ACE!

Rated PG for mild violence and angst.

I do not own anything in this story that already belongs to Cosgrove Hall Films. The ACE (Award for Canine Excellence) is a true award, and I cannot take credit for this either. Everything else here belongs to me, Sabertooth Kitty. ^-^

Author's Notes: It took me a while to work out the details for this story. Let's just say that some of the inspiration comes from all the dog magazines I've read, and the rest comes from an old film that has been a favorite of Mafia-lovers for generations.

On a final note, I would like to dedicate this story to my deceased dog, Judah- a 9 year old Rottweiler with severe kidney problems (July 4, 1994 – October 11, 2003). He had to be put down, to avoid further suffering. Someday, my friend, we shall meet again...

A lonely old warehouse stood in disrepair on the rainy shores of Maine. It had been ages since a factory worker had set foot in that broken-down building, though it was not without it's purposes.

A lone figure, covered by a long dark raincoat, fought his way through the mud and past the wind. He banged his hand of the door, hoping that someone would let him in. Finally, the door opened, and he rushed inside to get away from the bad weather.

At the far end of the warehouse was a large desk, with an even bigger chair turned away. On either side of the desk stood two canine bodyguards, and their own four-legged guard dogs. A dim lamp gently swayed above the desk, adding an eerie drama to the scene; the desk itself had only a few books, along with a small plastic bag and a cat statuette covered in faux fur.

The figure removed his raincoat, himself appearing to be a dog (a Dalmatian, at that), and approached the desk. "Sir," he addressed, his voice weak from many a time of turmoil, "I have delivered your letter to every finalist in the ACE awards show."

The chair squeaked slightly and turned about. A rather smug Bulldog sat in the chair, smoking a cigar out of the corner of his mouth. "Excellent work, my young friend," he congratulated, his coarse Brooklyn accent quite apparent in his voice. "Soon, you shall have my reward."

The Dalmatian shivered somewhat. "Sir… about my reward…" he stuttered, "what are my… requirements again?"

Angered, the Bulldog stood from his chair. "It's simple," he explained. "You bring me the world's most excellent canine, and I recruit him to my team! Then, and only then, will you have your reward."

"Uh-huh," the Dalmatian muttered, sniffing around the room, "and what if that doesn't happen?"

The Bulldog snapped his fingers, and immediately the two bodyguards approached the Dalmatian, restraining him tightly. "You had better make sure that it does happen," he growled, seating himself back down and staring straight into the Dalmatian's eyes, "for your sake."

With the wave of Bulldog's hand, the Dalmatian was dragged away forcefully and thrown back out into the rain. "Foolish pup," he remarked as his bodyguards joined him once more. "Nobody messes with the Dogfather…"

Meanwhile, across the ocean in London, a gentle mist was in the air as usual. The Mayfare Pillarbox was, of course, no exception; the windows were fogged over with mist, and the outdoor stairway was far too slippery. Of course, there were always a few young boys who felt like breaking the rules once in a while.

Danger Mouse sauntered into the parlor, expecting his recruit Judas to be half-asleep watching one of those pointless cartoons. This morning, however, that was not the case.

Curious, the agent did a quick search of the flat. No sign of Judas anywhere; in fact, Penfold also seemed to be gone. Not in the parlor, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathroom… it was quite odd indeed.

DM returned to the parlor, more perplexed than before. "Now that's strange," he murmured. "Where could those two be?"

Suddenly, the door burst open. A tall, lanky German Shepherd held the door open as a young hamster slid inside, screaming from the shock. The dog slipped slightly from the wet floor and eventually pushed himself inside.

Amused with the entrance, Danger Mouse rolled his eyes. "There you are," he commented. "Where were you?"

The German Shepherd, apparently Judas, shook off the excess water from his fur. "Nowhere really," he replied, taking off his jacket. "Penfold and I were up a little early this morning, so we went down to the park and played a little catch."

"Ooh, yes," Penfold agreed, hanging up his coat next to Judas'. "It was great fun, DM… that is, until the tennis ball rolled off into the pond."

Judas smiled. "Ah, it's just one tennis ball," he dismissed. "We can always get more."

The agent sighed heavily, taking the newspaper from the side table. "Not that I mind you two heading out early for your little games," he reassured, reading through the headlines, "but next time, perhaps you could tell me where you're going?"

The recruit smiled sheepishly. "Well," he began, "we would have… but you were asleep."

Penfold nodded. "We didn't want to wake you," he explained, "but we couldn't wait either."

With a heavy sigh, Danger Mouse shook his head. "The least you could have done was leave a note," he informed, then noticing the rest of the mail on the table. "Oh, Judas- something came for you in the mail today.

Excited, Judas grabbed the stack of envelopes and skimmed through the letters. "Is it another check from my parents?" he blurted out, tearing open the envelope with his name on it. "I've been looking for a little extra cash…" His eyes widened upon seeing who had sent him the letter. "Oh my gosh…"

DM looked up from the newspaper and glanced at Judas. "What is it?" he inquired.

A broad smile crossed Judas' face as he showed the letter to his chief. "Look at this!" he exclaimed. "I've been nominated for the ACE! The ACE!! Can you believe it??"

Puzzled, Penfold leaned over to the agent. "DM," he addressed, "what's that ace he's talking about? Some kind of card game?"

Danger Mouse chuckled. "Of course not, Penfold," he replied. "It's the Award for Canine Excellence, or the ACE. It's a rare award given to only a few dogs every year, out of hundreds who have made great contributions to society-"

"And I've been nominated!" Judas screamed ecstatically. "This has to be the greatest thing that's ever happened to me! I've never won anything before- anything- and now look!"

Unfortunately, DM could tell that his recruit was forgetting the bigger picture. "Judas, you haven't won yet," he pointed out, almost bluntly. "You've only been nominated. There's a possibility that you could win, but there are hundreds of other dogs that are just as excited as you are, some of them more qualified than you are."

Judas was quickly becoming irritated. "You don't think I can win?" he spat. "You don't think I have what it takes to get an ACE??"

The agent groaned in frustration. "Perhaps you do," he responded. "If you were at least nominated, then you must have done something to show why you deserve the award in the first place."

The recruit smiled with pride. "I'm glad you think so," he remarked.

Then, Danger Mouse gently took Judas' head and pulled it towards his own face. "Do not get your hopes up," he advised. "To be nominated for an award is an honor in itself, Judas, but to actually win an award is an entirely different and far more difficult situation."

After a brief pause, Judas pulled away. "So," he murmured, "do you think I have a chance or what?"

DM nodded. "You know, I do," he answered. "You may have some fierce competition, but I do not doubt that you could win."

The American pooch smiled. "Thanks," he said, looking back to the nomination letter. "I wonder what I did to earn the award."

Shaking his head, the agent buried himself in the newspaper again. You know, I've been wondering about the exact same thing, he thought. Usually I'm the nominee for an award… perhaps some of my skills have rubbed off on him…

Almost a week later- the night before the ACE award show- a small rundown shack in downtown Manhattan dimly lit the surrounding dark streets and alleyways. Unlike most folks at this hour, one wide-eyed hound remained awake- our young Dalmatian friend in-league with the Dogfather.

The Dalmatian sat on the floor of the shack, typing busily at his computer. "Here's the ACE website," he muttered. "Now if only I can hack my way into the judges' online voting booth."

After several attempts to guess the password, the pooch managed to get into the private section of the ACE website reserved for the judges and other animal-award delegates. "Alright, now to the voting page," he murmured, clicking to the next page. "The votes are in… now to find out which one is the winner of the Grand ACE."

Reading down the list, the Dalmatian saw several winners- except, they were marked with numbers. Honors 1, 2, and 3 probably weren't the Grand ACE winners- such a coveted award was saved for last. The final entry, Honor #10, was most likely the Grand ACE winner.

Anxious, the open-eyed hound clicked the link to Honor #10. Upon seeing who it was, a wide smirk crossed his face. "Well, well, well," he remarked. "It's my old friend… looks like we'll have to do a little catching up. The Dogfather will be most pleased…"

The next evening, back at the Mayfare pillar-box in London, Judas stared into the mirror, attempting to "clean himself up" for the award show. He had just gotten out of the shower a few hours ago, spending the rest of his time drying and styling his hair. He rented the tuxedo a few days ago, and Penfold offered to iron it earlier that morning.

All the while, Danger Mouse kept to himself most of the day. He did what he could to help Judas along with preparing for the award show, but for the most part he just stayed out of the pooch's way.

Finally, Judas stepped outside. He looked quite handsome, all cleaned up and in a nice tux, but there was still one more thing he needed. "Hey, DM," he addressed, sauntering into the parlor, "I need a little help here."

Looking up from another one of his books, the agent cocked his eyebrows in confusion. "Judas, why is your collar undone?" he inquired.

"That's what I need help with," Judas explained, sitting down and showing his chief a tie and a necktie. "Which one would look better?"

A small grin crossed DM's face. "Necktie," he answered, burying himself in his book again.

The American dog nodded, fixing his necktie along with his collar. "Thanks," he commented. "So, what's going on?"

Puzzled, Danger Mouse looked up from his book. "Beg pardon?" he queried.

Judas sighed. "The ACE award show," he reminded. "You know tonight's the night. Are you coming or what?"

DM shook his head in reply. "Judas, I'm only driving you there and back," he informed. "I can't stay- missions come up too often."

The pooch understood the situation. "Okay then," he said, rubbing his hands together. "So, should we get Penfold and be on our way?"

It was then that the agent remembered something. "Not yet," he responded, taking a small device out of his pocket. "I had the professor send this over- it's a tracking device, in case of an emergency. It has a button on the side to activate it, and a transmitting recorder so I can pick up visual and verbal clues as to your exact location."

Smiling, Judas took the device from DM. "Cool," he mumbled.

Danger Mouse took back the tiny receiver and carefully pinned it to Judas' cufflink. "That should do it," he murmured, glancing back at Judas. "Remember, emergencies only. Is that clear?"

A wide grin crossed Judas' face. "Crystal," he replied.

At that moment, Penfold stumbled into the room. "Ready to go yet, Judas?" he asked, looking over at the pooch. "My, don't you look dashing!"

Amused with the comment, Judas chuckled. "You know, I've never heard that before," he responded. "The only time I've ever heard 'dashing' applied to me was back at college."

Himself surprised, DM turned to Judas again. "Really?" he remarked. "On the track team, were you?"

"No, but I could have been," Judas answered. "At least that's what my friends told me every time I got back from running after old girlfriends."

The agent smirked. "Of course," he mumbled, standing from the couch briefly. "Alright then, let's get moving. If we leave now, we can still make it to the awards show on time…"

About an hour or so later, the Mark III soared high above the tall skyscrapers of New York City. The inner city seemed unusually bright that evening, especially in the vicinity of Madison Square Garden.

Having finally eased its way into traffic, the Mark III pulled up to the curbside of the park. Several creatures, mostly dogs, from around the globe had come that night to congratulate the fortunate winners, and hopefully win an award themselves.

Judas stepped out of the Mark III, taking in the fantastic atmosphere. "Wow," he murmured. "This is so awesome… I can't believe I'm here."

Neither can I, Danger Mouse thought, turning his attention back to Judas. "Well, it seems this is where you get off. I'll be back in a few hours."

Smiling, Judas turned around. "Thanks for the ride, DM," he remarked, showing him the cufflink with the transmitter, "and for this little gadget."

The agent glared at Judas for a moment. "Remember- only in emergencies," he scolded. "Do you understand that?"

Alarmed, Judas veered away from the car. "Okay, okay!" he yelped. "No messing around! I get it already!"

DM smirked, turning the ignition key. "I'm glad you see things my way," he responded, giving his recruit one last encouraging glance. "Have a good time."

As the Mark III soared off into the night sky, Judas turned about and straightened his tie. "Well, I better get inside," he said coolly. "Don't wanna keep the judges waiting…"

Once inside, Judas gazed in awe at the splendor of the ballroom. The mere sight was absolutely gorgeous. Fancy gold and silver décor added a touch of elegance to the occasion, as well as the magnificent statues of past ACE honorees- Balto, Lassie, Rin Tin-Tin, and other such famous heroes of the canine world.

The American pooch smiled. "Awesome," he remarked, looking around. "Maybe I should mingle with some of these folks- after all, we all got nominated for the same award."

As Judas started looking around, he accidentally bumped into a pair of greyhounds- a very wealthy pair of greyhounds. The male dressed formally for the occasion, as did his mate in her brilliant evening gown, and they were both of purebred blood.

The male greyhound huffed. "Well, now that's un-called for," he muttered in his strong New England accent, wiping a small stain from his jacket. "And I just had this blazer professionally dry-cleaned."

"Now, now, dear," the female greyhound intervened, her own New England accent quite apparent. "I'm sure the boy didn't mean to make you spill your expensive wine on your expensive blazer."

Embarrassed, Judas chuckled sheepishly. "Total accident," he explained, holding out his hand. "Sorry about that. My name's Judas."

Though quite uncomfortable, the male greyhound shook Judas' hand with a handkerchief. "Pleasure to meet you," he murmured, letting go of the pooch's hand and bringing his mate closer. "Amadeus and Susanna Wolfhowl, but I'm sure you know us better as… the famous Wolfhowls."

Judas nodded uneasily. "Yeah, that name rings a bell, I guess," he mumbled, hoping to better conversation. "So, what were you nominated for?"

The Wolfhowls laughed heartily. "My boy," Amadeus began, "we are the Wolfhowls! We've donated so much money to various charities around the globe that we can't possibly go unnoticed!"

The recruit felt more secure in this knowledge. "So, what kinds of charities do you donate to?" he asked. "End world hunger? Bring about world peace? Save the whales?"

Susanna chuckled lightly. "Anything," she answered. "So long as the ACE award officials approve of it, what do we care?"

To say the least, Judas was puzzled. "Beg pardon?"

Amadeus took his wife's hand. "The Wolfhowls have always won the ACE awards," he stated. "This year we've decided to go for the Charity ACE."

Sadly, this only left Judas with more questions. "So, you're already ACE winners," he reasoned. "Why do you need another?"

Again, this caused Amadeus to laugh. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, my boy," he cried. "We haven't won every ACE award! We need at least one of each to complete out collection of canine awards for our trophy case."

As the rich greyhound couple walked away, still laughing at the pooch's feeble-mindedness, Judas sauntered away. "Now that's weird," he commented. "I never imagined rich people were actually like that."

It was then that Judas looked over to a lone corner of the room. A young pup sat there sulking, probably waiting for his parents to get their award and go home. "Poor kid," he said, approaching the pup. "I'd better go and cheer him up."

Once Judas had approached the pup, he sat down beside him. "Hey there, kid," he greeted. "So, how are you doing tonight?"

At first, the young pup gave Judas an odd glance. "Okay," he replied suspiciously.

Stretching his arms, Judas laid back in his chair. "So, who are you stuck here with?" he queried. "Parents? Grandparents? Aunt? Uncle?"

Agitated, the pup stared at Judas. "My parents dropped me off," he snapped. "I'm here for my award."

Although slightly surprised, Judas smiled warmly. "Hey, that's cool," he remarked. "What'd you do to earn the ACE?"

"Nothing," the pup replied, his cocky attitude more apparent. "My name is Gabriel, and I'm a child prodigy."

Confused, Judas had to think for a moment. "Sorry, could you say that again?" he inquired. "Big words kinda confuse me."

Gabe rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Okay," he began. "I understood algebra at age 2 and calculus at age 4. I wrote my first award-winning novel at age 5 and my own sonata at age 7. Now I'm a 9-year-old high school graduate! Do you get it now, genius?"

Needless to say, Judas was still lost on the whole subject. "Ah… no," he admitted.

Angrily, Gabe stood and slapped Judas across the face. He cursed at him in Japanese (knowing that the recruit wouldn't understand anyway) and stormed off.

After a moment of recollection, Judas rubbed his sore face. "What was his problem?" he muttered, then catching glimpse of a beautiful female Labrador Retriever seating at the bar. "Hello… suddenly, this got very interesting."

Judas approached the canine beauty and extended his hand. "Hi," he greeted coolly. "My name's Judas. I'm a nominee for the ACE."

The Lab smiled. "So am I," she explained. "My name is Betty. I've been doing a lot of research in the realm of science, to help make things better for our species."

Amazed, Judas grinned. "Really?" he queried. "That's interesting. What kind of research do you do?"

"Beauty enhancement products," Betty answered, glancing at her watch. "Oh no- it's going to wear off soon!"

Before Judas could ask for an explanation, the tall gorgeous Labrador Retriever transformed into a short plain Cocker Spaniel. Her beautiful evening gown had been replaced with ghastly plaid outfit, and her big bold glasses did little to help her image. "I apologize," she murmured, in a completely different voice. "We can still be friends, right?"

The pooch nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure," he lied, quickly sprinting away from the bar. He had seen some pretty amazing things, but that was just plain kooky!

Betty gazed at Judas as he left. "Call me!" she cried out pathetically.

Once Judas had found a safe place to hide (just in case), he sat down in one of the empty seats. "Man, this stinks," he snapped. "How did any of these guys get nominated for the ACE?"

A voice behind him chuckled lightly. "It's the judges," he said. "These folks will do anything to get their paws on an ACE."

Turning around, Judas spotted a familiar face. "Kenny?" he inquired. "Kenny Gordon?"

A figure stepped out of the shadows- a tall, skinny Dalmatian wearing casual attire (way too casual for award show dress code). "Sure is," he remarked, tipping his baseball cap. "I heard you were nominated, so I thought I'd drop by and congratulate you."

Amused, Judas smirked. "Thanks, pal," he commented, looking over Kenny's attire. "How'd you get in? Isn't this a tuxedo kind of occasion?"

Kenny frowned slightly. "Actually, I have a confession," he admitted. "There's something I want you to come and take a look at. It's back in my car, and I can't exactly show it to you here."

Though a tad suspicious, Judas still had some trust in his old fried. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll take a look at it…"

Quietly, Judas and Kenny slipped out the back door and into the parking lot. They soon came to the old, beat-up hunk of junk that was Kenny's car- it was in good need of a tune-up, but sadly he lacked the funds he needed for any good service.

Perplexed, Judas turned to Kenny. "So, what do you wanna show me?" he queried.

The Dalmatian took out his keys and unlocked the trunk of his car. "It's way back there," he informed, pointing to the back of his trunk. "I'd get it for you, but I just wanna leave it in the trunk- I wouldn't even touch it."

With a heavy sigh, Judas leaned into the trunk. "I don't see anything, dude," he said. "Are you sure it's back here?"

"Yeah, dude!" Kenny snapped. "Just trust me- its back there!"

Suddenly, an odd thought came to the pooch's mind. "Hey, Kenny," he asked, "what exactly am I looking for anyway?"

With a smug smile, Kenny shoved Judas into the trunk. "The same thing I am," he replied, slamming the door shut on him. "Trouble!"

To say the least, Judas was terrified. Kenny had tricked him! Why would he do something like this to his only friend??

It was then that Judas realized something. Quickly, he pulled his cufflink close to his body and pressed the button on the tiny emergency homing device. "Come on, DM…"

Meanwhile, back at the Mayfare pillar-box, Danger Mouse and Penfold had been watching the ACE awards show on television. They kept their eyes open for Judas, hoping to spot him somewhere in the crowd.

As the awards show coverage went to a commercial break, Penfold turned to DM. "This is so exciting, isn't it, Chief?" he inquired. "No wonder Judas was so excited to be nominated!"

The agent nodded. "It's a big event," he explained, "especially if you happen to be a dog."

Suddenly, a shrill beeping alerted Danger Mouse; however, rather than coming from the video screen, it was coming from his watch. He glanced at his specialized wristwatch and discovered that the homing device placed on Judas' cufflink had been activated. It could only have meant one thing.

With a heavy sigh, DM grabbed Penfold and hopped onto the couch. They soon slid down the chute and into the Mark III, soaring into the sky at top speed.

Puzzled, Penfold turned to the agent. "DM," he addressed, "what's happening? Where are we going?"

Danger Mouse looked at his assistant out of the corner of his eye. "I wish I knew," he admitted. "What I do know is this- Judas has activated the homing device, and sensors indicate that he is no longer at the awards show. He's lost somewhere in New York City."

"Ooh, crikey!" Penfold exclaimed. "Why would he want to do that?"

DM frowned. "Unfortunately, Judas probably hasn't left on his own," he continued. "More likely, he's been taken hostage, and we have to find him…"

After quite some time of riding in the trunk of a junk car, Judas was getting quite irritable. "Just wait until I get my hands on that demented Dalmatian," he muttered. "He's gonna wish he'd never been born!"

At last, the car stopped for a moment and the engine died down. A wide grin crossed Judas' face- now was his chance to get out of this mess and head back to the awards show!

The trunk door opened, and before Judas could make his move he was smothered by a large blanket. He struggled to remove the blanket as three sets of arms (one of them probably Kenny's) picked him up and carried him to parts unknown.

Finally, Judas managed to wriggle his head out from between the blankets. At first, all he could really see was darkness- nothing too unusual. A flicker of light caught his eye for a moment, but quickly his face was shoved back inside the blanket.

Suddenly, the blanket came unfurled and Judas tumbled to the ground. Quickly, he was taken up and thrown into a chair, tied down securely so that he wouldn't make any sudden moves. Once they were done, Kenny and his "confidants" stepped aside to reveal a lone desk, brightened only by a dim light hanging overhead.

To say the least, Judas was frustrated. "Excuse me!" he barked. "Can someone please tell me what the heck is going on??"

All was quiet for a moment. Then, a deep voice from behind the desk alerted the henchmen and their hostage. "Patience, my young friend," he stated with a strong Brooklyn accent, turning the chair slightly and glaring at Kenny. "Did you bring him?"

Kenny nodded. "That we did, sir," he replied. "I brought you the winner of the Grand ACE- this year's number one canine."

Needless to say, Judas was wide-eyed in amazement. "What?" he questioned. "But- but they haven't even announced the winners yet!"

"Of course not," Kenny remarked smugly. "That's why I went online to the ACE website and hacked my way into the judges' voting area."

For a moment, Judas was speechless. "I… I can't believe this," he murmured. "I don't know what to say."

The mysterious figure laughed. "Then don't say a word," he suggested, turning the chair around to reveal himself. "Allow me to introduce myself- I am the Dogfather…"

Some time later, the Mark III pulled up outside a warehouse in downtown New York City. The tracking signal had led them there; hopefully, Judas would be inside.

Danger Mouse parked the Mark III in a nearby alley. "Alright, Penfold," he addressed, hopping out of the car. "We're here."

Penfold glanced up at the huge, menacing warehouse. "Ooh, crikey- it looks dangerous," he mumbled, turning to the agent. "Chief, maybe I should stay here and look after the car."

DM rolled his eyes. "Oh, no you won't," he commented, taking Penfold by the hand and walking towards the warehouse. "We're going inside, together."

The agent and his assistant quietly tiptoed inside, hoping that no one would notice them. It was quite dark, apart from the dim light at the other end of the warehouse. They peeked out from behind a corner and saw a tall bulldog, dressed in a formal Italian business suit, striding alongside his cherry-wood desk. Two canine henchmen- a Doberman and a Rottweiler- stood on each side of the desk, along with their primitive four-legged forms. A Dalmatian leaned on a chair positioned before the desk, and tied to that chair was a familiar friend of theirs…

"Crumbs!" Penfold cried. "It's Judas!"

Quickly, Danger Mouse covered the young hamster's mouth. "Penfold, shush!" he whispered sharply, considering the situation at hand. "We have to get over there; it looks like Judas is in serious trouble."

Fearful, Penfold turned to DM. "How do we do that, chief?" he questioned.

The White Wonder thought for a moment. Then, his eyes fell upon an old metal ladder leading up to a walkway in the rafters. "I have an idea," he murmured, once more taking Penfold by the hand. "Come on…"

The Dogfather smiled, leaning on his desk. "So," he said, staring at Judas expectantly, "do we have a deal?"

Judas swallowed hard. "Well, it was nice of you to offer," he complimented, chuckling nervously, "but I don't think I'm up for it. See, I'm more of a good guy's kind of sidekick- that's why I won the ACE."

Unconvinced, the Dogfather tried another sneaky tactic. "Let me put it this way," he remarked. "You would be the hero of every drug-addicted animal in the United States, and some third-world countries too. There's money to be made in this business, pal, and you don't need any kind of fancy awards or education to get it either."

The American pooch stood his ground. "Look, I'm really sorry," he lied, "but I still have some old allegiances to uphold."

Of course, the Dogfather was curious as to who these allegiances were. "Go on," he pressed.

Though very afraid, Judas knew what he had to do. "I'm a patriotic kind of pup, sir," he explained. "I love my country, and I don't want to do anything to it that's going to harm it in the long run. I'm very close with my family, and I don't want to disappoint them either. Plus, I'm already working with an agency, so-"

This got the attention of the canine crime-lord. "What??" he barked. "What are you talking about?!"

A wide grin crossed Judas' face. "Danger Mouse," he informed. "I am the recruit of the world's greatest secret agent, sir."

For a moment, the Dogfather was quiet. He looked around suspiciously, as did his bodyguards, and suddenly laughed. "Danger Mouse- ha!" he guffawed. "I don't see him anywhere!"

Discouraged, Judas glanced around the warehouse. "Oh, he's coming," he assured, his confidence fading. "Soon, I hope."

After a while, the Dogfather had regained his composure. "Now that you've made a fool of yourself," he spat, "will you comply or not?"

Despite being utterly humiliated, Judas still had his pride. "No," he answered.

Needless to say, this wasn't exactly what the Dogfather wanted to hear. "I'm afraid you don't understand," he stated, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards approached their prisoner. "Either you become a part of my team, or you'll be looking at a pair of cement shoes and a trip to the bottom of the Hudson River." He grinned evilly and added, "So, what do you say now, puppy?"

For a while, Judas was too afraid to speak. On one hand, he didn't want to betray everything and everyone he held so dear; on the other hand, though, he wasn't looking forward to drowning at the bottom of a river either. Where are you, Danger Mouse?? He thought in desperation.

Suddenly, a white figure descended from the rafters- Danger Mouse! Quickly, he knocked down one of the bodyguards, knocking him out cold. As the other came from behind him, the agent turned about and karate-kicked him to the floor, sending him across the room and into one of the thick iron support beams. As for the huge four-legged guard-dogs, he hopped onto one of them and rode it like a horse. They bounded outside, trying to shake him away, and finally DM hopped off and slammed the doors closed, locking the dogs outside.

The canine crime-lord growled. "Danger Mouse," he addressed.

DM ran back over to Judas, untying the ropes. "Judas," he gasped, "are you alright?"

Judas nodded nervously. "Yeah, just barely," he replied, pointing to the Dogfather. "This guy was about to-"

"Give you a pair of cement shoes and send you down the Hudson River?" the agent repeated. "I heard the whole thing, and so did-"

Without warning, another familiar figure dropped from above- this one, a small brown hamster. He landed on top of the Dogfather's desk; apart from a few bruises, he seemed to be fine.

Danger Mouse rolled his eyes. "Penfold," he scolded, "I thought I told you to stay up there until Judas was safe."

Surprised, Penfold looked up at the Dogfather. Quickly, he jumped up from the desk and ran behind the agent for protection.

Sneering, DM approached the Dogfather. "You fiend," he spat. "Who are you, and what do you want with Judas?"

The Dogfather chuckled lightly. "So, Danger Mouse," he addressed, "we finally meet. You have quite a force rebelling against you, especially that of my good friend Silas… although, you may know him better as Baron Greenback."

To say the least, Judas was quite shocked. "You know Greenback??" he gasped. "No wonder you're a sick, twisted fiend!"

"Silence!" the canine crime-lord barked. "Nobody messes with the Dogfather!"

This notion surprised the agent. "Wait a minute," he murmured. "You're… the Dogfather?"

Nodding slowly, the rather large bulldog grinned, showing his blackened teeth. "Thought I was just a myth, did you?" he inquired. "They only say that because the cops have yet to catch me. I'm as notorious as the Zodiac killer- so few of my victims have seen me and lived to tell the tale."

Still, Danger Mouse was a tad perplexed about something. "Just out of curiosity," he said, "but what do you want with Judas?"

Again the Dogfather chuckled. "It wasn't him that I wanted, exactly," he explained. "I just wanted the winner of the Grand ACE award, and I knew this boy was the winner because of my associate…" he gestured to the Dalmatian and continued, "who went out of his way to hack into the judges' voting booths on the ACE website."

Saddened, Judas glanced at his old friend. "Kenny," he addressed, "how could you?"

Kenny's face was emotionless. He turned away from the German Shepherd, glaring at the Bulldog. "Well," he growled, "where's my reward?"

Angry, the Dogfather glanced back at Kenny with a sneer. "You get nothing," he spat. "He won't be a part of my team."

Needless to say, Kenny was quite upset. "What do you mean??" he barked. "Can't you threaten him, or call more of your bodyguards?!"

"The mouse knocked 'em all out, you twit!" the Dogfather snapped. "He even took care of my guard dogs! Without my henchmen, I'm just a grumpy old dog with a cane!"

Of course, Kenny was not about to give up so easily. Quickly, he snatched the cane from the canine crime-lord and approached Judas. "Don't make me use this thing!" he threatened.

Though frightened, Judas attempted to calm down his anxious friend. "Kenny, stop!" he cried. "Look at yourself! You're trying to knock me out with a walking cane!"

Himself unnerved, DM grabbed the cane and held fast. "Steady, Kenny," he murmured. "Put the cane down… I'm sure you don't want to hurt anyone…"

The Dalmatian's face twitched wildly. Clearly, something was wrong with him- something very wrong.

After a moment of thought, Judas got the nerve to speak up again. "Kenny," he whispered, "what happened? What's wrong with you?"

Suddenly, Kenny stopped forcing the cane. Instead, he let go, crashed to his knees… and bawled like a baby.

Having seen the whole thing, Penfold was now very confused. "Um, chief," he queried, "what's going on?"

The agent sighed heavily. "Apparently, Kenny here was involved in more than just the Dogfather's services," he explained. "While a loyal henchman, he also expected to be paid for his efforts, though not in the usual fare of currency…"

Shocked, Judas bent down and put his hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Dude, it's okay," he assured. "It doesn't have to be this way. There are people out there that can help you. Maybe you can go with DM, and he can find someone who will help you out."

All of a sudden, Kenny quieted himself. He sniffled and looked up, his eyes wet from tears. "Really?" he inquired. "You- you mean it?"

Danger Mouse smiled. "Of course," he agreed. "Any friend of Judas' is a friend of mine."

Finally, Kenny stood. "Thanks," he murmured, "but… this has to be something I've gotta do on my own. I know a shelter not too far from here- I'm sure they can help me out."

It was then that DM noticed something. "Well, this is perfect," he muttered, glancing at Judas. "The Dogfather escaped while we were working out your friend's emotional problem."

Judas shrugged. "I guess it was worth it," he remarked. "We'll get him next time, and by then we won't have to worry about Kenny anymore."

Kenny nodded, a weak smile across his face. "Well, I guess I better be going," he said, taking one last look at the agent and his confidants. "Thanks, guys- this really means a lot to me." With that, he turned about and walked away.

After a moment of thought, Danger Mouse turned to Judas. "Well, let's get you back to the awards show," he commented, leading the way. "The Mark III is parked nearby."

The American pooch smiled. "Thanks," he responded.

As the team headed outside, DM glanced at Judas once more. "You know, Judas," he addressed, "I was quite proud of you back there."

Confused, Judas stared at his chief. "Come again?" he queried.

The agent smirked, turning off the alarm to the car. "You were courageous enough to deny the Dogfather, even under dire consequences," he explained as the three of them hopped inside. "You were also caring enough to help your friend out of a serious problem. I can see why you were nominated for an ACE."

A wide grin crossed Judas' face. "Well, I'm glad you agree," he stated. "It's too bad you won't be around to actually see me win."

"Oh, I wouldn't be to sure," Danger Mouse hinted, gesturing to Penfold to get something out of the glove compartment…

About an hour or so later, Judas was seated at a private table. However, now he was joined by two of his closest companions- Danger Mouse and Penfold. "Thanks, guys," he remarked. "It's nice to have someone to talk to here."

Before either DM or Penfold could say anything, the hostess of the awards- Lass Cherie (the current animal actress playing the role of the original Lassie)- stood before the audience. "That was our winner for the Charity ACE- Amadeus and Susanna Wolfhowl," she reminded. "Now, for the winner of the Grand ACE."

Judas swallowed hard. "Oh, man," he muttered. "I can hardly wait!"

Lass held up the envelope. "The winner of this year's Grand ACE award goes to…" she said, opening the envelope.

Quickly, Judas stood up. "Thank you, thank you," he addressed the audience, "you're more than kind."

Unfortunately, his was not the name on the winning ballot. "Gabriel Sandalhoff," Lass announced, "child prodigy of the canine world!"

Shocked, Judas fell back into his seat. "What??" he blurted out. "But- but how?! I thought I was supposed to win!"

DM himself was puzzled. "Now that's odd," he mumbled, watching the young pup take his award from the lovely hostess. "I wonder if Judas' friend knew what he was doing. Perhaps there was something else…"

After Gabe had gone up and taken his award, Lass turned to the audience once more. "Finally, folks, we have our Amateur ACE," she stated, opening the envelope. "The lucky winner is… Judas Franklin- recruit of Danger Mouse, the world's greatest secret agent!"

Now Judas was in even more shock. Not only did he not win the Grand ACE, but he had also won the lowest award on the scale. Humiliated, he sauntered up to the stage and took his small bronze Rin-Tin-Tin statuette. He didn't even smile when Lass gave him a congratulatory hug!

The agent cringed. "Well," he murmured, "we certainly won't be hearing the end of this for a while…"

Later that evening, the Dogfather sat in his den in a secluded neighborhood. He watched the ACE awards show in anticipation, and quickly his anxiety turned into anger. "It's bad enough that a little kid won the award," he growled, "but knowing that I was almost stuck with an amateur… how that sickens me!"

One of his bodyguards leaned in. "You want us to take care of him, boss?" he asked.

Nodding, the canine crime-lord snapped his fingers. "Boys, go and give our old friend a pair of cement shoes," he ordered, sending his two henchmen out the door with his dogs. "Nobody, and I mean nobody, messes with the Dogfather…"

The next day, Judas laid back on the couch, fiddling with his Amateur ACE trophy. "I can't believe it," he whined. "I'm just an amateur… I'm a bigger loser than the losers!"

It was then that Danger Mouse entered the room, a cup of tea in his hand. "Are you still sulking?" he questioned. "Get over it, Judas- at least you won something!"

"It would have been better if I lost," Judas remarked. "Now the whole world knows I'm an amateur- I'm such a good amateur that I have an award to prove it!"

DM smirked. "That you are," he stated, "and I, personally, wouldn't have it any other way."

All of a sudden, the video-screen flickered on. "Danger Mouse," said a familiar voice. "Are you there, Danger Mouse?"

Quickly, the agent approached the video-screen. "That I am, sir," he answered. "What seems to be the problem, Colonel K?"

Before the colonel could say anything about a mission, he noticed Judas from out of the corner of his eye. "Ah, Judas," he addressed, "I saw you on the telly last night. Won an award, did you?"

With a heavy sigh, Judas stumbled over to the screen. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered. "It just means I'm an amateur."

Suddenly, Colonel K was struck with a thought. "Oh, that reminds me," he murmured. "Someone left a message for you on my answering machine- said something about cement shoes, the Hudson River, and a chap by the name 'Kenny'."

His sorrow turned into shock, Judas dropped his award as well as his jaw. "Oh my gosh!" he screamed. "They killed Kenny!"

Danger Mouse was also shocked to hear this news. "Those blighters!" he snapped. "Any leads from that, sir?"

"None whatsoever," the colonel informed. "However, we do have a lead on Greenback- it seems as if he's been spotted at the Taj Mahal in India. One of our agents seems to think that his latest scheme has something to do with tigers."

The agent nodded. "Right, sir," he agreed, "we'll get right on it."

Colonel K smiled. "Good show, DM!" he praised, then turning to Judas. "Congratulations on your reward, Judas, and I'm sorry to hear about your friend Kenny. Over and in."

Once the video-screen had gone blank, Judas turned to the White Wonder. "I can't believe it," he commented. "They got Kenny…"

DM sighed. "It's always hard to lose a good friend," he assured, patting Judas on the shoulder. "Just keep in mind all that you've accomplished throughout your life."

Puzzled, Judas gave the agent a sidelong look. "How's that going to help me?" he questioned.

A weak smile crossed Danger Mouse's face. "It helps to know that you did what you could for your friend while he was still here," he explained. "It's important to know that it wasn't your fault."

Of course, Judas had been dwelling on other thoughts as well. "What about the only award I ever won?" he inquired. "It's just proves that I'm a amateur, and nothing else."

"Hardly," DM remarked. "Do you know what the term 'ACE' even stands for?"

The American pooch cocked his eyebrows. "The Award for Canine Excellence," he informed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Smiling, the agent nodded. "It has everything to do with you," he answered. "True, you are an amateur, but you are an excellent amateur- you try your hardest, do your best, and help whenever you can. No one is born perfect- we were all amateurs at one point, including me!"

Judas smirked. "No, you?" he responded sarcastically. "Not the great Danger Mouse- I don't believe it!"

Danger Mouse shook his head. "The point is," he continued, "you have proven yourself to be more than an ordinary recruit. You are showing quite a lot of progress. Who knows- maybe one day, you can be a hero for your own country… or the world, if you try hard enough."

Comforted, Judas smiled. "Thanks, dude," he said, picking up his award from the floor. "I'm gonna set this up where I can see it."

"You do that," DM permitted, calling into the hallway. "Penfold- come on! We have a mission!"

Quickly, Penfold sauntered into the parlor. He glanced at the couch, noticing that Judas was no longer there. "Chief," he addressed, "where's Judas?"

The agent chuckled lightly. "Let's just say that Judas has a new way of seeing things," he commented.

Of course, the concept was a tad too complicated for Penfold to grasp. "Oh, did you get him a pair of X-ray glasses?" he queried. "I'm sure that's cheered him up."

Again, Danger Mouse shook his head. "Penfold, shush…"

THE END!

PS- in case you haven't noticed, I took a fairly famous phrase from the show South Park and twisted it slightly, to get out the curse words. Just wanted to say that the original idea behind that phrase does not belong to me, either (you know, get those lawsuits out of the way). ~_^ Anyway, please leave a review- let me know what you think!