//------------------------------//
// The Adventures of Arbuckle: What Happened to Schnitzel-Fest 
// Story: Garfield: Friendship is a Big, Fat, Hairy Deal 
// by wingdingaling 
//------------------------------//


The Adventures of Arbuckle

What Happened to Schnitzel-Fest


"Garfield!!! Odie!!!"
As the hours passed on back at the campsite in the forests of Muncie, Indiana, Jon became increasingly worried about his pets. Jon had very little in his life: no girlfriend, no life, and most of all, no family of his own, and felt that it was his responsibility to look after his pets like they were his own children. His search went on and on, but still no sight of them. To aid his search in the encroaching nighttime he took out a flashlight, but it still did him no good.
"This isn't a problem. The boys have been lost before. And they always came back," Jon assured himself.
This did little to help his nerves. He would never forgive himself if he let anything happen to them. He'd feel like such an unworthy parent. But then, his search yielded results.
Though they were mostly blown away by the wind, Jon could very definitely see the impressions of cat and dog paw prints going into the hollow of the biggest tree stump he ever saw.
"Boys? Are you in there?" he called as he crawled into the hollow space.
Jon kept crawling in deeper and deeper. Much deeper than this tree stump should have been. There was a sudden drop off, and Jon yelled as he fell into an inky blackness.
Jon fell on and on, seeming to be nowhere near the ground. Stranger still, he didn't actually feel like he was falling.  More like floating underwater.
After a while of going on like this, Jon actually grew bored with it, floating in the dark with nothing to do. Even a change of scenery would have been nice.
"Can somebody turn on a light," he called out.
As if on cue, lights, like distant stars or fireflies started popping up around him.
"Thank you."
With the lights, came a new revelation."
Jon saw his hands as he fell, but they were not his hands. They were stubby, and tan in color. It almost looked like they were pony hooves. That sent shivers through Jon, as it brought up terrifying memories of the pony rides at the county fair some years ago. He examined the rest of his body to see if anything else had changed. Sure enough, his legs had become equine hind legs, and he had a curly, brown tail protruding from his brown corduroys.
Jon was relieved to see that he was still clothed in his usual blue, oxford shirt and pants, but became confused as to his sudden transformation. But, that had to wait. He still had his pets to find.
"Garfield!! Odie!!" he called out to the darkness, but still no response. He felt his four hooves land on solid ground, though none could be seen beneath him, just more dark with dotted lights. "Boys?" he called out once more.
Being in this place was unusual enough, but in front of Jon, something even more unusual began to happen. The dotted lights started to arrange themselves into a recognizable shape. They seemed to take on the outline of a horse, taller than himself, and with a horn protruding from its forehead. It too was clothed, but in a long, flowing robe, and a tall hat. Its face also had a long beard that reached the ground.
"Welcome, Jon," the stellar horse said to him, in a surprisingly deep voice.
Jon was confused as to how this living constellation knew his name, but concern for his pets took precedent,
"Hi. Have you seen my pets around here? They're a fat, grumpy orange tabby who's probably eaten local restaurants to ruin. And a yellow dog with black spots who's way to friendly and trusting for his own good," Jon inquired.
"As a matter of fact: I have," the horse answered.
"Do you have them with you?" Jon asked, hope and relief welling up within him.
"I'm afraid not. They were only passing through here before I sent them on their way."
"You did what!?" Jon asked incredulously. He couldn't believe that kind of irresponsibility. Who would let a pair of animals walk right by him without seeing if they have an owner?
"I'm afraid that they are needed elsewhere. As are you, Mr. Arbuckle," the horse answered.
Jon grew more and more confused by the second, but allowed the horse to continue.
"The Elements of Harmony are in peril, and they will need to be helped if our land is to be saved," the stellar horse said.
"So, you don't know where my pets are?" Jon asked.
The horse was sent into a mild stupor over the fact that Jon would hold his pets in priority over the fate of an entire land. But he smiled anyway, because behavior like that was to be expected from somebody like Jon. He sent a trickle of stars from his horn and created an archway, like a door, in the middle of the nothingness.
"That is the path to your precious animals," the stellar horse directed. "Follow it, and you will be one step closer to finding them."
"They're through there?" Jon wondered.
"Not exactly. But, there are others who have need of you there, and by helping them you may very well help yourself."
That wasn't exactly helpful, but it was all that Jon had to go off of. With slight hesitation, Jon stepped through the arch of stars and found himself walking down a long corridor. At the end of it was a wooden door, which he opened to find a blinding light on the other side.
"Velcome to Schnitzel-Fest!" a woman's voice with a thick European accent jovially greeted Jon.
When he took in his surroundings, Jon found that he was now standing in the doorway of a shop that seemed to exclusively sell sauerkraut. Outside, he could see a fountain plaza with a cobblestone road with festival banners hung up announcing the festival. There were tables laden with nothing but different varieties of sauerkraut that were being eaten by griffins whose colors were a variety of shades of blacks, whites, grays, tans, browns and beige. The sounds of polka music reached his ears, and before he could look at more, he then felt his front leg grabbed by presumably the owner of the voice.
As soon as he was pulled out, he found that the person who pulled him out was a black and white griffin, who was dressed in a dirndl. It was almost like those books that he kept hidden under his bed. He had often fantasized about being in their world, and now he was living that dream come true. But something seemed off to him. All around, the flags and banners read 'Schnitzel-Fest' but there was no schnitzel in sight.
"Feel free to join der celebration," the griffin said as she placed a plate of sauerkraut under his nose, "Vould you like to indulge in my vegetarian platter?"
Jon looked at the wilted vegetables before him, and was reminded why he chose to avoid cabbage altogether. Anything that could become even similar to sauerkraut was to be done away with. Especially if even Garfield wouldn't eat it if you made a lasagna out of it. Jon responded to her question with a gagging cough as the fumes from the disgusting platter reached his nose.
"Me neither," the griffin said as she chucked the platter over her shoulder.
At that moment behind her, another griffin was trying to work up the nerve to eat some sauerkraut of his own, only to have his face smashed into it by a plate hitting him in the back of the head.
"Sorry, but it's all ve have since Schnitzel-Fest vas changed to this," the griffin explained.
"But, if this is Schnitzel-Fest, where's all the schnitzel," Jon wondered, honestly surprised that there was a total lack of schnitzel. As he looked around, he could see the griffins who attended all trying to discretely dispose of the sauerkraut they were given by others. Clearly, nobody there was enjoying themselves.
"You are new here?" the griffin asked, almost too excitedly, before she let out a shrill, "Oooooooh! That means I get to give a lesson in the local culture! Follow me, please."
Instead of leading Jon anywhere, she opted to push him to his destination at the edge of the town. They stopped in a rural area where livestock roamed, bringing to mind the farm where Jon grew up.
"Do you see all der animals out there? Ve raise them ourselves to help feed many neighboring griffin settlements." She pushed Jon back into town, only now they were in an area where farmers were selling their livestock to other griffins. "Here, ve can see der transaction in action. Ha ha, that rhymes! Livestock is one of our main sources of income for this town to fund everything."
She pushed Jon in front of a small building.
"Der medical clinic."
She pushed Jon in front of a different building.
"Der music hall."
She pushed Jon in front of another building.
"And der school, vhere I vork, by der vay. How else could I be so knowledgeable? And every year--"
She pushed Jon back into the fountain square.
"--Ve hold a celebration to honor our hard work. But if we have a particularly profitable year, ve hold--

"--SCHNITZEL-FEST!!" the entire crowd shouted in unison.

"Vhich ve alvays have, because ve raise der best animals." The griffin's smile became a deep frown, "But tragedy has struck our simple town and changed everything!"
She pushed Jon through the crowd, which parted around the two as they plowed through. They came to a stop in front of a building that was much larger, and much more imposing than the others. The overall feeling Jon got from the building was a sense of foreboding.
"Der new mayor is a miserable dummer kopf, who only ever thinks of himself above der welfare of others. He kept all der schnitzel for himself! Even der surplus that happens this time of year! Leaving us vith nothing but the leftover cabbages ve grow."
The door to the building began to open, alarming the griffin.
"Oh dear! Ve better move! Don't vant Knuckle Duster to catch us!"
Jon didn't have any time at all to ask who Knuckle Duster was, before e he was pushed back into the fountain square.
"Now, ve are left vith sauerkraut," the griffin finished up, using the final word contemptuously, "Despite how ve try to enjoy ourselves, ve are very unhappy. There used to be laughter and joy ringing from every street. But where is it now? It's all locked up in der mayor's vault, and whoever tries to retrieve any gets trounced by his goon." She paused for a second as she took in the information she just conveyed, before she turned back to Jon with a smile, "So, there you have it: the tragedy that was once Schnitzel-Fest. How did you like it?"
Jon was too stunned to speak. After what had just happened, he felt like he was Faye Wray in the clutches of King Kong, if Kong was an excitable griffin. Just then, he heard music play a much livelier tune. It was the kind of polka that made him want to get up and dance and embarrass his pets to no end. Despite his determination to find his boys, the music was weakening his will.
"Of course, they can never take the joys of song and dance avay from us. Vould you care to join?" the griffin asked.
Jon had to do his duty and find his pets, so he had to decline her offer.
"I can't. I'm actually here looking for my pets. And since they wouldn't eat sauerkraut if their lives depended on it, I'll have to look somewhere else," Jon politely declined. He started to leave, but the griffin stepped in front of him.
"Your pets are missing? That's terrible! Please, stay and maybe one of us can help you. In der meantime, you can enjoy vhat few pleasantries ve have left," she insisted.
Jon wasn't too keen to stay just yet. He had a responsibility to attend to, and declined the offer. Just as he was walking away, his steps slowed to a halt. The pull of the polka music was becoming much too great for him to resist. He decided that he could take a few minutes out from finding his boys before he cut loose with a mad schottische.
"BOOGIE! BOOGIE! BOOGIE!" Jon yelled as he got his oompah on. Even on four legs, Jon found his dance steps completely uninhibited.
He was joined by the griffin he met earlier who danced a schottische of her own beside him.
"This is not your first time dancing, is it?" she asked as she and Jon danced around the fountains square. "I'm Greta, by der vay."
Jon realized that he never told his gracious hostess her name, even though she was nice enough to show him around. "I'm Jon. Jon Arbuckle," he answered.
"How long are you staying?" Greta asked.
Jon saw where this was going. As nice as she was, he made it a point to not date outside his own species after dating Imelda the Alligator Woman. Or Kimmy, who was raised by wolves. He was usually on the rejecting end of things, but this time he had to come up with an excuse.
Jon looked back on the backlog of rejections he had heard, but Greta couldn't be as naive as he was to fall for something like 'No good, I have an appointment to get mummified that night.' He decided to simply tell her the truth that he wasn't going to stay, but before he could do so, a voice in the crowd shouted loudly.
"Over here! Georg's sharing his stash!"
All the griffins in the square, looked to where the shout originated, and saw one of the griffins handing out plates of schnitzel to the now-jubilant crowd. They gathered around him quickly, eagerly taking the delicious meat dish in favor of their plate of wilted cabbage.
Greta pulled Jon to the schnitzel haven with her.
"Come. Ve'll discuss your lost pets over schnitzel," she said to him as they both received their plates. "Now: vhat can you tell me, so that I can help?"
Jon almost answered, until Greta took his plate from him.
"Oops! How silly of me: ponies don't eat meat," Greta realized.
"Actually, I'm kind of partial to pork dishes," Jon answered.
Greta smiled as she gave Jon his plate back.
"Ah, a pony after my own heart. It's very refreshing to meet somepony who eats more than salad on der first date," she said to him, making Jon's inner dork gradually rise to the surface.
They were about to discuss Jon's missing pets, when the ground suddenly shook. It was a small tremor that was soon followed by another, and then another. Every one of the griffins was put on edge as soon as the shaking started. A few dropped their plates in terror.
"Knuckle Duster's coming!!" one of the griffins shouted.
Every one of the griffins scrambled into hiding, leaving behind the stash of schnitzel that they had.
Not one of them paid any mind to anything around them in their panic. Tables were flipped, the musicians dropped their instruments. An elderly griffin who needed two canes to hobble along dropped them both, deciding that hopping on the back of a younger griffin was a faster option.
In the pandemonium, Jon got trampled by the stampede of terrified griffins, leaving him twitching on the ground in agony. But, he still managed to hold his plate in his hoof.
The shaking got steadily more violent, and was accompanied by loud tromping noises, like somebody, or something was walking towards him, until it stopped in front of Jon.
The dork dared to look up, and what he saw was a gray-furred, very large, incredibly scary, two-legged bull creature. In one hand, he could see it carrying a baseball bat, adding to its imposing appearance.
"Uh...hey, big fella," Jon said, only half realizing the danger he was in, "Have you seen my pets around here? A cat and a dog?"
The large bull creature looked at the bat he held in his hand, and examined it carefully, until he found a tiny smudge.
"Hmmm...Fluffy tabby cat mit gray fur?" he asked.
"No. Fat tabby cat with orange fur," Jon answered as he stood up. 
"Then, no," the creature Jon assumed to be Knuckle Duster answered. He then observed the plate in Jon's hoof, then turned his gaze to the stacks of breaded meat behind him.
"Contraband," Knuckle Duster said grimly, before he looked back at Jon, "Have you been supplying der griffins mit schnitzel, vhich rightfully belongs to der mayor?"
Jon had no time to answer, before Knuckle Duster continued, patting the bat in one of his hands.
"Vithholding contraband is a serious crime, little pony. Very serious. Do you know how ve deal mit lawbreakers around here?"
Knuckle Duster gripped his bat, and wound up for a swing.
Jon barely had any time to duck, before the bat sailed over his head.
He scrambled away to a safer distance, but only ended up with his back to the buffet table.
Without anywhere to run to, Jon could only cower like a sissy at heart he was. But, not without a fight.
"Can't we talk about this over sauerkraut?" Jon asked, offering a plate to the minotaur.
"No deal, little pony," Knuckle Duster said, as he menacingly approached Jon with his bat at his side, "I vouldn't eat that garbage if you threatened to make a jacket out of me. Vhich you couldn't if you tried."
He wound up for another swing.
Jon dodged once more.
Jon was no fighter, and he knew it. Sure, he was on the wrestling team back in high school, but that was only because he was used as a replacement for a segment of the mat that got torn. There was no way he'd be able to stand up to this club-carrying beefcake.
The dork carried on like this, barely dodging any attacks, as Knuckle Duster rampaged after him through the fountain square.
The griffins in their homes watched as Jon faced off against the larger minotaur. Each one of them wished they could go out and help him, but they knew what happened when any of them tried to stand up to Knuckle Duster. The last griffin who did ended up getting batted high into the sky, and didn't come down for an hour. All they could do was watch and hope that the stranger got away safely somehow.
Knuckle Duster continued to swing at Jon, who started circling around the fountain, trying to keep the construct between himself and the minotaur.
Knuckle Duster wasn't going to let this keep up. He jumped over the concrete side of the fountain and cut through the water to get to his opponent.
When he reached him, Jon let out a scream that would have shattered glass if it went on a little longer.
Jon had to dodge another strike of the bat, which sent the sauerkraut flying.
He hid under a table to avoid the downpour of wilted cabbage.
Knuckle Duster flipped over the table Jon had hid under, sending him scrambling under the next one.
"Don't think that you can hide!" Knuckle Duster said, as he batted a table out of the way, "You've brought this wrath upon yourself! And because you vere supplying der griffins: they're all going to get a serious thrashing!"
Jon was hit with a pang on conscience. He was no stranger to bullies, and now he was going to bring one's wrath upon an entire town of strangers, who so far had been nothing but nice to him. Especially Greta.
His inner macho was beginning to kindle the same way it did every time before it got him publicly humiliated. This time, he didn't care what kind of trouble it would get him into. He made this mess, and it was up to him to own up to his mistake. But how?
A short look around revealed that Jon had everything he needed to take down the raging bull.
Knuckle Duster approached the table that Jon was under, and wound up to bat it out of the way.
"Say hello to goodbye, little pony!" Knuckle Duster shouted, as he wound up for the biggest swing he ever swung.
Jon burst out from under the table, and Knuckle Duster's face was plastered with a dribbling, putrid substance that filled his nose and mouth with a sour, foul, revolting excuse for a flavor.
The bull recoiled backwards and he wiped his face with his hand.
With his opponent distracted, Jon pelted him with more sauerkraut. This was going to be the bane of the bull. Jon scooped up another hoof full of the evil cabbage dish, and tossed it at the face of his bovine opponent.
Knuckle Duster wiped another handful of sauerkraut from his face, and charged headfirst with his horns aimed for Jon.
Even in the face of a charging bull, Jon knew he was on the higher ground. Back when he was a kid, he and his brother would play a game they called 'dodge the horn,' where they stood in front of a charging bull and saw who could let the bull get closest before dodging it.
Doc Boy won when the bull actually hit him and knocked itself out against his head, but Jon was always good at letting it get within a foot before he moved.
Jon picked his moment, and moved just before he was hit.
Knuckle Duster went headfirst into a lamp post that lined the square, bending it under the force of his charge.
Jon saw the bull's eyes rolling around in his head, and took the momentary stun to stuff another hoof full of sauerkraut directly into Knuckle Duster's mouth.
Knuckle Duster gagged, and spat out the devilish curds. He reached to the side, grabbed Jon by his neck, and threw him to the side.
Jon rolled to a stop against a table, and saw Knuckle Duster ready to charge once more. He reached up to grab plate after plate of sauerkraut to throw at his opponent.
Knuckle Duster charged without regard to the assault, batting an oncoming plate out of his way.
His horns were inches away from Jon, and knew he would run down this troublesome pony. But, there is that saying about those who do not remember the past.
As soon as Knuckle Duster was close enough, Jon stepped aside, allowing his opponent to charge, stumble and fall face first into an entire stack of plates heaped with sauerkraut.
Knuckle Duster was done with this. He retaliated by throwing a handful of sauerkraut at Jon, who was taken off his hooves by the force of the impact.
Jon spun through the air and landed hard in a puddle of of the vile cabbage. A softer, mooshier landing, but even the bare ground would have been more pleasant.
Looking up, Jon saw the bull jumping through the air with his bat raised over his head. He barely had time to roll out of the way, before the bat impacted with an earth-shaking strike.
The force of the tremor made many loose objects fall to the ground. Signs hanging from their shops fell off their hooks. Inside buildings, anything that wasn't nailed down rattled around. Outside, all the plates of sauerkraut present clattered to the ground, and spilled their contents all over, covering every inch of the ground with the horrid filth that they held.
Both combatants had trouble standing on the now slippery ground, but they managed to keep a foothold. 
Knuckle Duster slowly trudged toward Jon, using his bat as a support. To him, punishing a pony wasn't worth this much trouble, but he shuddered to think what the mayor would do to him if he didn't follow through.
As the bull got closer to him, Jon tried to run. But, with so little traction on the ground, he could only scuttle in one place. Soon, his opponent was upon him, making Jon desperately flail his hooves around in an attempt to escape.
Knuckle Duster tried to plant his hooves so that he could take a proper swing at Jon. He leaned on his bat as his hooves slid around and around until he found his footing. As he lifted his bat, his legs shook as his shoulders wound up for what was sure to be a home run hit.
Jon screamed as the bat swung at him. But, it was going to turn out much worse for Jon than a hit from a bat.
Knuckle Duster's legs slipped out from under him as he swung, making him do a painful split and sap the strength of his swing, so that he only hit Jon with dull momentum.
The hit from the bat sent Jon sliding away and into a wall, which he bounced off of like a runaway pinball, right towards the tables that were in the town square.
Jon barely had time to duck under the first one, and even less to shift his body out of the way of another tables' leg.
It seemed that the tables that had been tossed about during their fight had come back to bite Jon, as he steered himself this way and that to avoid hitting himself against any of them.
One that was on its side couldn't be avoided, and sent Jon careening towards a lamp post in the square.
As he sped towards it, Jon tried to come up with a way to avoid a painful impact.
A cane that was on the ground sparked an idea.
Jon reached a hoof out to grab it, only to fumble it around with no fingers to grip. After accidentally flinging it above his head, he caught the thing in his teeth, nearly spitting it out for the disgusting flavor it had. But. this was the only way that he could properly grip the cane to save him from serious pain.
Jon shifted his body and aimed the crook of the cane at the lamp post.
The cane hooked the metal pole, making Jon spin wildly around it.
He unhooked the cane, and went sailing back towards Knuckle Duster, who was just beginning to stand up once more.
Jon hooked the bull's leg with the cane, and dragged him behind him through the muck.
Knuckle Duster tried to hold his head above the filth as he desperately clawed the ground to slow his momentum down. This plan failed, and he looked for another way to stop this crazy ride.
Their trajectory took them to another table, which Knuckle Duster grabbed a leg, as his own leg slipped out of Jon's cane.
Jon turned his head to see where Knuckle Duster had ended up, but this kept him from seeing that he was about to hook the leg at the other end of the table with his cane.
When he did, he ended up spinning around the leg, causing the table itself to start spinning as Jon dragged it and Knuckle Duster around the fountain square, crashing the two of them into almost everything present.
One table that had its legs broken served as a ramp for Jon, who let go of the cane and went sailing through the air and onto the buffet table.
Not exactly on the table, since he actually landed on the large serving pot of sauerkraut, knocking it on its side and scrambling to stay atop it as it rolled across the top of the long table.
At the same time that Jon was sent into the air, Knuckle Duster banged his wrist against the leg of another table and let go, sending him sliding alongside the same buffet table Jon was on at the moment.
His trip was far less pleasant, as the contents of the pot Jon was rolling on was pouring its contents all over his face as he slid next to Jon.
Jon had much trouble keeping from falling off the rolling pot, the way the handles bumped every time that they hit the table. It seemed like those log rolling lessons he took were finally paying off. But, also like those lessons, he ended up under the object he was supposed to be rolling on.
Jon's extra mass to the pot caused it to bounce higher and higher until it reached the edge of the table.
The pot and Jon parted ways while in the air, with the pot landing over Knuckle Duster's head, and Jon rolling through the sauerkraut until he came to a hard stop against a door.
Knuckle Duster went careening into stage headfirst, the impact rattling the pot over his head.
This was too much for the bull. The horrible, foul thing that his head had been jammed into was overloading every one of his senses to maximum disgust. Soon, his senses faded as he dropped to his knees and fell unconscious to the ground.
Everything in the square had gone quiet.
For many seconds, nothing happened until one griffin dared to peek out of his door to see what was going on. After a brief scan, he saw the unconscious bull on the ground and flung his door open.
"Knuckle Duster's been defeated!!" he yelled loudly.
All the other griffins poured out of the buildings they were hiding in. Several of them brought out brooms and mops to clean the mess and prevent anymore slipping. Through it all, they wondered where the pony who stood up to Knuckle Duster went.
The last griffin who exited a building closed the door behind him, and found Jon plastered to the front of it, before he slumped to the ground.
After alerting the others to Jon's presence, the griffins all lifted him onto their shoulders and shouted praises for his deeds.
Jon could appreciate none of this for the daze he was in.
In his half-conscious state, through all the stars he saw, Jon remembered what he was told earlier about how the mayor was hoarding all the schnitzel for himself, and now helping others was the surest way to help himself. The one logical place for his boys to be would be where all the food was.
"I have to go to the mayor's mansion!" Jon declared, as he suddenly became lucid.
The griffins all dropped him as they gasped loudly.
Greta helped him to his hooves and tried to shake some sense into him.
"You can't go there! Knuckle Duster is one thing, but the mayor is something completely different! He's terrible! And evil! And vill devour you like a sausage link!" she said hysterically, hoping that her message would reach Jon.
"If he's that bad, then I really have to go. My pets might be there," Jon answered, clearly not going to be swayed by reason.
This did not sit well with his new friends, who all tried to talk him out of it, each one of them stating a different, terrible reason for him to not go. Things like how the mayor made joyful color drain as he walked around, and how he could turn milk into cheese by simply glaring at it.
This only served to strengthen Jon's resolve to save his pets, despite how one griffin offered to buy him a puppy to keep him from going to that terrible place.
"Vait," Greta said, quieting the crowd, "Any of us vould go if our loved ones vere trapped in the mayor's mansion, vouldn't ve?"
The crowd had to agree on that point. Then again, they had to kind of pity Jon, since it sounded like he only had his pets to care about if he was so willing to put himself in danger for them.
"Jon," Greta said as she turned back to her pony friend, "If this is what you truly vish to do, then I von't stop you. But if you go: you vill be the single stupidest pony I have ever met for villingly valking to your doom."
"That's alright. I took on a charging bull. How tough can the mayor be?" Jon tried to sound confident and macho, but the way the griffins looked let him know that what Greta said was true. The point was driven home particularly hard when he saw two griffins in the crowd: one carving his headstone, and one building a pony-shaped coffin.
"I-I'll see my own way there," Jon said, as he walked away on shaking knees.
The griffins looked on sorrowfully, wishing Jon what little chance he had.
After only a few minutes walk, Jon found himself back in front of the mayor's imposing mansion. He approached the door and opened it quietly, not even bothering to knock for fear of rousing the mayor.
"Boys?" he quietly, called as the door creaked shut behind him, sealing him off from the safety of the town.