Marathon Mouse.

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.”

I'd be covering my nose too.

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.

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