Return To Toontown Part 2

Chapter Two: Toontown Precinct

"Alright. Are we all ready?"
A murmur of assent sounded from the group. Greasy pushed the door open, and the four weasels all walked into the Toontown Precinct. Greasy just hoped their disguises would be enough. Not having much to disguise themselves with, they had mainly ended up swapping their shirts and hats. Psycho's straight-jacket had had the arms tucked in, to make it resemble a normal shirt, and he was wearing Wheezy's waistcoat over that. Stupid had Greasy's overcoat and hat on, and Greasy and Wheezy had both settled for disguising themselves with cigarette ash. The four of them made their way towards the desk of the police commissioner; a fat Toon bulldog who was presently asleep in his chair.
Reaching the desk, Wheezy rang the bell sitting on the edge of it, and waited for the bulldog to wake up and assist them. No response. The bulldog simply shifted in his sleep and then began to snore loudly. Greasy leaned over the desk, in an attempt to wake the sleeping bulldog.
"Hey, dog…dog!" Nothing. "Officer, the building's on fire." Not even a blink. "Here boy," he said, grabbing a pen from the inkstand. "Fetch the stick, boy!" The bulldog remained as deeply in sleep as before.
Greasy had just about lost patience with the sleeping police dog and was about to turn around and leave, when Stupid abruptly walked forward and brought his hand down on the desk with a loud CRUNCH!
The bulldog immediately shot up in his chair, and his head collided with Greasy's. Both weasel and officer fell back in pain, while the other weasels screamed with laughter. Wheezy suddenly realised the urgency of the situation, stopped laughing himself, and silenced the other two before they could give themselves away.
The bulldog sat back on his chair, rubbing his head. "Um…so…Welcome to the Toontown Police Department," he said, with the enthusiasm of a person who'd just lost their job. "How can I assist you on this fine day?"
The weasels panicked. They hadn't thought out what they would say to the officer. Greasy looked around himself frantically, for an idea of what to say.
"Um…we…we are…"
He suddenly noticed a poster on the wall advertising a holiday on some fancy cruise ship. "Tourists! Yes, we're tourists…from…from…EuroToonTown, and we need a map to help us find our way around town," he finished feebly.
The others held their breath. Greasy was a lousy liar. But the bulldog fell for it, and sat up in his chair.
"From EuroToonTown?" He brightened at their answer. Clearly, he hadn't had much to do lately. "Sure, I can help you. Sorry you haven't had any help here, we're a bit short of officers at the minute." He got to his feet. "Just a second. I'll be right back with that map."
He dashed away into the depths of the building. As soon as he disappeared from view, all four weasels cracked up laughing.
"I can't believe that actually worked!" Wheezy cackled. "Tourists? That's the best you could come up with?"
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Greasy chuckled, relieved. A second later, the police officer would return with their map, and their problems would be over. But something the officer had said didn't sound quite right. The words echoed in his head. "We're a bit short of officers at the minute". Greasy couldn't believe it. Were things in Toontown really that bad? Was there only one cop dealing with all that chaos outside?
Before he could ponder things any more, the bulldog returned with a brochure in his mouth.
"There you go," he said, dropping it in front of them. "That map lists all the major roads and buildings in Toontown. Anything else you need?"
Curious about the lack of officers, Greasy continued the conversation.
"Yeah. What was that you said about there being few officers around? Are you the only policeman?"
The bulldog groaned. "Just me and two others. No-one wants to be a Toon cop anymore! Ever since those weasel policemen schemed with that Toon judge..."
"Judge?" Greasy said nervously.
"Yeah. Judge Doom, his name was," the officer continued, "and he was a nightmare, I can tell you. He had a crazy plan to destroy Toontown, but he got killed by his own machine in the end. And then, not a year later, another gang of hoodlums managed to bribe an animator to bring him back to life! Doom and those weasels may not have accomplished much, but they certainly left their mark. No-one comes in here anymore."
"Really?" mumbled Greasy, sweat running down his forehead.
"Yeah. The pictures of those weasels are just on the wall over there, if you want to know what they looked like," the bulldog finished.
Sure enough, on the wall to their right were five large photos of them in their prime, shortly after their promotion by Judge Doom.
On Greasy's left, Wheezy gestured urgently towards the door with his head. Greasy nodded back at him before facing the bulldog.
"Well…um, thank you for that. We'll just be on our way then," he said, starting towards the exit.
The bulldog was confused towards their sudden departure. "Are you sure? Is everything alright?"
"Yes, yes, we'll be fine," Greasy babbled. "C'mon guys, we'd best be leaving," he said, grabbing onto a motionless Stupid and pulling him along. As he did, Stupid jerked in fright, sending Greasy's hat, precariously perched on his head, tumbling to the floor in front of the bulldog. Apart from his jacket, Stupid was now a complete match for the weasel pictured on the wall.
"Hang on…" the bulldog said, looking closely at Stupid and the others. "You look familiar…"
That was the last straw. The four weasels had been nervously shaking since they'd entered the building, but that final comment pushed them over the edge. Wheezy panicked first.
"We've been found out!" he shouted.
"Vamoose!" Greasy yelled.
The four weasels quickly turned tail and ran for the door, as the bulldog barked after them. Reaching the door, Greasy pulled on the door handle, only for a metal cage to fall from the ceiling and land on him and the others, trapping them completely. The weasels struggled to escape, but it was no use.
"I was right! You are the Toon Patrol, aren't you?" the bulldog said, calmly walking alongside the cage.
"Never heard of them," Wheezy said, trying to act calm.
"Come now, everyone in Toontown knows of the Toon Patrol!" the bulldog said "You didn't honestly think that the events at the Acme factory were tightly kept secrets?" He stopped along one side. "To tell you the truth, I expected better. If this really is the 'fearsome Toon Patrol', I might as well set you free. You're no threat at all."
Greasy's heart sank. There was no way out of this one. Just barely ten minutes back on earth and they'd already blown it. He looked at the bulldog, who now stood in front of him. "What are you going to do with us?"
The bulldog frowned. "I'm not sure. I could just throw you in jail." A calculating look suddenly flashed across his face. "But I think that would be a waste of a cell. Tell me, you were good officers before you met Doom, weren't you?" he enquired.
"What's it to you?" Greasy retorted.
The bulldog continued. "If you were 'good officers', I might just have a job for you."
"And why would we work for you?" Greasy snapped.
"Because if you don't, I'll just throw you in jail," the bulldog replied in a bored tone.
"You don't scare us, copper." Wheezy suddenly said. "No prison can hold us for long. We'll be back on the streets in an hour."
A grin spread across the officer's face. "Maybe, but once word gets out on the streets that the weasels that nearly destroyed Toontown are back in the city, I doubt it'll be long before you'll be fugitives in your own home."
Greasy snarled in response. He didn't like being forced to do anything against his will, but it didn't look like he really had any option. He glared at the bulldog, who sat before them with a smug look on his face. "What do you want us to do then?"
The bulldog smiled. "Simple. I desperately need new officers on my force, and you need to survive in this new world. You used to be officers here, you don't need any training. And if I recall correctly, the group of you had a pretty good criminal record prior to the Cloverleaf incident. Basically, I want you to work as officers here. And, if you behave, I'll help you clear your names, and prove that you're no threat to Toontown anymore. Is it a deal?"
Greasy pondered what the officer had said. By all accounts, they should have been on their way to the big house a minute ago, and yet, they'd just been offered their old jobs back. Greasy looked at Wheezy, who was equally confused. But in the end, Greasy thought, he'd go back to working for the police than go to jail any day, so he nodded. The others followed suit. The bulldog clapped his paws together.
"Great!" he said. He pressed a button, and the cage disappeared into the ceiling. The four weasels began to pick themselves off the ground. "All your old gear is in storeroom fifteen; you can pick it up whenever you like."
"Exactly what is 'our old gear'?" Wheezy asked suspiciously, climbing to his feet.
"Assorted weapons, paint, some old newspapers, and a paddy wagon," The bulldog listed. "After the Cloverleaf Incident, we impounded every scrap of evidence linked to the case for use at the trial. It didn't get used, and none of us felt like cleaning it out, so it's been sitting there for…I dunno, the last sixty years?"
Wheezy promptly choked on one of his cigarettes in surprise, prompting Stupid to grab him from behind and squeeze him, in an unsuccessful attempt to help. Psycho leapt into the air with glee. Greasy struggled to stand. He didn't know what to think. He wasn't exactly friendly towards the officer, who had nearly signed death warrants for each of them, but after he'd returned all their belongings…well, at least he wasn't planning to come after him anymore. The bulldog continued, not noticing their various reactions to the news.
"You officially start work now, but you can take the day off so you can get the hang of things around town. I'll call you over the radio if I need you to do anything. By the way, which one of you is the leader? Is it you?" he said, pointing at Greasy.
"No, it's-"Greasy stopped himself, a sad look on his face. None of the other weasels bothered to finish the sentence. The bulldog saw this and quickly changed the subject.
"Never mind, there's plenty of time to sort that out. Well, that's pretty much everything, so, carry on then!"
He turned and headed back towards his desk, stopping halfway and turning back.
"Oh, and a final word of advice. Clean the ash off your face. You look ridiculous". Psycho and Stupid laughed at an embarrassed Greasy, as the officer walked away, leaving the four weasels in the empty hallway. After a moment, Greasy spoke to them all.
"Well, you heard him. Let's get our stuff and go."
Greasy picked his hat off the floor, and the four of them walked out of the Police Station.