"So, if I am understanding this correctly..." Saffron Masala looked up from the convention guide and squinted at Pony Joe. "This convention is dedicated to you, Joe?"

Joe blinked, distracted by a passing group of mares in matching princess uniforms. "Huh?" He turned to look at Saffron. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Saffron held up the pamphlet and tapped the front cover: 'PonyCon 2018'. "See? A Pony Con for Pony Joe!"

"Oh. OH." Joe rolled his eyes. "Haha, great joke, very funn–"

"Wait, is that why we came to this stupid convention?" Ginger leaned their enormous draconic head down into their conversation and stared at the pamphlet, smoke trailing frustratedly from their nostrils. "What the heck, Joe, why didn't you just tell me that you had your own convention? Now this whole holiday actually sounds fun."

Joe stared at his dragon friend for a second. Then he rubbed the space between his eyes and sighed. "Okay, now this is just getting silly. No, you two, PonyCon isn't about me. It's just. Y'know. About ponies."

Ginger frowned at him. "Then why did you get all dressed up? You're wearing your best suit and everything." They paused, and sniffed Joe's mane. "...And you have mousse in your hair."

"Oh!" Saffron hopped in excitement. "The suit is for your Gala, is it not, Joe? The main event of the whole, well, event!"

"Yes. No! Sort of! Urrggh." Joe shook his head. "Look, can you two just wait 'till we get into the actual convention before we get into this?"

Ginger groaned. "But the queue."

Joe glanced ahead. It was true – the queue to collect PonyCon passes stretched on ahead and behind them, up to the desk in front and all the way out to the foyer in the next hall over. Around them, ponies and gryphons and changelings and, in Ginger's case, a dragon all talked excitedly amongst themselves, dressed in colourful clothes and bedecked with cameras and lanyards and merchandise.

Joe smoothened the front of his expensive black tuxedo and mopped his brow with a spare handkerchief – it was a hot day in Baltimare, and really rather not the season for stuffy black suits. But it wasn't like there was anything he could have done about that, except maybe bring along one of Saffron's fans.

Ginger and Saffron, of course, didn't mind the heat one bit. Ginger's insides were made of lava, and Joe was pretty sure that Saffron's diet had more than prepared her for such a trifling heatwave, and her clothes were very suited to the–

Wait.

"Hey, Saff, aren't you coming to the Gala too?"

Saffron blinked at him. "Why, of course! I would not miss it for the world. Dancing and dresses and fine dining..." She sighed blissfully. "It sounds divine, Joe darling."

"Then where's your dress?" Joe gestured vaguely at her shirt and shawl. "It's formal dress only, y'know."

"Oh, tish and tosh." Saffron waved a hoof at him dismissively. "Unlike you, my dear Joe, I left my dress back in my hotel room. I will simply put it on before the event."

"Oh."

"Unlike you, who is somehow managing to get sweat all over my face from three feet away."

"Right." Joe tugged at his collar and tried not to feel stupid. "Yeah, makes sense."

Saffron frowned at him. "Speaking of which, why are you wearing your suit right now? It will be ruined!"

"It's my costume!" said Joe, a little too defensively. "I'm cosplaying as–"

A talon poked him in the back. "Hey, losers," Ginger's voice rumbled from somewhere above him. "We're up next."

Joe turned around. The ponies behind the desk stared back at him, manes frazzled and eyes glaring. As were the vaguely annoyed-looking creatures behind them, Joe realised. "Oops. Sorry, sorry!" He grabbed Saffron and scuttled over to the desk, Ginger ambling along beside him. "Hello! We're here to get our passes!"

The staff looked like they wanted to say something snippy at him, but thought better of it when they realised the enormous dragon that stood next to them was, in fact, with them. "Of course! And what are your names, please?"

"Saffron Masala!" sang Saffron.

"Ginger," rumbled Ginger.

"Mane." Joe smirked. "Con Mane."

Everyone stared at him in silence for a second.

"Sir," said the staff, as if they were talking to a foal. "There are other ponies waiting behind y–"

"No, no, that's the name I signed up with!" Joe gestured towards the piles of lanyards behind the desk. "I'm here for the cosplay contest, see, and I wanted to be in–"

"Sign-ups for the contest will be taking place in fourty-five minutes in the main hall, sir," the staff drawled as they bundled their lanyards into their arms. "Next, please!"

And the three of them were politely, but insistently displaced by the gang of ponies standing behind them.

"–Character," Joe finished lamely. He put on his lanyard and tried not to sulk.

"I did not know you were a fan of theatre, Joe!" Saffron chirped, inspecting his tuxedo with a critical eye. "And I like the costume. I think you look very characterful."

"No, it's not theatre, it's– Haven't you guys heard of Con Mane? From the movies?"

Ginger and Saffron looked at him blankly. "No," they said, in unison.

"Oh." Joe frowned. "...How?"

"I am a dragon," said Ginger, scowling.

"I am foreign!" said Saffron, smiling.

"Oh," Joe oh'd. This sort of thing tended to happen to Joe quite often – he hadn't many close friends until recently. "Right. Well, it's a popular character, and I'm dressing up as 'em for a contest. Judges'll look at all the entries and the best costume wins."

"Ah. I understand." Saffron rubbed her chin. "So you're all dressed up like this Con Mane pony, yes?"

"No."

"I do not understand."

"You know, I'm getting the feeling that you're doing this on–" A tingling sensation in Joe's ear made him stop, and he reached up reflexively to feel it – the earring he was wearing was vibrating gently.

Finally, Joe thought.

Saffron stopped and looked back at him. "Joe? Are you alright?"

Joe looked up at her, then glanced around. Ponies were flowing in and out of various doors in front of them, with corridors of yet more doors leading off to either side. The open archway in front of them led to an enormous hallway full of stalls and posters and flocking customers. The Vendor Hall, Joe supposed.

"Uh, you two go on ahead." Joe trotted off down a nearby corridor. "I just have to go to the little pony's room!"

"Okay!" Saffron glanced at the clock on the far wall. "Oh, gosh, the panel on Equestrian Cuisine is starting soon! I must hurry!"

Ginger had been staring off into the depths of the vendor hall for the entire conversation. "Hm?" they said, glancing back. "Oh. Yeah, uh, I'm just gonna go take a look-see at what you ponies are selling." And Ginger wandered over to the rows of vendor tables, muttering something about 'wonder if they got the next book' under their breath.

"I will see you at the gala, Joe!" Ginger sang, and she cantered off down the far corridor.

Joe, meanwhile, headed off in the direction of the toilets, then ducked into a quiet corner. He stood there, eyes darting around at the various clusters of creatures ambling around the foyer. Then he reached up and touched a hoof to his earring.

"Agent Con Mane here," Joe whispered. "Waiting for mission briefing."

Gentle static for a few moments, like the susurrus of shifting sands in an hourglass.

Then, "RAVEN HERE," came the voice from the earring, loud enough to send Joe reeling. "IS THAT YOU CON MANE? COME IN, CON MANE!" She was standing so close to the receiver on her end that the enchantment was warping and magnifying her voice. It was a bit like the full Royal Canterlot getting megaphoned right into your inner ear.

"Raven," Joe wheezed, "Could you... maybe just... step away from the thing a little bit?"

"WHAT?! I CAN BARELY HEAR YOU!"

"I said, step away from the–"

"WHAAAAAT?!"

"STEP AWAY FROM THE RECEIVER!" Joe shouted, before immediately clapping a hoof over his mouth. "...Please."

"OH. HANG ON JUST A–" Her voice faded into echoey footsteps for a few seconds. Then, "Is this better?"

"Yep." The ponies around Joe were shooting him nervous stares, and he was doing his best to deflect them with an awkward smile. "Much."

"Hurray! I-I mean, understood." Raven coughed. Joe realised that hearing someone cough right into your ear via weird enchantment is distinctly unpleasant. "So, you have successfully infiltrated the convention centre?"

Joe looked down at his lanyard. "Uh, yeah. The queues are a bit of a nightmare, but, you know how it–"

"Excellent. Then you should be able to see the object you will be protecting from where you're standing."

"Really?" Joe glanced around the foyer, skeptical. All he could see were the various visitors to the con, and the entrance to the vendor hall off in the distance. "I... don't see anything valuable enough that a master-thief would be trying to steal it from under everyone's noses. There's just a bunch ponies milling around in funny hats and plush toys."

"Ah, that is the beauty of our target's scheme. Look towards the Vendor Hall, Con Mane."

Joe peered through the distant archway. There was a bunch of stalls, some colourful posters, more ponies, Princess Celestia–

...Wait.

"Is that... is the Princess visiting the convention...?"

"Nope!" said Raven. "Seems you've finally noticed it. That is what the master thief we told you about is trying to steal."

"...A costume?"

"It's a plush toy, Agent Con Mane. It's worth thousands of bits. And we've just received warning that someone's going to try and steal it."

Pony Joe stood tall, brushing down the front of his suit. He swept hoof back through his oiled mane, and he smiled. "Not on my watch, Ms Inkwell. Con Mane is in the building."

"Sir," said the stallion, in a very weary tone. "Could you please stop that?"

Joe blinked, but didn't look away. "What? Me?"

"Yes, sir, you."

Joe frowned. "I'm just taking a look at your merchandise."

"Sir, you've been staring at the Princess Celestia plushie for nearly an hour, and it's making the staff incredibly uncomfortable. Could you please step away?"

Joe looked down. The tired-looking stallion manning the stall was watching him closely, along with – Joe now realised – the very heavy-looking earth ponies standing on either side of him. "Oh. Sorry." And then he went back to staring at the Princess Celestia plushie. "It's just. Y'know. It looks nice?"

"We know, sir."

"Aren't you worried that, like. Somepony might come along and–"

"Oh, hey Joe!" There was a rumble of heavy footsteps behind him, and Joe turned to see Ginger walking towards him. "Was wondering where you were?"

"Oh, is this guy with you?" said the stallion behind the stall – whose nametag said 'Hello! My name is BREVITY.' "Could you please take him back with you?"

Ginger blinked. "Uh, okay." They looked down at Joe, who was continuing. "Hey, Joe, need your help with something. Somepony."

"Oh? Uh?" Joe glanced back at Ginger, then took another look at the very intimidating-looking earth pony stallions. He realised that, maybe, he was just doing more harm than good at this point. "Hmm. Sure, sure, let's go."

Brevity sighed. "Thank Celestia."

"But I'm watching you." And Joe shot Brevity a suspicious glare, before turning around and following Ginger into the crowd.

Ginger waited until they were a good distance away before muttering, "The heck was all that about?"

"Hm? Oh. Nothin'. Don't you think that pony behind the desk was being sorta suspicious, though?"

Ginger looked at him, then glanced back over his shoulder. "Suspicious? How?"

"Well, y'know. He didn't like me watching the Celestia plushie."

"...Why?"

"I know, right? I think he might be trying to–"

"No, I mean. Why were you watching the plushie?"

"Uhh. Because it's... big?"

"Uh-huh. How long were you watching it for?"

"Uhhh."

"Do you have something you need to talk about, J–?"

Joe stopped, eyes wide, and jabbed a hoof at a nearby stall. "Whoa, wait, what the heck is that?"

Ginger blinked at him, then looked where Joe was pointing. Or, rather, at the Thing Joe was pointing at. If it could be called a Thing.

"...Is it a dragon?" asked Joe. The Thing was standing (or slumping? Existing, at least) next to a vendor selling fancy hats.

"Uh," said Ginger. They squinted at the Thing. "...Maybe? I thought it was a sea serpent."

"You'd know better than I would," said Joe. "Also, do sea serpents have legs? 'Cause this thing has six of them."

"Wait, what?"

"See, look, they're kinda all stumpy and swallowed up by all of that green, scaly... mass."

"It has wings, too! Lil' stumpy ones."

The Thing blinked.

"Uh oh." Joe looked over his shoulder. "...Is it staring at us?"

"Maybe. I think its eyes are staring in two different directions. So, maybe it's just sort of staring all over the place."

"I'm not sure whether that's scary or stupid."

"It is what it is. Or isn't." Ginger prodded Joe gently with a talon. "Never mind that, though. There's the thing I wanted your help with."

Joe stopped staring at the Thing and glanced over to where Ginger was pointing. Right in front of them, there was another stall – this one covered in stacks of familiar books with a pegasus on the front. A basket of foam kukri knives sat in front of it, and a pith helmet sat on the head of the stallion standing behind it.

Joe looked at it. Then he looked at Ginger, who was tapping their claws together and trying not to smile.

"Really?" asked Joe.

"Really," answered Ginger.

"Aren't those for kids?"

Ginger frowned. "I like the characters," they mumbled. "Daring Do is cool."

Joe sighed. "So, what did you want me for?"

"Hey, dragon!" said the stallion behind the stall. "I thought I told you to buzz off!"

Ginger visibly bristled, which was very concerning when you were ten feet tall and a dragon. "Him," they said, pointing down at the stall-stallion.

Joe looked at the stallion. The stallion glowered back. "Him? What about him?"

"He won't sell me the hat."

"...Why?"

"Because he's racist."

Joe frowned. "Ginger, not everyone is racist. Maybe it's just his only–"

"'Ey you!" the stallion bellowed. "Big fella in the suit! Take your slippery, schemin' serpent friend outta here!"

"Okay, maybe he is kind of racist," said Joe.

"Told you so," said Ginger.

"Why do you want the hat, anyway?"

"Because it looks cool!"

"But like. It's maybe big enough for to use it as a thimble. Not really enough to fit on your big ol' dragon head."

Ginger crossed their arms. "Well, now who's the racist?"

Joe frowned at them. "Hey, I'll have you know that one of my best friends is a dragon."

Ginger rolled their eyes. "They won't be for much longer if you don't get them that hat."

Joe ambled towards the stall. "Fine, fine, just let me have a chat with the–" He stopped. "Oh."

Ginger turned. "What?"

"Look." Joe pointed at the stall. A mare in a safari jacket was standing there holding a brand new pith helmet and looking very pleased. "Looks like we got too distracted by the racism."

"Bugger," muttered Ginger. The stallion manning the stall looked over at them and turned up his nose as the happy customer began to wander off.

"Eh, that sucks, Ginge." Joe glanced back over his shoulder at the enormous Celestia plush in the distance. "But it's cool, we can probably get one next year if you want to come ba–" He turned back around to see Ginger stomping after the helmeted mare. "Oh. Oh. Wait, hang on–"

Ginger reached down and tapped the mare on the shoulder gently. "Hey, miss, sorry to bother you but I was just–"

The mare turned, looked up at Ginger's towering form, and shrieked.

"Hey now, that's just uncalled f–"

"Ginger!" Joe scooted between the two, desperate smile plastered on his face. "Sorry about that, miss. My friend's new to the whole Ponycon thing and they just want to–"

"Buy that hat?" Ginger said. They clasped their hands together and gave the mare a puppy dog expression, which looked sort of cute but mostly just kind of weird on a fully grown dragon. "Please? Pretty please?"

The mare blinked at them. "Oh." She hummed for a second, then giggled sort of bashfully. "I, um. Actually, I need this for my costume, I'm afraid."

"Contest?"

"The costume contest!"

Joe perked up. "Oh, you're entering too?"

"Yeah!" The mare struck a dynamic pose. "It's gonna be the biggest one yet! Apparently, first prize is gonna get that huge Princess Celestia plushie!"

Joe stared at her. "Wait." He glanced at the giant Celestia plushie again. "Wait, really?"

"Yep!" The mare's pose drooped self-consciously. "But, um. I'm really just here because I like dressing up. I guess, after the contest's over, your friend and I could have a chat about trading, maybe–"

"Yes," Ginger interrupted. "Yes, yes we could, and shall."

"O-Okay then."

"Smashing." Ginger turned away and patted their stomach. "Not gonna lie, Joe, all of that racism made me hungry. Let's go find Saffron and find something to eat."

"No can do, I'm afraid, Ginger." Joe swept a hoof through his mane. "I've got work to do."

Ginger glanced at him. "Work? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to go win that costume contest." And Joe flashed a winning smile.

"So, who is Con Mane, exactly?"

Joe didn't look up from where he was slumped dejectedly on the floor of the stage. He'd been lying there like that ever since he'd finished showing off his costume to the panel of judges.

By showing off, it was mostly explaining who, exactly, Con Mane was, and why he was dressing up as him.

He was busy debating the irony of the whole situation when a hoof poked him in the side. "What?" he snapped, looking up from the floor.

The mare in the Daring Do costume was standing next to him, looking concerned. "Oh, sorry. Tough crowd, huh?"

"Something like that," Joe muttered.

"Mm. To be honest, I kind of had the opposite problem to you. Turns out, wearing a pith helmet and a jacket and dying your hair gray is pretty easy to do, and Daring Do is actually like, really popular so, uh." The mare rubbed her head bashfully. "Yeah, not many points for originality there."

Joe grunted.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, you can watch them tear into this dude in a cat costume."

As if on cue, Joe heard a smattering polite applause and muffled laughter out in the audience. He sighed. "Yeah, sure." And stood up, peeking out onto the stage.

The panel of judges and an amused audience were staring at the single pony on the stage – a bulky, muscular-looking stallion in a very, very tight leather catsuit. He was wearing a domino mask on his grizzled face and a pair of cat ears poked out from amidst his wavey, graying hair. Behind him, the Celestia plushie loomed on its pedestal.

It was hard to see his expression with the mask on, but, from the way that Ginger was openly laughing at him from the crowd, he was probably less than pleased.

"So," said one of the judges. "You are dressed as... Who or what are you supposed to be again?"

"A cat burglar," said the cat burglar. "A very muscular cat burglar."

The judge looked him up and down. "Well, you are that, at least," she said. "But the intent of the cosplay contest is to play a specific character, sir."

"Oh," said the muscular cat burglar. "I... was in a... cartoon?"

The judge raised an eyebrow. "What cartoon?"

"You wouldn't know it," said the muscular cat burglar. "It's Prench."

The judge sighed. "Alright. Next contestant, please!"

The muscular cat burglar backed up towards the plushie pedestal behind him. "Ah. Dismissing me, are you?" He chuckled, rolling back the sleeve of his leather suit. "Then I guess there's no need for me to... HANG AROUND!" And then he pressed something on his wrist.

The audience stared at him for a long moment. Then the skylight above the hall exploded, raining glass down into the room. Several ponies screamed as a group of black-clad ponies appeared at the edge of the skylight, lassos in hand, and tossed them down towards the cackling cat burglar.

"You fools!" the stallion bellowed, as the lassos wrapped around the enormous Celestia plushie and snapped taut. "I am no mere cat burglar, for I am truly..." And with a grand gesture, he ripped the domino mask from his face, revealing a stubbled, weatherbeaten face with a set of whiskers drawn on with a marker pen. "Doctor Catballeron! Master thief, wanted dead-or-alive in fifteen nations around the globe! Witness me!"

"Huh," said the Daring Do mare, watching Catballeron leap aboard the Celestia plushie's back as it was pulled into the air towards the skylight.. "This is a pretty cool show."

Joe stared blankly at the scene for a while. Then he heard Ginger let out a fandragon-ish squeal, and he leapt into action, yanking the pith helmet from the head of the mare standing next to him. "Need to borrow this for a sec!" he said, before running out onto the stage.

Doctor Catballeron continued to cackle as he rose into the air, held aloft by four ropes each wrapped around a different part of the enormous plushie. "You fools! You foolish fools! If you had only allowed me to have the victory I so deserved, you all could have avoided such a harrowing defeat at the hands of–"

"You won't get away with this, Catballeron!" Joe slid to a stop in the middle of the stage, pith helmet hovering in his magical aura. "Not if Con Mane has anything to say about it!"

The audience gasped. Catballeron stared at Joe for a long moment. "Wait, who the heck is Con Ma–?" He was promptly cut off as the pith helmet spun past his head and sliced straight through two of the ropes holding the plushie in the air, and he yelped as he was nearly dropped to the floor as the plushie dropped out from under him. He dangled in the air, no longer rising but not falling either, the plushie dangling from just two of its legs.

The judges dove to the side as Pony Joe dove down onto the judge's table, bounced off and up into the air, grabbing hold of one of Catballeron's hind legs. "You won't get away now, villain!"

Catballeron kicked at him, shouting. "What are you doing, you fat oaf?! You're going to tear the plu–"

There was a brief, but all-too-audible riiiip sound as the stuffing began to poke out from inside the plushie's stitching. The hall fell silent for a moment.

Then the ponies below the plushie began to scream and run for cover, leaving Joe struggling to break Catballeron's muscular grip.

"What are you doing?" Catballeron whined. "You're ruining my plan!"

"It was a terrible plan!" Joe shouted. "Why did you think this would work in any way?!"

"Hey, you don't see me judging you for trying to kill the both of us!"

Joe looked at the floor far below them. "Oh." Then he noticed Ginger was still sitting in the middle of the hall, staring up, starry-eyed. "Wait. Ginger!"

Ginger didn't reply. They just continued to stare, mumbling something about "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod it's caballeron I meant catballeron he's so cool he's the cooles–"

"GINGER!"

Ginger blinked. "...Joe? What? What are you doing?"

"Catch!" And then, reaching for the softest part of Catballeron's muscular form, he pinched him on the flank.

Saffron looked at the clock, and tried to avoid noticing all the dancing couples side-eying her as she waited. The gala had started a few minutes ago, and still Joe was nowhere to be seen.

She sighed, and hid her face in the convention pamphlet. According to the schedule, the cosplay contest should have finished up nearly half an hour ago. Did Joe go home? Did he lose the contest and get sad? Saffron had, all told, been too polite to tell him that no-one knew who Con Mane was. He had been very cute in his little suit.

A hoof tapped her on the shoulder, and Saffron looked over distractedly. Yes, a suit that looked just like that one that stallion is wearing, actually–

Oh.

"Saffron?" said Joe.

"Joe!" said Saffron, jumping up and hugging him. "Gosh, I had been so very worried. I did not think you were going to come after all!"

Joe laughed. "Yeah, no, sorry about that. Ginger and I got caught up in some stuff on the way over from the contest hall and I–"

"Joe!" Saffron gasped, brushing his ruffled mane aside. "Where did you get this bruise? Did you fall?"

"Uh." Joe winced. "Something like that."

"You are a very silly pony," Saffron said, shaking her head.

"Never mind me, though. 'Cause, wow." Joe stepped back and looked Saffron up and down, starstruck. "Is this your gala dress?"

Saffron looked down, slightly bashfully, at the simple, colourful dress she wore, and the jewellery around her wrists and neck. "Oh, yes. It is a silly old thing. Not nearly so beautiful as everypony else's dresses, though."

"Don't be silly. You look great." Joe took her hoof in his own, and gave her a winning smile. "In fact, I'm wondering if you would like a dance?"

Saffron giggled. "Well, somepony is feeling confident. Did you do well in the contest?"

"You could say that." Joe winked. "In fact, you could say that I was quite the catch."

Love that Iry's Chat Noir cosplay got worked in. "You wouldn't know it, It's Prench,"

Also, "Witness me!"

*facehoof*

Nice pun. Can’t believe I fell for it. Really tied the whole story up in a neat line. I’d really like to hang around but I have another story in this contest to rip into.

This was a great read. Loved the Chat Noir reference and was well told. ^.^

I'm ashamed that I had to read the comments to get the Chat Noir reference. It was done so well too, no excuse.
Wonderful storytelling.

You foolish fools!

This has a lot of great lines in it! Love it!

I have a lot of respect for a clean story that can make me laugh, and this did it several times over. Saffron was also a great touch in this enjoyable read, and I loved the twist involving our hero protagonist. Thanks for writing!