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“Pish,” the white cat said, licking her paw.

“Oh no, did Jerome do something?” Polo asked from the safety of her cage. Not that she thought she was in danger, but there was a strange cat in the apartment. It didn’t hurt to be careful.

“I bet he did. Is that it?” Marco made a fist and waved it menacingly. “I’ll fix him!”

“Really.” The white cat looked at them like they were hors d’oeuvres. “Well, since you asked, I came for the show!”

“What?” Walt said flatly. “What show?”

The white cat smirked.“I want to know the plan! Obviously, you’re going to try to stop those men from scamming your human. And obviously, you’re going to fail miserably. And I’m not going to miss a minute of it!” She settled down onto Walt’s cushion.

Walt gritted her teeth.

The white cat stretched.“So tell me everything. What have you come up with? Some sort of physical attack?” She watched them expectantly.

“Don’t be silly,” Walt said, shifting uncomfortably. She decided not to say anything about going for the eyes.

“What, then? Trickery? Some sort of sabotage?”

Walt stared at her in cool silence. Butterbean did not.

“We haven’t come up with ANYTHING yet,” Butterbean said chattily. “We still need to come up with a plan. We’ve got NOTHING.”

Walt shot Butterbean a dirty look.“Look, cat, what makes you think we’d—”

A squelching sound from the kitchen distracted them. It was a pretty repulsive sound, but one that Walt and the others had become all too familiar with.

“Who needs to be stopped? Jerome? Total agreement.” Chad’s voice came from the kitchen, his tentacles making a slippery sound as he slid down the counter. “He needs to go NOW.”

“EXCUSE ME, but we’re having a conversation here,” the white cat sniffed. She turned to Oscar. “Mr. Wiggles needs to teach his help not to interrupt.”

“HELP?” Chad’s tentacles curled.

“But Jerome is your friend!” Polo said, climbing on top of the water bottle. “Isn’t he? Don’t you like hanging out?”

“FRIEND?” Chad scooted across the carpet toward them. “Do FRIENDS eat all of your sardines? Do FRIENDS snap their tentacles at you and make you adjust the thermostat ten times a day? DO THEY?”

“Um…” Polo squirmed nervously. She’d never seen Chad quite so worked up, and that was saying something. Chad was grumpy ninety percent of the time.

He wasn’t finished, either. “Do FRIENDS demand that you spritz them with a mister when their tentacles start to feel crispy? Do FRIENDS erase your shows so they can tape MR. WIGGLES UPDATES? WOULD A FRIEND DO THAT?”

“Um, maybe?” Marco stammered. He shot a sideways look at Polo.

“HEY!” Polo squeaked. As if she would do any of those things.

“Maybe not that part about the shows, though,” Marco added. “Or the… um… tentacles.”

“I have TRIED to be a good host. I found him an apartment. I cleaned up his cocktail sauce. I ordered him a PIZZA! I AM NOT AN UNPAID ASSISTANT.” Chad’s tentacles were going wild.

“Wow, Chad. What are you going to do?” Butterbean sat down next to him, eyeing him carefully. He was changing colors so quickly it made her eyes feel funny.

Chad whirled around, almost smacking Butterbean with a flailing tentacle.

“What am I going to do? What are WE going to do?” Chad said. “YOU OWE ME.” He pointed at Oscar with an accusatory tentacle.

Oscar ruffled his wings.“Er, I suppose…”

Walt shrugged.“He’s right.” There was no point in arguing.

Oscar nodded.“True. We owe you.” Chad had helped them out more than a few times, and all he’d ever asked for was sardines. Well, sardines and unlimited access to Mrs. Food’s kitchen.

“Okay, fine,” Walt sighed. “We need two plans now. Plan Number One, get rid of the ghost men. Plan Number Two, get rid of Jerome. Anyone have any ideas?”

Oscar stared at the floor. Marco and Polo stared at the ceiling. Butterbean stared at her treat jar in the kitchen. No one met anyone else’s eyes.

Walt sighed again.“Well, we have to move fast. We’ve got a deadline.”

She looked at the white cat, who had folded her paws and was watching them all with amusement.“Are you just here to gloat or are you planning to help?”

The white cat made a surprised face.“Oh, I can’t imagine you need me. I’m sure you’ll do very well on your own.” She smiled smugly.

Walt clenched her teeth.“Fine. But you need to answer one question. Did you or Wallace see what the men did after I was… um…”

“Tossed in the bathroom like a rag doll?” the cat smirked. “I saw a little. But who’s Wallace?”

Butterbean’s eyes got wide. “Wait a minute. WHERE’S Wallace?” she asked, standing up and looking around like she might have accidentally squished him.

“He’s not back?” Walt frowned. “I just assumed…”

She looked suspiciously at the rat-sized pile of cedar chips in the aquarium, which was apparently just a pile of cedar chips.“He said he was coming back here. He ran for the vent when I was… um…”

“Tossed in the bathroom. We know,” Polo said helpfully. “Like a rag doll.”

“He didn’t come back here,” Marco said. His eyes widened. “Do you think something happened to him?”