Typewriter Error
Typewriter Error
By
TypewriterError
She straightened the magazines again in the lobby of the O.C.I.O. Every time some fool pony opened the door, the incoming air shifted the piles. There were rumors that Princess Twilight was sometimes involved in the interviews. She would probably be understanding. At least even if Type could not get in, she could meet one of the Princesses. She’d dreaded being interviewed by a pony who had lost his patience already.
Five minutes of worry left until her interview.
There was a smudge on the table. She rubbed it with her hoof. Nope. Still there. She though she heard something but when she stopped rubbing the mahogany surface the other sound had already ended. The smudge was lessened but not by much. She brought her muzzle close and exhaled forcefully onto the polished wood.
“Miss Error!” Type jumped, turning red as she glanced at the confused unicorn stallion.
“I’m sorry. I have trouble hearing,” she explained sheepishly.
“That’s fine. Follow me,” the receptionist said, waving his hoof at her. Type followed the orderly stallion through the halls past a few doors with names on them. Her meadow green eyes scanned them lazily. Each nameplate had something different about it: a different font for the name, a different metal for the sign, a different design on each sign or lack of design. It was random enough not to bother her. The pair of ponies stopped in front of a door labeled “I. Strike” and the receptionist knocked politely.
“Come in!” shouted an irritable voice. Great.
“He’s been getting alicorns all day...” the receptionist explained as he opened the door, allowing Type to enter. She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, nodding to herself as she stepped inside the cramped office. She’d probably be irritable too if she were in her interviewer’s hooves.
“Sit!” a rude voice barked. Type obeyed and the white earth pony stallion looked from her horn to her wingless sides before giving a heavy sigh.
“Long day?” she offered.
“Name?” His red eyes flashed as his mouth snapped shut on the hapless word.
“Typewriter Error!” she yelped accidentally then clamped her hooves over her muzzle. At least she didn’t need to worry about her hearing problems with him barking everything; just her nerves.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Uh... I’m afraid not—”
“Age?”
“Didn’t you get my forms?”
“They’re faulty.”
“Faulty?”
“Your picture,” he showed the confused unicorn her photo and she blushed, “Not only is your mane completely different, your cutie mark is not a typewriter as you said it would be.”
“Well, I submitted my forms back in June. I hadn’t quite worked out every detail about myself yet—”
“Age?”
“22.”
“Race?”
“Unicorn.” He pulled another picture from his file and showed it to Type.
“This shows you as an earth pony.”
“I... forgot my horn that day.”
The interviewer’s already drawn eyebrows drew closer together and his scowl became more pronounced. Type shifted.
“You forgot your horn?”
“It happens to other ponies too, I’m sure,” Type said, laughing nervously. Her interviewer huffed and retuned the picture to the folder.
“Gender?”
“It’s not obvious...?” He turned his eyes on her again. “Mare.”
“Cutie Mark?”
“A lowercase ‘a’ with a circumflex.” When he gave her the now familiar look of irritable ‘Please tell me you’re not serious?’ she rolled her eyes behind her square frames and shifted so he could see her flank. He made a note in the folder.
“Why did you change it?”
“Long story.”
“Make a short one up. You need to notify us of changes in your physical appearance made during the immigration process. I’m doing you a favor here by trying to check it all and give you a chance.”
“I... well. It was just too hard to find the right typewriter?”
He blinked at her intently.
“Eh. That works.” Type sighed slightly, feeling a bit of relief in the snapping tension. “Disabilities?”
“I have to wear glasses and I suffer from hearing loss.”
“Nearsighted or farsighted?”
“Nearsighted.”
“Anything else?”
“Just allergies.”
“I didn’t ask about your allergies. Occupation?”
“Student. Hoping to be a writer though.” He groaned and the flush of embarrassment in Type’s cheeks turned to anger. “Is something wrong?”
“Why are they always writers?” he muttered to himself.
“Excuse me?”
“Reason for Entry?”
“Uh...” she stammered for a bit, not remembering what she had put the first time, “To see Canterlot?”
“You said here you wanted to live in the Crystal Kingdom.”
“That was months ago. I have enough trouble remembering—”
“I’m sure you do.”
Type’s mouth opened but she quickly closed it. Her head darted to the side and her coat bristled, but not at the interviewer. Some machinery had clanged threateningly in the next room. An echoing scream sunk beneath her hooves.
“What was that?”
“Probably just another singer.”
“What happens to singers?”
“Nothing. When Glasseye dumps them like that we just wash the tar off and send them home.”
Type sat a little straighter in her chair. A clock ticked somewhere and Type patted her ponytail with a shaking hoof. If she could hold out for a few more minutes there might still be a chance of her meeting Princess Celestia someday or taking a trip to Ponyville to visit Screw Loose and the Elements of Harmony.
“Miss Error, give me one good reason why I should let you into Equestria.”
Silence enveloped both the ponies. Type stared at the cluttered desk, imagining herself straightening everything while she tried to think of an answer.
“Because I can blend into the background?” she offered hopefully. The interviewer frowned, but this time he seemed to be more curious than angry.
“Blend in?”
“Yes. I don’t want to be a pony that everypony hears about. I just want to hide in the background and have a normal pony life. I don’t want anything great, I just want to see Canterlot. I want to see the other ponies. I...I just want to belong with everypony else. I don’t need anything big. I just want to see Equestria with my own eyes.”
“We’re not a country of tourists, Miss Error.” He reached for a stamp sitting by his right fore hoof.
“I know. I do want to contribute—”
She was interrupted when the stamp came down on her form. Six months. Six month ended in less than a second. She didn’t have to see the word to know that she was denied entry.
“If you wish, you may resubmit the correct forms in four weeks. Although I doubt we need yet another writer here.”
Type kept her muzzle shut and nodded. Arguing would do nothing now. Her eyes watched the pony toss her folder into a red tray.
This was far from over.
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Damn those OC alicorns, ruining the chances of normal ponies.
Lol, I like it Type.
2216434 You should read my entry "Golden Lining," to see an Alicorn get rejected. (Shameless self-promotion)
2213945
That could work, I guess.
2217525 Whichever you prefer is fine
*Grins* Oh this needs more Type, you know it does. This needs another story.
2218096 Care to submit an entry?
*tinkers in his lab, watching a computer view screen with all the various bugs he'd planted in the offices* Oh? Another writer, eh? How curious that they reject such innocuous applicants, and yet allow that useless magician Trixie to remain. Well, writers aren't usually good fighters.... I suppose we can use more for he suicide bombing squad... *he titrates a pale yellow solution and tests the pH* Excellent! Now, to schedule my little entry interview...
Poor Twilight, you shouldn't have let becoming a Princess cloud your mind. You've become so sadly jaded and cold. *hmms* Pinkie is still her bouncy self. We can still entice her with chocolate rain as well. Yes... no need to eliminate one who can be converted with ease.
(I actually hate revenge fics... but for trolling purposes, they're a perfect fit!)
I don't know why but every single time I read these, I get that feeling of extreme anxiety that people would get before an interview. And if I got anybody like this, I would've been shot down by the time I given the name or something.
Do You Think That You Could Do A Chapter For Me?
Okay, this rejection I can completely understand. Paperwork is not something you mess with. Ever.