Nobody was better at being an adult than Ocellus. That’s what she told herself every morning, staring in the bathroom mirror of her drafty studio apartment in downtown Manehattan. The first of her friends to move out of her parents’ house, the first of her friends to score an actual job interview—the first of her friends to learn how to change a lightbulb on her own! A real lightbulb! But the job interview was what had her most excited this week. It only took three weeks of applying to every job in the Classifieds section, but she’d finally earned an invite to the top floor of Haruspex, Equestria’s leading magical science firm. With any luck, she’d be walking out as the newest member of their Transmutation Research lab. She walked down Second Avenue with her head held high, barely yelping when a dead leaf crunched under her hoof. Her years spent at the School of Friendship had given her many things, but most importantly, it had given her confidence. She’d grown from a quivering child into a hot twenty-something with a chip on her shoulder and a host of suppressed anxiety issues. Just like in the movies! She would ace this interview for sure, and she would make her friends back at the School of Friendship proud. [hr] The interviewer slapped Ocellus’ resume back down on the desk. “Ms. Ocellus, I’ve been through a lot of job interviews in my life. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen anypony so young with so much experience!” Ocellus hid her blush. “I’m flattered, sir. But it’s nothing special; I’ve just always been taught to do my best wherever I can.” “A five-year position interning at Ponyville Hospital, all the while tutoring grade schoolers in biology and chemistry, balanced out with an honorary position on the New Changeling Empire’s scientific research council... and that’s not even going into your research credits.” The interview chuckled. “Talk about a good first impression, missy.” “Thank you,” said Ocellus, bowing her head. “And thank you to my alma mater, as well. Without them, I wouldn’t have had any of these opportunities.” “I suppose that’s a perfect segue into reviewing your educational history, yeah?” asked the interviewer with a grin. He picked Ocellus’ resume again and scanned down the page—only for his smile to fade. “Eh, Ms. Ocellus... where exactly did you earn your degree?” Ocellus beamed. “The School of Friendship!” The interviewer stared. “The School of Friendship,” Ocellus repeated, her beam dimming. “You know, in Ponyville? Headed by Princess Twilight Sparkle?” “Didn’t that place get shut down by the EEA for illegal practices?” “Only once.” “Uh-huh.” He squinted at the paper. “And you earned your degree in...?” “Friendship Philosophy!” Ocellus sang. The interviewer pursed his lips. “Could you explain what exactly that means?” Memories of her old school rushed back to Ocellus. Wings flitting in excitement, she explained, “Friendship Philosophy is the study of problems related to the theory of friendship: What is a friend? How do we make friends? What is the value of friendship? If one friend is tied to a railroad track and five friends are tied to another, is it moral to pull a lever and sacrifice the first friend, or leave the five to die? You know, basic things like that.” The interviewer just blinked a few times. Ocellus blinked right back. “If it makes any difference,” she added, “I never pulled the lever. Even during my final exam, when I had to go through the problem in real life.” Putting the resume back down, the interviewer narrowed his eyes. “You do realize that this is a science lab, right? Do you know what that means?” “Of course! I made friends with plenty of scientists over the years.” The interviewer gaped—then smiled. “I’ve got just the job for you!” Ocellus tried hard not to squeal. [hr] Ocellus tried hard not to groan. For the third hour in a row, Ocellus walked up and down the Haruspex mailroom, sorting envelopes and hauling fragile packages. Occasionally one would fall and she’d hear something crack, only to pull it back upright and keep on moving. Minimum wage wasn’t enough to deal with that sort of hassle. She finished that morning’s load of outgoing mail—only for a whistle to blow, and another two-ton bag of mail to fall from a chute and onto her desk. She sighed. “Is it too late to get a degree in Friendship Biomedical Engineering?”