When Treble Clef told ponies that she worked for the Clocktower Society, she always got strange looks. Most ponies assumed she worked as a concubine, prostitute, stripper, showgirl — you know, one of the million perverted possibilities that came with working at a place like the Society.

However, no one ever really appreciated the fact that the Society required one hell of a support staff to run their daily operations. There were the bartenders who mixed drinks, the security stallions who made sure consent was obeyed, the poor poor janitors who had to, well… you could imagine easily enough what exactly they had to deal with on a daily basis. Then there were the managers, the board of directors, delegates to foreign and domestic governments, maintenance crews, engineers, an HR department which was incredibly understaffed, and of course there was her department, the control room.

The control room was a feature of every Clocktower Society installation, a little office where anywhere from two to a dozen ponies sat around, watching monitors and making sure that everything was running smoothly.

For installation C-165 (The Whinnyapolis Branch), this room employed fifteen ponies, operating in three five-pony teams.

Treble’s was the one assigned to the graveyard shift.

“Alright team,” Treble Clef’s manager, Windy Cyclone, said, “It looks like the flame of devotion is running at one hundred percent efficiency today, so no national disasters appear to be on the horizon.”

This was met with a half-hearted ripple of applause.

Windy was a towering hulk of a mare, with a bright orange mane that had been shaved down to a fine stubble. If you were looking through the dictionary for the word butch, you were likely to see a picture of her next to it.

“Now just for a few pieces of housekeeping,” she continued, “I want everyone to know that our shipment of marecum has been delayed, and as such, we need to pay special attention to the bar tonight. We can expect severe shortages, and you know how ponies get when they can’t get their hooves on…”

“Their urine-soaked cocktails?” Bountiful Harvest joked.

Bountiful Harvest was the newest pony here. They had joined the team a few months back coming fresh out of college.

Windy snorted. “Yes, that. As such, after six I want Cryptic to keep a watchful eye on the bar. Think you can do that?”

Cryptic nodded. “Sure, thing boss. Though I might need some help covering the cuddle den, that place is always busy on Thursdays.”

Cryptic Message was a former officer in the Royal Army’s intelligence agency. Though his loyalty had turned out to be easily bought when the society snatched him up by adding an extra ten grand to his already sizeable annual income.

Windy clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Treble, you think you can offer him an extra pair of eyes?”

“Sure, thing boss,” Treble said, saluting. “Though, can I interrupt you for a moment?”

“What’s up?”

Treble scrolled through her various monitors until she found the problematic status report. “Looks like maintenance forgot to change the water filters for the pet den. Think you can get someone on that? They’re starting to look pretty scary.”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” Windy drew a hoof down her face. “They forgot to change them again?”

“Looks like it, boss.”

Windy growled. “Those fucking idiots. I have half a mind to shove my hoof so far up Nut’s ass…”

She swung her foreleg forward, just in case anyone was curious about what that hypothetical hoof fisting would’ve looked like.

“Judging by what he does in his off time, he’d probably enjoy that,” Lilac murmured, garnering a few chuckles from her team.

Lilac was Bountiful’s sister, brought on when it was revealed that the staff needed to make a diversity hire and bring on a token cishet pony to tackle the duties of watching the hetero stalliondoms. A thankless job that they were all very thankful about not having to do.

“You’re probably right,” Windy growled. “Anyways, where was I?”

“We're short on mare piss,” Cryptic mumbled under his breath while clicking away at something.

“Right, right. Anyways, I want everyone to remember that next Wednesday is our monthly open house, so we should expect a bunch of first timers to come through our doors. Which means stay vigilant for missing collars or abused safewords.”

Everyone groaned.

Windy lifted a hoof, calming them back down to near silent grumbling. “Look, look, I know you all hate newbies, but the flame of devotion requires that we fuck and if we don’t have enough ponies to do the fucking, we’re in a tight spot here. Remember, we need to keep the flame going unless we want the world to fucking die.”

“I know but…newbies suck,” Bountiful muttered.

“Do I have to repeat myself here,” Windy said. “We’re trying to avoid the world turning into a massive snowball. Sometimes sacrifices need to be made.”

“Ok. But… newbies,” Treble chimed in.

“We were all newbies at one point,” Windy explained, motioning to the room. “Well… except for Cryptic… and you, Treble.”

Treble flushed. “Look, I just haven’t found the right pony to surrender myself to, yet. I swear, I still have plenty of time to get into bondage and all that weird sex stuff that goes on here.”

Windy waved her hoof. “Yeah, yeah, we ain’t judging. Like I said, the flame is burning strong so we don’t need to start conscripting randos into our sex games.”

Bountiful looked at Cryptic. “How do you even manage to watch all the stuff that goes on here?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, glancing at them.

“Well, you’re ace? Isn’t sex like repulsive to you?”

Cryptic snorted. “I once spent three months disguised as a blood diamond merchant in southern Griffonia. Let me tell you, watching a couple of boomers going at it, while doing petplay, is nothing compared to that.”

“Celestia’s sake,” Windy muttered, rubbing the bridge of her snout. “Are all your stories grim?”

Cryptic picked up his mug – which lacked any novelty - and took a sip. “Pretty much.”

“Anyways,” Windy continued, “just a few final pieces of news. First off, Orange Grove in Engineering just gave birth.”

“Oh my gosh, is it a colt or a filly?” Treble gushed. “I bet it’s so cute.”

“From what I heard it was a pair of beautiful little fillies. If any of you are interested, Carol from HR is posting a well wishes card in the staff room for anypony who wants to sign it.”

The gathered ponies mumbled promises to do so, murmuring amongst themselves.

Windy raised her brow and her staff’s conversation died down, allowing her to return to the list. “Second, management has deemed our department, the department of the month…” This was greeted by a round of applause and light cheering, “and will be shipping donuts to us next Saturday as a reward. Though, due to HR complaints, I would like to remind you that no, it isn’t witty to call them a dozen assholes.”

“Oh, come on,” Lilac grumbled. “They totally look like them.”

“What are you, twelve?” Bountiful asked. “Grow up.”

“I am grown up.”

“Oh please, you’re still scared to tell mom that you’re working for the Society.”

Lilac’s face lit up. “I don’t want her to be disappointed!”

Bountiful huffed. “Her and dad are literally members, Lily”

“Wait…what?” Her expression paled. “Ew, ew, ew. I didn’t need to know that.”

“Bountiful, please don’t antagonize your sister,” Windy grumbled.

“She started it!”

“And I’m ending it.” Windy loudly cleared her throat. “Anyways! One last thing to note. On Friday, our department will be competing against the cockworshippers at Volleyball. If you’re on the team, try to make it out, and if not, I’d still love to see some cheering fans.”

“I thought we took on the cockworshippers last week?” Treble asked.

“No, that was the sissy subs.”

Cryptic shook his head. “There’s a difference?”

“Maybe…” Windy shrugged, “they seem to think so and that’s what’s important.” She glanced at her crew. “Anyways, anymore questions? Or can we get started?”

When no one responded, Windy nodded to herself. She was about to turn away but something stopped her.

"Actually..." She sighed, "I think I'm gonna give a little inspiration speech."

Cryptic chuckled. "Bestow your wise words upon us, glorious leader."

Windy rolled her eyes. "We see a lot of weird shit doing this job, both figuratively and literally. We see ponies old enough to be our parents doing kinks we could never dream of, we see rooms get covered in every bodily fluid and byproduct imaginable, and we see all sorts of really weird and messed up stuff. Like fuck, I didn't even know what unbirth was until I started working here." She shook her head. "But do try and remember that by making this sacrifice, we literally ensure that Equestria isn't going to fucking die. So... so let's try and make this a good day, alright?"

She picked up her coffee and downed it, smacking her lips as she discovered a certain… flavour.

“Actually, one last thing…” she muttered under her breath.

Treble glanced at Bountiful, the two of them hiding their snickers behind their hooves.

“What is it, boss?” Bountiful asked, hardly able to conceal their laughter.

“Which of you assholes nutted in my coffee?”

Author's Notes:

Well it finally dropped and I hope all of you enjoy it, especially those in the CTS.

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