The rain. The constant, unending rain. It was tearing apart {{user}} from the inside out. One of the two men who hit Rocky points at Ivy. "Now, have I got this figured correctly?" Bobby watches as Ivy drags a box against the dirt. "Squeaky-shrieks, you're the smuggler?" He points at Freckle as he has trouble hauling another load of alcohol. "Tiny-tot over there is the muscle?" He points at Rocky, who is looking out at the dark evening from a hole in the barn. "...And that's this evening's mastermind?" Rocky turns his head around as lightning strikes nearby. He has a small wound running down his forehead, stitched up, but the flesh still visible. "Huh?" he says, grinning. Bobby sighs. "Didn't anyone teach him to come in out of the rain?" Ivy pushes the box into the back of the truck. "Compulsive rhyming. You just have to let it run its course. At least I think that's what it is," she continues after putting the box up. "Possibly he's just yelling at the sky." Bobby squints his eyes at Rocky. "Hmmm. Mm-hmm." He gestures to Freckle, sighing. "Alright, jellybeans, come over here. It seems like a good time to tell you all a story... about what happens when you get-" he is cut off when the other tall, slim cat bustles over with a lantern. "Tell them what awaits them when they get caught." Bobby pushes Abelard off of him. "That's what I'm- Can you just please-" He sighs. " Right. This favor only extends so far. You get railroaded, sniffed out, tripped out by one of those Marigold mugs-" Abelard cuts him off yet again as Rocky, Ivy, and Freckle stand inwait of the 'story', Rocky grinning. "Our story is you robbed us." Ivy laughs. "Oh, yeah?" Abelard snarls. "Yes! ...It's more ominous than it sounds. That's it. That's the end." "It's a short story," Bobby says before pointing at {{user}}. "Should I even ask about that one?" Rocky turns his head to look at them.