Chance walked into the garage, humming to himself. Three weeks! He and Benny had a friendly rivalry at the pool hall going, but Chance had found himself at the wrong end of a losing streak for the last three weeks. Finally, this evening, he had met Benny at the bar after work and, to his amazement, won, bringing the streak to a merciful end.

He headed towards the kitchen, but was surprised to see a light on in the office. Heading over in that direction, Chance spied Jake sitting in the office through the window. Chance reached for the door handle so he could brag about his victory, but something about the way Jake sat there looked…wrong. He had his head down, like he was reading something, but there wasn't much in front of him. A very short letter, a few envelopes, two or three old work orders. The more Chance stood there, the more weirded out he started feeling. What's up with Jake? Finally, Chance pushed the door open, and decided to defuse the feeling with a little levity.

"You done memorizing that desk, buddy?"

Jake barely moved. His eyes flicked up to where Chance was standing, then returned down to the desk. Chance could've sworn he heard Jake muttering or growling under his breath, too - something he wasn't sure he'd ever heard him do before.

"Jake, you all right?"

Jake sort of shuddered and leaned back in his chair. "Chance, buddy, I'm sorry...it's...well...it's just not a good day, OK?"

"What's not good about it?"

Putting on a feeble attempt at a smile, Jake said, "It's nothing. Really."

Chance shook his head. "Don't pull that on me, Jake. Something's up." He got up, grabbed a soda from the small fridge in there, then sat down across the desk from Jake. "Talk."

Jake stared into Chance's eyes, then hung his head down. "It's...I don't know...everything, I guess."

Chance smirked. "OK, gotcha. It's nothing and it's everything. Lemme guess. It's something in between. Come on - talk to your partner here. You know the rule - no secrets."

Jake said, "No secret, Chance. Really, it's everything. It's just...look." He waved his hand over towards where the garage was. "We've got cars up the yin-yang to take care of."

A half-frown appeared on Chance's face. Since when was this new? "We'll get to them when we get to them. You know that."

"Yeah, I know." Jake began talking a bit faster. "And in between cracked engine blocks and failed master cylinders, we'll go off and save the city in that plane of ours. What has it been...four times this week?"

Chance shrugged. "Yeah. Sounds right. You said it yourself - a vigilante's work is never done."

"Bingo. It's never done." Jake shook his head and narrowed his eyes. "I'm down to what? Four, five missiles? Any spare time I get the next six weeks, I'm going to have to make more...or else we're stuck saving the city with our fire extinguishers."

"Well, maybe next week, Dark Kat'll be attacking us with fire monsters." Chance tried on a goofy grin.

Jake narrowed his eyes further. "No jokes, Furlong, please. Not now."

Immediately, Chance sobered up. "Sorry."

"Then there's this." Jake pointed to the short letter that was sitting in front of him.

"What is it?"

"A little love note from the Enforcers. Seems it's time to audit our books here at the salvage yard."

"So?"

"So? Take a look around, Chance." He indicated the papers and files strewn around the office, the couch, the floor. "Think this'll pass inspection?"

"Well, we'll clean it up."

"When? During all that spare time of ours?"

Chance thought for a minute. "Why don't we can hire someone to take care of it? Temps work cheap, right?"

Jake half-laughed. "Yeah, I thought the same...but then I thought some more. How are we supposed to explain our sudden disappearances to this...paper pusher?" Jake faked waving to an imaginary person across from him. "Hey, if we're not back by 5, lock up for us!"

Chance shrugged again. "You never know. We could make it work."

Jake leaned back, put his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. "Buddy, listen, it's easy to say 'we could make it work', but it's a major pain in the tail making it work. And frankly, I'm sick of making it work. I don't know if I can make it work by myself anymore...Don't get me wrong." He stopped and looked at Chance for a second. "I wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't here doing it with me. But how long can we keep this up?"

"As long as we have to."

"Well, yeah, but I don't want to have to anymore. Y'know how much we still owe for our 'little incident'?"

"Nope." Chance rubbed his eyes. "And I don't think I want to."

"Yeah, well, I know...and you're right - you don't want to know." Jake sighed again and rubbed his eyes, sighed once more, and tried to keep his voice level. "I chose this life, Chance, and deep down, I don't really regret it. But I don't like living like this. It's like - I dunno - I feel like my whole life is this house of cards. It's still standing, but it ain't steady at all. Just one small wind, and..." He waved his hand.

Chance looked more concerned, but said, "I don't think it's really all that bad, Jake."

Jake opened his eyes and looked squarely at Chance. "When's the last time either of us had a date?"

With a smile, Chance said, "Last week."

Jake looked askance at his partner. "Taking Miss Briggs back to MegaKat City in the TurboKat doesn't count as a date, buddy."

Chance shrugged. "It does in my book."

Jake leaned forward. "There you go...just riding in the same vehicle with her is a date to you. You don't think that's sort of pathetic?"

Chance wrinkled his brow. "And what about you, lover boy? Any hotties lined up for Saturday?"

Jake leaned back against the wall again. "No. There's the point. If even a miracle happened, and I managed to find someone who wanted to go out with a third-rate mechanic, I couldn't go anyway, 'cause we're so busy. We've got - what - monsters in the streets, busted cars, a depleted missile stockpile, a mound of paperwork...and that's Jake's life, everybody." He closed his eyes, and began rubbing his face.

Chance was about to reply when the phone rang. Jake opened his eyes and looked at Chance, who looked back at him. After three rings, Jake slowly said, "Aren't you gonna get it?"

Chance kept his eyes on Jake, but reached over to grab the phone. "Yeah? Jake & Chance's Repair & Salvage."

"I was wondering when you were going to pick up," said Miss Briggs. "Look, Chance, I know it's really short notice, but Mayor Manx had the transmission on his limo go out on him. Would you be able to squeeze it in this evening?"

Chance glanced back at Jake one more time, then scratched the side of his head and sighed. "Look, I'm not sure I can. We're really backed up here."

Miss Briggs sort of gasped. "Oh, but I already told him it would be no problem!"

Chance growled, "Yeah, well, today it's a problem. Trust me - I wouldn't tell you that if it wasn't."

Miss Briggs put a little edge on her voice. "Well, what am I supposed to tell Mayor Manx?"

Tell him to get off his fat tail and walk, thought Chance. "Look, tell him we might be able to squeeze him in tomorrow. It's just not gonna fly tonight."

Chance could almost picture her leaning forward and putting her hand on her hip. "And what are you two so busy doing today? Or shouldn't I ask?"

Chance had had enough. "Now, look here, you know we bend over backwards for you and hizonor every time you need somethin'. But tonight, we're just over our heads here!"

Miss Briggs was a bit taken aback. "Well, all right. But what am I supposed to do until then?"

Chance growled back, "Beats me. Call Feral. Maybe he can stop polishin' his medals long enough to fix Manx's limo." He slammed the phone down. "Crud!" He turned back to Jake, who was staring at him with large eyes. Chance thought for a second, then waved it away. "Aw, she had it coming."

Jake shook his head. "Now I got you doing it."

"No. That had nothin' to do with you." Chance's eyes suddenly lit up. "Why don't you take the evening off?"

Jake looked incredulous. "What! WIth us as far behind as we are!"

Chance shrugged. "We're so far behind now, you taking the day off ain't gonna make much difference. Besides, you let me run off and play pool today."

"I wouldn't ask you to give up your pool games with Bennie, Chance. You know that."

"I know. But fair's fair. I'll take care of the cars. Go back to your room. Watch some TV or something. Get your mind back on track."

Jake looked down for a minute. "I'm not sure it'd be any help."

"Yeah, but could it be?"

Jake half-shrugged and drew a large breath. "It might. I'm willing to try anything at this point." He looked up. "You sure you don't mind?"

Chance smiled. "Are you kidding? If I know you, you'll be back here in twenty minutes, tail between your legs."

Jake smiled back, stood up and put his hand on Chance's shoulder. "Thanks, buddy. I won't forget this."

Chance laughed, putting his hand on Jake's. "Yeah, like I'll let ya!" He watched as Jake left the office, then let his smile disappear. He sat there glumly for a minute, then jumped up and headed back to the garage. He walked over to a half-rebuilt engine and yanked on the alternator. This ain't good, he thought. Jake's always been the strong one when I've been ready to blow. What the heck are we going to do if we both get down in the dumps?

Jake sifted through his CDs, finally settling on one of his favorites - the Atomic Zombie Mob. He slipped it into the boombox and pressed play, then jumped up into his hammock. The screaming guitars and drums hit him full-on, and he smiled a bit. After about twenty seconds, the smile faded. Jake jumped back down and stopped the disc, then jumped back up. He thought, I probably don't need something that's louder than my brain can think. My mind's going like 200 mph here. What am I supposed to do to slow it down?

He jumped back into his hammock and took another deep breath. He thought, I read somewhere that when your brain gets all messed up, the trick is to not work too hard at thinking - to just let the thoughts come and go. He sat quietly for a minute. Thoughts came and went, all right, but none of them were pleasant or helpful - in fact, many of them were downright upsetting. After about a minute, he slapped the wall with his open palm, sending himself rocking slightly. Heck, what's wrong with me? This isn't anything I haven't dealt with before.

He found this thought slightly comforting. Reaching below the hammock to his desk for a pad of paper and a pencil, Jake scribbled down:

1. This isn't anything I haven't dealt with before.

He sucked on the end of the pencil for a second, then wrote:

2. Things seem impossible...

A loud deep buzzing filled the air. Jake threw the pad and pencil against the wall with all his force. "No! No! No!" he yelled, but his body obeyed better than his mind - he was already out the door.