CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A month later, the toys had gotten used to Joey not being around. They went about their day as per usual, except when Wally or Mimi were around. They still came into this room every once in a while, Wally with a bottle, both in tears. Their mourning continued for a long time after Don Snowy and his henchmen had been unstuffed.
One morning, Cat seemed especially cheery. He greeted everyone with a pleasant demeanor. “Oh hello!” he cried out. Everyone knew something was up with him, but no one could suspect what he had in mind.
His last stop was Nightbeat. “Hello, my friend!”
“What do you want?” Nightbeat asked.
“Why, you old curmudgeon, Nightbeat. Can’t I ever be in a good mood?”
“No,” Nightbeat said. “I’ve been to the Catacombs. I know what you really are.”
“And what is that?”
“Evil.”
Cat tsked Nightbeat. “And cynical, too.”
“So, what do you want?”
“Pish posh,” Cat said. “Just saying hello.” And he walked toward the closet.
Nightbeat couldn’t let it go. He followed Cat, but he tried to be stealthy about it. The closet door was left open just a crack, so he peeked in. He couldn’t see Cat, it was so dark. Something moved, but he couldn’t tell what. He considered walking in to get a closer look, but something—perhaps his cop instinct—told him that would be a bad idea, that maybe he should get away as soon as possible. He didn’t want to, but he trusted himself enough to take his face away from the closet door.
Not a moment too soon. The closet suddenly burst open, and a flurry of white came crashing out. It moved too quickly for Nightbeat to tell what it was, but he thought it was round and big. Very big.
“Oh no!” Cat called out. “It’s been set loose!”
Everything about his voice sounded false to Nightbeat. Whatever it was, he knew to a moral certainty that Cat had let it free.
“What’s that?!” Bunny screamed.
It sped toward him and rolled him over, stopping briefly to tear through his fur. With horror, Nightbeat realized it was tearing the stuffing out of Bunny. Now that it was stopped, he could see that it was a giant ball of stuffing with a thin white cloth stitching it all together.
It was the remains of Don Snowy and his goombas.
“Help!” Bunny cried. “It’s hurting me! Make it stop!”
“I’ll help!” Fox said. He grabbed Bunny by the ears and tried to pull back. It almost worked. Nightbeat watched as Bunny was torn in half, stuffing unraveling out of his belly. The ball quickly sucked the rest of the stuffing out of Bunny, reducing him to nothing but torn cloth.
Fox tried to leap back, but it grabbed him next, ripping through his stuffing like a chainsaw through butter. He screamed, but it was too late. He was reduced to nothing, just like Bunny.
“Cat!” Nightbeat yelled. “Get over here, you son of a bitch!”
“What?” Cat said. “I did nothing!”
“You did this! That’s Don Snowy and his henchmen! You put them back together like some insane Humpty Dumpty! You have to kill it!”
“I did nothing of the sort,” Cat said. “That you would think it of me!”
Angel and Spike had gotten plastic swords from a knight’s playset that Joey had gotten for his last birthday. They tried poking the whirling dervish, but the tips were flung away on contact. It went for Angel, but the plastic sword was enough to keep it at bay.
“What the fuck is that?” Don Draper asked. “Peggy! Get in here! I need more scotch!”
“I ought to feed you to that fucking thing!” Nightbeat yelled at Cat. “Make it stop!”
Cat shrugged. “That is beyond my power.”
“I swear by Primus that I’ll unstuff you myself if I survive this.”
Cat smiled. “You’re welcome to try.”
“Whoa!” Spike shouted. “Keep back, you bugger!” The ball had tried to grab him by the boot, but he managed to slap it back with the broad side of his sword.
While it was distracted, Angel tried to stab it with all of his might. The sword made a dent, but it was quickly filled in. “It’s like fighting a piece of Jell-O!”
“Any help would be bloody appreciated!” Spike yelled.
Felix was passed out elsewhere. Don Draper had too much booze in him to do anything. Felix’s wives and sons looked terrified. It fell unto Nightbeat. “Angel! Spike! Give it everything you’ve got! Keep it distracted!”
Both nodded without taking their eyes off the ball. They no longer attacked from opposite sides. Instead they drew together, side by side, and hit the ball with everything they had. It fought them both furiously.
Nightbeat transformed and drove toward the ball as quickly as he could. Just as he approached, he transformed back into himself and plunged toward it, both fists forward so his body was shaped like an arrow. He plunged directly into the ball’s center, and he ripped at all the stuffing he could.
“YO!” the ball screamed. It had to be some kind of atavistic memory. There was no way it could possibly know what it was.
Angel and Spike’s swords dug in, and they shoveled out as much stuffing as they could. Nightbeat whirled inside, ripping and tearing, then transforming to skid his tires through said stuffing, flinging it out from the ball. It fought back, trying to tear Nightbeat apart, still strong enough to do it.
Finally the swords pierced the ball all the way through, and Angel and Spike yanked in opposite directions. The ball ripped open, and all of its stuffing was sent to the four corners of Joey’s room. It uttered a groan and died.
Angel poked at the cloth, still uncertain.
“He’s dead, you idjit,” Spike said.
Don Draper staggered over. “Where’s Nightbeat? I saw him go in.”
They poked at the remains of the ball until they found Nightbeat, or what was left of him. His limbs had been torn from his body, as was his head. They sensed none of his spark. He was dead.
“Gave his life to save you all,” Cat said. “He was a true hero.”
They all surrounded Nightbeat’s twisted body except for Cat. He kept a good distance from them because he knew what would come next.
“You did this,” Angel said. “I heard what Nightbeat said to you. I trust him.”
“Get him,” Spike said.
The toys turned on Cat, but just before they could advance, Felix jumped up. “Human!” he yelled.
Everyone scattered, and Cat fled to the Catacombs.
The door opened, and Wally stepped in. Mimi was just a half-minute behind him. They both scanned the room. “I could have sworn I heard something,” Wally said.
“Look.” Mimi pointed to the mess of what had been several of the toys.
Wally hunkered down and picked up a handful of stuffing. “What could have done this?”
“Rats?” Mimi asked.
“I’m pretty sure we don’t have any. I guess I could call the exterminator.”
“This is . . . it’s . . . disgusting.” Mimi grimaced. “Joey would not have wanted this.”
“Aw hell.” Wally picked up Nightbeat’s head. “I really liked this one when I was a kid. He was my favorite. I guess that’s why I still had him when I moved out of my parents’ house.”
“I’ll clean it up,” Mimi said. “Go call the exterminator, okay?”
Wally nodded, still holding Nightbeat’s head. He picked up the rest of him, thinking maybe he could put him back together. It was worth a shot. And who knew? Transformers were making a comeback. He might be worth something.
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