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While cruising towards Twoson, Everdred kept wondering about his ex-partner, Shaft. Was he OK? Would he return? No matter his feelings about his partner, Dred was already on his second case. Orange Kid. Who in their right mind would kidnap that spazztastic little pseudo inventor? The kidnappers would've had more success by kidnapping Haley Joel Osment, but they decided take Mr. "Suproma" himself? Pishaw. Everdred was left with a smirk as he passed through the Threed tunnel. This case wouldn't be easy, and he didn't have some fancy, tough-minded partner to help him, either. Just Dred and his wits. That scared him. Scared him to the point in which he talked to himself before arriving in Twoson.
"Man, I can't do this anymore. It just ain't fun. Sure Electra's one heck of a secretary, but I need me a new partner. Think, Dred. Who's services could I enlist, and still take a hefty percentage of the profits?"
The talking stopped as he saw a familiar-looking buff guy get chased by a few random ghosts near the Twoson to Threed tunnel. He had arrived. Home. It was a sickening feeling.
"Sir, mind making a donation?"
"Wha? Who are you and why do you need a donation? Get away from my car."
A middle-aged yet athletic woman jumped on Everdred's windshield with a bucket full of change.
"Sir, I once lived the life of a Happy Happyist. Since I cleaned up that place, I realized something. When I moved back to Twoson, I found that I was flat broke. Donate a dollar or more, and I'll get you a picture postcard!"
"Easy, heffer. You ain't gettin' none of Dred's coinage."
As smoothly as anyone could do at the time, Everdred hung a quick left off of the road, and he then veered back to see that he had successfully slung the woman straight through a local apple-inspired sign. He pulled in, got out, and stretched.
"Loopy lady."
After a good stretch, the town's other famous inventor trotted outside to assess the damage to his sign. Apple Kid. The portly lad looked different, though. He apparently had taken the usual teen route of reinventing himself. Everdred noted that he looked more urbanfied. He thought if Tom Hanks couldn't get away with a hip hop look, why should Apple Kid?
"Yo, kid. Looks like you've got yourself an identity problem."
"Well, if it isn't Everdred. You just don't get it, man. Inventors aren't cool anymore. Ever see American Idol? It's all about the music game these days, and brotha, I got game."
"That a fact?"
Apple Kid snickered, took a mic out of his pocket and began a freestyle funk that would surely negate any of his genious inventions over the years.
"Oh, I gotsta see this." Right there, in Apple Kid's lawn, Everdred plopped down as Apple Kid tried warming up as a human beatbox. It was horrible, but it didn't compare to the crude rapping skills he exhibited shortly after.
"Oh, snap! Oh, snap! Well, I'm Apple Kid, but you can call me AK!"
"You know I be rockin' Twoson in an oldschool way!"
"The girls, as you may know, they call me a louse, but hey, guess what? I got rid of my mouse."
"Floated some loans, and soon, MTV Cribs will be checking my house."
"You know, I never got credit for helping to save us all."
"But it don't matter, I'm like butter 'cause you know I can ball."
"Remember Kids in the Hall? Dang, 'em Canucks were funny."
"But none of it even compares to good 'ole AK and all his newfound money."
"Word to your mother." After fetching a towel and removing one of his many gold chains, Apple Kid looked at Everdred. "So, what'd you think?"
"Kid, you got gumption." Everdred dusted himself off after getting up, and he looked in the distance as he saw what looked to be a woman running in the distance. She was holding an apple-shaped sign.
"Gee, thanks. What brings you back?"
"Kidnapping. Seems that someone took your neighbor Orange Kid. Two of his groupies called me, but they've yet to turn up. Right now, I'm just wondering who's taking care of the bill."
"Orange Kid, huh? Well, put this one on my tab. He hasn't been that bad of a neighbor, and he even hooked me up with plenty of ketchup packets during my poor years."
"Kid, you're no Neil Diamond, but you sure are kind. Kind to the tune of a cool hundred, if you catch my drift."
"Dang, you're cheap."
"Kid, for years, I was leading the life of a mafioso of a park. A park, kid. Money, it comes and goes. People are important, and so is fame, apparently." Apple Kid slapped him some quick bills, and Everdred began to question him.
"OK, since you're willing to pay for the investigation, I'm going to exclude you from any brash questioning that'd make you seem guilty. Instead, I want to know who you think could've done it?" After flashing some gang signs to a few passing cars, Apple Kid responded.
"Well, sir, I don't know. We got Mr. T. He aided in helping kidnap Paula Polestar a few years back. Then, you got that reformed cultist, Carpainter. Funny, he gardens now or something. Then, I suppose you've got your replacement in Burglin Park."
"Replacement? I've already been replaced as the main man of the seedy Burglin scene?"
"Uh, yeah. The guy's name is Fritz Polestar. You guessed it, he's a cousin of Paula, but this guy's weird. Weird and maybe European. Then again, he could be posing as a European. Some people just don't know how to keep it real, you know?"
Everdred produced a very uncomfortable cough. "Yeah, people that aren't themselves sure are strange."
"Word. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some gold-colored aluminum foil I'm going to apply to my teeth. It's all about the golden grill, you know?"
After an even more uncomfortable nod, Everdred fled away in his car to the first stop, a bike shop that Mr. T was scene gawking at on a fairly daily basis. Everdred parked and approached the legend.
"Everdred! Well, I'll be. What's going on, man?"
"Well, Mr. T, I've received a report stating that Orange Kid has been kidnapped. You know anything about it?"
"Man, you don't know me anymore. I ain't like that these days. Lately, I've been all about finding work and staying active. Whether it's my nice pad in the second floor of the bakery in Fourside or a Twoson sidewalk, I'm a free spirit these days, foo. Gotta get mellow. Gotta get work."
"Right, so, why are you hanging around just to gawk at people that get bikes?"
"These foos got it all wrong. Bikes are for those prissy Europeans. You wanna look tough. You get a van. Simple as that, crazy man."
"Man and van? Geez, you'd think I landed in an Eminem movie over here. Anywho, that sounds sensible enough; for you, at least. Well, that'd be all. Thanks for your help, and I'll be in town if you find out anything else."
"You got it." After knocking over a few passing bikers together, Everdred and Mr. T went their separate ways. Mr. T headed off for a run to Fourside, and Dred took a little trot over to Burglin Park. He was curious about this Fritz Polestar guy. Ironically, Fritz lived in the same small house that Everdred did. He was sitting outside of his door; on a bike no less!
"Yo, Fritz?"
"Ja, who are you? What do you want?"
"Everdred, PI. Seems we had a recent kidnapping of Orange Kid, local inventor. You know anything about it?"
"Everdred, huh? Ah, that haiku-loving softy that got trampled by Ness. My bicycle and I sympathize with you, but I had nothing to do with the kidnapping, and I'd appreciate it if you left my establishment soon."
"Your establishment? Fritzy, I OWNED this place while you were still running around, gumming down bratwursts, little man. I need answers."
"My friend, I don't like your tone."
That was enough for old Everdred. He shoved Fritz off of his bike, picked it up, and tossed it at a random food dealer. He then applied patented Everdred Ear Grip™ to the new leader of the Burglin Park crew. Fritz fainted.
"Serves you little bike-riding punks right." Everdred cruised the streets awhile longer until he saw something that wasn't there when he left Twoson. It was a greenhouse. Must've been Carpainter.
As soon as he got out of his car again, Everdred saw Carpainter walk out of his greenhouse. He looked suspicious, but he had kept in better shape over the years than Jerry Rice. Looking quite odd, Everdred confronted him.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Mani Mani Stealer. How do you do?"
"Just fine, Mr. Mani Mani Stealer that stole the Mani Mani from the original stealer. And yourself?"
"Lovely. Say, are you here just to stare at my lovely produce, or can I help you with something?"
"You can help me with something, alright. Orange Kid. He's been kidnapped. I need to know his whereabouts, and the identity of the slimeball that took him."
"You can't honestly be insinuating that I took that Chubby overrated mongrel. Why do you care, anyways?"
"Well, Slimeball, I'm now a private investigator, and I want to see to it that the kidnapper goes down hard."
"Scary. Leave me alone, though. I know nothing."
"We'll see about that." Everdred snatched Carpainter's glasses right off of his face, let them fall to the ground, and he then crushed them.
"Have a nice day." With that, Everdred began to cruise around. Night had almost fallen, and Everdred had nothing to show for the investigation. Distraught, he pulled into Mach Pizza for a quick bite. After a couple of premium slices of delight, he talked to the ever-smiling worker behind the counter.
"It's quite nice y'all are finally letting people dine in. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, Thank you, Mr. Everdred. With the exception of the occasional in-house pizza theft, letting people dine in has been successful so far."
"Pizza theft? Mind filling me in?" The woman's everlasting smile relented as she described the event.
"Well, as strange as it sounds, there was a mouse. A talking mouse. He demanded that we give him pizza or he'd harm one of us. He seemed so cute at first."
Everdred suddenly came to quite the revelation. How could this have escaped him? A mouse! Apple Kid's mouse. During his rap, Apple Kid revealed that he got rid of the thing, but where could he be hiding? After some serious regression, Everdred paid the woman for his meal, and began to run North while there was still a small gleam of sunlight. While he still had a chance. There it was. In the path connecting Onett and Twoson, there was the house that the exit mice lived in for years. Hearing those small, squeaky voices, Everdred took out the only weapon he had, a napkin he took from Mach Pizza. He had to get better at this packing heat thing. He busted down the door quicker than a Nolan Ryan fastball to find that his theory had come to fruition.
"Get outta here!" It was Apple Kid's mouse. He had the exit mice, Orange Kid, and some grungy-looking guy bound together with rope. Some discarded pizza boxes littered the place. Apple Kid's mouse wasn't a normal mouse anymore. It was rowdy.
"OK, mouse. You know the drill, release the hostages, and I'll listen to your demands." The mouse sneered.
"You just don't get it, do you? I'm in control here. You'll listen to my demands, regardless. I lived for years in poverty with Apple Kid. Once he hit it big, he dumped me off back to poverty! Look at me! I'm an English-speaking mouse, and I have to kidnap inventors to get what I want."
"And what do you want?"
"These hostages in pain!" The mouse proceeded to smack each of his hostages in the face with his tail. The tail-whipping lasted a few more seconds until Everdred stepped in.
"That's it. Just you and me, pal. Showtime."
"I like my odds. Fritz attack!" Out of nowhere, Fritz Polestar, who must've been an accomplice for whatever reason, lunged at Everdred from the darkness. Everdred made quick work of him by picking up a can of kraut that was on the floor and jamming it into Fritz's mouth. Fritz wasn't choking, but having a can in his mouth sure left him feeling awkward. Awkward to the point of severe confusion. Everdred finished him off by drop kicking Fritz through a window. Just Dred and the mouse.
"Oh yeah!?" The mouse squeaked as he reached for a nearby slime generator. "Say goodbye, Dred. It's lights out for you!"
Before the mouse could squeeze the trigger, Mr. T made an impressive enterance by falling through the roof, landing on the mouse. He picked himself up and turned to Dred.
"I'm here, suckas. Now, where's that no good mouse? I'm here to take care of business." After a quick inspection, Everdred replied.
"T, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but when you came through the roof, you sorta landed on the mouse. This case looks to be closed, but I certainly appreciate the effort."
"No prob, Bob. I just realized it was that no good rat when I was on my daily run to the bakery in Fourside. I probably should've told you something earlier, but I've got a definite knack for finding culprits to this type of thing."
"Do you now? Well, allow me to call in the authorities, and we'll talk about all of this later."
"Sure thing."
The authorities came in a good three hours later. They were late, but Fritz and the mouse were still out of the loop. Sure, they both survived, but working for the kidnapping of four people and taking control of their house certainly didn't seem too sensible for the police. They carried away the two as they greeted Everdred and Mr. T with some well-timed sneers. Everdred gave Mr. T decided to give Mr. T a lift back to Fourside. Before dropping him off, however, he had a proposition.
"Mr. T, you really came through in the clutch today."
"All in a day's work, Dreddio. Say, when we get to the bakery, can I interest you in a day old sandwich?"
"Uhm, that's OK, T. I've got a proposition for you; for the both of us."
"Shoot from the hip, froggy."
"Well, T, I recently lost a partner in Shaft. The guy up and left mid-investigation. What I need is a new partner, I think you're the man to fill those shoes. What do you say?"
"Man, other than wrecking Balboa a few times, crime fighting is where it's at. Sure, man, I'm game."
After dropping off Mr. T, Everdred called it a night. An inventor and three others were saved, a wicked mouse and a dirty post-Everdred mafioso was taken down, and a new partner was found. Mr. T wasn't the wisest guy around. Everdred forgot to ask him about the whereabouts of his fabled van, but he got the feeling that it was safely stored somewhere waiting for action, and action would be just the thing they were sure to get. The morning after the Orange Kid case was wrapped, Everdred got a call while he was still in bed. It was from Electra, his secretary.
"Yes, Electra?"
"Everdred, sir, we already have another case. This one's a whopper. We have a Jeff and Dr. Andonuts that are searching for the whereabouts of a Mrs. Andonuts. They said they have no clues of her disappearance, and they don't know where she could've gone, but they figure something quite wrong has occurred when you consider that she's been gone for years. They said they would've reported it earlier, but with her gone, there was apparently more room to hire more cavemen and store broken junk. They really sounded desperate."
"Andonuts? Great, sounds like another Chosen Four freebie case. Unless Jeff has a cousin Fritz Andonuts, I'll do it. Mr. T and I will depart for Winters tomorrow. Tell them I'm on it."
"Yes, sir." Everdred hung up the phone to collect his thoughts after waking.
If he learned anything from his return trip to Twoson, it was that things change, and he knew he'd see that when he and Mr. T searched for Mrs. Andonuts. There was a good chance that if Mrs. Andonuts was kidnapped, it was by more than just a mouse, but Everdred didn't feel nearly as discouraged as he did before his first Twoson case. Dare I say it, the man felt confident. He believed in himself, and he knew he had a loyal helper in Mr. T. Brash new partner by his side, he'd have to face a cold world. The cold world of Winters. Stonehenge, aliens, monkeys with a thing for gum. These things spooked Everdred, but he had a job to do, and unlike Ness and company, he had no gadgets or PSI to use as a crutch. All he had was his wits, and hardcore belief in justice. He was a man of principle.