You know it’s funny, the afterlife looks a lot more like the soap store than I would have guessed. I suppose that means I didn’t get in to heaven.

“Do you need us to call you an ambulance?” It came as no surprise to me that Sally hadn’t made it in either. “Sir?”

Wait a minute.... Had I survived? Were my immune system and poison resistance training really enough to save my life from whatever horrible toxins she had forced down my throat?

“This is my fault I’m sorry.” Trying to make it look like an accident in front of all these people? You’re going to have to try a little harder than that. “Here take the basket, we always give dissatisfied customers free merchandise.”

I leapt to my feet, grabbing up the Birkenstocks and assuming a good fighting stance to use them if necessary. I knew the only reason she would try to hand me that basket was if there was a bomb inside so I swung the shoes and knocked it flying out of her hands with a powerful blow. I was very appreciative at that moment that Foot World would use such a sturdy elastic band for tying their shoes together and even wondered if Director Ydnar had instructed them to do it for such nun-chucking purposes. He was always thinking ahead and very resourceful.

Expecting the bomb to go off any minute, I turned around to run for the exit, only to realize I was trapped. The hazy brightly colored mess in front of me would be impossible to navigate. I looked down only to realize I was more injured from the poisoning incident than I had thought before. There was a red blood trail on the floor and the strawberry sauce was everywhere too. It and the churro had been smashed and were staining the inside of my snazzy overcoat. I couldn’t find the source of the bleeding so all I could do was hope I didn’t pass out from blood loss as I confronted Sally.

“All right you poisoner!” It wasn’t very clever but do keep in mind I was suffering from blood loss. “Get to your feet!” She stood up from trying to reconstruct the pieces of the basket bomb. 

“What about a 15% off coupon for your next visit, to make it up to you?” She was getting too close, I needed to think fast. She ducked as I hurled a bottle of perfume in her direction. It hit the display behind her and exploded into smelly, glittery cloud. I knew they were bombs. At this point I wasn’t going to be bringing exploding soap back to H.Q. and was positive Director Ydnar would understand the safety concerns. 

I started running east, looking for any sign of an exit. Just as I thought Sally had lost my scent she popped up in front of me like a ghost. “What about a 30% off coupon?!” 

She wasn’t quite close enough for me to swing the Birkenstocks and land a solid hit so I looked around for anything that might be useful. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact that their products were dangerous anymore as the tall display next to me was clearly labeled "Bath Bombs" and not in a "watch out for hazardous materials" type way but with happy looking pink and yellow letters. My stomach turned at the thought of the warped mind who thought it would be a fun idea. 

It was the only option left so I grabbed one, ripped the package open with my teeth and threw it as I ran in the opposite direction. I never heard the explosion and wondered if it was a dud. I tried running in a zigzag pattern to further my chances of getting away safely but also to avoid running into the other customers. 

“We hate leaving our customers unhappy! How about 50% off?!” I don’t know how she did it but she popped up in front of me again. Maybe there were clones located throughout the building. 

I had been running in the wrong direction as I could see the checkout line right behind her. My instincts told me she was only fast on the ground and that meant I needed to get up onto the display shelves. I used the Birkenstocks as a grappling hook and flung myself on top of a shampoo display case. From there I could see the tops of other displays laid out like stepping stones in front of me. All I could do was take the jump and hope they led me to the exit. 

I took the first leap and landed safely on top of the next shelf. “We have a perfect five star review record! Please don’t be rash!” She was climbing up after me like a savage, bloodthirsty monkey and I needed to move faster.

I continued to leap from display to display, as they went crashing down behind me like dominoes. But she was gaining on me. I hurried with a new vigor as I saw the exit doors up ahead. I heard her fall behind me with a crashing sound. I could only hope it was enough to keep her occupied until I could get out. It was so close I could taste it. I jumped down from the display shelves and made a mad dash for the exit. 

“Lock the doors! Lock the doors!” She shouted into a walkie-talkie as she ran up behind me. She leapt with her arms outstretched to try and stop me but fell just short as I barely made it out, with the doors slamming shut and locking behind me. She pounded up against the closed doors trying to call me back but I ran straight to my car and started the engine. 

The engine started no problem and I was eager to get out of there. Who had given her inside information that she knew who I was even with my disguise? I had just started to pull out of the parking lot when I remembered I had ruined the churro and strawberry dipping sauce and would need a replacement. 

The Birkenstocks were a size 13 regular instead of wide, but he would probably let me off easy on that one. Sure I couldn’t get the lavender soap due to safety issues but the large churro and strawberry dipping sauce being destroyed because of my own carelessness? I’d be removed from the force immediately. The only thing I’d gotten completely right was the food-processor and while 1 out of 4 isn’t bad, I knew it wouldn’t make it past Director Ydnar’s strict standards. I had no other choice than to turn around and go back to Fried Foods are Us. 

I ran inside, careful to lay low in case Sally had escaped her soapy prison and followed me in. As I approached the counter I heard a couple of eerily familiar voices behind me. At first I wasn’t sure but once I’d snuck a peek I was certain. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Granny’s spies of death from Foot World were right behind me and from the looks of it, ready to carry out their plans of assassination. 

Normally my instincts would tell me staying in a public setting would hinder the chances of being killed in cold blood. Who would risk it with so many witnesses around? It seems a safe bet to stay put, right? Wrong. After being so boldly poisoned back at Sally’s Sudsy Soaps I didn’t know what to believe. For all I knew, everyone around me could be a spy. Come to think of it, that would explain Todd’s lack of gratitude. 

I had to know who the enemy was in order to avoid harming any innocent customers and would need to perform a test. I never appreciated my quick thinking ability more than in that moment, as I grabbed a dozen napkins from a nearby dispenser. The timing had to be just right but I knew I could pull it off. The one time origami class I went to a few months back would prove most useful as I skillfully folded the napkins into ninja stars and prepared to throw them. It was my turn in line at the churro counter and also time for the first phase of the test. I would order my churro and strawberry dipping sauce in a particular code specific to S.S.N. agents. It was a different employee than before that I didn’t recognize, but something about the sincere way she rolled the freshly fried churros in sugar before handing it to the customer in a little paper bag made me think they were one of the good guys. 

“I’day ikelay oneay argelay urrochay anday awberrystray ippingday aucesay easeplay.” Which roughly translates to: ‘I’d like one large churro with strawberry dipping sauce please.’ 

“Esyay, irsay.” Or: ‘Yes sir.’ This response confirmed to me that they were an S.S.N. agent. So I relayed to her the rest of my plan in code.

“Inay entay econdsay, I’may oinggay otay owthray injanay arsstay atay ethay enemyay agentsay ehindbay emay. Iay eednay ouya otay ackbay emay upay.” ‘In ten seconds, I’m going to throw ninja stars at the enemy agents behind me. I need you to back me up.’ They paused briefly and said nothing until I was already at eight seconds. 

“Ywhay?” ‘Why?’ But it was too late now for me to explain further, I was already twirling around ready to throw the first star. 

They seemed frightened, which was good. It meant I had the element of surprise. With a loud yell I threw the first star. Enemy agent #1 ducked as it grazed the top of his hair. At the sight of this Becky (according to her name tag, but considering she was in the spy business it was probably an alias) came running out from behind the counter with a rolling pin to back me up. 

“Ownay atwhay?” ‘Now what?’ She shouted to me over the commotion. 

“Ustjay ollowfay ouryay ainingtray!” ‘Just follow your training!’ I threw the next star at enemy agent #2 as he leapt out of the way, landing in the laps of some customers enjoying a family outing. The fact that everyone was leaving the scene instead of backing them up was a good sign it would be an even match. Becky and I against Granny’s two spies. 

Becky must have had some previous combat experience on the field, because she looked like a natural lunging towards them with the rolling pin. She swung at enemy agent #1 but he ripped off a chair leg and used it to block her. She seemed to have him covered as they swung back and forth like a swordfight so I moved my focus to enemy agent #2. 

He was back on his feet and charging towards me, as I threw the next star. It poked him in the eye, leaving him temporarily blinded and slipping on the greasy floor and into the churro counter. I threw two this time, one for his throat and one for his hand that was reaching for the tubs of plastic silverware. I got him in the neck, but wasn’t able to stop him in time from grabbing a plastic knife. I dodged as he charged towards me. He slipped and went sliding on his belly across the tile floor and into the doughnut department. He crashed into the tables before pulling himself back up and flinging himself like a bowling ball rolling on the floor towards my legs. I got out of the way in time but he ended up knocking Becky and enemy agent #1 onto their backsides. 

Becky was resilient and was able to pin enemy agent #2 to the floor while I nabbed the other. We dragged them to the kitchen and tied their hands together with some long licorice ropes she had found in the back. We propped them up next to the fry baskets and prepared for an interrogation. 

“All right you low-life scum!” Becky was off to a good start. “Who do you work for?” 

“Foot World.” Enemy agent #1 replied obviously shook by our professional response to the attack. “We’re still wearing the uniforms.”

Becky looked at me for confirmation but I shook my head. The Foot World thing was nothing more than a front and they were naive indeed to think that a couple of trained spies wouldn’t see right through it. I was going to have to weasel the truth out of them. 

“So you mean to tell me, that names ‘Granny’ and ‘Fluffanut Prince’ mean nothing to you?” 

“I have a Granny.”#2 spoke up before being kicked in the side by #1. 

“Wait a minute... Did you say Fluffanut?” I was surprised number #1 was willing to crack so soon. “That buggy looking little dog, with the bloodthirsty killer instincts? That Fluffanut Prince?”

No, the other one. “Yes. When did Granny hire you?” 

“About three weeks ago. She said she was getting too old to handle things by herself anymore.” This revealed that not only was Granny a spy, but she’d been a spy for quite some time. I felt so stupid. How had I missed it all these years? 

“What group do you work for?” 

“Group? What are you-" Becky began pulling out her rolling pin. "Okay, okay!" He winced. "I’m a dog walker. It’s just a temporary second job to get through the summer. But it’s only on Wednesdays, I swear!”

This was how I first discovered the existence of the D.O.G.W.A.L.K.E.R. group. My knowledge of their existence would change the way I operated in the future. I knew we had enemies in S.S.N. but I had no idea they were so organized.

It took me a while, but I eventually figured out what the letters in D.O.G.W.A.L.K.E.R. stood for: Don’t over Garden We Always Like Knocking Every Rooster. I still haven’t quite figured out precisely what it means, but I think I’m getting close.

We had the only information we really needed out of them, so assuming they didn’t eat through their restraints, I’d have to leave them for the police to clean up. Becky’s shift was over, but she was kind enough to make me a churro and dipping sauce before she went home for the day. 

My mission for the day had been accomplished through sweat and tears. But boy is it a gratifying feeling to report back to H.Q. and receive one of those standard issue "Well Done" stickers from the roll Director Ydnar keeps in his desk. It’s just like his mug full of pencils says: "A man’s gotta do, what a man’s gotta do". No matter what it may mean for your relationships with the local businesses or your grandmother.

Next Chapter: Healthy Monkey