• Published 21st Aug 2016
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Dressed to Steal - Tatsurou



Coco Pommel balances being the daughter of Sly Cooper and a member of the Cooper Gang with not disappointing her Law Enforcement mother, Inspector Carmelita Fox.

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Time Out: Yabba

It didn't take long to get our saber-toothed ancestor - who I nicknamed 'Bob' - back to the hideout. It took even less time for him to become enamored with the magitek communications device...and he was able to get it working to boot! I guess prehistoric beings had stronger magic instincts. Guess that's how he knew it was a show.

Unfortunately, it would still take a while to reconnect at the other end, but it did result in a translation spell that let us understand Bob's grunting language more clearly...even if his actual name still didn't translate properly. He then told us his story...which was much what we could expect. Grizz shows up, steals all the eggs before Bob can steal them, removing his role in the local history and rendering him obsolete. Bob had gotten depressed and out of shape from this, which is how he got caught...and how he lost his special thief tool, the first Cooper Cane.

Given how dangerous things were out and about - especially in regards to retrieving the missing components of the van and time machine - we needed Bob back in climbing shape. Thankfully, T-Bone and Razor claimed they had the perfect way to snap him back into shape...


T-Bone slammed his fist into his palm as he stared out at the course he and Razor had laid out. Rock rings in place of tires, wooden poles, wandering penguins as random hazards, pterodactyl bait so they'd have to dodge them as well, varied terrain complete with rope swings and wall climbs...the classic military obstacle course recreated in the prehistoric medium. "Ready, Bob?" he asked eagerly.

"<I don't understand what we're doing,>" Bob replied, his grunts translating as the pair heard them.

"It's an obstacle course," Razor explained readily. "You need to get through it to get back into shape.

"<So...I just run through until I do good?>" Bob asked curiously.

"Not quite," T-Bone pointed out. "See, we've noticed you have a tendency to stuff your face with whatever's available...so we've made sure there's nothing here that's edible."

"Nothing except this!" Razor pointed out, holding up a steaming batch of delicious dumplings. "So you have two choices. Chase me down on the obstacle course to get the dumplings from me..."

"Or try and fight your way past me back to the rest of the region," T-Bone growled eagerly, gesturing to the dead-end cul-de-sac at the edge of the cliff they'd built the course in. "Personally, I'm hoping you pick the second one."

Bob stared at T-Bone's eager grin, flexing muscles, and extended claws and stepped back. "<I want dumplings.>"

"Then come and get them!" Razor declared as he took off down the course, easily clearing every obstacle as it approached. Bob quickly took off in pursuit.

T-Bone watched as Bob attempted to run the course. While he was definitely out of shape for him, the scale on which Prehistoric creatures were built was so much larger than modern that he was still in better shape than the average citizen of Megakat City. Razor had to put forth major effort to keep ahead of Bob, though there were - as planned - several points where he was able to pause just out of reach and tease him with the dumplings, forcing him to push himself harder. Both of them were ready for the point where Bob simply collapsed, unable to push himself further at this point...but it never came. Instead, Bob just got faster and faster, having an easier time keeping up with Razor.

Eventually, Bob was able to catch up to Razor and swipe the dumplings. That's when T-Bone made his move. As Bob lifted the dish to dump them into his mouth, T-Bone leapt to land on the saber-toothed coon's head, leaping away with the dumplings in hand. "<Hey!>" Bob called out angrily. "<You said I get dumplings, I eat!>"

"Still gotta keep 'em!" T-Bone taunted as he raced ahead.

Bob let out an angry bellow and charged after him. T-Bone led him on a back and forth path through the obstacle course, tossing the dish to Razor any time Bob got too close. Bob would then turn to chase Razor, only to have to dodge or block T-Bone's attacks. When T-Bone had the dish, Razor would attack unless Bob got too close.

Eventually, Bob had enough. When T-Bone tossed the dish again, Bob charged T-Bone. The buff cat tried to drive him back with an attack, but Bob let the blow hit him before delivering a devastating blow to T-Bone's chest, sending him flying into the nearest ice wall.

"T-Bone!" Razor called out in shock, only to gasp as Bob closed the distance too fast to track and wrapped his tail around the smaller cat's neck, slamming him into the ground as he caught the dish. He then pinned Razor to the ground with one foot as he prepared to eat, only to hesitate as T-Bone got out of the ice wall.

T-Bone grinned as he crossed his arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Go ahead and eat," he offered. "You've earned it."

Bob grinned as he lifted the dish to eat...only to hesitate. As delicious as the dumplings tasted...victory tasted far sweeter. Shrugging, he tossed the dumplings to a shocked T-Bone. "<I'm not hungry.>"


And just like that, Bob was back in shape. If anything, he was in even better shape than before, able to scale an ice wall in seconds with just his claws! And I thought I was fast using my cane split in four to climb.

And if we thought his climbing was impressive, watching him use a springy tree to launch himself to the ice wall like a slingshot was...well, it was something. He retrieved the Temporal Sprocket in a matter of minutes, once we told him what to look for. He was a primal beast!

...for some reason, Mom seemed to like that. She seemed to like Dad's reaction to her liking that even more. I made a point of asking all my Uncles - one at a time - what Dad meant by "showing her his primal beast". Their reactions were priceless! I have to admit, as frustrating as it is to always be seen as adorable by everyone around me, it does have its perks.

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