On the Corner of Straight and Narrow

by Tatsurou


Fourth Case - Law 'Enforcement'

As Trixie climbed up the stairs to the office in the morning, she heard Sam's shout. "Sweet suffering Saint Sebastian on the sousaphone in a short story by Susan Sontag! We're on our way!"

"New case?" Trixie asked as Mr. Squishy scampered from Max's hand back into her hat. She wondered what the bug had been doing with Max. She'd ask later.

"Indeed," Sam intoned. "We need to investigate...the President of the United States of America."

"Who?" Max asked.

"Trixie's with Daddy. The who of where?"

While he might have ignored Max's casual ignorance, Sam quickly realized that Trixie genuinely had no knowledge, as opposed to Max's short attention span. "He's the leader of the country," he explained. "And he's gone nuts! He's enacting all kinds of crazy new laws."

"What else is new?" Max asked.

"...crazy by whose definition?" Trixie asked, glancing at Max.

"Federally mandated group hugs before, during, and after all major sporting events!" Sam began.

"So?" Max asked.

"We do that anyway," Trixie pointed out.

"He's curtailing civil liberties! Threatening the environment!"

"Hey, that makes four of us!" Max inferred.

"Trixie did accidentally blow up a building without evacuating it first."

"And, he's about to introduce mandatory gun registration!" Sam finished.

Max drew his gun. "Get the keys."

"What's gun registration?" Trixie asked in confusion.

"It means you have to fill out a whole lot of paperwork designed to be frustrating and make you give up just to own a gun," Sam explained.

Trixie pulled out a box of matches. "Get the keys."

"Where'd you get the matches?" Sam asked in concern.

"Bosco gave them to me," Trixie pointed out. "Speaking of, can we visit him first? Trixie is hungry!"

"Yeah, we need to feed Trixie before we drive all the way to the White House," Max pointed out.

Sam sighed. "Alright, let's go."


On the way to Bosco's, they saw Hugh Bliss with a huge pile of his Emetics books behind him. "Look, Max!" Sam pointed out. "It's our favorite cultish crackpot, Hugh Bliss!"

"Trixie is hungry!" Trixie complained.

"We'll talk later, Hugh!" Max called out as the trio rushed into Bosco's.

Hugh Bliss sighed. "Am I the only one with the feeling that I might as well be a cameo this episode?"


Once inside Bosco's, they were rather unsurprised to discover him in yet another disguise. "What's shaking, Bosco?" Sam asked calmly.

"Ah, greetings comrades dog and rabbit and pony," Bosco replied.

"I'm having trouble placing the accent this month," Sam pointed out. "Mid-Atlantic states? The San Fernando Valley?"

"The hat doesn't give much clue either," Trixie pointed out, staring at the brown fur cap with a red star that was Bosco's only real disguise.

"I get more of a vague Baltic vibe," Max pointed out. "Something in a light Czech pattern."

"Ha ha!" Bosco laughed. "Comrade Maximilian makes the funny joke. I am Vladimir Illyevich Boscovorski, Russian Proprietor of Workers' Glorious Warehouse of Inconvenience, no?"

"No," Max countered.

"But now I make new start in America which I love!" Bosco said happily. "So is no need to aiming sophisticated targeting equipment at me!"

"So what's with your disguise this time?" Sam asked. "Who's after you this time?"

"The Feds, man!" Bosco gasped out. "Uncle Sam! The government's watching us all the time!"

Trixie glanced up at Sam, pulled her cape more tightly about her body, and scooted closer to Max.

"Not your Uncle Sam, sweetie," Bosco quickly reassured her. "He is proper Russian worker, secretly working to overthrow fascist regime!" Smiling, Bosco gave Trixie some pastila to ease her mind.

Quickly distracted, Trixie ate her candy while Sam and Max discussed Bosco's latest bout of paranoia, and the design of his missile defense system. She returned her attention to the conversation just in time to hear Bosco talk about what was for sale.

"Is most glorious invention comrades!" Bosco declared proudly. "Is useful for how you say, questioning?"

"Ques-tion-ing," Max replied, enunciating.

"Is truth serum!" Bosco began.

"Trixie will take it!" Trixie proclaimed. "How much?"

"Is good!" Bosco proclaimed. "Price is 867.5309 Rubles."

Trixie pulled out her hat and reached in. "Umm...will you take 868 Rubles? Ruble fractions aren't legal currency, so the spell on the hat won't produce them..."

"Nyet! Exact change only!" Bosco proclaimed.

"So...how much in American Dollars, then?" Trixie asked.

"One hundred million dollars," Bosco stated.

Pulling out a small suitcase, Trixie opened it to reveal 100 stacks of $10,000 bills, each stack 100 bills thick.

Bosco crowed happily. "Now I can finally finish my satellite defense system!"

"And Trixie gets the truth serum?" Trixie asks.

"Sure!" Bosco replied. "Let me dig it up from the labs." Reaching under the counter, Bosco pulled out a large bottle labeled 'BoscoTech Vodka'.

"You're selling alcohol to a minor?" Sam asked. "When you're worried the government is after you?"

"...is problem?" Bosco asked in concern.

"Not really," Max pointed out. "We're just checking."

Trixie slipped the bottle into her hat. "Now off to deal with the President!"


Arriving at the White House, Trixie hopped out of the Desoto while Sam and Max argued over who was at fault for crashing into the mailbox before exploring the front lawn. Deciding to get things started, she approached the front door, only to be stopped by a secret service agent.

"And just where do you think you're going, Miss?" he asked quite calmly.

"Trixie needs to see the President!" Trixie proclaimed.

"One sec." The agent put his hand to his ear. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. Possible situation at the front door. Talking tiny unicorn trying to gain access to the OO. Please advise, over."

"Superball?" Trixie asked.

"Yeah, that's a negative on the access permissions, miss," the agent replied, removing his hand.

"But Trixie is Freelance Police!" Trixie proclaimed. "You are impeding a police investigation! Trixie will arrest you!"

"Do you have a search warrant?" Agent Superball asked in his calm, monotone voice.

"A what?" Trixie asked in confusion.

"It's a document signed by a Judge letting you demand access to a specific building in order to search for something," Superball explained.

"Uh...of course Trixie has one!" Trixie proclaimed. "Just a second!" Turning around, she pulled out paper and crayons and began scribbling rapidly. After a time, she turned around and held up the sheet of paper in her mouth. "Fee?"

Sirch Woe-Rant!
Address: Whyt Hows
Subjict of Sirch: Hip-no-sys
Signed: Major Judge Ursa

Superball read through the paper. "I'm having a hard time believing this is a legal search warrant," he explained. "Who is this Major Judge Ursa?"

"Here he is!" Trixie proclaimed, pulling out Major Ursa, on whom she'd attached a white powder wig on his head and a gavel rubber banded to his paw.

Superball stared at her for a time, then put his hand to his ear. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. New development in the situation. Adorableness of talking unicorn filly has exceeded 9000. Please advise, over." He listened for a time, then lowered his hand. "You are not cleared to enter as a police officer, but you can come in with a photo op with the president."

"Can Daddy and Uncle Sam come too?" Trixie asked. "Trixie isn't supposed to go into a stranger's house alone."

Superball put his hand to his head. "Papa Bear, this is Superball. Filly requests accompaniment by adult male family members, over." After a moment, he nodded. "You're cleared."

"Yay!" Trixie proclaimed happily. "Daddy! Uncle Sam! Trixie got us in to see the President!"

"She's frighteningly effective at times, isn't she?" Sam asked as he followed her in.

"Must take after me," Max replied. "We'd get these cases done a lot faster if you used some of my ideas."

"Max, killing everyone involved may be efficient, but it won't give us any answers," Sam pointed out.

"Answers are overrated," Max complained.