The three OSMU agents gasped as a sleek, midnight-black rabbit the size of an elephant hopped out of the forest.

Opal stared. "Is that... That's... What's... That... That..."

The enormous beast blinked, wrinkled its nose, and emitted a horrifying screech that sounded like a bus braking. Its ears bristled and it hopped away.

Omar shook his head. "That was one big bunny rabbit."

Oswald clutched his book. He looked at the others and indicated the forest. "Orla..."

Opal looked at him. "You're right, Oswald. Orla's out there somewhere. And she might be in trouble. We've got to find her!"

Omar considered. "We can cover more ground if we split up. I'll go this way!"

"I'll head this way!" Opal agreed. "Oswald, you go in that direction."

Oswald nodded.

"Keep your badge-phones handy. We'll meet back at the van if we don't find anything. Everyone stay alert, keep track of the time, and don't get lost! Remember, we've only got..." She checked her watch. "Four and a half hours!"

They all headed out in separate directions.

#

Within minutes, Omar was completely lost.

"ORLA?" He shouted into the shadowy underbrush. "ORLA? YOU OUT THERE?"

There was a rustle and the shadows shifted. Omar ducked as dozens of crows flew out of the darkness.

"Whoa... Hey!"

The crows eventually settled in the branches of the trees around him as the shadows deepened. He walked a couple more steps and was surprised to see a tumble-down shack with an old woman standing outside its door. She was dressed in a long black cloak and leaned on a gnarled cane, her pale white hair hanging down around her shoulders.

"Hey! I didn't see this place before." He approached the old woman. "Hi, ma'am! Sorry to bother you, but have you seen my friend Orla?"

The old woman looked at him with surprisingly sharp eyes. "Your friend? Have I seen your friend?"

"Yeah! Her name's Orla. She's about my size, she's dressed in armor..."

"Hmm..." The old woman smiled tightly. "No, I don't think so. But perhaps I can help you find her..."

Omar smiled at her. "Nah, that's okay, ma'am. I don't wanna bother you..."

"No bother at all, young man." She beckoned him over. "Come into my home so we might discuss this further."

"Well... Okay..." He approached the old woman's house. "I don't wanna be rude. But I gotta hurry, we only got a couple hours or so..."

"Oh, you needn't worry..." the old woman purred.

At the threshold, he hesitated. "Waitasec. This place isn't made of candy, is it?"

The old woman was confused. "Candy? Of course not. It's my home."

"Good!" Omar smiled. "Cause I wouldn't wanna go walking into a trap..."

"Don't worry..." The old woman's dark eyes glistened. "It's not... candy..."

She ushered him inside.

#

Opal, meanwhile, found herself in a wet, overgrown marsh.

"ORLA? ARE YOU OUT HERE?" She felt mud seeping into her shoes yet again. "And if you are, why?"

Swatting at a few more mosquitoes, she sat down on a large rock and started searching through her gadgets in hope of finding something, anything that might help ease her misery.

"There's gotta be a bug-sprayinator in here somewhere..."

She wasn't having much luck until the two beavers emerged from a small hole in the ground nearby. One beaver wore overalls and a straw hat; the other had a polka-dot dress. They looked around frantically, rose up on their hind legs, then fled into the woods.

"WE'RE FREE! FREEEEEEE!"

A somewhat larger muskrat emerged a moment later, its brown fur bristling as it clutched its clipboard.

"HEY! COME BACK HERE! YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED YOUR SHIFT! I'M GONNA DOCK YOU BOTH IF YOU DON'T..."

The beavers vanished into the distance. The other animal muttered something Opal couldn't make out but which she suspected was probably obscene.

"Ah, go ahead. Jingle your jangle. See if I care..." Then he noticed Opal. "Ah. Hello, there. You look like a bright young human. Would you like a position at an up-and-coming new company?"

Opal just stared for several seconds. Eventually, she remembered how to talk. "Um... No, thank you. I'm actually looking for a friend of mine..."

"Great! It's an entry-level position, full-time, unpaid but you'll be getting valuable experience so if you do well you can advance to one of our unpaid executive positions. Then in a few years you might advance to an unpaid vice-presidency or even a full-fledged unpaid partnership if you play your cards right..."

"Well, I... Wait, what? You have a company? And don't you pay your workers?"

"Of course I don't pay them," the muskrat sniffled. "It's MY company. And honestly, it's for the best. Poor people just aren't good with money. They tend to waste it on silly things like food and shelter. If they had any sense, they'd invest it all in really cool stuff. Like the stuff I sell. Y'wanna see it?"

"I... Uh, not really..."

"Great!" He pulled a jar of gunk out of his burrow. "This is our top-line homemade exfoliant and skin cleanser..."

Opal groaned.

#

Oswald, meanwhile, found himself in the scorched remnants of what had once been a mighty forest. Swallowing, he trudged through the ash-covered ground, burnt and blackened dead trees on either side as far as the eye could see. He hugged his book to his chest and forced himself to keep going.

"ORLA? ORLA? ORLA WEH YOU? YUH ROUND..."

Sighing in exasperation, he went back to shouting, "ORLA?"

He heard noises in the distance. Gathering up his courage, he ran toward them.

"ORLA? OR..."

He froze in shock, the color draining from his face.

He'd found Orla. She was sprawled on the soot-covered ground, her helmet badly dented, one leg twisted in a way suggesting it was at the very least badly sprained. Looking closely, Oswald could see she was breathing. Oswald sighed.

Looming over her was an enormous red and green dragon with glowing gold eyes. It roared and pawed the ground with its glistening, razor-sharp claws, curls of fire billowing from its ferocious mouth. It advanced on Orla...

#