Summary: Tracer Bullet and Tiger Eye try to solve a murder case.

And now back to Calvin and Hobbes: The Series
Written by Garfieldodie

Tracer Bullet in Color!

Starring Bill Murray (Tracer Bullet fires his gun)

Also starring Tom Hanks (Tiger Eye is in an office when rapid gunfire goes off. He promptly fires back)

And Rex Hamilton as Abraham Lincoln (Abraham Lincoln is shot at, but Lincoln fires back)

Tonight's Special Guest Star: John Lithgow (John Lithgow is crushed by a safe)

Tonight's episode: A Dangerous Assignment

A security guard was walking down the hallway towards his desk. He promptly sat down upon arrival and pulled out a magazine.

Further down the hallway, a door opened. A pair of shiny shoes was all that could be seen in the light. They walked for a few steps before stopping to push the pedal down on a water fountain, therefore giving the owner a drink, and then they continued onwards down the hall.

The person stopped at a wall that had a directory on it. A leather-gloved hand slid down the wall, accidentally knocking a few letters off, before reaching the words it wanted to see: Judge J Oliver Maxwell 112. The person walked in that direction.

The security guard could now hear the footsteps, and he glanced up from his magazine. He had the good sense to put it down and get up from his desk to investigate.

Whoever was walking must have sensed him, because he instantly jumped back into the shadows.

The security guard went around the corner and saw…

…the janitor was using the floor buffer.

"Oh, it's only you, Ralph," said the security guard. "How's it going?"

"Good," Ralph replied,

The security guard went back to his desk.

Ralph floor-buffed for a bit before him and his buffer were promptly yanked into the next hallway.

After this happened, the black shiny shoes resumed their walking.

The security guard went back to his magazine.

The person in the shoes walked down the hallway until the little sign at the bottom of a door appeared that had 112 at the bottom. The person went inside, walked over tables and chairs, and arrived at the judge's stand. Very quietly, he switched the gavels, and then mysteriously left the room.

The next day, in the same courtroom, a bailiff stood before the jury.

"The State and the County of Boredom is now in session," he announced. "The honorable Judge Maxwell is presiding."

Judge Maxwell entered and went to his chair behind his podium.

"You may be seated," he announced.

The jury sat down and disappeared out of view, due to the fact there were no chairs.

Judge Maxwell put his glasses and on and reached for the gavel.

"The court will come to order," he said.

He slammed the gavel.

KABLAM!

It had exploded.

The bailiff stared at the now dead Judge Maxwell.

"Uh…," he said, waving the smoke away. "There will now be a five minute recess."

A car drove down the roads of the city. A man in a trench coat and hat was driving it, and in the backseat was some teenager who was washing the inside of the car.

My name is Tracer Bullet. I'm a private in the city. I was having my car washed when I received an urgent call from downtown. There'd been a bombing down at the courthouse. I got to the police headquarters where my young assistant, Tiger Eye would be waiting.

Tracer arrived at the police station a few minutes later. He paid the kid for washing his car and marched up into the main office where Tiger Eye was reading over some reports.

"Tiger Eye?" Tracer asked.

Tiger Eye looked up.

"Tracer, glad you're here," he said. "There was a sizeable explosion at the courthouse. The poor judge never stood a chance. Coffee?"

"Please."

Tiger Eye began pouring two cups of coffee.

"Anyone else hurt?" Tracer asked.

"Eh, some minor injuries, but nothing too serious."

"Good."

Tracer took his cup of coffee, and they resumed walking.

"Doughnut?" Tiger Eye asked.

"Sure."

Tiger Eye handed Tracer a doughnut, and Tracer put it on a tray.

They both grabbed trays and headed for the lunch line that was in the middle of the office.

"Sounds like the judge was a target," Tracer commented. "What do we know about him?"

"Well, his name was J Oliver Maxwell. He'd been on the bench of twelve years," Tiger Eye explained, taking some Jell-O. "He had a reputation for harsh sentences."

"A revenge killing, do you suppose?" Tracer suggested, taking some salad.

"Well, that was my original thought, yes," Tiger Eye replied, taking some peas and steak from the lunch lady. "I've had the boys go through the records of recently released prisoners. It turns out that seven of them were set up by Judge Maxwell himself."

After Tracer took his peas and steak, they sat down at the work desk and looked at some papers while they ate.

Tiger Eye handed Tracer a piece of paper.

"Here, I made a list for you," he said.

Tracer looked it over.

"Let's see…," he said, reading the names. "Huh, here's one: Casabas."

Just then, an egg timer went off.

DING!

Tracer looked up.

"Wait a minute, that name rings a bell," he said.

Tiger Eye looked at him.

"Casabas?" he asked.

The egg timer went off again.

DING!

"Casabas?" he said again, stroking his chin.

The fire alarm went off.

BRRRRRING!

"Casabas?" he continued, still thinking.

A doorbell was heard.

DING-DONG!

"Casabas…," he said, continuing to think.

Big Ben was heard.

DONG!

Then Tiger Eye looked up.

"Say, wasn't he the guy who was convicted of bombing about six or seven years ago?"

"Right!" said Tracer, snapping his fingers. "I remember him! He was a tough cookie."

"Yeah!" said Tiger Eye. He leaned over his shoulder. "Hey, Zack, do we have the papers on Andrew Casabas?"

A gray robot wearing trousers and a white button down shirt arrived, but his legs were extended, so he couldn't be seen on camera.

"Yeah, I got it right here," said Zack, handing Tiger Eye a portfolio.

"Thanks. Oh, Zack, you've got something on your face," Tiger Eye said, taking it.

"Where?" Zack asked, feeling around on his unseen face.

"You almost got it…," Tiger Eye said.

POP!

"There ya go."

Zack lowered his hand to reveal a trout.

"Huh," said Zack. "I must have left it there from lunch."

He walked away.

Tiger Eye flipped through the portfolio.

"Let's see," he said. "Andrew Casabas, age eight, sentenced to twelve years in prison for two counts of willful destruction of property and possession of explosives without a license. No previous felonies. Parole officer died after service for seven years. According to this here, he was a model prisoner."

He handed Tracer a picture.

It was a picture of Andrew Casabas modeling his jail suit.

"He ain't bad," Tracer said. "Pity about his situation."

"Well, it's as good a place as any to start," said Tiger Eye, putting the portfolio away, but still holding a small piece of paper, which he handed to Tracer. "Here's his last known address. His ex-wife still lives there."

Tracer stood up.

"Well, let's go check it out," he said.

Tiger Eye nodded and followed him.

Our file on Casabas had pointed out the fact that he had divorced while in prison. Her wife buried herself in charity work to ease the pain.
A young girl was putting objects into a box that read ORPHANS RELIEF FUND when the doorbell rang. She went to answer the door.

Tracer and Tiger Eye were behind it.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you Lana Casabas?" Tracer asked.

"Yes."

"Tracer Bullet and Tiger Eye: Private Eyes," he said, showing her his badge.

"May we ask you some questions?" Tiger Eye asked.

"Yes, come in."

Tracer and Tiger Eye entered the apartment.

"I hope you'll excuse the mess," Lana said. "I've been picking up a few things for charity. May I take your coats?"

"Thank you," said Tracer as he and Tiger Eye took off their trench coats and handed them to her.

Lana put them in the box for charity.

"Does this have anything to do with Andrew?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," said Tracer, who sat down on the couch.

"It has to do with the courthouse bombing, doesn't it?"

Tracer nodded.

"Have you seen or heard anything from Andrew since he's been released?" Tiger Eye asked, taking out a notepad and pencil.

Lana shook her head sadly.

"We haven't spoken much since the divorce," she sighed. "It's just as well."

"Do you know where Andrew is right now?" Tracer asked.

"You might try the Flamingo Club," Lana said, her voice breaking. "He hangs out there with one of the dancers, some floozy named Mimi Dejour."

"Dejour," said Tiger Eye, writing it down. "Is she French?"

"That's just her stage name," Lana whimpered, putting things into the box. "Her real name is Mimi Coffee."

"Coffee?" asked Tiger Eye.

"No thank you."

She took Tracer and Tiger Eye's hats and put them in the box.

Neither one seemed to care.

It seemed Lana was welcoming the moment the let her heart out. She and Andrew had had regular jobs, close friends, a dentist… She thought it would last forever. Slowly, he began to change. When Andrew's crimes came out, they were chased out of town. We waited until she had finished her story, and then left for what we hoped would be a rendezvous with Andrew Casabas.
Lana had finished filling the box with clothes, so Tracer and Tiger Eye left. Tracer was now down to his undershirt and boxers, and Tiger Eye only had a pencil in his ear and held a notepad.

Once they had redressed at the office, they set off.

We caught Mimi Dejour's show at Club Flamingo. We hoped our discussion with her would be just as revealing as her act.
They walked into the backstage room of the club, where they could hear men cheering and sleazy music.

They knocked on the door that said 'Mimi'.

"Come in," a voice said.

They opened the door and saw a girl wearing a sparkling outfit with feathers on it.

Tracer and Tiger Eye stared at her.

"Tracer Eye and Tiger Bullet," Tracer said. "Eyes Private. Ask to questions like we'd you."

The girl looked up and looked at them, wide-eyed.

"Is this some kind of bust?" she asked.

"Yes, it's very impressive, but we'd just like to ask some questions," said Tracer.

"Well, come on in."

They entered.

"Thank you. We'll try not to take up too much of your time," said Tiger Eye.

"Do you mind if I change?"

"No, not at all," said Tracer.

Mimi disappeared behind the changing curtain.

Tiger Eye flipped through his notes.

"I understand you're associated with a certain Andrew Casaba," he said.

"That's right. Why?"

"We just want to ask him some questions."

"He's not in any trouble, is he?"

"Well, we're not sure," said Tracer. "Do you know where we can find him?"

"Nope," said Mimi quickly.

Before they could prod further, a man with glasses and thinning hair entered.

"You're on in a few minutes," he said to Tracer and Tiger Eye.

Tracer waved him off.

"You've got the wrong guys," he said. "We're private eyes."

"Oh," said the man.

He pulled out some police uniforms.

"Again, five minutes."

And he left.

Tracer and Tiger Eye ignored him.

"Do you know where Andrew was last night?" Tiger Eye asked.

"Oh yes, he was with me," said Mimi, looking over at them. "We went to the movies on the waterfront."

Tracer sighed.

"There are no movie theaters on the waterfront," he said.

Just then, someone entered.

"Mimi," he said. "Ready?"

"Andrew!" Mimi gasped.

Tracer and Tiger Eye stared at him.

Andrew glared.

"Beat it, creeps," he said. "I'm taking the lady home."

Mimi whispered, "They're cops."

Andrew stared at them.

"That's right," said Tracer. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

Just then, the same man with glasses reentered.

"Two minutes," he informed Tracer and Tiger Eye. Then he noticed Andrew. "You! Are you a private eye too?"

"No, I'm an ex-con," Andrew replied.

"Oh."

The man pulled out a prison's uniform.

"Two minutes."

And he left.

"What were you doing on the waterfront last night, Andrew?" Tracer asked.

"I wasn't on the waterfront," Andrew replied. "I was at the movies."

"That's not what shesays," said Tiger Eye, nodding towards Mimi.

Andrew grunted.

"Now look," he said. "I know why you guys are here. You're trying to pin that court bombing on me!"

"We were getting around to that," said Tracer, nodding.

"Well, a lot of guys could've done it! You cops never give an ex-con a break! I try to put my past behind me, but then there's always somebody there to remind of who I am or where I've been. It's like I'm branded for life!" Andrew said, getting angrier.

"We're sorry about that, Andrew," Tracer said. "But don't plan on leaving town. We might wanna talk to you again."

Tracer and Tiger Eye left the room.

Andrew glared at Mimi.

"Did you tell them I was at the movies?" he demanded.

"Sure!" said Mimi. "Just like you said, Andrew! I'd never cross you!"

Andrew smirked and playfully punched her jaw.

"Good girl," he said, walking away.

Mimi smiled, but then frowned as she touched the spot where Andrew had tapped her. She spit out a tooth.

The next day, a man with goggles and crazy red hair was standing next to a girl with glasses. The girl was sitting on the counter in the man's lab. They were watching fur fly all around them as a cat howled.

"As you can see, young lady," the scientist said, "fish have gills which allows them breathe in the water, but mammals like this cat have lungs which are equipped to only accept oxygen, and then only in it's natural state, and that's why most mammals must live on land."

He picked up the cat, which was completely drenched, and handed it to the girl who toweled it off.

"Wow, that's neat," she said.

The scientist looked up and saw Tracer entering.

"Oh, good day, Tracer," he said, and then turned back to the girl. "Would you like to keep him?" he asked, motioning to the cat.

"Gee, can I? Thanks, Mr Olsen!" said the girl, taking the cat and walking away.

"No problem, kid," said Professor Olsen. "And next week, I'll teach you why women can't play professional football."

"Bye!"

The girl ran out the door with the cat.

Tracer looked up at Professor Olsen.

"Any progress, Ted?" Tracer asked.

"IT'S PROFESSOR OLSEN!" he shouted. "And some. Take a look at this."

Professor Olsen walked through a door into another room, while Tracer walked around the edge of the set and came back to his side.

"We've been sorting through the fragments left by the bombing," Professor Olson explained, motioning to a box of sawdust.

"What was the bomb made of?" asked Tracer.

"Well, we analyzed the fragments. There are seven common household chemicals. When mixed together in the proper ratio, they can be highly unstable."

Tracer thought about this.

"So what you're saying is that anyone with high school knowledge of chemistry could've made the bomb?" he asked.

"Exactly," Professor Olsen confirmed. "It's a very crude explosive and not the work of a professional."

Tracer pondered this.

That night, someone with dark shoes was walking around a car. They opened up the hood and placed a ticking bomb inside. After carefully closing the hood of the car, they walked away into the night.
The next morning, a man came walking down from his house and headed towards his car. He got inside and started the car.

KABOOM!

ACT II

RICHARD III

Tracer Bullet drove his car to the scene of the crime the following day, promptly crashing into some trashcans.

CRASH!

He quickly got out and looked at the blown up car.

A police officer was talking through a megaphone at two people, telling them to go away.

Other police officers were inspecting the car.

Tiger Eye was amongst them.

"Glad you're here, Tracer," he said.

"What've you got?" Tracer asked, overseeing everything.

"Victim's name was James Samuelson. He was a trial lawyer. Oh, and this'll interest you: he used to be an assistant DA, and seven years ago he prosecuted Andrew Casaba."

Tracer raised an eyebrow.

One of the cops, a tiger like Tiger Eye, approached and overlooked the destroyed car.

"I can't believe anybody would do something so cruel," he sighed.

Tracer and Tiger Eye nodded in agreement.

"Senseless brutality," Tracer said. "Senseless waste."

"Cut down in the prime of life," Tiger Eye added.

"That car was a classic," the tiger cop said. "It was a '68! You think the widow would take fifteen hundred for it?"

Tracer and Tiger Eye exchanged glances and then looked up when they heard the sound of an engine.

"Oh, the Toe Truck's arrived," said Tiger Eye, getting out of the way.

Everyone cleared the path as a truck shaped like a giant toe came up behind the wrecked car and took it away.

Tracer and Tiger Eye stood under a tree nearby.

"What do you think, Tiger Eye?" Tracer asked.

"Well, my guess is that it was the same sort of a bomb," Tiger Eye replied. "The strange thing is we were unable to find the body!"

Tracer watched the wreck being taken away.

"That was quite an explosion," he commented.

"Well, our job's done here."

"Yeah, we'd better head back to the office. What time is it?"

An arm suddenly dangled from the tree there were under.

Tiger Eye glanced at the watch that was on it.

"Wow!" he said. "It's later than I thought."

The tiger cop came up.

"Excuse me, Tracer," he said, handing him something. "I found this on the curb."

Tracer took it and looked at it.

It was a book of matches, and it said something on it.

"Club Flamingo…," he read.

Tracer glanced at Tiger Eye.

"I think we oughta have a little chat with Andrew Casabas," he said.

Tiger Eye nodded in agreement and they set off.

After they all left, a dead body fell out of the tree.

Andrew Casabas was sitting under a pair of lamps as Tracer and Tiger Eye drilled him.

"I'm telling ya!" he said frantically. "You got nothing on me! You're wasting your time!"

Tracer walked around him.

"Alright, Andrew, let's go over it again," he said impatiently. "Where were you last night?"

"I told you a dozen times! I was at the movies!"

Just then, Crateso the tiger cop came in carrying a box.

"I got the sandwiches," he said.

"Alright, Andrew, you went to the movies," said Tiger Eye. "You went to the movies. What did you see?"

"I told you, I don't remember!" Andrew insisted.

"Who had the egg salad?" asked Crateso.

"I don't remember," Tiger Eye mocked.

"Well, somebody ordered it!" Crateso said.

"You can't expect us to buy that!" Tracer said.

"But I already paid for it!" said Crateso, annoyed.

"Why don't you give a guy a break!" said Andrew.

"Thank you!" said Crateso.

"What's the charge anyway?" Andrew continued.

"About $4.58," said Crateso.

"What are you trying to do? Insult us?" Tiger Eye growled.

"Okay, $3.50! Coffee's on me!" Crateso said, getting frustrated.

"I told you! I went to the movies, I fell asleep, I don't remember!" Andrew wailed.

"You don't expect us to swallow that!" Tracer snorted.

"Alright,I'll eat it," Crateso grumbled. "But I don't think its fair that I should have to pay for it!"

And with that, he stormed out.

"Alright, Andrew, let's say you didgo to the movies," Tiger Eye said, getting close to him.

"Okay," Andrew sighed.

They all looked ahead.

"Youdid go to the movies," they all said together.

"And let's say you were nowhere nearthe Club Flamingo," Tracer said.

They all looked ahead.

"You were nowhere nearthe Club Flamingo," they all said.

"Then explain this!" said Tracer, slamming the match book down on the desk.

Andrew picked it up and looked at it.

"Well, you take this little cardboard stick out with sulfur on the end, and you rub it on the edges, and it makes fire," he explained.

"Don't play dumb with me, Andrew!" Tracer said angrily. "You spent a lot of time at the Club Flamingo."

"Yeah, and so did a lot of guys! It was a popular club!"

"Why don't you make it easier on yourself?! Tell us the truth!"

"I AIN'T LYIN'! YOU GOT NOTHIN' ON ME! YOU GOT NOTHIN' TA BOOKS ME ON!" Andrew shouted.

Tiger Eye paused.

"Tracer, come here," he said.

Tracer and Tiger Eye walked away from him.

"I'm afraid he's right," Tiger Eye sighed. "We're gonna have to let him go. All the evidence we have is purely circumstantial."

Tracer sighed.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighed.

Tracer and Tiger Eye turned and started to leave the police station.

"Tell the bomber to take off," Tracer ordered as they left.

One of the policemen stood up and went over to the window and stuck his arm out of it, giving someone outside a thumb up.

The sound of an airplane taking off could be heard.

That night, when I got home, I received a call from Mimi Dejour. She said she wanted to meet me at the club right away. Since I had no idea where the Club Right Away was, I suggested the Club Flamingo. She agreed.
Tracer got to the Club Flamingo close to its closing time. That didn't stop the service from being polite.

"May I check your coat?" an employee asked.

"Please," Tracer said.

She pulled out a marker and drew a checkmark on Tracer's jacket.

Tracer nodded in thanks and continued onwards until he found a booth where Mimi was sitting by herself.

"Ah, Mimi Dejour," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Oh, Mr Bullet, thank you for coming," she said happily.

Tracer reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"Cigarette?" he asked.

"Yes, it is," Mimi replied.

Tracer put them away.

"Well, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"It's about Andrew," she said. "I can't cover for him anymore." Then she called the waiter. "Two more, please!" she called.

"What do you mean?" Tracer asked.

"I lied," she explained. "He never took me to the movies."

"What?" Tracer asked, pretending to be surprised.

"I said, I lied, he never took me to the movies," Mimi replied, a little bit louder.

The waiter brought them their drinks.

The cups were so decked up in umbrellas and straws there was barely any room for a beverage.

"Where did you go?" Tracer asked.

"Out somewhere," Mimi replied. "He told me it was best if I didn't know anything. If he's mixed up in all this trouble, I don't wanna be a part of it."

Tracer took a sip from his drink.

"I understand," he said.

"No, you don't! You don't know how hard it is ratting on the guy you love! I've been getting higher hopes since he divorced his wife!"

Tracer looked up.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I thought Lana left him."

"No," said Mimi, tearing up. "And now he has good reason to dump me too. Maybe I should've just kept my big mouth shut."

And she started to whimper.

Tracer quickly gave her a tissue to wipe her eyes.

Mimi had done the right thing. She had given me some useful answers. But now I needed more. There was only place I could get them from.
The next morning, Tracer went to get his shoes shined by Jerry the Shoe-Shining Hamster. The little hamster was wearing a cap on his head.

"Morning, Jerry," Tracer said, sitting on one of his seats.

"Morning, Tracer," Jerry replied, getting out his shoe polish. He began to shine Tracer's shoes.

"I need some information on a certain parolee," Tracer whispered.

Jerry simply shrugged.

Tracer pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to him.

Jerry took it.

"You mean Andrew Casaba?" he asked.

Tracer nodded.

"What do you know about him?"

Jerry checked around him and spoke very quietly.

"Convicted bomber, released a month ago…," he began.

"No, no, no, I know all that. I need something more personal. What occupies his time?" he asked, handing Jerry a second dollar bill.

"Mimi Dejour and the Milwaukee Brewers."

Tracer looked up.

"Does he see many games?" he asked, handing him another dollar bill.

"Season tickets," replied Jerry, taking it, and then handing him a little ticket stub. "That's all I have on him."

Tracer pondered this and got up to leave.

"Thanks, Jerry," he said, walking away.

Jerry simply nodded in reply and waited for his next customer.

Next walked in an old lady wearing a polka dotted dress. She sat in one of Jerry's chairs. Jerry started to shine her shoes.

"Jerry, I've heard of something called the Cinderella Complex," she said.

"So?" Jerry asked.

The woman handed him a dollar bill.

Jerry checked around him and replied, "Women's success has left many of them confused about their wants and needs. Consequently, stress related burnout has driven many women from feminist to aggression to female passivity, making them dependent on their partner for vicarious fulfillment."

"What do I tell them?" the woman asked, handing him another dollar bill.

Taking it, Jerry replied, "Tell them to get in touch with their partner about their unconscious feelings, and then they can join in the growth process with their partner."

The woman smiled.

"Thanks, Jerry," she said, and she got down and left.

Jerry simply waited for another customer.

Later that afternoon, Tracer was back in his office and on the phone.

Tiger Eye was playing darts.

"Hello, Lana?" Tracer said. "Tracer Bullet here. We picked up Andrew, but we had to release him. We don't have enough to hold him on."

He heard Lana sigh over the phone.

"He's such a vindictive man," she said. "What will it take to put him behind bars for good?"

"Well, we're missing that one bit of evidence that would make this an airtight case," he said, opening the file cabinet marked MUG FILES. "In the mean time, Lana, we're worried about you and Mimi."

"Mimi?!" asked Lana, surprised.

"Yeah, Mimi blew his alibi," Tracer replied. "He knows that one of you told on him to the police, and he's mad. There's no predicting what he might do." He pulled a coffee mug out of the file cabinet and went to fill it with coffee. "We sent some cops over to Mimi's, but she's gotten tired having the cops around."

"I see."

"We're prepared to offer you the same police protection."

"Well, that's nice of you, Mr Bullet, but that won't be necessary. I'm leaving town tonight."

"Oh, I see. Well, in the long run, it might be just as well," he said. "Now listen, Lana, in the meantime, be careful."

He hung up.

Lana's attitude seemed confusing. She was almost hostile towards Andrew, and yet she felt no threat from him. Now she was suddenly leaving town. Mimi was scared. She had to be. She was a sitting duck. She loved Andrew, that was clear, but if he was the bomber, it that there could be no future. There was nothing we could do but wait until the bomber made his next move, and then hopefully stop him before he struck again.
Tracer and Tiger Eye were staked not too far way from Mimi's apartment building in their car. To keep themselves occupied, they were loudly munching on doughnuts and slurping their coffee.

"Is she still there?" asked Tiger Eye.

Tracer looked up at the apartment window.

They could see Mimi pacing back and forth in her room.

"Mm-hmm," Tracer replied, taking another doughnut. "You gotta hand it to Mimi. Her life's in danger, but she won't run away."

Tiger Eye nodded in agreement.

While they were noisily eating, a pair of shiny black shoes walked down the sidewalk. The footsteps could be heard from up to…around the sidewalk, actually. They walked up to Mimi's apartment building, and stopped directly beneath her window. He placed a bomb in the spot under the window. Then he began to let out a long length of cable connecting from the bomb to the plunger he was carrying.

Tracer and Tiger Eye were still munching and slurping.

Mimi continued to pace at her window.

The bomber started to connect the cable to the plunger.

Tracer and Tiger Eye continued their loud dining.

By now, the bomb was almost set.

Tracer casually glanced outside the car and in that particular direction. He quickly stopped Tiger Eye in mid-slurp.

"Hold it," he said. "There's someone over there. Let's go."

Tiger Eye nodded and they both began to get out of the car. Tiger Eye pulled out a communicator.

"We've spotted the suspect and we're moving in!" he whispered.

"ROGER! WE COPY!" a loud voice said.

"Shhh!" Tiger Eye hissed. "Be quiet!"

"SORRY! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT!"

"Will you be quiet?!"

"ROGER! READY TO ASSIST!"

By some miracle, the bomber didn't hear them, and prepared to push down the plunger.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, LANA! THE GAME'S OVER!" Tracer shouted.

Lana looked up in surprise from her plunger.

"Stand back!" she ordered.

"Now just make it easy for yourself," said Tracer, holding up his gun. "We know you did those other bombings!"

"I'm warning you!" Lana retorted. "One wrong move and I'll blow this whole neighborhood up!"

By now, a crowd had formed.

"Everyone get back!" Tiger Eye ordered. "You're all in danger! Run to safety!"

The crowd immediately ran to the safety of the road, where they were immediately creamed by an oncoming truck.

Tracer, Tiger Eye and Lana were showered by several possessions as they continued the standoff.

"Get away from that detonator!" Tracer ordered.

"Forget it, Bullet," Lana growled. "You set me up! If I can't have Andrew back, I'll make sure Mimi can't either!"

She slammed the plunger down.

"NO!" cried Tracer.

But something strange happened.

Or should I say, didn't happen?

There was no explosion.

Lana was confused, so she tried again and again.

"I don't understand!" she wailed.

Then they saw someone approaching.

"Andrew!" Lana cried.

Andrew was holding the bomb. He handed it to Tracer.

"Just in time, Andrew," Tracer grinned.

"Piece of cake, Tracer," Andrew replied.

"No thanks, I just ate."

Lana stared at them.

The sirens of police cars were heard.

Crateso and a few others came up. They immediately cuffed up Lana.

"Well, I see you didn't leave town tonight," Tracer said coyly, "but you're leaving soon for the State Bill Prison."

"Okay, boys," said Tiger Eye. "Run her in."

The cops immediately led Lana to a starting line. Once there, Crateso fired his starting gun, and Lana and the cops raced to prison.

The next day, Tracer and Tiger Eye were sitting in the office having coffee.

"You know, there's still one thing that baffles me about this case," Tiger Eye said. "You said Andrew lied about his alibi?"

"Yeah, he wasn't at the movie," Tracer explained. "He was watching a baseball game over in Milwaukee. He was afraid to tell anyone because going over the state line is a violation of parole."

"Parole violation? What are we gonna do about that?"

"Eh, forget it. There are some things you can't deprive a man of."

"Well, I'll drink to that, Tracer," said Tiger Eye, clinking his mug with Tracer's.

Then they tried to hold that position while the credits rolled, but you could still see them blinking under the names as they wobbled.

Case Closed

Voice Work

Pamela Segall Adlon: Calvin(Narrator)
Bill Murray: Tracer Bullet / Dad (Guy at the Club Flamingo)
Tom Hanks: Hobbes (Tiger Eye) / Bailiff
Ryan Stiles: Socrates (Crateso)
Andrew Lawrence: Andy (Andrew Casabas)
Colin Mochrie: Sherman (Jerry) / Judge J Oliver Maxwell
Dakota Fanning: Susie (Mimi) / Little Girl with Cat
Daveigh Chase: Rosalyn (Lana)
Neil Crone: Dr Brainstorm (Professor Olsen)
Michael Brandon: Jack (Zack)
Jennifer Love Hewitt: Mom (Coat Checker)

Coming up Next: A Calvin and Hobbes: The Series Double-Halloween Feature, RIP Calvin and Pranking the Ghosts