On the morning of Clipper's 21st birthday, Hayworth woke him with a polite, but loud chime.
"Good morning, Clipper. I have an important message for you from Optimal Enterprises. Now that you are 21 years old, you are eligible to—"
"Ugh," Clipper said, voice muffled by his pillow. "Hayworth, it's too early for this—"
Hayworth continued as if Clipper hadn't spoken. "—join an experimental program to cure Automation-Based Delayed Development. If you would like to participate—"
Clipper looked up from his pillow, still bleary from oversleeping but vaguely aware that Hayworth was saying something actually important.
"- simply read the text on your hoofheld device aloud, which will constitute your signature and authorize Optimal Enterprises to treat you for this condition."
It took a moment more for Clipper to process what he'd heard, but when he spoke, it was with an eagerness he hadn't felt in some time. "If I do this, they can give me a cutie mark?"
"While the process is experimental, results to date have been highly successful," Hayworth said, tone as neutral as always.
That was all Clipper needed to hear; the pegasus groped at his bedside table, retrieving his PDA and squinting at the screen until the words came into focus. "'I, Clipper, do hereby authorize Optimal Enterprises to enroll me in the Satisfaction Program and to take whatever measures are necessary to cure my ABDD and provide me with a cutie mark,'" he read. "So now what?"
Hayworth didn't answer. Clipper's bedroom door sliding open, revealing two severe-looking ponies in matching OE jumpsuits, was answer enough.
"Hello, and welcome to Mane and Tail!" Clipper said, grinning broadly at the young unicorn and the older earth pony as they stepped into the salon. "I'm Clipper, and I'll be your personal assistant today. How may I assist you?"
The older pony's lip curled in distaste, but she replied politely, "My daughter needs a mane cut, so she'll look nice for her birthday party."
"I'm eight!" the younger pony said, a single spark jumping from her horn in her excitement. "And I just got my cutie mark!" She turned to show it off, a cluster of yellow flowers, and her mother smiled indulgently at her.
"Primroses for my little Primrose," she said. Then her expression turned sour again as she looked at Clipper, who just grinned at the two of them.
"That's wonderful!" he said, turning slightly to show his own, an electric trimmer and comb. "I remember how excited I was to get my own cutie mark. What kind of mane cut would you like?"
As Primrose chattered and Clipper led her to one of the styling stations, her mother shuddered slightly, looking around the salon at the other ponies working. All of them had bright eyes and broad grins, as if nothing brought them more joy than working at this strip mall haircut shop. All of them had cutie marks related to cutting, styling, or cleaning. And all of them, in the corner of those cutie marks, had an identical symbol: a horseshoe-like U curled around a disc sliced to look like an E, all in chrome.
These next-gen automatons are so creepy, she thought. They almost look like real ponies.