The Cutie Mark Allocation Agency

by Hoopy McGee

A funny thing happened on the way to the office

For a long moment, the gnomes in the office all froze, staring at Glumm with expressions ranging from wide-eyed shock, to confusion, to outright terror. The one most terrified was Claribelle, who broke the silence by shrieking and pointing at the box that Glumm was resting a booted foot on.

“You have to get that box out of here!” Claribelle screamed.

Glumm looked down at the box, his expression changing to one of mock surprise. “What, this old thing? It’s just an old box, isn’t it?”

In the corner of the office, Claribelle was busy making a variety of strangling noises. Chief Tallywaddle, a calculating look in his face and his fingers pinching his nostrils shut, turned to the two counselors in the office.

“Dat da box?” the Chief asked. Tiddwiddle nodded, his eyes wide and fearful. “Right,” the Chief said. He took a couple of deep breaths, cleared his throat a few times, and then made an effort to speak clearly, in spite of his swollen nose. “Good work, Glummwriggle!”

Everygnome in the office gaped at the Chief. Well, everygnome except for Glumm, who smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, it was nothing,” Glumm said. “I came across this box, figured it was important, thought I would bring it back to the office.”

Chief Tallywaddle nodded. “Yes, you did well. Why don’t you leave that box with me, and—”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t think of it,” Glumm said, his grin growing even larger. “If this box is truly so important, I should make sure it gets taken care of properly, right?”

Tallywaddle did his best to keep a fatherly grin on his face, an effort that was severely undermined both by his swollen nose and his glaring eyes. He knew the beginnings of a shakedown when he heard one.

“That’s right,” the Chief said. “Very responsible. Just as I’d expect for a gnome in your position.”

“My position?” Glumm echoed, his grin faltering slightly.

“Yes. Naturally, your contributions require a promotion. How does Lead Field Operative sound?”

Rule of Effective Gnome Management #12: Use promotions to ensure loyalty.

“Sounds made up,” Glumm said doubtfully. “Besides, aren’t I suspended?”

“Suspended? Pah!” Tallywaddle waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve obviously proven your worth.” He waited while Glumm absorbed that information before adding enticingly, “And it comes with a large pay increase.”

Glumm frowned suspiciously. “How large?”

“Let’s say…” And here, the Chief hesitated. He couldn’t make the raise too large at the outset, or there would be no room for negotiations. And he couldn’t make it too low, or Glumm might just leave, insulted. “Let’s say a thirty percent raise?”

“Huh,” Glumm said, looking at the box. “Seems an awful lot for just a box. What’s in it?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” the Chief stated flatly.

“It has the files containing the original cutie mark research for a couple dozen Ponyville colts and fillies,” Claribelle shouted from behind him. “They’re going to destroy it!”

“Why would they do that?” Glumm asked.

“Because they’ve been giving fake cutie marks to a bunch of poor ponies!”

Ninabella uttered a soft “What?” at that, but was mostly disregarded by the rest of the room.

Any lingering vestige of Glumm’s grin vanished. “Is that true?”

Chief Tallywaddle scoffed. “Of course not!”

“The girl is insane,” Tiddwiddle said quickly.

“Completely lost her mind,” Figgwaggle added.

“Totally bonkeroos,” Tiddwiddle ventured. He was starting to get into the swing of it. “Cracked her nut. Off her rocker. Completely out to—”

“I am not!” Clari shouted again.

“Well, that’s good,” Glumm said, his grin returning, though with a slightly harder edge to it. “I suppose, though, that it would be a good idea to bring this to the Auditing Department, just to have them give it a look-through.”

“No!” came the shout from three different gnomes.

“Oh?” Glumm’s eyes were glittering dangerously as he looked at all three in turn. “Well, why not?”

The three conspirators exchanged an uneasy glance. It was the Chief who responded with a reluctant “Well, it’s true that there are some… irregularities, you could say, with the files in that box.” Tallywaddle fit a long-suffering, tired-looking smile onto his face. It was a look he'd often practiced in a mirror. “You know how it can be. We rile up the Auditing Department, and they’ll bring in Compliance. Then the next thing you know, Internal Investigations shows up and we’re firing gnomes left and right. It’s much better to take care of these things… discreetly, if you get my drift?”

The Chief winked and tapped the side of his nose, his face freezing when that tap caused a bolt of pain to spike through his skull.

“And… how are we going to take care of this discreetly, boss?” Glummwriggle asked, scowling.

“You don’t need to know that,” Tallywaddle said smoothly. “By the way, did I say a raise of thirty percent? I meant forty.”

“Wow… that’s… that’s a lot of money.” Glumm looked torn for a moment, then his shoulders slumped as he sighed. “Deal.”

Glumm set the box down on the floor and shoved it with one booted foot, causing it to skitter over to bump against the Chief’s leg.

“Yes!” the two counselors shouted, giving each other awkward high-fives.

“Noooo….” Claribelle moaned. Next to her, Tinseltoes just looked shocked and betrayed.

“Well, well, well,” the Chief said with a chuckle as he bent over and picked up the box. “Looks like I win.” He shot an evil grin Glumm’s way. “And, you? You’re fired.”

Glummwriggle’s eyes bulged as he shouted, “What?!”

“You really should have gotten my offer in writing before handing the box over.” Tallywaddle winked again and added, “Idiot.”

“So, what, you’re actually going to destroy the box, like Clari said?” Glumm snarled. “You’re just going to hide the evidence regarding the misallocated cutie marks?”

“You got it!” the Chief crowed. “First thing I’m going to do is tip this box into an incinerator!”

Glumm smiled suddenly. “Well. I guess I can understand that, considering what’s actually in the box. Oh, and Chief?”

“Yes?” Tallywaddle asked warily, taken aback by Glummwriggle’s sudden change in demeanor.

“While we’re on the topic of ‘should-haves’, you really shoulda checked the contents of that box before spilling your whole evil plan in a room full of witnesses.”

As Glummwriggle winked at him, Chief Tallywaddle felt a chill run down his body. He ripped the top of the box and saw that it was filled with regular file-folders, each stuffed with papers. Holding the box with one hand, Tallywaddle removed one of the papers from a random folder.

He recognized it instantly. It was one of the motivational posters of himself that had been posted all around the CMAA Headquarters. He had a thoughtful look on his face, and was looking slightly to the left of the camera as it had snapped the picture.

Somegnome with a childish sense of humor and a black marker had vandalized many of these posters, apparently thinking that the Chief’s thoughtful expression looked made him look like a gnome with a case of severe abdominal distress. This particular one had its original motivational phrase crossed out and “I have hot air coming from both ends” written in its place.

Hands trembling, the Chief pulled out another paper at random. Another poster, this one with “If you have a question, pull my finger and I’ll have an answer” scrawled across it.

“What…”

“Oh, wait! That’s not all!” Glummwriggle said gleefully as he rushed forward. He pushed the folders back and reached into the box. “Check this out!” he said triumphantly as he pulled a Field Agent’s communication device out of the box. A rubber band was holding the “Transmit” key down.

A great deal of strength left the Chief’s legs at the sight of the device. The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and his heart lurched painfully for a few beats. “What..?” was all he managed to say.

Glummwriggle took the band off of the communicator, thumbed the Transmit key, and said, “Did you get all that?”

“I sure did,” came the voice at the other end.

Tiddwiddle and Figgwaggle were staring with pale, disbelieving faces at the device in Glumm’s hand. Behind them, Claribelle laughed gleefully and clapped her hands, and Tinseltoes sagged with relief.

With lips that felt suddenly numb and cold, the Chief asked, in a voice hoarse and disbelieving, “What did you do with the files?”

Glummwriggle answered with a smirk.

In the back of Tallywaddle’s mind was the thought that the situation was still salvageable, somehow, if he could only find the files. Maybe he could write off the whole thing as a joke… But now he needed the files more than ever. And Glumm’s smirking face pushed him over the line.

With a wordless snarl, he rushed forward, gathering Glummwriggle’s collar in his fist. “Where are the files?!” he bellowed.

Glumm’s only reply was an insolent grin.

~~*~~

Two hours earlier…

A small, shadowy shape darted from place to place, seeking cover wherever it could be found. This early in the morning, there weren’t many ponies about. Still, it wasn’t wise to take unnecessary chances.

Glummwriggle stopped momentarily under a convenient hedge as he planned out his next set of moves. His target was across a wide street, which he ran across as quickly as he could. Breathing heavily, he leaned against the pastel trim of the building, rendered a dark grey in the moonlight.

Nopony had seen him. So far, so good. But the real risk was beginning right now.

A quick circuit showed him that there was an open window on the first floor of the building. With a grimace, Glumm began scaling. After several minutes, and some muffled cursing, he finally reached the windowsill, where he lay on his back and panted until the stitch in his side went away and his arms stopped feeling like jelly. Once recovered, he popped the screen out of the window and gently lowered it to the ground.

His heart pounding, Glumm ran across a countertop and then climbed down a set of drawers until he reached a well-scrubbed kitchen floor. Doing this without a stealth field was beyond nerve-wracking, and Glumm gulped against a rising nausea. It was best to get this over with, he decided.

~~*~~

“Where are they?!” Chief Tallywaddle roared.

Glumm’s grin slipped away as he sighed and shook his head. “Do you want to know when I realized that I’m a bad gnome?”

Chief Tallywaddle blinked, confused. “What?”

“I know what you did was wrong, you see. And the thought of all those ponies with the wrong cutie marks makes me sick to my stomach, it really does.” Glumm shook his head sadly. “But I’m still a bad gnome. And that’s because, in spite of how sick I am looking at the three of you, there’s a mean little voice in my head that’s telling me that it’s almost worth it to see the looks on your faces when you realize what’s going to happen now.”

~~*~~

Ninety minutes earlier...

The stairs had nearly killed him. Each one nearly as tall as he was, they required a climb that the out-of-shape Glummwriggle found himself barely able to complete. Not for the first time, he considered just dropping the whole thing and going back to bed. Each time he did, though, he found himself remembering the frequent dressing-downs he’d gotten from Figgwaggle or Tallywaddle. Somehow, he found the strength to go on.

Glumm made his way cautiously down the hallway and into a small bedroom. He stepped lightly, making almost no noise at all. He made it all the way to the bed in the room without incident, and found himself climbing once again.

The pony was asleep under a pile of blankets, a tuft of mane showing out the top. This, Glumm knew, was it. His mind was clear, as he walked over to the sleeping pony’s face. He was about to break the most sacred rule of the CMAA. After all, amongst the ponies, only the Princesses knew about the gnomes and the services they provided.

The Princesses… and one other.

Glumm poked the pony rudely on the forehead. She stopped snoring with a snort, pale blue eyes shooting open with muddled confusion that washed quickly away in recognition.

“Glummwriggle?” the pony asked.

“Hey, Pinkie Pie,” Glumm said. “I need a favor.”

~~*~~

“What do you mean?” Tallywaddle asked, giving Glumm a little shake. His stomach was sinking even as his rage was building. “Where are the damned files, Glummwriggle?!”

Glumm resumed his spiteful grin. “Oh, don’t worry. I made sure they were in good hooves.”

The Chief’s face froze in horror. “Hooves?” he whispered, his hands going slack on Glumm’s collar. Slow, stately hoofbeats could be heard approaching from the hallway outside of the Chief’s office. “You fool… what have you done?”

Glumm’s answering grin threatened to cut his face in two, it was so wide.

~~*~~

Sixty minutes earlier...

Glummwriggle sat uncomfortably in the middle of Pinkie’s now-empty bed, feeling horribly exposed. Every instinct was urging him to find something to hide behind, or under. Instead, he sat on Pinkie Pie’s obnoxiously pink bedspread and tried his best to ignore the alligator.

Gummy was sitting on the corner of Pinkie’s bed, staring at him with what Glumm could only assume was a hungry expression. The toothless alligator wasn’t a threat to a pony, but to a gnome that only outweighed it by an ounce or so, it was a dangerous animal.

“You just stay back, you lizard,” Glumm warned the alligator.

Gummy responded by blinking his left eye while simultaneously licking his right.

“Aww… That means he likes you!” Pinkie said unexpectedly as she popped up from the other side of the bed.

Glummwriggle’s manly cry of alarm could almost be interpreted as a piercingly high shriek of panic. Pinkie gaped at him for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“You’re silly!” she said.

“And you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Glumm replied, clutching at his chest. He took a couple of calming breaths. “Is it done?”

“Yuppers!” Pinkie said with a nod. “Though, poor Spikey was sound asleep when I woke him.” She frowned. “I’ll have to give him some apology cupcakes.” Her face transformed as she grinned happily. “With emerald sprinkles! He loves emeralds.”

Glumm swallowed against the lump in his throat. He was committed, then. No going back now.

“How long to you think—” he started to ask.

A loud “whump!” from outside Sugarcube Corner answered him, as bright light flooded through the windows. Morning had come early to Ponyville.

“Not long at all,” Pinkie said with a sharp nod.

~~*~~

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

The sounds came closer, echoing through the hallway like the approaching of the Horses of the Apocalypse. Through the large glass wall on the front of the Chief’s office, a brilliant white light began to rise, growing in intensity as the sound of hoofsteps grew ever louder. The light soon became too bright to look at directly, forcing every gnome in the office to look away, shielding their eyes with their hands or, in Ninabella’s case, diving underneath her desk.

Chief Tallywaddle’s door opened. The light came through first, blinding at first but dimming considerably a moment later. It was followed by a gnome-high figure, which looked around the room with eyes like frozen fire.

“Good morning, my little gnomes,” said Princess Celestia in precise, even tones. “We have many things to discuss.”

Chief Tallywaddle, old campaigner that he was, was the first to recover. Instincts honed over decades of ladder-climbing, influence-gathering and backstabbing came to mind. He lifted his left arm, which was feeling oddly numb, and pointed a thick finger at the unfortunate Tiddwiddle, who looked just about ready to wet himself.

“It’s his fault,” Tallywaddle said, with every appearance of complete confidence.

Rule of Effective Gnome Management #1, the most important rule of them all: Make sure some other gnome takes the fall.

It took all of three seconds for Tiddwiddle to get past his shock. “What?!” he shrieked.

“It’s true,” Figgwaggle said hurriedly. He saw the value in the Chief’s declaration immediately, of course. “I tried to talk him out of it, but—”

“Save it,” a harsh voice grated from the doorway. A black-suited gnome stood there, his expression carved from granite. With all eyes on Celestia, his less-obtrusive entrance had gone unnoticed.

Tallywaddle staggered sideways, his breath coming in wheezing gasps and his voice coming out in a dull whisper. “Director Grimwold?”

Next to him, Figgwaggle gaped and Tiddwiddle was making little mewling sounds in the back of his throat.

“That’s right, Tallywaddle,” Grimwold said, his voice tightly controlled. “Don’t bother lying. I heard the whole thing over the communicator.”

It was too much. Chief Tallywaddle collapsed slowly but inevitably to the floor, clutching at his chest. The pain from before had returned to knife its way through his ribs, swallowing the resulting gasp of agony before it escaped his lips. As he lay on the floor, his vision greying around the edges and his lungs unable to draw enough air for him to breathe, he realized that he was finally having that heart attack his doctor had warned him about.

He felt oddly mixed feelings about that, he decided as the pain faded.

His vision dimmed, and cold started creeping up his limbs. His view of the ceiling was suddenly interrupted by Celestia’s face, who regarded him with an almost idle curiosity, as if he were some kind of bug that she had almost stepped on.

The Princess’ horn glowed, and warmth returned to Tallywaddle’s limbs. His breathing eased and his heart, after giving one or two painful thumps, went back into its normal rhythm.

Princess Celestia leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

Comments

[Alondro]

Princess Celestia leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

"Death would be a kindness compared to what I'm going to do to you..."

And so, Tyrantlestia was born!

[djthomp]

Oh man, the first scene of the chapter was just a joy to read.

“Glummwriggle?” the pony asked.
“Hey, Pinkie Pie,” Glumm said. “I need a favor.”

And so was the rest of it, actually.

The Princess’ horn glowed, and warmth returned to Tallywaddle’s limbs. His breathing eased and his heart, after giving one or two painful thumps, went back into its normal rhythm.
Princess Celestia leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

That was a thing of beauty.

[Ekevoo]

Awwww Princess Celestia saved his life! That's so sweet! (I bet his family is going to tell him that)

[albedoequals1]

I suspected Pinkie Pie was a Chekov's Gun (or party cannon, I suppose).

[PresentPerfect]

that was morbid D:

[Circut Breaker]

And Pinkie Pie, the ultimate facilitator, saves the day!

[Cursed Quill]

“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”