The trees in the woods had started to shed their leaves. Cold breezes scattered them across the mossy roof of the Raft Gang hideout, but despite the autumn chill, the home inside had never been brighter or warmer. Even better, Taptap had finally gotten out of his depressed rut, causing the warmth—at least, that's what Riff thought.
Taptap had been going out on lone drives ever since Riff had first suggested it, and though Riff missed his car, he had undoubtedly missed the upbeat version of Taptap much more. At the very least, Taptap was doing his sorrowful act somewhere else, occasionally coming home with tear-streaks on his face. Still, he smiled when Riff welcomed him back.
That evening, Taptap had returned holding two things: a folder that was a mess of colors, and a large paper bag.
Riff padded up to him, head tilted slightly. "Hi, doll," he greeted, reaching up to kiss his cheek and wipe away some of the dampness with his thumb. "What the hell is that."
Taptap's eyes widened slightly as he pulled the folder close to his chest. Nearer to it now, Riff could make out a horse's head; its glittery, rainbow mane flying everywhere.
"It's a folder," Taptap replied calmly despite his demeanor. He pulled up his other arm, balancing the bag on one finger in front of Riff. "And this is dinner."
Riff's ears pinned and he stepped back, but he grabbed the massive bag. He heard a slight scuffle and turned to face the living room doorway. Sandy and Spinny were clinging onto the frame, smiling with their teeth and drooling like starved wolves. Riff rolled his eyes and turned back to Taptap, but found him already starting to move toward the stairwell.
"I mean, what's in the folder?" Riff asked.
Taptap started to unbutton his shirt, holding the folder tightly under his arm. "Records!" he answered.
Riff blinked, assuming he meant some court document. "Why would you put—! Okay..." he tried to call after him, but the mongrel had already descended the stairs. Riff sighed, turning back around to the pairs of eyes burning into his back. He whistled. "Here, dogs!"
Both their expressions fell.
Riff snickered to himself and put the bag on the dining room table. As he started to unpack it, his mind drifted back to Taptap. What sort of records did he have? Did he get arrested? What lunatic kind of cop would put court documents in such a monstrosity of art?
He didn't have time to ask; Taptap only reappeared after everyone had begun to dig in. Riff felt a seed of anxiety sprout in his stomach. It grew slightly bigger when he went to bed and couldn't see the folder.
The next day he was almost able to ignore it. That morning, Mooch had called him from making coffee to watch a somewhat interesting newscast, but Riff saw nothing of note. Later, Smitty had mentioned adding a woodworking shop for Nails to the forge he was building, and Riff was figuring out the schematics of the project. Mooch had reheated a big bowl of leftover soup for lunch and Riff took a break to eat it, then quickly returned to taking notes at the table.
At some point in his doodling, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to find his husband. Riff smiled, "Look at you, tap-tapping around."
Taptap chuckled lightly and said, "I'm going out."
"Okay," Riff answered as he stepped away. "Take the caddy, I'll need the truck later," he called out.
"I would not be caught dead in that truck," Taptap replied, grabbing his keys.
Riff snickered to himself. "Noted."
Taptap slammed the door shut. Ears still risen, Riff heard someone hum beside him. He looked up to find Spinny, his eyes narrowed and his mouth a tight line, staring at the door. Mooch followed his gaze, a single brow furrowed. Uninvolved, Sandy leaned against the fridge and drank a bottle of soda.
Riff slammed his notebook shut, returning Spinny's expression. "What?" he demanded, standing up.
"Nothing, nothing..." Spinny replied, glancing away. He wiped his hands off on a dish towel. "I just think it's... weird how often Taps has been going out."
Riff crossed his arms, barely standing in the kitchen. "I'm just glad he's leaving the house," he replied, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Okay, okay..." Spinny answered, glaring at him. "What about how he was so secretive last night, hm? Wasn't that weird?"
Riff clutched his biceps as he was reminded. He typically didn't care about the private lives of his subordinates—it was when it affected the Gang did it become an issue. On the other hand, he had married Taptap. Taptap's private life and his own were too interlaced to keep secrets.
Mooch clutched his hands together, looking down at Riff as kindly as he could. "Is everything alright with you and Taptap?" he asked softly, "You know, in bed or whatnot?"
Sandy choked on her beverage.
Riff scowled up at him. "...you're asking if he's cheating on me," he challenged flatly.
Mooch shrunk a little under the intensity of his stare, scratching the back of his neck and turning away.
Spinny rolled his eyes. "Well, if the shoe fits."
Sandy let out a loud cough. The three men turned to look at her. She soon started to clear her throat, wiping her mouth off on her arm. Finally, she looked back up. Her eyes widened as she saw them all staring at her.
Spinny smirked. "Cat got your tongue?"
Mooch shoved him so hard that he almost fell over, only catching himself on the counter. Sandy's face immediately shifted into a smile, and she moved to point and laugh at the terrier. Spinny stuck his tongue out at her, slowly managing to stand up straight.
Riff spoke as soon as he got his feet in order. "If he was cheating, what was that folder for, huh? Explain that one, genius."
To that, Spinny shrugged. "I don't know—money? Maybe he's being paid for it."
"He is pretty enough," Mooch added, nodding along.
Riff frowned up at him. His brown fur became a few shades darker.
"It's all relative," Sandy commented calmly, pushing the bottle cap into her pocket.
Spinny turned back to look at her. "You act like you know something."
Sandy flicked her ear. She stepped away from the fridge to chuck the bottle into the trash bin. "You act like you know something."
"Taptap is not cheating on me!" Riff called back to her, his ears pressing close to his head.
"You can't be sure of that!" Spinny replied cheekily.
Riff tapped his foot on the ground, wondering if he was too far away to punch Spinny.
"There is one way to figure it out," Mooch said before the silence could become too tense. He pointed toward the door with his thumb. "He just left. You could follow him and see where he goes."
Riff hummed, raising a thoughtful finger to his lips.
"Or you could talk about it," Sandy added quickly, "No need to... brood."
Riff sighed, knowing Sandy was right.
He should just talk to Taptap, like an adult.
...
But finding out for himself would be much more fun.
He smiled. "I like Mooch's idea more. Spinny's coming with me," he looked up at the bear. "Are you coming?"
Mooch slumped his shoulders. "I don't do stealth," he frowned.
Riff shrugged, "Alright." He snapped his fingers and pointed, beckoning the cat closer. "Sandy can come, then."
Sandy rolled her eyes, but said nothing to disagree.
"Right," Riff muttered, finally unfolding his arms. "Let me grab my coat."
"Do we need our guns?" Sandy asked.
Riff had turned away, walking to the coat rack beside the door. He shrugged it on, then ran his finger over the edge of a cigarette box. "We can't be too careful," he replied. He narrowed his eyes at Spinny, "Just don't shoot my husband."
Spinny's big ears fell back. "Noted."
"We should roll the windows down, so you two pups can sniff 'im out!"
Riff rolled his eyes, adjusting his seatbelt to stop it from rubbing against his neck. Outside were gray-and-brown skyscrapers and monochrome cars, though everything became a blur as Spinny drove without regard for road laws.
"It's all exhaust out there to me," he replied, looking at Sandy through the rear-view mirror. The cat was lying across the back seats, looking at her phone. Her tail was lolling back and forth. Riff swallowed back a scoff and turned to Spinny. He continued, "I don't know, you're a car guy," he chuckled, "Can ya sniff out the make and model, Spinny Wheels?"
One of Spinny's ears fell back. "It's a fourth-generation black Eldoradoe with RR keyed into the side of it. I think I'll know it when I see it."
Riff's own ear fell back, though his mouth itched to smile. "Are you making fun of my car?"
"I'm making fun of you for keying your initials into it," Spinny answered, driving through an intersection as oncoming cars honked at him. Sandy snickered, but Riff just rolled his eyes and settled back into his seat. After a moment of relative silence, Spinny asked, "If you were a Taptap, where would you be?"
Riff sighed heavily and turned to stare out the window again. "No idea. Depends what I was doin', I guess."
"He's at The Posnet," Sandy chimed in.
Riff felt a bead of bile rise in his throat. He sat up and turned around in the seat to stare at her, his eyes wide. "How do you know that?"
Sandy turned her phone toward him; on the screen was a map and a pulsing blue dot.
Riff gulped, "Taptap shares his location with you?" he asked, self-consciously rubbing the pocket his phone was in.
"He does when he's out," Sandy answered, turning it back toward herself.
Spinny blew a raspberry. Riff growled at him. Spinny rolled his eyes to reply. Riff huffed.
"Lay it on me," he called back to Sandy.
Sandy gave him the street names, and Spinny pressed the gas pedal harder. After burning enough gas to kill several canaries, Spinny drove slowly along a sidewalk, looking for a place to park. He eventually parked beside the road, between two other cars; he made his door even with the entrance to a large alleyway. It was hidden between two tall buildings and shrouded in shadow despite the time.
Spinny gave his boss a slight nod, turning off the engine. Riff snapped at Sandy and opened his door. Within a few moments, the small group was out of the car and padding down the alley.
"Posnet, huh?" Riff asked, "Isn't that a bistro or somethin'?"
"Or somethin'," Sandy answered, "I think it's more of a diner."
"Looks fancy," Spinny added, pointing to the far end of the passageway. A wooden lattice fence was shielding it from the alley, golden sunlight peeking through its holes. Riff could just make out tendrils of ivy, or some other such plant, trailing within them. Spinny continued, "Seems like his date's got money."
"He is not on a date," Riff said flatly, his ears falling back.
"Everything there is under twenty bucks!" Sandy chirped, plastering a large smile on her face.
Spinny rolled his eyes, adjusted his tie, and dug around his pocket. He pulled out and lit a cigarette. He turned away and continued padding forward. "Well, we'll just have to find out, won't we?"
Riff slouched, moving quickly to seem like he was leading the pack—but really, it was to get those extra few steps away from Spinny. The three of them strode down the alley in a straight line, softening their footsteps as they approached the neighboring building. Soon after, they reached the fence. Before breaking the boundary, Riff turned back to his cohorts and raised a finger to his lips. Both of them nodded back, determined glints shining in their eyes.
Riff took a deep breath in and out, then strode forward. He pricked his ears to the sounds of people talking, trying to pick out his husband. After a few moments of that, he finally raised his head and peeked through the lattice.
There were several tables on the patio with wrought iron bases and glass tops. About half were full, some with garbage still atop them, and some completely empty and clean. Riff skimmed through the crowd, across humans and animals alike, searching for any sign of Taptap. The poor mutt already had about a hundred lookalikes in the city; one of them was probably in the restaurant as well.
All of a sudden, Riff's ears pricked—he heard a laugh. Taptap's laugh.
His eyes went to where his ears led him and, sure enough, he saw Taptap: his beautiful, velvety ears draped over the shoulders of a freshly-ironed dress shirt; the diamond and gold in his wedding ring sparkled as he covered his smile; somehow his meticulously-combed hair had become disheveled.
Riff looked across the table to find whoever was so funny.
Every hair on his pelt stood on end.
He turned to his companions and, in a blur, reached out for the closest one, managing to grab Sandy. He pulled her by the collar of her suit until their cheeks brushed before pointing, biting his tongue. Sandy straightened up and narrowed her eyes.
Riff clutched even tighter onto her top, feeling his palms become sweaty. Taptap was sitting with Underdog—Hell was real, and Riff was living in it.
His mind raced, wondering what business, exactly, Taptap had with Underdog. Was Taptap giving him Gang secrets? Was he switching sides? Was he leaving him?
Sandy only hummed.
Riff's grip on her collar tightened in frustration.
Spinny had since bundled himself closer and stared with just as much shock. Except he didn't look upset; instead, both his hands covered his beaming smile, and he glanced at Riff every few seconds.
Riff released his grip on Sandy's suit. He swallowed back the snarl begging to escape from his throat, but bared his teeth. He pulled up one of his sleeves dramatically and took one step closer. Spinny took a step back—then turned on his heel and bolted in the other direction. Riff chased him. A few buildings away, Spinny tripped on a crack in the concrete. He yipped as he fell.
Neither of the men saw, but Sandy watched Underdog's ear twitch. She narrowed her eyes and carefully trailed back to the car.
Riff was punching Spinny into the pavement.
"Sorry for beating the hell out of you," Riff muttered softly. They had driven quickly back to the hideout, and Riff had exited the car almost as soon as it had parked.
"No you aren't," Spinny answered from an open window, his mouth still bleeding.
"No, I'm not," Riff replied with a shrug, hurrying toward the door. He quickly went down the short elevator, descended the stairs and threw the door open. He left it open—to make it easier for the people behind him or because he was in such a frenzy, Riff couldn't tell.
He raised his hands to his head, dragging his hands through his cheek fur and hair. Riff saw Mooch sit up as he passed through the living room, but he raised a finger and padded through to the bar. He heard the sound of glasses clinking and searched around to find the source of it.
Nails was crouched down behind the bar. They were stacking glasses of varying sizes into the bottom of the liquor cabinet. Riff knocked on the bartop. They jumped, striking one of the glasses. They rushed to keep it from falling, then looked up, still holding it.
"Nails," Riff greeted.
"Yes?" Nails replied, pushing up their glasses.
"Do me a favor," Riff continued, rubbing his temple. "Make me a drink."
Nails put one hand on the ground to help them stand, still holding onto the glass. "What do you want?"
Riff made a circle with his hand, his mind going blank. "...I don't care," he finally managed to say, "Something with whiskey in it."
Nails nodded and turned to the shelf of bottles. Meanwhile, Riff drummed his fingers against the bar and tapped his foot. He really did have to talk to Taptap. But—he didn't know how he could even bring it up. His thoughts wandered, "Hi Taps, what the HELL are you doing talking to my WORST ENEMY?" but Riff shook his head as they played out. He couldn't speak to Taptap like that.
By then, Nails had slid the glass toward him. It was a collins glass filled to the brim with a yellowy liquid that Riff didn't care to identify. He quickly grabbed it, threw his head back, and chugged the whole thing. He cleared his throat as he set the now-empty glass back down, leaning against the pool table behind him. Nails blinked at him, silent with awe.
After a moment, Riff heard footsteps nearing him. He turned slightly to see Mooch and Sandy. Mooch's brows were furrowed as he came in, immediately coming over to Riff to pat him on the shoulder. Sandy's eyes were big and her mouth was small.
Mooch's mouth twitched for a while before he finally managed to open it and ask, "So, Spinny was right?"
Riff rolled his eyes. "No," he replied. He tore his gaze from Mooch's face, turning to stare at his feet. He ran a hand up his face and through his hair as he spoke. "I think it's worse. He was talking to Underdog."
"What?" Mooch sputtered. His grip jolted on Riff's shoulder, shaking him.
Near the ground, Riff watched Sandy's tail curl. He felt his face scrunch up as a new volt of anger pulsed through him. He shrugged off Mooch's hand and stepped closer, prodding an accusatory finger into her chest. "You knew!"
Sandy flicked an ear. "Taptap was going all around a few weeks ago asking about Underdog. S'not my fault you were too dense to notice."
Riff blinked. He then punched his hands down his sides as he realized she was right. He swore under his breath at himself, then turned back up to her. "Do you know what he's doing?"
Sandy flicked her tail, hardly moving a muscle on her face to indicate an answer either way.
The anger finally bested Riff, and a growl slowly rose from his throat. He dug around in his suit momentarily and pulled out his gun. He didn't point it at Sandy but kept it in his hand. "As your boss, I demand you tell me what you know!" he rumbled.
Sandy's eyes flitted to Riff's gun before returning to his face. She quickly started to smile, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. "You know I'm a better shot than you are~"
Riff clenched the grip even tighter. Then he sighed, loosening his hold and slumping his shoulders. "You are," he admitted.
Sandy straightened up, giggling.
Riff sighed again, putting his gun back and rubbing the bridge of his snout. Suddenly his eyes snapped back to Sandy. "Can you—he's not... with Underdog?"
Sandy snorted. "The only people in the world attracted to Underdog are you and that pretty little reporter," she sneered.
Riff flushed. Behind him, he heard Nails laughing. He snapped his head around to glare at them. The deer jumped, raising their hands and freezing. Riff rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, calling Mooch closer with a wave of his hand.
"What do I do?" he asked Sandy.
"Talk to your husband," Sandy replied bluntly, pinning her ears.
"I know," Riff muttered softly. "I don't know how."
Mooch hummed. After a moment, he pointed upward. "We could have an intervention!" he exclaimed.
Sandy narrowed her eyes. "We?"
Mooch gave Riff a shove. "Riff's gotten us involved this far."
"Hey, Taptap already asked us all about Underdog," Riff replied with a nod. He paused for a moment, then took in a deep breath. "And... if he's giving our secrets to Underdog, that's a problem for all of us."
Riff watched Sandy narrow her eyes again, clearly skeptical. Her tail twirled in intricate loops as she thought.
Riff glanced away, trying to keep his mind from racing again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sandy's tail do another flip. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he looked back up at her and asked, "You know the most about all this. Can't you come, at least?"
Sandy huffed. "Yeah, okay. But if Taps asks, I didn't say nothin'."
Riff snorted in laughter. "Sure," he said sarcastically, "Of course."
Sandy punched him.
Riff yelped, rapidly grabbing his forearm. "Alright, alright, I said alright!"
The three chattered for a few moments to discuss a plan, before eventually Riff waved the two away and pulled out his phone. Navigating to Taptap's contact, he sent a quick text:
[06:40] We need to talk.
» [06:43] Taptap?: Yes, we do.
When Taptap arrived home that night, he opened the door to find several people sitting at the kitchen table. It was Mooch, Sandy, Spinny and Riff—though the wolf had stood and was padding over to him. Taptap nodded at him and closed the door. He felt the warmth of anxiety flow down from where Riff pressed a hand to his cheek.
"Hi, doll," he greeted, reaching to put his other hand on Taptap's wrist, "So, uh. Talk, right?"
"Right..." Taptap replied, glancing around Riff to stare at the table. He lowered his voice, "With them?"
"It's important," Riff whispered back, nodding. He cleared his throat and spoke normally, "Spinny's here because he thinks you're cheating. You can figure out the other two."
He could; Sandy knew all about what Taptap had been doing, and Mooch was Riff's closest confidant. He bit the side of his tongue as he realized what was happening.
Still, Taptap gulped and let Riff guide him toward the table. He pulled a chair out from the corner and moved his hand to Taptap's shoulder, pushing him into it. Taptap shuffled into place as Riff let him go. He clasped his hands and put them on the table, rubbing one of his knuckles.
Riff padded behind him, sitting on the next chair and turning slightly to face Taptap. "So..." he muttered, glancing away. He stuck out the tip of his tongue as he bit it, then fixed Taptap with a stony expression. "...I'm just gonna cut to the chase. I know you've been speaking to Underdog."
"Ah," Taptap answered as soon as the words had left his mouth. He felt his face quickly heat up. He glanced around the table.
On his other side, Mooch looked just as blank as he always did. Across from him, Sandy stared at Riff with buggy eyes, though her gaze turned to him as she noticed him staring. She tilted her head and smiled awkwardly. Taptap slumped his shoulders and frowned back. Spinny sat beside Sandy, leaning on his elbows with his hands steepled in front of his face. His eyes were lidded halfway, and his smug smile was so broad that Taptap could see it despite his hands.
Taptap took a deep breath. He turned to Riff and said firmly, "I'm not sleeping with Underdog." He made sure to turn one ear toward Spinny as he spoke.
"I figured," Riff replied with a nod. He reached out to grab Taptap's arm. One of his ears was turned backward. "But... I do need to know what you are doing," he said, furrowing his brows. "Because if you're sharing our Gang's secrets with him, then that's a problem."
Taptap nodded along with his words.
Riff's eyes then turned to the floor and his grip tightened on Taptap's forearm. "And..." he said quietly, "If you want to leave me—er, our Gang, then I need to know that."
Taptap's heart skipped a beat. He lurched forward, opening his hands to grab Riff's. "I don't want to leave you!" he chuckled awkwardly. The hot stares of the people around him momentarily faded as he stared at Riff, the poor man looking dour and disheveled. Taptap thought his heart might melt.
"No?" Riff asked.
"No," Taptap answered, shaking his head.
He stared at Riff for another moment longer, then dropped his hands and looked slowly around the table again. Mooch stared at him with one brow cocked while Spinny's smug expression shifted into something more akin to confusion. They cast a glance at eachother. Sandy had her eyes narrowed and her ears back.
Taptap swallowed back a sigh. "Alright," he muttered. He took in a breath and sighed it out again, feeling the worry wedge itself in his heart. "I've been speaking to Underdog because we're... related," he said slowly, "We're brothers."
A heavy silence immediately fell over the group.
Riff's grip on Taptap's hands tightened. He was the only person Taptap cared to look at, but he couldn't hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. His eyes were big but his irises small, and his ears were pricked as tall as they could be. The fur on his neck bristled intensely above his shirt collar.
Then, suddenly, a smile split his mouth. In one swift motion, he threw Taptap's hands to the table and pointed at Spinny. "I TOLD YOU!" he yelled. Taptap cringed at both the shout and the force of the mahogany against his knuckles.
Spinny's hands shot up, his shoulders so tense that his muzzle nearly sunk into his neck. "Well, how the hell was I supposed to guess that?!" he shouted back.
"Because they look JUST LIKE eachother; how do you think that scheme was so successful?"
"He looks like Underdog just as much as any other beagle-type mutt does!"
"Are you BLIND?"
Taptap sat properly in his seat, shaking his wrists to reduce pain. He, Mooch and Sandy all watched, their eyes darting back and forth across the table as Riff and Spinny continued to shout at eachother. Taptap quickly felt his head start to spin and his eyes strain. He reached his hands to his ears and ducked his head with a soft grunt.
"Okay, okay, enough, cubs," Mooch said.
Riff and Spinny didn't listen, continuing to toss insults at eachother.
"SHUT UP!" Mooch slammed his fist on the table.
Spinny and Riff both froze, looking like a pair of deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck. Mooch made a deep rumbling noise until they both sank slowly back into their seats. Spinny adjusted his tie, and Riff ran his fingers through his hair, neither looking at eachother.
Another silence fell over the group. Riff quickly broke it by clearing his throat.
"So, um, Taptap... How... uh... how did you find... that... out?" he asked.
Taptap tightened his cufflinks and shut his eyes blissfully as he answered. "Do you remember when I saw that man in the woods?" He didn't look up to see if Riff had nodded, continuing, "It was Underdog. When he caught up with me again, he... laid everything out." Taptap once again felt a pang of sorrow as he remembered his mother.
"So, what's all the stuff you've been bringing home? Letters begging you to become a superhero?" Spinny asked, still scowling.
"No," Taptap answered immediately, drawing out the word. He glared at the terrier with narrowed eyes. "It's... wills and mementos and such."
"Wills?" Sandy's ears pricked.
"What'd all you get?" Spinny looked similarly intrigued.
"Who died?" Mooch asked gruffly.
"You can't just ask who died," Riff scolded.
Taptap tensed. He froze, the edges of the cufflink digging into his fingers. His sudden annoyance was so intense that it almost counteracted the mist in his eyes. "My parents," Taptap spat out.
The big bear's fur rippled and his ears pinned back, but he remained silent. Sandy and Spinny were quiet as well, their mouths in tight lines. Riff turned one ear and hummed, pursing his lips.
Taptap straightened up and took in a deep breath. He turned to face Riff, forcing himself to focus on his nose to pretend he was holding his golden gaze. "I've been with Underdog so often because we've had so much to catch up on. I can certainly stop doing that."
Riff blinked and furrowed one brow. "I mean," he murmured, "I don't want to tell you to stop talking to your brother." He hesitated momentarily, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought. He drew in a breath as he concluded, "You can certainly do it less."
"I certainly can."
"And you don't want to join him... and..." Riff continued, drawing a line on the table with his finger, dragging his claw against its surface. His ears pricked suddenly, "You haven't told him anything about the Gang, have you?"
"Nothing important," Taptap replied, smiling awkwardly.
Riff hummed again, blinking down at the table. "Then..." he drew out the word, pausing again after the noise had finished. He turned his eyes back to Taptap and tilted his head slightly. "...keep that up, and you can do whatever you want."
Taptap blinked, surprised. "Really?" he asked.
"Sure," Riff answered, rising from the table and stepping away from his chair. Taptap turned to continue looking at him. He smirked unevenly, his eyes lidding halfway. "Just tell me next time, alright?"
Taptap stared deeply into his tired, shiny eyes. After a few moments, he scoffed and blushed, unable to help the smile on his own face. He turned his gaze toward his hands. "Alright."
Suddenly, a heavy force came crashing down on Taptap's back. It vibrated through his ribs and knocked the air out of his lungs. Mooch started to laugh behind him. "Now you can tell us all of Underdog's secrets!" he exclaimed.
"Ooh! Yeah!" Sandy chirped. Taptap shrugged Mooch's hand off and looked up at her. She smiled widely, "D'ya ever find out where he lives?"
Taptap's lips turned into a malicious smile. "Oh, I did. Wallace Apartments on Madison Avenue, Apartment 640."
"You got into his APARTMENT?" Riff barked in shock.
"You've gotten into his apartment," Taptap countered.
Instead of replying, one of Riff's ears turned backward.
Mooch was beaming. "What else do ya know?"
Taptap searched his mind, trying to recount all of the catching-up they had done in the past several weeks. He parted his mouth slightly to reply—but every thought became blank. He cleared his throat and tugged on the collar of his shirt to loosen it. "What do you all want to know?"
Spinny crossed his arms. "I wanna know how he got so bulletproof."
"Wizardry."
Riff put a hand on his hip. "You can't just say wizardry."
Taptap extended his arms out, "That's what it is! He got his cape enchanted!"
"What about those pills?" Mooch asked next, his voice higher pitched than usual.
Taptap snorted.
"What?" Mooch continued, "You haven't asked?"
"Oh," Taptap chuckled, "I asked. He didn't tell me. He just said that if he'd done it for any sport, he'd be kicked out."
Someone around the table let out a loud "HA!" of laughter, and the rest of the group quickly followed suit.
"Oh my God..." Mooch breathed, leaning back in his chair and wiping a tear from his eye.
"Let me guess," Riff said with a roll of his eyes, "They were wizardry, too?"
"Aren't most drugs wizardry?" Taptap asked.
Riff's ear rose as he smiled. "Not that kind."
Spinny exclaimed and pointed upward as he thought of another question. "Can we use you to make him stop beating us so senseless?"
"No."
"No?" Spinny whimpered slightly. He grumbled and sunk into his chair. "Well, what's all this good for, then?"
"Do we have to beat him any less?" Riff then asked.
"No," Taptap repeated.
Riff sneered. "Good."
Sandy slammed her elbows on the table, holding her head in one hand and vaguely pointing with the other. "I wanna know if he's in love with that pretty little reporter."
Taptap's scoff quickly turned into a giggle. That was the only confirmation Sandy needed for her cruel grin to turn wicked.
Riff drummed his claws on the table again. Taptap looked up to see him staring at his gold watch through the bottom of his eyes. "Speaking of that pretty little reporter," he said, "We're a bit late for the evening news."
Taptap felt his fur bristle. Sandy, Spinny and Mooch all had similar reactions. Riff loved to watch the news for any new marks, but he liked the evening news in particular—WTTV often recapped the news-worthy events of the day during the time slot, so the Gang had an opportunity to review anything they had missed.
Mooch was the first to stand up from the table. "Let's go check in, boss!" he called, beckoning the other two. Riff gave a slow nod, letting them scurry away as he padded leisurely around Taptap.
Taptap's chair squeaked as he pushed it out.
Riff's ear turned back toward him before the rest of his head did. His widened eyes quickly narrowed back to their normal state. "You're coming?"
"Sure," Taptap replied. He tilted his head slightly as he answered, shoving his fingers into a pocket.
"I didn't think you liked that pretty little reporter," Riff went on, emphasizing the three words.
Taptap cocked an eyebrow. "And you do?"
Riff scoffed. "Right," he laughed lightly. He turned slightly to offer Taptap a hand. Taptap rolled his eyes but grabbed it anyway, letting Riff lead him through the archway toward the living room. The television had already been turned on and put on the proper channel. Riff stared intently at it as soon as he had entered the room, but averted his gaze to sit on an empty couch. He patted the spot beside him to offer a seat to Taptap. He nodded as he sat, immediately crossing his legs. He shivered as Riff ran a hand up his thigh, reaching over to grab the remote simultaneously. He pumped up the volume until it pounded throughout the room.
A red panda was in the middle of the screen at a glass desk, holding a stack of papers and glancing down occasionally to read them. The cityscape behind the panda was dark, and an image of a cheetah with a crown was hung beside him. A placard below him read OJ Skweeze.
"...we've received a press report from King Felis III of Koko Loco about the jewelry stolen from the Midtown Art Museum," he said, "He demands that the person who has stolen it return it to Koko Loco immediately and that the museum return all other Locoine artifacts that they may have in their possession."
Riff's eyes darkened as he smirked, raising a single finger to his mouth.
"They have more?" asked a woman's voice from off-screen.
OJ turned to face her and the camera promptly zoomed out, revealing Polly Purebred sitting next to him. She had similar papers and a similar nameplate on her side of the desk. She had one brow deeply furrowed and the other highly raised.
He nodded to reply, "The museum had just received the rest of the collection before the Queen's Necklace was stolen, and they plan on displaying it regardless." He tapped his papers on the desk and turned down to read, "The museum describes the exhibit as: a bracelet, specter, slippers and dress styled according to the Edwardian era of British history—shortly before Koko Loco gained its independence—and was owned by the first proper Locoine queen. All the items are decorated with gold, silver, iron and gypsum accents."
"And did the King have a statement about the exhibit?" Polly asked.
OJ turned to face her. "I fear I cannot read his statement on our station."
Polly laughed lightly and picked up her papers, turning toward the camera to read her segment.
Riff reached for the remote to turn the volume back down. He quickly stood up before the group, rubbing his hands together. His eyes glowed. "Men, we are going back to that museum."
Sandy raised an imaginary glass at the statement, and Mooch chuckled darkly. Taptap sunk back into the couch cushions and swapped his crossed legs as he listened to Riff explain his plot.
He went on for several minutes, making mentions and taking suggestions for the differences from the prior robbery. He finally concluded, baring his teeth, "...and if we can get that king to pay the right price... well, then everyone'll be happy."
"On it, boss," Mooch loyally replied.
"We leaving now?" Sandy asked.
"As soon as we can," Riff answered, nodding. "I need to unjam my gun. Go get yourselves ready," he ordered.
In unison, the two nodded and moved swiftly out of the living room. Spinny had pulled out his phone and was leaning against the far arm of his couch, paying little attention. As Riff also turned to leave, Taptap stood and followed behind him. Once more, Riff's ear turned back before his body did.
This time his wide eyes did not narrow. "You're coming, Taps?"
"You need someone to appraise it all, don't you?" he replied.
"We do," Riff retorted, drawing out the word. "But they're likely to have extra security this time. Someone might call for Underdog."
Despite himself, Taptap felt something in his chest swell. "I care more for you than I ever will for Underdog."
Riff's white cheeks turned a soft shade of red. He stepped forward slightly and picked up one of Taptap's hands, running his thumb over the back of it. "I know," he said softly, rising to his toes to kiss Taptap's cheek. He then stepped back and nodded toward the stairwell behind him. "Now, let's go loot a museum."
Taptap let himself be tugged. "Let's."