"And you think that's bad, you should have seen Peter when he ate refrigerated Taco Bell Grilled Cheese Burritos, it was a nightmare," Joe softly quipped to his fellow memory channelers at The Clam, their favorite spot in town. The gang sat in their trademark booth. The crippled cop sat in the leftmost seat, with Peter, Quagmire, Cleveland, Sonic, and Bubsy trailing in a semicircle. Peter chugged down some Pawtucket Patriot Ale, slammed the bottle on the table, and shuttered. He gasps beneath his breath, "I told you not to bring that up in front of everyone else…"

"Sorry," Joe confesses, guiding his attention towards Sonic, "you see, he wasn't the only one on duty last night."

Sonic asks, "wait, you're a cop?"

"Yes."

Cleveland mutters, "Don't worry little hedgehog fellow, he's one of the good ones."

Quagmire butts in, "yeah, I remember Loretta saying that to me, giggity giggity!" The man thrusts his pelvis forward- Sonic focuses on it for a second. The hedgehog looks back at Bubsy with sparks in his eyes and confesses, "woah, am I gay?"

Bubsy smiles and looks at Sonic, finally revealing his chaos emerald-embroidened wedding wing, "more than gay…"

The hedgehog gasps, "woah, are we, married?"

"Yes, we even… tried having a child…"

"That explains why I thought you were heavier…" Sonic said. He feels his brain melting under thousands of neurons stitching themselves back together.

Peter grabs a beer, cracks it open, and shoves it down Sonic's face. "There there, this will help…" Peter whispers in a soothing voice. Sonic wipes drips of beer off his face and burps. Peter asks, "there, feeling better?"

Sonic replies, "yes." He burps, slams the empty bottle on the table, and screams, "where's my goddamned chili dog!"

Cleveland mutters, "there's no chili dogs here, trust me, I know your pain."

Sonic zips out of the clam and comes back with a chili dog. He chows on that bitch, mustard splashing over his face, slurring, "I'm gay as fuck for these chili dogs, dudes."

"Why didn't you grab me one?" Cleveland asks.

Peter looks at Sonic and says, "well it looks like your memory's coming back to ya, we are unlocking some level 3 memories rather frequently…"

The front doors of the Clam barge open, and a giant chicken reveals himself. Peter squints menacingly at the chicken, and the chicken reciprocates his opponent's glance with an equally intense glare. Peter immediately stands up, grabs a bottle of beer, and runs right at the chicken, and smashes the bottle over his head. The beast delivers a punch to Peter's gut, but due to how fat he is, he absorbs the blow. Peter throws a one-two punch to the chicken then kicks him in the nuts, stunning him. Peter grabs his shoulders, trapping the chicken in his line of sight, and hurls him over the bar counter, smashing all the beer barrels. Alcohol begins flooding the clam. Sonic screams, "god damnit, does it have to flood everywhere! Wait… I remember now, yeah, this is Tails' fault! That two timing-" Sonic gulps. Bubsy freezes…

"Quick, let's get out of here!" Cleveland screams.

"Don't we want to help Peter?" Sonic asks.

"No, this is a personal battle. We have no right to interrupt a duel without permission. Now move!"

Everyone vacates the Clam. The chicken rises up from the floor, eyes locked on Peter's face. Rapidly, Peter smashes bottle after bottle on the chicken, stunning him further. Blood oozes out of several scars on his face. However, the chicken grabs Peter's neck and slams it on the countertop which once separated the two. He does it three more times. While recovering from the blow, Peter pulls off an epic handstand over the counter and flips over, stomping the animal. He then grabs a broken alcohol spray and jams it into his mouth, slowly drowning the chicken's innards with alcohol. While choking on the intense velocity of the liquid spray, the chicken pulls out a lighter and sets all the flooded alcohol on fire. Peter's feet burn, stunning him temporarily. The fire spreads up the wooden support and compromises the integrity of the building whole. The roof falls over, smashing the two, yet Peter punches through, carving a hole for himself to escape. The chicken's hand peeps through, shaken, stunned due to his own hubris. Peter runs up, pulls on the hand, and unearths the feathered beast. He rapidly punches the chicken 4 times in the face, then grabs the remains of a stool and smashes it on his face with such a force that it reduces the stool to nothing but wood shavings. Both Peter and the Chicken choke on the airborne particles, but the Chicken puts on a face mask. Peter wipes sweat off his face and checks his pockets. He screams, "damnit, must have left my face mask back home." Peter tears off the mask and the chicken, gasping onto fresh air, lies down. Peter bends down to him, coughing intensely. He whispers, "you know, I survived worse than this. I once downed buckets of gasoline, my internals can handle this. You? I'm not too sure. But if we both die, remember this…" Peter spontaneously kicks the chicken in the nuts one last time before both of them pass out.

During the carnage, Sonic, carrying Bubsy in his arms, dashes away from Quahog, abandoning the Memory Channelers. The duo barges into a piss-stained hotel lobby. Nobody's at the front desk, so Sonic rings the bells aggressively. No service. The hedgehog looks at the bobcat and whispers, "should we just go in?"

Bubsy, with determination in his eyes, confidently states, "yes. The ends justify the means." The duo dashes upstairs and finds a door with a lock on it.

Sonic asks, "what do we do now?"

Bubsy smiles and replies with a simple, "don't worry about it." He then pulls out a Counterfeit Keycard and swipes it, unlocking the door, revealing a basic piss-stained room. The two immediately crash on the bed. Sonic rests his robotic arm over Bubsy- the cold touch stuns him. Bubsy whispers, "not tonight, my love… not tonight…" Bubsy turns the lights off and slumbers, all the while Sonic holds back tears. He remembers it all, the hand being torn off, his unarousing metallic arm, the cheating, the hate wank that drowned the city, etc cetera. He may be sharing beds and wedding rings, but not hands. Another night, another round of blue spheres.