//------------------------------// // The Ponyville Yellowpages // Story: Sweetie Belle Can't Find Her Socks. // by Super Trampoline //------------------------------// "Hey, Sweets, whacha up to?" Apple Bloom inquired as she trotted into the clubhouse. It was a lazy late afternoon in July, the kind meant for frog catching and soapbox racing and boy pranking and other quintessential summer activities. Sweetie Belle was engaged in none of these activities; rather, she sat on the floor of the Crusader Clubhouse with a cumbersome tome in front of her. "What's it look like I'm doing?" Sweetie replied, not bothering to look up from the apparently engrossing read. "And if your answer involves a dictionary joke, I'll... I, uh--" The other Crusader smirked. "I wasn't planning on going there, but now I'm curious what you were going to do." "I, uh, never mind. I'm reading the yellow pages." Apple Bloom trotted next to her and sat down parallel. "The yellow pages? Ain't that some sort of like, Iunno, business directory?" "Yes, yes it is," replied the unicorn somewhat automatically, as if engrossed in the book before her. Which she was. "Oooookay. So, uh, what's got you so enthralled about it?" "I'm hoping I can find my socks." Whatever Apple Bloom was going to say terminated in her throat, laid to rest by the massive non sequitur. She just sort of sat there perplexed for a few seconds. "What," Sweetie asked dryly. Apple Bloom huffed and rose to her hooves. "There are at least three, no--" she furrowed her brows-- "actually, five routes I could take to tackle this one. But Applejack taught me to be a proper Southern Belle--pun involving your name unintended and an artifact of pony naming conventions, so all I'll say is bless yer heart, y'all'r crazy. Ah'm going spelunking with Scoots." And with that, she left. "Forgive them, Celestia, for they know not how important my pink socks are to me," Sweetie muttered, as she continued her search. "One day yet they'll see the light."