You’ve probably all been wondering where I disappeared to.

The fact is, I’m moving across the country. Again. Yes, that is actually true and not a Lemony Snicketish unalienation device. No, I won’t tell you why. Which probably is a Lemony Snicketish unalienation device.

The blog will return, and hopefully soon enough that the interim cannot legitimately be called a hiatus. Call it a hiatusette.

I guess I must have seen enough of people to get together a pretty nice theory on animal nature. The sort of theory they write books about, and then thin guys in tight black shirts pretend they’ve read ‘em. If I ever wrote one of those, right, like I’ve got the time for that? it’d start off with just a nice long list of all the stupid things that happen and the the stupid things that people do to make em worse.

As Socrates’d say, like this one.

Dis is a flat owt disrace, I tell ya whut! Huh. Never would have guess Max had a thing for classic cars.

“Well, when you’ve got a little insight into who disgraced it, lemme know.”

Hey, dat’s yer job, Sly.

“And I was under the impression that it was your job to assist with that whole deal? Pretty sure that’s what an assistant does.”

Feh! He shoots a glance at the two suspects, which I’m pretty sure is the first time he’s even looked at them. Waaaaaaahhhhhllll- dere’s a feathah here, so I guess dat means it wuz da boid.

“That thing’s a feather?”

I tink.

“Looks more like a banana peel.”

Well you know whut dey say. Feathahs don’t never look like feathahs.

“Max?”

Yeah?

“Nobody has ever said that, ever.”

He stomps off to sulk. Fine den, you solve da case!

I always do. “It’s only gonna take a couple minutes, too!” And exactly one minute and fifty-nine seconds later I’ve found the slime all over the steering wheel. Which means that unless a lot more eagles than I thought work in the vaseline business, “that whoever drove this thing last was all kinda of slimy.”

I admit it! wails the toad But I can’t help it! I love motor cars! I just wanted to take it for a little drive! But i couldn’t steer right and… he dissolves in tears. Amphibians.

“Well, I wish they were all that easy,” I remark as they lead him off in special slip-proof cuffs, “Hope you weren’t bothered, birdo.”

The execution of justice is never a bother to any honest citizen.

“Oh,” I take my hand off him a bit too fast. “Well, I’ll let you know when I see one, then.”

“These, ahem, ‘gold coins’ of yours tend to get stolen an awful lot, seems to me.”

Yes, quite, well, this time I’m not lying, you know!

“I guess that’s the best I’m gonna get. Well, don’t worry. I smell bubble gum, and I know you’d rather stick your foot in a blender than indulge in such a prole treat.”

I say, what is this chewing gum, wot?

“Exactly. And I do know somebody who would be gnawing on a big old hunk of rubber while they were cracking a safe. Lucky for us, she’s not the smartest, so she probably just stuck the blob of gum under a table, where it’s just a matter of finding it and running a few DNA tests to prove it was her. So stay right there, touching the gum without gloves or even breathing on it heavily makes the evidence worthless-”

Yechk! I gawt it all ovah mah foot!

Oh bolloks.

“Never mind.”

I snap on the lights in the interrogation room, and he squints his beady little eyes at me across the desk. “Alright, Shady. Let’s try this again. What were you doin in the park this afternoon?”

Awh, none a’ yer business, coppah!

“Oh, yeah, right, cause sayin that isn’t gonna make me med enough to lock you up and make up the worst charges I can get a judge to buy!”

Screw yoo!

The headache I’m gonna have later tonight is RSVPing somewhere inside my temples. I shake it off. “Let me see if I can jog your memory. You stole a bag of peanuts from an elephant this afternoon.”

S’what f’I did!

“Watch the apostrophes, mister. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Naw, jes yers!

“You then claimed that the peanuts in question had not been stolen, that you’d bought them yourself.”

An dat makes yoo a supreshunator o’ da peaple, don’t it?

“Maybe if you weren’t out your scrawny little butt. Or do you always eat the shells when you have peanuts?” He just glares. Maybe I’m finally getting somewhere. “So whatever you were doin, it wasn’t what you said it was. And now’s the time when you really want to start tellin me what it really was.”

Bite me!

“Which worked so well the last fifty times you said it.” The headache is ringing the doorbell. It’s early. “It’s not like you’d be telling me anything I didn’t already know. I know you stole those peanuts. We got witnesses. We got fingerprints–yours and the victim’s. We got menus from every two-bit pretzel cart, hot dog stand, lemonade truck, and guy with a cooler strapped to a rusty bicycle that’ll sell you a chunk of freezer-burned watermelon. There was nobody selling peanuts in the park. So where’d you get those?”

F’yer so smart, whatchu need me fer?

“Cause none of that tells us why you weren’t eatin the peanuts.” He just stares. He doesn’t look angry anymore. He’s looking scared. I lean forward slowly, blocking the light. “I mean, yeah, that you weren’t eatin em proves you were lying. But it doesn’t answer anything. Even if you stole em, there’s no reason to just sit there with the things on your lap, right?”

Uh… right. Yeah!

“So, ya got yourself a couple options.” The headache’s moving right on in now, but I can’t feel it. “Either you can give me somethin that looks a little less guilty, or I’m gonna go ahead and do some deduction.” He doesn’t understand. I think he might be getting a little cocky again. Idiot, how explicit do I have to make this? “Like from the can of weedkiller you had in your pocket.”

The worst part is he can’t think of anything to make this look like anything but what it is. I can see it in his eyes.

I sit back down on my side of the table. There’s the headache, finally. “Why, Shady? Seriously. Some kinda elephant vs. mice thing? You were always small potatoes. This is serious shit you’re in now. What was it for?”

I confess dat I want my lawyer.

“If that’s the way you want this to work. We get all that?” I ask the two-way mirror.

I don’t wait for an answer, and I snap off the lights on my way out.

The room is unnaturally still. It smells like a lot of things: sawdust, stale oil, humidity, spoiled carnival food, against-rules cigarettes, and just enough incense so you can tell they tried to cover up all the other stuff, but not very hard. It’s hot and stuffy and I wish I could leave.

I can’t. Because I just picked up another smell.

He’s here.

Ahhh, you wish your fortune told, yes?

I… I don’t… I’m not sure… I got a message, I mean… yes, I suppose so.

Ok, this next bit is going to be tricky. I’ll have a few seconds before he catches on, IF I time this right. If I don’t… best case scenario is I’m out of a job, worst case scenario my extended family finally finds out that I really did mean it when I said I wasn’t ever gonna see them again.

It is a thing one must be sure of. Come, cross my palm with silver!

There’s a long pause, but he sits down. The entire situation must just be itching, but he hasn’t got a clue whether to try to scratch, or run. It’s always these Chessmaster types that don’t know what to do when the shoe is on the other foot.

Careful. Don’t get foxy, detective.

That was a joke.

I want to know about this.

Hmm… This? Tell me more about… this…

…It’s a pizza box. The top of a pizza box. It… says that you’ve got answers for me?

Myes… Madame Carmalita has all the answers, but I must know more… who gave you this message?

That’s right. Play him, get him busy looking at you. I know you can.

There is a- person. He’s been trying to get around me for quite a while. And I was winning, too, until he just vanished. I haven’t been able to find a trace of him anywhere for weeks. And then just the other day, someone left this pizza box outside my front door.

Hmmm, yes. Let Carmelita see… ‘Let’s Settle This,’ and then it has my address! How melodramatic!

Everyone’s a critic.

You don’t seem surprised.

She grins. I am a fortune teller.

Or you’re in on this. Why else would he tell me to come to you?

She just grins again. I’m hoping he can’t see the ‘Hurry Up And Do Something I Can’t Stall Him Forever’ she pasted all over the grin for my benefit.

I don’t understand. If you’re in on… on the message, why don’t you tell me what it is. If you’re not, why aren’t you-

Now.

“Cause she’s just the distraction. I’ve got the message, and you’ll find it on your wrists. It’s called handcuffs.”

You- No!

“Looks like I win.”

Finally, I can take this ridiculous gettup off! Cassie gasps.

“Thought it suited you.”

You’ll never get away with this! He fumes, I’ve cut you off from the force, DETECTIVE! You’re a fugitive! You don’t have anywhere to go!

“Good. Cause nobody’s goin anywhere.” And I shove him in the trunk. “I’ll have you know I was hiding in that thing for three hours waiting for you to get the nerve to show up! So enjoy.”

Cassie is wiping off some of the extra makeup. So now what?

“Now you can tell my fortune.”

She shoots me a look like she’d rather I got back in the trunk with the skunk. I foresee you owe me a drink.

“Really? You don’t foresee a little guy with a silly hat barging in and ruining the mood?”

Ohmigawd SLY!

“S’okay, nobody can win ‘em all.”

What are ya, how didja, Why didja-

“Max calm down!”

Calm down?! Ya go missin fer weeks wit no explanation! You drive off wit her! Cassie glares at him. An you send me some kinda cryptic message written on da bottom of a pizza box!

“Well, it was what I had.”

An ya tells me ta CALM DOWN?!

“I’m glad to see you too, then. I got you a present, though. It’s in the chest.”

Watchu talkin bout - gah!

“What’s the matter? Don’t like kidnappers?”

Get me out of here right now you barbarians or so help me I’ll spray everyone!

I close the trunk. “You do that.”

But, but… this don’t make no sense! You… ran off to get dis guy? Why couldn’t you just, like, arrest him? And what was this even all about?

I hate to admit it, Foxy, but the lollipop guild has a point. Why was he even after you?

I smirk. This is the fun part. “He wasn’t.”

They both just look at me. Apparently that’s not going to be enough of an explanation.

“He wasn’t after me, he just wanted to make it look like he was so he’d have me out of the way. He worked this whole duel of intellects to get me out of the office and take my eyes off every other case. It was all a big red herring.”

So… what did he want?

“Show him what you picked up yesterday, Cass.”

And she pulls out this deep green rock from a paper bag, size of my fist. The candlelight splinters and coats the whole inside of the room with shimmering emerald light.

It was in a safe house, she explains, one of the best. In a box marked ‘to be taken to client.’

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’d tried. Most recently he tried hiring some middlemen with good reputations for getting out from under the law. But they also had reputations for double-crossing, and then I had to show up in the middle of everything, so that was no good. But it wasn’t the first time I’d thrown a wrench in his plans to get this.”

Whatta ya mean?

“Remember that dead baker?”

….whoa.

“And we assumed it was loose change in that loaf, I know! Well, that about wraps up everything, if Madame Carmel-whatever aint gonna read my palm-”

Cassie has her purse open and is making disgusted faces in her compact. The sooner I get out of all this fur dye the better. I’m going to find a bathroom.

“Then Max, take this beauty pack to evidence. The rock, I mean. See if they’ll take my picture with it.”

So how’d it go with you an–I mean, you, did ya… ya know?

Shit, I only just realized, how DID it go with me and…? Hell. What is this gonna do to me afterward? What if I have to bust her tomorrow? What if I never bust her again? What if I never SEE her again? Is there any way to go back to normal?

Max has hoisted the bag over his shoulder. Dis’s loitah den I ’spected.

“Really?” I absentmindedly take the bag. “Funny, does feel light, it’s-” Crap, look inside, quick! “-it’s a compact.”

I guess things do go back to normal.

“Nice try,” I say. She stops halfway out of the lady’s room window, sighs, and drops to the ground.

May I was just trying to keep you on your toes. Keep you honest, after your taste of the wild side.

“Uh huh. And this rock,” I stuff it in my pocket, “is magic and will give me superpowers.”

Then I’ll hope you get some better manners with em, She sniffs, then smiles a little. Thanks for bringing back my compact, Foxy. Can’t think how I forgot it.

“Well, accidents happen.”

I guess they do. She winks and turns away. See you next accident, Foxy.

Max and that dog are stuffing the trunk in the back of the squad car. Ya get her?

“I didn’t know the rock was a her,” I quip settling in behind the wheel.

Uh… Sly? While ya wuz gone, I wuz kinda… dey let me drive, nd I wuz really good, so can I mebee-

“Shut up Max.”

It’s good to be back.

“Did you get it?”

That’s polite. Weren’t you worried about me at all?

“I just wanna get back to my desk. These things are a lot harder to do when I don’t get to narrate.”

It’s right here.

“Good. You didn’t have any trouble getting into the building, did you?”

Please. I am a professional, not an amateur.

“And I’m a critic, not a diva, so what did you do?”

Just an old trick.

There’s really nothing to it. Have two stoolies make a ‘mistaken’ delivery of something large enough for you to hide in-I usually use a wardrobe or somethin-to a house where everyone’s away. Then ransack the place and climb back inside in time for your acomplices to come back to pick up the ‘mistaken’ delivery.

“And in the meantime you’ve escaped to Narnia.”

Alright, smarty-panties, if you’re so clever, how’d you get at his house? He lives in one of those ritzy gated communities, you can’t just waltz up.

“Pizza Delivery.”

What?

“I just put a pizza delivery sign on my car. The guard didn’t even look at me when he let me in.”

That’s… brilliant.

“And I don’t want to see it show up in a report someday, you got me? You’ve stolen enough from me.”

Calm down, foxy, we’re on the same side here.

‘For now,’ I think.

Hey dere Max.

Hey, Dog.

See, dat’s whut I talkin bout. Fox never did bother lernin mah name, jes call me ’sergeant” r whatev. Aint like I got a hard name t’member.

Hell, I’ll be da foist one ta admit he can a joik. But… damn man, look at dis!

Is his case files. Whatabout em?

These aint gonna wait for im ta get back frum whereveh da heck he’s vanished to! You can’t stuff em in tupperwares and shove in da back o da fridge! Someones gotta keep up on dese or he’s out of a job!

A snort. S’whut ‘f he is? Shouldn’t-a run off.

Den I’M outa a job!

Oh. Well, looks like you gon hafta pick up da slack.

Geez, I can’ do dis job! Sly’s like… he’s like… somekinda knowing about stuff guy! Mosta da time when we’re on a case I jus space out an wait fer ‘im ta point at somebody an say ‘you did it.”

Dey aint no way you can do dis? I mean… lesse here, missin person on a rabbit, dat aint gone be too hard, right?

Says you… I bin workin on dis monstah all weekend. Figgered it’d be easy, roight? Feh. There’s a nasal sigh.

You missin dat clown? Gaaaay.

Ahh, shu’up! I got woik ta do!

Long pause.

Mebee he treated me like doit, but dammit, ‘e was… I needed him, Dog. I can’t do dis coppah racket on my own, I got no freggin clue.

Dat a metaphor?

I don even know anymore! S’like I’m falling out of a plane wit no parachute, cept dis time he aint gonn, dunno, swoop by in some custom plane wit a big ol net. I’m jes fallin and it’s only a matter a time fore I hit. S’like I’m knockin on-

Knock knock knock.

…

…uh, c’min?

Max… I…

Roz, what’s wrong?

…there’s a call for Slylock… and I think, I mean, it sounds like-

Give it here!

“Hello, is this a detective Slylock Fox? Particularly brilliant? Because I think I’ve got a tip on one of his cases.”

Sly?! Ohmygawd where are you? What happened? What’s going on?

“…I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number. You seem to think I am someone named ‘Sly,’ no doubt an intelligent and very handsome individual. If detective fox is not available, perhaps I should just go-”

No wait!

“Can you perhaps connect me to his assistant? I believe his name is Mouse.”

Uh, speaking.

“What a coincidence.”

Sly, if dis is all youre idea of a joke, let me tell you it so aint funny at all, why-

“I understand that this case involves a rabbit in his teens who had snuck onto private property, presumably to swim, seeing as how his clothes were found folded up on a log near the waters edge.”

…yeah.

“And all leads have lead to precisely squat.”

Holy Aslan, Sly! Why’re we playin dis game? Why not jes come in an-

“That’s because you’ve been following the leads the wrong way. The property in question belongs to a human runt, with, lets see… a physical handicap where his knees don’t work, and he has to hop everywhere, and a real nasty inferiority complex to go with it. The assumption being that he snapped and did away with the kid somehow.”

Yeah.

“But just cause it happened on his property doesn’t mean a thing. After all, we’re talking about a lake. Anybody with a boat or a pair of water wings can swim right up. Not leave any tracks, either.”

…ya know somethin.

“Well, there is an alligator, lives down at the poor end of the lake, who’s been suspected in several illegal predatation cases. Never enough evidence to indight. Maybe this time, though.”

Wow, I… thanks, Sly.

“Why do you keep calling me that? Though it is, doubtless, the name of a very attractive and brilliant person who gets all the ladies daydreaming about him.”

Ok, den, be dat way! But… f’ya see Sly, uh, Detective Fox ‘fore I do… tell him.

“Yes?”

Tell ‘im I got tings undah control.

There’s a noise that could be a laugh or a snort. “Shut up, Max.”

He hung up… did we trace dat?!

Oh… that would have been a good idea.

Gahh…

So watcha gon do? We go’n ta find him?

Mebee later. The mouse pulls on his hat and heads for the door. Right now, doh, I got a moider ta solve.

Ah caint think what this wohld is comin to when such a shameless hussy as that runs off with the private propehty of another! I don’ dahr think what I’ll see just outside anymoh! Why, Ah was sayin to Shumuhn just across the way that I couldn’t think what the wohld is comin’ too!

“Who?”

Shumuhn!

“Say that again?”

Shumuhn, lives raiht across the way!

“Oh Sherman, I see. And was he a witness?”

To what?

“To the robbery!”

Oh no sir, he’s jes mah good neighbuh, and it’s so hahd to find a sympatheetic eahr these days! Eve’one’s only out for his own self, it makes a good soul feel so lonely!

“Oh Look A Suspect!”

I gave Max some pointless busywork on the crime scene, and locked the car doors. “Ok. Total honesty now. What’s going on?”

I was… making wishes.

“Cassie, the one angle I know you know you can’t play is Trauma Victim. Which means-”

Maybe I was looking for a rare penny with heads stamped on both sides that I somehow knew was somewhere in that jar, and- she shouts all at once.

“Something happened to you, didn’t it?”

She gulps, then nods. Brilliant deduction. There’s a long pause where the only sound is her breathing. It was a skunk. He was flashing money at the… at this club I go to, and if you don’t already know where I mean I’m not going to tell you, and he didn’t look tough or tricky or any sleezier than normal, so i figured he’d be an easy mark. Nothing spectacular. She swallows again.

“But that was what he wanted you to think.”

I woke up in that rabbit’s front yard. There was… a note. It said I had to steal a jar of pennies, wait for you to catch me, and then give you a message.

“What message?!”

‘Your Move.‘

There’s about ten seconds of silence, while we digest that one.

What are you going to do?

“You know I can’t tell you that, Cassie. You could be planning to run right back and buy your safety with that. You could be wearing a bug right now.”

Or I could be actually worried about you, you stupid insensitive- But that’d be stupid, wouldn’t it?! And nobody says Cassandra T. Cat is stupid, oh nossir!

“Cassie, I-”

I didn’t have to come here. I didn’t have to be the damsel in distress again! You think I couldn’t-a taken care of me if I skipped out? I can keep two steps ahead of some whacked-out skunk, and have a ball while I’m doing it! Easy! I didn’t have to warn you!

“Well, you didn’t have to stab me in the back all those times, either! Maybe it’ll take more than a sob-act to get around me. I’m grateful for the warning and all, but jeez, Cassie! You know I can’t trust you.”

Screw you!

Apparently that was the signal for another round of awkward silence.

“Are you gonna be alright? I could, I dunno, bust you for the night so you’ll have somewhere safe, if it aint luxurious.”

She snorts. Excuse me if I don’t fall all over myself accepting that one.

“Or I can put you in witness protection. There’s… this guy you can stay with, unless you have something against gators.”

I said I can take care of myself, and I wasn’t lying. Though I guess I can’t ever expect you to believe that.

Another silence.

“I guess… I’ll try to dig up some dirt on who this guy is.”

Oh! There is one thing. At the club… I got a look at his wallet. I saw his driver’s liscence.

“What?!”

His name’s Sherman.

“Say that again.”

What- you’ve gone white!

“Say it!”

Sherman?

So it’s my move, is it? Well, it’s gonna be a doozy. Maybe even a checkmate.

First, though, you gotta get the queen out of danger. “C’mon. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

I said-

“I know. But you also said I didn’t believe you. You were right.”

I start up the engine. “By the way, what were you wishing for?”

I was wishing I knew whether I oughta warn you, or split town and leave you to it.

“Did you get your wish”

I don’t know.

Huh. Good answer.

Wait, isn’t Max still back at the well?

“Hell.”

I sez youz gots ta eat, so youz gots ta eat!

N-no!

Mos people’s glad ta get dis stuff! Dere’s dis one Coon what deliberately gets caught stealin food so’s he can get a square meal in da holdin cell!

“Can’t you shut that racket up? I’m trying to work!”

We seem tah be havin a problem wit dis one prisoner.

I w-w-won’t eat unt-til m-my demands are m-m-met! I’m p-protesting!

“What are you protesting?”

He grins.

“Well, I can tell you right now, we’re going to have a hard time meeting your demands if we don’t know what they are.”

Keep in mind, we dealin’ with Count Weirdly here! says the sergeant ominously from over his paperwork.

“Which is why I’m mightily inclined to go back to my desk and do my best to ignore Max shouting?”

I think we need to be considerin’ that he aint exactly natural.

“Well clearly he’s put something in the water cooler, at least.”

Ya mean… he’s a ROBOT?! Max gasps.

“Yes!” I moan in a faux Vincent Price voice, “This is really an android duplicate, fashioned so cunningly that no one can detect the difference! But faced with the bodily functions of living beings, it cannot hope to counterfeit, so its flawless computerized brain decides to claim to be on a hunger strike to cover and continue to trick us that this is the real Count Weirdly!”

They look at me like I just announced that Aslan’s descending from heaven and the Rapture is upon us.

“So! What we must ask ourselves is this: is this robotic duplicate Count Weirdly minion, or his Enemy? Is the real Count even now enacting some dastardly scheme, or locked in his own dungeon, feebly calling for help, while his soulless double plots to take his place?!”

…really? breathes Max.

“No.”

They have enough time to give me dirty looks before Count Weirdly cackles Now my proud beauties! While they’re distracted! Fly! Swarm them! I look over to seem him dumping black fuzzy balls out of his hat.

Wut are they? Max asks from on top of the desk, after a long pause.

“Purple pom-poms with plastic googly eyes glued to them. Didn’t anybody think to frisk him when he was arrested?”

He Count Weirdly. Wouldju be friskin’ him?

“Point.”

Um… D-d-detective? I j-just w-want to c-c-compliment you. T-that w-was a g-g-g-g-, uh, f-first-rate spooky m-monologue! I c-couldn’t have done b-better myself, even if I had b-b-been pretending to be a r-robot!

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t take a bow,” I mutter on my way out.

Uh, c-can I have th-that meal now? I’m actually p-p-pretty hungry.

Whoever designed this hall was either a sadist or a failed trombone player. It’s long, twisty, amplifies the echoes of everything all the way along its length, and smells like old spit.

Heck, no reason it can’t be both.

Ok, I gotz dis wun. I been studjyin up on yer tekneek.

“This aint gonna end well.”

There’s a small agitated crowd gathered in front of one of the apartments: police, a frumpy rabbit broad, a heron in a Mr. Rogers tie and a doctor’s coat, and a very angry duck. Max makes a beeline for it like a beat cop to newly-instated but not-yet-posted school zone.

Ok, ok, ok. He blats in like a drunken uncle at the wrong wedding, ok. Ok. So wus all dis den?

Everyone blinks at him. Except me. I’m too busy rolling my eyes.

No, I really means it. Whut wuz da crime?

“This young lady was spotted taking gold fillings from a dentist’s office. There’s really no mystery about it, so-”

Aha! Das whut dey would have us tink! He whirls away from the suspect and advances on the witness pointing threateningly. An I just bet I kin guess yer story, huh? I bet I can. I just bet I can!

“Well?”

Oh, right, well, see, she sez dat da duck here wen inta da dentist’s office, and maybe you tought dat were jes a little percooliar. Course, she says she wuz dere to get her teef looked at, so you din tink anyting of it. But den da doc notices a diffren soit a cavity, where all da gold fillins is supposed to be! And only den does it dawn on you… DUCKS DON HAVE TEEF!

Something like that, um, officer? she mumbles.

An you! He jabs a finger at the doctor Here ya is, after havin summoned all da force a da law! But I guess it jes aint yer lucky day today, Docter-?

Reyzhon! Wow, he’s got an accent you could ferment cabbage with. Doktor Raphael Reyzhon at your service. Except from the tone of his voice, he probably meant something more like ‘at your painful death.’

An yew spect me to jes slap da cuffs on dis dame and waltz off?

Like hell! shrieks the duck. She was probably gonna go on from there, but the dentist squaks and hides behind an open door.

I- I haff a problem vith vimmen screamink.

Well, we’ll try ta keep da volume unda leven, den. Don’t worry miss, jus hold up yer arm where we can sees it, an I’ll have yer name cleared before da next commercial break’s ovah.

She’s about ready to start screaming at Max, but she holds up an arm.

Ya see? Ya SEE?

“Oh, she has arms. Well, clearly, people who have arms can’t have stolen gold fillings, so-”

No, look! Dose aint feathers, dey’re fur! She’s a Platypus! So what becomes o yer accusation dat she can’t have been there innocent-like cause don’t have teef?! He marches to the door Herr Heron is still hiding behind. Maybe dis was about shuttin up a broad what you wuz thru playin wit-

“Max…”

Maybe dis was an insurance scam-

“Max.”

Maybe dis was even some kinda complex scheme to make some dough off yer secret Nazi past, it don’t matter, I’ll find out-

“Max!”

Jeez Sly, whut? Dis is my big moment!

“Platypuses don’t have teeth either.”

…shit.

If he’s lucky, the dentist will still be too shaken to sue.