"No no no... I mean, we surely have some coffee--for you--eh--Your Excellency." Cheerilee grinned nervously at the mare, her hoof groping in the void of the cupboard behind her.
"The name is Ms. Harshwhinny," the inspector said, her voice a mix of Manehattan accent and the speech of upper-crust Canterlot society.
"Cheerilee, a teacher intern." Cheerilee extended a hoof filthy with dust from the cupboard.
Ms. Harshwhinny gave the limb a contemptuous look. "I expected the headmaster to greet me, not... you. Where is he?"
"He is leading an excursion to the Crystal Mountains. You know what? I'll try to fetch you some coffee. Make yourself at home!" Cheerilee darted out the door, slamming them shut behind her.
"Oh, my! Is anything wrong?" Constitutie, the Social sciences teacher, rushed down the hall to the hyperventilating mare, putting a wing around her shoulder.
"Thank Celestia!" Cheerilee raised her eyes to her. "Inside the staffroom is the inspector. She's a bit grumpy, but you know your way around ponies and their behaviour, right?" She shoved the pegasus mare mercilessly through the door before she could protest and then galloped down the hall.
Cheerilee skidded to a stop before the secretary’s office, avoiding a collision with its opening door. A small filly with a tray of mugs full of steaming hot coffee in her mouth stumbled out.
"Wow, Dashie! You are a really responsible filly. Doing your aunt's job when she doesn't feel well," Cheerilee commented, patting the filly on the head and continued to the next door.
Dashie just mumbled something and walked on shaky legs to the staffroom. That tray had to be really heavy.
Cheerilee arrived at the end of the hall, knocking on the door. No answer. She waited for a while, then decided this was an emergency. She turned and bucked with all the strength she could muster.
The door flew open, revealing a small office and an unconscious tan stallion on the floor.
"Mr. Gauge? Spark?!" Cheerilee shrieked, crouching to the unmoving stallion. "What happened?! "
Remembering glimpses of her first aid courses, she started pumping her hooves on the stallion's chest with all her strength. Given her earth pony nature, it was quite a force. “Live, live, live...” she chanted.
Gauge opened his eyes with a cry, kicking the mare off.
"Miss Cheerilee? What in the name of Newton's apple are you doin'?" he croaked, rubbing his sore ribs.
"You're alive! Thank Celestia! Quick, the inspector has arrived!"
"Alive? Of course I'm alive. I just fell asleep... for a little bit... on the floor." He awkwardly tried to straighten his shirt. Cheerilee looked at him with one raised eyebrow. "Never mind that for now, another question is if I'll be alive after the inspection is done.”
Gauge headed out the door, Cheerilee in his wake.
"So you are telling me that you are not enslaving screw loose fillies?" the inspector inquired, pushing the teacher against the table.
"No, no and no!" Constitutie looked far worse for wear than ten minutes ago.
"But that sorry little one is a proof of evidence you can't deny."
Ms. Harshwhinny barely avoided Dashie flying around in tortuous laps around the staffroom.
"Please, pardon the wait, miss."
Gauge trotted into the room and to the inspector, taking her hoof in his and kissed it casually.
Ms. Harshwhinny pulled back.
"That's Ms. Harshwhinny to you. Are you the headmaster?" she groaned.
"Deputy Headmaster Spark Gauge, Headmaster Bumblebee is not here," Spark replied calmly.
"So if you are the one in charge at the moment, then I will tell you the imperfections I have already discovered. Given how many I have found in the short amount time, it's not going to be a good final score for you in all probability."
Gauge only gulped in response.
Constitutie was visibly trembling, feathers falling off her wings.
Cheerilee tried to catch the deranged pegasus filly zooming past her head.
Ms. Harshwhinny cleared her throat, looking at her notes. "You cross out the empty grids in class registers from left to right, I found out by the lines being a little thicker at one end. The newest inspection ordinance, section 734F clearly states that you should do so from right to left." She raised her eyes from the paper, glaring at the bemused deputy.
"As the school counselor told me," she took a glance at the shivering Constitutie, "you currently don't host any foreign students from Griffonstone or Zebrica. Canterlot academies are the jewels of Equestrian education and thus the best for integrating foreign students!"
"And lastly--for now--you are apparently content on using young foals to work for you and--"
Ms. Harshwhinny's monologue ended with a slight fit of cough. She reached for one of the mugs on the neglected tray--one of the mugs she refused to even look at in defiance of the alleged filly slavery. She emptied it in one full swig.
With a light hiccup, Ms. Harshwhinny continued, "And you--you are even trying to deny it," she glared at them, ears twitching. "But I, Softy Harshwhinny, promise that when I—" she hiccupped again, "when I am in charge, I'll make this a living Tartar- Tart- T- Tus- out of this for, heh, for you!"
Dead silence fell on the room as she raised her accusing hoof. The teachers stared in disbelief at her as she swayed and stumbled over her own legs. Even the filly stopped creating a tornado around the chandelier and looked in her direction.
Before Ms. Harshwhinny could hit the ground, a blanket of blue magic wrapped itself around her.
"Don't you tell me this slender mare had a cup of the strange hard coffee?" Chart stepped into the room, gently levitating the mare to his side and letting her lean on his shoulder.
"Ooh, you have a zebra here after all!" Ms. Harshwhinny hiccupped again, rubbing his striped tie.
"Hard coffee?" The two remaining mares cocked their heads. Gauge trotted to the table without a word, taking a small sip. "That's.. strong!" He shoved it away. "Not necessarily bad though."
"I got one delivered earlier. Didn't mind the new and somehow tempting flavor, but the filly that brought it looked a little disheveled. So I just came to ask what was in it and if I should be afraid..." Chart stated, trying to detach the inspector hugging his neck.
Death silence fell on the room again. Eight eyes lay on the little filly. Another two still stared at Chart's tie.
"Li'l one? What was in the coffee?" Gauge gazed at the pegasus. The filly just smiled back and half flew, half fell to the ground.
"Can you show us how did you make these pretty drinks?" Cheerilee patted the filly's head.
"T-there were the ponies in the funny white clothes," Dashie started, her words slurring slightly. "And... uh... I couldn't find the br-brown dust or the milky bottle. But I remembered that those ponies had lots and lots of bottles and dusts near the dining room. So I went there secretly like the Batmare!" she made a heroic pose, nearly falling over. "I took some sacks and bottles and started mixing. But I still couldn't find the milk, so I just mixed and mixed. There was the brown drink everywhere, so I went and got more glasses. I wanted to ask them for a permission later, I swear!" Her eyes started watering.
"It's okay, my dear!" Constitutie threw herself forward, hiding the filly in her feathery embrace. Dashie seemed slightly taken aback by the gesture, but she soon buried her head in the counselor’s wings.
"That's exactly why I don't want to teach young foals. Can somepony tell me what's going on?" Spark groaned, pawing at the ground.
"I might have an idea." Cheerilee beamed, revealing her breakfast caught in the confines of her braces.
Ms. Harshwhinny fell to the ground with a snore, dragging Chart's tie and neck with her.