//------------------------------// // School of Interrogation: Lesson 342 // Story: Mission: Improbable // by The card holder //------------------------------// While ponies fanned out in search of the Spy, he was skulking in the alleys, completely invisible. He had a few close calls with nosy ponies, but he had yet to be found out. As Sugarcube Corner came into view, the Spy noticed a certain pink mare standing out front. Looking behind him, he confirms his suspicions when he sees Pinkie Pie searching under a bale of hay. He wasn't the only one hiding, here. Turning back to the bakery, he slips forward as the fake pony heads inside. He follows silently, waiting to see where they go. When she starts descending the stairs to the storage room in the basement, the Spy follows closely behind. Once 'Pinkie' is in the middle of the dimly-lit basement, the Spy acts. He quickly rushes in, shutting the door behind him. The sudden noise causes the pony to whirl around. "Hel- ahem- Hello?" He had heard that dropped voice, cementing his belief that this was a changeling. Acting quick, he grabs a nearby chair and some unused rope (what it was doing down here, he decided not to think about). With speed that could rival the Scout's, he manages to push 'Pinkie' into a chair and tie her to it securely. The pink mare is heavily confused by this, and starts struggling to get out. It was in vain, however; when it came to tying someone up, the Spy had some experience. He also had experience in extracting information from people. Uncloaking, he strides forward, undisguised, smoking a cigarette as he always did. "What are you?" the false Pinkie asks. After a moment of hesitation, she adds, "Oh! Do you want me to throw you a party? Because I love parties, yep yep! And I'll invite all of Ponyville so they can meet the new-" "Oh, please, just SHUT UP." The Spy took his still lit cigarette and ground it into the pony's forehead, causing it to scream and reveal itself to be a changeling. The Spy smirked. "Now, then, I could just kill you right now..." He absentmindedly twirled his knife around to intimidate the changeling. "...or..." He points the blade right at the creature's neck. "...you can tell me what I want to know. Understand?" The changeling squirmed. "I'll never betray my queen!" The Spy smirked. "So, the queen is still alive? That's something good to know." The creature went silent in realization of his mistake. "But that's not all I want," the Spy continues. "You see, recently, it appears that the princess has found out about my existence." He begins to pace around the subdued changeling. "I've also noticed a lot of you... changelings... out and about. Rest assured, they were dealt with." The Spy could see the shivers running up its spine. Wait, do changelings even have a spine? Oh, sorry, there's things happening. The Spy looked up into seemingly nothing for a moment, annoyed, before resuming his slow pacing. "Now, I feel that the two may not be unrelated." He comes to a stop in front of a jar of salt. He grins wickedly, dipping the blade of his knife inside. "Now, if you tell me what I want to know, you can be on your way." "Burn in Tartarus." The Spy grinned. "Wrong answer." He stabs the salt-covered blade into the changeling's leg. Since it had an exoskeleton, he had to stab a bit harder that he normally would. His effort was met with success as the creature whimpered in pain from the knife, before screaming in agony from the salt. Apparently, salt was corrosive to a changeling's insides, as its leg became heavily swollen and blistered, cracking away more of the exoskeleton. "Now, will you tell me where your little changeling hive is?" The changeling struggled with more pain before answering. "N- Never." "Alright then, we've got plenty of time." He then reached down to the exposed exoskeleton and pulled- BRAVE CUT! Hello, Saxton Hale here, to say that the following scene was determined to be too graphic for this audience. I don't care if "Cupcakes" was much worse, this is even worse than that. So instead of subjecting the audience to the more grueling details, enjoy this picture I found in some old photo albums in my attic. Egads! That Spy is quite the expert at torture! Believe me, I should know after my little escapade into the heart of hippie country. Safe to say, there were no survivors. Wow, I didn't know that spook had it in him to do that! I like him a little more now. Wait, is he going to- AHAHAHA! He did! Bloody hell, this is awesome. I feel sorry for anyone who misses this. Oh, hey, it's over. We now return to your normal programming. He sprinkled more salt into the wound while simultaneously pulling on the piece of glass stuck in its eye- Woah! I thought we were past this scene! Bidwell, why did you say we were clear? Well, I think that if you don't shape up your act, then the gorillas will have someone new to wrestle! Sorry about that, folks. Bidwell can be a bit of, as the Americans say, a "dumbass" at times. Then again, he has had good business ideas before. When he suggested to me that we let those mercs make their own weapons, I thought he was crazy, and look how that turned out! Wait, is it over now? Are you sure this time? Okay then, we now resume your regular programming. The Spy wiped some stray changeling blood off his suit. He had just finished interrogating the insectoid creature, and it was now a quivering mess. Its legs were all but stripped of their exoskeletons, there was salt boiling in a majority of its wounds, and one of its eyes was poked out by a shard of glass. Its wings were simply torn from its back, and, strangely, there was flour all over him. The Spy got what he wanted from the interrogation. He had finally gotten the changeling to spill the fact that the hive was not too far from the Sweet Apple Acres farm. "Thank you for this bit of information," he says, pulling out the revolver. "But now..." He pulls back the hammer and points the barrel at the changeling's mangled face. "I must bid you adieu." BANG For some reason that he couldn't possibly fathom, no one seemed to notice the screaming coming from the basement of Sugarcube Corner. Out of sight, he adjusts his fedora on his head before cloaking and heading outside. The search for him had winded down a bit, but now there were Royal Guards posted at odd intervals along the street. They seemingly scanned any of the ponies that passed them with their magic, looking for the French infiltrator. He slips by hastily, going in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. Once out of town, he disguises himself as a random pony before heading out; progress would be faster this way, without him having to recharge his cloak by standing still. Going off to the farm, he ponders if the changelings really were involved in his cover being blown. Even if they weren't, he needed to lay low for a bit. What better place to hide than among other shape shifters? Meanwhile, yet again... "Mmmph mph mph mmmph!" "I have no bloody clue what you're sayin'." "Mmmmph! Mph mph!" "Really, I can't understand a word you're sayin'. Just show me what it is, already, Pyro." "Mmmph mph mph..." Spy has found: Fancy Fedora "...So what? That spook found a hat. Lucky bastard..." "Mmmmph!! Mph!!!" "Look, Pyro, I would care about the Spy, but I'm a bit busy being stabbed by the Spy-bots you keep missing. GAAAAAAAH!" "Mphmph mph mph..."