Ohhey, here's an update cos I love you guys.

"A grisly discovery early this morning has shocked the city. A body of a young man, killed and left abandoned in the gutter, was found at about 6:15am when nearby neighbors were awakened by gunshots. Police were called to the scene, and are treating this as a murder. A police spokesperson had this to say:

'The victim was shot in the back of the head with a large-caliber handgun, which would've killed him instantly, we hope. The victim has been identified as a Mr. Steven Saunders, 23. His wallet was still in his pocket, as well as 25 dollars in cash, ruling out robbery as a motive. We urge anyone who may know anything about this to speak up.'

Steven Saunders was well-liked at the University he attended, with friends all over the campus saying they were 'horrified' at what had happened to him. One girl burst into tears upon hearing the news, and another promptly fainted. Steven's mother pleads for the killer to give himself up, saying that 'This was not just a random person on the street… This was my son…'

In the months leading to his death, Steven had become bitter and moody. Friends blamed this on the stress of schoolwork, but a search of his locker revealed several grams of heroin, which may have-"

Zeke hastily turned the TV off, his face a mask of worry. "Okay, okay… Des, you listening?" He snapped his fingers in front of Desmond's face, who up until then had been staring silently at the TV. Desmond blinked twice, snapping out of his trance, and looked at Zeke in curiosity. "You need to hide the gun. Get rid of it. Put it somewhere where no-one will see it. I… I need to wash this godamned blood off me…" Zeke ordered, mumbling the last part. He was trying hard to hide it, but Desmond could still see the worry and concern on Zeke's face.

"Desmond! You hear me?" Zeke asked. Desmond hadn't said a word, which wasn't unusual. But Zeke had thought that his brother would at least show some form of regret, worry. But none of these things could be found on Desmond's blank expression. It was as if Desmond had no idea what he had done wrong.

"Hide the gun, Des. Hurry, before Dad gets up." This time, Desmond nodded. Thankfully, their father had been fast asleep, passed out on the couch in a drunken stupor by the time they had gotten home.

"I gotta wash this stuff off me…" Zeke muttered, making a beeline for the shower. Desmond watched him close the bathroom door behind him, then looked at the black TV screen. Perhaps he understood the seriousness of what he had done, and perhaps he didn't. But whether he understood it or not, Zeke had sounded serious… No, not serious… Scared? Afraid? Of what?

Desmond?

Flippy limped through town, the crutches DJ had given him helping immensely. Every time Flippy's injured foot touched the ground, a bolt of numbing pain was sent up his leg. As he approached the local diner, where he always had his breakfast of toasted waffles at 11 am sharp, his mind was hard at work.

He entered the diner, taking his usual spot near the entrance, and wordlessly someone placed a plate of toasted waffles in front of him.

"You're about twelve minutes late, Flippy." Giggles said, placing a knife and fork beside the plate. "I had to re-heat it. Where've you been?"

Flippy shrugged. Giggles was always one for gossip, and anything he told her would be spread across the town within hours. And when he made it a point to be here at 11 am sharp everyday, no doubt this was setting off her 'GOSSIP ALARM' when he came in late and with crutches. She had been working as a waitress at the diner for quite some time now, a job that she enjoyed for two reasons: The pay was good, and the gossip was better.

"Good morning to you too, Giggles." Flippy neutrally replied, grabbing the knife & fork and slicing his waffles in half. "How's the boyfriend?"

"Cuddles? Oh, he's brilliant! Look what he got me!" Giggles indicated to the bow that she always had on her head, giggling like her name.

"Isn't that the same bow you wear every day?"

"No! Cuddles assured me this was o.3 tones darker red than the usual type! How romantic!" Giggles swooned, and Flippy tried hard not to laugh.

"The modern-day Romeo." He agreed. "Shouldn't you be working now?"

Giggles waved his query away. "Oh, the only person who's in here this early apart from you is Disco Bear, and he's halfway through the 10-ton heart-attack dish he ordered."

"Fair enough." Flippy shrugged, spooning another mouthful of the delicious waffles in his mouth. Delicious was an understatement, really. It was more like 'It's a party in my mouth, and everyone's orgasming.'

"So where HAVE you been? You didn't answer my earlier question." Giggles prodded, itching for gossip.

"Oh, well, I just went and had a talk with that DJ over at his place."

At the mention of DJ's name, Giggles visibly stiffened. Giggles had never really liked DJ, and in return DJ didn't even bother trying to hide his disdain for the pink chipmunk. Flippy still didn't know what the issue between the two was, and he made no effort to pry. Mainly because these waffles were awesome, but he was never one to put his nose where it didn't belong if he could help it.

"He's not that bad a guy once you get to know him, Giggles." He said through a mouthful of waffles. "He's just nervous around new people, I think."

Before Giggles could reply, there was a sudden 'THUD' as someone crashed into the glass door, before a voice shouted out "Damnit, Giggles! When are you going to get automatic doors?"

"Handy's here." Giggles noted, rising out of her chair. "I should get back to work. Nice talking to you, Flippy." She took a few steps towards the door, where Handy was waiting impatiently for someone to open it, and turned back to Flippy as a thought struck her. "Oh, and a word of advice: Whatever DJ says to you, don't believe it. The man's a pathological liar, and he wouldn't hesitate to stab you in the back for the hell of it." She spoke with such venom that Flippy was unfamiliar with from her. Before Flippy could swallow his waffles and reply, she had already left to open the door for Handy and subsequently make him some breakfast.

It was only an hour later when police knocked on the door of the Jazed household. Say what you will about the English police force, but when someone is killed in a public place, they work fast and efficiently. Lyle Jazed remained on the sofa as the door was repeatedly knocked upon, perhaps hoping whoever it was banging at his door at the ungodly hour of 7am would give up.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming, hold your horses…" Lyle shouted at the door, giving up waiting. He picked himself up off the couch, stretching and yawning, before stumbling to the door and ripping it open. "What?" He demanded.

A gold, police issue ID was shoved in his face.

"Mr. Jazed, I'm Senior Constable Joe McAffery, this is Constable Cameron Smith. May we come in?"

"Of… Of course, come in…" Lyle waved the two inside, trying to hide his hangover. "What can I help you with?"

"Tell me, Mr. Jazed." McAffery began, as Smith wandered away, sniffing. "Have you seen the news recently?"

It was an hour later when Flippy got back home. Getting to and from places would be much slower with these crutches. He might have to take a cab, or – god forbid – the bus around town to get to where he needed to. Pondering these thoughts, Flippy shut the door behind him as he entered his house (though in reality, it was more like a bunker), making a beeline for the battered, old couch. Lying down on it and taking the pressure off his leg was a welcome relief, and staring up at the ceiling, Flippy began to think.

Who was DJ? For everything he knew about DJ, there was about ten times as much as he didn't know. Whenever someone asked DJ about his past, he expertly dodged the question with ease. He didn't go out of his way to meet people, seemingly content with being alone. Nothing seemed to bother him… Or, rather, he didn't care. When someone was killed right in front of him he barely reacted, like a few days ago when Mime had been flattened like a pancake by a steamroller driven by, surprise, Lumpy. While those in the vicinity screamed and wept at Mime's crushed body, DJ simply glanced at the horrific sight with an intrigued glance, then simply continued on his way.

Not only that, but it seemed as though he went out of his way to avoid others. He barely attended neighborhood gatherings, and on the rare occasions that he did, he was silent the entire way through. It occurred to Flippy that he was really the only person DJ talked to.

A thought struck Flippy: He still had that note he 'stole' from DJ.

He reached into his jacket, taking the photo and inspecting it. DJ in the picture was happy, smiling cheerfully, a far cry of the DJ now. The other cat, the one that must be Zeke (Flippy was assuming DJ was Desmond) was also grinning toothily. The two didn't look like brothers. Zeke was taller, more muscular, and a few fur shades darker. DJ was uncomfortable in front of the camera, his smile shaky but true, the nervous smile of a nervous child. But his eyes… He couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time this picture was taken, but his eyes let on more than just childlike innocence. A knowing, a glint of something that didn't belong there…

'Who is this guy…' Evil wondered, and it wouldn't be the last time he or Flippy wondered that.

A thought struck Flippy suddenly… No, not a through, but a memory. The first time he talked to DJ, months ago, after DJ's arrival and subsequent death via Evil. As with all Evil's victims, Flippy had personally met them once they respawned at the local hospital to apologize and explain the rules of HT Town if they were new here. No-one knew exactly why the respawn point was the hospital, and how everyone would awake not just anywhere in the hospital, but in a bed, their belongings usually in the bedside drawer. Nor did anyone know what happened to their bodies after death. They just seemed to disappear once you looked away. Flippy had once stared at Toothy's corpse after he was impaled on a tree for a full hour, and looked away only once to wave to Flaky. When he looked back at the body a second later, it was gone.

But that's beside the point.

Flippy would always meet Evil's victims upon respawning to apologize, even if Evil had done it hundreds of times before. Of course, this would've been DJ's first time dying, so Flippy knew to play it carefully. He'd seen some unable to comprehend what had happened, losing their grip on sanity and running away as fast as they could. Flippy never saw them again, and since it was damned near impossible to get through the forest bordering HT Town to the outside world, he'd simply assumed they'd died along the way, outside the town's boundaries, where the reincarnation effect didn't reach there, and their death was permanent.

But that was only about… 20% of those. The remaining 80% didn't go insane… Well, not noticeably, anyway. Still, though.

When Flippy had gone to meet DJ in the hospital, DJ was unconscious. This was to be expected: The more violent the death, the longer it took to awake. But his unconsciousness didn't last long. Only a few minutes after Flippy had arrived, DJ sat upright, suddenly awake, and upon looking at his surroundings, muttered two words that said more than anything else could.

"It's true." DJ had muttered.

Flippy didn't know what the cat was referring to, but later on after the conversation, he figured it out.

DJ had already known about the effects of living in HT Town.

Ding-dong. The shrill ringing of Flippy's doorbell rung through the house, jarring Flippy from his train of through. "It's open." He shouted, knowing full well who it would be. Closing the door behind her, Flaky entered, looking just as cute as ever. Every day, around midday or so, Flaky & Flippy got together for a few games of Go Fish. Even though Flippy wasn't as much as a recluse as when this started, this tradition continued nonetheless, for reasons neither of which were sure of.

"What happened to your leg?" She gasped upon seeing Flippy's bandaged foot.

"Good morning to you too, Flaky." Flippy waved. "Coffee?"

"Flippy, what happened?"

"Long story short, it got caught in a closing door."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. DJ bandaged it up and gave me these crutches to use."

"DJ?" Flaky asked, raising an eyebrow. "The loner cat who lives in the mansion on the edge of the town?"

"Score one for Miss Flaky. I thought I'd talk to DJ, see how things are going. Guy's got a ton of emotional problems, but I'll be damned if he actually admits 'em."

"Uh…Huh." Flaky slowly nodded, the she leaned over and poked Flippy's bandaged foot.

"Ow?" Flippy winced, then glanced at Flippy questioningly

"Just checking." She shrugged sheepishly. Then, her eyes lit up as she got an idea. "Hey Flippy, I've thought of something…"

"Oh? Do tell."

"Me and Petunia are hosting a little gathering, a picnic & movie thing, with a few others in a couple of days. You wanna see if DJ wants to join us?"

"Hmmm… I'm not sure if I'll be able to convince him, but okay, I'll give it a go. Now stop stalling, I've been itching to beat you in Go Fish for the past hour."

"The day you beat me at Go Fish is the day Lifty & Shifty give to charity." Flaky laughed, and the game commenced.

Desmond and Zeke heard the sound of the policeman's footsteps climbing up the stairs, as well as hurried voices. Zeke patted his brother once on the hand. "It's gonna be fine, Des. We'll be fine."

Desmond could only nod silently, suddenly more nervous than before.

The door was pushed open, and in stepped Senior Constable McAffery. Constable Smith followed behind him, sniffing the air conspicuously. "Boys, my name is Senior Constable Joe McAffery, I need to talk to you two."

Zeke glanced at Smith, sniffing around the room, then nodded. "S-sure."

"Alright, have you two seen the news on the TV recently?"

Zeke glanced at Desmond. "No, sir."

"Well, let me get you up to date. At around 6 am this morning, a young man was shot and killed with a large-caliber pistol. Motive unknown, assailant unknown. But, luckily for us, someone caught a glimpse of the murderer as they ran away."

"Sir!" Smith interrupted, bringing everyone's attention to him. "Look what I found." He said, and held up the previously-hidden Desert Eagle. Desmond silently cursed. He should've hidden it better… Not in the bloody sock drawer…

"Look at that." McAffery beamed, grinning. "We've got the murder weapon, we've got the body, all we need is the motive and the murderer." The grin disappeared, and he fixed the two cats with a hardened stare. "What I really want to know, though, is which one of you pulled the trigger."

Desmond returned the officer's cold gaze with one of his own. The officer was smart. McAffery had studied the body himself, noting that the bullet's trajectory meant that it had been fired from below, from someone smaller. It had been fired from behind, and judging by the spots of blood around Zeke's left ear – clearly, he didn't wash as good as he'd hoped – which McAffery undoubtly would've noticed, that meant that Zeke was standing in front of the victim when he was shot. So, really, that left only one logical option.

Desmond knew it, and so did the officer.

Which is why they both were surprised when Zeke stood up, took a deep breath, and said; "I did it. I killed the guy."

"Sorry?" McAffery asked, thrown off his game somewhat, his attention now fully fixed on the jaguar standing before him.

"I shot the guy. There was a struggle, one thing lead to another, and next thing I know I had grabbed his gun, aimed it behind his head, and pulled the trigger."

McAffery silently thought about this for a minute, casting his gaze from the shaking Zeke, to the stunned Desmond, then back to Zeke. Then, finally, he got up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Ezekiel Jazed, you are under arrest for the murder of one Mr. Steven Saunders. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. Is there anything you wish to say before I take you into custody?"

Zeke took another breath, then exhaled. "No." He replied in a calm voice, holding his hands in front of him for the handcuffs. "I have nothing to say for myself."

"NO!" Desmond cried, the sound of his voice stunning everyone. He leapt to his feet, quickly running to his brother's side, tears of desperation in his eyes. "Don't take him away! Don't take him to the 'lectric chair!"

"Desmond…" Zeke began, but his younger brother would not be perturbed.

"No, don't go, Zeke! Don't let them take you away!" He cried, wrapping his arms tightly around Ezekiel's leg.

"I have to, Des." Zeke replied calmly, stroking the young cat's fur.

"Why?" Desmond sobbed, not letting go of his brother's leg. Ezekiel knelt down, wrapped his arms tightly around his brother in a hug that would be the last one in a long time, and whispered only so Desmond could hear it.

"Because you don't deserve to be sent to juvenile." He whispered. Zeke had accepted his fate. Desmond was too young to have his life ruined by juvy, as Zeke had his life ruined by it before he was adopted into the Jazed household. Then, hands were pulling them apart, and Desmond's grip on his brother was wrenched free as his father yanked him away.

"Zeke!" Desmond cried, as McAffery locked the handcuffs on a willing Zeke, and led him out the door and down the stairs, Smith following them. "Please! No!"

"Desmond, calm down!" Lyle shouted, trying to hold his struggling boy. "Desmond!" He yelled as Desmond ripped himself free, sprinting out the door and down the stairs.

Out the window, Ezekiel Jazed tilted his head as McAffery shoved him in the back seat of the police car, Smith already in the driver's seat.

"No." Desmond sobbed, staring out the window. "No…"

As if he heard Desmond, Zeke turned his head, locking eyes with Desmond one final time. He smiled reassuringly, holding his hand up against the window in a last goodbye. Desmond, with tears in his eyes, copied him, placing his hand against the window pane too. The two shared one unspoken goodbye.

Then the police car revved, and drove away.

Desmond watched the car drive away with sad eyes, until it was nothing more than a pinprick in the distance. Then and only then did he remove his hand from the window, tears falling freely, and sighed.

"Zeke…" He whimpered one last time, before putting his head down and sobbing.