Mrs. Cake to move, turning to look up at her husband curiously.

"I don't really like the idea either," he admitted, "but we don't really want to push her either." He placed a foreleg around her neck. "If she actually is tired like she claims, then giving her some time to rest will help. If not... well... " he shrugged. "She knows we're here for her if she wants to talk about it. If she seems to get worse, we'll try to talk to her, or even take her to the doctor if necessary."

"I guess you're right," Mrs said with a sigh. She turned back to look at the doorway. "But I don't like it. Something is wrong with Pinkie, and I feel like I have to do something about it."

"Which is one of the reasons you're such a wonderful mother, sugar drop." Leaning down, Mr. Cake gave a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead, getting the faintest hint of a smile.

The moment was interrupted by the bell ringing once again.

"I'll go see who it is this time," Mr. Cake offered. Gently separating himself from his wife, he moved toward the doors and pushed them open.

"Welcome to Suuuuuuu....." The rest of what he was going to say was forgotten. His eyes went wide and jaw fell open as he stared at what was coming in.

Ants. A line of ants were walking into the bakery. The biggest ants that Mr. Cake had ever actually seen. They were not the size of carriages like he had read about once (thank Celestia), nor were they the size of a pony like in that one play Pinkie had shown him, but they were by no means small. If Mr. Cake got near one -- and he had no intention of doing that -- he would bet that they came up to his knee. A bite from their pincers could probably sever a hoof.

The ants continue to enter Sugarcube Corner and spread out. Most of them headed for the walls. Pincers opening wide, they moved forward and pressed into it. Chunks began to come out in the oversized insects' grip and carried out.

"Hey!" Mr. Cake suddenly shouted (surprising even himself). "Those walls aren't actually made out of gingerbread."

"What's the matter?" Mrs. Cake called out.

"We have ants," Mr. Cake called back. "Except I don't think our normal methods are going to work this time." He stepped back from the door way. "You get the hose, I'll see what I can do with the broom."