With Willie's assistance, Clover eventually found Ted at the bar. He was sitting on the westernmost corner, talking on the club's resident landline telephone – a one-of-a-kind, state-of-the-art design built from scratch by Timo at royal request. Dorothy was with him on the adjacent stool, and she looked... worried. She had one of her hands on her husband's back as a show of support, clearly invested in whichever things he was discussing. Out of fear of what was to come, Willie thought it'd be best if he hid behind Pam and Clover, while they went to meet the couple.

"Uh-huh. Okay, ho – hold on, can you repeat that?" Ted was shouting into the smooth, blackwood-cased handset, covering his other ear to shut out the pervading noise, "Sweet gherkins, it's so loud in here I can barely hear you! ...Uh-huh. Yeah? No way... Are you sure?"

"Ted! Hey, Ted!" Clover shook his shoulder to grab his attention. "Ted, you're gonna have to come with me; it's urgent!"

The golden bamboo lemur glanced back as he lowered the phone, mouthing an inaudible, "What?"

"I really need to talk to ya, mate!"

However, seeing as he was in the middle of another conversation, he just nodded and held up his index finger – this would only take a minute. Then, looking away from her, he covered his ear again.

"Ah, what was that? Yes, I'm still here, doc! ...Well, sure! I mean, if it really is that bad, then what else are you gonna do, right? Better safe than sorry, as they say..." he continued as Clover questioningly raised her eyebrows at his wife.

"It's the hospital," she explained in her always-amiable tone, "Dr. S called in to update us on a contestant who had an accident around here not long ago; Ted's looking into it, seeing what can be done, if anything. It's some haunting stuff – I've heard from this group of fellas who saw her getting wheeled out that she was in pretty rough shape! Bloodied to hell and back, head covered in bandages, barely conscious..." She shook her head gloomily. "Poor creature... From aspiring beauty queen to just another faceless schmuck relegated to an ICU ward... Can you believe it?"

Clover huffed. "Tell me 'bout it; I was there too." Just take a look at my hands! she wanted to scream as well, but didn't so as to not scare Dorothy. She kept them down and out of sight as best she could, waiting impatiently for Ted to finish. However, despite her efforts, she was unable to wipe the incensed grimace from her face, yet Dorothy smiled kindly all the same – if she had noticed something was off between Clover and the stranger she was so adamantly clinging to, she, at least, pretended not to.

"...So, who's your friend?" She asked then to lighten the mood, "I don't think I've ever seen her around town before..." Her eyes widened slightly as she studied Pam from head to toe, obviously star-struck by the loveliness of her fiery pelt. "Wow, you have such pretty fur! I didn't know lemurs could grow coats like that! ...Heh, I'm almost starting to envy you, and you've only been here thirty seconds, ha ha ha!" she remarked.

Pam flashed her an ivory grin. "Why, thanks! The name's Beverly, by the way, but you can call me Bev for short. I guess you could say I'm... kind of an outlier. I'm just here for the pageant you guys are hosting, but I'm new to this place – fortunately, Clover here was nice enough to show me around," she said, looking at the royal protector. "We have quite the history together, don't we, bud?"

"Shut it!" she hissed.

Lapsing out of her smile for a moment, Dorothy glanced at her husband. He was still busy on the phone. "Oh, but where are my manners? I'm Dorothy; pleasure to meet you, Bev!" She shared a brief handshake with Pam, much to Clover's chagrin. "Say, you're here for the contest, huh? That's so cool; that means if you get lucky, you'll be vying with Clover for the trophy and title of Miss Madagascar! Nothing better than a little friendly rivalry to stir things up, right?" She started to laugh cheerfully, and so did Pam – though she couldn't care less what Dorothy was harping on about, she kept a cordial façade to earn her trust.

"Hey, speaking of the pageant – did you gals know I've been appointed Master of Ceremonies?" the mongoose lemur exclaimed, "Ted and I are so excited – oh, you didn't hear this from me, but I swear he came this close to crying like a little boy when they told us the news yesterday!" She broke into impish giggles as she shielded her mouth from him, in case he noticed. "Ah, I'm still having a hard time believing it! Me, at the forefront of the most anticipated event of the season like a bona-fide showbiz kahuna – what a dream come true!"

"I'll bet!"

"Yeah, absolutely – but even so, I'm actually kinda curious what it'd be like to be in your shoes too! It could've been fun to be up on that stage with you and the other girls, bedazzling everyone with our gorgeous looks... buuut, you know the rules: marriage is a huge no-no for that sort of thing!" With eyes shining lovingly, she snuggled closer against Ted's shoulder. "Oh well, at least my big ol' teddy bear will be there to keep me company... won't you, hon?"

At that moment, he turned to stare at her; though he hadn't heard a word his wife had said, just seeing her warmth-filled eyes was enough to bring great joy out of him. Suddenly, he moved the handset down to his chest, and as they leaned in, the young couple shared a quick, yet passionate kiss. However, as soon as their lips drew apart, the three girls saw Ted's tender look fade away. What replaced it did not bode well.

"Uh, excuse me, what'd you say? I didn't quite catch that; I had some... nasty interference! ...Yeah," he answered, putting the device to his ear again, "Yeah, of course we will; everything shall continue as planned. Uh-huh. Okay, thanks a million, doc, you're a life-saver. Bye." And he hung up – then he whistled out to the closest bartender, telling him he was done. Nodding, the worker took the phone, and left to store it away in a cubby underneath the counter.

"Well?" Dorothy asked Ted, who let out a disheartened sigh.

"Nothing good. She's back to full consciousness, but says she has no clue what happened – the last thing she remembers before blacking out is washing her face in the sink to try on some new makeup, when out of nowhere, someone grabbed her from behind and threw her to the floor really, really hard. The catch is, because she had her head down, she never saw who it was; hell, between the water making such a rumpus and all this going on right outside, she didn't even hear them coming!" he explained to his partner.

"So it wasn't an accident, then? Dear gods, that's horrible!" she lamented, "Why would anyone do such a thing?!"

"Beats me." Ted made a pause to take a calming sip from his long-neglected cognac. "On a different note, Dr. S and his merry band of sawbones have been treating her and are saying she'll be fine, but that the wound is a bit more serious than they thought. I don't know; something about brain injuries, skull fractures, mild hemorrhages, and all these other gross sciency terms that are too hard for me to pronounce... Now they wanna keep her there at least till Monday to make sure there are no complications – and that's being generous. In other words... she's out. There's nothing we can do for her; we'll just have to run a new enlisting procedure and hope someone else wants to play substitute. But with so little time left..."

"That won't be necessary," Clover's voice suddenly interrupted them. Miraculously, Pam was still standing after what they'd just heard. "I need to talk to ya, mate, right now!" she exclaimed at Ted, after which she looked at Dorothy. "Mind if I steal your man for a sec?"

The mongoose lemur shook her head. "Not as long as you bring him back in one piece!"

"...That depends."

Before she could ask her what she meant by that, Clover absconded with Ted so they could talk someplace else – somewhere away from Dorothy's nagging intrusions. Willie shyly trailed them as they took refuge beneath one of the largest plants in the whole establishment – a rare, highly-prized tahina palm on an unoccupied corner not too far from the entrance, whose tall bristling fronds provided some shelter for any visitor.

"So, I take it you didn't bring me here to secretly ask me for the next dance, did you?" Ted said, bouncing on his heels to the bombast of a racy trance hit. He was absent-mindedly glancing around, bobbing his head, and sporadically humming along to the auto-tuned lyrics, when he suddenly spotted his fellow judge coming up beside Clover with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. "Oh hey, what's up, Willie? What's with the long face? You look awful!"

The other man said nothing, so Clover answered for him, "You're damn right he does! I assume you and the rest of your colleagues still haven't heard of what he's done, have ya?"

"Um... nope! At least I haven't; I'm not sure about Pancho, but Horst had a one-off gig tonight at another club, and Hector... well, you know him – the only way you'd get that cranky old man to show up to a place like this when he's off-duty is by reeling him in by the teeth, ha ha ha ha! Why, what's wrong?"

The crowned lemur glared at Willie. "C'mon; go on, Casanova! Tell him yourself! Tell him the kinda things you get up to behind closed doors!"

He hesitated. "...I'm sorry, Ted. I effed up big time," he muttered, and revealed to him the folder he'd been carrying.

The lead judge, puzzled, took it from him before opening it. His soft orange eyes narrowed straight away. "Hey, hold on a minute. Is this...?"

"Yep, that's the pageant's contestant list. Look for the name 'Gracie'; see if ya notice anything different!" replied Clover.

"...Beverly?" Ted looked up, visibly confused. "Who in Frank's jarred pickles is that?"

"That'd be me," Pam said, smirking confidently, "As you can see, my friend, everything is legal – all has been done according to your regulations!"

Ted lowered the folder to take a closer glance at the stranger. "Hmmm... yes, it would seem so..." he agreed, looking back at the papers, then up again. "But, uh, could you tell me what is your name already doing in place of Gracie's, lady? And you, Willie – how did you even get this folder? You know the archives are to be kept under lock and key at all times!"

"And I do, but... look, we can discuss that later; right now, you gotta undo my mistake, man!" Willie urged him, "This is all on me; I'm the one who let her sign up 'cause of what happened to Gracie, but now Clover says she's real bad news and that she cannot be allowed to participate in the pageant!"

"Why not?" Ted questioned.

"Dude, just trust Clover on this; she totally knows her stuff! The things she's told me about this chick... they are not to be taken lightly! For starters, her name isn't even Beverly – which she confirmed herself – and worse still, Clover believes she's also responsible for this entire fiasco!"

Ted raised one of his hands to his face. "Wait, wait, wait, wait! You're not implying that she's the one who... hurt Gracie, are you?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we mean!" the king's bodyguard shouted starkly, "This individual is a dangerous, stone-cold criminal; so will you please do your job and get her off that list, so I can do mine?!"

"Uh, sure! I – I will! But, ummm, first... do you have any proof of this?"

"What?!" Dammit, not this again!

"I mean, do you have any evidence you can give me? 'Cause that's a pretty grave accusation you're making there!"

"No, I don't have anything! But it doesn't matter – I know she's dirty! Worm's got the stench of guilt all over her!"

Ted rolled his eyes at her with an air of annoyance. "Oh, come on, Clover, you're the fancy cop here; you're supposed to know how this stuff goes! I'm pretty much powerless unless you give me something to work with – and frankly, you aren't giving me much! There's nothing in the rulebook against pseudonyms, and now that it's come out that Gracie's spot was up for grabs anyway... I don't see much reason to not let, uh, Beverly take it!" He then began to browse through the folder's pages to ascertain this. "Yeah, it's entirely within her right, and all the documentation here is perfectly legit too! I'm sorry, but either you give me some tangible proof that foul play has occurred, or I just can't help you!"

"Wait, so that's it?! You're just gonna let her walk away scot-free?! Are ya shitting me?!" the protector screeched at him, "You just got off the phone with Dr. S! The victim gave him her recount of the events, saying she was attacked – now I bring ya the culprit, and you side with her?! How dare you?!" Prompted by a sudden fit of rage, she took a striding leap towards Ted, who shrank away from her but did not back down.

"Please, Clover, keep your voice down! You're being unreasonable; regardless of what she may have done, you cannot write her off as guilty yet – innocent till proven otherwise and all that, that's how it is!"

"I don't care, I'm ordering you to remove her from that list right this instant!"

Ted, however, stood his ground – he shut the folder, and swiftly hid it under his armpit. "No. I'm afraid I can't. Believe me, I'd do it in a heartbeat if I could... but I can't! Take it up with King Julien, I'm sure he'll be able to solve it."

"I already did, and he couldn't! Why d'you think I'm asking you?!" Clover's desperation at this point had reached its zenith; for the first time, she willingly let Pam go, just so she could ensnare Ted by the shoulders and wail to his face, "Please Ted, I'm begging ya – you're my last chance! You have no idea what you're doing! If ya let her enter that contest, it won't be only me or you who'll be sorry, but all of us; our entire community! Please, don't do this!"

But the judge only removed her hands from his self as a final rejection. Right now, he seemed more interested in getting back to his wife than putting up with the bodyguard's moaning. "...Look," he told her as politely, yet firmly as he could, "I'm not saying I don't believe you; of course I do! If that girl really is as crooked as you say... then that's a mistake we'll have to live with when the time comes. But as things stand now, there's nothing we can do; she must be held in the same regard as any other contestant – period! Don't forget that you're one of them too, which means you're under our wing this time, not the other way around! So if I were you, I'd quit interfering, unless you wanna be the one who gets the boot!"

He slung both hands over his mouth immediately after saying that. Nobody who threatened Clover ended well!

For a second there, he wondered if he should start crying for forgiveness, or just run away and pray to the entire African pantheon that she wouldn't catch him. However, she didn't snap out at him like he dreaded her to. There were no hoarse screams of rage coming his way; no objects being thrown overhead or smashed on the walls as she condemned everyone and everything around her, like she sometimes did when she lost her temper...

Amazingly, there was only one look: acceptance. Bitter, frustrated... though compliant nonetheless.

"It's okay, I understand," she muttered coolly, "Thanks for your time."

And then, she turned around, slowly walking away from the two gobsmacked men. When she was about to pass by Pam, she stopped and looked back at them. "If Willie has to be punished, do take it easy on him, okay? Fella didn't know any better. None of this is his fault."

How could she stay mad at them? Ted was just an honest man doing his honest job – and really, had this debacle been about anyone other than Pam, there was no guarantee that she wouldn't have done the same. Now she didn't even know what she'd been expecting to come out of this at all; of course nobody was going to do what she asked based on her word alone! It would've been so simple to realize that beforehand, but it was like her brain wasn't working as it should anymore; like there were so many thoughts and unchecked feelings all bumping and splashing and colliding into one another inside her, and they were all driving her insane...

And yet, the person to blame for the majority of it couldn't be happier about this outcome. Right there she was, resting on the rim of the palm's massive, hand-crafted clay pot, watching the scene unfold with a triumphant smirk.

"Well, toots, I will give you props for trying, but it seems you're stuck with me! Whatever will you do now?" Pam jeered at her, laughing openly. "Awww, don't give me that face; I warned you this was going to happen! Maybe you should've listened to me instead of wasting everyone's time and making yourself look like a total dumbass!"

Clover said nothing. Her expression exhibited indescribable anger, and she'd begun to shake so aggressively that the judges thought she was going to launch herself at Pam, and ram her fist through her head at a moment's notice. They certainly believed her capable of it, even with a packed house – many a time they had seen her wipe the floor with obstinate troublemakers whenever Butterfish needed the extra manpower, yet this was nothing like any of those. This was no small-time thug looking to pick fights; no gang of addled drunks harassing and making inappropriate comments to female patrons... It was much bigger than any of them would ever know, and a whole lot more personal.

"Out of the way, out of the way!" someone yelled all of a sudden. It was Dorothy, bursting in through the crowd. She must've been following them. When she spotted her husband some feet ahead, she ran to him, then threw her arms around him and wouldn't let go. "Goodness, Ted, where have you been?! I was so worried about you! What's going on; why does Clover look so... furious with that woman?"

Ted smiled reassuringly at her. They needed to get out of here before things got ugly. "It's okay, hun; it's just a little argument between friends. Why don't you come downstairs with me and Willie? We need to talk about something," he said. She nodded; then he looked at the other judge, hand open. "Which reminds me – quick, give me your keys; I'm taking them away till further notice! Gotta follow protocol!"

However, the lime-eyed lemur appeared to have trouble recollecting what he had done with them. "Ummm, about that... I... I think I might've left them back at the green room..." he mumbled.

"Might have? Oh golly..." Ted face-palmed. "Well, that better be right, mister, or you're gonna be in a mountain of trouble higher than Kilimanjaro itself!"

"Don't worry, they'll be there! Right there on the sofa, I'm sure of it!"

The rest of their conversation drifted from earshot as they hurried off to safety. Had they dallied for just a few more seconds, they would've caught the moment Clover leaned in to whisper something into Pam's ear.

"You, me, outside. Now."

Something had broken inside Clover. This was just too much to handle: the mounting pressure from the pageant, her fractured relationship with Crimson and the heartache this was causing her, and now this on top of it all. She couldn't stand it anymore – something had to be done to release all these terrible feelings!

She'd been holding back for far too long. The floodgates which she'd worked so hard to keep closed were wide open, and now, the ensuing torrent had arrived.

If nobody was going to punish those responsible for their crimes, she would have to do it herself...

...And this time, Maurice wasn't here to stop her.

Blinded by smoldering rage, Clover was forcibly dragging Pam behind her, pushing and bulldozing her destructive way up the entrance tunnel, completely uncaring whether what she was about to do was wrong. She didn't even bother to warn anyone unlucky enough to be in her way to move aside; the killing glower on her face did it all by itself.

"You think you're so bloody smart, don't ya?! You think you've got it all figured out – that you're untouchable, huh?! That I'm just gonna sit still and let ya have your way with us?! Is that what you think?!" she screamed at Pam, who was trying her darndest to break free, "Oh, you've no idea how wrong you are! NO IDEA!"

As soon as they'd resurfaced into the neon-lit jungle outside, she hurtled Pam ahead onto the middle of the red carpet, much to the shock of the queued-up crowd of patrons around it. Pam groped at the closest thing at hand – a stanchion – for balance, knocking it down with a strident clang, then immediately began searching for an opening through which she could slip. Yet it was obvious that even if she did find one, Clover wasn't going to give it up without a fight.

"C'mon, wannabe queen, here I am – all yours!" the bodyguard sneered as she cracked her knuckles, "Let's see if you've got the bollocks to mess with someone who can actually fight back, shall we?!"

"Clover, stop this! Are you out of your damn mind?!" Pam yelled back at her.

"Am I?! Oh, not at all; I'm perfectly sound! You, on the other hand, are gonna be scraping your teeth from the dirt after I've knocked 'em all off your mouth!"

Without warning, Pam felt the breath being wrung out of her lungs as Clover viciously shoved her backwards. She plunged to the carpet like a brick – the lemurs she landed next to, though wanting to help her up, didn't, should Clover turn on them next.

"I guess you're just too screwed in the head to get it, aren't you?!" she kept screaming out for all to hear, "A kid is lying on a hospital bed because of you! You could've killed her! And all for what – a bloody piece of gold-painted tin?!" Pam was now scrambling on her elbows and feet to flee from her, but the warrior straddled her, pinning her to the ground – before enclosing the mongoose's neck in her fingers. Pam found herself struggling and gasping for breath, yet there was no escaping the bodyguard's blood-rage. "...Well, that's too bad, 'cause by Frank you won't be there to get your filthy hands on it!"

Clover could no longer see straight; everything had disappeared into the unforgiving dark, except the writhing body underneath hers. A middling grin had slowly spread across her lips – seeing that red-faced vermin suffer was, in a way... cathartic. Wickedly intoxicating, like raw liquor... She wasn't even squeezing that hard, yet Pam still pretended to choke almost as though she were dying (no doubt a ruse to instigate pity on the assembled onlookers), as she called out for help. But once again, none dared.

"A'ight, ya two, that's enough!" a heavy voice suddenly drawled out behind both women. With all the chatter in the air and the pulsating underground beats, neither heard it or its owner charging in towards them. It was then that Clover felt two blond, burly arms coiling themselves around her waist, which promptly lifted her off her enemy, separating them from each other.

"What the-?! Let go of me!"

"Nuh-uh, not till you've left that lady alone! No unjustified violence allowed on club premises!" the voice shouted sternly.

Clover glared back at the man who was clamping her body tight against his chest, eyes gleaming with hair-raising intensity. "Stay outta this, Butterfish, this is none of your business!"

"'Course it is, as long as it's anywhere near my workplace! I dunno what's gotten into ya this time, but ya better chill out, yo! Just take a deep breath an' count to ten, nice an' easy!"

"No, dammit, put me down!"

She soon realized what Butterfish was attempting to do: he wasn't only restraining her, he was quickly shuffling away from the club site to cast her out into the bordering treeline – giving Pam an ideal chance to escape! When she looked over again, an inarticulate shriek clawed itself from her throat. There was Pam, back on her feet, waving Clover goodbye while she retreated into the masses to camouflage herself amidst them, disappearing from view.

That was the last straw.

Even if Clover was lighter and, overall, much smaller than Butterfish, he was simply no match for her in terms of pure combat skill; all her squirming, flailing and kicking, fueled by the unstable cocktail of adrenaline and pent-up fury currently streaming through her veins, made it so that he had extreme difficulty reining her in. Somehow, she managed to get her feet to hit the ground, and before he even realized what was happening, the world around him went black.

"Agh! The hell is this, yo?! I can't see!"

Clover had whipped her nimble tail over his face like a blindfold. He lifted his left arm to pry it off – a critical moment of weakness that she used to brute-force the right one apart, finally freeing herself. Yelping in surprise as his vision returned, Butterfish then tried to grab her again, but she dodged him effortlessly. Then he tried it yet again, only this time, his heart nearly stopped when Clover actually jumped forth and blocked both of his fists mid-swing with her bare hands, locking him to the spot. He could feel his toes slowly recede into the soil, and his strength grow weaker and weaker as he stared into those inflexible emerald orbs; he was at her mercy, though she had no intention of hurting him, since they were friends after all.

"Stay... out... of this!" she snarled up at him.

And then, in one single spinning motion, she flung him off. The staggered bouncer slid harmlessly several feet across the grass and tumbled to his knees, yet by the time he recovered, she was already gone as well. He wiped his sweat-drenched forehead as he called after her; he wanted to chase her down and break up the fight, lest any of the patrons get caught in the crossfire, but he understood it was beyond hopeless (not to mention dangerous) to try to take on Clover by himself when she was like this. Telling the crowds to disperse in orderly fashion, he bolted inside the grand nightclub.

"Will you please relax, man?"

"No, Your Majesty, I won't! Ahhh, where the hell is she? She should've returned by now!"

Maurice shook his head with worry as he restlessly paced back and forth before the others. They were at the bar, having just asked the barmen if they had seen Clover; unfortunately, though, they hadn't had much to say beyond briefly seeing her over by a corner before she left with Ted. Now, not only were both nowhere to be found, but there was no sign of Pam, Willie or Dorothy either! He had a really bad feeling about this...

He had hoped that maybe, if they just waited here, Clover would come back, but so far, there hadn't been so much as a peep. It was like the earth had swallowed the five of them whole.

"At least one of us should've gone with her!" he kept admonishing himself, "She's way too high-strung to think rationally – what if things didn't work out with Ted? I don't even wanna know what she'd do..."

"Look, Mo-Mo, I don't know," Julien said. He had some concerns about his bodyguard's whereabouts, too, but not as many as Maurice. He'd even gotten himself another margarita to pass the time. "Everything's gonna be just fine; she won't do anything to Ted!"

The aye-aye stopped in front of him. "I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about her! I mean, did you guys see what she almost did to Pam back there? We very well could've had another hospital patient on our hands if I hadn't intervened!"

Mort, who was sitting cross-legged on one of the stools, shrugged nonchalantly. "Perhaps you shouldn't have, Maurice; now, thanks to you, that chick's gonna bring us nothing but biiig trouble!"

"Well, sue me if you want! I couldn't just stand by and watch her get beaten up!"

"I could have..."

"Ah, now you're just exaggerating, bro," the king stated, "I'm sure Clover's talking it out with Ted as we speak! Maybe she already did and is escorting Pam out of the kingdom like I told her to, or even better – throwing that salacious, crown-stealing come-hither where she belongs: in a dark, moldy jail cell, far away from us normal people! That'd serve her right!"

As he laid down his drink, Xixi perched herself on the seat next to Mort's. "What I don't get," she added, "is why Clover was being so hateful towards her! Like, I get that she's had a real crappy day and that her rage issues aren't exactly making things any better, but holy smokes, one would think that Pam chick personally murdered her parents or something!"

"Not her parents. Only her ego..." Mort mumbled casually – instantly thereafter, he covered his mouth, as he realized his slip-up.

Ooops.

Xixi, being the ever-curious bird, cocked her head at him. "What was that?"

"Huh, what? I didn't say anything!"

"Yes, you did! Come on, dude, spit it out!" She prodded his small shoulder with her wing. "You know you can trust me; I won't tell anyone!"

"Mort, don't you dare! We'd agreed to keep that a secret!" Julien reminded him, while Maurice rapidly shook his head at him with a demanding glare, ordering him to cease talking now.

"Hey, the cat's out of the bag now, so we might as well tell her! Besides, she won't shut up till we do!" the mouse lemur counter-argued, then looked at Xixi again. "Okay, so, uhhh... Remember that one time way back when, when you and the rest of the village went away on this holiday cruise across the ocean for like a week, and the three of us – plus Clover – couldn't go 'cause King Julien was awful sick, so we had to stay with him?" he asked her, to which she nodded rather unenthusiastically.

"Psch, hard to forget! I'll never stop saying I would've rather stayed home too; what started out as a party for the history books ended up being an absolute dumpster fire! ...We did found an anti-demonic cult and almost sacrificed Willie to a bunch of sharks, though, which was fun... Man, were those teeth something else!" She chuckled, her beak suddenly splitting into a roguish smirk.

"Yeah, well, that happened to be the first time we met Pam," Mort continued, "Long story short, everything devolved into an even worse disaster than your cruise, so Clover took it upon herself to get rid of her, you know, like she always does and stuff! Then, days later, right before you came back, she did it – but not without some, er... battle scars." Now there was a slight sorrowful look in his big brown eyes. "Do you also remember the arm sling she had to wear for months and the cane she had to use just to walk for about as long?"

The toucan shot him a suspicious glare. "...Uh-huh. Yeah, she said she'd messed up her arm and leg during a fossa attack, if I'm not mistaken. One of those things knocked her off some big tree, or cliff or something, yes?"

The three lemurs shared a glum look. Julien bit his lip.

"Ummm, actually... that was a lie. A big, fat one," he admitted. "Pam did it."

Xixi's beak went agape – never in a thousand years would she have expected that answer. "No way! That doofus who looks like she hasn't broken a nail in her life beat Clover mano a mano?! You're kidding me!"

"I wish we were," reiterated Maurice, "In her own words, that one moment was by far the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to her! And not only that; what Pam did put the rest of us in peril too, since, remember, Clover was in no condition to fight all our other threats off with two limbs down! Hell, I don't think I'll ever forget the day the fossa did attack for real and I nearly got half my keister chomped off! Thank Frank her knife-throwing game was still decent..." There he felt a cold shiver rack his frame. "Anyway, we, uh, we would've told the public, but she didn't want anyone to know that somebody had thrashed her that badly, so... we kept it between ourselves."

Julien gave out a low sigh. "Yeah, and it's not like it was a fair fight either! Pam couldn't throw a punch to save her hide, but she was just so damn fast! I'd never seen anything like it! Seriously, Xixi, seeing her do that to someone you care tons about... was simply... one of the worst things you can imagine! There, dumped on the sand like a heap of garbage that had washed ashore, with her arm all bent out of shape and this huge, purple bruise blotting her knee..." Xixi had fallen silent as a grave as the lemurs narrated the gruesome tale; for once, it seemed she had nothing funny to say. "We literally had to carry her all the way to the hospital 'cause she was too weak to stand – gods, too weak to cry in agony! And while she was getting her bones glued back together, what was our dear friend Pam doing? Sitting on my throne, with my crown! That's the kind of person we're dealing with here!"

Then, frowning with newfound ire, he wrested his coconut from the counter, lime droplets sloshing out from the roughness of his movements. "Argh, it makes me so mad just thinking about it! Why didn't we ever give Pam a life sentence when we had the chance, Mo-Mo? What she did to Clo-Clo alone should've warranted a bajillion – no, ten bajillions!"

Yet when Maurice was about to answer him, another, much larger lemur muscled in: Butterfish.

"Yo, KJ, we've gotta problem! It's Clover; she's completely lost it! I – I dunno what to do; I tried stoppin' her, but she won't listen! Ya gotta help me out 'ere, dawg, or that hot new chick with the sunglasses ain't gonna survive the night!"

The startled foursome all perked their heads up at him, mouths slowly hanging open.

Oh no.