Howdy. Hello. Salutations, Whatever. This is separate from the others, I've decided to post each chapter for the story a little differently.

So here's the next one.

Enjoy the suspense. Oh and before I forget here's the summary:

The Cramdilly Household has a new enemy. DT! What do you think will happen? Who exactly is 'DT'!? Can the Cats and Hovis outwit a greater, obviously FAR more insightful and higher intellectual before he or it kills them off one by one? And just HOW do you beat someone like that anyway? Tune in to find out.

(This is unimportant but, I passed my exams at school. In "International Relations" I got a B- on the Exam. Whoo!)

A Plot Twist, Part 2: Gleaning

Previously.

"My name is 'DT'. And I am real. You see my furry friends; I'm inviting you to play my game. Why?-

I'll make this simple. I'll be your enemy. I live in California same as you do. So then, GUESS. Who am I? Well? WELL? I guess you can't. There are a million people in California. If you find me, you win. You don't, I'll find you all one by one, and kill you slowly, too. Hell, you DO find me, I'll tell EXACTLY how it is I kill. With that, have fun and good luck. You'll need it."

"Creep," Waffle meekly replied.

"What exactly did he mean by saying he'd become our enemy?" Gordon asked, still a little shaken after having to watch that.

Blik who had done some serious thinking said not to his brothers or anybody in particular or to himself. He grinned and said, "This is perfect."

"What!?" both Waffle and Gordon cried in confusion.

Blik laughed and said at the T.V. box, "So you think you can kill us, huh? Think it's THAT simple!? NO half-wit, pipe-sucking, brain-fried computer NERD is going to take us down without a fight!! Yes. Yes. That's Right. The Chumpy Chumps couldn't stop us, so what makes you think YOU can just waltz on in and mess with my brilliant mind!?"

Hmm. So then the first whose identity is revealed will die. I wonder if these complete Imbeciles can honestly defeat an enemy who is clearly leagues above them, Hovis thought with fiendish doubt. He sighed but Mr. Blik hadn't heard him. He thought I might have to get involved.

Mr. Blik, selfish and defiant and obnoxious and with rising confidence in his ability to be better than everyone else screamed out into the heavens,

"HEAR ME OUT, 'DT'!!!! I AM…. JUSTICE!!!"

Present.

The Screen flash waned, and turned off with a blip. The room was utter darkness. In fact, it couldn't have possibly been any darker unless the person shrouded within was of an equally dark personality and demeanor. This character spaced out for a few minutes, to clear all the unnecessary clutter of incoherence and abnormalities occupying the space in his mind. When he was able to, he reached an insubstantial theory he tucked away until this moment.

His hand was raised towards his mouth and picked at the sickly dead skin hanging on his lower lips. He stopped and reflected. He had dark brown hair and a frail-looking body. Occasionally he grunted and mused both openly and silently. He played scenarios over constantly with various results. He envisioned them with vivid gusto and rapid tenacity; sometimes he even frightened himself. There was red/black tint in his both his eyes and wide grin or frown plastered on his mouth, he elicited something between a weak, gleeful grunt. Whenever he panicked, partied, acted happy, or experienced any feeling, bad things always happened.

After all… he was the killer.

But he had no way of knowing if Mr. Blik and his brothers chose to play. No one was gifted with that kind of insightfulness. Oh, but he ever so loved the idea of messing with people's heads. All his senses TINGLED as he cleverly set up every little detail of his plan to the letter, and when it all played out just as he predicted it would, the unlucky sap sent tumbling towards his or her doom like lambs to slaughter, priceless. People had their pleasures, but nothing compared to this; his blood chilled. It was like watching a show; it had never felt so amazing.

Maybe that was enough to go on.

Behind him came a creak and the door opened. Groggy, though thickly accented voice uttered, "You sent out the message again, didn't you?" It wasn't an unkind voice, but the sort to lead to believe that its' source was a familiar being well accustomed to the loss of life taken by this young man. It was strange figure indeed. He had the appearance of a dog, but had sandblasted eyes and rough, brown fur clinging to him from all sides. He wore a second outfit, one that didn't neatly cover his bushy tail.

"Perhaps," said he. "I think they'll play with me today. It's going to be so much fun."

The coyote smiled grimly. "Think you'll come out again on top as usual? The cops will be wary…"

"As always." He licked his lips. He sure did look forward to savoring the sumptuous fruit.

Meanwhile…

Things certainly livened up quite a bit around the Cramdilly household. Not long after 'DT' proclaimed his threat and challenge to the cats, all Mr. Blik became fixated upon was solely besting and surpassing their grand opponent. Every so often, a grin crawled over Mr. Blik's placid demeanor, like he was really enjoying it.

"Perfect. Absolutely freaking perfect. A new enemy. And right in our neighborhood. Tch… heh, heh, heh, heh!!!"

The only problem was Hovis saw nothing funny about this at all; or the fact that this sudden, (albeit not as shocking) personality switch in his diminutive master caused the sudden eagerness to find this inappeasable madman.

Hence why Thursday he had been asked in advance to come down to the lab (Nightclothes, and all) in the second basement at the godforsaken hour of 4:30 in the morning; a truly bad deal.

"Let's review the facts. This bastard. He calls himself, 'DT'. Who EXACTLY is 'DT'?" Mr. Blik spouted out the question with such energy, as if he expected somebody to answer. Truth was, Hovis anticipated that there was no need. He was right. Silence reigned.

Blik smoothed over the awkward moment by slickly rubbing a finger at his chin, then made a grin. He was loving every second of this. With glee he kept going on with, "One of the people in California is 'DT'! And that person is trying to kill us!"

Standing on the side, the 43-year-old cleverly disguised his disbelief and scoffed inwardly at the ever-obvious ingenuity of Blik; in his mind ran the thought, who in their right mind would honestly believe such nonsense!?

And the answer was, obviously Mr. Blik.

Blik typed several keys below on the pad of the 50-inch screen computer, aptly though poorly titled, "MASTER SURVEILLANCE GIGATRON X-3000" and the darkness crumbled away before the glaring, pixilated lights. Blik typed in more keys with a wicked eagerness and the picture was of the world at large- or on a smaller scale, just outside the Cramdilly residence, over on 23rd at Bingham Rd, zooming towards downtown Bakersfield, the bustling city with stone-faced buildings that were coincidentally poised just so that they facing the Southwest. A few of generic looking house with colorless, dully people doting along their way dotted the trail. Made sense. It was morning, after all.

How perfect was this! Such a lovely assorted array of daft and listless masks and 'DT' could have been hiding behind any one of them!

Blik knew the time for the search had begun. He hadn't the gall to bother his brothers. They would remain asleep. They were blissfully unaware that Blik would be soaking in the thrill of chasing down a fool who dared to taunt such brilliance, such intellect, such mastermind.

"Now then, my fat-headed, hideously unwise opponent," Mr. Blik hissed darkly under his breath. "Come at me. Show me where you are."

Gordon was definitely aware of Blik's location up until yesterday. It was a private room that had multiple bolts and iron bars sealing away any who dared approach. Blik had so designed that door that only he could get in. Because Blik knew the code to that particular door; he's never told anybody else, not even Waffle, far too simple-minded and good-natured to carry anything greater than a Comic-book level secret. It was Blik's own little way of "keeping tabs" on any coincidental suspect. And thinking about that room surfaced a discomfort the steel-hearted 'warrior' couldn't quite put off.

But he sighed, grabbing his light-weighted tan overcoat that sat like a daintily hanging leaf on the withered branch of a tree. His confidence in Blik's ability failed him incredibly, but what was to be done? Unlike Blik, he started out at 5:30, already interpreting Mr. Blik's moves and absence of Hovis at this time.

It didn't seem as hard slipping out the front door. Nor ducking headway through a series of bushes popping out into other resident's yards and stealthily racing along the shadows to hide his own.

Finally, he was a good 45 minutes away after he had escaped the house, and certain spots where Blik was infamously known to frequent. The reason? Blik placed cameras at certain angles all over, cleverly disguised. There would have been no way that Gordon could've run off on his own without his sneaky pestilence of a kin fully aware. For what had to be done, secrecy was a luxury Gordon couldn't mislay.

There was no way that Blik could handle this threat alone. But his stubborn nature would permit none to help, not even Hovis. Of this Gordon was certain.

Only one person downtown would have the smarts to help them now.

At least, that's what Gordon believed.

Hopefully.

A/N: Yes, I am such a peeve. I love suspense now. I have a good Idea where I want the story to head. Again I ask you this, (Feel free to punch my lights out for this redundancy.)

WHO exactly is 'DT'? Well? Well!?

There is an obvious answer, but then THAT answer is too obvious. Try thinking outside the box. You've seen my earlier pathetic attempts, so you know the inside of my mind. (Partly)

I'll give you a hint: trying asking Xegrot.

And whom exactly is Gordon going to go see for help? And throughout all of this, what in the world is happening to Waffle at home?

Tune in to the next fanfic to find out.