Page 12 of 2 Fuzzy, 2 Furious


  “Chkka.”

  “Or biting off body parts. Same difference.”

  Squirrel Girl and girl squirrel stared at the house.

  “Maybe I could just go knock,” Squirrel Girl said. “That worked before.”

  Tippy-Toe sniffed. The last time Squirrel Girl had just knocked on the door of someone she thought was a bad guy, evil robot people had answered. That unexpected encounter had ended in a big fight involving crashing trees, totaled cars, and terrified neighbors.

  “Okay, so maybe that last time wasn’t ideal,” she said. “But we did end up stopping the bad guys.”

  “Chukka.”

  “Let’s just go take a closer look.”

  Tippy-Toe and Squirrel Girl tipped on their toes across the street and to Ms. Schweinbein’s house. Something in the basement squealed. Squirrel Girl peeked into a window well. The basement windows had been covered over with newspaper.

  “She’s definitely hiding something,” Squirrel Girl whispered.

  Ms. Schweinbein’s neighbors switched on their porch light, bathing Squirrel Girl in a yellow glow. She scampered to the roof just as a woman opened the porch door and came out carrying a full garbage bag.

  A voice from inside the neighbor’s house said, “How’s the stench house tonight?”

  The neighbor woman groaned, looked at Schweinbein’s house, and shook her head.

  “Still smells like a zoo,” she replied, “but at least the wind isn’t blowing our way.”

  The neighbor went back inside and shut the door. The outside light turned off.

  “Ugh,” Squirrel Girl whispered. “I hate sneaking around. I’m the good guy. I’m not supposed to sneak.”

  Tippy-Toe sniffed again and twitched her tail.

  “You are so one of the good guys, Tippy,” she said. “You just do your thing, and if people don’t notice you, that’s on them for being supremely unobservant of the great furry ones.”

  Tippy-Toe scampered to the chimney, held up a paw, and motioned Squirrel Girl closer. Squirrel Girl knelt to listen. From the chimney came a muffled voice, full of echoes but still very familiar: Ms. Schweinbein.

  “…this is better than the cage, though, isn’t it?…Yes, I know you want to go outside, but it isn’t time….They wouldn’t understand….They don’t want you here….Only I love you….Let’s see what’s in your formulation today….Ah, a meat day….Ugh…I wish they would tell me who the meat was from before I feed it to you….”

  Besides Ms. Schweinbein’s voice, other unsettling noises leaked out of the pipe. Chewing and smacking sounds. Like living things eating. Or being eaten.

  “Omigosh!” Squirrel Girl said. “That is so messed up! We have to stop her!”

  She slid down the roof and landed on the front steps, already knocking forcefully (but politely) on the door before she’d even landed. She crouched in battle stance. “Get ready, Tippy.”

  Tippy-Toe ran her claws through her head fur, making it stand up in a ridge like a Mohawk. Claws out. Face fierce. Pink bow tied like a dream.

  There was an angry grunt from the other side of the door, and then it cracked open an inch. The equally angry eye of her teacher stared out of that crack, and then grew wide in surprise.

  Squirrel Girl was just about to pounce the door open when it swung wide. Her teacher took tiny little hops like a toddler who needs to go to the bathroom, wringing her hands and smiling more than seemed possible for that face.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” said Ms. Schweinbein.

  Squirrel Girl relaxed her battle stance. “Um, are you okay?”

  “You…you…you…” she said, still hopping.

  Squirrel Girl looked to Tippy-Toe, who shrugged.

  “You’re Squirrel Girl!” the woman shouted, and then began to squeal like a teapot.

  The neighbors’ porch light came on again.

  “Hey, yes, yes I am,” Squirrel Girl said. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Please!” Ms. Schweinbein said, taking those tiny steps backward now. “Come in, come in!”

  Squirrel Girl darted inside while scoping out her surroundings for any sign of a trap. The living room was small, furnished with a single table, lamp, and recliner. It all looked normal.

  Except for the smell. Now that she was inside, the smell of animal was so strong, her eyes watered.

  “Your tail is ah-mazing,” Ms. Schweinbein said.

  “Um…thank you.”

  “How did you know? How did you know to come here?”

  “Well…I…”

  “Did you get my letter? You must have gotten my letter! I sent it care of the Shady Oaks Neighborhood Council, but I never thought you’d actually get it!”

  “Wait. Are you—”

  “Hannah Schweinbein! I AM YOUR BIGGEST FAN!”

  “Oh, wow,” Squirrel Girl said. Tippy-Toe made a coughing noise that was her attempt to disguise squirrel laughter.

  Ms. Schweinbein ran into the next room and came back with what looked a brown tea cozy with doll eyes glued on it. The woman thrust it at Squirrel Girl.

  “It’s you,” she said. “In crochet form! I made it!”

  Squirrel Girl reached for the little effigy, but Ms. Schweinbein pulled it back.

  “It’s mine, though,” she said, clutching the doll to her chest.

  “It’s pretty cool,” Squirrel Girl said, all her attention on her surroundings for any sign of what was really going on here. The idea that Ms. Schweinbein was both a superfan of Squirrel Girl and a super-not-fan of Doreen Green was super-weird. There had to be hidden cameras or something. Was there a show that pulled pranks on Super Heroes?

  Ms. Schweinbein was talking. “…so when I saw you online with the squirrels and the hero stuff and the tail and the leaping I thought, she loves animals just like I do and thinks doing good is good and is also so nice and cool, I thought I just had to come to Shady Oaks, and when I did, I saw you for real! I moved here you know, just recently, and I saw you out leaping through the trees, like, a few weeks ago and I wanted to call out a greeting or a ‘Hey there, good job’ or something, but I was too shy and…”

  While she spoke, a blur of something moved in Squirrel Girl’s periphery. It’d been pale, fast, and low to the ground, tiny steps clicking against the tile. Squirrel Girl inched down the hall toward where it’d gone, Ms. Schweinbein following behind without a pause in her monologue. Squirrel Girl peeked into a room.

  There was a chicken. An actual, real chicken. It raised an orange foot and froze, looking at Squirrel girl with one wide yellow eye as if it was surprised to be discovered.

  “Chicken,” Squirrel Girl said.

  “Oh, I know you’re friendly,” said Ms. Schweinbein, “and I shouldn’t have been scared to talk to you but—”

  “No,” Squirrel Girl said, pointing at the bird. “Chicken. There is a chicken in your house.”

  Ms. Schweinbein spun around.

  “Mrs. Bubs!” Ms. Schweinbein cried, rushing to the bird. “Upstairs is not for chickens! How did you get out?”

  The woman bundled up the animal and hurried down a stairway.

  “I’ll be right ba-ack,” she sang out. “Just a se-cond….”

  When Ms. Schweinbein opened a door at the base of the stairs, the animal smell wasn’t just strong. It was robust. It was undeniable. It was superhuman. Downstairs, underground, the air was thick with dirt, water, grass, manure, and fur.

  Also something began to bleat.

  Ms. Schweinbein jogged back up the stairs, out of breath and smiling. She shrugged. “Chickens! What are you going to do?”

  “Ms. Schweinbein—” Squirrel Girl said.

  “Call me Hannah,” Ms. Schweinbein said.

  “Okay, uh, Hannah,” Squirrel Girl said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have some kind of experimental animal lab in the basement?”

  Ms. Schweinbein’s expression clouded, and her eyes shifted down. “Um,” she said. “It…um…it isn’t a lab exactly.”

  She
looked like a little girl who had sneaked a frog home in her pocket. Squirrel Girl took a deep breath. She was suddenly the adult here, and her teacher was being naughty.

  “I’m going down,” Squirrel Girl said.

  “Okay,” Ms. Schweinbein squeaked.

  Squirrel Girl jumped. Ms. Schweinbein followed. Not jumping, though.

  The basement floor was covered in dirt. It had to be pretty deep, because one corner was growing alfalfa or something. There was a big plastic trough of water in the center and sun lamps in every corner. Mounted to the ceiling, a large fan slowly turned. And there were animals. A dog, a goat, two pigs, and a handful of chickens in cages. Mrs. Bubs peered out through the chicken wire.

  “So it’s kind of a farm,” Ms. Schweinbein said.

  “This is SO cool,” Squirrel Girl said, crouching to pet the goat.

  Ms. Schweinbein brightened. “I’m so glad you think so! I knew we both love animals!”

  “I didn’t even know you could do this in basements,” Squirrel Girl said. “Why don’t more people do this in basements?”

  “Well,” Ms. Schweinbein said, “it’s not exactly…you know, legal.”

  “That’s not good, then.”

  “I know. But I love them so much. And I need them. They keep me sane. You don’t know how terrible my day job is.”

  “Look, Hannah, this is normally the kind of thing that I stop,” Squirrel Girl said.

  “Animal farms?”

  “No. Criming. Law breaking.”

  Ms. Schweinbein sniffed. Her eyes glistened.

  “But the thing is,” Squirrel Girl said, “I think you can figure this out on your own.”

  “I can?”

  “Yes,” Squirrel Girl said. “But you are going to have to do something. Move them, move you, I don’t know. You just can’t keep a barnyard in a basement, can you?”

  Ms. Schweinbein shrugged. “I guess not,” she said.

  A brief but loud sound of flatulence echoed against the basement’s cement walls. Ms. Schweinbein sighed. “That was the goat. She has gas, poor dear.”

  Squirrel Girl put her hands on her hips. It was a little difficult to feel heroic around farting farm animals, but she was doing her best. “I will let you care for your flatulent goat, then, Hannah. For I have evildoers to root out of hiding!”

  Squirrel Girl was up the basement stairs and almost out of the house before Ms. Schweinbein came chasing after her. “Wait! I’ve got an idea for you.”

  Squirrel Girl paused, her hand on the doorknob. She did, in fact, have evildoers to root out of hiding. But Doreen Green knew how it felt to raise your hand and hope and hope that your teacher would call on you so you could share your idea. The fair thing would be to ignore Hannah as Hannah had ignored Doreen. But that would not be the heroic thing.

  Squirrel Girl took her hand off the door handle. “Tell me,” she said.

  Ms. Schweinbein grinned. “Are you hunting Dog-Lord and Mistress Meow?”

  “Well…yeah, sorta,” said Squirrel Girl. “Do you know anything about that?”

  “Human-animal hybrids?” The teacher’s eyes still glistened, but no longer from sadness. “That’s the dream. I subscribe to Hybrid Lover magazine, so I know that A.I.M. used to experiment with hybrids, but they’re out of that game now. Whoever created them, that’s no mom-and-pop operation. That’s big-time.” She shrugged. “Um, that’s all I’ve got, I guess. Sorry. I just really wanted to help you!”

  She stared at Squirrel Girl so adoringly, stars seemed to twinkle in her eyes.

  “Hannah, I’ve got to say, you’re not what I expected,” said Squirrel Girl. “And you know what? I bet there are people around you—say, at your workplace, for instance, wherever that might be—who are not what you expect either. Maybe be nice to them? Like, super-nice? For me?”

  Ms. Schweinbein nodded, but she was still so starry-eyed, Squirrel Girl wasn’t sure how much of that had soaked in.

  She waved as she bounded away, feeling just a tad grumpy. This Doreen Green problem was just something else that Squirrel Girl couldn’t fix with a quick punch. She sighed.

  And then she laughed.

  “Chickens in the basement,” she said.

  Tippy-Toe had climbed onto her shoulder as she raced across rooftops.

  “Chek-tita,” said Tippy-Toe.

  “What’s that? You’re wondering what other basements hide?”

  The squirrel sneezed in a way that meant, Yes indeed, ma’am, I sure am.

  TO: [Undisclosed Recipients]

  DATE: Today

  SUBJECT: RE: The Creatures that Stalk Our Halls

  Please disregard the previous e-mail below. Mistress Meow and Dog-Lord will no longer be among us due to some extremely aggravating heroing. Related note: I am in a bad mood so don’t talk to me today.

  xoxo,

  BOSS

  TO: [Undisclosed Recipients]

  DATE: Friday

  SUBJECT: The Creatures that Stalk Our Halls

  If you see the canine or the feline hybrid in our secret base, don’t shoot at them with your plasma guns! Give them a hug! If you do try to shoot them, you might end up our next mauling victim. HAH! “MALL”-ING? That’s crazy what with the mall and all, right? ;)

  But, Boss! you ask, How can we tell the difference between people in our base that need to be shot and those that shouldn’t be shot? These genetic monstrosities aren’t in uniform!

  Yes indeedy! You just keep on shooting people out of uniform! BUT…and this is a big BUT (HA! big butt…), FUR IS NOW A UNIFORM! Isn’t that incredible? Natural fur, that is. Don’t be skinning your neighbor’s pets for comfortable new slacks! Because we’ll shoot you!

  Yes, I know that Larry in Tanks and Siphoning appears to be covered in “natural fur,” but actually he’s just really hairy. When I say “natural,” I mean “genetically merged with animal DNA.” So sorry, Larry, no free pass for you! Everyone, if Larry’s ever out of uniform, feel free to shoot him! Same goes for if he betrays us! (Hi, Larry! Don’t betray us!)

  A note about food. We all love food! And the food in our cafeteria is the best food! BUT! (Another BIG BUT!) Unless you are me or Barry, our beastly compatriots outrank you. They get first choice at the buffet line. If you push in front of them or take their food, they WILL bite you. Like, probably a lot of times! You might die! I’m okay if they eat you, frankly! So be smart!

  BOSS OUT!

  P.S. I have reconsidered. If you see the hybrids in the base, DON’T try to give them a hug. Don’t give anyone a hug. We are a 100 percent hug-free workplace.

  This e-mail message may contain confidential material. If you are not an intended recipient, please delete this file from your computer, then throw your computer into the ocean, then row yourself as far away as you can.

  Yo yo yo slick with sociable medias!!!!! The hashtag Chester Yard Mall™ grand opening is just two days away! ;D ;D ;D ;D Lol get rekt m8. Join us this Saturday at high noon when we open our doors for the first time. What groovy shocking surprises AND HASHTAG GREAT GROOVY DEALS await inside??? YO!!!!

  Every1ne remember: opening day is also hashtag election day! Take our meme-a-tubular poll. Which far out animal do you think should be our hashtag mall mascot? ;P

  Frankie

  Some creepy cat thing scratched up my car! I never liked cats before, but now I hate them!

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  Beau Yeah well cats probably hate you too!

  Frankie Jump in the lake, jerkwad!

  Beau Same to you, gorseface!

  Frankie Um

  Beau I meant horseface

  Erin I saw that cat beast on the news! Creeeeeepy.

  William It’s dog propaganda! No way some cat monster randomly appears days before the mascot election. They’re trying to scare you away from voting!

  Earl I’m on Team Dog and I know lots of people on Team Dog and I promise you none of us made a cat monster in order to sway your vote. Vote dog because dogs RULE!
r />   Cyndee No it was Team Cat that made the cat beast! My brother-in-law’s best friend is friends with a cop and he said that Team Cat is tricking everyone into thinking Team Dog did it so that people will sympathize with Team Cat.

  Penny Well I’m on Team Cat and that’s all lies! You are a lying liar and so is your brother-in-law’s best friend’s cop friend!

  Cyndee Team Cat thinks police are liars! You saw! Dogs are the team of law and order!

  Matthew

  Someone spray-painted dog faces all over our house!

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  Carson Someone painted cat FECES all over OUR house!

  Penny Oh yeah? How can you tell it was cat feces and not dog feces?

  Carson They painted a big arrow pointing at it with the words “These are cat feces”

  Penny Wow. I mean, I guess you’ve gotta admire the forethought.

  Sasha

  Listless Pines punks drive their noisy trucks through our neighborhood and shout awful stuff at people. Awful!

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  Inna

  Am I the only one who thinks this mall might actually be Hydra?

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  Cyndee You’re probably on Team Cat and just trying to scare everyone so they’ll stay away and won’t vote. And you know what? That’s even eviler than Hydra. You disgust me. Vote Dog!

  Greencowllvro818

  A fine shopping mall is the hallmark of a civilized society. I eagerly anticipate many peaceful shopping experiences in the climate-controlled, windowless splendor. Might there even be a fountain of crystal waters? I am hoping with great cause!

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  Jake

  Cats are literally spawned from the devil!

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