Chapter Text
The city of Petropolis. A huge bustling community inhabited by all sorts of animals, from cats to dogs to birds to reptiles and everything in between. With the sheer variety of species living in the same city, one might think that there would be much conflict. However, there was usually little conflict between the civilians, the main problems coming from the city's unfortunate crime problem. Fortunately, these crime-causing creatures were constantly thwarted by the Turbo Undercover Fighting Force, or T.U.F.F. for short. This elite group of agents used all kinds of gadgetry and fighting skills to defeat their foes, bringing them to justice again and again. And with their headquarters set up in the centre of the city, it means that it never takes too long for agents to go out and stop their foes' plans.
Speaking of the T.U.F.F. headquarters, the tall skyscraper-like building was currently bathed under the light of the moon, the lack of life a sign that everyone had gone home for the night. However, if one looked closer they could see a slinking figure creeping towards the base's back door, quietly treading to make sure they don't make any noise. Upon reaching the door and realising its locked state, the figure simply lifts up a paw, a claw protruding out of their digit as they get to work picking the door's lock. After a few tense moments, the lock on the door clicks open; they're in.
As the shadowy figure slips inside the headquarters, they can't help but look around in wonder; they've never been in this place before, the tiled base much more high-tech than what they're used to. However, they couldn't get too distracted, lest their plan goes to waste, and they've been planning this out for a while.
And so the intruder starts to wander, their vibrant green eyes piercing into the darkness as they try to find the right room, the only sound being the click-clack of their heels as they walk across the tiled floor. Part of them thought to change into quieter footwear, but this was surely going to be such a quick visit that it probably wouldn't matter. Plus, the heels are too nice to pass up.
As they gaze around, they spy a stairway upwards. 'Maybe it's upstairs' the figure wonders, closing the distance between them and the stairs as they begin their climb upwards. They honestly aren't too fond of stairs, not being the most active in recent years, and the heels aren't going to do them any favours. Still, determination filled their form as they ascended, hopefully getting closer to their goal.
"I just had to do it. One more game of chasing the squeaky. 'It wouldn't hurt, right?'"
In a small claustrophobic room, barely lit by a flickering lightbulb, sits a large muscular dog deep in thought. A black shirt covers his strong form, greatly contrasting his snow-white fur. His sky-blue eyes follow a small red ball he tosses from paw to paw, trying to keep his mind occupied. This down-and-out mutt was none other than Dudley Puppy, one of the more notable T.U.F.F. agents. Though he has gotten used to being trapped throughout his career, this particular case was a first for him. As he watches the small ball get tossed from paw to paw, he releases a sigh of annoyance as he recalls how he got into this mess.
---------------
It was closing time at T.U.F.F. headquarters, and everyone was starting to head home. Dudley, however, was preoccupied with playing around with a new squeaky toy his mother had bought for him; it was a simple red ball that made a loud 'squeak' when chewed, but it was all he needed.
"I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna getcha!" the puppy playfully comments, chasing the ball around as it bounces to and fro. During his toy-chasing trance, he accidentally steps on the ball, slipping on it and tumbling uncontrollably forwards. Luckily for him, he soon crashes into something that stops his journey cold. Though happy to stop tripping, his smile soon fades as the thing he smacked into starts to push him away, trying to get off the ground.
"Dudley! Get off me!"
He quickly follows the order, standing up straight as he watches the source of the voice rise from the ground. It was Kitty Katswell, his partner in evil thwarting and spy espionage. The slim brown cat, dressed up in a sleek black spy suit with white heels and topped with a well-kept black hairdo, was usually a happy sight to see, though the scowl she was currently giving the dog made him feel unnerved.
"What have I told you about playing with that darn ball? That's the third time today you've crashed into me while chasing it around!" The cat recalls with a pointed look.
"I'm sorry Kitty, but you know how I get," Dudley apologises. "Plus, it's brand new! I have to wear it down a bit, get used to it, you know?"
With a roll of her eyes, Kitty picks up the offending toy and looks at it, giving it a small squeak. "One of your more basic toys, isn't it? Well, simple is often better, don't you think Dudley?"
Upon not receiving an answer, Kitty turns to her partner to find that he is completely hypnotised by the red toy, staring at it intensely. She moves the ball up and down, back and forth, watching as his eyes follow it without fail. The sight of Dudley in such a state over a simple toy just makes her shake her head with an amused smile.
"You really want this, don't you?" the cat questions, eyebrow raised. "You want the squeaky? You want it?"
"Yes!" Dudley bluntly answers, excitedly panting as he focuses on the toy.
"Then fetch!"
With all her might, Kitty hurls the ball to the other side of the room, making the puppy immediately charge after it. The toy bounces around erratically, going from wall to wall until it suddenly zooms down a hallway, Dudley not far behind. He watches as the ball flies around, eventually ending up flinging itself into an open janitor's closet. Not thinking, Dudley quickly rushes inside, bumping into the door in the process.
"I got it!" the dog exclaims as he holds the squeaky toy aloft like a trophy. "Can you see, Kitty? I got it! I got the squeaky!"
Unbeknownst to Dudley, him bumping into the door made it slowly begin to close, eventually shutting itself with a small click. He whirls around to the source of the noise, eyes widening as he realises what happened.
"No!"
He immediately tries to open the door only to find it locked. He begins to wiggle the door knob around in sheer desperation, soon escalating into slamming his paws into the door to alert anyone, even trying to bust the door open with a few shoulder charges, but all that effort just tires him out.
"Hello?! Anyone out there?! It's me, Dudley Puppy! I'm stuck in the janitor's closet!"
He accompanies the cry with a few more slams, but after getting no response he sighs in defeat, sliding down onto the ground. As he tries to think of how to escape, he suddenly remembers something.
"My wrist communicator, of course!"
He goes to activate it but is shocked when he sees a regular watch in its place. Though confused for a bit, he suddenly recalls why; he dropped his communicator in the toilet by accident earlier, and Keswick was going to fix it by tomorrow. With his final way out gone, he looks down as the realisation of an overnight stay was filling his mind.
---------------
With his flashback over, Dudley gives another sigh as he looks around. He hasn't slept too well throughout his stay; there are puddles on the hard tiled floor, the place smells due to the many cleaning mixtures on the shelves, and the light bulb above can't decide whether to be on, off or flickering light show. Rubbing his eyes, he glances at the red squeaky toy resting beside him, soon picking it up and giving it an angered glare.
"This is all your fault," he remarks. "You just had to be so fun to play with."
With an annoyed huff, he tosses the ball into a nearby water bucket before deciding to try and get some sleep. As he curls up and lies on his side, he suddenly stops, eyes wide open as an ear perks up, hearing a noise.
The unmistakable sound of heels clacking on the floor.
Quickly getting up, he presses his head against the door to try and tell where it is, eyes widening as the sound heads towards him. He goes to get the person's attention when he pauses, thinking. He quickly looks at his watch, desperate for the time.
"4:36 AM?" Dudley questions. "That can't be right."
Dudley starts to think. Who on Earth would be coming to work this early? Kitty? No; she loves her work, but she's never here this early. Maybe Sally Mander the receptionist, or Tammy the secretary. No, too early for them either. The only person he knows who could be here this early is Keswick, due to him working day in and day out on inventions. But he wouldn't wear heels.
Or would he?
Shaking that thought out of his head, Dudley realises the heel-wearer outside has long since passed by. Fearing it may be a more malicious person than he first thought, he instantly tries to get the door open, wiggling the door knob in a desperate attempt to get out. As more and more seconds pass by he gets more and more frustrated, eventually having enough and childishly slapping the door knob in anger, immediately regretting it as he releases a small yelp and starts cradling his hand.
"Darn it, that smarts! I hit my paw on the door lock!"
It was at this moment he realised that the doorknob had a little locking mechanism on it to lock the door from the inside. The inside. Meaning that he could have gotten out hours earlier...
Rather than chastise himself for his obliviousness, Dudley instead decides to escape and find out who passed by him. Quickly releasing himself from the janitor's closet, the dog swiftly but sneakily slinks down the hallway, trying his best to spy anyone within the darkened hallways of T.U.F.F. headquarters.
'My goodness, this is tiring.'
The figure was leaning against a wall, taking a breather from all the walking and stair climbing they've endured. Their large frame makes them not too big a fan of exercise, especially something as strenuous as climbing up many flights of stairs. The worst thing is they're still no closer to their goal, and are starting to think this was a mistake. Even if they succeed, what are the chances it even matters in the long run? Nothing might change...
They shake their head at the thought, a determined look on their face. They can't give up now. They've plunged themself into this abyss of a headquarters and have wandered its halls for what seems like hours. At this point, they either complete their mission or die trying. Die of exhaustion, that is.
Now more level-headed, the figure stands back upright and takes a calming breath, once again continuing their search for their goal. As they turn a corner, their eyes widen as they look into the room; an office! Surely this is where it is. With renewed hope they travel forward, moving from cubicle to cubicle as they try to find the right one.
Suddenly, a loud clatter happens behind them, sounding like a pencil holder and its contents scattering on the floor. The figure gasps, hoping, praying they haven't been caught. This wasn't supposed to be like this; why is there even a person here this early in the morning?!
"I know you're here! Give up now and maybe I'll only lightly beat you up."
As the figure hears the voice, they turn to look at the source, only to get a bright face full of light. The sudden brightness nearly makes them yelp but they hold it in, covering their face as they squint at the light's holder, spying a muscular dog beyond the light. Their heart sinks as the realisation sets in; they've been caught.
"Kitty?" the light-holder questions as tilts his head in curiosity. "You look... different."
"Oh, no!" the startled figure states as she shakes her head. "I'm Mrs. Katswell, Kitty's mother."
She can understand where the confusion comes from. Her tidy black hairdo is very similar to her daughter's, though is happy to admit hers is ever-so-slightly larger. She shares the same brown fur, though she has dark brown stripes on her cheeks. And while they both have an interest in heels, her heels are just a simple white pair instead of those boots Kitty wears. Not to mention that instead of a sleek spy suit, the mother is wearing a blue dress accompanied by a white apron, both of them worn snuggly against her large form.
"Really?" the dog remarks, lowering the lamp so it's not blinding the woman. "I'm Dudley Puppy, Kitty's partner. What are you doing here, Mrs. Katswell?"
With no reason to lie, the motherly cat holds up a wrapped box topped with a card. "Oh, I was just trying to give Kitty something. Just a little present and a reminder to call me. It's been a while..."
Mrs. Katswell looks down at the gift in thought, a small frown on her face as Dudley watches on. While he wants to comfort her, he's still a bit curious about some things. "Just wondering, but how'd you get in here?"
"Easy, I picked the lock on the back door," she explains as she extends a claw, rotating her paw so Dudley can get a good look at it. "Being a cat has its advantages."
"That's good and all," Dudley comments. "But you're not really supposed to be here. I thought you were some thief trying to steal something."
"I know, I'm sorry," she apologises. "But I didn't want to bother her while she was working. I was just going to get in, drop the gift on her desk and get out. Honest!"
Dudley hums in thought as he looks over the woman, trying to find any trace of deceit in the cat's tone. All his agent training has taught him that people aren't afraid to lie to get what they want. For all he knows, he's actually talking to the Chameleon in disguise, and with no conveniently placed insects around there's no way for him to tell.
As he thinks, the lights in the room suddenly turn on, causing Mrs. Katswell to jump in fright as she looks around, a horrid feeling filling her stomach. "Dudley, what's happening?!"
"Agents are starting to arrive," Dudley realises. "You need to get out of here, fast."
"Oh no, oh dear, this wasn't supposed to happen!" the mother states as she begins to fan herself with her hand, trying to calm down. "Y-You have to get me out! I don't want to go to prison!"
As much as Mrs. Katswell would love to spend more time with her criminal daughter, Katty, doing so while also a prisoner in the same prison isn't exactly how she'd like it. As she begins to nervously rub her paws together in subdued panic, her thoughts are broken when she feels Dudley's hand on her shoulder, causing the cat to look to the dog and get taken aback at how serious he looks.
"Don't worry, I'll help. Come on!"
Grabbing Mrs. Katswell's hand, Dudley quickly rushes down a nearby hallway, with his companion nearly tripping due to the sudden start. The two of them travel through the headquarters, running down hallway after hallway on their journey to try and find an exit.
"Dudley, wait!" Mrs. Katswell exclaims with a pant. "Where are we going?!"
"I'm gonna try and get you out through the parking garage on the bottom floor," he answers. "Easy and quick way out."
"But what about the door I lockpicked?" the woman questions.
"Do you remember where that was?" Dudley questions back.
"Uh..." She starts, trying to recall, only to shake her head as she gives him an apologetic look. "I can't; I've never really been here before. Sorry, dear."
"It's okay," the agent reassures. "It's not too far, anyway. We-"
"Agent Puh-Puh-Puppy? Is that you?"
The two freeze in horror as they look to the source of the voice. Mrs. Katswell stares wide-eyed at the person before her, not quite sure exactly what he is. The small fuzzy creature, wearing a white lab coat over an orange plaid shirt, a black tie and blue pants with gray shoes, was currently squinting at her and her new companion, tilting his head in confusion as he continues to look.
"Hey, Keswick. Where are your glasses?" Dudley questions as he motions Mrs. Katswell to be quiet. "Don't you need those to, well, see?"
"Well, yes," the inventor admits. "Buh-Buh-But they must have fallen off my bedside table before I slept. So I woke up this morning, got out of bed and SMASH! I'm getting them fixed as we spuh-spuh-speak."
"That's good," Dudley comments. "What're you doing here so early? It's not even 5 AM."
At the question, Keswick rolls his eyes and scoffs. "What? Can't an in-in-inventor come in early to invent? Besides, I need to finish repairing your communicator. I left it out to dry overnight so I'm not duh-duh-dealing with warm toilet water."
Upon hearing the explanation, Dudley gives him a sheepish smile. "Heh, sorry about that, Keswick."
"No puh-puh-problem," he assures, before looking at the dog with a raised eyebrow. "Now, what are you doing here, Agent Puppy?"
"I... got trapped in the janitor's closet overnight while chasing a squeaky toy," the dog admits, shamefully rubbing his arm.
The response makes Mrs. Katswell look at Dudley in surprise, shocked to hear such a thing. At the very least, the only thing of his that seems hurt is his pride. Keswick squints at him for a bit, before letting out a laugh. "Ha! Janitor's closet! Tuh-tuh-that's a new one. Well, as long as you're alright." He then looks towards Mrs. Katswell, squinting at her extra hard. "Who's yuh-yuh-your companion? I haven't heard a voice from them, and all I can see is a buh-buh-big fat blob."
"Excuse me?" the woman remarks with her hands on her hips, only to quickly cover her mouth upon realising what she's done. The outburst just makes Keswick look at her even more, trying his darndest to figure out who this person is. Wanting to defuse the situation, Dudley quickly slides between the two, a nervous look on his face.
"Oh, this?" he starts, motioning to his feline companion. "It's just Eric, the waterboy! You've seen him around, refilling those water coolers."
"Really?" Keswick questions as he scratches his chin. "He sounded ruh-ruh-rather strange."
"He just has a head cold. I was, uh, taking him to the kitchen to get some orange juice. You know, to help him out."
Dudley gives Keswick a nervous smile, hoping that the genius has somehow bought the lie. Mrs. Katswell continues to hold her breath as she looks at the fuzzy creature assessing her, not daring to do anything in case it makes him suspicious. Keswick just continues to squint at Mrs. Katswell, humming as he tries his best to see the supposed Eric.
After a few very tense moments, Keswick gives the two a shrug. "Seems fine tuh-tuh-to me. I'll leave you to it. Oh, and duh-duh-don't eat my lunch!"
With that, Keswick starts fumbling down the hall, trying his best to reach his gadget room. Now that the danger has passed, Mrs. Katswell releases a bated breath as she leans against the wall, fanning herself as she tries to calm down. "That was too close. I thought we were done for."
"We're not out yet," Dudley reminds her. "We still have to reach the garage. Come on."
Taking the lead, Dudley continues the journey to the garage as Mrs. Katswell follows behind him. The two pass by many rooms on the trip down, from the briefing room to the dojo to the kitchen. The mother is amazed at just how many rooms the place has, and how diversified they are. If she wasn't trying to escape, she'd probably go and explore a bit.
As the two go to turn around a corner, the dog hears something and quickly holds up a hand, causing his cat companion to halt and lean up against the wall. "What is it?" she whispers.
Dudley peeks around the corner and his eyebrows furrow in frustration. As he suspected, that sound was the hopping of a tiny flea bouncing down the hallway. Usually, a flea would be no problem for anyone to deal with, but this was the flea. Or rather, the Chief, leader of T.U.F.F. This flea, decked out in a brown business suit with a white undershirt and black tie, was bounding straight towards him and Mrs. Katswell, and unlike Keswick, he had no trouble with his eyesight.
"Mrs. Katswell, you need to hide!" Dudley warns as he looks around.
His eyes widen as he spies a door next to the cat; it's the janitor's closet from earlier. He quickly opens it and motions her to go in. Not wanting to argue, she enters the door and closes it just as the Chief turns the corner, where he is taken aback by his agent's presence.
"Agent Puppy!" the Chief remarks. "You aren't one for coming in early. What're you doing here?"
"I got stuck in the janitor's closet overnight."
"What?!" the flea exclaims. "What happened? Did someone lock you in? Is there a traitor in our midst? I have heard the Chameleon is up to something..."
"No, it's not that," Dudley assures. "I just locked myself in while chasing a squeaky toy. And then I realised that the door was locked from the inside, so I spent the night in there for nothing!"
After hearing Dudley's story, the Chief just gives him a steely glare, eyeing the dog up and down in a judging manner. The tense moment is suddenly interrupted when the Chief bursts into laughter, the flea mirthfully chuckling as he realises what his agent went through. "You locked yourself in the janitor's closet overnight!" he starts. "And you could get out anytime, but you didn't because you didn't think of the door locking from the inside! Ha ha! That's hilarious!"
At this point, Dudley can only join in on the laughter, now understanding how foolish the entire situation has been. Inside the closet, Mrs. Katswell is leaning up against the door, trying to hear what's going on outside. Unbeknownst to her, she fails to notice a small creature descending from the ceiling, landing on her large hairdo.
"This ain't the bathroom, ya know! What are ya' doin' in here?"
Her blood runs cold as she stares upwards at the voice on top of her head. It's a small black spider, the eight-legged creature staring at her with his eight eyes. Filled with fear, she simply screams and leaps back, tripping over herself as she slips and falls to the floor with a loud thud. Back outside, Dudley and the Chief's laughing is cut short when they hear the commotion, Dudley looking on in horror as the Chief gives the door a startled look.
"What on Earth was that?! Be careful, Agent Puppy. Maybe the Chameleon isn't too far after all..."
As the Chief goes to leap onto the doorknob, Dudley swiftly intercepts him, causing the flea to fall back onto the ground. "Wait! I can explain that!"
"Oh really?" the Chief questions. "And how, exactly? Need I remind you that you are out here with me?"
"Well, uh..." Dudley starts, trying to think of something, his nerves not helped by the Chief awaiting his response. "It... was my squeaky toy."
"Your... squeaky toy," the Chief questions, incredulous as he raises an eyebrow.
"Yes, because my new squeaky toy screams like a woman when squeaked. Yeah, that's it."
The Chief simply looks at Dudley in disbelief, unsure he heard correctly. "Screams like a woman. You're joking."
"N-no!" Dudley reassures. "You know how science and such is changing. Keswick's inventing new stuff all the time. What's to stop the squeaky toy people from making squeaky toys make funny, surprising sounds when squeezed?"
At the explanation, the Chief looks down in thought, trying to process what his agent is saying. "I suppose it makes sense. And since you're out here, the crashing must have been a loose shelf or bottle of cleaner landing on the toy."
"Exactly!"
With the explanations done, the Chief hums as he nods. "Well, get in there and clean everything up. And don't squeak that toy around here; it's gonna spook people."
Upon seeing Dudley nod in agreement, the Chief starts bounding down the hallway again, soon reaching the end and turning a corner. With his Chief out of sight, Dudley quickly opens the door, trying to find out what happened. His eyes widen in panic as he sees Mrs. Katswell sitting on the floor in a daze, a bucket on her head.
"Mrs. Katswell!" he yells, kneeling down to her height as he grabs the bucket. "What happened?! Are you okay?!"
"I'm fine, dear," the mother answers, adjusting to the light as the bucket is lifted off her head. "A spider fell onto my hairdo and I panicked."
"Oh, that's the janitor."
Upon being mentioned, the fuzzy black spider promptly lands on the bucket, his tired eyes poking out from under his matted brown cap. "What's it to ya?" he comments as he hops onto the ground, scuttling to the door.
"H-he's not going to tell people I'm here, right?" Mrs. Katswell worries, nervously gripping her apron as she looks at Dudley with wide eyes.
"Don't wanna know, don't really care," the janitor retorts. "I'm getting breakfast."
And with that, the janitor exits, leaving the cat and dog alone. The two relax a bit, recovering from the several close calls they had experienced throughout their journey. Mrs. Katswell especially needed to rest; she didn't expect today to go this awry, and it was still rather early in the morning. At the very least, she is thankful that she has someone like Dudley to help her.
After about a minute, Dudley turns to his companion and gives her a comforting smile. "You ready to get out of here?"
Hearing the question, she returns the smile, a determined gleam in her eye. "Let's do this."
With the pair ready to escape, Dudley looks outside to see if anyone's there. Luckily for them, the coast is clear, causing the dog to open the door and motion his companion to come out. "Come on, it's clear."
Mrs. Katswell quickly exits the janitor's closet and joins Dudley's side, the two once again continuing their quest for the garage, more determined than ever. Fortunately for the two, they ran into basically no one on their way (except for Keswick, who was still stumbling around trying to find the gadget room). After a few flights of stairs and many twists and turns, the two finally make it to the garage, quickly rushing over to the door on the far side of the room. Dudley presses a button on a nearby wall panel, causing the garage door to start rising. Freedom at hand, the duo quickly slip outside, taking in the morning air.
"We've made it! Thank goodness!" Mrs. Katswell cheers, relieved. She then grabs one of Dudley's paws with both of hers, shaking it generously. "Thank you so much for getting me out!"
"No problem," Dudley assures. "Just another day in the life of a T.U.F.F. agent. Hopefully, Kitty likes that gift you left her."
Suddenly Mrs. Katswell's eyes bulge out in shock, remembering something. "Oh no! The present!" She quickly digs into her apron's pocket, pulling out the wrapped box. "I put it in my apron as I was talking to you, right before the lights came on. All this fuss getting out made me forget all about it. Could you please do one final favour for me and put it on her desk?"
"Of course!" he agrees as he grabs the box from the woman. "Couldn't be worse than getting you out, right?"
"Hopefully not. Thanks again!"
With that, Mrs. Katswell gives him a wave goodbye and begins to walk down the street. Quickly glancing at the box meant for Kitty, a small determined smile grows on Dudley's face as he slips back into the garage, closing the door as he climbs upstairs towards the cubicles. A gift from her mother will surely make her day, right?