“What's good, Smallfry?” He chuckled, patting Zira on the back

“Phew! You smell like gasoline!” She giggled, wafting the smell away from her sensitive nose with her paw.

“Eh, yeah. I was working on my motorcycle.” He smiled sweetly. His eyes wandered over to Drummond. “You must be Zira’s husbando.” He said, using one hand to hold up his belt and another to shake Drummond’s hand. His Alabamian accent could finally be heard by Drummond as the jet’s engines silenced themselves.

“DMC,” replied Drummond flatly.

“Major,” Major replied, smiling awkwardly. “Anyway, I got my bike running, so let’s get going  before sun down.” Major trailed off to a bright red Yamaha bike, picking up Zira’s bags. Zira trailed after him quickly, giggling and cooing over his bike. Drummond growled under his breath, his ears scanning the tarmat to see if anyone had witnessed his middle finger fly up when Major and Zira had turned their backs to him.

 DMC picked up his bags grumpily, jogging after them. Major kicked the bike off its kickstand, helping Zira onto it. He put a helmet onto Zira’s head and his own.

DMC had finally caught up with them. “I don’t think I will fit.” Drummond sighed.

“Of course not! That’s why I gotcha a bike!” Major exclaimed, pointing his hoof towards a bike that matched Major’s. This bike was a pristine white. “Zira told me you rode, so I figured you’d enjoy a nice, fitting bike.” He smiled. DMC scanned his face. There seemed to be no sign of an ill emotion. But he felt the presence of something more. DMC grabbed the white helmet from off the handlebars, slipping onto his head, adjusting his large canine ears to fit into it. He slid the key into the bike, turning it. The bike started immediately. The purring of the bike was harmonious and rhythmic. He mounted the bike, kicking off the kickstand.

“Ready?” Major said, giving him a mischievous and almost daring side look. DMC nodded. Major pushed off the tar-mat, speeding into the road. The desolate roads were surrounded by grass and a few houses speckled around here and there. The bikes’ wheels threw up dust and rocks as the men rode side by side, racing each other. DMC gritted his teeth. This was more than a race to him. It was a competition to show who was the alpha male. He wanted to show Major that he couldn’t just step on him. And he wanted to show Zira that he was better than this pig. His paws gripped the handlebars. The rubber dug into his paw pads like thorns. He adjusted the visor on his helmet, grunting. Dust and mud pelted their helmets as Zira shrieked and screamed with exhilaration. 

They were neck and neck. Major was laughing, his face sweating. Zira had her arms wrapped around Major’s chest. This infuriated Drummond. He wasn’t jealous. Drummond never got jealous. Other men were always jealous of him. But his face was red with rage as he went full throttle, pushing past Major. He turned sharply. This was a bad idea. The bike skidded across the road into the grass, bringing poor Drummond with it. Drummond was hurled from the road. Major halted to a stop, balancing his bike with his hooves. He gently let Zira down off the bike, putting it on its kickstand. Major and Zira rushed over where DMC lay. Zira sat next to him, grabbing his arm. “Drummy! Are you ok?!” Zira screeched, terrified and worried. 

“Ye-yeah just stop pulling my arm. My paw hurts.” He replied, coughing. His white fur was splattered and stained with mud.

“Are you bleeding?!” She exclaimed, examining his legs and arms. She gasped when her eyes darted over to a small cut on his chin. “That cut doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” 

“No, it's just mainly my wrist,” He replied, cringing. Major pulled him up by his good arm. “I’ll be able to ride back.” He sighed. 

“You might be able to, but your bike migh’ not feel the same.” Major piped up.

 He picked up the bike, propping it up in grass by its kickstand.  Zira scurried around, picking up DMC’s fallen luggage.

“Lemme get that for ya, Smallfry,” Major sighed, taking the bags from her, putting them onto the grass stained bike as DMC stood there, helpless. Major circled the bike twice. “I think the gas just got stirred up a bit and the fuel tank has a dent in it,” Major said, focused. “You should be able to make it back home, unless there was damage I didn’t notice; which I doubt there is.” Major walked off to his bike. 

“Be more careful next time. I don’t want you getting hurt, Drum,” Zira whined, turning tail and walking towards Major on his bike. Major helped her own, sliding her and his helmets back on their heads. He started up the bike, zooming away. When they were far enough away, DMC pounded his fist onto the bike seat, snarling with rage and pain. He threw on his helmet violently. He jumped on the bike, disregarding his own safety again. He started the bike, racing off after them, a stabbing pain starting up in his wrist again.

He caught up with them as they pulled into the driveway of a large cabin. It was rustic looking on the outside. Zira ran inside, bags swaying from her arms. Major grabbed his utility belt and his toolbag, walking up slowly to Drummond and his motorbike. He started looking over the bike. 

“Hey Major,” Drummond said, gritting his teeth, baring his large, sharp canine teeth. He waltzed up to Major. The boar turned around, his golden earrings flashing in the sun

“Humma?” Is all Major could ask before Drummond drove his fist across Major’s snout, cutting his knuckles on Major’s long tusks that protruded from his mouth. Major tumbled backward a foot, a bit taken by surprise. He charged up to DMC, tackling him. Major stood over him, his hooves stepping on Drummond’s biceps. Drummond snarled and snapped at Major’s ankles, and finally threw his legs into Major’s gut. Major snatched up DMC, pulling him into a headlock. Drummond sunk his teeth into Major’s large forearm, drawing blood.  Suddenly, the door of the cabin bursted open, slamming against the brick.

 Zira ran out, her head swiveling around to spot the source of the racket. Her eyes went wide as they glanced at the two animals in the driveway. She rushed over, pulling Major off of Drummond with incredible strength. Drummond collapsed onto the gravel drive, gasping for air, blood dripping from his mouth. 

  “What the hell?!” Zira shrieked. “What’s going on, Major?!” She ran up to Major, who was wiping the bloody holes in his arms with a rag he had. He had a cut on his forehead and a bruise seemed to be forming near his left eye. 

  “Ask your husband!” He shrieked, his brows furrowing in disgust. “He jumped me!”

“Drummond?!” ZIra screamed, grasping the doberman’s arms tightly. DMC regained his breath.

“He was trying to take you away from me, Z!” He gasped. “You expect me just to be stepped on?!” His eyes went wide, the blue fading to a pale white. Zira pulled DMC down by his shirt collar.

“Drummond,” Zira whispered into his large ear. “He’s married, Drum.” DMC’s eyes went wide. He pulled himself off his knees, approaching Major meekly.

“Oh uhm, my apologies Major,” DMC said, straightening the collar on Major's leather jacket nervously.

“He gets just a bit jealous,” Zira sighed.

“You thought I was flirting with Smallfry?” Major said, giving DMC a look of disbelief. The way his expression was made it seem as though Major was saying, “Is there something wrong with you?!”

“Yeah, stupid of me.” 

“Very. She’s like my lil’ sister. I was born an’ raised with her.”

“I’m sorry about your arm. And your face,” Drummond spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. Sweat dripped down his face, gliding on top of his fur. 

“Uh its fine man but like, don’t just go punching people left and right,” Major said, rubbing his cheek.

 Major held out a hoof for Drummond to shake. Drummond took his hoof, embarrassed at how he reacted. Drummond ripped a pistol from his pocket, aiming it right at Drummond’s head. “Hey Smallfry, ya’ ready to get that inheritance?” Drummond stopped dead in his tracks.

“Wait wh-” Is all he could mutter before his body hit gravel.  Zira rushed over, grabbing DMC’s wallet from his jeans’ on his body. She threw the wallet open, flipping through the bills furiously. She shoved the wallet into her pocket with an exhilaration she had never felt before. Major quickly wiped down his gun, walking into the woods silently, picking up a shovel on the way. Zira sat in the drive, trying to muster up tears. She knelt by the body, forcing herself to sob. Zira quickly grabbed the phone from her pocket, dialing a specific number.

“Please help! My husband! He’ s dead!” screeched Zira. She sobbed and sniffled into the phone. She quickly told the person on the other end her location. She dropped her ears and tail, putting on her act.

Two patrol cars pulled up about 20 minutes later. A labradoodle and a serpent exited both cars. The labradoodle walked up quickly to Zira.

“Ma’am, what happened?” The officer said, flipping his shaggy, golden fur from his eyes.

“I was inside watching TV when I heard some ruckus and a shot! I rushed out as quick as I could!” Zira gripped the officer’s sleeve, mascara running down her face, staining her fur. The serpent slithered up to them both, placing his tail onto the corpse.

“Is he- dead?” Zira said, wide-eyed with tears dripping down her face.

“Unfortunately, yes,” The snake spoke, sighing. An ambulance zoomed into the driveway. 

“Did you see who had shot your husband? Like anything at all?” The lab spoke, pulling out a notepad. 

“No, I didn’t,” She said, looking up at the officers with big eyes. 

“Do you know who would want to harm him? For any reason? Did he have enemies?”

“No he was an amazing man. Very talented and kind.”

“He wasn’t having an affair, or anything unfaithful that you had found out about?” 

“He wasn’t really a people person, so I doubt he’d do anything like that,” She sobbed, falling back to her knees near the body. The paramedics helped her up, taking the body up onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. 

“It's okay ma’am. We’ll find who did this. We will get you the will as soon as we register this into the system.”

“I don’t want the will! I want my husband back!” Zira sobbed, clinging onto the officer, putting on one heck of a show. 

“Ma’am please,” spoke the labradoodle and the snake as they tore her off the labradoodle. They brought her back into the cabin as they searched around for clues. Their search, unsuccessful, was brought to a halt. The officers bid her farewell and left her alone. Well not quite alone. After the officers had gone for a while, Major entered the cabin, boots full of mud.

“Evening Smallfry. They bought it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ ‘Course,” Zira smirked, clicking the remote on the TV. Major plopped onto the couch, yawning.