Earwig; Ace Detective.

Chewed Pencil: Sarcastically take a nap right there in front of her and ignore her for a bit while you rest.

You really do try and take a nap sarcastically. You have almost mastered all of the levels of snark required for it, and you’re a level 6 napper, but you fumble your roll when it comes to both being sarcastic and napping at the same time. Maybe it is because you don’t actually have a guest at the moment, so your attempts to sarcastically nap in front of your metaphysical non existent client have ruined your immersion in the deep levels of sarcastic napping?

You try your hand at just being sarcastic, staring at a mirror that you just noticed was on your desk, you vain thing you. You look.. scruffy. Just like a proper detective. Who actually trusts a detective who doesn’t look like he slept in an alleyway?

For the record, you didn’t sleep in an alleyway.

Keairan: Go and get a glass of water, drink it down, then see about catnapping.

Not a bad suggestion, that one.

Soraxroxas123: Sleep.

Well, looky there! A bunch of blokes right after your own heart. You stand up and walk towards the water cooler by the door. A few seconds later, you’ve downed a glass of water, and you’re back at your desk, ready to dream of a few shots of magnum sherry served with love and devotion.

Hey, a bug can dream, right? Speaking of dreaming…

You cock the brim of your hat down over your eyes, cloaking you in darkness. Surely there isn’t a good reason for you to remain awake…

the host: Stand fast. A case should present itself. A P-Eye has to have an employer after all.

Ugh…. Do you have to stay awake? Come on, clearly nobody is coming in today… There’s an hour left, and the only time someone goes to a private eye at the last moment is when they’re expecting trouble.

And you, for one, do not like trouble. Trouble is a cat that sinks its claws into your spine like it does with curtain, dragging you down with the shreds of your dignity.

The curtains are your dignity, you guess. You think you lost track of your own metaphor, there. You don’t even like cats that much. You like them more than dogs, though. You hate dogs.

the host: Hopefully her case is solid (you refuse to deal in morbid affairs)

You agree! You also hate people who turn out to be less than up and up. Especially when it comes to paying you. Money may not buy you love, but it sure does pay the bills.

And boy, do you have bills. You have bills for having bills. You have a bill from the post office for giving you the bill about the bill you have for having bills.

You have bills for having bills…

Okay okay, enough about that. Being a changeling disguised as a unicorn private detective is not half as lucrative as it sounds, and you don’t have enough dough on hand to even make toast.

That is, you’ll be toast without some bananas.

You give up on your snappy word play.

Thunderquill: You will Wait, Tonight is a night of work. Leasure can come tomorrow. Maybe consider how to handle your backup plan in case anypony begins to question your, Talents.
Maybe some Friends will be able to help.
You dont have any Friends? Thats sad... Maybe you should find some?

Hey now, that’s just rude! You have plenty of friends. They even give you advice! Saying you don’t have any friends is just rude!

Oh, A knock on the door. Let them In. See what they want. Maybe you can gain some bits for your day off tomorrow.

The door opens.

It’s the very definition of trouble. You know that cat from earlier? She’s that cat, and she’s taken the cream and snatched the canary. She’s a sinewy figure that reeks of a deal gone wrong. If you still had a shot of magnum on your desk, well, you’d be torn between pouring it out, or shooting yourself.

She skulks inside like something out of a bad movie; the monster, of course, seducing the young, polluting the minds of the innocent. She’s the discord of the town, and she’s here to see you.

What do you do?!