Meanwhile, the three friends continue their search. Traipsing past another corner of the stadium, they scan the area once more, upon which quickly locating Robin Mask, who is chatting with Grandpa Muscle about strategies for the next match; like Hanzo, Robin has his hands folded behind his back, discreetly cloaked by his red cape. The trio exchanges curious looks. "Could Mr. Mask really be the guilty party?" Silver whispers. "He never seemed like the devious type."
"I'm not sure," Shannon replies. "But this does certainly look suspicious." Hoping to learn more, the three quietly traipse up to the masked knight; Silver gently taps his shoulder. "Pardon us, Mr. Mask." Robin slowly turns his helmet clad face to her. "Yes, lass?"
"Have you, perchance, heard about Ichiman's hands getting glued to his head?"
Upon hearing this, Robin's red eyes narrow as he begins shaking his fist with fury. "Ooh, that scoundrel! He's surely gotten what he deserved for nearly drowning King Muscle and me in that tank with that dratted squid!(To say nothing of those obstreperous ferrets.) Why, I believe-" He stops short when he notices that he's absentmindedly opened his hands, revealing a collection of small, brightly colored puzzle pieces glued to his palms. "Egad."
Silver blinks her deep brown eyes in amazement. "You glued Ichiman's hands to his head, Mr. Mask?" Robin chuckles politely, "Oh, mercy no, me dear. Much as I might've liked to, I didn't punish Ichiman, discretion being the better part of valor and all that. I'd been putting together a jigsaw puzzle and those pesty ferrets kept scattering the pieces everywhere; I hadn't much choice but to glue the pieces down. I put the glue on a table in the main lobby once I was done." Silver smiles. "Certainly, Mr. Mask. Thank you for your time." Robin beams. "You're most welcome, lass."
As the group begins to leave, however, Robin suddenly yells, "OOH! OUCH! OH! GREAT SCOTT!" causing them to immediately stop in their tracks. Robin then whips around to see three ferrets biting on his cape and two more chomping on his kneepads again. The masked knight woefully groans, "Oh, marshmallows!" as he buries his face in his hands. "Please don't worry, Mr. Mask," Shannon says helpfully. "We'll get rid of them." She takes a small packet of corn chips out of her pocket and tosses a handful of them ahead. "Snack time, guys!" Upon this, the little animals quickly let go and scurry away. The masked knight breathes a blissful sigh of relief. "Ahh, thank you, me dear." Shannon smiles. "You're very much welcome, sir. Please take care." Upon this the trio then set off again. Hopefully this is the last we've seen of those ferrets. Silver thinks.
Meanwhile, Kid, after having bought a special glue solvent in town, returns to Ichiman's dressing room. "Okay, I got the recommended solvent." he notes. "Ahh, very good," Ichiman sneers sarcastically. "And it only took you a half hour. I'd applaud you, but my hands are stuck to my head!"
"And there they will stay, because you are a crabby appleton!" the wrestler replies firmly, folding his arms. "I apologize for the harsh language, but I'm upset." As Kid begins to leave, Ichiman begs, "Wait, wait, please help me." Kid hesitates for a moment and sighs, "Ohh...all right." Hoping that he wouldn't later regret this decision, Kid then traipses up to Ichiman and begins spraying the solvent all over his hair; once he finishes, something suddenly catches the wrestler's eye. His brow wrinkles with concern. "Uh oh..."
"Uh oh? What uh oh?" a perplexed Ichiman inquires.
"It says that it shouldn't be used with artificial hair coloring." Kid replies dolefully. "I'm so sorry..."
"Well, I don't see what the concern is, I'm a natural blonde."
"Or it could cause a severe reaction."
"GET THIS STUFF OFF OF ME!" Ichiman shrieks. Frantically, Kid dabs some water on a washcloth and tries to wipe the solvent out, unfortunately without success. "Hmm," he muses, picking up the tube of glue. "Maybe I could just call the glue factory...Ooh, this is kinda' sticky." As he tries to put down the offending tube, Kid suddenly hears a seething sound and looks up to see smoke pouring from Ichiman's head. "Ooh, this is not good."
"AAAAAAUGHHHHH!" Ichiman screams as he leaps from his chair. Hoping to calm the situation, Kid urgently notes, "P-please don't be upset, sir, it's not that bad."
"Oh really?" Ichiman snarls. "I beg to differ, Kid Musclehead!" A disconcerted look crosses Kid's face as the smoke begins to dissipate. "That's it!" Ichiman thunders as he begins running toward a phone on a nearby end table. "Everyone in that arena is going to pay!"(1) Frantically, Kid runs up to him and grabs his left arm. "No, please don't, no-" He stops short upon discovering that his hand is now stuck to Ichiman's arm. "Oh, pancakes, now I'm stuck!" The wrestler tries valiantly to pull his arm free, but unfortunately has no success. "Ooh, that didn't help."
"Lovely...just lovely..." Ichiman grumbles.
(1) How he intended to answer the phone with his hands glued to his head, we may never know.