Applejack stared at the tool in her hoof. “Dash. What's this?”

“A wrench.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow and set down the large pipe wrench, which was not going to help her put together this bookcase for Twilight's new castle. “I can see that. But it ain’t the kinda wrench I asked for.”

“AJ, I don’t know much about building stuff, but even I know you made that up.” Dash crossed her hooves and gave Applejack a suspicious look.

“I did not.”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Yeah right. There’s no such thing as an ‘all in wrench.’ Wrenches come in a bunch of types and sizes.”

Applejack gave her a flat look. “I didn’t say ‘all in wrench.’ I said Allen wrench. It’s like a little bent piece of metal ya’ use for puttin’ together stuff like this.”

Digging around in Applejack’s toolbox, Dash muttered, “I know what I heard. And I don’t see anything like that, anyway. You totally made it up.”

“Fine. I’ll find it myself.” Applejack got to her hooves and started rooting through the toolbox. “Darn things always end up at the bottom.”

Suddenly, Pinkie’s face was next to hers. “What are we looking for?”

“An Allen wrench.” Applejack carefully bit at something that looked likely, but it was just a carpenter’s nail.

“Like from outer space? That sounds super neat! I’ve never seen a space wrench. I knew a pony with a space screwdriver once, but I don’t think he had a wrench to go with it. Why do you need one? Is that a space bookshelf? For space books? Twilight has a lot of those, she--”

“Pinkie!” Applejack snapped, cutting off the bizarre stream of words. “What the hay are you talkin’ about?”

Pinkie smiled. “You said you’re looking for an alien wrench.”

“I-- that's-- no, I didn’t!” Applejack sputtered. “I said I’m lookin’ for an Allen wrench! Not an ‘all in wrench,’ not an ‘alien wrench,’ an Allen wrench.”

“Wrenches are made of metal, darling,” Rarity said casually as she strolled by, a rug floating in her magic.

Applejack glared at her. “Thank you, Rarity, for that helpful bit a’ information. Would ya’ mind tellin’ me what that’s got to do with anything?”

“You’re not going to find a linen wrench.” She spread the rug in the middle of the floor and considered it. “I wouldn’t imagine that would be useful at all, anyway.”

Applejack clenched her jaw and tried to count to ten. She got to seven before she yelled, “An. ALLEN. Wrench! Do I gotta spell it out for y’all? A-L-L-E-N! Spells Allen! Which is the kinda wrench I need to finish puttin’ together this damn bookcase!”

“You need an Allen wrench, Applejack?” Twilight asked from the pile of books she was sorting across the room. Her magic opened a desk drawer and floated the small metal object to Applejack. “Here you go!”

Letting out a deep breath, Applejack took the little tool in her teeth and got back to work on the bookcase. “Thank you, Twilight.”

“You know, I read an interesting piece of trivia about hex, or Allen wrenches,” Twilight said cheerfully. “They were invented by a crafts pony named All In, but he lost his patent and all his profits gambling. So, technically, Allen wrench is a mispronunciation!"

“Ha!” Dash crowed “I was--”

“Just shut up,” Applejack growled. “Now, I need a phillips head-- the pointy lookin’ screwdriver.”