THE BEST CONVERSION BUREAU STORY EVER.

>Conversion Bureau
>I know nothing of this universe

TIME TO WRITE.
=================
>*ding*
>The orange mare starts at the door sliding open, her chest rising and falling suddenly
>Checking your clipboard, you hum softly.
>This must be your 11 o'clock appointment.
"Hello there... Miss Applejack?"
>The mare turns with another jump, seeing you for the first time
>"Ah! Ahm... ahm sorry, sir, ah didn't see you there."
>You smile, holding the clipboard against your hip
"Happens all the time, Miss Applejack. There's nothing to be concerned about-"
>"Concern?! There's plenty to be concerned about - newfangled unicorn flights of fancies, doors shouldn't open by themselves!"
>She looks up at you, scrunching for a moment before remembering herself. "Ah... sorry. Ah guess I am a little nervous."
>You kneel, your training kicking in to make her feel more comfortable
"Hey. It's ok. Everyone's nervous their first time here, but once the Bureau is finished you'll be right as rain."
>She quirks an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across her muzzle. "Right... I'll withhold judgement until we're done with this dang court-mandated bullhockey."
>You chuckle, standing up.
"Then, down the hall to our right. Your partner is already waiting for you."
>"Gentlecolts first."
>Smiling, you bow slightly - and lead the way.
***
>You click the button on the panel, your voice crackling to life from your observation booth
"Can both of you hear me?"
>Miss Applejack nods her head
>Candidate #14807 nods his head as well
>Separated from her by a thick, heavy curtain, is Candidate #14807, known to his fellow humans as Mr. Bob Smith.
>At first you thought that was a poorly-created nom de plume, but no
>His name is actually Bob Smith.
>Middle America... bless their little hearts. Solid, sturdy people, no creativity amongst them at all
"Alright. I'm just sitting here behind the glass just so I can view the whole process and give advice. The doors that you used to come into this room are unlocked; you can leave anytime."


>A somewhat gravelly voice echos through the speakers as Mr. Smith shifts on his chair. "Ahlright. But Ifn' this thing bites me, I'm gon' defend mahself."
>"B-bite! What in tarnation - I ain't no mule!" Applejack cries out, turning to face the thick curtain
>"So they kin' talk! Hah!"
>*Ding~*
>You release the blue button, both heads turning towards you as one
>Always creepy to see that shit happen
"Hey now. The Conversion Bureau does not approve of street brawls in our office. Let's keep it civil, Bob?"
>Letting out a sigh, the sturdy man deflates a bit. "Fine. This ain't my idea... but I'm outta options."
"You realize she can hear you, right?"
>"She? I didn't know them aliens had girlfolk!"
>As the redneck smiles a warm and hopeful smile, Applejack on the other side of the curtain is just
>Her face doesn't know what expression to rest on
>Confusion, Anger, Curiosity, a little bit of Anticipation...
>Hm. 
>You smile as you get the read on her.
"Well... how about we just start off with introductions. Bob?"
>Bob sighs. "Ahm Bob Smith, yes that is mah name. Born in Missouri - uh. Farmer. Well, was, until agro-corporate bought my farm. 30 years old, never married." 
>He looks at you - well, at his reflection in the mirror to your booth - and shrugs. 
>"I like long walks on the beach?"
"Heh. Cute - Applejack?"
>"Well. Ah don't mind the beach. The dolphins keep sassin' us, though. Damn water cousins."
>You blink, a half-laugh stuck on your face. 
>You don't... have to respond to everything, Applejack
>"Ah. I work my own farm - Sweet Apple Acres - it's an apple farm, but we do grow all sorts of other things fer supplemental income. Family's still on the farm, uh. Me, M' Brother, little sister an Granny Smith."
>"Y'all have a muti-generational farm?"
>"Uh, yeah! Granny actually founded it...."
* * *

>>30247098
>"-And then we realized, Granny was doing all of that just on her own!"
>Bob laughed - a belly laugh, which was good, a grin plastered on his face. "Damn, that reminds me of the time Jeb got into th' moonshine and tried to take over Florida!"
>Wellllll this is probably a good place to move to step 2
>You click the red button
"Hey you two - glad you're hitting it off. Are you ready to pull the curtain back? Feel comfortable with each other?"
>"Son, even if nothin' happens here an I don't get a job, I'll still take this Applejack out for a drink. She's a hoot-"
>Applejack laughs, turning to face the curtain in her chair. "Naw, that ain't right - th' Mare buys the drinks. And ifn' you can haul a cart, you kin' work on mah farm."
>Well. This is going swimmingly.
>With the click of the green button, the curtain slowly pulls away, revealing each participant to each other
>Their smiles disappear, but not due to disgust
>More....
>Their entire brain is trying to understand what they're looking at
>Especially Bob, you'd think - he's never seen a small pone in the flesh before
>Silence falls
>Now the important thing to do - and what rookie converters do - is they break the silence
>But you can't. It makes it more awkward
>You gotta let them do it themse-
>"Ah. Hello, Sir. Nice tah meet you... again."
>Applejack sheepishly takes off her hat, acting the 'proper' gentlemare infront of a colt
>Bob mimics her, taking off his red baseball cap
>Awww. That's cute.
>"Uh... I like your uh. Yer hat."
>"Th-thanks... you too."
>The silence stretches on, each participant looking at each other, then looking away
>Aww
>You click the red button again
"The next step is physical contact... Bob? Why don't you [spoiler]hold out your hand[/spoiler]?"
* * *
>"Aahn~"
>"L-Lord, uh, I don't-"
>Applejack bit her hoof, moaning softly as she sat on the farmer's lap
>His hands were knuckle-deep in her chest fluff, kneading gently
>Another one falls to the horsefucker conversion bureau