XII: Never Trust a Salesman Part 1
"All right, quiet on the set!"
A small camera crew stood around, waiting for filming to resume. They stood just outside a ring of General Motors vehicles where lights had been set up strategically around the showroom floor, amplifying the gloss of the 2014 floor models currently occupying it. The boom operator adjusted his microphone higher, after accidentally letting it dip during the last cut.
The cameraman focused the shot and ensured the only things visible were the cars and the large "Potamkin Manhatten" banner in the background. Once he was sure everything was perfect, he hit record and shouted "Action!"
There was a slight pause before a short, pudgy sky blue pony in a suit cantered out from behind the wheels of a Cadillac Escalade and began approaching the camera. "Hello there," the pony spoke in a high, scratchy voice, "I'm Snips with Potamkin Manhatten, and I'm here to tell you about our year end sales event!"
Bruce DeFranco stood behind the cameraman with his arms crossed and a large grin on his face. As the colt went through the lines and recited the gimmicks, Bruce sat back, praising himself on his investment. Talking Ol' Yellow Eyes down from $7,500 had been a challenge, but if he could talk a single mother of two into a brand new Buick, he could do anything.
"--and we'll snip another .25% off your interest rate!" Snips continued. The dealership's advertised interest rates were written on large pieces of construction paper and dropped down from above the colt. He scrunched up his face and the horn protruding out of his brown mane began to spark. A clean cut went through each of the three papers, sending their lower halves drifting to the floor.
A friggin' magic pony. And all I needed to do was shell out five G's and sign that bogus contract. Of all Discord's clients, Bruce DeFranco was one of few who took the time to read the entire contract, and he did so three times. He'd even had the gall to ask for some changes to be made.
"Brucie," Discord had said with more than a hint of annoyance, "the terms are non-negotiable. I'm just trying to protect my investment as much as you are yours."
"Please, D, I'm a salesman too," Bruce had said, leaning back in his chair, "your contract is a trap, a proverbial black hole. I sign this and there's no way out."
"This is a binding contract, yes, but if you follow the guidelines then you have nothing to worry about!"
"Yeah, let's talk about those guidelines." Bruce brought up a pen and began circling certain phrases on the parchment. "Natural death…not covered. I don't care how magical this thing is, it's gonna die sometime. I want this part removed."
The pupils of Discord's eyes constricted, leaving his irises great, angry orbs of red in the sea of yellow. He snapped his fingers and the text vanished from the parchment, but Bruce simply moved his finger onto the next part.
"No resale? Come on, D, what if I want a newer model?"
Oh the look on his face! Bruce's smile had practically reached his ears. After several more adjustments, he'd finally signed the contract and had his own copy tucked away in his briefcase. A rookie like Discord should stick to peddling fake Rolex's under Queensboro Bridge.
"--and remember, when you need a new car, think Potamkin!" Snips finished, looking right at the camera.
Bruce stepped out from behind the scenes and shouted, "And cut!" The crew clapped politely for Snips' performance, and the young colt basked in the attention. "Snips, you were great, "Bruce said, bending on one knee to be more level with the pony.
"You really think so, Mr. DeFranco?" Snips asked excitedly.
"Please, call me Bruce." He smiled and then turned to look at the camera crew. "I want that video edited and put on the five o' clock spot on all the major channels for tonight."
Several members of the crew nodded in acknowledgement and set off to perform their specific duties. This commercial would be seen all across New York, and people would flock to the dealership. That's just how advertising works; you have a talking animal, and bam, people want your product. The talking dog commercial they'd tried out the month before had increased average sales by ten percent, so imagine what a pony would do.
"Alright, someone get Snips to his cage. He's got a lot of reading to do tonight," Bruce said, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and making his way toward the door.
"Uh, Bruce!" Snips shouted. One of the assistants had already started removing the blazer of his little suit, and he tried to break from her. "You said the cage was temporary, remember?"
Bruce stopped and looked down at the fat, little colt at his feet. "It is temporary," he assured Snips with a smile. "You just keep up the 'volunteer work' we agreed on, and you'll have your very own trailer behind the dealership."
"Y-you promise, right?" Snips asked with a stutter.
"Snips, if it's one person you can believe, it's a car salesman. Now go start practicing your lines. We have three more commercials to film before New Years, and then we can start getting ready for President's Day!"
The assistant that had been helping Snips get out of the suit led him back to the center of the showroom where she'd set out garment bags for the outfit. Bruce chuckled and stepped through the automatic doors and into the dealership's parking lot.
Snow had begun to fall and a few inches had already accumulated on the cars parked outside the dealership. One of the city's youths Bruce had hired under the table was hard at work keeping the cars closest to the street clean. The young boy ran back and forth, running the makeshift snowbrush over the hoods and windshields of the parked cars.
"You're doing a fine job, Miguel!" Bruce shouted with his unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Make sure you get the headlights!"
Miguel looked up and nodded happily, knowing that if he did a good job, the car salesman would give him money to buy his sister some food. He ignored the cold in his hands and feet and ran from one car to the next, running the brush along the front bumpers and headlights of each.
Bruce flicked open his Zippo and lit the end of his cigarette, taking a long drag and holding it before exhaling. The cloud of smoke hovered in front of his face for a moment before dissipating around the falling snowflakes. He took another drag and while he was holding it, a hand clasped down hard onto his shoulder.
"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. Don't you know that smoking is bad for your health?" a sly voice whispered in his ear.
Bruce coughed and sputtered as the smoke escaped his lungs, burning his eyes and nose. He turned around and saw Discord, standing there with a wide grin on his face. "Dying from a heart attack is bad for your health too! Sheesh, give me a warning or something next time!" Bruce coughed, reaching down into the snow and retrieving his cigarette.
Discord leaned on his cane and waited for Bruce to fully recover. His eyes were as yellow as ever, and his gaze deviated from Bruce, to the cars, to the boy cleaning them, and back. A large smile remained on his lips, as if he found all of his surroundings ever so entertaining.
"So, I imagine you're here to check up on me or something," Bruce said, regaining Discord's attention. "You think I've already done something against the contract, don't you?"
"Oh, I would know if you've done something," Discord replied, standing up straight and twirling his cane. "I'm actually here to purchase something from you."
"A car?" Bruce asked with a laugh. Discord nodded. "You want to buy a car? When you have that hocus pocus bullshit?"
Discord nodded and his smile only got larger. "What do you say, Brucie? I sold you a pony, now you sell me a car?"
Sure, why not? Bruce thought to himself. I can probably get a rich prick like Discord into an Escalade. "Alright, D, how about we go inside and look at the floor models first? Maybe grab a coffee?"
"I was already in there," Discord said over his shoulder. "Didn't really like the looks of those ones." He twirled his cane again as he walked away from Bruce and out onto the lot.
Already inside? I sure as Hell didn't see him.
Miguel had just started cleaning the headlights of a 2013 Chevy Corvette that had been on the lot since the prior year, when Discord sauntered over. The boy tried to work faster and avoid eye contact, knowing that Bruce didn't like him being seen by the customers.
"Excuse me," Discord said, addressing Miguel. "Do you think this looks better in red, or blue?" Discord tapped the head of his cane against the roof of the car twice; the first time, turning the car from gray to red, and the second time, from red to blue.
The boy's eyes lit up in amazement, but Bruce stepped forward and began pushing him off the lot. "Vete!" Bruce shouted, guiding Miguel to the rusty Walmart shopping cart he always pushed around. "Que no vio nada! Comprende?" Bruce asked, reaching into his wallet and removing a ten dollar bill, then thrusting it into the boy's hands.
Miguel looked at the money, and then craned his neck to look around Bruce's legs. Bruce turned around to see Discord repeatedly tapping his cane on the roof of the car, turning it from hot pink, to arctic camouflage, and everything in between.
Bruce left Miguel with his hard earned money and ran back to Discord. "Hey!" he shouted, grabbing hold of Discord's shoulder. "You can't be doin' that!"
"Why not?" Discord asked, tapping the car one final time, turning it back to its original gray. "If you don't have it in a color I like, I'm not going to buy it."
"No, I mean you can't do your friggin' voodoo out here in the open!" Bruce was already frustrated with Discord, and wasn't sure he even wanted to sell him a car.
"I just wanted to know what your young associate thought."
"The kid doesn't even work here. You address me with your questions, okay?" Bruce let go of Discord's shoulder and straightened his blazer.
Discord looked out to the sidewalk where Miguel was still watching from. "It looked to me like he was working. I even saw you pay him."
"He volunteers--it's completely legal," Bruce growled. "Now, can we get back to business? Do you want to check out the Corvette?" He tapped on the roof of the gray car, half expecting it to change colors.
Discord stroked the pointed beard attached to his chin and peered inside the car's window. "May I take it for a drive?"
Bruce looked up at the large snowflakes falling from the dark clouds above. "You want to drive in this? Are you sure? I mean, we can reschedule you a test drive for a nicer day."
"My schedule is pretty solid until New Years, Brucie," Discord said, looking at the Rolex on his wrist. "And unless I'm wrong, the weather isn't going to be too good after that."
"Hey, you're the boss," Bruce sighed, figuring it was easier to just let him take a lap around the lot than prolong their encounter. "There's a $200 security deposit, and I need your license. I'll do the paperwork, grab the keys and temp plates, we'll cruise around, I'll give you the skinny on the car, and maybe after that we'll head into my office and sign some papers."
Discord held up a key with the Chevy logo on it and let it hang in front of Bruce's face. "How about you just give me the skinny?"
To Bruce's complete bewilderment, Discord clicked the unlock button on the key, and the lights of the Corvette flashed. "W-wait, hold on!" Bruce shouted, but Discord had already seated himself in the sports car. Bruce hurried to the other side of the car and wrenched the passenger door open.
Inside, Discord was looking around at the dashboard and center console, testing the automatic locks and power windows. As soon as Bruce was seated next to him, both doors of the car slammed shut. Discord continued inspecting the interior, peering into the glove box for something he just wasn't finding.
"Discord," Bruce said nervously, keeping his eye on the key still dangling from Discord's left hand, "we can't go anywhere until I have your license and get the temp plates put on. I'm sure you understand the importance of proper documentation and legal procedures."
"Yes, yes, Brucie, in due time," Discord said with disinterest. "Tell me about the car."
A feeling deep in Bruce's gut told him something wasn't right, but he'd be damned if he lost a sale. He just had to treat Discord like a regular, unknowledgeable customer. "Well, first off, what made you want to buy a car?" Bruce asked, more politely than the first time. "I mean, if I could teleport anywhere I wanted, a car is the last thing I'd buy."
"I saw an interesting film the other night," Discord replied, adjusting the rearview mirror. "It was all about this amazing car and the problems it caused."
"What was it?" Bruce asked, only half interested. Herby? Cars? Transformers? Oh God, hopefully he doesn't mean Christine. The last thing I need is this freak bringing a bunch of MY cars to life to kill people.
"Back to the Future," Discord answered. "This thing can go 88 MPH, correct?"
Crazy son of a…"Hah, it can do double that, but the standard model doesn't come with a 'Flux Capacitor'. What it does have is a 6.2 Liter V8 engine, voice activated navigation, and a seven speaker sound system. Just hand me your license and we can test some of those features out, I'll even waive the $200 deposit."
The windshield was already covered in snow, and Bruce was feeling less and less like going for a test drive. Even more so when he heard the next words from Discord.
"Oh, I don't have one," Discord chuckled. "How hard can it be to operate one of these anyway? All I have to do is put this in here and turn, right?" He inserted the key into the ignition and turned it, just like he'd seen in the movie. Only, unlike in the movie, the car didn't make a satisfying rev.
Bruce reached over and removed the key from the ignition. "It's a manual transmission, you have to push in the clutch," he explained, tucking the key into his pocket. Discord looked at him in confusion, and then down at the three pedals on the floor. "Yeah, the left one," Bruce said, pointing down.
"One more try!" Discord insisted, materializing the Corvette's key in his hand and sticking it into the ignition again. The car's massive engine jumped to life to Bruce's horror, and Discord smiled deviously. "Ooh, I like the way that sounds!"
"Stop! Turn it off!" Bruce shouted, his heart beating painfully in his chest. "You don't have a license, you don't know how to drive, we are NOT taking this out on the road!"
"Roads?" Discord asked slowly, looking over to Bruce with an amused expression on his face. "Where we're going, we don't need roads." Plumes of smoke rose up outside the car's windows as jets of fire erupted from beneath the wheel wells. The passenger side's seatbelt extended and snapped painfully against Bruce's chest, keeping him trapped in the car.
The third and fourth story windows of the surrounding buildings bobbed up and down outside the passenger window. Bruce assumed the Corvette must have been hovering about thirty feet off the ground, and God knows how many people saw it.
Discord looked around, somewhat disappointed. "Bruce, why aren't we going anywhere?"
"D-d-did you put the p-p-parking brake down?" Bruce asked. His eyes were clamped shut and his fingers were digging into the arm rests of his seat. He hated heights, he hated flying, and he hated himself for getting into a car with Discord.
"This thing here?" Discord asked, pulling on a lever above the steering wheel. A spray of blue liquid coated the windshield and the wipers whipped back and forth, clearing the snow.
I'm gonna die, Bruce thought, keeping his eyes closed. "It's the one in the center console, right by the shifter."
"Ah, got it!"
The car lurched forward, and the engine quickly reached its maximum revolutions in the first gear. "Shift!" Bruce shouted. "You've gotta shift or you’re gonna stall it!" The sound of the engine stopped abruptly and Bruce's stomach rose up to his throat.
"Oops, what did I do?" Discord asked without a hint of panic in his voice.
Bruce made the mistake of opening his eyes and saw the ground quickly approaching the windshield. "Shift into neutral, push in the clutch, and restart the engine!"
Without hesitation, Discord obeyed, and the car's engine roared back to life. The nose of the Corvette hovered just above a parked car before slowly rising back up. "Hmm, this is a bit tricky," Discord said.
"Bring us back down, I'll drive us back," Bruce commanded, not sure if Discord was even capable of the simple task.
"No, no, no," Discord said, waving his finger disapprovingly at the suggestion. "I'll get the hang of this."
I'm a car salesman, not a driving instructor, damn it! Bruce looked out his window and debated if he could survive a fall from his current height. Judging by the way his seatbelt continued digging into his chest, he wasn't going anywhere until his "customer" was done with his joy ride.
They flew around the city, narrowly avoiding the sides of buildings as Discord continued learning the arts of turning and shifting. The people on the city streets below were mostly unaware of the sports car flying overhead in the midst of the winter snowstorm, but those that did take notice quickly began snapping pictures with their phones.
"So, how do you like it so far? Think you could see yourself owning one?" Bruce asked, feeling more at ease. It was a feeling that wouldn't last.
"Just one more test," Discord said, turning onto a large strip of road. They had made their way back onto 11th Avenue and suddenly Discord punched down on the accelerator. "Hold on, Brucie!" Discord shouted. "This is gonna get heavy!"
He shifted into fifth gear and the tachometer fell to the left, then quickly started climbing back to the right. Discord had begun to laugh, and he took his hand off the shifter to tap the dashboard. A panel that had not existed there spun around, revealing a board with three digital counters on it, all featuring different dates and times.
Bruce instantly recognized it as the one in the DeLorean from Back to the Future, and started shaking his head in opposition. "No! Where, err, when are you taking me?!"
"To the future, Marty!" Discord shouted, pushing several buttons on the board. The digital display labeled "Destination Time" changed to January 1st, 2014, 05:00. The speedometer was quickly approaching the magical speed apparently needed for time travel, and electricity began surrounding the car. Bruce was screaming and holding onto his seat for dear life as the car broke through the fabric of time and came out five days in the future.
"I didn't bring you here so you could cover your eyes the whole time," Discord laughed. "Come now, look at the wonderful chaos you and your people brought upon themselves."
Below the car, people crowded the streets, running and screaming in mass hysteria. Colorful horses in gold armor followed in their wake, their eyes scanning the crowds. Armed New York police officers emerged from the crowd and took aim at the strange equines. Before they could even pull the triggers, a magical aura enveloped their weapons and flung them into the air. In the group of horses were several unicorns, and their horns glowed as they used their magic to deprive the officers of their firearms.
"What's going on?" Bruce asked, looking down in terror. The horses looked a lot like the ones Discord had been selling, but much bigger. These must be their parents.
"Political dispute between two nations," Discord replied casually. "Certainly nothing I'm responsible for." He let Bruce stare out the window as he continued driving through the darkened city. All the streetlights were out, and the only light came from the fires that had started in the confusion. There was one part of the city that was lit up far brighter than the rest, and that was where Discord was heading.
Rockefeller Center was at the center of all the madness, and a blinding light illuminated the early morning sky. As the Corvette drew closer, Bruce could see a formation of armored horses standing around the source of the light. A large, crackling portal had opened up in front of the center, and more of the armored horses were filing out.
"I love it when a plan all comes together," Discord smiled, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Plan? What plan? You said 'you weren't responsible for this'," Bruce said, using air quotes. "How did me buying a pony lead up to this?!"
Before Discord could answer, a massive, dark horse with wings and a horn stepped in from the city and approached the portal. "FIND MY SISTER!" the horse bellowed. "AND FIND THE ONE NAMED DAVID!"
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Equestrian invasion is a very civil affair all things considered.
Lets hope Discord never figures out what a 'yo messiah' joke will do in the middle east.
4758608 ba dum chshh!
I think is best say "Tu no has visto nada! Comprendes?"
Mainly because translating what you put is "You see nothing! Understand?"
Such a perfect use of that line!
You could probably get away with saying "It's Discord. He needs to make sense?", but since you're interested:
In getting up any kind of speed, you'll go up through the gears very quickly, so it seemed a little strange when after flying around for a while he was only putting it into third. First is more or less for getting started. If you're in second gear, you're probably in very slow, possibly even stop-and-start traffic. Third is still relatively slow traffic. Fourth has a much wider range, from about the speed limit inside a town or village (30mph/50kph here) to just below the speed limit on a minor road (50mph/80kph here). Above that you'd put it in fifth, so if you really want your chaos-magic-operated flying car to work like a standard manual transmission car, it would probably make most sense for Discord to have been flying around in fourth and be putting it in fifth when he was going Back to the Future.
Haven't laughed so loud since I started reading this fix. Keep up the good work!
I'm going to pray that this is just a possible future, odds are it isn't and is the actual future. In any case time to find some diplomancers, and other individuals that may have bought ponies that are actually reasonable and decent human beings...
"Why are you showing me all this?!"
"Well if you must know, it's because your contract stipulates a 5 year abandonment period, and that just ran out... now. Don't worry I'll take care of the... reclamation fee."
4758858 My mother lenguaje is spanish and I can tell you're right.
You know, Schemer Discord is really annoying.
Namely because if he's this cunning I can't fathom any way he would have ever lost in the show.
Discord has to be played down in some aspect, other wise he simply cannot lose. He becomes Q and thus, unstoppable.
4762032
Yo tambien soy de españa, pero no sabia si el cambio al ingles era el correcto al final.
My mother language is also spanish, but I did not know the change to the english was correct in the end.
So are those cops aiming their guns as a deterrent? Cause someone with firearms training can clear their holster, aim and fire in less than a second, and I've yet to see a unicorn in the show that could match that speed in concentrating and then grabbing an object, let alone an entire line of no - name guards being able to pull that off simultaneously with no one making a mistake. Of course, this could be just an illusion of Discord's, so all bets are off.
Pony guards beating human police officers, you sir are treading on very thin ice here.
4767526
I find it a nice change of pace.
So Discord basically picked the wrong target with that Salesman? I imagine Discord NEVER likes someone pointing out a transparent booby trap contract. I imagine Discord is now on a hair trigger waiting for even a resemblance of a violation to do something horrible to the guy. Why? Because he DARED make the mountain move. NO ONE is supposed to make the mountain move.
"Snips, if it's one person you can believe, it's a car salesman.
If Discord didn't have a stung ego right now, he'd be proud of this guy.
Discord's antics have changed into murder following the car accident, I wonder how Fluttershy is going to react.
And what the hell he was thinking. Discord likes to pretend he has no plan, but he's always scheming.
There's no way to know if what Discord showed them was real or not.
I MUST SAY this is quite the inversion from how these conflicts normally go in fanfics. Normally the Equestrians lose overwhelmingly. Here they actually remember to use their telekesis. I find it a breath of fresh air.
4769058 Then you must not be looking at very many stories.
4769121
No. But we clearly look at DIFFERENT stories.
"--and we'll snip another .25% off your interest rate!" Snip continued. <- Forgot the s at the end of Snips
A rookie like Discord should stick to pedaling fake Rolex's under Queensboro Bridge. <- peddling, not pedaling
"Dieing from a heart attack is bad for your health too! Sheesh, give me a warning or something next time!" Bruce coughed, reaching down into the snow and retrieving his cigarette. <- Dying, not dieing. Dieing is not a word.
Just hand me your license and we can test some of those features out, I'll even wave the $200 deposit." <- waive, not wave
4765537 Keep in mind two things:
1. Cops.
2. New York cops.
People with proper training and equipment can indeed draw, aim, and fire very quickly. Typical police officers, especially New York police officers, are not these people.
4772896 You have a point, but what about all those times when some poor kid gets shot reaching for his wallet? That's certainly not slow reaction time.
4772865
Thank you so much for pointing these out.
4765537
I´m more curious about how can Luna and the unicorns use their magic when Celestia couldn´t before, and even Discord must rely on his cane to pull his tricks.
4778974 ...Dang, how did I miss that? And how is Snips cutting that ribbon?
4778974
4779499
Trust me, it will be explained.
This reminds me of that one episode of Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends where a producer adopted Bloo under false pretenses and enslaved him as a deodorant mascot.
Just a bit of wishful thinking concerning the last chapter: Discord removed celestia's wings and horn, but technically she still has Earth Pony abilities, right? I just wanna see her make a massive earthquake and knock Discord on his mismatched ass in the final chapter. Just an errant thought.
You sir have made me a reading addict.
4762718
One explanation I found pretty believable was that he intentionally leaves flaws in his plans because if he didn't there would be no chaos other than that which he caused personally. Essentially, he's willing to gamble on a lazy or underdeveloped plan because just winning all the time wouldn't be interesting, and boredom is his only fear.
4767526
4769063
In all fairness they're currently dealing with surprised and confused police, as opposed to a military that has been told what to expect and whether or not they should shoot at it. That said I find it nice to see that they haven't all been sent packing by one dude with a gun.
4809837 Ok, the 'because chaos!' excuse is the weakest one possibly imaginable and has been done to death by everyone desperate to justify their fanon.
Going that route, it's far easier to say Discord cannot ever form a cohesive plan in the first place 'because chaos!' always messes with his mind.
4812023
It usually isn't used very well, but there have been stories that managed to effectively use that explanation. Admittedly they need to explain it a bit more than I did, but when done right it can work. I also kind of like the idea that Discord honestly tries to form coherent schemes to maximize the havoc he causes, but his own nature prevents him from doing so effectively. Well, as effectively as someone his age and power should be capable of, anyway.
4809241
Probably both.
4758608
Oh, I dunno, it’d probably be a blast.
4812060 I think that explains a lot about Discord.
4758858
"Que no vio nada!" should literally translate as a question meaning "What didn't see anything?"
Furthermore, the "Tu no" isn't necessary and is often cut out in real native dialect. However, a perfect response from Mr. DeFranco is unlikely.
Thus, your error is in context. I often hear somewhat botched Spanish being spoken by "educated" individuals.
Part of the problem is the accent, the other being the foreign, yet similar grammatical structure.
For reference, the proper phrase would have been, "No viste nada, comprendes?!"
4772896
I like how you said typically. You don't get a lot of survivalists down here in NYC, but in upstate and towards nearby states, you get some para-militarists. I also know several police officers and military officers. My AP US teacher was a coast guard. My Global teacher is a reserve military officer. My AP Spanish teacher was a military officer and later a police officer. Three staff members at my high school were in the NYPD. My best friend's mother is a NYPD officer. Some of my neighbors have family in the Force. As such, I am fairly familiar with the capabilities of a GOOD police officer, and they can be quite impressive when they see fit. Hell, the janitor in my middle school had family in the Navy SEALS, and several alumni from my high school have become army officers. While I will admit that some of the Force should have long since retired or should have been outright fired quite some time ago, the top percentage of NYC's Finest do their job very well. I am proud to say that I can attest to the fact that not every NYPD officer is blithering, incompetent, racist, trigger-happy idiot, as the media likes to portray them. Really, I hate their hypocrisy, praising the heroics of a unit for less than a week before returning to bashing all US police officers over the actions of a single blasted fool (sometimes, even condemning victims of true accidents when, occasionally, real violators manage to escape their crucifixion). I'm just so happy that you are capable of recognizing the few, outstanding officers who make me think that the NYPD is indeed a trustworthy organization.