“Hello, Anon.” The masked human jumped at the unexpected interruption. “Don’t bother getting up, we have some business to discuss.”
“H-how did you get in here?!” The masked, anonymous human demanded, turning to see a dirt-colored earth pony standing uncomfortably close at his back, smirking cheerfully.
“Oh, you're going to need a new door pony, by the way.” The earth pony vanished in a flash of green flames, replaced by a cyan maned changeling stallion. “The last one just wouldn’t stop slamming the door on his head for some reason. Well, until he stopped. I think he broke something. I mean he definitely broke something, Velvet, is the unitard still breathing?”
“Y-yeah boss, but he’s twitching in a bad way,” a nervous mare’s voices carried from the adjoining room.
“Be a dear and stomp on his head until he stops,” the changeling said with a smile, “I can’t stand twitchers.”
“W-what do you want from me?” The human reached under his work-bench as he spoke.
“Oh, what does anypony want from you, Anon? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not your charming companionship.” The changeling smiled broadly. “And why are you pointing a gun at your own head? Honestly, that’s no way to threaten somepony who broke into your hide-out.”
“What are you doing to me, you damned bug?” Anon began to panic as he realized he was in fact pointing the gun at himself.
“Funny thing, did you know changelings are NOT telepathic?” The changeling explained calmly as he circled around Anon. “I mean, with all the mind control, and the psychic vampirism, you’d assume they were, right? You’d think there would at least be some kind of ‘hive mind’, what with the whole insect motif, but sadly no. It turns out the one thing changelings don’t use psychic powers for is talking to each other. Isn’t that just crazy ironic?”
“Please, don’t kill me. I’ll do anything you want! Anything!” Anon pleaded with the grinning changeling, unable to move the gun from his head. “You can make me a love slave, changelings do that, right? I won’t produce much love with my brains on the floor!”
“Really? Love slave? Seriously?” The changeling rolled his eyes. “Relax, Jimbo, nobody has to die here…”
“He’s not twitching anymore boss!” Velvet Hammer reported loyally from the next room.
“Well except for him obviously.” The changeling heaved a sigh and shouted back to his hench-pony, “Timing, Velvet, dear. You really have to work on your timing. You’ll have to excuse Velvet, she’s a minion-in-training.”
“What do you want from me?” Anon shifted his eyes nervously.
“First off, I want this.” The human’s gun was scooped up in the changeling telekinetic grip. “Oooo, a Glock. Good taste.”
“You know what a Glock is?” the confused human cocked his head, peril momentarily forgotten.
“Former human… ish.” The changeling admitted with a grin. “An you’re actually really lucky I need a bomb-maker, you do make bombs right? I mean, you made a boom-stick, so I assume you can make a bomb.”
“You’re a terrorist?” The masked human blinked incredulously.
“Terrorist is such an ugly word. The changeling tsked. “I prefer to think of myself as more of a mass murderer. Oh and a rapist, but we’ll talk about that later.”
“Wait… what?!?!” Anon gasped in alarm.
“The point is, Night Shift isn’t very happy, and when my dear widow maker isn’t happy, things die painfully.” The changeling shrugged with a smile. “Your former employer gave you up rather easily. He really should have turned himself in. Celestia, for all her faults isn’t known for pulling pony’s legs off like flies. The good news is that his family are more than happy with his replacement and now I have a mole in the nobles. Also, Nighty Night still has a soft spot for yours truly so she’s gonna let me keep you as a pet.”
“Who are you?” Anon asked in near panic.
“Oh, I’m nopony of any importance.” The changeling grinned widely. “Have you ever been to Baltimare? Don’t answer that, the answer is not important. Velvet dear, will you bring Anon his present.”
“Coming, boss!” a colt-faced brown earth pony mare entered pushing a wheelchair.
“What are you doing?!?!” Anon tried to bolt, only to find himself held in a vice-like magical grip.
“Night Shift had one little stipulation, the changeling that died was her sister… well sort of,” the changeling narrated cheerfully, “Changelings generally don’t form sibling bonds, but the Shifts are a special case. The point is, you made the gun that killed poor little Day Shift, and I’m not too happy about that myself, she was the pretty one…”
“Please! It wasn’t my fault! I’m not the one who killed her! It wasn’t even my call, it was Gold Brick! I just…” Anon found himself silenced by a magical gag.
“You just traded several of my drones into slavery with a crooked noble, I know.” The changeling waved his hoof dismissively. “And honestly, if you had given me a cut of the action that wouldn’t have even been a problem. But… Day Shift… what can ya do? With my circus in the shitter, and half my minions either dead, in the pokey, or done jumped ship, I gotta keep Night happy. Believe me, this is NOT how I normally welcome new members to Team Nopony. And honestly you would have been a lot more useful to me with your feet, but like I said, you really upset Night Shift. Just be glad I need somebody to make the bombs. Velvet dear, pass me the saw. And you might want to step out of the room, I know how squeamish you can get with blood.”
“I made that unicorn stop twitching, though.” The mare pulled a jagged saw from a worn corduroy bag. “I’m getting better, right, boss?”
“You are getting better,” the Nopony responded with a warm smile, “You’re still no Whatserface, but you’re getting there. It seems like it was only yesterday you were failing to rob humans in an alley. You’ve come a long way dear. I’m proud of you. Now out you go! I can’t have you tossing your cookies, and I need somepony to keep a lookout. Alright, Mr. Anonymous, I’m going to take the gag off now, so make sure to scream like your feet are being cut off with a dull saw.”