Engineer

"So, Scoots. What's got you down?"
>"Some bullies from school have been bullying me about not being able to fly lately."
"Really now? Hmm."
>Suddenly, inspiration strikes.
>You're already setting out the schematics in your head.
>Sure, they're half missing and most of it's just blabbering about how cool it'll be, but it'll probably work.
>Probably.
"Say, if I build you some sort of flying machine, would you be willing to test it?"
>Her eyes light up like Christmas trees.
>"Would I!"
"Meet me back here this time tomorrow. I'll have it then."
>You part ways.

"Sup, AJ. Mind if I use one of your barns for something? Thanks."
>"Now wait just a minute there, mister!"
>You turn to face her, and put on your most displeased expression.
"What?"
>"The last time I let you use one of my barns, half of it was gone and the rest was on fire!"
"I thought it would liven the place up a little. Now, if that's all, I'm going."
>You ignore Applejack's protests as you walk into one of the barns.
>She wants a barn that won't be destroyed by your work? You'll have to build her one!
>With indestructible panelling, and fireproof supports, and a whole mess of defences against those that would disturb you while you work!
>But now, flying device.
>You push open the door to a barn, then sweep off a table.
>Hmm. You'll need parts for this.
>You whistle sharply.
>And a brass frog hops up onto the bench.
>He was the first thing you built upon coming here.
>You were looking at a pocket watch, then decided to make a frog out of it.
>His name's Rivets.
"Good boy. Now, I'm gonna need some things. Can you fetch 'em for me?"
>"Rivet, rivet!"
"Thanks. I'm gonna need quite a bit of iron panelling, a steam boiler, some copper tubing..."
>You list off some more ingredients, then dismiss Rivets.
>He hops away to get you what you need.
>He's so helpful.
>Now, to fill in the blanks of this design...
>You start to carve a blueprint into the surface of the table.
>Rivets returns some time later, towing a pile of spare junk.
>Lots of scrap metal and tubing, a steam boiler, a coil or two of copper wire, some panes of glass, and some assorted chemicals.
>Close enough to what you had in mind.
>You start to lay out the parts in order of when you'll use them.
>Hmm.
>This thing could be dangerous.
>You whip up a nifty pair of safety goggles, then get to work.
>The next few hours are filled with bolting plates of metal together, welding things on, and copious quantities of napping.
>Being an engineer is hard work!
>As you work, the sun rises to it's apex, then sets to the horizon.
>You tighten the last bolt and stand back to admire.
>She's a beauty, for sure.
>And you calculate a mere 40% chance of critical failure!
>And by calculate, you mean guess.
>Well, time to turn in for the night.
>You make a pile of the softer bits of scrap Rivets has brought you, then fall asleep upon it.
>You rest easy, but have the niggling thought all through the night that there's something out there that doesn't like what it can see in your head.
>Not sure why you think something can see inside your head, but it's probably nothing.
>You awaken at about midday.
>You stand up, and brush yourself off, and stretch.
>You gaze upon your creation, and realise a few things.
>There's no way that's running for long without overheating.
>There's no way to turn it on or off.
>And there's no way to fuel it, much less get the fuel for it.
>You grab some trusty tools, and start to fix your contraption.
>You wire up an ignition switch, then slash a few vents into it.
>Grabbing a few bits of metal, you weld on some fins to dissipate heat, as well.
>And you carve a hole in it to the fuel tank that you can seal up with a cork later.
>Now, fuel.
>You grab a few barrels of chemicals that look combustible, and mix them together into what is no doubt some sort of rocket fuel.
>It is now time to show Scootaloo your new flying device.
>You heft your new device and it's fuel, and lug them to where you told Scootaloo to meet you yesterday.
>Maybe you should've built this out of something lighter?
>But then again, not much else would stand up to this much strain.
>You sit around for a while, before a familiar orange pegasus approaches.
"Hey, Scoots!"
>"Hi, Anon! What do you have there?"
"A jetpack!"
>She ooohs and aaaahs at it, before asking the inevitable question.
>"What's it do?"
"It flies. Strap yourself in."
>Scootaloo finally seems to notice the rather rickety construction of the jetpack.
>"I... I don't know, Anon. Seems kinda unsafe."
>You kneel down beside her, and gaze into her eyes.
"I solemnly swear that this machine is completely, one hundred percent, safe."
>You tap her on the noggin.
"Now are you ready to fly or are you ready to fly!?"
>"Yeah!"
>She's got a grin on her face! Spitting image of yours when you're working on something.
>She crawls under the jetpack, and pulls the belt tight around her waist.
>You take off your goggles and give them to her.
"For safety, you understand."
>She nods eagerly, and prepares herself for takeoff.
>You pop the cork out of the side, pour the fuel in, and pop the cork back in.
>Then, you turn the ignition knob, and the contraption roars to life.
>Flames jet out the back, and after a few sputtering coughs, the rocket takes off, Scootaloo along with it.
>You can hear her raucous laughter as she soars through the sky, before it nosedives into the ground and explodes into a fireball.
>You rush over to see if your machine can be salvaged, and see Scootaloo crawl out of the crater, singed but otherwise fine.
>The goggles are perfectly fine.
>"That was fun! I wanna do that again!"
"You wanna help me fix this hunk of junk, then?"
>"Yeah!"
>And that's how you got an assistant.