Disclaimer: Still doing stuff…that has something to do with stuff.

As far as Kitty was concerned, it had been a good thing that Dudley conquered his fear of thunder. If there's one thing she didn't need on this stormy night, it was her partner flaking out on his duties.

The Chameleon had escaped from prison yet again and he was wearing his hypermorphic suit yet again. He glanced out from the alley in which he was hiding. A pair of headlights approached. Thinking fast, the Chameleon changed into a dumpster and inched himself along the wall.

The headlights belonged to Kitty's cruiser. She peered down the alley. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she continued on.

Kitty spoke into her wrist communicator. "No sign of the Chameleon here. How about you, Dudley?"

"Yeah, I got nothing." On the roof of an apartment building, Dudley peered down into an alleyway. He lit up at seeing the dumpster. He'd had a few too many drinks of water and the constant downpour wasn't making things easy on him.

He slid down the metal pole that ran alongside the building and landed on the ground in a heap. He picked himself up and glanced around cautiously.

"Phew!" Dudley approached the dumpster and lifted his leg. With a sigh, he…well, at the moment, rain wasn't the only thing hitting the side of the dumpster.

"Oh, gross!", the dumpster exclaimed.

"Is someone there?" Dudley took a frantic glance around. The dumpster started to change. Dudley watched as the trash receptacle took a different form, that of the Chameleon.

Dudley grabbed the lizard with one paw and used the other to grab his communicator. "Kitty, I got him!"

"Great! Where are you?"

"In the alley on Bridge Street."

Kitty made a U-turn and turned back onto Bridge, meeting Dudley in the alley.

"Great work, Dudley."

"Eh, you know. You have to be cunning when catching criminals."

"You're sick!", exclaimed the Chameleon as he struggled in Dudley's paw.

"Give it up, Chameleon." Kitty neared the two males, a blaster gun in one paw and a pair of handcuffs in the other. "You're going back to jail and those Letters of Transit are going back to the World War II museum."

"Au contraire, Agent Katswell. Those Letters are going back to me and I'm going to a tropical island once I can find a buyer for the letters on eBay."

"It doesn't matter how much Spanish you know. It's over." Dudley rested his free paw on the metal pole. Once she was close enough, she holstered her weapon and grabbed the Chameleon's arm, cuffs raised.

The Chameleon thought hard about changing into something small enough to get away. A bolt of lightning struck the metal pole, electrocuting agents and criminal alike.

The Chameleon laid unconscious. It'd certainly be no problem getting cuffs on him, now.

Laying against the wall, Dudley grabbed his head. Through his blurred vision, he could barely make out a white figure shaking its own head.

"Oh, man. What happened to me?"

"I don't know. I-" Kitty gasped.

Dudley's vision readjusted. Across the alley from him was a shapely white-furred whippet who stood to her paws and glanced down at herself. "Okay, one, how did I get over there and two, when did I get hot?"

"Dudley, it's me! Kitty!"

"Come on, Kitty. Even I know that you're not a dog, and…" Dudley looked down at his paw. Claws emerged from them. "Kitty, am I looking at claws?"

"Yes."

"Is this because I'm a cat?"

"Yes." Indeed, Dudley was a tom cat with orange-brown fur.

"Okay. Just wanted to be clear." Dudley quickly fainted.

Kitty handcuffed the Chameleon. As she helped Dudley to the cruiser, she thought to herself, 'Did Dudley just call me hot?'.

"…and then, we woke up like this. The Chameleon is back in prison and his suit is in the archives." Despite the radical change that she had undergone, Kitty knew that losing her cool about it wouldn't help matters. Her delivery of the report was as professional as ever.

The Chief simply stared at his agents, a litany of expressions running across his face. They pretty much amounted to this: "Okay, explain how the two of you switch species again?"

"I figure that the Chameleon's suit affected us somehow. Now, Chief, we shouldn't let this affect how we perform."

"I guess not." The Chief turned to Dudley, nearly catatonic ever since he fainted. "And what about you, Agent Puppy?"

Dudley opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He then screamed. "I'm a cat!"

"And what's wrong with being a cat?" Kitty stared daggers at her partner.

Dudley retreated from his hysteria somewhat. The wrong comment could make this worse for him. "Nothing. It's just…I was born a dog, and, you know…" Kitty couldn't make out the rest of her partner's explanation, as he mumbled it in gibberish.

"Anyway, this isn't a problem. I feel as good as I've ever felt."

Checking a clipboard, Keswick shuffled into the office. "Still, Agent Katswell, I'm going to need to run some te-te-te-tests."

"But Keswick-"

"No buts. A species change isn't quite the same as a headache. It could have severe repercussions for you or Agent Puppy."

Kitty stood up. "That's crazy. What possible repercussions could this have?" The men's eyes were drawn to her backside. Besides the obvious, her tail wagged excitedly. Kitty glanced behind her. Her tail drooped downward as she noticed it. "Okay, that could take some getting used to."

"But I don't wanna get used to this!"

"Chin up, Agent Puppy! It could take a while to get you back to normal, but in the meantime, you and Agent Katswell still have to keep Petropolis safe."

"Ch-ch-ch-Chief! Can I see you outside for a moment?"

"Fine." The gruff flea followed Keswick out of his office.

Kitty put a reassuring paw on his shoulder. "Dudley, you're making too much out of this."

"Am I?"

"Yes. Just you wait. I just know that Keswick has a way to change us back."

The Chief leapt up in anger. "What do you mean, you don't know how to change them back?"

"Just what I said. Something like this is a on-on-one in a million. You don't even see this happen in cartoons."

"Well, what can we do?"

Keswick shrugged. "I suppose we could try to recreate the experience with the agents and the Chameleon."

"That is the dumbest idea I've ever heard!"

Keswick rolled his eyes a little. "Until I can think of something dumber, that'll have to do."

Petropolis Prison. Just thinking about the criminals housed within its walls was enough to make anyone nervous.

Of course, a T.U.F.F agent knows no fear, which was good, for Dudley and Kitty made their way down the cell block. Accompanying them was the warden and a guard, who was understandably taken aback to see the agents in their altered states.

"Thank you for doing this. Granted, these are…strange circumstances, but we have a feeling that this could be the only way to put ourselves back."

"It is irregular, Agent Katswell, but I shall help you." The guard banged a nightstick on the bars of a jail cell. "Chameleon, you have visitors!"

However, there was no response.

The guard banged again. "Chameleon!" The four of them peered into the cell. Nothing but a bed and a toilet.

"I want this door open." The guard did as he was instructed, undoing the lock with a key. The warden and the guard searched the cell as best as they could.

Dudley and Kitty, meanwhile, stared with dejected looks.

Against the ceiling of the cell, the mortar seemed to shift, as if it were alive. No one seemed to notice this, so wrapped up were they in the Chameleon's disappearance.

There was an irregularity in the look of the mortar, then the brick outside the cell. Whatever moved along the walls seemed invisible to the naked eye.

"My apologies, agents", the warden started with a grave tone. "The Chameleon has escaped."