THE TOONTOWN CONSPIRACY 2: DARK MASTERS
A word from the author:
Hi guys! This is the sequel to my first story, The Toontown Conspiracy, so please read it first. I'll explain some things, but I don't want to go into large paragraphs about toons I've already introduced. Also, please know that I'm grateful for my fans and am glad that they have supported me, so without further ado, let's begin.
Chapter one
Fowl Play sat in his office. After saving Toontown from Flippy, the previous mayor who had been turned evil by a dangerous mental illness known as the Bloodlust, Fowl Play had been elected into office.
Fowl Play had once again had a nightmare the previous night about the events that had taken place two months ago. His true love, Barnacle Bessie, had sacrificed herself to save Toontown from a nuclear warhead packed with Hydrogen bombs just waiting to detonate.
He had seen the last moments jumbled up; through the entire event, the screaming of his loved ones played, like a song. He saw blood oozing out of a friend of his, I See Tea, and then countless bodies lying down as fighting took place. Finally he saw Bessie, lost forever, jumping at Flippy.
He tapped on the desk, having nothing to do. To take the terrible pain away, he had worked on all of his paperwork, giving himself only time to eat Breakfast, Dinner and occasionally Supper. He skipped Lunch.
Tap tap tap.
He stretched and got up. He thought for a moment; a project he was working on had to be finished. He wondered how he was going to go about this; was it the usual bottled up emotions, or should he mix it up with a few tears while doing it? Hey, why not go crazy and just weep?
Fowl play opened his desk and picked out a list. He started writing in it.
By the time he was finished, it was time for him to meet Duke Sleepfish, head of the Toontown Bank. He put a suit on, and a top hat. He had to appear fancy for this occasions. How ironic was it, he thought, that politicians represented all of Toontown, especially the lower class toons, yet only ever wore things the very top class wore!
He opened another compartment in his desk. He knew all too well that assassination attempts could be tried at any time by any toon, and self defence was a must. He found his Desert Eagle and slid it into a special pocket, and finally gulped down some coffee. How boring the meetings could be ranged from one to ten, and he predicted this one would be off the charts; a little help staying awake couldn't hurt.
He arrived at the meeting room in his armoured car, flanked by several bodyguards, which had not been a request of his, since he liked to feel welcoming. Just because he was broken didn't mean anybody else had to be.
He pulled up and entered the room hesitantly. It was just him and the Duke, and as good intentioned as the Duke may be, he was rather annoying.
He plastered a smile on his face and shook his hands with the sienna dog.
"How are you, mate?" Sleepfish asked. Chit-chat wasn't his field, but he couldn't be as obnoxious as he wanted to.
"Oh, just fine." Fowl Play sighed. "Now let's get down to business."
"Right, right. Our markets have crashed, and I'm afraid I've got an idea why. You won't like it, and it may sound crazy, but….." He trailed off, looked around nervously. He finally continued.
"Fowl Play, I think somebody's trying to assassinate you. The evidence is screaming out… Bad things have been planted about you in the media, and people stare at you, more than they ever have at other mayors. But the thing is, people have stopped buying things ever since all the gun stores closed down. Less money is taken. I think you're in danger, Fowl Play, I seriously do." Sleepfish told him worriedly.
"Wh-what? Tha-that's crazy!" Fowl Play nervously laughed, but involuntarily let his hand drop to his pocket where he held the Desert Eagle.
There was an awkward silence, and Fowl Play thought he heard ticking.
"Hey, Sleepfish… are there any clocks here?" Fowl Play asked.
"No…" Sleepfish muttered, looking at him oddly.
Suddenly, Fowl Play saw Sleepfish turn into Flippy, holding a gun to Barnacle Bessie's head. The world spun around and he collapsed.