1

A Pig Beginning

I couldn’t see a damn thing, these brutes had stuffed me in the trunk of their convertible like I was destined for the bottom of the bay, lets hope they hadn’t measured my trotters for concrete shoes. There I was minding my own business when I was jumped by a couple of goons with dodgy foreign accents and built like brick outhouses, I had no chance against them, especially the one sporting a horn on the end of his snout, that thing should be illegal. The car had come to a sudden stop bashing my snout against the hood. I could smell gasoline, which means I’m about to be part of a barbecue or they’re stopping for gas.

“Hey! You two! A little air would be nice.”

The trunk door was flung open and the other punk with a long face, gaping teeth and a stupid look pointed his hoof at me.

“If you want I can vent it with bullet holes!” he recommended.

“That’d be just peachy, if you let me out first.”

He slammed the door down hard almost smacking me in the noggin. I banged hard again, he flung it open, his eyes narrowed scowling at me.

“Will you shut it, pig!”

“You could at least tell me where we’re going.”

The one with the the horn pushed past gagging me with a rag.

“That should do the trick,” he growled. “You knock one more time and I’ll ventilate your brain!”

And that was that, the door shut down on me again, damn foreigners. I had no other choice but to kick back and relax, I love being manhandled by a couple of oversized morons.

About forty-odd minutes later, the car came to a stop. I heard them get out and open up the trunk, the sunlight shined through hitting me directly in the eyes. The long faced one heaved me out practically dropping me on the ground, the gag rolling outta my mouth.

“Hope you don’t treat your mother like this.”

He grabbed hold of my left arm and yanked me along a pebbled driveway and towards a mansion that must’ve been worth a buck or two. I had no chance of escape, one bad move and this maniac would snap my arm like a twig, whoever wanted to see me, made damn sure that I had no chance of getting away. We came to a room with a backless couch in the corner, I was chucked hard on to it nearly falling of the other side.

“You sit there and stay!” long face warned, as he walked into an adjoining room.

His friend stood there eye balling me, pounding one hoof into the other, normally intimidation doesn’t bother me but this guy was big, he looked like the kind that enjoyed ripping limbs from bodies. Long face came back, that didn’t make me feel any safer.

“The boss is ready to see you.”

“That’s great I’ve been looking forward to it.”

I was yanked up and pushed through the door, it was a nice room, maybe a bit on the dingy side. Sitting with his back to me was some kind of bird.

“Boss,” long face murmured.

He spun round on his chair, he was familiar but I’d never met him before.

“My apologies Mr Spayde, if my associates here were a bit on the rough side.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Long face one offered his hoof to be shook.

“No damage done, hey bra?”

I limply shook, not cos I didn’t mean it but the shoulder was still hurting from being pulled about.

“This is all very well but…do I know you?” I asked the bird.

“Not as such. My name is Falco Talon, my father was Faclone Talon.”

That was the back-stabbing deputy mayor, who tried to incriminate his own boss.

“Yeah, I remember him, don’t tell me dishonesty runs in the family.”

He got up from his seat and walked over towards me.

“Please Mr Spayde, hear me out.”

I don’t think I had much of a choice with psycho and sicko standing beside me.

“I’m all ears.”

“My father was innocent,” he proclaimed.

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“You drag me out here, to tell me that!”

“Mr Spayde, you like many were deceived by an elaborate plan by a Mayor to receive backing in adversity.”

I nodded, he could see from my face I wasn’t buying it.

“Frankie Vulpes, your partner, was working for me when he disappeared.”

Frankie? But he effectively put away his father.

“Why would Frankie help you?”

“Ten years ago, you recovered the diary from Latrotta which incriminated my father, as a direct consequence Gallus Rooster was re-elected because of public sympathy. What he didn’t realise was his new deputy, our current Mayor, would do to him what he did to my father.”

Sounds too far-fetched to me.

“You’re giving too much credit to Drake, I’ve met him and the duck’s an idiot.”

“Quite, he used Kapone to blacken the mayor’s name.”

It would explain how Kapone came about getting everything he wanted.

“Wasn’t Gallus killed in an accident?”

“That’s what it was made to look like.”

He believed every word he was spouting, I didn’t.

“Let’s say you are telling the truth, what proof do you have?”

“The diary.”

“Go on…”

“The last time I spoke with Frankie he told me he had got the diary back but it was too dangerous to come here, he went back to your office right?”

How the hell am I supposed to know, it was years ago, I shrugged, I had no answer for him.

“The last time you saw him, did he give you anything or say something?”

“Why the interest now? You’ve had several years to track me down, not like it was hard.”

“I promised Frankie I would leave you out of this because of the danger.”

“What changes things now?”

“Dominic Revart.”

Now that’s a name that just keeps popping up.

2

Luck be a Pig Tonight

Six months ago I was imprisoned for crimes I didn’t commit. I never stood a chance in court, that damn badger, Agent Barry Whitepaw; Frank to me, pinned all the evidence he could muster to me and has it stuck like flies to dirt. Then there was the judge who didn’t take too kindly to my protests of innocence and my threat to rip Frank’s ears off and stuff them down his mouth. The jury took twenty minutes to come up with a verdict. Found guilty of six murders and two counts of vandalism, apparently they took pity and declared me innocent of assaulting that badger, guess they didn’t like him either. Bound and tagged I was dragged off to Owlcatraz to serve out my one-hundred and thirty years sentence, with no possible chance of parole. So how did I get out? I guess lady luck’s been looking down on me.

******

Prison garb never looked right on me. For starters orange just wasn’t my colour and all in ones made me look fat. Owlcatraz, also known as ‘The Rock’, was purposely built to house the States most notorious and worst offenders. No-one has ever escaped and if you did get past the compound you’ve got a long swim back to Cisco bay in icy water, where hypothermia is more likely than freedom.

I would like to say the welcome party was one of back slapping and congratulations for being the latest psychopath to enter this hell hole but, for me, it was squinted eyes, pointing paws and general paranoia for how many of them I help put here. You’re effectively part of a parade for the prisoners, minus the playing band, which ain’t such a bad thing, when you hear how bad some are. I was stopped outside a cell that reminded me of a bathroom back in Cattleblanca. This would be my home until my eventual ticket on a slab outta here. A bed, a john and a sink what more could I need? Well, a little privacy wouldn’t go a miss.

Adapting to prison life was not the easiest thing I’ve ever done, I kept myself away from others in a vain hope that if I remained incognito, FB or someone may just prove my innocence and get me outta this pit. In following five months I managed to avoid the likes of Brutus, Harley Dane and Owl Kapone. I kept myself to myself and tried to blend in with the others, as each day passed I was waiting for the knife in the back. Eventually I befriended a badger called Red, no relation to Frank. He gave me a guided tour of the place, showing me the places to avoid and more importantly who to avoid. He got the nickname Red as a cub, he was the only badger in his brood who had a red stripe instead of white, the years haven’t been so great for him as its now grey. He’s served twenty years of a twenty-two year sentence for manslaughter.

Word eventually got round that I was banged up in here with these psychos and it wasn’t long before I had my first run in with one of the more unsavoury characters. I was set up by some squirmy rodent who told me the warden wanted to see me, on my way there I was jumped in the gym by Brutus and two of his minions; a ferret and a terrier with a broken nose.

“Well if it isn’t little Hammy.”

“So it took you five months to realise I was here, Brutus?”

Brutus; Mickey Latrotta’s enforcer. He ended up behind bars due to Frankie and me.

“I’ve been in the hole for the last six, only just heard you were here yesterday, you dumb little piggy.”

I let out laughter, much to his fury.

“Dumb little piggy?” I mocked. “You’ve been banged up for the best part of ten years and that’s the best you’ve got?”

The Ferret next to him sniggered under his breath, Brutus shot him a look.

“Somthin’ funny?”

“That was pretty bad boss,” the ferret replied.

Brutus smacked him hard, sending him crashing into a load of dumbbells.

“I’m gonna make you squeal!” he said as he flexed his muscles like this was a body building competition.

“Scruff, watch the door.”

The scrawny mutt hurried of to the gym entrance, only to come flying back landing in a heap in front of us. We both looked over to the door to see a large prison guard standing there bat in paw.

“This ain’t got nuffing to do with you!” Brutus yelled.

Personally I was happy with the intervention.

“You okay, Ham?” he said.

He moved forward and I could see clearly who it was.

“Ted? What the hell you doing here?”

Ted Grizzly; the dim but incredibly strong bear.

“Owl got me da job.”

Owl Kapone got him the job? Why the hell would a prison board employ someone at the recommendation of a convicted inmate?

“This reunion is bringing me ta tears, but ya better scram fuzzy, before I make a rug outta ya!”

I really hope he didn’t just say that.

“I don’t like rudeness,” Ted bemoaned.

Brutus charged at him and in an all too familiar scenario. Ted let swing with the bat flooring Brutus.

“You’d think he’d learn,” I quipped.

Brutus was out cold, two other bears came running in.

“Ya okay bro?” one asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Dis mutt here wants another few months in da hole.”

There was no denying they were his brothers, they picked up Brutus and dragged him out as Red came running in.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Just peachy,” I turned to Ted, “I owe you one buddy.”

“Ham Spayde, never owes Ted any-fing we always owe you.”

I guess lady luck Is a pig.

After being banged up the last person I ever expected to see was my defence lawyer Remington Steed, not that we parted on bad terms but I’m pretty sure his last words to me was that he was never gonna work for me again. Here he was – waiting for me as a visitor smiling away like he’d just won the lottery. New evidence had come to light disproving the prosecutions case and backing up mine. A mysterious envelope had showed up on his desk, with proof that Curtis had killed the Ramstein Brothers over a bungled blackmail attempt and as a result Curtis’ death was a revenge hit organised by Mickey Latrotta which led to the mini war at the docks when Magnus Malus-Lupus attempted to broker a deal with the psychotic gangster. Now, I’m not a judge or district attorney, but if that heap of crap had landed on my desk I would’ve laughed my way to the funny farm. The gun that was used to kill the Ramstein brothers had a second set of prints, paw prints to be exact, whoever was helping me had strategically planted evidence, that could be blamed on a cover up by the cops.

“So this paw print result just turned up?” I asked.

“Can you believe it? This prairie dog turns up out of the blue clutching an envelope, asks to see me and next thing I know, I’ve got witness statements a set of discarded paw prints, all this stuff that was allegedly covered up.”

Allegedly such an apt word, meaning this will be filed under ‘b’.

“And you believe this? Sounds far-fetched to me” I asked Remington.

“Does it matter? The D.A. are already filing release papers for you.”

Because of circumstantial evidence? something smells and it’s not this horses breath.

“So, what, that’s it – I’m a free hog?”

“All in good time Mr Spayde.”

He got up with a prominent grin on his mush, he offered his hoof to shake and I happily obliged.

“See you soon Remington.”

He left and a prison guard heaved me up.

“The Commissioner wants to see you.”

“Who?”

“The police commissioner, says it’s urgent, pig.”

This would be police’s third top brass in the space of two years. Harley Dane, who served in the position for more than ten years was put away in this hell hole, after I helped expose his corruption. And the more recent one resigned a few months back, citing anxiety attacks. So why would the new commissioner wanna see me? It wouldn’t have anything to do with this new piece of information now, would it? I was led through the hallways to another room, my trotter cuffed to the table as I was forced to sit.

“This really necessary?”

The guard walked off without saying another word. I sat there for at least five minutes before a distant jangling sound grew nearer. The door was flung open and a tall, lean built coyote walked through, dressed immaculately in a dark blue suit, with a matching tie.

“Glad you could come Mr Spayde,” his paw reaching out to be shook, I let it hang.

“I didn’t have anywhere more pressing to be at.”

He spun his chair round sitting on it the wrong way.

“Lets keep this brief, my name is Jacques Hall, that’s the Frelon spelling if you need to write it down,” why would I do that? “I’m the new commissioner here in Cisco.”

He was well spoken too, looks like we got ourselves a college pup here.

“That’s just the news I’ve been waiting to hear, congratulations,” I sarcastically responded.

He sneered at my remark, guessing first impressions weren’t all that.

“I’m going to be blunt, the new evidence we’ve had come our way, is the biggest load of bull I’ve ever read.”

looks like I’m not the only one not fooled then.

“It may be but the papers for my release are already being filed.”

“I know, I sanctioned it.”

He did what?

“Are you normally in a position to help out convicted murderers?”

“Only when they’re innocent.”

I looked away smiling to myself, this pup was too much.

“So what do you want?”

“I’m sorry Mr Spayde, I don’t follow.”

“There’s always an angle, you do me a favour and you’ll want something back.”

He got up from his chair and walked round to my side, squatting in front of me.

“I need you to expose Mayor Drake for what he really is.”

“He’s got too many friends in high places.”

“Like that Federal Agent Whitepaw?”

I hate that badger and now it looks like I’m walking head first into whole load of trouble I don’t want.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the best.”

The best? I’m far from that I let down Missy, FB, Paddy and Frankie to name a few.

“You got the wrong hog, Pup.”

“Harley Dane was released from here three months ago, by my predecessor.”

Explains why I’ve not seen that mutt in here.

“So where do I come into all this?”

“Harley showed up dead last week.”

“Dead!?”

“A hooded figure like the one you described in your defence, was spotted fleeing from the scene.”

Ruby? But she’s dead. He threw down the witness statement and I scanned through it quickly. Harley had been stabbed in the back, in exactly the same fashion that the rat was killed.

“This still doesn’t explain why you filed my release papers?”

“I’m the commissioner, I can do what I like.”

He got up and whistled, the guard opened up the door.

“It’s funny you know, Dane had a lot on the Mayor and that Agent, he gets released and now he’s dead,” he walked towards the door, stopped and looked back. “Now you’re being aided by a mysterious friend, makes me wonder what lies in store for you.”

“Is that some kinda threat?”

He dodged that question, don’t think I like this mutt.

“You get outta here on Friday morning.”

“That soon?”

He moved back towards me, handing me a card.

“That’s my address and number, I expect you to look me up when you get out.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll have you locked up in here forever.”

I laughed out loud.

“Isn’t that called double jeopardy? You can’t go down for the same offence.”

He grinned at me.

“I have my ways, see you around Spayde.”

I hate smug, arrogant pups.

The day of my freedom arrived and for the first time in a while I was in high spirits. Ted came by to lead my outta this dump, I took a moment to stop of at Red’s and tell him to look me up when he got out. Ted led me through the gates before passing me over to the sea marshal. Even though it wasn’t, the air smelt fresh to me. I’d like to think I was a free hog but, with the commissioner wanting my help and the difficult task of finding Missy, I may well have been better off inside. My first job would to be track down FB, I’ve heard nothing from him since the docks but, there’s a particular bull who should hopefully know his whereabouts, I’ll also need Paddy O’Boarly’s help, that’s if he can stand the sight of me, he was suspended from the police force ‘cos of me. The boat pulled up at Cisco bay and I picked up my bag, turned and watched them go back, I was on my own. I had about five bucks to my name that should pay for a cab. As I walked towards the road, a black car pulled up in front of me.

“You Spayde bra?”

“Who wants to know?”

The next thing I remember is being forced into the trunk.

Falco stood there waiting for an answer, guess I must’ve lost myself in my thoughts.

“Dominic Revart right? So how does he fit into all this?”

“We’re not entirely sure, what we do know is Revart works as some kind of aide to the President.”

“An aide to Roostervelt?”

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s what my informant has told me and before you ask, no, I don’t think the President is involved. If I was a betting bird I’d wager the diary has dirt on him, maybe something that could harm his reputation.”

That still didn’t answer my question, Missy and her team had been trying to track down Revart for months, he was a ghost.

“No one even knows who he is, yet you somehow have stumbled across the notion he’s after the diary.”

“Isn’t everyone? It’s why Malus-Lupus tracked you down.”

“You seem to know a lot about me.”

He grinned, I didn’t.

I don’t like anyone keeping tabs on me, especially this swanky suit with his expensive furnishings, if I had a baseball bat right now I’d put it to good use.

“Mr Spayde, I heard about your unfortunate situation.” That’s a nice way to describe the can. “And then I heard about the chance of your release and I knew you could help me. But. You see I loved my father dearly and it would be a fitting end to his legacy.”

Spare me the sentiment, I was having a hard enough time swallowing this bull. The question is why would a presidential aide risk everything for a diary?

“So, lemme guess, you want my locker key?”

He may as well join the list.

“It’s no good to me, there’s about a million lockers in Cisco, surly Frankie left you a clue for which one?”

“Possibly, but I’ve got two problems; one, I don’t have the key any more and two, my office would’ve defaulted on the rent so its probably empty now along with all my processions.”

He looked at me with a face of disbelief.

“You don’t have the key?” he said almost patronising me.

“That’s what I said,” in a sly dig at his last comment. “I gave it to my partner to look after.”

He turned away, guess that rattled his cage.

“You help me find FB, I’ll help you find the locker.”

He turned back, there was something different about his posture, he seemed more distant instead of the pally attitude he was just showing.

“Then we better find him, my two associates will help you look, they’ll drive you anywhere you want.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone,” he quickly retorted.

I turned back towards the door, my new found friends blocking the way.

“I’m guessing you guys have no intentions of moving, you could at least tell me your names.”

“My apologies, Mr Spayde, allow me,” Falco interrupted. “The one with the horn his name is Renoster White and the other is Seekoei River.”

Nice to finally know the names of my captors.

“Pleasure to finally get acquainted,” I quipped.

“No probs bra,” Renoster said.

“bra? What the hell do you keep saying that?”

Seekoi laughed.

“It is friend in Afrocats.”

I turned back to Falco, “Nice to know there names but I work best alone.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get a choice in the matter, too often I’ve allowed others to leave with a guarantee of results, only for them to hop on the first plane and leave the country.”

“How many of them were a pig hell bent on revenge?”

He gazed at me, like I was something on the bottom of his shoe, he was reluctant to let me outta his sight.

“Renoster.”

“Yes boss!”

“Drive Mr Spayde wherever he wants to go.”

I smiled smugly, I like it when it’s on my terms.

“I’m trusting you Mr Spayde but I want an update.”

“Fine by me how do I get back here?”

“You don’t, do you know ‘The Crows Nest’ on the corner of Thirteen and Canter?”

I nodded, I’d heard of the place but never been inside, no doubt its a great little seedy place for the likes of him.

“Tomorrow, One O’clock.”

“Sounds good to me,” I turned to Renoster. “You know the ‘Drunken Monkey’?”

“Yeah, that’s the bar with the bull that talks funny.”

That’s cheap coming from someone who still speaks with his native accent.

“Bang on there sonny and his name’s Angus.”

Next thing I know I’m out cold guess that really don’t want me to know the location of this joint.

3

Hasta la vista, Pig

My head was hurting, it was pounding away like a maniac on a drum kit. I was perched up against a wall in familiar surroundings, across the road from me was ‘The Monkey’, now that was a sight for sore eyes. How long had I been out for? Damn it they could have just blindfolded me. I stumbled to my trotters like a boxer hanging on for one more round. It was spitting with rain and I was missing my fedora. With blurry eyes I crossed the road avoiding the oncoming traffic, pushing through the doors of The Monkey like a drunk wanting ‘one for the road.’ The place was empty, hey nothing changes then. Angus was standing behind the bar with his back to me.

“Sorry laddie we’re closin’ up fur th’ night,” he moaned in his thick Trottish accent.

“No chance of the usual then?”

Without turning around I could see his ears wriggle, like someone had just awarded him a cash prize.

“Unless ma lugs are deceivin’ me?” he turned round to see me. “Ham Spayde as I live an’ breathe, I thooght ye waur holed up in th’ slammer?”

Instinctively he reached to the top shelf, dusting down a bottle of single malt.

“Lets just say they had a change of heart.”

He poured me a large measure.

“I’ve bin keepin’ thes fur ye until ye got oot, I always hud faith. ”

I necked the drink, oh Scotch, how I missed you.

“You’re a liar Angus, no one bought it did they?”

His smile gave the game away. The door opened up behind me and I turned to see a chihuahua dressed all in black with a sombrero emblazoned with a skull, walk in carrying a small musical instrument case.

“Sorry pal we’re closed,” Angus stated.

“I’m sorry gringo, I not here to drink.”

I turned back looking in the mirror behind Angus at his reflection, he stood there gazing at me.

“Unless yoo’re gonna play somethin’, ye better scram.”

The chihuahua placed his case down on a table and opened it, he pulled out a small tommy gun and cocked it.

“Say hello to my little friend,” he threatened.

I looked at Angus who looked back at me, we both let out a rapturous laughter. Angus proceeded to reach under the counter and pull out a double-barrelled shotgun, the mutt was surprised.

“Yoo call ‘at a gun? noo thes is a gun laddie!”

It was a stand off and I was the piggy in the middle, the mutt let out a war cry as he unleashed a hail of bullets at us, I jumped the bar as the bullets ripped through the stool I was sitting on.

“Nice going Angus, rile the little pooch.”

“It’s mah bar, I do whit I like, ” he stated. “An’ only I’m allowed tae shoot th’ hell ootta it.”

He stood up firing away at the little guy, blasting two tables in the process.

“Don’t suppose you have a spare gun?”

Angus took cover next to me.

“Nope.”

In which case there was only one choice, I grabbed five beer bottles of the shelf and leapt up, discharging them like grenades. The first landed next to his paws the second almost taking his hat off the third straight in his mush sending him flying backwards.

“I’ll add those tae yer tab then, Ham.”

That’s gratitude for you, I jumped the bar kicking his gun away before he could reach it. I grabbed hold of his collar tie lifting him off the floor.

“Who sent you?”

“I not tell you.”

“Yoo’ll tell heem or I cood add chihuahua burger tae th’ menu, served wi’ deep fried cockroach an’ a dollop of guacamole,” Angus interrupted.

Something tells me Angus has had too much time on his hoofs to come up with something as detailed as that, the little guy looked panicked and sweat drizzled down his face, I could feel his tiny heart beating fast.

“He’s not kidding.”

“Lincoln Hound sent us, he said he had a score to settle with you, hombre.”

“You tell that lilly livered mutt, this pig doesn’t forget he’s still last.”

I carried him to the door and threw him out like garbage. Clapping my trotters together when the job was done.

“Now that was fun,” I said to Angus as I walked back from the door. “By the way where’s FB?”

“He’s bin livin’ doon th’ black markit at th’ bay, says he’s too ashamed tae show his face efter whit happened tae yoo.”

That cubs got nothing to be ashamed of.

“Hey Ham, whit dae yoo think he meant by ‘us’?”

“Who?”

“Th’ rodent we jist kicked oot.”

The door went behind us again.

“You shouldn’t have done that to Diego, gringo.”

I guess this is the ‘us’. We turned round to see not one, not two, but no less than six chihuahuas standing there, all dressed the same. The mutt I threw out followed them in nursing a sore arm, making seven.

“All we need now is Snow White,” I mocked.

They were all carrying music cases as well.

“You come with us, Pig or we kill the fat ginger one.”

“Whit did yoo call me, pal?”

I put my trotter out stopping Angus stomping forward.

“I already told your buddy there to deliver a message back to Lincoln, don’t make this any more painful than it needs to be.”

“Are you threatening me, gringo?”

“No – I’m warning you.”

The six of them flicked opened their cases revealing an arsenal of weaponry.

“I give you one more chance.”

“Can yoo believe thes joker, Ham?”

They then proceeded to arm themselves, things had suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

“Don’t worry about it Angus, I’ll go with them.”

Angus seemed surprised.

“I’m glad you see sense gringo, you’re worth more money alive.”

“What about the fat one, Héctor?”

“Shoot him, Carlos!”

What, now that’s not part of the deal, I quickly slammed the rifle into the mush of the nearest chihuahua to me, knocking him out. Before the others could react to me a table thrown by Angus crashed into three others. Leaving Héctor, Carlos and Diego, who was already scurrying outta the door. I grabbed hold of one the miniature guns aiming it at Héctor who in turn was aiming at me as was Carlos. Angus levelled the playing field by reintroducing his shotgun.

“We seem to have a stand off buddy,” I told him.

“I am willing to die gringo, are you?”

“Not really but my buddy there doesn’t miss.”

Carlos turned his gun on Angus.

“Yoo really wanna do that pal?” Angus dared.

Being confronted with a gun of that size gave Carlos cause for consideration.

“I told you dey were nuts,” Diego shouted peering round the door.

Héctor lowered his gun.

“You live for another day gringo but we will be back and next time we won’t be so forgiving.”

He helped up a couple of his wounded compatriots while Carlos pulled up the others.

“Hasta la vista, pig,” was his last words as they left the establishment.

The bar was a mess, not the first time it’s been like this and it for sure it won’t be the last.

“You want me to hang around and help clear up?”

“Nah, I got it covered, yoo track doon ‘at damn cub an’ brin’ heem home, I need th’ help aroond here.”

Help? This place is quieter than a morgue, unless you count what just happened.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you Angus.”

He nodded as I made my way to the exit.

“Ham, I forgot…,” he called after me.

I turned around as he ran out back, returning with something that I had been missing, my beloved fedora. He threw it to me.

“Yoo look stupid withoot it,” he joked.

I placed it firmly on my noggin, how I had missed you.

“Thanks.”

I turned back and left, next stop; Black Market, I wonder whether it’s still the same password.