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BAD TAXPAYERS (HH)

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Hello, everyone!

It is a pleasure to be back once again with this chapter, and I hope you will enjoy this, as always, I am anxious to hear what you shall think about it.

Have a wonderful read!

Cheers!

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I can't pretend that I've always done the right thing in life, also when it comes to the law. I've also been trying to be a good boy as of late. Being completely dependent on the kindness of the state doesn't work well together with being a crook, but considering the kind of very personal donation of one lower limb and one foot of large intestine, I think the Internal Revenue Service could afford to lose a few bucks over me fixing Mister croco-tiger's car outside the book.

Possibly fixing, of course, I had no idea what was wrong with it and whether I could do something about it with whatever skills I had left. I didn't even know just how much money there was in it, but the tiger promised to pay me 'well', and he didn't strike me as a particularly cheap kind of a guy, so I thought it would be worthwhile. Plus, the code got tiring after a while, and maybe doing something with my paws other than typing for once would be good got me. At least I still got two of them.

The cab was nice, too. It was air conditioned, warm, dry, and the raccoon driving didn't make stupid small talk, didn't smell of alcohol, piss or shit, and the seat wasn't made of plastic. Pretty good stuff all told. Would be sweet to have a ride of my own. Maybe when I'd actually have a job and a proper wage. That's what Simpson always talked about at the support group, setting realistic goals.

Maybe.

Dr Phil shit aside.

I looked over to Dr Patrick on the other side of the backseat. I wasn't sure if he was a doctor. I don't think these eye people are all doctors. He didn't call himself a doctor... so maybe he was, or not. Didn't really matter I suppose, as long as you made the money and got to wear that white coat, crocodiles or not. He wore regular clothes now, a green coat on top. He kept looking through the window. Probably bored. We didn't really have much in the way of small talk at the moment, not after we'd gotten to the cab at the mall. Guess we didn't have that much to say to one another, at least not yet. Maybe he'd get more talkative once he started to boast about his car. I hadn't seen it yet, but the word 'Lexus' was mentioned at some point, so I presumed that it was fancy as shit.

"Damnit!"the tiger said suddenly.

I stopped my own window-staring and looked at the tiger instead.

"What?"

He did not look happy.

"It's still raining,"he said, "And the car's on the driveway where I left it last night."

My ears dropped like a boner after seeing Kim Kardashian.

"Christ,"I hissed.

He tugged on his mane again.

"Well, let's hope the rain stops before that, shall we?"he said.

I didn't feel convinced. What was he going to do if it didn't? Hold an umbrella over me when I looked under the hood?

"Yeah," I said. "I guess it doesn't look so bad anymore."

"I can always push the car into the garage,"he said. "It's only a few yards anyway."

At least he had a garage. That reminded me...

"Do you have any kind of tools there?"I asked.

"Sure,"he said. "Spanners, screwdrivers, that sort of stuff, for use around home. It's the same tools they use for cars, isn't it?"

"Yeah,"I said. "Although I'm not sure if all the needed sizes come in regular tool kits."

His ears flicked curiously.

"Are you planning to take the whole engine apart or something?"he was smiling when he said that.

"Not if I don't have to," I shrugged. "But you'd probably noticed if it was something with the engine."

"it's been running alright," he said. "Nothing to report, really."

"Like I said before, it's probably electric, then,"I said.

"And you can fix those things too?"

"At least some,"I said. "It's more about the troubleshooting at this point."

"Yeah, I wish I had the time, but patients generally don't want to wait."

"I guess not,"I said.

We were quiet after that, too. I looked through the window, where the passing city looked unfamiliar. Maybe we were getting close to his place.

"Where are we now?"I asked.

The tiger glanced through his own side.

"We're in Sheffield,"he said, "We'll be in Lyons Estates in a couple of minutes or so."

"Alright,"I said.

"Is this a new area for you?"he asked.

"Yeah,"I replied. "I haven't really gotten around the city that much yet. I only moved here earlier this year."

"Ah, yes,"he nodded. "I guess you get the hang of it soon enough, though! Always takes some time getting used to a new place."

"It does,"I said.

"When I moved here from Pittsburgh, it all seemed so small, "he chuckled and rumbled a little. "But there's still lot of explore and see. Some nice green areas too, if you're into that sort of a thing."

I wondered if he was. He seemed more like the kind to sit down with some fancy ass book in his fancy ass house and drink wine that cost as much as a day's pay for a regular guy.

The cab turned onto another road and went past Al's Sofa Warehouse. The industrial type buildings began to give way to houses, some older, others definitely newer, in neat rows with pretty green lawn on the front. Kids' bicycles, expensive cars, ol' American flags swinging from flagpoles to show their pride for the Fatherland. Basic suburban territory, washed with rain.

Pretty soon there was a sign that said 'WELCOME TO LYONS ESTATES', and the houses looked even nicer. That sign only missed a fucking rainbow on it, I thought.

"Just turn right on the next, you'll get there a bit faster that way,"the tiger guy instructed the raccoon behind the wheel.

At least the rain wasn't too bad anymore, when we pulled up in front of a two-storied house that had a gray Lexus standing in front of it. Must've been the patient, so to speak.

I still got some big fat drops of water on me when I stepped out of the cab, hauling my stuff, while the tiger guy paid for the ride. It felt a bit awkward, standing there like that.

"Damn, still raining," the tiger muttered once he too left the cab, "Come on, let's take your things inside so that at least they will stay dry, shall we?"

"Right, sure,"I replied with a flick of my ears. I'd pretty much forgotten I had them. Too much to think about with this entire thing.

I followed him to the front door that he quickly unlocked. It smelled like tigers inside, for sure, he was familiar to me by now after working in his office. What I could see from the front door, the hall, into the living room, it all seemed very neat and tidy. Nothing too fancy, or funny. Open doors to the living room showed a big ass TV, and surprisingly, some clothes in disarray thrown over the back of the couch.

He must've noticed me seeing that, because he chuckled.

"My son,"he said, "He is not always as neat as I am, and I prefer not to clean up after him. Though I do it anyway, really..."

Of course he did. He wore pressed pants, after all.

"Well I like neat,"I commented. "Makes life easier."

I didn't joke about that. If I'd ever learned anything about life in the Army, it would've been that keeping your shit in order meant that your life would be in order as well.

Unless your shit hit the fan, or flowed into a plastic, for example.

"It does, doesn't it?" he smiled. "Easier to find what you need."

"And safer,"I rumbled.

"Yes?"

I knew it was just an off-paw remark from me, but now it warranted an explanation.

"This..." I tapped my thigh, above where the prosthetic socket fitted onto my stump, "Doesn't really like tripping over things."

He looked, and while I knew that he could only see my pants and my sneaker-covered foot, I suspected he might've been imagining the horrors that laid underneath. Scarred skin and missing muscle and titanium where there should be flesh and bone. He might've had X-ray vision and all that jazz.

"Ah, of course,"he said.

He was still looking, and I was starting to feel like an exhibition.

"Where can I put my bags?" I asked, to get rid of the moment.

Now his head went about the room.

"Ehmm...how about the coat rack?" he pointed at it on the wall. "Better than the floor, isn't it?"

I stomped my way over and put my backpack there, and my computer bag below it, next to a pair of worn leather shoes. I found him following me, to open a cabinet on the wall, revealing more clothes.

"I'm going to put something else on," he said, "This coat is not really made for fixing cars."

I had a feeling the paws unbuttoning his jacket weren't made for fixing cars, but kept that thought to myself.

"Guess you could have worn the one with crocs,"I said.

He looked at me curiously, and then laughed.

"Well that'd be a sight!"

He was a sight in it any time, but...that was his choice and all that.

He picked a very old-looking brown coat and slipped it on himself while I just waited.

"Shall we go?"

"I guess it's still raining,"I said.

The tiger glanced at the door.

"Ah, right. Guess I'll have to push the car in then."

"We should try to start it at least once, though," I said. "Sometimes these things just...recover on their own."

"Do you think?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Well, then..."

He picked a bunch of keys from a bowl on a little table by the coat rack and headed for the door. I followed, and stayed under the cover of the roof while he stomped over to the car, opened the door with the button on the key and sat inside.

"DO I NEED TO REMEMBER ANYTHING?" he yelled from the open door.

"Just give it a go!" I replied. "Start it like you usually do!"

I guess he was twisting the key because the lights front and back flashed briefly and then died out. The car didn't make any sound, nor moved.

"I DON'T THINK IT'S DOING ANYTHING!" yelled the tiger.

"I saw as much!" I yelped back. "Think the power went on but then it died!"

"ANY IDEAS?"

"Plenty," I replied." I think we have to get the car under a roof now, though. May have to look under the hood."

"Well, shit!"

Profanity sounded strange coming from his muzzle. He was right, though. It was pretty much shit.

The tiger used his key to open the garage door on automatic, and then he jumped out of the car.

"You drive," he said. "I'll push."

I seriously wondered which one of us was the stronger, physically, but he had a point. I'd need to use my legs for leverage. Putting that kind of weight on my stump was not a good idea and would probably get me into trouble. They might run marathons with those funny-looking prosthetics, but I wasn't going to start playing World's Strongest Fox competition on some tiger's driveway.

"Okay!"

I stomped over and got myself onto the leather seat. Wasn't sure if it was real leather, but it all mostly smelled like the tiger so I couldn't tell by the scent alone. The seat was much too far back and low for me, but it was still a nice feeling, to sit behind the wheel of a proper car, even if the car was broken down at the moment.

I heard a couple of thumps when the tiger put his paws onto the back of the car.

"Release the brake and the gear!"

I'd done this a few times, but I let him play the boss.

"Ready!" I called once I got my paws on the wheel.

"Nhhhjjjjghh..."

Well, that was an expected sound for him to make, once he put his back to it. Didn't get this kind of exercise when all he did all day was lifting those funny cards with colored spots on them and you had to say if you saw a number or not. He was also getting wet from the still ongoing rain. At least the car made a little nudge forward, and then some more.

"Looking good!" I yelped from the car door that I kept open a fraction with my paw. "Just a bit more!"

The car moved slowly into the garage. It was big enough for one car, for sure, and there was plenty of space for storage to the side as well. Regular stuff from what I could see, even if it was quite dark. Lawnmower, a shovel, garden hose, the usual this and that you found in such a place. Never had a garage at home, since we lived in a block.

"Enough!" I called out when the back wall loomed close. Even hit the brake to make sure it stopped.

"Phew!"

I climbed out of the car, to find a newly damp tiger there, looking at me curiously.

"What shall we do now?" he asked.

"Best to look under the hood to see if there's anything going on there," I said. "Might be some sort of a loose connection, or a problem with the fuses."

"I'll turn on the lights, I'm sure you can find the switch in the car to open the hood."

"I should," I said.

I scrambled back into the car and popped the hood, while the cat put on the lights overhead. I'd preferred some more, but it was a start. The interior did not offer any clues to the problem on first sight. Much of it was covered in plastic panels, like they did on these fancy ass new cars.

"What do you think?" the tiger landed on my side.

I wasn't even quite sure where to start.

"You could get the tools," I said. "I may have to open some of these covers."

"Ah, of course!"

The tiger went busily on his way. I continued to contemplate the task at paw.

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