*plop*
Blank Slate sat down in his chair and began looking over all of the papers on his desk. They had been organized into neat piles with smaller sheets of blue paper. One read "Marketing Ideas - To Be Processed", and the stack rose a solid foot or so with ideas ranging from "Teleportation Devices for Non-Unicorns" to "Sock Arranger". Most of the ideas would be rejected, though some may pass his inspection. Next to it was another blue sheet that read "Marketing Ideas - Processed (Pass)" and another that read "Marketing Ideas - Processed (Fail)".
Next to that was a small pile with a green sheet that read "Important Documents!" This had papers such as news about the next pay day, the next company-wide meeting, and updated workplace guidelines. These were to be done after processing and were to be passed out to every employee in the building.
With a dejected sigh, Blank Slate started shuffling through the ideas one by one. Every once in a while, he would give a sliver of a smile and toss the paper into the pile of accepted ideas, but more often than not he would give a dejected grunt and halfheartedly toss the paper into the pile of rejected ideas. The pile slowly dwindled down until there was one paper left. He was about to dismiss it as another failure when something inside caught his eye.
Ever wanted to have a good time? Ever wanted to be something other than ordinary? Just follow these simple steps and you'll be extraordinary in no time!
As he read on, his interest slowly waned, until he gave yet another dejected grunt. He tossed the paper into the pile of failures and continued about his business.
Row after row of tiny cubicles, just enough to fit a pony and their desk. Blank Slate dropped the papers off at the desks of everybody else. Some were nice and said thank you; some were not as nice, but still gave acknowledgements, and then there was her.
"What do you think you're doing Blank Flank? Who told you to drop those papers off on my desk?"
This was Diamond Glaze, otherwise known to the rest of the workplace as "Scary Mare". A stuck-up snob, her father recognized her potential for disaster in his own company and paid a big bit to dump her at this place. She was never truly satisfied with life; the running joke that she could win the Royal Treasury and still complain had been going on for a few years now, ever since she started complaining. Her main target was Blank Slate, especially since he didn't have what everypony else had: a Cutie Mark.
"I'm dropping off updates about things going on, as I do every day at this time." He made sure to keep an even pace and steady tone as to not give off any anger that would always build up whenever he had the misfortune of speaking with such an awful mare.
"You didn't have to mess up my work, you bumbling buffoon!"
Her words sent him over the edge for the first time. "You didn't have any work on your desk, you never have any work on your desk. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do, unlike you. It would look good if you did something other than your hideous makeup for once!" And with that, Blank Slate walked away from the seething mare, who was already plotting revenge.
Blank Slate had just gotten back from lunch at a nearby cafe. He got the same thing he did every day, and as per usual brought back his water to enjoy throughout the day. However, something happened that was not just another phase in the system of life for him. He was yelled at.
"Slate! Into my office now!"
Blank Slate trudged toward his boss's office. Cold Gold was not a stallion to be trifled with; to anger him was not a bright idea, and it is rumored his name came from a chilly winter day, when a small mistake on the part of one of his subordinates was met with him literally stripped of his bits and thrown out into the snow -- definitely not a stallion to anger.
Cold Gold stared at him while Blank Slate made himself comfortable, though the cold, steel grey eyes did not help. Once Slate was comfortable, Cold Gold started the conversation. "Blank Slate, do you know why you're here?"
Said pony shifted uncomfortably before giving his response. "Sir, if I knew why I was here, I would tell you. However, I don't, so I can't tell you. Though I am curious, why am I here?"
"You have been filed for harassment of a fellow co-worker, is this true?"
Another shift in weight from Blank Slate, before he said, "No, I do not have any knowledge of me harassing a fellow co-worker. Why are you telling me I have done something that I have no memory of doing?"
"Well, Blank Slate, lying about harassing Diamond Glaze won't help you here, because I have proof of your nefarious deed. Look at the accusatory paper."
I was working and Blank Slate came by and called my makeup hideous before yelling at me to go back to work! He's been doing this for a while, and I've finally had enough of it! I've been working here for five years now, and I have done nothing but work, so why am I being harassed?
I would recommend taking immediate action upon this lecherous low-life.
Signed, Diamond Glaze
"I even have papers from other co-workers to support her claims against you; what do you have to say for yourself?"
Blank Slate shook in his seat. He knew he was innocent, but any words he would use to defend himself would just be reflected as poor defense. So he did what he thought best.
"In all of my twenty years here, I have never harassed a pony, neither mare nor stallion, unless they truly deserved it. If this is what it has come to, then so be it."
Cold Gold was severely angered by the words of his low-life subordinate. "How could you... Diamond Glaze is the top worker here! She has produced some of the most brilliant ideas the company has ever seen! I simply cannot fathom what would drive you to be so mean to such a hard-working mare! You're fired!"
The words rang in his head for the longest of times, yet all in the space of a second. Twenty years of labor, all amounting to mere scraps of nothingness. Yet at the same time, a sense of... freedom. One of the few things he never had was now his.
He smirked, which grew into a grin, which grew into a smile that stretched across his whole face, which turned into a raucous laughter that could be heard about the office. He had never been so inexplicably happy in his whole life before now. Freedom, I welcome thee.
"Blank Slate, what are you doing?"
He stopped laughing and grinned at his boss, his jovial words shaking Cold Gold to the core. "I am merely preparing for my arrival into a land of the likes of which I have been a part of my whole life, but never known. I am free, and that is one thing you cannot buy, my old friend."
He ran out of the office whooping with excitement, his joy apparent in every aspect of him. He ran over to his office and, taking his whole right foreleg, swept off the contents of his desk onto the floor. He went over to the cubicle next door and gave him his suitcase. "Have this, you might want it." He arrived at the doors to the stairs to the street, and with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, spoke his last words to his co-workers.
"I'll be going now."
And he ran down the stairs, to a new life with all of the joy he had ever had in his life.