Thanks for the patience, my dears! Gradschool has begun for me, which will hopefully lead me to actually being published someday. But that doesn't mean I'm stopping my fanction! Enjoy the latest chapter, and as always, major thanks to my major editor, Lies.

As the wolf continued to lose members of his pack, the peaceful huntsman led the heroes into his past territory. Tension hung heavily around the red cloaked maiden and her wolf, but more important secrets lay around the corner. Though the heroes gained one answer, they were ambushed before any more could be reached. They had no choice but to retreat, and think of a new plan…

Minnie was still very confused about her relationship with Mickey, yet when he had told her that they 'oughta split up', she suddenly burst into loud, wailing tears. Mickey nearly ran his motorcycle into a lamppost, but managed to screech his vehicle to a halt in order to console his crying mess. He flailed as he tried to explain that the entire group should split up – which only made her cry louder. It took a while but he eventually managed to convey he only meant they should try looking for clues on their own, and it would not be permanent. Minnie managed to calm down by the time they regrouped with the others to explain this plan, though Daisy still smacked Mickey with her purse for daring to make Minnie cry.

Donald took the initiative right away at the beginning of the week, forming an idea as he locked up his shop for the day while he was out. He headed straight to the police station, which was only a hop skip and a jump from his shop. The bright blue building shone as a beacon of hope, but Donald wished there wouldn't be too many cops hanging around at this time in the morning. He was relieved to only see a few squad cars, and he whistled pleasantly as he knocked on the glass doors of the station. He could see neat and tidy desks inside, and only a handful of officers going to and fro, too busy to pay too much attention to what he would do.

One officer noticed Donald, and began to rise from his desk. He was a lanky horse with a pitiful build, and his lackadaisical appearance made Donald wonder if they really cared who applied for the badge anymore. The horse opened the door and looked down at Donald curiously as if actually surprised someone was coming in to report a crime. "Uh, good mornin'. Can I help ya with somethin'?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could help you!" Donald chirped as he held up his tool box which was a weary rusty red. "You guys have been doing such a great job on the streets that I've come to offer a free shoe shining to everyone in the force! It's my way of saying thanks for protecting us from those mean, nasty wolves!"

The horse believed the compliment, if his humble blush was any indication. He took a quick glance at his big black shoes – which were rather scuffed up and dirty, now that he took the time to notice – and so he opened the door wider to let Donald in. "That's real nice of ya, sir! Shucks, I can't remember the last time I got somethin' for free! This must be my lucky day!" He grabbed Donald's hand and shook it hard. "I'm Officer Horace Horsecollar, and I'm head of the Rose Red division! That's the one that handles major crimes, ya know." He showed Donald to his desk, which was cluttered with unfinished paperwork.

"Name's Donald." He put his toolbox down, and began to take out several items for the shining process. Some might think it was as simple as rubbing a cloth on a shoe, but true professionals knew how to make their reflection shine in a shoe. Even if this was a plot to get information, Donald still took pride in his job. "Have a seat right there." He popped open a fresh can of shoe polish, and stirred it with a tiny stick. "Have there been any 'major crimes' lately?"

Horace sat in his wooden chair and stuck out his left boot, arching his arms behind his head to relax. "Not really… mostly we've been arrestin' wolves. That's what the rest of the division is out doin'. Startin' ta get ta a point where it's all we do anymore!"

"But they deserve it, right?" Donald worded his question just as carefully as he dabbled the shoe polish on with a light brush. "Haven't they been causing trouble?"

Horace's pleasant demeanor began to wane now that he had a chance to talk about work. "That's what the Grimms have been sayin', but sometimes I just dunno…"

"Horace Horsecollar, the things you don't know could fill up a library." Another officer now stood behind his chair, and Donald paused in fright. Was the jig up? This cop was a cow, and overly familiar to horse, since she was hugging his neck from behind, looming her head over his. "Now what's going on here? You were supposed to come with me to check out the new prison."

"Aw, Clarabelle, I'll be there soon." Horace replied sweetly without taking insult to the insult. "But this guy's offerin' us all a free shoe shine, on account of us getting' all those wolves!"

Clarabelle raised an eyebrow, and Donald grinned nervously, quickly rubbing Horace's shoe with a fresh rag. "… Well, I don't know if we deserve that." Clarabelle decided to divulge with a sigh. "Half the time we have to make up charges in order to get the wolves in handcuffs. Just yesterday I arrested a wolf for loitering with his littering! It's ridiculous! It's a joke, that's what it is." She poked Horace's cheek over and over, trying to make him agree.

"Then why bother arresting them at all?" Donald took his time in rubbing Horace's shoe back and forth. What luck to get the two most talkative cops in Grimm City! "If nobody's complaining about them, then where are the problems coming from?"

"From the highest orders, that's who." Clarabelle came around Horace's chair, and then sat in his lap, snuggling up to him. Horace casually pet her shoulder, and since no one else was looking, this overwhelming display of affection must've been common. "What the Brothers Grimm say, goes. Or else we don't get as much money as we need from the city. They help with our salary, so we don't have a choice. And even if we try to follow up on other cases, they demand we only focus on the wolves. Like the other crimes don't matter as much."

"It's a real shame." Horace added with a sad sigh with Clarabelle nuzzling his neck. "Some of those wolves are real nice fellas. They just wanna help each other out."

Donald found it difficult to remain on task with his investigation when the people he was trying to interrogate looked ready to make out in front of him. "… I guess you two are an item, huh."

Clarabelle giggled, her arms flopping over the arms of the chair. "How could you tell?"

"Lucky guess." Donald snapped the cloth in his hands, readying himself for the other shoe. "I'm happy for you. Real happy. Some people have all the luck…" His bitterness escalated with every wipe of the shoe, thinking less about the plight of the wolves and more of the plight of his failed wooing. "Some people can get any girl they want… some people don't even want girls until that one comes along… And of course it's the one girl who doesn't notice you're alive… and some guys feel like they're going crazy, because they don't have a chance in the world but it's not like you can change how you feel, so what're you supposed to do when she's all sweet and pretty and you're just a poor dumb tailor who can't even afford to buy one of her CDs-"

"Girl troubles?" Clarabelle interrupted, taking over the conversation.

Donald glanced up. "… Maybe."

"Well, have ya told her about it?" Horace flopped a lazy arm around Clarabelle's shoulder. "Nothin' gets done if no one says anythin'. If she doesn't know yer alive, then ya gotta show her. Waitin' doesn't do much of anythin'. That's how I got Clarabelle. Told her I liked her. Simple as that."

"Oooh, my man is so smart!" Clarabelle snuggled in even closer to Horace, kicking her feet about and kissing his cheek. "I swear, sometimes I just want to lock you up in that new prison so no other girl can even look at you!"

Donald ignored the sappiness oozing between them, taking in the relationship advice along with another important tidbit. "Wait… you said you were a new prison? What's wrong with the one we have now?" The money to build a new prison could only come from one source and it was another piece to this ever growing puzzle.

Clarabelle paused, lips pressing together in contemplation. She was still an officer, and even when indulging in her own love induced ditziness, there were some things they weren't supposed to talk about. "… It's official police business. I don't think we can really talk about it. And we really should get going, Horace. It's supposed to be finished by the time of the class reunion."

Horace tapped his feet together, and smiled at the gleam of his shoes. "Gosh, they look brand new! Thanks a bunch, Donald! Are ya sure I can't pay ya?"

Donald smirked, the nail in his beak tilting upwards. "No… believe me, you've given me what I needed."

As Donald shone for solutions, Goofy hit the streets with his own idea. It had been a while since he had left the forest, so his walk was slow as he took his time gazing around the city. It was even bigger and dirtier than he last remembered, and he supposed it would only grow in both. Things were always changing, but as he advanced towards the nearest block he was confident one corner of the city hadn't changed at all. He stopped in front of a tall home that was shaking from the excitement inside. The windows were broken, the front door was falling off its hinges, and there were two sets of yelling voices within.

He had decided to bring along one of his oldest weapons for this trip –a silver axe that had dulled with time and misuse. He didn't want to hurt the people he was coming to see, but he also wanted to be able to defend himself. He hummed a small diddy – "Oh, the world owes me a livin'…" – and strode up the stairs, opening the door and not flinching as it fell off in his hand. He let it flop to the floor, and walked inside the damaged building.

"I'll skin you from head to toe, you miserable old miser!" screamed an elderly duck to the right, using a flipped over dining room table as a shield while she shot from her trusty shotgun. Her tattered orange and red dress shook as she took shot over shot, and she only stopped to adjust her spectacles and to tuck away some of her curly gray hair.

"You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, you blind bat!" An equally powerful and angry scream came to the left, where another duck the same age had constructed a crudely made catapult made out of kitchen appliances to throw weathered books at his opponent. His blue outfit was equal in tears with hers, and he too had to make time to adjust his glasses, old age catching up with him.

"Howdy, Mister and Missus McDuck." Goofy called out during the pause in battle. It was business as usual for these past clients. "Sorry fer droppin' by without a call, but I wanted ta ask ya somethin'."

"You can ask that wretched rotting man why he won't die!" Mrs. Goldie McDuck snapped at Goofy while reloading her now empty shotgun as fast as her wrinkly fingers could go. "He doesn't know when to give up! I'll have his hide yet!"

"If you're on her side, then you're my enemy!" Mr. Scrooge McDuck rebutted, and now he took aim at Goofy, firing off copies of the dictionary and thesaurus.

Goofy calmly took out his axe from its holding place on his back, and sliced the oncoming books in half. "Still keepin' the marriage fresh. Always good ta know some things stay the same." He stayed put, showing that he was on nobody's side, and the middle was possibly the safest place for him. Everyone in the H.A.H.A knew of 'the Fisherman and his wife', an absolutely horrid couple that kept ordering huntsmen to take the other out. Years ago, Goofy had been hired by Scrooge to finish off Goldie, but then she in turn offered to raise the price if he took out Scrooge instead. Then Scrooge raised his price, and then Goldie raised hers, and Goofy wound up going back and forth several times before giving up altogether and decided his headache wasn't worth the escalating prize. He ducked as a stray bullet hit the doorframe behind him. "I dunno if ya heard, but I up and quit the H.A.H.A. business some time ago. I'm out of the game fer good."

Goldie turned her head towards Goofy as she fished on the floor for dropped kitchen knives. "Is that so? That's a real shame, dear. You were very good at your job. But maybe it's time you settled down, and found yourself a nice girl." She then threw the nearest knife she could find, missing Scrooge but severing an important part of his catapult and rendering it useless.

"What the boy should do is look into his retirement funds!" Scrooge picked up one of the fallen books, which so happened to contain a hidden pistol, and took aim. "The economy is nobody's friend lately, and if he wants to be able to settle down, he should take a good look at his records and see what he can afford to spare."

"Aw, I'll be all right. Still got a long life in me." Goofy rubbed his nose, smelling smoke – oh, Goldie was getting a makeshift cannon ready, that's all. "But from what I hear, there's some funny business goin' on within the H.A.H.A., and I can't get a straight answer outta nobody. Yer one of their oldest clients, so maybe ya can tell me what's goin' on."

Goldie shoved a heavy bag of gunpowder into the opening of the canon, coughing a little as some dusted around her beak. "Frankly, we'd love to know that too. We went around trying to hire some of those nice boys, but none of them will take us up anymore. Every one of them says they've already been bought out."

Goofy stuck his fingers in his ears and patiently waited until the cannonball had been fired, utterly destroying the fireplace near Scrooge. Once the wreckage had settled and everyone was sure the ceiling wasn't going to collapse, he pulled his fingers out and kept on asking. "Every last one of 'em? The entire organization? That's a lot of money fer a lot of fellas…"

Scrooge dragged a steel baseball behind him as he picked up a fallen brick from the fireplace. "The only ones richer than us are the Brothers Grimm. They've bought out every single huntsman, so now I have to finish off this hag myself. You just can't get good help these days!" He began to bat away bricks like baseballs, not caring where they landed.

Goofy rubbed his chin in thought, holding up the axe to his face to deflect any strikes near him. It did add up to what Lefou had nearly spilled. The Brothers Grimm had hired Gaston and Lefou to steal the feathers away from Ludwig, but then why buy out the rest of the huntsmen? There was no loyalty to these men and they may not have babbled if they were found out. Something bigger was brewing underneath the surface. Maybe one of his new, smart friends could figure it out. "Gosh… that is real strange… but I won't take up any more of yer time. Thanks fer havin' me!"

"Anytime, dear." Goldie shoved her table over, whipping around a chained mace. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for tea?"

Scrooge began to charge into battle with a heavy sword while shouting , "We've got a fresh batch of crumpets on the stove!"

"Maybe next time. Have a nice day!" Goofy waved a happy goodbye, leaving the couple to their casual catastrophe. While he was sure he had learned something useful, he couldn't pin down where this new information fit. He hoped his friends were having better luck than he was.

This was the worst day in the history of worst days! Nothing could compare to the sheer horror! The Brothers Grimm were devious, the huntsmen were horrid, but this? This was the king supreme of devastation! Why now? Why here? Why, oh why…

"Why do I have a BLEMISH?!" Daisy screeched as she clutched her golden hand mirror, unable to believe the absolutely disgusting face that looked back at her. "It's, like, all this detective work! It's totally giving me stress! And now, like, look at me! I am mucho hideous!"

Her assistant tried to keep up with Daisy as the anguished popstar paced back and forth in her gigantic bedroom, walking out a hole in her furry pink carpet. The deer was used to these tantrums, but she always needed to find a new solution to solve them. "Um… Princess Daisy, I don't… see it?"

"How can you, like, not see it?" Daisy whipped around, jabbing a manicured finger under her right eye. "It's right there! It's so huge! It's, like, ready to have its own career!" There was a chance something could have been there, under Daisy's feathers, and under the excessive amounts of make-up, if one had a microscope and knew exactly what they were looking for. "Now I'll never find my prince! I'm sooo ugly!" She wailed and flopped backwards onto her gigantic bed, kicking her high heels up in the air.

Fawn Deer was saved when she heard voices chattering away in her headset, and so she checked off an item on her board. "It'll be all right, your highness… and we just got the footage of the concert, as you wanted. Send it in, boys!" At her command, the pink door opened, and two burly gorillas walked in carrying a widescreen television and placing it in front of the bed. As they plugged it in and adjusted the recorded footage, Fawn inched near the closet, hoping to find an extra solution in there, just in case. "And if that doesn't help, why don't we go for a shopping spree? That always cheers you up."

Daisy sniffled, sitting up and tugging together the ends of her pink bathrobe – today's theme today was pink and nothing else, including the wig that was as disheveled as her mood. "I guess so…"

Fawn opened the wide door to the walk in closet, and scanned the large array of available options. "There's plenty here that's definitely last season, and some stuff that's really worn out… like, here we are! These shoes!" She picked up a tough pair of black stilettos, dangling them in her hand. "The heels are ready to fall off. We can trash them and get you a new pair."

"Oh, we can totally get Donald to fix those." Daisy dismissed the problem, finding a spare brush on the bed sheets and tending to her wig. "It'd be no problem for him."

Fawn blinked, still holding onto the pair. She'd never heard her employer talk about keeping something that was, Mother Goose forbid, old! "… Really?"

"Totally! He's a cobbler. He's got, like, the cutest little shop too." Daisy's voice was picking up with every compliment, stringing her hair through the brush. "And he's, like, super sweet. He'd make such a good prince, except he's all poor. And would you believe he's never heard of me? That's, like, mega super poor. We really need to, like, work on that."

Fawn was still befuddled but if it kept her diva in a good mood, then she'd stick onto this path for dear life before another tantrum was pitched. "So are you saying if he was rich, he'd be perfect prince material?"

Daisy froze in mid brush. "… Uh. Wait. I didn't say…" But then that was kind of what she said, wasn't it? "No, no… it's… look, you remember my huge prince qualifications! Aside from the rich thing, he has to be brave," Which Donald was, facing the huntsmen, the ogre, and the trio in his shop. "And he has to be sweet," Which Donald also was, sticking up for Minnie when she needed the boost , showing brotherly affection for Goofy, and even helping Mickey despite their fights, "And, uh, hold on, he also has to be strong!" Donald was. "And have a job!" Donald had one. "And have blue eyes!" Donald had them. "And… uh… rich! He's still not rich! He's still not rich, and will never be rich! So he is definitely not my prince, okay? He can't be my prince!" She grabbed Fawn by the arms and shook her, vigorously desperate for an agreement. "He's not my prince, okay?!"

Fawn slowly pointed her finger towards the television. "… I think it's all ready, your highness."

"Oooh, right!" Daisy dropped her assistant, thankfully distracted. She snatched the remote out of one of the gorilla's hands, and sat back down on her bed, ready. "So that huge puss in boots was at my concert, so I wanted to see, like, what happened before he stormed my stage." She pressed play on the camera footage and squinted at the screen. These cameras had been pointed at the audience, so she looked for any signs of strangeness. She was momentarily diverted by seeing Minnie and Mickey together – "Could they be any cuter?" – but fortunately she spotted the gigantic cat finding a seat only a few rows behind the mice. He looked normal, and certainly didn't look like he planned on causing any kind of ruckus. Due to his girth, he took up a few seats, and no one was choosing to sit behind him. Except…

… Except there was some kind of movement in a seat behind him. Then, out of nowhere, a feather was jabbed into his ear! The cat jerked in place, and that's where the insanity had begun. Daisy paused the video and rewound it, trying to get another look. As the assault happened once more, she could see this time that a gloved hand was doing the jabbing, but the glove wasn't attached to anything! No wrist, no arm, it appeared and vanished in the same instant! Daisy leaned in closer, with the gorillas and Fawn leaning in too, curious to the discovery. Again, Daisy rewound – the seat behind the cat was shifting in a way she couldn't describe. The concert lights were shining oddly on it as well.

"What are you looking for?" Fawn asked, tilting her head every which way to try and catch what Daisy was catching.

"Like, I'm not sure, but…" Daisy almost had her forehead glued to the TV. "… I think there's someone sitting there." She tapped the screen, at the shifting seat.

"I don't see anyone." Fawn shrugged. "Unless they're invisible."

What was supposed to come off as a joke lit Daisy's eyes, and she jumped on her heels, brilliance blasting in her head louder than any song. "I know what's totally going on! Get the limo! We're going to Fabric Felix Junior!"

Fabric Felix Junior was a quaint tailor shop that had good business since he kept up with the ever evolving technology. He had taken a solemn vow to never use magic in any of his products, just like his father before him. On the same day as the rest of the revelations, he was fine tuning his favorite sewing machine when the bells above his door rang, signaling a customer. He looked over and tilted his hat politely to the cute little mouse maiden who made her way in. "Good afternoon ma'am, and welcome to Fabric Felix Junior! If there's fabric, I can fix it!"

Minnie smiled sweetly at the introduction. "I'm glad to hear that. I have a little tear in my red riding hood, and I'd like to have it fixed before I go out again."

"Can do!" The bells rang again, and Felix immediately went into his greeting. "Good afternoon sir, and w-w-w-WOLF!" Lo and behold, behind Minnie was Mickey, who was getting used to the frightened reactions wherever he went. "N-Now hold up here! I don't want any trouble, you hear?"

"And you won't be getting any!" Minnie held up her hands, making sure to keep in front of Mickey in case he lashed out. "He's my bodyguard… he won't do anything, I promise. He's really nice! Right?" She was ready to give Mickey a warning look, but to her surprise, he wasn't growling or snarling. He wasn't happy, but he was putting up with the treatment, hands in his pockets, and a sour expression on his face.

Felix slowly made his way over, not trusting the wolf but unable to refuse a customer. "If you say so, ma'am… I'll need to take a closer look at your hood."

"Mm-hm." Minnie watched Mickey a little longer, and in turn he quirked an eyebrow. She hesitated, and then slowly untied the hood around her neck, and folded it up, handing it over to Felix with all the delicacy of a fragile package. Mickey noted to himself it was the first time he had ever seen her without the hood, and his eyes lingered on her exposed neck.

Felix visibly relaxed now that he had material to work it and he thumbed it between his fingers. "Now this is a beauty! It's seen some years, I can tell! Made the old fashioned way, too. And that's how we run things here. No magic, no sir! Like my father did, and his father before him!" He proudly carried the precious hood to the sewing machine, leaving the mice to chat amongst themselves.

Minnie felt uncomfortable without the presence of her mother's hood, and wound up tugging on the hem of her dress, almost feeling exposed. She tried not to think about it. "… You're acting very… behaved today."

"Yup." Mickey didn't want to embarrass himself by going into the unmanly details of why his attitude was changing. Being angry was so utterly exhausting, and not a lot of good came out of it. It was as if everyone expected him to be furious all the time, and it was an unhealthy way of living. He wasn't even mad at Minnie anymore, though they hadn't still 'officially' made up. One had to be in a relationship to break up and make up, and their lines were still blurred. It was why he had insisted on going along with this little side trip despite the fact, as Minnie had pointed out, he was the one to suggest splitting up. They could split up after they got this chore done, he had replied, and Minnie let it be. "Ya know," he said to break the tension, "I feel real lucky. This has ta be the first time anyone's seen ya without yer hood on, Red."

Minnie's eyes went down, embarrassed. "… Well, I had to take it here. I can't let Granny sew it anymore… she'd turn it into a six armed sweater. But I've worn it for so long, that I feel… different… without it. Like I'm not myself."

Mickey felt a twinge of guilt. "… Maybe I shouldn't have come along?"

"No." Minnie replied at once. "It's okay if you're here." She didn't add on, but she did lift up her eyes for a moment. Yes, she was exposed, but it was okay if he was the only one to see her exposed. Mickey understood this meaning, and felt hot under the collar of his jacket. He had thought the best way to advance a relationship was physical, but apparently great strides could be taken simply by offering one's presence. She trusted him, and that made him stupidly happy. He didn't realize he was smiling until Minnie copied his smile.

"Ya still look good, even without the hood." If he was going to make her comfortable, then he'd best treat her as he normally did. "But now I can't call ya Red, if yer not Red." He pretended to give the problem some thought, and then placed both hands under her chin, forcing her to keep her head upwards. "There we are, nice and red now!"

Minnie's cheeks were crimson from his touch, and she squeaked. "I-I am not."

"Red as apples. Hm!" He slid his hands up to cup her cheeks, taking his unabashedly unashamed flirting higher. "If I bite ya, am I gunna sleep forever?" Minnie squeaked again but showed no signs of resistance. He wasn't going to neck her in the shop – as terribly tempting as it was – but it was fun to see her flutter at his fake threats. It'd keep her mind off missing her mother, at least. He was ready to try and get her ears to turn red too, when he took a deep whiff – he was supposed to smell her hair, but something else got in the way. He paused, and sniffed again. He pulled back from Minnie – much to her confused disappointment – and sniffed again and again. "… I know this smell… it's Gaston! And the Brothers Grimm! Those three have been here!"

Felix had been ignoring their antics up to this point, but at Mickey's announcement, he began to pale while the sewing machine clamored away. "… Gee! Well, I, uh, that… I get a lot of customers, you know? It sure is hard to keep track of them all! This'll be done real quickly, so if you could just stay there and not touch anything or smell anything or do anything…"

The only one who could tell Mickey not to do something was Minnie, so Mickey went about following his nose, and Minnie didn't stop him. The smell was coming from the shelves where small cardboard boxes were arranged left to right. Mickey picked the right box, and opened the flaps. "… There's nothin' in here." He couldn't believe such a big clue lead him to nothing. He stuck his hand in there anyway, and felt something silky under his fingers. He looked in – he saw nothing, yet he was definitely touching something. He yanked onto the touch, and held it out in front of him. "Wait a minute… this stuff is invisible! It's an invisible fabric!"

Minnie gasped, and Felix was nearly hiding behind his sewing machine, none of them taking notice of the big shadow outside of the store. "I-I-Invisible fabric? Why, that's… nooo, of course it isn't! It's… special fabric, that only the smartest people in the world can see!" Neither mouse was buying it, and Felix moaned, hugging his machine. "Oh, I'm ruined! I broke the family oath!"

"Start talkin'." Mickey advanced on Felix, his not-girlfriend in tow. "What is this, why do ya have it, and why does it smell like those no good brothers?"

"They're the ones that ordered it!" Felix whined, ready to drop to his knees for mercy if that's what it took. "They said if I didn't help them create a special kind of invisible cloak, they'd close me down for good! But you can't make that kind of stuff without magic, so they made me work with this awful fortune teller! I didn't have a choice, I swear!"

"Oh, you poor thing." Minnie came to Felix's side, offering him some gentle petting. "There there…"

"What did they want it for?" Mickey frowned, holding up the fabric to the light.

"They wouldn't tell me." Felix took off his hat, wringing it pitifully in his hands. "But I went and soiled my family's good name…"

"It's not your fault, and you didn't soil anything!" Minnie insisted trying to keep Felix from falling back on his knees. "We're here to help! We're going to solve this mystery… and once we do, I promise, no more bad things will happen to you ever again!"

Her promise was broken before it even started, as the shadow from outside smashed the front door open. The newest customer was an immense snake, taller than all three shop residents combined. It hissed in contrast to Minnie and Felix's screams, and it slithered quickly towards them. The trio ran out of the way before it could sink its fangs into anyone. The rest of its long body filled into the shop, knocking down shelves and racks, smashing anything in its way. It turned around, making way to lash out again, its tail slamming near the sewing machine.

"Mother's red riding hood!" Minnie yelled in horror, the last remnants of her mother in unspeakable danger. "It'll be destroyed!"

"Not if I have any say so!" Mickey leaped into the fray, heading towards the snake with his claws bared. The snake saw him, and dove its head for him, its jaws open wide for a mouse snack. Mickey shot his arms up, catching the upper part of the snake's jaw. He growled as he struggled to keep the snake's mouth from closing, his strength versus that of a monster.

The snake lashed its tail violently, and Felix clutched his heart, terrified. "My store! He's gunna wreck it!"

Mickey was in danger, and Minnie believed it to be all her fault, because for a split second she had cared more about her cape than her own life. But this was no time to be swallowed by blame, she had to think fast. Her eyes flickered back to the hood, back to the sewing machine, and she began to run. With speed only a mouse was capable of, she used her momentum to grab the machine, swing herself around, and deliver a mighty kick to one of the snake's fangs. It cracked off under her boot, and she grabbed it once she hit the floor. "Felix! Do you have a hammer?"

His tools were scattered all over the ground, but a hammer was one of them. He got a hint of Minnie's idea and picked the tool up. "We can fix it!" He sprinted to Minnie and the two climbed on top of the thrashing snake, which now shook even harder to get them off. But they managed to stay on, and Minnie stabbed the snake down with its own fang. Felix banged on top of the fang, driving it in deeper and deeper, until the snake could take no more of it and succumbed to its fatal wound. Mickey hopped out of its mouth, and the snake's head fell down, dead as a doornail.

Minnie slid off of the snake as Mickey caught her, and as he looked over the incredible scene, he knew he had seen this creature before. "… Didn't the brothers have a pet snake in their office?"

"Yes…" Minnie stayed in his protective arms, clinging to his jacket. "… But it was much, much smaller."

Felix was catching his breath, wiping sweat off of his head with the back of his arm. "I'm no expert… but sounds like… more magic."

"It sounds like more trouble from the Brothers Grimm." Mickey eased Minnie down, his temper showing signs of returning.

"Don't you worry, Mickey." Minnie took back her fixed hood, and tied it neatly around her neck. "I'll be sure to ask Mortimer Grimm all about it, and I won't stop until I get an answer!"

Mickey blinked, and glanced back at Minnie. "… Huh?"

Minnie pulled the hood over her head. "Don't you remember? Tomorrow, I have a date with Mortimer."

So much for not being mad at anyone anymore.

End of Chapter Seven.