[ Pinkie trots in place, looking around for any creepiness. She has to be ready to go on the drop of a rubber chicken! ]

Are you sure? [ Seeing nothing, Pinkie stops, but her movements are sharper and crisp, like a humming bird flitting around. Then she took a deep breath. ]

Where are your legs? And your fur? Aren't you cold?? And your horn?! Do you even have magic?! And your WINGS?! Is every pony else okay?! Are you actually a zombie?? Did you know you missed my birthday?