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Chapter 2

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7:28 a.m.  When we arrived at the woman's house, we saw the C.I.D.F. and Super C had got there first.  We saw there was indeed sea foam green CNG inside the clear Tupperware container that was left behind, but what we couldn't determine was if they fled, or if they left it behind on purpose so that the lady would open the container.  As it happens, she did neither.  She was too scared to even look at it, let alone open it.  Instead, she was looking at her phone to see why it deleted the C.I.D.F. app when it updated.  "Might have been just a glitch," she said as she began to download it again.  "I still have the G-52 app."

"Probably," said Super C.  "They're two different apps; they don't both work on the same app."

"So you said the two were arguing about the new TBTC policy?" I continued so that the Cat of Steel could get caught up on the scenario.

"Yes."  She turned to Super C and mentioned what she told me.

"That doesn't surprise me," he lamented.  "The global CNG crisis has revealed to us that TBTC is a global organization.  Yet the only country whose population they want to see permanently go down to zero is the United States of America.  We can't get them to understand that if we die, the world dies with us.  The world would not exist without us."

"I know that and you know that."

"Were you able to call the regular police, or did somebody else beat you to it?" I asked.

"Sadly, it's none of the above," she said.  "They were out here arguing for a bit, but by the time I went to check it out, they were gone.  I worry about what this will do to me, because I hear how unpredictable CNG can be."

"It is, but because it has a conscience, it decided to start making itself a bit more predictable because it sees the world is getting tired of it," Super C replied.  "It still wants to eradicate all of humanity, but it thinks it has to reward the good as well as punish the bad, and it always punishes those smuggling it if innocent lives are affected."

"Is that why people are forever stuck as animals?"

"One of the reasons why.  Why do you ask?"

"It happened to my husband."  The lady showed us some photos of her and her husband when he was still a human being.  Now he was a big, muscular timberwolf, and Super C recongized him (both as a human and as a wolf) from being one of his top gym patrons.  "I think he just celebrated five years at my flagship gym," he commented.  "Are you planning on joining, by chance, or do you go to a different gym?"

"No, I've already got a membership with Atlas Fitness."  (Atlas Fitness has been a direct rival to Wildcat Power Gyms, of which our friend Estevao, once a terrorist and now a Portuguese UN1024, is the CEO.  At least I still think he is, because Super C succesfully convinced him to open his gyms in Wildcat City when he mentioned all the buffets in town were going out of business, unless it was a pizza chain such as CiCi's Pizza, and the properties were going up for sale.)

"Oh.  Well, you're still working out.  That's the most important thing.  Oh, and by the way, what color CNG turned your husband into a wolf?"

"I think it was gray."

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8:33 a.m.  We arrived back at HQ to show the evidence we had collected so far to the rest of the force, and Chief Crosmond was scratching his head.  "I don't remember there being sea foam green CNG before," he said, "but I want it destroyed at all costs.  Then again, that is the C.I.D.F.'s job, isn't it?"

"It is," I said, "but we still need to know if there's more of it being left in clear Tupperware containers, or clear containers of any sight.  If I were them, and I'm glad I'm not, I wouldn't be using clear containers; I'd be using other containers to keep the item hidden."

"A good point; TBTC terrorists are lower than the old version of Bendraqi."  Chief Crosmond wasn't saying that to be hateful; he just told the truth.  "But do you know if that was done on purpose?  I mean about leaving it in the container."

"I"m not sure, but my guess the terrorists wanted her to open the container and have it kill or otherwise do something unpredictable to her.  She said her husband was an unintentional victim of gray CNG in the past, and as a result, he permanently changed from a human being to a timberwolf."

"That's another reason I want it all gone.  I don't want to see humans disappear forever."

"Neither do we."  We continued working on the case, and we also visited the lady's husband to see that he was indeed a big, muscular timberwolf that could easily be mistaken for a Drumbum, but he didn't play a musical instrument.  He had, however, served 15 years in the U.S. Navy, even though he didn't hold a grudge against the Army.  (He said this because as a kid, he didn't understand why the two branches were rivals, especially in football, when both of them did the world a service.)  We made sure to thank him for his service, and Super Tom also sent him messages of thanks and encouragement.

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Tuesday, 9:01 a.m.  We were getting more reports about TBTC terrorists leaving sea foam green CNG in clear Tupperware containers, further showing they really were the dumbest of the dumbest, and half the town started weeping (literally) upon discovering that it even happened to Cripto.  (His relatives were not crying, I should point out.) Naturally, we drove by his place to ask him about it.  Andrew and I were joined by the Chief, the Sheriff (David Crackshot), and his deputy (Jack Sharpshooter), as well as Super C.

"If there was a ruckus, I didn't hear anything," he said, "because when the pink kind of CNG decided it would make me totally 100% immune to it, it also made my whole house entirely soundproof.  That might be more dangerous than it sounds.  I do have security cameras installed to help me see if and when there are suspicious people about whenever I don't have the dome above my house.  But I didn't have the dome up."

"Can we see that footage?" I asked him.

"Sure thing; just let me get the dome up first."  Cripto set the dome in motion to raise above his house in response to hearing thunder and lightning, and it was getting stormy outside.  With the dome up, however, his yards and any flowers he was planting would get the proper amount of water, but no more.  That way, the plants wouldn't die from too much water.

We walked inside to watch the footage, and it was roughly about 1:19 a.m. when we could see two more TBTC terrorists arguing over the CNG.  From what we could make out, one guy insisted that the CNG should be taken out so that it could do damage to the house.  The other one insisted that it should be left in the container, because he thought Cripto's autism would make him so gullible, he'd go for it.  (Cripto publicly shares his conditions with the public because he campaigns for autism to be seen as a difference, not a disease.)

"Is your house 100% immune to the CNG effects, or just you?" I asked.

"That I don't know," he replied as the C.I.D.F. arrived to collect the sea foam green CNG.  "I don't want anything to happen to my house."

"I don't blame you."

Through it all, we at least were able to determine that there was a pattern of people leaving behind sea foam green CNG.  We were just going to have to do some nighttime investigating before we could apprehend these crooks and make them confess, considering they always did these things in the middle of the night.

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TO BE CONTINUED