Sitting at the counter in a malt shop, Velvet Step stared at Socket Wrench.
Socket Wrench stared back at Velvet Step.
Slowly, Velvet’s eyes tracked down to the frosty mug of root beer that Socket Wrench’s very fake mustache was now stuck to.
The mug stared back at Velvet nonchalantly.
Slowly, Velvet’s eyes tracked back to Socket Wrench, his flimsy yet heretofore impenetrable disguise finally pierced.
“Ok,” said the changeling who was actually Socket Wrench. “Before you scream —”
“Changeling!”
The malt shop immediately flew into a panic.
“Darnit, Velvet!” Leaping out of his chair, Socket Wrench/Vril Drox raised one hoof/tarsus into the air and then threw it towards the floor. Immediately, a thick cloud of smoke appeared and obscured his escape, leaving Velvet to sit at the counter coughing.
An instant later, she was tackled to the ground, pinned under a good deal of steel and stallion. “Looks like changelings aren’t so good at hiding after all. You’re under arrest!” said the Royal Guard who was in the process of detaining her.
“You’ve got the wrong pony!” Velvet shouted as restraints were applied to her hooves. “I’m not a changeling!”
“Sir, I need you to step back!” another Guard loudly ordered the glass mug that the mustache was still stuck to. “You are interfering with official Royal Guard work!”
Velvet stared at the exchange blankly. “On second thought, maybe you should arrest me.”