77. "Rich Kids on LSD (F*** the School Up North), Pt. 2"

By 2005, the post-Columbine metal detectors were long gone from all but the most dangerous American high schools, but the idea that every school in the country would just have armed security by default in perpetuity was one that people had largely come to accept as the new normal. Therefore the Lemon Brook Police Department had Officer Helen Coward stationed indefinitely at their public high school. Her gun was pink; this was meant to be empowering to the girls, and intimidating to the boys, because there's nothing bad men fear more than feminism. The bovine policewoman was friendly enough to the students and staff that she served, and gave the impression that she genuinely cared about their safety and would throw herself in front of them if she needed to. But they still kept her at arm's length - because she was still a cop, and the fact that she'd bothered customizing her weapon seemed to strongly suggest that this accessory lived in the front of her mind. The LBHS family largely agreed that Officer Coward was as willing to dispense a bullet as she was to take one.

Honestly, though, probably none of this is a surprise to most of you, and part of me feels like I should cut the above paragraph and this one explaining it. But then I think to retain it as a courtesy on the off chance that someone who's made it this deep into this violently American story is not actually American, and didn't already know that public schools in the Twenty-First Century United States having real cops with real guns just because was just the way things are here. Y'know, in case you were like one of the main characters of this story.

When Robin rang the bell at the front entrance, he had a character all ready to go. His name was Vinnie Volpe and he was gonna have the most aggressive New York accent you've ever heard in your life. When people in this school heard him talk, they were going to be inundated by visions of the Statue of Liberty and Times Square and bloody brawls with Red Sox fans. He was here with his "business partner", "Bart Berryhill", a second son of a Texas oil tycoon using his inheritance to invest in Vinnie's pizzeria and open new locations up and down the Eastern seaboard, leading them to relocate to Southern Delaware so their wives could be closer to the beaches they were presently sunning at while the boys sought the right schools for their respective sons. And nobody would suspect that the fox wasn't even from this continent. This was gonna be a piece of cake.

Officer Coward was the only one in the office at the time; the principal and administrators were on-call in case of emergency, but otherwise, the building was ninety percent empty and there was no pressing need for them to be there. Helen heard the bell and checked the cameras. On the screen, she saw two gentlemen who were very smartly dressed and two boys who were… well, they were dressed some sort of way, alright. She pressed the intercom button.

"How can I help you?"

"We're here for a school visit!" Johnny answered, trying to sound less like J. R. Cash and more like J. R. Ewing.

"...Meet me in the office, I'll check you in." And with that, she pressed the buzzer to unlock the door.

Ah, this was gonna be great. They were gonna leave here with archery supplies for freedom-fighters of all sizes, not just themselves but anybody who might join them. Hey, having weapons ready for any new members could be a very useful recruitment tactic! With the good harbingers of Marian's return and a young kit somewhere out there, could this be the beginning of a renaissance for the Merry Men of Sherwood Forest Nature Preserve? Hey, a man can dream. Robin didn't have to fake a smile as he approached the cow cop. Time to put on an accent that Big Apple guidos couldn't even be offended by because it was just so accurate.

"Eyyy, how's it goin' offisaOH MY GOD!"

Four and a half words and he slipped back into his native dialect. What had spooked him so badly to completely forget his lines? Why, the sight of that hot-pink pistol and holster on Officer Coward's person, the vibrant color almost radiating from her black-and-navy-blue uniform.

Johnny was alarmed by Robin uncharacteristically freaking out. Ed was alarmed by Robin uncharacteristically freaking out. Eddy was alarmed by Robin uncharacteristically freaking out. Helen was also alarmed by this stranger freaking out, and found it highly suspicious.

"Sir, are you… alright?" she asked, as concerned for him as she was skeptical of him. "...And British?"

Shit, she'd picked up on that. Well, no turning back now.

"Ah, yesyes, I'm quite alright, Officer, I just… wasn't expecting to be greeted by a policewoman with a, er… bright… pink… gun…"

Cop logic: if a civilian got scared at the sight of an officer, they were doing something wrong and they knew it, and therefore should be treated as a suspect. A Supreme Court case five years prior affirmed that this was how they were supposed to think. "Why does that worry you?"

"Oh, oh, it doesn't, it doesn't! It was just… surprising!" Well, he wasn't lying. He was trying to be his usual charming-Englishman self, but that was tough to do when he could barely get the words out.

'Bart' swooped in to save him: "And what a mighty fine piece it is, ma'am! As a connoisseur of firearms myself," he said with a smile and a nod, almost winking too but deciding that would be too much.

The cow was immune to the magic spells they were trying to cast, but she remained cordial all the same, respecting that they were at least making an effort to be polite and courteous. "Why, thank you."

"Forgive me, ma'am," Robin resumed, "I've just never… seen any sort of, er, armed guards in a school like this. Can't say we do that back in England!" Hey, as long as he was married to the bit now.

She chuckled and tried to enchant them right back. "Well, maybe if you did, your schools would be safer!"

crashed as he had absolutely no idea whether this woman was joking. He blinked and smiled dumbly through a second of awkward silence as he weighed whether she'd be offended by him ignoring the remark altogether.

Thankfully, Johnny always had his back. "But yeah, we were here to tour the school and see whether it was fit for our boys here!" He patted the cub on the back and gestured to the kit. "My family and his both just moved here to expand our joint business venture; heard it's pretty good for a public institution, but is it still better than payin' fer that private prep'atory school we've heard such good things about? Ah, what was it called?"

It was called the Redden Academy, of course, but Officer Coward saw no reason to say so out loud. Nor did she follow the outlaws' expectations and interrogate them on what kind of business it was or where the boys' moms were.

"...Moved here from where? Texas and…" She looked down at the fox; he was smaller than her and therefore easier to browbeat. "...what, England?"

"Oh, no no no, that's where I'm from originally, but we met and started our partnership in New York!"

Her face scrunched as she pondered that. "Is that why you sounded like you were talking in some New York accent when you first walked in?"

"Precisely!" Her browbeating was actually working, thanks in part to the unexpected handgun. "Linguistic osmosis and all that! You just pick things up!"

She nodded as she puzzled over him; she no longer thought he was guilty of major crimes, but she still had her reservations about him. The fact that he was probably wasn't helping, nor did the fact that Hollywood had taught her that his accent was to be associated with villainy. And there was one more thing about him that was just so incongruous that she needed to address it.

"...How tall are you?" she asked with a wince.

Four words he'd heard his whole life. But with some quick thinking, he could parlay this into an opportunity to convince her that he was filthy rich and therefore trustworthy. "Ah, let's just say that before our budding restaurant empire, I made my initial fortune as a basketball player! And that's how I wound up in New York!"

This did indeed succeed at making her curious. "Oh! Uh… what team?"

"That'd be the small-mammal club of the New York Jets, ma'am!"

"HRM!" Johnny cleared his throat to throw his friend a bone. "Nets!"

"Oh, er, excuse me, the Mets!"

"HRM, NETS, HRM!" the bear corrected again.

"Ah, yesyesyes, the New York Nets!"

Officer Coward was suspicious all over again. "The… Nets play in New Jersey." (Thankfully she didn't look up to see Johnny's eyes rolling out of his head as it shook in mortification.)

"But that's right, they did, didn't they! Ah, you see, I never paid much attention to the details, it was merely a job for me! Something friends and family encouraged me to pursue for my physical attributes, turned out I was good at it, one thing led to another, and all of a sudden, the money was too good to pass up!"

Saved it. She actually seemed to buy that. "Eh, I've heard about a few pro athletes who only played for the money. But, uh… I asked about the height thing because… um…"

The cow pointed at the fox kit who was hardly half his 'father's' stature. All of the boys were floored that she actually went there, especially Eddy himself. And I think it's about time to talk about how he was dressed and the persona he was set to play.

He was wearing an Allen Iverson 76ers jersey, a white-on-green printed bandana, and Jordans you couldn't actually see thanks to JNCO jeans that were already out of fashion by that point. Oh, and don't forget the gold chain. The wacky shit you find at the thrift shop, man. When he first selected these clothes, Robin and Johnny protested that it was a stupid decision when they were trying to look wealthy. But Eddy had made a really good point: when a rich kid can have everything they want, what do they want after that? They wanna roleplay as a poor kid. Granted, a poor kid who still has the money to buy things that people who grew up amid inner-city blight would want, but think about it. Kids that age want to bitch and moan about all their problems, including rich kids who certainly have some problems of their own but not as many as their impoverished counterparts. They then magnify these problems to the point that they think they can genuinely relate to the people on the other side of town; in their heads, their parents not letting them blare hip-hop is tantamount to all the political and economic oppression poor people face. And then - wait for it - these rich kids think they are 'ghetto'. And then they wind up dressed like Eddy was that day in that vestibule.

Plus, Eddy remembered how his brother was those first few years after he'd struck gold in scheming and scamming; he dressed as the nineties equivalent of how Eddy was dressed here, and there were photos somewhere of him donning White Sox caps and T.W.A. t-shirts to prove it. When he was as old as Eddy was now, the older brother was mourning the death of 2Pac months before; he didn't move onto his ska phase until high school.

The adults agreed. It was genius. And it actually matched his father's 'improv' quite well.

"Well, I mean…" Officer Coward tread carefully, "...I guess the basketball jersey lines up if his dad was a player, but he doesn't…look…"

"Whaddaya tryna say!?" Eddy snapped at her. Thankfully he was cosplaying as a rich kid who could mouth off to a cop without consequence and damn well knew it, so that tracked, though that was not at all in his mind when he got snippy. "You callin' me a midget!?"

"I'm saying you don't look like a high-schooler."

"And that's one of the things I'll be looking for!" Robin declared. "A school that will teach him that intangible skill of character, something he'll need, especially at his age, to learn to accept that he was dealt a bad genetic hand and took after his petite mother. Even as a large member of a small species, I'm all too aware of the sheer hell short-statured men receive."

"...Why doesn't he sound British, though?"

"I was born over here!" the kit snapped.

"His mom's from Kansas!" added Robin.

The cow kept scrutinizing Eddy like he was a painting in the Louvre, but eventually decided that everything checked out. "Well, you definitely dress like you're from New York… but is that a New York thing, too?"

She was pointing at Ed, and… hoo boy, yeah, full disclosure, I've been avoiding this. Because it's just so goddamn stupid, I'm tempted to lie just to make the account more believable. But… we shouldn't shy away from the truth, now should we?

Alright. So. We all know that Ed likes cheesy horror movies, right? Like, a lot? Like, a lot a lot? More than anything else? Cool, cool, so, um… when the guys were all kicking around Goodwill, Ed saw a t-shirt for a horrorcore hip-hop duo known for dressing as demonic circus performers - no, no, Dear Reader, stay with me, stay with me here, I'm not making this up, I swear to God, I swear to fucking God, I don't think this is funny enough for me or anybody to be making this up. Remember… this was 2005.

Anyway. Ed wanted the shirt immediately. He didn't even know they were a band, Rob and Johnny sure as shit didn't know who the hell these people were, but Eddy did. And he elucidated them on the act's infamy and how their diehard fans would costume up just to go to 7-Eleven - and how their support base was overwhelmingly suburban teenagers who didn't know better. At first, the other three all agreed it was way too out-there, but Ed really the spooky circus shirt, and then he made a good point: why did Eddy get to dress up like a wannabe gangsta if he didn't get to dress up as something barely any more ridiculous? And for essentially the same logic? And then it all just made too much sense. Hey, they were hanging out with a five-foot fox, refuge in audacity was always their best bet when fully blending in was never really an option. Eddy almost got the entire heist called off when he callously quipped that Ed was definitely stupid enough to pass for a fan of this band, but he was pressured by the adults into apologizing and the operation was ready to proceed. Oh, and also the thrift store was selling stuff that Spirit Halloween never sold the previous October, which included children's face-fur paint kits, and, uh…

"What are… you supposed to be?" Officer Coward was almost afraid to ask.

"I AM INSANE!" Ed hollered as he turned his blackened-and-whitened face upwards and threw his arms in the air.

"Aw, ain't we all at his age, though?" Johnny said with a chuckle, putting an arm around the cub. "He likes that rap group where they dress up like clowns. Some'll disagree, but I think it's important to let kids that age rebel just a little bit, y'know? They're gonna wanna one way or another, let 'em get it outta their system! Hey, when I was his age, I was listenin' to outlaw country like Merle, Willie, and Waylon, and I didn't grow up to be a highwayman!"

Good answer; Helen was just as ignorant of the fact that the outlaw country subgenre wasn't exclusively about glorifying a criminal lifestyle as she was of the fact that the bruin before her did actually grow up to be a literal highwayman.

"...Alright," she finally said. "You guys have an appointment? Come on into the office, I'll check you in."

Just like that, they were one step closer. In they followed. Showing a deference to larger species, the cow gave the elder bear a clipboard with a sheet of paper and tethered pen.

"So if you can write down your names and the time you checked in."

"Gladly!" Johnny said as he accepted it and wrote his alias on a blank line.

Meanwhile, the officer dug into a desk to pull out a quartet of guest passes - along with a curveball to throw them. "And then I just need to take photos of you and scan your state IDs."

Whoa, there. Neither of them knew that part was coming. Hey, cut them some slack, they hadn't exactly visited a school recently. Panic showed on both the bandit's faces for a moment before they could mask it; hopefully it simply seemed like innocent surprise.

"Oh, you lot… really do take precautions here!" Robin said to buy themselves some time.

"Well… yeah, of course," Helen shrugged, "it's a school."

But the fox threw enough of a block to give the bear a chance to throw a Hail Mary. "Aw, y'know, the guy we were talkin' to who works here, said he'd meet us here, he… he told us it'd be lickety-split to get in here in the summertime, just sign our names and go," said Johnny. "Hell, what was his name? Somethin' like… Sam or Steve or… or Shawn maybe-"

"Wait, Steve?" the policewoman interrupted. "Y-you mean… Stefan? Stefan… Bulley?"

Mr. Bulley was the furthest thing from a bully. He was a biology teacher who knew the way to Helen's heart in more ways than one. Not that he realized it, though.

And the guys could see it in her eyes. They knew they'd just scratched their ticket hoping for twenty bucks and just won two hundred. Time to milk it. (Uh - pardon the expression.)

"Oh, is that how you say it? With an F sound!? Yeah, that sounds familiar!" Robin declared.

"H-how do you know him?"

"He's my new neighbor!" said Johnny. "Told me the cop at the front desk was a sweetheart who wouldn't give us a hard time."

"I want him to be my teacher!" Ed beamed to boost their chances. "I'd hate school less if he was in it!"

The officer's cheeks were burning. "He… said he'd meet you here?"

"To show us around!" said Robin.

"...I don't think he teaches a class over the summer, though-"

"He said he'd come in for the day," said Johnny, "said we could just meet him at his classroom if we got here first, said nobody would mind."

Helen was quiet as she contemplated whether she valued living up to her crush's expectations of her over the formalities of her job. Then Robin made up her mind for her.

"By the way, ma'am, we never did get your name," he said warmly. "We'd like to tell Mr. Bulley you were just as kindly as he said you were."

After a moment of hesitance, she extended a hooved hand for a shake. "Officer Helen Coward, Lemon Brook Police Department."

Robin held up his plastered arm. "Ah, pardon my rudeness, but I shouldn't-"

"Oh! I'm sorry, no, you're good-"

"But… Coward, you said?" the transatlantic tod asked slyly. "Any relation to the great English playwright Noël Coward? That wordsmith who did an excellent job of painting just what was so good about a life of opulence?"

These guys were going to send Stefan a good word, and they were fancy enough to know about theater of all things. She felt certain that they were safe.

"Ah, I… can't say I know if there's a connection there!" she giggled, thoroughly beguiled. "Um… and your name, sir?"

Fuck.

Robin couldn't use 'Vinnie Volpe' now that he was using his real voice. There weren't any bloody Italians in England! The irony was that if he had just not asked her name, she was never going to ask theirs. But now he had to come up with something. C'mon, Robin, c'mon, think, think, think of a name, think of a name, think of any name. Any name besides Robert, John, or Edward. Or William. Go on, Robin, just pick the first name you can think of.

"Robert Scarlett, and the pleasure is mine!"

…Robin, dude, come on, I said don't pick the name - actually, know what, this was okay actually. This way if she Googled that name, she might not get a retired pro basketball player, but she'd certainly find a monstrously rich and monstrously tall English fox who looked almost exactly like an aged-up version of himself.

"And what's your son's name?"

Fuck, Volume II. The plan to call the kit Vinnie, Jr., would make no sense now. Thankfully Eddy realized that, but he wasn't sure whether he should come up with a name for himself or if Robin wanted to come up with one for him. To his credit, though, the kit had a long history of committing crimes in his own right, so he knew how to improvise fairly decently.

"Ummm, uh… m-my G's call me Big Playa, know wha' I'm sayin', mah tizzle!?"

"...I don't, actually," the cop said very evenly.

"Oh, er…!" Okay, Robin, unless you wanna break your own heart, think of a name for the son of one Robert Scarlett that isn't Will, Billy, or anything even close to William. "...His name is Liam!"

…Y'know what, fuck it, whatever. Most people don't even realize those are the same name. That'll do, sure, fine, mmhmm.

Officer Coward offered a handshake to the elder bear. "And you, sir?"

Fu- wait, wait, no, Robin's planned character had no bearing on Johnny's, they were good here.

"Bart Berryhill, pleasure ta' make yer acquaintance!" he said with a big but deliberately loose shake.

"Officer Coward, nice to meet a friend of Mister Bulley's," she replied with a faint anxious giggle, instantly regretting saying so much. "A-and your boy here?"

The bigger bruin put an arm around the other. "Aw, this here is Baltimore!"

"...Baltimore?"

Johnny nodded proudly. "Name runs in my family. Got it from his grampa and his uncle!" And not a mistruth in there.

"Um… oh! That's… cute! Um. Well, Baltimore, I sure hope you and your-" She leaned in to squint at Ed's shirt. "-posse like what you see in this school! Now, uh, did you want me to show you around the school until Stefan gets here, or-?"

"Oh, no, please don't trouble yourself!" Robin said with a laugh. "You're too imperative to this school's safety, we'd never ask you to abandon your post just to be our tour guide!"

"Ol' boy actually said we were welcome to post up in his homeroom until he got here," added Johnny. "If you'd just be kind enough ta' remind us what room number that is-"

"Oh! Two-oh-three, if I remember right!" the cow beamed, eager to help friends of her senpai. "Just up the stairs, hang a right, just around the corner on the left!"

"Officer, you've been an invaluable help," Robin smiled.

Helen frowned. "I haven't been valuable?"

…He did not have time to explain the English language to her. "Ah, my apologies, I misspoke! You've been a very valuable help! We'll see ourselves out now, if that's alright with you!"

"Oh, sure, sure! A-and put in a good word with Stefan for me!"

"Aw, we'll be puttin' in a lot more than just one word!" Johnny chuckled as he waved and led the quartet out of the office. "Thanks for everything!"

The cop didn't say anything, just laughing embarrassedly to herself.

"I am from the carnival of DOOM! WHOOP WHOOP!" were Ed's parting words, and then they were gone.

They followed the directions given to give the initial impression of being who they said they were; once they were up the stairs, Eddy had some forward words for his fellow vulpine.

"What the hell was that!?"

"What was what?" asked the Englishman.

"That little freak-out there when we met the guard! I thought you were Mister Calm Cool and Collected! What, ya never seen a gun before?"

"That was admittedly kinda weird, Rob," added Johnny. "That wasn't like you, ya almost had me freaking out about you freaking out, like you were seein' somethin' I wasn't seein'."

"I've seen plenty of real guns before," Robin hissed back, playing up his indignance to mask his embarrassment. "Just not in a bloody school!"

"Yeah, but you were so surprised by it, you'd think she just whipped her udders out!" said Eddy.

"I haven't exactly been in an American high school recently, I have a damn good reason to be surprised by that. And that the bloody thing was pink!"

You know what? Ed wanted to say something too. "Am I a good evil clown?"

"You're the best, kiddo," the older bear said as he put an arm around the cub and patted his far shoulder. "...But Rob, dude, I-I'm just sayin', not even tryna be mean… you've been in this country for over a decade, man, even if you weren't expecting it, I'd think you wouldn't be that shocked by it."

Robin just rolled his eyes. "Talk about something being violently American…"

-IllI-

Ooh de lally, what kind of crazy shenanigans are our favorite foxes and bears gonna get into this time!? Well, we'll get there, folks, but first, earlier we finally had the chance to meet some examples of the types of voters who would genuinely support "Prince" John Norman as their mayor. And now, we finally have a chance to answer another question you've all been asking: is this shithole of a city a fucking dictatorship or are there other people running this town? And is there nobody at all attempting to defy him from the inside!?

Well good golly, Miss Molly, I am glad you asked! I want to take you to one of the balconies on the backside of City Hall, where one could have found two gentlemen doing exactly that, attempting to defy him from the inside - emphasis on attempting, but nevertheless doing more than most and trying their best to make use of the power they had. And who exactly were these two rebels opposing the cowardly lion? Alright, so I want you to picture it: there's a red fox, and there's a brown bear, and - wait for it - they're friends. Betcha never heard that one before. Hey, I've told you time and time again, Dear Reader, a fox and a bear make a great pair isn't just a stupid cutesy rhyme, it's a fact of life.

That said, to give you a little more of a visual, these two were each of more average size and stature for their respective species instead of both being bona-fide behemoths. And these two were also much safer into middle-age territory to the point that nobody would call them young. But that's about how long it takes to make it in politics.

"What, so they intentionally gave the guy a pen with no ink in it to psych him into thinking he was safe just to renege on him?" City Councilman Cletus "Clete" Cunningham asked before taking a drag off of his cigarette.

"No, I don't think they thought that far ahead," answered Councilman Bill Karhunen before taking a puff of his own. "I think they just… I think they just changed their mind and found a convenient way out."

"Who's even they in this case?"

"I dunno, guy, that's just what I heard," the bear said as he tapped his square on the railing, wispy ashes snowing to the street. "The idea that they got lucky sounds slightly less absurd than the idea that they planned it this way."

"I'd resign if I didn't think this city would be even worse off without us," said the fox, very much needing the nicotine to calm his nerves.

"Ain't that the truth…"

They were quiet for a moment before Clete had a thought he figured he should say. "Fine. Next cycle, you run, just you, I won't."

Bill was so blindsided by this that he physically did a double-take. "Where is this coming from?"

"We gotta consolidate at some point, aaand I think people are more likely to elect a Bill than a Clete."

The bear winced and chuckled. "Well, it's political acumen like that that makes me swallow my pride and say that you'd be better suited for it!"

The fox forced a nasal chuckle and half-rolled his eyes. "And then neither of us run because we're too modest and the son of a gun wins again by plurality."

"Hey, nobody can accuse us of being in this line of work for selfish reasons!"

The two of them chuckled, but a check of their watches told them that they needed to wrap their pre-meeting commiseration up soon.

"Ah, can't be late to a grievance session we're hosting," Clete murmured as he and Bill extinguished their cigarettes on the balcony's headed back into the office. They could just as easily have simply flicked their squares off over the railing, but that wasn't their style. There were people walking by down there.

The duo especially didn't want to be late because they had been the ones pushing for this conference to happen as soon as it did. City Council was only scheduled for a couple times a month, but an emergency session could be called and held whenever it was deemed necessary, and this was one of those times. It began with Cunningham and Karhunen making phone calls and sending emails to their colleagues on Saturday morning after news broke of both Mayor Norman getting arrested outside of his jurisdiction for trespassing at the beach after sundown and of Sheriff Woodland going rogue and arresting a comedian. Then the news broke of some drama happening at the horse races up at Club Milton Park that tangentially involved them and the fox and bear got a lot more pushy with their fellow council members who weren't answering their messages. They finally got enough people to confirm the special session for midday that Monday, but the reason it wasn't happening first thing in the morning was because it was only then that Clete and Bill finally received substantial replies to their inquiries.

In they walked to the cavernous meeting room, not the fancy one with a seating layout like the one used for public meetings that the press would spectate, but the less-opulent one meant for discussions truly not meant for all eyes and ears. It was minimalist and outdated, but it got the job done, with a large whiteboard and projector screen at the front and a perpendicular table long enough that you could comfortably have a Last Supper on each side at once. Each seat had a label bearing the name of the council member and the constituency they represented, one for each of the two-dozen or so Community Areas of the city, along with size-appropriate adjustable chairs, of course. And at the farthest end, with the biggest chair, was the spot reserved for the council's ringleader, the City Manager, the one who presided and decided what conclusions the group came to.

Oh, and the chair wasn't just huge because of the stature of the position. Actually, its current owner had inherited it from when her mom used it in the mayor's office upstairs. Thankfully, however, while Mayor Andrea Jane Oliphant had to deal with a City Hall that was clearly built just assuming that a pachyderm would never hold significant office there, she set in motion a retrofitting project that ensured that her posterity could use the space comfortably.

As such, you couldn't hear Alexis's footsteps thundering down the hallway because the hallway was specifically soundproofed to prevent such a thing. The door opened and all turned to see the elephant walk in, the only child of many Mayor Andrea wanted but never found the time to have. Already a young adult at the time of her mother's passing, she was old enough to accept a favor repaid come the next election cycle when the man her mom willed as her successor, the strapping, handsome, charming, and not-at-all-bogged-down-by-mommy-issues young English lion, successfully campaigned to voters to make Alexis the councilwoman for the downtown Old Millsboro district; by the time Richard graduated to Washington, Alexis had graduated to being the boss of City Council. While the younger Oliphant did want to follow in her mom's political footsteps, she'd also witnessed firsthand how much of a fuss the office of Mayor was, personally viewing the stress of the job as a major contributor to Andrea's fatal heart attack (in the very same elephantine chair she bequeathed her daughter, funnily enough… wait a minute, what the fuck? Alexis is using that thing!?). Therefore the city manager was perfectly content with her position - which, after all, was essentially the head of the check that balanced the mayor's power. And she had an agreement with the Norman Brothers that as long as any of them were in power, they'd do what they could to help each other retain their elected positions for as long as they wanted them. Two decades in, so far, so good.

Alexis took a seat at the end of the head of the table in the chair that this narrator was much less sketched out by two paragraphs ago. She gave the room a formal nod, and all the members who could be troubled to show up that day nodded in kind.

"Good morning," she greeted them that afternoon, very unenthusiastically; "thank you for coming today. Let's not waste anymore time: Councilmen Cunningham and Karhunen from, uh, Harbeson North and Phillips Hill, respectively, have called us for a special assembly. Gentlemen, if you'd like to present?"

They would have liked to present, but something wasn't right. They glanced across the table to one another, each hoping the other had an idea to stall for time.

The bear took a stab at it. "Actually, I, uh… think we have a few more minutes for people to trickle in-"

"Actually, Bill, it's…" The elephant checked her watch. "...Hm. Apologies for my tardiness, council members, it actually seems to be a few minutes part the hour. But in any case, sirs, please, proceed-"

"Oh! But, uh…" the fox interrupted, "there's someone we were hoping would be able to join us who isn't here yet, so if we could give them a few more-"

"This is an unscheduled meeting taking time out of our busy days, Clete," the city manager said with a notable uptick in forwardness. "I think I speak for all of us when I say we'd rather you didn't waste that time dawdling. Now please, proceed."

The two allies shared another glance, wondering whether they had a choice. They silently concluded that they didn't.

Karhunen pointed to the presentation space. "Uhhh, didja wanna… go up there, or-?"

"I don't think we need to," answered Cunningham, opting instead to climb up and stand on the table; because he was a normal-sized red fox and not a certain limey bastard we all know, he was small enough for this to not be considered inappropriate behavior. "Ladies and gentlemen of the City Council, Bill and I believe it's time to remove Mayor Norman from power-"

This call to action was immediately met with a chorus of groans, shirt sleeves rustling as arms folded, and at least a few palms hitting foreheads.

But it wasn't all of their colleagues. So we were listening. Some were nodding. Some were impressed by such a bold statement. Alas, one thing they weren't was hopeful.

"Argue your case," Oliphant said calmly.

Clete looked around the room. "I mean… is there anybody here who's somehow ignorant of what transpired over the weekend?"

"Heck," added Bill, "it started before the weekend with him getting arrested in Rehoboth Beach for trespassing on the beach after closing!"

"Oh, that's not a crime…" scoffed Andrew Oxford, representing the affluent Oak Orchard neighborhood.

"It is literally a crime, guy! That's why he got arrested!"

"No, no it isn't," the ox shook his head. "He didn't rape or murder anybody, he didn't destroy property, now those are crimes. Those are…" A pause to think of the right word. "...those are legitimate crimes."

Clete's mouth was hanging open, momentarily speechless before he found his tongue again. "...You think that isn't a real crime just because it's a victimless crime!?"

"VICTIMLESS crime!" Oxford echoed with a clap of hooved hands and an exclamatory finger in the air. "THAT'S the word I was looking for! Thank you, Clete."

"Clete, don't help him out…" the bear begged the fox exhaustedly.

"Yipe, sorry-"

"No, please do help us out without hesitance!" said Oxford. "Because right off the bat, the majority of us already think this motion is utterly insipid. You're just using this as a chance to get him out of office because you don't like him!"

The majority did indeed grumble in agreement. The duo were dumbfounded.

"W-well what did you think was the motion we were tryna pass when we called you here!?" demanded Karhunen.

"Something sane, like an idea to divert attention until the heat does down!" said Angelo Stinco, skunk representing the mixed-income Zoar Park. "You two really think removing him from power wouldn't create even more of a mess!?"

"You know what?" said the fox. "Maybe, maybe for a time. But a short time, a finite time! Whereas John Boy's chaos could go on forever unabated if we don't curtail it, don't act like this is an isolated incident!"

Indeed, Dear Reader, you may be wondering, hold up, doesn't this stupid city have term limits? An excellent question! Nope. Nottingham was originally founded as the small town of Millsboro, whose framers never in a million years expected it to be anything close to a big city with big-city problems like corruption and attempted monarchy. The success of the Fertile Crescent and subsequent investment into and renaming of the city by investors from the English Midlands was a complete and utter blindside, and every following generation in power was having too much fun enjoying the prosperity to ever find the time to remedy that oversight - and that was assuming they didn't plainly see it as a feature rather than a bug.

Councilwoman Laura Pinz of the middle-class Clarksville on the southeast side crossed her arms and scowled. "Well, with a little more than a year until the next election, it sure seems awfully convenient of a time to propose shaking things up and forcing a vacancy of office."

"Is that really what you think this is about!?" Clete challenged.

"It is," John Ott of Belltown, perhaps the wealthiest neighborhood in the city tucked away in the far northeastern corner abutting suburban Lewes and Rehoboth Beach, stated plainly with a firm nod. "You're politicians. You wouldn't be in this game if you weren't in it for the power!"

"Well then by that logic, we should accuse you of the same thing!" Bill roared, pointing at the otter before pointing at the porcupine, then the skunk, and so on. "A-and you, and you! How can you accuse us of that when we're in the same boat!?"

"So y'know what?" added Clete; in his growing frustration, his Southern twang was becoming much more pronounced. "Fine, embrace that! We know we ain't just in it to take his job, but if all y'all wanna project your inner feelings onto us… fine! If y'all need to see this as an opportunity for y'all to get the power y'all want, then take it! If we gotta turn this into a truce that every single one of us here uses this as a chance to run for mayor next year and we're all on an equal playing field, fine by me! Whatever might-can get that British nut outta power."

But "Old John" simply folded his hands on the table and gave a sage blank stare. "Actually, gentlemen, by this point in my career, I'm quite comfortable with what I have."

And many of his colleagues murmured in agreement, either in complete earnestness or something close enough that it did even feel like lying.

No, no, it's not what you're thinking - not exactly, anyway. Prince John's allies weren't all on his private payroll. Many of them didn't need to be after the younger Norman brother, early in his career, passed a law that tied a council member's salary to the mean income of the neighborhood they served, reps of the wealthiest areas getting paychecks nearing the mayor's, nominally to incentivize them to foster prosperity in their communities (one can imagine, however, that the money going into their paychecks wasn't always necessarily from their own district's taxpayer base). Those from less well-to-do areas who didn't benefit from this law were known to receive "congratulatory gifts" from the mayor not only when they got elected and reelected, but also whenever they did anything even remotely of note such as inaugurating a new fast-food joint or reading to kids at the library. And those from middle brackets simply gained from a little bit of both. So while most of them would indeed jump at the chance to themselves be mayor in the abstract, between increased stress and responsibility, barely any increase in pay, and the pressure to spoil those below them just as Prince John had, all of them would have to genuinely struggle with the question of whether their quality of life would actually be improved if they took the job.

"Councilmen," Alexis warned, "I'm going to have to ask you to control yourselves. It's good that you're passionate, but your behavior is very much pushing the limits of the professionalism expected of two men of your positions."

And the expected group of naysayers all expressed agreement with the elephant.

Clete Cunningham and Bill Karhunen knew their audience; they were anticipating pushback and had rebuttals in their pocket at the ready. But neither of them had expected the pushback to be so immediate, so forceful, and so blatant. It was hard to debate when your opponent is essentially just telling you to go fuck yourself; call them naïve, but after the wild weekend of Mayor Norman and company making egregious faux pas, the fox and bear had been expecting their colleagues to at least hear them out before trying to shut them down.

And they were doing this all shorthanded because someone who had promised to make a guest appearance to back them up apparently just up and flaked on them, I guess - oh, wait, wait. Wait. No, narrator's jinx, she's here now.

Knock knock knock.

Well, okay, technically it was her bodyguard at the door, but she was right behind along with her assistant, so it still counts.

"Oh, hey!" Clete called to the door. "Come in!"

"Who is this?" the city manager asked skeptically as the enormous tiger walked in first.

"This, Miz Oliphant, is my bodyguard, Ryan," the doe narrated as she walked in once her guard deduced that it was safe to do so. Doty then gestured to the mongoose following her. "And this is my assistant, Krupa. Don't mind them, they come with me everywhere. They're my Rocky and Charles, if you will, but less awkward to be around."

"Commissioner Roe!" Alexis begrudgingly greeted with minimal enthusiasm. "Our apologies, Councilmen Cunningham and Karhunen didn't tell me the three of you would be coming, I would have fetched you chairs had I known-"

"It's quite alright," the Nottingham County commissioner insisted, equally unenthused to see the city manager. "And I apologize for my tardiness… I had an engagement in the western suburbs and we tried to cross into the city on surface streets before getting onto your mother's highway to avoid congestion in Cherry Stream… only to find a bunch of streets blocked… for the Venezuelan festival from the weekend that was never cleaned up… supposedly because cleanup isn't in the budget… which is the same reason said street festival never even happened, because it was canceled to save costs after people realized we don't even have a substantial Venezuelan population in this town…"

She was saying this to the entire room, except for the your mother's highway part which was specifically for the younger Oliphant - and all the words she emphasized, which just so happened to be stressed when she looked in the way of Adalberto "Bert" Sandoval, councilman for Hardscrabble, second only to Hermosa Park for the most impoverished part of the city and the location for the abandoned festival.

"...Why are you looking at me like that?" asked the coyote. "Is it because I'm Hispanic!? So it's my job to tell the guy that there's a difference between a Mexican and a Venezuelan?"

"No, Councilman Sandoval, it's because, if I understand correctly, the festival was set to take place in your jurisdiction, sir, and between your knowledge of how mercurial Mayor Norman can be and the demographics of your own area…" The doe paused and considered something. "...actually, yes, I'm saying it was your job to tell him that the entire city only numbered forty-seven people who reported Venezuelan ancestry in the 2000 Census, yes."

"What was that about Mercury?" Clete whispered to Bill.

"I… don't… know," Bill confessed.

"Commissioner Roe," City Manager Oliphant spoke up again, "I understand your frustration, but if you've come here solely to air your grievances with Councilman Sandoval, perhaps it would have been better to do so privately-"

"No, that's not the only reason I'm here, and I think you know that," Doty retorted. "Though I do bring it up as one of many examples of the man's… well, I hesitate to say incompetence because frankly, I think writing him off as an idiot is doing ourselves a disservice, not taking seriously the threat that he poses."

"So you're here to convince us to evacuate his office just like Bill and Clete tried to do?" asked Councilwoman Pinz, hands folded and unimpressed eyebrow raised.

"Please don't waste your energy, ma'am, we've already shut that down," added Councilman Oxford. "I'd say that ship has sailed, but it's more that it sank before making it out of the harbor. Perhaps even while it was still tied to the dock!"

"Well, Andrew, I'd love to hear your poetry some other time, but for now, we have a madman to discuss and I have new information that Bill and Clete weren't privy to," the county commissioner scowled.

She had to clap back just a little; she had nervous energy she needed to get out of her system, and in her line of work, it's better to let those nerves manifest as anger than as fear. But her anxiety wasn't unfounded. Doty Roe was as tied up in John Norman's bullshit as anybody, and pulling the rug out from under him posed a very real chance that she'd be pulling it out from under herself as well. But what was giving her the courage to speak out against him anyway?

Quite frankly, it was the fact that she doubted this would work anyway.

"Do tell," Alexis challenged.

"...So… for those not paying attention to the news… somehow… in the last - what? Seventy-two hours? A man was arrested, initially let go with the charges dropped, and is now on the hook again after John changed his mind for the crime of criticizing-"

"What, is this about the comedian!?" asked Stinco. "He wanted nothing to do with that! That was his head policeman making an executive decision!"

"Something leaders do, Doty," added Pinz, "something I'm not so sure you know anything about."

The deer was going through the same process that the fox and bear had a few minutes prior, doing all she could to keep her cool upon realizing that these naysayers were playing hardball even harder than she'd been anticipating. "Laura, if I wasn't a leader, I wouldn't be brave enough to step into a room full of people in the mayor's pocket and call upon you to do the right thing and dismiss him."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you!" the skunk scoffed; his allies snickered in agreement.

Doty had no more of a witty comeback than she had time to screw around; she ignored them. "This isn't about me. This is about the fact that this man has that lunatic heading his police and he's pretending to denounce his decisions before cosigning on them when nobody's looking-"

"I apologize for my interruption," Councilman Ott interrupted unapologetically, "but… isn't Chief Woodland - now Sheriff Woodland - someone you helped to further empower? You call him a lunatic, did you feel that way about him mere weeks ago when you agreed to merge the departments? Or are you just now coming to feel this way about him and you want to blame your buyer's remorse on him?"

More chattering in agreement with the old otter.

She knew that was coming eventually. But she was prepared. The doe took a deep breath through her nose before continuing. "Funny you should say that, sir, because that's part of the reason I ultimately decided to bring this all up to you. The fact of the matter is that I was never the most keen on the idea of merging departments, but Mayor Norman was insistent-"

"In other words, you weren't a strong leader and were easily puppeted," the porcupine pressed.

"...As I was saying, John was driving a hard bargain to give the county government a chance to save face after Elkins and Goldthwaite embarrassed us. So yes, I took it and now see that was a poor decision. But I'm brave and confident enough as a leader (ahem!) to admit my mistakes-"

"Well, a leader who fesses up to their mistakes is nice," remarked the ox, "but do you know what's better? A leader who doesn't make these kinds of mistakes in the first place."

More agreement under breath. And while they wouldn't catch your eye, her bodyguard and assistant were visibly uncomfortable standing there and helplessly watching their boss take a verbal beating.

Doty glared. "Well, what a happy world that would be, Councilman."

"What!?" Cunningham piped up in her defense. "And John Boy ain't made a boatload a' mistakes!? Are you people crazy!?"

"Actually, Clete, that's kind of what I was getting at. Because I'm not so sure they're mistakes."

That certainly got the room's attention.

Showtime. "...So. Truly, I can't fault you for pinning what Woodland did partially on me, and that was my impetus to speak up. Now the mayor's chaos is reflecting poorly on me. Selfish, perhaps, but hey, we're all politicians here, let's not kid ourselves that we don't make big decisions based upon how we're perceived. But note that I say John's… chaos. Not his idiocy, not his stupidity… his chaos. I submit to you, the men and women of the City Council… that he's doing it on purpose."

That was more than just a bombshell, Dear Reader. It was so quiet in that room that you'd think the Enola Gay just flew by. Even Clete and Bill didn't know that's where she was going with this, they only knew that she had something she wanted to share with the assembly. Nor did Ryan and Krupa, they were just along for the ride. And among the members of the council, both the ones defending Prince John and the silent minority who would condemn him if they had any faith that it would ever lead anywhere, every single one of them found themselves forced to question their assumptions that the lion was just fucking stupid. The thought that he or anybody else could be doing all the wild things he did would never have naturally crossed their minds.

"...I say this… because he told me as much," Doty concluded.

Understanding her role as moderator, the city manager spoke up. "Uh… w-well, um, I… we certainly hope you plan on backing up such an outrageous claim, Commissioner."

"I do. And I will admit at the top: no, I don't have a recording of this or anything like that. God, do I wish I did. But hear me out and you might agree that this all… sounds like something he would say."

They were listening.

"So the other day… I had the misfortune of sharing a limousine ride with John - until I didn't, when he kicked me out in a strange neighborhood and told me to walk, just like the old-timey English gentleman he is. But before he did that, he and I were alone, and we spoke candidly, first with me asking why he had the audacity to lead the media to believe that I was an equal part in merging the departments when I reluctantly went along with it at best. And because the guy was so very professional, he was sipping wine the whole time, I don't know if he was already drinking before he met me or if the skinny kitty is just a lightweight, but… he got really comfortable really fast with telling me exactly what was on his mind." A pause as she considered the gravity of what she'd just professed. "Or… maybe… he's just so annoyingly confident that he thought he could spill the beans with no consequences."

Some were appalled, some were skeptical, and some were unsurprised, but all were enthralled.

"Okay… stop," said Oxford, hooved hands up and out. "No way, there is no way in hell that he outright said that he was making poor decisions."

"Oh, well not in so many words, of course," Roe replied calmly, "you know how that drama queen won't say anything directly when he could instead make a production out of it. And in that production he did for me the other day, he… hrm…" She debated further explaining the build-up or cutting right to the chase. "...He explained to me that he benefits from the chaos he sews, intentionally or unintentionally, because the more desperate his populace is, the more they're going to need a leader. Not even a good leader, just a leader. And thus they'll turn to him."

It took a few seconds for some to wrap their head around that logic while others got it immediately, but they all did eventually come around to thinking that even if they didn't agree with the logic, they could see the way one could arrive at that conclusion.

"Bert," she continued, gesturing to the coyote. "Since we've already discussed your voter base today, I'll use you as an example. When he raises municipal taxes on one of the lowest-income neighborhoods, what happens to those people? Well, they get even broker. They get desperate. And desperate, powerless people will seek a powerful person to save them. As I told him to his face, that's Stockholm Syndrome."

Councilman Sandoval did nothing but purse his lips.

"And John?" the doe said to the otter. "Why does Other John not raise taxes on the wealthy? He doesn't have to! They see what he's doing to poor people, they give him 'donations' to make sure he keeps punishing those filthy poor people they hate so much and to make sure it doesn't happen to them, and boom, he's making so much in personal gifts that it's almost as much as what he'd be making through embezzled tax money. Not quite as much, granted, but he makes up the difference in effort saved and friends gained, all the while proving people aren't even against paying taxes so much as they're against being forced to. He's gotten your voter base to essentially tax themselves voluntarily in exchange for his loyalty to them."

Councilman Ott didn't agree, but he didn't disagree either, and the conflicted expression of puzzlement he wore gave a better answer than words ever could.

"And all of this nicely compliments the part that… may genuinely be the most solipsistic thing I have ever heard this man say." Doty almost seemed to shiver at the thought of it. "...As he puts it… once his selfish desires are fully satisfied - which will likely coincide nicely with when the population is at their most needy - then, only then, when there's no more that he craves, then he'll be a great leader because he can be selfless with the admiration he demands."

That one wasn't as hard of a sell. Everybody silently agreed that that absolutely sounded like something John Norman would say in complete sincerity.

"And - moment of weakness on my part," she concluded, arms up in frustration, "I was so busy calling him out for being insane that it didn't cross my mind to even question whether a living embodiment of greed itself like him ever would have his selfish desires fully and finally satisfied."

…Man, what do you even say after something like that? They sure didn't fucking know. That was a lot to take in, and they were taking their time processing it.

"So… he freely admits to raising taxes so he can embezzle tax money and make his voter base so poor that they'll be reliant upon him," the ox thought out loud as he tried to formulate a swallowable summary in his mind. "In other words… he's a Democrat."

"Oh, shut the FUCK up!" said Will Wilk, the Polish-American wolf representing working-class Wood Branch, one of the few alongside Clete and Bill who Prince John couldn't buy.

"Am I wrong, liberal!?"

"Andrew, this is not the time for political tribalism," the city manager warned the ox before turning to the wolf, "and William, let's be adults and refrain from outbursts."

"Huh? I didn't even say anything!" protested the confused bear. "...Oh, wait, you meant-"

"Anyway, no, Andrew, that wasn't the point I was getting at," the county commissioner said calmly. "...Though if you had said he's what every Republican thinks a Democratic politician is, well… I wouldn't have spent my energy arguing that."

"If anything," Councilman Wilk continued, "he's doing the Republican move of trying to garner admiration from manufactured chaos like Bush and Giuliani did with-!"

"Oh my God, Will, do not start that argument!" the elephant said sternly as several of the ox's allies grumbled in agreement against the wolf.

That's when the skunk raised his hand. "Okay, here's my question. Even if all of this is true… why are you telling us this? Didn't he buy you a car or two? …Or three?"

Understandably, Doty was not pleased that Angelo had chosen to bring that up. "I truly fail to see how that's relevant, Councilman Stinco-"

"So you admit that he bought you a car," summed up the porcupine, tone of a schoolteacher who was very disappointed by a student's stupidity.

"I can freely admit that because he bought most of you cars, too."

The otter raised a finger in indignation. "He didn't buy me a-!"

"Or something similar in value."

They were quiet again for another moment before Stinco decided to rephrase his point.

"Yeah, but… he bought you two cars."

"And?"

"Angelo's right," said the ox, "someone who's illicitly benefitted from him in a way such as you have has no place calling for his head."

The doe crossed her arms. "If we did the whole let he who is without sin cast the first stone routine, then nobody would throw a stone that really needs to be thrown!"

"Yes. Precisely. So let's throw no stones."

"I agree with the council," the elephant spoke up. "Someone of your character shouldn't be any leading part of a witch-hunt against the mayor."

Doty took that about as well as a slap to the face. "'Someone of my character'!?" she defied the city manager. "Alexis, that is the definition of an ad hominem attack. A-actually, no, it's a meta-ad-hominem attack, you're attacking my character as being someone whose character deserves attack."

Oliphant didn't even blink. "Commissioner Roe… may I remind you, we are politicians. Our character influences the court of public opinion which in turn reflects on us and our policies. In our line of work, ad hominem attacks are valid, ma'am."

While the fox and bear stood there dumbfounded and considering whether it was too late to change careers, the deer narrowed her eyes and clapped back. "Do you really think you're going to convince me with that argument?"

"It's not you whose opinion matters here," Alexis clapped back even harder like they were playing Xtreme Pattycake. "It's the opinions of the members of this council who you're trying to convince to make a motion to remove Mayor Norman. It's called democracy, Doty."

If the tables in that room didn't weigh about as much as the elephant herself, the doe might have been possessed to flip one right then and there.

"I don't see how speaking so condescendingly to me is any more professional than the outbursts some others are making," said the county commissioner. "Is it just because you're saying it somewhat calmly? Is it simply tone you're reprimanding?"

"I'm the leader in this situation, Commissioner Roe," answered the city manager, just as calmly as Doty accused. "I can be as condescending as I need to towards individuals who forget they're not in control when I am. I consider it a miracle on your part that you've achieved as much as you have because clearly you're not comfortable in a space where someone else has authority above you."

As an experiment, the doe held her tongue and just glared at the elephant. In part because it seemed like the more mature decision, but also because she hoped that the silence would give Alexis a chance to reflect on how much of a bitch she was being.

But then the boys just had to go ahead and talk for her.

"Wait… do you have authority over her?" asked Karhunen. "Does the Mayor even, or are they… even?"

"I mean, you're the authority in the room," added Cunningham, "but, uh… do the authority pyramids overlap or are they… separate?"

Cold as ice, Oliphant didn't miss a beat. "Do you think she knows that?"

"Oh, what the FUCK is it with you cutting down other women!?" Doty snapped, power-walking over to get right in the sitting behemoth's face. "You don't want more women in power in this world, you want to be the woman in power so there's no competition to look inspiring! Bragging that you succeed in male-dominated spaces while your own gender can't fucking stand you, you're just like your fucking mom!"

Oh. She'd went there. She'd went there on two levels, iconoclastically vilifying a dead beloved leader and her audience's dead mom.

Doty wasn't sorry. She'd done her homework to get where she was and had studied the political history of this city; when she was a young woman just getting interested in politics, Commissioner Roe thought she would find herself working under the elder Oliphant one day, and had made a point to get a handle on how the old mayor ticked for when that day came. Doty had made up her mind on Andrea long ago, and now saw the same patterns in daughter as in mother. Here the deer was gambling her career to at least sleep better at night knowing that she'd tried to do the right thing, and along comes this hussy thinking she gets to be Queen Bee just because she'd been Mommy's little princess. Oh, hell no.

What did the rest of the room think of her remarks? Hey, most of them thought that had come out of left field, few of them contemplated things like this through the lens of feminist theory like the doe did. But they knew Doty did, they knew Andrea at least acted like she had, and ergo they could extrapolate that Alexis probably had strong feelings on the topic. They were silent. You could hear a pin drop, and probably even hear it cutting through the air as it fell. They were terrified how their boss would respond.

The city manager's response was, in fact, terrifying.

"...Commissioner Roe…" she said with the indifferent confidence of a judge making their ruling, "...please leave."

Doty had lost. She knew she'd lost. But she'd come into this situation knowing full well that she probably would, so she didn't look outwardly shocked or hurt when she was shut down like that; she maintained her silent in-your-face glare for a few beats longer. But there was certainly a part of her who didn't want to lose… like that.

She made an abrupt about-face and marched quickly towards the door, making minimal eye contact as she saw herself out. "I've said what I came here to say, believe me or don't, it's out of my hands, but I know what's really up with him. Bill, Clete, I've planted the seeds for you, now you've gotta water them. Best of luck. Let's go, guys."

Krupa and Ryan understood they were the ones being referred to and followed her out the door, neither sure whether they were supposed to say goodbye to the room and ultimately just giving them unsure looks and lukewarm waves.

"Uh, h-hey, curious question for the bodyguard," piped up Councilman Stinco, "I've got an assistant who looks, uh… do you have any-?"

"My biological father was a male prostitute who had trouble finding condoms that fit him so there were a lot of rips and leaks," the tiger answered automatically, very used to the question. And as he closed the door behind himself, the doe, and the mongoose, the skunk and everyone else stared at the space the trio had occupied, wondering what the hell they'd just heard.

"...I wouldn't've asked if I knew he was gonna say that," Angelo apologized.

"Sooo… uh… to get that, um, imagery out of our heads…" Alexis continued with an unneeded clearing of her throat, "let me resume by saying… Councilmen Cunningham, Karhunen? I understand your reasoning for bringing Commissioner Roe here, and I don't hold what's transpired against you. But whether or not I believe what she said about Mayor Norman isn't important because I, frankly, find it all immaterial."

"'Immaterial'?" the fox asked skeptically. "Aw, don't let my accent fool you, I ain't Ward Woodland, I know what that word means. I simply am not seein' how you can call that immaterial."

"Because everything she said about him was either something that wasn't illegal or anything that would preclude him from fulfilling his duties as mayor, is an accusation like corruption which all politicians are accused of at some point in their careers - note that she provided no evidence of this, which is par for the course - and then there's simply the sheer fact that… yes, as she freely admitted, exposing everything she's accusing him of would greatly implicate her and ruin her own career. We'd be foolish not to treat that as suspicious and not think there was some ulterior motive, what she's proposing would make no sense otherwise."

The bear was beside himself. "Are we really going to treat it as an impossibility that she was willing to take that risk because it's the right thing to do!?"

The elephant gave him the look one gives a stupid person who's making the world a stupider place by just being so damn stupid. "Yes, Councilman, we are."

"We're politicians, didja forget?" the fox snarked to his bear friend.

Bill just fumed. Clete fumed along with him.

"So tell us, gentlemen," Oliphant resumed, "...what else have we to discuss here?"

"Lots!" insisted Karhunen. "We refuse to believe you guys aren't at least considering what she had to say!"

"We came here to accomplish something and we're not gonna quit that easily!" added Cunningham.

"Well, boys," the ox spoke up again, "your resolve is admirable, but sometimes you need to cut your losses."

"We only have so much time in our lives," added the otter, the oldest in the room and the one who was most likely to be thinking such a thought regularly. "Pardon my rudeness, but I'd be doing myself a disservice not to convey to you that you're wasting mine."

"Gentlemen," the elephant said calmly, "could you please put into words precisely what you want from us so we can decide whether to give it to you?"

"Yes, we want to start a motion to get the mayor removed from power!" Clete answered firmly. "That's what we said at the top!"

And to that, Alexis first blinked, then shrugged. "Very well, then. Start the motion, councilmen. Demonstrate the process by which it is done." She gestured to him and then to Bill. "You want to lead? Lead."

Her goal was to throw them off by putting them on the spot and it worked flawlessly. They hypothetically knew how to get the ball rolling on such a thing, but there are few among us who are never tripped up by a pop quiz. Their mouths opened but no words came out as they glanced at each other, trying not to look too intimidated by their task.

"Uh… w-we gotta vote on it!" the bear declared when the verbiage finally came to him.

"Vote on what, exactly?" their boss challenged.

"...To remove him?"

Oliphant shook her head slowly. "That's not how our system of government works."

"H-he means we're gonna vote on having a recall election!" the fox said triumphantly.

"And how do we do that?"

"...By voting on it, what else d'ya mean?"

"What must the vote look like?"

So esoteric and arcane was the series of questions that the two men just ground to a halt. But then, for the second time that day, a doe came along to bail them out; this one, however, was much less hopeful that they'd actually succeed.

"She means it's got to be a two-thirds majority vote," spoke up the reindeer, Martha Holiday representing industry-heavy Dagsboro on the near southeast side. She had a strange melancholy in her voice as though she was rehearsing a eulogy.

"Bingo!" exclaimed Karhunen. "And you know what? We ought to let the vote be private like it is for the citizens in the voting booth!"

"Y'all might be more inclined to share how ya really feel if you're not pressurin' one another to stay the course!" Cunningham finished for him, demonstrating just how on-the-same-wavelength the ursid and vulpid were.

"And that's all well and good," said the city manager, "but would you like to explain why we can't do that?"

Bill huffed. "Lemme guess, because we don't have a room set up for private voting like that!?"

"A lack of infrastructure, as it were?" Clete grumbled along.

Alexis just shook her head again, looking bored out of her mind.

"Then what?"

Martha understood: "There aren't two-thirds of us here."

A doctor would likely scold the duo for how damaging it could be to one's neck to to turn one's head as fast as they did to face her, whereupon the doe reciprocated with an absolutely crushed look on her face. She didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but somebody had to be.

The two men looked frantically around the room. But they weren't looking at the people who were there, they were looking at the ones who weren't. They'd noticed the empty chairs, but they hadn't bothered counting and tabulating just how many absentees there were. Turns out… there were a lot of them. The reindeer was right.

Councilman Wilk spoke up again. "Well, wouldn't that just count as an abstained vote if they didn't take their jobs seriously enough?"

"Abstaining from voting is still a vote," explained the elephant. "And it's not a yes."

The fox was pointing at each seat as he counted those who were there and who were not, while the bear counted on his fingers, each hoping they'd counted wrong the first time. But they both kept getting the same sums. And they both felt very, very stupid for not noticing this earlier.

They turned to their only vocal allies. But neither had anything to offer them. The wolf gave them a look to convey that he was probably more annoyed than they were that this plan was a nonstarter, and the doe simply showed herself to be heartbroken on their behalf. And when they dared to look at the rest of the room… well, some of them were already gathering their things and packing up.

"So the thing you assembled us here to do turned out to be mathematically impossible," Councilman Oxford grumbled as he stood. "I'll be taking off now."

"We woulda had enough people if enough people gave enough of a damn to show up!" Cunningham protested.

"Good leaders would succeed at getting people to show up of their own volition," Ott said as he lowered his chair and hopped off to leave, never once making eye contact with the bear and the fox.

"And they wouldn't have to try hard at it, either," added Stinco, the skunk following the otter's example.

"I hereby declare this meeting adjourned," Oliphant mumbled as she slowly raised her massive weight off of her chair. "Though I hesitate to say it was ever really in-session."

"Oh, after all the work we put into this!?" Karhunen defied her. "How are you going to say that to us!?"

The elephant knew her audience. He was a guy and he was a bear. The easiest and most effective way to shut him down was to make him feel small.

Alexis leaned down over the councilman she dwarfed. "Like this," she said straight downwards.

Humbled, Bill could only muster a tight nod. Clete walked across the table and put an arm on his friend's shoulder, knowing his ally was feeling something he didn't like to feel. They stood there for a while with each other and their thoughts as the room cleared out. Notably, two of the last people to leave were Will Wilk and Martha Holiday. Both the wolf and the reindeer stopped on their way to the door with the intention of saying something helpful, something comforting. You did what you could, You did more than anybody else did, You did your best. But for the respective lives of them, neither colleague could find the right words, and exited without saying anything.

This narrator has heard your cries, Dear Reader. You've been wondering who's letting Prince John run around and make an ass of himself without any pushback this whole entire time. And you were right to do so. The truth is that there was always an answer to that. But if my job is to tell a story, there was little in the way of a story to tell here. Characters do stuff, things happen, nothing meaningful changes. I'd further say that nobody wants to read a story with a downer ending, but arguably this series of events had no ending either; occurrences simply stop and life goes on as though those occurrences had never even happened.

They tried, Dear Reader. God, they tried.