"What a joke! Not only did this pathetic reject Lightning Dust mail her former superiors an invitation to her team, but she also went ahead and included one of their ridiculous uniforms in the package! No way she really expected for those to end anywhere but in the trash!" Spitfire thought to herself after discarding the unexpected gift and sitting down at her desk. She had plenty of paperwork to go through today. So much in fact, that she got so lost in reading it she didn't even notice something warm and sticky climbing up her hind hooves and latching onto her skin. When a stimulating wave of pleasure finally surged through her body and had her full attention, it was already too late. She will be gladly accepting the offer and joining the ranks of the Washouts as a loyal disposable grunt, and she will be loving every second of it.
This picture also inspired this fanfic (rated "Mature").