A lot has happened after the Festivus night. Carmelita finally admitted that Sly Cooper was a good guy after all, even though he's on the other side of the law, so she took him back. I also earned her good side as well, and she became a frequent visitor to my apartment. The lease on U-1's apartment was up, so he decided to move back to Chicago with Wayne and Garth, who also had an expired lease on the abandoned subway station. Rammy had to make amends to everyone in the city she offended. If you ask me, that's a lot. She hasn't apologized to me yet, but I'm still standing by. Everyone's parents went back home and left us to it once again. And of course, my protege Teriyaki Yoko is still coming along with her pregnancy.

January (Month 6)

I was in the apartment with Sammy, the coffee-house Lammy. She played me her ad-libbed poetry on that tape I saw last month.
Enter Kramer and Egg-yolk. Kramer went right for the fridge.
"Hey," I said, "What's shakin'?"
"Kramer has volunteered to take photographs for my next album cover," said Egg-yolk.
"Kramer's a photographer?"
"Yeah. You should see his setup, hon!"
Kramer pulled out a cookie, "I got lights, camera, and PLENTY of action!"

Sammy's poetry tape continued to play on the stereo.
"What's that?" asked Egg-yolk.
"It's Sammy's poetry. She's a beat poet," I explained.
"You should get that published!" said Kramer, "How about sending that tape to Tom's label? I'll take a picture!"
Sammy turned to me, "Well?"
"If Egg-yolk says he's good, then go for it."
"Giddyup!" exclaimed Kramer, "Let me finish developing those pictures of Miss Yoko, and then we'll get started."
Sammy followed Kramer into his apartment.

Then BUZZ went the intercom.
"Yeah?"
"Hola." It was Carmelita.
"C'mon up."
She did. She seemed desperate. Around this time, Sammy and Kramer finished their photo shoot.
"Well that was quick!" I remarked to the three of them.
"I need a foto de mÌ for a belated AÒo Nuevo card. You know any..."
We all said "Kramer."
"Gracias."
Kramer escorted Carmelita into his world.
"Do I sense a Latina accent?" he said.
"Well, I'm from Spain."
"Hmm... Close enough."
The door slammed behind the two and locked.

Then after a lengthy phone call with someone official, I sat down on the couch with Sammy.
"What was that all about?" she asked.
"I got a gig at the Beekman Theater tonight!" I paused. I felt a moment of realization, "...Wait. What if Rammy shows up and badmouths me? She still hasn't apologized to me yet!"
"You know what I'd do?" said Sammy, "I'd pull a Bob Dylan."
I knew exactly where she was going.

EDUTAINMENT
It's 1966. Bob Dylan was on tour, at a time when he was transitioning from acoustic to electric. Nobody liked the move. One night at Manchester, a guy in the audience called him a Judas, and he responded with a blazing loud rendition of 'Like a Rolling Stone', leaving the audience so stunned, that all they could do was applaud.

I went to get my guitar from my bedroom, then I thought of something else: If I want to do something as epic as what Dylan, I might as well bring my gitaroo. So I did. On my way to the front door, I saw Egg-yolk on the couch...lying down...again.
"Again with the lying down?" I asked.
"The doctor says it's good for me to rest a lot," she explained.
"All this for a baby?"
"Yep."
I stepped into the hallway and knocked on Kramer's door.
"Carmelita, I'm leaving!"

Later that night at the Beekman, the house was packed. The Thomas Fay Orchestra was very well-recieved by the audience. I was about to start the last song for the night, 'Hey Jude', when all of the sudden, I heard someone in the audience boo and hiss. As I suspected, it was Rammy.
"IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, VILLAGE BOY?" she yelled.

I spoke calmly into the microphone, "No, there's more."
"WHATEVER. YOU STILL SUCK!"
"I don't believe you."
Suddenly, the audience knew where this was going.
"YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? YOU'RE A JUDAS!" said Rammy.
Well that was it.
"You're a LIAR!" I said.
The audience applauded. I pulled my gitaroo from in front of Ma-San's drum kit, and we launched into 'Like a Rolling Stone'. Just like in '66, Rammy and everyone else was stunned by my crowning moment of awesome. The place erupted with applause.
A quick "Thank you" into the microphone, and I was out.

The next morning, I got Carmelita's New Year card in the mail. It looked very professional, true to Kramer's word. I was just about to open it up when there was a knock on the door.

It was Rammy. She has a tear in her eye.
"That...was...AWESOME!" she said.
She leaned forward and hugged me.
Here was an awkward pause.
Then Rammy broke the ice "I totally owe you for that."
"An apology?" I asked.
"Yeah. That's it," Rammy broke free of her hug. This is one of the few times I saw her happy. Not the usual mean happy, but HAPPY happy.
"I feel like I owe you something too," I said.
"What is it?"
We walked toward my bedroom door.
"Remember when I bailed out on you in Chapter Two?"
"Yeah?"
"I'd like to make up for that."
And so 'make up' we did. Don't worry-one of us used protection.

Then we went back to the kitchen counter near the front door.
"Did you see Carmelita's card yet?" I asked.
"No. Lemmie see that," Rammy took the card from the counter.
BUZZZZZZZZ!
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah." I held down the DOOR button, "Egg-yolk."
"Who took this picture again?" asked Rammy.
"Kramer."
"I don't know if it's him or Carmelita who came up with this idea."
"What're you talking about?" I took the card and looked closely at the picture, "I don't see anything wrong."
Then the door knocked. Sounded like two hands instead of one. I looked through the peep hole in the door. It was Egg-yolk and Carmelita. She must've caught the door as it was closing.

I opened the door to let them in.
"Hey," I said to Carmelita, "I got your card."
"And I got my picture!" interrupted Egg-yolk.
She showed it to me. It was good as Carmelita's.
"Rammy spotted something in the card. I couldn't make out what it was." I gave the card to Carmelita.
Egg-yolk leaned over and made a confused face, but Carmelita just gasped. She knew what the problem was.
"AIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" she squeaked, "Esa es mi pezÛn!"
We all had question marks over our heads. None of us remember the last time we spoke Spanish.
Carmelita saw this and corrected herself, "That's my NIPPLE!"

At this point, Kramer showed up behind her.
"Hey, buddy!" he said, "How'd you like the card?"
Carmelita turned around and gave Kramer a sour face. She shoved the card into his hands.
"See for yourself, pervert!" she said.
Kramer looked at the picture, and jittered with shock.
"Well how about that?" he said curiously, "Should've used Photoshop."
"Don't you see what you've done?" said Carmelita, "You've ruined my reputation! I've sent those cards to everyone I know. The guys down at the local INTERPOL office, The United Nations' Spain mission, Sly Cooper...and Neyla!"

I took the card from Kramer and looked again. Now that somebody brought it up, I could see some sort of lump through Carmelita's shirt in the picture, right where somebody's nipple would be.
I also scanned Egg-yolk's picture. Curiously, there was nothing obscene showing.

Wait...'Neyla'?
"Who's Neyla?" asked Rammy
Carmelita was happy someone changed the subject.
"She was my collegue at INTERPOL until she switched to the bad side."
"How far did she get?"
"Captain. Then she disappeared in favor of transcendental meditation. Now she's back, and we're good now."

I gave Carmelita a hug and a pat on the back.
Now Sammy came in. She was feeling glum.
"I didn't get accepted to DeviantART."
It couldn't be her picture. It must've been her poetry. I have her a hug also. She'll land a spot somewhere...

February (Month 7)

One night I played Scrabble with Carmelita. Sammy was on the couch playing one of my PlayStation games with Egg-yolk. I let Sly, Murray, and Bentley use my apartment as their temporary safehouse. They were over by the windows planning another heist on somebody.

I started to feel sort of concerned, because Carmelita was as beautiful (and sexy) as Egg-yolk, and I'm afraid that one of them might get jealous at the other.
"Are you sure you're fine by me hanging with Carmelita?" I asked Egg-yolk.
"You earned her good side. I'll give you that," she said.
"Because I've put a lot of thought into this-PLAY: Triple word score-We don't have to be a boyfriend/girlfriend couple. We could be a mentor/protege couple. You were a failure before I came along, right?"
"Yeah. And?"
"Then I started hanging around with you, right?"
"Right."
"And then your records became hits because of that."
"You think I could be your next protege?" asked Carmelita, "HUG: Double letter score."
"Let me know when you take a wrong move and lose your boyfriend and prestigious job title...wait! Pretend I didn't say 'boyfriend'!"
Carmelita giggled. Sly turned gave me an annoyed-looking face.
There was a long pause.
"Okay, back to our game."

"I can't think of anything. I don't seem to have any good letters," said Carmelita.
Then Kramer entered.
"Kramer!" Carmelita called, "A little help here?"
He looked down on Carmelita's letter rack, and then onto the board. Then he whispered something into her fox ear.
"Oh, come on. You're LETTING him help you?" She ignored me and put some letters down, "QUONE? THAT'S your word?"
Carmelita was satisfied and counted her points in Spanish.
"I'm afraid...I'm gonna have to challenge," I pulled out a dictionary.
"No," said Kramer, "You don't need to challenge! 'Quone!' That's a definite word!"
Then Bentley piped up "'Quone' is not a word."
Kramer was not convinced, "'Quone!' To...quone something!" he insisted.
I turned to where 'quone' would be in the dictionary, and I showed the page to Carmelita and Kramer.
"Sorry. Not a word. Take it off."
Kramer was flabbergasted. Carmelita gave him a sour face (again).
"Look. We need a MEDICAL dictionary! When a patient gets difficult, you QUONE him!"
I sighed and looked down at the board. It was almost full at this point. I called it quits on Scrabble. Carmelita, Sammy, and Egg-yolk decided to call it a night and went home.

Kramer went over to Sly's table.
"Whatcha up to?" he asked.
"We're planning to rob this guy who lives across the street," explained Bentley, "Our recon photos show that he's got a page of Sly's Thievus Racconus."
"Why don't you just go in there and get the page?"
"It's more complex than that," said Sly, "We can't just barge in there like that, our faces are on WANTED posters everywhere! He's liable to recognize us."
"I know what you can do," said Kramer, "You can stop leaving behind those raccoon-shaped card-thingies of yours!"
"You mean calling cards."
Kramer nodded, "If you're a criminal, you want to stay AWAY from the cops instead of inviting them to arrest you!"
Sly took some thought about this, then whispered to his mates "What do you say guys? Should we ditch the cards?"
"How many do we have left?" asked Murray.
"They're in the van," said Bentley, "but we'll worry about them later. Let's get back to our plan..."
"I got an idea!" interrupted Kramer.

MEANWHILE

In the building across the street, the criminal sat by his dinner table, trying to figure out how to read that Thievus Racconus page. Then there was a loud knocking on the door.
"POLICE! OPEN UP!" yelled someone.
The guy gulped, but yet puzzled. He didn't know any authorities who knew where he lived. So he walked to the door and opened it.
In stepped Kramer in a coat and hat that made him feel like a character on Dragnet.
"FREEZE, BUSTER!" yelled Kramer.
He pinned the guy to a wall and turned his head in the direction of the door.
"You're in big trouble, son," said Kramer, "Burglary, grand larceny, possession of stolen goods...and MURDER!"
The guy looked all puzzled. He never done any of those things. Possession of stolen goods, maybe, but not anything else.
"Hey, I think you got the wrong man," the guy protested.
"Is your name (insert name here)?"
"Yes."
"Yeah. YOU'RE THE PUNK I'M LOOKING FOR!"
Kramer looked around the room for a torn and tattered diary page, and found the right one on the table. He quickly folded it and slipped it into his coat pocket.
"Today is your lucky day, fella, 'cause I'm letting you off with just a warning! One more wrong move and you're gonna be SORRY. You HEAR ME?"
The guy still had his body against the wall as Kramer made his exit.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" said the punk.
Kramer broke character for a moment, "Good. Let's keep it that way."

A few minutes later, Kramer arrived back at my apartment with Sly's missing page.
"Here it is!" he said proudly.
There was a moment of rejoycement from the Cooper Gang.
"Kramer," said Sly, "You did very good out there. We saw the whole thing unfold from our Bionocu-coms. After much consideration, we've decided to make you an honorary member of the Cooper gang. What do you say?"
"Giddyup!"

March (Month 8)

This month marked a couple of firsts for me: First off, I got to see Carmelita's loft. Also, I got to meet Neyla for the first time-She said over the phone that she was coming in and wanted to sleep at Carmelita's.

Carmelita's loft was located in the heart of Chelsea, somewhere on 10th avenue and the 20's. Nearby was the HighLine, an abandoned elevated train line that was converted into a greenway. In preparing fir Neyla's arrival, I had to help Carmelita tidy up the place, and that included coating the furniture with perfume. I wonder if she knows of Kramer's beach cologne…

Then the buzzer sounded.
"Hola?" said Carmelita.
"It's me!" That was Neyla, with a cockney accent.
She buzzed her in. After a few seconds, Neyla was at the door. She wore a red jewel on her forehead, a blue shirt, brown jean-shorts. You know, female safari wear. But I should also mention… she was a purple-furred tiger.
I was at the door when she showed up. She recognized me instantly.
"You must be Thomas Fay of Greenwich Village!" she said with her cockney accent. She must've followed me since the beginning.
"Ah, and you must be Neyla," I said, shaking hand-and-paw.
Then she focused her attention to Carmelita, but this shocked me: Neyla kissed her, full on the LIPS…with her TOUNGE! And what's worse, Carmelita was blushing with happiness.

Carmelita and the Amazing Technicolor Tiger. Inside, I was squealing "WOW!"

I told my discovery to Sly at Monk's the next day.
"I should've known," said Sly, "From what I've heard, Chelsea is a LGBT community."
"You think Carmelita's bisexual?"
"She's got to be. Carmelita blushed with happiness when I kissed her during our time together. But Neyla… I've never seen her kiss a guy."

A few days later, back at the apartment, Egg-yolk showed me and Sly a picture of her most recent ultrasound. It looked human, albeit with antennas.
"There she is!" she marveled.
"One more month to go," I said.
Then Danny entered, "What's all this again?"
"Egg-yolk's gonna have her baby," I recapped.
"And then what?" asked Sly.
We looked at each other and shrugged.
"So..." Sly broke the ice again, "Neyla's a lesbian."
"I thought there was something suspicious about her," said Egg-yolk.
"Well, what can you do? If she's fine with it, let her live with it," Danny declared.

Then came a banging from the hallway.
"Kramer? KRAMER?!"
I opened my door to find Carmelita banging on Kramer's locked door.
"Abre! ABRE! Abre, Kramer, I know you're in there!" She was furious.
"Woah! Carmelita? Why are you suddenly mad at Kramer?"
"You wanna know?" she said, "First, he takes a revealing foto de mi. Then he tells me about some stupid nonsense word. And now he's taken NEYLA from me!"
"She stole your girlfriend?" asked Sly.
"Yes," she started to sweat with fury, "She's in LOVE with him!"
"Well I haven't seen him lately, so I guess he's out," I said.
Carmelita nodded and stormed out of sight.

Then I heard the phone ring.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Is she gone yet?" Kramer's voice was on the other line.
"Yeah."
He hung up and came across to my side.
"So you and Neyla, huh?" said Sly.
"I don't know. I didn't do anything! I was on the High Line, you know, near Carmelita's loft, and I was practicing tango with an old department store mannequin…"
"You're taking up tango?" I queried.
"Well Sly does it!" Sly rolled his eyes, "Anyway, Neyla comes up to me, sees what I'm doing, and...she's a tango expert! She offered to help me on my technique, and something happened between us, but she's a tango expert, Tom!"
"Woah," I said.
"So I'm gonna have dinner with her tonight at Pershing Square. Her treat. You know where that is, don't you?"
"Yeah," I said, "It's on 42nd street, under Park Avenue, across from the main entrance to Grand Central."
"Wait. I don't get it," said Egg-yolk, "This tiger has never been with a man her entire LIFE."
Kramer simply said "I'm Kramer."
After Kramer left, Danny quipped "He's Tommy! 'The few I touch now are decibels'. He's put Neyla under his spell!"

And after that date, Neyla disappeared… again. Carmelita wishes her good riddance for cheating on her, and she's back with Sly again.