"I'm hungry…" whined Spitz, rubbing his rumbling stomach.
"Me too," agreed Dribble. "But, we should save our appetites for the party."
The two cabbies were walking down Crystal Street towards their small rented apartment, so they could use the phone to order the food and get properly dressed.
"Are you sure three Crave Cases will be enough?" Spitz queried.
"Oh, sure," Dribble answered. "Plus I think some of the others are bringing dishes of their own."
"I meant, enough for me!" Spitz said with a feline snicker.
"Ha, ha, ha! Don't plan on eating too many of those burgers," Dribble said with a toothy grin, "Diamond Taxi's health plan doesn't cover explosive diarrhea!" Spitz cracked up.
"Ah, home sweet room," Dribble said as they walked up the path to the apartment complex where they stayed. Dribble was in the process of getting the key from his uniform pocket when Spitz suddenly shrieked and slammed into him.
"There was a big scary hornet!" Spitz screeched, pointing wildly behind him. "He could have eaten me alive!"
"Damn it, Spitz!" Dribble roared. "You made me drop the key in the sewer!"
"Sorry…" Spitz said meekly, forgetting about the scary hornet immediately.
"Go get it!"
Spitz's eyes bulged. "What? I'm not going down there!"
"Oh, you'll go," Dribble said, cracking his knuckles.
Spitz looked left and right, then pointed behind Dribble and screeched, "Look! Mona's undressing in the middle of the road!"
"Hotcha!" Dribble exclaimed, wheeling around. Upon seeing nothing, he turned back to find Spitz skittering down the road at top speed. "Hey! Where ya goin'? Come back here!"
Spitz turned corner after corner, not really paying attention to where he was going. Even though he and Dribble could speak and think creatively, they were still animals, and still tussled like them on occasion. This was the 'game' where Spitz hid from Dribble to avoid his friend's anger.
'Hey, it's 9-Volt's house,' Spitz thought to himself. He bolted to the door and began ringing the doorbell frantically, looking behind him to make sure Dribble wasn't following him.
"Oh, little Spitz!" said 9-Volt's mother when she finally opened the door. "How are you?"
"Can't talk, gotta hide!" Spitz yelped, charging into the house and up to 9-Volt's room, where the youngster was busy playing video games.
"Voltie!" Spitz wailed as he burst in. "You gotta hide me! Dribble's after me and I have no where to go!"
9-Volt laughed. "Well, sure, you can hide here. Just hide under my D.J. table."
"Thanks, buddy!" Spitz said, and he ducked under the DJ stand. His attention was soon drawn, however, by the sound of gunfire. He peered out to see 9-Volt shooting a bright orange gun at the television, and ducks falling from the sky wherever he aimed.
"Hey, that's a pretty powerful weapon," Spitz said, after watching a bit.
"Yeah!" 9-Volt beamed. "You can't beat The Zapper!"
"Can I try?" Spitz asked, crawling out from under the DJ stand.
"Sure! Here, let me put in a better game for it." 9-Volt pulled out a huge zippered case and flipped through several NES cartridges. "Here, try Hogan's Alley!"
"Cool!" Spitz said, gripping the gun eagerly in his paws. "What do I have to do?"
"Just shoot the bad guys," 9-Volt said.
A night-time city scene appeared, and then people began appearing on the screen. When the gangs appeared, Spitz aimed and fired.
"I got him!" Spitz mewed happily.
Meanwhile, Dribble knocked on the door of 9-Volt's home. 9-Volt's mother answered the door. "Oh, hello Mr. Dribble!"
"Good afternoon," Dribble said. "Have you seen Spitz around?"
"Oh, he's upstairs playing with Leroy," was the reply.
"Heh, heh, heh, now I've got him!" Dribble laughed, and he dashed up the stairs and threw the door open.
"MEOW!" Spitz screeched in surprise. He got on his feet and aimed the Zapper at Dribble. "Don't move, pardner," he growled. "I've taken down ducks and cowboys and gangsters with this thing, and it can surely take you down too!"
9-Volt burst out laughing, and said, "Spitz, it only works in Nintendo games!"
Eyes widening, Spitz dropped the gun and put his hands in the air. "All right, you got me! I surrender!"
"Good," Dribble said, picking up the cat and hanging him over his shoulder. "Now, let's go home so you can get that key, shall we?"
Shortly later, back at the front of the apartment complex, Dribble and Spitz stood bickering over who was going to go fetch the key. Suddenly, the manhole cover shifted aside, and Dr. Crygor poked his head up from underneath. He was wearing a black wetsuit and had a snorkel attached to his visor.
"Hello!" he said, smiling. "Top of the afternoon to you gentlemen!"
"Dr. Crygor?" Spitz asked. "What were you doing down in the sewer in snorkel gear?"
"Never mind about that," the doctor said. "Did one of you drop this?" he asked, holding up a keychain.
"The keys!" Dribble said, snatching them. "Thanks, Doc!"
"V-v-v-ery n-n-ice," Crygor said. "See you at the party!" He slipped back into the sewer, and his voice echoed up, "Would you mind?"
"Oh, right," Dribble said, and he put the cover back in place. "Come on, pal, we have a party to get ready for!"
"4:10!"
Dribble blinked, then said, "The expression is 10-4, dummy."
"No, no, I mean it's 4:10 right now. We have four hours."
Dribble slapped his forehead. "Aye ga valt, you with your dumb jokes…"
"MEOW!"