The rest of the weekend passes without further incident, and it's back to business. As the week progresses, however, Ralph notices a subtle shift in Wile's behavior. He's more quiet than usual, answering the wolf's queries curtly the few times he bothers to. He would go out alone for extended periods of time, and when he is not, Ralph would find him tinkering away at some gadget or drawing up blueprints. It leaves him wondering, What is going on in that scruffy head of his?
One sunny morning, Ralph finds Wile E. sitting beside the coffee table, scrawling notes and marks on a large map of Acme City. Split into color-coded quadrants with ACME Corp at its core, the illustrated city provides a simplistic yet insightful summary of its many landmarks.
To the north is the heavily urbanized region the duo resides in, where apartments and nightclubs reign supreme. To the west is the location of Sylvester and Speedy's neighborhoods, a primarily residential area with the exception of the Acme Superstore and Acme Looniversity. To the east is the bulk of local entertainment output, including Acme Studios, the WCME Radio Tower, and the Acme World theme park. Finally, to the south is the centerpoint of all international travel and transport, home to the airport and the city docks. Looking at the city from this perspective, Ralph notices a strong resemblance to the Land of Oz that he read about as a pup.
"What's with the map? If you need to go somewhere, my phone's got GPS."
"Thanks, but it's easier if I have everything laid out like this." Wile E. takes a red marker and draws a circle around a spot in the North Quarter, titling it "BACKSLIDE". He then marks another circled area in the East Quarter, labeled as "GOODFEATHERS", with a thick, black X.
Quickly recognizing the meaning of the marks, Ralph says, "Y'know, if you're gonna go solo, you could at least tell me ahead of time. We are partners in this business."
"Alright, then. I'm going solo."
Ralph shoots him a glare. "That wasn't the response I was hoping for, but fine, be like that. But when you run into trouble you can't fight or nerd your way out of, you'll be begging for my help!"
Wile rolls up the map and meets Ralph's gaze. "Would you like to make a bet on that?"
A sinister grin forms across the red wolf's muzzle. "You know me all too well, honey. Let's keep it simple: if you can run your next mission entirely without my assistance, I'll get you anything you want… plus the Zhuge Liang Repeating Crossbow. But if you can't, you have to go on a date with me."
Wile's brow rises. "A date? Like a date-date?"
"Yeah. No skunks, no cats, no kids. Just you, me, and Acme World." As if from thin air, he flashes a flyer for the aforementioned theme park.
Skimming the flyer, he grins smugly. "A curious gamble, I must say. Alright, then. I accept."
"Yes!" With a skip to his step, Ralph leaves the apartment, shouting, "We're going to Acme World!"
Pepé, who happened to be passing by during the wolf's sudden burst of excitement, raises a brow in response. "What was all that about?"
"Just Ralph being his usual self," Wile replies. "Nothing to fret about."
"Um, okay. Say, I have to run some errands over in NQ Main. Would you mind joining me? We can drop by the bookstore café for lunch."
Recalling that the street in question was a marked location on his map, he answers, "That's perfect, actually. I was thinking of heading in that direction. Lead the way, mon ami."
The ecstasy still hasn't died down. I get a chance to go on a date with Wile E.! It's not the most conventional means of asking someone out, but when the opportunity came up, Ralph had to take it. As he dresses himself, he makes a call to spread the news. "Morning, Sam! You won't believe what just happened. I made a bet with Wile E.—which I am very confident I'll win—and we'll be going to Acme World once it all blows over."
"Morning, Ralph. You called at just the right time. I have a job for you."
"A job? But don't you have investigators for that?"
"We're tied up in other cases, and Inspector Duck…" An indistinguishable voice—most likely from the aforementioned inspector—squawks in the background on Sam's end. "He's a special case all on his own. Besides, I think your skills will prove handy."
"Oh? Do go on."
"Someone broke into ACME Corp, and security footage identified the perp as an escaped criminal named Penelope Pussycat. This isn't something I normally do, but I'm willing to bend the rules a bit if it means getting the job done. Also, I trust you."
Ralph's heart leaps to his throat. When was the last time Sam said something so sentimental? Or is he merely talking from a professional standpoint? "Thanks, buddy. Send the details over to the company email and my agent will handle the rest."
"Sure thing. I'll also buy you those tickets for your date."
The comment sends a striking jolt through his body. "Seriously? You really don't have to…"
"I'll send them over when you finish the job. I'm counting on you, Ralph."
Tears well up in his eyes, and he answers with confidence, "You can count on me, deputy!"
"Excusez-moi?" Pepé asks incredulously. "You mean to tell me that all this time, you've been chasing after some bird?"
Wile closes the book on North American birds—one of many which he collected from the bookstore—and sets it aside on the café table. "Not just any bird. A roadrunner. Or that's what my father called it. But none of these look anything like the one I'm looking for. Not to mention it runs faster than any creature I've seen, and much more than what these sources are claiming."
"I don't see where you are going with this. I mean, with that logic, you and Ralph aren't really canines—no regular wolf or coyote walks on two legs and has ears as long as a rabbit's. This roadrunner could be a Sapient like the rest of us."
"Sapient? You mean there's a word for our kind?"
"Well, it's what the human historians refer to us as, but there are other names for us as well, like Anthros and Loonatics—though don't ask me where that last one came from."
"If the roadrunner is actually a Sapient and went the same direction I did, is it possible it's hiding somewhere in this city?"
"I would think it's probable. But Acme City is massive, and creatures from all across the animal kingdom gather here. Finding it would take forever without a miracle."
"Speaking of miracles, I have to ask. That Illudium stuff they displayed in the museum exhibit, what sorts of effects could it have on us?"
"It would be hard to determine without intense experimentation. You don't mean to suggest that the roadrunner you've been chasing could have ingested Illudium somehow?"
"I mean exactly that. It's the only explanation I have. Superhuman speed, unusual plume colors, abnormal size… Sapience alone can't answer everything. Pepé, you're the smartest guy I know, I'm willing to bet you're just as curious as I am."
Pepé hesitates, but then sighs. "You're right. I was drawn to that Illudium like a moth to the flame. My reasons are different from yours, but staring at it, I felt some buried part of me begging to come alive." Slamming his fist against the table, he hisses, "I need to get that Illudium, no matter what it takes!"
This unexpected gesture shakes Wile E. into an epiphany. For a brief moment, he is reminded of someone all too familiar to him, a genius whose obsession led to his downfall. Should he agree to his friend's request, he will have to keep a close eye to prevent history from repeating itself. "We'll get that Illudium, but right now we have more important things to focus on. Just be patient."
The two pick up their books and leave the café, passing by a newspaper-reading patron. As the bell rings to signal the door's opening, the stranger lowers the newspaper slightly, and a pair of feminine, cat-like eyes observe them, a sly smirk forming across her face.
Ralph meets up with Sylvester in Miss Prissy's Coop, an American-style diner whose design takes inspiration from a hen house. Sylvester listens as Ralph describes his recent interactions with Wile E. and the bet they made. "So long story short, we're competing to see who's the top dog between us."
"That's a stupid bet if I've ever heard of one. Isn't the whole reason you started this business to do this together? And what the hell is Wile E. thinking, going behind my back? If he thinks he can take on every gang in Acme City, he's got another thing coming!"
"I doubt he's thinning the herd for no reason. Otherwise he would have brought it up with me. There's something deeper going on, and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it!"
"In the meantime, let's focus on more important matters." The cat throws a manila envelope on the table. Ralph inspects its contents: blown up prints of the security images, plus a profile for the perpetrator. "Penelope was infamous in the criminal underground as a hitman and thief. Her M.O. involves sending letters to her target—usually male—luring them in with sweet sentiments until they're in a vulnerable position. She was caught in the midst of a failed hit, but she escaped and disappeared for several years. Whatever would force her out of hiding must be extremely important to her."
Slipping the papers back into the envelope, Ralph says, "This is a bit of a stretch, but what if, hypothetically, what she's after is related to what Wile E. is looking for?"
"You're gonna have to make a strong case for that hypothesis."
"Let's say that ACME Corp has a certain something that is highly desirable to the top scumbags. If Wile E. wants it enough to be targeting every gang in the city, chances are he and the molly will cross paths eventually. Especially if she managed to find something extra-juicy in her break-in."
Sylvester thinks it over, nodding in curious agreement. "Tell you what: I'll run by my sources, see if anyone's spotted her recently, and you keep a close eye on Wile E. until you catch something. But if your theory turns out to have merit, your comrade could be in serious danger."
Later that evening, back in their apartment, Wile E. crosses out the marked location on North Quarter Main Street. "Dan Backslide wasn't any help," he mutters to himself. "Bastard led me on, only to pull the rug at the last minute. Let's see how he likes having all his bones broken."
Ralph, who happened to be eavesdropping, slides over next to Wile. "Ooh, you're more talkative than usual. Did something fun happen today?"
"It's none of your business."
"You were at the bookstore café, weren't you? I recognized the shopping bags you carried in. It's a nice spot, especially for cute bookworms."
"Ralph," he says, leering at the wolf.
"Look, we may be working separately, but that shouldn't stop us from talking as friends. In fact, let's continue this conversation in the bedroom, where no skunk ears can hear us."
As he speaks, Ralph nuzzles the coyote. Shoulders pressed and cheeks rubbing against each other, his body is warm and soft, yet the gesture is strange and discomforting. Wile's heartbeat accelerates, his throat tightens, and his muscles tense up. A primal instinct takes over…
Wile pushes Ralph away—perhaps a bit harder than he intended—and mutters, "Thanks, but I'll sleep on the couch tonight."
The wolf's ears flop and his burgundy eyes display a glimmer of sadness. "Okay… If you say so. 'Night, Wile E."
The night proves a restless one for both of them, moreso for Wile E. as he tosses and turns on the couch.
In his dreams, he is back in the desert again, but the perspective is much different, much lower than he's used to. He looks up to see an adult coyote, stern-faced and disheveled, staring at the horizon, where, cutting across the orange and yellow sands, is a road of gravel. A trap—the nature of which Wile E. cannot decipher in his delirious state—is set upon the road, and the older coyote watches fervently, muttering, "I'll get that roadrunner. I'll get 'im today. I'll catch him, catch him, catch him…"
As the elder is lost in his mad rambling, Wile's stomach rumbles loudly, and he recoils in pain. Growing weaker, he whimpers in a child's voice, "Dad, I'm hungry. Can we eat something now?" He reaches out to touch his father, but gets brushed off and ordered to stay quiet. With no strength to oppose or question him, all he can do is sit with baited breath, knowing all too well of the inevitable failure.
Wile E. blinks out of his dreamlike trance, briefly blinded by the brightly lit room. Looking down at the coffee table, he notices that he left the map out in the open. After a week of futile searches and violent interrogations, he wonders if it's worth it to continue on his path.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Ralph cheerfully greets him as he flips through a stack of letters. "Mail came in early today. Lessee… Bill, bill, spam… Ooh!" His fingers daintily grab hold of the corner of a red envelope, the front of which reads, "To my beloved Pepé". "Looks like Pepé got a fan letter. I'll just slip this under his door, like so. Anyways, I'm heading out for a bit, might drop by Prissy's while I'm at it. You want anything?"
"Gimme whatever," Wile E. mutters, distracted.
"Sure thing, honey. If you need me, you have my number…" His eyes widen. "Shit, you still don't have a phone, do ya? We seriously gotta fix that sometime. Well, I'll see you around!"
The door shuts, and the rest of the morning proceeds quietly. At least until Pepé slams the lab door open, in a panicked fervor. "Monsieur Coyote, I need your assistance!"
The skunk hops onto the couch and hands Wile the red envelope. Perplexed, he rips it open and removes its insides before tossing it aside. Among the envelope's contents is a kiss-marked letter which reads:
Dear Pepé,
I've returned to Acme City to perform at the Cool Cats Club. Attached is an invitation to a VIP-only concert I will be holding. Just. For. You. Show starts at 8 tonight. I'll see you there.
Love,
Fabrette
"So this Fabrette, what's your relationship with her?"
"It's complicated. She used to be a regular customer of mine. Over time, we fell in love with each other, and things were going well until… Well, the less said about that, the better. After our last encounter, we parted ways and had not seen each other since. I don't understand why she would contact me after all this time."
He glances at the bedroom door, pondering whether to get Ralph involved after their dispute the night before. I don't need him, he concludes. I'm strong and smart enough to cover for both of us. "You need my protection, right? Sounds easy enough. Just say the word and I'll drive a bullet through her—"
"No, no violence, please!" Pepé interjects. "I mean, restrain her if things get out of hand, but keep her alive, s'il vous plait." He is starting to question whether it was wise to make such a request from the less socially inclined of the two sellswords, but if he was to ask Ralph, things undoubtedly would take a less desirable turn. "Let me do the talking in the meantime."
As Pepé and Wile converse back in the apartment, Ralph is out on the streets, shopping and takeout bags in hand. He hears his phone buzz and picks it up. "So what's the sitch, Cat?"
"The handwriting from that letter you snapshot matches up with our target's. She's got Pepé marked this time, so keep your guard up in case she does something drastic."
"What she does with the skunk is none of my business, so long as I catch her in the end. 'Sides, Pepé's in need of a good fuck every now and then."
"Ralph, you gotta take this seriously! She's gone after him before, and if she's at it again, she'll go through with it for sure."
"Duly noted. So, what else have you picked up?"
"I got some intel from Cool Cat that she'll be performing tonight at his club. You find a way in and she'll be like a cornered mouse…"
"Or a sheep waiting to be snatched."
"That reminds me: why are you working with the Deputy to begin with? Sure, you're just as curious about ACME Corp as anyone else, but I always thought you hated the law."
"Sylvie, Sylvie, Sylvie. This has nothing to do with law and order. I'm doing this to help an old friend. Now if you'll excuse me, I have plans for tonight."
Night falls over Acme City, and a crowd of all sorts gather into the Cool Cats Club to dance, drink, and gamble to their heart's delight. As Wile and Pepé are escorted into the VIP area, the room comes to life with the sounds of swing music. The clock strikes on the destined time, and the lights grow dim. Silence looms over until the graceful stepping of heels shatter it.
Taking the stage is a tuxedo molly, clad in a fanciful red dress and matching opera gloves. She turns to the piano player, his face obscured by his low-brimmed hat, and whispers something in his ear. The pianist plays a couple of notes, cueing the bluish white spotlight to shine on her. Thus starts her jazz ballad, a song of intense love cloaked in loathing, of a relationship gone sour, of the residual passion which still burns inside. Her performance is not restricted to the stage, as she would strut around the room, flashing a wink or flick of her tail, and engaging in some mild strip tease with her gloves and stockings. As she sings her final notes, she slips into an empty seat next to Wile E., her green eyes intensely focused on the skunk across from her.
"How did you like my show?" she asks, her voice silky with a hint of a French accent.
Trying to keep his cool, Pepé responds, "C'était super, like always."
"Only 'super'? Not 'séduisant'? I poured my heart in that song, just to catch your attention. Why do you resist me?" She glances at Wile E. "Could it be that you have another lover? You never struck me as the philandering sort, but then again, skunk men aren't exactly known for commitment."
"No, I am not dating anyone, and I have no immediate intention to. Fabretta, if you just asked me here so you can try to seduce me…"
"Oh, there is more to this rendezvous, have no doubts about it." From her bosom, she slips out a USB flash drive and slaps it on the table. "This contains digital blueprints for the main ACME Corp building and its R&D branch, along with information on their security systems, passwords and all. You want that Illudium, do you not?"
Pepé is speechless, only able to watch as her paw slowly slides the flash drive in his direction. Before he can grab it, however, the moment is interrupted by Wile grabbing hold of Fabrette's arm. "What's the catch?" Wile asks.
Fabrette's eyes widen, taken aback by the coyote's sudden interference, but she retains her composure, giving an amused look in response. "What catch, Monsieur? I merely am here to make amends with my former lover. You would do the same if you still love someone, would you not?"
"We're not here to play games, kitty. You wouldn't have gone to these lengths if you didn't want something in return."
A giggle escapes from her lips. "I only want one thing: Monsieur Le Pew, the sweet, adorable, bashful love of my life." She looks at Pepé again. "Mon chérie, have you changed your mind about our consummation?"
The mask on Pepé slowly starts to slip, brows furrowed and right eye twitching. "Fabretta, you're a beautiful woman, but I must repeat myself: I do not love you in that way. I told you many times before, but you kept ignoring me. You played with my heart just like how you played with my body! Our so-called 'consummation' was never legitimate, and it never will be!"
Listening to this ex-lovers' spat, Wile E. is uncertain how to react. Should he separate the two before things get out of hand, or risk getting caught in the crossfire? His lack of experience is beginning to rear its ugly head.
A sudden, loud chord cuts through the tension, sending the room into silence. The three turn to the piano, beside which the pianist leans casually. "My, my, this is quite the predicament you found yourself in. Ain't that right, Wiles?" He raises the brim of his hat, revealing a pair of burgundy eyes on a familiar wolf-like face. "You dropped this, by the way," he adds nonchalantly as he waves the red envelope.
Visibly annoyed, Fabrette hisses, "Who do you think you are, dog?"
Ditching the hat entirely, the pianist introduces himself. "The name's Ralph Wolf. Me and the coyote there are professional hitmen… much like yourself, Penelope."
The molly lets out a gasp and speaks, dropping her French accent. "How do you know my name? Unless…"
"Let's just say I know a certain tomcat who recognizes your M.O. Typical femme fatale types, am I right? But this is different, because it's personal."
Pepé, confused, turns to Penelope. "Fabretta, is this true?"
Penelope, her temper dampened by the skunk's expression, releases a sad sigh. "Yes, it's true. I was hired to capture you and take you to my client. I was never told why, but I feared the worst, so I stole that data as a ransom of sorts. Then I overheard your earlier conversation and had a change of plans." She lets go of the flash drive, leaving it on the table. "Do whatever you want with it. You boys need it more than I do. I've done my business here, so…" She hesitates before saying, "I guess this is farewell, ma mouffette bien-aimée." Without further words, she exits the club.
Outside, Penelope treks down the block, stopping partway through to stare into a dark alleyway. Her ears twitch as they catch the soft pitter-patter of paws on pavement. "Gotta say, this is quite the ploy, even for you, brother."
Out of the shadows steps Sylvester, clad in a dark suit and fedora. "I wouldn't call it a ploy so much as a series of circumstances interwoven to fall in my favor."
"Whatever you want to call it, it worked. You have full access to ACME Corp's security, and I…" She trails off, failing to find the words.
"You didn't clear things up with Pepé, did you? That was the perfect chance, so why…?"
"I was afraid, ok?" she snaps. "The look on his face… I couldn't bear to see the pain he was showing. Nothing I could say would make it better. If I'm to clear the air between us, I'll need time to pick the right words."
"If you say so, sis. But be quick about it. The cops are hot on your tail, and it won't be long 'til your boss will, too."
With a deep sigh, she utters, "I know." A tiny smile forms on her face. "You've matured a lot over the years, Sylvie. At this rate, you could become the next Top Cat!"
"I wouldn't know about that," Sylvester mumbles bashfully. "But thanks."
"If anyone needs thanks, it's you. I know what needs to be done now. Au revoir, mon frère." The molly turns and struts off, disappearing into the night.
The next day, Wile E. and Pepé are relaxing over coffee when Ralph walks in, mail in hand. "Mail's been coming pretty early these days. Not that I'm complaining… Hm?" Hidden amongst the bills and spam are two red envelopes embellished with a familiar penmanship. He hands one of them over to Wile. "Check it out. Now Penny's writing us letters." He drops the other envelope in front of Pepé. "Don't worry, Peps, she wrote you one, too."
Pepé looks down at the envelope and holds onto it. "I'll read it later. What did she write to you about?"
Wile opens the envelope and starts reading.
To Wolf & Coyote,
I write to commend you for a job well done. Thanks to you, I was able to face the errors of my ways and reunite with an old love. It warms my heart to see Pepé in good hands. He's a sensitive soul and needs your protection now more than ever. The data I provided should prove useful in your future endeavors. Keep up the good work, boys.
Sincerely,
Penelope
PS: You two make a cute couple. Tell me when the wedding bells start ringing.
"Wedding?" Wile bursts out loud, visibly flustered.
"Clearly she's teasing," Ralph says with a bashful laugh. "Women, am I right?" He snatches the letter to read it for himself.
"I don't know what we did to impress her. We just happened to meet in the same spot at the right time. It wasn't like we stopped her or anything."
"Do we need to fuss over the details? We got what we wanted, and Penny got to see Pepé again. I say it's win-win. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to settle."
Ralph steps out into the street to make a call. "Morning, Sam!"
"Morning, Ralph."
"Listen, about Penelope…"
"Don't worry about it. We talked with Mr. Bunny about the break-in, and he convinced us to drop the case."
"Wait, what?"
"He said that nothing was taken and no harm was done, so he's willing to let her run free. I can't say it sits well with me, but what power do I have compared to the rabbit who runs this city?"
Ralph takes in his old friend's words and the lingering shame within them. "If it makes you feel any better, Wile and I had a chance to talk with her. I don't think she'll be causing trouble anytime soon."
Though the wolf cannot see it, he can sense a soft smile forming on the gruff dog's muzzle. "I'll send you the tickets when I'm off-duty."
"Thanks, Sam. I'll pay you back someday. I promise." He hangs up and starts dialing the number for ACME's delivery service.
Pepé retreats into his office, turning on the light to add a touch of brilliance to the sterile setting. Settled on the desk, he opens the envelope and starts reading the letter inside.
Dear Pepé,
I want to apologize for everything. In my fervent desire to love someone, I took advantage of you and hurt you deeply in turn. However, there is one thing I wish to clear up. Our consummation, so to say, never took place. Not to say that it never crossed my mind, but when the opportunity arose—when your mind was muddled with sedatives as we lied together in bed—I could not do it. You were too vulnerable and I was too afraid. So I settled with one deep kiss and left you to sleep. I was caught shortly after, leaving the conflict unresolved.
Even now, I regret what happened that night, and regret not being able to explain myself in our last meeting. The matter is much too personal to bring up in front of the dogs, so instead I leave my final confession to this letter. You do not need to forgive me, but regardless I wish you all the best.
Take care, my love.
"Fabrette"
PS: Thanks for taking care of my half-brother. Send him my regards.
The skunk's demeanor softens the further in he reads, touched by nostalgia and sentimentality. Ah, Fabretta, soft and meek as ever. Though the pain of the past still lingers, your repentance may be the key to healing. He opens the desk drawer and takes out the flash drive, gazing into the reflection on its obsidian shell. Your gift and my ambitions combined will help me on the road to my recovery.
ACME Corporation, the Emerald City of the Sapient capital of the world, is a grandiose, multi-level company that covers infinite fields. From research to mass production, ACME is capable of making anything and everything, and whatever hasn't been made possible will be made possible thanks to the passion and skill of their talented experts. At the heart of it all is the Executive Department, where, on the highest floor, the CEO's office resides.
Standing from his office, staring down at the ants milling in and out of the grey blocks that make up the rest of ACME, Bugs awaits the arrival of his guest. The ding of an elevator cues him to turn around. "Mr. Bunny, Ms. Pussycat is here," says his assistant, an attractive blonde rabbit, accompanied by a silent Penelope.
"Thanks, Lola," he replies. "You can wait in the lobby. We won't be long."
Lola glances at the molly skeptically, then nods and exits.
Once the assistant is out of earshot, Bugs starts the conversation. "I have to commend you for taking ACME's security data behind my back, Ms. Pussycat. You got guts."
"If you want to punish me, get it over with," Penelope hisses back.
"Punish? Why would I punish you? If anything, you did me a huge favor."
Bemused, she asks, "Favor?"
"Yeah. See, Pepé and I have a bit of history. Even if he doesn't remember it. All he knows is he wants—nay, needs to get into ACME at any cost. So you giving him that data is a blessing in disguise."
"Wait, so that means…"
"Your little act of rebellion will end with him coming to me. I believe that settles our deal."
Penelope unsheathes her claws. "You tricked me!"
"I didn't trick anyone. It just happened to be…"
"…a series of circumstances interwoven to fall in your favor."
The rabbit smirks smugly. "Exactly. Y'know, whatever happens next will be even more fun than I could ever hope for. Those wild dogs are raising too much of a fuss lately. And your brother's got a huge network, doesn't he? If I can get on their good side, we can make a good team."
She takes a deep breath to calm down, then sheathes her claws and starts backing away towards the exit. "I don't know what you have planned in that rascally brain of yours, but I know Sylvester won't stand for it. Mark my words, you will go down! You and your messed-up corporate dystopia!"
"If you say so," he responds nonchalantly. "Just be sure to grab your ticket on the way out. But don't forget: if you set foot in Acme City again, I won't hold back."
Penelope enters the elevator, and with a loud DING, their meeting comes to a close.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Sorry for the long wait, folks. This chapter was NOT easy to write for a variety of reasons. The TL;DR version is I had a handful of plot/conflict ideas I wanted to add into the chapter but was having trouble connecting them. The first half or two-thirds was especially difficult to write due to having to write everything around the Penelope case, most notably in regards to how to get Ralph and Wile under the same roof during the meeting with her. I wound up removing a bit of mystery in favor of having things connect and make sense, but I did try to add a bit more past the aforementioned scene to make up for it. There are things I like and dislike about this in regards to how I pulled it off, but at this point I'm too exhausted to go back and make any major changes, so I'm leaving it as-is until something happens to require me to edit. Have some trivia, I guess.
Sylvester and Penelope are half-siblings born under the same mother. Their more unique traits—such as Penny's fluffier tail and Sylv's red nose—are inherited from their respective fathers. While both of them were born and raised on the streets, their lives split off around the time Sylvester found a home and started his acting career, leading Penelope to grow into the lifestyle she has today. They have a mutual friend in a fellow alley cat sometimes known as "TC" and still keep in touch whenever they can.
