#fill out requisition forms and allocate resources to pull off the wish

[lightningarmour]

Some more weird shit from like 4 years ago I don’t remember writing

DING  Steve minimized his game of solitaire to check his inbox. A new req-wish-ition had come in under the designation "Deneb." He skimmed over the notice, looking for the meat and potatoes. "On thursday the 25th, at 1:13 am, blah blah blah" he muttered, passing over the formalities until he found what he wanted. "Blah blah blah, formally wished for a..." Steve blinked at the next word and let out a strained sigh. "Son of a bitch!" He said, now going back to the top and reading each line carefully. Trevor leaned over the cubicle wall which was allegedly there to divide their work stations, not that it was very effective at it. "What's up Stevey boy?" Trevor asked in with a level of genuine curiosity that only morons could posses. As much as Steve hated talking or even looking at Trevor, he was relieved that he had someone to vent at. "You will not believe the ridiculous wish I just got." He said, baiting Trevor to take a guess. "Oh man, must be something rough... Uh, world peace?" "No, what? No, The Wisher is an eight year old girl," He looked back at the screen, "Cindy Benson," he said with a sneer, "she wouldn't know what world peace means." "Oh, uh does she want to be a princess or like a vampire or like a vampire princess or something?" Steve squinted at Trevor "What kind of eight year old girls do you get wishes from?" "I dunno man, what is it then?" He asked. "A Pony, Trevor. A god damned Pony." Steve shook his head in disgust, but Trevor only looked more confused than he usually did. "That's it? C'mon man, Ponies are easy!" Trevor replied with a chuckle, like this was all some kind of big joke. Steve rubbed his eyes and said "No, Trevor, Ponies are not "easy", they're common, sure, but that's what makes them such a pain in the ass." "I don't see what's so difficult about a pony." He said. "How many Ponies have you granted, Trevor?" Steve asked him. "Uh, I don't remember off the top of-" "Didn't think so, Trev." Steve said, interrupting him. His patience was wearing thin with Trevor's obliviousness. "It's not like a puppy or a duck or something like that. The dog could be a stray, or a rescue from the pound or whatever. You can practically drop a duck on a kid's head and be done with it. You can't drop a Pony on a little girl, Trevor." "Well, maybe it could have fallen off a-" Trevor started. "Off of a what? A pony truck?" "Or it could have wandered off of a farm or-" "Farm? FARM?" Steve began to raise his voice, but then lowered it again, not wanting to cause a scene and draw more of an audience. He scanned the email again before saying "Bangor, Trevor. The girl lives in Bangor, Maine for Christ's sake. In the suburbs no less. Is a Pony just going to wander into her back yard?" Steve leaned back in his chair and spun around his cubicle, Trevor's stupid face blurring by every two seconds. He came to a stop and looked back up at Trevor. "This is going to be a month and a half of paperwork at least. I'm going to have to set up a radio contest or schedule a Circus or something to roll through town, but it can't just be any old day, I'll have to look up regional holidays and festivals and all that crap, then I dunno..." He sat in contemplation for a moment. "Maybe one of their ponies breaks a leg or something and they're going to put it down, but then I can get the Mom and Dad in there to make an offer or-" "You're gonna give a little girl a pony with a broken leg?" Trevor asked. Steve looked at him and saw an expression bordering on revulsion. "Hey, look this is a complicated fix to put in, okay? The kid should be glad to get a damaged pony, I could just as easily send her...." Steve's face brightened into a smile, and Trevor's slumped again into confusion. "That's it, Trevor, I can get her a stuffed pony!" "Stevey, the only thing worse than an injured Pony is a dead one, man!" Tevor said in disgust. "No, idiot, like a stuffed animal, or like one of those wooden rocking horse things" "Oh." Trevor said. He tilted his head a bit and fixed a blank stare on the photocopier for a few seconds. "That seems a bit disingenuous don't you think?" He asked. "Oh, please, don't make me recite policy. The kid didn't specify that it had to be a real living horse, so implementation of the wish is up to the granter's interpretation." Trevor raised an eyebrow. "I guess so." Steve let out a sigh. "I mean, she's eight. She doesn't understand the logistics of owning a pony. Even if I make one magically appear in her bedroom, her parents won't let her keep it, and it'll end in tears anyway. At least like this, she can still play pretend and it won't end with Precious taking a trip to the glue factory, eh?" Trevor considered Steve's words for a moment and then cheered up and said "Yeah, I guess you're right." "Exactly," Steve said, turning back to his computer, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pony to grant." "Sure thing Stevey boy!" Trevor said, retreating back into his own cubicle. Steve rolled his eyes and made violent gestures at the cubicle wall. "All right Cindy, your wish is my command.