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Les Pathways, formerly of the First Utica Defence Force (F.U.D.D.) had moved to the sleepy city of Binghamton, NY to investigate possible devilbunny activity. He found it. Aided a young local woman, Gina Palmero, they fight off a group of bunnies stealing the toes of the local citizens. They join the local organization the MDF (Mixed Fudd Division) under the leadership of the mysterious Phong. Renamed Agents Matrix and Agent Stick, they have taken the MDF oath to fight the fluffy terror: To Rend and Defend.
But the local devilbunnies also have visitors who are also interested in the old Parlor City. White Paw and his mentat Aaron have come to to unite the divided warrens and put the forgotten city back on the bunny map.
Stay tuned for Season 2 of Parlor City Stories!
Brought to you by State Fair Spiedie Sauce(tm).
Summer 2000
The State University at Binghamton had entered its summer session and most of the dorms were empty. But even with a reduced student population, no one looked twice at the beer truck as it rolled onto the campus, and pulled into a parking lot.
Perched on a hillside overlooking its athletic fields, one side of the campus faced a busy highway while the other faded into the forested hillside. With trees all about the dorms and classrooms, this part of the campus earned the name 'College In the Woods.' A young woman carrying a teddy bear waved at them and came up to the truck.
"Hi! I'm Ariel!" she said in a bouncy tone of voice. "Welcome to SUNY-B!" As she said spoke two rather ordinary looking buns hopped out of the bushes. "These are my buddies who've come to welcome you!" she giggled.
"Uhm... I'm Sid," the driver said quietly, overcome by her happy smile.
White Paws hopped out of the van and fluffed. "Thank you... Ariel," and followed the two guard buns into the bushes.
Aaron stepped out a moment later. "Sid? You may have a Snapple(tm) break."
"Yes sir," Sid murmured quietly, his eyes filled with Ariel.
Aaron hopped into the underbrush. "Aren't you worried about being seen by the apes?" he asked one the the guards.
"What? Heck no," one replied, "<proudfluff> we rule this campus!"
Inside the warren they were led into an office. Purple shag rugs covered the floor, pop culture posters from three decades decorated the walls and lava lamps; some old and some new, provided illumination. A rather relaxed looking bun sat behind a battered desk. He waved at White Paw and Aaron. "Hi ya. I'm President Mellow Ears. Welcome <fluff> to Southside."
"Good day <gracious poofle> Mr. President," White Paw began. "We have some proposals that would benefit your community and all of bundom."
Mellow Ears nodded, "I've read the communiques." He waved some papers in the air. "Shipments of fresh toes, new bunny movers, upgraded communication equipment, engineers to help build new tunnels, blah blah blah." He tossed them disdainfully on the desk. "I can read between the lines. This is a prelude to military operations <ickpoofle>."
White Paw backed up a little. "Truly, you misunderstand our intentions..."
Mellow Ears leaned back in his chair. "I doubt it. Look, this is an _educational_ facility; our job is to raise the next generation of symps so our world will be fluffy and ky00t. We make fluff, not war. And we've learned a few things from the apes. First come the civilian advisors who have little 'incidents' with the local apes. This brings the attention of the <ickfluff> Fudds. Then come the military advisors to help 'protect' us from the AoF. Soon this place will become lousy with milbuns and Fudds." He gave them a glare. "Do you think that just because we've been on our own for years that we've gotten stupid? I don't want an invasion of milbuns or of Fudds," Mellow Ears said. "As long as they think we're a reg bun or civ bun warren we're off their radar screen. And I'd like to keep it that way."
Aaron spoke up. "Perhaps if you had some guarantees and an agreement that this area would remain free of milbun activity?"
"Perhaps. Let me take it up with the council. Representative Democracy and all that. We'll set up another appointment for later in the week."
As they drove off campus White Paw noticed that Sid looked rather dejected. "Problem, Sid?" White Paw asked.
"Ariel," he sighed. "She turned me down for a date."
"Ah, <understanding poofle> doe troubles. Perhaps she wants to be chased, just enough to get caught. Go pursue her, lad!"
Sid considered as he drove. "Is chasing does... I mean women considered fluffy?"
"Of course," White Paws replied. "Of all things fluffy in this world, does are the finest."
The beer truck rumbled up the steep street that went nearly to the top of the hill. The road ended in at a tree lined lot too steep to build on. The truck pulled over to the side of the road and White Paw and Aaron hopped out. A plain brown rabbit hopped out of the tall grass and waited silently for them to follow.
"You would think with a name like Riverside," White Paws said quietly to Aaron, "that it would be closer to the river."
"Security," Aaron suggested. "Who'd look for a devilbunny warren named Riverside on a hill?"
They followed their silent guide into a plain warren chamber where a young adult doe with pure white fur was waiting for them. "Welcome to Riverside Warren," she said. "I am Lorrie Whitetail and I am blessed with the responsibility of leading this warren. Are you hungry? We have food prepared for your arrival. It's all organically grown <pleasedfluff>."
White Paw saw the tray of tender young carrots and fresh lettuce and smiled. "Why thank you," and he took a nibble. "Quite delicious."
"I must say," Whitetail said after they ate, "that your proposals have distressed members of our community. You know of the disasters that befell us after the Fudds were defeated." She made a motion with her paw. "The Great Flood killed many of our people and collapsed a great section of our tunnels. We were cut off from our devilbunny brethren; many would say we were abandoned. Then <sadfluff> the Great Zorn occurred when the apes' machines pounded the remaining tunnels to build their highway, killing our greatest warriors. We believed that this was a punishment sent by Frith for becoming warlike and ignoring our fluffiness. We had become great warriors but we had lost our ky00t."
"My dear," White Paws replied, "<airypoofle> it is not our war at all, but the Fudds."
"Yet your proposals speak of seeking domination over the apes. It is sheer vanity to believe we that we are worthy enough to be lords of creation." She but her paws together. "We here at this warren have opted out of the war. War is not ky00t. World Domination is not ky00t. We seek to refine our own inner fluff <serenepoofle> and inspire that in our followers."
"You mean your symps?" Aaron asked. "You can't trust humans, they'll betray you sooner or latter."
"Symps is such an ugly word," she replied, "we call them 'our two-legged friends.' Perhaps you've had problems with your 'symps' as you call them. I'm not surprised. You attract them with promises of power, threaten them with your fangs and then wonder why you have to replace them so often. We used to do the same, but now we nurture them. You'd be surprised how much they can grow in their own fluffiness."
"Of course, we will always be the Masters of Ky00t," White Paw said.
"Agreed," Lorrie nodded. "But gentlebuns, we are a simple, peace-loving warren. We do not want to become involved in your plans for violence and control. We urge you to listen to your inner fluff; that happy voice within, and abandon off this path of death and destruction."
"That could be taken as a threat," White Paws said carefully.
"It's not. It's just a warning." <furruffle> "It's been a pleasure talking with you," Lorrie said. "If you or any bun desires a respite from the insanity of war we welcome them. Our humble warren is open to all who seek True Fluffiness."
Back at the truck Aaron let out a snort. "What a mess. One warren run by a 'president' <disgustedfluff> another run by a doe barely old enough be a mother. <sheeshpoofle>!"
"Now Aaron," White Paw tisked, "we've just started and we have another warren to visit. Our work is too important to give up yet. And beside, we'll assert our will here one way or another. <fangygrin> It is their choice which way it will be."
They drove away, unaware that from the trees above them small eyes followed their every movement.
The beer truck pulled in the warehouse and the door closed quickly behind it. Three large men stepped out of the shadows. "You Sid?" one of them asked the driver.
"Ah, yeah." Sid said cautiously.
"You're to come with us," and he opened the truck door. The other two moved in to flank the young man.
"I's got a question for ya," the first man said darkly. "Do you like Snapple(tm)?"
Sid brightened. "Oh yeah! All varieties!"
The man smiled. "Then we'z gonna get along jest fine." They walked away from the truck. "So Sid, what's your feelings about Spam?"
"Can't stand the stuff," Sid whispered.
"Neither do we. Come on, we'll feed ya good."
White Paw and Aaron hopped out the back door of the van and nosed their way behind a row of tires. A small hole led to a well maintained warren tunnel. As they moved, burly bunnies silently joined them from adjacent tunnels and rooms. The two were guided to a well appointed room that held even more toughs and a well groomed buck. "Greetings, <dominatefluff> I'm Don Coniglio. My friends call me Bouncy."
"Greetings sir," White Paw replied. "I hope you've had a moment to review our proposals?"
"Of course, but please," he made a wave with his paw, "have something to eat." At his command, a silver tray was wheeled in with various greens, baby carrots and some type of meat wrapped in bread. "I don't think you've tried our local speciality; marinated toes lightly cooked on skewers. We call them spiedies. Riverside provides them."
"Spiedies?" White Paw sniffed them.
"It's an Old World dish," Bouncy replied. "Please try them."
The two ambassadors nibbled at the wrapped meat. "Very unique," White Paw said diplomatically.
"These are delicious!" Aaron proclaimed.
"We're prepared to ship the special sauce," Bouncy said airily, "I think it will become a big hit and real money maker. But to business. I take it you've talked to the other warrens and they haven't been very... cooperative."
"The others have their reservations," White Paw replied.
"Well, so do I. But nothing that can't be negotiated," he continued brightly. "You understand that I must watch out for my people, so the first thing I need to make clear is that all milbun forces are to be under my control."
"With suitable advisors," White Paw said slowly, "I think we can come to an arrangement on this."
"Good. Second thing. In time you'll want to unite the three warrens. That united warren will be under my control, understand?"
"Perfectly," White Paw said agreeably. "We prefer to keep the locals in control."
"Yes," Bouncy smiled. "Now, about those milbun forces, I want more sergeants, fewer lieutenants," his grin became fangy, "no generals."
Aaron spoke up, "We may not be able to supply the needed milbun forces without higher ranking officers. It may take extra time. But we'll try to expedite your request, knowing you've had Fudd incursions."
Bouncy laughed. "One freak in a trenchcoat does not a Fudd make."
"Let us continue. Some of the equipment you propose lending us is woefully inadequate.."
After several hours the two diplomats were escorted out of the room. Bouncy turned to one of his henchbuns. "How are the tunnels under the computer plant coming?"
"We got the regbuns working on them already, boss. And it won't be long until we're spliced into their internal network."
"Good <gleefulfluff>. We'll get their mainframe ready for them. Then we'll squeeze them a little more."
Meanwhile White Paw and Aaron retired to the beer truck. "Well mentat, what do you think?" White Paw whispered after turning on the radio to cover their conversation.
"You wanted a proper Chief, you've got him. But he's going to try and pull a fast one on us," Aaron replied quietly. "I suggest we give them all the sergeants we can, with a general or two in disguise. It will actually make things easier on us; we let them fight the other warrens then engineer a coup."
"Then all will be well <serenefluff>," White Paw replied. "We'll have the warren and the mainframe safe, sound and in firmly in our paws."
The man across the table glared at Sid. "Ya had enough yet?" he said in a gravelly voice.
"Couldn't eat another bite, Tony" Sid sighed. "Not another noodle, not another meatball."
The other man smiled and the rest of the toughs laughed. "Good. We was wonderin'if you've been eatin' enough. You look kinda skinny to me."
"Well, I'm grateful for the food," and he started to get up, "but I should check to see if White Paw needs me."
"Sitdown kiddo!" he said with gusto, "If the bunnies want us they'll call for us," and he leaned back in his chair. "So, why are you with the bunnies?"
"Huh?" Sid said, surprised. "Well, they're going to make the world a better place. You know, kinder, fluffier and ky00ter."
"A true believer," Tony said with a laugh. "Like Ralphie over there," and he nodded to a rather round and jolly looking tough. "Me and Johnie," he nodded to a tough with gray hair, "are in it for the world domination part. You know, someone's gotta help the bunnies run the place, and we're all expecting a cut of the action when they take control."
"Well yes, I suppose," Sid considered. "White Paw tells me it takes all types. Have you been in with them long?"
"Long? Long?" Ralphie chortled, "We're third generation symps, most of us. Been with them in the good and the bad times."
"Bad times," said Johnie. "Like 1962. The cops raided a big meeting we were having out in Apalachin. The bunnies ran into the woods but the cops got everyone else." He shook his head. "A lot of the bunnies never made it back. Don't know what happened to them."
"Fudds," Tony said as he drank his sweet red wine.
"Nah, the Fudds were gone then," another replied.
"Phong," the first one said.
"Phong? He doesn't exist. He's just a story the bunnies tell their kits when they misbehave. 'Be good or else the Evil Fudd Phong will get you..."
Tired and sated, Sid let men swap stories in what seemed to be an old debate. With drooping eyelids he as about to nod off when he felt a nudge at his arm. It was Ralphie. "Let's get out of here," he said with a sneaky smile. The two slipped out of the room and went down a dark hallway. "You and me," Ralphie said as he waddled along, "we're not like them. We believe in the power of ky00t."
"Yeah," Sid said, still a little sleepy.
"So we get something special," Ralphie said and opened a door at the end of the corridor. The room was cozy looking, with comfy chairs and a deep shag rug. Ralphie ushered him in, closed the door and rapped some kind of signal on the wall. A moment later a part of the wall moved and a long-hair bunny poked her nose out. "Oh, Ralphie," she trilled, "is this our visitor?"
"Miss Alho, I'd like you to meet Sid."
"Hello Sid," she said, "are you ready for an after dinner treat?"
"Oh, I couldn't eat another..." and stopped as he saw several small forms hop into the room. An blissful smile spread across his face. "Awww, kits," he sighed. He fell to his knees and gazed blissfully at the little creatures. "They're... adorable!"
"And so are you Sid!" one said and hopped up to him. "Would you like to cuddle me?"
"Oh, yes, yes..." and he gently picked up the young one and snuggled it. He was happy beyond words, totally enraptured and totally at peace.
He was putty in their paws.
Recreation Park sat several blocks off Main Street and was a quiet place in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. Beside the large shady trees sat tennis courts, and nearby were a ball field and a well maintained carousel. The sun had long gone down and the park slept like most of the city. In the darkness of the oak trees a patch of the summer grass lifted up like a hatch and slender white bunny came out. She dragged out a small container and waited near one the base of one of the oak trees. From the high branches came a quiet scrambling noise and a squirrel carefully made her way down, stopping just short of the ground.
"<Tailflick> Lorrie Whitetail, you come in person," the squirrel whispered. "This is either a great honor or you're in great danger."
"Danger I'm afraid, Tipsy" the bunny replied quietly and hopped closer to the tree. "When your spies told us that the beer truck reached Northside, I feared that the two ambassadors and Donnie Coniglio will quickly plot military operations against us. We're central to this area and control most of the major tunnels that lead across the river to Southside. We are the most logical target."
Tipsy Treetopper shifted a little. "Not maybe <chitter> since they want what's in North's area. <Scratchear> Maybe they'll leave the rest alone?"
"Not likely <sighfluff>. It is the nature of many devilbunnies to desire world domination. They are crazy; how can we take over the world? We'd have as much success as lab mice. But more immediately, Coniglio would remold the warrens back into what they were before. Neither of us wants that."
The squirrel bared its teeth. "If they try to take back their 'slaves' they will meet Death From the Sky (tm)."
"Let's try to avoid that," Lorrie said quietly. "Fighting isn't fluffy."
"Squirrels aren't fluffy <indignanttailflick>."
"But they will come for you and your people," Lorrie replied, "we must unite to prevent Northside from dominating this valley. We must be ready for them. Can we count on your assistance?"
"That will take many, many nuts."
Lorrie looked upset. "Did we not release all our slaves? And aid you in freeing all the squirrels in all the warrens of Parlor City? Did we not aid you when you first started to get organized? Have we not been your friends? After all we've done for you, must you still treat us as clients? Are we not your friends? <stomp>"
"Devilbunny, <flickflick> do you think we have short memories? <flickflick> We still don't trust you. We still need nuts. You give us nuts - then we'll assist you." Tipsy then cleaned her ears. "But you speak true. You have aided us. We won't charge you as much nuts."
"Then peace <ruffle> be with you my friend," Lorrie replied and nosed the container to the base of the tree. "Payment for your last spy mission. Enjoy." Then she went down the hole and closed the grassy cover leaving no sign of any disturbance.
A group of squirrels dashed down the tree, opened the container and collected the cashews within. The squirrels deposited the empty container in nearby trash barrel and disappeared into the dark branches high above the park.
"Bouncy" Donnie Coniglio chortled to himself as he laid his plans out on the table. With the promise of reinforcements, it was time to turn his attention to the other warrens. He picked up the intrawarren telephone and dialed up Southside Warren. As he waited for the connection he decided that after he'd completed his takeover, he'd invest more into communications. He wanted to see every <scaredpoofle> and <tremblefluff> when he talked to somebun.
"Yo! You got the Pres!" came Mellow Ears voice over the receiver.
"This is Don Coniglio," Bouncy said trying to vocalize the <dominatefluff>. "I've heard you've rejected our visitor's requests."
"You heard wrong. Gotta talk to the council first," Mellow Ears replied breezily. "Representative Democracy and all that. They were talkin' way too much milbun stuff for me. Uhuh. Don't go there. But I said come back later with another proposal."
"They may not be interested in what you have to say. I think I can offer them much more than you can."
"Oh I'm sure you can furnish the muscle but you don't have the brains," Mellow Ears said easily. "We're the ones with the best techbuns, programmers and geekbuns. We're an educational facility, remember?"
Tell me once more and I'll give you an education, Bouncy thought. "That's way I called," he said controlling his anger, "We'd make a great team. Together our two warrens could be a force that goes far beyond this valley."
"You mean your warren. We've followed your rise to power. Your objective is clear: to reunite the warrens and rule this valley." His laughter was harsh even over the phone. "There isn't a smidgeon of support for you anywhere. You just don't know how to get along, get down, and party."
"I will have milbun forces at my command," Bouncy said in a low voice.
"Ooo, I feel threatened," Mellow Ears mocked. "I'll take these proposals up with the council. Representative Democracy and all that. Have a day!" and hung up.
Bouncy fumed at the other leader's insolent manners but he relaxed and dialed up another number. This conversation would be much more satisfying.
"Riverside Warren, Lorrie Whitetail speaking."
"Hello Lorrie," he said warmly, "it's Donnie Coniglio."
"Greetings sir and the Blessings of Frith be upon you. How can I help you?"
"First, I'd like to thank you for your prompt delivery of toes. Your warren has provided all of Parlor City's warrens with toes for many years. But I do worry that the harvesting of human toes must have some negative effect on your work perfecting your inner fluff."
"We've had this conversation before," Lorrie said patiently. "The way we obtain toes does nothing to harm our fluffyness or our two legged friends. You need not worry about our souls, although it is kind of you to do so."
"We will eventually find your source," Bouncy replied a little harshly, "and when we do, we won't package them in that lousy marinade of yours."
"But soon," he continued in a lighter tone, "we will soon have our own source of toes. My new friends will supply all the toes, all the machines and all the milbun forces to do whatever we want to do." His voice became threatening. "We don't need you."
"On the contrary, you need us the most right now. Donnie, ask yourself, deep in your bunny heart; is this fluffy? Is this ky00t? For Frith's sake, think about what you're doing."
"I have and I will enjoy running a united Parlor City Warren," he said proudly. "Now you have two choices, surrender or face destruction. Now Lorrie," he continued smoothly, "I have great respect for you and your people. And I am prepared to be generous to you if you agree to my rule."
"I'm sorry," Lorrie replied. "But your philosophy and ours are at odds. We want to be left alone and at peace."
"You will regret this," he snarled and hung up on her. He nodded to himself. Yes. Riverside would be the first to go.
As she made her way through the warren, Lorrie Whitetail paused outside one of the rooms to listen in on one of the lessons for some of the younger kits.
"Why do they call us devilbunnies?" one kit asked. "Aren't devils mean and nasty?" Lorrie could hear the fur ruffling into an <ickpoofle>.
"A mistranslation," one of the teachers replied reassuringly. "The root word 'deva' is from a very old language. It means god. But to one human religious sect, one which became very powerful, there was only one god, their god. They taught that all other gods, other devas, were evil. But we are deva bunnies."
"God's bunnies?"
"Exactly."
<Sighfluffing>, she went into her office and stared at the two telephones sitting on her desk. One was connected to the outside world, the other was separate circuit connecting the various parts of the now divided Parlor City Warren. After praying for many hours she had come to a hard decision. As she paused, staring at the phones, she remembered what her teacher, Furry Thunderfoot, had told her many years ago: take the small steps first. Nodding, she reached for the Warren phone and pawed the number for Southside.
She got an answer almost immediately. "Hi ya, you got the Pres! What can I do for you?"
"President Mellow Ears? This is Lorrie Whitetail," she said respectfully.
"Hey Lorrie! It's good to talk to another elected official," and he chuckled at the other end of the line. "I'll bet this is about the two Outsiders."
"Yes. Northside called up and made some thinly veiled threats. Donnies's done this before, but he's never had the nerve or the strength to attack Riverside Warren. With the Outsiders to help, though, he's sure to try it now."
"Oh yeah. You're gonna have some toughs beating on your door real soon." Even over the phone line his <irritatedfluff> was plain. "Uncool. That "Bouncy" guy really needs to lay off the aggression stuff and get laid back. You know what I mean?"
Lorrie sighed inwardly. Next he'll say that Donnie needs to party more.
"He's so uptight," Mellow Ears continued. "He really needs to party more."
"His idea of partying," Lorrie said quietly, "consists of putting buns in 'The Box' and blasting them with heavy metal."
"Gross. Maybe we should get him some Herb Albert and the Tiahauna Brass for Frithmas."
"Mr. President," Lorrie said patiently, "we've been able to keep his thugs from bothering us with our small owsla, but if he gets outside help he'll steamroller us."
"I'd like to help you, but all we have is a few dedicated Security buns. As I told White Paw and his mentat, we're an educational facility: we don't have milbuns here."
"I'm not asking for troops," Lorrie replied. "Just whatever assistance you can give us. If Riverside goes down, he'll go after the squirrels and then you."
"I'll have to talk to the council first then I'll get back to ya. Have a day!" And he hung up on her.
Lorrie now stared at the other phone. She could call Riverside's sympathizers but she hated to bring in her two-legged friends into the conflict. If they got involved they could get hurt, and hurt badly. Bouncy's 'symps' were a mean bunch of humans. But they needed to know what was going on before the next delivery of toes.
She picked up the outside line and began to dial.
Margaret Woodfield poured tea from the silver teapot into the fine china cup just as the old clock in the living room chimed four o'clock. Like the chinaware, house and furniture, Margaret was refined and dignified. Like her money, she was mature and in very good shape. Her gray hair was attractively styled and she was smartly attired.
"It's looks like rain this evening," she said to her guest.
"It might be a rainy summer," Renee Gold replied. Like her host, she was well appointed and well placed in local society. "But perhaps it won't be severe." She smiled slightly. "We both remember the Flood of 1960."
Margaret paused while spooning out some sugar. "Yes, we remember." She nodded. "We are alone in the house so we may speak freely. Have you heard from our old friends lately?"
"Yes," Renee woman replied, "it looks like there are some outsider buns coming in and tipping the balance of power towards Northside."
Margaret made a refined look of disapproval. "We do not want such unpleasantness here. Have our friends asked for assistance?"
"Not yet, but I fear it will only be a matter of time before there is fighting below us." She shook her head. "It seems so unreal, to think that the bunnies could act so viciously to their own kind."
"It's not ky00t at all," Margaret nodded.
"Lorrie called me personally to tell me how much she was worried it. She is also very worried about us because Northside's 'symps' might cause us trouble if we interfere." Renee smiled a little. "Have you meet Lorrie? She's so adorable."
"I fear I have not, but I hope to soon. I well remember her mentor, Furry Thunderfoot who was a fine bun indeed. In this time of troubles, we should all try to do our part to help our furry friends even if it isn't... fluffy." She raised her eyebrows. "I've gotten hold of some interesting information about some of Northside's 'symps'. Information certain law enforcement officials might like to see." She raised her china cup to her lips. "Would that help?"
"Oh yes," Renee nodded, "as long as it can't be traced back to you. If the fighting gets bad we may have to evacuate the kits."
"Let's hope it doesn't," Margaret replied.
They politely discussed other matters and finished their tea. After Renee had left, Margaret went upstairs to her private office. At her mahogany desk she put aside her usual stationary and got out plain paper. She smiled slightly as she recorded the conversation she had with Renee, but not in her usual flowing script. She scrawled the words almost crudely across the page ending with an most unusual signature:
To Rend And Defend, Agent Rat
She placed the paper into a plain envelope, sealed it and addressed it.
"Phong will be pleased," she murmured as she strolled to the mailbox.
Gina smiled as Les appeared in the stairway of his apartment building. He seemed so different without his bulky trenchcoat and his kill-the-bunny attitude. Dressed in a pastel button-down shirt, casual slacks and loafers, he looked rather dapper. Combined with his slender frame, curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, he looked... well, cute for a guy. He smiled broadly when he saw her.
"Hi," he smiled and fished out a key from his pocket and displayed it. "For you."
"All right!" she exclaimed. She took it and unlocked the door. "Now I don't have to wait for you to get on the computer. Oh, I got the maps."
He nodded and went into the bedroom to change. Gina went immediately to where the computer had been stashed and set it up on the kitchen table. "You know, Les," she said as she hooked up the laptop, "this place is kinda dumpy. You could afford something better." She hesitated a moment, trying to sound diplomatic. "Or at least get some furniture besides a kitchen table, chairs and a bed."
"Not with my debts," Les replied dryly. A moment later he came out, in his 'working clothes'; black pants and tee-shirt. "I hope Phong gives us something to do besides read," he said twisting his tie in his hands, "I want some action."
Gina looked sideways at him. She'd been spending a lot of time with Les and it always disturbed her when this side of him surfaced. When bunnies weren't involved he seemed so sweet. "You seem a little too eager to go out plastering buns. After all we don't know where they are or how many there are. We need facts before we go charging in with guns spitting and sticks waving. You seem to be obsessed with the devilbunnies."
"I've got my reasons," he said quietly although his face was hard.
"Talk to me about it sometime?"
"Yeah, sure," and closed up like a clam.
Gina sighed inwardly. Men.
The computer modem squawked and Gina typed in her password. In large letters the screen displayed the text: "PGP - Phong's Great Privacy. Powered by Straw Hat."
Les rustled through the maps as she went through the login procedures. "Some of Phong's instructions don't make sense," he complained. "There's large areas he's labeled as off limits." Les pushed aside a tidy stack of printouts. "He doesn't want us investigating a big section of Johnson City yet he's still having us scrambling around the riverbanks."
"I'm sure he has his reasons," she replied quietly. "He may be cooking up something." She scanned the screen. "Well, it looks like your got your wish. We got orders, Matrix." She scrolled down the screen and shook her head. "We got all kinds of orders."
Matrix leaned over and scanned the screen. "What the heck... he wants us to get what? That is weird, truly..." then he nodded sagely. "I understand. Deception and deceit."
"You think so?" Stick asked as she double checked the list.
"I'd bet on it," he sighed. "I guess we're going shopping."
"I suppose but... oh my," and she waved him back over to the screen again.
Matrix read the screen and grinned evilly. Stick saw his look and felt a cold shiver go up her spine. "Oh yeah," he said gleefully, "we got shopping to do."
(Announcer's voice:)
Stay tuned for the up-coming Parlor City Stories mini-series: Reign of Terror!
Brought to you by the accounting firm of Scribble, Fudge and Figure. When it comes to doing your taxes remember: Scribble, Fudge and Figure.
The Apalachin raid mentioned in '[s]Parlor^W Symp City Stories 2, Episode 4 - Dinner with the Symps' was mentioned as being in 1962. This was an error on the author's part. The actual raid happened in 1957 when a local...ah, businessman invited some bigwigs from New York City up for a cookout at his country place outside the little town of Apalachin. The police raided the picnic sending the guests running into the woods. Why I got the date wrong is a puzzle to me, especially because a friend of mine lives just down the road from the place.
Parlor City Stories 2 took much longer to write than the first season due to both reality intrusions (I wonder if I could get a shield to protect me against them) and a sharp turn in the plot lines. This means there's more fun and games to come.
Building the world according to alt.db is fun, but I couldn't do without the help of a fine editor. A big fuzzy thanks to Kylinn (Tansy Bunny) who has guided my words and corrected my spilling^W spelling and motivated me to become a better writer. On to the mini-series!
To Rend and Defend,
Malada
Originally published on alt.devilbunnies between February 5 and February 18, 2001.