Job
The young, minty green unicorn known as Lyra Heartstrings sat in the office of Mr. Greypants. The dull grey, elderly earth pony stallion sat across from her. He wore a pair of comically large glasses over his eyes, about 5 inches thick. He had a bulky, thick grey moustache like that of a walrus. On top of his head, he wore a black top hat, and he had a golden monocle over his right eye.
Yes, he wore a monocle over a pair of glasses. His eyesight appeared to be so bad in his right eye that he had to wear a monocle over a pair of glasses. His face was badly wrinkled from years of hard work and age. He was rather frail and thin-looking. It looked like he needed to visit Hayburger sometime and get some mass. The stallion seemed so physically inept, Lyra dared to think a young foal could defeat him in a fight.
He didn't look like the sort of stallion who would travel to dangerous parts of the world. He looked like some sort of stallion that worked in a desk job. It seemed as if he ate low-fat tofu and soybeans all his life. Being an archaeologist like that of Daring Do, was a risky job, yet this stallion looked like he could not do any of that sort of thing.
Finding the remains of human civilization was a dangerous job, you would come across violent bandits on your travels. Human technology was extremely valuable, each new thing discovered advanced Equestria’s society another one hundred years. Computers, the dildo, and the Internet would not exist without humanity.
Lyra dared to believe if ponies had not found human technology, ponies would still be just fucking around banging rocks and eating grass like savages as they did in the Stone Age. Perhaps this stallion was stronger in his youth? Lyra was not so sure. Lyra came across many old stallions in the past who still possessed great strength despite their great age.
Lyra Heartstrings herself was in the prime of life. Her coat was in pristine condition. And she had a healthy plump backside, with foal-bearing hips to die for. Mr. Greypants’ office contained many filing cabinets and bookshelves. In the centre of his office, there was a large square-shaped wooden table. Upon this table in front of him, there was simply a boring, grey laptop like himself.
“Lyra Heartstrings,” he began in a dull, monotone voice. “I have looked at your CV. You would make an excellent employee for our archaeologist team. Your knowledge of the extinct species of humans is substantial,” she smiled, making a happy sound like a dog’s chew toy. “However, I have done some background checks on you, and checked your Internet history, and quite frankly I am disturbed.”
Lyra’s ears folded back, and she smiled nervously. “Oh, what did you see?”
“Hundreds of poorly written human smut stories, and thousands upon thousands of pictures of humans and ponies having sex. What in Equestria is wrong with you?!” he exclaimed, raising his two front hooves high into the air.
“Huh! You are an old boring prude. You should be asking what is wrong with you?” she grumbled, crossing her two front hooves, glaring at him angrily.
“What? I’m a professional archaeologist. I don’t run the risk of masturbating over archaeological discoveries. Furthermore, you are a high-ranking member of the Mythic Hand. An insane human worshiping cult that wishes for the princesses to voluntarily kill themselves, and then perform a ritual by sacrificing one million willing ponies in order to resurrect humanity.”
“What? I just thought they were some sort of human fan club or something. If that be the case I'll immediately leave them. There has to be a more ethical way to bring back humanity rather than the princesses to kill themselves and then sacrificing one million ponies.”
“Moving past that. Can’t you see why we can’t have somepony like you in our company?”
“Have you ever read The Last Humans in Equestria? There was a small village of human beings that managed to survive the great cataclysm that rocked their world. They did not have the population to replace their losses. But the ponies at the time described the amazing feel of human hands.”
“Yes, and?”
“Not to mention, the heartbreaking story where Celestia kissed the last human goodbye just before he died of old age? What’s more, there are conspiracy theories that there are humans still alive. It’s just they are hidden underground and are waiting to rise again from the ashes.”
“See? You also believe in crazy conspiracy theories.”
Just then, a human spontaneously jumped out of the floor of his office next to his desk on the right, creating a huge hole in the process. This human was very short, yet stocky. He had a massive grizzly black beard covering his face. His face and beard were covered in dirt and dust. Below his head, he wore a set of finely crafted, heavy plate armour. This armour had various inscriptions of hammers and axes upon it.
“Oi! We didn’t go extinct! We just evolved into dwarves!” the human-dwarf grumbled in a gruff voice, crossing his arms.
“That doesn't scientifically make any sense at all!” Mr. Grey Pants exclaimed, raising his two front hooves in exasperation. “How do humans turn into buff beardy midgets?”
He ignored him and turned to face Lyra. “My name is Dunbar Ironfist. What is your name?”
“My name is Lyra Heartstrings. I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Ah, I heard about you. Come with me! Leave this old fart behind! I shall show you the grand kingdom of Dazzlezad-dûm!”
“Wait! Take me with you!” exclaimed Mr. Grey Pants, reaching his right hoof out to him.
Dunbar Ironfist crossed his bulky thick arms and glared at him angrily. “No! Mr. Grey Pants! Only those who masturbated to dwarf-porn are allowed in our grand kingdom. Our spies have reported that Lyra Heartstrings masturbated to dwarves with manly beards like my own on the Internet.”
“It's true. I have studied the legendarium of dwarves, and I have not only masturbated to your manly beards, but I also masturbated to your magnificent dwarven craftsmanship.”
Tears of joy fell down Dunbar Ironfist’s cheeks from hearing her romantic words. “I shall craft you a fine set of jewelry, milady.”
Dunbar Ironfist jumped into the hole in the floor, and Lyra quickly followed suit. Mr. Grey Pants sighed deeply, he opened up his laptop, and reluctantly searched for human on pony porn to redeem himself. Lyra was right, he was a prude, and he needed to masturbate to prove himself worthy of being granted access to the kingdom of Dazzlezad-dûm.