25. Croak and Punishment

Chapter 25: Croak and Punishment

It started like any other day, me relaxing with a cup of tea, watching the sun rise and just enjoying the quiet before Hop Pop inevitably ruins it with some chore or other. I need that quiet if I'm going to face the day ahead of me, especially since HP's been mentioning how dirty Bessie's stable has been getting lately.

Of course, around here, it's only a matter of time before a quiet moment gets interrupted. In this case, it was Sprig hopping up all excited about finding a Blue Moon shell. Which, I will admit, is really pretty. Sprig's saving it for Ivy's birthday (awwwww!). I suggested he put it away someplace safe, be he insists it's going to be safe just sitting out in the open. And, I mean, good for him for being optimistic, but reality just doesn't work that way. Like back in second grade, I had this seriously fetch pencil case, and one day, I left it on the desk at lunchtime, and when I came back, it was gone. I had half a dozen good pencils in there. And a Rainbow Star marker that had four different colors. They don't even make those anymore. I just know it was Kacey Dorwood who stole it, but I could never prove it. To this day, every time she looks at me I can see that smug expression on her face. The one that just shouts "Oh yeah? Watcha gonna do about it?"

…but enough dwelling on the past. Sprig thinks it'll be safe, and he's been here a lot longer than me, so who am I to say he's wrong?

We spent the rest of the morning mucking out Bessie's stable, and by the time that unpleasant business was over, all thoughts of pretty much anything else were gone.

And so was the Blue Moon shell.

Heroically, I resisted the urge to gloat… well, okay, I gloated a teeny bit, but stopped when I saw how distressed Sprig was. He didn't need my told-you-sos, he needed my help. And more importantly, this was a chance to do something I've always wanted to do; live out my dream of being on one of those bllions of cop shows… Law & Punishment, Cold Investigations, APB, you know the ones. Sprig seemed to have no idea what I was talking about (which is weird, because I'm pretty sure Wartwood has cops; in fect, I'm pretty sure we've both been arrested by those cops), but he seemed to get the idea after I showed him a few choice clips.

This is gonna be fun! In fact… I think this calls for a change in the narrative style…

9 AM: My partner and I were working the day watch out of the Wartwood precinct, when the call came in. Grand theft shell. Investigation of the scene of crime found nothing, except a small piece of wax yarn. The kind they sell at the Grub n' Go, the local convenience mart. Well, this was about to prove very Inconvenient for a certain shell thief. We had a lead, and it was time to follow it.

This city is a cesspool of the dregs of valley society. A cesspool of crime and corruption and mud. Lots and lots of mud. Actually, it's mostly mud. It's our job to clean it all up. Well, not the mud, because that's impossible. But not as impossible as cleaning up crime. Until we make it possible. It's a thankless, glamourless job that's just got to be done. Also, we don't get paid because this is all just make-believe. My partner's Sprig Plantar. My name is Boonchuy.

DUN DUH-DUN DUN

9:30: AM. We made our way to the Grub n' Go, where the only thing lower than the prices was the depths criminal scum will sink to to hide their tracks. We approached the clerk on duty, a kid with a voice so squeaky I was tempted to oil it. I decided we'd give it a little of the old good cop/bad cop, see if we couldn't get some information out of him. Sprig didn't quite get it at first – kid's a rookie after all, fresh out of the academy – but once I reminded him what was at stake, he turned out to be a natural at sweating out perps.

We didn't get much more than a name: Wheatberry Flour, local baked goods pusher. But it was something to go on.

10 AM: Flour claimed he knew nothing about the shell, but evidence put him at the scene. Was his alibi as stale as his sourdough? Possibly not; he uses the wax yarn to wrap his baguettes, so our list of suspects just expanded to everyone who purchased one recently. When we asked for a list, he claimed baker-customer confidentiality, but the law doesn't take no for an answer. It was time to lean in, and my partner has a way of leaning.

Maybe a little too much, actually

We finally got a list of customers, but I think I'm going to have to talk to Plantar about procedure. Make-believe cops need to follow make-believe rules, or else we're no different from the make-believe criminals.

10:25 AM: First on our list was Stumpy Stumpson, proprietor of the local slophouse. A rough customer from all appearances. I knew for a fact that he wasn't the sticky-fingered type; for one thing, he didn't have any fingers. But my partner wasn't taking no for an answer. I'm beginning to wonder if I made a mistake taking him along. He's too close to the case.

10:40 AM: Paid a call on one Sadie Croaker, by all accounts a sweet old lady, but perhaps this sweet old lady was hiding a sour side, sourer than the fossilized candy in her dish. Her alibi checked out, but my partner wasn't entirely convinced. I'm getting really concerned he could go rogue.

11:00 AM: Mayor Toadstool. He's dirty, and everyone knows it. Dirtier than One-Eyed Wally after a night in the grubhog sty. But petty theft didn't seem to be his style. He was more the white-collar crime type. Still, he was on our list of suspects, so we had to pay him a visit. But even pressure on his frog Friday Toadie wasn't making him-

Y'know what, forget the cool hard-boiled narration. This was getting way out of hand. I'm seriously regretting introducing Sprig to cop shows, because he's taken all the wrong lessons to heart. What happened to the sweet, optimistic Sprig of the past? Like, this morning? Now he's all cold and grizzled, like a… grizzly… dang it, I'm all out of cop metaphors!

Anyway, there was one guy left on our list. He was a newcomer to town, some guy named Gunther who lived on the very outskirts of Wartwood. He seemed like a pleasant enough guy, but we had run out of suspects, and Sprig didn't even bother to let me try to gain his confidence first; no, he went right in on him with both barrels, even though he seemed to have absolutely no idea what we were talking about.

And it turned out Sprig had finally pushed too hard, because he made the guy angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry. Seriously, the guy gets all humongous and grows tusks and just plain goes berserk. He chased us all across town, and – shocker! – no one would help us because we ticked off everyone in town with our whole cop routine. My fault for making Sprig cast aside his humanity. Frogity. Whatever.

Luckily Sprig had finally come to his senses by the time he caught up to us and was finally able to talk him down with a sincere apology. Turns out the poor guy had to leave his old town because of the whole "turn into the Incredible Frulk when I get angry" thing. Imagine… everyone in town thinking you're a monster. Yeah… I can relate, buddy.

We let him have the rest of our doughnuts (of course there were doughnuts! We're cops!) only to set him off again because the only ones left were licorice-flavored. Really, who makes licorice doughnuts? Who makes licorice anything? Who hates the world that much?

Well, we finally managed to ditch Gunther, having pretty much given up any hope of ever finding the thief, only to run right into her!

Yes, the "thief" was none other than Ivy herself, the person the shell was meant for in the first place, and she had only "stolen" it to polish it up for Sprig.

So, yeah, the whole thing? It was all for nothing.

At least I got to witness a an adorable moment between them, but… really, it's just been a long day.

One thig I know: We're never doing this again. Power clearly corrupts, and imaginary power corrupts imaginarily.

A.N.: Not one of my favorites; the "character gets wrong and starts randomly accusing everyone around" trope is stupid and should die. But at least it gave me a chance to play around with the narration a bit.

Jose: Yup

Next: A Trip to the Archive