Fink I hoid da cheif say dat one a couple times, yeah.

“Well, did it ever occur to you to wonder weather the relationship was not simple, but rather inversely proportional?”

Duz inverse mean dat we shood be callin vice squad?

“No. I mean, does the amount of shit that there is determine how old you have to be to be too old for this shit?”

I wouldn’ know.

“No, I didn’t think you would. The point is, I think I’ve discovered the exact quantity required, relative to my age.”

Brad Wolf is reading "Not Wearing Any Shirts For Dummies."

Yew gon’ arrest dis heah maniac or’re yew gonna sit dere talkin bout shit all day?

“I’m still on the fence on that one, Ma’am. Why don’t you run the scenario by me again, help me make up my mind.”

Dis heah dirty wuff done trampled daown mah flowah bed! He sez he bin readin all day but dat aint nuttin but a pile o corn crabs in a undercroft!

“Which I’m sure means something.”

Shewt, y’all, I jes bin sittin in da shade readin a lovely bit a litrachure-

See?! See?! He caint have been sittin in da shade all day cuz da shade aint bin dere all day has it and dat PROVES he done trampled mah flowahs!

Shewt, Jessie-bell, dis is abowt mah standin yew up at da cotillion ball tah go down to the fishin hole?

Ah had to walk across dat floor all alone in fron a dah eyes o mah neighbors!

Maybe if all yers neighbors were’n all so high an moighty as da queen of sheba yer beau would’n be so dead set gainst goin to a dance wif em!

“Well, I’m off the fence. You two have a nice day.”

So Sly, how does dat amount of shit rate accordin to yer age?

“Not sure yet. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of opportunity for further observations.”

How old is youze, anyways?

“Shut up Max.”

Nawt again. I’ll get da coffee.

“Not this time. This time, we’re going to him.”

…yer making me go ta Nigeria.

“As hilarious as that would be, no.”

The shading on the castle doorway is exquisite.

“See, in today’s increasingly net-savvy population, the intelligent email scammer has to diversify and target market segments effectively.”

Dis is Count Weirdly’s house?

“Yes, he represents the valuable ‘will believe absolutely anything’ segment.”

Yes, the monkey is shouting as we edge toward the door, you are a genius ans it’s working! Uh. Explain to me again how it works!

W-w-well, I run a alternating c-c-current ac-cross the surface of the g-glass, which d-destabilizes your p-position in space-t-t-time and allows you t-to t-teleport to-

Yes, teleport, yes, because that happened, indeed, it was only for a split second but I definitely was in some… other place… somewhere?

I h-had the m-m-machine set to s-s-s-sixty f-four feet that time.

Which is why I saw… outside the castle? And I definitely saw it and am not making it up because why on earth would I do that?

I d-don’t know?

I don’t either! You’re a genius!

L-let’s try one h-hundred t-t-twenty eight!

Say, have you thought about marketing this brilliant technology why Id be more than willing to help I’m a marketing genius and all I’d need would be a small initial investment to-

Oh, n-no, this isn’t for selling, th-this is for my f-f-fleet of d-death z-zeppilins!

What.

“I think that’s all I need to hear.” Besides, that’s a dramatically perfect opportunity for an entrance.

C-curses! You’re too l-l-late to stop me, d-detective, I’ve already perfected my-

“I’m not here for you, Dr. Sivana. I’m arresting the guy who was trying to email-scam you out of whatever you’ve got in your bank account. So… dead snails, I guess?”

Wait, s-scam? What are you t-t-talking about? He answered my online ad for a t-test subject, and he…. ooooooh.

“Yeah, so I’m gonna arrest him now. And trust me,” I stop the perp before he says anything stupid, “There’s nothing in jail that’s worse than what you’ll get if this nut tries to enact one of his vengeance schemes.”

He blinks at me, then Count Weirdly, then back at me. I’m hoping I don’t have to point out that he’s currently hooked up to live electric current. Uh, I’ll come quietly.

“Splendid.”

But Sly, Max says after he’s slapped on the cuffs, Count Weirdly’s venjinces’re lame! He, like, pours grape jooce on ya!

“That might not be scary, but you can’t deny it’s bad.”

I yell at Max to run down to the drugstore and get me a new deck but there’s a crash of thunder over me, and then I hear a voice. Senor.

“You’re not Max.”

I ‘ave understood that Senor is most cunning and most discreet,  La Infanta requires senor’s cunning and discretion. Never actually seen a tapir in person before. Shorter than I expected.

“And La Infanta is who, and I should care why?”

He smiles like he’s the principal and I’m the kid that just figured out that the teachers don’t actually live at the school. La Infanta is a very rich and beautiful woman, Senor, and she will be grateful.

What the heck. That’s a particular noir cliche I haven’t had in far too long.

She's a head of state, Slylock, you keep both hands where I can see 'em!

One flight to the backend of nowhere later, and I’m shown into an old garden inside crumbling adobe walls. The city is fifty shades of tan, and the jungle clearly has a few things to say about the city being here, most of them vines, banana trees, and ferns poking of cracks in the stucco. It looks like it’s always sunset. It’s like if someone took the feeling of being on vacation too long and built the remnants of a Portuguese colony out of it.

Her Infantaness herself is wearing a few crown jewels, an expensive looking bathrobe, sunglasses, a long cigarette holder, and an expression that says she doubts whatever I’m here to say was worth getting out of the jacuzzi for. But she is beautiful, and she’s obviously rich.

We’ll see about the gratitude.

This, Me Donna, is the Americano detetive, the Tapir is going on, I have every confidence his efforts will not fail us.

She looks at me and nods. I don’t speak Inscrutable, but I’m guessing that means ‘We’ll see.’ Always nice to start a job in agreement with the client.

“You still haven’t told me what it is Her Infantness wants me to do,” I mention as the Tapir drives me out toward the outskirts.

My country, detective, it has a problem you see. There are… undesirables.

“Undesirables.”

Ci. We have tried many ways to… convince them to take themselves away. The Infanta, she does not wish to use violence, but to protect this glorious nation, all must be done. You see? Your cunning is famed, senor, and if you can arrange matters so that no violence becomes necessary.

What have I gotten myself into?

The undesirables are snakes. And after three hours of looking at them I can’t see any way to move them. Heck, I can’t even talk to them. My intrepid guide doesn’t speak their dialect himself. Not that they look interested in talking, they seem to prefer to drape themselves all over in attitudes of sloth. Which is specist, I know, but that seems to be the way they run things around here. I know laziness is supposed to be the stereotype, but this is something else.

“I don’t know what you want me to do here.”

The Tapir looks nervous. Wonder if this would have gone differently if he’d volunteered a name, but he looks secret-service-y enough that I don’t want to push. Cannot you… trick them? I had heard you were skilled at tricks.

“Fair point. For example, you might have heard that I have a sidekick?”

…Si?

“Aren’t you wondering why I didn’t bring him? And no, it’s not because I assumed he’d be eaten.”

…it is not that his passport is not in order, I am willing to wager. Note of resignation in his voice. He’s sharper than he looks.

“Sorry, guess again, he’s back in the states alerting the Feds as to the source of the new drug that’s been popping up the last few years. Not sure myself if its the orange lichen or the orange mushrooms, but they already knew it was from here. It’s pretty obvious that these snakes are on something, and I can’t see any other reason for you to want them out of this particular scrap of wilderness.” I put my feet up on the dashboard. “Thanks for letting me get a good long look at your operation, by the way.”

I see senor that you have planed for many eventualities senor, did he just tip his hat? may I inquire what your plan is for the powerful handgun in my pocket?

“I’m thinking I’ll point out that Interpol will be pulling up at your Childlike Empress’s house right about now, and without a credible witness,” I give him a quick smile, “you’re not going to have the chance to take the fall for her.”

So that’s how I ended up testifying in the trial of Senor Alberto St. Pinchaque, formerly head of the intelligence department of Her Radience La Infanta de Gatito. He didn’t seem too broken up, I have to say. Looked almost proud of himself.

Wonder why.

I didn’t see the princess again, though. I don’t think she was very grateful.

“Max, I’m gonna give you a partial list of things I could be doing instead of taking you to this stupid art fest. Since when do you like art fests anyway?”

Since I became aware of da yoirning fer byooty dat swells in da heart of every man!

Tickets to Burning Dog are beyond Max's financial reach.

“I could be arbitrating between the crab and the gator that started that riot down on the waterfront, maybe trick one of them into confessing.”

Sly, dis attitude really isn’ helpin.

“I could be recording that stupid PSA the comish has been on my back about, about stupid pinkies taking a damn bath so those of us who can actually smell don’t need painkillers to stand near them.”

Dat’s not a sootable attitude fer minglin wit da artistic communities.

“Which should be an indication of my desire to be here. I could be having a nice afternoon in the park, watching children play amongst the flowers, except that the park is full of loud, annoying, pretentious hipsters!”

Sly, dey aint gonna be interested in comin in peace if you keep sayin tings like dat!

“Good.”

I’m going back to the office. Till Max’s once-a-decade intellectual fit wears off, he can walk home.

Deja Vu is Sepia Toned.

It’d been a long drive. That kind where you’re doing 75 and it feels like 15. The kind that leaves your skin feeling like plastic and your mouth tasting like concrete. The kind that you just want it to be over and then you feel like crap when it is. I was looking forward to a tall, cold bourbon and water and eight hours of insensibility. Max just wanted to do his laundry. It was rank even for him, though it took him putting his nose right against his suitcase to notice.

And someone broke in. Of course. That’s just my luck… drive all day, and get to work as soon as you arrive. Shit, what were they even after? It’s not like I’m loaded, or nothing. I’m a fox, not a banker. But everything looked in place. They hadn’t rifled through the garbage, they hadn’t gotten at the safe behind the diploma, they hadn’t even moved enough around to scare off that huge spider in the corner. Swear that thing is watching me sometimes.

Steam?

Someone broke in to take a bath?

Max tosses down his suitcase impatiently. Wut da… again?! She broke in last toime we came back from a trip! Don’t dis broad know how to make a date like normal peeple?!

“Calm down, Max, and don’t jump to conclusions.” Straighten my tie quick here, “We haven’t seen Cassie in months, there’s no reason to expect this to be her.” Think I’ve got a bottle of wine in the bottom of the desk, assuming she didn’t steal it already, and hopefully I remembered to make the bed before I left-

Gyaaaaah! screams Shady Shrew as I open the bathroom door.

Aaaaaaaaah!

“Aaaaaaaah!” Max and I are this close to doing three-part harmony with him. “Dammit Shrew, what the hell are you doing in my bathtub?!”

Dis is your house, coppah?! Aww, shit in a donut, I am sooo goin ta dah clink, aint I?

“Brilliant deduction,” I growl through clenched teeth. “Course that’s only if you survive, which you will ONLY do if by the time I get back from bleaching my EYES you are fully dressed and waiting PATIENTLY for me to handcuff you!”

Geez Louise! Is jes a baff, I break in to random houses to take em all de dang time, aint nuttin to bite my flippin head off ’bout…”

Aw he’s just mad cuz he wuz expectin-

“Max, shut up harder than you have ever shut up before.”

Anyway, I was supposed to meet with a couple informers–crow and and a spider–when I get a call from Chief Mutt. He’s actually the lieutenant, his first name is Chief, but he’s still technically still my boss, so let’s hope I’ve got patient informers.

Hey, Max got his own scooter. Somehow I doubt this will win him Slylock's respect.

Heya Fox.

“Hey Mutt. So what’s the damage today?”

Whull, ah got a tip bout dis escapee, someone sawr him sneek inta dis ol’ biddy’s house.

“Is said Biddy ok?”

Sed biddy is jes fine unless she’s allergic tah pina coladas, she’s awn a crooz in Me-hi-co. Mah guess is dat he was on dah run, saw dah mail piled up an all an figgered t’would be a good place to lay low til da heat wuz off.

“Makes sense, so where in all that is something that’s got anything to do with me?”

Well he aint here is he?! Cain’t even find any sign dat he ever wuz…

Dere dere, Cheif, m an Sly’ll get da doity rat.

He’s a sparrow.

I ignore them both, which is something that I’ve had plenty of practice in, and take a good look at the house. Everything about it says ‘nutty old crone,’ and nothing says ‘escaped convict,’ so rather unfortunately it looks like I’m actually going to have to put in an effort. Was hoping to avoid that.

So wut’da doity, uh, boid do?

Corp’rate fraud. Had himself a retirement investment company, stole da nest eggs right out frum undah his clients.

Heheheh, nest egg, see, cuz he’s a boid…

…

You ain’t laughin, Cheif.

It ain’t funny, Max.

So he’s not what you’d call a hardened criminal, then. Which means I’m not looking for discarded drug gear, I’m looking for mistakes that a rich embezzler, fresh out of his first trip to prison would make. Like-

“The air conditioner’s was on.”

Wut?

Wha?

“The air conditioner’s been running lately, see the water?”

Wull, maybe da ol’ lady lef it on?

Yeah, what da mouse said.

“You can’t program these old window units,” And I would know, “you’ve either got to leave em on, or leave em off. It’s off now, and it was on earlier, which means someone was in there to turn it off.”

So where is he now?

I shrug. “That’s your problem. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a kidnapping to solve.”

“Would that I knew, Max, would that I knew.”

What.

See cuz it luks to me like we’re lukin at two cowboys what has been hypniotoized by count Weirdly’s insidious violin playin an so dey’s dancin wit wild abandon an also they have really weird lookin faces for some reason an dere’s a mystic word on da blackboard over dere, i guess dat might have something to do with it?

“I… really don’t think I can come up with a more concise summation, so kudos.”

So what do we do?

“We walk away. Whatever is going on here, I don’t want to get any on me.”

This is the day, you can look back and tell your kids, that Count Weirdly became an Act of God. A natural disaster. Something you don’t try to arrest, you just get out of the way.

I’m sure tomorrow he’ll be back to throwing ditchwater at people. I’ll bust him then.

But Sly I reaaaly can’t trow da flippin rope!

“If I have to get across the canyon by swimming and climbing up the other side you are not going to like the results.”

I should probably back up a little here.

This is by far the most annoyed we've ever seen Slylock look.

It started when a Mexican Hairless barged into my office. Knocked over my hatstand. Said he was some kinda minor celebrity, and he’d tried to do the ‘upload your disgusting sex tape to the internet, pretend to be shocked and angry, then ride the waves of indignant publicity to something resembling a film career,’ trick. I was about to make a really witty remark about how he missed the critical ‘have a body that anybody in their right minds might want to look at’ step, when he says he was attacked. By a black duck.

The victim says his attacker told him that he had to go through his boss, who he called ‘King Smiley,’ and suddenly I’m all interested. That sounds just vague enough to be the man behind a smut operation with a surprisingly large body count. So I traded a promise to investigate for the location he was supposed to meet up to make a deal. Tiny camp on the coast, national park, almost deserted. Good place to make a deal.

Also a good place for a trap, turns out.

After an hour’s hike, the only thing at the camp was a blank-looking kid cooking hotdogs. After half an hour’s walk back, we found the bridge had been cut.

So why’s dey done dis? Max says.

“I think we both don’t want to wait around and find out, here-” I hold out a hand.

What’re ya- AAAAAAAAH!

Been practicing with a medicine ball lately, you see. Had a feeling being able to throw Max was gonna come in handy sooner or later.

What da CRAP Sly?

“Max, you see that eagle?”

Yeah?

“And that bear?”

Looks like he’s mindin his own business an not FROWIN PEOPLE OFF CLIFFS!

“And that lizard?”

Dere a point dat you’re gonna be getting to?

“Do you want to stick around and play ‘Guess Which Of These Is Really A Hired Killer?’ Could be that the surprise twist is that they ALL are!”

…Dat’s a really good point Sly, whattya want me to do?!

“Throw me the rope!”

After I watch him drag back a damp rope, I recommend he start using a medicine ball, and he responds with a few choice expletives, all of which accomplishes but little. “Ok, cast the fishing line across, then tie the rope to the line and I’ll pull it over myself.”

Think that’s where we came in.

By the time I get up over the other cliff, the lizard, bear, and eagle are all on the other side, just watching. Guess they didn’t bring guns. Smart, nothing for ballistics to trace. I give em a good look, and then I’m on my way.

This looks like the start of a very serious game.

Wut da hell you talkin bout? Why should I come witchoo?

“Call it community service and maybe you can get some time off your sentence?”

Tink da judge gon’ buy dat?

“Hell no.”

He crosses his arms and pouts at me. “Fine then. It’s come with us, or stay locked in the back of the car.”

Dog-dressed-like-a-pirate there is henceforth known as Scurvy Dog.

Um, sir, I don’t think I can let you take my namecard-

“It’s a police investigation, there’s a kidnapping or something, give me the pass and get out of my way.”

Sir I’m the official judge and I think you need a warrant to-

“Oh and there’s a bomb, you need to evacuate!”

Max is putting the finishing touches when I get back. Ya had any troubles takin care of da papers?

“Nothing a little improvisation couldn’t fix. I see you got our assistant all ready.”

Cappah ah kno ah done some downright dirty stuff but dere aint nuffin I coulda done ta deserve-

I kinda tink he’s gawt a point Sly, why does he gotta dress like-

“Because it’s funny.” I crack my knuckles and grin. “Now let’s solve a mystery.”

It takes Harry a minute to get the hang of the oars, but that’s ok. Nobody’s going anywhere fast. They’re shouting fast, and pointing fast, and their scowling velocity is approaching the world record. But they’re not moving anywhere. The center of interest seems to be the boat with the festive balloons all over it, and I’m getting a funny feeling about what’s going to turn out to be inside. But no… it can’t be.

Youze guys is just jealous o’ my ingeniousness! cackles a familiar voice. It is. Dis race is in daprovoibial bag and de only ting whats gonna stop me naow is- Harry?!

Shit, not so loud, fool, don want nobody reconizin me!

What’re you doing dressed up loike Popeye da sailor’s snooty cuzin?!

“He’s bringing the celebrity judge. Hello Shrew.”

But… but… butbutbut… you cain’ be here! I made sure! You’re meant to be-

“Doing what, Shrew? What am I meant to be doing?” Little steel in the voice, might as well have his scared as well as stupid.

He glances down and wrings his hands so frantically that he appears to be trying to knit with the oars. Nuffin.

“Well, I’m here now, so I guess the race can begin. Go!”

Uh, says the dog dressed like a pirate for some reason, but isn’t he, with the balloons, isn’t that cheating?

“Hey, I’m the official official here, cause I have a nifty patch that says ‘official’ on my back.”

I still sex you shoulda worn it on da front.

“Shut up Max. And as the official I say the race can begin. Go!”

The whole race takes about three hours. Two and a half of that is waiting for Shady to get back to the starting line after he got a quarter of the way through a lap and gave up and tried to turn around. “So walk me through the scheme here, Shrew. You concoct this elaborate three-day plot to keep me distracted so that I can’t show up and tell you that your attempt to cheat is the worst idea since unslicable bread? Not seeing where you come out ahead, honestly.”

Screw youz and da hoirse ya rode in on! he manages to pant as he drags himself out of the boat.

“And all for what? To cheat on a race? You’ve really got a fixation with boat races. Must really burn you to have spent all that time on a distraction that wouldn’t have helped even if it worked.”

Hohoho, no. No. He goes to point at me, misses, falls on his back, decides he might as well stay there. You cannot pin dose posters on me, on account of I had nuttin ta do wit em anyway! So there.

“Maybe. Course, there’s the fact that I never said anything about posters.”

So Harry gets some company on the way back to the station. “Say, Max, where’d the sailor suit go?”

We burned it. Growls Harry.

“…fair enough.”

Nowadays it’s all parks and nonsense. No drama at all. Pathetic.

You ever tried to loom ominously behind a tree?

If a Pimp Running a Poker Grift in Public in Broad Daylight With a Cartoon Burglar and a Gay Biker Thug Doesn't Make This a Seedy Underworld, Then I Do Not Know What Will.

I traced the posters to a lovestruck graphic design student, beaver, short, looked way too innocent to be involved in any of this, which might not be worth much. She said that there had been a kid handing out stacks of them.

After asking around for what felt like weeks–because surprise surprise ‘A Kid’ is not much of a witness profile–I found a kid who said that he was one of a bunch of people that handed out posters. Had to buy him a three hotdogs to get the info out of em, idiot kept dropping them.

But I did get a lead on the posters.

So predictably I have to stop and handle something completely extraneous. On the plus side, it’s an actual crime, which is a nice change. On the other hand, it takes just five minutes and a phone call to ‘solve’ the mystery, so it’s not exactly a challenge. But hey, at least that means I can get back to work.

It aint fair, man! Wouldn had ta stash dese cash if it weren’t for dose dang posters!

Wait what?

“Wait what?”

Well, basickally when I saw dem po-lice posters goin up I knew I hadz to stash dese cash cuz you coppers wuz watchin me!

“Any chance you could tell me where this was?”

In dah alley up on sevent street!

Well how do you like that. I get an alley.