Mimic mafia

Velvet’s hooves gripped the cart’s reins tightly, her heart pounding as she steered through the narrow, winding streets of the city. The cold night air seemed to press in on her, each passing shadow threatening to conceal another one of the mafia’s goons. They were everywhere, watching her every move. But Velvet knew she couldn’t stop. She had no choice.

She needed to find her father. Or what was left of him.

Is he really dead? The question had been eating at her for weeks now. Her father's mafia—her mafia, if she could somehow take control—was in disarray. After an ambush that had wiped out most of his inner circle, Velvet had been forced to flee. Rumors had spread that he had been killed in the chaos, but no one had been able to confirm it. Some said he was alive, in hiding, preparing to reclaim his position. Others whispered that the leader of another mafia had taken him out, ending his reign once and for all.

Velvet didn’t know what to believe. She just knew she had to keep moving forward, no matter what.

She wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the two mimes who had appeared out of nowhere. They communicated only through exaggerated hoof gestures and the occasional dramatic movement, but they had come at the perfect moment, offering their help without a word.

It wasn’t like Velvet had a choice.

She glanced nervously at the mimes beside her. The mare’s long, lanky frame and wide eyes made her look like she belonged in some kind of circus, while the stallion beside her was broad and solid, his eyes serious behind his silent mask. They hadn’t said a word since they’d shown up. Instead, they had communicated everything through exaggerated movements, like characters in a slapstick comedy. Still, there was something oddly comforting about them. Maybe they were just the right amount of chaotic to help her survive.

“Okay,” Velvet said, breathing hard as she shot a quick glance at the alley behind her. "I’m being hunted. My father—well, I don’t know if he’s dead or not. But they’re after me. And... I need cash, fast.”

The stallion and the mare exchanged a glance, their hooves waving in complex patterns like a dance. The mare tapped her temple, clearly thinking, then mimed opening a vault with a series of elaborate gestures. Velvet furrowed her brow, not entirely following.

"Wait, are you suggesting we rob a bank?” she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

The mare nodded, her hooves miming throwing invisible money into the air, while the stallion danced around in exaggerated circles, pretending to catch the flying bills with a dramatic flourish.

Velvet blinked, not sure whether to laugh or cry. "Rob a bank? Really? That’s your big idea?”

The stallion slapped his hooves together in a quick, enthusiastic motion, clearly agreeing. The mare threw up her hooves as if to say what’s the harm? and then pointed at Velvet, miming the act of driving a cart.

Velvet's eyes widened in shock. “You want me to be the getaway driver?”

The mare shrugged, making the simplest gesture, as if saying you’re the one with the cart. The stallion added to it with a dramatic nod, his hoof tapping on his chest, as though he was absolutely certain of the plan.

Velvet’s heart was pounding, but the desperation was taking over. She couldn’t think of another way to get the cash she needed. She had no idea how long she could keep running. “Fine,” she muttered, pressing her hooves down on the reins. “Fine. But we’re doing this my way.”

The bank loomed in front of them, all glass and polished marble. Velvet had parked the cart around the corner and was trying to calm her shaking hooves. This is insane. I’ve never done anything like this before.

Inside, the mimes were already at work. Velvet had barely seen what happened—the stallion and the mare moving with such strange, fluid precision that it almost felt like some kind of bizarre, unspoken performance. She could hear muffled voices, frantic shouting, but the mimes stayed calm, completely composed, as if they were putting on a show.

A few moments later, the doors to the bank slammed open. The stallion emerged, an invisible sack thrown over his shoulder with a flourish, while the mare followed right behind him, pretending to toss invisible bags of cash into the air as though celebrating a victory.

Velvet’s stomach churned. "Are you serious? This is happening?"

The mimes jumped into the cart with ease, and Velvet barely had time to react before she was hit with the full realization of what she’d just agreed to. "I’m going to jail," she muttered, stomping on the gas pedal and racing down the alley.

Behind her, she could hear the chaos they had left in their wake. The sound of running hooves and shouting goons grew distant as Velvet swerved the cart to avoid a large trash bin in the road. “This is insane. This is so insane.”

The mimes didn’t seem to mind. The stallion, in the back of the cart, threw a few imaginary punches into the air at nothing, while the mare waved her hooves, mocking the goons that had been chasing them. The mimes were like a whirlwind of action, constantly moving, even as they sped away from the scene of the crime.

Velvet’s heart was still racing, and her mind spun with the absurdity of it all. “What did I just get myself into?”

The chase was on. Velvet whipped around corners and down streets, trying to shake the goons off her tail. But no matter what she did, they kept coming. Velvet's hooves clutched the reins so tightly they were starting to cramp.

And then... a sudden calmness. Velvet turned her head and saw the mimes gesturing wildly as they pretended to throw objects and knock down invisible enemies in their path. Every goon who tried to grab onto the cart was thrown aside with impossible precision, as if they were being hit by an unseen force.

How are they doing this? Velvet’s mind raced. She had no idea how they could move so fast, so effortlessly. They were like... like ghosts.

She tried to focus, but the adrenaline was making everything blur together. Her eyes darted between the rearview mirror and the road ahead, watching as the mafia goons were tossed aside like rag dolls.

When they finally reached a hidden parking garage, Velvet slammed the cart to a halt, her heart still racing. The mimes jumped out, their silent expressions full of silent celebration. Velvet exhaled deeply, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe.

The mare gave Velvet a grin, tapping the glove compartment. Velvet stared at it, confused. "What now?”

The mare mimed opening the glove box and tapping it as if to say, Check it.

Hesitantly, Velvet opened it, and to her complete shock, a large stack of bills sat neatly inside. She stared at it for a long moment, dumbfounded.

“How...?” Velvet blinked, her brain struggling to process what had just happened.

The stallion gave her an exaggerated shrug, as if to say magic, duh.

Velvet slowly closed the glove box and shook her head. “You... you actually made the money?”

The mare nodded with a huge smile, making an exaggerated thumbs up motion.

Velvet let out a short laugh, rubbing her temples. “This is insane. Completely insane.”

The stallion threw a dramatic punch in the air, and Velvet couldn’t help but smirk. "Fine. Fine. You’re insane, but it’s a start. I’ll take it."

The mare tapped her hooves together, as if to say you did great.

Velvet nodded, her resolve growing. "But we’re doing things my way next time. I need to find out what happened to my father, and I don’t care what I have to do to get answers."

The mimes exchanged a silent glance before nodding in agreement.