From behind the curtain

I’ve been here A few years and with someponies transferring or retiring I had gotten myself a cubicle in the back corner near the paper copier. I think that placed me there as a means to quickly repair it or refill its magic. I never fully understood how it works. I know it has some sort of ink container and some kind of magic storing crystals. I know just enough about it to keep it working for a few days until a Zebrox unicorn repairpony comes to maintain it. It’s nowhere in my job description it’s just one of those things that I figured out how to do when I was new and they kept having me do still. I usually don’t mind lending a hoof to whoever needs help with the finicky device so long as they aren’t demanding or I’m in the middle of something.
Just like Joe’s donut shop I’m the first one in, except for the building maintenance ponies or security pony. I’m not completely sure who it is that opens it, though I don’t really care to know. It might be both.
I grab a paper from a stack meant for all employees and trot over to my desk. I set my bag up and pull out the contents. I grab my personal book and smell its old oilskin cover and untie the strings holding it together. The thing is well worn around the edges with some minor water damage to the cover; some small stains decorate the oilskin. The tattered slightly yellow pages with slight warping due to spills and drops also show a little bit of abuse perhaps more age. I would never get another one though it was too near and dear to me. I had just added some more pages into it a while ago giving it a little bit of contrast to the older aging papers. ‘Friends’ if any were truly to considered one it’d probably have to be this book. He knew almost all my thoughts that I fear to convey to anypony else.
I flip over to a section about cutie marks and read over all of the notes and theories I had jotted down the majority were in the same hoofwriting and ink, the later varied just barely but enough to show that I had come up with other ideas after an initial brain dump.
Going over the conversation that I had with Joe, I’m pretty sure what little we talked about was already covered in the book. I felt that since we shared a brief thought about it that I should add something if nothing else, just to include somepony else in this crazy collection that I had amassed. Paraphrasing it in my head and getting the main points in my head I thusly put ink to paper. I read it and once more. Content with the latest addition I wrap it back up and throw it on my desk.
I kick my back hooves up and start skimming through the newspaper, picking out coworkers’ articles. Of course they put Articulate Author’s on the front page. That pony is such a brown-noser. We’ve butted heads a few times and he seems to play the game really well. The game being the politics of the office and wording the pieces exactly how the editor loves it. I’m sure he could make a mass death sound like a happy fun filled day while ignoring the actually facts. Sipping at the coffee I see a couple of articles of mine they printed nothing too big or interesting.
“Well better start fixing everything they tore apart from yesterday.” I mumble as I set the paper down and levitate the stack of piles from my inbox over to me. Shuffling the papers and skimming over them one by one. I put aside the ones that are heavily marked with notes or one lines, knowing that these will need serious work or just blocked until they’re no longer relevant or “news-worth”. They’ve gotten a little more accustomed with my writing style and on some things they used to kick back, they just quickly edit and or reword. They still gave me the credit for the story… it does make me feel robbed or unworthy of it though. Guess that’s just me still having pride in my own work.
I start on the first couple of pieces taking me a almost a half hour. I can hear my coworkers start to shuffle in, making small talk, and making some noise in the break room. It’s just the everyday noise of the building coming to life.
“Hey ST!”, a head yells as it pops over the side of the of the cubical, startling me into dropping the stack of papers.
“Oops… Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to surprise you… Did you get the copier back up and running?”
“Yeah, last thing I did before I left last night.”
“Sweet.” He looks down at my now cluttered desk. “You know if you just choose better stories or wrote how they want you wouldn’t have to go through a pile like that every day?”
“I know, but I feel that the reader should be able to get the straight truth and not just some happy fluff filled piece that bends the issue at hoof.”
“Geez bro, I was just saying”
“Yeah. Sorry. Just my morals stupidly getting in the way of getting out of work quicker or more stuff printed right” I changed my tone to be more jokingly. I just want to end this conversation so I flip to my normal tone and say, “You mentioned something about the copier before, right? If you happen to pass the break room could you grab me one of the apples from there on your way back to the copier?”
“Sure, no problem bro, the least I could do for you fixing that hunk of junk” he said as he lowered himself from the cubical wall and from what I could tell from the sounds of his hoof steps was heading away.
I don’t care for these ponies’ constant criticisms or suggestions of my work. It’s the one thing that quickly gets under my coat. I wouldn’t want to get snappy with them, being one of the newest and possibly lowest printed. I find sarcasm and joking to be the safest way to alleviate my frustration and not cause a conflict. Celestia knows that if I said the wrong thing or just had a bad attitude around anypony here it’d be known by everypony before I had a chance to sneeze. I imagine rumors mill at any job would be just the same as far as getting around; it is just that our office is way more efficient at that. It is what we do.
Once done with all of the lighter pieces, I turn my attention to the ones I had placed aside. I let out a sigh knowing that these were the bain of my workday. I pull the one aside that I know I turned this in at least four times. I retrieve a clear Clopix marker from my drawer. Ever since I started doing articles and I had been getting them back with red ink I would make copies of the ones I had thought would be kicked back. I found that the ones kicked back multiple times, they would have me “re-correct” to the point where I was turning in exactly what they “wanted” to just be something I had already turned in. Then one day when I went to copy them the ink wouldn’t show up on the copy. So one day, I took home some work and analyzed the ink finding it to be magical in nature. I had no idea how to make it appear except with a camera I enchanted to see it. I was also able to make this clear Clopix marker have a disenchant on it so I could test for this ink. Since it’s a dispel magic and its clear all it does it remove whatever magic ink it touches leaving no trace. I pick out a location to test the ink where its loss won’t be noticed. Dab. Yep… sure enough, magic ink. I repeat it for all the other pieces, with sadly the same result.
It’s now trusted little magic camera time. I grab it from a small pocket in my saddle bags and look over it quickly. I couldn’t go around lugging the camera I had initially used to take photos of my work, thing was too hue and obvious. If they had an inkling I was onto them I had to be careful about it. Went to the next town over bought it and enchanted it myself. Magic ink revealing,; miniaturization and sound muting enchants on it would make a spy jealous. I take pictures of all the papers and throw it back into the bag. I start writing all the corrections. I hate leaving information out at the next three lines I got to coping over to a new sheet had been one lined completely on the old sheet.
“Yo ST, here ya go.” he says as he throws me an apple.
“Thanks” I say catching in my aura before it had a chance to hit my face.
“Least I could do for our in-home Zebrox repairpony.” he says chuckling.

Meh. I am pretty much a joke here, but I love the idea of the news. Finding the facts, the truths behind events and reporting it fairly, so everypony could see what’s going on. Exposing villains, crooks and injustices, throughout this great land to make it better for everypony, I guess isn’t anything more than one of my fanciful dreams.