Minuette Sleeps Her Way To The Top

by Lise


1. Going up?

"S-s-scandalous!" The floor manager puffed up, her cheeks deep red. "Never in my professional career have I seen anything of the sort!" she snorted loudly, then with a passive-aggressive motion waved a hoof at the cubicle. "I mean, I’ve heard rumors that some employees slept their way up the corporate chain! But this..." She paused and let her frown finish the sentence for her.

"Well..." The mare's assistant adjusted his necktie, an embarrassed smile betraying his thoughts on the matter. "Not everypony's complaining..."

"In public!" the mare shouted a whisper. "She's doing it in public! It's disgraceful, it's inappropriate, it's—"

"Cute?" the assistant added. This earned him several silent nods from the group that had started to gather.

"I like to consider myself free-minded as any mare," the floor manager went on, passing a hoof through her mane as she did. "I’m willing to accept certain things, and even turn a blind eye to a few improprieties, but some things cross the line! She has to go!"

A wave of "aww"s filled the room, getting the mare even more flustered.

"Can't we keep her?" some pony asked from the back of the crowd.

"No, Party Time, we cannot 'keep her!'" The manager gave the pony a warning glare. "She's been disrupting the work process ever since she got transferred to this floor. And don't think I haven't noticed some of you accidentally glance into her cubicle in passing!"

A wave of coughs and halfhearted apologies and explanations followed. The manager rolled her eyes at the unease with which her subordinates tried to explain away the matter. Instead, she diverted her attention to the cubicle. Inside, curled under the desk, Minuette—the newly promoted time specialist—slept soundly, snoring with such pitch and intensity that one would think her the love child of an industrial chainsaw and an overly-annoying canary.

The manager scrunched her muzzle. The infernal snoring had been annoying her the entire morning, so much that she couldn't even get to the end of her complaint letter on the matter. Every five seconds, whistling buzzsaw noises would bust through her ears, smash any thoughts she had managed to collect, and then flee her head—leaving her in an eternal state of mind-void.

"How did she get here?" The manager turned to her assistant.

"Well..." The stallion hurriedly flipped through a few papers on his clipboard. "Time Quality Management promoted her an hour ago and transferred her here... in a box."

"In a box?" The manager’s eye twitched.

"Heh heh..." The stallion adjusted his tie again. "She made quite the impression on the floor below, so Time Twist approached me to take her."

"And you—" the managed shouted, grabbing her assistant by the tie. A series of shhhs cut her short. "And you agreed to it?" she continued in a hushed voice. "Have you gone insane?!"

"Just look at her! She's looks exactly like my daughter after a long day at school. How could I say no?"

The manager let him go, then took a deep breath. Now that he mentioned it, she could see Minuette as her daughter. Hardly difficult, having in mind the average age of the floor was forty five. It took decades of work and dedication to get promoted to Special Time Management. To have a filly here, especially one curled up and sleeping of exhaustion, was almost endearing. The floor manager's ears flicked. Maybe it was possible to keep her after all? Some sacrifices would have to be made, but it was poss—

Minuette's snoring intensified, hitting the manager in the ears like a thundercloud. No! No compromises could be made.

"We're transferring her back to Time Quality!" The manager stomped her hoof on the floor, though gently so as not to wake the sleeping pony up. "I'll get the paperwork ready—you find a box." She turned around, starting to make her way through the crowd.

"Err..." the assistant started, making the manager stop in her tracks.

"What?" She inched her head around slowly, her mane tingling with enough passive-aggressive fury to make an entire building of bureaucrats take the day off.

"They signed a statement that she is overqualified for any position they have and cannot in good conscience take her back under any circumstances," the stallion read off his clipboard.

"Oh, they did, did they?" The manager squinted at him. Several ponies near the unfortunate assistant slowly started edging away. "Those snakes! Last time I do them favors! Mark my words, once I'm done with them they'd wish they'd retired before kindergarten! Just take her back to General Time Management and be done with it. Send her a fruit basket or something to cushion the blow." She shrugged waving a hoof.

"She didn't come from GTM." The assistant flipped a page on his clipboard. "And they also included the non-return clause before promoting her to TQM."

"What? Don't tell me she came from Time Liaison!" the manager exclaimed, shocked.

"Err... no." The assistant flipped another page. "They got her from Accounting." His eyes moved back and forth. "They also added the clause, by the way, as well as a personal recommendation that she be promoted to a managerial position. That happened about two hours and forty minutes ago."

"An accountant?" The time manager's head wobbled.

"Actually, she got promoted to Accounting this morning too..."

"By the stars, where did she come from?" The manager's ears drooped halfway. "You know what? It doesn't matter!" She began massaging her forehead. A few veins had appeared on both of her temples, pulsing dangerously. "Just transfer her somewhere—anywhere!"

"Err... well..." The stallion flipped a few more pages. "Pony Resources, don't want anything to do with her. Internal Communications promoted her within five minutes of arrival. Public Relations outright skipped her, stamping the promotion order onto her box as she was transferred to them..."

As each division was mentioned, the manager's ears drooped more and more, until they were flat on either side of her scalp.

"Reception?" She asked with the hope of a condemned pony.

"They promoted her in less than a minute." The assistant shook his head. "Seems she originally came from Engineering." He levitated the clipboard away.

"An engineer?!" The manager shouted, only to be hushed by everypony once more. "We got transferred a time engineer?!" She continued in whisper. "How did this happen?!"

"Err... seems planning made a boo-boo and gave her four consecutive shifts," the assistant said. Hushed laughter came from the crowd along with a series of "Pfft, Planning," comments. "She's been on a promotion spree ever since."

"Unbelievable." The manager's mouth fell ajar.

"I'd say. We hold the record for keeping her!" He smiled widely. A few mares and stallions hoof-bumped behind him.

"Well, we're certainly not keeping her!" The manager regained her composure, moving in front of Minuette's cubicle. "With the disruption she's causing, the company will go bankrupt within a week. No, we're getting her off the floor and that's that!"

"But where can we transfer her to? We're Specialized Time Management, there's no one higher than us. We can't just fire her, because..." He glanced at Minuette with sympathy. "I used to fall asleep all the time when I was in the School for Gifted Unicorns. Can’t we just cast a silence bubble around her and—"

"That was the first thing I tried," the manager grumbled. "It lasted precisely seven-point-two seconds."

"Oh..." The stallion looked at the ground. "Industrial grade sound suppressors? My wife's brother's fiancée is assistant manager of a Cloudsdale weather factory. I could ask her for—"

"Earmuffs won't solve the problem," the manager hissed, careful not to raise her voice too much. "What we need is a more practical and permanent solution, not—" She stopped abruptly. A smile appeared on her face, then widened menacingly. She turned and faced everypony, causing them to step back trembling. "Call your wife. I have an idea."


Minuette felt the a ray of sunlight fall on her muzzle. Lazily, she perked up an ear turned it around; then, failing to pick up any sounds, she flopped it down again. Standing she moved out from under her desk, stretched with a loud yawn, then shook her head violently to shake off any remaining sleep.

Soooo good! She cracked her eyes open. Best five-minute nap ever!

It wasn't often that she would resort to sleeping at work, but after a triple shift her body gave her little choice on the matter. Besides, it wasn't like anypony had noticed. All she had to do now was finish her tasks before her supervisor appeared, and—

"Huh?" Minuette blinked. Where am I?

She never considered herself the most observant of ponies, but even she could tell this wasn't Time Engineering. The room was vast, bright and spacious, the polar opposite of the cramped, filled with machinery workplace. Giant windows composed all walls, providing her with the most spectacular 360-degree view of Canterlot she had ever seen. Stars, she could practically look into Luna's tower from here!

Is this a dream? Minuette wondered, diverting her attention to her desk. It too had changed—three times as large as before, and made entirely of marble and condensed cloud-matter. A single white phone lay atop its surface, tempting her with its mysteriousness.

Curious, Minuette levitated the receiver to her face.

"Hello. Is anypony there?" she asked politely.

"Hello, Minuette!" a mare’s voice responded. "So nice to hear you. I trust your new room is comfortable enough?"

"Err... I guess?" She looked around. This was the first time anypony had asked her such a strange question.

"Wonderful! Well, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to let me know!"

"Err, okay?" Minuette shuffled uncomfortably. "I just... how do I get back to Engineering? I'm a bit behind on my tasks and—"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that," the voice cut her off. "This is your office now, so don't bother thinking about anything from before. Just relax, and think of other things." A loud click followed, indicating the conversation was over.

That was strange. Minuette glanced at the receiver, then placed it back on the phone. As her mother would say, "some questions are best left unasked." At least now I can get some proper rest. She curled up under the desk and closed her eyes.