Chapter 4: Nursery Rhymes Pt. I

Jughead reached instinctively into his pocket and folded his fingers over the cold blade hidden inside his jacket. "JB," he said, voice shaking, "stay in the house."

"Jughead, who is that?" she asked, her face twisting in confusion as her brother yanked open the front door.

"Stay in the house," Jughead repeated sternly, the door slamming behind him. Positioning himself at the top of the front steps, he brought out his knife and held it cautiously at his side. Chic stood in the middle of the street with his hands folded behind his back. He wore a bright orange jumpsuit and his still-red hair was short and ragged as if it had been cut haphazardly with an old pair of scissors.

"Jughead," he chuckled, "good to see you again. I heard you had moved into my old house." His raspy voice cut like knives into Jughead's mind.

Jughead snorted. "What did you do?" he asked in a quaking voice as rage pulsed behind his eyes.

Chic smirked, tilting his head as he answered, "Only what needed to be done." He took a step forward. Jughead flinched and raised his knife a little higher. "Ah ah ah, Jughead. Remember what happened the last time we got in a fight?"

"Yeah. I kicked your ass."

"That's funny because I remember almost choking you to death."

A small banging and clatter sounded nearby as Archie rushed into the street, his eyes wild and his grip tight around a bat. He stopped a few feet in front of Jughead before Chic raised a hand in his direction. "Now, now, Archie. There's no need for violence. Not yet." He smirked, "No, I'm only here to deliver a message."

Jughead and Archie exchanged a quick glance, slightly relaxing their stances. Jughead looked warily at Chic. "Let's have it, then."

Chic brought his hands in front of him; one remained closed into a fist, the other held up a folded sheet of paper. "We're going to play a little game. You like puzzles, don't you Jughead?" Jughead stared back, unwavering and unblinking. "How about scavenger hunts?"

Jughead's mouth curled into a snarl. "We don't have time for your games, Chic!" He sprung forward, holding his knife up to the convicts' face. Archie circled to Chic's other side, raising his bat and grimacing. Chic still held his sneer, but Jughead noticed something flicker behind the arrogant look in his eyes.

Just then, police sirens whirred to life as a cruiser swerved around the corner, coming to an abrupt halt a few feet away from the scene on the street. The door swung open and FP rose from the car, a gun poised in his outstretched arms. His eyes flipped between the shabby convict and his frenzied son.

Chic attempted to take a few steps back, but Jughead grabbed his collar and yanked him forward. His eyes and cheeks were glowing. "Answers!" he yelled, causing Chic to flinch. "We want answers, not a frivolous game!"

"Jughead! Back up, boy!" FP yelled. He had inched in front of the open car door with his gun pointed directly at Chic.

"I'd listen to your dad, Jughead." Chic raised his closed hand and let its contents fall slack. A small chain bounced around in the air in front of Jughead's eyes. He scrunched up his face and turned, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. "You don't want Betty to get hurt, do you?"

Jughead pushed Chic back and snatched the necklace out of his hand, cradling it in his own. He let out a small whimper as his finger brushed over a dried red smear sticking out against the silver key pendant.

Archie leaned over Jug's shoulder to get a glimpse of the necklace. "You're sick!" he snarled, gripping the bat a bit tighter. Jughead walked in a small circle, placing his hands on his hips. He stood still, only moving to suck in a deep breath. FP cautiously stepped closer and Archie kept his eyes trained on Chic, who smoothed out his wrinkled collar, regaining his air of conceit.

"Now, I hope you're familiar with your nursery rhymes." He waved the sheet of paper in front of his face, taunting the two glowering boys. Archie swiped for it, but Chic flung his hand back, raising his other and shaking a finger at the redhead.

Archie furrowed his brow. "What is that?"

"A riddle – a map – if you'd like." He folded his hands behind his back, taking a step backward. "You solve the riddle, you find Betty."

"I take it back, you're not sick, you're demented," Archie grumbled.

Chic cocked his head and smiled. "I'll give you this, but first, there are… conditions."

"Of course," Jughead growled.

"First, you lower your weapons. That includes the sheriff."

Archie looked at Jughead and slowly placed his bat on the ground. Jughead slowly folded his blade, placing it back in his pocket. FP lowered his gun. Jughead turned back to Chic with turbulent eyes.

"Good. Second, you let me walk."

"Not gonna happen," FP scoffed, "We've got you surrounded here and now."

Chic looked at FP. "Let me repeat myself. I walk, or-," he reached down and untucked a lighter from his sock, "or I burn this - your only lead, your only small connection to Betty left." He glanced at Jughead as he cheerfully breathed the last part of his threat, striking a small flame to life and holding it under the paper.

Archie took a step forward, but Jughead held a hand out in front of him. "No, Arch, he means it."

"Third," he lowered the lighter but kept it close. "If you call backup or any of your FBI pals, I make sure Betty dies. And last but not least, no adults allowed." FP frowned. "Sorry sheriff, but this is between me and your son."

Jughead whipped back around towards Chic. "So, what? We just go on your little scavenger hunt and that's it? You're a con man. And a murderer. What else?"

"Nothing," Chic said coolly, "If you figure out the riddle, you get Betty back. That's it."

Jughead was shaking. "Why?" he asked, eyes burning.

Chic strolled haughtily up to Jughead, his wicked blue eyes shining. He flipped the lid to the lighter open and the small flame danced in and out of view. "You and Betty think you're so smart, so, in control. But break up the little detectives? You get pain and suffering, and I get to watch you squirm. After everything you did to me, this is personal. I want to watch you break. If only for a moment." There it was again - that thing - this time wavering behind the bravado in Chic's grating voice.

"Now you're a psychopath," Archie chided, spitting daggers.

Chic slid his tongue between his teeth. "Do we have a deal?" He held out the folded note.

Jughead swiped it and Chic leaned back, grinning wryly. "Guess we do." He began walking backward toward the side of the street that was clear. "Have fun on your little quest. I'm sure Betty's having loads of it right now."

Wham! A rock collided with Chic's forehead, sending him sprawling. Archie and Jughead ducked, looking around. FP brought his gun back out amidst the confusion. "Jug! Archie! Back! Back up!"

Jughead ran up the front steps to his sister. "Jellybean! I told you to stay in the house!"

"He was threatening you and dad!" she shouted, loading another rock into her slingshot.

Chic staggered to his feet; he looked dazed, but when he saw the gun in FP's raised arms, he bolted. Archie sprinted after him with FP racing close behind.

"Archie, back! I got this!" FP shouted, pushing the boy back. He stopped and fired, two shots ringing out into the neighborhood. One grazed Chic's shoulder, knocking him off balance. FP came up behind, tackling him the rest of the way to the ground. Jughead ran up beside Archie with Jellybean in tow as FP wrestled Chic's arms behind his back, placing handcuffs on his wrists.

"You don't get to make the rules. Not this time," FP spat, yanking Chic to his feet and dragging him towards his cruiser. "We're going to find Betty while you stay far away, where you can't hurt her."

Jughead and Archie watched as FP hauled Chic past them, pulling open the back door to his cruiser. Chic locked eyes with Jughead. "You made a mistake," he said waveringly as FP shoved him into the car, a small trickle of blood flowing down his eyebrow.

Jughead straightened up. Triumph? Fear? What was Chic hiding? His lip curled as he looked down at the partially crumpled note in his hand. He walked over to his dad and grabbed his arm. "Dad," he whispered, "don't tell the station about this." He held up the note. "Please. Just question Chic."

FP looked down and Jughead could see his thoughts churning. "Jug," he said quietly, "the last time we were sent on a quest like this, it was a trick. I don't want that to happen again."

"Dad," Jughead said with more urgency in his voice. "Just in case he isn't bluffing, let me handle this part. Until we know where she is. Then I'll call the police in. We don't know what kind of condition Chic has her in. Please, dad."

FP studied his son's face, then sighed. "Okay. But please, if you get in too deep or figure anything out, you call me." Then he ducked into his car, blared the sirens, and backed out of the street.

Jughead, Archie, and Jellybean were left standing in the middle of the road, staring as the police car drove off, Chic's lingering threats clogging their already troubled minds.

"What the hell? Chic wants us to go on some manic goose chase to find Betty?"

Jughead rubbed the silver necklace between his hands, nodding to Veronica's question. Archie had called her as soon as the cruiser had turned out of sight.

"If we solve the riddle it should lead us to Betty. At least, that's what we think. He said the riddle was like a map."

"But, why?"

Jughead massaged his temple, letting out a cold growl. "He said that he wanted to let us know we're not in control. Split up the detectives and watch us squirm without Betty's help."

Veronica groaned as she sat down on the couch. "Our poor girl…" She leaned her head into Archie's arm.

"Well, let's get to it," Archie said. "Jug, what's it say?"

Jughead smoothed the crumpled note out on the coffee room table:

"Hey diddle, diddle,

You must solve this riddle

Before the rise of the moon.

Search at the place

Where lies drain away,

Find the case and you'll see your friend soon."

Jughead folded his hands together as he stared fervently at the piece of paper before him. Games. Why did they always have to play God-forsaken games? Always stuck as a pathetic pawn. He huffed, "Okay, so, 'Hey diddle diddle, You must solve this riddle before the rise of the moon.' He's giving us a deadline."

"Sunset," Archie guessed, rustling his hair. His baseball bat leaned against his leg, one arm still wrapped prudently around it.

"If your dad has Chic in custody, do we still need to worry about the time?" Veronica questioned. "I mean, if he was going to do something at sunset he can't now."

"I wouldn't take any chances," Jughead shot back. "Doesn't mean he hasn't already done something. Betty could be hurt. No, we're not taking any chances."

"We better stick to the rest of the rules then, just to be safe," Archie chimed in.

Jughead nodded. "Agreed."

"What?" Veronica chided, getting up and crossing her arms. "He's already with the police! Why shouldn't we bring them in on this?"

Jughead leaned back in his chair and placed a hand on his bouncing knee. "Something doesn't feel right. Chic's a con man. Him just walking up to our house in broad daylight? Knowing my dad is the sheriff? He may have been trying to intimidate us, but I think there's something else."

"What…" Veronica contemplated as she paced around the living room, "like he wanted to get caught?"

"It's a possibility, but I don't know," Jughead exhaled, swiveling back and forth in his chair. I don't know, his thoughts repeated.

Archie fidgeted in his seat and grabbed the note from the table. "We can figure that out later, can we get back to this? It's already two o'clock. If we have to find Betty by sunset that gives us roughly five hours." He lowered his eyes to the paper as Veronica and Jughead shared a quick glance. "'Search at the place where lies drain away, find the case and you'll see your friend soon.' Okay… so we look at a place where lies go?"

"Great. That narrows it down to the entire town," Veronica puffed irritably.

Jughead shook his head. "Well, this is from Chic, so maybe something about him? One of his many lies?"

"What about that hotel place that Betty and her mom first found Chic? He was lying about being Charles," Archie guessed, looking at Jughead as he rested his chin on the top of his bat.

"I've been there before, they don't ask a lot of questions, but people still live there. Besides, the owner stabbed Chic once, I don't think he'd want to go back." Jughead shook his head slowly, "No, that's probably not it."

Veronica shifted uncomfortably, biting her lip. "How about Thornhill? It's probably where Chic squatted during his whole Gargoyle King stint, he would know the land well enough. And, well, the whole 'survive the night' thing didn't turn out in his favor, maybe he'd go back… to finish it?" She met Archie's eyes, a small shudder running down her back.

Jughead's hand bounced rapidly on his knee as his eyes zipped around the room. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, each hit of the minute hand pounding into his mind. "He is the kind to hold a grudge," his voice unsteady, "and getting all four of us back there somehow… it's secluded, dark and eerie…"

Archie bolted upright, knocking his bat over with a jittering clang in the process. "That has to be it!" Veronica stood next to him and stared apprehensively down at Jughead.

Jughead grabbed the note and stuffed it in his pocket next to his knife. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheeks and nodded slowly. "Let's get going."

Dense fog clung to the grounds of Thornhill, draping over the estate like a ghostly gown. Despite it being the middle of the day, long, dark shadows stretched out from the towering iron gates guarding the blackened, charred ruins of the mansion.

Jughead hopped from the car, pulling his leather jacket a little tighter around his frame. Archie grabbed a backpack and a few flashlights from the backseat as Veronica looked out over the property into the looming shadowy woods. "Maybe we should have called Cheryl? She would know this place better than we would."

Jughead shook his head. "No, this definitely feels like an 'inner-circle-only' type of job."

"Where do we start?" Archie asked, adjusting the straps on the backpack slung over his shoulders, one hand cradling a flashlight. "It said something about finding a case?"

"Find the case and you'll see your friend soon," Jughead repeated, his hand hovering over the pocket with the note and knife.

"This is a huge place, that could mean a lot of things," Veronica deliberated, "A bookcase? A chest or box of some sort? How is that supposed to help us find Betty?"

"Maybe the case holds a key?" Jughead added. "To unlock a room or something."

"Veronica's right, this place is huge. Let's split up, cover more ground." Archie tossed a flashlight to both Jughead and Veronica.

"No, Archie," Jughead stopped his friend from walking away. "Every time the Scooby gang splits up, one of them gets chased by a monster. No, we need to stay together." He turned toward the gravel pathway leading into the forest and watched as dark tree branches danced in the cold wind. "The Hunting Lodge. That would make the most sense, let's head there."

Archie and Veronica nodded, following Jughead as he quickly trudged up the shady and twisted path into the woods.

xxx

Archie shined his flashlight into the dusty interior of one of the red barns adorning the path. Rows of abandoned barrels lined the inside. His light glinted off a corroded hook and chain swinging shrilly in the dusty rafters. He frowned, quickly switching his flashlight off and jogged ahead to catch up with Jughead.

"Hey," he said quietly, looking back at Veronica, who was trailing behind them. "Are you okay, Jug? I mean, I know we're in a really screwed up situation, but you seem, like, really freaked."

Jughead stared straight ahead as he walked in silence for a few moments, then he answered, "Something isn't right about all this."

"Betty got kidnapped. Nothing's right about that."

"No, no, beyond that. Everything about Chic's behavior. There was something behind his act, something in his eyes while he was taunting us." He shook his head. "There's something I'm missing."

"We, Jug," Archie pressed, "We're missing something. You're not in this alone."

Jughead looked down at his feet and swallowed. "Just-it's just that everything was starting to go so right! Things were dying down and shaping up. Settling. Why are we such fools to think that after everything that's happened to us, that we can have happy lives?"

"Jug," Archie stopped and grabbed his friends' shoulders, "Jug, stop don't think like that. Yeah, this sucks right now. And other things have sucked for us before, but that doesn't mean we can't have happy lives. My dad taught me better than that. We have to keep getting back up and showing whatever it is that's in front of us that we are stronger than it. Betty's going to be fine. She's the strongest of all of us and we're going to find her."

Jughead's eyes burned. Archie clapped a hand on his shoulder as Veronica caught up to them. "Not to break up this sweet moment boys, but look, we're almost there."

xxx

The boys looked up at the unnerving lodge looming in front of them. The wooden steps creaked underneath their feet as they climbed to the front door. The three looked at each other anxiously and Jughead swallowed, then nodded, slowly opening the door. Stale air met them as they entered the large dining room. Cups and plates lay scattered over the mahogany table, its thick layer of dust matching that on the ornate chandelier overhead. Dead, cracked wood lay in the derelict fireplace, ash still clinging to the grate.

"More déjà vu…" Veronica whispered, shaking her flashlight to life.

Jughead scanned the room, his eyes floating upwards to the balcony lined with sooty portraits and closed doors. "Betty?" he called tentatively. The three friends held their breath but Jughead's question was only answered with an unsettling silence.

"Come on," Archie said, "let's try all the doors. Look for any kind of case or chest along the way." He walked over to the closest door and tried the knob, stepping inside as it swung open with a loud groan. Veronica trotted to the far side of the room and disappeared into the kitchen. Jughead started to climb the staircase, placing one hand along the splintered banister.

His steps echoed through the empty chamber as he reached the landing. One door sat to his left, and another a few feet down the hall. He turned to his left and pushed his way into the first room. A standing mirror sat in the corner adjacent to a fully made-up bed, a section of its' checkered comforter pulled back. Jughead ran his hand over the sheets, brushing up against what, in the dim glow of his flashlight, looked like a hospital gown. He grabbed it and turned it over in his hand, but quickly dropped it back on the bed, briefly wondering about what odd circumstances brought about the small scene in the room, stuck abandoned and frozen in time.

He turned around and jumped slightly, caught off guard by his reflection in the mirror. Wow, I look horrible, he thought. The bags under his eyes were dark and hollow. His black hair was tangled and jostled and his gray beanie was hanging crookedly off his head. He took a moment to readjust his hat and then he sighed, walking back into the hallway and out of the phantom grip of the peculiar lingering familiarity of the previous room.

He stood in front of the other door and turned the knob, catching resistance. Locked. Jughead's heart began to thump. "Betty!" he called again, but again was met with silence. He slammed a fist on the door, shaking a layer of dust into the air. He coughed as he backed up and braced himself, then charged, slamming his shoulder into the door. It gave way and Jughead had to catch himself on a chair as he pitched into the room. He looked around, letting out a shaky breath. The room was filled with wrapped furniture and portraits. A few cardboard boxes were strewn across the floor. He ripped open the nearest one; it was filled with newspaper and glassware. He tried the next. Newspaper and silverware. It was just a storage room. He kicked a box then tramped back to the balcony.

"It looks like we're the only ones who have been here in months," Archie's voice rang out through the lodge. "No footprints or anything remotely clean. I didn't find anything."

"Me neither," Veronica called. "I know we were already looking for something on ambiguous terms, but I don't think anything is here."

Jughead stomped down the steps, a defeated look plastered across his face. "No, nothing is here. Just cobwebs and ghosts."

Archie, Veronica, and Jughead plodded back into the cool afternoon air. Clouds had covered the sun overhead and the woods of Thornhill had somehow grown darker.

"Well, that was a nice trip down memory lane," Veronica said, trying to brush dust and cobwebs from her blouse.

"What now? The woods?" Archie asked, gesturing toward the trees surrounding them. "That could take hours."

"We don't have that much time," Jughead barked. "I'm not sure this is the right place." He put his hands on his hips and kicked a patch of grass.

"I was sure this would be it," Veronica moaned as she shook her head, "but all this place is now is a nightmare dump."

Jughead looked at her, his thoughts churning as a sudden pit formed in his stomach. "Dump…" he muttered to himself. He gasped, "Veronica! That's it. It's a play on words!" He yanked the note out of his pocket, his fingers fumbling as he tried to unfold it. "Search at the place where lies drain away. Drain away! He's talking about Swedlow Swamp!"

Veronica and Archie stared in confusion at Jughead. He cocked his head. "Last year after Chic accidentally killed that drug dealer, Betty and I dumped his car in the swamp. Betty and Mrs. Cooper hid the body in a drainpipe near the swamp. He's talking about that secret! We've had to lie about it ever since to cover up for Chic." His eyes were frantic and he started to step backward. "That's where we have to go! Come on!"

Jughead broke into a sprint, Archie and Veronica hot on his heels.

FP clambered down the old ladder and dropped the last two rungs, a clanging echo resounding throughout the metal bunker. Walking over to the main room, he dropped a Pop's take-out bag on the bed before lounging on the old mattress. Chic was slumped in front of him, tied to a metal chair, a messy bandage wrapped around his left arm.

"Finally," he croaked, "I'm starving."

"Oh no," FP leered, unwrapping a burger and shoving it in his mouth. "Kidnapping assholes don't have the right to food. Not down here."

"Why aren't we at the station?" Chic asked, nervously looking up and down at FP.

"You asked for no police or FBI, didn't you? Well, you got it. No Sheriff Jones here, just ole no-good FP the Serpent," he chided, slurping on his soda. "Now, we're just gonna have a little chat. Snake to snake."

Chic's lip curled into a snarl. "Good luck with that."

"Oh, you don't want to talk? Too bad." He took a switchblade from his pocket and flipped it open and closed. Open, closed. Open, closed. "How'd you break out? Shankshaw's not an easy place to get out of."

Chic smirked, "Good thing I wasn't in Shankshaw, then."

FP frowned, "That's where we sent you."

"I got transferred. I'm very persuasive," he said, coolly dragging out the last word.

FP chucked his burger wrapper across the floor. "Hiram's prison. You were in Hiram's prison." Chic stared vacantly back at him. "What, cozy rooms and a small wage not good enough for ya'?"

"I told you, I have unfinished business," he sneered, leaning closer to FP.

FP studied Chic's face for a moment before swinging his fist into the man's jaw. Chic crumpled over, blood flowing from his lip.

Chic spurted, coughing through the blood. "I thought you didn't roll this way anymore."

"You abducted Betty! I'll do whatever it takes to get her back. I'm not watching an innocent kid die again," FP snapped, resisting the urge to pound Chic a second time. "Now-," he flipped the switchblade in Chic's face, "where is she?"

Chic spit and slowly raised his eyes to FP's. "Gone. Not here."

"What did you do with her?"

"She left me to die, I'm leaving her to die," Chic calmly retorted.

"Not good enough, where is she?" FP howled, grabbing Chic's shoulders. "Or do you want to be left to die again? I can just leave you down here, nobody will come to help." Chic's face relaxed, fading to a frown. "Uh-huh, you don't want to die. You like living your miserable little life. So here are my conditions: either you can answer me and I make sure you get help, or I can leave you down here alone."

Chic looked away from FP and stared around the room. "You don't scare me," he muttered.

"Oh no? Who would? My FBI buddies? Your old pal Charles, maybe?"

Chic snapped his head back to FP. "What do you mean? Charles is dead."

FP chortled. "Oh… you don't know? Charles is alive and he's in the FBI. How's that for a twist? You want me to go get him and tell him what you did to his sister?" Chic's mouth was cracked open slightly, his brow wrinkling in disbelief. "You know what, maybe I will. I bet he's got more tricks than I do. I just punch. But an FBI agent…" FP shook his head, blowing a sad whistle at Chic.

"I watched him die…" Chic said blankly.

"No, you let him die! Just like you keep letting other people die! Now, stop messing around. Where's Betty?"

Chic straightened back up, his mouth twitching and eyes watering. "I don't know," he said softly.

"Stop it with the act!" FP bellowed, lifting his fist.

Green and orange bushes rustled as Jughead, Archie, and Veronica burst into a clearing near Swedlow Swamp. Jughead looked around, nodding to himself. "It was right here. This is where we pushed the car. Let's sweep the area around here. I know the drainpipe is around here somewhere…" His voice trailed off as he jogged to the edge of the swamp, staring into its filthy waters.

Archie trudged off to the left, pushing aside tree branches and weeds. Veronica walked to the right, gingerly stepping through patches of mud. "Call out if you find anything!" she shouted back.

Jughead ran alongside the shore of the swamp, his eyes sweeping the foliage that lined the wetland. He crouched down beside an indent in the mud; it was the jagged outline of a large footprint. He traced it with two fingers, running this hand behind the footprint to another marking. He stared at what appeared to be draglines, next to which snapped grass and crushed plants littered the path. "Oh, Betts…" he whispered, his rapid imagination tugging at his heart. He followed the markings to another clearing where the lines became a jumbled mess of mud and large leaves.

A large, billowy leaf lay in the middle of the clearing, its' large stem muddy and broken. Jughead picked it up and spun it around in his hands. His gaze fell over the mess of lines and slashes patterned in the dirt. Someone had tried to cover up their tracks.

"Guys!" Archie's voice reverberated through the air, distress filling his tone. Jughead bolted in the direction of the call and found Archie crouched in front of the opening to a large drainpipe, eyes wide at whatever was in the hazy light of his flashlight. Veronica came crashing behind Jughead and the two leaned over Archie's shoulders.

"No!" Veronica squeaked as Jughead scrambled into the pipe. Laying inside the wide duct, grimly illuminated by Archie's flashlight, was a large brown coffin with a lock and chain bound around it.

"Rock!" Jughead screamed, pulling at the chains wrapped around the casket. "Betty!"

Archie found a large rock near the opening to the pipe and handed it to Jughead. He crawled around to the other side of the casket and starting yanking at the chains. Jughead smashed the rock against the lock, coming down harder and harder each time until, finally, the lock snapped.

Jughead unhooked the broken lock and threw it down the pipe and he and Archie started unwrapping the chains from the box. Veronica held shakily onto the flashlight, her mouth agape. As he shimmied the last chain away, Jughead jerked open the lid. "Betty!"

The three friends gasped simultaneously. Veronica fell back against the side of the drain. Jughead sucked in a choked breath, smashing his hands against the floor.

Empty.

The coffin was empty except for a lone note laying mockingly on the white cloth lining of the wooden case.

Author's Notes: This chapter was so long I split it into two parts, Part II is coming your way tomorrow, don't worry you don't have to wait that long!

What do you think? Review please if you are enjoying it!