"— Underdog!" Sweet Polly called out for him excitedly. She had been about halfway through her broadcast when he came in, alone at the desk and in the process of reaching for her script. The hero smiled, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Polly's eyes flashed as she noticed, but she tried not to look too off-put. The hero entered the camera's frame, strolling right up to her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, raising a hand to prompt him.
Quick as lightning, the hero snapped one side of a handcuff to Sweet Polly's wrist. The other was already attached to himself.
Polly tried to pull away, but the two of them were now locked to eachother. Her fingers quivered. "What is this?" she pleaded, "Why are you handcuffing us together?"
The hero leaned over her, an evil smile appearing on his face. "Because, Sweet Polly, I'm not Underdog," he fished around his cape and placed a bomb on her desk, "I'm Taptap, the chiseler."
Polly screamed.
Taptap's heart raced as she did, keeping his hand firmly on the top of the bomb, his fingers split by the button that detonated it. His smile widened. He turned up to look at her cameramen, each of them looking just as frightened. One had stepped away from the camera and started to rush toward her but had stopped dead in his tracks when the bomb came out.
He faced a camera and spoke again, "And I'm warning Underdog that unless he comes to us and does exactly as I say, I will push the button on this bomb and blow us both to bits."
"Y-you thief!" Polly yelled at him, her voice cracking, "Underdog will never do as you say! Just wait 'til he gets there!"
Taptap just kept smiling at her. Within a moment, though, Underdog had flung open the doors to the studio and strode in, rounding Polly's desk to stand at her other side. He looked pissed, his eyebrows furrowed, his fists clenched, his arms rigid and ready to attack, and some of his teeth bared, ready to bite.
"There's no need to fear; Underdog is here!" he cried.
Taptap looked down on him and snickered, "Wrong, Underdog, there's plenty to fear!"
Underdog put a hand up to stop him. "For just one minute, I'll listen to you," he snarled, crossing his arms, "What evil deed would you have me do?"
Taptap snickered a little more before replying. He wanted to kill all three of them live on air, but Underdog would kill him before he said that. Not that the idea sounded terrible, but Taptap couldn't let himself go out without taking Underdog, at least, with him.
So instead, he said, "First, bring me a million bucks from the bank. Then, promise you'll never bother me again."
Polly turned to him, begging weakly, "Don't do it, Underdog."
But Underdog had taken from staring at either of them to the chainlink connecting Taptap to Polly. All at once, the chain snapped, and Underdog flew at him. Taptap slapped the button, and the bomb started to tick. Polly yipped and smacked it away, hiding beneath her desk. Taptap heard panic break out within the studio, even as Underdog beat him. Underdog heard it too and hesitated mid-punch. Quickly, he untied his cape and let it fall over Taptap, flying away to protect his sweet Polly.
The bomb exploded.
Taptap shut his eyes and waited until he couldn't open them again.
...
...that time never came.
Someone started coughing, and Taptap's eyes shot open. The blue of Underdog's cape was above him—he had expected black when he died. The air smelled like smoke. He still felt a hard carpet beneath him. Taptap tossed the cape off himself and got to his knees. He looked around the room. The cameraman who had almost stopped him was extinguishing a fire on the carpet. The other one was on the phone. The red panda who co-hosted with Polly was running into the room. Underdog was helping her stand as she coughed, but he locked eyes with Taptap and stared.
Taptap could hear his growl from there. Taptap's palms started to sweat, and his heart pumped hard against his chest. "N-no—" he gasped. He tried to stand but fell back onto his knees. The smoke and nitrogen snuck into his lungs and he coughed; his ribs felt like they were squeezing him together. "I'm supposed to be dead—!" he exclaimed, breathless, "You're supposed to be dead! How did—" he broke into a cough. The panda took Polly from Underdog, and the hero bolted over to him in a flash of red. With little care for his state, Underdog yanked him up by the back collar of his shirt and flew him away, dropping him closer to the doors onto the hard tile of the rest of the studio.
Taptap reached a hand out to him—he wanted to kill him even more than ever—but Underdog just narrowed his eyes and walked away, picking up his cape as he went. Then Taptap heard sirens. Quickly, cops entered the building yelling, and he felt one pull him up again to cuff him.
"Back to jail with you, buddy!" the one behind him said.
"A damn looney bin," said the other.
Taptap hung his head and heaved. He hardly heard the words. All he felt was the shame of failure.
Taptap woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up in his bed and clutching his chest. He was breathless, the smoke in his lungs again. He spotted blue and looked down—it was just his blanket, a much darker blue than Underdog's cape. He clenched the smooth, cold sheets in his fist. Slowly, that calmed him down. Taptap was in his home - not a TV studio, nor a courtroom, nor a jail cell, nor a mental hospital.
He threw the blanket off his legs and stood, trying to push the memory to the back of his mind. He then went to his bathroom and splashed some water on his face to really make it fade—but instead, the dream was replaced with the encounter he had last night. He looked up to the mirror as the water dripped off his fur.
Underdog had saved Taptap's life by throwing his invincible cape over him—and no wonder, Taptap told himself, if they truly were brothers.
"God—" Taptap choked out, a sob catching in his throat. And what if Underdog was right? What was he planning? Would he try to bring Taptap out of his gang? Taptap could never do that; he had a partner he loved and several good friends and made a lot of money in the business. He worried what Underdog would do when he refused.
His hands gripped tightly onto the marble of the countertop. The last thing he needed was even more of that stupid, fink "hero" in his life.
He suddenly sucked in a sharp breath of air and stood up properly. If Underdog was so sure they were long-lost brothers, Taptap would have to find out for himself.
Taptap started to clean himself up as he devised a plan—he knew, of course, that he couldn't let the rest of the Gang know. Least of all Riff, even if it hurt his heart, Taptap knew he couldn't risk telling the mafia boss what he was doing. He couldn't be sure what he would do.
In spite of that, he figured that Riff would be the best place to start. Although some of his plots could end up quite messy, Riff himself was an orderly man. He kept many records of their robberies and schemes to keep track of what they had gained and what they could do better. Taptap could recall one where Riff, Mooch, Sandy, Dyna and Spinny had all come home boasting that they knew who Underdog truly was.
Taptap put his comb down on the bathroom counter, flattening down his ears with his hands. He would be the judge of that.
Taptap came upstairs to the sounds of joyous laughter and angry shouting. Unfortunately, he could not make much of it out. Since Underdog had last collapsed their roof, Riff had an extra wall put up between the living and dining room to (hopefully) give it more stability. Through the doorway, though, he could see Smitty and Needles talking enthusiastically to eachother, as well as half of Dyna.
He turned his gaze to the dining room, wherein he spotted Riff. His ears pricked. Riff was leaning against the knee-wall of the kitchen, talking to Mooch as he put various things in a crock pot. Taptap pushed one of the kitchen chairs into the table as he strode up.
Riff, of course, heard the scoot of it and turned to him. "Oh, Taps!" he greeted, "Good morning."
"Good afternoon," Mooch corrected, focusing on what he was cooking.
"Right, whatever," Riff said, waving him off. He came closer to Taptap, kissing his cheek in greeting. "How are you, huh? You were all out of sorts last night."
Taptap shrugged, "I'm fine. How's your hangover?"
Riff laughed and replied, "Not that bad!" He moved to scoot the same chair back out and gestured to Taptap to sit. Taptap did.
"I was... wondering," Taptap ventured as Riff sat beside him. "You had that scheme where you found out who Underdog truly was, right?"
Riff blinked at him, eyes momentarily going wide. "Yes," he stated firmly. "It was while you were in the psych ward—" Taptap clutched tightly onto his sleeve at the memory of his dream, "— we were trying to steal the original copy of the painting Whistler's Father."
"Right," Taptap replied, "I know. Underdog was guarding it, so you got the whole Gang involved."
Riff nodded along, "But he started taking it home at night, so we put a bag of birdseed on the painting to follow him."
"Then you broke into his house?" Taptap asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Riff snickered, "Then we broke into his apartment."
"Right," Taptap went on, undeterred. His ears pricked, prepared to listen carefully to whatever Riff said next. "And that's when you saw who he was?"
Riff glanced away, his ears falling low. "Well..." Taptap's ears fell, too, as he grumbled slightly. Riff didn't notice and continued, "There was someone in his apartment. Just some guy. He was fat and he had glasses and he was so damn meek."
Taptap's foot started to tap on the ground. "He didn't look like Underdog?" he asked, slightly annoyed.
"A bit," Riff answered, gazing toward the ceiling as he tried to recall. He circled his hand in the air and furrowed his brows, ears pressing flat to his head. "But that's where it gets weird, alright?" Taptap tilted his head, suddenly feeling as confused as Riff looked. "This guy and Underdog... suddenly popping out all over the place. Got all disorienting, so we grabbed the painting and left."
"And proceeded to get beaten up by Underdog. Right. Yes," Taptap replied, deadpan. He quickly reached forward to take Riff's hands, leaning in close. His tail wagged through the back of the chair. "But you found out who he was! Riff, tell me who Underdog is!"
Riff scooted back. "I didn't get his name." Taptap's face dropped, grumbling. Riff let out an awkward laugh, squeezing his hands in an attempt to make him feel better. "Why are you asking?" His ears suddenly went up, "Trying to plan another robbery?"
Taptap glanced between his hands and his earnest face. Riff's eyes glittered. Taptap sat back in his chair, dropping his hands. "...yyyesss."
Riff laughed, his fangs emerging from his lips. He pumped his fists in the air. "Great! What are you planning?"
"Uh..." Taptap's face heated up. He reached up to scratch his neck and glanced away. "Well, I'm-I'm not planning anything at the moment, but I... I think it'd be nice to have, just in case, right?"
The glimmer in Riff's eyes faded, but he gave a single nod. "Yes. That's a great idea, Taptap—hey, I bet Dyna remembers all the details of it. You should ask her."
That perked Taptap up. "You think she'll know?" he asked excitedly.
"Sure," Riff exclaimed, "Dyna knows all sorts of stuff like that. Batty Manning, Simon Barsinister—"
Taptap shot up, eyes gleaming and smiling so wide that his face hurt. "I'll ask her! Thank you, Riff."
"Uh—" Riff stood a little slower, "No problem?"
Taptap patted his bicep in another thanks and skipped off toward the living room. He leaned his head into the room and took in the scene: Sandy, Spinny and Nails sat together with game controllers in their hands on the couch near the barroom. Some fighting game was on the television; Sandy and Nails were both leaning forward on the edges of their couch cushions, Sandy's tongue out between her teeth. Meanwhile, Spinny leaned back and relaxed with half-lidded eyes and a smug smile on his face.
On the couch in front of the doorway was Dyna, leaning over the arm, watching. Needles sat on the far side of the sofa and spoke to his boyfriend, Smitty, who sat on the final loveseat parallel to the wall. They were enthralled in whatever conversation they were having.
Taptap padded into the room and strode up to Dyna. The vixen's ear twitched in his direction, and she looked up at him with a sneer. "About time you got here. You ever seen Spinny kick ass in Bash Brothers before?"
Taptap glanced back to the commotion. "Oh, is that what's going on?" He turned back to Dyna. "Not even rooting for your girlfriend?"
Dyna blew a raspberry and snickered. "No way. She always picks whoever she knows, and all the characters she knows suck."
"Ah."
Dyna finished laughing and patted the cushion next to her. "Anyway, what's up? Need some make-up or something?"
Taptap sat down. "Riff told me you knew who Underdog was."
Dyna stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes dramatically. She leaned away from the arm of the couch and crossed her legs. "Oh, yes. Poor Riff, more focused on robberies than finding out who his worst enemy is, hm?"
Taptap smiled slightly and exhaled sharply, unable to defend his husband.
Dyna went on, lowering her voice. Taptap leaned in a bit closer. "Who he is, where he lives, stuff like that. Really want to perfect your act this time?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taptap nodded.
Dyna snickered lowly, "Gotcha. First off, he lives with that snobby little reporter Polly Purebred in Wallace Apartments on Madison Avenue. Polly says he just crashes there, but I think the little brat we saw that night is really him."
Taptap nodded, very interested. "So, who is he?"
Dyna rolled her eyes again, slumping down in her seat. "He's that kid that hangs around Polly when she's out. Sandy and I looked all over for the lease to the apartment the weeks after, but we couldn't come up with anything."
Taptap huffed, a little disappointed. Still, he asked, "Well, do you remember the apartment number?"
Dyna shook her head. "Too dark to see that night. Couldn't make it out. But it was the sixth floor."
"Sixth floor at Wallace Apartments on Madison Avenue," Taptap repeated while Dyna nodded. "I can work with that."
Dyna giggled a little as Taptap stood back up. "Should get you through," she said, "What hero wants to give out their address, anyway?"
Taptap laughed back politely, but knew he wouldn't be giving out the address. He needed to find out who was living there. As he turned to leave, he jumped as he found Riff in the doorway.
"Hi, doll," he greeted, Mooch towering behind him. He turned to the three people gaming on the couch and raised a hand to his mouth to call out, "Pack it up, kids; time for the mid-day broadcast!"
"Hang on, hang on, hang on, hang on—" Nails replied, leaning forward even further. Simultaneously, two of the characters on screen were knocked off of the platform they fought on in a flash of white. "[ #$%]!"
Spinny just laughed at their exclamation, clearly the winner. He sat up and tossed the remote to Riff, who expertly caught it and started to navigate back to regular television. Nails and Smitty moved past Taptap to comfort their partner, and Riff and Mooch drew closer to listen clearly to Sweet Polly's broadcast.
As her face appeared on screen next to her co-host, Taptap turned away, his heartbeat picking up rapidly. The red panda beside her started to speak bombastically, but he did not care to hear. Riff clicked up the volume even louder, and Taptap skulked away, careful to step gently and quietly, though unable to keep his claws from clicking against the hardwood.
Riff almost certainly had someone on hand for affairs of this nature, Taptap thought to himself as he placed a hand on the front door. He sucked in a breath and opened it slowly, ensuring it wouldn't squeak, then squeezed through the small opening he made for himself. He closed it just as carefully. As soon as the lock clicked back into place, Taptap let out the breath he was holding, and the tension in his muscles fell away.
Taptap knew, at heart, Riff considered himself somewhat of a businessman. If he needed something that no one in his gang could provide, Riff knew of someone who could. Taptap strode across the way, sneaking into Riff's office. He closed the door slowly and swiftly made his way behind his desk. He collapsed into the office chair and let out an extra sigh. He didn't want to be sneaking around his own home, from his own husband—but, even less, did he want his boss to find out that he might be related to Underdog.
He wheeled the chair up and looked over the desk. A few papers were strewn across it, logging the robbery they had committed the night before. In the corners of the desk sat three things: on the right, a lone archaic answering machine; on the left, a landline phone and a rotating cardholder. Taptap picked up the cardholder and brought it closer, flipping through it. Most of them were hand-written, with a name, profession and phone number, while some were genuine business cards.
His eyes glazed over as he skimmed through the names: Batty Manning, Tortilla Fats, Savoir Faire, something scratched off, Prince Clown, Electric Eel & Cherry Eel— ?
Despite his confusion, Taptap shook his head and continued, though he promised himself he would ask Eel about it the next time they saw eachother. He flipped through the rest of the cards, with few drawing his interest. With a sigh, he put the holder back in its spot, setting it at the same angle it was so Riff wouldn't notice. With that task failed, he wheeled the chair backward and turned to the drawers.
His shoulders fell.
Taptap did not like paperwork. He didn't come into Riff's office. He didn't know where his case files would be.
He took a deep breath in and out and rolled his shoulders. There were only five drawers; he would find them sooner or later. He started at the top on the left side, pulling out the thin drawer until it almost fell off its rollers. Inside were mainly office supplies: felt-tip pens, a stapler and a few packs of staples, a roller of correction tape, and at the bottom, pieces of paper. He thumbed through the stack to make sure none of them were used, fortunately finding them all blank.
He closed that drawer and moved to the one under it. Within were various pieces of paper that Taptap could spot ink on. On top sat a handful of crumbled balls, decorating loose sheets of paper and paperclipped manilla folders thrown in haphazardly. Taptap leaned back against the chair and let out a loud groan.
Taptap returned to the main hideout a few hours later with little knowledge gained. Through the mess, he had managed to find the file he was looking for; though when he found and read through it, Underdog was scarcely mentioned. Instead, Riff had meticulously written details about the item they were planning to steal, where it was located, its value and the ways they had tried to steal it. Next to that, finally, he mentioned Underdog... but only to note how he had foiled the scheme.
Taptap first cursed Riff for being so stupid not to include this very powerful blackmail information—then cursed Dyna for being so right.
No one was in the dining room as he entered. Mooch was still in the kitchen, stirring the pot he had been working on earlier. Similar joyous and angry noises came from the living room—Spinny must be playing Bash Brothers again. Taptap's ears flattened to his head, walking forward to join Mooch in the kitchen.
"Hey," Mooch called as he passed behind him. "Where you been?"
Taptap grabbed a glass out of the cupboard. "Mm, don't worry about it," he replied. Mooch chuckled and didn't push the matter. Taptap moved to the faucet, filling up his glass halfway. "What are you making?"
"Mooch Soup!" the bear said cheerfully.
Taptap hummed, leaning back against the counter and starting to drink. Mooch always made some sort of soup at the end of each week, consisting almost entirely of the week's leftovers. Taptap never complained; it was a meal he didn't have to cook.
His drinking slowed as he recalled Mooch had been on the mission to steal the Whistler's Father painting. He removed the glass from his lips and turned to the bear again, "You wouldn't happen to know who Underdog truly was, would you?"
Mooch did not even bother to look at him. "No, and you've been going around asking everyone except the person you need to."
Taptap stood up. "I've already asked Riff—"
Mooch snorted, "Not Riff, no, Riff's useless for stuff like that. You gotta ask Sandy."
Taptap tilted his head, "Sandy?" Taptap loved all of his fellow mobsters very dearly—but Sandy, he knew (or at least, he thought) had little mind for anything but violence and breaking into safes.
Mooch nodded, "She's a safecracker, but she's also pretty good at cracking other things," he said. "Put her in front of a computer, give 'er half an hour, she'll find every damn detail about anything you want 'er to."
Taptap blinked, surprised to hear this. "Really? Do you know where I can find her?" he asked, sincerely interested. He stepped closer to Mooch, lowering his voice, "She's not still losing to Spinny, is she?"
Mooch let out a loud laugh. "God, I hope not!" he exclaimed, wiping a tear away from his eye. "Check the bar."
"Gotcha," Taptap replied. He quickly finished his drink, set it in the sink, and then moved to pat Mooch's arm. "I'll get that later. Thanks, mate."
Mooch nodded and made the appropriate sound. Taptap hurried away, trying not to get in the way of the TV screen as Nails battled Spinny again. He entered the bar and rubbed his neck—the room was much darker and more crowded than the rest of the house. Taptap had never liked it. Regardless, Sandy sat on a barstool nursing a beer with her ears turned backward to hear the sound of Nails's outage. Of course, she also heard Taptap enter.
She turned her head and smiled cruelly, as she usually did. "Heyyyy, you! Good time last night, ehhh? Riff run you dry?"
Taptap flushed a deep pink, gritting his teeth. "Ugh, I don't ask about what Dyna does to you."
Sandy giggled, kicking her feet and lashing her tail. She threw back her head and chugged the rest of her beer bottle, then turned around in her seat to face Taptap properly. "Whadda you want, ya old prude?"
Taptap put his hand on his hip. "I need your help."
Sandy's mouth became wider, pricking up the corners of her eyes. "Oh?"
"Yeah," Taptap continued, "You're my last hope. I need to find out who Underdog is."
Sandy let out one huff, lidding her eyes halfway. "Yeah, you and everyone else, buddy."
Taptap crossed his arms. "C'mon. Please?"
Sandy's head tilted each way, her gaze going with it. Eventually, her eyes landed on the collection of expensive bottles behind the bar. "Mmmm, mmmayyybeee..."
Taptap followed her gaze, his shoulders slumping in disappointment as he realized what she wanted. The shelves behind the bar were almost entirely composed of Riff's vast assortment of alcohol. Taptap knew little about any of them. Still, he brought his hands up in defeat. "Fine. One."
Sandy giggled again, her eyes closing. "Alright!" she hopped off the barstool and put a hand on her hip, tail curling behind her. "Okay, bud, follow me to my lair!" She excited the bar with a skip in her step. Taptap rolled his eyes and followed, regardless.
Sandy led Taptap down the stairs and into her and Dyna's bedroom. She locked the door and threw herself into a rolling chair, pulling it into a desk where a computer screen sat. Taptap looked around to find a seat for himself. There was a nice chair on the other side of the small room, but it was covered in clothes—at the top, he spotted a pair of tan panties. Taptap flushed and averted his gaze, instead stepping away to sit on the foot of their bed.
"Alright!" Sandy exclaimed. She twirled around in her chair to face Taptap. "You wanna find out who Underdog is, huh?"
"Very much so," Taptap sighed. "I've been asking if anybody knows from when you broke into his apartment, but I've not gained anything."
Sandy's eyes became wider than they usually were. "Oh, yeah," she stated, "No, nothing on that front. I searched for leases at that place for weeks after that plot—nothing, nowhere."
Taptap rested an elbow on his knee, holding his head up. "So I figured."
"Polly and Underdog are so secretive!" Sandy exclaimed, "I haven't been able to find anything before, pal."
Taptap straightened up, motioning out with his hands. "It's been a few years since that robbery, though," he told her, "Surely something's surfaced since then?"
Sandy hummed, loud and long, and turned back to her computer. "I'll try!" she concluded with a solid nod. "I think Polly's following has picked up recently, maybe one of the weirdos did something..." she was muttering to herself. She eventually trailed off and blinked her giant, green eyes at the dog. "Where should I start?"
Taptap stared at her for a moment before his brows furrowed. His hands went to his knees and he stood up, padding over to her. "I don't know—you're the expert here." He grabbed onto the back of her chair with one hand, watching over her.
"And don't you forget it!" she bragged. She opened her eyes again and moved to type, "Let's start with his name, huh?"
She typed the word into the search bar, and an extensive collection of news articles quickly appeared. Taptap stepped behind her, crossing his arms on the back of the chair. He was wholly disinterested in what the hero had done recently, only skimming over the articles; most were either from WTTV, Sweet Polly's station, or were copied from WTTV. About halfway down the page, however, was something different.
Sandy read out, "The Underdog Forum! That sounds like fun."
"I doubt it's for—" Taptap started to say, but was quickly cut off as the page loaded in. It was colored red and blue, plastered with stars, and had a picture of Underdog's face in the sidebar. He didn't say anything, burying his nose in his crossed arms. Regardless, Sandy laughed. She scrolled down a little to find that the photo of his face was captioned, The Official Forum for Underdog!
Sandy rolled her eyes and kept reading. The other words were too small for Taptap to read from the distance. Sandy read for him, "It says Under actually uses this place. Maybe we can find him."
Taptap perked up. "That would be something."
Sandy scrolled back to the top and clicked on the first post, scrolling down through the comments until something caught her attention. "Aha!" she exclaimed, "Right there: TheRealUnderdog. Let's check that out."
She clicked on the profile. Taptap rounded her chair again so he could lean in and view the details: Birthday: Sept. 25; Location: Biggers City, NY, USA; Posts: 1,964; Followers: 131. His profile picture was dark, featuring him with mussed-up hair and red-tinted eyes, making a peace sign above his head.
"He looks high," Sandy said thoughtfully.
"He does..." Taptap replied, trying to identify the features of his face. But before he could internalize it, Sandy scrolled down, finding a box that listed his email address. She copied it and opened a new tab, pasting it into the search bar. Two results came up: his forum profile and a website with a few dozen dot-whatevers.
Sandy turned up to him. "Have your phone?" Taptap nodded, pulling it out of his back pocket. Sandy struck her arm out, pointing back to her bed. "Try'n find that apartment. I'll look through this stuff."
Taptap nodded, typing while he padded away—Wallace Apartment leases. As the results appeared, he felt the anguish of this search hit him. Two weights grew on his shoulders as he scrolled down. He had no idea who Underdog was, and it seemed no one else did either—and still, no matter how careful Taptap had been, Underdog had discovered who he was. He almost didn't understand how; the last time he had been on a forum was in high school, back in West Virginia. The last thing his first name was attached to was an online college... and he doubted that Underdog was looking through yearbooks trying to find him.
"So," Sandy called out, "Why do ya want to find out who Underdog is so bad, huh?" Taptap started to reply, but Sandy faced him briefly and raised her hand. "And don't say you're planning another robbery. You know as well as I do you can't bear to do that again."
Taptap snorted, laughing lightly. "I can't stand going to a psych ward again," he corrected, "I'm up for robbing a bank as Underdog." They giggled together for a moment, but the crushing weight of it all fell upon him again as the silence returned. He shut his phone off and placed it against his chest. He saw Sandy glance at him through the corner of her eye.
Of the people within the Gang, Taptap could consider Sandy one of his closer friends. Not close enough to tell all of his secrets to, but in the mob life, one never did. Still, the impact of what happened was crushing him, and Sandy had no power to remove him from the Gang. She was usually a good ear, good at keeping secrets, and even better at torturing people when needed. The warm pink walls of her room and her playfully twisting tail almost made Taptap feel secure.
He sighed, rubbing a hand up his face. "Don't tell Riff."
Sandy paused, her tail stopping its movement. It picked up a moment later, "Got it, bud."
Taptap nodded. "Right..." he placed his phone beside him as he tried to find the words. He glanced over to Sandy, but then turned to gaze at the pattern in the carpet. He gripped tightly onto the quilt, occasionally taking in a gasp of air, only to snap his jaw shut. He tried again but instead fidgeted with one of his cufflinks. Sandy noticed and almost turned around to coax it out of him.
Taptap beat her, blurting out, "That night we stole the paintings and that necklace, I saw something in the woods—I went out for a drive, and Underdog found me. He—" he took in a sharp breath, "He said he knew who I was."
"Oh," Sandy replied. "That's no good." Taptap shook his head and crossed his arms. He opened his mouth to speak again but couldn't find the words he wanted to say. Luckily, he didn't have to. Sandy called out with a slight laugh, "Hey, c'mere, look at this. You're never gonna believe it."
Taptap faced her. He nodded and took a deep breath, standing up and strolling over. He wiped an eye with one of his hands and asked, "What is it?"
"It's a criminal listing," Sandy replied.
Taptap's eyes went wide at that. "For here?" he asked. He could recall a few times Underdog had been arrested—he was once the cause of one.
Sandy shook her head. "West Virginia, somewhere."
Taptap gripped his chest, feeling his heart rate spike.
Sandy skimmed over it, and Taptap was content to let her. "Lots of legal jargon... September 25th... It says his name is... Alexander Ruby."
Taptap let out a sigh of relief, his eyes closing as the weight lifted off of him. "What was he in for?" he asked.
Sandy started to type, searching for the name and the date of his arrest. One article came up, also from a West Virginian town. "If memory serves..." Sandy started as the article loaded, "He was arrested in West Virginia not long after his fight with that space cat, three or four years ago. I bet most places were still focused on that."
Finally, the website loaded, but the text was too small and light for Taptap to read. He nudged Sandy gently with his elbow. Sandy cleared her throat, picking up halfway through, "...Alexander Ruby, known professionally as Underdog, was called to the men's maximum security prison here by an unknown person. After he had rounded up the runaway convicts—" her voice picked up in pitch as she read ahead, "—one was found to have been beaten to death, according to an autopsy. Ruby was blamed for the death and spent the night in custody but was ultimately not convicted!"
"Oh my God," Taptap chuckled. "I didn't know Underdog killed people."
Sandy blew a raspberry, "Uh, yeah, he sure does have the power for it."
"I mean, morally!" Taptap replied, "He's all high and mighty about helping people and whatnot, and..." he trailed off as Sandy continued strolling the page. Tucked away in the corner was Underdog's mugshot. His eyes were tired, with black circles beneath them, and his muzzle was in a tight frown. A trail of blood from his nose was smudged. His eyebrows were still furrowed. And the way he held the placard—Taptap shivered—one could still see the blood on his knuckles.
Sandy noticed that, as well. "Oh my god!" she cried joyously, "He totally killed that guy!" She tried to scroll more, but Taptap grabbed her shoulder to stop her. Sandy cast a glance up, making a mrrp? of confusion, but stayed still.
Taptap leaned in closer to the photo. This Underdog had less makeup on than the Underdog in Biggers usually did. His cheeks were smudged with black. The freckle on his cheek that was normally star-shaped was faded entirely, leaving behind normal, circular ones.
Junior had freckles.
Taptap's eyes scoured the photo as he took in every little detail; he could almost track all of them back to the memory of his brother. He felt his heart start to pound in his ears, his grip tightening on Sandy's shoulder.
"Dude," Sandy murmured. She chuckled a little as she said it, but her face was contorted, her eyebrows tilted downward, and her teeth half-bared. "Are you okay?"
"Wh-who," Taptap started, "Who was it? Who died?"
Sandy glanced through the article again. "They just give his last name, say it's what he went by," she said. "Locke."
Taptap saw red, feeling the bile rise in his throat. "O-oh my God—" he stammered, voice nearly in a whisper. That's Junior!
Sandy reached up to the hand on her shoulder, holding his wrist firmly. "Taptap, buddy, you okay?"
Taptap felt his breathing become uneven while the edges of his vision became black. He pulled away from Sandy and brought his clammy hands to his head. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed. Sandy whirled around in her chair. "I-I have to tell Riff, I—"
So many thoughts were swirling around in his head, Taptap could hardly form anything coherent. He almost heard his voice speaking, but he had no idea what the words were. His head felt light, but his feet felt rooted to the ground. His vision became blurry as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Taptap!" Sandy tried again, standing up from her chair.
Taptap didn't hear. Still breathing heavily, he gasped out again, "Oh my God, I have to tell Riff—"
"Will!" Sandy finally yowled, slamming her hands on Taptap's biceps.
The name snapped him out of the daze. He sucked in a sharp breath and stared, wide-eyed, at Sandy. His breathing steadied as he stared at her, though his heart still pounded as hard as it could against his ribs.
He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry," he gasped.
"S'alright, pal!" she exclaimed, pulling his hands down. "Calm down, alright? Underdog's not gonna kill you—Riff'll make sure he never—"
"That's not it," Taptap cut her off. Her ears pricked, though she was still tense. "It's—" he ventured, but stopped. He took a deep breath in and out, running a hand through his now-greasy hair. He thumped his free hand on his chest. "I need you to look me up."
Sandy narrowed her eyes, her eyebrows finally becoming upright again. "What? Why?"
"I just—" he batted his hands around his person, becoming more flustered. "I need to make sure he's the only—please."
Sandy blinked up at him. She sank slowly back into her chair, but did not remove her eyes from him. Taptap's hands finally found a place on his hips, still breathing hastily. Sandy glanced between his hands and his face, then slowly turned in her chair, returning to the computer screen. "Okay," she said.
"William Raft, William Clark," Taptap listed, letting out a breath, "Anything."
Sandy nodded and typed in his current name, scrolling quickly through the results. Taptap leaned in close, huffing. Sandy's tail wapped his thigh. Taptap nodded quickly and backed off.
"Nothing that you don't have to pay for," she concluded. Taptap let out a squeak. She turned to face him briefly, "It's your records. Nothing secret."
Taptap let out a staggered sigh, untensing his shoulders. "Okay."
Sandy clicked on the next page. "Ah, look at that!" she exclaimed, opening a page. The site loaded quickly and displayed his name at the top. Sandy muttered as she read, then turned up to face him. "This place thinks you're the only Will Raft in America!"
Taptap adjusted his cufflinks anxiously. "Th-that's... great."
Sandy closed the page and went back to scrolling. She shook her head gently. "Looks like it's only your rap sheets, babe," she concluded. Taptap let out half a sigh of relief before Sandy spoke again. She had leaned her elbow onto the arm of the chair and rested her head in her hand. "Well," she said, the smug cruelty returning to her voice. "There's your account on sexypicturesofrocks-dot-com—"
"AH, don't look at that!" Taptap exclaimed, lurching forward with his arms outstretched. Sandy snickered and closed the search tab, swiveling around to face him. She smirked at Taptap, his face slowly becoming redder in embarrassment. "You're mean," Taptap concluded somberly.
Sandy shrugged one shoulder, a smile returning to her face. She shooed him to her bed again as she turned back toward the screen. Suddenly feeling exhausted, Taptap did as he was told. He sighed as he sat, hanging his head in his hands.
Underdog was right.
Taptap hated that those words even crossed his mind.
"This place is a goldmine!" Sandy suddenly exclaimed.
Taptap crossed his arms on his knees, turning to look. He could see the red glow of his forum across her screen again. "Is there any way to contact him?" he asked.
Sandy's screen turned white and she typed a little, once again only skimming through what appeared. "Well," she reported, "There's the email on his forum account and the forum account itself." Taptap sighed and nodded, trying to think about what to do about this revelation. Sandy continued, "I could see if he's got any leaks on the.. other... web—" but then she rolled her eyes, "But who has the time? And we've got enough problems without hitmen coming to our door."
Taptap stared blankly at her wall. It was a deep, almost dusty sort of rose, half-white with wainscotting. "Well..." Taptap muttered. Underdog had a fury in his eyes so palpable when he was beating up criminals, combined with the conviction he had escaped...
Sandy hummed, seeming to follow his train of thought. Suddenly, she made another noise and swirled around hard, "You can sing that stupid song!"
One of Taptap's brows furrowed. He sat up, out of his hands, to stare at her quizzically. "What?"
"The one Sweet Polly always sings! He always comes for that."
Taptap puckered his lips to one side. "...I'm not doing that," he murmured.
Sandy rolled her eyes and turned back to the forum. She clicked around for a few moments, leaving Taptap to dwell in his thoughts. What would he tell Riff? He didn't know the answer. He wasn't sure he could.
Sandy piped up again, waving Taptap over with her hand. "Even in this forum, he's being so guarded. In this one, he's talking about how he knitted his cape; and in this one, he wrote, just... so many words about some replica shoes."
Taptap stood back up, hands firmly on his hips. He hummed.
Sandy chuckled, then circled a finger around her screen. Taptap did not move in to see. "In this one, he's begging for eyeliner recommendations."
Taptap hummed again, crossing his arms. He stepped away, moving to pace behind her. "Maybe I should give him Riff's."
Sandy snorted. When she clicked another one, her eyes went wide, and her ears pricked. Taptap was near the door as she fixed him with another glare. "You could always commit a crime!"
Taptap blinked, straightening up. "I could. You're right," he nodded to himself, placing one finger against his lips. He would commit a robbery, the poor sap he was robbing would call for Underdog, and the two of them could duke it out. "That's a great idea," he concluded. He padded up to Sandy and patted her shoulder. "Thank you so much for your help."
"M-hm!" Sandy chirped. "I want that Sunbeam Bourbon! Dyna will love it."
Taptap made a noise between a groan and a sigh. "Right, right, it's yours. I'll…" he rushed over to the door, pointing up with one hand. "I'm going to my room, and the next time you see me, I'll be as carefree as a canary!" he exclaimed, rapidly opening her door and leaving.
He wrung his hands together as he crossed the hallway, laughing maliciously to himself as he played the scene in his head. Underdog would get what was coming to him.