Act 3: For the Love of Lobstee
After discovering the dead lobster, Fillmore dragged Alistair Greystone to the interrogation room at Safety Patrol headquarters for questioning. After sitting him down, he placed the lobster in between them.
"I'm gonna ask you once again, Greystone," Fillmore said threateningly, "Is this Lobstee?"
"Uh… Yeah. I steamed him up real good, huh?" Alistair said very nervously.
"And why would you do that, Alistair?"
"Uh… 'Cause the market price of seafood's gone through the roof?"
The door opened allowing Ed and Ingrid to walk in.
"Guess what. That's not the real Lobstee." Ed said.
"We found this receipt where Alistair fell." Ingrid said holding up a piece of paper. "I traced it to Papa Cracky's Crawfish Barrel."
"And Alistair's not even the mastermind." Ed said. "Riddle me this. How do you say something to someone without saying it?"
"A message." Ingrid said.
"That was meant for Fillmore." Ed said holding up Alistair's pocket device. "You see this thing that Alistair likes to carry around. He just got a message from an anonymous sender. They asked 'Is the live lobster in place'."
"Wait. It says 'live' lobster?" Alistair asked taken by surprise.
"We found dozens of old emails on that pocket com that detail the location of lost retainers, the scheduling of future corn beef on cabbage days, almost everything you've ever predicted over the past month." Ingrid said.
"You're not really psychic, are you?" Ed asked.
"No, I am! At least, I was." Alistair said sullenly. "Look, I used to have a real gift. I could see stuff, stuff that hadn't happened yet. And it was perfect, 'cause all I ever wanted to be was a professional psychic. It was my dream. But one day a few weeks ago, poof. My visions, they just stopped coming just like that. My dream wasn't gonna happen. My psychic career was all dried up. Or so I thought."
"You started getting these emails." Ingrid realized.
"They were telling me all kinds of future stuff, like how we'd lose tonight's game and how Vern Natoma had lobster treats hidden in his drawer. I was back in business again."
"And then?" Fillmore asked.
"Today, I got an email from the same person who sent me the others, saying if I didn't find a Lobstee look-alike and plant in him in Vern Natoma's bedroom for you guys to find, he'd expose me as a phony."
"Wait a minute." Ed said. "It all goes back to Vern Natoma."
"What are you thinking, Ed?" Ingrid asked.
"What if this wasn't about tonight's game or Alistair's psychic career? It was about Vern Natoma getting framed."
"So who has to gain from that?" Fillmore asked.
"I think I know." Ingrid said. "Harrison Post. When Vern Natoma was forced to take a leave of absence, he was named the new editor in chief."
"He's a journalist, so he had every chance to plant the lobster treats in Vern Natoma's desk." Ed said. "That gives him means, motive, and opportunity."
"Disco." Fillmore said proudly.
The big game was about to begin, and the Lobsters weren't doing so well. Without their mascot, as Folsom predicted, their morale was too low for them to pull of another win. No one was happy, save for one.
Harrison Post watched the game from his special stand above the bleachers. He pulled out his own pocket com and typed in it reading it aloud.
"Dear Alistair, here's your latest prediction. Tomorrow's headline will read 'Goats Bleat Up Lobsters in Worst Loss Ever'."
"Funny. 'Cause I have my own headline." Ed said as he entered the stand to confront Harrison. He was accompanied by Fillmore, Ingrid, Alistair, Renee, and Maggie. "'Reporter Fraud Busted'. Though, we'll see how Vern Natoma feels about it once he gets his position back."
"What are you talking about?" Harrison asked.
"We know you abducted Lobstee." Renee said.
"And you framed Vern Natoma so you would take his job." Maggie said.
"You put your career before everything else." Ingrid said. "Stealing a beloved mascot for your own personal gain."
"I'm not gonna stand here and listen to this." Harrison said. "I'm an editor in chief now. I work in proof, not poppycock."
"Yeah, you're editor in chief now, Harrison," Fillmore said swiping the suspect's pocket compact, "But that's done. We got proof enough to remedy that sitch."
"You really should have cleared your inbox history so we wouldn't find all these messages sent from your compact to Alistair's." Ed said.
"Oh, you like riddles, Nygma?" Harrison asked. "Here's one. How am I like a nose? The answer… I RUN!"
Harrison turned and jumped out the window. The others went to chase after him.
"You guys go after Post." Renee said. "Me and Maggie will find Lobstee. We don't have a lot of time."
"Can I help?" Alistair asked. "I have a feeling I can help."
"Why not? Could use an extra set of eyes." Maggie said.
The teams split up and went on their respective directions. Fillmore, Ingrid, and Ed chased Harrison into the carnival. They managed to track him in the hall of mirrors, but once they were inside, they began seeing reflections of him on every mirror surface they saw. They had no way of knowing which one was the real Harrison.
"You don't understand." Harrison said. "I wanna be a top reporter. I wanna make a difference. It's my dream. It's always been my dream. What's wrong with that?"
"There's nothing wrong with your dream," Fillmore said, "But the stuff you've done to make it happen, you got a little lost along the way Harrison."
"And now, maybe you're not even the same kid who dreamed that dream." Ingrid said. "Because you haven't been helping anybody. You've been hurting."
"You fools!" Harrison said. "You couldn't possibly understand. Natoma didn't deserve that job. I did. I've worked twice as hard as he has. Editor in chief is my just reward."
"Look, man, I get it." Ed said. "Seeing someone else get something that you deserve more? But that's just life. And if you have to steal and cheat to get your way, then you don't deserve it after all. You can't just be deserving. You have to be worthy. But all you've ever been is a bigger fake than the psychic."
Eventually, Harrison was found, and he made a break for it outside. The three was about to continue chasing after him, but another idea came up. They stopped at a nearby bounce house and pushed it over to the downhill direction where Harrison was. It flipped over and over until it landed upside down over the suspect. He was trapped like he was in a cage.
"Gotcha, Harrison." Fillmore said.
Miraculously, Lobstee was found and returned to the bocce game. Seeing their mascot alive and well, the Lobsters pulled off an amazing comeback and win the game. The school gave their biggest celebration yet while the central heroes gathered up at the Safety Patrol headquarters.
"I gotta ask," Ed said, "Montoya, Sawyer, how did you two find Lobstee?"
"Actually, we didn't." Maggie said. "Alistair lead most of the way. Whenever we hit a crossroad in our search, he made a series of decisions which all lead to Lobstee in the lobster cage at the lake."
"For real?" Fillmore asked.
"I know you guys don't believe in my gift, but I'm telling ya', for those few minutes, it came back." Alistair said. "Anyway, sorry about everything, guys. I got so career crazy, that I swindled people to stay successful. To become what I wanted to be, I sorta gave up on who I wanted to be. I predict there's gonna be a lot less predicting in my future. Well, hasta la bye-bye officers." With that, Alistair left the headquarters.
"I better go too." Maggie said. "My principal is going to freak out when he hears that I helped the enemy find their mascot."
"Sorry about that." Renee said.
"Don't be. Look, I didn't pick my career because of fame. I did it because I wanted to. A Safety Patrol officer is supposed to help anyone who needs help, whether they're Gilby, X, or anyone else. Doesn't that sound right?"
Renee smiled. "Yeah. I figure that too."
"Who knows? Maybe we'll see each other again sometime. Until then, see you around, Montoya." Maggie said before leaving.
"So Ed, Fillmore," Ingrid said, "You really think it was dumb luck that Alistair was able to find Lobstee?"
"Must have been." Fillmore said. "I mean, what other explanation is there?"
"It's gonna take a lot more than a found lobster to convince me psychics are real." Ed said. "Anyway, I can't wait for tomorrow's newspaper."
"Why?" Ingrid asked. "Since when do you care about the news?"
"Well, after we got Vern Natoma his job back, he asked me if there was anything I could want in return." Ed replied. "Since I'm not officially part of the Safety Patrol, I figured I could get some kind of reward. And I got it."
"What reward is this?" Fillmore asked.
"You'll see tomorrow." Ed said with an eager grin. "In the meantime, Fillmore, don't you have a crawfish dinner with your family tonight?"
The next day, Ingrid was curious about the newspaper. Something in it was something that Ed was expecting. So when she came to school, the first thing she did was take a paper and look through its pages. She scrolled through it until she found a segment she had never seen before. It read as such…
"The Riddler's Teasers!
Today's riddle: How many pieces of string does it take to reach the moon?"
Ingrid chuckled. "Looks like Ed's got another outlet for his brain. Good for him. By the way, the answer is probably, one if it was long enough."