Chapter Text
2 Beanpole 2 Moustache
Chapter 1
It’s January now. Beanpole and Moustache are back from their suspension vacation in Whoville. Moustache finds a display case for his Pong console and sets it up in his studio apartment, proudly and prominently between his giant lava lamp and potted truffula tree. He wakes up Monday morning, ready to return to work. It’s still frickin’ cold, so he bundles up in his knockoff thneed and even pulls on a pair of boots. He grabs his knit cap and grins at his Pong console before taking off down the hall to the elevator.
Outside his apartment building, Moustache meets Beanpole, already waiting out front. He doesn’t have his station wagon anymore, so he’s borrowing his brothers’ pickup truck. Beanpole waves.
“Ready to be back at it?”
Moustache does finger guns. “Hella.”
He hops into the truck and waits for Beanpole to get in through the driver side. They hit a drive-thru on the way and get a dozen hash browns. Which is definitely not weird. As they pull out with their breakfast, Beanpole cranks up the radio.
They pull into the parking lot of the precinct or whatever. Beanpole turns off the radio and kills the ignition. They stay in the truck to finish their hash browns.
Moustache pipes up, “What exactly is a ‘hollaback girl’?”
Beanpole leans his head back in thought. “Uh, something a critic said once. I think. I don’t entirely remember. There’d better be a fresh pot of coffee in the break room.”
“We coulda grabbed some on the way?”
“Ugh, drive-thru coffee sucks. Not that the stuff at work is much better, but at least it doesn’t burn off my sense of taste.”
They dust off the crumbs and head in. Captain Cyrus D’Liveryguy is chatting with the front desk. He looks up and waves over the detectives. They join him, and Moustache signals for uppies. Beanpole picks him up.
Moustache turns to Captain Cy. “Sup, Boss?”
Captain Cy frowns. “First of all, don’t say ‘sup’ to me. Second, you both did good work on that heist case. Very good work. Particularly you, Once-ler. Third, you boys are still on the hook for how the first episode ended. You’re not getting off with just a suspension.”
“That’s hella ominous,” Beanpole says.
“No, it’s not. Don’t be so dramatic, detective. Now then, we currently have Mr. Aloysius O’Hare waiting in my office. You boys need to go in there and apologize properly, in person. Particularly you, Once-ler. Those were the terms of the settlement, and you’re very lucky they’re so agreeable.”
Beanpole nods. “Understood, sir.”
Beanpole carries Moustache into the captain’s office. O’Hare is sitting in the captain’s chair. He looks up when the detectives enter.
“Hiya, boys. Have a sit.”
Captain Cy got new chairs for his office over New Year’s. They’re red and patent-leather. Because Cy has terrible taste. Beanpole sets Moustache down on one, then sits in the other. The chairs are hella uncomfortable. Moustache’s fur immediately frizzes with static electricity. Cy should not be allowed to pick out furniture.
O’Hare continues, “You two remember the first episode, yeah? String bean over here left me with a big, big owwie. Frankly, I’m still upset about that.”
Beanpole fidgets. He doesn’t feel very much like a cool dude. “I’m truly sorry about that. Even if it was an accident, I should’ve been much more careful and restrained. I don’t excuse what I did. I promise to take the lesson to heart going forward.”
Moustache beams at Beanpole and gives him a thumbs-up. “Good job.”
O’Hare nods. “Agreed. I give it an eight out of ten. I accept your apology. And you, orange guy?”
Moustache blinks. “I didn’t kick you.”
“Then you should have an easier time of it.”
Moustache fiddles with the end of his moustache, thinking a bit. “I’m sorry my partner kicked you?”
O’Hare facepalms. “Ugh, fine, whatever. I’ll take it.”
Beanpole ventures, “How’ve you been since last we saw ya?”
“I’ve been in the hospital, you dolt. I gotta take these brain pills for another month. Don’t question it; the writer ain’t a doctor. Fortunately, worker’s comp covered my insurance co-pay.”
“That’s wonderful!”
O’Hare leans back. “A-ny-way… If I remember, you two were looking for Mister Zillions?”
“That’s right,” Moustache answers, “Do you know who the guy is?”
“I dunno. I might. I don’t exactly want to betray the Final Boss, but I could be convinced to let slip a couple details.”
Beanpole narrows his eyes. “Why?”
O’Hare shrugs. “It moves the plot along.”
“Fair enough. Let’s see what we can negotiate.”