Incentives
“We do, in fact, offer an employee daycare service,” Sundance mumbled whilst he held his pen at the ready. “And we’ll soon have a school open. So, we offer offspring daycare, education, and nutritional assistance as employee benefits. And we do so without cost to the employee. Corduroy, Turmeric, and Paradox… we need to determine an approximate cost value of the offspring and extended family services that we offer.”
“Don’t forget, the little ones get healthcare too.”
“Right, Corduroy. Thank you. We need to include that in the relative cost analysis so we can determine which level of incentives we provide.”
“I’m starting to think that the financial value of the incentives that we provide might actually exceed what the common low-wage worker might make in a year.” Brushing her mane away from her face with her foreleg, she continued, “And maybe beyond that. I mean, we provide everything. We’re ticking every box… such as the case might be. We might get accused of exaggerating the services we provide. Will that get us audited?”
While Sundance felt some concern about what Paradox said, he failed to muster any feelings about it. They did seem to provide every service in some way, every need was met—but there were no paychecks. There was a whole section of employee pay that they would be able to mercifully skip. Because that was one thing that Sunfire Inc. did not provide.
“There’s a thing about exployee deathcare.”
“Corduroy, I think you mean employee—”
“No, Paradox… it says right here, ‘exployee’. It goes on to use this word quite a bit.”
Almost cringing, Paradox said, “I don’t know if that’s clever or horrific.”
“We buried Cucumber here.” Suddenly, Sundance had feeling once more, and he wished he didn’t.
“So yes, we do offer funerary services and deathcare. Sunfire Inc. We’ll carry you from your cradle to your grave.” When there was no laughter, Turmeric slunk down and sulked whilst he cast sullen, accusatory glances left, right, and center.
“There’s a subsection here about trade schools and potential employees,” Paradox said to Sundance. “The foals we keep… the little ones, they are future employees, right? So can we say that we offer trade school education and apprenticeship opportunities for employee offspring? And if the answer is yes, which I think it is, does that grant them opportunities for advanced positions within the company? I mean, the answer is yes, but how on Princess Celestia’s green grass do we calculate a financial value for this employee service?”
“I don’t know,” Sundance replied.
“What constitutes a trade school?” asked Turmeric. “I mean, I know what a trade school is… but there can be such a broad definition. From beauty schools to diplomas earned through the mail. The costs are all so different. How do we even begin to tackle this?”
“If I train our future nurses and alchemists, do I assign the value of a traditional nursing school or alchemy academy?” Perplexed, Corduroy reached up, grabbed her own jowls, and then began to tug on them, which distorted her face in odd ways. “Do I even count as a qualified instructor?”
“All good questions,” Paradox said in response to Corduroy’s words.
“I am really, really, really annoyed that Sundance doesn’t look as miserable as the rest of us do right now,” Corduroy said matter-of-factly. “In fact, I’m about ready to chuck him right out the window. We’re all suffering from terminal brain drain and he’s over there all calm and serene.”
Eyes narrowed, Turmeric said, “I think the sicko might actually be enjoying himself.”
“Oh, that’s just perverse,” Paradox huffed as she turned her offended glare upon Sundance.
“It’s a thankless job,” Sundance said to his friends, “but somepony has got to do it…”
For whatever reason, the dining hall reminded Sundance of the school cafeteria, and not in a good way. It was loud this evening, far noisier than usual, and there was a sense of excitement in the air that felt very much like school about to be let out for summer. That curious sensation of anxious anticipation. While he tried to enjoy himself, he found that he was curiously out of sorts, though he could not say why. His friends were certainly enjoying themselves though, now that they were away from the plethora of paperwork.
Even Hollyhock seemed to be in a good mood, surrounded by her brood. There was, in fact, a noticeable difference in her mood. She was happy—even boisterous. Hollyhock was a mare clearly living out her purpose and it showed. It was a profound change, one of the weird overnight varieties. From the looks of things, she was trying to teach them table manners, and Sundance began to wonder if etiquette had an assigned financial value of some sort.
These were salad days; literal salad days. He glanced down at the greens upon his plate and tried to think of how costly they might be if purchased in the city. Everything on his plate was grown right here. Peas, baby carrots, strange lettuces and green things that he didn’t know the name of. And dandelion greens, which he thought would be awful, until he tried them. As it turned out, dandelion greens were delicious, and even more so when drenched in the fruity vinegar made by Good Spirits and Rusty Tap.
“Granny was right, I think.”
“Corduroy, I don’t follow. Sorry.”
“Sundance, it would be good if you had a privy council.”
“A potty council?”
Teeth bared, Corduroy rolled her eyes while Turmeric snickered. Then she said, “No, a privy council. I mean, you sort of have one now. But Granny would make a good addition to it.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” It took a moment, but Turmeric turned serious. “If Rustic were here, he would tell you all about frugal griffons and how wonderful they are as business partners. He has several. Granny strikes me as that type. She’s miserly and wise.”
“A privy council, you say.” Thoughtful, Sundance took a bite of food that was perhaps a bit too large, and then, after he slurped in a few oily, vinegary greens, he began to chew.
“You can’t get greens this fresh in Canterlot,” Turmeric remarked. “Well, you can… but the restaurants that sell them, you either have to stand in line and hope to get in, or you have to reserve seating. The restaurants pay so much for the freshest greens that the greengrocers can’t actually afford them. So everything that they get is basically the stuff that the restaurants reject. Rustic has been complaining about it a lot lately.”
“Sounds like somepony needs to strike up an exclusive deal with the greengrocers,” Paradox said in response. “That might represent opportunity for us.”
“True, but we’d make more money if we became restaurant suppliers,” Turmeric said in return.
“I think we should learn a lesson from Prince Gosling.” Sundance licked his lips, stifled a belch, wiped his muzzle with his foreleg, and then stifled another belch, this one a great deal more ferocious.
“Sundance?”
“Nuance taught me that little ones have a lot to offer,” Sundance said, explaining himself to his friends. “Should I have a privy council, we should check and see if any of the barony’s little ones hold any sort of interest at all. And if any of them do hold some interest, and don’t die of boredom right away, we should include them as much as possible. They’ll learn and grow up. Grow into the position, I think is what I’m trying to say. Only good things could come from such a plan.”
“You’re a lot like Princess Celestia, Sundance.” After she wiped her muzzle, Paradox belched, patted her barrel with her hoof, and then continued, “She pulls exceptional students from the school and lets them work on various community and civics projects. The younger, the better. They don’t know that certain things are impossible yet. She sent Twilight to Ponyville when Twilight was still quite young.”
“And she sent you to me. A sure sign that you’re exceptional.”
“Sundance, stop. My ears are on fire and my cheeks are hot. Stop that.”
“Twilight was sent to Ponyville to stop the world from ending,” Corduroy said as Paradox fanned herself. “Now that Twilight has stopped the world from ending at least a dozen times, it seems as though it falls on us to figure out some kind of future for this world. Sundance, as we’ve all seen, can handle the paperwork. How he does what he does remains a mystery. So it falls upon the rest of us to put our heads together and make this work somehow. We don’t want to rely upon Sundance’s magical stupidity—”
“Hey, Moondancer said I was a magical moron… that’s several grades better than just mere stupidity.” Feathers a bit ruffled, Sundance sucked in a deep breath, fought to hide a smile, turned to Corduroy and then said, “At least I’ll survive the paperwork. Can’t say the same for the rest of you weaklings.”
“I have half a mind to throw a string bean at you!”
“Turmeric, your half a mind can’t tell apart the different shades of pink paper. What sort of interiour decorator would you make with the utter inability to recognise different shades of pink?”
“Oh, Sundance! You wound me! You brute, you brute, you overbearing brute!” Swaying from side to side, Turmeric placed his hoof against his forehead, just below his horn, and acted as though he might faint. “My precious bunghole has been torn asunder from this relentless, unlubricated assault!”
“Oh yuck! Keep that to yourself, Turmeric.”
“Sorry, Paradox. Caught up in the moment. Are you going to be alright, sweetie?”
“Yeah… maybe… just… be more careful before you say stuff like that.”
“I really am sorry.” All of Turmeric’s theatrics vanished and warm sincereness took over his eyes. “It’s easy to forget. I get carried away. Oh, I feel bad now.”
“Well, don’t feel bad,” Paradox said to Turmeric. “Just be more careful.”
“Still friends?”
“Yeah… I just… I just gotta… I need some time to get my head together.”
Ears pricked, Sundance noticed that Paradox didn’t sound like herself. Her words were all off, and her slow, halting speech wasn’t like her at all. Yes, he thought to himself, she was shaken by this. But still, she held together. However hurt she might be, she wasn’t running away or fleeing from the room. His friends were friends with one another—and something about that left him hopeful. Twilight had done great things with her friends and their storied friendship; could he do no less?
Together, they could survive endless reams of bureaucratic drivel put to paper.
The day was almost over, and what a day it had been. Now, the last of the light cast long shadows over everything and the dining hall was now a subdued place. All around Hollyhock, little heads bobbed—with the exception of Gisela, who was wide awake. Scarily so. Sundance knew that the little griffoness cub would cause all sorts of bedtime problems, but he was too amused to care. At the moment, Express Delivery was trying all sorts of pegasus tricks to shush the wee cub, but Gisela proved to be most resistant to these efforts.
As for Sundance, as much as he wanted to do so, he had no plans to sleep.
Grandmother Growler hefted a long wooden case that was oddly shaped. Wide on one end, narrow on the other, Sundance found himself curious about what might be inside—and it seemed as though his curiousity was about to be rewarded. The old griffoness flicked a brass latch with her thumb-talon, opened the case, and then lifted out a banjo that surely had to be as old as she was. Yet, like her, it seemed to be in fine condition, all things considered.
For the first time, he noticed the webbing found between Granny’s talons, and once spotted, he couldn’t stop himself from trying to have a better look. He couldn’t sort out her avian features; she did not have a duckbill. Rather, her beak was a bit long, somewhat narrow, and quite pointy. As for her feline parts, she was tawny and grey with age. She hugged the banjo close, ran her right talon-fingers along the long wooden part that extended from the round part—Sundance knew nothing about banjo anatomy—and then began to twang the strings with her left talon-thumb.
“It’s not fair,” Turmeric sighed as he leaned up against Corduroy. “Griffons. Good at everything they do. Look, Corduroy. She’s a lefty and she’s about to play it upside-down.”
Without delay or hesitation, Granny began to pluck at the strings. There was no warm up, or perhaps this was the warm up. It was fast, blisteringly so, and it was perfect. While she plucked a crazy-fast tune, the edge of her wing tapped against the hollow body of the banjo in perfect time, creating a fine drumbeat that gave the music life. A second later, there was more drumming; Bonk began to smack her paws against the flat floor, and she matched every beat. Little Bonk was now every bit as awake as Gisela, and Sundance could only imagine Hollyhock’s frustration, which he clearly saw upon her tired, sleepy face.
For some reason unknown to Sundance, with music came life. Perhaps this is what the barony was missing. Sure, there was music on the radio, sometimes, but that just wasn’t the same. It was scratchy, poppy, hissy, and difficult to hear. What came out of the speaker was tinny and hollow-sounding. But this—this was vibrant. It was the perfect way to end the day. As heads began to bob in time, Sundance wondered if perhaps he should go and find busking street musicians. Maybe some of them needed a home.
But that… that would be done another day.
For right now, Sundance was content to let the music play.
Don't go into the exployee lounge.
It stinks.
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What a marvelous picture you have drawn in my head!
Quiet, though.
10038919
Explosive off-gassing due to decomposition.
I'll admit, I cringed a bit at the wordplay.
10038934
Oh, sure, harp on the negative aspects of a room full of corpses.
10038997
Light up if you dare.
The employee smoke break room.
the end every one sitting around with Granny playing..
this brings back memory's good memory's.
a grate chapter.
10039042
For clarity's sake... it isn't endless bondage. The idea is that a choice is available, and this means choosing the sort of life you desire. Live free and follow your purpose, whatever that might be, with all needs met (a powerful motivator to work) or go and engage in the rat race if that is your thing. Twilight's goal is that no one is left behind. The important thing, the most important thing, is the preservation of choice. Ultimately, you get to chose the life that you wish to live.
Is Granny's bird half a heron or crane?
Maybe a kingfisher? Trying to think of water fowl that seem correct.
10039171
She's not hard of heron, she's blind.
10039171
Maybe an osprey?
10038934
In the barony of Rotten Egglund, who’s going to notice?
All caught up with this side of the story... now, to read the only one I have not read yet, which is, funnily enough, M.F.D.
Time to learn about Holly's past!
10039489
Definitely a great read. A great characters is love to see more of.
I imagine he’s going to look at an auditing team, smile, then tell them they didn’t bring enough ponies/beings.
Sunfire Barony: Now comes with a soundtrack.
10039489
Different Holly, I believe. Still a good story.
10039489
Not the same Holly.
Hmm. Wiserly, our Granny griffon.
i have a feeling that Sundance's barony would be the perfect place for the "struggling artists"
all their needs are taken care of and all they have to do is make art to help enrich the barony
10039303
im thinking a crain
10039557
10039611
Well, I'll be. I was really looking forward to reading Holly's backstory. Nothing to it, I suppose.
Any specific reason for why you chose the same name, kudzu?
10039909
It is not the same name. Both are different and quite distinct.
I don't think the Equestrian Bureaucracy is ready for Sunfire Inc or Sundance.
I picked some dandelion greens from the yard and tried them. Kind of peppery with a bit of bitterness. Younger leaves are better. I also used the flowers to make cookies once. I'd do it again but I'm only going to use flowers from our yard because I know what has gone onto the lawn. And I stay away from the sidewalk.
Ooooo.
10040096
I...
Sometimes, I really don't know what goes thru my brain, I swear to god. Sorry
10039850
pottery WOULD bring a liot to the domain, and lemme tell ya if there was a place ta go ta arets where ya needs were met I'd already be headed there.
Down at Fraggle Rock?
Nobody got this? Tsk…