Glazed Yellow Eyes and Glazed Yellow Donuts.

It’s never who you think it’s gonna be. That’s the first rule, kids. When the cuffs are coming on, and it’s time to turn away from the accusing stares, it’s never who you thought it was gonna be. Even when your first hunch turns out to be right, cause by the time it all comes out, you’ve second guessed yourself.

It looked so simple.

Eyewitnesses to a robbery who came in themselves, no need for ‘persuasion,’ and a description that includes a distinctive hat that aint too common, either. Sometimes you get a case that’s like a mile or two of yarn all tangled up. Sometimes you get a case that just makes no damn sense, like an a assault victim getting milk dumped all over him. A case this simple–I shoulda known it was too good to be true. Good thing I did.

Max went right for the food the second we came in: probably forgot all about the case as soon as he saw something with sugar and butter in it. Me, I was stuck in my tracks for a second. I didn’t need to see where he’d hidden the loot to see why he did it. He was plainly coked to the gills. Explains why he was after such a small take: he needed cash to feed his habit, and he wasn’t thinking straight about how to get it.

Except when I went to tell him the game was up, I saw the way the shelves buckled. I saw the muscles the rabbit kid had built up just from lifting one of the cupcakes. This loaf of bread really did weigh eight pounds.

And so when I saw the guy wasn’t breathing… well, this was a frame up job. Killed him, maybe to keep him from talking, maybe to shut him up… maybe to make it look like a suicide? Why kill a man for quarters: is there something more to it than quarters, or do they just wanna play games with me? Hell. I won’t know till I catch up with whoever has the real loot.

It’s never who you think it is.

C’mon, Max. Nothing we can do here.

“Aw, but Sly! Lookit tha donuts! Can’t we get a snack?”

Not unless you want to be crapping rocks for a week, kid.

Poor guy. Least he didn’t put eggplants in anything. I’ll say that much for him, whoever he was.

The Final Word.

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