CHAPTER ELEVEN

I looked at the man standing in the doorway. I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Any guy who wears a black cape, dark shades, and asks his local cartoon police force to meet him at a shady bar in Los Angeles, California had to be up to something sinister. And, in my opinion, Judge Doom was definitely not what he seemed. Why would a human being go hire a bunch of toon weasels anyways?

"Hey, boss," Smart Ass greeted the Judge toughly. He leaned his back on the bar and folded his arms, attempting to look totally awesome and cool. "We were here on time, like ya asked."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Judge Doom replied coolly. His voice reminded me of oil running down a pipe: smooth as silk. It made me uncomfortable and I shifted back and forth in my seat, trying to push the feeling down. The Judge looked at Hyper and me questioningly. "Who are these lovely young ladies?" he asked.

"Watch it, pal," I growled in my mind, deciding to keep my lip zipped and my trap shut.

"Oh," Smart Ass blushed. "Excuse my ignormance, boss."

"'Ignorance,' idiot," I corrected him in my head. "You and yer malapropisms."

"This is our newest member, Hyper," Smart Ass introduced, formally. "She passed the test 'bout a month ago." Hyper bounded forward and shook the Judge's hand excitedly.

"I'm really glad to meet you, mister! I mean, boss! I mean, Judge! I mean, Your Honor! I mean…"

"Shut up, Hypes," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. "You're makin' a fool of yerself." The Judge turned to me and gave me a smile that sent my blood scurrying back into the middle of my body for warmth and shelter.

"And who, might I ask, is this pretty little girl?" Judge Doom questioned, grinning slyly.

"That's…"

"The name's Twinkle Toes," I snarled, cutting Smart Ass off. "I'm an informant." Judge Doom reached his hand forward and I grabbed it, shaking it harshly. I didn't want him thinking I was a sissy.

"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Twinkle Toes," the Judge purred.

Smart Ass elbowed me in the ribs, silently telling me to shut up. I knew I was probably embarrassing him by speaking out of term.

"I bet he told that Judge character that he captured me and had me under control," I thought to myself, elbowing Smart Ass back. "Well, he's got another thing comin'. I don't want Hyper involved with this creeper."

"So whaddid ya need ta see us for, boss?" Smart Ass smiled meekly. Judge Doom gestured to a table and swooped towards it.

"Sit," he commanded.

"Thanks, Doom, ol' buddy, ol' pal," I grinned, plopping myself in a chair. "This's awful sweet of ya. Hey, Smarty, gonna join us?"

Smart Ass looked like his head was about to explode. He stormed over to me and nodded to Wheezy. Psycho stood up, but Greasy pulled him back down. Wheezy walked over to me, yanked me from my chair, and dragged me outside.

"Sorry 'bout her, Judge," Smart Ass apologized from inside. "I don't know what's gotten into 'er lately."

"After all he does for ya," Wheezy fumed as he pulled me into the parking lot, "all ya do is go around and embarrass 'im? Ya got no manners, ya crazy dame." Smoke was flowing out of him like water out of a faucet.

"Get yer paws offa me!" I exclaimed, smacking Wheezy's arms, shoulders, and (occasionally) face. "I'll call the cops!" My words registered with my brain and I inwardly rolled my eyes. How could I possibly forget that Wheezy was a cop?

"Ya should've thought of that before ya shot yer mouth off in there," he snarled. "Ya don't take any of this seriously, do ya?"

"How can anyone take bein' in a gang seriously?" I sassed.

"Ya just don't get it!" Wheezy yelled. "It's not just 'bein' in a gang!' It's a test of yer mental strength and yer reflexes! It's a constant evaluation of yer listenin' skills and yer loyalty!" He was suddenly attacked by a hacking fit. He coughed and wheezed, hitting his chest with his fist. I was silent for a second.

"You're really dedicated to yer job, ain't ya?" I asked quietly. Wheezy calmed his coughing before nodding.

"Yeah," he said. "It ain't fair when anyone thinks that we don't do nothin' but sit around and cause trouble. We got an organization. We have smarts and brains."

"I guess you're right," I sighed. I looked at Wheezy as he lit another two cigarettes and puffed on his grand total of six. "But, ya ain't really helpin' yer smarts and brains by smokin' like a forest fire."

"I know," he grimaced. "I started when I was ten and I just…couldn't stop." He took a drag off his cigarettes and pulled his hat over his smoke-reddened eyes, which were now closed. I wondered if he was really hurting inside or if he was just aggravated with me, as usual.

"Have ya tried?" I asked. Wheezy nodded. He sucked on his six cigarettes again and puffed a large, perfectly circular smoke ring. He looked so professional. "Really?" I said again, putting my hand on his skinny shoulder. He breathed out another smoke ring and looked at his feet.

"No," he wheezed. "Not really."

"Well," I smirked, "first, ya gotta cut down." I plucked five cigarettes out of his mouth.

Immediately, Wheezy's eyes got bloodshot. He started twitching and he reached for the pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket. When they were in his paw, I snatched them away and shoved them in my own jacket pocket.

"Give me back my cigs," Wheezy pleaded. "C'mon, ya crazy dame."

"Ya get these back when ya can control yer intake," I snorted. "And if ya buy more, I'll find out."

"Twinkle Toes!" Wheezy exclaimed, reaching for my jacket pocket. "Give 'em back!"

"You're still smokin' one," I complained. "Get yer paw outta my pocket, ya pervert!"

Everything next happened in seemingly slow motion.

Wheezy twirled me around to face him.

I heard Psycho yelling something.

Suddenly, Wheezy flew away from me.

There was a strange ball of white straightjacket attached to him.

"STOP BITING ME, PSYCHO!" Wheezy yelled before falling into fits of harsh coughing.

"Hee hee hee hee!" Psycho giggled. "Baaaaad Wheezy! Hee hee!