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“Hey, Chad,” Butterbean said. It was Chad. Again.

Chad was sitting in the sink with a package of sardines he’d gotten from the cabinet. He grabbed the pull tab with one of his tentacles and sucked the sardines down without a word. So far Mrs. Food hadn’t noticed how quickly they’d been disappearing.

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“You know, one day Mrs. Food is going to catch you doing that and it’ll all be over,” Walt said, licking a paw. “She’s cool, but I don’t know if she’s strange-octopus-in-the-sink cool.”

“Hey, guys!” Wallace emerged from behind the sofa. His cheeks were filled with sunflower seeds, and he was leaving a trail of shells as he walked.

“Is she strange-rat-in-the-living-room cool?” Butterbean asked.

“She’s going to have to be. After all, they’re members of our gang. Go, Strathmore Six!” Marco cheered.

“Marco!” Polo hissed. “Rude! Wallace isn’t a member. It’s the Strathmore SIX, get it? He’d make it seven.”

Wallace stopped chewing and looked at them, hurt. A shell dropped out of his mouth.“You guys have a gang?”

“More of an International Crime Syndicate,” Oscar said. He hopped onto the Television and snapped his beak. “All in favor of including Wallace and making it the Strathmore Seven?”

“WHOOOHOO!” Marco cheered, high-fiving Wallace, who choked on a seed.

“Sounds good to me,” Walt said.

“Me too!” Butterbean yelped. “Strathmore Seven!”

“Any more sardines?” Chad asked.

“I’ve never been in a club. Thanks, you guys.” Wallace blushed. “But I wanted to tell you—the Patchouli Family was watching the news. The heist is on TV. Channel Seven.”

“Ooh, we’re famous!” Oscar crowed, hopping on the remote and turning the Television to Channel Seven.

“…Prosecutors say that an anonymous tip led police to the apartment, where they were able to arrest the thieves and recover most of the coins that had been stolen.”

“Wait a minute.” Walt stepped on the pause button. “MOST of the coins?”

Oscar shifted from foot to foot.“Hmm. Wow. That’s, um. Interesting.”

Walt cocked her head.“Oscar?”

Oscar sighed.“FINE.” He hopped over to the sofa and dragged Mrs. Food’s embroidered bag out from underneath. With obvious effort, he tossed it into the middle of the living room.

The flap burst open, and gold coins spilled out.

Five jaws dropped simultaneously.

Oscar folded his wings.“Well, you didn’t expect me to return ALL of them, did you?” he grumbled. “What if it happens again? We might NEED them!”

Walt flopped back onto her haunches.“Well, that’s it. We’re officially criminals.”

“But criminals who can do this!” Butterbean yelped, bouncing in excitement. “Oscar, can I?”

Oscar swept his wing in the direction of the coins.“Feel free.” He looked at Marco and Polo and Wallace. “You too.” He winked at Marco. “Now’s the appropriate time.”

“WHOOHOO!” Marco shrieked, pumping his fists.

With cheers of happiness, Butterbean, Marco, Polo, and Wallace all threw themselves into the small pile of coins, rolling around and flinging coins in the air.

Walt and Oscar exchanged glances.

“Oh, heck,” Walt said, jumping in after them. Oscar was only a second behind her.

And across the room, Chad began inching toward the celebration. He was an expert coin flinger.

2. THE GREAT GHOST HOAX

— 1 —

“NOTHING EXCITING EVER HAPPENS TO US!” Butterbean wailed, flopping over onto her back in the living room. She’d hoped that saying that would make something exciting magically happen, but it didn’t work.

She’d done her best to make the day fun. She’d finished chewing her rawhide chew. She’d disemboweled her squeaky lamb toy and carefully scattered its stuffing around the living room. She’d attempted to tunnel through the living room carpet (unsuccessfully). There was nothing left to do. She’d done it all.

“Nothing! Nothing exciting ever happens!” Butterbean wailed again, in a different key this time. She liked to mix things up.

Walt rolled her eyes and inspected her paw.“Hello, remember heisting?”

“I wouldn’t call an International Crime Syndicate nothing,” Oscar sniffed, puffing out his feathers indignantly. He wasn’t about to let Butterbean diminish his status as an International Crime Boss. Not to mention the fact that he was the only crime boss who was also a mynah bird. It was nosmall feat.

Butterbean rolled over onto her stomach.“That was a million years ago. Nothing happens NOW. Just look! Everything’s BORING. And even Madison is gone!” Madison was the medium-sized girl who had moved in with them temporarily while her aunt was deployed overseas.

“Madison is at school,” Oscar said, absentmindedly flipping through one of Mrs. Food’s magazines. “She goes to school every day, Butterbean. It’s a thing humans do.”

“Not the other day,” Butterbean whined. “It wasn’t school the other day.”

Walt sighed.“We’ve gone over this, Bean. That was a field trip, and she came back! She always comes back!” Walt shook her head. “You need to get a grip.”

“A FIELD TRIP.” Butterbean pouted. “WITHOUT US.”