You've Got Spam!

by CoffeeMinion

Rating: teen
Tags: Bat Pony, Comedy, Rarity, Slice of Life, Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3968

[Co-written by Georg!] Faced with an unrelenting scourge of misspelled junk mail, Twilight Sparkle stands determined: if the mail must go through, it's gonna have to go through her.

When Twilight Sparkle's overzealous insistence on correcting a typo in her junk mail draws the attention of a foreign postal service, can she dial-down her OCD long enough to avoid an international incident?

Probably not, but let's see what happens!

Co-written by Georg for pretty-pegasus-wings in Bluegrass Brooke’s Secret Santa fic exchange! Tweaked by Moosetasm! Art by pridark! Featured on Equestria Daily 10Jul.2017! :pinkiegasp:

Published 2016-12-25 12:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-12-25 12:50:01 UTC

'Rensident' Evil

✉ ~Day One ~ ✉

Today was the most exciting day in Twilight Sparkle's life! Well, other than yesterday when she and her new friends used the Elements of Harmony to free Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon, but technically that had been night since the moon was up even though it was after the sun was supposed to be up, so it could have been considered day, except for the darkness and the stars.

She tried not to think about it too much, as the whole thing gave her a terrible hornache.

The sun was barely up again by the time Twilight Sparkle galloped down the library stairs, making enough noise that she unconsciously stopped to shush herself. Taking a few minutes to drop by the library's small kitchenette and brew a single cup of instant coffee, as well as toast a slice of bread, she unrolled a scroll with the checklist of all the things she wanted to do on her first full day in Ponyville.

"Step one," she read out loud. "Breakfast. Check!"

The previous resident of the library had not kept anything in the small but functional icebox, so the only reason Twilight had been able to have breakfast at all was her Emergency Supply Cache⁽*⁾. 'Shopping at the market' was the fourth thing on her list for this morning, and she added a few more essentials to her grocery list while eating.

(*) A small quill & inkwell, compact thesaurus, dictionary, backup blank checklist, two slices of bread, twelve grams each of coffee, tea and cocoa—individually packaged—and a ceramic cup labelled ‘Best Student.’

"Step two," she read off her checklist. "Check Mail! I can hardly wait!"

When she had been a young filly at home, her mother and father had always gotten the mail, and while she was a student for Princess Celestia, a servant had always brought any letters for her. Spike could send and receive Princess Celestia’s letters by magic, of course⁽**⁾, but this was the first time she was ever going to open a mailbox just for herself.

(**) Most ponies had access to premium (but costly) express teleportation services via specially-trained postal unicorns whose magic was attuned to a number of regional distribution centers. Letters sent this way could achieve quick turnaround, though they might make any number of “jumps” before being physically carried the “last mile” to the recipient’s mailbox. Most ponies, however, didn't have their own private email server dragon.

Twilight gathered her cup and plate with her magic and deposited them in the sink. She eyed them for a moment, chewing her lip, and knowing she should clean them… but a quick glance at her list confirmed that “Breakfast” wasn’t accompanied by “Wash Breakfast Dishes.” With a guilty smile, she penned an entry for that—at the bottom of the list, and well after “Check Mail.”

Twilight practically pranced out the door and down the few steps to her new home’s mailbox. She greeted it with a broad smile, then lit her horn, and—

The mailbox didn’t open.

Twilight bent down and scowled at the otherwise featureless wooden box, eventually spotting a small, inset key-lock. She crinkled her muzzle as she studied the mundane little irritant which was blocking not only her anticipated and coveted checkmark on "Check Mail," but also, by extension, her first completed checklist in Ponyville.

"Who locks a mailbox?" she muttered.

She thought about using her magic to spring the fairly simple latch, but vague memories of the penalties for tampering with the mail made her hesitate. Logically, the previous librarian must have had a key to the library mailbox, but she had not seen any keys while she was moving in. She jiggled the box with her magic anyway, hoping it might “accidentally” pop open.

While she stood there frowning at the mailbox, Rarity came around the corner of the library at a fair speed and skidded to a halt in front of her.

"Oh! Twilight!" Rarity said, laboring to keep her breathing steady following her recent rush. "Darling, you startled me there. I didn't realize the library was open yet."

"I’ll be opening it soon, but I wanted to check my mail first." Twilight produced the incomplete checklist and pointed at the appropriate unfilled box. "Do you know where the previous librarian kept the keys to the mailbox?"

"In the checkout desk, I suppose. I... um... don't normally frequent the library," added Rarity, sounding a little guilty. "Why don't I get the mail for you and that will free you up for—" Rarity craned her neck and peeked at the checklist "—your morning constitutional. That sounds invigorating. Do you jog?"

"Not really. My ‘morning constitutional’ is more of a—" Twilight lowered her voice "—bathroom visit. I normally read my letters while there. It's a great time-saver."

Rarity blushed slightly and tried to put on an encouraging smile. “Say no more, darling. All the more reason to let me see about this stubborn little box while you… freshen up.”

Twilight's frown deepened. “I appreciate the offer, but… since I'm the librarian now, and this is the library's mailbox, it's my responsibility. Besides, I’d worry about having somepony other than the intended recipient fetching the mail. There can be strict penalties for interfering with the mail, though it’s been awhile since I've studied the related ordinances.”

Rarity gave her a tense smile. “Ah, yes… well, I suppose that’s… rather… a good point, darling.”

In short order, Twilight dashed back into the library and retrieved the key from the desk where Rarity had indicated. Upon returning to the mailbox, she inserted it into the keyhole, and after a moment to catch her breath, turned it to reveal....

A letter.

It was a thick envelope made out of tough brown paper, adorned with a number of colorful blue and gold stamps and an address block written in beautiful calligraphy.

But to her disappointment, the letter wasn’t addressed to her at all.

"Rensident, Golden Oak Library." Twilight paused, squinted, and read it again. “Rensident.” The smile on her face began a slow, quivering descent into a frown. “I can’t believe this. Here a day and I’m already getting junk mail? Not only that, but junk mail with egregious typos."

She darted back inside the library, took a few moments to scribble 'Return to Sender' on the missent missive and to correct the name, before returning to the street and depositing the letter in the nearby Outgoing mailbox.

"There we go. ‘Check Mail,’ complete," said Twilight while she marked it off her list. "Rarity, did you—"

Unfortunately, her new-found friend was nowhere to be found.

✉ ~ Day Two ~ ✉

“Oh! Hello, Rarity.” Twilight Sparkle smiled at her friend while holding the mailbox key in her magic. “The key was right where you said it was. I’m glad I had a friend in Ponyville to help me find it or I would have never gotten the mailbox open yesterday.”

Without a crowbar.

“Ahh, yes.” Rarity smiled back, although she was breathing heavily from her rapid trot to the library. “About that…”

“I’ve never run a whole library by myself,” continued Twilight while opening up the mailbox. “I was just an Assistant Researcher at the castle even though I was Princess Celestia’s student. Spike actually handled most of the book reshelv—”

She stopped, looking in disbelief at the solitary letter in the mailbox. As before, it was a heavy brown envelope with blue and gold stamps—a few more⁽***⁾ than last time—and a neat, yet somehow irritated-looking, script, which had crossed out Twilight's correct corrections and re-written the incorrect name, as well as an admonition to “Deliver as addressed,” on what little blank space remained.

(***) Of course, returned or misaddressed mail was automatically sent express at the postal service’s expense, because to have somepony's mail caught in the system for weeks or months due to a clerical error would be terrible customer service.

“What is it, Twilight?” Rarity peeked over Twilight Sparkle’s shoulder. “Ooo, something all the way from the Cartazonon Empire? How exotic! …May I have it for Sweetie Belle’s stamp collection?”

“No,” said Twilight a little more firmly than she had meant to. “There is no ‘Rensident’ at this address. It needs to be returned so they can correct their records. Excuse me a moment.”

This time, Twilight marked out the incorrect correction and used her best hornwriting to write ‘Return to Sender, No Such Addressee’ in large, impossible to misunderstand letters. She trotted over to the Outgoing mailbox on the street and placed the letter inside, listening to it thump when it hit the bottom of the bin.

“And good riddance,” she muttered.

✉ ~ Day Three ~ ✉

“This time there must be a letter for me,” said Twilight with a happy smile. “Maybe my parents will write, or I’ll get a note from Shining Armor!”

Twilight opened the front door of the library on her way outside and almost ran straight into Rarity again.

“O’h, Dwi’light. Zo ni’ce to ‘ee you ag’n.” Rarity smiled, which looked a little peculiar due to the thin metal object gripped in her teeth.

“Why do you have a hairpin in your mouth?” asked Twilight Sparkle. It was probably the last question she thought she would ever ask in the small town, but there were a lot of things which worked differently here than in Canterlot, even if one were to discount Pinkie Pie.

“Oh, ‘is?” Rarity floated the hairpin out of her mouth with her magic, as well as a half-dozen others from the general vicinity. They made a little cloud, which really showed off the control that Rarity had over her magic. “I was… thinking about experimenting with different manestyles. For you. This morning.”

Twilight struggled for words. “That’s… very generous, of course, but I’ve got a full day planned,” she said, brandishing her list like an appropriate metaphor. “And I’d really like to start it by checking my mail.” She paused, waiting for Rarity to move. “Please,” she said at length.

“Well… you realize, of course, that…” Rarity’s eyes darted to the mailbox, then back to Twilight. “Ah, that is… the new… Fall styles…?”

Twilight cleared her throat and looked down at her daily checklist. “Well, all right, I suppose I can move my three o’clock book pre-re-indexing planning meeting with Spike to noon, if we make it a working lunch. Does that work for you?”

“Ah. Yes. Three o’clock… y... yes. Definitely.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Rarity, is everything alright?”

Rarity’s eye twitched. “Why, of course, darling! Whatever would make you think otherwise?”

“I… I’m sorry. Maybe it’s nothing…” Twilight gradually pushed herself through the small gap between the still-unmoving Rarity and the door. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give it due consideration, right after… I check my…”

She popped free, trotted the few steps to the mailbox, inserted the key, turned it—

“Oh, ponyfeathers,” Twilight cursed, levitating out the same brown envelope as before, which was now festooned with blue and gold stamps, and which bore a hoof-written note taped to the back. She read the note aloud:

Cartazonon Imperial Postal Service
To: Rensident, Golden Oak Library, Ponyville, Equestria
Attn: Postmaster, Ponyville Municipal Post Office, Ponyville, Equestria
DeliverAsAddressed. Further re-delivery will be subject to abuse investigation as per Elite Mail Delivery Service, Case #42643.

Twilight scoffed at the letter, and looked up at Rarity, who was doing a small, nervous dance, which Twilight mentally associated with an urgently impending morning constitutional. “Rarity, are you sure you don’t need…?”

“May I see the letter?!” Rarity blurted.

Twilight looked at it askance. “I don’t know… I just can’t understand why they insist on not correcting the obvious typo in the recipient’s name! Am I just supposed to ignore that, as if proper spelling in a letter’s address block doesn’t count for anything? And after an official review by their postal service, no less!”

Rarity chewed her lip in a most unladylike fashion. “Yes. I see how that could be vexing. Tell you what, why don’t you let me—”

“But then again,” Twilight interrupted, “I suppose their postal service has gone to some lengths to make it clear that the intent is for somepony who resides here to receive this.” She paused, frowning. “It would probably be worse to go against their official stated guidance than to risk a possible offense by having an actual ‘resident’ open a letter intended for some hypothetical, unlikely ‘Rensident…’”

“Yes, yes,” Rarity said, prancing closer. “But, are you certain that I couldn’t just—”

Twilight tore the envelope’s edge with her magic, floated out the folded sheets of parchment inside, and opened them.

She spent a moment staring at the text that assailed her, blinking, totally nonplussed. Then she turned it around, holding up the large, bold headline for Rarity to see:

Add 2 Inches to your H0rn With This One Old Trick!

“Ehe. Ehehehe.” Rarity’s poor mimicry of laughter was almost as disconcerting as the letter itself.

Twilight swallowed hard, and began to tremble. “This is fraudulent! I’ve heard of this kind of thing before. They promise you something that’s too good to be true, and often downright prurient... the postal codes refer to it as a ‘Suspected Postal Abuse Mailing,’ or SPAM for short. And it’s illegal! At least in Equestria…”

“But… of course it might not be too good to be true,” Rarity said, attempting to keep her tone even.

“No, they’re just making medical claims about a useless product. I mean, everypony knows you can't use—” Twilight looked at the advertisement. “—proven alchemic mixes of... hm…”

Rarity craned her neck toward the page.

“I suppose it could be theoretically plausible,” Twilight said. “But the medicinal value of this treatment couldn’t have been independently verified. Last I checked, the Equestrian Drug Administration doesn’t share research with their Cartazonon counterparts.”

“Yes, but… surely its purveyors in the Empire might know… many ancient secrets, and the like?”

Twilight’s frown grew deeper. She shook her head. “No, this sort of thing never works out. This is bald-faced SPAM if I ever saw it, and I am going to give somepony a piece of my mind for going to such lengths to help distribute it!”

One sternly-worded note later, Twilight returned the resealed and stamp-slathered envelope to the Outgoing box. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Well Rarity, I suppose now that we’ve gotten to the bottom of this, maybe we could talk about moving up that three o’clock—”

But once again, Rarity was gone.

“How does she keep doing that?” Twilight muttered to herself.

✉ ~ Day Four ~ ✉

Twilight Sparkle snapped awake to a loud, rapid hammering on the library door. At first she wondered if Spike was up to something, but a quick peek outside the covers showed the little dragon was still curled up in his basket and snoring almost loudly enough to drown out the racket below.

The pounding continued. “Did she actually come back with a hammer this time?” Twilight asked groggily.

She rolled out of bed and shuffled down the stairs at a greatly diminished speed. The knocking abated for a few moments, and was replaced by a sudden, sharp outburst of, “Rensident! We know you're in there!”

Twilight unlocked the door and opened it, squinting into the morning sunrise. She expected to see Rarity with a hammer, or perhaps a crowbar, but instead she found herself face-to-face with a—

"Bat pony!!" she cried. "Wait… bat pony?"

The mare in question had a light grey coat, a spiky two-toned white and light-blue mane beneath a tall blue cap, and, of course, leathery wings, which were folded just above her heavy-looking saddlebags. She was flanked by two armored white pegasi with long spears; clearly Equestrian royal guards.

She also had a deep scowl on her face and her ears were flattened back, most probably from Twilight's involuntary outburst.

Twilight bit her lip and brushed a stray lock of mane out of her eyes. “Er, I’m… sorry. I’ve never actually met a… ah…”

“My name is Night Post, assistant division leader for the Cartazonon Elite Mail Delivery Service,” snapped the newcomer in a clipped tone just one degree short of a blizzard. “Though I do suppose Bat Pony is snappier.”

“Ah. Er, sorry. How can I…?”

Twilight knew it was coming. After all, it had to be coming, given the circumstances. Still, she felt the color draining out of her face as Night Post slowly reached into her saddlebag, produced the familiar letter, and pressed it directly onto Twilight’s nose. Key changes since Twilight had last seen it included more stamps upon the already thick layer of stamps coating its exterior, as well as a precarious sheaf of red-inked and officially-stamped note papers that seemed to cling to it for dear life via a desperately overtaxed paperclip. Also, for some reason it smelled vaguely like cinnamon, bananas, and office desperation.

“You are hereby served with a citation—”

“Witnessed,” said the guards.

“—and your mail. Sign here. And here. Initial here, here and here. Full legal signature here. Hoofprint here. And once more for the copy. Sign and date of birth here to signify all previous signatures are valid. And once more here."

“No, but—” Twilight lit her horn and moved the mass of paper to a comfortable viewing distance. “You’re… fining me?!”

Night Post nodded tersely. “Consider yourself fortunate. Propagating slander through the postal system carries stiff penalties in the Cartazonon Empire, but the Royal Personage is feeling indulgent toward Equestria now, given our beloved Princess Luna’s return.”

Twilight looked through the papers again, trying to find her words. “But… what I said was factual. There can’t possibly have been independent verification of this treatment’s medicinal value!”

“Stubborn sun-pony,” Night Post muttered. “You couldn’t even bother to test it yourself, yet you claim to care so much about that. And of course you would have to do the test, because your government wouldn’t recognize the value of anything that our benighted nation would produce. Y’know, because we’re all just bat ponies.”

“N… no! I didn’t mean—”

“Enough!” Night Post stamped a hoof. “You will pay the citation and accept the letter, or I will report back about your refusal. These guards prevent me from doing more, but rest assured, I won’t be Equestria’s last bat pony visitor if you continue to escalate this situation.”

Twilight fumbled about her person for a bag of bits that wasn’t there. “Well… all right, but… but I’m really not named ‘Rensident!’”

“I thought you’d try to say that.” Night Post reached back into her saddlebag and produced a filled-out postcard. Twilight took it in her magic and examined it.

There, right in the middle of it, just beneath the order information for the horn-lengthening treatment itself, stood the offending typo.

In a familiar, elegant script.

Twilight’s eyes went wide, and all became clear. She threw her head back and bellowed to the sky:

“RARITY!!!”

✉ ~ Day Five ~ ✉

It was a bright and sunny morning in Ponyville. Birds were singing. Butterflies drifted by in the breeze. And Twilight Sparkle was walking through town, wearing a sock on her horn.

"Mornin' Twi." Applejack eyed the suspicious cloth object on Twilight Sparkle's horn, but did not simply restrain herself to a look. "What in tarnation do you got on yer horn there, sugarcube?"

"A medical substance restraining device." Twilight looked up, somewhat crosseyed. "It's supposed to blend in with my colors and be practically invisible."

"I see." Applejack considered the sock. "So it's not supposed to be fluorescent green?"

Twilight looked up again. “Hmm... no, but thank you for pointing that out. Other than a few minor quirks like that, my trial of the formula is going surprisingly well. Those Cartazonons really know their stuff!”

Applejack frowned. “Sugarcube, I didn’t figure you for the type to fall for one o’them crazy mail-scams.”

“Oh, it’s not a scam! I confirmed a full two micrometers of growth from last night to this morning!”

“Uh-huh. Well, I… ah…” Applejack looked around, clearly uncomfortable. “I reckon I gotta… go harvest, or plant something?”

Twilight beamed. “Sounds great! And pretty soon I might be trying all kinds of other Cartazonon folk remedies as well. Horns may not be all they can make grow!”

Applejack blinked, and started backing away silently.

Twilight continued her stroll through town, eventually making her way to the spa, where she had an appointment.

“Sorry I’m late,” Twilight said, pushing through the door to the steam room. “For some reason, ponies keep stopping me to ask about the trial I’m conducting.”

“Twilight, darling.” Rarity shifted positions on the wooden bench of the steam room, sounding a little muffled from the hot towel over her face. “Thank you for joining me. I’m so dreadfully sorry about all the recent difficulties. If you’d let me know how much the fine was…”

“It’s all right.” Twilight sighed. “I just wish you’d told me what was going on, though. So much could’ve been avoided with a little bit more openness.”

Rarity was silent for a moment. “Well, all right, then. In that spirit… Twilight, you don’t think my horn is unfashionably short, do you?”

It took a while for Twilight to respond because there were so many different ways she could reassure her friend, from statistical analysis to psychological references. Somehow, they all seemed wrong, though.

“Rarity?” she asked on impulse. “How many times a month do you have your horn filed at the spa?”

“Not more than once a… well, sometimes twice every…” The faint blue of Rarity’s magic lifted the hot towel off her face just enough to make eye contact with her friend and the awkward sock she was still wearing over her horn. Rarity blinked several times, her eyes traveling from Twilight’s face and up to her sock-covered horn and back again before she ventured a cautious, “Now that you mention it, that could be an issue.”

Twilight crossed her eyes and looked up at the sock covering her horn. “I’ve never really thought about my own horn, if it’s too long or too short, so it’s difficult for me to see your problem through my eyes. But thinking about anything too much can make a pony act different. I mean, I was so focused on wanting to get my own mail that I ignored the possibility that the letter I received was actually for somepony else.”

“Oh, good.” Rarity let the hot towel back down over her face. “I was afraid you were just going to call me silly.”

The steam room was silent for a while after that, other than the sizzle of water dropping onto the hot stones.

"One thing still doesn’t make sense to me, though," Twilight added.

It took a little longer for Rarity to lift the towel from over her eyes and look back in Twilight's direction. "Yes?"

"How could you misspell 'Resident?'"

Rarity fixed her friend with the most mournful expression she could manage. "Ahem. Yes, well… surely we needn’t write a letter to Princess Celestia about this, hm? I'd hate to think I’m being graded on my spelling."

"Well, I thought..." Twilight considered her new friend with a growing smile. “I suppose it was all a bit silly, after all. And Princess Celestia probably doesn’t need to know about every embarrassing thing that happens in Ponyville.”

"Of course not," Rarity said, smiling. “And perhaps, in that spirit, nopony needs to tell her how obsessed you became about that letter as well?”

“Deal.”

Author's Note

Night Post and the Cartazonon Empire are creations of pretty-pegasus-wings, for whom this story was written. Hopefully Georg and I didn’t mangle them too badly! :heart: