Mrs. Cup Cake wiped her brow, cleaning it of the slight bit of perspiration before turning to face her next customers, a young couple with large grins plastered on their faces. They were no doubt still stuck in the "honeymoon phase," that early period in a relationship were everything is bliss and happiness, where you and your significant other feel as though you are soul mates through and through. I give it two months before they start bickering and sniping at each other. While she was an ardent proponent for romance, Mrs. Cake was a practical mare and could tell when two ponies were meant for each other or just infatuated. After showing the couple to their table, she stopped to gaze at Mr. Cake as he made his way into the kitchen, noticing his short orange mane and soft amber coat. My, I am such a lucky mare!

Despite how early it was in the day, Mrs. Cake was shocked by how packed Sugarcube Corner had become, bewildered by the sudden lunch rush but deciding that it did her no favors to question a good thing. Delivering a plate of cinnamon rolls to a mare and her daughters, she caught a glimpse of Pinkie Pie setting some frosted strudels on a table and calmly telling the patrons to enjoy their meal before walking away. Ever since Twilight Sparkle's departure, the specifics of which none of the remaining Elements of Harmony were willing to divulge, a very noticeable change had taken hold of the pink mare. She no longer bounced or talked incessantly, instead replying in short, level answers and always acted as though she were half-awake at all times, lacking her usual alarming levels of energy. Her once poofy mane was now long and straight, kept tied back in a ponytail while her raspberry coat had turned a horrendous grayish pink hue.

What was truly awful, however, was Mrs. Cake's inability to help her tenant and friend, who absolutely refused to discuss what had happened with Twilight, instead parading around as though nothing was wrong. Once the two were alone in the kitchen, she set aside her clump of dough and rolling pin just in time to see Pinkie gazing off morosely into space. "Pinkie, are you alright?"

Shaking her head, Pinkie reattached the big grin she wore nearly 24/7 and nodded. "Of course I am, Mrs. Cake. Why wouldn't I be?" It was a difficult decision for Mrs. Cake to agree on what was worse: the clearly fake and toothy smile Pinkie gave to everyone in public or the immense pain and sadness she was evidently carrying with her at all times. "Were my strawberry swirl cupcakes with extra sprinkles not yummy enough? I could add more strawberry or sprinkles."

"N-no, it's fine. They're great and the customers love them. It's just that...hmm, how do I say this? I'm very worried about you, dear." While the edges of Pinkie's mouth never wavered, they did twitch slightly, throbbing gently as though they were alive and very angry.

"Aw, no need to worry about me, Mrs. C," Pinkie replied through her grin, which was now starting to become very unsettling. "I'm feeling just supercalifragilisticexpialidocious." She then pulled a tray of coffee cakes out of the oven and began applying a thick cinnamon coating, her left eye spasming faintly. Mrs. Cake frowned, not fooled by Pinkie's causal made-up word usage or her somewhat calm tone. There were nights when she and her husband could hear crying coming from the bedroom above theirs, alternating between mad sobbing and quiet whimpering. Whatever happened to her friend had the poor mare twisted up like a pretzel and not acting her much more lovable happy-go-lucky personality.

"Alright, if you say so." Mrs. Cake placed her cookie sheet in the oven was ready to exit the kitchen when she sighed and turned to face Pinkie, who was humming a little tune without her usual bubbly excitement. "Pinkie?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cake?"

The light cerulean mare sighed. "I just want you to know that if...you ever want to talk, my door is always open." For a brief glimpse, Pinkie's mask seemed to shatter, the sorrowful little filly breaking the surface as her smile drooped and her eyes dulled from exhaustion for playing such a demanding role. But then, the mask was reformed and Pinkie nodded.

"Okie dokie lokie. Thanks for the advice, Mrs. C."

Her attempts at aid politely declined, Mrs. Cake grabbed a tray of cookies and walked back out the kitchen door, missing the tear that raced down Pinkie's cheek on onto the counter.

The rest of the day raced by and for that, Pinkamena Diane Pie couldn't be for thankful for that. Man, who knew forcing a smile in public for hours on end could hurt so much? She thought as she stared into her bedroom mirror, rubbing at her aching cheeks and noting the gray color of her coat. Not even the Cloud Cuckoo Lander that was Pinkie Pie could ignore how clearly depressed and non-vibrant she was, silently wallowing in self-pity while ignoring her duties as Equestria's Premiere Party Planner. It had been three days, forty-eight minutes and sixty-two seconds (in counting) since Pinkie last threw a party, even for something as insignificant as Mr. Sand Trap's hip replacement, which definitely improved his golf swing.

Untying the scrunchie that held her mane back, Pinkie let it fall over her shoulder and half of her face, making her look as bad as she felt. She sighed loudly and threw herself on her bed, burying her face into her arms, groaning at the tons of stress that she was under. The bed moved slightly and Pinkie picked her head back up, coming face-to-face with a pair of large, pale purple eyes. The alligator licked the tip of her muzzle and lazily blinked at her.

"Hey Gummy. Are you hungry boy?"

The alligator stared blankly ahead.

"What do you mean, 'Stop this foolishness?' There's no foolishness-ness going on!"

Gummy kneaded the covers with his tiny claws.

"What? I am too perfectly happy! That's me: happy, happy, happy!"

Pinkie glanced at Gummy licking one unblinking eyeball. She gasped, "Gummidemus Licks-A-Lot Snap, I should wash your mouth out with soap for using such language! I am NOT a sat-tur-ninely, lee-thar-gic mope! Whatever that is."

Slowly blinking one eye after another, Gummy curled up on the bed and began to gnaw on his tail.

Pinkie sighed, "Yes, I know I'm faking it. But you don't understand! I made a Pinkie Promise to Twilight to be happy and that's what I have to do. I'm doing this for her and besides, you can't make a Pinkie Promise and not not go back on your word." She brought Gummy close to her and put her arms around him. "I miss Twilight so much. By this time, she'd be flipping out about something tiny or explaining in big words why something wouldn't work." She sniffled but no tears came forth; Pinkie had promised her friend to laugh the sadness away, even if the joy was fake. Despite being a lump of misery, Pinkie Pie tried to ensure her smile stayed on. After all, she'd made a promise and she was a mare that kept her promises. Even if they killed her.

Author's Notes:

The title of this chapter comes from the Victor Hugo novel, The Man Who Laughs, which is about a sideshow freak whose face was mutilated to resemble a huge grin. No matter what happens to him, he always has a smile on his face. Man, Victor Hugo was such a downer!

I came up with "Gummidemus Licks-A-Lot" for Gummy's first and middle name because, well, Pinkie Pie seems like the type to give her pet a full name.