by Douglas Cobb
"I'm glad you asked that, old bean!" I said. "I've thought of everything, the way a true leader should behave. I'm always at least one move ahead of my foes, sometimes two, or even eleventy-seven. You see those three animals in the next door neighbor's yard over there?" I asked him.
"The ostrich, and the mother and daughter Kodiak bears?" Scruffy said. "Yes, I see them. So?"
"Humans think they see things the way they really are, but their minds are easily tricked, or clouded. If a human saw them, he or she would believe the animals were an English Bulldog and two Basenjis."
"No! You're pulling my leg!" Scruffy said, and hiked his leg to put out a fire only his eyes could see. "That was a close call! It's a good thing I stopped that brush fire from spreading further!"
"Yes, well...." I said. "Those are your newest recruits, Scruffy! Just go over there and introduce yourself, tell them about PAWS and our ongoing war against e-vil and SNURFLES, and before you know it, you'll be a crime-fighting hero, like me!"
"Can I still double as a firefighter?"
"I guess, if you happen to see any; but, your main duties will be to always Be Vigilant, and inform people of the dangers of strangers, and try to stop crime before it happens--or as it's happening--and, of course, with your elephant feet, stomp out SNURFLES wherever you see them! And, use your special gift to dampen a certain scarlet bird's feathers and ground him permanently!" I said.
And then, I explained to him all about my history with the notorious feathered fiend, the foul fink Frankie, and gave him a description in case he ever saw him. I spent some time filling him in on PAWS and what it takes to be a leader, and then we strolled over to the fence separating Celeste's grandparents' house from the neighbors', and got down to the business of introductions with the animals there who would soon become Scruffy's new dawgs, Tito Jermaine Larson, Ursa Minor Larson and her mother, Ursa Major Larson.
"Gather 'round, gather 'round!" I told the assembled group. "You probably know this fine specimen of an elephant already, but I've just made Scruffy the head of the Paris branch of PAWS, an organization dedicated to serving and protecting the world, and to fighting crime and kicking the butts of any members of the criminal organization known as SNURFLES that we happen to come across! How would you like to become the newest agents of Paris PAWS? Just say the word to the Scruff-ster here, and with his approval, you'll become elite crime-fighting heroes just like us!"
"What do ya mean, we'd work for the Pee Squirter, the Rose Waterer, the self-proclaimed Superintendent of the Fire Fighters Union?" Tito asked.
"That's Chief, not Superintendent, but I've put all that behind me," Scruffy said, taking charge of the situation like a true leader.
"Since when, 'Chief'?" Tito asked; then, he turned to his friends, and said, "What do you all think, should we tell these Bozos to beat it?"
"Tito Jermaine Larson, you apologize to these kind folk!" Ursa Major growled, offended by Tito's rudeness. "It'd be something to do, anyway, and maybe they're on the level. I say, let's give
it a shot! I always thought spies and secret agents were so glamorous!"
"But Ursa Major--" Tito began.
"You better be nice to my mom!" Ursa Minor roared, rising to the defense of her mother, literally, by standing on her back paws menacingly.
"Well, we could do it on a, watchya call it, 'trial basis,' yah?" Tito suggested, knowing when he was beaten. "I likes to release my pent-up aggressions, get a little physical, ya know? Crack some heads, bite a leg here and there, get my brass knuckles and Ka-Pow, Ka-Pow Boom goes the Dynamite! Yah, I've always wanted to be called The Enforcer, yo!"
"That sounds like a lot of fun!" Ursa Major and Minor said simultaneously.
"No, no, you've got it all wrong!" I appreciated their rather intense newly found enthusiasm, but I had to set them straight. "We are crime fighters, not criminals, you see--we might sometimes get somewhat physical in our attempts to stop crime (and SNURFLES), but we don't go all Mortal Kombat on people, and start bashing them with brass knuckles!"
"Oh, no?" Tito asked. "Then how about baseball bats?”
"Yeah, baseball bats!" Scruffy agreed. "We could become Big League sluggers, just like Anderson Cooper who Cooperstown is named after, or Rosie O'Donnell!"
"That is just wrong on so many levels, Scruffy!" I said. "Anderson Cooper is a news anchorman, not a Big League slugger! Rosie O'Donnell played a baseball player in the movie, A League of Their Own, but she is, in reality, an actress! Also, using baseball bats in any way, shape, or form, except for recreational reasons after your crime-fighting duties are done for the day, is a definite no-no! Must I get a rolled-up newspaper and swat a couple of noses?"
"All right, I can pe-ruse the Sports Section, then!" Tito said. Dat's a great idea! And after dat, we can choose up sides, and get in nine innings!"
"If Rosie O'Donnell isn't available, can I get Tom Hanks to play for my side?" Scruffy asked.
"For the last time, we're not going to play baseball!" I shouted, trying to get through to these potential PAWS recruits and hold their wandering attentions long enough to make them understand the importance of their new roles as agents and crime-fighters. "We need to get on the same page, and get our priorities straight here!"
"Page?" Ursa Minor asked. "Does this mean we have to read a book and get tested over it?"
"Lily's just saying we need to have straight as opposed to crooked priorities," Scruffy said. I was proud of him, until he then added: "What are 'priorities'?"
"There are no books involved--though, there are some handy pamphlets that you'll find it useful to refer to as agents in PAWS. But, don't worry about that for now.... 'Priorities' are the things that are the most important, in their order of importance.
"Let me make it perfectly clear that we are not going to play baseball!" I said. "Also, Tom Hanks is an actor, who also was in A League of Their Own, like Rosie O'Donnell. Even if either one weren't actors, and were professional baseball players, it is highly unlikely that they would want to participate in a baseball game in Paris, Arkansas!"
"'Highly unlikely,' you say--so, there still is a chance?" Tito asked.
"No, there is not a 'chance'! And besides, like I said, baseball has nothing to do with what PAWS is all about--we fight crime, not catch flies!"
"No, of course we wouldn't catch flies, my dear!" Ursa Major agreed. "That's what frogs and toads do, well, and lizards, I suppose--I don't know why they like to eat those nasty things--but it's not respectable fare for Kodiak bears!"
"At last we're getting somewhere," I said, trying to ignore Ursa Major's misinterpretation of what I meant by "flies." I decided to continue on, as if the assembled group knew exactly what I was talking about.
"So," I went on, "as I was telling your new leader, Scruffy--"
"Yeah, about that--" Tito interrupted, "we didn't hold an election, so how is he our 'leader'?"
"Well, I am authorized to organize new branches of PAWS, and to choose the leaders--they aren't elected. As I was saying--"
"That doesn't seem very democratic!" Ursa Minor chimed in. "Don't we live in a democracy?"
"Yes, but we can still live in a democracy and yet have some leaders appointed, like the Supreme Court Justices. Anyway, you need to be on the lookout for a very evil scarlet Macaw, who goes by the name 'Frankie," though I refer to him sometimes as simply 'The Scarlet One.' This is no bird-brain, but a criminal mastermind, and he should be considered a Number One threat, as should any scarlet-colored SNURFLES (or those of any other color).
"You should, of course, be also vigilant in preventing any other sorts of crimes, and checking out suspicious activities, like when letters mysteriously fall through slots in your doors, or when strangers in tight pants ride bikes in front of the house, or so-called 'salesmen' come to your door. Nine times out of ten, they're up to no good!" I said.
"What about the tenth time?" Tito asked. Does that mean that only every tenth person or animal we see is not a criminal, but all of the
others are? Does this formula always follow a numerical pattern? Can we get Charlie Sheen to pitch for us?"
"I was merely using the phrase 'nine times out of ten' as a reference, and didn't mean to be taken quite as literally as you are taking it. Also, again, though Charlie Sheen played the pitcher 'Wild Thing' in the movie Major League, he is an actor, and not an actual Major League baseball player, and we are not about to play basebll, so get your minds off of that topic!" I said.
"That's kinda hard to do when you keep bringing it up," Ursa Minor said.
"Lily-Bear!" Celeste yelled for me. "It's time to go now!"
So I bid my goodbyes to the new members of the Paris chapter of PAWS, honored to have served as the doctor at its birth. Who knows? With time, it might become almost as famous as--oh, whom am I trying to kid? It might become a fantastic crime-fighting organization, but there's only one original PAWS, and baby, it'll always be the best!
Chapter Ten
Trojan Pandas and Parrot Worms
Celeste was off for four days for the Thanksgiving Holidays, and though Thursday was over, Black Friday (one of the happiest days of the year) had just begun, and the Christmas shopping season had officially opened! Triple Q, Celeste, and Clare had already began shopping earlier, making various purchases online, but they made sure to get up early on Black Friday to get in on "Early Bird Specials" at the local stores.
Personally, I didn't care for crowds all that much, so I preferred, in general, to shop online. And, I saw several "Early Bird Specials" there, too. But, most of them seemed to be--for lack of a better expression--"just not right." The upper left-hand corners of the web page circulars had the icon of a bird, and not just any bird, but--you guessed it--a scarlet Macaw.
Nuts and peaches may grow on trees, but coincidences don't. I don't believe in coincidences, though Sasquatches and Leprechauns are both real--I know, because I've personally seen them. Hmmm...nuts and peaches...my belly was rumbling, and the thought of food made me realize it was way past my usual breakfast time. I loved the walnuts Celeste's Gran cooked in Worcestershire sauce, and a bowl of peach cobbler would also hit the spot about now.
After I raided the refrigerator and chowed down, I managed to get my temporarily derailed train of though back on track. I clicked on page after page of sales, and each one had the same image of a scarlet Macaw on it. I had the feeling that all of these pictures of Frankie, or a bird that resembled him to the letter, meant that the ads had been manipulated by SNURFLES. The ads had gone out to millions of households across America and perhaps the world. They could spell economic doom and a disastrous Christmas shopping season, and I couldn't let that happen! I had my heart set on getting a new sweater and scarf for Christmas, and I wasn't going to let SNURFLES stand in the way of my desire to accesorize.
My theory was that Frankie had created a new kind of computer worm, a "Parrot Worm," and he had used it to also transport Trojan Pandas to countless computers--red pandas, that is--and people who clicked on the spectacular bargains on the pages were getting more than they...um....bargained for. With their computers infiltrated by the Trojan Pandas and Parrot Worms, masquerading as innocent ads promising great holiday deals, SNURFLES could gain access to the private information of millions, if not billions, of people, including their bank accounts and credit card numbers.
SNURFLES, if not stopped, might succeed where the Grinch failed, in stealing Christmas.
One thing they hadn't counted on, though, was me, me and PAWS. If I was to foil their plans this time, it would take the combined efforts of every member of PAWS. I put aside ideas for shopping for bargains--saving the world's economy and stopping SNURFLES was my priority now. I roared angrily, but filled with a strong sense of purpose, and exited the back of the house via a "doggy door" which Triple Q had thoughtfully installed a couple of days ago at my mental insistence.
"Screeeeeech!" I called my defiance to the heavens, my battle cry echoing for miles, as I soared off into the sky. My comrades rode on my back, as I went by their houses and picked them up one-by-one, and I went over with them the news I'd surmised about SNURFLES' latest plan to gain world domination.
I flew low to avoid the radar and we were soon at PAWS' underground computer-filled sanctuary, accessed through a hidden passage in a secret cavern. We entered into the cavern, and walked past impressive stalactites and stalagmites that resembled pipe organs, animals, and objects. A button disguised to appear like a bit a lichen, when pressed, caused a solid limestone door to slide open, and we were inside.
"Lucy and Fonzie, you each take a computer terminal and try to trace the ISPs that SNURFLES is using, and see if we can take over their Parrot Worm and Trojan Panda and use them against SNURFLES, to hack into their computers.
"Fuzzy Wally MacGee, you come with me! We will attack this from a whole different angle, Fuzzman; and, if we all work together, maybe we can foil their plans!" I said, and I and Fuzzy went into the adjoining room while Lucy and Alphonse typed away.
"You see before you, my dear Rhino, nothing but the elements of SNURFLES' downfall!" I said. "Ha, ha, ha ha ha ha, hardie, har, har!" I laughed ominously.
"But, Lily," Fuzzy Wally MacGee said, "all I see are old newspapers, gloppy paste, paint, pieces of wood, chicken wire, four wheels over in the corner--just the kinds of supplies someone might use to make a Mardi Gras float."
I looked at Fuzzy Wally MacGee rather sharply. "Just what do you know about Mardi Gras floats?" I asked him, somewhat alarmed that he'd come close to guessing my intentions.
"I had a life before I met you, ya know," he said. "I used to live in New Orleans, before Hurricane K blew through, and we pulled up stakes and moved to Centralia. It wasn't a pretty sight, yo, buildings under water, poor lost animals wandering the streets, some floatin' by on whatever junk they could find to climb on...."
"You never told me, Fuzzy!" I said, actually stunned at his words. I felt some strange liquid attempting to squeeze out from my right eye, something oddly water-like--nah, it couldn't be, I thought to myself--I probably just got something in my eye...still, what Fuzzy said touched me.
"Yeah, well-it's not somethin' I like to talk about much. It brings back too many painful memories."
"Well, let's get to work, Fuzz-ster!" I said. "First, we'll build the frame--"
We soon had a rough but easily recognizable form rigged up and secured on a wagon we rigged up. The wheels were pretty large, but that was necessary for the plan to work.
Underneath the wagon was a trap door, so the wheels had to be fairly big, to allow the door to open. Then, we got to the fun part, slapping gooey, gloppy paper mache onto the frame, and molding it into a perfect likeness of a--red panda.
This, after it dried and we painted it, would be our ticket into SNURFLES HQ! It would be my special gift to Frankie, General Yao Xing--who had escaped from the zoo, his memories having returned-- and the rest of SNURFLES, our Trojan Panda. It seemed to me to be a fitting payback for their corrupting the files of PCs around the country and the world with their Trojan Panda program.
We worked feverishly for hours, Fuzzy and myself assembling and painting the Trojan Red Panda and Alphonse and Lucy developing a program to over-ride and take over the Trojan Panda and Parrot Worm. Their program worked beautifully--the ads were still on the pages, but now, the money that was being routed into the SNURFLES' accounts was re-routed into PAWS' accounts. Of course, we would make sure everybody got their money returned to them, eventually....
Fonz and Lucy managed to locate the address of where the Trojan Panda and Parrot Worm originated, a warehouse leased to Scarlet O'Hair-a's Delivery Service! Things were all coming together! Now, if SNURFLES accepted our "gift" to them, I found myself thinking, we might be able to wipe them out within a few short hours! I might even get a medal for this--and, of course, the rest of PAWS might, as well. I was feeling almost giddy!
I made sure that Lucy, Alphonse, and Fuzzy were safely inside the Trojan Red Panda, and flew it to the loading
dock of Scarlet O'Hair'a's Delivery Service. Then, I crawled through the trap door and we waited. The note I'd fastened to the chest of the Trojan Red Panda explained that it was "a gift from an over-seas friend."
Within fifteen minutes, someone had noticed the Trojan Red Panda. We heard a voice ask to no one in particular: "What's all this, then?"
"Come on out here, Joe!" the uniformed man shouted to someone inside, apparently named "Joe." "There's a float next to the warehouse with a note attached to it!"
"Alright, alright, Sam! What is it this time? Have you been seeing little green men again?" Joe shouted back, sounding irritable.
"Hmm...it's a float, that's for certain," Joe continued, "and there is a note attached, but what is it a float of, and why is it here?"
"It looks like some sort of reddish arboreal creature," the first man, Sam, said. "One with largish, buggy eyes. Maybe he's got a bad sunburn and a case of the pinkeye!"
"No, Sam, you simpleton!" Joe said. "He's obviously supposed to be red, as it represents the color his fur is supposed to be, and I'd guess he has big eyes because he's a nocturnal animal! Perhaps he's a Madagascarian lemur, or a previously unknown species of Hungarian 'possum, or an Australian tree wallaby! For sure, it's got to be one of those!"
Sam was reading the note, whereupon he said: "You're close, but no cigar, I'm afraid, Joe! This here note says that the float is a red panda, and it's a gift from an overseas friend!"
"Hmmm...I would never have guessed that, not in a million years!" Joe said. "The eyes are spaced too close together, and the snout fur isn't quite the right shade. And, look at the left ear--it's too droopy! Maybe it's supposed to be a red dingo--that would be considered to be 'overseas,' wouldn't it?"
"Yes, but the fact remains, that the note contradicts your astute observational skills. Perhaps whomever built it didn't have your keen insights into animal anatomy!"
"Well, the question remains, what shall we do with it, Sam? Perhaps burn it in the incinerator, or crush it in the trash compactor?"