Chapter 1
Five Years On
Illuminated by the soft pink-orange glow of the dawn sun, barely five minutes risen, the small grey-brown raccoon named RJ sat on a small black and blue golf bag with his back against the rough surface of a tree. With an idle stare toward the patch of mint-green grass blades between his legs, he chewed on fresh bite out of the double chocolate chip cookie held tightly in his fore-paws; not the most nutritious breakfast choice admittedly but damn those humans for filling it with so much sugary, chocolate goodness that it was practically irresistible to even the snobbiest of tastes.
Apart from the occasional rush of a motor vehicle somewhere behind the towering dark green hedge in front of him and the persistent twittering emanating from the frost coated leaves and branches of the lush woodland behind him, RJ was pretty much alone. In fact he had been that way for the best part of the last ninety-one days. That much alone time had grown tedious within the first twenty-four hours let alone the remaining two thousand one-hundred and eighty-four that he had spent in voluntary solitude braving the relentless pelt-shredding snow storms and bone chilling sleet while his new found friends hibernated in the safety and comfort of their log. Well, that was the story he was going to tell them anyway.
In truth he'd spent the entire winter hiding out in the back of a bakery downtown with another raccoon, who as it turned out had been treating the place as a kind of winter hideout for a lot longer than RJ had been in El Rancho Camelot. At first she had hadn't proven very hospitable but RJ had been able to negotiate a deal using nothing but wit and charm. Surprisingly it wasn't very long before their little truce turned to cohabitation; often sharing plenty of avid, often seamy conversations while they feasted on the variable smorgasbord of unwanted cakes and pastries in the garbage cans in the alley outside. Obviously he had had make up the whole "alone against the elements" story because the reality somehow lacked the heroic edge that he was going for.
With a sly smile RJ rested his head against the tree and threw the final chocolaty chunk into the air, watching with intense concentration as it arced above him, bounced off the tree and fell into his open mouth, breathing a contented sigh into the air as he chewed the final piece of the delectable, 'all natural' mixture of sugar, flour, water, eggs, butter, cocoa powder and two different kinds of chocolate chips.
"You can't improve on nature; hah, so true," he remarked with a chuckle, as he proceeded to brush of some the crumbs that had fallen into the downy, white fur that covered the entire front portion of his body from his groin up to his nose.
It was shame that no one ever seemed to be around to hear those, or maybe it was good thing, he couldn't quite tell sometimes; people tended to react differently to his perception of life's pleasures and the methods one should use to acquire them, especially since these methods usually consisted of just two concurrent actions: smash and grab.
"What is so funny?" a voice asked.
RJ leapt to his feet, alive and alert.
"Wh- who's there?" he called out, unable to hide the slight tremble in his voice.
"Relax raccoon, it is but I, Tigerias," the voice answered in a distinct Middle Eastern accent.
The raccoon's gaze snapped upward into the branches above where the voice appeared to be coming from. Just a few feet above him on one of the lower branches stood a slightly overweight Persian cat staring back down at RJ with an amused smile, his large, puffy, white body held upright on the branch by the grip of his razor sharp claws.
Grabbing a handful of the fur on his own chest, RJ let out a massive sigh of relief;
the cat was indeed Tiger. A flat-faced, short tempered but generally good natured cat with complete anosmia, who five years ago had left his life of luxury as pet to Gladys Sharp, the now ex-president of the Homeowner's Association for El Rancho Camelot Estates, to join RJ's rag tag gang of woodland animals. Of course this had nothing to do with the raccoon himself but more a deep, and to RJ completely incomprehensible, passion for a skunk named Stella who had played the part of temptress in the one of the gang's biggest heists to date.
"Why'd you sneak up me like that man?" RJ called back
"RJ, I don't sneak, I stalk. Sneaking is for scavengers," Tiger replied, "Scavengers like you."
"I guess that makes you better than me, eh?"
"Immeasurably so."
"Hah, I think you're gonna' need a second opinion on that one buddy," RJ replied, "Hey, shouldn't you be with Stella or somethin'?"
"Oh how I would love for that to be so," Tiger answered, casting wistful gaze into the heavens, "But alas my love still sleeps and I must wait for her glorious rise."
"Oh yeah, you cats don't hibernate do ya'?" said RJ.
"Of course not," Tiger answered.
"Me neither."
"Ah yes, no rest for the wicked is there?" Tiger responded contemptuously, "Knock over any good garbage cans this winter or maybe you perhaps preferred the scraps in the dog food bowls?"
"Oh stop," RJ replied in false abashment.
Tiger merely rolled his eyes and turned toward the hedge.
"Hey where you goin', we're just getting started here?" RJ called to tiger as the cat padded away across the grass.
"As much I do love this little get together I'm afraid I actually have somewhere to be," Tiger replied, pausing just in front of the hedge.
"Where?"
"Anywhere you and I are not talking!" and with that final remark Tiger disappeared into the towering leafy mass.
'Heh, man that cat is one strange mammal,' RJ thought to himself as he reached down to pick up the blue and black miniature golf bag on which he had been sitting, 'Why the heck was he followin' me anyway?'
There really was no point in pondering that question now. After all he would probably never figure it out anyway.
Sliding the bag strap over his right shoulder so that it ran down and wrapped around again at his waist like a small blue sash, RJ turned and headed away from the hedge and into the woodland. It wasn't a very thick forest, the trees were pretty widely spaced with very little undergrowth save for the grass that grew practically every where in tightly bunched patches and most of the winter snow had melted away by now leaving only a few lumps speckled across the landscape like shiny white landmines which RJ was wary to avoid. The grass itself was freezing and damp with melting frost which began to saturate the fur on RJ's hind paws as he moseyed through the woods whistling a jazzy little tune he'd heard on one of the many infomercials from the shopping channel. Unfortunately, entering from the west hedge effectively meant that he had to trek all the way through the woods to the east side, so it took him almost an hour to reach his destination, but it really wasn't any trouble at all for a raccoon on a sugar high from fourteen fresh-baked triple choc cookies and a full can of Mach 7 double-caffeinated energy drink and eventually RJ pushed his way through the last blanket of vine laden plant skeletons and walked out into the middle of a wide grove.
He now found himself surrounded by clear open air and an undisturbed blanket of frost coated grass blades that literally shimmered in the morning sunlight. Several feet ahead of him, atop a small incline he spotted the east-side of the hedge and to his right he eyed a small rippling pond with a sparse covering of flowering water lilies across which skimmed a multitude of multicolored aquatic insects. Turning to his left, RJ saw the large hollow tree log that lay just at edge of the woodland and he quietly ambled over to one of the openings to peek inside. Unsurprisingly he found it to be stuffed with tightly packed mass of dead leaves, which appeared to be snoring as well as being perforated by whole bunch of protruding limbs covered in a variety of fur colors. He knew all to well who these belonged to, especially the bushy, orange tail and for a few moments he stood and stared, suddenly gripped by an incredible temptation to tug on it and cracking a small grin at the thought of that particular mammal's reaction.
'Maybe next time,' he thought to himself as he slid the blue golf bag over his head and quietly set it down at the mouth of the log's cave-like interior.
Taking a few steps back from the log, RJ turned away and started toward one of the nearby trees with the most casual gait he could manage. By now all the caffeine from the Mach 7 drink had well and truly hit home and for RJ this meant the not so sudden onset of an all too familiar sensation. At first it been more of slight niggle at the back of his mind that he had found readily ignorable but as time passed the pressure had continued to build and without any more distractions it now hit him with full force.
"Ahhhhhh!" he exclaimed as the small yellow stream began to pitter-patter onto the side of a willow tree, "Sorry pal but when ya' gotta go, well, you know." As the pressure rapidly began to ebb away RJ began to relax his stance a little, gazing up into the overhanging mass of willow leaves. "Don't worry, I hear takin' a wiz on you's supposed to be good for you guys," RJ continued, in full awareness of the fact that he was talking to a tree, "I dunno why but the humans seem to think so. Something' about ammonia or some sciency stuff like that."
After shaking off the last few drops, RJ headed toward a small gap in the bushes at the north-west edge of the grove, ducking under some low hanging coniferous branches as he entered yet another small clearing. This one however was much smaller and much darker beneath a thick canopy of flourishing vegetation through which shone only a few flickering rays of sunlight. As usual there were a couple of beach towels draped over some nearby branches next to which stood a large green sign that read Welcome Home, and beyond that were numerous pieces of stolen human equipment. Perhaps the most noticeable item of this inventory of pilfered possessions was the large flat-screen television that was sitting atop a cardboard box, placed just in front of a small group of cushions and beanbags that in turn were clustered around a purple toddler car seat, or as RJ liked to call it, his throne.
"Heh, heh, home sweet home," RJ remarked, as he walked over to the box and snatched up the remote before flopping down into his seat.
Admittedly he was a little curious as to why, or more importantly how, the protective garbage bag had already been removed from the T.V but knowing this woodland it could have been anyone and RJ was not about to waste his precious free time interviewing every single animal out of the multitude of creatures which called the forest home. Unless the television wasn't working that is, then someone was going to have to pay up. Fortunately though, as RJ pushed the tiny red ON/OFF button on the remote the television flashed to life instantly and the sound of a wild police chase began to emanate from the television speakers.
"…and with his vehicle now rendered unserviceable the suspect makes for the embankment on foot but little does he know…" for no discernable reason the narration continued to graphically describe the on-screen image of a young man in a checkered flannel shirt and blue denim jeans as he raced across a road toward a grassy hill with two overweight police officers struggling to pursue him.
He recognized the show instantly as The World's Deadliest Police Chases, a huge favorite of the porcupine triplets and RJ himself, but this particular episode also happened to be the same one that he had viewed through a store window last night so he quickly flicked it over to another channel and was suddenly made witness to a screen full of human women clad in scandalously revealing black leather brassieres who were dancing around what appeared to be a fire station.
'Score!' RJ thought as he found himself starring wide-eyed at the group of human females who's every inch of artificially tanned skinned dripped with sweat as they pushed their chests and behinds toward the screen and sang in whispered tones about some boy they were inviting back to their place. 'I know your human baby, but man I'd take you up on that offer anyway,' and he began to formulate, through swirling images in his own mind, just a few possible ways in which he could go about it.
Suddenly the song began to fade out and the four promiscuous women were replaced by an ecstatic looking young man with spiked blonde hair, who looked like he was barely out of his teens. "Welcome back to MTV sunrise session and that was the Honeybeasts with 'Be My Fireman' from their début album 'Raw Sugar'. Next we have 'Rosetint' with the classic love anthem 'Forever You'-"
"Oh no we don't," RJ stated with scowl as he switched to the next channel, thoroughly crestfallen by the sudden departure of the awesome foursome and their highly entertaining use of fire-hoses.
For the next few minutes nothing particularly eye catching appeared as RJ partook in a brief channel surf before he finally switched over to the information index and began scrolling through the extensive list of channels and the programs they were currently presenting.
"Hey put on the news wouldjya'," said a slightly nasally voice with the strong Minnesotan accent that could only belong to Lou the porcupine, which RJ confirmed as he turned to his right and saw the bristly, light brown forms of not just Lou but his mate Penny as well; both of whom looked very drowsy and disheveled.
"Hey guys, what's shakin'" RJ called jovially, hitting the select button as the CNN channel was highlighted in yellow. In an instant the screen was filled by the image of a clean-cut man wearing a navy blue suite and similarly colored tie standing in front of a satellite shot of the Central America that was speckled with tiny symbols and numbers, "Looks like your just in time for the weather."
Lou merely responded with a yawn as he set himself down on one of the beanbags, and Penny did the same, both of them remaining pretty much silent with their chocolate brown eyes glued to the television screen.
"…and it looks like it's gonna be yet another sunlight shimmering day in L.A, with some sparse cloud moving in from off the coast later in the afternoon. Now as we move to the mid-west we can expect to see clear skies for most of the region, with some unseasonable lows expected for some central states thanks to that high pressure system which has been moving across from the west coast since last Tuesday but it looks as if some coastal areas might be in for shower or two..."
The presenter's voice began to fade into the background as RJ quickly found himself zoning, out despite his best efforts. He'd always found weather reports extremely boring since it was usually just the same-old-same-old with the occasional thunderstorm warning that never seemed to yield anything more than brief shower. He found it far more entertaining just to stare blankly toward the screen as he once again began fantasize about the four smoking hot babes from MTV. Yes they were humans, but it was springtime and man were his hormones going crazy this year, especially having spent the past five summers with nothing but himself, his paw and late night animal planet. Of course he'd had a few liaisons with various females during the winters, but the other two hundred and seventy-four days were torture.
"Jeepers!" exclaimed Penny.
For a moment RJ sat frozen in terror at the possibility that his brief fantasy may have woken up little RJ, but he was quick to realize, with immense relief, that Penny was still watching the T.V and was not gazing at anything between his legs.
"Didja hear that RJ?" Lou asked, turning to face the mildly stunned raccoon.
"H-hear what," RJ stammered.
"Them weather folks say we're in fer a bit o' nasty turn, a storm no less," Lou replied with slightly concerned tone, "Ya' think we should get ready."
"Let's leave that one up to Verne. He's the expert on worrying," RJ replied, "Where is old Verno anyway?"
"I think he's still in the log with the others," answered Penny "Why, ya' think we should wake em' up?"
"Nah, he needs a good rest. I swear he'd have stroke if he didn't have the winter hibernation to calm him down," RJ said as he stood up out of the chair and started back toward the grove, but pausing halfway to the exit, "Hey you guys seen Heather around?"
"No, uh, wait, actually, now thatcha' mention it, she was up kinda early," said Lou.
"More like a week early," Penny added, "I think the spring's finally startin' to get to her; she's at that age you know. When ya' really notice all the cute boys-"
"And those boy's start to notice all the fine lookin' girls," Lou cut in, gazing into his partner's eyes with a loving smile.
Penny laughed, "Oh Lou."
"Oh brother," RJ muttered under his breath as he turned away from the impending smooch-fest and continued toward the exit, ducking beneath the branches again as he walked out into a sunlit clearing.
About an hour had past but it was still pretty much the same as when he'd arrived, only now the sun sat a little higher in the sky and the grove was occupied by a variety of mammals who were walking around the clearing going about their usual wake-up rituals. Two out of three of Penny and Lou's now sixteen year old triplets were sitting by the food wagon, which was by now pretty much empty, each chowing down on one of the remaining breakfast burritos. Verne, a nervous, neurotic box-turtle, Stella and Tiger were standing by the pond apparently just chatting, and for once Verne seemed pretty relaxed, heck he was actually laughing at something. RJ walked further into the clearing and caught sight of third and final triplet, Quillo, behind the log making out with Mitchell, her boyfriend of about five months; as usual, Hammy was nowhere to be seen, although RJ was pretty certain that he was out searching in vain for the nuts he'd buried the previous year; honestly, why did he even bother? A few seconds later RJ spotted Ozzie, a mostly white-grey opossum and manically paternal father of one, who was currently lying on his stomach on the opposite side of the pond seemingly asleep. Sitting next to him at the edge the pond, with her hind paws in the water and her snowy-white fur sticking out at all angles like an old straw broom, was his daughter, Heather.
RJ casually strolled past the three chattering animals, giving a quick hello nod to Verne who replied with a smile and small wave, and began to circle the pond toward two opossums.
"'Sup Heather," RJ said as he approached, "Hey Ozman."
Ozzie weakly raised a paw in acknowledgment, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like hello.
"So how was hibernation?" RJ said as he sat down next to Heather allowing his hind-paws to join hers in the cool water, "Penny told me you were up pretty early this year, why's that?"
Heather didn't answer.
"Heather?" RJ asked, and he clicked his fingers next to her ear a couple of times in the hopes of raising her attention, "Hey Heather, talk to me. Are you ignoring me on purpose or something?" He waited a few seconds for a response but still Heather ignored him, "What? Is it something I did, something I said… something Verne said about me, something I said about Verne?"
Heather snuffed loudly and for second RJ thought he'd roused her attention, but it only turned out to be sneeze after which the young opossum returned her attention to the water. It was then that he noticed the small wire running down from her ear, and as he leant forward to investigate he noticed another one running from the other ear, both of them meeting and forming a single black line at her navel, where they then curved around to the other side of her body, most likely connecting to a Walkman or the like. He immediately reached forward and yanked the nearest one from her ear.
"Ow, hey, what the hell dad!" Heather exclaimed.
RJ couldn't help but smile as she faced him with a look of immense annoyance only to have her frown immediately change to a sheepish simper as she realized who he was and quickly turned away in embarrassment.
"Oh, sorry RJ," She mumbled.
RJ chuckled, "Don't worry about it. What are ya' listening too?"
"Um," Heather grabbed the player peered at it for a moment, "Greenday."
"Never heard of 'em," said RJ.
"They're pretty good," Said Heather, "Wanna' listen?"
"Uh, maybe later," RJ replied, "How was winter?"
Heather gave a loud yawn, "And that's my final answer," she giggled.
RJ laughed, "That bad eh? Well how about next year you join me for the winter. I'll show you all my favorite places like the bakery and the alley behind the supermarket, and when Christmas rolls around we can go dumpster diving for presents. Oh yeah, you've gotta' see Halloween, all the humans get dressed up in all this weird stuff, just so you can laugh at 'em, and best of all there's candy all over the place, in bags, in the trash, in the cars, in the street, it's everywhere. Think about it Heather, no hibernation, no stinky log, no Verne."
"Oh gee RJ, I'd love too but," Heather replied, turning to look at her father, who seemed to be pretty much asleep to RJ, before leaning in so close that her breath tickled his ear as she whispered into it, "Will there be anything else?"
A mischievous grin rapidly spread across RJ's face as he turned and looked directly into Heather's shimmering, sapphire eyes, and that in itself appeared to be answer enough for her as she leant forward as if to press her mouth against RJ's. The raccoon himself responded in kind bringing his own muzzle closer and closer to Heather's so close he could almost taste it. But suddenly a wide grin spread across RJ's face and he pulled away, chuckling loudly; he just couldn't bring himself to go any further, he just couldn't, not her.
"YES!" Heather cried, throwing her arms into the air in triumph, "I am the king of kiss chicken!"
"Don't you mean queen?" RJ chuckled.
"King sounds better," Heather replied, and RJ had to admit she was probably right.
A grassy brushing sound began behind them accompanied by a deep yawn, and RJ turned to see Ozzie sitting up behind them, and boy, if Lou and Penny had looked tired this opossum was positively beat. From the heavily matted condition of his fur to the crimson lines that spider webbed across both his eyes, it was hard to spot any part of him that looked even remotely healthy.
"Whoa, what ran over you?" RJ exclaimed, and he could hear Heather vainly trying to stifle a giggle behind him.
Ozzie gave a weak smile, "Good morning to you too RJ," he replied.
"I'm just saying, you look like you just spent an hour in the ring with Nugent."
"Who?"
"C'mon, you know Nugent the Rottweiler?" said RJ, but Ozzie just shook his head, "Uh, you know, the big ugly dog thing on 2nd avenue."
"No, nothing."
"Man how old are you, honestly?" RJ remarked, grinning slightly as Ozzie threw a dangerous glare his way, "Aw c'mon Oz, where's the fun?"
"Hmm, I think I left it in the food wagon. I'll just go get then shall I?" Ozzie replied, still frowning a little but RJ could see the sides of the possum's mouth twitching a little as he tried to hold back a grin.
Ozzie immediately got up and began making his way around the pond, toward the little red wagon where Spike and Bucky had now finished their breakfast burritos and moved on to a pack of caramel coated wafers.
Heather sighed, "You might want to watch your mouth around him RJ. My dad's actually getting a little sensitive about his age," she said.
"How old is he again?"
"Well, I just had my twenty-first pouch day and dad says he was about twenty-eight or twenty-nine when I was born, so he's about forty-nine now."
RJ gave an impressed whistle.
"Oh, come on he's not that old," said Heather, and RJ immediately began to laugh, "Well how old are you then wise-guy?"
RJ immediately fell silent having just been blindsided by a question that he himself hadn't actually given much thought to.
'That's a good question," RJ thought to himself.
"Well?" Heather asked, with a cunning smile.
'Okay RJ think, think! You left mom when you were thirteen, met Vincent, wait did I meet Vincent then… no that was a way later. Uh, when did I get the flu thing? …sixteen? No fifteen. When did Terry dump me again, six or seven years, either way that means I was twenty something when I found those quarters by the vending machine outside Vincent's cave, and that's when…Oh hell no! Thirty-two!"
"Thirty-two?" Heather exclaimed, making RJ realize that he had accidentally said that last part out-loud, "Wow, that's like way younger than I thought!"
RJ gave Heather a questioning look; she'd actually thought he was older than that!
"What the, how, the heck?" RJ ineloquently stammered, "Is it the fur, the ears, it's gotta be the ears, it's the ears isn't it?"
Heather laughed, "God you can be an idiot sometimes."
RJ opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by another adolescent voice as it entered the conversation followed very closely by another equally young voice.
"Hey uncle RJ!"
"Hey dude!"
RJ smiled broadly as he turned to the two teenage porcupines, Spike and Bucky, both of whom bore a short coat of fur that was exactly the same shade of brown as the parents and for some reason insisted on referring to RJ as their uncle despite the fact that he'd only met them five years ago and was certainly of no relation to them at all.
"Hey guys," he replied.
"Hi Bucky, hey Spike," said Heather.
"Hi Heather," they replied in unison.
"Sooo, how are my favorite pincushions?" RJ asked, reaching forward to wipe some burrito sauce off Bucky's face.
"Great."
"Super-duper, hey watch it there," said Bucky, also appeared to be adopting his father's accent as well as becoming a near carbon-copy in terms of appearance, "Watchu guys doin' over here."
Spike leaned in close to RJ and whispered into his ear, "You still trying to hit that?"
RJ merely responded with a sly wink and Spike immediately started sniggering.
"Hey Spike, what's so funny?" asked Heather.
"Oh it's nothing. You know how these guys are," RJ said shrugging.
Heather started eyeing RJ suspiciously.
"Uh, hey guys guess what I got for you!" RJ spouted in a desperate attempt to break the tension.
Heather just smiled and rolled her eyes; the porcupines on the other hand went completely ballistic.
"Nice, presents!"
"Jeepers."
"Wicked cool!"
"Awesome."
"Alright, alright calm down and follow me, you too Heather," said RJ.
Heather immediately looked up in surprise, which in itself was little surprising to RJ, how could she possibly think that he'd forget about his best friend?
"Oh come on, how could I forget my golden girl?" RJ remarked, as he stood up in his place.
Heather smiled and grabbed her music player as she stood up next to him, "Promise you'll like, never call me that again."
RJ chuckled, "I would if I could," and with that he began to make way around the pond and toward the log where he'd left his golf bag, with the two porcupines chattering excitedly to one another behind him as they followed. Heather on the other hand walked beside RJ, mouthing the lyrics of whatever song she now had playing through the newly replaced earphones; some angsty, teenage punk-band by the sound of it.
The other animals in the family appeared to have dispersed, most likely having joined Penny and Lou watching the morning news, and the clearing was pretty much empty now except for Ozzie whose tail RJ could see protruding limply from the one end of log as he approached. Given the loud snoring sound now emanating from inside, the opossum had probably fallen back to sleep, and unwilling to wake him, RJ momentarily paused to shush Spike and Bucky, whose excited chatter was merely reduced to excited whispering. He then snatched up his bag and indicated for the Heather and the porcupines to follow him over to the pond where he promptly dropped it again and immediately began to rummage through it.
"Aha!' RJ exclaimed as he emerged from the pitch darkness with both paws wrapped around a small, tightly bound bundle of magazines, "All the latest issues of Millennium Gamer, Wired and Motorhead!"
"Awesome!" the two porcupines cried in unison.
"And that's not all," RJ continued in his usual showy manner as he dropped the magazines into the waiting paws of the two ecstatic porcupines, before plunging his arm straight back into the bag, and giving a quick, meaningful glance in Heather's direction. Fortunately she appeared to get the message and hastily turned her back to proceedings, as RJ produced one last item; incidentally yet another, slightly smaller string-bound bundle of magazines. "You know what these are?" he asked, with a mischievous smile.
The porcupines' both nodded with wide eyed eagerness as their eyes fell upon the glossy sheets of the vividly illustrated and highly adult magazines.
"Whoa!" they both exclaimed.
"How'd ya' get those?" asked Bucky.
"Why'd you get them? We didn't ask or anything," said Spike, although RJ knew that was at best a downright lie as the two had been not-so-subtly hinting their desire for adult literature ever since they'd first discovered its existence amongst RJ's personal stash, which they had taken the liberty of pilfering almost four months ago.
RJ chuckled, "Well you're both growing boys and, well, I'm sure you know the rest."
Unsurprisingly the two porcupines shifted a little uneasily; and he could tell they knew what he meant. To be honest the memory of the three of them lying on the ground drunk, reeking of cheap booze and covered with the remnants of an assortment of alcoholic chocolates while being yelled at by their obviously furious parents was actually pretty funny. Of course RJ had only started seeing the humor in the whole incident after about two weeks of evil-eyes from Lou and Penny and almost three weeks having to get over his intense desire to beat the living snot out of the three of them.
"Just remember that this is a very special gift, the kind you don't go blabbing about to your folks, got it?" RJ stated under his breath.
"Got it," said Bucky.
"Well go on and have fun okay," said RJ, "Oh yeah, and, uh, keep it quiet, alright." RJ finished with a meaningful wink to the two of them.
Spike and Bucky just looked at him strangely for a moment before racing off with the periodicals clasped tightly in their paws.
"So, you finished degrading the youth and violating their parents' trust yet?" Heather asked with a sarcastic smile, as she turned around to face RJ who wasn't exactly surprised to see that one of her earphones had been removed and hence she been listening to the entire thing.
RJ just gave a confident laugh "Not just yet," and with that he once again plunged at least half of his body into the pitch dark depths of his miniature golf bag.
"Oh you got me some porn as well? God RJ, why don't you just go grab your camera and I'll get really drunk, then you can take all the pictures you want and we can just cut out the middleman?"
"Very tempting, Heather, maybe some other time, but in the mean time I think you should have this," RJ responded, emerging for the final time with a small bottle filled with a pale yellow liquid, clutched tightly in his right paw.
"What the heck is that?" Heather asked as she leant in for a closer look.
"You know I can't remember what it's called but the humans like the stuff, they like it a lot," RJ replied, "It's what their females wear when they go out on dates and stuff like that. They just spray a little on themselves before they hit town."
"It looks like someone pissed in the bottle," Heather remarked dryly.
Although he was little hurt, RJ tried not to let it show and just kept on smiling as he continued, "It's supposed to make you smell nice. You know, it being spring an' all I just thought you'd, you know, like to smell good for the guys. Well the guys you're going to meet and well…"
Heather scoffed, "And like, how many male possums have you seen around here lately. Like in the last five years."
RJ opened his mouth to comment but Heather cut across him,
"Exactly. None! Not a single one. And you think that I need Casanova himself to come over here and not only remind that it's springtime, but rub it in my face with some fancy smelling liquid and mouth off about all the guys that I won't ever get in my whole fricken life!" Heather paused giving a widely grinning RJ a puzzled look.
"I'm not buying it," he remarked.
"Where did I lose you?" Heather asked, her prior frown replaced by a curious smile.
"Uh about four and half times last fall," RJ replied with a smirk, he was of course referring to the culmination of Heather's relationship with her latest boyfriend, Keith.
Although she had tried her best to keep the latest step in their relationship a secret, RJ had been pretty quick to catch on, incidentally so had Ozzie, although Heather only knew that RJ knew, which in itself was actually pretty amusing because the two of them still went out of their way every time to assure Ozzie that the relationship was still completely superficial. In these moments RJ and Ozzie would usually exchange sarcastic winks whenever Heather wasn't looking.
"Shut up," Heather exclaimed, casting a wary glance toward her father who was still soundly asleep in the log, "Just give me the damn thing before dad wakes up."
RJ quickly passed the bottle into her waiting paws, "Here ya' go kiddo," he whispered.
Heather immediately started toward the northwest clearing, stopping just short of the conifer overlooking the entrance.
"Wait, what do I do with it?" she asked.
"You spray it on yourself," RJ replied, "Just a little though, it's pretty strong stuff."
"Spray on, got it," Heather said, giving RJ a wink of acknowledgment before she turned around and disappeared into the underbrush.
RJ sighed and grabbed up his bag, quickly snatching out a small piece of notepaper before sliding it over his shoulder again. On the notepaper was a crudely drawn map of a nearby suburb, sketched by RJ himself, with a number of the houses circled in red. It was these houses that he intended to target for the family's heists this year, and being situated in one of the previously untapped areas they were especially poorly guarded, so if all went well RJ expected to have the food stores full before the week was out. He was particularly eager to get this gathering season out of the way as soon as possible because, quite frankly, he had far more important things on his mind this year, first and foremost being to find himself a new set of golf clubs since his current set were beginning to wear a bit and the chrome finish that he had so dearly treasured had long since weathered away.
With that RJ immediately set off toward the conifer tree under which Heather had disappeared, already mentally preparing his usual season beginning speech to the rest of the family.
At last I have finally managed to finish chapter 1 after so much revision and procrastination. I hope you enjoyed it.
It might take me a while to finish Chapter 2 since I've decided to go fishing for the parts of the original comic written between 1995 and 2000; if by any chance anyone here knows where I could find them then please send me PM with the details because for the life of me I cannot find anything, and don't bother sending me to hedgeweb .com coz, all pangs of nostalgia aside, that sight is officially dead. Lord knows I wish I knew then what I knew now, but the movie was 11 years in the future and it took a further 2 for me to start giving a crap. CURSE MY YOUTH!!!
Yes, I do hope to compromise between the comic and the movie in this story, and call me crazy if you want, but I am actually trying to research what I'm writing about.