Yeein' On That 'Haw

Nah, It Doesn't Count As Terrorism

The first window yielded nothing useful. Inside was what seemed to be a lounge or clubroom for groups to rent out. It had obviously not been used or cleaned in ages, evidenced by the cobwebs decorating nearly every surface. The next window proved to be a bit more favorable: a kitchen of sorts, perfectly clean counters and cabinets lining the walls topped by containers filled with cooking utensils and decorative ornaments. It maintained the purple theming of the rest of the building, and many framed photos of the Mayor had been placed around the room. Talk about an ego.

I silently prayed that I wouldn't have to break the window, and sure enough, it had been left unlocked. I pushed it upward and climbed inside, shutting the window behind me so my path would be more difficult to track if I was found to no longer be in Mingus's office. My optical sensors tracked down the largest kitchen knife they could find, which I swiftly grabbed and inspected. It was sharp, which was a good thing, but I was also one of the clumsiest motherfuckers on the planet, so I had to be careful with it.

I nearly leapt out of my skin when I heard speech emitting from just beyond the wooden door to the kitchen. Straining my sound processors, I made out two voices, both sounding rather familiar. As soon as I was able to make out their words, I gritted my teeth to avoid groaning at the realization that it was the two weapon-headed mobsters that attacked Norm and I before fleeing in the patented Mayor Mingus Chevrolet. I couldn't quite remember their names, but honestly, I doubted they could remember their own.

The two mobsters were painfully incompetent, of course, but even with that in mind, I wasn't confident in my ability to fight both of them off. So if they were coming this way, I had to find somewhere to hide. I looked around the room and found nothing more than a cupboard I would barely fit into, so I began looking up. My gaze landed on a large air vent– the kind that only show up in video games when they are most convenient, and are coincidentally comedically large enough for the player character to fit inside of, even though those kinds of vents would never exist in real life.

Whatever, I wasn't one to ignore a fateful coincidence. I darted over to the wall and climbed on top of the closest counter to the vent before hurriedly dislodging its cover and pushing it inside. With some effort, I managed to push myself up and into the vent, turn around, and prop the cover up to make it seem like it hadn't been disturbed.

I wasn't going to stick around to find out if the two mobsters were entering the kitchen. I turned around and began crawling my way through the cramped, dusty-ass ventilation system. There was a constant, dull fear that I was making too much noise and would alert somebody to my presence, but if there was one thing I knew about stealth games, it was that enemies never heard you sneaking around in the vents.

One thing that I noticed while crawling through the vents was that they were connected to the entire Town Hall. I passed more clubrooms, closets, hallways, hell, even through the bathrooms. I occasionally spotted a familiar character– I even saw Little Billy once. I don't think I've ever been that terrified in my life. I could have sworn he saw me, but if he did, he decided to be merciful and ignore my presence.

Finally, after turning a corner, I heard a voice I had been listening for this whole time: Norm. His drawl was unmistakable, and while I couldn't make out a word he was saying, he sounded pissed. I picked up speed, hearing my battered knees and the knife I held in one hand slamming into the steel I was crawling on at an even louder volume. I eventually made it to what I assumed was the entrance hall, and located a vent cover I could look out of.

And there they were, Norm and Mayor Mingus, engaged in a heated argument. Mingus's fur was standing on end, her tail flicking back and forth, conveying her bloodlust. Norm had already drawn his revolver from its holster and had its aim trained on the feline. Despite the rest of his body language representing a calm demeanor and sense of control, I noticed something that Mingus hadn't seemed to: his hands were trembling. Whether it was from fear, anger, nerves, or all three, I wasn't sure. I watched their argument unfold, Mingus having been in the middle of a statement.

"--could never understand the hell I've been through trying to make Dialtown thrive again!" Her grip tightened on her cane, which she held as if it were a baton. "What I did was necessary! You were a threat to normalcy as a whole, a threat to uniformity! Do you have any idea what your presence could have caused my people to do? What you could have done to my people?!"

Norm scoffed incredulously. "Inspire 'em t' be their own people? Pursue their own goals?" He took a mildly threatening step closer. "What a travesty. How dare yer citizens wanna do what makes 'em happy in life instead o' what you want 'em t' do?" I noticed a crack in his voice. Was he truly that passionate about this? I felt my stomach churn.

"Don't you dare make me out to be a villain here!" Mingus cried, pointing accusatorily with her cane. "I know what's best for this town, believe me! I'm just doing what my paw-paw failed to do– I'm reinstating his vision!" She paused just long enough to take a breath, not allowing Norm to get a word in edgewise. "Aren't you the patriotic one? Weren't you the one who believed President Crown knew what was best for his country? I'm only doing what he did!"

"Don' compare yerself t' President Crown. Y'don't get to do that after what ya've done t' this place." Norm's voice was low and... almost menacing. "Ya've ruined what makes Dialtown... Dialtown. Its uniqueness, it's unpredictability. Ya've made it a little gray speck on the face of the earth, jus' like all th' other cities." He shook his head. "I remember, back in th' day, when people would come t' Dialtown to get a taste o' what life could be like without expectations. Now, we 'ave homeless folks floodin' every corner, corporate slaves, crushed dreams." Norm glared, a heated stare that, even though I wasn't its target, seemed to melt my bones. "An' it all started happenin' when a certain someone was elected t' office. Wanna take a wild guess who that was?"

Mingus was seething with anger. I could see her form trembling in barely concealed rage, as if her very soul wanted to attack. Then, without warning, my body lurched forward, my heartbeat lagging behind its usual rhythm. My vision seemed to bleed and melt, and my head swam as if I had just taken the worst psychoactive drug ever. I couldn't stop the uncomfortable sound that fled my throat from escaping, and once my vision cleared a few seconds later, I realized my mistake.

The Mayor's head turned to the side with the speed of a gunshot, her intense eyes burning a hole into what felt like my soul. She wanted to see blood run, and by Phone-God, Mayor Mingus Crown always got what she wanted.