//------------------------------//
// Desktop 
// Story: Desktop 
// by Mozzarella 
//------------------------------//

"Alright. Time for work."

I rubbed my eyes and tried to ignore the voice on my shoulder. She was right. It was time for work. But I didn't quite have the energy to stomach that enthusiasm this early. 

Plus, it's not like she had much work to do. 

I dropped my bag and set about unpacking for the day. Computer: on. Jacket: off. Scribbled out sticky notes from the previous day: crumpled in my hand. Just as I moved to throw out my trash and put my lunch in the fridge, I felt the slightest tug on my ear.

Back on my desk sat a small, white-haired, four-legged creature. It resembled a cartoonist's interpretation of a horse with a dark blue mane and a unicorn horn for good measure. It stood at roughly the size of a computer mouse, fitting for a race that called themselves "little ponies". 

As a side note, little ponies hate when you compare their sizes to regular mice. They get real pouty about it.

"Could I get set up too?" she said, presumably busting out some puppy dog eyes. I couldn't really tell behind the sunglasses she was still wearing.

I rolled my eyes. "Getting set up" involved putting my phone down on my desk and letting her fiddle with it for the next eight hours. 

"Here," I said, placing it next to her. "No more new games, okay?"

"Yeah yeah," she dismissed, waving me off. "I don't know your password anyway."

I was still a bit uncomfortable letting a small animal crawl all over a device I may need to hold to my face at some point. On one hand, those hooves of hers hadn't touched anything but my shoulder and my breast pocket since this morning. On the other, I've seen her eat. I should invest in some wet wipes.

After a quick trip to the kitchen, I returned with a cup of company-provided off-brand coffee that might improve my foul mood. The little pony was standing by my phone, attempting to plug in a pair of headphones approximately four times her size. 

"Dude," she said, panting. "Could I get a hand here?"

"You didn't say hoof," I thought aloud, grabbing the plug floating above her in a cloud of sparkles.

"Well everyp-one gives me weird looks when I say stuff normally. I gotta de-ponify everything for you guys."

No one gives her weird looks, by the way. They just think she's adorable.

"There you go," I said plugging in the cord. "What's on the playlist today?"

"Dunno. Think I'll go for some dance-y shit. Most of my songs are a little more rave-y. Gotta branch out."

"Uh huh. Well try not to start any raves at my desk, okay?"

"Relaaax," she said trotting to the space between the ear cups. "They're noise-cancelling."

Christ.


...


There were times when I thought I was pretty good at ignoring distractions. Those times ended the moment I tried to work with a tiny horse DJ right in the corner of my vision. 

"Vinyl Scratch" was her name if you believe it. I assumed that was a stage name at first but her parents very much named her that at birth. From what I've heard, every little pony has an on-the-nose name like hers. What's more, they all grow completely natural tattoos on their butts that somehow show off their talents. No ink necessary. 

Oh and like a third of them can do magic or something. 

I blinked and realized I hadn't actually been reading the page on my screen for the past few minutes. I'll take the blame for that one.

"You alright dude?"

I turned to find Vinyl giving me a concerned look. Her entire body vibrated with the bass coming from the headphones surrounding her. To her credit, I could barely hear it. 

"Yeah. Just a little early for a dense document like this."

"You actually read those? I usually just scroll to the bottom and hit 'accept'."

I flinched trying to understand her leap in logic. "I'm- it's not- what?"

"That's one of those things you get when you start up new software, yeah? You know they don't actually expect you to read the whole thing. You just-"

"It's not a terms of service agreement, Vinyl."

"A what?"

"Never mind. The point is I have to read this."

"Damn. That's rough."

"How can you even hear me right now?"

"What?"

"I said how-" I sighed.  "You're messing with me again."

"I have good hearing."

"It's magic isn't it?"

She made a dismissive gesture. "You guys always think stuff is magic. Aren't any humans just good at things for no reason?"

I hadn't thought about that. I mean, when you see a freakin' talking magical unicorn, you kind of just tunnel vision onto magic. I blame cartoons. 

"Do you, uh, need help?"

"I think I'll manage. But thanks for worrying about me."

"Hey, no problem. I mean, you're my ride home so I gotta make sure you're not losing it."

Right.


...


My boss clapped her hands together. "Alright. Unless anybody has any questions, I think we can follow up with the rest of these items offline."

I prayed for no one to speak. Rather, I mentally threatened everyone in the conference room with grievous bodily harm if they dared prolong this meeting.

"Perfect. Sorry for going a bit over time, everyone. Have a good rest of the day!"

Just a "bit". They get to waste my time with yet another meeting that could have been an email, yet they have the gall to tell me to find inefficiency with my own work. I swear, I-

"Oh, Anon," she said before I could sneak out of the conference room. "Do you have a minute?"

No.

"Sure," I said, hopefully not through gritted teeth. "What's up?'

"That, uh, intern you're working with. Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

Fit for what? She's a goddamned alien musician that fits in my palm.

"I guess that depends on what position you have in mind."

"Ah, well, we're looking to fill a number of positions. And we figured that, if Ms. Scratch has been shadowing you, she may have picked up some skills or gained some interest in our business."

"She tends to stay out of the way," I lied. "But I can definitely pick her brain a little when I get a chance."

"That would be great, Anon. Could you keep me posted on that?"

"Can do," I said as I all but sprinted out of the door. 

No, Vinyl doesn't want to work here. She's like, famous in little-pony-land. She told me to my face that she's doing this for kicks.

And I promised to keep that a secret because I'm a sucker.

Someone was laughing in my cubicle. I could make out a blonde ponytail just above the walls. 

"She didn't!" said the human voice.

"Sure did," Vinyl assured her. "And got a black eye for her trouble."

"Goodness!'

"I mean, I'm getting this second hoo-hand but they weren't really on good terms any way. So she was all like 'Hey bestie! I was just a total creep to your boyfriend.' I'd have popped her too."

"'Creep' is an understatement."

I let their conversation continue for another moment before I walked in. Didn't want to give Vinyl a chance to say "speaking of creeps" or whatever. 

"Did I miss a good story?" I asked, poking my head in. 

The little pony waved as I entered. "I was just telling Debbie about that one time at the pegasus show."

This was watercooler talk now. Flying horses doing tricks. 

Debra shook her head and looked at me. "Isn't that crazy?"

"Nuts," I agreed.

"Well I'll get out of your hair. Say, are you two coming to the happy hour on Friday?"

I started to answer but Vinyl spoke first. "Ah, damn. I gotta head back home that day."

"Oh no! Is that your last day?"

"Nah. Just visiting home for a bit. This guy wishes he could get rid of me that easily."

It's true.

Debra turned to me. "How about you, Anon?"

A "no" was on my lips. The tip of my tongue, even. But Vinyl was shooting me an expectant look I could see even through her shades. 

I sighed. "Where is it this time?"

"You know that pub down the street?"

Our resident little pony gasped. "The one with the giant onion rings?!"

"That's the one," Debra laughed. "But for us they're just medium sized."

"Aw dude, you gotta go!"

I made a conceding gesture to the delight of the girls still crowding my desk. 

"Great! I'll see you there!"

She slipped by me and set off down the hall. Once her ponytail disappeared from my view, I leaned down to the pony on my phone. 

"I know you didn't act like that so I'd get you some onion rings, Vinyl."

"Not just for that, no."

"Then what was that about?"

"Are you awake? She was giving you the eyes!"

"The eyes?"

"The eyes. Go and make a move."

"For the love of-" I stopped myself before I swore in front of the cartoon character on my desk. "Okay. First of all, I'm not interested."

"Why not? She's cute."

"She's bubbly. It wouldn't work."

"Mhm. Only shut-ins for you, huh big guy? You know if you want to meet somepony like that, you'll have to start breaking into houses."

"Second," I said, ignoring that jab. "I'm almost positive she's seeing someone."

"I didn't see a ring. And I checked real good too. Crawled all over her hands and everything."

"Whatever. You want any sauces for your day-old onion rings?"

"Anything but honey mustard," she said, possibly sensing my unwillingness to continue that conversation. That, or she found someone more fun to harass on my phone. 


...


"Is it time yet?"

I didn't answer right away. After page upon page of syntax and decade-old forum posts, it was all coming together. I was starting to see through the code. No blondes or brunettes for me though. Just data. 

"Dude. You there?"

"Just give me a second, Vinyl. I'm almost done."

She left her headphone altar and clambered onto my wrist to get a better look. "You've been staring at those numbers for like an hour. What are you even doing?"

"I'm trying to make my job easier. See, if I import my data here into this-"

Vinyl hopped off of my hand and trotted back to my phone. "You're gonna start with those 'pivot tables' again, aren't you? Eugh."

"You don't get it. I'm gonna save so much time once this is finished."

"And I'm real happy for you. But I'm actually gonna conk out if you give me another lecture about your lame spreadsheets."

Ow. "My spreadsheets are not lame, Vinyl."

"They so are. But you do you, buddy. Let me know when it's lunch time."

"Lunch?" I said aloud.  "But it's only...ah shoot."

I scooted out of my desk and walked to the fridge as fast as a professional work environment would allow. When I got back, I found Vinyl trying to pull a tissue out of an overturned box. With each heave, she succeeded only in shifting the entire box.

As I set down my lunch, I held the box in place with my free hand, allowing the little pony to finally tear off a small piece. This also sent her tumbling over the edge into my waiting palm. 

She took a second to regain her bearings and smiled up at me. "My hero!" she swooned sarcastically, folding up the makeshift napkin that almost cost her a several-foot drop.

I've seen her survive those. They still made me nervous. 

"You should really wait for me to do that," I said, shaking my head. 

"I would've been fine," she dismissed. 

"And what if the box landed on you and smothered you? Oh yeah sorry about that. I let your ambassador suffocate on a Kleenex."

"I would have used my secret magic powers to bust out."

"As opposed to the normal magic powers?"

"Passed down to me by the ancient grandmasters."

She made a goofy pose straight out of a kung fu movie. I rolled my eyes, but she might not have been joking.

"Anyways," she continued. "I thought you needed to finish your nerd stuff."

"That was before I realized how late it was. If I don't eat now, my next chance will be in like 2 hours."

Vinyl hung her head somberly and stroked my knuckle. "Work sucks dude."

"Tell me about it."

"On the bright side, it's chow time. What do we have today?"

"What else?" I asked, producing a sandwich and a small bag of chips.

The little pony's snort sounded a bit like a pitched-up normal horse. Those animal mannerisms of hers still made me do a doubletake every time. 

"Again dude?" she asked, frowning at the contents of my sandwich bag. "Do all humans eat the same thing every day."

"Some," I answered, trying to open my chips as quietly as possible. "Haven't I offered to pick something up for you?"

"I'm good. I just think a boring guy like you should spice it up every now and then."

I told myself she didn't mean it like that. I had to.

Before I dug into my perfectly normal and acceptable lunch, I ripped off a piece of lettuce and dropped it on my guest's napkin.

"Bon appétit," I droned with a flick of my wrist. "Need any water?"

"I need the other three ponies you think you're feeding with this," she chuckled, gesturing to the leaf of lettuce that extended the entire length of her body.  

"Eat up. And no chips until you finish your lettuce."


...


"Hey. Can everyone hear me?"

I didn't want to bother unmuting. Someone else would say yes eventually. Mostly, I just didn't want to give someone a chance to embarrass me.

Okay maybe that was unfair. I should have warned her I was starting a call that time. And that they could hear her. And that I was speaking with the guy I had just complained about for the last hour.

I still remember the sensation of ice replacing my blood as Vinyl spoke. As she said in front of my boss's boss, and I quote, "Oh hey. Is that the hardass you were talking about?"

I had a good poker face. And a quick enough hand to mute before she started tearing into his appearance. So that meeting went on without any acknowledgement. It was the following one that appeared on my calendar with HR that had me worried. 

But Vinyl wasn't. Before I could even chew her out about ruining my life she shushed me and promised to handle it. It was actually a thing of beauty. Without a stutter, snicker, or even a second between meetings to plan, she explained how "hardass" means something completely different in pony land. Something to do with how donkeys are relatively stronger on average or something. And they just had to believe her out of fear of being offensive themselves. She would later tell me absolutely none of it was true. 

Anyway, that's why I now have unrivaled trigger discipline on my mic. 

As the current meeting got started, I turned my head to my other monitor to get some actual work done. And, in doing so, I caught sight of my resident distraction doing... something.

Was it dancing? It was hard to tell given the whole four-legged alien thing. There was a lot of bouncing from side to side and swinging her head. I was kind of getting old-school rubber hose animation vibes from it. She'd be right at home whistling and steering a steam boat.

"Anon, do you have any updates for the group?"

I unmuted and gave the least terse "no" I could muster before getting back to work.

Come to think of it, I haven't heard any of Vinyl's music. Everything she's been playing out loud at ungodly hours has been human-made. Maybe it would be interesting to ask about that.

My eyes wandered over to her again. I think it was breakdancing this time. She pivoted and spun on no more than two hooves at a time in a display of dexterity and athleticism that didn't belong on a creature I'd never seen move much more than the length of my desk. 

The unicorn pushed off of her two front legs onto her head and managed a good number of spins without incident. Then she nicked her horn on the desk and tumbled into her headphones with a yelp.

"You alright?" I whispered, redundantly covering my mic.

Her eyes were rolling and actual little birds were flying in a circle around her head. "Peachy," she whispered back. "Gonna have to work on my moves though."

She shook off her cartoon concussion and trotted over to my phone, which displayed a paused video of some guy spinning on his head. 

"Who is that?" I asked. 

"No clue. But his headstand thing looks pretty sick."

It was pretty sick.

"I, uh, can't help but notice that's not a pony in that video. Can you really learn dance moves from someone with a totally different body?"

"We're not that different dude," said the tiny magical unicorn. "The only issue here is the horn."

"Would spinning on your horn work?" I offered absent mindedly.

The pony raised her eyebrows and shot me an intrigued look. "Now that's why they pay you the big bucks, Anon."

"They really don't," I responded, turning back to my screen. Then I quickly turned back. "Wait. You probably shouldn't-"

Too late. In the instant I looked away, Vinyl had drilled herself into my desk.

"Uh..." she mumbled, briefly flailing her legs to find purchase on the ground. With only her front legs within reach, she tried in vain to push herself off. Then she tucked them back into her chest. "I'm stuck."

"I can tell," I answered, reaching over to grab her between my thumb and index finger. "You know, this kind of reminds me of what we used to do in middle school with pencils. 'course, we'd usually throw them at the ceiling first."

"I'll p-pass," Vinyl grunted as I gently pulled her upwards.

There was no satisfying popping sound when I plucked her free. Just another tiny hole in the cheap laminated wood. She wasn't the first to absently punch a hole in one of these. Hopefully she'd be the only one to do it with her head.

"Everything still attached?' I asked while she dusted off her horn. "Need anything sharpened?"

She hesitantly poked at the tip, preemptively wincing. "I think I'll be good. You know dull horns are in these days."

"Uh huh. Maybe look into some simpler moves."

"Yeah I'm sticking to headbanging for a while. Sorry about the desk."

"What do you mean? It was like that when we got here."


...


When I got back from the bathroom, she was gone. 

It's not that she had to check in with me every 5 minutes or anything. She was an adult. An adult smaller than my fist that could conceivably lose to an errant cockroach in a fight. I mean, it'd probably be up to her chin or something. She could even make eye contact-

No. If I imagined that any more I'd throw up. 

Anyway, the real question wasn't where she went or if she could survive an insect attack. It's how she left. I said before that she could survive the drop from my desk but I was convinced that only worked for accidents. Otherwise she'd be launching herself off of tall ledges like my desk or my nightstand without waiting for my help.

I didn't have to look very far for a clue. Next to her headphones I found two tissues tied in a knot. I'm glad I found them there and not tied to something hanging off the edge. She wasn't completely devoid of judgement. But that didn't leave me with much else to work with. There were no tissue parachutes or string and paper clip grappling hooks lying around. What was her next attempt?

A look to my side solved that mystery. She seemed to have taken inspiration from her horn drilling episode. A trail of thumbtacks formed a perilous path down the wall of my cubicle. She must have used her magic to build that little rock-climbing course as she went. Not exactly safe to my satisfaction, but better than a freefall I guess. 

I unlocked my computer and got back to work without worrying about why exactly Vinyl had to bust out all my pushpins to escape. I'll never understand her motivations, least of all this late into a long day. 

I say "late", but my last glance at the clock told me it wasn't that late yet. I did my best to hold back my tears. Time flies only when you're having fun.

"Holy sh-!" came a voice from the hall, elongating that syllable in an effort to censor himself. "Sorry! Didn't see you there."

"I'm used to it," said a more familiar voice.

"You need a hand there? Or a lift?"

"Nah. Gettin' my steps in, you know? But thanks."

In the corner of my vision, I saw Vinyl trotting back into my cage. "You should consider accepting that offer some time," I suggested without looking. "Unless you want to get stepped on."

"No one's gonna step on me," she dismissed. "Plus I wasn't kidding about the steps. I'm going stir-crazy here. I don't know how you guys do it for eight hours straight."

"Me neither."

When she didn't reappear in her spot on my desk, I glanced down to find her eyeing her thumbtack rock wall with trepidation. "I, uh, may not have thought this through."

I stifled a snicker.

"Hmph. I go off to get my buddy a gift and I get laughed at. I see how it is."

"Sorry. Just give me a sec here."

"No appreciation. No respect."

"Alright alright. Hop on." I finished a couple of keystrokes and swirled in my chair to offer my vertically challenged pony a hand. As I lifted her up, I saw a small bottle floating up with her in a pinkish cloud.

"What's that?"

"I've been curious ever since I walked by the vending machine so I thought I'd get us a treat," she said, setting it down. It was one of those energy drink shots that keep you awake at the cost of your health. "Also you looked more dead than usual today."

A genuine "thank you" was on the tip of my tongue right up until that last remark. With a little quick thinking, I managed to inject a little sarcasm into my voice before I spoke.

"Yeah yeah. Pop it open already! I wanna try too." 

I twisted off the top and set it back down next to Vinyl. The label promised several hours of energy, a "better" taste, and zero sugar. 

"Do these have a flavor?" she asked while she read the label herself. 

"I don't know. I've never tried this brand. But I'd do my best not to taste it if I were you."

Her face scrunched up in concentration and her horn lit up with her magic. With that, a glowing drop of the drink rose up from the bottle and into her mouth. 

"That seems pretty handy," I thought aloud regarding magical powers. 

Vinyl ignored me, swallowing the mouthful of energy drink with a shudder. "Eugh. You weren't kidding. We've got much tastier stuff back home."

"Yeah, unless you're into coffee or harder drugs, I think you're out of luck in this world." I downed the rest of the shot with a similar reaction to her and hoped some wakefulness would arrive shortly. "You didn't climb the vending machine to get this, did you?"

She was back between her headphones already. "Magic, remember?" she said, pointing to her horn. 

"And where did you get the money?"

"My wallet."

She held out a tiny brown pouch as her body started vibrating with the music. 

I wanted to ask more questions. Where did she keep that wallet? How did it hold human money? If she could hold that bottle with her magic, why was she always trying to pick up big stuff with her teeth. 

But I'd be here all night if I stopped every time this pony confused me. 


...


"Dude what the hay?"

"Language, Vinyl."

"Yeah whatever mom. What's the deal with the overtime?"

Overtime, she said. It'd been maybe fifteen extra minutes. Fifteen minutes that go on my timecard anyway. 

"I'm almost done."

"You've been whispering that to yourself for the past hour."

"Yeah but now it's true."

She trotted up to my monitor and I think I could feel the interest leave her body as she tried to read my screen.

"Look. The time's right down there. Does this have to get done today?"

"It'd be more work to stop at this point. You got somewhere to be?"

She was shifting side to side and had been for a while now. "Sorry. I'm usually starting work around this time. I'm getting a little antsy."

I get it, honestly. Not the starting work in the evening thing. The anxiety part. 

"Well do me a favor and start wrapping up those wires. I'll be ready by the time you're done."

"Sweet! It's quittin' time!" the little pony exclaimed as she skipped over to her corner of the desk. I saw a couple of sparks and flashes in the edges of my vision as she presumably weaved some spells to clean up. Given her track record, I half-expected to find her tangled in wires.

I hit send on some emails, closed out some software, and finally my screen was clear. 

"There it is," Vinyl said. "I like when it looks like that."

"Me too Vinyl. Would you do the honors?"

I gestured to the power button on my computer. Without hesitation she leapt through the air and landed all four hooves on it. I'd have been worried if she had any strength to speak of.

The lights blinked off of all my monitors after a short pause. Supposedly shutting down like that is bad for the computer but I didn't want to deny Vinyl that satisfaction. 

She hopped off and gave me a dramatic bow. "Now get me out of this office," she commanded, trotting up my arm into my breast pocket.

"Yes ma'am."

With my belongings packed away and my little pony secured, I made my way to the doors. As I passed a certain someone's cubicle, I felt a tugging on my collar.

"Say somethin', dude!" Vinyl whispered, hiding her head.

"She's not even there."

"Huh?" she peeked out to find that Debra's desk was indeed empty. "What the hay, Debbie?"

"Better luck next time, Vinyl."

"Yeah. Next time. As in tomorrow."

"Give it a rest."

"Nah. You better start thinking of a line. Else I'll tell her what you said."

"I didn't say anything!"

"Like she'd believe you. Me and Debs are tight."

I got into my car and realized I wasn't going to win this discussion. Luckily I had one surefire way to change the subject.

"How's the 'research' coming along?"

"Pretty good. You guys have some neat sounds."

"Any winners today?"

"Plug in your phone. I made a playlist for you."

Playlists. Plural. I recognized maybe one artist and zero songs on my phone at this point. And, unlike in nearly every other aspect of her life, Vinyl appeared to be downright organized when it came to music. Well, that's if you consider distinguishing "jams" from "grooves" organized. 

"Did you really listen to all these today?"

"Eight hours is a long time, Anon." 

"Let's go with 'Certified Bops', then. Is that a good one?"

"Oh hell yeah! Turn it up!"

Based on the visible vibrating of my mirrors, I decided against turning it up any further. But I still felt my DJ rocking back and forth in my pocket.

It was interesting, I guess. Vinyl and I didn't exactly have similar tastes but this wasn't too far off. I couldn't tell you if she succeeded in finding some more dance-y inspiration, though. 

"Is any of your stuff available here yet?" I asked as we pulled out of the driveway. 

"Nah. I've got some ponies back home working on it. Apparently you guys are total jerks with the legal stuff."

"Yeah," I answered sadly. "Sorry about that."

"No worries. And if you really wanna taste of my music, I brought some albums with me. You'll have to deal with my pony tech though."

Huh. Could be interesting assuming I'd be able to hear with her tiny pony ear buds.

"Aaand," she continued. "You'll have to get Debbie's number on Friday."

Oh come on. 

She couldn't see my face contort in surprise, irritation, and finally acceptance after her remark, but I was sure she knew. Somehow, even the little shifting in my pocket felt cheeky. 

"I'll... talk to her," I conceded. 

"Yeah you will!" she cheered. "I'm rootin' for you, stud."

I blinked at the boring road before me. At the unfamiliar artists on my phone. At the tuft of blue hair in the corner of my vision that was hellbent on spicing up my life whether I wanted it or not. And I sighed.

"Thanks, Vinyl."