“Assistant!” Rarity called from her workroom.
“I’m here, Queen Marshmallow!” said a changeling as he ambled through the door.
“Don’t call me that,” Rarity said admonishingly.
“Sorry, Queen Marshmallow. I forgot.”
Rarity huffed and rubbed a hoof against her head, an dull ache already starting. “Listen, I have a very, very important job for you, so pay very close attention to what I’m about to say. Do you understand?” she said.
“I am listening, Queen Marshmallow!” her assistant replied.
“Good!” Rarity said, just a tiny bit happier. “Blah blah blah blah important client, blah blah fabric blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah Prince of All Saiyans, blah blah blah blah. Do not screw this up. Now, did you get all that?”
“Yup!”
Rarity observed the changeling — who she really should have assigned a name to — closely for a moment. “Could you repeat back everything that I just said to you?”
“There’s a chance!”
“Of course there is.” Really, she only had herself to blame for getting her hopes up. “Go to the big castle made of crystal just up the street from here, and tell Spike the Dragon that Rarity needs his help.”
“At once, Queen Marshmallow!” said the changeling with a happy salute. An instant later, he turned and walked out the door, leaving a frustrated Rarity alone with her own disappointment.
Outside of the boutique, the changeling walked merrily up the street.
“Changeling!” shouted an excitable pony. An instant later, Rarity’s head popped out one of the front windows.
“Put a disguise on while you’re in public, you idiot!” she shouted.
“As you command, Queen Marshmallow!”
Rarity ground a hoof into her face, considering her life. “Maybe developing new fashion really isn’t for me,” she mused, ducking back inside and shutting her window. “I think I’ll try to develop a drinking problem, instead.”