Chapter 12

"I can pickthat lock in five seconds," Poutine announced, extending her claws and looking around to see if we were being watched.

My dame's cat burgling skills were hot.

It was the middle of the night. Thankfully no one was up and there were no humans wandering around.

"I'll time you," Blythe said, conjuring up a stopwatch.

The brand new Assjacket pokey was at the far end of Main Street. It was as non-descript and rundown as the exterior of every other building in town. However, the inside was a magical fortress. Zelda and Sassy had warded the building and the bars on the cells to ensure that no one could escape. Hopefully, this was going to be a piece of cake. And while I was busting groundhog chops, I was going to get Sturgill's sac back. The bear was still nardless. That fact drove me nuts. A man's giblets were sacred—even if he was a bear made of stone.

"Three seconds," Blythe said as the lock popped and Poutine opened the door. "New record."

"Are there alarms on the building?" Annie Surely asked, wielding a set of wire cutters.

"Nope," Boba said, waddling through the door. "Don't need no alarms. Zelda and Sassy warded the joint."

Fucking Derrick was beside himself with glee, hopping around like he had to take a leak.

"Youse good?" I asked him as I followed my posse into the pokey.

"Oh yes!" he said. "I'm just so excited to have a playdate."

I shook my head and laughed. Fucking Derrick was a piece of work.

"Fat Bastard," Jango Fett called out. "Weese have a little situation here."

I didn't like the sound of that and neither did Fucking Derrick. Blowing fire out of his nose, the little troll zipped ahead of me. I was right on his heels.

The sight I saw was not good. Not f-ing good at all.

Poutine's tail twitched in distress. Annie Surely scribbled notes while hissing and snarling. Blythe stared in disbelief. Boba and Jango paced and muttered. I said a few choice words, including some I'd just learned from the troll. Only Fucking Derrick was calm, cool and collected.

"They dug their way out," Poutine said, pointing at the hole in the middle of the cell floor.

"Zelda must have missed warding the floors," Jango pointed out.

I shook my head and contemplated our next move. "Sassy did the floors," I said. "And don't nobody say nothin' to her about this. She'll be so upset, dat the broad will blow up the whole town. Youse feel me?"

Everyone nodded and mentally plotted and planned.

"Wadda weese gonna do now?" Boba asked. "Dem groundhogs could be anywhere."

Glancing around, I closed my eyes and tried to think. There was no way I could fit my fat ass in that hole and go after the thieving groundhogs. The future of all magic was on the line and my butt was too big to do anything about it.

"May I make a suggestion?" Fucking Derrick inquired.

"Does it involve youse losin' your shit?" I asked. "Cause weese don't have time for dat."

The troll giggled. "Oh no, my last tantrum should hold me for at least another hour."

"Oh my Goddess," Poutine said under her breath, swallowing back a laugh.

"Go ahead, tiny dude," I said. "Tell us what youse got."

"I, Fucking Derrick, will go hole diving and find Goober, the cross-eyed asshole," the troll announced, squeezing his little body between the bars of the cell and getting electrocuted.

Everyone cringed and gasped as the idiot fried himself. The sound was freaking awful, but the troll just shrugged it off and gave us the okay sign.

"Dat had to hurt," Jango said with a shudder. "Youse are insane. My kind of guy."

It was a little weird to hear the troll speak about himself in third person, but I was going with it. The foul-mouthed freak was a brave amigo. Half of his beard got singed right off his ugly mug when he squished himself into the cell. It smelled almost as bad as Boba's earlier anal explosion.

"Holy shit!" I said, holding my nose. "Are youse okay, little man?"

"I'm fine," Fucking Derrick yelled, pumping his tiny fists over his head in victory. "I think I might have lost some facial hair. Do I look okay?"

"Is dat a trick question?" I asked, not sure which way to go here.

"You look like a lovely, brave troll," Poutine quickly said, so I didn't offer up that he was as fugly as he'd always been.

"Thank you," Fucking Derrick said, blushing. "I love having friends. It's so nice knowing people I don't want to kill."

I nodded. "I can see how dat would appeal."

Waving my paw, I conjured up a magical GPS and two transmitters. If Fucking Derrick was going in the hole, we were gonna have his back above ground.

"Wait," Boba said, pulling on his whiskers. "What if dem groundhogs are still in the hole and they hurt Fuckin' Derrick. I don't like dat."

"Me neither," Jango said. "I'm still a little on the fence about F-in' Derrick in general, but I don't want no groundhog to mess with our boy."

The troll cried out with delight and put his tiny hands over his heart. His wide smile almost made him look cute. Almost.

"I am moved more than you will ever know that you fabulous cats care about my wellbeing. This has never occurred in all my years," he said as tears formed in his crazy purple eyes. "But worry not, my fat friends. If I come across the groundhogs, I shall eat them."

"Da fuck?" Boba asked, squinting in shock at Fucking Derrick.

"Youse can do dat?" I asked with a gag. "Youse can eat six groundhogs?"

"Oh yes!" Fucking Derrick said, waving his hands like it was no big deal. "Not my usual style at all, but in an emergency like this, I can eat at least ten."

There was a full minute of appalled silence as we digested the unappetizing method.

"Umm… we can always hope that they're not in the hole," Poutine pointed out with a wince.

"From your mouth to the Goddess's ears," I said, sliding a transmitter under the bars for the troll. "Put dat on youse. We'll be able to track your movement and follow youse. Maybe swallow it. Dat way, it can't fall out of the pocket of your gauchos."

Fucking Derrick sucked in a breath through his teeth and shook his little head. "I can't swallow that. I have a gag reflex."

"Are youse shittin' me?" I asked. "Youse just said youse can eat ten groundhogs, but youse can't swallow a tiny transmitter?"

"I know," he said, shrugging. "Crazy, right?"

"Can you suck it up your nose?" Poutine asked.

"Oh no, no, no," Fucking Derrick said. "That would be much worse. I'm quite concerned that my nostril fire would destroy the transmitter and it would be useless."

I exhaled a deep breath and adjusted my giggleberries. I couldn't believe what I was about to suggest, but we were wasting time and we didn't have that luxury at the moment.

"Fine. Youse can't swallow it and youse can't snort it. If youse lose it, weese are screwed."

I glanced over at Boba, Jango, Poutine, Annie Surely and Blythe. All eyes were huge, including mine. My people knew where I was about to go, and they were terrified. The last time I'd made a similar suggestion to Fucking Derrick, he'd cried and threw a twenty-minute tantrum. It was a risk, but I had to take it. Our futures depended on it.

"Fuckin' Derrick," I said, trying to word my request as delicately as possible. "If I ask youse somethin', can youse promise me youse won't lose your shit?"

"Youse might wanna rephrase dat," Boba suggested.

"My bad," I said in agreement with Boba. "If I make a suggestion, do youse promise not to blow fireballs and have a psycho tantrum?"

"I do," Fucking Derrick said. "If that's what it takes to have friends then I will commit to it, Fat Bastard. Ask away!"

"Okay," I said, nodding for everyone to take cover just in case. "How would youse feel about shovin' the transmitter up your ass? It wouldn't get lost dat way and weese could track youse."

Fucking Derrick threw his tiny hands in the air and laughed like he was unhinged. It was nightmare inducing.

"Already did it," he squealed. "When you were trying to figure out how to ask me, I took that little metal nugget and shoved it right up my ass! I'm good to go."

"Alrighty den," I said with a pained chuckle. "Weese will be right above youse the entire time. Hopefully, youse won't have to eat nothin'. But if youse do, spare Goober. Weese need to shake dat slimy groundhog down for info."

"Will do," Fucking Derrick said. "Won't eat Goober. Got it."

Poutine walked over to the cell and bowed to the troll. "Thank you, Fucking Derrick. We are in your debt."

"Nah," he said. "This is the best day of my life. I've never had friends. I owe you."

She shook her head and smiled. Then she froze. "Wait. Do you have any idea why women rub their eyes in the morning?" she asked the tiny man.

"Of course," Fucking Derrick said. "Everyone knows that a woman rubs her eyes in the morning because she doesn't have balls to scratch!"

"Dat's it!" I shouted, feeling light-headed. "The magic dat holds Assjacket together is Sturgill's dong pillow. Dem groundhogs stole his gangoolies because they knew it would destroy the glamour."

"Brilliant!" Poutine said.

"Not following," Fucking Derrick said, looking confused.

"Doesn't matter." My adrenaline spiked. "Go hole divin' for dem groundhogs. Weese have a set of nards to find, my friend."

Never in a million years did I think that wrinkled grapes would be the key to the magical Universe, but I never thought I would call someone named Fucking Derrick my friend either.

Life was full of surprises—good, bad and seriously profane.