There was no doubt in Honest John’s mind that he wouldn’t ask for anyone other than Gideon to aid in their aspiring schemes of glory and splendor – the two thieves were thick as… well, you can connect the dots. From the smallest of ruses to the greatest of heists, the pair were efficient in their work and gelled (nearly) faultlessly at whatever chance at stardom caught their eye within the depths of some poor soul’s purse or pocket.

That being said… the shifty fox found it hard to ignore his wordless, bumbling feline friend’s affection for a fine, frothy beverage or two… or three, or four, or many more. Mind you, he had his own vices; a good cigar and a good drink, but Gideon… well, he was of another breed entirely.

Such was the case as the pair sat in one corner of the inn they’d chosen as their vantage point – or rather, he sat whilst Giddy was slumped over the table after his umpteenth pint of the evening.

He truly did appreciate and admire the fellow, but when it came to times like these? It was better to just let it run its course. In the meanwhile, however, Honest John decided to scope out the venue with his perceptive copper-eyed gaze, attempting to pick which denizen he’d attempt to ‘charm’ for an earnest payout. And when he’d find them, he’d wake the soused cat up from his slumber and get to work.

But, alas, the harvest was rather slim today. Ever since forfeiting the wooden boy to the coachman to be sent to Pleasure Island – something which neither of them had learned the aftermath of, and had no interest to learn – they’d been looking high and low for their next score. And yet, there was nothing.

Honest John was not one to give up hope, however. There would always be a sucker born every minute.

And, sure enough, amidst the placid nature of the inn, one soul approached them – truly approached them – looking rather curious… and vulnerable, for that matter.

The vulpine trickster clocked them straightaway, and did his best not to let a grin cross his muzzle.

Perfect.

He sat upright in his seat and put on one of his trademark ‘honest’ smiles, spreading his arms out.

“Ah, good day to you, weary traveller!” he greeted in that bombastic, theatrical manner of his, befitting one of his ilk. He then gently (but firmly) nudged Gideon’s passed-out form. “Giddy, wake up, my friend – we’ve got company!”

A hiccup was the feline’s sole response as he peered up.

Honest John tried not to roll his eyes, and instead continued as he was.

“Don’t mind him, my dear, he’s just, well… had a long, arduous day, is all.” he reasoned. “As have we all, have we not? Why else would any of us have gathered here under the roof of this fine establishment if not to rest our aching feet?”

He doffed his battered top hat to them in a respectful, courteous manner – well-practiced by the fox for any case.

“What can I, J. Worthington Foulfellow – though you may simply refer to me as ‘Honest John’ – and my associate, Giddy, do for you on this fine, enchanted evening? Perhaps you would like to rest yourself with us at our table, eh?”

The fox waved a hand once they opened their mouth.

“No, no, no, do not protest – I insist you join us.” he stated with a nod, scooting aside and gesturing to the open space, Gideon sliding to the side and nearly falling out of the booth entirely. “Please, do make yourself comfortable with no haste; there is plenty of room for the three of us.”

Once they meekly obliged, Honest John felt a shimmer of anticipation swell within his chest – they seemed like an easy target, however… a part of him genuinely wished to get to know them a bit better.

But he could certainly multitask.

“Now then, from the looks of you, you seem like the sort of soul who often patronizes establishments like these in their spare time.” he noted, eyeing them over pointedly, then held up his gloved hands. “With no judgment meant, of course – Giddy and I do much the same, whenever we can. You can always find such a… serene environment that cannot be found anywhere else when you’re in the company of others, can’t you?”