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Chapter I: Recalled to Life

>Bloody weather. Bloody, bloody weather!
>Has to be pissing it down something vicious...
>Although it is better than the previous winter with the snow up to your shins, your car battery's flat and your neighbour's half-mile away...
>Country living...
>Another red light. Mind you, the school ain't far away so you're in no danger of being late...
>‘Just check the clock again, Anon, alright? Just to make sure...’ 
>9:28am
>You're not due there 'til 10am anyway...
>An interview in the middle of the winter break. Must be bloody desperate...
>Mind you, after the last 3 months you've had...
>‘No, don't dwell on the past, look forwards, look forwards’
>Oh Lords Above! Look forwards, it's a green light!
>Anonymous J. Endeavour, (formerly)Senior Professor of History at Holm Coltrum University, out on his arse and soon-to-be teaching history to brain-dead teenagers in some middle-rank inner-city slum school!
>Possibly, anyway. You still had to pass the interview...
>‘Do you think it'll come up?’
>‘More than likely, it made the national papers, didn't it?’
>You shake your head to clear the cobwebs. Concentrate on the road, man.
>Another right turn and it'll be here, on Pascoe Avenue...
"FUCK ME SIDEWAYS! IS THIS IT?"
>You exclaim at the sight of the grand purple-brick building, topped with a glass dome, on your right.
>Holm Coltrum's Shire Building isn't this vulgar! Even East Trottingham Jr. High isn't this ostentatious and that's something for them posh buggers!
>But yes, this resplendent building, big enough to house the government in, is Royal Canterlot High School. You were expecting something like Edghampton High School; a gray Brutalist structure  
>It would look even better if the weather wasn't so crap...
>9:34am
>You whizz round the back of the building to find the car park, as per told. You spot a few cars; a light gray saloon, a sporty looking white saloon, a couple of hatchbacks...
>You park your red Rover next to the gray one and grab your tan Macintosh coat off the back seat.
>Picking up your satchel bag, you leg it to the main building's side doors.
>Safely inside, you take a deep breath and head for the school offices.
>9:37am
>Following the signs, your mind starts to wander...
>Will she be conducting the interview? Makes sense, she is the school principal...
>It's been years...
>You were also told that the local schools superintendent will be present.
>Not surprising, the job wasn't just a history teacher, but head of the department...

>Jeez, it’s no wonder the predecessor was a drunkard. Dealing with brain-dead students and a brain-dead faculty...
>What fun...
>So who'll be driving this interview then?
>9:41am
>You knock on the door and it squeaks open to reveal an empty office...
>Carpeted in an itchy burgundy cloth and painted a drab beige, the room was like the offices at the university. Even the potted plants look the same.
> Several closed doors, one of which must lead to your doom.
"Hello? Anybody at home?"
>You say as you catch a glimpse of yourself in a wall mirror.
>Taking out your handkerchief, you wipe off some of the water off your white bald head and straighten up your green moustache. How tastefully middle-class...
>As you slip the hanky back into an inner pocket, one of the doors open.
>It's her...
>Your chest and throat close up at the sight of her
>Her vanilla white skin, her magenta eyes, her multi-coloured pastel shades of hair...
>"Endeavour. It's been too long, hasn't it?"
>Her voice, like butter to the ears...
"Celly... Principal Celestia, I mean... of course, you're right, like usually. It's been too long. 
>You take her outstretched hand and gently shook it.
>"You're still such a gentleman..." She softly coos
>You blush; your own icy skin going red.
>Bloody hell, the old tease...
>"When you old lovebirds stop reminiscing, will you two come in, please?
>A third voice proclaimed.
>"Right away, Superintendent. Come on, Anon."
>Still remembers it.

>In the office, a large ornate desk with three chairs, two bookcases and more of that itchy carpet
>In one of the chairs sat a lean and lanky figure.
>While Celly looks like she was moulded by the deities, he looks like he was chiselled by stonemasons.
>Not that it's an insult, he's striking to look at; slick-back blond hair, going white. Slate grey skin, slightly wrinkled. Sharp red eyes, one yellowed by years of being bloodshot.
>He stood from his chair and offered his hand. You warmly took it
>"I'm Superintendent Paradox Discord, in charge of the high schools in the tri-county area. But people call me Dizzy."
"Professor Anonymous Endeavour, formerly of Holm Coltrum University."
>You slip your coat off on to a coat-rack and sit opposite them. And he began.
>"Professor, I would like to say I am pleased to have a man of your academic calibre apply to our pokey little establishment."
>‘Like I had a choice. Either this or liver cirrhosis…’
>You smile and nod.
"Thank you, Superintendent."
>"I mean it, a man of your background coming here? Quite the step down, wouldn't you say?"
"You may be right, sir. Considering my last two teaching posts were at prestigious universities, but surely this fine high school is one of the best in the tri-county."
>You did some research and it's true; Royal Canterlot is second only to East Trottingham High. Well, third best if you count Crystal Prep but they're a fancy private fee-paying school, not a public one.
"And besides, sir, I always relish a challenge. Teaching high schoolers is no different to teaching uni students."
>Celestia asks the next question
>"Professor, I have to question your relative inexperience at leading faculty departments though. Yes, your background in teaching is excellent but you haven't spent a long time in charge though. So what can you bring?"
>You scratch your neck in thought.
>‘Careful how you answer this one, matey. Answer it by not answering it! Of course!’

"Your concern is noted, Principal. My resume will say I spent five years at Holm Coltrum and three of those were in charge of the History, Law and Politics department. Despite I have no law or political education, I was still entrusted to lead the department and lead it well might I add. Maybe my youth, determination and enthusiasm helped increase the number of graduations and exam results."
>Both nod and take notes.
>"Now, Professor, I must touch upon a sore subject" Superintendent Discord said.
>"Is this necessary, Discord?" Celestia asked cautiously
>‘Fucking called it.’
>You tip your eyebrows down as he begins to drag you through the mud.
>"Your own personal life and the actions of your deceased wife have made national news, there's no getting away from that so someone in my position must take precautions by asking such... 
>He pauses to think
>"Invasive questions."
>He grins slightly as Celestia looks rather downcast.
>"Can you be trusted to not have inappropriate relationships with students? Can you be trusted to protect any students? Can you be trusted to make sure that the students will not come to harm?"
>You knew such questions will be asked but not as blunt as this
"I'm sorry, Superintendent, I don't understand your line of questioning. I never had an inappropriate relationship with any of them and I've been teaching for the better part of 19 years and never once had I questioned my own personal integrity or my duties as a teacher."
>"But questions must be raised by what your wife did..."
"What she did and didn't do is not the subject of this interview. I am."
>"But I must say, you could argue that you have been acting ignorantly or worse, recklessly..."
"I didn't do anything wrong."
>"But your wife did. What she did was inexcusable; to ruin so many lives...
"LOOK!"
>You shout angrily, stepping out of the chair.

"What my wife did was disgusting, yes, but don't you dare drag me down to her level. All I have now is my good reputation and it means nothing if you keep tying my wife to it! Keep her out of it or I'll have to reconsider our age difference and the noble traditions of teaching and wallop you one."
>The silence seems to last for ages, no-one dares to talk. You remained stood up, not willing to back down.
>Then, Discord simply chuckled.
>"Look Celestia, we haven't offered our guest anything to drink! Tea or coffee, Professor?"
>You sat down, still angry.
"Tea, thank you"
>"Would you kindly make us a pot of tea, Celestia?"
>She looks nervously between the two of you and quietly stands up and leaves.
>An awkward silence falls but again, Superintendent Git just grins slightly.
>"Sorry about that, Professor" Discord finally says, "such questions must be asked, no matter how distasteful they are."
>You simply nod.
>"I've gathered from what Principal Celestia has said about you is that you're an honest and good-natured man. So slapping me isn't in your best interests. But if I caused offence, I apologise.
>Again, that bloody grin. He's a smug man. Maybe play him at his own game...
"Apology accepted and I want to say sorry for my brazen attitude and threats of violence. It just isn't me."
>"But it's good to see someone with fire in their belly though." Discord says confidently, "the faculty here are lazy, boring so-and-so's. I think you'll be a breath of fresh air. Especially after its recent history..."
>He coughs and shuffles some papers in a vain hope to find a new subject.
>"You're from Oxbridge, aren't you? Not just Baillie College but also Eastvale High.”
"Up the Rovers?"
>He smiles again, "Go Bullhorns"
"A Bullworth Boy? Never would have guessed you're an Oxbridger as well."
>"We're all locals, aren't we? Me, you and Celestia..." he grinned.
>The door speaks open
>‘Speak of the Devil and she'll appear.’
>"Tea's up." Celestia mentions as she puts the tray down.
>"Thank you, my dear. I'll pour." Discord grabs the pot and pours
>‘Hot, steamy tea action! Yeah!’
>You inwardly grin at your observation.
>You add milk and take a polite sip
>"Now, Professor Endeavour, I am prepared to recommend you to the board to take the position here but some may find it hard to simply gloss over your ... chequered past but I know which way the wind blows. They're desperate, this position needs filling and, to be honest, the applicants are low..."

>A hour later and you're strolling through the hallways with Celestia in tow, wishing to be polite and walk you out.
>"We are doing a couple more interviews, though, but, you're easily the most qualified to apply, Anonymous. What happened though at the college? I thought you were happy there."
"I was but they weren't, the new Chancellor likes yes men within her circle and boring people without. Someone like me wasn't gonna stick around, even if what happened didn't happen..."
>"I am sorry about him. I knew he wanted to discuss it but I wish he wasn't that tackless, Anon"
"Celly, stop worrying, I can handle types like him; oily, arrogant bastards who think they can walk on water. Universities are all full of them."
>She gives you a light smile and starts to look around.
>"I think you'll enjoy it here. It's a good school, a happy one...
>Maybe she’s smiling but you can tell she's thinking of something else
"Celestia Orbis, I can read you like a book. There's something you're not telling me. What's been going on?
>"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
>After the autumn you'd had, you can believe anything.
>"One day, I might, Anon, but not today."
>The two of you continue on in silence until you reach the side doors to the car park.
>"There are good students here. I think you'll like some of them."
"I bet you're right."
>"You'll be happy here."
>Despite your bulk, you pulls you into a hug. One you really need.
>It's a miracle you kept it platonic, mind you...
"Thanks, I needed that."
>"Any time. You want to get a coffee sometime? To catch up and reminisce?"
"Aye, I think I'll enjoy that. And thank you for not asking about what happened."
>"I don't want to know what happened. All I know is that you were used and abused."
" 'Til next time then, Principal"
>"We'll let you know, Professor"
>You leave and rush back to the car, avoiding the rain.

>You sigh loudly.
>Out of all the applicants in the county...
>Him...
>You see him rush back to his red car and see him look back.
>You grin and wave at him. He still gets all nervous, even after all these years.
>He's a good man, bound by tragic circumstances...
>You sigh again, you hope Discord wasn't blowing smoke up his bottom.
>You do want to see more of him.
>He needs a friend. Now more than ever...

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Chapter II: A Pinch of Snuff

>Hidden by the forest of the Everfree, lies the small town of Coltram.
>Follow the roads that take you westward from Canterlot and Lake Everfree  and they'll show you some of the most gorgeous woodlands the State has to offer.
>There's a summer camp on the edges of the Lake that the city slickers send their kids to get in touch with nature. Well, they did until it closed last summer anyway...
>You'll have to travel through the winding trees and beautiful vistas to reach the large farming plains known as Holm Vale and the sleepy town that sits in it.
>Continue along these roads and you'll end up in the outer suburbs of Oxbridge. Or head northwards and you'll find yourself in the sprawling city of Trottingham.
>But Coltram itself was originally nothing more than a village where the farmers would sell their goods. That was until the agricultural college was founded in God knows when
>When the college became a part of the State University 40 years ago, the village grew with it.
>From agricultural studies and animal husbandry to business studies and hotel management, all within a generation... 
> Nowadays, it's largely split by the "town and gown" divide but it's pretty easy to find yourself in the newer University district; you can tell by the terrible traffic and crap parking.

>The weather was clearing up now. The clouds were still grey and heavy but at least is wasn't raining.
>Your car was simply eating up the miles. You know where you're heading to.
>Not just Coltram, not just the University district but a restaurant and bar called Farmers' Market. It's where the staff go to if they can't stomach the cafeteria and the senior common room. Besides, you're not faculty there anyway so you're not allowed.
>Taddy Caster, Head of the Fine Arts department and possibly your only friend left in the whole wide world is there and she's desperate to find out how you did at the High School.
>Not surprising, she's the one who pushed you in to it...
>She wants to catch up and she's, more than likely, eating the restaurant clean. One of those types who can eat everything and not gain weight.
>‘She metabolises like a bloody jet engine...’
>You reach the centre of the town and drive along the narrow streets that it make up. Passing the central library, the nearby bike racks and that coffee shop that sells those delicious muffins, you park up on the street. 
>Even though the rain has held off, the wind's still blowing strong.  You slip your coat on and set to the restaurant nearby. 
>‘That bloody scarf has gone walkabouts. Maybe it's back at home...’
>Anyway, walking along the main road, seeing all the people, the local enterprises and major chain shops, you feel that sense of familiarity. You always felt at home here. Town and country living; in the morning, you could buy your groceries and in the afternoon, you could be doing a three-mile ramble through the woods .
>You never really liked big cities; even living and studying in Oxbridge felt strange to you. But as your old father would say, "Beggars can't be choosers sometimes, lad."

>You reach the restaurant. Opening the door and letting some of the patrons leave, you step into the warmth.
>It isn't that busy this afternoon; not surprising really considering that the town is almost half-empty because of the winter break.
>It's busy enough though and you still easily spot Taddy. The instant she saw you, she started bouncing up and down in her seat.
>Whether meeting the Dean or an evening out, she always dresses the same; frilly blouses and jeans in colours that compliant her pale red skin and orange hair in a messy bun.
>Squinting through her thick-framed glasses, she eyes you up as you walk over to her table and sit in one of the empty seats.
>The other one has a thick fabric coat and handbag over the back.
>"Oh my dear Nonny! How are you!" She pulls you into a hug over the table. "I do hope you are well, slumming it in the big city."
"I am fine thanks, Taddy. Canterlot ain't that big, no bigger than Oxbridge anyway."
>"But it isn't Coltram though, Nonny. This is a place where everyone knows your name."
>You smile again. Taddy is one of an elite few who can get away with calling you your first name. It was embarrassing when you were studying at Baillie, people there genuinely thought you had one name.
>"Please, Nonny, I must know! How did it go? Please, tell me you were successful! Please!"
>Good grief, her enthusiasm is through the roof. You simply smile at her.
"It went fine. Smooth sailing, apart from threatening to punch the school superintendent and staining the office rug with coffee..."
>"He must have deserved it, though. Was he a rude wanker?
>That last part was spoken in a comical accent; just to annoy you.
"Yes. Yes he was 'a rude wanker'. Anyway, I'll be informed if I was successful but I'm not holding my breath..."
>"Nonny, please, I bet you were successful, even despite that. Hang on..." Some cogs started to spin in her head, "why did you threaten the superintendent in the first place?"

>The cogs finally click into postion, "It was Gail wasn't it? Your wife?"
"The comments he made about Gail and I just made me angry so I lashed out."
>"Oh Nonny..." She pouts, "I thought you were over this, especially since you dealt with that reporter from the Manehatten Challenger well enough. I didn't know you could be so childish."
"I wasn't being childish, Taddy. And besides, he started it. When someone slanders your good name, of course you'll defend it!"
>She just chuckles and grins like the Cheshire cat, "Good job I don't have a reputation to defend; people think I'm just an arrogant hippie."
"And we wouldn't have you any other way, Taddy."
>"If I wasn't gay, I'd screw you right now..."
>You snort loudly to hold back laughing out loud.
>A waiter wanders over and you order a soft drink and ... 
"What are you drinking, Taddy?"
>"Another apple juice and the house rum and coke, please. And put his drink on my tab."
"Two drinks? Who's joining us?"
>"Or rather, who has joined us, Nonny. My new lecturer for Digital Photography. A Miss Bright Flash."
>As soon as her name was spoken. She appeared from the toilets, wiping her hands on herself.
>"Don't use the hand driers, it's like being coughed on. Oh, is this the guy you were talking about, Taddy?"
>"Indeed! Prof, meet Bright Flash. Brighty, please meet Professor Endeavour."
>"Charmed to meet you, Prof." She holds her hand out for a shake but you took it lightly and gave a gentle kiss.
"Pleasure's all mine, Miss Flash."
>She blushes madly; the red contrasting her cooper skin.
>"Please, call me Bright. And surely, you have a first name, only Taddy never said."
"Call me Endeavour, please."

>You grin but she just raises an eyebrow.
>‘She must think I'm completely off my rocker. Quick, change routine.’
"The new photography lecturer? What happened to old Lens Flare? His liver finally explode like hand grenade?"
>"It was a heart attack, Prof" Taddy answered, "the poor man locked himself anyway in his office on a Friday and wasn't found until the Monday."
>"Yes, an unfortunate way to go." Bright chimed in, "especially considering no-one missed him over that weekend."
"What is with death recently? My possible predecessor at Royal Canterlot High School also died rather than retired."
>This fact made Bright's ears prick up
>"This wasn't Mrs. Hardscribble by any chance?"
"Yeah, I think it is. I'm sure I met her at some teaching conferences. Short, white hair, thin-wire glasses?"
>"Yeah, that's her. Although, when I was there she had blue hair. I heard it through the grapevine she died a couple of weeks ago. Just tragic..."

-- Meanwhile, in Canterlot --

>‘Just tragic. Freakin' tragic.’
>You are Celestia and you're miserable.
>Stuffing your hands into your blazer pockets and starting swinging in your executive chair, you think about the other applicants.
>‘I'm an old fool, why should I ask such questions? And why do I get such dumb answers?’
"So, Miss Peebee, why did you choose Royal Canterlot?"
>"Well, Principal Celestia, I believe I can help improve the aura that surrounds here.
"The ... aura?"
>"Why, yes! My research suggests that the school is buried under a sickening aura; depressing the students..."
>‘She was a freaking hippie and the another one was as dumb as a box of rocks.’
>Everything they said, you had to take with a hefty grain of it...
>What would Endeavour say? "A grain of salt for the taste of bullshit and a pinch of snuff for the smell of it."
>You inwardly smile at the thought as you grab your own coat and spot a maroon scarf hanging on the rack. It isn't yours or Discord's.
>You read the label. Burridges.
>That expensive department store on The Broad? No-one here today could afford to shop there...
>Even your own salary couldn't cover much. Maybe the odd blouse or overcoat...
>Overcoat...
>Everyone here today had one on, obviously, it's the weather, but you'd swear Eddie's was the most expensive.
>‘Does he shop at Burridges? Can he afford to?’
>What kind of salary do rural college professors get?
>You knew he had a rich wife but...
>‘Never mind. Just grab the scarf and put it in your car.’
>Stuffing it into your coat pocket and grabbing your bags, you lock up your office and the outer one and head out to your car.
>Walking through the empty hallways, you retreat into your head.
>What would Luna say?
>She's been picking up after Hardscribble; teaching her lessons and being in charge of the department. If she knew Endeavour was back...
>‘She wouldn't mind... much... especially if she knew the other applicants.’
>Stepping outside, you see that the rain's held off. And those hatchback cars have gone...
>‘Was it the girls? Can they all drive? Doesn't Pinkie drive a van?’
>Oh who cares? The cars have gone.
>Climbing into your own and starting it up, you pull out of the lot and drive up the main road, through the city centre. You know where you're heading. Old Town.
>Canterlot's Old Town was once the hub for the old industries. The ancient mills and factories dotted along the city's Southside Canal with the worker's homes on both banks. 
>However, the several economic declines of the last century hit the heavy industries hard and fast and the factories soon closed and fell derelict.
>But since the City Council launched the regeneration project some years ago, most of the old factories and terraced townhouses were either demolished or refurbished into modern apartments and homes so the area has become a trendy place to live.
>Even the Canal itself is an up-and-coming part of the city; there are houseboats and piers along its length.
>Neither yourself nor Lulu had sea legs but she still loved being around here. Her house is one of the redeveloped townhouses facing the Canal. The street imaginatively named North Bankside.
>You easily spot her; unloading her sporty coupe of groceries. You park up nearby and start walking over. You take your coat off the back seat, it might start raining again.
> Seeing her taking some more bags out, you call out to her.

>"LULU! Do you want some help?"
>She looks up from the trunk and says "I'm fine, thank you, Sister. Just one more bag. Get inside though, it's freezing out here."
> You walk through her open door and into the hallway. These houses are somewhat narrow so it had a narrow hallway leading downstairs with a narrow staircase leading upstairs.
>The door to the front room was left open; the walls maybe painted a basic white with pictures placed with sparse, modern-ish furnishings but you always loved her feature wall you see as you walk in.
>Painted a royal purple with star constellations. Cygnus, Canis Major, Leo, Scorpius. And Gemini...
>You never noticed Luna closing up and entering the room.
>"Sit yourself down, Sister. Do you want something to drink?"
>You spin around and Luna sees your troubled face.
>"Good Lords Above, Celly, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You could say that. He's back, you know. I'm surprised, I never expected for him to apply..."
>"Stop playing the pronoun game, Celly. Who is it? Who else did you interview today? I thought it was just two..."
"Anonymous Endeavour. He's a professor, now."
>Her face changed to that stoic one, "was, you mean. Why did apply to the school?"
"Says to me he wanted a change."
>Luna snorts sceptically at that, "you mean his fancy college wanted him out because what his wife did. I read the newspapers at the time..."
"Still, we shouldn't judge him for that."
>"I'm not judging Anonymous, I'm judging his wife. It isn't everyday your significant other goes mad and...
"Alright! I know what happened as well! I also read newspapers!"

>As you finish exclaiming, Luna still looks at you sceptically but you just start giggling at her.
>"What? What's so funny? she asks as she cocks her head to a side.
"I am the prettiest unicorn"?
>She looks down to her T-shirt; a simple black one with a colourful cartoon unicorn on it, proclaiming 'I am the prettiest unicorn'.
>She smiles as well, "I got in the sales at Binco. Not everyone can afford to buy at Burridges, you know. Like yourself."
>She points at your own outfit; the tan blazer, white blouse and magenta slacks. 
" I bought my outfit at Didier Sachs. Besides, I'm just wondering what Twilight Sparkle would say to that T-shirt..."
>Lulu laughs loudly and walks off into the kitchen.
>"What did you say to wanted to drink?"
 "Nothing, I'm good thanks."
>"Tough."
>With two hisses of opening cans of cola, she was back, she passed one can to you and took a healthy swig on hers.
>"So, tell me, who is Dizzy recommending to the school board? But I can guess. I did read those two resumes before we finished for the winter. A hippie historian and a man who could bore for this country...
"And I've interviewed him. He's as useful as a glass buttock..."
>"So it'll be Mr Endeavour; history teacher to the farmers. Marvellous. Look, Celly, you know my problems with him. I always thought he was a snooty, arrogant sort. Like the rest of his ilk...
>You tip your eyebrows and wrinkle your nose at Luna's statement. You never thought...
"Never would have guessed you thought like that, Lulu..."
>"What?" Luna said confused, "Oh! Oh no, not like that. I don't care if he's from overseas, what I do care is that he's one of those 'good ol' boys'. Everything handed to him on a silver platter because of his daddy. And I bet he's a member of some funny handshake guild..."
>She takes another swig of her drink but you just start giggling again.
"You sound bitter, Lulu. Is this still because of what happened all those years ago?"
>"I'm not bitter, Celly" She said bitterly, "but you very well know what happened all those years ago..." 
"Yes, well, let's try and be professional about things, Luna, please. He'll be our colleague soon and, in all fairness, I'll bet he doesn't even remember what happened."
>"Forgive me, Principal, if I take a heavy pinch of it with that." the Vice-Principal told her superior.

-- Meanwhile, in Coltram --

"...so that's when she's says 'I'll dance on your grave' so he quips back, saying 'Good job I'm being buried at sea then!"
>Both Taddy and Bright chuckle at the antidote as they finish off another round of drinks.
"Look, our drinks are empty so I'll get to the bar and sort some more out." You step from the table leave for the bar.
>"I'm sorry Brighty but I'll go and help him." Taddy says and excuses herself from the table.
>She meets you at the bar counter as one of the staff sorts the order out.
"You really like her, don't you?"
>"I do, Nonny." She said softly, "since when am I the love-struck idiot?"
"Does she bat for the same team or...?" 
>You ask innocently and she quietly thinks for a change
>"I don't know. Look, Nonny, I honestly don't know but I want to find out. Do you think she is? It's been awhile since I've done this, you know?"
>You look over Taddy's shoulder and see Brighty touching her face up, helping to extenuate her mint-green face.
"My own gaydar is on the blink since forever, Taddy. I could have never of guess you are, let alone Miss Flash. But, all you gotta do is ask. Remember what you said to me at this job interview? 'If you stare into void for long enough, you'll wanna jump into it.' I did and look where I am now."

>Taddy smiles at you as the drinks get served, "Thanks, Endeavour. Would you kindly makes this your last soft drink then?"
"For you, Miss Caster, anything. I ought to head back anyway before it gets too dark."
>"Thank you, I owe you one." Taddy says, rubbing your arm.
"Just let me know what happens next. Whatever happens." You say, pulling your phone out  and pretend answer some texts as she saunters back with the drinks.
>You slip it back into your pocket and you walk to the table and grab your drink off it and quickly down it in one.
>You look at your watch;  3:38pm
>"Sorry, ladies but I must leave at once. I got to see Fallow Field, he somehow knew I was up here and wants to meet."
>Taddy stood up and hugged you, "Well, Nonny, I'm sorry to see the back of you. Thanks for letting me know about today and please, we must meet up again when classes start, give me all the goss on the teachers."
>You laugh
"Of course, Taddy. And goodbye, Brighty, let's hope our paths cross again.
>"Likewise, Prof. Likewise." She lifts her drink to you.
>Grabbing your coat, you walk out and head back to your car and think about this evening.
>For the first time in months, you feel good. Today was a good day. The interview went alright, you met an old friend, caught up with another and, hopefully, made a new one.
>Traffic shouldn't be that bad going, should it?

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Chapter III: An Advancement of Learning, 
Part One: Before

>‘Who am I again...’
>You're tossing and turning in bed.
>You're in that half-awake, half-asleep state of mind. 
>You roll onto your side, facing the window...
>An unnatural light coming though the window and she's stood in front of it, her back to you.
>A simple golden blanket covering her legs but it leaves her voluptuous bottom out for all to see...
>Her beautiful teal skin, accentuated by the light. Her luscious blonde hair, blowing in a supernatural breeze...
>Her head turns...
>You blink heavily a few times and sharply sit up...
>The apparition has gone, all you see is a set of closed blinds in a dark room.
>You're Anonymous Endeavour and you sigh heavily and rub your eyes. It's isn't the first time you've awoken to that visage.
>Sitting in bed and feeling sorry for yourself for what seems like hours, it's only now you realise that you have the beginnings of an erection...
>Lying back down, you glance at the bed-side clock : 2:04am
>That's the problem with a bed early; you slept enough hours and it's still pitch black outside...
>‘Get outta bed and walk this bloody thing off. Maybe use the bog...’
>You step out and walk to the window. Opening the blinds and see out into the world and some lovely landscape...
>You wish...
>Living on the sixth floor of Gatwick Tower, the new 10 storey "upmarket apartment building", in the Old Town doesn't offer stunning vistas. It may be an alright part of town  but you still don't wanna walk its streets in the middle of the night...
>A pitch-black cloudy night. Only light sources are the street lighting and traffic lights. It's on red and a speeding car drives through it.
>Closing your blinds and scratching yourself, you wander to the bathroom. Your mind starts to wander.

>You start at the High School tomorrow, or rather today, come to think about it.
>So soon after the New Year. Unusual...
>Stranger still is that there's no in-service or training day or whatever the school calls it. Maybe that's why there's a staff meeting, before school starts, at half 7.
>Entering the bathroom and aiming it straight into the bowl, you think of the faculty.
>Obviously, Celestia is there but what of her sister, Luna? You know she teaches but it's unlikely she'll be there. Stranger things have happened. Where one goes, the other follows...
>As your old father said about the sisters, "in the mistress' footsteps, she trod. But which one of 'em is the very sod?"
>‘Just prepare yourself, my good man. Oh, for the love to... no matter how many times you shake it, some of it always remains in...’
>Grabbing some bog paper, you wipe it to soak of it out and flush the paper away.
>You stagger back to bed and fall into it. And into your thoughts
>Does she still remember?
>Of course she would, what happened to her was bloody-well traumatising. A frat-boy prank that went horribly wrong. Throwing all that red paint at Eastvale's Fall Formal...
>‘Come on, I don't wanna be  alone with my thoughts, I want to sleep...’
>You open your eyes; 2:19am
>‘...fuck...’

>Sleep came mercifully quick but when your alarm rang for quarter-to six, you weren't exactly jumping out of bed...
"Ugghhh..."
>You groan as you switch on a bed-side lamp and get blinded by its intensity. It's still dark, it won't get bright until at least half 7...
>You roll out of it and head for the kitchen. Switching on the stereo in the lounge part of the apartment,  and already that inane breakfast show is on. You glance at the kitchen clock; 6:04am.
>‘Get outta bed a bit quicker, next time...’
>Sorting out a morning cup of tea, you back over to the hi-fi stereo and turn on its CD playing option before you throw it over the balcony.
>Gail singing arias from Madama Butterfly... 
>‘Oh, forgot this was in...’
>You hesitate over the on/off button but you leave it on but you touch the volume knob, not to disturb your neighbours.
>Sipping the milky tea, you wander back to the bathroom and use the toilet, disrobe and you shower.
>After towelling off, you walk back to your bedroom and wonder what you wear.
>First impressions are important but you can't too formal at a high school. Never wear anything that you'll be disappointed if it gets ruined...
>Simple black cotton trousers, a light green shirt and that dark green cotton blazer. You pull the tie out from the inner pocket.

>‘Hmm... the black one you wore to Great Aunt Lottie's funeral... it'll be fine.’
>Finally dressed, you head back to the hi-fi and skip back to the first aria... Un Bel Di...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN9Dipgqdtw
>Back into the kitchen, you make some wholemeal toast. Glancing at the clock; 6:41am
>With the toast burnt, buttered and ate, you head back to the hi-fi to turn it off but Gail's beautiful aria climaxes and painful memories flood back in one fell swoop...
"I knew it was a mistake..."
>You close your eyes and sweep a little at the thoughts of what was and what could have been...
>...and of what she did...
>As it finishes, you switch it off. You revel in the sudden silence...
>‘My little songbird... why...’
>Breathing in and out a few times and grabbing a nearby tissue to dab your eyes, you walk to the rack and pick up the tan Macintosh coat. 
>You never did find that scarf. It was a gift from Gail...
>Grabbing both your apartment and car keys, you pause at the door and try to shake the memories out again.
>You head down to the car park, luckily, what you need for the day is already in the boot. The lift dings and opens on the ground floor; the apartment building's car park.
>"Elevator" and "first floor" you mean. Bloody Yanks and their different lexicography...
>Despite, ironically, you've lived here longer than over there...
>Wandering over to your reserved spot and you climb into your old car; a red Rover 3500
>You found her rotting in some scrap yard outside of Fillidelphia some years back. You lovingly restored her back to life. The ol' girl reminds you of yourself sometimes; a stranger in a strange land...
>Keeping her running is slowly becoming a chore but you want to make sure she goes to a good home and besides, modern cars all look the same, like bloody electric shavers...
>Pulling out onto the streets, it's still pretty dark. Glancing at the dashboard clock, 6:58am
>You found a quick route to the school that took 15 minutes from your building, better than you took originally. Considering, the time of day, it'll be quicker still...

>Twelve minutes later, you arrive at the High School and you drive into the parking lot behind the main building. Only a few spaces so you park between a blue coupe and a grey sedan.
>Stepping out and opening the boot, you grab the messenger bag but leaving the black briefcase and look at the school. Even the back of the building looked beautiful with the dawn light trying to break through the twilight.
>There are some students on the football field and running tracks. Presumably loitering about before classes start.
>‘Early birds. Hang on, is that hair natural?’
>One of the runners on the track has rainbow-coloured hair.
>Even the girls at the University were never that outrageous. Even when she was young, Celestia's hair was never that wild...
>Shaking your head, you walk to the side entrance and you're surprised to see Celly stood there.
>"Endeavour, it's good to see you again." She offers her hand for a shake.
"Likewise, Principal."
>You gently shake her hand.
"What kind of students are you teaching here? Even during our teenaged years, our hair was never that outlandish."
>"It was the spirit of the age after all. The 80's; the Age of Excess. But forgive me, which student are we talking about?"
>The two of you step into the building and you follow Celly... Celestia. Let's be professional...
"On the running tracks, I spotted a student with rainbow hair. Can't miss her."
>Celestia give you a light chuckle, "That's Rainbow Dash. One of our best athletes but an unfortunate average, academically speaking... "
"Rainbow Dash, it suits her..."
>She again laughs, "Her friends will set her right. Okay, the staff meeting will be held in the library on the top floor. Most of the faculty are up there already. Some of them aren't here unfortunately, mainly because of the weather upstate and overseas. It's a miracle we've escaped most of it.

"Touch wood, of course."
>You say as the pair of you start walking up the main stairs, passing some more students, giving you fishy looks in the process.
>‘You're just new here, don't worry.’
>"I'll tell you something now, Endeavour, before you get a shock. Luna is here..." Celestia says without looking back.
>‘Bugger, I'll be her boss or something, ain't I?’
>"... and she's the Vice Principal here."
>‘Bollocks, she's my boss...’
"Ugh..."
>She stops on the stairs, turns and looks down at you sternly.
>"Look, this bad blood between the pair of you...
"It's more than bad blood, Celestia, it's a fucking feud..."
>"Firstly, curb your language. Secondly, I don't care. What I'm saying is keep it out of the school. You're both professionals so be civil."
>She turns back around starts walking to the top floor
"I'll be civil but I refuse to be warm."
>Reaching the top floor in silence, you see two corridors leading left and right and a set of glass doors in front, giving you a commanding view of the massive school library, sitting under the grand dome. Your jaw hits the floor.
>‘Bloody hell. Never seen owt like it...’
>The Principal walks to the doors and confidently opens them and says loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen, please. It maybe 22 minutes past but I believe this meeting has started so let's begin."
>You sheepishly stand to her right.
>"Firstly, I hope you will warmly welcome our new Head of the History and Social Sciences department and our new teacher, Mr. Anonymous Endeavour." She starts to clap and rest of the faculty does as well.
>A couple don't, including one blue-skinned lady in the front. She just raises a quizzical eyebrow
>"A few words, Mr. Endeavour?"

"Thank you, Principal Celestia. I am a man of few words so I'll keep this short..."
>"You'll be useless as a teacher then!" A male voice shouts from the middle, followed by a ripple of laughter.
>‘Fuck you.’
"Thank you for that comment but I can waffle on if necessary, keeping you all in this drafty cold library. We can burn some of the books if needs be."
>You say as you notice most of the teachers are still wearing their overcoats. Some even chuckle.
"I know I'll be filling some important shoes here and I know Mrs. Hardscribble was a dedicated teacher but I assure you I am no different. But my teaching style will be different, I believe I am more relaxed and laid-back and I think it's an asset so the students will see me as one of their own, a style that I know works. But if you have any issues or problems, my door is always open. Thank you. Principal?"
>She smiles warmly, "Thank you Mr Endeavour." She turns back to her audience, "second on the agenda concerns missing teachers and students. The weather upstate is still bad with the snow and everything. We have the substitute teachers replacing Mr Bucks from the English department, Miss Trott from the Science department, Ms Melody from Performing Arts and Coach...
>Your eyes suddenly widen and your skin goes cold under your clothes.
>That name, it's been bloody years...
>Is it Octavia? A past conquest but a lost lover... 
>She's a world-class cellist now. Even if she retired, why would she be teaching music in some middle-rank school, not a prestigious music college?
>‘Middle-rank, my arse. Royal Canterlot is one of the best public schools in the State, if you judge by its academic performances.’
>But your point still stands, why here?
>Assuming it is her, anyway. It could be her little sister, Fabia. But you swear blindly she's not a musician but a lawyer of some sort. Maybe another relation?
>‘Don't worry about it right now, cross that bridge when you get to it...’

>With the meeting over, most the teachers have left. So has the Vice Principal so you can mill about the library uninterrupted.
>And un-assaulted...
>Looking up through the glass dome, you see morning is still trying to break through the clouds
>You manage to find the history section and even the modern history sub-section with ease.
>You wonder if...
>Scanning through the titles written on the spines, you actually find it.
> "Helped Into Power : The Rise of European Fascism in the 20th Century" By A. J. Endeavour
>It was one long boring sabbatical going through historical archives in dusty European universities and museums finding out that, shock! fascism is bad, guys!
>"Stroking your ego?"
>You turn to the source of the voice and a friendly magenta face with shoulder-length purple hair smiles at you
"Oh hullo. Well, you know what they say about us university types."
>"Like I said, stroking your own ego. Name's Cheerilee." She holds her hand out
>You warmly shake it.
"Endeavour. What's your speciality here then, Miss Cheerilee?"
>"You're looking at it. I am the librarian here and if necessary I teach. Now, you being a history buff, I think you can help me with something."

"Does it involve you reorganising the stock?"
>She gives you a light chuckle, "It does need cataloguing again but that's not the point. Couple of the students wanted some help with their world history lessons and I'm wondering if can have some expert advice or reading material?"
"Naturally. What exactly are we talking about? The English Civil War? The Prench Revolution? The Australian Emu War?"
>She walks passed you, drawing you deeper into the history and geography sections . "One was concerned about other countries' involvement in the Vietnam War while the other was about British Empire atrocities."
>Oh boy...
"The book series 'Brief History of Colonial Empires' has a book on the British and, I believe it has a chapter on its crimes and another book is about Prance's empire and it has a chapter about Indochina or South East Asia at the time. There's also an interesting travel guide by Globe Trotter. It's not just about which Vietmarese hotel offers the best foot massages. It's a guidebook about the War's battlegrounds. Not just in Vietmare but in neighbouring Cambodia and Laos
>"What's it called?" She asks, genuinely interested.
"Ermm... I think 'The South East Conflict'"
>"I'll have to check the system but I don't think we have either..."
"And buying new books is like drawing blood out of a stone?"
>Again, she lightly chuckles. It's a soothing soft one.
>"You're not wrong. What's that old expression? 'Make do and mend?'"
"What can you do? Forgery?"
>Now she laughs.
>"Maybe."
>"Miss Cheerilee! Where are you?"
>Celestia must be looking for the pair of you.
>"I'm over here, Principal. History section. With our new teacher in tow."
>She rounds the bookshelf to greet the pair of you, with a student. Or an incredibly young teacher. It's difficult to tell these days...
>Wearing a conservative outfit of a knee-length skirt, a sweater vest, a white shirt and a bow-tie...
>‘A bow-tie? What the fuck?... Do you want bullying? Because this is how you get bullied.’
>The purple-skin girl looks like a deer caught in the headlights, with her eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses darting between the three of you.
>Celestia spoke sternly to Cheerilee, "next time, make sure the library is empty of students before we conduct confidential faculty meetings."
>"Then, Principal, I suggest you hold the next one in the teacher's lounge. Even though I checked the library beforehand, you can never be too sure, it is a big room after all. I doubt the young Sparkle here is the only one..." Cheerilee said matter-of-factly.
>Celestia's face didn't move and yet, she lets out a low grumble
>"Right. Mr Endeavour and Twilight, will the pair of you follow me to my office?"
>The glum looking student just nodded while you cheerfully said
"Righto, Principal. Lead the way."
>"Toodle pip, Mr Endeavour. Thanks for your help." Miss Cheerilee says as she pushes her book cart.

>Celestia leads the two of you out of the library and down the stairs and the meek girl tries to talk to you but her words get caught in her throat.
>"So, you're... our new... errm... history teacher?..."
"Yes, I am, Ms Sparkle, I presume?"
>She nods. "Yes... I prefer... umm... Twilight, thank you, sir"
>‘Good grief, she shier than me when I was at high school. It's the bow-tie, matey, it's restricting the blood-flow to her head.’
"Are you new here or?"
>"Kinda yeah... I transferred from... umm Crystal Prep not so long back because I live closer...
>‘Crystal Prep? That snooty school? Explains the bow-tie. STOP BANGING ON ABOUT THE BOW-TIE!’
"Seems like a step down, if you don't mind me asking."
>Celestia glances back at you, frowning
>"I like it here, obviously!" She nearly exclaims
>"We're here. Twilight, wait in the outer office with Miss Inkwell. Mr Endeavour, come into my office."
>Leaving the poor girl with the mute secretary, you two of you enter her office and she closes the door.
>"Crystal Prep is better. Huh..." Celly says sarcastically
"Just making conservation, boss."
>"You wouldn't be saying that if you witnessed what 'underhanded' tactics they tried at the Friendship Games, to put it lightly..."
>She gives you a slight smile and quickly changes the subject before you get the chance to ask the obvious.
>"Consider yourself blessed, Anon. Twilight Sparkle rarely starts conversations with total strangers, never mind her teachers. It's good to see her friends are trying get her out of shell though..."
>‘Christ, her friends or her support group?’
>You just smile and nod...

"Of course, Principal. Now, what are we doing here?"
>"Apart from wasting Twilight's time? Okay, I need to explain this morning schedule for you...
"Err, hang back. Waste Twilight's time?"
>She grins devilishly.
>"Naturally, she hasn't done anything significantly wrong. In all fairness, Cheerilee should be punished, she didn't do her job properly."
>You throw her a quizzical look
"But the student was trespassing in an area that was out of bounds. Surely, it deserves a detention?
>"I don't think so, Anon. What you do in my shoes?" She asked
[Awkward question! Quick, deflect!]
"Universities are different to high schools. Discipline is handled differently."
>"You forget I'm also college-educated, Anonymous. I can read YOU like a book too. You're just telling me you would handle the situation like I am."
>When she uses your first name, she means business. Just back down, don't risk an argument.
"Fine, alright. Now, what's this about my morning schedule?"
>She looks like the cat that got the cream now.
>"Yes, you don't have to worry about your lessons this morning, your first lesson will be this afternoon. I need you to get use to your other job; leading the department."
"I can guess. Sorting out staff schedules, organising mock exams, approve or dismiss relevant memos. A lot of bureaucratic crap, right? 
>"Exactly."
[What fun...]
"Who's handling my lessons then?"
>"Vice-Principal Luna and another history teacher, Mr. Salt Combe. You'll like him; he's another limey... another Englishman, I mean."
>She chuckles nervously as she runs her hand through her hair
"Cor blimey, guv'nor, there'd be a barney on you 'ands if you say that. Is there anything else to discuss, Miss?"
>"Apart from Twilight, nothing much. I'll deal with her personally if you wanna..."
>Gears shift in her head. Again, that devilish smile.
>"No, stay. Maybe we'll put the fear of God in her..."
"Good idea..."
>She leans over to switch on the intercom, "Miss Inkwell, please send in Ms Sparkle."
>She sits back into the chair and grins again, "Stand behind and just follow my lead, Endeavour."
[It'll like watching a poacher tickling a trout. She'll be buttered and fried with a sprig of paisley in her gills.]

>The young lass shuffles in like a convict in chains and sits down, not even looking at either of you.
>You put on your best stoic face while Celestia writes some notes on some random paper.
>"Right, Twilight." She begins without looking up, "you know why you're here?"
>She just nods, looking even more gloomy.
>"You were trespassing in an area that we declared out -of-bounds..."
"And eavesdropping on a confidential meeting."
>You add as Celestia look up at you then to Twilight.
>"I wasn't! I swear!...
>Celestia holds her hand up to silence her, "however, Twilight, before you dig yourself in too deep, I am thinking about over looking this infraction. The weather is awful, you wanted to be away from it and the library wasn't properly cordoned off...
>She looks hopeful. Will Celestia stomp on it?
>"But I was told by Miss Cheerilee that she needs help reorganising and cataloguing certain sections of the library before the winter break so I thank you for volunteering." Principal Celestia grinned
>"But I didn't... oh... I understand, Principal." She responded, apparently confused. You can't quite read her; it's like she's both relieved and disappointed but still relieved.
>"I'll discuss the situation with Cheerilee today but I want you, and only you might I add, back here at the end of the day. You may leave now, Twilight."
>"Thank you, Principal. Mr Endeavour." Twilight barely whispered as she crept out.
>As the door closed, you went back to the front of the desk.
"That's just evil, Celly."
>"She likes her books, Anon."
>You scoffed at her statement
"Not any more..."
>Celly snorts in that cute way of hers and stands from her seat
>"Come on, I'll show you to your new office, Mr. Endeavour."
"Yes, Principal.”

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Part Two: During

>DA-DUNK-THUMP
>DA-DUNK-THUMP
>You're annoyed. Very annoyed. This fucking job...
>It's only quarter-to twelve as well.
> DA-DUNK-THUMP
>Your stress relief; a pink high-bounce ball aimed at the floor, bounces up to a filing cabinet and it comes back, catching it with a soft thump.
> DA-DUNK-THUMP
>‘Fuck this computer.’
>You're Anonymous Endeavour and you're no technological luddite and neither was Hardscribble but the way she filed and categorised documents...
>‘Bloody hell, cracking Enigma was a cake walk compared to this...’
>A nest of folders to hide one file and about thirty-odd files in one. Some password-locked, some aren't.
>You've decoded some folders; a couple of staff schedules in one and some World History presentations in another...
>DA-DUNK-THUMP
>DA-DUNK-THUMP
>You stop. You get out of the chair and stretch your legs. Your office is quite spacious actually; two windows facing the football pitch, a sizeable desk with a comfy office chair with your back to the windows. A small sofa and a coffee table in front of the desk. Above that are more windows with views of the corridor. One wall lined with filing cabinets and the other wall had an attractive watercolour picture of the school and another one of the city from a vantage point.
> In one of the cabinet draws and buried under old exam papers, is a half-empty bottle of Strathrowan Scotch and another full one with four glass tumblers.
>You took a slight measure of it earlier and bloody hell, it was gorgeous. Strathrowan is really expensive, how could Hardscribble afford it? More to the point, who are the other three drinkers?
>Ignoring the drink...
>‘For the moment...’
>You stand by the window facing the outside world. It's on the school's second so it gives a commanding view of the football pitch.
>‘Nah, soccer, American football is something different. It has goalposts; the posts would be like not unlike rugby posts if it was football.’

>Shaking the English lesson from your head, you look out noting the students on it. Again, that rainbow-haired lass is on it and she's running rings around everyone.
>You have a bizarre thought; put you and her in a pool and see who wins.
>You maybe a relatively short man but you have the physique of a swimmer; with the strength in your back and shoulders, in the neck and in the stubby formation of your hands and fingers.
>You swam competitively back in high school and in college. Your 200m backstroke record still stands at Baillie College, even after all these years...
>From your vantage point, it looks like she has a similar build...
>‘Stop eyeing up the students, matey. You'll get into trouble...’
>A knock on the door pulls you from the window and you sit down, pretending to be busy
"It's open, come in."
>It opens and a man walks in. He's a very thin man but tall enough to be gangling with it. He had a long sad face but a dog's big gentle brown eyes. His name is Mr Salt Combe and despite his dower appearance, he is a charming and intelligent man.
>"Mr Endeavour, I presume?"
>He offers his hand for a shake and you gently take it, worried a forceful shake could dislocate it.
"Mr Combe, a pleasure to meet you. I didn't see you at the meeting this meeting."
>And it's quite hard to miss him; his height, his bronze skin and curly grey hair make him stand out from the other multi-coloured and multi-sized faculty.
>"I was stood at the back. I wanted to be away from the usual territorial battles over the moral high grounds."
"Ah, that old thing. Let me guess, libellous statements and insulting comments about me or my past or something completely different?"
>"You're not wrong, Mr Endeavour. Your past is quite the fuel for speculation, if you don't mind me saying. Personally, I don't give a damn what happened in the countryside, but I know what I think.
"What do you think?"
>You ask with an eyebrow raised.    

>"You were a respected lecturer thrown out without his feet touching the ground as they thought the worst in you because your wife did the worst. 
>You contemplate his words for a silent second before he speaks again. 
>"Enough of that, come to the teacher's lounge. Merriment is afoot; someone's ruined the Vice Principal's mircowave casserole again..."
>You snort in laughter as you stand and walk with him.
"Say, there isn't an old guard here at the school? You know what I mean..."
>"Aye, I do. Mrs Hardscribble was a fully-paid up member before her departure. And there are three more; two from the English department. Mrs Harshwhinny and Mrs Worth and one of the math teachers, Mrs Pearl."
>He pronounces 'math' with some spite, as an Englishman should. We say 'maths'.
"I'm trying to place your accent, Mr Combe. It ain't Coltchester, is it?
>"You're quite right and I believe you're a fellow Northerner? Trottersfield?"
"The accent has softened over the years, but yeah. I do make annual pilgrimage back to the Dales every year or so."
>"As a true Yorkshireman should. But as an Lancastrian, should I be worried about my safety?"
"The War of the Roses was a long time ago. Now, I like some modern history, including gossip. What's been happening?"
>Salt just grins, "what makes you think I know?"
"Tell me more about this casserole."
>Your companion snorts, "someone believes that our esteemed Luna is stealing treats from the fridge and so, for payback, someone's ruining her ready meals."
"Surely you have some speculations on suspects?"
>The pair of you grin like the Cheshire Cat
>"Luna is well known for rubbing people up the wrong way. I'll wager my pension on the old guard. They're as petty as. And they like their sugary sweets. Here we are. The lounge."

>Opening the door and he sees you in first, the teacher's lounge is no real different from the University's senior common room. More of that scratchy burgundy carpet from the offices and walls painted neutral brown and beige colours. Two sets of sofas and separating coffee tables in the middle of the room, several tables and chairs in the kitchenette area by the door. A mircowave and a coffee machine sit on the counter and a small fridge is under it.
>A large wall mounted television and, oddly, a pool table in the back with the windows offering views of the car park.
>Most of the faces turn to you and back to whatever they doing. Reading books, doing newspaper crosswords, watching the television. The pool table was empty though.
>"Don't mind them. They won't bite. Just ignore them lot at the far table" Salt said, as he walked to the fridge in the kitchenette.
>"Or what? We'll bore you with science, Salty?" One of the men said at the far table.
>"Never you mind, Slawter, I was talking about you, not at you." Mr Combe quips.
>"Fair enough." Mr Slawter answers back. 

>"Some of the science department. Drs Slawter, Carver and Menti." Salt says as he opens his packed lunch and grabs the sandwich. "It's a Monday, so it'll be... a-ha! Luncheon meat! I knew it." He takes a healthy bite.
"Excuse me, I'll just get mine out."
>Ignoring the burning smell from the nearby mircowave, you grab your wrapped up sandwiches from the fridge and notice that the chocolate bar you bought from the vending machine has gone. 
"There are some light-fingered people around here."
>"They'd have the gold out of your teeth if you don't watch them." A female voice said.
>You turn around to see the source of the voice and see a yellow face with fiery hair in a ponytail leaning back in her chair.
>"I'd advise you to get a box for it. Or write your name on it." She smugly commented.
>"Thank you, Ms Spitfire, for your insight. Haven't you some students to berate?" Salt remarked.
>"Sorrin does that, not me, Salty. Don't you have students to patronise?" Spitfire asks back.
>"Always a pleasure talking to you."
>"As ever." Spitfire leans forwards, reading her newspaper. 
>"Gym teachers." Salt whispers, "a splendid bunch if you're on their good side..."
>"Exactly." Spitfire stated.
>"I'll be over there." He pointed to one of the sofas. "Granny! You old soak! I need your excellent recipes..." 
>He moves over where an old, white-haired, green-skinned lady cranes her head around while you hold back to make a hot cup of tea.
>Spying a nearby hot-water boiler over the sink, you find a half-empty box of tea bags in one cupboard and some generic white mugs in another.
"Are these mugs anyone's in particular?"
>Spitfire says without looking from the paper, "Take what you need but if you finish off the 2%, you're replacing it. Hey! Sorrin! You made it!"
>Looking in the fridge, you find the milk. And another pair of hands enters your field of view, grabbing another lunch box.
>"Hey, sorry buddy, didn't see you there." A man's voice said.
"It's alright, no harm, no foul."
>"You're that new history teacher. Anon Endeavour, yeah?"
"Endeavour, yes. You're one of the gym teachers, I presume?"
>Pointing to his tracksuit, he grins proudly.
>"I'm Sorrin, I teach the track and swim and other things, if necessary."
>He runs his hand through his sharp dark blue hair and grins a cocky smile.
>‘Youthful arrogance.’
"It's nice meeting you, Sorrin. If you want a challenge in the pool, you can find me here."
>You give him a wink as Sorrin eyes you up. "Actually, I think you're right there, Anon. I might do that."
>He moves off to sit with Spitfire as you sort out the mug of tea.
>Walking past them, you eye up the science teachers. They're playing some card game. With stacks of bits between them.
>‘Are they gambling? Is that even allowed?’
>"Four of a kind!" The lass says.
>"Damnit!"
>"Crap!"
>The other two defeated and push some of their pennies to her.
>"Sit ye down, Anonymous!" Salt Combe pronounced, patting a sofa cushion, "If you want to play something substantial  with them, come with me on Friday night to the science labs. Myself, Slawter and some others play some proper high-sakes games."
"I'll think about it, my good man. And who are you?"
>You point to the old lady, and she announced, "Ah'm Granny Smith! Nice to meet yah, young'un."
>Despite her elderly frame, she wraps your hand in an iron grip and firmly shakes it.
>"Nao, Ah have to leave ya, Salty, but do come to mah kitchen later; ah'll give ya tha' recipe."
>She gets up and moves off with a surprisingly quick pace.
>"Granny Smith." Salt grinned, "she's got a head like a room full of starlings. Doubt she even remembers her first name but if you want anything from beef burgers to a beef wellington preparing, she'll cook up a storm."
>Looking over your shoulder, you see Granny politely holding the door to two ladies. 
>"Ah-ha, they've arrived, old chap. Time to belt up." Salt comments. 

>One woman looked remarkably young, in her mid-thirties but heavily made-up with her small features diminished further by a frame of exaggeratedly bouffant sliver-blue hair.
>The other was squat but strongly-built. Lightly made-up to extenuate her orange skin but even extravagance of her blond hair could not disguise the fact that she has a lovely face.
>The blonde one of them sat near you, on the other set of sofas, while the other went to the kitchenette.
>"Mrs Harshwhinny, how lovely to see you. Did you enjoy the winter break?"
>"Yes, I did, because I was far away from you, Mr Combe." She grins
>"Very un-Christian that. Be aware of the Dynamic Duo today, Mr Endeavour. They've seemed to lost one of their number so they're flexing their wings to cover lost ground." Salt once again comments on as you quietly sip your tea. 
>"Enough of that talk, please, Salty. I'm here for food, not a fight." The other part of the Duo proclaimed. "I'm Oz Pearl, Mr Endeavour. That's Mrs Harshwhinny. Charmed to meet you."
>Again, you shake her warm hand.
"Enough of the handshaking please, I'm sure Granny given me carpal tunnel syndrome."
>She lightly snorts, "Hands like a hydraulic press."
>She moves off to sit with Harshwhinny. Unfortunately, Combe decides to open his mouth, disturbing the peace.
>"I am surprised, Winnie, you wish to sit with us here. I'd thought you'd be at that new restaurant not far from here."
>"More snide remarks about my person, Salty?" Harshwhinny complained.
>"No, I can see your new diet is working perfectly. The seafood diet, I presume?"
>"The what diet?" She asked, somewhat perplexed.
>"The see-food diet! You see food and you eat food!"
>Her face quickly contorted to mild rage, "Look, listen here, you lanky...
"Alright! Alright! Belt up, Salt. Mrs Harshwhinny, please, he didn't mean anything..."
>Instead of shouting at Salt Combe, she redirected that anger to you, "I know exactly what he means so he doesn't need the likes of you defending him!"

>Those science teachers turned to face the commotion.
"I'm sorry? What have I done to offend you?"
>Although, she appears to have calmed down, she stand up and points her finger at you.
>"This school doesn't need the likes of you, degrading it with your filth! I know exactly what you did."
"What did I do? I don't know..."
>Miss Pearl tries to get Harshwhinny to sit back down but it fails.
>"Cherry Bakewell."
>Your face drops as your own anger rises.
"I did nothing to her. Nothing."
>"She was a good student here, one of my favourites, and she went onto a proper college. And you left her high and dry and what your wife did to her was simply inexcusable."
"I didn't do anything to her. Yes, my wife got jealous but..."
>Again, she interrupts you, "Exactly, you did nothing. Did nothing to help her, did nothing to save her. The wages of sin, Mr Endeavour..."
>Now, you butted in.
"And who declared you judge and jury! There's a reason why I hate sanctimonious types! Full of hypocrisy!"
>Mrs Harshwhinny stands in a huff and storms off to the door and you decide to put your flat foot in it.
"You can dish it out but you can't take it!"
>As she opens the door, Salt puts his foot into his mouth, "What does your Christian doctrine say about turning the other cheek? About loving thine enemies?"
>"Don't you dare preach to me about my religion!"
>She yells and slams the door, shaking the dust off the light fixtures.
>"Thanks a lot, the pair of you. Now, she'll be pissed off for the rest of the day." Oz says as she stands and makes a charge for the door.
>As it closes, you're suddenly aware of the eyes upon you. You nervously sit down and pick your sandwich up off the floor.
"Oh hell, it's covered in fluff."
>Salt Combe just bursts out laughing, "You know," he says as he finishes, "I think we'll be the finest of friends."
>The door reopens and you stand to see who it is…

-- Meanwhile, in the Principal's Office --
>"This whole debacle with my mircowave casserole is simply intolerable, Celly!" Luna exclaims in your office.
>You run your hands over your face, hiding your exacerbated looks.
"I don't care, Luna. Your fights are your fights. You can't have your big sister wading in, solving everything for you."
>You're Celestia and you are pissed off. Luna dragging her problems in and expecting you to fix them. 
>"It's not that. The teachers aren't respecting my authority. I am their Vice Principal."
"But I am your Principal and I'm telling you to put your foot down."
>Luna snaps back, "I have tried that, you don't believe me or something?"
>You stand from your chair.
"Luna, can you stop acting so cowardly? Stop hiding behind me and start cracking your whip. You'll never be a good Principal if you stop being afraid." 
>"I'm not afraid, the situation is different. How would know it anyway; you never leave your ivory tower..."
"I'd be more willing to accept your criticism, Luna, if I didn't suspect you weren't acting out such naked self-interest!"
>The room falls silent. You stare daggers at your sister.
>‘Idea...’
>With a sigh of 'defeat', you sit back down.

"Despite your insubordinate approach, Vice Principal, I will help you out with this ... debacle as you put it. Maybe I should climb down my ivory tower every once in a while and visit the teacher's lounge. With you at my side, of course. See how discipline is dealt."
>You stand up and grab the suit jacket of the back of your chair and walk to door. Luna looks unsure but walks out with you nonetheless.
"Come on, Lulu, it's only ten-past. The room should still be occupied."
>The staff room is only short walk from the main offices and you can already hear an argument down the corridor.
>"What does your Christian doctrine say about turning the other cheek? About loving thine enemies?" 
>"Don't you dare preach to me about my religion!"
>‘Oh, what fresh hell is this?’
>Sounds like Harshwhinny and Combe are arguing again. Or is it?...
>‘No, definitely Combe . Anon isn't that stupid...’

>As the two of you walk closer, Harshwhinny slams the door closed and thunders past, not even paying attention to either of you.
>"Intolerable man... simply intolerable..." She muttered.
 >Miss Pearl opens the door and gives chase, "Oh, for the love to... Winnie! Wait up!"
>"Who worked them up into a frenzy?" Luna innocently asked.
"I can guess..."
>Opening the door and expecting to see chaos and carnage, but you find a sombre peace. Both Salty and Anon stand from one of the sofas. Some of the other teachers crane their heads around. Looks like the science teachers are playing poker again. Coaches Spitfire and Sorrin also look up from their papers.
>"Alright there, Principal? Care to join in the fun?" Spitfire sarcastically asks.
"Why do I feel like a lamb being lead to a kebab shop all of a sudden?"
>"Harshwhinny and that new teacher were clashing horns." Dr Slawter says.
>You just roll your eyes. You look over to Luna and she's just frozen solid with wild open eyes and a trembling bottom lip. You follow her gaze and see Endeavour staring at her.
>Again, you roll your eyes and snap your fingers to break Luna's line of sight.
"Right, right. Everyone, I am aware of the situation of missing food from the staff room...
>You can almost hear a collective sigh of relief.
"As well as pranks with microwaveable meals. All I'm saying is ... "
>You glance back to Luna and look her straight in the eyes.
"...  that it's stops."
>Luna looks startled, like she's just been rumbled.
>Turning back to the room, you lightly smile and clasp your hands, "Okay? That's all I'm asking. I have nothing against banter and horseplay but when it affects the well-being of my staff, then it becomes my problem."
>Turning to face your sister, you politely but quietly ask her something.
"Go find Harshwhinny and check if she's alright. Last thing I want is her to fly over my head and complains to Discord, okay?"
>She simply nods, turns on her heels and walks off. Without saying a word.
>‘Strange...’
>You casually walk to the fridge to get your food out. You may be the Principal, but you still need to have chilled food...
>A simple but well-made beef sandwich from that deli near where you live.
>You saunter past the tables, nodding to the gym coaches who nod back the greeting, and to the couch opposite where both Salty and Anon are sat. Putting your legs onto the coffee table separating the two sofas, you ask a simple a simple question.
"What was that all about then? I thought I heard raised voices..."
>You take a bite out of the sandwich while Anonymous looks nervous again.
>Salty coughs, "Well, Mrs Harshwhinny and myself decided to have a lively discussion about theology...
>"Yeah, then I got dragged in." Endeavour spoke up, "she insulted me and one of my old students. I tried to keep my cool but..." He took a nervous nibble from his sandwich.
"Harshwhinny is an excellent teacher but she has a short temper. I remember sitting in one of her lessons and she kept saying "no slacking" when she was handing out test papers. She said to me afterwards, 'I've got to be firm with them. If I don't walk all over them, they'll walk all over me.' "
>"Sound advice." Endeavour said.
>You finish off your sandwich and read your wristwatch; 12:21pm
"About time I'm heading back. And I'd advise you to do the same thing, Mr Endeavour. Your first class is soon, isn't it."
>"Yeah, you're right, Celestia. I'll see you later then. Look, Salt, about Friday, I'll think about it, alright?"
>Salt Combe just grins like a startled hamster with the food in his mouth, and he gives a thumbs up.
>You smile at him as he walks out the door.
>"You like him, don't you?" Salty says after he swallows his sandwich.
"I know you're ruining Luna's food so shut up or you're suspended." 
>"Yes, Principal."

///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\ ///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\
Part Three: After

"Forgive me, Twilight, if I say I don't believe you."
>"What is there to say, Shimmy? Haven't I explained to you enough times already?"
>You're Sunset Shimmer and you close your eyes and loudly sigh.
>Classes have finished for the day and you're going home. The others have gone their separate ways, you think anyway. Pinkie and Rainbow said they were staying behind to some extra-curricular stuff. Applejack, Rarity and Flutters said they all have work tonight. 
>Twilight still has to met with Principal Celestia about this morning's adventure so you decide to stay behind.
"I still think you're lying. The cafeteria was open, you could have gone there."
>"I didn't feel like it, I wanted to do a spot of reading." Twilight answers back.
"It was closed off, clearly sign-posted and we all received e-mails about the situation. I don't believe you, Twilight Sparkle."
>Twilight stops in her tracks, "Do I have to account for my every action to you, Sunset?"
"No, of course you don't. I'm just worried though."
>You say sympathetically, resting your hand on her shoulder.
" You don't have this kind of rebellious nature in you..."
>You drop your voice to a whisper.
"Is it Midnight?..."
>"What? No, it isn't! I swear to you!"
>Twilight gets that panicked look in her face. But she hangs her head in shame.
>"In all fairness, I'm surprised that the others bought my lie..."
"I doubt that very much, Twi..."
>She raises a smile and continues walking.
>"I just wanted to find out more about that new teacher, Mr. Endeavour."
>You're confused now.
"Why? He's just another boring academic, like the rest of them."
>"You really don't know, do you?"
"Should I know? More to the point, should I care?"
>Twilight giggles at your bluntness, "You're just like AJ sometimes, I like it."
>You arrive at the outer office door.
>‘I bet Miss Inkwell's there. She just silently judges you...’
>Twilight knocks on the door and a voice immediately answers it.
>"Come in, please."
>‘Frickin' called it.’

>Twilight walks in first and follow suit. The ever-vigilant Miss Inkwell looks up at the pair of you.
>"Can I help you two?" She asks politely.
>"I was told by Principal Celestia to meet her at the end of the day, Miss Inkwell."
>Her gaze moves to you, "And yourself?"
"I'm only here to escort the troublemaker, Miss Inkwell. I'll love you and leave you then, Twi."
>Inkwell uses the intercom as Twilight asks you a question.
>" Can you stick around for a bit? I don't think I'll be long. Find that history teacher, I bet you'll find him intriguing."
>You roll your eyes.
"Fine,  I guess..."
>"Ms Sparkle, you can see her now."
>You pull your friend into a hug and wish her good luck.
"You certainly need it."
>"Thanks, Shimmy"
>As Twilight walks off to her doom, you ask Miss Inkwell if she knows whether that new teacher is still here.
>"He ought to be, he has to see Celestia as well."
"Thanks, I'll pass the message on then."
>"Saves me from using the PA system then."
>You smile and walk out her office. If you remember correctly, he should have inherited Ol' Hardscribble's rooms so you set off for the history department.
>‘What has he suppose to have done? Especially to get Twilight's attention?’
>‘Most of the time she spends her time researching magical macguffins...’
>‘Is he a macguffin then? A lost soul from Equestria, maybe?’
>You scoff at your thoughts.
>‘No, the Princesses would have said something. Maybe I should tell them though?’
>Another snort.
>‘She'll laugh it out of court. 'Dear Twilight, my Twilight's got a new crush and it's some fat college professor.' Ah-ha! Room 42!’
>Room 42 in the history department is no different to any other classroom in the school; blue carpeting, teal and turquoise walls and a clean blackboard. Shame it's empty though...
>‘He would an office, wouldn't he? Hardscribble did...’

>You can hear music. Low murmurs of something ... electronic, something synthesised.
>‘Is Vinyl Scratch trying some new stuff? Something retro?’
>But why would she be doing it here? The music studio is in the other side of the school.
>As you continue walking, the music gets louder. Not loud to be a problem but loud enough to be heard in an empty corridor.
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrSShugEZM
>You're sure you recognise it. A club had an 80's night or maybe Mrs. Velvet has this on a vinyl record...
>You find the office with the door open. It's the source of the music, alright. On the door, written in a clear black font: "Mr. A. Endeavour. Head of History & Social Studies". You take a peak before knocking but you don't have to.
>Even though he had his head turned at an angle and bouncing a rubber ball, he still knew someone was at the door.
>"Come in. It's open.”
>‘Frickin' heck! How did he know? Could he be?... No, don't be silly.”
>The direct source of the music seems to be a small speaker on his desk with an iFruit phone on top.
>He spins around to face you and slightly smiles, curling that thick green copstache up one side, before pulling a puzzled look.
>"Oh, I thought you were someone else. Can I help you at all, Ms?"
"I'm Sunset Shimmer, Mr Endeavour. Come to think of it, you'll be teaching me American History tomorrow. Mrs Hardscribble did.
>You extend a hand towards him but declines.
>"I don't want to be rude but my wrist aches from all the shaking and writing. Thank you anyway though. Do you wish to sit down?"
>You take his offer and sit on the couch behind you. He turns the music down but not off...
>‘It’s quite a good tune actually...’
>He moves from the chair behind the desk to one of them in front of it.
>You eye him up, hoping he doesn't notice
>‘Quite a short man, a bit taller than me perhaps?’
>"Do you want me to turn this off?" He leans over to the speaker.
"No, no, leave it on. It's quite good actually.
>"You're one of the first students to say that. Even at University, they found it strange. So what can I do you for, Ms Shimmer?"
>Actually, he's got a point there. Why are you here? Apart from pleasing Twilight...
>‘Oh, Heck, think on your feet!’
"Errm... I need help with some homework Hardscribble gave me before the break."
>"I'll tell you what I told my students today, the deadlines have been extended by a week. I didn't say this but I still need to find them on the computer there." He points to the monitor on the desk.
>"Cracking Enigma was easier than decrypting whatever code Hardscribble was using." He muttered to himself.
"Forgive me for asking this but do you need help using it?"
>You ask rather sheepishly, knowing it is an insulting question but he simply grins; flashing his pearly white teeth.
>"I know my way around one, Ms Shimmer, don't you worry. It's more like going through the documents and filtering out the important files." He answers while squeezing that pink ball.
>"So what you need help with then? I presume you're a Junior so American history..." He trails off as he walks off to his desk.
>"Oh, Hell's teeth..."
"What's up?"
>"I left my briefcase in the classroom, I knew I was forgetting something. Would you kindly wait a moment?"
>He says as he walks out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
>‘At least, the music's alright.’
>One song ends, another begins.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VlXcF0WwFTI
>‘It may not be synthesised as much but it's another golden oldie, that's for sure...’
>‘He seems like the perfect gentleman. He's a bit scruffy but it's the end of the day. I'm sure I'm not the picture of perfection right now.
>‘His accent is like that creep Mr Combe's but a little smoother. Not as pronounced, like he's lived here longer than Mr Combe has.’
>‘Okay, so he's not from this country. So what? Why is Twilight so interested in him?’
>You trip your eyebrows in thought as you stand and walk to his desk. You read some of the paperwork on it.
>Some are in Hardscribble's writing but some aren't. Some memos dated today...
>‘His handwriting is soft and readable. His first name's Anonymous...’
>‘Anonymous Endeavour... That name, why is it familiar?’
>You move back to your seat. You hear the clip-clop of footsteps.
>The song playing hits a peaks with a powerful guitar solo.
>‘Wow, okay. This golden oldie is actually good. I should tell Rainbow about this...’
>He re-enters the office, clutching a black briefcase.
>He sees you nodding your head to the tune.
>"Enjoying it? It's called 'Eyes Without A Face' by Bucky Idol>‘ if you're interested.
>He puts the briefcase on his desk, pops it open and grabs some paper.
>"Here we are. Junior-level American History. What was your issues with it?"
>You snap back into reality. Reaching for your messenger bag, you look in it to find the homework, half-completed luckily.
>‘Keep the illusion up, I suppose.’
"It concerns some questions about the United States in World War I."
>He shuffles the paperwork and finds the correct one.
>"What exactly are the questions you're stuck on? Neutrality? The Lusitania? Belleau Wood?"
>You find some unanswered questions.
"Belleau Wood. The information on the Internet was sketchy at best."

>"Research Hill 142 and the battle in the woods themselves, check the library out if necessary. I can't give you all the answers, Ms Shimmer, but I can give you the answer to question 15, it asks for a direct quote, yes?
>You nod.
>He grins. "The language is a bit blue though, 'Come on you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?' Don't worry, I look like a big, soft nelly but I don't mind swear words. I even resort to using them myself."
"Of course, sir."
>One song ends, another begins.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNu0VIoY9nY
>‘Another blast from the past...’
>"Was there any other questions you have a problem with?" He asked.
"No, that's it. Thanks for your help."
>"It's what I'm here for."
>His smile falters as he mulls over something. He runs his tongue under the top row of teeth.
>"Actually, could you help me with something, Ms Shimmer?"
>‘It'll be about Twilight, it'll be about Twilight, it'll be about Twilight.’
"Sure, go ahead"
>You're screaming internally though.
>"Would you know if Mrs Harshwhinny is still here?"
>You exhale internally.
"No, she left. She finishes early on a Wednesday."
>"What about Miss Pearl?" He queries.
"She ought be here. My last period was her math lesson."
>He rolled down his sleeves and redid the buttons. As he grabs his green jacket, he asks you another question.
>"Can you take me to her classroom please? I need to talk to her about something."
"Sure, of course."
>He stops the music on his phone and puts into his inner pocket. You walk out with him and he locks the office door.
>"Can't be too careful. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"
>Your smile falters a bit.
>‘Quite the smooth talker as well.’
"I'm worried about one of my friends. She says she's fine but I don't believe her...
>"Do you mind me asking what it's about?" He gently inquired.
 
"No, it's alright. I want a different perspective. Our friends all say the same, 'she'll be fine, no need to worry. Twilight's a fighter, she'll plough on."
>"Twilight? He puzzled on. "This isn't Twilight Sparkle, by any chance?"
>‘To coin a phrase, whoops.’
"Yes. She mentioned she got into trouble and you were there with the Principal. I swear to you, she isn't like that. She's  gotten out of a bad relationship and I don't think she's... dealing with it healthily."
>He strokes that moustache with his index finger and thumb.
>‘Is that like a nervous tick or...’
>"This may sound like generic advice but..." He hesitated for a moment but continued, "try and get her to open up but you tried that already?"
"We did, but it didn't work."
>"Then keep trying." He said sympathetically, "It isn't right, bottling it up. I know it isn't..."
>He looks away from you and sighs, "Look, are we getting close? Seems like we're walking for miles."
"We're in the math department and you're looking for room 18. I'd best be heading back to Principal Celestia's office. Oh shoot, I knew I forgot something, the Principal will see you in her office."
>"Hmm, could have sworn she said in my office. Oh well, thanks for telling me. I'll see you tomorrow then, Ms Shimmer."
"Please, call me Sunset, Mr Endeavour."
>He smiles and offers his hand.
>You gently shake it, wary of his aforementioned aches.

>She shakes your hand gently.
>"Just one more thing." She queries, "Earlier, how did you know I was at the door before I knocked?"
>She actually looks confused.
>‘Strange.’
"It isn't a mystery, Sunset. Like I said, I was expecting someone and I saw a reflection in the window."
>She chuckles and shakes her head, "It seems dumb once someone explains it to you. See you tomorrow then."
>She turns around and walks off.
>‘Not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box but she's charming enough.’
>Room 18. You knock on the door.
>"Come in." A cheery voice answers.
>You pop your head around the door and see her packing up; putting her laptop into a bag.
>She looks up and see you standing in the doorway.
>"Oh, it's you. Want to come in then or just hover?" She asks.
>You silently stroll in, hands in your trouser pockets and head cast down. You look up and see her just staring at you.
"Look, I just wanted to apologise for my actions earlier. I'd apologise to Harshwhinny personally but she's gone for the day."
>She scratches the back of her neck in contemplation.
>"Thank you but you ought to really say sorry to Winnie but she'll expect you to grovel and you're clearly a man of pride so that'll never happen." She pauses to put on her grey suit jacket and royal blue jacket. 
>"I'll lay down the groundwork at least so she'll meet you half-way but don't be surprised if you have to get your knees a little dusty." She smiles, showing off her white teeth.
>‘If it wasn't for the hair and make-up, she could be a bonny lass.’
"Naturally, she's a woman of pride."
>She giggles, "Care to walk me to the faculty lot?"
>‘Am I paranoid or is she flirting with me?’
"I can't, I have to see Principal Celestia before I leave for tonight."
>"Oh well, you can walk me to the offices then." She says as she closes up and the two of you start walking.

>"I'll give you a warning. That Salt Combe. I know I shouldn't say such things but the man's a old woman."
>You're intrigued by her curious turn of phrase.
"Oh, how so?"
>"You've seen it. He's a gossip and a maker of mischief. He loves annoying Harshwhinny, which isn't surprising. Did he say he had an affair with her?
"And I thought it was only the pupils who screwed each other behind the bike shed. Hang on, what did you say about being a gossip?"
>She grins mischievously, "Do as I say, not as I do, Mr Endeavour. Besides, it's common knowledge."
>Rounding another corner, you find yourselves at the main stairs and getting close to the offices.
>You see those two girls leave; Twilight and Sunset. They leave in the opposite direction.
>"There's something strange about those two as well. Twilight Sparkle and Sunset Shimmer."
"I know who they are. I've met them today."
>"Like I said, it isn't my place to say. You'll discover all of them in time, trust me."
>You look perplexed.
"All of them?"
>"The rest of the gang. There is another five. What did Slawter say about them? 'What's the collective noun for schoolgirls like that? A jailbait?' Thought it was quite apt."
>‘REALLY can't see the obvious, can she?...’
"I'd best be heading in, Miss Pearl. I'd rather not keep her waiting."
>"Call me Oz, please, and fine. I'll see you tomorrow then." She gives you a beautiful smile and saunters off.
>You catch yourself staring at her shapely legs and thighs, covered by a neat plaid skirt.
>‘A fine woman like that could do terrible things to a man's libido.’
>Shaking such wicked thoughts from your head, you knock on the outer office door.
>Getting no answer, you open it and see no-one in the office.
>‘That Inkwell must have gone home...’
"Hello? Anybody at home?"
>No answer.
>Finding the door marked "Principal Celestia" with a little sun symbol under it, you give it a gentle knock.
>"Come in, please."     340 words
>You open up and stop inside.
>Typing away behind a monitor is a tired-looking Celestia.
>Her tan blazer sits on a coat hook. As does your scarf! So you did leave it here!
>She looks up at you and gives you her radiant smiles
>"You left that on your interview day. I only remembered it because I saw it on my back seat this morning."
"Thanks for that."
>She sighs loudly as you grab your scarf, "I received an e-mail from Superintendent Discord earlier. He's saying he got yet another e-mail from Harshwhinny and this one is about you, Eddie."
"Oh, well, I have explained the situation to you..."
>She cuts you off, "He says I will deal with the issue as I see fit." She stands from her seat and gives you a hard stare. You feel like Twilight from earlier.
>"Harshwhinny is a windbag. Stop worrying." She sits back down.
>‘Wut?’
"Wut?"
>"Seriously, stop worrying, you'll be a nervous wreck by the end of the week."
"I don't understand. I thought I was getting a bollocking but now, I'm just confused."
>Again, that bloody smug grin...
>"Neither Discord nor myself put much stock into Harshwhinny's petty complaints. And what she says is already common knowledge about yourself. Don't panic."
>Now, you loudly sigh.
"Nothing to worry about, I suppose. Well, maybe one thing..."
>She turns off the monitor and stands up.
>"Care to share, Eddie?"
"Yeah. It's about one of the pupils I met. Sunset Shimmer."
>"Oh. What about her?" Celestia simply inquires with a blank face as she put her blazer on.
"Nothing much, if you're wrapping up, we can talk about it later. I'm done for the day. What I can do today can be put off 'til tomorrow."
>"I'll meet you over there then."
>Leaving her office, you swear you heard a squeak of another door closing...
>‘Must be the floorboards.’ 

>Shaking your head, you make a bolt for your office.
>‘Left, right, left, left. Into the history department.’
>Making your way through the last of the stragglers, you reach your office and open up.
>You stuff whatever relevant paperwork into the briefcase and your laptop and pen-drives into the messenger bag.
>Straightening up your tie and combing your hair, you want to look presentable...
>‘What the hell am I doing? I'm just walking her to her car, not going on a date.’
>‘At least sort your hair out. You must look a mess, matey.’
>Putting the comb back into one pocket and taking the scarf out of another, you wrap it around your neck. Your mind starts to wander...
>"You almost done, Eddie, or will the grass grow under your feet?" A soft voice asks.
"You can talk, Gail. Takes a half-hour to put your face on..."
>"Gail? It's me, Eddie. Celestia."
>You turn to face her and indeed it was Celestia. She was wearing a simple white fabic overcoat and carrying a tan briefcase.
"Oh, sorry, Celly. It's what you said. Gail says something like that if you make her wait. Just another minute."
>With everything packed up, you grab your own Mac overcoat, button it up and you put the messenger bag around you.
>Politely showing her out, you lock up for the day and walk out with her.
>"You miss her, don't you? I'm not surprised, really..." She gently inquires.
"I do. Even after what she did, I miss her. That's the bizarre thing, really. I should hate her but I don't."
>"You can't just turn your emotions on and off like a table lamp, Eddie. If you spend half your life with someone, you find any number of excuses for their ...  idiosyncrasies. No matter how foul they are..."
"Are you married, Celly?"

>You ask as she lightly smiles.
>"I was. We divorced eight years ago. We had to in the end, he was sent to prison. Saddleworth. For murder."
>You're shocked. You never knew Celestia could ever ... marry such ...
>You stop in your mental tracks.
>‘Don't be daft, you never would have guessed Gail was ever capable of murder...’
"Murder? Who did you marry?"
>She turns to face you, still smiling. Like she's comfortable with what she's talking about.
>"Really? For a smart man, you are stupid. It made national news when it broke. His name is Kingsley...
>The intercom clunks and crackles into life. 
>"CELESTIA! WHERE ARE YOU? IF YOU'RE STILL HERE, GET TO THE OFFICE, PRONTO!"
>"Luna? What does she want? Come on, let's get moving." She says as she hurries to the offices.
"Do... do I have to as well?"
>"Oh, grow up!" she grunted.
>You catch her up with her as she enters the office. Both Luna and Oz and in the main office. Oz looks concerned while Luna looks pissed off. Then she looks at you and just raises an eyebrow but turns her attention to her sister.
>"Well, what's the problem?" Celestia starts off.
>"Miss Pearl reports one of the cars in the faculty lot has been vandalised." Luna states
>"Yes, nothing serious, hopefully. Just looks like glitter and confetti. But I think it's glued on." Oz confesses.
"What car is it?
>You ask, slightly concerned.
>"The big red one."
"FUCK!!!"
>You bellow as you charge out of the room and down the corridor, to the side doors.
>The other three also run behind as you barge through the door and see your pride and joy glittering in the dying winter sun like a disco ball.
" 'Ow the 'ell can summat like tha' 'appen!"
>When you're royally pissed off, the natural accent slips out, making you sound a damn sight more common.
>"Oh, my indeed!" Celestia exclaimed
>"Wow!" Luna spluttered out before mumbling something to herself
"It's either owt or nowt with me, innit?"
>"SURPRISE!!!!"    342 words.

>All four of you turn to the source of the voice. In the far corner is a bright pink delivery van and a young pink-haired lass moves from it towards all of you, throwing conspicuous amounts of confetti from her pockets
>"Pinkie Pie! What's the meaning of this?" Vice Principal Luna demands.
 >"I wished to welcome our new teach by brightening up his day!"
"By vandalising my car! I think you're a few crumpets short in your tuck box!"
>You shout at her but she just smiles madly.
>Your anger slowly drains away to be replaced with ... intrigue...
>‘She can't be ... can she?’
>"Mr. Endeavour please, calm down, you forget where you are." Principal Celestia commands. "Pinkie, what you did was very stupid. We need to talk, now."
>"I didn't mean no harm. I saw him looking glum this afternoon and I'd thought...
"You'd thought wrong."
>You grunt as you storm off to your car, cracking open the boot lid and dump your stuff into it as Celestia continues telling off this Pinkie Pink character.
>Looking through the car, you spot something crouching at the front of the car.
>Rainbow-coloured hair...
>Slipping your shoes off, you silently creep between your car and the blue coupe parked next to yours.
>‘Can't have been the only one to ruin her. Be quiet, she hasn't noticed...’
>Getting the jump on her, you lean over and roughly grab her arm, making sure she doesn't the chance to run off.
>"DAHH! LET GO ME!"
"PRINCIPAL!!! GET OVER HERE!"
>Celestia and Oz run over while Pinkie stays with Luna.
>"Mr. Endeavour, what's the meaning of this?"
"I caught this one loitering around my car. I suspect she's involved."
>"Rainbow Dash, what were you doing?"
>"Nothing! I swear! I was just tying my shoes up." She answers while rubbing her hands.

>Miss Pearl chines in, "Rainbow, open your hands."
>"No!" She barked.
>"Rainbow! Open your hands up!" Celestia demands
>Rainbow looks between her principal and her teacher to her friend. She nods.
>She opens up. Gluey...
>"Right. You and Pinkie will come to my office and you explain to me why you thought this was a good idea. Mr Endeavour, you may as well get on your way home. You'll have a long night ahead of you."
"No."
>You say, releasing the young girl from your hands.
>"I'm sorry?" Celestia challenged.
"I thought of a suitable enough punishment. If these two defaced my car, they can help restore it. Assuming it's stuck on with cheap glue, you can remove it with some hair-dryers and stiff cardboard. Sounds better than detention or expulsion..."
>Rainbow Dash looks hopeful and glaces back to Pinkie.
>"Alright. Good idea that. Oz, do you mind staying back a bit longer?" Celestia asks Pearl
>"Not really, I'll help out." Oz answers.
>"Good. Escort these two and Luna to the offices. Get some money out of petty cash and buy some hair-dryers. Industrial-strength ones."
>Celestia directs her attention to Rainbow Dash, "Luna will escort you and Pinkie Pie to the Art department and you will get cardboard to scrape the glitter and glue off it."
>She nods meekly as Oz Pearl walks away with her to Pinkie and Luna and explains the situation.
"You handled that well, Celly."
>You say as she turns to you.
>"Come on, we've got things to do. The shed where the janitors keep the gardening equipment is over there by the gymnasium. We'll prep some soap and water up and I believe you'll need tree sap remover to take the residue off."
"Sounds like you know what you doing."
>Celestia smiles, "I speak from experience, I've taught young delinquents in the past. It isn't the first time I've done a valet job on someone's car."
"That girl, Pinkie Pie..."
>You wonder aloud.
>"Yeah. What about her?"
"It's nothing."
>"If you say so. Come on, follow me, Mr. Endeavour."
"Yes, Principal."

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