Larry bounced out of Mr. Chang's, and headed down the street towards the park. He wondered if the box would be right where he had left it--He wondered what Junior had put into the box that was so important to him--He wondered why that little asparagus wanted his tooth... He hopped over a bush, and into the park.

The sun had gone down while Larry was in Mr. Chang's, so the park was extremely dark. "Too dark," Larry mumbled, as he scrambled around in the bushes. "Ah Ha!", he proclaimed as he untangled a wire from the bushes and plugged it into it's outlet. "Someone has to talk to the stage hands about extension cords!"

The streetlights immediately came on, illuminating the park--and the bench, which, to Larry's horror, was strune with tiny torn pieces of blue wrapping paper. Larry bounced forward to examine the scene. "Someone stole the box,", Larry lisped. "This looks like a job for - - LarryBoy!"

"Oh, Yes, I'm here, Master Larry." Alfred came scooting from offstage, and stopped in front of his employer--and friend. "Yes. I have your suit here, Master Larry. That unoccupied phone booth over there should make an excellent changing room."

"Um, Alfred"

"Yes, Master Larry"

"Have you been following me around all day?"

"What? Oh, no, Master Larry..."

"Well, never mind, Alfred. Just give me my costume."

"Oh, Yes, Sir." He handed the purple and yellow duds to the cucumber, and then quickly sped off. "I'll be back at the Larry cave if you need me! Ta ta!"

"Why does he yell like that whenever he brings me my LarryBoy outfit?" Larry groaned as he ducked down behind the bench, scanning the surroundings for passers by. After thoroughly convincing himself he was alone, he bounded over to the phone booth, squeezed through the doors, pulled the conveniently placed modesty screens, and, seconds later, burst out as -- LARRYBOY!

"Who has committed this dastardly deed", he bellowed, "Who is responsible for the felonious perpetration of this protectionless parcel?" For a moment, our here stood silent. A cricket chirped. An owl hooted. "No answer, eh? It looks like this situation calls for a selfless, unswayable, lovable hero! Well, guess what, Bumbleburg? I AM THAT HERO!"

"Please, friend, don't make such a scene." The sly, somewhat familiar voice floated softly through the night air. A nameless scallion peaked out from amongst the bushes, as a tiny scrap of blue paper floated innocently to the ground beside him.

"Give yourself up, foul evildoer!" Larry demanded. "You and your crimes are no match for, LARR..."

"...Yes, yes, I know the routine," The scallion interrupted, "but why do you accuse me of wrongdoing? I'm just resting here in the bushes eating blueberry poprocks!"

"Oh. I see", Larry said, a bit embarrassed, noticing that the blue scrap that had fallen came from the poprock packaging. "So, you didn't take the box that was left on the bench?"

"No, no, I didn't--but I did see who did. Come over here and I will tell you."

Larry crept over, and the scallion whispered the name into his plunger. Larry's eyes widened, and, without another word, he stormed off--back towards Mr. Chang's