As the sun started to set upon the quiet town of Salt Lick City, a disguised changeling by the name of Switch was making his way home. He was rather tired from a long day of work and couldn't wait to get relax at home in his own chitin, maybe even having a have a nice relaxing bath and a good book, before turning in for the night.
Lost in thought, he didn't realize he took a wrong turn in his usual route. He turned down what he thought was a small alleyway just before his apartment, but it was actually one of the small cart waystations that were dotted throughout the city. The station itself was closed for the night, but the newly installed automated cart wash was available twenty-four/seven. His tired occupied mind, attributing the sudden shade to a tree as he walked into the wash bay.
Then, as he reached the center of the wash, a strange series of unfortunate events occurred simultaneously.
He slipped causing a quill he had tucked behind his ear earlier that day to shoot off with an unprecedented speed, carried by a gust of wind of a pair of passing pegasi, jammed itself into the inner-workings of the wash. Causing some wires to become crossed and activating the testing routine of the wash. While a rogue hoofball slammed against the start button on the outside of the wash. Which was put their to stop something like this from happening, as Switch suddenly found himself in a very precarious situation.
Picking himself off the floor, he didn't realize what had happened until a overly chipper voice called out from the speaker system, "Starting Wash, thank you for choosing WashCo."
His eyes shrank as he heard the wash activating around him. He tried to make a break for the exit, but he barely made it two steps before he was halted by a purple levitation field. Stopping him in his tracks and brought him back to the center of the wash. He tried to struggle, but the field froze all his movements. Leaving him to daggle a hoof off the floor of the bay, as a flash of green fire revealed his true form.
Looking down, his panic rose as he discovered the wash had not only taken him hostage, it also stripped him of his disguise. Probably to prevent an enchantment from disrupting the field or mechanisms , he thought morosely.
His train of thought was interrupted by a high-pressure blast of water and a prewash solution slamming into him from all sides. The cold water and chemicals sending a shock through his system, luckily the panning sprays didn't last long and turned off after only a few passes. Blinking his eyes to clear them he was distracted by a blinking light off to the side, drawing his attention. It was a board of the treatments the wash had in store, and reading the sign he couldn't help but chuckle at the bug blaster pre-soak, and briefly wondered if it'd ever dealt with a bug of his size before. His eyes wondered down the rest of the sign letting out an involuntary whimper at everything the wash had in store for him.
Any further contemplation at his fate was quickly derailed as the nozzles hosed him down with a heavy, pink foam that smelled of cotton candy. Maybe cherries? It wasn't long before his limited sight was reduced even further, as he was consumed by the pink menace. Even his hearing was taken from his as the soft popping of the foam filled his fins, taking away the last of his senses.
The silence of the Pink was broken by a dozen disc brushes assaulting him on all sides. The scrubbing frenzy slowly roamed over every part of his immobile body, from the tips of his fins to the bottom of his frogs, nothing escaped the flurry of the brushes. He squirmed in the telekinetic hold of the wash, but the only thing that accomplished was the extension of the scrub to ensure the cleanliness of the cart.
There was a brief respite from the brushes as they retracted to allow a conditioning wax to cover him in shades of green and blue. The brushes began to attack with a fervor once more his vision nothing but a swirling mass of green, blue, and pink as the polish was scrubbed deep into his shell.
He hoped and prayed to the Queen that no-ling would ever find out about this embarrassing situation he had found himself in.
The scrubbers continued their ticklish onslaught for a few more minutes before finally retreating back into their spots along the wall. A silent cheer from the changeling was silenced as he was hosed down with more high-pressure water cannons. The rinse almost drowning him with how long they took to remove any traces of the soap and wax.
Finally, the water shut off and he breathed a sigh of relief as the drying cycle started up to a roar. Buffeting him on all sides with the heated winds, quickly wicking away the water from his shell.
He hoped that this would be the end of the wash, but this was dashed as two large spongy pads started two rub him down with a strange cool liquid that left his carapace sleek and shiny wherever it was spread. A stray drop of water dripped from a nozzle overhead and landed on a patch of the treated chitin. The water beading off, not even leaving behind a trail in its wake.
Is this some sort of waterproofing coating, he pondered.
The strange coating was slowly spread to all parts of his body, the strange cooling effect as it cured sent shivers down his spine. The sponges retracted from him, before moving back to where they started and applied another coat, and another, and another. In the end, the coating was applied over a dozen times, the thin layer clearly visible if you saw it at the right angle. The state of his carapace caused him to blush, as he looked like his was dripping wet with his dark glossy chitin. Dashing his hope that noling would learn about this. He would've face-hoofed at that, but he was still caught up in the machinations of the wash.
He soon found out why as several needle-like streams of wax crisscrossed his body, giving him a checkerboard pattern that was quickly ruined by a half-dozen buffers. As they started to give his already glossy shell a workover, each one making a slow but steady pace across his carapace. The friction they created causing his chitin and the wax to heat up, making the wax slightly runny as it flowed and was forced into any defect in his shell no matter how small. The whole process was the most enjoyable of them for the purring changeling, as the heat and intense rubbing felt like a deep tissue massage as they worked him over several times giving his shell a few more protective coats.
After the last of the wax had been buffed off, the arms retreated and he was gently lowered to the floor. His hooves were firmly planted on the ground before the field turned off, leaving Switch under his own power once again. And with this new-found freedom, his first decision was to collapse onto the ground in exhaustion as the intensity of the wash drained the little energy he had left. He looked to his hoof, once more disguised as his earth pony counterpart, the only thing that hinted at what he went through, being a perfectly polished hoof.
