Author's Notes: Hello all! This chapter gets into the meat of the story's plot. I must admit writing Fred's character has been an interesting experience for me. He's unsettling, but could read as either sympathetic or unhinged depending on context. Such an odd balance makes for a fun challenge. Thank you all for reading and/or reviewing :)

Chapter 2

Detective Fred

Welcome to my private room

A lovely little padded tomb

My name is Fred, as you surely know

And I sit here listening to my own hair grow

Longer, longer, the time passes on

My smile weakens from jubilant to wan

I wish I could shave heads, or at least cut and taper

But until then I must content myself with my newspaper

Freaky Fred, as the crazy barber was known, sat alone in a padded cell looking out the barred off window. It was his turn to read the newspaper, and Fred was surprised that Horace, another freaky barber, had not cut the thing to ribbons before passing it to Fred. Well, the funny pages were cut up, but most of the Nowhere Gazette was still intact.

The sweltering heat was magnified by the tightly bound straight jacket that Fred was forced to wear. The place was like an oven, given that the cheapskates who ran this facility weren't too keen on turning the AC on unless absolutely necessary. Fred only had one thought as he sat there soaking in his own sweat.

"Ah, summer! You've come at last! Now my gloomy mood has passed," Fred crooned with a wide smile.

Fred always enjoyed summer. It made him feel nostalgic for simpler days. For many years he would spend every summer with his Aunt Muriel and Uncle Eustace. He fondly reminisced about helping Muriel cook for the family, cutting up wigs and doll's hair while his Aunt Muriel watched and commended his technique, and helping his dear uncle with the outside chores. Oh, such glorious days!

Of course, it had been a few years since he had last seen the farm. He had walked away from his landlords at the home for freaky barbers one day and paid his family a courteous visit. At first he had wanted nothing more than to reminisce about old times and drink tea with his family, but then he saw...Courage.

His Aunt Muriel had gotten a dog since last he had seen her, and Courage had the most rapturous rare beautiful hair. Fred was enthralled from the moment he laid eyes on Courage, a flurry of fur that was the most unique shade of dusty pink. Fred tried to control himself, for a moment at least, but he realized he had to be...naughty.

Fred had his chance thanks to his Uncle Eustace accidentally locking Fred and Courage in the bathroom. He would have to remember to thank the old man someday for that grand mistake. Fred spent the rest of his visit shaving Courage from fuzzy toe to fluffy head, leaving only a pitiful pile of fur on his tail. His landlords took him back afterward, which was just as well since his work had been done.

That had been some time ago. Fred didn't think too often of Courage, but when he did it always brought a wider smile to his face. His Aunt Muriel had such great taste in pets.

Fred used his bare foot to flip the pages of the newspaper as he sat in his cell. His straight jacket didn't allow his hands to turn the pages, after all. Since he lived near Nowhere he sometimes got their news, but it was never anything interesting. Mostly UFO sightings and giant vegetable growing competitions. Once there was a tower of sadness throwing cannonballs at everyone, but Fred hardly noticed that. The smile didn't even leave his face when he was shot by one of those depression salvos.

As he perused the week's events it was mostly more of the same. Someone claimed their chicken grew three heads and was stolen, there was a story about a new community center being built, and yet another story about some name forger getting arrested but then let go because he faked the police chief's signature.

The paper was all out of order thanks to the other freaky barbers who read it before Fred. He read the trades first, and then human interest stories, then recipes. It was a mess. Fred finally found the front page after flipping several pages, and the first thing he noticed was a picture of Eustace and Muriel. Curious, Fred had to read the headline to see why the old couple was suddenly famous.

KILLER CAT CLOBBERS COUPLE

Well, that didn't sound good. Fred had to read on.

Police are on the lookout for a serial killer who goes by the name Katz. On June 13th Katz allegedly entered the farmhouse of an elderly couple named Eustace and Muriel Bagge. The murder weapon was believed to be a small transportable cannon. The cannon was fired several times, destroying property in the home as well as being fired on the farmers directly. Eustace Bagge, age 82, was pronounced dead on the scene. Muriel Bagge, age 81, is reported to be alive and in stable condition. Katz is still on the loose. Muriel Bagge's doctor was unavailable for comment.

For the first time in many years, Fred's smile gave way to a slight frown. It lasted for only a moment before the creepy smile was forced back into place. Fred wasn't the type to cry over his losses, so he didn't let his grief show. Inside however, his heart felt like it had been overgrown and smothered with untamed brambles. His Uncle Eustace was such a good man, at least in Fred's warped mind, and he knew he would greatly miss the old farmer. He also knew his Aunt Muriel was alone now.

Wait, not alone. There was one member of the family the paper never mentioned. What about Courage? Where was the dog?

Fred pondered the thought. Perhaps Courage had died of old age before the incident took place. Perhaps he was safe at a friend's house. There was only one way to find this out, as well as get to the bottom of this whole Katz situation. He would have to break out of the institution again and visit his aunt in the hospital.

Fred used a hairpin he kept in his own blonde locks to pry the door open. He looked to his left, then to his right. To his left, at the front entrance, was a security guard sitting by the door to ensure none of the freaky barbers escaped out into the world. Fred would have to outsmart this fellow to regain his freedom.

Fred casually walked by the security guard and waved hello, his smile never faltering. The guard gave a toothy grin of his own and waved back at him, giggling like a fool. Apparently outsmarting the guard wasn't going to be necessary after all.

Fred felt the wind in his hair for the first time in years, and he immediately stepped onto the sidewalk, where a bus pulled up immediately. He ascended the short stairs of the bus, smiled at the driver, took his seat, and off he went.

At Nowhere General Hospital, Fred walked into the room where his dear aunt was being treated for her injuries. They warned him that she might not be awake, but that was perfectly alright with Fred. It wouldn't be the first time he watched someone while they slept, though it might be the first time he did so without an electric shaver in his hand.

When he entered, the sight that greeted him was simply appalling. Muriel was bandaged in several places, including both arms and part of her head. There were scrapes where blood had dried, and her few remaining natural teeth were chipped. Clearly she had been badly beaten and most likely slashed several times with a knife. A large kitchen knife, if Fred correctly surmised.

"Ooh," Muriel moaned when she awoke.

"Aunt Muriel, it is I, Fred," Fred announced himself so she wouldn't be surprised.

"Ooh...Fred?" Muriel blearily asked, seeming to barely be conscious of her surroundings.

"It's alright Aunt Muriel, don't try to speak," Fred said as he took her hand in both of his, "I fear that you are far too weak."

"...Eustace?" Muriel worked up the strength to ask.

"I'm sorry," Fred replied, though he never quite lost his smile, "He didn't survive."

"Courage..." Muriel whimpered, "...Courage..."

"Do you know what happened to the sweet little dog?" Fred asked her.

"Courage..." Was all Muriel could say.

"Please, calm down," Fred insisted, "You need to focus on healing."

"Courage..." Muriel continued, "I need...my Courage."

"Then I shall fetch him for you," Fred replied obligingly, "Don't worry, I shall find Courage at once, my dear. I'll go right up to the farm and bring him back here."

"Fred...?" Muriel rasped, "Just between you and me...I never did...like that Katz fellow."

Fred couldn't help but chuckle at her words, given how sudden and surprisingly bland they were given the situation.

"He was always cheating at the...Nowhere bake off," Muriel recalled with what strength she had, "I've met him a few times, but I don't know...why he attacked us."

"The paper said he was a serial killer," Fred informed her with all the gravity of one discussing a pretty bird they saw in their window, "And he hated dogs. I must abscond quickly if there is any hope of finding poor Courage."

"Thank you, Fred dear," Muriel gasped as consciousness slipped from her, "Please...hurry..."

My thoughts they reel, my blood it simmers

My lucidity has been reduced to glimmers

Blood red fur in my mind shimmers

And beckons that I be...naughty

Just like his blood, his fur of red

Jabs my heart and fills my head

Though he best know I'm one to dread

For I shall be more than...naughty

This situation is far beyond bad

Courage was all Aunt Muriel had

A doggie child to make her heart glad

Though his fur made me feel...naughty

My electric razor is my constant friend

A tool on which I can depend

But now I fear I must rescind

And allow blunter tools to be...naughty

Ah yes, my shaving blade in my bag

Crooked with an unsightly crag

Rusted, old, and dare I brag?

A perfect fate for our friend Katz

I'll shave his neck first, that's what I'll do

He'll scream and cry and when I'm through

He'll cry no more, fur and skin gone too

And the world will call me...naughty

Fred was out of the hospital by now, walking toward the bus stop again. The bus once again came as if it had been waiting for him, and he sat down to enjoy the ride to the Bagge farm.

The last time he took this ride his temperament had been light and carefree. Now his smile was only a facade. This time there would be no Aunt Muriel offering him tea, no Eustace reading his paper, and no Courage cowering on the stairs.

He didn't know whether Courage was alive or dead, but he knew he had to find out of his aunt. She had already lost her husband, so he hoped she wouldn't have to lose her dog too. Fred remembered quite well overhearing the grown ups talking when he was young. His aunt and uncle couldn't have children, and his beloved Aunt Muriel was beside herself with grief over it. Eustace didn't care, but then again did he ever? Part of Fred was happy she didn't have her own children, because that meant she would always shower him with love and attention when he dropped by. Still, he understood how important Courage was to the family. He had to get that dog back, or else bury what was left of him.

When the bus dropped Fred off, the first thing he noticed was the dilapidated state of the farm. There was crime scene tape surrounding the area, but Fred paid little attention to it. The police weren't there at the moment, so why not simply walk inside and take a quick look around for the dog?

The inside of the farmhouse was in shambles, to no one's surprise. Pictures and heirlooms were strewn about the floor, broken glass was everywhere, and furniture was ripped up. Either someone was angry, or someone was searching for something.

Paw prints, likely in dried blood, decorated the walls and floor. Fred bent down to examine them. There were two different kinds. One was a tiny set of prints, seeming to walk in a purposeful line. The other set was slightly larger and frantically scattered all around the room in circles, as if someone had been running.

"Courage," Fred confirmed with himself.

He used his old fashioned razor blade to scoop up some of the footprint. He tasted it with the tip of his tongue. It didn't reveal anything, but that was always what they did in old detective movies.

Fred then walked upstairs when he saw that was where the paw prints led. The computer room was Courage's favorite spot according to Muriel's letters to him in the mental ward. He searched in there first.

The computer had fallen over, but was somehow still active. Fred sat the monitor back in place and then checked the search history. Most of it was likely stuff Courage had typed included 'how to get rid of space aliens', 'giant spiders! Help!', and Fred's personal favorite, 'how to regrow wish granting trees'. These were all amusing, but none were helpful. At least, not until...

'O'Flannigan family treasure location'.

Now this caught Fred's attention. What use would a dog have with treasure? The O'Flannigans were from Muriel's side of the family, and Fred had even met a few of them. Fred scanned the search results for a few minutes to see what all the fuss was about. Apparently Muriel was next in line to receive the treasure, which meant Katz likely wanted to steal it.

"How would Katz find out about such a thing though?" Fred pondered to himself.

/You're the second one to ask that, you twit,/ The computer suddenly replied.

Now, to a normal person a self-aware talking AI might be cause for concern. To Fred however it didn't seem unusual at all. He was, after all, a little bonkers.

"So? How did Katz find out?" Fred asked again.

/Katz is registered as a real estate lawyer, though I doubt his degree is legitimate,/ The computer replied in a dry bored tone, /He is likely in charge of the O'Flannigan's estate./

"I see," Fred nodded at the new information, "Tell me my good friend, have you seen Courage?"

/Yesterday,/ The computer replied, /He jumped out the window to avoid Katz, and then ran screaming into the night. Good riddance./

"Thank You," Fred replied politely.

Fred smiled wider at the computer, stood up gracefully, and then rammed his razor into the computer's hard drive! Electricity jolted Fred as he plunged and released the blade, but it was a small price to pay. The computer was rude, and Fred needed stabbing practice for when he confronted Katz.

For now though, he had a mission. He had to find Courage and bring him back to Muriel.