Sergeant McDugell liked order. He liked things to be neat, tidy, and in their proper place. Some went so far as to call him a ‘neat freak’, but only from behind his back. His love of order also allowed all his officers to be paid on time, and no one wanted to disrupt that.

His office door opened quickly, causing a wave of air to blow over his desk. Several papers shifted slightly, skewing his neat stacks of official paperwork. Automatically he frowned, wondering if lecturing his subordinates was even worth the trouble anymore.

As he looked up, he recognized the face of one of his more promising officers. He greeted the squirrel, “Officer Russell Longtail, how many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering?”

The brown-furred squirrel ignored the question and stated, “There’s been another incident, sir.”

McDugell stood up, grabbing his overcoat and hat. He hurriedly placed the articles on his person and gruffly asked, “Is it just like the last one?”

Russell glumly answered, “Almost. This time it was kittens, sir.”

The dour grey squirrel gasped, his mind reeling from the atrocity. He tripped over his own foot and stumbled. Officer Longtail caught him, and then stood him up. The two squirrels practically ran out of A.P.F. Headquarters, towards the crime scene.

When the two squirrels arrived in the alley behind the human apartment building, there were already two A.P.F. officers present. All officers present clapped their hands together and exhaled on them to ward off the frosty chill. A female badger was sniffing around the perimeter and a male cat was trying to talk to a hysterical female cat.

The female screeched, and then swiped at the feline A.P.F. officer. “MMMrrroooooowwwww!!! Why don’t you stop wasting time and kill the one who murdered my BABIES?!?!”

The feline officer smoothly replied, “Ma’am, unless you can tell me who did this crime, then we have to figure it out. If you’d like me to waste time fighting you rather than getting as many clues as we can, then go ahead and pounce on me.”

McDugell tried to take charge by clearing his throat and asking, “All right, what’s happened here?” His breath came in clouds as he spoke.

The feline officer replied, “Officer Jeremiah Splinterclaw, sir. My partner Officer Jane Stripepaw over there and I heard this lady in distress. When we arrived, we found this basket of six kittens. They’re dead, sir. They were killed the same way as the other cats in the past two weeks. There’s a small patch of blood on their backs, between the shoulder blades. It must be poison, sir, because their eyes and lips are discolored and shrunken.”

The female cat sneered, “You call him ‘Sir’? Why do you take orders from food? You weak or something?”

The male cat’s fur bristled a little, but he kept his cool. McDugell interrupted, “A tiny patch of blood isn’t enough to cause death for a healthy animal, even a kitten. I agree it must be poison. We’ll learn more from the autopsies.”

The female crouched in an aggressive stance, totally bristled her fur, then yowled, “You even touch my precious babies and I’ll rend your whole family to bits, nut-eater!!!”

Russell gasped in shock and stepped backwards. McDugell, used to hearing this kind of thing, stood his ground like a statue, staring down the enraged cat. The feline officer stepped between his senior officer and the grief-stricken mother. He slowly flicked each claw out from his paws and said evenly, “Ma’am, we’re trying to help you. If you really want to help the killer get away with this, then you can go ahead and attack us. However, I assure you that the four of us will be more than a match for you.”

The female cat’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked around to see that she was surrounded. The badger had circled around behind her, eyes bloodshot. The brown squirrel had recovered, drawing his club for self-defense. The Jeremiah was deceptively calm. His posture was steady, but his muscles were tense. McDugell had not even budged.

The feline matron quickly figured out that attacking the A.P.F. would be a foolish move. Instead, she leaped backwards into the air. She sailed over the head of the badger to land on her feet in front of the basket of kittens. She hissed herself into a foaming frenzy and decided to go down like a mother defending her children.

The assembled officers decided that it wasn’t worth attacking the decidedly imbalanced creature. They retreated to the sidewalk curb where they compared evidence. Officer Stripepaw reported, “Sir, there’s more tufts of dark fur covered in dust and grime again. Also, paw prints mostly wiped out. It’s the same animal, sir. Damned clever to obscure his track like that.”

Officer Longtail retorted, “You don’t know if it’s male or female yet, Officer Stripepaw. This could possibly be the work of one or more females. Nevertheless, I’ll shuttle the samples to the labs for testing.”

Seeing his badger officer shake her head, McDugell asked, “You have some further evidence, Jane?”

The badger looked her chief right in the eye and stated, “The faint traces of scent at the scene were like the others. Too faint to identify, but clearly male. Now, a female might have done the crimes against the adults, but not this one. Killing a basket of kittens is a male’s crime. No female would ever harm babies like this.”

Officer Splinterclaw glumly nodded, “As much as I hate to say so, I kinda agree with Jane. You just don’t see females killing babies if they can walk away instead. Now if it was rodent babies and they were partially eaten, then it could be a male or female predator. But this? No way it’s female.”

Upon seeing McDugell’s eyebrow raise inquisitively, the badger closed her argument by devoutly stating, “It goes against Nature, sir.”

In the middle of the park stood an oak tree, its leaves covered in frost. Inside the hollow trunk, seven of the city’s bravest animals relaxed in their own ways. In the living room, the television was turned off. Dale, Foxglove, and Tammy sat with rapt attention as Monty and Zipper told a story of past adventure. Chip and Gadget were conspicuously absent and the others felt that they must be both in the same place, so it was best to leave them alone.

Monty waved his arms grandly, explaining, “There we were, both Zippah an’ me, lost an’ stranded in tha Romanian wilderness. Them gypsies had mistaken our practical jokes fer actual goblins raidin’ their pantries. We had jus’ decided to high-tail it outta there an’ had crested the second hill when we ‘eard the most awful howlin’ I evah ‘eard.”

Zipper nodded, and then took over the story. He flew to the ground, and then mimed the action of running away. His face took on the image of terror as he squeaked and buzzed the next part.

Dale immediately trembled in fear and clung to Foxglove. Tammy’s and Foxglove’s eyes went wide as they contemplated what the brave fly was telling them. Foxglove asked, “A real werewolf? The gypsies kept a real, honest-to-goodness werewolf as a guard dog?”

The rotund cheese-hunter stated, “Yup! I knew it was a real werewolf when they addressed it as ‘Grigori’. That was the name of the elder’s brother who tried to steal tribe’s money an’ make off to tha city. They cursed ‘im with their weird, gypsy magic, an’ then kept ‘im as a beast ta guard tha tribe.”

Foxglove began to tremble, then clung onto Dale. Tammy wished she had someone to cling onto. Zipper began to buzz and squeak, miming the action of tumbling. He stood up, then held up his arms and walked backwards in a circle.

Tammy nervously asked, “It caught up to you? What happened next?”

Monty balled up his fists and punched the air. He boasted, “Why, oi knocked the livin’ daylights roight outta that wolf!” Zipper buzzed reproachfully, glaring at his friend. Monty’s shoulders slumped as he admitted, “All right, all right! While I kept tha werewolf busy, Zipper rubbed our last sprig of wolfsbane all over his body an’ then flew up his nose.”

The others lost their composure and began to laugh and roll around on the floor. Dale chuckled, “Heh, heh-heh-heh, heeee! What a silly way to repel a werewolf! That’s using HIS head, Zip!”

Foxglove giggled and added, “When it doubt, follow your nose!”

Tammy smiled and called out, “What an amazing smell you’ve discovered!”

Chip and Gadget walked into the living room, both with silly grins on their faces. Gadget asked, “What’s so funny?” Before anyone could respond, the sound of feline yowling sounded from outside.

Chip opened the door and said, “That was from the base of the tree. C’mon!” The Rescue Rangers ran outside to the railing. They were greeted by the sight of two alley cats staring up at them with angry expression on their faces.

Both alley cats were female and old, as their mangy hides testified. It wasn’t clear whether their shivering was from old age, missing patches of fur in the cold air, or a combination of both. Still, they retained enough fur to show that it their prime, one was a grey, smoky color and the other was snowy white. The white one called up, “We had a devil of a time finding out where you rodents lived.”

Gadget’s mind began calculating several strategies for repelling climbing cats, while Chip’s mind tried to trace back chains of informants who might tell a couple of cats where the Rescue Rangers lived.

Monty unconsciously stepped behind Tammy, who tried not to look scared. Dale pushed Foxglove behind him and challenged, “Oh yeah? Well, we won’t go down so easily!”

The grey cat sneered, “You rodents aren’t worth the trouble to eat! Even if we did rip apart that flimsy house of yours, over half the entire city would run us out of town! We don’t have much, and we’re not about to lose that! We want to hire you half-pints!”

Zipper, unafraid as he was a fly and too unclean to eat, flew down and buzzed at the cats. The white one said, “It’s about the murders lately. Only cats are being killed and the bodies aren’t eaten. It’s no predator, so it’s got to stop.”

Foxglove called down, “Did you call the A.P.F.?”

The grey cat sneered, “Of course we called those fools! Those idiots wanted to take the bodies away so they could play with them! We just want this killer stopped, at all costs!”

Monty mumbled, “Do your own dirty work, ya mangy flea-farms.”

Gadget asked, “Do you know how the murders are committed?”

The cat with smoky fur yowled, “Who cares?! Cats are being murdered! Just today there was a basket of kittens that were all killed as they slept!!! Stop asking foolish questions and kill the one who’s doing this!”

Tammy yelled down, “We’re the Rescue Rangers! We don’t kill anyone! Tell you what, we’ll capture this fiend and turn them over to the A.P.F.”

The pale-furred cat hissed, “You can’t expect the A.P.F. to dispense true justice! These are unnatural killings, not accidents! The bodies aren’t even nibbled upon, much less eaten! This murderer is an affront to Nature! You can’t let him continue!”

Chip calmly pointed out, “If we also kill this murderer without having the body consumed, then we would be committing an unnatural act also. That won’t serve anyone.”

The white cat screeched, “Then hand him over to us!! We will have vengeance! If you protect this murderer, then no cat in this city will feel safe! We’ll just have to band together and find him ourselves!” With that, the cats stalked off back towards the alleyways.

Chip tugged on his hat thoughtfully, and then called out, “Rangers, to the conference room! We’ve got planning to do!”

The group converged around the kitchen table and began discussing the situation. Chip could tell from the mixed expressions on his friends’ faces that there was a variety of opinions about how to proceed. He asked, “Well, what do you think, Rangers?”

Always one to speak his mind, Monty said, “Now Chippah, I’m not lookin’ fer an argument, but oi gotta say my peace. You younger ones jus’ don’ know how good you’ve got it. I’ve been all around the world a few toimes an’ seen how it is in other parts of tha world. You think killin’ a few cats is horrible? It ain’t nearly as bad as I’ve personally seen. I’ve seen entire tribes of cats poisoned to death over a land dispute, kittens included. I’ve seen dogs ritually sacrificed by fire by their own kind fer ‘good luck’. I’ve lost count of tha numbers of rodent communities that club strangers ta death jus’ fer walkin’ in close to their settlements. Oi say leave this alone, Chippah. It’s goin’ ta jus’ create more problems than you solve. ‘Sides, it’s only cats. I say good riddance.”

Several of the other Rangers gasped at this point of view. Chip expected this line of thought, and Zipper had his own reasons for not being surprised.

Gadget stood up, pointing her finger at Monty. Her face screwed up is disgust as she accused, “Monty, how could you? This is a cruel and unnatural act! It’s against Nature! It breaks the Circle of Life! There are more far-reaching repercussions than just a few dead cats. What if all the cats retaliate? Then this will be a war zone!”

Foxglove raised her wing timidly, as if still in school. Chip interrupted Gadget’s tirade to acknowledge her. “Yes, Foxy? You have something to say?”

The kind-hearted bat spoke, “Um…yes. Has anyone considered the other end of this crime? I mean this seems cruel and unjust, but what animal wants to provoke open war with predators? Has anyone thought about maybe this killer might be insane?” The others sobered at the thought. What do they do if the animal was insane, and thus not responsible for their actions? Foxglove added, “If they’re not capable of stopping, then won’t we send them to the mental hospital?”

Tammy spoke next, “Well, I don’t know about politics and beliefs very much. In my house growing up, we were taught not to cause problems for others. This killer is causing a problem for cats, which in turn causes problems for us. We should just do what the law says and then everything will go back to normal. Let’s capture this person and hand them over to the A.P.F., done deal.”

The blonde inventor looked accusingly over towards the fedora-clad chipmunk and asked, “What about you, Chip? What do you believe?”

Chip tugged on his fedora thoughtfully, and then stated, “This is clearly murder. If it was just one adult cat and no more, then it might be self-defense. This is clearly stalking and killing animals out of hatred or revenge. Therefore, it has to stop. If we don’t stop it, then the cats will band together and go hunting for this killer. Since they don’t know who it is, they’ll destroy half the city, animals included, just to find this one criminal. I agree with Tammy and then let the judge and jury decide what to do.”

Zipper cleared his throat, and then buzzed for attention. Everyone politely gave him their full attention and listened to his speech. He began to pantomime, buzz, and squeak a long, complicated series of statements from the point of view of a cold-blooded scavenger. He told of his frustration that warm-blooded animals gave mystical properties to a simple state of being. He explained that death was simply not being alive and that the end result of murder, accident, and old age resulted in the exact same result, a decaying corpse. He finished by stating his confusion over how anyone could get so worked up over how anyone died rather than how they lived.

The others gasped again at the uncaring attitude towards death. Gadget slammed her paws on the kitchen table and yelled. “Zipper, how could you?! You’re part of the sacred Circle of Life! If we don’t have that, then it’s just chaos and pandemonium! We need this fundamental order to ensure that all animal species will survive! If a species breaks the Circle, then the entire animal population will suffer! It’s a provable, scientific fact!”

The others began yelling a series of arguments to each other.

Monty dismissed, “It’s only a bunch of cats! Cats will eat us all if you let ‘em!”

Gadget screamed, “It goes against everything civilized animals stand for!”

Tammy cried out, “Let’s just stop this and get everything back to normal!”

Foxglove yelled, “You want to allow someone to be killed for having problems?”

Zipper buzzed angrily. He reminded everyone at the table that animals get gassed everyday by humans who don’t want to take care of them. He finished by shrugging his shoulders uncaringly.

Chip smashed his fists into the kitchen table, causing it to shudder. He bellowed, “EVERYONE SHUT UP!!!” The others stopped, shocked at this uncharacteristic outburst from their leader. He continued, “Dale, what do you think?”

All eyes turned to the Hawaiian-clad chipmunk. He tugged the collar of his shirt and nervously spoke. “I don’t know anything about Circles or other countries or mental instability, but I do know one thing. No matter what, those kittens didn’t ever deserve to be killed for any reason.”

The others quieted, feeling all hostility leave them. It was true. Regardless of anything else they could debate, the Rangers silently agreed that the kittens did not deserve to die. Dale finished by stating, “You can each believe anythin’ you want. But me, I’m going to say that we investigate and find this person, whoever it is. When we find out why they did it, then we can argue over what to do about it. But right now let’s get crackin’ before any other kittens die because we couldn’t work together.”

An hour later, two chipmunks stood at the back entrance to a butcher shop. The chipmunk with the red nose trembled and said, “Remind me again why I’m doin’ this?”

The other chipmunk, wearing a leather bomber jacket, said playfully, “Because Foxglove said that you were ‘the bravest, wisest, ‘most handsomest’ chipmunk in the whole world’ and that if anyone could pull this off, you could.” He began to chuckle under his breath with amusement.

Dale replied, frowning, “I gotta have a little talk with Foxy about speakin’ up for me. Let’s get this over with.”

The two chipmunks walked to the front of the alley, next to the sidewalk. They took a deep breath, then exhaled, clouds enveloping their heads. Then they began to yell and argue loudly to each other.

“He went this way!”

“No he didn’t, nuts for brains!”

“He did too! I saw him run towards the butcher shop!”

“How do you know it’s the cat-killer?”

“He had a razor blade stained with cat fur!”

“Well, where did he go?!”

“He ducked inside the back door when the butcher went to get the scraps!”

The sounds of meows and yowls sounded as a half-dozen cats came running from nearby alleys to converge on the two chipmunks. A large, black-furred cat demanded, “Did you see him?”

Dale pointed into the alley and stated, “Yeah! He ducked into the back door! We’ve gotta get inside before he gets away!”

The cat said, “No problem! We can get that door open, right fellas?”

The other cats agreed, retracting their claws inside their paws. The group of felines raced down the alley and sat in a semicircle around the door. More cats arrived at the entrance to the alley to watch the excitement. Out of the corner of their eyes, Chip and Dale noticed the mother of the murdered kittens sitting impatiently with the others at the alley entrance.

The cats began to sing off-key in the most horrible cacophony heard in recent memory. Chip yelled over the noise to Dale, “That’s our cue, come on!” The chipmunks raced down the alley to stand up against the wall next to the doorframe.

Meanwhile, one alley over, a kind-hearted bat fluttered around the piles of trash that made up the makeshift mother cat’s home. She used her echolocation skills to sweep the entire alley for a moment, and then flew up to the roof of the building. There she met the rest of the Rangers in their aircraft, rubbing their fingers to keep them warm. Gadget decided it was time to start pulling out the winter clothes. Foxglove reported, “The cats are gone! Go now!”

Gadget replied, “Roger wilfurry! Monty, follow me down on the other side! Foxy, circle over the basket!” She activated the controls to the Rangerplane, causing its wings to flap. Beside her, Zipper flew down to the trash heap.

Monty activated the controls of the Rangerwing, keeping the rotors in ‘hover’ mode. He flew the Rangerwing like a helicopter, gently descending down towards the ground. Beside him, Tammy gripped the grappling cables tightly, waiting for her cue.

Foxglove used her echolocation to aggressively scan the piles of trash, looking for a radar signature shaped like a basket. The trash was composed of plastic, thick cardboard, paper, and lots of metal. Her echolocation wasn’t picking up anything useful so far. She sighed in frustration.

Zipper had no such problems. Being a scavenger, he had an acute sense of smell to rival that of Dale hunting for chocolate or Monty during a cheese attack. He flew right into the pile of trash, distinguishing all of the dozens of independent smells. After a moment, he found the smell he was looking for. He followed the scent deeper inwards to a rotten blanket which concealed the basket and its grisly contents.

He flew out and waved his arms to Foxglove. Foxy then circled over Zipper. The pilots of the aircraft spotted this signal and moved to descend on opposite sides of the bat. Monty let the Rangerplane approach first as it needed to fly downward in spirals to lose altitude whereas he merely needed to reduce throttle.

Once the aircraft had achieved their positions, Tammy jumped out with the cables. She and Zipper began pushing trash off the top of the basket. The red-haired squirrel called out, “Foxy! Keep a lookout!” The bat flew back upwards, flying a circuit up and down the alley. She altered her pattern to resemble a bat looking for an insect to feed upon. This way she wouldn’t look suspicious or invite scrutiny.

The door to the butcher shop opened, and a surly-looking human with a bulging waistline emerged. He threw an old shoe at the assembled feline chorus, screaming, “Get out of here you mangy strays!!!”

The cats merely jumped out of the way, then jumped back into formation. They sang even louder. The human tugged on his hair in frustration and yelled, “If I feed you, will you go away?”

Suddenly, every cat in the alley became perfectly quiet. The human grunted and then walked back inside, mumbling about needing to buy a bottle of poison one of these days. The black-furred cat spoke quickly to the chipmunks, “Now’s your chance! Get him!”

The chipmunks nodded, and then bolted just inside the doorframe. They looked around inside, seeing the butcher behind his carving table, sink, towels, newspapers, closed door to the front of the store, and the floor drain.

Chip called back to the cats, “Keep the human occupied for one more minute! The suspect went down the floor drain!”

Dale ran over and pulled up the grate over the drain and added, “We’ll go after him but keep the human busy!”

With that, the chipmunks leaped down the drain, climbing into the sewers. Dale replaced the drain grate as he entered after Chip. The human came out with a small bucket of scraps. The old meat pieces and fat chunks smelled like a four-star banquet to the homeless felines. They jumped upon the human, knocking him over. He fell to the floor, knocking the bucket over. The cats grabbed all the scraps they could, then bolted away towards their homes.

When the cats at the entrance to the alley saw there were scraps left over, they too bolted in, grabbed scraps, and left in a hurry. The human stood up, flailing his arms and yelling, “That’s it! I’ll kill you flea-bitten filth!” He retreated inside his shop and slammed the door shut.

Zipper had pushed the last cardboard box over, revealing the concealed basket. He wisely decided to leave the covering blanket in place for the sanity of his warm-blooded teammates. The bodies of the kittens had begun to decompose quickly in the humid, cramped environment.

Tammy hooked the cables up to the sides of the basket and the landing gear of the aircraft. She was just checking her knots when Foxglove flew back in a panic. “They’re coming! Hurry up!”

The squirrel climbed into the back of the Rangerwing and yelled, “It’s secure! Take off!” The two mice activated their controls, commanding their overburdened vehicles to fly forward and gain altitude. The Rangerwing had to slow down to match the Rangerplane perfectly, lest the difference in speeds end up tugging them both into a wall.

Soon, the Rangers had the basket airborne and headed towards the roof of the St. Octavia Hospital. They had arranged to meet a few people up there who would do them a favor. Chip and Dale would wind up in a different place when they were through.

Officers scrambled to get out of the way of the two chipmunks who walked towards McDugell’s office. McDugell’s nose crinkled in disgust as he smelled the characteristic scent of a moldy sewer. Out of breath, Chip and Dale walked into this office. The gruff, grey squirrel asked, “Couldn’t you have passed through the water treatment plant before coming here?”

Dale chuckled and Chip replied in a deadpan voice, “Real funny, McDugell. Har-har.” He decided not to pass his stench onto McDugell’s chair by sitting in it.

The grey squirrel asked, “Well, what did you learn from the bodies?”

Chip held his stomach and said, “We left those details to the scientists. Forgive me if I don’t want to stare at the inside of a dead animal.”

McDugell answered, “All right, Chip. That’s fair, I suppose. I’ll expect a full report once they’re done. So, what did you need to see me for?”

Dale asked, “Well, once we get an idea of who did this, an’ maybe catch him, what’re you gonna do with him?”

The A.P.F. officer replied, “Well, we’re going to arrest them and put them on trial. If we have enough evidence, we’ll put them in jail. The same thing we do to everyone else who would do this. Why do you ask?”

The red-nosed one said, “Are you sure you can guarantee a fair trial? I mean every cat in the city is gonna want him killed and eaten. Can we be sure you’ll even put a defense lawyer that will even try to work for him?”

McDugell stood up and slammed his paws on his desk. He roared, “What are you implying? Are you suggesting that I’d just throw a trial to bow to a bunch of cats?!?!”

Chip cracked his knuckles and stated, “Or just the other way. What if you protected him from trial? Even if it’s not you, what about the other officers? If it’s a rodent, will they sympathize with him? Besides, what if Dr. Speck can prove he’s insane? Our laws don’t allow executions for the insane, no matter how heinous the crime.”

McDugell’s retort was cut off by his logical brain. What if? What if this? What if that? The current laws use just a judge to decide unusual cases since common animals might not understand the law in unusual situations. What happens if either side demands a jury trial? What happens if the jury itself is all predators? What happens if it is all prey? Will the public try to start a riot regardless of the verdict?

The leather-clad chipmunk offered, “We don’t have any laws covering real murder. I think the city council needs to find out a way to settle things like this quickly, or else others may get an idea from this trial to use loopholes in the current system.”

The chipmunks left the A.P.F. Headquarters to head for Ranger Headquarters. When they arrived, they used the ‘best out of thirteen coin tosses’ method of deciding who got to shower first. McDugell decided to draft a letter to submit to city council.

Later that evening, the rest of the Rangers arrived at headquarters. They pulled themselves into the kitchen after a long day, tired and hungry. Chip and Dale decided to forego the regular schedule of taking turns for cooking and just decided to make dinner for everyone.

Since they had time to prepare, they decided to make ravioli stuffed with cheese and a tomato sauce. They baked a walnut pie for dessert and strawberry slices on the side. For a special treat, they passed around thimbles of ginger ale soda to drink. Dale had been saving that bottle for a special occasion, but this time, they may need the pick-me-up.

After dinner, Monty wiped the crumbs of parmesan cheese off his moustache and asked, “All right, luv. You’ve been messin’ around with Dr. Woodridge fer hours with them autopsies. Tell us what we’re up against.”

After everyone cleared the table, Chip pulled out his notepad and pencil stub to take notes. Gadget tried to talk, but her breath caught in her throat. Chip abandoned his tools and walked over to stand behind his favorite mouse. He put his hands on her shoulders in support.

At first, she flinched. She looked back reflexively, fear in her eyes. Monty frowned ruefully, No matter how long she lives with others, some small part of her is still stuck in Geegaw’s old plane. After a moment, recognition dawned in her eyes. She leaned back into Chip’s embrace and whispered, “Massage me later?”

Chip kissed her on the cheek and whispered back, “Of course, my love. As much as you want.” She turned back to the others, fully confident. Foxglove decided to wrap her wings around Dale, both giving and receiving support as well.

Gadget began her explanation, “I don’t think I’ll ever remember the smell of formaldehyde the same way ever again. Dr. Woodridge and I worked together on the autopsies of the kittens. Even though we could guess that they all died the same way, we did each and every one to make sure. Now we are sure.”

She took another drink of ginger ale and continued. “At first it seemed obvious what the cause of death was. Each kitten had a small patch of blood matting their fur on their backs between the shoulder blades. There were no other wounds on their bodies. When we opened the skin underneath the blood patches, we extracted a needle from each kitten.”

Everyone except Chip and Gadget gasped at this piece of information. Tammy asked, “Needles? Did someone stab the kittens in the heart or something?”

The blonde inventor replied, “Nope. None of the needles even touched the heart, lungs, or spine.”

The airborne paramedic racked her brain, thinking of possible explanations. She said, “Well, then that couldn’t have caused death, just lots of pain. HEY!!! I just figured out something!”

As everyone gave her their attention, Gadget smiled with pride. She’s figuring things out without us laying it all out for her. She’s going to make a first-class detective someday.

Tammy explained, “Those kinds of injuries are extremely painful. The kittens would wake up and scream in pain. The mother said she just woke up with every one of them dead. Either they stabbed all of the kittens at once, or one by one. They couldn’t have stabbed them all at once because they were kinda all piled on top of one another with just their heads and shoulders poking out in random directions. Somehow, each needle kept the kittens from waking up. Didn’t the adult cats have signs of poison?”

Chip nodded, “Yup, they all has the discolored eyes and lips from poison.”

Gadget stated, “Potassium chloride, mixed with other compounds into a high-concentration liquid. Dr. Woodridge is running some more tests but he thinks he recognizes signs of tetrodotoxin poisoning as well in each kitten. A very fiendish combination of a lethal poison and a fast-acting paralyzing agent to prevent the victim from crying out.”

Chip immediately stopped massaging Gadget’s shoulders, much to her dismay. He took up his notepad and pencil stub and began writing page after page of something very fast. At length, he asked without looking up, “What about other evidence?”

Monty offered, “Well, I hate ta say this, Chip, but there ain’t none.”

Calmly, Chip looked up at Monty and arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

The Aussie explained, “There was evidence taken at each scene, sure. However, it’s all missin’! Jus’ a few dirty pieces of fur an’ some mostly wiped-out tracks. Jus’ about every one of them are lost in tha shuffle! It’s amazin’ how they all just mysteriously vanished. The doc don’ even wanna say if it’s the same bloke at each scene, jus’ ta be careful.”

Chip smirked, and then went back over his recent notes. He began crossing out seemingly random bits of data, smiling all the way.

Tammy said, “Well, all we gotta do is find out who’s got access to potassium chloride and tetrodotoxin, right? It can’t be that common.”

Gadget stated, “Golly, you’re right! We can come up with a definitive list of suspects and then cross off each name as we discover their alibi for each and every crime until we see a pattern and then get McDugell to get a warrant for each and every animal who might have even been near the bottles of chemicals!”

The others then felt their spirits sank as they realized how many hundreds of suspects they may actually have to investigate.

Chip pressed, “Gadget, exactly how was the poison delivered?”

The blonde inventor explained, “Each needle is actually an old-fashioned metal syringe that’s hollow. It was made of surgical stainless steel and actually has a notch in the back end of it to fit a bowstring. Considering the depth of the wound, I’d seriously wager that it was a compound bow with a draw pull of several times the killer’s own weight.”

Tammy stated, “Hmmm, that way it could be fire from a distance and still inject its toxin. After the toxin was empty, the needle actually might be capable of drawing blood out of the body and onto the fur.”

Dale and Foxglove shivered at the coldness of the medical discussion. Foxglove began to whimper and cry into Dale’s shoulder. The red-nosed chipmunk, feeling protective of his love, snapped, “HeyyoureupsettingFoxyshedoesntdeservetocrystopit!”

Chip spoke evenly back, “She’ll hear it if she wants to be a Rescue Ranger. We don’t always have nice cases like helping puppies find their Frisbees. What type of fur was it, and what can you tell from the tracks?”

Zipper squeaked and mimed an explanation about the fur. Monty confirmed, “Yup, me pallie’s the greatest at ignoring gunk on stuff. If’n he says it’s the fur of a brown squirrel, then it’s slices ta wheels that it’s true.”

Gadget confirmed, “The tracks would seem to fit a tall rodent like a squirrel, too. It would be about average height and weight for a male or a tall, bulky female.”

Tammy stood up indignantly. She demanded, “You don’t think a squirrel could have done this, do you? We’re not the ones hunted by cats, it’s your species!”

Gadget yelled back crossly, “Hey, watch it with the insults! I’m just telling you what the evidence is!”

Tammy pleaded with Chip, “You’ve got to find this suspect and hide him! If the city’s cats find out it was a rodent, they’ll kill every last squirrel in the city in revenge! I can’t allow that to happen to my mom and sister!”

Gadget accused, “What happened to ‘follow the law and get back to normal’, huh? It’s different now that we’re looking for a squirrel. How do we know you don’t know who it is and you’re protecting him?”

Chip commanded in a moderate tone, “Quiet.”

The others calmed down and waited.

At length, Chip finally stopped writing and crossing out lines on his paper. He sat back and steepled his fingers. His expression went from silent wonder slowly towards grimly intense.

Zipper buzzed a question. Monty added, “Yeah, mate. Does this mean you have a plan? Tell us.”

Chip stated, “Yes, I have a plan and a suspect in mind. However, I hope I’m wrong. Gadget, how did you get access to those samples? If most of them are missing, how do you know what was found at each scene? Also, could I get a breakdown of the victims?”

Gadget replied, “Practically all of the crime scenes were in the patrol area of Officer Splinterclaw and Officer Stripepaw. They found and reported most of the victims, so they got a good look. Also, they remember the evidence well enough to say what it was. They say someone else took the evidence to the labs for analysis, but they don’t remember who. If you ignore the kittens, then all of the cats were male, calico, and middle-aged. The only difference with the kittens is that they were young and two of them were female.”

Dale asked, “Well, then are they our suspects? They discovered the crimes and could’ve messed with evidence.”

Foxglove was shocked. She asked, “How could you think that of the A.P.F.?”

Chip replied, “Interesting theory, Dale. It would work except that McDugell himself saw each crime scene, too. If his story differed from the others, then that would immediately reveal them. No, it was someone else who had access to the evidence and the chemical labs at the hospital. Potassium chloride is used in lethal injections and tetrodotoxin is found in hospitals. If someone’s been poisoned, they take a sample of blood and try to match. If it does, then they know what the patient’s been poisoned with. It can also be used to make an antidote quickly if the supply is low.”

Tammy asked, “Do you have a better idea?”

The leather-clad detective tugged his hat and stated, “Even better. I’ve got a plan to catch that murderer red-handed, but it’s going to take a volunteer. Gadget, I’ll need you construct a mobile shell that looks like a foreign calico cat. The rest of us need to talk to McDugell tomorrow morning to arrange a trap.”

The next day, close to sunset, an animal-sized limousine pulled up to the front of the ‘Queen of the Sea’ animal hotel near the waterfront. The air was cool, but not cold enough to frost. A slight breeze came off the ocean, making it tough to stay warm without endless fidgeting in place. It was an open secret that the Siamese Twins owned the hotel and used it for clandestine meetings. To date, no one had been able to obtain solid evidence of this, so the mystery pervades.

Tonight, the docks were abuzz with rampant rumors that one of the entourage of the honorable Peter Skaukatter Ibsen, a champion purebred Norwegian Forest Cat and Scandinavian diplomat to North America, had leaked news of a secret meeting between the diplomat and the Siamese Twins. The fact that the diplomat was carried by an armored limousine straight towards the hotel, where the ballroom was strictly off-limits to anyone not on the guest list, only fueled the fervor of the crowd of animals that crowded the walkways around the hotel.

As the limousine approached the front of the hotel, the animals tried to crowd closer to catch a better glimpse of the diplomat, only to be beaten back by hotel security. Normally, crowds of onlookers fight back to some degree. However, the red sashes around the waists of the security personnel assured everyone that any who injured even an indirect employee of the Siamese Twins would severely pay a penalty.

The assembled animals whispered more rumors to each other, sharing half-baked ideas about the visit. Was the diplomat here for a treaty signing? Was he here for a new working contract? Was it true that the Twins were afraid of the mystery cat-killer and wanted to ship in dozens of highly-trained mercenary cats to raze the city?

The limousine pulled to a stop in front of the rich carpeting. A small Siamese Cat, wearing a red sash, rushed up to open the door. A tall, slender cat with orange and white fur exited the car regally. He wore a feline-sized tuxedo and walked on all fours towards the front doors.

The crowd, especially the cats, cheered for him as he walked. Stiffly, he turned to each side of the carpet and gave a simple bow to acknowledge the greeting. A shabby female cat waved her paw and called out, “Yoo-hoo! Mr. Diplomat, I’m in room three-two-nine!”

A low voice sounded from the diplomat, even though his lips did not move. The shabby female and a few nearby cats heard, “Meow, baby.”

Dreaming of a romantic evening with a suave, foreign male who must be rich, the female sighed and chose to faint in a lady-like manner.

Fortunately, nobody heard the second lipless phrase from the cat, “Shut up, Dale.”

CLINK! A needle, flying massively fast, bounced off of the lower right side of the diplomat’s neck. The foreign cat swiveled its head to the right, looking up sharply. The assembled animals froze at the exact, machine-like motion of the neck. Their brains also locked up upon hearing the small, high-pitched voice call out, “He’s in Bravo! Bravo Point! Go get ‘em!”

From inside the car, a fly sped out and buzzed straight back along the path of the projectile. From on top of the building across the street, a bat took off, flying towards the source of the needle. The orange and white cat lowered its head to the ground and its shoulders detached from its body. As the front of the cat fell apart, two chipmunks ran out to head back into the limousine. They slammed the door shut as the car drove away and pulled a U-turn, heading towards the ground underneath where the deadly missile was fired from.

The crowd began to disperse as they realized what was happening. Obviously, the A.P.F. had lured the cat-killer into a sting operation and all cats were now in danger. Therefore all the assembled cats did what reasonable cats do when they think they may be in danger. They scream, claw each other, yowl, fake injuries, and blame everyone around them in a vain effort to draw attention away from themselves.

By this time, the Rangerwing had flown down from the top of the hotel to head towards the building where everyone else was going towards. Seeing the armored limousine stop in front of the private office building, Gadget piloted the aircraft towards the back alley.

Zipper buzzed up to the second and third story windows, looking inside. He turned around and shrugged at the limousine. A pair of A.P.F. officers, a male and a female raccoon, left the car to take their positions guarding the front doors.

Foxglove flew around the building to the back side, spotting Gadget and Tammy in the Rangerwing. She flew over, yelling, “The back door! He’s taking the back stairs!”

Tammy gave the ‘thumb’s up’ as Gadget reduced the throttle severely. The Rangerwing plummeted the last few stories down. She shifted the throttle up and shoved the left foot pedal forward. As the Rangerwing began to flat spin port side, she flipped the hover switch and evened the throttle. The Rangerwing switched from flight to hover while spinning half a circle to the left. The end result was that when Gadget evened the foot pedals, Tammy had a totally clear shot of the back door without having to adjust to not hit the nose of the aircraft.

The back door slammed open, allowing a dark-furred squirrel, dressed all in black, to leave the building. He carried a composite longbow made of steel in his left hand. On his back was a quiver of three syringes.

Acting on impulse, Tammy fired the plunger gun. The plunger arced right at the suspect, unraveling the net behind it. The net engulfed the squirrel, taking him totally by surprise. Tammy looked back at Foxglove, saying sweetly, “Request backup.”

A minute later, the squirrel was wrestled to the ground by the two A.P.F. officers. They held him steady while Tammy carefully removed the remaining syringes from his quiver with pliers. She jammed the sharp ends of the needles into a piece of cork and sealed it in a little plastic bag. She then borrowed a combat knife from a raccoon and cut away the part of the net holding the quiver. She then cut away the quiver, careful not to tip it over in case there was any loose poison inside. She took charge of the offending items until the Hazmat team arrived to take charge of the deadly chemicals.

Once this was done, the A.P.F. began retraining the suspect and read him his rights. McDugell himself walked around the side of the building at this time, wearing a Kevlar body vest stenciled with ‘A.P.F.’ on the front and back.

He walked up to the captured suspect and spoke deeply, “Well done, Rangers! Well done, everyone! I had only hoped to capture this criminal so soon, but all of you made this possible.”

He then glared right at the restrained squirrel, using one of his nastiest expressions reserved only for the scum of the Earth. The suspect and even the present officers shuddered, for it was not a pretty sight. He growled, “Well, you’ve turned my city into a pit of fear, scum. It was so bad that all the cats were ready to commit genocide just to get at you. I’ve had several threats towards me that if I don’t turn you over to the local widows and orphans in Cat Alley, there will be a riot. Frankly, I’m thinking that a full-blown trial is a waste of precious court time for a thing like you. I’m seriously considering their offer.”

The squirrel in custody felt cold and he shivered. He whimpered, “No! Don’t do that, sir! You can’t do that to me! They’re monsters, all of them!”

McDugell’s face went slack as he recognized the voice. He reached up and yanked the mask off the brown squirrel’s head. He choked on his own breath as his brain tried to process what his eyes saw. “R-R-Russell?!?!”

For a moment, it seemed as if the entire world had stopped. How could an A.P.F. officer commit such horrible crimes? Crimes against the city he had sworn to protect? Crimes against the organization he worked with everyday? Crimes against Nature itself?

Always one to take charge, McDugell, barked out, “Quick, hide his face and put him in the car! Get him to headquarters quietly! We’ll sort this out there!” He put the mask back on Russell’s face as the others ushered him out quickly.

Back at A.P.F. headquarters, former officer Russell Longtail sat in one of the chairs inside Interrogation Room #3. On the opposite side of the table sat both Chip and McDugell. The grey squirrel ran his fingers through his headfur and mumbled, “Okay, Chip. He’s here safe and sound. Your job is done now.”

Chip snorted derisively, and then snapped, “If you’re trying to save face, then don’t cut us out. We’re the ones who found him. We’re the ones who cornered him. We’re the ones who risked our lives to deliver him to you unharmed. It’s our case, too.”

The A.P.F. Sergeant grabbed the detective by the shoulder and threatened, “This is an A.P.F. matter! You have no business being in this room! Now leave this to the professionals!”

The chipmunk slowly turned his head to glare at the grey squirrel. Chip’s eyes took on a steely gaze as he responded evenly, “You would prefer the company of a ‘professional’? How about the lead reporter from the Rodent City Times?”

McDugell’s eyes went wide as he contemplated what the chipmunk could do if he were ticked enough. He remembered the fierceness Chip displayed during the ‘Sweet ‘n Sour’ case. He decided that maybe it was better to have him as an ally rather than an enemy.

Russell decided to break the silence by asking, “Well, where’s my lawyer?”

McDugell asked, “You been read your rights, Russell?” Upon seeing the brown squirrel’s nod of acknowledgement, he continued. “Russell, you don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to, but we’re your friends. We’ll help you! Just tell us who made you do this!”

The brown squirrel’s eyes lowered. Chip decided to prod Russell a little. He stated slyly, “Are you a mercenary? You working for someone who wants all those cats dead? Just how much does a cat pelt go for these days?”

Both squirrels growled at the chipmunk’s callous demeanor. Before McDugell could curse out Chip for his lack of tact, Russell blurted out savagely, “I’m not working for anyone! Those cats deserved to die! Every last one of those monsters are gone because I had the guts to stand up to them! Why didn’t you?!”

The officer on duty out in the hallway knocked on the door and opened it. He ushered in the Public Defender and announced, “Gail Greenmeadow, sir.”

Miss Greenmeadow, a stern-faced, young female prairie dog dressed in a smart business suit, marched into the room with an angry expression on her face. She pointed right at the A.P.F. Sergeant and ordered, “You should know better than to interrogate my client without my presence! I declare that anything he’s said up until now to be null and void as evidence in a court of law! Now get out if you don’t want every civil rights activist group on your tail for the next five years!”

McDugell stood up and walked out stiffly. He said over his shoulder, “Good to see you, too, Miss Greenmeadow.”

As Chip got up to follow the grey squirrel out, Miss Greenmeadow called out, her voice dripping with poison, “As a Rescue Ranger, you should be setting a better example than conducting illegal interrogations.”

The chipmunk looked back at her and tugged his fedora. He said, “Ma’am, if it ever comes to the point when no one may speak without your personal permission, then it will become clear that all of our history books were incorrect when they say our side won the Great War.”

Gail had nothing to say to that as the chipmunk swaggered out of the room. She turned to her client and softened her tone. “You don’t have to do anything that swaggering blowhard says. You’ve been read your rights?” Seeing Russell nod his head affirmatively, she said, “All right, if you want me to represent you, then you’ve got to tell me everything. I mean EVERYTHING about this case. Don’t hold back, even if it makes you look bad. I can only help you.”

An hour later, the grey squirrel and leather-clad chipmunk re-entered the room and sat in their previously occupied chairs. Russell was still there, as was Gail. The female prairie dog said stiffly, “Against my advice, my client wishes to confess everything, on one condition.”

McDugell asked professionally, “What is this condition?”

She replied, “He wants to tell his story in its entirety. He wants his history and reasons to count for something in the upcoming trial. He would like for you to agree to enter his entire admission into evidence, not just his recent actions.”

McDugell scratched his chin thoughtfully. This isn’t all that limiting, but do I lose anything from it? Do I gain anything? He looked over at Chip, who nodded back to him. McDugell said, “Agreed. If you need this bargain in writing, then we’ll settle that later. Go ahead, Russell. Tell us your story.”

The brown squirrel sighed deeply and adjusted his position in his chair. He explained, “It started about, oh two to three months ago. I got that raise at work, sir. It was enough to take my girl out on the town for an evening. We went out to eat, then to a movie. Afterwards, I asked her if she wanted to go dancing. Instead, she wanted to try the casino on top of the Happy Tom Cat Food factory.”

McDugell thumped the table in disapproval. “You should have put your foot down. You know who runs that place. You went with me when we tracked down Frankie ‘the Dumbbell’ Palesnout. You could have both been killed.”

Russell replied, “I know, I know! You know I know better, Sarge! But my girl…she’s got these eyes that just melt your heart.”

Chip pulled his hat over his own face, thinking about Gadget. More than once in the past Gadget had used ‘those eyes’ on him, changing his mind harder than a tornado through a wheat field. He banished those thoughts and replaced his hat on his head.

Gail chuckled as she guessed the source of his embarrassment. “Why detective, dare I deduce that you’ve felt the red-hot sting of love in that cold heart of yours?” She was silenced by a glare from McDugell.

The brown squirrel continued, “Well, we played for an hour at the cards and slots. We actually won! Not a lot, but enough to convince us to return. The next weekend, we made a day of it…and the weekend after that…and the weekend after that. Our luck had slowly changed, for the worse. Soon, I had racked up a healthy debt. I don’t even remember when I had to start borrowing from the house.”

Russell seemed to stare at nothing for a moment, and then said, his voice heavy with regret, “Snout approached us. He said he knew I was A.P.F. and that I was heavy into debt. He offered a deal in exchange for a quick boost of cash to pay off the debt in full, maybe a little pocket change leftover.”

He carefully eyed his former commanding officer and admitted, “He said if I’d pass along information to him, Fat Cat would not come after me. He wanted to know everything that went on inside A.P.F. walls. He didn’t want any action, just information.”

The grey squirrel stared at his former officer with contempt. He wanted to punch that young upstart’s lights out and then stalk off, leaving him at the mercy of the court. But he didn’t. He kept his word and stayed silent, waiting for Russell to finish his story.

The former A.P.F. officer continued, “Naturally, I refused, but the idea kept weighing on my mind. If Snout told you about my debt, he could get enough support from city hall to get me fired. I asked if I could work it off somehow. Maybe working tables or running games.”

He sniffled once, and then kept going. “A couple of weeks later, Jenny didn’t come home. Her mom went crazy with worry. I volunteered to go find her. Her m-mom had full con-confidence in me. She said that sh-she’d tell Jenny to marry me if I found her.” Russell took a few deep breaths, steadying his voice.

The other animals dreaded what was coming, but kept their peace. “I didn’t report it, Sarge, ‘cause I knew right where she was. At least I knew who took her. I marched tight up to the casino and demanded her back. Fat Cat was there, waiting like he expected me. He talked to me in private while he sipped imported light cream. He said he wanted me to be his spy in the A.P.F. and to shut my mouth about the offer. I told him where he could go stuff his bottle of fancy cream.”

Sergeant McDugell reversed his opinion of young Longtail. This was no low-life! He was just a young, naïve male who refused to buckle under the weight of guilt. He nodded, encouraging more of the story to be told.

Russell said, “I planned to go right to headquarters to report her kidnapping, but I was just so darned tired. I nearly didn’t make it inside my own apartment before I collapsed from fatigue. Damn me for being a fool! Damn me!”

Gail patted him on the shoulder supportively. Chip asked, feeling his neckfur raise in dread, “What happened?”

The former officer said, tears slowly running down his face, “I opened the door the next morning to go to work. I even had preliminary notes for the paperwork under my arm. I nearly tripped on a plain, brown paper wrapped box at the foot of my door. I opened it up, thinking it was my new book from my reading group. Inside, I found a neatly severed eyeball.”

McDugell’s mouth worked open and shut as if on autopilot. Chip’s resolve broke. He screamed, slamming his hat over and over on the table. “Darn you, Fat Cat! This…this is the lowest of the low for you! I swear by all that the Rangers hold dear that YOU WILL PAY!!!”

Miss Greenmeadow flinched, wondering if the chipmunk was as unhinged as rumor said. McDugell flexed his fingers over and over until the knuckles popped.

The brown squirrel explained, “I went to work, knowing that I was being watched. I got a note slipped into my pocket that day, telling me that for each refusal to cooperate, another piece gets cut off. A week later, I booked a suspect for robbery, but it was Snout. As I led him to this room, he asked me if I had reconsidered. I refused to even answer him.”

He sobbed, and then sniffled again. “Later that day, another box showed up. Inside was her right hand. It still had her special ring on the middle finger. You know the one she got for her graduation from her parents?”

Everyone seemed to get a little heated under the collar at that comment. McDugell privately swore that if he found Fat Cat first, he’d cripple the cat several times first, and then read him his rights.

Russell finished, “It was then that I took that week off of work, sir. Remember I said I was sick? Well, I was sick, with worry over what to do. Should I give Fat Cat the entire city for one person or should I stay silent and watch my love carved up like some predator’s holiday feast?”

McDugell roared, “You should have come to me! We would have gone after Fat Cat together! Damn the courts, we’d break in and rescue her right in front of everyone!”

Chip interrupted, “She wouldn’t be at the casino. Fat Cat’s too smart for that. He’d keep her well out of the way, and then use your break-in to gain special consideration in the courts against more charges you’d bring against him in the future.” This idea sobered the grey squirrel. Was this all Fat Cat’s plan to put a stranglehold on the courts? Would he slowly murder some innocent girl just for political leeway? The more McDugell thought of it, the more he decided that yes, Fat Cat would do just that.

Russell stated, “At the end of the week, I guess Fat Cat got tired of waiting. When I opened the last box, inside was a heart. It was still fresh, ‘cause the blood was still red.”

Miss Greenmeadow involuntarily leaned away and vomited on the floor. McDugell tried to tear out the regulation-length hair from his headfur. Chip adopted the angriest face anyone had ever seen on a chipmunk.

The brown squirrel finished by saying, “It said, ‘Three strikes and you’re out of luck.’ It was written in red pen, but the message was clear. I’m so sorry. I just snapped. I just…gave up. You seemed so powerless to stop Fat Cat that I decided to do it myself.”

The grey squirrel seemed a little confused. He asked, “What do you mean?”

Russell started to gain a small gleam in his eyes as he outlined his plan. “I spent a large chunk of my life savings on a top-of-the-line compound bow from a master craftsman out of state. I told him that I was an archery enthusiast and wanted an edge in a competition. So he has nothing to do with this, understand? Once I had the bow, I needed arrows to shoot it. I’m a fair hand at archery ever since summer camp when I was seven, so I practiced.”

He took a deep breath, seeming to gain confidence with telling his story. “I got good, really good. I could put an arrow through the bull’s-eye of a target thirty human feet away. I knew what I wanted, too. I wanted to kill the cat that carried out Fat Cat’s orders. While I was practicing, I did some investigation. Throwing around drink money in Fat Cat’s casino buys a lot of information. I learned that Fat Cat has a calico cat as a permanent assassin in his organization. He ain’t too young, but that’s all I could get out of those drunks. Seems like a real ghost the way he keeps slipping in and out of places. I figured that once I found him, I’d only get one shot.”

McDugell slapped the table and blurted, “That week you kept showing up tired at work, you were out prowling all night for your prey! I thought you were partying or moonlighting or something!”

The brown squirrel nodded, adding, “Yup. I tell ya, it was maddening. Know how many calico cats there are in the city? Hundreds, I’ll tell you from personal experience. I kept turning down dead-ends left and right until I saw a calico cat playing with its ‘food’. It was a young female mouse, about Jenny’s age. She was begging for her life, but that just made the cat laugh. He began biting off her legs piece by piece, relishing her screams of pain.”

The chipmunk in the fedora asked quietly, “What did you do then?”

The brown squirrel trembled with suppressed rage, but sat lower in his chair. His emotions seemed to drain right out of him as he answered dully, “What did I do? I planted an arrow right into the back of his skull.”

The others watched him for a sign, any sign, maybe a shiver or a smile, something. Neither his face nor his body betrayed any sign of emotion.

He explained, “I thought the cat would drop dead, like in the movies. Instead, he just took off, running like the dickens randomly. I rushed over to try to help the mouse, but she died from the shock of being eaten alive. I remember feeling this sudden weight on my shoulders, like some cosmic scales were out of balance. I needed to set it right. I ran off after that cat, hunting him like he would hunt others.”

Russell scratched his head, and then tilted it to the side. He continued, his voice a tad subdued, “It felt right to show cats all the pain and terror they like to give us. They deserve what they do to others. Do you think there’s any single cat out there that feels sorry for eating us alive? For tearing us apart by pieces? For killing our babies and parents? Our loves? I found that cat, dead by some stress or something. His heart had stopped. Maybe I killed him, maybe I didn’t. But I had to kill all cats, all of them. They deserved it. I hunted every calico cat from then on. I got my vengeance and we became safer with each kill. Don’t you see? The world is better off without those monsters stalking our lives in the night.”

Chip, feeling his stomach try to mimic Miss Greenmeadow’s example, tried to change the subject. He asked, “How did you get the poison?”

Russell fixed his total attention to Chip. He smiled widely, as if a child who just thought of something clever. “Oh, that. After that first cat, I realized how much damage a rodent-sized arrow would do to a large cat. I needed an edge. Once, the Sarge ordered me to courier over some evidence to Dr. Woodridge. I was admitted to the toxicology lab where he was working. I saw such wonderful poisons on the shelves, just for the taking! All I had to do was to reach out and touch them! But not then, you see. If I volunteered for many courier duties, I’d be expected to be seen there. It only took two weeks to find an especially busy day where a few vials of particularly nasty substances would vanish, presumed used up. I raided human hospital in the ‘biological waste’ bins for old-fashioned human needles that were made of steel so they could fly like arrows with just a little bit of reinforcing.”

McDugell felt like throwing up the contents of his own stomach at that point. To think, I practically gave him the idea for the poison, even after I knew he was acting strangely. He cursed himself for his blindness and asked, “What about the kittens?”

Russell felt ashamed, and it showed. He blurted, “I am sorry for that. I knew that my target was not a kitten, but I was just so frustrated. I was so miserable that I couldn’t track one single cat all those nights. All that effort, just to find a few mangy scavengers. I got drunk, really drunk. I think I remember bits and pieces of a dream about sniping kittens for target practice after using an adult-sized dose of poison on each arrow.”

Miss Greenmeadow dropped her pencil stub and rubbed her face, not wanting to hear this awful story from her client. She wished that she could just find a loophole in the system to collect her full pension early and retire to Tahiti.

Chip conjectured, “It was you that was the link to all the crimes. Now we know where all the missing evidence has gone. You volunteered to take it from the scene of each of your discovered crimes and give it to the labs. Only thing is that you either gave false evidence or came back later on a courier run and ‘lost’ it after it’s been catalogued. Am I right?”

The brown squirrel nodded, full of pep. He chirped, “Right! You guessed it, detective! I should have known that I couldn’t fool the Rescue Rangers! Every time I heard about a location that I know I hunted in, I offered to cover that officer’s duty so they could go home. They jumped at the chance since the boss works us like slaves all day. I only messed up random evidence to make it look like the weather or traffic distorted it.”

To everyone’s disgust, he boasted, “In fact, there are two more sites you haven’t found yet! Want to play ‘twenty questions’ to guess where?”

Chip walked back into Ranger Headquarters. Closing the door behind himself, the others looked away from the T.V. to greet him. Gadget’s smile faltered for a second and she asked, “Chip?! What happened to you?”

The chipmunk in question looked roughed up. His hat was dirty and scratched. His jacket was torn on the left sleeve and splattered with mud. Chip himself was out of breath and favored his left foot slightly.

He groaned, “Everybody to the conference room, we have plans to make.”

The others switched off the T.V. The pre-recorded laughter of the human sitcom was cut-off in mid-sentence as the human adopted a silly expression towards the camera, trying to make the studio audience laugh.

Tammy rushed to the supply closet, returning with a few things. The others cleared the kitchen table and sat down patiently. Chip sat at the head of the table, signaling that he had a lot to say. Tammy came in and put a cold compress on Chip’s left foot. She also swabbed a few roughed patches of skin to disinfect them.

Chip winced, but smiled and said, “Thanks, Tammy. All right, everyone. We have our work cut out for us. The case isn’t over yet.”

Foxglove queried, “We caught the bad guy. What else is there to do?”

Dale asked, “We did catch the bad guy, right?” He gasped and asked frantically, “You don’t mean that the guy we caught was really a shape-shifting alien assassin who’s asking for extradition rights from the Galactic Embassy under the Treaty of Stardate 45632.9?”

Everyone else’s eyes boggled at the shift of paradigm. While statistically, it cannot be said to be impossible in light of previous cases, Chip assured everyone, “Not quite as complicated as that, Dale. The squirrel we caught admitted to all the killings, and a couple more. The problem is that he’s clearly insane and blames a feline hitman working for Fat Cat for driving him insane.”

Monty snorted and said derisively, “I knew it had to be a cat’s fault somewhere.”

Tammy snarled, “Let’s get that cat and put him behind bars for the rest of his nine lives! Then we can put that poor squirrel in a mental hospital where he can get the healing that he needs.”

Gadget asked peevishly, “Oh, so now the law doesn’t matter when it’s a squirrel who has killed kittens. I’ll bet if it was a gerbil, then you would throw the gerbil and the cat in prison together, wouldn’t you?”

Tammy yelled, “If we don’t protect that squirrel, then all the cats will hunt and kill every last squirrel in the city, including my little sister! You want that?”

Foxglove started to shed a tear when she cried out, “Stop yelling! That squirrel can’t help himself! The cat made him do it!”

Zipper buzzed a dismissive pattern. He clearly didn’t care about anything except closing this case as soon as possible.

Chip cleared his throat while lowering his voice an octave. The rest of the Rangers quieted and gave their full attention to him. I’ll have to thank McDugell for teaching me that trick. It’s handy. He sat up straight and said, “That’s not our problem any more. Russell is in A.P.F. custody right now. His trial begins tomorrow and is expected to last for days. McDugell is forced to put him on trial. Not only because he actually did the crimes, but because the city’s cat population will tear the city apart by riots if he doesn’t. The cats are protesting in the streets, yelling for Russell’s blood. The rodents are also protesting, claiming that the cats are at fault. It seems that Russell’s story has been leaked to the public.”

Zipper buzzed and pantomimed at Chip. Monty added, “Yeah, Chippah? If that’s bein’ taken’ care of, then what’re we supposed ta do?”

The fedora-clad chipmunk outlined the plan. “Russell’s claiming that a middle-aged, calico, male cat murdered his sweetheart. If we can catch his hitman and get him to testify, then we can prove that Fat Cat was behind it. Not only will that get Fat Cat behind bars, but it will also quell any riots that threaten to take place.”

Gadget asked, “Well, what’s our first step? Where do we look for him?”

Chip scratched his headfur under his hat and admitted, “I really don’t know. I don’t even have a clue. I suppose we could go to the trial and listen to the questions and answers to find a pattern.”

The trial had been closed to most of the public, for obvious security reasons. Early the next morning saw the Rescue Rangers wearing A.P.F. badges on their clothing. They had volunteered as security monitors for the audience during the opening statements of the trial. The animal courthouse was not seated in the best of places. The room was spacious enough, placed in the basement of the old human civic building where the animal pound used to be. The wooden furniture was old and cracked. The plaster on the walls was crumbling in places. After a hundred requests to build a new courthouse in a more modern human building, city council still hadn’t voted on the issue.

The court audience was divided right down the middle by species-group. It was all cats on the right side, behind the prosecution. It was all mice, squirrels, hamsters, and chipmunks on the left, behind the defense. The attitude of the audience during all phases of trial could nicely be considered ‘hostile’.

An elderly grey squirrel presided as judge over the case. He banged his gavel and declared, “This trial has come to order. The case is the city versus Russell Longtail for multiple crimes of ‘Murder Most Unnatural’. Mr. Longtail, how do you plead?”

Russell stood up slowly. He had been shackled hand and foot and well as dressed in an orange jumpsuit. His lawyer, Miss Greenmeadow, answered for him. “Not guilty by reason of insanity, your honor.”

As the pair sat down, the cats in the audience booed loudly. The judge banged his gavel loudly multiple times. He shouted, “QUIET!!! If you cats can’t keep your tempers in check, then I’ll make this a closed trial!”

The felines quieted and the judge called out, “Prosecutor, state your case.”

The prosecution stood up and moved to the center of the court. The Rangers gulped silently as Fat Cat addressed the court. “Your honor, my first statement is a polite objection. Since this is a case that shall set a precedent, we must be very careful to be fair. As the accused is also a squirrel who may be on trial for his life, I request a judge of a different species.”

The judge smirked and said, “Well said, sir. However, I am the only judge for this circuit. If you’d like me to defer this case until we promote another judge to this circuit, I can certainly do that.”

Fat Cat frowned and said, “I didn’t know that. Objection withdrawn.”

The Rangers looked to Chip, who kept his gaze upon Fat Cat in a thoughtful look.

The cat in the expensive purple suit returned to his table and opened his large briefcase, exposing several packets of papers. He read a few quickly, and then closed the briefcase. The rotund feline addressed the court again. “Ladies and gentlebeasts, your honor, my name is Lucius Aloysius Cattus. If you doubt my credentials, you may research my law degree from Princeton University in New Jersey. I do not intend to waste your time. I intend to see justice done. I already have a full confession from Mr. Longtail about his crimes. Since he has already admitted to committing them, the only unresolved question is his sanity. The defense has claimed his mental instability, but I intend to prove that he is sane. Then he must be punished.”

He addressed the audience now. “He MUST be punished! All guilty creatures must be punished when they break the law, else wise why do we have it? He cannot slip by because of the circumstances of his birth. All creatures must be judged equally. If a creature can expect special favor because of his species, then we must segregate all of animal society to ensure justice.”

Rumbles of agreement sounded form the cat side of the audience. Fat Cat continued, “I will quote our own laws that come from our veneration of Nature. ‘Death is reserved for the preservation of life.’ What does this mean? It means that life can only be taken for self-defense or for food. Did Mr. Longtail eat any of the cats he killed? Any of the kittens?”

The audience growled and hissed under their breaths as they held their emotions in check. The prosecutor spoke, “NO! He did not! If he did, then that would also be an unnatural act! Rodents have a specific place in the Food Chain and the Circle of Life. Rodents are demonstrated to be below cats in both! Rodents are a ‘prey’ species and never a ‘predator’ species. This basic fact has been independently verified by both rodent and feline scientists around the world.”

Fat Cat began pacing back and forth, his tail swishing side to side. The effect made his look like a tiger in a cage, a hungry tiger. “The only thing left to prove is self-defense. Was it self defense? NO! The entry points of all the wounds clearly show that he was standing at least a dozen human feet away in every circumstance. Also, the angles of the wounds clearly show that in nearly every shot he took, he shot the back of the skull or ribcage. In the cases where it was not directly behind, then it was off to the side, clearly not in front of the cat in question. In the case of the kittens, he shot them while they were asleep. This has been confirmed by Dr. Woodridge through chemical analysis.”

He stopped and raised his hands to the audience. “What about mental instability? Could he be ‘crazy’ and pull off these…assassinations in such meticulous detail if he were unstable? Stalking his targets through alleys? Targeting sensitive points in the anatomy for maximum effect? Waiting for the right moment? Targeting kittens who clearly have not had enough time in their short lives to even think of doing anything wrong? Using a manufactured compound bow with pulleys and tension lines? Using hollow needles with specially mixed poisons smuggled carefully from hospitals?”

The sounds form the audience graduated to snarling and clicking of exposed claws. Fat Cat finished his speech by saying, “He is NOT insane! The defense must prove insanity, not be granted it! By law, insanity must be proven by a licensed psychotherapist over the course of several face-to-face sessions. This monster was only arrested last night. There is no way to accomplish these sessions all in one night, so he cannot be decided insane. Therefore! Therefore, this squirrel is guilty of capital murder in a most unnatural way. Thank you.”

Thunderous applause sounded as Fat Cat sat down at his bench. The judge banged his gavel several times, demanding order. Several A.P.F. officers walked around the table of the defendant, trying to form a blockade, in the event of a riot.

McDugell ran up to the Rescue Rangers and flat out pleaded with them. “Rangers! You’ve got to stop this circus before it becomes a riot! They’ll drag him out and slaughter him in the street if you let them!”

Gadget eyed the crowd and said, “Golly, McDugell. We’d love to help, but the only thing that can help Russell is the testimony of that calico cat. Where are we going to find him? Do you have any leads?”

Monty edged closer, subconsciously trying to shield Gadget from the cats. He said, “If’n you got any suggestions that are a mite faster than ‘tha whole city’, we’re listenin’.”

Foxglove added, “Even with my echolocation, searching every building could take weeks. This trial will be over in a couple of days at this rate.”

McDugell looked around, not finding something. He counted the Rangers, coming up one short. He looked over and frowned at Chip, who was still looking at Fat Cat. He called over, “Car fifty-four, see any chipmunks?”

Chip nodded to himself, and then walked over to McDugell. He handed over his badge to the grey squirrel and said, “Send for reinforcements, preferably dogs to keep the peace here. Take lots of breaks and extend this trial to finish tomorrow. We’ll get your witness tonight.”

The chipmunk tugged on his fedora smartly and walked out of the courtroom. The blonde mouse’s heart skipped a beat and then she followed him, absently leaving her A.P.F. badge with the grey squirrel.

Dale smiled widely and mentioned, “He has a plan, and by the look of his shoulders, it’s a doozy. It’ll be all-right, McDugell.” He turned over his badge and followed the others.

One by one, the Rangers turned over their badges to a surprised McDugell. He nearly let his jaw swing open freely, but just barely kept enough presence of mind to keep it closed. He called over to one of his officers to run to headquarters and pull all the large animal officers for reinforcements. He also asked the court for a recess to keep order. As the judge was calling for a recess, the grey squirrel tried in vain to imagine what went on in the chipmunk’s mind. As he felt a headache come on, he just shook his head and attended to the court’s business.

The Rangers met in the parking lot outside of the A.P.F. courthouse. Here, patrolled by A.P.F. officers, were the Rangerwing and the Rangerplane. The group gathered between the vehicles and circled around Chip. Tammy grabbed the chipmunk by the shoulder and spun him around.

She demanded, “Okay, mister! You’re gonna tell us why we just left that poor squirrel to hang in there!”

Gadget stepped between her and Chip, breaking Tammy’s grip. “Hey, keep your hands off him! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

Foxglove sniffled, and then asked, “Why aren’t we helping Russell?”

Zipper buzzed for a stop to this arguing.

Dale tried to reason, “Guys, this isn’t getting us anywhere! Stop fightin’!”

Monty demanded, “Let’s bushwack those fleabags whoile we got tha chance!”

Chip whistled loudly for attention. The others stopped and gave him their attention. He said plainly, “We’re going to do all of that, but we need to move fast. Did you see that briefcase of papers on Fat Cat’s desk?”

The others nodded their heads, wanting to know why that was important.

Chip explained, “Since when have we ever seen Fat Cat carry ANYTHING for himself, much less anything heavy? Where are Wart, Snout, Mole, and Mepps?”

The Rangers slowly came to the same realization. Dale stated, “They’re not here! Where are they?”

The ‘munk in the fedora smiled and said, “Exactly, Dale. Where are they? Fat Cat’s too lazy to even walk by himself. He’s got to have them carry him. Why should he carry his own briefcase full of heavy legal papers when he can get the others to do it for him? Because they’re off doing something even more important, like guard duty.”

Monty asked, “Guard duty? What are they guardin’?”

Tammy cried out, “The one thing that can wreck Fat Cat’s plan! The calico cat!”

Chip tipped his hat to the red-haired lady and complimented, “Deduced in record time, Tammy. The feline hitman is up in Fat Cat’s casino or office, all safe and sound where he can’t testify against Fat Cat. I said out loud that we will do this tonight, in case any of the cats were listening for Fat Cat. We have to move now and free him before the trial adjourns for the day. Fat Cat will be back at the office then.”

Gadget interjected, “Chip, what if Fat Cat calls the A.P.F. and complains that we took his employee? I mean he’s a hitman which is kind of like an employee but it’s breaking and entering and we’d be in the wrong and what if Fat Cat presses charges against us and we go to jail and Russell loses the case when there’s perfectly good evidence in his favor and…”

Chip pulled Gadget in for a deep, soulful kiss. After a moment, they pulled away. Gadget’s face was beet red and Chip was short of breath.

Tammy teased, “Well now we know what to do when Gadget’s mouth starts to mimic a perpetual motion machine!” The others laughed loudly as they piled into the aircraft.

In a few minutes, both aircraft approached the cat statue on top of the Happy Tom Cat Food Factory. In the Rangerwing, Gadget looked over to Chip, who was riding in the Rangerplane. Chip gestured right at the cat’s face. Gadget frowned, not liking the suggested plan. The blonde inventor adjusted the controls, pitching the nose of the Rangerwing down to point right at the statue’s face.

Chip tugged on Monty’s collar, pointing at the statue and speaking. Monty, the pilot, nodded his understanding. He roared back to his occupants with glee and declared, “Hang onta yer fur, mates!” In the backseat, Chip and Tammy clung onto the seat for dear life as the Rangerplane cut the throttle and locked the wings in the horizontal position. Monty tipped the nose down and glided right at the grinning cat statue.

The Rangerwing arrived first, switching into hover mode to hold position in the middle of the left ‘eye’ of the statue. The Rangerplane glided downwards, gaining speed with every second. Her eyes widened as she realized what Monty was doing. He was showing off, in HER plane.

Monty came in lower than the ‘eye’, faster than the brain could imagine the vehicle could stop. About five plane-lengths before the nose smashed into the surface of the statue, Monty yanked the control stick back all the way and activated the wings at maximum power. The nose of the Rangerplane tilted up sharply and the body flapped against its forward motion. The lift generated by the wings was more than enough to keep the weight up, so the body lifted. The Rangerplane raised in altitude as it slowed down, coming to a stop right in the dead center of the right ‘eye’.

Gadget glared right at Monty, who smiled widely and shrugged his shoulders innocently. Foxglove and Zipper arrived right behind the vehicles and circled the Rangerplane, waiting for instructions.

In the Rangerwing, Dale looked over to Gadget and asked, “Do you think they’re okay over there?”

Still glaring, Gadget replied icily, “Not when I get through with him.”

Dale decided not to bother Gadget anymore today.

Chip motioned Zipper over. When the brave fly arrived, Chip whispered to him, “Fly in there stealthfully and describe the situation. Look for the calico cat and how to get him out.” Zipper nodded and sped inside, where Fat Cat’s office was situated.

Foxglove flapped over and asked Chip, “What do I do? I want a part.”

Chip replied smoothly, “Stay out of sight and echosound the elevator. I really need to know if and when someone’s coming up the elevator. Reinforcements would kill this plan.” The kindly bat nodded happily and flew over to an ‘eye’. She landed on the upper part of the eye and poked her head into the office. After her echolocation technique found the elevator, she added the sonic vibrations that resonated from inside the metal shaft.

Zipper returned quickly and landed on the back of Monty’s seat. He buzzed and squeaked a long series of statements.

Chip’s eyes widened at this news. Aghast, he questioned, “Seriously? Really? The cat is there in the office, chained to the desk and shaking from illness? What’s he suffering from?”

The steadfast fly pantomimed and squeaked a list of symptoms to Tammy. The red-haired squirrel thought for a moment and declared, “It could be a lot of things, Chip, but my guess is that he’s got at least one malignant tumor near his lungs. This is bad, Chip. That cat needs serious care from a hospital, preferably a surgeon. He may be dying.”

Chip didn’t hear any of that. All he heard was ‘complications in the plan’. He gritted his teeth and tugged his hat down over his eyes. Thinking furiously, he questioned Zipper, “Any guards?”

Zipper buzzed and pantomimed a short list.

Monty offered, “Well, at least we know where Fat Cat’s goons are. We can take care o’ them, but it’ll take toime.”

The fedora-clad detective thought up a desperate plan, thinking, This will never work in a million years. Maybe we should try it. He said, “Ask Gadget if she still has any fogbombs left.”

Zipper flew over to the Rangerwing, relaying the question. Gadget shook her head and responded. Zipper came back to buzz her answer.

Monty agreed, “Roight, mate. Even if she had any, they’d need ta be powered by the on-board systems on the Rangercopter, which is toast. At least she has the tow cables from the ‘copter.”

Suddenly, Dale stood up and waved his hands. He began to mime the action of pulling something from where cuffs on a shirt would be. He then held up two fingers and smiled.

Chip realized what his best friend was planning. He threw up his arms and said, “Okay, okay, okay! We’ll do it! Zipper, guide Dale as he gives us cover. Tammy, get ready to air-lift a patient to the hospital. I’ll transfer to the ‘Wing once we fasten the cables around the cat. Tell Gadget to make ready to tow the aft of the ‘Plane with her grappler for extra lift.”

Zipper sped over to relay the plan to Gadget. She slapped the palms of her paws on her forehead and then shrugged her shoulders. Dale just smiled and chuckled in amusement.

Once everyone had prepared themselves, Chip shouted, “Go!”

Dale picked a pair of cufflinks from his shirt pockets and yelled, “Pistachio!!!” He threw them through the left ‘eye’ of the statue, right near the elevator. BANG! The cufflinks, fragile as designed, ruptured and released their pressurized contents. A thick, roiling miasma filled half of the office. It engulfed the cat, rat, mole, and lizard who were standing guard. Cries of disgust filled the air.

“Eeeeeyyyyyyeewwww!!!!”

“Grossssss!”

“C-c-can’t breathe!”

“Lemmeouttahere!!!”

The sounds of multiple paws banging on the metal doors of the elevator echoed through the room. The sickly cat chained to the desk mumbled, “Whhaaaat?”

Chip grabbed the cables from the Rangerplane and jumped in through the right ‘eye’ of the statue. The pulleys from the Rangerplane’s winch gears resisted a little as the lines fed out, slowing his descent.

As he landed near the cat, Zipper flew right over to the cat. The feeble feline drawled, “Mmmmhhhhhmmmmmwwwwhhhoooo?” Zipper flew into the padlock securing the chain to the desk. After a few seconds, the padlock unfastened. CLICK!

Chip recognized his cue. He wrapped the cables around the cat’s torso, under his arms. Zipper flew up and pointed towards Chip. Dale jumped up into the back of the Rangerwing to grab the controls of the plunger gun.

The red-nosed one aimed the plunger for right next to the leather-clad detective. As Chip tugged on the line, Tammy activated the controls to wind the winch. Monty pulled back on the control stick all the way and raised the throttle slowly. The Rangerplane arched its spine like a fly-fishing rod that had caught a big one.

A loud coughing sound precluded an accusation. A reedy, reptilian voice sounded, “Hey, it’s that chipmunk!”

Fat Cat’s goons had blindly found their way out of the stink cloud with tears pouring from their reddened eyes. Focusing their gaze on chip, they growled in anticipation of a fight.

PLOP! The plunger from the Rangerwing landed right in front of Chip. The desperate chipmunk pulled the suction cup off of the floor and began climbing the rope. Mepps and Snout charged at the same time. Mepps in his haste bounced off Mole, knocking him over. The scraggly cat’s own trajectory was altered into the path of the rat. BONK! The hollow impact of their two skulls knocking together was quite similar to two halves of a coconut bangin’ together.

Wart was a little more careful, however. He leaped and grabbed Chip’s feet with his own scaly paws. Gadget activated the retractor winch for the plunger. The line reeled in for ten inches, and then jammed. Shocked at this complication, her eyes went wide as she exclaimed, “Golly! It’s the ‘nth gear tooth’ scenario all over again!” She switched her flight control to hover and reached under the dashboard.

Dale immediately felt like he should do something, but what? He saw Foxglove look over to him with pure conviction. Foxy’s countin’ on me. Chip’s countin’ on me. What do I do? He checked his pockets for inspiration. Bubblegum, nope. Poke-the-mon trading cards, nope. Yo-yo, too short a string. Spare cufflink…oops! The device slipped out of his grip to fall to the floor of the Rangerwing.

BANG! The Rangerwing filled with a cloud of miasma, causing Dale and Gadget to cough and sputter. Gadget yelled, “Dale! What did I tell you about detonating ordinance in any of my vehicles?!?!”

Dale apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it! I’ll clean it up after we get Chip…off…the plunger.” Inspiration struck him like a Mack truck full of hot dogs.

He grabbed the spare plunger from under the back seat and tried to jam it into the launcher. The tears streaming from his eyes made it difficult. Eventually he shoved it in, hearing the CLICK! He grabbed the controls and swung it downward towards the left ‘eye’ of the statue.

Meanwhile, Chip was not faring well in a contest of strength against Wart. The lizard had tried to climb up Chip to dislodge the Ranger’s hands from the rope. Chip gave up one hand’s grip to shove Wart down the rope. This undid any progress he made in climbing up. Frustrated, he looked up, ready to yell at Dale, only to see his best friend aiming a plunger right at his face!

Tears streamed down the red-nosed chipmunk’s face as he adjusted his aim for the shifting images in front of him. He only had one shot. If he missed, Chip was doomed to fall to his death.

Chip cried out in terror, “No, wait! I thought you were blind!”

Dale replied too calmly, “It’s all right, trust me!”

The plunger aimed for the feet of the lizard, who began to yank on the chipmunk’s ankles, trying to pull him off.

The fedora-clad ‘munk yelled, “A little higher! Just a little higher!”

Dale trusted his instincts, and adjusted his aim. His vision was slowly coming back into focus.

PLOP! The plunger struck Wart right in the kisser! The momentum of the projectile pushed the lousy lizard back into Fat Cat’s office.

Gadget announced, “Yes, got it!” The winch unfroze, and slowly began pulling Chip up, who in turn climbed up the rope. When he got inside, they strapped in their respective seats.

The Rangerplane had pulled the calico cat clear of the statue’s face and began to turn towards the hospital. The blonde inventor piloted the ‘Wing over to the aft end of the ‘Plane and grappled the tail section. Shifting the rotors into overdrive, the extra lift pulled the back end of the dirigible upwards, taking some of the burden off the flapping wings.

Foxglove flapped over to grab the nose of the Rangerplane and pulled with all her might, increasing their speed. Zipper sped to the aft end and pushed with all his muscles. It was a long, slow flight across ten human streets to reach the rooftop of St. Octavia’s Hospital for animals.

At least they no longer had a time limit.

Later, as evening fell, the Rangers huddled around the waiting room outside of the Large Animals Ward of St. Octavia hospital. They drew a few stares from the dogs and cats that worriedly awaited news of their loved ones.

The doors to the surgical ward opened and Dr. Woodridge came out. His white smock was stained with dark red and other fluids of such foul colors that the animals in the room shivered just trying to guess their origins.

He addressed the Rangers, “You brought it the calico male, right?”

Tammy answered, “That’s us. Will he be all right? Did I guess right, doc?”

He nodded glumly, and then answered in a professional voice, devoid of emotion. “Yes, you did guess correctly, Tammy. You’ll make an excellent triage nurse someday if you apply yourself. The patient calls himself Vincent Jolli. Mr. Jolli is suffering from an advanced case of systemic cancer. It’s so widespread that even discussing treatment or surgery is a joke. He should have come in a year ago. By then there would have been at least some hope.”

The Rangers sighed. This case just seemed to uncover more and more suffering.

Dr. Woodridge scratched behind his ears and said, “That’s not all, Rangers.” When they looked at him, their expressions read, ‘What else could there possibly be?’ The rabbit explained, “I think the reason that he never came to see us is because he never suspected he had actual cancer. According to him, before he was put under anesthesia, when he started getting sick and tired, Fat Cat gave him expensive painkiller pills.”

Tammy asked, “Which ones?”

Dr. Woodridge mentioned, “Long-term dosage of oxycodone and acetaminophen. It actually looks manufactured rather than home-mixed, so I surmise that Fat Cat’s been stealing out of some human’s drug store safe. Since it’s a long-term exposure, I wasn’t surprised to find Mr. Jolli’s liver to be half-disintegrated.”

Everyone in the room gasped at this news. A couple of the cats came over, one male and one female. The female asked, “That poor cat from a few hours ago? He’s that badly off?”

When the doctor nodded, the male said, “This is my wife Gloria and I’m Randal Silverwhisker. I knew that cat when we were kittens! You’re saying that he’s been in this city all this time and working for Fat Cat?”

Chip immediately pulled out his notebook and began scribbling notes.

Monty asked, “Ya knew ‘im, mate?”

Randal answered, “Sure! We were living in the suburbs back then. My human’s house was next door to his human’s house. We played together all the time. He was such a gentle kitten.”

Gadget queried, “Well, how did he end up here?”

Randal said, “I don’t know. When we turned a year old, he just disappeared.”

Dale said thoughtfully, “Maybe he was cat-napped!”

Chip responded, “Why don’t we go ask him. Doc, with your permission?”

Inside the private recovery room, Vincent Jolli ruminated about his name. Fat load of good it did me, he thought bitterly. He gazed at his body with regret. He had such a fine physique in his youth. He didn’t even look middle-aged anymore. He looked like an old, scraggly alley cat with more willpower than health. A couple of tubes fed clear substances into his arms. Normally, he would object, but whatever was in those tubes made him feel so much better than what Fat Cat gave him. He could get used to this treatment, for however long it lasted.

One by one, the Rescue Rangers filed into the room. They took up positions standing against the walls or sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Vincent.

The leader, obviously because he was wearing the cool hat, started asking questions. “Mr. Jolli, do you recognize us?”

The cat smiled magnanimously and replied, “Do I? Why, sure I do. You’re that group the boss keeps calling the most horrible names.”

Zipper began buzzing a list of names with distaste.

Vincent said, “Oh those. Those are only the publically acceptable ones that he says when others are present. You should hear the foul language he uses in private.”

Monty, making a supreme effort to not allow his hands to tremble, offered, “Did you know that yer boss is tryin’ to end an innocent squirrel’s life fer his own political power play?”

Surprised, the calico cat responded, “Russell? Trust me, mouse. Officer Longtail is no innocent. He’s been wiping out evidence of violence against predators for a long time. This is just the first time the guilty party was him.”

The Rangers’ eyes widened at this statement. Chip asked, “Can you prove that?”

Mr. Jolli yawned, then said, “Sure, I did my homework. A good assassin always does his homework on a target before he strikes. I even confronted him about his tampering as leverage for him to accept Fat Cat’s offer. He didn’t tell you about that part, did he?”

Foxy shuddered and said, “Why should we believe you? You’re a killer, an assassin!”

Vincent retorted, “So is Officer Longtail. Do you favor him because he’s A.P.F. or because he’s a prey species like you? Does belonging to a certain group make him immune to the law or just his birth?”

Dale rolled up his sleeves and tried to walk forward to striking distance. Monty and Gadget held him back. He growled and snarled as he clenched his fists.

The calico cat laughed, and then offered, “I’ll be happy to explain case by case which evidence he covered up or flushed. Will that save the life of your little friend?”

Chip shook his head. “That’s nice of you to offer, but that’s not why we’re here. We’re here about Fat Cat.”

A quizzical expression graced the features of Vincent as he asked, “Fat Cat? Why are you here about him?” Dr. Woodridge decided that now was as good a time as any to measure the cat’s vital signs.

The detective tugged his fedora and told, “Since the doctor told us about your condition, I think you’ll agree with me when I say that I think you’re dying.” Upon seeing the cat’s unashamed nod of agreement, Chip continued, “You say Officer Longtail was your ‘target’, but you weren’t after his life. You were after his sanity. You drove him over the edge by threatening to expose his dirty secrets and harm his beloved. After he refused to spy for Fat Cat, you went to work and finally broke him. You did this on Fat Cat’s orders.”

Vincent may have been dying, and he may have horrible cancer racking his body, but he didn’t flinch when Chip dropped the subtle accusation. When Chip saw the cat didn’t react, he frowned.

He pressed, “Once the damage was done, you became a liability to Fat Cat. If you told anyone, then Fat Cat would be implicated as well. He waited, sweating the whole time, hoping that Russell would be caught quickly before he came to his senses.”

The calico cat seemed to consider this statement, and then grudgingly admitted, “The boss was really edgy during that time, yes. He made twice the threats and gave twice the bruises. He settled down once he heard the A.P.F. had their squirrel.”

Dale had successfully calmed down by now and asked, “Then why did Fat Cat chain you up in his office?”

Vincent said, “He ordered me into his office, saying I had to guard some critical business papers. No one was to open his desk, NO ONE. After a day of waiting, Wart, Mepps, Snout, and Mole came in. They tried to open the desk, but I stopped them. They suddenly surrounded me and tried to punch me out. I was still sneakier than they were and tripped them up into each other. That’s when Fat Cat came in. He sucker punched me, knocking me out. I think I lost a tooth in the fight. He clamped that metal chain around my neck and ordered me to stay in the office until he got back, or else he wouldn’t ever give me another pill.”

Dr. Woodridge frowned, not liking the recorded vital signs he saw. He asked, “How did you get into taking those pills in the first place?”

Foxglove tenderly asked, “Why did you leave home? We saw your kittenhood friend in the waiting room. He recognized you and thought you were gone for good.”

The calico cat sighed, and then shrugged his shoulders. “I was too adventurous for my own good. I got into a heated argument with my father about what I wanted to do with my life. He wanted me to get adopted by a loving family. I wanted to see the world. I left, trying to make my dream come true. I tried to join the Navy as a human ship’s cat, but the Captain threw me off the ship. He was allergic to cat fur.”

After the cat stopped talking, Gadget asked, “And then?”

Mr. Jolli’s gaze re-focused and he said, “Sorry, my mind wandered down memory lane for a moment. After that, I wandered around from town to town as a stray. It was a tough life. Never having anywhere to sleep, nothing to eat, always being chased by humans. I should have listened to my father. Well, after a nasty fight over some garbage and a dry cardboard box, I was approached by Wart. He said he liked how I fought, really vicious and nasty. He offered me a job as a bouncer at Fat Cat’s casino. Getting paid money and a room to sleep in the basement? You know I signed up.”

After a couple of years, Fat Cat noticed how quickly and decisively I fight off any animals, including dogs twice my size. He said he wanted me to be his bodyguard. He offered to double my pay if I would go anywhere he wanted to attack other animals and their bodyguards. It turns out what he meant was to sneak into places and kill anyone he dictated. This was how he intimidated the owners of the Blue Mountain Candy Company into tainting certain boxes of candies with illegally-modified catnip.”

Chip threw down his notebook and screamed, “I KNEW IT! THAT’S HOW HE DID IT! IT WAS IN THE CANDY!”

The medical rabbit chastised him, “Chip, quiet! This is a hospital!”

The chipmunk picked up his notebook, blushing through his fur. He apologized, “Sorry, different case. Please continue.”

Vincent said, “About a year ago, I started getting these constant pains all over. Just enough to distract me. Fat Cat noticed and I told him. He told me to visit his doctor and not to come back trying to get out of work. He must have gotten hold of the results, ‘cause I never knew them. Just from then on, he gave me those pills each week. He called it ‘company perks’. I never figured that I was getting cancer. He must have been setting me up to take the fall.”

Monty ground his fist into his open palm. “That’s it! That tubby tabby is gonna pay fer what he did to ya! Cat or no cat, you don’ deserve this! Not by a long shot!” Zipper squeaked an affirmative.

Foxglove put her wing on Monty’s shoulder, proudly beaming at him. “I’d say you’re becoming more compassionate every day, Monty.”

The rugged Aussie tugged his lapels and mentioned dismissively, “Jus’ a little bit, luv. Still got a reputation ta think of.”

Dale growled again, this time in frustration. “Man, oh man! Chip, how do we beat Fat Cat now? If he’s willing to kill off his own employees slowly just to get his way on one caper, how can we clear Russell?”

Chip’s eyes hardened as he considered everything he heard today. At length, he said, “We don’t.”

The entire room, save for the calico cat, gasped in astonishment. Tammy blurted, “Chip, how could you? We’re trying to save Officer Longtail!”

The heavy-hearted detective stated, “We’re here for Justice, nothing more. Russell is guilty. We know that from his confession. We can prove that he was driven insane, which will spare his life. Other than that, he deserves punishment for what he did, which was nothing less than murder. However, I think I have a way to punish Fat Cat for everything he did. It would require your help, Mr. Jolli.”

The cat snorted in disgust. He taunted, “Why would I EVER help you with anything? Sure, I hate Fat Cat for what he did to me, but that’s my problem. After I get out of here, I’ll take care of it myself.”

Chip replaced his notebook into his jacket pocket and then steepled his fingers in front of himself. He adopted a crafty look in his eyes and asked, “Mr. Jolli, are those medicines helping you?”

Vincent squinted at the chipmunk, trying to figure out what he was thinking. When he couldn’t do that, he replied, “Just fine. In fact, I feel better than what those pills Fat Cat gave me.”

Chip smiled gently and asked, “What if I could swing a deal with the A.P.F.? Now that we know what role you played, no doubt that the A.P.F. will try to imprison you for your part in this whole affair.”

The cat laughed until he coughed up flecks of blood. Dr. Woodridge rushed over to wipe up the blood and reassure his patient. The cat sputtered, “Fat load of good that will do, detective. It won’t be long enough to even fill out the high-level paperwork if the doc’s right. What can you possibly promise me or threaten me with?”

Chip asked amiably, “How would you like to spend the rest of your sentence in a comfortable setting, surrounded by hospital staff, and access to these wonderful medicines that help you better than Fat Cat’s pills?”

The calico cat’s expression softened into one of serenity. He smiled benevolently at the chipmunk and offered, “If it will let me live out the rest of my short life in this kind of comfort, without either pain or the suffering of those other pills, then I’ll do anything you say, detective.”

The leather-clad chipmunk tugged his fedora and declared, “Then I need you to tell your story to the court. Dr. Woodridge, I’m sure you will agree that it will be ‘now or never’ time tomorrow. Prep him for a morning testimony and come along as his physician. Mr. Vincent Jolli, together you and I are going to teach Fat Cat that crime does not pay!”

The next morning, the courtroom was winding down with the final admission of evidence and closing statements. This means that the prosecution was long-winded and the defense tugged its headfur a lot.

Fat Cat was ‘wrapping up’ his closing statements in usual fashion. Of course, this means he’s giving a grand speech that made the audience thought he was trying to be elected president of the entire country.

“Ladies and gentlecats, I beseech you to listen to my logic! We have the Circle of Life for a reason! Without predators, the prey will eat themselves out of food in a couple of generations! All life will cease on this planet! Shall we allow this to happen? No! We are the caretakers of life and death as natural animals before the eternal gaze of our Sacred Mother. She alone gave us the power to end life at will. We must use it wisely. Even we know better than to abuse the power of Death.”

He tugged on his expensive suit, smoothing his silk tie. “We only kill for food and self-defense. That is Nature’s way. But this…this abomination”, he pointed at Russell, “decided to usurp us for the power of Death! Not only did he kill predators, but he did it out of hatred! Their bodies rot even now as we speak. Our prey, our food, has decided to become the predator! Can we sit back and pray that the Sacred Mother will balance this situation?”

The audience shouted, “NO!!!”

The banging of the judge’s gavel was lost in the cheers of the cats. Fat Cat waved for silence, and then continued, “We can not allow this to occur again! If this one squirrel gets the idea in his head, how many others will risk simple death just to inspire others? This self-destructive and sacrilegious behavior must not be allowed to continue. Either this court will find Russell Longtail guilty of all charges and not insane, or else society must be segregated into two different areas. Predators must have a place where they can raise their kittens in safety as well as be able to hunt for the nourishment that Nature herself has decided we must eat.”

The blood drained from Russell’s face as he whispered heatedly to his lawyer, “He’s talking about putting all prey into concentration camps, like a big pantry!”

Hearing the squirrel’s words, Fat Cat decided to finish with a verbal flourish to leave the audience with something to be remembered forever. “Squirrel, I pose this intellectual question to you. What IF, in the future, somehow your bread and celery suddenly start talking for themselves and proved that they could think? Would you stop eating them? What would you do if they formed a militia and tried to kill every last mouse, rat, squirrel, hamster, and chipmunk in the city? What if they claimed to have some spiritual reason for slaughtering your children? Would you allow your food to rebel against you? Would you allow yourself to be punished for how you were born in Nature? Maybe your small brain cannot fully grasp this question, but this is the very absurdity that all cats face today. Think about someone other than yourself for a while and see if you can answer that question. Thank you, Your Honor. No further evidence.”

The judge wiped the sweat from his brow and drank a full glass of water. The pressure to keep the court civil was getting to him. He tapped his gavel on the pedestal and asked, “Miss Greenmeadow, do you have any further evidence to present?”

With a grim smile, the Prairie Dog announced, “Yes. We have one final witness and then closing statements.”

The doors to the courtroom opened, and Vincent Jolli entered the courtroom while seated in a wheelchair. He was pushed by Dr. Woodridge and flanked by the Rescue Rangers, all wearing A.P.F. badges for the day.

As Vincent’s chair approached the judge’s bench, Fat Cat looked over at the witness casually. What do I care about some random stranger that saw nothing? The only one who could damage my case is…RIGHT THERE?!?! Fat Cat startled, and then fell out of his chair.

As he stood up, the rotund feline screamed, “Objection! This witness is here under duress! They have no right to…to…to kidnap my employee and force him to testify!!!”

Mr. Jolli retorted back cavalierly, “Aw, shuddap you cheap fleabag!”

The entire audience chuckled. The judge asked the calico cat in a very serious manner, “Sir, are you forced to be here? If so, I can order the bailiff to release you and take you home.”

The cat smiled like one who has found ultimate patience. He said, “I’m here because I want to be, Judge. I got a lot to say and it’s all relevant to this case.”

The judge banged his gavel loudly and declared, “Objection overruled. The testimony of the witness will be included until I deem it irrelevant. Sir, state your name for the record, please.”

The cat drew himself up as tall as he could, his bent posture withstanding. He answered, “Mr. Vincent Jolli, sir.”

The judge asked, “What is your profession, Mr. Jolli?”

The cat scratched behind his left ear and replied off-handedly, “Well, officially I’m on the employment records as one of Fat Cat’s bodyguards.”

The elderly grey squirrel said, “Defense, begin your questions.”

Miss Greenmeadow walked up to Mr. Jolli, smiling all the way. She asked, sweetly, “Mr. Jolli, you mentioned your official job. Do you have an unofficial job?”

Fat Cat gritted his teeth tightly and scratched his own face with his claws.

Mr. Jolli grinned and said, “Really though, I’m Fat Cat’s private hitman. He pays me a small salary to appear to be his bodyguard, but he gives big bonuses to me every time I kill whomever he tells me to kill.”

The courtroom went dead silent. The only sound was Fat Cat’s quiet groaning and Vincent’s labored breathing. The entire A.P.F. glared at the cat because of his admission.

Gail asked her next question. “Sir, are you familiar with a brown squirrel by the name of Jennifer Redtuft?”

Vincent replied easily, “Yes, she was the sweetheart of Officer Russell Longtail.”

Gail requested, “How do you know this?”

The calico cat leaned back into his chair, ready to tell a long story. He started by saying, “I studied every aspect of Officer Longtail’s life. It’s necessary in my profession. Normally, I only need to study current activity so I can catch my target unawares, but this was no ordinary assassination. Fat Cat specifically ordered that this one be broken in mind, so absolutely crazy for revenge that he would be capable of anything. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted the squirrel to do, but it was my job to drive him stark raving mad. So, I spied on him and blackmailed him with his dirty secret of destroying evidence against rodents that attack predators. I predicted that he’d refuse the blackmail, so I kidnapped Jenny and carved her alive into pieces, then mailed the pieces to Officer Longtail’s home. It was a risk that he might break too soon, but I knew my target inside and out.”

It was indeed a long day. The defense had a field day asking tons of questions about Fat Cat’s criminal empire. Illegal gambling practices, assassinations, blackmail, smuggling, extortion, and dozens of other horrid crimes. There was even a strange confusion cleared up about missing tags from a pillow factory.

The judge had adjourned to his chambers for an hour after the defense finished their questions and short closing statement. The A.P.F. had called in every last officer on duty and a few who were off-duty but volunteered to be there when the sentence was read.

The judge banged his gavel on the pedestal and sat. The entire courtroom hushed to hear the grey squirrel’s verdict. He began with a simple explanation. “Ladies and gentlebeasts, never in my entire career have I been asked to judge this situation. There are no laws governing this kind of multiple-event sequential crime. So, I’ve had to use what laws I had on hand and my common sense from my education of Nature and the Circle of Life.”

The audience squirmed in their seats. Why did people in power have to talk so much? Why didn’t they just say the answer? Those questions and more plagued the assembled animals’ mind, including the A.P.F.

The judge continued, “What we have here is a squirrel who is accused of multiple murders. He admits to performing the murders, but only under the duress of insanity brought on by a second animal. The second animal freely admits to intentionally causing the duress specifically for this end result. The second animal states he was required to do so by his employer, a third animal. This third animal is accusing the first animal of Acts Against Nature and plans to alter animal society to suit his wishes. Since this case could be debated for years, I’m just going to make three rulings and require City Council to make laws for me to use in the future. I decided to start at the end and work backwards so as not to miss anything important.”

He pulled out a legal paper and read it off. “Russell Longtail, formerly of the A.P.F., is charged with multiple counts of Murder Most Unnatural. Through his own confession, he is clearly guilty. As for his defense of Duress Under Insanity, the defense has not presented any legally recognized psychiatrists to confirm such a condition. Therefore, the court does not recognize Mr. Longtail as being not in control of himself. He is therefore guilty as charged.”

As the gavel banged on the judge’s bench, the assembled cats cheered. The judge silenced them with a glare. He continued, “Since our laws reflect that of the Circle of Life, then there are no punishments of death for any species of animal. Therefore, this court hereby sentences Russell Longtail to Life in prison with no chance of parole.”

The assembled rodents sighed audibly. If Longtail were killed, what precedent would that set for other rodents who defended their families? It would be interesting to see what city council comes up with for laws to govern this mess in the future.

The judge finished, “The reason for the insanity plea being not justified was given to me by Mr. Cattus here. I hereby order that Mr. Longtail be remanded to the psychiatric wing of St. Octavia hospital under the care of Dr. Speck, who shall determine his mental state. If Mr. Longtail does have a mental condition, then Dr. Speck will cure it before Mr. Longtail is moved to serve out the rest of his sentence in the city prison.”

Fat Cat growled audibly, evoking snickers from members of the cat audience.

The grey squirrel set down that paper and picked up the second. “Mr. Vincent Jolli, you have admitted to crimes beyond belief. Not only have you admitted to crimes of similar magnitude to Mr. Longtail here, but more. Do you understand that this court has jurisdiction to pass sentence on you for the crimes you testified to while in this court?”

Vincent coughed, then weakly rasped, “Yes, sir.”

The judge stated, “Vincent Jolli, you have admitted to numerous counts of premeditated murder, stalking, stealing, sabotage, torture, mutilation, and invasion of privacy. You have pleaded guilty as evidenced by your willing testimony in a court of Animal Law. I find you guilty of all charges and sentence you to Life in prison with no chance of parole.”

The audience whispered amongst themselves. Many opinions flew back and forth amongst the various species. No two opinions were exactly the same.

The grey squirrel added, “Considering your current medical condition explained to me by Dr. Woodridge, I don’t think you’d even make it to the maximum security animal prison over the state line. Therefore, unless anyone can think of a reasonable objection, I order that you will serve out the reminder of your life in the maximum security cell at St. Octavia Hospital, which is being converted into a medical room for you. It will be ready this afternoon. You will be under the direct care and responsibility of Dr. Woodridge, who will make you as comfortable as possible until you pass away. May Nature accept you into her fold.”

The cat smiled and mouthed his thanks to the judge.

The squirrel put down the second paper and picked up the third. With great pride, he recited, “Lucius Aloysius Cattus, you are accused of numerous crimes, including illegal gambling practices, hiring assassins, blackmail, smuggling, extortion, and conspiracy to commit multiple murders. It is clear that you are the one who set all of these unnatural events into motion. You will stand trail for all that you have done.”

Fat Cat stood up and cried out, “NO!” He tried to bolt from the room. Every last A.P.F. officer in the courtroom and the entire team of the Rescue Rangers leaped upon Fat Cat, dragging him down to the floor.

He screamed, “NO!!! You can’t do this to me! I’m a cat! You’re just food! Food does NOT rule the eaters! It’s unnatural!” He turned his gaze to the assembled cats in the audience and begged, “You’re predators! Help me!”

The cats turned away from him in disgust. A very familiar-looking female calico cat spat upon him and hissed, “It’s because of you that my babies are dead!!! You made that monster and turned him loose upon us, your own kind! You better pray that those rodents never let you go. Because if I ever get my claws on you, then you’ll see some unnatural acts!”

Fat Cat’s mind was spinning. All of his plans, all of his power, all of his life were draining away before his very eyes. His vision blurred his tears as he heard the rock-steady voice of McDugell, reading him his rights. “Lucius Aloysius Cattus, you are hereby placed under arrest for the crimes read in this court. You have the Right of Nourishment as dictated by Nature. You have the Right of Shelter. You have the Right of Representation. You may represent yourself, hire a lawyer of your choosing, or have a court-appointed attorney. Finally, you have the Right of Silence. If you choose not to answer a question, you must invoke this right for every question you choose to refuse.”

Two weeks later, the Rangers were found in the kitchen savoring a late breakfast feast made by Monterey Jack. The table was brimming with eggless French toast, waffles, syrup, pancakes, hash browns, and orange juice to spare. All of the Rangers ate until they were ready to burst.

A familiar, rapid knocking echoed from the front door. Seeing Gadget begin to get annoyed at the sound, Dale jumped up and ran to the door. Yanking it open, he greeted, “Hiya, Carl! Got anything for me from Jupiter today?”

The cheeky woodpecker winked and replied, “Nope, mail’s been slow from those parts. Got your magazine subscription from Saturn’s moons, though. Oh and this letter from the A.P.F. Sign here, please.”

Dale borrowed the pencil stub and signed the form. After returning the stub and closing the door, he opened the letter. He walked into the kitchen and said, “Hey everybody, it’s from McDugell! He says this is a sneak preview of the news story from city council that will be in the evening paper!”

Gadget took the letter from Dale and paraphrased for the group. “City council has actually gotten off their, ahem, ‘posteriors’ and passed some clear, concise laws concerning capital murder and conspiracy to commit the same. Guilty parties will have a choice between swallowing a lethal dose of poison or being fed to predators from the zoo. Allowances will be made for the writing of a hasty will, a final letter to family and friends, and final counseling. If a natural predator is found guilty of capital murder, then they may choose the poison or are fed to large reptiles, such as crocodiles.”

Monty wiped his moustache on his jacket sleeve and asked, “Anythin’ about ol’ Fat Stuff in there, luv?”

Tammy leaned over Gadget’s shoulder and recited, “Fat Cat has been found guilty by the new system. The new system has a jury of twelve animals to decide guilt or innocence in a crime listed in the new ‘capital’ bracket of crime. The jury will always be six predators and six prey. They will use common sense and the Circle of Life to make their decisions.”

Foxglove rubbed her wings together and mumbled, “It still sounds so cruel. Why does everything have to be so much about Life and Death? Why can’t we all just find something to eat that doesn’t talk back?”

Zipper chastised the kindly bat with numerous squeaks, buzzes, and pantomimes.

She threw her wings over her face in shame and wailed, “I know, I know! I know I eat insects, but I can’t help it! I just do it automatically!”

The noble fly crossed his arms over his chest and buzzed in satisfaction.

Chip smothered a burp with his hand and agreed, “Zipper’s right. This is the way that Nature intended. It would accomplish nothing by accusing each other of anything. We’ll just have to make room for all of us.”

Gadget hugged her favorite chipmunk tightly and stated factually, “The Circle of Life and Death isn’t just some observation, it actually is the state of equilibrium for a closed ecosystem of organic creatures. We need to eat other living things to prolong our own life. If we didn’t have this natural regulation, then one by one, all of the species would die out, causing all the others to follow. As the food source of one falls, so fall the ones who eat them, then the ones who eat them.”

She paused, and then thoughtfully said, “It’s cruel, but it works both ways. We eat plants, then cats eat us, then the plants eat the cats when they die. This way, everything continues anew.”

Tammy slurped her juice, and then offered, “But when animals step out of line and cause a waste of Life, we step in, right?”

The Rangers exclaimed, “Right!”

That evening, the throne room of the Siamese Cats received the evening newspaper. The Twins eagerly awaited the news from city council. Hopefully, their planted agents would disrupt proceedings enough to cause a breakdown of proceedings. They could not suffer upstart rodents stopping them from taking over Fat Cat’s territory.

A young Shar Pei dog, wearing a red sash around his waist, came in carrying a reading stand and the evening paper. He set up the stand between the two cats and placed the paper in its unfolded position upon its front face. He bowed respectfully and then left the throne room.

The twins read the front page of the paper slowly. Each pair of eyes followed every word exactly at the same pace throughout the whole paper. Many would find this unnerving. The surviving servants told newcomers not to mention such a thing in the presence of the Twins.

The faces on the Siamese Cats went from neutral to frowns quickly. “I-it seems-s that ou-our agents-s d-did not disrupt-upt those foo-fools in the city-ty c-council. Now-w th-those rodents-ts will c-cease to fear-r us l-like they should-d. W-we must resort-rt to dr-drastic measures-s to s-seize power-er.”

That night, the Siamese Twins did not sleep. They stayed up all night, speaking to each other in their weird, echoing, sing-song voices. By the rising of the sun, their plan was complete, and they were ready to begin. Snow began to fall from the sky in thick sheets. Thick, grey clouds covered the sky and shed their loads all over the entire county. The city braced itself for a long, cold winter.

THE END