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Someone Stole Sandor's Shoes!


Arminius H O Fiddywinks

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For the first time, Solomon felt the determination to speak up.

"I'm guessing these shoes mean a lot to you, Mr. Sandor? Or is it something else?" The ceratosaurus questioned.

"Oh, shut up." Said Kimber.

"I simply wish to know his reasoning." The Saurian shot back.

"He's Sandor Kolocsai. He has no reasoning." He replied.

"I doubt that." Solomon said.

The raccoon merely chuckled as he began disassembling his phone.

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Sandor, once again, slammed on the brakes, stopping the car in the middle of the busy intersection of Plats and Horgrow, with multiple vehicles' tires coming to a screeching halt in suit. Drivers threw insults, while pedestrians looked on, and attempted to record the scene with their phones. Sandor, meanwhile, turned back to Solomon, placing his hand on the front passenger head rest. He stared at the reptile for an unusual amount of time silently, then turned his attention to Kimber, briefly doing the same before continuing his drive up the avenue, much to the annoyed graciousness of other drivers.

"We are going to a bar called the Thirsty Terrier. We will find who we can there. Now... SHUSH!"

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Kimber rolled his eyes. This was a horrible plan. No one they would find inside a watering hole would be adequate help. 

All over shoes. He told himself as he finished disassembling his phone and taking the tracking devixe out of it. He then rolls down the window of the car and throws it onto the freeway.

Solomon was taken aback by Sandor's roughness but quickly regained composure. A desperate man. He thought.

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After a few tense minutes of driving, Sandor arrived at the Thirsty Terrier, which had just opened for the day. He had noticed there were already several vehicles parked in the lot. Sandor smiled, hopeful that there were others already inside. Sandor parked his dark orange Camry in a handicap spot, and opened the glove box. He took out a red handicap notice sticker on his windshield, and unlocked the doors. He opened the driver's door, disembarked from his vehicle, and slammed the door. He pretended to have a limp, and to further his ruse, he opened the trunk of the car with his keys and took out an assistive cane made of titanium. Sandor slammed the trunk, and proceeded to the front door of the bar, limping, using his cane to 'support' him.

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Pigleon Claimston stood in line at a doughnut shop, judging people around him. 'Why do cops love this place so much?' He wondered to himself, while simultaneously attempting to avoid eye contact with any of them. Not out of fear or hatred of law enforcement per-se, but rather because he didn't want to seem like a creeper.

"Pigguy Lamestein?" shouted a young baboon in suspenders and thick glasses from the inside of the bar, getting the patron's name incorrect, as is customary for anyone serving coffee. "That's... close enough." Responded Pigleon while walking around the crowds to the barista calling for him. "Four-fiddy." The baboon said, handing Pigleon a small cup of coffee and a plain, frosted doughnut. Placing the coffee back on the bar, Pigleon grabbed his wallet and swiped his card on a machine, smiling at the "Have a nice day" message that appeared.

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Spoiler

 

"HAHAHAH!" there was a burst of laughter inside the bar. All of them covered in paint rounds from the training exercise. Sven had job hopped for about a month before he landed a posistion on the local SWAT team. Today was his treat at the bar.

"Remember. One and I mean ONE pint each." he reminded all of them

"Got it Capt."

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"Mm-hmm, yeah," said a Vlach lizard to a voice on his cell phone, sitting at the bar inside the Thirsty Terrier. His gray hoodie and blue jeans made him quite inconspicuous inside the brightly lit, rather clean bar. The sunlight was shining through the bar's large windows, so there was not that great of a need for artificial light. This lizard was drinking a Draculesti, a popular cocktail among his people. "It was easy. No trouble."

"Good," replied the voice. "This is good. The money has been forwarded to your account." The lizard nodded in satisfaction. He glanced at the raucous celebrations of a SWAT team nearby. Somewhat paranoid, the lizard quickly finished his drink, paid his tab, and left. He opened the door, nearly knocking Sandor to the ground.

"Hey!" yelled the irate tykeriel. "Watch it, Jozsef, or else I'll bust one of your eyeballs!"

"Yeah, yeah, screw you too, you phony f--k..." answered Joe, noticing Sandor's outrageous attempts to portray a physically challenged person. Sandor became infuriated.

"I will cut you!" warned Sandor. Joe simply walked away, down the street. "Hey, hey! Help me find my shoes!" Iosif turned back.

"No," replied Joe. He then resumed his walking.

"Selfish kurva!" yelled Sandor. He finally entered the bar, with Kimber and Solomon behind him.

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"And this one is from the raid on 22nd st." One of the officers lifted his shirt to show two small scars on his chest, trying to show off in front of a waitress. 

"Yea" Sven grinned. "The bastard nearly killed you with a fork!" there was another outburst of laughter as the officer blushed.

"Alright, and what about you tough guy?" the waitress asked turning her attention to Sven.

"Switch blade." he began as he ran his finger down the scar, from the bottem of his left eye to his lip. He grinned, "You know what happend to Lt. Dan over there?"

"Dont do it Sven."

His grin grew "All right"

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"I'm going to shoot myself..." Said Kimber as he walked into The Thirsty Terrier. 

Looking around, he saw the policemen showing off their scars and scoffed, then approached the counter. 

"Get me really drunk... Fast." He told the bartender who wore a grimace.

"You're obviously underaged." The tender replied

"Come on, I was knocking back liquor shots when I was back on Venom." 

Kimber immediately regretted the last part because he knew what came next.

"We don't serve Venomian here. I suggest you leave." The bartender said.

With a huff, Kimber walked outside of the bar and pulls out his cellphone once more. 

"Hey Kosovo." He said. "It's Kimber... I'm gonna need you to get over to the thirsty terrier."

Meanwhile, Solomon sat in a dark corner of the bar. He never consumed alcohol and didn't intend to start drinking now.

 

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Sandor limped with his cane to the bar, and stumbled onto it, eventually sitting down on a stool. The bartender stared dubiously at Sandor.

"Lemme see your ID, buddy," he said. Sandor threw down his driver's license after taking out his wallet and revealing it. The bartender took it and placed it under a scanner, which identified fake IDs. After scanning for a few moments, the results were in. "It's clean, surprisingly," admitted the bartender. "Okay, whaddya want?"

"A Geza," said Sandor. The bartender's eyebrows were raised.

"I'll see what I can do," he said. Sandor sniffed annoyedly. He then looked to his right to notice Sven the raggedy man and his friends: all SWAT officers.

"Raggedy man!" yelled Sandor, pointing his cane at Sven. "I have a job offer for you."

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Amelia pondered the panoramic view of Corneria City, what seemed like miles below the enormous window of the restaurant on the lofty floor of the skyscraper--the plaid grid of sidewalks and streets, the occasional aquamarine of a rooftop swimming pool, the elevated track of the monorail that cut through the fabric of Altimonte Pointe like a giant zipper. One of the pools caught her attention. She liked the idea of a pool party some time in the near future. That would make good use of her own private swimming pool that she regrettably admits to barely using.

Turning to her boyfriend, who sat across the table from her, she posed a question. "So, Korben, you wanna have a pool party or something?"

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Korben stared at the wispy clouds colliding with the impossibly lofty skyscrapers. Truly their names were well-deserved. He noticed the gleaming sunlight bouncing off their glass facades, the hustle and bustle of the city streets below, the hovercraft and other ships zipping throughout designated fly lanes. He turned to his girlfriend, Amelia, as she asked him a question concerning a pool party. He caressed his cool glass of iced tea with a smile as he replied, "Sure."

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"So I was thinking," Amelia began yammering, "we could have it at my house... Or your house because it has a bigger pool. I could invite some of my people, you invite some of your people, and we could also have a barbecue. You know how to use a grill? Sure you do, you're a guy. So yeah. And--" she paused momentarily to take a sip of her raspberry lemonade, coughing a little as some went down the wrong pipe. "--Ahem. Hold on." She covered her mouth and gave a few more hefty coughs to make sure her windpipe was clear. "...Sorry 'bout that. Excuse me. So um... Where was I?"

She was just about to continue talking about everything and nothing when the waiter approached their table with the bill and placed it on their table. "Would you like to finish off with any desserts?" the waiter offered.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm trying to watch my weight," Amelia said, despite the fact that she'd consumed enough carbs from the bread sticks and pasta to last her a week. Digging through her purse for her wallet, she asked Korben without looking at him, "How about you, Korben? You gonna do you a piece of cake or something?"

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Korben shook his head. He sighed, looking back at the gleaming city. However, he was a bit nervous about the pool party. He had no knowledge about using a grill. The only thing he could cook during university was ramen, and he almost always ate out or had food delivered, since he could afford it. Rarely did he cook, and it is no surprise that he does not know how to cook well.

How the Hell can I cook for that many people? I can't even cook! Maybe if I order take out from some barbecque place or something. Yeah, that could work.

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"Raggedy man?" Dan asked Sven.

 "Nope," standing he grabed his drink and walked to Sandor. "Whats this job? And why do you call me raggedy man?" he pulled a stool over to him and sat down.

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"Ah, the heart of a mercenary!" Sandor excitedly uttered, bashing his fist against his chest. "Instantly interested in what I have to offer! It's a good paying job." Sandor went in closer to whisper him. "I lost my shoes," he said quietly.

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Solomon watched the exchange between Sandor and the SWAT member. He chuckles as the two  conversed. 

After a few minutes, a very drunken eagle sauntered put to his table.

"Hey." The bird says. " You seem to be sitting in my seat."

"There are plenty of other seats my friend." The dinosaur said to the bird.

"It's mine." The eagle said, drawing a knife.

Solomon quickly slammed the eagle's head into the table. A crash sounded across the bar.

He sat down, disappointed. He hated violence.

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Lunch at that new exclusive restaurant was exquisite, as was the bill. Almost two-hundred dollars for the two of them. But it was no biggie.

"I've been wanting to try out this new bathing suit," Amelia began another of her ramblings as they boarded the elevator. "It's this designer "Monokini" thing. Its a one-piece bathing suit, but it looks sexier...--Oh! I also wanna pick up some shoes from Barney's. They have a sale going on for 30% off, and it ends tomorrow. Been having my eye on the Bianca pumps by Christian Louboutin. Hey, you know they sell guys shoes too. Everything from sneakers to dress shoes. They're pretty cute. Im going to buy my son a pair when he gets older. Speaking of which, his birthday is coming up. I was thinking of signing him up for GameFly. Are you into video games, Korben?"

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Korben nodded as his mind recorded almost every detail of Amelia's ramblings, despite the difficulty most other men would find this activity to be. He smiled slightly, always enjoying Amelia conversing with him. He liked that about this relationship. She talked to her, he listened, and then dished out some concise advice. They somehow clicked. Then, Amelia asked him about video games. He rather enjoyed a game or two, as he and Sandor would sometimes test their prowess in the virtual world against one another. It was usually some sort of shooter, and either one of them would emerge as the winner. Korben, though, decided to downplay his affinity for electronic entertainment.

"A little bit," he said, shrugging the shoulders of his elegant, crisp, 3000 credit Armani black suit and tie.

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"Come with me," Sandor said grimly, with a smile on his face. He sipped another portion of his Geza, which burnt his throat as it fell down his throat. "Ten grand. Five on acceptance, five on mission completion. But only you. I don't want any of your friends."

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Solomon looked at Sandor and the officer quzzically. Was the tykeriel serious about recruiting a police soldier? It was a bit excessive to him. 

He gets up and walks outside to where Kimber was.

"How are you, my friend?" Solomon asked the small raccoon.

"Livid." He replied. 

"That is not good, Kimber." He said. "You musn't hate life."

"Hard to when your bartender's an intolerant racist." 

"What are you doing out here?"  The Saurian asked.

"Calling Kosovo." He replied. "To take me home... Taleir, I'm in trouble."

In a few minutes, Kosovo came up to the bar and sees Kimber angry. 

"What happened?" He required.

"Sandor." The teen answered.

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Amelia dug through her purse looking for her keys. She found them just as the elevator bell chimed, signifying that they've reached the parking level. The sliding doors of brushed champagne steel parted, and Amelia stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage. "Lucky we found a spot next to the elevator." Walking around to the driver's, the central locking disengaging as she neared the door, and opened the door to hop in.

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Korben walked to the passenger door, his Ermenegildo Zegna black leather derby shoes clacking on the parking garage's pavement. He opened the door and, unbuttoning his blazer for additional seating comfort, sat inside, and closed the door. He turned to Amelia.

"So, when are w-w-w-we g-g-going to h-h-have this b-b-b-barbeque party?" he stuttered.

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"I'ono," Amelia answered, as she pulled the seat belt over her and buckled it. "Maybe in a week? I haven't thought it through." Flipping open the switchblade key, she inserted into the ignition and started the car, bringing the vehicle's smooth electrically-assisted 3.7 liter V6 engine to life. She shifted the car into reverse and slowly back out of the parking space. "Say, do you actually know how to use a barbecue?"

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