“And venom, don’t forget the venom,” Polo piped up.
“Right, the venom,” Marco agreed.
Oscar gave a tentative shrug.“Well, we don’t want to jump to any conclusions. They’re probably all just fine.”
“Who’s probably just fine?” A voice came from the kitchen. A lip-smacky voice that sounded like it was talking with its mouth full. Chad.
Chad was an octopus who lived on the eighth floor. He was an original member of both their heisting gang and investigative team. He visited the apartment a lot, but he sometimes seemed more interested in the contents of Mrs. Food’s refrigerator than their company.
“Guess what, Chad!” Polo said, waving at him. “You’re a spy now! We’re doing secret spy investigating these days. We’ve retired from regular investigating,” she added, nodding significantly at Oscar. That retired part seemed to be important to him.
“Call it whatever you want,” Chad said as he sucked down the last of the herring snacks. “My price has gone up. I’m working for shrimp these days.”
“Fine,” Oscar said. “One question. Have you heard anything about monsters with slavering jaws at the loading dock?”
Chad snorted.“You mean the rats?”
Oscar frowned.“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then no,” Chad said.
“Have you heard ANYTHING about the loading dock?” Marco asked, his eyes narrowed. Past experience had taught him to be skeptical about Chad’s answers. Because sometimes he didn’t tell you the truth unless you asked the question in exactly the right way.
“I’ve heard something about monsters with slavering jaws,” Chad said, chucking the herring-snack jar into the recycling bin.
“But you said—” Marco started.
“Who’d you hear that from?” Polo asked, folding her arms suspiciously.
“You guys,” Chad smirked. “Just now.”
“CHAD!” Polo stomped her foot.
Chad gurgled with laughter and then slid down into the sink.“If you need any spy work done, you know my rates.”
Oscar shook his head as Chad disappeared.“And the sad thing is we’ll need him. Can we even get shrimp?”
“I can add it to Mrs. Food’s grocery delivery,” Walt said, stretching. “Okay, so who’s up for dealing with the monsters? We should go tonight, right?”
“Oh. We?” Oscar said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I just assumed the rats were going to do that. Right?”
Marco and Polo exchanged a worried glance.“You want us to… with the slavering…” Polo said hesitantly.
“By ourselves?” Marco asked.
“That just makes sense, right?” Oscar said. He didn’t quite meet their eyes. “Since you have the vents?”
“Sure, but…” Polo nudged Marco in the ribs.
“I mean, maybe we should stay here? We don’t want to hog all the spy work,” Marco said, wringing his hands anxiously.
“Yeah. And we went last night, sooo…” Polo said.
“I don’t mind if you hog it,” Oscar said. “I hate to ruin your fun.”
“Yeah, but…” Polo tried to think of a counter argument.
“But we did a really lousy job of passing the message, remember?” Marco said quickly.
“We almost ruined everything,” Polo agreed. “So maybe you should check it out, Oscar? So we don’t mess it up.”
“I see your point,” Oscar said slowly. “But you know my feet aren’t good in the vents. We need a more stealthy presence. Walt, maybe you…?”
Walt sniffed.“Well, I mean, I COULD, but—”
“I’ll go!” Butterbean said. “I’ll need help getting out of the apartment, but I’ll go down there. I can do some monster therapy. It’ll be good practice. I’ve got my test coming up.”
Walt shook her head.“Not a good idea. What about Wallace? Maybe he could check it out?”
“Maybe Wallace could check what out?” Wallace asked, strolling into the living room. He was eating a chunk of banana, and he waved it in the air. “Free banana, right there in the dish! My new apartment is awesome.”
“We’re talking about the loading dock. Have you heard anything about monsters there? Dripping venom and whatnot?” Polo said.
“Glowing eyes and slavering jaws,” Marco added.
“Um, nooooo,” Wallace said, lowering the banana. He suddenly seemed to have lost his appetite. “Do they have those there?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Have the loading dock rats said anything?” Polo asked.
“I haven’t seen them lately,” Wallace said slowly. Then he gasped. “IS THAT WHY? DID MONSTERS GET THE LOADING DOCK RATS?” He leaned against the edge of the sofa heavily. He’d been so involved in fixing up his new apartment that he hadn’t even thought to check in with his friends. And now they’d been eaten. It was all his fault.
“We don’t know that, Wallace,” Oscar said quietly.
“It’s just a possibility,” Polo said. “They might not have been eaten.”
“Yet,” Marco added.
“That’s why I’m going down there. To check it out,” Butterbean added. “As soon as it gets dark.”
“No you’re not,” Walt said quickly. She didn’t trust Butterbean down there by herself. She didn’t think there really were monsters, exactly, but whatever was down there could be dangerous. There was no telling what Butterbean might do. “You’re not going, Bean.”
“Except I am,” Butterbean insisted.
Walt gritted her teeth.“Then we’re all going.”
“Um, I don’t think…” Oscar started.
“WE’RE ALL GOING,” Walt said again.
“Yes. We’re all going,” Oscar said, snapping his beak shut. He’d learned not to argue when Walt got that tone in her voice. Besides, there was safety in numbers. Surely the monsters couldn’t eat them all.
“So we’re just doing a quick check?” Oscar said after Madison and Mrs. Food had gone to bed. “We’ll just pop down to the loading dock, have a quick look around, and then come right back. Just to put Biscuit’s mind at ease. Agreed?”
It had already been a tense night in the apartment. Madison, in particular, had been in a bad mood since she came home from school. She was still irritated at Walt and Butterbean and showed it by glaring pointedly at them whenever they crossed her path.
From what Butterbean understood, she’d gotten a tardy, which was bad, like getting whacked on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, except without the newspaper part. Or the whacking. To be honest, Butterbean didn’t really understand.
Butterbean had tried to make amends, though, by licking any exposed skin that she could find whenever Madison went past. But it had been hours before Madison started to soften up. The last thing they wanted to do was get into more trouble.
Butterbean wrinkled her nose.“Agreed.”
“Unless we need to do some monster fighting,” Marco said. “Then it’ll take a little longer. Should we bring weapons?” Not that they had any weapons to bring, but it seemed like something they should consider.
Oscar shook his head. He wasn’t planning on any monster fighting. “We might need to reassess once we see what we’re up against. But this is just a reconnaissance mission.” He paused significantly. “Since we’re spies.”
“Oooohhh, right,” Polo said. “Reconnaissance.”
“Reconnaissance, so that means we’ll just be snooping around?” Marco asked. “No weapons?”
“Right, no weapons,” Oscar said. “Well, except for Walt.”
“Anything goes wrong and I’ll go for eyes,” Walt said. Going for the eyes was her go-to attack method.
“Good. Now as soon as Wallace gets here, we can…” Oscar trailed off as he stared in the direction of the couch. Four sets of eyes turned to see what he was looking at. And four sets of jaws dropped simultaneously.
Wallace stood next to the sofa. He blushed when he saw them looking and struck a fashion-type pose.“Hi, guys! What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Oscar was dumbfounded. He didn’t even have words to describe what he was seeing.
“What are you WEARING? Are those CLOTHES?” Walt said, squinting her eyes, as if that might change things.