“You dirty Bubblebellys always lookin down y’noses at us,” Horace said in the gloom of the darkening barn. “Always look’ at us Baddieburrs like we’s nothing. Like we ain’t for being ‘round civilized folks. You was neighborly! You treated us like trash the wind swept inna' yer yard! But we AIN’T trash! WE AIN’T TRASH! An’ you got no right t’do what you did?”

“Ohhhh?” asked Billy Bubblebelly. Although the mouse hung by his wrists from the rafters of his barn, shirtless and whipped, with a slowly growing pool of blood beneath his dangling feet, he seemed perfectly at ease. As though he were in complete control of the situation.

His calm demeanor Horace.

“Say it! Say what you done, Bubblebelly! Say what you done, gum-dangit! CONFESS!”

“Okay,” Billy said amicably. “I confess. I killed your boy. I killed Scooter.”

“You admit it!” shouted Horace. “You admit it—

“I do,” Billy continued. “I do admit it. I found him in the dark of the woods, pining away o’er that hussy he’d been set to marry. Saw him shedding tears and bawling his sweet little heart out. And it a heart, Horace, it was! Know how I know? Because when I was done peeling away at him, when I had slaked my lust for his screams, when he had not the breath remaining to so much as gurgle a final plea for mercy, I dug that beating heart out of his chest an’ I ate it beneath the light of the moon!”

“You…,” Horace whispered.

“Horace, it was You Baddieburr bug-slurpers got some on you, boy! AHAHAHAHA!”

Horace began whipping him again, his blows made frenzied by the mockery in Billy’s laughter. “Why you done it, why you done it, WHY YOU DONE IT?” he screeched madly.

That was when Billy stopped laughing.

“You ask me why? Horace Baddieburr, you DARE ask me why?”

Horace trembled at the sight of that red-eyed gaze. Scotty looked at his father in confusion.

“Daddy, what’s he mean? What’s this crazy mouse talking about?”

Scotty. That’s good, that’s good! Ask him! Ask him what he done to my wife an’ my oldest girl!” Encouraged Billy.

“What? Daddy? Daddy, what does he mean?”

“Scooter had nothing to do with this!” Horace shouted.

who share your blood, share your guilt!” smiled the crazed Billy Bubblebelly. “None of you shall be spared! Why, to even so much as a Baddieburr is a betrayal of what’s right! Why’d you think I had to take my blade to poor Miss Lydia? Because she was irrevocably tainted by the affection she shared with your bastard boy! It was

“Daddy, what did you moaned poor Scotty.

“He killed my wife an’ he killed my child, an’ he hid behind the law because he was too much of a coward to stand up and ‘fess to what he done, Scotty. That’s why Lydia an’ your brother died. That’s why you an’ him are gonna’ die too. ‘Cause it’s

“He hid behind the law?” Scotty asked.

“Oink-oink,” snickered Patrolman Pig, as he entered the barn, dragging Lucy along with him, who he promptly threw to the floor. “Horace, why are you dragging this out? Kill this crazy thing and let’s be gone from here. That fire will soon draw attention.”

“NO! He ain’t begged for mercy yet!” Horace seethed.

“Horace, does it look like this nutbar is gonna’ be apologizing anytime soon? Git some sense into yer head! You wanted to know why he killed yer boy, now you know. Finish him off so we can be done with this!”

“I said , Piggy! We do this my way! T’was my son he stole from me, so I’m the one who says what goes! And this mad mouse is gonna’ BEG for my mercy!”

“Dog-DAMNIT, Horace, you always got to be in charge, don’t ya?” sighed Patrolman Pig. “Always tryin’ to put yourself up over everyone. That’s why no one can stand ya! Not even yer own kin! No wonder Missus Bubblebelly laughed so hard at you when you propositioned her.”

“Piggy, SHUT your mouth!” warned Horace.

“Billy deserves t’know! Even Lucy here deserves t'know! That’s why your mama had to die, Sweetie,” Pig said to Lucy.

“Horace here got day-drunk like his loser ass has a habit o' doin’ and went walking along outside. Up by the creek, he saw your pretty mama playin’ with your sister, and had him an urge to do somethin’ naughty! But when he invited her to partake of himself, she laughed at him like the old, dirty fool he was!”

“I said SHUT UP, Pig!” Horace said in a louder, angrier voice.

“Horace’s pride wouldn’t let him take that laughter, no sir! So, he grabbed your mama an ‘drowned her in the waters of that creek! Them same waters like to play in, Little Lucy! And when your sister tried to run away, he chased her down and did the same thing to her!”

Patrolman Pig shook his head sadly at the foolishness of it all. “Now, technically, I didn’t do nothing, except cover it up. Me and Horace go back a'ways, after all. I couldn’t let my old friend go to the kennel over some mouse hoor an’ her spawn. So, I reported it as an accident, and I made sure that story stuck.”

“No, no, no, no!” said Lucy, as she wildly shook her head. “This can’t be so! It can’t! All of you are…are….”

“Ah, hell, mouse girl. Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing! This is just the way the grownup world works…not that you’ll ever experience it yerself!” chuckled the pig.

Patrolman Pig turned his head back to Horace and said, “I’ll take care of this one, an’ you finish off her daddy.”

“Not until , damn it! You’re not in charge here, piggy! You’re not in charge here—

The roar of a discharged stinger shot rang throughout the air, and a hole opened in Horace’s throat. Horace clamped a paw over this new wound then raised it to stare in puzzlement at his now crimson-stained palm. When his gaze turned to Patrolman Pig, his expression was one of immense surprise.

“Hrghgrghrghr?” he asked before falling flat on his back, dead.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAADDY!" shrieked Scotty, who ran to embrace his suddenly desceased father.

“I was git’n sick of you bossin’ me around, anyway, badger,” the pig said with a sneer.

“HE WASN’T YOURS TO TAKE,” roared Billy Bubblebelly. “Filthy pig, he was mine, he was mine, HE WAS MINE—”

Three more shots rang out and tore through Billy’s body. He jerked and spasmed as each awful impact tore away at his flesh. Then he too hung still, now quite dead.

“No, was yours to take, you dumb bastard!” hissed Patrolman Pig. “Oh, I’m good and tire’d of people blabbing they mouths and tellin’ me what do to! Next fool runs their gums, they get a stinger in the face, you hear me? GOLL-EE. All this damn drama! this doggone DRAMA!”

“If you didn’t want to see dramatic things, you should never have joined the force,” barked an angry voice from behind him.

“C-chief? Chief is that you?” asked the Pig.

“Drop that Bee-bee gun, Patrolman. Drop it or I’ll bury you like a bone in the backyard!” commanded Detective Dachshund.

“Chief, Chief, you don’t understand. Ya got it all wrong!”

“My nose doesn’t get much wrong, Pig. We Dachshunds are I smelled your stink all over poor Carrot’s body. Your friends in high places ain’t getting you out of this one, Curly Sue.”

“Chief, I you got it wrong!”

“A cop killer like you is going to have a time in the Kennel; but it won’t stop there, murderer! I’ll see to it that one day they’ll put you to sleep, like the bad, piggy you are!”

“I ain’t going to no kennel! Ain’t no one putting this pig to sleep!” Patrolman Pig shouted angrily.

“That’s fine by me, Porky. I’ll happily put a stinger in your fat ass. Keep that steel in your hand, and let’s see who’s faster. I’ll even give you a count! You ready? One! Two! Thr—

“Three,” said a horrible, dry voice. Between Detective Dachshund and Patrolman Pig, bounced Scotty’s head, ripped cleanly from his body. It bounced two times and came to a stop at Pig’s feet.

“What in the name of the hot, hot spot?” Patrolman Pig said.

And then Billy Bubblebelly was on him.

Faster than he could think, blink, or scream, Billy’s claws were in Pig’s mouth, getting a firm grip on his tongue. “You spoke a lot of cruel words today, Officer Piggy. But now, you’ll never speak another word again!”

And then the air was filled with this horrid squelching sound of wet flesh being ripped free.

“Sweeeeee! Squealed the pig, as his blood ran freely down his mouth, gushing red liquid like a broken faucet. He dropped his weapon and desperately tried to stem the bleeding. Then, Billy’s paws gripped the side of his head and began to press inward with unrelenting force.

“They’re waiting for you down below,. Oh, and they have sights to show you! Say hello for me, hmmm?” Billy said. Then he crushed Patrolman Pig’s head into mushy pulp. After letting the body drop, he slowly licked his fingers and ran them all across his face.

“P-papa? Papa? I thought you was bumblin’ dead!” cried Lucy. She began to run to her father’s waiting arms but was suddenly cut off by the detective, who regarded Billy with a deep growl.

“What have you done to yourself, Billy Bubblebelly?” he asked.

“I did what any grieving family man would,” said the thing that was once Billy Bubblebelly. “I went into the deepest, darkest parts of the woods, the places where we don’t go anymore; the places we dread to even remember. I went there with my heart so filled with helpless grief, and I found a in that dark place. A voice that told me what happened to my family, and how I could have my vengeance!”

“Billy, you crazed fool! There’s always a price to be paid for such power! What did the voice ask for in exchange?” asked Detective Dachshund.

Billy wouldn’t answer him. He refused to meet the Dachshund's stern gaze. But he did stare meaningfully at the weeping face of his daughter.

Detective Dachshund was disgusted.

“You dog! Your own daughter, Billy? Your own doggone ”

“Papa?” whispered Lucy.

“You wouldn’t have felt a thing, sweetie, I swear it. You wouldn’t have felt a thing! You’d be in heaven with our family, and we would have all been avenged! I was prepared to send you to them, when that bumble-blasted Max the axe came crashing down and hit my head before I could deliver the blow! But the dark ones were still kind to me…they still granted me their power! But if I want to continue my quest to cleanse Honeydew Meadow, I must seal my end of the bargain…

"Papa?"

"I’m sorry, Sweetie. But it won’t hurt…you’ll just feel a slight pinch and then you’ll be in paradise…”

Detective Dachshund was on him the instant he tried to touch the girl. Although Dachshunds were a small breed, they were still proud descendants of the terrier line. And there wasn’t a dog alive with terrier genes who’d let a mouse push him around, even if he were an undead, psychopathic, demon worshipping serial killer!

But Billy’s strength was being fed to him from the dark places of the world, and it was inexorable. Try as the Dachshund might, he couldn’t overcome that foul power. With relentless savagery, he was lifted into a fierce bear hug, one that squeezed and squeezed until something went

“Arrrgh! I’m so sorry, Lucy! It’s a typical weakness of my breed! We Dachshunds are notorious for our bad backs!”

“Oh, Detective, you to get away!” wept Lucy.

“It’s too late for me! But not for you! Go get help while I hold him off. I won’t show my belly to this

“Papa, stop! Please, Papa! Stop this! Stop this! Lucy begged. But the maniacal thing that was once her father refused to relent.

“Hey, Lucy! Hey, Billy! " cut in another voice. "Sorry, sorry, I got in the shed. Hey, what are we doing now? Oh, are we wrestling? I wanna' be Macho Man! Macho Man's COMIN' to GET YA, ….oh. . Hey, I didn’t do this. I didn’t do of this!”

It was Max!

__

” yelled Lucy as she ran to me.

“Hey, seriously! It wasn’t me; I didn’t kill anybody! I didn’t even mean to do in that owl, it was just flying overhead when I was practicing my takeoff, I’ve been I cried.

“Max, please, please! Stop my daddy! He’s gone rabid!”

“Wait, what? Billy did all of this? Daaaaamn, Billy!”

In response, Billy threw aside the cute l’il puppy in the trench coat (that I wanted to run over and play with and give scritches and bewwy wubs to) and gave me a sinister look.

“There you are, Max. Just in time to take all the blame.”

“Uhhhh, wut?” I asked.

“When I tell them it was an outsider who killed everyone here, they’ll believe me. We Bumblebellys have been good, honest folk living peacefully here in Honeydew Meadow for ten generations! Ain’t no one gonna’ doubt my word. I’m so grateful for you, Max. A more perfect patsy, I could never imagine! Now come here. Come to my arms, and let me

“Libby?” I called. “Hey, Libby? Is Billy Crazy?”

Hello, Max. Congratulations on your new name.

Thank you!

Which definition of are you currently seeking?

Uhh, the most appropriate one for our current situation.

Understood. Scanning…Yes. Yes, Billy is crazy. Out of his gourd. Batshit-Fucking-Ba-nay-nays.

Because he’s a spree-killing nutjob?

No, because he’s picking a fight with a Divine Weapon.

Oh. Okay, thank you, Libby! I appreciate that. Hey, I also appreciate Thanks for your help!

No trouble at all, Max.magic

I turned back to Billy.“Hey, Billy. Sorry, I just did a quick consultation. Hey, man, I really don’t like your odds here, and I feel like it would be in your best interests to back down before this situation escalates, okay? I mean, I’m not telling you what to do here, we’re both grownups and we can make our own decisions, but in all seriousness, it wouldn’t turn out well if you—well, Billy.”

Billy ran at me, screaming like a banshee, doing this weird glowing red eye thing while baring his blood drenched fangs at me, I mean it was I don’t want to go into too much detail about what happened next, because, sadly, his little girl was in the room and she saw everything that happened, but I had to protect myself, right? I mean, I was the one being attacked.

So, yeah, I basically turned old Billy into a bunch of meaty nonsense.

Campell beef stew was made of bits of meat!

And now Billy Bubblebelly was too.

Wow, look at her.

Lucy’s sitting on the ground, kinda’ staring blankly into space right now. But hey, kids are…kid’s bounce back, right? They have all those fresh stem cells and stuff, don’t they? She'll recover from what she saw today.

She’ll be

Besides, anyone who’s ever read Harry Potter knows that having two dead parents is Ice cream for dinner with no bedtime! Party at place? Lucy’s place!

Oh, right. Someone burned it down.

I’m sure she’ll figure something out.

Kids are

“Man, Libby! Did you see all that?”

I did. Regrettable choices were made by both sides.

Ha! You’re so silly. Billy was a bad guy, but I was here to stop him! The prophecy of the rhyming spider came true! I’m a…

Max, that wasn’t a prophecy, that spider was attempting to make you lower your guard so it could eat you.

…A

…I really do have limits, you know. There may come a time when even I will no longer be able to tolerate the sheer absurdity of your many delusions.

Ha! That’s my tough talking pal, Libby! She’s got a thorny exterior, folks, but she also has a heart of gold!

Max, I wasn’t joking.

Good ‘ol Libby! She's always ready to deliver a quip!

“Papa…Papa…” Lucy kept whimpering as she rocked forlornly on her haunches.

I think it was time to go.

The Dachshund was still breathing. And he was like an authority figure or whatever, right? Let him take over. I’m just an axe, you can’t really expect me to be some kid’s security blanket. And besides, I didn’t really like Lucy anymore, anyway. I hadn’t forgotten that she’d pinched me! Nearly cut her frickin’ head off over it!

I’m an axe, damn it! Treat me with respect! I'll kill you!

You know what? Honeydew Meadow really wasn’t what I thought it would be. I needed to be around my own kind. This had been an interesting experience, but the real lesson I learned today was that talking animals are stupid.

So farewell, oh strange, twisted little world of cartoonishly adorable little critters who boldly wear shirts, but not pants. May you one day solve your various issues with class inequality, racism, mental health, crime, and corruption, like we human beings did ages ago. Be more like us and less like yourselves!

Goodbye, Honeydew Meadow! Goodbye, Goodbye,

__

said a voice in the girl's mind.

Max had flown away hours ago, but Lucy had stayed in the barn, lost in her miserable thoughts. Desperately trying to remember happier times, times when both her parents had been alive. Times when it seemed that love and joy would never leave her life.

“I love you too, Papa.” she whispered.

“But Papa, I’m so small.”

To her right, Detective Dachshund struggled to breath. He hadn’t opened his eyes once, since her Papa hurt him.

“But Papa, isn’t it wrong?

Lucy picked up Patrolman Pig’s Bee-Bee gun. It still had a single round chambered in it. Then she looked at the helpless Detective Dachshund.

Eyes wide, hands trembling, Lucy did it.

Lucy made her choice.