The bell rings as another school day ends. Sylvester Jr. runs out of the classroom to meet with Egghead and Poppy at the entrance. Out on the sidewalk, he spots his friends waiting alongside a purple-furred cat.

"Furrball, what are you doing here?" Furrball meows and makes a gesture imitating driving a vehicle. "Well, I guess it's better than taking the bus like usual."

Charles catches up with them, then looks up at the adult cat. "Hm? Is this a relative of yours, Junior?"

Junior laughs. "Oh, not at all! Furrball's a friend of my dad's." To the purple feline, he adds, "This is Charlie, our new classmate. Can he come with us, too?" Furrball raises a brow skeptically, then lets out a stern meow. "Don't worry, he's cool. And what's one more kid gonna do?"

The two cats have a brief altercation until the elder eventually yields. "He says you can hang out with us," Junior translates. "We gotta study first, but once we're done, we can play the new game Egghead bought. How's that sound?"

Charles' golden eyes sparkle with curious joy. "Très bien!"


Over in the Pussycat abode, Pepé is setting up the study materials on the dining room table with Sylvester's assistance. "So have you told Junior about his mother?"

"Not yet. I was planning to do it the other day, but work got in the way." Sylvester's ears catch the distant sound of the doorbell. "I'll get that."

As he leaves to reach the front door, Pepé puts down the remaining study notes, left alone with his thoughts. He never told Sylv the truth about his past, nor the information he uncovered from his sample research. How would he react to hearing it? "Don't freak out, but I used to be a scientist who worked for ACME on their Illudium project, but then I went a bit mad with power and unintentionally killed my wife." He shakes his head. I need to break it to him slowly. More importantly, I need to–

"Hello, Mr. Le Pew!" a girlish voice cuts in cheerfully. Pepé looks up. Poppy Pig enters the dining room, plopping her bag on the table. "The boys will be here in a bit. Egghead's setting up the game consoles, and Sylvie's introducing his new friend to his dad."

The skunk blinks. "New friend?"

"Yeah. He's a striped skunk, just like you. He's a bit shy, but I'm sure you two will get along in no time."

Junior enters the room, and following behind him is a small striped buck with shaggy bangs and golden eyes. "Hey, Pepé, this is my new friend, Charlie. He sits next to me in some of my classes."

The young buck says softly, "Bonjour, Monsieur Le Pew…"

The two skunks lock eyes, the tension between them thickening. Does he recognize me? It's impossible–he was just a newborn when I last saw him! Unless… Could she have told him about me? Pepé breaks eye contact, fumbling with the notes in front of him. "Enchanté, Charlie. Unfortunately, I didn't prepare any extra notes, so you will have to borrow from one of the others. Is that fine?"

"Uh, yes, that's fine. Sylvie, would you mind sharing your notes with me, s'il te plaît?"

With all the kids' notebooks and textbooks on the table, the study session begins.

The study group originally started with Pepé assisting Junior with his science and math homework, but once Poppy and Egghead started noticing improvement in his marks, they wanted to learn from the buck's methods themselves. Pepé never intended to become an unintentional tutor, but seeing his knowledge spread among the youth warmed his heart, motivating him to continue. Today, however, that warmth is missing, replaced with an uneasy chill.

After an hour of bookwork, the kids are dismissed. Pepé approaches Sylvester and whispers, "Mind if I have a word with you?" He glances at the group huddled around the TV. In that split second, Charles reciprocates with a curious glimpse. "Preferably where the kids aren't listening."

The older cat, sensing something very wrong, complies, continuing their conversation in his office. "Pepé, you've been acting strange since that Charles kid came here. I get he looks a bit creepy, but he's not hurting anybody." Sternly, he adds, "You know something about him, don't you?"

Realizing the jig is up, he sighs. "That young boy, Charles, I think he might be my biological son."

Taken aback, Sylv says, "Explains the strong resemblance. But if he's here, then does that mean your wife is here–"

"My wife is dead!" Pepé bursts out. He turns away, too ashamed to look his best friend in the eye. "Before we met thirteen years ago, I was a terrible man. In the name of science, I ruined my marriage and any chance at a happy life. My son was the product of my misdeeds, and instead of holding onto him, I ran away like a coward!"

A tense silence loomed over them. Sylvester, who in most cases could come up with something to say to Pepé, is completely lost for words. The situation described is difficult to process–despite having witnessed and experienced it himself, he can never fully understand why a parent would abandon their child. Still, Pepé is his friend, and he wants to help him out however he can. Scratching the back of his head, he says, "Pepé, I–"

KNOCK KNOCK!

They turn their attention towards the door. From the other side of it, a soft voice speaks. "Mr. Le Pew, tu vas bien? I heard you yelling and got worried."

Pepé, immediately recognizing the voice, replies, "Je vais bien, Charles. Just discussing business with Sylvester, as adults do."

"Um, okay. So, um, can you tell me where the bathroom is?"

"Oui, I'll show you." He opens the door and escorts Charles upstairs. They pass a door with a taped paper sign that reads "Junior's Room" in child-like handwriting, then stop at the next door in the hall. "Bathroom is right here."

"Merci, Monsieur."

"Please, call me Pepé."

The young skunk steps into the bathroom. Instead of closing the door, however, he turns to comment, "By the way, you look a lot like Auntie Anne. Are you two related?"

Pepé blinks, confused. "Uh, no. I don't know any doe with that name. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

Charles lowers his gaze in disappointment. "Oh. Sorry to bother you. I haven't met any other skunks since we moved here, so when I saw you, I thought… Nevermind."

"I see. Well, if you ever want to see me, you're more than welcome to drop by again next week."

He beams, large eyes glittering like gold. "J'adore! Thanks, Professeur Pepé!" He embraces the older skunk, leaving him in a nonplussed state.

Despite his initial reaction to the unexpected gesture, Pepé can't help but smile. Professeur Pepé… It has a nice ring to it. He ruffles the child's hair and leaves him to his business, thinking that maybe it's not too late to make amends.


Deep in the Underground, amidst the crowd of black market degenerates, a striped skunk doe in a surgeon's gown and mask lurks, a messenger bag slung over her shoulder. She approaches the snake doctor, who smiles upon seeing her. "Ah, you're back! What do you have for me this time?"

She opens the bag and takes out a small cooler box. Inside the box, a large, reddish brown organ rests upon a mound of ice. "Cow liver. I'm sure you'll find it very useful."

"Yes, indeed. And it looks quite healthy, too. For a skunk, you have an amazing eye, Dr. Toilette."

"I was born into this work, Dr. Viper. I would be nothing without clients like you. How's three-thousand sound?"

"Twenty-eight-hundred, and I'll throw in a few sedatives to cover the rest." His lips curl up into a smile. "Do we have a deal?"

A devious look in her pink eyes, she answers, "Deal."

She surrenders the organ bag to the snake, and he slips under the counter. As he retrieves the goods for her, he says, "Thank you for your business. Before you return to Acme City, I have one word of advice: be a bit more careful with the messes you leave behind. The cops are hot on your trail, and I've had strangers interrogating me about my wares. Acme Underground's existence is already on thin ice as our secrets trickle to the surface. One wrong step, and this whole city is going down with us."

"Duly noted. Now…" She slips on a pair of rubber gloves. "…who's my next patient?"

Dr. Viper slithers to the back of the room, where a black curtain hangs. He pulls it back, revealing an orange tabby strapped to a rusty surgery table. The tabby, upon seeing the skunk, starts panicking. "He's all yours, Docteur."


AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hello again! Another chapter up, just in time for the anniversary of this fic's original debut!

I might have mentioned this in previous ANs or maybe just spoke about it privately among friends, but the increased gaps between the more recent uploads is a result of me just not having the clearest idea of how to approach the story in its current stage. The La Moufette/"Repo Man" arc was a plot idea that was planned very early on in the earliest stages of this fic's development, but due to how the story evolved, it's becoming increasingly difficult to try to fit it in without messing everything up. Each time I start a new chapter, I basically had to write notes on what scenes I want to add, as well as sort everything into a rough timeline and brainstorm the everloving hell out of them until I come up with a semi-cohesive chapter outline.

The tl;dr version is that plotting's become a mess because I couldn't be arsed to adapt an old idea into something that properly fits into the current story. I'm considering cutting this arc to a shorter, more consumable length so I can get back to the main plot without boring both myself and my audience. In the meantime, I thank you for your patience thus far and I'll be grateful if you stick around a bit longer.

As for the chapter itself, I apologize for the rather short length and general emptiness of it, especially after the meatiness of the previous chapters. I considered adding another scene or two, but I couldn't come up with anything that didn't come across as filler. Honestly, I worry that I'm not utilizing the kid characters as well as I would have hoped, so I'll probably just focus on the adults for a bit longer while I try to figure out how. Heck, this chapter was so troublesome to work on, I couldn't even come up with a good title! I think this is a case of "Welp, I did my best, so I'll just toss it out there and worry about fixing it later".

I've considered diverting my attention towards making short stories, but for some reason, I couldn't really get myself to break away. I think it's out of fear of repeating history (the last couple of times I did a "main story + short story collection" fic series, both ended up incomplete). At the same time, though, if I keep focusing solely on the current story without any outlets for miscellaneous plots/scenarios that I can't fit into it, there's a risk of burnout that could result in the fic being abandoned in general. I'm in a bit of a bind, and while the answer seems obvious, my declining energy levels seem to suggest otherwise.

Anyways, I guess I'll see you around.