Due to unforeseen complications (my backpack being left out in the rain one evening), the MIRRD used for this recording has been unfortunately damaged. I have recovered only three of the intelligible interviews to be transcribed here.

RECORDING 8: DAGGERSIDES

BENJAMEN: Good afternoon, I-... Well.
DAGGERSIDES: What's the matter? Something wrong, fella?
BENJAMEN: I was... well, I had heard that I would be meeting with a mercenary first.
DAGGERSIDES: Yep, you sure are. My name's Daggersides. What about yourself... uh... Sorry, I'm kinda thrown off by your appearance.
BENJAMEN: Likewise. I'm Benjamen Prodder, and as you might have heard, I am the current Development Coordinator here in Songring. Now-
DAGGERSIDES: Wait a minute... "Likewise"? What's that supposed to mean exactly? I'm not the oversized talking chimp here.
BENJAMEN: You're not. Moving on, I wish-
DAGGERSIDES: No, you said "Likewise". I want to know why. Likewise that you're thrown off by my appearance? Why is that?
BENJAMEN: Well, you're a mercenary?
DAGGERSIDES: Yuh huh.
BENJAMEN: I just expected you to be more...
DAGGERSIDES: ...
BENJAMEN: Fit.
DAGGERSIDES: The Nightmare you mean 'fit'?
BENJAMEN: Nothing. I would like to state that-
DAGGERSIDES: You just called me fat, didn't you? You judgmental bastard; Just who do you think you are?
BENJAMEN: You're taking this far out of proportion, Daggersides. I merely am surprised that someone who makes a life for themselves by fighting would be at less than their physical peak.
DAGGERSIDES: Fuck you too, needle neck!
BENJAMEN: Please control yourself, I just meant-
DAGGERSIDES: Y'know what? No. Screw you, screw your settlement, and I hope you all go up in flames. Good luck without me, dick. <Storming away>
BENJAMEN: <Sigh> For the record, Daggersides is a unicorn, sporting a dark wine-colored pelt that might be best called burgundy, as well as a mane resembling the color of sand on a river’s bank. Her cutie mark looked to be in the image of crossed blades, perhaps daggers or swords (They look most like a machete right now, but I assume that a few years and a few cakes ago, they were swords). As was just heard, she is notably portly and evidently very touchy about the subject. I'm currently questioning whether she's actually leaving, or if she's storming about outside in a tantrum about me calling her out-of-shape. We will have to see if the payment she is receiving from the Sun of Chance to work as a settlement defender is worth enough to handle my inadvertent verbal abuse. Yeah, she's still outside, and calling me names as well. Fantastic. At least she's of sound enough mind not to try to cut me with the weapons holstered on her harness.

RECORDING 9: TICK TOCK

BENJAMEN: Good evening, I'm Benjamen Prodder. Could you please tell me your name?
TICK TOCK: Oh, uhm, yeah, <clearing throat> Tick Tock, reporting for duty, Sir Prodder!
BENJAMEN: No need for theatrics, please. Just the name is fine. Tick Tock then. Sounds like you must be a watchmaker of sorts. Chronologist maybe?
TICK TOCK: I, uh, I guess you could say that. Yeah. Kind of.
BENJAMEN: Mind expounding on it?
TICK TOCK: Well, I like counting down a lot more than I like counting up.
BENJAMEN: Not really sure that I follow.
TICK TOCK: Okay, so I prefer erasing history over writing it down.
BENJAMEN: I'm going to pretend that you're making sense and continue conducting this interview normally. I notice that your tail is rather short. Docked for work purposes?
TICK TOCK: Work docked it for me, actually.
BENJAMEN: Oh, I see. Sorry to hear that. It must have been an unfortunate accident?
TICK TOCK: Yeah, happens when you play with fire.
BENJAMEN: And your cutie mark is... No.
TICK TOCK: What?
BENJAMEN: No. Just, no.
TICK TOCK: Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad. I thought it was pretty cool! Check it out!
BENJAMEN: <Sigh> For the record, Tick Tock is a peach-colored pegasus with bronze-flecked wings, a docked tail, an unkempt rust-colored mane, and... a cutie mark of a cartoon-style cast iron bomb.
TICK TOCK: Pretty sweet, right?
BENJAMEN: I don't even want to bother with this. Really? A demolitionist?
TICK TOCK: Hey! You got it!
BENJAMEN: Who hired you?
TICK TOCK: Huh-whu...?
BENJAMEN: Who. The. Hell. Hires. You. Ponies?! I want a name, and I want it right now.
TICK TOCK: Whoa... uhm, dude, if this is going to be a problem... I, uh... I can just go home. I mean, I don't want to make you mad or nothing, really.
BENJAMEN: Name!
TICK TOCK: I don't know! Just... some old rich colt! I promise! He's an investor or something here, said he thought I would be good for the job!
BENJAMEN: Trust me, this place is close enough to blowing up in my face without your expertise! Thanks!
TICK TOCK: Okay, I'm just going to go then... Sorry to waste your time, Mr. Prodder. Really, I uh... I just kinda wanted to be a part of something new, y'know? I just thought maybe I could help.
BENJAMEN: Did Willow already make you a bed?
TICK TOCK: Yeah?
BENJAMEN: Then go ahead and stay because we've already spent the resources. Not like I should be surprised by this...
TICK TOCK: You sure? I mean, if you want, I can just kind of… go away. Won't be a problem, really.
BENJAMEN: You know what? I don't care. Take your pick. We'll find something for you to do if you stay.
TICK TOCK: 'Kay. I won't let you down, Mr. Prodder!
BENJAMEN: Whatever.

RECORDING 10: BLUEPRINT

BENJAMEN: Good evening, I'm Benjamen Prodder. I am the current Development Coordinator for the settlement of Songring. Now could-... Stop that.
BLUEPRINT: Pardon?
BENJAMEN: Stop adjusting your glasses. See, there, that's four times. They're adjusted. Stop toying with them.
BLUEPRINT: Oh, hah, sorry about that... I just, it's a habit when I get nervous.
BENJAMEN: Well, stop it. Why are you nervous anyways?
BLUEPRINT: You're the overseer here, right? It's kind of intimidating... speaking with your new boss one on one. I mean, I could say something stupid, or I might make you mad in some way, or I could make a bad impression by getting gassy, or I might just do what I'm doing now and can't stop talking and digging myself deeper into my little hole because I'm getting really unnerved by the silence you're giving me. Please say something.
BENJAMEN: Sorry, I just... I was just somewhat curious how long you could go before you took a breath. Good lungs in you. What's your name?
BLUEPRINT: Blueprint is what I'm called most often. Guess it's kind of ironic that I'm an architect too, huh?
BENJAMEN: Coincidental.
BLUEPRINT: Huh?
BENJAMEN: It's coincidental. Not ironic. Irony is the expression of one's meaning by using words that normally represent the opposite. Coincidence is when two independent factors relate to each other seemingly by chance. It's coincidental, not ironic.
BLUEPRINT: Oh, well, I guess you're right then.
BENJAMEN: Stop adjusting your glasses.
BLUEPRINT: You're making me nervous! I can't help it!
BENJAMEN: And you're distracting me! Just hold on while I give the recording a physical description: Blueprint is, as her name implies, a blue-pelted earth pony with a snow-white mane. Her cutie mark seems to resemble a protractor, and she wears a set of circular eyeglasses to help with nearsightedness.
BLUEPRINT: Good guess on that one.
BENJAMEN: It's not a guess, it's an educated postulation.
BLUEPRINT: Okay, really, I'll accept the Irony vs. Coincidence argument, but how can you rationalize this? What's the difference here?
BENJAMEN: One... one just sounds more like I know what I'm talking about.
BLUEPRINT: Good leadership quality, Mr. Prodder. No, really, I mean it. Even if it is falsified sometimes, showing your subordinates a display of confidence and intellectual aptitude really makes them feel more comfortable in their roles and knowing that you will be there to make difficult decisions for them.
BENJAMEN: Nervous again?
BLUEPRINT: Long winded speech, huh?
BENJAMEN: And you won't stop readjusting your glasses.
BLUEPRINT: Dammit! <Gasp> Sorry... I, uhm, I mean...
BENJAMEN: It's fine. We're done here. Your skills will be very helpful here in Songring: Overcast could use some of your expertise with his construction projects.
BLUEPRINT: Who?
BENJAMEN: Finding him is not too hard. Just look for wherever the happiness and sunshine is being sucked from everything around, and in the center of the vortex you'll find Overcast.
BLUEPRINT: Interesting hyperbole, Mr. Prodder.
BENJAMEN: It's really only a metaphor.
BLUEPRINT: Sure it's not a simile?
BENJAMEN: A simile would be something along the lines of, "Overcast ruins the mood as often as Blueprint adjusts her eyeglasses." You do it again, I'm going to take them from you. Stop it.
BLUEPRINT: Okay! I get it! Sheesh!