Chapter 27 - Splashes of Color
Melbourne Convention & Exhibition Centre
Webs had no idea how complex her spy outfit was to the point she wondered if black holes were involved in its production. While she got worried about being unable to carry larger objects without the help of others, she was lucky it had a LOT of space. And the relief of not needing to go through her spine breaking from carrying many things.
A simple leather jacket and a hoodie might not be enough to have such hammerspace, but they did come from the International League of Heroes. Guess they weren't one to need extra bags with all the 'space' in her jacket.
The things she collected here would be useless junk, which usually attracted tourists to enjoy their stays.
At the moment, she was taking a break at a manga booth with Gumbo. Both of them were flipping through books with Webs finding an insect-sized shelf of books for her to hold easily. By the time she decided which books she wanted to buy, she already stored at least ten books in the hammerspace of her vest.
She had a sad look when reading through one manga book. But after a while, she overlooked the meaning and placed it in her vest, already bought. She still enjoyed its visuals as they captured the drawings in a vibrant and even hopeful tone.
On the other hand, Gumbo had a look of disgust, reading the same book. Immediately, Webs guessed he was on a VERY specific page that would elicit this reaction. His face, matched with dorky reading glasses, made him look funny.
"Playing it safe, huh?" she sassed.
The crocodile nearly belched, sticking out his tongue. "This definitely belongs to hentai! I'm not old enough to know this!"
"I don't think it's that strong to go there."
"How about you take a look at it yourself?"
Webs pulled out the book again and did so, observing the GRAPHICALLY messy scene of the manga. The tarantula paled, but the sensual scenery only made her feel more annoyed by how detailed it was.
"Yeah…" she said, grinning ironically. "Well, at least one scene isn't too overly disgusting, though, it doesn't fancy me."
"This is said to be a romance manga," said Gumbo. "Is this the sort of thing people look for?"
"If they are desperate to feel like a man. Or if they are going through heartbreak."
Gumbo nodded. "Fair point. At least I'm not looking out to be a breadwinner."
Webs raised an eyebrow, curious about that statement. Then, she noticed the language of the title of the book Gumbo was reading. "You know Korean that much?"
Gumbo blinked. He looked back at the dialogue and he could confirm it was indeed in Korean. "The whole time, I was translating those symbols into English so easily that I forgot what language it was in."
The tarantula found that ironically funny but also impressive! The glasses might have been the trick.
"Not bad, Mr. Crocodile," she said in fluent Korean. "I know Chinese and Korean. What about you?"
And in zero seconds, Gumbo could translate it without needing a phone. "Took a couple of linguistic classes and sessions before. Nearly EVERY language actually! Though, I'm more fluent in my natural English."
"Nice!" said Webs, switching back to English. "I like it! Maybe not Hornet since he would get jealous."
The crocodile shared a similar chuckle, liking the compliment. At this moment, he realized he was starting to see her as more than just a mindless criminal. It just suddenly happened…naturally. Flustered, he looked away and pretended to take off his glasses.
Not too far from them, Shark was close to wrapping up his turn in having a solo search for the Eden Apples. And he was already having quite a blast!
Aside from the pesky rival criminals he avoided (and one he needed to throw up in the toilet), he collected a fair bunch. Granted, it was a little too easy since the Eden Apples were very obvious to spot on plastic shields and swords, but it was better than nothing. Nevertheless, in some spots, he needed to blend in the crowd properly before accessing unauthorized rooms.
For every former Sunnyside researcher in cosplay or in regular clothes, he would sneak up to them to ask for a selfie. Sometimes, he changed his clothes to look like another person, changing each time, of course. They gladly did so and it provided the best moment to pickpocket them. He was starting to feel like Wolf; doing all of this smoothly.
Once he arrived at the manga booth, he kept at least seven Eden Apples in his jacket. He was about to keep the last one until he felt Webs hopping back onto his shoulder.
"Sharkey!" squealed the tiny tarantula. "How many you got?"
"Seven, babe!" whooped Shark. "But dang, you got one plus than me!"
"Still a good number, big fella!" said Webs, taking the Eden Apple to admire it. "Seven, twenty-four hours. If it makes you feel better, I took the longest with watching over-"
"Um…what is that?" asked Gumbo quietly.
Oops. They were in the middle of celebrating that they forgot to hide them immediately. The crocodile's eyes were wide in astonishment of the glowing orb in Webs' small hands. His jaw was wide open, looking like he could crunch the ball easily.
Shark clenched his teeth, trying to appear intimidating. "W-We told you not…to question."
Unfortunately, Gumbo was hypnotized by the glow of the orb. He could…feel it somehow. He felt really energetic by being this close.
He slowly looked up at them with a meek look. "Sorry, I just go…what is it exactly?"
Webs scoffed, patting the Eden Apple like a pet. "Don't fret, pal. The sooner we get all of them, the sooner your country is liberated from-!"
And one massive slap over it caused the orb to act in response. It sent large turquoise bolts through Webs' body, her skeleton visible as she twitched. Her limbs seemed to burst out in different angles, smoke pouring out from her black clothes. Once it was done, there was nothing else to comment about the reaction.
The soot-covered Webs coughed, ash spat out from her mouth. "...see?"
The Eden Apple hummed in response as a deadly warning.
It dawned on Gumbo that the Bad Guys weren't here for petty theft after all. For their talk on 'targets', this turquoise orb was one of them and it could fry a person like a roast. Webs got out fine, but if people hid such a new weapon like this…the crocodile felt sick in the stomach, now thinking about what would happen if he successfully arrested the Bad Guys.
"I'm addressing safety as well. Just promise me that you won't pry into whatever business the Bad Guys have. They are some of the most infamous crime gangs of California, but if the government is collaborating with them, then that would mean it's something none of us understand."
And hiring someone like him to do the job might be out of his league. The Bad Guys were more savvy in dealing with…villains.
Gumbo grinned nervously, clearly in the mood of running away. "I-I think I'll sit this one out."
Shark sighed in relief. "Phew! Thank you. They'll be gone before you know it."
The crocodile internally prayed that these Bad Guys knew what they were doing.
With Gumbo wisely not taking this matter into his hands, Shark and Webs found themselves feeling more relaxed. Being on the hunt would still be fun, but one less problem in this undercover mission. The trio eventually moved on with the meek Gumbo dragging his tail behind his legs.
As they came near the end of the Japanese alley, they came across a fashion booth. Their trackers detected a nearby Eden Apple. And that came from a sleazy Sunnyside researcher staring at a woman trying out a summer Japanese outfit. The latter looked disturbed, glaring at the man as he continued staring. She tried stepping away back into the changing room, but he leaned closer to her.
Gumbo sighed, slowly taking out his badge. "I have enough with all this-"
"Hold on," said Shark. "Let me make the situation easier for you."
As the proud master of disguise, he walked through a heavily crowded clothesline and popped out from the other side in a complete Geisha outfit. Complete with a black wig and white face painting. Shark was already in character the second he got through and let out a flirty chuckle. The oogling man's attention switched to him, hearts growing larger in his eyes.
To Gumbo's second jaw-drop, this convinced the man to lure closer with a hungry lick of his lips.
Double shocking when Shark seemed to flash his cups. Webs, sitting on Gumbo's shoulder, noticeably looked away.
Triple shocking when Shark headbutted the panting man and then smashed a mirror over his head.
Despite the man lying on the floor, the woman sighed in relief with a thankful smile.
Gumbo had a lot of questions as he picked up the unconscious researcher by the collar.
"You could have asked him to come quietly," he grumbled.
"But was my acting OK?" asked Shark, casually removing the disguise. "I was worried that my little giggle might be too much."
"If you're looking for feedback," said Webs as she snatched the Eden Apple from the researcher's pocket. "You did this too stereotypical."
Shark giggled. "No wonder why you don't like white face painting!"
As soon as Gumbo called guards to take the creep away, the trio departed. Their cloudy walk was met with a look up at the glass ceiling and the darkening clouds above. Can't remember what time it is. There might be a storm soon around noon.
It was at this time that Gumbo decided to try asking again. He remembered back to the badges Shark and Webs picked up…
"Um, I know a couple of drag queens," he said. "So…does that have something to do with being…non-binary?"
Shark answered without thinking. "Crossdressing can be a hobby for anymore. Becoming non-binary is another separate thing recently."
Though, the crocodile didn't seem to understand how that could be considered separate. He knew that Shark and Webs weren't pleased with his earliest thoughts.
Maybe due to his job as a cop, it was impossible to know more about these criminals.
But by asking more could get him to understand and rationalize, he hoped.
He was careful about how he said his words. "How this ties with looks…connecting to being a man and a woman at different times? You seem passionate about acting both ways, so that explains the whole 'they/them' pronouns."
Shark chuckled a little. "Is that so?"
"And you still dress like a man, so that makes you still considered male."
Shark raised an eyebrow, not sure what Gumbo was getting onto. "So?"
"Maybe…would that mean you often have to wear something easier to comprehend?"
"Easier for who?"
And at this point, Gumbo let his mouth do all the talking, losing track of what to say.
"Well…for you since not many people like me would understand. OK, I did kind of forget that you're a con artist. Maybe adopting a non-binary identity or status allows you to…" He briefly clenched his teeth with a hum. "...be a woman since you aren't one. I get the feeling it's like you're not happy with how you were born and it's not working out? I mean, being frustrated is alright. I know that. But you gotta work with what you have. That's life."
Naive Gumbo didn't realize what he said.
This actually prompted Shark to halt, deep in thought.
His father's words rang in his ear alongside the worries he held onto for a long time. For acting…different. And this was a reminder that he didn't prove enough for what he was told of his place in this world.
Shark tried to believe Gumbo was acting stupid, but his words echoing and replaying in his mind were filtered by his father's deep voice.
"And until next time, please remove that golden earring. It makes you look too ridiculous."
It was one step away from being the man his father wanted. For making himself look like a fool to not having the guts to shank an innocent.
Not even needing to see Shark's reaction, still sitting on his shoulder, Webs tapped on Gumbo's thick neck in disbelief. She was nearly tempted to snarl, but tried to keep her voice to a whisper.
"What are you exactly referring to?" she hissed.
Gumbo raised an eyebrow, but his eyes widened when he saw Shark's hands shaking.
"I…" The crocodile realized that he had screwed up. Again. "I thought it was…sense we could all understand?"
Webs closed her eyes, her fists clenched. "W-We're not delusional. Saying that worked once, why not run it back?"
A sigh from Shark, closing his eyes. Fearing that Webs might cause a fight. As he faced the two, he tried to appear stoic, but it was softened by his worries. Those that made him weak, he believed.
"Webs," he muttered, his voice forcibly flat. "Enough."
Webs' temper nearly grew when she heard this. But when she whipped to Shark, one look at his resigned look perturbed her.
"Shark…" she started.
"Webs, I-I mean, he's not wrong," muttered Shark, faking a smile. "I mean, it's just me in my own dreams. Not like it's true, you know…"
Webs was already impatient, wanting to tell Gumbo directly that Shark didn't take anything for granted. But she was silent when her friend did. Shark looked like he didn't want to try arguing. However, she didn't really want to leave her friend uneasy and have another reason to push himself down.
And when she turned around to see Gumbo, feeling him twitching, it was when she could see how tongue-tied things became.
The crocodile barely slouched, remaining standing tall. However, his body was trembling. He looked close to breaking down, but not enough. Close by, she could feel his shoulders shivering in apprehension. His sharp teeth were exposed, clenched, but they looked close to hiding underneath his lips. And to her surprise, they were the blockage to his restrained heavy breathing.
That was suddenly quick for the crocodile to break down.
In Gumbo's mind, everything was falling apart. It suddenly didn't feel right. He didn't know what he was exactly saying. Again. And yet, he knew the reactions. Those that told him things he shouldn't say.
Did he forget that this was something that would actually hurt a lot?
He didn't mean it, right?
The worry of that got his fingers digging into his palms, his sharp claws nearly stabbing into them. But the spiky feeling wasn't enough to break him out of his scared mind. Especially when he was starting to see the Bad Guys are more than black-hearted criminals.
His voice was hopelessly a stutter. "M-Mr. Shark. I-I thought…"
Shark winced, biting his lip. "Don't finish it. I know."
"No, no. My opinion was stupid. I'm sorry…"
Shark's eyes looked somewhere else. For a moment, Gumbo swore he saw resentment in them. "It is stupid. I get it. I'm senseless, am I?"
Webs sighed, raising her arm. "Guys. I think…"
Out of nowhere, a ball flew right into Gumbo's head and the crocodile nearly lost balance.
Upon impact, it then bounced around like a pinball in the room until it crashed into Shark's nose harmlessly. It finally dribbled weakly on the floor before rolling towards the shoes of a little girl.
The small, little bean picked it up and looked at Gumbo. She giggled, her eyes bright in recognition. The crocodile stopped shivering, recognizing the girl as well.
"Mr. Gumbo!" squeaked the young girl.
She threw the ball at him and he caught it without looking. All of a sudden, his highly-strung demeanor was gone and he appeared more relaxed. But when he threw it back, Webs could hear the groan hidden in his mouth from the interference…until the girl threw the ball back at him again.
The crocodile's eyes shone in surprise and, this time, it was the positive kind.
Shark blinked a few times, patting his cheeks to make sure they weren't wet. He thought Gumbo might snap, but the unexpected encounter seemed to rid any agitation he carried. The giant shark stepped forward, seeing the clueless look on Gumbo. He watched in wonder, surprised by his attitude softening around the human girl. In fact, he nearly forgot about their previous discussion.
As the young girl came close as she dared, Gumbo bent down to his knee at a good eye level. "Kind…of busy at the moment. Would it be alright if…?"
He would have asked the girl to go, but he noticed she was alone. He glanced at Webs on his shoulder, but her focus was more on the young girl.
Both Bad Guys silently questioned how a young girl could come up to a tall, hulking crocodile without fear.
Adding to their confusion, the girl's mother, a strong-looking woman with blonde hair, rushed in to grab the girl by her shoulders. She briefly gave Gumbo a thankful look before checking over her daughter's body.
"Oh, there you are!" she said, hugging the girl a bit too tightly. "Thought you got hurt."
Her daughter didn't mind her mother smothering her, already too excited about the crocodile. "Mummy! Look! It's Mr. Gumbo again!"
The mother didn't miss a beat when she turned to Gumbo. "First time you played with, let alone talked to her."
Gumbo didn't even act like this was unusual, nodding awkwardly. "Her ball bumped into me, Mrs. Claire."
The mother noticed Shark and Webs trying to grin sheepishly. Her mind went into a mental block, but an idea came to mind when she saw their proximity to Gumbo. Especially Webs.
"You must have invited some unexpected friends, Milton," she said.
Gumbo narrowed his eyes. "It's 'Gumbo'. And they're not 'friends'."
Webs coughed, rubbing her left arm. "We just met."
"Really?" said Mrs. Claire, genuinely curious. "Well, he's usually quiet and follows."
"We were paid to follow him?"
"Cops don't bride people," muttered Gumbo. "People bride cops."
"And this isn't an act?" asked Mrs. Claire.
The three looked at each other before shaking their heads.
"...well, some trust is starting to come to light!" admitted Shark, shrugging. "Surprisingly."
The giant shark put aside his worries when he saw the crocodile shyly looking away. He couldn't help giggling at the embarrassed Gumbo. In a way, it was the best payback, even if it wasn't exactly teasing.
Gumbo himself was grateful that Mrs. Claire barely mentioned her conversations with his parents about his social skills. It would suck if someone poked a hole in his lack of direct engagements.
Mrs. Claire looked proud, however. "It's good you invited a few companions along to your favorite convention."
"Mrs. Claire," said Gumbo, sweating at this point. "I'm in the middle of something…"
The female human nodded respectfully. "Ah, sorry if we disturbed your conversation. Say goodbye to Mr. Gumbo, sweetie!"
The little girl immediately rushed to the crocodile and wrapped her arms around his leg. Gumbo used a lot of willpower to not lean away, letting the little girl have this moment.
"Bye, Mr. Gumbo!" she said happily. And then, she rushed towards Shark to give him a hug. "Bye, Mr. Shark!"
Shark didn't expect this, but he was in awe at the adorable child glomping him. "Aww…"
Mrs. Claire nearly thought of calling her daughter again but seeing the gentle and strangely cute Shark cooing made her hesitate to act. It was when Shark let her daughter go that told her how these supposed 'Bad Guys' had changed significantly a year ago. Webs didn't want a hug but gave a friendly wave to the little girl as she merrily skipped back to her mother.
She looked back at Gumbo with an approving smile. The crocodile's blush took a pretty pink color and soon, his tail began wagging.
As the two humans left, Shark and Webs knew they would still have to deal with Gumbo. The young crocodile was acting a little differently than they thought. His spiked tail was wagging, but then it stopped waving around after a few seconds.
Webs rubbed her eyes, trying to see if this was really real. "OK, I have questions. But now, what just happened?"
As if he processed their presence, he yelped and spun around. "Oh! Sorry! Sorry, just my old neighbor."
While unnerved, his rather casual statement surprised Shark and Webs. Something told them the humans tolerated HIM better than any Bad Guys. Unless he already went through the same thing they did. Webs glanced up at Gumbo before looking back at Shark. Despite the friendly nature of Melbourne, its civilians appeared to be too kind towards predator animals.
Shark's sorrow slowly developed into hidden envy and vibrant confusion. "It sounds like that girl just met you for the first time. And she didn't hesitate!"
Gumbo stared blankly at them. "She did?"
When he noticed the similar blank stares, he realized they were referring to something specific.
He held his hands up. "OK, I-I do not understand this. Tell me what I did wrong."
This was enough proof that he didn't receive the same treatment as the Bad Guys had. Backed up by his misunderstanding towards a non-binary gender identity, he was like anyone else who judged a book by its cover.
But he wasn't acting blind right now, especially with his reading glasses kept away.
It was rare for even a police cop to ask for clarification from the Bad Guys. It only happened when they were proven innocent.
Webs rubbed her hands together, her face crumpling a bit. "I…don't know if we could agree on this. You had those people freely talking to you. Touching you without worry. And that lady acted like she knew you for a very long time. I'll be honest, you look tough to talk to and you act like it and then, you suddenly become approachable."
Shark tilted his head, only confused. "I'm not saying I'm really jealous of you. I-I had similar encounters last night. You're…you're a cop. You're not even treated as a bad guy. Like you had that good tingle for your entire life."
"You know Marmalade only said that as nonsense," pointed out Gumbo bluntly.
It only took a few seconds for him to note how insensitive that was. He looked down at Webs, who was sitting patiently on his shoulder. Shark was standing there, his hands together like an obedient schoolgirl. Both their eyes were filled with curiosity and jealousy.
When Gumbo reflected on the good tingle, he turned to his tail. It felt natural yet satisfying to feel it swaying around. He didn't feel ashamed of that. He admired how tough it looked while being the only thing that showed more than his blank state. And that was when he remembered he nearly considered looking like the Bad Guys anyway.
He blushed again, crossed his arms and wrapped his tail around his legs.
"Right," he muttered, feeling out of touch. "OK, I'm aware that I'm a big, scary crocodile. I don't know why, but the land down under is much like the movies. I don't even amount to the stereotype and…stuff like that. I don't even know the last time I felt like an animal."
Feeling awful of his behavior, he sighed with a regretful look.
"I get so caught up wanting to finish my work that I don't feel the need to be aware of everything else. Including…people. I have a problem of hyperfixating when I was younger."
"To be honest, I thought you were like Mr. Snake," said Shark matter-of-factly. "Putting up an attitude that you don't care."
"No, no, I mean, I DO care," corrected Gumbo, his tail curling upwards. He might not recognize it, but his tail lifting upwards illustrated his not-so-reclusive skin. "It's just bad habits. It's a bad habit whenever I don't see anything wrong with…and it backfired today when I applied what felt right to me when..."
He couldn't say further, turning his head in the opposite direction of Webs.
"I'm so sorry, Shark. I-I didn't mean to think you were senseless. I didn't know that would hurt a lot."
It was a surprise to Shark to see this cop admitting his flawed thinking. Maybe holding his own prejudice made him estranged from 'savage animals', but now, he was trying to understand.
It wasn't an excuse, but the crocodile had the potential to try understanding them. Even though it seemed to have happened before, Shark was able to see this fellow as different from his father. Gumbo did care. He just didn't seem flexible yet when it came to understanding others.
Shark could only hope this could be when the crocodile start to learn. He really appreciated the honesty.
"I can't hold this forever against you, man," he said earnestly. "The 'senseless' part was…something I even made up."
"If it makes you feel comfortable, then I can go…" offered Gumbo sadly.
"No," said Webs, lightly slapping Gumbo's lower jaw. Even though she was still peeved, she did see earlier that Gumbo wasn't blind; he did talk to them as if they were normal. "You can still come with us. I thought we're becoming friends." And to lighten the mood, she smirked. "And as a cop, you can't back down on a deal because of honor, truth and bla, bla, bla."
This seemed to cheer the crocodile up as he was chuckling lightly. "It's not like that…but you're right."
Shark exhaled heavily, holding his forgiving hand up for a handshake. "So coolio, babe?"
Gumbo took a while to return the handshake. He felt he didn't deserve it, but a lesser man would damage severely. And he found himself growing close to these eccentric Bad Guys. Well, he didn't want to let his guard down but they were different. This was where he could create a connection directly.
Shark, for his kind-hearted nature. Webs, for her wit and sass. These two were surprisingly honorable, both in their deal and their mission. He wouldn't tolerate hiccups, but it was a start.
"Coolio, mate," he said with a gentle smile, shaking Shark's hand. "But if I see you digging into a purse, I don't care about defying my boss."
Shark smirked. He was about to comment…and then, his attention was taken away by a fun-looking game blasting awesome carnival music.
"Soooooo, maybe to blow off some steam…" he offered with a mischievous grin. "We can do the strongman game!"
He spun the crocodile around, moving his feet backwards to not get accidentally whipped by the crocodile's tail. Gumbo was presented at the sight of a couple of kids trying to play the 'Test Your Strength' game. One had the mallet and raised it over his head…only to accidentally swing it too highly, basing it into someone's face.
"That…game?" asked Gumbo, raising an eye. "Is it a good one?"
"Oh, well, it tests your strength," said Shark, patting the crocodile on the arms. "Perhaps it might tell you how much beef you and I have."
Feeling Shark's hand pressing his biceps, Gumbo grew shy and thought of pulling out of the game. Much like reading the manga, this was becoming a bit too dangerous. Just because he kept himself fit didn't mean he was this strong…but then again, both he and Shark were big. This could be something they could connect on?
The crocodile sighed relucantly. "OK. OK. Fine…"
As Shark requested, Gumbo went first and Webs hopped onto Shark's shoulders. She noted his keen grin, wondering how this would go. This contrasted with the crocodile's awkward shuffling towards the amusement game. He didn't seem to brag about his obvious strength. In fact, he seemed to be trying to psyche himself up by rolling his arms around.
"Alright," Gumbo muttered, picking up the main mallet. "Just a simple hit. No need to go to the top. It's not vain, it's an average show…"
If anything, it was the opposite. The crocodile spun the mallet around in one hand and slammed it against the bottom. Hard enough to get the puck shooting upwards and hitting the bell. The game's speakers sung in victory, complete with confetti shooting out from the top.
The surrounding crowd cheered loudly, impressed by such strength.
Gumbo remained humble, not even trying to exaggerate his muscles when he stretched his arms upwards. "Eh, nothing much. Once born big, always big for the rest of your life."
"Oh, sure does!" said Shark, taking the mallet. "My turn!"
"Just be careful where you swing that, buddy," said Webs, clinging on his collar.
Much like Gumbo, he didn't need to do much. He spun the mallet in his hand and slammed it against the bottom. The puck shot up so hard this time that it knocked the bell off and continued flying straight in the air. And into the ceiling…where a ninja wannabe assassin was hiding.
When the puck knocked the side of his head, he panicked and fell backwards. The grappling hook was the only thing that saved him from falling. But still under the belief he was shot in the head, the assassin screamed incoherently and flailed his limbs around.
Everybody was cheering below, wildly celebrating Shark's impressive strength. Like watching a team deliver the final kick to the goalpost.
"Oh yeah, baby!" said Shark, pumping his arms up and down. "That's what I'm talking about!"
"I knew you still got that power, king!" whooped Webs, flapping Shark's jacket collar up and down.
Being the only one who checking his surroundings, Gumbo was left jaw-slack at the now-damaged 'Test Your Strength' game, staring at where the bell used to be.
And then, he looked upwards to see the exposed assassin from the ceiling, a victim of Shark's apparent super strength. Before he splattered onto the floor near him. The crocodile internally cringed, taking a step away from the body.
From what he could tell, the Bad Guys WERE really different.
Dreary Household
One would say that Spalding had a neat and luxurious office room in his house as the well-esteemed Chancellor of Dreary Dream University. He was the man. He was everything. He was a common man, but a complete man and you should show that respect to him. Even if he was a pug, he bore a face far more intelligent than a lower pug. His eyes didn't bulge; a lesser dog would have their eyes squeezed out until they couldn't see anymore.
However, his personal office room for his own handiwork said the opposite. Too many folders and newspapers stacked in piles, invading every shelf and table possible. A few papers and sheets stuck out from them, not even in the right category! And many of these piles were topped with his taxes.
With no idea of what to do, Spalding's head rested against the table while fiddling a pencil on paper. But there was no aim. Just a random scribble on the basis of being boring, not even caring if he accidentally pressed the pencil onto the wooden table. Nor did he bother hearing the clatter of books or folders falling from the table when he bumped his elbow into them. He was uncaring, already familiar with these things.
Looking back at his scribble, he was surprised it was only small. His habit of scribbling only happened whenever he was irritated. He knew it would happen whenever being blamed on. That got him wanting to stab someone. That got him needing the drug again to feel understanding for once. And this happened earlier today, leaving him sulking about…
One of his ears flapped upwards. Thelma looked around his room, closing the door behind her. She rarely came up here. A hint of disgust towards her father's rather unassorted study place. When she turned to see her father, she swallowed anxiously.
She was expecting her father to narrow his eyes at her.
Fiddling her fingers together, she kept her head high to face him, ready for the awkward talk. Yesterday's events were running through Thelma's head, but she forced herself to remember them to know what she wanted to talk about.
"What are you doing here?" asked Spalding, disinterested.
"Thought that we were going to chat about my little 'Bloody Mary' incident?" asked Thelma, pulling one of her ears.
Spalding was about to ask what she meant until he remembered. After reports on Thelma's little plan in framing Shark visiting the university's play, he was speechless about the use of fake blood. He had no words, but an awkward reassurance of a clean-up. He could have commented on Shark's reaction, but no words to describe his surprise came to public.
Despite receiving so many calls and complaints, he actually wasn't too mad. He did see that it went wrong. But Thelma was testing Shark's nature. Proving a savage to be innocent would take guts. In the end, it only a harmless experiment.
"If I were you, I would have come up with a strategic plan and waited for a few days," he said. "I would have done better."
This wasn't the response Thelma expected.
"So you would rather find real pig's blood?" she questioned, tilting her head.
Spalding whistled, standing up. "Know what, forget it. About that shark, well, points to not…addicted to blood? Or good at pretending. But I heard that you listened to him."
Unbeknownst to them, the door behind Thelma was locked. From the other side, Snake's jelly snake robots were at work twisting the knob's lock. Once they couldn't twist the knob further, they flicked their tongues in content before slithering away. Many other jelly snake robots were also in the house, biting the wires of a few security cameras planted inside.
Outside, Snake watched from a bush to see the jelly snake robots getting to work with the security cameras outside. He flicked his tongue when he stared back at his tracker device, watching his children destroying those cameras.
"All security cameras are shut down," he said with a hardened look. "Both outside and inside. They won't detect a single data. The only danger now is the two Dreary mops."
Snake was back to being serious, acting like this was an extremely difficult heist.
Piranha chuckled evilly, rubbing his hands together.
Meanwhile, Fuchsia kept her head low in the bushes, holding a pair of binoculars to see through the windows.
The trio made sure that no neighbor from nearby was watching. This street was surprisingly empty. Everyone was already in their houses.
"Hmm, no sign of those dogs," Fuchsia said, lowering her binoculars. "So…now what?"
"Now, time to wreak some havoc!" said Piranha, leaping out of the bush. "We already checked their security cameras. We already checked their alarms. We can do everything else now, starting with Phase 1!"
At this, Piranha pulled out a large black box with colorful balloon bombs inside the bush. Snake randomly picked one up, only for Piranha to slap his tail.
"No touchy!" hissed Piranha. "Remember the plan. We can't waste them all."
"Jeez, alright," grumbled Snake, rolling his eyes.
The little fish then turned to Fuchsia. "And for you, little rosemary, I decide you'll be our toilet paper senorita."
Fuchsia went wide-eyed "Toilet paper?"
Snake gave a little shrug and pulled out a massive three-barrel gun weapon from his jacket. It looked more like a toy paintball gun with only two additional barrels attached to it for extra firepower. Fuchsia's eyes were filled in awe by the weird weapon, feeling its grand weight stored in her fragile, little hands. It was heavy. It was tough. It was magic.
This must be what holding a block of gold felt like.
"Now, your next lesson as a maniac," instructed Piranha, puffing his chest up. "You cannot always use a knife since you'll get messy. A killer would prefer their own weapon but must have the tenacity to use other kinds. Pretend the house is one ugly monster! Its skin can burn from the touch of wood-made paper."
Fuchsia only looked confused. "I'm…not a shooter. I haven't even played Call of Duty yet!"
"My aim is a little rusty but on point. Call this your open hunting ground. Just press the trigger of this toilet paper gun and you'll be on your way!"
Fuchsia wasn't too interested in using shooting or long-distance weapons, but Piranha made a good point. While unsure, she waddled forward and stood in front of the house. The two Bad Guys behind her already went to the household's car parked outside the garage.
Knowing she was on her own, the red-eyed piranha sighed and aimed at the rooftop.
Nothing came out.
She clicked the trigger again.
Empty.
She groaned, looking inside one of the barrels. She slapped the weapon on its side and pressed the trigger again.
Fuchsia was greeted by several rolls of toilet paper hitting her eye. A scream followed from the toilet paper rolling upwards into the sky. It was a spectacular sight of a long rail toilet paper shooting upwards, flying backwards in the air due to the strong wind current.
Unfortunately, due to the long toilet paper still attached to the ammo inside the weapon, Fuchsia found herself also carried by the wind current. On the first feeling of being dragged, she dug the tip of her boots into the dirt. It looked like she was trying to hold on a slippery balloon she won from the carnival. The wind blew once again. And she found herself being lifted.
Snake glanced behind to see Fuchsia having the craziest merry-go-round in her life. The flying toilet paper roll was swirling around in the air to form a tornado…with the screaming Fuchsia holding onto the end part of it. Her small size made it easier for the wind to pick her up, leaving her spinning around like a ballerina waving her ribbon.
The reptile felt a sweat drop rolling down the side of his face. One thing he was grateful for being a snake was that he would be too heavy to be picked up by paper.
"Hermano!" called Piranha, pushing himself onto the car's roof. "How do you say we totalled a university president's car?"
The sweet, sweet golden car was a sight to behold and for one to serve Spalding's domination. The sight of it made Snake envy enough to want to switch places with his bully. It looked quite bulgy and tough, considering that the oversized wheels resembled monster truck wheels. In his mind, he imagined Wolf telling him off for ruining such a beautiful car.
That being said, he had no idea where to start.
"What's your suggestion?" asked Snake randomly.
"Hmm, how about this?" said Piranha, pulling out his guns. "Usually, we paint them until they are unremovable!"
In the same manner of firing missiles, Piranha shot several chalk projectiles above him. They exploded in the air, showering over him and the car in colorful powder. The only difference was that the powder looked like dirt, judging by the fatter smudges coating the car's shiny paint.
Snake sat back and watched with an amused smirk as the little fish danced underneath the raining powder. It was when he realized this wouldn't be how they should ruin a car. Just smearing it in washable pink and blue wouldn't work. The amusement from the reptile's eyes turned into annoyance of the ineffective idea.
"I got a better idea," he said, his raspy voice with an edge of confidence.
"What?" said Piranha innocently, covered in pink and blue soot.
"This!"
Out of nowhere, Snake pulled out a long electrical whip. Or at least it looked like a whip. It could look like a sharp, razor-green ribbon. It didn't look like soft paper at all. As soon as he pulled it out, light turquoise sparkles ran through it, unsafe to touch.
Piranha immediately jumped backwards, letting Snake take a slash right at the front window.
Slap. Slap. Slap. That was all he could hear, ignorant to the deep wounds on the golden paint. It was his paint that exposed the ugly black parts inside. Scratching would make buying new paint to repaint it expensive. No spare specks of gold, letting the ugly metallic shell to be seen.
The more scratches, the less pretty it looked. And Snake was enjoying it, not even noticing how hard he waved the whip up and down.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" chirped Piranha, bouncing up and down. "Let me try! Let me try!"
Snake smirked, happy to let the younger Bad Guy have the whip. After all, he knew how much the little fish loved violence.
He stepped aside to let Piranha have his fun with the whip. Thankfully, he was careful not to tase himself, whipping the car many times. However, his way of leaving scratches was repeatedly slamming it over the top of the car, leaving a larger dent in the car's roof. The dent could be seen from INSIDE. Snake's grin wider, tasting the sugary revenge he never knew he needed.
That faltered when Piranha hit the car so hard that it left a HOLE in the car. It was first seen when the end of the whip poked through the car. And then Piranha slammed the whip on the car harder, leaving more holes. And then jumping on top of it, creating MORE holes in the roof.
And then pulling out a massive sledgehammer to smack the car down for good measure.
Snake's jaw dropped. It happened in seconds that he couldn't recall what exactly happened in certain stages of Piranha's progress. By the time he was done, there wasn't much left of the car, absolutely pancaked.
Only the tires remained standing-wait, no. Piranha slapped the whip against one of the wheels, popping the rubber tire.
The little fish stopped, panting heavily. He was giving off one of the evilest grins he could ever make, saliva trailing from the corner of his mouth. Both of his pupils were shaking, with one of his eyes twitching. A reborn madness that Snake knew from Piranha.
The second Piranha turned to the shocked Snake, the craziness was gone. Shame came over, hiding away the joy he got out from this. Piranha wiped his face, snapping out of his craziness.
He just…lashed out.
He lashed out!
And he had been doing so well with being humble for the last couple of days.
"S-Sorry!" stuttered Piranha, his body beginning to shiver. "I just-I was…erm, I-"
Snake's blank state remained, but he sounded impressed. "Actually, this is more like it. Reminds me of whenever you flip police cars over."
The reptile felt like Piranha did justice for once. He came closer and gently rubbed the latter's head with his tail. A smirk formed, one of pride.
"You know you're still a killer rabbit, don't you?" joked Snake.
Piranha sighed in relief. The patting on his head helped cool him down. Snake wasn't mad at him, which was good. Though, he appeared a little proud of him?
Snake quickly looked back at his tracker device. Through one of the jelly snake robots spying, neither Spalding nor Thelma paid attention to the loud sounds of their car being destroyed. They seemed to be conversing deeply, with Spalding angrily shoving one of the books from the table.
Good. At least they were distracted.
Piranha was about to ask Snake about his minor breakdown, but their attention drifted to seeing Fuchsia finally using up all the toilet paper. The majority of it ended up blanketing the green grass of the garden. It even formed a large mountain in the center; one that resembled an ice cream cone. Fuchsia's red eyes could be seen through the gaps of the toilet paper. Eventually, she popped her head out of it.
"And they said snow is impossible in Melbourne," uttered Snake.
"D-Did I managed to cover some of…this…thing on the house?" squeaked Fuchsia, sounding small.
Piranha glanced at the house. To his relief, not all the toilet paper was wasted drastically. A good portion of it already covered the rooftops and dangled over the red brick wall. He wished there was more, but it was about the right size of toilet paper to make the house look like it was trying to wear a white wig.
"I think you did," he said. "It looks like enough by now."
Without hesitating, Fuchsia pulled out her phone to take a selfie of herself buried in the toilet paper mountain.
Spalding leaned back in his chair, a hand over his head. He was glad he and Thelma already wrapped up his earlier 'shouting' in the morning, but it soured his mood. But when he thought back to Thelma, he forced himself to take a deep breath in. His lips were curled up in frustration, but he couldn't turn that anger towards Thelma.
Not when her daughter looked like she was one step away from opening the door. She already understood the facts about the world they live in. While he thought of telling her off for sympathizing, he decided not to make a big deal yet.
This was Thelma's first time experiencing criminals like the Bad Guys.
He stood up, coming close to his daughter. Once close, he gently placed a hand around Thelma's shoulder. A little protectively as well, keeping her head close to his shoulder.
"I'll just make this sweet and simple," he muttered. "Thelma, you know I won't be here to guide you someday. I have to warn you again about being around dangerous people. We both know that the Bad Guys choose to continue being bad, so it's questionable to take their word. One thing I didn't expect was Governor Foxington backing them up."
Thelma was standing still, but she was refraining herself from trembling. However, she learned not to show emotion in a serious chat. When she should put her head in the game to prove she acknowledge everything
She trusts her father; he's a good guy.
He was holding her too close to him.
"But from what I learnt, we can be better than their ideas," continued Spalding, switching to his daughter's other shoulder. A smile of anticipation and glory, remembering his successes. "Obviously, your plan has many gaps in it. I can sort through the concerns and lawsuit threats but don't forget next time. Just think how you should plan testing a person's con since research analysis is key."
Thelma huffed to herself. The only thing she analyzed from Shark was that he looked like he loved eating people. Spalding made that theory clear. And the unexpected happened when Shark went into a nasty breakdown at the sight of the fake blood she used.
A twinge of guilt tightened her stomach. She was suddenly afraid again. The image of Shark staring down at her, his dull and upset eyes looking into her soul. Maybe not deathly afraid like a phobia. Maybe confronting the implication that she wasn't careful in picking those who never wanted to hurt anyone, even after trying to make him look bad in front of many witnesses.
Maybe he had his own issues that he later believed wouldn't matter anymore if people tried to understand. I know that feeling. And I know that's hard to understand."
Damn right, it was. She had some time thinking about Oliver, but she still wondered if it was his fault for not getting help wisely. On the other hand, given that he only snapped randomly, a lot was going on with the Bad Guys. They only seemed functional whenever Diane was with them, explaining why they didn't attack.
The female dog sighed, taking the risk of voicing her concern.
"You weren't there to see their reactions," she whispered. Her voice was lowered to a timid whisper, fearful. "You didn't see why I 'listened' to Lou. I had some thoughts this morning. Don't get me wrong, I was filled with apathy and contempt towards Oliver, but when I thought back to you trying to attack Stevie, that got me thinking a little. It's a little weird he doesn't retaliate, isn't it?"
Spalding was confused. "Yeah. Good. He should be afraid. Not us."
"I don't recall you knowing the snake before," said Thelma, crossing her arms. "What's your history with him? What's…your proof that he was meant to be in the ground?"
Spalding grew quiet, his eyes suddenly filled with terror. This wasn't a question his daughter would usually ask.
Thelma could only wonder what got her father and Snake to be on different sides, like how she constantly criticized Oliver for his species, behavior and temper. She recalled the nervous reactions from the two Bad Guys whenever she and her father were around. She didn't bother giving the benefit of doubt since she would blame them for their responses, but it…spoke a lot that the 'sinister' Mr. Snake turned into a pathetic and cowardly worm around Spalding.
Spalding must have done something a lot to Snake that reduced the latter's inability to stand up for himself.
Unlike her, Spalding was hesitant to think about his past. He looked distraught. But before she could sense any guilt, he looked away to hide any cracks of vulnerability.
"What happened before is not important," he said quietly. "What's important now is what we're doing. Please don't grow soft on them."
Thelma inhaled sharply. "I'm not growing soft! I'm just having questions. Is that a crime?"
Spalding was about to argue but stopped. She wasn't trying to spite him. "...no. At least that is insignificant to what Stevie and his gang are doing with their life. Don't dwell on them since it's their choice. We should not bury our points for an aimless gang of animals."
"But what if they are not too aimless? I-I did…have a talk with Lou and…" Thelma trailed off, cutting her frequent pauses to a clear end. She would rather be silent than see her father's intense glare.
It was a lucky day for her since Spalding thought carefully before he spoke. "Huh. I see. But it doesn't excuse what he did before. I'll give points that Mr. Shark is aware. It's them causing problems on purpose I'm worried about. Next thing possible, a protest rises like they never listen to God about anything. All of their flashy outfits and baby toys. The freaks will turn our town upside down."
Thelma couldn't help but wince when Spalding mentioned a 'protest'. She knew he would worry about this whenever something didn't fit into their clean norms. It was the only way for balance and a less stressful life. This was why he fell behind when trying to talk about the LGBTQ+ club despite advocating it in the end.
At this moment, Thelma realized that the colors the Bad Guys wore were inspired by Pride flags she had seen across the campus. In fact, Thelma realized that Shark's outfit reinforced his choice to label himself as non-binary.
"...yeah…it's a bit of an exaggeration. I don't want to talk about it with you. I'm sorry."
Thelma had no idea if Shark was ready to identify himself with non-binary pronouns, but it was no longer her business to learn. She wondered if that was a low-life problem too by her father's knowledge. She couldn't find the words to say what she was starting to learn from all of this; how she could tell who was good or bad.
Back outside, Snake, Piranha and Fuchsia retreated to the garden. After using the leftover toilet paper, the house was fully covered in white and Piranha already gave the car one last nice kick. Satisfied, he hopped around, landing right back onto the pavement to set some distance between him and the house.
"Alright!" he said, wiggling his shaky hands. "Now, time for the big finale!"
"OK, but why come out the way here?" asked Fuchsia.
"Thought we already vandalized enough!" said Snake a little too loudly.
The little fish whipped to him, about to tell him to be quiet. But he didn't have the motivation to do so when he saw the enormous grin on Snake's face. His chest was heaving from all that damage they did to the car. It was exhilarating.
Piranha grinned in delight at how cheerful Snake was. This prank worked!
"Oh, we just need to give a nice, humble slice of kindness," said Piranha with a slasher grin. "A warm plate of kindness. Snake, think you can go slingshot mode again?"
Snake whistled. "You're sure about this? Last time you did, you broke ALL the windows in our hideouts in one shot and we had to steal from Baron to fix them."
"It should be fine! We aren't throwing pianos this time!"
Despite his earlier question, Snake had already gone into slingshot mode. He kept his head straight upwards and the meaty section of his body at a similar angle to form a V-shape. Piranha pulled out a giant rubber band from his jacket and wrapped it around Snake's coils. They didn't have all the time to make a proper slingshot, so Snake's sturdy body would have to do.
With Snake in place, Piranha pulled back out the box of balloon bombs from the bush.
"This is why we saved these for last," said Piranha, pulling one out.
Fuchsia hummed, nodding. "Never knew you were a classic prankster."
"It's OK. Most of my pranks fail." One balloon bomb ammo placed onto the rubber band and they were ready to go. "Open fire!"
Both piranhas pulled the rubber band back as far as they could while Snake tried to keep himself in shape. Piranha initially worried that the rubber band might accidentally strangle Snake, but the reptile didn't complain. He didn't seem to be in pain. He was already grinning widely, resembling the same grin he sported during their 'heist-for-good' at Sunnyside Labs.
Piranha squealed loudly as he fell back and watched the balloon bomb fly towards the house. The impact was much larger than he expected. Combined with the two piranhas' strength and the amount of cheese he put into it, the balloon bomb coated an excellent part of the wall in stinky yellow goo.
"Whoa!" said Snake, impressed. "How much did you put in there, bud?"
Piranha smirked. "As much as I can fit in my mouth! Thankfully, those balloons are made from elastic!"
Fuchsia cooed in wonder. "Well, you found the right balloons to use."
"Give me one high-one, pal!" said Snake, moving his tail close to Piranha.
The little fish gladly took the high one, whooping in excitement. He and Fuchsia used the rest of the balloon bombs to paint the house. And for the next few minutes, shiny new coats of paint, chocolate sauce and white glue painted the red-brick wall. Ironically, it gave the house more life than it used to have. It was abstract, a ridiculous mashup of different shapes and patterns. Vibrant, beautiful.
At one point, Piranha launched a balloon bomb so high that it landed right into its chimney. To their surprise, this was followed by large droplets of vanilla squirting out from it, painting the roof white.
Snake laughed loudly, giving Piranha a fist bump. To see the usually old cranky snake laugh like it was the time of his life meant a lot to Piranha.
The little fish was already laughing in pride and mania. He did it! He managed to cheer Snake up! Something he had never done before! And Snake approved of his idea.
Even Fuchsia was on board with the prank. Any traces of her cynicism or paranoia were gone, replaced by a huge smile. It was nearly the first time Piranha saw her loosening up.
Piranha was so gleeful that he didn't notice him yanking FUCHSIA'S KNIFE out from her jacket and putting it into the slingshot.
It was only when they shot it that they realized he used the wrong ammo.
Snake's smile disappeared.
Before they could spot if it was Fuchsia's knife, it crashed through the window. A loud cacophony erupted, ranging from tables collapsing, vases shattering and what sounded like a cat's meow in response to being flattened. The trio could only stare at the house, flinching at every crashing sound that could be either wood or glass breaking.
The resulting chain of events inside the house led to a grandfather clock tipping over and crashing right into Spalding's office door. The grandfather clock survived, but not the door. It suffered a huge heartache of a hole.
Spalding was startled by the noise, jumping upwards, thinking the clock would crash into his room.
Thelma didn't hear it yet…until she turned around to see the result. She jumped with a bark.
Outside, Snake, Piranha and Fuchsia were in dumbstruck silence. Fuchsia patted her body, desperately trying to feel any shape hidden underneath her jacket. Her pupils shrank.
"Was that my knife, Pepe?" she asked sternly.
Piranha turned to her. Fuchsia didn't look too mad, but her red eyes could shoot a hole in his forehead.
"...no?" squeaked Piranha sheepishly.
That was when the destroyed car decided to have a mind of its own, its alarm going off. There seemed to be shouting from inside the house. Snake snapped the rubber band in half and grabbed the two piranhas together.
"Time to go!" he announced belatedly, slithering away.
Piranha was trying his best not to snicker from Fuchsia glaring literal daggers at him…while taking photos of the heavily coated house with her phone. But the familiar feeling of being on the run flooded over him with taste, thrill and happiness. He looked to the side to see Snake's open smile. The little fish smiled in kind, loving how this was going.
Piranha turned back to the house. Just before he was carried away around the corner, he smirked in hopes of teaching the Dreary dogs a lesson.
Right on time, Thelma and Spalding kicked down the door. As if the mess wasn't terrible enough inside, outside nearly looked worse.
Their front wall was already covered in ugly spots of brown, yellow, pink and white. There was a sweet smell, but the sundae look was going to wear off. It looked like a school painting portrait a kid rushed through and too lazy to ask for an extension. There was no exposure to any of the red bricks Spalding adored. It was a freak.
He and Thelma turned to the destroyed car. Or what was left of it. As if expecting them, it gave way and the bulk of the car collapsed when a tire popped out.
The top then was set on fire, smoking. Don't ask how.
"Remind me again," said Thelma, her grin becoming tight. "Did we…renew our expired car insurance?"
Spalding barely said anything with a shellshock look. His eye twitched horribly.
And…
"OoooooOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
AN: Yes, that scream reference is actually from Adventure Time from one of Lemongrab's demented screams. That's how I imagine Spalding having a freakout.
Boy, this chapter has a lot of intense and emotional moments. From Gumbo nearly getting into conflict with Shark and Webs after an insensitive statement; Thelma and Spalding having trouble comprehending recent events; Snake and Piranha bonding over the revenge prank.
I like to take a moment to explain that this chapter signifies how this version of Milton Gumbo differs from his counterpart: here, the crocodile has a more normal backstory, but his sheltered life and aloofness makes him introverted. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't want friends; he just doesn't know how to make close friendships without ruining them. Due to being more self-conscious, he's kinder than Thelma and welcoming towards Webs and Sharks when they show they are not a threat.
While intelligence and personalities may differ, Gumbo here carries his book counterpart's kind heart and capability to be flexible, even if he has difficulty.
This chapter is going to be really long, so I'll list down the reference inspiration quickly. Shark taking on the look of a geisha took inspiration from Kung Fu Panda 2 and South Park: Stick of Truth, the entire revenge on the Dreary dogs takes inspiration from Bumblebee and Fuchsia's knife accidentally being used on the slingshot is inspired by 'If Water Fights Were Like Video Games' by Shiloh and Bros!
What do you think of this story and the characters' perspectives? And what do you think of today's strengthening bonds? Let me know in your reviews. If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
Until next time, keep on rocking!