//------------------------------//
// 218: Red Pen Frenzy 
// Story: Thirty-Minute Pony Stories 
// by Silvernis 
//------------------------------//


218: RED PEN FRENZY




“So how long do you expect to be in Ponyville, Miss—Red, was it?” asked Rarity, settling onto one of the low chairs arranged around the table.

The pale grey unicorn mare sitting on the other side of the table nodded absently, her short maroon mane bobbing. “Red Pen. And I’m not sure.” She sighed, suddenly looking rather dejected. “I suppose until Her Highness wants me to go back to Canterlot.”

“Wait a second,” said Applejack from across the table. “The Princess sent you here? Ah thought Twilight said you were comin’ here on vacation.”

“Leave,” said Red gloomily.

“What?” Applejack frowned. “Ah’m sorry, Miss Red. Ah didn’t mean no offense—”

“I believe she meant she’s here on leave, dear,” whispered Rarity loudly. “As in ‘leave of absence.’”

The other unicorn nodded. “Medical leave, to be exact.”

“You poor thing!” cried Rarity. She leaned in, putting on her best I’m being sympathetic but I still want all the juicy gossip I can wring from you look. “Are you injured, my dear?”

“I have . . . problems,” said Red. Rarity nodded eagerly and waited, but no further details were forthcoming. Applejack coughed and adjusted her hat.

The awkward silence was mercifully interrupted by the arrival of the waiter.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, hoofing them each a menu. “To start with, what would you like to drink?”

“Cider’ll be fine, thanks,” said Applejack.

“I’ll have the sparkling water, please,” said Rarity.

“Serial comma,” muttered Red Pen.

They stared blankly at her. She was hunched over the menu, peering closely at it through glasses that had somehow appeared on her nose. “Needs a serial comma,” she said, talking more to herself than the other ponies. “Has daisies comma daffodils and alfalfa with rye. Should be daisies comma daffodils comma and alfalfa with rye. Always better with serial commas. Logical sequence. And on rye. Not with. Locative preposition.”

Her horn glowed with pale red magic, and a large fountain pen flew out of her saddlebag. She scribbled briskly on the menu for a moment, then set the pen down, looking satisfied.

The satisfaction instantly melted into horror as she noticed Applejack, Rarity, and the waiter staring at her.

“Water, please,” she muttered, face reddening.

The waiter nodded dumbly, then beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen.

Rarity glanced at Applejack, then back at Red. The other unicorn suddenly looked very interested in the salt shaker.

“My dear, are you . . .  all right?” Rarity finally asked.

Red sighed and shook her head. “It’s like I said. I have problems. My special talent is editing and correcting, but I’m . . . obsessive. I can’t stop myself from trying to fix everything I read. That’s why I was sent to Ponyville. I used to work in the Canterlot archives, but things got . . . bad. I couldn’t function. The Princess sent me here to try to relax and . . . learn to control myself.”

“How dreadful!” cried Rarity. “I promise you, my dear, we shall do everything we can to help you! Isn’t that right, Applejack?”

“Sure thing, sugar cube. Just tell me one thing.” The earth pony looked hard at Red. “Do you know anything about a ‘want it, need it spell’?”

Red shook her head, looking puzzled.

“That’s fine, then,” said Applejack, smiling. “We’ve had plenty of experience dealin’ with ‘obsessive’ with your cousin. Ah just don’t want a repeat of that danged Smartypants disaster.”