Serious Business


                                            Serious Business

                                            by LyraHStrings


                                            >Be Anon E. Mous.

                                            >It was 8 am and you just clocked into your job at Big Office Company LTD

                                            >You had a presentation to make to some of the top brass about the widgets the company was making and how efficiency could be improved by 3.6%. Not great, not terrible. They probably wouldn't care much about it, anyways. Probably wouldn't even affect anything.

                                            >A coworker approaches you.

                                            >"Hey Mous, you got that big presentation at 10 right? I heard they're bringing in a bunch of bigwigs from head office to watch it, apparently a lot rests on this."

                                            >"Maybe even a promotion, eh?"

                                            >They give you a slap on your back.

                                            >"Man, if you ask me, I think they'll care about this a lot. It affects everything! If you get it wrong, they'll probably never let you even manage a box of cockroaches!"

                                            >You laugh, nervously.

                                            >"Don't sweat it. It'll be fine."

                                            "He-heh, yeah, Bill..."

                                            >"Catch you later!"

                                            >Bill took a bite out of a donut and waddled off to his cubicle.

                                            >You make your way to your small office, greeting the occasional coworker, and close the door behind you. You sit down and get out the folder you had put in your desk yesterday that contained all the vital materials needed to present this-

                                            >Where was it.

                                            >Where was the folder?

                                            >You left it. In the middle drawer of your desk.

                                            >Heh... good thing you made digital backups. Shouldn't be too hard to just print off all the materials again, you *did* have two hours until the presentation.

                                            >You pressed the power button on your computer.

                                            >The thing didn't even cry out in digital pain as it failed to start, or cough up dust from its filthy cooling fans.

                                            >There was nothing.

                                            >You pressed it again, angrily, only to be met with the same lack of reaction.

                                            >You checked to make sure it was plugged in- yep, it was receiving power. The power supply was functioning, the cable was plugged in all the way, there should be nothing wrong.

                                            >You sigh, rubbing your forehead.


                                            >You pick up the phone to call IT to get a guy up here. They could probably fix it before the presentation, right?

                                            >You punch in the call code for IT- though you did have to look it up, you usually don't need to call them for anything.

                                            >That's odd, there wasn't even a dial tone. It was like the phone line had been cut.

                                            >You put the receiver down and look behind your desk. The wires were still intact.

                                            >It's almost as if *something* was cutting off everything, through what means you don't know.

                                            >Suddenly, the dark corners of your office seemed a lot more sinister.

                                            >You warily got up, and made way for the door.

                                            >As you approached it, the blinds seemingly snapped shut on their own, the door lock twisting.

                                            >You tug on the door handle, rattling the decently heavy chunk of wood.

                                            "Hey! Whoever's responsible for this, it's not funny! Do you know how important this is? I could lose my job!"

                                            >The culprit was silent, for now.

                                            >You gasp as the room starts shaking, first a low rumble, then it was like an earth quake localized entirely within your office.

                                            "What the fuck...?"

                                            >The telephone rattled off of the desk, falling onto the floor and shattering into pieces, the monitor following suit.

                                            >You start to feel woozy, and the room started spinning. Whether it was actually happening or it was just your aching head, you weren't sure.

                                            >A sickly purple glow replaced the normally bright sunlight that usually streams through your window.

                                            >It seemed... tainted almost.

                                            >The rumbling seems to come to a crescendo- ceiling tiles were shaking themselves out of their mountings.

                                            >You look up only to be met with a faceful of plaster, which slams into your head and knocks you unconscious.


                                            ...


                                            I found myself in a field of flowers; dandelions. Wait, aren't those weeds? Whatever. I looked down at my hands only to see stumps- with hooves on the end! This didn't seem to alarm me, though. It was perfectly normal, after all.

                                            I got to my hooves and trotted around the small meadow, it was a beautiful day outside. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming. On days like these, ponies like me should be playing outside! Which I was... right? I pranced around and frolicked for an eternity, living out an entire life within that small meadow. Time seemed to be merely a construct as it faded away in favor of a carefree existence, happily playing forever within the green field.


                                            Something interrupted my perfect meadow. A dark blue shape... another pony! This one was much taller than me, I hope they wouldn't be mean because of how short I was... that'd be high school all over again.


                                            "What are you doing, young one?" the figure asked. Her mane flowed gracefully behind her.


                                            "Playing! Want to join me?" I responded in turn.


                                            She looked- for I had identified her as a she, now- amused, and told me, "Another time, perhaps. Who are you?"


                                            Who... was I? Who was I? I didn't know. I hadn't thought this far.


                                            "I don't know." I said, dejectedly.


                                            "You need to wake up." she urged me.


                                            "Why? I like it here." I wanted to go back to the field. This was starting to make me uncomfortable.


                                            "Wake up, Mr. Mous."


                                            "No!" I clenched my eyes shut. I didn't like this pony, I wished she would go away.


                                            She took a deep breath, and shouted as if we were a valley apart.


                                            "WAKE UP!"


                                            ...!


                                            >You take a panicky breath as your eyes shoot open, taking in your pristine office space from your position on the floor.

                                            >You shake your head, blinking, but stop as you note something odd about that motion.

                                            >You do it again- normally you kept your hair cut short. Your dad didn't let you grow it out, said he didn't want a beatnik for a son.

                                            >It was like your hair was dangling down to your shoulders... though you couldn't exactly feel those either.

                                            >Something was very not right.

                                            >You look down the rest of your body, and nearly slip back into unconsciousness as you see that your body structure was now entirely wrong.

                                            >You blink, and move your arms, which didn't want to bend in the normal directions they would.

                                            >Bringing them into your vision, you're greeted with the forelegs of a horse- hooves and all. But your proportions were all off; the joints bent in weird ways, and you think your head was the same size as your torso... chest... whatever you were going to call it.

                                            >You let out a small, surprised whinny.

                                            >You drag yourself over to your desk out of a pile of clothes and lean up against the front of it.

                                            >The door was still locked, and the blinds were closed, so there was that.

                                            >You were still dreaming, right?

                                            >You don't even remember what happened while you were out...

                                            >Something about a field and... flowers?

                                            >No, that wasn't it.

                                            >If this is a dream, you should try to work out what kind of dream it is.

                                            >If it's not a dream... well, that'd just be silly. You! A pony!

                                            >You didn't think what you did at home would come into your work life like this.

                                            >You did browse that pony transformation thread a lot... maybe this was still a dream? Just a play from your subconscious?

                                            >It was so real... maybe you should assume you really are a pony, just to be safe.

                                            >Think, think... what did you have to do?

                                            >Oh, shit.

                                            >The presentation!

                                            >Your eyes shoot up to the clock you had hung on the wall-

                                            >The time was 9:30 AM. You had less than 30 minutes to get your shit together and get up to the meeting room.

                                            >Even as you had that last thought you saw the minute hand tick over to 9:31.

                                            >Clock is ticking, Anon. Clock. Is. Ticking!

                                            >First things first, movement. You wouldn't be able to present shit if you couldn't even get yourself off of the ground.

                                            >You get to your hooves after some struggle.

                                            >Walking should be easy, right?

                                            >You try to think, logically, about how a pony should walk.

                                            >Left foreleg, left hind leg, right foreleg, right hind leg, repeat.

                                            >Yeah, easy!

                                            >You're trotting around the room in no time.

                                            >Secondly, the presentation itself...

                                            >Two part A, your materials.

                                            >You have none of the helpful materials you had made last night, so you'd have to improvise...

                                            >you grab a pencil and paper in your mouth, setting them on your back, and hope you could reconstruct some of the graphs.

                                            >Two part B, your appearance.

                                            >Well, you were a pony. And naked.

                                            >You didn't think that was company regulation attire.

                                            >You look down at the pile of clothes on the floor... maybe you could salvage something from that?

                                            >Pants were out of the question, unfortunately. You didn't see yourself getting those on.

                                            >But the jacket...

                                            >You pick up the suit jacket in your mouth, trying to drape it across your horse-shoulders so you could wiggle your forelegs through.

                                            >After a few minutes of struggling, you manage to get it on snug over your chest and forelegs.

                                            >Technically you weren't supposed to wear the jacket without a dress shirt to go with it, it was improper.

                                            >You think you're beyond proper manners at this point.

                                            >You check the time- 9:40!

                                            >You had wasted 10 minutes already!

                                            >You pick up your paper and writing utensil again, setting them on your back after they had fallen off.

                                            >You stand up on your hind legs to peer through the blinds, and they fall off again.

                                            >With an annoyed snort, you give up on materials. This would be a strictly oral presentation.

                                            >There didn't look to be anyone outside...

                                            >Right. It was the 9:30 break. That you had instituted.

                                            >You considered how to unlock the door as you carefully backed yourself off of it.

                                            >You decide to just try to grap the little tab in your mouth...

                                            >Ew. The door handle tasted less than ideal.

                                            >The door swung open, though, and you poked your head out into the hallway.

                                            >Good, the coast was clear.

                                            >You got down low to the ground and attempted to sneak through the office.

                                            >You had a perilous journey ahead of you- you'd have to either take the stairs or the elevator up two floors.

                                            >Those were both on the other side of the building.

                                            >This was going to be a trip.


                                            >You take a deep breath and start moving through the office row after row, peeking around the edge of the cubicle to make sure nobody stayed behind.

                                            >You knew there was at least one chronic hard-worker; Jane.

                                            >You think you can get to the elevators without coming close to her cubicle, though.

                                            >You rounded the corner only to see Jane walking towards you, looking down at some documents in her hands.

                                            >You must've taken a wrong turn at Alburqueque's cubicle...

                                            >Panicking, you dash into the nearest cubicle and hide under a desk, behind a trashcan, peeking out.

                                            >She walked by, before stopping and turning around.

                                            >"Oh, whoops, nearly walked by mine!"

                                            >You let out a sigh of relief as she enters the cubicle across from you. You could've sworn she was going to come into the one you were hiding in.

                                            >You soon realize a new problem.

                                            >Her desk faces the hall.

                                            >She straightens her papers and files them away, sitting down to get to work.

                                            >You only have a few minutes to get to the elevators before people started coming in off their break, you have to act fast.

                                            >You decide to make a run for it- if she sees you, hopefully you'll already be gone.

                                            >You take a deep breath to prepare, and you throw yourself out from the desk, knocking over the trashcan and dashing down the hall.

                                            >You trip over your own hooves- galloping wasn't nearly as easy as you thought it would be- and eat shit, sliding a few feet on the carpet before coming to a hault.

                                            >You frantically try to get to your hooves, and you hear Jane say something along the lines of "What was that?"

                                            >You see her head start to turn your way, and you spring into action, speeding down the passageway and skidding around the corner.

                                            >You poke your head back around the corner and see her shake her head and walk back into her cubicle.

                                            >You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and you sit down, leaning against the wall to catch your breath, panting from what you just went through.


                                            >After an uneventful trot, you're at the elevator.

                                            >You didn't want to try tackling stairs, anyways. Running was hard, you didn't know if stairs would even be possible for you. Or safe.

                                            >You press the up button, and wait.

                                            >You don't think anyone is going to be taking the elevator.

                                            >As the door opens, you nearly walk into someone coming out.

                                            >"Oh, excuse me- what the hell?"

                                            >You were face to face with a person- someone you hadn't seen before.

                                            >They were like you- well, before your current appearance- middle aged, short hair, suit, tie.

                                            >"Well aren't you just the strangest little thing? Are you lost?"

                                            >They bend down to reach a hand out, presumably to pet you, and you flinch away.

                                            >"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. You know, you kind of look like a... pony, I think, from that show my daughter likes. Nice suit! Who made that for you, huh? Who's your owner?"

                                            >You back up into the elevator, wordlessly standing up on your hind legs and smacking a hoof against the button marked 15.

                                            >You wave goodbye as the doors close and the man sits there, baffled.

                                            >Hopefully he'd forget all that and think it was a hallucination, and take the day off.

                                            >You prepare for your next challenge as the elevator doors roll open with a ding, announcing your arrival.

                                            >There was no one immediately outside.

                                            >The display on the wall says that the time is 9:47... you had to get to the board room!

                                            >Which was, thankfully, not on the other side of the office building.

                                            >A quick peek around the corner revealed that the floor was swarming with employees- this was a very busy time of day, after all.

                                            >The only way you were getting through this is by hiding in plain sight.

                                            >You take a moment to look at yourself in the reflective surface of the elevator- you hadn't had the chance to see what you looked like before.

                                            >You had a lighter coat, tan or white you couldn't really tell.

                                            >Your mane was a reddish-orange, drifting down behind your head and falling into neat curls on either side of your face.

                                            >Your eyes were a vivid blue, but your features were undeniably feminine.

                                            >You were a mare.

                                            >You open and close your mouth, swivel your ears, and turn your head side to side.

                                            >The mare in the mirror copied your movements... that was definitely you.

                                            >You turned away, straightening your mane and jacket with a snort. This was something you'd handle- or hoof-dle?- later.

                                            >You hold your head high and walk confidently around the corner.

                                            >Immediately, everybody stops what they're doing and looks at you.

                                            >You nod as you walk past someone.

                                            "Good morning." you hear yourself say.

                                            >They just look at you, confused.

                                            >What, haven't you seen a talking horse before?

                                            >You roll your eyes and continue to the boardroom.

                                            >A confused, but on point intern scrambles to open the door for you.

                                            >You nod your appreciation and enter.


                                            >The intern closes the door behind you and you take your place at the front of the room, in front of the projector.

                                            >Every chair was filled.

                                            >You recognized the CEO of the company, several people from head office, and your own boss.

                                            >There were a lot of people you didn't, though.

                                            "I apologize for my current appearance. I was... disfigured in an industrial accident. Anon Mous, floor manager."

                                            >They all stare at you, not sure of what to do.

                                            >The clock on the wall says 10:00. You were right on time... you're not sure why they were so surprised. Sure, you were a pony, but they were professionals.

                                            "Excuse my lack of presentation materials. I had a slideshow, and relevant documents prepared last night, however they were missing from my office this morning. I trust this isn't going to be a problem, and I can go on?"

                                            >You turn towards the CEO.

                                            >Everyone looks at him, as well. He slowly, confusedly, nods his head. Good, they understand you, that's a relief.

                                            "Alright, then, I will proceed. Our earnings in the last quarter were good, but they could be better. Today, I will..."


                                            >Be John Doe, founder and CEO of Big Office Company LTD.

                                            >You had lots of experience in your field of widget making, and you had seen a lot of shit in your years.

                                            >But now?

                                            >You have no idea what the fuck's going on.

                                            >You watch as the new intern, Michael, you think his name is, let this thing in.

                                            >She nodded at him, and Michael closed the door.

                                            >The pony then proceeded to trot up to the podium, in front of the projector, and began addressing you all in an incomprehensible slurry of horse noises.

                                            >Wasn't Mous supposed to be here, conducting this presentation?

                                            >Was this some sort of joke?

                                            >You glance at the rest of the board members.

                                            >They seemed just as perplexed as you were, though one of them, Chris, seemed really excited.

                                            >The little mare seemed quite well dressed, though, they had a very nice suit jacket on.

                                            >You simply sit there, watching her "talk."

                                            >She turns to you with a short neigh, tilting her head as if asking a question.

                                            >Everyone looks at you.

                                            >You turn to the board members, giving a slight shake of your head and a shrug to say "I don't know what's going on either" and nod to the pony.

                                            >They let out a satisfied whinny, and go back to "talking."

                                            >You sit and listen to the mare for a while, nodding your head appreciatively occasionally.

                                            >They almost seemed... human. Probably just your silly monkey brain personifying animals. Anon would show up any time, now.


                                            >Be Anon

                                            >The presentation was going great, you had everyone's attention.

                                            >They didn't seem to be taking notes... ah, well, you'd send out the presentation and relevant documents in an email when you got back to your office.

                                            >You concluded your speech, and asked them, "Any questions?"

                                            >They stood up and applauded, and Mr. Doe spoke.

                                            >"Thank you for such a wonderful presentation, Ms, ah, mare! I'm sure you worked very hard on it. We'll definitely take those points into consideration."

                                            >You smiled at him. You had! A shame all the other stuff got lost.

                                            >"In fact, I think it deserves a raise!"

                                            >He stands up and approaches you, and he scritches your ears.

                                            >With his other hand he scratches your chin.

                                            >You lean into his hand... wait, no, this isn't right!

                                            >He's your boss, you're both professionals, and there's so many people around...!

                                            >Why does this feel so good?

                                            >His hands moved down to your chest and the part of you protesting this treatment shriveled up and died as he rubbed up and down your neck.

                                            >You let out a soft snort and fall to the ground, a shiver running down your spine.

                                            >He laughs, rubbing your belly.

                                            >When his hands made contact with your soft belly fur, you completely forgot everything you were worried about earlier. They didn't matter anymore.

                                            >"Someone's a silly girl, aren't they?"

                                            >You don't reply, and simply sit there, overwhelmed by the sensations.

                                            >Eventually they stop, and you long for more.

                                            >You neigh softly at him, and he scoops you up and starts walking out of the room.

                                            >"Sir, don't you think we should try to find who this belongs to-"

                                            >"I'm the CEO, if they want their pony back they can come take her from me. I'll be in my office. Get me a bowl and fill it up with water, please? I'm sure the little mare is thirsty."

                                            >He gives you more rubs while carrying you, and you realize how exhausted you were.

                                            >You start to doze off in his arms... you don't even remember what got you so worked up in the first place.

                                            >You drift away, all tuckered out from the events of that day.

                                            >You needed a nap.


                                            fin