"CATCH OF THE NIGHT"

The Deadhook Bar. Unusually vacant, even for a Tuesday night. While the bartender wipes the counter a raccoon, her only customer at the moment, sits at the bar and finishes his drink. The walls are adorned with fishing memorabilia, with an Australian flag proudly displayed behind the bar above the liquor. The building's atmosphere - far from fancy - can swallow its patrons nonetheless. Fluorescent lights gleam dimly from the ceiling. An old Greener GP shotgun rests below the bar, out of sight from any patrons.

"Cass." Jerome says, presenting his empty glass. "Another round."

The frilled lizard approaches the raccoon, holding a bottle of Bluegrass Sour. She gives him a similarly sour look. "You're not just gonna sit here and guzzle all my Bluegrass again are you?" She asks sarcastically. Her Australian accent is faded from years in America, but still distinct.

Jerome smirks. "I didn't drink ALL of it. I saved some for tonight." The lizard shakes her head and fills his glass before returning to her business. After a short while, another patron opens the door and steps inside. As the raccoon sips his whiskey, Cass turns her attention to the new customer. "What'll it be?" She asks.

The burly man sits on the barstool next to Jerome. "Dark rum. Neat." He says to the bartender. Jerome's ears perk up upon hearing the man's voice. He quickly turns his head, and the smiling bobcat meets his gaze.

"Skinner!" The raccoon exclaims. Cass sets a glass of rum in front of the man.

"Told you I'd be back, Jerry." Skinner says before taking a sizable swig of his rum.

The raccoon frowns and pulls the glass he's holding closer to him. "I don't know how you drink that shit." He grumbles.

"Heh." Skinner replies.

Cass takes the opportunity to jump in to the conversation. "You're Skinner? The way he talks you're the best thing to ever happen to the little man." She nods towards the raccoon.

"You two're just tall." Jerome objects.

Skinner lets out a chuckle rests his hand on the raccoon's back, pushing at him playfully. "I was only gone a few months, Jerry! Don't act so down."

Jerome turns to Skinner, resting a paw on his own chin. "You were the only damn bit of work around here. And now that you're back, I'm guessing you broke free from the ol' family business again."

The bobcat leans over and pulls the raccoon in for a one-armed hug, holding his glass of rum in the other hand. "Good to see you too, pal." He jokes.

Jerome gives in and returns the hug. "I'm glad to see you again, man." He says with his face buried in the bobcat's side. Skinner lets him go and he returns to his drink, slowly losing the slouch he had before.

Skinner decides to chat with the bartender while Jerome regains himself. "Quite the place you've got here." He motions at the walls full of lures, rods, fish mounts, photo frames, and the sort.

"Yeah." Cass smiles and leans against the bar. "It's my old man's place. This is all his stuff." She motions to the decor with her free hand. "Name's Cass, by the way."

"Nice to meet'cha. Nice rum too." He goes to draw another sip from the drinking glass.

"The dust!" Jerome cries out. The two turn to the raccoon. Cass gives him a scowl.

"The what?" Skinner asks.

Cass continues her vexful glance. Jerome looks at her expectantly. She sighs and turns her glare to Skinner. "We've been talking about this odd job." She leans on the bar, resting her elbows on the counter. "Some bloke from out east came around looking for a few people to score this 'dust' he calls it. Supposed to steal it from some transport van. And he offered good pay. Really good pay."

"You know anything about this guy?" Skinner asks her.

"Never seen him. Arrived with some stuck up chick who waited outside." Cass explains. "Definitely not from around here."

Skinner puts his glass down and rests his arms on the bar. "Why do you need me for this?"

"Well..." Cass begins. "The stuff's not exactly supposed to be well guarded, but I'd really like to have another set of hands for it."

"Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have some more muscle along!" Jerome butts in. Skinner gives him a salacious look.

Cass continues. "Also, the company moving it is being contracted by the government."

"No kiddin'!" Skinner exclaims. "How much is the pay?" He lifts his glass to his mouth.

Cass shoots him a grin. "Eighteen racks."

Skinner's sip is interrupted by a sputtering cough. He wipes off the rum splattered on his chin and chuckles. "What the hell is that stuff?"

The lizard shrugs. "Tried looking into it. Cobalt naph-something. Some weird chemicals, used by the military." She pauses for a second. "We should probably wear gloves when we do our thing."

Skinner itches his face fluff. "Yeah. I'm in." The raccoon retains his excitement. Cass looks pleased. "Gonna need to find the route on that van, though."

"That's for tomorrow." Jerome chimes in. "You're back! Let's have some fun!" The bobcat complies and picks up his beverage. Jerome presents his own.

The two cheer and down the rest of their glasses. Skinner handles the drink a lot better than the raccoon. Before long, Cass pours herself some tequila and joins in. At the end of the night, Cass locks up the bar and the other two make their way back to Jerome's place for the evening.