Miss Pommel (or Current Resident)
Coco Pommel sighed as she leafed through the pile of legal documents cluttering up her desk.
"Petition for legal name change, notice of intent to legally change name, postal registration of change of name, landlord-tenant contract of notification of change of legal status, employer notification of change of legal status, petition to notify family of amendment to vital statistics file, City of Manehattan...attorney at law invoice for alterations to last will and testament..." Coco threw up her hooves and let out a frustrated scream.
There was a knock on her door, which opened a fraction. "Miss Pommel? Is everything alright in—"
A chair flew across the room, slamming into the door with such intense force that it shattered violently. The sound of a mare shrieking and retreating brought Coco to her senses; she took several deep, steadying breaths, then walked to the door and opened it. "I'm terribly sorry, Rarity, I..." She paused. "Actually, I'm not, because this mess is mostly your fault to begin with!"
Out in the hall, Rarity blinked rapidly, her blue irises contracting. "I-I'm sorry?"
Coco took a deep breath...
* * * * *
"I'm sorry, Miss Pommel, but the bank refused to cash your rent check."
Coco blinked at her landlord. "Umm...that doesn't make sense. I know I have enough bits in my account..."
"It wasn't that," the landlord said. "It's because the signature on the check is a forgery."
Coco blinked again, tilting her head. "Huh?"
The landlord held up a voided check for her inspection. On the signature field, it clearly said 'Coco Pommel' in her hoofwriting.
Coco shook her head. "That's my signature..."
"Except it says 'Coco Pommel'. Your name is 'Miss Pommel.'"
"What?" Coco stared at her landlord. "That...that's ridiculous!"
The landlord pulled out a sheet of paper and slapped it against the door. Coco recognized it as her lease agreement. At the top was her name...
...given as 'Miss Pommel'.
"I just pulled this from city archives, because I thought there must have been a mix-up when my own copy of the lease said 'Coco Pommel'." The landlord frowned. "Miss Pommel, I'm going to need to ask you to pay your rent in bits or you'll be in violation of your lease..."
"Eep!" Coco squeaked. "Umm...umm...let me go down to the bank and, umm...umm...this is all a big misunderstanding, I promise!"
* * * * *
The bank teller frowned at Coco. "Hmm...I'm sorry, but this identification doesn't match our account records."
Coco looked down at her identification card, which had all the correct information on it: her name, date of birth, Cutie Mark, and even her photo. She frowned. "But...this is the identification I used when I opened my account here..."
"But that identification card is for a Coco Pommel," the teller said. "The account book you handed me is for a Miss Pommel." She smiled placatingly. "I'm sorry, but I can't authorize a withdrawal without the permission of the account holder."
"BUT I AM THE ACCOUNT HOLDER!" Coco cried, slamming her hoof on the counter. "I opened this account! I've been a customer here for years! And how can you sit there and honestly think Miss Pommel and Coco Pommel are two entirely different mares?"
The teller shrugged. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm just trying to do my job here. Next!"
"But—!"
"NEXT!"
With an aggravated groan, Coco skulked out of line, ears drooping.
* * * * *
"What do you mean my utilities have been turned off?"
"Refusal of payment, ma'am. Your check—"
"AAAAGGGHHHHH!"
* * * * *
"And that's been my life for the last couple of weeks," Coco said miserably. Rarity had made tea while they'd talked, and now regarded her sympathetically.
"Well that's absolutely dreadful, darling," Rarity said. "And patently ridiculous, how could anypony believe 'Miss' Pommel is your legal name? Ponies call me Miss Rarity all the time, but it certainly isn't on my birth certificate!"
"That's just it, though," Coco said. "Some jackass at City Hall changed my birth certificate. That's why my entire life has been turned upside down."
"Oh dear," Rarity said. She frowned. "Still, that's hardly any call to use unladylike language..."
Coco blinked. "Huh? Oh! No, I meant a literal jackass. You know, a donkey? The donkey that works at the Hall of Records."
"Oh! Oh, yes. Very well then." She paused. "So, erm...exactly how is any of this my fault again?"
Coco pinned her ears back. "It all started with that newspaper review of your new boutique," she said. "The reporter printed my name as 'Miss Pommel'. My actual name, Coco, was never printed in the article." She shrugged. "I don't know what they were thinking down at City Hall, but apparently they decided a newspaper article was right and the record of my birth was wrong, so they systematically edited my entire life to this point, then sent that information to my landlord, my bank, and so forth and so on..." She sighed and slumped her head against her forelegs. "And now I have to spend my entire life's savings to fix this entire mess."
"Oh dear," Rarity said, gaping. "Well, I..." She cleared her throat. "That's simply dreadful, dear. I think, however, just perhaps...I have a better solution that...that won't force you to spend so much money getting your affairs sorted out..."
* * * * *
Princess Twilight Sparkle strolled boldly into Manehattan City Hall in full royal regalia, Coco Pommel and Rarity at her hooves. "Excuse me," she said to the receptionist, "Could you direct me to the Hall of Records? There is a matter of a series of clerical errors which needs to be straightened out...and a city employee in desperate need of a stern talking-to."
The receptionist blinked, then pointed a trembling hoof to her left.
"Thank you," Twilight said primly, leading her entourage further in.
Two weeks later...
Coco sighed wearily as she finally made it home after a long day at work. Rarity's new boutique was busier than ever, two of the other sales associates were out with the pony pox, and her hooves ached fiercely due to a misaligned shoe.
As she closed the door, she fished her mail out of the box, then dropped it on the kitchen table. She took a moment to get a cold drink from the refrigerator, sighing as she sat down and kicked up her hooves. She began leafing through her mail distractedly, but paused when she came across a letter from the neighborhood association:
To: Miss Coco Pommel (or Current Resident)
Coco screamed.
