Chapter 13: Lemon Zest… run. Just run.
Paper Weight is giving me a royal chewing out about the last couple of days. Well, to be honest it’s not really me, he just needs somepony to stand there and look sad while he yells a lot. This happens more often than you think. I’m pretty good at it.
“And why did they even call you up there to being with?! You’re a bloody mailpony! You don’t even TALK to the clients!” he yells, not even at me. He’s just pacing back and forth in the mail room while I sort today’s deliveries with a fake frowny face. I actually agree with like, all the things he’s saying right now, but he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s built up steam like this. He prefers to wear himself out. Not to mention he’s more productive when he’s mad. The guy’s zipping through the outgoing sorting piles like a freakin’ wizard. A space wizard or something.
“Who in their right mind would even let you work with the clients?! You’d probably run them over, AGAIN!” *Scribble scribble FWIP* goes an envelope. Then another. “And why the Tartarus did Princess Twilight even come down here?! What part of ‘This is the MAILROOM’ does nopony understand?!” *Scribble scribble FWIP* “And another thing-” *Scribble scribble FWIP*
Then there’s a knock on the door. Which, on top of being horrible timing, is relatively uncommon. Most ponies in our office try to stay away from our mailroom. Actually, mailrooms in general across Equestria seem to share the common trait of being wildly avoided by most ponies.
“WHAT?!” *Scribble scribble FWIP*
The door opens, and our boss walks in. Which, to most anypony else, would result in them stopping anything their doing and trying not to get fired.
Not Paper Weight. “The buck do you want, old hag?” *Scribble scribble FWIP*
“Nice to see you too, Paper Weight. Now, While I can see you’re busy, and have quite a productive bad mood going-” *Scribble scribble FWIP* “-I have something rather important that requires both your and Miss Zest’s attention.”
PW glares at me. “I DID NOTHING!”
Cinch nods, and coughs into her hoof. “Correct. This is not a disciplinary interaction.” Oh Celestia. I hate that phrase. Somepony had made the mistake years ago of getting Cinch a productivity manual for her birthday as a gag gift. She took it seriously. Now we don’t have “punishments” or “disciplinary hearings”. Everything is a “disciplinary interaction”, which ranges from getting yelled at to straight up getting fired. She continues, “As you are aware, The Canterlot Reformation, Reintegration, and Parole Office offers a job-placement service to certain clients who… qualify. As part of this service, we offer job-training and temporary employment. As it happens, one of our newest clients has taken a keen interest in this offer, and as such I have brought her here to work in your department.”
*Scribble scribble FWIP* “Excuse me?!”
Hoh boy. This can’t be good. Please don’t be the cheery one please don’t be the cheery one please-
“Hi guys!” Out jumps a bright blue pegasus with a giant grin. DAMMIT
“...and who are you?” Paper Weight asks. *Scribble scribble FWIP*
“My name’s Sontata! I’m the new mailpony!” she answers excitedly. “This is gonna be the best job for realzies, I can tell!”
*Scribble scrib-* “I’m sorry what?”
Cinch looks down at Sonata, then at us, her expression unchanging. Like usual. “Miss Sonata here is taking her reformation very… ‘for serious’… as she puts it. I expect you to treat her as well as we treat all of our clients. Also, don’t let her get eaten. That’s not a form I enjoy filling out,” she adds, then leaves quickly, slamming the door behind her.
Sonata takes a second to catch up to that last sentence. “Wait, what?”
I shrug, leaning into the cart I’m sorting, as the last few envelopes are near the bottom. “Yeah, that happened. Like, once, I think. Once since I’ve been here, anyway.”
When I resurface, she’s still smiling, although now it’s a bit of a nervous smile, and she’s looking between me and Paper Weight like she’s expecting one of us to start laughing. “Oh… kay. So, where do I start?”
Paper Weight goes back to sorting. I think he’s on his second cart. “You don’t.” When Sonata looks like she’s gonna whimper or cry or something, he sighs, and continues. “I mean, you don’t start yet. All the morning stuff is for ponies who know the sorting system. I can’t realistically give you anything to do at your skill level for another hour or so. Although, when Zest finishes sorting her cart, you can follow her while she delivers.”
I give my boss a look that says Oh please Celestia NO.
The look I get in return says Celestia YES.
My head droops as I sigh heavily, then reach into the cart for the last few bits of mail. Dropping them into the appropriate boxes, I start bundling them all together.
Then I hear somepony breathing, right next to me. I turn, and almost jump out of my skin as Sonata is all up in my business. “Whatcha doing?”
“Uh...” I glance at PW, who just shrugs. “I’m puttin’ all the mail together by office? So it doesn’t get all mixed up?”
“Okay!” she chirps. Not moving.
I pause for a second, my personal space disappearing by the second. “Um, why don’t you… go sit down in that chair over there until I’m done. I’ll be like, five minutes, tops.”
She raises a suspicious eyebrow. “You sure?”
“...totes.”
“Right-o!” she cheers again, and zips over to the chair.
It’s the slowest five minutes of my life.
-------------------
“So, what office are we going to first?” Sonata asks, as we crowd onto the elevator.
I push a button on the panel. “Well, first is the Cages,” I explain.
She gasps loudly. “Cages?! You lock ponies up in here?!”
I shake my head and waive my hooves defensively. “No, no way! That’s just like, a nickname for the Parole Office!”
“Oh, ok,” she says, quickly shifting gears back to that smiling, patient pose. She’s so weird.
The Cages are near the top of the building, so it takes a while to get there. “Hey, why don’t we do all these other floors first?” Sonata asks.
Finally, an intelligent question. “Because the Parole Office is the first one open. After we deliver their stuff, the rest should be either open or halfway there, so we work floor by floor on the way back down. The very top office is the executive stuff, and we don’t have access. They pick up their mail from a special mailbox, or from us personally.”
“Right-o!” she salutes. Somehow, and as if on cue, the elevator shudders just as she puts her hoof down. “Um… is that supposed to happen?”
It shakes a little, but keeps moving. “Eh, it’s old. Does that like, once a week. Usually nothing to worry ab-” BYOOoooo…. The elevator stops and goes dark. “...well, dammit.”
Sonata starts to panic. “What?! We’re trapped?! What if the elevator falls?! WHO’S GOING TO SAVE US?! HELLLP!”
“Will you shut up?!” I growl. She goes quiet with a quick “eep” and huddles in the corner. So now I feel bad. I take a deep breath, and add, “Ok, sorry I yelled. Look, it’s not a big deal. We’re stuck in a big metal box, sure. But there’s plenty of ventilation, lots of security measure thingies, and even in the worst-case scenario we’re in a big tower filled with all kinds of unicorns and pegasi who could probably just fly up the shaft and push us to safety. We’re gonna be fine.”
She takes a few shallow breaths, then one deep one. “Ok, ok, you’re right. Getting all panicky is super bad for realzies.”
“Right,” I agree, with a nod and smile. That I’m not sure she can see.
“Hey, you wanna sing songs till they rescue us? I AM ORNERY THE EIGHTH I AM-”
I start pounding on the elevator door. “HHHHEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLP!”
Second verse, same as the first!
So... what ate that client, anyway? I'm going to guess another client.
Poor Lemon! Sonata means well, but...!
Stuck in an elevator? It's so not a problem.
8440807
Didn't we just cover that with the 'Minotacos' thing? >.>
8440852
At least it's 'sonata' her fault,
8440807
My thought was the mail... >.>
thank Celestia it wasn't "the song that doesn't ends" from lamb chops or Lemon would have been in real trouble
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4ztfrr8fls&index=1&list=PLicvoM2gZCEon4mE7mJxDZ95urKdLEO6g
8440807 Someone had the brilliant idea of preventing timberwolves from reforming by converting the raw material into another form, with disastrous consequences. They say even now the paperpups lurk the cellars of Canterlot's bureaucracy, preying on the unsuspecting and leaving unmentionable stains on all the Schedule 39s.
8440790
Little bit LOUDER and a little bit WORSE!
8440882
Headcanon accepted, adopted, and written into my will.
8440882
Paper isnt that different to grass for a cellulosic digesting herbivore. After all, its been so heavily preprocessed it should almost be classed as fast food.
Theres also the classic. Infinity of cider bottles on the wall.
The old rockmining favourite. Gold.
And of course, the barraking rolliking classic. Spam.
Dont forget the complete unabridge Pirate Shanty Collection.
And Operas.
8441054
What's your favourite part of "Gold"? The chorus or one of the verses? My favourite is the part that goes "Gold! Gold! Gold!".