MacDoozle huffed and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down at the chicken scratch he'd scribbled onto his notepad and groaned inwardly. A little tap on his shoulder made him jump. He turned around to see a young woman with tan skin, green eyes, and dark curly brown hair before him. A small black cat with a white chin, stomach, and paws and identical green eyes to the woman sat on her shoulder.
"I saw the robbery," she said matter-of-factly, sitting down in an armchair. When MacDoozle simply stood there, she raised one eyebrow, a trick MacDoozle had never been able to accomplish. He sat down.
"Did you?" he asked wearily, flipping to a new page in his notepad. "What's your name?"
"Princess Conseula Banana-Hammock. I'm from Zimkiki." She sniffed haughtily. A silvery-gray tabby cat appeared out of nowhere and curled up by her feet, purring softly.
MacDoozle sighed and wrote down "Princess Consuela Bananahammock" on his notepad. The woman peered over and glanced at his notepad.
"Fool!" she screeched, snatching the notepad and pen out of his hands. She ripped off the page and wrote her name down again and handed it back to him. "There's a DASH between Banana and Hammock! How dare you!"
"I'm so very sorry," MacDoozle said bluntly.
"You should be."
"What exactly did you see?"
Another cat, this time white with orange and black blotches all over it, hopped up and sat in her lap, licking its paws ferociously. "Well, I saw a robbery, of course."
"Yes, yes." MacDoozle glanced over at Oldetower and found Oldetower was crouching on the floor and using a magnifying glass to interrogate an ant. He huffed. "Care to explain the robbery - Your Majesty?" he added at the glare Princess Consuela (Banana-Hammock) gave him.
"Well," she said, suddenly smiling. "I had just flown in from Zimkiki with my jet this morning."
"Yes carry on!" MacDoozle snapped. Princess Consuela ignored him.
"And my daddy, King CrapBag, told me to go to the bank so I could get a few million dollars for shopping." She shrugged casually and began inspecting her nails as another cat (a kitten, more like) began pawing at the hem of her dress. "So I came here, because the floors are shiny and it makes me feel less like a commoner like I do whenever I'm" - here she sniffed disdainfully - "HERE."
MacDoozle raised his eyebrows and continued scribbling down her words.
"I went up to the teller and gave her the little piece of plastic you all know as credit cards, and THEN - ooh, THEN - that little WEASEL told me my PIECE OF PLASTIC HAD EXPIRED!"
MacDoozle scooted back in his chair, alarmed.
"And then we began a heated argument and she was about to call security when I dialed the number for my henchmen! I waited, PATIENTLY, I might add, while they somehow rendered each bank teller unconcious and retrieved the money for me." She shrugged and calmed down, petting the cat in her lap.
MacDoozle gaped. "You mean to say your henchmen were the robbers themselves? But - but - I - How - WHAT?"
The Princess nodded. "I don't know what you're making such a fuss about."
MacDoozle opened his mouth to say something, he didn't exactly remember what it was, when suddenly somebody shouted, "CUT!"
He blinked. A man with a directors cap ran towards them. "Brilliantly done, Gwen, brilliantly done!" He grinned and clapped his hand on MacDoozle's shoulder and then said, "Good God, man, you did perfectly! Nice job! We should give you a raise! Wait - who are you again?"
"WHAT?" MacDoozle shouted. Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock - or Gwen - smiled at him as she allowed a few women to fix her makeup.
"Nice job, man," she beamed, shaking his hand. "So, like, I don't remember you being cast as the detective. Wasn't James supposed to do it? Hey, Mr. Foolicoff! Wasn't James supposed to play the detective?"
"This isn't James? Then who the hell are you?" the director man cried. "Ah, whatever. We're still using the footage." The entire crew of people that MacDoozle had failed to notice before walked away.
He groaned and ripped the page of Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock out of his notepad and fell back in his chair.
So much for a lead.