When Pinkie got to the dock, she pawed around underneath, pulling an eyepatch and two balls out of her cache before finally locating a fishing pole.  She pawed at the ground until a worm came out, which she grabbed in her teeth.  Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she carefully worked it onto the hook, trying not to grimace at the taste of dirt and the odd sensation of the worm moving between her lips.  This was worth a little suffering; this would make the new not-ponies smile.