Better Than Usukicon

     The Polka Dot JubJub was, in fact, not listening. Her VIP attendee badge swung wildly across her chest as she excitedly pointed out the various cosplayers joining the ever-increasing entry line. “That Alien Usuki outfit is stunning. The makeup is spot on! Same thing with that Clown Usuki look, oh wow. I wish I could do that,” she said wistfully, straightening the Usukicon Souvenir Bow in her hair and adjusting her Usuki Doll Fur. “Maybe next year.”

     “You look great!” Spinoru dutifully patted his friend’s shoulder. “Now, the plan.”

     Amalisen grinned and partially listened as her fellow Usuki enthusiast rattled off a list of recommendations. She let her mind wander just a tad as she continued to appreciate the creative costumes around her.

     “...then we have to go to our top priority booths for the convention exclusive merch because it will sell out quickly! No need to waste time in concession lines because I packed snacks - Usuki Crispy Rice Treats of course…”

     Amalisen tuned back in and gently snatched the notepad out of the Lutari’s paw. “We don’t need this - you’ve memorised the plan of attack, I’m sure. Also, don’t worry so much, Spin! We’re always early enough that the exclusive merch is never sold out. Hey, maybe they’ll have a Usuki-themed notepad for you to replace this old Meowclops one, huh?”

     Spin opened his mouth to respond (and defend his beloved worn notepad), but a loud wail cut through the soft thrum of chatter of convention attendees.

     “My boxes! Someone has stolen my boxes!”

     A harried-looking Red Usul clutched at her head as she frantically scanned the line. The exhibitor’s wild eyes darted from face to face, and she openly searched for the culprit.

     Spin took a hesitant step forward and helplessly shrugged. “Um, miss - that doesn’t sound like this crowd. Usuki collectors are respectful enthusiasts who look forward to coming together and showcasing our collections and buying merch; we wouldn’t -”

     The Usul crossed her arms and let out an exasperated sigh. “Save me the speech, kid,” she grumbled. “I was unloading at the loading dock on the corner, and I turned my back for one second to grab the last box, and when I turned around, the rest of my inventory was gone! I had something REALLY special for this year too - only 100 unique pieces…”

     She bit her lower lip and started muttering about insurance coverage and lost profits.

     “We can help!” Amalisen blurted out, ignoring the panicked and accusatory gaze of her friend. “I bet we can find the thief. This will be better than Usukicon.”

     Spin pulled her to the side with an impatient tug. “No, we can’t! And no, it won’t be!”

     The two proceeded to bicker about losing their place in line and missing the convention. Spinoru’s primary argument was that they had no investigation-related qualifications, and Amalisen’s was that helping was always the most important thing.

     Eventually, she waved a copy of the floor map in Spin’s face. “This will sway you. You’ve circled booth 20 as your top priority booth. And look!” She pointed towards the distressed Usul’s exhibitor badge. There was a bold, red number 20 in the dead centre. “Her booth was the one you were most excited to see. You can’t purchase your precious merch if it’s gone missing, now can you?”

     The Lutari let out a reluctant groan, mumbling about how of course the stationery booth was the one impacted.

     “Fine,” he muttered half heartedly. “It’s the right thing to do.”

     “That’s the spirit!” Amalisen cheered as she pulled the Lutari out of line, generously opting not to point out that he was likely not doing this for the right reason. “Miss exhibitor lady, we’d like to help!”

     “Liza,” the Usul supplied, clasping both of their paws in gratitude. “Thank you both SO much. I’m a solo vendor today, which must have been why I was targeted. Everyone else is here with their colleagues, but it’s just me, and I can’t believe this happened!”

     She plopped onto the sidewalk in defeat and buried her face in her hands in utter defeat.

     Amalisen flopped onto the ground next to her and murmured quiet words of encouragement.

     Spinoru, on the other hand, pulled out his notepad (yet again) and his favourite Usukicon Y6 Pen. “Let’s begin.” He proceeded to ask a series of questions with Amalisen chiming in with curious follow-ups. “And finally, describe the moment you turned around again.”

     Liza nodded and closed her eyes. “I turned around to stack my last box - there should have been five total. And when I turned around, there was nothing there! Except for a collar. I picked it up, actually.” She rummaged through her purse before pulling out a small purple neckpiece. “I was so upset earlier that I forgot to mention it.”

     The two friends traded suspect names back and forth, naming local high-profile thieves.

     “Could be the pant devil!”

     “No, I think he’s one of the convention sponsors…”

     Eventually, the JubJub snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! Spin, remember that time we attended the Chocolate Ball?”

     The Lutari’s eyes brightened with understanding. “Purrow and Meesha - the Aisha Thieves! That must be an Aisha collar without the A charm. Last year they stole from the annual chocolate ball. That’s their bread and butter, really - the major local events. The events are so crowded it’s easy for them to pull off big thefts!”

     Liza urgently hopped to her feet and asked for their location.

     Amalisen and Spinoru exchanged rueful glances before Amalisen hesitantly cleared her throat. “Um, unfortunately their hideout is rumoured to be the Neopian Central sewers.”

     Within minutes, the trio had slipped into a nearby sewage grate and were navigating underground. Spinoru had slid a jacket on top of his “I love Usukicon Shirt” to protect it, and Amalisen had similarly ditched the bow and doll fur.

     The Lutari was secretly nervous about the fact that they had not summoned the Defenders of Neopia or even Matt the Sewage Surfer Wocky might be helpful in this scenario, but Liza had asserted no backup.

     “It’s unnecessary,” she insisted. “They seem like silly kids. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

     It did not take long for the group to arrive at the hideout. When they stepped inside the dingy, dimly lit room, the Aisha Thieves had the decency to look ashamed.

     Liza gave the siblings a stern look as she held up the purple collar. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

     “Aw, Meesha, not again! We’ve talked about not leaving evidence behind.” Purrow sighed as he reached for the stack of boxes and pushed them in Liza’s direction. “Here you can take this back; we don’t even want this.”

     “We got the booths mixed up,” Meesha explained sulkily. “We wanted to steal from booth 02 - the table with all the Usuki-themed desserts!”

     After a long lecture (and a few halfhearted threats), Liza was finally ready to leave. “Let’s get out of here! If we make it back to the con now, we’ll only be a couple hours late!”

     The entire journey back to above ground, the Usul profusely thanked Spinoru and Amalisen. They grinned, shyly shrugged her off, and offered to help set up her booth.

     “As a thank you, I want you guys to have a little something!”

     Liza put together a gift bag comprised of all her merch but additionally handed them a small box each.

     Spinoru carefully opened it to reveal a delicate purple fountain pen with hand-painted usukis dotting the barrel. Amalisen admired her own pen, similar but still distinct.

     “Each one is unique,” the Usul explained. “And numbered! You two have numbers one and two of one hundred.”

     “See, Spin, we got our exclusive merch after all!” Amalisen beamed.

     “And it’s WAY better than a notepad too,” Spinoru said with a smile.

     The End.