As Rock Solid took his mid-morning coffee break, he noticed that his boss looked distinctly unhappy. "You okay, Boss?" he asked.
Fertile Plot sighed. "Faithful Steed and Barn Stormer are retiring next week. Which means...I've got to process two new hires."
Rock Solid frowned. "Why is that a problem? I thought things went pretty well when I applied. Err..."
Fertile Plot smiled. "Yeah, your application was okay, but you were a one-off hire. One-off hires aren't usually a big deal." She sighed again. "Open hires are a completely different matter."
Rock Solid thought about his own application and interview, then realized what an 'open hire' would likely entail. "Oh."
Fertile Plot shook her head. "That isn't the part that's the problem," she said. "I always take precautions during applicant interviews, and my own special talent means being mounted never wears me out. I can be mounted ten, twenty times a day and--"
"Uhh...moving along?" Rock Solid interrupted with a cough, blushing through his coat.
His boss laughed. "The problem with open hire days is...I get some of the weirdest ponies looking for work..."
* * * * *
Fertile Plot stared at the stallion seated across from her. He had hideously crooked teeth, his eyes were lopsided, and he had a bulging, sloping forehead that was shaped like buttocks.
"And your name is...?" she asked as she pulled out a quill to fill out the interview form.
"Butt Ugly," the stallion said.
"Right," she said. "I'm sorry, the position has been filled."
* * * * *
"So, Mister...Snowflake..."
"YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
"....right. Next!"
* * * * *
A donkey trotted into the office. "Hullo," he said. "M'name's Ass Ugly, 'n' I'd like work."
Fertile Plot frowned at him. If possible, he was even uglier than Butt Ugly. "Sir, I'm afraid I only hire ponies. My clients prefer their children to be able to actually, you know, give them grandchildren one day."
* * * * *
"YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH?"
"No."
* * * * *
The most perverted-looking pony Fertile Plot had ever seen trotted into her office, dripping jelly all over the nice clean floor.
"You're...that guy with the giant jelly jars, aren't you?"
The stallion nodded and smiled creepily at her.
"NEXT!"
* * * * *
"YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH?"
"No."
* * * * *
The day was almost over, and Fertile Plot was in a truly foul mood. Open Hire Day had, predictably, turned into a parade of freaks and losers.
The door opened, and a colt walked in. He was quite young and small, barely old enough to actually mount a mare. She blinked. "Um..."
"Hi, I'm here for the stud job?" he said in a cracking voice.
"You're a little...young," Fertile Plot said.
"I know," the colt replied, shuffling his front hooves. "But...I've gotta get this job. It's, well..." Shyly, he turned his flank to her.
His Cutie Mark was a trio of sperm.
Fertile Plot blinked at him. "Um...what's your name, kid?" she asked.
"Little Magic."
"Do your parents know you're here, Little Magic?" she asked gently.
"Sure, they sent me," the colt said. "Umm...maybe I should just show you why I need to work here..."
He trotted around the desk to stand beside her, and unsheathed himself. Fertile Plot's eyes bugged out.
"You're hired!" she exclaimed feverishly.