It was late at night, and RJ was hungry. Like, really hungry. Hungrier than he had been before he had stolen from Vincent, probably hungry enough to agree for Vincent to eat him, only if he got a snack out of it, though.

Ok, so that was a little exaggerated, no biggy? Ok, big biggy.

Either way the raccoon was hungry, and who could blame him that he didn't want to wake his family just to eat, and they barely had any food left. RJ made a mental note that they had to go on a heist sooner or later to stock up, since Verne would never end about winter coming, and disaster striking yadda yadda yadda.

So the raccoon made his way out of the log, taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure his family were still sleeping, so he could get away.

Then, after turning around and grabbing his golf bag, he made his way out of their home in a brief sprint on all fours, turning in the direction of Vincent's abandoned cave. Most creatures would think he was crazy making his way to where his arch-enemy lived, but Vincent was gone. And besides, it wasn't the cave where RJ was headed.

Quite the opposite really.

It was the vending machine.

The good ol' stupid vending machine.

The one that RJ wasn't going to quite give up on yet, and was determined to steal from. Besides, he had gotten something out of it once, right? Not the most adequate time, but it was still something, although he had hated getting it at that time.

But now, it was a symbol of hope. If it wasn't for that packet of chips, RJ wouldn't bother coming over to try again.

It was a little secret of his, but once a week he came over to try and get a little something from it. It had been his goal since Vincent had been transported to the Rockies, so the raccoon didn't have to worry about his safety, or being outwitted into bringing a grizzly bear his monthly food.

Nope, everything was perfectly safe for him, and RJ went over all of these thoughts until he arrived.

The Vending Machine.

It looked amazing in the shining moonlight, stocked with all those bits and pieces of food. At least to a raccoon, RJ mused, as he placed his bag down, rubbing his paws together in anticipation.

This time. This time, for sure.

And just like that the heist master dove into the serve slot, wriggling, trying to get in. He just managed, but just as he got his tail in, he heard voices. The raccoon froze, but didn't hear anything after.

Maybe he was just hearing things?

Yeah, that had to be it, RJ concluded as he reached his paw out of the slot, pawing at the handle of his bag, and then dragging it in with him. He quickly rummaged through it, and then after a couple of seconds brought out a spanner that he had found a couple of days ago on one of his lonesome mini heists. At the time he just thought it looked shiny, and since raccoons had a soft spot for shiny things, taken it in, but then RJ had realised it might come in handy, so he had put it in his bag.

RJ fingered the tool, spinning it around once or twice to get a good paw hold.

Then, he started unscrewing the roof of the slot, taking the screws out one by one. He would get some more chips, if it was the last thing he did. RJ knew he had to be careful, or else he would be electrocuted or buried in vending machine rubble and food, not that he would mind the latter.

So he carefully chucked the screw out, one by one, until he could gently yank the slot door away from the place where the food exited, pushing it out of the main door, creating a clank.

He was just about to climb up when the voices came back, a tad bit louder. The raccoon froze again, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.

It better not be humans, that was all RJ knew. If it was, they would call the new verminator and he would be toast, especially in the position he was in, stuck in a vending machine and all.

Soon the voices were close enough for him to hear what they were saying, and the raccoon almost sighed in relief.

They were animals, so cross humans off the list. However, there was still the problem they could be dogs, or a cat that could hurt, or worse, kill him. He may have sharp teeth and sharp enough claws, but that wasn't enough if he had to go up against a Doberman, so RJ limited down his breathing to shallow breaths, and tried not to squirm.

The voices were now probably right next to the vending machine now, as he could hear the conversation.

"I thought I saw him go this way," came a hushed whisper.

"Are you sure?" an answer came.

"Yes I'm sure," the whisper came out in a huff.

"Cus I don't see him,"

"Maybe he went back to living on his own!"

"Don't think that, he wouldn't,"

RJ froze at this, if it was possible. Scratch anything that could kill him, these animals were worse. Way worse.

It was his family, and sure was he in for a heck of a lecture from Verne if they found him.

So he crouched even lower in the slot so they couldn't see the top of his head from outside. He could feel his heart beat grow as he heard some scuffle outside. RJ was thankful that he had grabbed his bag in with him instead of just taking the spanner.

1 He didn't want them to worry that he had been kidnapped or anything.

2 He didn't want to give any indication he was there.

Any indication, RJ soon realized, like the slot door resting out of the slot. Just great. He was dead, he and his charisma and snarky attitude. Goodbye to being able to go on mini heists, goodbye freedom to roam around the city on his own at night. Verne was going to kill everything, all of his rights to run wild.

Okay, again he was exaggerating.

But to be honest, RJ just wanted some time to himself. He was still getting used to being part of a family, and it got really clogged and he felt he didn't have any privacy.

Not that he didn't like being part of one, don't get him wrong, he sure did love it. It was just, his nature forbade him to stay put and grounded forever. He was a raccoon, and they needed their space to roam and be, well, raccoons.

"Hey look at this! It's a piece of the vending machine. What is this doing here? Do you think-"

"Yes I do think. RJ, come out now, we know your there,"

One word.

Busted.

So with a sigh, RJ poked his head through the door, as he dragged his bag behind him. His face met a very unimpressed Verne, along with Stella, Ozzie, Heather and Hammy. The porcupines must be at home looking after the kids, since they needed more sleep.

Plus, possums were naturally nocturnal, so it mustn't have bothered them as much as everyone else.

"H-hey guys, what's up? What are you, doing here," RJ mentally slapped himself for stuttering, cursing the fact that he was nervous for something so small, let alone in front of his family.

"What are you doing here?" Verne asked, cutting the chase and getting straight to the point.

"Ahhhhh, nothing?"

"That's not an answer, and you know it RJ,"

"Ok fine. I was hungry and I came over here to get something to eat. Can you blame a guy for getting hungry?" RJ said in defeat, as he put both his front paws up on the edge of the slot, placing his head on top of them in a nearly begging motion.

"No, RJ, I can't. But I can blame you for giving the family a heart attack, thinking you had decided to leave us!" Verne sighed, slightly agitated, making RJ's eyes widen slightly and his eyebrow to raise.

"You know I would never do that! I love being part of your family, I just, need some time to myself is all," the raccoon said, as the others listened to the two's conversation.

"Alright RJ, you win. Just, don't go off any more like that, ok?" Verne said, not wanting to continue arguing.

"You know it," RJ replied, smirking slightly.

"Let's just get going,"

"Hold on, I have to get something first," the raccoon said, ducking back under as his family looked at each other, then walked up to the door.

"RJ will you come out of there, we already have food!"

"Just a sec!" RJ replied, grabbing on to the bottom shelf of the vending machine. It thankfully held, as he yanked himself up onto it.

The raccoon looked out the window, giving a victorious smirk at Verne, who stood there with his arms crossed and a foot tapping impatiently at the floor. The others seemed quite impress, at least. RJ shook his head as his smile grew wider, glancing back up at the food that awaited him.

He licked his lips in anticipation, as he grabbed another shelf. It also held, as he pulled himself up, feet scrabbling to get a good hold.

RJ stayed there squatting a little, as he grabbed the nearest bag of chips. His stomach rumbled, as Verne sighed so loudly even RJ heard from inside the vending machine.

"Hush, you'll get your food don't worry," the raccoon reassured, patting his stomach lightly, "Hey Verne, sigh any louder you'll wake the town up!" he shouted through the door, chuckling in amusement as the turtle face palmed.

RJ then opened the bag of chips, scooping a handful of some and shoving them into his mouth, as he threw the rest down along with the bag, into his golf bag.

Bull's eye.

RJ kept on munching at the chips as he casually made his way to another bag of chips, this time cheese flavoured. He grabbed the bag, and then threw it over his shoulder, scoring another great goal into is open bag. The raccoon kept whistling as he kept throwing bags over his shoulders into his, as the others looked on.

A chocolate bar, some Maltesers, a packet of Twisties.

All going down to the door.

"Ya sure ya don't need any help, RJ?" Stella finally asked, as RJ posed to push off.

"Yup, I'm sure. You guys can grab hold of the loot down there if you want and make your way back home if you want, I'll follow," RJ cried over his shoulder, turning his attention back to the top shelf.

Just one more packet.

He jumped, grabbing at the edge of the shelf. Caught hold. And then fell, as it broke.

The shelf came crashing down onto the raccoon, as he gave a little gasp of surprise.

This, wasn't good.

"RJ, are you okay?!" came a voice, as RJ tried to pull out of the shelf which was tightly wedged between the ceiling and the bottom shelf. The voice most likely belonged to Verne.

"Uh, yeah, alive at least. Just, umm, a bit stuck?" he answered, yanking on the edge trying to pull himself out. Not working.

He still kept at it, though, but it proved fruitless. He was stuck. Tight.

"Don't worry, we'll get ya out!" most likely Stella said. There was a slight scuffle as RJ tried to move the shelf to un-jar it, but it was still stuck.

"Yeah, I'm not worried. Being stuck with food has its upsides," the raccoon replied back, as he grabbed a lonesome looking Twinkie that had fallen out of its box.

RJ licked is lips, uncovering the cake.

Maybe this wasn't so bad.

Wrong.

He started to hear extra voices arriving, and the sound of his family frantically hiding away. The voices were approaching the vending machine.

Oh, shoot, it was humans.

The last thing RJ needed.

And, the first thing he did was stuff the Twinkie in his mouth. No way was he going to give it up. It was his favourite snack, along with Spuddies. Probably even more.

"What the?! Fred, I don't remember the vending machine like this!" RJ froze, as he limited down his breathing yet again.

"No, I don't. What could- Bob, look at that. Looks like we got ourselves a little thief!" the voice- Fred, said, making RJ gulp.

Busted.

"Go get the cage and a tranq, just in case. I'll keep an' eye on him," Fred said, ushering his partner away from the raccoon. Bob obeyed, running off to their office or something, probably. RJ didn't care, though. He had to get out of there! Fred was advancing on the door, and RJ pushed himself even further into the little cave-like place, until his back brushed the wall.

"Here now, lil' fella. Come 'ere, we aren't gonna hurt ya. We're just gonna give you a nice home," he said, pushing a hand through the slot and fingering for RJ. The raccoon eyeballed him wearily, analysing what a 'nice home' could possibly mean.

Either way, it meant time away from his family, and possibly the zoo, which RJ was not going to have. So as the hand made its way closer, until it was right near the raccoon's snout, RJ narrowed his eyes, and then bit the hand.

A scream was heard from its owner, as it was yanked out of RJ's mouth, leaving the raccoon gagging, and sticking his tongue out.

No way was RJ ever going to bite a human's hand again. It was disgusting.

No more time was left, however, as Bob arrived carrying a cage in one hand, and a tranquilizer gun and dart in the other. This made RJ's tail puff out slightly, as his pelt bristled in fear. He hated cages, and no way was he going to get into one. But he also didn't want to get shot, as he wouldn't be able to see where he was going, limiting his choices of escaping.

RJ gulped again. He had already bitten Fred's hand; so off course they were going to shoot him. It wasn't safe any other way.

Stupid humans.

RJ started to shiver, as they started unscrewing the door off of the vending machine with a new spanned he hadn't seen Bob carry in his pocket.

A couple of squeaks later, and they were able to pry the screen off, gently placing it on the ground beside them.

RJ heard a gasp from underneath, which was probably where his family was hiding. Maybe it was Stella or Heather, maybe Ozzie? Who knew, and RJ was too focused on the humans to worry. He had to get away from the dart.

"Here lil' raccoon, come to papa," Bob said, as Fred un-jarred the shelf from RJ. Said raccoon was about to run, when a dart whistled through the air, hitting his shoulder.

Darn it!

The tranq had shoot him, and it was only a matter of time before he went unconscious. He had to, had to get, had to get awa-

RJ's thoughts became blurry, as the world started to turn black. He staggered around in the vending machine, nearly falling off of it, as a hand closed around his middle, pulling him off.

"It'll be alright, fella. You'll be fine,"

RJ suddenly didn't have the strength to fight, and as his eyes shut, he heard a cry from underneath the machine.

Hopefully they don't find them, too, was RJ's last thought as he drifted into unconscious.

RJ's family was in a frenzy. It had all happened so quickly they hadn't even had a chance to blink.

At some point they heard hissing, (probably RJ) and then a human scream (probably Bob) and then a clank as something (probably the vent door) fell down, and then the gang gasped. Very loudly. They watched as RJ was carried off by the strange men over to their office.

"RJ!" Hammy cried, and Verne was quick to put a hand to the squirrel's mouth. They watched on in misery as the office door closed, sealing their friend and the humans inside.

"Well this just got interesting,"