So, yeah.
Wyatt sat on a wooden stool in his closet while he read a newspaper. The light barely illuminated the entire room as he turned the page to read the weather report. “Ah, joy, it's supposed to rain on my niece's wedding,” he grumbled to himself. “I can't wait to sit outside and watch a scene straight out of a shitty romance-”
Knock, knock, knock
Wyatt let out an annoyed sigh and placed his newspaper on a nearby box. “Come in,” he said in a unenthusiastic tone.
The door swung open to reveal Mister Saladeen, who was visibly shaken and had a nervous look on his face. “Um, hey, Wyatt,” he said as he entered the closet. “I need some help—fast.”
“Let me guess: you didn't pay your taxes on time,” Wyatt said. “If that's the case, you don't pay me enough to have me help you with math.”
“Okay, one, I pay you two bits an hour,” Saladeen said with a look of indignation. “Second, I need help with my timber wolf pup. He seems to have a cubicle on him, and I wanted to see if you could perhaps remove it.”
Wyatt’s eyes shot open. “Wait, what!?”
“I was playing with him while Frank and another pony near the water machine were talking when I noticed something on my pups stomach,” Saladeen said. “When I looked closer. I noticed it was a cubicle!”
Wyatt stared blankly at his boss for a few seconds before he shook his head. “Mister Saladeen,” he said as he held back laughter, “have you been sniffing glue again?”
“No!” Mister Saladeen said. “At least, not in the past week, but that's besides the point!”
“Fine, why didn't you go bring your pup to an actual vet?” Wyatt asked with a frown. “Why'd you come to me first?”
“Uh, well, other employees say you're really helpful,” Saladeen said. “So, I figured I'd come here?”
“By 'helpful’, they mean I tell them the blunt truth,” Wyatt said. “And, in your case, I'd say to go see a vet and get the fuck out of my closet so I can read about how some idiot in Canterlot tried to mug Soarin!”
“Wyatt, this is serious!” Saladeen insisted. “Like, more serious than when I was almost arrested for hit and run!”
Wyatt stood up and slapped his boss across the face. “I'm not a licensed vet you glue sniffing, underpaying, royal guard bribing dumbass!”
“Hey, that second one is a lie!” Saladeen snapped. “I overpay you!”
“Saladeen, I should drive a screwdriver through your throat, but I have too much dignity to do so,” Wyatt said. “Now, considering that you won't leave me alone, how about you explain to me the situation at hoof before I reconsider what I just said.”
“Okay, so, I heard some commotion from outside my office, but I figured it was just the sounds of Perry getting pissed at the copy machine,” Saladeen said. “A few moments later, i went to pet my timber wolf pup and saw something on its stomach. Naturally, like any sensible stallion, I screamed like a filly and ran here.”
“Okay, first of all, don't use the word 'sensible’ in relation to yourself,” Wyatt said. “You're less sensible than my father in law, and he thinks that Celestia is a mermaid. Second of all, has your pup acted sick whatsoever prior to finding this cubicle?”
“Actually, now that you mean it, no! He hasn't.”
“So, why are you nervous?”
Saladeen grabbed his employee and violently shook him. “It's a cubicle you idiot!” he yelled Why do you think I'm nervous!?”
“Because you're a lunatic and were hallucinating—or simply mistook some wood that your pup might be shedding for a frigging cubicle,” Wyatt said. “Now, leave my closet!”
“No, I'm one hundred percent sure that this is a cubicle!” Saladeen protested. “I know when a timber wolf is shedding, and this isn't it! They don't shed twigs—or feathers!”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, wait!” he said as he held a hoof out. “Did you just say 'feathers’?”
“Yes, I've seen feathers fall from my pup,” he said. “Like, they'll just fall to the ground at random times.”
“Yeah, now I'm sure you've been sniffing glue again,” Wyatt said as he threw his forelegs into the air. “That, or you've officially lost your mind.”
“Can it, Wyatt,” Saladeen said as he narrowed his gaze. “I’m serious.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Fine, have you bothered to check where they’ve been coming from on your pup?” he asked. “Because that might help you figure out why. Of course, knowing you, you probably use them to decorate your mustache.”
“Okay, shut up,” Saladeen growled. “I used them to make a beard, but that's besides the point! I figured that some might've fallen into him while he played outside. It wasn't until now that I checked and I found the odd growth!”
“Okay, first of all, the fact you made a beard out of feathers is stupid,” Wyatt said. “Second of all, putting aside your stupid feather-beard, you still sound really crazy to me.”
Saladeen’s right eye twitched. “Look, how about I bring my pup here, and you can take a look at it?” he asked. “Maybe you can figure out what it is.”
“I'm not a veterinarian,” Wyatt said, “but fine. Besides, you'll probably do it, regardless of my answer.”
Without a word, Mister Saladeen ran out of the closet and ran towards his office.
Wyatt let put a sigh and sat back down on his stool. I seriously need to find another place to work at, he thought as he waited for his boss to return.
A few moments later, the closet door swung open, and Mister Saladeen gently placed his pet bear Wyatt, who looked at it. “Okay, you said it was on the stomach?”
“Yes,” Saladeen said. “It’s right there,” he said as he pointed to the pups stomach.
Wyatt craned neck down as he looked at the pup—who stared up Wyatt with a large smile—and raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, on the pups stomach was what appeared to be a cubicle, complete with a desk, chair, and computer However, there were also feathers and eggshells. Wyatt's horn glowed a dark purple as the strange growth was loosened and removed from the pup. “Mister Saladeen, that wasn't a cubicle,” he said as he placed the object in front of his boss. “That was a bird's nest.”
“Oh,” Saladeen said as he looked at the nest. “I guess that explains why I kept hearing tweeting around the house.”
Wyatt facehoofed. “You have got to be the single dumbest pony I've ever met in my forty eight years on this planet,” he deadpanned. “And I worked as tech support for Marecrosoft for seven years.”
“Isn’t your cutie mark of a mop?” Saladeen asked. “Why did you work at tech support?”
“I worked as a janitor there,” Wyatt said. “But I occasionally took over for some of the workers because I'm pretty good with computers.”
“Oh, had I known this, I would've had you work as maintenance here instead of that idiot we have now,” Saladeen said. “Oh well, too late now.”
“Saladeen, you realize that idiot is your son, right?”
“Yup.”
“You don't care, do you?”
“Nope.”
“I'm so telling him.”
“Do so, and I'll fire you,” Saladeen said as he placed his pup onto his back. “Oh, by the way, Frank killed Perry earlier. You might want to come clean up the mess. The stench is starting to get to the other employees.”
“Wait, that idiot actually got killed by Frank?” Wyatt asked, shocked.
“Yup,” Saladeen replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Eh, no reason,” Wyatt asked as he grabbed his various supplies. “Just curious is all.”
“Alright,” Saladeen said as he left the closet and made his way towards his office.
Hmm… Wyatt levitated down some disinfectant and placed it in a cart. Maybe I can get that bitch secretary to try and fight Frank.