SHE'S ONE OF US!

"Come to think of it, I am rather curious about that," I returned. "I always thought you met Penelope in the Wacky Races. But why go from bank robbers to racers to self appointed bodyguards?"

Clyde took out a long cigar. Not a cheap one, but a Cuban. He bit off one end and lit it, puffing away. He walked over to Softy's grave. "Once upon a time, there were seven little freaks who wanted just a little respect but always ended up with the short end of the stick.

"We stuck the stick where the sun don't shine and turned to crime. Yeah, we still didn't get the respect that we wanted, but we really didn't care after the first few jobs. Hell, we were rollin' in the dough. We just show up at the bank, everybody would be rollin' on the floor, laughin' their fool heads off while we rolled the vault. No static at all.

"We were all happy with our lot...except for 'Toughie'."

"Toughie?" I questioned. I looked at the line of headstones. "Who's Toughie?"

He pointed to Softy's grave. "We used to call him Toughie. He was one mean son of a bitch back then. He was a junkyard dog in human meat. Mean as hell. The poor sap was totally frustrated by our image. Both the cops and the criminal fraternity viewed us as cute, lovable clowns.

"Toughie hated that image, and the fact was, with the exception of yours truly, the rest of the gang lived up to it. Truth be told, they were morons."

"If he hated it so much, then why didn't he quit?"

"One word: Loyalty. We were crooks. But we were misfits, too. Seven little men who were stuck in a world meant for six footers. We swore a blood oath to each other. Only death, prison or marriage would let us leave the group. And Toughie was a man of his word."

"Honor among thieves?"

"Somethin' like that, Dink. About eight years ago, Toughie went on a tangent about gaining respect. He proposed that we do a kidnappin'."

"Kidnapping?" I questioned.

"Snatch up some spoiled rich chick and hold her for ransom while scaring the hell out of her so that she'll tell everybody how dangerous we are," Clyde answered. "Which honestly, we weren't. But hey, it couldn't hurt. We went along with it just to shut Toughie up, see, but on the condition that the lucky girl didn't get hurt."

"That's odd," I stated. "I never heard anything about you guys kidnapping anybody."

"Penelope never reported it to the police."

"Penelope? You mean she was..."

"Yep. Planned the job for a month. The guys would follow the little airhead around to pick up on her habits. In fact, it got to the point that we were fightin' over who's turn it was to watch Penelope."

"Fighting over her?"

"Hey, we're guys and she's a babe. I once saw her in a bikini. God, she was gorgeous! Well anyway, we learned that the Pitstops would go to the movies together on Friday night. Often, Penelope would already be in town and would meet her family at the show. Perfect opportunity. Hit her with the chloroform and grabbed her right off the street, spirited her away to our hide out and tied her up."

"I take it you guys like the latter part, eh?"

"Every minute of it. But we made sure she was comfortable, a nice big bed with clean sheets and fluffy pillows, a box of chocolates, some roses. We even had scented bath salt in case she wanted to freshen up."

"And you're kidnappers?" I asked sarcastically.

"What can I say, we all fell in love with her...except for Toughie. That screwy dame drove him up the wall. When Penelope woke up, he was the one who confronted her. He made all the threats and laid down the rules and told her what the score was. But for some reason, he couldn't get it through her head that she was in danger from us. She just kept telling us how cute and adorable we looked."

"Clyde, giving bath salts and chocolates to a kidnap victim somehow doesn't seem very 'threatening' to me," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's what Toughie said. Poor guy ran out of the hideout a couple of times to scream in frustration. Meanwhile, we played poker with our captive. She told us about her plans for the future." Clyde glanced sadly at Penelope's urn. "Kid was gonna do a lotta good when she got her money. She even suggested that we all go straight and get honest work.

"Of course, Toughie was against it. He asked her what kinda honest work could we get, given that we're wanted by the fuzz and we're a bunch of midgets. She suggested that we join the Wacky Races like she was plannin' to do. We took a vote on it and we passed it, six to one. Toughie ran outside screamin' again. Later that night, as we were watchin' some stupid monster movie on the late show, the local news broke in with a news flash...about Penelope's family."

Clyde removed his hat and rubbed the top of his balding head. "The poor kid just sat there, her eyes wide in shock, sayin' nothin', starin' blankly at the TV. I turned the damned thing off while Dum Dum snapped his fingers in her face.

"Finally, she blinked. 'They're gone' was all she said before turnin' on the eye faucets. Next thing you know, everybody in the room were bawlin' like babies. The guys gathered around her in a group hug, comfortin' Penelope as they shared her loss. I was bawlin' myself. Haven't cried like that since Mom got the chair.

"I was about to join them when I looked to Toughie. That ever-present junkyard dog face had changed. His eyes were waterin' while his lower lip quivered. Then, he broke down and joined the rest of us as we felt Penelope's pain. Ya see, his family died in a car crash, too."

I removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes. "Jinkies, that so sad. I guess that's when Toughie changed his nickname."

"Nah," Clyde said. "That didn't happen until she told us she was sapphic. The poor sap's been cryin' ever since. The next day, we dropped her off about a block away from the police station. She promised not to tell the fuzz about the kidnappin' and actually thanked us."

"Thanked you?"

"If we hadn't had snatched her, she would've been ridin' home with her family and killed along with them. She told us that we saved her life..."

"Which sorta became an accidental career for you and the mob."

"Somethin' like that. We thanked her for givin' us a second chance."

"A second chance," I pondered aloud as I looked up into the sky. "When I thought I was going to die, I swore that if I could have a second chance, I'd tell Shaggy how I really feel about him."

"Funny, the hippie said the same thing about you after I busted him out of the cooler."

Upon hearing this, I glanced back down to Clyde, my head making a slight 'whoosh' sound as I did so. "He did?!" I asked excitedly. "What did he say?! Does he like me?! Does he think I'm cute?! Does he..."

"Pipe down, Dink," Clyde reprimanded. "We don't wanna attract unwanted attention. Hanna H. Barbera, ya wanna bring Quickdraw down on us?"

I calmed myself, but I was still excited. "Sorry. It's just that I...well...I..."

"You love 'em."

"Yeah. Does he love me?"

"Love ya? Hanna, I couldn't shut him up about ya. You're his biggest topic. Hell, he wants to marry ya."

"Marry me?!" Those two simple words filled me with a high that lifted me off the ground. He loves me! And he wants to marry me! We'll live together and have kids and grow old while growing maryjane in the basement...

"Which makes this all the harder to say," Clyde added in a tone most grim. "He's gotta leave the country."