44. "Foiled, Pts. 3-4"

Sheriff Woodland regained consciousness to the sounds of a vacuum cleaner running. He sat up as slowly as he could but still felt light-headed as he did. His nephew was in the kitchen, using the vacuum's nozzle to suck up some of the smaller detritus around the room.

Ward began by crawling toward the kitchen. By the time he got to the doorway, Double-D had noticed him and turned off the vacuum. His uncle grabbed the side of the doorway to lift himself up and get to his feet as he stepped into the room. They stared at one another, neither saying a word. Neither seemed particularly excited to see each other; granted, they didn't look annoyed or sad or anything like that either. If anything, the looks on their faces could best be described as 'awkward'.

The big wolf kneeled and grabbed the refrigerator, pushing it back onto its feet and pushing it as well as he could back into its rightful spot, then opening up the fridge door and poking his nose in. He didn't seem to find what he was looking for.

"I got a nasty headache," he said without looking at his nephew. "Yer maw and paw really don't keep any Coke in this house?" It was understood that he was using the term 'Coke' in the way that Southerners do to describe all sodas and pops of any brand.

"Uh… no, my… my parents aren't a fan of soft drinks," Edd replied. "Terribly over-sweetened with no nutritional value."

Ward nodded slowly. "Aw, yeah… I remember now. Yer folks were always health nuts." He gave a split-second glance at Double-D before searching in vain through the fridge again. "Well I got a splittin' headache and I could really go fer some caffeine to make it go away."

"Oh, well, uh… we do have a coffee-maker, but… that would take a bit of time to brew, of course. And tea, though I… can't imagine you'd be so inclined."

Woodland just shook his head and stood upright again. "Nah… 'scuse me for a sec," he said as he gently pushed his nephew aside and walked out of the kitchen to the bathroom. Edd watched him as he walked right past all the destruction and devastation and opened the medicine cabinet with the shattered mirror, searching for something but again not seeming to find it. "Yer parents really don't even keep aspirin or nothin' in this house? What, they afraid you'd overdose on it?"

"Oh, no, we… we do have pain-relief medicines, but we keep them in the upstairs bathroom," Edd said as he approached the doorway. "Um… would you like me to… retrieve some for you?"

Ward just shook his head as he ducked to step out of the ruined restroom. "Nah, I'll just… suck it up." He gave his nephew a lasting look for the first time since he came to. "So… what were those guys doin' in yer house, Eddie?"

He'd known this question was coming and he was prepared for it. He wasn't well-prepared for it, but he had a fib ready to go.

"Y-you see, Uncle Ward, they'd come to the door masquerading as Jehovah's Witnesses, but I told them as I would have told real door-to-door evangelists that although we are a culturally nondenominational Christian household, we certainly don't share their religious, um, fervor, so I invited them in to demonstrate how I put my faith in science-"

"Awright, hold yourself up right there," said the sheriff, holding up a paw. "How's about ya fast-forward ta' the part where you called the fox by his real name an' helped him get down the laundry chute when I was clearly tryna apprehend them?"

There were so many things Edd wanted to say to that. Most of them were some permutation of I didn't see you try to apprehend them, I saw you try to murder them in the most violent way possible. But he was afraid that saying anything regarding fearing him would result in a retort that Double-D had been brainwashed by his parents. And yeah, he had been, but… let's just say Uncle Ward wasn't the same person before that toilet flushed as he was afterwards. And one of those people aligned much more than the other with the version of Ward that Edd had been warned about all those years.

Therefore Edd said nothing.

"I saw the look on your face when I asked ya who was upstairs. Now maybe I'm just naive, but I don't think you'd make that kind a' face 'less ya were hidin' someone in your bedroom ya knew ya shouldn't a' been. Ya wouldn't a' made that face if ya were just havin' some regular ol' guests over."

Double-D remained silent. It was hard to argue with that.

His uncle kept going: "An' we were havin' such a nice conversation before I heard that toilet flush. I'll be honest with ya, Eddie, finally gettin' ta' see ya after all these years made me feel the happiest I've felt in a while. But now I don't know how ta' feel 'bout all that now that I know who yer friends are."

And Edd rallied the courage to protest: "Excuse me! You know nothing of my relationship with them! They and I do not consider ourselves friends! In fact, much to my unending chagrin, they regard me as a coward!"

Ward didn't miss a beat. "So ya do know 'em."

Double-D looked like he shat himself. "...I beg your pardon?"

"Ya just admitted. Ya do know 'em. An' they know you well 'nuff that they got this kind a' opinion a' ya."

The nephew couldn't maintain eye contact, so he looked at the ground instead.

"I might be dumb, but I ain't no fool, son. Ya lied ta' me 'bout 'em an' I got all the pieces I need ta' put the picture together." The sheriff shook his head slowly in disappointment. "An' I'd say the way you're reactin' ta' my conclusion is kinda provin' me right, wouldn'tcha say?"

So tell me, Dear Reader, what do you do when an authority figure is angry with you, and that authority figure is at once both arguably the one person who's shown the most interest in you in your life and the one person you've seen attempt the wildest act of premeditated malice you've ever seen before in your life? Do you submit? Or do you rebel?

Maybe you do what Double-D did and just sort of awkwardly split the difference.

"Now Uncle Ward! I'll concede that from your point of view this may all seem a betrayal of trust, and I apologize for that, but please think this through! If they regarded me as a coward, why would I fraternize with them, invite them into my home, and defend them from you!?"

Woodland just shrugged with a look on his face like he pitied his nephew, whose genius intellect seemed to be failing him.

"I dunno, Eddie, you're the one who fraternized with 'em, invited 'em into yer house, and defended 'em from me, just to look me in the eye after and say naw, they think you're a damn dirty coward."

This was perhaps a game of logical chess Double-D couldn't win.

"But ya wanna know what I can't make sense of?" the sheriff asked with a raised eyebrow, then turned and made his way for the staircase. "C'mon. Let's you and me have a chit-chat."

Edd followed, if only to not further aggravate his uncle.

Ward reached the top of the stairs and looked around as his nephew caught up to him. It took him a second, but the sheriff did soon find what he was looking for.

"Awright, boy, tell me," the large wolf said as he walked over to something that the fox had attempted to plunk him with. He bent over and picked up the humanoid skull, missing its lower jaw. "...What the hell is this?"

Double-D's heart was thumping. He knew exactly where his uncle was going with this, and Edd wanted to get it over with.

"...It's a replica human skull, Uncle Ward."

The sheriff nodded slowly as he took a deep breath through his nose, his blood clearly simmering just below a boil.

"Now I know you're a kid who loves his science and history… but I don't think you know what this means ta' our people…"

"Would you… care to enlighten me about what its significance is to our species?" Amid this strange flurry of feeling brave yet terrified, Edd had tried to deliver that question to sound respectful but it came across sounding flippant anyway. "I assume you mean our species rather than any sort of ethnic or ideological identity?"

"Of course I mean our species!" Ward growled as he leaned over his nephew. "A species that this species tried ta' enslave! And because a bunch of idiots allowed themselves ta' be subjugated, these assholes prolly died with the satisfaction a' feelin' they succeeded!"

Subjugated. That may have legitimately been the most advanced word Double-D had ever heard his uncle use. This was concerning.

"Lemme tell ya a little something, Eddie: for the longest time, nobody even thought these suckers were real, 'cept for us… and them stupid fuckin' dogs! Everybody else just thought they were some legendary critters and we was just usin' them to explain why we had a bone ta' pick with them puppies, like a origin myth or sumpthin'! But then when we started diggin' up the bones!? Ooh, lordy… the good feelin' a' bein' proven right wasn't 'nuff ta' make us feel better 'bout the fact that it was now a undeniable fact we almost got wiped out by some naked monkeys!"

"I… I can imagine the conflicting feelings such a revelation must have brought to our community," said Edd, trying to play it cool as Robin and Little John would have. "But I don't mean to disrespect-"

"All them dogs ya see on the street started out as wolves," Ward continued. "Every single one, a wolf who chose to wander from the pack and got mutated as punishment. We were the ones with enough integrity to maintain our independence, and they were the ones who let themselves be broken because they were too STUPID, or too GODDAMN LAZY, ta' fend for themselves! And for what!? What did they even get outta it!? Some table scraps and some scratches behind the ears." He scoffed. "Some bargain!"

Double-D was going to let his uncle exhaust himself before he chose to rebut, just to make sure he didn't prematurely counter an argument Ward wasn't even going to make. And it's a good thing he did bite his tongue, because as much as Edd expected his uncle to start espousing the obsolete alpha/beta/omega caste system, he stayed on topic and got to his final point:

"So lemme just make this completely crystal clear, Eddie: for all yer love a' science and history and shit like that, you're doin' your people a disservice when you memorialize these guys," Woodland said as he held the jawless skull in front of his nephew's face. "Because while those dogs might revere these assholes like they're gods… we know better. We know these guys tried to make us sit and stay at their command, and we ain't gonna dick around and pretend they didn't! Do you understand!?"

Edd gulped but stood firm as he formulated his response.

"I understand entirely why you and many other members of our species may feel this way about the extinct human species, but to my understanding, there was never any sort of coercion that made many of our cousins choose a different path, it was entirely voluntary as it was seen as a mutually beneficial arrange-"

"Aw, you actually think I was saying that wasn't how it happened!?" Ward snapped. "Yeah, they chose to follow 'em! But just because they weren't threatenin' ta' stick their spears into our skulls don't mean they weren't tryna wipe us out! It's called a domination victory, Eddie! We were fightin' for dominance and they took out a huge chunk a' our people just by… just by bein' good at sellin' the idea a' belly rubs! They'll tell ya ta' this very day that they think it was a equal arrangement between friends, but naw, anybody with two eyes and a brain in their head could see it was a case a' servant and master! Ya know what kind a' canis lupus sees a human skull and thinks it's worth preserving? A cowardly traitor, that's who!"

The sheriff threw the skull at the nearest wall and added another couple hundred dollars' worth of damage to the trashed house. In his shock, Double-D inhaled sharply enough that he would have audibly gasped had he not specifically been keeping his mouth locked shut.

"Boy, are you a wolf!?" Ward yelled at his nephew with a pointed finger. "Or are ya a coward who needs a hairless ape to provide for ya!?"

"...I fail to see how my identity as a wolf is compromised by my fascination with a relic of natural history, Uncle Ward."

Woodland was stunned. He'd have been proud of the way his Little Pup was standing up for himself had he been doing it to anybody other than himself.

Not that Double-D would have felt right taking full credit for this showing of confidence; while he didn't know for certain that his uncle wouldn't hurt him, he was fairly certain that he was his uncle's favorite person, and he was willing to gamble that Ward wouldn't harm such a person. And if he was wrong, well, Edd was prepared for death at any moment.

But this uncle ceased to be angry and instead just became disappointed.

"Did yer folks ever even teach ya how to howl?"

Curveball, in for a strike.

"They didn't, did they?" the sheriff prodded.

Edd shook his head. "Um… as with other aspects of tradition, we don't, uh… we don't maintain them if we don't see the point of-"

He was interrupted by his uncle pointing his nose to the ceiling and letting out a long howl to demonstrate.

Double-D simply stated in confusion, and when Ward stopped howling and looked back down at his nephew, he gave Edd a confused look of his own.

"What!?" Woodland asked, almost begging. "Aren't you gonna howl with me!?"

"Un-Uncle Ward, I wasn't being facetious when I said my parents hadn't taught me-"

"I didn't say do it right, I just asked are ya gonna do it!" Ward let out another howl to the ceiling, then looked back at Double-D with an even more baffled look. "What!?" he begged. "Ya don't even feel it!?"

"...Feel… what, exactly?"

"The urge! The calling to howl with me!"

"Uncle Ward, we've just established that I've never been taught how-!"

"No, no, I just said it's not about doin' it right! It's like singin'! Ya don't have to know how ta' do it right when everybody knows how ta' do it wrong! Do-don't worry about breath support or fuckin' up yer throat, just…! AWOOOOOOOOOOO-OOO-OOO-OOOOOOO!"

He looked back down at Edd. Still nothing.

"We're wolves, Eddie," he implored. "We howl ta'gether. It's what we do. It's what we've always done!"

Ward put his paws on his nephew's shoulders.

"When you hear me howl… don't ya have the urge ta' just… join in with me? Ain't that just inside a ya!?"

Double-D stared blankly for a second. He shook his head exactly once, then paused, then shook his head once more.

Ward sighed and retracted his hands, putting them on his sides instead.

"Well… maybe I just been away fer too long… but I just don't know ya anymore, kid." Now he was shaking his head, but of course he was doing it in dejection rather than confusion. "Never thought you'd be the kind a' kid who didn't care fer yer people's history… never thought you'd be the kind a' wolf who didn't even have the urge to join a howl wired into yer bones… never thought you'd be the kind a' guy who'd help wanted fuckin' criminals get away from the highest officer of the law-!"

"STOP!"

Ward stopped.

"STOP YELLING AT ME!" Edd protested. "I-I was in a position where I had to either anger one very powerful officer of the law or two very powerful and very dangerous criminals! I couldn't win! I simply could not win! And as frustrated as you are with me now, I could have had double as many people frustrated with me if I'd chosen to help you and failed! I refuse to be told I'm a bad person because I was thrust into a position where no option would have made me a good person! I refuse to stand here and be the victim of circumstance!"

The sheriff wasn't buying it.

"Ya say ya were afraid that you'da had the wrong guys pissed off at ya if ya didn't catch 'em, but it don't seem ta' be crossin' yer mind that we coulda caught 'em if ya just helped me. Or did they convince ya that they really are unbeatable?"

Double-D maintained a determined look as he tried to formulate another reply. But… y'know, they say that we often don't give ourselves enough time to think through our words before speaking, and that typically others will give us more time to be silent and think before we speak than we give ourselves. If this is true, then his uncle was atypical.

"I'm startin' ta' get the feelin' that you're more afraid a' me winnin' than ya are a' them losin'."

Another curveball, another strike against Double-D. But down oh-two, Edd decided he might as well swing for the fences. (Which is a completely backwards sports metaphor because being aggressive with the bat is strategically the last thing you're supposed to do when you're down to your last strike at the plate, but go easy on him, this was Double-D, surely I don't have to explain that he didn't know shit about baseball and didn't care, much like any European people who might hypothetically be reading this.)

"Well, Uncle Ward… I'll confess… it may have clouded my judgment seeing how… how frankly pathological you seemed in pursuing them. I dare say… bloodthirsty."

The sheriff thrust his head back a little, as if blown away by the profundity of that statement.

"Ya think I was bloodthirsty!? May I remind ya that these two assholes are far and away the most wanted men in the country!?"

"They are still living mammals like you and I and they deserve a right to a fair trial and due process like any other persons. You, meanwhile - to be completely blunt - seemed, pardon my French, hell-bent on murdering them in cold blood, in my bedroom no less."

"Ya really think I'm such a bad cop that I wasn't gonna give 'em that? C'mon! You should know me better'n-"

"Do correct me if I'm wrong, but I could swear I distinctly recall you swinging a baton when the Englishman was already pinned and could have been easily apprehended. You certainly looked like you were trying to maim him."

Woodland abandoned the pretense. "And why shouldn't I a' been!? Do you not understand how much damage those two sons a' bitches have already caused ta' this city!?"

"I understand fully, that's why I disagree with them, but I-"

"If you don't agree with 'em, then why the hell were ya tryna save 'em!?"

It's a damned shame Rob and Johnny weren't there to see this.

"Because you were trying to hurt them more than they deserved."

"Newsflash, Eddie! Bad guys deserve whatever bad things they get! And they're the bad guys, ya said it yerself! Everybody in the world thinks it's okay for good people to do bad things to bad people who deserve it! And if ya don't believe that, then lemme suggest that ya grow the hell up!"

...Now where had Double-D heard that one before?

"W-well that's exactly what they say! That's their ideology to a T! They believe that they're the morally righteous ones and that therefore justifies their extrajudicial approach to justice! They flagrantly violate the law to fulfill what they believe is their ethical onus - and so do you when you wildly and proudly use excessive force in an attempt to capture them! In this way… you and they are the same! Please explain to me how your philosophy on exacting justice is any different from theirs!"

Edd's observation of the similarities between his uncle and the Merry Men was very astute and well-argued, but once again living up to the stereotype of the book-smart nerd who lacks common sense, he didn't realize that it was perhaps the worst thing he could have said in this situation.

Ward, having found that comparison curious, put a sick grin on his face and leaned in towards his nephew's.

"Y'know what? You're absolutely right. I don't agree with them boys on much, but we both do agree that sometimes ya gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette. And like I said, Eddie… most people do. They just all got different ideas is all 'bout when a bad person's bad enough to deserve it and when a good person's good enough to give it to 'em." Then he made a conscious effort to sour his expression, still keeping his face right in front of Edd's. "So please explain to me why if me and them are both the same… you chose them over your own lawman uncle."

And to wrap up the baseball metaphor, that was less of a third strike and more like a hit-by-pitch. And Double-D could have just followed the rules and taken his base and said something to the effect of because they're dangerous criminals who know where I live and I'd hate to get on their bad side whereas I knew you would understand my fear and forgive me, and his uncle probably would have bought that. But instead, when Double-D got beaned, he opted to charge the mound.

"... Because you took my hat."

The sheriff's eyes popped open. "Wh- what!?"

"You grabbed my hat… you pulled it off of my head, knowing perhaps better than anybody why that hat is so important to me and choosing to violate me anyway… and you proceeded to use said hat to facilitate picking up a cactus and throwing it at a living being. I quite frankly cannot conceive of how a morally righteous person would choose to engage in such a series of actions."

His arms and legs were trembling as he said that, with his ears back and his tail pointed straight down, but the look on Edd's face was one of resolute determination.

In response, Woodland narrowed his eyes.

"You wouldn't even a' had that hat if it weren't for me."

Edd's look of determination evaporated as he was no longer mostly certain that his uncle wouldn't seek to harm him. In fact, this confidence nosedived to probably less than fifty percent after his uncle put his paw on his shoulder again. And squeezed.

"I can take that hat back whenever the hell I want to, do ya understand?" the old wolf growled.

"Um… Un-Uncle Ward, I- I'm certain you don't mean to, but… you are hurting me-"

Ward put his other paw on Edd's other shoulder and squeezed that one just as hard. Double-D had noticed earlier that one of his uncle's eyes had seemed irritated, but now that eye was glowing bright red, and along with his jaundiced other eye made him look like a cartoony madman ready to lash out. The sight staring directly into Double-D's face would be enough to strike fear in even the bravest mammal. For all the trouble Little John had gone through to avoid pissing on his floor, the young wolf may have been on the precipice of doing it himself.

"Um… may-maybe a foolish question, but… j-just to reassure me, you… you wouldn't hurt your Little Pup, right?"

By Edd's calculations, which our editing team doesn't care to check for accuracy, he realized about 0.87 milliseconds after those words had left his mouth that his uncle hadn't called him "Li'l Pup" since he'd regained consciousness. That realization came just in time for Ward to say this:

"Ya haven't listened to a word I said, have ya, boy?" the sheriff snarled. "You're a stranger ta' me now. I don't know ya anymore."

Buzzzzzzz!

Ward saw his radio was going off and released his nephew to step aside and field the call.

"This is Ward, what's the problem?"

"Ward, did you turn off your freaking radio again!?"

"Naw, I put it on vibrate for direct calls! I answered ya, didn't I?"

"Well look, there's a huge protest going on downtown. Elkins and Goldthwaite. We need you downtown by the bridge-"

"To do what!?"

"To do your job, dude! You and Nutzinger need to get down here ASAP! Just play riot-breaker!"

The sheriff glanced at his petrified nephew.

"... I'm busy right now."

"Doing what!? What takes precedent over breaking up a riot!?"

Woodland stared at Double-D for a few seconds longer before turning away.

"Aw, just takin' a shit in an IHOP men's room. I'll head down when I'm done."

"Fuck, awesome, good to know."

"By the way, Nutsy ain't with me."

"Well I'm glad you didn't drag him into the bathroom with you, but tell him the same thing when you get out-"

"Naw, I mean he ain't with me today. He and I split up for the day. I dunno where he's even at."

"...You would eat at an IHOP alone. Of course you would."

"I didn't say I was here ta' eat, dipshit, I just came ta' use the shitter!"

"Well, whatever, just get downtown. Don't worry about calling George, I'll call him myself. But for the love of God, at least keep your radio on the main frequency."

"Copy." And without even looking at his nephew, he took the staircase toward the front door and headed downstairs.

"Um…" Double-D thought he should say something but didn't know what to say. "Is that… all?"

The sheriff reached the bottom of the stairs before bothering to turn around and face his nephew.

"I wasn't here. Ya ain't gonna tell her maw and paw I was here, ya ain't gonna tell yer li'l friends, and you sure as shit ain't gonna tell the police. The PD ain't payin' for all this mess and neither am I. And if ya disobey me and squeal on me anyway, I will implicate ya as an accomplice ta' those criminals and I will have ya thrown in jail. And if you somehow cause me ta' lose my job because I couldn't catch them bandits? Hoo boy… you better believe I'm gonna talk ta' my old pal Bobby in Cherry Stream. Maybe have him dig up an old case I convinced him to lay off… what was it? Five years back?"

Oh no he didn't.

"Y-you can't simply reanimate a settled matter like that! There were never any charges filed!"

Woodland smiled. "Exactly! Can't have double jeopardy if ya weren't even tried in the first place!"

"B-but Chief Jeffcoat would never agree to do that to me! He personally convinced those families not to press charges because he could empathize with my situation!"

Ward shook his head in pity. "Tsk tsk tsk. You really ain't listenin' to a word I said, is ya? I just toldja he's a buddy a' mine! With all that book readin' ya really can't figure out I cajoled him into makin' that up ta' protect ya? Lyin', Eddie; it's a life skill, one ya gotta learn. Just like how you're gonna lie ta' yer parents about how all this mess came about…"

He punched a hole in the wall for no apparent reason other than to make a statement. "Daw!" he yelped as he clutched his punching paw. "Dumb wall almost broke mah hand!"

Edd was fuming at the wayward destruction, but he saw little he could say or do to stop it.

"By the way," his uncle said as he opened the door to see himself out, "assumin' ya keep yer mouth shut… ya don't have to worry about me showin' my face 'round these parts anytime soon. I don't wanna see your maw and paw…" His smile faded. "...and I don't know anyone else who lives here." And he was gone, slamming the door behind him as one might imagine he would.

Double-D stood there in silence for a solid couple of minutes before letting out a deep sigh and compelling himself to get back to work cleaning everything up.

"Well, at least that madman is gone," he said to the space around him. He needed to try to look on the bright side. He had a lot of thinking to do; not about the lie he'd have to tell, he already knew what he was going to say, he just needed to screw up the nerve to say it. He needed to figure out how to feel about what had just transpired.

But as he chastised himself for talking aloud to himself like he was himself a madman himself, he figured that as long as he really was alone in that house, he might as well give it a try.

"AwoooOOOOO- ACK! Ack, ack!" Nope, he wasn't trying that again. Way too much strain on his throat all to do something he found weird and animalistic for no constructive reason.

And as he pushed through his coughing fit, he couldn't help but yearn for a life where he didn't have to be a wolf, he just wanted to be an individual. At the risk of sounding eerily similar to those species-statist skinheads, he would have loved to have lived in a society without the messiness that came with the conflict between different breeds and biologies. He couldn't see how it would be disadvantageous where everyone wasn't immediately tagged as wolf or fox or bear or rabbit or mouse or elephant, expected to live up to other species' stereotypes of them as well as their own people's lofty expectations. Juvenile as it may have sounded, this was yet another reason he'd have liked to escape to the world of the humans. When you're all the same species, that's one less major factor you can use to discriminate against one another, right? Unless they were to actively seek conflict and decide to prejudge each other based on more trivial details of appearances, but they wouldn't do that, right? What would there even be to be bigotted about? The color of their… what, their eyes? Their head-fur? He could care less for the medieval setting, but the idea of slipping into the universe of Adam Bell seemed particularly appealing right about then. How badly he'd have loved to go there. No one could ever know; it was simply too childish a desire.

You may have noticed Edd was never directly told that a bathroom emergency had been the impetus for all this. Of course, Double-D was an observant young man and a deductive thinker, so he was easily able to infer what had happened based on the sound of the toilet flushing. That said, neurotic as he freely admitted he was, with the power of hindsight, he would absolutely have preferred Little John to have just pissed in his beakers.

-IllI-

How furious was Sheriff Woodland as he left the Lupo house? Well, to give you an idea, he saw all his tires had been popped and the car's body panels vandalized, and he consciously chose not to care. He just wanted to get out of there. And he made it about a mile down the road before the engine sputtering got to be too much and the vehicle just quit on him in the middle of Sherwood Forest.

"Goddammit!" he grumbled as he pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed his radio. "Hey, this is Woodland, my cruiser went ta' hell on Sherwood Forest Road near Peach Creek, think someone put sugar in the gas tank or sumpthin'. Someone gemme a new one?"

The dispatcher on duty replied: "How could someone put sugar in the gas tank? There's supposed to be a lock on the lid so random people can't just open it up and put shit in there."

"Yeah, I ripped that part off a while back because it was just too much of a bitch to open up every time I needed ta' refill."

"Oh, for the love of… Alright, we'll send another car out. You're in Sherwood? Alright, ETA, fifteen minutes. Or ten, or twenty… man, we'll get there when we get there."

Ward was tense as he waited in his car. He was in enemy territory. Did the Merry Men fuck with his gas tank specifically with the expectation that he would break down in the middle of the woods? No, no, too many variables. They couldn't have known what direction he'd be going in, they couldn't have known how far he'd get before breaking down… could they have? Sometimes those suckers seemed to be psychic like that.

But whereas a question like this would usually have him worrying himself sick, he was just too angry to be anxious. As if he needed another reason to hate those two, they'd given him one: they'd stolen his nephew from him. They'd taken the only person who didn't openly regard him with contempt and brainwashed him into having contempt for him too. Yeah, his sister and her husband probably helped with that, but the fox and the bear must have done a hell of a job if they'd inspired his nephew into defying the law for only the second real time in his life.

Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Li'l Pup. Whatever had become of you? Ward wasn't being dramatic when he said he didn't know this kid anymore, he legitimately refused to believe that the Double-D he knew would behave like he'd seen him do in that house.

Not just the part about helping the fox escape; if Edd had been a quick thinker and a good liar, he could have told him that he had just projected his fear of punishment onto these criminals and amid the chaos and confusion had accidentally let them get away with high crimes, and Woodland honestly probably would have bought that. No, what really irked the sheriff is that this kid had the unmitigated fucking temerity to double down and tell him that he thought he was a bad man. And all over a stupid hat.

Tap, tap, tap.

"WHOA! Jesus Christ, man, chill out!" the hippo cop said as he threw his hands up and backed away from the car window upon seeing the sheriff flinch and pull his gun on him. "You knew backup was coming, didn't you!?"

Ward realized he'd been hasty as he put his gun away and exited the car. "Sorry 'bout that, I just got it in my head those bandits might be comin' for me since we're in their neck a' the woods… literally."

"Hey, I get it, but your window was rolled up. If you shot through your driver's side window, the glass probably would have exploded in your face."

"Welp, windows were up to run the A/C, then the engine died. Can't roll down them fancy new automatic windows if the engine ain't running!"

The hippo officer didn't understand how any of this was pertinent information. "No, I understand that, you don't need to explain that to me. I'm just saying if you had shot, that's what would have happened."

But Ward's mind wasn't totally into this conversation. He was busy thinking about other things.

Feeling compelled to break the awkward silence, the hippo continued. "We'd better get you downtown, they're calling for Elkins and Goldthwaite's heads after what they did to that hyena kid."

The sheriff was pondering. He really didn't care anymore whether his traitor of a nephew thought he was a good person or not anymore - or at least that's what he was telling himself. But he sure would have loved to have done something to have proven to everyone that he was indisputably a good guy. If he could do that, he could sleep soundly knowing that Double-D was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

The hippo was further confused by the extended silence and the way the wolf seemed to be glaring angrily at the trees across the highway.

"By the way, uh… Officer Potter, Cherry Stream precinct. Um… you can call me Dave, though… You ready to go?"

Dave gestured to the vehicle he'd arrived in, an SUV. An Explorer, maybe? He didn't get what the hold up was.

Woodland had an idea.

"Gimme the keys."

Potter relinquished them. "Oh, uh… you wanna drive?"

"Course I wanna drive!" the wolf grumbled as he got in the driver's seat. "What are ya, an idiot!?"

Potter shook his head as he started to understand why everybody hated this guy. "I mean, it's fitted for me, so I was just gonna drive-"

He was cut off by the sound of the SUV's engine roaring to life, followed by the sounds of tires spinning in dirt and screeching on asphalt, capped off with the sound of carbon fiber crunching as Ward clipped the bumper of the car he had just exited, speeding off down the road towards the city.

"...us."

The sheriff knew exactly where he needed to go. And after he finished destroying that IHOP men's room, he knew exactly where he needed to go after that.

-IllI-

Sheriff Woodland kicked in the door as he entered the establishment. "Tom Elkins and Matt Goldthwaite, y'all are both under arrest!"

The patrons and staff of Lucky's looked up at the wolf in confusion.

Ward looked around the bar. It had been shoddily cleaned up after he and his deputy had trashed it the other day (albeit with some help), but it still looked to be in a sorry state. But the elk and the bobcat were nowhere to be seen.

"Ward, what are you doing here?" asked the antelope behind the bar.

"Oh, uh… hey, Big Dick! Um… Elky and Goldy here?"

"LUCKY!" Dick hollered toward the office.

"No, no, don't call Lucky-!"

"What the fuck is this now…!?" the horse could be heard grumbling before he threw open his door. "Ward, what the hell are you doing here!?"

"Uh, I, um, I'm here ta' find Elkins and Goldthwaite."

"We banned those idiots for life after they destroyed our bar on Monday!" said Lucky. "And unless you have a warrant, you're not gonna be very welcome here either! Doesn't that sound fair, Mister Call-The-Other-Police, I'm-Not-Cleaning-This-Mess-Up? Do you have a warrant!?"

"Uh, no, I-"

"Then make yourself scarce!"

"But where can I find 'em!?"

"I dunno, the unemployment line!? That's none of my concern! Now get outta here!"

Ward turned to the antelope. "Dick, you know anything about them?"

Mr. Leland shook his head.

"Ward, are you fucking deaf!?" yelled the horse.

The sheriff accepted his defeat and walked out.

But he wasn't giving up. He knew he'd had drinks with the elk and the bobcat at a few places before, but the specific locations were all blurring together in his head. He could narrow it down to about a dozen, but no fewer than that.

Well, time to go check all of them

-IllI-

Sheriff Woodland kicked in the door as he entered the establishment. "Tom Elkins and Matt Goldthwaite, y'all are both under arrest!"

The patrons and staff of the bar looked up at the wolf in confusion.

Except for one patron, a buck wearing a tank top, who swivelled out of his barstool and made his way over to Woodland. From what we can gather, this guy's real name was Jason something-or-other, but with his sense of humor, his friends called him Bambi; he thought taking the name of a Sidney character matched the boyishly-cute aesthetic he went for, and with how everyone in the room knew and admired him, you could kind of say that he was the prince of this bar.

"Well if it isn't the legend himself!" Bambi said as he got his face close to Ward's; the deer was at least half a foot shorter but certainly had a confident presence. "We thought we'd never see you in here again! We've been telling stories about you! We didn't even realize we were awaiting the return!"

Woodland was busy realizing that he'd seen this face once before. "Uh…"

"Oh, whatever happened to your eye? Pop a blood vessel? Poor little thing," the patron cooed, his eyes half-closed. "Hey, if the ladies can't appreciate a real man's body, then fine, we'll appreciate ya! Took ya a while to realize it, but hey, better late than never! How's about ya let Bambi here show ya around?" the buck asked as he put an arm around the wolf's shoulder and put his other hand on Ward's chest.

The sheriff noticed that the other patrons were looking very enthralled by this exchange.

Bambi ran a finger down the cleavage between Woodland's man-boobs. "By the way, don't worry," the deer said seductively, "your secret's safe with us!"

Ward's eyes darted to a large mural behind the bar:

THE BOYS' CLUB

"AAAAAHHH!" the sheriff hollered in horror as he turned and ran out the door. Apparently he had gotten this bar mixed up with another one.

Bambi poked his head out the door and screamed after him. "Aw, you know you're curious! If you were actually straight, ya wouldn't be so threatened by me telling ya you were pretty, ya homophobic faggot! Fucking coward!" And he went back inside to cheers and applause from a public proud that their prince had done away with a villain.

-IllI-

Sheriff Woodland kicked in the door as he entered the establishment. "Tom Elkins and Matt Goldthwaite, y'all are both under arrest!"

The patrons and staff of the business looked up at the wolf in confusion.

"I'm… sorry?" asked a brown bear about his own height, wearing glasses, a yarmulke, and a neat light-blue collared shirt with a dark blue tie and a name tag reading "JORDAN".

"Is… is this the bar Elkins and Goldthwaite hang out at? The old sheriff and his deputy?"

Jordan couldn't hide his profound confusion. "Officer… this is a furniture store."

Ward looked around and did indeed see sofas, mattresses, tables, and signs for promotions such as a free teddy bear with the purchase of a full children's bedroom set.

"Since when?"

"Since… my family opened it," the bear answered meekly, "...in 1947…"

Woodland just kept gazing around in bewilderment. "...Huh."

"Yeah, uh… I mean, if you want to look around while we're here, we've got a summer sale going on for outdoor and patio stuff, and we got this year-round thing where you get a free ottoman when you buy an armchair, so…"

"Naw, I'm… I'm good, thanks," said the wolf as he turned and walked out.

Once he was back outside, he looked at the sign above the canopy:

B A E R
FURNITURE

In his defense, the "E" had fallen off, but he could admit it wasn't too hard to read the dark E-shaped smudge it had left in its place.

-IllI-

Sheriff Woodland kicked in the door as he entered the establishment. "Tom Elkins and Matt Goldthwaite, y'all are both under ar-!"

"Ward, are you fucking retarded!? You were here forty-five minutes ago!"

The patrons and staff of Lucky's looked up at the wolf in confusion. Except for the antelope behind the bar; he just looked furious.

Woodland looked around and quickly realized where he was.

"Oh! Uh… sorry, Dick! Um… I was lookin' for someplace else but I guess my brain just took me here, heh... Hey, y'know… it's just one a' those things where ya got so much on yer mind that ya accidentally go ta' the wrong place! Ya ever try drivin' ta' KFC but ya find yerself pullin' into McDonald's just out a' habit-!?"

"Dude, get the FUCK outta here!"

The sheriff left without a word, trying to remember where he was actually looking for.

-IllI-

Sheriff Woodland kicked in the door as he entered the establishment. "Tom Elkins and Matt Goldthwaite, y'all are both under arrest!"

The patrons and staff of the Circle Tap in Omar Square looked up at the wolf in confusion. Most confused of all were an elk and a bobcat sitting in a dark corner. Woodland saw them looking at him, and when they locked eyes they knew there was no getting out of this.

Ward strutted over with a grin as the entire bar looked on in disbelief. They all were surely aware of the protests downtown seeking for these men to be arrested, but not a single person in the room thought anybody on the force would actually do it. Least of all Elkins and Goldthwaite, who had seen absolutely no danger in hiding in plain sight at this bar before Ward showed up.

"The son of a bitch is actually gonna do it," Tom muttered as Ward waltzed over, extracting two pairs of handcuffs.

"My ankle's still fucked up," Matt said to Tom; indeed, the bobcat's foot was in a thick padded brace. "I'm not gonna put up a fight. Are you gonna put up a fight?"

The elk shook his head, which was still throbbing from his recent concussion. "Nah… I'll try my luck in court. I should have some friends there."

"Sounds like a plan."

Woodland reached the table and temporarily turned his smile to a frown. "Thomas Elkins and Matthew Goldthwaite, you two are under arrest for abuse a' power, assaulting a civilian who was also a minor, criminal negligence…" And the wolf's self-impressed smile returned. "And just generally pissin' me off!" He layed a pair of cuffs on the table. "So! Who wants ta' go first!?"

Neither former lawman cared to hesitate. They both placed their hands on the table with no apparent tricks up their sleeves.

Woodland raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" He had certainly been expecting at least a little resistance.

"Naw, man, he might die of a brain aneurysm if he gets his blood pumping and I should probably be on crutches right about now," said Goldthwaite.

"Yeah, we know our limits," added Elkins. "Just don't make a spectacle out of it, alright?"

And that was that. The sheriff cuffed the naughty cops and led them out to his cruiser. There were two or three bar patrons who were police loyalists who protested that Elkins and Goldthwaite had done nothing wrong, but Ward ignored them and sure enough, they didn't do anything. And as he took the two of them straight to the Omar Square precinct, he felt good about his actions. He believed he was indisputably a good person, and if his nephew disagreed, then he could simply go fuck himself.

-IllI-

Nutzinger had to hop off his platform and dodge a thousand stamping feet to find a quiet alleyway when his radio started buzzing.

"The deputy's running away and hiding!" someone shouted. "He's afraid!"

"I'm not afraid, I'm just answering a call!" George shouted back. He extracted his radio and answered. "Nutzinger, what's up?"

"Nutsy! It's yer ol' pal Ward!"

"Yeah, no shit, I'd recognize that accent anywhere. Where are you, man? We could seriously use your presence to scare people away! They're getting ornery!"

"Nutsy… I just did sumpthin'… something you wouldn't ever expect a' me, but sumpthin' good..."

"Did you go to Taco Bell and eat enough food to feed a small Ethiopian village for a week with the express purpose to disperse the crowd by scaring them off with burps and farts that smell worse than death?"

"...Where do you get these ideas about me, Nutsy?"

"I dunno, man, where do you get these mannerisms that inspire these ideas in me, Wardy?"

"I found Elky and Goldy. I have 'em pinned at the Omar Square precinct."

The squirrel almost dropped his radio. "...You did WHAT!?"

"They did something bad, so I arrested them for it! I'm callin' you first, then I'm callin' the local news outlets ta' let 'em know."

"But why would you think that's a good idea!? I was just joking about going home and doing meth, goddamn!"

"Nutsy, I-"

"Have you been injecting heroin directly into your eyeballs!?"

"Nutsy-"

"Have you been cleaning out your ears with Q-tips coated in PCP!?"

"Georgie, listen!"

"Ward, listen to me."

"Yeah?"

"Listen to me, Ward."

"Yeah!?"

"Are you listening?"

"I said yeah!"

"...Have you been drinking paint!?"

"Nutsy, I was of sound mind and body when I made this decision. They're bad guys and they deserved to be did away with."

"I agree they're a couple of shitbags, man, but they've got a lot of powerful friends, dude! Do you know how much of a mess it's gonna cause that the chief-cum-fuckin'-sheriff just arrested the old sheriff and deputy!?"

"WHAT!?"

George's eyes shot to his left, back to the street, where a bunch of citizens were staring in disbelief. In his attempts to scream over the crowd, he hadn't realized quite how loudly he'd been screaming.

"Did we just hear that right!?" asked a golden wolf.

"Woodland arrested Elkins and Goldthwaite?" asked a caracal.

The squirrel blinked at them for a second before turning back to his radio and pressing the button to speak.

"J-just so we're clear, Ward… you're not changing your mind about this?"

"Nope. If nobody else is gonna press charges, I will."

Nutzinger turned back to the crowd and simply said, "Yup."

Within forty-five seconds, the entire crowd had erupted in joy. And although after a few minutes the mood turned again to demanding the former county sheriff and deputy not only be tried but convicted, for a brief moment there, the crowd was cheering something George certainly never thought he'd hear be cheered:

"WoodLAND! WoodLAND! WoodLAND!"

-IllI-

The lion snickered to himself as he looked out the window. The protesters were now holding signs with slogans to the effect of "Now CONVICT Them!" but they were certainly a lot less agitated than they had been two hours prior.

"Oh, they're just never satisfied, are they?" Mayor Norman mused. "But this was a brilliant move, gentlemen. Perhaps we can give them what they want next without sacrificing our power, perhaps we can't, but we've given them enough to make them grateful, now haven't we? Glad I thought of it!"

"Did you seriously just take credit for something that clearly, unambiguously wasn't your idea?" asked Nutzinger, standing on Woodland's shoulder. "That's seriously some poorly-written villain shit. Kills me to say this, but you should at least be giving Captain Assfat here some due credit."

Prince John tried to turn around from the window suavely and coolly; he failed, accidentally putting weight on his own recovering ankle and seething in pain while jostling his top hat off its precarious position on his head.

"But you must recall, Deputy," John began as if nothing unflattering had just happened, "it was my idea to have the county sheriff's office deposed in the first place! So while Eddward here should be proud of himself for building upon my idea… it was still my idea, no?" The lion smirked. "Checkmate, George."

"Well, you brought up a good point about why he shouldn't be so proud of himself!" said George. "If they can somehow prove that they only beat the shit outta that kid because we tricked them into doing it, we are super ultra mega fucked."

"Ah, but the solution to this is simple!" the mayor beamed as he hobbled over to his desk. "We simply need to remind the courts what benefits they'll reap for ruling in our favor! The people seem happier now with Elkins and Goldthwaite out of the picture, do they not? Do you think the courts will really want to risk causing an even bigger scene by having to dispose of us?" He chuckled. "We've altered the status quo enough. Offering to not disrupt it further is incentive enough to get what we want out of any trial, evidence be damned."

"Aw, he's got ya there, Nutsy!" Ward guffawed with a finger pointed at the rodent standing on him.

"Aaand it's not even crossing your mind that there's even a possibility that the judges and jurors might, y'know, not like us enough to do that?" George sneered. "Maybe they might even hate us enough to be willing to screw us over even if that means shaking things up even more? And perish the thought, maybe they'll realize that the common people would be even more pissed if they found out this was a cover-up?"

Norman simply opened a drawer and extracted his checkbook for the sheriff and deputy to see. "I don't collect all that tax money simply to hoard it, Deputy. Money makes the world go round, George, and money is best when well-spent."

Meanwhile, outside in the next room, Charles Hess was sitting at his own reception desk, fuming as he flipped through the pages of a book he was hiding on the floor under his nook. Good news and bad news: the good news was that apparently hypnotism was something that was actually an attainable skill; the bad news was that he had spent all that time and money getting that pocketwatch done up just to find out he didn't even need it. It would have been a nice accessory to have, but it wasn't at all necessary; from the few chapters he'd read so far, he was gathering that you didn't need any fancy gadgets to hypnotize someone, you just needed a firm grasp on the power of persuasion.

The watch thing was genuinely bothering him, not because of the inconvenience in and of itself, but because of what it represented: a waste of precious time. Not even that big of a waste of time, but here we were, a sudden turn of events and now things were looking up for the mayor. This was not what the weasel needed. Prince John having self-confidence would be nothing but an impediment to Hiss's goals. Strong leaders are hard to manipulate.

Maybe this was an opportunity. Maybe this was a wake-up call to start brainstorming other strategies. His original idea was to convince John to make directly self-destructive moves, but maybe there were some more roundabout ways he could get the mayor to slip into his clutches.

Perhaps some external help? Elkins and Goldthwaite surely had a lot of friends still on the force. Maybe coerce a sort of military-versus-government power struggle? Eh, probably too messy, put that one in the maybes pile.

Ooh, what about strengthening the Merry Men to weaken the mayor? Uh... good idea in the abstract, but do you have any specific ideas? Charles sure didn't. The 'put their faces on wanted posters to light a fire under their shared ass' thing had kind of been like that, but now it looked like any momentum they may have gotten had suddenly been negated by the boost to the mayor's approval rating.

...Oh, or how about this: run with Mayor Norman's newfound streak of good fortune… while figuring out ways to weaken the Merry Men. Turn the public back against Prince John by making the whole operation to take out the outlaws look like reckless overkill. Make John attacking the bandits look like Bush bombing the crap out of some third-world country that couldn't fight back. A vulgar display of power. Hm, but how? Again, good big-picture idea, drawing a blank on the fine details. Arguably, the wanted poster idea was also this as its Plan B if its original intended purpose didn't pan out, but as far as he could tell, it was too soon to tell which effect that move had had - if any. Thankfully it was just a throwaway first draft that could be improved upon.

Hess didn't want to be stressing this so badly, but here he was, one instance of sheer dumb luck and it already seemed like his chance had been blown. And whatever he did come up with, he had to be careful not to make Prince John so worthless that he actually lost office, because then it would be all for naught. He had to toe the line and make John Norman someone who was reviled but still kept getting elected - kind of like, well, Bush. Thankfully this wasn't an election year so that wasn't going to be an issue, but it was still something to consider: he couldn't sabotage his boss too well without going down with him.

Not that overhearing him gloat about his self-attributed ideas in the other room didn't make Hiss want to completely ruin him. Having such a narcissistic boss was a blessing and a curse. No man rules alone, so Prince John would always need an underling and a close confidante, if for no other reason than to have as a status symbol, and this left the door open to get closer to him than anybody else could. But damn if it didn't drive him up the wall to have to listen to the boss get all the credit while nobody seemed to notice that the assistant was doing just as much of the driving…

...And just like that, there was an idea. But first he'd need to speed-read the rest of this how-to book.

"Simply put, gentlemen," the mayor continued gleefully, "we have the hearts and minds of the people in our back pockets now, and whatever plans we decide to implement to eviscerate that scourge in Sherwood, the public will be much more likely to come around to our way of thinking now that we have their good graces."

"Please let the record show I never wanted any part of this," Nutzinger grumbled.

"Aw, cheer up, Nutsy! This is good news!" Woodland beamed. "We oughta celebrate! Hey, anybody wanna head to IHOP?"