Our story begins, as with most, with a sad little filly, and unlike most, ours begins at a Canterlot casino. You see, poor little Roseluck was trying her best to win the jackpot of one of her favorite slot machines. A waiter had given Roseluck her third complimentary beverage when he thought on the mare’s poor lottery performance.
“I guess you’re just out of… Rose’luck’!” he told her.
A few of the ponies at other slot machines began to giggle. Roseluck’s pale face shimmered a deep red as she ran from the casino. She only stopped to sob on the train ride home. Tears matted her coat.
“How c-come they can make Roseluck puns so easily? B-but I c-cant’?” she cried.
Roseluck’s woes began many years ago when she was but a little filly. Her parents had no idea of the problems little Rosy dealt with at school. Such terrible interactions like so….
“Hey, Roseluck, can I borrow some crayons?” asked young colt Olive. Roseluck looked down to her crayons, having great need of them shortly.
“Sorry, Olive, but I need them right now…” she trailed off.
“Oh, I see,” Olive chided, and then addressed the whole class, “hey everypony, I guess every Rose does have a thorn.”
This was not even close to the end of Roseluck’s dilemmas. As you can see from her prom, she couldn’t even make a pun to save her life.
“So Rosy… this was a fun dance and all, but are we going to… you know?” Olive asked the shy little mare.
“Sorry Olive, but I guess you’re not getting Roselucky!” She paused, waiting for a laugh. No one laughed. “Oh boy.”
By the time the timid mare reached her first years of college life, she knew her life’s goal. That being to make puns of her own name which would cause others to laugh. Her studies focused on the English language, old poems, and famous playwrights.
Sadly, none of this helped the pony become what she truly wished… a girl who could tell a joke about her own name in a way that would cause merriment and mirth. These failures led to the mare we see today, a mare that cries on the train ride to her modest home in Ponyville. Here she is now, lounging on a couch she bought a few years back on a rather good deal.
“Hey, do you have change for a rose buck?” she asked the air. “Hah... no… that won’t do.” Roseluck flipped over onto her stomach and grumbled. “Stupid puns.”
Roseluck thought deeply for a second. Who knows a lot about words and word-play, she wondered. Mentally she went through a list, yet only one name stood out to her. Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville librarian. She leapt off her couch and grabbed her scarf. She may be in a hurry, but it would be foolish to forgo the proper protection in an Equestrian winter.
She met only one pony on the way to the library that night. A stallion well known to her, for that stallion was… Olive! As she passed, he said loud enough for her to hear, “I keep running into things! I must have bad… nose luck!” He chuckled at his own pun.
Roseluck stopped. She was tired of this foolish colt’s jokes. “Olive, give it a rest!” she demanded as she faced him.
“Why? It’s funny!” he chided her.
Rose huffed, “perhaps it’s not funny for me. I can’t make those jokes Olive and it really hurts me that everyone else can.”
Olive trotted over and put a hoof around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rose. I never knew you felt that way. If you had told us earlier… I… I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well fuck you too, Olive.”
“Rose, look,” Olive started only realizing too late what he had done.
“Aaaaaagh!” Roseluck frothed and leapt at the stallion. Luckily the stallion was several times bigger than the gardener and was able to easily fend her off.
After a few minutes of feeble attempts at what the mare considered an attack, she stopped and breathed heavily.
“I got you good, didn’t I?” she asked.
“Yup,” Olive lied.
Roseluck beamed. “I’m on my way to the library, bye Olive.”
Rose galloped through Ponyville, hell bent on getting to that library before it closed.
She got there just as Twilight was putting away some of the last books.
“Hey there… uh, I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name,” she said awkwardly. Spike who was sleeping upstairs dreamt vaguely of a fine Italian dinner.
“I’m Roseluck, Twilight, sheesh. I gave you those roses remember?”
“Oh yes,” Twilight responded. “Now what can I help you with?”
Roseluck scuffed a hoof across the wooden library floor. “This is kind of embarrassing, Twilight.”
Twilight grew concerned. This wouldn’t be the first time a mare came into her library late at night and confessed their love to her. “I see,” she said cautiously.
“Yes… Twilight, I-“ Roseluck began.
Twilight cut her off, “Now now, uh, Roseluck. I’m really not into this sort of thing.”
“But you’re my only hope!”
“Roseluck I barely know you and this is so sudden. I simply can’t-“
“You can’t help me with puns?” Rose asked quickly.
“Oh, puns… yessss…. I can help with that. I got my masters in linguistics.”
“Yay! I need this so much Twilight, you see, everyone’s making puns out of my name and I can’t do that at all. If you could just find it within yourself to help me, that’d be great!”
Twilight looked to her bookcase and retrieved a hefty tome with the aid of her magic. “Well you came to the right place, Rose. I happen to be the Queen of Puns and many ponies find me to be quite ‘punny’!”
“Hah, I bet they do. Now what can I do?”
“You see, when I was young, my parents put me in the pun-geon! It was quite pungent. It was there I took it u’pun’ myself to become the very best in the world of puns.” Twilight looked up from the book. There was no other pony in the room.
Roseluck had left the bookish mare alone. She couldn’t find the answers to her problem with her, but maybe somewhere, someday she would. For this was her most sacred quest.
