Zeke opened his eyes blearily and let out an involuntary groan. His head felt like it had been hit by a sack full of bricks and he appeared to be lying on his back on the floor underneath a table. He had the taste of stale cigar in his mouth and he was surrounded by numerous empty glasses. Momentarily disoriented, he tried to sit up and look around, but it hurt to move.  

Slowly he began to recall the events of the previous night. After he had returned from Ned's Discotheque he had stumbled into this room and interrupted some meeting between a group of weird creatures. He had a nagging feeling that something bad had happened after that, but it all blurred together in a foggy alcoholic haze. It appeared he had eventually passed out right here on the floor. 

He rolled over to his stomach and tried to push himself up. He got about halfway up and then collapsed back into a heap, letting out another groan in the process. His eyelids felt heavy and he wanted desperately to go back to sleep, but something in the back of his mind was bothering him. He forced his eyes open again and peered around as much as he could without turning his head. It appeared from this vantage point that he was the only person in the room. 

After a few minutes he felt like he could muster up the strength to at least crawl out from under the table, so he took a deep breath and inched his way out. He grabbed hold of a chair and pulled himself up into it. He then leaned forward, elbows on the table, propping up his head with his hands.  

After a few more minutes he ventured to look around. The room was in a state of complete disarray. There were empty glasses and spilled drinks everywhere along with cigar butts scattered around the table and floor. Several of the chairs were overturned and there was a big pink bra strewn over a lamp. Apparently the meeting had devolved into one hell of a party. 

Glancing around it became clear that he was completely alone at the moment. He wondered what time it was and when everyone else had left. He pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and made his way to the bathroom to relieve himself, and hopefully procure some water to drink. 

He flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and splashed some water in his face. Then he cupped his hands under the sink and drank several large gulps. 

Feeling slightly more refreshed he decided to head down to the lobby and maybe seek out some food. Then maybe he could find out his room number and meet up again with Sarah. 

At the thought of Sarah, the bothersome thing that had been nagging at the back of his mind suddenly came pouring back clearly. He had been charged with the task of killing her or being killed himself. This was a most unpleasant dilemma. Why couldn't they have asked him to kill Vance instead? That was a mission he possibly could have been receptive to, but Sarah?  

As he walked to the elevator tubes he resolved to himself that he would simply just have to avoid her at all costs. After all, if he never encountered her, he couldn't very well kill her, could he? Surely Trevor Mastodon and his cronies couldn't blame him for that. "Well, that settles that," he said aloud and felt a bit more at ease. "I just won't see Sarah at all. Problem solved." 

Unfortunately as he emerged into the lobby he bumped right into her, along with Vance and some frog-like creature. She appeared to be rather distraught. 

"Oh Zeke, there you are," she said through tears. 

"What's wrong?" Zeke asked, momentarily forgetting that he was trying to avoid her. She looked so helpless and he had an aching desire to hold her in his arms and comfort her. There wasn't much chance of that happening with Vance standing right there. Not to mention the weird frog that was staring at him suspiciously.  

Sarah started to answer but Max cut her short. "Just a minute here. Who is this guy? How do we know he didn't do it?" 

"Do what?" Zeke asked. "Who the hell are you anyway?" 

"Silence!" Max stepped up into his face. "I'll ask the questions around here. Now anyway, who are you, chump?" 

"This is our friend Zeke," Sarah spoke up. "Zeke, this is Max. He's a detective." 

"Zeke, eh?" Max rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You never mentioned any Zeke." 

"We haven't seen him since last night," Sarah explained. 

"Aha!" Max shouted. "The perfect window of opportunity to commit the crime!" 

"What crime?" Zeke asked. "What are you talking about?" 

"Oh Zeke, it's horrible," Sarah sobbed. "Somebody killed my uncle! They blew up his room in the middle of the night!" 

"What?" Zeke blinked his eyes. "But it must have been well past midnight when I was hanging out with Trevor Mastodon. And the party must have lasted until sunrise. They didn't think he was dead. Hell they didn't seem to even know where he was." 

"What were you doing hanging out with Trevor Mastodon?" Max interrogated him further. "That guy's nothing but trouble. I'll tell you what, buddy. You've just moved up to suspect number one in my book." 

"What are you talking about?" Sarah sniffed. "Who's Trevor Mastodon?" 

"Uh, well he's this guy who hates tourists and hates your uncle and was making plans with a bunch of other guys to kill him." 

"What?" Sarah stepped back in shock. "Zeke! What were you doing hanging out with that guy?" 

"See?" Max said. "I told you this guy was suspicious. I've got a sixth sense about these sorts of things. Why don't you answer her question, 'Zeke', if that is indeed your real name?" 

"Wait, you don't understand. I couldn't remember our room number so I was walking around trying a lot of different rooms. I overheard them talking about your uncle and wanting to kill him and then I, uh, well, sort of started partying with them." 

"Let me get this straight. You overheard them talking about killing my uncle and then you decided to party with them?" Sarah asked incredulously. "You fucking asshole! I can't believe you, Zeke! I thought you were a nice guy!" 

"Hey, wait, it ain't like that," Zeke stuttered. "I was trying to get information about your uncle. But they didn't know where he was. I got the impression they didn't think he was even in this hotel. They said something about he'd gone into hiding and they thought he'd be well protected. I don't think they killed him. Maybe somebody else did, but not them." 

"Hmm, this is interesting information," Max pondered. "Perhaps your uncle wasn't killed in the blast after all. Perhaps he set up the hotel room and the fake name to throw people off his trail and he's really hiding somewhere else all together! It's a brilliant plan!" 

"You really think so?" Sarah asked, letting herself become hopeful. "That would be wonderful. But then who died in the hotel room?" 

"Oh probably a maid or something," Max waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind the petty details. The important thing is we still have a case!" 

"Well, don't you think we should at least make sure that it wasn't my uncle that was killed?" 

"I suppose we could investigate the wreckage. We might turn up some clues." Whirling about suddenly, Max shoved a finger in Zeke's face. "Don't think I don't still have my eye on you, mister. You've got the face of a criminal if ever I've seen one." 

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Zeke," Sarah said sweetly rubbing her hand on his upper arm, causing him to shudder involuntarily in ecstasy. "Are you coming with us to investigate the room?" 

He was about to accept wholeheartedly when he suddenly remembered there might be dire consequences if Trevor Mastodon or any of his cronies saw him in Sarah's company. "Uh, actually, I'd love to but there's this place I really gotta go to now." 

Sarah blinked her eyes at him questioningly. "Where are you going, Zeke?" 

"Um..." he trailed off. His mind was drawing a complete blank. "It's really very important that I go to the, uh, store." 

"What store?" Sarah asked. 

"I can't tell you," Zeke replied. "It's a surprise." 

Sarah looked at him in a confused manner. "Well, okay. If you really want to go I guess I can't stop you." 

"No, but I can," Max said cockily as he whipped out a pair of bright orange handcuffs and clasped one side around Zeke's wrist. He clasped the other around his own wrist. "There, now you can't get away from me. I don't trust you and I'm not letting you out of my sight!" 

"You stupid frog!" Zeke sputtered. "You don't know what the hell you're doing!" 

"Au contraire, my friend," Max countered. "I know exactly what I'm doing! Keeping tabs on a dangerous criminal element! And besides, I'm a toad! You got that?" 

Zeke slumped his shoulders. Well, at least if Trevor Mastodon came after him he could always claim he'd been "captured" by the enemy and therefore unable to complete his mission. 

"Vance, are you coming sweetie?" Sarah asked. 

Vance had wandered off while the previous exchange had occurred. He spotted the blue skinned woman from breakfast and gathered that she was going up to her room. "Alas, my poor wretched head brings me insufferable pain! Methinks I shall return to our domicile and take my repose." 

"Aw, honey, do you have a headache? I'm sorry to hear that. Well, I guess if you want to take a nap we'll just meet up with you later?" 

"Aye," Vance replied and raced into the elevator tube after the blue skinned woman. 

"He sure seemed eager to take a nap," Max noted. "Oh well, shall we go investigate the wreckage?" 

It didn't take much effort to pry out the room number from Wendy, as she seemed disconcertingly happy to talk about the whole affair. In a few minutes they were up on the fourth floor and walking towards the end of the hallway. It was fairly obvious which room had exploded as there were large piles of debris scattered out in the hall and the walls across from it were blackened.  

Sarah had half expected to encounter some sort of police line preventing them access to the room, but instead it remained open and it didn't appear as if any effort at all had been made towards cleaning it up. Nor were there any sort of authority figures present. An ostrich in a garish yellow shirt walked out of her room on the other side, passed right by the debris, and didn't even look twice at it. Everybody seemed to be taking a decidedly nonchalant attitude towards this seemingly tragic event.  

The door had been blown completely off its hinges so they stepped over a pile of rubble and entered the room. It looked like a tornado had torn through, as large chunks of broken furniture lay scattered about everywhere. The walls were completely black and there was still a fairly heavy cloud of dust hanging in the air. The mattress of the bed remained relatively intact, although it had been blown upright against the wall.  

Max whipped out a large magnifying glass from some inner pocket and began examining the ground. After a minute of muttering incoherently to himself he let out a loud "Aha!"  

"What is it?" Sarah asked. "Have you figured something out?" 

"Of course I have," Max announced proudly. "Using my superior detective abilities I have deduced that an explosion of some sort has recently taken place in this room." 

Sarah covered her face and sighed. "You'd better start coming up with some more useful deductions or I'm going to cook up some frog legs for dinner tonight." 

"Sounds good to me, seeing as how I'm a toad. I'm rather offended that you people can't seem to keep that straight." 

"I'm rather offended that your detective skills are so lousy and I'm beginning to wonder why I ever hired you," Sarah growled. 

"Hey, do you guys hear something?" Zeke asked. 

Sarah cocked her ears and listened. There appeared to be an audible groaning sound originating from the vicinity of the mattress. 

"Good lord, the mattress is alive!" Max shouted in shock. 

"Uh, I think it's coming from behind the mattress," Zeke offered. 

"Oh, yes, of course," Max sputtered. "I knew that. I was just letting you guys share in the thrill of discovery." 

They inched up cautiously towards the mattress and Max poked at it with a long piece of twisted metal he had picked up off the ground. 

"Ouch!"  

"Okay, there's definitely somebody behind the mattress," Max concurred. "I guess we should move it out of the way and see who's there. On the count of three, are you ready? One, two, three!"  

He tossed the mattress aside and leaped backwards, yanking Zeke with him. A small dazed looking dog with its clothes and hair completely singed off was embedded in the wall halfway up to the ceiling. It blinked a few times and let out another groan. "Where am I?" 

"Cuthbert?" Zeke asked. 

"Yeah," Cuthbert replied shakily. 

"You know this man?" Max asked suspiciously. 

"Well, we met him earlier when we were springing Vance from the jail," Zeke explained. "He also kind of helped us get a room in this hotel." 

"Cuthbert what are you doing here?" Sarah asked. 

"It was the strangest thing," he whispered. "Right after I got off work last night I was approached by this strange old man. Called himself Octavio or something like that. Anyway, he said he had a room here he wasn't using and asked me if I'd like to take it off his hands. I'm never one to turn down a free room so I said sure. So then I headed down to the southeastern quadrant, picked up a lady of the evening, and brought her back here. She was wearing some really heavy perfume of some sort and I can only guess that it must have been flammable because right after we'd finished making love she lit up a cigarette and the next thing I knew the whole place had gone up in flames. The mattress must have insulated me from the worst of it, but I think I've been unconscious for a while. Anyway, how's Fifi? Did she survive?" 

"Who's Fifi?" Sarah asked. 

"The lady I was with." 

"I'm afraid not, son," Max said stoically.  

"Well, that's all right," Cuthbert said. "I couldn't actually afford to pay her anyway. Say, do you think there's any chance you guys could peel me off of this wall?"

* * *

Vance rolled off the blue skinned woman and lay next to her panting. "Perchance thou couldst allow me a few moments respite and then I believe I shall be ready to begin again." 

"No more, baby," she replied stroking his arm. "You're too much man for me." 

He put his arm around her and held her closely. Vance was always kind of horny, but he had noticed a rather sharp increase in his libido lately, as well as his endurance. He had already had a go with this woman five times until she had insisted he stop. All this after a lengthy night with Sarah. Usually he was only good for a quick seven minute burst and then needed to sleep it off. And cuddling was absolutely out of the question. Something very strange was afoot. 

"I've just got to ask," the woman purred. "What's the deal with keeping your shirt on?" 

"This garment shall not be questioned!" Vance said more angrily than he meant to. 

"Okay, sorry I asked," she replied as she stroked his cheek gently. 

Truthfully, Vance wasn't sure why he wouldn't remove his shirt, but every time the thought had crossed his mind he felt very negatively about the idea. Overall it didn't concern him too much so he shrugged it off and continued caressing the woman.

* * *

Prince Grover enjoyed the company of women very much and felt quite fortunate to have a host body that seemed to attract them easily, as ridiculously stupid and mean spirited as it was. Nonetheless he remained aware that he had work to do so after a suitable amount of time had passed he manipulated Vance into excusing himself, giving the woman a passionate goodbye kiss, and promising to call her. After that he headed downstairs and off to the marketplace. He had some very important errands to run and several more items to acquire before he could perform the restoration rituals. He made Vance whistle a merry little tune to himself and went about his way.

* * *

After prying Cuthbert off the wall and sending him home, Max felt rather stumped about which direction they should take the investigation. Zeke suggested that perhaps they should have a couple drinks over at Smelly Pete's Tavern while they figured out what to do. A few drinks might help ease his hangover. Max agreed this was indeed a sensible course of action, so they headed over there despite Sarah's protests that they weren't likely to accomplish much other than to get drunk. 

The bartender seemed a bit more timid than yesterday, remembering the abuse he had suffered at Sarah's hands. He brought them a round of some sort of translucent liquid and served them without comment. Sarah sipped slowly at her drink, which had a harsh alcohol taste to it, but wasn't too bad. Zeke and Max, on the other hand, chugged theirs right down and were ordering their fourth rounds before she had finished her first. 

Before too long Zeke and Max were clinking glasses together, telling jokes loudly, and generally annoying the other patrons of the bar. 

"Maxwell, old chum," Zeke slurred. 

"What is it, Zeke, my old pal?" 

"I don't suppose there's any chance you could undo the handcuffs, is there, my dear chap?" 

"Son, I love you like my own son," Max said, holding a wobbly index finger in the air and teetering back and forth on his barstool. "However, I'm afraid I can't do that." 

"Why not?" Zeke hiccupped. "Don't you trust me?" 

"Sure I do, old buddy. But you see, I seem to have misplaced the key temporarily. But don't worry. I've got a lot of pockets. I'm sure it'll turn up eventually." 

"What is it with people losing keys around this place?" Zeke shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. "Cuthbert couldn't find the key for what's his face either. You know, that big goon Sarah's always hanging out with." 

"You mean Vance?" Sarah asked disinterestedly. 

"Yeah, that guy," Zeke said. "You know, between you and me, I don't know what you see in him anyway." 

"Me neither," Max exclaimed. "Especially when you've got a prime specimen of mean green love machine right here eager to please! And you know, we amphibians are very versatile by our nature." 

"Well, for starters, Vance is a great guy who cares about more than sex. He's not a perverted drunkard like you two. I swear, Zeke, I never realized you drank so much." 

"Welcome to my world, baby," Zeke belched. "Shall we have another round, Maxwell old buddy?" 

"I believe I do foresee another round in our future, Zeke old chum." Max blinked his eyes for a moment and then smacked his forehead. "That's it! Why didn't I think of that before?" 

"What?" Sarah asked. 

"We can look into the future!" 

"We can?" 

"Well, in a manner of speaking," Max explained. "Quartzwater City does have a very strong prophet industry. It all started with the legendary Morton the Mystic. Every prophecy he ever predicted came true, including his own untimely death by grand piano. It was the strangest thing. He was walking down the street when a grand piano fell out of the sky and squashed him. Quite tragic really. Anyway a whole slew of prophets and fortunetellers sprung up in his wake. Most of them are charlatans, but there's a few that have pretty good track records. I swear, I don't know why I waste my time talking to a mere gossip gatherer like Hazim when there are all these prophets out there. Then again, they do tend to be a bit pricier." 

"Well, we've got a few canisters of floss we could spend if they're legitimate," Sarah said. 

"Yeah, that can be a tough call," Max said. "Some of them are very skilled conmen. I'm pretty sure Skip is the real deal though." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Well, for starters, near as anyone can tell he appears to be moving backwards through time." 

"How exactly does that work?" Zeke asked as he got the bartender's attention and ordered another round of drinks. 

"Well, I don't know the exact mechanics of it but he walks around and performs tasks backwards. He also seems to get younger with every passing day. But more importantly Skip 'remembers' the future, since for him it's the past. It can be a little frustrating talking to him though because he doesn't remember things that happened five minutes earlier, because from his perspective they haven't happened yet."  

"That's pretty weird," Zeke said as he paid the bartender and handed Max his drink. 

"You don't know the half of it, Zeke old pal," he said as they clinked glasses together and shot down their drinks. "Conversations with him are very strange. He'll answer you before you've even asked him a question, but then you have to go through the motion of asking him the question anyway for his benefit." 

"If he's already answered you why do you need to ask the question afterwards? Isn't that redundant?" 

"For us, maybe, but you forget. The only reason Skip's able to answer your question in the first place is because he already heard you ask it in your future." 

"But what happens if you don't ask it after he gives you the answer?" 

"He won't give you the answer in the first place because he didn't hear you ask any questions. If you don't ask the question right after he gives you the answer there won't be any answer. The two of you will just stare dumbly at each other in silence. Believe me, I've been through it before. It sounds weird, but it's the only way to communicate with him." 

"This is making my head spin," Zeke muttered. "Then again, maybe it's the alcohol."  

Sarah sat back on her stool thoughtfully. "Well, if this guy's for real, it sounds like it's worth a shot. We don't really have any other leads to follow at the moment. Are you two sober enough to find this Skip guy now?" 

"Well, I'm not sure 'sober' is the word I would use to describe my condition at the moment," Max giggled. "But maybe we can walk this off. What do you say, Zeke old friend?" 

"I think I need to take a leak," Zeke responded. "I guess since you're still cuffed to me you're going to have to come along for the adventure." 

"Well, okay, but don't expect me to hold your willy for you." 

They stood up unsteadily and made their way towards the restroom. Unfortunately there was a large "Out of Service" sign posted on the door and there didn't seem to be any other restrooms in the joint. 

"Aw man," Zeke whined. "I really need to go." 

"Fear not, old buddy," Max slurred. "We can always go outside. What is nature if not one gigantic toilet?" 

"Wait here a minute, Sarah," Zeke said as they wobbled their way out the door. "We'll be right back." 

They wandered around to the side of the building and Zeke was in the process of unzipping his shorts when Max grabbed his shoulder. "Hold up there, buddy. There's a cop right over there." 

Zeke glanced over his shoulder to see a large monkey in a dark green Hawaiian shirt with a conspicuous badge pinned to it go lumbering by. "Christ, I can't hold it much longer. Let's slip around to the back of the building." 

They quickly rounded the corner and discovered a pink bunny rabbit in tattered clothes passed out on the ground. They stepped over him and found an overgrown patch of weeds nestled up against the side of the building. 

"This looks like as good of a place as any," Zeke said as he began to relieve himself. 

"Hey, watch where you're pointing that thing," he heard a gruff voice say. He looked down to notice a medium sized red flower growing among the weeds. In the center of the petals was a small human-like baby face. 

"Uh, I'm sorry," Zeke said sheepishly. "I didn't see you down there. Also I wasn't really expecting a flower to talk to me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised by anything around here." 

"What, are you a tourist or something? You're getting everything all messy. Damn it, man, how'd you like it if I came into your house and took a big smelly dump? Take your ridiculously tiny wiener elsewhere!"  

"Well I'll be damned," Max said as he leaned in for a closer look. "Look, Zeke. It's a full-grown Baby Orchid. I thought these things had all died out." 

"Hey, do you mind?" Zeke asked. "I'm doing my business here. A little privacy, eh?" 

"Privacy?" the flower asked incredulously. "Hell, you're giving me the whole free show, pathetic as it is. Why not share it with him, too?" 

"All right, all right, I'm almost finished. Jeez, you ought to be glad you're getting watered. Although most of that's probably liquor. I hope you like to get drunk." 

"Damn it!" the flower spat. "You're lucky I'm rooted to this spot or I'd smack the shit out of you!" 

"Oh, like I'm really scared of a stupid little flower," Zeke laughed as he zipped up.  

"I've got friends!" the flower shouted. "I swear you'll pay for this!" 

"Yeah, whatever," Zeke said dismissively. "Well, Maxwell? Shall we carry on with our journey?" 

"But of course," Max bowed his head. "We've got a date with destiny, so to speak. Off we go." 

They traveled halfway across town by Roto-Bus before they realized they had forgotten Sarah.