Let's kick this dog and pony show off right, shall we?

Chaotix detective agency belongs to Sega ©

Haze the Chameleon and the main setting belong to Haze the Chameleon ©

The few clouds in the sky did not hinder the sunlight's attempt at having a great day. The citizens were bustling and the merchants were doing their best to peddle their wares. The local diner wasn't particularly busy this afternoon, as the only patrons were a pair of cats, one white the other violet sharing a meal of potatoes and fish nuggets at a booth. As well as a smoky grey chameleon sitting at a booth alone, drinking from a bottle of cola and eating what remained of a mystery meat sandwich. The aforementioned chameleon wore a white suit and pants ensemble, with a black undershirt and a white tie. He was often told that the era of disco had called, and they wanted their clothing back, but the chameleon was completely indifferent about the opinion of the other citizens. They all thought he was weird, but he simply marched to the beat of a different drummer. Another thing that made the townsfolk question the chameleon's sanity was the fact that he carried a weapon with him everywhere he went, which wasn't something unusual, as many people in the town held firearms in their homes for safety reasons. However, the chameleon did not wield a firearm or any sort, instead, he chose to carry a blade, a foot and a half long sword tied to his belt loop to be exact. The cold blooded being raised a hand in the air, a sign that he was finished with his meal and he was ready to pay, to which a waitress responded to momentarily. A quick jiffy later, he was outside, straightening his tie and swatting at his sleeves to loosen any crumbs.

"I guess I should head home. I don't really have anything else planned for the day." He thought, approaching the bike racks outside of the diner and reaching into his pockets for the keys to the lock of his particular bicycle.

The chameleon boy's bike, a black and pink striped bicycle was not something he was ashamed of, as he believed it helped set his mode of transportation apart from everyone else's, which is pretty useful in a place as big as West City. A town known for its seaside port and downtown market district, it was a lovely location to find a home. As the chameleon boy rode through the market district, he passed by bakeries, butchers, fruit stands and a fair collection of stores selling other fine products. A few senior citizens even took time out of their day to holler at him, with phrases such as 'wear a helmet', and 'how'd you find my prom suit'. The chameleon did not heed to these words, as he continued to cycle through at a quick pace. As he approached the port, he took a hard turn left, and redirected himself to an area adjacent to the port's busy harbor. While flowing through traffic, with the simplest of ease mind you, the young man approached a series of houses built over the beachside, each one as large and luxurious as the last. However, none of these were the destination of choice for the grey chameleon, as he past the homes with gusto, and continued down the fancy street. About 10 minutes had past, before the houses, harbor and city were nearly out of sight, the sight of large houses replaced with large oak trees, and a solitary single story home built far from the municipality, to ensure maximum privacy and freedom. The boy rode up to the door, before stopping and checking his mail box for mail, as he did everyday before leaving and every night upon return. A smile spread over his muzzle as he felt a large envelope, quickly withdrawing it and opening it slowly with great satisfaction.

"Haven't had any new jobs in weeks, this is bound to give me some excitement, and giver me something to do for the rest of the day." He thought, removing the papers within and examining them.

The papers held a photo of a white hedgehog whose bangs covered half of his face, sporting a business suit and shades, apparently a fan of driving under the influence, as he skipped bail and placed a hefty bounty on his head. His name was Mando Coleridge and he failed to appear in court, meaning that the chameleon boy, Haze the Chameleon was set to capture him and bring him to the prison house for a payment that made the chameleon lick his lips. Of course this meant returning to the city, which made Haze sigh as he picked up his bike and returned to West City. In the mean time, an elderly human couple was trying to solve a problem of their own, involving a certain white hedgehog in a business suit, who caused them quite a bit of a quandary. As it turned out, they were the owners of a jewelry store, and were met with an unwanted and inebriated individual who would cause them nothing but grief. They went into detail, while a larger green reptile read out of a document filled with pictures and files.

"This brute, this ruffian robbed us of a precious piece of property, a suit of armor made to look as if it were golden." The wife spoke, caressing her crying husband. "It wasn't even really gold, it was just painted like that, and we use it in our commercials."

"I've seen those commercials; they're the highlight of my days, aside from the actual television program." The crocodile said, his hands interlaced behind his head with both feet on his desk. The reptile spoke of a commercial wherein a golden knight would often be bested by various middle class citizens in finding fine jewelry at an affordable price. The commercials would often lead to comedic consequences for the loser. "Have you contacted the police yet?"

"Oh my, no. We've heard that the Chaotix detective agency was the best detectives around and we really don't want to bother with all of the trouble and questioning the police bring with them. We'd rather just skip to the chase, while we're still young." The wife continued, still embracing her sobbing husband.

The Chaotix detective agency's head was liking where this case would go, jewelry stores made mad cash, and an elderly couple would happily pay hefty sums for their property to be returned. With a nod of the head and the shake of a hand, the clients entered their car and drove away, back to their home, whilst the crocodile spun around in glee on his swivel chair. He stood up and shut the document, standing from his desk and making his way into the room on the second level, and without knocking, pushed the door open and threw the document onto the lap of a seated chameleon, who remained undeterred.

"Espio, we've got a case on our hands, I'll get Charmy while you get yourself up to speed. We leave in ten minutes." Vector said, slamming the door shut.

With a clap of the hands and a long sigh, Espio the chameleon picked up the document and began reading the notes his boss had written down. "Was this worth interrupting my meditation? I didn't think it was, but Vector thinks with his wallet." He thought, chuckling at little joke, but stopping when he realized that it wasn't funny.

The head detective opened the bee's room, seeing him in a sitting position in the middle of his room. Vector watched as Charmy slowly, but surely completed a somersault. His face lit up as he spotted his friend.

"Did you see that? Did you see it?" Charmy asked, bubbling with merriment. "I was cool, wasn't I."

"Yes yes, you're a dictionary definition of cool. Now, let's go, we have work to do." Vector responded, as the bee stood up and saluted as a retort of his own.

Moments later, the trio exited the agency, on the way to West city to apprehend the culprit and get paid. Vector couldn't help but giggle at how simple the job seemed, surely nobody would find use in a tacky medieval safeguard.

"Surely this 'Mando' guy would be more than happy to let us take it. Who uses armor anyways? We don't need it, this is the future." The croc rambled, flailing his arms about as he spoke.

"Well, the documents you had said he was intoxicated, so maybe he mistook that for a statue made of gold.' Espio replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"What's intokoxicated mean? Does it mean stupid?" Charmy interjected, his childlike naiveté getting the better of his professionalism.

"In a way yes. I'll tell you more about it when you're thirty, but for now, we need to find the suit and return it with little to no confrontation, like real detectives." Vector continued, putting a balled up fist to his chest while looking up, the image of pride.

The end of the first chapter, tune in for more later