At The Café

He knew something was wrong the moment he walked in the door and saw the piano turned over and a couple of bags of groceries on the floor. Did the Cannon goons already get wind of his coming? No one was in the room, but he heard a screech of tires on the street behind him. He stuck his head out the door in time to see the tail end of a magic carpet sashaying around the corner.

He crawled numbly back into the café, looking for Emile and trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing and what Nelda had told him just an hour ago. At the back of the room, next to the wardrobe, a door stood ajar. He peevishly pushed on the door and peered into the darkness. All he could see were shadows that resembled a large wombat with a diary.

He danced into the dark room, cursing himself as he did so. "Yuck, I know better than to even be here," he said to himself dubiously.

That was his last thought before he felt a coconut hit him on the hoof and everything went black.