Wybie left the kitchen, feeling full from breakfast and accomplished. He'd remembered the dream that he had earlier finally. It was a dream where plates, forks and spoons were singing "Be Our Guest" to him. That was weird... He hadn't even thought about Beauty and the Beast since he was three.

He put the black, skeleton gloves that was his comfort blanket back onto his hands and walked into the living room to sit beside his gramma, who was watching The Weather Channel. Why do adults care so much about the weather so much, anyway?

"It's not going to rain today." She said, giving him a update on Ashland's status.

"That's a first."

She nodded and concentrated on the television.

Maybe I can add onto the collection today... He thought to himself. He owned a small "collection" which was really a whole bunch of pictures of him doing very weird things with very weird insects. There was one that was on his list but he hadn't found yet, a banana slug. It was perfect weather for them to be out.

"I'm going out, to meet the new kid." And get a few pictures. His grandmother didn't much approve of his collection, so he tried to not talk about it.

"Okay. I'm sure you'll like her. You know it's a girl, right?"

"Yeah, I've heard."

"Maybe she'll end up your girlfriend?"

He blushed and groaned. "N-No! I... I don't like her. Besides, that's crazy. I'm not dating anyone." Why did she have to say that?

She laughed at her grandsons expression. "Don't go crazy on me, and most of all don't hurt yourself out there."

"I won't, gramma."

He ran upstairs to his room to grab his coat, his tongs, his camera and his mask and run back down. After running the list through his mind again, he walked out the front door and out to the small shed. He got his homemade bike out and started rolling it out the door though nearly tripped over a small black feline. He frowned at it.

"Are you trying to kill me? Man." I'm STILL talking to cats? After jumping on his bike, the cat found a route to his shoulders. "I really wish that you didn't hate having to get your feet wet as much as you do. Cats really aren't fond of water, are they?"

With the hope that he might see Jonesy again, he pedaled to the Pink Palace, surprised he knew the way as well as he did. Not a single meow from Mr. Grouchy, huh? He thought towards the cat. After finally reaching the faded "palace" he started his search around the parameter. Using his mask, he bent down towards the ground and looked through the fog that was starting to form. It wasn't raining, but there's always some kind of weird weather in Oregon.

"Danger...?" He heard a voice say, along with footsteps. He looked up and saw the familiar flamboyant yellow coat and the blue hair, now added with a Japanese School Boy's hat. He turned the crank on the side of his mask, raising up the long snake-like microscope to see her better. It clicked and she turned directions. He ducked into the fog and waited. The young girl ended up jumping past him and he started to follow. Until a eye appeared in his microscope and he was pulled up, his mask being taken off and his eyes meeting her deep, brown eyes.

"Agh!" He said at the surprise.

"Gripe! The village stalker!" She yelled and gave him a punch in the arm.

What'd I do to deserve that?! "OW!" He rubbed the new bruise. "I-I wasn't stalking you! We were hunting banana slugs." He smiled.

She gave him a look of utter confusion. "Whaddya mean we?"

As if on cue, the cat lowly meowed. It stuck it's head out of Wybie's long, black coat and climbed up onto his shoulders.

"HA. You're cat's not wild! He's a wuss puss!" She looked satisfied with herself. The cat hissed at the name she'd labeled him with.

"What?" Wybie defended his friend. "He hates to get his feet wet, jeez." He grabbed the mask from her, got the tong out of one of his coat pockets, and resumed his search with the cat placed on his back.

"Wuss Puss..." She mused. He ignored it. Maybe you're the wuss puss.

"So... That doll. Did you make it look like me?" He'd found a slime trail! It can't be far off...

"Oh, no." His voice sounded like a robot behind the welders mask. "I found it that way. It's older than gramma." He stood up to look at her. The cat jumped off of his back and onto the green beetle that Jonesy had arrived in. "Old as this house, probably." He started back on the trail.

"C'mon. Blue hair, my swampers, and raincoat?" YES. The slug had slivered in front of him. Look at the size of this thing! He picked it up with his tongs. It was gross and slimy! Just the way he liked it but there was no way was he touching that.

"Heyyy! Check out slugzilla!" He put it in front of her face, giving a weird look like it was going to eat her freckled face off.

She didn't look amused. Not even smile a bit? The girl pushed the slug down and out of sight.

"You're just like them." ...I'm like a slug? Is she calling me disgusting?"Huh?" He looked at his new addition to the collection in bewilderment.

"I meant my parents! They don't listen to me either."

"Uh-huh." Is all she going to do is complain about her parents? I really need these pictures, woman! "You mind?" He shoved his camera towards her and she reluctantly took it.

He let her take pictures of him pretending to eating the slug, have slug snot, let the slug be a monster, and have a slug mustache. The mustache's what got her.

"Ew!" She laughed at him and he exchanged the slug, throwing it back into the fog, for his camera. He hid it in his coat pocket. I have to remember to get these pictures developed. I hope that she can take a picture like she can dye her hair.

He looked up towards the faded mansion that was in front of them that had passed it's glory years. "Y'know... I've never been inside the Pink Palace." He said, making conversation.

"You're kidding."

"Grandma'd kill me. Thinks it's... dangerous or somethin'."

She questioned the house herself. "Dangerous?"

"Well, she had a twin sister." Wybie started for his bike, getting what he came for. The pictures.

"So?"

"W-When they were kids, grandma's sister disappeared. She says she was... stolen." Why did I even bring this up? Memories of trying to talk about it with his grandmother flooded his mind. She always seemed sad and down when she had to talk about it, so he didn't bring it up that much.

"Stolen? Well, what do you think?"

No one's ever asked me that. "Uh..." He thought on it a bit. "I-I-I don't know. Maybe she just ran away...?"

A voice was heard from a questionable distance. "Wybourne!"

The cat took it's place on Wybie's back. "Look, I gotta go."

"Wait a minute!" She'd yelled at him, but he was already gone to his house.