Author's Note: Just one little note. The end of this latest three-chapter mystery will include a backstory for Ed Nygma that was mostly inspired by his past in the comics and partially suggested by a guest reviewer called Bill cipher.

That's about it. Enjoy the chapters. Any and all comments are welcome.

And now… Fillmore

Today's episode: Nappers Never Sleep

Act 1: To Save a Life Virtual

"Okay. I put a lot of thought into this." O'Farrell said as he paced around his desk at the Safety Patrol office. "And I believe the answer is… Gold!"

Ed stared at O'Farrell with the most confounded reaction ever. "Seriously, O'Farrell? You called me up to Safety Patrol headquarters to guess the answer to today's riddle, and your answer is 'gold'?"

"I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it?" O'Farrell said. He pulled out the newspaper and read the wordgame from the riddle column. "'The less you have, the more one is worth?' The answer's gotta be gold."

Anza, who couldn't help but overhear, so he turned his head to interject himself. "And why exactly would the answer be gold?"

"Well, gold loses value if there's more of it, right?" O'Farrell asked.

Ed sighed. "It amazes me that you're smart enough to figure that out. But no, the answer is NOT gold."

"Oh. Then… is it silver?" O'Farrell asked.

"It's not a metal!" Ed groaned. "I swear, nothing can be more ridiculous than this."

As if on cue, Fillmore and Ingrid walked into the station with another kid between them that they were holding. Fillmore was carrying a red wagon filled with different cardboard boxes. But what caught Ed's attention was the fact that Fillmore, Ingrid, and the third kid were all dressed as clowns. They had colorful clothes and clown makeup all over their faces.

"I stand corrected." Ed said trying to hold back his laughter.

"Listen, maybe we can make a deal!" the third clown kid pleaded shifting his fact to Fillmore and Third.

"We're Safety Patrollers, man." Fillmore reminded. "We went undercover to stop you from wrecking the annual yogurt sale for the Future Rodeo Clowns of America. Now, why would we want to make a deal?"

"Your parents will be here soon." Ingrid said as she opened the door to the holding room.

"They wouldn't let me in." the clown boy said. "My father was a rodeo clown. And my father's father. You don't understand! I couldn't do THIS of rodeo clowning wasn't in my blood!" To demonstrate, he jumped into the air and landed in a barrel, which fell to its side.

"I don't know about 'rodeo', but you're definitely a clown." Ed snarked as he kicked the barrel into the holding room. "Morning, Fillmore, Third. I see you had a very interesting case."

"It wasn't my idea." Ingrid said. "When I signed up for the Safety Patrol, no one said anything about having to dress up like this." She placed her hand on her clown costume.

"Going undercover is part of the gig, Ingrid." Fillmore said. "Besides, you were good at rodeo clownery."

"She was?" Ed asked failing to hold back his laughter. He covered his mouth, but his chortling was still heard much to Ingrid's chagrin. "Please, tell me someone got it on video."

"No, but she did have a good clown name." Fillmore said before turning to Ingrid. "Isn't that right, 'Daffodil'."

This time, Ed's hand couldn't stop him. He let out a loud burst of laughter and fell on his back holding onto his stomach and clutching onto his sides.

"You two are the worst." Ingrid said with a glare.

Once Ed stopped laughing, he stood back up and took his breath. "All right. I've had my fun."

"How nice." Ingrid said dryly before heading to her computer. "I'll file the report, Fillmore. You can head home. TGI Wednesday."

"Generous." Fillmore thanked. "Speaking of TGI, big weekend ahead?"

"Saturday morning cartoons, book hunting in the city with my sister and dad… Oh, and getting my Robo-Gladiator ready for the competition next month. You?"

"Fishing with the guys, Football Sunday with Ma and Pa Fillmore, then help with Sunday dinner at Grandma's house. She's teaching me how to make mustard grains this week." Fillmore turned his attention to Ed. "What about you, Ed? You got any special plans this weekend?"

Ed shrugged. "Not really. Mainly just playing in my crossword books, assembling my puzzle toys, and coming up with new riddles for the X Middle School paper."

"What? Nothing with your fam?" Fillmore asked.

Ingrid then noticed the look of dismay on Ed's face. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's okay." Ed said insistently. "Just… forget about it. You've all got stuff to do."

"Hold up on the goodbyes there, you three." Vallejo said as he walked out of his office. "First, solid work on getting the yogurt back, people. Second, Folsom wants to see you three. Now." The three shrugged and proceeded to leave the station, but not before Vallejo had one last comment. "Hey, Fillmore, not too much salt in the mustard grains, okay?" He laughed as they left.

"Fillmore, Third, you saved the yogurt sale." Principal Folsom said as the kids arrived in her office. "And Nygma, I'm sure that if you were on the case, it would have been even more efficient. I've got high expectations from you."

"What else is new?" Ed asked rolling his eyes.

"Listen," Folsom said, "There's a lot of love in this room, so I'm going with the momentum. We need your help." She walked up to the window to look outside. "Every school has a point of pride. For Dumont Junior High, they have their electric tomato mascot. For Jacobi Middle School, their freestyle rap team. We have a lot of things to be proud of. One of them is Duappy."

"Duappy?" Fillmore asked.

"I read about it in the Examiner." Ingrid said. "Duappy is the oldest virtual pet in the country."

"Right, it's one of those… um… wamahuzuguchi things." Folsom said returning to her desk.

"One of our students managed to keep his alive for four years." Vice Principal Raycliff informed.

"Four years, huh?" Ed asked. "How long to those things usually last?"

"A couple of weeks, tops." Ingrid said.

"That TV show, More, is planning on doing a segment about it this Friday, but we have a problem." Folsom said. "It's missing."

"Missing?" Ingrid asked.

"Stolen, I'm guessing." Ed said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have had to ask for help from your top two officers and a consultant."

"That's right." Folsom said. "And if this thing isn't virtually fed or electronically cleaned up after… Listen, if you don't find Duappy in 24 hours, he's going to wamahuzuguchi heaven. We can't let that happen."

"We won't." Fillmore promised.

"Good." Folsom said. "This is a national TV show we're talking here."

"And the life of a kid's beloved virtual friend." Ingrid added like it should have been said first.

"Mm-hmm, that too." Folsom said. "So whatever you need…"

"How about a name?" Fillmore asked.

"Raycliff, the kid's name." Folsom demanded.

"The student's name: Winslow Schott Jr." Raycliff informed.

Fillmore, Ingrid, and Ed headed straight to Winslow Schott's home address and knocked on his door. Almost immediately, a woman opened the door and answered.

"Why hello. Can I help you?"

"Mrs. Schott, we're Safety Patrol officers Fillmore and Third from X Middle School. And this is our companion, Ed." Fillmore introduced. "We're investigating the disappearance of Duappy."

Mrs. Schott rolled her eyes and allowed them to follow her inside. "I don't see why you officers should trouble yourselves about Duappy."

"Not a fan of his, I take it?" Ed asked.

"To be frank, I think he's better off without it." Mrs. Schott said. "After his dad left four years ago, I gave my son Duappy to keep him happy. But because of that, he's substituted real human interaction with a plastic toy."

"You sure that's the toy's fault?" Ed asked. "I mean, I've heard he's quite an expert in toys. Even heard he wishes to be a toymaker when he grows up."

"I don't mind his hobby of toy-making," Mrs. Schott said, "But for the past four years, he'd rather hang out with his virtual friend than be with real kids his age. And now, for the first time in his life, he has a friend."

The kids followed Mrs. Schott to the living room where two kids were playing a board game. One was a blonde boy who looked depressed, and the other was a red-headed girl.

"Lorraine and her family have lived next door to us for years." Mrs. Schott informed. "When she heard what happened last night, she brought over a pecan log for my boy. She hasn't left his side since, except for sleep and…" She then whispered. "Bathroom breaks."

"Thanks, Mrs. Schott. We'll take it from here." Fillmore said. He walked up to the other two kids interrupting their game. "Hey. Winslow Schott Jr., I'm Officer Fillmore from the X Middle School Safety Patrol. We're here to help you with your Duappy situation."

"Thank you." the blonde boy said shaking his hand. "And please, call me Winn."

"Tell us what happened." Ingrid said.

Winn lead the three up to his room where he showed them a picture of him on the beach with his yellow virtual pet console in his hand.

"And so, when I got out of my pre-dinner shower," Winn narrated sadly, "I saw that the window was open and Duappy was… gone."

"Do you have any enemies?" Fillmore asked.

"No. I don't even have any other friends." Winn answered.

"Is that so?" Ed asked turning his eyes to Lorraine.

"What are you thinking, Ed?" Ingrid asked.

"Just a hunch," Ed answered, "But nothing concrete just yet."

"Please, time is running out." Winn said worryingly. "If he hasn't been fed or cleaned up after, he's gonna…" He broke down into tears. "I'm sorry. It's just, Duappy's my best friend in the world. He kept me happy after my dad left."

"Father issues, huh?" Ed asked. "I can relate."

"Oh, man!" Winn panicked. "I just remembered. Duappy doesn't have his pajamas. I made them from a handkerchief."

"It's okay, Winn. They're gonna find him" Lorraine comforted before turning to the officers. "Can we talk more in a little bit? I think Winn needs a minute. How about some hot chocolate?"

"Okay." Winn said sadly as Lorraine guided him out of his room.

"All right. Tell me what you got." Fillmore said to his friends.

"The perp was prepped." Ingrid informed. "They knew when Winn was going into the shower, and they knew where Duappy was. They jimmied the window open and were in and out in 10, 15 seconds tops."

"Right between Winn's rinse and repeat." Fillmore said.

"That suggests that the perp not only knew what they were after, but they were also familiar with the layout of the room." Ed said. "Whoever this was at least knew Winn."

"By the way, the place is clean." Ingrid said. "No prints. No leave-behinds."

"Well, just because there's no clue in here, it doesn't mean there's no clue outside." Ed said. "Maybe the thief dropped something in the yard."

"Then we'll check the perimeter." Fillmore said.

Later that evening, the kids returned to the Schott house and began rummaging through the backyard bushes.

"Ow!" Ingrid exclaimed as a thorn pricked her thumb.

"You okay?" Fillmore asked.

"Yeah. Thorn bushes after dark, lots of fun." Ingrid answered sarcastically.

"Hey, don't be the sarcastic one in this trio. That's my schtick." Ed chuckled before noticing something in the bushes. "Hold the phone." He reached in and pulled out a long, thin object. "Riddle me this, what do you call a tavern of birds?"

"A… crowbar?" Fillmore guessed.

"You guessed it." Ed said. He showed off a pink crowbar with a cartoonish, pink cat head on the handle. "Though, the cat part was a bit of a surprise."

"Looks like a novelty item." Ingrid said. "Let's check to see if things like these can be sold at the mall."

The following day, the kids headed to the mall and found a store with a mascot that looked exactly like the cat head they found on the crowbar. They entered and spoke with the store manager before showing him the crowbar.

"Oh, yes, sure." the manager said. "This is the Happy Cathead crowbar in this year's Pink Joyful Smily Heaven motif. Big seller. Quality crow."

"You turned a crowbar into a kid's toy?" Ed asked.

"Well, they're not that dangerous." the manager informed. "These things are made of a special material that softens upon human skin."

"So it's harmless to people, but can still jimmy a window open." Ingrid realized.

"Do you have some sort of record of who purchased one of these in the past six months?" Fillmore asked the manager.

"Aw, heck, no sir. We move about five cases a week. It's paid mostly in Happy Cathead kitty bank change. Sorry about that."

"Dawg." Fillmore exclaimed taking the crowbar back.

"Is there anything special about the crowbar?" Ed asked. "Like some kind of special feature or something?"

The manager thought for a moment before he remembered. "Oh, boy. I almost forgot. Not only is it a sturdy crowbar, but it comes with a flexy address book."

"So there's an address book in the crowbar, huh?" Ed asked. He popped open the cat head on the crowbar, and a small, paper booklet popped out. "Jackpot."

"I'm impressed, Ed." Fillmore said as he left the store with the others. "How did you know there'd be a special feature in the crowbar?"

"I doubt any toy company would pass this up as a little plaything if all it could be is a common crowbar." Ed said. "Now, all we gotta do is check out the first page in this book, which is where owners usually write their own addresses. And whosever address it belongs to, that's where we'll find Duappy."

"Nice." Ingrid complimented just before hearing a rumbling sound getting louder at a quick pace. "Do you hear that?"

The three turned their heads and put on surprised reactions when they saw a bunch of big rubber balls bouncing their way. Some of them were as big as their own bodies, and they were all bouncing toward them like a stampede.

They tried to run, but found themselves unable to. The balls quickly fell over their bodies, and they were nearly squished. At that moment, Ed felt something. He noticed a hand reach out and swipe the Happy Cathead crowbar from his grip. The toy disappeared in the barrage of balls long before they stopped bouncing.