Arthor2017 owns a lifetime supply of ketchup.

Rarity stared at the splotch of red on Pinkie's plate. "Is that ketchup, darling?"

"No," Pinkie's mane deflated as she turned her head, an audible crackling emanating from her neck. "It's blood!"

Rarity was about to gasp, but the rapid and explosively violent re-inflation of Pinkie's mane launched her through the window of the restaurant.

"Just kidding, it's ketchup!"

"What."

"What?"

What.