fandomtownies | The Dark Mean Underbelly of the Streets of Fandom, Just Past Sunset, Saturday

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The Dark Mean Underbelly of the Streets of Fandom, Just Past Sunset, Saturday

"I don't know, little buddy," Sam frowned as he drew his gun. "This town looks pleasant enough, but when the sun goes down, the seedy underbelly comes out to cause mayhem."

"Oooh! I like seedy underbellies," Max said. "Poppy seeds?"

"Occasionally watermelons," Sam said. "You get past that husk, and there are seeds everywhere."

"I don't think it matters what kind of underbellies they are," Max mused. "So long as they're ours."

"Want to fine some unsuspecting citizens?" Sam asked.

"Don't I always?"

(OOC: Co-written with

maxnotsam, natch. Sam and Max would like to arrest you on completely trumped-up charges, or fine you for horrendous ones they just made up. Don't worry, they never really manage to arrest people, generally because the citizens go "No, I'm not under arrest. This is stupid." Who wants to be crazied at?)

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The only thing Harper was really guilty of was a crime of fashion. She had a big foam strawberry hat to go with her strawberry-print sun dress. Oddly enough, she'd gone for a double-scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough at Chilly Boulder.

She was more or less minding her own business as she ate her ice cream, not yet ready to go back to the cabins.

"OOOH!!! OOOH!! Mine! Mine! Mine!"

Max bounced happily at Harper's feet, grabbing at her ice cream cone. You could tell he wasn't really serious about wanting it by the way her hand was still attached at the wrist.

"Hey!" yelled Harper, stopping short and holding her ice cream cone out of reach. "That's not very nice! And it's mine. You should go get one of your own."

"Be careful, or he'll bite your arm off," Sam said cheerfully. "Anyway, most restaurants have taken out restraining orders on Max."

Restraining orders didn't generally stop them, either, but that didn't make it less true.

"Entirely unrelated to the arm-biting!" Max insisted cheerfully. "Now, give me the ice cream, or I'll be forced to prosecute you to the full extent of the law!"

The prospect of getting her arm bitten off was not pleasant at all, but it had been a hot day. Harper was not willing to part with her ice cream under such circumstances.

"Prosecute me for what? I'm not doing anything wrong," she said. "I'm perfectly within my rights to walk around with ice cream."

"Not according to Rule 16, subsection C of the Ice Cream Act," Sam intoned. "Which clearly states that walking with ice cream must be done only in designated Ice Cream Lanes. As freelance officers of the law it falls to us to act. You are under arrest!"

Maybe if he said it dramatically enough, one day, someone would believe him.

"Annnnnnnnnd we're going to have to confiscate that as evidence," Max added, jumping to grab at the ice cream again.

"I don't believe you," said Harper, frowning. "I've never heard of this so-called Ice Cream Act."

"It's right there on the books," Sam insisted. "It was part of the Dairy Laws that were passed six years ago. There was an amendment to include frozen yogurt, but that failed in subcommittee."

"Don't I at least get to make a call to my lawyer? I have rights," said Harper. She was almost about ready to finish stalling. Another minute and she and her ice cream would be running away in the opposite direction.

Max started chuckling. "Lawyer... Rights... What country do you think this IS?!?! You're under arrest, Missy!"

He pulled out his gun and aimed it at her head.

"Now, Max," Sam sighed. "We've talked about this. What have we said about going for the head shot first?"

"No head shots? How about no gun shots, period?" pleaded Harper. "Here, you can have the ice cream! I wasn't very hungry anyway. Guns always make me lose my appetite."

"YAAAAAAY!!! Gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme!!!"

In his excitement, Max fired a few bullets at the ice cream cone.

Which was effective, sort of, because Harper tossed the cone up and the air and ran away screaming. "AIE! I'm too young to die!" she yelped as she ran. It remained to be seen if she could run away fast enough.

There was a shadowy figure near a warehouse.

James was out for a bit of a stroll, all nervous energy. He felt on edge for some reason; probably being crammed into the cabins like cordwood after having a spacious room--half of a room--to himself.

The fact that he happened to walk mostly in shadows was force of habit, as was his dark clothing. Totally Law Abiding Citizen right here...almost running into the constabulary. He cursed quietly.

Maybe they didn't notice?

"Cease and desist, lawbreaker!" Sam announced, pulling out his gun and pointing at the shadow he'd seen down the street.

Sure, he didn't know if it was a lawbreaker, but when had that ever stopped him?

That...thing had that other thing that both his Fandom Sibling and the redhead had; he froze, mentally trying to blend in to the shadows. He looked around, head still, eyes roving for a place to hide or something to climb.

"No, don't cease and desist!" Max chimed in. "That way, we can use deadly force!!!" He aimed his gun wildly, so that it only vaguely pointed at the kid in the shadows.

Silently, smoothly, Jimmy picked up a stone from the ground, and flung it in a direction that was neither Jimmy-ward nor constable-ward.

It should work, else Squire James was in for a merry chase through the city.

[sorry, stormfront is making internets wonky]

"I believe that counts as an opening salvo," Sam said cheerily. Now was a good time to open fire.

He was aiming Jimmy-ward. Luckily, for Jimmy, Sam had horrible aim. To the point that he was far safer than if Sam had been aiming at something else.

Oh, look. That shadow? Gone.

Heart pumping certainly loud enough to hear, Jimmy tore down the street to an alley like the hounds of hell were chasing him.

It's likely young James would be around the corner and possibly up on a roof before most people could catch him. Most people.

It had been years since Jack had been almost arrested! It was downright criminal that it hadn't happened in recent times.

Not that he was doing anything illegal as he came out of the radio, of course.

At least, not yet. This was Captain Jack Sparrow.

It was, of course, entirely coincidental that Max was tying a Jolly Roger to a lamppost whilst singing pirate shanties.

...Actually, it really was. He just liked to do that from time to time.

"Arrrrrrrr," he growled, pointing his gun in Jack's direction. "Avast, ye matey! Who goes thar?"

Finally, someone who knew the proper greetings! "It's Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" he replied, doffing his cap and bowing. "That's a lovely flag."

"I've been telling him it's strange for freelance police operatives to be pirates," Sam said. "But there's no reasoning with Max when he's like this. Or on Tuesdays."

"All Tuesdays, or just every other?" Jack asked thoughtfully.

"Any day, really!" Max added. "I never miss a chance to be unreasonable!"

"Me either!" Jack said, grinning and not finding it the least strange that he was talking to a dog and a bunny.

Jack drank a lot.

"You two should get on like a house on fire," Sam smiled. "Be careful about that. Max isn't supposed to burn down houses any more."

"Even if he checks to see if there's no one inside?" Jack looked sympathetic. "Tough break, matey."

"I know, right?" Max agreed. "It's not like they were IMPORTANT houses, either!"

"Leave it to Congress to have unreasonable expectations," Sam sighed.

At least they weren't chasing Max with pitchforks at the moment. Or rather, if they were, they hadn't managed to find him yet.

"So what brings you out to the dark underbelly of seeds at this time of night?"

"I was out of rum," Jack said. "My squirrels drank it all."

Max sighed. "Here we are, cleaning up the street trash, and THIS guy is hiding a pack of Mongolian Trained Drinking Squirrels!!! I tell ya, Sam, life's just not fair!"

"They were trained in the Philippines, mate," Jack lied immediately.

"We were almost sacrificed to a volcano god there," Sam shared. "We missed the trained drinking squirrels. We did make a quack doctor spontaneously combust."

As much as you could make someone do that. They still liked to take credit.

Jack let out a low whistle. "Never managed that," he admitted. "Impersonated a member of the Church of England, though."

Which wasn't the same thing.

"Oh, we do that all the time," Max told him. "There's this bar in Santo Domingo where vicars get free peanuts."

Possibly. Max was a little fuzzy on the details.

"Max is one of the harbingers of the apocalypse," Sam added proudly.

This could not be much of a surprise, to anyone who had met Max.

"Does that come with a reward of some kind?" Jack asked.

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The Dark Mean Underbelly of the Streets of Fandom, Just Past Sunset, Saturday

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