A/N: I wasn't planning on doing another chapter of Temporary Truce, but Vulaan Kulaas' review inspired me, of course :)
Now before you read the chapter...let me just say that this chapter wasn't supposed to go this dark. It really wasn't. I just happened to read some of BHS' Shattered Skies and Vulaan Kulaas' Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond before going back to write this, and this is literally what I came up with. The warnings below should give you a good idea of what to expect in this part, though.
And yes, I will go back and work on chapter 2 of Big City Tabby. I'm just stuck on how I want that chapter to go, although I think I have a pretty good idea.
Anyway, enjoy part 2!
WARNING: This chapter contains the following content that can be triggers to some: blood, torture and violence.
Disclaimer: *points at previous note because I'm too lazy to write up another disclaimer* Oh, and I should also mention that I don't own Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long either. Come to think of it, I don't think I own anything at all. ^^
Temporary Truce
Chapter 2: You Brought This On Yourself
It was late afternoon when Bodiddly came around to check on his cousin.
He peers in through the window, wanting to see for himself if what Horatio said was really true. His cousin has a nasty habit of making up stories, a habit that he'd always gotten beat up for as a kitten. A mouse-lover was a pretty serious thing in their family, and there had to be some pretty good proof before going in and doing their job. Horatio had come back home with a black eye because of this fight with Punkin', and Bodiddly hoped that Horatio wasn't lying. If he was, he was going to have a lot to answer for.
He looks inside, noticing that Punkin' Puss is asleep in the rocking chair, his arms folded across his lap, his hat falling over his eyes. Bodiddly almost misses the blue hat that belongs to Mushmouse, who is sleeping on Punkin's leg in the same position, and with the cat's tail curled around him.
Bodiddly's eyes widen. "Well, hush my mouth," he mutters.
He's going to have a lot to talk about with his cousins.
Two days later...
Mushmouse sighs when he catches a whiff of country ham. "Punkin' Puss, haven't ya gotten tired of makin' that ham an' red-eye gravy already?"
"I don' wanna hear that from the feller who eats half a bowl of it when I do make it," Punkin' Puss retorts, stirring the pot.
Darn it, he'd been caught. Mushmouse groans, not about to admit it. "Even so, ya could stand to have a wider palate, Punkin'."
"...Come's to think of it, you ain't never had my sweet-an'-sour ribs with grilled taters 'n beans...or my pulled-pork sandwich," Punkin' says. "The pork's nice an' soft, glazed in my special family sauce an' served with crunchy pickles. Oh, an' there's my sweet an' smoky apple chicken, too, which goes great with green beans."
Mushmouse turns towards him, eyes wide and drool running down the side of his mouth. The names of the dishes sounded good enough, but the descriptions were making him ravenous. "You can make all that?"
"I would make 'em, but some folks say I don't have a 'wider palate'," Punkin' Puss says before chuckling.
"You has a fiendish mind, Punkin' Puss!" Mushmouse groans as Punkin' Puss breaks into full out laughter. "Ya should better than to tease a hungry mouse!"
"Guess I forgot," Punkin' replies, composing himself long enough to focus on adding the last ingredients to his gravy.
Mushmouse groans as he turns to watch the TV. He'll get him back, one way or another.
Someone knocks on the door, and Mushmouse's ears perk up. "Who'd be knockin' on the door at this hour?" he mutters.
"It'd better not be one o' those pesky salesmen. They've been comin' round a lot," Punkin' Puss replies, pouring the gravy in a small pot. "I'll get it in a second."
"You's gotta check the food, Punkin'. I'll answer it," Mushmouse replies, jumping down form the rocking chair to do so. "It could be one o' our neighbors."
He barely gets to the door before it gets blasted down, the handle flying into the wall. Mushmouse stares in utter shock as three cats, two of whom were taller than Punkin' Puss, march inside, armed with rifles and shotguns.
The first cat looks down at him and scoffs. "So, this scrawny mouse is responsible for turnin' Punkin' Puss soft, eh?" he said. "Guess you wasn't lyin', Bo."
"Neither was Horatio when he first told me," the smaller cat, Bodiddly, says, walking inside the house. "I couldn't believe it m'self."
"What in tarnation's goin' on?!" Punkin' Puss rushes over, rifle in hand. He freezes when he sees his cousins. "C-Cousin Bodiddly? Cousin Zeke? Cousin Mose?!"
"Howdy, cousin!" Mose, the tall one in the light blue and red clothes, points his gun at his cousin. "Or should I say, former cousin."
"Former cousin?" Mushmouse says.
"What's goin' on? Why're you all here?" Punkin' Puss demands.
"We's here to deal with this mouse-lovin' matter once an' for all!" Zeke yelled.
"An' how do you plan to deal with that?" Mushmouse asks.
"The best way we know how!" Bodiddly says. "We're a-gonna take Punkin' Puss to his pa's an' let him talk some sense into 'im!"
"W-W-What?" Punkin's eyes are as wide as saucers, and he's shaking so much that he almost drops his gun. "Y-You all can't be serious!"
"What's the matter? You scared ta face yer old man?" Bodiddly taunts.
"He got every reason ta be scared! His paw'll skin 'im alive!" Zeke says before laughing.
"We'll take ya to see 'im right after we finish off this worthless mouse!" Mose adds, turning his rifle towards the mouse.
"I-I wouldn't do that iffin' I was you," Mushmouse says.
"Well, you isn't I!" Mose snaps.
A loud gun cock fills his ears as soon as he steps forward. "Iffin' you used that smart head of yers, you'd see he was warnin' you!" Punkin' Puss snarls, his rifle aimed at Mose.
Mose scoffs. "You's jus' bluffin', Punkin'."
"You know I don't bluff, Mose. An' you know that I's a natural marksman," Punkin' says. "You'll have a bullet in you before ya can put a bullet in Mushmouse."
Mose lets out a dark chuckle as he looks at Punkin' Puss. "You don't wanna do things like this, Punk. You'll find it does more harm than good," he said. "The rest of our family will be fightin' over your hide if'n you kill one of us."
"Yeah, especially over some dad-burned mouse," Zeke answered.
"So, you either come with us, or have the whole lot of us out fer yer blood!" Bodiddly said.
Mushmouse gulps. He can already tell that these three were not joking. He looks over at Punkin' Puss, who starts to lower his rifle. "Punkin'-"
"I'll go with 'em, Mushmouse," Punkin' Puss says. He notices the stewing anger in the cat's eyes; it was a decision he didn't want to make, but one he knew he had to make. "I'd really rather not cause more problems between me an' my kinfolk, especially out here."
Mose smirks. "Well, well. Guess there is more to ya than bein' a hothead," he says. "Now, iffin' I was you, I'd set that rifle aside."
Punkin' does so-or rather, tosses it against the wall with such force it's almost dented. Mushmouse stares after Punkin' Puss in horror. He knows that the cat is doing this because he doesn't want unnecessary bloodshed or to make this situation even worse...but he gets a sickening feeling in his gut, that there's something far sinister that's going to happen to Punkin' Puss if he leaves with them. His instincts scream at him do something instead of standing there, but he knows that if either of them do anything, Punkin's cousins would kill them without a second thought.
The struggle must be apparent on his face, for Punkin' Puss' expression softens slightly. "Don't you worry yer little head, Mushmouse. I'll be fine," he said.
Mushmouse highly doubts that, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. Punkin' Puss gets marched out like he's being sent to the executioner's, but Mose remains behind. The sickening feeling in Mushmouse's gut only intensifies when the cat shuts the door.
"U-Uh, ain't ya goin' with the rest of yer kin?" Mushmouse asks.
The cat gives him a shark smile. "I would, but I figured one of us have ta stay here an' keep Punkin's buddy company," he says. He holds his rifle leisurely in one hand, tapping it against his shoulder. "Looks like you an' me is gonna be housemates for a spell. An' as usual for housemates', there's gotta be some ground rules."
Already, Mushmouse regrets not acting on his instincts.
The moon is barely visible through the dark leaves of the trees, and as such, it provides little light for Punkin' Puss as he's forced to walk ahead of Zeke and Bodiddly. Those two might've been trained to maneuver through the dark of night, but he wasn't. He stumbles on another gnarled root for the fourth time already and his cousin Zeke swears this time.
"You're usually faster on yer feet, Punkin'!" Zeke shoves him forwards not long after getting up, almost sending him down the hill again. "Reckon that mangy Mushmouse is ta blame for that, too."
"Iffin' ya had half a mind to bring a lantern, I would be able to see!" Punkin' growls.
"An' iffin' ya were trained to move like we were, ya wouldn't need it!" Bodiddly snaps. "Get a-movin'. We'll be at yer paw's house soon enough."
Aw, right. I've gotta face 'im, Punkin' Puss thinks to himself, continuing on his march through the dark. His eyes narrow. I sure ain't lookin' forward to that.
They continue on their journey, and all the while, Punkin' Puss can't help but worry about both himself and Mushmouse. He knows his father's going to do worse than skin him alive for this, but he had noticed that Mose wasn't with them, which could only mean that he was at the cabin with Mushmouse. Everyone knew Mose was vicious with mice, and he knew without a doubt that he was going to make Mushmouse's life a living hell-probably moreso than his father would for him.
They finally make it to Punkin's childhood home, and he gulps when he sees his uncle and several of his other cousins standing on the porch. His father, an aged tabby with streaks of white showing in his dark orange fur, stands up, supporting himself with his rifle. The dark look in his eyes confirmed his worst fears.
Zeke and Bodiddly shove him onto the porch and he falls over himself like a fool. He hears his uncle and cousins laugh and feels his father's glare burning into the back of his neck.
"Get up, Punk," his father booms, his voice clear and authoritative.
Punkin' Puss gets to his feet, and meets his father's golden brown eyes. He gulps again. "H-Howdy, Paw..."
"I can't believe you," he snarls, and Punkin' Puss is taken aback by this. He's never heard his father speak with such venom. "My own flesh an' blood, becomin' a mouse-lover of all things. I thought Horatio was lyin' 'til I sent yer cousin to check on ya."
Punkin' Puss whirls around to face his cousin. "You came pokin' round my house?!"
"Yeah, 'cause yer paw ordered me to. An' even if he didn't, I was a-fixin' to get you fer punchin' Horatio," Bodiddly says.
Punkin' Puss feels a surge of anger towards himself-if he had noticed his cousin's presence, he would've told Mushmouse to escape, that way the mouse wouldn't be in danger. But it was too late to worry about the what-ifs now. He looks at his father, whose still giving him that stormy glare. "So now what? You's plannin' on finishin' me off, Paw?"
His father looks at Zeke instead. "What happened to that mangy Mushmouse?"
"Oh, Mose's fixin' him good," Zeke said, snickering. "He ain't gettin' outta thar alive."
"Mose'll leave him for Punk once he returns," Paw replies. "Reckon we's gonna have ta reteach Punk here all 'bout how catses and mouses are supposed to be."
"This is gonna be fun," one of his brothers reply.
The only sound Punkin' Puss is able to get out is a squeak before his father grabs him by the scruff of his neck and drags him inside the house. Stars fill his vision as he slammed onto the floor, and he hears the mean snickers of his three brothers as they circle him.
Punkin' isn't unfamiliar with this-this has actually happened in a few circles of his family more than once-but he can't help but look up at his father to plead with him one last time. "Paw," he groans, "don't do this."
His father looks at him with anger and-dare he say-shame. "You brought this on yourself, Punkin'." He inclines his head to one of his brothers.
The next thing Punkin' Puss knows, he feels a swift, sharp kick to his left ribs, and soon all of his brothers, followed by his two cousins, subject him to a world of pain.
"Hey, Mushmouse?" Mose asks calmly.
The reply is a soft croak. Mushmouse opens his eyes, his head pounding and his body alive with pain. "Y-Yeah...?"
"I think you's forgettin' somethin'," Mose says, a playful lilt in his voice.
Mushmouse swallows down the bile in his throat. "I-I mean...yes, Master?"
"That's better," Mose says, and he chuckles. "I was wonderin' if you'd be doin' anythin' any time soon."
Mushmouse wants to comment how stupid of a question that is, but he's in too much pain to do so. Mose gets up from the ground and walks over to him. He picks him up, none too gently, either; he can feel the cat's claws digging into the fresh cuts, and he can't help but wince. Mose's mouth curls into that smile again-the smile that sends every part of him shuddering.
"Well, I would say that you're gettin' off easy compared to Punkin' Puss," he says, "but that'd be lyin'."
No kiddin', Mushmouse thinks.
"I think by the time he comes back from his stay with Pa an' the rest of our kinfolk, he'll have learned his lesson. An' so will you." Mose chuckles again. "But I don' think you'll live to tell anybody about yer lesson."
Ice races down Mushmouse's back, freezing him in place. "Y-You's thinkin' of finishin' me off?"
"I could. I haven't had a fresh mouse in ages," Mose said. "Not a lot of 'em where I live."
"W-Well...uh, I-I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Mushmouse says.
"An' why not?" Mose's voice dips to a growl.
"Knowin' me, you'd probably get indigestion, or maybe food poisonin'," Mushmouse continues. "An' even iffin' I wasn't, I reckon a small lil' ol' mousey like me wouldn't fill ya."
Mose glares at him for a moment more, and that icy feeling doesn't leave Mushmouse-in fact, it intensifies as he locks eyes with the cat. And then, Mose gives him another one of his shark smiles. "We'll see 'bout that," he says. "Ya see, I've heard that mouses are jus' like rabbits; they multiply. So I reckon you's got a lotta kinfolk."
Mushmouse's eyes widen when he sees where this is going. He attempts to sit up, but fire still races through his bones. Mose laughs. "Well, now ya try to do somethin'," he says.
"D-Darn right I am!" Mushmouse growls, glaring up at Mose. "Iffin' you lay one paw on my family, I swear, you is gonna pay!"
"How? You's gonna be dead soon, anyway!" Mose says. "First light, right after I round up your kinfolk!" He gets up and walks over to Mushmouse, rifle in hand. "An' ta make sure ya don't try to do anythin' foolish..."
Mushmouse at first thinks Mose is going to shoot him, but he's proven wrong a second later when Mose points the stock at him. And then he recognizes what he's about to do-he must've shown Punkin' Puss how to do this, since the latter did this all the time during their feud.
"Fore!" Mose says, and proceeds to swing his rifle like a professional golfer.
The side of the stock slams into his face with crushing force, sending him rocketing into his mousehole. He makes contact with the wall with a brutal crack, and he hears bones snap and shift in ways they're not supposed to. It sends white hot pain racing through his body, pain that makes him scream in agony. He slumps to the ground face first, the sound of Mose's laughter filling his ears.
Whatever hopes he had of this being some elaborate scare tactic were quickly fading away. This cat wasn't trying to scare him, although he'd already done a good job at that...he was trying to kill him.
He wanted to get back up then, to pull himself together and warn his family before it was too late...but the fire quickly numbs, and Mushmouse's eyelids grow heavy. He's seeing blurry doubles of everything, and Mose's laughter is faint in his ears.
He doesn't hear what the cat says next. His eyes close once more, and then everything everything quickly goes black as he sinks into unconsciousness.
The next morning...
The sound of the door slamming open awakes Punkin' from his uneasy sleep. "Get up, Punkin'," Zeke snarls.
Punkin' would have, too, if his cousin hadn't walked over and kicked him in the back, his claws jabbing into it. Punkin' winces at this, careful not to scream. That would only bring about worse torture. He grits his teeth and holds back a curse as he rolls over and pushes himself into a position where he can stand easily. No sooner has he done this than Zeke yanks him upwards by one arm, setting his bones on fire. He half-stumbles out the door and is greeted by his father and the rest of his cousins, who all glare at him with that same animosity.
"Welcome back to the land of the livin', Punkin'!" Bodiddly says.
His father holds up a hand to quiet him. "Have ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asks slowly.
Punkin' Puss recognizes that tone. If he doesn't give him the right answer, his father's going to deal with him personally. And Punkin' knows firsthand how that goes. Everyone's eyes bore into him, waiting for him to say something.
Punkin' Puss knows what he should do. He should tell them that he isn't about to trade his friendship with Mushmouse just for their sakes. He should stand up and do the right thing.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to lose his life, especially at the hands of his family, most of whom looked all too eager to finish him off. Horatio even had the nerve to tell him the story of one of his uncles, how he'd become friends with a mouse and how the rest of them had found out. Punkin' Puss has to resist the urge to shudder as his cousin's words, full of cruel mirth, echoed in his mind.
"Long story short, the next time he went down to the lake, he didn't make it back to shore. The lot of us made sure of that."
Although he'd snarled at him that the story didn't terrify him, if one had peeled away his fur, they would've seen he'd gone white with fear. Is that how he'd be taken care of? Or would the rest of them come up with something worse, since he'd defied them and had fought against his cousins? Whatever they had in mind, Punkin' knows their methods would be slow, cruel and painful-a cruel game in which they'd draw out his suffering until the end. It reminded him of his "games" with Mushmouse back in their feuding days, he thinks with a twinge.
Mushmouse...I'm sorry.
"...y-yeah," he mumbles.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Bodiddly said. "You's usually louder than that, Punk."
"Yeah," Punkin' Puss says. He regrets this a moment later; his scraped throat burns with the strain. "I-I've learned my lesson."
"Good. An' I want ya to prove it in front of the whole family," his father says.
An icy feeling of dread settles in the pit of Punkin's stomach. "W-What's that, Paw?"
His father smiles. "We're headin' back to your cabin. You're-a gonna take this yar rifle, an' blast that mangy mice to pieces," he said. "It's jus' like when you was a kitten, Punkin', only this time, you's gonna make sure it's dead."
There is no hiding his fear this time. He takes it back-any form of cruel torture his father had in mind was better than this. Having every bone in his body broken was better than this. For a split second, even death was better than this. At least then, he wouldn't have to live with the fact that he'd murdered his friend because of his cruel, heartless family.
But he knows it's too late to turn back. Too late to protest. Too late to fight. He knows his family too well. All his father has to do is give the order, and they'll be on him with the intention to kill him. And if he tried to fight his father, he'd be dead before he could aim a barrel at him.
Punkin' Puss swallows back a pool of acid in his throat. "A-Alright, Paw...I'll do it," he answers. "I-I'll fix that scrawny Mushmouse."
The cruel smirk that graces his father's face seals the deal.
"Golly, it sure is quiet 'round here."
"'Course it is, Rufus. Cousin Mushmouse done made that mean ol' cat his friend, remember?"
"Quite. I remember him well. Scruffy, ill-tempered one, wasn't he?"
The three voices belonged to three of Mushmouse's many cousins-the first being Rufus, who looked just him but with a green hat and a red vest; Luke, who had bluish fur, wore a blue hat and a red tattered vest; and Bat Mouseterson, the city-slicker with a refined accent and carried a cane, as well as a dignified air about him. The three were on their way to their cousin's cabin, since they'd been invited to a potluck. Although all three had been enemies of Punkin' Puss at some time during their cousin's feud, they'd more or less learned to tolerate him at Mushmouse's insistence.
And if one good thing could be said about Punkin' Puss, he was an amazing chef. So putting aside their differences towards him would work for one day, if only so they could have a fill of his delicious food.
No sooner had they gone through the bushes than the double barrel of a shotgun met their faces. All three jumped back as they came face to face with an orange furred cat with a black, tattered hat, an equally-tattered black vest, a yellow shirt and dark blue pants.
Rufus gasps. "Punkin' Puss?! What's the matter with you! We's Mushmouse's cousins!" he shouts.
"You are, huh?" he says, not removing his rifle.
"Yes. You should know that quite well. Now lay down your weapon and let us pass," Bat says, lifting the barrel up smoothly with his bat and walking under it.
He does, and then promptly puts the barrel back in his face. "Not happenin', city mouse. In case y'all hasn't figured it out, I ain't Punkin' Puss," the cat snarls. "I's his cousin, Mose."
"Shucks, if you hadn't told us yerself, I'd swear you was him!" Rufus answers.
"Well, I ain't. But I reckon yer cousin Mushmouse wishes I was," Mose replies, a smirk on his face.
"What's this 'bout Cousin Mushmouse?" Luke shouts. "Iffin' you did somethin' to him-"
"Now, now, there's no need ta get fight happy," Mose replies. "But iffin' you get any funny ideas, I'll let all of ya have it, with both barrels." He smirks as he sees Rufus and Luke's faces dissolve into pure terror. "Now, y'all simmer down an' come along peaceful-like back ta Punkin's cabin. There's a surprise waitin' for ya."
"What surprise?" Bat asks, looking up at the cat coolly.
"Iffin' I told ya, there'd be no point in it," Mose replies. "Now get ta marchin', city-slicker."
"Hmph." Bat does, folding his cane under his arm and holding his head up snootily. "Very well. But I still believe the weapon's unnecessary."
Rufus and Luke follow next, very aware of the fact that Mose's gun was on their tails. "I-I ain't likin' this, Luke. What if this is a trap 'a some sort?"
"Cousin Mushmouse'll known all about it, Rufus," Luke said. "He knows all the tricks that mean ol' cat's got. He'll help us."
Mose laughs, but doesn't comment on the remark. He simply pushes Luke forwards and he squeaks as he stumbles into Rufus. "Less talkin', more walkin'," he says, a little too cheerfully.
Luke gulps, Rufus shudders, and Bat rolls his eyes, but they keep silent on their trek to the cabin.
"Oohh...my achin' head..."
Of course, that's not the only thing that's aching right now, Mushmouse thinks as he rises from unconsciousness. The claw marks from yesterday still burn, his legs are sore, and he's certain that the lumps he's feeling that poke through his back and such are the bones that Mose broke yesterday. Moving was practically impossible without any assistance. He was immobile, helpless and in unimaginable pain. At least he can breathe, although even that feels like fire coursing through his lungs.
Right now, all he can think of is his family. He hasn't heard anything from Mose, which must mean that the cat was out there now, searching for them. He'd invited some of them over for that potluck he and Punkin' Puss were supposed to throw, and a few of their other friends from across the country were supposed to be here as well. Mose could fool them into thinking he was Punkin' Puss, and then hold them hostage. Or he could kill them all just as he'd said he would; after last night, there was no doubt that he'd do it, too.
The door opened and the first person he sees is his city-bred cousin, Bat Mouseterson, who looks irritated. Behind him are his two other cousins, Rufus and Luke, who look scared out of their wits. And right behind them is Mose, who is casually pushing Luke with the barrel of his shotgun.
"Now that we're here, please inform Mushmouse that we've arrived," Bat says coolly, turning to face Mose with disdain.
Mose removes the shotgun from Luke's back and smiles down at the city mouse with one of his shark smiles. This sight doesn't deter Bat, but Rufus and Luke literally go white with fear. "Certainly," he says, and strides over to his mousehole with the feigned air of a city dweller.
Mushmouse tries to push himself to a sitting position, but no sooner has he done this than Mose's paws close around him tightly and bring him out. Mose turns around and then tosses him to his cousins, sending pain jolting through his body and wrecking his bones even more.
Even from behind him, he can feel that shark smile. "There he is, fellers," Mose says.
All three of them gasp. Rufus shudders, Luke stares with wide eyes and a slack jaw, and Bat's cool disposition slips as horror crosses his face. Mushmouse raises his head, and tries to lighten up their mood. "H-Hey fellas..."
Bat draws his cane, but just as fast Mose's gun is in his face. "Don't try it, city-slicker," Mose snaps, "less ya wanna go back to yer fancy city in pieces."
"M-Mushmouse, what's goin' on? Where's Punkin' Puss?" Luke asks, cowering in fear.
"He's with his paw, who's my uncle," Mose says. "An' iffin' ya must know, this whole mess started because yer cousin decided ta mess with my cousin's head, fillin' him with ideas that catses and mouses could be friends. I had to teach 'im a lesson."
"You monster," Bat snarls, and Mushmouse flinches, although the action sends fire through his bones. He's never heard Bat sound like that, ever. "How could you do something so cruel!?"
"Well, you think that's bad, you don't wanna see how Punkin' Puss is gonna be," Mose laughs.
The phone rings then, startlingly loud. Mose walks over to the phone, keeping his rifle trained on the mice. He picks up the receiver with one hand. "Hello?" he says.
"Mose? I thought you'd be sleepin' still."
"Well, I would've been, but I was keepin' a promise to Mushmouse," Mose says, and turns his smirk towards the mice, who all look at him with disgust and dread. "I was a-fixin' to finish 'im an' his cousins off, but-"
"Save it, Mose. My son's takin' care of it."
Mose smirks. "So he's learned his lesson, has 'e?"
"Yup. An' we're a-gonna make sure he won't fake it this time. I want ya to tie up those other two. But I want you to tie up Mushmouse in a real special-like way. Make it nice."
He doesn't need to tell him twice; already, Mose's fiendish mind is coming up with a plan. "I'll take care of it, Uncle Pete," he replies. "Jus' like how I took care of everythin' else before." He hangs up the phone and turns to Mushmouse. "Don't you worry. You's still gettin' the fixin' you deserve, but not at my paws."
"You won't get away with this," Mushmouse snaps. "You jus' wait 'till Punkin' Puss finds out what you've been doin'; you'll be lucky to escape with yer life!"
Mose laughs. "Oh, I doubt that," he replies. "Now, my uncle called me to tell me to fix things up nice for when he an' my cousin come by. An' I've got a good idea for how to do it, too..."
Meanwhile, thirty miles away...
"Hmmm...this is rather strange, ain't it, Droop?" Ricochet Rabbit mutters, looking around the bus station. "Both of 'em ain't here."
"Maybe-oof...!" His deputy, Droop-a-Long, trips over a rock and nearly sends their luggage and picnic basket falling on top of him. After straightening up, Droop-a-Long continues with, "Maybe they forgot, or they're still gettin' the food ready. Mr. Punkin' always liked takin' his time cookin'."
"True...but somethin' about this feels off," Ricochet answers. "Mushmouse told me that either he or Punkin' Puss would be here to meet us an' then we'd head off to the potluck." He groans. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinkin' it."
"I say we give 'em a few more minutes, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long suggests. "If they don't show up, we'll head up to their place. I remember where they live."
It's a reasonable suggestion, Ricochet thinks, but his sheriff's intuition is sending off warning bells. He doesn't want his deputy to worry, though; on their way here, the coyote had told him how happy he was that they had the weekend off for once. He gives him a small smile. "Alright, Droopy. Guess we'll jus' wait here until they show up," he answers.
With that, the two of them sit on the bench, waiting for any sign of their friends.
The farther along Punkin' Puss hikes, the more that sense of dread builds in his stomach. The rifle in his hands feels more like a hundred-pound weight as he marches up the hill, his cousins' rifles pointing at his back. He hears the distant hobbling of his father behind them, and feels the cruel pride in his look. His mouth was as dry as cotton and he was sweating bullets. In only a few minutes, he's going to commit murder, an act that he'd sworn to never commit in his life, not even during his feuding days with Mushmouse.
The faces of his friends filled his mind, one by one. There was Ricochet, the workaholic daredevil of a sheriff with a hot temper and a prideful nature, but a loyal friend. There was also his deputy, Droop-a-Long-slow-moving, slow-witted but good-natured Droop-a-Long, who was polite to a fault and loved company.
And then there was Mushmouse-the shrewd, cunning mouse he'd fought with for years during their destructive feud. The prankster with a heart of gold who'd convinced him that this feud was getting ridiculous. The mouse he'd never thought he'd call one of his closest friends.
The mouse who, in only a few minutes, he'd have to kill to save his own hide.
He imagines what his friends will think if they hear of this. Ricochet would make it his life's mission to bring him to justice, never forgiving him for his actions. Droop-a-Long would follow right behind, if only because Ricochet's his boss and it's his sworn duty as deputy, although he can see him being more sympathetic than the strong-willed rabbit.
Mushmouse's reaction was the worst of all. Already he can picture the terror in his eyes, the shock, the hint of anger. Being the motor mouth that he was, he'd even say things like 'All of this was nothin' but a lie' and 'You never changed at all'. To say nothing of Mushmouse's family, who'd probably kill him in retaliation and making this a violent family feud.
He bites his lip hard, and winces when one of his fangs pierces through. The pain is a small distraction, but not enough. What have I gone an' done? I'm about ta go an' blow everythin' to pieces, he thinks. I've gotta think of somethin' fast...gotta think of somethin' to change this so's nobody dies!
A few minutes later, they're in front of his cabin. "Go on. Knock on the door," Bodiddly hisses.
Punkin' Puss obeys silently, his heart in his throat and his claws digging into his rifle. He walks up the two steps and knocks on the door twice, sucking on his bleeding lip all the while. The iron taste makes him shudder. In a minute or two, his senses are going to be overloaded with it.
The door opens and Mose is there, gnawing on a turkey bone. He smirks. "Howdy, cousin! I was wonderin' when you was gonna show up," he says. "Come on in. I'll show ya where I've got yer target."
Mose's cheerful tone was making Punkin' feel worse. But when he steps inside, the scent of blood hits his nose, and he whips to the left. In the corner, there are three mice who look just like Mushmouse, gagged and tied up with razor-thin floss. He recognizes Bat Mouseterson because of the bowler hat, but doesn't know the other two.
And in the middle of the room, pinned and tied above his mousehole, was Mushmouse. His small body is lined with dozens of cuts, many of them fresh and still glistening. Even from where he was standing he can tell that many of his bones were broken. His gaze is unfocused and full of pain, although when he looks up at Punkin' Puss, a gleam of hope fills his eyes.
For a brief moment, a flash of white-hot anger fills his veins. If his father and cousins weren't behind him right now, Punkin' Puss would turn his rifle towards Mose and blow his head clean off. Hurting his friends like this, and then forcing him to murder them...he wonders just how deep cruelty ran in his family.
Mose steps aside and shows Mushmouse off like a prize. "Took me a minute to do this, but I think I did a fine job," he says. "I can't wait to see what a buncha Mushmouses taste like."
"I call the one in the blue hat!" Bodiddly cries out.
"Mine's the one in green!" Horatio said.
"None of you touch the city-slicker," Mose replies. "I've got somethin' personal to settle with him."
"Enough all of ya. We're here to see that Punkin' Puss learns his lesson," his father Peter says. "An' as such, we're gonna wait until Mushmouse meets his end first."
Bat struggles even more against his binds, his shouts muffled. Mose laughs cruelly at this, and so do the rest of his family as Punkin' steps forward, his rifle held tightly in his hands.
Mushmouse's smile drops and his eyes go wide with fear. Punkin' Puss swears that he even sees him go a shade paler. "P-Punkin' Puss?" he asks, his voice taking on that wounded, high-pitched note.
It just makes that heart-wrenching feeling all the worse as he raises the rifle. It's a struggle as he squints one eye, and struggles to hold the gun steady. "I-I'm sorry, Mushmouse..." he says. His voice is choked with a sob. No, he can't do this, he can't bring himself to do this, how could he choose to do this? His arm is shaking, and his one open eye is already blurring over with tears. "I-I'm sorry..."
"You're gonna be real sorry iffin' you don't pull that trigger!" Horatio shouts.
"Make yer decision, Punkin', or we'll make it for ya," his father growls.
That does it for him. "Alright...an' I want ya to know somethin' else, too, Pa," he says, his breath shaky.
"What's that?"
"...that I'm not a monster like the rest of you are!" Punkin' roars, and he spins around, pointing his rifle above their heads. Everyone ducks, and he fires a clean shot into the air, barely missing his father. The backblast rattles his bones, but he manages to hold his own before stumbling back.
He knows who'll hear it and who'll come running, but he hopes that he won't be late.
Horatio jumps up then, rifle aimed at him and rage on his face. "You double-dealin' little-!"
Punkin' Puss doesn't have time to move. Horatio fires, and white hot pain floods Punkin' Puss' stomach as the bullet crashes through, sending him to the ground. He's barely aware of Mushmouse's scream over his own as he writhes in agony, clutching his stomach. The rest of his family is shouting and he hears an audible crack resound through the air, followed by a thud."YOU FOOL!" his father roars. "You killed 'im! You killed my son!"
Punkin' Puss tries to speak, but it's enough to just keep breathing and keep calm through the chaos. Ricochet...Droop-a-Long...where in the blue blazes are ya!?
Below on the hill...
The gunshot does it.
Ricochet shoots off the bench and snatches his gun holster. Droop-a-Long looks over at him, gnawing on a turkey wing. "What's wrong, Mr. Rico-"
"Come on, Deputy!" Ricochet orders, snatching said turkey wing and tossing it back in the basket. "We're gonna find Punkin' Puss an' Mushmouse!"
Droop-a-Long looks at him, dismayed. "But Ricochet-"
"You heard those shots as well as I did, Droop. My senses are tellin' me that somethin' bad is goin' down an' our friends are in the middle of it!" Ricochet drags Droop-a-Long to his feet. "Leave the lunch an' show me where ta go! We've gotta find 'em before it's too late!"
Droop-a-Long sighs. He's still hungry, but he knows nothing is going to convince Ricochet to stop once he's in this mood. "Alright, Mr. Ricochet. It's straight up the beaten path, then ya take a left when ya get to a fork in the road, cross a bridge an' then go straight up another hill. Their cabin's right at the top of that cliff."
"Thanks, Droop!" And before Droop-a-Long can stop him, Ricochet is off, a cloud of dust streaking through the forest. Birds flock to the sky at the disturbance and Droop-a-Long holds his hat down at the gust of wind that follows.
When the wind dies down, Droop-a-Long walks behind, slowly as usual. "Guess I'm walkin'..."
"PUNKIN' PUSS!"
Mushmouse's voice is hoarse from screaming but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the cat lying on the ground, barely moving, his face twisted in pain. Blood is pooling in his paws and is spreading in a pool across the wood floor, staining it.
In front of him, the rest of Punkin' Puss' family has started fighting among themselves. Punkin's father has slapped Horatio to the ground, roaring about how he killed his son, and the others have ganged up on him, shouting that "That wasn't part of the plan, ya halfwit!" and "You were supposed to shoot off his ear, not his whole stomach!" Horatio was pleading, shouting, "I-I didn't mean to...he almost killed Uncle Pete-", and there was another slap as Pete knocked him down to the ground again.
If he wasn't so weak and if his bones weren't broken, Mushmouse would've run down to aid the cat and his cousins. He knew he couldn't do anything to them in this condition, but he was sure as heck determined to make them pay for treating their own kin like this, for making him choose between his friends and his family. But struggling against his binds is too much and causes his bones to ache even more.
The only thing he can do is watch his friend fight for his life while hell breaks loose in their home.
A roar of wind fills the air, but this wind is not natural. It roars with the force of an oncoming train, and above the chaos he could see a trail of dust miles high rise above the trees.
"What in tarnation is that?!" Horatio shouts, and for a second, the whole family collectively stops. Even Peter Punkin' Puss, who has his claws full of Horatio's shirt, turns in the direction of the cloud trail.
Everyone except Mose, who glares at Mushmouse. He picks up the rifle and points it at him. "Since Punkin' Puss didn't finish you off, I wi-"
"EVERYBODY, STOP!" someone shouts. There is a loud screech and the dust trail ends right at the cabin steps. "All of ya, stop fightin', drop yer guns an' let me by!"
Nobody argues. There is a collective thud as everyone drops their guns and moves over. The person who'd given the order steps in, a fierce scowl on his face.
Mushmouse's heart soars. "Ricochet!" he shouts.
Ricochet's eyes widen in horror when he sees him. "What in the blue blazes happened here?!" he shouts, running over to Mushmouse. "It's alright, Mushmouse, I'll get ya down-"
"D-Don't worry 'bout me!" Mushmouse says, even as Ricochet pulls off the floss and removes the tacks stuck through his hat and tail-none too gently, either, he adds mentally. "It's Punkin' Puss! H-He's been shot!"
"He has?!" Ricochet whirls around, and there is Punkin' Puss, who is all but completely still, groaning in pain. Ricochet goes a shade paler at this. "Oh no..." He rushes over as carefully as he could with Mushmouse in his hand and examines the cat. "Punk? Punkin', can ya hear me?!"
A low groan answers his question. He turns to Mushmouse. "Who did this?"
"I-It was his cousin, Horatio," Mushmouse answers. "P-Punkin' was supposed ta kill me, b-but he turned an' fired at his family instead, an' Horatio..."
The dark look Ricochet sends Punkin's family sets them all back. "Is that so?" he asks quietly.
"Y-Yeah...t-there's more to it, but..." Mushmouse looks down at the cat, and shudders. He knows he's still alive, but just barely and he's literally fighting for time. Big tears fall from his eyes. "P-Poor Punkin' Puss..."
"Is there anybody else involved?" Ricochet asks.
"M-My cousins, t-tied up over thar in that corner..."
"Sit here, Mushmouse," Ricochet says softly, setting him down next to Punkin's face. "I'll free your family...an' then I'm callin' the local authorities an' gettin' to the bottom of this." The last sentence is said with a growl and another pointed glare towards Punkin's family before he runs over to help Mushmouse's cousins.
Not long after he leaves, Punkin' lets out a cry of pain, which he quickly tries to hide with a hiss. Mushmouse crawls over and asks, "P-Punkin' Puss?"
"Muh...M-Mush...mouse...?" Punkin' wheezes, his eyes cracking open. "Y-You's still alive?"
"Y-Yeah...Ricochet got here just in time," Mushmouse replies, swallowing back a sob.
"...I-I knew he'd hear that shot," Punkin' says, a small smile on his face.
"Y-Ya mean you planned that?!" Mushmouse shouts.
"I-It was my only backup plan...kinda made it up at the last minute, but still...t-thank goodness fer that..."
His eyes start to close and worry settles in Mushmouse. "P-Punkin', you's gotta hold on," Mushmouse says.
"Yeah." Ricochet whirls around behind him, his eyes filled with seriousness. "We're gettin' ya the help ya need."
"B-But Ricochet, there ain't no way-" Punkin' Puss starts, only to groan.
Ricochet is over there in a split second, and for a moment, Mushmouse can't help but be wowed by the rabbit's speed. "Don't you get ta talkin' like that. Iffin' I know you, you've still got some fight in ya yet," he says. "An' I'll be darned iffin' I let you die right here an' now." He turns to one of Mushmouse's cousins, who are now freed by the wall. "Can one of ya call the doctor?"
"I'm on it!" Luke shouts, and he and his cousins are racing for the phone.
"Ricochet, what're we gonna do 'bout Punkin' Puss?" Mushmouse asks.
"He's gonna be fine. I know he is," Ricochet replies, giving the mouse one of his confident smiles. "As for the rest of his family...well, I'll leave that to the sheriff of this jurisdiction." Looking up at them with another frown, he finishes, "I jus' hope they get what they deserve."
Mushmouse silently agrees.
An hour later, Droop-a-Long arrives on the scene, and the whole cabin is swarmed with the boys in blue. The remaining members of Punkin's family have scattered...all except Punkin's father, Mose and Horatio, who were kept under watch by Ricochet; the rabbit had his hand on his gun glaring at their backs with fury. Droop-a-Long knows that expression. If someone even tried to make a move, they'd be in handcuffs before they could blink.
Droop-a-Long had heard the story through word of mouth, and he'd prayed that it wasn't true. Punkin' Puss couldn't be dead; he was a fighter, a wild, passionate fighter, not one to give up even if he got seriously hurt...it sounded monstrously wrong to his own ears.
But then he'd run into Susie McStomp, the hill girl who'd wanted to marry Punkin' Puss several times, crying her heart out...and he knew then that it was no joke. He was fighting tears himself when he'd made it to the cabin.
He can't believe it. Punkin' Puss, wild, irate but good-natured Punkin' Puss, was dead, victim of a senseless feud.
Droop-a-Long walks up to the porch. Mushmouse, who is battered and broken, appears to tugging on Ricochet's belt as if to restrain the sheriff. "Ricochet, don't hurt 'em none. This isn't yer jurisdiction!"
"I know, but these three almost got my friend killed!" Ricochet snaps. "I'm makin' sure they're not pullin' anythin'!"
Almost. Punkin' Puss had almost died. This gives Droop-a-Long some sense of peace, but only a little. Ricochet's anger at this meant that he was still seriously injured. He knows the sheriff too well; if any of his friends are in the crossfire, he'll stop at nothing to make the people responsible pay.
"We're already handlin' things, Sheriff Ricochet," one of the cops says.
"Not well enough, from what I'm seein'!" Ricochet retorts.
"Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long says quietly. "Let the local cops handle 'em. We can't do but so much."
Ricochet stares at him incredulously. "Are you kiddin' me, Droop-a-Long? These three-"
"Ricochet, I know what they did. An' I heard what happened. I'm sad an' angry too, but shootin' them isn't gonna help. Let the local cops handle this," he answers.
Ricochet grumbles, but lets go of the three cats, who all look relieved. He stalks off the porch, and Droop-a-Long hurries after him.
"Ricochet-"
"Don't, Droop. Jus'...jus' don't say anythin' right now, alright?" Ricochet replies. He marches off, heading down the hill and into the forest.
Droop-a-Long sighs. He might as well-no use talking to the sheriff when he's in this mood.
Hturns to Mushmouse, who leans against the rail, his ears drooping and tears running down his face. Seeing the usually spirited mouse like this broke his heart. He knelt down in front of him. "Mr. Mushmouse?" he asks. "A-Are ya okay?"
"I-I got tortured, have several bones broken in my body, my best friend jus' got shot an' I don't even know what's gonna happen to 'im. T-The doc wouldn't tell us. Other than that, yeah, I'm doin' great!" Mushmouse says a little too cheerfully. Droop-a-Long stares in horror as he begins to shudder. "A-After all...w-who wouldn't be okay a-after all of that?!"
"Y-Ya poor thing..." Droop-a-Long scoops Mushmouse up and lets him rest on his shoulder, allowing him to cry. He sniffles. "Y-Ya poor, poor thing...you must've suffered a lot..."
"S-So did Punkin' Puss, but his family didn't care 'bout that!" Mushmouse sobs. "He's gone, Droop-a-Long! He's gone ta go up to those big ol' hills in the sky! I jus' know it!"
"I don't think that's true," Droop-a-Long says. "Mr. Punkin's a strong feller. He'll come outta this alright. T-They'll save 'im for sure, Mr. Mushmouse, sir..."
Mushmouse sniffles. "I-Iffin' I wasn't so torn up, I-I'd get on ya 'bout callin' me 'Mr. Mushmouse' again," he says.
"Sorry," Droop-a-Long says. "It's a habit." He removes the mouse and looks at him. "How's about I make us some chow? It'll help keep yer mind offa things."
"Y-Ya sure about that?" Mushmouse looks back at the house, which is still in shambles after the Punkin' family entry. "I-I don't feel too keen 'bout eatin' inside..."
"You don't have to. We'll sit out here an' wait fer news on Mr. Punkin'," Droop-a-Long says. In truth, he's not hungry, but he doesn't want Mushmouse dwelling on this for too long. "I'll make ya some of those boiled turnips ya like so much."
"Y-Ya always did make boiled turnips better'n anybody else around here," Mushmouse replies.
Droop-a-Long smiles and he walks inside the house. The stench of blood hits him hard, but he tries to keep himself under control. "One bowl of boiled turnips comin' up."
Hours later, peace has temporarily returned to the cabin. Punkin's father, Horatio and Mose were taken to prison. Ricochet, after taking a moment to calm down, returned later that evening to eat dinner with the others. After hours of conversation, they all fell asleep outside on the porch, being too uncomfortable to sleep inside due to the blood, using Droop-a-Long and Ricochet as makeshift pillows complete with blankets.
But even with all his friends and some of his family with him, Mushmouse can't be at peace.
He can't sleep, either. It's mostly because of the pain, but also because the ordeal has already plagued his dreams. He'd had to stifle his screams twice so as to not wake anybody, although Ricochet had started when he heard one of his screams.
He remembers when Punkin' Puss had told him he'd go after his own family to save their friendship. He'd never said it to his face, but he'd thought that he was saying it just to make him feel better. He'd never thought he'd actually do it. He'd never thought that Punkin' Puss would throw himself in danger to save him or his cousins.
It then hits him that this is the second time that Punkin' Puss has thrown himself in the crossfire just to save his life. It's then that Mose's words echo in his mind.
"Ya know, this whole situation is all yer fault, Mushmouse. Nothin' would be happenin' to Punkin' Puss iffin' ya learned your place."
Don't believe that, Mushmouse thinks, shaking his head and shivering, even though it makes his body come alive with pain. Don't believe that for one second.
Still, Mushmouse can't help but think there's some truth to his words. Nothing would've happened to Punkin' if their feud had gone on like always.
But that would've meant that he'd be as miserable as always. And that keeps Mose's words away, for a little while.
He gives in to sleep at the crack of dawn, and that's when the doctor arrives, panting. His bloodstained clothes tell of his ordeal. Mushmouse sits up quickly, sending another flash of pain through him.
"Doc? What's happened?" Mushmouse asks, and Ricochet stirs at this. "What happened ta Punkin' Puss?"
"It took a lot of work...but I did it," the doctor says. "I saved 'im. I don't know how he's still alive after all that, but he is."
"He is?!" Ricochet says, jumping up and nearly knocking Mushmouse over.
"Yup. My assistant's tendin' to him now, but he won't be much in a chattin' mood. He's still on a lot of meds. You can wait in the office, but I'll let you know when he wakes up," he said.
Emotion overcomes Mushmouse then, emotion that he can't contain. He wipes his eyes so hard he almost tears them out. "T-Thank goodness!" he cries. "T-Thank goodness he's alive...I-I'm a-gonna rip 'im a new one for makin' me worry like that...!"
"Heh, you an' me both," Ricochet replies, but he's smiling as well and there are some tears in his eyes. "What'd I tell ya? There was still some fight in 'im yet."
"Well, why're we still standin' around fer?" Droop-a-Long asks. "Let's go!"
It's the first time that anybody readily agrees with one of Droop-a-Long's ideas. And with that, the group rushes down the hill and into town, anxious to hear news about their friend.
End of Part 2
The next part of this is going to be the epilogue, I promise! :D
But yeah...kinda dramatic there, huh? I had a different ending in mind, but I couldn't bring myself to kill Punkin' Puss (even though I killed Ricochet off in "Blazin' Trails" and Huck off in "The Ghost of Huckleberry Hound"), and my brother didn't like the idea either. So yup, our favorite hillbilly cat lives! :D And for those wondering, yes, Punkin's family will get their just desserts in the epilogue. I wanted so badly for Ricochet to give it to them, but it's not his district anymore, ya know?
And Ricochet and Droop-a-Long being in this story wasn't JUST because they're my favorites; it's also a reference to some Hanna-Barbera material that shows them interacting with Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse. I couldn't resist the urge to put them in there :D
I'd better be careful lest this story becomes like "Have Guitar, Will Travel"-so big it needs more chapters XD But I promise that next chapter will wrap everything up.
Constructive criticism is welcome!
God bless, iheartgod175