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The Homeless Pickpocket vs. the Well-dressed Lady

"Give it back!" the adolescent, yellow mongoose's voice almost echoes in the big, earthen lot, located at the center of a labyrinthine system of back alleys. His frustration has been mounting from chasing the well-dressed woman through the complex passages of the city. His normally disheveled, orange hair and straight, light yellow fur are matted down with a light veil of sweat from the pursuit.

The lady in question--the sandy brown monkey in the black blouse, dress pants, and red heels--dangles the homeless youth's precious small, grey pouch teasingly in front of him. "You are one to talk, young herpeste." As she continues speaking, she places the bag into her red purse, the strap of which was hanging over her shoulder, and zips it up. "You tried to take the money right out of my pocket, only to have something valuable to you snatched right out of yours. I believe that is what the literary scholars refer to as poetic justice. However, if you want it back, all you have to do is get by me." She expertly tosses the handbag over her head to land on an old yet sturdy crate three yards behind her.

The young man, gritting his teeth, plants his dirty, worn out, holey, white tennis shoes into the ground, keeping his arms at his sides. "You don't know who you're messing with,

old woman!" The younger mammal's crass words and forsaken appearance--torn, sleeveless, white shirt and ripped, light blue, denim jeans--make him seem like a common street punk.

"Who are you calling old?" the simian casually asks as she tightens the ponytail of her flowing, raven hair. "I'll have you know I'm only forty-five. Oh, and for the record, I think I know exactly what I'm dealing with." Standing erect, the elder fur raises one hand, palm upward, in front of her while she bends her elbow and hides the other behind her back. She lifts her digits in readiness and says, "Have at me, boy."

"I gotta make this quick," the mongoose thinks to himself. "Just enough to disable her temporarily and grab my pouch. I don't even care about the money at this point." The sunny hued teen closes his eyes, raises his right arm to the sky, and slowly brings his palm down to his chest level. "That should do it."

"It's rude to keep a lady waiting, lad." The monkey's un-affected, matter of fact voice causes the teenager's eyes to open wide in surprise. The middle-aged woman stands in her same position, giving the boy a snide, superior smile. "I'm quite the busy woman, so you need to hurry up and resolve our issue." She cuts her electric blue eyes at the boy, who is about six yards away from her. The simian's voice changes to a more demeaning tone. "That is, unless, you want me to keep whatever it is you have in that pouch, boy."

The teen's face turns red with agitation from the pompous demeanor the older woman is projecting towards him. "Fine!" His booming tone is proof of his rash, impulsive, temperament. "You want me to turn up the pressure? Then, get ready for this, old woman!" The provoked mongoose raises both paws to the sky and, bending his knees to lower his body, brings them both down upon the earthen ground. A blue wave of energy surges forth from his body and heads directly for the monkey, tumbling, plowing, and cracking the ground. The azure mass makes contact, and a thick cloud of dust is kicked up, covering the damage done. "There, maybe now you won't be so quick to toss who I am away. And my name's not boy; it's Vincent."

The adolescent mammal stands and wipes his paws together in victory, but he is caught off-guard again by the primate's voice. "Well, Vincent, I must say that was impressive." The smoke quickly clears revealing the monkey to be untouched, aside from the dark red dirt covering her clothes and fur. She proceeds to brush off her bare arms and black pants as she continues her talking. "You are very powerful; rather, you have the potential to be. While your Wavelength is strong, it's very raw and unfocused, as evidenced by the irregular shape your energy has left on the ground." She points to the ground's fractures, the pattern of which expands and contracts the sinuously like a sound wave. The grouping of cracks ends in a v-shape with her standing at its apex.

The skinny, destitute teen can only look at the woman in utter disbelief. "There's no way...You...You were not even affected by my Down Force. You shouldn't be conscious, let alone standing...And what do you mean by Wavelength?"

"Down Force? Is that what you've named it? And you are not familiar with what it is that you are using. This is all very interesting, but we have business to attend to." She turns around and begins walking to her purse. "Besides, it would be a waste of my valuable time trying to explain such a scientific concept to a mere boy." The monkey turns on her heal when she hears the sprinting footsteps of the hepestid. When he ties to bypass her, the elder fur quickly grabs him by the arm, turns 270 degrees on her red heels, and sends the mongoose running toward a back wall of one of the windowless buildings.

Vincent closes his eyes and focuses to project a cushion of energy in front of his body. He hits the wall just as a mass of azure energy forms between him and the structure, causing the brick and concrete wall to be pushed into the shape of the teen's body. The energy dissipates and Vincent turns around. After catching his breath, the boy exclaims to the simian, "If your time is so valuable then give me back what you took, and you can go on your way!" The youth's amber eyes lock onto the woman. "I can't lose what's in the bag; It's too important," He thinks to himself.

The monkey has unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her white, sleeveless undershirt, and is folding it up as the younger mammal recovers. "That is the problem with the young: an unwillingness to let things go." She lays down her folded blouse on the crate and unzips her hand bag and pulls out the pouch. "Whatever is in this bag must be of great personal importance to you." She turns to face Vincent and dangle the small, grey bag from her paw. "I can spare just a little more time for this, boy, but I don't have terribly much longer before I need to return to my home and start dinner. She takes the pouch and places it in the left back pocket of her jet black pants and assumes the same ready pose she took moments before. "I'll give you one more chance. Here's a hint, you may do better coming at me with a frontal assault."

Vincent, now incensed by the condescending air of the woman in front of him, raises his paws up to his chest, causing two tennis ball sized pieces of compacted earth to rise about him. He thrusts them forward causing them to fly towards high velocity at the monkey.

The simian does not move until the earthen balls are right in front of her. She closes her eyes, and, using two digits on one paw, she touches one ball causing it to crumble. Immediately, she performs the same simple action on the other. "Nice try, boy." Her voice is calm and condescending. "However, it'll take much more than that to unbalance me." She opens her eyes to see that she is floating on a small mound of solid earth twenty feet of the ground. "Maybe he's figured me out. I'm impressed," she calmly thinks to herself as she jumps off the platform and lands right in the young mongoose's path. Before he can turn to dodge her, she uses her index and middle fingers on both hands, thrusting one into the teenage fur's left shoulder and another into his right thigh.

The youth falls forward to the ground unable to move his left arm or right leg. "I can't move...It doesn't hurt, but my limbs won't move like I want them." Vincent looks up to the she monkey standing in front of him. "What...What did you do to me, old...woman?"

Stretching her forepaws to the air as she bends backwards slightly, the monkey looks to the sky and declares, "I simply hit two of your body's pressure points. You will only be immobile for a few moments, which should be plenty enough time for you to tell me your story, Vincent." The simian kneels on one knee, pulls the tiny pouch out her pocket, and places the trinket in the lad's moveable paw. "I still have about an hour before my wife usually has diner ready. I have nowhere to go, and you're not going anywhere. So, young one, tell me the story behind what is in that pouch."