//------------------------------// // Partners. Celestia help us all. // Story: The Cutie Mark Allocation Agency // by Hoopy McGee //------------------------------// The coffee cup tumbled in a graceful arc through the air before shattering on the far wall of the cafeteria, the pieces making an almost musical sound as they tinkled to the floor. Fortunately, the lack of actual coffee in the cup meant that there was a minimum of mess to clean up for the grumbling cafeteria staff. Glumm would be the first to admit to a bad attitude, but there was no need to waste coffee just to make a point. The gnome who'd relayed the cup-flinging-worthy news to him, his immediate supervisor, just blinked slowly. The look on his face portayed the thought that he couldn't believe what had just happened. To Glumm, his boss' lack of belief wasn't at all surprising. The number of things that he imagined Merriwinkle couldn't believe probably included gravity, light, and the fact that the sun rose every single morning. "Did... Did you just throw a coffee cup at me?" Merri asked slowly. "No," Glumm replied. "I threw a coffee cup near you. If I'd thrown it at you, it would have hit you." "Oh," Merriwinkle said, parsing that statement. It took a few seconds, but it finally made sense to him. "All right, then. Anyway, your new partner—" "Is unnecessary, Boss," Glumm said. "I don't want, and I don't need a partner." "Oh." The gears in the Boss's head had started turning again, and Glumm settled himself down to wait with a sigh. "Well, it ain't my call, Glumm. The Chief said he's your new partner. Get him trained up and ready for solo work." The Chief. Of course. Somehow, he must have found out about the unflattering statements that somegnome had written across the motivational pictures that Tallywaddle had posted all over the office, featuring his face staring slightly to the left of the camera in what was supposed to be a thoughtful expression. To Glumm, the expression simply looked mildly constipated. The mysterious vandal had apparently agreed, writing 'I sure wish I could find the bathroom', 'My only regret was that today was taco day' and other such gems on every single poster in the office. All seventy-three of them. Glumm had counted. The Chief probably thought that Glumm had something to do with the vandalizations, but he was pretty sure he was in the clear on that. After all, he was pretty sure that nobody had seen him, or rather, the mysterious gnome with the black marker, actually write anything on the posters. "What if I said I didn't want a partner?" Merri blinked at him, then looked down at he packet in his hand, then back up at him. "It's orders. Gotta follow orders." Glumm sighed. It was going to be a long day. ~~*~~ "And this is where the magic happens," Claribelle said as she escorted Tinseltoes into the outer offices CMAA Control. Row after row of desks greeted the young gnome's slightly frog-like eyes as he looked around in fascination. The several dozen gnomes hunched over their desks, sensing the presence of unauthorized enthusiasm, looked up at him coldly before returning to their work. "This particular area is Research, where we register and track the young ponies as they begin their exciting journeys of self-discovery," Clari continued. "Here, information is brought in by our field agents or scryed directly from the source. It's amazing how often a pony's special talent is obvious to everyone but themselves." The young gnomette smiled warmly at the new recruit, who was far too busy with observing the surrounding area to even notice the favorable attention of a pretty girl, the poor sad goofball. "This is all so incredible!" he said. "What's that?" he asked, pointing. Before Clari could even answer, though, he was pointing at something else. "What's that? No! What's that! Oh, never mind that, this thing is amazing, what is it?" "A potted plant," Clari said, slightly miffed. "Look, why don't I show you the Epiphany Room?" "Oh, wow! Seriously?" Tinseltoes was practically bouncing, he was so excited. "That would be wonderful! Thank you so much!" "This way, then," she said, treating him to another fine display of dimpled smiling, which he again totally failed to pick up on. The Epiphany Room was a marvel of modern magical technology. Row after row of desks were arrayed in a stadium-style, with busy gnomes wearing magical headsets, and staring at special magical crystal displays on their desks. The most noticeable thing was the large map that dominated one wall, behind a pane of glass. But this was no ordinary map: overlayed on it were the names of various ponies, with colors ranging all the way through the rainbow, from a cool blue all the way to a very rare red "The yellow, orange or red ones are the ones we're the most concerned with," Clari said, as Tinseltoes looked around with his mouth gaping open. "The yellow are at 40% on the Epiphometer and climbing. Whenever one turns red, we scramble an agent to their location. If it goes to 100%, we hit them with the Cutie Cannon." "Ooooh," Tinseltoes said. "Then what happens?" "They... Uh, they get their cutie marks," Clari replied. She was rapidly reaching the conclusion that Tinseltoes wasn't too bright, which was a pity, as he didn't exactly have looks to fall back on, either. He was a gangly thing, looking rather like a regular gnome if it were half-starved and rolled out long. Most gnomes tended towards short and pudgy, whereas Tinseltoes was tall and lanky. His greater height was a point in his favor, but he looked like he'd been constructed from far too many knees and elbows, features that not even his neatly pressed uniform successfully managed to hide. His clothes, a bright yellow jacket with red pants, were clean and with creases so sharp that they could easily slice bread, and were draped awkwardly across his gangly frame. His bright blue eyes glittered with keen interest and what Clari assumed to be a near-total lack of comprehension. Curly ginger hair overflowed from the bottom of his cap, matching the hair of his neatly-trimmed beard. Clari sighed. There weren't a lot of choices around the office. Most of the available gnomes she worked with were far too old, far too weird, or just plain smelled funny. As sad as it was to say, poor, skinny Tinseltoes might just be the best of the bunch when the pickings were this, ha-ha, slim. She slapped another smile on her face and shored up her resolution. "So what happens after they get their cutie marks?" "Uh... Well, then we're done. We file the paperwork, mark it as complete, and send the reports to the Princess." "Oh?" "Yes. Apparently, Celestia really enjoys reading the cutie mark stories of each of her little ponies." "Wooow. That must take a while," Tinseltoes said, his eyes bugging out slightly. "Yeah. I hear she had to create a timeless pocket dimension in order to be able to read them all in a single day." "Neat!" Clari dimpled yet another winsome smile his way, and then gestured to the rows of desks across from the large Epiphany screen. "These are the Epiphany Directors," she said, indicating the rows of gnomes who were staring into the strange devices on their desks. "These scrying devices, directly linked to the Epihometer, give a readout on an individual pony on how close they are to reaching the life-changing epiphany that would earn them a cutie mark. They then relay instructions to the field agents on when to fire the Cutie Cannon." "Cool!" "It's all very technical. It takes a lot of research, work and monitoring to determine exactly when and where a young pony will have that epiphany. The Epiphometer helps, but it can't do all the work for us." "How do we decide what cutie mark they get?" Tinseltoes asked, and Clari looked at him in surprise. That was actually good question. The young gnome may not be as dumb as he looked. "That would be the Cutie Art department, working in tandem with the research group, with the final decision made by each pony's individual Cutie Mark Counselor. That gnome will have a portfolio of several different young colts and fillies, and will carefully select the one that best suits their name and talent." "But... how does the Cutie Cannon know what the cutie mark is for a given pony?" Tinsel asked, confused. "Magic!" Clari replied, smiling happily. "Oh, right." Clari looked up at one of the clocks on the wall, then sighed. "Well, it looks like this is all we have time for. I'll take you to the briefing room, where you'll meet your new partner, okay?" "Um. Sounds good!" The brief moment of apprehension was smothered by Tinseltoes' usual energetic enthusiasm so quickly that Clari wasn't even sure she'd seen it. She shrugged and led the young gnome out of the Control center towards the briefing room. ~~*~~ Figgwaggle was a plump, smooth-bearded gnome, and one of the senior Cutie Mark Counselors. His desk was immaculate, everything neatly in its place and perfectly aligned. The gnome himself was almost obsessively well-groomed, an interesting contrast to Glumm's general dishevelment. Glumm reflected that Figg probably thought that his wrinkled clothes and messy beard were an indication of laziness, but that wasn't the case. It took time and effort to get himself this frumpy without actually breaking the dress code. Each wrinkle, each nearly-invisible stain, every frayed cuff, all were carefully designed and measured to cause just enough offense to get under other gnomes' skins without earning himself a reprimand. It was exhausting, looking this lazy. "I swear, Glummwriggle. It's like you're not even trying." the counselor said with an air of evident disappointment. He was looking at Apple Bloom's portfolio, a picture of the filly featuring large and center amidst a veritable door-stopper of a novel's worth of field notes. "I... what?!" Glumm exploded with affronted confusion. "How is it my fault if the filly doesn't get an epiphany?" "I just think you could take this a little more seriously, that's all." "I take it plenty seriously!" "You don't think you could try harder?" Figg asked, and Glumm saw the trap just before he tripped into it. One does not say they can't work harder in the CMAA. "I'm open to suggestions," he replied through gritted teeth. "Go on and tell me how you think I could 'work harder' to have Apple Bloom achieve the epiphany that will determine the course of the rest of her life." "Well, I don't know, I'm sure," Figg said with a disdainful sniff. "That's your job, isn't it?" Glumm stared at the other gnome in furious disbelief. "Right. I suppose you'd like it if I gave it one hundred and ten percent, too." "Only if you think you can't go as high as one hundred and twenty!" Figg said with a smile, apparently glad that Glumm had caught on. "Right. Is that all?" "Yes, thank you. And I hope you do better next time." Glumm managed to not slam the door on the way out, but it was a near thing. He made his way to the briefing room, where the field agents would meet for the upcoming day's events. He made his way inside, noting as he always did the not-quite-pleasant shade of green that coated the walls, and the temperature, which perpetually stayed just a few degrees too cold for comfort, no matter the weather outside. He sank into his seat with a sigh, facing forward. Not a minute too soon, because right then Merriwinkle came marching in, with a young and unfamiliar gnome in tow. Glumm stared at the young gnome in shock. It couldn't be... "Gnomes and gnomettes, please have a seat," Merriwinkle said, and the noise in the room died down. "First order of business. I'd like to introduce young Tinseltoes, a new cadet—" He was cut off then, both by a groan from Glummwriggle at the gnome's name, and from Tinseltoes himself, who caught sight of his new partner. "Ohmigosh!" Tinseltoes said excitedly. "Hi, Uncle Glummy!" Glumm buried his face in his hands and began crying softly.