Warning! The following may contain bad spelling, grammar, punctuation, cardboard characters, cheesy plots, offensive NSFW material, and / or puns. Reader discretion is advised.
As Tom and Freddie moved to round up the Death Squirrels, a voice came from nearby.
“Curse you! You may have won this round but I will be back!” Mr. Smith was sitting under a tree on a motorcycle. “To me, my pets!” He raised a whistle and blew on it. A shrill note sounded. A small swarm of Death Squirrels quickly scampered out to gather their fallen comrades, then ran to the waiting Mr. Smith. They clambered up the motorcycle and into a basket on the back. Mr. Smith revved the engine and took off, the back tired kicking up gravel and spewing it toward Freddie and Tom.
Freddie moved to catch Mr. Smith before he could drive away but Tom stopped him.
“Let him go, we’ve got more important matters to attend to. We’ll deal with Mister Smith all in good time.”
“Right.” The two men returned to the car and climbed inside. Tom gunned the engine and twisted the wheel, spinning the car in a circle, kicking up a cloud of dust as he did so. The car rocketed back down the trail towards the water treatment plant.
Returning to their vantage point, the two resumed their surveillance.
“Mister Smith has obviously put a lot of time and effort into training his Death Squirrels. That gives us an advantage when we go looking for him later.”
“It also explains why he smells like peanuts” Freddie said.
Tom scanned the area using a pair of binoculars. A large transport truck came up the highway to the treatment plant. Tom watched as it approached the front gate. The driver slowed and stopped the truck, speaking with a worker nearby. The worked started arguing with the driver. The driver pulled out a gun and shot the man at the gate. The man collapsed to the ground.
“This is it! Hang on!” Tom gunned the engine and the car leaped forward.