Chapter 1:
The Boss sat in office, pondering about this new development when a knock on the door broke him from his trail of thought. He swiveled to face the door.
"Enter."
He had a deep commanding voice with a slight hint of a Russian accent. The door opened and in stepped a slender middle aged woman. Moderately attractive with long black hair and an almost pale green complexion, she wore a navy blue pinstripe suit with an equally blue wide brim fedora. Followed closely was a tall lanky middle age man. He had a long face with short black hair and a wispy moustache that connected into a twisted beard. He wore a red dress shirt with a black tie and a black vest and pant combination with a short rim black fedora. As the man closed the door his counterpart took a seat and looked up at her boss.
"What's going on sir?"
He waited for the other man to sit before responding.
"I assume then you have not seen the news."
He watched as the pair looked at each other and then back at him. The male spoke this time.
"No, unfortunately not. What's going on?"
Instead of speaking the Boss simply turned around and picked up a television remote. He turned it on and flipped channels before reaching a news station.
"... In other news Ronno "Longhorn" Stag was taken into custody today after being caught red-handed holding precious Jewels from Madame Medusa's Jewelry Emporium. After being caught he-"
The T.V. flickered off. The Boss slowly swiveled and looked at the two in his office before swiveling back and looking out the window.
"Deal with him. Now. I do NOT want any links back to us, understood?"
Almost instantaneously the duo stood up and as if they were one person and nodded.
"Yes sir"
"Right away sir"
As the duo left the office the Boss slowly got up from his seat and looked out the small figures below. As if talking to an old friend he smiled slowly.
"Look at these fools, living there pathetic lives unaware that soon I will be their master and ruler. Soon, very soon. But until then, l will leave these insects to live their dismal existences."
Down at the Anaheim Police Station- Lunch Room
"Hey Mick!"
Walter "Mickey" Mouse, better known simply as Mick, was the newest member of the Anaheim Police Force, or the A.P.F. Like his last name, he was a relatively small guy, only about 5'4, weighing about 110 pounds. He was in his early twenties and had a round face with short messy black hair, a pair of deep brown eyes, and a small button nose. But these traits did not hinder Walter out in the field, but rather only made him more determined to be the best he could be. He was optimistic, cheerful, but when dealt with crime and pain, he dropped the cheerfulness and replaced it with a dark, stern attitude. He wore a brown suit jacket and pants with a white dress shirt. Mickey turned around and saw his buddy Horace Mayfield walking toward him with a pair of coffee cups in his hands. Mickey nodded at Horace before returning his attention to the case file in front of him. Horace was a tall guy, about 6'2, somewhat lanky and a bit goofy looking. He was somewhere in his late 30's, having medium length brown hair and green eyes, and whenever he talked a slight southern accent could be heard. He wore the standard navy blue police officer uniform minus the hat. As Horace pulled up a chair beside him Mickey shook his head before looking at Horace and taking one of the cups.
"Jesus Horace three robberies within the past six days, and only one suspect in custody. This case is going nowhere fast, and Ronno is just a goddamn idiot."
Horace simply chuckled.
"You mean a goddamn STUBBORN idiot."
Mickey looked at Horace with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee and nodding.
"Yup. Stubborn too. But the problem is he ain't gonna talk. Ozzie's working on him but I doubt he's getting anywhere with him. Come on, let's check up on him. Besides I gotta put this file back into the room."
Mickey quickly closed the file tucked it under his arm before standing up and grabbing his cup of coffee. Horace followed suit. They walked a few feet before Horace looked down at Mickey with a smile.
"So how's Minnie doin?"
Mickey looked up at Horace, a frown creasing his face.
"Not that good man. She's been sick for the week, think it's the cold."
Horace's smile faded slightly but did not vanish.
"Ah well, tell her I said feel better soon alright?"
Mickey forced a small smile.
"Thanks Horace, I'm sure she-"
Mickey was cut off by a voice in Room 101. It was a stern voice, but it carried an unwanted tenderness in it.
"Look Ronno, this is the last time I'm gonna tell you. Who hired ya?"
The voice that responded shared none of the former's softness. It was rough and harsh.
"And I told you, I ain't gonna say a fucking thing. Got it buddy? You're wasting your goddamn time."
"GRAHH! Get this piece of shit out of here."
Mickey Looked at Horace and shook his head, sighing.
"Looks like Ozzie got nowhere with him."
Horace simply nodded.
"Yup"
The door to room 101 opened and a pair of officers dragged a kicking Ronno out and into the hallway. A short guy wearily walked out. He looked up and saw Mickey and Horace. He sighed and shook his head.
"God, this guy is such a fucking waste of space. He's too smart to give up his boss, but too dumb to know when he's screwed. His boss KNOWS he's here and I'm sure this guy's gonna bite a bullet. Worst kind of thug."
Horace looked at the shorter guy. He was maybe 5'6, a few years older than Mickey. He had brown hair that was short but clean, a pair of sapphire blue eyes. He wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of brown trousers held up by suspenders. The man pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and took a lighter out of his pocket and lit it. He took a long drag before looking at the two standing in front of him. He noticed the coffee cup in Mickey's hand and took it. Before Mickey could respond he had gulped down half of it before spitting it out.
"The Hell's this? I like my coffee black Mick."
Mickey crossed his arms and began tapping his foot.
"That was my coffee."
The man shrugged and gulped down the rest.
"Ya well I'll buy you a new one kay?"
He crumpled the cup and tossed it over his shoulder into the room. Mickey put his hand on his forehead while Horace pointed at the cup.
"Go pick it up Oswald."
Oswald groaned but did what he was instructed too. He picked up the crumpled cup and dropped into the waste basket in the corner of the room. He looked at Horace.
"That better Sarge?"
Horace nodded.
"Much."
Oswald "Lucky" Rabbit was an old friend of Mickey's. They grew up together in the suburbs, with Oswald usually looking out for Mickey as if he were a younger brother. Eventually Oswald joined the force after his mother was assaulted on the street by some thugs. He had been in the force for a few years when Mickey had followed in his footsteps.
"So where ya two headed?"
Mickey pointed to the filing room.
"There. Gotta put this thing back before I head home."
Oswald looked at his watch.
"Jesus it's already 6? Ortensia is gonna be mad at me if I don't get home soon. Look I'll catch ya later alright Mick? G'night Sarge."
Oswald grabbed his overcoat from Room 101 before running out of the hall. Horace looked at Mickey and motioned to the Filing room.
"Look I'll put it away for ya Mick, go home man."
Mickey looked at Horace.
"What about you Sarge?"
Horace sighed.
"Captain Pete gave me guard duty tonight so I'm here till maybe 5 in the morning."
Mickey shook his head.
"What about Clarebell?"
Horace shrugged.
"She'll be alright, she knows I ain't comin home tonight. Go home and get a good night's sleep alright? That's an order."
Mickey nodded and gave Horace a handshake.
"Thanks Horace, keep safe kay?"
Horace chuckled.
"Will do Mick, but what's the worst that could happen?"
Mickey turned around and walked back to his office. The desk was a mess, papers and files scattered everywhere with a few pictures scattered about. He walked over to the coat stand, grabbed his light brown overcoat and brown fedora and put them on. He walked out of the Police Station and looked at the dark clouds overhead. He groaned and began walking home. He stopped about a block away at a hotdog vendor. He felt around to check he had some coins before looking up at the guy.
"One hotdog with everything on it."
The vendor, who was an overweight greasy guy, looked at the small Mickey before pulling a hotdog out of the cart and began garnishing it with the works.
"That'll be a quarter."
Mickey shook his head but pulled a quarter out of his pocket and gave it a flip before handing it to the vendor, taking his hotdog.
"A quarter now a days? Sheesh that's highway robbery."
The vendor shrugged but said nothing. Mickey turned and resumed his walking, periodically taking bites of his hotdog. He chewed slowly, savouring the flavour. Half way through his journey home it began to rain. Mickey groaned and quickly shoved the rest of his hotdog into his mouth before quickening his pace home. By the time he arrived at the door to his apartment he was soaked to the bone. He fumbled with his keys but managed to put them in the lock and open the door. He slowly walked inside and closed the door slowly. He was fairly sure Minnie was sleeping. He took off his wet shoes and took a step before feeling his socks were soaked as well. He took them off and dried his feet on the entrance mat before tossing them carefully into the small laundry room on his left. He removed his overcoat and fedora and placed them on the coat rack before continuing into the house. He quietly opened the door into the bedroom and saw that Minnie was, as he guessed, soundly asleep. He quietly crept in and grabbed his sleeping clothes before looking at Minnie. She was a small woman, about 5'2. She was in her early twenties as well, a year younger than Mickey. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. Mickey quietly leant forward and kissed her forehead before silently walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. He got changed and tossed his clothes in the laundry room before grabbing a beer from the fridge and crashing on the couch, which had a pillow and crumpled blanket on it already. He yawned and turned on the T.V. which was already set to a fairly low volume. He flipped to the baseball game and drank most of his beer before putting it down and falling asleep, leaving the television to flicker.
As the moon climbed high over the city, two people sat on the roof of the Police Station, looking in through the sunroof into the prison hall. The first looked at his green skinned partner, who was holding a rope in her hand.
"So, what's the plan Mal?"
Maleficent "The Dragon" Audley, otherwise known as "Mal", scowled at the man with the long twisted beard.
"First of all I'd prefer if you would use my proper name, because I do not need another idiot giving me atrocious pet names. Now, the plan is I will remain on lookout, you will go in and deal with Ronno. Then return here. No mistakes."
Jafar scoffed.
"Hardly something I could fail at, but very well, it shall be done quickly."
Jafar silently opened the sunroof window and slipped into the prison hall. He landed silently, scanning the area for any guards or officers. Nothing. Jafar began walking the nearly empty jail cells. There were a few sleeping prisoners, mostly thugs and goons. He slowly scanned the sleeping inmates before coming onto a still awake Ronno. The male in the jail cell smiled, not knowing what was coming.
"Jesus Jaffy, took ya long enough! So ya got the keys or what?"
Jafar said nothing but silent took his Colt Detective Special out from its holster and raised it up to Ronno's head. Ronno's eyes opened widely.
"Ah Jesus come on Jaffy it's me, Ronno, you know, we work together and all? Don't do this buddy plea-"
Ronno's please were cut short by a loud gunshot. Ronno, now having a big hole in his head, slumped to the floor, leaving a bloody trail with him. As the other startled inmates began trying to look at what had happened Jafar simply looked at the corpse.
"Hmph, pathetic, a man should never beg for his life at the face of death."
Jafar began to turn around when a voice echoed from the other end of the hall.
"Hey, HEY! ON YOUR KNEES! PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD AND GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!"
Jafar turned his and looked at the figure approaching him. He groaned slightly but lifted his pistol and took aim.
Horace was walking slowly but cautiously toward the intruder. He was sitting outside the jail hall when he heard a loud noise. He rushed in and saw the intruder standing in front of one of the cells. As he came closer he noticed the man raising his hand. He immediately saw he was holding a weapon and reached for his pistol when he was stopped by a loud noise. He looked down and grasped his stomach.
"Oh shi-..."
Horace collapsed on his knees, still holding his stomach, which began gushing blood at an alarming rate. He briefly looked up before collapsing on his stomach, and watched his killer slowly walk towards the other end. The man said something and a rope came down and in an almost an instant he was gone. Horace slowly rolled over onto his back and looked up through the sunroof at the full moon. His breathing became ragged and he could barely hear the yelling and screaming of the inmates. His only thoughts lay on his wife Claribelle. Tears began rolling down his eyes.
I'm so sorry Clar... I'm so sorry...
And then everything went black.
