//------------------------------//
// Rambling Writer's Opportunity at the Door (FoME's "Lost Faculty") 
// Story: Never the Final Word (Vol. 2) 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//



"Don't we have more faculty than that?" said Trixie. "Sweepy Belle, Scuttle Loom, and Apollo?"

Starlight gave her a flat look. "They are literal foals, Trixie."



"OH NO SHE DIDN'T!"

Scuttle Loom was approaching her late sixties, and yet it was only Sweepy Belle's supreme earth pony strength, remarkable grip on her tail, and some incredible anchoring that kept her from charging into the headmare's office, slapping Starlight silly, and punching her into next week (literally, thanks to a time travel spell). And she was still digging at the floor strong enough to leave gouges in the crystal with her bare hooves.

"DOES SHE HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO HAUL AN ENTIRE LOOM ACROSS EQUESTRIA?!" roared Scuttle. Her voice hadn't diminished in the slightest in her old age. "IT HAS DIRT IN PLACES YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE! I ONLY DID IT AT PRINCESS TWILIGHT'S REQUEST! I AM GOING TO KILL THAT STOT!"

"Fcuvvuh, yuh muh tuh cuh duh," opined Sweepy around the tail in her mouth.

"AND THEN I'M GOING TO LEARN NECROMANCY SO I CAN BRING HER BACK TO LIFE SO I CAN KILL HER AGAIN! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN!" Scuttle's horn buzzed like a swarm of angry hornets and light bent around it in peculiar ways.

"Upuu'u, Uh muh suh huh," said Sweepy.

"Yes, some angry rants aren't worth watching," said the Greek god. A small fraction of divine power, and Scuttle's strength and magic left her. She slumped limply to the ground as her horn winked out. She was still vocal, unfortunately.

"I'm not a foal! I'm more than twice as old as her! I was going to teach Loyalty!" Scuttle screeched. "And she turns me down because of a clerical error she can check with her eyes! You think I brought that loom here for fun?! I had a perfect metaphor of how threads reinforce each other, and- I AM GOING TO LEARN PLANESWALKING! I AM GOING TO LEARN PLANESWALKING SO—"

"Scuttle, we're all disappointed," said Sweepy. "That doesn't mean murder is the answer."

"—I CAN GO TO ANOTHER DIMENSION AND SUMMON HER THERE AND—"

"She's gone past murder," said Apollo. "And if she must overreact, I approve; problem-solving via murder is so banal and cliche."

"—LEAVE HER TRAPPED THERE FOREVER!" Scuttle banged her hooves on the ground one last time, panting heavily.

"Scuttle, Apollo came here from another world after Princess Twilight jumped through all sorts of hoops to get him, and you don't see him complaining about being called a foal."

"I might've come to this realm anyway," admitted Apollo. "My father's powers are largely good for shapeshifting bestiality. You can imagine the awkwardness when he brings home his latest one-night stand. Every day. For centuries."

Sweepy tilted her head, her ears twitching like gears were pushing them. "...Not really, no."

Scuttle and Apollo both inched away from Sweepy.

"I mean, really," Sweepy said with a shrug, "if—"

"Perhaps we should go inside anyway?" Apollo said hastily. He pointed at the door. "Perhaps our letters simply got lost in the post."

"No," snapped Scuttle. Still lying on the ground, she pointed angrily at the door. "I am not going to work for somepony who can't even double-check her applicants. Did she learn her managerial skills from a sunblasted blender?"

"Very well," said Apollo. "I can understand that sentiment, at least. Then shall we find something to do? This is quite the lovely little town."

"I saw a bakery on the way in," said Sweepy. "Let's get cupcakes." She leaned over to look Scuttle in the eye. "You wanna get some cupcakes?"

Scuttle sighed and stared at the ceiling. If looks could kill, the school would've been a radioactive wasteland by now. Then she said, "Yeah."