Lemon ran for a good few blocks, never getting her sights off the speeding car. She began to pant in exhaustion and stress. I seriously don't see why dogs like this!

She continued like for a few more minutes, before the car and its driver reached its destination.

Sugarcube Corner was abundant with activity as the car turned into the street next to it. A line stretching a few feet beyond was in place, with customers waiting eagerly for tasty treats and sweets.

Lemon stopped running as soon as her hand rested on the back bumper of the car. She watched, her lungs heaving, as the sweater-neck driver of the car walked past the line, his chin up high, and opened the front door of the Corner, walking in, leaving some of those waiting in distress and anger and the others in confusion or sadness.

That action seemed kind of rude in Lemon's eyes. Unfortunately, I have to follow him! Gotta get the phones back!

She passed the people in line, apologizing as she did. She was met with weirded-out looks. Lemon became confused, and continued.

Lemon opened the door to the Corner. Everywhere, there were people, talking, being happy, and having sweets. The short, plump, and blue-skinned Mrs. Cake and the tall, thin, and orange Mr. Cake were not even hurrying to keep the line short, as they continued to make delicious desserts for their customers, baking and frosting them with delicacy and carefulness to create good quality goodies.

Lemon took a step inside, and already she was met with the same disgusted looks as the ones inside. Lemon thought for a moment on why. Then, with realization hitting her, she looked down at her beach getup from a while ago, and immediately blushed, covering herself with her arms . Thoughts of those going-to-school-naked dreams came to Lemon's mind as she started curling up as much as possible in embarrassment.

Then, Lemon gasped, and got an idea. She grabbed a silk table cover from a nearby surprised couple, and swished it around herself. As the cover calmed, the patrons of the Corner dropped their mouths at the now beguiling sight of Lemon. The red and orange striped cover had spinned around her, turning it into a fine red and orange striped fancy dress, with a red silk rose resting in Lemon's hair, turning Lemon not only into a customer of the Corner, but a sensation of the Corner.

Lemon looked at the faces of the patrons again, and smiled with glee. Thank you, Rarity and Sunny, for teaching me that trick!

She glanced around, and saw the driver of the car she had chased to this location, the only face to not show surprise at Lemon. Rather, he, with crossed arms, turned away, his chin still up and his lips in a pout.

Lemon sat across from him. She noticed a white cat in the man's lap.

The driver looked at Lemon with a frown. "Ah, I've been expecting you," he said, petting his cat on his lap, "given you followed me here quite a distance. I am Mister Jet Set. And you are?"

Lemon, surprisingly rather afraid of Jet's demeaning, criticizing look, put on her best serious face, and looked directly into his eyes. "The name is Zest." She squinted. "Lemon Zest." She noticed a sort of British accent as she said that, but pushed that thought aside.

She waved to the Cakes, who had been watching them to that point, and said, "Milkshake, please. Shaken, not stirred."

Within a moment, a waiter, with a beard, brown hair, and a waiter's suit as handsome as that of maybe a young Sean Connery, was at their table, with a vanilla milkshake with a cherry on top on a silver platter.

Lemon grabbed the shake, and began to sip it, still squinting. "You have something that belongs to me."

Jet, looking back still frowning for just a moment, then smiled, and chuckled. He put his hand into his handbag, and pulled it out back, holding, to Lemon's shock and elation, her pink headphones. "So, you are the proud owner of these." Jet put the phones on his neck, snapping to the beat they played. "Yes, Trender did say he didn't really have a taste in music, and he didn't have the slightest idea who they belonged to, except for maybe the bird. That bumbling idiot." He chuckled again. "He may have an eye for fashion, but when it comes to common sense, he is merely blind."

"Hey, be nice." Lemon's cheeks went slightly red as she said that. "The dude seems like a good man." She held her hand out to Jet. "Now, give them back, please."

"Oh, but why should I?" Jet patted the phones with his hands. "They seem like quality technology. And you did lose them, and I find them. Therefore, oh what is it they say nowadays? Oh, that's right." Jet pulled his face closer to Lemon's until it was in inch away, a devious smile on it. "Finder keepers, loser weepers." He then laughed, still holding Lemon's precious phones and petting his cat, who too chuckled with her master.

Lemon winced and snarled. "Well, there's another thing they say: Those who take lost things-" Without another word, a slash flashed across Jet's face, which left him confused until half of his milkshake fell to the floor-"lose their face."

In a flash, Lemon reached for her phones, but, in another flash, Jet jumped up off his seat, and landed on the floor.

He smiled, straightening his hair, and laughing maniacally. "Pardon me, but I am not familiar with that phrase."

He then grabbed a nearby senior's bowler hat, and threw it with great speed at Lemon. Lemon ducked out of her seat in time, and rose back up to find a dramatic dent in the seat where the hat hit it.

Jet, frowning in shock, then dove his hand into the senior's mouth, grabbing his metal-filled teeth, and then jumped to the corner. With the teeth, he chewed off the supporting wires to the light fixture hanging above Lemon.

Lemon only had a half-second to dive away from the impact. She breathed a sigh of relief, and looked back at the senior.

"Sorry," he said, "Had a looooooot of sweets in my time!"

Lemon stood back up, only to be pelted by icing as Jet had ducked behind the sweets counter, and grabbed a few icing packs from Mr. and Mrs. Cake, who cuddled in the corner, with Mr. Cake sucking his thumb a thousand times a second.

Boy, I've had tough situations before, but this guy takes the cake! Lemon threw down a table, and ducked for cover behind it.

Lemon then crawled away, hiding from Jet's sight, until she managed to get behind him.

Then, Jet saw with great shock behind him as Lemon groped him, sending him to the ground.

The phones flew off Jet's neck, and flew a great distance, until, to Lemon's surprise and annoyance, it flew out the door, and landed in the trashcan nearby.

Lemon then saw to her horror that the dumptruck, as per his schedule, had just arrived to gather the trash for the week.

She dashed towards the front, only to be tripped back down to the floor. She looked behind her to se Jet Set, also on the floor and holding Lemon's dress by the edge.

Jet Set then began to laugh maniacally once more. "If I can't have it, no one can!"

He then laughed a moment more, before he was interrupted by a whack to the head, leaving him unconscious and with a large bump on his head.

Lemon looked up to his attacker, and found the waiter from before, this time with a baking pan.

"Go for it, girl," he said to her, in a gruff, yet handsomely rugged British kind of voice. He then winked, which made Lemon smile.

Then, without another word, she got back up, and dashed out to rounds of applause from the audience of the intense fight that just ensued, and ran in the direction of the truck.

Mr. and Mrs. Cake got back up, the mister getting his thumb out from his mouth and asking the waiter, "uh, who exactly are you?"

The waiter answered, in a regular New York accent, "Oh, just a regular Joe."