The alley behind the Bell was dingy and dank, with fetid water pooling in the ground. Ragged cats prowled through the darkness, surveying the Jellicles with predatory eyes. Rubbish littered the street, around which the cats had to slink. Broken glass littered the ground. "What're you doin' 'ere?" an ugly tom with a missing ear asked. Mungojerrie stared at him, dominating the larger cat with his cold eyes. "Me and my friends are looking for a tom named Grumbuskin," the thief said calmly. "Do you know where I can find him?" The cat sneered. "In there," he gestured, pointing to a hole in the back of the building with a crooked claw. "Thank you," Mungojerrie smiled, before turning to his friends. "Stay together and let me do the talking."
The friends stuck close together as they entered the large den. In the dimly lit space, villainous cats strolled to and fro. There was a plank supported on a pair of barrels, behind which ran pipes from the beer supplies above, which the cats had tapped. The friends looked around. Villains eyed up Jemima, Rumpleteazer and Exotica, clearly liking what they saw, but the combined bulk of Plato and Erik meant they swiftly moved on. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer approached the bar. "What'll it be?" the bartender, a grimy brown tom with halitosis and three missing teeth. "Information," Mungojerrie smiled. "Information's extra," the bartender snarled. Rumpleteazer reached into the sack, drawing out half a fish. "What do you want to know?" the bartender smiled. "We're looking for Grumbuskin," Mungojerrie said. The bartender pointed towards a booth shrouded in darkness. "Thank you," Mungojerrie smiled, turning to leave as Rumpleteazer tossed their informant the fish. Erik motioned him over. "I don't like this Mungo. There are too many cats here, and they don't exactly look like the nicest bunch." Plato nodded in agreement. Mungojerrie spotted an empty booth. "Go sit over there. You can stop yourself from being surrounded and it has an excellent view of the bar." Erik nodded. "I never thought I'd be back in somewhere like this," he muttered. "Neither did I," Mungojerrie responded.
Even with their feline vision, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer could not penetrate the darkness that engulfed Grumbuskin's booth. "Who're you?" a low, gravelly voice spat. "Someone who wants to ask you a couple of questions," Mungojerrie said. "Get lost," the voice snarled. Something stirred within the gloom, and empty bottles rolled out of the darkness. "What about if I offered you something in return?" Rumpleteazer asked, withdrawing the brandy they had stolen. "Alright then," the voice groaned. A filthy paw emerged from the booth, beckoning them inside.
As soon as the cats entered the booth the darkness lifted slightly, confirming Rumpleteazer's suspicion that it wasn't natural. Grumbuskin was a mess. His pale fur was matted and ragged, crusted with sand, mud, dried blood and meat juices. One eye was missing, a ragged bandana covering the bloody hole, and he was criss-crossed with livid scars, many of which looked infected. Half his nose was missing and his teeth were rotten and black. He stank of stale alcohol and rotten food. He was covered in a ragged blanket, which only added to the pathetic image. "What do you want to know?" he snarled. "What do you know about Griddlebone?" Mungojerrie asked. "She's the captain's mate," Grumbuskin muttered. Rumpleteazer gave a start, but Mungojerrie shook his head imperceptibly to everyone but his partner. "How did you end up here?" the tabby queen asked the ex-pirate. "None of your bloody business!" the pirate snarled. ""Alright, alright," Mungojerrie intervened. He slid the bottle of brandy across to Grumbuskin, who eagerly fell on the booze. He swiftly downed the lot, tipping his head back and just pouring it down his gullet.
The pirate swayed slightly. Mungojerrie almost pitied him. Grumbuskin had once been the second most feared cat in London, only bested by his captain. Now he a pathetic wreck of a cat, a mixture of regrets and health problems marinating in alcohol. Grumbuskin glared blearily at the thieves, swaying slightly. "Any … any … anything else you want to know?" he slurred. "Is Macavity carrying on Growltiger's crusade against foreign cats?" Mungojerrie asked, getting straight to the point. "He's not doing anything," the drunken cat laughed. "He's powerless against Fire and the cap…" Suddenly he went silent, his eyes seeming to clear. "You bastards," he snarled, lunging for Mungojerrie. The table was over turned and the thieves made a break for it. "Macavity will reward any cat who guts those Jellicles!" Grumbuskin screamed, pointing a crooked claw at them. For a second the entire bar turned to look at them. Then all hell broke loose.
Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer and their friends scrambled out of the bar, running for their lives. A huge tom with tattoos and scars from numberless fights covering his body made a leap for Jemima, but Erik intercepted him. The companions turned back to help their friend, but he didn't need it. Erik had already incapacitated the much larger cat, burying his opponent's nose in the dirt before leaping clear.
The friends ran out of the alley, and didn't stop until they took cover under a parked car. They were breathing heavily. "Well, that could have gone better," Plato muttered, putting his arm around Exotica. "Did you find out anything?" Jemima wheezed, clutching a stich in her side. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer looked at each other.
"Growltiger's Alive," they declared.