Sequel to On Planet Wonk

A/N: Okay, my first Tracer Bullet Story. Oh dammit, I just let my Dad read and he actually REGRETTED BUYING ME THAT CALVIN AND HOBBES 20TH ANNIVERSARY. DAMN HIM. Now you guys know why I hate my parents.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Calvin and Hobbes.

The Case of the Character Correction Facillity

The man's voice hit a pitch I never thought possible unless he was a Dame. I could have called him a Duke but then again, I'm not some attendant for a fancy party or something, I'm a Private Eye.

The name's Tracer Bullet.

I heard the neighbours having a sort of yelling contest of some sort; their shouts rang through my head like an old-fashioned telephone with a broken ring tone.

I heard my buddies shaking in their shoes, if they were wearing any.

Yeah, I have two buddies, they're real close. They don't usually get jumpy, especially for an 8-inch gin bottle and a business partner who didn't like to mingle a lot with my cigarette. He's very close for an automatic .45.

Just then the door swung open, like it usually did. I'd expected the brunette Dame, but this time, she'd decided to be more prominent on the hiring Goons deal.

They had a case for me, and it was clear to me that they wanted no monkey business.

I told them they were lucky this wasn't a zoo. I heard the Dame tighten the grit on her teeth. Cases never went well with Brunettes, Brunettes and married couples, and just my luck, these two distant companions were that exact match.

It was then that I noticed someone had jumped the Hired Goon, his head was covered in a mass of white glop, I identified it as snow. I calmly asked if that was their case but it seemed they were particularly touchy when it came to facts about the weather.

The Dame showed her pushiness right about then.

I was shoved right on down till I reached the black top. I wondered why they'd shown me this piece of economical evidence, but I figured, it was better not pondering their outlandish choice of venues.

It seemed the hired Goon had bailed on the Dame at the last moment but she didn't seem very aware about that. I didn't think much of it at first, but when I saw the giant vehicle ride past and nearly blow off my hat, I realized it was a bus.

The Dame didn't have a case for me at all! It was all a set-up to bring me to a character correction facility, I'd just been there last week after setting fire to my broker's hair, it appeared he used flammable shampoo. Who would'a thought.

My business partner offered to handle the compromising so I allowed him to make a few insightful opinions before excusing myself.

I wandered down the alleyway wondering what to do, I considered moving to Iowa but it appeared there were too many Private Eyes there already.

All of a sudden, I was jumped by a thug from the shadows; he practiced for his upcoming piano recital of my spine and left me unable to play a single note. Some help.

When I awoke, my vision was a little hazy but I realized I had a more important case at hand. Questions raced through my mind.

Who was the quack who had hired the Dame and the Hired Goon to set me up? Why did they want to send me there? How was I going to get back in time to feed my cat?

It was then that the answer struck me like an oncoming car in a two-way traffic junction.

I saw the shadows appear on the wall of the alley, the Dame and the Hired Goon were after me!

I raced back to my office like a bolt, or as fast as a bolt wearing a thick heavy overcoat and a nasty tendency to fear of dropping his hat could go.

I searched through my many files on his information, before realizing that was unnecessary since he lived right next door.

I picked up an old buddy of mine just before the Dame jumped in with another buddy of hers. A hired bouncer.

My buddy and I were bounced all the way to the character correction facility before we even got a chance to breathe.

I was late, apparently, as I checked up the files in my office once more, I had finally cracked the case, the man behind all this was none other than Prince of Purle. I closed the case.

As for my buddy, he was more than happy to keep me company until we were released.

The End

A/N: Well, that certainly was stupid. I spent two days writing this. I hope you people like it. If you don't get it, just mention it and I'll tell you. Please review. I'll try doing Stupendous Man another time. Ack, detective stories are hard. Especially the way Bill Watterson writes them.