Day 1: The New Supervisor and Mass CarnageView OnlineTrixie Gets Part-Time Wages With Full-Time HoursDay 1: The New Supervisor and Mass Carnage“No. Bucking. WAY. I am not going to do that, Spike!” Trixie guffawed at what Spike was presenting before her. “I refuse to wear those symbols of servitude!” “Trixie, the apron and hat are standard issue uniform. You don’t have a choice. Do you want to earn your half bit or not?” “I’d rather dig up rocks for a quarter of a bit an hour!” she practically screamed, not caring at all about the many paying customers giving her looks. “Didn’t you already do that before, anyway? You couldn’t even hold down that job! I suggest you take what you can get at this stage in your life.” “And just what is this stage in my life? I’m twice as old as you, you stupid dragon!” “And I make one hundred and forty-three times your annual salary. Put the uniform on, lesser being.” Spike’s smirk only grew, and Trixie desired more than anything to wipe it off his face with a broom. Trixie sighed and took the uniform out of his arms angrily. “Fine, but I’m doing this for me, not for you!” “That’s real nice. Now, I’ve got some paperwork to take care of, so I’ll set you up to train with Flitter today.” A light purple mare with a bright pink bow walked up to her, smiling brightly. “She’s been here since the store opened, so there’s nopony more qualified.” “Flitter… Isn’t she that Wonderbolt’s sister?” Trixie asked, turning to the light purple pegasus mare. Flitter smiled as Spike walked off, likely ignoring Trixie’s question. Well, not likely; she was pretty sure he had done it on purpose. “Yep, that’s Cloud Chaser! I had to get a job to pay the rent after she left, and Spike pays me very well.” “Oh?” Trixie raised an eyebrow. “How much does he give you?” “Fifteen bits an hour,” Flitter winked. In an instant, Trixie’s face turned pure red, and the pegasus pony backed away with a shocked look on her face. “A-are you okay? Doesn’t he pay you a comparable wage?” Trixie’s jaw dropped. “WHAT THE BUCKING BUCK?! HE PAYS YOU FIFTEEN BITS AN HOUR WHILE I GET HALF OF ONE?!” “O-oh, really?” Flitter blinked, confused. “I thought they outlawed slave wages?” “I swear to the gods above, if this is just him getting revenge on me for that whole ‘making Ponyville into slaves’ thing, then I’m going to kill him.” Trixie’s fist shook in the air. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure he’s forgiven you for that! I know I have!” Flitter beamed. “Now, are you ready to begin your training?” Trixie let out a sigh, followed by the tiniest of nods. “Fine, let’s just get this over with…” “Yay! That’s the spirit!” “What…” Trixie muttered. This pony was clearly insane. Or on drugs. Or perhaps both. She reminded herself to check the shelves for anything of the second variety later. She figured she’d need them by the end of the day. “Okay, whatever, just lead the way, I suppose.” Flitter did just that, prancing her way towards the back of the store. Trixie followed her closely behind, careful not to step in any messes they passed by. “Now, Trixie, answer this question,” Flitter said, after leading Trixie to a small supply closet in the back of the store. “What do you think is the most important asset this company has?” An idea came to Trixie, followed by a grin. “Trixie knows better than to answer such a question with anything other than her own question. What do you think it is?” “Customers!” Flitter shouted, a nonsensically large grin adorning her face. “Of course it is! I was merely testing your leadership abilities. You passed… this time.” “Customers pay our bills, put food on our tables and give us something to do eight hours a day, forty hours a week, sixty years an average lifespan. Without them, we of the food service industry have naught but empty pockets and rumbling tummies. You pick up what I’m throwing down?” “Trixie, um, doesn’t see anything on the floor to pick up,” she noted. “Not that I’d pick up after another pony, anyways!” “You don’t have very many friends, do you?” “My only two friends are an insane princess who sends the town into chaos on a weekly basis, and a villain who tried to destroy time itself. Yeah, ponies are just lining up to be my friend.” “Well, thank Celestia for worker-boss professionalism so I don’t have to get in that line. Now!” Flitter bounced once in the air. “Let’s get back on topic.” “Very well. What is your next question?” “Given how important customers are, what would you say should be your main focus on your first day of work?” “The four bits I’ll be taking home after working eight hours?” “Payday isn’t until two weeks from tomorrow. Guess again!” Trixie shook her head and groaned. “The customer?” “THE CUSTOMER!” Flitter once again leapt into the air from excitement. “Today, your position will be in the lobby assisting customers with anything they need! Picking up their trash, taking their trays, delivering their orders to them… They name it, you do it!” “What if they spit in my face?” “Apologise for the inconvenience and offer them a refund!” Flitter stood firm and answered the same way, as if it was a normal response. “What the hay would the inconvenience be in that case?! My face being in the way of their spit?!” “The customer is always right!” Trixie groaned outrageously loud. So loud that the ponies in the lobby likely heard her, but she didn’t care. She gritted her teeth and replied, “Fine, okay, whatever. Can I just take someone their order now?” “Of course not! Let’s do a practice round.” Flitter’s face lit up as if mocking Trixie’s misery. “Pretend I”m a customer.” “Dear Celestia, do we have to perform this blasphemous charade?” “Yes. Now, Trixie, I want to order a number one combo with medium fries and a cola. Will you please read my order back to me to make sure you got it right?” “Fine, Trixie will play along,” Trixie said with a huff. “You wanted a number one combo with medium fries and a cola. Anything else?” “Excuse me, ma’am, but I said I wanted a number five combo, not a number one. Will you correct that for me?” Trixie gasped in utter shock. “Liar! You clearly stated you wanted a number one! You will cease these slanderous statements at once!” “The customer. Is Always. Right!” Flitter poked her in the chest with each sentence. Trixie had to resist every instinct in her body telling her to reach across the pretend counter and very literally strangle her to death. “Fine. That was a number five with medium fries and a cola. Anything else?” “TRICK QUESTION! We have Pepsi products here.” “Ahh!” Trixie waltzed into the main lobby. She was confident that she would make these customers fear ever crossing her with their petty complaints. At least, she was until she saw just who her first customer was. Her eyes grew wide, but she steeled herself and made her way over to the first table she’d ever wait on. “Hi, welcome to Spike’s Salty Sandwiches. May I take your order?” “ALRIGHT, LET’S DO THIS! I’D LIKE A NUMBER SIX WITH AN EXTRA-LARGE FRIES, NO PICKLES, EXTRA ONIONS, AND A DIET PEPSI!” the customer yelled. Not practically yelling, either. This was full-blown screaming. Trixie’s face was coated in a thick layer of this raging pony’s spit, and she shuddered in disgust. “ARE YOU OKAY, MISS? YOU LOOK DISTRAUGHT!” Trixie had to use every fiber of her being not to yell back at him. If she did, he’d likely crush her with one of his freakishly large biceps. “Y-yes. So, um, you wanted a number six, no pickles, extra onions, with extra-large fries and a diet pepsi?” “YEEEAAAAHHHHH, YOU TOTALLY NAILED IT! THANK YOU, MISS…” He paused for a moment, moving to read her nametag. “TWIXIE.” “I hate my life…” Trixie nodded and took the order back to the kitchen before any further damage could shatter to her ego. “Order for Buff McBigtits over there!” “Oh, Bulk Biceps is here?” “You know that insane pony? He looks like he lifts weights in his sleep!” “Congratulations, Trixie! You took an order from our most loyal customer! He spends an average of twenty three bits per day here! That’s a fair percentage of your lifetime earnings!” Trixie sighed, and was about to offer up a retort when a pony coughed. It was rather feminine, and both Flitter and Trixie looked to see who the new pony was. “Trixie!” Flitter shouted with glee. “Assist this customer. Assist!” Trixie rolled her eyes and flipped around to see the model-like figure standing behind her. “Hey, aren’t you Fleur de Lis, the fashion model?” “Yes, that is me,” she said, fixing her mane in luscious fashion. “If you have a moment, I’d like to ask if you could point me in the direction of the ladies washroom. I need to powder my nose, among other things.” Trixie nodded and pointed toward the restroom area in the back of the lobby. “It’s right back there.” “Thank you ever so much,” she said, before daintily walking toward her destination. “Excellent!” Flitter said, flipping Trixie’s body around to face her. “Oh, look at you Ms. Grumpy! You just succeeded in a perfect bait and point move. That’s high level stuff, Trixie. Keep up with that and we may have to bump you up to point sixty-three bits per hour!” “Oh, joy…” Trixie groaned and rolled her eyes again. For the next few minutes, she and Flitter went over some of the finer points of working in the service industry. She was growing used to the pegasus pony’s perpetually pleasant personality and posture. Of course, that all came to a stop when the same pony she’d just directed towards the bathroom galloped past the pair, slamming the front door open and bolting out of the building. “What was that?” Trixie questioned. “That, my friend, could be nothing other than the most feared occurence in all of the food industry." Flitter's eyes narrowed as she turned toward Trixie. "The shit and ditch.” “You mean to tell me she excreted and retreated?” Trixie asked, stunned. “She took a poop and flew the coop!” Flitter grinned a sort of unintentionally sadistic grin that scared Trixie more than any Ursa she ever faced. Or maybe it was intentional; Flitter had become an enigma despite getting used to her. “She anally ejaculated and evacuated?” “Yep! Nothing good lies behind that door, and it’s up to you to clean up the carnage she left behind, Trixie!” Flitter gave her a smug smile and tossed a bottle of bleach and a plunger to her. “You’re gonna need these.” “You can’t be serious!” Trixie shouted. “Nonsense!” Flitter said, pushing Trixie toward the radioactive room. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life!” “But Flitter!” Trixie said as she searched her brain cavity for anything to get out of it. When something came, she leaned in toward her. “Shouldn’t an employee of your elevated stature show a new employee such as myself how it’s done first?” “Of course not!” Flitter said, grinning ear to ear. “If I get much closer to that restroom than I already am, Ms. Chernobyl's ass fumes might melt my hair off. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” “B-but I…” Trixie stammered, trying to come with something, anything, to get out of doing this. Unfortunately, she came up blank. “Fine…” With the determination of post-9/11 airport security, she made her way towards the hellhole of a bathroom. By the time she reached the door, she could smell it. Not since Cheese Sandwich had come to town and left all of his cheeses out in the hot sun had she smelled anything nearly this foul. Somehow, she managed to slam the door open. Not since the 1998 Godzilla had she seen something so wretched and foul. Not since the season three finale had something so controversial plagued her senses. Not since the OJ Simpson verdict had she been so utterly devastated by what she saw. Not since she had a sleepover at Neverland Ranch with Michael Jackson had her senses been so violated. Not since she had played on the Tiger R-Zone had her eyes been so violently assaulted, perhaps even sexually. Not since her ex coltfriend approached the toilet releasing the fabled three stream had a mess so catastrophic in nature been witnessed. Not since she had come across something anti-feminist on 4chan did she feel so triggered. Not since Hurricane Katrina had she seen floodgates destroyed in this manner. Not since Hiroshima had she seen a bomb like this dropped. Not since Seventh Heaven and FamousLastWords (with MissytheAngle watching with great sorrow in the distance) started writing had she seen something so vile, so wretched and so undeservedly popular be released to the masses. And yet, somehow, it got worse. “THERE’S A BUCKING TAMPON ON TOP OF THIS PILE OF SHIT!” Author's Note Missy: Just so you know, we were not drunk or high in the making of this. Seven: She’s a lying skank, I was drinking the entire time and I’m proud of it. Famous: I can smell colors.
Day 2: Trixie Tries To Call In SickView OnlineTrixie Gets Part-Time Wages With Full-Time HoursDay 2: Trixie Tries To Call In SickTrixie moaned and groaned and tossed and turned in her bed. The alarm from her clock was blaring in her ear. She positioned her groggy head up to look at the clock. “Five-thirty?” Trixie could feel a tear escape her eye. “Why must the universe be so cruel? Who needs heart-attack inducing food this early in the morning?” She swore she could hear Flitter’s voice exclaiming ‘customers!’, and ‘always!’, and ‘right!’ along with other nonsense she would have no part of. You know what? She worked hard her first day. If anypony deserved a day off, it was her. Luckily, technology had finally reached from Manehattan out to Ponyville, so she had a telephone she would make great use of. “The Great and Powerful Trixie does not need Spike and Flitter’s garbage work, not today.” Trixie got out of bed at a pace that would make a slug jealous, and slogged her way over to where the telephone sat on top of the receiver. She snatched it and dialed up the number for Spike’s Salty Sandwiches… *Ring! Ring! Ring!* “C’mon, pick up you crazy pony.” After another few rings, the phone was picked up and Trixie almost lost control of the phone from the sheer volume protruding from the other side. “Thank you for calling Spike’s Salty Sandwiches on this lovely, super-terrific morning! What can I help you with?” “Oh, um, it’s Trixie,” the blue unicorn said, trying to sound as sick as she could. “Ahem, cough cough, wheeze and so on. I’m sick. I can’t come in, today.” “Oh, really?” Flitter asked. “That’s too bad.” “Oh, the Sick and Mournful Trixie knows and appreciates your un—” “It’s too bad because you’re on a point system! If you call in today, you’ll get fired the moment you turn up at work the next day after! I’d hate to let you go, but I’d still do it with a smile on my face.” Trixie’s jaw fell open. “B-But, there is no place in a food service environment for a sick Trixie. What if I make other ponies sick?” “Oh, you big ol’ silly willy, we have first aid kits for a reason! Just slap a band-aid on that cough and you’ll be all set!” “I— what?” “That’s the spirit!” Flitter’s static-y voice shouted through her phone. This mare is insane, Trixie thought to herself. “B-but Trixie is allergic to the material used to create band-aids.” “Not to fear, we have gauze tape!” Trixie smacked a hoof to her forehead in frustration. “Trixie does not like gauze.” “And Spike doesn’t like ponies calling out. Would you rather speak to him?” “Uh…” Flitter giggled. “I’ll take that as a no. So, I’ll just let Spike know that you’re going to be a little late and—” “No!” Trixie cut off her coworker. “I, uh, I want to talk to you some more, Flitter! Get to know you. Yeah, that’s it. So, Flitter, how was your day yesterday?” “My day went well! Nopony tried to call out, so I didn’t have to waste any of my time talking to ingrates on the phone!” Flitter happily answered. “What about you?” “...” “So, you’ll be here in a few minutes?” Trixie groaned. “But The Messy and Disheveled Trixie must properly wake up and do her mane and get dressed before addressing ponies?” “Nonsense! You’re not super attractive on a good day, so we can all handle you on a bad day!” “Now see here you little—” “Five minutes?” Flitter asked, her smile practically bursting through the phone and infiltrating Trixie’s personal space. “Meh, grr, five minutes…” “Great! See you then!” *Click!* There were few times in life that Trixie felt the actual need to use vulgarities toward another citizen. She had always tried her best to be above the cuff when it came to her personal vocabulary, but Flitter was an exception. “I hate that bitch…” The door to Spike’s restaurant, and Trixie’s personal Tartarus, opened with a ding. “Welcome to Spike’s— Oh, it’s just you, Trixie!” “Yes, yes, Trixie is here…” the groggy pony replied, coffee in hoof. “You know I hate you, Flitter, right?” “Well of course, but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to help you learn!” Flitter replied, a huge grin adorning her face. A grin that Trixie longed to wipe away. “Trixie does not need to learn anything about the fast food industry. This is merely a temporary job while I look for something with more opportunity for advancement.” “I mean… I’ve advanced pretty far. Spike even said that I can take over the restaurant when he retires!” Flitter replied, sounding excited about the chance. “Seriously?” Trixie replied. “I thought Celestia outlawed dictatorships” “Oh, that’s so funny!” Flitter cried out. “Now you better clock in before you’re fired on the spot!” Trixie grumbled and walked behind the counter to clock in. “Oh, no no no!” Flitter said. “You need to put on your uniform, first!” Trixie pointed at the signs of servitude she clearly had on her body. “Excuse me, but the Demeaned and Distressed Trixie clearly has her uniform on, already!” “Oh, that’s so funny, but you’re missing one glaring detail!” Flitter pointed at the back of her uniform. “You forgot to tie your apron!” “What? But? You’re not wearing an apron!” “That’s because I’m the assistant manager! I don’t have to reduce myself to your ranks!” “Then Trixie demands to be made into an assistant manager!” Flitter, for the first time, broke her normally even composure with uproarious laughter. “Hah! That’s a great joke, you didn’t tell me you were such a comedian, Trixie!” Trixie’s brows furrowed, and she growled a little. “Trixie is not wearing an apron.” “Alright, alright. I can tell you’re a very uptight pony,” Flitter nodded, her eyes closed. “I think we have a very suitable alternative for you.” “That’s more like it,” Trixie huffed. “This is not what Trixie had in mind.” Trixie stood in the main lobby, a pair of jean overalls adorning the front half of her body. Spike’s laughter could be heard from his office in the back of the restaurant. “Shut up, you stupid dragon!” “You lose a point, Trixie!” he shouted back.
The InterviewView OnlineTrixie Gets Part-Time Wages With Full-Time HoursThe InterviewBits. Everypony needs them. They make the world go ‘round and put food on the table. Nopony was an exception to this rule. Not even The Great and Powerful Trixie. Not that she was very Great and Powerful anymore. No, now she was stuck doing chump work to make a living. However, to understand her current state in life, we need to go back to the beginning. The beginning of the story of how Trixie got a job at… Spike’s Superb Subs and Salty Sesame Seeded Sandwiches!! “Alright, so, your resume states that you once slayed an Ursa Major. Tell me, how do you feel this situation prepared you for work in the service industry?” “The Great and Powerful Trixie provided a great service to the quaint town of Ponyville that day!” Trixie exclaimed, ignorant of the ponies in the restaurant lobby attempting to enjoy a peaceful lunch.. To her dismay, the pony conducting her interview didn’t look very impressed. “Could you go into more detail, if at all possible? A lot of ponies provide services in town. What makes you different?” “Unlike the simple, feeble-minded ponies of your average Ponyville citizen, Trixie has been enlightened by her many travels around Equestria,” she boasted. “Hmm, alrighty then. Now, onto work history. The only thing listed under this section is “Greatest Magician Ever”. However, it clearly states that your starting wages were twenty bits per show, but by the time this employment came to an end, you actually owed your audience money. Could you please explain this?” Trixie blinked, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t make her look like a total jackass. Then, like a tidal wave, it crashed over her. “Trixie began to perform for free, as a service to the many ponies of Equestria. After all, not everypony is privileged enough to pay for a ticket to see my wondrous displays of magic.” The manager blinked twice and shifted his tie, attempting to keep his professional demeanor. “I’m quite sure, Ms. Great and Powerful. Now, I think I’ve heard enough, but if for nothing more than my own amusement, allow me to ask the final question: What do you bring to the table?” “Please. Trixie brought the table itself.” Trixie cocked her head and grinned. “Now, when do I start?” “Yeah, about that… I think I’m going to have to confer with the store manager on this one. My people will call your people, you’re being wait-listed, et cetera. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” Trixie leapt out of her chair, slamming her front hooves onto the table in front of her. “Listen here, you third-rate excuse for a manager!” she exclaimed angrily, “Trixie will not be refused a job because you’re too much of a wimp to hire her on the spot! I demand to speak to your superior at once!” The manager sighed in complete frustration. “Fine, I’ll go get him. Don’t get your saddle in a wad.” He rose from his seat, shaking his head. Trixie fell back into her seat, her hooves crossed as she watched him leave the rather cramped lobby. She let out a huff. “That’s more like it. I’m tired of being treated like some common pony!” Trixie was ready for whatever big, corporate overlord came out to greet her. She would get her way, just like she always had. “Trixie? No freakin’ way…” Trixie looked up from her pose of superiority, and her eyes were greeted with the last face she expected to see. “Spike?” “You know, when my assistant told me I had a crazy unicorn out in my lobby demanding to see me, I just assumed it was Twilight, but I did not expect to see you again. May I please ask why you’re here as opposed to gallivanting across Equestria, parading yourself around like you usually do?” Trixie had to pause before responding. She couldn’t very well lower herself enough to tell him that she was out of work, especially given their past relations. “Hmph, Trixie is an economically minded mare at heart. She is simply trying to diversify her overall income. Now, how, may I ask, did you rise to such a status to become the store manager of a restaurant?” Spike chuckled, grinning at the boisterous mare. He slid into the seat across from her. “We both know you’re pretty confident, Trixie. You may not know it, but so am I. Of course, unlike you, I don’t go around bragging about myself.” He rolled his eyes, then sighed. “I ended up selling off a lot of my gems to open this restaurant, with Twilight’s help of course,” he added. “Now humor me. Why should I, someone you’ve wronged in the past, hire you?” Trixie was at a crossroads. On one hoof, she couldn’t stand the thought of serving as an underling to Spike, who was inferior to her in every way. On the other hoof, her stomach was constantly growling, and she needed some bits. And she was running out of options at this point. It was time to put that silver tongue to good use. “Well, as part of her ‘No Villain Left Behind’ act Twilight is pushing, she told me I should apply here to try and reassert myself into society… Yeah, that’s right. And, of course there were several other far more lucrative job offers on the table for Trixie to consider. But, given how she already knew you personally, Spike, she supposed she would take the opportunity to assist you here as opposed to exploring other options. This is purely a self-sacrificing affair on my part.” Spike shook his head and smirked. “You know, every instinct in my body is telling me this is a bad idea, but I can’t help but jump at the idea of you working under me. You’re hired.” Trixie’s eyes lit up. He was going to give her the job? Her lie had worked? She almost wanted to jump for joy, but she managed to keep herself composed. “Was there ever any doubt that you would—” “Oh, trust me, there was a lot of doubt.” “W-well, Trixie is grateful either way. What day would you like her to start?” “Tomorrow should be fine. Of course, I’ll need to consult Twilight about this, just to make sure you’re being completely honest with me.” Trixie gulped, but managed to keep it unnoticed. “O-oh. Well, I’m sure Twilight will give me a glowing recommendation,” she coughed out nervously. “Now, onto the matter of compensation?” Spike grinned. “Of course, the most important part. I normally make it a habit to pay at least twenty percent above minimum wage. Paying the lowest amount possible for an employee just seems dirty and makes me feel guilty. However, this is not the case with you. You get half a bit per hour. Deal?” “Wh-what?! B-but Trixie was told in the job advertisement that you would be paying two bits an hour!” she shouted angrily. “I could report you, you know!” “Right, and then you wouldn’t have a shop to work at anymore.” Trixie tried to fire back at him, but she could barely sputter out a word. After a moment, she relented. It was still money, at least… “Very well, Trixie will work for half a bit an hour,” she said through clenched teeth. “But mark my words, little dragon, soon I will be so far ahead in this fast food chain that you’ll be cleaning my private restroom for me!” “That’s great,” Spike said. “Now, show up tomorrow at seven in the morning, and we’ll have an apron and visor waiting for you. And don’t be late.” “Oh, I will,” Trixie replied confidently. With their talk having come to a close, Spike excused himself to the back of the restaurant, leaving Trixie alone. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she looked down at the table and sighed. “Buck, now I need to convince Twilight to lie for me.” Author's Note Seven: I'm sure you're thinking this is probably going to be very good. It isn't. Famous: You can literally judge this book by its cover.
