//------------------------------//
// Rivals..? 
// Story: The Cutie Mark Allocation Agency 
// by Hoopy McGee 
//------------------------------//

  "Oh, wow, I was hoping I'd meet you, but I never thought I'd actually get to be your partner!" Tinseltoes gushed, post-briefing. "We're going to have just the best time, Uncle Glummy!" 

Glumm grumbled a response that may have meant just about anything. 

"I'm so excited to learn all about being a field agent!" 

"That's great, kid."

"This is going to be great, in spite of what mom said about working here!" 

"Oh?" Glumm was intrigued in spite of himself. "What did my dear sister say about the CMAA?" 

"That it's a dead-end job for losers. But we'll prove her wrong, won't we, Uncle?" 

Before Glumm could answer, another voice broke in from behind them. 

"While I'm sure your mother is a wonderful lady," the voice said smoothly, "in this particular case, she is completely wrong. In fact, this is the most important job in Equestria, young fellow." 

Glumm sighed, pinching his bulbous nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Lumwinkle," he said, not turning around. "This is my nephew Tinseltoes." 

"Hi!" said Tinseltoes.

"Ah. Hello young fellow. Glumm, I'm surprised at you. Nepotism in the workplace?" Lumwinkle said in a mildly disapproving tone. 

"Not my idea," Glumm said, scowling and refusing to face the other gnome. 

"I just never expected you'd have to cheat to win," Lumwinkle said, stepping around in front of Glumm while Tinseltoes just gawped back and forth between the two of them. 

What Tinseltoes saw were two gnomes who were so completely unalike that they almost could have been twisted mirror images of each other. Where Glumm's beard was frazzled and iron-grey, Lumwinkle's was a well-groomed, almost oily-looking black. His uncle's unkempt, faded clothing came out much the worst in comparison to the newcomer's uniform-like crispness. Glumm stood slouching and hunched, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, whereas Lumwinkle stood ramrod straight, as if defying the world to have any impact on him at all. In addition, the newcomer had a look of frowning disappointment on his face, as opposed to Glumm's look of resigned irritability. 

"For the last time, you idiot," Glumm said with a world-weary sigh, "we are not rivals." 

"How could we not be, Glummwriggle? You and I, graduating at the top of our class—"

"It was a one-day orientation."

"—and now we're the number one and number two here at the Ponyville branch of the CMAA? How could we be anything but rivals for the top!" 

"There's no way to compete, you moron!" Glumm snapped. "We can't control when our charges get their cutie marks! Keeping score is just ridiculous!" 

"It's not like you to admit defeat! Come on, Glumm! Our competition keeps us both on our toes!" 

"Oh, for the love of..." Glumm took off his pointy gnome hat and ran his thick fingers through his already untidy hair. "I'm not competing with you, Lum!" 

Lumwinkle stared for a long moment, then chuckled. "I see. An interesting stratagem, indeed! Trying to get me to lower my guard, it seems. Well, it won't work!" He started walking away, waving at the pair of them from over his shoulder. "Fare well, my worthy adversary!" 

Nephew and uncle stood in silence for a moment until Tinseltoes said, in a disbelieving voice, "Is he crazy, or something?" 

Glumm chuckled and slapped his nephew lightly on the shoulder. 

"There may be hope for you yet, kid," he said. "Come on, kid. Let's show you your gear." 


~~*~~


Everygnome in the room was early, of course. There were... consequences ... to being late. So, in order to ensure that no lateness occurred, the meeting room was typically full to bursting at least fifteen minutes before the meeting was actually due to start. 

It used to only be five. But then she started showing up five minutes early as well, so it became ten for everyone else. When she began showing up ten minutes early as well, it then became fifteen. There was no such thing as too early for these meetings. "On time" was when she showed up, and not a second later. 

The idle chit-chat in the meeting room ceased as a middle-aged gnomette, wearing a severe black blouse-and-pants combo, marched in, thrust her folders towards the table and sat down. Ignoring the other inhabitants of the room, all of whom were staring at her respectfully (and, some would say, nervously), the gnomette began flipping through the folders, reading several papers apparently at random, and then continuing on to flip through still more. 

For several minutes, this continued. None of the gnomes in the room so much as made a peep as the gnomette, her greying hair constricted into a tight bun on the back of her head, went through her paperwork. Finally, she looked up sharply, causing the other inhabitants to all lean back reflexively. 

"Well? Are we ready to get started?" she said crisply, as if everygnome in the room hadn't been waiting for her to acknowledge them. 

"Uh, yes ma'am!" a young gnome said. 

"Excellent. What is the status on the new push for the sashes?" 

"Ma'am!" another gnome said, bolting upright. "The Sash Committee are stalled at the moment, waiting on advice from the Fashion Steering Committee, in order to determine what color, or indeed, colors, the new sashes should be." 

"Unacceptable," the gnomette, whose name was Sarabonn, said in a flat voice. "Resolve the situation. I don't care if you have to meet with the heads of each department hourly until this is resolved, just get it done. How about the Charity Drive?" 

The gnome sat down, and a fidgeting gnomette stood up and started speaking. 

"Uh, well, we're having trouble getting enough volunteers to fill our quota," the young gnomette said nervously. "We only have about thirty percent of—" 

"Honestly!" Sarabonn snapped, slapping a hand down on the desk. The room flinched in perfect synchronization. "Do I have to do everything myself? Get the names of everygnome under Grade 14 who's not volunteering, and talk to them one at a time. Let them know that, while the Charity Drive is voluntary, volunteering for it is not." 

The young gnomette squeaked out what sounded like an affirmative and sat down meekly. 

"How about the Quarter-end meetings? Do we have everygnome on board for those?" 

"Um..." Claribelle said, then shrunk back in her chair as Sarabonn's eyes bored into her. "For the Quarter-end meeting itself, yes. I've gotten all but two confirmed for the Pre-meeting for the Quarter-end meeting, but I'm having some difficulty getting the department heads to commit to a time for the Check-in meeting to discuss the Pre-meeting for the Quarter-end Meeting. Most of them are saying that they have better things to do." 

Dead quiet filled the room while Sara glared holes in Clari. Finally, the older gnomette spoke in tones of ice. "I have given you one task, Claribelle. One. Task. And you can't even get that done?" 

"I'm doing my best!" Clari protested, feeling miserable and, in fact, slightly resentful. "After all, I can't make them commit!" Not to mention, as far as Clari was concerned, a pre-meeting to discuss a pre-meeting was, indeed, redundant and stupid. 

"Persuade them," Sara snapped, then turned her attention to another page in her folder. "What about—?" 

Something snapped in Clari's brain. "How am I supposed to do that?" Clari asked sharply, interrupting her boss. The entire room gasped in shock, with the exception of the two gnomettes, one of whom stared in quiet disbelief at the growing defiance in the other's eyes. "Every one of the department heads, every one of them is buried behind a nearly impenetrable wall of administrative assistants and red tape! I can't even get face time with any of them, and for most of them, their personal assistants are at least three grades higher than me!" 

Clari felt her face heating up as she talked, fear and anger mingling as the last several weeks' worth of frustration spilled out all at once. "I have no leverage! I have no pull! I can't persuade a department head if the assistant's assistant won't even book a time for me to talk to his personal assistant so I can arrange a time to talk to them! I'm stuck! I told you that two weeks ago! I told you that last week! I told you yesterday! If you want me to somehow 'persuade' them, fine! But tell me how I'm supposed to do that if I can't even talk to them!"

Clari was standing now, she was surprised to notice. She was breathing heavily, her hands bunched up in fists and her knuckles pressed firmly into the wood of the table while everygnome around her stared in total shock. Sarabonn's eyes slowly narrowed as she processed Clari's outburst, and the younger gnomette regretfully said goodbye to her career. 

"You know, I do believe you're right," Sarabonn said evenly. "I think this is too much for you. I'll get some other gnome to do it. Why don't you go wait outside. I'll be out after this meeting to give you another task more... suited to your abilities and temperament." 

Clari quailed inside, but tried to keep her face composed. Mustering as much dignity as she could, she waded through a sea of disbelieving stares to the door, closing it as gently as she could after she stepped outside. 


~~*~~


In a darkened meeting room, two figures arrived at almost the same time. They shared measuring glances before they both nodded and had a seat at the table in the empty room. A tense silence reigned for almost a minute before one of them spoke. 

"I have to think that things are going well," one of them said. The other snorted derisively. 

"For you, maybe." 

"You can't blame me for having better tools," the first one said, leaning back smugly. 

"Perhaps. Though I have to wonder..." 

"Yes?" 

"What if, just  what if, certain things came to light?" 

The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the wall as the implications of that statement settled heavily over the room. 

"I'm not sure I know what you're suggesting," the first one said, finally. "But, hypothetically, if they did... that would destroy everything. For both of us." 

"It might almost be worth it," the first one said, scowling. "I know what you're doing. I know how you've achieved what you have so far." 

"We did say 'anything goes', did we not?" 

"We certainly did," the other said. "But perhaps you've gone too far?" 

A sharp laugh came from the first as he stood. "Too far? For what I've accomplished? Hypothetically, of course. My dear friend, you know what's at stake, here. Nothing is 'too far' for that prize." 

"So you say. I have no idea how you got them to cooperate." 

"Got who to cooperate?" The first gnome said with blatantly false innocence. "I thought we were speaking hypothetically?" The gnome stood and leaned forward menacingly, and the second shrunk back slightly before his resolve firmed and he defiantly sat back up. "Keep in mind that if I go down, you go down with me. That's not hypothetical." 

"I understand that." 

"Good. Then we can agree to keep our arrangement private in a manner befitting gentlegnomes such as ourselves?" 

There was a tense silence, ending when the second gnome nodded and stood. "Agreed," he said, and they shook hands on it.