"Allllllllll abooaaaarrrrddddddd! - Ha-ha-ha!" Steel claws out, Puck faced Officer Sargent, blasting out her favorite song from somewhere in her chest— good ol' Ozzy and his crazy train, he understood.
"You are under arrest." The cop said in a flat, mechanical voice, "Lie down with your hands behind your back."
"Puck, stop it, you're making it worse!" Maggie sobbed from where she was being loaded into a squad car, "Just STOP IT, you're making it worse for everybody!"
"Fuck off, bitch!" Snarling, the mechanical cat girl bounded off the dented side of Mista's truck, taking half of the cop's locs with her on the way past. After months of insults, of Maggie betraying her, of Josie… of everyone betraying her… this whole pissant town that made nice-nice to your face… while stabbing you in the back…
Stepping over Uncle Mike's inert torso, Sargent holstered her sidearm, severed locs pattering to the pavement, breaking Puck's trajectory, forcing her to scramble up the big woman's back, clawed hands and feet digging into the Kevlar of the cop's bullet-proof vest.
Grabbing behind her, Officer Sargent snagged Puck by the baggy shirt, pinning the cat girl face down against the side of Mista's truck, reaching for her handcuffs with her other.
Hissing, with hidden fangs bared, Puck tore free. Officer Sargent caught her by the wrist spinning her so that she wound up once more face against the rust-rough side of the battered vehicle.
Puck snarled, internal gyros straining as she slithered free, whipping Officer Sargent across the mandibles with her steel-jointed tail, the air filled with a cacophony of Ozzy and "Toreador Song".
The cop rocked back as Puck flipped past, glittering claws a blur – TAKE THIS, Salem, for turning my sister against me!
She tore the cop's black shirt sleeve in a spatter of green ichor, and TAKE THIS, for… Puck stumbled over Uncle Mike's head. Officer Sargent grabbed Puck mid-fall, pinning her once more against the side of Mista's truck.
Ozzy abruptly went silent, "Toreador" gurgling and grinding to a halt.
Eyes blank, Puck's arms fell off, mouth blaring, "This unit belongs to Fazcorp and has been damaged. To avoid prosecution, please return it to the nearest authorized service provider."
Ignoring the pre-recorded message, Officer Sargent kicked Puck's mechanical arms out of reach, her own flat voice stating, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."
"This unit belongs to Fazcorp and has been dama—" Something deep inside Puck's torso shorted, silencing her in a puff of acrid smoke. The last thing Puck saw as everything went dark was a tall, thin man with a raven on his shoulder standing beside Cleo de Nile's car.
A raven with seven eyes.
"Mommy." Puck wailed in her internal silence as safety shutdown finished executing, sending her into a bottomless pool of electronic blue.
Hipshot, the dark-haired man, tall, spare, graceful, watched the bit of law enforcement street theatre finish unfolding before him, raven on the shoulder of his immaculate black suit.
It would all be over soon, except for the ritual breast beating, garment rending, and blame casting until the next disaster of the week distracted the microphone waving class.
"Ahhh, my sweet sinners, your lack of originality never ceases to amuse..." the tall man murmured with a smirk, stroking his pointed chin with one narrow long-fingered hand.
Soon, if he felt like it, he would retrieve his master's property.
But not now.
The tall man's eyes glittered red. The master would just have to wait.