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And On That Note
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Various characters are copyright their respective owners.)
Thumbnail art by Stock Footage
Twenty-two.
No matter how well-constructed, a jail is not designed to be a welcoming place.
Part of the Spontoon Islands Jail dated back to the British colonial period, but the building had been completely renovated and updated in the years after the Great War. Its cell walls and bars had been freshly painted the previous year, which meant that by now there was hardly a surface that didn’t bear some sort of graffiti.
The two female arrestees had been placed in separate cells, cutting the available room for anyone else in half. Fortunately, there hadn’t been many fights or arrests over the past two days, but the jailers were laying bets on if the Constabulary was planning on raiding some of the pre-race ‘parties.’ Winnie had two members of the Huntress’ Union Local #69 sharing a cell with her, charged with trying to steal from their clientele. They were giving the clouded leopard mix a wide berth.
The other two arrestees had also been placed in separate cells, although they had some company. B’onss was seated amid a quartet of drunks sleeping off their binges, while Milo was in with a trio of the same. One was snoring, albeit not very loudly.
Little Percy, Winnie’s pet toy poodle, was being housed in the jail’s office while his owner was behind bars. He had been fed and watered and was generally having a great time being petted and given belly rubs by the jailers.
“Hey.” Kara’s ears flicked and she looked up at Winnie, who was standing at the bars. “Nice dress, by the way.”
The vixen looked down at her clothes. The seams had held up, but there was a tear, and the dress was spattered with catsup. Kara huffed and glowered at the feline. “Thanks. It was nice, until you ripped it.”
“Sorry about that.”
Kara’s ears flicked again. “You’ve got a British accent.”
“Guilty.” Winnie’s tail swished. “My Da was a colonial official in Burma, and Ma was his secretary. He got reassigned to the Republic, and took us with him.”
“Good for you. How’d you meet him?” and her brush wagged in the direction of Milo’s cell.
Winnie rolled her eyes. “Went to see him sing a while back. Great voice.”
“So, how’d you find out - ?”
“Heh. He tripped and fell, and I saw up his skirt.”
Kara chuckled.
***
Milo’s ears flicked as he heard B’onss say over the sound of drunken snoring, “I can't believe ya kissed me.”
The spotted skunk was seated on a bench, his head in his paws and his elbows on his knees. Sighing, he said, “It was part of the act. I'm a performer; it’s what I do.”
“ . . . “
“And you were supposed to be some high roller, and the casino wanted to try to get their money back.” Another sigh. “If it means anything, coming from me, I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend.”
B’onss sat up. “Hanh?”
“I meant what I said. You're young, you are good-looking, you have good manners.”
The young tod thought that over. “That how you caught her?” he asked, pointing at Winnie.
Milo grinned. “Yup.”
“So how come you dress up like a girl? Ya ain’t – “
“No, I’m not,” Milo said firmly. “You’ve heard me sing, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So imagine a guy standing up there, singing like I do.”
A pause. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I get it now.”
***
“So you’re a lawyer? Wow.”
“Yeah. Civil, not criminal.” Kara sighed. “Of course, I’ll probably be unemployed after this, but we’ll have to see. What do you do?”
Winnie replied, “I’m a teacher. Primary school.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. I love kids.”
“I really can’t see you as the schoolmarm type.”
“Heh.”
***
“So all this was just ta try an’ get back some money?”
Milo nodded glumly. “Yeah. I got roped into it.”
“Fire-God take-emphasis all gaming . . . “
“What?”
“Nuthin.’”
***
“So that detective was your brother?”
“Yeah. He’s probably told our parents now.” Kara suppressed a shudder.
The clouded leopard mix cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think we’ll get, Miss?”
“Kara.”
“Winnie.”
The vixen shrugged. “I don’t know. Criminal’s not my side of the street. I’ll wait for the jailer to do his rounds, and I’ll ask him who the judge is this morning.” A pause. “Milo’s cute, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. He should’ve told you that he was already spoken for.” Winnie’s tone of voice implied that another tactile interview with her boyfriend was on the agenda for a future date.
The jailer came through, and Kara got to her feet and walked up to the bars. “Excuse me,” she asked, “do you know who the judge is today?”
The canine replied, “Me and the others thought you might ask, Ma’am, so we checked.”
“So who is it?” the vixen asked.
“Judge Bruin,” and he stepped to the other side of the hallway to make sure that the mels in his custody were all still breathing.
Winnie’s ears went down as she saw Kara cross herself.
***
Thursday August 31, 1939:
“All rise,” the bailiff intoned. “The Spontoon Court of Oyer and Terminer is now in session, the Honorable Magistrate Bruin presiding.” Everyone in the courtroom stood as a short, somewhat middle-aged roe-doe in a black robe with a white lace collar and cuffs entered and took her position behind the bench. She sat down and the rest of the furs in the courtroom did the same as the doe took a sip from a glass of water and glanced through the dockets before her.
The two Huntresses were remanded to custody until the victim, currently at Meeting Island Hospital, could wake up from the Mickey Finn he’d been slipped and give his side of the story. Their shop steward was being contacted to inform her of the incident, and it was possible that the two young women would have their ‘hunting licenses’ revoked.
The collection of drunks were fined and returned to custody to finish sleeping it off.
“The case of Althing v. . . . Kara Karoksdottir, et.al., charges are affray and disorderly conduct?” Bruin asked incredulously as Kara and Winnie were escorted in to take their places in the jury box, while B’onss and Milo were seated in the dock. “Oh, I have to hear about this. Prosecuting Attorney?”
“Yes, Ma’am?” the beagle asked.
“Get on with it, please,” the judge said, giving a circular wave of her right paw.
“Er, yes, Ma’am,” the canine said. He glanced at Inspector Stagg, seated beside him, and stood up. “Last night, at the restaurant of the Grand Hotel Spontoon, Defendant Winifred Needham entered the restaurant to find her boyfriend, Defendant Milo Gracilis, at dinner with Defendant Karoksdottir. An argument developed – “
“I’m not surprised,” Bruin said.
“ – Which drew the attention of Defendant B’onss Karoksson.” He stopped as Magistrate Bruin held up a paw.
“I will take it that she is related to him, and are natives to the Spontoons?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Bruin nodded. “Go on.”
“Mr. Karoksson left his table and saw Mr. Gracilis. According to the Constabulary report, Mr. Karoksson had been at dinner about that time with an individual named ‘Michelle,’ who turned out to be Mr. Gracilis.” The beagle paused and glanced up from his docket toward the Bench.
Magistrate Bruin’s ears swiveled as she directed a puzzled look at the spotted skunk in the dock. “Mr. Gracilis,” she said in a severe tone.
Milo got to his feet. “Yes, Your Honor?”
“You’re not – “ She waggled a paw from side to side.
Milo’s tailfur drooped. “No, Ma’am.”
The same gaze was directed at the tod-fox. “And you, Mr. Karoksson?”
B’onss blinked at her until he caught on to what she was implying, and he crested at the roe-doe. “Good thing my Ma tol’ me I can’t hit a femme,” he growled.
Bruin struck the bench with her gavel. “That will be enough of that, sir,” she said. “I will not allow threats in my court . . . unless I make them. Now,” and she glared at Milo, “take the stand and be sworn.”
Milo blinked at her before he was directed by a bailiff to the witness stand. He was sworn in, and Bruin asked, “Please tell the Court why you were perpetrating this deception on Mr. Karoksson. And I will remind you that you are under oath.”
The spotted skunk glanced over at Winnie before starting to reply, but he was interrupted by a loud voice saying, "You wanna know what ______ happened? I'll ________ tell you what _________ happened!"
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Various characters are copyright their respective owners.)
Thumbnail art by Stock Footage
Twenty-two.
No matter how well-constructed, a jail is not designed to be a welcoming place.
Part of the Spontoon Islands Jail dated back to the British colonial period, but the building had been completely renovated and updated in the years after the Great War. Its cell walls and bars had been freshly painted the previous year, which meant that by now there was hardly a surface that didn’t bear some sort of graffiti.
The two female arrestees had been placed in separate cells, cutting the available room for anyone else in half. Fortunately, there hadn’t been many fights or arrests over the past two days, but the jailers were laying bets on if the Constabulary was planning on raiding some of the pre-race ‘parties.’ Winnie had two members of the Huntress’ Union Local #69 sharing a cell with her, charged with trying to steal from their clientele. They were giving the clouded leopard mix a wide berth.
The other two arrestees had also been placed in separate cells, although they had some company. B’onss was seated amid a quartet of drunks sleeping off their binges, while Milo was in with a trio of the same. One was snoring, albeit not very loudly.
Little Percy, Winnie’s pet toy poodle, was being housed in the jail’s office while his owner was behind bars. He had been fed and watered and was generally having a great time being petted and given belly rubs by the jailers.
“Hey.” Kara’s ears flicked and she looked up at Winnie, who was standing at the bars. “Nice dress, by the way.”
The vixen looked down at her clothes. The seams had held up, but there was a tear, and the dress was spattered with catsup. Kara huffed and glowered at the feline. “Thanks. It was nice, until you ripped it.”
“Sorry about that.”
Kara’s ears flicked again. “You’ve got a British accent.”
“Guilty.” Winnie’s tail swished. “My Da was a colonial official in Burma, and Ma was his secretary. He got reassigned to the Republic, and took us with him.”
“Good for you. How’d you meet him?” and her brush wagged in the direction of Milo’s cell.
Winnie rolled her eyes. “Went to see him sing a while back. Great voice.”
“So, how’d you find out - ?”
“Heh. He tripped and fell, and I saw up his skirt.”
Kara chuckled.
***
Milo’s ears flicked as he heard B’onss say over the sound of drunken snoring, “I can't believe ya kissed me.”
The spotted skunk was seated on a bench, his head in his paws and his elbows on his knees. Sighing, he said, “It was part of the act. I'm a performer; it’s what I do.”
“ . . . “
“And you were supposed to be some high roller, and the casino wanted to try to get their money back.” Another sigh. “If it means anything, coming from me, I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend.”
B’onss sat up. “Hanh?”
“I meant what I said. You're young, you are good-looking, you have good manners.”
The young tod thought that over. “That how you caught her?” he asked, pointing at Winnie.
Milo grinned. “Yup.”
“So how come you dress up like a girl? Ya ain’t – “
“No, I’m not,” Milo said firmly. “You’ve heard me sing, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So imagine a guy standing up there, singing like I do.”
A pause. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I get it now.”
***
“So you’re a lawyer? Wow.”
“Yeah. Civil, not criminal.” Kara sighed. “Of course, I’ll probably be unemployed after this, but we’ll have to see. What do you do?”
Winnie replied, “I’m a teacher. Primary school.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. I love kids.”
“I really can’t see you as the schoolmarm type.”
“Heh.”
***
“So all this was just ta try an’ get back some money?”
Milo nodded glumly. “Yeah. I got roped into it.”
“Fire-God take-emphasis all gaming . . . “
“What?”
“Nuthin.’”
***
“So that detective was your brother?”
“Yeah. He’s probably told our parents now.” Kara suppressed a shudder.
The clouded leopard mix cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think we’ll get, Miss?”
“Kara.”
“Winnie.”
The vixen shrugged. “I don’t know. Criminal’s not my side of the street. I’ll wait for the jailer to do his rounds, and I’ll ask him who the judge is this morning.” A pause. “Milo’s cute, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. He should’ve told you that he was already spoken for.” Winnie’s tone of voice implied that another tactile interview with her boyfriend was on the agenda for a future date.
The jailer came through, and Kara got to her feet and walked up to the bars. “Excuse me,” she asked, “do you know who the judge is today?”
The canine replied, “Me and the others thought you might ask, Ma’am, so we checked.”
“So who is it?” the vixen asked.
“Judge Bruin,” and he stepped to the other side of the hallway to make sure that the mels in his custody were all still breathing.
Winnie’s ears went down as she saw Kara cross herself.
***
Thursday August 31, 1939:
“All rise,” the bailiff intoned. “The Spontoon Court of Oyer and Terminer is now in session, the Honorable Magistrate Bruin presiding.” Everyone in the courtroom stood as a short, somewhat middle-aged roe-doe in a black robe with a white lace collar and cuffs entered and took her position behind the bench. She sat down and the rest of the furs in the courtroom did the same as the doe took a sip from a glass of water and glanced through the dockets before her.
The two Huntresses were remanded to custody until the victim, currently at Meeting Island Hospital, could wake up from the Mickey Finn he’d been slipped and give his side of the story. Their shop steward was being contacted to inform her of the incident, and it was possible that the two young women would have their ‘hunting licenses’ revoked.
The collection of drunks were fined and returned to custody to finish sleeping it off.
“The case of Althing v. . . . Kara Karoksdottir, et.al., charges are affray and disorderly conduct?” Bruin asked incredulously as Kara and Winnie were escorted in to take their places in the jury box, while B’onss and Milo were seated in the dock. “Oh, I have to hear about this. Prosecuting Attorney?”
“Yes, Ma’am?” the beagle asked.
“Get on with it, please,” the judge said, giving a circular wave of her right paw.
“Er, yes, Ma’am,” the canine said. He glanced at Inspector Stagg, seated beside him, and stood up. “Last night, at the restaurant of the Grand Hotel Spontoon, Defendant Winifred Needham entered the restaurant to find her boyfriend, Defendant Milo Gracilis, at dinner with Defendant Karoksdottir. An argument developed – “
“I’m not surprised,” Bruin said.
“ – Which drew the attention of Defendant B’onss Karoksson.” He stopped as Magistrate Bruin held up a paw.
“I will take it that she is related to him, and are natives to the Spontoons?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Bruin nodded. “Go on.”
“Mr. Karoksson left his table and saw Mr. Gracilis. According to the Constabulary report, Mr. Karoksson had been at dinner about that time with an individual named ‘Michelle,’ who turned out to be Mr. Gracilis.” The beagle paused and glanced up from his docket toward the Bench.
Magistrate Bruin’s ears swiveled as she directed a puzzled look at the spotted skunk in the dock. “Mr. Gracilis,” she said in a severe tone.
Milo got to his feet. “Yes, Your Honor?”
“You’re not – “ She waggled a paw from side to side.
Milo’s tailfur drooped. “No, Ma’am.”
The same gaze was directed at the tod-fox. “And you, Mr. Karoksson?”
B’onss blinked at her until he caught on to what she was implying, and he crested at the roe-doe. “Good thing my Ma tol’ me I can’t hit a femme,” he growled.
Bruin struck the bench with her gavel. “That will be enough of that, sir,” she said. “I will not allow threats in my court . . . unless I make them. Now,” and she glared at Milo, “take the stand and be sworn.”
Milo blinked at her before he was directed by a bailiff to the witness stand. He was sworn in, and Bruin asked, “Please tell the Court why you were perpetrating this deception on Mr. Karoksson. And I will remind you that you are under oath.”
The spotted skunk glanced over at Winnie before starting to reply, but he was interrupted by a loud voice saying, "You wanna know what ______ happened? I'll ________ tell you what _________ happened!"
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Skunk
Size 120 x 90px
File Size 58.3 kB
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